#muggle!reader

[mischievousmoony]

I’m blushing so hard at frat boy James!! What about the first time she comes over and meets the guys outside a party

hope i've done your idea justice! ty for requesting

𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

⟢ pairing: frat boy!james potter x fem!reader ⟢ summary: you meet james' friends on an unexpected visit to his frat house, and sirius is set on embarrassing james however he can ⊹ 1.9k ⟢ warnings: references to drinking, technically american!james potter and american!marauders

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"It'll just take a minute," James promises. "We'll be in and out."

With his hand in yours, he leads you through the door, passing under the large Greek letters as you cross the threshold.

You have been seeing James for a month and a half. You never thought you'd be interested in a frat guy—you've never even step foot in one of their houses until now—but James has proven to be the opposite of what you thought a frat guy would be like.

James is a total sweetheart. Possibly the most thoughtful and genuine guy you've ever dated. He makes you feel special, always remembering the little things like your favorite flower or your drink orders at all your favorite places. He's attentive without ever being overbearing. But honestly, you don't think you could see him that way if you tried, always loving every bit of attention he gives you.

Today, he's taking you on a study date. He remembered that you were complaining about an upcoming exam in a class he's already taken, so he's grabbing his old notes and sitting you down in a quiet corner of the library so that he can help you study.

James would already have you set up in the library on the coziest chair with your favorite hot drink from the cafe if he didn't forget his old notebook in his room—which he felt rather sheepish about leaving behind.

So, here you are. James asked if you wanted to wait in the car, but you were curious to see the inside of one of these things. You half expected to see solo cups littering the floor, a pong table in place of a coffee table, and maybe even a few hungover frat guys strewn about the living room still sobering up from last nights antics.

You were a little surprised to find out that it was rather clean. You know from James that there was indeed a party here last night, but apparently they clean up nicely.

Although, you’re right about there being a pong table. But it is folded up and leaning against a wall for future use.

James guides you towards the stairs, but before he can even mount the first step someone appears in the foyer from a hall that you can see leads to the kitchen.

"Jamesie! Back so soon?" the boy cheers when his eyes land on his friend first. His eyes dart to you a second later, and something like recognition flashes in his expression. "Is this who I think it is?"

The boy has long, black hair that cascades just to his shoulders in soft waves, the kind that look effortless but too perfect to not be styled in some way. He stares at you with piercing blue eyes, making you feel oddly self-conscious, which might also have to do with the big smirk on his lips.

James squeezes your hand, sensing your nerves, but he'd bet money that they pale in comparison to his own. He's been nervous about bringing you around here. It doesn't have anything to do with you, or them (well, maybe he's a little worried they'll scare you off). You're really important to him, and so are they, and he's been putting a lot of pressure on introducing you to them. So, this unplanned visit has his palms sweating, which he's hoping you haven't noticed.

"Sirius," James greets his friend. "Yeah, this is Y/N."

Your eyes widen a fraction when Sirius immediately steps forward, taking your free hand to press a kiss to the back of your knuckles. "Hi, sweetheart, I've heard a lot about you. Truly, a lot. James has talked my ear off about you so I really feel like I'm meeting an old friend. I'm Sirius."

You feel heat rise to your cheeks but you're not alone, as James' own face turns rosy as he mutters a scolding "dude!" at his friend.

"Don't tell me you were just gonna sneak in without so much as a proper introduction." Sirius places a hand over his heart, a dramatic look of utter disbelief painting his face.

"We're just stopping by to get my notes. We have a very important study sesh to get to, didn't want to delay us too much," James explains, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"I promise it'll only be a short detour then. Pete and Remus are the only ones here anyway," Sirius says. His eyes dart to you again, something mischievous swimming within them. "We've all been dying to meet the girl that has our James so smitten. I mean, he's been going on and on and on. It's nice to finally have a pretty face to the name."

At Sirius’ words, you can’t help but crack a smirk as you peer up at James.

“Don’t look at me like that,” James murmurs, now rubbing his thumb across your knuckles the way he does when he gets anxious. James is sure the tips of his ears are bright red. Sirius will go to no end to embarrass him, but despite the fact that his heart might jump out of his chest at any second, James really only cares how you feel about the situation. James tilts his head toward you, lowering his voice to ask, "Are you up for meeting some of the guys?"

"Yeah," you say with a warm smile. "I'd love to meet your friends." And you really would. James talks a lot about them, too. Always reciting some story about all the shenanigans they've gotten into over the years.

You've been able to tell he's been overthinking bringing you to meet them. You get it—you're secure in James' feelings for you, so you know it's nothing personal. Plus, you were really nervous when James met your friends. To be honest, even though they were jokes, you're friends have made digs at frat guys before because of the stigma. You really wanted James and your friends to like each other, and thankfully, they really do and you had nothing to be worried about.

You hope that meeting his friends will have the same outcome and ease some of James' worries.

Sirius provides a generous introduction as you enter the kitchen. "Boys, it seems we have a very special guest in our midst this morning."

There are two guys sitting on kitchen stools who swivel around to greet you.

There's a lanky boy with mousy brown hair whose eyes dart back and forth between you and James before he directs a kind smile in your direction.

The other boy spins around mid-spoonful of a bowl of cereal. He abandons the utensil in his mouth to wave at you, his other hand occupied by the bowl resting in his palm.

Your eyes trail around the kitchen as James introduces you to them. It's rather large, as it would have to be to accommodate the large number of guys you assume live here.

You've also discovered the mess you thought you'd be stepping into. It seems that all of the discarded solo cups and beer cans have already been shoveled into a few trash bags, which are just about ready to burst at the seams as they wait by the back door to be taken out.

"I'm Peter," the boy with the cereal pipes up after returning his spoon to his bowl.

"Remus," the tall one introduces himself. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too," you say. "You know, I've never been in a frat house before. I take it you all live here?"

Remus is the only one who shakes his head. "Not a brother," he clarifies. "Just unlucky enough to have them as my best friends."

"Oh, you know you'd be lost without us," Sirius says, rolling his eyes playfully. "And it's not a frat house, it's a frat home," Sirius says very earnestly. Too add to his dramatics, he pulls Peter into a hug (which nearly makes him fall off his stool) and raps his fist against his back as he pretends to get emotional.

Peter's laughing as he shoves, Sirius off. "Alright, man," he says, swatting Sirius' hand away as he ruffles his hair.

"Sirius had beer for breakfast," Remus informs you to excuse Sirius' behavior.

"Hey, I only had two and I know you're not suggesting I'm a lightweight," Sirius points at Remus accusingly. "Anyway, I was just telling Y/N how often Jamesie muses about her."

Remus clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "Don't tease him too badly, Sirius.”

"It's not like it's not true," Peter shrugs, earning himself a glare from James.

You look up at James. His cheeks have deepened a few shades now as he glowers at Peter. You give his hand a squeeze to attract his attention, the expression on his face immediately softening when he looks at you.

“I think it’s sweet,” you say, encouraging a smile onto James’ lips. He drops your hand, only to wrap his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side. You nuzzle your nose against his shoulder, looking at him with expectant eyes. He knows what you’re asking for, and would rather hand his friends more ammo to tease him with than deny you, so he gladly plants a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“You two are sickening.” Sirius leans over the counter, propping his chin up with his hand as he sighs dramatically. “It’s adorable,” he adds.

“Wrapped around her finger, are ya?” Peter joins in on the teasing.

James keeps his eyes on you as he responds. “You bet I am.”

You tear your eyes away from James’ sweet gaze to address his smirking friends. “You know, I've heard a lot about you guys too," you say.

Sirius lights up with intrigue. "Oh, do tell."

"Well, Peter must be the guy to go to if you want to have a laugh. Every time James asks ‘Wanna hear a story Peter told me’ I know I’m gonna have to sit through several fits of laughter before he gets to the end of it," you say, nudging James with your elbow who nods along to confirm your story.

Peter puffs up his chest, proud to be known as the funny one.

"Remus," you continue, "I should've known you weren't a brother. James always tells me about how they drag you into things that you have to get them out of. If he hasn't told you before, he's very thankful for you. And Sirius. I think I've heard the most interesting stories about you."

"This should be good," Sirius says, a cocky grin on his face. "I've given James a whole catalog of legendary stories to tell about me."

"My favorite is the one that started with you trying to impress a girl by jumping into the pool from the roof and ended with you in the bushes after you tripped on the gutter,” you say, an air of sweetness in your tone and a smile on your lips.

The confident smirk drops from Sirius’ face and James snorts a laugh beside you. Peter cracks up, and even Remus snickers at the look on Sirius’ face.

"I think you’ve just won over Sirius," Remus says, watching as his grin returns.

“You got me, I can appreciate that,” Sirius says. “Why have you been hiding her from us for so long, James? I like her.”

"Yeah, I like her too,” James replies, squeezing you a little closer into his side. He doesn't bother trying to hide the broad grin overtaking his features. As he looks down at your giggling face, he can't remember what he was so nervous about.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Meetings On Window Sills

masterlist

note: I fucking love 60s-70s music so there's a lot of it mentioned, and also remus is a full blown music nerd so why would i not make them bond over music?? also this was inspired by 2007s Jump In! starring my first crush: corbin bleu lol

warnings: didn't edit (don't care), little tiny bit of angst between remus and his dad, smoking, remus having back problems since 11 and a city boy, reader has hair long enough to put in a claw clip

word count: 3.8 k

♡ summary: Many don't know that during summer, Remus goes home to a muggle girl, and he spends more time on his fire escape than in his room some days

♡ Remus Lupin x fem!muggle!reader

request ✗

1971

He’d known her his whole life, well since he was 6 months old. Their mums had both gone to the same ‘mommy and me’ class and hit it off when they both took a smoke break. Since then their mums had noticed they didn’t have much in common and grew apart, not after buying apartments in the same building.

Remus stretched his back, hands on his waist while leaning back, just having done all his folding, getting ready to organize in his trunk. As he stood from the small single bed in the corner he heard the soft hum of music coming from outside, the young boy lifted his widow, needing much more force than when it was made. 

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” 

Remus looks to her widow, seeing the record player playing on her desk while she reads, not seeming to be doing a whole lot of that though. From his view it looks to be Little Women, which he had read and which he would never tell her, but he had been bored on a visit to his grandparents before they died and that was the only book in his moms childhood room, so he read it and enjoyed it enough to finish and not have much of a critic.

“You always sing that song much louder than the rest.” 

His sudden voice caused the girl to jump in her seat, putting the book down and turning down the record she looked at to him, slightly embarrassed at him catching her. 

“It’s my favourite.” She said moving to sit on her window seat. Remus of course noticed this as a sign that she wanted to continue the conversation, he also noticed the way she played with the bottom button of her cardigan. The boy exited his window onto the fire escape to sit on the window sill.

“It’s The Beatles?” “Yeah, my mum got it for me for Christmas last year. Along with George Harrison’s solo album, ‘cause he’s my favourite Beatle- he actually wrote the song I was singing.” She knew she went on a little too long but Remus wouldn’t stop her, that was the type of person he was, kind hearted. When he listened to her, he really listened, he heard every word and took it in.

“Because he wrote your favourite song?” “Not just that, but I guess that’s where it started then I looked through all my albums and all my favourite songs he wrote.” She briefly pointed behind her and he saw the self of records behind her.

“What ones?” He asked, getting more comfortable by leaning his back on one side of the window frame.

“Umm, I’m happy just to dance with you, and of course here comes the sun.” “That’s me mum's favourite, tells me every time it’s on the radio.” 

The conversation stalls, to avoid awkward stares Remus looks down to the street and watches a man with a yellow jacket cross the street, it glowing in the yellow street lights. His stare only breaks when he hears her voice ask, “What’re you packing for?”

“Oh- That..” Her brows furrow at the nervous tone, he wasn’t sure how to tell her, it wasn’t like they were best friends, they talked once in a while like how they are now and would see eachother at school, “I wasn’t sure how to tell people, I’m going to a different school next year.” “Where?” “It’s a boarding school up in Scotland.” “Why are they making you go?” 

Remus would be lying to say that didn’t surprise him, she sounded like she would miss him a little more than he thought she would, and that deeply confused him.

“My father went so-” It’s interesting how much truth he could say while withholding the biggest piece of information from her.

“That sucks. Aren’t you going to miss your friends.” “I never had many friends.” Overstatement. He had no friends, never really did, kids at school made fun of his scars, or for being a nerd, or for having second hand clothes that his mother still had to sew to be wearable; take your pick really. 

“Not many people like me.” “I like you.” Remus’s head lifted from its stare at his swinging legs, “As- as a friend of course.” “Of course, I like you as a friend too.” 

-

1973 

As soon as he walked through the door, Remus set on the way to his window, leaving his trunk at the door. 

“Hun! Where’re you going so fast?” His mum asked, placing the keys in the bowl by the door, and putting her hands on her hips. His father made his way past her to the kitchen.

“I missed my room!” He yelled, never slowing down the hall. Once they believed he was out of ear shot, he heard his father say, “He wants to see Jen’s girl.” 

As he got closer to her window he saw the girls laying on her back legs up resting on the wall while she read. Her head snapped to the window after the first knock, a large grin making its way to her face. She rolled off her bed and opened the window for him and he heard the tune of Bowie flowing through the room.

She crawled half out the window to hug him, her arms going around his neck and he held her back, his hands felt warm, his embrace felt safe. He wore a thin jumper that felt soft on her skin.

“I’m so happy you’re back.” “Me too.” They say, pulling back and getting comfortable on the window sill. She was still smiling at him, and him at her, before Remus felt he had to look away or he would explode. He took the moment to look at her room and it had changed quite a bit since last summer; bed against a new wall, something she did when she felt she needed a change. He noticed her vinyl collection had grown.

“You finally got Ziggy Stardust!” “Oh yeah!” She jumped off the ledge they sat on and made her way to put it on. 

“I went with some friends to London and we got to go to a huge record shop. Remus you wouldn’t believe the stuff they had there- they had Bob Dylan’s first album so my collection of his is complete.” “Brilliant.” Remus sat down on her window seat bench and grabbed the album from her shelf to get a closer look. With the Bowie record set up, she nudged the volume dial up before returning next to the boy. She hit his leg to get his attention, “Listen to this first one it’s my favourite.” 

He put the Bob Dylan album down to give his full attention to the music. 

Many hours later, the two were still perfectly content listening to album after album, pausing their conversation when a particularly good verse came. They were now on the floor of her room, the girl laid out on her carpet flooring, looking just as carefree and stunning as ever. 

“Joni next?” She said as the album playing came to a close, before he could respond they heard a knock on the window, it was his dad.

“Bit late, innit? ‘S past one, Remus.” “Sorry, Mr. Lupin, we lost track of time.” “‘S alright, dear, but come to bed Remus.” “Okay.” 

His father went back through the window and waited. Remus stood the floor and stretched his back, the girl stood as well, “Tomorrow?” “Yeah.” “G’night, Rem.” “G’night.” 

He joined his dad out on the fire escape as they made their way back to his room, once they got inside and closed the window his father broke the silence. “I know you like that girl, but you’ve ‘ot to keep her out of this world, especially with what you are.” 

And just like, an otherwise perfect night, ruined by one comment by his father. 

“I know.” “Alright. G’night, son.” The door shut behind him, and when he heard that click he let the tear drop.

He knew from his friends that  some people don’t care, they found out this past school year and he still hasn’t told his parents that fact. But for all his life he’s heard otherwise, and he can’t help but think one day the boy’s will come to their senses and leave him all alone again. Y/n though, a muggle, if he ever told her he can imagine that  best case scenario is him having to use obliviate.

-

1975 

Remus retreated to his room after dinner, wanting to sleep or read or something that didn’t involve more people, it had been a long day even before he got on the train home for the summer. As he grabbed the book on his desk he saw a trail of smoke leading to a certain girl’s bedroom, he leaned forward to see her with her glasses on, smoking a cigarette, and wearing mismatching pajamas.

He lifted the window with ease, causing the girl to flick her eyes back to him, “You're back.” “Same time every year.” Both shared a look with smiles on their faces, the girl broke eye contact to grab her pack of cigarettes, and overing him with one.

“Yeah.” He climbs out the window and comes to now sit on her window sill and takes his own cigarette, she grabs the light from behind her and he lets her light his. Her fingertips brushing against his check as she blocks the blooming flame from the soft summer breeze.

He takes the chance to gaze at her lips, wrapped around the cigarette, residue of lipstick left behind, a soft red. She never needed the makeup, but sometimes if he woke up early he could watch her put it on. A moment that he found she looked the most beautiful, practiced movements, mouthing the words to whatever song she was listening to, and the funny faces she made made him smile. 

“I missed you.” “Yeah?” A smile creeped on his face as he looked into her eyes. “Yeah.” “I missed you too. I always do.”

The girl looks away, a smile on her face, unaware that Remus continues his stare looking from her eyes to her smile and the way her hair falls in its clip. She wore a thin olive green tank top, he could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra so he moved his eyes to the clouds she was looking at. 

“How’re your friends?” Sometimes she felt as though she knew the boys, with how much Remus talked about them, her mind began to wonder if they knew as much about her as she knew about them.

“They’re just the same pricks they’ve always been.” “James got any farther with Lily?” She muttered, flicking off her cigarette and taking another puff, she looked so beautiful and natural. She had glasses that fell down her nose, messy hair that she liked that way, and a laugh like no other.

“Lils would like me to say ‘no’, but I think she likes him a lot more than she cares to share.” “That’s the way it always goes.” She trailed off, to look at him and he was already looking at her.

It was second year Remus became friends with Lily, they were paired up for a project together and became close. At first she was jealous of the girl, she felt that Lily was going to take her spot in Remus’ life, it weirdly enough was when she heard of James’ fondness for the ginger girl that she no longer worried. Well that and the fact that Remus never did anything to insinuate that he was any less friends with her because of Lily. 

And what she didn’t know was that half of the time he was with Lily, he ended up bringing up her.

-

1977 

Y/n was waiting all day for Remus to come home, she never left her room the whole day in waiting. Looking to his window every ten minutes in hope she would see her lanky boy crawling out his window.

It was late in the evening when she came back from the bathroom and immediately went to check, she almost didn’t believe her eyes when she saw the lamp beside his bed on. The girl shrugged on her cardigan that was lying across her desk chair, and crawled out the window.

Remus had just gotten back from a nice dinner with his parents, this was his last summer as a kid and they wanted to make it special from the beginning, especially since next week he was going to spend a month at the Potter’s. 

He was interrupted from changing by a knock on his window, he turned on his heels to see the girl he’s been waiting all year to see. Her smile lights up his face, she looks away and it takes him a moment to realize it’s because he isn’t wearing a shirt, clad in nothing but pajama pants gifted to him by Peter. He quickly slips on a jumper before he opens the window and she stumbles into his room. 

“Hey.” “Hi.” They each silently take this moment to get a look at eachother, the girl noticed that she could see that scar on his chest end just where his jumper begins, it’s surprising that she could know him since they were babies yet doesn’t know when he got that scar. To be honest she never asked about them, she could tell he was insecure about the way he looked, though in her mind there was no need to be.

During this Remus is having his own thoughts about her looks, she was wearing that cardigan she’s had since she was ten, underneath was a tank top like she commonly wore. Her hair was up in a clip, the same ones Mary always wore, small pieces of hair falling out. She was beautiful.

“Urm.. How have you been?” The boy asked justering for her to sit as he took a seat on his bed. She joined him, leaning against the wall and pulled a carton of cigarettes out of her cardigan pocket. 

“Good, yeah I’m good. You?” She replied, feeling around her pockets, “No lighter.” He stood from the bed and went to his dresser drawer, retrieving the pink lighter and throwing it to the girl, she caught it with ease yet didn’t begin to light.

“Is this the lighter I gave you?” 

When they were fifteen, they first smoked weed together, at a nearby park in order to not get caught by their parents. And Y/n, high, had given Remus her lighter when they had climbed back up the fire escape to their windows and told him, “This is my favourite lighter. I don’t know why? I think ‘cause it’s pink, so that means it’s lucky- ‘cause the lighter is lucky it’s pink and not some boring lighter like yours- No, you know what Remus? You should take this one, ‘cause it’s luckier and prettier than yours. But keep it safe, it’s my favourite.” 

That night Remus put it in his sock drawer to keep safe, he never wanted to use it or worse lose it, so he kept it safe just as she asked.

“Um, yeah.” He mumbled, a little embarrassed at the amount of sentiment he put into that cheap lighter. 

“You kept it?” “Yeah, you told me to.” 

He becomes even more embarrassed when she chuckles. She looks down at it in her hands, her chuckle dying down and smile slips. There's a moment of silence as Remus doesn’t know what to say so he just returns to his spot on the bed next to her. She doesn’t look up at him still as she asks, “Why did you keep it?” 

Truthfully Remus does know why he kept it, it was just because she gave it to him, but if that sounds lame in his head it will most definitely sound lame if he says it to the girl he likes, no love, he’s always known he loved her. So once again he’ll chicken out and doesn’t respond.

She waits for his answer, and when it never comes, “Is it.. For the reason I think?” She boldly asks, looking at the side of his face as he has not looked away from the spot on the wall in front of them. 

Another moment, and the beautiful girl tries to get his attention by leaning her face in his line of vision. His gaze is unnerved, he’s too consumed by the thoughts running in his mind, until they all go silent.

She presses a kiss to the side of his mouth and says, “I like you too.”

Head snaps to look at her, eye to eye, nose to nose, and finally lips to lips as Remus presses a hard kiss right on her lips. She immediately begins kissing back, and trying to take control but to her surprise Remus is a lot more comfortable in his actions now and is the one leading the kiss and pushing his tongue between her soft lips, which she gladly accepts.

The girl trails her hand up the inside of his thigh before skipping up to hold his jaw, Remus at the same time grabs her hips and squeezes, causing Y/n to swing one leg over his and straddle the boy’s lap. Her hands fall from his jaw, to his neck, to his chest and pushes him away lightly.

Both slowly allow their eyes to open and look at eachother, smiles mirroring each other. 

“So-” “Boyfriend girlfriend?” “Yeah, that’s cool.”

-

1977

“I’ll get the Bowie album, then we can listen to it when you get back.” “When’s it coming out?” “October.”

The girl replied, her head lying on his bicep as she played with his hand, drawing shapes and tracing his veins. In his other hand, resting on her stomach, Remus held the book he and Lily decided to read over the break for their informal book club. 

Y/n thought about asking what she’s been wanting to ask since they’ve gotten together, “Are you going to come home for Christmas?” The last time he did was fifth year, last year he had gone to his friend James’ house. And from what he told her, he had the best time, so you can see she was a little worried he would do that again and she wouldn’t get to see her boyfriend till next summer.

What she didn’t know was that Remus was hoping to avoid this at any cost, it was a full moon this christmas. So even if he did come home, he wouldn’t even get to see her much.

“I haven’t thought about it.” “Oh.” Damn, wrong thing to say. She thought about it. She asked him. She wanted him there.

“I mean- I would love to come home and see you! I just- I don’t know if-” “What?” 

She saw the hurt in his face, she knew whatever he was thinking about he was trying to push down and resist it, she sat up and sat crisscrossed facing him. She leaned down and grabbed his hands, gently taking the book out of his hands and marking the page by folding the corner.

“What’s wrong, Remus?... You can tell me.” “That’s just it- I can’t, or rather I shouldn’t.” “Okay, now I’m confused.” She scoffed, shaking her head and standing up to get some space, “What can you not tell me. I tell you everything.” 

Remus sat up, leaning against the wall on his bed, head in his hands, thinking about everything. Everything he ‘couldn’t’ tell her, if he couldn’t trust her he believed he couldn’t trust anyone ever again.

“Okay, you have to believe me though, and it’s going to sound like I’ve gone mad. So just remember that I know how absolutely insane I sound, and that I’m still telling you because I trust you. More than anyone.” Met with slight hesitance, Y/n replies, “Okay.”

“I’m a wizard.” He waits for the big reaction that never comes, he stares at the confused face of his girlfriend before he stands and goes to his bottom desk drawer and grabs his wand.

“Levioso.” The boy says, pointing at his record player and directing it as it levitates, before ultimately placing it back in the same spot on his dresser. When he looked back at the girl, her jaw opened in shock. 

“Holy fucking SHIT!... That just- in air! You are!” “A wizard? Yes.” “How? I mean- you- what?” 

Remus came to her side, guiding her to sit with him on his bed, “I know this is a lot to take in, but I’ve got more.” “MORE?” She looked towards him, concerned for what was to come.

“Yes. Okay, I’m also a werewolf.” “If I didn’t know you, or see that pissing record player float- God, I’d think you were too far gone.” Her words were a relief, causing Remus to chuckle, but truthfully a weight lifted off his chest, to have the most important person in his life to not judge him, “You have no idea how much that means to me- I’m the same Remus you knew, you just know everything now.” 

-

1977

“So I werewolves are real, what about vampires?” “Yes.” “What?! Am I going to have to worry about them?” “Don’t visit Romania.” “That’s not funny.”

They laid together, well Remus laid done while his girl moved every few moments, very excited about the new world she was learning about, at this moment she sat on the boy’s thighs with her legs straddling them on either side.

“What’s your favourite subject in school? For real, now that I know you don’t actually take English.” “Defence against the dark arts.” “That’s a class?” “Yes, a very important one.” He replied, moving his hands up the girl's thighs, from her knees to grasping her hips. He keeps his hands there, squeezing when he feels like it.

“What’s your least favourite?” “Flying. But I haven’t taken that since first year.” “WHY would you hate flying? That’s the dream.” “I don’t like heights.” “But you’re FLYING! Through the air!” “Really? Well, now I’ve got to rethink things.” “Oh, shut up.” 

Remus was laughing now, and he could tell she was trying hard not to. He pulled her down to him, keeping her there with his hands on her back as he attacked her cheek with kisses, “Ah!” 

The small scream falls on deaf ears as Remus continues kissing her cheeks to her jaw and burrows his head to the crook of her neck. He mumbles something she can’t quite hear, but she can just barely make out the word ‘love’. But still continues to fight him off, “Ah! Rem- tickles!” “Don’t care.”

[adalitas-coffeebreak-corner]

Whispers down the hall

Ghost!Sirius Black x Muggle!Reader

A/n: Hi, this was the popular vote, so here ya go. I'll post the others in the same order, so next we will have some roommate!Remus <3

Warnings: Angst, angst and angst, mentions of death and people dying. Word count: 940

Summery: Sirius realises eternity might not be as bad, now that he got to see you.

It had been rather painless.

He had often thought about it, but maybe he was forgetting something.

Harry’s scream echoing as he felt the world seize to turn, the cold touch of death brought upon him way too soon. He had felt angry, cheated. He had gotten to see James and Lily once more, but only for a few seconds, or it might have been minutes, he wasn’t quite sure, considering his mind still hazy from crossing the veil.

He only hoped Harry was okay.

Remus too.

A vibrant ray of light was shining through the moth-eaten curtains of Sirius’ first apartment. Apparently, that’s where he was doomed to spend the rest of eternity, the place where him and Remus had lived for about a year, in the middle of busy muggle London. After Sirius had been sent to Azkaban, Remus had done very little to upkeep the place, leaving their sofa and a few boxes hidden in the back of the closet.

 And he really couldn’t blame him.

A lot had stayed the same, even some of their old furniture had filled the small space, but the change of flooring, a newly installed kitchen stove had alerted Sirius that others must have occupied the space for the last sixteen years, most likely muggles who were blissfully unaware of the shitshow that had happened there.

But as of now, Sirius roaming down the cramped hallway, it had been empty. No laughter, music or talking and it was driving him off the wall. It wasn’t enough that he was a ghost, no, he had been forced to stay inside an old grey apartment that resembled Grimmauld place in every sense. Totally devoid of any life and happiness.

That was the worst part, Sirius agreed with himself.

So, when he suddenly felt a presence his mind quieted. The door opened and a grey-haired woman, who he made out to be the landlord, walked in with keys and a stack of paper in hand. If his heart was still beating it would’ve skipped a beat when a younger woman trailing behind, carrying a suitcase, came into view.  

She’s beautiful, he thought.

“So here it is, it’s a fucking shithole, but at least it’s cheap” The older woman muttered drawing back the curtains, particles of dust dancing in the sunlight. The younger girl looked a little taken aback, which Sirius thought was adorable, her eyes widening before regaining her composure, obviously not used to the landlords of central London.

The thought made him chuckle.

“Um, yes, I did notice the rent is rather affordable, how come? I mean, this street is right next to Kensing- “

“A couple of years ago some kid who lived here blew up some people right out on the street” The grey-haired woman cut her off with an explanation, her tone matching that of a mother tired of answering questions, Sirius figured the lady must’ve been asked a million times from different tenants. “Oh” was all the young girl could muster, looking a little paler than when she first stepped inside. Sirius felt his chest tighten.

A few months had gone by when Y/n noticed strange things happening. Her bag, that she was notoriously known for misplacing, would lay on her sofa table every morning before work, tea mugs seemed to always magically end up in the sink and weirdest of all? Her record player would keep turning on in the middle of the night, even when she had unplugged it minutes before laying in bed, most commonly when she had been listening to her David Bowie or Mott the hoople LP’s. The first night it had happened, she awoke in a slight panic, dragging her feet quickly towards the sound, where she pulled the needle to rest in the place she had left it.

Weird, but not necessarily any course for alarm.

Sirius felt bad for waking her up, but Godrick, he yearned for any resemblance of nostalgia. It also didn’t help her record collection resembled the one him and Remus had collected over the years. But if he was being honest, she resembled everything he had loved while he was alive, even the tea she made in the morning was his favorite muggle brand.

Nevertheless, he had been terrified when she first discovered the box hidden in the back of the small closet, thinking she might be inclined to throw the contents out, but no.

She just sat there, gently pulling out items with the sweetest intrigued look on her face. First it was his old Gryffindor scarf, then one of Remus’ books and lastly a group picture of all the Marauders and Lily titled First Christmas together at James and Lily’s house.

Sirius sat beside her looking over the picture carefully, emotions erupting inside scorching every fiber of his being. Y/n, as he had learned her name was, started to smile.

When she finally put down the framed polaroid, another one caught her attention, and Sirius swore he heard her gasp, and sure enough, when the photo came into view his hopes were confirmed.

It was a photo of Sirius, shirtless, lying by the black lake on a sunny day, smiling at the camera. Y/n traced her fingers gingerly over the photo, taking in every detail.

He’s beautiful, she whispered.

Sirius couldn’t help the smirk that adorned his lips, as it finally dawned on him. He’d go through everything again just to end up by her side, even if eternity would always keep them apart.  

[robynlilyblack]

Something magical

(kinda playboy!) Sirius Black x fem! muggle! reader

Summary: Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith...and sometimes that means running off with a pretty stranger

Warnings/tags: mentions of alcohol and drinking, first kiss, meet cute, strangers to something more, kinda loser! reader (but not really)

A/n: 1.4k words, little random one today ♡

Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist

You nurse your drink, sitting alone while your coworkers are up dancing. They had insisted you come along, though you suspected it was more out of politeness than of genuine sentiment considering the empty booth before you. It's been a while since they’d come back to the table now, and you wondered if now was the best chance to sneak away, avoiding the awkward and insincere goodbyes.

Unfortunately that plan was short lived as some of the girls come back from the bathroom, giggling as they drop off their bags, slurring a little as they ask you to watch them as it's their song. Your head falls back a little in your seat, your happy mask falls revealing a defeated one, and you sigh a little as you take another sip of your drink

I’m such a loser

“Why so glum, sugar plum?” 

You sigh a little more as your eyes flick up, searching for the lucky guy or girl until...

“Up here darlin” he finally grabs your attention and your eyes snap to his, widening as they tentatively double check he definitely means you of all people, which he seems to get a kick out of, his smirk widening

“Did you really just say ‘why so glum, sugar plum’” you question with a slight giggle, eyes meeting his stunning grey ones as you sit up straighter

“Got your attention didn't I?” he defends with a wink and you shy away, looking back at your drink “Can I join you?” 

“Huh?” your head shoots back towards him “Really?” you reply more surprised than you mean to, causing your cheeks to heat, more so as it seems to make the man before you waver as well

Throughout the interaction so far he had been wearing an easy smile some would even consider a little cocky, but at the sound of your genuine surprise, it softens into something else, something you're not even he knows

“Would that be alright?” he asks carefully

“Oh…yeah of course” you gesture, moving a little deeper into the booth but then realise he might not have meant directly beside you “You meant here, right?” you point, to which he nods with a chuckle, more so as you shuffle a little more allowing him room to sit down

“So…” he starts, hand gently swirling his drink and drawing your eyes to the rings that beautifully litter his fingers “...what's got a pretty girl like yourself sitting all alone?” 

You let out a breathy laugh at the flattery “I’m not much of a dancer” you point towards your colleagues who look like their having the time of their lives

As his eyes follow your direction, taking in the scene, you take him in as well. It didn’t seem like this was his kind of scene either, he looked too much like a rocker to be in a place where the majority of men wore in suits and ties. If you were honest he looked too pretty to be anywhere but the cover of a magazine. And on top of all of that, there was just this air around him, like he was from another world altogether

“Your friends?” he wonders, leaning a little closer, thighs dangerously close to your own as the wisps of his curls threaten to tickle your cheek

“No, coworkers” you clarify with a slow shake of your head, meeting his side eye for a second before he looks back at them, nodding with a smile "I regret coming with them"

“I can see why...terrible dancers" he tries to cheer you up, taking a small swig of his drink “So why did you come out with them instead of…” he trails off, recoiling a little

“...actual friends?” you prompt and he nods with lips pressed together, looking thankful he hasn't offended you “The truth might make me seem like an even a glummer plum” you reply cringing, unable to stop the little sniff of a laugh that escapes at the end 

He grins at that and you can’t help but notice his free arm shifting to lay on the top edge of the booth “Try me” he gives you his full attention, something that makes you relax and feel safe...though your cheeks still feel like they’re on fire

"I figured being here was better than being home alone” you admit, looking down, not wishing to see his reaction and feel further embarrassment "My real friends worry I don't get out enough, that I'm alone too much"

After a second of silence you chance a peek up to find his soft smile hasn’t left "I get that...my friends are the same, though I have the opposite problem" he plays with his glass, a small scoff of a laugh coming through his nose "I don't have the best habit of going home alone" he makes his own confession before his head tilts “Why haven’t you left let?” he wonders, no malice or judgement in his voice "Besides my excellent company" he adds, lighting up at your giggle

“I want to...I just didn’t want to leave those alone” you nod across the table towards the small pile of bags

“Oh" his smile grows "If that's the only thing tying ya down” he places his glass down properly, standing up and grabbing one of the stray coats, throwing it gently over the bags before looking back at you, arm stretched out “Wanna get out here pretty girl?”

You smile back at him about to take his hand without a second thought when you stop yourself, glancing at your coworkers for a moment, then back at the man. You could be responsible, wait for them to get their bags and go home while also avoiding the potential heartbreak from the seasoned and flirtatious stranger before you, or…you be adventurous for once, take the leap of faith and maybe have a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life

“So?” he eyes you playfully, his smile positively beaming as you nod and accept his hand, letting him lead you out of the bar and into the snowy streets, unaware of your coworkers gobsmacked stares

“Where are we going?” you wonder with a laugh, coming to a stop as you wait for the crossing to flick to green, hearing cars hum as they whisk past 

He looks over at you with a toothy grin, turning to face you “Where do you want to go?” he leans down and flicks his nose upwards against yours, causing your heart to swoon and love at first sight suddenly seems like a very real threat “Got anything specific you want to do?” he raises his eyebrows 

“A few” you reveal “One more than the others” you grow brave, eyes locked onto his before they flick quickly down

“What’s stopping you?” he’s whispering now, the hot breath making you to feel lightheaded as he licks his lips

You giggle a little, licking your own before whispering back a soft “I’ve never kissed a stranger before” 

“I kiss too many strangers” he confesses, cheeks tinting but weirdly you don’t feel jealous, something about the way he’s treating you seems just as foreign to him

“If I tell you my name I'm not a stranger anymore” you reply, breathless with how his lips ghost yours "It's Y/n"

“Pretty name for a pretty girl” he states before connecting your lips

It’s softer than you’d thought it would be, sweeter, yet more thrilling than if it was solely fueled by passion. Never would you have thought the playboy boy in denim would kiss like a gentleman, that his hand would cup your cheek, thumb flicking over it like it was the most precious thing in the world 

“Wow” you breathe out, your chests heaving in time together as you pull away, opening your eyes to find his lips are plump, stained slightly around the edges from the remnants of your lipstick and your heart fills with new found pride at your handiwork

“Wow indeed” he lets out a breathy laugh, forehead kissing yours for a second before pulling back  “How does it feel to kiss a stranger?”

“Magical” you reply, looking down at your shoes as your unable to stop the silliest happy from smile taking over your face, but as you glance down at the floor you miss the twinkle in his eyes at your choice of words “How does it feel to kiss a girl called y/n?” you counter when you look back 

“Magical” he repeats your words but his are softer, like it’s the first time he’s truly meant them “I’m Sirius” he finally introduces himself

“Sirius” you confirm and he smiles, nodding “A pretty name for a pretty boy”

Thank you for reading ♡

[aprilthearcher]

willow

remus lupin x muggle!reader (who's a Tarot reader). wc: 1,2k. semi-modern!au. no voldermort apparently. warnings: some curse words, mentions of a spirit. short but sweet!

When I heard the echo of footsteps in the hallway and a jolly tune whistled softly, I knew the session had to be finished. Usually, by the time Remus would get home, my last session would’ve wrapped up over half an hour ago, giving me time to collect myself and tidy the mess the studio fell inevitably into. Today, though, was different. The last client of the day, Tilly, a twenty-four year old girl who believed her destiny was to spend the rest of her life alone, was more agitated than she normally would be. A shook up Tilly was, by no means, anything new; yet, this altered shift to her already altered personality was brought on, surely, by the upcoming Holidays. This time of the year has, definitely, a way to get into people’s heads. 

I hand Tilly the last tissue of the box at the same time I’m standing up and putting the cards away. Some might call it multitasking, I call it “telling my client they must leave”. She dries her tears and murmurs how sorry she is that this took up so much of my time. ‘Nonsense, don’t worry about it’, I murmur back like the complete loser I am, because no amount of work has ever made me move on from my people-pleaser tendencies. She did, in fact, take up a lot of my time, more than what the usual session costs; I should have been ready to go by now.

I open the door to the studio and cough loudly and a little bit more than necessary, but it is a precaution I take every time I have a client leaving and Remus is around. The last thing I need is for one of them to see him using his wand. They might believe in what my cards can tell them about their love lives or job opportunities and new horizons, but I don’t want to have my clients obliviated. 

Discreetly, I look around the flat only to catch Remus putting away the groceries he must’ve got on his way home using his hands, thank God. He looks up wearing a comfortable smile on his face and waves at us. Before Tilly can even utter a word, I take her arm and lead her to the door, charging her more than what I usually do. Without complaining, she slides the bills on my hand.

“Is that your…?” Tilly starts to ask before I interrupt her by opening the door and smiling a little bit too much to be genuine.

“Goodbye, Tilly. See you next time!” I shut the door before she could even realise she’s out of the flat.

Making my way into the kitchen, I jump onto the counter, swinging my legs while I grab a biscuit from one of the jars. Remus is finishing with the groceries, but he’s now using his wand. I admire the fridge opening at the same time some dairies jump from the brown bag and float around the kitchen until they are neatly stored inside the fridge. Next, the lid of the cookie jar by my side starts hovering over it while more cookies enter and fill it; the crumbling of the paper is heard for a second and then it falls into the bin. I look back towards Remus, but instead there is a bag of the sweetest candy floating in front of my face, which immediately lights up. My hands try to grab it, but I’m a second too late and the bag is already flying away from me.

“You know, that’s not a nice thing to do to your non-magical girlfriend, you bastard.”

“Well, what you did to your client is also not a nice thing to do.” Ugh, the nerve. “Also, you’re not non-magical.”

“Am I not, in your world’s term, a simple muggle?”

“Yeah, well, my world can be magical but not updated on muggles. You’re not, not in the least, simple.” The final groceries are put away as Remus approaches me, settling one of his hands on my thigh, climbing till it finally rests on my waist, and the other on my cheek, tilting my head upwards so he can see my face. “That’s not what I was saying, though. You,” stressing and stretching the last sound, “are going to be clientless one day if you keep slamming the door on their faces.”

There’s an unimpressed look on my face, probably from just trying to let him talk and not attack his lips after not seeing him for the entirety of the afternoon. I like the way his voice sounds. It makes it harder to concentrate.

“That look would get you into Slytherin in a second.”

“Your magical world should upgrade in all senses, then. Cannot believe they sort you into houses and there’s a whole rivalry round that. Fuckin’ clich��.” He laughs. Next thing I know, the sight of him drawing his lower lip between his teeth makes me dizzy. I hook my arms round his neck, playing with a few strands of his hair while I sit straight and get closer to his face.

“Missed you,” I whisper.

Remus furrows his eyebrows, incredulous look on his eyes and a teasing smile appearing on his face. “Since when do you say ‘missed you’?”

“Since I’ve just spent the whole afternoon listening to a girl that reminded me too much of myself in my twenties. I hated seeing everyone from my friend group with a girlfriend or getting married to the boy they’ve been with since high school while I was alone or getting ghosted by asshats.” 

“I wasn’t much of a dating guy during my Hogwarts years either,” Remus shrugs his shoulders.

“Still, you were learning fricking magic, flying round in your brooms, making love potions. That has to count for something!” My hands stop playing with his hair to rest into their designated place, his back. From under his festive red and green sweater, I draw circles with the tips of my fingers. “Meanwhile, I was learning Tarot and had a spirit or- or something knock over my books every night.”

“A spirit?”

“Yeah, did I never tell you? Had to call the Supreme Sorceresses to get rid of it.”

“Let me guess, your mum and your aunt?”

“Who else?” 

He laughs again, and Remus is sure he will not get tired of his own laugh; not that it is related to his ego or something, but he loves knowing his laughs are a result of her presence. What else is he supposed to do around her other than laugh? She’s joyful and full of mirth, moving through life with a wicked pack of cards and no wand, creating and leaving magic everywhere she goes in her own way. He knew he would follow her to whatever her mind or those cards would take her. 

He bumps her nose with hers and when she closes her eyes with a smile lightning up her face in anticipation of their lips brushing against each other, he knows he has her. He will have her for as long as she’ll have him.

[emeritusemeritus]

Hi!! If it’s okay, can I please request a (Fred lives au) Fred Weasley x Muggle!fem!reader where it takes place after the Wizarding War, and Fred is wandering around Muggle London, needing a break from the repairs him and George are making on their shop (that had been badly damaged during the war), wanting fresh air to clear his head. He hears a woman scream, very clearly in danger, and he goes to help her, ending up saving Y/n in a dark alley, him using his powers to do so. Leaving Y/n shook (and still scared about the situation). He makes the bad guys (who are also muggles) forget about him using magic, and while he wishes he didn’t have to make Y/n forget as well, as she’s currently clinging to him in shock after he saved her, he still makes her forget. They run into each other again the next day, Y/n not remembering anything from the night before, and they have a lot of chemistry and start dating, and all is going well until Y/n finds out about the night he made her forget, about magic and wizards, and Y/n is upset that he lied to her about it all? Especially upset that they had met before and upset that he made her forget at all, and Fred tries to explain why he had to make her forget. George ends up playing “Parent Trap” to get the both of them in the same room to reconcile? With a happy ending?

Hi my love, full disclosure: I didn’t go full parent trap as I have something in the works a little similar so I hope this is okay for you! 🖤

Warnings: Brief mentions of assault and attempted SA but only one scene. I’ve added asterisks before and after so you can skip past it if you want to avoid. Lying, violence, deception, George meddles, Fred is a bit of a simp. Fred calls us sweetheart. POV change after the time skip. muggle!Reader. Bit of heartbreak, a bit of breakup and makeup. One sexual reference at the end.

Word count: 3.7k

Little bit of liberty taken with this one as I’ve written that spouses of wizards and witches can visit Diagon alley (similar to parents of muggle born kids) as lost as they are accompanied by magic users.

Stupefied

London was always rather bleak this time of year, no matter where you went. It seemed there were roadworks and building works happening in nearly every neighbourhood, workers mingling with the tourists that found to get their photographs in between the newly erected cones, temporary walkways and fences.

It seemed that it wasn't only the wizarding world that had suffered, though Fred doubted this actually had anything to do with Voldemort. Arthur had a theory that the juggle prime minister had funded an effort to 'clear up' London whilst Diagon Alley underwent extensive repairs as to not alert the muggles to the work, noise and sudden influx of workmen disappearing through the entrances to the Alley. Looking at the work sites all around him, Fred was inclined to believe his initially mad conspiracy.

Diagon Alley had been near decimated in the war with deatheaters looting, emptying and burning down stores for no apparent reason. Half of the shopping district had been abandoned, left to rot, the owners fleeing or captured and the other half was essentially destroyed. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had thankfully not fared too badly; it still needed extensive and expensive repairs to the exterior but the inside had been virtually untouched. Fred was eternally thankful of the jinxed he'd put on the premises along with the anti-alohamora charm he'd crafted which had seemed to keep away the deatheaters.

Even though it hadn't fared too badly, he was still exhausted from the repairs. He and George disagreed about what repairs should happen, the priorities and so on, neither if them agreeing if they should improve things or repair them back to the original. Use the full money on repairs or scrimp on the exterior issues and boost for a full restock once they were open. It was a constant battle of wits and opinions, a never ending cycle of unresolved issues and Fred had found that he just had to step out for some fresh air, to clear his head. Discussions around replacing the large figurehead of him and his twin's likeness had been the last straw, pushing him over the edge to the point where he just needed to escape for a bit.

It had fallen dark as he wandered around muggle London, the night time beginning. Due to the building sites and road works littered around, there was virtually no light. Whole clusters of street lamps out of commission with hardly any replacements, leaving this area of London in near darkness. Just as he grumbled to himself about the figurehead, unable to forge it from his mind, a loud, panic filled noise rang out and grabbed his attention. It was a woman screaming, the kind of scream that only happened when you were truly terrified and calling for help.

He knew the sound exactly, having heard it multiple times in the battle. He forced those thoughts out of his head and tried to follow the route that would lead him to where he'd heard the noise, realising he was the only one around to help.

When he ran past a little jitty between two shops, a butchers and a mechanic shop, he froze and retreated upon himself, looking down the dark alley to see a sight that turned his stomach. Three men, all approaching a woman that clearly did not want their company.

*

One was holding her by the throat, pinning her up against the brick wall whilst one's hand began wandering up her leg, pressing something to her throat with the other hand, something that looked silver and sharp, though Fred couldn't exactly see from his place in the shadows of the alley. The third man was just stood there, evidently the lookout, though he was doing a terrible job, choosing instead to watch the woman who was rightfully beside herself in fear.

He couldn't take three men on at once, not if they had muggle weapons. Fred was far from small but he'd never had to truly work with combative skills or fighting as his wand did most the duelling.

It took leas than twenty seconds before he reacted, fuelled by the woman's desperate whimpers as their hands began to wander, all whist threatening her with the blade.

"Stupify!" Fred said clearly but quietly, aiming directly for the third man, the lookout as he hung back in the shadows. The man flew back and hit his head on one of the big bins outback, rendering him unconscious. The man not holding you hostage with the blade turned in shock at what had just happened to his friend, his twisted and demented face turning towards Fred's direction trying to see if anyone was there. When they didn't see anything, both the men looked at each other and gave a disgusting chuckle at their friends expense before turning back to the woman who was still struggling against them.

Fred honestly didn't know if this would work, but he aimed so carefully at the weapon holding arm and cast a quiet 'expelliarmus,' to hopefully disarm the pathetic excuse of a man. It worked, the knife clattering to the floor some distance away as the blokes argued between one another, that they were messing it all up.

"Stupify," he cast once again on the second man who was trying to search for his knife on the ground as he verbally threatened the woman to stay where she was. The man immediately flies back much like his friend, hitting his head on the same dumpster and falling into a slump beside the first one.

The last remaining man looked on in fear, realising he was next. His hand slipped from the woman's neck as he looked upon the slumped bodies of his friends and realised quickly that he was without a weapon.

*

Fred took great pleasure in the full body bind he cast upon the man, rendering his completely still and useless on the floor, as if an invisible net had been cast around him, rendering him useless.

Fred stepped out of the shadows then, not yet replacing his wand as he stepped over to the bound man. He didn't know what had come over him but as he looked at the poor woman who was crying and shaking, he felt rage like never before.

His eyes were filled with pure rage, hateful anger filling his body as the man on the floor noticed him, fear filling his eyes at whatever he had done to him.

Fred pushed aside his anger as he turned to you, throwing his jacket over you and offered some calming words which he hoped would help you even slightly. Suddenly, you threw yourself at him and he accepted you into his arms without any thought, trying to calm your frayed nerves as you clung onto his body.

He aimed his wand at the two men who were mostly unconscious, though the first was beginning to come around with a groggy groan. He knew he didn't have time to get you away before he needed to do this and began obliviating the two slumped men.

He then turned to the third who looked utterly terrified at what Fred had done, unable to talk, move or get away from the mad man with a stick of wood.

"I hope this hurts," Fred says dangerously low as he points his wand directly at the man's head, ensuring the tip of the wood was ever so slightly sticking into the flesh of the man's forehead before he obliviates him.

As soon as it's done, he pockets hits wand and turns to face the woman, wrapping her in his arms as her silent cries lessen. She's so cold, so scared, it makes his heart ache. He was only wearing a work uniform from a local pub, evidently walking back home from her shift and it makes him feel even worse when he realises you were just going about your day, completely oblivious and undeserving.

"It'll be okay, you're safe now I promise," he says soothingly, not wanting to touch her outright after what had so nearly happened but still wanting to give her comfort.

"What, what did you do?" She asks with a sniffle, clearly a little afraid of what had happened.

"Better I don't explain," he says, cursing himself for having no other way of protecting you. "Where do you live? I need to know you get home safely."

When she doesn't reply, he realises his mistake.

"Sorry, it's okay not to tell me, I just want you to be safe. Do you have somewhere to go?"

He feels her nod against his shoulder and exhales the breath he hardly realised he'd been holding. He knows what he has to do but as he looks down at her frightened and rather pretty form clinging so desperately to him, he realises how much he doesn't want to. He wants her to forget what happened with the men, knows she needs to forget what she'd seen him do but the idea that she'd forget all about him made him feel disproportionally sad.

He holds his breath as he slowly pulls out his wand and holds it up towards her back, feeling guilty and wrong about what he's doing as he battles his raging inner monologue.

"Obliviate," he says gently, watching as the blue tendrils of the spell erupt and consume her. He has to be quick, pulling his jacket away from her shoulders and stepping away, walking quickly out of the alley. He doesn't want to leave her, his brain fighting every step that he takes but he can't stay, without an excuse as to why he was there.

He considers watching her as she walks home, checking that she made it back okay but he knows that would look worse. He couldn't have her be scared of him.

When he gets back to the shop, almost completely consumed by worry, he ignores George's rant completely, agreeing to whatever his twin wanted. He hardly sleeps that night, worried for her. He knows it's wrong but she was so pretty, so scared, it's like she'd imprinted onto his brain. Maybe he needed to be obliviated to forget her.

The next morning, he's up bright and early having abandoned any chance of sleeping. He remembers the logo on her work uniform and wants to check that she was alright, hoping that she might be there by now. He knows he can't mention that night, or ever meeting before but he can at least try to calm his mind if he saw her alive and well.

He never even made it into the pub, bumping into you on the way there. He smiled widely when he saw no lasting damage, no trauma and that you hadn't gotten frostbite or pneumonia from your extended time in the alley. In the daylight he realised you were absolutely beautiful and he took full advantage of your 'accidental run in', asking you out on the spot.

You thought it was strange that he didn't have a phone, or any real concept of technology but it all became clear six months into your relationship when he revealed his big secret, that he could use magic.

The conversation was approached with caution, having gathered tips from his siblings and his dad on how to proceed. You'd actually taken it surprisingly well, though if course you were shocked and disbelieving at first. It helped that you'd gotten really close with George and that he'd also assured you that they weren't pulling a prank on you. It all took a while to sink in with Fred slowly opening up more and more about his world. There were things you loved about it, and things that you found odd but that was the nature of growing up so differently. You'd met his family and been in complete amazement at their weird and wonderful home and they had been unbelievably warm and welcoming, making you feel like family already. You'd seen the incredible shop he and his brother had opened and had been amazed by everything in there. You'd moved in together, certain that you were endgame for each other. You saw how everybody in the wizarding world loved them, their inventions and it warmed your heart to know that you'd chosen a good guy.

It all came crashing down when you began talking about how you met, one night in your flat over a bottle of wine on your one year anniversary. Naturally, you assumed that it had been a coincidental run in that morning near your work, a fated moment where you met your soulmate. From that moment you just couldn't stop talking, couldn't be apart. Your relationship moved quickly but it felt right in every way, never giving you reason to puse or think twice. You were certain you'd never seen him before; you'd definitely have remembered his fire red hair, wide shoulders, gorgeous towering height and that beautifully mischievous smile. Fred however, had accidentally let it slip that it hadn't been your first encounter really, his eyes widening in panic when your eyes snapped up to his in utter confusion, realising he had said too much.

You managed to extract the truth from him eventually, the whole truth. He'd saved you, but then wiped your memory. You felt dirty, betrayed.

Knowing that those men had had their hands all over you, of what they wanted to do, it made your stomach roil dangerously until you were throwing up your celebratory anniversary meal. You couldn't look Fred in the eye, the strong sense of betrayal making you want to run away from him, feeling like you couldn't trust him at all. Everything was built on a lie, your entire relationship, the home and the life you'd built together, talks of the future.

You left that night to go back to your parents, scrubbing yourself raw in the shower at just how dirty you felt, how wrong you felt in your own skin. It had been nearly a month and you hadn't seen him once. You'd ignored his letters, thankful that he didn't have a phone because you'd be ignoring that too. You'd taken time off work so he couldn't find you there and had openly avoided any place in London that he might think to look for you- especially avoiding anywhere close to Diagon Alley. He'd come in and changed your life completely, given you hope for a wild and adventure filled future and then spoilt it all.

And the worst part is that you couldn't explain to anyone why. You didn't know a single other magical soul who wasn't directly or indirectly related to Fred and you couldn't exactly explain to your muggle friends and family the exact reason that you'd left him. The questioning from your parents was exhausting, wanting to know what happened between you and that 'sweet boy', your parents already considering him their son in law. But you couldn't say anything and so you remained vague, taking their questioning and opinions on the chin, taking the hit for him.

He saved you that night, you reminded yourself. It wasn't as if he was the one that had done you any harm, he'd actually saved you from getting hurt. Logically you knew that he had to wipe your memory, it was in their statue of secrecy, an unspoken code of conduct for the wizarding world. But still, the lingering feeling of betrayal never went away. Your relationship had been a lie, he had been a lie.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when you received a letter by owl that you'd nearly immediately thrown in the bin until you watched the owl fly away, noticing that it was a different colour to the one Fred usually used. You looked at the letter and noticed that it wasn't his writing but rather a smaller, more cursive font that wasn't as heavily scribbled as his was.

George.

You immediately felt guilty, realising that not only had you left Fred that night but you'd also left George in the dust, abandoning him as well. He wrote to say how much he missed you, that he was sorry and that he didn't know. He asked you to meet him at the leaky cauldron on Friday, if you still wanted to be friends, regardless of his brother.

You began to write back only to realise that you'd sent the owl away, that you'd have no chance of getting the message to him. Your only option was to meet him there Friday.

To say you were nervous was an understatement, trying to blend into the background as you walked through the opening of the cauldron, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the witches and wizards bustling about inside.

"Y/n!" You heard from the side, a little booth that wrapped around a brick pillar off to the side and you smiled when you saw George waving at you. You walked towards him, feeling a little calmer as he pulled you into a brief hug, asking how you were.

"Oh merlin, I left my wallet in my room," he says with a frown, looking at the staircase.

"Room?"

"Yeah, had to do some repairs to the flat so I've been staying here, bastard twin took the room at mums." You try not to react at the mention of his twin but your eye inadvertently flinches, forcing you to look away.

"It's okay I can get them," you began to say only to be cut off by George as he gives you a knowing smirk.

"Oh yeah, got a load of galleons in that bag?"

"Right, wizard money," you say with a frown, not having even considered that. "I might have some left over in here."

"It's okay, why don't we nip up to my room, it's only up there, be back in two minutes. If I leave you alone they might ask you to leave."

The smile on your face that had been there since reuniting with George disappeared the second you stepped into the room and saw a slightly broader version of George sat on the bed. At first you hoped it was just a mirror but when he turned to glare at his brother, you knew it was Fred instantly.

"Really George?" You said in frustration, turning to see him looking at you with a guilty and almost sad expression.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted you two to talk. I can't take his moping anymore," he says, gesturing towards Fred who still gives a thunderous look towards his brother.

"I told you not to get involved!" Fred says loudly towards his twin, the anger evident in his eyes.

"I missed her too," George argues but it's weak under the venomous glare of his twin. "Fine," he relents, feeling the double glare coming from both your and Fred.

"Just let me," he says slowly before quickly opening the door and closing it behind you. You hear the key turning in the lock and bolt to the door, trying to open it. You look to Fred who appears by your side, banging on the door and trying to pry the handle open but it was unless.

"He's jinxed it," he says in annoyance, turning to look for his wand that was on the table but is longe there. "Git's stolen my wand!"

"There aren't any repairs on the flat are there?" You ask, realising he'd fooled you completely.

"I haven't been back since we," he says, all anger dropping from his tense figure as he looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes.

"I meant at the shop, George's flat," you say, feeling a little awkwardly.

You look up at him in confusion when you hear him snort out a laugh. "That was what he told you?"

"How was I meant to know?" You asked sharply, not liking the laugh he'd given you because you fell for his trick.

"No I didn't mean, never mind." he says quickly, defensively before he breaks off his speech mid sentence, sighing and taking a seat on the bed.

It's painfully awkward as you take a seat at the little desk in the corner, Fred sitting on the bed. The room is small, completely taken up by the wooden four poster bed and it leaves little room for you to avoid each other.

"I," Fred says after a while, breaking the tense silence. "I'm so sorry."

Your eyes slowly trail up to him to see him looking at you with wide and emotion filled eyes. "I should have told you, I should have done more so that you knew but I really thought I was doing the right thing."

"You did."

You watch as his eyes bulge at your words, as soon as they sink it. His wide eyes suddenly merge to a look of confusion as he ponders your reply.

"You did do the right thing, at least for the wizarding community. A muggle saw what happened, you had to fix that," you say quietly with a little shrug, looking away from him. "I understand why; I just hate that you hid it from me for so long."

"I know," he replies, "there was just never a right time. I couldn't tell you until you knew about me but by then I was already so in love with you that I couldn't risk losing you so I kept quiet."

You can feel his gaze on you but you don't look at him, worried that if you looked at him now your heart would break all over again. You never expected love to be so complicated, never knew that with great love came great heartbreak.

“I miss you sweetheart.”

Those four simple words broke your resolve completely, shattering whatever resentment you were holding on to completely.

You finally look at him, really look and you can see that he looks tormented, like he’s not been sleeping right. You miss him too; you want your old life back, where you were happy together.

“No more lies,” you say, fixing him with a soft but meaningful glance, laying out your terms.

“No more lies,” he agrees, a hopeful smile tugging at his lips as he watches you slowly stand and make your way over to him, the past forgiven and forgotten.

When George enters the room an hour later, checking on the progress and to see that you were both still alive, he sees a lot more than he bargained for… and certainly more of Fred’s arse than he ever wanted to see.

[sazz1981-blog]

Our Dirty Blood. Remus Lupin/Muggle Riddle Character

Bell Riddle inherits her grandparents house during the summer of 1994. One night after a usual day, she finds two strange men in her home with a horrific baby creature that the men call My Lord. It turns out this Lord needs her blood for some kind of ritual that will bring him back to life. How will she handle the truth that her long-lost uncle is an evil wizard? How will she handle it when she finds herself in a magic school under the protection of the Order of the Pheonix? How will she handle falling in love with a werewolf who has taken it upon himself to protect her?

Chapter 1: The Old House

The Riddle House stood tall and proud on the August night. As usual, the house was dim and hardly lit. The dark past of the house seemed to be a constant reminder to Bell Riddle.

Bell was the current owner of the large house, having inherited it from her father, whose name was Christopher Riddle, who had recently moved away. Her father’s parents, Tom Riddle and Cecilia Riddle, were killed only a few weeks after he was born. Along with his paternal grandparents, they all died in the very house Bell now occupied. Bell's father was found the next day unharmed in his cot, sleeping as if it were any other day, as if his family had not been killed. The cause of their deaths was always a mystery, but the police put it down to heart failure. Her father had ended up being taken in by a family friend and was raised with all the love a child needs. When he was around eighteen, he decided to visit The Riddle House, as he owned it after his parents’ deaths.

The house had basically remained untouched for those eighteen years, and when Bell's father went, he ended up finding multiple letters addressed to his father from a woman called Merope. In the letter, this Merope woman was begging Tom Riddle to take her back after she had found out that she was pregnant. The letters continued throughout Merope’s pregnancy when they stopped, and the final letter was from an orphanage called Wool’s Orphanage explaining that Merope had died while in childbirth and that her son was with them. Her father had spent years after finding the letters hunting down his long-lost older brother but to no avail. The Wool’s Orphanage had explained that the young boy had gone to go to a boarding school for gifting children when he was eleven. Bells Father went to nearly every boarding school in the country but could not find any traces of his brother. Eventually he gave up trying and moved to Edinburgh to pursue a career as a doctor. It was at his first job that he met Bell's mother, Nancy, and the two eventually married and had Bell in 1970.

In 1994, Bell's parents decided to move to Canada for a fresh start, while Bell chose to stay in England to start her new job as an English teacher. The job she got was in the same town as her father’s old house, so he suggested she stay there. Her father assured her that the caretaker, Frank, would look after her, and he did. He had helped her settle in her first week. Even though some parts of the house gave her the creeps, it started to grow on her. That was until one night after having dinner with Frank she was cleaning the plates by the window when a light was switched on from her house. There should not have been anyone in there.

“Frank, come look at this.’’ Bell said as she gestured for Frank to come over from the kettle.

When Frank approached, he frowned with an expression that could only be described as angry. Bell sensed that people trying to break into the big scary house was something that Frank had to deal with on a regular basis. A shiver ran down Bells spine at the thought of that.

“Damn kids, stay here; I will sort them out.'' Frank grumbled as he made his way to the front door. His old age was making him limp, and he seemed tired. Bell felt a heavy feeling of guilt at having an old man fight her battles.

“No, I will go. You can phone the police,’’ Bell had just started saying, but Frank had already closed the door on his way out. Bell watched from the window as Frank dragged himself up the hill to the house that Bell was still struggling to call home. She let out a worried puff of air as Frank entered the front entrance to the house. As the heavy door closed shut behind him, Bell made her to the phone to call for help. She didn’t want to get some silly kids in trouble, but she had to make sure that she and Frank were safe. Just as the ringing on the phone started, there was a bright green light that came from inside her house. It was quick and bright in Bell's eyes, and it made her drop the phone, causing the phone to break and the call to disconnect. Her first thought was that they had set off a bloody fire in her house. Her second thought was that if whoever was up there had hurt Frank, she was going to go mental.

Deciding not to be a coward, she made her way up the hill. The house was completely silent and dead again, completely still. Making sure the front door opened silently, she snuck her way in and shut the door behind her.

If she could get to her own phone, then she could call for help there. Still mindful not to make any sound, she made her way up the stairs to the living room that had the phone. Halfway up, she heard the voice of men she definitely did not know. The voices were too muffled to make out what they were saying, but their tones did not sound friendly at all. Freezing for a second, Bell took her moment to decide her next steps. She stared ahead at the portrait of her grandfather, who stared back at her with cold eyes. She took a small step back and cursed when the squeak of the floor echoed in the wide hall. The muffled voices stopped, and Bell was about to make a run for it when they started talking again. Her heartbeat quickened as she noticed that Frank had yet to show up.

Making the decision, she made her way further up the stairs until she could see the top of the floor, and her heart sank. At the top of the stairs just outside the living room, Frank lay on his back completely still. His eyes were open, but there was no light in them as they looked back at Bell. His chest was motionless. He was dead. His body left, disregarded by his killers, who shut the door of the livingroom. Abandoning Frank to the cold and dark hallway.

Part 2

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60373573/chapters/154097785#workskin

Notes: Thanks for reading.

[riddlesbunny]

P✩rnstar

summary: After break, you bring a video camera back to Hogwarts from the muggle world and teach Mattheo how to use it.

pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Muggleborn!Reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: Explicit smut, recording sexual acts, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, hair pulling, creampie 18+ MDNI

note: Inspo for this was the song by nessa barrett and idk how good this is bc I’ve gone like a month without writing!! 🙈

Mattheo is just lounging in bed twirling his wand between his fingers as you enter. He’s expecting you, already dressed for bed, cozy in his pajamas. His brows furrow as he catches sight of the device in your hands.

“What in Merlin’s name is that?” he asks, straightening up.

“A video camera, I brought it from home, I forgot to show you,” you say, plopping down beside him on the bed. “It records things—moving images, but more intricate than our photos, sounds. Like a memory, but without needing a Pensieve.”

His interest piques and reaches for it, turning it over in his hands, “Muggle invention?”

You nod, “I thought it’d be fun to bring back from break. I can show you how it works.”

Mattheo smirks,  “so, I can capture you talking about how stunning I am and replay it whenever I like?”

Rolling your eyes, you flip open the screen and power it on, “something like that.”

You show him the record button, how to zoom, how to frame a shot. He watches, fascinated, as the lens captures your surroundings, the tiny screen displaying everything in real-time.

“Alright,” you say, leaning back. “Your turn.”

Mattheo lifts the camera, hesitating for only a second before pointing it at you. 

“What do I do?”

“Just… record me, all you have to do is point the camera at me.”

The red light blinks on, and suddenly, you are under his gaze in a way you’d never been before. His attention was always intense, but now it was focused through the lens, tracing your every movement.

“Say something,” he prompts, his voice softer than before.

“Hiii, Matty,” you drawl, tossing your hair seductively before Mattheo adjusts the camera towards you and you drop down to your knees, cozying up to him. You rub your face on his inner thigh and gaze into the lens through your lashes.

Your run your palms over the light bulge in front of you, feeling him grow harder.

You press your lips to his inner thigh, leaving a trail of wet kisses all the way up until you reach his cock that now strains against his pajama shorts.

Your eyes never leave the camera as you run your tongue along the length of his shaft through the thin fabric. He shifts slightly, granting you easier access as he murmurs in encouragement.

With a wicked grin, you hook your fingers under the waistband of Mattheo's pyjamas and slide them down, freeing his now rock-hard cock. It bobs heavily in front of your face, already glistening with pre-cum.

The camera whirs softly, recording every salacious moment. You look right into its unblinking eye as you lean forward and circle the head of your boyfriend’s cock.

Your tongue swirls around the tip, as you taste the saltiness of his arousal. You glance up at him then back at the camera, lips parted, so inviting.

His thick cock throbs between your lips, filling your mouth slowly as you ease yourself onto it.

A low groan rumbles in his chest as he watches you sink deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you suck him greedily. Your pace quickens, alternating between long, languid sucks and flicking your tongue across his most sensitive spots.

With a sultry smile, you pop Mattheo's cock out of your mouth and slowly start jerking him off while meeting the camera with your lust-filled eyes.

"Mmm," you purr, "doesn’t that feel good?" Your hand pumps faster now, working Mattheo's slicked-up length, while your other hand massages his swollen balls. His hips twitch in response, fighting the urge to thrust into your grip.

"Y-yes, but I need to be inside you," Mattheo moans, and you release your grasp, his cock standing tall, still glistening.

"Gotta be patient, baby," you say, waiting a few moments before you untie your own pyjama pants, kicking them off of you.  Your panties follow suit, revealing your pussy already soaked with anticipation. You crawl forward onto the bed, presenting yourself to the camera, ass high in the air.  On hands and knees, you position yourself perfectly for Mattheo, giving him– and the camera— a full view of your drenched pussy. You look over your shoulder at him, as you bite down on your lower lip. 

“God,” Mattheo moans, “you’re perfect, the prettiest pussy in all of Hogwarts, I’d wager. Be a good girl and spread your legs for me.” 

You blush furiously at his words but do as he says.

It is not long before his index finger is tracing your thick folds, sliding up and down your slit, teasing you mercilessly. Your cheeks burn red at the thought of being so exposed on camera, but the naughtiness of it all turns you on.

Mattheo maneuvers behind you, rubbing the tip of his rigid cock against your cunt. 

You can feel your heartbeat in your pussy and your toes threaten to curl as you beg, "Please Matty... don't tease me."

With one fluid movement, he slides into you, claiming you completely. He fists your hair, using it to tilt your head back farther so the camera can capture your expression as he begins to move inside you.

A deep, guttural moan escapes you as Mattheo’s thick length stretches your tightness deliciously. He pulls back, almost sliding completely out before slamming home again and you gasp, your walls clamping down around him.

His balls slap against your ass as he picks up speed, fucking you wildly, hitting the spongey spot deep within you perfectly.

You moan shamelessly, the sound echoing off the stone walls of the empty dorm room.

“That’s it, Matty. Yes, fuck me!"

Mattheo's grip tightens in your hair as his strokes become more insistent, drawing hoarse cries from deep within you. You feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you, stretching you open.

His thumb finds it’s way to your clit, circling it in time with each powerful thrust, making you squirm and buck against him, that familiar coil of pleasure winding inside you. 

Your breathing becomes ragged as Mattheo's steady rhythm quickens, your pussy pulsing around his throbbing cock. He groans appreciatively, loving the feeling of being so utterly enveloped by your tight warmth.

"Fuck, Matty," you hiss as his pace becomes increasingly relentless, your body pinned by his weight,  “so... close.."

You cry out loudly as Mattheo hits your deepest spot, sending shivers coursing through your entire being, and the heat building inside you reaches a crescendo— the tight winding coil threatening to snap.

"I’m close too, cum with me, baby," Mattheo grunts, leaning forward to plant a rough kiss on the sensitive spot where your jaw meets your neck. His breath comes hot against your ear as he whispers, 'I'm gonna fill you up, pretty girl."

The sensation is too much, hitting you like a thunderclap. Spasms wrack your body uncontrollably as you erupt into an explosive orgasm, pulsing and squeezing Mattheo's cock.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being filled up with my cum?”

Your vision blurs momentarily, stars dancing behind your closed eyelids.

The ache in your core only intensifies, that familiar tremble gripping you tight.

Mattheo's pace never falters as he feels your walls pulsating around him. He growls into your ear, "that’s my good little slut, milk my dick with that tight cunt."

Your release triggers his own as Mattheo keeps driving into you, his cock swelling further before a rush of warmth spills into you, filling you completely.

Mattheo collapses onto you, spent yet still hard inside you. His hands caress your sides, tracing lines on your heated skin as he catches his breath.

You can feel his heart pounding against your back. You let out a satisfied sigh, reveling in the warm feeling of Mattheo's cum dripping out of your pussy and trickling onto the sheets.

You roll onto your back and in an instant Mattheo is between your legs with the camera directed straight at your swollen cunt. Instinctively you try to clamp your legs shut, but he rips them open with his free hand.

“Now’s not the time to shy away from me, baby. C’mon, let’s see that pretty pussy.”

You do as Mattheo instructs, parting your legs wider, fully exposing yourself once more. His gaze is intense, taking all of you in. He moves even closer, still filming, until his face is inches away from your wet slit.

He places a quick kiss to your cunt before he quickly shuts the camera off, fumbling around and shoving it into his bedside drawer, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“Yeaaah, I’m gonna be watching that everyday for the rest of my life.”

[crescenthistory]

barty and his polar opposite daughter

synopsis: based on this post, barty raises a sweet girl who winds up being the polar opposite of himself – a polite, emphatic, pink-loving, tea-having little princess – and he adores her for it. while walking in the park, they meet a stranger with a dog that infatuates the both of them.

wc: 3.8k

cw: fem!reader, girl dad!barty, kid fic, single parent, modern muggle au, barty pov, ophelia being a whimsical polite sweetheart, meet-cute in the park, fluff, playing fetch, flirting, physical affection, implied that barty’s mum is dead, wider world building that includes reader working at the valkyries welfare community centre and barty being a mechanic

Barty is incredibly proud of two things – the perfect little girl on his shoulders, and his impeccable trapezius keeping her up.

Ophelia is his sweetheart, both in the sense that he adores her more than anything in the world and that she is a literal sweetheart, kind through and through. More often than not, Barty wondered how the two of them could possibly have been cut from the same cloth, although the physical resemblance is undeniable. Her dark brown curls mix with his own from where she sits, his acid green streaks and her pink bows the only way to determine where hers starts and his ends.

There had been many potential last straws for Barty to finally ditch the Crouch family, but only when his uncle Silas birthed yet another illegitimate child and decided to just “dump this one in foster care”, did Barty throw in the towel. At that point he had only seen Ophelia once, sleeping in a bassinet, but he was already enamoured. There was just something about her that screamed for him to finally do something more than just piss his father off. Maybe it was her chubby cheeks, maybe it was how she reminded him of that picture he always treasured of his mother holding him as a baby, but that was enough for him.

He had a secure enough found family by then that he could up and leave and take the kid. He vowed that Ophelia would not have the childhood he did; she would be herself no matter who that may be. His father called him crazy, and Barty called him all sorts of names in return. His friends had their doubts, he’s sure of it, but Pandora and Evan helped him buy a flat in a safe neighbourhood on the outskirts of London, Regulus helped him get legal custody, and Dorcas taught him everything he needed to know about babies to begin with. The rest he learned along the way.

It worked, even as Ophelia quickly became a fierce personality in her own right. At just three, she was an utter angel and his whole world.

If he could say so himself, he thought he had this parent thing under control, believe it or not.

She sits on top of his shoulders as he walks the two of them through Regent’s Park – her favourite in London – while her small hands are buried in his hair to steer him as she called it, grabbing onto the green strands specifically. She’s wearing her Princess Aurora replica dress, pink and fluffy, the excess fabric spilling down his back, covering his Sex Pistols t-shirt.

They look fabulous together, thank you very much.

“Good morning, loves!” Ophelia calls and waves enthusiastically, voice melodic as it cuts through the fresh breeze. Barty turns his head ever so slightly to see the elderly couple passing them on the path, just barely catching how the man furrows his brows in surprise while the lady smiles brightly and returns the greeting.

Barty squeezes Ophelia’s plush thighs where he holds her securely, ensuring she can dance and wave on his shoulders without falling off. Her glittery blinking trainers shoot directly into his line of sight as she kicks her feet and giggles when a jogger waves at her as they pass.

“D’you want to run too, Ophie?” he asks, turning his head backwards to grin at her. 

“Yes, yes!” Ophelia wastes no time in agreeing, clutching onto Barty even tighter in preparation. “Run, horsey!”

He has never been above making a fool of himself. Barty holds onto Ophelia with his ringed fingers and begins to run along the path by the lake, keeping his back slightly bent to not jostle her as much.

Ophelia cheers, bending her head to rest it beside Barty’s for protection from the increase in wind – it makes it so that her giggles trickle directly into his ear. Barty can’t help but grin, the two of them a flash of black and pink as he gallops for the little girl.

“Dada, look, it’s a doggy!” She abruptly declares, trying to push his head sideways to look.

Barty slows down, straightening up a little to look in the direction Ophelia is trying to gesture him towards. It takes him a second, but then he spots it.

Though, while Ophelia is already squiggling to get off of his shoulders to run to greet the puppy, Barty finds himself a little preoccupied with its owner. On the open field beside the lake, a lovely, lovely woman is smiling so brightly it almost cuts him apart and compels the pieces to run towards her.

And sure, yes, she has a dog with her.

“Hello, Dada?” Ophelia’s voice pulls him out of his momentary stupor, particularly because it sounds a little softer, her earlier excitement replaced with empathy, as if sensing his distraction.

Her sweet kindness is wasted on him, so Barty squeezes her thighs once more and replies, “Yes baby, that’s a little puppy for sure. Want to go say hi?”

She grins, concern immediately forgotten as she lets go of his hair in favour of clapping her tiny hands together. “Yes please, I would very much like that, I want to say hi to the doggy.”

Barty looks back towards the one who caught his attention earlier – only to see that he had caught hers. Or, a better way of phrasing that statement, would be that Ophelia and her cheers had caught her attention.

You straighten up from where you had been scratching your dog’s head, clearly rewarding her with something, and smile warmly, albeit somewhat cautiously, as you watch the two of them approaching. You pull your dog closer to you by the collar and Barty can just barely catch you giving her a “stay” command. 

He is about to open his mouth to announce themselves, but is cut off by his little wingwoman. “Hi, love, good morning!” Ophelia greets happily. “Can I please pet your beautiful doggy?”

Any apprehension he might have scouted in your expression previously melts away as softness appears in your eyes. It feels like you’re looking at him, but he can tell you’re meeting Ophelia’s eyes.

“Of course, angel, so long as your adult agrees.” Your voice is different than he had expected it to be, your accent engulfing him. Barty finds himself disproportionately intrigued by you, but he has never been one to deny himself of interest.

Dutifully, Ophelia leans sideways to look at her father properly, making him tighten his hold on her lest she fall. Already as she begins to politely inquire if she is allowed, he is crouching down, black jeans constricting around his knees, to let her off. 

“There you go, princess,” he says as he eases her off his shoulders and onto the ground, her trainers immediately blinking in the colours of the rainbow. “Make sure to let the dog smell your hand first, ‘kay?”

He looks up to watch as you follow his movements in crouching down, sitting parallel beside your dog so that you’re on Ophelia’s level. “Hiya darling, what’s your name?” you ask sweetly.

“I am Ophelia, I am three years old,” Ophelia recites as she reaches out her hand for the dog to smell. Barty can’t tell what type of dog it is yet, but it has kind brown eyes. 

“Wow! Three is quite big,” you muse, looking over to catch Barty’s eye, sharing a moment of connection before you look back to her. “This right here is Flora, she’s just a little younger than you at 2 years old.”

Ophelia gasps. “She’s a baby!”

Barty looks down with a grin, leaning his elbows on top of his knees as he watches Flora sniff Ophelia’s hand happily before bending her neck to let his little girl scratch her.

“Oh yes, she is,” you agree in a conspiratory voice. “Who’s the adult you’ve brought with you today?”

Ophelia lights up and removes one of the hands that were buried deep in Flora’s fur to turn around slightly and point at Barty who’s sat almost directly behind her. “This is my Dada! His name is BeeBee and I’m baby.” She pronounces baby as bay-bee so that it rhymes with BeeBee.

If Barty wasn’t so damn proud of her, he might have been a bit embarrassed by his soft side being exposed to this stranger so soon. Luckily, these past three years with Ophelia has made him both softer and stronger.

“I’m Barty,” he offered, meeting your gaze with his own steady one, taking in the movement of your lips and the shine in your eyes. “I’m her father. And you are…?”

Your voice was almost breathless when you let out your name. It fit you perfectly and he found himself repeating it in a whisper.

Any time spent lingering in the moment was cut off when Ophelia loudly coos at Flora and steps closer to embrace the dog in a slightly awkward but no less adorable hug. You break out into laughter at the sight and at how Flora looks a bit concerned up at you, though making no attempts to push Ophelia away.

Barty shimmies closer to his daughter without standing back up to his full height to pull Ophelia slightly backwards and hoist her onto his knee. “Let’s give Floralita some space, alright baby, hm?” he asks, looking down at her as he makes sure she’s comfortable and still at petting-distance.

“She’s very patient, it’s alright,” you reassure him.

Ophelia seems nonplussed, smiling wildly at Barty. “Alrighty, Dada, kisses,” she declares, pressing a kiss to his cheek and then another to Flora’s head. ” Then, she gestures towards you. “Would you like a kiss too, Missy?”

Your lips part slightly and Barty prepares to protect Ophelia’s heart, but then you just cock your head sideways and nod. “Oh yes please, how kind of you baby.”

Barty finds the corner of his lips quirk upwards and his heart stutters as you lean closer, almost all the way into his and Ophelia’s embrace, so that Ophelia can stamp a sweet kiss to your cheek, making an exaggerated mwah! sound. 

You look between the both of them, warmth only slightly more reserved towards Barty than towards Ophelia. “Do you two angels have somewhere to be, or would you like to play some with Flora? I was about to have her fetch.” You add while looking at Barty, “We’re still training her, but so far she’s very well-behaved and kind.”

“I can tell,” Barty finds himself agreeing readily. He discreetly kisses Ophelia’s temple before popping her off of his knee and back onto the ground. “This angel,” he says, gesturing to Ophelia, “insisted on a park day, so that’s what her poor old man shall provide. You wanna play fetch, don’t you, Ophie?”

Ophelia nod enthusiastically while you laugh and claimc “You’re not old.”

“I’m not?” Barty raises his brow playfully. “How would you know, stranger?”

You level him with a look. “You’re clearly my age, Barty, so watch it.”

Hearing you say his name did something to him. Ophelia quickly turned the atmosphere into a comedic one when she furrows her brows and says, “No, no, Dada is old. But that’s alright! No shame in aging.”

Before either of you can really say anything, just laugh loudly, she runs forward a bit and does a cartwheel. Barty can’t tell for certain, but Flora seems wholly confused at what his little girl was doing.

You’re still laughing, your brows all scrunched up. “She is such a sweet thing, ain’t she?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Barty agrees, standing up at last, his carabiner with his keys and Ophelia’s trinkets clinkering with his movement. 

He holds his hand out to you to help you up from where you’re still sitting on your knees, watching Ophelia spin in circles around you. For a beat, you hold his gaze, watching him tower above you. 

Barty’s heart eases when you reach out and clasp onto his hand, letting him pull you up – and if it allows him to show off all his mechanic muscles, then that was just a win-win. Your fingers linger around his wrist for a moment before you let go, colder than they ought to be on a June morning but a pleasant sensation nonetheless.

“Look at this, Ophelia.” You take off your backpack and balance it on a hiked up knee to sort through it while you’re standing. Wordlessly, Barty reaches out to hold the backpack for you so you can rummage more easily; you glance up at him briefly and mumble your thanks before fishing out the chewtoy you were looking for. You hold it up victoriously and Ophelia makes an audible sound of excitement. “C’mere lovely, let me show you.”

Barty zips the bag up for you and rests it over his shoulder as he watches you hand Flora’s toy to Ophelia. It is bright blue and sturdy, looking ridiculously large in his Ophie’s small hands. You gently explain how to throw it and what commands you will give Flora to get her to drop it once she’s come back with it.

“We call this enrichment,” you explain, eyes meeting Ophelia’s with so much patience and kindness that even Barty can feel it. “It’s how Flora relaxes and have fun. Wanna try?”

Ophelia nods, almost gravely, like she has been given a task of utmost importance. Flora sits beside you, tongue hanging out and ears perked up at the sight of her toy. 

Your hand covers Ophelia’s on the toy as you bring it backwards, ready to throw. “Then right before you throw it, you say ‘Flora, go fetch’!”

“Flora, go fetch!” Ophelia’s voice is a bit too soft spoken for the task, but with your help the toy goes flying quite far and Flora gets the gist regardless. The dog goes running at an impressive speed across the open grass and Ophelia loudly cheers and giggles.

You do this a few times, Barty watching with his hip popped sideways and the corners of his mouth perpetually twitching. This sight was more than he expected to be blessed with on their morning walk.

Eventually, Ophelia turns to you and asks, “Missy, can I go fetch as well?”

Barty snorts. You look back at him with a smile, as if asking permission, and he shrugs. “Sure thing darling, but you can’t fetch Flora’s toy or else she’ll be sad. You can go fetch this one, alright?” 

You rummage through your jacket pocket and produce a green squishy heart that looks suspiciously like a stress ball. Ophelia inspects it for less than a second before agreeing.

You get Flora to stay when you throw Ophelia’s ball, so she won’t be confused, and then you issue the same command, this time voice laced with laughter. “Alright, Ophelia, go fetch!” 

The ball goes flying in the opposite direction that Flora was chasing in, and Ophelia immediately goes running after it on her much slower, short legs, giggles flowing through the air as she goes.

Barty moves closer to you then, reaching down to pet Flora consolingly himself – although the dog is as close to smiling as a canine could get, so he’s not very concerned for her.

“Why does she call me Missy?” you ask, almost startling Barty. He turns to find a subdued smile on your face, clearly entertained by the duo you’ve met today.

“Oh, Ophie is very polite,” Barty laughs. “It’s important to her. And she’ll call everyone pet names, I think it’s her auntie’s fault. If you want her to call you something else, you can always just ask. She’s usually happy regardless.”

“She’s definitely a happy kid, yeah,” you agree. “I don’t mind it, I just found it entertaining.”

Barty looks after Ophelia, who’s caught the ball and tucked it into her dress pocket – the ones she had Dorcas sew into all her dresses – and is now cartwheeling her way back. He should get her to stop soon lest she get nauseous, but she looks too cute to intervene just yet.

“Who’s ‘we’?” Barty finds himself asking instead.

“Pardon?”

“When you talk about Flora, you say ‘we’, that ‘we’re training her’. Who’s we?” 

That most certainly was a line of questioning Barty had no business raising, but what are neglected boundaries between a pair of freshly made acquaintances? 

If you thought him inappropriate, you did a good job of concealing it as you looked down at Flora with a smile, no doubt catching sight of Barty’s tattooed knuckles rubbing behind her ear.

“Flora here is an Emotional Support Animal at this community centre I help out at,” you begin to explain, a faraway look entering your eyes, one that is full of pride. “We collaborate with a nearby shelter – you might know it, Kettleburns’? Anyway, we have some puppy love events at the centre every now and again for those who need to destress and use it as an opportunity to find new homes for the pups. And sometimes, when we find very good girls like Flora here, we adopt them ourselves. She’s my colleague Mary’s, actually.”

Barty watches you speak with a rapture that belies him. “I never would have guessed that, that’s bloody beautiful.”

“What, I don’t look like a good contributing citizen to you?” That eyebrow of yours is back up, taunting him in a way he hopes is as humoured as it feels.

“On the contrary, you’re clearly a natural with the little princess,” he says, looking over at Ophelia who stopped to smell the flowers, “I just had no idea the nearby community would mobilise like that. Thought I oughta heard of a centre like yours.”

You cross your arms, looking almost shy. “Yeah, marketing’s not our strong suit, but most of the nearby neighbourhoods know of us at least, which is the most important. You know, local efforts and all of that?”

“Yeah,” Barty breathes out. 

He’s about to ask, but you beat him to it – which makes it all the more promising. “I mean, if you’d like, you and Ophelia would be more than welcome to drop by. Everyone’s welcome. We’re open 8 AM to 8 PM most days.”

A proper smile blooms on his face. “And you?”

“What about me?” you ask, looking almost mischievous.

He turns his body properly towards you. “Are you there most days?”

You shrug, failing at looking noncommittal, what with the wide smile on your face. “Yeah, you’re bound to catch me.”

“That we will,” Barty states, and it’s most certainly a promise. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and holds it out, so that you can write down the address for him.

When he looks at the phone you returned to him, he sees the address written down beneath the name of the community centre.

“Valkyries Welfare, huh?” He looks up at you, relishing in the scrunching up of your cheeks.

“Hey, I didn’t name it,” you defend, holding up your hands. “I’m just the help!”

“No, no, it’s a good name–” He begins to explain through a laugh.

Before he can, he catches sight of Ophelia’s last cartwheel on her way up to the two of you and acts on his dad-instincts to crouch down and catch her now slightly dizzy body. She giggles heartily as she stumbles into him, her whole chest rumbling in a way that warms Barty’s.

“That was so much fun!” she exclaims through heavy breaths. “We simply must play fetch more often.”

He kisses the side of her head while looking up at you. “Gotcha, sweetheart.”

Ophelia straightens up enough to look up at you with a toothy smile. “Here you go, Missy!” She unfurls your stress ball from her pocket, taking a second to rub some dirt off it with the bottom of her dress skirt. Then, from her other pocket – yes, she insisted on two – she procures a handful of small flowers, just barely long enough to constitute a small bouquet. “For you!”

You let out a sweet sound, dropping down to a crouching position beside them once more, mimicking your earlier meeting. Flora lays down in the grass and begins rolling back and forth happily. “Are these for me?” you ask, almost breathless.

“Of course, love,” Ophelia declares kindly, holding them out more aggressively towards you to ensure you get them.

Gently, you pry them from her fingers, pulling a thin hair tie off your wrist to wrap the stems together and pop them in the breast pocket of your jacket so that the flowers poke out. You smile at them and then at her. “Thank you so much, Ophelia, that was very thoughtful and kind of you.”

Barty rarely sees his daughter grow shy – one thing they have in common is their unabashed, sometimes boisterous portrayals of themselves – but he did notice how pink her cheeks grew when she smiled at your compliment. 

“It was so lovely to meet you both,” you say then, putting your hands on your knees. 

That makes Ophelia’s smile drop. “You’re leaving?”

Barty leans his forehead against the top of her head for a few seconds to quench the emotions she always managed to stir up in him. You pout in a way that signals you may understand his struggle.

“Yes baby, I’m sorry. Flora and I have to get back to work.”

“Darn work,” Ophelia mutters, shaking her head like she is intimately aware of the struggle of labour. It brings a loue bark of laughter from Barty, making him throw his head back and crush his little girl closer to his chest.

You giggle as well, reaching out to pinch Ophelia’s chin to brighten her mood. “You be a good girl to your dad alright, and I’ll hopefully see you soon.”

“Yes please, and I will,” Ophelia agrees readily, nodding her head. “May I hug you goodbye, Missy?”

Barty studies the emotion on your face as you open your arms to his girl and give her a kind hug. It was the kind of compassion he would never expect from a stranger. When you pull back, you meet his gaze and smile a little wider.

He hoists Ophelia back up on his shoulders and hand you your backpack.

“Oh wow, I had forgotten you were holding this,” you laugh.

That makes him feel sweller than he had any right being. He nods at you, holding onto Ophelia’s hand with one of his and waving you goodbye with the other.

“Have fun, Miss Valkyrie, we’ll see you around.”

You stand with one hand on top of Flora and the other holding your elbow, seemingly forcing your grin down into a smile. “Bye Bee-Bee and baby,” you tease in return.

As Ophelia’s chatter turns over onto other subjects and her giggles trail behind the two of them as they walk the rest of Regent’s Park, Barty finds himself itching to look back over his shoulder. The second the two of them got home, he found himself googling Valkyries Welfare.

It was just for Ophie’s sake, of course.

[mischievousmoony]

𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚣𝚎𝚛𝚘

⟢ pairing: frat boy!james potter x fem!reader ⟢ summary: a guy makes unwanted advances on you at a frat party, and the president comes to your aid ⊹ 3.0k ⟢ warnings: alcohol, unwanted advances + touching and sexist comments from another character, james gets aggressive confronting said character, american!james hehehe (not that it's explicitly stated)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

By your third visit to the crowded, beer-scented kitchen, your features have set into a deep scowl. You groan, slumping against the wall—only to immediately push yourself off, unwilling to let the exposed skin of your back come into contact with any part of the frat house you're in. Was the wall sticky, or have you started sweating from the heat of all the drunk bodies around you? Either option makes you cringe.

Tonight was supposed to be fun. Frat parties weren’t exactly your ideal night out, but your best friend had dragged you to this one with the promise of a fun time. But your night has quickly turned into a wild goose chase after she disappeared with some guy.

"Are you okay?" a voice calls from your left, barely audible over the music that's starting to make your head pound. You realize that you had started pinching the bridge of your nose. When you lower your hand and turn your head, you find a pair of kind eyes staring down at you.

He introduces himself as Todd after you explain that you've been looking for your friend for half an hour to no avail. With a sympathetic smile, he offers to help, which you gratefully accept. Anything to find your friend and put this dreadful night to an end.

"Are you, like, one of the brothers?" you ask, noticing the letters on Todd's cap as you follow him through the house, but it's a little too dark to make them out. Not to mention, you don't really remember which fraternity your friend even brought you to tonight.

"Nah," Todd shouts over his shoulder. "Not here." He doesn't provide any more information than that as he changes the subject, suggesting the two of you search the backyard.

"I thought the yard was off limits,” you shout as you speed walk to catch up with him. He’s walking so fast that you barely have time to consider why he would think your friend would be outside.

Stepping into the cold, he explains, "Apparently their neighbors complained about the noise last weekend, so they're trying to keep the party inside. But a couple of quiet people shouldn't be an issue. It's nice to be away from all the noise, eh?"

You shudder when the night air hits you, hugging your arms around yourself tightly and attempting to smooth away the goosebumps already prickling on your skin.

"Maybe if it wasn't freezing."

You look around at the back yard, finding it completely empty except for a thin layer of fallen leaves and scattered beer bottles hidden in the uncut grass. Todd is leading you straight across the lawn, farther away from the house and any source of light. You’re starting to get a weird feeling about this—and Todd—so you slow to a stop while he continues to head deeper into the darkness.

"Hey, I don't think my friend is gonna be out here. I'm gonna keep looking inside–"

"What's the rush?" Todd's demeanor changes when he notices you’re falling behind. He quickly closes the distance between the two of you again in two strides.

You release a dry laugh, realizing that you've been too trusting, and your tone turns serious. "I should really find my friend."

"You said she was with a guy, right? C'mon just let her have her fun." Todd drops his voice an octave, trying to sound seductive, but it comes across embarrassingly forced. "Maybe we can have some fun too."

When he reaches to touch the side of your face, your mood starts to change from a little let down and slightly annoyed to seriously pissed off.

"Don't," you say coldly, jerking your head away from his touch.

"Aw, c'mon," he continues to try to coax you, still somehow thinking he has a chance at convincing you. When his fingers graze your sides, you shout at him to keep his hands off, but instead, he slides them to your waist, holding you firmly.

"Let go!" you demand, planting you hands firmly on his shoulders and pushing. He chuckles at your feeble attempts, making you angrier, so you switch tactics. You wrap your hands around his wrists and pry his hands off, applying a pressure to the inside of his wrists that makes him release you with a hiss.

There's an angry voice in the distance shouting "Hey!" presumably at the two of you. You hear the steady sound of footsteps growing louder—one of the brothers probably coming to yell at you for sneaking into their backyard. You're a little too busy to care as you stomp away from Todd.

Todd doesn’t seem to notice the newcomer either. Too absorbed in the sting of your rejection, he starts getting angry too.

"Don't be such a prude," he snaps. He catches your wrist and pulls you back to him with a swift tug, spinning you around to face him. You draw your free arm back, using the extra momentum from the spin to your advantage as you punch him squarely in the jaw.

The punch throws him off balance, sending him stumbling back. His foot catches on an empty beer bottle, twisting his ankle as he loses his footing and crashes onto the grass with a heavy thud.

You stand above him, a little stunned at your actions. Todd is whining pathetically about the pain from the punch to his face, and the pain from the fall to his ass.

Someone jogs up beside you, and you can feel their gaze darting back and forth between you and Todd.

"Nice punch," he says, a little out of breath.

"Thanks," you reply flatly, only now starting to process that you—with the help of a beer bottle—sent this man tumbling to the ground.

"Alright," the mystery man says like he's about to get to work. He steps into your line of sight, looming over Todd for a moment.

He has a mop of dark curls spilling out from under a red baseball cap sitting backwards on his head. The cap matches his letterman-style jacket, which clings to his broad frame, drawing attention to his muscular body. Under different circumstances, this is a view you’d appreciate.

He bends down and grabs Todd by the collar of his shirt, roughly pulling him to his feet. Even with both of them standing, he still towers over him.

"Hey, man. What's up?" he asks Todd, his casual words contrasting with his abrasive tone.

"That slut just punched me!" Todd shrieks.

You roll your eyes. How pathetic.

He tightens his grip on Todd's shirt collar, using it to shake him roughly. "Watch your fucking mouth or I'll be the next," he threatens, and Todd goes quiet.

Your eyes widen at his sudden sharpness. Almost involuntary, you shift your position, angling yourself to get a clear look at the boy’s face. Black rimmed glasses sit lazily on the bridge of his nose, under his furrowed brow as he glares daggers at Todd. His eyes are big and brown, almost seeming out of place against the hard scowl carved into his features.

"Here's what's gonna happen," he continues. "First, you’re blacklisted. You’re never stepping foot in my house again. And what's this?"

He plucks Todd's hat off his head, inspecting the letters with a scoff before tossing it to the ground. "Of course. I'm sure nationals will be happy to hear about how you've conducted yourself tonight."

Todd's eye twitches at the threat. "Let's not pretend I was doing anything she didn’t want. Look at the way she’s dressed—flaunting herself, just begging for attention."

"What did you just say?" he seethes.

"James, c'mon," Todd says, revealing the name of the taller boy. He speaks with a nonchalance that makes James' nostrils flare, angered by his dismissiveness of the situation.

You begin to wonder how they know each other when James sets him straight.

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to? My friends call me James, you don't get to call me shit. The fuck do you think this is, man? I catch you in my backyard putting your hands on a girl who clearly doesn't want anything to do with you and you think you can talk to me like we're friends? I don't even know who the hell you are."

Your eyes must be bulging out of your head by now. It feels like you’ve been dropped into a scene from a movie—an exposé on the dark side of greek life, or maybe the mafia. Not knowing much about either, it’s hard to say, but the backward hats and pounding music from the house quickly remind you of where you are.

James lowers his voice, his tone dipping into something almost menacing. "But I’ll find out from your brothers, and when I do, you’re finished here. Done. Now come on."

Todd flinches as one of James' hands clasps over the back of his neck with a sharp smack. There were some other guys you hadn't noticed before back near the house, to whom James hands Todd over.

Once James notices that you're still standing in the middle of the yard, he jogs back over. On his way, he takes off his hat, running his fingers through his hair to loosen his curls.

"Hey," he says in a soft voice, vastly different from the one he used on Todd. "Are you okay?"

The change in his demeanor catches you off guard. You exhale while you collect your thoughts, a steamy white cloud filling the space as your warm breath meets cool air.

"That was intense," you say. You don’t mean to dodge his question, but he did just switch from mafia boss levels of threatening to sunshine and rainbows.

James breathes out a laugh. "Sorry about that. Gotta be a hardass with some of these dicks, especially ones like that. Part of the job."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, wondering what job he's talking about.

James reads your expression, and stands up a little straighter as he introduces himself. "President James, at your service." With an exaggerated wink, he tugs at the edge of his jacket, pulling it taut to show off the letters sewn over his chest.

You nod in understanding. "Well, thank you for stepping in, Mr. President," you say, a slight tease coloring your tone.

A smile like sunshine overtakes his lips. "No need to thank me, really. Anyway, you handled it pretty well before I got here. That was some punch—is your hand alright?"

You had forgotten about that. Splaying your fingers out in front of you, you inspect your knuckles. "Mhm. Fine. I don't think I can feel my limbs anyway." You wrap your arms back around yourself, the cold become almost unbearable in your tank top.

"Shit, yeah, it's cold out here, isn't it?" James holds his hat between his teeth, freeing his hands as he strips off his jacket. Your eyes linger on his toned arms for a moment too long, and suddenly his hat has made its way back onto his head and he's holding his jacket out for you.

"May I?" he asks.

As much as you want to say no, you truly are freezing, so you let yourself be draped in his warmth and the scent of his cologne. The fabric has an unexpected weight to it, almost offering a comfort similar to an embrace.

James rubs his hands up and down over newly blanketed arms to encourage some warmth into them. James studies your face with softened eyes, his tone taking on a more serious note.

"Hey, listen... I'm really sorry that happened to you. Everything he said, and did–"

"It's alright," you interrupt.

"It's not. That shouldn't be happening. Not at my house—not anywhere. I'm really sorry you had to deal with that creep. And if you wanted to take it to the school, I'd be more than willing to–"

"No, no. That's more trouble than he's worth."

James nods, respecting your decision. "For what it's worth, I'm gonna make sure he won't be allowed in any of the parties around here anymore. I doubt I can get him completely blackballed, but I'll do what I can."

You offer James a small smile in response. You're glad to hear that, really, but now that Todd's gone and that's all over, your main concern is finding your friend and getting the hell out of here.

"Why don't you let me give you a ride home?" he offers, almost like he can read your mind. His kind, brown eyes almost make you want to say yes. But after the night you've had, you owe it to yourself to be a little less trusting.

"I don't know." You bite the inside of your cheek while you decide if you should disclose your current dilemma. James does seem eager to help. Deciding to tell him, you say, "I was looking for my friend."

James is quick to offer his assistance. "Who's your friend? Maybe I can help."

You tell him your friends name and recount what she was doing when you saw her last. "She ran off with this guy. Long black hair, leather jacket, I think I heard his name but it was something... unique."

James sucks in a breath through his teeth. "Sounds like Sirius."

"Sirius, yes! That was his name." You're momentarily excited, thinking that James could actually help, but the look on his face squashes the feeling promptly.

"Yeah, uh," James scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, "Sirius left with a girl like an hour ago. About yay high," he holds his hand out to your friend's height. "Tan. Brown hair."

You sigh. Some best friend you have. Here you are, searching for her endlessly, and she's ditched you at the party she brought you to.

"She was your ride, I’m guessing?" The corner of James' lip quirks up in a sorry half-smile as you nod. "It really is no trouble for me to drive you home."

You tap your foot on the ground anxiously. You're really wanting to just accept his offer. He seems nice enough, but there's still a little voice in the back of your mind telling you to be careful.

"I just... I don't really know you."

"Understandable," James starts. "But... you kinda do. I'm pretty sure we have chem together."

"I don't think so." You think you’d remember a muscly, likely rambunctious, frat boy in your boring chem class.

"Okay, I was playing it cool,” James’ teeth graze his lower lip in a bashful manner. “I know we have Chem together—with Professor Brown? Tuesdays and Thursdays. You sit in the front row. Y/N, right?" James looks a little sheepish as he recalls your name.

You nod slowly, really looking at James for the first time, trying to place him. Then it hits you—you do remember him. He sits a few seats down from you in chem, always rigorously taking notes and asking questions you wouldn’t have thought of (but are glad to have the answers to). Seeing him like this, though, is such a contrast to the smart guy from class that you didn’t even recognize him at first.

You feel a heat creep up the back of your neck. You’ve only ever spared him a few glances, but you’ve always thought the smart guy from chem was pretty cute.

"Oh. Oh, right. I–I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. You're James Potter." You try the name on your lips, realizing the name didn't click because you had only ever heard your professor call him by his last name.

"That's me," he grins. "And don't worry about it."

You give him a nod, a bit awkwardly. He seems like a good guy, but you’re still not sure if you want to get in his car. "Well, James, I should probably just call an Uber or something anyway. I don't know if you've been drinking or anything so..."

"Oh!" James holds up a finger, stuffing his other hand into his pocket and pulling out a black rectangle. You mistake it for one of those big, clunky box vapes and almost want to roll your eyes. But then, James surprises you by blowing into it instead of breathing in.

The device beeps, and he shows you the little digital screen, previously hidden behind his hand, that reads "0.00" over a glowing green background.

"Haven't had a drop," he confirms. "I haven't smoked or anything else, either. Not my thing."

"Why do you own a breathalyzer?" you ask, a little dumbfounded.

"So I can breathalyze people," he shrugs, fiddling with the device—tossing it a few inches up in the air and catching it.

You raise your eyebrows at him, not satisfied with his non-answer.

“Sorry,” James chuckles at himself. "Uh, I have a lot of people leaving my parties trying to tell me they're sober enough to drive. I got loads of these ‘cause they can't argue with the numbers... as much as they might try to."

"Where did you even get that?" you ask. You can't imagine there's a very big market for personal breathalyzers.

"You can get almost anything with Prime delivery!" he says it like he's proud as he tucks it back into his pocket. "Hey, you want one? I've got a drawer full back in the house." He points with his thumb over his shoulder.

You laugh, shaking your head at his offer. James laughs along with you, his lips curling into a boyish grin.

Well, if you’re going to put your trust in anyone else tonight it, it might as well be the smart boy from chem who takes safety seriously enough to own multiple breathalyzers.

You start walking towards the house. When you don’t hear a set of footsteps following behind, you call over your shoulder, "Come on."

James catches up quickly, happy to be invited to join you. "Where are we going?"

"To your car so you can give me a ride home."

From the corner of your eye, you watch his face break out into a wide grin. And from there on out, there's an extra pep in his step as he leads you to his car.

When you're safe and sound, back in the comfort of your own room, you flop onto your bed with a dreamy look on your face. You hug the jacket closer to your body, thankful for the excuse to talk to him in chem on Tuesday. Little did you know, he let you keep the jacket so that you'd have one.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[ticifics]

𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐚

James Potter x f!reader

Summary: “Hey…” he murmurs, his voice laced with amusement. “Did you just wink at me?” Your face heats up instantly. “What? No! I just—” James moves closer, and before you can escape, his hands are already around you—warm, firm, secure. And then, he attacks. Kisses. A relentless succession of them.

Warnings: muggle au, est. relationship, fluffy, no use of y/n, james doing a kiss attack, shy!reader

The rain drums softly against the window, streaming down the glass in thin rivulets, distorting the view outside. The apartment is warm and lit by a discreet lamp, casting soft shadows over the furniture. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, your feet swinging in the air, your hands wrapped around your teacup, soaking in the warmth it offers. There’s something comforting about this silence, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional rustle of the newspaper forgotten on the table.

And then, he speaks.

“Did you know that if you close both eyes, you can’t see anything?”

You blink, lifting your gaze from the tea and meeting his, blue and full of mischief behind the lenses of his glasses. James is leaning against the doorframe, a half-smile tugging at his lips, his black hair in perfect chaos over his forehead. He looks absolutely pleased with himself, as if he’s having fun at the expense of a secret you haven’t discovered yet.

“Of course,” you reply, arching an eyebrow. “Everyone knows that.”

“Ah, but if you close just one...” He leans slightly forward, “You can still see everything.”

The sentence hangs between you, and without thinking too much, you close one eye, testing the logic.

In the next second, you realize the mistake.

James lets out a low chuckle, and the glint in his eyes intensifies in a dangerous way. He pushes off the doorframe and advances slowly, his steps feline, his posture too relaxed to be innocent.

“Hey...” he murmurs, his voice laced with amusement. “Did you just wink at me?”

Your face heats up instantly.

“What? No! I just—”

But there’s no room for explanations.

James moves closer, and before you can escape, his hands are already around you—warm, firm, secure. One arm wraps around your waist, pulling you forward until your knees bump against the sides of his hips. The other slides up to your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your heated skin.

You smell him, that mix of woody soap and something purely James. And then, he attacks.

Kisses. A relentless succession of them.

First, one on the high point of your cheek. Then, another near the corner of your mouth, then another and another, until he traces an entire path across your flushed skin. You let out a weak protest, a breathless laugh escaping before you can contain it.

“Jamie—”

“No, no,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice slightly muffled. “This won’t go unnoticed.”

“I wasn’t flirting!”

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression absolutely delighted.

“Ah, so only I can flirt?”

You open your mouth, but he’s already smiling that impossible smile, the one that makes your heart stumble.

“Good to know,” he says, and then he’s back, nipping lightly at your flushed cheek before pressing a longer kiss there. You feel his lips curve against your skin.

Your chest tightens in a dizzying way, in a way you can’t quite describe.

It’s always like this.

James, whole, intense. He loves as if he doesn’t know how to love any other way. With everything he has, with everything he is.

You, on the other hand, feel small in the face of it. Not in a bad way. But because James lights up everything around him, and you’re not quite sure how you deserved so much.

The shyness still warms your face, but you don’t resist when he starts covering your face with kisses again, laughing between each one. Your hands slide into his black hair, your fingers digging in as he finally gives you a break, resting his forehead against yours.

He’s smiling against your skin, that smile you feel more than see, and his chest rises and falls in a rhythm that matches yours.

James sighs, dragging his nose lazily across your face before murmuring against your cheek, “Did you know I’m all yours?”

Your heart stumbles.

He doesn’t say it with the intention of being dramatic. James never says anything halfway, never loves halfway. The sentence slips from his lips with so much truth, so much certainty, that you feel your chest tighten. You feel something blooming inside you, something that’s always been there but now pulses with more strength.

Maybe it’s the fact that he always takes the initiative, always breaks down your barriers with that tireless, charming way of his.

And maybe, just maybe, you want to surprise him this time.

The idea takes shape before you can talk yourself out of it.

With a hesitant but determined movement, you lean in and press your lips to his cheek.

He freezes for a second, his blue eyes wide behind his glasses, his mouth slightly open as if he’s trying to formulate a sentence that never comes.

You almost pull back, almost shrink away from the sudden impulse, but then you see his expression. It’s rare to see him like this, speechless, without a ready response on the tip of his tongue.

Your chest warms.

So, before your courage disappears, you kiss him again.

With a touch of boldness—the most you can muster—you scatter a trail of kisses across his face, following the same path he traced on yours. The curve of his jaw, his chin, the spot just below his ear. Your shyness makes your skin burn, but something about seeing James so visibly affected encourages you.

And when you return to his cheek, nipping lightly, he lets out a low sound, a mix of a laugh and a sigh.

“You...” he stammers, looking absolutely amazed. “Did you just bite me?”

You nod, a little uncertain, and James... well, James melts.

Literally.

His body sags against yours, his arms tightening around your waist, and he hides his face in your neck, laughing as if you’ve just completely destroyed him.

“Ah, that’s not fair,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. “I wasn’t prepared.”

You feel his smile there, his lips pressed against your neck, and before you know it, you’re smiling too.

“Now you know how I feel,” you whisper, and James lets out a dramatic groan, as if he’s been struck in the heart.

“No,” he says, lifting his face again. His hands slide back to your face, his eyes shining as if he’s just discovered something new and fascinating. “That was worse. You have no idea what you just did to me.”

“Jamie—”

Suddenly, and before you can react, he grabs your cheeks firmly. The gentle pressure pushes them together until your lips form a forced pout.

James smiles. Beautiful, mischievous, absolutely enchanted.

“Ah, what a precious thing,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with an almost exaggerated fondness. He studies your face for a second, his eyes shining, before lowering his head and lightly biting your lower lip trapped between your pinched cheeks.

You squirm in his hands, trying to escape the trap, but he holds your face a little longer before finally releasing your cheeks, his thumbs gently brushing over your warm skin as he watches every detail.

James is always watching.

All the time.

And he never gets tired.

His hands stay there, holding your face with an almost exaggerated care, as if he wants to memorize the feeling. He rests his forehead against yours, and the touch is lazy, comfortable.

“I’m officially a lost man,” he says, so close that it’s impossible to tell where his breath ends and yours begins. “You could ask me for anything right now, and I’d do it without hesitation. My heart? Take it. My dignity? Gone. My soul? Well, I think it’s been yours for a long time.”

You laugh, and James looks absolutely delighted by the sound.

He watches you, and there’s something in his eyes that makes your breath falter.

“Could you kiss me again?” he asks, and his voice is low, almost hesitant.

Your face burns, but you nod, and when your lips meet his skin again, James closes his eyes and lets out a satisfied sigh.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Good boy, Pads {Mini-Siris}

Disclaimer: This is a Poly!Marauders x Muggle!Reader fic concept, but it is mostly focused on Padfoot and the reader. {Divider Credit}

Summary: Long hours, late nights, and dark alleyways. Good thing you have a guardian angel looking out for you. {Aka: Padfoot protects a muggle reader on her walk home}

Main story:

🐾1🐾

🐾2🐾

🐾3...🐾

Requested:

TBD

I will be taking requests with mini ideas that do or don't pertain to the main story. If I really like a request I might just make it into a main story beat, if you don't specify otherwise <3

All Taglist: @rory-cakes @sodavrr @ailoda @lalalandincraz @maraudersgirlie @maraudersgirlsposts @2dloveshp @moonjellyfishie @raevyng @hashbrownsoncrack @rentaldarling @goosy-goose @pennedmusings @iamawkwardandshy

Main Story Taglist: @lily-mylove @plk-18 @canthavetoomuchchaos @daydreamandforget @emerald-jade1 @lovelyygirl8 @witchybabel @c0ldstvff @chaoticwixtheybe @apollonshootafar

Just comment to be added!

[dreamcubed]

i hate it here | theodore nott x reader

song; i hate it here [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x fem!muggle-born!ravenclaw!reader genre; s2l, fluff, angst, hurt comfort word count; 5k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, reference to deaths, referenced grief, discrimination (muggle-borns), implied anxiety, implied depression summary; a chance encounter caused your life to intertwine with theo nott’s, of whom provided a comfort and solace you had sorely needed

this is an old draft i made in 2020, put through some serious editing

also, happy holidays and happy new year!!!

masterlist

"i'll save all my romanticism for my inner life."

———————————————

Flames flickered dangerously on the wall candles as the determined Slytherin sixth year charged down the corridor, eyes glaring at anyone who dared get in his way. His destination was unknown, but no one really gave it any thought as they stumbled to get out of his path. Theodore Nott wasn't one to mess with, nor were his group of friends.

"Nott," a voice muttered quietly from behind, causing Theo to halt in his tracks. Spinning on his feet, he caught sight of you and your hesitant gaze.

"What?" he snapped.

"You- uh- you dropped this..." you sighed, opening your hand to reveal a golden locket sat on your palm.

To your surprise, he took it quite gently from you and offered a quiet, "Thanks," before turning on his heel and continuing to storm down the corridor.

You exhaled deeply at your awkwardness as you began making your journey to the Great Hall for lunch. You weren't much in the mood to talk, but still joined your small group of friends at the Ravenclaw table. Greeting them with no more than a smile, you began dishing food on to your plate.

Meanwhile, Theo had arrived to the lunch hall via a different route, and earlier at that too. His thought process had been that of wondering who you were and why you knew his name. There was a sense of gratitude towards you, as that locket had been a gift from his late mother; thus it was a priceless artefact to him. He wouldn't know how to cope if he lost it— her absence was difficult enough as it was.

He sat down on the Slytherin table, surprised to see his friends weren't there yet; they were normally just as eager to eat as him.

He didn't really notice your presence in the room, even though he was still thinking about you. Alas, the hall was rather large, and rather full of students. Regardless, his thoughts were interrupted when Lorenzo Berkshire showed up, one of his closest friends. "Hey, Enzo," he looked up from his plate of food.

"Hi," he sat down opposite, "Where are the rest? I thought I was late enough as it was. L/N and I were just exchanging notes for my ancient runes test. And... then I went to the toilet."

"L/N?" a look of confusion rested upon Theo's features.

"Yeah, Y/N L/N, she's in your potions and DADA, I believe. She's helping me on the test that's coming up soon. Don't you know her?" Lorenzo quirked an eyebrow.

Your name didn't ring a bell at all.

"She's over there," Lorenzo pointed to the Ravenclaw table, "She is a mud— muggle-born, but she's really smart and I'll get detention if I fail this test."

Theo flicked his gaze to where you were sat. He observed your lack of participation in the conversation your friends were having— two Ravenclaw girls who he did recognise.

"Wait, that's L/N?" he turned to Lorenzo in surprise, seeing that Mattheo had now arrived wordlessly, already stuffing his face with food.

"So you do know her?" Lorenzo replied.

"Yeah- uh- I met her earlier, actually," Theo continued to watch you eating your meal while visibly spaced out.

"Mate, if you keep staring at L/N like that she's gonna get uncomfortable," Blaise Zabini announced his arrival, sitting by Theo.

"You know her too?" Theo spun his head to face Blaise, eyes slightly widened.

Blaise quirked an eyebrow, "Yeah? She's, like, one of the smartest girls in our year..."

"Why am I only hearing of her today?" he said, somewhat aggravated, as if he had been left out of an inside joke everyone else was in on.

Blaise and Lorenzo chuckled, before the latter said, "It's because she's so quiet. Trust me, it took me ages to get her reasonably confident around me."

"Why?"

"What d'you mean, why? Some people are just like that, Theo," Blaise shrugged.

Something told Theo that you weren't quiet for no reason.

***

You headed to your potions class at around 11am the next day: it was double potions, and your first lesson, which you were not looking forward to. You had it with a lot of Slytherins, and some of them were a bit judgmental of you being a muggle-born. That didn't necessarily bother you, it was just tedious to deal with constantly.

Much to your shock, you found Theodore Nott sat on your table and the old Hufflepuff boy you used to sit next to over in Nott's old seat. Awkwardly sitting yourself down in your own seat, you pulled out some of your books and ingredients and began working through the starter on the blackboard. All without saying a word to Nott.

You didn't realise Nott had been watching your every move from beside you.

"L/N," he whispered as Professor Slughorn called the attention of the class. You lifted your eyes from the book to him, and he could see the flash of fear in your eyes. Most likely because his group of friends were notorious for picking on muggle-borns.

"Yes?" you said as confidently as you could, in a hushed tone.

"Why have I never seen you around before?"

A frown graced your face as you eyed him incredulously, "What do you mean? We've had classes together for years."

"But I've never noticed you."

With a scoff, you muttered, "Thanks."

"I mean, I don't understand how I haven't noticed you."

You shrugged.

Sensing he needed to change the subject, Theo said, "Thanks again for finding my locket. It's priceless to me, I don't know what I'd do without it."

"It's fine," you dismissed, "Why's it so important, anyway?"

"My mother gave it to me before she died."

Pursing your lips ever so slightly, you murmured, "My condolences."

He rolled his eyes, "Empty words I've heard a thousand times."

Before you could reply, Slughorn scolded the both of you for talking.

And you didn't get another chance to talk until the lesson came to an end; you packed up all of your belongings and muttered a polite, "Bye, Nott," before hurriedly walking towards the door.

"L/N! Wait!" he called after you, jogging to catch up, "Please drop the Nott. Just call me Theo."

He walked with you to the Great Hall, engaging in a polite conversation about the material covered in the lesson.

Eventually, you found the courage to say, "N- Theo, my words weren't empty earlier."

Theo quirked an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

With a slight shrug, you pointed to the Ravenclaw table, "My- uh- friends are over there, Theo. D'you mind if I go?"

Frowning, Theo asked, "Why would I mind?"

"Uh- I don't know... I just- uh..." you purposely avoided his eyes, not wanting to say that you were scared to offend him, when he probably already saw you as lesser, being a muggle-born.

"Look, Y/N, you don't need to be so nervous around me. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Really?" you tilted your head.

"I swear. I don't care that you're muggle-born." Although his father would.

Nodding, you mumbled, "Goodbye," and joined your group of friends, of whom had been watching the previous encounter. Theo then headed over to the Slytherin table where his friends were also waiting.

***

A few days later, the Slytherin boys were once again gathered in the Great Hall, this time for breakfast. Lorenzo downed the rest of his coffee, and rose to his feet. "Gotta go."

"Where're you going?" Mattheo asked.

Climbing over the bench, he replied, "Library. L/N's helping me study for the ancient runes test, remember?"

"Can I come?" Theo quickly questioned, interested upon hearing your name mentioned.

Lorenzo gave him an odd look but said yes nonetheless; Theo instantly stood from his seat and tailed his friend on the journey.

Upon reaching the library, the pair found you already sitting at a little oakwood table with a dusty maroon novel in hand and scrolls of parchment laid before you. "Since when are you so stressed about tests?" Theo whispered.

"I told you, I'll get detention if I fail," Lorenzo shrugged, "What about you? Why a sudden interest in L/N?"

"I don't have a sudden interest in her," he blatantly lied.

Lorenzo gave him a look, "Sure, mate."

Luckily for Theo, they had reached the table where you were, with a little green sofa positioned by it. Theo smiled at you, muttering a quick, "Hi."

"Hi..." your face warmed at the sight of him.

As Theo set himself down on the sofa, Lorenzo said his hello to you - curious as to why you were even shyer around Theo - and sat down by you so he could pull out his books. He silently speculated as to what was going on between the two of you.

You began going over ancient runes, explaining in as much detail as you could the most recent topic. Still, you found yourself constantly glancing over at Theo, who had started reading a book, which didn't go unnoticed by Lorenzo. He didn't say anything, however, because if he did studying would be futile due to your inevitable embarrassment.

"Why did Theo come?" you questioned awkwardly when the aforementioned had left briefly to use the toilet, "He never has before..."

Shrugging, Lorenzo replied, "I think he wanted to see you."

"Me?" your eyes widened, "Why would he want to see me?"

You didn't get an answer; Lorenzo didn't give you one.

***

If you weren't so oblivious the question would have probably answered itself over the next few days. Theo had begun to go with you everywhere, and had moved to sit next to you in both DADA and potions officially. He sometimes napped during theory lessons in potions, but you didn't mind enchanting a quill to copy what you were writing so he would still have notes. Not that he had asked you to, you just felt weirdly obliged.

Whenever you would read in the library, he would be right next to you on the sofa, also reading. Whenever you were sat alone in the Great Hall, he would join and eat with you. Whenever you were taking a nice stroll around the grassy slopes of the Hogwarts grounds, he would walk by you, maintaining a comfortable silence.

Annoying wasn't the word you would use for him; in fact, you had never felt so content with someone's constant presence. The rest of your friends you needed breaks from, as they drained your social energy despite how much you loved them. Theo, however, was more of a calm and quiet person: he seemed to be quite happy not speaking at all around you. You appreciated the fact you could dwell together without doing anything.

***

The following Saturday, Theo was pissed. Determinedly walking down the corridor with a ferocious glare in his eyes, everybody was quick to jump out of his way, knowing the extent his wrath could sometimes take. Someone, namely a dumb third year, had accidentally set off an exploding spell on him. While Theo had fixed himself up, the third year had ran off without apologising. Now, Theo was hunting him down to seek revenge.

Everybody in the school feared him and the other Slytherin boys, except for a few of the first years who were yet to see their rage. When they were angry, no one dared go near them— it was kind of like an unspoken rule. You, unfortunately, had not yet realised that Theo was angered and ran up to him from behind, since you had been looking for him. You had found it strange that he wasn't yet by your side.

"Hey, Theo," you levelled your pace with his, wondering why he was moving so fast. A couple students loitering in the corridor exchanged glances, knowing you were about to get screamed at.

Except, you didn't. Theo's features went soft as he turned his head to you and smiled gently. Shock was evident on the observing students' faces, having never seen such a switch in emotion on any of the Slytherin boys before.

"Hey, Y/N," Theo spoke, "D'you have any good hexes to use on a stupid third year who accidentally hit you with a spell but didn't apologise?"

"Well, um, you're kinda putting me on the spot here..." you tapped her chin thoughtfully, "If you wanna go with a classic you could use the bat bogey hex."

Scrunching up his nose, he replied, "I kinda want something more original."

"Uh... why don't you make them turn purple?" you shrugged, "That's not done often."

"Why purple?"

"I like purple."

Theo chuckled, "Okay, then. We've just got to find him, now."

"Well, think logically. He'll probably go where there's lots of people so he can either blend in or have some hope of protection," you said, "And where will there be lots of people on this fine Saturday morning?"

"The Great Hall," he realised, grabbing your hand without thinking so he could start sprinting there.

You gasped at first, not expecting to be tugged along so roughly. But you weren't unfit, and quickly pulled your legs to match his pace.

"Alright," he panted, coming to a halt after running through the large double doors, "He's over there, on the Gryffindor table."

"Why... did... we... have... to... run?" you forced out between breaths.

Squeezing your hand unintentionally, he watched with amused eyes at your breathless state, before replying, "Couldn't risk him getting away again."

"Enchant his- uh- drink," now hyperaware of your still joined hands, you felt shy.

"What, so I don't get caught?"

"Uh, yeah..."

He tugged on your hand, guiding you down the side of the red table with his wand hidden discreetly in his free palm. Uttering the charm, he pointed his wand at the golden goblet in front of the boy.

"Better hope it works," he muttered, looking around to see all his friends together on the Slytherin table, as usual. You found yourself being dragged over to them without a say in the matter.

Theo only remembered to let go of your hand when you reached his friends— your expression likely gave away your embarrassment, but you still sat down next to him. Lorenzo, who was the other side of Theo, whispered in his ear, "You made it official, then?"

Shaking his head and taking a bite of toast, Theo answered, "What d'you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Theo," he sighed, "You both have such blatant feelings for each other."

The conversation swiftly switched as Mattheo began discussing the upcoming quidditch game. You didn't share an interest in the sport, but Theo did, so you were able to remain silent, much to your relief.

***

Blue puffy coat drowning you in warmth, and black leather gloves wrapping your shivery pale hands— woolly white bobble hat on head, and tickles of snow balanced on cheekbones— matte black snow boots on feet, and thick jeans on legs: you were well kitted for the day's snowy weather out in Hogsmeade, all of your friends were there too. You were now off the carriages and strolling down the icy street, gazing at the familiar sweets, book and joke shops. Cho, a friend of yours, was awkwardly making conversation with Blaise. He returned the level of awkwardness.

Mattheo and Lorenzo - Theo's closest friends - suddenly pulled your arms with mischievous looks on their faces. "Come to Zonko's with us!" Mattheo smirked.

It was obviously not a question.

Giving Theo a pleading look, you pulled a strained expression when all he gave you was a smirk similar to Mattheo's. "We'll be in the Three Broomsticks," your friend, Jane, said, "See the rest of you there."

You sighed, accepting your defeat and going to Zonko's— you ended up spending most of your time hidden in the corner of the shop while keeping an eye on the devious Slytherins. The crowd in the shop wasn't relaxing. At all. Right now, the only place you wanted to be was in the Three Broomsticks holding a refreshing cup of golden butterbeer with Theo by your—

Theo? Since when had he been the first person you wanted to be with? The first person you thought of when you went to your happy place? Warmth spread to your cheekbones and lit them aflame, the only thoughts in your head being Theo's cheeky smirk and fluffy brown hair. It took you awhile to realise Lorenzo had now grabbed your arm and was pulling you over to the pub with Mattheo, but you soon snapped out of your imagination and allowed yourself to enter through the door independently.

The second you were in there you made eye contact with very same boy you had been thinking about, causing you to grow flustered. Keeping your head down, you walked over to the table and smiled awkwardly at everyone. There suddenly seemed to be an overwhelming feeling that everyone could read exactly what you were thinking and immediately knew what was up.

Blaise budged along the bench a bit, allowing you to squeeze in next to Theo. All that you could notice now was the warmth radiating from the body - Theo's - that was squashed against you in the confined of space on the benches and chairs.

"Y/N? You good?" he whispered, concerned over your sudden shyness in demeanour.

"Uh- yeah! Fine... just fine," making the mistake of glancing at him again, your thoughts stammered and stuttered.

A million thoughts swarmed through Theo's head, having no idea what was happening. He decided to ignore it for now, however, and pushed over a glass of golden butterbeer to you.

Relief washed over you as you took a sip of the frothy beverage and allowed the warmth to fill up your insides. Theo's presence was beginning to feel comforting again, now your spout of realising your feelings was over. Unintentionally, you shifted millimetres closer to him causing your thighs to be pressed together. Theo was now conversing with Lorenzo, but he noticed your minuscule movement next to him.

Continuing with the conversation, he shifted the hand he had resting on his lap to hook it around your thigh: an action that had your eyes widening like saucers. Still, you couldn't help but smile slightly, before taking another sip of beer to cover your face.

***

One bright Saturday morning, you were in the library with Lorenzo, as he needed help with his studies. Only, this time it was Jane who was helping him, as you did not take herbology, and so could provide no assistance to him in that area. Regardless, you had come along, despite the fact you were in a great deal of pain. You were laying on the sofa by Jane and Lorenzo's table, curled up into a ball as you cursed your uterus for daring to grieve you in such a manner.

Theo, however, was in the Great Hall eating breakfast. The lack of your presence confused him, since you were usually there, so naturally he asked your friends where you were.

"Oh... she's in the library with Jane and Berkshire," Cho replied nonchalantly, "I don't know why she went— she has really bad cramps, and it's Jane that's tutoring Berkshire right now anyway."

"Cramps?" he frowned.

Cho sighed, "She's on her period, Nott."

Coughing awkwardly, he hummed in acknowledgment and continued eating, praying that the subject would be changed.

"Well? Are you just gonna sit there?" Cho questioned threateningly.

"What?" he said with confusion lacing his tone.

Mattheo laughed from across the table, "You're practically her boyfriend, aren't you gonna go to her? Period care is a classic boyfriend duty."

"What do you know about boyfriend duties?" Theo scoffed at his friend, but he knew that he was right, even though he wasn't your boyfriend. Nonetheless, he rose from his seat after Cho gave him a glare.

Once he had poured a cup of hot chocolate from the breakfast spread, he began his journey to the library. Upon entering the massive room full of oakwood desks, homely sofas and bookcase after bookcase, he spotted you lying on a settee by Jane and Lorenzo with your eyes tightly shut. In your foetal position, you seemed oblivious to the heated discussion going on between the pair.

Crossing the room while scanning his surroundings, he noticed the various students sat chatting with friends or lazily doing homework: all of them in casual clothes. The thought of that made him take note of your attire: a loose-fitting Ravenclaw shirt much like the ones quidditch players wore, simple black pyjama bottoms and a pair of green and blue striped socks. Now that he had arrived, he could make out the battered black Converse sprawled at the foot of the maroon settee you were on.

Shooting a quick hello to Lorenzo and Jane, who were too preoccupied to notice, Theo leaned over you, and whispered, "Hey. I brought you some hot chocolate."

You peeled open your eyelids and rubbed them, wincing suddenly before clutching your abdomen. "Thanks..." you mumbled softly.

"Chang told me it was your time of the month," he said in a low tone so nobody else could hear, sitting down by you properly and handing over the mug.

"Did she?" tiredly pushing yourself up into a more upright position, you felt the beginning of your heart rate speed up now that you could clearly see Theo.

He smiled gently, taking in your cute mildly flustered appearance. Such an expression on your face made him want to hold you— desperately.

Taking a deep but quiet breath, he took the mug from your hands and placed it on the table, making you scowl. The scowl disappeared, however, when he scooped his arm underneath you, taking you much by surprise, and lifted you up slightly so he could budge himself to the end of the sofa and allow you to now be blatantly flustered on his lap. "How're you holdin' up?" he asked as he leaned the both of you forward to pick up the mug again.

"O-Okay, I gue-" you cut yourself off by clutching your abdomen and scrunching your face.

"Maybe not so okay," he chuckled, pushing your arms away from your stomach, and slipping his free hand under your royal blue shirt before applying some pressure.

Sighing in relief, you said, "You're so warm," before proceeding to curl up once more. You took the hot chocolate from his other hand, granting yourself a big gulp.

"'S'good chocolate."

"Fresh from the breakfast table," he chuckled, the action vibrating against your back.

You smiled, something that he couldn't see. "Thank you."

"It's nothing."

At that comment, you disagreed, as you knew that Theo Nott was not the type of man to do such nice things for people. Still, you continued to drink the hot chocolate, looking towards Jane and Lorenzo— who were still arguing about a herbology topic.

"What could they possibly be arguing about?" Theo sighed.

You shrugged slightly, "I think she proofread his essay and said it looked like a toddler had written it."

"I'm guessing you're a kinder tutor?"

You laughed, "I would say so. Unluckily for Lorenzo, I don't take herbology."

Then, Cho arrived, with Mattheo and Blaise as well— how she had persuaded the former to come to the library was nothing short of impressive.

"Sorry, did we interrupt a double date?" Mattheo smiled devilishly, sitting down in an armchair.

Oh, that would explain it.

You and Theo didn't react to his comment: you were so used to being teased at this point that it was just another day in the life.

As for Jane and Lorenzo— it was a completely different story. Their faces flushed as they became defensive, spouting off all sorts of insults about the other in relation to their prior argument.

"We're all heading down to the lake for a bit, d'you guys wanna come?" Blaise interjected.

Looking to you, Theo could easily tell you didn't want to by your expression, so declined on behalf of both of you. Meanwhile, Lorenzo and Jane agreed, likely realising the tutoring was going nowhere, and rose from their seats.

***

Quidditch matches were the pride and joy of the school, and also something even you took seriously, despite not caring much for the sport. You had never missed a Ravenclaw match in your time, and never intended to either. That day's match was Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw, so you were definitely going to be in the stands watching.

With it being a few weeks away from Christmas (and nearly the end of the first term), being comfortably wrapped up was a necessity: a winter coat, a scarf, a hat, and gloves. Theo was about to head into the changing rooms for the match, but ran over to you first. Even just looking at him made your previously unwavering loyalty to Ravenclaw's team falter.

"Two galleons we'll win," Theo smirked down at you.

"Bet accepted," you held out your gloved hand, to which he shook, "Because I know Ravenclaw'll win."

You then made your way up to the stands, as Theo went to change and warm up. It wasn't long before the theatrics commenced.

"Alright, it seems the teams are ready to start, so on Madam Hooch's whistle..." the commentator, Lee Jordan's successor, spoke, followed by a sharp whistle, "And the teams are in the air..."

The boy commentating continued to describe what the green and blue players darting around in the cold and crisp air were doing regarding the four balls of quidditch. Watching intently, you observed as the quaffle was passed between people and through hoops. The score reached 80-60 to Slytherin.

You could have sworn that Theo was smirking at you.

Only, when the crowd on your side suddenly started cheering, you snapped your gaze away from Theo to see that the Ravenclaw seeker had a shiny golden sphere in their hand.

Immediately, you began cheering as well, throwing middle fingers in Theo's direction. He scowled and rolled his eyes, flying over to you.

"Rigged game."

"Sore loser."

"Whatever."

"That'll be two galleons, please."

He rolled his eyes again, "Meet me after."

***

"Come with me," he said the second he emerged from the changing rooms, grabbing your hand and pulling you along.

You were really confused as he dragged you all the across the quidditch pitch and over the grassy plains of the Hogwarts grounds. Unanswered questions filled you even more as you reached the less thick area of the Forbidden Forest, that was not as forbidden. In the distance, you could make out the skinny black silhouettes of the thestrals.

"Why'd you take me to the thestrals?"

"So you can see them?" he observed the mighty creatures as they noticed your presence.

"You can too?" you asked.

Moving closer to stroke one of them, he replied, "I told you that my mother passed— well, I held her hand on her deathbed when I was eight."

"Oh, I'm sorry..." you gently petted the same one he was.

Theo's mouth settled into a grim line, "Don't be."

Taking a deep breath, you said softly, "I watched my parents get killed when we were in fifth year. It was the Christmas holidays and I came home after shopping to see..." your breath hitched, "To see death eaters torturing them through the window..."

Instead of saying anything, Theo wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his warm chest.

"I just wish I'd done something... but I... I couldn't..." you recalled the day, your heart aching.

"Hey, it's okay, bambi," he pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

"I know they... they only did it... because... because I'm a witch... I just..." you fought against the lump in your throat.

You drew back from his chest, and Theo stroked the softness of your cheeks, staring into your sparkling eyes. He couldn't understand why his heart hurt so much to see you saddened, let alone why it hurt even more when you forced a small smile.

It dawned on him that you were far from nervous and weak, instead quietly carrying the weight of a tragedy that many wouldn't be able to manage. He was amazed that you didn't break down every day: especially since it had been only a couple years, and you were so young.

The realisation that the Christmas season was probably no longer full of festivity and joy for you, but painful reminders and memories, was one that made him grasp your hand tightly.

"Y/N... you're the strongest, smartest and kindest person I know..." he spoke softly, caressing your palm.

Your voice cracked when you said, "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. The next thing you felt was his soft and plush lips against yours, sitting there in a sweet and chaste kiss.

Your lips parted as he rested his forehead against yours and squeezed your hand as gently as if you were a porcelain doll.

"Where d'you go during the holidays?" he asked hesitantly.

"I live with my great aunt now."

The evidence of how hard you found the absence of your parents was shown through your expression.

"Is she nice?"

You nodded, "But she can't fill the hole."

He understood. His cold and cruel father could never— would never— step up and pick up where his angelic mother left off.

"Y/N," he said softly, "You know what my father is, don't you?"

"Everyone does," you murmured, "How is he not imprisoned?" You grimaced after asking that, and added, "No offense."

He chuckled dryly, "None taken. I despise him," he then paused for a moment, but continued, "I just want you to know I'm not like him— I'm not—"

You pushed a finger against his lips, silencing him. "I know, Teddy. I wouldn't be here right now if I thought you were, no?"

The corner of his lips curved up in a smile, "My mum used to call me that."

"Oh, I'm sorry—"

"No. It feels right coming from you."

You matched his smile. "Theo, I... I think I love you."

He cupped your face with his warm hands, "I know I love you."

—————————————

masterlist

written; 04/03/2020 —> 27/12/2024 published; 28/12/2024 edited; 25/03/2025

[ginevrapng]

harry would simply refuse to pull out. the first time you said harry didn't need to put a condom on while having sex he was in heaven. you just feel so good around him, so wet and warm, he could stay inside you all day. this is one of the reasons why he wouldn't pull out.

the main reason being though that filling you with his cum gets him hard again almost immediately. he loves watching his cum spill out of your body before he pushes it back in with his fingers, bringing you to another orgasm as he mercilessly plunges his fingers back inside you. he loves knowing that he could knock you up, creating a family with you. he's considered swapping your birth control pills with sugar pills but doesn't want to risk you finding out, he knows eventually it will happen. it will stick. until then every night he'll cum deep inside you.

[malfoy-mrsdracomalfoy]

Potions Partner

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Strong language, some bullying

Word Count: 4268

Summary: Fem!Reader is Draco's Potions partner and has struck his fancy. The catch? The feelings are not mutual. Draco is determined to change that.

Author's Note: This is a slow burn.

Reader's Point Of View:

Draco, my so-called Potions partner is sitting next to me- not paying attention as per usual. Apparently his conversation with Crabbe and Goyle can't wait until class is dismissed. In a lull in conversation, Draco glances over at me, acknowledging my presence for the first time ever.

"Oi, girl." He says, turning his full attention to me.

I look up from my notes to him. "What?" I'm already annoyed I turned in our essay that was supposed to be a team effort to Professor Snape. The only part Draco contributed to it was writing his name on the corner under mine.

He smirks, leaning back in his chair. "Just making sure you're not too busy trying to understand something too complicated for someone like you."

"Oh how thoughtful of you." I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes. his smirk widens at my response, genuinely finding amusement in bothering me.

"You find yourself to be clever, yeah? Talking to me like that."

"Like what, then?"

"Sassy. It's rather cute that you think you're just going to get away with that."

I give him an unimpressed look before promptly looking back at my notes, trying to tune into Snape's lecture again. Finally, the trio falls into silence after Snape gives them a very heavy glare. That doesn't shake Draco enough to leave me be. I feel his eyes on me just about the entire lecture- not taking any notes of his own.

I turn my body away from him so he can only see the back of my robes- feeling annoyed and slightly self-conscious.

After a few minutes, Snape dismisses class and I gather all my things and haul out of the classroom, walking quickly through the crowd of students. Draco catches up with me, matching my pace as I walk. Does this guy really not have anything else better to do?

"You know, every girl in this school would drop their knickers for me- why are you acting like you're better than any of them?" He says, clearly taking an ego hit with my lack of interest. I let out a laugh of disbelief. "Do you actually believe that? I mean you actually believe that most girls want to 'drop their knickers' for you?" I say, mimicking his accent when I repeat his repulsive comment. His smirk returns full force.

"Without a doubt. I could have any girl in this school. Hell, I could have half the professors, too." He says arrogantly, watching me intently for my reaction.

"Oh! Professors as well? Wow! You're really something." I say, voice mocking. His eyes slightly narrow at my tone.

"I bet you're jealous you're not one of the girls I want."

"More like I'm not one of the girls you can have." I look at him, small smirk forming.

"You're not even pretty." He says, testing my reaction. I bet he expects me to wilt like a flower.

"No? Pity. I so badly wanted to be called pretty by someone like you." I say sarcastically. His smirk widens as if he's enjoying someone pushing back to his insults.

"You're rather ugly." He says, waiting for me to snap back to him.

"Ugly? How will I ever bounce back from this heart-breaking insult? I am SO wounded." I say, keeping my sarcastic tone. He laughs softly before he covers it with his usual smirk.

"You're a bloke repellant. I mean, look at you. You have no tits or ass." He adds, clearly trying to offend me.

"Oh, you've been looking, then?" I stop us mid-walk and turn to look at him fully. A challenge. His eyes widen briefly, caught off guard by my quick comeback.

"You know what I mean." He runs his gaze over me deliberately this time. "You have no redeeming qualities." I watch his eyes carefully, smugly noticing that he's checking me out under the guise of judgement.

"You say that but your eyes lingered a little longer than they should've."

"Fuck off." He says gruffly, turning away to hide his face.

"You started this. I'm just finishing it. I always finish what I start." I say, wanting to throw him off with an unexpected innuendo to catch his reaction. He slowly turns back, his smirk back in place.

"You shouldn't talk like that." His voice drops lower. "It makes a bloke think things."

"I'm not in charge of the innerworkings of a man's mind." I give him a once over. "Besides. I don't know why you're hassling me about my looks. You have no room to talk." He laughs genuinely, seemingly unphased.

"At least I have a dick." He says, trying to shock me but I spy his hands slightly shaking at my newfound confidence. "You probably don't even know what one looks like."

"A dick? What's that?" I pretend to be confused.

He stares at me for a moment, speechless. Then, he bursts out laughing- loud and uninhibited.

"You're fucking with me right now." He says between chuckles.

"Obviously." I say, confident and standing tall.

He shakes his head as he stop laughing, keeping a smile on his face. He takes a step closer.

"You know what would really fuck with me right now?"

"I have a feeling you'll tell me even if I don't ask."

"Smartarse." His blue eyes hold mine intently. "I'd be really fucked right now if you just.. for once.. stop being such a clever fucking witch and just admit you find me attractive." His voice is barely above a whisper, and I spy a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. I knew he cared about my opinion even though he acts like he's unbothered by anything. I pretend to be thoughtful for few moments.

"Hm. No."

His face breaks into a grin, clearly amused by my denial.

"You're seriously telling me that I'm standing here practically begging you to admit I turn you on..."

I smirk. "I rather like a begging man." I say, pleased I have the upper hand now. He stares at me for a moment, shocked again by my direct approach.

"Fuck, you're infuriating." He says with a low chuckle, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Oh, yeah?" I tilt my head to the side, smirk in place.

He steps even closer, his voice challenging. He wants to push me. I bet he wonders how far he can go before I actually snap or give in. "You know what your problem is?"

"I drive men wild with my charm?"

His eyes flicker down to my lips briefly before meeting my gaze again. He smirks, his voice low and seductive "No, your problem is you have no idea how attractive you are when you're being a sassy little bitch."

"Attractive?" I remark with a smirk. He watches me for a second, an amused grin taking over his face.

"Shut up."

"No, I don't think I will." I shift slightly, popping my hip out and crossing my arms. I know exactly what I'm doing. He's going to eat his words and regret he ever made any sort of sexist comment about my appearance. His eyes flick down to my hip, taking in the newfound curves it gives me.

"Stop moving like that." He says, trying to look annoyed but his eyes betray him. He finds me attractive whether he admits it to himself or not.

"Or what?" I say, holding his gaze, eyebrow raised. This was his last straw.

His hand reaches out and grabs me by my hips, pulling me flush against him. "Or I might just have to show you exactly what your smart mouth and sassy attitude do to me." I chuckle. I win.

"You're trouble, and not the fun kind." I say, pulling slightly back- I'm not that easy to get. I feel his fingers dig into my hip slightly, holding me in place. He leans down, his face inches from mine.

"You're the kind of girl that every bloke wants but wouldn't dare try. Too hard to get. Too much hassel."

"But you're not like most guys- are you?" I smirk up at him, pleased I have him in my web now. His grip on my hip tightens as he smirks back, his voice a low growl.

"No. I actually have the balls to go after what I want."

"What is it that you want?"

He releases my hip suddenly, his hands coming to frame my face as he backs me against the wall. "I want you. Your mouth, your attitude... I want to see if you're as fiery in bed as you are out of it." He pauses, face inches from mine. I nearly laugh out loud. As if he think it'll be that easy.

"Not going to happen." I smirk, looking over his features. "I like how boldly you declared that though."

His expression turns embarrassed at my rejection but he quickly covers it with anger. He steps back, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "Fine. Keep acting like you're too good for me, then." He turns to leave but pauses at the door, looking back over his shoulder.

"Something to add?" I say, amused at his ego hit. He needed to be taken down several notches.

"You're so busy being the 'unattainable girl' that you miss out on having any fun." He smirks mirthlessly. "I can have anyone I want. At least those girls know how to act on their desires. They're not stuck up like you." With that parting shot, he storms out of the room.

"Wow. Good insult." I say sarcastically, laughing slightly as I adjust my skirt. "Drama king."

ONE WEEK LATER

Over this last week, Draco has started a subtle campaign of flirtation and teasing me, testing the waters to see if I'll react. He's constantly finding moments alone with me to drop hints or remarks. In between classes, during study hall, even through the dark hallways at night. He's persistent, I'll give him that.

Feeling like I'm falling behind in Potions due to Draco's 'subtle' touches and his loud conversations with his friends- I decide I need to buckle down and head to the library. I refuse to get anything less than an 'Outstanding' because of him.

LIBRARY

Thankful for the silence of the library- I take my favorite seat in the back where there's low foot traffic. I work diligently for a few minutes before I hear an unexpected sound- a swoosh and something with claws landing on wood. I stop my quill mid-air as I still, listening for the sound and looking around- wondering if it's my owl. On a bookshelf about three rows down, my eyes land on an Eurasian Eagle Owl. The owl watches me for a moment before turning and promptly flying out the closest open window.

Turning my eyes back to my essay, I jump back onto my train of thought I had just moments ago. For a while, the only sound in the library is the scratching of my quill on parchment and the occasional page flip.

That is until I hear the creak of the library door opening. I sigh, annoyed that there's going to be someone in here with me. I was hoping for absolute isolation and silence. I hear footsteps approaching- so I look up.

"Hey, beautiful." The smooth and confident voice of Draco floats to me before he reaches me with his usual stride- chest squared and shoulders slightly back.

"Draco." I say casually, turning my attention back to my homework.

"I missed you today. How's your day been?" He presses on, smirk on his face.

"I'm working on an essay. I would appreciate silence."

He takes the seat next to me, raising his hands in surrender as he turns to face the table, grabbing his own things out. I'm granted a few moments of quiet to focus on my homework.

"Y/n?" Draco says, voice quiet.

"What?" I say, turning my head to the side to look at him.

"I forgot my potions book. Can I borrow yours?" He asks, smirk in place. "Or we can share."

"Yeah, go on. I'm done with it anyway."

He leans over to 'borrow' the book. As he reaches across me, his arm brushes against my chest deliberately. He pauses for a moment longer than necessary before setting the book down in front of him. "Thanks." He says, looking smug.

I roll my eyes and scoot a chair away from him. Why was he sitting right next to me, anyway? The whole library is empty. I roll my eyes and pull out my Charms textbook, taking notes.

He notices my slight movement away from him but doesn't comment on it. Instead, he leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rides up slightly, revealing a strip of his toned stomach. "It's hot in here, isn't it?" He comments, looking at me with a smirk.

"Actually, I'm rather cold. Must be a draft from the air of superiority that surrounds you."

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Always the sharp tongue. I should have known better than to expect anything less from you." He leans towards me, resting his elbows on the table. I hear the library door open again, and a few students shuffle in and take the table a few rows over.

"Must you be here? Couldn't you be anywhere else?" I say, rolling my eyes and turning my attention back to my notes.

He chuckles softly, the sound low and mocking. "And miss out on our banter? No thank you. Plus, my owl found you for me. You should be honored." He watches me from the corner of his eye, his quill moving idly across the page as he pretends to work on his own homework.

I shake my head and turn away so he doesn't see the smile that creeps across my features. I shouldn't find that flattering, it's creepy. He sent his owl to look for me so he can come bother me. But, he must have caught my smile because he smirks which turns into a full blown grin. He knows he's getting to me.

He pushes a little further by 'accidentally' dropping his quill on the floor right between our two chairs. "Oops." He remarks casually, bending over to pick it up- his soft, platinum locks tickling the bare skin of my arm.

"You're not nearly as slick as you think you are." I say. When he raises his head from picking up his quill, he lingers a few moments- his face level with mine. I spot a teasing glint in his ice blue eyes.

"And you're not as unaffected as you pretend to be."

"Shut up." I say, turning from him to hide my shy smile.

"You're feisty tonight." He pauses, letting his sentence hang in the air before continuing. "But I must say... it suits you."

"Everything does." I shrug casually, pretending to focus on my notes.

An amused smile settles over his lips. "You know what your problem is?" He leans forward, his voice dropping conspiratorially. "You're too smart."

"Oh, yeah?" And you know what YOUR problem is?"

He leans back again, his gaze never faltering. "No doubt I'm going to enjoy hearing this." His smirk returns full force as he waits.

"You think you're being charming and persistent, but you're just flat out annoying. Like a fly buzzing in someone's ear."

This time, he laughs out loud. "You're harsh."

"If you think that's harsh, you should hear the things I don't say out loud."

His smirk returns slowly. "Need I remind you that most girls would kill to even be seated next to me?"

"So they can choke on your expensive cologne? It's far too strong and you have too much of it on."

The eavesdropping students a few tables over laugh quietly and glance over, obviously finding this banter entertaining. Draco catches their eye and they look away quickly, pretending to work again.

"You really don't care about my reputation, do you?" He asks incredulously.

"Should I?"

His smirk widens but he says nothing more. Taking his silence as the end of our conversation, I reopen my textbook- aware of his dangerously close proximity. I take advantage of the silence, finishing up my homework and standing to go. Draco murmurs a small "see you later." as I pass him by, which I return, then I leave the library- feeling a little more warmth to a certain blonde Slytherin with an ego that's too big but a charm that's far bigger.

POTIONS CLASS

As I lean over to read a small caption in my Potions textbook, my hair falls into my face. Before I get a chance to move it- I jump at the feeling of gentle fingers pull it back for me. Once the strands are tucked behind my ear, the warm fingers of Draco Malfoy linger on the skin of my cheek for longer than necessary.

When I glance up to meet his eye, he smirks- pulling his chair closer to me before he sits down. He leans closer to me, his voice low and husky when he speaks. "May I borrow your notes?" He asks softly. "Please?"

"If you must." I tease, sliding my notes over to him. His lips twitch slightly at my teasing response. He copies my notes quickly, and Crabbe and Goyle slide chairs to join us at the table. Draco hands them my notes to borrow as well.

"Oh sure, pass them around." I mumble, rolling my eyes and leaning back in my chair. "You're lucky I was done with them."

Draco chuckles softly. I watch as he passes my notes around the table which is somehow bustling with various members of his clan coming to copy my notes before leaving. I watch them flip through my pages with impressed murmurs.

"Damn, y/n." Says one of the Slytherins. I couldn't tell who because I don't know half their names.

I glance over at him, some tall guy with shaggy brown hair. The Slytherin leans forward conspiratorially before he glances over at Draco. "I never thought I'd see Malfoy sitting next to someone that's smarter than him." He winks at me before moving away to his own table. As fast at they came, Draco's clan left.

"Well, this was odd." I say, organizing all my notes that have been returned to me, "No thanks to you. Distributing my notes like it was the morning paper."

Draco smirks at my sarcastic comment, leaning back in his chair with a lazy grace. He watches me intently- his eyes never leaving my face. When I look up at him, he raises an eyebrow. "I was just helping." He says, his tone mock innocent.

"Yeah, helping. Real helpful bloke you are." I say sarcastically, "You'd help me right over a boat's dock into shark-infested waters."

His smirk widens at my comeback. "Well, at least I'd still be helpful. You wouldn't have to do it yourself."

"Funny." I give him an unimpressed look- "And is that what you call yourself? I have a few other choice words in mind. 'Helpful' is not one of them."

He laughs softly, the sound genuine and warm. I really enjoy this banter with him, and I even enjoy him chasing me. It's fun.

"What would you call it then?"

"Annoying." I say, point-blank. He laughs a little louder this time, drawing the attention of some nearby students. He ignores them, focused on me entirely. "Annoying?" He repeats, still smiling, "I'll take that as a compliment coming from you." His eyes sparkle with amusement.

"What are you even doing right now? You've just been sat in that position for the last half hour and you've not gotten one thing done." I gesture to his open textbook and blank parchment. Well, he did have one page of notes done but only because he copied mine. He follows my gaze to his untouched book, still on page 394.

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Maybe I find other things more interesting than studying right now." He says smoothly.

"Does your incessant flirting ever cease?"

He leans back in his chair, a playful glint in his eye as he replies, "Not when I'm enjoying myself this much." He pauses, "And not when I'm around someone who keeps my attention so well." I look at him for a few moments. He's effectively wearing me down with his persistence and I am starting to form a small crush on him that I quickly suppress because there's no way I want him to know he's right about being wanted by every girl.

"You know what your problem is?"

He raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk as he waits for my response. "Enlighten me." He says, voice low and inviting. "What's my problem?"

"You stare unrelentingly at me. You remind me of a snake watching its prey."

His smirk widens at my analogy. He leans forward again, maintaining direct eye contact. "And what if I am? Do you know how rare it is to find someone who can actually handle my stare?" His voice drops lower, "Most avoid it."

"Your stare is quite intense, isn't it?" My eyes flicker between both of his ice blue ones.

"Some people say my stare is intimidating. My mother swears I inherited from my father." He laughs softly, "What do you think?"

"You really don't want to know what I think." I laugh softly to myself, tucking my things away to busy myself- small smile in place.

He watches me tuck away my things for a second before he stands up abruptly, making the chair scrape loudly against the floor and steps right behind me. "I do want to know." His voice comes from behind me, his figure towering. I feel suddenly flustered.

"Have you no decorum? We're still in class." I shuffle slightly in my seat. I feel him lean down slightly- his lips close to my ear.

"But you're here next to me, looking so good..." He whispers, "I'm not bothering anyone else, am I?" His breath tickles my neck.

"No, you've just stuck with bothering me."

He lets out a low chuckle, his chest vibrating on my back. I feel his presence almost completely now. I can't help but imagine what it would be like to be under him in a different scenario.

Noticing how quiet it's become, I glance around to see that at some point class was dismissed and Draco and I were left behind. We are the only ones left in the entire classroom.

"Only because you're the most interesting thing in the room," He admits quietly, "You don't back down from my snark, you speak your mind..."

I turn to smirk up at him, faces inches apart. "Soon, you'll be writing me love letters like a pining admirer."

He rolls his eyes at my teasing, but I see a small smile tug at his face. "Don't push your luck." He says without any real heat behind his words. "My handwriting is atrocious."

"Oh, so it's fitting for your personality then?"

He laughs genuinely, looking over my features, clearly enjoying this verbal sparring and extremely close proximity. "Touché" He grins, "You really are quite... sharp." His eyes flick down to my lips briefly before he settles his gaze on my eyes again. "Incredibly witty."

"Don't forget beautiful." I tease, voice playful.

"Beautiful, witty, and annoying as hell." He mutters, his voice affectionate. "The perfect combination."

I give a small smile, shaking my head up at him. "You're being far too nice. What are you up to?"

Realizing he's been slowly shedding his flirty advances for something more meaningful, he clears his throat and regains his composure- standing back upright and heading back to his seat, sitting down stiffly. "Nothing." he says, "Just enjoying the banter with a girl who can actually keep up." He pauses.

"Oh. Is that all?" I smirk at him, already missing his close proximity.

"What else would it be?" He challenges, his voice low. "You think I'm flirting with you?"

"Oh, you're absolutely flirting with me. That's what's been happening."

He stares at me for a long moment.

"Then let me be clear." He says, his voice low and intense. His eyes lock onto mine as he leans in closer. "I am not just flirting with you." He says firmly, "I am courting you. There's a difference." He pauses, letting the words sink in. "And I don't do this with just anyone." I look at him thoughtfully for a moment.

"I like you, y/n." Draco says, holding my gaze. "I'm not pursuing you for a shag. I think you're beautiful, and clever, and witty, and brilliant and I like spending time with you and talking to you."

"Draco.." I start softly.

"Y/n. Please." He says, cutting me off. "Let me finish. Yeah?" He looks at me, waiting for my nod. When he gets it, he continues.

"I want to spend more time with you. Intentional time. I want to pursue a romantic relationship with you. Are you willing to try with me?" He reaches out to take my hand, intertwining our fingers before setting them in my lap.

"Yes, Draco. I am willing to try with you." I say, finally allowing my carefully constructed walls to begin cracking. I have a feeling it'll be a long journey for the both of us but I also know it'll be worth it.

Masterlist

[cherry-pop-elf]

My Roommate Is A Wiz With Animals

Newt x Muggle!Reader

SUM: You were returning home from work, when you stumbled across the strangest little animal. You couldn’t just abandon them. Even tho they are kinda funky. Animals deserve love and shelter, and that seems to win you quite the lost and found reward

Warnings: So much dang fluff, animal smuggling, Teddy shenanigans, Newt accidentally being really good at manipulation, reader is naive enough for plot purposes, MIGHT be a multi part series. Might…..Ok it will be shoosh

“Ugh I swear those shifts are getting longer and longer.” You would groan with your neck rolling around. Just trying to get your joints stretched. Was rather late in the evening. You had to cover for someone. Curse you for actually being a good human and helping someone out! Eh over time is over time at least.

You were still a bit nervous to head home so late. The sun was setting, and it casted the New York sky scrapers were casting such eerie shadows across the world. There was a beauty in it, but also it’s terrifying. Terrifying to be out late in the city night.

Had you picking up the pace.

As you tried to hurry home, before the street lights kicked on, you would hear the trash cans banging together. Made your heart stop, as you instinctively turned to look at the noise.

Didn’t seem like a person at least, so that gave you some calm. Still, could be a wild dog. Not that you hated dogs or anything, but street dogs are built to survive the streets for a reason.

You couldn’t help but stare, and wait, to see what would come out. Maybe it’s a kitten? A puppy? Ok now that you were cycling through the concept of a poor lost animal in the streets of the city that never sleeps had your heart ache.

Call you dumb, but you went to peak.

Was met with quite a surprise.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were looking at. It was some weird looking platypus mixed with a mole. Maybe it’s a sister species to platypi? It’s not unheard of that the rich and powerful have exotic animals. That there’s a black market for them. Maybe this poor baby escaped.

“You poor thing. New York and scraps isn’t meant for you.” You would Cooe at it, as the little creature looked up at you. Looking scared honestly. Would even reach its little arms out to you. How that made your heart explode from the utter cuteness.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Come here baby.” You would lift up the strange creature, and opened your jacket to tuck them closer to your chest. Help them warm up from the cold streets.

They would snuggle into your chest, as they felt a little safer. Grabbed at your top even. Didn’t want to end up back to the streets again. Like hell you would.

With a baby to take care of you made your quick walk into a proper jog. A rather good motivation to help you speed up on your way home. You had a tiny little thing to care for. One that needed a bath and some food. Shit, what would it eat? Maybe you’ll leave a variety of foods out and whatever they go for first could be what they like? You’ll worry about it later. Now was to get home.

Into the apartment complex you went, up the elevator, and you were home. Made sure all your locks on your door were clicked, and you would soon drop your things off.

“You poor thing. Let’s get you cleaned up, and feed you. How’s that sound?” You swore they were nodding at you. Seeming to comprehend what you were telling them very well. Maybe it’s an exotic pet thing? Or you are tired. Probably tired.

Into the bathroom you went. You ran a warm bath for them, and kept it shallow. Didn’t quite know what to do, so you just set them down in the warm water. Didn’t really have animal safe soap, so just water and a rag will do.

Have the cutest little noises at the gentle scrubs. Poor thing was filthy. Must have been on the streets for a while. Broke your heart. Such a brave little solider. Able to handle out there for as long as they did.

“Let’s dry you off and feed you.” You would lift the little thing up, and made sure they got nice and dry. Get all that grime off them. Certainly seemed alot happier now, so you guess you did a really good job.

Once you stepped out of the bathroom you heard knocking at your door. Who’s going to be contacting you this late? Let alone you in general? Had you cautious. You first found a strange animal, and now someone was knocking at your door? That didn’t equal good.

“Don’t make a noise. I’ll be right back.” You whispered, as you quickly took them to your room. Plopped right on your bed, and you closed the door.

You would wrap yourself in a bath robe, since you had changed into your sleep wear, and peeped through the peep hole.

The sight sure was strange.

There on the other side had to be the embodiment of sunshine. Had this curious attire of blue and browns, a suit case in one hand, and a stick in the other? Why does this fluffy haired guy have a stick with him? Maybe you just couldn’t see properly from the peep hole.

“Who’s at the door?!” You called, and you watched those big sparkling eyes light up. Excited that someone was home.

“Ah yes! Uh you don’t know me but you have something of mine! A sweet little thing. His name is Teddy! He’s mine. My Ni-Uh. Mine. Just mine!” He called back, as you were confused. How did he know you had something?

“One moment!” You figured you would see if he was right. You would quickly return to your bedroom, seeing the animal still on your bed, and called out.

“Come here Teddy-!”

And like that he was running right over you. Quick to jump into your arms.

Ok, maybe this guy had some truth. Still, you had questions.

You would return to the door, only to see that all the locks on the door were undone. Had you so horribly confused. There was a number of locks in a variety of styles there. No way you forgot to lock them all. Could you?

That’s when the door opened, and the man stepped in. The way Teddy seemed to squeak for the strangers attention. Hands reaching out like a toddler who wanted their mother. Was just so human. Seemed like Teddy really loved this stranger.

So, you didn’t refuse.

“OH TEDDY I WAS SO WORRIED-!” He sounded ready to sob, as he held Teddy close. Tears in the corner of his eyes as Teddy held the man’s face. Giving his cheek plenty of Nuzzles.

“You seem suspiciously clean for running around out there. Did you wash him? Did you take care of him-?” He spoke with such enthusiasm. Was like he might burst into confetti.

“Uh yeah. I just saw him hiding by some trash cans and I just couldn’t leave him behind. He wasn’t aggressive in the slightest either. Poor Teddy was cold, and just alone. I was actually about to try and feed him even.”

You were soon yanked into a rather tight hug. Felt like he might squeeze you lifeless. Teddy made sure to crawl over his daddy’s shoulder to avoid being crushed. Just snuggled away into his neck. Happy to be back.

“Oh you are truly a gift. Oh I don’t know how I can ever repay such kindness and warmth you’ve given him. Oh he’s my everything really. He gets into trouble often, sure, but he’s mine.” He explained, before finally letting you go. Little cheek kisses were given from Teddy, and the man would happily nuzzle into them. Was so clear that this wasn’t some poacher or animal smuggler. That made you feel better.

“So uh. Who are you exactly?”

That had his ears a soft pink, and a shy laugh left him.

“Oh blimey. Pardon me. The name is Newt. Newt Scamander. I’m Ma…I uh mean a Zoologist. I travel around the world studying animals, rescuing those that I can, and just loving nature. The pay isn’t that great but it’s worth it.” He would offer you a hand, and you would shake it in return. Telling him your name as well. And your own career.

“So kinda like a nomad. Does that mean you don’t have a place to stay?” You questioned, as he seemed to avoid your eyes for a moment. As if either to embarrassed to admit it, or trying to quickly come up with a lie.

“Well um. You see…I was currently trying to get a room for myself, but someone had to go running off. Can’t really blame him though. He adores shiny things. I should have been more careful. I know he has a weakness to things that shimmer and sparkle. It was all on me.” He would admit, as you had to respect that he was taking accountability.

“I mean. One night can’t hurt, right?” You couldn’t help it. This guy seemed to not be native here in the slightest. Said he’s a world traveler, sure, but it seems he’s not used to a concrete jungle. Wasn’t dressed for it, and sure didn’t seem like he was prepared at all. Did he really just only have that suit case with him? To travel the world? Something seemed….Off.

“Oh no no. You’ve already done so much. You’ve protected my baby. I can’t be asking you more-“ He tried to persuade you away, but your curiosity was to peaked. This guy was weird. Didn’t give any bad vibes kinda weird. Just….So peculiar.

“It’s one night really. You must have been hunting Teddy for hours. You didn’t get a chance to find a room, and it’s super late now. I can’t just throw you into the streets. One night. Just one.” You tried to logically explain, only to get another near back breaking hug.

“Oh I’ll never be able to repay your kindness. Oh your heart is so full. No wonder Teddy trusted you. Teddy has always been a brilliant judge of character. He knew you were a good person. No way would he let a stranger just hold him, let alone wash him. Oh thank you-!” You could feel the tears of relief in your shoulder, and all you could do was rub his back. Letting him breathe.

So that was how you ended up with a stranger living on your couch. Well, can’t say stranger given you knew his name now. Still! Most people would call you insane for doing such a thing.

Maybe you were.

But hey! Insane people have the most fun!

Besides, he’s pretty damn cute. Cute to see him snuggled into the couch, with Teddy under his arm, and his suitcase slid under the couch. Made sure to stay out of sight. You figured it was full of valuable paper work.

Did make you wonder though.

Where the hell did those pajamas he was wearing come from then? Did he just have them in that case and papers?

He was just full of to many questions to ignore.

He’s a stranger, but you just had to learn more.

Learn what made that man tick.