#hp reader insert

[crescenthistory]

May I request C6 with Regulus? I’m in some desperate need of Reggie comforting reader 😭😭😭

there are sosososo many different ways to interpret this prompt, and somehow i chose? perhaps the darkest one? so sorry, you are really going to need that comforting now... thanks for requesting lmao xx

Prompt: C.6 "I don't know, it just happened"

Words: 5.5k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, blood racism, internalised blood racism, hate crime/minor assault, emotional breakdown, mutual self-hatred, regulus has not left the black family, alluded black brothers drama, undecided side regulus, perhaps a bit cliche/romanticising, established relationship, your dad is dead (long ago, mentioned), heavy hurt/comfort, happy ending

Notes: lol i am not okay

It was a rare occurrence that Regulus Black felt light these days, in any meaning of the word. 

His feet felt shackled as he trekked through the Hogwarts halls he felt were increasingly unwelcoming to him. His consciousness weighed him down like a thousand bricks as he knew he had to either take a stance against his parents or become complacent in a hope of survival. He knew he had to do the former; he had no idea how to stop himself from the latter. Trapped, cornered, cowardly – heavy.

Yet, when walking the final few metres to your dormitory that he knew housed your soft self now that you were done with tutoring first years, he felt undeservingly light. A sensation only you could inspire in him these days.

While conversations were growing tenser and tenser between you the more Regulus struggled with freeing himself from his family, your love for him had yet to falter. He knew he was only biding his time, but until then he could not help revelling in it, albeit guilt ridden. 

He does not knock before entering, just carefully pushes the ajar door further open. You had told him off for knocking so primly every time – “you’re always welcome here, Reggie” – and he wanted nothing more than to please you.

“Amour?” he called out as he closed the door softly behind him, looking around the dorm for a trace of you, or at least one of your dorm mates.

None to be found.

He dropped his bookbag by the end of your bed, reaching up to scratch the back of his head as he looked around. Some of that heaviness began returning to his limbs at your absence, his hope of slipping away from the world with you for the next few hours dissolving.

Then, he heard the water running from the adjunct bathroom. A sigh of relief escaped him, though his body remained tense, and he made his way over. He could hear the water splashing from the sink and he carefully knocked on the door with one knuckle.

“Amour?” he tried again.

This time he technically got a response of sorts, though nowhere near the one he had been hoping for. All movement behind the door stilled. The water was still running in a steady stream, but whatever you had been doing with it, you had stopped. Regulus could almost picture you standing like a deer in headlights – his brows furrowed unhappily at the thought.

“Are you alright, love?” 

Finally, your voice answered, but the fragility of it rattled him. “Oh, um, hi Reggie, I– I’m alright, be with you in a minute, yeah?”

You seemed distressed. Regulus did not care for it at all.

“Could I come in, amour?” He spoke to the door as if it was not there, as if he was looking you in the eyes, willing you to let him in.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you murmured, but he just barely caught it through the wood.

Regulus seemed to have met a divulge where he had to make a choice – a relatively minor one, but it felt important nonetheless.

A large, painful part of his mind was screaming at him to leave you alone. She doesn’t want you, she’s finally seen you for what you are. Scum staining the story of her life. It is this voice that rules most of his actions, the voice keeping him and Sirius apart, the voice tying him to something he does not feel comfortable with. 

Then there is another, burning hot part that aches to reach for you. The part that knows you better than the first thinks he deserves, the part that can tell by the tone of your voice, by a jerk of your finger, exactly how you are feeling and, hopefully, what you need. This part is one Regulus takes a great deal of pride in, this part feels good. Though it scares him and the first part tries to quell it, he holds it near his heart.

And it is this part that opens his mouth and says, “Could I come in anyway?”

A minute. A hesitation. A sigh.

“Yes,” you whispered.

His hand is tentative as it grips the doorhandle to the bathroom, as if it has become a part of your body from him talking to it, deserving of that same care he attempts to show you. He twists it and pushes it open.

The bathroom is swept in darkness – a conscious choice on your part, seeing as you would have to magically blow out the candles that lined the walls. He could still see you, leaning against the counter with the sink, face turned slightly away from him.

“Hi, my love,” you greeted, trying to seem casual as if he had just walked into your dorm under usual circumstances. With your hand awkwardly angled so that he only saw the inside of your palm, you adjusted the faucet. “How was practise?”

Regulus ignored your small-talk, walking up to stand beside you, body angled fully towards you as you began scrubbing at your hands once more. With the light trickling in through the open door, he swore the water looked pinkish. His breath hitched, eyes flickering all over you and the room to make sense of whatever was happening.

“Amour, what’s wrong?” His voice was rawer than he was comfortable with.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” You were getting a hang of the bright and airy tone of voice you were going for, but it was too late for that. “Just a long day, you know? Do you want to go get the bed ready so we can relax?”

The voices were warring in Regulus’ head at the rejection of his presence, but once more the part he could only describe as lovesick took a step closer to you, so your bodies were just barely touching. “Y/N,” was all he said.

Your ministrations grew more desperate, scrubbing water up and down your hands and forearms, breath laboured. He lifted a hand to brush against your face – when you flinched, his heart broke. 

She’s scared of you.

No, she’s just scared.

He let his hand ever so slowly land on the cheek furthest away from him, cradling your jaw with the kind of light touch reserved for baby birds and broken children. He found the skin there soft and wet, and he swore he could cut himself on the shards of his broken heart.

He guided your head to turn towards him, his grip loose so that you could stop him if you wanted. Once your face was opposite his, Regulus fought every instinct in his body that told him to study you, search your face for the spawn of your pain. Instead, he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against yours. Giving you space, privacy even, giving you the moment you clearly needed – but sparing you from doing it alone

Your hands slowed down in their scrubbing, and with his free hand reaching out blindly, he turned off the faucet. Your breath stuttered where it spilled over his lips.

“Do you reckon you want to sit down? Talk about it?” Regulus whispered, eyes still closed.

He felt you nod against his skin, grabbing a hand towel as you walked backwards the few steps needed before you could sit down on the toilet lid. Regulus followed you, eyes opening and attempting to adjust to this darker corner of the bathroom. He sat down on his knees between your legs, painful tiles be damned, and looked up at you intently. 

In front of him sat the light of his life, visibly sullied. Your face was red and he could make out the tear tracks and smudged mascara underneath your eyes. You clutched the towel, hands buried within it and out of sight.

“Amour,” he whispered dumbly, unsure of what else to say, as he carefully brought his hands up to wipe at your tears. 

You mumbled his name and it almost sounded like a sob. 

Your hands were writhing in your lap around the towel, and he reached down to take it and help you dry yourself when you jerked your hands closer to you, towel still in grasp. “No,” you whispered.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you lied through your teeth. “I’ve just had a bad day and– and felt anxious. Couldn't help but cry over it. I don’t know, it just happened.” 

Regulus gave you a sad smile, squeezing the still-wet skin on your forearms. “Uh-huh. And you felt like taking it out on your hands?”

A sob finally tore through your body properly and you brought your hands up – still in the towel – to cover your face. You leaned forward and cried into it, and Regulus immediately opened his arms to hold your shaking frame. Your towel and face were smushed into the crook of his neck and he drew big circles on your back with one hand, the other securely holding the back of your head. 

He was broken, at a loss for words, trying to recall any and every memory he could find of witnessing others comforting, not trusting his own instincts. Through them all, out flashed a memory of Sirius humming to him when he had nightmares as a child, how the vibrations soothed through him until he could finally fall asleep again, in his big brother’s bed this time. Without any distinct melody or song in mind, Regulus began to hum as he swayed you just ever so slightly back and forth, hoping to bring you some semblance of safety.

Your gasps lessened until the bathroom was near-quiet again, but he did not stop his movements with you or the humming. Your heart blossomed from his efforts and broke at what you knew was to come.

You lowered your hands from your face, letting them fall into your lap with their towel. Your face was now in direct contact with the soft skin of his neck and you took the opportunity to press a soft kiss there.

“Can I please do something to help you?” he whispered into your hair.

“You are.”

He breathed in slowly. He is. “With your hands, I mean. Are you hurt?”

Tears slipped quietly down the expanse of Regulus’ neck, trailing down underneath his shirt. You tried to nuzzle deeper into him.

“I–” you stop, seemingly changing your mind. “I’m alright, I just need to… to remove magical ink from them and I can’t get it off.”

Regulus fought back the that’s all? that was creeping up his throat. He knows at least two spells that work for most permanent inks and can brew a potion for it within the hour if those don't work. 

Your head squeezed against his shoulder as he nodded his head, still stroking your back. “No problem, beautiful, I can fix that.”

“No,” you whispered once more, seeming to shrink in his grasp. “I have to.”

He helped ease you out from his neck so that you were face to face once more, his hands coming up to brush over the sides of your arms. The look in your eyes was one he struggled to decipher, apart from the shine of anxiety. 

“Why do you have to? Let me help you, amour.”

You took another shuddering breath, brazing yourself for impact. “You can’t see,” you whispered finally, fighting the quiver of your lips.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“You can’t see them, Reg, I’m sorry.”

“Did someone do something to you?” It was the only explanation he could conjure up for why any permanent ink would make you this distraught – and why you would hide from him like this.

You searched his face carefully, faintly nodding in a way that made him think it was a response to your own thoughts and not his question. Like you decided on something. 

“Someone wrote something. I just want it gone.”

Regulus’ stomach churned. He regretted the harsh tone of his voice as he demanded, “Who?”

“It’s not important.” 

“It is to me. Please. Who?”

You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, gnawing at it as you realised he would find out. Someone would tell him, even if you refused to show him. He would know. You tasted blood in your mouth.

With his eyes adjusted to the dark, Regulus saw the faint red on your lips as well and immediately reached out to gently pull your lip free from its torment. His fingertips lingered on your lips until he replaced them with his own with a short, tentative kiss. If you were to have blood in your mouth, he would too.

Lips still against yours he whispered again, more pleadingly this time, “Who?”

You let your walls crumble. This sweet, caring boy was in your grasp for now and you could not help but let him care while he still wanted to. “Mulciber,” you whispered back.

Regulus pulled back enough to meet your gaze, confusion filling his. “Why Mulciber? What would he have to write on you?” 

Up until now he had half-thought that some of your first year tutees had pranked you in some ungraceful manner. He was certain he had never seen you and Mulciber even talk before, let alone have an altercation that could involve magical ink. He was one of the more brutal Slytherins, but he had never had any reason to talk to you, and he knew that you were someone Regulus cared for. What he had hoped would let him in on your pain only confused him further away from any answer.

“Regulus, please,” you begged, ignorant to his confusion. Tears were once more filling your eyes and he wished for nothing but to stop them.

“Okay, okay,” he whispered, hoping to convince your tears to stay where they are. “You– you don’t have to explain it, love. I can just remove it for you.”

“Could you teach me instead?” Your lip was back between your teeth, lightening in colour underneath the force it was exerted to.

“I’m afraid you wouldn’t be able to remove something from your hands yourself, you need them for the spell.” Regulus hoped his gaze seemed sympathetic.

You squeezed your eyes shut, moving your head slightly to your side. Regulus recognised your breathing pattern to follow a technique you had taught him to calm down the first time he had a panic attack around you. Afterwards, you didn't mention it, only giving him space to talk about what he was comfortable with, comfort at the ready.

His own breath was bated as he watched you make your decision. A definite tear slid down the cheek closest to him, in a hauntingly cinematic manner. At last, your eyes slowly fluttered open and you looked back into his eyes with the most devastating expression. Slipping a hand slowly out from your towel – out of Regulus’ line of sight – you brought it up to his cheek to bring his face closer to yours.

The kiss was searing, filled with a love and devotion he was not prepared for in a situation like this. He was enveloped by the smell of you, and though you still tasted of copper, your lips were painfully soft and he let himself fall deeper into you. When you pulled away, you pressed a lingering kiss to the side of his mouth.

“I love you,” you whispered. Regulus hated how it sounded like you were saying goodbye. 

His brows were furrowed as he looked at you, and he hoped it looked like confusion and nothing more sinister. “I love you too, amour. You know.”

“I’ll let you remove it, if you want.”

“Please.”

Your gaze fell to your lap and remained there as you let both hands out of the towel, placing them palm-down on your thighs. Regulus had begun reaching for his wand in a holster on his belt, ready to rid you of the source of your discontent, but he was frozen still when his own eyes finally took in your hands and the two bold, dark words written on each one.

MUD on the left. BLOOD on the right.

Mudblood. 

Regulus’ blood had run cold in his veins and he found himself having to adopt your breathing technique. His vision blurred as the two words seemed to grow larger, which seemed impossible considering they were written to take up as much space as possible. The handwriting was shaky, as if there had been a struggle when they were written. There were some light bruises already forming around your wrists and upper arms that further proved his fear. Mudblood. With red streaks over both works, likely from how hard you had been trying to wash them, all but scraping them off. Mudblood. The word was choking him. His hand that had remained still midair by his belt began to tremble.

He was knocked out of his trance as he saw a single tear splatter across the lettering on your right hand. 

Regulus moved his gaze back up to yours to find it was still trained on your hands, eyes glossy and unseeing.

“I–” he tried, but his voice broke off. “I don't understand. Y/N, I don’t understand.”

You seemed to flinch a little at the sound of your name, but other than that you made no sign that you heard him.

“Amour,” he rectified. “Why would… what is this?”

You moved your right hand over your left, starting to scratch at the word scribbled there, nails digging deep. Regulus’ hands flew up to stop your ministrations at the sight of the worsening redness, but your whole body physically flinched away from him in a way he was sure must hurt.

Regulus was lost.

“I don’t understand. Why would Mulciber write that? You’re not a–” He cut himself off, scared of what word would slip off his tongue. “You’re not muggleborn.”

Finally, you looked up and met his eyes. Your fearful, heartbroken expression seemed to soften at the sight of him and you gave him the saddest smile that did not reach your eyes. “I’m sorry,” was all you could whisper.

Realisation dawned on him. 

“Your father…?” 

His half-blood best friend turned lover, who he already had not dared tell his parents about, living with her muggle mother after her wizard father passed away. It was a convenient story in times of tension and division. Death is an easy excuse, hard to verify.

Although, clearly, someone had now, and the truth had come out.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered once more through a sob. Your shoulders were hunched and knees drawn close to your body. You looked like you wanted to disappear. 

It took him a greater amount of strength than he was proud of to push the shock and confusion from the forefront of his mind and pull back up the memories of how to comfort. To focus on those and not the million of questions running through his head.

What does this mean? Why didn't you tell him? Have you been hiding from everyone, or just him? How have you been carrying something so scary and he was none the wiser? Is there an award for shittest boyfriend at Hogwarts that he can be looking forward to?

Regulus reached out for you and pulled you slowly into another hug, arms circling securely around your back. Your body stilled in his grasp, apart from the small heaves for air in between your sobs.

“What are you doing?” Your whisper was muffled into his shirt. Your frail voice and tense limbs cut him deeper than any spell could.

“I'm comforting you, sweet girl,” he mumbled into your hair. “Or at least trying to.”

“Why?” you asked miserably. 

Regulus pulled back just far enough to see your face, making sure his arms were still holding you with love, drawing patterns across your back.

"Because I love you," he whispered intently. His eyes tried his hardest to lock on yours, but you still would not meet his gaze. "Because there is nothing to be sorry for."

Your expression grew incredulous, bordering on angry – if it was with him, yourself or the world he was uncertain. "I've lied to you. I've deceived you into a relationship you wouldn’t have agreed to had you known, I– I’ve put you in an impossible position–” You had to cut yourself off as another sob tore through your body. “I’m so sorry.”

Regulus shuffled impossibly closer to you and brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, thumbs stroking slowly across your cheekbones. He felt his own eyes fill with tears at the sight in front of him, anxiety rising at his chest as he struggled to find the words he knew the situation called for.

This was all unknown territory for Regulus. The two of you had had as few conversations about blood status as possible, both weary about the growing tension at school and in the wider wizarding society. You had held him the one time he dared cry in front of you over a particularly harsh letter from his mother. You had whispered sweet nothings about you're not them and I will always love you, but he thought they were just that – nothings. In turn, you had mentioned your parents and cried over your father a handful of times, but never divulged too much. He had weaved his way through comments from other pureblood students at school regarding his relationship with a half-blood, but most pureblood families have lapses with a half-blood here or there that he could usually throw back in their faces to silence them. No one dared push it further than that. When Andromeda left the family for Ted, he almost had to confront it all, confront what he now knew to be lies that had been spewed to him all his life, but even then, he managed to avoid it as he instead received the beating of his life for not alerting the family about the signs he must have seen at school. He let himself simmer with that pain instead of looking inwards, instead of seeking help. He figured he didn’t have to, not just yet.

That time had evidently passed, as he now held a sobbing and defiled sun in his hands.

No, this was uncharted territory for him entirely – but he could not afford to let it stay like that.

“My love, Y/N,” he said with a surprisingly steady voice, never letting his gaze stray from you. “Please, please listen to me. Please hear me. You are everything; it is you, you are everything. You could be muggleborn, muggle, werewolf, siren or fae. It would not change anything.”

Your eyes met his, red rimmed and glossy, confused and bewildered. This time it was your turn to whisper, “I don’t understand.”

“It is difficult–” Regulus’ voice broke as the first few tears slipped down his face. “It is all so difficult right now, I feel lost and… scared and I don’t know what to do.” The words almost clogged in his throat, like barbed wire to admit, but he knew he had to. “I should have told you all of that already, I should have shared with you so you could feel safe to share with me. I haven’t known what to do, how to do it. The one thing I do know is that I love you and I need you to be safe and I need you to be here with me. I have not been deceived, for I would always choose you.”

Your eyes were wide, but you were not crying at the moment, gaze flitting all across his face, as if to ensure he wasn’t lying, hanging onto his every word. It was the motivation he needed to continue.

“You are not allowed to be sorry, amour, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” A small sob escaped him and his heart flipped when your right hand came forth to just barely touch his shoulder. “I should have been here for you, you shouldn’t have to hide. You should never have had to question my love for you, my loyalty. It will always lay with you, I swear it. Gods–” a heaved breath “– I’m terrible at this, you know I’m terrible, but I’ve been trying so hard for you and I will continue to. Just please let me. Let me and I will try.”

“Regulus…” you whispered, hand creeping from the brush against his shoulder to settle on the side of his neck. 

He looked at you, ready to take any reaction you would give him, to tell him off for his horrible apology, for making things about him, for not being enough. Your mouth opened and closed as if you couldn’t settle on the words. Instead you let out a small breath and pulled him back into you in a tight embrace.

It took him not even a second to hold you in return with passion, hands appraising as they swept up into your hair and around your waist. 

“Do you mean it?” you whimpered into him and he let his forehead fall to your shoulder as he cried.

“Of course, I mean it. Of course, of course.” He kept muttering it into you as he held you tighter and tighter.

His body was filled with an entirely new set of fear. A warm one that spread through his blood at the thought of what you had to face. Mulciber already knew and had taken action on that knowledge seemingly without hesitation. Regulus had heard what was being said amongst the Sacred 28, he knew to what degrees the hatred was building. His entire body was built on fear as he held what he now realised could be disturbingly fragile.

That is, until you whimpered another question into his hold and his body ached with a love so deep he had never thought it possible.

“Do you still love me?”

He had already said so, but he would happily say it again, over and over, damning himself for allowing you to wonder. “Yes, amour, always. Always.” 

Regulus took your face in one of his hands again, cradling you as he brought his forehead back to yours. Angling his face forward, he pressed what he hoped was a sweet kiss to your lips. It was wet, metallic and everything he needed. 

“I’m sorry for lying,” you whispered. He shook his head against yours.

“No, I’m sorry for stalling.”

A beat of silence. “Stalling what?” He thought you knew, but he tried to have no qualms about being explicit about it.

“Leaving.” He said it simply, hoping it would will it to be.

This time it was your turn to shake your head. “Can you leave, though? Safely? They’re becoming more and more fanatical, Reg, what if they hurt you? I’ve seen the letters.”

The fact that you have experienced what can only be classified as a hate crime, yet you have the goodness in your heart to worry about him in this way only makes him more certain of his choice.

“I have to, my love. I have to. It’s time.” He took a deep breath. “I will… I will ask Sirius for help.” 

You looked into his eyes, vision blurry from your proximity. “I’m scared for you, but I’m so proud of you at the same time.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual.” Regulus tried to huff out a small laugh, but it just came out teary. “Will you please come with me?”

“To Sirius?”

“Yes.”

“Of course.”

His hand on your squeeze pressed further into you, reverent. “We can ask for help for us both. They practically wanted Ted dead when they disowned Andromeda, and she was not even the sole heir. I’m so sorry for putting you in that situation, I–”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you assured, voice more stable and beautifully soft. “You are everything to me too, you know.”

“I’m scared,” Regulus whimpered. It’s the first time he can remember saying that out loud to someone since he was 6.

“I’m scared, too. But less so, now that I know I still have you. I couldn’t handle losing you, Reg.” Your eyes teared up again and he leaned up to kiss the corners of your eyes sweetly, collecting the tears before they had a chance to spill.

“You have me, you have me,” he whispered almost feverishly against your skin. “And I’ve got you.”

You sighed, the closest to contently you think you can get at this moment. “Will you please help me?” you whispered as you looked down at your hands.

Regulus shook himself out of his mini spiral, shook off that first voice in his head that reared its head once more and over and over, shook off anything that was not you. He mumbled an of course against your cheek before he kissed it, taking your hands in one of his. 

Unsheathing his wand he never managed to retrieve the first time around, he took one last look at the ugly markings on your hands – the hate was precisely that, ugly, and it had no place on your skin. Starting with the left – MUD – he tried the first spell he knew, and it did nothing. The bile rose in his throat as he went to try the next, fearing the worst, but by the grace of a nonexistent god, the letters finally melted away. He repeated the process on the other one.

You tried to pull your hands out of his grasp at that, but his hold tightened. He healed the viscous red streaks and peeling skin from where you had scratched at them, a cold sensation soothing over your skin as he moved his wand. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes at the gentleness, but you found yourself beginning to become completely dehydrated.

Regulus brought your hands up to his lips while he put his wand away to grasp at them with both hands. He kissed the spots he had just cleared up. Long, lingering kisses in the middle of your hand, followed by soft butterfly kisses all over it. His fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing tightly, giving the flesh new sensations to remember instead.

“You’re so good to me,” you whispered, almost like a revelation. You had loved him and you had trusted him, you had just not trusted that it would be forever, that it would be more than any loyalty to his family. You were ashamed at the thought now, as you looked at the boy on his knees in front of you, crying from loving you, kissing away your pain. It filled you with something you had not believed this day would hold for you – hope.

“I’m not,” he whispered, letting your hands settle together in your lap. “But I hope to be. I want to be. I will be.”

You smiled wetly at him and leaned forward to kiss him once more. Originally intended as a peck, the kiss grew deeper, a slow passion as you held his lips between yours, feeling the love seep through the thin skin. He continued pressing kisses all over your face, much like your hands. Any teary or red skin had his lips faintly brushing over it, taking his time to dote on you. You let your breath calm down in the meantime, panic and tension slipping away from you to be replaced by a deep exhaustion as you leaned into him.

He noticed – he had to notice, swore he always would from now on.

“Are you ready to lay down in bed, amour? Face the light?” He smiled sheepishly at the poor attempt at a joke. You seemed surprised as you looked around, almost like you had forgotten you were in a shadowy dorm bathroom.

“Only if you will lay down with me.” Your tone was nearing teasing, though not quite there. He was determined to achieve it within the hour.

“I promise,” he whispered, kissing you one last time before helping you up.

And he would go on to help you to bed and hold you tight for as long as you would let him. He would listen to you cry and laugh and worry without a second thought. He would take you with him to ask Sirius for help on escaping and keeping you safe and he would devote himself to being better. He would do anything for you – because you were, after all, everything.

[petriwriting]

Promise. - Theodore Nott X Reader

Summary: Theodore gives Y/N a special gift, reminding them that they are his safety in an unsafe world.

A/N: I would imagine this takes place in 6th year, 'cause you know.. Voldemort. But beware I've been really into writing fluff for my comfort characters lately. This is very angsty. Extra heartbreak points if one of them dies at the battle of Hogwarts, use your imagination.

Late-night walks were common for the pair. Especially when they needed to get away for the night, with everyone going on in their world it was no wonder they both needed a break.

Theodore Nott was under the threat of his father, expected to side with Lord Voldemort, it was his reputation as a pure-blooded Slytherin. Perhaps in some sickening way, he felt the need to clear the family name of his father's wrongdoing. But deep down, he knew it wasn't right. They both did.

Y/n was by his side, as loyal as a Hufflepuff. through everything. On the nights his father became aggressive and violent, Theo came to them seeking refuge. Y/n always welcomed the boy with open arms.

They had been a pair since childhood, they attended dinner parties together, and y/n attended every one of Theo's quidditch games. In turn, Theo was there for y/n when classes were stressful, and life felt overwhelming.

It wasn't until that particular evening that things would change, possibly forever.

The two walked along the empty, quiet streets braving the cold air together. they had both been quiet, observing their surroundings and enjoying each other's company in silence.

"Y/n," Theo finally said, shattering the long silence that had been following them.

"hmm?" y/n's voice was soft, quiet. they were now entering a park square. someplace slightly more private than the streets.

"I've been thinking."

"About what?"

"About us."

y/n's heart began to race. surely this wasn't a breakup, how could Theo possibly be abandoning all they had, after all, they had been through? this couldn't be. y/n was so accustomed to hearing bad news these days that it was the only solution their brain could come up with.

"Y/n," Theo turned to them, holding their face in cold pale hands. "I love you, but I don't want to be with you in this war," he said.

"Teddy, I don't understand-"

"Please just listen." Theo insisted quietly. "This is not me parting ways with you, I- could never," he explained gently. "I propose that we run away. change our names, we can flee and start a new life together. without all the dangers of being here."

Y/n was unconvinced and looked down for a moment before locking eyes with him.

"I love you more than anything. But if we stay here our lives will be in danger, possibly forever."

Y/n couldn't deny that fact. The war had already taken people they both loved. It wasn't right to be talking about wanting to get married one day, have kids, and grow old together if it meant they would be living in danger, living in fear.

"It isn't right. We can't just flee. we need to fight this," y.n shook their head gently, partially in disbelief. "no matter what happens." the pair locked eyes and the snow began to gently fall around them, coating the park in a grey glow.

"Then promise me."

Theodore shuffled through his pockets, pulling out a tiny deep red velvet box. It was battered, aged, and torn. but it was still soft. "Promise me, that you'll stick around, no matter what." as soon as Theo mimicked y/n's words, soft tears began falling from their eyes, watching him toy with the box.

Out from the box emerged a shiny, silver ring with an elaborate stone placed in it. something very expensive no doubt. something that was purchased with his father's money. Theodore offered the ring to y/n.

"This was my mother's ring," he said quietly, his voice slightly shaking. "I took it from her things when she,-" Theo gasped quietly, the shaky breath taking the air out of his lungs when he tried to continue his sentence.

Y/n grabbed the sides of his face, the boy wasn't crying, Theodore rarely ever cried. but there was hurt in his eyes that pained y/n to see.

"I promise." barely a whisper. "no matter what Theo, I'll always be right here."

Y/n's soft touch brushed against Theo's cheeks before he pulled forward pressing their lips together in desperation. It was a sweet and heartfelt kiss, like two lovers that couldn't live without each other.

After the kiss, they embraced one another very tightly as the snow collected around them.

"I just want everything to be okay," Y/n whispered. "we'll be okay."

they pulled away from one another, each shivering in the cold. Y/n took the ring and gently twirled it around their thumb and forefinger. "Theo I can not take your mother's ring." it was dazzling. quite beautiful for that sort of thing. "I know how much this means to you." y/n said. Theo was insistent. "I've been wrong about a lot of things in my life, y/n. But I was never wrong about you. I want you to have it, keep it, my end of our promise." he insisted.

"Theo-"

y/n was promptly cut off. "Please take this. you know how much it means to me, you mean more than that." his heartfelt confession made y/n's stomach flutter, it was that same feeling they had when they were younger and Theo would hold their hand or say just the right thing. Theo grabbed the ring and slipped it onto y/n's middle finger.

"I'll guard it with my life." y/n said with another shiver, the later the night grew the colder the chill in the air became.

"Here, love," Theo said, taking off his coat and offering it to Y/n by draping it around their shoulders. "but Theo, you'll be cold." y/n retorted, but Theo was incredibly insistent that evening. "I can manage until we are safe at home," he chuckled softly. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

As the two continued on their path, Theo wrapped their arm around y/n, in an effort to keep them warm and as an act of deep affection. Y/n leaned their head over onto Theo's arm.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Why Orion doesn't babysit...(

Regulus Black AU

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Summary: There are reasons Orion doesn't babysit. (Based off an episode of Last Man Standing)

Rating :T

______

“That was a nice dinner, Reg. I’m glad that you agreed to speak to me again.”

Sirius said with a grin as he closed the door behind him. After not speaking to each other in years, Regulus had finally approached Sirius about making up. Sirius knew that it was no easy feat for Regulus either. For Regulus Black to apologize about anything was about as rare as seeing a unicorn.

Something told Sirius that you were partially behind the apology too. After you gave birth to Regulus’ son, you had been trying to gently nudge Regulus in the direction of speaking to his brother again. You had been the one to approach Siruis after Walburga died. Apparently both Regulus and Orion were debating on if they should have went along with Walburga or not. It took maybe two months and Regulus turned up at Sirius’ door.

“You’re welcome. Please don’t push your luck.”

Regulus commented as Orion got up from the couch. He was happy to be talking to Sirius again too (even if he wouldn’t say it). There were still somethings that Regulus wasn’t totally comfortable with. You sat down next to Remus on the couch.

“You lot are back earlier than I thought.”

Regulus nodded, glancing around for Oliver. It wasn’t often that Regulus asked Orion to watch his grandson and he was about to remember why.

“Yes, our reservation was moved up. Where is Oliver?”

Orion glanced over his shoulder. Oliver had been one good little boy. He reminded Orion so much of Regulus as a child. It was like seeing the little star of the family all over again.

“I think he went to the lavatory. He’s a good kid. I only had to spank him the one time.”

A dead silence quickly overtook the room. Both Regulus and yourself turned to Orion with a frown while Sirius muttered “oh fuck” under his breath. You turned to your father-in-law speaking before Regulus lost his shit.

“Orion, you shouldn’t have done that.”

Orion shrugged.

“My shoulder is fine.”

Regulus rubbed a hand over his face before counting to ten.

“Father, we never spank Oliver! What were you thinking.”

Orion sat back down.

“No wonder he looked so surprised.”

Regulus started to get loud right away. You gently put a hand on his chest hoping to calm him down.

“Orion, what happened?”

“I told him to clean his toys up. He said make me so I did.”

Regulus growled. This was the last thing that he wanted to deal with. After growing up in a house where he was hit on the regular basis the last thing that he wanted was for Oliver to grow up that way. Normally all it took was for Regulus to give Oliver a glare and the little boy was doing exactly what was asked of him.

“Father, again we do not spank our son. Haven’t you learned from the way that Sirius and I were raised that spanking a kid doesn’t do any good? We don’t want Oliver to be afraid of us.”

“Alright, Regulus you made your point.”

Orion rolled his eyes and moved to take a sip of his tea. He got up and walked over to the coat closet. Halfway through putting on his coat, Orion turned to look at you. You hadn’t said much since a few moments before. Orion wasn’t a fool either. He knew that you were not about to push Regulus when he was angry. No one wanted to deal with that.

“Y/n, dear, may I ask you a question?”

You nodded as Regulus walked over to Sirius muttering something in French. Sirius elbowed his brother to pay attention to what their father was saying. While things with Orion had gotten better, Sirius still didn’t exactly trust his father 100%.

“Does Regulus pick up his socks?”

“Yes.”

You replied. Orion held his hand up before opening the door.

“You’re welcome.”

When Orion was gone, Regulus turned to look at you before shaking hs hand. Running a hand through his hair, Regulus went off in search of something stronger to drink.

“Never again! That crazy old man is not watching our son again! I am about to put dad in a home.”

Sirius and Remus were looking at each other with wide eyes. Chuckling, Sirius turned to look at you.

“Regulus used to hate picking up his socks. Dad let it go for a little bit. When Mum finally bitched about it enough, Dad unfortunalty let Regulus have it.”

Regulus came back into the room with Oliver behin him.

“Sit down.”

Regulus said calmly. Oliver sat down on the couch looking up with Regulus with a smile.

“What did I do?”

Regulus knelt down in front of his son with a sigh.

“Why did you say make me to grandpa when he told you to clean up your toys?”

Oliver shrugged.

“I thought it would make him laugh and he didn’t.”

Regulus nodded as you moved to sit on your son’s other side. You gently stroked Oliver’s hair out of his eyes.

“Oliver, I believe you know that when you are told to do something, you are supposed to do it.”

Regulus nodded in agreement.

“Sorry, son, but grandpa doesn’t find anything funny. Your mum is right, though. When you are told to do something, you need to do it. Now go upstairs and get ready for bed.”

Oliver nodded, sticking his bottom lip out before going upstairs. You gave Regulus a look that said, “do not be a pushover.”

Regulus shook his head before standing up and going back to his drink. Sirius elbowed Remus in the side before turning back to his brother.

“Hey, Regulus. Pick up your socks.”

____

@millies0bsimp @geeksareunique @jessyballet @knreidy1 @fific7 @teletubiswszpilkach @spideyxalmighty @dumbbunnys-safes @dumybitch @readtomeregulus @lucasfilms77 @rogue-nyx88 @marichromatic @i-love-scott-mccall @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @s-we-e-t-t-ea @iluvthe-marauders @woohoney @saramaple @missgorldafirst @stelleduarte @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @bennyberry @f4iryluvy @panpride @haroldpotterson @mentally-unstable-hoe @goldensunshineshit @ravenhood2792 @playmore-zeppelin @authoressskr @knight-of-gleefulness @ell0ra-br3kk3r @livshifts @ad-astra-again @regulusblackswhorecrux @kindestofkings @criminalyetminimal @rubes-xoxo @padf00ts-l0ver @regulus-black-223048

[elena-reina]

Say Something - Draco Malfoy x Reader

Request: Hellooooooo! I miss your imagines so much but do take your time of course! Could I please get one where draco and a Slytherin reader are a thing but he has been ordered to kill you by voldemort because not only are you Harry's twin sister but also draco's gf/weak spot so he treats the reader terribly because he really does not want to hurt her and he thinks breaking up with her can somehow convince voldemort that you aren't worth it. can there be a lot of angst but also some fluff? -Anon

Warnings: angstyyy

Y/N/N: Your nick name

You sprinted after Draco as fast as you could, silently thanking Merlin you were able to see him before he saw you.

Draco has been ignoring and neglecting you for a while now. Every time you attempted to talk to him, he would disappear before you could even get to him. And in moments where you finally got to him, he always excused himself claiming to be "busy."

At first, you thought it was a fluke. You went from constantly being around each other to almost never seeing each other.

Sure, Draco and you would fall into sour moods and avoid each other over stupid reasons. Almost every couple does at some point, but you would eventually talk about it. And there was always a catalyst, but this time it was different. Draco never acted like this before, and if something was truly bothering him, he would’ve told you by now.

You tried to distract yourself and focus your mind on anything else other than him. If he wanted to talk to you then he needs to be the one to make the first move since he was the one who became distant in the first place. You would constantly remind yourself of this but it was no use.

The thoughts plaguing your mind only worsened as you went about your days because all you could focus on was him. You couldn't help but think if something happened between the two of you and you were just too oblivious to see it?

Being Harry Potter's twin sister brought a lot of baggage due to the feud between the two of them, but Draco ultimately had nothing against you. And he always made sure of that from the moment the two of you started dating.

"This has been absolutely ridiculous! Will you talk to me!" you shouted, grabbing onto his Slytherin robes and yanking him around, frustrated with playing this game of cat and mouse.

Draco stopped momentarily, irritated. A grimace was plastered on his face as he remained silent.

"For the past few months I’ve been worrying over you constantly!" you shouted, jamming your finger angrily into his chest with each sentence, "I have no idea what I’ve done to you and all you have been doing is ignoring me! For Merlin's sake, we're supposed to love each other and this is how you treat me!?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking away.

"If you wanted to break up, why don't you just man up and say so instead of acting immature and avoiding me! I thought you were better than that!" you yelled, tears brimmed from the corner of your eyes. You wiped them away, scowling at him, and closed your eyes quickly composing yourself.

Draco's jaw clenched, eyebrows knitted tight in anger. His lack of response was pissing you off more and more as each second passed.

"Your silence is speaking loudly for yourself, is that what you want?!" you stomped your foot, "SAY SOMETHING!"

What happened next surprised you. Knowing how Draco tends to act in your past arguments, he would explode just as much as you. But he didn't this time. Instead, he scoffed and took a step back, creating even more distance between the two of you.

"I don't love you and I have never loved you. Thought you would've taken the hint by now, but you're just as stupid as your brother," he spat lowly, making you flinch, "Just leave me alone and never speak to me again, Y/N."

Your mouth hung agape as your named rolled off his lips, taking a step back this time.

The halls were quiet, which otherwise would've been considered peaceful if it weren't for this given moment.

You looked at him with deep hope to hear him say he was wrong. To hear him say that he didn't mean it, and this was all some cruel prank. That none of this is happening. But he didn’t.

With as much strength as you could muster without breaking down, you spoke.

"I see."

You turned on your heel, finally allowing the tears to flow down your face, and left a very heart-broken Draco alone in the hallway.

You didn't know where your feet were carrying you too, you just knew that you needed to be anywhere else but here. Maybe you'll grab your broom, and soar off to Merlin knows where. Maybe you'll grab some Floo powder and allow it to take you somewhere random. Hell, even just wandering different grounds out of Hogwarts seemed like a good plan.

You continued walking through the castle, deep in your own thoughts until you heard familiar distant voices. Walking down the curved staircase, the voices grew louder and you faced the back of your brother and Hermione deep in discussion.

They hadn't noticed your presence just yet as they continued their conversation.

"I keep having these dreams, Hermione, and I'm telling you that it's all somehow connected. I can't quiet explain it right now but... I hear him more and more each day."

She placed her hand on his shoulder, as they gazed through an opened window, facing out towards the ocean in Hogwarts.

"I believe you, trust me. We've just somehow got to," she paused, "Y/N? Are you alright?"

Hermione saw you out of the corner of her eye when she began speaking to Harry.

Harry's head snapped at the mention of your name, and he whipped around. The smile he had on his face quickly faded when he took in your appearance. With no questions asked, he rushed forward and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. You wrapped your arms around him just as tight, letting out a sob into his shoulder. Hermione also rushed forward, hugging you, brushing your hair down with her hands.

"Y/N," he whispered, lovingly, "What's happened?"

You shook your head. "You're not going to care," you cried.

You really didn't feel like being lectured by Harry and getting the 'I-told-you-so' speech. Harry always hated Draco since day one, and somehow the satisfaction of him rubbing it in your face wasn't gong to make you feel any better. You just needed the love and comfort of your brother and friends.

"Nonsense, Y/N/N, tell me what’s wrong. Please, I don’t like seeing you like this.” He said with a worried expression. You knew he wouldn’t stop asking if you didn’t give him an answer.

You sniffled, staring blankly ahead in his embrace.

"Draco and I broke up."

Harry tensed against you. His hatred for Draco ran deep, and as much as he hated seeing the two of you together, he now hated him even more for breaking your heart.

"That pathetic, foul little git," Hermione cursed, "You deserve so much better, Y/N."

"Let's take a trip to Hogsmeade and get some butter beer, yea?" Harry suggested, pulling you out of the embrace and staring into your eyes. He wasn't going to make you talk about it unless you wanted to and you appreciated it. You nodded, and linked hands with him.

~*~

Almost another month and a half had passed and each day felt like a drag. However, you must admit you don't feel as hollow now as much as you did a month ago.

Harry made you feel a lot better, and constantly tried to keep your mind off things. You began spending even more time with him than you did before. Not to say you wouldn't hang out with your own twin, but it was different when you were dating Draco. And actually, you had been more busy with going on Harry's missions with Voldemort than you thought you would've been, some more dangerous than others.

Which, of course, was not in Harry's plan to distract you but that's just what was going on at the moment.

Some days were harder than others, and a part of you still feels like you needed answers or some sort of closure, but another part of you is trying its best to move on.

Since your break up, you unironically hadn't seen Draco as much as you used to when you were actively hunting him down. And when you did, it was only quick glimpses of him turning around a corner or exiting from somewhere.

Did you actually believe that Draco no longer loves you? No. You don't just wake up one day and decide you no longer lover someone. You knew something had to have happened and the more you came to terms with it, the more you just wanted to understand.

It wasn't until one night, you accidentally spent a longer time in the Slytherin Common Room than you had anticipated to. You were sitting on the couch facing the fireplace studying for an upcoming test when you heard shuffling.

Draco silently closed his dorm room door, and made his way down the stairs. Fixing the creases in his suit, he headed to exit the Slytherin Common Room.

You silently closed your book and turned around.

I shouldn't say anything. Just let him leave and go to bed - you thought to yourself.

However your lips worked faster than your brain and before you knew it, you spoke.

As he passed the main room and was about to exit, a voice he's been longing to hear snapped him out of the dark thoughts clouding his mind.

"Draco?"

He stopped on his heels, his back towards you, freezing. He was not expecting you to be up at this ungodly hour at night, let alone even in the Slytherin Common Room. You should've been in your dorm, asleep. He didn't dare turn around, instead he kept eyes glued forward. Before he could take a step, you placed your book on the couch and made your way to him and placed your hand lightly on his shoulder.

You felt him tense up.

Sliding your hand down his arm, and to his hand, you attempted to entwine your fingers. Draco gave no reaction to this, and remained limp.

Staring at the back of his perfectly kept blonde hair, you could see his jaw tensing. He wanted to say something, but kept holding himself back.

"I know the last thing you want to do is talk to me... but I would really like some ans..answers," your voice cracked- you hadn't meant for it.

You took another deep breath, trying to compose yourself. "I promise to leave you alone but can I just know if I had done something that made you treat me like this?"

You were over it. You were over being angry and upset. You wanted answers, and as each day went by you grew more and more desperate.

You were at your breaking point, actually you were past it.

His hand twitched. He wanted to pull his hand out of your grasp, tell you to go away, and walk out this door.

But he couldn't. These months were just as hard on him as it was for you.

This time, you stepped around him, facing him face to face. His lips were turned upside down into a frown, but not the angry kind. He looked depressed; completely and utterly miserable. He refused to look you in the eyes.

He knew he was going to break any moment.

Reaching up, you hesitantly cupped his cheeks with both of your shaky hands. You furrowed your eyebrows, getting a good look at his face.

His eyes were bloodshot, dull, and sunken in, with heavy bags underneath them. His skin was pale, more so than usual, making him look sickly. He looks like he hadn't ate in days and his face was so cold and skinnier than how you remember him.

He closed his eyes, fighting the battle in his mind. You let out a deep breath that you had been holding in for what felt like a long time.

"What did I do to make you fall out of love so suddenly?" you whispered, each delicate word became more quiet than the last.

You would've expected him to snap at you or push you away by now, but him not doing so tacitly confirmed that you knew something was wrong.

Instead, his eyes began to water. You lightly rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs, as it felt like he lightly sank into your touch.

"I.." he began, with a shaky voice. You caught on that he was trying to stop himself from talking.

"Please," you begged, becoming as emotional as him, "Talk to me."

The silence in the room dragged on, and the tension only grew.

And then, he gave up. He lunged forward, suddenly pulling you towards him. He wrapped his arms around you desperately, not wanting to let go. It felt like every emotion Draco kept bottled up these past months were finally being released. His cries sounded so violent, you couldn't help but cry with him, missing being in arms.

"I can't," he cried into your hair.

"You can't talk to me?"

He squeezed you tightly, sniffling.

"I can't kill you. I won't."

You froze, your heart dropping.

"W-What?"

"He-He wants me to kill you," he sobbed, wetting your Y/H/C hair with tears, "But I won't!"

This time you lightly nudged him off of you, taking a small step back. You stood there, staring at him confused. Beyond confused, actually.

You inhaled sharply, lips twitching, trying to remain calm.

"What are you talking about? He? Voldemort?"

He silently nodded his head.

You're not sure what to say. You cannot say you're shocked Voldemort wants you dead. Hell, if he wants Harry then of course he's going to want you too. But what's confusing you is if this was the case, why wouldn't Draco have told you in the first place? Unless he actually planned to do it, but stopped himself?

As Draco attempted to get closer, you snapped out of your thoughts and took a step back.

"You're scared of me." he says quietly.

It might be true. You can't really tell.

Softly, he calls your name in an attempt to get you to look at him. "Look at me, please."

Your gaze locks onto his. He's unable to read your face. He looks around the open space of the Slytherin Common Room.

"Can we go somewhere more private?"

You scoff, gaining back some of your confidence, "I am not going anywhere with you. Whatever you have to tell me, you can tell me right here."

"Y/N, I would never put you in harms way, trust me-"

"-trust you!? Now, you want me to trust you after all these months!?"

This time, he exploded. Not out of anger, but out of frustration.

"I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO PROTECT YOU!"

His voice echoed off of the walls, you wouldn't be shocked if others might've been woken up.

"I have been trying to keep you safe this entire time," he choked, lowering his voice, "please."

This time you shut up, and bowed your head. He took that cue to begin walking.

The corridors exuded a serene aura when they weren't congested with student groups attempting to navigate their way around Hogwarts. Your footsteps on the chilly stone were the only sounds audible as you kept up with Draco.

The faint candles positioned on the walls provided only partial guidance in the extensive corridors. You trailed the corridors until you came to the top of the astronomy tower's stairway.

You followed him inside as he opened the hefty wooden door. Following him to the railing, he leaned over it facing the outside. You followed suit, alongside him keeping just a little distance between the two of you.

"I don't know how, but he found out we were dating," Draco began, keeping his gaze straight ahead, as the wind gently blew through his hair, "As you know, Voldemort wants your brother dead. He thought the best way to get to Harry was to get to you since you're his only family. He wanted to kidnap and use you to trap your brother."

He paused. His mouth was slightly ajar, like he was trying to find the right words to say.

"After finding out about us, he confronted me about 'hiding' you from him. So, rather than kidnapping you, he intended to kill you. But to punish me, he ordered me to be the one to do so."

The wind howled, blowing the trees, having the branches sway harshly, leaves flying all throughout the wind. Your heart began to pound as a fit of shivers shot through you, causing you to pull your cloak tighter around yourself.

"Never once was I ever going to go through with his plan. I thought trying to prove to him that I wasn't involved with you would've somehow made him change his mind. That if I could prove to him you meant nothing to me and your death wasn't worth it, but he didn't believe me. He could see right through me and threatened to kill me if I didn't kill you."

You anxiously bit your lip, this time turning to face him.

"To convince him, I had to convince myself I wasn't in love with you. I had to shut you out. I needed to convince myself that I didn't need you.. but I'll always need you. As long as you were around me, your safety was becoming constantly going to be in peril. I couldn't keep up with my plan if I was still around you."

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

He let out a breath, that almost sounded like a scoff. "How could I? I thought it would've been easiest to make you hate me."

You don't respond. The words you wanted to say, abruptly got lost inside you, scrambling around as you stare at him in the quietness resting between the two of you.

"As much as I tried, Draco, I could never hate you," you frowned.

This time, Draco turned his head and finally locked eyes with you with what felt like in forever. His watery eyes softened.

Draco stepped closer to you, and reached for you, wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck. His thumb gently pressed into your skin, making slow and deep circles. This is the closest you've felt to Draco in a while.

"You should," he whispered so quietly you almost didn't hear him. For a few moments, he just holds you. You're not quite sure whether he expects you to say anything else.

Without a second thought, you feel yourself leaning forward. He closes his eyes, fighting the pain in his mind. Your eyes flutter closed, the both of your lips so close to each other that you could feel the warmth radiating off of his lips without actually touching them.

“I love you.” You whisper, ever so slightly against his lips. He takes that as a sign to finally press your lips together. After months of being apart, the feeling of his lips against yours felt like coming home. He had been longing for your touch, he craved you every second of the day.

The kiss was desperate, as though he felt like he would lose you if he let go; a combination of fear, relief, and love seeping into the physical gesture. Draco moved his lips roughly against yours, you could taste the salt on him left from his tears, the same salty droplets still leaking from your eyes.  You deepened the kiss, grabbing onto the front of his shirt and balling it in your fists.

His hands slid down from your neck to your waist, pulling you closer as you raised your hands to his smooth platinum hair. You ran your fingers through his locks, lightly tugging.

Pulling away, you rested your forehead against his, brushing away the stray tears from his cheeks. You gave him a sad smile and kept one of your hands on his cheek.

"Next time, please, just talk to me. I would've been more understanding."

He nodded his head, turning his face slightly to press a kiss in the palm of your hand.

"I'm sorry, I was just afraid of-"

You shushed him. "You don't need to explain yourself to me anymore, I understand now. Moving forward, we need to work together through thick and thin, Draco. I knew being together wasn't going to be easy."

A small smile finally crept up on onto his lips, a smile you've been longing to see.

"I'll go through it all with you, Y/N."

Your heart fluttered, pulling him in once more for a long deserved kiss.

[moonstruckme]

remus one shot where he can’t stop blushing around the reader because he has a huge crush on her and sirius and james are like dude please ask her out already?? 🙈

cw: the trials and tribulations of a restaurant job, semi-confident reader (or at least she can withstand Sirius' flirting, which I couldn't), James and Sirius' shameless wingmanning

shy!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

The cafe is crammed. You’ve almost tripped over two kids already whose parents let them run loose, you did let a glass slip from your tray when a customer stuck his leg out into the walkway without looking, and you’ve quickly reached the conclusion that today was definitely the wrong day to break in your new work shoes. You’re on your last straw at only ten in the morning, but your pasted-on smile becomes twice as genuine when you see a table of your favorite regulars. 

“Hi,” you say warmly, clicking your pen and readying it above your pad. “How are we doing today?” 

You’re greeted with two dazzling grins from one side of the booth and a shyer smile from the other. 

“Y/n,” says Sirius, in his suave, flirtatious way (you’ve learned not to take it personally), “you’re looking stunning.” 

You know your hair is suffering from the weather outside and there’s orange juice down the front of your apron, but you smile at him anyway. “Thank you, so are you.” 

“How’s your morning going?” James asks. These boys are never ones to skip over pleasantries to get to their meal, and while with other tables you might try to hurry them along, you never mind in this case. Today especially, you welcome the break. 

“Oh, it’s going,” you try to joke, looking pointedly down at your orange juice stain. “Could be worse.” 

He makes a face. “Yikes.” 

“It’s fine,” you say breezily. “What can I get you?” 

You look to James, because really he’s the only one you ever need to ask. The other two are fairly consistent, but James seems inclined to try something new every time he comes in. 

He doesn’t disappoint now, locking eyes with you seriously over the top of his menu. “How is your butterfly lemonade? No—actually, what is your butterfly lemonade?”

“It’s…” You bite your lip, thinking. Sirius snickers, and when you look he seems to be sharing in some joke with Remus’, whose cheeks have gone a tad pink. “I’m not sure, honestly, but it’s sweet. I think you’d like it.” 

“That, then.” James slaps down his menu decisively. 

“Right.” You write it down. “And then, a caramel latte and a tea?” You look to Sirius and Remus for confirmation. 

The former shoots you a grin you take as a yes, while the latter nods and says quietly, “Thank you.” 

“No problem.” You soften your smile for Remus. You adore all of these boys, but you have a bit of a tender spot for him. Remus is by far the quietest of his friends, though really just as friendly when he does talk. It’s terribly endearing. 

You click your pen again. “Okay, back soon!” 

The boys’ table remains a bright spot in your morning for as long as they’re there. Their antics you’re rather used to—the flirting, and the pranks, and the teasing way both James and Sirius poke at Remus while his blush worsens and worsens—but it surprises a laugh out of you when you joke that you’ll have to spit in Remus’ food if he orders the brioche (which infamously holds up the kitchen every time) and Sirius snorts doubt he’d mind before yelping and jumping in his seat. By the time you’re bringing them their ticket, the cafe has reached its late morning lull and your day is remarkably brighter than it started off. 

You seem to be interrupting some sort of debate when you approach their table, Remus leaning forward to whisper across the booth before he catches sight of you and sits back. The tops of his cheekbones are tinged pink. Sirius, on the other hand, is grinning wickedly, whereas James looks mostly exasperated. 

“Thank you,” James says kindly, taking the ticket from you. Remus starts rifling through his pockets for cash, but Sirius only looks at you as though sizing you up. 

“Y/n,” he starts to say, ignoring how Remus’ eyes narrow in his direction, “are you seeing anyone at the moment?” 

You feel your eyebrows lift. “Not currently, no.” 

“But why not?” He affects a look of puzzled contemplation, propping his chin on his hand. “You’re a pretty girl. Are you not looking to date?” 

You shrug, fighting the urge to cross your arms defensively. It’s not that you’ve never gotten these sorts of personal questions from customers before, but you weren’t expecting them from this table; you thought you knew better than to take Sirius’ flirting seriously. “Nothing has come up lately, I guess.” 

“Do you fancy men?”

“Sirius,” Remus hisses. “Leave her alone.” 

“What?” Sirius spreads his hands, guileless. “None of us would care if you didn’t, lovely—well, some might care, but no one would hold it against you—” He yelps for the second time today, this time shooting a glare at his friend across the booth. “Anyway, you don’t have to say if you aren’t comfortable.” 

You’re laughing a bit now, half nervously. “No, that’s okay. I do, yeah.” 

“Interesting.” James sets down the ticket. It seems you have his full attention now. “And what do you think of our Remus?” 

Remus makes a horrified sputtering sound, and you turn to find him looking at James in betrayal. He’s pink to the tips of his ears. 

You can’t help a small smile as you catch on. “I think he seems very sweet.” 

“Mm, well spotted.” James nods, tenting his hands like a man at a business meeting. 

“Yes, very good taste,” Sirius agrees. 

“He’s a dateable bloke, no?” James asks you. He jolts in his seat a little, but doesn’t yelp like Sirius had. Remus appears caught between wanting to hide his face in his hands and wanting to burn his friends to cinders with his gaze. He’ll be lucky, you think amusedly, if he doesn’t burn himself up first. The hue of his blush is only getting deeper. 

“He is,” you agree. You look at Remus again. This time, he meets your eyes, his look softening. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says miserably. 

Your grin spreads. “No, don’t be.” 

“So would you like to date him?” James furthers. 

Remus does put his head in his hands now, letting out a muffled groan. “James.” 

“What? Clearly you aren’t going to do it yourself, and I am sick of trying to eat my breakfast whilst you moon over—” He jumps in his seat again, and goes quiet, reaching down to rub at his leg. You tuck your lips in to hide a smile. 

“I’m just going to take this,” you say, reaching for the customer copy of their receipt. You bend over, scrawling your number down on the signature line. “And if anyone has more questions for me later, they can give me a ring. Okay?” 

You look at Remus. He looks nauseous and stop-sign red, but he manages to give you a small smile. “Alright,” he says, tentatively.

“Perfect. Bye, boys.” You shoot them a wave as you go to your next table. You hope Remus sees how your smile is really only for him.

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Dating the Slytherin boys (+ Harry) ▪ HEADCANONS

Requested: No

Characters: Mattheo Riddle, Tom Riddle, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Regulus Black, Harry Potter (+ y/n)

Warnings: NSFW mentions, English is not my first language

A/N: I'm not sure I like this but here we go. However I have to say I like Regulus' one so I might turn his version into a one shot one day (when uni won't be killing me slowly). This will include also the pre-dating/flirting stage as well. SORRY FOR THE TYPOS. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Enjoy! ^^

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus

Tag list for this story: @anawritez-posts @pumpkinchee @alwayslatetothefandoms

Mattheo Riddle:

His feelings for you probably confused him at first 

If he falls first, he either won’t let you know or will do everything to get your attention (‘Hey, y/n, come sit here, the seat is free!”, “y/n, do you mind helping me with the homework for Snape? I can’t bloody do it”, “How about we go to Hogsmeade, just you and me?”, “you look beautiful, y/n”)

Your love for him always calms him when he gets anxious or when he’s upset, especially after his father comes back

Will tell you things he never told anyone

Would rather spend time with you than with his friends

Is terrified something will happen to you because of his father 

VERY jealous, but trusts you

Despite easily getting angry, he can’t get mad at you. Even during arguments 

LOVES sleeping in your arms or when you just hold him

He's crazy about your body

Loves showering with you, and we both know how it often ends

HOT, passionate sex

Will randomly eat you out without expecting anything in return (doesn't mind if you return the favor, though)

100% calls you "baby" or "love" all the time

Doesn’t care about what anyone thinks of him as long as you love him

Your love makes him feel lighter and stronger

You're his whole world

Feels bad when he hears someone criticize you for dating him 

Always makes sure you don’t overwork yourself, and makes sure you get enough sleep, water and food, and comforts you when you're anxious

Holds your hands when he's anxious or stressed

Will listen to anything you have to say 

Crazy about your perfume

Theodore Nott:

Struggles to express his love or feelings in general, at least in the beginning 

Has never done serious relationships before, and it may cause some trouble in your relationship, as you end up believing he doesn’t care about you

It causes many fights, and the last one will be the first time he says ‘I love you’

Always goes to you for comfort 

Loves sleeping with you in his arms, or cuddling, and with time he can’t sleep without you

Loves watching you sleep 

Loves having you on his lap

Always gets you great gifts (even randomly)

“Well, it thought it was pretty, and…it reminded me of you.”

Will fight any guy who is rude to you or acts like a creep 

Very jealous (trusts you, doesn’t trust others)

Doesn’t mind PDA at all, will gladly hold your hand or kiss you in public

Always has a hand on your waist or his arm around your shoulders 

Very supportive in everything you do, even when he doesn’t understand it/isn’t really interested in it

Isn’t very good with comforting people (mostly because he's not used to it), but will hold you and listen to you as long as you need, can even give you advice/reassurance 

Every compliment/'I love you' you say melts his heart and means much more to him than he shows, same goes for anything you do for him

Loves doing fun things, even if it’s just throwing snowballs at each other during winter (which ends in loving kisses, just savouring the joy of being together)  

Love getting in a pool with you and playing "childish" games during summer

Any form of intimacy means A LOT to him 

He's used to hooks up and "fucking" but it takes him a bit of time to have sex with you (despite being crazy about you and your body) because you mean everything to him and with you it's really making love instead of just "fucking"

The first time is loving and slow yet passionnate (eye contact at all times, hands holding, desperate kisses from him), and it gets a bit rougher and passionate the next times (but aftercare, which he isn't used to, is always on point and keeps getting better)

Is secretly very insecure, and is terrified you will leave him (especially for another “better” guy) 

Craves your touch and your love but won’t admit it

His boggart is probably you being dead alongside his mother

Will tell you sweets things in Italian

Very clingy in private - and also in public with time

With you he learns to be happier and discovers a happier side of himself he didn't know he had

Loves you much more than he actually shows at first 

Will often say you're all he has (and means it)

But with time, you have no reason to doubt his love and he’s the perfect boyfriend

Blaise Zabini:

Probably will court you like the gentleman he is

He doesn’t trust people easily and might be a little distant (while always polite and kind) in the early stages of your relationship 

But with time he becomes very warm and smiles a lot

Always kisses the top of your hand or your forehead 

Doesn’t do much PDA except for holding hands and kisses on your forehead

However in private he’ll 100% cuddle you and hold you

Dates in parks or restaurants  

Get you flowers at least once a month

Will always defend you against others 

One of his love languages is acts of service

Lorenzo Berkshire:

You either were friends before dating or he fell in love with you at first sight, there is no in between

Takes you on fun dates (arcade, funfair, theme parks) 

Can be shy at the beginning, which will make it a bit hard for him to talk about how he feels about you

Movie nights where you two eats lots of snacks and sweets while cuddling 

Always smiles when you enter a room

So supportive 

Loves when you're on his lap

He has no problem with PDA

Quickly willing to meet your family if you agree

He’s a great listener and mostly gives good advices 

Loves taking naps with you 

Always makes you sure you get enough sleep, water and food

Won’t let you get yourself into dangerous situations

Loves to go anywhere with you, no matter the activity and even if he just follows you around 

Many pet names

If you're Muggleborn or grew up among Muggles, he will totally ask you questions about the muggle world

Passionnate sex, will get rough if he hasn't seen you in a long time or if it's angry sex after he got jealous

His aftercare is the best, and he's always thankful you trust him enough to have that form of intimacy with him

Draco Malfoy:

Won’t flirt at first with you but keeps wanting your attention

Tries to seduce you with expensive gifts, and is a bit taken aback when you say it doesn’t work

Continues to get you gifts, but will make sure they match your interests/tastes, and keeps expensive gifts for your birthdays and Christmas (even though he’d like to get them all year for you) 

At first he doesn't show any weakness in your presence

With you he’ll learn patience and to focus of more positive things, and also to stand up to his father

Takes you on dates every chance he gets

Will ditch his friends to spend time with you

Probably makes Crabbe and Goyle carry your bags or do things for you

So proud to be dating you, it might even make him more arrogant

Gets grumpy when jealous but after a kiss on the cheek he’s back to his normal self 

Will invite you to his home and write you nearly every day during holidays

Hates it when Harry or any Gryffindor boy tries to talk to you

Surprisingly has no problem with PDA

Loves when you come to see him play during Quidditch matches

Tom Riddle:

Oh boy

It started with him admiring/watching you from afar, for a reason he can’t understand

SUPER confused by what he feels for you and why

Will probably try to get closer to you through homework or through books if he sees you read one

Will know everything about you, and will secretly follow you, saving you if you’re in danger with you never knowing who saved you

Crazy about your perfume, so much so that it makes him steal one of your clothes just to be able to smell it anytime he wants

After a while, he’ll spend most of his time with you without ever admitting he likes it

Will probably let you know his feelings for you after he cast a spell on a guy for being a creep with you 

Won’t let another man touch you

Will ask Mattheo for advice to be better or to make you fall in love with him

Will do your homework without hesitation, even if he pretends that he hates it, and will leave explanations so you understand his answers/his work

No PDA except for holding hands or your hand under his arm, but will make sure to stay close to you at all times 

Is a surprisingly good listener 

VERY jealous, but surprisingly isn’t mad or suspicious at you

“Did you enjoy having his attention? Do you wish for me to show you how my attention is better?” 

He doesn't stress over homework or stuff like that, so he finds it ridiculous when you do (learns with time to be more understanding)

Will let flowers in your room with a note on it

Pretends to not care about the gifts you get him for his birthday or Christmas but it actually means so much to him as no one ever got him any gifts before 

Nothing the others say about him gets to him, but he gets angry when he hears someone say that you deserve better than him

As book!Tom who grew up in an orphanage: he's secretly insecure about his background and the fact that he’s poor, and thinks you deserve better 

As Voldemort: Might be torn between continuing his goals for power or spending a simple life with you; is aware you’ll leave him if he gets on a darker path 

As Voldemort’s son: would do everything to protect you from his father, and if he’s forced to get the Dark Mark, he will makes sure you don’t know 

Possessive kisses 

Would hurt anyone who does you wrong

Borrows money from Draco to take you on dates or to get you gifts, as he feels like you deserve the nicest things, even though you keep telling him his mere presence is enough

May feel a little bit guilty that he can’t properly show you his love like “normal” boyfriends do 

Won’t admit it but considers you the only good thing in his life, and if he ever lost you he’d get on a dark path

Won’t cuddle at first, but if you wake up first you’ll find him sleeping close to you, with at least one of his hands touching you

Always notices when you don’t eat, sleep or drink enough

You’re the first (and only) person he will feel romantic love for

He has a bit of sexual experience before, but with you it's completely different - once you guys have sex for the first time, he becomes obsessed with your body and how it makes him feel

Loves fingering you

"You like it, dove?"

Even if you guys don’t work out, he won’t ever be with somebody else 

Would ask your parents for you hand in marriage, but honestly it's just out of politeness, the only answer that matters to him is yours

Regulus Black:

Like Blaise, he was raised the old fashioned way

Acts coldly towards everyone except you, his tone and eyes gets warmer and kinder when talking/looking at you, and you’re the only person he’ll smile at

You were his best (and only) friend and he has been in love with you for years

He hides his feelings very well, but one day you start dating someone else (thinking Regulus doesn’t share your feelings) but he can’t bear it and confesses his feelings

Always defends you

He’ll take you on restaurants or picnics dates, always bringing flowers

Mostly fine with PDA (holding hands, hands on your waist)

Thinks he’s very lucky to have you

Probably already starts thinking of marrying you during your last year at Hogwarts 

A bit jealous, but can’t stand it when Sirius tries to talk to you

Will gladly do your homework with/for you

Loves it when you sleep in each other’s arms, loves feeling you close

Loves it when you call him “Reggie” (only you is allowed to)

Will literally do everything you ask him to

You’re everything to him

Can’t stay away from you for long

Will get worried if you’re five minutes late

Always calls you “sweetheart” or “love”/”my love” 

Slow, romantic sex most of the time but sometimes he needs to be rougher

Thanks to you he’ll feel lighter and he will become kinder

You’ll even make him change his views on blood purity and stand up to his parents, and with time he gets closer to Sirius thanks to that (and you) 

If that doesn’t change and he still joins Voldemort, he’ll leave you a letter before going to the cavern, saying how much he loves you and how much you mean to him

Harry Potter:

Don’t expect any pet names from him, but he might create a nickname with your name (like he calls Ginny ‘Gin’ in the Cursed Child) 

His love languages are fierce protectiveness, loyalty and a patience he didn’t knew he had

Has no problem with PDA because he doesn’t care about what other people think  

Loves cuddles

Rarely gets mad at you, and feels guilty when he does

Mostly gets mad at you when you hurt yourself (for example during Quidditch) but it's also because he was scared for you

Hot kisses in private

Will be jealous if he sees you with another guy 

He’s passionate in a lot of things he does, and it includes you and everything you do

Will fiercely defend you again anyone, can even throw hands

Gets FURIOUS when Umbridge hurts you during detention, and will cuddle you for hours and do everything he can to make the pain disappear

Knows people are mean to you during fifth year because you're dating him and he hates it

During that year the only peace he feels is when he's holding you or when you sleep in his arms (it's also the only time he doesn't get nightmares)

Very supportive 

Loves getting you gifts 

You make him feel SO happy, he’ll just keep smiling for no reason 

Gets more and more clingy with time

Always write to you during the holidays (you always invite him to come to your house)

I'm not sure about sex while you guys are at Hogwarts but he 100% feels lust for you, there will definitely be hot making sessions when you guys are alone in a dark corner of the castle and it often ends up with you against the wall with your legs around his waist while he kisses your neck and caresses your legs

However sometimes he just can't stop himself and will eat you out (even maybe finger you at the same time), and will be proud when you come

Any act of service you do for him means a lot

You're always worried about him when he's at the Dursleys but he reassures you that he's fine

Comes to you in the middle of the night if he has a nightmare and generally comes to you for comfort or to rant 

Needs you more than ever after Voldemort comes back and after Sirius’ death 

Misses you like crazy during his quest for Horcruxes, and he can’t bear the thought of something happening to you 

Might struggle to show it, but he knows and is thankful of how patient and comprehensive you are with him, and that makes him want to be the best boyfriend he can be

Terrified Voldemort might hurt/kill you

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[ahqkas]

♯ JEALOU$Y ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! an unexpected situation catches you off guard in the heart of florence and your boyfriend reveals a side of him you’ve never seen before (based off this req.!!)

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, jealous + italian theo, translation of foreign language + lmk !

WORD COUNT! 1.3k

NOTES! he’s so fine when he’s jealous❕

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THEODORE NOTT WAS FAR FROM HAVING A SHORT TEMPER (UNLIKE HIS BEST FRIEND) BUT THAT DIDN'T MEAN HE WAS NECESSARILY CARELESS. Sometimes, jealousy wrapped around his heart like the snake representing his house, squeezing and picking at the muscle, giving it wounds for blood to shed from.

And every time he tried to push those feelings aside, they came back even stronger than before in a crashing wave full of raw emotion. He felt like a puppet on a string that was pulled tight by the cruel hands of jealousy. His actions were no longer his own.

The summer sun bathed the picturesque streets of Florence in a warm, golden glow, casting a honeyed hue over the ancient city. Cobblestone pathways, worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, stretched along the bustling streets. Each turn revealed a new delight: charming cafés with wrought-iron tables spilling onto the sidewalks, historic landmarks standing as silent reminders of the past, and vibrant marketplaces bursting with life and color. The air was rich with the scent of blooming flowers, mingling with the earthy aroma of aged stone and the tantalizing whiff of fresh espresso. The fragrance was an intoxicating blend, making every breath feel like a taste of paradise. The sounds of Florence added to the sensory feast: the melodic chatter of locals and tourists, the clinking of glasses and cutlery from the outdoor restaurants, and the distant strains of street musicians playing heavenly tunes on their violins and accordions.

Florence, in the embrace of summer, was absolutely beautiful. It was a place where history and romance intertwined, where every corner held a new discovery, and every moment was a celebration of the beauty of life. The city's magic lay not just in its landmarks, but in the way it made you feel — alive, enchanted, and eternally in love with the world around you.

You walked hand in hand with Theodore, your fingers intertwined in one as you explored the enchanting city. This vacation had been his idea, a chance for the two of you to escape the pressures of Hogwarts and immerse yourselves in the beauty and romance of Italy. Theo's Italian heritage made the trip even more special; he was eager to show you the places that held a special place in his heart.

As you wandered through a bustling street, you paused to admire a street artist's breathtaking paintings. The vibrant colors and detailed brushstrokes captured the scenery of Florence in ways that made the city's beauty stand out even more, and you found yourself lost in the artwork. Theo had stepped away momentarily to get you both something to eat from a nearby stand, leaving you alone but content. The hum of the city buzzed around you, voices of people blending with the occasional strum of a guitar.

While you were engrossed in the art, a group of local boys approached, their laughter and chatter filling the air. They were handsome and confident, their flirtatious smiles and easy charm unmistakable. One of them, with dark, curly hair and a mischievous grin, stepped forward, clearly intent on catching your attention. His eyes sparkled with interest as he gestured towards you.

"Sei molto bella." ("You are very beautiful.")

You blinked, a bit taken aback. Although you had picked up a few phrases during your time with Theo, your grasp of the language was far from fluent. You understood enough to know that he was complimenting you, but the exact words of meaning escaped you.

Before you could respond, another boy joined in, his tone equally playful. "Vuoi venire a fare una passeggiata con noi?" ("Do you want to go for a walk with us?")

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, both from the unexpected attention and your inability to respond. Your eyes darted around, hoping to spot your boyfriend. You were feeling increasingly uncomfortable, unsure how to extricate yourself from the situation.

Just as you were about to attempt a polite but awkward decline, you heard Theo's voice, sharp and commanding. "Ehi, lasciatela in pace!" ("Hey, leave her alone!")

The transformation in him was startling. Theo, usually so calm and composed, had a fierce intensity in his eyes. He stepped between you and the group of boys, his posture protective, his expression a stormy mix of anger and determination. The easygoing demeanor he often sported was replaced by a fierce warning.

His broad shoulders squared, blocking the boys' view of you completely, creating a barrier that was both physical and emotional. The bright warmth of the sun seemed to dim in comparison to the fire that burned in Theo's gaze. It was as if a switch had been flipped, transforming him from the gentle, sweet boyfriend you knew into a guardian ready to defend the owner of his heart and soul.

The boys, who had moments ago been brimming with confidence, raised their hands in mock surrender, laughing nervously. "Calmati, amico. Non volevamo causare problemi," one of them said, trying to diffuse the situation. ("Calm down, friend. We didn't want to cause trouble.")

But Theo wasn't having any of it. Each word was a blade of a dagger, cutting through the casual flirtation of the boys, leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. "Non vedete che non è interessata? Andatevene prima che mi arrabbi davvero." ("Can't you see she's not interested? Walk away before I really get angry."). His voice was low and menacing as he continued in rapid Italian, his words too fast for you to catch but clearly effective in making the boys rethink their approach. They muttered a few apologies before scurrying away, casting wary glances over their shoulders.

Theo turned to you, his eyes softening instantly as he took in your bewildered expression. The fierce protector you had just witnessed melted away, replaced by your sweet boy you knew so well. "Are you okay?" His hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a comforting touch.

You nodded, still a bit shaken. "I'm fine. They were just . . . I didn't understand what they were saying," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Theo's lips curved into a reassuring smile. "They were trying to flirt with you," he explained. "But don't worry, they're gone now."

You managed a small laugh, the tension easing out of your body. "I figured that much," you said, your voice lightening. "Thank you, Theo."

He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart were instantly calming. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he murmured, his breath brushing against your hair. "I just couldn't stand the thought of them bothering you."

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. The fierce protectiveness in his gaze had melted into something softer, more tender. "You were amazing," you said honestly. "I've never seen you like that before."

Theo's smile widened, a hint of pride in his expression. "Well, I can't help it," he said, his tone teasing but sincere. "You bring out the best in me."

As you continued your walk through the beautiful streets of Florence, Theo kept you close, his arm securely around you. The incident with the local boys faded into the background, replaced by the joy of being together in such a magical place. The city's charm and Theo's unwavering affection made you feel like you were living in a dream.

Later that evening, as you sat together at a cozy café, sipping on rich Italian espresso, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Theo. His protective nature, his deep love for you, and his ability to make you feel safe and cherished were all things you treasured deeply. As the sun set over the Florence skyline, painting the sky in brilliant hues of pink and orange, you leaned into Theo, feeling utterly content.

In that moment, with the world bathed in the soft glow of twilight, you knew that no matter where you were, as long as you were with Theo, you were home.

[deatheaterv]

ENDEARING

pairing : james potter x fem!reader

genre : fluff

summary : james potter teases you ALOT

it started small. james potter, hogwarts’ golden boy, had taken a liking to you, and the entire school seemed to know it. at first, it was easy to ignore—the odd smirk across the great hall, a wave during transfiguration, and the occasional “you’re looking radiant today, y/n!” whenever he passed you in the corridors.

but then he ramped it up.

one morning, you were walking to charms when you heard it.

“oi, y/n! i’ve decided i’m gonna marry you!”

you froze mid-step, the bustling corridor falling silent as every single person turned to look at you. your eyes widened in horror, and you whipped around to see james standing at the other end, his hands cupped around his mouth as he grinned like a lunatic.

“what do you say? sound like a good plan?” he called out, his voice echoing down the corridor.

“i say you’re insufferable, potter!” you shouted back, your face burning.

he clutched his chest dramatically, pretending to stagger backward. “ah, rejection. but don’t worry, love, i’ll win you over eventually!”

you stormed off, ignoring the muffled laughter and whispers from the other students.

it didn’t stop there.

a week later, you were in herbology, carefully trimming a particularly aggressive fanged geranium when james sauntered up to your station.

“looking good, y/n,” he said, leaning against the table with a cocky grin. “but you’d look even better if you let me take you out.”

you didn’t even look up. “potter, if you don’t leave me alone, i’ll feed you to this plant.”

“you’re feisty. i like that,” he teased, wagging his eyebrows.

“and you’re annoying,” you shot back, finally meeting his gaze.

he clutched his heart as if you’d stabbed him. “you wound me again, darling. one of these days, you’ll see how charming i am.”

“don’t hold your breath,” you muttered, focusing back on the plant.

the next day, he upped the ante.

you were sitting in the library, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when james appeared, plopping down in the seat across from you.

“potter,” you groaned, not even looking up.

“just thought i’d keep you company,” he said, resting his chin on his hand as he stared at you.

“don’t you have quidditch practice or something?”

“i canceled it. you’re more important.”

you rolled your eyes. “please stay away.”

“sure, but a kiss first?”

“you’re unbelievably irritating,” you finally looking up to glare him.

he just laughed, completely unfazed. “come on, y/n, admit it. you’d regret it if you don’t want to.”

“not likely,” you muttered, though the faint smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

the teasing didn’t stop, but over time, you found yourself less annoyed by it. there was something about james’ relentless determination that was almost endearing.

one afternoon, you were sitting by the lake, enjoying the quiet, when james appeared out of nowhere, flopping down beside you.

“don’t you ever get tired of bothering me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“never,” he said, grinning. “so, what do you say? want to grab dinner with me tonight?”

“is this your way of asking me out?” you asked, giving him a skeptical look.

“obviously. i’m very subtle,” he said, smirking.

you couldn’t help but laugh. “you’re ridiculous, potter.”

“ridiculously in love with you,” he shot back, his grin widening.

you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed at his words.

then there was the moment that truly caught you off guard.

it was a late afternoon in the courtyard, and you were sitting with lily evans, enjoying the crisp autumn air. james, as usual, appeared out of nowhere, his hair even messier than usual.

“y/n,” he said loudly, dropping to one knee in front of you.

“what are you doing?” you asked, your eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“making a declaration,” he said, pulling a small flower out of his pocket. it was slightly squished, but the gesture was oddly sweet.

“oh, merlin,” lily muttered.

“y/n, will you do me the honor of..”

“potter, i swear to god—“

“-letting me carry your books for the rest of the week?” he finished, grinning as he held out the flower.

you couldn’t help it, you laughed. james potter, for all his arrogance and teasing, was nothing if not persistent.

“fine,” you said, taking the flower. “but just for this week.”

“that’s all i need,” he said, standing up and flashing you a triumphant grin.

as much as you hated to admit it, james potter was growing on you. and maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind being the center of his attention.

[singmyaubade]

Growing Pains

poly!marauders x female!reader

summary: you are in desperate need of a job, and the marauders are in desperate need of a babysitter, what's the worst that could happen?

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ | age gap between marauders & reader (not heavily identified) | reader is 21 + | mature language.

author's note: hello everyone! so i have multiple poly!marauder fics going on at this very moment (i know) but this was something that came to me and i thought it would be so cute to write since i never really dip my toes into this kind of normal au's. but please enjoy!

! divers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics !

Being unemployed right out of university was not part of your plan.

You knew that it wasn’t unusual to be unemployed after attending university, but you also had high expectations for yourself.

Originally, you were going to intern at your father’s law firm for a while just to get on your feet, while living in your own studio apartment, which he would pay for—his reward for you ‘stepping up’ straight out of university.

After that, you planned to gain some experience and then be able to work at an actual law firm—not just intern—and pay off your studio apartment on your own.

But, as usual, you and your father had gotten into a blown-out, heated argument about your future. All you had said was that you ‘wanted to do some writing on the side’ during dinner, and everything blew up when he claimed that ‘writing is unreliable and wouldn’t get you anywhere in life,’ which only pissed you off.

It ended with you saying some things you didn’t regret, but maybe should have, and him cutting you off financially, retracting the offer at his law firm.

Instead of groveling, you let your stubbornness take over, storming out and having to find somewhere to live as soon as possible.

Thankfully, your cousin, who had graduated a few years before you, was openly looking for a roommate and wasn’t charging a high rate. You took the offer immediately, but finding a job was a real pain in the ass.

Every place you tried to intern at said you didn’t have enough experience or was in competition with your father’s law firm.

And every place you applied to—whether it was as a barista, waitress, assistant, etc.—rejected you.

For no reason, might you add.

You were growing hopeless and severely depressed. Mary was finding it quite hard to comfort you lately, especially since you were holed up in your room, refusing to leave.

She didn’t even think you went out to use the bathroom.

So eventually, when you came out of your room for your 8 PM coffee, she confronted you.

“Y/N,” She sighed, looking at you as you wrapped yourself in a blanket, dark circles under your eyes. “I love you a lot, but I need you to bloody get it together!”

You groaned. “What do I have to live for if no one will hire me and I’m just unsuccessful?” You sulked. “I mean, I’m going to be living with you until you and Lily have kids!” You screeched, horrified.

Mary looked spooked. “I pray not,” She replied, walking over to you and cupping your cheeks in her hands. “You just need to have more faith in yourself—and maybe a little boost,” She said, letting go and sitting on the counter. “Which is why I got you that little boost and got you a job!” She said excitedly, grinning as you looked at her in shock.

“Wait, what?” You responded. “Doing what? And how?” You asked nervously as her grin widened.

“Well, it’s a full-time babysitting gig,” She said happily, swinging her legs.

“So, a nanny?” You asked, sounding a bit deflated.

“Well, unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll be living with them, but yeah, kind of,” She said, as you hummed.

“And you know the parents?” You asked hesitantly.

“Oh, like the back of my hand,” She said calmly as if your question was ridiculous.

“I mean, should I text them or anything? Or at least let them get to know me before I start babysitting for them?” You asked nervously.

Mary waved you off. “They’re really chill, they’ll love you,” She said happily as she hopped off the counter.

“Wait, but—” You tried to speak again, but Mary wasn’t having it.

“I’ll send you their address. You have to be there at 10 AM!” she yelled before heading to her room.

That wasn’t very informative.

You were never this nervous. You really didn’t want to mess this up. Your palms were sweaty, and you were worried they'd think something was wrong with you, maybe unfit to handle kids if you were this nervous over meeting the parents. And Mary hadn’t even bothered to give you any info about the family—no names, no details about their children.

What made it worse was that you couldn’t decide what to wear. You wanted something casual but presentable, something that said 'I’m approachable, but not a slob.'

You were pretty sure the wife wouldn't appreciate anything too scandolous, and a single dad might misread it.

You ended up choosing a red and green Christmas sweater, mom jeans, and Mary Jane’s—comfortable enough, you thought, to handle kids.

Unfortunately, your timing didn’t match. Without a car (since your dad had cut you off), you had to bike there. And to make matters worse, you’d burned your toast and didn’t have time to make more. You were late, pedaling as fast as you could, praying your GPS was right.

You finally arrived at a beautiful suburban house—exactly what you imagined when you thought of a family of four. The house had a neat front yard, a doormat, and was surrounded by well-kept homes. Taking a deep breath, you rang the doorbell and quickly checked your reflection. Your hair was a mess, but you didn't have time to fix it before the door swung open.

A man with black hair, a black button-up shirt, and tattoos on his arms greeted you. He was strikingly handsome with a charming smile. And.. great, you were already crushing on the dad.

"Hey, you must be Y/N, the babysitter Mary recommended," He said with a grin, extending his hand. "We were expecting you—come on in."

The house felt warm and homey, with photos of kids everywhere and Christmas decorations all over. Toys were scattered on the living room floor but not in a messy way—just lived in.

"Sorry about the mess," The man said, laughing and running a hand through his hair. "You’ve arrived during morning madness."

"Oh, it’s fine," You replied, feeling flustered. "The decorations are lovely."

"They kind of went overboard this year," He chuckled.

Before you could say anything else, another man entered the room—a tall, broad figure with light brown hair, wearing a white button-up shirt and brown slacks. Scars marked his face, but they somehow added to how pretty he was.

“Sirius,” The man grumbled, “I told you to tidy up an hour ago,” He sent an annoyed look his way,

"Remus," The new man said, extending a hand. "Apologies for the chaos. It’s never this untidy."

"Yes, it is," Sirius teased. Remus shot him a look, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

"It’s nice to meet you both," You said with a smile. "Your home is beautiful. It reminds me of my family’s place."

Remus looked relieved. "We’re glad to have you. Can I get you anything? A glass of water?" He asked.

"I think I’m fine," You answered kindly as Remus led you to the couch.

Sirius sat next to you, creating a situation where you were sandwiched between the two men. You felt a little nervous, but they looked extremely comfortable.

"So, Mary didn’t tell us much about you," Remus started.

"She just gave us your last name and I didn't think it would be kind to search you up," Sirius added.

You laughed nervously. "Yeah, she can be a bit mysterious for no reason."

Sirius noticed you fidgeting and put a hand on your knee. "We’re just happy to get to know you ourselves," He said with a kind smile.

"Well, ask me anything," You said, trying to calm your nerves.

"Anything?" Sirius asked with a teasing smile. You flushed, and Remus shot him a warning look.

"How old are you?" Remus asked.

"21," You answered.

"Ah, the responsible age," Sirius joked, "How has it been?" He asked, trying to make you more comfortable.

"It’s been good," You replied. "More responsibilities now, its been a bit hectic."

"Out of school?" Remus asked.

"Yeah, just finished," You said with a smile.

"What did you study?" He continued.

"Criminal Justice with a minor in Creative Writing."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Remus here is a bit of a writer himself."

You perked up. "Really?"

Remus chuckled. "Just write novels here and there."

"Which ones?" You asked eagerly, looking at him in excitement.

"Probably haven’t heard of them," Remus said, shrugging. "The Idea of the Unknown was one that was popular for a bit," He added casually, and your eyes widened.

"Wait, you wrote The Idea of the Unknown?" You asked in disbelief.

He laughed. "Yeah, that’s me."

He seemed completely nonchalant as he mentioned one of the books that had shaped your entire view on life. You were amazed by how humble he could be about it.

And then it clicked,

He was one of your all time favorite authors.

You almost fainted. "You’re the Remus Lupin?" You asked, excited.

"Surprised you know my work," He said. "I didn’t think your age group read my books."

"I love your books!" You exclaimed. "The story between Ophelia and Duke had me crying for weeks after the ending."

Remus smiled warmly. "I spent fifteen years perfecting that ending. Glad it made an impact."

"But we're glad you love his work," Sirius teased, a sly grin painting his face.

You blushed, mortified. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn this into a meet and greet. I swear I’m not a stalker."

Sirius laughed. "Honestly, this just makes us more sure about you. At least we know you have taste." He nudged your shoulder jokingly.

You felt a bit guilty for not asking more about their kids. "So, what are their names?"

You pointed to a picture of two kids—a boy with dark hair and hazel eyes, and a shy-looking girl with long brown hair. They were both in front of the Christmas tree with matching Rudolph pajamas as the boy smiled confidently in front of the camera and the little girl hid behind him.

"Harry is almost four—he’s a bit of a handful, but he’s brave. Ruby’s shy, but she’s a clever little thing." Remus says, "And don't be fooled by either of them, they love to prank people and be up to no good,"

"They’re both adorable," You said. "I’m sure I’ll love them."

Remus checked his watch. "Actually, they should be back from their walk about now."

And just as he said that, the door opened, and in came a tall man with glasses and black hair that was shorter than Sirius's, carrying Ruby on his back and with Harry hanging from his leg.

Yet another handsome man.

"Okay, go to your daddies," The man said, setting Ruby down. She rushed over to Sirius, while Harry went to Remus, peppering him with questions.

The man turned to you. "And who’s this?" He asked with a grin.

You felt your heart race. "I’m Y/N, the new babysitter," You said, extending a hand.

"James," He said, then surprised you by pulling you into a hug. "Nice to meet you."

Sirius laughed. "He’s a hugger." He picked up Ruby as she pulled on his long locks of hair, earning a pained groan from him as he put her back down, "Not nice," He jokingly pouted as he rubbed his head.

You were too busy by James's embrace to be fully locked on to the kids as his scent infiltrated your nose. James smelled like maple syrup and firewood, and it almost made you dizzy.

When he pulled back, he grinned. "We’re glad to have you."

"Yeah, we need a new face around here," Sirius added as Ruby shyly hid behind his legs.

"Come on, Ruby, say hello," James coaxed, looking at the little girl and nodding his head to you as she went towards you in a shy manner, "She won't bite," James added, trying to help.

You kneeled down to her level. "Unless you want me to," You joked, making her giggle.

"My name’s Y/N. What’s yours?"

"Ruby," She said quietly.

"That’s a pretty name," You said. "You’re pretty too."

Ruby smiled shyly, and you stood up to find a little Harry already approaching you.

"Do you have cookies?" He asked, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"Not yet," You laughed.

"Bwoo," Harry pouted, moving over to James as he picked him up.

"Looks like you’re going to be a good fit,"

[4m0r1m]

The Grin He Waited For

SUMMARY: Everyone just wanted to see her smile. He falls donw and gets a whole laugh out of her. How's that even possible??

PAIRING: james potter x reader

A/N: I'm really sorry foir making you guys wait so much foor another fic but I'm really getting stressed because of my finals. This is gonna be a little short but anyways I hope you like it!!

There was a certain type of warmth that clung to James Potter like a second skin—relentless, golden, loud. It was in his laugh, in the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, in how he practically bounced with energy when he walked into a room. James Potter didn’t enter places. He arrived. And whether you wanted to or not, you noticed.

You, however, were the opposite. Reserved. Quiet. Often mistaken for being rude, when in truth, you just didn’t see the need to exhaust energy on everyone. The Marauders, in particular, were always exhausting. Endearing, sure. But exhausting.

Sirius was chaos incarnate. Remus was observant and gentle, though a bit too fond of offering unsolicited advice. Peter tried too hard to be funny. And James—James was infuriatingly delightful. You didn’t like how easily he drew people in. You didn’t like how your chest warmed around him. But most of all, you didn’t like that no one could seem to make you smile… yet he managed to make you feel lighter just by being in the same room.

It had become a bit of a game. The others tried it all—Sirius with his pranks, Remus with his kindness, even Peter with his bumbling commentary. Each attempt to crack your stony demeanour ended in failure.

James never tried. Not once. He just carried on, laughing with Sirius, throwing apples at Peter’s head in the Great Hall, launching into Quidditch monologues that made absolutely no sense to you. And somehow, that made him more charming.

You had grown used to their presence in your orbit. Somehow, you were part of their strange little group, even if you didn’t speak much. You were the one who didn’t laugh. The one who rolled their eyes. The one who, by all accounts, simply existed alongside them.

Until the day James fell.

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

It was a Wednesday evening. Rain battered against the windows of the Gryffindor common room. A fire crackled gently in the hearth, filling the room with a low amber glow. You were curled up in an armchair, a blanket draped over your lap, eyes flicking across the pages of a thick book.

Sirius was doing impressions. Remus was half-listening, scribbling notes for an assignment. James and Peter were arguing over who would win in a broomstick race through the Forbidden Forest—James was, as usual, full of confidence.

“I’m telling you,” James was saying, hopping onto the arm of the sofa with one leg swung over, “if I’d had my broom that day, I’d have made it through that thicket in under a minute. Easy.”

Peter snorted. “You’d have flown straight into a tree.”

James puffed out his chest. “I’m nimble.”

You didn’t look up, but you were listening. You always listened when James talked, even if you pretended not to.

“I could do a flip right now and land on my feet,” James announced proudly.

“Go on, then,” Sirius egged, his grin wicked.

With the kind of misplaced confidence only James Potter possessed, he launched himself off the armrest with a ridiculous twist—

—and faceplanted directly into the carpet.

There was a thump, followed by a sharp “oof!” as he groaned into the floor.

The room fell silent.

You looked up.

And for the first time in a very long while… you snorted. Not a polite giggle. Not a stifled chuckle. A full, unfiltered snort.

Everyone’s heads whipped around.

“Did you just—?” Sirius blinked.

“Oh my god,” Remus murmured, eyes wide.

Peter looked like he’d seen a ghost.

But James… James was still lying flat on the rug. Slowly, he lifted his head, cheeks squashed and hair sticking out in all directions.

He met your gaze.

And then he smiled. That smile. Soft, genuine, adoring.

“There it is,” he breathed, as though he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. “The laugh.”

You felt heat crawl up your neck, eyes dropping to your lap. You tried to hide it—too late. The room erupted into laughter, but James’s voice was the only one that lingered in your ears.

That night, the teasing was relentless. Sirius looked ready to throw a party. Remus gave you a smug little nod. Peter kept whispering, “I thought you were incapable.”

But James didn’t say a word.

Not until later.

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

You were heading back down to the common room for a forgotten quill when you saw him sitting by the fire alone, glasses skewed, legs stretched out, a book open but unread in his lap.

He looked up as you entered.

“Hey,” he said softly.

You paused, unsure. “Hey.”

A beat passed. The fire crackled.

“I wasn’t trying to make you laugh,” James said, voice low and sincere.

“I know.”

“I mean—Sirius has a bet going, and the others are obsessed with seeing you smile, but me? I just wanted… I dunno. For you to want to laugh. For yourself.”

You looked at him, surprised. “You’ve really been waiting for that?”

He shrugged. “Not like… obsessively. But yeah. Kinda. It’s a good sound. Worth the wait.”

Your chest tightened in a way that was unfamiliar. Warm and aching and sweet all at once.

“James?” you asked.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for falling on your face.”

He laughed. “Anytime.”

You turned to leave, but then paused. You glanced over your shoulder, met his eyes, and let a small smile tug at the corner of your mouth.

Not a snort. Not a laugh.

But a smile.

And James Potter lit up like the sun was rising just for him.

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

The next day, Sirius tried three times to prank Filch just to impress you. Remus offered you a muffin he definitely hadn’t baked himself. Peter knocked over a goblet of pumpkin juice onto Snape’s robes.

You didn’t laugh.

But across the room, James caught your eye.

You smirked.

And he smiled back like it was a secret only the two of you shared.

You supposed, in a way, it was.

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

[megwritesriddles]

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

[petriwriting]

Dad!Theodore Nott Headcanons

Theodore Nott would be by your side through everything.

Pregnancy cravings? He's already one step ahead.

If you need a foot rub, back rub, chocolate bar, pickles (or literally anything) he's very patient and will help you however he can.

Deep down he doesn't care about "Continuing his Legacy" he just wants a family to take care of, and he would separate his family's reputation from the one he chose.

Would probably be a stay at home dad.

If he wasn't a stay at home dad, I could see him working with harry as an auror. He would provide.

Would stay up caring for your baby until he physically couldn't stay awake any longer.

He would immediately be so so in love with his child.

Extremely over-protective of his partner and children.

He was an only child, so he'd want more than one child.

With his luck, he'd have all daughters.

You have a baby girl. He's enamored, a crying mess.

He would love his daughter so so so much.

You'd insist he name his daughter after his mother.

Would absolutely spoil the hell out of his daughter. anything she wanted.. he would find a way.

He would prioritize spending time with his daughter, usually tea parties, or pretending to be a princess. He loved it because his own father never spent any time with him.

You'd come home and his nails would be painted, and he'd be wearing a tiara, with your daughter asleep in his lap.

Teaching his daughter to be gentle and kind at an early age, since he didn't learn that until much later in life.

Always joking that your daughters future partner better not fucking break her heart. but lol hes actually so serious..

Family trips to Italy and around europe.

His daughter would have his dark curls.

Being so excited for her to start at hogwarts.

Blood status didn't matter, neither did her hogwarts house. He would be proud no matter where she ended up.

Spending a very special morning with your daughter as a family the morning before school started, Theo would cook an amazing breakfast.

Theo would absolutely cry on the platform as the train leaves.

If you had a second child, its the same thing. He gives his all and loves endlessly and deeply. He would give his kids the love he never got as a child.

He would be an amazing father, caring, gentle and attentive. He would die for his kids.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Away (Part 2)

Regulus Black AU

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: T- mentions of abuse

Summary: Growing up in abusive homes has finally reached its breaking point. Regulus comes to run away with you in the middle of the night. Its time for a new life.

Link to Part 1

Link to AO3

____

An hour later, you stood outside of what must have been Sirius’ home. You weren't sure how Regulus had found the address. In the time that Sirius had been gone from the Black family, Regulus never uttered his brother’s name. Something told you that it wasn’t out of anger from Sirius’ departure. It was probably to keep himself safe. That made sense now.

“Regulus, what are we going to tell him?”

You asked. Regulus stood staring at the door. He was nervous about facing his brother but didn’t understand why. Regulus never blamed Sirius for leaving. He was a little moody that Sirius didn’t take him with him when he left but he understood Sirius’ reasoning. Sirius didn’t have a safe place for Regulus to tag along to. He also couldn’t ask the Potters to take in two children unexpectedly.

“The truth. He’s my brother. He’ll understand.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

You questioned. While you never had an issue with Sirius, you were unsure if he would be willing to entertain the idea of letting the two of you stay. Would you be putting him in an uncomfortable position? Would you be asking too much?

Regulus squeezed your hand.

“Then we will figure something out. Please don’t worry. You know that I will never let anything happen to you.”

“I know that, love.”

You replied as Regulus knocked on the door.

“It will be fine.”

Regulus murmured as the door opened.

Sirius’ mouth dropped the moment that he saw the two of you. Clearly, this was the LAST thing that he ever expected to happen.

“Regulus? Y/n?”

Sirius was stunned, to say the least. He thought after leaving to go to the Potter’s, his brother wanted nothing to do with him. Now here he stood…with an extremely bruised face.

Regulus took a breath before speaking.

“Hi, Sirius. We need your help.”

Sirius continued to stare stupidly at Regulus for a few moments before remembering that he could speak.

“Come inside.”

He managed to get out before moving out of the way. Sirius’ eyes dropped to Regulus’s hand that was still wrapped around yours.

Good. They are still together.

You were one of the few things that Sirius was glad Regulus held onto. If there could be one good thing in Regulus’ life you were it. You were the good example that Regulus needed to follow.

Sirius led the two of you into a small sitting room where Remus sat with a book on his lap. When he noticed Regulus and yourself step in, he automatically frowned and closed said book.

Regulus was no fool. He knew that Remus saw his face. That was going to be the topic of discussion until the bruising healed and he looked normal again.

“Okay, what in the hell is going on? What happened to your face?”

Sirius asked, sitting down on the arm of the couch beside Remus. Regulus sighed.

“I think you know what happened to my face.”

Sirius was on his feet in an instant and began pacing. He was totally enraged! Walburga was hitting Regulus again. Sirius had hoped that since he left, his parents would use that as a reason to treat Regulus better. Clearly, that was not the case.

“Why is she hitting you?”

Regulus shrugged. He hated that he had to say this in front of you. He knew that you probably had a feeling but that didn't make saying it in your presence any easier.

“Mum doesn’t approve of Y/n. I told her that I wasn’t going to give her up to marry some dolt that they picked out for me. After that…she really let me have it.”

Your hand tightened around Regulus’.

"If I didn’t hate Walburga before. I have a reason now.”

You thought as Sirius ran a hand through his hair.

“There is nothing wrong with Y/n. The two of you have been together since you were fucking 12. I couldn’t have picked a better girl for you. She has made you less…Black family like. I should go over and beat the hell out of dad and see how they like it.”

You gave Sirius a thankful smile as he continued on a rage filled tangent for a few moments. Regulus waited a moment before speaking. He knew that Sirius would be angry. If there was another thing that Regulus could give his brother credit for it was his protective nature. It didn’t matter how old Regulus was, Sirius always kept a protective eye on him.

“That is why I married her.”

Silence filled the room. Sirius had stopped his raging and fell back down onto the couch while Remus’ mouth dropped again. Remus was the first to speak this time.

“How did you marry her? The two of you are 16 years old. “

Regulus groaned.

“We lied! You don’t grow up in the Black family without stretching the truth on something.”

Remus muttered “oh shit” under his breath while Sirius moved to the edge of the couch.

“The two of you are 16.”

“Yes, we know.”

Regulus replied.

“What do either of you know about being married? What if you change your mind?”

“We won’t.”

Regulus again replied. Sirius took a breath.

“What do you want me to say?”

Regulus held his hands up.

“I wanted you to know. I would have felt silly just showing up and not saying anything! Look, I married Y/n because I love her. If she and I are married, mum and dad won’t be able to split us up. I’m not going to change my mind and neither is Y/n. We will both be legal in a few months. I know it may sound crazy to you two but to us it felt right. I had to keep Y/n safe too. Her dad is as bad as mum. I couldn’t stand by anymore and see her being hurt.”

Sirius looked between Regulus and yourself with a sad expression. This was another thing that he didn’t see coming. He didn’t expect Regulus to get married until he was made to. Whether it be to you or someone else, Regulus wasn’t one to step outside of his comfy little bubble that he made for himself.

Remus stopped his pacing and turned to face the two of you.

“You both realize how serious this is, right? Not only serious, but it will be difficult. Most marriages that start this young won’t last. Statistically…”

Regulus immediately cut Remus off.

“I know the statistics but we will be different. I simply need the two of you to have some faith in us. I also need help staying safe from mum and dad…not only mum and dad…”

Sirius frowned again.

“Who else is there?”

Regulus pressed his lips together.

“There is more that I haven’t told you. The death eaters have been trying to recruit me for some time now. You know there are only so many times that you can say no to those people.”

Regulus ignored the look of pain on your face. He hadn’t exactly told you about the death eaters trying to recruit him. You weren’t surprised. With the way the Blacks supported Voldemort and all of the dark magic Regulus knew it was only a matter of time. The dark lord probably saw a load of potential in Regulus…a potential that you didn’t want to think of.

Sirius was on his feet again.

“Nope, you aren’t going back. No way in hell are you going back…fuck it. I’ll go tell mum that she can take a toaster to the bathtub. Neither of you are going back to this shit.”

Remus nodded in agreement. He had a dark feeling that the dark lord would, at some point, find something good in Regulus. Remus has only been hoping that he would be wrong.

“The two of you can stay here. It would only make sense.”

You decided it was your time to speak. From the moment that Regulus had come to whisk you away, you had felt that your life was spiraling. You needed to regain some control.

“We can help too with whatever you have going on. We don’t want to be part of the problem that is happening in our world.”

Sirius nodded.

“The two of you are adult enough to get married so I think you are old enough to make a decision on who you support. I will warn you that it isn’t always easy…sometimes it's dangerous.”

“You can’t stop a madman sitting at home knitting a scarf.”

You replied. Sirius focused his attention back on your hand. Right away he noticed the engagement ring that his grandmother had specifically given to Regulus.

“No, you can’t. What is going to happen when your parents come looking for the two of you. Are you going to say that you love each other and that's what it's all about?”

You smirked at your now brother-in-law.

“No, that is the hokey pokey. We’ll figure it out when it happens. You made it when you ran away. I think we will be able to also.”

Sirius wanted to argue. He wanted to say that he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Walburga and Orion would probably put up more of a fight for Regulus. Sirius always felt like he was the “practice” kid while Regulus was the son that they had always wanted. Regulus was the one that they seemed to not make most of the same mistakes with.

Regulus focused his attention back on his brother while absentmindedly stroking his thumb over your palm.

“I don’t care what mum and dad have to say. I will do whatever I can to keep us safe.”

Sirius was satisfied enough with that response. It appeared that Regulus was not being selfish. He was no longer the arrogant self-absorbed child that he used to be. It appeared that he had finally grown up.

“One question?”

Sirius asked as Regulus turned back to him.

“Yes?

“Is she pregnant?”

Both Regulus and yourself shook your heads. That was one of the LAST things that you even wanted to think of. Children had been something that you had discussed with Regulus. At the time, that was something that neither of you were interested in.

“We can barely take care of ourselves. It would be foolish to even think of such a thing.”

You commented.

“I don’t even like kids.”

Regulus added. While he didn’t mind taking care of you, the thought of another being so dependent on him for every small thing sounded absolutely miserable. He also didn’t want to entertain the thought of losing his precious sleep. Being up in the middle of the night with some angry human screaming at you while you were sleep-deprived was a horror that Regulus didn’t even want to entertain.

Both Sirius and Remus were relieved to hear that.

“Well, you are the responsible one.”

Sirius commented before leaning back into the couch. For the first time in a while, he was feeling somewhat better with the events happening.

“It's settled then. The two of you can stay here. You can stay as long as you would like.”

“Thank you.”

Regulus said as Remus turned to the doorway.

“Come on. I’ll show you to the guest room.”

Once the three of you were out of the room, Sirius ran a hand over his face feeling even more exhausted. He hated knowing that the two of you were having to grow up so fast but, unfortunately, it was just another sign of the times.

“Well, he’s not a little boy anymore.”

(meanwhile at Grimmauld Place)

Walburga sat in her sitting room, stirring a cup of tea. She was seething in anger after the altercation with Regulus.

Just what does he think he is doing falling in love with some halfblood? That boy was raised better. He knows better than to associate with scum. I’ll just have to beat it out of him. I can break him.

Walburga thought coldly. While she adored her youngest son, she was not about to let him throw his life away for a woman not worthy of him. She would not sit back and watch a half blood leach onto the family name and fortune. The family had worked too long and too hard to deviate from their Toujours Pur motto.

Why the men in this family must be so weak is beyond me.

She thought coldly. Men in the Black family being “weak” had been Walburga’s soapbox for a long time. From her brother Alphard to even her husband, Walburga constantly called the lot of them weak. Now, her baby was even stepping into that thought process.

Like his useless weakling of a father, he can’t say no to a pretty face.

Walburga was certain that she could find Regulus a suitable pureblood girl to marry. He didn’t have to love her. Regulus could hate her for all Walburga cared. He did, however, have a role to complete. Since her blood traitor of a son left the family, everything fell on Regulus. Walburga had a strange feeling anyway that Regulus would be the one to complete everything anyway.

“Walburga?”

Her brooding was interrupted when Orion stepped into her sitting room. Glaring at her husband, Walburga didn’t like when her “me time” was interrupted.

“What is it?”

She snapped. Orion immediately rolled his eyes. Why he put up with so much from this bitch of a woman was still a mystery of itself.

Oh, right. I have to.

Orion thought coldly before speaking.

“I was curious, did you let Regulus go out after we told him that he was to stay home?”

Walburga frowned.

“I told him to stay in his room until he was ready to admit that he was wrong and wanted to apologize. Why do you ask?”

Orion shrugged.

“I just came from his room and he isn’t there.”

Walburga’s typical frown intensified as she got up and started for the stairs.

“Regulus!”

She screeched his name as she practically kicked the door open. Walburga had been hoping that Orion was simply not opening his eyes properly and Regulus would be sitting on his bed. Unfortunately, it appeared that her head was right.

Inside Regulus’ room, everything was just as it had been. The bed was neatly made and all of Regulus’ belongings in orderly places. The only thing missing was Regulus himself.

Walburga walked around the room looking for any signs of her youngest son’s whereabouts. Finding nothing, Walburga turned to scowl at Orion.

“Have you checked the rest of the house?”

Again Orion rolled his eyes. This was yet another reason why he absolutely hated the woman that he was married to. She was downright ignorant. Walburga seemed to take pride in trying to make him feel as dumb as she was but always failed miserably.

“If you think that I am too stupid to take the initiative to look all over the house before I come to check with you then you are most welcome to scour the house yourself. I’ll be in my study when you discover that I am correct in my assessment that Regulus is missing.”

Walburga growled before shouting Kreacher’s name. A moment passed before the old house elf popped into the room.

“You called, my mistress?”

Walburga turned to the elf.

“Kreacher, where is Regulus?”

Kreacher looked hesitant for a moment. He knew exactly what Regulus was doing and didn’t want to out him. Kreacher knew, sadly, he had no choice but to tell Walburga the truth.

“Master Regulus has left. He said that he was leaving. Master Regulus didn’t exactly say where.”

Kreacher decided to slightly embellish that he didn’t know where Regulus was going. He knew. Kreacher had seen Regulus take the engagement ring from the desk drawer. If Regulus was going anywhere, it was to you.

Walburga stood motionless for a moment before screaming. Both Kreacher and Orion jumped slightly. Neither party was expecting that loud of a noise so suddenly.

Neither said anything for a few moments as Walburga stood stewing in her rage. Walburga immediately stomped over to the desk where the engagement ring lay. She hoped that she was wrong but something told her to check on her mother’s ring.

Pulling the drawer open, Walburga felt around until a small velvet box touched her fingertips. She quickly pulled the box out and opened it. Just as she suspected, there was nothing in the box. Her mother’s ring was gone just like her youngest child.

“He took the ring.”

“What ring?”

Orion questioned as Walburga turned. She glared at him as if he was the single most stupid being on the earth. Throwing the empty box at her husband’s chest, Walburga started yelling at Orion again.

“My mother’s ring, you fool! The engagement ring that she left Regulus is gone! He has probably taken it and ran off with that half blood bitch!”

___

@millies0bsimp @geeksareunique @knreidy1 @jessyballet @fific7 @@teletubiswszpilkach @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @dumbbunnys-safes @dumybitch @readtomeregulus @i-love-scott-mccall @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @s-we-e-t-t-ea @iluvthe-marauders @woohoney @abaker74 @regulus-black-223048 @saramaple @missgorldafirst @stelleduarte @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @bennyberry @f4iryluvy @panpride @haroldpotterson @mentally-unstable-hoe @goldensunshineshit @padf00ts-l0ver @saramaple @goldensunshineshit @ravenhood2792 @playmore-zeppelin @authoressskr @emiwrites3reads @knight-of-gleefulness @rogue-nyx88 @shaylybaby2032 @coffeeaddictednymph @livshifts @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ad-astra-again @regulusblackswhorecrux @kindestofkings @criminalyetminimal @rubes-xoxo @untoldshortsofthefandoms

[moonyysgirl]

reader asking soft!remus (isn't even a DOM mostly) to go rough with her when the full moon nears but he's like 'nooo baby i could never use you like that or degrade you' but she's BEGGING him to let go and then bam four hours later she's almost regretting her decisions. almost.

and then he's back to soft cutipie remus

omg waittt this is so good! thanks sm for the request, hope you like it😘😘 pairings: remus x fem!reader cw; smut, rough!dom remus, slight degradation kink, overstimulation

Knee socks - Remus x Reader

Remus was sweet, so sweet. And most of the time you really loved it. His sweetness was the thing that made you fall for him in the first place after all, and you wouldn't trade it for nothing in the world...but.

But sometimes, especially when the full moon was near, you could feel that there was a different force in him. While he usually never took control during sex, during those times he would get more dominant and rough.

But he'd restrain himself, and even if you wanted him to go rougher on you, and you could sense that he wanted that, he would stop himself. You tried telling him to get faster, rougher. But he just couldn't bring himself to. He'd caress your cheek with his trembling hand "I don't want to hurt you baby, I'll go slower" he would mumble in your ear.

And while that made you melt, that made you also sigh in frustration, because you liked that more dominant side of Remus, and you wanted him to embrace it sometimes, just so you could explore it more. You tried to tell him that.

A couple of days after the last full moon, you told him that you could tell he was being tense during sex the last time. "You know you can go rougher if you feel like it" you suggested "you can take control, if you want...I'd like that" you whispered.

Remus immediately blushed, he shook his head. "Baby...come on" he teased, half jokingly "you know I could never" you sighed "I'm not saying you should do something that makes you uncomfortable..it's just-be yourself okay?" Remus smiled condescendingly "baby, don't worry...I could never hurt you" you smiled back, he really was clueless.

As the next full moon was approaching, you decided to take the matter into your own hands. If Remus didn't want to let go, you would make him. You made sure that it had passed some time since the last time you had sex: you waited as much as possible, to make the sexual tension between the two of you grow.

You went to his dorm while he was in the library, after making sure that Sirius and James would be at quidditch practice for the whole afternoon. You wore the last year's uniform, the one that got a little too tight, too much for school 's dress code, but just enough to hug your figure in all the right places.

The skirt was short, shorter than it should have, and you had your knee socks, the one that you knew -even without him saying so- made Remus lose his mind. He would always fidget with the hem of those damn socks, and when you wore them he always found some excuses to get his hands on your thighs.

So you sat on his unmade bed, waiting for him. You knew he'd finish tutoring at half past three. You looked at the watch, he'd be there in ten minutes max. You started going through some homework while you waited, and when you heard him climb up the stairs you smiled, your heart beat increasing.

Remus stumbled inside. He jumped, immediately noticing you, "Baby...you scared the shit out of me" he smiled. He looked so damn hot. His shaggy hair were messily covering his forehead. His shirt was unbottoned, the sleeves rolled on his elbows, his tie hanging loosely from the collar.

He took the schoolbag off from his shoulder. "What a beautiful surprise" he smiled untying his tie, throwing the school bag on the floor. You giggled, as he took off his shoes and got on the bed, crawling next to you.

"Is it my birthday or something?" he said, kissing you, caressing your thighs, "no, it's just that I know you've been feeling kinda tense lately...for the full moon and everything, you know.." Remus snickered "right..." you smiled maliciously "so I just thought we could do something to take the edge off"

Remus blushed, but he was smiling "mhhh...I see...and what did you had in mind?" you laughed, your hands caressing his back "I don't know...I just think, that maybe, it'll be good to unwind for you" he kissed you "that's a good idea"

You grinned getting on top of him "Rem" you whispered to his ear "I want you to let go this time" you felt his body tense up under yours, his fingers pressing on your waist, his breath hitching "just do whatever you want to me" you whispered, your core getting warmer, your face getting flushed.

"Are you sure?" Remus whispered on your mouth, you closed your eyes, and nodded "baby I don't want to hurt you" he repeated, his hands caressing you "Rem, I promise you, just go rough on me, please" you felt his breath stop for a second. His grip on your waist got immediately tighter as he took you by it and switched positions with you. Your breath hitched for the force of his grip.

You looked at him, he was grinning, his pupils blown up, making his hazel eyes look dark. "You have no idea of what you just got yourself into do you?" he said softly, his fingers trailing down your thighs. You bit your lip, excited, shaking in anticipation, slightly scared.

Before you could do anything Remus was unbuttoning your shirt with rushed fingers, tugging your skirt down. He sat up to admire your half naked figure, you blushed as his dark eyes wandered on you. You tried to take your socks off but Remus stopped you "these stays on" he grinned before crashing his lips onto yours.

He kissed you sloppily, roughly, while his skilled hands unclasped your bra and pulled it off. He kissed your neck, sucking the soft skin, trailing kisses down the column of your throat, your shoulders, your tits. He sucked them, making you whine in pleasure. He sat up again, looking at you.

"Look at you" he caressed your cheek "already so desperate for me" you blushed, covering your face, surprised by Remus' words, flustered. "Don't act like you don't like when I talk dirty to you" he continued, stroking your inner thigh "I know you baby" he said "I know you're a dirty little slut" you whimpered.

Remus forced your squirming legs open with his big hands. He moved your panties to the side, and unexpectedly shoved two finger inside of you, without warning, the pain was stingy, but it felt so good. You moaned loudly "oh baby, you're soaked" he cooed, he started pumping his fingers in and out of you "so tight" he mumbled, making you squirm.

"Don't you dare close those legs" he said, his tone suddenly authoritarian, making your guts fill with butterflies. He started to pick up his pace, going faster and faster, soft whimpers and moans started falling from your lips "you're such a desperate little slut" you moaned loudly "you like it huh? when I call you slut?" his fingers were rough, pumping through your wet folds "cause you know you are".

As he got impossibly faster, you started feeling your climax approach. You bucked your hips into Remus' fingers "what is it?" Remus reached for your chin with his hand, caressing your lower lip "are you gonna cum already, slut?" he said softly, his thumb pressed on your lower lip "open up for me baby", you whined, your mouth opening, sucking his thumb.

"Is that it? Cumming already?" you nodded desperately, your thighs squirming together "look at you, all desperate for me" the knot in your stomach started to tighten "a desperate little mess" he mumbled, his eyes wandering on you, his thumb pressing on your tongue.

Remus sighed "alright, cum for me, come on" you shivered, squirming again. Remus forced your legs open with his knee, pressing it on your thigh. You moaned obscenely "come on, come on, come on" Remus encouraged you, and as his thumb went to circle your clit that knot finally snapped, and a wave of pleasure washed over you, making your scream, your eyes rolled back.

"Oh baby, you're so hot" he cooed "throwing that head off, shaking for me" you whimpered, shaking slightly as you slowly came down from your high. You were still lightheaded and your legs were shaking. Remus tugged your panties dow , taking them off "these are soaked" he scoffed. You breathed heavily, your heart was pounding in your chest.

Remus sat on his knees again, and watched you shiver on the mattress, your naked body exposed, your socks the only thing remaining on you. Remus started caressing you, your stomach, your waist, your thighs and your arms. You looked at him, his gaze was soft. You reached for his hair, brushing them lightly.

Remus sighed, his lips curved into a grin "okay baby, open those legs for me" you looked at him confused, your legs still twitching from the orgasm "what?" Remus bit his lips, then he took his shirt off, and tugged his pants and boxer down, his hard dick springing out, swollen and red.

You watched him tower over you in a mixture of fear and excitement. Remus caressed your thighs slowly, then he gripped them with his hands, forcing them open. Your breath hitched, Remus ran his dick through your slick folds, collecting your arousal, making you twitch. "So sensitive still" he aligned his tip with your entrance. You whimpered when he got inside, his length filled you completely, making your knees weak.

He started slowly, your heart was pounding in your chest, your core was getting impossibly warmer, as he started to increase his pace, you couldn't help but moan loudly "you like that slut?" you whined, your hands covering your flustered face. Remus grabbed your wrists forcefully, restraining them over your head, making you unable to move.

"Don't you dare hide from me" a strangled moan fell from your lips, Remus grinned "look at you, breaking under me" he got faster and faster, as your legs started shaking in overstimulation "oh god" you whined. Remus scoffed "what, are you gonna cum again? already?" he teased, rolling his eyes condescendingly. You nodded "oh baby, you really are a desperate slut then"

You squirmed at his words "and you like being degraded" he grinned, his hand leaving your wrist to grab your tits, pinching your nipple, you whimpered, squirming again "you like that huh?" you bit your lip, he pinched it harder, you hissed "you're such a pain slut" you moaned, Remus' lips curved into a cocky grin.

"Are you gonna cum for me?" he grabbed your thighs, pushing them to the sides of your body, your knees almost touching your ears, he kept pumping in and out of you viciously, you nodded "say please" he said, you looked at him half smiling, but he didn't look like he was joking.

He looked at you with lust-filled eyes, his hair stuck to his forehead in sweaty strands, you tried reaching for his hair, but he grabbed your wrist "nuh uh, you have to beg" you bit your lips, your cheeks were flushed, your heart was beating in your ears. "Come on, beg or I'm not making you cum" your breath hitched.

You sighed "p-please" you said, your voice slightly shaking "I can't hear you" "please" you repeated, "is that all you got? You don't really want to cum then" he said, his hand reaching down to your clit. As he started circling it sloppily, jolts of pleasure sent electricity down your spine.

You moaned again "I'm not making you cum if you don't beg" your head was spinning, and you didn't think you could resist any longer, so you just put the embarrassment aside and gave in "please, Rem, please let me cum" you cried, Remus scoffed "look at you, so desperate, all you care about is coming, all you care about is making a mess" "please, please Rem please" you whined, as tears started spilling from your eyes.

"Oh baby, are you gonna cry?" he cooed "you're pathetic" you whimpered, your lower lip was quivering, Remus sighed "you really are a pathetic mess" you couldn't resist anymore "Rem please!" you whined again, loudly, desperate. Remus rolled his eyes "alright, cum for me slut".

Those words were enough to send you over the edge. You came with a strangled moan, as a white wave of pleasure took over you. Your body was shaking uncontrollably, as Remus kept you in place, pumping in and out slowly, helping you come down from your high.

Your ears were ringing when you reopened your eyes. Remus was looking at you biting his lip, his eyes dark, dangerous, your heart skipped a beat, he looked almost menacing. You were trying to regulate your breath when Remus finally come out of you. He caressed your cheek, as his smile slowly shifted to a wolfish grin. He trailed his hands down your waist, then his grip tightened around it. "It's my turn now" he groaned, before flipping you on your stomach. Your breath hitched and your heart skipped a beat, as Remus took you by the hips.

"Ass up for me" you were still shaken for the last orgasm, and you didn't know if you could handle another one "but Rem-" you tried to say "shut the fuck up" he interrupted you abruptly. He pressed his hand on your back, making you arch. "Be a good girl for me" he mumbled, aligning his cock with your entrance again.

He slide in with a loud groan, you whimpered, his length filling you up. "Oh god" you whined. Before you could even adjust, Remus was already pounding into you mercilessly. "Rem-oh my god" "I told you to shut the fuck up" he groaned again, pushing your head to the mattress with a hand.

He grabbed your wrist with the other, bending your arms behind your back, restraining you completely. "You're a desperate slut" he groaned, while pumping his dick in and out of you at a mind numbing pace. "You wanted to be treated like one? Here you go then" he said, groaning and whining.

You could hear the sound of his hips snapping into you again and again, without ever slowing down, without ever stopping. At that point you were a babbling mess, unable to form any coherent thoughts. "Say it" he groaned, tugging your hair.

He grabbed you by them, pulling you to his body. Your threw your head back, falling on his shoulder, your eyes were rolling in your skull, as he kept pounding into you. "Say you are my slut" "I'm your slut" you mumbled, barely able to form words. "Oh you're such a sloppy mess" he spewed, grabbing your face.

"I fucked you dumb huh?" he cooed, squeezing your cheeks together. You moaned, as drool started dripping from the sides of your mouth. "Jesus christ, look at that" he scoffed "I never saw such a desperate dirty little slut before" you whined.

Remus hand found your clit again, and when he started rubbing it you felt your mind going completely blank. At that point you were nothing more than a whining mess, blabbering whimpers and moans.

"Who would've thought, that I could fuck you into this desperate mindless little mess" you couldn't even respond anymore, as moans and whines were the only thing leaving your mouth. Remus got impossibly faster, in a way you couldn't even believe was possible.

Your ears were ringing, your body was shaking, as you limped on him, unable to even keep your eyes open. Tears started spilling from your eyes again, and as Remus became inhumanly faster and rougher you started crying in overstimulation, as you felt like your entire body was on fire.

"Rem-ohmygod" you sobbed, your eyes rolling back. "Oh fuck" he groaned, his grip around your wrists got tighter, your elbows were starting to hurt "oh fuck, oh fuck" he repeated. His circles on your clit became sloppy, and as you felt his body tense behind you, you finally let go.

And as he snapped his hips against you one last time, hard, Remus finally let go too, coming with a loud whine, as your mind went blank, and your entire body was washed by a wave of pleasure, your orgasm so intense that you saw stars, almost feeling like fainting.

You both fell on the bed breathless and drenched in sweat. You couldn't move, you felt so weak: your entire body was shaking, and your vision was only then slowly coming back. When you finally came down from the orgasm, you turned to look at Remus. He was a mess too, his hair shaggy and sweaty, his cheeks red, his breath heavy.

He turned to you too. You watched his hazel eyes light up as his lips curved into his sweet smile, that signature smile you knew to well, that smile that made you melt. You immediately felt your chest fill with warmth, as your cheeks blushed.

Remus brought a hand to your cheek, he dried your tears, brushed your hair from your face gently. "Was I too rough?" he asked, suddenly the Remus you knew was back. You couldn't help but smile. "You were perfect" you crashed your lips onto his. Remus laughed "you're the best" he said, his eyes filled with love, while tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You smiled, resting your head on his chest, hugging him tightly. "Oh baby" he mumbled, caressing your shoulder "I love you so much" he said, his tone making your heart flutter. He reached for the crumpled sheets from under him, covering your shaking body gently. He took you in his arms, caressing your messy hair softly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You fell asleep like this, feeling safe, feeling loved.

And when James and Sirius came back from practice they found you and Remus like that, in the tightest embrace, barely covered by the tangled sheets, drenched in the golden syrupy light of the late afternoon. They shook their heads laughing, elbow-bumping each other. But they didn't have the heart to wake you up, cause you guys looked so beautiful, so happy, and so in love.

[moonstruckme]

hi angel!! can you please write a fic with sirius x shy reader where she meant to be going out with sirius and his friends where some girls who have previously liked him and shes feeling nervous/insecure about what they'll think of her so she drinks a bit for liquid courage and later on sirius takes care of her listening to her drunk babbling and reassuring her? thanks lovely!!

Thank you <3

cw: intoxication, feelings of inadequacy, some mature implications but nothing happens

Sirius Black x shy!reader ♡ 1.2k words

The thing is, Mary is really lovely. She’s sweet, bubbly, gregarious. One of those people who makes you feel in on the joke. And she’s beautiful, so you can understand why Sirius dated her. They must have been a perfect match. 

You, you need three gin fizzes before you can even begin to match Mary’s natural congeniality. Not to mention the rest of Sirius’ friends. They’re a fun, chattery bunch, each clever and funny and entertaining in their own individual but reliable ways. Your packed corner booth covers so many topics so quickly it makes your head spin. 

You find some solace in the women’s toilets. White fluorescent lights that bring attention to the makeup smudged just underneath your eyes, it’s here that you realize you may have overdone it. You look at yourself in the mirror as you release a slow breath, listening to the laughter outside the door from within your little bubble of quiet. 

When you force yourself to go back out, Sirius is waiting. 

“Hi.” Your liquid courage seems to abandon you without the rowdy pub atmosphere to bolster it. This is just you and Sirius in a dim hallway, your boyfriend’s smile igniting a familiar warmth in his eyes and nervous flutter in your gut. “I could’ve found my own way back,” you say. 

“I didn’t think you couldn’t.” Sirius steps into your space, hand on your waist as he presses his lips to yours gently. “I just wanted a chance to do that without getting loads of shit for it.” 

You smile. “There would have been booing,” you agree. 

“Oh, definitely. James would’ve pretended to be sick.” 

You rest your forehead on his shoulder. Selfishly, you want to keep the both of you here a little while longer. Sirius seems to understand this, his hand drawing back and forth over the sliver of skin between your trousers and the back of your shirt lazily. 

“Mary had to leave,” he says, “but she threatened me with all sorts of vile things if I didn’t give you her number. She wants you to have coffee sometime.” 

“That’s nice,” you hum, really extraordinarily pleased. “Why’d she have to go?” 

“She forgot she was supposed to meet a friend at ten.” 

You smile ruefully. That sounds exactly like a girl like Mary. Her only flaw is that she has too many people who wish for her company and not enough time to devote to them all. 

Sirius smells nice. Like clove and nighttime, and a little bit like the greasy chips James ordered for the table. You imagine you smell like gin and fizz. You mumble your question into the neckline of his shirt, so that the warmth of your breath warms the cotton and Sirius makes a confused tsking sound. 

“I can’t hear you when you talk like that, baby,” he says, encouraging you away from him with a hand on your cheek. You look up at him through heavy lashes. 

“Have I embarrassed you?” you murmur. 

Sirius looks like he’s going to laugh. You won’t be able to take it if he does, you think. You’ll have to lose Mary’s number as well as his and move across town. 

“What?” His voice is amused, brows raised. “No, you haven’t. Not at all. Why would you think that?” 

You shrug, embarrassed. “There’s makeup under my eyes.” 

“Is there?” Sirius’ smile grows. He adjusts his hold on your face, licking the pad of his thumb. “I didn’t notice, but we can’t have that, can we? Hold still.” 

You don’t hold still, shying away the first time he reaches for you. But Sirius understands that it’s not him you’re trying to get away from; he’s patient and diligent, wiping beneath your lashes with careful touches. You feel hot from the tips of your ears down to your chest. 

“There. Perfect as ever before.” He plants a smiling kiss on your lips. “Is that all, lovely?” 

“I think I’ve maybe had too much.” 

Concern touches the space between Sirius’ brows. “Are you not feeling well?” 

“No, I just—well, no one else had as much. I feel like they can tell I’m faking.” 

Sirius is frowning properly now. Inadequacy rings baldly in your tone. His thumb strokes down your cheek. “Faking what?” he asks you. 

“Being good at this,” you murmur.

“You are good at this.” He seems defensive, as if you’re discussing his shortcomings and not your own. “You don’t—there’s no one way you have to be. Sweetheart, I want you here because I want my friends to meet you. It sort of defeats the purpose if you’re putting on someone else for them to meet.” 

“I just—okay. I’m not jealous of Mary. That’s not what this is.” You’re talking a bit too fast, drink lubricating your throat so near anything seems likely to come out. “But I can see how you two would have worked together, and how she works with your friends—she fits in. Everyone’s so fun, and you’re all fast with your jokes, and I’m, I’m not that. I can try, but I think…” Your voice quiets. “I’m not very good at it.” 

As you’re talking, Sirius’ eyes are narrowing. He’s brazen in his thoughtfulness, seeming to size you up while he listens. Whatever audacity is left in you sputters out under the weight of that look. 

“Can I tell you something?” he asks after a moment.

You hum softly. 

“I don’t know how you’ve not managed to pick up on this, because I haven’t been trying for subtlety” —he draws you closer by your waist, until you’re nearly stepping on his toes— ”but I think you’re perfect. Really. You can go out there and ask anyone at our table, they’ll tell you I’ve been saying it since a week after we met. Marlene would probably love to tell you, actually, she found it rather irritating.” 

You look down at his throat, but Sirius encourages your chin back up with his finger. “You’re fun,” he says. “You’re loads of fun. And you’re just as quick with jokes—actually, you’re loads funnier than Remus, though you can’t tell him I said that.” 

“Sirius,” you chide, suppressing a smile. 

“Dead serious,” he says with a straight face. “Really, lovely, just because you’re not as outspoken as all of us twats fighting to shout over each other doesn’t mean you don’t have important things to say. They know that, they all know that. And can I tell you something else?” 

You hum again, made wary by the glint in his eye. 

Sirius leans closer to your ear. “I sort of like that you’re usually only loud for me. In private.” 

Your laughter comes out suddenly enough to startle you both, you closing a hand over your mouth while Sirius leans away, grinning. 

“God, sorry,” you whisper, looking around in case you’ve attracted attention, “that was loud.” 

“Well, we are in private.” 

“You’re awful.” You hide against his front, giggling. 

“Yes, yes, I’m awful and you’re perfect.” Sirius kisses your hair. “I know all of this already, it’s only news to you. Listen, I don’t mean to rush you, but we probably should get back to our table before they send James for us. They were already complaining about you being too long in the loo before I left; they’ve grown rather attached to you.” 

Your brief silence must communicate enough of your surprise, because Sirius laughs. 

“Oh, right, yeah. They really like you. Shocking.” 

[prettydaisygirl]

Heyy~I have a james potter x reader request.

They have a love hate relation,and they keeps on fight but its really only frome one side cause james secretly is in love with reader and loves seeing her mad as its the only way he'll have her full attention.

But james let it's out by accident and reader have fun with this new info and seduces and flirts with james. James becomes all dazed & flustered by reader batting her eyelashes at him.

You can take your own take on this and maybe reader dominates james in bed.....👀

P.s(this is my third request for you and you have nailed the previous requests nd the first time requesting something 18+) please feel free to ignore it💗

Hello nonnie!! OMG thank you so much for your request! I'm literally so honored that you keep making requests because you've enjoyed the other ones I've done for you 😭🩷 I saw the plot of this in my head like a movie when I read your request and I wrote down the basics and had to wait until I had a good time I could sit down and write it all haha, it's been on my mind all week. Hope you enjoy this one, my love!! 

academic rival!James Potter x fem!reader who seduces James to get ahead ✿ 3.6k words

cw: NSFW 18+, university au, James is the top student, reader is second, academic rivals, reader has complicated feelings, reader has kinda iffy intentions, reader is manipulative (?) but then falls in love, dry humping, choking, unprotected p in v, mentions of alcohol

james potter masterlist

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You tap your pen against the edge of the table, bouncing your leg under the desk. Your eyes dart back and forth around the classroom, looking at everyone else waiting too.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Your eyes lock with his, and you pause. Your eyelids narrow, his brown orbs matching yours and narrowing too. You roll your eyes and look away. Fucking James Potter.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Sirius, James’ best friend, roommate, and favorite nuisance, groans loudly where he is sprawled in his chair next to James, feet up on the desk. Remus, the one person in their group who you can stand, elbows Sirius and shoots him a quick glare. James’ eyes are still on you, smirk on his lips, and you send him a dirty look. He’s so fucking cocky.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

The door to the lecture hall finally opens, and everyone sits up a bit. Well, everyone except Sirius. 

The professor stomps in, ten minutes late but with clearly no cares in the world, the stack of papers in his hand catching your attention. The exam from last class, one that might finally allow you to pull ahead of James. Or, he did better than you again, and you’ll have to suffer his cruel teasing for another few weeks so you can cram until the next exam. You need that test back. 

Your professor places everything down at his desk with a light groan, running a hand through his hair. He looks around the room, scanning all of his students’ faces, before clearing his throat. 

“I’ll be passing back exams at the end of the hour.” There’s a collective groan but he doesn’t care, continuing on with the lesson. You force yourself to pay attention and take notes, to not think about the potential outcomes of your exam results, to not look in James’ direction even though you know if you did that he would be looking at you. 

This thing between you and James has been going on since freshman year. You stepped onto campus, bright-eyed and valedictorian of your high school, and you vowed to yourself that you were going to repeat the success of the last four years. And, for the most part, you have. 

Except for James Potter. He’s a constant thorn in your side, and he relishes in it. The two of you are in a constant battle for who will be the top student at the University. James somehow always ends up on top. And so for you, it really is a war. You fight tooth and nail. You stay up way too late studying every night, living off of caffeine and short naps between classes. You involve yourself in different activities, you complete every extra credit opportunity, and you attend every office hour, every study session, every single thing you can do. And yet, you always find yourself lagging behind James Potter, who seems to score perfectly on every exam despite not opening his textbook once. It’s infuriating, and you hate him. 

He knows that he gets on your nerves. He loves it, he purposely antagonizes you. Like he’s doing right now.

Your eyes meet his, unconsciously seeking him out as he takes over your thoughts. His eyes are there, on you, just as you knew they would be. He sends you a cheeky wink. Prick. 

Your handwriting is shaky today, a result of your bouncing leg as your stomach churns with anxiety, waiting for the exam results. You chew on your nail, crossing off a word and shaking your head when you spell it wrong. When you aren’t writing, it’s back to tapping.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

You don’t feel like you take a full breath until the test is physically in your hand. You practically tear it away from the professor, eyes darting all over until you spot the score. 100%. Your heart soars, but then you falter just a bit when you realize you missed the extra credit question. You pray that James did too, or that he didn’t score as high.

But you know better.

And so does James, evidently. Because the second you look up, that signature smirk is on his lips and he holds up the test so you can see, a long finger pointing at his score in the top right.

102%. Fuck. 

You really don’t want to be here. The music is too loud, everyone is drunk, and there’s a cloud of smoke so thick you find it a little hard to breathe. 

You had been wallowing in self-pity in your dorm, pouring over your textbook on a Friday night instead of doing anything fun. Because of James fucking Potter and his stupid 102%. He’s been teasing you all week, laughing and whispering with his friends when you walk by.

“Need me to tutor you, darling?” He’d called out with a bright voice, only chuckling when you flipped him off. You hate him and his beautiful face. 

And tonight, your study/self-pity session was interrupted by your phone ringing several times. 

Your roommate asked you to come pick her up from a party, but you’ve searched the frat house twice now with no sign of her. You’ve tried calling, and she won’t answer your texts either. It’s frustrating, and you’re about to go home without her when a familiar voice catches your attention. 

“I mean it!” You know it’s James before you see him, peeking around the corner to spot him, Sirius, Remus, and Peter pouring drinks in the kitchen. “She looked at me eleven times today. I counted!”

“You’re hopeless.” Sirius announces, head shaking before pouring some of the alcohol directly into his mouth from the bottle. Peter gives him a disgusted look and you almost snort. “She hates you.” “I know,” James seems defeated at Sirius’ words and your curiosity is fully peaked at this point. “Why do you think I have to count how many times she looks at me?”

“Have you ever tried, I don’t know, talking to the poor girl?” Remus asks, taking a sip from his cup before taking the bottle away from Sirius when he drinks straight from it again. 

“She always thinks I’m teasing her, even when I really mean it.” James shakes his head, “If pissing her off and getting better scores than her is what keeps her eyes on me, then that’s what I’ll do.” 

Oh. Oh. 

Is he talking about you?

You hold your breath, pressing closer to the wall as though you’ll be able to hear any better, peeking around the corner to watch the four men talk. James takes a large sip of his drink and you find your eyes lingering over his figure.

“I still think you should just tell her.” Peter speaks up and James knocks into him with his shoulder. 

“You know I can’t just do that, Pete.” James shakes his head, and you watch as his chocolate curls flutter against his forehead. “What do I say? ‘Hi, I know you’ve hated me for the last two and a half years and I’ve been pretending to hate you too. Can we go on a date?’”

Sirius snorts, and it’s in perfect timing to cover the slight gasp that comes out of your mouth. He really is talking about you.

James Potter has feelings for you. You thought he hated your guts. 

“What are you doing?” The voice of your roommate from behind you has you practically jumping out of your skin. You whip around to find her watching you with a judgmental look on her face.

“Nothing!” You say quickly, clearing your throat. “I’ve been looking for you. Are you ready? Let’s go.” You don’t really give her a chance to argue, tugging at her arm as you pull her out of the frat house and back to your car. 

You try to pay attention to the conversation your roommate is having with you on the way home, but it’s difficult. Your mind is racing, focus on the conversation you overheard back at the party.

Does James really have feelings for you? He said he only continues to rile you up because you won’t look at him any other way. You don’t trust him if he acts serious. Is that true? 

The only time you can remember that James Potter tried to act sincere with you was the one time you had to miss an exam due to needing a trip to the hospital. He pleaded with the professor on your behalf, convincing him to let you take it a different day. When he told you what he did, you assumed it was because he didn’t want to win an unfair fight. You didn’t think he’d advocate for you because he cares or anything. 

Oh. Maybe James is right. Maybe you don’t take him seriously. 

You toss and turn in your bed that night for hours, mind racing as you rethink almost every interaction you’ve had with the bespectacled boy since the two of you met freshman year. James, for all his annoying flaws, seems to be a good friend. He’s thoughtful, he’s funny, and he’s so handsome it makes you sick sometimes. And he’s so, so smart. 

You hate the feelings churning in your stomach. On one hand, you hate him. Even if he has feelings for you, that doesn’t make it okay for him to tease you, and you still want to be better than him. You need to win. But on the other hand… you could really like him, you think. If you let yourself fall for him. If he really does have feelings for you and it wasn’t all a cruel joke.

But how could it be a joke? James didn’t even know you’d been at the party, and none of his friends had spotted you either. They’d been talking casually, not like they were making fun of you. 

You sigh, flopping into a different position again as you try to get comfortable. You spring up suddenly when you get an idea. 

“I’m going to seduce James Potter.” You say, a happy laugh falling from your lips. “And then I’ll sit by him during the next exam and he’ll be so distracted that I’ll score higher than him!”

You grunt suddenly as a pillow comes in contact with the side of your head, flung by your roommate.

“Go to sleep!”

You’re tapping your pen on your desk again. But this time, there’s no exam to take or score to wait for. You’re waiting for the end of class, eyes darting between the clock and the boy who you’re hoping to catch on the way out. James.

He seems to notice that you’re looking at him more often. You knew he stared at you a lot, but you didn’t know it was actually the entire lecture. You find yourself glancing at him repeatedly, his eyes waiting for yours every time you do. 

This is making you more nervous than you thought it would. You’ve thrown insults and curse words at James like it’s second nature, but the idea of asking him to come back to your dorm with you is making you feel a bit sick. What if you misunderstood everything you overheard? What if they’d been talking about someone else and now you’re going to make a fool of yourself, providing a lifetime of bullying fuel for the one person who really can get under your skin?

You shake your head as the professor dismisses the class, swallowing nervously and quickly packing up your things. You shove down your anxiety, replaying your plan in your head.

Get him in your dorm. Get him naked. Get close enough to keep him distracted from his classes.

You head toward the lecture hall’s doors, and find James and Sirius walking out right in front of you.

“James?” You call out to him. Both James and Sirius turn around, James with eyes as wide as saucers, and Sirius with a bit of a gleam in his eye. 

“Hey,” James says, running a hand through his hair as he tries to seem casual. Now that you see it, it’s so obvious. You’d thought he was so cocky before, now you realize he’s been trying to get your attention..

“Could we… talk?” You ask, shuffling a bit on your feet as your heart races. You try to seem solid, but you don’t know what you’ll do if he laughs in your face and calls you a loser.

He doesn’t. He wouldn’t. Instead he says, “Of course,” though you can tell by the look on his face that he is incredibly confused about why you want to speak to him.

James waves Sirius off and you take a breath. “Can we… go to my dorm?” You ask him.

You can see the suspicion in his eyes, the way the muscles in his jaw tighten and his lips purse. He crosses his arms and then speaks, voice a bit short and clipped. “Your dorm?”

“Yes.” You say with a nod, keeping your voice steady even though you feel like your heart might explode, “I just… I need to talk to you.”

Your words and tone seem to have the desired effect and his hardness softens just a bit. He nods, and walks back with you to your dorm. Your roommate is gone tonight, at her boyfriend’s house, so you know no one will interrupt your plans. 

You sit on the bed, gesturing for James to do the same. He looks out of place here, and it doesn’t help that his body is fully tense and he seems extremely uncomfortable. 

“What did you want to talk to me about?” James asks, and you understand why he is so suspicious of you. He should be, considering your plan. But you have to score higher than him on the next test. And if that means distracting him with his feelings for you, then you’ll do it. 

“I’ve just been… doing some thinking.” You say slowly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You move a bit closer to him, sitting on your knees beside him. “I feel like I owe you an apology.”

That gets his attention. His head whips in your direction, his guard falling for a moment from the shock of your words. “You’re apologizing to me?” You nod, playing with a strand of your hair. “I haven’t been very nice, and I… I don’t want you to think I’m a bad person. I like you, James.”

He stares at you, lips slightly parted, and it’s like you can see his brain short-circuit. His eyes, as big and beautiful as always underneath his glasses, blink several times as he tries to process what you’ve said. You wait, and after a long moment you decide to speak again.

“Aren’t you going to say you like me back?”

“What?” James shakes his head, and it seems like his hand reaches for your waist instinctively, but stops short of actually touching you. “I mean, yes. I like you, but I don’t understand. I thought…”

“That I hated you?” You say, tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him. You see his pupils dilate, his Adam’s apple bob. You shake your head. “I don’t hate you, James. Actually, I…” You lean forward to reach and brush some curls off his forehead, then whisper to him, “I really, really want you.” 

“Is this really happening?” James asks, like he’s torn between his mind and his heart. You don’t give him a second to question you, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. He responds immediately grabbing for you and deepening the kiss. His grip is tight, and he lets out little whines and moans in your mouth. You ignore the way the sounds make your thighs clench and your stomach warm. 

He pulls you forward into his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. You roll forward, pressing down against him. He’s already hard, and you can tell he’s big. Your heart flutters but you ignore it, continuing to focus on James as you find him bucking his hips up into yours. He really must have been pent up, waiting for this. 

“Holy fuck. Holy fuck.” He whispers between kisses, hands grasping at you like a man touch-starved. 

When he pulls his lips away from yours to breathe, he quickly leans forward to attach them to your neck. You find your eyes fluttering closed as his tongue darts out against your skin and leaves saliva and warmth in its wake. Despite trying to push down your own feelings, you find yourself wanting more of him. Not just to seduce him, but also because it feels good. 

You reach down, freeing James from his pants. He lifts his hips a bit to help you. He’s even bigger than you thought and he finds the audacity to smirk a bit at you, making you roll your eyes.

You stroke him a few times, hearing him whimper your name. You hate the way your throat tightens when he does. Your own pants are tossed aside quickly, along with your underwear. 

James’ hands grasp at your hips, and his eyes are dark and hazy as you look down at him from your place on his lap. His Adam’s apple bobs again as he swallows thickly, his chest a bit shaky as he breathes. 

It’s time to lock in, you think, and lean forward to press a kiss to his jaw. You literally watch his dick twitch and you lick up his neck to his ear.

“Are you going to let me fuck you, James?” You whisper into his ear, seeing his body shiver. A thought crosses your mind that being above him like this feels a million times better than being above him in GPA, but you force that idea away as soon as it appears. 

He whines, and you pull back, sliding a hand up to rest against the front of his throat. You tilt your head and see James’ entire face flush, his cock bright red and already leaking. “Well?”

“Yes, please, yeah…” He whines and you pretend not to absolutely relish in the way it sounds. 

You squeeze his throat a bit as you slide down onto him, and he practically cums right then. You smirk a bit, giving the both of you a moment to adjust. He feels really fucking good, too good. You find yourself enjoying every roll of your hips, every buck of his. You squeeze a bit tighter every time he tries to speak, and it always has his eyes rolling back and his hands gripping you harder. His body trembles, and pieces of strangled whimpers escape his mouth as you grind down onto him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” You moan out, the sound escaping you before you can stop yourself. One of James’ hands moves to your wrist, holding it but not pulling it away from his neck. In fact, at the next roll of your hips, he pushes your wrist closer, encouraging you to tighten your grip, and you do. 

The sight of his writhing beneath you is everything you could ever have hoped for. James is completely at your mercy, and it makes you feel invincible. You cum harder than you ever have in your life, and James follows not long after. 

You make the mistake of falling asleep next to him afterward, telling yourself that it’s to make him really think you like him. Not because you wanted to sleep with your ear pressed to his chest, listening to his heart beat. It’s just soothing. You tell yourself it won’t happen again, even though deep down, you know you’re lying. This has changed things for you, even if you won’t admit it to yourself.

The day of the next exam finally comes, and for once, you find that you aren’t nervous. You studied your ass off the entire past week, and with your plan to distract James going well so far, you don’t feel like you have much to worry about.

You take a seat next to James for this one, and he smiles lovingly at you. His friends snort, and you wonder what he told them. The talking stops instantly as tests are passed around. You spend the entire time brushing your foot against James’ calf, at one point bending over to pick up your pencil and purposely showing him your cleavage. It works to distract him, and you’ve convinced yourself that you have this in the bag.

You leave feeling confident, James following you like a puppy. He’s been by your side almost the entire time since you hooked up with him. You find you like having him around. 

As his hand slides into yours and his smile makes your heart skip, you aren’t sure if you're still lying to yourself about how you feel. The more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself liking him. It happens slowly, until one day you realize that the things that used to be frustrating about him now make him endearing. Your walls crumble like old castle walls, until you’ve accepted that maybe these feelings have been there since the beginning.

It’s these realizations alone that keep you from breaking down when you finally see the test scores.

“How?” You ask, eyes darting between your test and James’. You got a 98%. James got 100%.. “I was trying to give you a boner the entire time!”

“Joke's on you,” James says with a smirk, grabbing your test from you and pressing a kiss to your cheekbone. “That happens every time I watch you during an exam. I’m used to it.”

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© prettydaisygirl