#hp fandom

[draykray]

Late night doodles <3

[kamarihaamu]

This is what you're supporting with all your fanworks and merch! This is what that new series you're excited to see will fund! You are killing us, all because you can't let go of a kids book series.

Has anyone figured out what’s so viscerally wrong with this woman yet

[ravenclaw-for-all-seasons]

His Soft Spot (10) - Mattheo Riddle

A/N: You can tell I’ve got a bit of free time with two updates today 😂

“Okay, but you’re lying to yourself if you think she couldn’t hex both of you into next week,” Theo said, popping a sugar quill into his mouth and gesturing at you with dramatic flair.

“Hex me with what, those little Ravenclaw book spells?” Enzo smirked.

“I don’t need spells,” you replied calmly, flipping a page in your book. “I have hands.”

Mattheo barked a laugh, head dropping against your shoulder. “Merlin, I love you.”

Theo clutched his chest. “She’s terrifying. You’ve corrupted her, Riddle.”

“She was like this when I found her,” Mattheo muttered proudly, tracing circles on your leg absentmindedly.

The four of you were splayed in a loose group across the sun-warmed courtyard, bags tossed to the side, books and wrappers and half-finished homework scattered around. Theo and Enzo started a deep in a debate about Quidditch politics, while you sat between Mattheo’s legs, his arms lazily draped around you.

It was soft. Easy. The kind of afternoon that felt rare.

Until—

“Honestly, though, what does she even see in him?”

The voice sliced through the calm like a blade.

You looked up instinctively.

Across the courtyard, a group of your fellow Ravenclaws were walking by — books in hand, smirks plastered across their polished, condescending faces. One of them — Christopher Nightingale, tall, smug, the kind of boy who treated his Prefect badge like a crown — glanced in your direction.

Right at you.

And sneered.

“Such a shame,” he said to his friend, just loud enough for all of you to hear. “Smart girl. Good reputation. Tragic taste in men.”

The air turned cold.

Theo stopped mid-sentence.

Enzo slowly lowered his sunglasses.

Mattheo… didn’t move.

But you felt it. The way his arms went rigid around you. The way his breath caught just slightly, his fingers twitching like they wanted something — a wand, a throat.

Your own stomach dropped.

You turned your head to look at him, already reaching for his hand, expecting the same reaction you’d seen a dozen times before — explosive fury, snarled threats, a fight no one could stop.

But—

Before he could even shift, two figures stood up.

Hard. Sharp. Immediate.

Theo and Enzo.

“What did you just say?” Theo called out, too lightly. Too calmly.

The Ravenclaws paused, clearly surprised.

Enzo dusted imaginary dirt off his sleeves, walking forward a few steps. “Repeat it, Nightingale. I dare you.”

Christopher blinked. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Well, you were talking about someone who’s sitting with us,” Theo said, rolling up his sleeves now, voice cool and clinical. “Which means you were talking to us. That’s how it works, genius.”

Mattheo didn’t move. Not even a twitch.

His gaze stayed locked on yours.

“Don’t look over there,” he said, voice low, soothing. “Look at me.”

You blinked. “They’re going to fight.”

“They’ve got it,” he murmured, cupping your cheek. “Theo’s been waiting for an excuse.”

You flicked your gaze to the side again, despite his hands on your face.

Christopher was rolling his eyes now. “Look, I don’t have time to deal with Slytherin goons—”

CRACK.

Theo’s fist connected with his face so fast no one saw it coming.

Gasps erupted from the nearby students.

Christopher stumbled back, clutching his nose. “You idiot—”

And Enzo stepped in without hesitation.

“Call us whatever you want,” he growled, eyes glittering, “but don’t you ever open your mouth about her again.”

Another boy tried to intervene. Enzo shoved him back with a single, well-practiced hit.

The Ravenclaws backed off quickly after that, dragging Christopher with them — blood trickling from his nose, furious and humiliated, while half the courtyard whispered behind their hands.

Theo was breathing hard, knuckles red. Enzo cracked his neck.

“I hate Ravenclaws like that,” Enzo muttered.

“Pretentious little shits,” Theo added.

Mattheo hadn’t even stood.

His eyes were still on you, completely unbothered by the chaos ten feet away.

He ran his thumb under your eye gently. “Don’t look at them. They don’t deserve your attention.”

You were still a little stunned. “They punched him.”

“They love you,” Mattheo said simply. “Not like I do. But they care. And you’re ours.”

You flushed, leaning into his touch.

He kissed your temple. “It’s fine. It’s over. Breathe.”

Your eyes dropped to his mouth.

“You really weren’t going to fight him?”

“Oh angel, I was two seconds from losing my mind,” Mattheo said, half-laughing. “But then I thought, they never get to be the first to swing. And they’ve been wanting to. For weeks.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and Mattheo kissed you — soft, slow, grounding — like it didn’t matter that there was blood on the stones nearby.

“Your taste in men’s not tragic,” he whispered against your lips. “It’s divine.”

You laughed, pressing your forehead to his.

From behind you, Theo called, “Are we getting detention for that?”

“Absolutely,” Enzo said. “And I’m not even sorry.”

Mattheo called over without looking, “I’ll take the blame.”

“No,” Theo said smugly, wiping blood off his hand. “This one’s mine.”

Mattheo grinned into your hair. “Told you.”

You leaned back into his arms, feeling the tension ebb out of your shoulders as he pulled you tighter against him, resting his chin on your head.

“They’ve got you too now,” he murmured. “Not just me.”

And you smiled — because for the first time, it felt like being loved by Mattheo Riddle didn’t just mean having one protector.

It meant having three.

And woe betide anyone who ever made the mistake of crossing any of them.

[atheonora]

Bad ending...

[velvet4510]

FYI Draco not wanting to kill Dumbledore isn’t cowardice, it’s him having a genuine moral conscience and an instinctive aversion to taking a life, which is way more than can be said about a good many characters in Harry Potter, including his own parents and aunt, none of whom have any moral issues with doing a fascist psycho’s dirty work (nor does Snape, honestly; remember Snape only left the Death Eaters because of Lily, not because of any realization that it’s wrong to commit genocide). Plus Draco’s wand, the wand that CHOSE him, is unicorn core, which is canonically the most difficult to turn to the Dark Arts; that kind of wand would never choose someone who is inherently evil. I’m baffled by people who say Draco’s hesitance in killing Dumbledore is somehow another addition to his admittedly long list of flaws; I guess I didn’t realize that discovering you don’t want to commit murder is a bad thing that should be condemned. Haters say that fans invented Draco’s potential for redemption and he actually has no good in him whatsoever, but those haters clearly have not truly read the text.

[conangray-hp-fest]

HEY LOOK!

Now that we have your attention, only 8 more hours to sign up for the Conan Gray Harry Potter Fest!

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[yuunarii-arii]

ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ’ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ’ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ… who would always watch men come and go from the family estate with carriages filled of bouquets, jewels, and the finest gowns, those from wealthy standing with their heads held high as they stride into her home, searching for the attention of her mother. Now, those same men are found leaving with nothing but a small quiet smile and hooded eyes, walking out of the large iron gates penniless in a dazed spellbound state.

ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ’ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ... who stood beside her mother as ministers, directors, and CEOs surround the famous witch, attempting to impress her with their new endeavors and purchases. While others shower the beautiful enchantress with complements and praises in the hopes to entertain her in a more private setting. She observed as her mother charmed her audience with sultry words from her euphony voice, while each and every one of them complied to her every word as if… they were under a spell of some sorts.

ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ’ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ... was raised by her mother for as long as she could remember; the estate was void of any men or father figures, only her mother and house elves present in the household. She was taught at a young age to always perceive to be as delicate and beautiful as a rose; a rose that entrances the viewer with its renowned beauty, in which this beauty grows the sharpest thorns along its stem and leaves a lasting sting if one is not careful.

ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ’ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ... who struts through the halls of Hogwarts with her head held high and her back poised quite perfectly as eyes gaze at her form; most in admiration, others for lustful desires, and some in hatred. However, no matter what others say, she’ll remain the little minx she is and charm the hearts of many; and quite possibly the heart of a young man from a certain group of Slytherins.

ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ’ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ... who was told by her mother to “allow a man to believe they control you, however, in reality it is truly the woman who leads as the ‘man of the house.’” This has held to be the base of everything that she’s done, everything her mother built for her future had not gone to waste, she learned to be as delicate as a flower, cunning like a snake, and as wise as the stars that paint the night sky, and she continues her mother’s legacy as the beautiful daughter of an Enchantress…

all works...

to be continued...

↬Credits & Disclaimers

a/n: I hope you enjoyed reading this! it's my first time writing a reader AU, so it may not be that well put together. If you have any feedback on how I could improve then please let me know! (〜￣▽￣)〜

Short line divider by @cursed-carmine Line divider + pearl divider by @enchanthings-a

©yuunari-arii. All works posted under my name belong to me. Please do not copy, claim, republish, or translate my work anywhere else.

[ironkoalastrawberry]

I don't remember if Harry's height was mentioned in the book or not, so if something is not mentioned in the book but is in the movie, it's canon. So if Harry is the same height as Daniel Radcliffe (not including the new series) and Albus is very similar to Harry, and if his height is a combination of his parents, considering the height of the Weasleys in the movie, they are tall, then most likely Albus is taller than Harry.And of course Harry was not well-nourished and well-groomed at the Dursleys', but not so with Albus And if Draco is the same height as Tom Felton, and his son is either the same height or a little shorter or a little taller than him. And the actress who played Astoria, I think, was of average height in the movie. And in the theater, most of the time, the actor Scorpius is taller, but not by much. So we can almost conclude that Scorpius and Albus probably don't have a huge height difference, but Scorpius is probably a little taller. For example, 4 or 5 cm

dance lesson…

[thatidiots-art]

eileen <333

[memoracelia]

remus trips over his own two feet and its sexy as fuck

[ravenclaw-for-all-seasons]

His Soft Spot (9.5) - Mattheo Riddle

A/N: A continuation of the broom breaking incident and Mattheo finding out that you didn’t actually do it…

The Slytherin common room was dimly lit, the enchanted candles casting rippling shadows across the stone walls like light on deep water. You sat curled up on the black leather loveseat, legs tucked beneath you, a thick blanket draped around your shoulders — not because you were cold, but because Mattheo insisted you stay warm.

Across from you, he paced — shirt untucked, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair tousled from where he’d been tugging at it. The faintest crease lined his brow.

“You hungry, angel?” he asked suddenly, stopping mid-step to look at you.

“I’m okay.”

“You sure? I’ll owl the kitchens.”

You shook your head with a smile. “I promise. I’m good.”

He stared at you for a beat, then sighed and sat beside you, pulling your legs into his lap like it was instinct. One of his hands absently traced circles on your shin.

You didn’t know how long the pampering would last, but ever since the “broken broom” debacle earlier that day, Mattheo had transformed into an even more intense version of himself. He hadn’t let you carry your own books, refused to let you sit alone at dinner, and when a second-year Hufflepuff bumped into you outside the Great Hall, he looked ready to commit a war crime.

You’d never seen him this attentive.

“I’m sorry I yelled,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the edge of your mouth. “I’ve never raised my voice at you before. I should’ve known something was off.”

You hesitated, heart twisting.

This was the perfect moment to tell him the truth.

You’d wrestled with it all afternoon. Yes, you’d agreed to take the fall. But seeing him so guilty, so desperately trying to make it up to you, made your stomach churn. You didn’t want to lie to him — not when he was looking at you like you were his whole bloody universe.

“Mattheo,” you said quietly, brushing your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I need to tell you something.”

He immediately sat up straighter. “What is it?”

You exhaled slowly. “I didn’t break your broom.”

Silence.

He blinked. “What?”

“I didn’t break it,” you repeated. “Enzo did. He tripped and fell on it. Theo was there too — he saw it happen. They asked me to take the fall because… because you wouldn’t be mad at me.”

Mattheo’s entire body went still.

“They what?” His voice dropped, dangerous.

“I didn’t want to lie,” you added quickly. “But Enzo looked so terrified, and Theo said you’d burn down the pitch if you knew, and I thought maybe… maybe I could take it and we’d all just move on. I didn’t expect you to yell.”

Mattheo stood up, fury already radiating off him like heat waves. “They used you.”

“They were scared,” you offered, trying to calm him. “They thought it was harmless.”

“They let you cry,” he hissed, pacing now like a caged animal. “They watched me shout at you—you—and said nothing.”

You reached for his hand. “It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not,” he snapped, but not at you. Never at you. “They knew exactly what they were doing. They used you as a shield.”

The common room door creaked open, as if summoned by fate, and in strolled Lorenzo and Theo — mid-laugh, clearly unaware of the storm waiting for them.

Mattheo turned slowly.

Theo stopped short. “…Uh-oh.”

Enzo blinked. “You told him, didn’t you?”

“I told him,” you confirmed.

Mattheo’s voice was eerily calm. “You made her take the blame.”

Theo raised his hands. “Listen, mate, it was all Enzo’s idea—”

“Hey!” Enzo protested.

But Mattheo had already closed the distance between them.

“You watched me yell at her,” he growled, jabbing a finger into Theo’s chest. “You let her cry. And you stood there.”

Theo opened his mouth, but Mattheo turned to Enzo next, his face thunderous. “You knew I’d never hurt her. You counted on it.”

Enzo swallowed hard. “We thought it’d be fine! I mean—you are kind of terrifying sometimes—”

“That’s the point,” Mattheo snapped. “I’m terrifying to everyone but her. She’s the only person I’d never hurt, and you weaponized that like it was nothing.”

Enzo flinched, but Mattheo wasn’t done.

“I don’t give a damn about the broom,” he spat. “That could be replaced. But you made her lie for you. You let her take the fall, carry the guilt, because you knew I’d bend for her.” He paused, then added in a low, deadly voice: “You made her the collateral.”

Theo held up his hands. “Okay. You’re mad. Fair. We were wrong. But maybe—maybe no hexes tonight?”

Mattheo didn’t hex anyone.

Instead, he turned on his heel, walked back to you, and sat down with a huff, pulling you back into his arms.

“You’re lucky she asked me not to kill you both,” he muttered darkly, running a hand over your hair. “Otherwise we’d be picking Lorenzo’s teeth out of the fireplace.”

Enzo gave you a thumbs-up. “You’re seriously his goddamn kryptonite.”

“She is,” Mattheo murmured, too focused on tucking you into his side to even pretend he wasn’t proud of it. “And you’d do well to remember that.”

“Noted,” Theo said, sitting down cautiously across the room. “So… you’re not mad anymore?”

Mattheo didn’t even look at him. He just pressed a kiss to your temple, eyes dark with something soft and dangerous all at once. “I’m not mad about the broom. I’m mad you thought she was disposable.”

And with that, you smiled against him — warm, safe, and fiercely protected.

[cuntnikida]

Someone please draw this. i need to see this.

Hagrid definitely saved Harry’s life when he told him not to buy the goddamn solid gold cauldron. Can you imagine Harry showing up with that to Snape’s lesson. The books would’ve ended there, because Snape would have killed Harry.

[midnight-onyx]

haiiiii prettyyy hope it’s not too much to ask but it would mean the world to me if you could write some hurt/comfort smut with regulus???? maybe regulus x hufflepuff!reader who he thinks is too good for him??? thank you sm lovie!!!! xx

A/N: Ofccc!! I hope you like it! <3

(I may have been ovulating while writing this)

CW| 2.3k words, smut 18+ MDNI, fluff, fem!reader, no use of name or y/n, established relationship, swearing, protected p in v, praise, dirty talk, gentle touches, kissing, fingering, orgasm denial, rough sex, pet names, wholesome filth.

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

You and Regulus are splayed out on his four poster bed, the green curtains drawn even though the dorm is abandoned. You’re practically laying on top of him, ear to his chest as you listen to his heart beat, head rising and falling with his breath. His arms are wrapped around your torso, hugging you gently but firmly, almost afraid you’ll get up and leave at any moment. 

It’s a Saturday night and it was the Slytherins’ turn to throw a party; the gentle thumping of music and the cheering of students can be heard from his dorm. Your eyes are closed and your breath is steady as you sink into the comfort he brings you.

Regulus shifts slightly, you don’t pay much attention until his hands move down a little, resting on your lower back. You open your eyes slowly and look up at him but he’s already looking down at you, a slight sparkle of admiration in his grey eyes that he doesn't let shine through often. 

You smile softly up at him, your Hufflepuff characteristics showing through as usual. He keeps his usual poise composure but cracks a small smile, something he only ever lets you see. 

He keeps a hand on your lower back, the other slowly trailing up your spine, stopping once he’s cupping the back of your neck. “What did I do to deserve you.” he says softly, the words coming out more as a statement than a question. 

Your bright smile widens a little more as you place a gentle hand on his cheek, “Nothing, simply you being you is enough for me Regulus.” 

Regulus shakes his head, like he doesn’t believe the sweet words leaving your lips, hoping that if it’s a dream he’ll never wake up from it. “You really are too fucking good for me love.”

She playfully glares at him, narrowing her eyes in a gentle warning, “Don’t say that Reggie, you know that’s not true.”

He just looks at you, still skeptical of your words but he just can’t find it within him to argue with you. His eyes trace your features before flickering between your eyes and lips. His own lips part as he looks at you with love and something deeper, something unspoken, like you’re a sweet craving he can’t shake. Before you know it he’s pulling you in with the hand that was preemptively placed on the back of your neck. 

Your lips collide with his gently at first, the tension slowly but surely snapping between the two of you as the kiss becomes more hungry, more desperate, more passionate. The hand that was on your neck trails further up, gently entangling itself in the strands of your hair. The other hand reaching the hem of your shirt before slipping beneath it, dragging it up as his hand trails up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

You both pull away for a moment, trying to catch your breaths. You look at him with dilated pupils, heavy breaths leaving your plumped lips. He returns the same look, a slightly smug expression tugging at his lips, “You’re so damn gorgeous, you know that?”

Your cheeks flush slightly, a rosy tint covering them which only eggs him on more. He gently flips you over onto your back so you’re looking up at him, your head resting on the pillows. 

He leans in, his lips ghosting your neck as he lets out a breath sending a shiver down your spine before he speaks, “Merlin I love you, everything about you, your body, your voice, the fact that you’re the only one who’s been so gentle with me.” He kisses your neck softly, returning the same gentleness you’ve shown him. 

Your breaths come out a little heavier, labored as Regulus takes him time, moving slowly down your neck until he reaches the collar of your shirt. He hesitantly moves away, his gaze meeting yours as he sits up, unbuttoning your shirt with strained control, like it’s taking excessive effort for him to not just rip it off you. 

Once he reaches the last button you push yourself up, making it easier to discard the shirt. He takes it off slowly, as if unwrapping a Christmas present he’d been waiting far too long for. “So fucking pretty.” he mutters more to himself, his eyes flickering between your face and newly revealed skin, your bra the only thing covering your upper half. He leans in again, scattering open-mouthed kisses on your chest. 

You can’t help but look down at him, entranced by the way he makes you feel, a warmth rising in your lower abdomen that only he could elicit from you. One of your hands wanders, reaching for his dark curls, tangling your fingers in it. 

He places a hand on your side, his cold rings making you jump slightly in comparison to your warm skin. It moves to your back, undoing the clasp of your bra with skilled ease, he quickly discards it in the same direction as the shirt. 

His pace quickens, his strained control faltering even more as his lips connect with one of your nipples, switching between sucking and gently nipping at it before giving the other the same attention. Even with his quickened movements you can’t help but feel as if everything is moving in slow motion. You’d been waiting for this moment for what felt like eternity. 

Many months ago, as you and Regulus were lying in bed, he mumbled words into your ear, “One day I’ll show you how much I love you, I’ll show you just what you do to me, love.” He had no idea you were still awake, you never told him that you heard his words, you simply just kept your patience and waited for him to act on his promise. 

Snapping back from your moment of reminiscing, your eyes land on his bare upper body. Your gaze meets his, a dark glimmer in his eyes as a combination of love and lust pools in his eyes. An ever so slight smirk presents itself on his porcelain features, “Thinking?” His voice is raspy, matching the raw emotion in his expression. 

You nod, a small smile on your face, “You could say that.” 

“Tell me what’s on your mind, angel.” His voice is slightly lower, deeper than you’ve heard it before. He maintains eye contact as his fingertips trail painstakingly slow down your torso until it reaches the top of your skirt. 

Your breath catches in your throat at the intimacy of the moment, “I never told you but I was awake that one time you were talking to me, telling me that eventually you’d show me how much you love me and stuff.”

Regulus chuckles darkly, it sends a chill down your spine but it adds fuel to the growing fire in your core. He leans in, his lips right beside your ear as he whispers, “I knew you were awake, I’m not a fool my love. I’ve been waiting for the day you decide to break, to want this as badly as I do,” he places a small kiss to your ear, “but clearly I’m weaker than I thought I was.” 

“You’re not weak Reggie,” You bite your lip softly, every little thing he’s doing adds more to your already riled up state,  your voice comes out shaky and more unstable than you thought it would but your words still carry truth. 

He hooks his fingertips under your skirt and panties, unmoving, looking at you as if silently communicating, asking if you really want this. 

“Please.” You say softly, breathlessly, your heart fluttering with the intimacy of the moment. 

“You beg as if I wouldn’t give you the whole world, love.” and with that he’s pulling off your remaining clothes, leaving you completely bare beneath him. It brings an unfamiliar vulnerability to your chest but it’s not unpleasant, knowing you can put all your trust in him with confidence that he won’t take advantage of it. 

Once your clothes are discarded off to the side he’s on top of you again, his lips dancing with yours again but it’s more heated, more passion-filled, like it’s the first time he’s ever kissed you. One arm supports him while the other moves down your body again. He spreads your thighs, his hand resting on the back side of your knee just holding you open like a book; his lips never leaving yours. 

Slowly his hand inches toward where you need him the most but it isn’t enough, unintentionally you let out a small whine into his mouth, he breaks the kiss, “C’mon love, you waited this long, can’t you wait a little longer?” his tone is condescending, but ultimately he decides to have mercy on you, tracing a single fingertip to your core. He coats it with your wetness before bringing it up to your clit and rubbing tight, controlled circles with skilled precision. 

“So wet, such a good fucking girl for me.” he whispers against your lips. Your hips buck, letting out heavy breaths and small moans as the pent up tension snaps within you. You drape an arm over the back of his neck, your lips connecting with his once again, the other hand clutching the sheets of his bed. 

You gasp into the kiss as he slowly sinks a finger in, giving you time to adjust before slowly pistoning it, hitting all the right places as his tongue fights for dominance with yours. He gently adds another finger, stretching you out, prepping you. The pleasure is dizzying as he curls his fingers to hit the perfect spot that has you seeing stars. The pleasure builds until you’re on the edge, his mouth muffling your moans and whimpers before the pleasure is gone altogether. 

You open your eyes to see him fumbling with his belt buckle. Your gaze meets his and there’s a hunger in his eyes you’ve never seen before, his collected demeanor completely crumbled. 

Once the button is undone along with the zipper he reaches under the pillow, his hand emerging with a condom between his fingertips. Your eyes widen slightly, “You always just have that there?” you say with a short, playful laugh. 

He smiles smugly, just enough to show his teeth, “You never know.” he says before pushing his pants and boxers down just enough, tearing the condom wrapper and rolling it onto his length. 

He spreads your legs more, one hand on the back of your thigh while the other guides the tip to your entrance. He gives you one last look just in case, once you give him the go ahead he pushes in slowly, giving you time to adjust as he struggles to maintain his composure. “Merlin, you really are too good for me in every way, angel. Fuck.”

You suck in a gasp of air at the feeling, chest rising and falling irregularly as he stops at the halfway point, giving you a moment. He leans over you, his lips parted and he’s breathing heavily. You’d never seen him so vulnerable, he always had his walls up in some sort of way, but in this moment it’s just you and him. A newfound connection being formed by the second between you. 

He intertwines his fingers with yours, pinning your hand beside your head while the other supports him. He slowly pushes the rest of his length in, bottoming out and giving you another moment to adjust before he’s slowly thrusting in and out. 

“I’m sorry.” He says softly, barely above a whisper as if he's telling you a secret. 

You flash him a confused expression considering he has nothing to be apologizing for, “For wha-” your words are cut short as he thrusts into you with an unforgiving pace, unable to control himself anymore. It was completely unlike him but you loved every moment of it. 

You practically scream out at the rough pace but he untangles his fingers from yours, covering your mouth with it instead. He leans in, his lips beside your ear as he speaks directly into it, “I don’t care how loud that party is or how preoccupied everyone is,” his tone lowers even more, “I can’t risk having them hear what’s for me and me alone. You’re too good for them to hear, angel.” The words leave his lips in a possessive growl, like he’s drilling the fact you’re his into his own head. 

You both are practically drowning in each other, your back arching so that your chests are pressed against each other. He places sloppy kisses and small hickeys on your neck as you both get lost in the pleasure. 

Your head is practically spinning with unexplainable pleasure, nails pressing crescents into the flesh of his back in an attempt to ground yourself. Before you know it you’re teetering on the edge, gasping for air, “Reggie, I’m gonna-”  your words are muffled by his hand but you don’t even need to finish the sentence. 

“I know love, I know. Cum for me angel.” His voice raspy, almost strained and it’s all it takes to push you over the edge, white-hot pleasure coursing through your body. You clench around his length, back arching off the bed as your legs shake from the intensity. Your clenching triggers his own orgasm, thrusting through it until he finishes in the condom. 

You both are breathing heavily, he collapses on top of you but still holds himself up enough to not crush you. He removes the hand over your mouth, replacing it with his lips again, his usual tender and gentle demeanor returning. “You really are way, way too good for me.” he says softly, his usual calm and collected expression in his eyes again as he pulls out of you. 

You chuckle breathlessly, still trying to regulate your breath, “After that? I think we’re perfect for each other.” 

He quickly cleans the both of you up, helping you redress considering your already sore muscles. You lay tangled with each other for a little while you talk, attempting to drill it into his head that you aren’t too good for him. After a while you two decide to head down to the party in the common room that’s only grown louder the later it gets. 

[velvet4510]

Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy have many differences yet they have the same mindset toward their love interests which is “nobody’s allowed to hate on this person but me!” Ron makes fun of Hermione constantly and Draco makes fun of Harry constantly. But Ron talks back to Snape whenever Snape insults Hermione and Draco shoots down the entire school’s theory that Harry is the Heir of Slytherin. And when things get deadly in the last book, Ron screams “HERMIONE!” at the top of his lungs as she’s being tortured and Draco screams “DON’T KILL HIM!” at the top of his lungs as Crabbe and Goyle are attacking Harry.

[periwinklebluelibran]

The Tom Riddle shipping BAFFLES me

Propoganda I'm not falling for:

● HP women being hated and bashed by misogynistic fans everywhere.

○ Ginny being called ugly or fat or a slag or a love potioning criminal just because Harry ended up with her and not the ferret or his best friend, who he himself identifies as a sister.

○ Hermione being called a Ron-obsessed crybaby just because she dared to cry when she was sad and was emotionally mature.

○ Lily Potter's identity being erased just so that people can push their Death Eater/James Potter ships when he died for her.

○ Molly being bashed as the money hungry, manipulative woman when she took Harry as her own, even though she had little to share.

○ Tonks being called ugly or temperamental or incompetent when she dared to love a man who didn't love himself.

● Fanon Draco Malfoy.

● Any form of Weasley bashing.

● Tom Riddle being shipped with ANYONE.