#things continue to spiral out of control

[breannasfluff]

context

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[firstofficerkittycat]

bones is waking up in a cold sweat stumbling into the corner of the room like i cant go there.......i cant end up there u know what they do to people there????do you know????????and spock is lying trapped underneath jim with one eye open like "leonard your culture's mythologisation of hell is based on a valley surrounding jerusalem where mass human sacrifice once took place. I can suggest this location for our next shore leave if you would be interested in seeing it for yourself. the atmosphere is quite pleasant

there's something so good about mcspirk just being this dude with his evangelical ocd and the 2 jewish boys that calm him down

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference] reacting to someone flirting with their s/o + jealousness

I'll be honest, I had like four headcanons on jealousy (and five on pregnancy, curse on you and your baby fever), so making this headcanon became a priority. Plus, I tried to make it a bit longer. As usual, under the "read more" line, you'll find both my other project for Arcane (a series of vintage-style posters) and my other socials in case you want to follow me because you love me too much.

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky |

poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster 1| | Silco poster 2| |Silco poster 3| | Steb poster |

Jayce:

- He’s not the type to cause a scene, nor is he the aggressive kind.  

- When someone flirts with you in front of him for the first time, he’s confused for a few seconds.  

- The problem begins when the thought starts settling, stagnating, thickening like sediment at the bottom of a bottle. Was the person really hitting on you, or is he just being paranoid?  

- Did they not realize you were together? Or did they do it on purpose?  

- It doesn’t take long for him to start ignoring you, not even on purpose—he suddenly forgets he’s a scientist, a successful adult man, and spirals into a crisis.  

- What if he’s not enough? What if that person realized before him that he wasn’t suited for you?  

- You notice something’s off, but he doesn’t say a word. If it happens again, his fists clench, he feels like the world is collapsing on him, and if it persists, he leaves without even thinking.  

- He doesn’t want to witness that scene; he’s terrified that you might accept the flirtation, that you’ll realize he’s not good enough for you.  

- And if you’re going to leave him, he doesn’t want to see it with his own eyes.  

- Eventually, he’ll be the one to bring up the subject, just to tell you that if you’re tired of him, he won’t hold it against you and that he understands.  

- It’s not true, but he wants to seem mature. He wants to be a good partner until the end and almost breaks down when you reassure him that you don’t want to leave him, that he is enough.

 Viktor:

- Pre-"Arcane s1-tamed" Viktor would snap at the person flirting with you or insult them under his breath.  

- In the wrong moment, with enough alcohol in his system, his reaction could even turn violent.  

- Viktor gets jealous with anger—a mix of fear of being mocked, the lack of control over the situation, and his sense of replaceability set him off.  

- But he’s also an adult. He’ll try to make peace with himself before talking to you about it.  

- Post-"Arcane-tamed" Viktor observes you, tries to read your signals. He’s irritated but keeps calm and even interrupts the situation, pointing out that the two of you have things to do.  

- He doesn’t wait long to bring it up and is straightforward: “Do you like him?”  

- His jealousy is laced with sadness. The thought of losing your warmth, intimacy, and everything he has with you makes him feel empty.  

- He knows he’s often absent because of his research, that it’s hard to be with someone with “special needs” because it can be limiting at times. He’s aware of his unique personality and his background. His anger quickly shifts to resignation, becoming a quiet sorrow.  

- When you try to reassure him, his response is even sadder: “I know I’m hard to love. I don’t blame you.”  

- When someone hits on you, as soon as you’re alone, he holds you closer. During cuddles, he breathes in your scent deeply, as if trying to memorize you in case he will ever have to remember you.

 Ekko:

- At the Tree, it’s pretty normal. They share everything, and everyone is just very friendly. If someone flirts with you at the Firelight hideout, he laughs, jokes, and stays calm.  

- The problem arises outside of that safe space.  

- When someone from outside flirts with you, he’s stunned for a moment, but if it continues, he leaves before you can even respond.  

- He knows that if he stayed, things might escalate.  

- “I didn’t like how that guy was talking to you,” he blurts out when you try to talk to him, but it’s obvious the issue cuts deeper than that. His tone and downcast eyes reveal that it’s more significant than it seems.  

- Living at the Tree has taken your relationship to a deeper level. You take care of the kids together, share everything, and live as part of a big interconnected family.  

- The idea of someone threatening the peace of his home, his family, makes him feel like those things he takes for granted could suddenly change. 

- That tomorrow, you might no longer be his “married” partner but two strangers.

 Vander:

- Vander is too old to be jealous, and has been in enough strange and ambiguous situations not to overreact.  

- If someone flirts with you, maybe at the bar in front of him, he chuckles to himself, commenting only after the person leaves that you’re so attractive no one can resist you.  

- He doesn’t like it, but it often makes him smile to see others recognize what he sees in you.  

- On the night when someone is particularly persistent or you seem to laugh more than usual, he taps his finger on the bar, contemplating what to do. When he catches your eye, he simply mouths, “If you want to go, don’t worry—I’ll close the bar.”  

- It’s not about being open to a polyamorous relationship, don’t misunderstand. He believes that a relationship should be based on the fact that you actively choose to be with him, not on obligation. That’s why he gives you the freedom to back out if you want.  

- When you shake your head, refuse the other person, and stay with him—maybe touching his hand at the bar when he has a moment of peace—he looks at you with an indescribable tenderness.  

- “I’m glad you’re here with me,” he whispers when you’re finally alone, holding you tightly in his arms.  

Silco:

- On one hand, he’s too old to make a scene, but when he sees someone flirting with you right in front of him, something inside him falters.  

- Being able, after so many years, to form such a deep bond with someone put him in a state of comfort he hadn’t realized might one day be taken away.  

- Suddenly, that possibility becomes real, vivid. Outwardly, he shows no emotion and doesn’t lose his composure for even a moment—because if he did, he might lose control. But inside, he feels like he’s dying.  

- If you laugh a little too much or don’t explicitly reject the person, the turmoil inside him intensifies rapidly.  

- He’s been through too much, and his mind is wired to “strike before being struck,” which is why he immediately becomes colder, seeking emotional distance to avoid being vulnerable.  

- He’s not the king of good communication. If you try to ask him what’s wrong, he’ll dodge the question. It’ll take a lot of effort on your part to understand what triggered his behavior, to talk to him and reassure him gently, never too directly.  

- You’ll need to show him, through actions, that you haven’t left and don’t plan to before he starts acting normal again—becoming more physically affectionate when you’re alone.  

 Jinx:

- Jinx is possessive and jealous, living in constant fear of being both not enough and too much at the same time—of losing everything she has and being abandoned by anyone who can still leave her.  

- It’s in those rare moments when the buzzing behind her eyes quiets, when she’s at rest, that for a single second, just one fleeting instant, she allows herself to forget that fear.  

- And then, when you’re together, and someone pays you a compliment that makes you laugh, something snaps in her head.  

- Do you know them? Why are they so friendly? Why don’t you say something? Why did you stop walking? Walk, dammit, walk. Why are they touching your shoulder? Why don’t you stop them? Why don’t you stop them? WHY DON’T YOU STOP THEM.  

- The likelihood that the person who flirted with you ends up found the next day with a broken limb in a dumpster is extremely high.  

- But even that doesn’t calm her. When you get home, she isolates herself, spiraling into thoughts that maybe, if you could, you’d have gone with that person or followed them.  

- She’ll need lots of affirmation and both verbal and physical reassurance before she calms down.  

Vi:

- Her jealousy exists, it’s there, but she expresses it in a very straightforward way.  

- Having been forced to grow up too quickly and unable to throw tantrums because she was responsible for her siblings, her emotions have always been carefully bottled up and dealt with through questionable coping mechanisms.  

- Sure, having someone by her side now means she can’t go brawling in the streets, especially when the reason feels so trivial.  

- Usually, she doesn’t even pay much attention to it, but this time, exhaustion, stress, or a moment of vulnerability probably made the situation unbearable.  

- And as always, if you have questions no one can answer, the solution is probably at the bottom of a glass.  

- She doesn’t want to burden you with how she feels; it’s not even your fault, and she knows it’s stupid to feel this way. But when she’s forced to confront the idea that you may not a constant in her life, that maybe you want something better, something more—at that moment, she needs to get out, to scream, to punch something, with enough alcohol in her system to pass out in an alleyway.  

- She struggles to talk about it, hates making you responsible for her emotions, and hates that she has to make you worry when it’s not your fault.  

- When you bring it up and try to approach her with an attitude that makes her feel reassured, she has moments of being emotionally fragile, more vulnerable than usual.  

 Caitlyn:

- This woman is a lady killer—it’s sadly very normal for people to get jealous of her.  

- At work, during conferences, or noble meetings, she’s used to people flirting with her. That’s why, when she sees someone flirting with you, her first thought is that they might be making you uncomfortable.  

- If she sees you’re actually uncomfortable, she’ll personally step in to ensure the other person leaves.  

- If she doesn’t see you uncomfortable, she’ll observe you for a few minutes, becoming distracted and absent from her own conversations, lost in analyzing what she’s seeing. -However, she dislikes waiting to address issues, so expect her to ask if something is wrong between the two of you as soon as you’re home.  

- Caitlyn’s issue is that her thoughts ferment. If she doesn’t address the matter immediately, each day will make her mood worse, leading to unnecessary tension.  

- She might not shake off that strange feeling immediately and could remain distant until the next day, but it’s not punitive. Her emotions catch her off guard and make her colder unintentionally.  

- She’ll make up for it completely the following day.  

- She’ll also ensure she gets matching rings for both of you, so they can serve as a signal to others.  

 Mel:

- For Mel, jealousy is just bitterness.  

- She doesn’t show it. Her training in always appearing reliable and cordial means she’s adept at masking her feelings. So, when she sees someone flirting with you at a gala, her gaze lingers for just a few moments before she returns to smiling at her conversation partner.  

- A little passive-aggressive, with comments like “I saw you had fun” or “So, tell me about…”—but not meant to provoke you.  

- She’s the first to acknowledge that at meetings and galas, one must be adaptable, charming, smiley, and captivating. She knows that flirting is often part of the façade or just a small piece of a larger strategy, so what may sound like provocation is usually her way of asking what was on your mind.  

- Her bitter jealousy becomes stronger and more genuine when there’s no strategy, no deeper game, but the person continues attending events and spends all their time trying to flirt with you. In these cases, she won’t hesitate to interrupt with a firm, “Excuse us,” and lead you to the balcony.  

- No scene, no lecture—just a curt and slightly sad, “I only ask that you don’t make a fool of me.”  

- When reassured that there was never even the intention of doing so, she becomes almost an accomplice. Have fun (within limits), gather amusing or trivial information, and tell her all about it later when you’re alone under the sheets.  

 Sevika:

- Sorry to disappoint, but she’s the least jealous character here.  

- Her most stable relationships have all been at the brothel. If someone flirts with you, she’ll wait until the person leaves to comment on how slimy they were or how you seem to attract everyone without exception.  

- Zaun is precarious; her job is precarious; even staying alive is extremely precarious. She doesn’t have time for jealousy. To her, it wouldn’t make sense to get angry or even cause a scene just because someone flirts with you when she can’t be around much or offer you stability herself.  

- She knows perfectly well that her mechanical arm, her boss, her boss’s daughter, the drug use, and the dangerous work she does make her someone it’s hard to stay close to. But this doesn’t make her insecure—rather, it makes her grateful.  

- It’s your choice to stay by her side, and if you ever want to leave, she believes you should feel free to do so without fearing any outburst from her.  

- When you reassure her that you’d never betray, replace, or leave her, she pulls you close with one arm, kisses your forehead, and gives the faintest smile.  

- That said, if someone flirts too much and you complain about their persistence, Sevika will handle it diplomatically—by picking them up and slamming them against the wall in front of you, making sure the point sinks in effectively.  

[tsuutarr]

All of the fairies in Cot’s village have told him that he’s a workaholic with no understanding of his own limits. He usually waves them off, too focused on his potion crafting to really care about what they’re saying.

But when he falls inside your basket, he’s vividly aware of how stupid he is for ignoring his own limitations. He had flown too far to find some herbs and now he’s stuck in a human’s basket. He really doesn’t want to know what you’ll do to him, but he’s too tired to fly away.

Maybe you’ll put him in a jar. Or rip off his wings. Or feed him to your dog. Or something. Thousands and thousands of negative thoughts flood his head as he looks up at you, a mixture of wariness and exhaustion present on his face.

The last thing he expects is for you to push a few berries his way. The sweet, tantalizing scent of the berries makes Cot’s mouth water. His hunger wins over caution as he chows down on your gift. He doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything so delicious. 

Once he’s done eating, Cot decides that you’re actually really, really nice. The smile on your face as you watch him eat makes his heart feel all fuzzy and warm. Your voice when you talk to him is really pretty, too.

After that, Cot begins to linger around you. At first, it’s purely to repay you! You were so nice to him, so of course he wants to pay that forward. He helps you take care of your garden and helps you clean your house, eager to please you. 

As he continues to assist you in any way he can, Cot can’t help but love spending time with you. It’s fun, it’s easy, it’s just… nice to be with you. In fact, he spends most of his time with you, making himself comfy in the dollhouse you got for him. And when he has to go back to the Fae Realm, all he can think about is you as he goes about his tasks.

He doesn’t really mind it, though. He likes thinking about you.

But then he has a thought. Maybe it’ll be better if you’re with him, always. When he sees you hanging out with your friends on his visit to the human realm, this thought spirals out of control until it becomes something dark and possessive and all-consuming.

Yeah, it really will be better if you're always with him.

He begins to gift you enchanted tea leaves from the Fae Realm, determined to slowly transform you into someone who’s more fae than human. Then, he gifts you a lovely necklace, enchanted with a piece of his magic – a piece of him. 

You gratefully accept the necklace, unaware of the enchantment on it – an enchantment to ensure that all your friends are too sick to ever spend time with you because he’s the only one you’ll ever need.

And as Cot sets his plan, you’ll be none the wiser. After all, why would you ever suspect your cute, tiny fairy friend? He’s just so adorable and harmless, you know?

[amiableness]

Little Lies

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader

Summary: James asks Sirius and Y/n to pretend to date after he blurts out they are to Lily.

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: smut 18+, male masturbation, oral fem receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (pls be so careful!), reader wears a bikini top, and jealousy

A/N 💌 Hope you all enjoy this; it's been my baby for a while!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I may have severely fucked up.” James sighs, his features tight with guilt as he stands before you. His chest is heaving like he has run all the way to you—it’s a likely theory.

Remus glances up from beside you; the two of you had been buried in your homework in the common room when James came racing in. He’s disappointed that James has disrupted the productive atmosphere. There’s no way that you or Remus will be continuing to work on your essays.

His admission doesn’t surprise you; James has come to you countless times seeking assistance after making a mistake. Being best friends since you were born, you’ve grown accustomed to being the one to untangle his messes.

Your parents were best friends, which meant that you and James were also raised to be. There wasn’t a memory that you could recall that James wasn’t in. It ended up working; to both of your mum’s excitement, you and James were inseparable. As the levelheaded one between you, you often found yourself trailing after James, tasked with picking up the pieces.

It was in the aftermath of pranks spiraling out of control, times when he impulsively voiced things he really shouldn’t have, or instances when he procrastinated excessively on his work, inevitably turning to you for help with his essays. Surprisingly, it’s become almost amusing to you, a reliable routine in your friendship.

You undeniably held the title of James Potter’s best friend.

Your eyes narrow skeptically, folding your arms over your chest, “Define severely.”

His demeanor turns sheepish as he nervously rubs the back of his neck, his gaze drifting away from you. He looks incredibly uncomfortable, “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“You’re not starting off strong.” You snark, an amused smile finding its way onto your lips. Remus chuckles next to you.

“Y/n.” James sighs, his expression urging you to stop your teasing.

“James.” You mimic.

He shoots you a glare, eyes narrowed in mock irritation, “Lily and I were chatting, like really chatting,” He begins, sighing obnoxiously as he settles into the chair opposite you, his expression a grimace. “She told me why she hasn’t taken me seriously when I flirt with her.”

You pause, confusion etching into your features, “And where exactly did you severely fuck up?”

"She thought we were a couple." He says, his hands gesturing wildly between the two of you, his expression a mix of incredulity and amusement. "Can you believe that? You and me?”

You can believe that, actually. You and James have been mistaken for a couple more times than you can count. Even your parents were convinced the two of you would end up together. While you had told them it wasn’t going to happen, you were convinced they were still holding out hope.

You furrow your brows as you watch him a tad uneasy, “Okay, and where did you severely fuck up in this?”

“I panicked, okay?” James looks guilty when he blurts this out. He nearly shouts it, and Remus hushes him. “She said it wasn’t fair for me to flirt with her because of you. She didn’t want your feelings to be hurt and wouldn’t listen when I said we were just friends. And I panicked.”

“Mate, get to the bloody point.” Remus huffs out, tired of James dragging out the story. Nothing bothered Remus more than when James or Sirius took an eternity to get to the point of their story.

“I told her you’re dating Sirius.” James grimaces, shifting nervously.

“What?” You hiss, your palms smacking onto the table, causing James to flinch, “Have you taken too many hits to the head? James, we are not dating!”

James protests, panicking, "But Lily doesn't know that! If you two could just pretend-"

"No, absolutely not! That is going too far." You snap, sending James a frustrated look, while Remus is chuckling to himself next to you.

"Y/n, please. This could be it! My chance with Lily!" James pleads. He’s desperate to try and salvage the plan he had put all his hopes on.

"Starting your new relationship with a lie, are we?" You snap, massaging at your temples. Most of the stress is from spending too many hours studying, but James is undoubtedly making it worse.

James shrugs, a mischievous smirk starting to form, "Well, not really. You and Sirius already flirt a lot. It’s not that far off from the truth."

James was well aware of your feelings for Sirius; he had watched how you nervously stumbled over your words the first day you met Sirius. He had never seen you like that before, eyes lit up with inflation at first glance.

While he occasionally teased you about it, he understood that what you felt for Sirius was deeper than just a crush. Though you would never admit it out loud.

Your frustration grows, "It absolutely is far off from the truth. Lily probably didn’t even believe you! There's no evidence for her to believe the idea that we are together.” You cry, disbelief evident in your voice. James's casual attitude only adds to your frustration. He doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

Remus interjects, an amused scoff escaping him, “There's evidence to believe it."

"Are you joking?" You deadpan, your voice full of incredulity. Remus sends you a teasing smirk. He considers how Sirius flirts with you more than anyone else, but he doesn’t want to deal with Sirius furious at him.

Ever since you met Sirius, you have had a crush on him. Realistically, you knew it was pointless; Sirius had a fan club of admirers. So, you counted yourself lucky that you were one of his closest friends. Being his friend was manageable, and quite honestly, kept your expectations in check.

But Sirius acting like he had feelings for you? You wouldn’t handle that well.

James interjects, "Lily believed it. She even said she wasn't surprised."

"But she thought you and I were together?" You ask, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Your tone was snippier than you intended, but you could feel the stress building. The mere thought of pretending to be with Sirius made you feel nauseous.

"She might've just been jealous, wanting to know if you had feelings for James before she finally goes for him." Remus says casually, and James' eyes light up in excitement.

James is positively giddy as he leans forward, “You think she was jealous?”

"Does Sirius even know?" You interrupt, catching James's eye. He glances at Remus, clearly hoping to hear more about Lily’s supposed jealousy.

James shakes his head, and you scoff, opening your mouth to enlighten James on why you think this is a bad idea. Before you can say anything, Remus cuts you off, “Here’s your chance to tell him.”

You glance up to see Sirius walking through the library, and you resist letting out a lovesick sigh at how effortlessly handsome he is.

Your stomach plummets at the sight of a stunning girl effortlessly chatting with him. His laughter rings out, causing unease to settle in your stomach.

If he was close enough, you probably would’ve tried to eavesdrop.

Despite not knowing her name, you know she’s a Gryffindor; you’ve seen her in the common room. James nudges you, and when you glance at him, he sends you a knowing look.

"Glad to see you guys are having study dates without Peter and me." Sirius calls, settling into the seat next to James and patting him on the shoulder in greeting.

Relief washes over you as you notice that the girl who was with him a second ago is long gone. He glances over at you, and pauses in surprise at your disgruntled expression, "You okay?"

Remus chuckles at the question, finding the harsh look you shoot James hilarious. It’s clear that he’s finding this entire situation entertaining.

“Ask James about what he told Lily.” You say, voice strained with irritation. James sends Sirius a nervous smile, and Sirius looks at him oddly.

"What'd you do?"

Sirius asks, his eyes darting back to you, taking note of your frustrated expression. Your stomach tightens with nerves, scared of Sirius’ reaction. Remus leans back in his chair, excited to see how this will all play out.

"Lily and I were talking today," James sighs, "and she wouldn't stop going on about how she thinks Y/n is in love with me and that it's not fair for me to flirt with her because I could be hurting her."

"She thinks I'm in love with you?" You shriek, oblivious to the barely visible flinch on Sirius' face at James' words. Remus catches it, his grin getting bigger.

James ignores you, “Anyways, I said that it’s not a problem because you and Y/n are dating.” James finishes cautiously, his gaze locked on Sirius, curious for his reaction. Your breath is caught in your throat, your eyes fixed intently on Sirius, awaiting his reaction as well.

"You told Lily that Y/n's my girl?" Sirius inquires casually, causing your stomach to somersault at his words. You force yourself to focus on James instead of the warmth creeping into your skin.

"I panicked, and that's what came out. So, if you guys could pretend you're madly in love, that would be great!" James claps his hands together, and you feel the urge to wack him. You're prepared to snap at him, to explain why asking this of you both isn’t right.

But then Sirius shrugs, "Sure, shouldn't be too hard, right, sweet girl?" He says, and your legs feel like jelly.

You're floundering, not having expected Sirius to agree. He’s never maintained a steady relationship, so pretending that he’s dating you is a big ask. His agreement sends your mind spiraling with different scenarios. For a brief second, you wonder if he agrees so easily because he has feelings for you. But you quickly shut down that thought.

You’re delusional. You truly are.

"Sure, that shouldn't be too bad." You agree, hoping you appear casual about this.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"I need you two to amp it up. Lily is eating breakfast with us today." James directs, causing you to glance up from your breakfast, disbelief etched into your features. He takes a bite of bacon and casually observes you as though his request is perfectly normal.

"We've switched spots, is that not enough for you?" You ask sarcastically, and Remus shakes his head, wearing an entertained smile as he continues eating breakfast. He can tell you're panicking about pretending to be with Sirius; it’s painfully obvious to everyone at the table.

You're usually seated between James and Peter, but when you attempted to slide into the seat this morning, James slammed his hand down on the seat and instructed you to sit next to your boyfriend, wearing a smug smile. Peter snorted softly but quickly replaced it with a sympathetic smile, silently apologizing for his reaction.

"I mean, we all know Sirius is into PDA, and you look terrified to even be sitting next to him." Peter points out, and you find yourself scrabbling.

Were you two supposed to be super affectionate? Would Sirius find it weird if you initiated it? Questions are flooding your mind leaving you feeling overwhelmed.

"I am not terrified. I just don’t know how to act." You insist.

"Act like you’re in love with him; it shouldn’t be too hard, right?" James quips, earning a glare from you. He responds with a playful wink.

"The boys are right. You need to sit closer to me.” Sirius declares as his arm slips around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You squeak his name in surprise, flustered at how easily he moves you. The boys chuckle at your bewildered expression, finding your embarrassment hilarious.

You feel disappointed when he releases you. Even more so when he doesn't pull you flush against him. Instead, your shoulder to shoulder, the distance between you both feeling more pronounced than ever.

"I'm still waiting on the PDA." Remus says with a playful smirk; his eyes are full of mischief when you glance at him.

You elbow Remus in the side, and he playfully nudges you back, causing you to bump into Sirius' side. Sirius surprises you by wrapping his arm around you, keeping you against him while playfully calling out, "Oi, back off, mate." Being pressed against his side causes warmth to spread through you as you lean further into him.

James watches as Sirius's cheeks flush, a soft smile on his face as he gazes down at you. You appear flustered but content, being so close to him, and James can't help but grin at the two of you.

"We're not going to be all over each other." You say, attempting to distract yourself from the fact that you’re pushed up against Sirius.

"Why not?" James leans forward with a grin, clearly finding everything about this entertaining. “That is what most couples do. Plus, Sirius openly flirts with everyone. But he won’t kiss his own girlfriend? It’s not believable.”

“Merlin, we should have talked about this last night.” You mumble under your breath, and Sirius chuckles beside you. He's entirely at ease. It doesn’t seem like he has any worries about pretending to be your boyfriend. With that observation, you try not to let your worries spiral out of control.

"Listen, we can do whatever you're comfortable with. If you don't want to kiss, then we don't have to," Sirius tells you gently, "but it would be sort of odd for us not to be somewhat affectionate."

The last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable. But there's a rush of exhilaration at the thought of holding you close and calling you pet names that were once off-limits. And the thought of possibly kissing you?

Surviving that would be inconceivable for him.

"You're right," You nod. “Let's just start off slow. It will be weird if we're all over each other today when we didn’t even sit together yesterday."

"Yeah, yeah! Flirt, be a little touchy, throw some cute pet names in here, will you, Sirius?" James calls out with great enthusiasm. You send him a look that you hope he understands as shut the fuck up. He doesn’t acknowledge your discomfort. Instead, he makes a heart shape with his hands, which adds to your annoyance.

Sirius presses a quick kiss to your temple, “Fuck off, mate. I know how to flirt with my girlfriend, right baby?” You freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief, while the boys laugh at your reaction. How exactly were you supposed to survive this?

You fall into a comfortable silence, happy to enjoy your breakfast as James issues his warnings to the boys, ensuring they behave themselves. Remus, with a subtle eye roll, acknowledges James's words while Peter nods emphatically in agreement. While, Sirius simply outlines every embarrassing memory he plans to share with Lily.

“Y/n, get your man in check.’ James complains in mock irritation, throwing a grape at Sirius, who dodges it.

"Good morning." Lily greets quietly. You all turn to see her approaching, her expression a mix of embarrassment and hesitance, as if she's debating whether to turn around and go to her usual spot down the table.

James abruptly stands up, his hip thumping into the table. He stifles a wince, trying to maintain his composure as he greets Lily, who tries unsuccessfully to suppress a smile at his reaction. Remus cringes and turns back to his breakfast, unable to look at James.

"Y'ready for this?" Sirius leans in, his voice lowered to a hushed tone meant only for you, effectively pulling you away from eavesdropping on James and Lily's conversation. You glance up at him, surprised to find you’re a mere inches away from him.

You're so close that you could individually count each of his eyelashes if you wanted.

You still feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, creating an intimate connection between the both of you.

It feels like a magnetic pull draws you closer, tempting you to tilt your head forward and touch his lips with yours. The urge to kiss him is so strong that it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.

You clear your throat, attempting to push the thought from your mind. "I think so. We're newly dating, so don't go overboard with it." You remind him, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

“When have I ever gone overboard with anything in my life?” The smile he gives you is teasing, and it makes your heart pound to have him this close, his eyes sparkling as he smiles at you.

You hum softly in response, “I can think of quite a few times.”

His voice carries a flirtatious tone, “Can you?”

“Good morning, Lily.” Peter's gentle voice steals your attention away from Sirius. Disappointment and longing settle in his stomach as he watches you pull away and turn to greet Lily, that sweet smile now directed at her.

Lily settles between Peter and James. For a quick second, you feel a pang of jealousy because that's your spot. But when you notice James's pink cheeks and flustered expression, you forget all about it. All you want for James is for him to be happy, and having Lily near seems to do just that.

Breakfast goes smoothly. Lily fits seamlessly into your group, and you can tell it makes James giddy. He doesn't even mind not getting to talk to Lily much. He simply enjoys seeing the girl he's so hopelessly infatuated with getting along so well with his best friends.

You and Sirius aren't acting much differently than you normally do, just sitting close to each other and chatting. However, when Lily turns to you and Sirius, a wave of nervousness washes over you.

“I was so excited to hear you guys were together!”

"Oh yeah? So you can finally go for James with a clear conscience?" Sirius grins, teasing Lily, who looks thoroughly embarrassed. You nudge Sirius in the side, and he responds by giving your hip a gentle squeeze. James sends Sirius an incredulous look, which he pointedly ignores. While Remus and Peter chuckle at the playful banter.

Lily tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and clears her throat; her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "Uh, no, just that you two have obviously had feelings for each other for years. Everyone knew."

You're at a loss for words. Is that really what people thought? Clearly, they read you right, but you weren’t sure what to think about Sirius having feelings for you. Maybe he did, or maybe they were mistaking it for how he constantly flirted with you. But that was just how Sirius was; it didn’t necessarily mean he had romantic feelings for you.

"Haven't gotten her out of my head since the day I met her." Sirius says casually, his right elbow resting on the table as he pops a piece of bacon into his mouth. His other arm remains securely wrapped around your waist, holding you close to his side with a gentle yet firm embrace.

You look at him in shock, your eyes widening at his unexpected confession. Even the boys look slightly startled at Sirius' words, their eyes darting between you and him.

“That’s so sweet.” Lily says softly, her eyes glowing with genuine happiness as she sends you a warm smile. The sight tugs at your heartstrings but also stirs up guilt in the pit of your stomach. Lying always made you feel uneasy like a weight was pressing down on your chest.

"Sirius, I can't believe you thought that she—" Lily begins, her voice trailing off as James interjects, his interruption tinged with a hint of urgency.

"Okay, love! I think I should walk you to class, don't y' think?" James stands up from the table, extending his hand towards Lily.

Lily looks slightly confused, but she takes his hand nonetheless. As they walk away, James glances back and sends a wink in Sirius' direction. Your attention immediately shifts to Sirius, curiosity written all over your face as you’re about to ask about Lily's interrupted comment.

Sirius cuts you off before you can ask, shaking his head with a gentle smile and flushed cheeks, "Don't even bother asking; I’m not telling you what she was talking about.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You’re curled up next to Peter on the common room couch, both of you chatting quietly together. For the last twenty minutes, he has been feeding you details about the Ravenclaw girl he has a crush on. He's sworn you to secrecy. Hoping for your advice on asking her out without enduring the teasing of the rest of the Marauders. Your gasp of excitement nearly gives away the secret, but you quickly compose yourself, offering a reassuring smile to Peter.

"Who is she?" You ask, excitement laced in your voice, but Peter sends you an apprehensive look.

"I'm going to keep that to myself. Your squeal almost let the boys know.." He teases, though his tone also carries a note of seriousness.

A laugh escapes you, "I promise when you’re ready to tell me I’ll be so careful about keeping it a secret."

"Oi! Are you two sharing secrets over there?" James calls out, his voice immensely curious. He’s sat with his back to the flickering flames, his palms flat against the floor as he leans back on them. Peter tenses beside you, but you maintain an easy smile. Remus and Sirius are lounging in the armchairs nearby, their attention piqued by the exchange.

"All my deepest darkest secrets." You tease, flashing James a grin. He furrows his brow and sits up, clearly riled up by your response.

“Y/n, as your best friend, I better know all these secrets.” James lips are pouted, his expression tinged with a hint of concern, as if he's genuinely worried that you and Peter are sharing secrets that he doesn’t know.

James has always been fiercely protective of your friendship. Despite being close to the boys, your bond with James was stronger. There was nothing that the two of you didn't confide in each other; he honestly did know all your secrets.

“You do.” You smile reassuringly, and James's expression breaks into a satisfied grin.

The boys continue their soft conversation by the crackling fire, the warm glow casting flickering shadows across the room, while you and Peter sit in comfortable silence. Both of you are lost in thought as you relax in the cozy atmosphere.

After stifling a good five yawns, you glance at the time and decide it's probably best to head to your room, the quiet of the common room signaling just how late it had gotten.

You inch closer to Peter, before finding the courage to lean over and envelop him in a friendly hug, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

He's momentarily taken aback, his body tenses at your touch, but soon he relaxes, reciprocating by wrapping you in his arms. It's a gesture that feels somewhat out of character for you, but after he trusted you with his secret, it seems like the most natural thing to do, a silent affirmation of support for him.

"I think I'm going to go to bed." You tell him softly, "But I promise we'll talk more tomorrow."

“I’d like that.” He smiles at you as you pull away. You grab your bag and make your way in the direction of the stairs.

“Goodnight boys!” You call out softly over your shoulder before disappearing up the stairs. Sirius watches you go, his gaze lingering on your figure, his thoughts full of you long after you've left the room.

Ever since you moved to hug Peter, his eyes have been on you, curiosity and jealousy settling in his stomach.

"Why the hell did you get a hug?" Sirius asks, his tone laced with bitterness as his gaze shifts to Peter, who appears taken aback by Sirius’ sudden question. Remus and James exchange amused glances, before they refocus their attention on Peter, waiting expectantly for an explanation to ease the tension.

“I don’t know, she just hugged me.” Peter squirms uncomfortably in his seat, his confidence quickly dwindling as he's put on the spot.

Sirius nods slowly, his lips pursing in contemplation. His carefully measured tone betrays the longing and a hint of possessiveness that he struggles to conceal, "What were you guys talking about over there?"

Remus interjects with a teasing tone, "Careful, Pads. You sound jealous." A playful glint dances in his eyes as he notices Sirius' furrowed brows and the discontent on his face.

“He’s got the boyfriend role down.” James quips, and Sirius sends them both a glare.

“I’m not jealous,” Sirius repeats quite grumpily. “I just don’t understand why Peter got a hug, and we didn’t.”

James barks out a laugh while Remus shakes his head, a chuckle escaping him in sheer disbelief.

"You're jealous because you have feelings for her." James states matter-of-factly.

Sirius begins to shake his head in denial, but Remus promptly interjects, his voice firm and unwavering, "’Haven't gotten her out of my head since the day I met her.’ What the fuck was that then?” Remus repeats Sirius’ words from the other day, perfectly mimicking his tone.

James bursts into laughter, the sound hearty and infectious, while Peter offers a small smile, observing Sirius as he struggles to respond.

“Not to mention, you’ve been staring Peter down ever since Y/n touched him.” Remus remarks while Sirius gazes blankly at him, his expression unreadable as he nervously chews on his bottom lip.

“You really have.” Peter adds with a grimace.

“You like her, mate.” Remus concludes, his words carrying a sense of finality that lingers in the air.

Sirius sighs heavily.

The conversation weighs heavily on him as he sinks down in the armchair, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The boys’ words replay in his mind. He was jealous, and he did like you. He already knew all of this. But he had always been cautious around you, mindful of the unspoken boundaries because of your friendship with James. A nagging worry in the back of his mind that James would be against any relationship between the two of you. James was his greatest friend, and he worried he could lose him if he attempted to go for you. The idea of James being unfazed by a romantic relationship between you and Sirius threw him off balance. It vastly differed from the scenarios he had envisioned, where James would react with fierce anger upon learning of Sirius' affection for you. The realization left Sirius feeling torn. Did that mean he could actually go for you?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

As the air is warm and balmy, birdsong emanating from the trees while the leaves rustle in the gentle breeze. The sun casts everything in a golden haze, letting you know summer is near. The boys are certain of their decision: today is the perfect day to spend at the lake.

Laughter and chatter echo across the shimmering waters as the boys swim around the lake, reaching where you’re draped over a soft towel next to Lily. You have been trading gossip back and forth for the last couple of hours. It’s refreshing since usually you’re glued to the boys’ sides. You were constantly in the company of at least one of the four.

You feel a twinge of regret in your chest, realizing you haven't made an effort to have a close friendship with the girls. And you really should have. It wasn't a deliberate choice; James had always been your go-to person. Then, when you met the boys, you naturally formed close bonds with them, too. The thought of branching out and making more friends never really crossed your mind.

Though you value your friendships with the boys, you decide you desperately need to spend more time with the girls. The possibility of James and Lily getting together has you hopeful.

“You realize Sirius can’t take his eyes off you, right?” You choose to remain silent, only giving a shrug, fully aware that Sirius is merely pretending to be in love with you. To his credit, he's played the part convincingly throughout the entire week. There have been moments when you've found yourself questioning the authenticity of his actions, wondering whether his affection is genuine or merely his acting skills.

For someone who hasn’t had much practice with relationships, he possessed an innate ability to treat you like you were the only girl in his world. Whether it was a reassuring hand on your lower back as you maneuvered through the crowded halls, a tender kiss planted on your forehead when you parted ways, or the subtle exchange of flirty smiles whenever your eyes met across the room.

Sirius' laughter drifts over from the lake, reaching your ears, and a subconscious smile graces your lips. Lily must have seen your reaction, “Merlin, you really like him, don’t you?”

It was driving you to the brink of obsession. If this was the experience of being Sirius' girl, you wanted it more than before.

Despite your efforts to contain it, a sigh slips from your lips, "Yeah, I really do."

Confessing this feels uncomfortable. You've never talked to anyone about the depth of your feelings for Sirius, and now you're doing so under the guise of a fake relationship. You had come close to telling James, but you really didn’t need to. He had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book. Guilt churns in your stomach once more as you think about lying to Lily. What will her reaction be when you reveal that you and Sirius were never actually together?

The silence lingers for a few moments before you gently break it, "What were you about to say at breakfast the other day? Before James interrupted?"

Lily's expression shifts from confusion to excitement, her eyes lighting up, “Oh, in Charms! I finally wrangled it out of Sirius that he had feelings for you. But he insisted that nothing was ever going to happen because you didn’t like him back.”

It feels like you've been plunged into a tub of cold water. Your mind goes momentarily blank, a surge of disbelief flooding your senses as you struggle to comprehend Lily's words. Your body freezes in place, grappling with what this could possibly mean. There’s no possible way you heard her correctly.

“What? When was this?” Your voice escapes breathless and startled, yet Lily appears oblivious to it.

“Just a couple of weeks ago! I’m so glad he finally told you how he felt.” Lily smiles sweetly before laying back on her towel. If she notices you’re in a state of shock, she doesn’t say anything.

You hear a whistle, and no surprise, your best friend throws himself between you and Lily, “Don’t you two look pretty!”

Lily gasps as James leans down, playfully pressing his lips against her cheek, his hair dripping water onto her. Though she protests, you both can tell she doesn't truly mind it.

As James and Lily become wrapped up in their own world, you find yourself drifting back to the conversation from a moment ago. Your mind spins, still muddled by Lily's words. Sirius had feelings for you. Why hadn't he spoken up? Did he not want anything to come of it?

Your heart nearly stops when Sirius drops down and hovers over you, his hands propping him up on either side of your head. You barely register that he's shirtless and above you just before icy water cascades from his hair onto your skin. A startled cry escapes you as the cold droplets trickle down your cheeks, tracing a chilling path along your neck and chest.

“Sirius Black!” You had intended to sound angry, but laughter slips past your lips, betraying your emotions. Sirius grins at your reaction, his eyes trailing down from your eyes to shamelessly check out the bikini top you have on.

The boys had been teasing him relentlessly after witnessing how he practically fell to his knees when you walked into the common room wearing a bikini top and tiny denim shorts. You were oblivious to his gaze, heading straight for Lily and conversing about who knows what.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from you all day.

He feigns ignorance as you whine at him, responding with a sweet smile instead, “What, sweet girl?”

"Get off!" You squeal, though your tone lacks any real irritation. Deep down, you’re secretly enjoying having him so close, enveloping you in his presence.

“Whatever you want, sweet girl.” He mutters as he rolls off of you, repositioning himself so he's sitting behind you. With a gentle tap on your shoulder, he prompts you to sit up, then guides you until your back hits his chest. Once you're settled, he loosely wraps his arms around your shoulders before placing a kiss on your head.

Remus catches your eye as he and Peter make their way to their towels. Unlike Sirius and James, they hadn't hurried over to you and Lily. Instead, they took their time, chatting lazily while the sun warmed their skin. Remus sends you a sly, suggestive glance, and you respond by narrowing your eyes at him playfully.

Sirius and Remus engage in their own conversation, their voices blending into the background as Peter gestures for you to follow him. Sirius protests lightly, his eyes following you as you pull away from him to walk down to the lake with Peter.

You're gone for no more than twenty minutes, offering Peter advice on establishing a friendship with the girl he likes, perhaps making it easier for him to ask her out in the future.

Despite Remus' attempts to draw him back into the conversation, Sirius remains preoccupied, his gaze fixed on you until you eventually return and settle onto the towel beside him, seeking the familiar comfort of his presence. Only then does Sirius relax, draping his arm around you protectively.

He despises the twinge of jealousy that creeps in every time Peter has you to himself.

“Mate, you’re fucked.” Remus chuckles, and you assume it's due to something amusing said during their conversation. Sirius simply rolls his eyes and playfully extends his middle finger in Remus' direction, a gesture of mock annoyance that elicits a smirk from both of them.

The rest of the afternoon is spent wrapped up in Sirius as you chat with your friends and bask in the sun.

You spend the remainder of the afternoon draped over Sirius, basking in the warmth of the sun as you chat with your friends. It's been a while since you've felt so at ease.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After lounging by the lake all afternoon, the thought of cleaning up for a party you had little interest in attending felt like an unnecessary chore. However, after an hour of James' persistent pleading, you eventually gave in and agreed to go. You were confused about why he insisted on your presence, especially when he'd be busy spending the evening with Lily. You couldn't help but think you could have been snug in bed with a good book instead.

“How long do you think it will take before they get together?” You turn to Remus, who is leaning against the wall next to you. He wasn't thrilled about coming tonight, either. The full moon was approaching, and he could already feel the effects beginning to take hold.

You scan the bustling room, eager to catch a glimpse of James and determine Lily's proximity. Impatience simmers within you as you wait for them to get together. Their relationship seems overdue, and you’re desperate for it to happen, bringing an end to the relationship you and Sirius are forced to maintain. Though being Sirius' girlfriend has its perks, the artificiality of the situation weighs on your conscience.

After a lazy afternoon enveloped in Sirius' arms, you had returned to your room feeling unsettled. The comfort of being held by Sirius felt genuine, yet it was all fake, and that realization deeply unsettles you. The longer this relationship goes on, the more you worry about your heart being left in pieces at the end.

“Probably any day now. Why? You aren’t having fun being Sirius’ girl?” Remus asks, casting a knowing smirk in your direction. You huff and give him a playful nudge, causing his drink to slosh around in his cup. He chuckles in response, amused by your reaction.

"It's not that, and you know it." You respond, frustration evident in your tone.

Remus turns towards you, a genuine smile on his face this time, "You guys are doing quite the job of looking infatuated with each other."

You shoot him a warning look, sensing where the conversation is headed.

But Remus persists, his gaze steady, "You should consider telling him how you feel."

You scoff. "Absolutely not."

"Why not? What have you got to lose?"

You meet his gaze, incredulous, "Our friendship, for starters."

Remus shakes his head, "Do you really think Sirius would end your friendship? I doubt you could get rid of him if you tried."

You meet Remus's gaze, your brow furrowed with uncertainty, "Okay, maybe he wouldn't end our friendship. But things would definitely get awkward, and who knows where it could lead."

Remus offers a small smile, "Or it could go well. You could end up together."

You remain silent, the weight of Remus's words sinking in as you contemplate the idea of confessing your feelings to Sirius. Your stomach churns with anxiety at the mere thought of opening up to him. The fear of rejection and the potential fallout from confessing weighs heavy on your chest.

But Lily had shared with you that Sirius had opened up about his feelings for you. Maybe there was a possibility that confessing your own feelings might not be as far-fetched as you had assumed. Maybe being with Sirius wasn't entirely out of reach.

Remus observes the slight furrow in your brow as you chew on your bottom lip, a clear indication of your spiraling thoughts. The dim light of the common room highlights the unease on your face. "Do you want a drink?" He offers, his voice gentle and reassuring.

You pause, considering his offer, grateful for the distraction, "Yes, please." You respond with a small smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.

As Remus leaves to fetch you a drink, you're left alone with your thoughts, the chatter and laughter of the crowded common room serving as a backdrop to your contemplation. Your eyes wander over the sea of bodies, each occupied with their own conversations and activities, creating a lively yet chaotic atmosphere.

“Y/n, hi!” You startle as Max Townsend stands beside you, his sudden presence catching you off guard. You recall being partners in Charms a couple of weeks ago, but beyond that, your interactions had been limited.

"Hey, Max." You greet with a soft smile, noticing how his shoulders relax slightly at your acknowledgment. He settles against the wall, his posture casual yet attentive, as if genuinely interested in chatting with you.

"I know we haven’t talked much since Charms, but I’ve been meaning to catch up with you." Max says, his voice earnest as he breaks the silence between you.

You're surprised by his remark, "You have?" You ask, genuine curiosity coloring your tone.

"Yeah! I enjoyed spending time with you." Max admits, his voice slightly shaky as he offers you a shy smile. You notice the faint blush coloring his cheeks, a sign of nervousness.

"I enjoyed spending time with you too! I don’t think I could have passed the last exam without your help." You respond sincerely, returning his smile with warmth. His face lights up at your words, visibly relieved.

He regains some confidence and continues, "Actually, Y/n, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade sometime?"

Your smile falters, and you feel a pang of guilt. You have the excuse of having a boyfriend, at least. It makes things a little easier for you. For a second, you debate if you should say yes, go on a date, and move past your feelings for Sirius. But then you think about Lily‘s words and how he might possibly like you back. Not only that but you’re supposed to be in a relationship right now.

You can't bring yourself to say yes; truth be told, you don't really want to, anyway.

"That’s really sweet of you to ask. But I’m dating Sirius." You reply though the words feel heavy on your tongue, wishing they were true.

Max looks taken aback, "Sirius Black?"

"Yes." You confirm, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over you; turning someone down is always an awkward and uncomfortable experience.

Max shakes his head, looking confused, "I didn’t know Sirius-"

"You didn’t know what, Townsend?" Sirius looks hard at him, slipping his arm around your waist and handing you a drink. "Here, baby, Rem said you wanted a drink."

You thank him quietly, settling into his side with ease. Glancing up at him, you notice Sirius isn't looking at you; his gaze is fixed on Max. His jaw clenches tightly, and his usual friendly smile is absent. The message to Max is clear: back off, she's mine.

Max looks uneasy, eyes darting from you to Sirius, “Uh, I didn’t know you and Y/n were together.”

“And why were you talking about that?”

“Uh,” Max looks at you briefly, his expression tinged with panic. He lets out a sigh, reminiscent of a child caught in the act and resigned to confessing. “I asked her out.”

Sirius' entire body tenses, his tone laced with mock curiosity, “Did you?”

He feels sick at the thought of you going on a date with another guy. Images flash through his mind – Max holding your hand on a walk through Hogsmeade, flirting with you over dinner, and the possibility of him kissing you goodnight before you head back through the portrait at the end of the night.

A surge of intense emotion floods him, an overwhelming desire to lash out, to throw a punch and convey the unmistakable message that you are off-limits.

But then the reality hits him: you're not off limits. You're perfectly single, and maybe you actually wanted to go out with Max. The realization sinks in, gnawing at him from the inside, intensifying the ache in his chest.

“But look, man, I didn’t know she was your girl! Honest.”

"Max, it's okay. Really." You interject gently, offering him a reassuring smile. Max nods frantically, clearly relieved, before hurrying off in the opposite direction and disappearing into the crowd of Gryffindors.

“What the hell was that?” You turn to Sirius, but he refuses to meet your gaze. Instead, he drops his arm from your waist and leans back against the wall, taking a long sip from his drink, his expression unreadable

“Playing the part of your boyfriend. You should go find James, he was looking for you.” His mutterings reach your ears, and your stomach clenches with irritation as hurt flashes over your features. He's never shut down before you, and it hurts your feelings deeply.

You don’t bother saying anything; instead, you scoff and walk away. Sirius’s eyes follow you the second you leave, watching as you walk away with a heavy feeling settling in his stomach.

Maybe he did need to express his feelings to you. There might be a chance that you felt the same way. And if you didn't, at least he would know and could attempt to move on from you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I think you need to check on Sirius.” James murmurs into your ear as you stand in the common room, waiting for Lily to join you. You're flanked by the boys, but Sirius is conspicuously absent.

You glance over at him, confused, “Why? Is he not coming down?”

“He bailed, said he isn’t feeling good.”

“He isn’t coming to Hogsmeade with us?” You all had meticulously planned your trip to Hogsmeade during the lake outing yesterday, discussing the shops you wanted to visit and the Butterbeer you couldn't wait to taste.

“Oh,” You mutter, “I’ll check on him and catch up with you guys then.”

You still harbor concern for his well-being, a lingering sense of care that remains despite the the frustration you feel about last night. You ascend the stairs, faintly catching Peter's inquiry about your destination and James' response that you won't be joining them anymore. You contemplate turning around, half-tempted to inquire with James about his statement, but decided against it, choosing not to waste your energy.

You're so deeply immersed in your thoughts as you walk through the hall that you don't even notice the sound at first.

The muffled noise filtering through the boys' dorm door catches your attention, causing you to pause in front of the door. You briefly entertain the idea that Sirius might be genuinely unwell, but skepticism lingers in your mind. The persistent groans don't quite fit the pattern of someone who's just sick.

You were on the verge of turning around, genuinely considering it, until you caught a muffled moan that distinctly sounded like your name.

You pause, questioning the authenticity of what you just heard, wondering if it was a figment of your imagination or if you truly heard your name. But then you hear it, “Fuck, Y/n. Feels so good.”

Your legs turn to jelly, the words coursing through your veins like an electric shock, leaving you feeling stunned and breathless.

Without a second thought or even a plan forming in your mind, you find yourself knocking on the door. Inside, you hear a muffled curse followed by shuffling before Sirius swings the door open nearly a minute later, clad only in pajama pants. His hair is tousled, his cheeks flushed, and he's breathing heavily. The surprise on his face is evident as he takes in your unexpected presence.

“What were you just doing?” Your words spill out more confrontationally than you intended, catching Sirius off guard. The surprise flickers across his face, evident in how his eyebrows knit together and his eyes widen slightly.

“Uh, I-” He glances back into his room, searching for a believable excuse among his belongings. Flustered, he struggles to come up with a convincing lie.

"Sirius," You press, and his eyes flicker back to you. He appears guilty, aware that you've caught on. "I just heard you." You add, your tone that is firm but not accusatory.

“Merlin, Y/n. I’m sorry I-” He stammers, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach at the mere thought of you possibly feeling disgusted with him or worse, refusing to remain his friend because of what he’s just done.

“What were you thinking about?” You ask instead, taking a deliberate step closer to him. The room feels charged with tension, and you can sense Sirius's unease. His breath hitches as your presence draws nearer, his eyes flickering with a mix of apprehension and anticipation.

He glances over your shoulder, his gaze flicking to the empty hallway outside before he answers, “You.”

“Me?” You take a tentative step closer, your voice barely a whisper compared to before, its tone huskier, laden with curiosity and perhaps a hint of intrigue. You fix him with a daring look, a glint of challenge in your eye, as if silently daring him to take action.

He remains silent, his gaze fixed on you for a fleeting moment before he takes action, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the dorm without a word.

As soon as the door shuts, he presses you against the door, his movements swift and urgent. You let out a gasp in surprise, feeling the sudden shift in atmosphere as Sirius's intensity envelops you. His eyes, usually filled with mischief, now bore into yours with a mixture of seriousness and vulnerability.

“Y/n. Why did you knock on the door?”

You don’t answer at first, your eyes locked with his for a few heartbeats before you let out a sigh, “Because I heard you say my name, and now I know you want me the same way that I’ve always wanted you.”

Sirius doesn’t hesitate, his lips meeting yours with a sense of urgency that sends a shiver down your spine. The moment his touch connects with yours, you exhale softly, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours. With gentle pressure, you draw him closer, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while Sirius’ embrace envelops you, pulling you closer as if he never wants to let go.

He initiates with a tender kiss on your lips, then gently nibbles on your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp. Seizing the opportunity of your parted lips, he intensifies the kiss, pressing forcefully into your mouth. Sirius kisses you as if each moment is the first and last time, molding you into pliancy. You willingly surrender, allowing him to kiss you into a state of blissful oblivion.

As he withdraws, a soft whimper escapes your lips in protest. He casts a questioning glance your way as he lifts the hem of your shirt, and you respond with a nod of affirmation. Slowly, he peels it off of you and lets it drop at your feet. Shamelessly, he admires your breasts and how they sit so pretty in your black bra. For a moment, the thought of apologizing for the simple garment crosses your mind, but the way his gaze lingers on you halts any inclination to do so.

He leans down, pressing kisses and nipping at the exposed skin on your neck and trailing his way down to your chest. It steals your breath away, prompting you to weave your fingers through his hair as you tilt your head back, reveling in the sensation. He's murmuring praises against your skin, ranting about how beautiful you are, how sweet your moans are, and how you drive him crazy. Your heart pounds within your chest, and for an instant, you fear its thunderous rhythm might betray you, considering how near he stands.

“Take it off.” In a hushed tone, you speak, prompting Sirius's gaze to swiftly rise and lock with yours.

He encircles you with his arms, quickly undoing your bra, and you deftly push the straps down, allowing the garment to cascade down, unveiling your skin. Swiftly, you toss it into the growing pile that appears to be taking shape by the door.

Sirius gazes intently, his bottom lip captured between his teeth, and a subtle furrow forms between his eyebrows, “Fucking hell, y’have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”

Before you can utter a word, his mouth is on your breasts. Pressing the softest kisses onto your nipple before gently biting it, causing your breath to hitch. He bends down, mirroring the gesture with the other one.

His hands, possessively grip at your hips, act as anchors, momentarily keeping you in place. However, a growing restlessness takes hold, and you start to squirm, a subtle plea for more of his attention. Silently comprehending your unspoken desire, he wordlessly responds. A gentle tug on your hand is all the communication needed, and without a moment's hesitation, you obediently follow his lead.

Guiding you, he directs you to settle onto his bed, a silent request you readily heed. Your legs dangle over the edge of the bed as you rely on your elbows to bear all your weight.

Sirius kneels in front of you, easily slipping off both of your shoes and tossing them to the side. He reaches up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your skirt before tugging it down and off of your legs. You’re left in a pair of gray panties that easily show how soaked you are for him.

He pushes on your knees until your legs are completely spread for him, and he can get a clear view of your soaked underwear. A hushed curse escapes his lips, the words slipping out quietly as his gaze lingers on you.

“You’re fucking stunning. I don’t know what I did to deserve this. To deserve you.” You bask in his words, your body thrumming with warmth and delight as his sweet sentiments wash over you.

He glances up at you, and he nearly loses it right then and there. You’re watching him through hooded eyes, your pupils dilated wide, a silent reflection of your anticipation and desire. He doubts he could ever erase the image of the way you're gazing at him, etching it into his memory with the fervent wish to witness it for the rest of his days.

He caresses his hands along your thighs, fingers gently squeezing and kneading with each pass. Occasionally, he leans down, planting tender kisses on your sensitive skin, each one a whispered promise of affection. The closer he gets to your core, the more you squirm and let out soft whimpers.

“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, glancing up at you from between your thighs. The pad of his thumb brushes against your clit, and you jolt in surprise.

A gasp escapes your lips as you're overtaken by the sensation, yet swiftly, you find yourself nodding frantically in response, “Please.”

Overrun with desperation, Sirius pulls at them with such fervor that they nearly tear as he tugs them off. You can't help but giggle at his fervor, amused by his frantic actions and the unmistakable look of pure desire written across his face. He wouldn't be surprised if he was drooling, staring the sight of your glistening pussy.

“I want to be inside of you.” He declares, standing up from the floor, leaning over you to firmly grasp your jaw before capturing your lips in a heady, intoxicating kiss. The moan that escapes you sounds so foreign, so unlike yourself, that it catches you by surprise, leaving you momentarily taken aback. You don't bother vying for dominance, allowing him to take control of the kiss. He withdraws from you leaving your chest heaving and breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Take your pants off.” You demand, reaching desperately for the band of his pajamas to shove them off. Sirius beats you to the task, swiftly shoving them off himself in a display of impatience.

“Sirius.” Drool pools in your mouth at the sight of him. Long, thick, and pretty. Your lips part slightly, and you look up at Sirius in surprise, caught off guard by him. For a fleeting moment, you sit there, eyes locked, contemplating whether you'll be able to take him or not. He’s bigger than anyone you have ever been with before.

Sirius doesn’t let you stare for too long before his fingers are sliding through your soaked folds and brushing over your clit. Whimpers and moans tumble past your lips as Sirius rubs firm circles over you to get you adjusted before dipping down and pressing two fingers into you. A cry escapes you at the intrusion, and your hand instinctively reaches down to grip his bicep firmly.

Sirius startles you by leaning down and pressing the softest kiss to your clit, before licking you the bundle of nerves softly. Your body tenses with pleasure, hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

“I’ve always wanted to taste you.” He confesses a surge of heat courses through your body, igniting every nerve ending as you absorb his words. He doesn’t waste another second before leaning down and gently sucking on your clit.

"Please don't stop." You plead softly, and Sirius complies, continuing with unwavering determination. He nips and sucks, licking through your folds and holding your thighs open for him. His fingers continue to slide in and out of you; the sounds you’re making are obscene.

You’re struck by the thojught that this doesn't compare to any other times that you’ve been eaten out. But maybe it's not just his technique that feels good; it might be the fact that its Sirius who’s between your legs.

Your thighs tremble, and a euphoric sensation begins to build up in your stomach, making it feel like you are floating on a delightful high.

“Sirius, I need you.” You gasp sharply, your fingers instinctively tugging on his hair, signaling for him to ease up. You wanted to come together for your first time, as cheesy as it may have been.

As he rises to his feet, your eyes meet, and contagious, goofy smiles spread across both of your faces. In this shared moment, a mutual understanding passes between you—acknowledging the absurdity of the situation yet reveling in the fact that there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

You watch as he wraps his hand around himself, dragging his hand up and down a few times. He whispers for you to scoot back until your head rests against the pillow, and with a gentle nod, you comply. He follows suit, settling on his haunches before you, creating a comforting, intimate space between you both.

“Y’ready?” He asks in a hushed tone, leaning in to hover over you, and at that moment, a rush of memories floods your mind, reminiscent of yesterday by the lake. You're convinced you must look rather pathetic with the speed of your nod, but Sirius only responds with a sweet smile.

With a grip on his cock, he slides the tip through your slick, both of you sucking in a breath at the sensation. He gently pushes at your entrance. Sirius steals a glance up at you, silently seeking reassurance, and you respond with a simple nod and a warm smile, letting him know that everything is perfect. Sirius catches you off guard as he leans down, tenderly pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips, a gesture filled with unexpected sweetness.

His gaze shifts, watching as he pushes his cock inside of you, letting out a string of curses as your pussy grips him tight, pulling him deeper inside.

“Fuck,” Gritting his teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing deeply through his nose, determined to regain control and prevent himself from losing composure. He’s sitting fully inside you, and he has to take a breather because you feel better than he could have ever imagined. The last thing he wants is for this to end as soon as it begins.

His voice sounds utterly shattered, “You’re so wet, fuck.”

You entwine your fingers in his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingertips as you pull him closer, urging him to meet your lips with his own. The anticipation builds as his warm breath mingles with yours, creating an intimate connection before the gentle press of his lips against yours. Parting your lips, you deepen the kiss, and Sirius eagerly reciprocated.

“Sirius. Fuck me, please.” You exhale softly against his lips, and Sirius responds with a low, guttural groan of longing and desire.

He doesn’t waste any time before dragging his cock along the sensitive walls of your pussy, before thrusting back into you, “God, your pussy feels incredible.” The cry that escapes you resonates loudly in the room, and you're immensely grateful that everyone is out at Hogsmeade. The absence of others allows you the freedom to be as uninhibited as you are, knowing that the full dorms would never afford you the same level of privacy and volume.

“Feels so good.” You gasp, head rolling to the side, your cheek resting against the pillows. Sirius’ hands rest against the back of your thighs, holding your legs against your chest, giving a clear view of the way his cock is so seamlessly slipping inside of you.

He watches you, transfixed on the way your brows pinch together in pleasure, lips parting to let moans slip past. It's as if a dam has burst within Sirius, an unstoppable torrent of words and emotions pouring forth as he finds himself unable to contain everything he's been holding back.

“Fuck, you sound s’pretty, sweet girl,” The groan that leaves his lips is downright sinful. “Thought about this pretty pussy all day. Pretended to be sick just to get off to the thought of you.”

“Sirius.” You whine, reaching out to thread your fingers through his hair and pull him down to you. You’re soaked and aching, desperate for Sirius to fuck you faster. However, much to your disappointment, he remains insistent on maintaining a slow, teasing pace.

“Pictured, tugging that fucking bikini top down. Watching your tits bounce while I fuck you. Fuck, cumming all over them.” The whine that escapes you feels pathetic, and under different circumstances, you would've been embarrassed by it. However, given the situation you're in, embarrassment takes a backseat.

“I know, baby. I know.” He complies, adjusting his position so that his right arm supports him above you while his left hand gently traces your skin. Brushing over your nipples, trailing up and over your tits, before placing his hand loosely around the base of your throat.

“You’re fucking perfect,” He grunts, admiring how ruined you look for him. Your mascara smudged beneath your eyes from tears, and your lips swollen from his earlier kisses. He loved seeing you like this. Being the one to ruin you, to smudge your makeup and bring you to tears. “Taking my cock s’well.”

You’re incoherent, begging for Sirius to go harder, to fuck you faster. Hands pawing at his ass, desperately trying to bring him closer.

His hand squeezes your throat gently, “Tell me you want me to fuck you harder. C’mon love, wanna hear you beg for it.”

A smug grin tugs on Sirius’ lips as he watches you struggling to form words. You’re getting close if the way you’re squeezing him so tight and rolling your hips is any indicator.

But then a desperate, needy whine with the words he so badly wants to hear slips past your lips. Babbling about needing his cock and wanting him to ruin you. The second he hears your pleas, he thrusts into you harder, setting a brutal new pace that has you crying for him.

“I’ll give you anything you ask for, m’love.” He speaks so sincerely that you feel a surge of emotions welling up inside, an overwhelming urge threatening to bring tears to your eyes.

Overcome with your emotions, you reach for Sirius’ hand and interlace them together before Sirius presses your clasped hands into the sheets. His headboard thumps against the wall rhythmically.

“Need you to fill me up. Please.” You plead desperately, and Sirius curses, his voice rough and strained.

“Shit, that’s my girl. Want me to fill you with my cum?” It's the praise that pushes you over the edge. Your back arches, pressing your breasts into Sirius’ chest and your legs tremble.

“Doing so good f’me.” He’s close behind you. Your tight, wet walls clenching around him is what does it for him.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. Fuck.” Sirius moans, burying his head in the crook of your neck as his hips stutter and you cry out at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up. You clench his hand tightly, your nails likely leaving imprints on his skin. A sob escapes your lips, and your fingers weave through his hair, a desperate attempt to draw him closer.

You both remain entwined, lost in each other's embrace as you gradually come down from the euphoric highs. The room resonates with the sound of your intertwined breaths, each one heavy and labored. Your body feels utterly slack, every muscle loosened, and you're so relaxed that you could easily doze off at any moment.

Sirius presses a couple of tender kisses against your neck, eliciting a satisfied hum from you. When he withdraws from you, a wince escapes you as you feel the separation, and Sirius’ eyes dart up to you in concern.

“Y’okay, sweet girl?”

“I’m okay, just sore.” You grace him with a sweet smile, and Sirius leans in, gently pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Gonna get a towel, one second.” He assures you, rising from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. You listen to the faucet running and the faint sounds of the cupboard opening and closing. Lying back, you gaze up at the ceiling, absently nibbling on your thumbnail until a smile breaks across your face at the thought of what just happened.

“Here, love.” Sirius says, sitting on the edge of the bed holding a washcloth in his hand. He’s got a fresh pair of pajama pants on, you didn’t even notice him grab clothes from his trunk, too lost in your thoughts.

Sirius gently grips your ankle, encouraging you to spread your legs. His breath hitches at the sight of his cum dripping out of you and onto his sheets, desperately hoping to see this sight again. He murmurs a curse under his breath, his touch gentle as he delicately uses the warm washcloth to clean between your thighs.

“There.” He whispers softly before aiding you to sit up. As you glance over, you notice the t-shirt and pajama pants laid out beside him, meant for you. Your heart swells with warmth as he assists you in slipping it over your head. With a grateful smile, you slide into the pajama pants. Meanwhile, Sirius utters evanesco to fix the sheets up, before joining you in bed.

“C’mere.” He beckons to you, sinking into the pillows, and you nestle against him, finding solace as you rest your head on his chest.

In the silence, you both relish the comfort of each other's embrace, enveloped in a cocoon of intimacy. Lost in contemplation, your mind wanders, grappling with what just happened and what that meant for the both of you.

"That wasn't just a one-time thing, was it?" You inquire, the hopefulness evident in your tone.

"No," Sirius responds, tilting your chin so you can meet his gaze. "I want you to be mine, for real this time."

The fluttering butterflies that dance through your stomach are overwhelming as you absorb his words. A lovesick grin spreads across your lips, unable to contain the rush of emotions coursing through you, “Then I'm all yours."

You settle back into Sirius, and his arms hold you against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head lull you into a serene state, the sound of his steady heartbeat serving as a soothing lullaby that guides you into a peaceful sleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"I'm sorry, so you asked us to fake it not for Lily, but for Sirius and I to get together?" You gaze at James, confused, knitting your brows, while he sits opposite you at the table. Remus and Sirius are absorbed in their own conversation, and Peter is having breakfast with the girl he harbors a crush on. Despite their current status as friends, Peter seems overjoyed nonetheless.

James grins, casting you a smug look. "I mean, Lily genuinely thought you and I were a thing. At first, it really was because Lily thought we were together, but then I realized that this was the perfect way to get you and Sirius together.”

“James! So you lied to us?” You huff in disbelief.

James shrugs nonchalantly, his demeanor radiating an air of casual indifference, “You already knew I lied to Lily; what’s the difference?”

You sigh softly, "That's true, but what about you and Lily? Are you two getting together?"

James smiles, “We’ll get there eventually. This was more about you and Sirius. And before you start, yes, I’ll tell her the truth.” He sends you a pointed look, and you chuckle, already preparing to remind him to come clean to Lily.

"You're certifiably insane." You tease, exhaling a laugh.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it? You got the guy.” James watches with delight as a lovesick smile effortlessly graces your face before you steal a glance at Sirius.

"Oh, hey. Pick up your clothes next time you're napping with Sirius," He remarks casually, but the emphasis on the word napping lets you know that he's fully aware there was more happening than just sleep. "My shoe got tangled in your bra."

[bbygirl-aemond]

okay now that i've slept on this episode (and watched the behind the scenes) i want to talk more about this idea of rhaenyra as a cult leader who has completely drunk her own kool-aid. it's an a+ development for her character and i truly hope the writers continue to lean into it further.

hotd has built up this idea of dragons being a conduit for the divine from the very beginning of season one, when viserys and rhaenyra talk about how the targaryen's perceived proximity to the gods comes via their control of dragons. earlier in season two we also heard the smallfolk describe the dragons as invulnerable gods during the parading of meleys's head. this is a deliberate narrative that the targaryens have cultivated (as jace pointed out) to provide themselves with a divine mandate to justify their rule.

this idea of the dragons as a divine mandate is beginning to intersect with the conqueror's dream for rhaenyra in a fascinating way. rhaenyra has always placed more importance on the conqueror's dream than, say, daemon or jace, but this episode goes much further, and is full of rhaenyra talking about being given signs and instructions from the gods. i think addam claiming seasmoke was a transformation for her- she was smiling and had this look of near elation once he claimed her as queen.

i think she genuinely believes that the gods broke the rules of dragon claiming in order to give her a loyal dragon rider right when she needed one. we then see this same elated smile again when she successfully brings vermithor to heel.

each of these little moments is something she takes as confirmation that she's being aided by the gods. this is why she is so convinced that the dragon seeds who claim vermithor and silverwing will be loyal to her- she has convinced herself that all of this is the gods signaling to her and that they will bring her loyal dragon riders the way they brought her addam. the dragon tamers point out what rhaenyra is not willing to acknowledge; these are not true signs from the gods, but things that rhaenyra herself is reading into and arranging for herself. she is seeing what she wants to see. and this will be proven true when hugh and ulf betray rhaenyra, likely due to rhaenyra's own actions in locking the dragonseeds in to die. they were not loyal believers sent from the gods to serve her; they were just men, and she's given them the fantasy equivalent of nuclear missiles.

a large part of this belief in divine validation is definitely due to rhaenyra's own deep seated insecurity due to viserys neglecting her in her childhood and her small council not taking her seriously enough, but i also think this is a coping mechanism on rhaenyra's part. she has no choice but to lean into this war as fully as she can now, to describe herself as helpless in the wake of what the gods have set before her, because she needs her losses to mean something. she needs visenya's death and luke's death to mean something. she needs the loss of her relationship with alicent to mean something.

but in doing this, she is already beginning to push others away from her. she has lost the support of the dragon tamers, and she has also pushed away jace; when he confronted her about a valid concern about how this would make his own ascension even more fraught, she just parroted more of that divine mandate nonsense back to him, which he is clearly not buying. i'll be curious to see how much deeper she falls into this cultish spiral and how much more it costs her.

[edenesth]

ATEEZ as Hogwarts Students

Pairing(s): hogwarts student!ateez x hogwarts student!reader

Word Count: 9.8k

A/N: Oh my gosh, thank you all so much for helping me reach 2.3k followers! To celebrate this, I'm back again with another one of these! Once again, special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for helping me confirm which houses some of the members should be in💘

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Hongjoong ↠ Gryffindor

The Poor Prefect That Nobody Takes Seriously

"I swear to god, if I see another damn chocolate frog loose in the dorm, I'll—" Before Hongjoong could even finish, a cheeky first-year passing by stuck his tongue out at him. "What are you gonna do? Run off to cry to Professor McGonagall again?"

The seventh-year's jaw dropped, his blood pressure spiking, but the kid was gone before he could even scold him. Two years—he'd been a prefect for almost two years now, and still, no one ever took him seriously. Thinking back to his early days as an optimistic prefect, eager to bring order and discipline to his rowdy housemates, he knew now how impossible that dream was.

But was he going to stop trying?

Not a damn chance.

Hongjoong had chosen to become a prefect the very moment he was eligible in his fifth year. Professors had always praised him as reliable, a natural-born leader, and he'd believed that wholeheartedly. He'd pictured himself bringing order to his dormitory, respected by his housemates for his efforts to keep things in line. But the reality? Gryffindors, as he was learning, could be a lot harder to control than he ever expected.

Unfortunately, his "small but mighty" reputation didn't exactly translate into authority. He'd start off with a firm tone, reminding them of the rules, only to watch them twist his words into a rallying cry for their next scheme. His attempts at seriousness somehow only fueled their chaotic Gryffindor spirits, making him seem more like a mascot for daring antics than a figure of discipline.

While the academic staff continued to commend his commitment, his classmates saw him as the "cool" prefect—the one who'd cover for them more often than not, a little too forgiving to actually be feared. Some nights, he'd even find himself dragged into the very pranks he was supposed to be preventing, swept up by the contagious energy of his friends.

Despite everything, Hongjoong couldn't bring himself to truly give up. Every morning, he'd tell himself that today was the day he'd put his foot down, that he'd be the prefect his professors always said he could be. He knew the odds weren't in his favour, but in true Gryffindor fashion, he wasn't about to back down from the challenge.

Today's the day—I can feel it in my bones.

Letting out a determined breath, Hongjoong's gaze fixed on the notice board, now littered with doodles, silly notes, and questionable "decorations." With a purposeful nod, he crossed his arms and cleared his throat, catching the attention of the Gryffindors lounging around the common room. "Forget the frogs then. How many times have I told you all not to vandalise the notice board with your nonsense? It's used solely for—"

"For important announcements. Yes, we get it," piped up a cheeky third-year, eyes glinting with mischief. "But there are no announcements at the moment, so is it really so bad if we, y'know, decorate a little?"

And there it was again—the quick responses that left him speechless every time. Hongjoong tried to keep his expression stern, but a tiny part of him could almost see their point. Was it so bad to have a bit of fun? No, he reminded himself, that's not the point. But as he felt his resolve waver, he knew a miracle wasn't going to happen today. Why couldn't he be both firm and likeable, just like—

"Oh, so you want to test if it's bad?" your voice cut through, sharp but calm, as you stepped down from the spiral staircase. You'd been listening long enough to hear their usual defiance, and you were not about to let them undermine your boyfriend's authority. "How about we invite the professors to take a look at your 'artwork' and see how much they'd appreciate it, hm?"

Like you.

Hongjoong released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, grateful for your support. You, with your knack for balancing authority and approachability, were everything he wished he could be as a prefect. If he could just learn how to be firm, like you, maybe Gryffindor's antics would finally come under control.

"You heard her," he added, finding a bit of confidence again as he nodded in agreement. "Clean it up. Now."

The students exchanged glances, sighing as they reluctantly began peeling off the doodles. He couldn't help but grin a little as he glanced your way.

"Thanks, babe," he mouthed.

You shook your head, smiling as you nodded toward the remaining Gryffindors lounging around. "I'm heading to the Great Hall first. I'll leave it to you to get everyone to breakfast on time, Joong. Think you can handle it?"

Hongjoong nodded enthusiastically, eager to make you proud. "You bet. They're going to see a whole new Prefect Kim this year," he declared confidently.

You laughed, both amused and a bit sceptical. He'd nearly caved to their antics just moments ago, but that was part of his charm. You loved how different he was from you—how he helped you loosen up when you were too serious, just as you helped him stay firm when he got a little too lenient. Together, you two were like yin and yang, balanced and perfectly matched, as everyone in the house always teased.

Squeezing his hand, you gave him a playful smile. "Show 'em, tiger," you winked before turning to leave, catching a glimpse of his cheeks turning pink.

The moment you were out of sight, the common room burst into whistles and smirks around him. Snapping out of his trance, your boyfriend rolled his eyes, trying to keep his composure.

"Alright, folks," he called out, clapping his hands. "You heard my girl. Let's cooperate for once and head to the Great Hall on time—don't make me disappoint her!"

The Gryffindors grinned, shuffling toward the door without a fuss, eager to play along. He smirked, pleased with their obedience whenever you were mentioned. Maybe he'd always need your presence to keep this difficult crowd in line, but he didn't mind at all. He knew they didn't have to fear him for him to be a good prefect. Deep down, he knew they all adored him, and he was pretty sure that, rule-breaking aside, they wouldn't truly make things difficult for him. They just loved teasing him—because, honestly, he might just be their favourite prefect.

Seonghwa ↠ Hufflepuff

The Goody Two Shoes and Teacher's Pet

"Oh, Seonghwa, my boy! What brings you here on a weekend? Shouldn't you be off enjoying Hogsmeade with your girlfriend?" Professor Sprout asked, pleasantly surprised as her star student stepped into the greenhouse, notebook in hand. The seventh-year smiled brightly, giving her a respectful nod before approaching.

"Good afternoon, Professor! I just came by to check on my mandrake—I'm determined to cultivate one to maturity for my latest Restorative Draught. And, uh… my girlfriend, she'll be here to join me soon," he added, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks turning pink at the mention of you.

Professor Sprout's expression softened, a smile touching her lips. "You're too hard working for your own good, both of you," she gently chided, pride swelling as she glanced at the Hufflepuff sigil pinned proudly on his denim jacket. Even on a day when house representation wasn't required, Park Seonghwa wore his Hufflepuff loyalty openly, reminding everyone where his heart belonged. She knew he had a bright future ahead, and if she were to ever consider early retirement, he would be her top choice to take over as the next Herbology professor.

As if on cue, you pushed open the greenhouse doors and stepped inside. "Hwa, are you here already?" you called, glancing around before your eyes landed on your boyfriend and Professor Sprout.

Seonghwa, who'd been focused on his mandrake, looked up at the sound of your voice, a soft smile lighting up his face. In the presence of authority, he resisted the urge to rush over and hug you, his restraint both endearing and unmistakable. You bit back a laugh, amused by his adorable attempt at composure.

"Oh! Good afternoon, Professor!" you greeted, nodding respectfully. "Are we disturbing you? We can come another day if you need the greenhouse for your work."

She smiled warmly, waving off your concern. "Not at all, dearie. I was just on my way out. You two enjoy your little date," she added with a knowing wink. "And if you're in the mood for a treat, there are some extra Every Flavour Beans on the top shelf—please help yourselves."

"Thank you, Professor!" you and Seonghwa chimed in unison, exchanging a look of warmth and shared gratitude. As the elderly woman left, he gently took your hand, pulling you close enough to place a soft kiss on your forehead. You leaned into him with a contented sigh. "How embarrassing—now she's certain we're dating," you murmured, unable to hide your own smile.

He chuckled, his eyes dancing with affection. "Is that such a terrible thing, love? Maybe it's time the whole world knows you're mine."

You gasped in mock scandal, playfully nudging his shoulder. "How improper," you laughed, but a blush crept into your cheeks. Though you'd never formally announced your relationship, it was hardly a secret—everyone must have guessed by now with all the time you spent together. But for the sake of his reputation as the model student, you'd both kept things understated, not feeling the need to broadcast your love. Now, though, there was a new spark in his eyes, a hint of the Slytherin heritage running through his veins, as if he suddenly wanted the world to see what his heart had always known.

Seonghwa, after all, was the first Hufflepuff in a long line of Ravenclaws and Slytherins—a surprise his family hadn't quite anticipated. But their surprise had never bothered him. Instead, it had only strengthened his resolve to prove that Hufflepuff was as noble and worthy as any other house. Consistently at the top of his class in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, he'd gained the admiration of professors for his quiet dedication and high moral standards. Always the first to lend a hand to new students or submit his assignments, he was as dependable as they came.

Yet as much as he wanted to honour his house and his achievements, his heart now longed for something deeper. For the first time, he wanted his family—and everyone else—to see you, the one who had believed in him through every challenge and celebrated every victory, who had loved him exactly as he was. He knew that letting you into his life so openly would be the proudest badge he could ever wear.

"So," he began, biting his lip as he shifted his focus from the mandrake to you, who was busily jotting down notes about its latest growth. "Should we spend some time in Hogsmeade after this?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant, and your eyes widened slightly, your actions faltering as you locked gazes with him.

"You're joking, right? All our friends are there—" you started, but he shook his head, his expression earnest. "I'm serious, love."

The weight of his words sank in, and you realised he wasn't joking at all. A rush of emotions washed over you. "I... I don't know why it took me so long, but I don't want to hide my feelings for you anymore. I want to openly show my affection and be like every other couple in school. It's already our seventh year, and we haven't even been on a proper date. Can we make this the first of many more? Would you like to... go on a date with me?"

Placing your pen down, you blinked, your heart racing at his sincere proposal. This was a big step. Once the truth was out in the open, there would be no turning back—everyone, including his family, would know about you two. But as you looked into his eyes, you felt a rush of warmth. If he was ready for it, then so were you. You knew he would always protect you, no matter what.

With a shy smile, you nodded, feeling butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Thought you'd never ask."

His face broke into a radiant grin, and the world around you seemed to melt away. Seonghwa stepped closer, allowing your head to rest against his shoulder, enveloped in the warmth of his presence like a cosy blanket. "I can't wait," he murmured softly.

"Me too," you replied, a wave of excitement bubbling in your chest.

In that greenhouse, surrounded by vibrant plants and warm sunlight, you both felt the first tender blooms of something beautiful—a love that was finally ready to thrive in the open, with all the joy and light that came with it.

Yunho ↠ Hufflepuff

The Popular Triwizard Champion

"Well? Have you managed to figure out the next task, golden boy?"

Yunho's head snapped around at the sound of your voice, his wide eyes betraying his surprise. Before he could respond, a few stray water droplets from his damp hair splashed onto you, drawing a squeal from your lips.

"Oh no! Angel, I'm so sorry!" he stammered, hastily brushing at your sleeve, his genuine concern making you laugh. He held the golden egg tightly, now safely shut after his latest round of inspections. "But seriously, what are you doing here? You'll be in trouble if anyone finds you sneaking into the prefect's bathroom!"

You snorted, though your heart melted at the way his brows knitted with worry. "Well, I could say the same for you, Yuyu. You're not a prefect either," you quipped with a grin.

He chuckled, the sound echoing in the steamy room as he swam closer to where you sat at the edge of the bath, your legs lazily dangling in the water. Gently, he set the golden egg beside you, then rested his arms on your thighs, gazing up at you with a playful smirk.

"The difference is, I'm a Triwizard Champion," he teased, his grin widening, "and you're not."

Rolling your eyes, you booped his nose with a finger, earning a soft laugh from him. "True, I'm not," you replied, sticking your tongue out cheekily. "But I am your girlfriend, so that grants me a special privilege, doesn't it?"

Yunho's gaze softened as he beamed up at you, water glistening on his face like tiny jewels. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice warm and affectionate. "It definitely does."

With a tender smile, you reached out to brush the water from his face, gently pushing his damp hair back from his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when he instinctively leaned into your touch, his warmth grounding you despite the growing tension in your chest.

"You haven't answered me yet," you reminded him softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Have you figured out the answer to the second task?"

He nodded, his hand lifting to cover yours on his cheek, holding it in place as though it anchored him. He gave your fingers a soft, reassuring squeeze. "I have," he murmured, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. "But... I don't want you to freak out. Everything's going to be okay, I promise."

Despite his comforting tone, the knot in your stomach tightened. You tried to mask it with a cheeky smile, nudging him lightly with your foot in the water. "Suuure, Yuyu. I totally believe you when you say these tasks will get easier. I mean, it's not like the first one involved dragons or anything."

Your boyfriend sighed, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. You knew he was thinking about the moment his name had been announced as the Hogwarts champion—the wave of fear that had gripped you as the Great Hall erupted in cheers.

He had submitted his name on a whim, more as a joke than anything. He hadn't thought for a second he'd actually be chosen. But of course, you should've known better. He was Jung Yunho—the school's golden boy. Everyone adored him, from his endless optimism to his natural charm. He could light up any room he walked into and never turned away anyone in need. His wild card selection had shocked everyone, but he had embraced it with the same unshakable enthusiasm he brought to everything in life.

For him, the Triwizard Tournament was an adventure, a chance to make memories and new friends. For you, it was a constant worry. You knew the dangers far too well, and it terrified you. Still, when he had emerged victorious after the first task, his joy had been contagious, and you told yourself you had to let your fear go. You couldn't hold him back from greatness. He needed your support, and you were determined to be the girlfriend he deserved.

Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips, hoping it would reassure him as much as it did you. "Alright," you whispered, brushing your thumb along his jaw. "So tell me. What's the second task?"

Before you could pull away, he held onto you, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his forehead against yours. His voice softened, steady but laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"The Black Lake," he said quietly. "I... I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but the conviction in his eyes made you hold your ground. Whatever this task demanded, you knew one thing for sure: you'd face it together.

And his predictions couldn't have been more accurate—he and the champions from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had an hour to retrieve something that had been stolen from them from the merpeople's village beneath the Black Lake.

The lake was eerily silent, its surface shimmering under the overcast sky as Yunho broke through the water, gasping for air. His strong arms cradled you protectively, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. The tension that had gripped him since the start of the task finally began to ease now that you were safe in his embrace.

You coughed violently, expelling the icy water from your lungs, your breaths coming in sharp, shallow bursts. The fragments of what had happened began piecing themselves together in your mind—the haunting stillness of the underwater village, the muffled echo of water all around, and your boyfriend's words from the prefect's bathroom resurfacing with a jarring clarity: "I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."

He had been right.

The task wasn't just about retrieving an object of value—it was about recovering the most precious thing stolen from them.

For Yunho, that had been you.

"Oh thank god, you're alright," he murmured, his voice thick with relief as he guided you onto the shore. The cheers and applause from the crowd were a distant hum in the background, drowned out by the pounding of his heart. Grabbing a towel, he draped it over your shoulders, enveloping you in its warmth before pulling you close. His arms wrapped around you securely, as though anchoring you back to him and shielding you from the chill that clung to the air.

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, his familiar scent grounding you amidst the chaos of the moment. Despite the lingering cold, a soft smile crept onto your lips. Your voice, though weak, carried an unwavering sincerity. "How could I not be? You'll always save me… my hero."

His grip on you tightened at your words, his heart swelling with emotion as he buried his face in your hair. "Always," he whispered, his voice steady but laced with the weight of his promise. "Now I understand how hard it is for you to worry about me. I promise I'll make it out alive, every time—for you."

The announcement of his second-place finish barely registered. Everything seemed insignificant in the face of what truly mattered. All that filled his mind was the undeniable fact that you were safe, right here in his arms—the one person he cared for most.

Yeosang ↠ Ravenclaw

The Annoying Ace

"Hey, Kang! What'd you get for Potions? There's no way you aced it this time—it was brutal, and you barely studied before the test," a fellow Ravenclaw called out, pulling Yeosang from his thoughts. He glanced up, a small, nonchalant smile gracing his lips as he held up his graded paper. "You're right, it was tough. I only got an A- this time."

The room fell silent. His classmates stared at him, their jaws nearly hitting the floor. Was he serious? Most of the class had barely scraped by, even after endless hours of revision. Seventh-year Potions was no joke, filled with the most complex and challenging formulas known to the wizarding world.

"Only an A-? Are you kidding me? Did you bribe the professor or something?" someone blurted out, their voice tinged with disbelief.

You, seated next to your boyfriend, shot them a sharp glare. "Say that again in front of Professor Slughorn. I dare you," you retorted, crossing your arms.

The student huffed indignantly, muttering under their breath. "Whatever. You probably cheated with Felix Felicis or something."

Before you could unleash another scathing comeback, Yeosang gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his calm demeanour soothing your rising temper. His ever-composed smile didn't waver as he addressed the accusation. "Well," he began, his voice light but laced with quiet confidence, "if we were skilled enough to brew the Liquid Luck flawlessly and effectively, wouldn't that alone prove we deserve our grades?"

The remark landed with perfect precision, leaving everyone speechless. They knew he had a point. Brewing the luck potion wasn't just difficult—it was borderline impossible for most, requiring six months of meticulous preparation and risking catastrophic failure if done even slightly wrong.

The room buzzed with unspoken thoughts. If you and Yeosang could pull off such a feat, would the Potions exam have been challenging for either of you?

Your lips quirked into a satisfied smile as you exchanged a glance with your boyfriend. That was just like him—always shutting down his doubters with quiet brilliance, never needing to raise his voice to prove his worth.

"Man, I really need to learn how to be as effortlessly cool as you," you teased, giving his shoulder a playful nudge as he led you by the hand out of the classroom and toward the courtyard for some fresh air.

He glanced at you, his usual relaxed grin softening into something fonder. "You're already the coolest person to me," he replied casually as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you lightly smacked his arm, looking away as you bit your lip to hide the spreading blush. Even now, you could hardly believe he had accepted your confession back then—and that he was now your boyfriend. To you, he had always seemed so distant, so untouchable, like a star out of reach.

That was, until the day he noticed you struggling with a potion after class and offered to help. You hadn't known it at the time, but that small moment of kindness would lead to something far greater.

Yeosang is that Ravenclaw—the one who always seems lost in his thoughts yet somehow aces every test with ease, charming every professor in the process. He's the envy of his classmates, who burn the midnight oil studying while he effortlessly secures perfect scores. His calm, almost ethereal demeanour only adds to the intrigue, making him a bit of a mystery to everyone around him.

No one can figure out how he manages to zone out during Potions lessons and still brew flawless draughts, but they're too in awe (and slightly frustrated) to ask. It's just him—an enigma wrapped in quiet confidence, and somehow, he was yours.

"But seriously, Yeo, have you actually managed to perfect your luck potion? Don't think I didn't notice Professor Slughorn sneaking glances your way. He really did trust you to brew some for him, didn't he?" you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder, fingers gently squeezing his where they were intertwined with yours.

He hummed softly, the sound vibrating against you as he rested his head atop yours. With a flick of his wand, he cast a subtle charm to deflect a stray prank from a group of cheeky Gryffindors playing with products from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The spell stopped the flying object just before it could land anywhere near you. Your heart fluttered at his nonchalant protectiveness, and you couldn't help but notice the envious sighs from a few girls nearby.

"I'll answer that," he murmured, his tone teasing, "when you tell me how you managed to brew such a flawless Amortentia draught."

You blinked, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "The love potion? What are you talking about? I've never even tried to make one."

A small smile tugged at his lips, and he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Are you sure about that?"

You furrowed your brows, your confusion deepening. "Yes, I'm sure," you replied, your tone laced with scepticism. But before you could press him further, he leaned in and stole a quick kiss, leaving you gasping softly in surprise. Your hand flew to your lips, cheeks aflame as you tried to process what just happened.

Yeosang chuckled at your flustered reaction, his arm slipping securely around your back as he guided you to keep walking. "Then explain how you managed to make me so hopelessly enamoured with you," he said, his voice low but teasing. "It's the only logical explanation for how smitten I am."

"Oh, obviously. That's the only logical explanation," you burst out laughing, playfully trying to push him away, but he held firm, his grip steady yet gentle.

He chuckled along with you, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "Exactly, my love. You've clearly bewitched me, and I have no intention of breaking free."

"The feeling's mutual, my darling genius."

San ↠ Slytherin

The Intimidating Head Boy Who's Secretly a Softie

"Oh, come on, Pumpkin! When will you learn to leave the Monster Book of Monsters alone?!" San groaned in exasperation, his eyes following his mischievous cat as it darted around, narrowly avoiding the snapping Care of Magical Creatures textbook that was now chasing it across the yard. The naughty feline had somehow managed to unclasp the book—again. "Come here, you stubborn little thing!" he called, swooping in to scoop up the cat.

With practised ease, he approached the wild book, stroking its spine gently until it calmed and locked itself shut, just as Hagrid had taught. Of course, San was probably the only one who had actually paid attention to that particular lesson.

A dramatic gasp caught his attention, and he turned to find you standing nearby, a teasing grin plastered across your face.

"Well well, who would've thought? The scary and intimidating Choi San names his cat Pumpkin? And a cat, no less? I always pictured you with an owl or a crow. Guess you're a softie after all. Wait till the rest of the house finds out."

He rolled his eyes but smirked, settling back into his seat behind Hagrid's hut. "Go ahead and tell them, sweetheart. It's not like I asked anyone to see me as the 'mean and cold Slytherin.' If they want to believe that, then that's on them."

You chuckled and took a seat beside him, watching as he cooed at his cat and peppered it with kisses. "So, what's a big bad boy like you doing out here, hm?"

"Detention, obviously," he deadpanned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Fits my reputation, doesn't it?"

You shook your head knowingly, the corner of your lips curling upward. "If that's what you're calling it, sure. But Hagrid told me you were out here for some extra lessons on Hippogriffs when I passed him earlier."

He feigned a pout, resting his chin on Pumpkin's head. "Damn, you caught me. There goes my big bad boy image. Boohoo."

You burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.

San had always been an enigma to those around him. With his sharp, commanding presence and role as Head Boy, he had a reputation for being unapproachable. First-years practically scrambled out of his way in the corridors. But those who dared get to know him soon discovered that beneath the piercing gaze and confident swagger was a playful, caring soul who adored magical creatures.

And you? You were supposedly his rival—his female counterpart, according to your peers. With your equally composed demeanour and role as Head Girl, it wasn't uncommon for people to pit the two of you against each other. But those who looked closer would've seen the truth: you were far from rivals. If anything, you were two halves of the same warm, hidden flame, especially when it came to each other.

"Well, I hope you don't mind me joining you on your little detention, Choi," you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He hummed thoughtfully, nuzzling his head against yours. "On one condition."

"And what's that?" you glanced up at him.

He bit his lip, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me take you to Hogsmeade this weekend, Head Girl."

"Alright, alright. None of that in my class," Hagrid's booming voice cut through the moment, startling both of you as you quickly pulled apart, clearing your throats in unison.

San shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck while you tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh.

Hagrid folded his massive arms across his chest, his bushy eyebrows raised knowingly. "We're only doing this if you're both serious, okay? This isn't some fun little date idea."

You nodded earnestly, though the corners of your lips twitched with amusement. "Of course, Professor. We're serious about this."

But Hagrid wasn't done.

Turning his attention to the Head Boy, he added, "But please, do take her to Hogsmeade, lad. I've heard more than enough from you about how much you like her."

San's eyes widened, his cheeks instantly flushing a deep crimson. "H-Hagrid!" he stammered, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

You couldn't hold it in anymore, bursting into laughter as he glared at you half-heartedly. "Oh, you're never living this down," you teased, nudging his arm.

"I—uh—yes, sir," he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he stared down at the ground, clearly flustered.

The professor chuckled, giving a hearty clap to the young man's shoulder that nearly made him stumble. "That's what I like to hear, Choi. Now, back to work, both of you. Those Hippogriffs aren't going to train themselves."

As Hagrid lumbered away, you leaned closer to San, grinning. "So, how much do you like me, Choi San?"

He groaned, his hands covering his face. "Can we just focus on the Hippogriffs?"

"Not a chance," you replied smugly, your laughter ringing out as his ears turned an even brighter shade of red.

The journey back to the common room was filled with quiet comfort, but as you both stepped through the entrance, his demeanour shifted instantly. Gone was the flustered boy from earlier; in his place stood the stoic and commanding Head Boy, his sharp gaze sweeping over the lounging students.

"Keep it down," he said curtly to a group of rowdy second-years, his tone leaving no room for argument. They immediately quieted, murmuring apologies.

You bit back a smile, watching his transformation with newfound amusement. After seeing the playful, gentle side of him during the lesson with Hagrid, this intimidating persona of his now seemed more endearing than imposing. It was his way of keeping the chaos in check, and you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he switched between the two sides of himself.

As you trailed behind him, snippets of hushed whispers reached your ears.

"Did they come back together?"

"Isn't that the Head Girl?"

"Are they… you know?"

You glanced at San and caught the slight gulp he tried to conceal, his stiff posture giving away his unease despite his poker face.

When you both reached the point where the dorms split, you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. He stood tall, keeping his expression neutral, though you could see the faintest flicker of nervousness in his eyes. The room fell silent, the curious gazes of your housemates fixed on the two of you.

You smirked, breaking the tension. "So, Hogsmeade this weekend, right?"

His eyes widened, and a soft gasp rippled through the common room. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure as he met your gaze. "You… accept?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, though the playful glint in your eyes betrayed your amusement. "Well, you did say I could only join you earlier if I agreed to this. Seeing as we've already finished the lesson, that clearly means I've accepted, no?"

For a moment, his carefully constructed mask faltered, replaced by a grin so wide and boyish that it made your heart skip a beat. He didn't care about the whispers anymore as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to give yours a gentle squeeze.

"It's a date then, Head Girl."

You smiled back, your voice light but teasing as you replied, "Sounds good, Head Boy."

The room erupted into murmurs and low cheers as you turned and walked toward your dorm, feeling his gaze follow you until you disappeared from sight. If San had been worried about his reputation before, it was clear now that he didn't care.

Not when it came to you.

Mingi ↠ Ravenclaw

The Son of a Famous Wizard Scientist

"Going somewhere, Song?"

Mingi cursed under his breath, reluctantly pulling the invisibility cloak off his frame to face you. You sat casually in one of the Ravenclaw common room chairs, a book in hand and an amused smirk playing on your lips. He looked thoroughly defeated. "How do you always figure me out?"

You chuckled, closing your book and setting it aside as you straightened up. "It's not that hard with your lack of stealth. I feel the breeze every time you pass by. Honestly, the real mystery is how Filch hasn't caught you yet."

He crossed his arms with a huff, a pout forming on his lips. "Ugh, what's it gonna take for you to pretend you didn't see me? My dad cannot find out. Name your price."

You tapped your chin, standing to your full height and eyeing the Marauder's Map in his hands. "I want in on whatever you're up to."

His brows shot up in surprise. "You? But aren't you like... the model Ravenclaw? Goody two shoes, follows every rule, reads for fun? Why would you risk your squeaky-clean image for something like this?"

You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Let's just say I'm curious about what the great wizard scientist's son is always sneaking off to do instead of, I don't know, living up to everyone's—and your father's—expectations."

He sighed in defeat, lifting his left arm to gesture for you to join him under the cloak. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. Just make sure you can keep up. And for Merlin's sake, please tell me your stealth skills are better than mine. You really don't want to run into Mrs. Norris."

"Trust me, I wouldn't dream of it," you replied, ducking under the cloak with him, your heart racing at the prospect of finally joining him on one of his adventures.

And so, that night marked the beginning of an unlikely yet thrilling partnership: you and Song Mingi, partners-in-crime navigating Hogwarts past curfew.

For someone as studious and rule-abiding as you, it was a surprising twist to find yourself sneaking through hidden passageways, clutching an invisibility cloak, and dodging prefects alongside someone like Mingi. But there was something irresistibly intriguing about him—the way he effortlessly balanced his rebellious streak with a sharp intellect, and how his lighthearted demeanour contrasted with the heavy expectations placed upon him.

You see, unlike your ordinary self, his life was all about finding his own path despite the pressures of his family name. As the son of a renowned wizarding scientist, expectations for him to follow in those illustrious footsteps were high. But Mingi? He wasn't interested in being defined by anyone else's legacy.

Sure, he had the smarts for it—his insights into magical theories often surprised you, even when they were thrown in casually during one of your late-night escapades. But instead of shouldering the weight of those expectations, he found joy in simply being himself. He explored magic for the sake of curiosity, not obligation.

Of course, it was hard for someone like him to truly fly under the radar. With his tall frame and infectious laugh, he had a knack for drawing attention no matter how much he tried to avoid it. He'd always play it off with an easy grin, though—effortlessly charming his way out of trouble (well, most of the time).

And now, here you were, walking beside him in the dead of night, laughing softly at his whispered commentary about the portraits on the walls. It was a side of him most people didn't see—carefree, thoughtful, and incredibly warm.

"Alright, where to next, partner?" you asked, barely containing your grin as you reached a fork in the corridor.

He glanced at the map, his finger tracing a path. "A secret stash of sweets hidden near the kitchens. Wanna check it out?"

"Only if you're willing to share," you teased, bumping his shoulder lightly.

He smirked, holding the cloak open as you ducked beneath it again. "Deal. But only because I need you to distract the house elves if we get caught."

With that, the two of you disappeared into the night, laughter echoing softly down the empty hallways. It was the start of a friendship, and perhaps something more that, against all odds, just worked.

On one of the slower days at school, the two of you lounged in the Great Hall, a wizard's chessboard between you. The usual hum of scattered conversations and the clinking of goblets provided a quiet backdrop as Mingi hunched over the board, his tall frame bent in concentration. His eyes darted between pieces, plotting his next move with a focus that made you smirk.

"I've got an idea," you said, leaning back with a teasing grin. "Whoever loses has to take on a dare during tonight's adventure."

His head shot up, a glimmer of intrigue lighting up his eyes. He grinned, his expression a mix of mischief and admiration for the rebellious streak you seemed to save just for him. "Oh, it's on."

The match stretched out with calculated moves and sly counters, both of you pouring focus into claiming victory. But when your queen finally cornered his king, you leaned back with a triumphant grin. "Checkmate," you declared, watching the realisation dawn on his face.

He groaned theatrically, throwing his head back. "Noooo!"

You laughed, folding your arms smugly. "Now, about that dare..."

He straightened in his seat, narrowing his eyes as he tried to guess your plan. "Alright, hit me with your worst."

A mischievous gleam danced in your eyes as you leaned forward and whispered, "Tonight, when we sneak out, you have to charm Moaning Myrtle with your best pickup lines."

His jaw dropped, his ears turning an amusing shade of red. "You want me to flirt with a ghost?!"

"That's the dare," you said, grinning wider.

He blinked at you in disbelief, then let out a booming laugh, shaking his head. "You're insane. But fine—a deal's a deal."

As the two of you packed up, you noticed a flicker of something softer in his gaze. He clearly enjoyed this side of you, the playful daring you didn't often let others see.

The night was quiet as you snuck through the dark hallways, huddled beneath the invisibility cloak. The close proximity made it impossible to ignore the way your shoulders brushed, or how you could feel his breath softly against your ear as he whispered directions. You tried to focus, but the warmth radiating from him and the faint smell of his cologne made it difficult.

He wasn't faring any better. His movements felt unusually cautious, his arm brushing against yours more often than necessary, his voice a little lower than usual when he whispered, "Careful where you step."

Ironically, it was his warning that broke your concentration. Your foot landed on something uneven, and before you could stop yourself, you tripped, sending a potted plant toppling from its perch.

The crash echoed loudly through the corridor. "What was that?!" Filch's voice screeched in the distance, sending panic shooting through you both.

"Move!" Mingi hissed, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the nearest room. The door creaked shut just as the school caretaker's hurried footsteps grew louder.

You realised, to your dismay, that the "room" was a cramped broom cupboard. The two of you were squished together in the small space, the invisibility cloak still draped awkwardly over your heads. Your breathing was ragged from the sudden sprint, and you both struggled to keep quiet as Filch's grumbling grew nearer.

"Stupid kids sneaking around… I'll catch them sooner or later," he muttered as his footsteps faded in the opposite direction.

Only when the sound of his boots disappeared entirely did you dare to speak. "We're safe now," you whispered.

"Yeah," Mingi murmured back, his voice quieter than usual.

That's when you noticed just how close you were. Your heart stuttered as you looked up, your nose grazing his. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and shallow, mingling with your own. Neither of you moved, the air between you was charged and heavy.

He swallowed hard, his hand slowly brushing against yours beneath the cloak. "I know I lost the game," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But... is it alright if I flirt with someone else tonight?"

Your breath caught, your thoughts spinning as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing yours.

"That depends on who it is," you whispered back, your voice shaky.

He smiled softly, his eyes flicking between yours and your lips. "You."

Your heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, your hand slid up to grip the collar of his shirt as you murmured, "Fine."

Then, closing the final distance, you pressed your lips to his. When you finally pulled away, the world felt different as you stayed close, foreheads touching. He let out a soft chuckle, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Best dare I've ever lost."

You smiled. "Guess I'll have to keep challenging you then, Song."

"Guess you will," he whispered, leaning in for another kiss.

Wooyoung ↠ Gryffindor

The Talented Quidditch Beater

"Woo, you got it! That's my boy!"

The sound of your voice rang out across the pitch, instantly catching Wooyoung's attention. A grin lit up his face as he turned mid-flight on his Nimbus 2000, his eyes sparkling as they met yours.

"I'll make you proud, babe!" he called back, his tone brimming with confidence.

"Not if you can't keep your eyes on the game," his teammate—another Beater—shouted, swooping in just in time to deflect a bludger barreling toward him.

His eyes widened at the close call before a sheepish, boyish grin spread across his face. "Thanks, mate. That was a little too close!"

He turned his attention back to you, throwing you a playful wink and blowing a kiss in your direction. "Love you," he mouthed with a quick smirk, clearly revelling in the way your worried gaze softened into a smile.

And then, just like that, he was off again, zooming across the pitch like the fearless champ he was, ready to win not just for his team, but for the person cheering him on from the stands.

Pride swelled in your chest like a warm, unrelenting tide as you watched your boyfriend play. It was almost surreal to think about how far the two of you had come—especially since there was a time when you couldn't stand him.

Back then, Jung Wooyoung was everything you couldn't tolerate: loud, attention-seeking, and constantly wreaking havoc with his pranks. He was the popular Gryffindor Quidditch star with a magnetic grin, always surrounded by friends and admirers. Meanwhile, you were his polar opposite—a shy, studious student with no interest in shenanigans, focused solely on excelling in your studies and making your parents proud.

It all started when one of his pranks nearly ruined your Transfiguration assignment. Furious, you'd confronted him in front of half the common room, calling him reckless and immature. Wooyoung, never one to back down, had retaliated with a smirk, calling you boring and stiff. That marked the beginning of your rivalry—petty remarks, pointed glares, and intentionally getting on each other's nerves became routine.

But everything changed the day he overheard a group of Slytherins mocking you. Their cruel taunts about your Muggle heritage—and the word "Mudblood" slicing through the air—left you reeling. Before you could even muster a response, he stepped in, his usual playful demeanour replaced by something sharp and unyielding.

"What did you just say?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. The bullies faltered under his glare, and though they tried to brush it off, he didn't let them escape unscathed. He stood firm, defending you with a conviction that left you stunned.

From that day on, the dynamic between you shifted. He made it clear that no one was to mess with you—not even his own friends, who had occasionally targeted you with harmless pranks. In return, you stopped berating him for his antics, accepting that his mischief was simply part of who he was. Over time, you found yourself laughing at his jokes, and he discovered a softer side to you that few others had ever seen.

Years passed, and that fragile truce evolved into friendship. Somewhere along the way, the friendship blossomed into something deeper, something neither of you could ignore. And now, here you were, standing in the Gryffindor stands, cheering him on with every fibre of your being.

Only after being with him did you truly understand why so many adored him for his talent. On the pitch, he was in his element. As a Beater, he thrived on adrenaline, his bat swinging with precision as he sent a bludger hurtling toward the opposing team. He was a natural showman, hyping up the crowd with daring plays and cheeky winks. Though his mischievous nature was ever-present, he became fiercely competitive during matches, his focus unshakable when it came to leading his house to victory.

You smiled as he executed a flawless manoeuvre, his laughter echoing across the pitch when the crowd erupted into cheers. He was so different from the boy you had once disliked, yet so quintessentially the same. His charm, his energy, his ability to make everyone around him feel alive—it was impossible not to love him for it.

"Watch this, babe!" he called as he rocketed past the stands, his grin wide and unrestrained. He was a whirlwind of passion and joy, and he was yours. And somehow, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Aaaand Gryffindor wins!"

The roar of the crowd filled the stadium as the Gryffindor Seeker triumphantly held up the golden snitch, the tiny wings glinting under the bright sun. Cheers echoed through the stands, Gryffindor flags waving wildly in celebration. You cheered, knowing that much of this victory was thanks to your boyfriend, who had spent the game clearing the path for his teammate with skilful swings of his bat.

Amid the chaos, Wooyoung's sharp eyes immediately sought you out. Despite the throng of screaming fans and his own teammates clamouring to celebrate, all he could see was you. Without hesitation, he veered his broom in your direction, ignoring the unmistakable warning glare from Professor McGonagall.

Hovering in front of you, he flashed his signature grin, his chest rising and falling from the adrenaline of the match. Before you could say a word, he leaned in and kissed you, his lips warm and slightly chapped from the cold wind. The crowd's cheers seemed to fade as you felt his smile against your own, your cheeks heating with the realisation of how public this display was.

When you pulled away, your voice was barely above a whisper. "That's enough, Woo. You don't want detention now, do you?"

He laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I wouldn't mind it if you were there too." With a wink, he flew off to join his team, leaving you blinking sheepishly under Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze.

You cleared your throat, attempting to smooth down your robes as you mumbled, "Sorry, Professor."

To your surprise, her expression softened, and she gestured for you to walk with her as the stands began to empty. "Don't be," she said, her voice measured but kind. "You're a good motivator for him. We appreciate it. I won't lie and say our victories haven't increased since you came into the picture."

Her words left you blushing furiously as you followed her down the steps. Did that mean even she shipped you and Wooyoung? The very thought had you hiding a bashful smile behind your scarf, the cheers of the Gryffindor team still ringing in your ears.

Jongho ↠ Slytherin

The Scary Prefect Who Commands Respect

"There he is! Shhh, keep it down!"

Your friends scrambled to settle into their seats, hastily lowering their voices and pretending to focus on the books in front of them. You followed their lead, keeping your head down as the most intimidating prefect of Slytherin entered the library. Choi Jongho's very name was enough to make most students sit up straight, and his imposing presence only amplified that effect. His silence carried more weight than words ever could, commanding obedience and respect effortlessly.

You swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on the text in front of you, but your focus wavered the moment his footsteps stopped—right beside you. Your heart raced as you eyed his polished shoes, unsure if you'd done something wrong. Too nervous to meet his gaze, you froze in place, waiting for whatever came next.

"Here. I think you dropped this," he said, his voice low yet unexpectedly warm.

Your eyes widened at the gentle tone, and you glanced up to see him holding out your late father's pocket watch. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips—so fleeting you wondered if you'd imagined it.

"O-oh, thank you," you stammered, taking the cherished item from him. A spark shot through you when your fingers brushed against his, leaving your heart fluttering in a way you hadn't anticipated.

"You're welcome," he replied simply, his voice kind yet measured, before continuing on his patrol.

As you watched him walk away, a realisation settled in your mind—perhaps he wasn't as fearsome as everyone claimed.

Jongho's reputation was well-earned. As a Slytherin prefect, he didn't need to raise his voice to maintain order. A single stern look was enough to make any student think twice about misbehaving, and his word was as final as it was rare. Yet, those who truly knew him understood there was more to him than his intimidating exterior. Beneath the cool, composed demeanour was a steadfast friend with a laugh that could shatter his usual seriousness in an instant.

And soon, you would become one of the few to witness that softer side of him—though, for now, you had no idea what lay ahead.

It was on a particularly eerie evening that you would come to learn the truth. The air hung heavy with an unsettling stillness as you wandered along the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, seeking solitude to clear your mind after a gruelling week. The low-hanging clouds cloaked the forest in shadows, and the quiet seemed almost too oppressive.

But peace was the last thing you found.

A low, menacing growl rippled through the trees, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath caught as you turned, your wand trembling in your hand, to face a pair of glowing eyes cutting through the darkness.

A werewolf.

Your heart pounded wildly as the creature advanced, its snarling lips curling back to reveal rows of sharp teeth. Panic seized you. You tried to cast a spell, but fear made your movements clumsy, and the incantation faltered on your tongue. The werewolf snarled again, its deadly intent unmistakable.

You were sure you were doomed.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar shattered the tense silence, startling both you and the beast. From the shadows emerged a massive bear, its fur bristling and eyes blazing with an otherworldly fury. The bear wasted no time, charging at the werewolf with raw power and unmatched ferocity.

Their clash was brutal and swift, the werewolf no match for the bear's strength and determination. Before long, the defeated creature limped off into the safety of the forest, leaving you frozen in place, trembling from head to toe.

The bear turned its attention to you, its intelligent gaze locking onto yours. Despite your fear, there was something strangely familiar in the way it looked at you—almost protective.

And then, to your utter disbelief, the bear began to shift. Its enormous form shrank, fur receding as its features morphed into something distinctly human. In a matter of moments, you found yourself staring at Choi Jongho, his sharp eyes unwavering as they met yours.

"You…" The word barely escaped your lips, your voice a mere whisper. "You're an animagus?"

His jaw tightened briefly before he nodded. "Yes," he admitted, his tone steady but quiet.

You blinked, your mind racing to process what you had just witnessed. It wasn't just the transformation that left you reeling—it was the way he had risked himself to save you. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" you finally managed.

He let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair. For the first time, you saw the stoic facade crack, revealing something raw beneath. "People already think I'm intimidating enough," he said, his voice laced with vulnerability. "If they knew I could turn into a bear, they'd see me as a monster. Even if I chose this form to protect, not harm."

Your chest tightened at his words, at the loneliness he must have carried. His stern demeanour suddenly made sense—it was a shield, a way to keep others from seeing the parts of himself he feared they wouldn't understand.

"But it's not a bad thing," you said softly, taking a step closer. "You became an animagus for a noble reason. That says more about who you are than anything else."

His gaze softened, the hard lines of his face easing just slightly. "I appreciate that," he murmured. "But not everyone would see it the same way. People fear what they don't understand."

For the first time, you saw through the intimidating exterior everyone else feared. Beneath it all, he was just someone who cared deeply, someone who bore the weight of his secrets quietly for the sake of those around him.

"Thank you for saving me," you said earnestly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. "Your secret's safe with me. I promise."

He nodded, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone warm yet reserved. "Now, you should get back. It's not safe out here."

"And you?"

"I'll make sure the forest is clear," he assured you, his protective instincts shining through. "Go. I'll be right behind you."

As you made your way back to the castle, your mind was consumed with thoughts of Jongho. The boy who had just saved your life was so much more than the fearsome prefect everyone believed him to be. And now, you carried a piece of his truth, a secret that revealed a depth to him you never would have imagined.

From then on, something shifted.

You became one of the few who dared to hold his gaze, the rare recipient of his fleeting smiles. Where others saw the intimidating Slytherin prefect, you saw the quiet strength and vulnerability he kept hidden beneath the surface. And nothing shocked people more than seeing him sit next to you at breakfast in the Great Hall.

Whispers rippled through the tables, curious and incredulous alike. Choi Jongho, the stoic and fearsome prefect, sitting with someone? A girl? The novelty was enough to turn heads, but what truly caught people's attention was the way he looked at you.

There was something unmistakable in his eyes—a quiet affection, soft and unguarded, as if your presence unravelled the walls he so carefully maintained.

He glanced over at you as you finished your meal, his expression relaxed yet tinged with curiosity. "Where are you headed after this?" he asked, his tone casual but attentive.

You wiped your hands with a napkin, smiling up at him. "The Duelling Club."

His eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "The Duelling Club? But why?"

You bit back a laugh at his incredulity, placing your fork down with an amused shake of your head. "Because someone with a very admirable trait has inspired me," you said, your voice warm with sincerity. "To be stronger, to protect those around me too."

The words caught him off guard, and you watched as his usual composure faltered. He blinked, a faint flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. The sight was endearing, a rare glimpse of boyishness in the otherwise composed prefect.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, reaching for his goblet of pumpkin juice and taking a long sip as if it might steady him. Setting it down, he muttered softly, "You don't have to." His eyes flickered to yours, vulnerable but earnest. "You'll always have me."

Your chest warmed at his words, his quiet promise resonating deeply. He might have been the boy feared by many, but to you, he was simply someone who cared more deeply than he let on.

You leaned forward slightly, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "I know," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "But it doesn't hurt to know how to hold my own, does it?"

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lips curving upward in a rare but genuine smile. "Fair enough," he conceded, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer before turning back to his plate. "But I'm coming with."

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[boneblushed]

Ignorance by infatuation

synopsis A detective behaves lewdly with you. Aaron Hotchner gets uncharacteristically jealous.

wc 1.7k

a/n omg my first Hotch fic ever hehe 🤭 feedback and love always appreciated, still trying to find my Crim Minds voice!

It’s 8 o’clock in the morning, the air sultry and verdant, rain soaked leaves underfoot. 

Aaron Hotchner frowns. Petrichor and dew mean evidence awash. He pauses to squint up at the sky, muddy grey with isolated streaks of yellow dawn.

You’re acutely aware of Spencer’s eyes on you as you walk past Hotch, and give yourself a mild headache by focussing too hard on the commotion ahead. The rest of the team don’t seem to notice the tension between you and SSA Hotchner. Or perhaps they do, and the pair of you are just too stubborn to admit it.

It’s been lurking under the surface for a while now, this perplexing pull between you. Lingering glances, raised eyebrows, irises spooled with tendrils of static. A hand pressed against your back every time he scoots behind you, like an excuse. He doesn’t do that with Emily. None of the other agents. A frown that tends to yield when your gaze catches his.

Or hardens when someone acts a little lewder than is appropriate.

Like the other day, for example, when he’d overheard you on the phone with some deadbeat cop in the Dallas area. (He’s probably being unfair. He probably isn’t even a deadbeat. It’s just that anyone that flirts with the idea of your favour is going to be unworthy in comparison, even Agent Hotchner.)

The phone had rung in the middle of your exchange, and you’d answered it immediately, mouthing apologies in its place. Aaron Hotchner remembers the shine of gloss on your lips, the ways your fingers clasped the phone to your ear, gentle but firm. Remnants of peach coloured polish on your nails.

“Yes, this is she,” you’d answered, mouthing another apology to him. “How can I help you?”

You’d come into his office a few minutes prior to discuss something media strategy; Hotch didn’t have a mind for it, he much preferred giving you all the reins. He recognised how strange this was for a control freak as prolific as him. You were different though, he’d attest. It was a sentiment as dangerous, as non-platonic, as the feelings making home in his ribcage.

“Right,” you’d said, pulling your spiral-bound notebook out of your pocket. You’d wedged your phone between your ear and shoulder, slipping your pen out of your breast pocket and clicking it against it. Hotch felt unseasonably hot at such attention to your chest. He raised his eyebrows inquisitively, trying to catch your gaze.

“Ah, I see, yes that does sound like our area of expertise,” you’d continued, and then a pause, an awkward, unwieldy laugh. Still beautiful. “No, yes, our is correct — I am in fact part of the team.” Another pause; this time, you’d rolled your eyes when your laugh spooled out of your pretty mouth. He didn’t recognise it. “I don’t know about that. Should we get back to the case at hand? Great.”

Hotchner’s eyebrows had lowered then, furrowing into an expression of concern, flailing interest. Not jealousy. He was pretty certain he knew all your laughs, the cadence of them, the syrupy timbre. This one was new. You sounded uncomfortable, as though something said over the phone had abraded you somehow. As his eyebrows had, his heart had sunk into his stomach. He remembers the strain of his forearm muscles against his clenched knuckles.

“Sure. Yes. As soon as I have all the details I’ll be able to distribute them. Great, yes, we’ll see you soon, I’m sure. Thank you. Goodbye.”

And that had been that. Hotch hadn’t had the stomach to ask after the details, especially not when you’d seemed so eager to put it behind you.

After ending the call, you’d shaken your head and proclaimed, “Don’t ask,” launching back into your spiel about media strategy like it hadn’t happened. Hotch wasn’t in the business of disagreeing with you; pressing things. Saying no. It wasn’t lost on him that he used the word liberally with everyone else he knew.

Back at the scene, Hotch stays a few steps behind the team. He knows that Spencer’s assessing eyes will see right through his faux contemplation; Hotchner knows, from the many frowns Spencer’s eidetic memory has learned, that the expression on his face will be recognised as distraction.

He needs to focus. He needs you near. He needs to keep his eye on the ball. He needs deadbeat detective far away from here.

As you and the BAU team near the crime scene, a rugged looking cop pulls away from his colleagues. He has eyes like treacle tart and a grin that borders on a smirk. A toothpick hangs from his mouth like something out of a Western.

“Detective Landon?” You say, extending a hand in acknowledgement. “Hello, we spoke on the phone yesterday morning.”

Detective Landon spits the toothpick out of his mouth, maintaining eye contact as he does so. But it isn’t the depth of his gaze that drops yours. You can feel someone else’s eyes searing holes through your skull.

“Well I’ll be,” he drawls, taking your hand and pressing it to his mouth. “Your voice doesn’t do you justice, darling.”

You resist the urge to make a face. It’s awful, unfortunate, but you’re far too used to this. Behind you, Derek raises his eyebrows, sharing an amused look with Emily beside him. Rossi looks exasperated. Spencer’s expression remains unchanged, though he does steal a glance at Hotchner. You smile, the way you always do, refusing to be thrown off by his candour.

“That’s a shame,” you reply breezily, turning to introduce your team. “Detective, this is SSA Morgan, SSA Prentiss, Dr Spencer Reid, and —”

“I’m the unit chief, Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner,” Hotch interrupts, a menacing gravel to his timbre. He doesn’t shake the hand Detective Landon extends to him. The detective draws it back with a gauche bark of laughter, turning his attention to the rest of the BAU.

“My my,” he says, his drawl returning as his eyes meet Emily’s. “What do I gotta do to get in on this team of yours?”

“A formal education would be helpful,” Spencer supplies, squinting at him through his glasses.

Detective Landon turns to him then, raising his eyebrows. “Doctor Reid, was it?”

“It is, but no need to aim that high, buddy,” Morgan says then, stepping forward and patting him on the shoulder. Landon winces. “Now. You going to talk us through what you guys got so far or what?”

“Damn, y’all are a feisty bunch, huh?” He replies, pulling another toothpick out of his breast-pocket. He sends you a wink that makes Hotch’s insides turn, adding, “Don’t mind it on you, sweetheart, but maybe the rest of the BAU ‘oughta play nice.”

Aaron Hotchner would normally agree with his sentiment. He’s been a long time advocate of working alongside the local police in investigations; he recognises that collaboration is far more productive than condescension.

Unfortunately for him, this isn’t quite a normal situation.

Things to do with you and other men rarely are. An ugly green emotion eases his heart right into his throat.

“Or maybe,” Hotchner says crisply, his steely gaze pinning Landon to the spot, “I should have a chat with your Captain and take you off this case.”

Landon balks. “Sir —”

“You’re dismissed,” Hotchner interrupts, not wanting to hear it. He’s unaware of the amused look Emily and Morgan share behind him.

“You…” Landon trails off exasperatedly, shaking his head, “…you can’t dismiss me. This is my case.”

“Actually, it’s the BAU’s case now.” He turns to you expectantly. You think you catch his gaze soften as it falls over your face in paces. Trick of the light, you suppose. “Right?”

“Sure,” you say weakly.

“Right then. Rossi?” Hotch says then, turning to David Rossi autocratically. “Why don’t you and the team go ahead and assess the scene while I head to base and sort out a reassignment.”

“Not you, Reid,” he adds, keeping Spencer in place. “You can come to the station with me, get our replacement up to speed. Sound good?”

Morgan’s trying hard to hide his knowing grin, one side of his mouth upturned with mirth. Emily isn’t bothering to pretend she doesn’t know what’s going on, her pretty features lit up with amusement. Detective Landon looks mortified. Your cheeks feel on fire.

“Alright,” Rossi says after pause, glancing between you and Hotchner. He’s been in the FBI for long enough now that he’s learnt to pick his battles.

He turns around and begins walking toward the crime scene, the three of you trailing behind him with less purposeful strides.

“Huh,” Derek says, faux-thoughtful. You’re wedged between him and Emily, much to your chagrin. “Wonder what that was about. Any ideas, SSA Prentiss?”

“Well, SSA Morgan,” Emily replies, her smile audible. “I’m afraid that our dear old unit chief has a bit of a soft spot.”

“A soft spot?” Derek echoes, letting out a dramatic gasp. “That’s dangerous in our line of work, wouldn’t you say?”

“I would say,” Emily responds sagely.

“Oh shut up, you two,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest. “That wasn’t just about me. He made a pass on Emily too.”

Emily snorts, shaking her head exasperatedly. “Hey Rossi, you got a name for this phenomenon?”

“Oh yeah,” Rossi replies without hesitation, his gaze trained ahead of him. “Ignorance by infatuation.”

Out of earshot, Spencer and Hotchner are having a similarly painful conversation.

“Strange,” Spencer decides, breaking the silence with his candour.

Aaron knows what he’s insinuating. He resists the urge to turn around and steal another glance at your pretty silhouette. “He was behaving inappropriately. There’s nothing strange about it, Spencer. I was protecting my team.”

“The whole team?”

“Yes.”

“Including me?”

“Yes.”

“But I liked him.”

Hotchner sends him an incredulous look. “And what exactly was there to like?”

“He was entertaining, I think,” Spencer replies casually, shrugging. “In a cop way, you know? Plus, I love listening to Y/N reject men. It’s fascinating.”

Hotchner swallows. “Fascinating?”

“She always does it in this way where they don’t even realise what exactly’s happening,” Spencer explains matter-of-factly. He turns to Aaron Hotchner then. “Don’t worry, though, she’d never do that to you.”

Hotchner’s traitorous heart leaps, his mouth pulling into a paradoxical frown. “Spencer,” he warns.

“Just saying,” Spencer replies, raising his arms in surrender.

“Well,” Hotch says grumpily, “don’t.”

“Alright. Noted.”

[re-ikrmso]

Looking at RPD!Universe again and it’s 4th season. Honestly, for all that Ikari is motivated by, one I don’t talk enough about is...fear. I’ve mentioned a lot of things that’s happened to them that can explain that fear but... wow, they are really, really paranoid and fearful. They’re expecting some kind of retaliation. They fold to having what little control taken away. For all that they can do, they’ve always ben severely outclased in ablilites and control. Almost everything they do is in motivation to SPITE. Because they think they’re always being watched in the remade world.They’d self destruct if it killed Eleven. 

They’d self destruct if it saved them from Eleven.

[lustfulslxt]

Spoiled Rotten - Chris Sturniolo

summary : chris spoils you like no other and you show him how grateful you are

warnings : chris basically being a sugar daddy, swearing, m! oral, p in v, breeding kink, probably some other shit idk

a/n : hii, it’s been entirely too long. i’m kinda rusty but i hope this makes up for it!!

—

Getting everything you’ve ever wanted, even without having to ask, is something you never would’ve imagined for yourself. You’ve always had to work so incredibly hard for even the smallest things. Hell, you’ve had to work two jobs since you were old enough to work, just to be able to afford your bills.

Having a deadbeat father and a mother who had passed always made your life hard. It was up to you to keep things afloat. Keeping the bills paid, the kitchen stocked with groceries, the house tidy — it was all up to you, on top of having to keep your grades up to avoid the wrath of your absent yet, for some reason, still abusive father.

After your mom died, everything went downhill. Your father spiraled out of control. Because of his own wrongdoings, he took his anger out on you. He lost his job, gambled away the majority of your family’s savings, and spent the rest of it on alcohol and drugs. He made it all out to be your fault. If you hadn’t stepped up and started working your ass off, you’d definitely be living on the streets right now.

So, from where you were only a few years ago, to where you are now — you never would’ve pictured having any and everything you could ever want. Especially, from someone else’s wallet.

Chris’ wallet.

Your boyfriend knew of your previous struggles. He’d been your best friend since you were in elementary, so he witnessed what you had to do to get by. He’d beg and beg for you to just let him help, but you’d always refuse. If your own father can’t take care of you, why would you expect someone else to?

However, after so long, Chris ignored your reluctance and was quick to pamper you. Quick to provide for you. You’re everything to him, and he wants to make up for your sorry excuse of a father.

He moved you in with him after being together for two years. He doesn’t let you pay for anything. Him and his brothers keep the bills paid, as well as food in the kitchen. Anything to do with money, he’s got covered. And he still makes sure to spoil you rotten. Yet, not without a complaint from you.

“Chris!” You pouted, “Will you put your damn wallet away?”

Instantly, he’s shaking his head, “No. I don’t know why we have to keep going over this. Whatever you want, I’m getting. So, stop complaining and accept it.”

“But-“

He’s quick to cut you off with a peck to your lips. When you huff, he only grins and wraps an arm around your waist, continuing your stroll through the store.

Chris is extremely observant, and he knows you. He knows you like the back of his hand. So, when you turn away from something too quick after checking the price tag, he knows it’s something you like. You’re trying to throw him off and act uninterested in the entire store, but he can read you better than anyone.

So, while you’re off browsing through everything, grabbing the few things that you can afford, in hopes of talking him into letting you pay for it, he’s backtracking and grabbing your size in everything you took a liking in. By the time you make your way to the registers, Chris is already swiping his card.

Upon seeing the multiple bags on the counter in front of him, you can’t help but frown. You slowly turn around, heading to put the few shirts you had grabbed back. There’s no use in trying.

When you head back to Chris, he’s eyeing you with furrowed eyebrows. You walk next to him and he’s looking between you and the rack you were just at.

“Did you want those?” He asks.

You quickly shake your head, “No.”

“Are you sure? I can-“

You instantly loop your arm with his and drag him to the exit. You’re extremely grateful, but you can’t help but a little guilty because he spends so much money on you. You don’t want him to feel obligated just because you had a shitty past.

However, that’s far from how he feels. He just loves and adores you, and wants to give you everything you could ever want.

On the way home, Chris has your hand in his while he drives. Your eyes never leave him as you’re deep in thought. Thinking of everything he’s ever done and continues to do for you makes you so happy you could cry. You just want to show him how appreciative you are.

Pulling up to the house, you notice a big box sitting in front of the door. You furrow your eyebrows for a second, before concluding one of the boys must have ordered something. Once you both get out with the few bags, you head over and Chris picks up the box with a giant smile on his face.

You can’t help but smile at his smile, “Is that for you? What did you get?”

His eyes twinkle as he looks at you, “You’ll see.”

You give him a quizzical look before following him inside. Rather than stopping at the kitchen, he goes straight down to your shared room, so you follow him.

He places the box on the floor and is quick to open it. You set your bags down on the desk chair and walk over to him, your brows raised with curiosity. As soon as he gets the box open, he smiles widely and gestures for you to look and rummage through. Which you do. What you see has you gasping.

“Chris! You did not…”

He proudly nods, “I did, baby.”

Inside the box are numerous purses, shoes, fragrances, and several boxed skincare products. All things you had in your online cart. Things you never actually planned on buying, for the prices are too expensive, and you were only having a little fun.

Your heart swells at the gesture. He’s always doing the absolute most for you. There’s never ever been a time where he’s denied you of something you want, especially if it comes with a price tag.

You turn to Chris, a downward smile pulling to your lips as you look at him. He smiles back, only bigger and brighter. You take his hands in yours and yank him into you. Your lips meet his in a soft kiss. When he pulls away, you’re left chasing his lips for another. Passionately kissing him, until you’re both left breathless.

As soon as you part, you’re pushing him back onto the bed behind him. He falls with a bounce and wide eyes as he stares up at you.

Before he gets a word out, you’re straddling his lap. “You’re always so good to me. Let me be good to you.”

It takes seconds for Chris to start growing beneath your center. You lick your lips and lean forward, diving into a feverish kiss. His hands quickly meet your back, rubbing up and down, and along your sides.

You hum against his lips, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your body. Your hands move from his face to his hair, sharply tugging on it, eliciting a groan from him that makes your heat throb.

You pull away, your breathing shallow as you tug at the hem of his shirt. He leans up to assist you in removing it, before taking your lips in his again. Your hands instantly meet his bare torso, touching along his pecks and running your hands down his abdomen. His skin is hot beneath your fingertips and it stirs something inside of your stomach.

Your tongues dance together, moving in perfect sync with one another. The kiss gets sloppy, saliva coating both of your mouths. Chris is now rock hard beneath you, and you can’t help but grind against him, the two of you moaning into the kiss.

Your hands travel down his stomach, hooking onto his belt. Without parting from him, you undo his buckle and pull the belt from the loops of his jeans.

“God, you’re so hot.” He groans against your mouth.

You grin and push him back, his hair fluffing as his head hits the pillow below him. Your fingers grasp the button on his pants and quickly part it, slowly sliding his zipper down. He bucks his hips into your hands, desperate for more friction.

You lean forward, whispering in his ear, “Easy baby.” You place a kiss on his neck, causing him to shudder. “Promise I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

With one last kiss to his lips, you remove yourself from his lap and kneel beside him. He lifts his hips up to help you pull his pants down, his boxers following shortly after.

His cock stands tall, fully erect. Precum dribbles from the tip as his veins practically throb. Your mouth is watering at the sight. You take him in your palm, gripping softly. He takes in a sharp breath at the feeling, already fisting the sheets.

You stare into his eyes, puckering your lips, and push forward a jewel of saliva. It falls onto his head, trickling down his length, causing his mouth to fall slack as he takes you in.

You never cease to amaze him. Looking so innocent, but about to swallow him whole. He loves everything about you, especially the way you wrap your mouth around him.

Your tongue flicks over the slit of his tip, causing him to let out a small groan. You smile and wrap your lips around his head, sucking softly.

“Fuck..” He whispers, breathlessly.

Letting your mouth salivate even more, you continue teasing him. His breathing is erratic, eyes wide as he watches you. He so badly wants to shove his dick down your throat.

Luckily for him, you stop with the games and take him into your mouth. You force yourself down to the base, your nose pressing into his pelvic bone. He lets out a throaty moan at the feeling of his tip digging into the warm walls of your throat.

You flatten your tongue and begin bobbing your head up and down, working his cock the way he loves. Occasionally humming around him, pulling more moans from his pretty mouth.

“So fucking good.” He groans, bucking into your mouth.

His hands entangle in your hair as you look up at him and give him the slightest nod, keeping your mouth on him. His grip on you tightens, holding you in place as he begins thrusting in and out of your mouth.

The sounds of wet gagging fill the air, topped with his moans and groans. Your eyes prick with tears before they’re soon falling down your cheeks. Your face is flushed and stained with mascara streaks, drool falling down your chin. Chris can’t help but think you look the prettiest you’ve ever looked as he fucks your throat.

Your hand cups his balls, softly massaging them. His moans grow louder from the sensation, his orgasm approaching rather quickly from the combined stimulations.

His thrusts into your mouth grow sloppy and disorganized. His stomach tightens and his arms flex as he’s pushed over the edge. His hands push you into his dick, holding you in place as it bulges through your neck. He tosses his head back with a lewd moan leaving his mouth, his cock simultaneously spilling down your throat. It’s warm as it smoothly coats your throat, almost like honey when you’re sick. You love every bit of it.

Licking around his member, you pull your lips from him, making sure to suck every bit of cum from him. He groans at the sight of you swallowing every drop, and instantly pulls you up to him with a rough grip on your jaw.

He smashed his lips on yours, kissing you deeply and hungrily. Your pussy throbs for more, aching to be filled with his cock. It only takes a few seconds before he’s flipping you over.

He kneels between your thighs and tugs at your shirt, swiftly removing it. You bite your bottom lip in excitement, ready for him to fuck your brains out. His hands are quickly at your shorts, tugging them and your panties off in one motion. Him being eager to be inside you has you clenching around nothing.

His hands grope your bare tits, squeezing them in his palms. Your soft moans only encourage him. One hand goes back and forth between them, tweaking your nipples. His other hand slides between your legs, running through your folds.

He hums, “So wet already. Does sucking my cock turn you on? Hm?”

You only nod, your bottom lip still pressed tightly between your teeth.

“Mm, such a good little slut for me.”

You whine at his words and push your core into his hand, desperate for more. He pulls away from you, his hand suddenly coming down on your pussy in a quick motion, causing you to yelp as your body jerks. Your arousal only leaks more than it was. To which he notices.

He pouts, “Aw, you like that? You want it rough, don’t you?”

Your head quickly shakes up and down, whining as he rubs your clit. “Yes! Please, please. Want you to fuck me dumb.”

It didn’t take much for Chris to become fully erect again. You always do it for him. The second he kissed you after you swallowed him, he was growing again. That’s something you both love. Sometimes, you can go round after round.

He takes hold of his dick and runs it along your pussy. You whimper from the feeling, slightly grinding down into him. After a few teasing touches, his cock his saturated with your juices, making it easier to slide into you.

Your walls stretch around his girth in such a painfully pleasurable way. Your breath is stripped from your lungs as he bottoms out. You’ve never felt so full. His breath staggers from above you, loving the way you hug him so snugly.

He waits for you to adjust, and once he feels you aren’t so tense, he begins rocking in and out of you. Soft moans leave your lips as your hands run up his arms and grip his biceps. He leans down and presses a few kisses to your hand before picking up the speed.

“You feel so fucking good.” He moans, his strokes deep and hard.

Your mouth falls open, continuous moans emitting from it as your eyes roll back while your head falls to the side. Chris nudges your head to the side and attacks your neck with wet and sloppy open mouthed kisses. His hand suddenly wraps around your throat, applying a great pressure as he pushes himself up. His opposite hand grips your tit before smacking it, causing you to moan and clench around him.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you.” He grits, his hips snapping into yours with a strong force.

You want to look, but you can’t. Your eyes are practically stuck rolled into your head. You can hardly breathe with how hard he’s fucking you. Before you can even try, his hand slaps your face. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to feel the remaining sting. You can’t help but gush around his cock, loving every bit of it all.

You forcefully put your head down, eyes straining to focus on him. And boy are you glad. His hair is slick against his forehead, his skin glistening with a sheen layer of sweat. His cheeks are flushed a rosy pink color, his lips plump from your previous make out. His brows are furrowed in concentration and his entire face is struck with absolute pleasure. He looks like a dream.

You reach your hand out to caress his face and he leans into your touch. You love that he can still be sweet while completely wrecking you.

“Tell me how you feel.” He groans as he fucks in and out of you.

You bring your bottom lip in between your teeth, biting hard to control your moans. Though, it doesn’t work as your jaw drops and loud cries fall from your mouth.

His hand meets your jaw, slightly jerking to snap you out of the blissful trance he’s put you in. His eyes are dark as they bore into you, reiterating with every thrust, “Tell me. How you. Feel.”

Your face contorts in pleasure, sobbing out in between thrusts, “Mm, so good. F-feels sooo good, baby.”

“Such a good girl for me.” He coos, breathlessly.

Your mouth falls open, silent moans leaving it as he fucks into you. You’re on cloud nine. Your body feels on fire as pure bliss floods your veins. You can’t help but repeatedly clench around him as your climax nears. Your face contorts in pleasure, nails digging into his arm, leaving behind crescent shapes in his skin. The knot in your stomach tightens before unexpectedly snapping. You clench around his cock, your juices saturating him as you come undone.

He moans at the feeling, burying his face in your neck as he drops down again, digging into you deeper and deeper. “Gonna fill you up, ma. You’d like that, yeah? Give you my babies? Just wanna have even more to give you, you drive me fucking crazy.”

You soak in his words as you come down from your high, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist, pulling him into you. He smirks at your action, pressing a few sloppy kisses on your lips.

“Yeah, I knew you’d like that.” He moans as his thrusts grow erratic and out of rhythm.

His grip on you tightens, surely leaving behind purple finger shaped bruises. He buries cock into you, loudly groaning as he fills you up. He keeps fucking into you, determined to give you all he’s got. As soon as he can’t take it anymore, he pulls out and collapses beside you.

The two of you lay there, sweaty and panting, trying to recover from your intense orgasms. You both meet eyes, silly grins pulling to both of your faces. Neither of you have ever loved someone more.

Before succumbing to the exhaustion he felt, Chris perks up and leans over to his bedside table. “Oh, I got you one more thing.”

He turns back to you with a small black bag in his hand, offering it to you with a bright smile. You look at him with a pout, before taking the bag.

“When are you gonna stop with this?” You question, cheekily adding, “Aren’t your kids enough?”

He chuckles at you, “Just open the bag.”

So, you do. Inside it is a small black wallet — a wallet that is known for being one of a kind. Its intricate patterns are displayed along the material, the infamous logo engraved in the corner. You open it up to further examine it, your brows furrowing at what’s inside. Upon retrieving it, you look at Chris with a deadpan expression. His black credit card.

He smirks at you, “Yours now baby. No limit, so don’t even bother asking before you swipe it.”

—

a/n : ughh, okay so tbh i rushed the ending bc i ended up losing half of what i had since my cellular device is a literal piece of garbage. anywho, fingers crossed this was enjoyable lmaoo. it’s gonna take a minute for me to get back into things! missed you guys tho <3

taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @chrissfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @knowingnothingnoel @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @strnlsblog @venusbabysblog @domaniquessidehoe @mattslolita @junnniiieee07 @pepsienthusiasts @gamermattsgf @cupidsword @iloveneilperry @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @luul223 @matt444nixi @sturniololol

[ellecdc]

Hiyaa, I’m back again for another seer!reader😋

This one’s connected to the other seer!reader, I was thinking, what if mini padfoot inherits his mother’s abilities? Although he still can’t differentiate the line between his visions and dreams since he is really young. So what happened was he dreamt that a wolf was running after him and his baby sibling and he got so scared that he told his parents, then at the end they all figured out it was just a harmless dream?? Yes, angst with a happy ending please😚

Have a great day babes!🩷✨

mini-padfoot stoppppp I love them

poly!marauders x Seer!reader whose son inherits her gift of Sight

CW: hurt/comfort, fluff, Remus spiralling, continuation of this fic

If you had told Remus at any point in his life that he would one day be a doting stay-at-home-father of not one but two children, he would have called you barmy and maybe suggested you be admitted into the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo’s.

But alas, here he was, currently baking in his kitchen whilst his two children napped as he waited for his partners to return home from their various jobs.

And he loved it. 

As if perfect timing, Remus had just slid a sheet of biscuits into the oven and set a quick timer when he heard his oldest starting to cry. 

“I’m coming, cariad.” He called out as he wiped the flour off his jumper and pushed the door open to his son’s room, hoping to calm the crying before he managed to wake his younger sibling. 

“Da!” Leo sobbed, holding his little arms out to Remus. Remus quickly bent down and scooped the toddler up into his arms and began shushing him and bouncing back and forth.

“You’re okay, m’love. Da’s right here.” He murmured into his head of curly black hair. 

Though Remus knew toddlers and babies often cried as they woke up, Leo seemed to be particularly distressed after today’s nap. 

“Hey, hey cariad; what’s the problem, hm? What’s the matter?” Remus cooed as he pulled his son away from his body to examine his face. 

Remus’ heart lurched as he watched the little black-haired, grey-eyed bub rub at his eyes with pudgy fists; lip jutting out as he took in shuddering breaths.

“Saw bad.” He pouted miserably. 

Remus’ heart lurched once again for the poor mini-padfoot who was plagued with his mummy’s gift of Sight. 

“Did you have a bad dream?” Remus asked cautiously. 

After many discussions that Sirius, James, and Remus had with you, they decided it was best to have Leo describe any potential Sights as dreams until he was old enough to be able to cope with potentially unsettling Sights; there was no use in your child stressing over things he could not control or even properly understand yet.

“Yeah.” The boy cried again.

“What was the dream about, my love?”

“Bad wolf.”

Remus felt his blood run ice cold as he stared at his son in horror.

A Bad Wolf.

“What did the bad wolf do, cariad?”

Leo let out a pitiful sniffle as his big eyes stared up imploringly at his father. “He was chasing us, me and my baby sister. I had to carry her but she wouldn’t stop crying and the wolf kept chasing us. He was growling and drooly and just very scary.” He explained, the end of his sentence punctuated with another sob.

Remus’ body seemed to move in autopilot as he pulled the child back into his chest and began rocking him back and forth, murmuring soft encouragements of ‘your safe now’, ‘da’s got you’, and ‘there’s nothing to be afraid of’ even though Remus himself was terrified. 

It was him.

He was The Wolf. 

He was chasing them…hunting them; his own children.

He should have known; he should have known better.

He was a monster through and through and he had no right to endanger the lives of these two innocent babes.

He felt sick and twisted even holding Sirius’ doppelganger in his arms like he had any right to tell him it was all okay and he was safe now. As if he wasn’t currently cradled in the arms of the monster he so feared. 

Remus moved the child to the living room where he popped on a video of Winnie the Pooh or some other children’s cartoon on the muggle telly for him and handed him a small cup of apple slices.

He stood in the corner of the room - the closest he’d allow himself to Leo - chewing at his cuticles until James walked in the door.

“Daddy!” Leo shrieked excitedly as he abandoned the remaining apple slices in favour of launching himself at his father. 

“Hey lovebug!” James cheered back, swinging the toddler back and forth in his arms before putting him back down and letting him race back off to his shows.

“‘Lo Moons! How was- is…is everything okay?” James started, but paused as he noticed Remus’ tense body language. 

“Can you please watch them?” Remus whispered, referring to the one child sitting in front of the telly and the other still sound asleep within her bassinet. 

“Of course.” James started, sounding like he was ready to ask Remus what was going on, but Remus never gave him the chance.

Remus swiftly moved down the hall and closed himself into their bedroom where he let out his own sob that had been stuck in the back of his throat. 

The house smelled heavenly, alerting you to the fact that Remus had been playing around in the kitchen again. You’d been coming home to some of the most delectable pastries and breads that Remus always found some fault in - they were too dense, too flaky, not risen enough etc etc - but they never failed to make your mouth water each and every time.

The pleased smile that had taken over your face as you entered your home quickly vanished when you entered the living room to a tension you weren’t accustomed to in your own home. 

Sirius was standing with the youngest of your two children cradled in his arms as he and James murmured solemnly back and forth, and your oldest watched cartoons completely unaware of any stress colouring the atmosphere around him. 

“Hey you guys.” You offered cautiously, causing Leo to jump up to greet you.

“Hi mummy!” He shrieked, causing your daughter to stir unhappily in his papa’s arms. 

“Where’s Da, pumpkin?” You asked him as he wiggled out of your grasp, clearly eager to return to his shows.

“In bed.” He responded simply, causing you to look at your husbands bemusedly. 

Sirius and James exchanged a glance as James moved over to you. “He’s in the bedroom. He seemed very upset when I got home and all he told me was ‘Leo Saw something’.”

You let out a sigh as you looked over at your son, feeling horribly guilty that he was plagued by the same ‘gift’ that you were. You could remember some of your earliest sights at perhaps only slightly older than he currently was, and how upsetting not only the Sights could be, but how upsetting it could be when they happened to come true.

But, you also knew that at his age, what Remus described as a Sight could easily have been a simple dream.

You made your way down the hallway towards your bedroom, pausing to knock gently twice before letting yourself in.

Remus was sitting hunched over on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands with his back facing you.

You aren’t sure when the last time you saw him look so dejected was, but it caused a horrible lump in your throat nonetheless. 

“Moony, love?” You called quietly, moving slowly around the bed in order to stand in front of him.

He never looked up at you, but a sob escaped him at your words.

“Baby.” You cooed as you knelt; placing your hands on either side of his knee and trying to rub circles with your thumbs in an attempt to get him to look at you. “What happened, my love?”

Through quiet sobs, you managed to catch “He’s scared of me. I’m going to kill him.” 

“Remus.” You said more seriously. “That’s impossible.”

“He saw the Wolf, Y/N.” Remus responded emphatically, pulling his hands away from his face to expose his reddened and swollen eyes and cheeks. “It…it was - I was chasing him, and he was carrying our sweet-” He cut himself off with a hiccup and tried to cover his face again, but you caught his hands and brought them to your cheeks instead. 

“He was trying to protect his little sister, and the Wolf was hunting them. I was hunting them.”

“No Remus.” You argued, but Remus screwed his eyes shut as if your refusal to believe him caused him physical pain.

“Remus Lupin, you listen to me; you would never allow anything to happen to those kids. You love them more than anything in this world; I’ve never been more certain of their safety than when they’re with you.”

Remus didn’t seem completely convinced as he shook his head in disagreement, though he didn’t bother arguing with you. 

“And even if that wasn’t true.” You began, drawing your syllables out to encourage him to return his eyes to yours, which he did. “You have three of us here who also would never allow anything to happen to them. If you don’t trust yourself, don’t you trust us?”

Remus let out a defeated sigh as he rested his forehead against yours; his hands still stationed where you were holding them against your jaw as his thumbs gently rubbed near your cheekbones. 

“Besides,” You added quietly, nudging his nose gently with your own. “I’m a much better Seer than Leo; if anything were to happen to my children - I’d be the first to know.” 

Remus let out a quiet snort at that, causing you to smile. 

“I’m sorry you’ve had a bad day, my love.” You soothed; pulling your head back to press a kiss to his nose only for him to hold your head there and press a gentle kiss to your lips in response.

“It wasn’t a bad day.” He countered. “It was quite good, before he woke up from his nap terrified.”

You let out a sympathetic hum of acknowledgement and pressed another kiss to his lips. “It could have very well been a dream, baby.”

Remus sighed as if he knew that, but just couldn’t help being worried. You understood his dilemma. 

Before either of you could respond, a cautious knock was rapped against the door as James and Sirius both poked their heads in.

“Hey, Moony.” James started, sounding all kinds of guilty.

“So, Leo told us about his dream he had this afternoon.” Sirius continued, grimacing slightly at the admission. 

“Yeah! And, uhm, funny thing…that…” James soldiered on. “It turns out-”

“Red Riding Hood!” Leo squealed as he shoved his head between Sirius and James’ legs.

“What?” Remus asked in bemusement. 

“Well, we had a playdate over with the Lovegood’s yesterday, right? And Xenophilius read this muggle nursery rhyme to them-”

“James…” You groaned, leaning your forehead down on Remus’ knee as he rubbed his thumbs through the baby hairs on the back of your neck.

“Why don’t you tell them what happened next in your dream, bubs. After the wolf was chasing you?” Sirius encouraged.

“Me and sissy got away from the wolf because Mama showed up with two knights and they fought the wolf! And the knights were Daddy and Da, and then we all went and rescued Papa from an evil witch who locked him in a tower!” Leo explained excitedly. 

“Leo,” Remus chided jovially. “You didn’t tell me any of this when you woke up.”

“I forgot!” Leo said with a shrug before he went racing back off down the hallway. 

“Cheeky bastard.” You sighed quietly causing Sirius to bark a laugh. 

“Sure is; he is his father’s son, afterall.”

“I’m so sorry, Rem.” James offered guiltily. “I was just so excited to learn muggle nursery rhymes and stories; I never even made the connection of the Wolf.”

Remus shook his head at his husband in faux contempt as he turned to lean his head against yours once again. “I’m gonna kill him.”

You hummed as if in thought. “No you won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” He asked with a smirk.

You smirked right back. “Because, I would have Seen it.”

“Fair enough.” He whispered back. 

“Right. So, now that we’re all good.” Sirius began. “Can we have those biscuits you made yet? They smell bloody brilliant.

“You can.” Remus replied. “None for Prongs.”

This earned him a bark of laughter from Sirius and a horrified squawk from James.

“Ha ha. You’re in the doghouse.” Sirius taunted James, turning to flee quickly when James turned to glare daggers at him.

You knew James had caught up to him when you heard an inelegant shriek from Sirius and Leo squealing in laughter at his fathers’ antics.

“I love them so much.” You mused aloud.

Remus breathed out a laugh through his nose. “Me too.”

[solxamber]

Match Made in Madness - Floyd Leech x reader

Soulmates get updates of each other's lives through an overly enthusiastic dream narrator. What's worse is that your soulmate seems to be completely unhinged.

It all starts on another one of those nights—the weird dream where your soulmate’s day is narrated to you in the most ridiculous fashion imaginable. No names, no faces, just an over-the-top, enthusiastic narrator who acts like they’re introducing a daytime soap.

"Good evening, soulmate! Ready for another wild day? Well, buckle up, because your beloved got into a fight with a vending machine!"

You groan in your sleep, already bracing for what’s next. The narrator continues with gleeful energy:

"After losing said battle, your soulmate kicked the machine and declared, ‘I’ll have the last laugh, metal box!’ Later in the day, they spent 45 minutes trying to convince a bird to become their personal spy. Spoiler alert: the bird didn’t agree, but they’re not giving up anytime soon!"

When you wake up, you rub your eyes and mutter, "What the hell is my soulmate doing?" Clearly, the universe decided to match you with an absolute madman, and you’re starting to wonder if you’ll even survive meeting them.

The dreams continue for weeks, and the updates get progressively weirder. Whoever this person is, they have the chaotic energy of a tornado in a convenience store. One night, you get this gem:

"Exciting news! Today, your soulmate tried to see if they could juggle three eels at once. Spoiler: they couldn’t, but they did manage to send one flying into a professor’s lunch. Next on the agenda, they challenged the ocean to a race. The ocean won."

You’re so used to these bizarre updates by now that you don’t even flinch. Instead, you’re beginning to wonder why the universe thinks it’s funny to torture you with someone who clearly doesn’t have a firm grasp on reality.

And then one night, the narrator drops a bombshell:

"Your soulmate spent the entire afternoon wondering if there’s any way they could convince their twin brother to switch places with them on a date— Oh wait, forget I said that! That one’s classified!*"

What? Now, you’re officially on edge. Not only do they have a twin, but they’ve been thinking about dating? This is spiraling out of control.

You’re sitting at the Mostro Lounge, thinking about the increasingly unhinged dreams when you spot Floyd Leech across the room. Normally, you’d ignore him because, well, Floyd has a reputation, and it’s not exactly “outstanding member of society.”

But today, something feels off. You’ve heard a few things—people say he’s chaotic, unpredictable, and obsessed with “playing” with his victims. And suddenly, you can’t stop thinking about the dream where your soulmate tried to juggle eels.

Floyd catches your eye, and before you can look away, he’s making a beeline for your table. Oh no. Please no.

“Hey, Shrimpy,” he says with his usual, lazy grin, flopping down in the seat next to you like he owns the place. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Close enough.

You swallow hard. “Uh… just thinking.”

“Thinking, huh?” Floyd leans in, uncomfortably close. “What about?”

How are you supposed to say, I think you’re my soulmate, but I’m also convinced you’re a lunatic? Instead, you nervously laugh. “Oh, nothing. Just… dreams.”

“Dreams, huh?” Floyd’s eyes narrow, but he looks more interested than suspicious. “Like… those ones where some random guy is juggling eels?”

Your blood runs cold.

“Wait—how did you know about the eels?”

Floyd’s grin widens. “Oh? So it is you! I knew it!” He laughs, leaning back with a satisfied look, like he’s just solved the greatest mystery of his life. “Shrimpy, you’re hilarious! I’ve been having those dreams about you, too. You’re always doing weird stuff, like… rescuing ducks or tripping over your own feet.”

Your heart races. “Wait, so—you're my soulmate?”

“Duh,” Floyd says, rolling his eyes like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “The universe has a sense of humor, doesn’t it?”

At first, you’re convinced this is a prank, a cruel joke. But the more you talk to Floyd, the more everything starts to click into place. He’s chaotic, sure. Completely unpredictable? Absolutely. But he’s also the same person who, according to your dreams, once wondered if seaweed could be used as a fashion statement. He’s also the guy who—oh right—challenged the ocean to a race.

And now that you’ve met him, you realize one important detail: he’s perfect.

Well, perfect in the most unhinged way possible.

A week later, you find yourself in an increasingly ridiculous situation—Floyd has somehow convinced you to help him “steal” a giant fish from the campus pond.

“Why are we doing this again?” you ask, holding the bucket as he dives headfirst into the water.

“Because,” Floyd says between splashes, “the fish looks like he’s having a bad day, so we’re gonna give him a makeover.”

You stare blankly at the pond. “You want to makeover a fish.”

Floyd pops back up, water dripping from his hair, with a grin that could melt glaciers. “Yeah! Why not?”

You don’t have a good answer for that, so you just shrug. This is my life now.

That night, you’re lying in bed, starting to doze off, when the dream narrator pops up again:

"Good evening, soulmate! Today, your other half tried to give a fish a new look. It didn’t work, but they still had fun! Also, they’ve been thinking about holding your hand."

You wake up with a groan, rubbing your face in disbelief. Of course, Floyd would think about something like that in the middle of a fish-stealing escapade. But there’s something undeniably sweet about it, too.

The next day, Floyd grabs your hand without warning as you’re walking through campus. “I had a dream about this,” he says casually, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

You smile, squeezing his hand back. “So did I.”

Maybe the universe isn’t such a prankster after all.

Masterlist

[mommynott]

I see you have requests open 😈

May I please ask for a Theo Nott MASKED death eater fic/blurb/whever-you-want where he's morally grey, dommy, and dirty talks MC. Plz, Thank Youuuu 🫶🏼 Ily!

Hehehe

Anything for you Ashy 🖤

Hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Unmasked

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: You find yourself in a…sticky situation after Theo comes back from detention early. But those fantasies of yours surely become a reality.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, dom!theo, deatheater!theo, mask kink, rough sex, edging, degrading, dom+sub, masturbating, PIV, choking, slight slapping, it’s Theo Nott destroying you with a little ✨spice✨ A college AU, Chars 18+

As you waited for Theo to complete his detention, you idly played with the green tassels on his bedspread. Your gaze wandered over to the wall where his Death Eater mask hung. It seemed to be staring at you, menacing as ever, and it brought back memories of the chaos and pain caused by the war. But there was something else too…a strange attraction to the dark, mysterious object. You wondered what it would be like to see Theo wearing it again.

But this thought wasn’t a first, no, you’ve had many thoughts of Theo wearing that silver-painted mask. And those thoughts were definitely far from innocent. Your dainty hand ran through the tassels once more before slowly going to your breast. The little squeeze you gave yourself causing a moan to set free from your lips. Fuck, stop. He’s your friend. But you couldn’t, not when IT hung right beside you, your eyes gleaming up to the mask.

Trailing down further, your fingers traced to the inside of your plaid skirt, slowly creeping to your damp panties. With ease, you lifted the cloth material, finding your needy little clit immediately. It was as if the mask took control, guiding you to the filthiest depths of your mind, wanting you to reach that sweet release. Your gaze remained locked on it, the sounds of your wetness, along with your moans only getting progressively louder as time went on.

You were lost in a space of bliss, the visual of the mask, the scent of Theo’s cologne on his bedsheets. It was almost too easy to get turned on. You picked up the pace, swirling your fingers around your swollen bud. But just as you were nearing the climax you yearned for, the door swung open. Being stuck in this euphoric state, you had no idea Theo had walked in early from his detention.

Theodore’s jaw dropped at the sight of you masturbating in his bed. But your eyes were glued up to something. That damn mask. He followed your gaze along the wall and when he noticed what exactly you were staring at, a smirk twitched on his lips. This was something out of a damn porno film because if he was honest he had always wanted to destroy you. Explore you. Please you. “Are you…”

His voice was firm and assertive, waiting to get your full attention before continuing his sentence. You gasped, your wide eyes stuck on him in embarrassment. What the actual fuck? How do explain myself? Your lips parted but no words could come out. Lost in a tranced mix of arousal and shame, you couldn’t find the right thing to say. Theo took another stride toward his bed.

“-Are you touching yourself…? In my bed?”

Theodore asked, his voice dripping with seduction. Almost as if it was the honeyed venom of a snake, coaxing you to keep on going. Your fingers slowly worked at your clit, your blissful stare up on his. “I-…Yes…” Gods-what the fuck was happening? He’s my friend. Your thoughts. Your body. Everything seemed to be spiraling.

“You didn’t come yet…let me-“ He cut himself off with a shake of his head. The sly and sinister smirk only seemed to grow wider while he took another step closer to you. His darkened gaze focused on your drenched little slit. “You know…I could always get you off…” Yes fucking please. He barred his teeth, your gaze shifting back up to the mask but only momentarily. But Theodore noticed this, only finding it all too amusing. This would be a fun fucking night.

“You…you want to-fuck…you want to do this?” Through your little whimpers, your fingers seemed to move faster, not even realizing what you were doing. “I’ve wanted to do this….for a very…very long time, Tesoro.” The Italian rolled off of his tongue in a rugged manner. Hunger danced in his ocean eyes as he crawled onto his bed, one hand reaching up to grab the Death Eater mask. Wiggling it in front of you as if he was taunting you. But fuck, it was only fueling the feelings of arousal.

Theo slapped your pussy over your own hand, a yelp screeching from your mouth as you pulled your fingers away. “No…If you want to do this…we’re doing it my way.” He growled, nothing but dominance and assertiveness in his dilating pupils. “O-okay…understood.” You swallowed, watching his every move. Wanting to know what was next. Of course, you had heard the stories of Theodore in bed…but you were about to fucking experience it. First hand.

Setting the mask down on the bed, but only for a moment, Theo threw off his t-shirt, letting it fall beside the bed before grabbing the ominous mask. Slowly, he positioned it over his face, a loud huff coming from under it. He hadn’t put on this mask in ages. Not since the war. It was painted with terrible memories…but maybe…just maybe…this night could bring some light to it. A different perspective the slate object could see. Not just the bad but perhaps the good as well.

“Good fucking girl.” Theo was exhilarated already, his cock wanting to Burst through his grey sweatpants. He took his time, his hand trailing down your flesh. As he got further and further goosebumps pricked your skin. This was fucking it. Arriving at your pushed-over panties, he twirled them between his pointer finger and thumb before tearing them right off. The fantasy you always had of Theo wearing this mask as he had his way with you was finally becoming a reality.

The soaked lace was now a mangled bunch resting beside you. But you too were a fucking mess. Not just any mess…but tonight? Theo’s mess. His heavy hand slapped down across your wetness once more, causing your back to arch. “So fucking ready for me, hm?” He asked, his shadowy stare burning into you from under the mask. The metallics of it glowing under the dim lantern lamps. “Y-yes” you managed to choke out just as Theodore shoved two fingers inside of you.

“Gods…that little pussy is gripping my fingers-So fucking tight.” Theo spoke between his own groans while his fingers pumped in and out of you, doing a ‘come here’ motion. He was hitting places you never even knew existed, your nails clawing into his bed sheets as you took in this massive amount of pleasure he was providing you with. “I-…T-Theo...I’m so close.” A squeak came out followed by a sea of moans, squirming under his rough touch.

For a split second Theo thrusted his fingers faster, his lips curling into a dangerous grin before he removed his fingers out of you. “Not. Yet.” His tone was firm and assertive yet again, you bobbed your head while you caught your breath. But before you could utter a single word, he began again. “I told you…if you really want this…we’re doing it my way.” Your glossed-over eyes flickered up between his. The silver-painted mask seemed to darken with its own dominance. As if it was feeding off of Theodore’s energy.

“You finish when I say you can….Understood?”

You could see his gaze narrow down at you from beneath the mask, hearing his breaths turn into muffled growls. “U-understood.” You slowly whispered, Theo shuffled his grey sweatpants off. But when your eyes dropped to his cock, you had to bite your lower lip to hide the gasp that wanted to escape. Fuck, he’s huge. A prideful smirk painted his face while he stroked his length slowly, the slight wet sounds of his precum coating it whole.

“C’mere.” With that, he grabbed your thighs, spreading them further apart before pulling you closer to him. Theo threw one leg over his shoulder, propping himself with one hand as the other teased the tip of his dick right on your slippery entrance. “I’m going to fucking destroy you, Tesoro.” He growled just as he slammed himself deep inside of you, immediately hitting you with a fast speed. Your once moans turning into sobs of pleasure.

Theo took his now free hand and wrapped it around your throat. Providing just enough pressure to make your mind go fuzzy with ecstasy. “You’re fucking-fucking huge!” With a stuttered cry your doe-eyed gaze remained glued up to your friend wearing the death eater mask, fucking you like it was his last time ever having sex. Gods…I have never been fucked like this. Why is it so…fucking amazing?

“Yeah? You like taking my cock, bella? Feeling all nice and full, huh?”

Again with the taunting but fuck did you love it. Feeling yourself progressively getting closer with each thrust Theo gave you. Slowly feeling your eyes roll into the back of your head before a domineering tone took you out of that brink of bliss. “Not fucking yet” He grunted, pounding into you even harder than before. “Hold on just a little while longer. I know you can fucking do it.”

How in the fuck am I supposed to hold back an orgasm? His hand that was wrapped around your neck began to get tighter, almost like it was a warning shot from Theodore. You could have sworn your nails were tearing up his bedspread with how hard you were digging into them. Feeling your legs tremble as they wrapped around his lower back.

“I…I don’t know how much longer-Fuck! How much longer I can hold on” Tears were pricking your eyes as you struggled to not reach climax, the blurry view of the mask in front of you only teasing you more. And under it? Theo’s shit-eating grin was only growing by the second. Thriving off of your submissive energy. “C’mon, pretty girl…just a little bit more…don’t disappoint me. I know you can hold it.”

You weren’t even quite sure if you could hold it, how in the fuck was he so confident that you could? But you complied, like a good fucking sub. And boy did Theo fucking adore that. His fingers trickled up your neck, to your jaw, before grazing his pointer and middle finger at the crease of your lush lips. “Open.” He demanded, your lips parting as he slowly moved them in and out of your mouth. Somehow managing to hush your moans.

“-Mmm…Theo..” you whimpered over his thick fingers while he completely lost it, railing you with great force. He could feel his own orgasm coming on as he watched your mascara drip down your face. Watching you fight your climax. The way his mask turned you on. The way HE turned you on. “Release, Cara Mia…cum all over my cock.” In a low growl, he removed his fingers, his thrusts only seemed to accelerate, even when you thought it was nearly impossible for them to do so.

That was it. The burning approval you had been waiting for…Yearning for. You didn’t even need to think about it. At those words, you felt your body convulse in an orgasmic state. Your screams bounced off of the stone walls in Theodore’s dorm room. Your legs only gripping tighter around his lower back. Hitting one of the most intense and blissful orgasms of your entire life. “Theo, oh m-“ He instantly cut you off, giving a soft smack across your face before grabbing your cheeks between his hand.

“Shut up and do it again…I know you have it in you.” He demanded, seeing his once light blue stare now black, his pupils fully dilated with arousal. Usually, you couldn’t finish with anyone, let alone someone ordering it out of you. But Theo….Theo was different. “Fuck-I’m cumming!” You cried out, arching your neck against his now-warmed pillow. Feeling your juices flowing freely along Theodore’s giant length. Reaching your second orgasm within seconds. The power this man holds…that fucking mask…

Theo’s ego was only growing, two orgasms in such a short amount of time? Pride washed throughout him. But just seeing you in the immense amount of pleasure he was giving you, you couldn’t hold back any longer. “I’m going to fill up that pretty cunt.” He grunted, sliding both of his hands to your hips and getting a good grasp while he mercilessly pounded into you. His head tilted back just as you heard a low groan escape from his throat. His seed spilling deep inside of you, feeling his cock throb around your clenched walls.

Pulling out of you, Theo kept the mask on while catching his breath. His gaze dropping to his cum dripping out of your swollen pussy. With one hand, he lifted the mask off for a better view of it. Finding his seed leaking out of you insanely sexy. Marking you with his own sperm. Fuck. His hair was a mess while he smirked down at you. “You alright, Cara Mia?” He asked as he threw his sweats back on, grabbing a towel to clean you up.

You were dumbfounded, not even able to believe what had just happened. The mask he threw beside you almost seemed to have a smirk of its own. “Y-yeah, I’m good.” You spewed out in a breathy manner, feeling the afterglow hitting you, the sense of relaxation. Theodore took this time to grab a t-shirt of his, helping you dress in it before laying down next to you, tossing an arm around you to pull you close to him. Both of your body heat radiating off of one another.

“Anything you need at all?” He asked as he glanced down at the mask. A deep chuckle escaped his lips while he shook his head. “No…just you.” Your sweet smile was evident to Theo that you were In a submissive state. Causing him to press a lingering kiss to the side of your head. “Well…You have me…and the mask.” Teasing you, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. A smirk tugging on the edge of your lips.

“I suppose I do…but I prefer you…unmasked.”

The mask, a hidden desire of course, but it didn’t compare to Theo. As much as you enjoyed the sight of getting destroyed by a masked man, you enjoyed seeing his handsome face, his tired eyes, and his lazy smile much more. And this night? It only started a new chapter for the both of you. Nothing could compare to Theodore Nott. Absolutely nothing.

Love you so much Ash🖤

Divider is tagged in my master list🌙

Asks are always open for requests my smut sluts💋

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

UNTOUCHED. 18+

pairing. dbf!bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count. 2967

summary. you thought your crush on your dad’s best friend would never be reciprocated. but it turns out, that’s not true

warnings. 18+ only!! age gap (20s, 40s) dbf, 'experienced' virgin reader, body worship, titty stuff, fingering, unprotected pinv sex, soft dom bucky. minors dni

rewrote this from a request I did

You often felt a spiral of shame surrounding your thoughts. Thoughts that no one should be having of a parents friend. 

And yet, it was happening. 

These abashed notions of your father's best friend clouded your mind far too regularly for you not to question your moral judgment. You would often find moments where you told yourself lies to feel better, saying that it was natural to feel this way about someone you can't have - someone you shouldn't have. But with most things in life, the more you can't have it, the more you want it.

This impromptu lakehouse vacation with your parents and said friend has been the most challenging strain on your ethical code. Every stolen glance feeling that much more intimate, given the circumstance. Almost confined within the same household for the past several days - forced into family dinners, nudged into game nights, all of it intensifying your attraction towards him.

These thoughts of utter infatuation continue as you watch Bucky and your dad at the pool table across the room, your pen tapping rhythmically on your chin as you pretend to think about the words on the notepad. Your perfect little ruse while you gawk at the hunky man leaning over the felt table, large bicep flexed with the cue slotted underneath.

Staring at him like that with eyes so eager and attentive made you feel juvenile —pathetic— the whirlwind of schoolgirl-like emotions that followed with a crush so prohibited made you feel confused. It would've been easier to take a liking to a guy your own age, to a guy you'd maybe have a shot with, but no. It was on someone completely off-limits and someone you should not be thinking of in the way you do.

The illogical connotations that followed with the infatuation seemed to heighten everything - everything within your little delusion growing more and more dramatised. 

So now, when you meet Bucky's momentary gaze from across the way for the fifth time, you begin to overthink everything, all prior thoughts spiralling out of control. With an uneasy inhale, you briefly drop your head into your hands and then collect your things, bunching everything into a pile - leaving it neatly on the coffee table.

You slip out of the main room, going undetected as you head for your bedroom across the house. Once within your own space, you take a moment to compose yourself - to give yourself a second to regulate the dirty thoughts that hogged the rational parts of your brain. 

But to no avail, it fails. 

Instead, you make your way into your ensuite and turn on the water, hoping that your second shower of the night will clean your mind this time.

You allow yourself some time in the shower, standing in near silence as you lather the soapy loofah on your skin, doing everything you can to fight off the want. All earlier feelings slowly being replaced by a slither of sanctity.

After a short while, you shut off the water and wrap a towel around your body, patting yourself dry before rubbing on some quick creams. Opening the door, you see an outline of someone sitting on the side of your bed - their —his— broad, upper figure acting as a surely silhouette in the moonlight. 

"You're in the wrong room," you say - speaking softer than you'd have liked. "Shouldn't be in here," you add, gripping your towel tighter.

"No?" Bucky hums, almost pleased. Cocking his head to the side as his eyes slowly rake over you, gaze trailing up the exposed parts of your body that are lit in the moon's cast.

You shake your head, pointing at the door. 

Instead of doing as you asked, he reaches for the lamp on your bedside table and flicks it on. Turning his attention back to you, he scans over your body with that subtle hint of possessiveness he often wears around you. Blue eyes bloomed up, taking you all in. 

You rush over and hastily grab his hand - pulling down on the chained switch to turn it off. But his hand underneath yours pulls back down on it, letting in a gentle flood of light, allowing him to see you clearly again. 

And only now do you really see his face. Eyes primal as they look up at you standing between his spread thighs, hand wrapped tightly over his on the pull-chain. Keeping his focus on you, he brings his spare hand up to rest on your hip, palm grazing along the towel covering the curve.

"Saw you looking at me earlier," he finally speaks, words faint and low as he slips his hands into both of yours - holding them.

You gently shake your head and divert your gaze to your hands, looking down at the difference in size - how his large ones almost engulf yours. "I don't know what you're talking about," you lie, tone breathy. 

He brings your hands towards his face and places a soft kiss on the back of each, keeping his eyes locked at you from above. "Liar," he whispers into the skin. "Thought your parents taught you not to lie."

"Don't talk about them," you utter, breath catching in your chest, watching your hands in his. 

"You don't want them to know you got a thing for your old man's friend?" he asks, voice silky as he fiddles with your fingers. The act like a tender caress, his big, rough hands uncharacteristically gentle with you - everything like you pictured them to be. 

You shake your head a singular time, the motion faint.

"I don't want my friend to know I have a thing for his daughter either."

Meeting his now earnest eyes, you see that he held truth within his confession - his expression purely genuine under your focus. His fingers continue with the playful teasing in yours, his sole attention locked on you standing between his wide-spread thighs.

He carefully releases your hands and lets them hang at your sides, your fingertips skimming at his knees. Your eyes hone in on him, intently watching him resume his visual survey of you.

His hands reach for the opening of your towel, looking up to a hesitant expression on your face - features pulled together with uncertainty. This was all so foreign to you, and you didn't know what do to with yourself. You've wanted this so bad, for so long, but now that it was actually and finally about to happen, you felt at a loss. 

"You haven't done this before?" he asks rhetorically, knowing what that tentative look means.

With your silence, his question gets answered. That same possessive expression resurfacing. 

He weaves a finger to the opening at the bottom of the towel, hooking it aside to reveal the very upper of your thigh - the soft, plushy skin looking the more tempting. 

"I'll be gentle with you," he whispers, voice hoarse as his finger slips higher, exposing the crease just under your hip bone - that irresistible line right next to your cunt. "You tell me to stop, and I will."

Though no words come from your lips - silently agreeing.

With his singular finger parting higher, the towel untucks from its hold around your chest, the fabric undoing and falling to the floor - pooling around your feet as you stand naked in front of him. His fully clothed self juxtaposing the sheer bareness of you. 

His attention dances over your body slowly, taking all of you in - letting the image curate in his brain for safekeeping. Eyes temporarily focus in on your tits a mere foot away from his face, slowly travelling down your stomach and finally to the beautiful, tempting, untouched thing between your thighs. Your pussy.

He places his palms back over your hips, hands almost dwarfing you as he guides you closer - making you take a step towards him. 

"So no one has ever..." he starts, bringing his hands up to cup your tits. "Seen them, touched them?" he asks, rolling them gently, eyes flicking up at you.

"No," you utter, bottom lip bitten as you eagerly watch him palm your breasts. 

"Good," he murmurs, brushing his thumbs over the perk nipples. 

The action causes a hitch in your breath, his touch so unlike that of your own during late-night solo sessions - the feeling of another person's touch coating your body with goosebumps.

He leans in closer to you and presses a kiss into your rib, the faint contact of his lips on your skin making you shudder. Though, he doesn't pull away. He continues with a trail of soft kisses up the underneath part of one of your tits, lips grazing along the dome-like shape - eyes locked on yours.

He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, wrapping his lips around it - tongue flicking over it leisurely between kisses. Shame and lust and excitement rise to heat your cheeks, and you drop your head backwards at the feeling, puffed lips parting as you squeeze your eyes shut. 

"Feel good, hm?" he muffles against the plush of your tit, moving to the other - giving it the same attention. 

You hum sweetly, mind blank. You bring your hands to rest on Bucky's broad shoulders, your fingers digging into the swell of his muscle as you use him for stability - thumbs brushing against the base of his neck. You straighten your neck to look down at him, watching the way his lips caress your nipples.

You glide a hand along the side of his head, teasing fingers dragging across his scalp as if to hold him there - like you were trying to keep him glued to you. But he pulls away, and you bashfully rip your hand from its placement in his hair. 

"Sorry."

Resting his hands on your waist, he looks up at you, turning his attention away from the wetness around your nipples. "For what?"

"Think I made it awkward," you whisper.

"When?"

"Now. Just then."

"You didn't," he assures, trailing kisses down the valley of your chest, working featherlight pecks along the top of your abdomen.

"No?"

"No," he confirms.

His hands stroke over your hips, palms light and tender as they caress you. He nudges you forward, making you take another step closer - his grip directing you and making you perch upon his thigh, guiding you to straddle it. 

His placement on your hips slips upwards, moving into a gentle but surely hold in the middle of your back. Like he was taking charge, doing the thinking for you - letting you turn your mind off. 

You loosely drape your arms off his shoulders. "I haven't..." you start, pausing as if to think of the words. "Done... this before."

"I know," he hums and leans in to place a kiss at the base of your throat, trailing them upwards - working up to your jaw. "Don't worry about it. I got it."

With one hand now on the side of your face, the other in its spot on your lower back, he pulls you towards him and rolls over into the mattress, holding you to him as he does so. He repositions you underneath him - hovering from above to your side. Almost cradling you with his lips resuming their previous spot on your throat. 

Bucky leisurely grazes his hand down your stomach, moving steadily towards your inner thighs. He's slow and teasing with it, making you wait - letting the anticipation build impossibly further before he finally slides to where you wanted him. 

He slides the tips of his two middle fingers over your cunt, the pads coating with a creamy sheen of your arousal as he gently parts your folds. Like the feeling of his mouth on your breasts, this sensation was so unlike that of your own. The foreign touch of another person is solely enough to elicit gentle dulcet noises from you.

He pulls his forehead from that spot in the crook of your neck, adjusting to glance down at you - his eyes low and lidded as he looks into your eager ones. Your pretty eyes so trusting and willing under his attention.

He teases his middle finger around your entrance, the pressure almost non-existent as he circles over it. Just slow movements as he watches the knitting of your brows - the rest of your features blissfully pulling together. He's being so softly dominant with you, every touch made with tender precision.

He eases his finger into your cunt, the thickness of it a slight stretch as he curls it up into you, hooking up against that spongy spot. He keeps it there, pressing a kiss into your cheek.

Ever so slowly, he begins rocking it into you - the heel of his palm rubbing nicely against your clit as he does so. He's patient, listening to your body, waiting for it to tell him what it wants. 

Even though you were inexperienced, that didn't mean you don't know your body - know what it wants. You've had years with yourself cultivating your likes, but you've just never had someone to fulfil them. You knew the things you need and where you needed them, and it happened that Bucky knew it, too. He knew it all without you having to voice it. 

His finger pumps into your pussy, the motion a slow, steady rocking, moving into you as if he was trying to familiarise you - get you used to the feeling of having someone else inside of you.

"Listen to how wet you are."

He drags along the inside of your cunt before easing out and bringing his finger up to you, showing you the ringed milky sheen above his last knuckle. He licks over the skin to lap up your arousal - like the act was muscle memory, a process he didn't need to think about.

Your eyes compliant and eager as you look up at him, darting over his face as if to process what had just happened. The warm, fluttery feeling of being indulged pushed you into a tizzy and the look on his face as he did it, expanded the need unbearably further between your thighs.

He coos softly and readjusts you up the length of the bed. Cupping the back of your head, he peels it from the mattress and places a pillow underneath - getting you comfortable. Taking the lead, taking care of you. 

Kneeling between your open thighs, he tugs off his tee, his upper body like everything you had pictured - rugged, sculpted, beefy, a true sight.

And he was on his knees, between your legs.

You lay there somewhat patiently, mind whirling as you watch his hands slip into the waistband of his plaid lounge bottoms, the slight force down on the fabric exposing himself to you. Your eyes rake down his stomach and to his happy trail, eager cock standing attentively below - the sight almost intimidating. 

The first real cock you've seen and sure to ruin all future expectations.

He hovers over you, his weight anchored on a singular hand beside your head - the other wrapped around his cock, stroking himself as he guides his head closer.

"I'll go slow," he whispers, his voice soft and gentle, speaking mere inches from your lips.

You nod, the motion faint as you slip your hands into the sides of his hair, fingers skimming his scalp. Doing what you've read - doing what you've seen, not letting your lack of experience awkwardly taint the moment you've been waiting for. 

With his grip on the base of his cock, he nudges himself closer - his leaking tip pressing up against the warmth of your cunt. He pushes his head through your messy folds, collecting your arousal as if it were lube. 

Easing his head into your pussy, he stills, letting you adjust to the unfamiliar sensation - the stretch of your walls opening to accustom him. Keeping his eyes on yours, he looks out for discomfort, only to find none - your features clouded with lust and bliss and obedience. 

With your silent encouragement, he slips in a little more of himself - the girth of his upper shaft creating a mellow, tame burn in your cunt.

"Such a pro," he praises, moving the hand from his cock to place on the side of your face - his palm warm as it rests against your cheek, holding you. "S'good," he mutters, tone strained as he kisses under your jaw.

Your dulcet, sultry noises ring like music to Bucky's ears - the sounds like everything he's imagined them to be, if not better. The soft, breathy, whiney moans combined with the wet clicking of your cunt, egg him on more than he thought to be possible. More than he was used to.

He momentarily parts focus from your face, instead glancing down your stomach to look between your thighs, watching himself sink into you - the swallowing of your pussy pulling him back in for more. The creamy ring forming around the base of his cock. His new favourite sight.

Your eyes so full of lust and trust - everything about you in this position igniting something deeply possessive within him. 

And though you were still new to sex, he wanted to ruin you - obliterate your standards so that you keep coming back for more. He knew in his mind that was wrong, but when he watches your face knit with waves of bliss, he can't help but think he's not alone in that feeling.

He knew this wasn't going to be a one-time thing. And in your heart, you knew that, too.

lwk hate this, but in my drafts so worth posting

[flemingsfreckles]

In Control (18+ g!p)

Synopsis: After Jessie leaves you high and dry one morning before training, you decide to take matters into your own hands when she returns home late that evening.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), g!p smut, simulated sex (think dry humping without clothes 🙃), oral sex (r giving), delayed orgasm/edging, lots of grinding, sort of ruined orgasm, dirty talk, slight dom/sub dynamic, overstimulation,

WC: 4.4k

A/N: hi, I know g!p isn’t everyone’s thing, but I had this idea and couldn’t get it out of my brain so I needed to write it. I also promise I’ve got some non-g!p smut in the works as well as some non-smut stuff. I’ve just had to take a bit of a break to deal with some real life things and take time after the election to compose myself and take some time to care for myself. I promise other stuff is slowly being worked on, this is just what was the most completed.

“Babe, don’t!” You scolded Jessie as she lay behind you, subtly grinding the hard on she had woken up with into your ass.

“Don’t what?” Her voice, still deep with sleep

“You know what you’re doing, you’re going to get me all worked up, then leave me high and dry when your alarm goes off in,” you lean over to look at the clock, “8 minutes, and then you get to go work off steam at practice while I’m stuck here without you!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She whispered, before placing an open mouth kiss on the side of your neck, her arms slowly wrapping around your midsection. Her fingers draw lines across your stomach and begin to trail up to your chest as she continues gently grinding herself into you. It takes everything in you to not roll your hips back, you couldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she already had you worked up.

As you predicted, Jessie’s alarm rang out just a few moments later and suddenly her hands were gone and the bed behind you was empty as Jessie moved into the bathroom to get ready. When she came back out in a shirt and shorts you couldn’t help but notice the still prominent bulge she had.

“You didn’t take care of yourself in there?” You say, still eyes her up.

Shaking her head Jessie smiled at you, “I’m saving it for you, plus it’ll go away in a minute or two once I’m thinking about training and not my sexy girlfriend.”

“Go then, but give me a kiss first.” You reach a hand out in her direction.

“I love you.” She says as she walks over to where you remained in bed.

“I love you.” Your lips meet in a quick kiss. “You better be ready to go when you get home, none of this I’m too tired from training shit. You’ve fucked me after playing 90 and then going to after parties, you can handle it after a training session.” You smile up at her, giving her a quick wink, making sure she knew you were teasing.

“I promise, I’ll make it worth the wait, I’ll have you screaming my name baby.” She responded with a cocky tone, letting her hand trail down your sternum before placing one final kiss on your lips. “We’re done at 1:30, I’ll be leaving there around 2:30 at the latest, I promise. 3 o’clock I’m all yours.”

You sighed heavily as you checked the time again. 2:30 came and went, no text from Jessie that she’d be home soon, then it was 2:45 still no word from her, and then it was 3:00. You had gotten yourself all ready 30 minutes before Jessie was supposed to be home And here she was, late.

You had gone into the closet, finding the small shopping bag you had purchased the other day. Inside of it a tight, dark blue lacy bra with a matching thong to go with it. You had put both on, then perched yourself on your bed in anticipation for Jessie’s return home, waiting for her to come and follow through on her promise to have you screaming her name.

You were annoyed at first, Jessie never blew you off. She was a terrible texted but she kept you updated on where she was, when she’d be home. This was unusual behavior, you were worried about her, maybe something happened, maybe she had gotten injured. Your early stages of spiraling were put to rest when Jessie finally returned your messages at 3:21.

Jessie ☺️: I’m so sorry, I got caught up in some impromptu press stuff I didn’t know about, I’ll be home soon.

Slightly frustrated with her, you decide to get your revenge. Smirking to yourself you open your phone's camera before sliding your hand to the waistband of your thong. You move your hand down between your legs, taking a moment to touch yourself before deciding to take a photo. It wasn’t overly explicit, just showing your hand between your legs and a teasing glimpse of the blue lace, but it would get the idea into Jessie’s head.

You: I was told I’d be getting pleased by 3, just didn’t know I’d have to do it myself.

You watch as the message goes from delivered to read. You watch as she types for a moment, then stop, no message ever being delivered. You roll your eyes, losing your phone before lying back, letting your fingers mindlessly play with your core, not really trying to get yourself off but more just enjoying the feeling.

You heard the jingle of her keys and the door shut followed by quick footsteps and the bedroom door swinging open not long after. Jessie stood in the doorway still wearing her training kit. Her eyes fall to where your hand was still inside the lacy fabric.

“Oh wow.”

“Nice of you to show up.” You say firmly at her, sitting yourself up on your elbows, taking your fingers away from where they had been on your clit.

“I know, I’m so sorry, we just had media stuff that no one told us about.” As Jessie begins her frustrated rant regarding having to participate in media and the lack of warning your eyes can’t help but wander down her body to the slightly obvious tent of her training shorts.

“I just wish they’d given us a heads up, that would’ve been nice, but no, they made us all train and then shower and then we had to get back into clean training kits and pretend we were training again for photos.” Jessie continues on rambling.

Deciding you had heard enough you push yourself up from the bed and walk over to her. She continues talking, eyes now closed in frustration, complaining about her day until she feels your hand fall between her legs, cupping the noticeable arousal. Her eyes immediately open, falling to where your hand rested.

“Should we do something about this?” You look at her, giving a gentle squeeze to her bulge. She nods and you reach for her neck with your free hand, pulling her in hard to kiss you. Her body pressed into yours, letting her covered bulge grind against you. “Hang on Jess.” You manage to clear your mind enough to push her away gently. She steps back, her eyes trailing over your nearly naked body, drinking you in with her eyes.

“God I’m so lucky.” She mumbles to herself. You feel shy and yet confident under her gaze, knowing you could make her like this felt good.

“Lay down.” You say nodding at the bed. Jessie questions you with a glance. You throw your hands up. “Just do it, let me put on a show for you.” Running your hands over the lace of the bra you try to sell the lie you were telling her. You knew if you told her what you were about to do, she’d be stubborn. Promising a show would get her on the bed easily.

As you expected she quickly climbs on the bed situating herself in the middle. You follow her, making your way towards where she laid. Jessie sits up one hand out to reach for you, instead your hands find her shoulders and you gently push her down, putting her on her back before climbing to sit on her thighs.

“Hey that was mean.”

“So was telling me that you'd be mine at 3, and then not getting home until nearly 4.”

“I know, but babe I had media.” She tried to defend herself. You knew deep down it wasn’t her fault, but she could’ve at least texted.

“Shhh.” You put a finger to her lips. “No excuses, right?” You nod encouragingly down at her, until her own head mirrors the nod. You lean down kissing her hard, starting to slowly grind yourself down onto Jessie’s thighs. “Now,” you pause, “do you think you deserve a show?”

Jessie just looks at you, her eyes jumping around your face, unsure of how to answer, so she doesn’t. She continues to stare, her mouth opening every few seconds as if she’s going to answer before she closes it again.

“I don’t think you do. Had you been on time, I would’ve given you a show, I would’ve let you put your hands all over me, I would’ve let you pull these off of me, or maybe I would’ve let you decide if you wanted to fuck me while I was still wearing them. But you were late, and I had to start by myself.”

Jessie sighs, “Let me make it up to you, let me show you I’m sorry.” Her hands come to rest on your thighs, letting them creep up toward your core.

“No, keep your hands to yourself.” You say with a glare before moving off her thighs. You bring your hands lower, one cupping the obvious tent in her shorts. Giving it a quick squeeze, Jessie bucks her hips slightly.

You slowly draw down her shorts, making sure to tease her, taking your time getting the waistband past her erection, letting the fabric drag slowly over her cock. You then repeat the same tantalizing process with her tight compression boxers, finally letting her length spring free. You admire it for a second, giving it your full attention knowing it made Jessie feel shy but you wanted to truly appreciate her, all of her. “Is that all for me? Did I get you this hard?” You cock an eyebrow, looking up at her from where you sat between her legs.

Jessie nods in your direction, her eyes looking between her own arousal and your face.

“Tell me baby.” You encourage her.

“You make me so hard.”

“Good girl.” You praise her, causing her breath to hitch slightly at the words and her erection to bounce as her muscles clench In reaction to your words.

“You know I was thinking about this,” Your hand wraps around the base of her cock, “when I was touching myself. I was thinking about how well you fuck me, how wet I get for you, thinking about you, all of you, your fingers and your tongue and especially your cock.”

Jessie takes a deep breath, blinking quickly a few times, you can tell she’s trying to compose herself the way her hands fist the bedsheets before relaxing.

“You must’ve had some dirty thoughts of your own, the way you walked in the door already hard. What were you thinking about baby?”

“You.” Jessie tries to thrust her hips into your hand slightly, causing you to take your hand away from her.

“Tell me more.”

“I was thinking about that dirty little photo you sent me. I was thinking about fucking you.” You nod encouragingly as she speaks, bringing your hand back to her, running your fingers down her length. Her words stops and you once again take away your hand.

“More.” You say looking up at her.

She nods, looking to the ceiling for a moment. “I was thinking about, how sexy you are, how good you feel around me,” Jessie’s words fill the air, you bring your mouth to the tip of her cock, your tongue grazing over the head, cleaning the precum that was leaking from the tip. When Jessie’s voice stops you pull your head back and look up to see her eyes blown wide and mouth slightly ajar.

“You stop talking, I stop too.”

“Your pussy, I was thinking about your pussy, how tight you feel, how you’re made for me.” As she speaks you take the head of her length into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl around it, pleased with yourself when she stumbles over her words. “I was thinking about how I want to be deep inside of you, making you scream my name.”

Rewarding her you take her length into your mouth until the tip hits the back of your throat, before pulling off and watching in amusement as she thrusts into the air, wanting your mouth back. “I don’t think you deserve to be in my mouth, and you certainly don’t deserve to be in my pussy.” Jessie just lets out another sigh as she looks up at you with a silent beg.

Your hand strokes Jessie’s length once, spreading your saliva along it before your hand comes to hold it for a moment. Slowly you push her cock down, the tip coming to rest on her stomach just below her bellybutton. You hold it flat against her stomach and begin to adjust yourself. You move upward, off her thighs to hover over her hips, your core just inches away from where you knew she wanted it.

Smirking down at her you pull your panties to the side and lower yourself onto her. You raised an eyebrow as you gave a tentative grind yourself along Jessie’s length, watching her for any signs of discomfort. The stuttered breath from Jessie gave you all the information you needed to know, she was enjoying this as well.

You repeat your motion, letting the slick of your arousal coat the underside of her cock. Looking up from where the head of her cock was starting to leak onto her stomach you find Jessie’s face mesmerized as she watched you grind on her. “Guess you’re getting a show after all.” You say smugly, her eyes pulling away and coming up to meet yours. “Like what you see?”

A smile creeps onto Jessie’s face as she nods. “Yeah, you look fucking gorgeous.”

“Would this make it better?” You say as you reach a hand behind your back, removing the clasp on your bra and letting the material slide down your shoulders slightly. You remove the bra, tossing it to the side and you swear you can feel Jessie’s cock twitch against you. Her hands start to move upward before you move your own hands to cover your chest. “It’s just a show, no touching, if you had been on time you could’ve touched me in any way you wanted.” Standing up quickly, despite Jessie’s whine as the loss of contact, you strip off the panties you had already soaked, dropping them on the floor before climbing back onto the bed and settling yourself on Jessie’s cock.

Feeling smug at the way Jessie lets out a small huff of frustration, you rock back and forth again, this time making sure to grind your clit against her head, knowing that’s where she was most sensitive. “Fuck.” Jessie’s hands grip your thighs, her nails digging in slightly. You feel her arms tense as they try to encourage your grinding motion.

Fed up with her, you grab her wrists, pulling them from your thighs, noticing the way your skin flashes white before returning pink from how hard she had been gripping you. You lace your fingers with hers before leaning forward, pinning her arms above her head. “What did I say? No touching. You’re not in charge anymore, you lost that privilege when you were late.” You watch as Jessie’s eyes widen in what appears to be shock, you weren’t normally one to be dominant in the bedroom, that was usually her role. You felt uneasy for a moment watching her reaction, worried you’d made her uncomfortable, but she just looked up at you before swallowing hard and nodding.

“Please.” She let out what would be an otherwise embarrassing whine, but you knew she didn’t care. You could feel the way her body tensed under yours, her hands clenching into fists. You just smile and shake your head down at her.

She could flip the two of you easily, you both knew it. She was stronger, even in her compromised position she had leg, core, and arm strength that yours couldn’t match. While she could overpower you, Jessie also knew this was a punishment, she had gotten held up at work and failed to tell you, so while she could flip you, easily have her way with you, she remained flat on the bed, looking up helplessly at you.

“Babe, please, I’m so sorry.”

“Hmmm.” You pretend to ponder the choices, knowing fully that you weren’t going to let her get her way just yet. “No, I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet.”

“I have, babe I’ll never do it again.” You can feel her starting to squirm more beneath you. “Let me show you how sorry I am, let me make you feel good.”

“I’m feeling plenty good. I think it’s you who’s a little worked up.” You lean down putting your mouth to her ear. “I think you just want to be in my tight pussy.” You whisper, punctuating your sentence by grazing your teeth along her ear.

“I- “fuck, I do, I want to be inside you, but I want to make you feel good.”

“Like I said, I’m feeling plenty good.” You emphasize your words with a roll of your hips, watching as Jessie’s mouth falls open and she briefly closes her eyes. Taking her silence as acceptance of her punishment, you continue grinding yourself along her, enjoying the way her face contorts trying to hide how good you were making her feel.

You start to notice how Jessie’s breathing picks up, going from long, deep breaths trying to compose herself, to quicker, less even breathing. It doesn’t take long before Jessie speaks up again. “Fuck, babe, I’m gonna cum soon if you don’t stop.”

“Yeah?” You let your hips stall for a moment and watch as Jessie instantly relaxes below you, taking in a slow deep breath.

“Yeah, you’ve got me so close.”

“Good.” You smirk down at her as you begin moving your hips, you watch as frustration flushes through Jessie’s face before being replaced with pleasure as you grind yourself onto the head of her cock. Her eyes begin to roll back before she quickly shuts her eyes, letting out a strained grunt.

“Fuck.” She mutters, head thrown back slightly. “Fuck, babe.” She sends you a glare, an expression of annoyance across her face. ”Seriously. I’m going to cum.”

“Then do it.” You shrug your shoulders.

“No.” Jessie shakes her head against the pillow, her eyes pinched shut, “Not yet, I want to cum inside you.” You almost laugh at her expression. You hardly ever got to see Jessie like this, putty in your hands,

“If you wanted to cum inside me maybe you would’ve come home on time.” You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself as you watched your usually in control, level headed, calm girlfriend fall apart beneath you. “Then you could’ve been so deep inside me, any position you would’ve wanted, let you manhandle me, use me, I would’ve let you cum in me. But you were late.”

She shuts her mouth, lips tight, she squints at you, not saying a word.

“Oh, are you upset baby?” You tease her. Putting both of her wrists in one hand you grab her chin with the other, making her look at you. She glares up at you, still not speaking. “Okay well how about I give you options? Would you like that?”

Jessie keeps her glare for a moment before giving in and nodding.

“Okay, well you can either cum now just like this,” you gesture downward to where her cock still remained nestled between your lips. “Or, you don’t cum at all, I’ll climb off, leave you here, and use one of our toys to finish the job. What would you prefer?” You notice the degrading tone you’re using toward her, but you also don’t care.

She doesn’t give you an answer right away, to tease her you start to shift your weight as if you’re going to stand up. “Like this.” She finally mutters.

“Good choice.” You sit back down with a grin, returning to your previous motion, making sure to focus your attention on the head of her cock. It’s only a few minutes later that Jessie starts to quietly whine.

You know it’s coming, you can tell by her facial expressions, the way she scrunches her nose and her eyebrows pinch together. Her chest begins to heave. You finally release her hands, realizing just how hard she was straining against you, they immediately grab your hips as you allow her to aid your grinding motion as she ever so slightly thrusts her hips. The way her eyes get wide as if giving you one last plea to be inside of you before slamming shut, her lips falling apart as a deep groan from her fills the air.

Pausing your own thrusts you watch as her hips thrust roughly twice before stalling, the head of her cock nestled between your lips. You can feel her tense up below you. A whisper of profanities comes from her mouth. Her hands tighten on your thighs, her nails indenting your skin, her thighs and core clenched and she holds her breath as she begins to cum, traces being shot over her own chest. A whine full of pleasure mixed with frustration escapes her body as you feel her length twitch beneath you.

“Now that you got yours, I want mine.” You say starting to grind yourself on her again. You knew you had to be quick, using her length while it was still hard you moved yourself faster, grinding yourself harder. Jessie gasps as you begin to pleasure yourself once again, using her overly stimulated cock.

“Oh fuck, this is so good Jess.” Feeling yourself get closer to the edge you no longer care that she’s touching you, not enough self control to slow your impending orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck,” Jessie groans beneath you, her eyes are still closed as she tries to keep her composure long enough to help you get your orgasm. she bites her lip hard stuck between the immense pleasure and overstimulation she was experiencing. “Too much.” She whines as you speed up your hips, your hands flat on her chest using her for leverage.

“You can take it. I’m almost there Jess.” You knew if she needed you to stop she’d tell you, you also knew she’d do anything to get you your pleasure. Her hands kneaded at your thighs as she tried to hold herself together long enough to help you. She nodded, adding in a thrust with her hips, aiding in the stimulation on your clit.

“Right there, fuck.” You can feel your thighs beginning to tremble on either side of Jessie’s waist as your orgasm creeps closer. Your hands leave her chest and move to your own, letting your fingertips graze over your sensitive nipples. You did it knowing it would give you the tiny bit of sensation you needed to get over the edge but also because you knew it drove Jessie crazy.

As you expected, her mouth falls open in awe watching you. You catch her eyes for one moment before your own close as you throw your head back, your orgasm crashing down. The feeling of release radiates from your core across the rest of your body causing you to tense, stalling your hips momentarily. You jerk your hips against Jessie a few times, working yourself through your orgasm, before collapsing forward. A small sigh leaves your lips as your head comes to rest in the crook of her neck as you wind down. Your breathing is quick and shallow against her skin.

You allow yourself only a minute to recover before pushing yourself up from where you lay on her chest. “I love you, don’t be late next time.” You smirked as you rolled over, still spent from your own orgasm you lay for just a second before quickly getting up. “I’m going to shower.” You look back for a second admiring your girlfriend, her chest covered in her cum, her now softening cock still resting up on her stomach, covered in your own arousal, she looked beautifully spent.

Jessie laid on the bed still, nearly frozen in place, unable to comprehend the past hour. A feeling of overstimulation was still lingering between her thighs but also so was a strong desire to go again. She couldn’t believe the way you took control, the way you held your own against her. She was so used to you crumbling under her touch, falling into submission quickly, but you hadn’t this time. You took control, you had pushed her down on the bed, you had your way with her, you made her submissive. What was confusing Jessie’s mind the most was how much she had liked it.

Laying back, thinking of how you had pinned her hands above her head, how you had her begging for you, how hot you looked using her body to get yourself off. She was in awe, speechless, dumbfounded and overall she was aroused. She looked down, seeing the remnants of her previous orgasm across her stomach and chest, as well as her cock that was beginning to rise again. She needed you.

You waited in the bathroom for a moment, shower running, waiting for your girlfriend to join you. When she didn’t and you didn’t hear her move, you wandered back into the bedroom, still seeing Jessie laid on her back. “Are you joining me, or should I shower by myself, oh!” You stop your question noticing the hard on Jessie was displaying.

Her hands immediately move downward to conceal herself as a smirk grows on your face. “Ready to go again already?”

You watch as the expression on Jessie’s face turns to one you know all too well. Gone was the shy, sweet, submissive side of your girlfriend, her face now firm stared back at you. She was about to get her revenge.

She moved off the bed and toward you, her hand grabbing your chin and pulling it to look at her. “Get in the shower. Seems like someone needs a reminder of who’s in charge around here, and I think we’ll start with you cleaning me up with that smart little tongue of yours.”