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sadnymi · 5 months

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「 ✦ One of your girls .✦ 」

[Theodore Nott x reader]

Summary: Theodore Nott was the love of my life, the one I'd trade my whole world for. But this summer, I yearned for a different role in his life, even if it meant becoming just one of his girls

Warning:fluff,angst,smut, oral (f!received), fingering, lying about virginity,(+18)

Words:8k

In this world of labels there are , "good boys" and "bad boys," Theodore Nott existed in a category all his own. like devil in disguise, but manlier. And definitely hotter by like a thousand degrees .

As I stood there, captivated by his interaction with a Gryffindor girl, two stark realizations crashed over me. First, I desperately needed to refine my Marauder mischief skills. And More importantly, I needed to bridge the chasm between myself and Theodore. This summer, I wouldn't just be his little sister's best friend; I craved a different role in his life.

Lana's voice, sharp and cutting through my reverie, jolted me back to reality. "Y/N, are you with me?"

"Forgive me, my thoughts wandered," I muttered, composing myself with practiced neutrality.

“I was just saying, I really want Dad to approve this environmental camp," she continued, her enthusiasm undeterred.

"Absolutely," I agreed, forcing a smile. "Those Larus birds undeniably deserve all the protection we can offer." However, my gaze remained tethered to Theodore and his seemingly animated conversation with the Gryffindor girl.

"Right?" Lana beamed. "Perhaps Theo or Christian could help us sway Father?" Lana suggested hopefully.

"An excellent suggestion," I managed, a barbed comment forming on my tongue.

Perhaps your brother would engage in more productive activities than fraternizing with the Gryffindor girl. But I swallowed the retort.

"Christian can be a bit overprotective, bless his heart," Lana began, "but I do believe the 'puppy-dog eyes' technique, as he calls it, might work on Theo," Lana mused cheerfully.believe

A pang of curiosity shot through me. Could this "puppy eyes" technique be effective on Theo as well? I stifled the urge to inquire.

As if sensing my scrutiny, I almost choked on a gasp when he turned, our eyes locking for a beat too long. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, he resumed his conversation with the Gryffindor girl. My mind conjured elaborate – and disturbing – daydreams of her demise.

"Are you alright?" Lana's voice held a hint of worry.

"Perfect," I muttered, the word a lie heavy on my tongue. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of my escalating jealousy.

"Then let's proceed," she declared, taking my hand in hers.

The world became a blur as we walked, the proximity to Theo and his unwelcome companion amplifying my agitation. My pulse pounded in my ears, a relentless drumbeat against the backdrop of muted classroom sounds.

Finally, we passed them. Still, Theo's gaze lingered on me, a silent connection that sent a wave of heat through my body. Just as abruptly, , Then in a move that stole the breath from my lungs, the Gryffindor girl cupped Theodore's jaw, pulling him down for a rough, aggressive kiss. I averted my eyes, a wave of nausea washing over me.

“ EWWW “ Lana muttered, mirroring my own disgust.

“Perhaps," I ventured, my voice tight with unspoken emotions, "you should utilize those puppy dog eyes sooner before he gets distracted again “

Potions became a blurry mess of bubbling cauldrons and swirling fumes. Snape's usual scathing commentary faded into the background, as my mind replayed the scene on loop: Theo, his lips locked with the Gryffindor girl, a stranger who somehow managed to snag his attention. Her triumphant smirk as she pulled away felt branded onto my eyelids.

Jealousy gnawed at me like a rogue Flobberworm. Every stolen glance his way felt like a betrayal, a secret message only I could decipher. Was this what Lana meant by "puppy eyes"? Because right now, all I wanted to do was unleash my inner dragon and set the damn girl ablaze.

The Great Hall echoed with the boisterous chatter of lunchtime. As I joined my friends at the Slytherin table, a familiar warmth washed over me – camaraderie, yes, but something more potent simmered beneath the surface. My stolen glance at Theo, however, sent a jolt of conflicting emotions. He was already there, his dark eyes locked on mine for a lingering moment before he averted his gaze.

A playful tug on my braid brought me back to reality. Lana, a mischievous glint in her eyes, was trying to get me out of my misery that she can’t quite understand what gets me into

Mattheo, being his usual blunt self, decided to stir up some trouble, "Just want to make sure the rumors are true. Did our little Y/N break Cedric Diggory's heart?"he said, causing Theo's gaze to intensify on me, igniting a mix of excitement and nervousness within me.

"Sorry, what?" I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay, y/n, we can see that you're at that age for those kinds of things. What puberty did to you can't go unnoticed,"

My cheeks burned a furious red. The air crackled with tension as Blaise's words hung in the air.

Before I could retort, a cold fury replaced Theo's usual nonchalance. "Shut the hell up, Zabini, before I make you."

His sharp tone silenced the table. I stole a glance at him, he looked relaxed despite his tone , his eyes locked in a silent battle with Blaise. And that was well- very awkward

Matteo, unfazed by Theo's outburst, pressed on. "Back to the broken heart thing, did you really ditch a date with Diggory?"

My cheeks burned under the scrutiny of the table. "It wasn't like that, he understood," I stammered, desperately trying to salvage the situation. "I just said I had to study."

Lana, oblivious to my boiling frustration, jumped in. "No, no, she's just being humble! Cedric was head over heels! He was moping around for days after she said no, his heart practically shattered. Still he can't seem to take his eyes off her today."

I shot her a glare that could curdle milk, but she just winked back, clearly enjoying the drama.

"Why'd you turn him down, then?" Blaise pressed, his amusement evident.

Theo, however, surprised everyone. "She's still too young for that," he muttered. Really? The audacity! My hand twitched, a silent promise of violence aimed at his handsome but infuriating face.

My temper flared. "First of all," I stated, fixing him with a hard stare, "I'm only a year younger than you. Second, I said no because it wouldn't be fair to either of us. I already have feelings for someone else."

A collective gasp rippled through the group.

"You never told me that!" Lana exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise.

"No," I said, trying to project a confidence I didn't entirely feel. My gaze locked with Theo's, daring him to look away. "I was planning on telling you… tonight."

"Who is this mystery man?" Matteo leaned forward, his tone laced with curiosity. "Do we know him?"

"No, you don't," I lied smoothly, a flicker of defiance sparking in my chest. "He graduated."

A wave of disappointment washed over Blaise's face. "Oooh, Y/N, you sneaky minx! Who knew you had that in you?"

The Hogwarts Express rumbled to a halt, signaling the end of the semester and the glorious (or dreaded, depending on who you asked) freedom of summer. Bidding farewell to Lana, whose eyes held a knowing glint that made me sweat, I trudged off the train, eager to reach the familiar comfort of my own home.

Living just two houses away from Theo and Lana meant constant proximity, which could be either a blessing or a curse depending on how things unfolded. The lie about a mysterious older boyfriend sat heavy in my stomach. It was a desperate attempt to buy myself some breathing room, a chance to navigate the confusing maze of emotions swirling within me.

The oppressive heat of summer hung heavy in the air, mirroring the nervous knot in my stomach. Lana's father had finally approved the conservation camp, and while I was happy for her, a pang of disappointment shot through me. That meant less time to figure things out with Theo.

Taking a deep breath I slipped into a summer dress – the kind that hugged my curves perfectly and left a trail of cool air on my skin.

Taking a deep breath, I crossed the two houses separating our homes and knocked on Theo's door. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. What was I even doing here?

The door creaked open, revealing Mrs. Finch, the Nott family housekeeper, her face etched with surprise. "Miss Y/N? What a surprise! Mr. Theo is the only one home, I'm afraid. Miss Lana's still out."

My cheeks flushed crimson. This was not the grand entrance I'd envisioned. "Oh!" I feigned surprise. "Goodness, how forgetful of me. I just realized I left something in Lana's room. Terribly sorry to bother you, Mrs. Finch."

The housekeeper's expression softened. "No trouble at all, dear. Just head on up, third door on the right."

With a mumbled thank you, I practically sprinted up the stairs, my heart thundering in my chest. This impulsive, poorly-planned visit was already spiraling out of control. Would he see through my flimsy excuse? Most importantly, what was I going to say to him once I was alone with him under the guise of borrowing something from Lana?

The familiar chaos of Lana's room swam before my eyes. Clothes littered the floor, forgotten textbooks sat precariously on the desk,I don’t know why she insisted that no one else but her clean her room when she barley do it

"Are you lost?"

The sound of Theo's voice cut through the mental fog. I spun around, heart hammering against my ribs like a frantic hummingbird. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his gaze lingering on me a beat too long.

And then, his eyes scanned me from head to toe, a slow, deliberate sweep that sent a jolt of heat straight to my core. Merlin's beard, I wanted to be on my knees (respectfully, of course). That summer dress, the impulsive visit - everything suddenly felt like a terrible, wonderful mistake.

"N-no," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I, uh, just came to… borrow something from Lana." The lie tasted like ashes in my mouth, but I couldn't bring myself to confess my real motive. Not yet, anyway.

Theo pushed himself off the doorframe, taking a slow step closer. The air crackled with a tension that had nothing to do with the summer heat. "Is that right?" he drawled, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. His eye held an unreadable depth that made my breath hitch.

"Yes," I managed, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "She mentioned a book on… Larus migration patterns? I thought I might borrow it for some summer reading."

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "Larus migration patterns, huh? Sounds like a fascinating read for a summer day."

His words were laced with a double meaning, and a blush crept up my cheeks. Was he teasing me? Did he suspect my real reason for being here?

The silence stretched, thick and heavy. My carefully constructed plan was falling apart faster than a poorly brewed Amortentia potion. But before I could stammer out another excuse, Theo surprised me with a soft chuckle.

"Well," he drawled, his voice softer now, "since Lana's not here, perhaps I could help you find the book."

The breath caught in my throat. Here I was, caught red-handed (or rather, red-dressed), and yet, Theo's amusement was oddly disarming. His casual demeanor didn't quite match the intensity I'd glimpsed in his eyes moments ago.

"Really?" I squeaked, my voice barely above a whisper. The air crackled between us, charged with a sudden shift in energy.

A slow smirk played on his lips. "Yeah, why not? Did you want someone else to help you, maybe?"

He took a slow step forward, his presence filling the room. I instinctively leaned back, my back hitting the wall with a soft thud. A thrill shot through me as his eyes lingered on my face, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

"He's not here, though," he drawled, the amusement leaving his voice. "So bad."

Confusion clouded my mind. "He?" I stammered.

Theo's brows furrowed. "Oh, your older, hot crush? That's what you said, right? So you're here all dressed up and making excuses for nothing." The smile that had been playing on his lips vanished completely.

A wave of panic washed over me. "Are you kidding me?" I blurted out, unable to contain my frustration. Heat crept up my cheeks. "Are you that blind?" just then I realized the depth of my mistake. He thought my crush was Christopher, his own brother!

He was close now, so close I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His hands braced themselves on either side of my face, caging me in. My breath caught in my throat.

"Trapped?" he murmured, his voice a low growl.

If looks could kill, I would have been dead. Theo's expression was a mix of anger, hurt, and confusion. I reached out hesitantly, my fingers brushing against his cheek. Thankfully, he didn't pull away.

"It's not Christopher," I whispered, my eyes darted drawn to the tempting curve of his lips.

"Oh yeah?" he challenged, his voice husky.

I couldn't hold back any longer. This was it. With a surge of desperation, I cupped his face with one hand, the other finding its way to the back of his neck and I kissed him.

It was a moment of pure, unadulterated passion. I was kissing Theo it wasn’t a dream , feeling the heat and intensity of the moment wash over me. My lips on his, our breaths mingling, it was my first kiss, but that fact faded into insignificance. He was the only thing that mattered.

Panic briefly gripped me when he didn't immediately respond to the kiss. I pulled away, searching his eyes for any sign of reciprocation, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Fuck," he muttered, pulling me closer, lifting me effortlessly until my legs were wrapped around his waist. His kiss this time was harder, more urgent, our bodies pressed against the wall as he devoured my lips.

It was a hungry kiss, filled with raw desire and longing. I moaned into his mouth, unable to contain the pleasure that surged through me. As his tongue sought entry, I responded eagerly, my hand finding its way to his shoulder, the other tangling in his hair. It felt intoxicatingly good, every touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through me.

He didn't stop, his kisses growing more intense, more mind-blowing with each passing second. I felt myself teetering on the edge of something powerful, something I had never experienced before.

When he finally pulled away, our lips still touching, he whispered, "We shouldn't do that." I leaned in, wanting more, desperate to recapture the fire he had ignited within me. But this time, he stopped me with a gentle hand on my cheek.

"We shouldn't," he repeated, his words laced with a battle between desire and control.

" You ... don’t want this?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, before claiming my lips once more in a kiss that left me breathless and wanting more.

He kept kissing me, then his lips dipped lower, trailing a path of fire down my neck. Each touch ignited a new spark within me, a desperate need for more. But just as quickly, he pulled away, his hand clamping over my mouth the moment a moan escaped my lips.

He released me with a ragged breath, fingers brushing my lips – a touch that felt both accidental and deliberate. "Don't fucking let me do that again," he growled, his expression unreadable.

"Theo..." My voice trembled, a choked whisper lost in the deafening silence.

"Don't," he cut me off, his voice laced with a raw emotion that sent shivers down my spine.

I ignored him, the dam of my emotions threatening to burst. "No, Theo, I do like you so much! No, I think I love–"

He slammed his hand down on the nearest surface, the sharp crack echoing through the room. "Stop talking! Stop fucking talking and get out!"

My heart plummeted to my stomach. I stared at him, disbelief etching lines on my face. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't the answer I'd envisioned.

"I said, get out!" he roared, his voice raw with something akin to despair.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up. Fear, a primal and cold sensation, gripped me. I couldn't stay there, not with that look in his eyes. Tears blurring my vision, I turned and fled. I ran blindly out of the room, my feet pounding against the wooden floorboards. I didn't stop until I was out of the house, gasping for breath on the front porch steps. My legs felt like jelly, my vision obscured by a torrent of tears.

After four days of crying in my room, watching romcoms, and indulging in ice cream, I had practically shut myself off from the outside world. Ignoring calls and messages, I had no intention of leaving my room anytime soon.

But then, my phone started ringing, and the name that flashed on the screen caught my attention – Blaise Zabini. Why was he calling me? I debated whether to answer or not, but curiosity got the better of me.

"Hello?" I answered tentatively.

"Hello, beautiful lady. What are you doing tonight?" Blaise's smooth voice flowed through the phone, surprising me.

"Did you mistake my number for someone else?" I asked, slightly bewildered.

Blaise chuckled. "No, Y/N, I'm calling you. There's a party tonight, and you should come."

I couldn't believe it. Blaise inviting me to a party? It seemed surreal, especially considering how distant I had been lately. "Is this some kind of dare?" I half-jokingly asked, recalling how Lana and I had once begged to be included in their circle last year.

"No, of course not. Lana is away at camp, and I figured you must be bored. Plus, you're old enough now. So, are you coming?" Blaise explained.

I was shocked but managed to say, "Yes."

"Good, I'll pick you up," he said confidently.

"Um, what should I wear?" I asked, feeling a bit out of my depth.

"Something hot for sure," Blaise replied, causing my mouth to drop open. Surely, there must be more to it than just small talk and an unexpected invitation.

I dragged myself out of bed, feeling a bit more alive than I had in days. The prospect of going out, even to a party, was both daunting and oddly exciting. I made my way to the bathroom, deciding that a hot shower would do wonders for my mood.

The water cascaded down my skin, washing away some of the heaviness that had settled over me. I washed my hair, taking extra care to make it look presentable. After all, Blaise had mentioned something about looking hot, and I wanted to at least make an effort.

Once out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and stood in front of the mirror, contemplating my options. My wardrobe seemed to mock me with its array of dresses, each one a reminder of happier times. But tonight was different. I wanted to feel good, even if just for a few hours.

My eyes settled on a vibrant off-shoulder red dress, short enough to be playful yet elegant. It had been a while since I'd worn something so bold, but tonight felt like the perfect occasion. Slipping into the dress, I couldn't help but admire how it hugged my curves in all the right places.

With my hair styled in loose waves cascading down my shoulders, I turned to my makeup. Opting for a subtle smokey eye and a bold red lip to match the dress, I added a touch of highlighter to give my skin a healthy glow.

Just as I finished applying the last stroke of mascara, my phone rang again. It was Blaise, letting me know that he was waiting outside. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my purse and headed out.

A slow smirk spread across Blaise's face as he took in my entire outfit. "Damn, Y/N," he said, his voice dropping a cool octave. "You look goodness. Tonight, you're not just breaking hearts, you're shattering them."

"Thanks," I managed, trying to project an air of confidence I wasn't entirely sure I possessed.

The drive to the bar was a blur of conversation and upbeat music. Blaise gave me a heads-up that this was a different scene than the usual hangouts Lana and I frequented. No sticky floors or questionable punch here. This place oozed sophistication with a healthy dose of trendy vibes.

The closer we got, the bigger the butterflies became. "Just a heads-up," Blaise said casually, "Theo's gonna be there."

My eyes widened like headlights caught on high beams. "Why are you telling me this?" I blurted, my voice shaky.

Blaise held up his hands in mock surrender. "Whoa there, little firecracker. Easy now. Listen, I know what happened," he said, his tone gentle but firm.

He paused, his gaze meeting mine in the rearview mirror. "You've got two choices tonight," he continued, his voice low and serious. "Option one: Go in there, drown your sorrows in overpriced cocktails, and cry yourself to sleep like you have been for the past week. Option two: You walk in that door, head held high, and have the best damn night of your life. Show him what a colossal mistake he made. But more importantly, have fun. Forget Theo for the night. You deserve it."

My initial suspicion flared. How did Blaise know about Theo? Did Theo tell everyone, maybe even paint some twisted narrative of what happened? The worst-case scenario played in my head: everyone knowing I'd forced myself on him. I pushed those thoughts down, refusing to let them take root.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked, my voice laced with a hint of suspicion.

Blaise raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Oh, the nerve! Here I am, trying to be the ever-so-charming host, and you accuse me of… niceness?" He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "Honestly, Y/N, I'm deeply wounded."

I couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. It felt good, a welcome change from the constant ache in my chest. As we pulled into the bar's crowded parking lot, I spotted a familiar face – the Gryffindor girl from school, the one with a permanent case of RBF.

Suddenly, the prospect of a night out filled with new faces and zero Theo drama seemed a whole lot more appealing.

"Alright," I announced, a determined glint in my eyes. "Going inside and having fun sounds way better."

Blaise's smirk widened. "Now you're talking," he said, finally pulling the car to a stop. "Let's do this."

We pushed through the heavy bar doors, the sudden wave of loud music and flashing lights hitting me like a physical blow. My eyes squinted against the assault, struggling to adjust to the dim, pulsing atmosphere. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, spilled alcohol, and something vaguely floral that I couldn't quite identify.

Then I saw it.

Bodies. Everywhere bodies. Couples intertwined on couches, limbs tangled in a way that left little to the imagination. People grinding against each other on the dance floor, clothes barely clinging to their sweaty forms. My mouth fell open in a silent scream.

"Are you kidding me, Blaise?" I shrieked, my voice barely audible over the pounding music. "Did you invite me to an orgy ?"

Blaise chuckled, his earlier cool persona replaced by something a little more… suggestive. "Not quite, sweetheart," he drawled. "But if you're interested, I know a guy…"

Blaise winked, then turned his attention to a group of women across the room. My stomach churned. Had he brought me here just to ditch me?

"Where are you going?" I demanded, grabbing his arm before he could slink away.

He looked back at me, a sly smile playing on his lips. "You wouldn't want to know, sweetheart. Trust me." Before I could argue, he was weaving his way through the crowd, leaving me stranded in a sea of strangers.

Panic clawed at my throat. I was completely out of my element, suffocated by the throbbing music and the overt displays of affection. Trying to navigate the throng of people felt like trying to walk through a mosh pit. Elbows jabbed, drinks sloshed, and muttered curses collided with the music. Every step forward felt like a battle.

Just when I was on the verge of tears, a familiar voice cut through the din.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

I snapped my head towards the source of the sound, relief washing over me like a tidal wave. There, standing a few feet away, was Cedric Diggory, a friendly face from Hogwarts. He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

"Oh, thank God!" I exclaimed, practically throwing myself at him. He caught me with a smile, a steady presence in the swirling chaos.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out, clinging to him like a lifeline. "I came with Blaise, but… well, he kinda ditched me."

Cedric's smile faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly. "Don't worry about him," he said reassuringly. "I can take you home if you want."

The offer was tempting, a safe haven from the overwhelming sensory overload. But then my gaze fell across the crowded room, landing on Theo. He was… well, making out with someone. Not just anyone, but two someones. His hands were everywhere, his lips moving feverishly between two very enthusiastic girls.

The sight of him sent a fresh wave of anger and hurt coursing through me. I wanted to scream, to cry, to set the whole place on fire. But instead, I did something completely unexpected.

"Actually," I said, my voice surprisingly steady, "Do you want to dance?"

A slow smile spread across my face as Cedric offered his hand. Relief momentarily eclipsed the anger simmering beneath the surface. He led me onto the dance floor, his touch light and hesitant on my waist. Compared to Theo's rough possessiveness, it felt… foreign.

"Theodora Nott," I muttered under my breath, the name a bitter curse on my tongue. Every fiber of my being ached to tear my gaze away from Theo.

Cedric's breath tickled my ear as he spoke, but my mind was elsewhere. Then, our eyes met. Theo's. His face contorted in a mixture of surprise and disbelief, like he'd seen a ghost.

Theo seemed momentarily speechless, his jaw clenched tight. Then, in a move that surprised even me, he shoved the two girls aside, their confused faces momentarily forgotten. He barged his way through the crowd, a determined scowl on his face.

"Diggory," he spat, his voice laced with venom.

"Nott," Cedric replied, a flicker of confusion crossing his features.

"Think I can take this from here?" Theo said, his gaze never leaving mine. "Thanks for keeping Y/N company."

Cedric glanced between us, a hesitant frown creasing his brow. Knowing I needed to act fast, I plastered a sickly sweet smile on my face.

"It's alright, Cedric," I chirped, my voice dripping with fake sincerity. "Theo's here now, and you know, practically like a brother to me."

Theo's jaw clenched tight, his anger barely contained. It fueled a fire within me, a perverse satisfaction at seeing him squirm. Cedric, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, simply nodded and melted back into the crowd.

As soon as he was out of sight, I reached out and lightly touched Theo's arm. "Hello, brother," I purred, the word laced with mockery. "Enjoying yourself?"

He swatted my hand away, his voice tight with irritation. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"Dancing, drinking, you know ," I replied, my voice light and carefree. "Hopefully getting some… you know, without having to share." I couldn't resist adding a pointed jab at his earlier display of affection.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "That's not the right answer, Y/N."

"Oh, so now you're the authority on what's right and wrong?" I scoffed. "Just get lost and let me enjoy my night."

"Not happening," he growled, stepping closer. For a fleeting moment, I swear his eyes flickered to my lips, sending a tremor of something unexpected through me.

"Not happening," he countered, his eyes flickering towards my lips for a fleeting moment.

A shiver ran down my spine, but I refused to let it show. "So you get to have fun, but I can't? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you were having a blast with your little… (here I paused, searching for the perfect comedic insult) …buffet." I forced a smile, pushing myself away from him in a playful, yet firm, manner.

He didn't get a chance to retort before a gasp escaped my lips. A clumsy dancer, fueled by who-knows-what concoction, careened into me, spilling the entirety of his drink down my dress. The scarlet fabric clung to my body like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination.

Theo let out a frustrated curse under his breath. "Damn it, Y/N, and your damn stubborn red dresses ," he muttered, before grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the crowd. His gaze darted around frantically, before settling on a nearby staircase.

The world spun a little faster as Theo pulled me through the crowd, his grip tight on my arm. We navigated through bodies and flashing lights, finally ending up near a darkened stairway leading upwards. He pushed open a door, revealing a large, beautifully furnished room – a stark contrast to the party raging outside.

"Stay here," he instructed, his voice low and urgent.

I rolled my eyes, annoyed at his bossiness but strangely comforted by his protectiveness.My mind was still reeling from the sudden alcohol shower, my thoughts fuzzy and disconnected.

Theo's presence alone was overwhelming. All the anger, hurt, and confusion I'd been feeling seemed to coalesce into a potent cocktail of emotions. My mind, however, wasn't processing things clearly. The red dress clinging to my body, the sting of Theo's earlier words, the memory of seeing him with those girls – it all swirled together in a chaotic mess.

Ignoring the instruction to stay put, I crossed the room and locked the door with a satisfying click. Grasping the hem of the ruined dress, I ripped it upwards in one swift motion. There, standing before a giant mirror, was me in all my red lace glory – bra and panties matching the ruined dress.

Theo stepped in, a black t-shirt clutched in his hand. His gaze locked with mine, a slow burn spreading across his face. He scanned me from head to toe, his eyes lingering on the shocking red lace bra and matching panties that were now my only attire.

For a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the music fading into a distant hum. The air crackled with a tension that sent a jolt of electricity through me.

"You're drunk, aren't you?" he finally managed, his voice rough with a mix of concern and something else – something deeper.

The question snapped me out of my haze. A defiant chuckle escaped my lips. "Not a single Shot," I replied, my voice surprisingly steady as I walked towards him.

The t-shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten. His eyes were fixed on me, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. I stopped just inches from him, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, his face just inches from mine. The heat of his body radiated against mine, intensifying the buzz in my head.

"We don't have to be in love," I slurred, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. A part of me knew this was insane, But another part just craved his attention, his touch.

All I craved was his attention, his touch.

"I just wanna be… one of your girls tonight," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. A shiver ran down my spine as the reality of my words hit me. Was I really saying this? But then I remembered Theo with those other girls, the way they would whisper about him at school, the way they boasted about their "experiences" with him.

Suddenly, a strange sense of defiance mixed with a simmering desire fueled my next words. "I want what you give them," I confessed, my eyes locked on his. "The kind of thing they brag about to their friends for years."

He reached out, a single finger brushing against my cheek. My breath hitched at the contact.

"Give me tough love don’t hold back," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Push me, choke me. Show me what it's like to be… yours even if it’s just for a night ." My voice dropped even lower. "Anything," I whispered, "just don't pretend you don't want me."

My words hung heavy in the air, the audacity of them making my cheeks burn. But before I could even think about backtracking, Theo surged forward, scooping me up into his arms. A gasp escaped my lips as he pulled me close, the familiar scent of his cologne washing over me.

He lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist as he pulled me close. My hands instinctively found purchase on his broad shoulders, the heat radiating through his shirt setting my skin alight.

"That's wrong," he rasped, his lips brushing dangerously close to mine.

"It's not," I insisted, the defiance laced with a desperate plea.

He didn't answer. Instead, he kissed me. It was a hard kiss, desperate and hungry, as if he was trying to erase everything that had come between us. My body melted against his, all thoughts fleeing my mind except for the fierce press of his lips against mine.

He carried me across the room, depositing me onto a large table. pulled away after what felt like an eternity, his eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a tremor through me. He pushed a stray strand of hair from my face, his eyes searching mine. "I'd hold onto something, if I were you." he murmured, his voice thick with possessiveness that both terrified and excited me.

My fingers brushed against his face, his warm breath ghosting over my lips as he leaned down.

His hand moved down my body, a slow, deliberate caress that sent shivers erupting across my skin. His fingers grazed my thighs, a light touch that somehow managed to ignite a fire within me. My breath hitched, a moan escaping my lips as desire battled with the remnants of reason.

His lips brushed against my ear, his voice a husky whisper against my sensitive skin. "Choose a word," he murmured, his breath sending shivers down my spine.

I nodded numbly, unsure if I would even be able to speak if I needed to.

"Red," I managed to whisper, my voice laced with desire as his lips trailed along my neck, eliciting a soft moan from deep within me.

"Fucking red again," he muttered, his lips pressing against my skin with a hunger that ignited a fire within me. I arched my neck, offering him more access, more of me.

"You use this if it gets too much, understood?" he said, his voice commanding. I nodded eagerly.

He continued to kiss my jaw and neck with an intensity that left me breathless. My hand tangled in his hair, urging him closer. When he bit down on a sensitive spot on my neck, I couldn't contain a scream of pleasure.

His hand cupped my core through my panties, and I instinctively gripped his shoulder, my body responding to his touch. I had never experienced anything like this before, but I couldn't admit that to him.

"Have you done anything like this before?" he asked, his breath hot against my earlobe. I moaned softly as I lied, nodding in response.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rush of sensations.

He parted my legs forcefully and held my jaw in his hand, locking eyes with mine. "You did?" he questioned, a hint of possessiveness in his tone.

I nodded again, unable to speak as desire coursed through me.

"He's dead, whoever he is," he declared, sending a shiver down my spine. His fingers slipped inside my panties, and I gasped at the sudden intimacy, my body responding eagerly to his touch.

"Theo," I managed to gasp out, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Yes, baby?" he responds, his voice deep and husky. The way he says "baby" sends shivers down my spine. It feels too good, too right, felt like a sweet caress to my soul.

"You can do whatever you want to me," i whispered, my fingers tracing his jawline. "Anything."

He responds by parting my lips with his finger leaning down to take my lower lips into his kiss. It's so soft, so gentle, that I feel like I've been transported to heaven. His tongue enters my mouth at the same time he touches my clit, and I moan.

He rubs my clit in gentle circles, and I hold onto his shoulder, digging my nails into his skin. He pulls away from the kiss, my lips are still on his, and I moan into his mouth. His tongue continues to explore mine as his fingers work their magic.

"Oh Merlin," I cry out, and he smiles against my cheek.

"Not Merlin, baby, but me," he whispered against my cheek, his touch sending me spiraling further into ecstasy. He added a finger inside me, and I cried out, my back arching with pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so tight. You sure you've done this before?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. I've done this before, in my dreams, with him. I bite my lip to keep from moaning too loudly, and he looks displeased with that.

"Keep making those sounds, I love the sound of your voice," he says, and I do it again. He stops kissing me” you did that again and i stop, understood? “ I nodded immediately.

He’s not done yet. He pushed my bra strap down, placing kisses along the exposed skin.

His fingers start to move faster, as he kissed me, swallowing all my moans. He adds another finger, and I scream, my back arching again.

I bite my lips without even noticing and he slowed his movements I hold onto his hand fast, afraid he'll stop.

"Please don't stop, I'll be good, I promise," I beg, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Fuck, say it again," his gaze intense with desire.

"I'll be good, Theo," I repeated, my voice a desperate plea.

He moves his fingers faster in response, hitting a spot inside me that makes me see stars. He keeps hitting it, over and over again, while circling my clit.

"I'm going to--" I try to say, but I can't finish my sentence. Pleasure consumes me, and I scream his name. He plays with my hair, pushing my tears and hair away from my face.

"I know, sweet girl," he murmured, his words pushing me over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm."So sweet, so good."

He watched me with intense desire as I came, his fingers never ceasing their movements. "And so fucking hot," he added as he looked at me while experiencing his own release.

“you look so pretty when you’re cumming for me,” he murmured, placing soft kisses on my neck

I breathed heavily as he pulled his hands from me, bringing his fingers to his mouth and savoring my cum. "You taste so sweet, baby," he murmured, his gaze locked on mine.

He cupped my face, placing soft kisses on my lips, again and again. "So sweet, so angelic,"

With a gentle touch, he lifted me from the table, carrying me softly and placing me on the bed. His face was close to mine, his nose brushing against mine, and he kissed me deeply. I moaned as he opened my bra clips, leaning down to place a soft kiss on my jawline, then my collarbone.

He traced his way down, kissing every inch of my body until he reached my breasts. I closed my eyes as he put a soft kiss on them, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Eyes on me, baby. Don't shut them," he commanded, and I nodded, my breath heavy. I looked at him, my love for him overwhelming.

With each lick and kiss, I moaned louder, the pleasure building with every touch, and I arched my back, my fingers gripping the sheets.

With a final lick, he traced his way down, kissing every inch of my body. He kissed my stomach and looked up at me, his gaze intense.

He parted my legs, the sight of him between them is my idea of heaven. I nodded, and he pulled my panties down.

As he pulled my panties down, I felt a rush of shyness,"You will keep them open," he said, and I nodded again , my breath hitching.

"Good girl," he praised, his lips trailing kisses along my thighs. I couldn't resist running my fingers through his soft hair, pushing it from his face.

"You want rough love, you say?" he stated, using my own words against me.

"Yes," I moaned, my mouth gasping as I felt his mouth on my wet pussy.

"And you keep listening to what those girls say?" he asked.

"Yes, and it hurts," I managed to say.

"So I have to make up for it then, baby, don't you think?" he asked,

He didn't waste time. His tongue explored my folds, and it felt strange but in a good way. He licked and sucked, and I felt like I might explode.

He kept doing it, for what felt like an eternity. He kept my legs open, and my back ached. I cried heavily, it was the best thing I had ever felt. I could feel my body already over the edge.

"Don't cum," he said, and I shook my head. He continued eating me out, so much. I could feel his fingers inside me, and I screamed again.

"Please," I begged, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure he was giving me.

"You cum, and it's over," he warned, his finger entering me gently.

I held onto his shoulder tightly, my body teetering on the edge. "Say the word, and I'll stop," he offered.

But I couldn't bring myself to say it. "No," I managed to whisper, my voice filled with need and desire.

His tongue flicked my clit, and I felt my orgasm building. I screamed his name, and he kept going, pushing me further and further over the edge. I screamed again, and again, and again. I couldn't take it anymore, and I came hard, my body shaking with the force of it.

He looked up at me, his lips glistening with my juices.

I was still trying to catch my breath from what just happened as Theo's words registered in my mind. "You are a virgin," he said, and I shook my head fast, trying to dispel the shock.

"No, no, I'm not. The boys I've been with before weren't experienced," I managed to say, feeling a rush of embarrassment at my slip of words. Why did I say "boys"?

Theo's gaze held fire as he processed my words. "Boys?" he repeated, his voice tinged with something I couldn't quite decipher.

I immediately felt the need to defend myself. "You don't think I'm attractive enough to be with more than one boy in my life?" I asked, a hint of defiance in my tone.

"Quite the opposite," he assured me, but his expression remained serious. "I want to know who dared and did that," he added, his eyes searching mine.

I bit my lip nervously, realizing the implications of what I had unintentionally revealed. Boys were afraid to pursue Lana because of Theo's reputation, but the way he reacted made me wonder if he wasn't threatening the boys for just getting close to lana .

"You can't just control who I can be with, Theo," I said, surprised at my own boldness.

"I think I can," he asserted firmly.

I took a breath, trying to calm the tension that crackled between us. "I won't mind," I said softly, my voice pleading. "I would do anything to please you. I would do anything you ask me to."

"Stop talking like that, y/n," he ordered, his tone strained.

"Okay," I acquiesced, sensing that I had crossed a line.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, clearly struggling with his own emotions.

I reached out and touched his hand that was on my face, trying to ease the tension. I smiled while kissing his hand, then surprised both of us by putting one of his fingers inside my mouth and sucking on it gently.

"You are going to be the death of me," he muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I need you, Theo, all of you, even just for the night, please," I pleaded, desperate for him to understand.

"Don't cry, unless it's from the pleasure I give you," he said, brushing away my tears gently.

I propped myself up on my elbow to get closer to him, craving his touch and his reassurance. He kissed me again, and in that moment, I felt like I could live in this bliss forever.

He reached for a condom, and I tried not to show my nerves as he prepared himself. His size was daunting, and I couldn't help but wonder how it would fit inside me. My head hit the pillow again as he spread my legs, his hardness teasing my entrance.

He entered me slowly, and I cried out as the pain shot through me, tears streaming down my face. "You are a fucking virgin," he exclaimed, his own frustration evident.

"It's not a fucking game, y/n," he continued, his tone softer but still edged with tension.

"I'm sorry, please do something," I pleaded, feeling overwhelmed.

He wiped my tears away, his features softening. "Fuck, baby, don't cry. It will get better, I promise. Just relax," he reassured me, his voice soothing.

"Breathe, it's just me," he added, placing kisses on my forehead and then my cheek.

"I think... I think you can move now, please," I managed to say, trying to regain my composure.

He held my face in his hand while the other supported him as he moved slowly, allowing me to adjust to him. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure and the connection between us.

"You want fast, I can take it," I said, unsure if I was ready but wanting to prove myself to him.

"It's not a competition, y/n. You don't have to prove anything, baby,"

"The girls you've been with, they must have..." I started to say, but he cut me off.

"They didn't matter. You do," he said, surprising both of us with his confession.

He settled into a rhythm that felt perfect, and I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensations. His thrusts ranged from slow and tender to fast and intense, driving me wild with pleasure.

"Talk to me," he urged, and I struggled to form coherent sentences amidst the pleasure.

"It feels... good," I managed to say, my words coming out in fragmented breaths.

"Yeah?" he questioned, and I nodded, unable to articulate just how amazing it felt.

He increased his pace, and I arched my back, meeting his movements eagerly. "What about this?" he asked, his touch sending waves of pleasure through me.

"Do it again," I begged, wanting more of him, more of this intense pleasure.

He obliged, and the pleasure intensified, pushing me closer to the edge of ecstasy. I moaned and cried out his name, lost in the sensations that only he could evoke.

He thrust a few more times, then finally reached his own peak, his body collapsing slightly against mine as we both caught our breaths.

After a moment, he pulled out and disposed of the condom, then lay beside me.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I was afraid to talk afraid to ruin what we just had, My hand hovered in the air, reaching for his face, but Theo stopped me, his grip surprisingly tight on my wrist.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo against the backdrop of my racing thoughts. Please, no. Not the cold shoulder again.

" The- Theo," I whispered, my voice trembling, but he pushed my hand away before I could say more. His sudden change left me feeling lost and vulnerable, like I had done something terribly wrong.

"You… sore?" he finally spoke, his voice strained.

I blinked, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. The Theo who had been making love to me just minutes ago seemed to have vanished. This was the cold, distant Theo I knew all too well.

"A little," I managed to whisper, my voice cracking.

"Then get dressed," he said curtly. "I'm taking you home. Your big night is over." his words cutting through me like knives. I tried to speak, to explain, but he silenced me with a stern command. "Not a word, y/n. Not a fucking word."

He got out of bed and started putting on his clothes, tossing a t-shirt and his jacket in my direction. As he grabbed my phone and things, I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. It was as if everything we had shared meant nothing to him.

As shaky legs carried me to my feet, I pulled on the clothes, tears blurring my vision. A choked sob escaped my lips, and another, and another.

"Congratulations, Y/N," I whispered to myself, my voice raw with emotion. "You're officially one of his girls."

"Congratulations, y/n. You’re officially one of the girls," he remarked, his words cutting deep into my already wounded heart.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Part2

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #theodorenottsmut #theodore nott #fluff imagines #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott masterlist #theodore nott smut #theo nott

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siriuslovebot · 1 year

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˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ➸ 𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: slytherin!reader x sirius enemies to lovers possibly? thanks love!!

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: smut (18+, minors dni!), enemies to lovers, mean/condescending sirius, lots of teasing and arguing, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, petnames (doll, pet), explicit sex scenes, etc.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: the reader and sirius are always at odds. after earning a detention, they decide to sneak to the kitchens at night and get sidetracked.

𝑨/𝑵: ugh i'm such a slut for enemies to lovers with sirius eeeeek. i had had had to write this! btw sorry for going mia for a few days; work has been exhausting me :( i'm gonna work on some requests tomorrow since i'm off and hopefully that can hold you all over until i have more time. also, to clarify, my smut posts are for 18+ audiences only! i will be blocking minors who interact with my smut posts. as always, this is unedited, so sorry for any errors/typos! hope you enjoy!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 4.7k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

“you bloody prat!” the foul words leave your mouth before you have a chance to stop them, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. immediately, your gaze finds the figure of professor slughorn at the head of the classroom. his eyes are wide, set in a surprised expression as he looks over you.

“miss y/n,” he says, in a rather mild voice for his looming presence.

you flush, skin burning. the entirety of the class watches you, fists clenched around a handful of wormwood as it crumbles. beside you, there’s a self-satisfied smirk on sirius black’s face. he’s got a smear of flobberworm mucous over his sleeve, where he’s just emptied his entire container into your cauldron, effectively rendering your sleeping draught entirely useless.

“i’m sorry, professor,” you say. in an effort to placate him, you glance at sirius and sigh in exasperation. “sirius just– bumped into me, and knocked all of this flobberworm mucous into my cauldron. promise it won’t happen again.” you cut your eyes at the elder black brother, his expression slightly bemused at your sudden change of tone. there’s no need snitching to professor slughorn; you’ll get sirius back, and it’ll be far worse than any detention with the head of your house.

“very well,” says professor slughorn. he’s taken your bait, and you’re glad for it. “mr. black, i’m sure you won’t mind miss y/n assisting you, since her potion is now–” he peers over your shoulder, having lumbered over to your table. his lips curl up into a grimace “--ruined, yes, quite awfully. sharing is caring, after all.”

sirius grunts as professor slughorn slaps him on the back like an old chum. your features curl up into a sneer, your eyes glowing with retribution. sirius huffs a quiet, “yes, professor.”

he glares at your shit-eating grin as you settle yourself beside him. his own potion doesn’t look much better than yours; he’s clearly been focused on making your life a living hell rather than on his potion-making, and it shows. “this looks shit,” you say, making a face at him.

“‘course it does,” he says, sourly, “dumped all my flobber mucous into your potion, didn’t i?”

“serves you right, you dirty, conniving little–”

sirius cuts you off with a snort, “ugh, y/n, if you want to fuck me so badly just say that.” his sarcastic words send a jolt through you, your stomach bubbling with rage.

“in your dreams, sirius,” you spit, knocking your shoulder into his with enough force to make his stool wobble. professor slughorn is none the wiser, gloating over lily evans’s potion across the room.

sirius grumbles under his breath, tapping his wand mindlessly against the cauldron in any effort to help his quickly deteriorating potion. after a moment he says, “help me out here, will you? it’s your bloody potion, too.”

“i’d rather die,” you say dramatically, lifting your chin haughtily as you distract yourself by scratching a star into the tabletop with your fingernail. the fury radiating off of him is enough to satisfy you for now; he’s swearing under his breath, dumping odds and ends into the cauldron in a futile attempt to save his mark for the day. you prod the inside of your cheek with your tongue, trying not to smile at his frustration. karma, karma, karma. you can only hope he’ll have to endure extra credit hours in slughorn’s office, listening to all the stories of his talented old students. you couldn’t imagine a more boring saturday night.

“stupid, fuckin’ thing, what am i doing wrong?” sirius says quietly, startling you with a particularly hard thump of his wand against the cauldron. you glance inside, the mixture having congealed into something nasty and grey. you wrinkle your nose.

“everything, by the looks of it,” you say. you answer his tight-lipped expression with a sickeningly sweet smile and a bat of your eyelashes. you’re sure he’s starting to rethink his choice to ruin your potion this morning.

“shut up,” he hisses, a particularly foul emphasis on the words. if looks could kill, the daggers he stares into you would be piercing straight through your heart. you almost want to goad him even further, provoke him into a reaction that will be enough to get him in trouble with dumbledore himself, but you know better. you’re very good at playing the long game.

thus begins your blood-thirsty rivalry with sirius black. of course, neither of you were particularly fond of the other in the first place; you supposed it was his hatred of slytherins. he approached you as if you were some scum-of-the-earth, less-than-human creature, solely because of the house you were placed in. funny coming from someone whose little brother shared the same house. from your first interaction, you decided you could be exactly who he envisioned you to be, and you made it your mission to do so.

at first, the incidents are easily passed off as “accidental.” sirius charming your quills to pelt you in the head, aiming for your eyes. you muttering a particularly difficult to reverse rendition of, “engorgio skullus,” that put him in the hospital wing for a week whilst madam pomfrey tried to shrink his head back to its regular size (though, in your opinion, it wasn’t much bigger than normal.) you began to map your paths through the corridors, purposely avoiding the places in which you knew sirius would be present. he grew very fond of casting non-verbal tripping jinxes, sending you and all of your belongings sprawling through the halls. similarly, when you found him pestering remus in the library, you were quick to employ the oppugno jinx, sending a spattering of books barreling towards him.

you earned a detention from madam pince for that one, but it was well-worth it when you saw sirius’s battered appearance the next morning. the antics go on and on, until you’re both at odds to the point where the entire school is invested in who’s going to one-up the other depending on the day. you hear james and remus making bets on it as you pass the gryffindors on your way to herbology one day; you can’t help but smirk as remus bets on you. you always knew he was a smart man.

after a horribly timed jelly-legs jinx from sirius, you wobble into the slytherin common room to get ready for bed. your muscles ache, as your legs collapsed beneath you just as you were at the top of a staircase. toppling down the stones, you were too busy screeching in anger to notice the almost worried look on sirius’s face at his handiwork. he’d even bounded down the stairs, muttering a half apology before you hissed, “flipendo,” and sent him crumbling into the staircase himself. as you passed his crumpled frame, groaning in pain, you were pleased to see a sheepish james handing over another galleon to remus.

you wince as you finally make it down the passage, stopping for a second to rest your burning limbs. regulus reclines on one of the sofas, feet kicked up as he flicks through an old book. his eyes find yours briefly, flashing with mirth.

“what are you looking at?” you breathe, putting pressure on an especially sore rib. a sharp pain causes you to frown, doubling over for a second.

“y’look like hell,” says regulus.

you roll your eyes. “you know what–” you take a sharp breath at another pain. “--i get enough shit from your git of a brother. don’t you start on me, too.” you point a finger at him, wagging it.

he laughs, dropping the newspaper onto his stomach. he clasps his hands over it, cocking his head as he eyes you carefully. there’s a wicked little grin on his chiseled, handsome face. his intelligent eyes scheme for a moment, thoughts crossing through them to the point where you can practically see the gears turning.

“what?” you repeat, impatient with his conspicuous contemplation. he’s clearly dying to speak his mind, and you’re sure you won’t make it another two minutes standing in the common room before your legs give out completely. you’re dying to get into bed.

“i was just thinking,” regulus contemplates, smug as he leans up on his elbows.

“didn’t know you could manage that,” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. if nothing else, regulus is as dramatic, if not more, than his brother.

he wrinkles his nose.

“go on,” you urge. “i’m dying to know what you’re thinking, reg.”

he smiles, the curve of his lips meant to be placating in spite of his words. “how long are you and sirius going to play cat-and-mouse before you give up the act and admit you want each other?”

“i hope you’re joking,” you say flippantly. you turn immediately from his lazing figure, marching towards the girls’ dorms.

“deny it all you want,” he calls from behind you. “everyone knows!”

you find your dorm, luckily empty, and slam the door behind you. your neck and ears burn, as you suddenly feel quite embarrassed. there’s no way sirius likes you, and you certainly don’t have any feelings for him; other than hate, annoyance, and frustration, that is. yes, you’d like to throttle the eldest of the black brothers, and you’re sure you would get a great deal of pleasure from it. but want, lust, affection? regulus has officially lost his mind.

you seethe as you get ready for bed, a dozen reminders of sirius as you ache all over with each movement. hate certainly brews a certain sort of passion within a person, but you’d march into the forbidden forest wandless, robeless, and blindfolded before you had a single warm thought for sirius black.

you’re still fuming as you nestle yourself beneath the duvet. and as awful as it is to admit, your last thought before you sink into slumber is of that stupidly handsome, haughty face that you think you hate so much.

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

“not like that, you dumb–”

“please, sirius!” you retort, frustrated with the dark-haired young man sitting beside you. he’s genuinely dancing on your last good nerve, offering a snarky comment for your every movement today. “just shut up.”

somehow, you’ve been sat beside him in transfiguration. professor mcgonagall had the ever-so-lovely idea to come up with a new seating chart, placing you and sirius at a table together. you’re moments away from throttling him and being sent to azkaban for murder.

“i’m trying to help you, here,” he says, shrugging. “do it wrong, then, if y’want. i couldn’t care less.”

“oh, you’re so good at it, are you?” you stare at him, a sour look on your face. today’s lesson was supposed to be easy (according to professor mcgonagall), and you were having an impossibly hard time as it was one of your first lessons on human transfiguration. you had yet to be successful in any of the other human transfiguration lessons, either. sirius’s nagging presence wasn’t doing anything to help.

“seeing as i’ve been doing it for the last half an hour, i would think so.”

“well, show me, then, you bloody genius,” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest. you blink at him, waiting for his enormous display of intelligence.

“so easy,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “i mean, ‘s not like you’re turning yourself into a bleeding dragon or something…”

“i’m just growing my hair by magic,” you say, hot under the collar with frustration. “not everyone’s mr. perfect like you.”

sirius rolls his eyes. you watch him for another second, trying not to look impressed as he does exactly that. his dark hair grows longer before your eyes, sweeping down over his collarbones and skirting just above his elbows.

“okay, show-off,” you mutter, turning away with a frown on your face. “an inch is the requirement.”

he chuckles, smug. “‘s all right,” he says, reaching to tug on a strand of your hair, rather harshly. you gasp at the sting, swatting his hand away with a blush on your face. you shift uncomfortably in your seat. “maybe we can do it manually.” he pulls on another strand over your hand.

“sirius,” you whine, grasping his wrist to stop him. your heart thumps wildly at the look on his face, a pleased smile on his lips. he’s apparently enjoying teasing you. maybe a little too much. “that hurts.”

“aw,” he says, his voice mocking as he feigns pity. “poor baby. hurts, does it?” the condescending tone in his voice has a pit growing in your stomach, your heart sinking into it by the second. he dodges your grasp. there’s another pull on your hair. he raises his eyebrows at the whimper that comes from your lips as you shove him.

“can– can you— stop it, you shit,” there’s a flash of hands as you and sirius battle it out, him reaching over to pester you some more as you block him as best as you can. truthfully, you’re embarrassed that him teasing you is stirring your insides, exciting you in a way that is very wrong. plus, you refuse to let regulus be right. you’d rather have a slap-fight with sirius in the middle of class then let him make you crumble at his taunting actions.

you wince as he jerks your hair again, this time hard enough to make tears prick your eyes. you respond with a sharp SMACK against his forearm, which rings through the room not unlike a gunshot. there’s a split second of complete silence, as mcgonagall is comprehending your misbehaviors.

“miss y/n, mr. black,” she says, voice strict. “ten points from gryffindor, and slytherin. see me after class.” she peers at the two of you over her spectacles, meaning business. you sink into your seat, chastised. sirius nods, pressing his lips together as he settles back into his own place.

“nice one, dumbass,” he says quietly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“i told you to stop a dozen times.”

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

“bleeding candelabras... my fingers are going to fall off,” you complain. it’s well past midnight, filch having finally decided that you and sirius had sufficiently completed your detention. after a miserable few hours, crouched in his office polishing the silver, the two of you are finally free to go.

“tell me about it,” sirius yawns, shaking his head. “don’t think m’hands will ever be the same.” he holds his palms out in front of him, wrinkling his nose at the cracked skin.

“gross,” you peer at his dry hands. “it’s those muggle chemicals he insists on using. much safer to use magic if you ask me.”

sirius chuckles, “poor guy wants us all to know how hard it is to be a suffering squib.”

you laugh despite yourself, then shake your head. “i hope mcgonagall’s not expecting us to go back tomorrow night. don’t think i can miss dinner again.” you clutch at your stomach. “‘m starving.”

“let’s sneak into the kitchens,” sirius suggests.

you look at him as if his head’s fallen off his shoulders. “are you out of your mind?”

“oh, c’mon. james and i have done it plenty of times. the house elves aren’t going to tell anyone.”

“we’re in enough trouble as it is, sirius,” you say firmly.

“suit yourself,” he stretches his arms over his head, turning on his heel. you watch him pad down the hall, his shirt lifted slightly to reveal his lower back as he stretches. you swallow hard, averting your eyes as your hands go a bit clammy. he rolls his neck side-to-side as he lowers his arms.

you think about it for a second, then you call, “wait–wait for me.” it takes more than a few strides for you to catch up, and then you’re slinking downstairs with him, headed for the kitchens. a midnight snack couldn’t hurt anyone, right?

“knew you couldn’t resist,” he says, voice teasing.

you roll your eyes.

there’s a certain thrill to stalking the castle’s corridors at night. you’re not sure if it's the adrenaline or the repeated image of sirius’s bare skin burned into your mind that has your pulse hammering endlessly. a giddiness employs itself in your stomach, churning as you follow him on the familiar path down to the kitchens; it’s clear that he’s been out after hours plenty of times. he knows the place like the back of his hand, barely batting an eye as he leads you through the corridors.

“are you sure we won’t be caught?” you whisper, voice hardly audible through the sound of your own heart.

“we’ll be fine,” sirius says, confident. “don’t you trust me?” he quirks a slender eyebrow at you. his grey eyes have a dark cast in the low light, only the shine of a few candles illuminating his features. you shrug, your mouth dry as he grins at you.

“i–i mean, sure,” you say, half-hearted. his laugh is low, gravelly. accompanied with his tired voice, it’s enough to make you swoon.

“right, then,” he says, “we’re nearly there.”

you’re close to your destination when sirius stops in his tracks. you nearly trip over him, grasping his arm for balance as he stops, listening.

“what?” you tug at his sleeve. “what is it?”

“shut up,” he mutters, seeming much more like his normal self. “someone’s coming.” his eyes scan the corridor ahead of you, then he spins around, shoving you towards a door a few feet away.

“what–where are we?”

he’s shoving you into a dark room, pulling the door closed very gently behind him. a heavy-sounding lock clicks into place. you push past him, hands finding the door as you place your ear against the heavy wood. you hold your breath as you listen for footsteps outside the door.

the room is very small; your feet shuffle to find somewhere to stand, through piles of junk on the floor. sirius does the same, crowding in behind you to listen along at the door. you try to ignore the heat in your stomach as he presses his body against your back in the small space. it’s the only way he can eavesdrop at the door alongside you. at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

you’re both dead quiet, your hands shaking as you listen. the footsteps echo closer and closer, and stop. you bite down on your lip, trying to pay attention. however, sirius’s lithe frame pressed against you is proving to be a great distraction. you feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes calmly. he’s pressed against you, solid and unmoving. the heat radiating from his body is lighting your skin on fire; sweat prickles your skin.

“scared?” he whispers, voice barely perceptible.

“no,” you lie. you hope he doesn’t know the true root of your fear; the sinking possibility that he could find out just how much you’re enjoying this. how much you’ve been dying to be this close to him for the last few weeks.

“liar,” he mutters. he’s still listening. “it’s mcgonagall out there,” he says.

“how can you tell?” you ask. the darkness has heightened your other senses, but you’re not as observant nor perceptive as he is. at least not with him pushing you against the wall like this.

“dunno, the cadence of her footsteps or something. remus can probably explain it better than i can. i just know.”

“you just know,” you say simply.

“mhmm,” he hums in agreement. “i just know a lot of things.”

“like what?”

there’s a second of loaded, thick silence. the air is thick enough that you swear you can feel it wrapping around you, suffocating you.

“like how much you’re enjoying this.”

“what?!” your voice is more of a hiss than a whisper, and he shushes you gently.

“careful, pet,” he says, “want mcgonagall to find us like this?”

“we’re not doing anything,” you say, embarrassed.

he chuckles darkly. “not yet.”

sirius presses closer to you, his body pinning yours against the door. a gasp escapes you, your mouth hanging open as his hand finds your chin, lifting your face towards his. “such a pretty noise, doll,” he says. you can hardly see him, but you can imagine the look on his face from his tone. his eyes dark, lips quirked in a pleased expression, eyelids hooded.

“sirius,” you say, though it sounds more pleading than you intended.

“gonna start begging for me already?” there’s that laugh again, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core.

you’re burning up, embarrassed that you’re so needy already. you shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you are, enjoying your least-favorite person pinning you against the wall in an old supply closet. not to mention your professor stalking the hall just outside the door. your head spins.

“shut up,” you mumble, though you don’t mean it. you squirm, taking a breath as you feel his length pressed against you from behind. he sucks air in through clenched teeth at the feeling. his face dips down to meet yours, his lips catching yours in an open-mouthed kiss. he licks into your mouth, your tongues uniting messily in the middle. there’s a clash of teeth, a grunted noise from him, and strings of saliva as he pulls away for breath before he’s diving back in. you relish in the obscene sensation, the messiest, wettest kiss you’ve ever been privy to. you’re enjoying every second of it, however naughty it may be.

your stomach flutters, enjoying the sharp dig of his other hand gripping your hip. another soft noise from you, into his mouth. he groans, his long fingers still holding your face in place. he pulls away, lips swollen and chin coated with saliva. he trails wet kisses down your jawline, biting at the tender skin of your neck. you rock back against him, your core throbbing as he muffles a low noise in the back of his throat.

“fuck,” he slurs, breathing heavily already. “you don’t know how bad i want to fuck that smart fucking mouth…” he whispers, his breath hot on the shell of your ear. “shut you up for once…”

you’re throbbing at his words, aching so bad that you’d get on your knees and beg him just to touch you. you’d do it yourself, even, if only he’d talk you through it. but sirius has other plans, clearly as desperate as you are.

“please,” the soft croak of your voice has him grinning at you. you can faintly see the outline of his wolfish smile, his hazy eyes as he looks at you.

“no time right now, pet,” he grinds his hips against you, still fully clothed. his bulge is rock-hard against your ass. he’s grunting softly, running his hands up and down your body. his fingers grasp your breasts, roughly squeezing through the material of your shirt. “wish i could take my time with you… it’ll have to wait.”

“just do something,” you mutter, growing impatient at the ache between your legs. you can feel your panties, soaked and sticking to your center with your arousal.

“use your manners, you fucking brat,” he snarks, nipping at your earlobe.

you squeak, and he stiffens for a second. his hand slides up, wrapping around your throat. “and shut up. how many times have i got to say it?”

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you whisper. the footsteps don’t come any closer. you wonder if mcgonagall is even out there at all, but your mind slips back to sirius as you feel him dragging the waistband of your trousers down.

“keep that pretty mouth shut, pet, or i’ll shut it for you,” he warns.

you nod. you’ll do anything he says just to have him buried inside of you. you need it so bad, your entire body begging for his touch. you brace yourself, spreading your legs to allow him access as his hand delves between your legs from behind. his fingers drag through your slit, slow, spreading your juices.

he takes a deep breath, burying his face into your neck. he’s smiling against your skin. “that pretty cunt’s just dripping f’me,” he says softly, the contrast of his filthy words and gentle tone making your head spin. “wish i could make you scream and cry for me…”

you barely register his words, flinching as he prods a finger at your entrance. he swirls it at your swollen hole, enjoying the way you jerk against him, sensitive. you bite down on your bottom lip, hard. your eyes are half-hooded, struggling to stay open as he teases you. he pushes your legs further apart, then his hand is gone. you hear the clink of his belt buckle, feel him adjusting his position behind you.

tears of pleasure prick your eyes as he sinks into you; you want to cry out, the sound threatening to rip from your chest at the slightest movement from him. he feels your whole body tense, his hold on your throat tightening. “not–” he pulls out briefly, before burying his cock to the hilt inside of you again “--a fucking sound.”

you nod, “yes, yes sir,” you breathe, as quietly as you can manage. you take trembling breaths, trying to contain yourself at the mind blowing drag of his swollen cockhead against your walls. his pace is slow, but forceful.

his every movement is making your body tick closer to release. his thrusts are steady, wet noises squelching through the room as your juices drip down your legs. your legs are weak already, but his body pinning yours against the door is enough to keep you upright as you claw at the wood in front of you. he squeezes your throat just enough to cut off the sounds that you can’t help. his other hand finds your stomach, palm pressing into the flesh to feel the bulge of his cock buried deep inside of you.

“god–” you breathe, throwing your head back. “can’t take it much longer…”

he makes a noise, half laugh and half moan. his voice is condescending as he says, “gonna come f’me already? pathetic little pet…” his hips rut into yours with increased force; you wince at the sudden sound of soaked slapping skin, the noises cutting through the quiet broom cupboard like a knife.

“s–slow down, sirius,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut as the feeling becomes overwhelming. you slump against him, head lolling back onto his shoulder. “someone’ll hear us.”

his hips snap into yours, sharper. “won’t hear anything if you’d just listen,” he says, his voice sharp. “how many times do i need to tell you to be quiet?” his fingers snake up from your neck, two of them sliding between your swollen lips. you moan around them, your jaw going slack.

he’s hitting the perfect spot inside of you, your vision going fuzzy as he forces you to the brink of orgasm. he doesn’t even have to touch your clit, having gotten you so worked up that he can just hammer into your g-spot and drive you over the edge. he hums his approval, dragging his teeth along your collarbone as you dissolve into moans and whimpers around his fingers. you drool around his long digits, teasing the back of your throat. you gag around them, your saliva leaking down his wrist.

“there’s m’good li’l pet, being so quiet for me,” he praises in that mean voice. you clench forcefully around him, your entire body overtaken by waves of pleasure that send your knees crumpling completely. a gravelly moan comes from him, the repeated tightening of your walls pushing him over the edge. the feeling of him coming inside of you sends renewed waves of ecstasy through your body, your mind going blank as you lose yourself in the feeling. your mind can’t conjure a single thought except him, his hands all over you, his teeth grazing and marking your skin, his cock rearranging your insides.

“sirius,” you gasp, appreciating the strength of his grip on you as he helps you regain your footing. he plants a kiss against a dark spot on your neck as he holds you upright. there’s a second where the two of you catch your breath, the quiet overwhelming after the overload of emotions you just experienced. he pulls out of you, and you whimper softly at the emptiness. you struggle to adjust your trousers, smartening yourself.

“i wasn’t too mean, was i?” he brushes a sweat-soaked strand of hair from your forehead.

you smile gently, shaking your head. “you’ve been much meaner, trust me.”

he laughs. “seems like i’ve fucked the attitude out of you.”

“watch yourself, black.”

“right,” he nods, looking a bit flustered at the sharp look on your face. then, he says, “still up for sneaking into the kitchens?

#sirius black #sirius black fic #sirius black x reader smut #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #marauders era fic #marauders smut #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders era #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #smut #slb.works

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engie-ivy · 11 months

Text

@wolfstarmicrofic 23rd: Accio

373 words

"I wish I had a boyfriend," Mary sighs wistfully, staring at Frank and Alice snuggled up together in front of the fireplace.

"Iew." Dorcas scrunches up her nose. "Don't say such pathetic things ever again please."

"No, I feel you, Mary," Emmeline says. "Snuggle season is coming up, and it sucks to have no one to cuddle up to."

Remus nods in agreement, but Marlene rolls her eyes. "Boys are twits." As if to confirm her words, right at that moment, a Quaffle flies right past her head, as James and Sirius apparently thought it a good idea to pass it back and forth in the middle of the common room. "Oi, watch it, you bunch of Flobberworms!"

"I know, I know," Emmeline says, hugging a pillow to her chest. "But I want one of them to be my twit."

Mary picks up her wand. "Accio future husband!"

Lily snorts. "It doesn't work like that, honey. The thing with love is-" She's interrupted by a loud bang as the Quaffle hits one of the shields hanging on the wall. "Oh, for Godric's sake, Potter! Isn't it enough for everyone to stare at you on the Quidditch pitch? Gotta show off here as well?" She shakes her head and turns back to Mary. "Anyways, as I was saying, the thing with love is that it comes when you least expect it, it can't be conjured up by a spell."

"But there's no harm in trying!" Emmeline happily chimes in, lifting her own wand. "Accio tall, dark and handsome wizard who worships the very ground I walk on!"

Mary, Emmeline and Remus chuckle.

"Okay, my turn!" Remus says. "Accio love of my life!"

At that moment, James throws a tricky curve Quaffle and Sirius has to quickly step to the left to catch it, but as he does, his foot gets caught on the rug and he trips, toppling over onto the chair Remus is sitting on, ending up right on his lap.

"Whoa! Oef! Oh, hiya Moons." While Remus' face turns beet red, Sirius gives him an easy grin. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Huh." Lily brushes a strand of hair away from her face. "What do you know. Maybe it does work like that."

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius

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rae-and-mezo · 1 year

Note

The legacy characters reacting to mc/you kissing them?

A/n: I assumed you meant the first kiss...if I am wrong please let me know! I really liked this one, fluff is my forte. If you guys would like a girls version, let me know! This just got waaay too long lol.

Sebastian Sallow:

Alright. To go in order, he is surprised, flustered, and then overjoyed.

I imagine you're trampling through the woods in search of some potion ingredients. After all, Sebastian despises paying for things he can easily grab from the wild.

So the two of you are searching for a white flower with a blue and pink center. It's harder than it looks but you're having the time of your life being so far away from anyone but each other.

Sebastian thought that maybe this would become a patronus memory. He wasn't wrong!

"There it is!" You exclaim out of nowhere. He turns to see your outstretched hand reaching for a clearing in the cliffs. A cave. The flower is in a small, narrow cave.

Magic is forbidden outside of Hogwarts grounds, and somewhere long ago you had passed the border. So a summoning charm is out of question.

Sebastian hoists you on his shoulders so you can wriggle into the small space. And, of course, you do. There is a small moment of panick where you thought that you might be stuck, but he helped you out smoothly.

Of course, you have to thank him with a kiss. So yeah, you stand on your toes and plant a small kiss on his lips. The two of you had been dating for less than two weeks and you were tired of him not making a move to kiss you.

Unbeknownst to you, he was going to kiss you as a little reward to himself for saving you.

His arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him. He wouldn't let you off with ONE kiss!

On the outside he is calm and collected but on the inside, he is so giddy it's almost contagious. The most amazing person at Hogwarts just kissed him? And he's kissing them again? Yeah, he smiles into the kiss and has to bite down a happy giggle.

Ominis gets SUCH an earful that night!!

Ominis Gaunt:

Mans is the definition of "Pining."

Everything you do has him absolutely enamored, willing for more. And when I mean everything, I mean he's listening you tend to a flobberworm with a HUGE grin. But, he never makes a move because, well, you're the hero of hogwarts! Surely you could do better than a blind, cold, Gaunt.

He agreed to spend the afternoon with you in your Vivarium. After all, he loves animals! Maybe not as much as Poppy, but he definitely is in his happy place. Warm grass, sunshine, a Mooncalf laying it's head on his stomach, and most of all, you!

His smile grows impossibly larger once he hears you laugh. "Ominis, he just rolled over! The worm!" There wasn't much incredible about worms in his opinion, but you were excited and that made it worth it.

"That's incredible! Maybe you can train them like dogs!" You flopped down on the grass beside him and smiled at his comment. "I bet I could learn to make leashes for them. Considering they don't have necks, it would be a challenge."

You were close. So close. Was that new perfume? Ominis went into overdrive, subtly scooting away from you. He couldn't stomach the thought of you hearing his heart beat out of his chest after all.

"Ominis?" He craned his head in your direction. Was he blushing? Oh merlin, he hoped not.

"I was just talking about Hogsmeade, are you alright? Usually you jump to go to Honeydukes." Genuine concern laced your voice and he smiled. You always were just too kind.

"Fine, sorry. Go on."

But you were silent. It wasn't until he felt a weight against his arm that he realized you had moved closer.

"Ominis, has anyone told you that you're gorgeous?" You laughed at his guffaw. "No...?"

"You are. Beautiful, even. Handsome if I do say so myself."

Your breath tickled his ear. How fast does a heart have to beat in order to explode? He dreaded to find out.

"MC..." He trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Can I kiss you?" You offered instead.

His mind was screaming at him to decline, screaming that he would somehow hurt you, but his heart took charge and he found himself nodding.

If he thought you smelled sweet, you tasted sweeter. And he sighed at a gentle kiss. His heart calmed down, everything seemed to calm when you were touching him.

Carefully he placed a hand on the back of your head and pulled you in for another kiss.

As he felt you smile into the kiss, all his worries about not being good enough went away.

You were here, with him, and that's all that matters.

Garreth Weasley

Golden retriever boyfriend!!

Technically (and I use technically very loosely here,) You guys aren't dating.

But he calls you pet names and you kiss his cheek, one of you is always sneaking the other into your dorm for cuddles, and hand holding is almost a second reflex.

So yeah. Other than not being labeled as partners, you guys are dating.

And it's after quidditch that you guys...make it official.

It was the house cup and you both were playing. Whether it be both for Gryffindor or Gryffindor versus your house, the two of you are up in the air.

After not having Quidditch fifth year, it's a warm welcome to be up and fighting for your house!

The game was intense, and you could hear your friends screaming for your victory in the stands.

A large number of people had gathered outside of the pitch as well. The house cup always drew former students back to watch their old house win.

All the attention must have gone to your ego, because you were playing amazing!! Even your rivals were gawking at you. Of course you were good at quidditch before, but the extra attention makes you a superstar!

And so when the snitch is caught and the crowd goes wild, the pure Euphoria washes over you in a wild wave.

You had won, and you had won in a landslide.

Garreth is spotted and you don't think twice before jumping from your broom to his, laughing at his confused expression.

"We won!!" You exclaimed, grabbing onto his shoulders and smiling so wide it hurt. "We won the house cup!"

"I kno-" Garreth is cut off by you grabbing his face by the cheeks and kissing him hard. His face goes almost as red as his hair!

The broom stutters underneath you and he quickly calms it down, grabbing onto your waist and kissing you back just as passionately.

Well, Natty catches you guys, noticing you aren't on the ground celebrating and her laugh is what makes you break apart. With embarrassed glances, the two of you follow Natty back down to the pitch.

Leander Prewitt:

Boy is too confident in his mistakes.

By that, I mean, he asked you on a date to the three broomsticks. It went well and you were feeling all fuzzy...until he tried to kiss you.

Of course you didn't mind being kissed by him but he goes in with all his confidence and smashes his forehead against your nose, causing it to bleed. So he goes to grab a napkin but knocks his chair over and it lands on your foot. Then, picking it up, he bumped into the table and spilled your butterbeer. The hot liquid went right into the woman at the adjacent table's lap.

So, naturally, he helped you stop the bleeding and then he ran. He's been avoiding you since then and your feeble attempts at finding him don't work.

He's...a mess.

Garreth comes and finds you a couple days later and he can't even keep the irritation out of his tone while he tells you that Leander would like to speak to you. Meet him at the DADA tower tonight.

He walks away before you can ask him what time.

You waited for three hours and your annoyance grew by every moment. Of course you didn't blame Leander, Garreth didn't tell you what time! To your knowledge anyway. No, Leander CHOSE not to give a time because he heard Sebastian talking about how feelings intensify after a waiting period.

Welp. Not exactly what he meant, Leander, but okay.

When Leander peeks around the corner, he thinks you don't notice him, but oh boy, you do.

"Can you BELIEVE Garreth didn't give me a time? I have been waiting for three bloody hours! Gah!" You slammed your book shut and stood to face him. "It's okay. What would you like to talk to me about?"

He's too busy mentally beating himself up to answer you immediately. "Oh, uh," He stutters after a few seconds. "I just wanted to say that I am so, so very sorry for how our date went."

"It's not your fault, Leander, don't worry! And Nurse Blainey fixed my nose. No worries."

He still didn't look convinced. Even though you had to stand on your toes, you stood and kissed him lightly on the lips. "It's all alright, Lee."

Okay he malfunctioned. Mans just stopped working.

Slowly his face goes pink and his smile grows. He might be a loser sometimes, but hey. He's your loser.

Amit Thakkar.

So, so Awkward.

Yes, he likes you. Alot. But you don't like him that way, and that's fine! He values your friendship anyway. Well, he thought you didn't like him that way.

Truth be told, you were absolutely smitten with him!

Who doesn't love a handsome and smart, not to mention sweet boy?

The only person who knows this is your best friend, Poppy.

And of course, she is determined to get the two of you together. Because if she heard you ramble on about liking him but knowing he doesn't feel the same one more time, she might just lose it.

So in History of Magic one day, she notices Amit isn't glued to the board. He's scribbling in his notebook, but- wait. He's blushing.

She takes the seat next to him, leaving both you and Amit confused. He's quick to turn the page. This doesn't discourage your friend whatsoever. Instead, she just smiles to herself. When Amit isn't looking, she switches their notebooks and comes back to her normal seat next to you.

"I have something for you."

You can only blink at her. After all, she was acting very strange. "O-okay?"

And she hands you his notebook, flips a page, and wow you are face to face with a page of love poems. Mostly original ones too. Written in your house colors, describing someone who could only be you.

"I told you!!" Poppy hisses at you with a triumphant smirk on her face.

After class, Amit stayed behind to look for his notebook. You stayed behind to give it to him.

"Poppy had this." You can't meet his eyes.

Oh no. He knows what you read.

"Mc! It's not- I didn't mean to- Oh merlin MC, I'm sorry you had to read that."

His face is PALE because he is convinced you think he's weird and want nothing to do with him now.

"No, no, Amit don't apologize! I thought they were incredibly sweet."

Oh great, now they're trying to make him feel better.

"Really, I did." You continued. "I- I have my own Poems actually. I mean I didn't write them myself but I like Poetry. Alot. I guess what I want to say-am trying to say I mean- is that I feel the same way about you."

Amit went from pale to flushed in record time. "You do? I-wow, okay-wow."

An awkward silence filled the room before your enchanted watch dinged, letting you know that you were late to Charms. "I have to go...will you meet me at the Astronomy tower tonight? After dinner?"

He is still blushing as you lean in to kiss his cheek. With a shy half smile you leave the classroom, smiling to yourself. He is left standing in place, a hand over where you kissed his cheek and a shy but ecstatic grin on his face.

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morelikeravenbore · 17 days

Note

💕Positivity prime time! Share five things you love about yourself, four things you're excited about, OR three people you care deeply about and why. Pass this along to someone whose posts make you smile💕

CA-CAW BISH 💙

CA-CAW BINCH! 💙

Thank you for sending this, ya cutie! I didn't feel like writing about myself so I uh did this instead 👉👈 hehe I hope it spreads some positivity regardless.

Silly drabble, 600~ words.

Sebastian smoothed the sheet of parchment over the desk and reviewed his work with a small nod of satisfaction. Curfew was near, and the library was deathly silent save for the near-constant stream of dark mutterings coming from the girl beside him. Aurélie, for all her beauty, humour, and charm, was a force to be reckoned with when she was in a bad mood, and after an entire day of being grumbled, glared and snapped at, Sebastian was quite ready to put a stop to it.

'Right,' he said decisively, squinting at his untidy scrawl. 'Are you ready?'

'No.'

'First question —'

'I still don't understand how this is going to help!'

Not for the first time in his life, Sebastian thanked whatever higher power had given him a twin sister and thus a lifetime of experience dealing with the wildly shifting moods of girls: Anne was certainly a formidable foe when she was upset, but even the volatile temper of a Sallow paled in comparison to that of a French girl when she woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

Still, vast experience notwithstanding, he exhaled a deep, slow breath before calmly explaining, for the third time in a row, ‘It's called practising gratitude. It's supposed to help you shift your mood so you feel better.'

'Fine,' Aurélie pouted, slumping lower in her chair. 'Ask the stupid questions.'

‘First,’ he began, referring to the list of prompts he'd compiled. 'List five things you love about yourself.'

'Five?' she shrieked, bolting upright as if he'd just assigned her a twelve inch essay on the history of flobberworms. 'Pass. Next.'

'We'll come back to that one, then, shall we?' he said through his teeth. 'Share four things you're excited about.'

'Going to bed,' she muttered.

Sebastian scribbled it down. 'And?'

'That's it.'

Unwilling to concede defeat until he at least drew out a single, tiny, begrudging smile from her, he went on. 'Next question. Three people you love deeply.'

'Shoes.'

'Shoes are not people, Aura.'

'Shoes are a girl's best friend.'

'That's diamonds!'

'Those, too. Write that down.'

'Alright.' With mounting frustration, he added "shoes" and "diamonds" to the list of people she loved. 'Who else? Real people, Aura.'

'Celeste,' she offered, leaning forward to watch him write her best friend's name on the list.

'And? Come on, you might play the part of World’s Most Aloof Ravenclaw, but I know for a fact you love more than just one person…'

'Hmm, Poppy. And Esme! And Jean, and Siobhan. And Lory, Cordelia, Tessa, Rosalie, Gibby, Allegra. Ummm...' She paused to catch her breath while Sebastian's quill flew across the parchment, struggling to keep up. 'Johanna, Calypso, Matty, Eleanor, Ariane, Winter, Alyn. Oh, and Artemis, and Lydia! And Violet and Pearl, and Eloise, both of them —'

When finally she found herself out of names, Sebastian reviewed the long list with a bemused expression. ‘All these friends and you can't think of a single nice thing to say about yourself. Anyway —’ He shook his head and turned to look at her, ‘— you're missing someone.'

'Oh?' she frowned, critically eyeing the list of names. ‘No, I don't think so.’

'Mhm. A certain charming, good-looking, highly intelligent, freckled someone.'

'Oh!' She smacked her palm to her forehead. 'You're right! Garreth Weasley.'

Sebastian nearly choked on his tongue. 'I'm not writing Garreth fucking Weasley under "people you love deeply"', he refused, throwing his quill down.

'Oh, but he's so friendly.'

‘No,’ he said flatly.

‘Alright, alright, grum-py. How about this?’ With an impish grin, she picked up his quill and, in a long, elegant script, wrote “Sebastian Sallow” across the top of the parchment.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. ‘You couldn't have put me first?’ he grumbled.

‘I could've,’ she replied, smiling for the first time that day. ‘But it's much more fun making you jealous.’

🦋 Featuring my loves and some of Aura's AU besties: @sallowsangel @sallowslove @sloanesallow @lorriiraine @2centniffler @gingerlegacy07 @mianeryh @galaxiasgreen @lyworth @ravenwind-75 @dwightschrute11 @girl-named-matty @endless-starlight-legacy @yoshitsuno @moonstruckmoony @ps-cactus @polarisgreenley @esolean @vienguinn @myokk @thesuperiorfeeling

#ask morelikeravenbore #morelikeravenbore writes #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #aurelie collins

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fanfic-wonderland · 11 months

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This Is War {Fred Weasley}

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Slytherin loses the Quidditch Cup to Gryffindor, (Y/N) decides to get back at them... and at Fred Weasley.

Word count: 5.3k

Read part two here.

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"Look at them," Draco glowers at the group of people flying around the other side above the pitch, moving to stand right across from us. All of them are wearing matching red and gold uniforms, a very distinctive contrast to our (better-looking) green and silver ones. "They think they have a chance against us just because Potter is their Seeker. If you ask me, I've seen Flobberworms moving around faster than him."

The rest of the team laughs. I have the sudden urge to point out the many times Harry's beaten Draco in the past, just to shut them up, but I choose to keep it to myself. After all, we're on the same team, even if I often don't agree with my teammates. Besides, I would never hear the end of it, and the last thing I'd want to do when I'm so close to graduating is to get in trouble with Lucius Malfoy because his son is a whiny baby.

I keep observing the opposite team. All of them have gathered around in their own little broom circle, listening to what one of the three girls is saying. I spot Harry Potter with his back facing us while Ron Weasley stands beside him, looking defeated already.

And standing next to him are his older identical twin brothers. The worst of them all, by far. Those two are just so hard to like. They're careless, and reckless, and love to waste their time coming up with useless little experiments. They specifically have taken quite a liking to pulling pranks on us Slytherins daily, and frankly, It's become very annoying.

Three nights ago, in fact, the Weasley twins and a few other Gryffindors took it too far when they decided to bombard our entire Common Room —and our dorms— with Dungbombs. And three nights later, we're still mad. How they managed to sneak past us and plant all those bombs remains a mystery, but one thing is for sure: they've declared war and we are not backing down. "I'd love nothing more than to see their faces when we win that Quidditch Cup," Adrian Pucey says next to me. "It'd be the perfect way to get back at them for their little prank last time."

The rest of us mutter in agreement. "Well, if we want to do that, then we have to play perfectly today. Considering It's the final game and all," I point out. "That means we can't let them score too many points or catch the Snitch. And that means you'll have to be extra quick today, Draco."

He shoots me a nasty look as if he's disgusted by the fact that I'm telling him what to do. "Thank you for sharing that with us, (Y/L/N)," Graham Montague adverts his attention from Gryffindor and turns to me, the same look on his face. "Unfortunately, I don't remember making you our Co-Captain, so you might want to keep any comments or useless observations to yourself."

I hear snickering behind me but I do not turn around. Being the only girl on the team definitely comes with its cons. Sexism, for example. "I'm certainly doing a better job than our current Captain," I mutter quietly while rolling my eyes.

Down at the pitch, Madam Hooch steps into the center of the field, next to a brown trunk, and blows her whistle, which is somehow heard over the loud cheering from the crowd. Both teams fly closer to each other. Gryffindor shoots daggers at us and, as I take a long look at all of them, I find one of the twins staring directly at me. They're identical but, because of their little 'history' of messing with me and my fellow classmates, I can tell them apart almost naturally. I don't know if that's a good thing or not.

I can tell immediately that it is Fred Weasley who is smiling mockingly at me and a wave of rage runs through me.

Of course, It's Fred. I've discovered throughout the years that, even though both twins are bad enough on their own, Fred is by far the worst of the pair. While George can sometimes know when to stop, Fred does not care nearly as much about crossing the line. I glare at him, hard enough to get him to look away first, but his smile only grows bigger and he winks at me. I finally break eye contact, but only because I want all of my focus to be on the game and not wasted on someone so immature as him.

Once everyone is set, Madam Hooch opens up the trunk and the two Bludgers shoot into the sky, quickly followed by the Golden Snitch. Then, as soon as the Quaffle finally shoots free, the game starts.

It feels like a long match, like an endless cat-and-mouse game as both teams try and catch up to each other. For the longest time, It's a close call between scores, which makes all players —and the public— tense. Lee Jordan's commentary is all over the place throughout the game; one minute, he's excited when Gryffindor is in the lead, and then the next one he's accusing Slytherin of cheating when we take it (which most of the time ends up being true, but I look past it). Despite this, we put up a fairly good fight, and for the first time in so long, it feels like the Quidditch Cup is finally ours.

Unfortunately, we don't put up a good enough fight.

I'm too busy avoiding Bludgers and trying to take the Quaffle away from the opposite team that I nearly jump from my broom when I hear the whistle blowing again. Confused, I halt my flight and look around. I quickly spot Draco in the distance, running a hand through his hair in frustration, and I immediately know what happened.

Harry caught the Snitch. Again.

"Gryffindor wins!" Madam Hooch announces.

A loud wave of cheers erupts from the Gryffindors in the crowd, hugging each other and jumping excitedly at their victory. I groan as the rest of the opposite team lands back on the ground to go and congratulate Harry for the catch. I watch as they smile and pump fists into the air, and I shake my head in disappointment. I really thought we were going to win this time. "Well, I guess we're still the best team, huh?" A voice says and I turn to look at the person.

Fred is the only Gryffindor still mounting a broom, and he doesn't seem to be in any rush to join his teammates. He leans back effortlessly as if he's lying on a couch, with his hands behind his head. I scowl at him. "Shouldn't you be down there celebrating your victory, then, instead of bothering me?"

He shrugs. "I'd much rather be here, watching your defeat from up close."

My nostrils flare and if I had my wand I'd hex him here and there. "Aww, but don't worry," He fake pouts. "There'll be plenty of opportunities to try and win in the next few years. Too bad you won't be here to see it."

He finally flies away with that stupid smug look on his face and it takes everything in me not to throw a Bludger at his head. I try to ignore the fact that his words struck a nerve because he's right. This was my last chance to help win the Quidditch Cup for Slytherin and now It's gone. I missed it.

Shaking the thoughts away, I go to join my sulking teammates, who are all gathering around Draco. "I almost had it. I even touched it with the tip of my fingers," He's saying when I arrive. I have a feeling that that is not at all true. "But then Potter had to come in and ruin everything. I bet that broom of his was charmed with super speed or something."

No one says anything about it. I know they're upset about losing but they would never dare blame Draco for it. "We were so close, though," says Cassius Warrington in a frustrated tone.

"Yeah, and now we've got to think of another way to get back at them," Adrian adds.

As I watch the other team still celebrating, a light bulb turns on above my head. "Don't worry, guys," I reassure them. My wicked smile brings them a sort of comfort. "I think I have a plan to get them back."

***

"Okay, but why do I have to get dragged into this?" Daphne Greengrass, my puzzled best friend, asks as we step out of our dorm and into the dark hallway. "I don't have any beef with Gryffindor, that's your thing."

"Right, but, aside from myself, you're the only person that I trust to do this job," I tell her, quickening my steps down the stairs. "And you're way more tolerable than the others."

"Gee, thanks for that,"

"Plus, the Slytherin team is around the castle keeping watch of any Professors or Prefects or Filch," I add. "And Draco and Blaise have to get the two Gryffindor girls, so we're stuck with the most important task, and we have to do it right."

"Because of course, we are," Daphne rolls her eyes.

"Did you bring the secret ingredients?"

She reaches into her bag and takes out two clear bottles, one with a dark purple liquid in it and the other one with something that almost looks like mud. I smile delightedly. "You have no idea how happy I am that you just happened to have Sleeping Draught and Polyjuice Potion lying around the dorm."

"That's funny because back then, I remember you said that me brewing potions for fun was 'a bit pointless if you have to wait so long to brew them'" Daphne recalls.

I clear my throat uncomfortably. "I do apologize for that. I will never doubt you again."

The plan is simple.

Gryffindor is currently having a party to celebrate their victory at their Common Room. Draco and Blaise Zabini have written a letter addressed to Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, probably the easiest targets we could get, asking them to meet Michael Corner and Cormac McLaggen at the Courtyard. Pansy Parkinson will charm said letter to fly to the girls; once they get it, Draco and Blaise will put them to sleep, take a strand of hair from each of them, and bring it back to us. We mix the hair with our potion servings, drink the potion, and once we transform we sneak into the Common Room and add a (lot) bit of Sleeping Draught into the drinks. When we've made sure that everyone in the room fell into a deep slumber, we take the Quidditch Cup from them and they'll wake up in the morning with no idea of what happened. It'll look like everyone was just blackout drunk and they lost the Cup because of their irresponsibility.

It's a great plan if you ask me.

"I do have a question, though," Daphne stops walking once we make it to our own Common Room. "Don't we need the password to get into their Common Room?"

I grin and reach into my pocket, holding out a piece of paper in front of her. 'Mimbulus mimbletonia', it reads. "I stole it from that Longbottom kid in Transfiguration earlier," I say. "At first, I figured we'd rely on luck and wait until someone came around to help us, but it was much easier to just take the password from him. Plus, it saves us time."

"Huh," Daphne takes a seat on the nearest chair and folds her arms, impressed. "Good thinking. So, when are Draco and Blaise coming?"

"I'd say they should be here—"

Before I finish my sentence, and as if they've heard us talking about them, the Common Room door opens and both boys walk toward us with triumphant looks on their faces. Draco holds up the small pouch in his hand. "We got them."

"Oh, good," I sigh in relief as they hold out their pouches to us. I take the one in Draco's hand and Daphne takes the other one. I open mine up and a few long dark hairs come out. I can immediately tell that it is Parvati's. "Good job, guys. Daphne?"

She takes out two cups from her bag and hands one to me. Once I take it, she pours the muddy liquid into mine and then onto hers. I glance down at my cup, grimacing when I notice It's bubbling in the most disgusting way. I turn back at Daphne before I can start feeling nauseous. "Ready?"

She gulps, also eyeing her potion, then gives a slow nod.

We each throw our hair into the liquid, which completely consumes it until it is not visible anymore. A few moments pass and my potion begins to shift colors. The muddy brown is completely gone, replaced by a shocking pink that nearly blinds me. I look up at Daphne's portion and hers has turned into... well, lavender. "You don't happen to have an idea of how much these will last, do you?" I ask her.

Daphne smiles weakly. "One can never really tell, am I right?" She raises her glass in front of me. "Bottoms up!"

We both chug down our potion at once. Mine tastes... okay. I don't know why I expected it to taste like shit but It's sweet, although not overpowering. Daphne's doesn't seem to taste too bad, either, seeing as she drinks it with ease.

The bad part comes right after.

I've never consumed Polyjuice Potion before this so I'm not sure exactly what to expect, but I've heard the transformation process is extremely unpleasant so I'm not expecting something good. Once it finally starts, I let go of my cup and I'm crouching on the floor in less than 10 seconds. My insides feel like they're twisting and turning into irreparable knots, and my skin feels like It's burning. I hear Daphne moaning in pain but I don't look up at her. My eyes are glued to the bubbles forming in my hands and arms. I nearly begin to panic but I try to remain calm as my skin begins to darken, my fingers shrinking a bit and turning slightly thinner. A long dark hood begins to take over my vision while I'm still crouched, and it takes me a moment to realize that It's just my hair, which doesn't seem to stop growing. My robes suddenly begin to feel lighter than usual as my body takes the shape of Parvati. The pain stops as suddenly as it started and it leaves me trying to catch my breath. I try to stand up straight again, catching sight of Draco and Blaise's faces first. Both of them look like they've seen a ghost for a moment before their expressions shift into amusement. "Whoa," Blaise mutters. "That was terrifying to watch. But you guys look exactly like them."

I don't say anything as I turn to find Daphne again, but I'm met with Lavender Brown staring at me with wide eyes instead. We both gasp, frozen in our spots. To anyone else, she wouldn't look any different than the real Lavender, but I still find a bit of Daphne in the way she stares at me. "Oh Merlin," she tilts her head. "This is terrifying."

"Tell me about it," I agree while I take one last look at my hands. I grab my hair; It's so long that I have no idea what to do with it. I've never had it this long so it does sort of feel heavy.

"Yes, yes, It's all very impressive," Draco says in a dismissive manner. "But we still have other important things to do."

Even though I hate that he has to be such an asshole all the time, he's right. We cannot lose sight of what's important.

So, Daphne and I go to change clothes and then head to the Gryffindor Tower. It feels like a marathon but we finally stop in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. She eyes us carefully and for a moment I begin to think that she's onto us. I try not to look suspicious and I can sense Daphne doing the same next to me. "Password?"

"Mimbulus mimbletonia." I say without stuttering, trying to seem casual and like It's not my first time sneaking into Gryffindor's Common Room.

She nods and the portrait slowly opens. I almost let out a sigh of relief as we walk in but I'm stopped by the sight of the Common Room. I've never been here before but It's hard to take it all in when there are so many students in it at the same time. Nonetheless, I can tell that It's so much different than Slytherin's Common Room, and not in a good way.

"Okay," Daphne says, but It's barely audible through the loud music playing. "We're here now, there's no turning back. Do you see the drinks anywhere?"

I scan the room a bit longer. I spot the music box in a corner, next to a couple making out against the wall; I spot the Quidditch Cup exhibited on a clear shelf, next to Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley who are talking on the other side of the room; and I do see many people holding cups, which means that we'll probably have to go around slipping Sleeping Draught in all of them.

I finally catch a glimpse of a long table with different kinds of snacks and—

"I see something!" I tell her excitedly and I point to the table, where there are also two huge bowls filled with red and gold liquid, probably charmed to look that way.

Daphne smiles in satisfaction. "Let's get started, shall we?"

"Wait," I stop her. "I think we have to split up."

"Huh?"

"There are people drinking already so maybe you could try and slip some Draught in their drinks while I try to slip it into the bowls first?" I suggest.

She nods. "Right. I'll start on the left side of the room, then."

We divide the potion and part ways, and I start making my way through the crowd until I can't see her anymore. A few people say hi to me and, even though I don't know much about Parvati Patil, I try to act how I've seen her act— bright, outgoing, and a little bit annoying. Luckily, though, no one stops to make conversation so I make an easy escape until I finally reach the table.

I take out the cup that Daphne gave me and I discreetly begin to pour the purple liquid into the cup. Fortunately, it does not change colors. "I see what you're doing," a voice says from behind me and I almost drop the cup.

I turn around, trying to act normal, and then I see that the person talking is none other than Fred Weasley. Out of all people. "What?"

He grins. "You're spiking the punch even more, aren't you? I didn't know you were such a party animal, Parvati."

I almost forget that I look like a whole different person right now. I chuckle and raise my arms. "You're right. You caught me."

"Well, don't let me stop you. Go on ahead. It'll definitely make things a lot more fun around here." Fred winks at me before he walks away and I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding.

Aside from that small incident, I don't bump into anyone else. Everyone's already too drunk out of their minds to notice me. It makes it easier for me to slip more Sleeping Draught into people's drinks, and I keep doing it until I find Daphne again and we're certain that we've got everyone. "And now we just wait."

***

It doesn't take long for everyone but Daphne and I to start collapsing from sleep. In fact, it happens very quickly.

Daphne and I are giggling like maniacs as we tiptoe around until we're in front of the silver Quidditch Cup, admiring its beauty for a moment. "I can't believe we actually pulled this off," Daphne says under her breath, her eyes glowing. "We're so cool."

"Told you we could do it," I nudge her side. "Now for the final act..."

I take it in my hands. It feels heavier than I expected but it feels so good to hold it. "What a beauty," I keep admiring it until I'm brought back to my senses. "Okay, now let's get out of here."

We finally make it out of the Common Room and it feels like we've been liberated. Our surroundings begin to feel familiar again. "I'll go let the others know that we have the Cup," Daphne announces excitedly.

"Good idea," I tell her. "I'll go take this to the dungeons."

She nods and we part ways once again. I try to hide the Cup in my bag as much as I can but It's so big that the top part still sticks out, but it will have to do.

If the path to the Gryffindor Tower felt long, this time it feels eternal, especially when the tension of being caught follows me around. I have to be extra careful this time; if anyone sees me I'll get in huge trouble and I don't even want to begin thinking about that. So I have to sneak around and be very aware of my surroundings if I want this to go as planned. It's all up to me now.

When I'm finally sure that I'm outside of the public eye, I turn a corner and let out a shriek as I almost come face-to-face with a tall figure. And of course, It's Fred Weasley again.

Wait...

"H-hey, Fred!" I smile brightly at him. Maybe it comes off a bit too forced but oh well. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to check up on you and Lavender, since you guys left in such a hurry," His eyes find my bag and my stomach drops. "What are you doing with the Quidditch Cup?"

"I'm..." I try to think fast but without looking suspicious, and then I realize that I'm most certainly failing at it. "I was just on my way to polish it! And then I was going to bring it back later."

"Were you?" Fred raises an eyebrow and steps closer.

I nod. "Of course! What, you think I'm stealing it or something?"

He's practically hovering over me now and I have to crane my neck to look up at him. He extends a hand out to me. "Why don't you let me help you, then?"

"I'm sure you're probably busy—"

"I have nothing on my schedule right now." He cuts me off. His gaze makes me feel like a criminal. "I'd love to help out."

I shrug. "It shouldn't be too much work, I can do it on my own, really—"

Suddenly, my back is pressed against the stone wall and I'm caged in between both of his arms. I yelp in surprise. Fred's face is awfully close to mine and he's staring at me as if he's trying to figure out my identity. My true identity. "You're not the real Parvati, are you?"

I swallow hard and do the first thing that comes to mind: I take out my wand from my back pocket and point it at him. "Flipendo!"

A yellow light surges out of the tip of my wand and knocks Fred back and away from me. As soon as his back meets the ground I make a run for it.

I have no idea where I'm heading, my vision is far too clouded right now, but I do not look back and I do not stop running. I've forgotten all about being discreet and I've stopped worrying about getting caught by someone else. I'm already in enough trouble as it is.

My feet guide me outside of the castle, and I know that if anyone finds out I'll get detention for at least 2 months, but I don't care as I keep moving. My stomach begins to turn in that weird way again all of a sudden. "Oh no, please, not now," I beg.

Despite the uncomfortable feeling, I'm still running until I reach the dock at the Great Lake. It's barely visible and the water is so dark that it looks like a huge void, but at least no one can see me here. The pain continues for a few moments, and when it finally stops I look at my hands. They look like my hands again. I reach to touch my hair and realize It's not nearly as long anymore. Even if it didn't last long, it feels good to be back to my old self.

"There you are,"

Crap.

I turn slowly to look at Fred, who apparently does not know to mind his own bloody business. His eyes widen in surprise once he sees me but then he shakes his head and smirks. "Well, hello there. I never thought that, out of all people, you would try and pull off something like this," I remain quiet. "I believe you have something that belongs to us." He takes a step closer.

I pretend to ponder. "No, I don't think I do. I think you have the wrong person."

"Oh, silly me, right? I thought you looked different back there," He says then takes out his own wand. "Accio Quidditch Cup!"

The Cup suddenly flies out of the bag, all the way into Fred's hands.

"Give it to me," I run towards him and try to yank the cup from his hands. Unfortunately for me, his grip is way stronger than mine. He raises it above his head, which, given our very distinctive height difference, is impossible for me to reach. I jump while extending my arm as high as possible, but It's useless. He's still looking down at me like I'm an annoying toddler wanting to get his attention. "Weasley!"

"Sorry," He shrugs. "Finder's keepers."

Grumbling curses at him under my breath, I reach for my wand and point it at the cup, using the same Summoning Charm as him. As soon as the cup is back in my hands, I run for it. I hear Fred shouting my name behind me, but I don't turn back. I'm laughing like a maniac as I run to the opposite side when I'm suddenly stopped in my tracks. For a second, I cannot move. It's like an invisible force is restricting my entire body. And then I'm yanked back by said force until I'm back in my previous spot, right in front of Fred. He snatches the cup from me and grins. "Thank you, kind lady. Oh, and I'll be taking this, too."

He snatches my wand from my hand and begins to run away. My first instinct is to jump on his back, ignoring his protests as I try to reach for my wand first. He manages to shake me off before I can do so, but I don't give up. I'm still trying to reach for him, for anything, but between all that wrestling, I slip from the dock and fall into the freezing water. When I emerge, my whole body is shivering and my teeth are chattering uncontrollably. I look back at the dock and Fred is still standing there, his mouth open as he stares at me in shock. And then he bursts out laughing. "You'll p-pay for this!" I shout at him but he just keeps laughing.

I hear something behind me— it almost sounds like a waterfall. But as I turn around I don't see anything of the sort.

Instead, I see a tentacle. A huge tentacle coming at me from the water.

The color drains from my face, I'm sure, and I let out a loud scream. I scream so loud that I don't hear anything else. I think Fred is shouting something, and I'm not sure if It's at me or at the giant squid, but I don't find out. I shut my eyes close but my body is frozen in place. I can't move. It might be the fear, it might be the cold, it might even be both, but I can't move a muscle.

What a terrible way to die this is.

"(Y/N)," Fred calls from the dock but I can barely hear him. My heartbeats are too fast and too loud. "It's okay, It's gone! Just swim back to shore."

I'm too busy hyperventilating to listen to him. I was just face-to-face with a giant squid— a bloody giant squid. My mind is not processing anything at the moment and all I can feel is panic, still.

I hear a splash of water nearby and a pair of arms suddenly sneak around me below the water. A small gasp escapes my lips as Fred's face appears right of mine. As if by instinct, I wrap my arms around his neck. It's the closest we've ever been. "Look at me," he says but I don't need him to. I'm already getting lost in the soothingness of his eyes. "You're okay. Nothing or no one will hurt you as long as I'm here, okay?"

I nod wordlessly. I'm still shaking uncontrollably and I probably look like a mess right now. "I'm going to get us back to shore now," He informs carefully. "Is that okay with you?"

"Y-yes, please."

As soon as I give him the green light, he picks me up bridal style and begins to swim back to shore.

We get to land safe and sound, just as he had promised. I feel a huge sense of relief the moment my feet touch land, but my arms do not let go of him and his hands are still on my waist. When I turn to face him, he's already looking down at me. "See?" he says with a chuckle. His voice is soft and comforting. "It's all good now. You have nothing to worry about."

For a moment, I seem to forget that the boy standing in front of me is the boy that I've hated for all these years. I forget all the pranks he pulled on me and my housemates, all the times he enraged and mocked me. I forget about all of that and I don't know what comes over me but I lean up and I kiss him.

I can tell that Fred is surprised by how he freezes as soon as our lips touch, but once he composes himself, he responds. He pulls me closer and tightens his grip around me, which is probably the moment that I start losing my grip on reality. A wave of warmth washes through me and it feels... nice. Especially after going out for a midnight swim. His lips feel soft against mine and It's nearly impossible to stay away from them. My hands grip his hair and he lets out a low grunt against my mouth. The sound is sinful. It makes me want more of him.

We pull away after a while, though, and none of us say anything. My eyes flutter open almost at the same time as his, and for a moment It's like a sort of dream where nothing is real.

But of course, he has to ruin it.

"Wow," Fred's dazed smile widens. "What a nice way to say 'Thank you for saving my life'."

I blink a few times and it takes a moment to snap out of my trance, and when I do I am mortified. When I finally come to all my senses, I unwrap my arms from his neck and push him away. As soon as he lets go, I start to look for my wand. I finally find it lying next to the Cup but I don't even bother to grab that. It was a mistake to even try and steal it. It has already caused way too much unnecessary drama.

Plus, I just kissed Fred fucking Weasley.

My clothes are sticking to my skin and I'm still dripping from head to toe, which just adds to my distress, but I don't let it stop me as I run back to the castle. I hear Fred calling after me but I don't turn to look back at him. I am way too embarrassed and frustrated at myself to do so.

#fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #writing #imagine your ocs #writers on tumblr #fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley scenario

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lizthewriter · 11 months

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tell me we weren't just friends / pansy parkinson

PAIRING fem!gryffindor!reader x pansy parkinson

SUMMARY you and pansy have been dating for a while now, much to the distress of both your and pansy's friends. but while your friends have come to be accepting of your romantic choices, you couldn't say the same about pansy's friends. what happens when pansy tries to break off your relationship when her friends start to interfere?

TAGS fem!gryffindor!reader x pansy parkinson, reader has she/her pronouns, angst, takes place during half-blood prince, death eaters, pansy is secretly a soft lil baby 🥺🥺, implied sexual content, insecurity, assuring, kissing, pansy is 😳😳

QUOTE "all of your friends have been here for too long, / they must be waiting for you to move on," - friends by chase atlantic

WORD COUNT 1.7K

WRITTEN 10.24.2023

You hesitated as your glitter-ridden fingertips hovered over your eyelids. It had been three days since Pansy had broken up with you. She had avoided you every time you tried to find her after classes or corner her after dinner. She was acting so odd. It wasn't like her to just dump you and completely ignore you. Merlin, she couldn't even lay her eyes upon you. It was like she was guilty of something, or at least felt that way.

"I say good riddance." Ginny exited the bathroom in full glam, looking gorgeous as usual, and plopped down on your bed. "Now we can both be hot and single together. No girl troubles. Just you and me, our friends, and the dance floor."

You sighed, brushed the last bit of glitter over your eyelids and siphoning off the leftover residue from your fingers with your wand. You placed your eyeshadow pallette away, grabbing a lipstick and some gloss. "It's not good riddance, Gin. I really liked Pansy. I don't know what's going on with her . . . but I do have my suspicions." You added the final touches to your makeup before responding. "Malfoy. I know he has to with this, I just do."

Hermione snorted from her bed, nose stuck down a book. "Well, you and Harry make a charming duo. Tell me, are we going to make Malfoy the scapegoat to all our problems forever? Just based on simple hunches?"

"Harry's right about him," you responded with a snap, glancing towards Hermione. "He's always up to something . . . I wouldn't be surprised if he really is a Death Eater. Besides, I've seen him hanging around Pansy much more than usual as of late. I don't know . . . it just feels like something's wrong."

Ginny sighed, pushing herself up off of your bed. "Look, we're just looking out for you. I know how hurt you were when it happened . . . it would pain me to see my best friend's heart broken again." She grabbed your hands with a pout. "Come on," she whined. A smirk started to slowly grow on her face as she swayed your arms. "Let's go dancing, grab some drinks . . . have a good time, yeah? I promise you I will turn that frown upside down!"

"For someone who is supposedly so popular, you can be a bit dorky at times, you know that?"

Ginny laughed boisterously, giving your shoulder a playful shove before walking towards the door leading downstairs. "'Mione, you tagging along?"

"Goodness no," Hermione refuted, snuggling further into the warmth of her bed. "I'm afraid that the solace within my bed is far more entertaining then whatever you two plan on doing tonight. Do have fun without me though! And please don't come back to my dorm and regurgitate your dinner all over my bed like last time. If I want to see an odd lump of green paste, I'd help Hagrid feed the flobberworms."

"Will do! Come on, let's go!" Ginny started to pull you out of the dorm. "I'm not going to let you wallow in sadness at your own pity party, no, we are going to forget what happened and have fun! All right?" She didn't wait a beat for you to respond. "All right!"

The room shivered and shook at the might boom of the bass - the music could be felt reverberating through everyone's chest for certain. A large sweaty group of kids were gathered in the middle, plastic red cups help above their heads as they swayed and jumped around. The music, of course, was provided by none other than Pansy's friend Blaise. He had always been kinder to you then her other friends, but even now you had to say that there was something paticularly dry in his eyes that made you think Draco wasn't the only friend whispering into her ears.

As your eyes started to search the room, Ginny's voice jolted you from your train of thought. "No, no, no! No wallowing tonight! What did we just talk about?" She had a disapproving look written all across her face. You sighed and rolled your eyes, but a smile couldn't help but leech into your expression.

"No self pity party," you reiterated with a mock-irritated tone.

"That's right, so let's go grab some punch that has obviously been spiked and dance!" She dragged you off towards the drinks table, pouring you a generous amount of a rather dark green of a drink. Then it was off to the dance floor, Ginny shouting at you about allowing your body to flow with the music. All you could really think about was the stench of sweat hovering in the air and the alcohol from other people's cups being sloshed all around you.

You glanced towards Ginny, who now seemed to be preoccupied with eyeing and flirting a Slytherin girl from across the room. Your eyes took to your surroundings, searching for Pansy until they finally identified her at the top of the dorm steps. All it took was one glance and she dashed back up the stairs, leaving you confused.

You decided to leave Ginny behind and follow Pansy, ignoring the glares from other Slytherin girl as you walked up the steps. You promptly stepped over a couple who was doing things that were best suited to the privacy of their own bedroom, now entering the hall. You walked down, passing one, two, three, four, five doors before landing upon the sixth one.

You didn't even knock - you felt you had a right to get an answer from Pansy and you didn't want to be turned down again.

"What do you want?" Pansy asked harshly, her back to you. She sat at the edge of the bed, gripping the mattress with all her might. Her black bob of hair was tied up in an elaborate hairdo complete with a pin stuck through the bun at rhe top of her head. It gave her a much sharper, more intimidating look then before. Not that you could see it now. "I thought I told you I don't want to see you anymore."

"And I thought that I told you that I don't believe that. Not a single word of it." You sighed, any anger in you immediately gone, now only exasperated and dischiveled. "Pans, please. Did I do something wrong? Or does this . . . does it have to do with Malfoy?"

"Didn't I tell you to go away?" Pansy snapped, suddenly standing up from the mattress and turning around to face you with a nasty expression. She marched on over to you and encouraged you in the direction of the door. "Go on! Leave! I don't want you here -"

You grabbed the hand that she had been wildly gesturing with, your fingers wrapped around her slim wrist. The silver bands on her harm slid down to somewhere near her elbow. "I thought we promised each other - no lies. No deception. I know there's something wrong, I can see it. I know you well enough to know that what you did wasn't of your own accord, Pansy. Tell me what's wrong."

You urged her with your eyes, pleading with her to talk to you. Even with your makeup on, the bags under your eyes were noticeable enough. The desperation in your tone was enough to weaken Pansy, even if just for a moment. Her expression softened, her arm slackened in your grip. You quickly released her hand, which fell down to her side.

"I . . . I can't really talk about it." She bowed her head, her eyes avoiding your own. "I just - I'm involved with something . . . and I can't let you get hurt. I won't let you get hurt."

You furrowed your brows, thinking back to what Harry had told you, Ron, and Hermione. How suspicious Draco had been acting. You glanced down towards her left arm, which was tucked away behind her back as though she didn't even want it within your line of sight.

"You're not . . . Pans, tell me you're not . . ." Pansy shut her eyes tightly, turning away from you. You grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards you. She stumbled into your chest and you wrapped your arms around her. "You can't push me away. I don't care if I get hurt, I care about you."

Pansy sniffled, her arms weakly gripping your waist. "You're not . . . mad at me?"

"I could never be mad at you Pans."

"But I'm - I'm -"

"Just a girl, who was forced into joining something she doesn't agree with. You've done nothing wrong."

Pansy sniffled, her fist pressed against your upper chest to keep herself sturdy. She glanced up at you, searching your eyes for any malicious intent but failing to find any. Her other hand reached up, brushing against your cheek before falling back down to your shoulder. As though debating during a moment's hesitation, Pansy suddenly surged forward to meet your lips, bringing her hand back up to wrape around the name of your neck. The kiss was one of passion and desperation and gratitude. You weren't one to back down and pressed into her equally as hungry, gasping as her teeth met the soft flesh of your bottom lip. You pulled away, utterly breathless, noticing the shy, yet somehow almost sly expression on her face.

She watched her fingers as they trailed across your exposed collarbone, causing you to shiver. "I really am sorry, for pushing you away . . . maybe I can make it up to you?" The tone in her voice made it obvious as to what she was suggesting. You grinned, nearing her face again, your nose brushing against her own.

"Oh really? What did you have in mind?"

Pansy smirked, reaching out and gently pushing you down onto her bed so you were seated. She crawled into your lap, legs swung around either side of your waist. She hummed, pressing a kiss against your neck. "You're about to find out."

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