#Neville longbottom smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yasministration · 1 month ago

Note

neville x fem!reader who wants neville so bad but he’s so oblivious to her advances. each of them become increasingly more obvious to her intentions but the only person who doesn’t realize this is neville, and it’s driving her absolutely insane.

obvious enough - neville longbottom

summary: it seems that the only person in the entire castle who doesn't know about your feelings for neville is neville himself. your signals become increasingly more obvious, but even asking him out to hogsmeade doesn't seem to be obvious enough for him. wc: 1.9k+

You’d been convinced that after the stunt you pulled last night, Neville would finally know about your relentless crush on him. But you couldn’t be more wrong.

As per usual, Neville sat facing you in the Great Hall as he happily ate his breakfast away. Meanwhile, you felt sick. How could he not have gotten it? Understood the hints you’d thrown at him day by day, each getting increasingly obvious. God, even Harry and Ron took notice of your intentions.

You had literally spelled it out for Neville, and still, he had missed it.

It started with little hints, playing a game of ‘will Neville notice’ with Hermione. She had told you about how obvious your crush was, and after weeks of hearing you talk about the shy boy, had convinced you to do something about it. So you started with friendly flirting, your touch lingering on Neville’s for longer than necessary when passing things to each other and giving him looks just beyond innocent.

When he didn’t respond to your flirting, you upped the stakes. By a lot. You spoke about your exes to Neville more openly, then directly compared him to them. “He wasn’t very respectful of my privacy, and didn’t really give me any compliments. But I’m sure you’d never do anything like that, right Neville? You’d compliment me loads if we were dating, right?”

And when he replied with “Of course I would”, you only went further. “I know you would. You’d be a much better boyfriend than any of those boys.”

On the rare occasion that Hermione or Lavender were around to witness the flirting, they giggled behind closed fists, shooting you encouraging looks as you told Neville that he was handsome, brushing any long strands of his hair back as the orange glow of the fire reflected on his face. But still, the boy was convinced that you were just being friendly.

It all built up continuously — until yesterday. You weren’t sure you could be any more obvious than you had been last night.

It was quiet in the common room, easy conversation being exchanged between the friend group. Seamus and Ron played a competitive game of wizard’s chess, occasionally contributing the conversation you had with Lavender, Hermione and Harry. Neville was sat next to you, shoulder brushing against yours as you giggled at Lavender’s comments about Harry’s miserable attempts at a love life.

“God, Harry, you might be more clueless than Neville.” Hermione added, causing Ron and Seamus’s gaze to flicker over to the five of you. Harry scoffed. “No chance. Right y/n?”

“That would be correct.” You huffed, turning your head to glance at the boy next to you. Neville met your eyes, smiling softly. Your chest deflated as you sunk back into the pillows, swallowing thickly. Lavender shot you an empathetic look, but Harry laughed loudly, causing Neville’s eyebrows to furrow.

"I literally couldn’t be more obvious.” You complained with an exasperated roll of your eyes. "Look." You made a show of turning your entire body to face Neville, clearing your throat softly. The friend group went silent, suspense building between you. “Neville, do you want to go Hogsmeade together?”

Hermione gasped loudly, grasping Lavender’s hands tightly.

Neville nodded, smiling sweetly at you. “Yeah sure. Hey Harry, didn’t you say you needed something from the Quidditch store? Do you want to come with us?” You rolled your eyes again, falling back onto the couch as you ran your hands over your face, groaning. “I give up.” You announced, and Ron and Seamus broke into loud fits of laughter that had Neville’s face going red.

“What? What did I miss?”

Dean, who had just walked into the common room, slumped down in the empty armchair. He took one glance around, and grinned widely. “Somehow, Neville, I think you missed more than I did.”

You thought maybe Neville would realise the true nature of your words overnight. That he’d wake up with some sort of revelation. Or maybe that his dorm mates would have knocked some sense into him, yelling at him that you'd literally asked him out in front of five witnesses. But no. Neville happily chewed on his toast, laughing at the argument between Harry and Dean – something about Quidditch teams.

Hermione bumped her side with yours, asking quietly “You okay?” You nodded, looking at her with a pitiful smile. “I don’t know how he’s missing it, Hermione.” Your best friend stood up, shrugging and offering you a hand. You followed her up, holding her hand as you walked out of the great hall. Neville’s eyes flitted up, gaze following your movements.

Ron elbowed Seamus’s side, nodding his head towards Neville. Seamus instantly broke away from his conversation with his girlfriend, both of them turning to look at Neville. The small motion caught Harry and Dean’s attention. They both instantly paused their conversation to watch Neville, who glanced back, growing red at the prospect of being caught staring at you.

“Oh, Neville.” Lavender sighed, resting her cheek on Seamus’s shoulder as she slowly shook her head.

“What did I do!?”

You and Hermione trekked up to the third floor, detouring to the bathroom before transfigurations class. Your conversation died down as you swung the bathroom door open, spotting Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass talking in hushed voices. Daphne was lounging on the worn down couch across from the sinks, looking up at Pansy, who was speaking animatedly.

At the sight of you and Hermione, Pansy halted her speech, clearing her throat. “I’m sure he’ll come to his senses, Pans.” Daphne said with a low volume. Pansy shrugged, watching as you ruffled through your bag, extracting a tube of lip gloss. You applied a shiny layer of the product slowly, something the girls watched through the mirror’s reflection.

“Boy drama?” You asked with a friendly tone, and the two slytherins nodded. You mimicked the movement, smiling softly at them as you turning around, retuning the gloss to the small pocket in your bag. You sighed tiredly.

“You too?” Daphne questioned, and you rolled your eyes, nodding. “Well.” Hermione commented, and your head snapped up to glare at her. “What do you mean ‘well’?”

“I mean, is it really drama if nothing has happened?”

“Hermione, the problem is that nothing has happened because the boy is daft! I literally asked him out, and he invited Harry!” Pansy laughed loudly, slapping a hand over her mouth and apologising quietly. “I’m sorry.” She muttered, but she was still smiling.

“Wait, is this the Longbottom boy?” Daphne asked, standing up and walking over to the door. You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest as she pushed the door open. She leaned her back on it, eyebrows furrowing, and you only then became aware of the crowd building in the hallway. You should get going before being late to class.

Swinging your bag over your chest, you made your way over to the girl, walking with Pansy and Hermione. “Wait,” Started Pansy, holding a hand up as Daphne swung the door open all the way. She walked into the hallway, stopping in her tracks to turn towards you and say “I thought you and Longbottom were dating.”

“I’ve been trying to make that happen!” You complained, gesturing with your hands as you walked out of a couple of students' path, ensuring you wouldn't get bumped into. “But he won’t get the hint!”

You stepped past a group of rushing first years, freezing on the spot and wrapping a hand around Hermione’s wrist as Daphne moved out from in front of you and Pansy. Hermione gasped, eyes going wide as she took in the sight in front of her. Neville was leaning on the railing next to Ron, his face red. You moved your gaze to the ginger, and he grimaced.

Fuck.

“Hermione, we have to go.” You whispered in a panicked voice, and Hermione nodded, dragging you away from the two boys just as Neville pushed himself off the railing. “Hey, hold on!” Hermione continued pushing through the crowds of students until she led you through the doorway of the transfiguration classroom. You sighed in relief at the sight of Professor McGonagall in the otherwise empty classroom.

With her here, there was no way Neville would attempt to make contact. “Sit next to me, please sit next to me.” You begged Hermione, who immediately put her things on the seat next to yours. Neville’s seat. Professor McGonagall looked up at the two of you, who innocently smiled at her.

“Are you ladies alright?” She asked, glancing between you and Hermione with a curious expression. You nodded quickly, noticing the way she squinted her eyes at you. Professor McGonagall hummed, deciding not to comment on Hermione’s change of seat.

You silently took out your things from your bag, freezing as two pairs of rushed footsteps entered the room. The footsteps came to an abrupt stop, and you carefully observed Professor McGonagall’s face. She glanced at you once, before turning her gaze to the two students in the back of her classroom.

“Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Weasley. I assume you’ll be able to behave if you sit next to each other.”

“Sorry, Professor, do you mind if I quickly speak to y/n outside?” Your eyes went wide at Neville’s words, and you worriedly glanced towards Hermione out of the corner of your eye, who shrugged at you aimlessly. You turned your eyes towards Professor McGonagall, attempting to subtly shake your head ‘no’.

She smiled at the panicked look on your face, nodding slowly “Be sure to come back before class begins. Or you’ll get a detention.”

You laughed nervously, announcing “What’s the point of risking detention, right?” But Neville called your name once more, and the pleading tone of his voice had you slipping out of your seat, wordlessly following him out of the classroom. Ron shot you a very obvious thumbs up as you walked past him. Neville guided you to stand just outside the classroom.

“I never realised you were making a move on me.” You laughed quietly, glancing up at Neville, who looked dreadfully guilty. “I know, Neville. That’s not- I’d never be mad at you for that. I just-”

“I like you. A lot.”

Your eyes went wide, and you felt your cheeks heat up. You were painfully aware of your classmates glancing your way as they made their way into the classroom. But that didn’t matter when Neville was having this conversation with you. “You do?”

“Of course I do. You don’t know how it made me feel when you’d say that I’d be a better boyfriend than all those other boys.”

“And that wasn’t obvious enough to you, Nev!?” Neville chuckled at your provoked tone, glancing down at his dirty shoes. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, looking up at you with rosy cheeks. “If the offer to go to Hogsmeade is still up, I’d love for us to go. Without Harry.” You froze for a moment, eyes wide before yoy giggled, cheeks aching as you nodded. You leaned forward, softly pressing your lips against Neville’s flushed cheek. His breath hitched in his throat, something you very faintly heard.

“Come on.” You mumbled, walking past him to enter the classroom once more. You raced over to your seat at the realisation that the classroom was nearly entirely full, slipping in next to Hermione just as the bell rang loudly. You didn’t turn around to see if Neville had taken his seat in time, but you heard Professor McGonagall announce “Mr. Potter, Mr. Finnigan, I’ll be waiting for you both in detention this afternoon.”

And then, a few seconds later, alongside rushed footsteps “Detention for you too, Mr. Thomas.”

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megwritesriddles · 7 months ago

Text

Sweetest Nectar ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Being at Hogwarts at university-level had it's perks, such as unsupervised days in the greenhouse with Neville. Reader finds herself in an unfortunate position thanks to a flower in the greenhouse and Neville has to figure out how to help while being a gentleman and preserving their friendship.

Tags: Sex pollen, Mildly dubious consent, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected sex, Begging, Friends to lovers, Minor yearning, HogwartsUniversity!AU, Post-war/Eighth year, Virgin!Neville (he just is, I don't make the rules), Too much backstory, Sentient Hogwarts, Silly fluffy ending.

Word count: 11.1k

all fandom masterlist | hp masterlist | read it on ao3

Authors note: Can you see why I've been gone so long??? This had zero business being 11k words but I'm a chronic overexplainer so here we are!! Skip the first 9 paragraphs if you don't care about any worldbuilding. Continuing my 'Neville gets muscular as he gets older' agenda as per. The last line is so dumb... Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

P.S. this is technically day 23 of my kinktober but it's january so lets not talk about that

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Hogwarts worked in mysterious ways, with its own indecipherable motives. This much had always been true but was especially recognised lately. Once rebuild efforts had concluded after the war, Professor McGonagall, like every headmaster before her, bar Severus Snape, had sent out invitations to recent graduates to join the Higher Education program, a two-year program that would prepare its students to become a professor in any chosen field, subject to meeting entry requirements of the course. Demand for this program was higher than it ever had been, so many recent Hogwarts graduates felt like they had missed so much time at Hogwarts, that they were willing to come back on the program just to make up for lost time. At first, McGonnagal thought of shutting the whole thing down or at least raising entry requirements for joiners; there wasn’t exactly enough room in the designated Higher Education quarters for all the applicants. And though the regular student population had dwindled significantly over the course of the war (best not thought about too hard), it seemed wrong to try and room adults with 15-year-olds just to fit everyone in. The night before she intended to send out the letters of amendment to the required marks, McGonagall felt bizarrely compelled to go on a stroll around the castle, feeling drawn down a route she didn't often find herself going. There, she found a brand new door, behind which were brand new living quarters, just big enough for all the applicants. Although she should have been relieved, McGonagall was initially rather frustrated by this. Why now did the blasted old castle decide it could build, when nearly all summer long volunteers had been slaving away to restore the castle? The windows glittered as if to wink at her, she decided that the daft old thing must have liked the attention. McGonagall found herself relieved, she too felt that the recent graduates were not ready for the career world quite yet, having had not only their final year of study lost to the war, but the years before that tarnished by looming threats and incompetent bumblers. Also, there was an urgent need for qualified teachers of magic, so the more the merrier, even if most of them would only use it as a springboard into something else.

You had always been a shoo-in either way, although you never got to sit your NEWTs, the honourary grades you were given were stellar, supported by fantastic results in your OWLs and overall fantastic conduct in class. The blemishes on your record from the Carrow's note-taking were wiped, leaving your record squeaky clean. You received your acceptance letter and list of supplies and felt like you were eleven again. Everyone was required to specialise in a subject, and while you'd had a couple in which you had adequate grades which you might have chosen, you went for Herbology in the end, as it was something you loved. In all honesty, you liked Professor Sprout the best and were eager to train under her.

As soon as you received your letter, you wrote to Neville. There was no doubt in your mind that he would be studying under Professor Sprout alongside you, despite not even knowing if he had applied to the program initially. He quickly confirmed this suspicion when he wrote back to you, saying he had a sneaky feeling about you as well. The two of you had become fast friends in the sixth year, both being in Advanced Herbology. You'd known each other a little here and there before that, but in this class, your friendship truly formed. The class was very small, as the interest in Advanced Herbology was low, most careers only required a decent grade in standard Herbology, so even those with interest had to prioritise other things for the sake of their future, such as Potions or Charms. There were only the two of you and a pair of Slytherin girls who, despite seeming genuinely very passionate about the subject, refused to converse with the two of you and whispered amongst themselves all the time. This was fine with both of you, as you had each other, taking time to study together, walking to and from class, and working efficiently during any pair work. The two of you had been ripped apart during the war, you had to steer clear of Hogwarts for your safety, and Neville, being intensely monitored by the Carrows at the time, refused to write to you and risk revealing your location to them, so you had been out of contact for quite a while. You wrote to him again on his birthday and had been corresponding a little since, but things felt slightly stunted. You hadn't seen each other in so long and Neville was never the best when it came to socialising.

Arriving at Hogwarts once again had been intensely bittersweet. So many good and bad memories to try and process all at once, it felt overwhelming. You'd had to step outside during the sorting but found yourself far from alone out there. So many people were broken. You apprehensively made your way over to Hermione and said hello. She pulled you into a tight hug, as you hadn't seen her for a long time either. You listened as she explained about Harry and Ron, that they didn't want to go into teaching, and though she'd explained over and over that most people that do the program don't end up teaching, they'd still refused to come. Trying to make the most of it, she tells you it'll be nice to spend time with other friends for once and you nod along. She is somehow specialising in three subjects, she'd wanted to do more of course, but it hadn't been allowed. Trust Hermione to work herself to the bone happily. You'd made it to your room later that night, a private room with an en-suite, which felt awfully fancy for Hogwarts, and settled in. Being back was an odd feeling, you could see the cracks in the stone everywhere you looked, there was pain everywhere, yet so much good to try and find.

To your complete relief, when you started your first day in the Greenhouses, things fell back into place with Neville instantly. At first, you'd greeted him with a hug, which had been awkward as he hadn't been expecting it, but very pleasant once he figured out what was going on. Soon after this though, as Professor Sprout set you her first task (to prepare some plants for her third years), things were back to as they were, perfect. You worked together well, talking and laughing easily, and though occasionally the chat went sour and the mood fell, this was happening with everyone lately, a byproduct of the war, there was so little to talk about that wasn't tarnished that it was a wonder the two of you were able to laugh as much as you were. Neither of the two girls from advanced Herbology were there, and although this initially saddened you both, you conceded that there could be many reasons for it. There weren’t many Slytherin returners, there never had been, but after the war especially, the turnout was pathetic. Most Slytherins avoided their peers after the war for fear of ostracism, which was fair as people had some pretty bad opinions on them but sad because there were several Slytherins who hadn’t been on the wrong side of history who were still facing hostility.

The course was a lot of independent study of assigned texts and essay-writing, but all day on a Tuesday and half a day on a Thursday, the two of you were in the smaller greenhouse behind the ones for teaching, working on various projects, which also sometimes required your attention out of teaching hours. This greenhouse was set aside initially for research purposes at Sprout’s predecessor's request, but now was being used to train those in the higher education program. Despite this greenhouse being smaller than the two nearer the grounds, it was still fairly large and complex. Upon entering, you came into a little cloakroom, where you would have to don your aprons and gloves before entering, with a sink in the corner for washing up when leaving and entering. The next room was the main growing area, growing various plants that weren’t dangerous but were still perhaps best kept out of the reach of the younger students. There was a long wooden workbench in the middle of the room for potting and taking notes and whatever else you might need to do. Off of the opposite end of this room, there were three doors, one that led to a small room which was always kept humid and at tropical temperatures, one which was always kept cool and dry and one lockable room in which more dangerous plants were kept, such as venomous tentacula or fanged geraniums, only to be accessed with Professor Sprout supervising.

Professor Sprout would only tutor the two of you on Thursday, so with the exception of the first few weeks, the two of you were entirely alone from 9 am to 4 pm on a Tuesday. Although it sounded a little salacious when you told friends, the truth was that most Tuesdays you were both too busy for anything to happen. Not that anything would of course, but certain assumptions were made when people heard you were alone together for hours with what they assumed was an easy subject. Mostly your days were full of tending to the plants, having to frequently refer to your notes for how each should be cared for (how much water? what temperature should the water be? do they require singing to?), observing any plants that were the subjects of your essays and preparing plants so they would be safe for lessons with younger year groups.

It’s a Tuesday like any other. Neville is carefully planting some seeds across the workbench from where you’re delicately pruning a particularly active flitterbloom bush, setting the clippings aside to send to the potions department later. One of Neville’s research subjects is observing what methods of growth acceleration work the best and cause the least damage to the plants they’re applied to. He has been planting, growing and replanting dittany over and over for weeks now, but was still gathering more data as he came across more and more methods to test, and each had to be tested several times over to rule out external factors.

Your research was on the merits and drawbacks of pruning, and which plants took best and worst to the practice. Pruning was useful as it allowed more ingredients to be obtained from individual plants for potioneering purposes, but generally was thought to be harmful to the overall health of the plant. You were attempting to write a definitive list of which of the 25 most common plants used in potions could be pruned and which couldn’t, which to your surprise had hardly been researched before as the belief of its harmfulness had permeated the field since 1870 and most Herbologists had steered clear of it since. Your research seemed to be proving it wasn’t nearly as harmful as thought.

The two of you chat idly as Neville uses a pipette to apply various growth potions to the soil of his newly planted seeds and you carefully measure the regrowth of a stem of the flitterbloom bush that you pruned a few weeks ago, struggling as the stem swayed about.

“I can’t believe Hermione talked Ron and Harry into actually joining the course next term,” Neville hums, extracting exactly 5 millilitres of potion from a bottle with his pipette. You scoff.

“For real this time? They keep saying that yet nothing ever comes of it,” you shake your head, scribbling down your measurement on the parchment beside you.

“Yes, really, two new rooms have appeared in the boys' dorms with their names on them, if Hogwarts knows, it must really be happening,” his tongue sticks out slightly between his teeth as he concentrates on dropping the liquid right in the middle of the little pot. Not wanting to throw his research, you wait until he’s done to reply.

“Perhaps Harry and Ron don’t even know it themselves,” you joke, making Neville chuckle.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the castle decided it for them,” he carefully pushes the cork back into the top of the potion bottle. “The castle is quite odd lately, perhaps it has whatever its equivalent of brain damage is from the war, it’s acting much more blatantly,”

“How so?” you tilt your head in his direction, soothing your finger over the agitated stem that you just had to hold taut for measuring.

“I’m sure you’ve heard all the stories of people getting stuck in rooms with the people they like, doors literally disappearing until they confess or otherwise!” Neville laughs, carefully moving his pots back to their designated spot on the windowsill. With his back turned, you can’t help but glance at the door despite yourself, wondering if it’s still there. It is. You quickly avert your eyes from the door as he turns back toward you. “It’s why there’s suddenly all these couples popping up, sure the castle has always been a little cheeky, but never so obvious before, it all started with the higher education wing appearing overnight and it’s seemingly been madness since,” he shakes his head, picking up another batch of pots containing little sprouts at various heights that he has to measure.

“It’s sweet how many people have liked each other and not even known… has it always been people who like each other stuck together?” you ask, stroking your quill, feeling the soft tufts beneath your fingers.

“As far as I’ve heard, each time it’s happened it’s ended well,” Neville shrugs, rifling through his bag for his measuring tape. You glance at the door again, seeing it still there. Unrequited, you figure, that door will stay right where it is.

“I wonder where the brain of the castle is if it even has such a thing… it is sentient in some ways, so there must be an equivalent right?” you ponder as he loudly removes his books from his bag and thuds them onto the workbench.

“The room of requirement? For some reason that comes to mind… a fire in your brain can’t be good,” he chuckles, his voice slightly strained as he peers under the table for the offending measuring tape.

“You can borrow mine,” you suggest softly as he comes up with nothing.

“No it’s fine, you need it,” he waves his hand dismissively, standing up from his stool. “I’ll fetch mine from my room, I’m fairly certain I know exactly where it is on my desk, can’t believe I forgot it again,” he grumbles the last part to himself. “Be back in 15, watch my plants,” he smiles, although you can tell from his sheepish look that he’s embarrassed to have forgotten something yet again. Luckily, you could head back to fetch things at any time at your level, no longer having to ask to go to the toilet or anything like that. There was no one here to ask. You smile back, watching as he enters the cloakroom. A few moments later, you see his heavily blurred figure heading up the hill through the heavily rippled glass of the greenhouse windows. In the newfound quiet, you return to your work, hearing only the spray of simulated rain in the tropical growing room.

Finally finished with the flitterbloom, you stand to retrieve your next plant, a valerian bush, for pruning. As you move to stand and step forward, you feel an odd pressure at your ankle. Stepping forward anyway, you realise too late that your foot is hooked on a support between the legs of your stool, sending both you and the stool off balance and toppling over toward the room-length counter that holds all the various plants. Reflexively, your body twists and your arms come up to shield your head as you thud loudly into the solid wood surface, causing a choir of wobbling pots, luckily with no ensuing crash of broken terracotta, you had to count your blessings somewhere. A dull pain throbs through your body, starting from the side that crashed against the counter. Thud! A yelp rips from you as the stool, still twined with your leg, falls onto your thigh. Luckily, it is only light and will leave a small bruise at most, your side colliding with the counter on the other hand…. You shut your eyes tight, feeling utterly embarrassed about what just happened despite being alone. You weren’t normally this clumsy and you were sure you looked a mess, an undignified heap on the floor, too shocked to stand up or even open your eyes yet. In the permeating silence, you sit on the cold stone floor and try not to cry, from the shock more than the pain.

A violent sneeze overtakes your body, the action of it hurting your side. You sniff and cough, dust seemingly surrounding you. You must have jostled some old dusty plants that hadn’t been touched in a while when you collided with the surface. Surrendering to the coughs and sniffs that wracked through your pained body, you wait it out until the dust subsides, grabbing your bruised side as you double over with violent sneezes and sputters. Finally, a deep breath of clean air, you sag against the counter and try to gather yourself now you can breathe properly once more.

“It was exactly where I thought it was…” The door from the cloakroom creaks open in the silence as Neville enters, clutching his measuring tape. “I can be so scatterbrained,” he huffs, his eyes sweeping the room at the height he expects you to be. In embarrassment your eyes squeeze tighter, not wanting him to see the mess you’d gotten yourself into. Upon not seeing you, he glances around for any evidence you might be in one of the back rooms, though not thinking of a reason you would be.

“Down here,” you squeak, your voice hoarse from coughing. The words itch your throat and you splutter slightly once more as he rounds the workbench and spots you on the ground. You give a sheepish smile, finally having opened your eyes. It’s painfully obvious from your stool-adorned leg what happened, you just hope he doesn’t think any less of you. He shouldn’t, he has a reputation for being clumsy himself, but you can’t help but worry. “I fell,” you rasp pathetically.

“Are you alright?” he surges toward you and kneels, immediately examining your head for any bumps, rubbing over your scalp gently. The action makes your cheeks heat up, but you try to ignore it.

“I’m okay, I landed on my side,” you reply as he carefully removes the stool from around your leg and stands it back up beside the workbench. His arms wrap around you and he carefully lifts you to stand, you yelp as the movement stretches your side and he shushes you gently.

“It’s alright, there we go… just—,” he holds you steady until you’re stable on your feet. When he lets go of you, it feels oddly painful deep in your stomach, but you brush that off.

“Thank you,” you whisper shyly.

“Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?” he asks, bringing his hand up to feel your skull once more, worrying over whether you might have been badly injured. You lean slightly into his hand without meaning to.

“No I promise, it was just my side and my thigh,” you insist, inwardly wishing he’d brush his hand against those spots to check them. For a moment his hand moves like he might, but he stops himself.

“If you’re sure,” he inspects you once more, hovering behind you as you sit back down on the stool, trying to brush past this whole incident. “Can I grab your plant for you?” he offers. “Which were you going for?” you want to complain, but his eyes are wide and earnest and you know he wants to help.

“The valerian… and could you pop the flitterbloom back for me?” you request, hesitantly testing the tender skin where the stool collided with your thigh, wincing at the throb of pain that followed your touch. Neville dutifully returns the flitterbloom to the counter, then places the valerian bush before you. Behind you, you hear him gently pushing some of the pots that had moved when you smashed into the counter back into place. You flush and keep your head down, pretending to inspect the valerian bush but not being able to focus. Your brain feels a little fogged up, you assume from the shock of the fall. Not wanting to alarm Neville in any way, you grab your tape measure and pretend to measure the leaf regrowth. He quietly moves around the workbench, bringing his pots over to your side of the bench and sitting down beside you to resume his work, his brows furrowed in concern for you. “Really, I’m okay,” you chuckle, but the weakness of your voice does little to reassure him.

“It’s better if I sit here, just in case something happens,” he says, more firmly than he usually says anything. That side of him was new since the war, this ability to stick up for himself in smaller situations. He’d always known how to stick up for the greater good, but little things like this, he would allow himself to be walked all over, too scared of losing a friend. Now that he has more confidence, he’s not so afraid to dispute his nearest and dearest, knowing you’re unlikely to end your friendship with him over this. And if you did, it would be weird and not his fault anyway. The tone of voice is also on the newer side and it stirs something in your belly.

You sit side by side working on your respective projects. Well, Neville is working, you’re more just going through the motions while your mind hovers elsewhere, not allowing you to focus on what you’re meant to be doing. Maybe you were concussed… but you hadn’t hit your head during the fall, so what was wrong? You take a few deep breaths, trying to slow your heart which still seems to be beating slightly fast. Slowly but surely, your body starts to feel a little warm. You glance to make sure the door to the tropical room hasn't opened as your cardigan starts to feel a little stuffy. No matter where you look in the room, you can’t find any source of excess heat. A puff of breath breaches your lips, you’re growing uncomfortable now, the heat only seems to rise and rise. With great unnecessary difficulty, you wrestle yourself free of your cardigan, throwing the wretched thing on the ground beside you with a grunt. Neville gives you a confused look, but not yet seeing anything obviously wrong with you, returns to his measurements. There is relief from the warmth that was engulfing you, but only for ten minutes at most, as soon you are sweltering once more. An awful voice at the back of your head tries to convince you to throw off all of your clothes, but you keep it together, merely squirming in your seat, rubbing your thighs together to try and quell the growing ache in your belly that your mind isn’t quite registering yet. In a last-ditch effort, you sip some water from your lukewarm water bottle, the relief it provides is even shorter than before. Your head whips around now, searching fruitlessly once more for the source of this despicable heat, but finds nothing. Neville is unfazed beside you, still wearing his sweater and looking perfectly comfortable. The only thing you can think of is that Neville must be radiating the heat, as nothing else could explain your sudden discomfort. You reach your hand out toward him, trying to gauge if it gets warmer the closer it gets to his side. This finally catches his attention and when he looks up, he’s met with your flushed clammy face and dilated pupils.

“Whoa! Is everything alright?” he sputtered, leaning back slightly as if worried you’re contagious. This upsets you and you let out an unseemly whine.

“I’m hot,” you huff, pushing your hair back from your face to get more cool air on your skin. “Really hot,” Neville’s eyes brush over you for a moment as he considers just how hot you are, before promptly snapping himself out of it.

“You do look a little… feverish,” he agrees, reaching out and touching the back of his hand to your forehead. You lean forward into the touch, moaning softly. Your skin is burning and slightly tacky with sweat, which makes Neville frown deeply. How could you have suddenly developed such a terrible fever? He pulls his hand back, but you immediately whine and claw at his arm to pull his hand back. Too baffled to protest, he lets you pull his hand to your cheek and watches you lean against it happily. He gently runs his thumb over your cheekbone before catching himself. “Are you alright?” he enquires once more, keeping his voice soothing.

“Don’t stop touching me,” you pout, looking up at him through your lashes with a look that is wholly inappropriate for an academic premises. He swallows.

“Wha-what?” he stammers, watching as you nuzzle against his hand.

“It helps the heat… don’t stop,” you whimper, reaching out to try and pull him closer by his sweater, but not being strong or focused enough to do it. This failure pulls another whine from you. Neville’s mind reels completely and he has to look away from you to compose himself, though he keeps your cheek cradled in his palm. What was going on with you? Were you ill? His eyes find the spot where he’d found you on the floor just earlier in his attempts to avoid the sultry unexplainable look you were giving him. “I need you to touch me,” you mewl, making him shiver.

“I’m not sure that’s–” he cuts himself off when his eyes land on the plant on the counter above where you fell. Lamprocapnos libidinosus, also known as the dripping heart, a magical relative of the bleeding heart flower in the muggle world. A common ingredient in lust potions and aphrodisiacs, highly dangerous in the wrong hands due to the potent amorous effects of its spores. Neville vaguely remembers Professor Sprout's warnings that one of the PhD students was being allowed to grow it for research and to steer completely clear of it. A warning he’s sure you would have headed if you hadn’t been tumbling toward it. Even from afar, he notices a couple of burst spore pods. “Oh no…” he mumbles to himself, dropping his hand from your cheek. You immediately protest but he stops you short. “When you fell… you didn’t happen to breathe in any dust, did you?” his voice shakes slightly, this cannot be happening to you. He always thought they shouldn’t have the plant growing in this greenhouse, even if only experienced herbologists were allowed in. Accidents happened as he knew all too well, and now his vague fears had become a biting reality.

“Yeah, why?” your voice is soft and sweet as you paw at him, trying to get him to hug you, or presumably something more. Neville flushes brightly and shoots upright, making a mad dash for his textbooks, still on the workbench from when he’d been searching through his bag. You wail at his absence, feeling the heat that had reduced to a low simmer return to a full boil. “Please…” you sob at him, not even knowing why you want what you want. “Just hold me, comfort me,” The look in your eye has him breaking, and if he remembers what little he’s read about the plant, you must be rather uncomfortable right now. He returns to your side and allows you to cling to his arm, bumping your head into his shoulder like a loving cat, while he frantically searches for the information he needs to help you. After several panicked flick-throughs, he locates the page.

Lamprocapnos libidinosus; also known as the Dripping Heart or the Flower of Lust.

At the top of the page is information entirely useless to this cause, the best season to plant, how much light is needed, etcetera, but finally Neville finds what he’s looking for under the ‘uses’ section. It’s tough to focus on reading when you’re practically trying to get under his sweater with him, pushing the knit material slightly up his side, your fingertips brushing his abdomen and making him jolt. He pushes your hand away but pulls you into a hug to silence your outcries, which you’re more than happy to sink into. He’s hugged you plenty of times so he pretends this is perfectly normal as he wills his brain to digest what's in front of him on the page. It’s hard to keep this pretending up as he can hear you sniffing him and moaning deeply at the smell of his shower gel, mixed with just a hint of sweat, which in this state only fuels your arousal, acting as a pheromone, worsening your need.

He skims the section frantically. Inhalation of the spores will lead to overwhelming feelings of lust even in small doses, however, the dose may affect who this lust is directed toward. Smaller doses will only worsen lust toward people already lusted after by the infected person, while larger doses will cause these feelings of lust to latch onto whoever is around, no matter prior relationships. The infected person will pursue their object of affection at any cost, they will be unable to focus on anything but the lust that has overtaken them. These feelings of lust, if left untreated, can cause extreme discomfort in the infected person, high fevers, intense symptoms of arousal (such as fluid secretions), shivers, brain fog and other symptoms varying by person and dose. The only way to cure the infected person of these symptoms and return them to full faculties is to have them reach climax.

It seems that you have chosen him as the object of your affections. Neville looks down at you as you hug him tight, continuously trying to slip your hand beneath his jumper. Out of selfish curiosity, he heads for the plant to try and determine how large of a dose you got and whether you may have already experienced feelings of lust toward him before the effects of the plant. When he moves away, you practically sob.

“Please don’t!” you wail, diving for him and into his arms once more. For now, you seemed to be mostly content just being held in his arms, and it’s clear you find it painful when separated from him for even a moment, so Neville has to relent. He delicately lifts you, and although having you wrap your legs around his hips hadn’t been a part of his plan, he supposes it does help keep you steady. He blushes brightly as he walks over to inspect the flower. He’s never held anyone like this, so intimately. Your skirt rides up where your legs wrap around him and he has to tear his eyes away before his thoughts become too inappropriate. You like the sight as much as he does. “You’re so strong,” you purr in his ear, your voice much lower than normal. He shivers and you feel it, the knowledge you’re having some effect on him overtakes your lust-addled brain.

“Th-thank you, I’ve been exercising a lot since the war,” he mumbles, counting all the burst pods on the plant. He counts five, but he’s not sure if that’s considered a large dose or not. Probably, but the pods do look rather small.

“Mmm, it’s so hot…” you purr, trying to wriggle against him. Neville’s face turns red and he practically drops you, but holds you steady so you don’t fall once more once your feet touch the ground.

“Don’t say stuff like that!” he yelps.

“It’s true,” you pout. “I need you,” you try to hop up into his arms again but he holds you firmly on the ground, practically shaking. Really, this should’ve been a dream come true for him, he’d had feelings for you practically since the day the two of you met, but he felt disgusted with himself for every wave of excitement that passed over him. You were burning up, your cheeks brightly flushed, a deep ache at the pit of your belly and an ever-growing wetness in your underwear. All you could think about was how it might feel to have Neville soothing the fire inside you with deep strong thrusts, you moan aloud, if you focus enough you can almost feel it. “I bet you’re big, I bet you’d fill me up so well,” you murmur, looking up at him seductively.

“I- Merlin…” Now Neville feels overheated, he tries to push you away a little but you aren’t letting him. The image of filling you up won’t leave his head no matter how much he commands it to. It doesn’t help that you’re now trying your best to reach his jaw to kiss it.

“Please…” you beg once more. “I need it so badly…” his resistance crumbles for a moment and his hands drop from your sides, allowing you to rush forward and attach your lips to his jaw. His eyes slip shut and he whimpers as you hold him close and lavish his neck and jaw with attention. His arms wrap around you, hands gently skimming your back as you continue to pepper him with kisses. “Please,” you whisper against his skin, your hand dropping to the buckle of his belt. The feeling of you tugging at his belt makes his eyes shoot open. He realises in a sudden flood of shame what he’s allowed you to do. You’ll hate him for this once you’re back to normal. He grabs your shoulders harshly and pushes you away. You squeak as he sits you on one of the stools, your eyes filling with tears at the rejection. You’d been so close to what you needed, and now with this newfound distance from him, you were in pain once more, a horrible throb in your stomach.

“Listen to me,” he breathes shakily. “We can’t do this, you’ll regret it as soon as it’s over,”

“No, I–”

“You’re not in your right mind, you don’t know what you actually want,” he asserts again, reminding himself more than anything. He takes a deep breath and thinks. The only way to cure you according to the textbook was for you to reach climax. In colloquial stories about the plant, he’d always heard that orgasm would have to be reached with the help of another person, but the book didn’t stipulate this, maybe this was the answer. You could do it alone. His cheeks were flushed bright red as he opened his mouth once more. “What you need to do is… er… I’m going to take you into the cloakroom, alright?” he swallows, cautiously pulling you up from the stool onto your feet. You would need to sit somewhere to do this presumably and sitting on the stool or the workbench in here could lead to falling and disaster all over again. The best place he could think of was the bench in the cloakroom where people could sit to remove their shoes. You would have the wall to lean against and wouldn’t be sitting on the cold stone floor. Beneath you, he lays out a towel and then helps you to sit down on top of it. The towel was intended to make you more comfortable, but he considers with a blush that it might be necessary for other reasons also. He clears his throat. “Now, you have to… er… get yourself… uhm…” he can’t seem to make himself say the words. With a soft tug at his sleeve, you pull him to kneel between your legs, your faces nearly level given how much height he has on you.

Before he can stop you, you kiss him. His brain stops functioning for a moment, all he can do is wrap his arms around you and kiss back, so intoxicated by the way your lips move against his. He didn’t have much experience with kissing, but there was no doubt this was the best kiss of his life. You moan against his mouth and it sets all his nerve-endings alight, making him push even closer to you in desperation. For you, the kiss is a sweet relief, cool water washing over your overheated body, but even so, you need more. There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs, a horrible feeling of emptiness that you know only Neville could fill. Trying to urge him on, you brush your tongue against his lips, hoping for entry. You’re allowed in for one tantalising moment before he pulls away with a start when your tongues graze against each other. The whine that rips from your throat is downright pathetic, but you don’t have the faculties to care at that moment. You look at him through your lashes, watching as he fights to regain his composure, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Never in his life has he felt as weak as in this moment, rendered so malleable by his desire for you. The two of you are friends. How will you react when you come back to normal and discover he let you kiss him in this state? That he’s allowed his selfishness to get in the way of what’s right? He jumps to his feet, ignoring your cries and protests as much as it pains him to do so.

“Look, the textbook says that the only way to cure you of this is… a uh… a climax,” he blushes and chokes on the words slightly. “I’m going to keep watch outside that nobody comes in, all you have to do is… you know…”

“Get myself off?” you supply in a sultry voice.

“Yes, exactly,” he clears his throat, turning to leave you alone.

“Nev, please… I need your help… I don’t want to do it alone,” you plead, your voice soft and needy.

“No, you can do it alo– oh… wow,” he exhales heavily as his eyes reach you once more. In an effort to persuade him, you’d pulled up the hem of your skirt and spread your legs, revealing your thighs and your soaked panties to him. The cold air makes you shiver but doesn’t actually cool you down in the slightest. It takes a great deal of strength to keep Neville from lunging himself at you. You look positively delicious, the wetness of your panties allowing him an outline of your most intimate areas, the skin of your thighs soft and plump and enticing. If he was even a slightly feebler man, he’d already be on his knees, devouring you through the thin, damp fabric. Just imagining how you might taste has him weak in the knees. “Oh Merlin…” he breathes, feeling his erection, which has been slightly present for the last half-hour or so, straining painfully against the zip of his jeans. The needy seductive look on your face almost breaks him, he takes a step toward you, causing you to light up, before he stops himself and just stares. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, unable to help himself. He watches you squirm in response.

“Please, I need you,” you beg, unbuttoning your shirt as he observes. The garment falls to the ground, leaving you in your plain bra. Neville doesn’t seem to mind how simple the garment is in the slightest, his breath hitching as you reveal yourself.

“I really shouldn’t” he tries again, but he cannot rip his eyes from your body.

“I can’t do it alone, I feel so empty,” you whimper, spreading your legs further. “Please, fill me, I need your cock,” Neville nearly faints at those words, at the pleading way you say them, at how desired you’re making him feel. His legs carry him forward before his brain can catch up and he sits beside you on the bench. His brain finally does catch up just in time to stop you from sitting in his lap.

“Maybe I can help a little, but we can’t… I can’t uh… I can’t ‘fill’ you,” he gives in, despite knowing he probably shouldn’t. He had heard many times that another person was needed to reverse the effects of the Dripping Heart, so it was likely he did have to help, given the fact you hardly seemed satisfied with the idea of getting off alone. He could still be as much of a gentleman about it as possible. He knew the both of you had limited sexual experience, he himself was a virgin and though he wasn’t sure about you, he would guess you were in the same boat or had only had one partner before. With both of you having so little experience, he didn’t want to go all the way, as for you it would likely be regrettable. You plead with him softly, trying to climb into his lap still, despite his strong arms holding you at bay. Each plea weakens his resolve and he knows you know it because you’re babbling now.

“Please, please Nev, I need you inside me, to fuck me, I’ve never needed anything so badly, please, I know you want me too,” he deserved a medal for being able to resist you for this long, most other boys would have given in the second the girl of their dreams said something even remotely flirty, but he was somehow just barely resisting your pleas to have sex with him.

“Sit down,” he implores you, and you quickly obey, batting your lashes at him. “I’m going to help you, okay? But you need to stay still and just… take what I give you, don’t ask for more, okay?” These words seem to excite you, you squirm and nod, eagerly allowing him to spread your legs. His shaking hand rests on your bare thigh for a moment as he takes a few composing breaths. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do, it was something he had dreamed of incessantly, but now it felt like it could ruin his life if he wasn’t careful. You tug softly at his arm, trying to get his hand where you want it, bucking against the air.

“Please…” you sob, clenching around nothing as you look at his large hand against your thigh. He shushes you gently.

“I’m about to, just give me a second,” he stammers, trying to sort through his brain for any information he has on how to do this. He averts his eyes, figuring you wouldn’t have wanted him to see you so intimately, even if the damp fabric of your panties had already given him a pretty good look. Slowly, he places his hand on the apex of your thigh, shivering at the damp warmth he can feel radiating from your core. You mewl. Despite the pain in his neck from the position, he keeps his eyes locked on the wall behind you, pointedly ignoring how arousing the sounds you made were. Gathering his courage, he carefully slips the tips of his fingers past the fabric of your underwear and groans aloud at how wet you are. Your nectar gathers on his fingers and for a moment he just gently swipes them up and down to gather as much as possible, hearing your desperate moans as you lean your head on his shoulder. He never knew a woman could be this wet, and sure perhaps the flower was exacerbating it, but the thought still had him unendingly aroused. The angle wasn’t quite right, so he removed his hand, whining in unison with you at the separation. Your essence dripping down his fingers was like a siren song, trying to lure him to lick his fingers clean and finally get a taste of you. How could he ever explain that to you later? To his infinite regret, he doesn’t bring them to his mouth, sliding his hand into your panties once more, now from the top. This angle works a lot better, your hips immediately buck as his fingers slide over your clit.

“There, please, right there,” you beg, and he’s glad for the advice. A little unsure but determined (no point backing out now, at least he might be able to cure you), he relocates the spot that makes you shiver and whine. Your reaction tells you exactly when he’s found the little bundle of nerves once more and he takes a deep breath, before gently beginning to circle his fingers around it. It’s something he remembers hearing in the common room, and it seems it was good advice as soon you’re panting in his ear like a dog in heat, mewling his name softly. He can’t believe the noises you’re making, the sinful way you’re saying his name, it’s like perfect torture, it takes a lot out of him not to look. “Yes, fuck… Nev…” you whine, feeling the syrupy pleasure coursing through your body. “Yes, yes! More!”

“More?” he croaks, unsure what you mean by that. As a guess, he tries circling faster, and though you definitely seem to like it, your hips canting up into his touch, he can feel you shaking your head against his shoulder.

“Need you inside,” you cry, making his cock twitch in his jeans.

“We- we can’t do- that,” he stutters, although he’s never wanted to more in his life. He wholeheartedly agrees with your pained sob in response, but he knows it’s for the best. “How about… er… my fingers? Inside?” he gulps, flustered that he’s even in a situation where he can ask such a thing.

“O-okay,” you whimper. Neville fumbles around for a moment, trying to figure out where to put his fingers. It would be much easier if he could see what he was doing, but he’s already decided he shouldn’t. The fact that he touched you will no doubt be mortifying enough once you’re back to normal. With a little guidance from you, he very slowly and cautiously presses two fingers into you, making you gasp in pleasure. You’re wet and warm and tight around his fingers and he practically drools imagining how you might feel around his cock, almost cumming on the spot just thinking about it. Merlin, he was such a pathetic virgin, maybe he should be taking the chance and losing his virginity now, but it just doesn’t feel right when he doesn’t know how you’ll feel about it afterwards. He presses his forehead to the cool wall to calm himself down and prevent him from looking at how you took his fingers in, withdrawing them just slightly and then pressing them back in. The sound that comes from you makes Neville’s heart skip, so lewd and sinful and full of ecstasy. He wants desperately to kiss you, but he knows he shouldn’t.

At your renewed pleading, he starts up a steady pace, thrusting his fingers in and out the way he wished he could with his cock, feeling filthy for even thinking it. The wet sound that each thrust made, accompanied by your wanton moans makes him feel like he’s the one who has been infected by the flower, so crazed with desire. Could there have been some pollen on you that he inhaled when he helped you up? It didn’t seem impossible, but he was also a young man, they weren’t exactly notorious for being level-headed when it came to sex. You lean heavily against him, gasping against his shoulder at each press of his fingers, the coil in your belly twisting tighter than it ever had before. You mumble incoherent pleas and he simply shushes you, not trusting himself not to give in to you if you keep talking.

“Thumb,” you breathe between vulgar moans and though it takes his sluggish brain a moment, he realises what you want. He presses his fingers deeper, fumbling a moment before his thumb grazes your sensitive bud, making you sob in pleasure. His large deft hand pleasures you like it was made for it, all you can think of is the bliss he’s giving you as he hits all the right spots over and over. Your hand flies up, nails digging into his arm as you realise you’re dangerously close to exploding, despite the bite of your nails, he doesn’t let up his pace, too addicted to the sound of your moans to slow down now. “Nev… I’m–” you cut yourself off with a shout, pleasure shooting through your body like you were struck by lighting. Your muscles tense and tremble, your eyes rolling back in your skull, walls contracting around his fingers hard. The pleasure goes through you in strong waves, drowning you in it, not allowing you respite from shivers and moans for even a second as it wracks through you. You’d never felt anything so intense and all-consuming before. Neville feels your essence gush onto his fingers and though he should be relieved it’s over, he finds himself disappointed that he has to stop doing this, hearing those bewitching sounds. Gently, he removes his hand from you and guides your skirt back down your thighs so he can finally look toward you again. His fingers are covered in your essence, creamy and mouth-watering, the only thing that’s able to stop him from having a taste is your hand still clinging to his arm. He waits for you to gather your breath, silently smug he was able to help, but also petrified of what happens next.

“Are you alright?” he asks delicately, shifting his erection away from your back now that you might actually register it. You open your eyes and look up at him, which immediately makes him frown. Your pupils are still almost comically dilated, your cheeks still pink and clammy, and though it could just be from the aftermath of your orgasm, he immediately knows something is still wrong.

“I feel better… but not entirely,” you whisper and Neville bites his lip. Great. He stands to wash his hands in the sink, and during that brief period of absence, he watches you become consumed by the effects of the flower again, pleading for him to come back. He splashes water on his face and takes a deep breath. You had reached climax, he may not be an expert in female orgasms but he knew what he just saw and felt, so what was wrong? Was the plant in the greenhouse genetically modified in some way? Would he have to call Professor Sprout to ask for help? How exactly could he explain that he’d already given you an orgasm and it hadn’t worked? Looking back, he should have taken you to Madam Pomfrey the second he’d realised what had happened to you, but he thought you would have found it too embarrassing. Now things would be infinitely more embarrassing for the both of you if you sought out help. Lesson learned, just because he’d survived a war it didn’t mean he could deal with anything life threw at him alone. He feels you approaching from behind and turns around, allowing you to sink into his arms. “Stay with me,” you plead, holding him close.

“Okay,” he sighs, because what else can he do now? “I’m here,” He caresses your bare back and tries to forget what he just did to you, but he can’t. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, kissing your forehead without thinking. “I’ve made a mess of things, we did all that and you’re not even cured,”

“Why won’t you fuck me?” you whimper. Your boldness doesn’t even surprise him anymore.

“Because it’s not what you really want, you’d never forgive me once things got back to normal, I was just the only person around for the pollen to latch onto,”

“But that’s what the pollen wants, maybe that’s the only way to cure it, I don’t just want an orgasm, I want you inside me,” you suggest. He’s glad you’re slightly more lucid from the relief of your climax, but you’re still not entirely yourself, your voice slow and sluggish like wading through water when trying to formulate logical thoughts. He can’t deny the way his cock, which had softened slightly, was coming back to life at your words. “Please…” you nuzzle against his chest. “I promise you, I want this even when I’m not… whatever I am right now,” you chuckle. He sighs. He doesn’t quite believe you but he’s running out of ideas of what to do, and your friendship is presumably ruined anyway. Maybe he’s making excuses for himself, but it feels more and more like there’s only one thing for it. He prays you’ll remember how much you begged and how hard he tried to be a gentleman and not hate him, even if you avoid him for the rest of your life after this. “I need you,” you whisper and he gives in.

“Forgive me for this,” he pleads, before lifting you into his arms and moving back over to the bench, sitting down and letting you straddle his lap. You smile at him softly, fluttering your lashes. At least the orgasm before made you a little calmer and more agreeable. If nothing else, if he gets you to orgasm again, you might be even closer to normal. He pulls you to his chest taking a moment to embrace you for what he worries may be the last time. You nuzzle into him eagerly. “I’m a virgin, you know?” he mumbles into your shoulder, not knowing why he feels the need to say it. Those words seem to embolden you, you paw at his chest.

“I promise it’ll be good, please…” you purr. He wonders how you might have reacted if you were your regular self. Would you have found it sweet? Would you have pitied him? You probably knew, everyone knew, but you never mentioned it to him. He allows you to pull off his sweater, lifting his arms and watching you discard it across the room. When you lean in to kiss him, he doesn’t even pretend to put up a fight, holding the back of your neck and kissing you back, pouring all his unspoken feelings into it. He tries to keep it slow and gentle, but you’re far too eager, and the heat starts mounting fast. He pushes away all his doubts, telling himself he can enjoy this, or else it would be even more of a waste. The t-shirt that was under his sweater is next to go, as he pulls away to allow you to rid him of it, he studies your face, still flushed and feverish, but so beautiful, full of lust. His hands fall, one to your waist and the other to your cheek, pulling you back in, pressing his lips to yours and sliding his tongue between them. You moan against his mouth, whimpering a soft sound, a thank you or a plea for more, it’s unclear. He groans back in agreement with whatever it was you intended to say. Your tongues languidly swirl together, caressing one another affectionately. Feeling your warm hands on his bare chest makes him shiver, feeling as you explore the newfound definition of his abdomen, only light, but still a change. In turn, he presses a few kisses to your chest, shakily reaching up to rid you of your bra. It falls away and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare breasts, his breath hitching. He could have never hoped he could see you like this, could have never hoped for any of this, and yet here you were, whining and guiding his hands under your skirt. He runs his hands up and down your thighs as he kisses and sucks at the supple skin of your breasts, giving himself some time to enjoy this despite your hurry. Under different circumstances, he would have liked to have left a mark and asked you to give him one in return, but he knew this was crossing a line as if a million lines hadn’t already been crossed today. At this thought he changes his mind and sucks a tiny mark into the centre of your chest that he’s sure will fade in a few hours, staring at the light pink mark a little wistfully. “Need you inside…” you whine, despite enjoying his affection. There’d be time for that later, but right now it felt completely imperative for him to be inside of you, fearing you might explode if he didn’t give you what you wanted.

“Alright, I get it,” he sighs, placing a few more lingering kisses on the swell of your breasts. Your hands find his belt buckle and without him stopping you this time, they make quick work of it. There’s an awkward shuffle as he helps you lower his jeans around his ankles, but once you’ve settled back in his lap, you take in the sight before you. He looks big even through his boxers, just like you predicted, thick and slightly longer than average. Just the thought of him inside you makes you moan and claw off your skirt with no regard for whether it survives the encounter. Neville’s overheated back presses against the cool wall as he leans back to watch you. He doesn’t bother feeling insecure, as you look like you’ve struck gold as you drool over his length, he supposes in this state you would have been happy with anything. His hands slide up and down your sides, being gentle, taking in the sight of your body, so perfect. He wishes in the back of his mind that this won’t be the last time he sees it, but hope feels too dangerous given the circumstances. He helps you slide your panties down, groaning softly as he spots a string of arousal fluid connecting you and the fabric for a while. You want him so badly. His boxers soon follow and he hisses loudly as your hand wraps around his length. “Oh Merlin…” he whimpers, bucking his hips into your hand. “Fuck, I need you,” he parrots. The ghost of a smile crosses your face as you recognise the words as your own.

“You have me,” you whisper, shifting your hips so you’re above his cock, holding him steady as he twitches. Deep brown hooded eyes stare into yours, he can’t believe his luck. Unable to wait any longer, you sink down onto him. Neville’s eyes squeeze shut in pleasure and he grabs your hips to slow you. You feel perfect around him, warm and silky and inviting, engulfing his whole being in sickly-sweet pleasure. He pulls you close, embracing you as you moan in his ear. Slowly, he lowers you down the rest of the way until your hips are flush with his. For a moment, he simply hugs you and kisses your neck.

“Feels so good,” he pants in your ear. “So good,”

“You fill me perfectly,” you whine, squirming in his lap for friction. “So big…”

“Yeah?” he coughs, trying to sound smooth but failing, causing him to chuckle nervously. “I won’t last, I’m sorry,” he rubs his hands up and down your spine. “I wish this could last forever,” He lets go of you and leans back against the wall, his hands settling on your hips, taking a moment to admire the sight of you on top of him, him inside you. You feel him twitch within you. “Take what you want, love,” he encourages you to move. There’s no point in him trying to remain in control, all he cares about is that you reach climax, he’s bound to anyway. The nickname makes you even needier somehow, the way his voice is deep with desire. Your hands find his shoulders for purchase, eyes meeting for a moment. You’re both flushed and blissful and the look in his dark eyes shoots a jolt through you. He’s always been attractive, but to see him like this, vulnerable, needy, chest-heaving, it was something else. On his advice, you begin lifting yourself up and lowering yourself down onto his cock, moaning unabashedly with each motion. He stretches you open in the most delicious way, exactly how you’d been picturing all day, or for several years really, perfectly endowed. He relaxes and closes his eyes, groaning and whimpering as you move. Every rock of your hips stokes the flames in the both of you, sending you both toward a common end faster than you regularly might.

“Thank you,” you purr between moans. “I’ve needed this so bad,”

“I know,” he chokes out with a tired smile. “I’ve needed it too,” he gently massages the fat of your rear as you ride him, watching in bliss as he disappears inside of you over and over. Your moans rise to a fever pitch, your pace faltering slightly as your climax approaches.

“Yes! Yes!” you practically scream, all your senses heightened as you slam your hips down against him. His face scrunches up in pleasure.

“I’m going to– Ahh!” he grunts, body trembling as he releases thick ropes inside of you, whining with the aftershocks as you continue using him to chase your high. It’s so close, you can’t give up now. Neville’s hands weave into your hair, pulling your face down to his to kiss you. Your tongues meet messily as you struggle to focus on the kiss, preoccupied with your orgasm that is on the tip of your tongue. Heat pools strongly in your abdomen, and you feel the familiar ecstasy of the coil snapping in your belly. Your movement immediately ceases, walls spasming around his length as you moan loudly into his mouth, grabbing him and holding him as close as possible. Your vision whites and your brain goes blank, your whole body twitching violently. He tries his best to soothe you through it, but the pleasure isn’t allowing a single thought to form in your mind for several moments. Finally, your muscles relax and you collapse against him heavily, chest heaving with effort, skin slick with sweat. You vaguely register him removing himself from you and wiping you with a towel, but the corners of your mind are fuzzy and you just cuddle closer to him. You sit in silence for a long while and you nearly fall asleep against his shoulder when he speaks up. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” you hum. He tilts your chin up towards him.

“Open your eyes, love,” he implores softly, to which you flutter them open. He sighs a great sigh of relief, seeing your pupils shrink as they react to the light, dilated now a regular amount, and the flush on your cheeks is much less than before. “Do you still need me?” he asks.

“Don’t go,” you panic, holding him closer, but then you realise what he means. “Oh… no, all I want is to maybe have a nap,”

“Thank Merlin, I couldn’t have gone for another round,” he jokes stiltedly. You giggle, cuddling closer once more. “You don’t hate me then?” he mumbles, as if worried he will have reminded you to hate him, gently pushing some hair from your face.

“No, you… saved me,” you shrug.

“Saved seems dramatic,”

“Well, who knows what would have happened to me if you’d just run away and left me alone? You didn’t have to do what you did, but you did it for me,” you lean up to kiss his cheek. “You gave yourself to me completely, just to save me from discomfort,”

“Trust me, it was my pleasure,” he laughs nervously and you gently swat his chest. “I’d do anything for you,” he whispers, kissing your forehead with a barely contained tenderness.

“Yeah, you’ve proved that,” you grin, kissing his cheek again. “And I for you,”

“You’d have had sex with me if I’d been the one to bump into the plant?” he prompts, sliding his hand up your bare side affectionately.

“Of course, I’d have done it way sooner too, not wasted time being a ‘gentleman’,” you tease. “Thank you for that though, it was sweet of you, even if it was unnecessary because I don’t regret it one bit,” you promise him, kissing his lips tenderly. He embraces you tighter for a moment and then loosens his grip.

“We should probably leave, I bet it's past teaching hours now,” he sighs before helping you up and to dress. Your panties are well and truly ruined, so you’re forced to go commando under your skirt. Neville wraps his sweater around your hips to help prevent it from flipping up as you walk through the grounds back to the dorms. He finds it difficult to dress himself as you keep eagerly kissing him, but finally get himself presentable, only to be pulled into another kiss. It’s not desperate or lustful like before, more playful and excited, and he’s happy to accept them. “I take it you like me,” he chuckles as you hug him tight, his arms around you in return.

“Loads,” you sigh into his t-shirt.

“I do too,”

“My room? I promise we can just cuddle and sleep,” you suggest, smiling up at him.

“Hey, give me a few hours, I might be raring to go again,” he jokes.

“Well then definitely my room so I can help you out, I owe you one, don’t I?” you giggle and wink. He blushes slightly and shakes his head.

“That plant has made a monster, come on,” he takes your hand in his. “Let’s go before someone notices and starts asking questions,” he opens the door into the greenhouse, accio-ing both of your bags over, as well as the open textbook from the workbench. “Stupid inaccurate thing,” he grumbles, stuffing it in his bag. You merely giggle at his frustration. As you turn to leave, you’re met with a gleam of magic, the door to the outside of the greenhouse rematerialising. The two of you exchange a look, neither of you had realised the door was even missing amidst the whole debacle, but it must have been, or else it couldn’t have reappeared. Hogwarts had forced the two of you together, it was likely your fall hadn’t even been organic in the first place. You knew you weren’t usually so uncoordinated.

“Huh,” Neville blinks, checking that the door now works, wondering when exactly it disappeared and how he had missed it. You scoff and shake your head in disbelief before the both of you laugh earnestly.

“Hogwarts is a total perv,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

xoxoxo

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ginevrapng · 2 years ago

Text

boyfriend!neville loves overstimulating you. there's nothing better than having his sweet girlfriend lying on his bed while he pulls multiple orgasms out of you. "neville please i can't take any more," you whine. you've just came for the fourth time and he's already touching you again, pressing two of his fingers inside you.

neville hushes you and kisses down your body before taking one of his nipples in your mouth and biting. you squeal and grab hold of his hair. "you know the rules petal keep your hands down or i'll tie them up." you keep your hands to your side and do your best to listen to neville. neville removes his mouth from your nipple but starts placing kisses down your body. he holds your body down by your love handles, occasionally squeezing your soft skin between his fingers. he always touches you in a way that makes you feel loved and special, like you're the most beautiful girl in the world. "you're so bloody pretty petal. you look like a goddess." your face heats up at the compliment.

neville continues leaving kisses down your body until he reaches your pussy and pushes two fingers back inside you causing you to gasp and grab hold of his arm. neville tuts at your action as you go to apologise, " 'm sorry nev just feels s'good.

"keep your hands by your side, i'm not going to tell you again. do you understand?" he says sternly still fingering you. you quickly nod your head. neville gently pinches one of your plush thighs with his other hand. "do you understand?"

"i-i understand. i promise i'll be good nev!" you reply and clench your hands into fists, consciously keeping them by your side. neville hums and places a loving kiss on your cheek, before mumbling against your cheek about how you're such a girl good for him.

neville lowers down your body and starts giving you head, precisely, just the way you like it, the way that leaves your toes curling and your voice hoarse as you scream his name. neville sucks your clit all while continuing plunging two fingers inside your pussy. "please neville, it's too much! i can't take it!" you whine loudly holding tightly onto the bedsheets.

"you can take it flower," he tells you, you can feel the vibrations of his words against your clit causing you to shiver. neville holds the back of your thick thighs and wraps his arms around them before pulling you even closer to him and returning his hands to your love handles and cunt. he feels you clench around him tightly and he spots the other telltale signs that you're about to cum. your cute noises are getting louder and you're breathing heavier, you're squirming more and squeezing your eyes hard. "let go f'me flower. you can do it." the coil that was previously winding up inside of you snaps and you hips arch up as you shake, your eyes go blurry as you cum again for the fifth time in an hour.

"good girl, good girl," he strokes your arm and kisses your hip. as you calm down and your breathing evens out he gently rubs your clit.

tears stream down your face, "no, no, no, nev please. i can't."

he kisses your hip again. "one more petal. you can give me another one right?" you whimper and nod your head before asking for a kiss.

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distantdarlings · 5 months ago

Text

SHOW ME // n. longbottom

RATING: R / 5.5K WORDS

Neville Longbottom x Gender-Neutral Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* During winter breaks from school, you and your best friend, Neville Longbottom, spend a significant amount of time at the Weasleys’.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (PIGenderNeutral - no protection), gender-neutral reader, dom!reader, sub!Neville, kissing, reader talks Neville through everything, they have sex on the Weasleys’ couch (I’m sorry, Weasleys), friends-to-lovers, language, not fully proofread (lmk if I missed anything)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Chemistry - Gigi Perez

- - -

For the last few years—as soon as Hogwarts let out for winter break—you'd found yourself packing for a different house than the one you'd grown up in.

Of course, you'd end up at your childhood home eventually so you could share Christmas gifts with your family, but the first few weeks before Christmas day were spent elsewhere.

At The Burrow, to be exact. A cozy dwelling that resembled several small houses stacked on top of one another vertically. Every time you stopped in front of the huge building, you found yourself squinting against the sun and cranking your head back to try and take it all in.

The Weasleys were a wonderful family and never hesitated to take you in every winter. You and every other one of their many children’s friends. Their presence felt almost as close to home as your own family.

You stared at the grand array of all of your things packed neatly away. With hands on your hips and head tilted to the side, you surveyed everything to ensure you had all you needed.

A knock on your door echoed throughout the emptied dorm room. You looked back and made eye contact with Neville Longbottom.

A smile spread across your lips. You nodded him further into the room.

Clutched in his right fist was a tattered leather bag, stuffed full with all of his things. It was less than you were taking home but more than some of the students here had. Though, not by much.

“I'm just making sure I'm completely covered,” you explained, turning back to your things.

“I’d say you're completely covered and then some,” he chuckled nervously. He came to stand beside you and stopped.

Jokingly, you nudged him in the ribs with your elbow and rolled your eyes. Embarrassed, he hung his head and softly apologized.

“I'm just messing with you,” you laughed. “Don't take me so seriously. Merlin knows I don't.”

“‘Can't help it sometimes,” he shrugged.

“I know,” you responded. “Help me grab everything?”

He nodded and shifted his bag into his left hand so he could grab one of your bags. The two of you always traveled to the Weasleys together, usually by the Hogwarts Express with the flame-headed children themselves, but this year was different.

This year, you were both able to Disapparate and had decided to come a few days later than the others. Call it practice.

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had already left with the Weasley children and were probably settled in, sucking down cinnamon hot chocolate and swapping stories. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a little jealous.

But, Neville wanted to Disapparate and couldn't leave until today, and you weren't going to leave your best friend alone.

“Ready?” he asked. You grabbed the last bag on your bed and nodded.

He seemed to stand there awkwardly for a moment, preparing himself to lead the Disapparation. It was his practice and you knew he didn't want any help, but you could hardly stand to watch him struggle.

You reached over and selected his hand with your free one, entwining your fingers within his. You could hear his slight inhale of breath as your skin touched his. The familiar heat coming off of him settled in your chest. Comfort blossomed when he was near.

“Go ahead,” you whispered supportively. His fingers subconsciously tightened around yours as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He envisioned where he meant to take the two of you. There was a brief moment of silence before the two of you whipped away.

The two of you slid together abruptly and meshed in and out of one another, almost sickeningly so, before your feet suddenly hit solid ground, knocking both of you into each other.

The air was pushed out of your lungs as Neville collapsed to the dirt with a grunt and you fell atop him. Your hands braced against his chest and his arms wrapped gently around your waist in an attempt to catch you before you face-planted.

Your body slammed into his, your nose stopping inches from his. A small gasp released from both of you as your thoughts collected themselves, only to converge onto the other.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” you said gently, easing yourself back off of him and helping him lean up.

“‘S okay,” he murmured shyly, shaking his head. He pulled himself to his feet, brushing the dust from his sweater.

“Nice fucking landing!” A voice echoed against the curve of the Burrow.

The two of you turned to see the Weasley twins standing on either side of the front entrance, hands on their knees and guffawing. You rolled your eyes at the two boys.

Neville chuckled just a bit, a blush flooding his cheeks as red as a rose.

“Shut up!” you fired back, picking a stone up from the ground and hurling it at the two of them.

Wandlessly, one of them deflected the stone, sending it flying somewhere off to the right. “Hey, don't throw shit at my mother’s house!”

“Yeah, throw rocks at your own house!”

Neville helped you gather all of the bags that had flown about when you'd landed. His head hung low as he appeared to be hiding the flush on his cheeks. You wanted to smack the twins for making him so embarrassed. They knew how shy he was and picking on him only made him retreat more within himself. You wanted Neville to enjoy this trip, not spend the entirety of it ashamed of himself and painfully aware of everything he did.

One of the twins pushed the door open, allowing Neville to slip in, bags in tow. As you followed behind him, you eyed the twins threateningly and mumbled a threat through gritted teeth.

“What was that? I couldn't hear you,” one of them said, pretending to cup his ear so he could hear you better.

“I said not to embarrass him like that. You know how he gets.”

The two of them shrugged innocently.

You turned to the one that had pretended to listen to you. “Which one are you, asshole?” You shoved your finger into his face.

“I'm George,” he said, staring you down. You deadpanned and cocked your hip.

“Really?” Too often had the Weasley twins faked being the other for their own interests.

“Yes, dear, that is George! At least I'm pretty sure…”

You looked further into the doorway to see Molly coming around the corner. A smile spread across your lips.

Immediately, you dropped all of your bags and pushed past the twins to fall into her arms.

“Oh dear, you know I missed you so terribly much!” she cried, wrapping her warm arms around you.

“I missed you more, Mrs. Weasley!” you smiled, pulling away and looking her over. “I hope all is well?”

“Yes, of course, and just Molly, dear, please! ‘Mrs. Weasley’ makes me feel old!” The two of you exchanged laughs and another hug before her eyes settled on her twin sons.

“Now, which one of you was giving them trouble?” she demanded, eyes squinting and hands placed on her hips.

The two of them looked back and forth before stuttering out explanations, blaming each other then blaming you then—

“Hush! Stop all of this bickering at once!” she demanded. “If the two of you want to bother our guests, you can help them get settled. Grab their bags out of the doorway and take them up into their room.”

“But—” Fred started. Molly’s eyebrows raised as if challenging her son to argue back. When he realized he would lose that fight, his shoulders dropped and he turned to grab your abandoned bags. George sighed and whispered a complaint to his brother.

“No complaining!” Molly said, before placing an arm around your shoulders and leading you into the kitchen. “Just soup tonight, I’m afraid, but just on time!”

“That’s more than wonderful, Molly,” you laughed, surveying the cozy kitchen as she pulled you into it. Just past the brick divider, you glimpsed Neville leaning against the kitchen counter. Molly had already stuck a ladle in his hands and had him stirring the contents of a large, bronze pot on the stove.

“Not too slow, dear, you’ll burn it!” Molly scolded him.

“S-sorry,” Neville stuttered, immediately picking up the pace.

“No need for apologies,” she smiled, selecting a small, buttery dinner roll from a wooden bowl and placing it in his hand. He hushed himself up as he bit into it, a delicious curl of steam exiting the fluffy thing.

You found your mouth watering before you’d even been in the house for a few minutes. There was little that could beat Molly Weasley’s cooking—not even the house elves in the Hogwarts kitchens stood a chance against her.

She selected the ladle from out of Neville’s hands and took back over the stirring, waving the two of you into the dining room. She mentioned that everyone else was there, preparing the table and waiting for the two of you.

As you entered the dining room through the back of the kitchen, gentle conversation became louder and louder until it stopped and seven pairs of eyes landed on you and Neville.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, and Arthur Weasley all watched as the two of you walked in.

“Hey!” An eruption of greetings echoed from the small room as each of them came over and said hello in their own ways.

You pressed a hug to Ginny, Hermione, and Tonks, laughing through murmured jokes and stupid questions. You reached across the table to place a hand within Remus’, nodding a sweet but brief greeting to the quiet man. Arthur slapped a high-five to your hand on your way past him to slap a hand against Ron and Harry, pulling them against your shoulder.

One of your best qualities had always been being a social chameleon of sorts. You could befriend anyone who was a decent person.

“How’s everyone?” You asked, helping Hermione spread rolled napkins around the table placements.

Murmurs of small, joking complaints and excited phrases echoed through the room. Already, you felt so at ease, that you could hardly imagine how you could leave at the end of this.

You glanced over at Neville who chatted lightly with Ginny. His hands spread wide as he seemed to be describing something, just as he always did when he spoke about anything he was passionate about.

You tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy that was rooted in your stomach.

It wasn't often that Neville was so open in chatting about things, especially when it seemed to be something he was passionate about. Logic told you it was likely something Herbology-related as he and Ginny were both in Professor Sprout’s class at the start of the new semester, and Neville was practically a genius when it came to the subject.

He'd tutored you a thousand times in the class and you were certain he'd do the same for Ginny. She was a smart girl, however, and you couldn't imagine her needing tutoring.

It was probably nothing. You were being ridiculous.

“He seems pretty talkative tonight,” Hermione noted.

“Hmm?” you looked at her. She nodded to Neville. Your thoughts went straight back to the boy you were trying to ignore. “Oh, I think he's talking about Herbology.”

“How can you tell?” she asked, setting the final napkin down. Your hands pressed into the table.

“Well, he only really talks with his hands like that when he's excited with what he's talking about. Plus, you see that motion he's making with his hands?”

She looked more specifically at his hands, watching as his fingers pinched together and weaved in and out of each other, before flipping at the wrist and turning towards his body. “Yeah, what's he doing?”

“He’s describing the best way to tend to the Venomous Tentacula without using the Severing Charm on it. He feels like it's cruel.”

“I thought Professor Sprout said to tend to them with long-ended instruments.”

“Her and every Herbology book about there!” you laughed. “However, none of them are particularly concerned with the ‘feelings’ of the plant. Neville, however, is. So, he developed a way to calm them long enough to tend to them without having to lose any unnecessary vines.”

“That's incredible!” she giggled.

“I know,” you responded. “I feel like I've seen him demonstrate that motion about a thousand times.”

“Well, you know him best,” she sighed pleasantly before taking off back toward the kitchen. You were slightly taken aback by her comment. Was that a common belief? Did everyone think you knew Neville best?

“Dinner!” Molly called from behind the kitchen wall. Your thoughts were interrupted by the commotion of everyone shuffling into the kitchen for their portion.

Once everyone had filled their bowls and selected their spoons—all different and collected over a long amount of years—they found their seats at the table, elbows rubbing and laughter echoing.

Neville settled beside you, warm sweatered arms brushing yours every few seconds. His thighs were pressed against yours due to the amount of people shoved at this table and, despite your lack of personal space, you found yourself incredibly comfortable.

Surrounded by all of your friends and the closest thing to family you had, you found complete peace every year and you were so grateful for it.

Neville caught you glancing around the table, taking all of the love and comfort in. A small smile built on his face as his eyes scanned yours. While you scanned the room, experiencing everything you were grateful for in real-time, Neville did the same.

You saw him watching you and turned to him. “What?” you laughed. His eyes flickered and he pulled them away from your gaze.

“Sorry,” he murmured, unable to hide all of his smile.

“Don't apologize. What, is there something on my face?” you chuckled, nudging him with your elbow again.

He shook his head, that small smile still hinting at the corner of his lips. You decided to drop it but still wondered what he'd been doing in the back of your mind. He returned to his food and you returned to yours.

***

By the time dinner had ended and the decision to open Christmas presents tomorrow night had been made, everyone retreated to their own spaces.

Hermione was rooming with Ginny and Harry was rooming with Ron just as they did every year; Tonks and Remus gave everyone their farewells; Fred and George were off plotting some heinous prank in their bedroom; Molly and Arthur had turned in for the night. And that just left you and Neville.

The two of you were settled on the couch in the sitting room near the front door. The curtains were drawn across the windows behind you and the fire in the corner smoldered. A few lit candles surrounded you, pitching a dim but warm light over you.

Neville was deep into the assigned Herbology textbook for the upcoming semester. He'd mentioned that he wanted to get a jumpstart on reading so he was well-informed by the time Sprout’s class started. He leaned against the couch arm, one hand balled into a fist and holding his head up, the other tracing the edges of the old book pages as he waited to turn them.

Your back was pressed against his shoulder, legs propped across the length of the couch with a knit blanket tossed over them. They bent at the knee, keeping the warmth in. Your arms were crossed over your chest and your head leaned against the back of the couch. Between the fire in the corner and Neville’s comforting scent, you found yourself dozing peacefully.

That was until Neville breathed a sigh and pushed his book closed.

He stood abruptly, pulling you down from lying against him. Your back hit the couch with a small startle. “Hey!”

“S-sorry, I just—I’m not…,” he stuttered.

“What's wrong?” you asked, laughing lightly. You propped yourself up against the couch.

Neville watched you closely as you stared at him with an amused look on your face. He knew you just didn't understand why he was upset, but he couldn't help but feel embarrassed. He didn't know how to word anything that he was feeling.

Then the collar of your oversized sleep shirt slipped down over your shoulder, exposing it and a small portion of your chest.

He bit back a groan and turned immediately to the kitchen. He walked through the doorways and propped Mrs. Weasley’s kettle on the stove.

“Nev, what are you doing?” you asked, placing the palm of your hand on your sleepy eyes.

He turned to the open doorway to see you standing there, crossing your arms against the night chill and shifting your weight between your feet. You wore wool socks tugged up to your calves and shorts that didn't make it past the hem of your shirt. Your legs were fully on display before him.

He turned back to the stove, hand clutching the kettle's handle so tight, that his knuckles were bleeding white.

“I don't know, I'm just not feeling so well,” he shrugged, clenching his eyes shut.

His face was turned away from you but you were certain he'd be blushing if he turned around. You wondered if you'd made him uncomfortable by laying against him, but you always did that. It wasn't an uncommon position for the two of you to be in at all. You were completely unsure what was wrong with him.

“Okay…,” you trailed off. You crossed the tiled floor and gently slid your fingers over the back of his hand. He flinched just a bit as your fingertips covered his clenched knuckles. You eased his hand away from the handle and set it between the two of you, still holding onto it.

You whispered a spell and heard the kettle fill itself with water. Another quiet string of words and the stove clicked on, flames whooshing quietly.

“If you're not feeling well, I'll make you some tea. Just come sit back down, okay?” you said, hand still wrapped around Neville’s.

Though he seemed to still be hiding his face from yours, he still sighed and conceded, following you back into the sitting room.

The two of you sat back down in your previous places, only this time you were both perched on the edge of the couch. Neville's leg was bouncing nervously and you were still holding his hand. Your thumb brushed soothingly across his knuckles.

Testing the waters in how stressed he was, you gently set your hand on his back. Just like earlier, he seemed to flinch at your touch.

Annoyed, you pulled your hand away and released your grip on his.

“Merlin, Nev, did I do something wrong?” you scoffed. “You've practically been ignoring me since we got here and you act as if I've burned you every time I get close.”

“No, I–”

“Seriously, I feel like I'm being quarantined here. If I did something or said something, you can tell me. Just please don't ignore me like this.”

“It's not that—you didn't do anything,” he sighed, pressing his face into his hands.

“Then, what? What is it?” you pushed. He pulled away from his hands and turned to face you, his eyes flicked awkwardly back and forth from you and the floor.

“Please tell me. I wouldn't be able to handle it if you were angry with me. Please, Nev, you're my best friend—”

He cut your desperate rambling off by abruptly pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes widened at the contact and found themselves staring right back at his widened eyes.

He pulled back and stared at you. You stared back. Silence fell between the two of you. When you said nothing, he dropped his eyes back to the ground. That one moment felt like the longest he'd ever maintained eye contact with you.

“I-I’m so sorry, I don't know why—” he sighed and started to stand before you braced your hands against his chest just as you had when you'd fallen on him earlier this evening. You blocked him from getting up and connected your mouths again. Only this time, you kissed him with a fervor you'd never felt before and he kissed back.

Your lips slid across each other’s, biting and sucking and tasting what you'd both been craving for years. When your tongue separated his lips and caressed the inside of his mouth, he breathed a sigh against you, grasping at your arms and pulling you closer.

Your hands pushed into his hair, each finger curling around its own strand of dark silk. When your nails scraped against his scalp, a small whine exited his lips.

Neville had never kissed anyone before and, yet, it was everything he'd never known he was missing. Your scent, your taste, and your touch were both over and underwhelming to the sensation pooling in his pajama pants. He needed more and less of you at the same time, but he’d never ask for less.

You pushed him back against the corner of the couch, crawling up his body, never pulling your lips apart. You settled your aching core over him as you straddled his lap.

His hands stayed perched against the middle of your back, seemingly desperate to hold you close but too nervous to touch anywhere else.

When you settled, your core bumped against him, and two gasps echoed between the two of you. At that, you pulled away and forced the two of you to take breaths.

“I've never…,” he trailed off, eyes starting to break contact again, but you stuck a finger beneath his chin and tilted his face back up toward you. He wasn't looking away this time.

“I'll show you,” you whispered, breath still coming out in soft pants. “I'll walk you through it, just please don't go.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” he sighed gently, eyes fluttering dreamily, pulling quiet giggles from the two of you.

Within seconds, you were pulling his arms out from around you and placing his hands on your hips. You reached between the two of you and wrapped your fingers around the hem of your sleep shirt.

He watched you as intently as you could have ever imagined anyone staring at another person. Every minute movement your fingers made, he followed like a radar.

You pulled upward, allowing the oversized shirt to slide slowly over your head. Every inch of your bare chest was revealed to Neville, easily and smoothly. A small gasp slipped from between his lips and his hands popped up like he was going to touch you.

Your eyes held contact with his as he seemed to debate the decision. A small smile slid across your lips as you watched his inner turmoil.

“It's okay, Nev, you can touch me,” you whispered. He took a deep, shuddering breath before nodding slightly and pressing his fingertips to your sides.

The warmth of his skin sent an electrifying shock through your body. You sucked in a deep breath, covering his hands with yours.

With a little help, you urged him to help you roll your hips against his. You could feel him hardening beneath you with each wave that rolled through your body.

He sighed and, with a bit of gained confidence, pressed his lips back against yours. You sighed against him, deepening the kiss with every second. His hands finally seemed to gather their own breath of courage and tightened their grip on your hips.

His fingertips dug into your flesh, manipulating your body closer against his own. His hardened core brushed against your own, eliciting a moan from each of you.

“T-That’s it,” you shuddered against his lips. “Keep doing that.”

“What?” he gasped. “This?”

He rolled his hips up against yours. Your eyes rolled toward the back of your head, the pleasure stimulating every bit of your lower half. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt. And the most annoying thing was that he seemed genuinely curious, he seemed completely unsure if that particular maneuver would’ve made you feel good or not. Fuck, what did you even need to teach him? Nature could teach pretty well on its own.

“Was that good?” he asked, knocking you out of your stupor.

“I’m sorry,” you chuckled. “Yes, it felt amazing. I’m trying to figure out how much I need to explain to you.”

“Er, everything,” he smiled. “I’m clueless, except for—well, you know, what makes me feel…good.”

He seemed embarrassed, flush starting to bleed into his cheeks once again. You laughed at his expression before pressing a reassuring kiss to his lips. “I’ll still walk you through it.”

He nodded, another small smile finding its way into his face. Your fingers gently traced his cheeks, drawing imaginary pictures across his skin. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment before he opened them once more as you began to shift your weight.

“If I do something wrong, you just stop me, okay?” you said. He said nothing, just watched you closely like he had been earlier. “Okay?”

He nodded slowly, his fingers still lined your hips.

You lifted yourself off of him and moved back along his legs, settling down on them closer to the knee. Your fingers settled around the tie at his waist, skin skimming slightly along his core through his pants. He gasped gently at the sensation but allowed you to do whatever you saw fit.

You pulled the tie loose, letting the waistband fall limp. You stood off of him and helped him slide the fabric down the length of his legs. Then, he nervously helped you slide your shorts from your legs.

You were now completely exposed before him. Underwear never really suited you, you’d decided. At least, not for right now, anyway.

With shuddering breaths, he helped you settle back onto his lap, allowing yourself to take in every ounce of his scent. His eyes scanned every inch of you, desperate to drink in the entirety of your essence.

Your bare core settled against his, the fabric of his underwear sliding deliciously against you. You bit back a moan as you allowed yourself a few indulgent grinds. He didn't seem to mind, though, as his eyes rolled backward with each roll of your hips.

“‘Look so gorgeous like this,” you whispered. He seemed to whimper delicately beneath his breath, his hands so desperately trying to place themselves somewhere. With a single finger, you brushed his mussed hair away from his forehead and pressed a small kiss there.

Then, you were leaning up and tugging his underwear down just enough to expose him. With a burst of confidence, his hands came to settle back on your hips and his thumbs braced against your abdomen. They traced across your stomach sweetly a few times before slipping ever so slightly over the edge of your core. His proximity to your most sensitive area had you shaking with anticipation.

“Can I—?” he started but stopped himself, seemingly turning the thought over in his mind.

“Can you what?” you sighed, silently begging to sit yourself down onto him. Your mouth was practically watering at this point.

“Can I…can we do it with nothing…er…on? Like, nothing between?” He looked down, shame painted over his cheeks.

You laughed softly, tilting his head back upward just like you’d done earlier. Your eyes searched his.

“Nev, we can do anything you want as long as you do one thing for me.”

“What is it? Anything.” His voice seemed a bit rushed, as if he was having to push the excitation down.

“You have to look me in the eye and tell me what you want to do,” you said. “Because I’m tired of you looking away from me. I want to see you.”

He seemed to swallow thickly at the confession. Perhaps it was the location or what the two of you were doing or just you, but he was finding it increasingly harder to keep this up. Any of their hosts could walk down the stairs at any point—

Your hips rolled toward his, your naked cores sliding against one another’s.

“Oh, my god,” he moaned aloud, almost so loud you swore he’d wake everyone in the house. You shushed him amusedly, waiting for his answer. Though you already knew what it was going to be.

His eyes found yours, lidded and lust-filled. His chest rose and fell with each pant he took. You could tell this was hard for him, keeping himself from you, even if he wasn’t quite sure of what to do.

“I want to…fuck you with no protection.” He’d stuttered just a bit, but he’d done it. And kept his eyes on you the whole time, no doubt. That just proved how much he truly wanted you. You smiled widely.

With one last acceptance from him, you sank down onto him, letting every inch of him slide into you until you were completely sheathed within him. “Fuck, Nev.”

“Feel so…,” he moaned, shyly running his hands along your bare back.

“Fuck into me,” you sighed, finally adjusted to his length. “Lift me up and start at your own pace.”

His hands wrapped tightly around you in a deep hug as he prepared himself to begin fucking you. Your heart pounded in anticipation. His soft face pressed to your bare chest, his cheek pushed against your heartbeat. And, with surprising strength, he began to ease you up and down onto him.

He set a gentle but deliberate pace, the angle you both settled in brushed every spot you needed and always neglected to hit yourself.

Your fingers slid against his scalp, gripping his hair, attempting to grasp onto any purchase available. You concealed your moans as best you could, but failed miserably. If anyone were to stand at the top of the stairs, they’d likely be able to hear you if they held their breath.

Neville groaned lightly against you as he worked himself and you towards the finish. Adoration poured into his chest at the feelings you were giving him. His lips parted and pressed against your naked throat and collarbone, sucking and biting desperately. You gasped at the sensation.

Between his presence and the pent-up desire that had built to a fever pitch until it came ready to burst between the two of you.

“Give me your hand,” you moaned. He leaned back and presented his right hand before you. You continued the pace he had set, riding him until your hips burned. You pressed his large hand between the two of you and settled it over your core. With a gentle motion, you eased his thumb over the most sensitive part of your body and urged him to provide the final bit of stimulation you needed.

With the continued pace, the burning in your thighs, his hand on your back, and the other on your core, you felt the tension explode.

Your arousal spilled effortlessly over him. It painted his lap and the inside of your thighs. You continued to ride him throughout the entire finish, hurling your body through waves and waves of pleasure.

As you tightened around him and forced your body through continued thrusts, he came within you, pumping your body full of his endless spillage. His body shook as you worked him through his first orgasm with another person, forcing it out as long as you could. You wanted this to be perfect for him.

When you came down from your high and he finally ended his, you collapsed against his chest and he fell against the back of the couch. Beads of sweat traced his flesh and mingled with yours. His chest heaved heavily, his eyes thick and lidded.

“My god, you’re perfect,” you sighed, panting aloud. Your fingertips traced down the length of his abdomen.

“You’re saying that to me?” he chuckled nervously, fingers lightly caressing your back.

“Yes, I am,” you smiled softly, leaning up and pressing a fond kiss to his lips.

Though you were best friends, it wasn’t easy to notice all of the little tells Nev had that exposed his secret infatuation for you. But, now that you’d both revealed your feelings to each other—both physical and emotional—it seemed so simple to look back over all of the interactions you’d had with him. The small glances, the hand brushes, the extra study sessions, the way he listened to you when you spoke like no one else did. You had no idea how you could have been so blind.

Your eyes were open now, though, and you didn’t plan on closing them any time soon unless you were pressed against his chest and listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

- - -

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#creative writing #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #gryffindor #neville longbottom #neville longbotton x reader #neville longbottom smut #gender neutral insert #gender neutral reader #requested #the weasleys #the burrow

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mysweetcrona · 6 months ago

Text

𐙚 Heart Shaped Bed

Virgin!Sub!Neville x Virgin!Switch!Fem!Reader ⊹₊ ⋆ summary: reader is insecure about having a submissive side so, she pushes back having sex with Neville.

𑁍ࠬܓ𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ɞ cw: established relationship, insecurity?, reader is a switch but neville is still submissive(he’s trying his best^^;), reader is still more dominant tho, afab reader, she/her pronouns used on reader, neville has a big dick TRUST, one line about getting knocked up, creampie

4k words

Guiding Neville to your dorm room with a smile on your face, you’ve been teasing him every chance you could get. Your hand would lightly graze his thigh while you sat next to him in DADA or, during lunch when you rested your hand on his thigh, rubbing small circles into his inner thigh. A small smirk on your face while you ate. He could barely eat any of his lunch, too focused on the hand trailing up his thigh. Eventually lunch was over, immediately you grabbed his hand and led him to your room.

You know enough about your roommates that they’d probably, hopefully, not be in the shared room. You open the door as you shove him in, shutting the door and putting a locking charm on it. You kick your shoes off before turning around with a grin and approaching him, he steps back with a sheepish grin. Eventually, you push him onto your bed, climbing into his lap. “My pretty boy,” you say lightly brushing his jaw. Giving him a soft kiss on his lips, “love you.” You mumble and kiss him again. He softly moans into the kiss, always so sensitive. You sit in his lap and run your hands through his hair, “so, so pretty..” You coo and kiss his jaw.

Neville whines, his hands rest on your hips, softly grabbing them. “Love you too..” He whimpers.

You smile and kiss him again, slowly pushing him down onto the mattress so he lays down. “My baby.. Always so good for me…” You smile, brushing his hair back and out of his face. He gives you a soft, shy smile.

You and Neville have done sexual things, sure. However, never more than a handjob or blowjob. He’s never touched you more than your thighs or chest, he’s never explored your more intimate areas. Not that you or him have ever thought about it, however, you didn’t know if you were sure you were ready to take that next step. Neville always expected you to be more dominant in the bedroom, and in general. You never had any issue with it, you enjoyed watching him squirm and blush under you from the slightest touch. Although, the fear came from your other slight experiences with sex. Your ex-boyfriend was big on servicing you with either his mouth or fingers. You could usually keep up the more dominant act until you got closer to your orgasm, that's when your boyfriend at the time had to take the reins. But now you're dating Neville who, you're certain, doesn’t have a dominant bone in his body.

You sigh quietly looking down at him, “You alright?” He asks, noticing your change in demeanor.

You nod, “mhm!” You brush it off and continue touching him. “Nothing to worry about, my sweet boy.” You say with a smile, kissing his cheek. “I love you, my pretty boy..” He starts to forget your previous change in demeanor and whines softly at your words.

You begin to grind on his groin, noting the fact he’s already hard. Your skirt rides up your thighs and hips, revealing your black cotton panties that show through your black tights. You go down to kiss his neck and jaw. He moans softly as your pussy grinds against his covered cock, “F-fuck, baby. Feels good!” His voice pitches up into a high pitched moan. “Ohh my god! Please!” His grip on your hips tightens, “More please!” You grin and start to suck on a soft spot under his ear, his hips buck up making your movements on his neck stagger.

Pulling away from his neck you kiss his lips again, deepening the kiss while you grab his face. One of your hands rubs the side of his neck, wrapping your hand softly around the middle of his neck. “Pretty boy,” You moan into the kiss. Your hips slow down to avoid your own climax, he tries to grind his hard cock back onto your wet pussy. You push his hair behind his ear with the hand on his face, you pull away from the kiss. “Merlin, you’re so perfect, my prince.” You mutter. “Wanna ruin you..” You sit back up and put your hands on his chest, lightly groping his soft upper body.

“Need you to touch me,” He whimpers, his face flushed. “Please..” He begs, hands roaming up your body to your breasts.

You nod giggling softly, getting off of him and sitting next to him. “Sit up baby,” he does as he’s told and sits up. “Lean on me,” he falls into your arms and cuddles himself in arms. You wrap your arm around his waist, one hand on his bulge. A wet spot through his jeans, “So hard, this all for me?” You ask with a smile, looking up at him. He nods, his face flushed, licking his lips nervously. You use one hand to unbutton and unzip his pants, his breath falters as your fingers brush against his cock. You feel how wet you start to get at his reactions, “Merlin, you're so cute. Can’t get enough of you and your adorable reactions.” Neville whimpers at your words, his face pink in arousal and a hint of embarrassment. He watches as you pull down his boxers, his hard cock sprung out and hit his stomach. “Such a big cock, all for me.” You mumble to him. The desire to have him inside you grows, he was so big, something anyone who would’ve seen his cock would agree. You felt so lucky knowing you're the only one who’s seen it. You wrap your hand around his cock at the base, spitting on the head of his cock, “Love your cock so much, so big. So perfect, just for me.”

He whimpers, and shakes his head. “No, not that big..” He whimpers embarrassed.

You look up at him confused. “Hmm? What do you mean? Your cock is so, so big. Never seen a cock this big,” You reassure him, grabbing the base of his cock to emphasize your point. “Want it inside me, would fill me so perfectly.” You spoke without thinking. He looks into your eyes, slightly shocked. You’ve never brought up going all the way, realizing what you’ve said when you look up at his face after realizing he tensed up. Your own eyes widen and you blush. “Uhm..sorry.. I didn’t mean to..” You trailed off.

“I want to,” He responds. “If you were serious that is..”

You blush and look away for a second, “I want to, uhm, go all the way. It’s just..” He looks at you confused, “Nevermind. I want to. Let’s do it, yea?” He nods hesitantly.

You go back to focusing on his cock, having to spit on it again since the saliva from earlier dried up. You stroke up and down his length, the saliva spread around his shaft now. “Love you..” He murmured. You hummed in agreement leaning up to kiss him, your hand that wasn’t stroking his cock went to his cheek. Caressing his face, deepening the kiss. He whimpers into the kiss, his hips bucking up into your hand. Your hand speeds up, precum leaking out of his tip. “Ffuck,” He whines. “ ‘M close,” Neville moans sweetly, his moans sounding so beautiful as they escape his lips. You let out a small giggle, hooded eyes looking lovingly into his eyes. He goes back in for a kiss, he lets out a loud whiny moan into the kiss. His hands tightly grabbing onto the soft meat of your hips. “Ohhmygod! Please! I’m close!” He moaned looking down at your hand, quickly stroking his cock. Your thumb grazing over his tip, making his cock twitch and leak more precum.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my hand.” You order, hand speeding up. He moans loudly, hips bucking up. His hips lifted up off the mattress, one hand behind him onto the mattress grabbing onto the sheets. Neville’s other hand still on your hip, nails digging into you. He whines as he bucks into your hand a couple more times, he eventually relaxes and falls back onto the mattress. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, you kiss his jaw and murmur loving words of affirmation. “Did so good for me baby, I love you so much. Always cum so pretty for me, good boy Nev.” He whines and rests his head against yours, you nuzzle against him. Leaning up to kiss him, he tiredly kissed back. You hum lovingly before pulling away. “Good boy, Nev. Need a break, my prince?”

Neville shakes his head, “I can keep going!” He responds quickly, exhaustion evident in his voice. However, the idea of finally being inside of you keeps him going and ready to continue. “Please,” He adds sweetly, making you giggle softly.

“Okay, baby. Really wanna fuck me, hm?” You purr in his ear. “Wanna feel my pussy around your fat cock?” You tease him, the tone in your voice sounding slightly demeaning.

He blushes and nods, “Please…” He whimpers at the thought of finally being inside you. Neville bucks his hips up in arousal, his cock beginning to harden again.

You let out a soft chuckle, “Okay, baby..” You stand up in front of him and begin to strip. Starting with the sweater over your button up, throwing it onto the floor next to you. Teasingly unbuttoning your top slowly, your cleavage revealed slowly to your bra, black with a small white bow accompanied by white lace where the cups meet. Neville makes an audible gulp at the sight, not that it's the first he’s seen you shirtless but, it never got old, never made him less excited. His cock was hard, back up to full length. You smirk as you undo the last buttons and pull it down, now shirtless. You grab your breasts, still covered by your bra and push 'em up a bit, jiggling them. With a soft giggle you reach back and unclasp your bra, pushing it down your shoulders allowing gravity to do its magic and let it fall. Neville’s eyebrows furrow in arousal, his breath quickening. Panting. A grin finds its way to your face, “like the view, Nev?” He looks up from your breasts and nods, keeping his hands to his sides, his fists balled up and gripping onto the sheets. You giggle sweetly and continue with your little strip tease. Grabbing your skirt and unbuttoning it, unzipping the small zipper and let it fall off your hips. Left now in just your sheer black tights, your cotton panties are visible through them. Neville’s breath hitches and his cock twitches in arousal. Finally you reach for your tights, thumbs under the material of your panties and tights. Slowly pulling them down, now completely naked in front of him. You kick the tights to the side with the rest of your clothes. Nev sits up more, drinking in the sight of his completely bare girlfriend.

“Fuck..” He mutters in awe. “You’re gorgeous…”

You feel your face flush a bit. “C’mon.. Wanna get you naked too..” You get closer to him and sit on his thighs, his cock now pressed against your pelvic area, his head touching your lower stomach. Neville’s breath quickens at the feeling of his cock so close to your wet cunt, “C’mon, raise your arms, baby” You say already trying to lift his sweater off. He does as told, you rip off his top and immediately make quick work on his button up. His top half now stripped, Neville’s face flushes with insecurity. “Merlin, so pretty, baby..” You say lovingly. “My sweet boy,” You look up and kiss him delicately. “So, so pretty..” He whines and leans back in for another kiss, you quickly kiss back. He softly moans into the kiss, bucking up his hips and rubs his cock against you. You smile into the kiss at the realization of his need. “So needy,” You tease, immediately reconnecting your lips to his. He whimpers in need.

“Please, pleasepleaseplease..” Neville pulls away and whimpers, precum already leaking from his cock.

“Hm? Please what, sweet boy?” You say teasingly. “Can’t help you if you don’t specify what you need soo badly, baby.” Of course, you need what he wants just as badly. However, teasing him so much is fun, seeing him beg for you is exhilarating.

He whimpers and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, “Please.. Please let me feel you. Wanna put it in..Please.” He begs sweetly, face flushed in embarrassment. “I need it..”

You nod, “Okay, I get it, baby. Wanna fuck me, yea?” Neville replied with a whimper and a nod. You grin, god you loved teasing him. He always looked so cute when he was embarrassed; flushed from his face down to his chest, his eyes would avoid yours, and the stuttering. God how you loved how he’d trip over his words, most people found it obnoxious but, you? You loved it. Loved how pathetic it made him seem, especially at times like these. You loved feeling in control over him, loved how willing he was to submit. “Okay…” You lightly grab his face, pulling away from your neck to make him look back up at you, “So cute… Okay, Nev. Gonna need you to get me ready, can you do that? Can you use those pretty fingers to stretch me open? Get me ready for your big cock?” You emphasize your words and grind your pelvis against his cock.

Neville immediately nods, “Yes! Anything!” His hands instantly go to your sides, you both readjust so you're laying on your back with your head on the pillows of your bed. Neville leaning above you between your spread legs, his eyes focused on your glistening wet pussy. “Merlin, ‘s so pretty.”

Suddenly you feel a bit embarrassed yourself, “C’mon, touch me. Don’t be shy…”

Neville nods and uses his left hand to touch your folds, you let out a soft gasp. His eyes widen at how wet you are, “Oh.. wow..” He slowly explores your pussy, lightly grazing your clit down to your entrance. He goes back up to the small bump at the top of your cunt, forcing a small moan out of you. “Did that feel good?” He asked.

You nodded, “Yes… keep touching there.” He nodded and kept rubbing your clit. You started to let out slightly louder moans, “Oh! Nev!” Your legs spread more, yearning for more of his touch. Neville couldn't focus between your cunt that soaked his fingers or your pretty face while you let out such pretty moans from his touch. “Put your fingers in! Fill me up, baby! Need it!” You moaned. He nodded and pushed his fingers down, slowly putting his middle finger inside. You let out a small gasp at the intrusion, “Oh Merlin, Nev!” You moaned. Neville watched intently at every small reaction you made, your own eyes focused on his finger pumping in and out of your pussy. Neville pants above you, incredibly aroused at the view of you split open around his finger. The soft, sweet moans you let out at his simple movements. “More! Please, please put more in!” You moan. He nods and immediately puts his ring finger in next to his middle finger, you let out a loud moan at the stretch. You let out a breath of pleasure while his fingers pound into your g-spot, “Nev!” Your eyes close shut and eyebrows furrow up, “Merlin…”

“You’re so pretty, so pretty…” Neville says softly to you. His right hand raises to rub your right thigh softly, trying to soothe you while you reach your orgasm.

You start to shake while you feel the knot in your stomach form, “Nevvyy!” You moan out. You try to keep your cool while you feel your orgasm approach. You moan loudly as his fingers speed up, “closee! I’m so close!” His fingers pound into your cunt so hard your tits start to bounce at each motion, your legs start to shake and try to close from the pleasure. His hand on your thigh keeps your leg open, the other trying to close your legs. “Neville! Nev! Nev!” You moan and shake. Suddenly the knot in your stomach unravels and your cunt gushes out on his fingers, a loud moan erupts from your throat and quietly echoes off the stone walls. All your muscles tighten up and your hips lift off the mattress, shaking and clenching around his fingers. Neville watches in amazement as you orgasm, his fingers still fucking into you until you start whimpering for him to stop. “Nev, s-stop..” You whine.

Your soft whines break him out of his trance, “Oh, uhm, sorry…” He nods and slowly pulls his soaked fingers out. He looks down at his fingers in disbelief, he makes an impulsive decision and puts the two fingers in his mouth. Sucking off your cum from his fingers, moaning at the taste.

You watch in shock, “Nev..” You whine. He looks up at you, “C’mere…” He reluctantly pulls his fingers out of his mouth and leans forward. You pull him into a kiss and wrap your arms around his neck, he pulls up your body and hugs your waist, your breasts pressed against his chest. The two of you let out soft moans, his precum leaks onto your stomach reminding you of what's still to come. You pull away from him and brush your fingers through his hair, “still wanna?” You ask softly, still recovering from your previous orgasm.

Neville nods, “absolutely. Are you still good to keep going?”

You nod, “mhm. I should let you know though, I am still a virgin so.. Uhm.. be gentle, y’know?”

Neville’s eyes widen up in shock, he leans up and nods. “Absolutely! I’m sure you already know but, I am too..” He adds shyly.

You grin and lean your upper body up and kiss him softly. “C’mon, Nev, put it in.”

Neville grins shyly, finally grabbing the base of his cock with his other hand on your hip. He aims the tip of his cock at your entrance. Slowly he pushes in past your opening, he lets out a soft gasp at the feeling. He grabs both your hips with both hands. Eventually his hips are against yours, “Oh Merlin.. Feels so, so good.” He whimpers.

You lift your arms and caress his face softly, “good boy, Nev.” You brush your fingers through his hair, “c’mon baby, waited this long to just sit here with your cock in me?” You giggle teasingly. Neville whimpers and starts to move his hips, immediately moaning. You drink in every moan and whimper he lets out, relishing in how vocal he is. “Good boy… that’s it, keep going.” You purr. His head falls into your neck, his body once again flushed against yours. His moans now close to your ear, able to hear every small noise and breath he makes. “Good boy, Nev!” You moan in his ear. You can feel his cock already start to twitch inside of you, not surprising considering only a couple minutes ago he was a virgin. It made you smile with glee remembering your the one breaking him in, training him. “Gonna cum, hm? Gonna cum inside my pussy? Gonna knock me up?” You sweetly moan in his ear.

He whines and moans, giving soft but wet kisses onto your neck. “‘M so close…Jus’ wanna make you finish too..” He whimpers.

You giggle softly, “well, c’mon then. Gotta fuck me harder than that if you wanna make me cum anytime soon.” Neville whines and speeds up his hips, his cock now pounding into that spongey bundle of nerves deep inside you. “That’s it,” you moan out. He lifts one of his hands to your breasts, grabbing one and massaging it. His thumb grazing over your nipple a couple times, you let out a soft moan encouraging him to continue. He lifts his head and puts the perky bud in his mouth, sucking softly on your breast. He lets out soft moans as he sucks on your nipple, “Good- Good boy, Neville!” You moan, “Nevvy, rub my clit, c’mon baby!” He uses the hand on your hip to reach down and rub tight circles onto your clit. “Nev!” You moan out, hips bucking up into his cock. You felt your brain start to get fuzzy, drunk off the pleasure Neville was giving you.

Neville’s hips stuttered, trying so hard to keep himself from cumming. He pulls his off your chest, “cum for me, please. Please cum for me, need to feel you cum.” He begs, need was evident in his voice. He whined and shoved his face between the valley of your boobs. Your nails scratched his back, the other hand in his hair. You moan out, already feeling your orgasm building up.

“Nev Nev Nev! Merlin, Nevvy!” You moan, grabbing harshly onto his hair and pulling on it. “Ohh Merlin! Nevvy, give me more! Please!” Your voice becomes high pitched and needy. You whine and moan, Neville barely catches onto your change in demeanor. As your brain becomes clouded with pleasure and need, you feel yourself slip from the dominant mask. “Nevvyy!” You whine. Neville lifts his head and sees the needy expression you're making.

His hand on your clit speeds up, “o-okay, gonna give you what you need. Okay?” You whimper and nod. He feels slightly confused at the change, his once dominant girlfriend now whining and begging for him. “You're so pretty, honey. Gonna cum soon?” He asks sweetly yet out of breath.

“Nevvy…” You whine, “Pleasee! Please call me a good girl, Nevvy! Am I a good girl?”

Neville gulps and responds, “such a good girl, you’re doing so well. Gonna cum for me, yea? Gonna be a good girl?” He isn't sure where this change into submission came from but, he tried his hardest to think and try to mimic what you’ve said to him in the past. No matter whether you were dominant or submissive, he was going to make you cum again.

You nodded quickly, “wanna be a good girl for you, Nevvy! ‘M gonna cum! Ohh Nevvy I’m gonna cum!” Your moans are full of need, high pitched and whiny. Neville tries his best to hold back until he feels your inner walls flutter and clench around him, your pretty moans definitely didn’t help the situation. Suddenly, you clenched too tightly around him and he couldn't hold back anymore. His hips bucked forwards, deep inside of you and he came. His thick load filled up your pussy making you climax. You moaned out loudly, your nails digging into his back and fingers pulling hard on his hair. “Neevvvv!” You moaned out.

Neville held you close into his arms as you both rode out your orgasms, “Good… Good girl.” He sighed out, kissing your cheek. You whimper as he slowly pulls out, he gives you a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you.” You kiss him softly, your fingers in his hair releasing it a bit and the nails on his back now just the pads of your fingers trying to pull him closer.

As you started to come back down to earth the realization of how you acted sunk in, you nuzzled your head into his neck. “‘M sorry…” You mutter.

“Hm? What for?” Neville asks curiously.

“Tried to stay dominant… This is why I tried to push back on having sex or cumming around you. I know you like to be more submissive, ‘m sorry..” You say quietly.

He laughs softly, “What? You don’t have to do that for me and you don’t have to apologize for feeling good. Uhm, it did feel good right?” He asks.

You giggle, “Yea, thank you baby. Felt really good.” You smile and kiss his neck and up to his face, traveling to his lips. The two of you share a kiss and he lays down next to you. You felt his cum seep out of you and onto the sheets, “needa rest for a second and then we can clean up…” You said with a yawn. He nodded and cuddled up against you, pulling your back into his chest.

“Love you”

“I love you too, Nevvy.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter #smut #x reader #hp x reader #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom #neville longbottom smut #hp fandom #harry potter smut #harry potter fanfiction

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moonyeyedstar · 5 months ago

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Sleepy Sex- Neville Longbottom x f!reader

*smut* *18+* Kinktober Day 26: Neville Longbottom x f!reader- Sleepy Sex

You woke up from the dip in the bed as Neville got up to get ready for work. After finishing school, the two of you moved into an apartment in Hogsmeade together. Neville had just opened his flower shop downstairs and you worked a few shops over, so it was convenient for both of you.

“Don’t go yet, it's too early, and too cold when you leave,” you whined sleepily.

“You know I’ve got to go,” he rubbed your back soothingly. “I will close for an hour for lunch so we can eat together, it’ll go fast baby,” he leaned over and kissed your cheek.

“Can you at least take care of me before you go?” You yawned and rolled over to face him.

“Of course, darling,” he moved to get on top of you. You caressed his bare chest and looked up at him, he looked so sleepy, he must have not woken fully yet.

“You’re so handsome,” you blushed and let your hand slip under his pajama pants to give him a squeeze. He let out a slow groan while his cheeks flushed and he kissed you deeply. You arched your back to press yourself against him and eagerly deepened the kiss.

“Please Nev,” you whined into the kiss as you pumped his fully erect length, he was so damn big.

“Yes, baby,” he quickly rid himself of his bottoms and you of yours before lining up to your entrance. “You’re so wet,” he blushed as he teased you with his tip, grazing it up and down your slit.

“Please, Nev,” you squirmed under his touch. He let out a low chuckle, his morning voice still lingering as he slowly filled you inch by glorious inch. “Oh yes,” you moaned out as your body relaxed while your walls grasped his cock, feeling every vein and twitch within you.

“Fuck, petal, you feel so good,” he moaned groggily and rocked his hips at a steady pace. You moaned and bucked your hips to meet his with each thrust.

“Feels so good, Nev,” you moaned out and caressed his chest and propped yourself up to kiss his neck and shoulders, leaving a few gentle hickeys down his shoulder and scattered on his chest.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned and picked up his pace, “So close.”

“Me too,” you whined, neither of you were ever able to last long in the early morning.

“Oh fuck,” you cried out as Neville gave you his last few lazy fucks.

“Oh, petal,” he moaned and pulled out, spilling himself all over your stomach as he collapsed on top of you. You both panted in each other's arms. “Maybe I can open late today,” Neville yawned and fell back asleep on your chest.

#hp smut #hp fandom #smut #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts student #moonyeyedstar #harry potter #kinktober #sleepy sex #neville longbottom #neville longbotton x reader #smut writing #neville longbottom smut #loving sex #lazy sex #early morning #early morning sex

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fantisyoflove · 11 months ago

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Praise Him

"Neville? Neville, sweetheart, what are you afraid of?"

He leaned back into the chair, legs wide. His hands slid down his thighs and he tossed his head back as he groaned,"I want to be good for you"

You straddle his waist and roll your hips against him creating a delicious friction.

"You are good for me." You whisper as you card your fingers through his hair. You grab a fistful of the hair on the back of his head and use it to tilt his face back to you.

"You are such a good boy, Neville." You purr resting your forehead against his.

His eyes narrow in on you. His hips bucked against you at your words and you smirked.

Neville wrapped his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against him.

"Say it again" he sounded utterly gutted.

You lazily run your fingers through his hair again.

"You want to hear what a good boy you are?" You roll your hips against his. His tongue flicks out across his lips and he nods eagerly.

"You want me to tell you you're a good boy?"

Nevilles head is hanging off the back of the chair now, his eyes closed in pure bliss.

"Look at me." You demand and his head snaps up, eyes on you.

"You are such a good boy, Neville. " His hips bucked again and he... he whimpers.

His voice high, keening for you.

You smile wider and you try to stop your hands from shaking as you undo the buttons of his shirt.

"Such a good boy, Neville. Look at you." You get the last button undone and rest your hands on his bare chest for the first time. His skin is on fire.

His hands shoot up and grasp your wrists. Eyes wide and pupils blown wide. He looks completely debauched and scared.

"Let me take care of you my perfect boy." You coo, "my big. Strong. Man." You emphasize each word as you rest your hands under his shirt and slowly push the fabric away.

"I'm so lucky to have you all to myself." You murmur against his neck as you take your time tasting his skin.

He let out a soft whine and you want to give him everything.

You climb off his lap and he huffs in disappointment. You pull him up and begin undoing his belt.

"Look at you doing such a good job."

He steps out of his bottoms and you toss them aside.

You kiss him, letting his cock brush against the soft skin of your belly. Then you drop to your knees.

He makes a choking gasp.

His cock, thick and long, stands at attention for you. You suck in a breath which makes his cock throb.

His cheeks were flaming red. He couldn't take his eyes off of you.

"Is this all for me?" You purr and gently wrap one hand around his shaft. You hold his eyes as you wrap your lips around the tip.

One swirl of your tongue had his knees buckling. You guide him back to the chair and release him so he can sit back down.

"There you go, baby, just like that." You take him again in your hand and mouth.

You slowly ease into a steady rhythm and he is a moaning mess beneath you.

"Uh. Mhhm. Mphemmm." The sounds pour from his mouth while you suck. Your tongue flicking and rolling over more sensitive spots. When his balls start drawing up sharply you slow down and pull off.

Using your hand you lazily stroke his cock.

"Awe. Is my good boy about to cum?" You bat your eyelashes at him as his head lolls back to face you. Beads of sweat have gathered on his forehead and his chest is rising and falling quickly as he tries to catch his breath.

"That's it Neville. Let me see you fall apart on my tongue."

You take him as deep as you can as you keep sucking. His knuckles are white as he grips onto the sides of the chair. His eyes glued to yours as he gasps and bucks.

The sounds coming from him are sinful. You will hear these moans and whimpers forever. Letting this moment replay in your mind again and again and again. Watching him break down completely at your touch.

You pull off one last time making Neville cry out in frustration.

"Cum for me, Neville? Cum for me my good boy. I want to drink you down."

You don't let him respond as you take his cock again.

He is so vocal and his body sings for you. You know right before it happens and you greedily take his cock deep in your throat.

"Fuck y/n yes yes yesss" he whined one hand gripping the back of your head holding you down on his length.

#fanfic #fandom #harry potter #smut #neville longbottom is amazing #Neville #neville longbottom #neville longbottom smut #neville longbottom x reader #neville x reader

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mastermindmiko · 1 year ago

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Neville Longbottom Mood board

Masterlist Neville Pinterest board

All of these pictures are from Pinterest and are not mine.

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longbottomlove · 1 year ago

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first time || n.l.

warnings: smut!

neville and y/n had been dating for about a year at that point, nothing crazy. they’d shared little kisses and hugs, maybe a tiny make out sesh a couple times. the little bit of tongue, heavy breathing kind that every guy dreamed about having with his crush.

but she wasn’t his crush. she was his girlfriend. he loved her. and she loved him. it was simple like that. they’d never tried anything further than kissing because they didn’t need to.

neville tried to be the respectful gentleman y/n deserved, but a nagging problem was starting to arise.

every time they kissed for longer than three seconds, shared a close hug(the kind that had her boobs pressed against his chest), or even if y/n cracked a dirty joke to pull a laugh out from their friends, he had a boner. it was hard to hide and hard to make it go away. neville was a virgin and had no clue what to do.

and then there were the dreams. dreams about his girlfriend. dreams where she was kissing him, touching him, speaking to him in a hushed whisper, neville we have to be quiet. neville we’re gonna be caught. neville do you want me? neville wake up.

and wake up he would. every morning. sometimes he’d wake up to a tent in his pants. other times it would be a sticky mess he had to clean before starting the day.

worst of all was the guilt. godric, the guilt. thinking all of these foul things about someone who had no part in causing it felt criminal. it made him feel gross and pervy. he knew he had to tell you.

———————-

“uh.. y/n?” he forced out. “i..uh. i have to tell you something,”

this was it. the moment she would dump him. poor little neville who had finally gotten a girlfriend was going to be dumped. his heart was racing, palms clammy and shiny with sweat.

y/n followed him into his dorm, taking a seat on the bed like he gestured her to do. she was confused. so confused. was he gonna dump her, did he cheat?

“so what was it you wanted to tell me?” y/n asked, eyes glued to her feet.

“well,” neville started. “i’ve, i’ve been having these thoughts. and they’re gross and about you. and i dunno, i just had to tell you because ikeephavingdirtydreamsaboutyouandimsorry,”

“what?”

neville looked at the girl in confusion. like she couldn’t have possibly not heard him and he didn’t wanna say it again.

“i keep having dirty dreams about you. and im sorry,” he repeated.

a sharp silence overtook the room. she hated him now. she had to. he had confessed his disgusting thoughts to her. he was done for. would she tell a Professor? Snape or McGonagall maybe? would he be expelled for repulsive behavior? or would he just be laughed at by all her friends?

a painful minute of silence rushed through the room, ended only by a sharp cry of laughter. she was laughing! neville didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing but he soon joined in and began chuckling himself.

“oh my god,” y/n started. “i can’t breathe! i cant, i cant,”

after a good four or five minutes y/n finally looked up from her laughing position and looked at her boyfriend. “that’s normal, nev,” she said.

“what?” neville squeezed out.

“to have dreams like that, it’s normal. i’d be concerned if you didn’t have those dreams,”

neville was very confused to say the least. his thoughts were gross… and here she was saying it’s okay.

“and like,” neville started, “every time we like, kiss and stuff, i get a- erm..”

“a what, love?”

neville vaguely gestured to his crotch, hoping she’d get what he meant.

“ohhhhhh. yeah… that’s normal too i think,”she said. neville was relieved to say the least.

it was nearing dinner time, and y/n had promised to sit with hermione and ginny during the meal. she pecked neville on the cheek and started towards the door. she was almost out when she heard a soft voice call out to her.

“y/n?”

“yeah, baby?”

“could you… maybe stay?”

#harry potter #neville longbottom #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom fluff #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #neville longbottom fic #neville longbottom imagine #writing #neville longbottom smut

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achedtobepretty · 21 days ago

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→ Boyfriend!Neville!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

⋆ Boyfriend!Neville! Neville is the gentlest man you’ve ever known — but he’s not soft. He’s strong-backed, work-callused, and knows exactly how to make a garden grow or a hex collapse. He’s protective in a way that never tries to control — just quietly ensures you’re safe. He walks on the outside of the pavement. He holds your hand when you’re anxious. He makes you feel like nothing could break you with him beside you.

You once got overwhelmed at a family gathering. Too loud. Too much. Neville tugged you out to the garden without a word. Pressed a flower to your lips. “Breathe with me.” You did. And when you kissed him for it, slow and grateful, he kissed you back like it meant everything. Because it did.

⋆ Boyfriend!Neville! He’s a little awkward when he tries to flirt, but you love it. He stumbles over his words, blushes to the tips of his ears, says things like, “That dress is—um—you’re really wearing it well. I mean. You look…” And then just kisses your cheek and runs away.

Once, he tried to flirt by asking if you wanted to ‘see his greenhouse.’You said, “Nev, is that code? He flushed. Hard. Later, in the greenhouse, he locked the door behind you. “...It is now.” You didn’t make it to the ferns.

⋆ Boyfriend!Neville! Neville loves giving. Whether it’s time, food, affection — he’s always offering something. Carries extra layers in case you’re cold. Keeps your favorite tea in stock. Once lent his wand to a stranger without hesitation. He’s love in action.

⋆ Boyfriend!Neville! He memorized your cycle without you even asking. Always has hot water bottles, sweets, and your favorite jumper ready. The first time you cried in front of him, he just opened his arms. Didn’t speak. Just held. Later that night, he kissed the side of your knee and said, “You never have to hide anything from me.” You knew then: he’s it.

⋆ Boyfriend!Neville! He has zero chill about you. Still gets flustered. Still stares. Tells strangers about you without realizing. Writes your name in the dirt with his finger while he works.

You caught him doodling your initials inside a heart during a meeting. You teased him. He shrugged, grinning. “You’re always in my head. Might as well make it official.” Later that night, he said your name like a prayer when he came. And you think that was the first time you cried during sex. It was that real.

⋆ Boyfriend!Neville! He’s surprisingly dominant in bed — but only when you need him to be. Because he knows your body better than anyone. Knows when you need soft and slow, and when you need to be wrecked. Still blushes when you undress. Still looks like he can’t believe you’re his.

He once pulled you back into bed after you tried to leave for work. Murmured, “Five more minutes. Want to feel you again.” He kissed the inside of your thigh. Said your name like it hurt. And didn’t stop until you were shaking.

⋆ Boyfriend!Neville! He thrives on physical affection. Constantly touching — hand on your back, arm around your waist, fingers trailing your wrist. Kisses your temple like a habit. Stares at you like you hung the bloody moon.

You fell asleep reading on the couch once — woke up with his head in your lap and your fingers in his hair. He blinked up at you and said, “I dreamt about you. You were laughing.” And he kissed your stomach through your shirt like it was sacred. Like you were already carrying his future.

⋆ Boyfriend!Neville! Neville loves you in his clothes. He won’t say it. But he goes quiet. Eyes a little darker. Touches you more.

You stole one of his old jumpers and wore it with nothing else around the flat. He stopped mid-step, stared, and whispered, “You’re going to be the death of me.” Later, he fucked you against the kitchen counter with the sleeves bunched in his fists. You’ve worn it once a week ever since.

⋆ Boyfriend!Neville! He talks about the future like it’s fact. You, him, a little house near the edge of the forest. Two dogs. A greenhouse for him. A library for you. He already has a favorite name for your hypothetical daughter. Won’t tell you yet. Says it’s bad luck.

You once joked about him being “husband material.” He got serious. Held your face in both hands and said, “If you asked me tomorrow, I’d say yes.” And he meant it.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

#aesthetic #girlblogging #harry potter #gryffindor #golden trio era #neville longbottom smut #neville longbotton x reader #neville longbottom

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yasministration · 3 days ago

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palmistry - neville longbottom

summary: when you begin learning advanced palm reading with professor trelawney, you don't only uncover new truths about you, but those around you — particularly one boy you have your eyes on. wc: 3.3k+ cw: half the stuff about palm reading is based on wikihow and the rest is made up.

For the first time in a long while, the common room was practically empty. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, meaning most of your classmates and peers were out of the castle and roaming the village nearby, but you and your friends had decided to stay in for the day and catch up on some homework. Your divinations textbook laid open in your lap, one of your hands holding Neville’s, eyes flickering between his open palm and the textbook in front of you.

You hummed, tracing the four major lines on his hand. "The heart line, the headline, the lifeline and the fate line." You spoke aloud, "I’m just going to do your right hand, which shows what you’ve gotten from life."

Lavender and Seamus watched you from where they sat on the couch facing you — Lavender learning from your words so she could improve her understanding (it’s a part of her revision, she said), but Seamus was rather interested in the way you held Neville, cradling his hand gently in yours, your finger tracing each line.

"Your heart line is long, and ends below your index finger, which shows that you’re content with your love life, but it’s also broken up, signifying emotional trauma. The head line shows everything about your approach with knowledge and learning. Your line is curved, meaning you prefer creativity and spontaneity rather than practicality and conventional learning approaches. It’s curved downwards, which means you are creative, but is also separated from the life line, which shows that you have enthusiasm for life and learning."

You traced your nail along Neville’s life line, just above his thumb and crossing towards the edge of his palm. He shivered at the drag of your nail, fist closing in reflex, but you softly eased it open again. "Your life line shows that you’re cautious, particularly regarding relationships, but it’s also kind of curved?" You hummed, deep in thought as you scanned the open page of your divination textbook. "I should have paid more attention in class." You mumbled, and Neville chuckled softly, bringing a hand up to brush from hair away from your eyes.

Seamus bumped Lavender’s shoulder, but she only bumped is shoulder in return, unaware of what he was pointing out to her — an oddly comfortable display of affection between you and Neville. One he wouldn’t necessarily call platonic.

"The curve means you have plenty of energy, I guess. Anyway-" Cutting yourself off by bringing Neville’s hand closer to your face, you moved his hand from side to side, taking in the depth and pattern of his fate line in the dim light of the common room. "Your fate line starts up joined to your life line, which says that you’ve developed your aspirations from a young age, but it breaks apart and sort of changes direction up here. This means…" You let go of Neville’s hands, flipping over to a new page in the text book before going back to the previous page. "You’ll have many changes in life due to universal forces. Could be good or bad."

Neville placed his hand in his lap, but you were quick to tug it back towards you with both hands, telling him "I’m not done. You have earth hands, which makes sense for the herbology expert. You have solid values, you’re responsible and work with your hands. You have a low mercury and jupiter mount — under your pinkie and index fingers. These mean that you probably lack confidence and are quite shy, but you have a high sun mount under your ring finger, which means you have high imagination. Now for the hand size…" You brought Neville’s hand up, examining it before reading through the textbook again. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, unsure what to make of the writing in your book.

"Do me next!" Seamus said, raising his hand high up in the air, elbowing Lavender with his free arm. You glanced at the Irish boy, then Neville, who smiled and nodded towards Seamus with a playful roll of his eyes. "Go ahead." You laughed quietly, bringing a hand down to Neville’s knee and squeezing softly before gathering your textbook and rounding the table to slump down on the rug in front of Seamus. You placed the textbook on your crossed legs and looked up at Seamus’s extended hand. Lavender glanced at Seamus with furrowed eyebrows, understanding that he wanted to tell her something, but not knowing what.

"Alright," You began observing Seamus’s hands, fingers playing with the corners of your textbook pages as you took in the deep lines on his palm. "Your heart line is kind of-"

"You’re not going to hold my hand and trace all my lines?" You straightened your shoulders up, taken aback by Seamus’s question. Your friend had a smirk on his face as he continued "Or is it only Neville who gets the special treatment?" You licked over your lips, feeling your cheeks go hot at Seamus’s words. But instead of showing him how flustered you were, you curled your fingers around his wrist and tugged his hand forward, causing his entire torso to jerk down towards you at the harshness of your tug. "I’ll hold your hand if you want me to, you wuss."

The heart line was different for each and every person.

Though the basics of divination only showed up to eight variations and meanings for them, there was always more meaning to it. It was in third year that you’d initially learned to read palms, but Professor Trelawney had told you all to revisit the topic before Monday’s lesson, where you’d learn the real magic behind the markings in your skin. As you listened to Professor Trelawney discuss the minor, less noticeable lines, you scribbled down some notes, occasionally glancing at your own palm in an attempt to read it.

But of course, no one was as good as the master herself. After the note taking was done, Professor Trelawney advised everyone to have a go at reading their partner’s palm. Lavender snatched your hand from across the table, eager to reveal whatever was engraved in your skin. "Godric, why is your palm so line-y?" Asked Lavender, already regretting her decision to go first. She hummed absentmindedly, glancing down at the notes then back at your hand, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. Even after a good five minutes of pure staring, she had no idea where to start. "Uh, let me try reading your love languages. Give me your other hand."

You obeyed Lavender’s command, but not without laughing at her first. You glanced around the room, watching the other pairs clearly already discussing their findings. "Time is ticking, Lav."

"Oh please, it’s not my fault you have such a complicated reading." Lavender’s annoyed words were timed perfectly — much to your dismay — for Professor Trelawney to hear as she was passing by your table. The woman immediately glanced over Lavender’s shoulder to take a look at your hand, eyes lighting up as she began reading the lines in them. She summoned a cushioned seat next to Lavender’s chair, and you already knew you were in for some humiliation, because once Professor Trelawney started talking, everyone immediately tuned in.

"Very interesting reading, indeed." You bounced your knee under the table, watching as Trelawney guided your hands away from Lavender. Unlike your friend, Professor Trelawney didn’t need to follow any notes as she took in the map of your palms, nodding her head in interest. "Your two hands show very different things. Who can tell me the difference between the right and left hand?" Hands shot up in the air at the Professor’s question, and she nodded towards a couple of Slytherins in the back of the room. "Ms. Parkinson."

"In palmistry, a woman’s right hand shows what they were born with, but the left shows everything they have developed over time. For men, it’s the opposite for each hand."

"Good. The lines under Ms. L/n’s heart line on her right hand indicate that she was born to show love and affection through words of affirmation, but the left shows that she has developed an inclination towards physical touch, and partly acts of service. While her right hand has a short heart line — which indicates what, Ms. Abbott? —"

"It indicates that there’s little interest in romantic involvements."

" — Her left hand’s heart line begins right in the middle of her hand. It’s quite short."

Lavender didn’t wait for Professor Trelawney to ask anyone what it meant, leaning forward with a wide grin on her face. "She falls in love easily."

"Not necessarily falls, Mr. Brown, but it does mean that she has fallen for someone very easily. Someone who has changed the paths of the lines on her hand." You gulped thickly, painfully aware of all the eyes glued to you. "There’s a boy who yearns. We can see next to your fate line that your paths are crossed with his. It is likely that his means of life have changed alongside yours. Whatever you feel for this boy, Ms. L/n, it is reciprocated. The fate line is connected to the lines below your heart line, which shows that your love life is in good hands."

Professor Trelawney stood up swiftly, crossing the room as though she hadn’t just exposed your entire love life to the class. Lavender kicked you under the table and you shrugged, blatantly ignoring her as she mouthed Neville’s name and turning back to listen to Professor Trelawney’s next words.

"Ms. Parkinson, perhaps your lines would look more like your classmate’s if you had better taste in men."

"Professor, it’s the fate line that keeps leading me to these men, I just can’t help it."

Physical affection.

Something so small and yet something that changed your life forever.

It was never present in your blood, or in your childhood environment. You were conditioned to only believe your worth when it was stated aloud. "Good job." And "I’m proud of you." were words you heard constantly. And so when your parents looked at you with a disappointed glint in their eyes, refusing to say anything to you, you knew you hadn’t done well. So when you grew up, made friends in school and went to Hogwarts, you told your friends the things you loved about them and gave them whole-hearted advice on anything you could help with.

But then you met him.

Shy, too nervous to show people his real self. But kind, and most importantly, your best friend. Neville grew up almost completely oppositely to you. His grandma scolded him and was strict enough to scare people away, but then she hugged him and Neville knew everything was okay. She pressed aggressive kisses to his cheek, leaving him with bold lipstick prints that he desperately tried wiping away. But those small touches made him feel loved, and when you finally got close enough for him to open up, reassuring him with your caring words, Neville began showing you affection in a way of his own. Hooking your pinkie with his when walking down the halls, or holding your hand in his when he noticed your mood was down, and wrapping an arm around your shoulders in the cold common room, ensuring that you were safe with him.

It was a way that you quickly adapted into becoming yours too, but only with him.

Only for him.

"It’s so cold!" You whined, snaking two hands around Neville’s arm, snuggling into his body warmth. You looked at the group of friends around the bonfire — none of whom were wearing any extra layers over their short sleeved shirts. The summer solstice had just passed, and with that, all and any jumpers your friends owned had suddenly disappeared, but your low tolerance for the cold hadn’t. Neville chuckled, extending an arm out in invitation for a hug. "I have warmth, come on." You grinned widely, moving from Neville’s side to cuddle into his chest, wrapping your arms around his body. He caressed your back soothingly, resting his cheek on the side of your head.

You had a perfect view of Lavender, Seamus and Dean huddled together in discussion, Hermione, Ron and Harry only casually listening in on their conversation, not too in tune with the drama of your friend group. But from the thrilled look on Lavender’s face, gaze rapidly flitting back and forth between you and the boys, you knew she was vividly recalling the events that had occurred in divinations class.

It wasn’t difficult to know about your feelings for Neville, who showed more care for you than anyone ever had, but you didn’t need the news to be announced to the friend group, especially after they had all been so suspicious of you in the first place.

You’re not going to hold my hand and trace all my lines? Or is it only Neville who gets the special treatment?

You melted into Neville’s chest as he brought a hand up to the back of your head, cradling you softly. "You alright?" He muttered, and you nodded into his soft polo. Now you had to stay glued to Neville all night, because the second you would join your friends, the teasing would begin. But unfortunately for you, Seamus called your name loudly, and you huffed, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "Come here for a sec!"

"Give me a minute to warm up!"

"Oh, you can leave the man for two seconds!"

Neville chuckled as you begrudgingly pulled away from him, trudging over to the group and sitting down next to Lavender on a log. "Let me guess, Lavender couldn’t keep her mouth shut."

"Don’t blame me, blame Trelawney."

Dean leaned towards you, elbows placed on his knees. "So, your love life’s in good hands, huh?" You scrunched your face up in disgust at Dean’s words, turning back to glance at Neville, who had begun making his way over to you. "None of you say a word." You warned in an angry whisper as Neville approached you. He stopped right behind you, bringing his hands down to your shoulders. Seamus grinned widely at the sight of his friend, and you knew from that instant; you were fucked.

Not everyone has a fate line.

It is believed in palmistry that those who have no fate line are guided by their own free will. Your fate line was faint, meaning your path of life was led by both by fate and personal decisions, and in this moment, you knew it was your personal decision of taking Divinations as a N.E.W.T subject that would lead to Neville’s inevitable discovery of your feelings for him.

"Am I allowed here, or is there some top secret conversation going on?"

You patted the spot on the log next to you, and Neville squatted down until he could sit on the log, extending his long legs in front of him. "Heya Neville, the girls were just telling us about the new palm reading they were doing in divination," Started Seamus, "And you know, since we basically have a palm reading expert here, I was gonna ask for a palm reading."

"I don’t really remember anything from today," You cut in with a shrug of your shoulders. "I’ll have to go over it before I can give you a proper reading."

Whatever Seamus’s plan was, you wanted to avoid it at all costs. But just like any prophecies, by trying to avoid destiny, you’ve only accomplished it. Lavender snatched one of your hands, placing it in her lap. "I will be taking that palm reading expert title, thank you Seamus." You tried closing your hand into a fist, but Lavender was quicker, pressing her second hand above yours so you couldn’t close it. "What was it Trelawney said? You have a short heart line, so you fall in love quickly. Or was it, she said you fell in love quickly?"

You yanked your hand away from Lavender, but she secured her grip around your wrist, pulling it towards her again. "Lav." You begged, tilting your head to the side. Your best friend took mercy, letting go of your hand and shrugging with mock disinterest. "Yeah, I don’t remember much. Something about fates intertwined and a good love life." She sighed deeply. "Wish I could relate to that."

If there were such thing as an anger line, you were sure you’d have it. You refused to speak to Seamus, Lavender and Dean for the rest of the night, even as they attempted to bring you back into the conversation. In fact, the only reason you were still with them at all was because of the causal arm Neville had around your shoulders. When Dean suggested going on a walk and was pursued by Seamus and Lavender, you stayed put. And Neville, closely watching you to see what you would do, stayed right there with you. “What’s wrong? I don’t understand what they’ve done but I know there’s something.”

“It’s fine. They had good intentions.” Neville nodded, shuffling along the log to make some space between you. “So, do you actually not remember about the palm reading, or were you just saying stuff?”

“I don’t know, I’d have to try first.” Neville wordlessly offered you his hand, smiling softly. You traced his palm, asking “Is this your left?” Neville nodded, and you shook your head, reaching for this right hand. “Wanna read the right one. Actually, keep both. I’m gonna read your love languages.” You replayed Professor Trelawney’s lecture in your mind, running your thumb over the shirt lines at the base of his palm. Left and right, physical touch could be found in a crease on his hand, but there was something else too. “Words of affection. I didn’t know you liked that.”

“It makes sense. You always express your affection in words. I’ve grown to like it.” You felt your cheeks heat up at Neville’s words, and you cleared your throat as you traced his fate line. Just like yours, it was connected to his minor heart lines. You opened up one of your hands, holding it palm-up to compare them. Nearly identical.

“What are you looking at now?”

“I don’t know. I think-godric, I think divinations is a load of bullshit.” Neville laughed loudly, shaking his head. “No, you love divination.”

“Yeah, I just- It’s difficult to believe something that’s not tangible.”

“Well tell me anyway. The thing you’re finding hard to believe.”

Shrugging, you carefully held Neville’s hand in both of yours, thumbs caressing the soft skin of his palm. “Professor Trelawney read my palm. She said there was a boy who,” Your voice trembled, and you focused your gaze on Neville’s hand, watching his fate line. “A boy who yearns, and his paths cross with mine in our fate lines. She said my love life is in good hands. And I, I just can’t stop thinking about you.”

A hand touched your chin, pushing your face up so Neville could take a good look at you. He smiled at you, searching your eyes. “And you think it’s too good to be true?” You nodded wordlessly, and Neville brought his arms around you, tugging you into his chest in a comforting hug. “It’s only too good to be true if you let it be.”

You brought both hands to Neville’s chest, pushing him away from you gently. “What does that mean?”

“It means, it means we don’t have to make things complicated. If what you’re saying is you like me, I like you too. And I have liked you. For ages. So don’t let it be too good to be true.”

“I don’t really know what to say to that, Nev. I’m just- I don't" You shuffled closer to Neville again, placing your hands on his chest. He smiled as you leaned in closer to him, dipping his head down slightly to meet your lips in a soft kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hands trailing upwards to rest on his shoulders as Neville’s arms rested around your waist.

Sometimes fate wasn’t always a good thing, but as you locked lips with Neville, finally pouring your feelings into a kiss, you thanked whatever power led your friends to taking that walk.

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