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unconventional-lawnchair · 2 months ago

Note

Hi I love your fics and was hoping you’d like this request:)) I was thinking a fic with James x fem!reader where she’s a slytherin but not in the stereotypical way that James and the marauders typically see them as. She’s not cold hearted or prejudice, rather quite friendly and very artsy. I was thinking an enemies to lovers where James just generalizes her with the slytherin she doesn’t like so he’s not the kindest to her, but maybe she gets paired up for an assignment with Remus so James ends up having to be around her a bit and realizes she doesn’t suck lol. Think he would definitely have to work for her affection after fumbling the ball so hard but im a sucker for a happy ending!

I hope this sounds like something you’d enjoy writing, if not that’s totally ok too❤️

Masterpiece

James Potter x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: (see above) James Potter goes a little too far with a girl everyone happens to like.

AN: I am so sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it <3

CW: not proof read, use of {Y/N}, Jealous and Stupid James, sexual implied ending, Protective salty Remus, self indulgent, cursing, very slight angst, fem reader, not cannon complacent, sexual innuendo,

WC: ~9k

The sky was overcast and the wind was blowing rapidly, causing your sleeves to billow as the very stool you perched on teetered from side to side. You grabbed the seat and tried to steady your perch, holding up your paint brush away from your portrait as the creamy white shade dripped down on your bare legs.

Dressed in casual clothes, your paint stained denim short overalls and a striped shirt that hid evidence of handprint smears from your absentminded messes. Sleeves rolled up to show your speckled skin already decorated with splotches of white and browns, fresh hazy grays that resembled the foggy ground of Hogwarts and its students.

“{Y/N} {L/N}?” A voice so calm and careful called out from behind you. You turned and smiled on instinct, your eyes landing on the tall figure. He was also in more casual clothes, a brown cable knit sweater vest over a simple white button down shirt. He was holding up a piece of paper to his eyes before he put it in his pocket. Smiling so kindly, where the corners of his eyes crinkled and his scarred lip curled up to reveal perfectly uneven teeth.

Ballet white.

“Remus Lupin?” You called out to him and he chuckled, taking a few long steps to stand beside you.

“You were meant to wait for me, you know.” He teased and slipped his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I know, I know. But this was the perfect time for it.” You lifted your hands to gesture to the sky and he looked around to try and find what exactly made this 'perfect.’

“How’d you even manage to get in here?” He quizzed and took a seat on the railing. Looking around at the castle grounds from the top of RavenClaw’s tower, you got the perfect view of the astronomy tower, what you were currently painting.

“There wasn't much convincing involved. Barty Crouch walked me up here.” You smirked and he looked bewildered.

“You know Crouch?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Remus furrowed his brow as he tried to piece together how he hadn't heard of you before. Seeing as he was meant to be escorting you two and from each Hogwarts house for your own personal study, it seemed unlikely he wouldn't of known of you, getting this particular form of special treatment from the headmaster himself.

Remus walked around you and took a peak at what you were painting. The air so familiar, and comforting, both of you had forgotten you had just met.

“What are you painting?”

“Magical paintings.” You hummed and he furrowed his brow further.

“Don't you usually need a subject?”

“Traditionally.” You muttered and gestured for him to sit down. He listened almost instantly, sitting down on the floor next to you, laying his crutch across his lap. After a moment of pause you shrugged and set your paint aside, shifting to sit beside him on the floor, making him chuckle.

“Do you know how they work?”

“Not a clue.” He shifted to sit and face you fully. Both of you crossed your legs, like tots ready to swap unearthing secrets in the school yard.

“Well. What you're thinking of is magical portraits. The art of bringing the life of the subject to the painting.” You declared almost breathless. “But that's amature work.”

He gave a delighted and startled laugh at your bold declaration, but it didn't impede you.

“The true magic is being able to bring life that isn't visible to the naked eye, to visual art forms.” You declared and gestured to your painting. Remus’s eyes flickered up and widened a bit. You gave an excitable bright smile as you both watched the misty fog in your painting shift, the faint stars in the background twinkle against the backdrop, and even the few faint sketches of students within the distant tower moving about.

“Woah.” He whispered and you nodded eagerly.

“Isn't it inspiring?”

“It is.” He agreed instantly before he looked back at you. “But, doesn't it typically take magic from the subject for it to work effectively? How does this work?”

“Well, don't you think Hogwarts is possibly the most magical place in the world?” You argued and he chuckled at how easily you brushed off the question.

Of course, no one truly knew how it worked. Not that the creator of the art method ever documented his findings. The only clear part of it was not everyone had the knack for it. You were lucky, since you were young, to be able to produce the art even before you got your magic.

You turned to Remus, who was watching with rapt attention.

“Do you want to try?” You offered, a mischievous smile taking over your features that looked startlingly familiar to Remus.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Me? Paint?”

“Why not? You might find you have a hidden talent!” You encouraged, handing him a brush and a palette.

Reluctantly, he took the brush, glancing at the canvas as if it were a daunting task. Exaggerative hesitation to defile such a beautiful painting. You grinned, ready to guide him through it. Little did you know that in that moment, you had endeared yourself to Remus in a way not many people were able to.

For the next few hours, well after curfew, you and Remus stayed perched on the RavenClaw tower, as you instructed him on what colors and paints to use. He was doing his best not to ‘ruin it’, which quickly went out the window when, in a moment of playful determination, you covered your hands in black paint and began to stamp your canvas. Convincing him that you truly didn't care what he did to the painting as long as it was fun.

Finally, you both snuck out of the RavenClaw tower as quietly as possible, trying not to wake anyone. Leading to you two in the halls, laughing and joking as he carried your canvas for you.

“So, you're self taught?” He prodded and you nodded.

“Yup! Have been doing this since I was.. four? Likely. My mother showed me.” You hummed and he gave a delighted laugh.

“Really? So you're studying in your free time?”

“Mhm! It's not something that can really be.. taught. So Hogwarts doesn't have classes on it quite yet.” You waved your hand vaguely and he nodded.

“You're telling me this now, after all that time trying? You got my hopes up, {L/N}.”

You giggled and he put his hand over his heart in fake anguish.

“I was this close to changing career paths, you know.”

“Oh, I'm sure you were. I could see the headline now: 'Remus Lupin, Future Auror, Turns Painter After One Magical Evening.'” You laughed, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I’ll stick to Defense Against the Dark Arts, thank you very much. But this-” He gestured to the covered painting with a soft look. “You turned this mess into something amazing. You're truly talented.”

“I know.” You sang and he laughed, nudging you.

“I'm serious, you know.”

“Sirius? I thought you were his boyfriend?”

“Oh Merlin, you're as bad as they are.”

You gave a laugh of your own and shoved him back. “Oh, you Marauders? Please tell me you're joking.”

“No, no, truly. I think you'd get along. Gryffindor tower is next, right?” He prodded as you both entered the hall and stopped just before the dungeons’ entrance.

“Mhm.”

“I'll see you tomorrow then?” He offered and held out his hand. You took it with a firm shake and you both said your goodbyes, hurrying over to the Slytherin common room.

~~~

“She's quite fun, showed me how to match pallets colors.” Remus rambled on to Lily who gave a delighted laugh at how excited he was to show her his new found artistic ability. They were sitting on the couch together, and he was exposing to her why his newest sweater vest was absolutely ruined

“She sounds lovely.” Lily hummed, Sirius smirking from his spot between Remus’s knees, looking up at him. Eyes closed as one of the werewolf’s hands tangled in his loches of hair.

“So lovely you should just marry her.” Sirius teased and Remus glared at him, giving a particularly rough tug at his boyfriend's hair. Sirius giving a chuckle and biting his lip. “I see no punishment here.”

“You-”

“Whose getting hitched?” James piped up from the stairs, jogging over and hopping onto the couch. Making the cushions bounce a bit as he got comfortable. “Evans, how can you let this happen? A Hogwarts marriage that's not our own?”

Lily gave a sigh and rolled her eyes, gathering her things and saying her goodbyes to Remus and Sirius, giving James the cold shoulder with a simple ‘Potter’ as he put his hand over his chest and sunk further into the cushions.

“She says that name like it won't be hers someday.” He sighed fondly before he turned to look at the other two. “Where's Wormy?”

“He's on a date with a Hufflepuff.” Sirius snickered. “Some seventh year dude.”

“Huh.” James muttered and looked at the ceiling. “Didn't think he'd be the type to date older.”

“Yeah well-” Before Sirius could continue, Remus’s head peaked up from the couch when there was a knock on the portrait door.

“That her?” Sirius asked as Remus slugged out of his seat to get around his clingy boyfriend.

“Likely!” He shouted back and James tilted his head like a confused puppy.

“Who?” He quizzed Sirius and he smirked up at James.

“{Y/N} {L/N}, the artist extraordinaire.” Sirius replied with mock seriousness, adjusting his position to climb onto the couch. “Remus has been raving about her all evening.”

“{Y/N} {L/N}? Where have I heard of her before?” James leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Oh! That paint girl? One who has been doing those weird paint studies around school?”

“Yeah, that’s her.” Sirius replied, grinning. “Apparently, she's doing some self study. Remus was practically glowing when he talked about her.”

James’s eyes widened with intrigue. “That’s brilliant! I’ve heard whispers about her- it’s supposed to be absolutely mesmerizing.”

“I wouldn't go that far.” You interjected, stepping through the portrait hole just in time to catch the end of the conversation. You were slightly out of breath, having hurried from the Slytherin dungeons to the Gryffindor tower, your paint-stained overalls still evidence of your artistic endeavors from yesterday. Looking around at the beautiful common room. A very faded almost gray-green scarf around your neck.

Burnt Scarlet and Butterscotch

The room fell silent as all eyes turned toward you. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You teased with a playful grin, glancing around at the familiar faces of the infamous boys. Sirius was looking you over curiously, with his typical sleazy grin, but James seemed absolutely slack jawed. After a moment of a wait you gave a small laugh, snapping James out of whatever trance he was in. Turning to look at Remus who had his eyes locked on your paints, making you smile.

His eyes flicked up to yours and he grinned back cheekily. “Where should I set up?”

“Over here, near the window.” He gestured over to a small nook. You hurried over and set your things down. Starting of course with a small tarp to set up your painting area without having to worry about ruining the flooring.

You set up two canvas this time and Remus helped you, confused at first before you set another pallet and paint brush down. “Alright, my student. Do you remember what I taught you?” You teased and he laughed, walking over to pick up the paint.

“You didn't have the bring this just for me.”

“Oh I know, how great am I, right?” You teased and sat down. Remus was still getting used to your deflective personality. Shrugging as he sat down and watched as you worked. Doing his best to copy your movements.

Meanwhile, Sirius and James were watching the scene curiously. Sirius couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the attention his boyfriend was giving this new girl, and James was unable to get over the fading color of your scarf. His jaw clenched a bit as he watched Lily walk over to introduce herself, also somehow roped in by your charm and even sitting down with you two to watch you paint.

James leaned back on the couch, arms crossed as he watched the interaction unfold before him. The sight of you, animated and joyful as you explained your artistic process to Remus and Lily, stirred something in him. It wasn't just the way you wielded your paintbrush with such confidence; it was the warmth that radiated from you. You were a Slytherin, so obviously, but you held the room like a Gryffindor. You worked with the precision of a RavenClaw. You were patient and thoughtful with Remus and his questions, like a HufflePuff.

He didn't get it.

“Oi, Prongs, you look like you’ve just swallowed a lemon.” Sirius whispered, nudging James with his elbow. “What’s got you all broody?”

“Nothin.” James replied, too quickly, his eyes still fixed on you. “Just… watching.”

Sirius followed his eyes and slowly smirked to himself. “She's getting under your skin too, huh?”

James glanced at Sirius before his glare locked back on you as you instructed Lily to take your paintbrush and gestured to the canvas he couldn't see. “What's her deal? Why's she so.. smiley?”

The ‘as a Slytherin’ part came unspoken to both of the boys.

“You know, Remus says she knows Crouch.”

“Of course she does.” He muttered, eyes locked on the way you rolled up your sleeve and cuffed them. How you loosened your collar, and leaned down, showing the upper valley to your-

And suddenly the floor was a bit more interesting. He turned to look at Sirius who’s lip twitched as he watched Remus rub his thumb across his cheek and smudge some black paint on himself.

“... Merlin, he's bloody fit, ain't he?” Sirius muttered and James gave a loud exaggerated groan.

“I'm shocked Remus is entertaining her at all.” James finally muttered and sunk deeper into his sheet like a pouty child. Sirius nodded.

James watched with narrowed eyes as you laughed along with Remus and Lily, his annoyance bubbling up to the surface. Without really thinking it through, he pushed himself up from the couch, making his way over to where you were sitting with the paintbrushes and palettes laid out neatly.

He made it look casual, like he was just getting a better view, but as he stepped closer, his foot "accidentally" caught the jar of paint water perched near the edge of the table. It tipped, and time seemed to slow as the murky water splashed all over your leggings that just peaked form under your overalls, staining the fabric a dark, ugly color.

"Oh! Whoops, sorry 'bout that," James said, not quite managing to hide the smirk tugging at his lips. His tone was just on the edge of sincere, but the glint in his eyes gave him away.

You glanced down at the mess, then up at James, and for a moment it seemed like the whole room held its breath. James just waiting for the snake to snap its jaws at him. But instead of getting angry, instead of snapping at him like he expected, you just smiled- a bright, genuine smile that made James's stomach twist uncomfortably.

"No worries, Potter.” You mused, brushing it off as if nothing had happened. "A bit of extra color never hurt anyone."

James blinked, taken aback. He hadn’t expected that. He muttered something that might have been an apology, but the way you smiled at him; completely unbothered- only made his irritation flare up more. He turned sharply on his heel, stalking back to the couch where Sirius was watching with an amused expression.

"Smooth, mate," Sirius drawled, arching an eyebrow.

"Shut it," James muttered, sinking back into his seat, his eyes flicking back to you as you continued painting like nothing had happened.

---

Over the next few days, James found himself increasingly irked by you. No matter what he did, you never seemed fazed. He "accidentally" knocked over your brushes during lunch one day, scattering them across the floor. You just laughed, picking them up without complaint. He charmed your canvas to keep sliding down whenever you set it up, but you only adjusted it each time, humming to yourself as if it were all just part of the process. He even tried to charm the colors in your palette to mix into a murky brown- but you simply shrugged, saying something about it being a "happy little accident" and turned it into a whole new painting.

Each time, you just smiled at him, that infuriatingly calm smile that made James feel like he was the one being childish. It was driving him mad, and Sirius, for one, found the whole thing endlessly entertaining.

One morning, James was sitting in the Great Hall, absently poking at his breakfast, when he heard a determined set of footsteps approaching. He looked up just in time to see you standing over him, hands on your hips, your eyes sharp. If James was a smarter boy, he would of been able to see the faint red rims around your eye sockets and the twitch of your lip.

"Potter.” You huffed, your voice carrying just enough edge to catch the attention of the surrounding students. "Give it back."

James blinked, feigning innocence. "Give what back?"

"Don't play dumb.” You snapped, leaning over the table, your face inches from his. "My paintbrush. The one with the silver handle. I know you took it."

James opened his mouth to deny it, but the look in your eyes made him hesitate. There was something different today- a fire that hadn’t been there before. He was finally getting a reaction from you. He felt his resolve waver, and before he could stop himself, he found his hand reaching into his robes, to pull out the paintbrush in question. Only.. it wasn't there.

James blinked, his smirk faltering as he patted the pocket where he thought he’d stashed your paintbrush. It wasn’t there. A pang of unease settled in his chest as he searched through the other pockets of his robes, the smirk fading completely as he came up empty-handed.

“Are you kidding me?” You straightened, your eyes narrowing. “Potter, don’t play games right now. That brush… it’s important to me.”

There was a crack in your voice, something raw that caught James off guard. The confidence you always carried seemed to waver, your voice betraying a vulnerability that made James's stomach sink with guilt.

“I… I swear it was right here,” James muttered, now frantically checking every inch of his robes, his face growing paler with each empty pocket. The students around them had grown quiet, sensing the sudden seriousness of the situation.

Remus was glaring daggers into his very soul, even Sirius hid his face away in his hand.

You stood there, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your lips pressed together as you fought to maintain composure. You looked away from him, swallowing hard. “Potter, that was my mother’s. She gave it to me before…” You trailed off, your voice breaking slightly before you cleared your throat, trying to regain control.

James’s heart sank. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t thought. All he’d wanted was to rile you up, to see you react. He hadn’t meant for this.

“Alright,” He said quickly, standing up from the table. His voice was more earnest now, the usual cockiness gone. “I’ll help you find it. It must have fallen out somewhere. Let’s go check my dorm.”

You didn’t say anything, just nodded stiffly, blinking rapidly as you turned on your heel and started walking, James trailing after you. The Great Hall was eerily quiet as they left, whispers following in their wake.

“She's too damn nice.” Remus muttered and Sirius sighed. About to say something, before he earned a glare from Remus too.

Lily tutted. “As if you weren't involved in anything he's done to her so far.”

~~~

The walk to the Gryffindor common room felt like it took forever, the silence between the two of you heavy. James kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, the way your jaw was clenched, the way you kept your eyes straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze.

When they reached the boys' dormitory, James immediately began tearing through his things, searching every nook and cranny. He pulled open drawers, checked under his bed, even rummaged through the pockets of his other robes. But the paintbrush was nowhere to be found.

He turned to you, his hands dropping to his sides in defeat. “I… I’m so sorry, {Y/N}, I can’t find it. Maybe it fell somewhere else, maybe-”

“Stop,” You cut him off, your voice barely a whisper. Your eyes were glassy, tears welling up as you looked at him. The fight you’d been trying to keep inside seemed to crumble all at once, your shoulders sagging as you sank down onto the edge of his bed. “It’s gone, isn’t it?”

James stared at you, his heart aching at the sight of you like this. He’d never imagined he’d see you cry, and knowing he was the cause of it made him feel worse than he ever thought possible. Suddenly all those weeks of trying to get under your skin seemed more of a success, if this was the result of a truly damaging prank.

“I…” He didn’t know what to say, how to fix this. He knelt down in front of you, his voice gentle. “I’ll find it, I promise. I’ll look everywhere, I’ll…”

You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It’s not just a paintbrush, Potter. It was hers. It was all I had left of her.”

James’s chest tightened, and he reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on your knee. “I’m so sorry. I… I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I’ll find it. I swear I will.”

You looked down at his hand, then back at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of pain and exhaustion. “Just… don’t,” You whispered, your voice breaking. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Potter.”

And with that, you stood up, wiping at your eyes as you turned and left the dormitory, leaving James there, staring after you, feeling more helpless than he ever had before.

~~~

James had never felt guilt like this. It gnawed at him, making his usual swagger feel empty. Over the next few days, he found himself constantly scanning the corridors, the classrooms, even the common rooms, hoping to catch a glimpse of you but you were always just out of reach. Each time he spotted you, you either turned and walked the other way or simply looked right through him as if he didn't exist.

It wasn't long before the whole school knew what had happened. How James Potter had lost something precious of yours, something irreplaceable. And unlike other times, where his mischief had earned him admiration or laughter, this time he received disapproving glares and whispers behind his back. How he hurt the only Slytherin everyone seemed to adore. Even Remus had given him the cold shoulder for a while, and Lily refused to talk to him outright.

One day, after Transfiguration, James caught sight of you slipping out of the classroom. He hurried to catch up, weaving through the crowd of students, his heart pounding in his chest. When he finally reached you, he touched your arm gently.

“{Y/N}, please, just give me a second.”

You turned slowly, your eyes meeting his. There was a guardedness there that hadn’t been before, a wall that you had built between yourself and him. It hurt more than James could put into words.

Even then, you took time to notice; Cinnamon Brown in his eyes.

James Potter was used to rejection, Lily Evans ran him like it was a damned sport, but something about your usually positive beaming face turning to a frown at the sight of him wrecked him.

“What do you want, Potter?” You asked, your voice tired, as if dealing with him was just another chore.

He swallowed, struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry. Really. I never meant for things to go this far. I’ve been looking for your brush, I swear it. I… I just want to make it up to you.”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “There’s nothing you can do, alright? Just leave it, Potter.”

“But-”

“No,” You said firmly. “I don’t want anything to do with you. You’ve done enough. I- I thought you were funny, that you could tell a good joke. Take one too. But this- no. No, just leave me be, Potter.”

James flinched at your words, the finality of them cutting deeper than he expected. He watched as you turned and walked away, the distance between you growing with every step.

~~~

James's heart sank deeper with each day that passed without a sign of the lost paintbrush. He had scoured the castle, enlisted the help of some of his housemates, and even tried asking around discreetly in other houses, but to no avail. It was as if the brush had vanished into thin air, leaving behind a growing rift between him and you.

Sitting in the Gryffindor common room, James slumped on a couch, staring blankly at the fire crackling in the hearth. Sirius and Remus were there too, the latter still showing signs of his displeasure over the whole ordeal.

"I messed up, didn't I?" James murmured, not really expecting an answer.

"You did.” Remus deadpanned, not looking up from his book. "And you know it's not just about the brush. It's about how you've been treating her from the start."

Sirius, lounging with his back against the armrest, watched James closely. "You've been a right prat, Prongs- even I gave in after the first prank.” He remarked and avoided Remus’s slight glare. “You didn't just step on her toes, you danced the bloody Tango on them."

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I just wanted to get a rise out of her, see her react. But now... I can't stop thinking about how I made her feel. It's like I'm seeing myself for the first time and it's not a pretty picture."

"Sounds like you've got it bad," Sirius said with a smirk.

Remus closed his book, finally giving James his full attention, not exactly happy with what he was hearing. "It's not just guilt, James. It's empathy. You're finally understanding the impact of your actions on others."

James looked from Sirius to Remus, the realization slowly dawning on him. "It's not like I like her. She's just.. pretty. You know, I hate to see a pretty face so upset.” He scoffed and looked back to Sirius who arched his eyebrow and smirked wider as he realized his remark wasn't as playful as he intended.

“That right?” Sirius pushed and James huffed.

“That’s right.”

“When was the last time you bothered poor Evans?” Sirius challenged and Remus gave a low groan. Great, James just couldn't leave his friends alone.

He watched in a bit of sympathy as the dumb boys jaw slowly went limp and his eyes widened. “Merlin, I think I like her.” He mumbled in absolute dread. “Like really like her. And I've gone and ruined it before it could even start."

"Well, you can't undo what you've done, but you can start making amends," Remus advised, a softer tone replacing his earlier reprimand.

"How? She doesn’t even want to see me," James lamented.

"Give her time and show her you've changed.. And Merlin, don't do this just to win her over." Remus huffed.

James pondered, his gaze drifting toward the flickering fire. "What if she never forgives me?"

"Then you’ll learn a valuable lesson in respect, won't you?" Remus said sternly. "You can't force forgiveness, James. All you can do is prove that you're better than your worst mistake."

“Does Merlin speak straight through you?” James muttered to Remus who swatted him with the book across his lap, before standing.

“I need new friends.” He mumbled as he walked away.

Sirius laughed and James pouted, sinking back into the cushions of the couch. Pondering what would be the next best move when earning your forgiveness. He could live with never being with you, he always found the concept of lost love romantic.

What he couldn't do was live knowing he hurt you without even trying for your forgiveness.

~~~

For the next few weeks, Hogwarts transformed into an entirely different realm for James. Determined to right his wrongs, he threw himself into the role of a repentant suitor with the zeal of a true 70s romantic hero; one who was more often clumsy than charming.

One morning at breakfast, armed with an armful of apology notes penned in his best handwriting (which still looked suspiciously like chicken scratch), James tried to navigate the treacherous waters of your friends’ skepticism and Barty’s disdain. He handed out his notes, his voice tinged with hopeful earnestness that made a few of your friends stifle their giggles. “Could you- um, would you make sure {Y/N} gets these? They’re, well, important.” His cheeks flamed red as he stumbled over his words, but the sincerity in his eyes earned him a few nods. The stuttering and foolish boy even earning a smile from Pandora Rosier who assured him she'd ‘do her best.’

He was getting desperate, at every shred of attention you spared him. During potions class, James attempted to be your knight in shining armor, which, predictably, went about as well as a troll in a ballet shop. When he noticed you struggling to reach a vial of newt eyes on a high shelf, he leapt up, nearly knocking over his own cauldron in his eagerness to assist. “Allow me!”

But his overly enthusiastic grab sent the vial spinning into the air, only to crash down right next to Slughorn’s feet, splattering the hem of his robes with an unsightly goo.

“Sorry, Professor!” James winced, while you suppressed a snicker at the sheer absurdity of his gallantry. Graveling even as he was sentenced to detention.

Now, James knew that if he wanted to be truthful with you it started with his behaviors. Which, started with him being truly himself. So, much to Remus’s annoyance, James turned to grander gestures.

He managed to convince the house elves to let him borrow the kitchens for an evening to bake you a peace offering. Armed with sugar, flour, and an overabundance of misplaced confidence, he set about creating what he envisioned would be a culinary masterpiece. The result was a lopsided cake with icing that read, "Forgive me?" in wobbly letters. Only, half of the cake was callapsed, making it seem much more like a command of “give me”.

He presented it to you during dinner, his hands shaking slightly as he placed it on the table. The entire Great Hall watched in anticipation as you took a bite. The cake was oddly salty, but when your lips twitched into a reluctant smile, James felt a surge of pure elation. Maybe, just maybe, his efforts were thawing your icy regard.

He even tried serenading you one evening in the common room, guitar in hand- a skill he had hastily learned over the past week. His voice cracked more than once, and the guitar was slightly out of tune, but he sang with such heartfelt passion that even the portraits along the walls seemed to listen in. He crooned to you, mangling the melody as he went. You watched, half-amused and half-astonished, as this boy who’d never shown an interest in music before butchered the song with endearing enthusiasm. Everyone in your common room appalled.

Through it all, James's exploits became the talk of Hogwarts. Whispers followed him everywhere- some mocking, others admiring. Some even amused that his attention had switched from Lily Evans, to you after years of pining. But beneath the laughter and the rumors, a thread of respect grew among his peers. Here was James Potter, chasing redemption as doggedly as he’d once chased after mischief.

Late one night, as James sat by the fire reflecting on his recent life choices, Sirius plopped down next to him, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “Prongs, you’re a bleeding heart wrapped in a jester’s cloak,” Sirius shook his head with a grin.

James laughed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I just need to know she forgives me, Padfoot. That I’ve made things right.”

“Well, mate, at the very least, you’ve given the whole school a good show,” Sirius chuckled. “And who knows? Maybe our little Slytherin is writing her own notes now; ‘How to Tame Your Marauder’ or something more poetic.”

James smiled, gazing into the flickering flames, hopeful and a bit wiser. In his quest to win your forgiveness, he’d stumbled across something unexpected. Something worth it. Not just you, but a desire- no, need- to better himself. Every time he saw you smile, made you laugh, roll your eyes, he wanted to be someone better. Someone who deserved to find themselves feeling the magic of being in love with a girl like {Y/N} {L/N}.

And maybe he'd even find himself worthy of her affection in return.

~~~

It all came to a head one day when he was scouring the school once again for your paintbrush. He had lost track of time in his mindless routine and forgotten about potions class. He was a half hour late, dashing into the classroom in a ruffled mess.

His breathless arrival didn’t go unnoticed, especially by you, who eyed him warily from your spot at the potions bench. Professor Slughorn eyed him with a mixture of irritation and curiosity.

“Mr. Potter, so kind of you to join us,” Slughorn boomed, sarcasm heavy in his tone. “Twenty points from Gryffindor for your tardiness, it's almost as if you left to miss my instruction specifically.”

James grimaced but still tried to flash his playful smile that usually meant a clap back or snark. Instead, it was his form of a hesitant apology. “Sorry Professor-”

“I am not going over the instructions for Amortentia a third time today, is anyone willing to assist Mr. Potter?” Slughorn announced form the front of the class. There was a long moment of silence. Even with everyone slowly growing fond of him, no one was willing to drag down such an important project for the foolish boy.

Then, from across the room, your voice cut through the tension. "I can help him, Professor," you said, your voice calm but with an edge that didn’t entirely mask your reluctance. Everyone's heads turned towards you, including a visibly surprised James.

"Very well, {Y/N}. Please ensure Mr. Potter catches up without disrupting the rest of the class," Slughorn replied with a nod, turning back to his notes.

James approached your bench, a mix of gratitude and nervousness evident on his face. As he took the seat next to you, he whispered, "Thank you, I really mean it."

As James settled beside you at the potions bench, his hands fumbled slightly with the equipment. Slughorn, having returned to the front of the class, continued with his lecture, oblivious to the dramatic love story unfolding at the back.

James cleared his throat softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Really, {Y/N}, thanks for helping me out here. I know I've been... well, less than admirable lately."

You didn't look at him immediately, focusing instead on measuring out rose thorns with precision. "Just start by adding these to the cauldron slowly.” You instructed, handing him the thorns. "And stir- don't let it settle."

As he followed your instructions, his movements were careful, mirroring the cautious tone he was taking with you. After a moment, you finally met his gaze. "You've been trying hard, haven't you?" You muttered, not unkindly. Your eyes drifting over his focused expression and having to fight a smile.

James paused, the stirring rod in his hand still. "I have. I want to make things right, not just with you but... well, I've been thinking a lot about things I've done. I'm sorry, truly."

You watched him, the sincerity in his eyes striking a chord that made your heart ache. What had you done to the famous James Potter? His efforts over the past few weeks hadn’t gone unnoticed- it was quite entertaining. From the awkwardly presented cake to his out-of-tune serenades, his actions spoke far more than his words ever did. "I've noticed.” You whispered. "It's been hard to miss, really. Hogwarts hasn't been this entertaining in years."

A small smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "I guess I've made a bit of a spectacle of myself."

"Just a bit.” You chuckled, the tension easing between you as the familiar rhythm of your banter found its footing again.

Encouraged by that sweet sound of your laugh and the pretty way your lips curled into a smile he just adored-, James continued, "If there’s any chance I could, you know, maybe start over? I’d understand if not but-"

"You're really laying it on thick with the humility, Potter. It’s a good look on you.” You teased gently, turning back to the potion, which was now bubbling contentedly. "Let's just take it one day at a time. But, yeah, we can start with being friends."

James let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, relief washing over him. "Friends, right. And if you ever want to throw more paint at me, just say when."

"Be careful, I might take you up on that.” You warned with a playful grin.

As the class progressed, you both fell into an easy rhythm, the earlier awkwardness replaced by a budding conversation. James was surprisingly adept once he focused, and you found yourself laughing more genuinely than you had in a while at his self-deprecating jokes and clumsy yet earnest attempts at potion-making.

By the end of the class, not only had you two successfully brewed a passable batch of Amortentia, which thankfully didn't smell like sweat and regret. James had shown you a different side of himself, one that was humbly trying to make amends and move forward. And as you packed up your supplies, sharing a light joke about the day's mishaps, it felt like a fresh start was truly possible.

James took the chance to smile back at Remus and Sirius. Sirius seemed delighted for him, and Remus seemed hesitant. But it was okay, because you hadn't just forgiven him. You were willing to be his friend.

~~~

James slowly realised that being your friend was likely one of the best feelings he's had in a while. He thought everyone you had met were your friends, considering how sweet and lovely you were with everyone.

But he was wrong.

There was a crazy side to you that only a small few saw. He learned it quickly, that you were sweet, kind, understanding- yes.

But you were an absolute gremlin when you wanted to be.

James discovered this one evening when you invited him to join you for a late-night painting session- a tradition you shared with a select few. Remus told him about them, but he never really understood just how amazing it felt to have your full attention like this. He had anticipated a serene evening, maybe learning a bit more about your magical painting techniques. Instead, he found himself in the middle of a chaotic spree of creativity that involved more prank-like antics than actual painting.

How in the bloody hell had he not known you properly?

As James entered the room, he was immediately hit by a flying glob of paint. It splattered across his face, dripping down his cheek. He stood, stunned for a moment, before hearing your laughter from behind an easel.

“Oh Potter, rule one. Never let your guard down.” You taunted and quickly hurried over to your canvas. Able to notice how the bright pink paint clung to his Jet Black hair.

Wiping the paint off with a sleeve, James couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a spark of challenge light up within him. "Oh, it’s on, {Y/N}." He responded, grabbing a palette loaded with vibrant colors.

What ensued was a wild mess of laughter, artistic ‘attacks,’ and impromptu paint duels that left both of you covered in every hue imaginable. Hindsight is 20/20- he shouldn't of worn his school robes. It was during these moments, dodging your playful ambushes and crafting hasty shields out of canvas boards, that James realized how comfortable he felt around you. Your laughter became a soundtrack he looked forward to, and your approving nods at his clumsy attempts at art warmed him more than he expected.

“It's humiliating how good you're getting at this.” You teased from your perch on a stool, James chuckled and playfully flipped you off.

“So much sass. And if I credited this to my teacher?”

“You should, I'm bloody good.” You laughed, wiping your nose before sneezing away some of the wet paint you forgot was on your hand.

That night became a normal accurance, it was like you two never fought. You two would find yourself laying on a tarp full of paint. You were laying on your back with your legs against the wall, and he was sitting with his back against said wall. Both of you looking off into dead space as you both talked about the most random and ridiculous things; from the controversial taste of pasties to the value and control one had over each other's fates.

“You know, everytime I come here, I remember why I've fallen for you.”

His words came out before he could stop himself. His jaw dropped at his own broken honesty, horrified that he had ruined the moment.

After a moment of silence, he looked down to see you smiling at the ceiling.

“Is that so?”

James swallowed thick and clenched his jaw a bit.

“Yeah.”

“That's awfully sweet of you.”

Your words were light, but they carried a weight that settled over James with an unexpected warmth. He watched you, admiring the serene expression on your face, highlighted by the ambient light that filtered through the scattered paint jars around you. He welcomed the twist of his gut like an old friend.

"I mean it, though," James continued, a hint of vulnerability in his voice as he leaned his head back against the wall, his gaze still fixed on you. "You make it easy to be myself, to be better. You've turned what started as a mess into something... pretty great."

“And isn't that just life?” You teased softly. “Sappy, messy, and yet an absolute masterpiece.”

“Is that what you truly believe?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just say what makes sense to me in the moment.”

“You're a pain.” He chuckled and looked down, seeing your smile had grown tenfold. Your nose scrunching up and the corners of your eyes wrinkling.

James couldn't resist the infectious energy of your smile. It pulled a laugh from deep within him, a genuine, carefree sound that filled the room- he was screwed. "You're brilliant, you know that? Absolutely infuriating, but brilliant."

You shifted to sit up, leaning against the wall next to him, paint smears marking both your faces and clothes. "I'll take that as a compliment, Potter. Coming from you, it means quite a lot."

And that was all. James hadn't even registered your soft rejection, just relieved you seemed to accept him regardless. He leaned his head on your shoulder and you flicked off some stray pain from his nose. He smiled, all teeth, before he got up and forced you to your feet. Pulling you into a dance that made you cackle like a proper witch. And that was enough. To see you so bloody happy was enough.

~~~

James learned to share you quickly. With Barty always on your heel or Pandora hovering listlessly at your side.

He even grew accustomed to seeing you draped in the easy camaraderie of Ravenclaws and your fellow Slytherins, your infectious laugh filling the spaces you all occupied together. It was during these times that James learned to appreciate you in a new light- not just as a friend or a fleeting crush, but as a vibrant part of his Hogwarts experience.

It wasn’t always easy, of course. The sting of his previous actions lingered like a shadow at the edge of his thoughts, a reminder of the consequences of his thoughtlessness. Yet, each shared smile and each shared conversation with you wove a new thread of respect and affection into the fabric of his daily life.

As winter deepened and the snow began to blanket Hogwarts, bringing with it the festive buzz of the upcoming holiday season, James found himself more reflective. The common room was often aglow with the warm light of the fire, students gathered around in cozy clusters, and it was here that James found a new sense of belonging. Not just as a Marauder, but as a friend among a wider circle that included you.

One chilly evening, as the wind howled outside and the frost painted delicate patterns on the castle windows, James approached you with a tentative peace offering- a sketchbook. Its cover was a simple, deep blue, but inside, he had taken the time to fill the first page with a clumsy yet earnest attempt at a magical painting. It wasn’t animated like yours, but the colors were vibrant, a silent testament to his efforts to understand your world.

You accepted the sketchbook with a surprised chuckle, flipping through the blank pages before pausing at his painting. “This is for me?” You asked, a softness in your voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Yeah,” James nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking uncharacteristically shy. “I thought… well, I thought you could use it to capture the winter. I know it’s not magical like yours, but-”

“It’s perfect, James,” You interrupted, a sincere smile breaking across your face. “Really. Thank you.”

That smile, that simple moment, seemed to close a chapter on the earlier tensions between you two.

“Of course, it's not free.”

“Id expect nothing less.” You teased and he chuckled.

“Quiddich. You never go to the games. All I ask, next week, come and cheer me on?” He offered and you couldn't up but laugh. “Are you asking for a lucky charm, Potter?”

”Not any Lucky charm. Mine.”

~~~

The day of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin arrived with the usual buzz of excitement and rivalry. The stands were packed, a sea of red and green as students cheered boisterously for their respective houses. James, his nerves on edge, had been secretly looking forward to seeing you in the crowd, especially after your promise to wear Gryffindor red. It was a small victory, but for him, it meant the world.

However, as he scanned the crowd from his broom high above, his heart sank a little. There you were, indeed wrapped in a bold, red scarf, but still cheering enthusiastically for Slytherin. The sight was confusing and, if he was honest with himself, a bit disappointing. Throughout the match, James tried to focus on the game, but his eyes inevitably kept drifting back to you. Each cheer for Slytherin felt like a playful taunt, and his competitive spirit took a hit each time.

Despite his best efforts, the game didn't go well for Gryffindor. Slytherin was sharp, coordinated, and relentless. When the Slytherin seeker caught the Snitch, sealing their victory, a wave of green cheers swept the stands. James landed his broom with a tight expression, his disappointment not just in the loss, but in the mixed signals you seemed to be sending.

The teams made their way back to the locker rooms amidst mixed reactions from the crowd. While his team consoled each other and talked about what went wrong, James couldn’t shake off his gloom. He avoided the usual post-game mingling, instead heading straight for the Gryffindor common room, his mood as dark as the clouds above.

As he slumped into an armchair by the fire, the common room mostly empty due to the ongoing celebrations outside, Remus and Sirius walked in. They took one look at him and exchanged a glance.

“Tough game, Prongs,” Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Yeah. And I guess the whole wearing-red thing didn’t mean what I thought it did,” James muttered, not meeting his friends' eyes.

Remus, ever the perceptive one, added softly, “Maybe there’s more to it, James. Did you ask her about it?”

Before James could respond, the portrait hole opened, and you stepped in, still wearing the red scarf, your expression a mix of concern and determination. Seeing you, Sirius and Remus excused themselves with knowing smiles, leaving the two of you alone.

James, as avoidant as ever and riddled with emotions he didn't want to confront, stood sharply and turned towards his dormitory. You gawked at him before furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance, a pout taking over your expression. You hurried after him.

“What's wrong, Jamie?”

Oh Merlin.

“I don't want to talk to you.” James hissed out and shoved his way into his room. You huffed and shoved the door open and walked in, closing the door behind yourself.

“You're not being very fair right now. I'm sorry I couldn't win the game for you but-”

“Do not make this about the win.”

“What is this about then, Jamie? I don't get it!”

“Stop calling me that.” He hissed and turned to face you, making you flinch.

“What's gotten into you?” You pushed cautiously and James scoffed.

“I can't do this! I don't get you!” He strained. “I tell you I've fallen for you and you brushed it off. I ask you to cheer for me and you show up in red, cheering for Slytherin!”

“James, it's my house.” You muttered softly and you saw his shoulders sag.

“Yeah but- I just figured-” He gave a long shaky sigh. Turning around and sitting on the bed, running his hands over his face.

You moved closer, taking a seat next to him on the bed, your own emotions swirling. Even then you were able to take notice. His teeth were strained by his jaw, yet they held the same Ballet White. His robes shimmering with Burnt Scarlet and Butterscotch. His eyes that locked onto yours so vulnerable, giving that perfect Cinnamon Brown. Then the way his hair shagged over his Jet Black lochs. You couldn't look away. Not from all your favorite colors.

“James, I wore red because you asked me to. I thought it was a way to show you that... that I care. But I'm still a Slytherin, and my friends were down there on that field too. I was cheering for them, not against you."

James looked at you, the frustration softening in his eyes as he processed your words. "I know, I know. It's just... everything got mixed up in my head. Seeing you there, in red, but not for Gryffindor. It felt like you were there, but not really with me."

You took his hand gently, squeezing it. "I was there for you, James. Maybe not in the way you expected, but I was there because you matter to me. I cheered for Slytherin, but I wore your favorite color. Can't I support both?"

James let out a small laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders. "When you put it like that, it sounds perfectly reasonable. I just... I guess I let the game get to me more than I should have."

"You're passionate, that's not a bad thing. But sometimes, you might see competition where there's just... affection." You offered him a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood further.

He returned your smile, this time with more warmth. "Affection, huh? So, you admit there’s something?" James teased, trying to shift back to his usual playful demeanor.

"Maybe I do.” You teased back, nudging him lightly. "But don't let it go to your head. We still have a lot to figure out, starting with how to handle house rivalries during Quidditch matches."

James chuckled, his spirits visibly lifted. "We'll figure it out. As long as it means I get to see you in Gryffindor red, maybe I can even cheer for Slytherin once in a while."

"That’s a deal.” You agreed, feeling the gap between you closing as the misunderstanding cleared up.

Just then, the door burst open, and Sirius poked his head in, a mischievous grin on his face. "Are we all forgiven and friendly now? Because there’s a victory party for Slytherin, and I was hoping to steal your girl for a dance, Prongs."

James rolled his eyes, but his smile was genuine. "Only if you promise to bring her back, Padfoot."

You laughed, standing up and offering James a hand up. "Let’s go then. And maybe we can start a new tradition- dancing together, no matter who wins the match."

James took your hand, standing and pulling you into a quick, grateful hug. "Sounds like a perfect plan."

Before he could pull away fully, you stole a quick kiss against his cheek. He gave a startled huff, staring at you with wide eyes. Before he could scamper out any response, or even kiss you back, you pulled away and sent him a wink. Hurrying after a laughing Sirius as he took your arm like a gentleman would.

It took James two to three business days for his system to turn back on. “H-hey, wait!” He shouted after you, stumbling over himself and hitting his foot against the bed. Giving a small curse before he stumbled back after you, not hearing the soft clank of something falling from between his head board and the dresser.

Later that night, you two would find your mother's paintbrush, nestled between his bed posts and pillows.

What were you doing in James Potter’s bed so late?

Experiencing a masterpiece.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #james potter #sirius black #Remus Lupin #james potter x you #james fleamont potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #lily Evans

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ghostfacd · 1 year ago

Text

𝙄𝙉 𝘼 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙇𝘿 𝙁𝙐𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙀𝙉, 𝙃𝙀’𝙎 𝘼 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x fem!slytherin!reader

genre: fluff, sweetheart enzo, brief suggestive content, enzo is a big softie basically

summary: in a world filled with men, there’s lorenzo berkshire, a sweetheart and gentleman

Lorenzo Berkshire was a sweetheart.

Everybody knew that the down to earth Slytherin couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to, and weirdly did not fit the stereotypical mean Slytherin persona despite hanging with Draco and his friends.

In fact, a lot of things that Lorenzo did were out of the ordinary for his crowd of people. Whenever Draco would pull a first year by their backpacks so their bodies would fling back, Lorenzo always muttered an apology after, offering the first year a cookie the next day. It was just who he was; he was a sweet boy, and that often meant he was also very clueless.

Sure, he was smart in his classes, but in everything else? Lorenzo was practically the virgin of all virgins.

“Her eyes are up here Enzo,” Pansy teased, watching as Lorenzo’s eyes finally shifted off your chest to look at Pansy in the eyes.

“Huh?”

“Well I know they’re nice,” you tease further, “but it’s rude to stare, y’know.”

“Oh,” Lorenzo’s eyebrows furrow, clearly confused. He’s either great at playing the dumb role or he genuinely has no idea what you and Pansy are inciting.

“What do you mean?” Lorenzo then moves his hand over to touch the gold colored necklace on your neck. “I was just looking at the new necklace you got. It’s nice.”

Oh. You didn’t think anyone would notice your new necklace. You bought it over the holidays when you went back home with your family, and had just started wearing it now.

“Thanks Enzo,” you say, placing a kiss on his cheek. He pulls back flustered, but he mutters a you’re welcome under his breath.

“LO BOY!” Lorenzo is quickly pulled into a headlock by no other than Draco Malfoy, who seems to find his friend struggling hilariously funny. “Oh what’s wrong Lo? Got your head in a knot?”

“Boys.” You and Pansy mutter, rolling your eyes as you both get up from your seats, heading to the much more quiet Great Hall.

- - -

The next time you see Lorenzo is in your Potions class. He’s on the left of you, and you’re almost falling asleep at the boring lecture of your professor. He always seem to talk more than actually teach how to mix potions.

“Pssst,” Lorenzo mutters to your partner as he hands her a slip of paper. “Be a peach and pass it to Y/N?”

Your partner, who has developed a little crush on Lorenzo only blushes, accepting the piece of paper and tapping you on the shoulder.

“Here,” she says, “it’s from Lorenzo.”

Your eyebrows quirk up, slowly unfolding the crinkled paper.

Your hair is pretty today

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. Lorenzo just knew how to swoon a girl over, didn’t he? He doesn’t even have to try and your knees would still feel weak.

So my hair isn’t pretty on other days?

You scribble down, passing it back to your partner who passes it to Lorenzo.

His eyes grow wide when he reads it, opting to shake his head quickly.

“Not what I meant,” Lorenzo mouths.

“I know,” you mouth back, giving him a smirk. “Thank you Enzo.”

And you both end up more pink than the potions that were made in class that day.

- - -

“What do you even do in your free time?” Theodore asks, poking Lorenzo’s cheek repeatedly to annoy him. “Like read?”

“Like read?” Lorenzo mimics back. “Yes, I read. You should too Teddy, it’d be good for you.”

Theodore rolls his eyes, “I don’t need to read. And don’t call me Teddy.”

When you arrive in the dining hall, Theodore and Lorenzo already make a space for you to sit in between them. Usually, Pansy and Draco would be sitting across from the three of you, but today, they were off doing Godric knows what.

“Pans and Draco not here today?” Lorenzo asks, still focusing on the assignment he was finishing up before dinner ends.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “No idea what they’re doing.”

“Oh,” Theodore chuckles, “I have a few ideas.”

That makes the two of you burst out laughing, and Lorenzo finally looks up from his paper.

“What?” He asks. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh Enzo,” Theodore places a hand on his friend’s back, “never change.”

Lorenzo rolls his eyes, shrugging Theodore’s hand off. “Whatever that means.”

When Theodore finally heads off to the Slytherin common room, you and Lorenzo are left alone, the small conversations of the other students surrounds the two of you.

“Working hard on that assignment,” you say quietly to Lorenzo, bringing up your hand to pull a few strings of hair that were poking his eyes.

“Well someone’s gotta be the smart one in our friend group,” he says teasingly.

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not smart?” Your hands start to wander, coming to each of Lorenzo’s sides to tickle him. He was especially ticklish around his abdomen.

“H-hey! Stop that!” He laughs, pushing your hands away. “Okay okay, we’re both the smart ones.”

“And Pansy,” you add.

“And Pansy.”

- - -

When you walked out to the lake that sat across from the Slytherin common room, you didn’t expect to find Lorenzo feeding the ducks. He was crouching, softly throwing a few pieces of crushed up bread at the ducks that now surrounded him.

“What are you doing Lo?” You ask, walking beside him.

“Not too loud,” Lorenzo says, “you’ll scare them away.”

He continues doing what he does before he runs all out, deciding to finally turn to you and throw an arm around your shoulder. “Evening.”

“Evening Enzo,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was out of habit, and you did it regularly, but it didn’t stop Lorenzo from blushing every time it happened.

“I was feeding the ducks,” he explains, although it was pretty clear what he was doing. “I like them, they’re nice and pretty. Draco sometimes throws rocks at them, so it’s kind of my way of apologizing for him.”

You ruffle Lorenzo’s hair slightly, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Oh Enzo, you sweetheart.” But he doesn’t hear you, instead, choosing to admire the scenery of the lake.

- - -

“You know what’d be funny?” Mattheo says, already laughing before he could get out the rest of his sentence. “If we pied the girls. Pansy and Y/N.”

Lorenzo’s ears perk up at this, but he keeps quiet. Why was his friends always looking to get into trouble?

“They’d totally kill us,” Theodore comments.

“That’s why we have to do it.”

The boys had already gotten two pies and their plan figured out before Lorenzo could stop them. He watched as they hide it behind their backs, approaching you and Pansy who were both engrossed in your conservation.

“Wait,” Lorenzo mumbles, quickly following his group of friends. When he sees their hand from their back move as they speak to you and Pansy, he steps in front of the two of you, getting hit straight in the face with the two pies.

“Huh..” Lorenzo says, wiping away the whipped cream that was covering his eyes. “Key lime.”

“Enzo,” you say, knowing that this was probably one of Mattheo or Draco’s dumb ideas again. “You guys apologize to Lorenzo right now.”

The three boys sigh defeatedly, muttering a quiet sorry to their brunette friend who’s still wiping the whipped cream from his face.

“Why’d you do that Enzo?” You ask him as the two of you sat down on the grass. You’d finally got all the whipped cream off his face with a towel, and although Enzo won’t admit it, he was kind of grateful he did end up getting pied. After all, a pretty girl was cleaning him up after all, and not just any pretty girl, his close friend.

“Cause you’re too pretty to get pied.” He shrugs, which makes you smirk.

“Too pretty?”

“Well yeah,”

You laugh at Lorenzo’s honesty, and finally, you lean in to give him a kiss on the lips instead of the side of his cheek.

“Did you just-”

“Shh,” you say, grabbing ahold of his hand. “Just let me appreciate you right now. In a world full of just men, you’re a gentleman Enzo.”

And Lorenzo only smiles, knowing he’s finally got the girl of his dreams.

#lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x you #Theodore Nott #Draco Malfoy #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #louis partridge #louis partridge x reader #louis partridge x y/n

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livinginshambles · 1 year ago

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I thought you'd be different | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: A cinderella story (maybe a little romeo and juliet while we're at it) but Hogwarts - Enemies-ish to lovers. You find an enchanted parchment through wich you anonymously talk to a stranger (James). When you meet him at the Yule ball, he is not who you expected, but you give him a chance. When you realise that was clearly a mistake, you flee cinderella style.

Probably part one of two again.

Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Discrimination issues, themes of bullying. Regulus is our friend. James is an idiot, but we knew that already. Sirius sucks.

Masterlist. Part two. Part three

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

You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory. That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you close your eyes.

“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what your sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.

“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.

But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.

You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments. A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.

“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard. “Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”

“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eye roll, but seemed unphased.

“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step. “10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you pettily decided.

“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” With a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.

When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.

You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.

James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner. He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air.

James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl, crying on a bench under the tree appeared.

James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams. Credits to Professor McGonagall, who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.

It’s beautiful.

You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.

Thank you, I’ve been dreaming about this for the past two days.

You frowned at yourself, unsure why you would disclose such information, but figured no one would be able to trace this back to you anyway.

James blinked at the response he got, mouth open in surprise. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. It must simply be a spell of some sort after all. He stared at the sad drawing and the sentence, and then he made up his mind, writing back.

It must be lonely for that girl to cry by herself under the weeping willow.

Your eyes followed the words that formed in a trance.

If she ever feels lonely again, she can always pour her heart out on this parchment. I’ll be the mighty guardian wizard that will make all her worries magically disappear.

A grateful smile made its way up your face and when you scribbled back a response, James couldn’t help but smile as well.

Maybe she will.

You doodled a wizard sitting on the bench next to the crying girl, a consoling hand stretched out.

That's how you became James’ best kept secret. He learned that you were indeed a student at Hogwarts, but that you felt lonely. That you enjoyed butterbeer, but never got to enjoy it on a Hogsmeade outing with friends, because you rarely had any. He learned that you felt inferior to your siblings and a disappointment to your parents. He noticed how you would draw a circle as the dot on your ‘i’ and learned, when he asked, that you did that because you had once seen Professor McGonagall do that when you were in your first year, and had practiced mimicking her handwriting, should it ever come in handy.

In return, he had told you that he felt pressured by the reputation that he had to maintain. He loved Quidditch and absolutely despised Ancient Runes, to which you had replied, “who doesn’t?”. He told you that he had illegally learned to become an Animagus, a stag, and that he wasn’t sure yet what the future would hold for him. He even revealed to you that he desperately wants to protect his friends and sometimes had nightmares, which usually resulted in a sneak around the castle at midnight. When you had asked him if he’d ever been caught, he responded with, “never”, and had explained to you that he had an invisibility cloak.

Two months passed and before you knew it, you were explaining Transfiguration through the enchanted parchment. You did conclude from this that your pen pal was most likely in a year or two higher than yourself but decided not to comment on it. James on the other hand, was under the assumption that you must be from his year, as you managed to help him study for his exams.

But now, it was almost 12 o’clock midnight, and James chewed his lip while he looked at the parchment. He hesitated for a moment. Then he decided to ask you the one question he had been yearning to know the answer to.

Who are you?

You looked at the paper sadly, and sighed.

You’d be disappointed.

I understand if you don’t want to reveal yourself. But know that I could never be disappointed by you, Willow.

James sighed when you didn’t answer anymore. He waved away the light that emitted from the tip of his wand and took his glasses off. He went to put the parchment under his pillow as usual, when he saw the scribbling movement that he’d gotten so accustomed to.

He scrambled to grab his wand to shed light on the paper but accidentally nudged them off the nightstand and onto the floor, where it rolled under his bed. James’ eyes flickered back to the paper in his hand, and he managed to catch the first letter of your name as it was written in capital letters.

But your cursive handwriting, the dark and lack of glasses made it impossible to read the rest of your name. When he finally reached his wand and put on his glasses, he heard the clock strike twelve and he cursed as he grasped the parchment tightly, hurried ‘lumos’ and saw that the parchment had reset itself to a blank page again, just as every night at 12 o’clock at midnight.

Wait, please! I didn’t catch it before it erased itself. Please write it again?

You let out a sigh in relief after you had internally bashed your head against a wall.

No, it was stupid of me. I’m glad you didn’t see it.

You leaned back into your armchair with a racing heart. You couldn’t believe you had done that.

“Regulus,” you acknowledged as you pulled the chair back to sit next to him in the library. “Y/N,” Regulus quietly responded without looking up from his book, and if you didn’t know any better, his straight face would indicate annoyance. Luckily, you did know better.

“You smile any brighter, the sorting hat will transfer you to Hufflepuff, you know,” you teased him.

His face distorted in a grimace and without missing a beat, he replied, “do kill me before such a thing occurs.” You shook your head and finally sat down. Then you pursed your lips in thought.

“You know how I’ve been working all summer to earn galleons?”

“No.”

“Well I did.”

“So it seems.”

“Anyway, I rented a small flat,” you blurted out. Regulus finally looked up at you, surprise almost evident on his face. Then again, you didn’t have the most amazing home situation either. You often opted to stay behind at Hogwarts for the holidays. It is how you two had befriended each other, especially ever since Sirius left him to his own devices at home. Parents, it was a trauma bonding thing.

“Congratulations,” he nodded, his voice trailed off as he tried to see how this would concern him.

“So I thought you might want to stay with me over the Christmas holidays? Your mother doesn’t hate me, so I thought it might be possible. Gives you a chance to get out once in a while.” You tentatively brought up the sensitive subject.

“And what makes you think living with you will be any more bearable than living in my own mansion?” Regulus snarkily remarked.

You squinted your eyes at him in a scowl. “A simple ‘no’ would suffice don’t you think?”

“Do I have to pay rent?”

“Depends on whether or not the answer impacts your decision.”

“So not then.”

You huffed.

“Fine, I suppose I could join you in your small flat.”

“Merlin, don’t go doing me any favors Reg, I wouldn’t want to owe you.”

Regulus shook his head in amusement.

Satisfied with your rather successful attempt to invite him over, you got up. The chair you sat on screeched loudly as it was being pushed back. You could feel the librarian’s furious eyes on your back and rolled your eyes at her as you made your way to the door. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” you waved your hand in the air and exited the room.

You made it approximately two steps when you spotted your sisters again. “Of course you would cause a disturbance in the library,” Marla spat at you. You raised your eyebrows but remained unimpressed.

“I see you’ve got your buddies to back you up now?” you commented and tilted your chin slightly upwards. Your eyes flickered to your other sister, their closest friends, and the marauders.

For a moment, you considered walking away, but there was just something about that twitching lip of your sister that had you irked.

You stepped forward, narrowing the gap between you and your sister. You leaned in slightly and then, “Boo.”

It took your other sister, Alyssa about one second to have her wand pulled out and pointed at your throat.

James watched the interaction with a small frown on his face. He didn’t really speak with the fellow Gryffindor twins, but their friends and Lily were friends, so the marauders had joined them on their way towards the courtyard.

His mind flickered to a conversation he had had with ‘Willow’ about her sisters, and he wondered if you felt the same sadness and inferiority as his pen pal. And with that in mind, he pulled Alyssa back by her robe with one harm, the other lowering her raised wand.

“Let’s not,” he shrugged, when she raised her brows in question at him.

“She clearly threatened my sister,” Alyssa defended.

You scoffed at that. “I said ‘boo’. That’s hardly a threat,” you rolled your eyes and glanced at James who tried to offer you something that resembled a smile.

Was he mocking you? “Fancy yourself a hero, don’t you, Potter.”

“Hey, I was just trying to help,” he raised his hands in defense.

“Cause you’re such a good soul,” you sarcastically remarked.

“Yeah, actually. At least better than you. That hostility is so uncalled for,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, and you shot him a glare. “Right, better than me. Let me ask the two-dozen tormented Slytherin students you’ve bullied this past year. Bet Snape will buy your self-proclaimed ‘kindness’.”

You were already walking away when Sirius opened his mouth to call something out to you, but James kicked his shins in attempt to shut him up. Your words resonated in his mind.

Maybe he was a twat.

Am I a twat?

What the bloody hell are you on about?

Someone called me a twat today. Now that wasn’t necessarily true, but the implications were there.

Did you deserve it?

Sort of.

Sort of?

I mean, I am only an asshole to people who are assholes themselves and deserve it. But I guess that makes me an asshole too.

You hesitated for a moment and decided to write your opinion on the matter.

Maybe you being an asshole to people makes them assholes. And then it becomes a vicious circle. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that bogger.

You reckon?

Wouldn’t have written it down if I didn’t.

On a brighter note, do you have a date for the Yule ball after the exams?

If you’re asking me out, I already promised my friend that we’d go together.

Oh right. But would you save me a dance? Maybe at midnight under the main crystal chandelier?

James bit his lip again in suspense. The Yule ball is a masked ball anyways, if you don’t want to reveal yourself.

Midnight, main crystal chandelier. You decided to leave it at that. Besides. You could enchant the mask a little extra, so you’d be even more unrecognizable. You wondered who would be behind the kind words of the parchment.

It felt strange to you. Really looking forward to something to the point you could feel jitters in your stomach in anticipation. But it was having a certain effect on you that even the younger Black couldn’t help but miss.

Regulus squinted his eyes and moved his jaw in thought. When he had had enough, he pulled you aside.

“Out with it.”

You deflated. You knew that he knew what he was talking about, so you shrugged. “Someone asked me to save a dance next week,” you mumbled.

“And you want to?” Regulus’ tone shifted to an incredulous one.

“I found an enchanted parchment in the room of requirements and it’s connected. I’ve been using it to have conversations with a mystery person.”

It felt great to be able to share this with your friend and you leaned against the wall behind you. “So yeah.” You finished the confession with an awkward hand gesture.

Regulus took a moment to register what you said. And then, as if it was the most normal thing ever, he responded with, “I see. And you have no idea who?”

You let yourself slide down the wall and tiredly put your head on your propped up knees. “Probably a Gryffindor.”

Regulus started laughing. You snapped your head up and scowled at him, not that he was used to anything else from you.

“As long as it’s not a mudbl-“

You kicked his legs and made him lose his balance. You shot him a warning glance. “You know my opinion on that.”

Regulus sighed. You had once confided in him about your home situation, including that time when you had overheard your parents argue when you came home for the first time after having been sorted into Slytherin. Your father had addressed the matter as soon as you walked through the door.

“You’re no daughter of mine.” He had said with disapproval in his voice. It wasn’t meant as a figurative insult. It was a statement. Your father believed that you could simply not biologically be his daughter. The words had you avert your eyes to the floor in shame.

“My entire bloodline has been sorted into Gryffindor.” He had looked at your mother. “Your family does have Slytherins. She’s most likely the result of your affair with that muggle a decade ago. It is possible.” And just like that, he had practically disowned you.

“Okay,” Regulus relented. “We’ll see who it is next week.”

James was nervously looking around, standing partnerless in the middle of the dancefloor. He had long forgone the mask that he had chosen because it prevented him from using his glasses. He looked at the great clock just above the table with drinks and pulled a hand through his hair.

It was time, so where were you? Hopefully you hadn’t chickened out yet because he was absolutely dying to meet you.

There was just something about you. It sparked something in him that he hadn’t felt since Lily. He’d look forward to your messages all the time. Every morning, he practically jumped up in anticipation and excitement as he reached under his pillow to read your ‘good morning’ message for the day. A smile would pass his lips each time.

James was ripped from his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder blade. It tapped twice. He stopped breathing for a moment before turning around. And then the breath was knocked out of both of you completely.

For two different reasons.

James stared in awe at you. You wore a white and silver dress, covered in diamonds. A delicate white mask covered the upper part of your face, and he stared intently at your eyes, but somehow, he still couldn’t pinpoint who you were.

He could see all of your features clearly, but as if he was in a dream, he somehow couldn’t piece everything together to identify you. A charm, he realized. He was disappointed but shook it off. If you felt insecure, then he wouldn’t push it.

James’ face broke out in a grin, and he stepped forward. He couldn’t help but reach out to your face. But you took a step back. His hand fell and he frowned at your reaction, suddenly scared. He wasn’t wearing a mask after all. Compared to you, he was completely vulnerable.

Before he could say anything, you cut him to it. “No,” you hoarsely managed. “This was a mistake.” You turned around and escaped from the center of the dancefloor. James chased you.

“Wait, please. I’m sorry!” He called out after you.

You slowed your pace when you reached the corner next to the staircase. Then you shook your head with a sight, and you pinched your nose. James could see your furrowed brows.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. But my intention wasn’t to dance with James Potter. It was a mistake. Sorry for wasting your time.”

James shook his head in his turn. “Don’t say that,” his eyes pleaded. “So you know who I am. Am I..” He hesitated. “Am I that bad? I don’t know if you’ve heard any rumors about me, or what made you have a bad impression of me, but I’m the one you’ve been talking to for the past months.” He looked at you desperately. “Give me a chance, please. I only ask for a dance.”

Your eyes flickered over his sad face. You knew James from all the pranks that he did, mostly committed towards your house. You knew him from the banters you had with him, and from crying students that you undid hexes for. You knew him from pushing him out of the way as he purposely blocked your path to throw insults at you.

But you also knew the boy from the enchanted paper. The one who listened to all your worries. Who offered advice and indulged into your hopes and dreams for the future. You knew the boy who confided in you all his deepest secrets and own insecurities. Who made your day and cheered you up with his jokes and positivity.

“I can give you a dance,” you caved, and you offered him your hand, which he scrambled to hold.

James was a fairly decent dance partner, you soon discovered as he guided you with grace. “So I suppose you dance often?”

“I just practiced a lot,” he sheepishly admitted. “I had to impress you somehow, you know. Someone like you had to be crazy out of my league after all.”

Your lips twitched. “I think you’ve got it all backwards, Potter.”

“You know you can call me James, right?”

“Well, James,” you enunciated his name. It felt weird on your tongue. You had only ever spoken his last name in contempt. “I’m not very liked by more than half the students of this castle.” You motioned towards your mask. “Hence the enchantment,” you added halfheartedly.

“You don’t have to tell me who you are,” James immediately assured you, and you did relax at his words. “I’m just really happy that you’re real.”

You let out a laugh. “Why would I not be real?”

“I don’t know,” James whined. “Maybe I was just talking to really sentient paper or something?”

His answer only made you laugh more. James’ grin only spread wider.

“Whoever you are, I wouldn’t judge you,” James added quietly. You watched him silently as you swayed around the room.

“That’d be a first,” you joked sadly, remembering your own family.

“What can I say, I’m just different,” James cheekily winked and then twirled you around.

“We’ll see about that, James. You have the rest of the night to convince me.”

The dance ended and you curtsied to each other, out of breath. “But you’ll have to excuse me while I go find a bench because my feet are killing me. These heels are no joke,” you groaned in pain and sort of started to limp your way back.

James quickly came to support you and held your waist as he escorted you back to the side of the room. When you discovered that there were not in fact any benches, you sat down on the first few steps of the staircase. He raised his eyebrows when you kicked off your heels and saw that the entire slipper was made of glass.

“I transfigured those shoes myself, you know,” you proudly stated. James looked at it in disbelief. “This can carry a human weight?”

“Yeah, it took a lot of different enchantments and attempts,” you admitted.

James’ disbelief changed to awe. He took a seat next to you and you two started chatting about random things. You looked at James’ profile as he talked about Quidditch and felt soft towards him. Maybe he really wasn’t so bad after all.

The two of you were deep into a conversation when you were interrupted .

“Who is this, Prongs?” Sirius curiously stepped forward and shook your hand. You couldn’t help but grimace at him.

You politely nodded and explained the situation, but even though you engaged into a civil, nonchalant conversation, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the presence of James’ friends.

“Anyways,” Sirius leans in towards James. “Did you see Snape over there?” He nodded his head towards Snape, and you squinted your eyes at the boy in front of you.

“You’re not thinking of doing anything to him, are you,” you sharply asked. Both James and Sirius were taken aback by your new tone.

“Nothing harmful,” Sirius laughed, but it faded when you simply raised your eyebrows at him. Sirius looked towards James for help. James hesitated. He had been reluctant to indulge Sirius’ ideas ever since his conversation with you about being a twat. But Sirius was his friend.

“We’re just having a bit of fun,” James tried to explain. “We’re just joking around, besides, he’s in Slytherin, so definitely a blood supremacist.” Your face fell at his words.

You watched his features contort in disgust and suddenly you were eleven again, and all you could see was your sisters disgusted face.

By the time you had snapped out of it, Sirius was already making his way towards Snape. James had gotten up and his head flickered between you and his friend.

You got up as well.

“I really thought you’d be different, James.” You scoffed to yourself. “You really had me convinced there for a moment. But I understand that you’re really just a bully after all, blinded by prejudice. You really are a twat.”

James’ heart dropped at hearing you say those words. He felt ashamed and shook his head pleadingly as he searched for words. But the thing is, you couldn’t care less, because you were hurt too. So you turned around and fled up the stairs as fast as you could, just in case he would come after you.

“Hey Prongs, you coming or not?” Sirius called out. James looked back at Sirius as he contemplated his next move. He mouthed ‘no’, and then tried to run after you. But by the time he reached the hallway that you had disappeared to, you were nowhere in sight.

In denial, James ran towards the moving staircases and looked up, in hopes to find you there.

Had he looked down, maybe he would have caught the last shimmer of reflection of the diamonds on your dress.

James refused to give up, however and he started to knock on the paintings, hoping that they could tell him where you went. He just had to apologize.

A symphony of protests and yelling echoed within the hall. “Quiet you!” “Have you no respect for the sleeping?” “I will complain to Filch about this, young man!” “Leave us alone!”

When the voices resided, most portraits were empty, their contents having escaped elsewhere.

Defeated, James groaned and hit his head with his fists. “You stupid git!” he yelled out in frustration at himself. James slouched down to sit on the stairs. Then he reached for the parchment and a pen in the inner pocket of his jacket and started scrambling something down.

“Please answer,” he whispered. He almost had to laugh at how pathetic he must look.

You sat on your bed after having made your way to the Slytherin dorms.

I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I said that. I’m stupid and I ruined everything. Please let me make it up to you. I enjoy being with you, I don’t want you to think of me like this.

Like I said before, this was clearly a mistake.

James read your words over and over again and he buried his face in his hands in shame. He stayed there for a long while and by the time he returned to the room, the party was over, and people had started returning to bed. On the left side of the staircase were your enchanted glass slippers precisely where you’d kicked the off and left them.

Preview of part two

Part two

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maxdibert · 2 months ago

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The nickname “Snivellus” derives from the word “snivel,” which means crybaby. So, Snivellus was basically a way of mocking the fact that Severus might show his emotions—that instead of toughing it out like a stereotypical, macho, strong, hairy-chested man, he cried. I don’t think I need to explain why this nickname is problematic—any nickname used to bully someone is problematic—but a nickname that also references a supposed weakness, stemming from the expectations of a patriarchal society for men to display “unmanly” behavior typical of “weak” men, is not just problematic due to the bullying itself but also because of the misogynistic implications it carries. Because yes, misogyny and hegemonic gender roles also affect men by demanding certain traits from them to validate them socially. And I know the Marauders lived in the 1970s, and that Rowling is one of the worst when it comes to gender issues. But I find it quite ironic how Marauders Stans or Slytherin Skittles, who have built their trash fandom and constant Snape-bashing around the topic of LGBTQ+ themes, have the audacity to mock Snape using a nickname that directly attacks gender nonconformity and justifies a toxic, traditional masculinity that shames men who cry or show emotions, labeling them as less valid.

The Marauders weren’t social justice warriors, and James and Sirius, in particular, embodied the classic values of male success through the performance of stereotypical “macho” characteristics: as leaders, as “alphas” of the pack. Both are violent; both are cocky men who try to stand out and mark their territory. Both exhibit behaviors that have typically been excused in men just because they are men, such as abusive and reckless behavior. Their nickname for Severus stems from the idea that showing emotions—especially crying—if you are a man, is a reason for ridicule and mockery because men don’t cry. Men are supposed to be strong, puff out their chests, and keep going because that’s what men do. It’s a misogynistic and archaic mindset that continues to be perpetuated in social models and relationships to this day. And I find it incredibly hypocritical that certain people who claim to hate J.K. Rowling for being a transphobe then go on to appropriate the horribly sexist nicknames she created for a group of heterosexual men embodying toxic masculinity to bully another man for not performing the traditional masculine model expected of someone like him.

Because Severus wasn’t a “macho”. Severus was a studious introvert with a more passive character who didn’t fit into the masculine vision of the time. Everything about him, including his appearance, demeanor, and interests, is unmasculine from a hegemonic perspective given the historical context. But these people don’t care. They’re so limited, so ignorant, and so cynical that they not only ignore these kinds of nuances but even find it funny to reproduce insults that any real-life James Potter would probably have used against them.

Make no mistake: James Potter and Sirius Black wouldn’t have been your friends. They would have tortured you as much, if not more, than Snape. And that’s the most pathetic part of their fandom, unfortunately.

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prythiansprincess · 2 months ago

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— wicked games.

NAVIGATION // inbox. tags. writing. library.

pairing: regulus black x reader x theodore nott.

song inspiration: wicked games by the weeknd.

author's note: happy thirsty thursday babes. please enjoy this delicious little fic I cooked up whilst deep in a state of delusion.

You hated him.

Absolutely loathed him.

There were no words in the English language that could properly describe the pure wrath that Theodore Nott awakened within you. As a Gryffindor, you were well aware of the stereotypical fiery temper attributed to your house that you were currently living proof of, but you just couldn’t help it. The animosity between you and Nott seemed to bring out the worst in you.

When you first started dating Regulus, you attempted to make peace with the Slytherin, but Nott seemed hell bent on waging war against you. More often than not, the two of you had to be pulled apart from tearing each other to pieces. Regulus knew better than to fight your battles for you, but he did find it amusing to watch you hand Nott his annoyingly arrogant arse on a silver platter.

“Nott’s just so…ugh,” you ranted as Regulus lifted you up onto the marble counter. “And he makes me feel like blegh.”

Your boyfriend settled between your legs, carefully dabbing at the wine stain on your brand new white shirt. The tasteful little addition was courtesy of the aforementioned menace, who accidentally knocked his drink over across the table at the exact spot that you were occupying after you mercilessly beat him at tonight’s poker game.

“Theo annoys the fuck out of you and you want to kill him?”

“Yes, exactly!”

Regulus hummed as he unbuttoned your blouse, his slender fingers making swift work of the article of clothing. His cold hands felt soothing against your feverish skin, sending shivers down your spine as he skimmed the underwire of your bra. The wine had seeped right through, staining the pink lace with crimson.

“Sounds to me like you’re frustrated, mon amour.”

You were, but for an entirely different reason now. The anger coursing through you gave way to desire, its heat simmering to a boil just beneath your skin. Regulus stared intently while you traced the shape of his wine stained lips. Holding his breath, your boyfriend groaned as you pressed a soft kiss against his mouth, fingers sliding up to those pretty curls that felt like silk beneath your touch.

The heady taste of red wine and cinnamon mixed and mingled as you swirled your tongue against his, gasping into your boyfriend’s mouth as he gripped your thighs and pulled you towards him until your legs instinctively wrapped around his midsection. You were drunk off of Regulus, his taste and touch and scent as intoxicating as the wine dancing on your tongues.

“I’d be more than happy to help, love,” Regulus murmured as his lips skated over your throat. “Let me take your mind off of things, yeah?”

“Yes please,” you breathed as Regulus spread your legs wide open.

The cold kiss of his rings caressed the inside of your thighs. You watched through a heavy lidded gaze as your boyfriend knelt in front of you, his handsome face marked with mischief. As he peppered kisses at the junction of your thighs, something dark and possessive flashed through his pretty green eyes, piercing you in place.

It felt obscene to witness him like this. The sight of Regulus Black on his knees was heaven. Dark curls falling over lust blown eyes, looking up at you through thick lashes as he gripped your thighs. Regulus watched, cocking his head between your legs before he kissed the top of your knees.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he lifted up your skirt, bunching the fabric around your waist before slowly tugging your panties down to your ankles. Patience had never been your strong suit, but you didn’t dare rush your boyfriend. Instead, you savored the kisses that he pressed against your skin, his soft lips like satin on your calves, knees, and thighs. You held your breath in anticipation, your body buzzing with desire as your boyfriend licked and sucked and marked every surface available to him.

Regulus chuckled as you bucked against his mouth, eager for friction. His eyes were blown out with lust as he glanced up at you. “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

You jolted as he patted your thigh, but obeyed nonetheless. With a pleased smirk, Regulus hooked your legs behind his shoulders and came face to face with your soaked cunt.

“So wet for me,” Regulus hummed as he ran a finger through your folds. “That’s my good girl.”

The words unlocked something inside of you. It didn’t matter how many times your boyfriend called you that, it never failed to turn you on. “Reggie, baby, please…”

“You know I can’t resist when you beg, mon amour.”

Without another word, Regulus obliged your plea. The first lick had you keening, your soft and breathless moans echoing through the bathroom. Your boyfriend smirked before yanking you over the edge of the sink and burying his head between your thighs. Your cunt ached for him, clit throbbing as he easily worked you with his mouth and lips and tongue. He licked and sucked like a man starved, eating you out until your back was arched against the mirror, fingers scrambling for anything to hold onto.

It always amazed you that Regulus, a man who took great pride in restraint and discipline, completely lost any semblance of control when it came to you. There was something hedonistic about the way he feasted on you, his dark curls plastered to his sweaty skin, his slender fingers gripping the meat of your thighs, his mouth glistening with the evidence of your arousal.

Regulus unleashed was fucking divine. Your boyfriend knew your body like the back of his hand and he put that knowledge to use, curving his fingers inside of you and chasing the action with his tongue.

“God, Reggie,” you panted as he flicked his tongue over your swollen clit. “Baby, I’m going to —“

“Hey lovebirds, stop defiling the loo,” interrupted an irritatingly familiar voice. “I need to piss!”

You cursed under your breath as your mood instantly soured. The presence of Nott on the other side of the door killed any chance of you ever coming. The twat truly had a special talent for spoiling what would’ve otherwise been a fantastic orgasm. You groaned, frustration and anger bubbling up inside of you all over again. This was fucking personal now. You were going to take his bloody head off for it.

“You know that’s exactly what he wants, right?” Regulus mused as he helped you off the counter.

“To cockblock me? Yes, I’m perfectly aware.” You said with a scoff. “He’s only doing it because he can’t accept that he lost to me.”

“I don’t think he’d be this petty over a poker game, love.”

“I’m not talking about the game,” you responded, hopping off the counter and smoothing down your skirt. “I’m talking about you, baby.”

Regulus raised a brow. Clearly, he wasn’t convinced, but you were. You knew the real reason behind Nott’s antagonism, which began when you started dating your boyfriend.

“Theo still has a thing for you,” you explained. “Honestly, I can’t blame him. I’d pine after you, too.”

Your boyfriend chuckled. “You’re being silly, darling. Theo and I had a fling in fifth year, but it never went anywhere past that. He’s not the relationship type.”

You knew all about the short-lived fling. After all, there were no secrets between you and Regulus.

“Don’t remind me. You could’ve done so much better than Nott. At least aim for a Riddle, babe.” The pointed look you sent his way earned you an amused smirk. “Anyways, that’s not the point. I’m not saying that Theo wants to date you. I’m saying that he wants to fuck you and I’m standing in the way of that. That’s why he hates me. I took his toy away.”

“I’m a toy now?” purred Regulus as he pinned you against the sink. “You certainly do enjoy playing with me, don’t you, darling?”

You groaned as he squeezed your arse. “This is exactly what I mean. If I lost you, I’d do everything in my power to get you back too, which is why Nott has been a bloody pain in my arse since we started dating. He’s infuriating. I don’t know how you ever put up with him.”

“Well, there are ways to shut him up.”

You sighed. “My methods would send me straight to Azkaban.”

Regulus considered your words for a moment. “You just have to think a little more creatively, darling. The thing about Theo is that he’s a tease. He gets off on it. The more you react, the more he’ll keep pushing your buttons. Maybe you need to start pushing back.”

Curiosity sparked within you. “What are you saying, Reggie?”

The smirk on his face all but confirmed your suspicions. “I think you know exactly what I’m saying, love.”

The common room was filled with drunk ramblings and boisterous laughter by the time you and Reggie returned to join your friends. The two of you settled in just as Enzo started taking bets for the winner of the next game. As the drinking picked back up again, you decided to rise to your boyfriend’s challenge.

“Surprised the two of you even came back,” Theo whispered salaciously. “You seemed a little busy back there.”

“We were,” you replied with a cheerful smile. “But I’m in the mood for a different game now.”

Nott blinked as you leaned closer, twirling the end of his tie between your fingers. Confusion was etched all over his face, but you didn’t miss the shaky breath he released when you tugged him down to eye level.

“You should know that I intend to win.”

The moment was broken before anyone noticed, but it may as well have been written all over his face with the way Nott flushed crimson. Curious blue eyes landed on you before Theo cleared his throat and directed his attention to Enzo.

“Setting the trap, I see,” Regulus murmured in your ear as you settled into his lap. “Just be gentle with him, yeah?”

A smirk curved against your lips as Nott shot another confused glance your way. “No promises, baby,” you replied with a giggle. “You know I like it rough.”

Your boyfriend’s laughter rumbled in his chest as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Let the games begin.”

You started off small. Just a few lingering touches and coy glances that could’ve otherwise have been brushed off by the wine. For the most part, the only person who seemed to take note of the slight shift in your demeanor was Nott.

“You’re in a better mood,” Theo remarked suspiciously. “Regulus finally managed to knock the stick up your arse, I take it?”

On any other occasion, you would have threatened to shove your wand up his arse in retaliation, but instead you threw your head back and laughed. To his utter astonishment, you flashed Nott a charming smile and placed your hand on his chest.

“Oh that’s too funny, Theo.” You batted your lashes at the stunned Slytherin, smirking slightly as his gaze darted between your face and hand, which was still firmly pressed against him. “You’re a riot tonight, aren’t you?”

“Seriously, what’s happened to you?” Theo muttered. “That comment would’ve earned me a curse or a hex. A slap, at the very least.”

“Is that what you want?” You asked in a low, sultry voice. Theo tensed as you twirled his tie between your fingers. “Do you want me to be mean to you, Theo?”

“Yes — I mean no —” You watched in amusement as Theo stuttered over his words, his cheeks flushing progressively deeper to reflect his flustered state. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I’ll warn you now. You won’t distract me from winning the game.”

“Good luck, Nott,” you said with an innocent smile. “You’re going to need it.”

Despite his warning, your ploy was working better than you could've imagined. Even when Enzo began explaining the rules of the game, you could feel Theo watching you. Regulus smirked as you settled on his lap, proud of the progress that you were making. Thanks to his suggestion, the night was finally starting to get interesting.

As the game went along, you were unsurprisingly in yet another deadlock with Theo. The two of you were tied for first place at this point while the others lagged behind. You watched as Theo rolled the dice, smirking when he rolled to his advantage. He counted out each number and advanced his character on the board, putting him precisely one step ahead of you. Petty fuck that he was, Nott knocked your piece over as he set his own down. The pink bunny that you had chosen tumbled to the floor and underneath the table.

“Oops.” Theo smirked as he glanced over at you, his demeanor conveying that the move was both spiteful and intentional.

“That’s okay,” you responded cheerfully before crawling on your hands and knees to retrieve your character.

The piece had landed on the far end of the sofa, prompting you to crawl towards Theo. He tensed as you reached across, your body pressed against his while you rummaged beside him. Positioned sideways over his lap, the strategic move gave Theo an ample view down your shirt as your perky breasts spilled out of your red lacy bra. Your thigh brushed against his arm as you wiggled around and nearly put your arse in his face.

“For Salazar’s fucking sake,” Theo muttered under his breath as he snatched the pink bunny from underneath the table and handed it to you.

Nott couldn’t meet your gaze as you happily retrieved the piece from the palm of his hand. He was nearly frozen when your fingers made contact, his entire body coiled with tension while you smirked.

“Thanks, Theo.”

He nodded begrudgingly as you crawled back into your boyfriend’s lap. Regulus patted your arse in congratulations as Theo grew redder by the second.

“Mate?” Mattheo asked. “Did you hear what Malfoy said?”

Theo snapped out of his reverie. “What?”

“It’s your turn, you dolt,” Draco responded with an eye roll.

Winning after that was like taking candy from a baby. It was entirely too easy to pull an otherwise obvious move over Nott given the fact that he appeared seconds away from crawling out of his own skin. The prat kept having to readjust himself the more you messed with him. The sight was satisfying to say the least.

After your unchallenged victory, a joint was passed around amongst your friends. Combined with the ego boost that came with toying with your supposed enemy, the weed left you feeling loose and relaxed.

When it was your turn to take a hit again, you inhaled deeply and kept the smoke in your chest before tapping on Reggie’s bottom lip. Your boyfriend happily obliged, those kaleidoscope eyes trained on you while you tipped his chin and blew the smoke into his mouth. With a low growl, Regulus finished you off with a filthy kiss that had the rest of your friends hooting and hollering.

Dazed, you smiled softly and wiped the gloss from your boyfriend’s mouth. You were vaguely aware of Theo’s gaze burning holes into you, but the desire to rile him up was superseded by your desire for Regulus. The more the two of you smoked, the touchier you became.

Regulus lounged lazily on the couch, long legs splayed out in a sexy manspread. His tie hung loosely around his neck, barely covering the love bites you’d left on his throat last night. You traced the marks with your fingers possessively, following the trail down his collarbone. Your boyfriend pressed soft kisses against your neck while you unbuttoned his shirt, red nails stark against his pale skin as you ventured lower.

By that point, your friends had left to raid the kitchen pantry. Only you, Regulus, and Theo remained.

The waves of the Black Lake lapped gently against the stained glass windows, its murky waters bathing the common room with green ripples. The air was thick with smoke, making it hard to see through the haze. Across the couch, Theo murmured something, but it barely registered as you straddled your boyfriend.

Regulus abandoned the conversation with Theo as you positioned yourself over his erection, groaning while he pulled you in for a heated kiss. Present company forgotten, you parted your lips for Regulus and gasped when he slid his tongue inside and licked the roof of your mouth. Smoking was quickly replaced with making out.

You couldn’t get enough of Regulus. He felt like silk and tasted like sin.

You could tell by the way his cock twitched in his pants that he was thoroughly enjoying this. Even more so when Theo squeaked in surprise. Regulus grinned against your lips before lifting your skirt up slightly and squeezing your arse, giving your audience a sneak peek of your red lacy panties.

“God, you’re so hot, baby,” you murmured as you kissed his neck. With a smirk, you glanced over your shoulder and found Theo staring at the two of you with a dazed expression. “Isn’t my boyfriend sexy, Theo?”

Theo blinked. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, Reg is a good looking guy.”

You tapped a finger against your chin. “You’d know all about that. You had a crush on him back in fifth year, didn’t you?” The panic in Nott’s eyes made you grin. “I guess we have more in common than you think.”

He looked like a deer in headlights. You fucking loved it. “Hm? Um, briefly. That was ages ago though.”

“Oh, but who could forget?” You hummed as you sucked at the hollow of Reggie’s throat. “Do you remember his sweet spot? Right here, it’s his weakness. The first time I made him whimper, I nearly soaked myself. Was it the same for you?”

“I — you — you know?”

“Of course. Reg and I tell each other everything,” Theo gulped as you held his gaze. “We’re good at sharing.”

Nott readjusted himself on the couch, his eyes not quite meeting yours.

“For instance, Reg told me about your little game. He said you get off on riling people up. Is that why you’re always being a pain in my arse, Theo?”

“No…” Nott said rather unconvincingly. “You’re…you two are together.”

Regulus shook his head. “That’s not what she asked, Theo.”

Theo gulped. “Fine. Maybe I do enjoy driving you mad.”

You chuckled. “You hear that, babe? He finally admits it.”

Your boyfriend smirked as you slinked off of his lap. He gave your arse an appreciative pat before you strutted towards Theo. Those piercing blue eyes locked onto you, tracing every step with unveiled scrutiny. He held his breath as you draped yourself over his lap.

Regulus leaned back from where he sat, fully enjoying the show. While he thoroughly enjoyed putting one on for Theo, you knew that watching you drive his friend to the brink would turn him on even more. Your boyfriend loved watching almost as much as he loved being watched.

“Tell me, Theo,” you drawled as you traced a line down his chest. “Does making me angry make you hard?”

Theo sucked in a breath as you palmed his cock through his pants. He was hard as a rock, which all but confirmed your suspicion.

“It does, doesn’t it?” You said with a smirk. “You’re such a little brat. I bet you touch yourself after we argue.”

As if on cue, his cock twitched against your palm. Theo blinked rapidly, his eyes heavy lidded as he looked up at you. “Fuck…what — what’s happening?”

“You played your games,” Regulus answered. “Now Y/N is playing hers. I should warn you, she isn’t gentle or forgiving.”

Theo groaned as you licked a stripe against his neck before sucking down harshly. “You’re not the only one who knows how to tease." You slid your hand down his boxers and stroked his cock, rubbing the precum over his tip. “I’m going to play with you until you beg me to stop. Even then, your pretty tears won’t stop me, Theo.”

Theo panted as you stroked him slowly. “Oh fuck, please, bella.”

“You’re so hard, Theo. I bet it hurts, huh?” His cock throbbed in your hand as he nodded. “Do you need help, pretty boy?”

“Yes,” Theo moaned. “God, yes. Touch me, please.”

“So you do know how to be polite,” you teased. “Good to know.”

His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as you began pumping him in your hand. You could taste the desperation emanating from him as his hands twitched at his side. Theo’s fingers brushed your thighs, but the action was full of uncertainty.

“Do you want to touch me, Theo?”

Theo nodded eagerly. You smirked before taking one of his hands and sliding it up your thigh. He held his breath as you moved it further up and guided him to squeeze your arse. Theo groaned as you continued jerking him off, his breaths growing ragged while you carried on with your exploration. He was mesmerized as his rough, calloused hands made contact with soft skin, stopping briefly at your hip before sliding over your stomach until he reached right below your lacy red bra.

Licking his lips, Theo looked to you for direction. You moved his large hand up to cup your breast, closing your fist around his so he could squeeze your tit. Behind you, Regulus finally left his spot on the couch and pulled your blouse all the way off. He placed kisses over your shoulder and peeked at Theo, who watched the whole thing with his mouth gaped open.

When Regulus unhooked your bra and revealed your bare tits to Theo, he growled.

“Touch them,” Regulus commanded.

Theo didn’t need to be told twice. Both hands cupped your breasts, massaging and kneading the soft tissue with a hungry look in his eyes. He looked at your boyfriend, awaiting instructions.

Regulus seemed to understand exactly what he wanted. “Kiss them.”

Theo released a shaky breath. His watercolor eyes burned holes into your skin as he wrapped his lips around your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, causing you to grip his cock tighter. Theo took that as a positive sign and continued to lick and suck at your tits, alternating between the two and tweaking and flicking the one his mouth wasn’t on with his fingers.

Without warning, Regulus tugged your hair back and tilted your chin so he could claim you with a searing kiss. At the sight, Theo bucked against your hand desperately. Watching you make out with Regulus earlier had already caused him problems, but seeing it up close almost had him cumming in your hand.

When you felt Theo getting close, you released his cock and leveled a disapproving expression at him as he whined.

“I didn’t say you could cum,” you said meanly. “ I told you, you’ll regret teasing me.”

Theo sounded pained. “Please, please, I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I’ll do anything you want.”

You and your boyfriend wore twin smiles. Regulus chuckled darkly. “You can watch me fuck her until she cries and then maybe we’ll think about letting you cum.”

You brushed Theo’s hair back, his waves soft and luscious between your fingers. “Can you do that for us, pretty boy?”

“Yes,” Theo answered immediately. “Yes, I’ll be good. I promise.”

“We’ll see about that,” Regulus said.

He smacked your arse and smiled. “Ready, my love?”

You nodded before positioning yourself on your hands and knees on the couch. Theo held his breath as you braced yourself against his chest and arched your back as you looked back at your boyfriend.

“Ready, baby.”

The sound of metal clinking against stone echoed in the common room as Regulus shed his belt. He stroked himself before rubbing his cock through your wet folds, making obscene sounds as he teased you with his tip. Your pussy clenched and squelched in anticipation, eager to have his cock inside of you.

Regulus leaned over to kiss the base of your spine before gripping your hips and easing himself into your pussy. His cock stretched your walls, the delicious drag summoning butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to keep him there forever, nestled in the comfort of your warmth.

Once Regulus was fully sheathed, you gasped for breath and braced yourself. Theo panted as you clawed at his chest, drinking in the sight as Regulus began to move. His pace was slow and steady, testing your patience as he toyed with you, but luckily, being with your boyfriend taught you the importance of restraint. As Theo would soon learn.

Speaking of which, the Slytherin was at the edge of his seat as he watched Regulus fuck you. His gaze darted between you and your boyfriend, surveying the seamless way your bodies fit together. You rocked your hips back slowly and followed the torturous pace Regulus set.

What you really wanted to do was slam all the way back so you could feel him in your guts, but you knew that your boyfriend would reward your discipline like he always did. After a few more shallow thrusts that had you keening for more, Regulus finally took pity on you.

Gripping your hips, Regulus pulled his cock out of you before slamming all the way back inside. You cried out as Regulus pumped in and out of you, burying himself over and over again into your throbbing cunt. The snap of his hips was brutal yet so satisfying every time he hit your sweet spot.

"Tu prend ma queue tellement bien, mon amour.”

Regulus praised you for taking his cock, his sweet words contrasted by the animalistic way he fucked into you.

“You feel so good, baby. I love the way you stretch my pussy.”

Theo cursed under his breath, a mixture of English and Italian that sounded entirely unintelligible to you given the fact that Regulus was currently fucking you dumb. You bunched up the material of Theo’s shirt, your face twisting in pleasure while the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the common room.

“You didn’t even set a concealment charm,” Theo marveled. “Anyone could walk in and see us.”

Your cunt fluttered at his words, making Regulus chuckle. “That’s what makes this so fun,” drawled your boyfriend.

Nott’s eyes widened in return. “Reggie likes the thrill of getting caught. There isn’t anywhere in this castle that we haven’t fucked before.”

“You two are absolutely mental,” Theo grunted. “Though I am learning that madness really fucking turns me on.”

“Of course it does,” you sighed, caressing his cheek. “You’re just a horny little slut, aren’t you?”

“Oh, fuck…”

Judging from the way Theo cursed, your suspicion that he’d be into degradation was entirely spot on. That was the thing about brats. They just wanted someone to put them in their place. You would gladly knock Theodore Nott down a few pegs and maybe peg him too if the opportunity arose.

Smirking, you sucked on Theo’s earlobe and elicited a rather delicious whimper out of him. He tilted his head as you trailed kisses along his neck and jaw, sucking harshly at his skin so he’d be reminded of how easily you could turn him into a desperate mess for days to come. Theo chased after your lips, but you dodged every attempt and relished in his frustration.

“You need a lesson in restraint, pretty boy.” Theo pouted, making you laugh. You wrapped your fingers around his throat and smirked when his pupils dilated. “Maybe I should tie you up, hm? Walk you on a leash until you learn to behave?”

Theo shuddered at the thought. Interesting. You tucked that tidbit away for later.

“Pay attention,” Regulus said with the snap of his fingers. “We’re about to get to the good part.”

Regulus tugged at your hair and picked up the pace. You arched your back, tits bouncing in Theo’s face as Regulus fucked you doggystyle. He drove deeper and deeper with each thrust and leaned over to play with your clit. His fingers worked you up to that sweet release, stimulating the bundle of nerves until you felt that familiar heat spreading through your body.

You came nose to nose with Theo, your lips nearly touching as your ragged pants landed on his cheek. “Reggie, oh my god, fuck m’so close…”

Your boyfriend responded with hard, sharp thrusts and turned his attention to Theo. “Kiss her while she cums.”

Theo nodded dumbly before smashing his lips against yours. The kiss was filthy and sloppy, making it evident that Theo was dying for contact. You panted against his mouth, getting lost in the taste of Theo. He swallowed your screams of pleasure, dominating your tongue with his while you came. When the orgasm settled, Regulus pulled out of you and kissed your cheek lovingly.

“Good girl,” he murmured as he patted your arse.

His cock was coated with your cum and Theo licked his lips at the sight. Regulus smirked. “Do you want to taste her on me?”

“Fuck yes,” Theo mumbled excitedly.

You leaned against the cushions, thankful for the much needed break as you watched Theo go down on your boyfriend. Just as you suspected, Theo was all too eager to please. He knelt in front of Regulus, peering up at him as he licked at his tip. The groan that rumbled through his chest made you chuckle.

Regulus tipped his head back as Theo took him to the back of his throat. He bobbed his head up and down, relishing in the taste of you left on your boyfriend’s cock. He sucked him clean, your juices dripping off of his chin while he gagged and groaned. You could only describe the act as greedy.

“Have you been thinking about this, Theo?” You asked as he licked your boyfriend’s shaft. “You’ve been dying to fuck Regulus again, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Theo breathed. “But I want to fuck you too.”

“So greedy,” you teased. Theo sighed as you stroked his cheek. “What makes you think I’d let you fuck me after all the shit you’ve pulled, hm?”

“Because it would give you power over me,” Theo answered. “I’d be completely at your mercy.”

You smiled. “That’s right, pretty boy. Do you know what turns me on more than anything?”

“No,” Theo responded, hanging onto your every word. “Tell me, please.”

“Control.”

Regulus smirked as you came up behind him and kissed his cheek. “Reggie, baby, don’t you think Theo deserves some kind of punishment for his smartass mouth?”

“What did you have in mind, mon amour?”

“I think you should fuck his mouth until his pretty little throat is ruined.” Theo shuddered at your words while Regulus smiled. “Lay on your back, Theo. Show us what you can do.”

You watched with amusement as Theo laid down on the sofa, his head hanging off the arm. Regulus tapped the tip of his cock against Theo’s lips. He parted them willingly, breathing through his nose as your boyfriend stuffed his length down his throat. Theo gagged as Regulus thrusted deeper, pretty eyes brimming with unshed tears while he struggled to breathe.

You couldn’t help but think that he looked pretty like this. Spreading your legs wide, you rubbed your clit and watched your boyfriend destroy your nemesis. Theo glanced over at you, his mouth watering even more at the sight of you pleasuring yourself to him being ruined.

“Use your hands, Theo,” you guided. “Reg likes that.”

Theo released your boyfriend’s cock with an obscene pop. “I remember,” he retorted sassily. “I know what Regulus likes, thank you very much. Did you know that he likes it when you slide a finger in?”

You merely smiled. “Of course I do.” Theo yelped in surprise when you wrapped your fingers around his cock and squeezed. “Keep fucking talking back, Theo. I’ll sit on your face until you suffocate, you little brat.”

His voice was breathy as you held him in a death grip. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“That’s cute, Theo,” you said with a smile. “Remember that attitude because I’m about to fucking tear you apart.”

Theo held his breath as you tugged him towards the couch. Those watercolor eyes were black with lust as you straddled his lap. He gasped when you grinded against his cock, spreading your wetness all over his shaft. You tugged at his hair and kissed him roughly, sliding your tongue against his while Theo gripped your hips.

When you bit his bottom lip, Theo whimpered in response. You chuckled darkly. “So fucking pathetic. You talk up a big game, but all it takes is a little grinding and you’re nearly cumming your pants.”

“It’s not my fault,” Theo murmured. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mean.”

“Yeah? You like being degraded, Theo?” You taunted as you raked your nails over his chest. ”I’m going to have so much fun toying with you. After all, that’s all you’re good for, isn’t it?”

Theo felt lightheaded as he nodded. “Yes, yes, I need…”

You put your fingers up to his lips and shushed him. “Aw, sweetheart, I don’t give a fuck what you need. This is about what I need.”

“What do you need, bella? I’ll give it to you. I swear to god, I’ll give you everything I have.”

“I need you to fucking behave and do what you’re told for once.” Theo whimpered as you grabbed his chin. “You’ll be a good little pet for me, won’t you?”

“Y — yes. I’ll be so good.”

From behind, you could feel Regulus watching the two of you. You knew he was touching himself by the soft, shallow breaths that echoed in the room. You bit and licked and sucked a trail of love bites down Theo’s neck, making sure that your marks littered his skin. His hands roamed your body, eagerly touching and feeling as much as you allowed.

“Take your boxers off.”

Theo obeyed diligently and discarded his underwear on the floor. He looked up expectantly, waiting for your next command.

“Touch yourself, Theo.”

He pumped himself in one hand, establishing a frantic pace. You frowned and grabbed hold of his wrist. “Slowly, like this. I need you to show me that you can be patient.”

Theo blinked, his expression dazed while he followed the rhythm that you set. “That’s it. Stroke yourself just like that.”

He seemed entranced as you observed him with a small smile. Theo whimpered your name when you replaced his hand, pumping him slowly before rubbing the tip of his cock against your folds.

“Oh god,” Theo moaned. “Fuck me…”

You grinded on his tip, barely letting him slip in and out of your pussy. “Do you think you deserve to be fucked?” You tilted his chin and forced him to look at you. “Cause I don’t think you do. You haven’t earned it.”

“I want to earn it,” Theo said. “What do I need to do, bella?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I want you to sit still while I grind on you and get myself off. No whining, no complaining. Just look pretty and let me use your cock. Can you do that for me, Theo?”

He bit his lip, eyes shiny with desire. “Yes.”

“Good boy.”

You didn’t miss the way his pupils dilated at the praise. Humming, you rocked your hips and let the tip of his cock brush against your clit. Theo gazed up at you as you braced your hands on his shoulder, pushing him down as you grinded against him. The friction the action created was delicious. Heat curled deep in your core the more you rubbed your clit against his shaft.

Theo gripped your hips, his lips parting so he could lick and suck at your tits as you continued to use him. His eyes rolled back as you switched to bouncing on his tip, letting him glide through your folds just enough to feel pleasure. With a swift flick of your fingers, you felt yourself getting closer and closer.

“That’s right, darling,” Regulus murmured, his breaths ragged. “Cum all over his cock.”

Your boyfriend’s words sent you into a tailspin. Before you knew it, you were cumming again. The orgasm rocked you like a wave, crashing over your body with an intensity that set your nerves alight. Underneath you, Theo whined and whimpered. He was so sensitive that it hurt.

“Your pussy feels so good, squeezing me so tight,” Theo breathed. “But I need more, please. I want to bury my cock inside of you. I want to cum until I pass out.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” you snapped. “Brats don’t deserve to cum.”

“Please, please,” Theo begged, his voice hoarse. His eyes were shiny with tears. “Please, Y/N. I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t be a brat anymore. I’ll be good. I’ll be so fucking good for you. I promise.”

“You hear that, Reg?” You called to your boyfriend. “Theo promises he’ll be good. If he breaks that promise, then you have every right to bend him over and spank him until he’s sore.”

Regulus smirked. “It would be my pleasure, mon amour.”

“Yes, yes, please…”

“I love when you beg.” You licked his tears and chuckled. “It’s like music to my ears, Theo.”

“Please, please, fuck me.” Theo begged. “I want you. I need you. Please, Y/N.”

“Aren’t you just adorable?” You taunted as you kissed his cheeks. “Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’ll put you out of your misery.”

Theo watched through a heavy lidded gaze as you lifted your skirt up. His large hands settled on your hips as you eased down on his cock, taking inch after inch while he cursed. He released a shaky breath once he was all the way in, his chest heaving as he looked up at you in awe and wonder.

“Che cazzo,” Theo grunted. “You feel so fucking good.”

“You do too, pretty boy.” You clenched your walls around him, making Theo choke on air. “Do you feel that? You’re stuffing me full.”

“Dio mio, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“You don’t even know what you’re in for,” Regulus said as he slipped behind you. Your boyfriend bunched up your skirt so Theo could see how full of him you were. “She’s going to ruin you.”

“I want it,” Theo pleaded. “I want you to ruin me, bella.”

With that, you rode Theo hard and fast. He could barely catch his breath as you bounced on his cock. You were relentless, you were vicious, and you fucked Theodore Nott like you hated him. It was everything he ever wanted and more.

Theo felt out of control as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, taking him over and over again. The sounds he was making were incoherent, but it was clear that he was out of his mind with pleasure by the way he whimpered and whined.

“Aw, honey, are you already close? I haven’t even shown you half of what I can do.”

Regulus chuckled. “Take it easy on him, love. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

“I know he can take more,” you said. “Isn’t that right, Theo? Don’t you want to be a good boy for me?”

Theo barely managed to rasp out a pathetic yes. It was cute, really. “That’s what I thought. See, I knew you could. Under all that sass, you just want to be degraded and used like the fuck toy that you are.”

“Yes, yes, oh god.”

You giggled as you placed a kiss on his lips. “Look at you, all fucked out. Is this all it takes to shut you up? All you needed was for me to ride your cock until you can’t even remember your own name.”

“Fuck, yes. Yes, use me. Abuse me. Do whatever the fuck you want,” Theo mumbled deliriously. “You own me, Y/N.”

A smile graced your lips. You had him right where you wanted him. “Tell me how much you like being used.”

“I fucking love it,” Theo admitted. “I love when you put me in my place. It’s bloody sexy.”

“You’re lucky I’m even letting you touch me.”

“God, I’m so lucky,” Theo groaned. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you…”

You punctuated each declaration of gratitude with a hard grind, bouncing on his cock while he thanked you for fucking him. The ego boost was enough to make you cum.

“You’re such an obedient little fuck toy,” you praised. “Don’t you love being fucked? It’s all you’re good for.”

Theo moaned. “Am I good? Have I been good for you?”

“So good,” you reassured. “My good boy.”

“I’m so — I’m so close. Can I cum, please? Please, please, let me cum.”

You kissed him deeply as you rolled your hips. “Go ahead, sweetheart. But keep those pretty eyes open, Theo. we want to watch you cum for us.”

Theo obeyed and kept his eyes on you, his nose brushing against yours as he panted into your mouth.

“That’s it, pretty boy.” Theo shuddered as you bounced harder. “Come on, give it to me. I know you want to. I know you want to be so fucking good for me, Theo.”

“Oh fuck,” Regulus moaned. His wrist flicked over his cock and you tugged at his hips so you could put your mouth on him as he came.

The filthy sight triggered Theo. As promised, he kept his eyes on you while he finished. Those pretty dead eyes came to life as he rode out the high and emptied himself inside of you. His cum painted your walls, filling you to the brim and stuffing you full.

Theo collapsed against the sofa, his head lolling over the cushions as you slowly eased off of his cock. A question formed on his face as he held your hips in place.

“What is it, Theo?”

“I want to taste myself on you.”

You smiled and kissed his forehead. “Come get it then, sweetheart.”

Despite the strenuous activities you were previously engaged in, Theo was as energetic as ever. He knelt before you and settled between your thighs, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. You could feel both of them dripping down your legs.

The first few licks were exploratory as Theo gained his footing, but as he established a steady pace, he had you keening in no time. Your back arched off the sofa when his tongue and fingers worked your pussy. He held your hips down while he feasted, the moans spilling out of his mouth reverberating through your clit.

“So good, Theo,” you keened. “You’re so good at eating my pussy.”

“Say it again,” Theo pleaded. “Please, tell me how good I am for you.”

You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled down at him, maintaining eye contact. “You’re so fucking good for me. My pretty boy.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

You came at the same time, the orgasm crashing over you even harder than the last. Theo made a mess of himself, his cum sticky and smeared all over his toned abs. His head dropped in your lap as he gave himself over to the orgasm. The thought of bringing Theo to his knees and making him cum just from eating you out made you glow with pride.

Without having to ask, Regulus helped you put your clothes on and supported you as you stood on shaky legs. Grabbing hold of your wand, you conjured a basin and a washcloth and began to clean Theo up. You made sure to give him plenty of aftercare after such a draining experience. His eyes fluttered open as you peppered gentle kisses all over his face.

“You did so well,” you cooed, stroking his cheek. Theo preened at the praise and attention. “I’m so proud of you. You’re my good boy.”

“You both did so well,” Your boyfriend praised. He kissed both of your foreheads which made you smile. “I knew you could play nicely.”

“Don’t get used to it, baby.”

Theo still looked a little out of it as Regulus brushed his hair back. “You alright there?”

Theo blinked, nodding through the post-orgasm haze. “Y — yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“You did a lot better than I did when she first edged me like that. I passed the fuck out.”

Blue eyes widened as Theo looked up at you. “I…how… that was — fuck.”

Your boyfriend only chuckled. “Trust me, I know.”

You straightened Theo’s shirt and helped him tug on his boxers and trousers back on. “Oh hush, I didn’t even use the collar on him.”

“The collar?” Theo asked with a slight breathiness as in his voice. “What the fuck do you two get up to?”

“That’s a secret, Theo,” you murmured as you kissed his forehead. “But if you behave, you might find out.”

As you settled back on the sofa, your friends began to trickle back in. Enzo and Mattheo fought over the stack of snacks they had nicked from the kitchens while Blaise, Draco, and Pansy trailed behind looking exasperated. Tom completely ignored everyone and retreated back to his dorm.

“We found gummy bears!” Enzo announced excitedly before him and Mattheo dug right in. “You want some, mate?”

Theo shifted in his seat, fidgeting as you leaned over to fix his tie. “Oh, this one has had his fill of treats tonight. Haven’t you, Nott?”

You smirked as he tried to hide his flush. Regulus chuckled as you snuggled against him. “Play nice, mon amour.”

“If I do, will you let me keep him?” You teased and winked at Theo.

“Yes,” Theo nodded excitedly. “Please god, say you’ll keep me.”

#honestly I don't even know what to say just accept that I belong in an asylum #theo nott #regulus black #thedore nott smut #regulus black smut #theo nott x reader #regulus black x reader

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eraenaa · 8 months ago

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Masterlist

Helloooo! I'm Eraena, a college student who loves to write! Here's the masterlist of my works! (Aemond Targaryen, Feyd Rautha, Rafe Cameron, and Aegon Targaryen)

Related Blogs: @romanteacism - All things Aemond Targaryen @rafeacs - All things Rafe Cameron

Tag List

Cheat Sheet:

🏙️ - Modern AU

🐉 - Fire and Blood AU

🏛️ - Greek Mythology AU

🤍 - Personal Fave

👑 - Popular

U.N.I. Aemond Targaryen X Reader 🏙️ Synopsis: Where one of the sons of your mother’s estranged best friend attends the same university as you, and did I mention you were the reason why he lost his eye?

From The Underworld and Beneath Aemond Targaryen x Reader 🏛️ 🤍 Synopsis: You, the Goddess of Spring, were captured by the King of the Underworld, who was intent on keeping you there.

My Knight in Darkened Armor Knight Aemond Targaryen x Princess Reader 🐉 🤍 Synopsis: Ser Aemond Targaryen has been tasked to be the sworn protector of a princess who is overly curious about life beyond the castle walls and has bribed him to escort her to the city in exchange for anything he desires. She just did not know that what he desired was her.

A Bastard's Bride, A Dragon's Desire Aemond Targaryen x Princess Reader 🐉 Synopsis: They have betrothed you to Jacaerys as a way of securing a line to the throne if they fail in usurping your half-sister’s crown. Your older brother Aemond was livid at the decision.

Flipped Aemond Targaryen X Reader 🏙️ 🤍 Synopsis: You had been infatuated with Aemond since you two were children. You could not remember a day when you did not feel anything but adoration for him— not until recently. When something in you turned indifferent, it did not go unnoticed by Aemond, who had never been a fan of change.

Stereotypical Aemond, Son of Ares x Reader, Daughter of Aphrodite 🏛️ Synopsis: The daughter of Aphrodite falls for one of the sons of Ares— the second coming of their parents.

One More Night Aemond Targaryen X Reader 🏙️ Synopsis: You were quick to leave after a one night stand, leaving Aemond dissatisfied, for he wanted so much more. When he found you again, he was sure to never let you go.

The Prince and the Poet Aemond Targaryen X Lannister Reader 🐉 Synopsis: It is established that Prince Aemond hates poems and sonnets; it was just a pity that you adored them.

Jealousy, Jealousy Aemond, Son of Ares x Reader, Daughter of Aphrodite 🏛️ Synopsis: It’s frustratingly hard to keep admirers and doubts away when you and your partner are the most attractive and powerful Demi-Gods in camp.

Most Ardently Aemond Targaryen X Tyrell Reader 🐉 Synopsis: Prince Aemond Targaryen had accompanied his younger brother to Highgarden in hopes of securing Daeron a wife— he did not expect he would want to secure a wife for himself as well.

The Prince's Prize Aemond Targaryen X Riverlady Reader 🐉 Synopsis: After his victories in the Riverlands, Prince Aemond Targaryen sought for a trophy— his spoils of war. He sought for you, the daughter of the lord who hosted him whilst he wagged his war.

But Daddy, I Love Him Aemond Targaryen X Niece Reader 🐉 🤍 👑 Synopsis: When the favored daughter of Daemon Targaryen falls for the favored son of Alicent Hightower, the Rogue Prince does everything he can to ensure that a union between the two of you will never happen.

Gold Rush Aemond Targaryen X Lannister Reader 🐉 🤍 👑 Synopsis: Everybody wants you, and I don’t like a gold rush.

Desperate Requirement Slytherin Aemond Targaryen x Reader 🏙️ Synopsis: It’s hard being horny at Hogwarts. Luckily, you and Aemond always found a way to relieve your needs.

Mine Aemond Targaryen x Wife Reader 🐉 👑 Synopsis: You are the best thing that has ever been Aemond’s, which is why you cannot really blame him for being so possessive and cautious not to lose you.

Loathe to Love Aemond Targaryen x Strong Reader 🐉 🤍 👑 Synopsis: Seeking forgiveness is not a thing Aemond bothers himself with, but that quickly changes when he deeply offended you.

King of My Heart King Aemond Targaryen x Queen Reader 🐉 👑 Synopsis: Marriage, miscarriage, and the monarchy… how would you and your husband fare to them all?

Bound By Blood Aemond Targaryen x Princess Reader 🐉 🤍 👑 Synopsis: They can no longer hinder Aemond from taking whatever he wants, and you are the only one he desperately wants.

Tea Party Aemond Targaryen x Stark Reader 🌃 Synopsis: Aemond convinces you to let Helaena join your group’s exclusive tea party, using any means necessary just for you to agree.

Please Please Please Aemond Targaryen X Lannister Reader 🌃Synopsis: Heartbreak is one thing; my ego’s another. I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker.

Unexpected Affections Aemond Targaryen X Tyrell Reader 🐉 👑 Synopsis: With just a smile, you had managed to bewitch and enthrall the stoic and cold prince.

Blessed Curse Aemond Targaryen x Strong Reader 🐉 👑 Synopsis: When a marriage between you and Aemond was arranged and forced by your grandsire, conflicting emotions arise, but which one will loom greater? Loathing or Love?

Parting Gift Aemond Targaryen X Reader x Aegon Targaryen 🐉 🤍 👑 Synopsis: Aegon asks for a parting gift from his younger brother and his beloved wife: One night with you in exchange for the throne.

Silent Passions Aemond Targaryen X Tyrell Reader 🐉 👑 Synopsis: You and Aemond had been promised to one another before you were even born. And when the time came for you to meet, all were curious to see what was to come when soon to be spouses only shared one thing in common: your want of silence.

Virginal Whore Aemond Targaryen X Celtigar Reader 🐉 👑 Synopsis: Prince Aemond sets out to find a whore to warm his bed; he finds a virgin instead.

Worth The Price Aemond Targaryen X Lannister Reader 🐉 🤍 👑 Synopsis: Aemond does everything to prove that he is worthy of you— even if it means that he would be a kinslayer twice.

Twin Flame Aemond Targaryen X Twin Reader 🐉 Synopsis: Anywhere that you are, that I’d be. Following Aemond to the Riverlands against your better judgment and sensibilities because you knew all too well you could never be apart from your twin.

Prince's Whore Aemond Targaryen X Celtigar Reader 🐉 👑 Synopsis: What proceeded as Prince Aemond had made you his whore.

Birthday Present Feyd-Rautha x Lady Reader 🤍 👑 Synopsis: During a state visit, you, a daughter of one of the great houses, have captured the attention and fatal attraction of the Na-Baron and were quickly turned into his promised wife.

Bittersweet Feyd-Rautha x Lady Reader 👑 Synopsis: As the Na-Baron's proposed bride, you were simply too sweet for him and his bitter being. You were too innocent and pure to be tainted by the blood-stained hands of the Harkonnen heir.

Casual Rafe Cameron x Reader Synopsis: You would settle for causality as long as you had Rafe by your side.

Still Casual? Rafe Cameron x Reader Synopsis: You promised yourself that you’re never going to settle for casual ever again— promised yourself you would never be another casualty of Rafe Cameron.

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) Rafe Cameron x Reader 👑 Synopsis: Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.

Imgonnagetyouback Rafe Cameron x Reader 🤍👑 Synopsis: The plan is clear. Get Rafe back after your breakup.

So High School Rafe Cameron x Reader 🤍 Synopsis: He knows how to ball, you know Aristotle

Please, Please, Please (Rafe's Edition) Rafe Cameron x Reader 👑 Synopsis: Being with Rafe, a notorious hotheaded drug dealer, you knew others would question your relationship— especially your parents, who had never been fond of him. But when his habits had been too much to handle, you knew that you would prefer heartbreak to a broken ego.

Trouble Maker, Stress Reliever Aegon Targaryen X Reader 🏙️ Synopsis: You’re a prefect tasked with taming Aegon’s unruly behavior. Strained by your task, he offers you a way to relieve the stress he caused.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon smut #team green #house of the dragon #hotd smut #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #dune fanfiction #dune smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #obx fanfiction

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megwritesriddles · 4 months ago

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Heavenly Torture ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 11 - Teasing & Degradation. After Hogwarts, Reader and Neville end up working together at Noltie's Botanical Novelties. Reader soon discovers she holds an unexpected power over Neville, one she'll have fun exerting over him at her whim.

Tags: Teasing, Degradation, Oral sex (m receiving), Neediness, Begging, Virgin!Neville, Sub!Neville, Dom!Reader, Slytherin!Reader, Set post Battle of Hogwarts, Coworkers to lovers (??).

Word count: 4.8k

all fandom masterlist | hp masterlist | read it on ao3

Authors note: I know I'm running a day behind right now, I'll try my best to catch up when I can (hopefully monday)!! Another day, another submissive pathetic man... lol!! Also why did this end up so long... all this backstory for what?? Why do I keep doing this?? Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Getting the job at Noltie’s Botanical Novelties, the garden shop on Diagon Alley, had been one of the most relieving moments of your life. Not only did you have an income secured, but they’d hired you despite you having been in Slytherin. It seems silly for you to have been worried about this, given that people are starting to heavily advocate against stereotyping based on houses, but that didn’t mean it had actually stopped happening. At the moment, Slytherins were quite radioactive. Less than a year out from the war, all Slytherins near your age were assumed to be Death Eaters who just escaped consequence based on their age. This, of course, was not true for most of you, and certainly not for you. You’d been on the right side from… well, perhaps not the start, it takes time to shake your upbringing, but probably from some time in the fifth year. However, most people only remembered you as a Slytherin, and that was a decidedly bad thing to be currently. You knew you should have made more appearances at Dumbledore’s Army meetings, but back then you were facing the same issue, avoiding the meetings because when you did go, people would be distrusting of you because of the colour of your tie. Now people barely remembered that you’d been a member at all. It was frustrating beyond belief, but you just had to keep going.

The job at Noltie’s was an undoubted blessing, just a few years ago it would have been a no-brainer for you to get the job, given your expertise, but this year it had truly felt like it wouldn’t happen for you. When you’d gone in to pick up your uniform about a week before starting, Edward Noltie himself had confessed to having been a Slytherin himself in his school days. You wouldn’t have guessed it, the kookie old man certainly reminded you more of the types that come out of Hufflepuff, but you told yourself to stop stereotyping, you had learned its inaccuracies over and over by now. It amused you slightly how much he tried to separate himself from the Slytherin label, only claiming the identity in the past tense, while most Gryffindors were likely to wear their Gryffindor scarves until at least their 200s. You thanked him anyway for his understanding, emphasising once again that you’d had no ties to the Death Eaters. As you were leaving with the bag containing your uniform, he stopped you.

“We actually have another employee with us from your year group at Hogwarts, a very talented young man, instrumental in winning the war, we’re lucky to have him, really. Joined a few months ago,” Noltie chuckled. You smiled and nodded awkwardly over your shoulder. You knew exactly who he was referring to.

There’d never really been any doubt in your mind that Noltie had been talking about Neville Longbottom, but the suspicion is confirmed immediately on your first day. You walked in, hair neatly up as was required (less for aesthetic reasons and more for safety against the various plants stocked that had a tendency to thrash), your uniform tailored to fit you perfectly, and saw him behind the counter. You had been dreading this moment since you realised you’d be working with him. You knew what he’d say to you, how he would call you brave for going against your house, how much he appreciated your efforts during the war, things like that, and you couldn’t be bothered to listen to it. You just wanted to stop thinking about the war, and all the things you’d had to do to survive, but it seemed too much to ask. You took a deep breath and approached him and he did just that. With a serious and sympathetic expression, he began to thank you and commend you. He stared quite intensely at you as he spoke, which made you admittedly uncomfortable, your eyes flickered around the store as he spoke.

“We barely had any Slytherins in the D.A. and I know some people gave you a hard time about it, so I think it’s–” he continued in his solemn voice. You squirmed in discomfort and decided to cut him off.

“Look, Longbottom, all the same to you, yeah? You’re a war hero and all that, so… that’s great, congratulations! Can you show me how the till works now?” you huffed. He blinked in surprise at your little outburst, before flushing slightly, clearly having realised he’d made you uncomfortable in some way, even if he’d only been trying to compliment you.

“Sorry, err… yeah…” he cleared his throat, showing you over to the till on the counter at the back of the store. You walked in front of him toward it and when you turned back to face him, you saw his eyes flick up and his flush deepen a little. You realise with a start that he’d been looking at your ass as you walked. These uniform trousers really were tailored perfectly, so you were sure he’d gotten a good view. You just smiled to yourself and filed the information away for later as he started to explain the machine to you.

The next few weeks go surprisingly well. Sure, you’re only working the till and shop floor rather than actually doing any research or fieldwork, but at least you’re in your desired field, and the work is quite easy. The shop is never terribly busy, and the people who do come in like to spend a while browsing and contemplating, meaning you get to tell them all you know about the plants they’re deciding between, which you find quite fun. Neville works mainly in the backroom, counting stock, moving boxes, and maintaining the plants that can’t be kept on the shop floor because they’re too dangerous or require certain temperature conditions. You help with inventory, letting him know what’s running low on the shelves and making notes of what needs to be ordered for Mr Noltie. Mostly, you’re out of each other’s ways, but that doesn’t mean you’re not highly aware of each other.

You knew Neville had changed over the years, every girl who’d been at Hogwarts was aware of it. You remembered quiet nights while the D.A. had been hiding out in the Room of Requirement, when a bunch of the girls would get together for some girl talk, trying hard to feel a sense of normalcy. Lavender Brown’s idea, which initially seemed silly, actually raised spirits quite a lot. You joined in, even though people were still rather wary of you, being one of only two Slytherins in the room, you mainly listened because of this. The girls huddled together in one corner of the room, while the boys chatted about who knows what in the other, and gossiped about the boys. There was hardly time for romance in the conditions you were in, which is perhaps why so much of it was happening, forced to stay together in one big room and fearing for your lives, you had overheard a lot you wish you never had. Neville ended up being the subject of a few of these conversations. He had changed a lot, becoming taller, broader and more handsome. He had also taken the role of the leader of the D.A., and many of the girls admitted that they quite liked the authoritative voice he used, which made everyone tease and giggle. He was nothing like the timid little boy he’d been for the first few years at Hogwarts, he was a man now, a strong, handsome man. However, no one ever reported any sort of action with him like they did with the other boys. At the time, he became sort of untouchable, which was odd considering he was Neville Longbottom.

These days, he was looking even better. His face was no longer so marred by the constant scrunch of stress as it had been during the war. He’d grown out his hair a little, rather than keeping it quite as short as he had during the war. He overall looked healthier, and even more muscular now that he was able to eat properly, his skin looking less pale and dull. Days of moving and stacking boxes in the backroom gave you plenty of time to subtly watch his muscles. He really was handsome now, though he didn’t seem to even realise this himself. Occasionally, when he’d be bringing stock out front for you to shelve, there’d be a woman in the store who would begin to flirt with him. He always seemed baffled and out of his depth, never flirting back and just trying to escape.

“What was that all about?” he asks you once, poking his head out of the backroom when she leaves. This woman had come onto him particularly strong, trying to touch his arm and invite him to the Leaky Cauldron.

“She was flirting with you,” you chuckle, sorting the coins into the till. He scoffs.

“No, she wasn’t,”

“Yes, she was,” you laugh in disbelief. He chews his lip.

“Only because of what I did during the war,” he dismisses, fiddling with his wand in his apron pocket. It amuses you how insecure he is. But he is partially right, he’s become a bit of a celebrity in the wizarding world, thanks to Harry Potter’s insistence on mentioning Neville’s contributions every time he’s interviewed about the war. Sometimes you think it’s selfishly motivated, wanting the world to focus on someone other than him so he can be left alone, and dumping it on poor shy Neville.

“That could be true I suppose, but I bet she’d still let you shag her,” you grin at him. Neville splutters.

“I… I don’t…” he runs his finger through the collar of his shirt. You chuckle at his reaction, enjoying teasing him like this. “That’s not… I wouldn’t do that…” he swallows thickly.

You’d discovered quickly that you had a certain power over Neville. At first, it was catching him occasionally staring. You’d be leaning on the counter, your ass jutting out slightly as you scribble down inventory notes and you’d glance at the door to the backroom, spotting him peering through the glass door. He’d immediately blush beet red and look away, clearly ashamed to have been caught staring at you. It was sweet, in a way, because most guys didn’t seem to have any shame in ogling at you, at least Neville seemed to know he shouldn’t be doing it, even if he couldn’t stop himself. Slowly, you start leaving more and more of your shirt buttons undone, revealing glimpses of your cleavage. You revel in the way his eyes constantly stray to you as he brings you boxes, taking shaky breaths as you bend over to pick up the little plant pots from the box and organise them onto the shelves. Whenever you talk, you take to standing just a little too close. His height gives you a perfect view down your top, and although he tries his best not to, he takes advantage of this fact often, his eyes flicking down and then his face going red. You like to innocently ask him if he’s feeling warm, which makes him stammer. It’s a bit of fun to fill your days, and quite an ego boost too. Every quiet moment in the shop you take to showing yourself off somehow, or even just chatting to him, which seems to fluster him too.

“You wouldn’t shag her? I thought she was cute…” you tease. He goes a deeper shade of red.

“She’s… it’s not… uh…” he stumbles. You smile, leaning yourself onto the counter in a way you know shows off your ass. His eyes flick immediately down your body and he goes redder, success. “I don’t… shag…” he coughs, looking mortified.

“What? Never? But you’re the saviour of the wizarding world!” you taunt, pretending to be shocked, when really it had become abundantly clear not long into working with him that despite how much his looks had changed, and his confidence in every other area, women still made him unbearably anxious, especially you.

“I- I mean I…” he stutters and then straightens up. “This is none of your business,” he asserts shakily. You shrug.

“Just curious about you,” you smile flirtatiously, watching as he blushes once more and avoids your eyes. “Do you never want to shag? Some people are like that and it’s perfectly fine–”

“No! I… uh… I do want… oh Merlin!” he groans, burying his face in his hands. You press on, pretending not to realise how uneasy he is, delighting in his discomfort.

“Well, then what was wrong with that girl? She was cute… more than willing…” you taunt, taking a few slow steps toward him now.

“She just… it’s not… I can’t just…” he stammers, eyes following you until you’re right in front of him. You catch his eyes flicking down to your cleavage. You smile.

“Are you a virgin, Neville?” you ask bluntly. He twitches anxiously.

“I’m not answering that,” he squeaks, but you both know that it’s answer enough. He sighs, seeing the smug way you’re smiling at him. “It’s just… the only girl I’ve ever liked enough to do that with didn’t feel the same, she… never wanted to do that sort of thing with anyone… like you were just talking about,” he mumbles, avoiding your eye.

“Luna?” you hum. He just nods. You’d heard about that through friends, his wartime confession and her confession that she did not experience romantic or sexual feelings for anyone. To many people, it had seemed a completely foreign concept. You imagined that, even though he’d been understanding, it had probably felt like another blow to his confidence.

“It’s… that’s over now… she’s my friend and I respect her… I don’t feel that way about her anymore…” he rambles. His eyes flicker over your face. You believe him, you touch his arm, making him tense.

“You poor thing,” you coo gently, rubbing your thumb over the bare skin of his arm, feeling the muscle underneath. “You must feel pathetic, saviour of the wizarding world, women lining up, and yet you’re still a virgin,” he jolts slightly, not expecting your words. He feels confused, your tone is sweet and soothing, but your words are insulting.

“I- I don’t, I’m fine,” he stammers, his cheeks red as he looks at you cautiously. What are you playing at? You pout and tilt your head.

“Poor baby,” you coo again, making him nervous.

“Why are you–?” he cut off when the bell above the door jingles, signalling a customer entering. You pull your hand away with a teasing smile, he just stares a little dumbly at you as you return to the till and greet the customer. He can’t help his eyes from straying to your ass, perfectly hugged by your uniform trousers. He’s never felt this crazy before, this overtaken by lust. He wants you and something about your faux-pity has made it worse. He hadn’t felt this way about Luna, he’d liked her first and foremost, he never ogled her like this, never felt this maddened by her simple presence. He forces himself to return to his work in the backroom.

You torture him the rest of the day. He knows you’re playing at something, but he’s not quite sure what. You keep flashing him mockingly sympathetic glances, showing off your body more than usual, touching him. You’re making excuses to come into the backroom, you’ve never been in here so many times in one shift before, perhaps even ever. Leaning over his shoulders, touching his back, stretching up to the top shelves in front of him. He’s oblivious, but he’s not completely blind and while he’s suspected before that you might have taken to teasing him, now he’s sure. After trying fruitlessly to avoid you most of the day, he gives in toward the end, letting himself admire your body and enjoy your closeness. He’s had a few relentless flirts at his neck since graduating from Hogwarts, but you feel different. Most girls flirt with him because they think he’s something special, something big that will help them earn fame and get them in the Daily Prophet. You flirt like you think he’s a pathetic little puppy dog, and perhaps he should take offence from it, but instead, it makes him need you even more. Because it’s what he is, he’s not big and strong when it comes to this, he feels small and he needs someone who understands that, which you seem to, in your own roundabout way.

He helps you close up the shop, at your request, which is something he only usually does on particularly busy days, yet he knows the question is coming. You pout at him sweetly and ask for help and he comes running. As a thank you, you lean over as you count up the day's purchases, emphasising your chest and not commenting when he stares and blushes. He wouldn’t mind being compensated like this more often. He sweeps up the soil that’s accumulated on the floor from the various pots being moved around. Technically it’s your job, but how can he say no when you look at him like that and push your tits together just so?

You’re still double-checking the accounts when he goes into the back room again. He checks on all the special plants, making sure nothing is wrong, before moving toward the little cupboards in the corner of the room. He washes his hands and unties his apron slowly. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he sighs. You’ve been driving him crazy today. The subtle way you mocked him made him so needy for you even though he should hate you for it, he didn’t want to psychoanalyse that. He hears you enter but does his best to ignore you, you never usually talk at the end of your shifts, usually too tired and eager to get home to bother small talking. You wash your hands and remove your apron too, hanging it up by the door, your name tag facing forward. You feel his eyes on your ass again, which makes you smile to yourself.

“Is that why you stare at me so much?” you taunt, being purposefully vague. You glance over your shoulder at him. He’s bright red and chewing his lip.

“What?” he croaks.

“Because you’re a virgin? Is that why you stare so much? My ass in these trousers is the best view you’ve been allowed?” you mock, cooing as if you’re being sympathetic. He hates that you know, but he knows he hasn’t at all been subtle enough for it to be a shock. He just takes a shaky breath.

“I’m so-sorry, really… I don’t—“ he pulls nervously at his shirt. Godric it’s hot in here. You stalk closer.

“Poor thing, can’t control yourself around me, can you, hm?” you ridicule him, stalking closer with those dark seductive eyes. He realises you’re backing him into a wall as he takes a clumsy step back, moments away from hitting the hard surface. He swallows hard and you come closer, pressing your chest to his, emphasising the curve of your breasts. He can’t help but look, even if only for a split second. “Can you?” you prompt again, your voice lower.

“No,” he chokes. You laugh, low and mocking.

“No… you can’t control yourself around me… you pathetic little thing,” you finally backed him against the wall. He looks nervous, but you can feel his hardening arousal against your stomach. You shift yourself slightly, making him gasp and harden even more. You look up at him, smirking, the irony of belittling him in this way doesn't even matter, because you feel powerful and he feels small in this moment. You reach up and trace his cheek, making him shiver and his eyes flutter. “Poor little loser,” he whines loudly at that, and you watch carefully to see if you’ve actually hurt his feelings or not. When his eyes flicker open again, his pupils are wildly dilated and he looks desperate. You smile and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I am,” he whimpers. You’re surprised to hear him talk, but you let him, caressing his cheek in a mocking gesture. “I don’t want to be pathetic but I am, I can’t— do this sort of stuff,” he laments. “What kind of freak am I? Getting off to you calling me a loser?” you giggle at him and he laughs slightly too, looking down at the ground, not before glancing once more at your tits.

“You just want someone to see you for who you are and want you anyway, not put you on some pedestal,” you hum. He blinks at you. That actually… made sense. He glances up at you. “Isn’t that pathetic of you?” you tease with a smile and you both laugh a little.

“Yeah, Godric… I really am pathetic,” he chuckles quietly, watching you.

“A complete loser,” you chuckle, leaning up to kiss him. He squeaks, taken completely off guard by your lips on his. You fist your hands into the material of his shirt, forcing him to lean down to your level to kiss you. He kisses back, desperate and shaky. He pants into the kiss, already feeling a little dizzy. Your hand is reaching down and brushing feather-light against the bulge in his trousers before he can register what’s going on. His hips stutter and he whines against your lips. “So pitiful, barely even touching you and you’re whining,” you mock, brushing your fingers up and down the bulge, slow and teasing. His hands come to grip at your waist, exhaling shakily against you. “So needy,” you chuckle, pulling back and pouting at him.

“Y-yeah,” his eyes flit all over your face. You smirk up at him, trailing your hands down his body as you move to kneel in front of him. He gasps, his hands falling to his sides, chest heaving. He stares down at you, wide-eyed. He mumbles your name in question, wondering if this is really happening. You reach up, still smirking and pop to the button of his trousers. “Ah… oh Merlin…” he exhales, his eyes closing. You gently tug his trousers down and then lean forward, nuzzling your nose against the bulge in his boxers. You watch as his face twists in pleasure, a strangled gasp on his lips. He leans his head back against the wall as you press barely there kisses along his twitching length through the fabric. “This can’t be happening right now,” he pants, pushing his hips towards your face.

“Don’t you want it to?” you tease, gently licking the wet spot on the fabric, making him gasp.

“I— yes I want it but—this doesn’t happen… to me…” he groans as you slip down his boxers, springing him free. He stares down nervously now, no one has seen him like this before. You just smirk up at him, gently massaging his thighs.

“You want it?” you taunt, gently blowing on his length, making him twitch and buck.

“Nngh— yes,”

“Then beg me,” you grin. “Show me how pathetic you are for me,” he stares down at you, chest heaving, heart pounding so hard you can watch his pulse. He should feel humiliated, but the pre-cum dripping from his tip tells the both of you the reality. You lean up, placing soft open-mouthed kisses against his length, making him inhale sharply. “Beg me,” you sing-song between kisses.

“P-please,” he gasps. “Please, I’m pathetic, I need this so bad… I’ve never– ah–!” you cut him off by licking a stripe up his length. He dissolves into a string of shaky moans as you wrap your lips around his tip, softly suckling. He’s never felt this amazing before. He fights to open his eyes and look down at you, needing the visual of you doing this committed to his memory desperately, even though he knows it will likely haunt his every waking thought from today onwards. You look smug, even on your knees in front of him, and he knows you have him wrapped around your finger. He tries uselessly to dig his nails into the wall for purchase, watching as you slowly envelop more and more of him into the heavenly heat of your mouth. Your head bobs slowly, torturously slow, up and down the length of him. What you can’t fit in your mouth, you take a gentle hold of with your hand. Your tongue swirls and laves against him within your mouth, making his hips buck toward you. You immediately withdraw, making him sob.

“You just can’t control yourself, can you?” you chastise harshly. “Needy and brainless,” he nods along because he really can’t help but think you’re right.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll control myself, I will, please… I need you,” he wails. You look unimpressed, slowly teasing your hand up and down his shaft. He whines, melting against the wall. “Please…” he whispers. His voice is entirely wrecked and he already looks thoroughly debauched by you, you find the image exciting. When he glances down at you with those pleading wide eyes, you can’t deny him any longer. As a final teasing act, you lean in and gently kitten lick at his slit for a moment, tasting the salty sweetness accumulating there. You feel him trying to twitch in your hand, his head falling back again and desperate groans leaving his throat. You take him as deep down into your throat as he will go, gagging just a little, and start to bob your head again. His fingers curl, and you can tell he wants to grab your hair, but he’s being good, you keep in mind to tell him he was good later. Your lips slide up and down his length, using your tongue to swirl and add an extra layer of stimulation. He’s very vocal, whining, whimpering, groaning, completely ruined. You stare up at him as you gently swallow around him. His eyes squeeze further shut and his hips cant forward, making you gag a little, but you do it again. He gasps loudly and his hands start to flail, smacking against the wall. You only realise he was trying to warn you between strangled moans when you feel the warm spurt of his release in your mouth. You swallow it down as he frantically withdraws himself from you, crying as he rides out the feeling of his orgasm, his legs shaking. He feels like he’s left his body and ascended to heaven, this was why all his friends were so crazy about sex. He got it now. Once he’s returned to himself a little, he falls to his knees in front of you. “I’m so sorry, I tried to warn you but I felt so good, I-” he fusses. “I’m so sorry, th-thank you,” he whimpers, wiping a tiny bit of cum from the corner of your mouth. “Thank you,”

“It’s fine,” you dismiss him as he holds your face and thanks you over and over. It amuses you how wrecked he is. “It’s alright, Neville,” you chuckle in disbelief, leaning forward and pecking his lips. He can vaguely taste himself on your lips, even without you opening your mouth, and it makes him groan. He chases your lips as you pull away, opening his eyes to give you a puppy-dog look.

“Merlin … I really am pathetic,” he swallows and then laughs nervously, leaning back against the wall, smiling sheepishly as you tuck him back into his boxers. You sit on your knees in front of him and he stares at you, half in awe, half in apprehension. “Are you going to tell people about this?” he questions, slightly anxious, wiping some sweat from his brow.

“No, I can’t lose my job, we’ve just broken a bunch of rules, you realise?” you tease and he smiles slightly.

“Are we going to do this again? Or you know… something else?” he glances at your body, feeling a little bad he couldn’t do anything to make you feel like he just did.

“Maybe, maybe not, you’ll just have to wait and see,” you taunt, pecking his cheek and rising to your feet. He cranes his neck to watch as you fetch your bag and coat. You glance at him over your shoulder, seeing him sitting on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him, looking dazed and ruined. You can’t help but giggle, the sound stirring his stomach again. “See you soon, Longbottom,” you blow a mocking kiss and leave. He stares after you, both glad you’re gone so he can process what just happened, and also wishing you were never away from him again.

Tomorrow at work was either going to be heaven or hell on earth, and he found himself eager to find out.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

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777heavengirl · 6 months ago

Text

AM - Chapter 3

I Wanna Be Yours

Sirius Black x reader Chapter 3/3 Warnings: angst?, smoking, suggestive themes, fwb to lovers word count: 3,178 masterlist

Currently playing: I Wanna Be Yours by the Arctic Monkeys

Chapters i, ii, iii

Sirius Black did not think of himself as a hopeless romantic. He never cared for the lovey sickness or all the stereotypical heart designs, not the lace nor the saccharine-drenched desserts. He knew you did though. As much as you tried to hide it. He knew well of the small journal-turned-scrapbook you kept under your bed. The one with the tickets and pictures and scraps of napkins and doodles you had accumulated. Sirius Black was not a sentimental person. But he adored that you were. That you kept trinkets and other “useless” artifacts and bits just because they reminded you of a moment, of a memory, of a person. He missed watching you put your sentimental treasures in your boxes, in your journal. You pretended not to know he watched you.

He wondered if you kept things from him. From your moments, your memories together, of him.

He stared at the Polaroid Lily took of the two of you with her muggle camera. You sat on his lap, a cigarette between his lips and a fun pink drink in yours. His arm around your waist, his other hand resting on your thigh. The sparkly dress you wore that night was entrancing to look at even through the still picture. One of your arms hugged his shoulders and your smile was so wide the corners of your eyes crinkled. Your smile was so big it made your eyes almost close. His own lips rounded into a crooked smile between the cig. It was the night you first hooked up. The morning after neither of you could stop giggling. He kept the anxiety of not knowing how to move forward close to his heart.

He remembered your laugh as Lily took two pictures, one for you, one for him. It’s not like he’ll keep it, pads isn’t sentimental like that.

The truth was, you were wrong. He kept it in his desk drawer since that night. He’d look at it often when you weren’t in his arms.

This was the smile he liked the most from you, he thought. The one right before you bust into laughter. He loved seeing it, it was like a firework, like a star shining in the night sky. He hadn’t seen that smile the entire time you had been in your relationship. He hoped it was just because of the distance between you that he hadn't seen it. But after the Ravenclaw party and the way Jacob had manhandled you. He wasn’t so sure anymore.

Remus, Peter, and Sirius waited outside of McGonagall’s office door. It was normal for James to be in trouble. It was usually all of them together but, not in trouble for something like this. Sirius had gotten down just in time to see James’s fist colliding with the Slytherin’s face. The screaming between Marlene and your boyfriend had brought him down and James’s outburst had brought unwanted attention. As Slughorn took James away, Sirius dragged Peter and Remus down. They followed the professor and their friends all the way down to McGonagall’s office. Jacob had been sent to the hospital wing.

Slughorn burst out of the office, no James in sight. The older man seemed upset but didn’t comment on the boys’ presence. The door rested slightly ajar.

“Professor you have to understand, I couldn’t stand for it!” James loudly “whispered” to his head of house. James couldn’t whisper for the life of him.

“Mr. Potter, while I understand that Mr Brown's comment made you very upset and I do not tolerate such foul name calling especially about a dear student like Miss Y/L/N-“

”It was more than name-calling Minnie!”

”Please refrain from calling me that-“ The boys outside could hear the amusement in McGonagall’s voice. It quickly faded. “violence is still not accepted, even if he called her a-“

”a whore! He called our Y/N a whore Minnie!” Sirius felt his blood drain from his body. He was going to kill him.

Remus put his hand on Sirius’s shoulder as if sensing the storm brewing inside of him.

McGonagall sighed and told James that he had a week of detention. Rather light for the offense.

“She doesn’t know does she?” Remus asked James as he exited the office. James’s eyes went wide as he realized they had all heard, it wasn’t like he wasn’t going to tell them. He would on his own time, be a bit apprehensive of Sirius’s reaction. James shook his head no. You had no clue, at least from him.

”I knew he was a good-for-nothing bastard,” Sirius stared at the floor, his hands deep in his pockets. “I’m going to murder him”

If the boys didn't know better, they'd believe him.

You sat at your boyfriend's bedside. By the time you got yourself together and went down to the hospital wing he was sleeping off his bruised cheek and the apparent slight concussion from hitting the floor. You wondered if James was okay, wanting nothing more than to go after your friend. But you felt responsible for his state, even if he had called you something mean, you felt guilty. You felt like you had driven him to blind jealousy and childish name-calling.

"Y/N?" Jacob stirred awake, surprised about your presence. "thought you'd be with Black." His expression soured and his fingers gripped your hand that was placed on the bed.

"I had half a mind to go wait with him for James" Your words were mumbled but you knew he understood you as he tightened his grip on your fingers. Marlene nor Lily had told you what he had said. Alice didn't have any shame in telling you however, he called you a whore Y/N, if I had been in the position to I would've beaten him bloody. You found yourself not caring what the boy had called you.

"I swear I didn't mean what I said honey," you frowned at the nickname "I was just so mad, I was upset, and your friend Maria-"

"Marlene?"

"Yeah that one, well she kept screaming at me and I just blew a fuse" You couldn't help but stare at him blankly. Jacob Brown was a handsome man but the temper he hid under a shy and stuttering demeanor had crossed a line, and fast. He lost whatever charm he may have possessed. He would never and has never made you feel the way Sirius Black does.

You were never really into blondes anyway.

"I think we're done Jacob," you pulled your hand away. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, not expecting you to have the balls to rip the bandaid off. "And if I had been James, I would've broken your nose, so be thankful"

You got up without another word, he didn't dare speak either. You slowly started walking faster, out of the hospital wing, up stairs, and down hallways picking up more and more speed, until you were running. You sprinted as fast as you could, as fast as your shoes would let you. You could see the glimpses of the remaining sunlight peer through each window you passed. They flashed like a camera lens. You needed the rush of adrenaline, to remind you that you were alive, that your heart was beating. You stopped in front of the fat lady, her nose scrunched up at your disheveled appearance.

"Rictusempra" She opened without further complaint.

Your chest heaved up and down as you slowed down, entering the warm, cozy common room.

"How lovely of you to join us," James laughed from the couch, a small ice pack wrapped around his hand. "How's my favorite whore?" You laughed and scrunched up your nose and Lily gasped in surprise.

"I'm doing great— newly single" your friends oo'd, "how's my amateur boxing champion?" You couldn't help but poke fun, James had a way of lighting up the atmosphere. You were grateful for it.

Lily ran her hands through his hair as she answered in his place, "he's doing better, he only has detention for a week,"

"Lils you're fussing over him too much he does not need that thing-" you laughed as you pointed at the ice pack, the redhead turned as bright as her hair as she laughed too. She knew but it never hurt to indulge James's dramatics. Most of the time.

"Minnie is a saint is all I'm saying," his words came out as more of a purr as Lily continued to pet his hair.

You struggled to ask the obvious, James looked at you like he was daring you to ask, Where's Sirius?

"He's in the astronomy tower-" Remus spoke up from his chair before anyone else could say anything,

Peter chuckled as your cheeks reddened, "Might have to hold him back," the rest of the marauders started giggling like they were twelve "he wanted to commit bloody murder earlier"

You messed with Peter's hair, mouthing a thank you to Remus as you left.

"I thought we said we'd quit," Your words came out in a short breath, the stairs all the way up the tower were no joke.

"Well hello there stranger," The words came muffled as Sirius balanced whatever was left of a cigarette between his lips. You walked to sit with him on the ledge, much like you had in February. Your thighs pressed against one another and you took a brand new box of organic cigarettes out of your pocket. "Glad to see neither one of us held up to the promise of quitting" Sirius chuckled as he took the box from your hands.

He put out the cig on the edge of the wall and took one of yours out. He placed it between your lips, his fingertips softly grazing your lips. You suddenly didn't feel the need to smoke. But you didn't say this as he took out his lighter and lit it for you. He took the cig after you inhaled. You couldn't help but stare at him, your arms crossed on the metal bar in front of you, your head on your forearms. The rings of smoke mixed and danced in front of you again.

"I have another confession to make"

"Besides the fact that you chain smoke like you're a fifty-year-old man?"

"Yes," you said and he turned to look at you, an amused flicker in his eyes. You could see the kindness in them, the care. Sirius always cared. No matter what he said or did, you knew this. All of you knew.

"Spit it out then love," his words were whispered, and he took the cigarette again. Your box was still in his right hand.

"You make me feel like I just downed a bottle of firewhiskey" He barked out a laugh at your childish confession, tilting his head back. He nodded as he passed back the cig. "and if I'm really honest, Jacob never made me feel like that, I fear," you inhaled deeply, allowing the smoke to fill you, Sirius's expression twisted at the mention of the boy.

"I hope not," You couldn't help but wonder if Sirius's need for your attention was simply to scratch an itch. Simply the satisfaction of knowing that he had you wrapped around his finger. The satisfaction of having you in his bed.

"What is it to you Black?"

"Don't call me that," he knocked his shoulder with yours, releasing a giggle from your lips. "If you must know— I could treat you better,"

He looked away now, shy at his admission, even when it had been said haphazardly. Like it wasYou shook your head, unable to process nor accept his statement. Sirius Black did not care. You knew this. He didn't care about your sentimentalism or your feelings. Sirius did not know what you liked to eat or watch or listen to. He did not care. He had never cared to ask or show interest. He didn't care that you knew he only drank pumpkin juice during dinner, or that he liked it when you braided his hair, or that his favorite muggle movie was the new animated Robing Hood and not the Godfather as he always said. You knew Sirius Black did not care that you knew all of his favorite things and he didn't know a single one of yours. And it broke your heart. That he refused to know you or to let you fully in.

"That's not fair," you retracted your legs, curling them up to your chest. Shy of the contact, self-conscious of your closeness and the way you let him in so easily. You didn't accept the cig back from him.

"How?" he put out the cig and pulled at your hand. "He could never make you happy, he will never know you like I do baby" his words were merely a whisper between the two of you.

"What could you possibly know about me, Black?" he hated when you called him that "You don't truly know a thing about me-"

"I know everything about you," he was barely a breath away, your warmth mixed with his and if you moved a mere centimeter your faces would touch. "I know your favorite color is pink, but you always say its red, it's not any pink either its the baby pink of the dress you wore to the Christmas dinner at the Potter's last year" You held your breath. “the one that shimmered under the lights-”

"Do you want an award for knowing my favorite color?" Sirius ignored you as he continued.

"I know you like orchids but not as a bouquet, you like lilies best," his fingers tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but his hand remained there, at the edge of your jaw and you couldn't help but stare into his big grey eyes. You could almost see the constellations in them.

"You like the pixie dust flavored bean but hate the chocolate one, I know you wanted to be an auror when you were little but now you lean more towards a teaching position here," You felt a knot form in your throat as he continued to tell you the things about yourself you thought he had no clue of. "I know you like the smell of my leather jacket and that you keep a scrapbook under your bed, you love frills and lace and they are everywhere on that journal, I know you hate cigarettes because you feel guilty but you can't help yourself when you're anxious" you were somehow closer now, his tender hand on your jaw bringing your faces together to the point you could scarcely feel his lips as he spoke.

"I know you are a sentimental person, who keeps everything and everyone deep in your heart and that you wear your heart on your sleeve, all you do is give to others, your love, and your attention and it drives me insane," your lips were touching now, and you couldn't help but flutter your eyes shut as he finally said "I just want to be yours, love"

He pressed his lips to yours fully, his other hand threaded through your hair as he held your face close to his. You had kissed Sirius a handful of times, between the bites and the pulling of clothes. You had kissed Sirius with fear that he didn't truly want you, he had kissed you like it was something forbidden. But this time was different, he kissed you like a man starved like you'd leave him again for some other prat, he kissed you like he had been waiting a million years for it. He sucked softly at your bottom lip as you allowed him to deepen the kiss. Your hands pressed against his chest, and he broke the kiss. Pressing his forehead against yours.

"Be mine," it wasn't a mere question, it felt like a plead coming from his lips. Like a man on his knees.

"I've always been yours, Sirius Black," he laughed as you did too, at how ridiculous the two of you sounded. The two of you were meant to be. It couldn't go any other way. And everyone had known it but you.

You were such a sure thing.

You grabbed the brand-new pack of cigarettes from Sirius's hand and launched it over the metal bar as hard as you could. It felt cathartic, to let go of it. You barely looked at it as it plummeted down into the darkness. You could only look at him.

"I reckon we oughta quit now" he flashed you one of his toothy smiles, his eyes almost squeezing shut. You couldn't help but pull him in for another kiss.

You didn't smoke a single cig after that day. You'd joke Sirius was intoxicating and harmful on his own. He always feigned hurt. Your fingers never itched for it again. You had Sirius's hand to hold on to, his lips to press against yours. You had him in your pocket instead.

Sirius Black cares, and he always has. He cares that you only have eyes for him, that you spend your every waking moment attached at the hip. Even when you're fast asleep your arms cling to him, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't cling to you as well. Sirius cares that the stupidity that comes out of his mouth makes you laugh to the point of tears in a way he knows no one else can. That warm laugh that is born in your chest and makes him feel like he is the king of the world. Sirius Black cares that your eyes widen and glaze in affection when he gifts you an item of your favorite color, it has more to do than the thought of you tangled in his bedsheets now. Sirius Black's heart clenches every time he thinks of when you helped haul things out of his window when he ran away, dodging the jinxes that his hysterical mother threw your way once she saw you. Sirius has never been the most sentimental man, but tears formed in his eyes when you presented him with matching keys, with a simple live with me. He cares that you still wink at him before you take off the ground, whether to play quidditch in the Potter's backyard or right before you take off sprinting down the street trying to race him to your shared apartment. His pockets are filled with napkins, papers, tickets, and pictures for you to paste onto your journals, he always carries a camera to capture moments for you. So every moment, every memory, and every person is yours to keep.

He knows he never has to worry about anyone else, and he knows you feel just as cloyed and covered in the saccharine disgusting feelings as he does.

Sirius Black knows he loves you. And he knows you love him.

Tags ! (lmk if they don’t work or if u wanna be added) :

@beekeepingageissome, @prongsprincessworld, @w0nd3rlnd, @reevelio, @nrs-15, @sailtomarina

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elikajinnie · 1 month ago

Note

Hi!! Idk if you do actual Hogwarts crossover but Heeseung and Draco Malfoy in the same story would be a dream 🙌💞💞

Just a thought though… haha. I love your work!

I Am Not In Distress - L.H & D.M

a/n: .... i could kiss you.. i LOVE THIS! Thank you for ur support! Hope you enjoy<3

P: Slytherins!Heeseung & Draco Malfoy X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Rivalry, Tension, Teasing, Suggestive Content, Ambigious Ending, they both desperate for you.

Synopsis: Purebloods are bad news—that’s what you always told yourself. Yet here you are, caught between two of them, both determined to have you. And this? It’s far from a friendly rivalry.

now playing: heartless by the weeknd | alejandro by lady gaga | bored by ari abdul

hogwarts au masterlist

You disliked purebloods to an extent—not enough to hate them outright, but just enough to stay clear of most of them. It wasn’t hard to form that opinion, not when so many of them walked around with a superiority complex, like the simple fact of their lineage made them better than everyone else. Half-bloods? Muggleborns? Practically dirt under their expensive shoes.

Most of them were in Slytherin, of course, which only cemented the stereotype further. And while you knew not every Slytherin was like that, it was easier to assume the worst and keep your distance. You didn’t have the patience for their arrogance, their entitled sneers, or the way they always traveled in packs, like a group of sharks smelling blood.

Out of all of them, though, two stood out as the absolute worst in your book. Draco Malfoy and Lee Heeseung.

Both were practically Slytherin royalty, both pureblooded to their cores, and both annoyingly aware of it. Wherever they went, people trailed behind them like lost puppies—giggling, flattering, desperate for their approval. It was sickening. You never gave either of them a second glance, which wasn’t difficult considering they were always too busy basking in their own popularity. And honestly? You thought you’d never have a reason to interact with either of them. Hogwarts was a big school, after all. You could go years without crossing paths in any meaningful way.

Or so you thought.

One stupid dungbomb. That’s all it took. Filch had caught you red-handed, and before you could even think of an excuse, you were marched off to detention, grumbling all the way. Cleaning duty. Fine. You could deal with that.

But what you hadn’t expected—what you couldn’t believe—was that you’d be stuck in the same room with both Draco Malfoy and Lee Heeseung. Just the three of you.

Fantastic.

This was shaping up to be the longest detention of your life.

When they spotted you, their conversation halted mid-sentence. Both Heeseung and Draco turned their heads, their sharp gazes locking onto you like a pair of predators catching sight of their prey. You could feel their eyes tracing over every inch of you, sizing you up, as if your mere presence had somehow interrupted their perfect little world.

It was unnerving.... to say the least. Their stares weren’t casual—they were calculated, assessing, almost intrigued. You shifted uncomfortably, tugging at the hem of your robe as if that would somehow shield you from their scrutiny. Without sparing them another glance, you made your way to the table and began organizing the potion ingredients the way Professor Snape had instructed. If you focused on the task, maybe they’d leave you alone. Maybe you could get through this detention without having to speak to either of them.

But, of course, life wasn’t that kind.

“Well, well,” Heeseung drawled, his voice smooth and just a little too smug for your liking. “Who would’ve thought you’d end up in detention?”

You didn’t look up, keeping your eyes trained on the jars of dried herbs in front of you. “Yeah, real shocking,” you muttered under your breath, hoping he’d take the hint and drop it.

He didn’t.

Draco chimed in next, his tone dripping with his usual snide arrogance. “Didn’t take you for the type. I thought you were supposed to be all proper.” He let out a quiet laugh, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Or did I get that wrong? Maybe you're more suited to being a troublemaker.”

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to stay focused on the task at hand. You weren’t about to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. “Maybe you should mind your own business,” you said evenly, not even sparing them a glance.

That only seemed to encourage them.

“Oh, don’t get all shy on us now,” Heeseung said, his voice laced with mock amusement. He stepped closer, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty room. “You’re already in detention with us. Might as well make the most of it.”

Draco chuckled at that, his laughter light but tinged with malice. “Exactly. It’s not every day we get to be with someone so... charming.”

The sarcasm in his voice was impossible to miss, and your patience was starting to wear thin. You slammed a jar of powdered asphodel down onto the table a little harder than necessary and finally turned to face them.

“Look, I don’t know what your problem is,” you snapped, your eyes narrowing as you glared at them, “but I’m just here to serve my detention and leave. So why don’t you both do the same and stop bothering me?”

For a moment, they both just stared at you, as if surprised you’d actually spoken up. Then, to your irritation, Heeseung’s lips curved into a slow, amused smile.

“Feisty,” he remarked, his tone almost teasing. “I enjoy that.”

Draco smirked as well, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the table. “Careful, Heeseung,” he said, his voice dripping with mock warning. “You might scare her off.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the ingredients with a muttered, “Idiots.”

The three of you carried on with your assigned tasks in silence—at first. If you pretended hard enough, it was almost like you were alone in the room.

But, of course, they couldn’t leave you in peace for too long.

“Is it just me, or does she seem a little too focused on her work?” Heeseung mused aloud, his tone light and deliberately provoking.

Draco snickered. “Overcompensating, maybe? Trying to make up for their little... incident.”

You ignored them, carefully placing a jar of beetle eyes onto the shelf. They were just trying to get a rise out of you. If you didn’t react, they’d get bored and move on.

“Oi,” Heeseung called out after a moment, his voice laced with mock curiosity. “You’re not ignoring us, are you? That’d be rude, don’t you think, Draco?”

“Oh, very rude,” Draco agreed, feigning an exaggerated gasp. “But then again, I suppose we shouldn’t expect much better. Detention and manners don’t exactly go hand in hand, do they?”

You tightened your grip on the jar in your hand but still refused to look at them. Breathe in. Breathe out. They were just words. Nothing worth wasting your energy on.

“Think she’s mad at us?” Heeseung asked, leaning lazily against a nearby desk, his voice full of mock innocence. “I mean, it’s not like we’re the reason she’s here in detention. Are we?”

Draco chuckled, leaning forward slightly as if to get a better look at you. “Oh, I don’t think she’s mad, Heeseung. I think she’s just too embarrassed to talk to us. Can’t blame her, really.”

This time, you rolled your eyes but kept your mouth shut, stacking a few jars onto the shelf with more force than necessary. You could hear them snickering behind you, clearly pleased with themselves.

“Nothing to say?” Heeseung pressed, stepping closer, his voice taking on a teasing sing-song quality. “Come on, it’s not like we’re that scary. Are we, Draco?”

“Terrifying,” Draco said with a smirk. “Absolutely petrifying.”

You finally turned your head just enough to glare at them over your shoulder. “Do either of you ever shut up?” you snapped before you could stop yourself.

Heeseung’s grin widened. “There it is,” he said, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Knew you couldn’t hold out forever.”

You gritted your teeth, cursing yourself internally for giving them even the smallest reaction. Without another word, you turned back to your work.

“You know,” Draco said, clearly still enjoying himself, “it’s actually impressive how much restraint you’ve got. Most people would’ve cracked by now.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung agreed, his tone dripping with amusement. “But I think we can do better, don’t you?”

Fantastic. They’d taken your response as a challenge.

The rest of detention dragged on painfully, with both Draco and Heeseung continuing their relentless teasing. It was as if they’d made a silent pact to see who could irritate you the most.

Draco started by pretending to inspect your work. He sauntered over, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the ingredients you’d just organized. “Hmm,” he muttered, tapping his chin dramatically. “You’ve mislabeled this one, you know. Wouldn’t want Snape to find out, would you? He’s not exactly forgiving when it comes to incompetence.”

You didn’t even glance at him, your voice flat as you replied, “I didn’t mislabel anything, Malfoy.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, picking up a jar and holding it just out of your reach. “So confident, aren’t you? Let’s see… powdered bicorn horn, is it? Or was it powdered something-else-entirely?”

“That is powdered bicorn horn, genius,” you shot back, snatching the jar from his hand and placing it firmly on the shelf. “Try harder.”

Draco blinked, as though surprised you didn’t falter, but the smirk quickly returned to his face. “Not bad,” he said, a lazy drawl in his voice. “But I wasn’t wrong about Snape, you know. One slip-up, and you’ll be scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of the year.”

“Good thing I don’t make mistakes, then,” you retorted, already turning your back on him.

Draco huffed softly but didn’t push further—for now. Heeseung, however, decided it was his turn.

“You’re pretty quick with comebacks,” Heeseung remarked, his voice smooth as silk. He leaned against the table next to you, watching you carefully. “Must’ve had a lot of practice, huh? Who do you argue with so much? Your friends? Or maybe your professors? Bet they love you.”

You exhaled sharply, doing your best to ignore him. Heeseung’s teasing was less obvious than Draco’s, but it was no less infuriating. He had a way of making everything he said sound like a compliment, even when it clearly wasn’t.

“You know, it’s kind of impressive,” he continued, smirking when you didn’t answer. “I mean, most people would’ve lost their temper by now. You’re… stubborn.” He tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Or is it pride? Which one is it?”

“Neither,” you muttered, slamming another jar onto the shelf. “It’s called wanting to finish this detention without having to listen to you two.”

“Ah, so you are listening,” Heeseung teased, his grin widening.

You clenched your jaw, refusing to take the bait. If you kept engaging with them, this detention would feel even longer than it already did. You just had to make it through this. Just a little longer.

But they weren’t done yet.

“Do you think she’s always this serious?” Draco asked Heeseung, loud enough for you to hear. “I mean, look at her. Practically fuming. It’s like she’s never heard of having a bit of fun.”

“Probably doesn’t know how to have fun,” Heeseung agreed, shaking his head mockingly. “Sad, really.”

“Very sad,” Draco echoed with a smirk.

It wasn’t until the end of detention that they finally let up, though not without a parting shot.

As you were putting away the last of the ingredients, Heeseung leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. “You know, this wasn’t so bad. We should do it again sometime.”

Draco snorted, smirking as he added, “Yeah. Let us know next time you get caught. We’d hate to miss out.”

You shot them both a glare before turning on your heel and leaving the room without another word. Their laughter followed you out, echoing down the corridor.

As frustrating as it had been, you were proud of yourself for not giving them the reaction they’d wanted—at least, not entirely. But as you walked back to your dorm, you couldn’t help but feel a sinking suspicion that this wasn’t the last time they’d try to get under your skin....

Turns out, your guess was absolutely, fucking correct.

The very next day in History of Magic, you settled into your usual seat near the back of the classroom, fully prepared to endure another hour of Professor Binns’ dull droning. Your plan was simple: take notes, avoid eye contact with anyone, and maybe even catch up on some homework if Binns got too repetitive. Easy.

Or so you thought.

The first sign that your day was about to spiral downward was the sound of a chair scraping obnoxiously close beside you. You looked up, confused, only to see Draco lowering himself gracefully into the seat next to yours, acting as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His smirk was already in place, and you could feel your blood pressure rising.

Before you could even process his sudden and unwelcome appearance, Heeseung dropped into the seat on your other side with the kind of casual arrogance that only someone like him could pull off. He leaned back lazily, his long legs stretching out under the desk as if he owned the entire classroom.

“Morning,” Heeseung said smoothly, as if the two of you were old friends.

Draco didn’t bother with pleasantries, instead glancing at you with a raised eyebrow and a mocking smile.

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting for a moment as you stared at the two boys flanking you. They were both watching you expectantly, like they were waiting for some kind of reaction.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” you hissed, your voice low enough to avoid attracting Binns’ attention.

Draco shrugged, his expression annoyingly smug. “What does it look like? Sitting. Breathing. Existing.”

“Unfortunately for you,” Heeseung added, his lips twitching with amusement.

“Plenty of empty seats,” you snapped, gesturing to the rest of the classroom. “Go exist somewhere else.”

Draco leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on the desk as he tilted his head toward you. “Why would we do that when we’ve got you right here?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but before you could respond, Heeseung cut in. “Don’t be so cold. We’re just here to keep you company. You looked a little lonely.”

“Lonely?” you repeated, incredulous. “I was perfectly fine until you two showed up.”

“Exactly,” Draco said, smirking. “Too fine. Can’t have that, can we?”

You groaned quietly, dragging a hand down your face. Of all the people in the school, why did they have to decide you were worth bothering?

Class started, and you tried your best to ignore them, determined to focus on Professor Binns’ lecture. But, of course, neither Draco nor Heeseung had any intention of letting that happen.

Every few minutes, one of them would whisper some snide remark or another, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Do you even understand what Binns is saying?” Draco muttered at one point, leaning closer to you. “Sounds like he’s speaking Mermish, doesn’t it?”

You ignored him, scribbling furiously in your notebook.

“She’s actually taking notes,” Heeseung whispered to Draco, his voice dripping with fake awe. “How noble.”

“Very noble,” Draco agreed. “But, then again, she does have a reputation to uphold. Isn’t that right?”

You gripped your quill tighter, willing yourself to stay calm.

When you didn’t respond, Heeseung leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Are you really going to keep ignoring us all class? That’s no fun.”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to give them the satisfaction of looking at them.

Draco, clearly delighted by your silence, smirked and added, “Maybe she’s just shy, Heeseung. You know how it is. Some people get nervous around greatness.”

At that, your quill snapped in half.

The sound was loud enough to draw a few curious glances from nearby students, but thankfully, Binns remained as oblivious as ever. You let out a slow, frustrated breath, carefully setting the broken quill down before turning to glare at the two of them.

“What do you want?” you hissed, your voice low but venomous.

They exchanged a glance, their smirks widening.

“To keep you entertained,” Heeseung said innocently.

“Consider it a public service,” Draco added with a mock bow of his head.

You rolled your eyes, turning back to your notes. “You’re both insufferable.”

“Thanks,” Heeseung said with a grin, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world.

For the rest of class, they didn’t let up, continuing until you were practically counting down the seconds until the end. By the time class was over, your nerves were completely frayed. Bolting upright, you were determined to escape the classroom and leave Draco and Heeseung behind. But before you could even take two steps, you felt a hand at your waist.

You froze, glancing down to see Heeseung’s arm wrapping itself around you in a way that was far too casual for your liking. His hand rested lightly at your side, as if this was something he did every day.

“What are you doing?” you asked sharply, trying to twist away, but his grip only tightened—gentle, but firm enough to stop you from slipping free.

“Relax,” he said smoothly, his tone far too self-assured. “Just thought I’d help you out. Wouldn’t want you to get lost on your way to class, after all.”

You glared at him, but before you could retort, Draco sauntered up beside you. “Heeseung’s right,” he drawled. “We are all headed to the same place, after all. It would be terribly rude of us not to walk you there.”

“Oh, how thoughtful of you,” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You tried to step away again, but Heeseung matched your pace effortlessly, keeping his arm firmly around your waist as he steered you toward the door.

“See? She appreciates it,” Heeseung said, ignoring your tone entirely.

Draco chuckled, falling into step on your other side. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t say thank you,” you shot back, glaring at them both.

“Not out loud,” Draco said, his smirk widening. “But I can tell you’re grateful. You just don’t want to admit it.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, deciding that arguing with them would only make things worse. Instead, you focused on walking as quickly as possible, hoping to reach your next class and put some distance between yourself and the two infuriating Slytherins.

Unfortunately, they seemed to have other plans.

As the three of you made your way down the corridor, Heeseung kept his arm firmly in place, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Draco, meanwhile, kept up a steady stream of commentary, most of it designed to annoy you.

“Do you always walk this fast?” Draco asked at one point, easily keeping up with your hurried pace. “Or are you just trying to get away from us?”

“Obviously the second one,” you muttered, not bothering to look at him.

Heeseung chuckled, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as he guided you around a corner. “Aw, don’t be like that. We’re just trying to be friendly.”

“This is what you call ‘friendly’?” you shot back.

“Of course,” Draco said, his smirk never faltering. “You should consider yourself lucky, really. We don’t do this for just anyone.”

“Oh, I feel so special,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes.

“You should,” Heeseung replied, his tone teasing. “Not everyone gets to be escorted to class by the two most charming people in Hogwarts.”

You snorted. “Charming? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Don’t act like you’re not impressed,” Draco said, clearly enjoying himself.

By the time you finally reached the door to your next class, your patience was hanging by a thread. As you tried to step away, Heeseung finally released his hold on your waist, but not before leaning down slightly and murmuring, “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You shot him a glare, but before you could respond, Draco spoke up. “Looks like we’re all here,” he said, glancing into the classroom.

You groaned inwardly, resisting the urge to bang your head against the nearest wall. This was going to be a long day.

You slipped away from them quickly, weaving through the rows of desks until you found a seat at the very front of the class. If there was one place they wouldn’t dare to bother you, it was here—right under the professor’s nose. At least, that’s what you hoped.

You were determined to focus, to shake off whatever bizarre fixation Draco and Heeseung had developed on you since detention.

But, of course, you should have figured it out by now. Once you had their attention—for whatever inexplicable reason—they weren’t going to let up.

You’d barely settled into your seat when you heard the faint scrape of chairs moving directly behind you. Your stomach dropped as you turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of the two boys taking the seats directly behind yours, looking far too pleased with themselves.

Heeseung leaned forward, resting his arms casually on the edge of your desk. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low so only you could hear, “running away isn’t very polite. We walked you here, after all.”

“Not to mention,” Draco added from your other side, “we were hoping for a nice little chat. But here you are, acting like we’re some kind of nuisance.”

“Because you are,” you hissed under your breath, glaring at them both.

Draco feigned a wounded expression, clutching his chest dramatically. “How cruel. And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

“Keep dreaming, Malfoy,” you muttered, turning back to face the front of the class.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Heeseung said, his tone light and teasing. He poked you lightly with the end of his quill. “We’re just trying to make your day more exciting.”

“By annoying me?” you shot back, swatting his quill away.

“Exactly,” he replied with a grin.

Before you could retort, the professor entered the room, and the class fell into a semblance of quiet. You let out a relieved breath, grateful for the temporary reprieve. Surely, they wouldn’t risk drawing attention to themselves now—not with a professor watching.

But you should’ve known better.

Throughout the lecture, you felt the occasional nudge against the back of your chair—Heeseung, no doubt, trying to get your attention. You ignored him. Then there was the faint sound of parchment being crumpled, followed by a soft thud as a tiny ball of paper landed on your desk.

You unfolded it reluctantly, your irritation mounting.

Inside, in Draco’s neat handwriting, was a single line: “Having fun yet?”

You crumpled the paper back up and tossed it over your shoulder without a word, not caring where it landed. You heard Draco chuckle softly behind you, clearly amused by your reaction.

A few minutes later, another paper ball landed on your desk. This time, it was from Heeseung, the writing messier but just as irritating: “You know you can’t keep this up forever, right?”

You sighed, your patience wearing thin. Without looking back, you scribbled a reply on the paper and tossed it over your shoulder.

It wasn’t long before you heard Draco snicker. “Looks like she finally have something to say.”

Heeseung unfolded the paper and read your message, keeping his voice low. “Leave me alone before I hex you both into next week.”

“Hex us?” Draco repeated, his tone dripping with mock disbelief. “How positively violent.”

“Indeed,” Heeseung added with a grin.

By the time class ended, you were practically bolting for the door, hoping to escape before they could follow. But, of course, they were right on your heels, flanking you once again as you stepped into the hallway.

“See?” Draco said, falling into step beside you. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I barely noticed you were there,” you lied, shooting him a sideways glare.

“Ouch,” Heeseung said, clutching his chest dramatically. “You really know how to hurt a guy, don’t you?”

You quickened your pace, hoping they’d get bored and leave you alone. But as they continued to trail after you, still grinning like they’d won some kind of game.

You were practically weaving through the crowd of students filling the hallways. Surely, they had better things to do than to keep following you like persistent shadows?

Right?

But, of course, they didn’t.

“So,” Heeseung said casually, keeping stride beside you as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “What’s next on your schedule? Care to share?”

“I bet it’s something riveting,” Draco added on your other side, his smirk firmly in place. “Like Herbology or... Divination.”

You gritted your teeth, refusing to answer.

“Silent treatment again?” Heeseung asked, leaning slightly closer. “You know, that’s starting to hurt my feelings.”

“I didn’t realize you had feelings,” you shot back before you could stop yourself, your frustration finally bubbling to the surface.

Draco let out a bark of laughter, clearly delighted. “There it is! Knew you couldn’t stay quiet forever.”

“Careful, Malfoy,” you said sharply, stopping in your tracks to glare at both of them. “If you keep pushing me, you’ll find out exactly how much quieter your life will be with a Silencing Charm.”

“Oh, scary,” Heeseung teased, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes that made you want to hex him right then and there.

Draco, ever the instigator, stepped closer with that same irritating smirk. “Go on, then. Let’s see it. I could use a good laugh before our next class.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him.

Heeseung, clearly enjoying himself, stepped in as if to defuse the tension—though his tone was anything but sincere. “Now, now, let’s not resort to violence. We wouldn’t want anyone to get detention again, would we?”

You rolled your eyes, shoving past them both and continuing down the hallway. “I don’t have time for this,” you muttered under your breath, hoping they’d finally take the hint.

But, they didn’t.

Instead, they followed you all the way to your next class.

“Should we place bets on where she’s sitting this time?” Draco mused aloud as you entered the classroom.

“I’m guessing front and center,” Heeseung replied, trailing after you. “Seems like their style.”

You ignored them completely, choosing a seat near the middle of the room this time.

And the moment you sat down, they flanked you on either side, their presence looming before you could even pull out your notes. Heeseung plopped into the seat on your right, draping one arm casually over the back of your chair, while Draco claimed the seat on your left with his usual air of entitlement.

“Miss us?” Heeseung asked, flashing you an infuriating grin.

“Not even a little,” you replied, your tone flat.

“Liar,” Draco said smoothly, leaning just enough to invade your personal space. “Admit it. You’d be bored out of your mind without us.”

“I was doing just fine before you two started this little... whatever this is,” you shot back, glaring between them.

“‘This little whatever this is’?” Heeseung repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Ouch. You’re really struggling with words today, huh? Must be the company.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as the professor walked into the room, signaling the start of class. “Will you two just—”

“Shh,” Draco interrupted, holding a finger to his lips. “Class is starting. Let’s be respectful, shall we?”

You shot him a glare, but he only grinned in response, clearly pleased with himself.

For the next hour, they both continued their antics—soft whispers, poking at your notes, and the occasional “accidental” nudge to your arm. Every time you tried to focus, one of them would find some new way to distract you, and by the end of the lesson, your patience was hanging by a thread.

As soon as the professor dismissed the class, you bolted from your seat, determined to escape before they could follow you again.

But, they were right behind you in an instant.

“So,” Heeseung said as the three of you stepped into the hallway, “what’s next? Lunch? Study session?”

“Or,” Draco added, his smirk widening, “are you finally going to admit that you enjoy our company and stop running away?”

You stopped in your tracks, spinning around to face them both with an exasperated glare. “Why are you two so obsessed with bothering me?”

They exchanged a glance, their smirks never faltering.

“Because it’s fun,” Heeseung said simply, shrugging.

“And because you’re so bad at ignoring us,” Draco added, his tone practically gleeful.

You groaned, turning back around and storming off down the hallway. “You two are unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath.

You were on the verge of snapping, your fists clenched at your sides as Draco and Heeseung trailed after you like determined shadows.

And just when you thought you’d never get a moment of peace, salvation arrived.

“Draco! Heeseung!”

A loud, familiar voice rang out from the end of the corridor. You glanced up to see a group of Slytherins heading toward you. Blaise Zabini was leading the pack, with Pansy Parkinson and a few others following close behind, their expressions curious as they spotted the two boys at your side.

“Oh, great,” you muttered under your breath, praying that this didn’t somehow make things worse.

“Looks like our friends are here,” Heeseung said, his grin widening as Blaise reached them.

“Friends?” Draco drawled, shooting you a quick, smug glance before turning to greet the others. “They’re more like pests.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Blaise retorted with a smirk, crossing his arms as his gaze flickered to you. “And who’s this? Your new... project?”

You bristled at the comment, opening your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, Pansy cut in.

“Draco, Heeseung,” she said, her voice dripping with honey, “we’ve been looking for you everywhere. What are you two doing hanging around here?” Her eyes flickered to you briefly, but she didn’t seem all that interested.

Draco waved her off lazily. “Just having some fun.”

“With her?” Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You decided that was your cue to leave. With their attention now firmly on Draco and Heeseung, you took a slow step backward, careful not to draw attention to yourself.

To your immense relief, neither of them seemed to notice as you slipped away, blending into the crowd of students moving through the hallway.

Once you were out of sight, you quickened your pace, weaving through the corridors until you reached the library.

Finding an empty table near the back, you set your things down and let out a relieved sigh. Finally, some peace.

You pulled out your notes, determined to get some studying done before your next class. For the first time all day, you felt like you could actually breathe without the weight of two smirking Slytherins bearing down on you.

But as you started reviewing your notes, a nagging thought crept into your mind: why had they suddenly decided to fixate on you? And more importantly, how long would it last?

Whatever their reasons, you weren’t going to let them distract you any more than they already had.

Finally, without Draco and Heeseung’s incessant teasing, you could concentrate. The words on the page seemed to make sense again as you worked through your assignments, your quill scratching quietly against the parchment.

You were so immersed in your work that you didn’t notice someone approaching until they were right next to your table.

“Found you,” a familiar voice said, smooth and far too smug.

Your head snapped up, and your heart sank as you saw Draco standing there, his arms crossed.

Behind him, Heeseung strolled in, looking far too pleased with himself as he dropped into the chair across from you. “Nice hiding spot,” he said, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. “Took us a minute to figure out where you’d run off to.”

You stared at them, utterly dumbfounded. “Are you serious? Do you two not have anything better to do?”

“Not really,” Heeseung replied with a shrug, as if the answer was obvious.

“We were bored,” Draco added, sliding into the seat beside you without waiting for an invitation. He propped his chin on his hand, turning to you with an almost lazy smile. “And you’re far more entertaining than whatever Blaise and Pansy were droning on about.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “What do you even want from me?”

Draco leaned closer, his voice dropping just enough to make it feel conspiratorial. “What’s wrong with wanting to spend time with you?”

“Plenty,” you snapped, your tone sharp. “Because I don’t want to spend time with you.”

Heeseung let out a low chuckle, clearly unbothered by your hostility. “See, that’s what makes this fun. Most people fall over themselves to get on our good side. But you?” He gestured to you. “You’re not afraid to tell us off. It’s refreshing.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to your notes in the hopes that ignoring them might make them leave. “I don’t care if you find it refreshing. Go bother someone else.”

But, of course, they stayed put.

Draco pulled one of your books closer to him, flipping through it idly. “History of Magic? Boring,” he commented, wrinkling his nose.

Heeseung leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he peered at your notes. “Are you really studying, or are you just pretending so we’ll leave you alone?”

You slapped your hand down over your parchment, glaring at him. “I was studying until you showed up.”

Draco laughed, tossing the book aside. “ Admit it. You’d miss us if we left you alone.”

“I’d celebrate if you left me alone,” you shot back.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Heeseung said, leaning even closer. “You’ll hurt our feelings.”

“I doubt either of you has feelings,” you muttered under your breath, turning your attention back to your notes.

Draco raised an eyebrow, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that.”

For the next few minutes, they continued their antics—poking at your books, making sarcastic comments about your notes, and generally being as insufferable as possible.

But then Madam Pince’s sharp voice cut through the air. “If you three can’t keep it down, I’ll have you removed from the library!”

You seized the opportunity, shooting to your feet and gathering your things. “Good idea,” you said, your tone clipped. “I’ll remove myself.”

Before they could say anything, you slipped past them and hurried out of the library, your heart pounding with equal parts irritation and relief.

Another thing you hated about pureblood Slytherins was their egos—massive, sky-high, and unrelenting. It would take a catastrophic event to bring them down a peg. And because of that ego, they always went for things that would feed it, things that would boost their status, power, and sense of superiority. They believed they deserved the best—whether it was fame, wealth, influence, or...

Well, apparently you.

Which made absolutely no sense.

Because here you were, in the middle of yet another detention (this time for hexing a Gryffindor who wouldn’t take no for an answer—big deal), and somehow, somehow, you’d ended up against the wall of the empty Potions classroom.

Kissing Heeseung.

Your brain struggled to catch up with the situation, thoughts running in frantic circles as his lips pressed firmly against yours. It wasn’t soft or hesitant, no—it was confident and teasing, much like the boy himself.

How the hell had it come to this?

Just moments ago, you’d been sitting at your desk, silently fuming as Snape rattled off on a long lecture before leaving you to clean up the mess of spilled potion ingredients. Heeseung, had been there too, lounging in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” he had said, leaning back with an infuriating grin. “Hexing people now? You’re starting to sound like us, you know.”

“Don’t lump me in with you,” you’d snapped, aggressively scrubbing the cauldron in front of you.

“Why not? You’ve got the temper for it,” he’d teased, standing up and sauntering closer.

You’d turned to glare at him, your grip tightening on the rag in your hand. “Say that again, and I’ll hex you next.”

“Oh, scary,” he’d murmured, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch. “Go ahead. Hex me. I dare you.”

And then, before you could even think of a retort, he’d closed the distance between you, his lips crashing into yours with the same audacity that he carried in everything he did.

Now, here you were, pinned against the cold stone wall, your heart racing and your hands frozen mid-air as he kissed you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your first coherent thought was to push him off, and you did—your palms pressing against his chest as you shoved him back. He stepped away with a smirk, completely unbothered, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

Heeseung tilted his head, his smirk never faltering. “What does it look like? It’s called kissing.”

“You don’t just—just do that!” you sputtered, your cheeks burning with anger.

“Why not?” he asked, his tone maddeningly casual. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thanks,” he said smoothly, running a hand through his hair like he hadn’t just turned your entire world upside down.

“Don’t thank me—it wasn’t a compliment!” you snapped, still trying to wrap your head around what had just happened.

Heeseung laughed softly, stepping closer again—but this time, you pressed your back firmly against the wall, holding up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t even think about it,” you warned, your eyes narrowing.

“Relax,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m not going to kiss you again.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Because it wouldn’t happen even if you tried.”

“Really?” he asked, as he leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. “Because I think you liked it.”

Your jaw dropped, and you opened your mouth to argue—but no words came out.

Because, unfortunately, a very small part of you had liked it.

And from the way Heeseung was looking at you, he knew it too.

That brief moment of hesitation—barely a second—was all Heeseung needed.

Before you could pull yourself together or think of something sharp to say, he closed the distance again, capturing your lips in another kiss. This time, it was different. It wasn’t rushed or teasing—it was confident, and demanding.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up. Your hands shot up to push him back, but he was faster. His fingers wrapped around your wrists, and with a swift movement, he pinned them above your head against the stone wall.

The shift startled you, and your lips parted to protest, but Heeseung used the moment to deepen the kiss, groaning softly into your mouth as his body pressed against yours.

Your heart was racing, pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it. You hated the way his touch sent a shiver down your spine, hated the way his lips moved against yours like he knew exactly what he was doing.

But most of all, you hated that you weren’t stopping him.

It had been a while—a long while—since you’d let anyone get this close to you. And you couldn’t deny that Heeseung was... handsome. Annoyingly so. And, as much as it pained you to admit, a damn good kisser.

You fought it at first, your pride screaming at you to push him off, to put him back in his place. But the longer the kiss went on, the harder it was to ignore the way your body was betraying you by leaning into his.

Heeseung must’ve felt the shift because his grip on your wrists loosened slightly, as he realized you weren’t resisting anymore.

So, you let yourself indulge, just for a moment. Your lips moved against his, tentative at first, then more certain as you gave in.

His groan deepened, vibrating against your mouth, and the sound sent another shiver down your spine. His hands slid from your wrists, releasing you as his palms settled on your waist instead, pulling you closer.

For a moment, it was easy to forget where you were, easy to ignore the fact that this was Heeseung, an insufferable pureblood Slytherin.

But the moment couldn’t last forever.

The sharp creak of the classroom door opening snapped you out of it like a bucket of cold water.

You shoved Heeseung away, your breath coming in quick, uneven pants as you turned toward the sound. Filch’s scruffy silhouette loomed in the doorway, his squinting eyes scanning the room suspiciously.

“What’s all this noise?” he barked, his voice gravelly and accusing.

Your face burned as you quickly stepped away from Heeseung, who looked frustratingly calm and unbothered, like he hadn’t just kissed you senseless against the wall.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, smoothing down your robes and hoping your flushed face wasn’t too obvious.

Filch grumbled something under his breath before narrowing his eyes at the both of you. “Get back to work,” he snapped, before turning and stomping off down the hallway.

As the door slammed shut behind him, you turned to glare at Heeseung, who was watching you with a satisfied smile, his hair slightly mussed and his lips still pink from the kiss.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you hissed, keeping your voice low just in case Filch was still nearby.

Heeseung shrugged, his smirk only widening. “You didn’t seem to mind it by the end.”

Your face burned again, and you clenched your fists, tempted to hex him on the spot. “Don’t push your luck.”

He stepped closer, leaning down just enough to whisper in your ear. “If that’s how you react when you resist, I can’t wait to see how you act when you’re not trying to fight it.”

Before you could respond—either with words or violence—he was already moving away, leaving you standing there, furious, flustered, and more confused than ever.

Okay, so maybe kissing Heeseung wasn’t that bad. The guy had practically acted desperate for it, like he’d been waiting for that moment forever. And fine, you’d kind of enjoyed it.

But you’d sworn to yourself—repeatedly, in fact—that it would never, ever, in a million, trillion, gazillion years, happen again. You wouldn’t allow it.

…Except, apparently, self-control was harder than you thought.

Because here you were, pressed up against the cold stone wall near the Slytherin common room, Heeseung’s robes fanning out around you as he shielded you from view, his hand gripping the side of your neck while his lips moved hungrily against yours.

Your hands weren’t much better—they had a mind of their own, one gripping his tie and the other clutching at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer.

It was reckless. It was stupid. It was everything you’d sworn you wouldn’t let happen again.

And yet, when his thumb brushed the sensitive skin of your jaw and his tongue grazed your lower lip, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Heeseung broke the kiss for just a second, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath.

“You’re terrible at keeping promises to yourself, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and slightly ragged.

“Shut up,” you muttered, but there wasn’t any real bite to it, not with the way your chest was heaving and your fingers were still gripping his tie.

Heeseung chuckled softly, leaning down to press another kiss to the corner of your mouth before trailing his lips along your jaw, making your breath hitch.

“This is a bad idea,” you said, even as you tilted your head to give him better access.

“The worst,” he agreed, his voice muffled against your skin.

“You’re going to get us caught,” you added, your fingers tightening in his shirt.

“Then stop me,” he challenged, pulling back just enough to look at you, his smirk creeping back now.

You hated how smug he looked, like he knew you wouldn’t actually do it. And the worst part? He was right.

Instead of pushing him away, you pulled him closer, tugging on his tie and crashing your lips back onto his. His quiet groan vibrated against your mouth as his hand slid down to your waist, gripping you like he was afraid you might change your mind.

But you didn’t.

At least, not until the sound of approaching footsteps made both of you freeze.

Heeseung cursed under his breath, quickly adjusting his robes and stepping back just enough to make it look like nothing had happened. You smoothed down your hair and robes in record time, silently praying that whoever was coming wouldn’t notice how flushed you looked.

A group of Slytherin students rounded the corner, laughing and talking amongst themselves. One of them narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the two of you as he passed.

“What are you doing lurking out here?” he asked, his tone dripping with suspicion.

“Just talking,” Heeseung said smoothly, flashing one of his charming smiles.

The slytherin didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged and kept walking, the rest of the group following him into the common room.

As soon as they were out of sight, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, turning to glare at Heeseung.

“This is why I said it was a bad idea,” you hissed.

Heeseung grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “Bad ideas are more fun, don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him as you headed down the hallway. “Don’t get used to it, Heeseung. It’s not happening again.”

“Whatever you say,” he called after you, his tone confident. “But you’re terrible at keeping promises, remember?”

You didn’t bother responding, but the heat creeping up your neck told you that, once again, he was probably right.

And he was right… again, and again, and again.

It was infuriating how easily Heeseung managed to worm his way back to you, over and over. At first, it was once a day—a moment between classes or in an empty corridor. Then once became twice, twice became four, and before you knew it... you’d lost count.

It was like he’d memorized your schedule, always managing to find you at the exact moment you were alone. Whether it was slipping into an empty classroom, pulling you into a alcove, or even cornering you in the library when no one else was around, Heeseung always found a way.

And the worst part? You let him.

Every time, you told yourself it would be the last. Every time, you promised you’d shove him away, hex him, or at least say no. But the moment his lips were on yours, his hands gripping your waist or threading through your hair, your resolve crumbled like parchment in a fire.

And it was always him who started it—Heeseung who instigated, Heeseung who sought you out, Heeseung who acted like you were his personal secret to keep.

And you hated yourself for how much you didn’t hate it.

This time, it was in an empty stairwell, tucked away from prying eyes. You barely had time to register his presence before he was there, his hand grabbing yours and pulling you into the shadowed corner.

“Heeseung,” you hissed, but he didn’t give you a chance to protest.

His lips crashed onto yours with the same familiar desperation, one hand curling around the back of your neck while the other slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You gasped into his mouth, fingers curling into his robes before you could stop yourself.

“Missed you,” he mumbled against your lips, his voice low and breathless.

“You saw me two hours ago,” you muttered, but your words were muffled as he kissed you again, stealing away whatever resistance you’d managed to muster.

Two hours, four hours, it didn’t matter. The way he kissed you made it feel like he’d been waiting an eternity.

And it was addictive.

“People are going to notice,” you said between kisses, your hands gripping his shoulders like they were the only thing keeping you upright.

“Let them,” he said, his voice laced with amusement, though you knew he didn’t mean it. Whatever this was between you, it was still a secret. A forbidden, reckless secret that you both somehow managed to keep under wraps.

For now.

But Heeseung didn’t seem to care about the risk. If anything, it only seemed to fuel him.

“Stop overthinking,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your jaw before trailing down your neck. You shivered, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his robes as he pressed a particularly firm kiss just below your ear.

For someone you were supposed to dislike, Heeseung had a way of making you forget all the reasons why this was a bad idea.

You would’ve thought that someone would’ve noticed. With the way things were escalating, it seemed impossible that no one had caught on. But somehow, miraculously, no one did. You figured you and Heeseung would keep this up for a while, maybe until one of you got bored, or until your resistance finally cracked through.

But of course, that didn’t happen.

Instead, what happened was Draco.

It started off like any other day—just another class, just another moment when you were certain you’d get through the day without any major complications. You were walking down the hall, trying to get to the library for a study session when you felt a familiar, irritating presence looming just behind you.

You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Draco. The smug aura he exuded practically followed him like a cloud.

But then, before you could even make the decision to ignore him, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you to a stop.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked, a sharp edge to your voice as you yanked your wrist back.

“I think we need to talk,” Draco said, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous light you didn’t trust for a second.

You crossed your arms, eyeing him with suspicion. “What, about what? How much of a pain you are?”

“Something like that,” he murmured.

You barely had time to react before Draco closed the gap between you, one hand gripping your shoulder as he pulled you towards him. His lips pressed against yours with a force you hadn’t expected, and your body tensed in shock.

It wasn’t like Heeseung’s kisses, not in the least. Where Heeseung was often teasing, in a way that made you shiver, Draco was… commanding. He kissed you like he thought he had every right to, like there was no room for resistance.

Your first instinct was to push him away, but then you froze. Your body didn’t react the way it had with Heeseung—there was no heat flooding your chest, no rush of excitement. Instead, you were caught between the confusion of why this was happening and the overwhelming sense of deja vu.

Draco pulled back just slightly, looking at you with an amused glint in his eyes. “Surprised, aren’t you?”

You blinked, still trying to process what the hell had just happened. “Why would you—”

“Because I can,” Draco interrupted smoothly, his tone all too familiar, like he was enjoying this more than he should.

You scoffed, trying to push him off, but his grip on your shoulder tightened, keeping you locked in place. "You’re insane,” you muttered.

“Yeah," Draco said with a smirk. "But you’ll always remember that i gave you attention.”

And with that, he stepped back, his eyes lingering on you for just a moment longer than necessary before he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there, dazed and more confused then ever.

Well, this was a lost cause.

You really didn’t know if they had taken something, or if you had somehow been sprayed down by some potion that made them act this way. Or maybe they’d both gone completely mad. Because now, you were stuck in this strange, twisted mess where both Heeseung and Draco seemed to think they had the right to kiss you whenever they felt like it. And worse, you couldn’t resist.

Every time they were near, your resolve crumbled faster than you could rebuild it. One would find you in the hallway, the other in the library, and then it would happen again. Another kiss. Another moment you had no control over.

It was maddening, but also… tempting.

There was a part of you that couldn’t deny it. Sure, you could resist them, keep pushing them away, but what was the fun in that? Attention like this didn’t come regularly at all. Hell, it wasn’t normal for anyone to have two arrogant, handsome Slytherins fighting for their attention. And if you were honest, even just for a second, you kind of liked it.

So why not have a little fun with it?

It wasn’t like you had anything to lose, right? Besides your pride, maybe. But pride was overrated, especially when they were both so good at what they did. And maybe it was the thrill of it all—the secrecy, the danger of getting caught, or maybe the idea that you were wanted by two of the most insufferable, yet undeniably attractive, people at Hogwarts.

You didn’t know. You weren’t even sure you cared anymore.

One evening, you found yourself slipping into a quiet corridor, headed to the library for some much-needed solitude. But, of course, Heeseung was there.

“You’re awfully quick to retreat these days,” he remarked, his voice light, teasing. “Hiding from me?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it off. “Hardly.”

“Then why don’t you stay and chat with me for a bit?” He stepped closer, his eyes scanning you.

Before you could even answer, he’d cupped your face in his hand, pulling you toward him. His lips met yours with an ease that made it feel like nothing had changed. His kiss was soft at first, but the pressure grew quickly, the heat of his touch igniting a familiar spark within you.

And, just like that, the resistance was gone.

A few breaths later, Heeseung pulled back, looking at you with that same, infuriatingly smug smile.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he teased, his voice low and amused. “You like this more than you want to admit.”

You opened your mouth, about to defend yourself, to argue, but before you could form the words, Heeseung leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss.

You didn’t fight it. You didn’t want to.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his robes, the feel of his body against yours sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, Heeseung guided you backward, his lips still on yours as he moved you toward the wall.

When your back hit the stone of the wall, Heeseung broke the kiss just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was hungry, but there was also something tender in the way he watched you.

"See? I knew you’d come around,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You swallowed, trying to steady your thoughts. "Sure, sure," you muttered, but even you could hear the lack of conviction in your voice.

He smiled that smile, the one that made your stomach flip. “Admit it. You like it when I’m like this.”

You should’ve pushed him away. You should’ve told him to stop, to back off, but all that came out was a small, frustrated sigh as he kissed you again, this time more insistent.

His hand suddenly gripped your thigh, lifting it effortlessly to hitch it around his hip. The movement was quick, and before you could think, you found yourself pressed even closer to him.

You should’ve pulled away, told him this wasn’t you, that you weren’t this person. But instead, you let him.

His mouth left yours for a moment, just for a moment as his lips trailed down your jaw as you gasped for air, your hands moving instinctively to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his robes like it was the only thing anchoring you to reality.

"You're not pushing me away," he murmured against your skin, his voice laced with satisfaction, like he knew exactly what you were feeling. "Might start thinking you want this."

You clenched your jaw, unwilling to admit that he might be right, as he pulled you closer, his hand sliding to your back, his lips finding the soft spot beneath your ear.

Damn him.

All you could focus on was him—his touch, the way his body moved against yours, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing in the world worth paying attention to.

You should’ve stopped. You knew you should’ve. But when his lips found yours again, slow and deep, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away.

Then Heeseung's hand suddenly, ever so subtly, glided underneath your skirt, his touch gentle. You could feel his fingers trace the curve of your thigh, a sensation that sent a shiver down your spine.

Without breaking eye contact, you reached for his green tie, your fingers working to untie the knot. The fabric slipped from his neck, falling away with a soft rustle.

Slowly, you tugged at the collar of his shirt, pushing it aside, revealing more of his neck, and Heeseung let out a low, appreciative sound. His lips moved back to yours in a needy kiss.

And just when you thought you’d lost yourself completely, a voice—unexpected, unmistakable—cut through the haze of your thoughts.

"Really?"

You broke away from Heeseung, looking up to see Draco standing at the end of the hall, his eyes narrowed, his posture tense. He’d been watching the entire exchange, his expression a storm of emotion.

"Really!?" Draco shouted now, his voice was sharp, like a whip crack. "You think you can just—" He cut himself off, stepping forward, his eyes flicking from you to Heeseung. "Just take her like that!?"

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling your skirt rise higher as Heeseung kept you in place. You tried to ease out of his grasp, gently attempting to pull your leg down, but his hand tightened on your thigh in response, pulling you back toward him. It was like he refused to let go of you, like you were a prize he wasn’t ready to relinquish.

“Let her go, Heeseung,” Draco spat, stepping closer, his jaw clenched in frustration. His eyes darted between the two of you, and it was clear he didn’t like seeing Heeseung so close to you. “She doesn’t belong to you.”

Heeseung’s gaze remained cool, as he leaned in closer to you. "She doesn’t belong to you either," he replied back. His fingers traced the edge of your skirt, the contact sending an involuntary shiver through you. "But if she chooses to be here, with me," he added, "then that’s her choice, not yours."

Draco was visibly seething now, taking another step forward, his hand reaching out as if he could just take you from Heeseung. But before he could get any closer, Heeseung suddenly spun you around, his arm wrapping securely around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The movement was quick, shielding you from Draco’s view, and you were now facing Heeseung, back to Draco, as Heeseung’s hands gripped you tight, his breath warm against your ear. "You want her?" Heeseung’s voice was soft, but there was an edge to it. "You’ll have to do better than that."

You were trapped between them—caught in their struggle, their silent battle for possession. And as you stood there, something inside of you wondered how you’d gotten here, caught between two people who seemed determined to claim you, as if you were a prize in their war.

But you weren’t anyone’s to take, were you?

Before you could fully process the thought, Draco’s voice sliced through the air again, a low, mocking laugh slipping from his lips.

“You really think you can keep her to yourself, Heeseung?” Draco sneered.

And yet, Heeseung didn’t let go, didn’t back down. Instead, he kept you pressed against him, his breath still warm on your neck.

“Let her decide,” Heeseung’s voice was a growl, holding you like he wasn’t about to let go.

For a moment, everything went silent. You felt the heat of both their glares, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to move away from Heeseung’s grasp.

They had given you time to decide, but it was clear they were both impatient.

But you didn’t want any part of this. You hadn’t asked for this—any of it. All you wanted was a peaceful year, a chance to get through your classes, study, and avoid being caught up in whatever power struggle was unfolding between Heeseung and Draco. But here you were, stuck in the middle, torn between two people.

How were you supposed to choose between them?

Your heart raced, thoughts spinning in every direction. Both of them were waiting for you to make a decision, but the truth was, you didn’t want to choose at all. You didn’t want to get involved in their rivalry, didn’t want to be the reason for whatever animosity existed between them.

"I don’t want to be part of this," you muttered, frustration boiling beneath the surface as you finally spoke up, unable to keep it in any longer. "I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want to be some kind of... trophy for either of you."

But both of them merely exchanged a glance before turning their attention back to you.

"Nobody said you were a trophy," Heeseung replied.

Draco, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes, stepping closer as if he were trying to close the gap between the three of you. "No one gets to walk away, not when we’ve already made our intentions clear," he said, his voice low. "So you either pick or let me show you why i am the better choice."

Your stomach twisted as the pressure mounted, and you felt that sense of dread creeping up on you. You had no idea how to navigate this—how to choose one of them.

It wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. You just wanted to survive the year, get through it without becoming a pawn in some twisted game. But as you all stood there, waiting for you to make your move, you couldn’t help but feel like there was no way out.

How could you even choose?

a/n: im gonna end it here and leave it up to you dear reader! who would to choose? personally i was never a draco girl so yeah.

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