#all i want is for professors to ask me what i had for breakfast or tell me they like my earrings or smth 😢 I ALWAYS THINK THEY’RE MY FRIENDS

[papercorgiworld]

I don't want you to be my girlfriend

Blaise, Mattheo, Enzo, Tom, Theodore and Draco

There’s a big misunderstanding concerning your future together. 

Warning: no warning, just a very fluffy fluff thingy

This was brought to you thanks to this request, but I must apologize I changed some details, but I guess the essential plot is stil there. If you spot an error that hurts your brain, let me know and save another reader. And as per usual, my darling readers happy readings! I love you all, big time!

“When we graduate things are going to change. I have big plans.” You hear your boyfriend’s voice and feel yourself get all giddy, convinced that you are part of these big plans, but suddenly you stop in your tracks. “I mean (y/n) isn’t going to be my girlfriend forever.” Next, there's silence. “Are you sure?” You hear Pansy ask and with a pounding heart you listen to your boyfriend’s answer. “Yeah. Never been so sure of anything in my life. She won’t be my girlfriend for long anymore. Things change.” 

Without making a single sound you turn down the stairs of the astronomy tower. Tears streaming down your face. You were so in love with him. All the two of you did lately was talk about your future together. When did he stop loving me? Did he ever love me at all?

The next morning you looked like crap. You looked like someone who had been crying all night, which is exactly what had happened. So you skipped breakfast and just went to class where you spent your time staring in front of you and avoiding your boyfriend’s gaze at all costs. He watched you from a few seats away. When he grew inpatient waiting for you to look at him he enchanted a little note and sent it to you, but to his horror you just looked at the folded paper laying on your desk without opening it, before returning to look at the professor. 

He truly doesn’t know how you managed to, but after class you just disappeared. He had immediately gotten up and walked towards you and yet you had somehow snuck past him through the other students. He picked up the unopened note he had sent you and felt his heart ache. First you didn’t show up at the astronomy tower last night, then you skipped breakfast and now you were obviously avoiding him. What did I do? I hate it when I don’t know what I did? Bad joke? Forgot about a date? Salazar, what if I did something so bad that she’s breaking up with me? 

He had searched every nook and cranny of the castle to find you, which was quite a lot of work, but to no avail. I don’t even know where she’s hiding? Have we somehow grown apart without me even noticing? I’m such a shit boyfriend, I’m gonna lose the love of my life.

Defeated, he walked back to the slytherin common room when one last possible hiding spot came to mind. How did I not check there earlier?

Blaise

There you sat curled up doodling in your journal, back resting against the whomping willow. “Really not the safest spot to be. The tree gets mad from time to time.” He startles you and for a moment you stare at him with wide eyes, before relaxing. As soon as you process that it’s Blaise you roll your eyes. “Oh, really? After seven years at this school I really had no clue.” Your sarcasm is almost like venom and makes Blaise’s smile disappear. In silence he joins you, sitting too close to your liking so you move an inch away and he lets his head fall back in annoyance with your childish behavior. “I have no idea what I did, but I’m sorry, I always am when I hurt you.” His voice is soft and his hand reaches for yours, keeping you from scribbling in your notebook. 

You shake your head in disbelief. How could he be sorry, when he was planning on breaking up with you. You feel tears welling up and grit your teeth in an attempt to hold them back. “When we talked about our garden together, which plants and trees we would prefer and that there needed to be a little bench… I thought you meant it. I thought you really wanted that with me.” At your words he moves a bit away from the tree to face you properly. “I do. I do want all of those things. You know that. We were just talking about our future together yesterday morning. What makes you think I wouldn’t want that with you?”

Your eyes are angry. How dare he lie like this. “I heard you last night at the astronomy tower. You want to break up with me. You had big plans and I wasn’t going to be your girlfriend anymore.” Blaise stares for a moment, before chuckling and looking away. “Unbelievable, you seriously had me worried for a moment.” All your anger subsides and confusion takes over, eyebrows knitting together. “You won’t be my girlfriend forever, (y/n), because I have other plans for you.” Blaise explains, but you still don’t catch on to what he’s hinting at. “Darling, I bought a ring.” Your eyes widen and your heart feels like it’s going to explode. “That’s what I was talking about. I showed it to everyone last night.” With shaky hands you put your notebook aside and move a little closer to your boyfriend. “An engagement ring?” Blaise nods and smiles as he adores your utterly confused face. “After we graduate, on a random date, when you don’t see it coming I’m gonna pop the question.”

Even though you were sitting in front of him he’s still surprised when you suddenly wrap your arms around his neck. “Spoiler alert, I'm gonna say yes.” You whisper all giddy and he responds by hugging you tighter than ever. Gods, I hope so, because I really love you.

Mattheo

Mattheo sighs, relieved that he’s finally found you. Sitting against the whomping willow with your knees pressed against your chest and headphones on, probably listening to the same four sad songs on repeat. He watches you from afar for a moment as he worries about what’s gotten you so upset and worse why you haven’t come to find him for consolidation yet. Even when you were angry with him you came to him to figure it out. You rarely closed yourself off for so long as you had done today and it frightened Mattheo. 

Quietly he walks over to you and as soon as you spot him you turn to look away from him, making Mattheo almost reach for his chest. He decides to lean against the tree next to you, giving you some space as you’re still sitting curled up on the ground. The silence between you two is excruciating. Soundless tears run down your cheeks as you realize that this might be the last moment between you two. As painful as the silence is, Mattheo wants to give you time to start talking, it’s only when he hears you sob that he loses his patience and immediately gets down on his knees next to you. He takes off your headphones and looks at you with soft eyes. “I beg you, please, talk to me.” His fingers brush your cheeks and you savor the moment of his touch, before speaking up.

“It’s cruel Matt, making someone believe in a future together, while you’re planning a break up. I mean who does that. Yesterday morning we were arguing about marriage or kids first and in the evening you’re telling everyone that you don’t want me to be your girlfriend.” A pathetic sob escapes you and Mattheo opens his mouth, but you cut in before he can say anything. “I still love you, you know. I still want that future with you. Did I scare you away or something?” Mattheo’s heart squeezes at your painful sobs. Scare me away? How can you think of something like that? “No, no, you could never scare me away.” Mattheo wants to hold you, but you softly push his hand away. “Then tell me, what did I do wrong? Why are we breaking up?” Mattheo stares at you in disbelief, not following at all. “We aren’t. We’re never-” 

“I heard you, Matt, last night at the astronomy tower. I heard you say that I wasn’t going to be your girlfriend for long.” Something changes in the way Mattheo looks at you, but you can’t quite capture it, he looks almost disappointed. “Wow. Definitely not how I planned it, but okay.” Mattheo says dryly, but also amused. There’s this sweet mischievous glimmer in his eyes that calms you, but also has you frowning. He searches in his pocket, obviously being enchanted, it takes him a while to find what he’s looking for and you stare at him in confusion as he makes a funny face. “Matt-” He shushes you and you study him carefully as he moves from sitting on both knees to resting on one knee, before pulling out a tiny box. 

“If it’s up to me, (y/n), you will no longer be my girlfriend, because I want you to marry me.” You quickly shake your head and sit up a bit straighter to check if you’re really seeing what you’re seeing. Slowly, his free hand reaches to open the flannel ring box. “So (y/n) (y/l/n), will you marry me?” Your mouth opens as you stare at the ring, before looking at Mattheo whose smile is filled with love. You nod, ignoring the elegant and shiny ring, you lunge towards him and he wraps his arms around you. He quickly closes the box to keep the ring safe, before kissing you passionately. When you break apart, your foreheads rest against each other. “The answer’s yes by the way.” You whisper with flustered eyes. Mattheo licks his lip, smirking at the beautiful fiance in his arms. “I assumed that much.” He said, eyes shining with happiness. “But, dear future wife, don’t you ever assume silly things again, like maybe me dumping you. Never going to happen, understand?” Sheepishly you chew your lip, embarrassed with your own dramatics. When you nod, his smile grows brighter and leans in for another passionate kiss. 

Enzo

As soon as Lorenzo spotted you, he came running towards the whomping willow, though carefully watching the tree so as not to get attacked by it. You were just laying on the ground staring up at the sky and the tree, but you knew Enzo was coming your way. You had been together for so long you could hear it was him just by his footsteps. You took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the weight on your chest, knowing that your relationship would all be over soon. With a happy smile Enzo’s face comes into your view as he stands next to you looking down at you. “Found you.” He quips rather proud of himself and you snort. Joking before breaking up that’s just rude. Did our relationship really mean nothing?

When Lorenzo notices your displeasure with his presence he kneels down next to you. “Everything alright?” He asks with a soft, worried voice as he scans your face for any hints. You chew your lip for a moment before sitting up, eyes wandering around, avoiding Enzo. “I really looked forward to it.” Enzo frowns and sits down next to you, his arm brushing yours. Before he can ask for an explanation, you continue. “Cooking together every evening. Going to bed together. Waking up and arguing in the bathroom, but making up at the breakfast table. You were going to make that boring adult everyday routine fun, you would make everyday worth it.” Lorenzo drops his head, looking down. She’s breaking up with. He heard you struggle to keep yourself from sobbing and looked back up.

He wasn’t just gonna let you break up with him. He grabbed both of your hands and pulled you towards him, now your teary eyes were forced to meet his. “Darling, whatever dumb thing I did, I love you too much to have done it on purpose, so please just talk to me.” You narrow your eyes at him, confused by what he was saying. You sniffle and he wraps an arm around your head pulling towards him, forcing you to rest on his shoulder for a moment. “Please, don’t break up with me.” Your boyfriend whispers, before placing a soft kiss on your temple. You pull away and look at him. “I don’t want to break up with you, you’re the one that’s done with our relationship.” Enzo’s eyes widen and his mouth drops a bit. “Wha- why? Why would you say something so ridiculous!” He sounds almost angry with you for suggesting something so outrageous. 

You frown and bite back. “Don’t play dumb, Berkshire! I heard you last night at the astronomy tower talking to all your friends and Pansy, who’s my friend by the way, about how I wasn’t going to be your girlfriend for long anymore. Hah!” You point at him, thinking you’ve cornered him, figured out all his lies, but he doesn’t look impressed at all. “Oh right, right… but tell me, darling, if I’m planning on breaking up with you then… uhm, why did I spend a ridiculous amount of money on an engagement ring?” With one swift move he presents you a small velvet ring box and judges you, before quickly tucking it back into his pocket. Your mouth just hangs agape as you watch him put the ring box away. “Miss I-have-it-all-figured-out, do you have any other crazy assumptions? Maybe you think I bought that for one of my other girlfriends-” You give him a soft push and he smiles at your flustered face.

“Break up with you? Have you lost it? Gods, I’m marrying an idiot.” Lorenzo laughs and pulls you onto his lap. You’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Enzo bought an engagement ring. “Marrying an idiot? Enz, I haven’t said yes.” You say, attempting to sound composed and he grins at you. “That’s because you haven’t seen the ring, yet.” You snake an arm around his neck. “So show me.” You brush your nose against his and he smirks, happy that you're eager to see the ring and say yes. Enzo steals a tender kiss from you before moving his lips to your ear. “I don’t think so.” You look at him with curious eyes and he explains himself. “I have this whole thing planned and it’s already bad enough that you know I’m going to propose. I don’t need you knowing about anything else I have in store for you.” Merlin, I love him. Desperately your lips crash into his, passionately kissing your future husband as he holds you tight.

Tom

He studies you from afar as you focus on your journal. He adores your elegant figure, small against the great whomping willow. He approaches you with a featherlight step and you don’t notice him until he speaks up with a serious tone. “You had me worried. Disappearing for a whole day.” Your heart jumps as his sudden presence startles you and you quickly close your journal. When you look up he notices your exhausted eyes and crouches down to your level. His fingers brushing your jawline before grabbing a hold of your chin as you try to turn away from him. With a firm grip he forces you to meet his eyes. “Have you been crying, dear?” Your eyes go dead at his question. “Don’t pretend to care. I know you’re breaking up with me.”

Your voice is cold and your words catch him off guard, dropping his hand and studying your face. “When we talked about traveling the world, I thought it was going to be you and me. Searching for the boundaries of magic, you and me… always.” His face goes cold as tears visually well up in your eyes. “I can’t believe you’re breaking up with me. I don’t understand. I thought we were happy.” Now you can no longer hold your tears back, instantly your hands cover your face and Tom grits his teeth at the sound of your sobbing. “Enough.” He says sternly, grabbing your hands and making you look at him. “I don’t know what’s gotten into your silly little head, but I’m not breaking up with you, not now, not ever!” 

He can spot a glimmer of hope in your eyes at his words and he sighs. “Quite to the contrary, actually. I’m planning on spending the rest of my life with you and I want to make it official.” You swallow and shake your head a little as you remember last night's words. “But- but I heard you talk yesterday evening… you said I wasn’t going to be your girlfriend forever.” Tom’s lips form a line and he cups your face, thumbs brushing over the stains of your tears. “You should know better than to eavesdrop. You missed out on a bit of context.” Your eyebrows knit together. “You’re not breaking up with me?” With a soft smile he shakes no. “I missed out on the context?” Tom nods and you feel yourself relax. “Okay.” You whisper and you lean towards Tom so he can embrace you. With your head pressed against his chest you wonder. “I don’t get it, what context?” Tom smiles to himself. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He pulls away a little so he can place a tender kiss on your soft lips. I can’t believe she almost found out about the proposal. If she had seen the ring last night the surprise would’ve been ruined. 

Theodore

You were trying to focus on the book in your hands, but you had to reread every sentence twice, because your mind kept going to Theodore’s words. Frustrated with your incapacity to read, you sigh and look around taking in your surroundings, it’s then that you spot Theo slowly walking in your direction. “Here it goes.” You mutter to yourself as you mentally prepare yourself for a painful break up. “Where have you been all day?” Theo asks, noticing you looking at him. You shrug, not in the mood for small talk. “Here.” You say dryly and Theodore’s tongue darts around in his mouth as he tries to figure out what’s going on. “Why did you ignore my note?” You look away from him. Can’t he just cut to the chase. 

Again you shrug, eyes still staring into the distance. Theodore raises his eyebrows, a little annoyed by your attitude. “Okay, princess. I’ll play.” He goes to sit opposite of you, giving you all his attention, but you snap your head towards him at his words. “You are unbelievable, Theodore Nott!” Your loud voice makes Theo clench his jaw. “Right back at ya, sweetie.” He’s annoyed, but he tries to stay calm, seeing how upset you are. “Don’t ‘sweetie’ me, Nott.” You snare. “I know you’re here to break up with me. I heard you talking at the astronomy tower last night. I know about your big plans that don’t involve a girlfriend. So you can scurry off now. I’ll be fine.” Theo opens his mouth before closing it again and chuckling softly. You frown. “This isn’t funny.” You say, clearly hurt by his lack of emotion. You reach for your book to hit it against his arm, but your boyfriend ceases the opportunity to grab your wrist and pull you closer to him, much to your dislike. 

“It’s funny, trust me.” He whispers, chuckling as he closes the space between you two. “I’m not gonna scurry off, princess, and I’m not breaking up with your dumb ass.” You try to pull your wrist free. “I heard you say-” Theo snakes an arm around your waist to keep you close, before interrupting you. “You heard what exactly?” You fall silent and look up at him with watery eyes. “Because I’m not breaking up with you, I love you a little too much and I’ve invested a bit too much money in an engagement ring. So you and I, we’re not breaking up any time soon.” The sadness in your eyes is replaced by surprise. “Engagement ring?” You whisper barely audible and Theo nods softly, eyes focused on yours. “So did you maybe hear me say something like : she’s not going to be my girlfriend for long?” He leans closer to you, eyes moving between your lips and your eyes. “Because you’re not going to be my girlfriend for long, since you’ll be my fiance soon and then-” Your lips crash on his and his hand moves to your head as he kisses you back passionately. “I’m an idiot.” You whisper between kisses, only making him kiss you harder. “Yeah, you are. You’re lucky you’re cute.” You frown and he chuckles. “I love you.” 

Draco

With closed eyes you enjoy the sounds of nature around you. “Hey!” You recognize your boyfriend’s voice and turn to see him walk up to you with his usual flair, though carefully watching the whomping willow afraid of what it might do. You turn away from him, not ready to face him after hearing him talk about breaking up with you last night. “What’s got you hiding out here?” He watches you with crossed arms and you chew your lip, fingers playing with the grass by your side. You were rarely this distance and he gets more worried. He decides to sit down next to you. “If something’s wrong you can tell me.” You’re surprised by the softness of his voice and turn to him. His heart breaks a little when he notices your puffy eyes, but he stays quiet, waiting for you to tell him what’s going on.

“I feel stupid, Draco.” You confess and he frowns at you, before you continue. “I- I just thought that when we lay in bed discussing the interior of our mansion that- I guess I believed that you really wanted that. You really had me believing you wanted that future with me.” Your boyfriend’s face goes paler than it usually is, but you don’t notice the horror in his eyes. “I respect your choice and I won’t make any drama, but I want you to know that I really wanted that… a future for just the two of us.” With those words you get up, feeling tears well up. “What?” Draco almost yells as he instantly gets up after you. “You can’t break up with me.” He grabs your hand and you look at him, confused at his words. “I’m not breaking up with you, you are breaking up with me.” Your explanation almost hurts Draco’s brain as he tries to make sense of what you’re saying. “No. No. Why would I break up with you?”

You press your lips into a line as you now notice how utterly confused he is. Your eyes rest on his hand holding onto yours, he didn’t want you to go anywhere. You look up at him, frowning. “But I heard you… last night… you said that- that I wasn’t going to be your girlfriend forever. Pansy asked if you were sure and you said yes. I clearly heard you say that.” Draco seems to relax at your words and a soft smile creeps up his lips. “Oh, love.” He lets go of your hand, before taking a step closer so there’s only an inch between you two and slings his arms around you, hugging you as he softly chuckles. “I’m not breaking up with you.” The calmness in his voice convinces you of his sincerity and you feel all the pain and tension leave your heart, making you blink away soft tears of joy.

You enjoy his warmth and hug him back, but after a moment your mind goes back to last night. “But then, what were you talking about?” You move away from him as you feel a bit of doubt make its way back to your heart. Draco tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and adores you with the sweetest smile on his lips. “You won’t be my girlfriend for long because I intend on marrying you.” Your eyes widen and you feel the purest form of happiness rush through you. “Marry me?” You whisper in surprise, not really believing what you had just heard. “Yes and I’m sure of it.” An intense blush forms on your cheeks and your eyes get sparkly as a soft laugh of joy leaves your lips. “I love you, Draco Malfoy.” He kisses tenderly, before locking his eyes with your and wiggling his eyebrows. “I love you too, future Mrs Malfoy.” You laugh and bite your lip. “I like that.” Draco pulls you closer, happy to hear your approval. You break a passionate kiss when your mind starts wondering again. “When are you asking?” You ask with a cheeky smile and Draco scoffs at your question. “I’m not telling. It’s already bad enough you know that I’m gonna ask.” 

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire imagine #blaise zabini #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini fluff #blaise zabini x you #theo nott x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #tom riddle #tom ii riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #papercorgiworldwritings

[eunoiaflow3r]

silent treatment - ron weasley x reader

requests open

taglist

warning(s): language, teasing, smut mentions

word count: 1.5k

request(ed): Can you please do a fic where ron gets really sad because hermione dared the reader to ignore ron for a whole day ?

summary: okay so pretty much the request except a little more scandalous 👀 characters are like 17+ (no war)

—————————————————————

Girls night meant pajamas and tonssss of snacks that Fred and George curated. This was a bimonthly tradition that you and the girls came up with to relieve stress and keep some spontaneity in your lives.

You, Hermione, Luna, and Ginny all sat on the ground criss-crossed apple sauce gossiping and chewing on taffy. Then, Ginny suggested truth or dare. You were actually a fan of this game, as you were pretty much up to do anything and you were also inherently honest.

You went a few rounds, confessed a few kisses until Hermione had a dare for you that had her giggling into her hands. “I dare you,” she giggles some more, “to ignore Ronald for an entire day - no exceptions.” You weren’t sure how to react, but you weren’t going to back down either.

“Okay.” you smiled. You could do this. Wouldn’t be that hard, all you have to is avoid him tomorrow and it would be alright.

However, you and Ron have been dating for a few months now and you knew he wasn’t the type to take this lightly. His feelings would definitely be hurt and you hate the thought of hurting him.

The next day you saw Ron at breakfast and usually you would sit next to him, but to make it easier on yourself you sat in between Harry and Hermione with Ron on the other side of Harry. He had said good morning but you pretended you didn’t hear him by stuffing your face and talking to Hermione. Harry didn’t notice a thing but Hermione knew what you were doing.

After breakfast Ron came up to you and put his arm across your shoulders. He kissed your cheek and asked how you slept the night before. It killed you not to hug him back or say anything but you just stared at the ground.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

Still, you stared at the ground and clutched your books tighter to your chest. His voice made you swoon and you wanted to talk to him but you saw Hermione from the corner of your eye grinning and shaking her head.

You walked on and in to class without even looking at Ron again. Luckily, you wouldn’t see him again until Herbology which wasn’t until later in the day.

———

“She wouldn’t even look at me Harry I don’t know what I’ve done.”

Harry was busy mixing his potion while Ron ranted to him about your behavior this morning. He remembered talking to you at breakfast but he didn’t notice that you were specifically not speaking to Ron.

“She’s probably just tired mate you probably didn’t do anything. Maybe she needs space?”

“Space!?” he almost shouted but looked around the room and lowered his voice. “She had plenty of space this morning when she was chatting Hermione’s ear off.”

For the next 10 minutes Harry listened to Ron go over all the reasons (however ridiculous) that you might not be talking to him. Then it hit him…

“Ron, where was Y/N last night?”

“Uhm, with the girls. Their little sleepovers ya’know that they insist on doing.”

“Right….so….what if her behavior is related to that? Like a dare or something?”

Ron thought about it and it made sense. But what was he supposed to do about it? A dare is a dare…unless he made it impossible for you to fulfill it…

———

The day had gone by pretty smoothly - you ate lunch outside and now it was your last class. Except it was Herbology and Ron would be there. You used Luna mostly to avoid him but you could feel his stare across the way. You were outside today and distracted yourself with planting some flowers that the Professor had asked you to.

Sooner or later Ron came over - no gloves in hand or any indication that he came to help.

“Hey babe.” he says.

You kept digging and avoided eye contact.

“I missed you last night,” he begins. He had a teasing tone and you wondered where he was going with this.. “I was in bed, alone, thinking of that time we went to the lake? Do you remember?”

Oh you remembered.

It was night time, a few months ago during the summer and Ron wanted to sneak out and go skinny dipping. You were hesitant at first but Ron was convincing. Once you got in the water it wasn’t actually that bad and pretty warm…Ron had grabbed you by the waist and began kissing you and you forgot why you were so worried in the first place.

You snapped back to reality and tried to hide your warmed cheeks.

“One of our best times, don’t you think? Could barely keep you quiet that night…”

You stood up and turned so that your back was completely facing him. There was no way you could face him and not speak now.

His hand found your hip and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I was all alone thinking about you…missing you…wanting to feel you…and now you won’t even talk to me. Not a look, or a gesture…wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

You could feel him smile against your skin and kissed your cheek before walking away back towards the school, leaving you alone with your now dirty thoughts. He was making this so hard for you. You wanted to talk to him, wanted to explain..but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t lose the game.

———

A few hours later you decided the library would be the best place for you to be. Ron was hardly ever there and you could do some homework while killing the hours until when you could talk to Ron again. You got through a few assignments until you heard whispers a few rows away.

——-

“I tried talking to her but I must’ve really fudged up this time Harry.”

Ron had convinced Harry to come to the library with him so he could mess with you. He and Harry curated a fake conversation so that you would feel bad about your dare and hopefully cave in. Ron’s only regret was that he couldn’t see your face in this moment.

“Try talking to her again, I’m sure what you did couldn’t have been that bad.”

“What if she never speaks to me again Harry? What will I do?”

———

Your heart hurt. You hated hearing Ron sounding so upset. Was this prank really worth it if your boyfriend ends up pained because of it? When you agreed to it it really didn’t seem that bad or dramatic…but now that you’re hours into it you don’t know if you can continue.

Whatever. It’ll be fine, you just have to finish your homework…

10 minutes later you see your boyfriend come over and sit next to you.

“Baby, what’re you doing?”

You continue to do your homework and not look at him. He scoots his chair closer to yours and puts his hand on your thigh and slowly moves it up. Hermione said you couldn’t speak to him…she didn’t say you had to stop him from speaking to you…

He moves your hair away from your neck and kisses you behind your ear and moves down your neck til he gets to your collarbone. You resist the urge to moan and say anything to him. You wanted to talk to your boyfriend and you wanted to tell him he did nothing wrong…and now he was leaving a hickey on your neck.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Hermione walk into the library and you gently pushed Ron off and covered your neck so she wouldn’t think you guys were talking. She came over and grinned at the way Ron was pouting right now.

“How’s it going you two? Anything new?”

“New as in my girlfriend won’t speak to me?” Ron asks. “Yeah that’s pretty new.”

“Hermione do you have an extra quill?” You ask.

“Of course I do.”

Luna and Harry make their way over as Hermione hands you the quill.

“Oh is the dare over then?” Luna asks.

Your eyes widened. Luna must’ve assumed since the three of you were together that we must have talked it out….

“Luna!” Hermione whisper shouts.

“Oops….”

You look at Ron and you could feel your face heat up. What would his reaction be? Would he be mad? Sad? Disappointed?

He didn’t say anything. All he did was look at Harry and the both of them started laughing. This made you look at Hermione confused.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“We knew it was a dare, love. How stupid do you think we are?” Ron laughs hugging you close. “I’ll admit it stung at first but then I put the pieces together.”

“After I helped.” Harry rolled his eyes.

You turn to whisper in Ron’s ear. “So all that teasing today?”

“On purpose.” He grinned. “What you thought I wouldn’t get you back? You know who my brothers are…”

————————————————————————————

The End!! Lollll. Hope you enjoyed🤍

#harry potter x reader #ron weasley x reader #ron wealsey x y/n #ron weasley #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley smut #weasley #harry potter #draco malfoy x reader #fred wealsey x reader

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 10)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 2960

A/N: A lovely human asked me today if this fic is over and I thought damn I got to update quick before I lose all my readers. Hope 2024 is treating you all well, here's to the first post of the year!

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You opened your eyes scanning the room you're in, first you saw the curtains shut. Clothes neatly pilled on the side, a messy stack of books and parchment. Then you turned around and saw the back of Remus's head as he slept peacefully. Thoughts of guilt, lust and memories flooded your head. You began to think whether he regrets last night, was it just a drunk mistake, what do you say to him when he wakes up. You felt him move and turn towards you, on his face a gentle smile. "Morning dear, how'd you sleep?" He asked and kissed your forehead.

"Really well, you?" He scooped you closer with his arms to his chest.

"Let's ignore the conversation we have to have now and just savour this moment." He whispered while cuddling close to you.

"I like that idea." You replied breathing in his smell. Your heart felt full and you felt so comfortable like this was the place you were waiting to be your whole life, and he didn't seem to regret it but rather welcome it.

"Now dear would you like some coffee? Breakfast?" He asked softly not letting you go.

"What a gentleman." You joked in return.

"I try my best." He said with a wink before kissing the top of your head and standing up, he put on a T-shirt and his trousers from last night. "I'll start making the coffee, rest as long as you want."

You lay there in naked confusion and bliss, you were happy but you were confused. You had no idea how you will face him in class after waking up in his bed. You got out of bed putting on yesterdays clothes and grabbing one of Remus's sweaters for warmth before making your way down to the kitchen. The room smelt of coffee, Remus looked younger for a moment with messy hair and wearing no socks on the cold floor as he made coffee. He turned around with a smile. "Good morning, nice jumper." He said with a wink. He winked a lot you noted, maybe he was just as nervous as you right now. "Do you like it with milk or black?" He asked.

"Splash of milk please, no sugar." You confirmed and he followed your instructions and handed it to you. "Perfect thank you."

"Care to join me on the roof for a smoke and coffee? Then we can think of breakfast plans." He said walking towards the stair case and you followed. You sat down side by side on two chairs, it was cold but you didn't mind. "You know this has always been my guilty pleasure, coffee and a cig the morning after, I thought it made me cool." He admitted looking out onto London.

"It makes you look cold, I'm not sure if cool is the right word." You said and he laughed lightly to response, shaking his head.

"It used to calm my nerves because I wasn't sure what to do with a girl in the morning after, how guys are meant to act, so I figured out to start my mornings with a smoke and conversation, not that this is a common occurrence."

"What you don't sleep with your students often?" you joked to ease your discomfort about this whole situation.

"I don't sleep with anyone often, especially students."

"Why?"

"Because they're my students and I have somewhat of a professional-" You interrupted him by saying "No I mean why don't you sleep with people often."

"Y/N you know what I am."

"So?"

"So, being around me, close to me is not only dangerous but also a burden to a persons life. Therefore I've found it's better to focus on solitude and not burden anyone else who I may possibly care for. Y/N I am not a man I am-" You once again cut in to stop Remus Lupin from his usual self-loathing pit. "I'm hungry."

He quickly checked his watch "We could go to a bakery about 5 minutes away they should be open, we can grab some pastries if you'd like."

"What time is it?" You asked in fear.

"Half past nine, why do you need to be somewhere?" He asked with a slight painful tang behind his voice.

"The Weasleys, I was meant to be staying there. I need to go before they all wake up." You said leaving your coffee and heading down to Remus's bedroom, Remus followed you down.

"I'm sure you'll be okay, just tell them you fell asleep on the sofa." He tried to calm you as you put on your jacket and gathered your belongings.

"No, I'll never hear the end of this. Molly will kill me." You said in panic.

"Y/N you're an adult they'll understand, just stay finish your coffee, I can write to Molly that you are here." He said placing a hand on your shoulder to calm you.

"I'm sorry Remus I don't want to run like this but I have to, I don't want to try and explain why I'm here in the morning. Happy new year." You simply said to him as his face dropped into a frown.

"Happy New Year." He said quietly and you apparated to the Weasleys house. You didn't know that you left Remus with a feeling of enormous guilt, he felt like he used the opportunity of you drunk to sleep with you and now you regretted it. He was reminded of your age by the way you rushed home, you may be eighteen but you still sometimes behaved like someone's daughter and that made Remus feel uneasy about perusing you, especially when you have to rush home the morning after. Rush home to a friend of his. The guilt ate him alive as he cleaned the coffee that you didn't finished and put out your half-smoked cigarette. In that moment he made a decision, he messed up, he got close to you and kissed you because he couldn't control himself and based on how you ran out the house you obviously regretted everything.

You on the other hand felt guilty for leaving, Remus treated you nicer than anyone else you've ever slept with, he made you coffee, he cared, it filled your heart with warmth, you knew you'll have to apologise for how you left. You slowly walked through the house up to the spare room you were staying in when you bumped into Percy who was going to the bathroom. He gave you a quick look up and down in a judgmental way and didn't even say hi, then as you passed the twins' room they opened the door with big grins. "Nice jumper." They both said at once. You looked down and saw you left in Remus's jumper.

"Shit." You took it off in that very moment in panic. "Don't tell anyone." You warned them.

"Our lips are sealed." They said in unison. "Although we will high five him next time we see him." Fred shrugged.

"Don't you dare Weasley." You warned.

"So how was sleeping with our dear professor?" George asked.

"Was it everything you dreamed of?" Fred added.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Was it at least good?" Fred pushed.

"The best I've ever had. And he made me coffee in the morning and hugged me and kissed me." You felt like you were melting just thinking about it.

"The best?" Fred repeated.

"Who knew prof would be so good." George added.

"Let's not talk about it, I actually have to sit in his class after this." You felt a bit sick at the idea, that was the end of that conversation. You quickly went to take a shower and change. After that you wrote a letter to Remus apologising about leaving so soon and thanking him for the coffee. He didn't reply. You sent him another three letters over the next few days making sure he's okay however he didn't reply. So you got the message, and he did regret it, he was just being nice to you in the morning because he was a good person. You were nervous to go back to Hogwarts but you decided you won't let New Years stop you. You came back a week before term, and you thought it may be good to bump into Remus before term starts to talk. You went to the bridge but he didn't, you knocked on his office but no one answered, you even tried to find him using the map but it was like he was always waking away from you.

You finally saw him on the first day of term, he was sitting eating breakfast in the great hall with all the teachers. You received and owl and it was from him but he didn't look up at you at all.  The letter read:

"Welcome back to the new term miss L/N.

As previously agreed our tutoring continues to prepare you for you exams.

- Professor R.J.Lupin"

You looked up at him but he didn't look at you.

In his lesson that day you sat nervously in your seat, you were sitting next to Sebastian as you and Percy weren't on talking terms after New Years. "Are you okay?" Sebastian whispered watching you move around in your seat nervously waiting for Lupin to arrive to the classroom.

"Just nervous about exams." You explained to him, he put a hand on your leg to steady it. "It's okay you'll do great, I've got some calming fraught if you want it though." He said and you nodded. He slipped  you the potion and you drank it, you didn't realise that around the time Sebastian put his hand on your leg Remus was walking in the classroom and watching the whole interaction. "Better?" Sebastian asked and you nodded in response. "Thank you." You said and he gave you a smile before moving his hand from your leg as you had stopped shaking from stress. Remus cleared his throat as he stood at the front of the classroom. "Welcome back I hope you've all had a good new year," Remus said, looking at you intensely during the last three words. You instantly felt hot however because of the position you didn't feel worried instead slightly turned on as you looked back at him, after a moment of eye contact he ripped his eyes away.

"Now I'm sure you're all nervous, but I will get you as prepared for your exams as possible all I ask is for you to listen and pay attention and that way I can help you." He continued, his eyes kept catching yours as if he couldn't look away and you were now enjoying the attention as all stress had left your body. However the closer to the end of the lesson it got the more the potion started to wear off and you could no longer look Lupin in the eye, he noticed the change in you and was very confused, he simply couldn't read you, he knew you took a potion however he wasn't sure what you took, he suspected it was calming draught but he had to ask you in your tutoring session if you show up. You considered skipping it but you knew you had to speak to Remus sooner or later and you didn't want to fail your exams because of him.

You lightly knocked on his office door filled with a bit of anxiety, he was sitting marking papers when you came in and he smiled gently at you but you could see he was on edge just like you. "Good afternoon Miss L/N. I hope you had a good Christmas." He greeted you and it filled you with anger that he was just pretending nothing happened.

"Can we talk?" You asked quietly sitting down on a chair near the front.

"Is it about your studies?"

"Obviously not." You snarked and he sighed pulling up a chair opposite you.

"We shouldn't, it's my responsibility to prepare you for your exams and" he began before you interrupted with a simple. "Remus." He loosened his tie and sighed.

"I'm really sorry Y/N. I'm really sorry for what I did, I should've been the responsible adult, I'm your teacher for fuck sake." He began and he looked visibly upset.

"Do you regret it?" You asked gently.

"Obviously, I shouldn't have put you in that situation. I pushed myself onto you, I knew my feelings for you I shouldn't have spoken to you at all if I was drinking."

"But I wanted to kiss you."

"Y/N I'm your teacher." He said as a matter of fact.

"So I don't care do you? Answer honestly."

"No." He shook his head and swallowed hard.

"Would you want to kiss me again?" He did say anything he just looked at your lips. "Answer honestly Remus." You added and he shook his head.

"Then do it." His eyes didn't leave your lips for a moment and then he made eye contact with you and he simply said "I can't."

"Why?" You asked him pleading.

"Because I am falling incredibly hard for you, and all I'm going to do is hurt you. Because I am your teacher. Because I can't offer you anything much more than a tea and a great music taste and an awful lot of knowledge on books."

"I don't care, you made me feel special, you make me feel loved."  You continued to beg.

"Don't lie to me I saw how you ran out the house." He said with a angry and annoyed tone.

"I wrote to you three time to apologies, and you ignored every single letter." You said feeling like you're about to cry.

"You did?" His complexion changed suddenly.

"Yes. But I got the message that you rather ignore all this happened."

"Y/N, I wanted to make you coffee, take care of you and then talk to you like an adult about what this means for our lives here, but you ran out and the only letter I received was this from Percy." He said pulling out a letter that was crumbled up in his pocket, the address was Hogwarts, of course, all your letters went to the cottage but he didn't go there he came straight to the castle it all clicked.

"Why did Percy write to you?" You asked softly and he just handed you the letter to read.

"Dear professor Lupin,

As head boy I urge to remind you that you are our professor within and outside school grounds. And I believe you don't need to be reminded of school rules, especially for a man with your condition losing this job may be disastrous.

Happy new year, P. Weasley Head boy of Gryffindor"

"That prick." You said quietly and looked up at Remus. "I promise I didn't tell him anything."

"How would he know?" Remus asked he looked like you betrayed him.

"Your jumper," you began and Remus have you a puzzled look. "I came home in it the morning after and Percy saw me, he gave me a look of hate, we haven't talked since." You answered honestly. "Remus I'm sorry about this, can you ignore it and can we have this conversation based on our own opinions." You said and Remus sighed.

"No matter what I am your teacher and we've crossed a line."

"How do you expect me to focus in your lessons after what you've done to me professor?"

"Fuck you calling me professor like it doesn't turn you on." He said looking away and taking a deep shaky breath. "Can I kiss you one last time dear?" He asked and you nodded. And he leaned over the desk to kiss you slowly, the kiss was desperate and slow, as if he was savouring the moment, he put a hand on your cheek and tucked your hair behind your ear just like he did that first morning.

"Don't make it the last." You said as soon as he pulled away.

"Dear, as soon as you realise I'm just a broke man who's been cursed since childhood the sooner you'll realise you don't want me, so many men will be able to offer you the world, I won't."

"I hate you, I hate that you won't even give yourself a chance to be happy." You said feeling like you're about to cry.

"Y/N I'm trying to protect you." He pleaded.

"Or maybe you're just trying to protect yourself from feeling any good emotion in your life?" You said standing up. "Maybe you don't realise you're hurting me by not even trying, by leading me on."

"I'm sorry Y/N, I truly don't know what I'm doing, I wish I was, let's leave this conversation for another day let's start working on revision."

"Remus how am I meant to sit here and listen to you teach me while all I can think about is wether you like me just for sex, wether it's because you get turned on by fucking your student, wether you're just lonely and I'm convenient or wether an ounce of you actually cares about me."

"Y/N, if you want to have this conversation with me you need to act your age not frantically shout your thoughts at me like a school girl." He said harshly his mood becoming a lot more authoritarian.

"I am a school girl! I hate you Remus Lupin, I hate how you treat me, I hate you for making me feel like I mattered for you to just change your mind when it's convenient. I hate Percy for that letter. But I really hate you." You said pushing the tears away from your eyes.

"I'm not surprised, I hate me too." He said looking down at the desk and then he went silent.

"No Remus. I didn't mean-" You began realising your emotions got the better of you, truly you were scared about how much you liked him, how dependent you were becoming on him, how life wasn't the same without him.

"You've said enough. Goodbye." Remus said turning around and walking upstairs to his office without a single turn back to face you. And that was the last time you saw Remus Lupin that week, the next lesson you had with Lupin was taken over by Snape, and even your tutoring was now with McGonagall. Lupin returned on Friday evening, you saw him in the great hall during dinner, that's when you received and owl from him which was rare during dinner...

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#remus lupin x reader #student x teacher #teacher! Remus Lupin #professor lupin x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #remus lupin #the maruaders #harry potter #remus love you #secret smokes #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #the marauders #sirius orion black

[moonstruckme]

helloooo, i have a request if its possible♡

since we got figure skater! Sirius..... Do you think we could get hockey player! James x figure skater! reader? Maybe they go to the same place but the place where they practice its kinda shitty so its literally kinda like an across the hallway situation where the hockey practice happens on one ice rink and when you leave you can walk thru the ice rink of the figure skaters that its on another section of the place IDK I'M NOT AN ARCHITECT SORRY

BUT THE POINT ITS, that one day James leaves practice later than usual and he's walking to get out but he heards his favorite song playing and he goes to see whats up because its his favorite song ever! and goes to the other ice rink and sees the reader practicing and inmediatly he has the biggest crush ever and its almost dreaming about a house and three kids with that cute girl

idk i think i explained myself like sht but hope you like the idea! cause i think it would be soo cute

Hi lovely, you explained yourself perfectly! Thanks for being so patient with me, I hope this is alright <3

hockey player!James x figure skater!reader ♡ 718 words

James’ entire body is pleasantly sore, and he’s very much looking forward to going home to a nice, hot shower. 

“Do you and Moony want to go get breakfast tomorrow morning?” he asks Sirius as they leave the locker room. The two of them had taken longer than usual changing out of their gear, Sirius filling him in on the absolute hell week Remus had at his new job. To hear Sirius talk about it, all the other professors are simply jealous of Remus. James is sure that’s partly true, but he’d bet they need less reason than that. Somehow, James had thought leaving school would mean emerging into a more mature world, but adults seem just as petty as teenagers. Maybe pancakes and a good, uplifting chat would do something to take the sting out of Remus’ first week and help prepare him for the next. 

Sirius cuts James a sideways look, gray eyes narrowed. “Breakfast at what time?” 

“I was thinking six, six thirty.” Sirius scoffs, and James grins. “Only joking. How’s eleven?” 

“Still too early,” Sirius grumbles, “but we’ll go.” 

James bobs his head, pleased to have a course of action for helping his friend. “Ask Moons where he feels like going, and just…” He hears a faint, familiar melody. “...just let me know.” 

“Sounds good.” Sirius pushes open the door, but James has stopped. He’s looking back towards the rink, intrigued. “Coming?” 

James waves him off. “In a bit. See you tomorrow.” 

Sirius makes an amused sound, not unused to James’ diversions, and goes. 

James follows the sound of his favorite song, unabashed about bopping his head to the beat as he approaches the rink. He knows figure skaters sometimes use the rink after his hockey practice has wrapped up, and he absolutely has to see who’s choreographed a routine to this. He comes to a stop near the edge of the bleachers, and watches through the tempered glass as one lone skater launches into a turn. 

This wouldn’t be the track James would have thought of for a figure skating routine, but frankly, you’re doing it justice. Your movements are springy and nimble as you glance across the ice, one complicated-looking move to the next to the next. It seems like both skates are never touching the ground for more than half a second. There’s a lot to be said, probably, about your skill, your technique, but James is a philistine. All he can think about is how pretty you look. 

You’re gorgeous. Stunning. Graceful in your movements and seraphim in your countenance. A wisp of hair has freed itself from the confines of the rest and whips about your face, but you don’t seem to notice it, your gaze steady and lips just slightly pursed in concentration. 

James would never tell his friends because they’d mock him to hell and back, but he does believe in love at first sight. Only under particular circumstances, though. The sight has to be good enough—meaning, he has to see some aspect of who that person is behind a pretty face. You certainly do have a pretty face, and you’re dancing to his favorite song, and James doesn’t understand how he could ever be expected to not be totally enamored with you after this one spectacular look. He worries that if you glance over, you’ll see him with giant cartoon hearts boinging out of his eyes on springs. 

The song ends, and you spin to a stop. James’ breathing stops, too, as your gaze lands on a point not ten feet to his right. He wonders if he’s being creepy. It’s not like this is a private rink, and James wouldn’t be weirded out if he spotted someone watching him running drills or something (actually, if it were you he’d be over the moon about it), but he’s been told not everyone feels like he does about that stuff. And though he hardly thinks of himself as intimidating, James is also a big guy. He wants to woo you, not spook you.

You skate to the edge of the rink to restart your music, and James slips out. He hears it blaring softly behind him, and he probably looks like a total idiot when he grins and dances out the front door. An idiot in love.

#james potter #hockey player!james #james potter x reader #figure skater!reader #hockey player!james x figure skater!reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x self insert #james potter au #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #marauders #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[jamespottersdaisy]

Red.

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

"I'd rather not see you at all."

"You'd miss me."

based on a request.

warnings: banter, probably fluff, my writing

8.1k

author's note: i dont know how i feel about this but enjoy. english is not my first language so beware <3

You stood on your feet, staring dead into the brown eyes before you. You weren't even aware of your frown, but you were sure you didn't look happy. His mocking eyes were eliciting you, sending waves of rage down your chest.

"How about you two sit together?" James asked, smiling with his eyes.

You reminded yourself that your anger wasn't aimed at James but rather at his tall and vexatious friend. Thus, instead of snapping at him, you sent him a mere warning glare.

"Or you can just fight. That'll work," James shrugged and turned around.

Your eyes averted back to Remus, who had slouched behind your desk–the same desk you had been sitting behind for years.

"That is my seat, Lupin."

He didn't budge at all, keeping on staring at you.

"I didn't see your name on it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. This boy was going to be the end of you.

"Remus," you said, "I've sat there last year and the year before that, please go find yourself another desk."

"It's a new school year, though, is it not? Make a change."

He must be testing your patience, which was at its limit. The lesson was about to start and yet you were still on your feet.

You blamed Remus for that.

The desk he had been resting behind was yours. You didn't need to write your name on it, everyone knew it was yours. For six years of Transfiguration, you had been sitting there, listening or sometimes disturbing the class with James and Sirius. It had a nice view of the board and could hide you well if needed.

Thus, you had always sat behind Pads and Prongs while Remus sat…

Well, you didn't know where he sat, but it was definitely not next to you.

"Miss Y/L/N, sit down please."

You closed your eyes for a moment when you heard Professor McGonagall's stern tone. With a quick glance around, it was obvious that you were the only one standing. So after a sharp exhale, you sat down next to Remus.

"Wanker."

Remus let out a derisive hum.

This. This was what would drive you crazy. This was what would make you want to strangle the boy, burn the body and get away with murder. That mocking, jeering and pleased hum.

James and Sirius would always tease you for not getting along with one person that anyone could get along with. Always fighting and bantering with one person that anyone could have a proper conversation with.

The problem was that they weren't exactly wrong.

You always witnessed how Remus was kind and gentle with everyone, rendering it absolutely impossible to bicker with him. He would smile and nod, easing his way out of every dilemma. He wouldn't pick a fight, and certainly wouldn't provoke anyone.

Except you.

With you, he was acting like a moronic person. Or that's what you thought.

When you were little, he would pull your braids in the mornings, but would mumble a quick 'I liked your hair today' in the evenings.

When you were famished for breakfast, he would grab the last waffle before you could, leaving you frowning with an aching hunger, but then leave bars of chocolate on your books during class breaks.

When you would be studying with the Marauders and couldn't cast a spell, he would smirk and mock your ineptness but would seek you out before the exam and explain how to move your wrist better than any professor could.

He would never disrespect you, but wouldn't let you stay sane throughout the day, either.

Lost between his inconsistent behaviours, you would find yourself confused, overthinking every tiny interaction to fathom if he cared for you or not. You would often decide on the latter.

For the sake of the other boys, you would ignore his gall and cheekiness. Although you had moments of outbursts, which would eventually lead to a bigger fight, you had managed to keep the problem under control so far.

"Miss, Y/L/N?"

You jerked your head up, finding the source of your name. McGonagall was piercing through you with her icy eyes, almost judging you for not listening, without voicing anything.

"Yes, professor?"

"Answer the question."

What question?

She asked a question?

You parted your lips, shuffling useless facts or overlooked memories in your mind to stumble upon the right one.

You felt one second drew out to one minute, or maybe it was simply your anxiety. Embarrassment was making its way under your skin with every second- or minute?

You were starting to sweat as your body was on fire.

"Levicorpus," Remus whispered under his mouth.

Not wasting a second, you repeated the word, earning a nod from the Professor. She turned away, carrying on with the lesson.

"What was the question?" you asked the boy. He didn’t bother to look at you.

"Pay attention next time."

“James, it’s a terrible, horrible, and incredibly foolish idea.”

You were dawdling around in the yard, enjoying the weather while you could. With the chill breeze mingling around your hair, nothing could ruin your peace. That is until the Marauders entered the scene.

“Exactly. That’s why we should do it.”

Being friends with James and Sirius was hard, especially if you’re the only one with common sense. Who would believe making a firework explosion in the middle of the Great Hall would earn them a ball to celebrate Christmas?

James and Sirius.

“We need to call Dumbledore’s attention. Bring it right up to the headmaster, or it won’t work,” Sirius backed up his friend. You ignored Remus’s scoff-like laugh.

“Your worry is that if you bomb up the Great Hall in front of any other professor except Dumbledore you won’t get a ball?”

“See, now you’re getting it-”

“What makes you think you will get a ball?”

James stopped walking, put his hands on each side of his waist in disappointment, and frowned.

“Now, you’re just repeating Moony.”

You glanced at Remus, who was staring at you with blank and tired eyes. This boy really needed to sleep, but that was another day’s problem. Your eyes lingered a bit longer on his attire before returning to James; tawny jumper with black lines and ivory trousers under a pastel orange trench coat.

“Rare moment of your Moony using his common sense,” you shrugged. “You know you’ll get a huge detention, right?”

“What else is new?” James smirked. “Are you gonna help us?”

The prospect of a ball during Christmas did entertain you. Fancy dresses and music, all while carousing with your friends was something no teenager would reject. And you knew if things wouldn’t go as planned, Marauders wouldn’t acknowledge your involvement; that was an agreement between the four boys even Remus had honoured. So you agreed to help them.

They made you regret it a few moments later in the Gryffindor common room.

“I’m not working with Remus.” you shook your head intently, wearing a displeased expression.

“Oh come on! Why not?” James pleaded. “You two are the best at Charms! You just need to figure out how to charm the fireworks to act how we want them to. Pete will get them and hide them, while Pads and I will handle transforming them into letters.”

“Because last time we worked on something together, it blew right in our faces.” you point at Remus with your hand. “I got zero when I could’ve got the best point available.”

“Wasn’t the potion perfect? Professor gave you a zero because you wouldn’t stop bickering,” Peter said. “It was very distracting.”

You cringed at the memory. Your hard work had held no value only for a little (or not so little) quarrel with your partner. The only nice outcome was that they rarely partnered you two together anymore.

Remus was slouched on the couch, legs apart with one hand placed on his thigh, while the other held a book. He lowered his book to look at your discontented face.

“I’m not happy about it either, yet you don’t see me whinging.”

You winced at him in aversion.

“I’d rather not see you at all.”

“You’d miss me,” he tilted his head, wearing a feigned smile.

James clapped his hands to prevent another incoming tiff.

“Alright, you two will start your research when you see fit and keep us updated. Don’t drag it out until November though, it’s a bit of a complicated matter.”

By the time a month had passed, you had figured that irritation was like a bunch of thorns piercing through your skin thanks to Remus. You had also learned that you can murder someone by spoon, but why would anyone bother themselves with shoving the spoon down Remus’s throat?

Therefore, you had been sitting with Remus every week, halting yourself from stabbing him with your quill. He wasn’t helping you out at all.

“Stop hitting my arm,” you whisper-shouted once more. Was Remus Lupin thick-headed? He didn’t look like it, so he probably just enjoyed getting a reaction out of you.

“What is your arm’s business next to mine? Sit properly.”

“Remus, If you haven’t noticed, you’re tall–”

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment, shut up,” your head snapped in his direction, facing his smug grin. “You’re taking much more space than me.”

“Well, sorry for you.”

“You’re distracting me from my studies.”

“You’re doodling right now,” he pointed to the paper before you with his brows. “And miserably failing, if I may add.”

“No, you may not–”

“Is that supposed to be a rabbit?” he inclined his head an inch more to the paper. You smelled his shampoo from his hair, crisp and woodsy and; the brown locks were so close you wanted to run your hand through them to see if they were real.

“That’s clearly a cat.”

“Why does your cat have two paws?”

“She’s sitting!”

“You really suck at this,” he propped his head back, offering you a pitiful look.

“Oh, and you’re rocking?”

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Y/L/N,” you flinched at your name from McGonagall.

“But professor, Lupin–”

“One more distraction and I will make it twenty.”

You clenched your jaw shut and lowered your head, letting embarrassment swallow you whole as all Gryffindor students sent you scrutinising glares. Of course, you would be the unlucky one that would get picked by the professor, not Remus, who was provoking you in the first place.

So, until the end of the class, you kept your head low and zoned out with your doodles.

You drew a circle, but it was more like a sun in your mind. Or the moon. You didn’t remember.

You drew ears for the moon, and it seemed like two triangles stuck to a circle, but you didn’t mind that either.

You even took some notes of the lesson but then you scribbled something that’s supposed to be a lamp or a cactus on them, so they weren’t very readable in the end.

You only snapped out of it when the unusual noise rioted, signalling that the class was dismissed. You had spent an hour doing nothing; an amazing use of time.

Remus pushed a parchment on your art pieces, covering them. You didn’t see what was scrawled on the parchment as Remus’s hand had blocked the ink.

“I do rock,” he said before heading out of the classroom.

You stared after him as he disappeared behind the door. You thought he would be in the library as you lifted the parchment.

It was a sketch of you from the side.

You took the red velvet cookie in your hand, examining it for any trace of poison. They seemed perfectly fine, delicious even. What was troubling you was that they were a treat from James. Thus, there was no way you could get good-looking, appetising, tasty cookies without a headache.

“Have you two started your research?”

That was it. You had a headache.

Therefore, you deserved the cookies. You took three of them in your hand and threw yourself next to Sirius. You turned to lock eyes with Remus, all while nibbling on your sweet.

You noticed him looking at you and then your hands and then...your lips? You immediately pushed the thought deep into your mind, not indulging it even a second. No, he was probably staring at the cookie next to your lips.

Unconsciously, you put the sweet down and arched a brow at him.

“Not yet,” he said without breaking eye contact with you.

You heard James groan and used it as an excuse to avert your eyes, but you could still feel his brown gaze set your body aflame. You couldn’t quite figure out if it was his hatred or something else that you refused to voice that was burning through you. You didn’t dwell on it.

“You’re waiting for Christmas Eve to do it?”

“Prongs is right, Pick a time and do your homework, lads,” Sirius agreed. “Pete is done already.”

“It’s hard to mentally prepare yourself for Remus,” you said, mouth half full.

“Don’t talk your mouth full, it’s disgusting.”

“You haven’t seen yourself eating, have you?”

“Here we go again,” James complained. “Just go to the bloody library and find the spells, will ya?”

Remus stood up, and strode up next to you, towering over you. You stared at him like he was a crazy person, which he was in your opinion.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Now?”

“Yes, you have things to do?”

You didn’t have things to do. In fact, your only to-do list for today was eating red velvet cookies. That’s why you didn’t know why you were hesitant to go and be alone with Remus. You didn’t know why your heart started to pick a race, either.

“I’m…” You looked around, seeking an excuse that you knew didn’t exist. “Eating cookies?”

Remus grabbed the cookie jar. “You’ll eat them on our way to the library.”

All four boys were looking at you expectantly, so you hopped on your feet. You didn’t bother to take the jar from Remus.

“Don’t sulk, Y/N, it’s for the greater good!” You heard Sirius call after you.

You exited the common room, went down the stairs and hastened to the library. You didn’t look back for Remus; you knew he was there. You could feel his presence.

You didn’t question how he had managed to get the cookie jar in when you entered the library and he placed it on a table. You simply turned to the books, chasing their titles with your finger.

“What are we exactly looking for?”

“Something that will charm the fireworks to act how we want,” Remus mumbled, too focused on the book titles. You noticed him examining the shelves that you had passed because of your height. It both irritated and tingled you the way he effortlessly could reach the top shelves.

“And how do we want them to act?”

“Fly around in order, not the way they fly around usually.”

You hummed and didn’t engage in anything more. Taking a cookie from the jar, you started reading and digging into all sorts of books.

How to charm your brush to comb your hair?

Not the one you've been looking for but sounded nice, you should look it up some other time.

Charms to take revenge on the ones that wronged you.

Would Remus get suspicious if you picked that one? You should look that one up too, next time.

Charms for cheating in the exam.

Why did a school shelter a book like this?

Charms for celebrations.

You smiled, looking up at the red-covered book. If there was a celebration, then there certainly would be fireworks.

You stretched out your hand to take the book, but your fingers only brushed its spine.

You climbed on your tiptoes, trying again. This time you could feel the engraved title letters on the spine. But other than that, to no avail.

A heft and warmth, that didn’t belong to you, stroke your body. Your skin reacted faster than you did. You felt the surge of an unfamiliar heat and shivers under your skin, unable to fathom the hand on your hand.

You turned your head back, almost bumping it into Remus's chin. He wasn't looking at you, but you could see his clenched jaw and stiffened shoulders. The close proximity was suffocating, or maybe your breath had hitched. Either way, you held your breath.

Remus grabbed the red book, stepped back and started skimming it.

"You're starting,” he said.

It took you longer than usual to react to him.

"I found the book first," you said after recovering from the sudden and uncharacteristic surge of heat. You hoped your face wasn't flustered.

"Why didn't you take it first then?"

He was mocking your height difference, and it didn’t annoy you this time. It did, however, make you conscious of your heart’s rhythm.

"I was close. You interrupted me."

Remus looked up from the book, a teasing smile gleaming on his lips.

"The only thing you were close to was hitting your head on the shelf."

You frown, being absolutely free of his previous effect on you. You snatched the book out of his hand and sat behind the table. You didn't raise your head when Remus stood in front of you and over your head, with his arms placed on the table.

You focused on the ink, forgetting Remus’s suffocating presence. That’s why you didn’t want to be left alone with him.

After a few minutes and lines or pages, your eyes twinkled with mischief. Two pages of instruction on different ways of charming fireworks.

"Found it."

The easy part was done.

You let Remus take the book from you. He read the page with a wrinkle between his brows and nodded after finishing it.

“We’ll have to start practising it soon.”

“Have some pity, I exceeded my weekly tolerance of you, today,” you murmured. “I can’t spend any more time with you.”

“And what made you think that I enjoyed our time together?” Remus stepped a bit back and leaned into a shelf.

You parted your lips and then closed them again. Time had gone rather unproblematic with Remus today, and ended without a headache. It was almost...boring.

“You never even once did something to annoy me.”

His lips curved, eyes gleaming in amusement.

“Do you want me to annoy you?”

You hated the teasing in his tone. Something between confusion and disclosure hit you in the gut, goosebumps rose in your arm as a response to your fluttering heart.

“What? No, why would I–”

“Do you enjoy bickering with me, Y/N?”

“I don’t!"

“You sure? Sometimes it sounds like you’re picking fights with me on purpose.”

“You flatter yourself, Lupin,” you laughed, a bit awkwardly. He was smiling now, one step away from smirking. You noticed you rarely saw him smile this big around you. It was beautiful.

“Just like you said, I wasn’t the one annoying you today. You started it.”

You felt the temperature rise in your body, embracing you without your consent. You didn’t appreciate the way he threw the accusations at you or the way his eyes wrinkled adorably when he beamed.

“You’re not the only one hating the other.”

Your lips uttered the words but you didn’t hear yourself. You were too busy to stare at his changing expressions. His smile ebbed a little, but not enough to wipe the soft wrinkles around his eyes. He walked up to you, excruciatingly slow, looming over you. You watched his eyes rambling between your eyes, and even travelling to your lips, too. Your eyes, however, stayed only on the brown orbs, sorting out every layer, every colour, every blemish one by one.

“I don’t hate you,” you heard him drawl.

Before you could take in what he murmured, his face changed into something else. You fathomed it from the twitch in his jaw and his faltering blinks.

“You’re just annoying,” he said as if recovering his tone.

He stepped back, eyes lingering on your lips for one more second before turning away. You bit down your lips as you watched him exit the library.

“I brought candles,” you announced, tossing the candles to the wooden floor. They made an uncomfortably loud thud on the ground, causing you to grimace in displeasure.

“Yes, please make sure to break all of them. Don’t leave one unharmed,” you rolled your eyes at Remus’s cynical voice in the other corner of the Requirement Room.

You two have been visiting there to learn the charm of the fireworks every week. For two weeks, you had been working with the sticks and had mastered them. Thus, it was time to finally alter the sticks with candles, something that resembled a firework according to Sirius. They didn’t want to work on fireworks, it would be a waste for James.

“They’re fine. Don’t be dramatic,” you said to him as he walked up to you, glancing at the candles on the floor.

You felt him squat down, grabbing a white candle. He showed you a crack on it that wasn’t there before.

“It was there before.”

“Yeah, sure,” he grinned. “What’s with the colours?”

You shrugged. Why choose only white candles when you could have red and yellow and purple and pink also?

“Don’t mind the colours. Let’s start.”

Remus lit a candle as you took out your wand. He placed it on a chair, and stepped back, waiting for you to cast the spell.

When you first muttered the incantation, nothing happened.

You tried again, this time more fiercely both in your spelling and movements.

Nothing happened, The candle was sitting on the chair, mocking you with its flame. You were sure Remus was also repeating the same internally.

“You’re too hesitant to bend your wrist,” he said.

You didn’t hear any teasing in his voice but still cringed in embarrassment.

“You won’t put out the candle if you bend your wrist a bit hard, Y/N. Stop hesitating,” he said again.

You tried once more, despite the sweat forming on your temple from anxiety.

With sticks, it was easy. Say the spell, bend the wrist and aim the wand.

With candles, you were afraid you would mess it up somehow; maybe put out the fire or even start a bigger fire. It was a fire, after all, it was dangerous.

When you failed again, Remus made his way to you, standing only a step away behind you.

You felt his breath behind your neck as he closed that one step, laying his body onto yours. You didn’t manage to ask him what he was doing, you didn’t need to. Your heart dropped when he put his hand on yours, lifting it in the air. He aimed it towards the candle, but you were too out of it to apprehend.

Your whole body was focused on his skin on yours, savouring his touch on you without your permission. Suddenly, you didn’t think the sweat was from anxiety. You didn’t think your heartbeats were from embarrassment. You didn’t think your whole body was aflame because you were conscious of your ineptness.

You knew what it was. You knew what it was that set fires in the core of your chest, grasped the air from your lungs, and took the strength in your muscles away.

But you didn’t acknowledge it.

You let Remus move your arm, copying the instructions. You let him brush your hand with his fingers. You let him show you how to bend your wrist all while his hand on yours. You let him whisper the incantation in your ear.

You felt the void around your fingers when he withdrew his hand and his body from yours.

“Go on,” he said, so low you wouldn’t hear him if you weren’t holding your breath.

You aimed the wand, bent your wrist, and cast the spell.

The candle rose to the air, attracting a few candles to itself and lighting them up.

“Attagirl. My turn."

You said nothing as you stepped away, letting Remus place himself in front of the chair. You lighted another candle for him and put it on the chair.

You watched him take a stance and aim his wand. You didn’t know if it was because of his stance or his long legs or arms, but he looked…handsome.

He looked handsome with his serious expression; wrinkled brows, clenched jaw, stiff shoulders and narrowed eyes.

Heck, he looked handsome with his smiling expression too; curled-up pink lips, brown locks decorating his forehead, chestnut eyes glistening as his smile.

You cursed yourself at your admission.

He cast the spell, succeeding with the first attempt. The side of his lip inched up with pride for a tiny second.

You did it. You were ready for the plan. The only thing left was James and Sirius’s work.

He turned his eyes to yours.

“We did it.”

“Yes,” you nodded and got to collect the candles.

Remus frowned, visibly uncomfortable at something.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What?”

You refused to glance at him. You didn’t want to admit anything else just because his ridiculous gorgeousness affected you.

“Something’s wrong. You’re acting weird.”

“How am I acting weird? I’m just cleaning up the mess so we can go and eat.”

“Yeah, but,” he started helping you out by gathering the unused candles, “You’re a bit–”

“I didn’t know you cared about me,” you snapped your head in his direction.

He stopped whatever he was doing. You saw him swallow.

“I don’t.”

“Good.”

You almost threw your candles at him.

“I’m going to dinner.”

You didn’t wait for him. As you exited the room, you reminded yourself that he thought of you as annoying.

“Stop panicking.”

“I’m not panicking!” You wiped your palms on your cloak, counting to ten to calm your nervousness.

“Yeah, sure, that’s why your breath is unsteady.”

“Why are you even focused on my breath?”

You frowned when Remus didn’t reply.

It was a big day. In the end, you'll either end up dreaming about your ball dress or worrying about the detention.

James and Sirius were in the Great Hall, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak. They were waiting for your charmed fireworks as you and Remus were waiting for Peter to bring them behind the gate.

Everyone was busy eating their dinner, like a casual evening. Chatters and clatters were mingling in the air, serving you an opportunity for secrecy.

Remus was standing next to you–a bit close, as your arms were glued together. His eyes were on the corner where James and Sirius were, as your eyes should be looking for Peter.

Except that you weren't looking for Peter.

No matter how much you wanted to prevent it, your eyes were drawn to Remus.

For the last fifteen days, it had been this way. You would look for Remus in every corner, and your heart would chirp like a bird when you would find him. You would start agitating him so maybe he would react, and wouldn’t back down when he would annoy you first.

Even now, you couldn’t help but steal secret peeks at him. Sharp jawline and unblemished face despite the scars were completed with downy hair and hazel eyes.

He was stunning and you were attracted to him. Your five-years-ago self would roll her eyes at you if she was to see you. You were attracted to him despite his annoyance with you, and your pride hated you for that.

You were sure if Remus knew your newly emerging feeling for him, he would mock you to the point you cried.

You turned your head away from Remus when you heard heavy step voices. Peter was bringing a box full of fireworks, trying to be as discreet as possible in the meantime. You stepped up and helped him. He nodded at you before entering the Great Hall like a starved boy whose only intention was to have dinner.

You pulled Remus’s sleeve and he turned to you. You heard him mumble ‘right’ under his breath before taking out his wand. You repeated the same, waiting for him to sort out the fireworks.

“We’ll do it at the same time, remember. Or James won’t be able to Accio all of them at once.”

You nodded, aiming your wand all while alerting your senses to Remus’s voice. Between all the noise from the Great Hall, he had to raise his tone from whispers.

“One. Two. Three.”

Both of you cast the spell. You made sure to bend your wrist this time. Two of the fireworks lit up and attracted other fireworks to themselves. Remus sent James the signal.

Seconds passed, but the fireworks weren’t Accio’d anywhere.

You waited a bit more, glancing at Remus to see him do the same with a frown.

Another few seconds passed.

Nothing.

It was getting dangerous. You couldn’t be near them. They were about to blow up.

You squirmed close to the wall, adrenalin filling up your veins and piercing your heart. Remus was sending the signal over and over again but to no avail.

You wanted to run but your legs were glued to the ground, not even managing to help your standing let alone running. You winced as the firework got close to blowing by a second.

One more second and it was going to explode right in your faces.

One.

You felt Remus’s body on yours, pushing you hard to the wall, almost squeezing you with his torso. His arms held your sides as you leaned into him, clenching your eyes shut.

You waited for the big hit.

But it never came.

Remus raised his head from yours, checking around.

Fireworks weren’t there.

Just when you moved to get away from Remus’s hold, blaring cracks emerged in the air. You let out a scream, thinking it came from near you. Remus squeezed your arms, snapping his head to you.

“Bloody hell, Y/N, my ears just bled.”

You looked around frantically, still standing between Remus and the wall. Your eyes averted back to Remus when you saw the real firework art was going on in the Great Hall. The fireworks were forming letters.

Chatters had turned into cheers, screams of excitement and joy echoing in your ears. You felt the colours of the fireworks on the walls, halls, your clothes and Remus’s body.

Remus’s body, which was too close to yours.

“Sorry,” you uttered, gazing into the depth of his brown.

“You alright?” he asked low, not letting you out of his grasp.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded. “You?”

“I’m alright.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he drawled, repeating to you.

His hands around your biceps were now burning up your skin. He was supposed to let you go now. Let you go and put a distance between your bodies.

Your heart cried at the thought of space. You begged and hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t loosen his grip.

You started counting seconds. He didn’t let go.

His stare at you darkened, breathing getting heavier by the second.

Your eyes lowered to his lips. They looked both soft and chapped. He parted his lips.

You looked back into his eyes. They were piercing through you, welcoming thoughts in your head that you so desperately shunned. You felt his touch on your skin tighten.

You yearned for his touch not only on your arm but every inch of your body.

You reminded yourself that he was annoyed by you.

You didn’t blink. You didn’t inhale. You didn’t exhale.

You put your hands on his face and crashed your lips onto his.

The butterflies inside you resonated with the fireworks inside the Great Hall. Your heart quivered at the feeling of his lips on yours. Your chest flamed up in lust, your body smiled when you felt Remus’s hands wander to your back.

He kissed you back, welcoming the passion to run free in your veins.

You arched your back just to have him closer. You felt his slips stretch into a smirk, his fingers digging into your skin.

You kissed him harder.

His heavy breaths mingled with yours, hovering over your face. Your whole body shivered under his silky lips, sheltering the heat of your chest under his touch. His hands covered every inch of your body, learning it by heart. The heft of your lust drowned under the intensity of his manoeuvres.

Your heads were up in the clouds, unaware of anything going down around you.

You forgot where you were. You forgot what you were doing. You forgot why you were doing what you were doing. The dark in your eyes leaked shadows in your mind, blackening every thought.

That is until three boys intervened.

You pushed Remus away, putting the distance you so despised between you two. You pushed your lips together in an attempt to hide their red and swollen state. You ignored the cry of your lips, body, heart and soul for Remus’s caress.

“WE DID IT! WE’RE GOING TO CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS WITH A BALL!”

You grinned at James and let the boys have their celebration. You didn’t cast a glance at Remus. You didn’t see him not taking his eyes off of yours for even a second.

It was Friday. The last Transfiguration class before the well-deserved ball.

You were seated behind your desk, definitely not waiting for Remus.

You two hadn’t talked about the kiss since it happened. Hell, you hadn’t even talked to each other properly.

You might be ignoring him a little bit.

You were leaving the room when he was entering, going to sleep when he was approaching you, and being busy when he was trying to talk to you.

You might be ignoring him not so little bit.

Your leg was bouncing up and down, and you were fighting with your urge to not check the door every ten seconds. You hadn't quite figured out how you were feeling, but you knew it was something intense that your hands were freezing not because of the winter but because of the nervousness.

The same nervousness that made your mouth run dry when you saw Remus enter the classroom. The same nervousness that made you breathe quicker and feel dizzy when you felt Remus sit down next to you. The same nervousness that turned yanked the colours out of your face when you heard him talk.

“Will you run again if I open my mouth?”

“You just did,” you say, trying to sound as casual as you could. You weren’t facing him just the way he wasn’t facing you.

“And you didn’t run.”

“I didn’t.”

“Good,” he nodded. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

“No?”

His head snapped at you, forcing you to turn to him as well.

“Don’t mock me, Y/N,” he warned, irritated.

“I’m not mocking you, Remus. I’m just–”

“What did I do wrong?” he cut you off. “Tell me.”

Your heart skipped a bit at his question, clenching around a pain that you wished to ignore.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I don’t understand,” he frowned. “ You kissed me. So, I’m guessing you wanted it.”

You didn’t reply, too busy reliving the whimsical moment that had been keeping you awake at night, attacking your heart with butterflies.

“You did want it, right?”

“Yes,” you snapped back to the moment. “Yes, I did.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong and maybe I can rectify it,” he said. “Tell me what I did that you’re ignoring me.”

You didn’t know what to tell him.

You couldn’t tell him that you were running from him because you were too embarrassed to look him in the eye and admit that you were attracted to him. You couldn’t tell him that you were still figuring out what you were feeling, too afraid to get your heart broken.

You couldn’t tell him that despite your fears and doubts, you were still yearning for the sound of his laugh and craving the touch of his skin on your skin. You couldn’t tell him that there wasn't a moment in which your mind could offer you any other thought than him.

So you told him the first thing that came to your mind.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Remus looked appalled, eyebrows furrowing.

“What?”

“It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“Yes.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“We both know it wasn’t a mistake. Stop lying to yourself.”

“I-I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to–”

“I’m not asking you to marry me.”

“I know!” you said, losing your temper for a second. “I know, Remus. I’m just not sure about...well, everything.”

You watched him inhale deeply, contemplating something in his mind. You wished to know what was going on in his head but didn’t ask.

“We can, uh,” he started, “We can try to be friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yeah, until we figure out whatever this is.”

You stared into his eyes, they weren’t pleased. Like they were keeping something back. You didn’t know how to ask him that, so you didn’t

“Friends,” you repeated as if testing the word. “I guess it can work.”

Remus nodded and stretched out his hand to you. You stared at his hand for a moment, recalling the way they caressed your skin a few days ago. You ached for that feeling.

“Anytime before I graduate would be nice,” he said.

You muttered a quick ‘sorry’ before shaking his hand.

Geoffrey Fawley had asked you to be his date for the ball.

He was a nice boy from what you had heard from James. He was in the Quidditch team with James and was a good chaser. Of course, you hadn’t mentioned either James or Sirius about your date. You wanted them to be surprised so you could mock them later on.

You hadn’t mentioned Remus about it, either. Why should you? Right?

It was only two days since you had agreed to be friends and in those two days you barely even talked, mainly because you were too busy choosing a dress for the ball.

To your delight, you had found the perfect one.

Checking your attire with one last glance, you turned your heels and walked out of the dorm room straight to the hall.

Geoffrey was waiting for you with a smile; he was an undeniably charming boy, you had to admit. Blonde hair sparkling above the green eyes with a graceful frame, he could steal any girl's heart.

Except that yours was already stolen by a pair of brown eyes.

You pushed Remus's visage deep in your mind, refusing to revive your disappointment when he didn't ask you out to the ball as his date.

You let Geoffrey take your hand and curtly lead you from the door to the ball.

"You look absolutely gorgeous."

"Thank you," you smiled.

As you two occupied yourself with small talk, you didn’t notice James and Sirius making their way to you. You had learned that Geoffrey has two elder sisters, he doesn’t like chocolate and he unsurprisingly loves Quidditch. He was kind, sensible, and a great listener.

He was everything and nothing you ever wanted. He wasn’t Remus.

“Fawley! Y/N is your date?!” James called, smiling from ear to ear as he approached you.

“Yes, Potter. Apparently, she deemed me worthy of standing by her side tonight,” Geoffrey joked back, smiling at you gently.

“Ah, yes, fancy words,” Sirius dropped his arm around your shoulders. “Have you kissed yet? Her lipstick looks intact.”

“Sirius!” you hit him in the torso.

“I’ll take this as a no and head out to Remus,” Sirius said, “He’s been a moody bitch these days.”

“Where’s he?” you asked, forcing your tone to the casual.

James turned back, pointing at someone with his hand.

“There. The one with the sour face and brown hair.”

He had leaned against a wall, looking around with a frown. He was captivating in a black suit, his hair falling into all the right places and creating an art-like view. You enjoyed the view a few moments more, memorising every little detail about his figure. You wished he could be a bit closer to you.

“He doesn’t look like he enjoys himself. Should we invite him?” Geoffrey asked.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. He looks comfortable–”

“Nonsense, Y/N,” Sirius cut in. “Oi! Moony! Come here!”

You squeezed your lips together as Remus reached you. He was without a date.

Would it be malicious if you felt relieved by that?

“You guys have fun. Lily is waiting for me,” James said before leaving you four together.

“He is with Lily?” you asked Sirius, both surprised and happy.

“Geoffrey must have really swept you off your feet,” Remus drawled, staring into your eyes.

You felt uncomfortable. Not because of Remus’s words but because of Geoffrey’s presence. You smiled at Remus awkwardly, knowing you had Geoffrey’s eyes on you.

“You don’t have a date, Remus?”

“No,” he said to you. You felt cold at his tone.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find someone here.”

“I don’t want to find someone.”

You felt Geoffrey grab your hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

You smiled and nodded at him, letting him carry you to the dance floor.

He put his hand on your waist as you placed your hand on his shoulder. He intertwined your other hands together and started moving with the rhythm.

You glanced at his eyes only for a moment before dragging them to every corner of the room. They landed on Remus.

His eyes cut through your chest like a dagger, reminding you of every feeling your skin, heart and soul had felt two days ago.

You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus touching you. You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus smiling at you. You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus’s words that were whispered in your ear.

“You seem distracted.”

“Oh,” you locked eyes with Geoffrey again, smiling. “Forgive me.”

“It’s Lupin, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have been acting weird since he stopped by.”

Your smile ebbed as guilt prickled inside of your chest. Geoffrey chuckled at your fortified expression.

“It’s alright, you know. I knew you had no feelings for me when I asked you. I just didn’t think you may have feelings for another.”

You lowered your head to his chest. There was no point in denying it.

“I’m so sorry Geoffrey, truly. I didn’t mean to disrespect you–”

“You haven’t”

“Or offend you.”

“You haven’t either,” he shook his head in a warm smile.

“I shouldn’t have said yes,” you mumbled before looking up at him.

“I’m glad that you did. I wouldn’t be able to move on if I didn’t hear you reject me.”

You admired his genuinity, and his pleasant smile and his gentle manner.

You adored his kindness and good heart. He was the kind of boy that would never annoy you, bicker with you or hurt your feelings.

But he wasn’t the kind of a boy that would make your heart race in excitement, passion and desire.

He wasn’t Remus.

When the dance ended, you couldn’t find Remus.

“Go,” Geoffrey said, “I’ll be alright. It’s obvious that you two need to talk.”

You thanked him before placing a short peck on the cheek. Then, you dashed to Sirius, who was too busy getting drunk.

“Padfoot, where’s Remus?” you yelled, attempting to drown the music.

“Where’s who?”

“Remus! Where’s Remus?!”

“I’m here,” you startled at his voice behind you.

You parted your lips to speak to him but he acted faster.

“Come with me,” he said, holding your hand and dragging you away from the people.

He led you to another room and closed the door after him.

“A bit quiet.”

You nodded, feeling the blood in your veins rush. It had only been a second since you were alone with him and your feelings were already messed up.

An awkward silence filled the room.

“Remus, I don’t want to–”

“You didn’t tell me you–”

You sighed, hoping that he would talk first. And he did.

“You didn’t tell me you had a date.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I didn’t know I had to.”

“I thought we were…friends,” his teasing tone daunted your nerves. You forgot what you were searching Remus for.

“We’re not that close friends.”

“You seemed pretty close with Geoffrey.”

Pride clawed at your insides, taking an internal scream from you. It didn’t hurt, you felt powerful.

“Jealous much?” you managed to hide the smirk but you didn’t hide the smug tone. You saw Remus clench his jaw and clear his throat before talking.

“What if I am?”

“Then I’d ask you the reason,” you said. Your smug tone changed into something different, something desirous.

“Don’t tire yourself, love. I’m not jealous.”

“Nice,” you smiled, stepping forward. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I returned to my date.”

Remus filled the void between you and the door with his body, not letting you go through. You peeked at his lips momentarily.

“We’re not done talking.”

You hoped you could cover your jitters with cheekiness because your heart was racing, your mouth was dry and your hands were trembling with anticipation. You didn’t even want to mention the surges of fire and flood inside you exhausting each other.

“Oh, isn’t this new? You finally want to talk to me after years of vexation.”

“That’s what friends do, right?” he shrugged.

The way that ‘friend’ word agitated you was ridiculous.

“I’m all ears,” you told him, still not backing away from him, holding onto the distance that could easily be conquered with one step.

You were finally close enough to him to easily feel him under your touch. You could see the beauty marks, freckles and scars vividly. You wouldn’t even need to get closer to caress them. You only needed to raise your hand and–

“I fancy you.”

Your eyes shot up from his lips to his eyes, widening in bemusement. You chose not to let your ears deceive you, not to let the words plant hope in you, not to let butterflies escape their cage.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he frowned. “I’ve been fancying you since you were a little girl and I was a little boy.”

“You hated me when you were a little boy and I was a little girl.”

You shook your head. He did the same.

“No, I didn’t. Annoying you was the only way to get you to talk to me, so I clung to it for years.”

You felt the heft weighing you down drag you onto the surface, letting you finally breathe. You felt the fireworks inside you, or maybe that was just butterflies. Your heart chirped in its cage, ready for you to set it free.

“I fancy you, too.”

You set your heart free from its cage. You let him fly away, welcoming the warmth that the boy before you had to offer.

Remus straightened and closed the distance between you two.

“You do?”

“Yes,” you whispered. “I do.”

You closed your eyes, giving into the night when you felt Remus’s hand on your cheek. You drew a breath in when you felt his other hand on your waist. You parted your lips when you felt his hot breath on your lips.

Anticipation climbed its way from your stomach all the way to your heart, shaking your breath. One more inch closer and you would die in his lips, one more second later and you would break down under his touch, one more breath in and you would crumble into pieces by his kiss.

“Would you like to see how I ruin a friendship in a second?”

“Yes,” you pleaded.

He closed the one last inch, spent the one last second and inhaled the one last breath.

He kissed your lips.

You died in his lips, broke down under his touch and crumbled into pieces by his kiss.

His lips, so soft and silky, intoxicated your mind. His touch, so gentle yet so firm, ignited your skin. His skin under your hands, so warm and flawless, blazed your fingertips.

You melted under him, ready to die in his arms.

He kissed your lips until they were red and swollen. He kissed you until you were breathless and dizzy. He touched you until he sent shivers down your spine.

When you pulled away, his eyes dark and in trance were still on your lips, his lips placing pecks on all over your face.

You smiled into his lips, letting him embrace you.

“James owes Sirius ten sickles.”

“What?” you laughed, taking in his scent.

“Two years ago they had a bet on us,” he said, and you loved the way ‘us’ echoed between his lips. “Sirius said sooner or later we would get together."

“We just made Sirius ten sickles richer.”

I love that I can write Remus both as a kind, gentle, sweet boy and as a mysterious, complicated but hot boy. It just makes sense in both ways.

Anyways, if you've read this far, thank you so much for your time. And thank you to the person that sent the request.

Please let me know what you think!

and if you loved this fic or my writing, buy me a coffee <33

#remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin #remus x you #the maruaders #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin smut #remus lupin supremacy #remus lupin scenario #harry potter #andrew garfield #taylor swift

[theemporium]

#13 with remus lupin 🥰

13. “You want me, don’t you?”

. 

It was an unspoken rule amongst the group that nobody ever mentioned the tension between you and Remus. 

No one was quite sure why but it seemed to be a rule that everyone mutually agreed on, despite never having actually discussed the topic—both between themselves and between you and Remus. They just watched the endless flirting and pining and lingering gaze and accepted that maybe one day, one of you would act upon your feelings. 

And to be completely honest, you thought the same. 

But months passed and doubts started to grow and now you weren’t too sure. 

He would always sit next to you at breakfast, making your coffee and placing it in front of your plate before you could even say ‘good morning’. He would always offer to carry your books and accompany you to the library when you wanted a silent study session that the Gryffindor common room could never offer. He would always find excuses to be physical with you, whether it was an arm tugging you closer when you felt cold or thighs pressed against each other because he insisted you squished into the spot next to him on the couch.

But he never once asked you on a date, or made a move, or even just admitted that he did, in fact, like you.

You started overthinking and worrying and the realisation that you loved your best friend started to stress you out when you weren’t totally sure where he stood, so you did the only reasonable thing anyone would do in your situation—you started to distance yourself from Remus. 

Remus noticed. Of course he noticed pretty quickly when one morning you suddenly started sitting beside James and Lily. And then the confusion turned to hurt when he noticed how you’d always sit next to Sirius in large group settings. And then his feelings bubbled into something more when he noticed you sneaking away to the library with other classmates or even by yourself. 

However, it wasn’t until two weeks later when Remus actually confronted you on the matter. 

The Gryffindor common room was bursting with music, cheers and cheap alcohol smuggled past the professors as they celebrated another win against Slytherin that blasted them ahead in the Quidditch cup this year. You were happily settled in the corner, half-drank drink in hand and cheeks flushed as you laughed and cheered James and Sirius dancing on the tables. 

You hadn’t even noticed Remus approaching until he was right beside you, his head dipping down as his whispered words met your ear. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Your head snapped around, lips parting in surprise as a wave of familiarity and longing hit you. Merlin, you had missed him more than you expected, and it made you feel a little pathetic. 

“Remus,” you said his name because you couldn’t say anything else.

“Glad to see you still remember who I am,” he answered with a hint of amusement in his tone. “I wasn’t sure considering you’ve done your best to ignore me the last fortnight.” 

Now, over the years, you had dealt with a lot of different moods from Remus. You prided yourself in being quite sufficient at devising how the wizard felt. Whether he was moody because he didn’t get enough sleep and just needed a nap to refresh himself. If he was anxious or hungry or pissed off or—most commonly—done with whatever nonsense the other boys were trying to rope him into (even if he would eventually agree). 

But this. 

This was something you knew all too well. Your mind racked for the date, counting back the date and you knew—you knew it was a few days until the next full moon. 

Remus Lupin was a kind man, a gentleman who respected everyone around him no matter what. But around the full moon—especially days before—he was something else. 

“C’mon, doll, y’know I don’t like it when you’re quiet,” he murmured, reaching to grip your chin between his fingers. “Why were you avoiding me?” 

“I, uh,” you cleared your throat, your cheeks flushing under his watchful gaze. His lips were twitched up a little, so close to a smirk. “I haven’t been avoiding—“

He lightly tsked, shaking his head softly. “Don’t lie to me, baby.” 

“Remus, it’s not your fault, I swear—“

“And now you’re avoiding the question,” he hummed and his thumb lightly traced the bottom of your lip. “Answer the question.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, your heart racing and mind whirling at the way he was looking at you, the way his fingers traced along your lips and his body moved towards you until you were pressed against the wall, Remus blocking you out from the rest of the party. 

“You want me, don’t you?” he murmured, his eyes darkening at the way your tongue darted out to lick your lips. “Your pretty little head is just getting in the way, isn’t it?”

“How—“ 

“I like you too, doll,” he murmured, his hand now cupping your cheek as he tilted your head up to catch his gaze. “But I don’t like when you ignore me for two weeks for no bloody reason.” 

“M’sorry,” you whispered to him, swallowing a little when his thumb pushed against your lips, parting them and slowly sliding his finger into your mouth. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he mused as your lips wrapped around his finger with ease, your wide eyes staring up at him. “But it’s fine, I can think of plenty of ways for you to make it up to me, hm? What do you think?” 

All you could do was nod, letting him take your hand and guide you far away from the party to show you just how much he enjoyed being ignored.

.

#remus lupin #marauders #harry potter #hp #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fic #remus lupin oneshot #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #marauders fic #marauders one shot #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter fic #harry potter oneshot #hp x reader #hp x you #hp x y/n

[starrystormwritings]

Approval

Approval

Master List <3 Request list <3 Marauders Master List

Regulus Black x Slytherin! Potter! Reader

A/n: This had no plot as I began writing it I had no idea what I was doing and just winged it. I'm desperately looking for requests because I have no ideas at the moment lol. Anyway this is my first time writing anything Harry Potter/ Marauders so if anything is ooc let me know and bare with me <3

Summery: You and Regulus have been keeping your relationship secret from fear of your brother and his friends approval.

Warnings: Swearing, judgment, a little ooc (James and Sirius come across kind of mean I cant lie), reader is James's sister but no mention of their parents or appearance so you can imagine being adopted.

Word Count: 2367

(NOT MY GIF)

"Hey guys!" I said with a smile, taking a seat next to my brother and his friends at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.

"Why were you talking to him?" James asked me with a frown, my brother has forever hated the Slytherin house and as much as I can't blame him when I see the way that some of them act I also feel as if I need to defend them, seeming as it is my house.

James was devastated when the sorting hat placed me in Slytherin.

He spent weeks arguing with Professor Mcgonigal about how it was wrong and how I needed a do over because there is no way his 'good hearted and kind little sister could be one of those snakes'

I'd be lying if I said it didn't sting a little, I fit in with the other Slytherins in my year and made friends easily. I stayed away from the ones who shared the likes and opinions of people like Snape because I couldn't bring myself to be friends with people with such hurtful and outdated views.

But a lot of the people I met were nice and friendly.

But James would refuse to ever see that.

"I was taking to him because he's my friend, and we were walking to breakfast together." I said with a roll of my eyes, leaning over to grab myself some food.

"You are not friends with that snake." James said with a look of disgust.

He went to continue his complaints but Sirius cut him off.

"Evan Rosier is one of my brothers friends. Stay away from him." He said with a frown glaring over at the Slytherin table over my shoulder.

"Well even though he is your brothers friend he's also mine. I know shocking crossover for you. He's a nice guy, we do potions study sessions together and he's helped me with charms. He's a nice enough guy." I shook my head at Sirius with a frown, fed up of having the same conversation again and again.

"He's a pure blood Y/n." James said with a frown.

"And so are we, and Sirius." I said with a chuckle, looking to Remus for help but he just looked straight back down at his book.

"Yeah but we're not like them. They're mean and well snakes." James said, trying to keep his voice down despite his growing annoyance.

"They're family's made them like that. Not everyone could get away like Sirius luckily did. Evans a nice enough guy, and if he wasn't you know I'd stop talking to him."

"Yeah but-" James started before I cut him off.

"Remus help me here please." I sighed looking over at Remus pleadingly as he gave me a 'keep me out of this' look.

"Guys leave her alone, she can be friends with who she wants to be." He offered me a small smile before looking back down at his book "Now leave me out of this I'm trying to study."

"Fine fine. Anyway do you guys want to head to the library to pull a prank, I was thinking we could hex the books to make them scream if you fold the paper. Will probably make some people jump out of their skin." James said with a laugh, elbowing Sirius to hype him up about this stupid idea.

"As stupid as that sounds I need to study and since all the books in the library will be screaming I think I'll go to my dorm, I'll see you guys later." I smiled at my friends, waving at them as I stood up.

They all said they're goodbyes in return as I walked out of the hall.

I could feel a familiar Slytherins eyes on me as I left, slowing my pace down in the corridor as I heard the same familiar footsteps approaching me.

"Guess who?" He said from behind me with a chuckle, covering my eyes with his hands.

"Judging from this very shaky blindfold I'm gonna guess Regulus." I said with a laugh, turning around to face the smiling boy.

His hair was still messy despite his obvious efforts to style it, he grinned at me with that stupid lopsided smile you wouldn't expect from him if you were anyone else passing him in the corridor. A stern unemotional expression usually painting his face if he was around anyone else.

My relationship with Regulus started a few months ago when he caught me on the verge of throwing a book at some seventh years who were laughing at me over something so stupid I can't even remember what it was anymore.

He'd told them to piss off and then sat next to me, we spoke for a bit and despite my efforts to brush him off due to Sirius's warnings I couldn't help but be encapsulated by him.

Next thing I knew we were having secret meetings in empty dorms and broom closets.

"How's my favourite girl?" He asked, planting a small kiss on my forehead.

I swatted him away, taking a step to the side. I began walking again, him following close behind.

"What're you doing, someone could've saw." I said with a roll of my eyes, looking for a quite corner or broom cupboard we could duck into to talk.

"Why do you care, we have every right to speak to each other." He said with a groan, he'd been fed up of the secrecy for a while.

He was a private person, and it wasn't like he was looking for a relationship with heavy PDA but the secrecy was beginning to bother Regulus. Just the other day the head of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team asked me on a date to Hogsmead and Regulus just stood there biting his tongue as this guy just continued to flirt out of the excuses I was giving him.

He just wants people to know we are in a relationship, or at least see us together so often they don't bother asking.

But I wouldn't even let him speak to me in public.

"No we don't. I just think spent breakfast getting lectured about walking with Evan. I still haven't lived down when James saw me laugh at a joke Barty made the other week, and that's because they're friends with you. It would cause a war if James and Sirius found out we were together." I frowned at him as we slipped into a quiet corner of the castle.

He stood as close to me as he could and I found myself looking around to check no one was looking.

He put his finger under my chin, tilting my head up to look at him, taking all my attention away from worrying and onto him.

"I know your worried but I couldn't care less. What're you so scared of? James is your brother he's not going to hate you." He brushed a piece of hair out of my face and behind my ear as he spoke, leaving his hand to linger on the side of my face.

"Sirius is your brother and he seems to hate you." He frowned at that, taking his hand away and stepping back.

I quickly realised what I said, reaching out for his hand and pulling him close to me again.

"I'm sorry, that was mean. I didn't mean that. I just mean me and James have always been so close and I don't want that to change. I love him so much and I love Sirius and Remus and Peter so much as well. I can't loose them over something like this. But I can't loose you either, so if keeping this a secret is the only way I can keep all of you that's what I want to do." I gave him a small smile, holding my breath as I waited for him to respond, hoping he'd just drop the whole conversation.

"Okay I understand. More dates in broom cupboards it is." His hand returned to my face and I giggled lightly.

I looked up at his face with a smile taking in everything about him as I did so.

He was just so perfect I couldn't understand how anybody could hate him.

He leant down to plant a soft kiss on my lips, leaving me breathless despite the chasteness of it.

I smiled at him completely entranced by how amazing he was.

"What the fuck."

Sirius voice made me jump, pulling me out of the daydream I was in as I moved away from Regulus, trying to come up with some sort of explanation.

"Sirius I can explain."

"Explain what? Explain how your kissing my brother? Explain how your betraying me, one of your closest friends? Sure Y/n I'd love a fucking explanation." He glared at me with a look I'd never really seen from him before.

Betrayal.

"I just,,, Sirius." I couldn't think of an excuse, I looked between the two brothers as I weighed my options. I didn't have many "Sirius I love him. Please just let me love him. Don't be angry or turn it into something, please don't bring James into this. Please." I looked at him with pleading eyes as I felt Regulus's hand touch my shoulder comfortingly.

"Take your fucking hand off her." Sirius said with a glare, causing Regulus to back away from me. "How could you do this to me, to James. He cares about you so much he's trying to protect you from people like him. But I guess we were wrong you really are just a snake."

His words stung as I just looked at him speechless.

"Don't speak to her like that, none of this is her fault. What happens between me and you is between me and you, not her." Regulus said, stepping up to his brother.

"You don't get to talk to me like that, your the one in the wrong here not me. That's the way it always is." Sirius said, glaring daggers at him before giving me another hurt look and turning to walk away.

"Your the one who left me! Not the other way around." Regulus said, voice cracking at the end of his sentence.

Sirius stopped for a second before continuing to storm off without turning back around.

~~~

The next morning I walked to breakfast with Barty and Evan on my one side and Regulus on my other, holding my hand with a small smile.

Despite the drama of yesterday and the sinking feeling I had all night the weight of the secret had been lifted off both of our chests and it was nice to be able to be together in public without worrying.

I glanced over at the Gryffindor table, hoping to take my usual seat.

I saw the eyes of mine and Regulus's brother staring at me with daggers. I went to take a step towards them, dropping Regulus's hand but Sirius took the book that Remus was reading and slammed it into the empty seat next to him. Earning an annoyed and disapproving look from Remus who then looked up at me with a supportive smile.

I offered him a small smile back before sighing at the other boy's behaviour.

Regulus noticed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, leading me over to the Slytherin table.

I focused my attention back on my friends as Barty continued telling some crude joke, trying to cheer me up a little.

~~~

"I'm sure they'll come around. He's your brother, he loves you." Regulus said whilst running a hand through my hair.

We were cuddling on the floor of a study room in the library, surrounded by books as we chatted and helped each other with potions homework.

"It's been three weeks and the only one of them that's spoken to me is Remus and that's only when we bump into each other. James is avoiding me like the plague, Sirius looks like he's about to kill me and Peters afraid to talk to me as if he'll get excommunicated as well if he does." I sighed, scribbling the notes I was writing out since I'd gotten distracted and lost what I was trying to write.

"They're just adjusting, this is new information they just need time." He kissed my forehead before leaning down to kiss my lips properly, causing me to smile again.

A cough from the door broke us apart.

"Am I intruding?" He asked, leaning against the door frame with a frown.

"James! Hi, your speaking to me?" I said with a small smile, getting out of Regulus's hug and onto my feet, walking over to him.

Regulus looked back down at his book, pretending to study and not listen to the conversation.

"I figured we should talk, I think this is the longest we've ever been apart. I just wanted to clear the air I guess." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"I'm still beyond angry at you though, how could you date someone like him and not tell me." He said with a sigh, pinching his nose.

"Someone like him? I'm so fed up of you speaking about my friends and boyfriend like they're these evil people before you've even met them! He's a loving, caring, sweet boy who I love and who loves me. He just happens to come from a shitty family with shitty ideals. The exact same one your best friend comes from may I add. I'm sorry I kept this a secret from you, I was scared of what your reaction would be and obviously I had a right to be. But I will not apologise for being with him and loving him because I have every right to. I want nothing more than for us to be close again and to hang out like we were but if you can't deal with this then I'm sorry but I'm not going to break up with him over it, so it's you that's going to loose me." I watched his face, searching for some reaction but there wasn't one.

The room went silent for a second as James just stood there staring at me.

"Alright." He said, standing up straight and clearing his throat.

"Alright?"

"Alright. Your important to me, I can learn to get over it. No matter how gross it makes me feel."

I chuckled lightly and hugged him, feeling like a weight had been taken off my shoulders knowing we weren't fighting anymore.

"Are you going to introduce me to lover boy then?" He asked with a strained laugh.

He was trying his best.

#marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter #regulus black #regulus black x reader #x reader #fanfiction #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders era

[crypticreid]

KINKTOBER DAY FIVE

October 17 -- Breeding

masterlist

author's note: sorry this is so late. i came down with a little bug or something on sunday and was down all day monday too. but finally starting to feel better. this is shorter and not as edited as usual due to sickness. I've also switched out breeding with the planned prompt (squirting). that prompt will still happen, just later. thanks for reading <333

summary: You decide to revisit a previous conversation with Spencer and explore something new.

warnings: female reader, fingering, good girl usage, unprotected sex, dom!spencer, dirty talk

word count: 1.8k

this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!

“We need to talk,” you decide to just come out and say it. 

For the last week, you’ve been dropping hints to Spencer and waiting for him to understand what you are trying to say, but he hasn’t. The 187 IQ and the best profiling skills in the country didn’t do much when he was rather oblivious to subtleties. 

He’s sitting on the worn, well-loved couch of his apartment leisurely reading and finishing The Metamorphosis by Kafka for the millionth time, a pile of more books littering the coffee table in front of him.

“Spencer.” You say a little louder and he looks up from his book and smiles at you. 

“Hey, I didn't realize you were awake. Do you want breakfast?” 

“I need to talk to you,” you repeat yourself. 

He swallows nervously and you realize you might’ve taken a misstep in your delivery. “No, no it’s nothing bad.” You scramble to say and race over to the couch to sit beside him. The leather couch that you once jokingly said made you feel like you were in a psychiatrist’s office, creaks lightly as you position yourself so that you can face Spencer, your legs crossed in front of you. 

One of his hands reaches for one of yours and holds it, his thumb smoothing over your skin. “What do you need?” 

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. You weren’t nervous, but any sort of relatively serious conversation still made your stomach do little tiny flips. “Do you remember a couple months ago when we talked about… um,” you can feel yourself blushing. 

Spencer’s brows furrow and you can tell his mind is racing to try and remember any significant conversations the two of you have had. 

“In that hotel room.” You supply. 

He lets out a breath, “that doesn’t really help. We’re in hotels more than we’re at home.” 

You let out your own breath, frustrated at your inability to just come out and say what you want. You close your eyes and allow the words to spill forth, “when I wanted you to fuck me without a condom.” You squeeze your eyes in a grimace and then force them open. 

Spencer’s mouth is open, his cheeks pink and rosy. He blinks, closes his mouth, opens it, licks his bottom lip, and then shuts his mouth again. The hand holding yours tightens almost undetectably.  

“Spencer?” You whisper. 

He clears his throat, “I remember.” 

“Well, I’d like to revisit that conversation.” 

His back straightens, like he’s a professor who has just been asked to defend his entire life’s work. “Okay.” He nods, a few strands of errant hair falling across his forehead. You reach up and push the hair back into place. 

“Is that something you would be comfortable with?” You ask. 

“Having sex without protection?” He clarifies and you nod to confirm. He swallows and runs his free hand through his hair, clearly nervous. “I’ve never…” 

“I know.” You incline your head toward his and press a feather-light kiss to his lips and then sit back again. “We don’t have to if you don’t want, but –” 

“Is it something you want?” 

“Yes.” You squeeze his hand. 

“Do you want to get pregnant?” He asks point-blankly and it makes your stomach clench. You look away from his intense eye contact and you feel your body heat under his gaze. 

“No.” You say, which is the truth. “I’m still on birth control.” But you can’t help the way your body reacts to the idea. 

Spencer’s free hand reaches up and caresses your cheek, causing you to meet his eyes again. “I’m comfortable with it.” 

“Yeah?” 

He nods and you feel him guiding you closer to him. “Yeah,” he whispers right before your lips connect with his. You kiss him softly at first, trying to say a thousand words you didn’t have time to say through your kiss. He tells you just how much he loves you and you respond in kind. His hands have found their way to your hips, his thumbs brushing against your skin underneath your shirt and you feel your body immediately thrum to life. 

“I don’t want to be teased.” You say against his lips. He laughs, but instantly pulls back so he can take off your shirt. There are days that you spend hours with your bodies against each other, exploring, teasing, pleasuring. But you feel like you won’t last longer than fifteen minutes. You want him so bad. 

He pulls you onto his lap, his lips against one of your breasts, quickly pulling a nipple into his mouth. One of your hands grabs onto his shoulder, the other one tangles in his hair, pressing him against you, not allowing him to move. 

“Spencer, fuck.” You murmur and one of his hands slips into the band of your pajama pants. He gasps when he makes contact with your soaking center, but doesn’t waste any time before circling your clit. He lays kisses against your sternum, his jaw brushing against your skin, as he moves to your neglected tit. 

Your hold on him tightens when he perfectly times it as he takes your nipple between his teeth and plunges a finger into you. “I need you, please, Spencer.” You scramble to grind your hips against him, finding that delicious friction that you’re desperate for. 

“Do you want my cum, baby?” He asks, moving away from your breast, but still pressing his lips against any exposed skin he can find. 

Your hips falter only for a split second. This is new. A brand new exploration for the both of you, but you can’t deny how you push down harder on his finger and feel the heat at the base of your spine start to spread. You bite down on your bottom lip and nod. “Yeah, yeah. I want it.” 

“Then you’ve gotta do what I ask. Then you’ll get my cum like a good girl. Are you gonna be my good girl?” He pulls away from your skin completely and looks you in the eyes, you continue to push and grind yourself on his finger, but it isn’t enough. 

“Yes, yes. I’ll be – ah” you gasp as he adds a second finger. “Good girl.” You finish and he grabs your hip to stop your movement. 

“You’re gonna make yourself come with just my fingers, can you do that, baby?” You nod and feel yourself clench on him. He moves your hip for you, setting the pace and positions his hand inside you so that his palm grinds against your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck,” you moan and he inclines his head to nip at your neck. 

“That’s it, you’re doing such a good job. My good girl, aren’t you? So desperate for my cum.” 

You nod your head frantically, your breath and words coming out rapidly, “I am. I am.” 

He nips at your neck again, “I know you are.” He speeds up your hips. “I can tell you’re close, yeah, just keep doing that. So good.” He leans back to watch you fall apart on his fingers. 

He holds onto your hip tightly, guiding you through the blinding white pleasure coursing through you, as you moan his name. You jerk against him and he murmurs praise against your lips, kissing you and letting you rest against him. 

You pull away from him and reach between his body and your own and press a hand onto his rock hard bulge. He smirks. “I didn’t forget. That’s what you really want, isn’t it?” You nod and he’s pulling your pajama pants off of you and lifting his own hips to shed his pants as well. Your legs are on either side of his thighs and he trails his hands up your bare legs. But your eyes wander to his cock resting against him and you reach for him. 

“You’re sure?” He checks in with you one last time. 

“I want you so bad.” You grip his base and he tosses his head back with a moan. 

“I’m all yours, baby. Take me.” You guide him until you're hovering directly over his leaking head. He hisses at the simple contact with your wetness. “Keep going, don’t stop, please.” He mutters and you feel yourself clench at his words. You lower yourself completely on him, slowly, savoring the sensation. He leans his forehead against yours when he’s fully seated inside you. “You feel incredible.” 

You moan and grind against him, his hands flying to your hips, moving you against him again. As you move together, he starts to ramble. “If you want my cum, you're gonna have to work for it, love. That's it just like that. Fuck. Perfect. I can feel all of you. Every single inch of you. So tight. Yes, clench around me like that, squeeze me. I'll fill you up, baby, if you do that. Give you what you want. Get you pregnant.” 

You gasp and grind harder on him. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He mutters, biting at your shoulder. You nod, frenzied. “You want to be so full from me, yeah?” 

“Yes, yes, please.” He moves you faster, but your hips falter and stutter against him, losing your rhythm.

 “Come on, sweetheart. I thought you wanted me to come inside you.” 

You whimper, “I do. I do.” You try to find the pattern again, but you can’t because you’re too close. He groans against you and presses you against him. Suddenly, you're lying on your back on the couch, Spencer moving your legs so they wrap around his body and you pull him as close as possible to you. 

He’s impossibly slow at first, every single inch of him sliding into you and you arch up into him. Your hands grasp onto his shoulders and then scratch their way down his chest. “Please, Spencer.” 

He answers you by slamming into you. You lose your breath for a split second, but then relax into his steady pacing. He leans down to you, kissing you and muttering against your lips. “You’re gonna squeeze my cum out of me. It’s all yours, baby. I know you want it. Don’t you? You want all of it?” His thumb finds your clit and you come undone against him, just as he plunges into you and you feel him fill you. Your nails dig into his skin and he whimpers into the crook of your neck. As the two of you inch your way off the intense cliff of your pleasure, his hips slow and he pulls away from you. He lifts up and watches as he slowly pumps into you, fucking his come deeper into you. 

His eyes flick up to yours and he smiles and pulls out of you completely. He lays atop of you and kisses you deeply. His fingers trail across your cheek and into your hair. 

“We need a shower.” He laughs. You laugh with him. 

“And then food?” You ask. 

He makes a low sound of approval from his throat. “Sounds like a plan.” And kisses you again.

tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx @alicentswife

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #my writing

[bloompompom]

Safekeeping - Aftermath

the second part to safekeeping | read the first part here

After a proposition to lose your virginity to your brother’s best friend, it becomes difficult to move on once you’re away at college. Difficult for who? That's up for debate.

✧ content: ~9.4k word count. eren jaeger x female reader. modern/college au. upgraded from porn without plot to porn with feelings, older brother's friend trope, reader’s brother has a name, sappy af, mutual pining/getting together, oral sex (m!receiving), PIV sex, spit, praise, pussy job, alcohol use, explicit sexual content, explicit language, reader discretion advised. 18+ only. ✧ a/n: because they deserved a happy ending, didn't they?

You did it. Your first semester of college was officially over.

Actually, it ended roughly two weeks ago when your final grades were uploaded. Now, you were smack in the middle of winter break, left with no responsibilities other than lounging before your family’s fireplace. 

You were grateful, and it wasn’t just from the holiday spirit. You were overjoyed—and not to mention, relieved beyond belief—because college was everything you hoped it to be. It wasn’t exactly like the movies, of course, but it was damn near close. You got along well with your roommate, and for once in your life, your professors didn’t hold their grudges toward your brother against you because they didn’t have any.

And it just so happened that you were seeing someone. Something casual, no big deal.

You meant that earnestly. The guy wasn’t much to write home about, and he definitely wasn’t the one. He was just… there. 

It was fun, though! It had to be, or else you wouldn’t keep going back to him. You felt a connection right away—it was why you slept with him in the first place—but after your semi-regular hookups, it just sort of fizzled. It was fine. He was fine. 

Anyway, he hadn’t tried to reach out since you left, even once. You wanted it to hurt only because it felt like it should, but you couldn’t find it in you. Talking to him sounded less than appealing, if you were being honest. You much preferred to spend the better half of your days catnapping around a house much warmer than your dorm. The only person you bestowed your precious attention on was Hitch, your grade school bestie who was also visiting home. But that was about to change. 

After breakfast, your brother Collin came knocking at your bedroom door, creaking it open with just his knuckles. 

You peered up from your phone when he asked, “Got any plans later?”

“No,” you replied. He was giving you this weird look. Then he closed the door. “What’s the about?”

“I’m going to a party tonight. Wanna come?”

You looked from side to side because he had to be talking to someone else.

“Don’t be dumb.” He leaned against the wall like he planned to be there for a minute. “You’re old enough now. I’m sure you’ve gone to plenty at school, anyway.” 

You weren’t buying into the whole brotherly love schtick. You deadpanned, “Mom and Dad said you have to bring me wherever you’re going, right?” 

Collin’s shoulders slumped in that ‘you caught me’ sort of way. “I told them it was an ugly sweater party as a cover-up, and they bought it a little too well—said I have to take you if I want to go. They’re worried about you, all cooped up inside and—”

“Okay, I get it!” You didn’t need to hear that your parents thought you were a loser. There was nothing wrong with wanting some peace and quiet during your vacation. 

To really sell the lie, you needed ugly sweaters. Neither of you had thought that far ahead, and you had to go thrifting after your parents began pestering you about it. On the drive to the store, you told Collin he had to pay for yours since he forced you out, and he spent the ride home complaining that he should have simply snuck out and saved the money. 

“But then you’d have to cover for me, and I’d have to see your sad, lost-puppy eyes as you stayed in for another night,” he jested. You thumped his forehead. 

Hours later, the two of you were back in the same seats. Collin parked the car, and the overhead light cut through the pitch-black neighborhood. He unbuckled, then immediately yanked his knit sweater over his forehead.

“I’m not planning on coming home tonight obviously. I’m staying at Jean’s. What about you?”

“Hitch’s,” you answered, peeling off your own sweater and throwing it into the backseat. “She didn’t want to come, but she offered to give me a ride to her place to stay the night. I doubt I’ll stay long.” 

You stepped out of the car together. The doors slammed shut, and the sound echoed off the houses. 

“Sounds good. Just be sure to let me know when you leave,” he said. 

Collin parked a block or so away. On the walk, you started to overthink things. If Jean would be there, would Eren be there, too? You wanted to say it had been a while since you last thought of him, but that would be another lie you’d have to tally for the night. 

“So,” you drawled.  “Is Jean going to be here?”

Collin snorted. “Duh. It’s his house.”

He didn’t mention that earlier. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Past your stomach, like it had splat on the pavement. 

As fate would have it, you did see him at the party. Eren. Not immediately, but it might as well have been.

You had only drunk roughly three-quarters of a beer when you saw Eren, and it wasn’t nearly enough to dull the weird twirly feeling pitting in your stomach. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but it was a confusing one, that was for sure.

It wasn’t that you regretted what you had done, not in the slightest, but that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous to see him. How couldn’t you be? This was the first time you’d been in the same room since you had naively bared it all for him, looking about as pathetic in bed as a newborn faun taking its first steps.  

At the very least, you expected to see Eren the morning after—you actually dreaded it. You stayed in your bed, laid on pins and needles, staring at your ceiling until you could no longer. And even then, the basement remained silent.

They eventually emerged from their hibernations once the afternoon rolled around. Eren was nowhere to be found, as if he was suddenly the earlier riser of the group. You supposed it was less awkward this way. 

In that emotional cauldron you were brewing, the one that was close to boiling over, you felt a dash of jealousy. It was strange and unexpected, but now that you saw Eren cozied up with some girl, her legs draped over his lap… the feeling was certainly there. 

You hated it. Especially after your eyes lingered for too long, resulting in very brief, very fleeting eye contact between you. It was over and done with so fast that you didn’t even get a good look at his face. Was he surprised? Indifferent? It was only a guess at this point. But you—well, you made it entirely clear that you were avoiding him, what with the speedy way you spun on your heels to flee. It was a dead giveaway as to how you were feeling, whatever it was. 

You tossed back the rest of your beer, then went scouring for what was next. Your best bet was what appeared to be a thrown-together hot chocolate bar. Not the best option but certainly not the worst. The slow cooker, still halfway full, sat warming on the counter. Surrounding it were loose bottles of cream liquors and peppermint schnapps, torn-open bags of marshmallows, and whipped cream if you were feeling fancy. Very on-theme for tonight’s holiday party. 

In an attempt to look busy—keep your gaze low, hands moving—you headed that direction. 

You fiddled with a stack of styrofoam cups and pretended you weren’t overwhelmingly flustered by this unbeknownst feeling. You didn’t do a great job at it. Or at least, Eren didn’t think so. And unlike you, he had already come to terms with his feelings, but only because it had hit him more or less like a freight train. 

So let’s go ahead and recap what the last semester was like for Eren, shall we?

Becoming a third-year freed Eren from the required dormitories and roommates. He spent the tail end of his summer moving into an off-campus apartment. It wasn’t much—exactly what one would imagine when asked to envision an apartment with a down payment suited for a student’s budget. One-bedroom, one-bathroom, but it was all to himself. 

No different than any other twenty-something, Eren was excited to be on his own. He could see it already: no one to answer to, no one to schedule his life around. And definitely no weird-ass habits he’d have to deal with from a roommate—one he, to this day, couldn’t believe he matched with based on the school’s dumb quiz. He just had to wait out the summer until his lease began, and then his life would officially start.

The vision derailed, of course, just two weeks before he was handed the keys to his (self-proclaimed) bachelor pad. The reason? It was easy enough to guess.

Eren could deny it as much as he wanted, but it wouldn’t change that after fantasizing about his friend’s little sister for days, he selfishly prioritized his needs over his friendship and took her virginity. And in a cruel turn of events, he wound up with feelings for her. It seemed a bit like karma, didn’t it? 

From the very second his eyes snapped open the next morning, he convinced himself it was nothing more than a hot dream—albeit one that left him rattled. But when he ambled upstairs, he found his half-drunk glass of water, untouched, exactly where he recalled leaving it. 

Days passed, and Eren waited for that dreadful pang of remorse to smack him upside the head for what he had done—what the two of you chose to do together. It never came. Somehow, that felt so much worse.

Now, he had a secret large enough that if it came to light, he’d end up with a black eye from his best friend. Not that it wouldn’t be well-deserved. Even he could acknowledge that. But he was far from guilt-ridden over it. The only thing he regretted was that he hadn’t spoken to you since. He never talked to you much to begin with—he didn’t even have your phone number—so it’d be weird of him to start now, right?

Eren didn’t know what was the right thing to do, so he defaulted to doing nothing. It didn’t feel like there was any right option, like he had already made too many wrongs to turn back now. 

His worst offense? To him, it was that he still thought of you when he was, for lack of better words, alone. But that was the only time!

That was how he justified it: he’d only allow his memories of you, though painfully limited, to seep to the forefront then and only then. It was a half-assed boundary at most, Eren knew as much, and it was so wrong of him. You trusted him, you told him that yourself, and here he was, shamefully fucking his fist to nothing more than a mirage because that was all you had left him.

He’d think of your sweet sounds. Those little, fluttering breaths would escape you as a shiver no matter where he touched you. Sensitive and soft and warm beneath his palms, he’d replay the moment you first tried to take him on your own. Lowering yourself onto him, Eren could see you shifting your hips as you learned how to take him, all of him, best. Past lulled and heavy eyelids, you were intent on getting yourself off, no matter what it took. And when you got there—fuck, he wished he could see it again. He wanted to feel it again, something his hand could never replicate. 

After, you never went away. That was when Eren knew he was in trouble. When you were no longer a perverted fantasy but still at his side when he’d close his eyes. No longer fucking but basking in the afterglow of it together. Your arm slung around his waist, your balmy cheek resting against his chest. Tangled sheets, kisses pressed to your forehead, bodies sheened and sticky with sweat—all of it. 

This went much deeper than merely offering a helping hand to someone in need before she left for college. Eren did the favor of scratching your back, but what you didn’t realize was that you had scratched his, too. The one itch he couldn’t reach. He still bore the scars of it. 

You had him in a chokehold, and you didn’t even know it. A very, very complicated chokehold at that. Eren couldn’t believe he had caught feelings for you, his best friend’s little sister! But now he was peeking at—no, who was he kidding? He was religiously checking your Instagram stories.

By the look of it, there was finally some action in that love life of yours. You were never explicit about it, sharing no more than a picture of his hand on your thigh or a strategically-snapped photo of your cocktail with the mystery man’s face reduced to a background blur. The subtle art of a soft launch. It told Eren enough. 

So when he noticed how your eyes sprung to the size of saucers when you saw him across the party, he was intrigued. Eren didn’t know when he’d bump into you next, but he often wondered how you’d react. And when you scurried off like a mouse, excitement sparked within him, even if it was at your expense. He needed to know then if you still thought about him—what he did to you, and you to him—despite being with someone else. 

He quickly decided there wasn’t any harm in approaching you to say—

“Hey.”

Eren interrupted you just as you attempted to serve yourself hot cocoa. You nearly dropped the ladle when you heard his voice over your shoulder.

You faltered as you piped back a ‘hi’ but smiled through it only because you realized he came looking for you. 

“Need some help?” He offered you a smile laced with pity. You followed his eyes to find yourself pouring hot chocolate onto your wrist. You didn’t feel the string of it until then.

You cursed but thanked him when he took your cup. Since it was apparent you needed his help, Eren started making your drink as you searched for some paper towels.

“What alcohol didya want?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead,” you admitted, nodding toward cocoa-coated hands. “Clearly.”

His mouth curled up at that but nothing more. He didn’t leave any time for your embarrassment to simmer before he replied, “Then I’ll fix you what I made myself.

By the time you were dry and the remnants of your mess were forgotten in the trash can, Eren had mixed your drink and extended it to you. You thanked him for it and took a sip. It was sweet on the tip of your tongue, enough to comfort the burn of liquor that tickled from your throat and down your stomach. 

You smiled at him, the kind that made your eyes crinkle. “Cream and peppermint liquor. Good choice.”

“I thought so,” Eren beamed briefly before adding, “Oh—almost forgot.”

He reached for the can of whipped cream, locking his eyes to yours as he angled the nozzle toward your face.

“Open up.”

His smirk was like a wordless language that only you understood. He told you he remembered it—in fact, he even still thought about it—and he wanted to know if you did, too.

You opened your mouth. 

A laugh bubbled through you before the cream even met your tongue. Eren’s laugh joined yours when half made it into your mouth. The rest landed on the corner of your lips, daring to spill down your chin. After you thumbed it into your mouth, Eren surprised you by dotting your nose with it, too. 

You weren’t stupid; you knew how this looked because it was exactly as it appeared. The action toed the border between playfulness and something more—something that wasn’t entirely uncharted, given your history, but just as forbidden. You would have cared more if anyone was paying you any mind. And if someone important—Collin, Jean… hopefully the list ended there—were to see, you were convinced you could wisely play it off as a joke. 

You never expected your next run-in with Eren to go like this. You hoped for it, the shameless flirting, but it was more likely that he’d avoid you like the plague. You convinced yourself of it. You moved on from that ephemeral night, began to see other people, and let your dead-end crush fade away. 

No, you didn’t expect this at all. And even if you had, you wouldn’t have imagined it quite like this, with every fiber of your being tightened and set ablaze. And when you laid a hand on Eren’s arm, catching yourself in a fit of giggles, it tightened in reflex, like he felt the burning, too. 

You hurdled through the pleasantries even though they weren’t necessary, considering Eren had sex with you off little more than a single conversation last time. In an act of modesty, you were sure, he didn’t directly ask if you were single but instead teased you about Fabio again—asked if you had met anyone that compared. 

You hadn’t. The guy you were ‘dating’ was far from your dream man, even to the extent that you had already considered how you’d end it when—if you ever heard from him again. 

But Eren didn’t need to know that. You rolled your eyes at the lame joke, offhandedly saying, “I’m sort of seeing someone.”

It piqued his interest, discernible by his raised brow. Either that, or he saw right through you. He leaned into you, close. You wanted to check if Collin was near, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

“Oh, yeah?” He tilted his head and repeated, “‘Sort of.’ What does that mean?”

You sensed he wanted you to spell it out for him, the dirty details of it, but you hummed, “You know, hookups, the occasional dinner—not exclusive.” 

Whether or not he detected the hint at the end, your answer didn’t seem to suffice. “Is that what you want?”

You swirled your drink, took another sip, and suppressed your shiver. “I’m still figuring out what I want.”

The next thing you knew, Eren had snuck you upstairs. For obvious reasons, you had never been to Jean’s house; you had not a clue whose bedroom Eren had chosen for the two of you. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t distinguish much under the tawny lights strung around the room, but that was far from your first priority. What mattered more was that no one saw you slip away with Eren. It was no big deal that you were about to have sex with your brother’s best friend on their other best friend’s bed, right? 

Fuck it. Quite literally.

You shoved the thought to the back of your head much like the way Eren shoved you against the door as he kissed you. He kept one hand cupped around your face and used his other to lock the door behind you. The moment the click of it hit your ears, he pushed a hand between your legs. 

You weren’t going to talk about it, the rather large elephant lurking in the room. That Eren offered to take your virginity much like a business proposition, and you agreed to sex that was supposed to feel just as transactional. But the reality of it was that you hadn’t stopped thinking about that night ever since. Neither of you had, so you’d go on and pretend like it never ended. 

He palmed over the crotch of your jeans, teasing you before reaching for their button. You indirectly made him work for him, keeping him close with your arms looped around his neck—close enough that your noses were smushed together.

Eren struggled with the zipper next, less focused on it and more distracted by your teeth, gently tugging on his bottom lip. He groaned, and it spilled into your mouth like honey.

You broke the kiss, hands flinging to your sides to slip from your jeans. You bent at the waist, eyes fixed up at Eren, as you wiggled them down your legs. Noting the deep rise and fall of his shoulders, you felt a similar stutter in your own. 

He confessed he didn’t have a condom. You told him you were on birth control now, and that was enough for you both to continue—so long as he pulled out, you reminded. He agreed by hooking your leg around his waist. You swung the other to match, locking your ankles against his lower back, and let him carry you to the bed. 

Eren navigated to the bed with suspicious ease. He walked backward, lips still on yours, like he knew the room’s layout and where the bed was. You wanted to wince at the realization—that the likelihood this bedroom belonged to Jean had skyrocketed—but you forgot it just as fast when Eren sat on the edge of the mattress, pulling you down with him.

You straddled his lap with hands on either side of his face, your tongue in his mouth and against his own. He still tasted like peppermint schnapps. Burned like it, too.

He rucked up your shirt as his hands smoothed along your back. You’d think his fingers were made of matches, scorching trails whenever they roamed. You gasped when he dared low enough to grab your ass, pinching at the fat of it. Your thin underwear bunched in his grasp, dragging along your skin with him. 

Eren pinned you to him, working you over the front of his jeans. Back and forth, your hips on a swivel, he used you to get himself hard, only stopping to smear his palms on his jeans when you’d start to slip from his grasp. It didn’t take long before you felt him, stiff and nicely pressed between your legs. 

When you started to grind against him, demandingly and all on your own, the kiss went sloppy. Though the plush of your lips brushed together, it was less like making out and more like swapping breaths. Like a warm fog swirling around you, you grew dizzy off it. Eventually, one of you would have to come up for air.

You pulled away right as he sat back. You’d call it harmonious, but that would make it sound graceful. Each of you fumbled to get your shirt over your head, and it cascaded into a tangle of limbs and clumsy laughs. You reached for the hem of his T-shirt next. You’d hate to be the only one in your underwear.

You didn’t see them but felt the tight muscles of his chest. They didn’t give under your touch, even as you flattened a hand against him. He picked up on the hint, that you wanted him to lay back, and you moved together. He pushed himself further back on the bed, you following in a feline-like prowl above him, until he rested against the pillows. 

It was a new side to you—at least, one that Eren hadn’t seen yet—and he already craved more. You were no longer shy, not in the way he remembered, but entirely disinhibited with this, dare Eren say, beyond turned-on look on your face. Glassy eyes, kiss-swollen lips, and the cherry on top: that devilish smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. 

He could only gawk as you pressed your smile to his sternum, then a bit lower. Then even lower than that. Your lips skimmed over the smooth skin of his hip bone, tickling him, smacking him with the realization of how dangerously low you were. Every muscle in his body tightened, his cock throbbing to be touched. 

Only a tad bit desperate—he’d call it enthusiasm—Eren snaked his hand down to undo his belt. Once it was off, you helped him out of his jeans, working them and his boxers down his legs. You settled between. 

Eren was so kind to you the first time, so exceedingly gentle; the least you could do was give him the chance to see what you’d learned since. 

You placed a hand on the top of his thigh. Already, it flexed. You slid it higher, merely palming over his cock at your leisure—not his. He chewed on his inner lip in anticipation, fighting the impulse to rut against your hand. He wasn’t prepared to look that pathetic, even if he felt that way watching you wet your lips. He knew what was coming next, and if he had any air in his lungs, he would have whined at the sight. 

When you finally brought your mouth to the tip of his cock, he sucked in a breath. That was all it took, just a swipe of your tongue; you didn’t even have to take him past your lips. Wanting to pull another noise from him, you did it a second time, licking him from base to tip, agonizingly slow.

You knew what he wanted. You could see it plainly on his face: Just put it in your mouth already! Anything, please! But instead of flinging a hand to the back of your head, he gripped the sheets. He let you tease him despite that it wasn’t the time or place for it. Outside the door, there was far-off music. It was indistinct, buzzing behind heavy footsteps and creaking floorboards and laughter—the usual party rumblings. It was as ambient to Eren as white noise, no greater than a low drone. He could only concentrate on suppressing his desire to ruin you—as if he hadn’t done so already. But before he could do that, you needed to show him how much you could take.

So you did just that. Inch by inch. 

Eren’s abdominals clenched as more of him disappeared past your lips. Your mouth, wet and oh-so warm, was tight. Intentionally so as you wrapped your lips around him with hollowed cheeks. You found a comfortable, steady pace, bobbing your head over his length. You only paused to gather your saliva, allowing it to pool behind your front teeth. Unabashedly, Eren watched. 

It was a sight so incredibly pornographic yet one he found undeniably adorable. Your little expressions had him smitten—how you pursed and puckered your lips before finally spitting. It dribbled from your bottom lip in a lewd string connecting you to him. You let out an uncomfortable giggle, then snapped it with a swipe of your thumb.

He’d say you officially had him wrapped around your pinky finger now—as if he hadn’t been pretending that wasn’t already the case for months.

Up and down, your hand spread the saliva over his length with little resistance. After a moment, you returned your mouth to him, and the little rasp of a moan he let slip caught your attention. Through tear-damp lashes, you found his eyes keen on you, his jaw slightly slack in what you’d only describe as awe. 

The buttery lights warmed the side of his face, glinting like fire behind his eyes. You studied every part of his face, from the twitch of his brow when you’d lap your tongue along the underside of his shaft to how his nose would scrunch when you’d swirl around the tip. You wanted to learn exactly what made him feel good so you could do it over and over again, as he had with you.

Eren wrestled himself on whether he should let you continue or not. He didn’t want to stop you, dutifully attempting to take all of him without choking, it was just that he had a better idea in mind.

He sat up enough to guide you to his side with both hands. You could tell he was trying to be smug, but his voice sounded taken as he told you, “Looks like whoever you were with must have been a real amateur.” 

Eren had you perpendicular to him now but still bent over so you could keep on as you were. 

“Or just selfish,” he added. His hand stroked down your spine and over the curve of your ass. He reached between your legs and pushed your panties aside to make room for him. “Because this way, I can touch you, too.”

You moaned when his fingers traced over your slit. He used the pads of them to circle your clit and didn’t falter even as you wiggled back against his hand. With his free hand, he cupped your face, gently encouraging you to pick up from where you had left off. You were more than willing. 

He dipped a finger inside you. On impulse, he jerked deeper into your throat when he felt you flutter around the intrusion, as if he could feel it in his cock. Every whimper he’d coax from you sounded even sweeter when muffled.

“Not to mention, he must be a fucking idiot to miss out on this.” Eren’s voice was a murmur up until the end. Then it was a hiss. “Because I bet you look real pretty coming with your mouth full.” 

He spoke to you softly, the timbre of his voice a warm hum, yet his confidence was palpable. The back of your neck burned.

Though you clung to it like a shield, your strength began to waver. It was evident by the quiver in your thighs every time he’d slip from you, fingers dripping, to play with your clit. Every time, you followed it with another strangled whimper. Each was like a gift to Eren.

He had brought you to the brink of becoming undone. All the while, he watched contently, head drooped to his shoulder and everything. He felt the tiny huffs from your nose fan over his pelvis as you sputtered around his cock. Your arm would wobble, elbow threatening to give out, as you struggled to focus on him and your orgasm, impending and fogging your senses. You had forgotten how wonderful another person could make you feel, and this was just his fingers. 

Eren was a bit of an anomaly; it only took you a few encounters to conclude such. Not everyone was talented with their fingers or their tongues or their—the list could go on, really. But it was more than deftness alone. Eren actually wanted to make you come, and by the look of it, he was just as needy for it as you were. And you were right there, the heat of it winding in your stomach until your entire being gained a pulse of its own. 

You came with Eren’s cock in your mouth. It overtook you in a glow, burning you from the inside out in a series of little explosions. You dug your nails into his thigh. Your other hand, though shaky, was still around the base of him. You were hardly conscious of how you squeezed him, but he didn’t even feel it. He was more enraptured by the way your throat tightened around him as you choked through your orgasm.

Past the thick thrumming in your ears, you heard how much Eren enjoyed that lovely little mouth of yours—how much he enjoyed using it.

Thunder emitted low from his chest as he rolled his hips, meeting you halfway to ensure every bow of your head was punctuated by another squeak of the mattress and his tip bumped against the back of your throat. He was as delicate as could be while fucking your mouth, yet tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. They welled up and threatened to drip down your cheek, teasing him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It tumbled from Eren’s mouth in a ragged chant. His head was thrown back into the stack of pillows, but he fought to steal a glimpse of you before your knees buckled beneath you. “Look at you. You’re fucking perfect.”

Your heart skipped. 

You liked that you were the reason for his pleasure—the reason his cheeks bore a flush, and why he could no longer hold himself back. Seconds ago, you had set a scene just as vulgar, helplessly grinding against his hand in a chase for your own high. And now that he was just as swept up in it, he could no longer pretend he had dreamt only of fucking you gently.

There was no way Eren could finish before he had the chance to get started. He regrettably pulled out from your mouth with a spitty pop.

You were still panting when you traded positions. Eren laid you back on the bed, gazing down to trace over the features of your face. He petted the side of it when he said, “You did so good.”

He kissed every spot he touched. Your cheekbone, the lobe of your ear, then the dip below it. You felt each one at the base of your spine.

“Talk to me.” Eren nuzzled the words in the nook of your jaw, breathed them over your skin, sensitive and already tacky from your swelter. His tongue and teeth grazed down the column of your neck. “Tell me what you want.”

There wasn’t any air behind your voice, nothing to carry it when you tried to reply, “Take off my underwear. Please.”

You went to raise your hips for him, but your legs had long turned to mush. There was an unmistakable tremble to them as Eren shimmied off your underwear. You placed a leg on either side of him, spreading yourself and welcoming him between. His eyes, alert as a hawk’s, widened before falling exactly where one would predict. Then he swallowed hard. 

He was faced with the task of taking all of you in, as if it were even possible. You followed the tips of his fingers as he trailed them up your curves with a butterfly’s touch. He toyed with the strap of your bra, now wilted off your shoulder and dangling at your arms. With a quick tug, he had your breasts popped over the cups.

Eren licked his lips. “God, you’re—”

He eagerly crashed to your chest, right between your tits. He didn’t intend to cut himself off, but he decided it was probably for the best; he wasn’t sure what he was about to spout out, anyway. 

You were just as sensitive as he remembered, unable to keep still as his large hands squeezed at your breasts, kissing and nipping and licking every inch of the delicate skin. When his mouth was latched to one, flicking his tongue at your perked nipple, he’d continue playing with the other, rolling his thumb over it. 

As though you could possibly drift away, you anchored yourself to Eren. You raked a hand through his hair, fingering through the lank strands that escaped his tie and hung loose. Before you could screw it up any further, you flinched when you heard voices booming on the other side of the wall. Your entire body froze as you glanced over to the door. 

Either Eren didn’t hear it or if he was only pretending he didn’t. His hold on you was steadfast as he covered your body in kisses—that is, until the handle jiggled. He tore away then to follow your line of sight. 

You waited for something to happen. Anything. Like the knob to rattle again, or a pound that would shake the door. Maybe someone would kick it down—you didn’t know! But the only sound between you was the thumping of your heartbeat against Eren’s.

Whoever it was, they must have wanted the room for the very same reason you and Eren did because, after a minute passed, you believed they had left. The groan of the floorboards grew distant as another hot and bothered pair continued their search for a vacancy. 

You brought Eren back to you by lightly taking him by the forearm. You were unable to wrap your fingers around the entirety of it but managed to pull him in, anyway. At the same time, you dug your heels into the mattress and scooted closer to him.

“I want you,” you quietly confessed. You lifted your hips, angling them in an attempt to meet his cock. 

Eren needed to convince himself this was real—that you were real. You hardly gave him the time to before you hitched a leg around his waist. He collapsed over you, caging you between his forearms. His eyes had darkened, brows sitting lowly above them in that drunken, determined look of lust. 

He kissed you. The corner of your mouth first, then fully on your lips. Between your legs, you felt him brush against you, throbbing. His tongue parted your lips, slipping past them the moment he pushed inside you. 

It stole your breath. Though your mouth was agape, a tiny ‘o’ against his, not a sound left you. He slipped out of you, then filled you again. Your breath returned in the form of a moan. He did this a few more times, deeper with each tilt of his hips, fucking you languidly, just to see if you could take it before he bottomed out.

Eren straightened out. “You okay?”

You gazed up at him and watched his lips curve into a soft smile when you whispered, “More than.” 

Then you watched it melt away once you wiggled against him, encouraging him, asking for—no, taking more of him. As though he had been waiting on you, he finally pushed deeper until he was flush against you.

You realized Eren’s composure was an act because it much snapped like a rubber band. You caught his inhale, through his nose and sharp in your ear. His head dropped on his exhale, and you felt it vibrate through you. He thrust into you a few more times, adjusting to you, while tiny grunts played at your ears. 

Keeping in mind your whereabouts, you expected this to be a quickie. But before you knew it, you were having the type of sex that wasn’t meant for a friend’s bed. It became pounding hips, so intense—so fucking good—that you heard Eren’s hand hit the headboard with a smack, gripping the top of it for support. It was erratic kisses. Ones that were messy and missed but would catch another part of the face, like the bow of your lip or dip in his chin; gasping and stealing damp breaths from one another in a bedroom growing headier by the second.

Lest he wished to come now and completely ruin everything, Eren had to pump the breaks. He sat back onto his calves and shoved a hand through his hair, sweeping it away from his face. His chest looked heavy, yet his arms remained sturdy as he cradled your hips. He fucked you slowly, mesmerized by the sight of him burying inside you—how well you took him—again and again. 

Flustered, you tried to remember how to breathe, but Eren made it difficult with his lazy eyes and an even lazier smile. 

You felt your whole body react when he placed a hand at the base of your neck. You were silk beneath his touch, from the dip between your chest, down to your navel. He traced along the side of your body and the swells of your breasts, then repeated it.

Eren had known you for years, but he didn’t know you—not like that. But he knew enough to say he liked you. And he was sure he’d only grow to like you more—a lot more.

He couldn’t wait to get there, to know everything there was to learn about you. Your birthday, your favorite food, what you liked to do on a rainy day—hell, he wanted to know what superpower you’d choose if presented with the option. He wanted every detail of it, and that had to mean something. 

Eren grabbed your hand. He held it against his face and kissed the inside of your wrist. 

“You’re so soft,” he told you, voice pitched low and spoken into your skin. 

The only coherent thought you had was how desperately you needed him again. You yanked him forward until his mouth was back on yours, where it belonged. Taking your open mouth as an invitation, he sucked your tongue lightly. You felt a frisson of heat beneath your skin, but it prickled like a chill.

“Eren. More,” you pleaded, your voice lost somewhere in his mouth. 

You twisted beneath him. Eren pulled out and watched as you rolled to your stomach, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. You could only glimpse over your shoulder, but it was enough to see that his eyes were trained on you.

Suddenly hot under his gaze, you rushed to add, “Only if you want to.”

Whether it was intentional or Eren was just seeing things, he swore you arched your back as you said it, ass in the air like it was an offering. 

Of course he wanted to. He wanted to so badly that he nearly couldn’t get the words out. From his mumbling, you could only make out, “You have no fucking idea.”

Eren had to kiss you then, everywhere that he could reach. Your lower back and then the valley of it next. He kissed a path between your legs. With his hands on your ass, he spread you, luring a squeal from you when he licked a stripe through your pussy. 

He stood tall on his knees, kicked your legs apart, and plunged inside you with a swift swing of his hips. You let out an indulgent moan, your hands clawing fists into the pillows. With the fingers digging into the dough of your sides, he worked you over his cock. 

“You feel so fucking good,” Eren panted, almost like a laugh, as if he was in disbelief. He wanted to say he had forgotten how wonderful you felt, almost like you were made for him, but how could he forget? He had only been longing for it. 

“Fuck,” you whined under your breath.

You didn’t see it, your head had dropped between your shoulders, but Eren smirked. 

“You like when I talk to you, don’t you?”

He watched how your back arched deeper before you answered, babbling, “Yes, yes—oh fuck, yes.”

There was little else on your mind other than how close you were to coming for the second time. Absolutely desperate for it, you bounced back against Eren’s thrusts. He cursed through gritted teeth, watching you sink back onto his cock. His hand snaked between your legs in search of your clit. He began rubbing tight circles that you felt in your toes. 

You squeaked out a small, breathless sound as your body tightened.

With a voice like gravel, Eren hummed, “There you go.”

He fucked you through it. His hips never lost their pacing, and the rhythm of his fingers was resolute even as you twitched below him. It wasn’t until you heard him grunt, “I can feel it—shit, I can feel you coming—you’re so tight,” that he began to strain.

With a cheek smushed into the sheets, your moans were choppy until they sputtered into one last sigh. You went slack in Eren’s grasp.

He slipped an arm beneath you before you could crumble to the bed, holding you close enough that he could feel your rabid pulse against his arm. Eren folded over you, lazily rutting into you. You felt his weight atop you, the words he etched into the nape of your neck when murmured, “I wanna be with you.”

Blame it on the orgasm, but for whatever reason, it didn’t register with you. Be with you—wasn’t that what was happening right now?

His hand scooped your chin, angling your face to kiss your temple.

“Come back to my place.” Eren ghosted his lips over your ear. “I wanna be with you tonight, like I should have the first time.” 

You could only assume the blood had left your head by now. Your eyes fluttered shut. You were as malleable as putty; you’d agree to just about anything at that moment—if you could. Hazy off all those feel-good hormones, you couldn’t manage a nod as your body rocked with his. After a few more jerks of his hips, he pulled out.

He didn’t come but flipped you onto your back. You slumped into the pillows willingly, your legs falling at your sides so Eren could nestle between. He didn’t enter you again but laid his cock against you, nice and slick for him, and spread you with it. He held himself there with a flattened palm and fucked between you. Wrecked and tortuously sensitive, the head of his cock bumping your clit had you spinning to the point of seeing stars.

Eren’s eyes snapped shut as he focused on your blissful purrs below him. He was already close; it only took another stutter of his hips before he threw his head back and came across your stomach, some of it spurting as high as your tits and neck. The muscles of his arms flexed, the veins of them chiseled and defined, as he held you there, soft and pliant for him.

He was still breathing hard when he stilled. He flexed his fingers, stretching out an ironclad grasp, as he sat back on his heels.

“Fuck, what a mess.” Eren croaked a chuckle. “Sorry.” 

He stood and poked around the room a bit before locating a tissue box on the dresser. It skipped through your mind to ask if this was Jean’s room, but you decided it was best you didn’t know. 

Eren gave you some tissues before taking his handful to wipe you clean. Despite your attempts at controlling it, you were visibly trembling. He must have noticed because he didn’t rush to dress but flopped beside you, even if he claimed it was because he was too hot to put his shirt back on. 

You lolled your head to the side to look at him. Dew painted the edges of his face, catching what little light was there and defining the structure. 

You shared a look, let it linger between you. It was unreadable. A face of shock—one you surely mirrored, and yet comfort lapped at you like tropical waves. The two emotions, together in stark contrast, could be summarized with a simple, ‘It’s you.’ 

Said once through a heavy sigh, like the realization that you were only startled by a friend around the corner.

Said twice with your jaw cartoonishly dropped to the floor when you realized who you had sex with again—the prickle of surprise when you rouse from your dream only to find them naked at your side.

Eren patted the top of your thigh before heaving himself upright. Time to go.

You quickly dressed and straightened out as much as possible, double-checking that no one’s clothes were on backward. Eren was fixing his hair in the mirror when he asked, “You ready to get out of here?”

“You were serious?” you questioned—nicely, of course. You figured it was only a heat-of-the-moment sort of deal.

He caught your eye in the reflection. “I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t serious.” 

It slipped from his tongue easily. It sounded natural, no different than fact, as he told you what he wanted—you. The words were weighty, dragging your woozy head back down to Earth. They sobered you up like a splash of ice water to the face. 

You didn’t have any desire to return to the party. There was no way either of you could continue on as though nothing happened. Someone would catch on. Besides that, you didn’t want to pretend any longer; you were much more interested in seeing where the rest of the night would take you—where Eren would take you. 

You plotted your exit well enough that Eren was waiting on your ride outside by the time you were sneaking out. You had texted Collin that you were leaving and took his lack of reply as a good sign. You gave Hitch a half-truth—told her you were going home with someone but didn’t specify who. 

Eren’s apartment was nice, neat. Still exceptionally new and hardly lived in. Then again, he didn’t fit the type to go full throttle into interior decorating. 

He immediately pointed out the bathroom because you had complained you felt gross during the drive. There, you rummaged around a bit before you found his face wash in the shower. You freshened up as much as you could, stealing a swig of mouthwash to rid the syrupy taste of liquor from your teeth. 

Eren knocked at the door. You spat into the sink, wiped your mouth, and peeked out.

“Thought you might want these,” Eren said, offering what appeared to be clothes much comfier than your own, folded and stacked in his hands. 

You thanked him, inspecting them once he left you to change. You decided on just the T-shirt; it covered enough. There was no use in hiding now, and it certainly wasn’t worth risking tripping over the legs of his sweatpants.

Though you were practically tip-toeing, Eren heard you the second you walked into the kitchen. He stepped out from behind the refrigerator door dressed in just a pair of shorts, no shirt. You held your breath when he smiled at you, ever so lopsidedly that you found it cute. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” he said like an admission, with a sheepish laugh and all. 

Your giggle was just as lighthearted, smiling when you replied, “I am, too.”

He neared you in a step with ardor sparkling through his eyes. With hands closed around your waist, he scooped you up and plopped you onto the counter. 

You yelped when its chill hit the backs of your thighs. You made yourself comfortable, sitting happily and with dangling feet, as you watched Eren cycle through what little preparation was necessary for a frozen pizza.

You’d seen him like this, exactly like this, just as you’d seen all of your brother’s friends lumber out from his bedroom at three in the afternoon on a Saturday. You never looked for too long; that was off-limits. But now, things were different. He was different—to you, at least. Now you could touch. 

You studied the sinewy muscles of his back, how they pulled taut when he reached into the freezer. Even under the fluorescent light of the kitchen, the crests of his shoulders shone like gold even though it was the middle of a sunless winter. 

Eren squinted to read the instructions on the back of the box. Your snickering was met with his side eye, and he followed it with a ‘don’t laugh’ as he tossed the box aside.

He snatched a bag of chips from the counter, and the two of you split them as an appetizer while the oven preheated. While the pizza baked, you played a game of twenty questions, just to pass the time. And when the timer blared, you ate your slices straight from the oven and asked each other questions with burnt tongues. 

You learned that Eren’s birthday was on March 30th and that his favorite food was a cheeseburger, hold the pickles—that part was important. When it rained, he preferred to either nap or go outside to watch the storm, no in between. And if he woke up one day to discover he had superhero-like powers, Eren would want to be able to teleport and travel the world, even if his clothes couldn’t come with him—yes, you asked. 

The questions continued into the bedroom because some answers, like the one to the superpower question, inspired lengthy conversations. You met Eren in his bed and curled against him, letting him spread the blanket over you. You were glad to have stuck with just the tee because you liked the feeling of his skin returning to yours, your legs intertwined with his.

It was Eren’s turn. It was the final question to end the game. You thought he’d contemplate it longer, as he had with his previous questions, but it only took a beat for him to ask, “Can I see the guy you’re dating?”

“Absolutely not!” You scoffed a laugh at his audacity, even sitting higher in your seat to balk at him. “Besides, that’s not how the game works.”

Still, his grin widened. “C’mon, please. It’s the least I deserve.”

He poked you playfully, causing you to giggle as you asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I need to size up my competition.”

You wanted to be just as bold and tell him there was no competition, none at all. But your reluctant, “Fine, here,” said enough as you settled back into the crook of his arm. 

You outstretched your phone before your face, far enough that Eren could see the screen, and scrolled to your dating app. You flitted through his profile because you didn’t want Eren to get a proper look, but he plucked the phone from your hand anyway. He glanced from you to the photo, then back to you once more.

“Seriously? This guy?” He tilted his head knowingly. “You know you can do better than that.”

Thinking you were clever, you sassed, “Oh, then are you suggesting you’re better?”

He flashed a cheeky smile. “Of course I am.”

You grabbed your phone from him with a roll of your eyes. “Whatever. He’s nice.” Eren pulled a face. “What?”

“It’s just the way you said it—‘he’s nice,’” he explained. “You don’t actually like him, do you?”

Eren was right. You didn’t want to admit it, though, not with the way he was eyeing you. But the truth sat heavy in your chest, and it consoled some of the weight to outrightly say, “No, not really. Not like I thought I did.”

You didn’t have the chance to set your phone aside before Eren snagged it again. Now aware of the guy’s name, he easily sorted through your contacts and found your messages with him. The unanswered text you last sent, well before winter break, stared back at you mockingly.

You felt a twinge of embarrassment waiting for Eren to comment on it, but whatever he was thinking, he kept the comment to himself.

It was undeniable that the guy must be a real prick for ignoring you. In turn, Eren determined he probably deserved what was coming: a message as short and sweet as ‘I think it’s best we don’t see each other again.’

Though you could have stopped him at any time, you still gasped, “Eren!” when he sent the text. It was meant as a scold but spilled from you as a laugh—as laughter, shaking your shoulders and making it a challenge to get your phone back.

A middle-of-the-night text like that could only mean one thing. You were sure he’d put the pieces together—that you had gotten with someone else—but you didn’t care. Now that he was out of the way, Eren ditched your phone next and captured the last bit of your attention.

His eyes were loyal to you, looking you straight in the face as he told you, “I like you. A lot.” He said it calmly, with a voice like a breeze. He brought a hand to your face and grazed it with the backs of his fingers. “Way more than I should, considering…”

Eren’s voice trailed off in a too-knowing way. He left it up to you to fill in the blank. No, blanks. Considering the only history between you was a two-night stand? Considering you lived three hours away? Or—how could you forget?—was it that you were the younger sister of his best friend? 

The correct answer? All of the above. 

Eren had more to say; you were sure of it. There was much—too much—left to be said. Tonight wasn’t the night for it.

You buried into the curve of his arm. Nose pressed against his neck, you breathed in the smell of his day, the salt on his skin from fucking. You lazed a hand on his chest. He was warm, live beneath your palm, his heartbeat like the patter of a tiny drum. 

You took the bait then, carelessly pitching him, “So, how’s this going to work?”

Eren heard the smile in your voice. His fingers found your chin, angling your face toward him. On it was that coy smile of yours, the one he remembered from that night. He kissed it, soft-lipped, as chaste as a mere taste.

“We’ll figure it out.”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut

[anto-pops]

Hushed Whispers - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: After working Sebastian into a frenzy before class, he refuses to acquiesce to your half-measures and steals you away to finish what you started.

Alternatively summarized as you and Sebastian having frantic, semi-public sex in an empty classroom.

Based on a request I received for “impatient broom cupboard shenanigans” except they aren’t in a broom cupboard, but SEMANTICS.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, rough sex

Full fic can be found here on Ao3!

You should have known you were playing with fire the second you rolled out of bed this morning. 

It had all started with a few light touches to motivate Sebastian into waking up. Nowadays he was all too content to tug the covers over his head and sleep through whatever class he was supposed to attend, so you’d taken the liberty of… enticing him, into turning his brain on. 

With your hands. On his cock. 

Maybe it was a little cruel in hindsight, but you hadn’t counted on Ominis drawing the curtains around the bed at the same time Sebastian was really getting into the feeling of you stroking him. Blue balled and embarrassed, you’d walked to breakfast with the two Slytherins in a tense silence. Sebastian was rigid, his lips pressed in a hard line as he doubled his efforts not to shift his hips too much while he walked, lest he come in his trousers from the friction. 

Now seated inside the Great Hall, Sebastian looked deep in thought before he asked, “Do you think Professor Weasley will let me retake the exam tomorrow if I skip today?” The fork in his ironclad grip seemed to be on the verge of bending in half. 

Ominis scowled at his plate, having expected him to say something like this. He had known exactly where Sebastian’s one-track mind would steer him after interrupting you both this morning. “Not without cause, and your boner isn’t a valid enough reason to miss an exam day.” 

There was no helping it– you snorted into your hot chocolate. Ominis continued to dissect his food in favor of entertaining his friend’s lust-fueled thoughts, and as you brought the rim of your cup to your lips, your eyes connected with Sebastian’s dark, suggestive gaze. 

Merlin’s beard. You shouldn’t have laughed. 

“We’ll meet you in class, Ominis.” Sebastian declared, smacking his fork down on the table and hauling you to your feet by the fabric of your robes. 

You hastily set down your drink before it could slosh all over the table. “We? Wait, what–” 

“Are you serious?” Ominis groused, and his brows slammed down atop those narrowed, milky blue eyes. “I am not covering for you this time. You can take the detention you’ll get in stride.” 

“Don’t bother, we’ll be there.” With that the brunet spun on his heel, dragging you with him as he strode out of the Great Hall and led you down a deserted corridor near the Courtyard. You were barely walking, completely at Sebastian’s mercy as he practically carried you by the scruff of your clothes to wherever he wanted to take you. Your feet caught on a few loose stones on the way, but your boyfriend simply tugged you upright before you had the chance to stumble. 

“Sebastian– wait, what the hell are you thinking?” 

He abruptly dipped to the right, pulling you into an empty classroom and throwing you against the wall as the door clicked shut beside you. “I’m thinking you should finish what you started this morning, darling.”

Before you could respond, Sebastian had captured your lips in a brutal kiss, biting and licking with an intensity that left you dizzy in his strong arms. You melted as he fucked his tongue into your mouth, clinging tighter to his shoulders as he brought one of his hands up to begin undoing the buttons on your blouse. The other delved lower, tracing up the burning skin of your leg and bunching the material of your skirt into a heap below your navel. When his fingers slipped under the cotton of your underwear, he swiped a digit through your wet folds, and you gasped into his mouth, garnering a chuckle from him. 

He teased around the bundle of nerves you were both desperate and loathing for him to touch. There wasn’t a lot of time before the two of you needed to be in your seats with your quills and parchment out, ready to take your Transfiguration exam. Sebastian might not care about his attendance, but you didn’t want to go out of your way to invoke the wrath of Professor Weasley. 

As though he could read your thoughts, Sebastian broke away from the kiss to mouth wetly down the column of your neck. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while,” he bit at your pulse gently, making you sigh and tip your head back against the wall. “I’ll be so good to you, but if I don’t have you now I’ll fail that fucking exam regardless of whether or not I’m there for it.” 

“F-Fuck, Sebastian,” you whispered into the empty air, and he rewarded you by roughly pressing circles around your clit, pinning you more firmly between his body and the wall so he could focus solely on shattering your composure. “We could be back at the dorms in like, two minutes.” 

He pulled away from your love-bitten neck to stare at you fixedly with those lust-dark eyes, “Or we could be fucking in two minutes.”

Touché. 

You finally relented, throwing caution to the wind as you wound your arms around Sebastian’s neck and crushed his lips to yours in a desperate kiss. To hell with it, you thought. You’d been just as disappointed leaving things the way you did this morning, even if seeing Sebastian so worked up was an added bonus to the whole thing. He met you halfway, leaning into you further to completely overwhelm your senses until all you could taste, hear, smell, and feel was him. Sebastian’s fingers resumed their ministrations against your core, drawing small twitches and breathy moans from you as he reduced you to a mewling pile of limbs. The steady roll of his groin against your thigh had you eagerly writhing back on his hand, hungry for more than just his teasing touch. 

When Sebastian finally thrust a slender finger inside of you, he practically lifted you onto your toes with the vigor he exhibited. The feeling had you groaning into his mouth, your nails digging painfully into the bare skin of his neck, and the sting had his cock twitching enthusiastically in his pants. 

“Hah,” he chuckled down at you, secretly losing his fucking mind at how perfect you looked trapped between his flushed chest and the wall. Your eyes were pinched shut with obvious desire as he stroked inside your pulsing heat with his finger, and when he went to add a second, you couldn’t help but shamelessly buck against him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “You’re enjoying this a bit more than you let on.” 

He felt your nails scrape up the nape of his neck before you grabbed a fistful of his hair, jerking his head forcefully to the side, and he swore your penetrating gaze bore into his very soul. “You started it.” 

All of his brain functions ceased when he felt you bite down on his pulse, working an angry bruise of your own into his freckled skin with a fervor that nearly had him coming in his trousers then and there. “Fuck, darling–” 

“Hurry up and fuck me already,” you kissed at the blossoming hicky once, twice, then began trailing one of your hands down to the leather of Sebastian’s belt. Your fingers had barely grazed the metal buckle before he was ripping his fingers out of your cunt to grip you by your hips, lifting you up easily so he could carry you to a desk a few feet away. 

In an instant Sebastian deposited you there and spun you around, aggressively yanking your skirt and undergarments down to your knees in one quick motion. As soon as you were exposed to him, he was pushing your chest into the cool wood, trusting you to lay still for him as he hastily undid his belt and shucked the material down some to free his painfully hard cock. Peering at him over your shoulder, you watched hungrily as Sebastian’s swollen member sprung free from his trousers, and you licked your lips when your eyes caught sight of the bead of pre-cum leaking from the head. 

Sebastian leaned over you then, his delicious weight sandwiching you against the desk, and he took a brief moment to relish in the feeling of his cock rubbing between the shapely curve of your ass. A small, needy sound slipped from your clenched teeth at the sensation, and Sebastian’s fingers wound their way in your hair to jerk your head back to meet him. At the same time he pulled your head towards him, he slammed his hips forward, sheathing himself in you so fast and so abruptly that your spine rounded and you were pressing back against him with everything in you. 

“Fuck– mmph–” His other hand flew up to your mouth, muffling your cries of delight as he set a brutal pace. 

“You have to be quiet,” Sebastian growled the demand in your ear, and the gravelly tone to his voice made you whimper. “Or are you trying to get us caught, hm? Do you want everyone outside to hear you begging for my cock, screaming my name for more?” 

He punctuated the question with a particularly forceful thrust, and the action had you jolting against the desk, the pain in your hip bones quickly blurring into tingling pleasure. Unable to form words around his hand, you could only moan feebly in response. Your nails dug fitfully into the wood under you as you rutted back with the slightest give you were allowed, desperate for more friction– more of anything.

Sebastian released his hold on your hair to rub firm, titillating circles against your clit, and the sudden attention left you breathless for all of two seconds before you wailed his name from behind his hand, the muffled sound doing more for Sebastian than he cared to admit. He knew you couldn’t keep quiet if you tried. Even if he hadn’t been chasing the sounds out of you, your voice never failed to make an appearance when his cock was making quick work of you. 

He gave up on muffling your voice then, letting his hand trail down your throat to grip you and pull you back on to his cock with precision that left your legs boneless. Sebastian felt you sag underneath him, your pulsing walls warning him of your impending climax. “You want more, darling?” 

Sebastian ground hard into you when you opened your mouth, drawing a high pitched whine from your kiss-swollen lips instead of your shaky confirmation that yes– you wanted more– but he already knew that, and he gave you a few quick, rough thrusts to appease the growing fire in your gut. 

“Sebastian, fuck–” you gasped, clawing helplessly at the hard surface beneath you. “Please, please, like that like that–” 

He grinned into the crook of your shoulder. Just a moment longer– your frantic little noises were igniting a storm in his veins. “Like this?” He rolled his hips slowly into you, his thrusts deep but so far from enough. You couldn’t fight your disappointed sigh as you shook your head, craning your neck to the side to peer at him through the corner of your eye. “Or like this,” Sebastian whispered, pulling out nearly all the way before ramming his cock into you once, twice, and then he was seeing stars from how suddenly you tightened around him. 

“Yes! Oh fuck– please, yes–” Throwing your head back against Sebastian’s shoulder, you arched impossibly further into his hold, letting him drag your body back onto his shaft however he pleased because fuck– you didn’t even need to say anything. He was fucking you so rough and so perfect, it took everything in you not to scream his name loud enough to alert the entire school to your escapades, but even if you did, you doubted you would give a shit at this point. 

When you came, you did so with a hoarse cry of Sebastian’s name, and the feeling of his fingers digging harder into your throat to pull you back onto his cock mercilessly brought you higher than you thought possible. Sebastian continued to rub small, overstimulating circles over your clit as you crumbled apart, causing you to shake and writhe under him. With every faltering thrust, he ground his balls against your ass, stealing his pleasure from you desperately, and when he finally followed after you into white bliss, Sebastian swore the ground fell out from under his feet.

With one final grunt, Sebastian collapsed against your back, mindlessly rutting into you to milk the last bits of cum from his softening cock. He sighed, thoroughly pleased with himself now that his baser urges had been satiated. The tips of his fingers traced small, soothing circles along the skin of your thigh, and you shuddered at the feeling. 

He honestly wasn’t ready to pull out yet, but he knew some part of your recovering brain had to be uncomfortable wedged against the desk. “Sweet Merlin, Darling,” he managed to utter before pushing himself onto his elbows and letting his cock slide out of your familiar warmth. “You alright?” 

“I can’t feel my legs,” you groused, voice slightly muffled since your cheek was pressed against the wood. Sebastian laughed softly and looped his warm hands around your shoulders, standing you upright so he could pull your underwear and skirt back up for you. As he stood to fix his own trousers, the two of you finally got to take a good look at one another, and you both went slack-jawed at the sight. 

Sebastian had a telling, red hickey right above the collar of his shirt. It was too far above his neckline to stand a chance at being hidden, and even if it could have been concealed, vicious welts left from your nails stretched up the expanse of his neck, disappearing into his hair. It looked like one of the cats had gotten ahold of him and emerged victorious. 

In turn, you looked absolutely wrecked. Sebastian considered dimly that he might have gone overboard with assaulting your neck throughout the entire ordeal; between the assortment of love-bites that now lined your throat and the finger shaped bruises that curled under your jaw, he imagined your only saving grace from prying eyes would be a giant scarf. 

Unfortunately, there was no time to run to your dorms to grab extra clothing. The bell tolled then, signaling the start of the school day, and you realized with thinly veiled horror that you only had five minutes to get to Transfiguration. 

“Shit, we have to go,” you leapt off the desk in a flash and nearly collapsed to the floor from how jelly-like your legs were. “Fuck!” 

Sebastian was there steadying you in a heartbeat, his chest swelling with barely contained pride. He’d fucked you so hard you couldn’t even walk properly… he was so going to pass that exam now. “Need a hand?” 

You fixed him with a pointed glare as you hurried to adjust your robes, “Those hands have done more than enough, thank you very much. Besides, you should be worried about yourself– that hickey isn’t going to hide itself.” 

Sebastian mirrored your actions, fixing his trousers and smoothing away any wrinkles in his uniform. Then he smirked, “Why would I want to hide it? I love wearing your brand on me. It’s hotter than hell– so’s that constellation of bruises you’ve got going on.” 

“Don’t remind me,” you muttered, but the words were devoid of any genuine frustration. Mostly, you just wanted to make it to class on time. Combing through the final tangles in your hair, you took Sebastian’s hand in your own, tugging him towards the door. “Come on, if we run we can make it in time.” 

“Can you even run? It didn’t look like your legs were working ten seconds ago.” 

“Merlin’s bloody balls, Sebastian, I will withhold sex from you for a month if we miss this exam.”

The two of you made record time, with Sebastian borderline carrying you to Professor Weasley’s class in a similar fashion to the way he hauled you from the Great Hall earlier. When you both slumped in your seats beside Ominis, he acknowledged the two of you with a grunt. Your eyes scanned the classroom in a bid to make sure that you truly had arrived before your Professor, and when you spotted Imelda and Garreth across the room, your stomach sank. 

The Slytherin Quidditch Captain was snickering demonically behind her sleeve, whispering something to Garreth, whose face turned an impressive shade of red once his eyes flickered to your neck. He gave you a bashful wave when he saw you staring. 

Imelda spun in her seat to grab Natty’s attention next, and before you knew it, you watched as Imelda pointed at her own neck, then jerked her thumb over her shoulder at you. Natty’s gaze found yours in an instant, and her expression transformed into something coy and knowing. She grinned boldly at you, giving you a thumbs up that Sebastian caught sight of, much to your dismay. 

He chuckled next to you, unashamed at the attention, and poked at one of the many marks that now lined the column of your neck. You shivered at the touch, well aware of the painstaking day that now lay ahead of you. Scarf or no scarf, your friends’ knowing stares would haunt you for the foreseeable future. 

As your head tipped forward and thunked against the table, you found yourself honestly wondering if detention would have been preferable to this unique form of torment.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x female!reader #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow oneshot #ominis gaunt #imelda reyes #garreth weasley #my writing

[dirtyvulture]

Dear Diary

*Set in the Darkest Knight AU*

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Mutant!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4459

Summary: Natasha embraces her new life as an X-Men.

AN: I'm back with a little one shot. :) Enjoy!

December 6, 2023

Dear Diary,

Is that an appropriate way to start one of these? I’ve never kept a diary or a journal before. But Marie gave me this cute little notebook and said writing stuff down helps clear her mind, so I don’t think there’s any harm in giving it a shot. They would never let us have something like this in the Red Room. Too much evidence lying around for someone to stumble upon. Should I put a lock on this? Y/N wouldn’t snoop around to read this, would she? Well, I guess if she is–leave my diary alone, you big dummy!

The professor said the Red Room soldiers and Widows are coming tomorrow. This is all my fault. I’ve put these good people and innocent children in danger. Earlier, we went to help the kids pack their bags and board the buses. I’m not sure if Y/N has any kids of her own (or ever did at all), but I can tell she really cares about them. Although she was not happy with some of the excessive luggage some of them were bringing. No one would tell me where they’re sending the kids, but I overheard Ororo mention something about a private resort they had to buy out.

I still don’t quite understand why these people are willing to sacrifice so much for me. I’m basically a stranger to them. I have nothing to give them in return if they ask. Maybe they’ll finally throw me out when they realize how worthless I am. That’s what I really deserve. Not these warm clothes, the home-cooked meals, and this roof over my head. And I definitely don’t deserve the kindness and care Y/N has shown me. I really like her, but I’m afraid she’ll leave me when she realizes how boring and inexperienced I am. 

Oh, I think she’s coming out of the shower now. I’ll continue this later.

Love,

Nat

***********************************************************************

December 15, 2023

Dear Diary,

It’s weird how life goes back to normal so fast here. The Red Room soldiers and Widows were here not even a week ago, tearing down doors and blasting out windows, and everything is already repaired and the students are back at it like nothing happened.

A lot of them are excited to go back to their homes and families for the holiday. But a lot of them will also be staying at the mansion, because their families won’t accept them or they just don’t have any home to go back to. The professor asked Y/N to help plan some holiday games so the kids staying don’t get too bored or lonely. She’s acting like it’s the dumbest assignment he’s ever given her, but I’ve seen her spending all her free time ordering presents and decorations (with the professor’s credit card, of course), so I know she takes it very seriously and the kids are going to love whatever she comes up with.

I’m really glad I get to spend Christmas here. It’s been a long time since I’ve actually been able to celebrate it with people I love. I feel so welcomed here and no one looks at me like I’m any different, when I come from a past where there’s red all over my ledger. Sometimes I’m surprised anyone even lets me be around these kids alone, but some of them have powers that even make Y/N nervous, and I think they know they can trust me.

It’ll take some more time before I can be fully comfortable here, but it’s really starting to grow on me and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Love,

Nat

***********************************************************************

December 25, 2023

Natasha wakes up alone. She looks around the bedroom, in case you might be on the floor doing push-ups or in the bathroom showering, but the room is completely empty. Her heartbeat picks up as she jumps out of bed, afraid that you’ve left her, when she notices a note on the desk.

Downstairs making breakfast. Come join when you’re up - Y/N

She relaxes immediately, touched how you made sure to let her know in advance where you would be. She quickly washes up and puts on a robe, then hurries downstairs to a chaotic mess of torn gift wrapping, screaming children, and flashing new toys. She steps into the kitchen, where you are wearing a flowered apron and are threatening Marie with a spatula.

“Stop, those aren’t ready–Marie!” You swat at her hands as she swipes for a pancake.

“Merry Christmas, Miss Nat!” Marie says, moving your attention away from her as your girlfriend appears.

“Merry Christmas, Marie.” Natasha gives the girl a hug, not missing the folded pancake in her hand. 

“Merry Christmas, darling,” you say next, waiting for her to come over. “I made a special plate for you. It’s over here so the kids don’t get into it.” You point to a foil-covered plate off to the side of the stove. Natasha goes to investigate, peeling back the foil to find the plate fully-loaded with two different types of pancakes, one next to a little container of jam and honey, and the other still steaming and garnished with flecks of green onion. There’s even a bowl of grainy buckwheat porridge. Her heart soars at the sight of her favorite native breakfast. With a delighted squeal, she throws herself into your arms.

“Thankyou thankyou thankyou,” she choruses, squeezing you tightly as you rub her back.

“You’re welcome, darling.” 

At this point, you shoo everyone out of the kitchen to finish the preparations. Natasha joins Marie in the dining hall, helping set up the plates and silverware. She watches with great curiosity as Kitty tries getting Peter to step under the mistletoe she hung above the doorway, and then is distracted when Jean and Scott come down for breakfast.

“Y/N cooks Christmas breakfast for us every year,” Jean explains to Natasha. “The kids always look forward to it.”

“Hey, Y/N!” Scott yells into the kitchen. “Keep the walnuts away from my food, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Natasha hears you dismissively respond.

“Scott’s allergic,” Jean whispers to her. “Now there’s no proof how, but he ended up with a plateful of them last year and I almost had to take him to the hospital. Needless to say, it was an eventful Christmas.”

Natasha giggles to herself, already having a feeling she knows exactly how those walnuts got on Scott’s plate.

Everyone finds a seat at the table, the empty one next to Natasha reserved for you. You finally emerge from the kitchen, no longer in the flowered apron but one of your classic checkerboard flannels. You’re carrying an impressive tower of pancakes in one hand and a pan filled half and half with bacon and sausage in the other. The students break out in appreciation and applause as Bobby scoots aside some dishes to make room for the last trays.

“Don’t take more than you can finish,” you remind the kids, going around the table to sit next to Natasha and presenting her with her special plate. “And uh, Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and all that other stuff.” You raise your apple cider in a toast and everyone follows your lead.

“Thanks for breakfast, Y/N,” Ororo says, clinking her glass to yours. The students erupt with more thanks before they start reaching for the food, passing around the mountainous plate of pancakes, scooping whole fried eggs onto each other’s plates.

“Thanks again, babe,” Natasha says, putting her hand on your thigh as she leans over to kiss you on the cheek.

“You should try it first before thanking me,” you tease, still not used to all the praise. You were just trying to be a good partner, and it was somewhat of a Christmas tradition for you to cook breakfast for all the students who stayed at the mansion over break. You didn’t mind it at all, in fact you really did enjoy spending time in the kitchen and it made you feel good to take care of others.

Natasha leaves her hand on your knee as she eats, and eventually you put your hand on top of hers comfortingly. Neither of you engage much in conversation as you eat and listen, happy with the company. Once all of the food has been finished, Ororo rounds up the students to help clean everything before they can continue opening presents. 

Kitty gets you a Johnny Cash vinyl record. Marie and Bobby got you a variety pack of exotic flavors of jerky, including alligator, ostrich, and buffalo. Storm gives you and Natasha tickets to a weekend getaway at a Canadian resort. Jean and Scott also throw in a joint gift of a new set of winter bedsheets. You are very thankful for the presents and pile them neatly by your feet, when Natasha pulls out a box and puts it on your lap. Inside is a familiar-looking flannel shirt.

“It’s a brand new one,” Natasha says. “To replace all the ones I steal from your closet,” Natasha says.

“Thanks,” you say, putting your arm around her to pull her closer so you can kiss her cheek. “This one is from me.” You hand her a very small box.

Natasha opens it delicately and gasps when she sees what you’ve given her. It’s a wooden ring, carved a little roughly around the edges  with little turquoise-colored gems pressed into the outside.

“Did you make this?” Natasha asks, running her finger over the gems.

“Uh, yeah.” You’re suddenly nervous that she doesn’t like it. Woodworking was not your finest hobby, despite your decades to fine-tune the skill, but you preferred to build vast structures and furniture. Tiny little pieces of jewelry were extremely difficult to handle, but hopefully it was worth the numerous cuts and splinters you gave yourself. 

Natasha slips it on her right ring finger–a perfect fit. Maybe you needed to give yourself more credit for your handiwork.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, holding her hand up to admire the ring. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” 

Natasha snuggles closer to you and rests her head on your shoulder while you sit back and watch everyone else finish opening their gifts.

***********************************************************************

The rest of the day is busy but productive. Natasha has never felt happier watching the students competitively decorate gingerbread houses, then go outside and play in the snow. You don’t join in anymore, preferring to watch from the side. You’re already wearing the flannel Natasha got for you and Natasha gazes at you adoringly from afar. Despite the differences the two of you had from time to time, she hasn’t loved another person the way she loves you. But sometimes she worries that you don’t feel the same way. 

You still don’t talk very much, hardly opening up about your past the way Natasha has spilled about hers. Although you seem mostly content at the mansion, Natasha can tell you’re still adjusting to being around so many people. The life of solitude in the cabin in the woods had clearly been more your style, and she feels guilty for dragging you away from that. But as much as she would love to spend all day with you cozied up in a cabin you built with your own hands, it wasn’t a realistic option. Not with all the threats and dangers that could come her way.

Which is why it was so important to Natasha that the Red Room be dealt with, as soon as possible.

She didn’t like how dismissive you got every time she brought it up, but she understood why. You had found your domestic bliss and didn’t want to let it go anytime soon. She wasn’t going to blame you. But she wished you would actually listen to her instead of shutting her down all the time. She would figure out how to broach the topic with you eventually, but today was not that day.

After a quiet dinner, which is basically just warmed up leftovers from breakfast, Natasha finds you sitting by yourself on the couch in front of a dying fire. Most of the students had retired to their rooms, exhausted by the day’s festivities. Natasha sits next to you, leaning her shoulder against yours.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Hi.” You offer her your hand and she clasps onto it, threading her fingers with yours. You smile when you see the wooden ring on her finger. It looks perfect on her. “Did you have fun today?” you ask. 

“It was the best Christmas I ever had,” she replies. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course.”

Natasha is tired, but there’s still one more thing she wants to do with you. She rests her hand on your thigh, subtly at first, then she slowly starts to stroke your leg, her fingers barely perceptible through your jeans. You ignore her and her movements become bolder, creeping towards the inside of your thigh now and squeezing it lightly.

“Can I help you with something?” you finally ask. Natasha has always been a little more shy when it comes to asking for intimacy with you. But you were patient with her and never pressured her, and that encouraged her to have the confidence to ask if you were in the mood–even if she didn’t always do it with words. 

“Do you want to go upstairs?” she says, leaning forward until her lips almost touch yours. “I still have one more present to give you.”

“Oh, do you now?” you ask, trying to kiss her but she pulls away.

“You have to come upstairs,” she repeats, offering you her hand as she stands up.

“All right, all right.” Your knees creak as you push off the couch, taking Natasha’s hand and following her upstairs. You can hear her heartbeat pounding with excitement or maybe that’s…yours? You hope everyone else has gone to sleep by now, otherwise they wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon.

Back in the privacy of the bedroom, you let Natasha lead you to the bed and you sit down on the edge with her climbing onto your lap. 

“Is this okay?” she asks, her hands locking around the back of your neck.

“Of course,” you whisper, leaning in until your foreheads touch. Your arms circle her waist to hold her securely in place. Her breath fans over your face and her heartbeat pumps at an almost alarmingly quick rate. 

“I want you,” she says, rocking her hips against your thighs. “I want you to take me.”

“How do you want me?” you ask, before she presses her lips roughly to yours, her fingers digging into your neck. Her arousal spikes and so does yours. You open your mouth when she licks your lips to deepen the kiss. She tastes like vanilla and cookies and you instinctively pull her closer to you, wanting to devour her until the morning.

Natasha grabs the collar of your flannel, pulling apart the top buttons and running her hands down your chest and abs. Your skin burns where she touches you and you nip lightly on her bottom lip when she rests her hands on the buckle of your belt.

“I want to taste you,” you pant, hoping your request doesn’t come across as too greedy. Natasha has to fight down her thrill of excitement at your suggestion, wondering how you knew exactly what she wanted. She doesn’t even take the time to agree with you, instead hurriedly stripping off her clothes to show you how eager she is. You take off the flannel, setting it aside with reverence, then removing your undershirt and jeans. Natasha tackles you back on the bed, your thigh fitting between her legs and you feel the heat from her center rubbing against you.

“You’re so wet for me,” you say, holding her hips again and guiding her up until she’s hovering over your chest. “My good girl.”

“Your good girl,” Natasha reiterates, grabbing onto the headboard for support before she positions herself over your face. The scent of her arousal is almost overwhelming to you, and you waste no time bringing your arms over her thighs to pull her down. Natasha whines when your mouth makes contact with her slick center, your tongue slipping into her and coating with her juices. 

Natasha moans, grinding down so you can enter her deeper. Your arms tighten to prevent her from moving too much; you want to do things at your own pace. Her taste is so intoxicating and addictive, you could lie here forever eating her out. Natasha grips the headboard tighter, struggling to rock against your face for more friction, but you won’t let her. She whines in desperation, the noises music to your ears. Your tongue dips into her again before tracing up to her clit, flicking against it and Natasha grinds down harder on your chin, gasping and moaning. 

“Y/N,” she begs. “Y/N, please.”

You stop, pulling away from her far enough to say, “What do you want, baby?”

“I want you,” she repeats, her voice breaking. “I need you.”

“I know, baby. I got you.” As much as you love teasing her, this is not the time. You knew Natasha could sometimes be insecure about your relationship with her. But you had no regrets in choosing to be with her and loved her so much. You would never miss an opportunity to show her, either.

You loosen your arms around her so she has some freedom to move and Natasha quickly adjusts herself until she’s comfortable. When she settles back down on your face again, you find her clit and wrap your lips around it, rewarded with a long, drawn-out moan. Natasha rolls her hips to help you find a good rhythm. You feel her thighs tremble and more of her slick spills onto your tongue. 

“Oh, god. Oh fuck, Y/N,” she whimpers, the headboard flexing dangerously from how hard she’s holding onto it. 

Your stomach practically burns from how aroused you are with Natasha riding your face, and you’re hoping she’ll help you relieve some of the tension once you make her finish. You’ve held out as long as you could, and you can tell Natasha is ready to fall over the edge. Your tongue rests on her clit again, swiping upwards in a straight line, then dragging down at a diagonal angle, then going back up.

N.

Your tongue moves in an inverted V next, drawing an imaginary bar between them.

A.

You lick down her clit once more, then swipe perpendicular.

T.

Natasha is panting and shaking, completely unaware that you’re trying to spell her name on her with your tongue. One of her hands has left the headboard and is holding tightly onto your hair in an attempt to guide you, but your own plan is already in action.

She doesn’t make it the next A, her back arching and thighs clamping around your head as she finally cums. You don’t let a drop of it go to waste, lapping at her sensitive folds until she’s whimpering and trying to pull your head away. Natasha lifts herself off your face with a contented sigh, turning herself away from the headboard now, but you’re not quite done with her yet.

You pull her back down on your face and she falls forward with her hands on your chest. 

“Did I say you could go anywhere?” you grumble playfully. 

“Y/N,” Natasha giggles. 

“Can I have one more, darling?” you ask, and she responds by sitting back on your face. But now Natasha is the one with other ideas, as she eyes the veins on your flexing abdomen that disappear behind the band of your underwear. You feel her hands run across your stomach and your breath hitches when she tugs down your underwear.

“Nat, what are you–oh, shit.” Now it’s your turn to gasp and moan when Natasha leans over and places her mouth on your dripping center. You completely lose focus of what you were doing, instinctively spreading your legs open further to give her better access. “Fuck baby, oh fuck,” you whine, your head dropping back on the pillow.

“Did I say you could stop?” Natasha teases, turning your own words back against you. It takes a monumental effort, but you calm yourself enough to put your mouth to work again. Natasha almost soaks herself when she realizes how turned on you’ve gotten just from eating her out. Now she has only one mission in mind: make you cum before she does a second time. But you’re refusing to make it easy for her, and Natasha is already dangerously close despite having finished mere minutes ago. She knows she has to hurry, but judging from the tremble in your thighs, you’re closer than you’re letting on.

Natasha’s tongue circles your clit and she can feel you panting against her, your own efforts faltering in their rhythm. She pushes back against your face to remind you of what you promised her. Your fingers dig into the curve of her ass and you feel her breasts rubbing against your abs. Her mouth is so hot and wet and perfect on you, making you lose your breath every time her tongue touches you.

“Fuck, Nat,” you whimper, feeling like you’re losing control of yourself. You’re not even sure if what you’re doing to her anymore is working because all you can think about is the throbbing in your lower stomach that begs to be released. Your back arches off the bed when her tongue lashes at your clit and she struggles and fails to push down on your thighs to keep you grounded. “Nat, I can’t,” you warn, a little embarrassed at how fast you’re ready to release. 

“It’s okay,” you hear Natasha say, “Cum for me, baby.” 

White floods your vision and all the muscles in your body tighten as you spill into her mouth, a moan catching in your throat. Your head spins in a rush of endorphins and you’re practically convulsing underneath Natasha when you finally come down from your high. She purrs in delight at her success, gently squeezing at your thighs. And as much as you want to flip her around and press her head against your chest, you still do owe her.

Natasha’s second orgasm is a little more subdued but just as pleasurable. She bites the inside of your thigh to quiet the noise of her moan and you almost cum again. But once she finds the strength to move, Natasha crawls back up to you, nuzzling the side of your head and kissing you. Normally, you could go several rounds without even stopping for a break, but you’re unusually exhausted today. Maybe it was from waking up at four o’clock to work on breakfast for everyone or making sure that the Christmas activities throughout the day ran smoothly. 

Natasha rests her head on your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat and you rub her shoulder, tilting your head down to breathe in the faded scent of her shampoo. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” she whispers.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

***********************************************************************

January 2, 2024

Dear Diary,

Professor Xavier called me personally to his office today. I was really nervous that I was in trouble for something. I’m still not sure how I feel about his mind-reading thing. I try to keep my thoughts in check when he’s around, but I think that makes it seem like I’m hiding something. But other than that, he’s only ever been polite and respectful to me, and I can tell Y/N really looks up to him as a mentor and father figure.

He told me he has a lead on where the Red Room could be and asked if I still want to pursue them. Of course I do, but I know Y/N isn’t happy about it. I thought she would understand more. I know she’s got her own past that she hasn’t told me the entirety of yet (not that she’s required to), but she’s told a few stories so I know her situation is similar enough to mine. I wish she was more supportive instead of trying to talk me out of it, but I know she’s worried too. She doesn’t want me rushing back into danger and I totally get that. But I just…I can’t stay here and be cared for and protected and loved when there are so many of my sisters still being held against their will and forced into doing horrible things.

Luckily, the professor seems more understanding of things. But I don’t want him or anyone else here risking their lives for me. If I have to go alone, I will. I don’t know if I can do it alone, though. I’m sure Y/N will insist on tagging along no matter what. I just hope she doesn’t get too grumpy about the whole thing.

Love,

Nat

***********************************************************************

January 4, 2024

Dear Diary,

I still haven’t told Y/N what the professor told me 2 days ago (assuming she hasn’t already gone through my diary and read about it here). I tried to mention it after dinner, but I could tell as soon as I let the “R” word slip she was not paying attention to the conversation anymore. I don’t want my frustration to build up, so I’ll probably have to be straightforward about it, which isn’t easy.

I know the professor can hear all of my thoughts, so I wonder if he’s going to get tired of them and just talk to Y/N himself. But probably not. This is my problem to handle. I’ll find the courage somehow to deal with it. 

I just hope it doesn’t cause Y/N to look down on me for this. I’m already nervous that I’m constantly annoying her, and if she gets fed up enough and kicks me out I will literally have nowhere to go and at that point, I’d welcome back the Red Room with open arms. That probably seems a little dramatic, but I really don’t want to risk losing the best person that ever came into my life. I have Y/N to thank for everything I have here, and I think most people in my position would call me crazy for trying to make any changes to my situation. 

But I’m not like most people. And I have to do what I think is right, even if others try to stop me. 

I’ll bring it up to Y/N later again. Maybe if I catch her in a good mood she’ll be more receptive to the idea. Wishing luck to my future self.

Love,

Nat

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AN: Please leave likes, comments, and reblog! Follow for more content. 🥰

Multipart sequel in the works!

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader

[callsign-rogueone]

what was I made for? - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Marked!Pacifist!Reader (continuation of keep her safe) The aftermath of War Games has you questioning your purpose, and what your signet truly is. wc: 4.4k 🏷: FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME SPOILERS (I have 50 pages left, but I just can’t do it. send help.) canon-level violence, injury, canon character death, self doubt, anxiety. oops, I made Dain tolerable again. angst, then happy, then more angst. I also skipped over a smut scene / just made a reference to it happening, so if anyone wants that as a separate post, lmk and I can make it happen 👀 thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged/commented on part 1! it means a lot to me 🫶

Riorson House is more your home than Basgiath ever has been, but it’s become foreign to you in the three years you’d spent at the college. It feels like you’re hallucinating as you wander the halls.

Maybe everything that’s happened in the last few days has been a hallucination -- it wouldn't be the first time Varrish or Carr had pushed you to delirium with the amount of pain you’d taken for others.

Maybe it’s a dream. That’s it. A really bad dream. Any moment now, you’re going to wake up in Garrick’s bed and get ready for morning formation, and you’ll forget the sight of Liam dying by breakfast, when you’re sitting across from him at the table like you always do. Violet’s screams of pain will stop playing in your ears, replaced by her laughter at one of Ridoc’s jokes.

But no matter how much you pinch at your skin, you aren’t waking up. This is reality.

“I hear you’re a mender, too,” someone says in a gentle voice, bringing you out of your daze. Violet’s brother, Brennan.

“Does it ever get easier?” You ask quietly. “Does it always hurt this much?”

“Mending becomes easier. Seeing that kind of stuff every day doesn’t,” he replies, and the exhausted look on his face tells you he’s being honest. “But it shouldn’t hurt. Tell me more about that.”

“The second person I mended was a scribe who’d fallen from a ladder in the library and broken her leg. I did everything right, the bone set properly, but my leg hurt for a week, right where she’d broken hers.”

Brennan is silent, letting you continue.

“They broke Garrick’s arm in RSC. I was able to fix it for him, and I took the pain, but they broke it again two hours later. I mended him and Xaden over and over until I collapsed. I didn’t wake for two days. They both still think it was just exhausting for me. They don’t know about the pain.”

The tears are coming openly now, dripping down your cheeks, and you bring a hand up to wipe them away with the sleeve of your flight jacket. “But it isn’t all bad. I couldn’t save Liam, but I was able to make him more comfortable in the end. I took his pain away, and let him go in peace.”

You don’t tell him what death feels like. No description you could give could adequately prepare anyone for the cold sensation that still lingers in your chest. It will likely remain there for the next few days.

“Hey,” he says softly, “We’ll figure this out, I promise. For now, just try to get some rest.” 

You nod quietly, looking back up at him. “Can someone please tell Garrick that I’m okay?” You ask in a small voice, folding your hands in your lap. You’d been heartbroken to realize that the rest of the squad had left for Basgiath before you woke, leaving you here alone.

You didn’t get to say goodbye to any of them, and you don’t know when you’ll see them again. Or if you’ll see them, you think, but you push the thought away quickly. They’ll survive. They have to.

Brennan cracks a smile - everyone in the rebel cause is aware of how deeply Garrick loves you. “Of course.”

———————————————————————

“Cadet Mairi died alongside his dragon, who was attacked by a drift of Gryphon riders. Cadet Avan attempted to mend them, and died trying,” Xaden says levelly, staring down the group of professors on the dais. “They both died honorable, but preventable deaths.”

Garrick knows Xaden is lying, knows you aren’t dead — or you hadn’t been when they left for Basgiath, at least, but his friend’s words have him on edge. Have you woken up yet? 

Chradh speaks into his mind, sending a wave of hot rage through him. “Relax.”

“Relax?” He echoes, irate. “You’re telling me to relax right now, when-”

Chradh doesn’t bother to argue with him. “She is safe under the care of the silver one’s brother, where she will remain until the moment is right. It is better this way. She won’t be in pain anymore.”

Chradh doesn’t elaborate further. Fucking dragons and their constant need to speak in riddles.

The rest of the quadrant spends the night drinking and congratulating themselves on surviving, but Garrick doesn’t touch a drop of alcohol. The three of you were supposed to do this together. It wouldn’t be right to celebrate without you.

———————————————————————

“We’re gonna start from square one, with something that can’t hurt you,” Brennan says, placing two halves of a cracked plate on the table in front of you.

It’s simple enough to make the pieces rise into the air, using the same magic required to make a pen write for you. You concentrate, willing the halves to fuse together. They touch, and you think you’ve done it, your heart leaping, only to fall as they crash back down to the table again, splitting into even more pieces.

Brennan touches one of the shards, and they glue themselves back together perfectly; no cracks, no trace of the plate ever having been broken. “That’s what I thought.”

“Let me keep trying,” you begin, heart pounding. Brennan can’t think you’re a failure, not this early.

“You could sit here with this plate all day and it wouldn’t change,” he says gently, confirming what you know deep down. “I don’t think you’re a mender. I think you’re something else entirely.”

You sit with the information for a moment.

“Signets take the form of our base need as a person,” he says. “We need to find out what that is for you.”

You already know. “I wake up every day grateful that Xaden bargained for our lives, but I have done too much harm in my time at Basgiath. The crown has done too much harm to Tyrrendor. All I’ve ever wished for is to fix that, to undo the pain.”

“To undo the pain, or to help move forward and grow?” He asks gently.

You aren’t sure.

———————————————————————

You go through your morning stretches, as always, focusing on your breath to distract from the pain in your side. 

“Your mate has returned.” Tab says, interrupting. “Thought you’d like to know.”

You bolt upright, running through the house toward the gates, bypassing Xaden to sprint straight toward Garrick.

He wraps you in a warm embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head. You still fit together like puzzle pieces, even after months apart.

“You’re alive,” you breathe. “Nobody would tell me anything, I was worried sick,”

“Of course I’m alive, angel. Had to come back to you.”

You trace the Lieutenant’s patch across his collarbone, memorizing the shape. It looks natural on him, like it’s always been there. It sounds good, too. Lieutenant Garrick Tavis.

“I need to tell you something,” you say quietly, “I haven’t been entirely honest with you about-“

Footsteps approach. “Sorry to break up the reunion,” Felix says, “but Avan, we need you.”

There’s something in his tone that has your heart pounding. Which of your friends is it going to be this time?

“Tell me later,” Garrick says. “Go. Do what you were made to do.”

You know he means well, but his words tie your stomach in a knot. What you were made to do. Were you truly made to endure the suffering of others?

———————————————————————

Every muscle in your body feels like it’s on fire as you slump into a chair, sitting down for the first time that day. If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to get some sleep before you’re needed again.

“There you are. I didn’t see you in battle brief.” Garrick says, relieved.

“Haven’t been going,” you mumble. “They need me here. Bren’s teaching now, so s’ just me and one other mender.”

He realizes no healers had come with the riot from Basgiath. You likely haven’t left the infirmary since they’d arrived.

“Come to bed,” he coaxes softly. “You need sleep. You can't pour from an empty cup.”

Yes, you can. You have been for months.

He takes your hand, not giving you a choice. You lean into him as he leads you up the grand staircase to a room near Xaden’s. Your muscles protest every step, but you keep quiet.

You haven’t been in here for years, not since you’d left for Basgiath as candidates, but it’s exactly the same as you remember; dark drapery, bookshelves, a neat display of the knives that he hadn’t taken to school with him.

The sight has you in tears.

“Whoa, hey,” he says softly, pulling you closer, and you whimper in pain at the pressure against your ribs. He lets go immediately. “Angel, I’m sorry — are you hurt?”

You sob, the dam finally breaking and grief flooding out of you. You haven’t seen each other since that horrible day, you haven’t seen anyone from the squad you went with to Resson, haven’t had anyone to talk about it with, until now. 

You shake your head, tears dripping down your cheeks. “I couldn’t save Liam. I tried, I really did. All I could do was take his pain away.”

So Xaden had told Basgiath the truth, to some degree: you tried to fix Liam, and couldn’t. The boy’s death had hurt you badly enough that Xaden wouldn’t let you return to the school.

“There was nothing else you could do. Nobody could save him, not after Deigh…”

“I know that, but it wasn’t just him. Everyone I’ve ever… fixed, I’ve taken the pain from their body into mine, and I can’t get rid of it for days.”

Garrick’s heart breaks. So that’s what Chradh meant when he said you wouldn’t be in pain anymore if you left Basgiath. Those eight-hour days of mending infantry may as well have been torture for you. 

Torture. RSC. You’d healed his wounds, Xaden’s, Bodhi’s, Violet’s, time and time again without complaint, and he knew it took a lot out of you, but not that it hurt. “Angel, why didn’t you tell me? If I’d known…”

“I wanted to,” you sniffle, “I wanted to tell you a year ago when it started happening. I thought it was normal, that I was just weak, until Brennan told me that this doesn’t happen to him. He just gets tired, like everyone else does when they use their signets too much.”

You try to steady your breathing, but the pain in your not-broken ribs is too overwhelming. “I’ve spent hours practicing and I can’t even fix a broken plate. I’m not a mender. I don’t know what I am. Nobody does, not even the professors. Brennan thinks it’s getting better, but I don’t have it in me to tell him that it isn’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He wants to pull you into an embrace, wants to stroke your hair and tell you it’ll be okay, but he doesn’t want to hurt you any more than he already has.

“S’ not your fault.” You sniff.

“But it’s not yours, either,” he reminds you gently. “You’re so strong, angel. You crossed the parapet, ran the gauntlet, you bonded a dragon, and you’ve endured everything else. Please don’t ever think for a second that you’re weak.”

He takes your hand in his, watching your face carefully, but you don’t wince at the touch. “We’ll talk to Brennan tomorrow, together. For now, I just want you to get some sleep, okay?”

You nod silently, having run out of tears.

“Attagirl.”

As you settle into bed next to him, freshly showered and wearing one of his warm sweaters, you swear the pain has dimmed.

———————————————————————

When Garrick takes you to see Brennan the next morning, he isn’t alone. Your professors are seated beside him, along with some of the Tyrrish elders.

Devera speaks first. “We owe you an apology, Cadet Avan. The faculty was unaware that Carr and Varrish were using your signet as a method of punishment, or that it pains you to use it.”

“And I owe you an apology,” you say quietly. “I should have come back after the War Games.”

“That was my decision,” Xaden says firmly, “and I stand by it. She was in no condition to return to the school, much less to graduate and be stationed at an outpost across the continent from her support system, while still feeling the coldness of Cadet Mairi’s death.”

How does he know that you could feel it? Had you told him in your delirium? Had Brennan told him? Had you even told Brennan? 

“Your friends have effectively plead your case, and we agree that you have satisfied all the requirements for graduation from the Rider’s Quadrant.” Emeterrio says. “Congratulations, Lieutenant.”

Garrick slips your flight jacket onto your shoulders, and you notice the Lieutenant insignia has already been sewn on, to match his. When did he…? 

You accept the handshake Devera offers you, still a little dazed, but there’s one more order of business to address.

“May I rejoin my old squad?” You ask the table of professors quietly. “They are family to me. I would like to ride with them again, and aid them however I can.”

They exchange hesitant looks, and your heart sinks. Do they not think you’re good enough?

“I don’t see why not,” Brennan says firmly enough for everyone else to agree — he outranks the professors with the years he’s been part of the movement.

You exhale in relief.

Garrick cheers. “The dream team is back, baby!” He pulls you into a gentle embrace, knowing you’re still in pain, but wanting to hold you close.

You laugh, not minding the ache in your ribs.

Xaden is unimpressed. “When have we ever once called ourselves the dream team?”

“We haven’t, but I’m starting now. It’ll stick. I’ll have it embroidered on your flight jacket, Xay.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Xaden replies, setting off a brotherly argument behind you.

You look to the leadership once more, bowing your head in respect. “Thank you. For everything.”

Devera gives you a warm smile. “I am glad to see you have found your place here, Lieutenant. Remember that your empathy is a gift, even in times of war.”

Empathy.

“Am I dismissed?” You ask.

“Yes, Lieutenants, you are all dismissed,” Emeterrio answers dryly, looking over your shoulder at Garrick and Xaden. The latter has the former in a playful headlock, messing up his hair. 

“Human boys,” Tab says, exasperated. You laugh in agreement, leaving them in the Assembly room to sort themselves out.

It’s easy enough to find who you’re looking for — he’s the only person sitting completely alone in the mess, a textbook open in front of him that he isn’t reading. He’s gazing into the distance, eyes unfocused, but he looks up when he realizes you’re standing in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “about what I saw in Varrish’s office. I had no idea how much you all have endured. What we are taught in Navarre is only one side of the story, but you showed me the other.”

“I’m glad I could help change your mind.”

He reaches into the pocket of his flight jacket and extends a hand. Your protection rune sits in his palm, complete with a new leather cord. “A peace offering. I stole it back from Varrish, and Brennan mended it.”

You smile, taking it from him and slipping it back over your head. “You’re turning into quite the rule-breaker, Aetos. But thank you. It means a lot to me.”

You’re about to leave, but something compels you to impart a piece of advice. “I know how it feels when people don’t want to trust you because of your family history. It’ll take a while for some of them to warm up to you, but you can make it go a lot faster if you keep yourself out of trouble.”

———————————————————————

Your first flight back with your squad is supposed to be easy, a surveying flight with a small riot, just to check their perimeters, but you can’t seem to quell your anxiety as you take off.

“We will be fine, gentle one. We’re in strong company,” Tab reassures. He stays close to Chradh, knowing Garrick’s proximity will calm you. “How does it feel to be back?”

“Good. I’ve missed this.”

“You have always enjoyed being up this high,” he agrees. “Shall we review some of our basic maneuvers?”

“Sure.”  Maybe that will settle your nerves.

“Hold on.” Tab dips, practicing all the angles — banking right, left, up, down.

“Something is wrong,” you blurt, and Tab straightens his path immediately, falling back into the formation. Every nerve in your body pulses with a sensation you’ve never felt before, standing on end. “Something really bad is going to happen.”

You’re right.

“Wyvern,” Tab warns just as they come into your line of sight. They charge straight at the front of the riot, where Sgaeyl leads the pack. 

You’re outmatched, nearly two dozen of them and only ten of you. You’re going to die here. At least you’ll be with your best friends.

“That kind of thinking isn’t helpful!” Tab scolds, tightening the formation. 

One gets too close for comfort, spewing blue flame, and Chradh banks hard - too hard. You gasp in horror as Garrick is thrown from his seat down to the ground below.

“Dive!” You yell, and Tab follows without hesitation, making a near-vertical drop.

You’ve never been so grateful for the running landing they’d taught you last year. It had been excruciating to execute on top of the pain of unbroken bones, but it’s just manageable now after a few days off from the infirmary.

Clutching Failsafe for dear life, your only defense, you sprint toward Garrick’s limp body, ripping off your goggles.

His heart still beats, but multiple bones look broken, his breathing labored. Touching him is almost unbearable, which tells you he won’t last much longer if you don’t do something.

Deep breaths, like Brennan had taught you, to accept their pain as it entered your body, holding it before batting it away like a fly.

You still haven’t figured out how to make that work.

Hot tears roll down your cheeks, and you start to berate yourself; Why can’t you do this? Compose yourself. Garrick is going to die if you can’t pull it together. Garrick is going to die, just like Liam did, because you aren’t strong enough to fix a fucking plate.

Anger overcomes you for the first time since you’d watched your parents die six years ago. You scream, a sound like nothing you’ve ever heard before splitting the air. The pain dissipates almost instantly. For the first time in two years, your body isn’t aching, and you sob in relief.

Garrick bolts upright, gasping for breath as spring blooms across the snowy plain, trees with bare branches suddenly teeming with green leaves.

Tab roars in pride and the rest of the riot joins in, the cliffs shaking from the volume of their celebration. 

“Lifebringer!” He thunders into your mind. 

Your head snaps upward, and you realize that the ground is littered with motionless wyvern.

Garrick pulls you to your feet, brushing the tears from your cheeks. “Come on, angel,” he says, grinning, “we have a war to win.”

You’re still dazed as Tab brings you back to Riorson house, Garrick helping you dismount and leading you inside.

“We have a weapon,” Xaden says, actually smiling as he faces the assembly. “Something, someone, that can destroy wyvern in their tracks.”

Garrick keeps you glued to his side as Xaden tells the elders what happened, but it’s all in one ear, out the other.

You’re dismissed after a few minutes, heading back out to the mess, where your friends gather around one of the large tables in the library.

“Tab called me lifebringer,” you say, confused. “What is that?”

“I thought it was just folklore,” Violet says from a few rows down, scanning the shelves, and everyone turns to her, listening. “Lifebringers are said to influence healing and growth. In some cultures, they’ve been credited with ending famines by rejuvenating harvests, and saving the innocent from the grasp of Malek and his Death.”

“Wicked,” Ridoc appraises quietly.

“Aha.” Violet produces a thin volume, cracking it open to the right page. The illustration there looks uncannily like you.

“Only the purest of heart can be lifebringers, those who hold no malice toward their fellow man. The weapons they carry are sharp, but unused,” she reads aloud. “Garrick gave you Failsafe as just that — a failsafe. You never drew blood with it. You never hurt anyone except in challenges, when it was kill or be killed, and even then you held back.”

Bodhi speaks next. “With most signets, the stronger the wielder’s emotion, the more powerful the ability becomes. You feel empathy for the wounded, so you can fix them and ease their pain, but when you thought Garrick was going to die, that was another level of distress, and I guess it was enough to overcome the dark magic.” 

Garrick squeezes your shoulder in reassurance that he’s still very much alive beside you.

Violet closes the book, setting it down.

“I’m not in pain anymore,” you whisper, still dazed. You’ve almost forgotten what that feels like, having spent the last three years holding both your own and that of all your friends.

“You needed an outlet,” Xaden says. “Pain makes it harder to channel, and you were in pain 24/7, which is why the professors thought your signet was underdeveloped. Getting angry, and getting that energy out of your body allowed you to use the full extent of your power.”

“If I had known this earlier, do you think I could have…” you don’t finish the sentence. Everyone in this room knows how hard you’d tried to save Liam.

“Maybe,” Violet says quietly, “but that is not a path you want to go down. Trust me.”

———————————————————————

“Do you want to explain why the hallway was full of sunflowers when I went to bed last night?” Xaden asks slyly, dropping into a seat in front of you with a plate of eggs and bacon.

You burn with embarrassment.

Bodhi grins. “You see, cousin, when a man and a woman love each other very much, - ow, fuck!” He exclaims, rubbing the back of his head where Garrick had whacked him.

“At least they didn’t set the vale on fire,” another of your squadmates says, looking at Xaden and Violet pointedly. “You still owe me for putting that out, by the way.”

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. “So all that dry lightning last year was you two…”

“Okay, changing the subject!” Brennan says loudly, not liking the way this conversation is headed. “We need to figure out how to use your signet without endangering Tavis’s life again.”

“Well, it sounds like they already found another way,” Ridoc says, grinning, but he squeaks out an apology as Garrick begins to rise from his chair.

You tug your boyfriend back into his seat by the sleeve, looking past him at Brennan. “I think I need to work a few days in the infirmary between flights,” you propose. “If I build up enough pain, I could probably-“

“NO,” the whole squad says at once, Tab included.

“Your healing is only to be used when absolutely necessary,” Xaden orders, and even though you’re on equal footing now, both newly-minted Lieutenants, you agree quietly without protest.

“See, that’s your problem,” Sloane says, and all eyes turn to her. “You defer to literally everyone. You’re an officer now. Act like it.”

“Pardon?” You ask, looking at her in disbelief.

“That’s exactly what she’s talking about,” Imogen cuts in. “Pardon? You can’t even discipline a first-year cadet. Do you really think any veteran rider will ever listen to what you have to say?”

“Enough,” you say firmly, your nails digging into the wood.

None of your friends intervene, not even Brennan. This has to be another nightmare. There’s no way they'd hang you out to dry like this. Right?

Sloane isn’t finished. “It’s a miracle you made it out of Basgiath alive. You’re too soft. If you won’t kill anyone, what are you going to do when it’s between your life or someone else’s? Their life or his?”

The mention of Garrick is your last straw. “That is enough from both of you, Cadets,” you reprimand. Thorny vines burst from the seams of the table, whipping out toward them, and they stagger back to avoid being cut.

You startle, your heart pounding against your ribs as you realize what you’ve done.

Sloane is the first to apologize. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean any of it. I just thought that provoking you might…” she doesn’t finish the sentence, looking down at the still-twitching vines covering the tabletop.

“We definitely took it too far,” Imogen adds, sounding genuinely remorseful. “That was a really fucked up thing for me to say. I’m sorry.”

Bodhi waves a hand, and the vines slither back into the table, as if they were never there. 

Your eyes widen at the blood on his cheeks — he’d been caught in the crossfire. You touch his face with a shaky hand, only brushing your fingertips across the skin, and the scratches disappear instantly, leaving no trace of the harm you’d done.

Somehow that makes you feel worse.

“Well,” Garrick says in his section-leader voice, “that was certainly informative, but none of you are to ever disrespect her like that again. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” both girls answer quietly, heads lowered in shame.

Your breathing has steadied enough to speak. “I understand why you did that, but I’m not going to tell you that it was okay, because it wasn’t.”

With that, you take your plate and leave. Nobody follows you.

———————————————————————

The balcony door slides open, soft footsteps approaching.

“I want to be alone, Gare,” you say quietly. 

“Not Garrick,” Xaden replies, settling down next to you on the stone floor, “and you may want to be alone right now, but you probably shouldn’t be.”

“I didn't mean to hurt anyone, Xay. You know that,” you whisper. You don’t move your gaze from the potted plant in front of you, as if you’re worried it will lash out at you — or him — if you turn away.

“I know, angel. I know.” He exhales deeply, a gentle cloud forming with the warmth of his breath. 

There’s a moment of quiet before he speaks again, just the sound of the cold wind over the valley and the distant footsteps of cadets running on the trail below. “Working through this is not going to be easy, but if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

You’ve come to hate that notion, everyone’s insistence that the pain you’ve been through has primed you for more pain, different pain. Why can’t it ever end?

#garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing reader insert #garrick tavis #fourth wing #reader insert #imagine

[lovebotmo]

like the movies

chapter three - caramel creams

series masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 2311

author's note: omg ive been feeling stuck working on this chapter for days so thanks for your patience and as always, hope you like this next chapter. so so thankful for all of you who have commented on my previous chapters!!!!!!!!! kiss kiss

i've also started a taglist so message me if you want to be included!!

song inspiration: you're here that's the thing by beabadoobee

A week had passed, and you still knew diddly-squat regarding the mysterious guy who had generously sent you the bouquet of moly blossoms and the adjoining note. Glances over classmate’s shoulders to peer at their handwriting were unfruitful and almost landed you in detention when McGonagall had noted your lack of attention in Transfiguration. Whoever your secret admirer was, he had made sure to cover his tracks and frustratingly stump you. No additional clue found its way to you, and no one came forward.

You’d even gone to Professor Sprout earlier in the week to inquire about her moly plants and determine if your mystery man had procured the flowers from her, or alternatively, stolen them. She’d answered in the negative to both—no one had come to her regarding your bouquet, and she wasn’t missing any stock. However, she did echo the sentiment you and Hermione had shared, that whoever he was, he had spent a great deal of money to impress you.

You rolled over in bed to peer at the blooms decorating your bedside. They were still darling as ever. However, they were a constant reminder you had no clue as to who had sent them.

If the guy really fancied me, he’d know this must be driving me mad.

You pulled the covers over your head, groaning, before resolving to go down to breakfast in the Great Hall. Your little quandary wasn’t going to be solved anytime soon, and your stomach shouldn’t suffer for it.

Joining your friends in the Great Hall, Ginny noticed you were a little quieter than normal. “You alright there, Y/n?” Breaking your reverie, you smiled at the red-headed Weasley before stuffing a piece of jam-smothered toast into your mouth.

Your muffled and somewhat undiscernible reply of “’M all good, thanks” was met with a laugh from Ginny and a scolding from Hermione to slow down while eating.

“I’ve got to hurry, ‘Mione,” you said between bites, “otherwise I’ll be late for the Hogsmeade trip. Need to clear my mind for a bit.” Hermione watched in horror at the speed with which you downed the toast, practically throwing a napkin at you when she noticed the jam lingering in the corners of your mouth. You grinned sheepishly at her.

“Still no clue then, I reckon?” Padma asked. You just shook your head, turning to dive into some fried eggs. While you had hoped to be discreet about the whole situation, you had wanted your friends’ opinions, as well as their help, in searching for your secret admirer. However, you had no such luck and your friends were just as clueless.

“It’s kind of dreamy, don’t you think? The whole not-knowing part and the expectation of another clue or a gift. To think someone in this room sent you those lovely flowers!” Hannah seemed more excited about it than you did.

“Oh, come off it. We all know it’s killing Y/n not to know—I’ll bet you she was the kid who would shake her presents under the Christmas tree to try and figure out what they were. Maybe even peer through a hole in the wrapping paper to sneak a peek, eh?” Ginny joked, nudging your arm.

The glare you sent Ginny let her know she had hit the nail on the head.

“Can I see the note again?” asked Luna. Pulling it from your pocket, you handed it to the waifish girl, with Padma peering over her shoulder. As she handed it back, you noticed the certain degree of softness the parchment now had, caused by the countless folding, unfolding, and gentle tracing of the letters by your fingertips. You looked at it once more before tucking it back in.

“Well,” you said, rising from your seated position, “enough of that. I’ve got a date with fizzing whizzbees at Honeydukes, and I will not let you lot make me late!” Laughing, the five girls stood up to join you and began to make their way out of the Great Hall.

Upon arriving in Hogsmeade, the six of you split up to run various errands or meet other friends. Luna joined you on the trip to Honeydukes, desiring to pick up some pepper imps, which she believed would ward off nargles from settling in her hair. You just nodded at your endearing, albeit strange friend. Nodding was oftentimes the best thing to do when Luna said something particularly…off. Upon entering the candy store, you separated from the blond Ravenclaw to fulfill your particular errand.   

“Mr. Flume!” You called out to the elderly proprietor of Honeydukes. He smiled once he placed your voice. Your acquaintance with Ambrosius Flume and his wife had begun in your third year, on your very first trip to Hogsmeade. Over the years, you’d heard countless stories about the store and its fantastical sweet treats. As such, when you were finally of age, you had been extremely excited to finally visit. Upon entry, in your typical coordinated fashion, you had managed to slip on and fall due to the bat’s blood soup Neville Longbottom had managed to spill all over the checkered floor. Spotting the tears quickly forming in your eyes, courtesy of your pain and embarrassment, Mrs. Flume had helped you off the floor and fixed you a cup of hot chocolate while you amused her husband with various accounts of muggle delicacies and candies. Since then, you had made it a habit to bring him a muggle candy of some sort to try, proving that even though muggle treats had no real magic in them, they could still be magical. In turn, he would trade one of his newest treats for you to try.

Finally meeting through the frenzied crowd of Honeydukes, Mr. Flume clasped one of your hands in both of his, giving it a hearty squeeze. “How have you been, dearie? Brought me something today, did you?”

You laughed at his eagerness. “You only want me for my muggle sweets, don’t’ you? How incorrigible.”

The two of you giggled like children before you pulled out the promised sweet. This time, you had brought him a small bag of Goetze’s caramel creams, also known as bullseyes. As silly as it might seem, the candies were close to your heart, something you had enjoyed with your mother as a child, eating away at the chewy caramel outside and the sweet cream filling.

“They’re my absolute favorite, you know. And after four years of exchanging candies with you, I insist you stock them just for me. Waiting for packages from my mum to get my fix is simply too difficult.”

Mr. Flume laughed at your dramatics before pocketing the sweets. “You know how much I enjoy these little exchanges with you, poppet. I’ve got something new for you to try, straight from my little lady’s oven.” Reaching into the pocket of his worn apron, he pulled out a pastry of some sort wrapped in brown paper. “Mrs. Flume calls ‘em ‘Cheering Cherry Tarts,’ ‘spose to boost your spirit for a few hours if you can imagine that. Hope you like it.” With that, he left with an affectionate pat on your arm before going to assist some of the other customers.

Taking one bite of the pastry, you had to resist the urge to moan at how delicious it was.

If you knew one thing about Mrs. Flume, it was that the woman could cook.

Scarfing down the tart, you grabbed a box of toffees and glacial snowflakes to bring back with you. After checking out, you made your way to The Three Broomsticks where you had agreed to meet to meet up with your friends after you completed your errands.

You quickly spotted your friends within the tavern. Padma was sporting several shopping bags from Gladrags Wizardwear, while Ginny and Hannah had popped into Zonko’s to pick up some stink pellets intended for the Gryffindor first-years. Ginny was more than happy to continue the pranking tradition her older brothers had begun at Hogwarts, and Hannah was always game for a good laugh. Hermione sat quietly at the table twirling one of her new quills. At the sight you let out a small chuckle. Hermione was many things, but she was not someone to pass up on purchasing new stationary. She was practically besotted whenever she saw a fine quill.

Joining the gaggle of girls, you all went over your purchases, ordering some treats and drinks, gossiping about various happenings at Hogwarts, and just enjoying the general splendor of The Three Broomsticks and its ambience. As much as you enjoyed your classes, moments like these were what you would miss most upon your graduation in the spring. It brought a little twinge to your heart, the bittersweet thought of leaving, but you were excited for the future and to see what your dearest friends would go on to do.

Your reminiscing and get-together, however, was interrupted by increasingly loud voices from a corner table. Imagining it to be some drunkards, you turned, only to see Nott and Malfoy arguing over something that had the two Slytherins particularly heated. While you had no idea what had started their spat, it was easy to tell that Malfoy had somehow provoked Nott who became increasingly incensed. Towering over the blonde, Nott continued to spew verbal fire at him and despite his best effort to hide it, you could tell that Malfoy was intimidated.

“Chi mi piace non sono affari tuoi, Malfoy. Restane fuori!” While you didn’t understand the Italian rapidly leaving Nott’s mouth, you could tell how angry he was. As he was about to continue his verbal assault, he caught your eyes and likely the look of concern on your face. His face relaxed and his next words seemed to slip his mind. Sparing one more withering glance at Malfoy, he quickly stormed out of the tavern and conversation slowly recommenced.

“Wonder what started that little fight,” wondered Padma, picking up her glass of butterbeer.

Turning back, you shrugged, “No idea.”

The six of you left The Three Broomsticks shortly after, realizing that you would have to return to Hogwarts soon. You linked your arm with Ginny as she chatted about her intended strategies for the upcoming Quidditch season. Walking towards the train station, you noticed Nott in the distance, trekking in the opposite direction of the Hogwarts Express.

Didn’t he know that the train would be leaving soon?

Removing your arm from Ginny’s, you excused yourself. “I’ll meet you guys on the train, alright? Save me a seat.” With that, you quickly followed the retreating Slytherin.

“Don’t be late, Y/n! You can’t be losing house points this early in the year!” yelled Hermione.

When you finally caught up to Nott, he was sitting on a bench located on the path that headed towards the Shrieking Shack. He was staring into the distance, those brooding eyes of his lost in thought. Hearing the crunch of autumn leaves beneath your feet, his head swiveled towards your approaching figure. He stood in surprise before sitting again. You sat down beside him.  

Bumping his shoulder with your own, you asked, “Something on your mind, Nott? You seem a little…out of it.”

At the sound of your voice, he left out a long sigh. “No—nothing. ‘M fine.” The clipped response made you raise a brow at him. The guy was not very good at lying, even if he was a Slytherin. “And…it’s Theo. Or, I mean, you can call me Theo.” Those blue eyes returned to you, accompanied by the faintest of smiles.

“Alright then, Theo. What’s got your wand in a knot…Or should I say N-o-t-t?” You let out a small laugh, winking at him as he gave you a look somewhere between horrified and disgusted.

“I don’t even want to dignify that with a response.”

“It was right there! I had to.”

“You definitely did not.”

“Don’t you mean…did N-o-t-t?”

“Alright, that’s enough.”  He paused, before continuing, “Do you think it’s too late to request a new Potions partner? I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it through the year at this rate.”

You gasped in mock horror, lightly knocking him on the arm, “Oh please Theo, I’m a peach. You adore me.” You didn’t notice how Theo stiffened at your retort, your eyes turning to the autumn trees lining the path.

“That was quite a scene in there, you and Draco. Fighting over anything in particular?”

Theo let out a huff of hot air through his nose, “No…it’s just—Malfoy’s a fucking prat.”

A bark of laughter left you at his response. “Could have told you that in first year, Theo. Would have saved you a lot of trouble.” At that, he laughed, and you were happy to see a grin finally grace his normally stoic face.

“Now c’mon,” you said standing, “we’ve got to get going if we don’t want to miss the train. Godric knows how much trouble I’ll be in with my housemates if we don’t make it in time.”

Theo stood and joined you in walking back towards the platform, a comfortable silence falling over you two. He seemed to have snapped out of whatever funk had clouded his mind, as he was soon making small talk and a few jokes as you got closer.

Just before you boarded the train, Theo grasped your elbow gently to turn you towards him. He was at your eye level then, as you had stepped onto the first step of the express. You looked at him with questioning eyes. “Sorry, um—just wanted to say thanks.” At your furrowed brow he added, “for checking on me, I mean.”

You smiled at him. “Course. After all, what are Potions partners for?” At that, he returned your smile, his bright blue eyes crinkling a little at the edges.

Huh. Cute.

taglist: @melllinaa

#theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #slytherin boys #harry potter au #lovebotmo writing #mine #harry potter #lovebotmo #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys x reader #theo nott #theodore nott fic #theodore nott fanfic #harry potter fandom #hp fanfic #hp fanfcition #Spotify

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity; Tulips & Starlight

series masterlist

i decided to make it super fluffy and cute - to make up for the angst to come (ig thats a spoiler?? but not really). if you want more one shots for this series send me a request because this was actually so fun 😁😁

Every year, without fail, the castle halls were full to the brim with wreathes of glittering hearts and ribbons of all sorts of reds, pinks and whites. The Hogwarts student body made a huge deal of Valentines Day every year – the muggleborn students had the most fun with the aspects that made it all the more magical. Each year, Professor Dumbledore would employ a series of real life Cupids to fly about the castle shooting 'arrows of love' towards their targets for the price of five whole Galleons.

Every year you find it sickening. This year is no different.

The Great Hall is swarming with people during breakfast and flying among the swooping owls are at least thirty or so Cupids who drift above the tables, skimming people's heads with the tips of their wrinkled feet. In place of the enchanted sky in the ceiling, red hearts have been enchanted to cascade like rain fall, bursting into balls of sparkling light that falls softly onto the tables, which are decorated in the same shade rather than the traditional scarlet, emerald, navy and yellow of the House colours.

You walk into the Great Hall, followed closely by Theo and Pansy, with distain painted across your face. Theo snickers as Pansy gushes silently over the Valentines decor.

"This is disgusting." You say with a scowl as the three of you wander in behind a group of giggling second year girls. Theo's snickering turns into a full on laughter as Pansy's head whips in your direction, disbelief written on her face.

"How can you possibly hate this?" she asks with wide eyes, as if you're committing some form of treason for hating this muggle holiday. "I think it's an endearing little thing."

"At least it's only for one day, tesoro." Theodore teases sarcastically, moving away just in time to avoid your swatting hand. "Don't you want to be swooned with flowers and chocolate?"

You curse his words as you part ways to the Ravenclaw table, shooting him daggers when he speaks to you in your mind as he sits down.

I wonder...should I pay one of those ugly Cupids to shoot an arrow at Matt for you? He smirks mischievously as said boy wanders into the Great Hall, deep brown eyes immediately seeking you out before he finds his friends.

You send him a smile, that goes unnoticed by everyone but him, before shooting as many cuss words you know towards Theo, who only laughs in response.

I'll take that as a no, then. Enjoy your breakfast, tesoro. Is all he can say before you kick him from your mind with a forceful shove.

He turns to Mattheo and they begin to have a lengthy discussion, but you're not curious enough to find out what it is, more content with drowning yourself in caffeine, if only to fuel your need to survive through the day.

~∞~

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom is possibly the only room in the castle that doesn't reflect the rest of the hallways. You should be glad that it no longer looks like Saint Valentine threw up in every single crevice, but the gloomy atmosphere actually makes your mood deplete. Mattheo had been sending you secretive looks all day and you had to admit that you were curious.

He was definitely planning something; it made you nervous, butterflies fluttering anxiously in your stomach.

Professor Snape was still yet to make his dramatic entrance to the classroom; you were chatting with Hermione, Ron and Harry as you waited impatiently for the lesson to start when Harry pointed to something fluttering above your head.

It's not a Cupid. Thank Merlin. But it's still happening in front of so many people and you want the ground to swallow you whole, until you make eye contact with its sender, who was smirking into the crook of his elbow, avoiding your narrowed gaze.

Mattheo had somehow gotten some faeries to flutter about your head, silent and imposing as one by one, they made about a dozen tulips of varying shades of red, purple and yellow, appear on your desk. You bite the inside of your cheek hard to stop the smile spreading across your face, but it doesn't hinder the bright blush that floods your aching cheeks.

"What the fuck?" Ron guffaws loudly, drawing more attention to the four of you, but you ignore everyone in favour of the deep rasp of his voice that enters your mind.

Theo said it would be a hard no if I paid one of the Cupids to shoot an arrow at you. He says, voice filled with mirth.

Yes. I would've run out of this classroom and you would never see me again. You respond with sparkling eyes.

Well I'm glad I listened to him, for once. Do you like them? The flowers, I mean? He sounds almost... insecure; nervous. Two things Mattheo Riddle is not. Your expression softens.

I love them. Did you know that tulips are my favourite flower?

I asked little Weasley for some help with that one. I'm glad you like them, love. His smirk has transformed into a genuine smile as you brave looking at him amidst the sea of your peers, including the eyes of your three best friends.

Within your conversation that only took mere minutes, rather than the eternity you wished it was, the faeries flittered towards your books and rested upon your desk infront of you, bounding the fallen tulips into an intricate bouquet, bound by what looked like a string of glitter, but you knew better.

You and Hermione gasp simultaneously, along with the other girls in the near vicinity of your desk. Harry and Ron only look more baffled.

"I-is that starlight?" Mione whispers in awe as you both stare down at the faeries who grin up at you with sparkling teeth as the bright silvery light acts like a beacon amidst the darkness of the classroom. "Whoever this is has gone beyond what I thought possible for your attention."

"Yeah." you reply with glistening eyes that flick to Mattheo who looks like he's sat on the edge of his seat.

He sees it in your eyes. The emotion that neither of you have dared to voice, too scared to step even further over the line that you were already holding onto for dear life, but that grip was slipping with every passing day.

Mattheo knew then that he would gift you the world if you asked for it; he would give you anything, even something as rare and beautiful as starlight.

The rest of the day is a blur for you. You hardly notice the eyesores that are Cupids flying around like headless chickens, chasing people around the grounds. All you can think about are the Tulips wrapped up in glistening starlight that sit safely in a vase in your dorm room.

~∞~

Meet me in the Astronomy Tower – M

The lone note, that sits on your bedside table, reads. It was not there when you returned from dinner earlier, so it had appeared during the time you've spent in the company of your friends since then.

The day is almost over, the Grandfather clock in the common room is distantly chiming that it is eleven at night, marking one more hour of the day.

You had woken up in a sour mood over what you would have to endure from overbearing couples and lovesick idiots all day. But you had been pleasantly surprised by just how thoughtful Mattheo had been.

And you were not expecting it at all.

Mattheo Riddle who portrayed this persona of pure evil, stoicism and nonchalance to the world had gone above and beyond your expectations of Valentines Day and turned it into something truely magical.

You turn to look at your chest of drawers, where the tulips rest in a glass vase, starlight pooling around them, and into the air, casting a pleasant glow around your room. You had quickly discovered that he had also charmed the tulips to last forever. So they would never die; symbolic true love forever bathed in breathtaking starlight that was bestowed upon the bouquet like faery dust infront of your very eyes.

Quickly you changed into presentable, but comfortable clothes: Black flared leggings and you covered your cold arms with a fluffy jumper that cropped just above your belly button shoving on a pair of dark trainers before you made the short journey out of the Ravenclaw common room towards the neighbouring Astronomy tower.

It only took you ten slow minutes to sneak across corridors, silently praying the Filch and Mrs. Norris didn't turn the corners when you did. But you got to the Astronomy tower without a hitch and descended the steep staircase, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself at the bite of the cold.

"You came." his voice is a soft caress against the wind and you find yourself immediately wrapped up in his strong arms.

"Of course, I did." you mumble into his chest, hugging him tighter as a gust of wind circles the two of you. "I've been thinking about you all day."

"Have you now?" He asks with a smirk that turns into a startled chuckle as you shove against his chest with a laugh of your own.

It's only when you step out of his embrace that you see what he had planned. Your mouth gapes as you take in the scene in front of you.

Set up in the centre of the open room, surrounded by telescope's and magical orreries, is a red and white gingham picnic blanket surrounded by dazzling balls of light that cascade down the stone walls like fairy lights. There are candles dotted about the room, casting a warm glow.

"Matt-" you start but the feeling of his chest pressing into your back has your voice quieting as he presses languid kisses to your exposed neck. You sigh as you relax into his hold. "How long did this take you?"

"Not long. Pansy helped me with the decorations while I got food from the kitchens. Dobby heard your name and went all out." he chuckles quietly as he gently guides you towards the blanket, where a dark brown picnic basket sits among a series of long candlesticks.

"It looks lovely." you say as you move to sit down, Mattheo following closely behind.

Your thigh presses against his as he reaches into the basket, pulling out a bottle of sparkling wine. You smile as he turns to you with a cheeky grin.

"Ready to be wined and dined, sweetheart?" he asks with a smirk as he pops the cork and pours both of you a generous amount. Your smile gives way to a delightful giggle as you clink your glasses together, pulling out a series of food that Dobby had generously prepared for the two of you.

~∞~

"How did you manage to plan all this? From the tulips to the starlight to...to this? It's all so perfect." you ask as you take a bit out of a chocolate covered strawberry.

"Well...Weasley told me about your favourite flowers and their meaning and I figured out how to bargain with the faeries from the forest for the starlight."

"How?" you were intrigued.

"That's my secret, love." he teases. "I'm not allowed to say."

"Not even to me?" you pout and he laughs as he takes a bit out of the pumpkin pasty on his plate.

"Not even you. I can't break a faerie's promise. You know that."

You could reason with that, you supposed. Faerie promises were sacred in the wizarding world.

"I think this is our first real date." you say contently, as you lean back on your elbows, staring at the side of his chiselled face.

"It is, isn't it." he says, nodding his head. One of his hands rests idly against your thigh, thumb occasionally stroking against the fabric of your leggings. "Well I must say, I don't think you'll ever top this."

You let out a loud laugh at his arrogance that has Mattheo swooning as he stares at you.

"What?" you ask, face wide with a smile as you reach up to brush your hands against your mouth. "Do I have something on my face?"

He leans in closer, voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah, you have an eyelash right here-" he reaches his hand to brush away the stray lash that had fallen onto your cheek but before he does, he presses a searing kiss to your lips.

Momentarily stunned, you react a second late before you wrap your arms around his neck, letting him lay you across the gingham blanket. He smiles against your lips and you can't help but lick at the seam of them until he lets you explore his mouth with your tongue, groaning as he grinds his hips against your's.

The peaceful atmosphere is disrupted by the incessant flapping of wings that has you detaching your lips from his. Looking around curiously you spot the intruder floating around in your peripheral.

"I thought I made it clear that I abhored the idea of a Cupid shooting an arrow at us." you say with a huff as the angel like creature lines up it's bow and arrow. To his credit, Mattheo actually looks confused as he swivels his head in the direction you're looking in.

"I- I didn't-" he pauses before shooting a scathing look towards the door. "Fucking Theodore thinks he's so funny."

The Cupid's arrow makes it's mark and all you feel is a pinch, no less painful than a pin prick, before the loud laughter of your friend is heard from behind the door. You'd find it hillarious if it was anyone else, but not while you were having such an intimate moment.

Mattheo looks about ready to maim his best friend, but you stop him by wrapping your legs around his hips.

"Leave it, Théo. He's just being a dick because he's got no Valentine this year." you say, making your voice louder so that Theo can hear you clearly. You hear his receding footsteps along with his echoing laughter that has Mattheo easing up, but he's clearly speaking to Theo as there's a clouded look in his raging onyx eyes.

"Sorry love." he says as he presses kisses down your neck, reaching for the hem of your jumper that is quickly discarded. You look up at him with an expression that has him melting into you instantly. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but something was stopping you; you knew it was irrational, knew that he felt the same way about you.

But you wanted to tell him when the time was right, and no matter how perfect, you knew that this wasn't that moment. You were content in bathing in his otherworldly presence, pressing kisses to his mouth, nose, cheeks and neck as he worshipped you under the stars.

Your time together was a reprieve from everything happening around you; there was a darkness looming about the castle, but in Mattheo's arms you felt infinitely safe.

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @benwadsworthsgf @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18 @moni-cah @taylorann2013 @unstablereader @gisellesprettylies @nat1221

#mattheo riddle x reader #serendipity series #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #fluff #valentines day #drabble

[himegureisu]

The Howler

Summary: Your husband, Severus, receives a Howler from you.

A/N: This prompt randomly passed through my brain. I thought it would be nice. It did take a day or two to write but here it is! I hope you like it, this is the first time I'm writing for Severus x Reader.

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

In the Great Hall, the breakfast banquet was served. Their students eagerly chattered among friends over good food and drink before classes. On the other hand at the High Table, small talk and occasional personal questions were exchanged.

That’s until the owls, in turn, the mail, came for the day.

Their tiny but sturdy claws carried various packages from letters, gifts, newspapers, and journal subscriptions. Among them, one particular barn owl was heading straight toward the High Table holding a distinct red letter.

From afar, Severus could see the owl, ignoring the House Tables, and coming straight for him. It wasn’t his owl. No, it was your owl. If it was your owl then…

“Oh dear,” Severus said,

By his side, Minerva, who was perusing her copy of the Wizarding World News stopped, to glance at him as the owl dropped the angry red letter above his plate.

“Severus,” she asked, the attention of other professors turned to him, “Is that a Howler?”

“Who would send our dear Severus a Howler?” Filius asked after,

You. His wife. Would send a Howler. You, who were undeniably cross after being forgotten.

Your owl chirped, Severus presented to her a treat, which she happily accepted before flying off. He stared at the Howler mentally preparing for the reprimand about to happen when Dumbledore said.

“Well go on, Severus, open it,” he urged, “I heard it is unwise to leave Howlers unanswered,”

So, he did.

“Severus Tobias Snape!” your voice echoed throughout the Hall, the student's attention on him, “You forgot about the move! I reminded you a thousand times when it was, and you still didn’t come.”

This time the Great Hall was quiet. Their attention focused on the tirade given to their most hated professor.

Let’s just say he wanted to die then and there.

“I know you hate handing your classes off to someone else, but I at least thought you’d make an exception for me!” you shouted at him in mind, “I moved across the continent for god sake! Do you know how much stuff I had? No! Do you know hard it was to transport all my boxes into the Manor? No! It was hard and that was with magic already. The only good thing you did was leaving the portkey because if you didn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to enter the damned Manor and would be standing outside of it looking like a fool!”

The Howler paused.

“I love you but if you don’t come home tonight to help me unpack, you’re going to find yourself locked out of your own house.”

The Howler combusted thereafter.

His colleagues were in shock at the message conveyed. His students stared in a mix of horror, amusement, and curiosity. On the other hand, he was so screwed. His composure slowly faltered upon deliberating what to do and quickly decided on the appropriate course of action.

To go home to you.

“If you’d excuse me for the day, Professor,” Severus addressed Dumbledore, standing up from his seat, “I need to make it up to someone,”

“You can take the rest of the week off, Severus,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling in wonder, “It seems you have some groveling to do,”

“That I do, Professor,” he answered, walking away then sighing, “That I do,”

Part 2 is up 💖

#severus snape #severus snape x reader #hp #harry potter #severus snape fanfiction #snape #professor snape #hogwarts #fanfiction #snape x you #severus snape x you

[crushedgraham]

18+ request: in modern/au, fem!reader and Alcina are married and she's a college professor and she's on a zoom call and reader tries to break her composure, like eating her out underneath her desk?

thank you!!!

Getting that A

Pairings: Alcina Dimitrescu x Fem!Reader

Summary: Alcina seems stressed, so much paperwork and now a lecture over zoom? It only seems right as her wife to try and lighten her load - on your knees.

Warnings: Roleplaying, a little degradation, exhibitionism, Modern AU

There are very few people who would willingly listen to two hours worth of art history, but when the lessons were taught by your goddess of a wife? Suddenly it didn’t seem so bad. Maybe it was the way the vocabulary rolled off her silver tongue or perhaps the designer glasses that sat perched perfectly on the ridge of her angular nose. You couldn’t care for the reason, all you knew was that you were married to the sexiest professor in all of Romania (possibly the world) and she was missing from her rightful spot between your thighs. 

Your knuckles knocked quickly against the deep mahogany wood of Alcina’s office door, followed by a distant “Come in.”

Pushing open the heavy door, your eyes immediately fixate on Alcina’s powerful figure sitting behind her desk. You shoo the lustful thoughts away as you note the stacks of paper scattered across the desk along with a pale finger rubbing at her brow bone - a habit you’ve come to know when your wife is particularly stressed.

“Draga? Is everything alright?” You’re snapped out of your own little world by weary blue eyes searching yours.

“Hm? Oh yeah, I brought your lunch up since you skipped breakfast.”

She resumes her incessant scribbling as you gently rearrange a few papers to make room for the tray. “How sweet of you, my love. Thank you.”

Though she made no move to react any further, her eyes remained glued to the documents. Taking this as a challenge, you saunter around the desk until you're by your wife’s side. Your hands glide along the neatly rolled sleeves that cling just enough to her forearms, up to her tense shoulders where your fingers press into a tight knot at the base of her neck. Alcina’s reaction is immediate, her hand stilling, her long eyelashes fluttering shut and the sinfully low groan that rumbles deep from within her chest. 

“You’ve been working so hard, take a break, baby.” Your breath tickles the shell of her ear and you punctuate the end of your sentence with a nip at her earlobe. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, I have a zoom lesson in five minutes.” Her tone is threatening but all it does is make you want her more. 

Alcina was a very experimental woman and that extended into your sex life. There was a particular kink that you knew she had that had been untouched for quite some time. This was quite a fitting situation to strike at it.

“I’m sure I could help you de-stress and listen to the lecture at the same time, professor.”

Her eyes meet yours, silently asking if this is what she thought it was, all you offer is a cheeky grin as you kneel like a saint at the feet of their goddess - you were always ready to worship your lady. 

“Let me help you, professor, please?” 

The space underneath her desk is slightly larger than an average sized desk because Alcina was anything but average. From this angle, she got a wonderful view of your cleavage that your tight dress top did little to conceal. She might not outwardly express it but the dilation of her pupils was all the encouragement you needed to nuzzle your cheek against the cold metal of her belt buckle - your hands groping and squeezing the strong muscle of her thighs. 

Alcina tuts at your neediness, “Such a slut. Well go on, prove yourself useful and I just might let you pass.” She goes back to work, now clicking away at her computer to get the zoom meeting ready. 

You unbuckle her belt with vigor, dropping it on the floor with a soft thud when it makes contact with the plush rug that aids your exposed knees that will surely bruise after this. The button on her suit pants is stubborn and takes a bit of cautioned yanking that earns you a glare but you undo it nonetheless. You tug the pants down just below her knee caps, revealing her lacy black underwear. Alcina spares you one last glance before clicking the “start meeting” button, students knowing your wifes strict rule of punctuality, begin flooding into the meeting.

The heady smell of her arousal mixed with the accents of her perfume and cigarettes mix to create an aphrodisiac that only you would ever witness. Shuffling forward, you press your tongue flat against the wet patch that stains the center of her underwear. The faint taste adds to the burning heat between your own thighs. Hungry for more, you yank the delicate lace to the side - a moan nearly slipping out from your lips as the sight of Alcina’s puffy, wet pussy is on full display for you. 

Her voice, deepened by her lust, begins the lecture but it sounds worlds away to you. Your wife is notorious for her powerful voice, which is just as commanding and boisterous in bed. And as much as you’d love to make her scream your name - you didn’t want the undeserving students in the call to witness what solely belongs to you. To avoid this, you begin by slowly cleaning the insides of her thighs where her slick has collected. Your tongue trails up the sides of her cunt, narrowly missing her soaked folds. Alcina glares down at you over the rim of her half-moon glasses, her nostrils flaring from the teasing that she couldn’t stop you from carrying out. 

But for both your sanities, you finally relent. Pressing your tongue against her swollen clit draws a shaky exhale through her nose and a feather light whimper from yourself. Your tongue stays there, drawing little circles before dipping down to taste her straight from the source. Above you, Alcina digs her manicured nails into the top of her desk in an effort to keep her tone even. Yet when you stuff your tongue inside her, her composure quickly begins to crack. Her velvety walls clench against your slick muscle as you work it in and out of her needy slit, her body twitching as the tip of your tongue presses against the spongey little spot inside her that you know all too well. 

Alcina quickly asks a question, allowing one of her students to answer, giving her a brief moment to focus on your motions. Her hand sneaks down to thread between your locks, her grip is tight and the sharp points of her nails scrape against your scalp ever so slightly. The added pressure to your head pushes your face further into her pussy, your nose now rubbing just right against her clit. The new friction against her clit mixed with the scandalous situation sends her to the brink of cumming embarrassingly fast. A large black pump gets thrown over your shoulder, the heel digging into your shoulder blade. The burn from both the heel and her nails along with your own arousal that drips from underneath your skirt encourages you to ignore the aching in your jaw and fuck your wifes dripping cunt faster. 

“I apologize but a family emergency has c-come up. I will pick up from where we ended next week.” Her rushed excuse doesn’t register in your head but the obscenely loud moan after she ends the meeting does. 

You get one last thrust in before her walls start twitching, constricting your tongue - forcing you to helplessly take the coating and gushing of cum. It clings to your tongue as you pull it out from her pulsing cunt, taking a long pause to enjoy the taste as it slides down your throat when you swallow. 

“So professor, how was that? Surely A plus worthy.” You question smugly.

Alcina rests her head back against the leather headrest of her plush office chair, her eyes shut as she basks in the afterglow of her orgasm.

“Perhaps a B minus at best.”

An offended and quite appalled gasp rips from your drenched lips as you stare incredulously at her. She opens one eye to look down at you, her face completely neutral before she cracks a grin, little giggles tumbling out before they turn into full laughs.

“Joking, darling! I can’t help myself when you react so adorably.” She rolls her chair back to give you enough space to lift you up into her lap. You refuse to look at her, your bottom lip pushed out in a pout and your arms crossed securely over your chest. 

“Oh? Is my little dove upset with me? What a shame, I only give rewards to those who don’t pout and ignore their amazing wives.” Alcina noses along the curve of your neck, red lips passing the color of her expensive lipstick onto your skin. Her fingers deftly reach under your skirt to trace your cunt through your thoroughly soaked panties. 

“I- I want a-an A..!” You whine out. 

Watching Alcina unravel so beautifully nearly brought you to your own orgasm, untouched. Still, you were turned on and your sensitivity was cranked all the way up. A throaty chuckle reverberates against your skin. 

“And you got your A, Dragul meu.” She rises to press her lips against yours in a slow kiss, she invades your mouth, moaning into the kiss at the taste of herself. Though the moment is broken when the sound of the front door opening followed by the loud bickering of your three daughters echoes into the large office. You drop your head onto Alcina’s chest with a groan.

“I didn’t even get to cum…”

“We both need a shower, perhaps I could give you your reward there.”

That was all you needed before you were booking it to your bathroom connected to your bedroom. Alcina shaking her head in amusement at your antics while redressing.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitriscu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village