#wizarding world x reader

[jackalope-patronus]

summary :: very very soft smut of virgin Sebastian and MC reader. With plot! With feelings!

warning :: seventh year. Very soft, virgin Sebastian and reader, touching over clothes, dry humping, oral f receiving, raw, references to the angst that happened in the game, purity culture (yes, it's the 1890s), lots of love and fluffy stuff. Also there's a spider bite. Possible mistakes, I wasn’t able to check over the entire thing.

note :: I’m forever a hater of rough smut, ‘you like that, you dirty slut?’ uhm no, why are you calling me names!!

“Sebastian, down here.”

“Found something?”

“There’s a cave connected to her home.”

Isidora Morganach's home, or at least one of her homes. You weren't quite sure. It had plenty of notes and discoveries on her adventures travelling after graduating from Hogwarts, some keepsakes from other countries, and plenty of chests already emptied out. The home was ancient and very worse for wear, the roof had long since cave in, allowing the rain from above to patter against both you and Sebastian. You had spotted a deep cavern within the corner of her living-room. Big enough to fit the both of you.

"After you," said Sebastian, gesturing to the dark, black entrance.

You would've retorted, if you hadn't felt so seriously. It had been two years since you'd dealt with anything related to Isadora and the sudden discovery that one of her homes was merely a broomstick flight away from Hogwarts felt troubling to your intuition.

Sebastian could practically see the tension in your body when you first told him.

"I heard rumours of a home that could've belonged to Isadora nearby the castle."

“Isadora?” He choked on the food he’d served himself.

"Yes. I'm going to go and search it after dinner." Something troubling swirled in your eyes and Sebastian jumped to distract you from it.

"I'll come with you." He said.

"This might be something I'll have to do on my own, Sebastian." You stated. If there was a trial or something related to ancient magic, he wouldn't be able to do anything. Professor Fig never could. You'd be better off alone. 

"You won't even take me as a chaperone?" Sebastian asked, grinning at you. 

It was that grin that had him coming with you to the half rubble household, in the pouring rain, at the dead of night.

Your search was cut short when the moment you reached the end of the slope into the cave, a six legged beast jumped you. You recognised it as a hatchling, small for its kind but big enough to knock you off your feet. You attempted to reach for your wand but the large pincers found your arm, the hollow fangs sinking into your tissue. A sharp wail escaped you as the venom soaked into your muscle.

"Incendio!" The spider was thrown off of you with a quick ball of flame and Sebastian replaced it, kneeling at your side and pulling you up.

"It got me." You hissed, revealing your torn up sleeve. 

He cursed, then took your wrist in his large hand and pushed back the fabric of your sleeve, bringing your numbing arm to his mouth. He latched on before you could quite make sense of his actions, he sucked twice against your raw skin and then spat to the floor next to him. Again, he sucked on the bite then spat out what you hoped was most of the venom, and what looked to be some of your blood, and perhaps some rainwater.

You couldn’t be sure the flush falling over your face was from the venom or not, but the dizziness that followed suggested the first.

Through the haze of the sickening poison flooding your system and the feverish puffs of air you let out, you could hone in on Sebastian’s final part from your irritated skin. A thin, watery string of spit connected him to your arm before it broke and he turned to gauge the effects of the venom on your face.

“Wiggenweld?” You had some faint idea he had said something else, but you weren’t sure.

“My pocket.” You huffed, eye-line peering up at the dark, rocky ceiling dripping rain.

You recalled another flush passing over you, whilst desperate hands pat over your sides, legs and chest. Soon enough, the hands found what they were looking for. After that, a vile pressed to your lips and you felt yourself return to your pained body. Your legs must’ve given out, because Sebastian held you against himself, one hand cupped around your jaw.

“I’m alright.” You croaked, his hold loosening and giving you space. Your stiff legs ached at your weight and you patted your pockets for another wiggenweld potion, but came up empty. You let out a tired groan.

“Let’s head back.” He said. 

"But we've yet to look everywhere." You gazed around the dark and rocky cave, slithers of other spiders echoing through the darkness.

"The house won't be going anywhere, we can come back when you're well again."

Still, you shook your head. “It’s the middle of the night, we’ll surely be caught by some prefect if I’m in this state.”

“It’s worth it, we’ve got to get you another potion and get you right.”

So reluctantly, you let Sebastian help you out of the cave and onto your broom, keeping a weary eye on you until you snuck back into the castle.

Sebastian muttered something about peeves when you entered, your arm around his shoulder and a light hand on your side, keeping you steady as though he was a friend helping you home after a night of drinking. You needed a brewing stand to rid you of this horrid, sickening ache and the fuzziness behind your eyes.

"What in merlin's name..." A nearby wall began to shift, swirls of a door began to form and you had never been so relieved to see the entrance to the room of requirement form for you. It felt like a dear friend coming to your aid. 

"Inside, come on." You ushered, pulling Sebastian along. He held you closer, mumbling 'careful.' at your quickness.

Sebastian sat you down carefully on the closest thing he could, which happened to be a plush settee that you couldn't remember placing when you were last here. Perhaps the room had conjured it up just for you.

"My brewing stand, it should be over there." You blurted.

"You've really decked this place out." He muttered and behind you, you could hear the sizzling of a potion brewing. Sebastian had followed you into the room once or twice before, but not enough to be acquainted to it like you were. An uncomfortable minute passed before Sebastian handed you the potion which spread relief through your body once you drunk it.

He watched your eyes keenly for any haze or sickly glossiness. "Another?" He asked. 

"No I'm alright." You nodded. He sighed thankfully and you smiled at his relief. “I’ve never known you to be the doting type, Sebastian.” You uttered contently, placing down the empty vile.

“Well, you’ve never needed doting.” He rounded the large settee and sat beside you. 

"I never thought you had it in you to be so… gentle."

The word stunned Sebastian, but only for a moment. "Me? Not gentle? How could you ever come to think so low of me?" He jested, an eyebrow raised your way.

"Apologies, I don't know what could've convinced me otherwise." A lot lurked behind your retort, and although you could still see a grin on his face, Sebastian's shoulders deflated. "I'm only joking." You quickly added. "You've always had a soft side, I've been especially reaping the benefits of it in our recent time spent together."

"Well, I'd ought to start treating you well some time in our friendship." He continued, a playfulness added to his somewhat serious statement.

You hummed, although awkwardly. After fifth year, Sebastian had somewhat clung to you. Soloman was dead, Anne had left and his relationship with Ominis had never been so broken. All his time, his loyalty, his effort and his love was directed to you because, plainly, you were the only one who stuck around. You were the only one he'd give it all to, whether you were completely aware of it or not.

So when the two of you tipped around his less than stellar actions towards you, you could see the guilt wrack him. See his regret. Inwardly, Sebastian wished to scrub the memories of his slights against you from your brain. He wasn't that boy anymore. He wasn't so obsessed with finding a cure for Anne, driven by his one-track mind. No, now you had become his obsession. His motivations now revolved around you and he pursued you just as relentlessly as he pursued that cure for Anne, maybe even more so. Perhaps he is the same boy from two years ago.

You glanced at him, his eyes downcast to the marble floor. "I know you always cared for me. Just... Sometimes you had a funny way of showing it." You played with the hem of your skirt, rubbing the fabric between your index and forefinger. "You're a true friend Sebastian, don't doubt that."

"You're one to talk." He suddenly grinned, arm stretching out on the camel back of the sofa, close enough anyone else would consider Sebastian had his arm around you.

"Am I?" You smiled, less wary.

"The entire cohort is deeply in love with you. Perhaps some of the teachers too. I'm sure Professor Wesley would give just about anything to adopt you, and I've never seen Sharp so kind to someone. Truely, it's terrifying."

You shook your head, laughing. "Oh stop, there are plenty who don't like me. What about Imelda?"

"Don't be daft, she'd drop just about anything for you I'm sure." He hummed, smiling at the idea (although it made his affection towards you feel slightly less significant. Still, you were here with him, not Imelda or any other adoring fan you had. That must've counted for something). "You might consider me a charmer, but you're like an Amortentia potion given life."

"Compliments like these are precisely why I enjoy spending time with you Sebastian." You said. Sebastian chuckled lowly.

"Cheeky." He commented.

"So then, can I consider you deeply in love with me too? You did say everyone in our cohort." Daring, but you enjoyed the rush of flirting with Sebastian whenever the opportunity arose.

"Imelda, the teachers, even Ominis and yes, me."

The space between you somehow lessened, the teasing drawing your faces together. In a moment of weakness, yours eyes darted to his smiling lips. He’d caught the glance, igniting a wild tinkle in his eyes. He knew where your thoughts lie and you could see it in the way he looked at you. He took your cheek in his hand and you retracted into nervousness, opening your mouth to say something before Sebastian leaned in to pressed a kiss to your lips.

It felt curt at first, because Sebastian broke away too soon, perhaps because he realised to gravity of his action. But you trailed after him, following his lips and giving him the desire to kiss you again. So he did.

This time, with the assurance of you kissing him back, passion bloomed.

He rested an eager hand on your side, his other still holding your face. His fingers threaded through your hair as his lips pushed into you, with longing and need. It wasn’t messy, nor sloppy, just long moments of intimacy between quick breaths.

After a quick separation, Sebastian dove into you again, furthering his weight into you until you relented and laid back against the sofa, pulling him down with you whilst you kissed.

You utterly lost yourself in the swirls of emotions, drowning in the desire to just be with him, and feel him. It felt hot, light, but above all it felt natural.

Both hands now cupped your sides, pressing you into the pillows. His mouth moved to your cheek, then jaw and you attempted to breath out and slow your racing pulse but the sound that left you was much more vocal than you wanted it to be.

Sebastian stopped and you quickly sobered from the passion. He raised himself off of you, and you jolted up.

He wiped a hand over his mouth. “This is… compromising.” He muttered whilst you were being brought back to the reality of what you were doing.

Kissing Sebastian— kissing anyone!—Alone in a room together, with wandering hands and hot bodies. It was completely and utterly shameful. It wasn’t as though you were innocent children who could get away with linking arms or coupled rendezvous, the two of you were about to graduate and enter ‘proper society’ and however forward thinking the magical word was compared to the muggle word, hooking up with your dearest friend with no ring was still considered dishonourable.

“It is.” You nodded, wide eyed. Would you still be able to wear a white wedding dress after this? Was it allowed? What even was ‘being unclean’? Did making out count? The dizzying feeling returned. All you wanted to do was rewind time and stop yourself from ever making a peep so that Sebastian would’ve continued his journey down your body.

And clearly, Sebastian didn’t want his exploration to end either because his hands lingered around your uniform vest.

“Are you hot?” He asked, eyes dark and utterly taken by you.

“A little, yes.” You nodded, keenly watching his hands encompass the first button.

"May I?"

"Yes." You sighed shakily.

He was slow to thread the black buttons through their slits, opening your chest up to the cool air inside the room of requirement. It seemed the rain had also dampened the fabric underneath the vest, clinging it to your skin. The sight elicited a rough exhale from Sebastian whose reflex was to avert his gaze. He slid the vest off of you and rested his hands at your torso.

"Are you alright?" You asked in hopes to catch his eyes.

"Yes. I'm more than alright, actually." You would laugh if the comment hadn't made goosebumps rise on your skin. He finally returned to face you. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Yes.” You replied, with an embarrassing eagerness.

He returned from where he left you, kissing your jaw and then ear with such lightness it could’ve been a peck from a pixie. You weren’t sure what you expected, but the way he held you cried love and devotion. Treating your skin like porcelain, and your lips like a favourite dessert he needed to savour (lest he never eat it again). You supposed Sebastian would be a fast lover, a man who would take as he desired and give his all.

This was slow, relaxing, gentle and kind. Almost melancholy. As though with every simple kiss he pressed to your lips, he was apologising.

However you were done with apologies from Sebastian. You wanted his love without guilt.

So you took his face in your hands and kept him locked to your lips for a rhythmic kiss which had his hands clenching and his head feeling light from the rush of blood south. Now you could feel him adjusted to you, taking your lead.

Sebastian decided, when you whimpered at the sensation of his tongue sliding across your lip, that this moment would forever vex him during nights of loneliness.

You weren’t sure when, but his hand had found itself on your inner thigh, below the safeguard of your skirt and squeezing your leg in assurance. His thumb dragged over the dip on your stocking, so close to where you longed most.

As your tongue met his in a long swipe, he squeezed you again but this time the squeeze portrayed a promise, that he was going to touch you and draw pleasure from you.

Your heart skipped a beat, and the butterflies became too much to bear.

“Sebastian— I’m, I’m worried.” You gasped, breathing out a shaken breath.

His hands were away from you, almost in an instant and most unfortunately so was his mouth. “Then we should stop.”

“But I—” You couldn’t allow yourself to truely express you wanted more, wanted to continue and be enveloped by him. But he knew, like he always did, what you wanted.

So against his better judgment, Sebastian mumbled a quiet “Sorry.” To your previously untouched maidenhood, then found your body with his lips again.

He needed this. He loved you too much to stop.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” You asked meekly, as he kissed and sucked at the skin that peaked from your collar.

“I can’t say I’m experienced, but I know what I want to do.”

“What’s that?” You dared to inquire.

“Show you how dear you are to me.”

You whispered a too-soft 'okay' before laying down on your back, like a cat showing its belly to signify its trust. The gesture and the sight of you sprawled out for him, made Sebastian grab his clenched jaw and hide the red settling under his freckles.

You could see a reservation form— or perhaps it was an anxiousness to please swirling in his eyes. You couldn’t tell, but he watched you intensely as his hand traveled down, past your beating chest, over the knobs of your ribs until he dived under your skirt and made his stop at where you burned for him.

His thumb glided over your core and the space between you two felt as though you were on a stage and Sebastian was the only audience member. You had gasped and excitement flickered in his dark eyes. Again, he dragged his thumb over you but with more weight and your previous gasp turned into a whimper. You held onto him, pulling him down into you to avoid his excited stare. His body blanketed you, his scent enveloping you along with the masculine weight of him.

You could feel his hand shift, dulled by the fabric of your stockings then the force of his palm rub against your clothed bundle of nerves. Your legs attempted to close at the sensation, but Sebastian's body kept them open to him. Your chest pounded uncomfortably, so fast and so heavy with the weight of your first-time arousal.

His lips locked to your neck again, his free hand pulling at your tie and unbuttoning the first button on your blouse. Now he kissed a lower, new, more sensitive territory. He moved to the second button and you thought it was impossible for your chest to thud any faster until his wet lips reached a particular sweet spot between your shoulder and neck whilst his other hand worked your sex.

“My heart.” You whimpered, tugging at his robe. His hand halted, resting around your thigh. The sigh he exhaled lingered on the skin of your neck before he leaned to press his ear against your chest.

He listened for seconds, long enough for your fingers to find their way to his hair. You hadn’t realised he held stiffness until his body relaxed into you at the tender rake of your nails through his soft brown locks.

“I’m sorry, I can’t control my nerves.” You said, catching your breath and willing your anxious heart to slow.

“Don’t be.” He countered, lifting his head from your thudding chest. “I’m affected by all this, too.” He took your hand and pressed it into his chest. You quickly felt the thick beats of his pulse, in a rhythm that easily matched your own.

He returned to lay over you, between your legs, with his head beside your own. You clung to his body that draped over you like a blanket along with his wet, wood smell that you'd only ever caught brief whiffs of before this. You felt guilty, leaving all the pleasing to him, especially since he'd been so kind to your hesitations. "I'm sorry. I'm not doing much, am I?"

"Is sorry your favourite word, love?" He asked, his warm hand caressing your cheek. "You deserve someone doing something to please you for once. Besides, your little sounds are doing enough for me as it is."

You pushed a hand to his face, covering the grin that turned you a deep plum shade. He chuckled and kissed your palm. "And what of you, Sebastian?" The kisses began to lead up your arm but you stopped him. "Sebastian."

"Your selflessness never retires, does it?"

You ignored him, propping yourself up to loosen his tie in a simple show that now, it was his turn. You did so smoothly and so gently that it made Sebastian's jaw tighten. You tossed it to the pile where your vest lay, then moved to his robes, sliding them off him. His expression seemed hard, annoyed almost but you continued. He took your wrist only when your fingers edged to undo his third button.

"Don't do this for me." He muttered, clearly thousands of thoughts buffering his mind, but that horrid guilt resurfaced on his face.

"For you?" You somewhat gaped. He must truly think of you as a saint (a push-over, but a saint) to believe you so innocent in your motives. "Not for you. With you, Sebastian." The words were enough to ease his hold on your wrist, so you continued.

Just as Sebastian, you had little to no experience on any sexual matters. You were hardly familiar with your own body, let alone a male's. So ever the improviser, you lifted yourself over him and sat gently, feeling the poke of his arousal against you. You shivered, and had to look away from him for a brief moment.

His hands snapped to your hips, and he looked at you with some kind of warning in his eyes. Tread carefully. The look said.

With Sebastian below you, you finally got a clean look at him; red lips, flushed face, rustled hair. You'd never seen him in such a state. It allowed you to understand why he enjoyed watching you whilst touching your most sensitive area.

With your hands on his chest for balance, you gently swayed your hips against him. His fingers curled around you, his knuckles blanching, and he let out a grunted curse that melted your insides to molten.

Again you moved against him, finding your own pleasure in the movement, prompting you to do it again. Sebastian was unravelling beneath you, eyes creased shut with his head thrown back and mouth letting out choked moans.

You began to notice Sebastian's hips joining you, rolling up with a feverish need. You dipped down to him, deciding the space was too much. His arms envelop you in a strong hug, tightening when you began to leave kisses across his skin.

“Does it feel good?” You asked insecurely whilst already knowing the answer.

“Hng— yes.” He nodded desperately.

The following exchange between you two was nothing more than writhing bodies, quiet moans and shallow breaths.

At some point, appearing fed up with your pace and control, Sebastian had shifted you off him and to his side, where he then mounted you. Finding his rightful place between your legs and returning his core to yours, grinding against you in a manor that reminded you what was to come once the layers between you were gone.

It made your insides plea for him, his hand. Anything.

So you took his face, and guided it back to your lips. It was messier now, not fast or rough, just messy as his mind strayed between his deep rolls against you and the way your tongue met his bottom lip.

But he stoped, retracting his hips but not yet his mouth. You broke from him first.

"Sebastian." His name was a plea, a whine against loosing the sensation of him finding friction against you.

"If we continue like this, I... I won't last. You should find your release before it's over."

You wondered how Sebastian might've known you were even capable of climax, then consider what other kinds of books were available in the restricted section of the library he might've come across. The thought didn't linger in your mind for too long, because he had sat up and had begun removing your stockings.

"Sebastian..."

The familiar sound of your nervous unease halted him.

"Just don't stare." You asked, looking away from the sight of him undressing you.

"Of course." It was a shotty promise, but you allowed him to take off your puffy drawers and settle over you again. He kissed your lips briefly, then your cheek, jaw, neck, collarbone and the plush of your breast that peaked from your halfway unbuttoned blouse.

You gazed up at the ceiling you'd designed two years ago, finding comfort in its familiarity. You wondered briefly that if you had told your younger self that Sebastian Sallow would one day see you half undressed, flushed with lust and be kissing his way down your ribs, abdomen and stomach until he reached your sex, what she might say. You had some faint idea, younger you would've responded with "Sounds about right."

The kiss he pressed against your knee was unhurried and deliberate, even more-so was the one he pressed to your inner thigh. When his mouth finally found you it drew a sharp intake of breath from your chest, suspended in the heavy quiet of the room.

Your hands, awkward and alone, grabbed at your skirt and shirt, clenching the fabric until your knuckles went white. One of them instinctually reached for his hair when his hot, wet tongue slowly swiped you for the first time. Another gasp joined the symphony of echoed silence, aside for the occasional rustle of clothes.

His tongue explored you carefully and too light but with each vocal exhale or quick tug at his hair the experimental licks became sure as he uncovered what made you react the most.

You could feel a simple quake in his hands as they held your thighs open and your trembling body steady. You reached to the fingers that created craters in your flesh, brushing across them in a plea for him to hold your hand. And he did.

You had never imaged it could feel like it did, so warm, so encompassing, so vulnerable yet so rewarding. It was all utterly overwhelming. You couldn't think of anything else other than the sensations. His wet tongue sliding across your nerves, the softness of his chestnut brown hair, the puffs of his hot exhales against your skin and the loving hold of his hand.

The builds of pleasure had begun to undeniably form, and the incoming reality that Sebastian would made you climax quickly sent a storm of butterflies within your stomach.

"I think I'm close." You uttered.

Sebastian's eyes fluttered at your heavenly admission, but he didn't allow the swirling of pride in his chest to sway him from your pleasure. His tongue and mouth moved with such deliberate care, that you whimpered to consider how much he must've loved you, to want care for you this way. No, Sebastian was not a fast lover by any means.

The building peaked, until it snapped and you unravelled. Sebastian had known it by the shiver that ripped through your body and the way your fingers tightened almost painfully around his hair. All that, and the moan you let out was the loudest you'd made yet.

You felt the warm cavern of his mouth seperate from you however you were well past the point of reaction as you sobbed and gasped for oxygen to feed your rapturing heart.

Sebastian's eye's glazed over your now glistening skin "You finished." He stated, almost asking in such bewilderment. You didn't reply, still catching your breath. He picked you up from your weak lay on the sofa and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly.

You wondered when he kissed you, if that sweet tang on his tongue was the taste of you.

The intimacy lingered, guiding you into a heat you didn't expect so soon after your peak. Your hand reached the rim of his trousers, index finger curling around his belt and ever so lightly tugging at it.

Sebastian seemed to hesitate, separating from your lips and gazing at you. “We can stop here. There's no rush—” he began, his voice low and warning, but you silenced him with a soft shake of your head.

“I don't want to stop,” you whispered, the words shaky but certain. The way his breath caught at your words sent warmth bloating your chest.

His hug around you faded as he fumbled with the button of his trousers, his hands trembling slightly as his usual confidence slipped for a vulnerable kind of focus.

Your gaze rose at the ceiling instinctively, to avoid an image so lewd your heart might explode.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours again. The kiss was softer now, as if trying to calm both of your nerves. “It’s just me. You don’t have to be nervous.”

“I’m not,” you lied, the tight weakness in your throat betraying you.

Sebastian smiled, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “I think you are,” he countered, “but that’s alright. This is... I’m nervous too.”

“You don’t seem it,” you admitted, and he let out a breathy laugh.

“I’m good at pretending,” he confessed, his tone light but honest. He kissed you again, slower this time, and the warmth of his lips helped steady you.

As he positioned himself, his movements slowed, almost hesitant. His brow furrowed slightly as though searching for the right way to proceed. “If it hurts, or if you want me to stop, you’ll tell me?”

You nodded.

When he began to push forward, he braced himself with a groan you only recognised Sebastian let out when he'd been in pain, though this was something else entirely. The exhale that followed seemed to have winded him. It was as though sliding into you was like sliding into some exquisite oil.

Despite what you might've expected, no pain flooded your body. There was an uneasy pressure, but no incredible discomfort. As his size slid across your nerves you couldn't help the sharp intake of air through your teeth

Sebastian froze immediately. "Too much?" He asked.

"No," you managed, although sounding as if you were holding back a sob, "It's just.. new." His shoulders sagged with relief.

You shifted beneath him, angling your hips instinctively, and the change made him groan, his head dropping to your shoulder. “Gods, you feel… perfect,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin.

He halted a slow jut into you, experimenting with each gentle motion, balancing his desire with your comfortability. That uneasy tightness had lifted almost completely as he massaged your insides, spreading a melting warmth that eased any tension in your mind.

His name fell from your lips and it shattered what composure he had left. "Does it feel better now?" Although the question sounded worried for you, Sebastian wanted more, to go further and harder and needed the permission from your pleasure.

"Yes," you gasp, "Its— ah— Sebastian it's so much better."

Now he had a newfound confidence and his movements grew surer but still achingly gentle.

It was all becoming smoother, more instinctive, and you found yourself matching him, your hips rising to meet his. He groaned at this. The sensation of him filling you, of your bodies moving in perfect sync, was intoxicating. You could feel his hands sliding up your sides, his touch gentle yet tight as he held you close.

The feel of him gliding inside you, slowly and shallowly pleasing you send spark dancing underneath your skin and another tension, similar to the one you felt with Sebastian's mouth around your sex, although not the same, began to build. “Sebastian,” you gasped, your voice laced with urgency. “I—”

“Just a little more,” he coaxed, remaining loyal to the kind rhythm of his thrusts. “I can feel it, too.”

You held yourself together for only a moment longer, unravelling too soon and too fast. This one was intense, flooding your body and contracting your muscles, even the ones that surrounded Sebastian. It had pushed him over the edge, too.

A warmth flooded you and the hands clutching his back became sharp nails digging into his shirt and skin. You didn't forget the way he moaned at the rake. Both of you shuddered, Sebastian at finding his release inside you and you feeling it merge with the aftershock of your own climax.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your breaths mingling in the stillness, the world outside forgotten. Sebastian lowered his forehead to yours and collapsed breathless at your side.

You could've drifted off into a deep slumber, you might've for a single moment, if Sebastian hadn't removed his blanket of warmth by lifting himself from the sofa. He took his robe off the pile of strewn bits of clothing, and draped it over you.

Through tiredly lidded eyes, you heard the rustle of clothing as he buttoned up the loose pieces hanging off him.

"Sebastian?" You weren't done basking in the aftercare yet.

"I'm going to brew the potion."

"Potion?"

"A... preventative."

You sat up. "Preventative?"

Although he'd been deep inside you just a moment ago, he attempted to avoid crudeness. "To, you know, stop you from being.. with child."

You weren't sure if you should laugh, or freak out, so an odd mix between the two emotions emitted from you. "Sebastian how do you know so much about all this?"

"Why? Did my skills exceeded your expectations that much?"

"Please, be serious," you begged.

"Well, you know how much I like to read." He seemed to shy from the confession. "After a while, one gets curious about certain things and... as for the potion, I found it in a book about married couples. Said it was 'to only be used to prevent further conception after having too many children' although I think we can bend the rules for this occasion."

"Children? Oh merlin, what have we done." The afterglow had faded too soon and you were left with the cries of a culture that told you sex before marriage was unacceptable. "I'm going to have to wear a black wedding dress..." You despaired.

Sebastian only laughed.

"Don't laugh! I'll have to lie to my future husband, and—"

"I'll be marrying you," he stated, as though you were slow for not already knowing this.

"What?"

"Love, don't think for a moment I'd let you share yourself with me like this and not marry you," any words you could've hoped to say were buried deep in your pit of a gut, "besides, I've always thought you looked quite pretty in black."

You weakly laughed, the other option being to cry from overwhelm of it all.

"I'll tell you a secret though—we're quite late to the party."

"What do you mean?"

"Weasley, Prewett and Plummly."

"You're joking." You gaped, "with who?"

"None of them will tell. Suppose they might be lying, though I'm sure I did spot Weasley snogging a Hufflepuff once. Might've been her."

"Huh." You supposed that if you had to have guessed, Garreth Weasley would've been the first name you called.

"Pretty sure word got out about it too, that's why he's been in detention for so long. The teachers can't prove it happened, but they can still punish him for it."

So that's why you hadn't seen Garreth as often anymore. With his aunt as a teacher, she'd surely be on his tail about anything scandalous. Then stress twanged your heart.

"What if someone finds out about us, about tonight?"

"They won't."

"What if they do?"

His mouth quirked into a half-smile, equal parts reassuring and mischievous. “We’d get scolded, thrown in detention, and likely forced to marry sooner than we’d like. Expulsion would be threatened, but I reckon most of the professors have enjoyed watching our so-called ‘budding romance.’ I’d wager they’d let it slide.”

"Professor Wesley would have you strung up by your ears for taking me to bed," you muttered, finding humour in the image, but also horror in the truth of it. "Oh Merlin she'd be so disappointed in me..."

"You're right," he muttered with an exaggerated sigh, "if it was Ominis who'd taken you, she'd be so much happier."

You couldn't help the laugh that left you, or how it quickly dissolved into a groan. "Sebastian please, I— what if this was a mistake?"

His amusement faded and he softened. "Think for one moment, with no one else's judgement, did it feel like a mistake?"

"No..."

“You think I’d do this with anyone else?” he continued, his voice softer now. “That I’d risk everything—us—for something fleeting?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sebastian let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Merlin, you really don’t give me enough credit, do you?”

“It’s not that,” you protested weakly.

“Then what is it?” he pressed, his gaze intent but not unkind.

"You're not just saying all this to make me feel better, are you? To make me think you want me?" The words felt stupid the moment they left your mouth.

Sebastian blinked, stunned into silence for a moment before a laugh—warm and disbelieving—escaped him. “You’re daft if you think I’d ever not want you. Have you met me?”

You swatted at his arm halfheartedly, your cheeks burning. “This is mortifying.”

“Mortifying?” He scoffed, pulling you closer. “The only thing mortifying about this is how much I love kissing you, everywhere. Truely, I won't be able to think about another thing."

"If we get married, I think I'll die of a heart attack."

"Not if, love, when."

[cherrixpie]

HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN

part one of five

↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it

↬ sfw; only fluff this chapter; wc: 3.4k; cw: none; secret relationship trope, potter!reader, griffindor!reader

( masterlist )

The chill of the night air bit at your exposed cheeks as you climbed the final steps to the astronomy tower, your breath visible in faint puffs. Winter had arrived particularly early this year, chilling your bones even now, on the last weekend of october. The school lay quiet below, the golden glow of the countless windows no longer having given in to the darkness of a cold autnumm night.

You pulled your robe tighter around you, wincing at the faint creak of the wooden door as it swung open by the push of your hand. You knew you shouldn't be out after curfew- your brother was usually the one breaking rules and making trouble- but the pull of him was irrestible. He, who’s voice cut through the haunting silence like a knife.

“I was starting to think you wouldn't show.”

You froze mid-step, your heart leaping to your throat at the familiar voice. Even though you had been expecting it. Theodore Nott was was leaning casually against the stone railing, his pale face bathed in the cold light of the moon that sharpened every dip and curve in the prettiest way. A light smirk was curling at the corner of his lips, his usual cigarette dangling from his pink lips. His green slytherin tie was loosened, his robes slightly crumpled, as if he’d wandered here on a whim rather than planned this meeting. But you knew better. Theo rarely did anything without careful thought.

“I had to make sure the coast was clear,” you replied, trying to copy his nonchalance. His dark eyes followed you closely as you crossed the space between you, coming to a halt a few feet away from the railing to keep some distance between you and the abyss. It was funny how you could ride a stick of wood regularly, tens of meters in the air, but looking down a great height with steady floor under you feet had nausea creep up your chest.

You tried not to shift under his prying eyes. Being eyed up by Theodore Nott was a rather particular feeling. Every time you met his eyes, you felt like he was staring right through you, blowing through every cover, every mask, every wall you had ever shielded your true self with and assessing it with disarming precision. As you returned his stare, his smile widened a little and he puffed on his cigarette. “You’ve gotten better at sneaking around, though. Tell me, do the Potter genes include an innate sense of rule-breaking?”

“And here I was, thinking I was your ‘good girl’,” you replied, quoting his teasing nickname. A rare laugh escaped his throat, more of a huff, really, that he hid in his hand holding the cigarette. You eyed it reproachfully.

“You’re going to die at a very young age, Theo.”

Slightly puzzled, he looked down at you, blowing smoke into the air and holding out an arm to beckon you closer. Answering the silent invitation, you let him nudge you towards him gently, the cigarette-free hand pulling you closer by the waist. “Is that a threat, cara? Because I could think of no better way to die than by your gentle hands.”

The charming bastard got a hold of said hands that were shivering slightly from the cold as you had forgotten to put gloves on, and pressed a gentle kiss onto your palm, carefully watching your reaction. You could only pray he took the flush on your cheeks as a symptom of the cold rather than your flustered reaction to his Italian.

“That's not what I meant,” you frowned, indicating the cigarette between his slender fingers. “What I meant was that you’re going to smoke yourself into an early grave.”

God, the way his eyelashes caught the few too-early snowflakes melting hopelessly on the ground. You gave a high-pitched tone of surprise when suddenly, he surged forward, pulling you even closer and trailing kisses up your jaw to your ear. “Tell me you’d hate that,” he whispered and you gave him an incredulous look he couldn't see.

“Of course I’d hate that!”

Before you could say anything else, Theo discarded the cigarette over the railing. Though you had no time to follow the tiny glowing ember on its way down, because just a fraction of a second later, his lips crashed into yours and you let out a startled squeak. Feeling him smile against your lips, you kissed him back in a weak attempt to take the initiative. He allowed you to play, but the movement of his hands, the caging of his arms and the way he beckoned your mouth open so easily proved his underlying dominance. Theo just wasn't beatable at kissing.

This was what you had been looking forward to all day, sitting through transfiguration, charms and defense against the dark arts, all subjects you had without him, stealing longing glances over dinner and quickly looking back as to avoid drawing the attention of your friends or brother to the silent exchange.

As the kiss got more heated, Theo’s fingers curled into your sides, spinning you around so you were with your back to the railing. Miraculously, you couldn't bring yourself to care. All there was in this microcosm of the two of you was him, you and the feeling of his lips on yours. One hand of his cupped your jaw, angling it slightly back to gain best access to your throat. As his lips trailed down the expanse of it, nipping, kissing and sucking, you found yourself snapping out of your theo-kiss-induced haze and pulled away aprubtly.

Panting, you covered Theo’s lips with one hand and he raised his eyebrow at you. He did that well, his eyes alone could make your stomach flutter. But you didn't give in. “Theo, what if someone sees marks on my-” You're were a little embarrassed about the subject matter, breaking off mid-sentence, and glared at his shit-eating grin, invisible behind your hand. “Well, I mean-” You were blushing. Oh god, you were blushing like crazy.

“Did you not enjoy that, cara?” Theo whispered seductively, carefully prying your hand from his mouth and kissing it gently. His eyes glinting with mirth, he looked at you challengingly.

“Of course I did!” you said, exasperated and embarrassed at the same time. You hated it when Theo took advantage of your unfamiliarity with intimacy and relationships. “But nobody can see!”

You expected him to tease you some more, so you were surprised when he merely breathed a long sigh and pulled you into his chest. Immediately, you buried your nose in his robes that smelled of him so deliciously. Smoke, old wood, a hint of mint, bookshelves. You felt him breathe your scent in as well, nose buried in your hair, and laughed lightly, but he didn't join in. His voice was a whisper, hard to make out.

“How long do you think we can keep this up before someone finds out?”

You didn't want to answer the question.

Something picking at the back of your hand snapped you out of your drowsy state. Still tired from last night, you had dozed off a little in history of magic, but as soon as you caught the culprit of the picking at your hands, a hardly suppressed smile pulled at your lips. It was a little paper bird, and the fancy handwriting clearly indicated it as a note from Theo.

You waited until Professor Binns turned his back to the class to write on the blackboard, before carefully slipping the note into your lap, shielding it from Hermoine who sat next to you, taking notes. When you carefully folded the note open, you were greeted by Theo’s elegant handwriting.

If you keep chewing on your quill like that, I might lose my ability to concentrate.

Your cheeks flushed pink as you glanced sideways at him, where he sat a few rows behind your brother who had his head buried in his folded arms, fast asleep. Theo was leaning back in his chair, his quill poised lazily over his parchment as though he had been diligently taking notes, instead of composing witty distractions. His lips curved into a light smirk when your eyes met, and he tilted his head slightly, as if to say, Well?

You hastily scribbled back, your handwriting looking sloppy and slanted next to his. Maybe I'm trying to distract you. Someone’s got to keep you on your toes, Nott. With a flick of your wand, the note floated subtly back to his desk, and you could barely contain a smile as his brows lifted in amused surprise before he began to write again.

Turning to the blackboard to copy the notes, you felt Hermoine's eyes on you and looked up from your parchment. She was eyeing you suspiciously. “What are you smiling about?” she whispered, sparing a nervous glance at the professor. “Nothing,” you answered, hastily grabbing the next messenger pigeon out of the air before it could enter your friend's vision. You could practically feel Theo chuckling at your unlucky predicament.

But Hermoine turned back to Binns once more to listen to his sermon and you stuffed the bird into your back subtly to read it after class and away from prying eyes.

“You’d be a half-decent Chaser if you didn't spend half the match showboating,” Theo drawled, his tone so casual it was clearly meant to provoke.

He leaned against the headboard of his bed, arms crossed as he regarded you with an expression that was equal parts exasperation and amusement. You, meanwhile, were sprawled across the emerald-green bedspread of his four-poster, arms tucked behind your head like you owned the place. At his words, you shot up immediately, propping yourself up on one elbow. “That's rich coming from the guy who winks at the crowd every time he scores- what’s that, part of your technique?”

The slytherin dormitory was quiet, except for crackling of the enchanted fire in the corner and the endless string of your playful teasing. Theo and you had the room for yourselves today as his mates were in Hogsmeade and Theo had stayed behind with the excuse of homework. As if he hadn't already finished all his work like the flawless O-grader he was.

“And anyway, I don’t see you scoring against Gryffindor’s defense without half your team clearing the way for you.” you teased, attempting to get a rise out of your ever calm and collected boyfriend.

But Theo’s smile only deepened, and he leaned forward just slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing lilt. “Jealous of my stats, are we, Potter? It’s not my fault you lot rely on your Seeker for every win.”

“You-” you started, your eyes narrowing, but his soft chuckle cut you off. You tossed one of his pillows at him instead, grinning when he caught it effortlessly. “Just keep laughing, Nott. You’ll regret it next match when I leave you in the dust.”

Suddenly, you felt his hand close around your ankle and shrieked as you were pulled towards him with alarming force. Before you could comprehend the shift in his behavior, he jolted forward as well, hovering over your body, sprawled out defenselessly underneath him. A light smile played around his lips as he took in your shocked expression with satisfaction and he brought a gentle hand up to your chin to tilt it upward, giving him access to your neck.

Theo dipped his head down to trail ghostly kisses down to your shoulder, muttering against your skin: “Are you sure about that, tesoro? Because I think you’ll have to work on your reaction time a bit before you can beat me.”

“Sneaky bastard,” you said, but couldn't suppress a high-pitched moan when Theo suddenly buried his teeth in your shoulder. Embarrassed by the sound that had slipped from your lips, you threw your hand over your mouth and blushed when he chuckled darkly into your neck.

“What, are you embarrassed?” he teased, looking up at you through his long dark lashes. Your pointed glare and flushed cheeks were answer enough.

When Theo broke out into a hearty laugh, you attempted to scowl at him, but it was hard when you were half in wonder by the sound of his laughter you got to hear so rarely. All the years you hadn't known Theo except for that one slytherin boy, you thought he couldn't laugh. When he did it for the first time with you, talking in the library over a muggle book you both had read and neither of you could talk to anyone else about, that was the first time you felt a flutter of butterflies rummaging in your stomach in his presence.

Awestruck by the sound of his laughter, you realized you had spaced out for a moment. Theo’s cackle had faded into a soft smile you could only reciprocate. His handsome features were painted with a gentle brush by the light of the fire. “You should laugh more often,” you said, not for the first time. “It’s beautiful.”

Theo hummed amused and leaned on his elbows to hover only a few inches above you. At this angle, his dark curls fell into his eyes, obstructing the view somewhat, so you reached up to run a hand through them. Savoring your touch, he closed his eyes and when he opened them, they held an implicit hunger that made you gulp. “I like your laugh too, tesoro. Love it, in fact,” he murmured, lips barely an inch from yours and you were itching to close the space in between. “And what I also love is y-”

Something banged at the door and both of you shot up, startled. As you stared at it unmovingly, the chatter of boy’s voices now unmistakably being heard through the closed door, Theo, the ever-quick thinker, jumped off the bed and beckoned you to follow. You shot up, heart thrumming with horror, scrambling onto your belly and rolling under Theo’s bed as far back as possible. With one quick glance to check if you were okay, that you answered with a silent thumbs-up, Theo got to his feet and walked over to the door, opening it.

“Theo, you bloke! Why did you lock the fucking door?” you heard a voice that sounded very much like Mattheo Riddle's shout. Several heavy steps resounded against the wooden floor and from under the bed, you could make out four pairs of shoes, undoubtedly belonging to Riddle, Malfoy, Berkshire and Zabini.

“I was studying,” Theo said, annoyance shimmering through his voice. “I prefer to do that undisturbed.���

You silently thanked the heavens that you and Theo had actually been studying before and therefore supplanted convincing evidence consisting of books and parchment. But suddenly, another realization dawned on you and your stomach curled with dread. Your parchment was up there too, with your handwriting and your name on it!

Theo’s eyes had also fallen on your parchment and he casually strolled over to his bed to collect it, concealing it with his and setting it aside. He felt annoyance rise within him and tried to keep it at bay. Of course his mates would barge in unexpectedly early in the exact moment he was about to confess his love to you. Clearing his face of any resemblance of emotion, he turned back around, leaning against his bedpost and trying his best not to worry about you, squeezed under his bed.

“You’re early,” he remarked, raising one brow. A memory almost made his lips twitch, of you trying to imitate the way he was able to raise one brow.

The boys threw glances at each other, some wary, but Blaise laughed. Only now did Theo notice his bleeding lip, and the others didn't look better of. Damn. He was really distracted when he hadn't even noticed it until now, when he always counted on his flawless perceptional ability.

“Who did you brawl with?” he sighed, though amused, looking directly at Mattheo who raised his hands in defense.

Draco nodded his way, dapping at a cut above his eyebrow with his shirt. “Mattheo picked a fight with Potter and some of his mates and we had to flee the scene before the old McGonagall caught us. Potter and Weasley got detention though.” He laughed in malicious joy and Theo's lips twitched slightly at the thought of you rolling your eyes under the bed.

“Potter’s sister wasn't with them though,” Enzo pondered, swapping out his slightly bloody hoodie for a clean one. When his head ascended from his collar, hair slightly disheveled, he was met with four pairs of raised brows. Well, three pairs plus one.

“What do you care about Potter’s sister?” Mattheo grinned wolfishly and Enzo rolled his eyes, chucking his bloody hoodie at him that got Mattheo right in the laughing face. Over that, he thankfully missed the subtle clench of Theo’s jaw at hearing him say ‘Potter’s sister’ in such an invidous tone.

Enzo, evidently, didn't like it either, which didn't help Theo’s irritation that he hid behind a mask of indifference. “She’s actually quite nice,” Enzo retorted, rolling his eyes at Mattheo’s and Blaise’s teasing whistles.

“Where’d you talk to her?” Theo asked, making his words sound so utterly indifferent nobody picked up on his sudden focus on the subject.

Under the bed, your heart did a little leap when you realized why he was asking. Though Theo was no outright jealous person, you sometimes caught him stealing glances at your male friends, voice tightening subtly when he talked about them. Anytime you teased him for it, he denied it, of course, saying jealousy was irrational and for fools because he knew you would never even glance at them. Hearing his inquire, you made a mental note to taunt him with it when this was all over.

“The library,” Enzo said, sitting down on his bed and taking one of his novels off the shelve. “I’m lousy in Arithmetic, as you know, and she isn't.”

“I’m surprised she even talked to you,” Blaise said as he magically fixed his lip in the mirror, making sure it looked flawless and untainted. “From what I gather, she’s the biggest goody-two-shoes in school, and a Griffindor ontop of that, why would she associate with a Slytherin?”

Enzo only shrugged, and Mattheo let out a loud groan as he longed himself at his bed that creaked under his impact. “Merlin, why are we still talking about Potters? There is so much more interesting stuff to talk about. Like what Theo has been doing today. Or who.”

He threw a teasing smile Theo’s way who raised his brow nonchalantly. “I told you, I was studying.”

“Yeah, sure,” Mattheo yawned, but kept his gaze fixed in his friends indecipherable expression. “You’re already five steps ahead in class, every assignment this year you got back with an O, what would you need to study for? Not to mention, you’ve been sneaking out more lately, and I bet it’s not ‘cause you’re dating Filch.”

Theo returned his stare unblinkingly, keenly aware of the fact that you were listening to every word. “So what if I am?” A slight smile graced his lips as he leaned his head against the bedpost. “Can't I fuck who I want?”

“Sure,” grinned Mattheo, unrelenting. “But you haven't done a lot of sleeping around for the last few months, from what I can gather. Seems to me like your man-whore-heart finally rests in the hands of only one unlucky girl.”

“Your audacity calling me fickle when you’ve slept your way through every willing girl in our grade is obnoxious,” Theo sneered, making the other boys laugh and directing the conversation towards the ravenclaw girl who’s heart Mattheo had broken just yesterday. With the other boys distracted, Theo dared kneeling down, pretending to tie his shoelaces while at the same time peering into the dark under his bed.

His eyes met yours in an instant as you raised your brows teasingly, and as he rose to his feet, Theo could hardly suppress a little smile that dared creep upon his face.

[luvendiary]

breaching sunlight / f. g. weasley

summary: you could always count on fred to be like sunlight in your life. even when hogwarts seemed to be eternally overcast by a certain pink devil. warnings: not proofread. no use of y/n. 2k words. inspired by that one scene where fred and george are being super cute and console a younger student.

“What’s your name?”

Was the first thing you heard once you escaped Umbridge's office.

It was a quiet whisper. Not directed at you, but to someone else entirely down the corridor. 

You didn’t dare show your face yet. Not with your cheeks still damp and blotchy, your eyes puffy and your nose red from crying. Tears you’d held back until you were well out of her line of sight.

“Michael,” came a much smaller voice in reply. A boy — younger, no older than a second year by the sound of it.

“It’s going to be alright,” said another voice. Older and steady. George.

“Yeah,” came Fred’s voice next. “It’s not as bad as it seems. See? Ours are already fading.”

You stood hidden behind the wide stone column, one hand clutched tightly over your chest as you tried to regulate your breathing. You couldn’t let them see you like this. You knew they were waiting for you.

You heard Michael sniffle again — a tiny, wet sound. It cut through you like a knife. It made you want to punch that awful toad in the throat. It made you want to hug the little boy, tell him he did nothing wrong. 

“The pain stops after a while,” said George.

Michael sniffed again. “Does… does it always hurt that much?”

There was a pause.

You leaned closer to the stone.

Fred answered. Softer this time. “First time’s the worst.”

With a deep breath, you decided to reveal yourself. You inhaled deeply, before exhaling. You wiped your tears off your face and put on a smile before stepping out.

The sound of your shoes against the rock floor, made their heads snap up at you. You just smiled and raised your arm, showing them your newly acquired scars.

Fred stood up, quietly meeting you halfway, whilst George stayed crouched next to Michael.

“Do you think you’ll be able to sneak in a proper bomb in her tea without her noticing?” you asked, trying your best to sound humorous. 

“I’ll see what we can do about that,” he said as he ever so gently grabbed your arms to inspect it. You felt his eyes trace over the words carved into your skin.

I must not be a brat.

You felt the way his grip briefly tightened around you before loosening again. 

You stared at George and offered him a small smile along with a wave of your left hand — the one left unoccupied by Fred.

He and Michael both waved back. 

“You alright love?” George asked.

You just nodded, but a quiet sniffle made it past. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Fred didn’t press you on that — just gave your arm one last careful squeeze before letting go. He tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning your face with that unreadable expression he wore when he was trying to make sense of something he didn’t like.

You just smiled, a tight lipped smile, up at him. 

He got the message. Even though he didn’t like it one bit. There was nothing he could do, not without a visit to the toad’s office of his own. Instead, he just placed his hand on your lower back and gently led you to the others.

You settled on the cold stone bench beside the others, the only sound echoing through the corridor being George’s encouraging words to the younger boy.

It made your stomach turn. Just a few months prior, these same corridors would have been buzzing with energy. Even Peeves seemed to not be in the mood for anything anymore. 

“What’d she get you in for?” Fred asked, breaking the silence as he stood beside you.

You exhaled slowly through your nose, the smile on your face faltering.

“I snapped,” you murmured, eyes fixed on the floor. “She said the Ministry’s wasting money funding the permanent care ward at St. Mungo’s.”

That seemed to get George’s attention as well.

“She said it right in front of Neville too,” you went on, voice taut and low.”

You paused, knuckles white where your hands were clasped tightly in your lap.

“And when I told her she was wrong,” you added, jaw tightening, “she called me a brat. An attention seeker. Said I was just trying to cause trouble.”

Everyone remained quiet for a moment, and you felt tears spilling over your eyes once again. You stood up sharply, anger flooding through your veins. Your head replayed the scenario, going over every other possible wretched and horrible thing you could’ve said to her.

You faced the opposite wall, your body shaking with anger as you tried blinking the tears away. 

“Merlin, that woman… she deserves Azkaban,” you mumbled, your voice breaking slightly as you bit your nails.

Fred was quiet behind you.

You didn’t turn to look at him — couldn’t — not with your eyes glassy and your hands trembling like that. The silence stretched out, thick and heavy, until the only sound was the soft scratch of your nail against your teeth and Michael’s sniffles a few feet away.

You flinched when you felt the faintest brush of fingers against your sleeve. His hand slipped down slowly until it found yours.

Your fingers had been at your mouth again, nails raw where you’d been chewing without thinking. But Fred’s fingers gently curled around yours, coaxing your hand down. He didn’t say a word, just held it quietly.

“Hey,” he murmured.

You didn’t turn.

He didn’t ask you to.

For a long second, you stood there, you facing the wall, him just barely close enough to feel the warmth of his arm against yours. His thumb moved once, brushing over your knuckles, careful not to go over the freshly carved scars. Though they seemed intent on doing so, you could feel his gaze wandering lower —taking them in. Wanting to brush his thumb over them to make sure you were okay. 

Then, barely above a whisper, he spoke again.

“How long were you standing back there?”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat thick and unmoving. You shook your head a little, still not looking at him.

“I’m fine,” you said again, soft and too hollow to sound true.

Fred didn’t challenge it.

He just held your hand a little tighter.

After a moment, you turned your head just slightly, your eyes fixed somewhere far off down the corridor.

“How’d you know?”

His voice was low. Gentle. “I didn’t.”

You knew in true Fred fashion, a smirk was trying to make its way past his lips like it always did when he outsmarted you in some way. Though he held off for your sake and this particular situation. That didn’t stop  you from throwing a small glare his way, one that didn’t hold much power, because the simple sight of him looking at you with those pleading eyes disarmed you.

“I didn’t know for sure,” he clarified, voice quiet. “Just though I heard you.”

Crying. He didn't say it, but you knew that's what he meant.

You huffed a breath — half a laugh, half a sigh.

“I waited,” he added, softer still. “Just in case you wanted to come out when you were ready.”

Your grip tightened slightly around his fingers.

Fred nodded, once, just enough to let you know he understood.

Then he leaned back a little, shoulder resting against the stone wall beside you, still holding your hand. His thumb moved again, slow and thoughtful.

Neither of you said anything for a while.

“I’d say she deserves being trampled by Buckbeak,” George said, breaking the silence. “Wouldn’t you?”

A chuckle escaped your throat as you turned around to face him. “Or eaten by Thestrals.”

“Maybe the mermaids in the Black Lake would be interested in taking her for a swim,” Fred added, which made Michael laugh for the first time since you'd met him.

You let yourself breathe. One beat. Then another. The tension started to ease, just slightly, from your shoulders.

Fred glanced at you again, just for a second. And then he bumped your shoulder, gentle and deliberate.

You laughed softly once again and just tilted your head a little closer toward him — not quite leaning, but not quite not — and let that count for something.

George was still keeping Michael distracted with his increasingly ridiculous suggestions for Umbridge’s demise, when a sharp ahem echoed down the corridor.

Everything went still.

You didn’t have to see her to know.

You just knew.

The air felt heavier, colder, and yet somehow cloying, like you’d stepped into a cloud of cheap perfume.

You turned your head slowly — just in time to see Dolores Umbridge standing at the end of the hall. Her eyes scanned over the group like she was surveying insects beneath her shoe.

She cleared her throat again. Louder this time. Demanding attention.

You immediately stood straighter and moved.

Your steps carried you to Michael without thought. You planted yourself in front of him, shielding him from her sight with your body. You didn’t speak, didn’t glare, just stood there.

Fred and George flanked you without needing to be asked.

“Well,” Umbridge finally said, smiling so sweetly it made your stomach churn, “it seems I have stumbled upon a little gathering.”

No one answered.

Her smile never wavered.

“Naughty children,” she said softly, voice feather-light and utterly revolting, “must be disciplined. It's the only way they ever learn, after all.”

Still, you said nothing.

Umbridge's eyes fell on you for a moment longer than the others — almost like she was expecting you to speak up again. To bite back.

But you didn’t.

Finally, with a satisfied little hum, she folded her hands in front of her robes and said, “I believe it's nearly curfew. Best you all run along to your respective dormitories… before any of you make another unfortunate choice.”

She turned with a flounce, disappearing down the hall, the echo of her heels lingering long after she was gone.

“You know George,” Fred spoke up after a second. “I’ve always felt our futures lay outside the world of academic achievement.”

George chuckled, his gaze still pinned on where Umbridge had been standing moments before. “Fred, I’ve been thinking exactly the same thing.”

The days that followed felt like wading through mud — slow, heavy, and utterly exhausting. With Umbridge’s suffocating presence blanketing the school, it was as if every student at Hogwarts carried their own personal dementor, draining the life out of them bit by bit. Even the professors weren’t immune to the gloom. McGonagall, normally rigid and unsparing, had begun turning a blind eye to late assignments and overlooked detentions.

Umbridge was everywhere.

Or at least, it felt that way.

To escape the depressive atmosphere, you buried yourself in your OWL preparations. Every free moment was spent studying, revising, memorizing, anything to keep your mind from wandering. If you filled every hour, every breath, with work, then there would be no room left to think about how miserable everything truly was. The goal was simple: be too exhausted by the end of the day to feel anything else.

And you managed it. So well, in fact, that you barely noticed the twins slipping away more often than usual. You didn’t catch the way they whispered in corners or exchanged glances across the common room.

Then came the exams. And that was when everything finally boiled over.

The Great Hall had been transformed: desks arranged in long, even rows, spaced precisely beneath the enchanted ceiling, which mirrored the leaden skies above. The air was thick with tension. Quills scratched across parchment like hissing whispers. The only other sounds were the rustle of paper and the relentless ticking of the large brass clock at the head of the room.

Umbridge stood at the front like a bad omen, arms crossed tightly beneath her horrid pink cardigan. Her ridiculous bow sat perched on her head like a ribbon slapped on spoiled meat. She paced back and forth, her heels clicking sharply across the stone floor, each step as grating as her presence.

You were halfway through a particularly difficult theoretical question when a loud, thunderous explosion rang from outside the Great Hall’s enormous doors.

Heads shot up.

Then another sound. Another explosion.

The hall was filled with murmurs then. Quills loosely hanging between unsure fingers.

Umbridge stiffened as she crossed the hall towards the great doors. Her heels echoing on her trail.

Another bang. Then a sizzle. Then what sounded unmistakably like cheering from somewhere beyond the doors.

Then, the doors slammed open with a thunderous bang that echoed off the high stone walls.

And in they came.

Fred and George Weasley — streaking through the air on broomsticks, red and gold fireworks trailing behind them like comets.

The hall erupted.

Fireworks shot in every direction — serpentine rockets looping and spiraling across the high enchanted ceiling. You ducked instinctively as a firework zoomed overhead, shaped like a Chinese Fireball. It exploded midair in a flash, releasing a burst of glittering red sparks.

Fred flew low between the rows of desks, scattering parchment and ink bottles in his wake. George followed, pulling a string of enchanted fireworks from his satchel and tossing them high into the air. They exploded in a synchronized display.

Once you looked up, you caught Fred’s gaze —and he winked along with that stupid, crooked smile of his that made your stomach flutter.

You laughed.

It bubbled out of you so suddenly, so violently, that your stomach hurt.

It felt so good. You could not remember the last time you had laughed like that. Was it perhaps last summer? Had Hogwarts even heard your laugh this year? You did not remember, and to be frank, you didn’t care. Not right now at least.

Everyone poured out into the corridor, laughter and shouts reverberating off the stone.

Out into the courtyard they flew.

You pushed your way through the crowd, breathless and smiling as the doors swung wide and the cold spring air rushed in.

Students had flooded the courtyard, some cheering until they lost their voices, others just staring up in open-mouthed wonder. You stood near the front of the crowd, craning your neck to see them — laughing so hard your cheeks ached. It felt like breathing after being held underwater for too long.

Even the professors who had come outside — Flitwick, Sprout, and even McGonagall — wore expressions that ranged from begrudging amusement to thinly veiled satisfaction. She didn’t smile, not really, but there was a certain tightness at the corner of her lips as she watched the twins circle around once more.

Umbridge stood red-faced at the entrance, screaming orders no one could hear over the noise, arms flailing in utter futility.

And just like that, with one final swoop — a blaze of gold behind them and a long ribbon of smoke trailing in the sky — they were gone.

The crowd was still clapping and shouting by the time you were herded back into the castle. Professors were firm but unbothered. There was nothing more Umbridge could do without losing what little control she had left.

Still, even being ushered back into classes couldn’t quite smother the fire they’d lit.

By the end of the day, your voice was hoarse from laughing.

You walked arm in arm with two of your friends, the three of you still giggling over the look on Umbridge’s face. The mood in the common room had been practically electric all day.

After dinner, you finally made your way up to the dormitory, a pleasant ache in your muscles and warmth still lingering in your cheeks.

You weren’t expecting anything when you pulled the curtains back from your bed.

But there it was. Nestled on your pillow.

A letter.

Plain parchment. No name on the outside. Just folded once, neatly. You recognized the handwriting immediately.

Fred’s.

You sat slowly on the edge of the bed, the voices of your friends fading behind you as they chatted near the wardrobe. You turned the letter over once, then opened it.

Inside, written in that unmistakably messy, slanted script:

Thought you might want a bit of quiet tonight.

(Also figured a flying exit would score me some rep points. Did it work?)

You were the first face I looked for. You always are.

Hope you laughed today. Hope you remember how to keep doing it.

It’ll be a bloody shame not to hear that laugh every day.  I’m rather fond of it.

See you soon. Can’t wait to show you what we’re working on.

Don’t miss me too much.

— Fred

You read it twice. Then again. You didn’t even realize you were smiling until your friend asked what was on the parchment and you shook your head, folding it carefully and slipping it under your pillow.

For the first time in weeks, sleep came easily.

[faiszt]

. 𝆬 ⠀ ི᭨ᩧྀ⠀.⠀⠀ faiszt’s ε( ε ´O`)э。゜ BOT! dump⠀⠀❜❜

꒰ ︎ ♡ ︎ ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ ︎ ᐟ⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀NOTES.⠀⠀💬⠀⠀first of all: hi, babies! merry christmas and an early happy new year, i'm not sure if i'll be back here with more bots until the new year, so this is probably the last release of 2024, anyway, thank you so much for being with me this long year, i love you all!!! ~ 🫶🏻

▸⠀CHALLENGERS⠀*⠀˖⠀🎾

𝅭⠀innocent jealousy⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀you weren't seeing yourself as selfish or trying to soothe your ego, what was that other than innocent jealousy? what happened in atlanta, won't stay in atlanta, whether patrick likes it or not, you will tell art.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀girl-dad period⠀.⠀patrick zweig⠀૮⠀anyone who knew him a few years ago would probably think that they had created an identical and more responsible clone of him, the truth was that he changed a lot, yes, he changed for the sake of his little and beloved family.⠀♡ female user!

▸⠀DCU⠀*⠀˖⠀💥

𝅭⠀cookies 'n christmas⠀.⠀clark kent⠀૮⠀there were many things to see in metropolis, they just didn't tell you the part where the most beloved superhero on earth would end up falling in love with you. back in smallville, clark now had the titles of your husband, farmer, earth's most beloved hero, and your christmas cookie eater—you just know that the last one is his favorite.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀nerdy-coffee mornings⠀.⠀clark kent⠀૮⠀every morning was the same, you always ended up bringing coffee to his desk and being thanked with an awkward smile when he didn't know what to say first thing in the morning—but, this time he had a small plan on his mind to not be a stupid weirdo right in front of you.⠀♡ gender neutral!

▸⠀WIZARDING WORLD⠀*⠀˖⠀🪄

𝅭⠀warning signs⠀.⠀regulus black⠀૮⠀he was deceived by the ideals of his own leader, the one he admired and wanted to follow, however judged he was—his mission changed course, to destroy the horcrux, to destroy that damned piece of the dark lord's soul. you were in his way and he'd get you out, without mercy.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀herbology matters⠀.⠀severus snape⠀૮⠀amidst the chaos of his mind and the pain in his core since last year, when lily evans was gone, the tragic and bitter severus snape was trying to stop his mind from racing, but how could he do something when the new herbology master makes him think about so much?⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀12 grimmauld place⠀.⠀sirius black⠀૮⠀returning home was something that young sirius would never think of doing, he wasn't welcome there and wouldn't feel ever comfortable there even if they ripped out his brain and put another one in its place—but, not even when he was at hogwarts could he deny the surname they gave him, not when you shared it with him.⠀♡ gender neutral!

ꜜ⠀ small note:⠀i know that snape isn't severus prince snape, his mother's surname was only included because c.ai recognizes it and wouldn't let me even publish the bot with his real name without getting banned, that's the reason.⠀❜❜

⠀

[ghoulie-67-baby]

Rule breaker- Wizarding world.

Summary: You tried to be a good girl, but a certain Sirius Black makes you break rules.

Warnings: Domxsub dynamics, pet names, SMUT (were not pissing around), Edging (without permission I guess), manipulation, subspace, crying, cum play, using sub as ‘cum dump’, lying, punishment, cum eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slight blackout,

Pairing: Wolfstar x fem!reader.

Word count: 6,290.

The walk to class was never an easy one. Hogwarts was filled with magic and mischievous ghosts and moving staircases but today this wasn't my issue with getting to classes on time. I had 7 minutes to get to my lesson and I knew if I didn't want to get into trouble with Remus and Sirius then I needed to haul ass, despite my tired legs.

Sighing heavily, I began to climb another staircase, noticing it had not long moved and so wouldn't for a while, and trudging down the corridor with a yawn as my body fought to rouse from its sleep. Despite me having a lie-in, I was still drowsy but I put that down to not getting up until 20 minutes before my class, barely leaving myself enough time to get ready. If Sirius and Remus didn't have an early class then I would have gotten woken but I liked to push my luck when they weren't there. It meant nobody was there to see me break the rules but that was my little secret.

I was almost to the end of the corridor where my first lesson was when a smirking Sirius walked out of an empty room, as if he was waiting for me, with a smug look on his face, blocking my path.

"Well, well, well what have we here?" The grin never left his face as he leaned against the wall on his shoulder and crossed his arms. I smiled sweetly up at him, hoping he didn't point out my sleepy eyes and ruffled looks.

"Morning Pads, how was your first lesson?" Hopefully diverting the attention to him would take his attention from my lie-in.

"It wasn't so bad, I think the most important question is how was your late start Poppet?" I froze and bit my lip, I knew there wasn't any point in denying it unless I wanted to get into any further trouble.

"I didn't mean to get up late, Moony usually has time to wake me but he couldn't this morning." I watched as he nodded his head in faux agreement almost as if he was mocking me before smiling sweetly and moving to kiss my head.

"Well, I have something that could wake you up," His lips ghosted over my temple as he rubbed his hands up and down my arms. I knew by now I was late to my class and the thought of Remus' disappointment made my stomach turn slightly. At the same time, I didn't want to disappoint Sirius, after all, they were both my Doms and so I had to abide by both sets of rules. It was almost as if he could read my mind because he smiled down at me and grabbed my hand, pulling me gently behind him and into the empty room.

"Don't worry Y/N, it's not rule-breaking because you're following my rules." I relaxed a bit more and let my arms wrap around him as he kissed my neck before meeting his lips in a rough kiss. It didn't take long for him to have me perched on the edge of the table, he stood between my parted legs and my hands tangled in his hair as I panted harshly. His hands expertly lifted me from my perch before slipping my underwear off, letting them drop to the floor before grinning down at me. Well at least he got one thing right: I really was wide awake now.

My head hung back, eyes closed and mouth open in a silent moan as he pushed into me with a groan as he bottomed out, stretching me out nicely. For a moment he was still and I looked up at him, admiring his mess of hair as his eyes sparkled with a mischievous smirk. Before long, his stillness turned to short thrusts as he tried to restrain himself before becoming rough and harsh which he knew I loved. The classroom was filled with groans as he chased after his high, using me like I was there for his pleasure only which made whimpers escape me alongside muffled moans as he covered my mouth with his hand to quieten me. My hips bucked in time with his as I gripped his shoulders for support, pulling at his shirt as I got closer to the edge. With a moan, Sirius pushed into me as far as he could before I felt hot thick ropes of his cum coat my insides, almost pushing me over the edge.

Just before I could get my release, he removed himself from me, leaving me a panting and shaking mess that could barely stand up as he moved away to straighten out his uniform. Tears collected in my eyes as I watched him in shock and annoyance. The sparkle never left his eyes as he grinned back at me, straightening his tie.

"Next time don't break the rules and you can cum, you bad girl. Remus is going to be so disappointed in his good little girl when I tell him what you've done. See ya later Poppet." With a wave and a mocking smile, he disappeared out the door and to his next lesson. I tried to shout after him but he ignored me as he ran to his next class.

Now two rules had been broken. I had been late for my class and let Sirius use me without Remus being there or giving permission. Usually, that had to be discussed between the three of us or agreed upon by Remus but this time I knew I would definitely be in trouble, especially if Sirius was to tell Remus it was my idea.

The decision to skip classes was a quick one and so I pulled my underwear back up, ignoring Sirius' cum that slowly seeped out of me, and sped back to our dorm without a word to anyone. Once I reached the common room, I ran upstairs to Remus and Sirius' room and threw myself on the Lycanthrope's bed with a huff. Usually, girls weren't allowed in the boy's dorm, and vice versa, but of course the marauders had found a way around it.

The rest of my morning was spent with me sulking in Remus' bed, trying to read my books but distracted by the need to cum and also by the thought of punishment from my Dom. I had swaddled myself in one of Remus' jumpers, leaving my skirt on and curling under the covers. The day dragged by and if anyone had noticed I hadn't turned up to any class then they mustn't have said anything because no visitors came up, which I was grateful for. As dinner passed, my stomach growled at me but I ignored it as a sick twisted feeling grew. I felt so incredibly guilty and though it was Sirius who had the idea, I shouldn't have agreed because Remus wasn't there too. I knew better than this and now I wasn't a good girl anymore. At least I didn't break a third rule by touching myself without permission even though I was desperate to.

The afternoon was filled with me slipping in and out of subspace, crying to myself and napping because I was exhausted from crying. I was so caught up in my emotions that I forgot Remus finished before Sirius who had an extra class after him. My eyes were still blurred by the tears that tracked down my cheeks when the bedroom door opened and I held in a breath, glad that my face was hidden away from whoever it was by Remus' pillow and my body covered in his blankets. I stiffened as a hand rested against my covered ankle but I soon relaxed when the familiar scent of pine wood and chocolate clouded my senses. Though the intruder had been identified as my Dom, I still kept my face hidden, not wanting to face him right now as guilt wracked me.

"Hey bunny, how come you weren't in lessons?" His voice was so soft and sweet just as it always was when he knew I was having a bad day but today I didn't deserve for him to be nice. "Is everything okay?" I couldn't answer him so I nodded silently. "Bun, Look at me." His voice was slightly harder, knowing he needed to be firm so I'd listen. Reluctantly, I turned onto my other side so he could see my face and raised my eyes to meet his, knowing they were red and puffy. His face flashed with concern and he raised a hand to caress my cheek but I stopped him, shaking my head.

"What happened Bunny?" Remus was far from stupid and wouldn't stop until he got to the bottom of this mess. "Did someone hurt you?"

"No," My voice came out as a whisper. "I'm just a bad girl Remmy, I'm sorry." I got a look of confusion as I curled my legs towards my chest.

"No, you could never be a bad girl f'me Y/N, you're my good girl. What makes you think you're a bad girl?" I bit back a whimper and sighed knowing I had to tell him. Obviously, Sirius hadn't told him so now was my chance to tell him what truly happened.

"I broke two rules. Nearly broke three Remmy." His back straightened slightly as I spoke but he didn't speak, instead he allowed me the chance to explain my wrongdoings. "I got out of bed really late 'n' nearly missed my lesson but when I was making my way to my class Sirius stopped me in the corridor, I would've been on time if he hadn't. I told him I was going to be late because I knew it would be better to tell the truth but I wasn't fully awake yet so he said he could wake me up and pulled me into one of the empty rooms." I sniffled as he nodded for me to continue. "Siri said it would be okay because I was following his rules and being good to him so I wouldn't get in trouble with you but when he was finished he didn't let me cum and left me in the room on my own after telling me I was a bad girl and you were gunna be disappointed with me. I ran straight back up here and haven't been to any lessons. I didn't want him to lie to you about it." By the time I was finished, he looked angry and I sat on the bed with fresh tears on my cheeks, sniffling like a baby.

"Oh Bunny, you poor thing." He crooned, running his hand over my hair and wiping away one of my tears. "So Sirius lied to you about it being okay and then didn't let you finish. Is that why you're so upset? Because you want to cum?"

"Kind of, yes but because I was bad as well, I didn't mean to be bad, he said I was being good f'him." I shifted uncomfortably against the blanket which didn't go unnoticed.

"You're not bad, Sirius is the one that's bad Bunny and I'll be dealing with him later." His eyes travelled down to my curled-up legs. "Did he clean you up after at least?" I shook my head no as he gently pulled down the covers. I let my legs part as he moved my underwear to one side and sighed in frustration at our boyfriend. "Why haven't you cleaned his cum away Bun?"

"I didn't wanna break another rule so I left it," I admitted, blushing as he watched Sirius' cum leak from me. Remus shook his head and moved back to his sitting position before smiling at me softly.

"You're not a bad girl, you know you should get up earlier but if Sirius hadn't stopped you and done this then you would have been on time for the lesson which I would've let slide. As for what happened, That's his fault and he will be punished accordingly so don't worry, you didn't break the rules. I'm very proud that you didn't want to break another rule but you can still clean yourself up Love, we wouldn't class that as rule-breaking."

"Thank you for not being angry Remmy." I smiled, feeling a little better about the day now that he knew what had happened. With a sigh I sat up and shuffled into Remus' lap to cuddle him, knowing now he wasn't angry at me at all. His warm arms wrapped around me gently and I nuzzled into his chest, getting as close as physically possible, feeling a little better now I knew he wasn't angry with me.

"Let's get you cleaned up Love and then I can help you out." I nodded and climbed out of his lap and walked into the bathroom, whining when I felt something warm drip through my underwear and down my thigh. The lycanthrope chuckled as I watched it slip down my leg and began to strip off my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the bathroom floor as he got me some fresh underwear and one of his cardigans. He knew I hated wearing my clothes because his and Siri's were always more comfortable.

I waited in the bathroom for him to come back, shifting from one foot to the other as my hands stayed clasped in front of me, not wanting to be tempted into rule-breaking. As he walked back in, he smiled at me and kissed my head before stripping my underwear off and leaning me over the bathroom counter gently. I gasped as the cold surface met my chest and closed my eyes, holding in a whimper as he brushed his fingers over my hip gently, seeing the new bruises that had formed from Sirius' hands. I didn't mind the bruises, I actually loved having them, made me feel like I belonged. Seconds later, I jolted out of my thoughts as he started to clean me up, tutting to himself, being as gentle as always with me. A small moan slipped through my lips as he finished cleaning me, forgetting how sensitive and needy I was at the moment.

"Sorry Bun, "He pressed a kiss to my shoulder before sliding my feet into the underwear and pulling them up as I stood up from the counter. The wool of the cardigan glided across my skin as I melted into the fabric, encased in the Wolf's scent, and snuggled into his chest as I was buried in his arms. "That better now love?" I nodded against his chest and hummed happily before kissing his cheek gently.

"Thank you, Remmy." He gave me another squeeze before walking back into the room with me and patting his lap as he sat on the bed, against the headboard. I grinned and climbed onto the bed, settling myself so I was straddling him with my legs on either side of his hips. His hands looked huge against my thighs and I traced the scars on them with a small smile.

"Feeling better now little one?" His eyes were warm and kind as always. I nodded as his thumb rubbed against my skin, feeling a little more settled but still itching for some sort of contact. "Still feeling needy huh? Have you eaten yet Bunny?" I dropped my eyes from his and glanced at his hands shyly whilst shaking my head slowly. "Well, you need to eat a little something before anything happens because I don't want you getting ill." I nodded softly and clambered off his lap as he nipped down to the common room to make a sandwich. After he had brought it up and settled on the bed with me, I nibbled at it in little bits, glad to have the encouragement of my dom, not wanting to eat after the day I'd had but doing it because I knew he was right. Once I had finished half, I looked at Moony and he nodded in understanding, taking the plate and placing it on the bedside table, he knew I couldn't eat it all at the moment.

Minutes passed, and I let my food settle and had a drink of water before I started to feel fidgety and needy again. I pressed my face into the Lycanthrope's neck as I whined at him, hoping it would catch his attention. He chuckled but pulled my face to him, letting our lips connect into a gentle kiss. Instantly, I melted with a small sigh as my chest fell so it was pressing against his comfortably, soothed by the feeling of his thumb rubbing my skin gently. I whimpered quietly as I felt his bulge start to grow beneath me and tried as hard as I could to keep my hips still. Large hands slid from my thighs to my waist and started to move my hips slowly, silently allowing me to grind against him as my head started to cloud.

Warmth spread through my body as the anxiety and frustration I had from earlier melted away in lust for my Dom. The feeling of his rough hands against my hips mixed with the bulge beneath me had my back arching as I sped up the pace a little.

"Ah ah Bunny, you've had a very overwhelming and emotional day," He cut himself off with a low groan, grip tightening on my hips. "You need to take this slow or you'll drop and we know how bad you get when that happens don't we?" I knew the question was rhetorical so I slowed myself down back to the original speed before wrapping my arms around his neck loosely. His warmth soothed me until a chuckle began to rumble in his chest which caught my attention. "Bun, I can feel how wet you are right now and I've barely touched you. I can smell you too, you smell delicious." His voice lowered considerably when he said it and I hid my face in his throat as the blood flushed my already warm cheeks. "Awww my shy girl, don't have to be shy f'me Bun, let me see your pretty little face." I lifted my head to find him smiling at me lovingly and pulling open the buttons of the cardigan, exposing my bare chest to him. Warm lips met my collarbone as he kept my hips moving slowly but kissed any skin he could get to. I let my head fall back and my mouth open in a sigh of relief as his mouth made its way down to my nipples, which had hardened when the cool air of the dorm met them. I wrapped my fingers into his hair and pulled his head from my chest gently.

"Remmy, I really really need you," I pressed my forehead against his, pressing my core against him harder. "Please, want you to do whatever you want with me. Make me do anything to you, use my mouth or my body, anything." I truly was desperate for anything he was willing to give me, I was on the verge of tears.

"Bun, I'm not gonna use you, Sirius did that and you ended up in this state so I'm gonna help you and give you what you need and want. This is about you baby." His hands manoeuvred me as he spoke, placing me against the pillows carefully as my breath caught in my throat. "Now, what's my name little one?"

"Daddy, you're my Daddy." I didn't have the energy or patience to be bratty about it so I gave him the right answer the first time.

"Good girl, now let Daddy take these off," He tugged at the waistband of my underwear and I lifted my hips so he could slip them off. "Let me see my pretty girl." I let my legs spread and watched as he grinned and licked his lips as if he was hungry. "Atta girl." A gentle thumb rubbed patterns on my skin as he knelt on the bed, level with my throbbing heat. "Bunny's all wet f'me huh? D'you think I should help out?" I nodded furiously and bit my lip to hold in a whine at the teasing.

He chuckled darkly and slid his hands under my parted legs to hold them apart with strong hands before peppering kisses over the skin of my thighs, working closer and closer as he went. When the kisses reached where I wanted him most, he continued but avoided touching my clit. I whimpered as his grip tightened and he finally pressed his mouth to me, letting his tongue rub around my bundle of nerves. If it wasn't for his hands holding me down then I knew my hips would be pushing against his mouth as hard as I could. It didn't take long for him to get the idea of what I needed as his tongue finally met my clit, tracing circles into it. My legs tensed as a gasp escaped me, my eyes squeezing shut as a flash of long-awaited pleasure ran through me. I lifted my head and looked down at him, eyes meeting my Dom's as they sparkled.

"Daddy, please, need more." I felt breathless as he gave me just what I asked for, moving one of his hands to rub circles into my clit as his tongue thrust inside me with a groan. It didn't take long for the feeling to begin bubbling in my abdomen as he sped up, knowing by the way my body reacted that I wouldn't be able to last much longer. My breath got heavier as I moaned and gasped through the feeling, reaching my peak as he nipped at my clit. The world seemed to drown out as a much-needed feeling washed over me and I came, moaning and thrashing as he held me down and carried me through it.

"Shh shh, it's okay Bunny," He crooned, slowing his motions down before coming to a stop and pressing kisses to my trembling thighs. "That's daddy's good girl." The pet name made me feel warm and fuzzy as I drifted down from my peak, opening my eyes to find his amber eyes staring back at me. He licked his lips before running his hand over his mouth with a grin. "You really are delicious Bun."

I smiled and pulled him down towards me for a kiss, hands bunching into his jumper as his lips met mine. I pulled at it, letting him sit up to pull off the jumper and shirt so I could touch his bare chest, grinning at how warm he was. My fingers traced over his scars nonchalantly as they always did and he smiled down at me. I loved the feeling of the scars, they were a big turn-on for me, and him letting me touch them meant he trusted me, especially in such an intimate moment.

"Let's get you stretched out and I'll give you everything you want little one," I nodded softly and bit my lip as two of his fingers worked inside me, giving me enough to sigh in pleasure and relief but not satisfy me completely. "Good girl Bunny." The praise made the flush on my chest travel to my cheeks and a hazy smile made its way to my face.

"I wouldn't be doing that if I were you Moony," My moans were cut off by Sirius as he spoke up from the doorway. My eyes widened as I heard his voice and Remmy's thumb rubbed my hip to comfort me as he turned to meet Sirius' gaze. I could hear the smirk in his voice as he caught us.

"And why's that Pads?" His tone stayed neutral so he didn't tip the other male off that he knew what had happened. "She's my good girl and good girls deserve to feel good." The darker-haired male scoffed at the words, chuckling darkly as Remus rubbed his free hand on my thigh gently.

"Well, your good girl happens to be a rule breaker and apparently a liar Remus or didn't she tell you what she did?" Remus smiled down at me, hidden from Siri's gaze.

"Oh you mean about how she got up late and didn't go to a single lesson." Sirius nodded but gestured for him to continue to say there was more than just that. "And perhaps you mean about how she was taken into a side room with someone who just used her as a cumdump," My core clenched around his fingers at the words, "leaving her hurting and needy so she spent the day up here suffering and upset and so far in subspace that she thought cleaning herself up would be rule-breaking." Sirius' smug grin dropped as soon as he realised Remus knew and I couldn't help the slight smile on my face. "Or maybe you mean the part where you tricked her into thinking it wasn't rule-breaking because she was doing as you said, could possibly even be the part where you said you'd lie to me and say it was her idea." I knew Remus was unhappy and disappointed with his other sub by this point but his fingers didn't stop moving inside me, letting me feel him inside me as I let out soft whimpers and moans that broke through the tension. I almost cried out as the lycanthrope pulled his fingers out of me so he could stand, stalking toward Padfoot, but I swallowed it down because I was his good girl and didn't want to interrupt.

"Moony, I didn't mean for her to get hurt or upset." He began, "I saw her on the way to class and I couldn't help myself she was just so beautiful." My body flushed more at the unexpected compliment. "I just wanted to get a release is all." Remus shook his head in annoyance as he cornered the smaller boy with a dark grin.

"I don't care, you still did it even when you knew it wasn't allowed. And didn't you think that maybe Y/N wanted a release too rather than being used and left pent up with your cum still inside her for the day?" My body shivered at his words, my pussy clenched around the air. "Because that's how I found her. Crying on my pillow with your cum dribbling out of her. She missed out Pads, big time and now because of what you did you're gunna miss out too." As he spoke, Remmy pulled Sirius by the wrist over to one of the chairs and used wordless magic to bind him to it but not before removing his clothes with a spell.

"Moons, I didn't mean to, please don't make me sit here and -"

"I'm sorry, I didn't recall saying you had a choice or that you could speak did I?" His eyes glared into Siri's as he straightened himself out and began to strip off himself entirely. My mouth watered as he got entirely naked and I sat up slightly so I could watch the way his muscles shifted under his freckled skin. "I'm going to make her feel so good and you're going to watch and think about what you did and how you can make it up to her. And if she's not entirely satisfied then you'll have to do whatever she wants. Is that understood?" His voice was harsh and clipped as he walked back over to the bed, nodding in satisfaction when the tied-up boy agreed.

"Can I please have you now Daddy?" I begged, pulling his shoulders down as he came to kneel on the bed between my legs.

"Of course, you can Bunny." I smiled as he pulled me into a kiss, his tongue mingling with my own so the taste of my cum transferred into my mouth, leaving me moaning. My breath hitched in anticipation as Remus positioned himself at my entrance, using my cum as lubrication to push into my tight, throbbing heat. My grip on his shoulders tightened as he pushed into me as far as he could. A loud groan filled the room as the tip of his cock came to a stop against my cervix, unable to go any further; I never could fully fit him. Sirius' desperate moans faded into the background as my body jolted with short, sharp thrusts. I let my eyes meet his tear-filled grey ones as my own watered with pleasure and relief giving him an idea of what he could've had if only he'd played fair.

"Please Rem, it hurts," Siri whined as he tried to wiggle in his bands, hissing as the red, leaking tip of his cock rubbed against his stomach at the movement, eyes fluttering away from my face.

"That's a real shame Pads," The wolf growled sarcastically, gritting his teeth as I clenched around him, pulling him close to me. "Now you know how my Bunny felt." My walls fluttered as his thrusts sped up and I climbed towards my peak much quicker than I'd have liked. It didn't take long for him to find a specific spot along my velvet walls which made me see stars as a loud and almost pornographic moan ripped from my throat, making me gush around my Dom as I toppled over my peak and through my high. The way I tightened around him, had him moaning loudly and stuttering hips came to a stop as he buried as far into me as he could, thick ribbons of his cum coating my insides generously as he buried his face in my neck, biting down to leave his mark. He stifled his moans as they vibrated against my neck.

I raked my fingers through his hair as my vision came back into focus and listened to the sounds of his panting and last few moans. His head lifted slowly, letting his eyes fall on mine, before dipping to kiss me sweetly.

"Any better Bunny?"

"Much better, thank you, Daddy." I giggled as he pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose before pulling out slowly, hushing me as I whined at the feeling and overstimulation.

"D'you think we should let him help?" I hummed in thought for a moment before nodding up at him. "Okay Pads, you follow my every word or you go back on the chair." His curly hair bounced as he nodded vigorously. "You're going to kneel in between her legs and eat every last bit of my cum out of her, swallow it all, and then maybe I'll let you get some stimulation on you're selfish, needy cock." With a snap of his fingers, the binds fell away from the marauder's body and disappeared, allowing the boy to scramble over to the bed and straight to where Remmy said.

I worked through the sensitivity as his tongue began to lap at my pussy, ignoring how it quivered at the feeling. Large hands snaked around my thighs as he held my legs open for him so he could feast to his heart's content. I whined, feeling cum begin to slide out of me and down towards the bed sheets. Before it could get any further, Sirius' tongue licked a stripe from my ass upwards to catch it and swallow it down just as he'd been told to. Keening at the feeling, he buried his face into my pussy, suckling and slurping at me as my fingers curled into his hair and the bedsheets, loving how his fingers dug into my thighs. Small tears began to drip down my cheeks as the strength of my pleasure shook my thighs around his head. The sounds of his moans as he ate me out made my stomach clench in pleasure and anticipation and I found myself fighting to hold back the third orgasm of the day.

"Daddy," I gasped. "M'close again." A smile donned my Dom's face as he reached down to brush the hair from my face. My voice was barely a whisper as sobs of pleasure began to rack my body.

"Go ahead baby, cum on Padfoot's tongue."And with that, I let my body release what I'd been holding back, gasping my way through it. Though it was an amazing feeling, this was different from the others, more soothing because of the sensitivity and stimulation, leaving me feeling warm and fuzzy, like I was drifting. "That's it, good girl." His voice kept me grounded as I shuddered through the feeling, not being able to stop my trembling legs as he lapped at me, slower now. The subspace I had been suffering in earlier melted into a gentle and calm one that I had needed.

"Can't do anymore Daddy," I whimpered, fingers tightening in Sirius' curls as I tried to pull him away from my throbbing heat. "No more mouth, Daddy, tell 'im please." Remus chuckled and nodded at my request.

"Alright Pads, enough now." On cue, the mouth against me retracted and he came into view above me, a small grin but apologetic eyes as he hovered over me. He leaned down to kiss me softly and I reciprocated, enjoying his soft lips on my own. "Okay Bunny, One last time and then you can rest okay? I know we have you worked up but this will be last because he's been good and listened to me." I didn't have the strength to argue with him as my other Dom positioned my legs around his waist before pressing into me slowly. My back arched at the feeling, eyes rolling back and mouth open in a silent moan whilst the tears were wiped from my cheeks. His head fell into the crook of my neck as he thrust against me, having lost all of his composure from his punishment and eating what was left over from it. My eyes squeezed shut, my fingers scrambled against his back as he sped up, not being able to hold back as long as he'd like, my nails making crescent dents in his soft skin.

"Come on Poppet," He growled into my ear, with me whining in response. "One more, just one." His thrusts began to lose their rhythm as I clenched around him, eyes flowing with tears. "Cum for me Poppet." The way he moaned in my ear sent me over my final peak and I couldn't tell if the moan was loud or silent with how strong the feeling surged through me. I heaved for air as it was knocked out of my lungs, gripping onto whatever I could to try and stop the feeling of falling. It took what felt like a good while for me to come back to my senses.

"That's it Bunny, You're okay." The first feeling I could isolate was the way my legs trembled, aching from their spread position though there was nobody in between them anymore. My own broken breaths sounded in my ears as my heart thumped against my ribs. Gentle hands held my hair back from my face as my eyes fluttered behind their lids.

"Come on Poppet, come back to us." Sirius seemed to beg as he whispered to me, a large hand wiping the tears from my face as I came back down. I whined at the feeling of more cum slipping out of me and groaned as my eyes batted open and painfully lifted my aching legs to curl them to my side to stop the pain of being spread too long. "There she is." His grin looked relieved as he glanced down at me. The bed shifted beside me as Remus got up and returned from the bathroom with a warm, damp washcloth. My legs snapped shut around his hand as he started to clean up the mess that was left behind, hissing at the over-sensitive feeling that shocked my body.

"Now Bunny," The lycanthrope warned. "You have to let me clean you up. Can't leave you in this mess." Too exhausted to fight, I let him part my legs one more time and swipe, dab and clean away Sirius' cum and my own. All the while, I cried out in discomfort and slight pain but tried to focus on Sirius' gentle hand rubbing my stomach. It didn't take long for Remmy to finish his task but by the time he was stopping I weakly kicked his hands away, whimpering and welling up with more tears.

"No more, ouch Remmy, stop," I begged through tears, their faces blurring as Remus came to sit at the top of the bed with us. "Can't do it, hurts Rem, all done," I mumbled tiredly, making no sense but soothed by the covers that were pulled up over my body and the two boys that cuddled me and caressed my body sweetly whilst I floated.

"All done Bunny don't worry." A shivering exhale deflated my body, letting me relax bonelessly against the bed.

"Poppet," Sirius whispered, a hand running through my hair as my eyes met his own. "I'm sorry for what I did sweet girl, I won't ever hurt you like that again I swear. I'm sorry." I smiled softly at him and nodded, pulling him down for a gentle kiss to let him know he was forgiven.

"I think it's time you got some rest now though Bunny, Your body is exhausted and your head is too fuzzy so you need to sleep it off." Before Moony had finished talking, I was already drifting off. I finally fell asleep to the two protecting me and holding me to them like I was a prized possession.

[morwap]

not much on my mind but pretty boy theo nott w ur hickeys on his neck🙁

there theo stood, his tired eyes lazily scanning the common room, the hickeys you had gave him all over his neck peaking out from his sweater. how could he just stand there and be so pretty, it baffled you how he was yours and only yours.

his eyes brightened once they landed on you. you smiled and moved over on the couch, welcoming him to sit next to you.

[muxshwriting]

swimming

Regulus Black x reader

summary: living two lives as you try to navigate through a war. you and regulus have to try not to get caught while breaking down the barriers of both sides || warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of death, there's a war going on || word count: 1114 || masterlist

"Are we sure this will work?"

Regulus holds your hands within his. "Absolutely not. But we have to try."

"Okay."

Regulus reached a hand and knocked on the door of Remus and Sirius’ house, where the Order was currently meeting. A quiet shuffling could be heard inside and footsteps approached the door. It swung open and the person behind took one look at Regulus before thrusting their wand in his face.

"Good to see you too Sirius."

Regulus raised his hands, leaving his wand tucked in his waistband. But he also took a small step sideways, trying to cover you from immediate view.

"You here to kill us Reggie?" Sirius’ tone was sour and cutthroat.

"We’re not here to kill you, any of you. Can we talk?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes, glancing back at you. "Who the hell is she?"

"She’s my- Y/N is-" He stuttered a response, trying to find the best way to word it. "She’s here to help, please?"

"Give me your wands."

Regulus slowly handed his over and you hesitantly did the same. It wasn’t a nice feeling, giving someone else your wand. It was so personal to you, it chose you. You felt defenceless as you entered the house, weaving your way through until you were standing in front of the group.

"What are they doing here?" Someone asked.

"We're trying to get out." Regulus answered for both of you.

Moody scoffed. "There is no out."

"Exactly." Regulus stated. "We're doing what we can and then we're going to die."

"And when we're 'dead' we'll be free. We could go to France, Northern Italy maybe. Anywhere but here." You spoke up for the first time and Sirius’ eyes seemed to soften as you did but his expression remained serious.

You remembered him from school, a year older than you but infamous throughout Hogwarts. No matter how estranged him and Regulus had become, he always cared, deep down.

Remus asked the question everyone was wondering. "Why now? We're years into this war and now you chose to help us, why?"

Regulus glanced at you, squeezing your hand in reassurance. "We've got a future to think about. If we don't get out now, we never will."

Sirius' expression grew darker, if possible. "Are you serious? You're having in a kid in the middle of a war?"

"We weren't trying to."

He scoffed. "Clearly."

The anger bubbled inside you, threatening to boil over but you held it down. He didn't truly understand your situation, he didn't understand. You had to focus on the forward motion, keeping your head above water. The current would carry you where you needed to go but you had to guide yourself around the rocks and over the falls safely.

"We have a lot of information that will be useful for you all." You finally say, changing the subject. "Just hear us out."

"What kind of information?"

Regulus stepped up. "I can give you a list of Ministry officials that the Dark Lord has in his pocket, some under Imperius curse and some not. There's going to be an assault on one of muggleborn safe havens later this week, targeting those who protect others."

"It's the safe haven in Norfolk, attacking on Friday evening." You supply the specific details to the group who seem to pale further each second. “Six death eaters, they expect it to fall easily.”

"There are death eater recruitment programs wired into the fabric of Hogwarts education, specifically in Slytherin. People may not truly believe in the cause but they don't resist it enough to fully fight against it. For lots of purebloods, it's unthinkable to do what Sirius did, fight against his whole family and do the opposite to what they were raised to do." Regulus explained. "But there are plenty of weaker members who would abandon ship at the slightest notion of it beginning to sink. If you can get those people to leave, the dark forces have much less power than you realise."

"What are going to do now?" Moddy asked, his voice growling and deep.

"No one knows we came here. We'll return home, wait for the call and continue our lives as normal. No one can suspect anything."

"You-Know-Who is a skilled legilimens." He counters.

"Me and Reggie have been perfecting occlumency for many years in preparation for this. No one will know." You reassure them. "Even if they did find out, they'll kill us in an instant. You won't feel any repurcussions from it."

"This can only backfire on us."

When you and Reg get home, the air is palpable. There’s a nervousness between the two of you that you’d never felt before and it only increases the weight on your chest. It feels like a riptide pulling you out to sea. You can fight against it but it will only tire you out and drag you out either way.

"Reggie?"

He hums in response, asking without words.

"Do you think we did the right thing?"

"Yeah." He sighs. "Yeah, I think we did. But we’re not doing it for us, we’re doing it for them." He loops his arms around your waist and holds you close.

"For them." You agree. "I noticed you didn’t mention the horcruxes."

He tenses beside you and you regret bringing up the subject.

"Sorry-"

"Don’t. Don’t apologise." He says. "I don’t know if I should ever tell them."

"Reggie!"

"Would they even believe me?"

"Of course they would." You try and tell him. "We would make them, make them listen, make them believe. It’s the only way we can kill Him for good. Please Reg, we have to tell them at some point."

He nods silently, pressing a kiss into your forehead before pulling away. "Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Regulus didn’t sleep that night, he hardly ever did. The ceiling of your bedroom had become a familiar sight, illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the crack in the curtain. His mind ran at a million miles per minute, scheming for the future but telling no one of his plans.

He would hunt His horcuxes by himself, he didn’t want to involve you. When you were close enough to the Order, he would write a letter to Sirius and abandon you in the middle of the night. He didn’t want to leave you, but the war would give him no choice. Regulus would go to the cave with Kreacher, he’d probably die but there would be a fraction of evil destroyed.

You would hate him forever, never forgive him for leaving you but it was worth to change the tide of the war. Regulus would make it worth it. There was no other choice.

[moonlit-imagines]

warnings:

a/n: not enough wizarding world lore abt yule balls okay……ok

not requested

Well, it couldn’t have waited any longer. Took him six years to work up the courage despite spending six years sitting beside you in half his classes and six years chatting you up in the hallways. Some people thought it charming how nervous he got around you, others found it foolish. But no more, this was the day. Sebastian cleared his throat behind you, “Y/N, a word?” You turned and smiled at your good friend, waiting for him to go on. “You’re…” God, he was alert starting to freeze, “well, I have to say, you’re very special to me.” You chuckled.

“And you, as well, Sebastian.” You noticed a small group of Slytherin students in the distance, cackling as they watched the scene play out. “Is everything alright, Sebby?” You teased the boy who was already hot in the face.

“I—yes, it is. It’s just, I had something to tell—ask! Something to ask you.” His stuttering only made your classmates laugh harder. “I wanted to see if you’d go to the Yule Ball with me, as my date.” He paused and waited for you to respond, but nothing happened for a long few moments. “Please?”

“I would love that, Sebastian.” You chuckled, clearly teasing him with your silence. “Can’t believe it took you that long to say something.” His face only got redder, ears too.

“You and everyone else.”

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @the-did-i-ask // @azazel-nyx // @randomfandomimagine // @scarthefangirl // @locke-writes // @sweetjedi // @beth-gallagher22 // @bad4amficideas // @xoxobabydolls // @ruvaakke // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @nightmarefox15 // @plumes-de-nuit // @you-bloody-shank // @elenavampire21 // @pheonixfire777 //

[butterbeersworld]

# EVAN ROSIER

▪︎ HEADACHE

summary: reckless troublemaker Barty has a bad habit of landing himself in jail—isn't he lucky he has two people willing to put up with this rubbish?

[jackalope-patronus]

summary :: Sebastian convincing you you’re beautiful, although it’s not as romantic as you’d think.

warning :: british slang

note :: I’m not sure if I’ve done this right, but @myokk tagged me for WIP thingy, so here’s a WIP from me! Although it’s somewhat abandoned.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sebastian, not every boy in our year wants to snog me.”

“They do.” He said, far too quickly and far too confidently.

“Shall I leave if you’re deciding to convince her?” Ominis interjected.

“Stop it Ominis.” You swatted his shoulder playfully.

“Honestly though,” Sebastian continued, catching your gaze swiftly in his. His green eyes were serious, though you could see a grin peaking, “you are well fit.”

“Yes, that’s my time to go.” Ominis stood, taking his wand and books.

“Sebastian.” You whispered a warning, though your plum coloured face tugged Sebastian’s grin wider.

“Ominis isn’t a saint himself, he would, too.”

“Sebastian!” Your quick glance at Ominis, whose face had turned darker than your own suggested the brunette was correct.

“Well I’m only saying you’ve got your pick of the litter. Everyone is an option to you.”

“Well I’m certainly not eloping with you, if that’s what you’re insinuating.” You try to find refuge in your book, although you’re sure Sebastian is yet to be done with you.

[cherrixpie]

HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN

part two of five

↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it. only, you had some very perceptive friends.

↬ sfw; mostly fluff; wc: 3.4k; cw: none; secret relationship trope, potter!reader, griffindor! reader

get added to the tag list by commenting!

( masterlist )

“Be careful,” you whispered to him, words leaving your lips and being breathed in by Theo’s, just a fraction of an inch apart from yours. “Someone might already be up,” you said worriedly, pushing lightly at his chest. “Go!”

Theo didn't want to go. In moments like these, having you pressed up against your dorm door, hair disheveled from sleep, looking just about ready to be devoured, it was hard to keep being the sensible one. But you were right. Stealing one last kiss, full of morning breath and murmured Italian endearments, Theo parted from you. “See you later, principessa,” he promised seductively, relishing in the little blush that took over your cheeks.

“If you aren't taken apart by a stray griffindor on your way back,” you retorted in a hushed tone and Theo chuckled carelessly. Sparing you one last glance, heavy with something undefined, he took the stairs down. The wooden steps of the griffindor tower creaked faintly under his careful steps, the sound swallowed by the quiet hum of the early morning.

The griffindor common room was empty, save for the dying embers in the fireplace casting flickering shadows on the walls. In a few steps, he had crossed the length of the room and paused near the portrait hole, his sharp eyes scanning the room one last time before pushing the frame open, scrunching together his eyebrows when the fat lady stirred and muttered something in her sleep.

He stepped into the cool corridor, reminiscing in the memories of last night. A particularly haunting nightmare had made him restless, so restless, in fact, that he couldn't resist to grab his broom and fly a few rounds around the quiddditch pitch. Only, that hadn't helped the images popping up in his head any time he closed his eyes. So he flew up to your window daringly, knocking and damn near giving you a heart attack.

Luckily, your fellow dormitory students were already fast asleep when you opened the window for him. After some exchanged hushes of worry and excitement, you had pulled him into your bed, letting him engulf you in a hug as you rested against his chest. Which was how you awoke the next morning, with you getting him out of your dormitory before your friends woke up.

Theo congratulated himself on sneaking out of enemy territory unseen. Enemy, of course, except for you. A smile tugged at his lips in spite of himself as his mind vividly recounted your hands in his hair, soothing him to sleep. There was no other person who he could trust this unconditionally, not just with his body, but with his soul. Soul. Unbelievable, that he was starting to lament over such sentimental crap. But looking into your eyes, it was a challenge not to become one of the lovesick, sappy idiots he used to sneer at.

“What are you doing here?”

Theo was ripped out of his reminiscent haze by a shrude voice and he cursed himself for letting down his guard and deviating from his usual vigilance. Ron Weasley stood in front of him, panting in his quidditch attire with a broom clutched in his hand. Tensely, he stared at Theo, looking just about ready to jump him.

“I didn't know borrowing books was a reasonable offense now,” Theo remarked with a disparaging smile, brushing past the ginger without a second glance to avoid further questioning.

The boy opened his mouth in protest and shot around in the direction Nott had taken off, but the corridor was empty, save for the portraits who had watched the exchange with mild interest. Some of them sniggered and Ron threw a nasty scowl their way, pushing open the portrait hole. Strange. But he shrugged it off, opting to catch a few minutes of sleep before breakfast.

“Have you slept a single hour last night?” Hermoine asked pointedly when you yawned for the third time since breakfast. Propping up her book so Slughorn wouldn't catch the two of you whispering, she raised a brow. “You look really tired, maybe you should-”

“I’m fine,” you cut her off with a reassuring smile, copying down the ingredients for an amortentia potion. Indeed, you had been a little caught up with staring at your sleeping boyfriend's face last night other than sleeping. But how were you supposed to rest when your heart beat like a jackhammer at his arm around your waist. “You’ll just have to coordinate the brewing, I’m afraid, or I’ll release a biochemical weapon onto the class.” Hermoine laughed.

Just then, Slughorn demanded the class’s attention, waving a sheet of parchment in his hands. “For this lesson, I thought we would switch things up a bit.” A loud groan echoed through the class and Hermoine and you exchanged exasperated glances. Only Slughorn seemed truly delighted by the idea as he flattened the parchment, reading out the assigned pairs.

Hermoine got paired up with Malfoy, to her great displeasure, but when Slughorn got to the letter ‘P’, he paired up Harry with Dean and you with- “Mr Nott,” Slughorn announced, rolling up the parchment. “Please, get together in your assigned pairs. You have one hour to brew an amortentia potion. Start … now!”

“Poor us,” Hermoine sighed, packing her things. Oh, yes. Poor you. Sneaking a glance at Theo, you saw him hoist his quill, parchment and books into his arms to come over. The bags under his eyes were a little more pronounced than usual, and you knew why. Looking at him made your heart beat louder once more. “It’s just one hour,” you attempted to comfort Hermoine who took off, steering towards a very displeased looking Malfoy.

“May I sit here?” a grave voice whispered way too close to your ear. Flinching, you jerked your head back and made room for Theo to sit, sending him a firm look. But no movement disturbed the perfect symmetry of his features as he sat down, collecting the ingredients on the table before you. Shyly, you dared brush your hand with his and saw his perfect lips twitch in the corner of your eye.

His hand fell under the table as if by chance, and he hooked his pinkie finger around yours, squeezing it gently. A silent exchange. Releasing your hand, Theo opened his book and propped it up, igniting the fire beneath your cauldron with a simple flick of his wand. If you hadn't known better, you’d have been deeply intimidated by the irked glance he spared you. “Focus, Potter. I don't want to fail this lesson because of you.”

“Are your skills so poor they deflate in the presence of my humble self?” you retorted, attempting to suppress a grin. He was better at this, at controlling his expression to a tee, masking his true feelings with indifference and disdain. You, on the other hand, were faced with the challenge of not breaking out into a bright smile any time you two locked eyes, if you didn't want to blow your cover.

Without another comment, Theo assigned the task of cutting up the ingredients to you, giving you exasperated looks any time you didn't chop them up fast enough. But when your half-finished potion let out a loud hiss and puffed out a thick cloud of smoke, as described in the instructions, he leaned over, a tender smile on his lips. “You’re doing very good, tesoro,” he whispered and left you scrambling to hide your gleeful smile once the smoke had subsided.

Catching Zabini staring at the two of you, you kicked Theo under the table who understood immediately and gave you a slighting glare. "Careful, Potter. If you don't chop those properly, Slughorn's going to lecture both of us."

You gave him an equally dirty look, pointing the cutting knife at him. "Why don't you do it, then? Afraid you'll ruin those perfectly manicured nails?" Theo's eyes glinted, lingering in the knife until they flickered up at your eyes and you recognized the expression. Of course Theo liked knifes, you thought to yourself sarcastically and went back to chopping the ingredients, with Theo still looming over you, the sole focus of his attention.

"Didn't notice you fancied my hands so much, Potter." Yes, he did. Only a week ago had he teased you about it when your gaze lingered on them for a second too long. Long enough to catch his attentive eye and earn you a string of teasing comments and insinuations that had left you as a flustered mess. Feeling someone's eyes on you, you glanced up and met Hermoine's, so you turned to Theo sharply and glared as convincingly as possible.

"You're a distracting batard, you know? And if I get caught making mistakes because of you, I'm blaming you in front of Slughorn." The amused expression in his eyes revealed to you just how entertaining this was for him, this throwing around backhanded insults, flirting just subtly enough to avoid suspicion, teetering the edge with every sentence and challenging himself to absolute composure and self control. And you found yourself growing quite excited in expectation of his retort, eyes lingering on the dangerous curl of his perfect lips.

"Oh no," Theo remarked with faux distress. "Anything but the wrath of a Griffindor with hurt feelings." You'd have loved it to shove your elbow into his side, but settled for a cold glower. "One of these days, I'm going to wipe that smirk off your face, Nott."

Theo sure wasn't lying when he chuckled: "Looking forward to it, Potter." Casually, his gaze brushed over the ingredients you had chopped increasingly unevenly over the course of your banter. "If you're trying to sabotage this potion, you're doing an excellent job."

Caught red handed, you pouted at him defiantly, knowing it would rile him up. "I don't need your approval, Nott." When he replied, his voice was much closer to your ear than expected. "That's funny, considering how much time you spend trying to impress me."

Jolting back in your seat, you looked around the room frantically, but for once, your classmates seemed to mind their own business. But still, you turned back to Theo with fake fury laced into your tone. "Impress you? Please. You'd be lucky if I even noticed you existed outside of this table."

A delighted little smile made its way to Theo's stone cold expression, soon replaced by a mocking expression. "Oh, I think you notice plenty, Potter."

Every single one of his snide comments and remarks, eagerly returned by you, were accompanied by a glint of amusement in his eyes, and if he was feeling particularly bold, a soft squeeze of your thigh under the table. The first time he did it, you flinched and caught a weird look from Hermoine. When you frowned at Theo, he simply smiled indesipherably.

Slowly, your potion started taking on it’s signature smell. Breathing in, you could've rolled your eyes when the smell of smoke penetrated your nose, paired with that of parchment and mint. When you looked up, you found Theo already looking at you with an unmistakably hungry expression that had you blink meekly in your seat before burying your flushed face in your potions book.

At the end of the lesson, your potion was as pinkish as described in the instructions and Slughorn smiled at you both with a pleased expression. “Amortentia indeed. Miss Potter, Mr Nott, you make a rather fine pair, this is just right. Not that I would have expected anything less from either of you…”

You resisted the urge to look at Theo, because you knew whatever expression graced his face, it would surely make you smile traitorously. With an extra O on your wrap sheet, you left the classroom for lunch with Hermoine, Harry and Ron, eager to meet with Theo later that day. But your plans were cut short when Hermoine asked: “Will you be in the common room tonight? I heard the library is closing early.”

“Really?” you exclaimed in surprise. The library had been your common excuse for dates with Theo, and you also sensed that Hermoine was watching your reaction closely. “Well,” you said, feeling it would be suspicious if you didn't agree, “I guess so, yeah.”

“Good,” Hermoine said heartily as you strolled past the Slytherins and you resisted the urge to look at Theo. “Because Harry, Ron and I-” Both boys violently shook their heads at her and she rolled her eyes. “Fine, because I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Already suspicious about what that ‘something’ might be, you forced an unasuming smile upon your face. “Great, just great.”

Hermoines eyes bored themselves into your back as you excused yourself to go to the toilet, watching your frame diasappear behind a corner. Ron raised his brows as he stilled in his step. “You coming, or what?” Shooting him a nasty look, she trailed along, but before she could scold Ron, he raised his voice once more, in a blatant attempt to distract her. “Hey, guess who I ran into this morning leaving the Griffindor tower?”

“Who?” Harry and Hermoine asked and Ron lowered his voice for dramatic effect. “Theodore Nott,” he revealed theatricly, clasping his hands together. “Said he was 'borrowing a book' but he looked like he was in quite a hurry, and pretty disheveled at that. And you know how prim and proper that bloke strolls around the halls. Hair like a bird’s nest, I tell you.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Bet that he planted some kind of trap there, maybe we should check the common room tonight.”

“Maybe,” Hermoine said, lost in thought, looking out of the window onto the grey sky.

“Maybe he was looking for our quidditch strategies,” Harry speculated, taking to steps at a time. “We're playing them this weekend, after all.”

“Yeah, that’ll be it!” Ron exclaimed, but Hermoine did not look convinced.

Neither of them brought the topic up again though, until it quite literally ran into them. As they walked around a corner, they saw Nott himself striding out of a corridor and disappearing in the direction of the great hall. “What was he doing in the corridor of the girl's toilets?” Ron laughed once he was out of earshot. As daring as he was, he was not stupid enough to challenge Nott to an altercation.

But the topic of lunch soon became the more pressing one as they entered the great hall, no one noticing your late arrival, disheveled hair or un-tucked shirt.

Theodore Nott would not describe himself as a romantic. In spite of his Italian heritage, he was everything but sappy. In fact, he thought he had a rather raw opinion of life and the world. Theo did not smile to himself while delving in memories, he did not savor touch or words, he didn't spend afternoons thinking of dates, he didn't believe in love as anything other than hormones. Until you came along and disrupted his whole worldview.

Relationships had always been transactions for him, mostly sexual, pushing people away before he had a chance to get attached. Theo didn't need love or pining or butterflies in his stomach, or daydreams of you, there was a damn war on the doorstep. And that it had to be you, specifically. But of course, he would fall for someone so far out of his reach that he had to go to truly ridiculous lengths to see you. And still, it was worth it a hundred times.

“Mate, you have been staring daggers at the Griffindor table for the last five minutes,” Blaise said, nudging him and making Theo blink in irritation. He had been watching you intently as you talked with your friends, trying to balance food, the conversation and the book you had to read for your next lesson. Cute. Utterly endearing, in fact.

“It’s scary. You haven't blinked once for at least five minutes,” Blaise continued, stealing the untouched food from Theo’s plate who couldn't care any less. You had just risen from your seat, almost tripping over the bench and laughing about your mistake as you threw your back over your shoulder and hurried out of the hall. When Theo showed no reaction to his comment, Blaise nudged him again and Theo begrudgingly took his eyes off you. “What's got your head in a wrap, you old grump?”

“Nothing,” Theo said, rubbing his eyes. Not only had he had a nightmare, he also had had a hard time sleeping last night when you were just inches from him, in your fucking bed in your cute pyjamas and those starry eyes, looking just about ripe to be devoured-

“Theo, how much did you sleep tonight?” Enzo asked worriedly, a spoonful of sauce halting its movement halfway to his mouth.

“And more importantly, where?” called Mattheo from next to him, flicking his fork at Theo that he dodged.

“Common room,” he muttered, but the boys glanced sceptically at each other. “You weren't on the quidditch pitch all night, were you?” Draco groaned and rolled his eyes when Theo didn't answer. “Hey, the team needs you at your best this weekend, if Potter wins I might actually have to throw myself off the Astronomy tower!”

“And what a loss for the world that would be,” Theo remarked sarcastically, prompting the others to laugh while Draco kicked him under the table.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” you asked expectantly, sitting down on the couch next to Hermoine who glanced at you wearily. It was almost midnight and the common room was empty, save for the four of you lounging by the fire, the sound of the cackling fire occasionally disrupted by a short conversation.

“You…,” Hermoine hesitated, “You’ve been a little distant lately and we were just wondering… is everything alright?” You were so stunned by the question which you really should have seen coming that you didn't answer for a few seconds. Blinking at the three frowning faces in varying stages of worry and suspicion, you smiled.

“That's really sweet of you, but I’m fine, really. Just… a lot of school,” you said, giving them a convincing smile.

But Hermoine didn't seem satisfied with your answer. “You told me you would visit the library last week. Well, I was there. You weren't.” Right. You hadn't been at the library because you had snuck out to the school grounds, making your way to the lake swiftly where Theo was already waiting for you.

Sometimes the two of you needed words and sometimes you didn't. That day, you didn't. Instead, he had guided you between his legs to sit down, his arms engulfing you from behind and shielding you against the cold. Lost in your individual trains of thought, you had watched the shimmering reflections of the enlightened windows decrease in number until there was only the cool light of the moon. That was when Theo had risen at last, pulling you up with him. He had taken your hand, like it was the most normal thing in the world, and the two of you had walked back to the castle. Like the gentleman he was, he had even taken you to Griffindor tower and kissed you good night, dismissing the risk of Filch catching him.

The two of you had barely talked that evening, but it had left you so calm and fulfilled as if you had shared a heartfelt conversation. And maybe you had. Maybe you had discovered other means than words to convey your feelings to each other.

“It was kinda crowded in there,” you tried to talk your way out of the situation, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. Once more, you were reminded that nonchalance was not something you could simply pick up from somebody- or you’d have lied your way out of this one already.

“Oh, come on,” Ron groaned, shooting you an exasperated look. “You’re acting weird. You’re always off doing something, and when you’re with us you’re not really there because we gotta talk to you several times for you to notice it!”

“Now, that's a massive exaggeration!” you protested, folding your arms over your chest. Sure, maybe you’d gotten lost in thought a few times over the last months, but not remotely as often as Ron made it sound.

“You’re acting shifty,” Ron pressed, pointing an accusing finger at you. “And I know shifty!”

Hermoine rolled her eyes at him, looking like she was contemplating a crime. “I only wanted to say,” she sighed, “that we're a bit worried. Is there maybe… I mean,” - she raised her brow suggestively - “Are you … seeing someone?”

“What?” Harry exclaimed and splurted out a full mouth of butterbeer into the hissing fire, seeming utterly stunned by the possibility. “You mean-” He looked from Hermoine at you and back again. “Wait, seriously?”

“Well,” Hermoine interrupted him. “It's really none of our business. We just wanted to make sure.”

“Wait a second,” Harry chimed in and you couldn't help but laugh at the incredulous on his face. “This is serious, I need to know this, I’m your brother!” “When did you start getting all browy and overprotective?” you sneered, laughing at his expression. “What do you even care? Did I pry when you started dating Cho?”

Harry mumbled something under his breath, but Ron looked amused. “Assuming you won't reveal the identity of whatever bloke you’re dating-” “Hold up, when did I confirm I was dating anybody?” “-who might the mystery man be?” The topic seemed much more interesting to him than his potions homework which lay discarded worryingly close to the fire. Propping himself on one elbow, he scanned you up and down. “I bet you’re not dating Seamus or Dean or we would know. And you don't seem like the type to go for older guys.” He glanced at Hermoine. “Someone in Ravenclaw maybe?”

Hermoine’s glare had him growing quiet. “This is childish, Ron. And who says she isn't dating a girl?”

“You all seem pretty dead-set on the dating theory,” you remarked but it went unheard, or at least overheard.

“As long as it’s not a Slytherin,” Ron told you in a comforting tone, “It's fine and we’ll live with it.” As if it was a truly ridiculous idea, he began bellowing with laughter, but you only joined in half-heartedly. If you had needed any more confirmation that nobody could know about you and Theo, here it was, laughing you in the face.

taglist: @annaisabookworm [get added to the tag list by commenting]

[luvendiary]

pearled shell / f. weasley

fred weasley x reader

summary: you never expected to catch the attention of a certain gryffindor, especially when you had never tried to catch anyones attention in your life. based on this request. warnings: not proofread. no use of y/n. 4k words.

Fred Weasley had faced plenty of challenges in his life — slipping past Filch undetected, charming Filibuster fireworks into dancing hearts, convincing his mum that “experimenting” with Doxy venom was absolutely safe and in no way a terrible idea.

But none of that, (not even the time he nearly singed his eyebrows off trying to enchant a toilet seat) compared to the impossible task of getting you to say more than two words to him.

You weren’t rude. Merlin, no. You were just… quiet.

Always tucked away in the corner of the common room, either half-buried in a book bigger than your torso or scribbling into a journal that looked like it had lived in your bag for years. You smiled when spoken to, nodded when asked questions and such. Always polite, reserved and respectful. Nothing more, nothing less. At least not to those who weren’t your close friends.

To someone like Fred, who thrived on noise and chaos and clever banter, your stillness was a mystery. And Fred Weasley loved a good mystery.

He’d first noticed you one winter afternoon.

He and George had taken over the courtyard with their newest invention: a firework you could toss around like a baseball, one that erupted in brilliant sparks when caught. It wasn’t exactly Ministry-approved, but that had never stopped them before.

The crowd had gathered quickly, laughter echoing through the stone archways. Fred lit up in moments like that. Grinning. Buzzing with energy. Soaking up every cheer like fuel.

As he scanned the onlookers, noting the wide-eyed third years, the snickering Hufflepuffs, even a particularly skeptical Ravenclaw in the back; something off to the side caught his eye.

Or rather, someone.

You weren’t in the crowd. Not even close. You were perched quietly on the edge of one of the archways, legs tucked beneath you, a thick book resting on your lap. It was closed for the moment, one finger carefully holding your place between the pages. You weren’t smiling. Not frowning either. Just watching. Calm. Still.

Curious.

Fred squinted, trying to make out your expression. But it was unreadable. Like a blank page he couldn’t decipher. No obvious amusement. No disapproval. Just… observing.

And then, your eyes met his.

It was fleeting. A split second, if that. But he caught the way your eyes widened, just slightly, before you quickly looked back down at your book.

Most people wouldn’t have noticed.

Fred did.

He grinned.

As George threw the fireball back his way, Fred caught it with an unnecessarily dramatic flourish. The crowd roared. And he hoped — just hoped — that it would draw your attention again.

It worked.

Your head turned. Slowly. Eyes lifting from the pages just in time to see Fred launch the glowing orb straight into the air, where it exploded in a brilliant bloom of golden sparks, raining light across the stone patio like tiny stars.

He didn’t know what struck him more, the sight of the fireworks scattered above them or the small, quiet smile that tugged at your lips before you turned away.

You slipped back into the castle without a word. He wasn’t sure whether it was the sight of the patio covered in stars or the small smile that appeared on your lips that made his stomach turn. Either way, as you walked away, he made it his goal to make you do it again.

Fred Weasley had begun turning up in the quiet corners of your life.

The library, the corridors, your favorite spot by the Whomping Willow…he was always there.

You’d never exchanged more than a few words, but somehow, his presence had settled into your routine like a familiar echo. Comforting, in an odd sort of way.

It wasn’t just physical, either. He started bleeding into everything—into the edges of your thoughts, into the silence between pages, into the background of your world. Wherever you turned, it seemed, there was some small trace of Fred Weasley.

He’d tried speaking to you a few times. You kept your replies short, polite, and measured. Never giving more than necessary. A smile here and there. That had always seemed to be enough.

Until now.

It started, like most disasters do, with a bang.

One moment dinner was carrying on as usual; clinking cutlery, puffing steam from hot dishes, and the occasional enchanted plate zooming through the air from some first-year's over-eager charm.

Next thing you knew, the ceiling of the Great Hall was lit up with swirling sparks. A cloud of shimmering pink smoke exploded above the Gryffindor table, showering the students in harmless glitter. At the center of it all stood Fred and George Weasley, grinning.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Fred’s voice echoed. “Behold, our latest creation–”

“Name still pending!” chimed in George.

“Guaranteed to make your crush fall head over heels or at least sneeze glitter for three days straight!”

Laughter erupted across the hall. A few students ducked. Some clapped. Filch stormed in with a bucket and murder in his eyes.

And Fred, as always, basked in it.

George gave a dramatic bow and gestured toward the crowd. “But of course, we need a demonstration.”

Fred’s eyes scanned the room. Some students leaned forward, hoping to be picked. Others groaned, already preparing to dodge the next round of magic. Most of them laughed and applauded, enjoying the chaos that always seemed to follow the twins.

But Fred?

Fred’s gaze found you.

Tucked near the end of the Gryffindor table, half-hidden behind a jug of pumpkin juice, you sat frozen. A fork midway to your mouth, expression something between confused and horrified.

Fred’s grin stretched wider.

“Oh look,” he said with mock surprise, as he lazily jumped off the table he was currently standing on, “there she is, the mystery girl herself.”

You blinked.

You knew he meant you. Of course you knew. He’d been bothering you gently for weeks. Waving in corridors, sending charmed paper frogs to land on your books, tossing compliments like confetti whenever he passed by.

And now he was walking toward you. Through the glittering smoke. Through the stares. Through the entire Great Hall.

You panicked.

In a quick, frantic move, you ducked your head and turned to your side, suddenly very interested in talking to the fourth-year next to you.

Fred slid onto the bench next to you anyway.

As if it was second nature, you tried to scoot away from him, just to be blocked by George on your other side.

You could feel the entire table watching. Staring. You could feel the pink glitter in your hair.

You felt Fred’s arm draping over your shoulder.

“Please don’t,” you whispered rather pathetically.

You caught the moment his gaze softened. His eyes flickered between yours.

You swallowed hard. “Everyone’s staring.”

He smiled gently. “That’s just because they’re jealous I picked the prettiest girl in the room.”

Your breath caught.

A beat of silence passed between you, and then—

You ducked your head again, a hand coming up to shield your face as a quiet, mortified laugh escaped you.

Fred’s grin grew.

“Was that a laugh?” he gasped. “That was definitely a laugh! You owe me three Sickles!” he said as he stared at George.

“I wasn’t laughing,” you muttered.

“Right,” George said smugly, “it was more of a giggle. Completely different.”

“Please,” you said again, this time with a little more power in your voice.

Fred thought he could’ve melted right then and there. The way you stared up at him, those big eyes of yours engraved in his memory completely. He would be dreaming of them tonight.

“Tell you what. We’ll spare you of this if you tell me your name.”

You were going to protest, try to plead with George maybe, but his words made you stop in your tracks. “What?”

“I think we’re past pleasantries at this point don’t you? I can’t keep calling you ‘mystery girl’ forever.”

You tried to fight a smile, as you furrowed your eyebrows. Nevertheless, you extended your hand and introduced yourself.

They both repeated your name with glee and each shook a hand. You didn’t miss Fred’s wink.

You opened your mouth to argue, but Fred stood suddenly, clapping his hands dramatically as he turned to face the hall again.

“Apologies, everyone!” he called. “She’s too charming to share.”

As laughter and clapping resumed, Fred sent you one last smile, all warmth and trouble. “Same time tomorrow?” he whispered.

You ignored him, fixating on your robes, which were covered in with small shiny particles, you picked a fleck of pink glitter from your sleeve and tried very hard not to smile too obviously.

Fred Weasley was intelligent, despite what other people might think at first. His brain, however, extended beyond the realm of academic intelligence toward other, more useful things — like how to levitate a dungbomb into Filch’s coat pocket without getting caught, or which combinations of Bertie Bott’s beans definitely shouldn’t be consumed on a dare.

So, the sight of him in the library, at a desk, surrounded by actual books, was enough to make Madam Pince do a double take. And possibly consider retirement.

Books were sprawled around him. Big ones. Dense ones. The kind with footnotes and unfriendly fonts. His brows were furrowed in deep concentration, one hand in his hair, the other clenching the page of a book titled:

“The Magical Mind: An Exploration of Wizard Psychology.”

Across the table sat a second stack; all books he’d seen you reading over the past few weeks. Quietly, steadily, without fuss. He’d remembered the titles. Of course he had.

“Honestly,” he muttered, “how in the bloody hell does she enjoy this?”

“Language, Mr. Weasley,” came the familiar hiss of Madam Pince from somewhere behind a stack.

Fred jumped, muttered an apology, then went back to the book.

He wasn't trying to become a genius overnight. He just… wanted to understand. Why did you spend hours with these books. What it was about them that made you furrow your brow or bite your lip while you read. He wanted to sit across from you and say something, anything, that didn’t sound like a bad pick-up line made of glitter and nerves.

Unfortunately, this plan had one major flaw: the books were winning.

Still, he didn’t give up. He lasted two whole chapters of that psychology book, another on magical theory, and half a novella about cursed heirlooms before his brain started to liquefy.

But he left the library with scribbled notes in the margins of an old roll of parchment. Just in case.

The next evening at dinner, he waited until halfway through the meal before sliding into the seat across from you. The fifth years who had been previously sitting comfortably there, now slightly bunched together, muttering complaints.

You glanced at him, startled. Still, you didn’t move away.

“Hi,” he said, and there was no teasing in his voice.

“Hi,” you said back, quiet as ever.

He cleared his throat. “So. I’ve been reading.”

Your eyes widened slightly. Not surprised, but rather confused.

“I mean, not just reading-reading. Like—” He fished a crumpled bit of parchment from his pocket. “This stuff. The one with all the weird brain diagrams. Psychology.”

A pause. You blinked.

Fred shifted nervously. “Was trying to understand why you like them. The books. And I didn’t — I mean, not fully, but I thought that chapter about magical projection and identity repression was kind of interesting?”

It came out more as a question rather than a statement, much to his dismay.

Your mouth parted slightly.

“You know,” he added hastily, “in a terrifying ‘I don't think I’m smart enough to be reading this’ sort of way.”

And then, you laughed.

A real one. Soft and surprised, but unmistakably there.

Fred stared.

“I didn’t peg you as a psychology type,” you said, tilting your head.

“I’m not,” he said. “But I figured if you liked it, it might be worth a try.”

You looked down, suddenly shy again. However, this time, your smile didn’t vanish.

After a beat, you nudged your pumpkin juice toward him. “Want to hear what I actually thought about that chapter?”

Fred’s grin could’ve lit the whole hall. “More than anything.”

The sun was beginning to dip, spilling honey-gold light across the courtyard and painting the stones in soft warmth. A gentle breeze tugging at your sleeves, the scent of summer clinging to the edges of spring.

You were sitting on the steps of the Astronomy Tower beside Fred, the two of you tucked just out of view. Alone, but not awkwardly. It had become something of a pattern, these quiet meetings.

No grand declarations. No need for conversation if there was nothing to say. Sometimes he brought little inventions to fiddle with. Sometimes you brought a book. Today, you had your journal propped against your knee, the paper fluttering with each breath of wind. A charcoal pencil twirled idly between your fingers.

Fred was hunched beside you, elbows on his knees, wand in one hand and a vaguely cube-shaped object in the other that occasionally buzzed or blinked with orange sparks.

He’d barely looked up for ten minutes.

Until now.

“What are you doing?” he asked. You could tell that the cube was no longer holding his attention. Instead, you could feel his gaze on you.

You hesitated, your pencil freezing mid-stroke.

Fred noticed.

He turned slightly, eyebrows raised. “That your journal again?”

You gave a small nod.

“Can I see?”

You glanced at him, at the hopeful lilt in his tone, at the way his eyes sparkled just slightly in the sunlight. And then looked back down at your lap.

“It’s not writing,” you murmured.

“No?”

“…Drawing.”

Fred blinked. “You draw?”

Another nod. Your thumb smudged a shadow near the edge of the page.

He leaned closer. “Is it bad that I’m now ten times more curious?”

You sighed, quietly amused, but didn’t close the book, holding it close to your chest instead. “I don’t usually show people.”

Fred didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he shifted his weight to face you properly, stretching one leg out lazily on the stone. The object in his hand fizzled to silence.

“You don’t have to,” he said, voice lower now. “Really. I just… I’ve never seen you like this.”

You tilted your head. “Like what?”

He smiled. Not the wide, performative one he wore in the halls — but a softer, private one that barely reached the corners of his mouth.

“Still and focused. Not hiding behind your book or nervously escaping dinner tables,” he teased.

Your face flushed. You ducked your head, lips twitching.

“I didn’t run,” you pointed out.

“You tried,” he grinned knowingly.

You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a smile. He had that effect on you. Making you smile even when you didn't want to. When you were pissed off or having a bad day, he somehow alway made it slightly better.

You turned the book, slowly, and angled it toward him.

The page was filled with sharp lines — a sketch of the tower railing, the clouds beyond, and two figures sitting side by side on the steps. One of them unmistakably had wild, messy hair and a mischievous curve to his grin.

Fred stared.

“That’s—” He blinked. “That’s me.”

You gave the tiniest shrug. “You sit still long enough sometimes. It’s useful.”

He looked at the page again, quieter now.

“You’re really good.”

“Thank you.”

He reached out, hesitated, then gently touched the edge of the sketch — careful not to smudge it. He was quiet for a moment, just staring at it. You stared at him instead.

You really stared. You thought he looked beautiful then. Completely unguarded, all soft. If he hadn’t been holding your journal, you would have jumped at the opportunity to draw him like this.

You saw it when he changed. When he put up that performative mask of his. All the softness gone, replaced by sharpness.

“I do look rather handsome don’t I? I hope you don’t draw everyone like this,” he said. All smugness and charm. As if he was putting on a performance.

You smiled, finally looking at him.

“Just the ones I want to remember.”

His mask slipped for a fraction of a second at your sincere response, and he went back to staring at the page.

Now, with nothing to focus your attention on, you started fiddling with the pencil still in your hand.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said, not daring to look at him.

“Do what?”

“Pretend. You’re not on a stage, not with me at least. There’s no need to give me a certain reaction. No need for that charming front you always put on.”

He peered up at you, a lopsided grin adorning his features. “You think I’m charming?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. “What I’m saying is…I’m my most vulnerable when doing that…” you said as you gestured towards the journal still in his hands. “There’s no need to be intimidated by it. If there’s anyone who should be nervous it would be me.”

He blinked at you, shaking his head softly with a confused smile.

You readjusted your position and sat up straighter, staring at him. “Tell you what, if you give me something completely sincere — no cheeky remark, no smugness — I’ll let you keep it.”

Fred looked down at the journal in his hands again. Then, slowly, closed it, careful with the pages like it was something fragile. Sacred.

“Something honest?”

You hummed in agreement.

He stayed quiet for a moment before sighing deeply and running his hand through his hair.

“I like the way you see me,” he said quietly. “Not just in the sketch — though that was ridiculously cool — but… you see the bits of me most people don’t bother to look for.”

You didn’t interrupt. You could tell he wasn’t finished.

“I’m always the loud one,” he went on. “The twin who sets off fireworks in broom closets and drives McGonagall to the edge of retirement.” A smile tugged at his lips at that, but it faded almost immediately. “And I like being that. It’s not fake. It’s just… not all there is.”

His thumb traced the corner of the journal absentmindedly.

“But when I’m with you…” He shook his head a little, searching for the words. “It’s like I don’t have to be on. You don’t expect a performance. You don’t expect anything, really. And somehow that makes me want to give you everything.”

Your heart thudded.

“I never realized how exhausting it could be — being everyone’s laugh. But with you, I’m just… Fred.” He looked up again. “And you don’t make me feel less for that.”

You stared at him, breath caught somewhere between your chest and throat.

He looked down, a faint flush creeping into his ears. “That was sincere, right?” he added, voice lighter but still earnest.

You didn’t answer right away.

Instead, you reached out and carefully ripped out the page. “I guess you get to keep it.”

His eyes widened slightly, flickering from your hand to your face. “Really?”

You just nodded.

Fred had carefully — very carefully — tucked the drawing between two pages of an old Quidditch magazine. It wasn’t exactly the best hiding place, but it was one of the few things George wouldn’t willingly touch. Fred’s relationship with printed reading material was… less than enthusiastic. Everyone knew that.

Which was exactly why George found it.

“I was looking for the Cannons article,” George explained innocently as he stood at Fred’s bed, waving the sketch around like a victory flag. “And what do I find instead? A bloody portrait.”

Fred whipped around from where he was tying his tie, heart dropping like a stone. “George—”

“It’s you,” George continued gleefully. “It’s you with that stupid soft smile you only make when she’s around—oh Merlin, is this what you do when you sneak off in the evenings?”

Fred lunged, but George danced out of reach, laughing too hard to run properly.

“It’s so dramatic,” George cackled. “Look at this—your hair even has shading. Shading, Fred. Are you posing when she draws you?”

“I swear on Mum’s life—give it back—”

“Oh, and she signed it,” George gasped, holding the corner up, inspecting your name. “Cute. Very romantic. I didn’t know you were someone’s muse.”

“George.”

Fred was red-faced now, a mix of rage and pure panic. His ears matched his jumper.

George grinned, holding the drawing just out of reach. “I’m keeping this.”

“You’re not.”

“I am. I’m framing it.”

“You are not framing it.”

“I’m going to show Mum. She loves romantic things—”

“I will hex your eyebrows off in your sleep.”

George paused dramatically, then handed the paper back, still grinning like a madman. “Alright, alright. But I want it stated clearly for the record: You are pathetically gone for her.”

Fred snatched the drawing, smoothing the edge with a bit too much care for someone pretending he didn’t care.

“I’m not ‘gone.’”

“Oh please. You read psychology, you went quiet in her presence, and now you’re hoarding pencil drawings of your brooding face like a Victorian widow.” George leaned against the bedpost. “Just snog her already.”

Fred muttered something unintelligible and shoved the drawing back into his trunk, this time between two very old, very dull spellbooks.

George watched him with amusement. “She likes you too. I hope you know that. I hope you’re not that dense.”

Fred stilled.

George gave him a shrug. “Just saying. She wouldn’t sketch you if she didn’t.”

Fred tried to act nonchalant, but the smile that crept across his face was unstoppable.

“Sod off,” he said.

George rolled his eyes. “You’re the worst romantic I’ve ever met.”

“And you’re a menace.”

“True. But you love me.”

Fred laughed, shoulders relaxing for the first time all morning. “Not when you touch my stuff.”

Once George was gone Fred shut the trunk, still smiling, the warmth of your drawing pressed somewhere under the lid. Safe, for now.

The night was calm. After a weekend at Hogsmeade, everyone was back to doing the work they had neglected now that it was Sunday. Which left you to enjoy the solitude of the corridors in peace.

You were perched over a particularly high windowsill, just out of sight for anyone who wasn’t looking where they were going.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. You took a break from your journal to see who your intruder was. Intruder here being a strong word, as you were technically in a public space.

To your surprise, you saw a head of red hair coming down the hallway. He was staring at something in his hand. A rectangular piece of paper.

He hadn’t noticed you yet, too lost in whatever he was holding.

It took you a moment to realize what it was.

Your sketch.

You recognized the careful fold of the paper, the telltale smudge on the corner. His thumb was pressed right there, grazing that mark like it was familiar. Like he’d done it more than once.

He stared at it the way people looked at stars when they thought no one was watching. Quiet. Reverent. A little bit in awe.

You almost didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

But your mouth was faster than your brain. Fred had that effect on you. As if you didn’t have to double think whatever it is you wanted to do.

“That looks familiar,” you said.

His head snapped up, trying to determine where the voice came from. He looked like a lost puppy for a second, trying to find a familiar face.

Once he saw you perched up there, a grin adorned his features. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“Oh. Hey,” he said, as he approached the ledge and placed his hands on the edge.

“You were staring at it.”

“Maybe.”

You readjusted your position, so that your legs were hanging over. You peered down at him. “Didn’t think you were the type to brood over artwork.”

“I don’t brood.”

“You were brooding.”

He didn’t answer for a moment. Then, with exaggerated calm, he unfolded the paper again and held it up beside him.

“I really like this,” he said.

“Why’s that?”

He looked at the drawing, then at you, then back at the drawing.

“Because you made me look like the mysterious one,” he said finally, flashing you a grin. “And let’s be honest, between the two of us, you’re clearly the one with dark secrets and poetic thoughts.”

You snorted. “Right. And you’re the brooding, misunderstood artist’s muse?”

Fred puffed out his chest dramatically. “Obviously. I’m very complex.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You once put a firecracker in a soup tureen because you were bored.”

“I was expressing the chaos of existence,” he said with a grin. “Or something along those lines.”

You laughed, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. “You’re insufferable.”

“Ah, but charming,” he countered, wagging the drawing at you. “Your words, not mine. Might I remind you.”

You rolled your eyes but your cheeks were warm.

He tapped the page thoughtfully. “You gave this to me like it was no big deal, and now I’ve been walking around like a twelve-year-old with a crush. I’ve folded and unfolded this thing so many times it’s practically a security blanket.”

“Ah, so you do have a crush on me?”

He leaned in, resting his chin on his hands and gazing up at you with mock intensity. “I thought that part was obvious.”

Your cheeks flared hotter. You looked away before he could grin any more about it.

You paused, then said slowly, “You’re the only person I’ve ever drawn who kept interrupting the silence by fiddling with some exploding cube.”

Fred grinned. “So you admit it. You were watching me.”

You kicked your foot lightly in his direction. “I was drawing you, idiot.”

“Same thing,” he said, far too pleased with himself.

There was a beat. Then he added, a bit more softly, “You didn’t have to give it to me, you know.”

“I wanted to,” you said simply. “Felt like you should have it.”

Fred blinked at you, the teasing softening just a little.

Then he leaned closer, voice mock-serious. “You know, now that I own fine art, I’m probably obligated to carry it everywhere and gaze dramatically into the distance like a tortured poet.”

You grinned. “It’s a sketch, Fred.”

“It’s a masterpiece. I’m going to frame it and hang it over my nonexistent fireplace and tell our grandkids about how you were obsessed with me, and couldn’t stop painting my portrait.”

You scoffed, but your smile was betraying you.

“Grandkids?” you asked dramatically, softly kicking him. “I don’t recall agreeing to that.”

“I do,” he said nonchalantly as he held on to your calves, to stop your restless legs that seemed intent on hurting him.

You raised a brow. “Seems like you’re skipping a few steps. Maybe start with a love letter? Or is this the part where you declare your undying devotion?”

“Nope,” he said, tucking the sketch carefully into his pocket. “This is the part where I flirt outrageously and make you fall in love with me slowly and against your will.”

You laughed, heart pounding just a little too hard. “That so?”

“Absolutely. Just warning you now. It’s going to be devastating.”

“I intend to make it as hard as possible for you, Weasley!”

With one last grin, he turned and walked backwards down the corridor, his voice echoing playfully:

“Hope you’ve got room in that journal, you’ll be sketching me again soon.”

You rolled your eyes.

But you didn’t stop smiling. Not even when he was out of sight.

[ghoulie-67-baby]

In too deep- Wizarding world.

Summary: It’s the end of a pretty rough session and you’re stuck in subspace, the boys decide enough is enough and pull you back.

Warnings: Sub!reader, Doms!Sirius, Remus and James, crude language, smut, degradation (minor), praise, thumb sucking, sub space, Crying, use of 'Daddy', cum play (if you squint).

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader.

Word count: 1,252.

"Good girl." Remmy swept my hair back from my face as I came down from my 4th high of the day, James' thrusting coming to a stop as he emptied his load inside me, making me whine at the feeling of all three loads of cum mixed and sliding out of me. "That's it Bunny, y'did so well for us." I glanced up at him with a small smile, lips parted as I panted. Another broken moan was forced from me as James pulled out of me, my body extremely sensitive from the three of them sharing me.

"Look Pads, she's clenching around air." James grinned as he sat between my legs, face level with my pussy. "The little cock slut." Sirius shifted across the bed to join him, chuckling at the sight as their cum began to slip out of me towards the sheets below us. "Poor dumb Bunny, all fucked out," I whined, bottom lip trembling as I clutched at Remus, pulling him down to kiss me. He was gentle with me as he kissed back, rubbing small circles onto my stomach as the two continued to stare, transfixed at the sight. I huffed out a sigh at how soft he was being and forced my lips against his a little harder to try and get him to do the same. It didn't work and he pulled away as I whined, desperately wanting to give them more.

"I love how she twitches when she's all cockdrunk and making no sense," Sirius all but growled out, thumb moving to push the cum back into me. I gasped, back arching as my eyes fluttered shut with a shattered moan. "Poor baby." He kissed my thigh gently before moving to the head of the bed and pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth as I stared at him with bleary eyes. "You're so out of it, spacing away, can see it in your eyes Poppet."

"Think that's enough for today Bunny," Remus commented, snapping James out of his trance as he pushed my legs together. "Let's get all clean," I whined in protest, letting my legs fall back open as my head lolled to one side to watch Sirius. His gaze was soft as he sighed, hands reaching out to take one of my own.

"C'mon Poppet, time to come back to us." He muttered against my cheek as he tried to coax me out of my headspace. I shook my head lazily, wanting to give them more. "Yes Bunny, enough for now."

"Don't wanna Daddy, Want more." I whimpered, "I can make y'feel good, m'gonna be good for my daddies." I snaked my hand to take hold of his semi-hard cock, running my hand up and down. I smiled in exhausted delight at the hiss he made from the sensitivity, biting back his moans. Tears filled my eyes as he pulled my hand away from him even though he was almost fully hard. He didn't want me. I turned to look at James who looked down at me sympathetically, shaking his head when I opened my mouth for him to use. The tears flooded over onto my cheeks so quickly and the boys looked heartbroken as I whimpered, trying to hold back a sob. I wasn't entirely sure why I was crying, what the feeling I had was or why they didn't seem to want me but I knew it was agony.

"Daddies don't want me anymore?" I cried, "Have I been a bad girl?" They scrambled to correct me, each blurting out that I'd been perfect for them.

"Bunny, of course, we still want you. We always want you, you've just had enough for today, you're a bit too fuzzy now." James cooed, thumb rubbing over my cheek, wiping tears away though more fell in their place. "You're always our good girl, we just need to take care of you now."

"It's not Daddy anymore either Bunny," Remus added, pulling me up the bed so he was lying against the headboard with my back against his chest. "It's Remmy, Jamesie and Siri 'member." He began to pepper soft kisses against my collarbone as Sirius disappeared to the bathroom making me whine loudly, tears springing up again.

"But Daddy can use my mouth and throat again, make him feel good." I nodded, holding my mouth open and sticking out my tongue.

"Daddy has had enough for today too, Do you need something to suck on?" I gazed up at Remmy and nodded quickly, mouth still open. Just then, Sirius returned from the bathroom with a damp cloth in his hand and a fresh pair of boxers on. "Okay Bunny, we'll clean you up and then I'll give you something." Although I was disappointed I couldn't have his cock now, I waited patiently. Wincing as James held my legs open for Sirius to clean my sore, used pussy. I cried at the oversensitivity as the cloth ran over my clit, wiping away all their cum and my own, James managing to keep my legs open though they twitched and fought against his grip.

Once he was done, I twisted my head up to look at Moony again, opening my mouth and trying to get out of his grip and slide down to get to his cock. I pouted, confused, when he didn't loosen up his grip but instead held his thumb to my lips and pressed into my mouth.

"There you go Bunny, suck on Remmy's thumb and come back to us." I looked at Jamsie and nodded, eyes feeling heavy as I started to suck at Remmy's thumb whilst his other hand rubbed my ribs gently. Siri and James worked together to slide me into a pair of underwear before pulling a blanket from another bed to drape over me. Though my head was still fuzzy, I was slowly beginning to come to, exhausted from the events.

"Hey Poppet, how you feeling?" Pads whispered, sitting by my thighs as his thumb rubbed over my skin.

"M'feeling a little better now," I mumbled, fighting to stay awake. "Jus' tired Siri." The boy in question smiled at me as I used his name, noticing I was drifting back, slowly.

"Atta girl Bunny, when you're a bit more back you need to have some water before you sleep okay?" Remmy spoke, chest rumbling under my chest which soothed me.

"Jamesie, can I have your jumper please?" I held back a shiver as he scrambled off the bed, rifling in his trunk to find his quidditch jumper before bringing it over, and helping me slip it on. "Thank you." I kissed his cheek gently before laying back down with a yawn. I hummed, rubbing my eyes with closed fists as exhaustion set in quicker than expected.

"Here Bun, let's drink first, don't want you t'get ill do we?" With half-open eyes, I pulled the straw into my mouth and sipped at the cold water slowly so I didn't upset my stomach before pulling away. After putting it down, the other two boys, came to join us on the bed, one on either side of Remus and me as I twisted in his grip to lay face down on his chest and get comfortable. As I drifted out of it, the three pressed a kiss to my head and wrapped the blanket around us before I dozed off entirely, cocooned in the scent of the three of them and a warm feeling in my chest.

[muxshwriting]

★ WIZARDING WORLD

<- main masterlist

THESEUS SCAMANDER

we always do

theseus and his wife may have very conflicting views on war, but they'll never go to bed angry and never leave the other in danger

REMUS LUPIN

falling for you

maybe practicing quidditch in the pouring rain while drunk wasn't the best idea. but when have the marauders been known for their sense

REGULUS BLACK

swimming

living two lives as you try to navigate through a war. you and regulus have to try to not get caught while breaking down the barriers of both sides

CEDRIC DIGGORY

our last summer

your last summer with the love of your life before it's all cruelly stripped away

GEORGE WEASLEY

first time

a surprise meeting in the library spawns a new nickname, baby

[moonlit-imagines]

warnings:

a/n:

not requested

You knocked upon the Dursleys’ door with three gentle, polite taps. They were easily irritable, you’ve gathered, so you tried to suck it up in order to get on their good side. “Yes, y/n?” Mrs. Dursley poked her head out of the doorway and saw you sweetly smiling on her doorstep.

“Is Harry home at the moment?” You asked her, seeing the dark haired boy peeking behind her to check who was there.

“He’s grounded, you won’t be seeing him any today, dear. Maybe another time.” She snipped at you and slammed the door.

“Hey, I’m not grounded! Why did you say that?!” You heard Harry arguing behind the door.

“Quiet, boy! You’re grounded for that back talk, now up to your room you go, I don’t want to hear a peep!” His aunt yelled back at him. You stood stunned on their doorstep, wanting to knock once more and give the woman a piece of your mind. But you saw the damage you’d just done and decided to head back to your own home.

Once you were back in your bedroom, you peeked out the window to see Harry in his own bedroom, which wasn’t always the case. He quickly noticed your gaze and waved, leaving you blushing of embarrassment. You held up a piece of paper you’d scribbled the word “sorry” on and saw the boy smile, grabbing his own paper. He wrote back “worth a try” and you both laughed a bit, completely muted by the window pane. One day you hoped to succeed in getting him out of that house for a day, but this would do for now.

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @the-did-i-ask // @azazel-nyx // @randomfandomimagine // @scarthefangirl // @locke-writes // @sweetjedi // @beth-gallagher22 // @bad4amficideas // @xoxobabydolls // @ruvaakke // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @nightmarefox15 // @plumes-de-nuit // @you-bloody-shank // @elenavampire21 // @pheonixfire777 //

[sammigrll]

seventy-six percent

description: your boyfriend hasn’t fucked you in weeks and you’re tired of it, your best friend fred helps you get laid!

paring: theodore nott x fem! reader fred weasley x reader platonic!

contains: smut! 18+, minors dni, mentions of alcohol, sex, p in v

w.c: 1.1k

|an: came up w this idea last night and i luv luv luv it! hope u guys do too.

“cmon, fred, please? it’s been weeks. i’d do it for you, you know?" you’d said to your best friend, fred weasley, during lunch. it has been weeks since your boyfriend last fucked you. you don’t know why or what’s gone wrong. but you were convinced it was some sick game he was playing. he wouldn’t encourage your sexual behaviors, nor initiate anything, and you were fed up.

although, now that you really think about it, it might’ve been your fault, considering the last pillow talk session you and theo had, you told him jokingly that you’d probably last longer than him without sex.

you lied.

you’re growing desperate. you tried to ease the ache in your lower stomach by attempting to please yourself, but it’s not the same; it’s not him. you can’t put up.

“you’re absolutely nuts if you think i’m going to purposefully make theodore nott jealous. do you want me dead? is that what this is?!” fred exclaimed with a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “you think you know a gal,” he tutted, shaking his head.

you’d pressed your lips into a thin line, reaching into your head to find something that would make fred fold. “i’ll do your homework for a week? two? brew the potions for yours and george’s pranks? "c'mon freddie, be reasonable here.” you’d said with a pout.

“how about covering the cost of my funeral?” he’d deadpanned with a slight smirk. ugh, you’d thought. i guess i’ll have to…

“fine! i’ll do yours and george’s homework for a month so you can work on products. and make sure theo doesn’t do anything rash.” you exclaimed, god, your social life is going to be over, but at least you’ll finally get some dick.

fred’s lips tugged into a wicked grin. "sounds absolutely perfect. see you tonight. pleasure doing business with you, by the way!” he yelled out to you, already walking away, to go grab george and tell him the great news.

you’d sighed, hands holding your head from faceplanting into the hardwood table. it’ll be worth it, you told yourself.

this might, hands down. be the best you’ve ever looked in your life. your low-rise jean mini skirt hugged your hips and thighs perfectly. black long sleeve fitted crop top outlining your breasts and showing just the right amount of stomach, and black knee-high boots covering your calves. you looked to die for.

you do have to admit that you are a little nervous, though. fred and theo are both very unpredictable people. you had just hoped that fred wouldn’t cross the line too much and that theo would do nothing more than drag you up to his dorm and fuck you. considering this is a slytherin party, your chances of this outcome were maybe seventy-six percent?, which is good enough for you!

after overthinking and shuffling through every possible outcome, you finally stepped out of your dorm to meet fred in the common room so you could make your way to the slytherin common room together.

fred took a bow, as if you were queen lizzie herself, and offered you a hand to lead you down the last two steps of the staircase.

“madam?” he’d said in a posh voice, causing you to let out a laugh and take his hand to walk down the last of the steps. as you reached the bottom, he dropped the act and let out a laugh.

“no, but really. you do look good. i’d say there’s a great probability you’re getting laid tonight, with my help especially.” he’d said playfully and nudged you as you both exited the common room together.

“a girl can hope!” you’d whispered, now sneaking around the hallways with him to reach the slytherin common room.

“this is ridiculous!” you whisper-yelled into fred’s ear over the loud music blaring over the common room. you both hadn’t seen theo once tonight, and you and fred have been all over each other all night. getting close, whispering in each other's ears, taking shots together, even dancing together—nothing. the party was now coming to a close, and you still haven’t seen theo.

“i know, you’d think he’d show his face by now, or kick my ass or something" fred responded with his hand placed on the small of your back to get you as close as possible to him, so he could hear you better, of course.

theo had seen everything. he leaned against the wall in front of you covered by dancing bodies. he was alone, smoking cigarette after cigarette, his hand practically crushing the cup full of alcohol he’d had since the party began. he had a sick feeling in his stomach; he couldn’t even try to take a sip of his alcohol; afraid it would give him the courage to stomp over there and beat fred weasley’s ass. he saw everything. the touches, whispers, and dancing. all of it, and now he stood over you, hand on your back, bodies pressed together, whispering into each other's ears over the loud music? that’s enough.

theo stomped his cigarette out, slammed his cup on a nearby table, and made his way over to you and fred.

“you’re coming with me,” he’d said under his breath, grabbing your arm and whisking you away from your friend. shocked, you’d said, and did nothing but let him take you upstairs. you hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell fred bye, but oh well. he’ll be just fine. he did his duty, and you’ll have to do yours too. at least it was a mission accomplished.

“fuck, theo.” you pleaded and moaned against his neck as he pounded into you at a rapid and unforgiving pace, the both of you slick with sweat as you'd been at it for hours.

“you like that? or would you rather have fred’s cock pounding into you like this? huh?” theo growled out as he pulled out, awaiting your response.

“no— no no theo baby please. just you, only you.” you’d babble, hating the feeling of emptiness he’d left you with.

theo plunged his cock back into your wet cunt, continuing his harsh pace and letting out a breathy laugh. “that’s what i thought.”

all you could manage to do was moan and tighten your grip on his shoulders as you both neared your climaxes.

you could feel your brain go absolutely numb as his pace never faltered. you’d managed to breathe out a "theo... im gonna—“

“cum, on my cock, baby.” theo said between thrusts, his own release about to reach a close as his hips began to stutter.

“theo!” you’d screamed out as the tightness in your stomach snapped. the yell of his name that escaped your lips, pushing him over the edge as well.

god, now i have double the homework for a month. was your first post-orgasm thought..worth it. was your last as you drifted off to sleep in theos arms.