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kjhbsies · 4 days ago

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Rumor Has It

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James Potter x Slytherin!reader

synopsis: James Potter is in a secret relationship with Y/N, but things spiral when someone mistakes Regulus Black for Y/N’s boyfriend and spreads the rumor around Hogwarts. How far will he go before he can’t take it anymore?

wordcount: 2, 376

note: 16+ fluff. part II?

He was in Gryffindor— the golden boy, Quidditch captain, and this year's Head Boy. She was a Slytherin— sharp-tongued, keen, and entirely off-limits.

James Potter had a reputation to maintain, and people finding out that you and him were dating would spark nasty rumors, ones that could damage both of your standings. So, one night, hidden in the shadows behind one of the castle's staircases, he proposed that you two keep your relationship a secret.

You immediately agreed. You'd never hear the end of it if someone knew, anyway.

But right now, you were perched on James's lap, your back pressed against the cold walls of an unused classroom. The boy kissed you with hunger, like he hadn't seen you for months.

"Missed you so much, love." He murmured against your lips, hands snaking at the nape of your neck, pulling you impossibly close.

You smiled into the kiss, fingers tangling on his messy curls. "We were just in the same class not an hour ago."

"Details, details," He hummed, fingers creeping dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

Sure, the two of you shared classes. But between the rift of the two houses— Gryffindor and Slytherin— you two were only reduced to stolen glances, shared smirks behind textbooks, fleeting brushes of fingers as you two passed by each other. Moments that meant everything, but looked like nothing, especially under the watchful eyes of his rowdy friends.

The same group that made a habit of declaring an absolute hatred for your house. Who never missed a chance to sneer at Lucius Malfoy or mock Severus Snape. Who would lose their minds if they found out that James Potter, of all people, was sneaking around with a Slytherin girl.

It all happened at last year's Yule Ball after party. Everyone was beet drunk, sneaking in a couple of firewhiskey and muggle beers and alcohols. You found James pissed drunk, staggering through the rose bush before puking out.

You were just trying to get some fresh air, having been suffocated in a room full of intoxicated young adults. You found him slumped against the stone bench, suit disheveled, crown of the night askew.

"Such an unexpected act from a Slytherin like you," James threw a lopsided smirk when you handed him a bottle of water that you just conjured.

"And such an expected act from a Gryffindor like you. So reckless and annoying." You muttered, rolling your eyes at him.

You expected him to leave you alone after that. Act like nothing happened.

But he didn't.

After that night, James couldn't stop seeing you— even when you weren't looking his way. Couldn't help noticing the twist of your mouth when you read, or how you sat in the far corner of the library where the sun always hit the table just right.

You knew who he was. Everyone did. The James Potter. The boy who pined after Lily Evans for six years. So, yes, you were skeptical. You thought it was a prank. A bet. Some stupid Gryffindor game orchestrated by his infamous friends.

But then weeks passed. Months. And he kept showing up. With books. With sweets. With flushed cheeks and sincere eyes. He started learning the little things about you— like how you tie your shoelace twice, or how you hummed when you were stressed.

And eventually, you gave in.

Honestly, your dating life was surprisingly good. Shocking, even. James turned out to be nothing like what you'd expected. He was thoughtful, passionate, and stupidly charming. He made you laugh. Made you feel seen. The problem was... well, it was a secret.

You weren't famous, per se. Sure, many people knew of you— top of your year, Slug Club regular, often praised by professors. But your name didn't echo towards the halls— not in a way that James's did. Which was fine. You liked it that way.

Most people would never expect you to be James Potter's secret lover. And that was fine, too. You were secure in yourself. Let them think what they want.

But the thing that pisses you off the most was when everyone still kept teasing James with Lily. It was relentless, to say the least. You've heard about the comments. Even his friends laughed about it, like it was some unshakeable part of his identity. You knew they meant no harm— that it was all good and fun— but Merlin, it gets exhausting. Especially now that both of them were Head Students. The school seemed obsessed with watching their every move.

Still, James never made you feel less. Never made you feel like you're the second best. And you were extremely grateful for that.

Sirius Black, for all his charms and recklessness, has an absolute talent for unknowingly stirring the pot.

"Do you reckon Y/n has a boyfriend?" He whispered during Flitwick's lecture, nudging James with his elbow.

James's head snapped toward him so fast. "What?"

Sirius smirked, "I mean, I know we said not to involve ourselves with Slytherins, but I could turn a blind eye. For her, I'd even forgive Malfoy."

James blinked. He felt his left eye twitch. His internal monologue was screaming.

Over my dead, hexed, and dismembered body.

"Who are you talking about?" Peter leaned in.

"Y/n Y/l/n." Sirius said without missing a beat, eyes still glued to where you sat a few rows ahead, effortlessly answering Flitwick's question. "Slytherin's babe."

James's hand gripped his quill so hard that it snapped in two. Sirius didn't even notice.

Peter let out a snort. "Oh, you're too late."

Sirius and James both turned to him, twin expressions of horror and confusion.

"Word is, your brother beat you to it."

Silence.

"What?" James whispered, his voice unnaturally high, which earned looks from Remus, who had been listening quietly.

"Yeah. Regulus. Everyone's basically saying they're a thing now." Peter shrugged.

James's jaw dropped.

"What? Since when? How did that happen?" Sirius asked.

"I don't know, mate. Probably because he has the same face as yours but isn't annoying?"

Sirius scoffed. "Rude."

James's ears almost turned into a violent shade of red. Regulus? REGULUS?!

Remus finally cut in, trying to hush them when he caught Flitwick casting a suspicious glare at them. He nudged Peter with his foot under the desk.

But James was already spiraling. He barely heard a word of the lesson after that. He just stared straight ahead, occasionally throwing a glance your way.

After class, he wanted to march straight up to you and ask you about this Regulus nonsense. But he couldn't. Not with Sirius bouncing beside him, talking about dinner plans, and not with Peter listing why Regulus "would totally pull."

And definitely not with Andromeda swinging her arm around your shoulder, chatting your ear off, pulling you toward the dungeons with the ease of someone who doesn't have a secret boyfriend fuming five feet away.

James and you just quietly exchanged glances before parting in different ways.

"So, what do you mean by Y/n and Regulus?" James asked once they were in the Gryffindor common room. He tried to sound disinterested, like he was just trying to gossip. "He's a year younger than her."

"So?" Remus sat across from him. "Age doesn't matter. They're both adults."

"W-well, yeah, but—" James tried to explain something, but failed to do so.

"Reg doesn't even have game." Sirius still looked bothered by the thought of his own brother having a romantic interest.

Peter leaned back in the chair. "Maybe he doesn't. But he has the face. Mysterious, brooding, those dark, haunted eyes. He looks like a bloody romance lead in a gothic novel, and Y/n's the artsy type. They probably sit in the library and bond over tragedies."

"Yeah, I'm not gonna lie... they do look good together," Remus added.

James looked at him and frowned. "What do you mean they look good together?"

Remus shrugged, "She looks like the kind of girl who'd fall for someone like him— quiet, witty, and handsome."

WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. YOU'RE ALL WRONG. BECAUSE I'M DATING HER, YOU TWATS. James sat there, stewing in silence while his friends continued chatting. He barely said a word that night. Sirius assumed he was just sleepy, and Peter thought it was because of his Head Boy duties. But Remus?

Oh, Remus knew.

Later, when only the two of them were left behind, Remus caught up to James just before he went inside his separate Head Boy dorm.

"Hey," He called. "You dating someone?"

James froze.

"W-what?" He squeaked, trying to laugh it off,

Remus smiled, eyes too knowing. "Just asking. Valentine's day is coming up, after all. Lily might be expecting flowers from you. You know her type."

He winked and turned ahead towards the boys' dormitory, leaving James standing alone.

The next evening, James pulled you from the Great Hall after dinner and dragged you into his dorm, leaving no room for protest. His arm was slung over your shoulder like a possessive man, and now, you were on his bed— more accurately, you were pinned under him while he refused to let you go.

You'd barely managed to shuffle into his oversized Gryffindor Quidditch hoodie before he was already throwing himself at you like a starved dog.

He was quiet, oddly so, his arms wrapped around your waist firmly, his face buried into the crook of your neck. Ocassionally, you can hear him sniff you. He was literally inhaling your existence.

"...James?"

"Hmm..?"

Your brows furrowed slightly, fingers weaving through his dark curls— a trick you knew that would either soothe him or get him to talk. Hopefully both.

"You okay, love?" You asked, concern creeping into your voice. "You've been extra clingy tonight. More than usual. You've been practically attached to my hip like a koala."

He let out a muffled whimper against your neck, something between a grunt and a groan. Then, finally, he lifted his head and looked at you— brown, doe eyes, full pout in swing, and hair flopping boyishly on his head.

"Can I ask you something?" He said, very seriously.

Your fingers paused in his hair. "Of course."

"...Is there something going on with you and Regulus?"

Silence.

You blinked. "Regulus Black?"

James nodded miserably before burrowing his head into your lap.

"Love, what?" You asked, stunned and exasperated.

"I'm just asking." He mumbled. "People are saying things."

You laughed softly. "Okay, well, no. Nothing's going on with us. We're just friends. You know that."

James sat up. "Then why does everyone think you're dating him?"

You blinked again, trying to keep up with the sudden tempo change. His arms were crossed now, cheeks puffed out slightly, and brows drawn together like the cutest angry bear.

You bit back a smile. "I mean... maybe because we're friends and we do study together?"

"But I'm dating you!" He whispered-shouted, pointing at himself. "We've been together for months! Why is he the one everyone thinks you're snogging?"

"Probably because we're hiding this, James." You gestured at the two of you. "Like it's the crown jewels."

He flopped onto the bed with a dramatic groan. "Wormy heard the rumors. And you know he remembers everything and says it out loud like he's reading the newspaper headlines."

You lay down beside him and propped your head on your hand. "Okay... and what did he say?"

"That you and Regulus make sense. That you're both dark, mysterious, and brilliant, and pretty—"

You chuckled.

James glared at you. "And Moony agreed! He said you probably like quiet boys who look like they cry reading Wuthering Heights under the candlelight. What does that even mean?!"

You were full-on laughing now. "That does sound like Regulus."

James groaned again, rolling to his side so he could look at you. "And then Pads said you're pretty. And I almost popped a vein right there and then."

You gasped feigningly. "Sirius thinks I'm pretty? I must elope with him now."

"Don't joke like that!" He whined again.

You giggled, poking his chest. "I told you before, Regulus was just my friend. I help him with Potions, and he helps me with Charms. That's it. That's all."

James narrowed his eyes, still not convinced. "Are you sure you don't secretly like guys who brood?"

You booped his nose. "I only like you, Potter."

He huffed, a blush slowly creeping to his cheek. "...Really?"

"Yes. My sunshine, loud, chaotic boy."

James looked at you lovingly. But then, he tried to rally again, sitting up slightly. "I'm not jealous, by the way."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." He hummed. "I'm just saying. Regulus is all... poetic and quiet and mysterious and you like books and art and moody stuff—"

You raised a brow. "So... you are jealous."

"I am not!"

"You totally are." You sing-sung.

"Am not!"

"Then why are you pouting?" You teased, reaching over to squish his cheeks.

"I always pout." He grumbled, but didn't resist the affection.

"And why'd you drag me to your bed like a clingy boyfriend who lost his teddy bear?"

"Because I am your clingy boyfriend who lost his teddy bear."

"Aww," You cooed, leaning in to kiss his forehead. "My poor jelly baby."

"I'm not jelly," He said with a pout.

You peppered his face with kisses until he stopped sulking, which only took about eight seconds. You were now situated on his lap, hands cupping both of his cheeks, while his hands were on your waist, pulling you close.

"I like you, James Potter. Not my poetic, sad-boy friend. Not Sirius. Not Remus. Not Peter— although he is very entertaining."

"Thank Merlin." James sighed. "I don't think I could survive if I ever lost you to Regulus. I would become a monk."

"You? A monk? You couldn't go twelve hours without touching me."

He grinned, face buried in your shoulder. "You know me so well."

“I do. So trust me when I say you’re my favorite boy. The loudest, sweetest, most golden-hearted one of all.”

“Even if I don’t read Wuthering Heights?”

“Especially because you don’t read Wuthering Heights.”

James grinned.

And if you caught him muttering mine mine mine mine into your neck while you both fell asleep, you didn’t say anything.

But you definitely smiled the whole time.

©kjhbsies

taglist: @tamprongsobsessor

#james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x you #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #marauders #james potter

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rainydayathogwarts · 9 months ago

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ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ ᴛʀɪᴏ ᴇʀᴀ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ˋ°•*⁀➷ navigation

꩜ smut ❀ fluff 𖤓 angsty/angry 𖤐 funny

ʀᴏɴ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ jealous, jealous, jealous girl - ron notices you upping the PDA when Lavender starts flirting with him and you decide to show her who he belongs to (꩜𖤓)

✩ popular!shy!reader - ron’s friends think you were the one who made the move but are shocked to find out the opposite (❀𖤐)

✩ the dream - ron has a dirty dream and wakes up hard next to reader (꩜𖤐)

✩ needy - needy!ron misses you because you've been taking NEWTs too seriously but he finds the perfect moment to drag you into an empty classroom (꩜)

✩ overstimulation with dom!Ron (꩜)

✩ goodbye kisses that last longer than intended (❀𖤓𖤐)

✩ opposite teams - You play a Quidditch match against your boyfriend, who's a very sore loser (❀꩜𖤓)

✩ glossy lips - Wiping off lip gloss from his lips after a kiss (❀𖤐)

✩ late to class - Ron doesn't want you to leave to class so soon and manages a convincing excuse for you to stay (꩜)

✩ unsteady desk chair - When ron's been locked in his dorm trying to finish an essay all afternoon, you decide to help motivate him a little (꩜)

✩ shameless - Ron and his gf are absolutely shameless about pda, even with their friends around. They face some friendly consequences (𖤐)

✩ the chosen one - Ron has lived in the chosen one's shadow since they became best friends, so when he gets the one thing Harry wants, he decides to never let go (𖤓)

✩ sewing kit - "The instant Ron came to you asking for help sewing a rip in his t-shirt, Molly knew you were the woman he was going to marry." (❀)

✩ i think i've seen this film before - when sirius found out that bellatrix lestrange was having a daughter, he did everything in his power to protect her. he never met her until one day she showed up at his doorstep the same way he had at the potters. but what he didn't know was that she was dating a boy who was under this very roof. (❀𖤓)

✩ buy you a drink - when ron unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams through a one night stand, he rushes to tell his friends the next day. but unfortunately, that reveals some new information about you, the apparent love of his life. (❀꩜)

Ron won't stop complaining about Seamus and his girlfriend taking up the dorm until he's the one with a girl in there. coming soon...

ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

concussions and interruptions au wolfstar!daughter au

✩ Harry's bi awakening (𖤐)

✩ "you knew?" "you didn't?" - In which the twins only just find out their sister is dating Harry (𖤐)

✩ me and you - You keep telling Ron to just 'ask her out' but he won't take your word seriously until you take your own advice. Somehow, you both end up with dates... (❀𖤐)

✩ long kisses, risky places - When kissing in the library leads to something more... (❀𖤐)

✩ love, mum and dad - Harry gets the memory book you and James made for him to open on his 17th birthday, but he gets it a little sooner, and discovers things about the family he could have had (𖤓)

✩ more than anything - keeping your relationship a secret is difficult when you just can't stop staring at your boyfriend (❀𖤓)

✩ what boyfriend? - when you are bed ridden due to your period, Madame Pomfrey comes to check in on you and play match-maker (❀𖤐)

✩ summer lovin' - you decide to visit harry over the summer, playing the classic 'girl next door' so harry's uncle lets you in (❀)

✩ a job for a godparent - harry knows you're the love of his life, but he just needs to know that you want kids as much as he does. a day at his house over the summer confirms it. (❀)

✩ a motherly visit - when harry sends you another owl claiming that professor snape has it out for him, you decide to pay them a short visit (❀𖤐)

✩ second time's the charm - when you're bitten by greyback again during the battle of the astronomy tower, you find yourself with new company (❀𖤓)

✩ always the prefects bathroom - despite harry potter's presence in the prefects bathroom, you aren't stopped from taking a soothing bath (❀𖤐)

ɴᴇᴠɪʟʟᴇ ʟᴏɴɢʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ

✩ snake ring - In which the twins pull you into a game of seven minutes in heaven. (❀𖤐)

✩ dry-humping Neville at a party (❀꩜)

✩ kiss and tell - In which a very aware y/n of Neville's crush on her gets the courage to make a move (❀𖤐)

✩ stolen glances - Stealing glances at each other across the room until your friends notice (꩜𖤐)

✩ strangers to friends - Neville, terrified of a scary, confident slytherin, finds out that she's more welcoming than some of his own friends... An unlikely friendship develops (❀)

✩ grim greenhouses - when you defend neville against your cousin, he is convinced he has to give you a little gift as a thank you. but what happens when you decide to thank him for his gift? (❀꩜)

✩ creepy crawlers - your usually calm and composed front breaks in herbology, but neville comes to the rescue (❀)

ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ into the woods - Waking George up to go out for a morning walk at the Burrow has him feeling quite frisky (❀꩜)

✩ in this together - When you find out that your mother, Bellatrix Lestrange has escaped Azkaban, you have a crisis, thankfully short lived due to your boyfriend's care for the situation (❀𖤓)

✩ dear diary - Ron can't help his crush on his older brother's girlfriend, and catches himself in some inconvenient situations (꩜𖤐)

✩ bloody quills and teary eyes - George comforts you after your first detention with Umbridge (❀𖤓)

✩ god, i missed you so much - when you and george have spent the last few months doing long-distance, with you at hogwarts while he runs the shop, the reunion is bound to be good (❀𖤓)

✩ reasonless hatred - severus snape's daughter causes him nothing but chaos, hatred where love should be in their relationship. but she is finally given a real reason to hate her father, and she decides to give him one to hate her too (❀𖤓)

ᴏʟɪᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴏᴅ

✩ I already won - even though he very much lost the game, he still won you (❀𖤓)

✩ how he reacts when you tell him you're in the mood (꩜)

✩ blood, dirt and reunions - You almost die and reunite with an old ex-boyfriend... or not (❀𖤓)

ꜱᴇᴀᴍᴜꜱ ꜰɪɴɴᴇɢᴀɴ

✩ tipsy - Seamus takes care of you when you're drunk (❀𖤐)

✩ safe in his arms - Brother!Harry Potter makes Seamus promise him to keep you safe because of how obvious your feelings are for each other (❀𖤓)

ᴄʜᴀʀʟɪᴇ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ guilt trip - Charlie tries to guilt trip the reader to visit his family with him (❀𖤓)

✩ bloody introductions - When some of Charlie's siblings break in to his apartment to surprise him, they find out about his roommate/girlfriend (❀𖤐)

ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ just a swim - Percy's partner tries to get him to break a couple of rules (❀𖤐)

✩ how they react when you're in the mood (꩜)

'For the first time in his life, Percy pushes academics aside to focus on a girl, but his family doesn't know and thinks he has gone down a dark road.' coming soon...

ꜰʀᴇᴅ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ before you go - fred weasley has relentlessly asked you out for years, but you’ve never given the younger boy a chance. not until sixth year, when he makes the compelling argument that if the date goes terribly, at least it’ll be the last year you’ll ever see him at hogwarts. (❀꩜)

✩ ready for bed - ready for bed, you didn't bother to cover your hickeys, because you had nowhere to be, right? (𖤐)

ʙɪʟʟ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ "malfoy" "weasley" - when you watch the quidditch world cup with your family, the last thing you're expecting is to see an old friend. a weasley. (❀𖤐)

ᴄᴇᴅʀɪᴄ ᴅɪɢɢᴏʀʏ

✩ no disturbances - You and Cedric make such a cute couple that teachers have turned a blind eye to several accounts of PDA (❀𖤐)

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ᴋʀᴜᴍ

✩ what's her face - Rita skeeter being annoying (𖤐)

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ

✩ someone finds out you're dating

✩ he gets turned on at the wrong time

✩ she gets turned on at the wrong time

#ron weasley smut #ron wealsey #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #neville longbottom x reader #neville x reader #cedric diggory #george weasley #viktor krum #charlie weasley #percy weasley #seamus finnegan x reader #seamus finnigan #oliver wood smut #oliver wood x reader #rainydayathogwarts #masterlist #rainydayathogwarts masterlists

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cruel-seduction · 7 days ago

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Not So Golden Now, Are You? (2)

Summary - Where in your not-quite-friendship with James Potter thrives on mutual mockery—you call him daddy’s babygirl for living off his pureblood trust fund, he calls you whatever gets under your skin fastest. It’s never serious… until he parrots back a joke you made about your looks, the kind of joke people only make after crying over it alone. What he thought was harmless banter turns out to be your breaking point, and while everyone else laughs it off, you don’t. Not this time. And now James—cocky, clueless, James—is stuck trying to fix a crack he didn’t mean to make, humiliating himself in ways no Marauder ever has… all in the hopes of earning a single, goddamn, laugh from you again.

Tone: Gritty, emotional, enemies-to-lovers like kinda (idk I am confused myself. What do you mean just cause I wrote it I should know what it means) with heavy hurt/comfort and a golden boy begging for forgiveness.

Part -1

The courtyard was buzzing. Breaktime at Hogwarts always was—students spread across stone benches and patches of sun-warmed grass, laughter echoing, owls swooping overhead. It was the kind of day where everything felt too bright.

And then you saw him.

James Potter.

Striding through the middle of it like he owned the light, only this time… something was off. His shoulders weren’t cocky. His grin wasn’t smug. And in his hands—clutched awkwardly, like it might bite him—was a mug. Ceramic. White. Painted with messy little Quidditch doodles and a crooked heart.

He spotted you across the courtyard. You didn’t move.

You hadn’t planned on talking to him again. Not yet. Not like this.

Especially not after what you’d heard that morning. The Marauders had cursed a Slytherin so bad he spent an hour puking slugs and crying. Supposedly, it was James’s idea. Supposedly, he said it was “for a laugh.” Your stomach turned.

Cruel.

Heartless.

Classic Marauder bullshit.

And after everything? After that night in the Astronomy Tower where you bled your heart raw—he went right back to it.

You stood up the moment he neared. Jaw tight.

“Hey,” James said, breathless, that dumb hopeful glint in his eyes. “Thought maybe we could, you know… start over.” He extended the mug toward you. “Cold coffee.”

You took it. Smiled. Sweet. And without a word— Threw it directly in his face.

Gasps echoed.

The courtyard went dead quiet. The splash of coffee dripped from his curls and chin, soaking his collar. He blinked against it, stunned. A little broken. Then, slowly—he wiped a hand down his cheek.

“Alright,” he coughed. “Deserved that.”

You didn’t wait. You turned on your heel and stormed off before he could see the rage brewing behind your eyes—no, worse—before he could see the pain.

You didn’t look back once.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

You hid in the library after that.

Sat behind rows of thick tomes, clutching a copy of Advanced Hex Theory you weren’t reading. Your face still burned, your heart pounding as you replayed the whole thing again.

You shouldn’t feel bad. He deserved it.

Except… then came the whisper. The real reason behind that Slytherin prank.

“Did you hear? That bloke called lily mudblood yesterday. Loud. Didn’t even flinch. And not only that he also tried to degrade her with other words too”

“Bloody scum. I think it was Sirius who heard it first—lost his mind.”

“Yeah, but James is the one who hexed him. Said, ‘you talk like that again, you won’t have a tongue left to use.’”

“Serves him right.”

You stared at the words on the page, unmoving. He wasn’t being cruel. He was defending someone. And that someone was none other than your bestfriend. You were so consumed with your feelings that you forgot to see her pain.

You cursed under your breath and leaned back, rubbing your hands over your face. Now you were the asshole.

Still—you crossed your arms, hugged your ribs tight, and whispered to yourself, “He was mean to me first.”

That was true, wasn’t it?

He was.

He hurt you.

He joked about your worth like it was nothing. So what if you threw a coffee in his face?

Still. The image of him, standing there soaked, blinking through the coffee with zero anger in his expression—just quiet acceptance—it clawed at you.

Because the worst part wasn’t what you did.

The worst part was that..... he was fine with it. Fuck. He smiled when you did that. That makes you wanna punch him and kiss him at the same time. Wait..? Kiss? Where did that come from? You don't wanna kiss him. Or at least your ego is too big to admit that you do.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Just because James was right to hex that Slytherin didn’t mean you owed him forgiveness. Being right about one thing didn’t erase being so wrong about you.

Because this—this wasn’t about just James.

It was about every time you looked in the mirror and thought, If I could just lose five more pounds, maybe then… Every time you starved yourself through breakfast. Chewed mint leaves between classes to kill the hunger. Every time you stood next to Lily Evans and felt like a dull, washed-out background character. A placeholder. Contrast.

The "funny one." The "smart one.” The "you’re so cool to hang out with but I’d never date you" one.

You weren't just mad at James.

You were mad at everything. The boys who flirted with your friends and didn’t see you. The girls who batted lashes and got everything you wanted. The body that never looked like the ones in Witch Weekly. The voice in your head that whispered, you’re nothing special, just learn to be okay with it.

And maybe it was wrong—projecting all of that onto James Potter. But God, you were just so tired. Too tired to uncoil all the layers. Too tired to explain why the joke hit different. Too tired to tell him: You took the last thread I was hanging on and yanked.

So you stayed mad. Silent. Cold. Distant. And James Potter?

James fucking Potter took that as a challenge.

At first, it was subtle.

A few too many glances your way during meals. A quiet “hi” when you passed in the corridor. Holding the door for you with awkward stiff limbs like he was scared you'd hex him just for existing.

You ignored it all. But then came…

The Violin.

It started on a Monday morning outside your Arithmancy class. A screech. A very broken-sounding screech. Like someone was strangling a cat while dragging their nails down a chalkboard.

You flinched. Everyone flinched.

And then—James Potter turned the corner, standing there with a violin tucked under his chin, a determined sparkle in his eye, and murder in his fingers. “(Y/N)!” he called brightly, eyes locking on yours. “This one’s for you.”

You blinked. “The hell it is—”

He sawed at the strings like he was trying to kill the instrument with sound alone. “I’m soooooorryyyyyyy—!” he sang off-key, not even trying to follow the right notes. “I’m an aaasssssholeeeee—!” Students around you began to whisper. One girl laughed so hard she snorted. A Ravenclaw boy dropped his quill and muttered, “What the actual f—”

You stood there. Mortified. Speechless. He ended the "serenade" with a dramatic bow and winked at you. “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

You hexed the violin into a pile of wood chips the next day before he even got through the second verse. James, picking up the splinters, grinned at you like you handed him a bouquet. “Thanks,” he said, completely sincere. “I think it wanted to die anyway.”

You didn’t smile. But you didn’t walk away either. You just stand there watching James get scolded by your professor while he was giving you wink.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor dorms:

James flopped face-first onto his bed, groaning into his pillow. “She hates me.” “No shit,” Sirius muttered, tossing a Bertie Bott’s bean into his mouth. “You publicly compared her to beige wallpaper.”

Remus looked up from his book. “Well, actually, you implied she was the reason the wallpaper looked better. Still cruel. But poetic.”

“I’m trying,” James whined. “I’m playing music! I’m serenading her!” “You’re torturing her eardrums,” Peter said. James rolled onto his back. “You think she’ll ever forgive me?”

Remus didn’t even blink. “Not if you keep murdering instruments.” James groaned again and stared at the ceiling. “I just—I want her to smile at me again. Not that sarcastic one. The real one. The one where her nose scrunches and her eyes do that squinty-shiny thing.”

Sirius gagged. “Dude.”

“She used to laugh at my dumbest jokes.”

“You made her cry, James.”

James flinched. Visibly. “I know.”

There was a beat of silence. Then James whispered, “I wanna make her laugh again. Then make her fall in love with me. Then maybe after Hogwarts, we’ll get a flat together. Something small. Near a garden. With a stupid ugly cat she insists on naming after a pastry—like Croissant or some shit.” Sirius stared at him. “You good, Romeo?”

Remus snorted. “Man’s already planning the wedding and she just hexed his violin.” “Small steps,” Peter muttered. James sighed dreamily. “Yeah. Small steps.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

You didn’t sleep the night before.

Every time you shut your eyes, you saw your younger self staring into the mirror with fingers digging into soft skin, begging it to look different. You remembered the silence in crowded hallways. The ache of always being there, but never chosen. You remembered the words James said, the ones that weren't meant to cut—but found the scar anyway.

So when Professor McGonagall handed you detention with a sigh and an apology in her eyes—parchment copying, of course—you welcomed it. Monotonous. Mind-numbing. Perfect distraction.

But when you got to the classroom early the next morning, head pounding from lack of sleep and soul heavy like wet stone, your desk wasn’t empty. It was stacked.

Neatly. Organized. All two hundred lines already written. Every word in your handwriting. Every letter perfectly charmed to look like it came from your hand. You froze. Stared at it.

Your fingers curled around the parchment. Your eyes lifted. And there he was—James Potter, across the room, watching you like a kicked puppy pretending he didn’t deserve the bruises.

He looked too bright. Too hopeful. Too guilty. Your stomach twisted. You hated that it made your eyes sting again.

Later, when class was over, you walked past him without a word. You dropped the parchment into his lap with the last page folded. Inside, scribbled in black ink:

"Try harder."

You didn’t look back. But he smiled. That stupid, soft smile like you'd just given him an entire galaxy.

That afternoon, you were sitting on the ledge behind the courtyard wall again—the spot nobody noticed unless they were looking. Your knees drawn to your chest, your heart somewhere between furious and numb.

And then… A presence. A familiar rustle of too-long Gryffindor robes and the sound of someone hesitating a few steps away. James Potter.

He didn't speak. Just stood there for a second. Then held something out in his hand. A piece of folded parchment—small, aged, and trembling ever so slightly between his fingers.

You stared at it but didn’t move. His voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. “If you ever want to hide again,” he said, eyes not quite meeting yours, “until you're ready...”

A pause. He didn’t say what it was. Didn’t say how it would help.But it didn’t matter.Because you knew. The damn boy was trying to give you the Marauder’s Map. He was trying to give you the one thing they never gave anyone.

Your fingers twitched. You didn’t take it. But you stared at him. Long. Quiet. Endless. He looked different under the sunlight. His jaw clenched. “I was an idiot.”

You raised a brow, voice hoarse. “You’re still an idiot.” He exhaled a broken laugh. “Yeah. But I’m your idiot. Or—I want to be. Eventually. When you let me.”

You didn’t respond.

He shifted on his feet. Then, quieter, more real: “I thought you were untouchable. I thought… if I made you laugh, if we tore each other to shreds for fun, that meant I could keep you close. And then I used the wrong words and realized…”

He trailed off. Swallowed hard. “I realized you were already bleeding before I ever opened my mouth.”

The silence after that was cruel.You didn't take the parchment. But you didn’t leave either.

He tucked it into your bag anyway. Gently. As if he was afraid he’d break something else.

Then turned and walked away.

And for the first time in weeks, you weren’t sure who was hurting more—you or him.

James walked back to the dorm in silence, his hands trembling slightly, his throat burning. He’d made you laugh a hundred times. He’d seen you shine.nBut that day, in the sunlight, with your pain all but carved into your bones, he realized something devastating. He didn’t just want to fix it. He wanted to be there for it. For all of it.

He wanted to be the reason you smiled in the morning. The arms you could fall apart in. The idiot who stayed even when it got ugly.

He wanted… a life. With you in it. He wanted things he didn’t think he’d ever say out loud.

And just as he was about to spiral fully into a James-style mental breakdown about it, Remus lobbed a pillow at his head. “Before you plan your future wedding and children’s names,” Remus deadpanned, “maybe try just not making her cry again.”

James sighed. “Fuck you. I know that.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

James Potter had done a lot of dumb things in his life. But this? This might top the list.

The wool itched. His fingers cramped. And he was positive he’d stabbed himself with the knitting needles at least thirteen times—but he didn’t stop. Not when Sirius made fun of him, not when Peter tried to help and tangled half the yarn into a hopeless knot, and especially not when Remus muttered under his breath, “You know, flowers are a traditional apology, mate.”

But James wasn’t going for traditional. He wanted to show he was willing to bleed a little. Suffer a bit. Do something ugly and real and not smooth for once.

So he knit you a jumper.

Maroon, because he remembered you once wore it and said it made you feel safe. The letters across the front—“I’m Sorry”—were crooked. Lopsided. One ‘R’ looked like it was trying to escape.

It was hideous. And he was proud of it.

So, of course, he walked into the common room with it in his arms like it was the crown jewels. Students stared. Murmured. Whispered.

You were curled in your usual corner, books scattered around you like a shield, pretending you weren’t waiting for him. But you looked up when his shadow fell across the page.

James held the jumper out with both hands. Like an offering. Like an apology carved into yarn and regret.

His voice barely broke above the chatter. “I made this. For you.” You blinked. Slowly. Then looked at it. Really looked.

The way the letters leaned awkwardly. The loose thread at the sleeve. The stitch in the neckline that looked like it’d unravel the whole thing if you pulled too hard.

And before you could stop yourself, your fingers curled into a fist around your own anger. You stood. Took the jumper. Walked to the nearest bin. And dropped it in.

The room went silent. James didn’t say a word. He didn’t fight. Didn’t beg. Just looked down. Then walked away. His back tense, his head low, the usual bounce in his step long gone. You sat back down like your bones had turned to concrete. Pretended to read. Pretended not to care. Pretended like your throat didn’t burn.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

That night, the tower was quiet. The fire had burned low. Everyone else was asleep.

You stood in front of the bin for a full ten minutes. Arms crossed. Jaw locked. You weren’t even sure what you were waiting for. Permission? Clarity? Something. Eventually, you reached in. Pulled it out.

The wool was soft. He’d actually tried.

You could practically see him stabbing himself with the needles. Tongue sticking out in concentration. Cursing every time a stitch went wrong. You swallowed.

And with a quiet flick of your wand, you straightened the letters. Fixed the loose threads. Tightened the neckline. It still looked ridiculous. But it looked like him. So you folded it. Neatly. And shoved it under your pillow like a secret. Like a confession you weren’t ready to make.

You weren’t ready to forgive him. Not yet. Because this wasn’t just about James. This was about you. About every time you felt like the last choice. About starving yourself just to feel worthy. About screaming into pillows because you hated your body and hated your mind for caring so much.

You weren’t just angry at him. You were angry at every version of yourself that begged to be enough. Was it fair to throw all of that on one stupid boy with messy hair and a heart too big?

No.

But maybe, just maybe, he was willing to carry some of it anyway. You weren’t breaking yet.

But something in you cracked that night. And it whispered, quietly: Maybe he means it.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Maybe James Potter was tired now.

Not just of the grand gestures, or the rejection, or the confusion—but of waiting. Waiting for the world to fall back into place. Waiting for you to look at him the way you used to, even if it was only to glare. Waiting for a moment where he could just breathe near you without it hurting. Still—he hadn’t lost that ridiculous, unkillable determination.

He’d already written five plans in his head before breakfast.

Plan A: Let you punch him square in the jaw and call it even. Plan B: Buy you that overpriced French silk dress you once stared at in a magazine for ten full minutes. Plan C: Cry. Publicly. Plan D: Make Sirius pretend to be dying just so he could dramatically say, “But first, make up with James.”

It was selfish, wanting you after everything. After not listening. After hurting you in ways he hadn’t even understood at the time. But James Potter had always been selfish when it came to you.

He didn’t want almost. He didn’t want eventually. He wanted all of you. The broken parts, the jagged edges, the terrifying, beautiful chaos. And he wanted to be the one who stayed.

He was spiraling over it again, as usual, legs dangling off the edge of the Astronomy Tower, eyes blurry with too much sky and not enough of you— When he heard soft footsteps. Then, silence.

Then... you.

You sat beside him.

Didn’t speak. Didn’t look at him. Just sat, spine straight, hands folded in your lap like it was any other night. Not because you were ready to forgive him. But because you were tired.

So fucking tired of being alone in your head. Sometimes, just sitting beside the person you’re mad at is easier than sitting with your own thoughts. James looked at you. Just—looked.

Like his soul had been drowning and you were the first breath of air. You didn’t even turn your head. “If you don’t stop staring at me like some deranged romance novel idiot, I swear I’ll jump off this tower.”

“Right, right,” he mumbled, turning his gaze dramatically to the moon. “Nothing romantic about the moon. Ugly, lifeless ball.” You huffed. That half-smile tried to sneak up, but you fought it down like a soldier.

James let the quiet stretch a little longer. Then he said—softly, not grand, not loud—just real, “Look, I know you hate me and all. I don’t think you understand what you do to me. You walk into a room and suddenly I’m breathing like I haven’t in years—like my lungs remember what they’re for only because you exist. You smile, and it’s not just sunlight—it’s whole galaxies cracking open inside me, and I swear I’d burn just to keep you warm. I look at you and it’s like the universe finally made sense and said, “Here, this one. She’s the reason.” You could scream, you could shatter, and I’d still hold the pieces like they were sacred. I don’t want some neat little fairytale—I want your chaos, your quiet, your bruised edges and bright mornings. I’d take every storm you’ve ever carried and call it a privilege. You think you’re hard to love, but baby, loving you is the only thing I’ve ever been sure of. I’d ruin myself a thousand times just to hear you laugh without flinching. You don’t need to be anything more than what you already are—because you, just as you are, you’re everything. And I mean that like I mean air. Like I mean survival.”

You didn’t reply for a long time.

Then finally, you exhaled—like you were letting go of something that had been rotting inside you for far too long. “Please don’t say things like that, James. Not when I’ve spent so long teaching myself not to hope. You come in with all this love—too much of it—and part of me wants to fall right into it, let it wrap around me and forget everything that came before. But the rest of me is screaming. I don’t want to be a project you pour yourself into to fix what you broke. I don’t want your heart if it’s just your guilt dressed up in poetry. I’m not some fragile thing to be saved, and I don’t want to be seen as something you owe love to. I’ve spent nights convincing myself that being invisible was safer, because at least then, no one could decide I wasn’t enough. And now you’re here, saying all these beautiful, terrifying things, and I can’t tell if you see me or just the girl you hurt. I want to believe you mean it. I want to let you in. But what if you stop meaning it when the weight of what happened fades? What if I let you matter and then you forget how to hold me when I’m not glowing under your guilt? I can’t survive being seen just long enough for you to feel better. And the worst part? I think I’d still take it. Even if it’s temporary. Even if it ruins me. That’s how much I want this. But wanting isn’t the same as trusting. And right now, I don’t know if I can give you both. And maybe—God, maybe I’m dragging this out, this apology thing, because I like the way you look at me now. I like the attention. I like feeling seen. And I’m scared that the moment I forgive you, you’ll stop looking at me like that. But I can’t say that out loud. My pride’s too loud. My ego won’t let me ask you to stay, to keep seeing me, to not stop. I don’t even know if this makes sense. I just... I don’t know how to trust this. Or you. Or myself.”

The world was quiet. Even the wind dared not move. James Potter, Quidditch star, loudmouth, born showman—he didn’t try to make a joke. Didn’t reach for dramatics. He just smiled. And it wasn’t a smirk, or a grin, or a flirtatious flash. It was soft. Like worship. Like you were a sunrise he had no right to witness but never missed a single morning of. And he finally said something “Then let me say this—really say this, because you need to hear it, every word of it, like it’s the truth carved into the bones of the world:

It was never pity. Not a second of it. Don’t you dare shrink what I feel for you into something so small. I didn’t start caring after what happened—I just got loud about it, finally. I’d been loving you in silence long before the world gave me an excuse to say it out loud. You think I see you now because I’m trying to make up for something? No. I’ve always seen you. You were never invisible to me—not once, not even in the chaos of everything else. You were the constant. You were the steady, quiet hum in the back of my mind, like the world was just a frame for you to move in. I didn’t wake up one day and decide to fall for you out of guilt. I fell for you the way people fall asleep—slowly, then all at once. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you’re frustrated. The way you laugh when you think no one’s listening. The way you argue when you care too much. You made my whole world sharper, better, realer. And it wasn’t because you forgave me, or because I felt bad—it was because you’re you. You’re everything. Not just some placeholder until something easier comes along.

And I get it—you’re scared I’ll stop. That I’ll stop looking at you like you’re the sun cracking through a storm. But love like this doesn’t just fade. It doesn’t wear off like guilt. It burns. It lives. You think I don’t know the risk you’d be taking by trusting me again? I do. And I don’t expect you to dive in without fear—but I’ll be here, every damn day, proving to you that this isn’t obligation. It’s not guilt. It’s worship. And you want to talk about violin music? That horrible mess I tried to play for you? That wasn’t the first time I thought of you like a song—it’s just the first time I dared to try. Because when I look at you, it’s not silence. It’s symphony. It’s this soft, aching melody the world plays just for me when you walk into a room. And no one else hears it. Just me. You said you don’t know how to trust this. Or me. Or yourself. And that’s okay. I’ll be here while you figure it out. I’ll wait. I’ll keep seeing you. Really seeing you. Not just as something beautiful—but as something irreplaceable. You’ve always been more than enough. You don’t even have to try.” You didn’t say anything. Didn’t kiss him. Didn’t touch him. But you looked at him—really looked. And for the first time, you didn’t flinch from how he looked back. Like you were the only girl in the world. Like he’d known it forever.

You stayed in the Astronomy Tower longer than expected.

After his confession, after the way James bared his heart like he didn’t care how much of a fool he looked, silence settled between you again. But this time, it wasn’t heavy. It was soft. Like a blanket you could crawl under, finally warm.

He glanced at you sideways, still hesitant—still unsure if that emotional striptease had been enough. Then came his voice, a little hoarse, a little vulnerable.

“What can I do to make this right? For you to give us a chance?”

And you tilted your head slowly toward him, a deceptively sweet smile curving your lips. The kind that meant you were about to be a menace.

“Admit, publicly, that Severus Snape is better than you.” James choked. Literally. The boy went pale, like you’d asked him to snog Filch or shave his head bald.

“Come again?” You leaned closer, innocently batting your lashes. “Louder this time. So the whole school can hear.”

“Oh hell no.” His voice cracked into a squeak. He looked genuinely betrayed, like you’d just kicked his Firebolt and insulted his mum.

You only shrugged, still grinning, and didn’t say another word. He stared at you like you had just announced your plan to marry a Blast-Ended Skrewt. But the challenge had been issued—and he’d heard it loud and clear.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Next morning at breakfast.

The Gryffindor table was as loud as ever—toast flying, owls dropping packages, Sirius balancing arguing with Lily over something. . Normal chaos. Until James Potter stood up.

The entire table paused mid-chew, forks halfway to mouths. Even the Hufflepuffs looked over. He cleared his throat and announced, very seriously:

“I, James Fleamont Potter, publicly declare that Severus Snape is a better wizard than me.”

Audible gasps. One girl dropped her pumpkin juice. But James wasn’t done. No—he sold it.

“In every way. His hair is shinier. His spells are stronger. He... he has depth.” He sounded like he was reading his own eulogy. Like each word carved a new piece out of his pride. His soul practically levitated out of his body in protest.

Across the hall, Sirius dropped his toast, jaw hanging open. “You traitor! You swore an oath—” Remus spat out his tea. Peter was half-under the table from laughter.

And you? You were just standing there, arms folded, laughing. That laugh—the one James always secretly adored. The one that made him feel like he'd done something right in the world. Because it wasn’t about Snape. Not really.

It was about being seen. Not as a second choice. Not as the invisible one. For once, you were standing there, centre of attention, without shame. Finally being seen by the right person. Maybe you didn’t feel this years ago because fate had a sick sense of humor. Because it was waiting for James to grow the fuck up. And maybe, just maybe... it was worth the wait.

He came toward you, face beet-red, Sirius hissing “traitor” in the background. He stopped right in front of you, running a hand through his already tragic hair. You didn’t say anything.

You just kissed his cheek. It was quick. But it was everything. James froze. Red. Redder. Red as a goddamn Gryffindor tie. Hell, you were surprised he didn’t combust.

And for a moment, all the noise in the Great Hall vanished. Because maybe you weren’t “pretty” in the textbook sense—maybe your skirt wasn’t perfectly pressed, maybe your eyeliner smudged at the corners, and maybe your laugh was too loud, too sharp.

But fuck beauty standards.

You were hot. You were confident. You were yours. And James Potter?He was a dumbass. But he was your dumbass now.

#james potter #james potter x reader #the marauders #the marauders x reader #james potter fanfiction #the marauders fanfiction #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #harry potter fanfiction

302 notes · View notes

lionizingheathen · 8 months ago

Text

Masterlist By Character - Updated 8.21.24

I DO TAKE REQUESTS

Draco Malfoy

Miscommunication

Edging Sub!Draco after you catch him flirting with someone else in public

Precious

Draco finding release after a day in the office

Request

"Domdraco smut please??? I mean maybe with handcuffs and some kinks?"

Ginny Weasley

Take It Out On Me

Helping Ginny unwind from a stressful quidditch practice

Ron Weasley

Take it

"Are you sure you can handle it, baby?" Ron visiting his long distance girlfriend

Request

Hey, can you do an scenario with you and Ron Weasley under a blanket around your friends watching a movie and Ron decides to finger you quietly without anyone knowing?

Sirius Black

Quickly Now

Sirius hooking up with his best friend

Prove It

Sirius eating out his FWB

Just for You

Giving Sirius a handjob in front of friend

Request

"I really need jealous fwb Sirius after that last fic, I NEED it"

Request

"hey im new to your blog but I LOVE the way you write sirius, could we have more sirius content pLEAES (soft, dark, fluff, smut, ANYTHING you can give us pleaseee🥺🥺🥺)"

Request

"Anything with FWB!Sirius Black PLEASE!"

Request

"This is my first time making a request but can you do more of fwb Sirius x reader pleaseee I love your writing btw!! Thank youu"

Hermione Granger

Quietly

Fucking Hermione in the stacks of the library

Lily Evans

Roses

Eating Lily Evans out

Relax

Strapwarming Lily Evans

James Potter

Everything

Making boyfriend James Potter be rough with you for the first time

Think About It

Giving James a blowjob

Request

"james potter smut!! i love ur writing sm"

Request

"Please I need to see you writing something with dbf!James Potter (I would be so happy if you add some size kink too)"

Request

jealous fwb sirius but what about jealous fwb james???

Request

"love ur writing!! can I request riding james potter plssss"

Remus Lupin

We Always Have Time

Remus taking you against a wall

Agreement

Giving your flatmate, Remus Lupin a blowjob to help him relax

Request

"can you do a part 2 from Flatmate!Remus Lupin? Thank you <3"

Request

"Angsty request. Post! James and Lily’s death, reader/oc was Sirius’s girlfriend/fiancé but feels lost after his arrest. All she has left is Remus and they… uh… work off post-war stress with each other."

Regulus Black

Request

"you are the best smut writer i’ve ever come across im literally speechless. can you write more about sirius fwb or maybe even regulus i will take anything you write omg."

Pansy Parkinson

You've Earned it

Sub!Pansy Parkinson x DomFem!Reader

Harry James Potter

Request

"if you write for harry potter can you do harry potter smut? i love your fics :)"

Request

"umm face riding with harry?? pleaseee"

Luna Lovegood

Love me

First time sleeping with Luna Lovegood

Group

Request

"OK NOW I CANT STOP THINKING OF REMUS ACTUALLY LETTING SIRIUS (plus james maybe) HAVE A GO WHILE WATCHING HHHNGGGF??!??"

1K notes · View notes

neverthatsirius-jo · 4 months ago

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november recs <3

— bucky barnes.

cold libraries create warmer hearts by @elvenrin

↳ fic a bit on the longer side (which i love <3) writing this is reminding me that part two is already up and i haven’t read it yet. librarian!reader x history major!bucky. cute, cute fic and steve’s and natasha’s appearances are the best ofc

— james potter.

unrequited, terrifying series by @aurynsia

↳ only read the first two chapters but i really wanna continue the series since it was a really sweet secret admirer!james fic <3

sunlight by @sun-kissy

↳ love a good friend to lovers confession moment and who better to execute that than san?? perfection <33

overheard that she was nineteen by @g1rld1ary

↳ this is for the people that somehow end up crying on every birthday. comfort fic <3

our names in the paper by @g1rld1ary

↳ do yourself a favour and read this, and then go on gia’s blog and read everything she writes cause she’s just that amazing, yk. 10k words of early 2000s romcom vibes and the best dialogues ever. witty and will have you giggling and kicking your feet.

i hate you series by @dreamingofmarauders

↳ haven’t read all of it but cute enemies to lovers james x reader <3

epiphanies over hotpot by @foodiegoogie

↳ loveliest fic written by none other than my twin rese! :D (established relationship <3)

— joel miller.

clay pigeons by @siriuslylantsov

↳ lovely fic, written by a lovely person. hadn’t read any joel fics in a while and him in this one is just 🤌

— matt murdock.

staring right through me by @elixirfromthestars

↳ went through a matt phase and this fic was perfect. go give mel’s blog a look especially if you like reading bucky fics!! <3

— remus lupin.

untitled by @iamgonnagetyouback

↳ honestly this was a very sweet fic and it stole more than a couple smiles from me <33

untitled by @siriuslylantsov

↳ will leave you wanting to take care of remus after a full moon. lovely <33

— sirius black.

bags series by @777heavengirl

↳ so silly of you if you like sirius black and you haven’t read this series yet!! friends to lovers, what more can you ask for? writing is top notch too <3

haircare routine by @siriuslylantsov

↳ pretty sure this was the first fic i read from ace and it had me GIGGLING. cutest thing <3

— spencer reid.

olive theory by @siriuslylantsov

↳ cute little short blurb <3

september rain by @parfaitblogs

↳ has there ever been or is there ever gonna be a jo’s recs without lia on it? well, probably not. cute comfort fic about spencer comforting reader when there’s a storm.

making the bed by @parfaitblogs

↳ another comfort fic with lia’s gorgeous writing <3

kissing in the rain by @catssluvr

↳ cutest fic about well... what the title says. it will leave you with the unquenchable need to dance with spencer under the rain.

slow it down by @reidmania

↳ this fic was the comfort i needed back in november at the stage i was 😭. 100% recomend, the writing is beautiful.

untitled by @parfaitblogs

↳ for some reason it took me the longest while to finally read this fic. forensic scientist!reader and a great fic, but again, read all of lia’s works. or else.

north star by @parfaitblogs

↳ comforting spencer after a nightmare fic <3

state of grace by @parfaitblogs

↳ genuinely loved this one so much. friends with benefits and a bit of avoidant!reader. lia, i love your dialogues. i think i’ve said that a thousand times <3

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#[🍓] ; jo’s monthly recs ── ◡̈#bucky barnes x reader #james potter x reader #joel miller x reader #matt murdock x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #spencer reid x reader #fic recs

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starksweasley · 4 months ago

Text

Throwing Books // James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Reader, Platonic! Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: In which both you and James have been too stressed and you finally break (angst, fluff)

Word Count: 1734

The library was suffocating. Your textbooks loomed in front of you, the words blurring into an incomprehensible haze. Normally, you’d find solace here—a quiet corner to focus and drown out the chaos of Hogwarts. But tonight, the silence pressed down on you, amplifying your frustration. And then there was James.

The fight from earlier replayed in your mind like a broken record. He’d yelled, you’d yelled louder, and then you’d thrown a book. A bloody book. It hadn’t even been a small one; the thud it made as it hit the floor echoed through the common room, silencing everyone. Sirius’s jaw had dropped, Peter’s eyes had widened, and Remus—sweet, patient Remus—had been the one to step in, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you away before you could hurl something else.

“What the hell was that?” he’d hissed, his golden-brown eyes wide with disbelief as he pulled you into the empty corridor.

“He started it!” you’d snapped, your voice cracking under the weight of unshed tears. Frustration bubbled beneath your skin, making your hands tremble.

“And you finished it by nearly taking his head off with a Charms textbook? Brilliant plan,” Remus had replied, his sarcasm biting but oddly comforting. He placed a steadying hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly in a soothing motion. “Come on,” he said, his voice softening when he noticed your trembling form. “Let’s cool off.”

You hesitated, looking back towards the common room, your anger still simmering just beneath the surface. “He doesn’t understand, Remus. He doesn’t care about how hard everything feels right now.”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” Remus countered gently, his calm voice a stark contrast to your stormy emotions. “He cares too much. That’s why you’re both at each other’s throats. You’re both stubborn as hell, and it’s exhausting watching you two try to out-angst each other.” His lips quirked into a faint smile, a touch of warmth softening his words.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “That doesn’t mean he gets to yell at me like that.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Remus agreed, his expression growing serious. “But you didn’t exactly take the high road either. Chucking a brick of a textbook at him? Really?”

“It was within reach,” you muttered, looking away as a blush crept up your cheeks.

Remus chuckled softly, the sound almost affectionate. “You’re impossible, you know that?” He placed a steadying hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding. “Come on. Let’s walk. You need to cool off before you destroy the entire Gryffindor common room.”

He tugged you down the corridor, his calm presence easing some of the tension knotting your chest. As you walked, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re both just stressed and taking it out on each other. He misses you, you know.”

Your steps faltered slightly, but you caught yourself. “He has a funny way of showing it.”

Remus sighed, his tone patient. “James Potter isn’t exactly the poster child for emotional intelligence. But he’s trying. And so are you. Maybe meet him halfway?”

You allowed yourself to be led away, the adrenaline fading and leaving behind only exhaustion and a faint twinge of guilt.

Now, hours later, you sat in the library, staring blankly at your notes. The fight had drained you, left a hollow ache in your chest that no amount of studying could fill. James hadn’t come after you, and that hurt more than you cared to admit. You were both busy, sure—you with school, him with Quidditch—but you’d always found time for each other. Until now.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, slamming your book shut. The noise earned a sharp glare from Madam Pince, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t sit here another second, not when the thought of James out on the pitch, still angry, gnawed at you.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you grabbed your things and bolted from the library. The air was crisp as you stepped outside, the distant glow of the Quidditch pitch guiding your steps. The sounds of late-night drills reached you before the sight of him did—the thwack of a Bludger, the whistle of wind as brooms cut through the air. And then there he was.

James flew with a kind of reckless grace, his hair a wild mess, his face flushed from exertion. He didn’t see you at first, too focused on chasing the Quaffle. You hesitated, watching him for a moment longer. Even now, angry and hurt, you couldn’t help but think he looked… incredible.

Steeling yourself, you reached into your bag and grabbed the first thing your hand landed on: another book. With a determined throw, you sent it sailing into the air, straight into his line of vision.

“Oi!” he shouted, swerving to avoid it. He caught sight of you as the book tumbled to the ground. “What is it with you and throwing books at me lately?”

You shrugged, your heart pounding as he descended. “They get your attention, don’t they?”

He landed with a thud, his broom clattering to the ground. “You’re mad, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your voice quieter now. “But so are you.”

James’s face softened, though his eyes still held a spark of irritation. He approached slowly, his broom abandoned behind him, until he was just a step away. “What do you want, love?” he asked, his tone weary. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”

“You think it hasn’t been for me?” The words came out sharper than you intended, your frustration bubbling to the surface again. You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “I hate fighting with you, James. I hate this. It’s… exhausting.”

His sigh was long and heavy, and he ran a hand through his hair, messing it further. “Yeah, well, maybe you should think about that before you start chucking books.” Despite the edge in his tone, his lips twitched like he was trying to suppress a smile.

“Don’t put this all on me,” you shot back, the anger simmering in your chest. “You yelled first!”

“Because you’ve been avoiding me for weeks!” he snapped, his voice rising as he stepped closer. “Do you know how bloody frustrating it is to feel like you don’t have time for me anymore? Like I’m not important to you?”

“I’m drowning in schoolwork, James! What do you want me to do? Drop everything and watch you play Quidditch?” Your voice wavered, and you hated how vulnerable it made you sound.

“I just want you to talk to me!” he shouted, the words bursting out before he could stop them. His voice cracked on the last word, and he dropped his gaze to the ground, the anger in his posture giving way to something softer, something raw. “I… I miss you.”

The confession hung in the air between you, heavy and unguarded. His hand fidgeted at his side, as if he was unsure whether to reach for you. You stared at him, your chest tightening as his words sank in.

“James…” you began, but your voice faltered. You bit your lip, the frustration and sadness from the past weeks rising like a tide.

“You’re my person,” he continued, quieter now, his voice almost breaking. “And not talking to you, even for a day, it’s awful. I hate it.” His hazel eyes met yours, full of the vulnerability he rarely let anyone see.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away. “Me too,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I’m sorry. For avoiding you, for the fight, for everything. You’re important to me, James. You always have been.”

His shoulders sagged with relief, and he took another step closer, until he was right in front of you. “Are we okay?” he prompted softly, his voice gentle but his gaze searching, almost pleading.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your movements quick and almost desperate. Your arms looped tightly around his neck, yanking him down as you pressed your lips to his. It wasn’t a gentle kiss—it was fervent, an outpouring of every emotion that had bubbled under your skin all day. Anger, frustration, longing—they all coalesced in that moment. He froze for a half-second, his breath hitching against your lips, before melting into the kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the tension in his grip, like he was afraid to let go. The faint taste of salt and the lingering warmth of his exertion made your head spin, and the world around you seemed to dissolve into nothing but him.

When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm on your skin. “You’re insane,” he murmured, though his lips curved into a small smile.

“Takes one to know one,” you replied, a watery laugh escaping you. You felt your chest lighten, but your mind was still racing. Glancing at the book you had thrown earlier, now resting abandoned on the ground, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“You’d think with all the books I’ve chucked at you today, I’d be the one to apologize to Madam Pince for ruining library property,” you said, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

He laughed, a sound that warmed you from the inside out. “I think she’d sooner ban you for life than let you borrow another one,” he teased, his arms still secure around you. “But you do owe me a new Charms book, by the way.”

“Oh, do I?” you quipped, arching a brow.

“Definitely,” he replied, his grin widening. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But maybe I’ll let it slide if you promise not to avoid me again.”

You smiled, your fingers idly playing with the collar of his Quidditch jersey. “Deal,” you murmured, the word carrying more weight than a simple agreement.

As the night settled around you, James finally pulled back, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You know,” he started, his tone light, “this whole book-throwing thing? Kind of impressive. But if you’re ever mad at me again, maybe try not aiming at my head.”

You laughed, the sound clear and unburdened. “Noted, Potter. Noted.”

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deatheaterv · 5 months ago

Text

FIRST LOVE

pairing : harry potter x weasley!fem!reader

genre : fluff

summary : harry potter has always noticed you, ron’s younger sister, but it’s only as time passes that he starts to develop feelings for you. determined to get closer, harry finds himself struggling, especially with other boys always around you.

harry didn’t believe in love at first sight. it was an idea that felt too dreamy, too far removed from his reality. but that was before he met you.

the first time harry noticed you wasn’t in any dramatic moment. it was simple, really. on the train to hogwarts, he’d just been looking out the window, lost in his own thoughts, when he noticed you sitting with ginny, laughing at something that had been said. the sound of your laughter caught his attention before anything else. you were warm, glowing, and there was an ease to the way you carried yourself that made harry’s heart beat a little faster.

he didn’t think much of it at first. after all, you were ron’s younger sister, and they were all just getting to know each other. but over time, his feelings grew.

it wasn’t just the way you smiled or the way your hair caught the light. it was how kind you were to everyone around you, how you made others feel seen and heard. harry found himself noticing the little things. like how you always had time to help someone with their homework or how you would slip off to the library when you needed a quiet moment, always finding the perfect books to recommend to others.

and it made harry realize just how special you were. how different you were from anyone else he’d met.

but how could he get close to you? how could he, the boy who was always in the shadow of his own fame and the weight of his destiny, break through the wall that seemed to exist between them?

so, harry did what he always did. he watched. he’d find himself sneaking peeks at you, listening to your conversations with ginny or luna, just wanting to understand you better. but every time he tried to speak to you, the words seemed to slip away. it was never the right time. there was always someone else there.

he began to ask ron more questions, though not directly. he'd bring up random things like how his sister was doing in classes, or if you had any big plans for the holidays, always steering the conversation back to you.

ron noticed. "why do you always ask about her?" he asked one evening, his tone a bit suspicious.

"i’m just curious," harry said quickly, but the blush creeping up his neck gave him away. "you know, y/n's really smart. i was just wondering how she does so well in everything."

ron, ever oblivious, shrugged. "she’s always been like that. don’t know how she manages it. but don’t get your hopes up, mate, she’s got plenty of blokes around her."

harry hadn’t really considered that. the idea of other boys showing interest in you made something in his chest tighten. he wasn’t sure what it was, but it made him uneasy. he tried to push it aside, telling himself that he wasn’t the jealous type. but the more he saw you with other guys, michael corner, dean thomas, even lee jordan, the more that tightness in his chest grew.

it was stupid. he was harry potter, the chosen one. why did this feel so difficult?

one day, harry pulled out the marauder’s map and quietly followed you, careful not to be noticed. he wasn’t stalking you. well, maybe just a little. but he was trying to figure out where you went when you had time to yourself. maybe then, when you were alone, he could finally find the courage to speak to you.

he checked the map. you were in the great hall, sitting with the weasleys for dinner. harry’s heart skipped a beat.

he made his way there, trying to keep his steps quiet, hoping you wouldn’t notice him. but as he entered, he immediately spotted you. sitting with ginny, fred, george, and ron, laughing over something, her face glowing in the warm light. harry couldn’t help it. he found himself smiling. in fact, he was so lost in watching you that he didn’t notice ron glaring at him from the other side of the table.

"mate," ron’s voice suddenly cut through his daydream, "what are you doing?"

harry blinked and quickly wiped the goofy smile off his face. "what? nothing."

ron raised an eyebrow, glancing at you across the table. "you’re staring at my sister. again."

"no, i’m not," harry quickly muttered, avoiding eye contact. but it was too late. ron had already noticed.

"you’ve been doing that all evening," ron continued, his tone half teasing, half annoyed. "just... stop it. it’s creepy."

harry flushed, suddenly embarrassed. "i wasn’t... i didn’t mean to..." his voice trailed off. he had no idea how to explain why he was so interested in you without sounding like a fool.

ron just rolled his eyes. "she’s got a lot of attention already, harry. you know that. and she’s not interested in you like that, so don’t get your hopes up."

harry’s heart sank. "i wasn’t. i’m just... i just wanted to know how she’s doing. as a friend."

ron gave him a long look, his expression unreadable. "yeah, sure," he said with a shrug, returning to his food. but harry could tell that ron didn’t quite believe him.

a few weeks later, harry was invited to the burrow for the holidays, and after a day spent helping mrs. weasley in the kitchen, harry found himself wandering upstairs to your room. he knocked softly at the door.

"come in," you told him to, from the inside.

harry pushed the door open, his heart thumping as he saw you sitting by the window, a book in your hands. you looked up and smiled when you saw him. "hey, harry. what’s up?"

"just thought I’d come see how you were doing," harry said with a casual shrug, walking in and sitting on the edge of your bed.

"doing good," you replied, placing your book down. "busy with all the holiday stuff."

they started chatting, mostly small talk at first. it was easy. harry felt like he could just be himself around you. your presence was calming, like nothing else mattered when they were together.

as their conversation went on, harry found his gaze drifting to your lips. he didn’t want to rush things, but it felt like the moment was right. without thinking, he leaned in, his breath mingling with hers. you didn’t pull away.

the kiss was slow, gentle, the tension between them building. harry’s hand gently cupped your face as he deepened the kiss. he could feel your hands on his chest, pulling him closer. it was everything he had imagined and more.

but before either of them could process what was happening, the door flew open.

"blimey, harry," fred exclaimed, poking his head in, followed by george, both wearing mischievous grins. "we leave you alone for five minutes, and.."

"you two are unbelievable," george added, shaking his head.

harry and you pulled away quickly, both flushed and trying to hide their smiles. "you’re not supposed to be here!" you protested, laughing nervously.

fred and george just laughed, exchanging glances. "oh, we know," fred said. "but it’s too funny to miss."

harry’s face went red, and you laughed, your eyes sparkling with amusement. it wasn’t exactly how he had imagined their first kiss, but at least he had finally made it happen.

and maybe, just maybe, it was worth the wait.

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milunalupin · 7 months ago

Text

— someone you loved

regulus black x potter!reader ★ 1k words

You had lost yet another game of Exploding Snap to your older brother, who always celebrated by throwing the cards like confetti all over the living room and telling you to clean up. He'd never admit it, but you knew he would charm only your cards to explode.

"You're a prat, you know that Jamie?" you huffed as he ignored you and skipped up to his room, leaving you to crawl around to clean up his mess. Most nights were spent like this during the summer between terms, with either yours or your brother's friends joining you regularly.

As you were picking up the last card, a cloud of green smoke blew from the fireplace, Sirius Black landing onto the carpet. You would of thought he was dead if it wasn't for his twitching body gasping for air. You stood on shaky legs as you screamed for your brother, eyes unable to leave the bleeding body before you.

In seconds James was down the stairs, pushing you out of the way to get to his best friend, shaking his bruised shoulder with tears in his eyes. Your parents come down just after him, your mother helping tend to Sirius while your father went into the kitchen to make the boy something to eat.

Your blurred vision went back to the fireplace. You knew what went on at 12 Grimmauld Place, James and Sirius had told you. He had told you, in nonchalance as if it was something that happened in every family. The abuse, both verbal and physical. The constant pressure to live up to the impossible expectations of The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.

"Y/N what are you doing, help him!" your brother screamed at you, his voice raw from crying as he held Sirius' head in his lap, his own hot tears running down his pale face.

"Where's Regulus?"

James stared at you in bewilderment. How could you think of Regulus when his best friend could be dying in his arms right now? His eyes shot back down as Sirius whimpered in pain as his mother applied a healing tonic to a particularly sensitive area on his leg.

"Sirius, where's Regulus?" your voice came out desperate, taking cautious steps towards the elder Black.

"Are you stupid Y/N? Sirius needs help!"

Your mother quietly scolds him as you held the older Black's gaze. His sad eyes told you everything you needed to know. Regulus Black was not coming to Godric's Hollow that night.

The start of fourth year was different. Sirius had moved into your house, so he and your brother were closer than ever. There was a time that the two of you were just as close as James and Sirius, when it was easier to sneak to the furthest corner of the library to do each other's homework and share poetry. You were each other's best friends, and a much needed escape from your siblings. Some days it even felt there was more than friendship between the two of you. But Regulus has begun distancing himself over the past few years, and now it was like he never existed.

Something terrible had happened that night. Regulus won't dare look over at you, and James had even forbidden you from speaking of him, especially whenever Sirius was around. No one was telling you anything and it was starting to get on your nerves.

The annual sorting ceremony had come to an end, everyone digging into the delicious feast the elves had prepared. You however, could only push the food around your plate as you stared at the Slytherin table, your brows pinched together. You had noticed that they had begun missing classes as a group, slowly pulling away from the rest of the students. As soon as you saw your old friend get up and walk out of the Great Hall, you too dismissed yourself from the table and rushed to follow him.

He must've known you were trying to speak to him, picking up the pace and making quick turns into empty corridors. You huffed and hurried to catch up, finally reaching him and tugging on the sleeve of his robe so he'd turn around. Although you two were no longer in contact, Regulus had never acted negatively towards you in class, which gave you hope that at least a friendship was still possible.

"Reggie, hey."

His eyes narrowed at you, his fists tightening around the strap of his bookbag. You sigh, tongue in cheek as you looked him over.

"I just want to understand what's going on Regulus, you know you can trust me."

"Trust you? You left me when I needed you the most, you and Sirius. I don't know what I went thinking when we met on the train years ago, keeping you close. Sirius was always better in every way, I know that. I'll never be enough for him, for my family, for you... and I'm tired. But I can't just live on being his replacement, second best. I can prove I am worthy of more, and I can't do that with people like you hanging around."

"Reg, you've never been second best to me. Can we please just have a civil conversation about this? You're my best friend and I love–"

"Sod off, Potter." he spat. "And Salazar, stop with the tears, you're not a child. I don't want anything to do with you, try to get that through your thick skull."

"Fuck you Regulus Black."

You turned and left for your room, your eyes stinging as you pressed the heel of your palms into them, trying to stop the tears from escaping. No amount of curses and hexes could hurt him as much as it did you watch you cry because of him and walk away for the last time.

Once in the privacy of his own room, Regulus curled up in bed with hot tears running down his face. The moving picture of you two in first year stayed tucked into his pillowcase where it's always been, because nothing could keep his nightmares away but you.

#marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #regulus black #regulus x reader #regulus black x reader #sirius black #james potter

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ultravioletbrit · 9 months ago

Text

“flawed” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 498 words

“Go away.” Regulus tells James when he sits down across from him in the library.

“Not yet, I have an argument for you.” James says simply.

Regulus doesn’t even look up, so James continues.

“I think that you should like me.” He informs Regulus.

Regulus huffs a laugh, “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“Well, Regulus, I’m glad you asked.” James takes out a piece of parchment, clears his throat and begins reading.

“Reasons Regulus Black should fancy James Potter.” Regulus furrows his eyebrows but says nothing, so James begins to read his list.

“One, I’m brave. Obviously, seeing as I’m risking being hexed the longer I sit here.”

Regulus gives him an expression that confirms the potential hexing.

“Two, we’re complete opposites, which sounds like a bad thing, but it’s not. You’re elegant and understated and sophisticated, while I’m loud and rambunctious and a nuisance. So, we balance each other out. That whole opposites attract thing and whatnot.”

Regulus raises one eyebrow with an unimpressed look.

“Three, I’m fiercely loyal to my friends and the people I love. And while you may think my friends are also nuisances, I do think you understand that loyalty because you’re the same way with you friends. And I think that’s an important thing we have in common.”

Regulus now has an unreadable expression.

“Four… I’m kind of cute.” James says with big eyes and the cutest voice he can manage. “I mean… you think I’m at least a little cute, right?” James looks at Regulus with a shy, hopeful smile. Regulus gives him a blank stare in return.

James takes a deep breath to steady himself, he wants to finish strong.

“Lastly,” James gets completely serious and sincere, “I really, really like you. And I know I can be ridiculous and obnoxious and over the top about it. But sometimes when I’m nervous it’s easier for me to overcompensate rather than be vulnerable with my feelings. And I get really nervous to be vulnerable around you because… I really like you. But everything I’ve said to you has always been the truth. And if you give me a chance, I think you might really like me too… maybe.” James finished in a whisper, admittedly not the strong finish he’d hoped for.

Regulus says nothing, just packs up his books and stands to leave. James deflates instantly.

Regulus stops beside James on his way out, “Nice speech, but your original argument was flawed.” James drops his head and sighs in defeat, but Regulus continues, “I already like you. Come back to me when you have a list of reasons I should let you take me on a date.”

James’ head snaps up to look at Regulus, but he’s already walking out of the library. James sits dumbfounded for several minutes before he processes what just happened. Once he does, he smiles the biggest smile he probably ever has and grabs a piece of parchment and starts writing…

“Reasons Regulus Black should go on a date with James Potter.”

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sundrop-writes · 7 months ago

Text

The Restricted Section

Hermione Granger x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader x Harry Potter

Summary:

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

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

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

Word Count: 4,400

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

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

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

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

...

Harry really didn’t understand Hermione sometimes.

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

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

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

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

Harry wasn’t going to apologise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Hermione.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy fuck.

Holy… fuck.

It was you.

You and Hermione. Hermione and you.

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

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

She was finger-fucking your pussy.

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

Harry was in utter shock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Mione-”

“No, darling. Wrong again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry’s head was spinning.

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

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

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

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

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

He was sorely disappointed by what happened next.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some things are just nature.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Mistress.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

#sundrop writes #harry potter fanfiction #hermione granger x reader #hermione granger smut #hermione granger x fem!reader #hermione granger x you #hermione granger x y/n #hermione granger fanfiction #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter smut #harry potter x reader #hjp x reader

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junezsq · 24 days ago

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so obvious

harry james potter x fem!reader

summary: hermione has always been smart, but you never would’ve thought she’d so quickly figure out who you have a crush on… or were you just being really obvious?

warnings: none!

word count: 1.2k

a/n: p2 of my short 3 part yule ball series!!! i’m so excited to get to the last part you guys have no idea what’s in store xx

── ᵎᵎ ✦

you had always found peace in the hogwarts library, the steady hum of distant whispers and the comforting scent of old parchment enveloping you. the warmth of the room was a stark contrast to the chilly late autumn evening outside, and you couldn’t help but appreciate the cozy atmosphere as you sat hunched over your history of magic essay.

hermione was beside you, quill flying across her paper, writing faster than you could keep up. you had always admired her dedication to getting everything perfect, but tonight, your mind kept wandering. the yule ball was fast approaching, and while everyone else seemed to be preparing for it, you hadn’t given it much thought. that is, until now.

you glanced up from your parchment for a moment, catching sight of harry at a nearby table with ron. the redheads face was scrunched up in confusion as he scanned through a pile of books, while harry was bent over his own work, furrowing his brow, the mess of his hair falling even more haphazardly into his eyes. you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. it was silly, really, but your heart did a little flip in your chest every time you saw him.

hermione’s quill paused as she sensed your distraction. she glanced up from her essay, a knowing look in her eyes. “you’re thinking about something else, aren’t you?”

you blinked, pulling your thoughts back to your paper. “what? no, I’m not.”

“you’re not fooling me, you know.” she raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not buying your response.

“alright, you got me” you let out a small, nervous laugh, fiddling with your quill. eventually you quickly scribbled something about the goblin rebellions; at least you’d gotten something done. hermione raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it. instead, she focused back on her own work, though the flicker of curiosity in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

after another moment of silence, you decided to break it. “so," you began casually, tapping your quill against the edge of your parchment, "have you got a date for the yule ball yet?"

hermione paused, her quill hovering over her paper as her gaze flickered toward you. you tried to keep your expression neutral, but the question seemed to make your heart race just a little bit faster. you were fully aware that the yule ball was approaching, and with it, all sorts of questions about who would be attending with whom. you had yet to ask anyone, not that you really had the courage to. hermione, however, seemed unusually quiet at the question. you glanced up at her, surprised to see a faint flush on her cheeks.

"well," her voice was soft and unsure. "i’ve been thinking about it…” she sighed, tapping her quill against her paper. “i don’t know. i haven’t decided yet.” she gave you a playful look. “you’d think i’d have someone in mind by now, but…”

you leaned in, eager for any hint of gossip. “but... what?”

she shrugged, her cheeks tinged pink. “it’s just… complicated. i don’t really know what to do about it.”

“complicated how?”

hermione bit her lip, clearly avoiding a direct answer. “it’s nothing,” she muttered. “i’ll figure it out.”

you smirked, not letting her off the hook so easily. “come on, you can’t just leave me hanging like that. who are we talking about? is it someone i know?”

she shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with how much you were pressing her. “i don’t know. maybe it’s not worth thinking about right now,” she said, but you could tell by the way she was avoiding your gaze that she was hiding something.

“well, I’m not going to stop asking until you tell me.”

hermione smirked, shaking her head. "i’m not telling you unless you tell me about your date first."

your smile faltered, and you quickly tried to divert the conversation. "i — i don’t have one yet" you admitted, your heart skipping a beat as you glanced toward harry again, who was now arguing with ron about some part of the essay.

"i bet you do," hermione pressed, her grin widening. "you’ve been eyeing someone for weeks now."

your face went hot, and you scrambled to find words. "i — i’m not eyeing anyone! i’m just—" you stopped yourself before you said something too embarrassing.

"come on. you can tell me. who’s got your attention?" hermione’s eyes sparkled with mischief, her voice soft but teasing.

you opened your mouth, then closed it again, your thoughts a whirlwind. it was harry, of course. he was the one you were always looking at, the one whose smile could make your heart flutter. but you couldn’t just say that out loud, could you? not when it felt like a secret that was yours and yours alone. especially since you were such close friends, and you couldn’t mess that up.

before you could answer, there was a sudden loud noise; harry, having knocked over a stack of books, was frantically trying to gather them up, and you couldn’t help but laugh, "smooth, harry," you muttered, barely holding in your giggles.

hermione giggled, too, and for a moment, the tension of the conversation melted away. "he’s definitely not the most graceful, is he?" she remarked, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"no," you agreed, unable to suppress your grin. "but it’s... part of his charm, i suppose."

hermione smirked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "well, if you’re not going to ask him to the ball, maybe i should."

you froze, staring at her in horror. "what?"

she burst into laughter, and you quickly realized she was just teasing you. still, you couldn’t shake the heat rising to your cheeks. "i’m only joking," hermione said between giggles, "you like him, don’t you?”

you felt your face heat up instantly. “what? no! i mean, maybe — no, i don’t—” you fumbled over your words, flustered beyond belief.

hermione raised both eyebrows, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “oh, you definitely do. it’s so obvious.”

“you’re impossible.”

“you just need to be brave enough to ask him.” hermione shrugged, clearly not letting you off the hook that easily.

your stomach twisted at the thought. "yeah, right. like i could ever do that."

"you never know unless you try."

you shot her a look, shaking your head. "you’re terrible."

“i’m just giving you some friendly advice.” she grinned. “now, let’s get back to this essay. but... if you do decide to ask harry to the ball, I’m happy to help you practice.”

you sighed dramatically, but secretly, a smile tugged at your lips. hermione’s teasing was both comforting and utterly terrifying. but no matter how much you tried to ignore it, the thought of harry — and the yule ball — lingered in your mind.

as the two of you got back to work, the library’s peaceful ambiance returned, but something had shifted. it was no longer just about finishing the essay. it was about what might come next — what might happen at the yule ball. and maybe, just maybe, you’d find the courage to ask harry. but for now, you were content to sit here, with your friends, in the quiet of the library.

and who knew? maybe this year’s yule ball would turn out to be a lot more interesting than you ever imagined.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

SOUNDTRACK // must be love, niall horan

TAGLIST // @callsigncrushx @moonjellyfishie @pussyslayerhd @accio-mayachhiato @ezrafrss @iyskgd @bakugouswaif

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miryum · 4 months ago

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In the Dealings of Luck (Mattheo Riddle x Reader)

In which you and Mattheo are reading the same book in the library and start writing notes to each other. What happens when Mattheo realises the reader's identity?

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Reader is Hufflepuff and muggleborn and has a fear of ending up alone :)

September 22nd, 1997

Professor Snape had just assigned a project to all of his unfortunate sixth year students. Not even his precious Slytherins were exempt from this. Each student would pick a potion to research for a month. The students would randomly choose their potion from a small selection and as Snape warned, since he had two sixth year classes, another student would have the same potion.

After having picked the famed Felix Felicis, you went to the library to find a book that referenced it. Luckily (which you found ironic), there was an entire book on the Liquid Luck. You practically skipped to Madam Pince’s desk, thinking the assignment would be a breeze. Everything came to a screeching halt when she informed you that you could not check out the book.

“What? Why?” you asked, staring at her and still holding the book close to you.

“I’m afraid that since there are two students working on each potion, Professor Snape has asked that all books on the topic be kept in the library so each student has access to all resources.”

Unfortunately, her reasoning made sense, so you grumped back to a table. Cracking open the book and mentally subjecting yourself to evenings now spent in the library, you began to read.

September 26th, 1997

It seemed as if you and your co-reader to All Things Lucky: the Full Composition of Felix Felicis had come to a silent agreement. You would sit in the library on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and they would alternatively pour over the book on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and weekends.

You had heard from some other friends that they had met up with the person in Snape’s other class that had the same potion as them. The pair would swap notes and run ideas past each other, but for some reason, you weren’t inclined to. With your luck, it would turn out to be a Slytherin.

The Slytherins in your year were horrid. Years older and younger than you didn’t seem bad at all. In fact, your younger sister was best friends with a Slytherin. The house seemed to get an unwarranted bad reputation. It was just the Slytherins in your year that seemed the worst. Perhaps it was yin and yang. Because Harry Potter and the Golden Trio were in your year, the universe needed to even it out with a Malfoy, Zabini, Nott, Berkshire, and even a Riddle.

Mattheo Riddle had been an enigma to you. You were aware of his presence, as you were sure he was yours, but the both of you kept it at that. He was around. And that was that. Other than the smoking, swearing, and blatant show of girls that paraded by to get his attention, he didn’t seem like a Riddle. He didn’t seem like Voldemort’s son. He was just another Slytherin; nothing atrocious set him apart.

It was getting late in the library, so with your last bit of time, you circled some key words in the book and shoved a discarded piece of paper into the page to act as a bookmark.

And you left it at that.

October 1st, 1997

You hadn’t managed to get to the library on Monday. Hagrid had just found a new branch of bowtruckles, and knowing your odd affiliation to the current bowtruckles, had asked you to help. It took until dusk to coax the bowtruckles down, even with the reassurance of the old bowtruckles. However, even with your newly acquired bowtruckle friends, that meant you hadn’t been able to do any studying.

The book thunked down on the table and you flipped it open to the bookmarked page. Silently cursing Snape, you forced your attention onto the typed words, eyes already drooping. It wasn’t until halfway through your study session that you noticed the scribbles on the bookmark you were fiddling with.

Don’t you think it’s unorthodox to write in a book?

It seemed as if your co-reader was finally reaching out.

You couldn’t help the small smile that lifted your lips. Maybe this wouldn’t be a horrid project after all.

September 30th, 1997

Mattheo had thought himself very unlucky when he got the elusive potion of Felix Felicis. He had put off doing any work on the project until the last day of September when Blaise finally began nagging him. The Slytherin was planning to just take the book to his dorm and use a Self-Writing Quill to paraphrase the entire essay until Madam Pince informed him, quite rudely, that the book was not to be taken out of the library. Apparently, there was another unlucky soul who had the same potion as him.

Almost immediately, he noticed the small piece of paper used as a haphazard bookmark. He flipped to the page to see some sentences underlined. Flipping back a couple pages, he found some notes scribbled in the margins as well.

Maybe he could use the same passages his co-reader was using. It would save him a lot of time searching for quotes to use. He quickly wrote down the page numbers where the scribbles were.

Mattheo knew the smart thing to do would be to leave the underlined words alone so he could continue copying off of his unfortunate co-reader. But something in him, just before he closed the book, having decided that he had done enough work today, made him flick his pen over the impromptu bookmark.

Don’t you think it’s unorthodox to write in a book?

October 2nd, 1997

Blaise was surprisingly pleased when Mattheo announced he was going to the library for some studying on Felix Felicis. He was relieved he didn’t need to berate the son of the Dark Lord anymore, but when Blasie’s eyes met Enzo’s, they both knew something else was at play. When was the last time Mattheo went to the library on his own free will?

But Mattheo missed their exchanged glance, already out the door. Even if he was a Riddle, he was still a teenager, and the prospect of exchanging secretive notes with a stranger intrigued him.

His co-reader had left him a reply on the bookmark, which said, They’re important. And I plan on erasing them once the project is done.

A bookworm, Mattheo realised. And a smartass. Who did he know in his year that was a bookworm? Of course, he could rule out anyone in his potions class, so that left the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Ravenclaw’s were notoriously smart-alecks and readers, but they also didn’t start their projects right away. They were procrastinators, wanting to study their own niche interests before their school work. However, that was a gross overgeneralization, so maybe his co-reader was a Ravenclaw.

Mattheo went to grab a pack of cigarettes, for those always helped him think, but then he saw Madame Pince’s watchful eye. Obviously, the librarian didn’t trust him. He didn’t blame her, but just once he wished someone would wait to judge him until they knew him better. With a scoff, he abandoned his search for cigarettes and instead tore off a bit of parchment. Instead of writing any of his essay, however, he ran through the mental list of the other sixth years and wrote down those who were in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.

Padma Patil, Anthony Goldstein, Amanda Goldstein, Leanne Walters, Emily Xiao, Larry O’Donnel, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Y/n L/n…

Padma Patil, Susan Bones, and Leanne Walters all hated him, mostly because he had either slept with them or one of their friends and then didn’t pursue them any further. Anthony Goldstein and Justin Finch-Fletchley were just downright afraid of him, as was Ernie Macmillan, though the kid at least had some spine to pretend to have some bite, when in reality, he was all bark. Amanda Goldstein had a fat crush on him ever since third year, but she really was unappealing in his eyes. Much too meek and weak-willed, though probably someone his father would like. Zacharias Smith was an alright bloke. Hannah Abbott was quiet and the only reason Mattheo knew of her was because she had been his herbology partner once. He thought her much too naive and gullible, but a nice girl nonetheless.

Was it wrong that he wished his penpal to be you? He was sure his co-reader didn’t know who he was, so it could be any one of the Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws. But god, how he wanted it to be you. You were the first name that popped into his mind, but he had waited to write it down until the end; he wanted to be the only one to see it.

The son of the Dark Lord had first met you during the sorting ceremony of Year One. You had found Hagrid immediately once exiting the train and clung to his coat. Mattheo immediately clocked you as a muggleborn. His father would not be pleased with the way his eyes scanned over your features. When you got sorted into Hufflepuff, and he Slytherin, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment, but no surprise. You didn’t seem like a Slytherin.

So, do you have any notes for this assignment I can use? he wrote on a new sheet of parchment and stuck it in the book. Mattheo decided that was enough studying and left.

October 3rd, 1997

I don’t make it a habit of giving out my hard-earned notes when I don’t know if the other person has done any work or not.

It seemed as if anonymity was making you more bold.

October 4th, 1997

Oh, you’re fun. Mattheo grinned as he wrote back. Anyway I could change your mind? Or do you make it a habit of being a smartass? What house are you in?

October 6th, 1997

I just don’t see why you’re asking for my notes. We’re reading from the same book. You should be getting the same information I am. Have you not started writing your essay yet? And I’m not being a smartass. I’m just being smart. You paused, quill poised over the parchment. After a moment, you slowly lowered it to the paper and wrote, Hufflepuff.

For some reason, revealing that piece of information seemed earth-shaking. You quickly packed up and left after that.

October 7th, 1997

Mattheo thought about trying to catch his penpal in the act, but where would the fun be in that? His lips parted in that coy little smirk of his when he read that they were from Hufflepuff. That narrowed down his list perfectly.

Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Y/n L/n.

He had his suspicions, of course, but that might’ve also been his delusion and hopes of grandeur. He had learned early on to not get his hopes up about anything – not birthdays, test scores, or love. And especially not about trying to break out of the iron-cast mold of being the Slytherin heir.

Contrary to what you may have thought, ever since that first day of First Year, Mattheo had kept you in his peripheral. You were like a song stuck in his head that wouldn’t go away. And the music just kept getting louder and louder. In Second Year, he had noticed all the muggleborns and even half-bloods avoiding him after the first bloody message on the walls. At just twelve, it had cemented what he had known his entire life: he was to be feared.

But then you had given him the smallest wave in the hallway and the new music had made his heart flutter. He still remembered the relief he felt whenever you weren’t the muggleborn to be petrified.

The music had gotten louder in Third Year when the Defense Against the Dark Arts class had worked with Professor Lupin (of whom Mattheo had totally known to be a werewolf) on Boggarts. Professor Lupin was wise and didn’t ask Mattheo to stand in front of the cabinet, for they both knew Voldemort wouldn’t be a pleasant sight to see for the other students

Then you stepped up. The Boggart emerged and Mattheo immediately saw the resemblance. The Boggart was an older you, perhaps mid-fifties. The Boggart, poised as you, looked around and, in drab clothing, then shook its head. Mattheo’s eyes flickered down to its hand. No ring lay on its finger. Human you stood, silent, for a while, a crease between your brows. And you muttered the spell and stepped back.

Oh, how Mattheo had wanted to tell you that as long as he lived, he would do everything in his power to ensure that future didn’t become a reality.

In Fourth Year, the music grew into a crescendo. He didn’t have the guts to ask you to the Yule Ball. You were the lovely little Hufflepuff and he had a reputation to uphold. But you were radiant. You hadn’t meant to wear a gown that was green; it was a coincidence. You were wearing the colours of the snake and Mattheo’s little fourteen year old heart was beating hard enough to cause a stroke. He should’ve taken Astoria Greengrass to the dance – that would’ve been the thing his father would’ve wanted – but he couldn’t. Not when you danced so freely and laughed so lovely. Perhaps though, instead of watching hypnotic you, he should have focused on forcing the blood back up to his brain.

The music practically made it hard to hear in Fifth Year. When everyone else was torn between believing Dumbledore and fearing Mattheo’s father or believing their government, you still gave him a little nod in the hallways.

In Sixth Year, the music was all he could hear. Even though he arrived at Hogwarts with a brand-new Dark Mark burned into his forearm, your smile at the opening feast made it all seem worth it.

Hufflepuff, huh? So, are you, like, loyal and kind and stuff? Do you like badgers? Maybe I should call you a little badger.

October 8th, 1997

Your penpal was a part of your life now. It was an expectation that they would have a note ready for you whenever you went into the library. You were sure this essay about Felix Felicis was going to be the best damn paper you’d ever written with how much time you had been spending in the library. Honestly, you should thank your penpal because they gave you incentive to study.

You sound like a Slytherin, you wrote back. And I don’t know. Hufflepuffs are all different, you know? I don’t want it to sound like I’m bragging if I say “I’m kind and amazing and patient.” But don’t call me a little badger.

October 9th, 1997

Do I need to add ‘humble’ onto the Hufflepuff roster, little badger? And you’re spot on. I am of the great house of Slytherin and I am not ashamed to say it. Do you like Quidditch?

October 10th, 1997

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the question. If your penpal hadn’t admitted to being a Slytherin and if Oliver Wood hadn’t graduated a couple years before, you were certain it would be the old Gryffindor.

I admit, I do like Quidditch. It was really fascinating to me when I first came into the wizarding world, as were most things. I like flying, but never tried out for the team. It was too much physical contact and I don’t want to fall off a broom from fifty feet up. But I still enjoy flying. By your question, I assume you play? And don’t call me little badger.

Maybe you liked communicating with this mystery person more than you let on.

October 11th, 1997

Mattheo was smiling at a piece of paper. He was grinning at a scrap of parchment. He was practically beaming just because his penpal was a muggleborn. And you were a muggleborn. You were one of two muggleborns left on his list: Justin Finch-Fletchley and you.

Mattheo was certain that Justin Finch-Fletchley would’ve stopped communicating with a penpal as soon as he learned they were a Slytherin. So it had to be you. You had to be his penpal.

For once in his life, Mattheo was getting his hopes up.

October 18th, 1997

Mattheo had been collecting a plethora of information on his pen pal – which he was certain was you. The problem was, the project was ending in two days and then where would he be? Without his little badger? Should he say something or let sleeping dogs lie?

With a good conscience, could he even bring you into his life? Who would want to be with the son of the Dark Lord? Certainly not you, who he had come to adore and pine after.

Sweet Salazar, what was he going to do?

October 20th, 1997

“Professor Snape?” You stood in front of his desk after the lesson, bag slung over your shoulder as you clutched the strap. “May I ask you a question?”

“What is it?” the professor drawled, looking over the papers he had received about the unique potions.

You shifted your weight from one foot to another. “Um, I was wondering who was the person in the other class that was studying Felix Felicis.”

Professor Snape’s eyes bored into yours. “Why do you wish to know?”

It took you a minute to reply. “We conversed a bit via notes and I think we would make good friends.”

If you hadn’t known Professor Snape for six years, you could have sworn there was some amusement in Snape’s stare. “Perhaps you should write one last letter to your unofficial partner. If they do not respond, Miss L/n, then I will be amenable to responding.”

With a cautious nod and frustration brewing in your chest at the ambiguous answer, you turned and left.

Your feet took you to the library, where the book on Felix Felicis was waiting for you on its shelf. When you pulled it out, it was like the book opened to the exact page where a new note sat. You flipped through the adjoining pages, a bit desperately, looking for the old messages you and your penpal had written. But the parchment wasn’t there.

Defeated, you took the newer note and unfolded it.

If you’re reading this, you’re realising that I took our correspondence, little badger. I apologise, for I’m sure you wanted it, but I couldn’t bear to part with it. Though perhaps we can reach an agreement. Meet me at the astronomy tower?

Was it a coincidence that you had gotten the Potion of Lucky for your project?

October 20th, 1997

Mattheo stood at the top of the astronomy tower, calves deliciously burning with the exhaustion of climbing all the way up there. It was a pleasurable pain, one that reminded him he was alive.

The cool bite of the wind did nothing against the Warming Charm he had cast, though he was sure that even if he hadn’t thought to perform the spell, the adrenaline in his veins would still keep his heart beating erratically. He stared out at the grounds of Hogwarts, mind silent.

Of course he heard the door creak open and your footsteps on the stone. Of course he could feel the silence between the both of you as you stared at the back of his head.

“Mattheo?” Your voice cut through the silence.

He turned around.

“Hey, little badger.”

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #pining #books #writing notes in books #hufflepuff #hufflepuff x slytherin #hufflepuff reader #muggle born #felix felicis #blaise zabini #enzo berkshire #madame pince #hagrid #severus snape #oliver wood #potions

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ahqkas · 11 months ago

Note

Remus with a partner who faints easily/out of nowhere. I forgot what it’s called but I had seen on yt shorts where a girl shows how she faints out of no where but her bf I think always has his hands ready to catch her head and lay her down safely and I thought it would be cute if Remus does it 💕

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

THE SUN WAS SETTING OVER THE HOGWARTS GROUNDS, CASTING A WARM, GOLDEN HUE THROUGH THE TALL WINDOWS OF THE LIBRARY. the scent of blooming flowers flowed in from the open windows, mingling with the faint, musty aroma of old parchment and leather-bound books. it was a peaceful evening, the kind that made everything feel possible and right in the world.

remus lupin sat at one of the large, wooden tables, a pile of books and scrolls spread out before him. the boy was restlessly studying for his upcoming n.e.w.t.s, but his mind kept wandering back to you. you were seated across from him, your head bent over a particularly thick tome on charms, a look of intense concentration on your face.

he watched you for a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips. the way your hair fell over your forehead, the way you chewed on your bottom lip when you were deep in thought — it all captivated him. he was utterly and completely smitten.

"remus," you said suddenly, looking up and catching him off guard. "do you remember the incantation for the levitation charm? my mind's gone completely blank."

"of course," he replied, his grin widening. "it’s wingardium leviosa. want me to show you the wand movement again?"

you nodded eagerly, and he stood, moving around the table to sit beside you. as he demonstrated the swish and flick motion, he was acutely aware of how close you were. your shoulders brushed, and he could feel the warmth radiating from you.

"like this?" you asked, mimicking his movement perfectly.

"exactly," he said, giving you a nod of approval. "you've got it."

you beamed at him, and his heart swelled with the feelings he dearly held for you. "thanks, remus. you're always so helpful."

“anything for you."

as the evening wore on, the library grew quieter, the few remaining students trickling out to their common rooms. you and remus stayed, lost in your studies and the comfortable companionship you shared. the only sounds were the rustling of pages and the occasional hoot from an owl outside.

but remus was always mindful of your condition. he knew that at any moment, you could faint without warning, and he was always prepared to catch you. it was something that had become second nature to him, a silent promise of protection and care.

you were in the middle of discussing a particularly tricky defense against the dark arts spell when you felt the familiar dizziness wash over you. the world around you seemed to blur and spin, and you knew what was coming. "remus . . .” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

he was instantly alert, his arms moving to support you. "i’ve got you," he murmured reassuringly, cradling your head gently as you began to faint. the boy carefully lowered you to the table, making sure you were comfortable and safe.

as you came to, your eyes fluttered open to find remus gazing down at you, concern etched across his features. "are you okay?" he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

you nodded, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence. "i’m fine, thanks to you."

he smiled, relief flooding his eyes. "good. you scared me for a moment there."

"sorry about that. i didn't mean to."

"you don't need to apologize," remus replied, his tone gentle and reassuring as he took your hand into his and squeezed the flesh softly. "i’m just glad you're okay.”

588 notes · View notes

enyaliuswrites · 2 months ago

Text

➽ Love and Deepspace Hogwarts AU

Multiple characters x gn!reader tags: fluff, reader doesn’t have to be mc, Hogwarts au, Harry Potter AU, reader doesn't have to be in a relationship with character but it is slightly implied

Gryffindor. I mean he’s basically a knight in shining armor, brave and bold. He literally left everything and fought everyone and fate just to save MC.

Like in my college au, Xavier can always be found sleeping in random places. Outside near the broom shed or even near the Forbidden Forest, because “nobody would bother him there” (He got into a lot of trouble).

He’s always the last one to arrive for dinner and always the last to leave, because the food was too good and we know how big of a foodie Xavier is, and also because he kept nearly falling asleep.

Xavier also definitely flies up on his broom to some rooftop and just sleeps there. He gets into trouble a lot, but this doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about his house. Xavier, although he keeps a low profile, he’ll score perfect scores on his exam, and although occasionally mess up his potions—because he fell asleep—he’ll still get it right in the end.

As much as he gets into trouble and loses points for Gryffindor, he always earns back more than he loses. Also he has no doubt that others in his house will eventually earn it back as well. He’s a student that keeps his profile low-key, doesn’t gather much attention apart from some girls in his class having a crush on him because of his good looks, but other than that he tries to keep a low profile and keeps to himself.

Xavier picked a cat for his companion on a whim but now he’s really attached to his cat. Like himself, his cat has white fur, and big blue eyes. When you find one sleeping the other one must be sleeping nearby as well.

Ravenclaw. Well it’s kind of obvious, he’s yearning for knowledge and also is a very high overachiever. However, I also believe he could be a Hufflepuff because he’s quite humble and down-to-earth. As well as the domestic and homey interactions with MC. But for the sake of this I’ll put him in Ravenclaw.

Zayne can either be found in the library or in the Ravenclaw Tower with his nose in a book. He’ll definitely be like Hermione and take multiple classes, exhausting himself so much that he’ll fall asleep in 3 seconds flat if he’s not careful. He often has nightmares, so taking extra classes and avoiding sleep is his escape.

He aces all his classes, perfect in spells, potions, the writing and reading, the practical, you name it. However, you can also often see dark bags under his eyes. Zayne keeps to himself and is known to all the professors as a very smart, polite and quiet student. He earns a lot of points for Ravenclaw and has almost never gotten into trouble.

Still with a heart of a doctor, Zayne has perfected all of his knowledge of healing and regeneration spells, able to mend a bone in just a few seconds. He’s most likely the first student people go to if no professors are around and someone is injured.

Zayne gets a lot of confessions, girls (and boys) love him. He’s respectful. Keeps to himself. Smart. The list goes on and on. Zayne of course turns down everyone who approaches him, he only has like two friends, actually make that one. Greyson. The only other guy that he barely talks to and if he does then it’s about studies or a new spell.

He’s very quiet and his stoic face throws people off, but during his time off he’s often seen going over to Hogsmeade to help out some elderly people or acting as a makeshift doctor—all the while accompanied by his pet owl. His owl is completely black, with big yellow eyes and is a know-it-all among other owls.

Ravenclaw. Most people say Slytherin and I can see why, BUT, I think Ravenclaw suits him more. He wants to avenge Lumeria not for power or ambition, plus he has such a yearn for art. He literally MAKES his own paints and travels around the world to appreciate art. He paints and makes art not for fame or power, but for his own creativity.

Okay, Rafayel might be the biggest trouble maker. He’s always experimenting with potions, whether in class or not. He’s an artist and his uniform is always very flashy, always decorating and adding accessories and add ons in his uniform.

He’s either seen walking around the campus for days or locked in his room for days, which of course gets him into trouble. His room is full of canvases, broomsticks (with paint on them, because he wanted to experiment), paints, potions and questionable things. He often visits the Greenhouses to find new things to use for his paints.

Although Rafayel gets into trouble a lot that doesn’t mean he’s necessarily a bad student. He has great grades, he’s probably the guy that sits at the back and quickly finishes the work before starting his own. Mastering a spell then trying out a new one to spark his creativity for a new art piece.

His paintings have spells casted in them so whatever he paints there is something different in each of his creations; either the subjects in the painting can move, sound can be heard (like the waves crashing), or smell—each artwork has to engage 2 of the 5 senses (because seeing is already there).

Rafayel has a toad. He chose a toad because he couldn’t stand having a cat and an owl scared him, (he’s just a cute lil fish afterall). His toad is the ‘Giant Purple Toad’ and from the name you can tell that his toad is all purple. At first Rafayel wanted a fish but soon found out how that wouldn’t really be practical, so he settled with a toad instead. They’re best buds now.

Slytherin. Sylus is not a bad guy, it’s just that he has a natural desire for power and drive for ambition. He’s always been someone with overwhelming power, in his Myth, Anecdotes and even in this life. He’s a natural leader and the big boss in Onychinus, always being one step ahead of others.

Sylus is the mysterious student who’s suspiciously good at EVERY class. And it’s not like, ‘oh he learned really fast’ it’s like he already knew it and mastered it. The class he’s best at? D.A.D.A. He’s mastered every spell and knows every potion concoction.

He’s the type of student that stands out, whether that be about his looks, grades, or personality, he’s just sticking out in the crowd of students. While Sylus is not necessarily a ‘troublemaker’ there are a lot of rumors around his name and he definitely works some shady things with some other professors.

His grades are perfect, even though he doesn’t go to class and disappears off somewhere else sometimes. However, he makes it up by giving points to Slytherin unintentionally, mastering a complex spell in the first go, making a potion that exceeds what it's intended purpose was.

The reason why Sylus is not really a ‘troublemaker’ is that no one can actually catch him in the act or has any proof; therefore he doesn’t exactly lose points for Slytherin instead he actually gains them some points with his amazing studies. He’s not even counted as an academic weapon because if we were to compare, he’s more like a nuclear bomb, than a machine gun or rifle.

Kieran and Luke can always be found close by Sylus . They’re his closest friends and almost always clean up for him, which is quite rare since he rarely makes any mistakes. Although it’s not technically set as a rule to only have an owl, a cat, or a toad as a pet (Ron had Scabbers) Sylus has Mephisto. Nobody says anything about how the rules were bent, they only complain about how noisy Mephisto is. Mephisto definitely is known as the animal to not be messed with around other pets.

Slytherin. He’s calculating, cautious, and ruthless. His loyalties only lie with one person, MC, other than her. I have no doubt that he’ll betray EVER in a heartbeat if he had the chance. He also doesn’t want anyone to see his vulnerability, even MC. He has no hesitation to do what it takes to get what he wants, and that is to protect MC.

Caleb is the popular kid most definitely. He’s a chaser and a star player in Quidditch, which makes him popular among girls and boys. He’s known as ‘The Outlier’ because he’s polite and seems so kind and approachable to others but his close friends know that’s a load of bs.

Caleb usually hangs around the Quidditch Pitch or in his own room, he likes spending time alone to think and study. Sometimes he gets into a lot of trouble because he’s seen flying around on his broomstick on the pitch when it’s 1 am.

Caleb is the top in all his classes, he listens in class but also manages to talk to his friends as well. However, he almost never gets into trouble, always talking with precision that makes his friends get into trouble but not him. He definitely hangs out with his friends, but he’s the type of guy to hang out with friends during school hours then afterwards just do his own thing, only rarely hanging outside of school hours.

He’s not necessarily a troublemaker, it’s just that Caleb can act a little silly at times. Flying around the Quidditch Pitch to clear his thoughts, practicing late into the early mornings, exploding a cauldron. Caleb is the type of student that always loses points to Slytherin because of not being inside bed when it’s dark out or sneaking into the kitchens.

However, he compensates with topping all his classes, acing every exam. And his scores aren’t like 80 or 90, no, it’s 100’s. Just 100’s in every class, only sometimes the occasional 99 or 98. His friends definitely ask him for study advice but he doesn’t budge, he smartly brushes it off and tells them to study and that they got this. He’ll give some study tips but he won’t go all out to help tutor them, maybe only a few super close friends, but his super close friends often don’t need much help.

One thing about Caleb is that he has a Great Horned Owl, which is known to be the fastest, and he specifically trained the owl to help him with cooking and be his partner-in-crime. He has his owl sneak into the kitchen to let him know if the coast is clear then trained his owl to get him ingredients while he tries out a new recipe to make for a special someone (it’s totally you). He totally got caught and lost a bunch of points but he was able to cook you something, so that’s a win for him. Caleb also definitely trained his owl to steal some food from his friends.

A/N: Okay this took wayyy too long to get out. I still have more for this, similar to my Uni AU I had when you guys first met and some other cute things but I don’t know if you guys want that. Please tell me if you do. I read and watched like 3 movies and books of HP so I don’t really know much, I hope this is alright. I was more of a Percy Jackson fan ^^;;. Anyways, my finals are nearing so my posts are reallyyy slow, please bear with me. As always stay delusional! (*´∀`*)

dividers by @omi-resources

#enyaliuswrites #love and deep space #love and deepspace x you #lads x you #lads fluff #l&ds #lads x reader #love and deepspace #harry potter au #xavier fluff #lads xavier #zayne fluff #lads zayne #rafayel fluff #lads rafayel #sylus fluff #lads sylus #caleb fluff #lads caleb

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