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#Neville Longbottom
bethsvrse · 1 year
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STOP MAKING MY LIL AWKWARD NERDY BOYS BE CONFIDENT AND SO SURE OF THEMSELVES!!! I LIKE THEM BECAUSE THEY’RE NERDY NOT BECAUSE YOU FANFIC WRITERS MAKE THEM EGO MANIC ASSHOLES
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meemoop · 18 days
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The Love Potion pt. 1
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I recently discovered that I spend nearly ten minutes on each panel handwriting the dialogue; I have naturally terrible handwriting and making it neat takes time. So, I’ve tried typing. How is it?
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lilyslark · 2 months
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oh two people whose lives were so deeply entwined that their dying words echoed one another?
do you mean james “lily, take harry and go! it’s him! go! run!” potter & sirius “harry, take the prophecy, grab neville, and run!” black?
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the-colourful-witch · 2 months
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🚂The Hogwarts Express🚂
I loved working on this piece, putting my own spin on the design of the carriage and the candy trolley :) 🍭 The Hogwarts Express scenes are always so amazing and cozy and fun, so I thought it time to do something with it :)
I hope you enjoy this one! Have fun spotting all the little magical details :) ✨⚡️🚂
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Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.
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For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader
Word count: 8k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!
first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)
You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.
So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.
“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.
“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.
“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.
After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.
That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.
You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.
“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.
“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.
“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.
You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.
“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.
“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”
“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.
“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.
“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”
“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”
“What’s he done?”
“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”
“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”
“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”
“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.
“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.
“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”
“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”
So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.
“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.
“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”
“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.
“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.
“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.
“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.
“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.
“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.
“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”
“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“
Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.
Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.
“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.
“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.
“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”
“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.
“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”
“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.
“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.
“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.
The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.
Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.
“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.
“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.
“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.
“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”
“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.
“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”
“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”
“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”
“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”
You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.
“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.
He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.
“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.
That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.
“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.
Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.
“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.
“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”
“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.
Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.
“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.
He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.
You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.
“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.
At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.
“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.
He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.
“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”
His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.
“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.
“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.
He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.
“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.
“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.
“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.
“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.
He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.
You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.
“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.
“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.
He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.
You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.
You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.
He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.
“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.
Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.
Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.
“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.
You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.
“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,
“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.
“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.
“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.
“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”
Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.
“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”
“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”
“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”
At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.
“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.
“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.
“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.��� He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.
He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.
“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”
“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.
“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”
“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.
“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”
“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.
“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”
“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.
“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.
It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.
“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.
“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.
“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.
“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.
“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.
“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.
“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.
“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”
“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.
You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.
The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.
Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.
“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”
“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”
“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”
“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.
“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.
“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.
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maluceh · 9 months
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ode to mothers, Pandora and Alice
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luvvyouforever · 9 months
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headcanons : harry potter boys x keeper!reader
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↳ harry, ron, draco, neville, fred, george, remus, and sirius with a partner who can wield ancient magic (hogwarts legacy style).
↳ requests are open! submit ideas, drabbles, headcanons, or one shots to the link in my bio! don’t be shy <3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
harry potter:
-thinks it is the coolest shit ever! when you're in a fight together and you protect him by shooting a powerful blue bolt towards the enemy that disintegrates their very beginning, he feels so proud to be your partner!
-on the other side, he also knows it feels like to have a lot of pressure and power on your side. he worries about what it must feel like to wield ancient magic and be the only living person who can see it. every time you use it, he checks on you after, ensuring that you don't feel too exhausted and can continue fighting.
-supported you so much through the trials. he didn't need to know every detail of what you did and went through but he would hold you so tight when you came back, praising you over and over for being so strong and brave.
ron weasley:
-he's a little jealous, ngl. like his partner can use this sick magic and is responsible for keeping the magic safe and alive out of the wrong hands?? why can't he do that???
-i also feel like ron would be confused, if not a little angry, that you refuse to share the power and attempt what others have before (such as isidora using the magic to remove pain). he doesn't really understand the problem and feels like the keepers are suspicious.
-he'd brag about you alllllll the time though! like oh my god every second he would find some way to bring up the fact that you can do really awesome things and that you are his awesome partner forever!
draco malfoy:
-draco loves you a lot and finds your magic incredibly cool, don't get me wrong, but i think his family swayed his pursuit of you because wouldn't it be so grand if the malfoys had a keeper in their family? someone so powerful and knowledgeable? who would pass down the truth and their magic? yes please! (every time narcissa brings it up, it irks draco but also he pats himself on the shoulder for choosing you)
-wants to know every detail about the trials and the past and the memories you're viewing! you'll come back from a trial, sweaty and tired, maybe bleeding, and he'd help you first then ask hundreds of questions after.
-your use of ancient magic is not necessarily unknown and makes you quite popular among the students of hogwarts. this, however, makes draco really jealous. if he could, he would follow you everywhere, glaring down anyone who tries to make a move on you. before you go on adventures, classes, or just to the common room, he'll drape you in his slytherin scarf as if he was marking you.
neville longbottom:
-poor thing gets so nervous when you have to complete the trials or do something incredibly important for the sake of keeping the magic safe. he knows he can't go along with you but he'd stay by your side until the very moment you enter the map chamber, whispering praises and support the whole time.
-would heal up all your wounds and take care of you if you exerted too much during a fight. he knows how much everyone depends on you and the least he can do is take care of you properly! he would run you a bath, apply soothing balms to your skin or use his plants to heal you up, and cuddle you tightly!
-tries his hardest to not feel useless but sometimes it's hard when you're so strong and he's so...not. of course you'll always reassure him and give him the confidence he needs but very frequently, he gets really down on himself about it.
fred weasley:
-every day he comes to you with a new scheme that involves your magic. could you make a portal that leads from the dungeons of hogwarts to the top of the astronomy tower? it's important. snape is gonna get really mad when he goes into his office? can your magic fix that?
-begs, and i mean BEGS, you to let him come along on your adventures and battles. he wants nothing more than to support you and fight along your side! as long it's not a trial, you can't help but let him come along. you usually end up saving him after he pays a little more attention to the way your whip around the battle, taking down everyone effortlessly.
-speaking of paying too much attention to you, he thinks it is so attractive than you can do what you do! he gives you some time after fighting to recuperate but then immediately he is ON you. he's kissing you and telling you how hot it is when you turn someone to just particles.
george weasley:
-he wants you to teach him everything you can. there are some things that are just simply innate and can not be taught but all your tips and tricks when it comes to fighting will now be all of his tips and tricks. you two would just find some field away from the burrow and go at it, sending spell after spell at each other. georgie is just overflowing with adrenaline and it's a great way to get it out.
-deep down, a part of him wants to be protective of you. he wants to keep you from going out into danger and taking on dangerous tasks all for magic and some old people telling you what to do. but he knows better, trust me. he knows you can defend yourself just fine but he just wants to put you in a little bubble and never let anything hurt you.
-just like ron, he will brag about you whenever he can. everyone is sitting around the great hall table, talking about how it's so cool that you defeated a troll in one fell swoop and he just wraps his arm around your shoulders, a glimmer in his eye as he proceeds to say "yeah, aren't they just so amazing?"
remus lupin:
-fears for your health and safety so much! when you come back from a trial, he's hushing you and putting you in bed, feeding you chocolate and brewing tea until you feel better!! you are bearing the weight of centuries old magic all alone. the least he can do is take care of you!
-supports your decisions throughout your entire journey as a keeper. if you truly believe that releasing ancient magic to the world and using it for more than the original keepers intended, then he understands. if you want to continue to keep it hidden, he will not question your judgement.
-this is so fluffy but i feel like you figured out how to manipulate your ancient magic to floating, bright blue scenes and pictures. around remus's time of the month (said lovingly), you'll lay in bed with him and use your wand to paint pictures of animals, lakes, waves, stars, or, in more sappy moments, your future.
sirius black:
-he thinks it is SO hot that you can take someone down without barely blinking an eye. his favorite move you do is when you lift someone into the air and slam them down repeatedly. gets blushy and turned on excited every time.
-once followed you down into the map chamber only to be very harshly yelled at by one of the keeper's portraits. he just wanted to see what it looked like and to know where you go on dangerous missions!! who can blame him, truly? definitely grumbled the whole rest of the day.
-when you two get married, he refuses to let you take his last name and instead will either take yours or say screw it and come up with one! he doesn't want his family to have the gratification of having a keeper with the black family name. he wants you to shine for who you are and in another century, he wants your name to be yours, not his.
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crymsyy · 2 months
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Bloody, Slutty and Pathetic by WhatMurdah
My version of plant daddy Neville and the death eater b*tch, Pansy <3
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Use for PERSONAL binds is allowed, but only with permission and credit.
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dream-with-a-fever · 27 days
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i love the silver trio so much but it always grinds my gears when i remember that while neville and luna still don’t have that much screen time, you still get an essence of who they are as people. their personalities, their morals, their relationship dynamics with other characters (like harry) and yet ginny, despite being a bigger character than both of them, and being harry’s future partner, mother of his children, most important person in his life (to name a few), ginny has exactly ZERO opportunity to shine. unlike her pals, she gets little to no screen time, let alone scenes one-on-one with harry (which both neville and luna have), her entire personality is erased. everything that makes ginny who she is is removed.
it’s absolutely infuriating to watch. as an audience, how are we supposed to get to know her? to understand her? to understand why she is the woman harry wants to spends the rest of his life with? like i love luna and neville, they’re wonderful characters and additions to the story, but prioritising them over ginny in the films (and giving them additional scenes like luna and harry in the forest alone?? it’s a sweet scene but also??? harry & luna don’t interact like that in the books, not to mention luna is much more eccentric and unintentionally amusing in the books, more so than she is perpetually wise and friendly… like we couldn’t have the library scene or the ‘lucky you’ scene in ootp - arguably the most important scenes for ginny (and harry’s) development but we have time for luna to share some nice slightly ooc wisdom with harry? again, i love luna, and i love that scene too, but cutting other important scenes…?)
i could go on and on about this. but i just hate that she is so sidelined, and discarded in the films, despite being such an important character as an individual and in relation to harry. i’ll never understand you david yates. ginny, sweetie, i’m so sorry.
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To be honest, I can’t believe I have to say this but Severus Snape being angry at Neville for regularly making the equivalent of a pipe bomb in class is not in the realm of SA, stalking and attempted murder. Let’s put the arguement of “well snape bullied his students so he deserved it as a kid” to rest. Cause I’m tired. Really tired of pretending it’s somehow the same. Yes, he was rude, yes he was mean and snarky at times. Doesn’t mean it’s the same on any level as what he suffered as child and teen. Be fucking for real. Not even in the same realm.
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ginevrapng · 10 months
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boyfriend!neville loves overstimulating you. there's nothing better than having his sweet girlfriend lying on his bed while he pulls multiple orgasms out of you. "neville please i can't take any more," you whine. you've just came for the fourth time and he's already touching you again, pressing two of his fingers inside you.
neville hushes you and kisses down your body before taking one of his nipples in your mouth and biting. you squeal and grab hold of his hair. "you know the rules petal keep your hands down or i'll tie them up." you keep your hands to your side and do your best to listen to neville. neville removes his mouth from your nipple but starts placing kisses down your body. he holds your body down by your love handles, occasionally squeezing your soft skin between his fingers. he always touches you in a way that makes you feel loved and special, like you're the most beautiful girl in the world. "you're so bloody pretty petal. you look like a goddess." your face heats up at the compliment.
neville continues leaving kisses down your body until he reaches your pussy and pushes two fingers back inside you causing you to gasp and grab hold of his arm. neville tuts at your action as you go to apologise, " 'm sorry nev just feels s'good.
"keep your hands by your side, i'm not going to tell you again. do you understand?" he says sternly still fingering you. you quickly nod your head. neville gently pinches one of your plush thighs with his other hand. "do you understand?"
"i-i understand. i promise i'll be good nev!" you reply and clench your hands into fists, consciously keeping them by your side. neville hums and places a loving kiss on your cheek, before mumbling against your cheek about how you're such a girl good for him.
neville lowers down your body and starts giving you head, precisely, just the way you like it, the way that leaves your toes curling and your voice hoarse as you scream his name. neville sucks your clit all while continuing plunging two fingers inside your pussy. "please neville, it's too much! i can't take it!" you whine loudly holding tightly onto the bedsheets.
"you can take it flower," he tells you, you can feel the vibrations of his words against your clit causing you to shiver. neville holds the back of your thick thighs and wraps his arms around them before pulling you even closer to him and returning his hands to your love handles and cunt. he feels you clench around him tightly and he spots the other telltale signs that you're about to cum. your cute noises are getting louder and you're breathing heavier, you're squirming more and squeezing your eyes hard. "let go f'me flower. you can do it." the coil that was previously winding up inside of you snaps and you hips arch up as you shake, your eyes go blurry as you cum again for the fifth time in an hour.
"good girl, good girl," he strokes your arm and kisses your hip. as you calm down and your breathing evens out he gently rubs your clit.
tears stream down your face, "no, no, no, nev please. i can't."
he kisses your hip again. "one more petal. you can give me another one right?" you whimper and nod your head before asking for a kiss.
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meemoop · 4 months
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The Birthday Boy
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Happy Birthday to this weirdo!
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rainydayathogwarts · 1 year
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neville longbottom smut
reader makes Neville cum in his pants at a party. warnings: dry humping, whimpering, public sex(?), swearing wc: around 0.9k
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Your body sways to the music, the plastic cup in your hand spilling some of your drink onto your hand, but it only blends in with the shimmering glint of sweat on your skin. You're dancing with some girl you don't recognise, singing the words to a song at the top of your lungs. You look around, trying to spot your boyfriend in the crowd, to make sure he's not doing anything he shouldn't be, only to notice him sitting on an armchair next to the fireplace, his eyes already on you.
He meets your gaze and your body suddenly goes hot, despite the warmth from the alcohol that had already settled in. He was keeping an eye on you, butterbeer in hand, not focused on anything else. You grin, pushing your way through the dance floor until you finally stumble away from the crowd of sweaty bodies and into the more dispersed area of the busy common room. You giggle when you approach Neville, watching as his eyes run along you figure. You down the rest of your drink, putting the now empty cut next to what you assumed was the empty bottle butter beer Neville had already had. "You okay sweetheart?" He asks and you nod, shifting to stand between his legs.
He sits up straight to put his hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you slightly closer to him; the most affection he'd giving you tonight. He offers you a sip of butterbeer but you decline, watching as he brings his lips to the bottle, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows, before putting the bottle aside. You bring a hand up to play with his hair as your hips start moving again, the other arm on his shoulder. You look down at the boy below you and sigh in pleasure as his hands start moving up and down your thighs.
His head leans on your lower stomach, his attention caught by the dancing bodies. You furrow your eyebrows, glancing over at the dance floor to look at all the girls in their tight dresses. You huff. The hand you have in his hair closes moderately into a fist and you tug it backwards slightly, making Neville look up at you, only to be met by your lips slamming down onto his. He moans loudly, his hands on your thighs moving so his arms can wrap around you.
His mouth immediately opens to welcome your tongue in and you put your weight onto him, pushing him back into the armchair as you climb onto him, your legs coming on either side of his thighs as you straddle him. Neville whimpers, the sound drowned by the music, his arms tightly wrapping themselves around your waist to pull you impossibly closer. And he does, dragging you across his lap so your panty-clad cunt grinds against his fully clothed dick.
You both moan into each other, and you feel your boyfriend's usually gentle hands travel down to your ass, roughly gripping it. You grind against Neville once more to see how comfortable he is with this, and he separates from the kiss to gasp for air, his mouth open in a silent moan. Your eyes scan the room, checking to see if you had attracted anyone's unwanted eyes, but your attention is brought back to Neville, who tugs your dress further down your thighs, having ridden up when you straddled him.
When you make eye contact with him again, his eyes are begging you to continue your movements and so is the tent in his pants. You push your hips down onto his and moan quietly, biting your lip. Neville's eyes widen and he looks around for a second before turning his attention back to you, a hand coming behind your neck to pull you into a kiss, the other one pushing your hips into his.
He gently humps his hips up into yours to encourage your movements, grunting as though he has never had your legs spread for him, and you dig your face into the crook of his neck, letting out a breathy moan. Your hot breath on his neck sends shivers down Neville's spine and he pants, leaning his head on your shoulder and looking down through the top of your dress. He whines, eyes widening at the sight of your tits, his hands immediately coming up to grope them. You let out a high pitched moan when he squeezes one of your perky nipple, hips bucking into his desperately, so that your pussy grinds right against the tent in his jeans, feeling the imprint of his cock against you.
Neville bites your shoulder to cover the loud whimpers that come out of him, hands gripping your thighs as he roughly bucks his hips into yours. That's when you feel the wetness on his jeans, this time not coming from you, and you grin proudly, pulling Neville into a kiss. He returns the kiss, still panting, his hands now softly caressing your sides. When you both separate from the kiss and Neville finally catches his breath, he says "How about we go upstairs and I can finish you off?"
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dufferpuffer · 7 months
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Longbottoms boggart wasn't Snape.
I mean you'd think this would be obvious enough - but people who hate Snape bring it up as their sort of trump card. "He was so bad he was a 13yr olds biggest fear!" No. He wasn't. Boggarts don't quite work like that. Boggarts are not themselves your worst fear - they make you FEEL your worst fear. Hermione isn't actually scared of McGonagall. (I'm sure alot of first years are scared of her though I mean she is strict and stern and a little scary at first.) Did she have some irrational fear of suddenly failing all her classes? Yeah, maybe a little bit - but it is BECAUSE she is scared of not being good enough. From the first book we see her struggling to fit in with her peers. She is muggleborn, she learned she was a witch so suddenly that she poured herself into being the most perfect witch she could.
Professor McGonagall, a stern and strict witch she respects, telling her she isn't good enough despite all of her best efforts makes her FEEL her worst fear. It has nothing to do with Minerva personally - honestly it could probably be replaced with Dumbledore or someone... its just she has far more interaction with Minerva.
SO - Longbottom and Snape: How do I know that Snape isn't his absolute worst fear? Because he still attends Potions every fucking week!!! Do you think RON could attend Charms if it was run by a spider?!? He can pass Snape in the hall, he can sit in the same room as Snape, he can even be teased and bullied by Snape. His parents were tortured to insanity by Death Eaters. Severus Snape is NOT his worst fear, that's stupid. Snape just makes him FEEL his worst fear - like McGonagall makes Hermione feel hers. SO what is Neville worst fear? I think the clue comes with him quickly saying that he also wouldn't want the Boggart to turn into his grandma. Inadequacy. Neville has never been good enough. He has low self worth. The tiniest bits of praise overwhelm him. He never wins any house points and losing some devastates him. He got his magic late, his family kept trying to tease it out of him, thought he was maybe a squib. He has a proud legacy to uphold and he is terrified he cannot. He is the worst potions student Snape has ever had.
Snape makes Neville feel inadequate. His grandmother makes him feel inadequate. But mix them together... and suddenly these two very scary people that seem to have such control over his life... look a little ridiculous.
DO you think Lupin is LITERALLY scared of the moon...? Or does the moon make him feel powerless and dangerous and inhumane? DO you think Harry is LITERALLY scared of Dementors...? Or is he scared of how powerless he is against the horrible way they make him feel - the trauma they bring up from the deep recesses of his mind?
Snape was not so horrific, so awful, so scary, so mean - that he as a man became Nevile's worst fear. He, like his grandma, makes him feel inadequate.
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pottersource · 6 months
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Harry Potter, the boy who lived... come to die.
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