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whyareyouhere66 · 8 months

Note

I feel like it’s been forever since a new Harry Potter fic was written, so I’m here to request(if u feel like writing it ofc<3)!

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Male!reader where reader likes to admire him from the background, but word gets out that they have a crush on him. Reader gets picked on for it because “why would Draco Malfoy of all people go for a Hufflepuff boy?”. U can choose what direction it goes in 👀 (unless you want me be more direct then I can add on to it!)

Yes! I’m here for it- hope you enjoy <3

Also, prefacing this by saying I don’t at all like Rowling or support her bullshit, this is just a cute request id like to do

CW: teasing directed towards reader, reader is like half an inch shorter than Draco (something like that, just for context) unedited (I’ll do it soon I promise) and makeout scene (spoilersssss uh oh)

Sound booms across the length of the long walls, the bustling Great Hall full of kids across grades eating their meals. Chicken, mashed potatoes, loafs spread out in baskets, it’s like a thanksgiving meal.

The sun, high in the sky, shines through the tall windows and creates a natural light to outshine the various floating candles. Down at one of the various tables, the Hufflepuff children sit at the wooden table and talk.

“I don’t think he understood the assignment, either.”

“He’s the one who wrote it!”

“Exactly the issue-“

Y/n, accompanied by F/n, sits across from another group at the decorated table. A yellow and black scarf sits loosely around his s/c shoulders, a few rings wrapped around his fingers. He takes another bite from his plate, listening to F/n and another student bicker quietly- the slightest pull of a smile rising on his lips.

“You guys still talking about Snape?” He asks, eyeing the two. They both nod.

“He’s so grumpy all the time, Y/n,” F/n complains, jutting his chin towards the stone faced man across the room. Y/n chuckles and shakes his head.

“Snape always knows what he’s doing.” He says, planning to check out of the conversation when words of disagreement are thrown his way.

Y/n moves to keep watching his friends- but his eyes flicker.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the platinum blonde hair his eyes always seem to catch. And suddenly, his friends’ words are but mush against his ears.

Draco sits at the Slytherin table, green banners hanging above his head just like the yellow ones above Y/n’s.

He has a normal scowl, that would dull anyone else’s face if it weren’t his. As his friends continue to talk, though, his eyebrow lifts and a smooth smirk almost replaces it.

And oh, how pretty his lips are.

Y/n wishes he could hide the thoughts as they ring in his head, wishing his small smile wasn’t such a giveaway.

“Y/n? Did we lose you again?” The girl across the table asks, bangs falling into her face. Grace, is her name.

“Yeah, you look distracted.” F/n snickers, nudging Y/n’s elbow because unlike the others, he knows exactly where his best friend’s gaze is lingering.

Blood rushes to Y/n’s face, realizing how obvious he had been just now.

“I’m fine.” He insists, elbowing F/n right back. The others shrug it off, not noticing how one last glance is shot towards Draco.

Lunch is closer to wrapping up when Y/n notices the time- 1:48.

“Oh, wait-“ he looks over at F/n. “Man, we gotta go-“

At this, the boy looks at the time and nods. They both grab their things, wishing goodbye to their friends- Ms. McGonagall would be expecting a finished project in the next hour.

They weave through the students crowded around tables, holding their bags close to their hips to take less room. Getting out early gets them more time, though their project was nearly done anyways Ms. McGonagall really talked this one up.

Stepping out through the giant wooden doors, Y/n breathes out.

“Alright, you have the-“ his words are cut short when someone steps into his path.

Looking up, he finds 3 people standing in front of him, having bumped into the first one. They’re all from Slytherin.

“Sorry, didn’t see you.” He tries to step around them, but the boy in front recognizes him and suddenly seems very interested.

“Wait a minute,” he steps in front of Y/n again, “Y/n.” His name on this strange boy’s tongue doesn’t sound like a question, honestly it feels threatening. Y/n furrows his eyebrows, and steps back.

“Uh, yeah?” There’s an intimidating look in the Slytherin boy’s eye- one that not even his friends know the reason for. They, as well as F/n, watch curiously.

“Aren’t you that Hufflepuff that has a crush on Malfoy?”

What.

Y/n’s heart stops, his eyes widen. Who is this kid?

“Huh?”

“Oh don’t think I haven’t seen anything,” confidence seems to build in the boys voice, the look on Y/n’s face coming as confirmation for his words. “You’re always making puppy eyes at him- oh, I so knew it!”

The excitement in this boy’s voice is strange- was he betting on this? Does he not realize how creepy that feels?

“Wait, slow down,” one of the Slytherin’s step forward, wrapping her head around the news, “you like Malfoy? Really?”

Y/n doesn’t like the tone of her voice.

“A Hufflepuff? Liking Malfoy?” She scoffs, “oh please.”

Y/n feels too exposed, like he’s suddenly being poked and prodded from under a microscope.

How had they found out?

Who else knows?

He looks at F/n, eyes screaming for help. Another minute here, when kids could walk around the corner at any moment, hear his secret slowly leaking from the safety of his own self, and he might explode.

“You guys are on something strong, aren’t you?” F/n swoops in, trying to play it off and Y/n makes a mental note to remind the boy how grateful he is for him in a moment.

“Quit projecting, will you? Pathetic, really.” F/n says, though avoids any eye contact with the three. He shoves Y/n’s shoulder, who stumbles, and leads him away as quickly as possible.

By the time they get to the library, Y/n’s head is already swimming, mainly from embarrassment.

He never wanted anyone to know- he still doesn’t want that. This little “crush” was supposed to stay between him and F/n, for that was the only person he ever trusted to carry it.

But now? With some smug Slytherin boy walking around with his feelings cupped in the palm of his hand? Y/n’s lost his safety rail. Now, his feelings are vulnerable, ready to be spilled to Draco at any second.

Two hands hold his shoulders firmly, he recognizes them as F/n’s. No surprise, considering there’s barely any one else in the library right now. Y/n’s eyes dart to meet his.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks, and it takes an extra moment for the e/c eyed boy to come up with an answer.

“I think so.” He says, nodding. F/n copies the gesture.

“Good, that’s good. I’m sure not that many people know, ok?” He reassures Y/n, who’s grateful for the words as they bring back some stability.

“Right.”

Now that he’s out of that boys uncomfortable gaze, he doesn’t feel as panicked as he did before. More so, unsettled.

“Right, yeah, uh- let’s get back to the project.” With the nod of his head, and one last look, F/n is agreeing. The two boys sit down at one of the many tables, between two tall bookshelves.

‘Maybe it’s ok,’ Y/n thinks to himself, ‘not that many people know.’

You realize now, that you spoke too soon.

The next day comes, and you’re now standing in the bathroom wasting away time that’s supposed to be spent in Snape’s potions class. It’s empty, aside from you of course, nothing but the sound of a running faucet.

It’s so quiet that when the door creaks open, people stepping inside, your head snaps to the side, startled.

It’s two boys, both from Gryffindor, named Avery and Jaxon and you immediately recognize them from a few classes. You turn back to the sink.

Neither of them look at you, instead disappearing into two of the stalls.

By the time they’re both out of the stalls, you’re washing the final suds from your hands. From the mirror, you see their faces change, realizing who you are.

The air becomes unnecessarily tense, you’re unsure why, both of the boys are trying to pretend otherwise.

Avery and Jax glance at each other, walking to the sinks. And it’s not until Avery decides to speak, that the silence is again broken.

“Hey, um-“ you look at him, “I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but…” he looks hesitant to speak, like what he say might come off as offensive, something sensitive. Your curiosity only grows.

“Is it true, that you and Draco are dating?”

You nearly choke.

“What?” You asks, hating that this is the 2nd time Draco has been brought up to you.

“I mean, I heard that-“ Avery seems to notice the growing worry plastered on your face- it’s spreading. Your secret is spreading.

“Oh,” Avery begins to realize, “sorry, Y/n, that was a bit invasive.” His tone is calm, only slightly uncomfortable. Pretty much the opposite to you- itching to drop the conversation. But, you keep a calm face, shoving the gross feelings down.

“No it’s fine, um, why?” You can only hope your voice doesn’t give everything away.

“Oh, I just thought I heard a couple Slytherin kids talking about it.” Again, his voice feels too nonchalant. “Guess I was wrong.”

“Oh.” The slightest shake. Unlike Avery, though, Jax still seems interested.

“Wait- do you like him though?” This results in an elbow to rib, and Avery looks at him like a mother scolding their child.

“Ow!-“ Jax grunts, glaring yet ignoring the hint, “I’m just asking. You know about the Slytherins and Huffs’.”

“They just…” his eyes dart right back to yours, “they just don’t go together, man.” You hate the way he says it- hate how it feels like you’re being scolded, looked down on. Looking down at the yellow and black robes draped across your shoulder, you avoid Jaxon’s gaze.

Which, in hindsight, gives enough of an answer.

The two Gryffindors shuffle out of the bathroom, and immediately you let out a groan.

You’re fucked.

Hands run down your face in exasperation- this wasn’t supposed to get out. Draco probably knows now, people think that you’re dating.

The unusually large bathroom echoes mumbled curses back to you, silence so eery it feels haunting. You feel yourself beginning to doubt if you should even return to potions class- knowing Draco is sitting at the desk a few feet from yours.

“They just don’t go together, man…”

“A Hufflepuff? Liking Malfoy? Oh, please…”

Another sigh.

You feel your fingers pressing into your eyelids, passing over your temples and the wrinkles above your nose.

‘He’s gonna hate me’

Such a childish thought, but once it appeared you felt a sickening feeling in your chest because how you wish he doesn’t.

Outside, footsteps echo in the hallway.

And Draco himself, walks down the corridor towards the boy’s bathroom, taking his time with the silence. It’s a much better option, compared to Snape’s incessant grumbling.

He’s been trying to think the whole day- but is only now getting the chance thanks to that little posse of his.

For hours now, whenever given the chance, his mind drifts back to the conversations from early this morning at breakfast.

“Have you heard?” Pansy leans over the table, one eyebrow raised as if she’s careful of listening ears. Though, to that she doesn’t spare a second thought.

Blaise narrows his eyes, looking at her curiously. “Heard what?” He asks, and Draco impatiently looks at her.

“What now.” The blonde already doesn’t care, Pansy always seems to find some sort of gossip across houses. But this time, she’s sending a smirk right his way.

“Some little Hufflepuff has a crush on you.”

Now, to this, Draco does perk up- and his eyes flicker in your direction for only a moment. But, he doesn’t allow himself to acknowledge it.

“Mhm.” Pansy sounds so smug in her words, satisfied as both boys lean closer to her.

“Who?” Blaise asked, the roughness behind his voice covering any curiosity.

“Y/n L/n.”

Draco looks bewildered for a second- you? He never thought it was actually you, that was only a spark of hope in a moment of weakness. He was prepared to hear the name of some random girl he hadn’t learned the name of before- but the familiar ring of your name brought satisfaction to follow the shock.

He doesn’t even try to hide the smirk that shows through. Beside him, Blaise scoffs.

“You’re joking”. He says, and Draco shoots him a glare.

“What? It’s no surprise,” he says cockily, “jealousy’s never a good look”. The meaningless comeback earns a glare and an eye roll from Blaise- and surprises Pansy.

“Draco,” she narrows her eyes, “do you like this? Him?” She gives him a once-over, checking to see if he’s serious. He is.

Draco doesn’t give a straight answer, though, instead scoffing and going back to his plate.

“Get a life, why don’t you. Your gossip is boring me.” He says- but there’s the slightest pull at his lips, smiling your way.

Draco pushes open the large door, stepping inside the bathroom and immediately- his eyes land on you.

“Y/n?”

Your head snaps up, and a new feeling sinks into your stomach when you see him. You can’t tell if you wish it was someone else, or if this is perhaps what you were hoping for.

“Uh, hey.”

Draco steps closer, and you can see some sort of glint in his eyes, and you can’t quite name the warm yet uneasy feeling that follows.

“Skipping Snape’s class now, are we?” He teases in a smug voice, and your blood aches in your cheeks.

“Just taking a break-“ you don’t look at him, using a towel to wipe off your hands. You simply want to play it cool in front of him, though you’re unsure considering the past two times you seem to have failed.

“A break, hmm? I’m sure.” He says sarcastically.

Instead of picking a stall, like you expected, you watch from the corner of your eye as he approaches you and leans on one of the sinks.

“So,”

You freeze.

‘Don’t say it..’

“There seems to be a bit of a rumor spreading around.”

You visibly wince, the moment you prayed would never come has arrived. He found out- and just like the others, he knows that he could never accept a silly school crush from your house.

Turned away, you’re unable to see the smirk on his face- but you can hear it in his voice.

“Draco…” you mumble, feeling the dread of what his response is going to be. He’s closer now, you feel it- and suddenly his figure is right beside you.

“Y’know, if you wanted a date so badly you could’ve asked.”

You pause.

What?

His voice is new, because while there’s still such a teasing tone buried in the words, you notice…hope, as well.

You look at him, and notice his eyes have softened.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says, “no need to have waited so long.” He still sounds partially like he’s joking, but his fingers are creeping closer to yours by the sink’s ledge.

The pieces are starting to connect in your head- he hasn’t pushed you away, hasn’t called you any names. In fact- he’s the one getting so close.

Draco watches, examining your face. He’s starting to feel impatient, actually, feeling he’s been clear enough. He doesn’t seem to understand how confusing his words can be- how your beating heart is twisting and unraveling in your chest. He’s too preoccupied with his own churning heart.

“What’re you saying?” You finally ask, and he nearly scoffs.

“Hell, you’re real thick in the head aren’t you?”

He doesn’t even try stopping himself as his hands cup your face, and his lips are molding right into yours.

He’s so quick with it, like he’s been waiting years for this, yet so smooth at the same time. You can feel your eyes as they shoot open, only to hazily fall half closed a moment later.

His arms loop around your waist, so you were almost bent into his body. You have to take a cautionary step back just to stable yourself, one hand holding his neck, it almost takes you too long to realize he is kissing you.

‘Holy shit, holy shit holy shit holy shit-‘ your mind races, and it feels like only half of it is functioning. Part of you is swimming, the other half melting into his arms because oh how long have you been waiting to feel him so close.

He’s smirking into the kiss now, breaking it into quicker, shorter kisses that mesh together to make one, long breathless one. Through the haze of his lips, your hand creeps into his hair and he wonders why he waited so long to experience this.

You tug slightly, other hand grabbing his jaw, and you pull him away.

The room is no longer silent, both of you catching your breath.

“I’ll take that as your confession, then?” You ask.

“‘Course,” he replies, “meet again after Potions?”

“Sounds good.”

[I hope you all enjoyed- I feel there’s probably more I could’ve added or something, but for now this is good. If anyone wants an add on or more or like a part two let me know!]

#Draco Malfoy #draco Malfoy x male reader #harry potter fandom #Harry Potter fandom x male reader #66 recs&replies

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hp-hcs · 5 months

Note

I just had a Crazy thought. Idk if I’ve EVER read a Ton Riddle x ftm Reader before and now I’m CURIOUS. Pls （＾ν＾）

yk, i dont think i’ve ever seen one either 🤨 which is some BULLSHIT if you ask me

ANYWAYS i have no idea what this is but yk i actually finished something so that’s pretty girlypop. also GODDAMNIT i need more tom using 40s slang

phoenix tears (chapter three of phoenix tears) — 40s! tom riddle x ftm! dumbass! granger! reader

he’s babygirl i don’t make the rules

problem solving by creating more problems, a case study by harry potter and y/n fr

glad to see all of the ftms have found my acc, i love all of y’all mwah

TWs: ‘40s era homophobia; couple of outdated homophobic slurs; i guess tom misgendering reader? but he like, doesn’t even know what being trans is so-

requests? please? i beg??

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“What’s this?” You pulled a wrinkled old book out of Harry’s trunk, sitting down on the wood floor of his dorm, crisscross applesauce.

The cover must’ve once been very fine leather, but it was now warped with water damage and age. The pages were brittle and seemed liable to disintegrate at the lightest touch. But the most prominent part of the book was that there was a charred black hole right through the center.

“Huh? Oh- Tom Riddle’s diary. His very first horcrux,” Harry glanced up at you from where he was also sat on the floor, desperately trying to organize all of the shit that was in his trunk to begin with.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Nope, not in the slightest.”

You opened the cover, the leather creaking and cracking under the slightest pressure. You were surprised to find that the diary was completely blank inside. You flipped through a few more pages; nothing. It was totally empty.

Unless Tom Riddle had only written in the center of where the odd, charred hole was. Which was, y’know, pretty unlikely.

“How’d you destroy it?”

Harry frowned to himself, trying to decide if Runes homework from two years ago should go in the keep or throw away pile. “Basilisk fang. Has Ginny seriously never told you?”

You shook your head, eyes wide. He grinned at you, handing you a stack of various important-looking documents mixed in with past homework assignments to go through, and immediately dove into his story of shallow teachers and secret chambers and blood on the walls.

You gaped at him in awe as he finished his story. “But wait- if Fawkes’ tears were all you needed to like…heal and not die, would the same work on the diary?”

Harry paused, looking up at you. “That’s…a good question.”

“Think we should try?” You asked. “Maybe Teenager Tom could talk some sense into Adult Tom?”

Harry seemed to genuinely consider it before shaking his head. “Ach, but Hermione would kill us.”

Your shoulders dropped and you frowned as you think about your sister. “But…she’s at the Burrow tonight, remember?”

“Well,” Harry said slowly, still on the fence. “If Hermione’s not around to scold us...”

~~~ “This was a terrible idea this was such a terrible fucking idea-”

The diary smoked and hissed, writhing around on the floor. The book flapped open, the pages ruffling around and fizzing.

Scrambling backwards, you clung onto Harry, praying Slughorn wouldn’t walk in. Or worse, Filch.

You’d snuck into the Potions classroom after curfew, hidden under Harry’s invisibility cloak, with the intent of finding phoenix tears. After going through Slughorn’s potion cabinet, you'd found the vial all the way in the back. Which, of course, had led to you two deciding to test your theory about the diary right then and there.

The diary suddenly made a pop noise, like someone cracking bubblegum. It then stilled all of its movement, lying open at the center of the book, when a dark liquid, ink, began seeping out from it. The ink pooled around the book, turning all of the pages black and heavy.

You mentally cursed the stain it would leave on the flagstones.

The diary then erupted with a bright light, rattling against the floor with the exertion of whatever magic it was using.

Harry pushed you back behind him, forcing you to sit down and throwing his invisibility cloak over you, then pulling out his wand. Taking an offensive stance in front of where you were hidden, he waited, every muscle in his body coiled like an animal waiting to lunge.

The light seemed to grow thicker, like honey, and started taking a corporeal form. Then just like that, the light vanished, and the form—a person, by the looks of it—crumpled on the floor in a rather undignified heap.

The person staggered to its- his feet.

Tom Riddle, you thought, holding your breath.

God, he was pretty.

He started laughing, seemingly unaware of neither you nor Harry’s existence. “O Lord and butter, now we’re cooking with gas!”

You blinked. All of that was English, but not a single word of it made sense.

How old was Tom Riddle?

Harry took a tentative step forward, hiding his wand behind his back. “Are…you alright?”

Tom whirled around, startled by the sudden voice. He looked Harry up and down appraisingly before a wild grin spread across his face. “All reet? A schnook done brought me back!” He laughed rather maniacally, eyes gleaming. “What’s your name then? I oughtta thank you.”

Harry’s lips thinned. “We’ve met before, Tom.”

Tom’s eyebrows raised. “We…have?”

Wordlessly, Harry pushed up his fringe.

Tom drew in a sharp breath. “Potter.”

“Riddle.”

“So what, you’ve brought me back to kill me again?” He sneered. “There’s no basilisk around to save you this time, Potter.”

When Tom took a step towards Harry, you gasped quietly—evidently not quietly enough though, because Tom’s head swung around towards you.

He stared straight at you. You held your breath again, praying that he’d go back to threatening Harry, or something.

Instead Tom stepped closer to you, mumbling a quiet Revelio. He smiled and leaned down, tugging the cloak off of your head.

“Well well well, what’s this? A spook?” He pulled the cloak off of you completely, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Hm. Well aren’t you a bit of a scrag, cookie?”

“I’m…sorry…?” You questioned, baffled. “I don’t speak old.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a bit plain and homely, doll,” he said with a mock-apologetic look on his face. “In the nicest way possible.”

“Aw, shucks,” you said dryly. “I was worried the genocidal maniac who’s killed a bunch of our friends might think I’m unattractive.”

He raised an eyebrow at your sarcasm, looking you up and down again. “Ah. Or are you a swish?” He asked, tilting his head. “Can’t quite tell.”

“A swish?”

“You know, a queer. One of those.”

You cringed. “Harry, make him go back in the fucking diary.”

“Did I hit a nerve, doll?” Tom asked with a smug smile.

“Not really, but I have a feeling that if I have to deal with your ancient ass any longer, you will.”

“Ooh, well ain’t you got moxie, little thing? Tell me, you a dame or a fella?”

“Ah yes, the two genders,” you mumbled under your breath, causing Harry to snort and cover his mouth with his hand. “I’m a uh…‘fella’.”

“You sure look like a gal to me.”

“Yeah, and you sure look like an asshole to me.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I see. You’re a mudblood, aren’t you?”

“Lot of sass coming from Mr. Pureblood over here.”

Tom took a striding step towards you, his teeth gritted and his fist raised.

“Wow, resorting to Muggle fighting? Wouldn’t expect that from you, Thomas Marvolo.”

His cheeks flared red with anger. “I oughtta-”

“It really sucks being made fun of for your blood status, doesn’t it?” You asked casually.

Tom paused.

He took a step back.

“All reet. I’ll admit, you got me there.”

Harry scowled. “Look, we wouldn’t have brought you back unless we had good reason. And Old You is now indiscriminately killing Muggles, which seems like a pretty fucking good reason, if you ask me.”

“Ah. Yes. That does seem to be an issue,” Tom acquiesced. “But why me?”

“We figured you could reason with Old You?” You jumped in. “Or at the very least, you’re the least corrupted; you have the most soul left.”

Tom shrewdly glanced between you and Harry, then back at you. “What do I get in return?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. What do you want?”

“Not to go back into that damned diary,” he said vehemently. “Never again.”

You glanced over at Harry. He shrugged. “We can try…?”

“Hipper dipper,” Tom replied dryly. “Where do we start?”

~~~

“Well that’s a barney old game the old coot’s been making you play, huh?”

“You’re just saying words,” Harry mumbled, resting his chin on his hand as you all sat at one of the Potions classroom tables. “Not a single part of that was comprehensible.”

“He basically just said that you’re fucked,” you shrugged. “You’ve been doomed to die since you were born. Dumbledore’s been raising you like a lamb for slaughter.”

Tom looked at you, surprised. “Well…yes.”

You rolled your eyes. “Smarter than I look, Thomas.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll stop as soon as you you stop calling me a fairy.”

He furrowed his brow. “Why’s that bother you so much?”

“It’s a fucking slur, Thomas. This ain’t the forties, or whenever you’re from; people are allowed to be gay now.”

Tom froze, eyes wide. “W-what?”

“Yup.”

“Well, cut off my leg and call me shorty,” he murmured, amazed.

“Wait’ll he finds out you’re trans,” Harry mumbled, snorting.

You elbowed him in the side, rolling your eyes.

“Trans…?” Tom questioned.

“We don’t have that much time, Thomas. Focus up.”

“Natch, all reet,” he shook his head. “Are we ready then? Plan all set?”

You nodded, a sly grin spreading across your face.

“Let’s go fuck some shit up.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

chapter four

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp #hp x male reader #x male reader #gay #x reader #tom riddle x male reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #transgender #trans reader #trans

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multific · 1 year

Text

I Noticed

Vincent de Gramont x Reader

Warnings: Mention of injury and violence, John Wick 4 spoilers

Summary: Being his sugar baby was one thing, but being in love with him was completely different.

A/N: This is a continuation of a headcanon I posted recently. Enjoy!

You couldn't believe it.

You could only look at him and now you noticed it more and more. His actions were a lot softer than in the beginning.

You recalled him spending hours at the bar, flirting with you or just looking at you, as if you were his prey, and you truly thought you were.

But now, as you watched him wearing nothing but his boxers, he slowly walked over to the bed, he was looking at his phone, scrolling as he hummed, satisfied with what he was seeing.

Before he looked up you laid down and turned on your side, your back to him.

You lay in silence as he joined you in bed.

You heard him put his phone on the nightstand as he turned the lights off.

He soon joined you in the big bad and as if it was so natural, put his arm around you, with his palm against your stomach he pulled you towards him.

His arm stayed as you felt his hot breath hit your neck.

"Good night." he whispered with that beautiful accent as he got more relaxed and soon, fell asleep.

But you couldn't. Your mind kept racing and you didn't know anymore what to think.

You could recall when he wanted you to move in with him, in the beginning, you had your own room, you still do, but only your clothes are there.

Almost eight months ago, he asked you to join his room as he wanted you close for 'When he needed you'. But even sex wasn't as big of a part of your relationship anymore as it used to be.

And even during sex, he became more gentle. While he used to be rather rough and demanding, now he was more gentle and soft.

Was he getting tired of you?

No, with his sadistic ways, you would be either dead or long gone.

If he wanted you gone, you would be gone. And yet, here he was holding you close to his chest as he slept.

Now, you noticed the small things. You recalled the small things.

Maybe and just maybe Mrs Ghandram wasn't lying. Maybe but just maybe Vincent was in love with you.

You nearly laughed out loud.

No fucking way.

Vincent? Vincent de Gramont? In love? With you?

PFFF.

No.

Probably he just got used to having you around, or the fact that he was employed to kill John Wick kept his mind busy.

Yes. It was possibly John Wick.

---

"No! PLEASE!" You ran in front of Vincent as John held the gun, pointing at his head. "Don't kill him."

"Step away." said John. "MOVE!" he yelled but you didn't, you just shielded Vincent.

"You can't kill him. I'm pregnant." you could tell John was taken aback by your statement. Of course, you were lying but you were willing to if it meant saving Vincent's life. John moved the gun again, motioning for you to move but you didn't. "You wouldn't kill a pregnant woman, would you?"

"I will kill him."

"No, you won't. Judging by your wounds you should slowly lose consciousness, Mr Baba Yaga." just as you said that John's hand started to shake. "You are free. Go now." you said as John collapsed in front of you. You grabbed the gun and threw it away.

"Look at that. My Kitten is actually pretty smart." you quickly turned around to look at him. He was bleeding from various wounds and you could tell he too, was about to faint, but thankfully not die.

The next time he woke up he was in a hospital room. A room he was probably too familiar with.

You sat right next to him in an armchair, reading a book.

"Kitten." he said with a quiet voice as he reached out to you, you moved closer, placing your hand in his. "Smart little girl you are. Telling him you were pregnant so he would bleed out. You saved me."

"I did what your two hunks of meat couldn't do." you said simply before you turned back to your book.

"What are you reading?"

"Harry Potter." he groaned, knowing how much you liked the books and the movies. "You should rest, Vincent, you need to heal."

"When did you stop calling me Daddy?"

"Three months ago, you never noticed?"

"No."

"But you notice everything."

"I noticed that you were in love with me." your head snapped at him as you locked eyes. "But you never noticed that I was in love for longer."

He fell first, but you fell harder.

"You should still rest." his hand squeezed yours.

"You have no idea how much power you hold, do you? I would burn the entire world down for you. I would go on a bigger rampage than the Baba Yaga himself, just for you to smile at me."

"Why are you saying this?"

"Because when you put yourself in between me and a gun, a gun that was held by John Wick, I wanted to push you away. I needed you safe. I rather die than have you killed."

"I saw your men dead, and while I do know you are trained, I couldn't... I needed to save you."

"You saved me a year and a half ago, mon amour." you wanted to laugh if it wasn't for the serious look in his eyes.

"Tell me please that you are lying. Tell me that this is one of your cruel plays. I can still forget it, I can still let go of the hope. Please, do not play with me like this."

"I'm not playing, Princess. I am very serious. I do love you. Did you really not notice?"

"No. It was difficult, trying to push my feelings down and hide them from you while trying not to feel guilty and bad about everything."

"You hid it very badly. Your eyes said it all. At first, I thought you liked my money, but then I found out you don't even spend it. You gave a lot to charities. To the dog shelter and the kid's hospital."

"Yeah, I thought they needed it more than I do."

"So, you never wanted my money, then it got me thinking, were you in it for the sex? Or were you just a spy to creep on me? But no. It was a shock but one evening, when I was in my office and you came in with... muffins... fucking muffins. I realized that you truly care for me. Really good muffins by the way." you smiled. "There she is. The smile I would kill for. Never stop smiling."

"Never stop giving me a reason to smile." he lifted your arm to his lips and he kissed the back of it.

"Kitten, I hope now you realize just how much you mean to me."

"I think, I always knew, deep down I must have, but I couldn't hope. The chance of you playing with me or that I was just simply stupid was too big, I couldn't risk that." you noticed how he flinched at the word stupid.

"The woman who plays the Baba Yaga himself is not stupid. Mon amour, I hope you know I stopped looking at you as my sugar baby for a long time now. You have to know that I am truthful." looking into his eyes, you could tell he wasn't lying.

"I know and we will talk about this after you heal, Vincent. Sleep please. I'll be right here." his hand squeezed yours one last time before he allowed himself to fall asleep.

You watched him sleep for a couple minutes.

"Stop staring." he said without opening his eyes.

"I'm not!"

"Don't lie to me, Kitten."

He slightly moved, now both of his hands holding yours as he fell asleep. You smiled before you returned to your book.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

Taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @l4venderia @theuncommoncorner @28cnn

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

#Vincent de Gramont x reader #Vincent de Gramont #Vincent de Gramont imagine #Vincent de Gramont imagines #Vincent de Gramont x you #Vincent de Gramont x fem reader #Vincent de Gramont scenarios #Vincent de Gramont scenario #john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick imagines #Marquis de Gramont x reader #the marquis x reader #marquis imagine #marquis imagines #the marquis

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msmoony7 · 5 months

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Dublin In Ecstasy

Summary: Y/N and her friend finally go on their long-awaited trip to Dublin. While in the local pub, she catches the attention of bassist Robert Keating.

Robert Keating x Reader Word Count: 6.2 K Content warning: NSFW!! Other than that, there should be none :)

masterlist

Today was that day that you had been looking forward to for many months. You and your best friend, Clara, had been planning a trip to Dublin as a graduation present for yourselves. The two of you graduated from NYU in May, and spent most of your years at school working various jobs in order to afford the trip. You spent months planning and doing research. Ultimately, the two of you decided to visit during New Years to experience wintertime in this new country.

The two of you shared an apartment in the Lower East Side that was pretty decently sized for the budget of two fresh college graduates. JFK was bound to be a shitshow around this time of year, so the two of you packed your things and were on your way to the airport in hopes of beating some of the chaos.

“I can’t believe this day is finally here,” Clara says as you guys begin walking out of your apartments with your luggage.

“I know. I really never thought this was gonna happen, I’m so excited,” You reply.

The two of you make it onto the street and hail a taxi to take you to the airport. The ride was about half an hour, which wasn’t too bad. The two of you checked your luggage, went through security and made your way to your terminal with around two hours left until you could board your flight.

After what felt like years of waiting, it was finally time to board the plane. You both quickly made your way to your seats.

“This all feels so real now,” You say to Clara as you two are getting settled into your seats.

“I know. I just hope this flight goes quickly.”

“I think it will. We waited years for this trip so this is gonna be a piece of cake.”

The flight attendants do their pre-flight spiel and you guys prepare for takeoff. Flights make you slightly nervous, so you’re happy that Clara is right next to you to calm your nerves. Before you know it, the plane begins to take off and you can see the city growing smaller and smaller in the night as the plane rises. Dinner is served and, of course, it’s bad. But the flight is long, so you eat some just so you have something in your stomach.

After dinner, the lights dim and you decide it’s best to get some sleep. You put on Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, a movie that you’ve seen thousands of times before, so you don’t mind falling asleep during it. You put on your eye mask and attempt to get some sleep.

You wake up and change the movie a few times throughout the night but finally, it’s morning and there’s about one hour till you land at Dublin Airport. The crew hands out breakfast, but you’re so nervous you can barely eat more than a crumb.

The plane finally lands and you and Clara can’t contain your smiles anymore.

“Holy shit we fucking made it,” she says to you as you begin to exit the plane.

“This is so surreal,” you say as the two of you stop and take a minute to take it all in as you wait for your bags. Finally, you spot your matching pink suitcases - courtesy of your parents as a graduation gift - and make way towards the taxis to take you to your hotel.

Because the two of you planned this so far in advance, you got a great deal on a two bedroom air bnb with a kitchen right in the Temple Bar area in the South bank of Central Dublin. When the two of you walk into the apartment, your jaws actually drop.

“Holy shit this is even better than the pictures,” Clara says as she drops the keys and her bags on the kitchen table.

“This is crazy. And to think this is cheaper than so many of the hotels here. We got so lucky.”

“I think I’m gonna shower quickly, then do you wanna grab lunch?”

“Yeah, I’ll shower too. I’m starving since I didn’t eat breakfast on the plane.”

Clara hops in the shower and that leaves you to explore the apartment further. You each get your own bedroom and you’ll share the bathroom in the hallway. Clara has already claimed the blue bedroom. It has a queen sized bed and guitars hung up on the wall as decor. You make your way to your room, which is painted green and has a bass hung up on the wall, also fit with a queen sized bed. In the living room, there's a small piano and all throughout the apartment there are pictures of famous European musicians. As a music lover, you appreciate these cute details.

Clara finishes her shower and you hop in. The hot water feels nice against your cool skin. It feels much colder here than back home. You make your shower quick, not wanting to waste what little time you have in Ireland. It was currently the 29th and you two planned to stay until January 5th, hoping that gave you enough time to explore what you could of Ireland.

You put on brown jeans, your favorite green sweater, white Adidas sambas, and your winter coat and quickly do your makeup before the two of you leave the apartment.

“I saw this place around the corner from here that looked cute, we should check that out for lunch,” you say to Clara while locking up the apartment.

“That sounds great, I’m starving.”

The small little cafe on the street corner offers a perfect introduction to Irish culture. The table near the window allows the both of you to people watch and absorb the Dublin fashion. You order a “Traditional Irish Breakfast,” which is made up of sausages, black and white pudding, bacon, eggs, and grilled tomatoes, while Clara got a “Dublin Coddle,” which was a dish with sausages, bacon, and potatoes cooked in a broth. You ate the majority of your meal, but weren’t a fan of the pudding. The two of you left and made your way down the street to visit all the shops down the road.

The first shop you went into was an adorable bookstore. It was small, but cozy, and you felt welcome there by the shop owner.

“What brings you ladies in today?” the short old lady asks you two.

“Oh, just looking. It’s our first day here so we’re walking around to get an idea of the area,” Clara says to her.

“Oh, that’s lovely! You two will have so much fun here, Dublin is a great city.”

“Yeah, we love it so far! Do you have any recommendations on what we should do?”

“Oh, The Temple Bar is a classic. It’s big amongst music lovers and young kids, so you’ll have a blast there. They’re doing some shows these next few nights and a huge party on New Years. If you have nothing planned, I’d recommend spending your New Years there.”

“That sounds awesome, thank you so much! It was so nice meeting you.”

The two of you mutter a final thank you and make your way out of the bookstore.

As you pass The Temple Bar, Clara asks, “What do you think of going here for dinner tonight to see what all the hype is about.”

“Yeah, that sounds great. It looked so cute when we walked by it before. I’m not too sure about New Years, though. If it’s as crazy as she says it is, I don’t even know if we’d get in.”

“Yeah, that’s true. We definitely need to go at some point though.”

Even though it’s just a few hours past noon, it looks as lively as ever. The outside is decorated with Christmas lights that are sure to be beautiful at nighttime. You two make note of the bar and continue on with the shops on the street. You go into candle shops, record stores, guitar shops, and even shoe stores to pass time. You make small talk with all the owners, who love to hear about your journey; The Irish were so nice.

It’s around four o’clock when you two finish your shopping. You bought a shot glass, a journal, and a few magnets for your family. You made a point to buy a new shot glass in every new city you visit and even though your collection is growing slightly out of hand, it continues to grow regardless. Clara got a few magnets and a shirt.

“I’m lowkey tired as hell. How about we go to the bar tomorrow night instead?”

“I was thinking the same thing. I’m sure it’ll be just as fun. We could cook dinner in the apartment tonight, I saw a grocery store a few blocks up from the place,” you reply.

The two of you make it to the grocery store and stock up on some food for the next week or so. For tonight, you two would make some pasta with garlic bread. You also grabbed some cereal, milk, eggs, bread, and cookies for the rest of the trip.

By 8 o’clock you two are finished with dinner and getting ready for bed. You get snug under your covers and set your alarm for the next morning.

—

You wake up around 9 and get ready for the day. Your routine is simple, so it doesn’t take you too long to get ready. Your everyday makeup takes you around 10 minutes to do and you quickly pick out an outfit: your black Converse, blue jeans, your favorite crewneck, which was of your favorite band, The Strokes, and your jacket on top. The two of you are out the door by 10:30 and head to another restaurant for brunch.

The two of you opted to share your meals today. You got a coffee while Clara got a tea, and you shared a cheese platter and some Irish soda bread french toast. After brunch, you two explored the area some more. You did some touristy things to kill time before you went to the bar. You visited local churches, bridges that went over the river that flows through Dublin, and some museums and art galleries in the Temple Bar area.

Around 5 o’clock, you guys got dinner at a nearby restaurant before going to Temple Bar for after dinner drinks. The line is long, but eventually you make it inside. The temperature difference was crazy compared to the outside due to how many people were inside. You hear a band playing some song that you don’t recognize and you begin making your way through the bar to find a place to sit. Luckily, you guys snag a pretty big booth and have a great view of the stage where the band is playing. Clara leaves quickly to grab you guys a drink.

You look at the four guys on the stage and are immediately infatuated by the bassist. His beauty is stunning. He has curly brown hair that is beginning to grow into a mullet, with crystal blue eyes, and oh is he tall. His bass was hung extremely low leaving you wondering how that can even be comfortable. He has black jeans on with Dr. Martens and a black button up shirt that looked like it had mermaids on it. The shirt is kind of ugly, but somehow, he makes it work.

“Earth to y/n,” Clara snapped in your face.

“What was that for?”

“I only called your name about five times already, I’ve been back with the drinks for a minute. You’re drooling over that guy, I can tell. He’s cute, but I like the singer. He kinda looks like Bono.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“To me, yeah. Maybe we’ll get lucky,” she laughs as she gives you a shoulder nudge. She sits across from you and the two of you take some pictures for your instagram because duh, when in Dublin, and begin drinking your Guinness.

“This actually tastes like shit,” you say as you wipe your mouth on a napkin.

“Yeah this is disgusting, I should’ve stuck with vodka.”

“Oh hey, it looks like they’re starting another song.”

The singer steps up to the mic and begins speaking. “Hey everyone, once again we’re Inhaler. I’m Eli, this is Ryan on the drums, Josh on Guitar, and Bobby on the bass. Thanks for coming out tonight. This last song is one of our own songs. It’s called It Won’t Always Be Like This. It’s not out right now, but keep an eye out this upcoming year. Hope you enjoy.”

The lights dim slightly and Ryan and Bobby start the song, followed shortly by Josh on guitar and then Eli comes in and starts singing. There’s a surprising amount of people singing along in the crowd, so you assume they must be popular here in Ireland.

“He has a pretty good voice,” you say.

“Yeah, they actually don’t seem half bad.”

You look them up on instagram to see that they have less than 40k followers. Josh and Eli are both private, and Ryan and Bobby each have less than 10k.

“Clara, check this out. They’re actually attainable.”

“Oh shit they’re pretty small. You’re right, maybe we actually do have a chance. Wow, we really are delusional.”

You chuckle then sigh, put away your phone, and continue listening to them play, not taking your eyes off Bobby. You catch him looking at you and you swear that he gives a slight smile before looking back at his bass.

“Y/N did Bobby just smile at you?” Clara says with a look of pure shock on her face.

“Okay so I wasn’t just imagining that. That actually happened?”

“I mean it’s hard to tell but I looked like this. Fuck, are our delusions finally coming true?”

“Oh, man. I hope so.”

The band finishes off strong and they get a large round of applause as they walk off the small stage. You can see the band putting away their instruments and they begin making their way over to the bar, scarily close to where you guys are sitting.

“Y/N I think they’re staring at us.”

You try to look at them without drawing their attention, but you fail and you make eye contact with three of the four members. All of the sudden, the band makes their way towards you and before you know it, the four of them are standing right in front of you.

“Hey, I’m Eli. Haven’t seen you guys ‘round here before,” the singer says to the two of you without breaking eye contact with your friend.

“Hi, I’m Clara and this is Y/N-”

“Ooo, you two are American,” Eli says before Clara can even finish her sentence.

“Yup. We’re here visiting for a week or so. Just got here yesterday.”

“What do you guys think of Dublin so far?” The drummer interjects.

“It’s great. The people are all so nice. Not a fan of Guinness, though,” Clara says and is immediately faced with a look from the boys.

“Yeah, that’s understandable,” Eli says, “It’s big here but not many foreigners like it, especially the girls. Can I buy you guys a drink?”

Internally, you’re trying not to freak out. You can’t believe your luck.

Clara speaks for you, “Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll have a vodka cranberry and she’ll have a rum and coke.”

“Coming right up,” he responds as he walks away towards the bar.

“Can we have a seat?” The drummer asks, but not really asking because they all sat down anyways, not that you would have said no. To your luck Bobby sat next to you, with Josh on his other side, and Ryan across the booth next to your friend with an open spot for Eli.

“So, what’d you think of the show?” Bobby asks, mainly to you, “I didn’t get your name, by the way.”

“I’m Y/N,” you say shyly. Normally, you were more outgoing. But in a situation like this, you felt yourself reverting to your younger self and couldn’t help but become introverted. “It was really good. We only popped in for the last song, but I liked it. The bass line was killer.”

“Awesome. Glad you liked it,” he said with a smile that left butterflies in your stomach.

Eli finally came back with your drinks, along with a round of Guinness for the boys. You make quick eye contact with your friend, noting that Eli chose to sit next to her instead of Ryan.

You’re secretly grateful Eli saved you from the conversation. Bobby made you nervous, and you needed some more alcohol in you in order to continue this conversation. You two thanked Eli for the drinks, and you anxiously began sipping it.

“Woah, eager there are we,” Bobby teased you as you each started drinking your drinks.

You blush in response, and hope that he can’t see the rose tint on your cheeks in the bar lighting.

“So what brings you guys to Dublin?” Josh chimes in.

“Oh, this was Y/N’s idea. We’ve been planning it for years. We graduated college in May and this was our Christmas/graduation gift to ourselves.”

“Congratulations, this is an awesome way to celebrate,” Josh replies, “What else is on your itinerary??”

“Honestly, not much. We’re here till the 5th so we definitely have plenty of time to explore. This little lady in a bookshop told us to come here and said we should come for the New Years party tomorrow but I can’t imagine how hard it would be to get in considering how long it took us to get in tonight.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem at all. We’re playing again tomorrow. We can get you two on the guest list, we’d love to see you again,” Eli says with a smile and a wink.

“Really? That’d be great! Maybe you guys could show us around too,” Clara replies without missing a beat.

“Sounds like a plan,” Eli says smoothly.

“How about another round?” Bobby offered and you all nod your heads yes, “Y/N, come with me to bring them over?”

“Yeah, sure,” you reply back. The two of you get up to the bar and Bobby orders drinks for everyone. You can slowly feel the alcohol hitting you and are becoming more confident as the minutes go by.

“I saw you smirk at me onstage,” You blurt out without thinking.

“I love The Strokes,” Bobby says back to you.

“You smirked at me because you like The Strokes?”

“The Strokes, among other things,” he says with a smile, moving slightly closer to you. “You caught my eye in the crowd. I can tell your friend caught Eli’s,” he says with a chuckle that makes you turn around to see Eli practically all over her. You turn your attention back to Bobby; You didn’t realize how blue his eyes are. Any confidence you just gained went out the window after making eye contact with the boy again. By the grace of God, the drinks are ready and it’s time to go back to the table.

The two of you settle back into your seats and join in the conversation, which turns out to be a heated argument between Ryan and Clara about which band was better, The Beatles or Queen.

The night goes on, more rounds are bought, and you all grow more tipsy. You can feel Bobby’s gaze on you throughout the night. At one point, he even rests his hand on your thigh. You’re all deep in conversation that you don’t even notice the music ending and the workers who are beginning to clean up the bar.

“Sorry, lads,” the bartender says to your table, “Closing up for the night. Be sure to come back tomorrow for an even bigger celebration.”

Eli and Clara are preoccupied with each other and they get up from the table first. Next is Josh and Ryan. Finally, you get up from the table with a slight stumble and are steadied by Bobby’s hand on your back.

“Easy there,” he says with a chuckle, “Here, hold onto my arm.” You give him a little smile and mutter a “thanks” and the six of you begin to walk out of the bar.

“Where’re you guys staying?” Ryan asks.

“An apartment a few blocks down,” you reply while slurring your words. You didn’t remember getting this drunk, and you’re glad that you have Bobby to hold onto.

“We’ll walk you back. Think you can guide us there?” Bobby says.

“Uhhhh, I think it’s this way,” you point in one direction, while your friend is pointing in the opposite.

“Do you have the address saved?”

“Yeah, here,” you reply as you hand Bobby your phone.

“You were right, it’s that way. C’mon, let’s get you two home.”

The six of you walk back in the quiet of the night. Eli and Clara are giggling to themselves in the back. Ryan and Josh are in the front leading the way. Bobby’s next to you, still letting you hold onto him to steady yourself. ‘

“How was your first night at an Irish pub?”

“Fun,” you say looking up at him, “your lips are really pink,” you mutter to him, which causes him to chuckle.

“You’re funny,” he says to you.

“Thanks.”

“Looks like we’re here,” you hear Josh say from in front of you. You look up and realize you are, in fact, in front of the apartment. The walk was quicker than you thought. Your friend grabs the keys and Eli opens the door for the two of you. The two of them mutter a goodbye as he gives her a kiss on the cheek. Ryan and Josh say their goodbyes, and that just leaves you and Bobby.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, right?” he starts off.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you say with a smile.

“Good. I’ll keep an eye out for you in the crowd. Goodnight,” he says with a wink. And with that the four boys are on their way home, which leaves you and Clara alone at last.

“What the fuck just happened Y/N?” Clara practically yells at you.

“I have no idea,” you yell back at her.

“Oh I knew our delusions would pay off one day. Rockstar girlfriend here we come.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

The two of you crash down onto the couch to chat some more about the night. All the things Eli said to her and Bobby said to you.

“You know how I said Eli looks like Bono? Turns out that’s his dad!” Clara shouts at you while laughing and staring at the ceiling.

“What?! No way! Oh my god are you sure we’re not dreaming.”

Eventually, sleepiness comes over the two of you and you retire to your bedrooms. You manage to get into your pajamas and get yourself ready for bed and fall asleep almost instantly.

—

You wake up to the sun shining through your curtains and groan at the brightness. Surprisingly, you don’t feel too hungover, just hungry. The first thing you do is check your phone, and you are met with a text from an unknown number.

You open it and it reads, Hey, last night was fun. Excited to see you again x.

Your jaw practically hits the floor when you read it. You realize Bobby must’ve gotten your number from when you gave him the directions last night, but it still feels crazy to you. This stuff only happens in the movies.

“Oh my god, Clara. Check this out,” you say as you run into her room. She reads it with hungover eyes but as she processes what it is, she wakes up and yells in excitement.

“Oh my god, tonight is gonna be the best night of our lives,” she screams so loud she probably woke the neighbors. You send him a quick reply and get ready for the afternoon.

You eat a late lunch at a local restaurant and then walk around the area for a little bit to get some fresh air. After, you two go back to the apartment to start getting ready for the night ahead of you. You decided to make some more pasta for dinner to save some money. After dinner, it was time to start picking your outfits. Since it was new years, the two of you wanted to dress nicer than you had the previous days. Clara decided on a slinky silver dress that ended on her mid-thigh with black boots and a black jean jacket. You decide on a black velvet spaghetti strap dress that has lace around the bra line and bottom and is tight in just the right places, your Dr. Martens, and a black leather jacket. The two of you did your hair and makeup, and began pre-gaming. The two of you decided this night was gonna be crazy, and you wanted to be a little tipsy when you got in there.

After a few drinks, you guys decided it was time to walk over to the pub. You get to the pub and see a long line, but then you remember that the boys got you on a guest list. Clara leads the way and walks the two of you up to the bouncer at the front of the line.

“Hello, we’re on the list. Clara and Y/N,” she says confidently as the bouncer scans the list. He gets to your names, crosses them off, and lifts the rope to let the two of you in. You’re faced with stares and angry faces, but the two of you don’t have a care in the world. Everything is going your way. You say a quick thank you and walk into the pub.

Although it’s still a couple hours till midnight, it’s already packed to the brim. You squeeze through the crowd and order two vodka cranberries at the bar to keep you guys at the pleasant level of tipsy you were at while you waited till the boys were done performing. There were no seats left, so you pushed through to the front of the crowd to get a good view of their performance. You try to look for the boys, but don’t see them anywhere. After about 15 minutes, the music stops and the boys make their way onstage as the crowd erupts in applause. The two of you start cheering for them as well, drawing their attention. Eli gives you a smile and then sees Clara, looking her up and down before giving her a wink and then turning to the crowd. As Eli’s introducing the band and their first song, Bobby’s staring you down with a serious face. He adjusts his bass to be positioned lower on his body, which you can only hope that it means your outfit is doing what you intended it to do.

“Oh, they just totally checked us out,” Clara says to you, without breaking eye contact with Eli, “I’m so excited for tonight.”

The boys play numerous songs and you and Clara are dancing together and with other people in the crowd while they play. They play some of their own songs, as well as some covers. The covers were a hit and the entire crowd was singing along. Throughout their entire set, you could feel Bobby’s eyes on you. He’s wearing black jeans, Dr. Martens, a white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. Eli introduced their last song, and it felt like it was just Bobby and you in the room with the way that you two were staring at each other. After what felt like forever, they were finally finished with their set, and there was about an hour till midnight.

The boys head offstage to put away their instruments, and you and Clara rush over to them. It’s almost like they can feel you approaching. Before you can even speak and make your presence known, Bobby turns around to you.

“Hi,” you say shyly.

“Hi. You look fantastic tonight,” he says while looking you up and down again once more while smirking, making you blush.

“Shall we get our first round?” Eli shouts over the music that replaced Inhaler’s absence. Eli and Clara make their way to the bar while the rest of you find a spot in the corner to claim.

“What’d you think of the set?” Bobby asks you.

“Even better than last night’s.”

“Glad you liked it. I was a little distracted on stage though,” he says cheekily.

“Oh, were you? I didn’t notice,” you say with a smile.

“Mhm. That dress looks really good on you.”

“Thanks, I thought so too.”

Eli and Clara come back with the drinks and the group forms a new conversation. Thanks to your and Clara’s pregame, you’re at a great level of drunkenness for tonight. By now, there’s 15 minutes until midnight. You feel Bobby sticking closer to you as the night goes on. Everytime he laughs, he looks at you. His arm is glued around your shoulder.

“Five minutes until midnight! Let's get out there!” She shouts while dragging Eli into the crowd.

“You heard her, let’s go,” you say to Bobby as you drag him there as well. You lost Clara and Eli, along with Josh and Ryan. But it was okay since you had Bobby there and that was really all you needed.

The closer it got to midnight, the crazier the energy got in the pub. At about a minute to midnight, the energy was through the roof as you all waited to start counting. There was a big clock counting down the seconds, so you were sure not to miss the clock striking midnight. You were pressed tight against Bobby’s chest, only now realizing how tall he was.

Twenty seconds to midnight. Everyone started yelling, including you and Bobby. Even though the two of you were already squeezed against each other, you somehow were able to move closer together.

Ten Seconds. Time seemed to slow down and it felt like an eternity till midnight.

Five. You look Bobby in the eyes, down to his lips, and then his eyes again.

Four. He grabs your dress by your wait and pulls you even closer.

Three. You put your arms around his neck.

Two. He moves one hand up to grab your chin and point your head up to him.

One. The crowd is full of cheers, but it feels like the two of you are the only people in the room. The clock finally hits midnight and Bobby pulls your lips to his. The kiss was slow at first. He pulls away for a second before going back in with more force. He moans into your mouth which causes you to giggle against his lips. He pulls away and you see pure lust in his eyes. You stand on your toes so that you’re able to whisper in his ear.

“Let’s get out of here,” you say while moving your lips down his, leaving a few kisses before leaving a playful bite. He moans, grabs your arm, and drags you out of the pub while you gladly follow.

“Your place is closer than mine, could we go there?” Bobby says, already leading you in that direction.

“Yeah, let me just send Clara a text.”

You check your phone to see Clara has already sent you one.

Went back to Eli’s place. Have fun with Bobby ;)

“Already taken care of,” you say to Bobby while chuckling.

While the air was cold, Bobby’s hand was warm inside yours. At one point he pulls you to the side and presses you against an alley wall, kissing you on the lips. He kisses your neck and his breath is warm against your cold skin. He runs his hands up and down your body and you can feel yourself craving his touch.

After what feels like an eternity, you make it back to the apartment. You grab your key from your purse and unlock the door. As soon as you shut the door behind you, Bobby has you pressed up against it. You gasp, but are quickly shushed as you’re met with Bobby’s lips on yours. His hands are roaming up and down your body and you can feel yourself needing more. You palm his dick through his jeans, which earns a groan from him. You start walking forward, pushing Bobby to walk back towards your bedroom.

He opens the door to your room and you push him back until he lands on the edge of the bed and you’re able to straddle his lap. You take off his jacket while he helps you take off yours. You continue kissing his soft lips and eventually make your way back to his neck, kissing a sweet spot by his jaw causing him to let out a moan. You can feel his cock growing in his pants, so you start grinding your hips against his as you begin removing his shirt. His lips start to travel to your neck and your hands are in his curly hair.

You hop off of his lap, get down on your knees in front of him, and start unbuckling his belt. You get his belt off and he bucks up his hips to help you take down his jeans and his boxers. You slowly trail kisses up from his base to his tip.

“Quit teasing,” he says to you as he begins to gather your hair into one hand and uses the other to guide your head from behind.

You slide your tongue to his tip and slowly run a circle around with your tongue before slipping him into your mouth, earning a groan from him.

“Mhm, that’s a good girl,” he says encouragingly to you. You bring your hands into your work, which only excites Bobby more.

You can tell Bobby is close due to the speedy nature of his breathing.

“Come up here, I don’t want to finish just yet. Though you do a damn good job.” He asserts while letting go of your hair and pulling you up to his face again. “Let’s take this off, yeah?” he whispers in your ear.

He helps you take off your dress to reveal your black lace bra and matching panties. Your lips crash against each other again as he pulls you on top of him onto the bed. You climb off of him, allowing him to take the more dominant position above you. He starts kissing your chest, and your hands are moving up and down his toned arms. He unhooks your bra and when he takes it off, he looks like a kid in a candy store. He looks up at you and you give him a little nod of encouragement. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around, and the other nipple is squeezed between two of his fingers.

After a few minutes of this, he starts continuing down your body. He makes his way down to your panties and his breath against your skin causes you to shiver. He pulls them down your legs slowly, teasing you.

“You’re so wet,” he teases, “all for me?” and without a warning, he dives his mouth into your vagina which causes you to gasp in surprise and pleasure. You grab onto his hair to encourage him to keep doing what he’s doing.

“Mmm, you like that?” he says while stopping for a second to look at you.

“Fuck, yes, don’t stop.”

He continues working on your clit and he eventually introduces his fingers. One finger causes you to gasp, two makes you cry out his name, and three is close to sending you overboard. Just as you’re about to reach your climax, Bobby pulls away. You look down at him confused, but you’re met with the sight of him pulling out a condom.

“You alright with this?” he asks as he slips on the condom.

“Please, wanna feel you inside me,” you reply.

He meets your lips again one more time before sliding himself inside you.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” you say.

“Love, I’m not even all the way in yet,” he chuckles while you gasp. “Jesus, you’re so tight, you feel so good.”

With every thrust he puts more and more of himself inside you. The initial pain is quickly taken over by pleasure. You’re grabbing onto his biceps and are slowly coming undone. Tears are brimming in your eyes from the immense pleasure; Bobby wipes them away with his thumb and gives you kisses of encouragement. His chain is dangling over his face, swinging back and forth with each thrust.

“Harder, I’m so close,” you say as you feel your climax approaching.

“Mmm, me too,” he grunts.

He begins playing with your clit, which brings you to your breaking point.

“Oh, I’m gonna cum,” you say.

“Oh fuck yes, cum with me baby.”

His thrusts become sloppy as the two of you reach your climaxes together. He falls down on top of you as you both are catching your breath.

“Fuck. That was amazing. You’re amazing,” he says while giving a kiss to your forehead.

“Mhm, you’re not too bad yourself,” you reply.

Bobby helps you into his t-shirt and you get up to use the bathroom. You come back to Bobby in his boxers underneath the covers with them drawn enough for you to get in next to him. You hop into the bed and he pulls you close, giving you a kiss on the cheek before the two of you fall asleep.

You wake up in the morning just where you left off the night before: in Bobby’s arms. The sun is shining through the window hitting Bobby’s face beautifully. You can’t help but stare at how peaceful he looks while sleeping. Last night was the start of something exciting, and you can’t wait to see where this takes you.

#inhaler #inhalerdublin #inhaler dublin #inhaler x reader #inhaler band #robert keating #bobby skeetz x reader #bobby skeetz #robert keating x reader #bobbyskeetz #robert keating fluff #bobby skeetz imagine

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sigillite · 2 years

Text

𝚞𝚙𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜...

➸ ghost! (harry potter various x reader)

[Name] is a ghost. Well, sort of. She can interact with the world around her, she can’t be seen by wizards nor witches, and she ages as time passes. For a while, she floated through life isolated and confused. But what happens when [Name] meets someone who can actually see her, a wizard by the name of Harry Potter.

➸ real boy (saiki k x reader)

Saiki Kusuo is an enigma in [Name]’s eyes. He’s so unbothered by the world around him, it’s almost as if he isn’t human. [Name], a cunning young girl who can practically get anything she wants out of a person, begins to find herself obsessed with the boy, wanting to see him laugh, cry, show any kind of emotion. As her obsession grows and grows, Saiki finds it harder to keep his secrets hidden, and [Name] has no plans of stopping until she gets what she wants.

➸ compulsive gamber (bnha various x reader)

[under construction]

*grandmaster has been scrapped and replaced with compulsive gambler

➸ fashionista (stardew valley various x reader)

After losing almost all of her money following a career-damaging lawsuit, [Name] [Lastname], known as Emory Diva in the fashion world, joins her sister in a small town called Stardew Valley.

#fanfiction #fanfic #harry potter #harry potter various x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha various #bnha various x reader #harry potter various #saiki k #saiki #saiki x reader #saiki k x reader #chess #hogwarts #stardew #stardew valley #stardew valley various #stardew valley x reader

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k-nayee · 2 months

Text

Author's Note and Prologue

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

Nothing

That's is the first thing you wake up to.

A void.

You awaken in it, feeling as if floating in an expanse of emptiness.

You see nothing.

Feel nothing.

As if answering an unspoken cue, the sensation of falling takes place.

The moment you touch what seems to be a flat surface, the void gives way to light-so blinding that it forces your eyes shut.

Blinking rapidly, you sit up as the world comes into focus bit by bit.

Your...hands?

They are the first thing your attention latches onto. You flex them instinctively as if to confirm their existence.

And with each movement, a sense of familiarity returns like a distant memory resurfacing from the depths of your mind.

Once satisfied, your curious gaze starts to travel, taking notice of other parts of you.

Using your hands to glide over what you understand to be your body, each touch brings a rush of knowledge into your once naïve mind.

Moving down to your...legs-yes, those are definitely legs, you freeze at the sight of the...wiggly small-fingered, big flat hands (???) attached to them.

Eyes wide in fascination, you lean forward, ignoring the pulling strain it does to your unused muscles.

'What are they used for? Another set of hands?' Giving them a wiggle, you're almost hesitant to touch them.

Shakily reaching out, awe is immediately replaced with a deadpanned look the moment you give one a timid squeeze.

You continue to poke and prod at your feet in bemusement of initially finding them captivating.

❝Wow...who woulda thought you'd have such a thing for feet?❞

Your neck nearly snaps at how fast you whip towards the voice with a yelp. Standing a few feet away stood a young woman.

Her smile is the first thing that you notice, radiating a kind of warmth that makes you want to bask in forever. She seemed to emit a healthy glow from the light around, her brown skin smooth and vibrant.

The large, clear-framed glasses perched on her nose magnified the friendliness in her eyes, adding an intellectual charm to her youthful face. Deep black curls frame her face perfectly, bouncing with every subtle movement.

'She can't been no more than fifteen' you think, noting her youthfulness and the playful light in her eyes.

❝H-how long were you there?❞ The question tumbles out with a sputter, still shooketh from the surprise.

❝Long enough to see you playing footsies with yourself,❞ she quips, tone light with an edge of cheekiness.

You release a nervous chuckle, avoiding her teasing gaze in attempt to save face. ❝Ah...y-you saw that huh?❞

She says nothing, a head shake and light snort is her only response before any amusement left fades into seriousness.

The sudden shift in her demeanor sends a ripple of unease through you; making you get on your feet to confront better.

❝W-where am I? Who are you? What am I doing here?❞ you blurt, a flurry of questions that betray your apprehension.

Instead of answering, she simply tilts her head.

❝Really? You're not gonna say anything?❞

Silence.

❝Like deadass, forreal?❞ You grow more irritated than anxious. ❝I'm not playing these games with you. Whe-❞

That's when a wave of vertigo hits.

You stagger, quickly looking at her in alarmed as your vision begins to blur and double.

❝You know...I've always dreamed of traveling to different universes. Being able to live along side my favorite characters, to laugh with them, to fight alongside them, to love them. To be free...❞ her voice echo in your head, filled with yearning and ache.

❝...but I can't.❞

As her words wash over you, everything becomes too much.

The room spins faster; you feel queasy, dizzy till the point your knees buckle causing you fall to the ground.

❝I truly thought all hope was lost...❞

Through the haze of dizziness, her feet come into focus. You shakily look up at her for help, a silent plea shinning in your gaze.

Shadows casted on her face making it difficult, her eyes are the only thing you can clearly see: they're tinged with sadness-and something else.

She does nothing but stare down at you, watching your suffering with a face of indifference before a warm grin slowly spread across her face. ❝Then I made you.❞

As your vision begins to fade her voice is the last thing you hear, a whisper as darkness takes you into its grasp one last time.

❝My little Traveler❞

∘₊✧───────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧───────✧₊∘

Even though this book is mainly for my own entertainment and pleasure, I still want others to enjoy it too!

However, there are a few things I must speak up on before this ball gets rolling:

1) This book was written by me and how I believe the stories should go. If you don't like what you reading...ya ass out.

2) I live a life outside of Tumblr, so please don't be commenting "update update!" That shit is rude and disrespectful and I don't like pressure; takes the fun out of writing.

3) Plagiarism is a HELLA big no no. Takes a lot of time and energy to even to write out a whole completed chapter other than half-assed drafts. I'm all for being ya inspiration and all, but at least tell me you're doing it.

4) Please don't come on my most recent updated chapters and comment "can you update xyz?" If there's no [1/?] behind the title, its a stand-alone chapter unless I change it.

Okay! That's all I gotta say for this. See y'all later!

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earthpleasures · 4 days

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FAVORITE !

Harry Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Your friends joked about how much of a 'Teacher's Pet' you're. You brushed them off and laughed because it meant nothing. However, when Mr. Potter became your DADA professor in your last year, it meant something.

Warnings: MDNI +18 / swearing, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, sir kink (is that even a kink?), impact play, degradation, praise, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, creampie, age-gap (reader is 20, harry is 28), hair pulling, darkish!harry.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: to clarify, hogwarts sets in between age of 14-20. I don't wanna throw reader into a full grown man when she's barely an adult. Harry and Ginny are divorced. Because my girl Ginny doesn't deserve to be cheated on. I think no matter how toxic Harry would get, he wouldn't cheat on his partner. AND PLEASE DON'T FLIRT WITH YOUR TEACHERS IN REAL LIFE!

dividers by: @benkeibear

"darlin', can I be your favorite?

i'll be your girl, let you taste it"

- favorite by isabel larosa.

Y/n've always been a bit of a little teacher's pet. Never running to classes late, submitting her homework on time, sometimes even before time, helping professors carry their heavy books. It was a demeanor many of the teachers appreciated. And made her friends laugh; they found it hilarious how she was able to keep up with all of the schoolwork and social interactions with teachers.

Through the six years, she didn't care about all the jokes had been made about her behavior or the implications of a special bond with any of her professors by some of the jealous students. It was easier to let them be delusional and run their stupid minds than trying to fix their mistakes.

However, the seventh year was the year she began to hush the accusations. Because the possibility of accusations reflecting reality scared her.

And now, the sole source of her fears and lust was in front of the board, scratching something she didn't pay attention to at all.

Professor Potter was a danger to her reputation and view of classes.

When she heard rumors that Harry Potter, The Chosen One, would be teaching DADA classes after the departure of their former professor, she was enthusiastic. He fought against the dark himself, Lord Voldemort. Who would be better than him to teach about this class?

Mr Potter's first lesson was quite shocking for her. Throughout the photos and conversations of other students, she knew he was handsome. But knowing was a thing; seeing with her own two eyes was another thing.

His green eyes always seemed to be excited, alive, and fresh. His approach to classes could be called effective, according to many of the students. First, they learned the theoretical aspects of a creature or curse, or hex. Then, they practiced in various ways such as breaking a curse on an object and facing the said creature in a safe environment if the creature is found.

He dropped the chalk in his hand to his desk with a soft sound and dusted the powder of his skin. A creature was drawn on the board; it wasn't the most perfect drawing ever, but it was definitely recognizable.

“Okay, class. I don't want to see any books open in front of you. Your homework was to study for the next lesson. Let's see who did their homework properly. What's this creature called?”

Before Y/n could even fathom the answer, a female student jumped to answer his question. “A banshee.” Harry smiled at the girl, nodding his head in agreement. “That's correct, Ms. Brown. This creature is called ‘Banshee’. Banshee is a creature mostly affiliated with dark arts.” He rolled up his cream color shirt's sleeves and crossed his arms over his chest, hips laid against the desk.

“It’s native to Ireland and has a zombie-like appearance. But what makes them lethal?” His green eyes scanned the classroom, waiting for an answer. This time, she managed to act before other students. “Fatal scream. Hearing them might and most likely will kill.”

“Exactly. My advice is that if you don't have anything to defend yourself against a banshee, well, at least make sure to cover your ears firmly and run. Then maybe you can survive.”

His statement caused a peal of light laughter in class, which made him sigh in amusement. Merlin, he missed being a student.

“And lastly, what can you use to defeat a banshee?” Whole classroom fell into silence, everyone, at least the students studied beforehand, researching their memories for the correct response. Harry straightened his back and took the chalk from the wooden desk. “No answer? It's-”

“Laughter potion.”

Y/n's rushed voice interrupted his definement, her face satisfied from remembering the potion. Harry's eyebrow arched involuntarily, signaling the girl to continue. With newfound confidence to speak, she cleared her throat and gave him the answer he wanted.

“For it to be perfectly effective, the person who makes the potion must follow the rules word by word. Ingredients are spring water, alihotsy leaves, billywig wings, knarl quills, puffskein hair, horseradish powder, and laughter. We should consume the liquid if we face a banshee.”

Harry was amazed at her knowledge and strength of memory. “All correct, Ms. S/n. Someone actually studied, huh?” Other students let out grunts and complaints, some of them talking about how she's been like this for years and they're not even surprised.

And the lesson went on. Her eyes had never been focused on what he writes on the blackboard, but on his hands. They moved elegantly, a few scars scratching them. Her mind wandered on dangerous waters. They would gently caress her flesh and leave their prints on her thighs while his nose rubbed against her clit. Teeth almost puncturing her lower lip, she pressed her thighs together. I must stop, he's my teacher.

“In the next lesson, I want you to bring your own laughter potions since we will directly interact with a banshee. I talked to your potions professor, she will be helping you with the materials. And that being said, class, dismissed. With his last words, everyone gathered their books, feathers, and inkwells.

Y/n took a deep breath as she threw everything into her bag in a hurry. Leaving the classroom as soon as possible would be in her favor.

“Y/n.” A sweet, velvety voice caused her to stop her tracks. She gulped the agitation which was coursing through her whole body down. “Yes, Mr. Potter?” His hands were buried in pockets of his dress pants, veins on his forearms discernable. He smiled at her, making her stomach do literal flips.

“I would like to see you in my office after dinner, if the time fits you?” She almost jumped in to answer straight. However, she succeeded in remaining calm. “It does, but why? Did I do something wrong?” She was proud of herself regarding the fact her tone didn't falter.

“No, nothing like that. I wanted to discuss why you are so distracted in my classes.”

Her reason was as obvious as a shining sun but as embarrassing as it was obvious.

“Oh, okay. I will be there, sir.” His sweet smile twitched for a second, turning into something more malicious when the word ‘sir’ left her pretty lips.

“Good, see you later.”

Dinner went incredibly slow for her, thoughts of being alone with Professor Potter in a secluded room consumed her mind relentlessly. When dinner finally came to an end, her fast moves caught her friends’ attention. “Why are you in such a hurry, Y/n?” One of the girls asked her with a giggle, as her best friend, of course she knew why she was in a hurry.

Girl scoffed at her friend's playful question. “I am not in a hurry, Mindy. I just don't find keeping teachers waiting right.” Mindy rolled her eyes as she stab her fork to a piece of meat. “Right. But well, if I had a chance to be alone with Mr. Potter; girl, I would sprint to his office for more time.”

“Mindy! That's so inappropriate!” Her reproach earned a good laugh from her friends. She sighed as her cheeks flushed with excitement. Try as might, she couldn't help but think the same things as Mindy.

Her steps were quick while walking in the halls of Hogwarts. If goddamn Peeves catches her, it would be known to the whole school by tomorrow that she went to his office.

Standing in front of the wooden, dark brown door, she straightened her back and knocked. The tired voice of Mr. Potter invited her in.

“Ah, Y/n. Just on time, as usual. Come on. Take a seat.” He said, his hand pointing to the soft sofa against the wall. She took slow steps and fixed her skirt while sitting down. His face was drowned in traces of a busy day.

“So, you do your homework perfectly and on time, never late to my class, answering questions asked to you. Although, all answers given are studied beforehand, not learned from me. But, Ms. S/n, your constant act of staring at me blankly while I teach is bugging me greatly. Is there anything you would like to discuss with me? Why are you never paying proper attention to my lessons?”

She wet her dry lips with her tongue, trying to form the right argument against his accusations. Heat was rising in room, at least that was what Y/n felt. Or maybe it was her wild imagination again.

“I… I am not distracted, professor. I love your lessons. I mean, I love defense against dark arts. I give all my attention to what you're teaching and-” His not-convinced face made her cut her ramble before she could execute it properly.

“You don't believe me, do you?” Question was eager, desperate for approval from him. “No, Ms. Y/n. I think I don't.” He pressed his palms against the desk, rising up from his chair and walking towards the nervous girl.

“There’re a lot of things you're not capable of confessing. The things I learned through my efforts. Tell me, darling, is it really appropriate to fantasize about your teacher in his own class? Or to imagine his hands on your thighs?”

The blood froze in her veins. How did he even..?

“Legilimency.” Realization hit her like a slap before light gasp fled from her. “Mr. Potter! Legilimency is forbidden in Hogwarts, excluding the lessons. Why would you-”

A harsh grip on her chin.

“Don't fucking change the subject, Y/n. It's not like I've been famous for following stupid rules of Hogwarts. Also, I think it's also forbidden to feel any romantic or sexual attachment to your professors.” Her lips began to tremble, tears pricking to corners of her eyes like needles.

“I am so sorry, sir. I won't do it again. Please don't report me to the headmaster.” A sadistic smile crept on his beautiful face, strange look of hunger evident in his green eyes. “Have no worries, darling. I have no intention of letting McGonagall know your little ravings. In fact, it makes me quite effusive. Ever since my first night with my ex-wife, I haven't felt such a lust for someone.”

Her breath hitched. This was wrong, so wrong for so many reasons. He was her teacher, he was older than her, they were at a school and on…

Knots of lust began to solve in her belly. “This is so wrong, sir. We shouldn't…”

She couldn't finish it. Temptation of tabus has always been delicious to devour. And she was fucking tired of being the perfect, golden student. If other students were so adamant about making fun of her determination to succeed, maybe she could let a little loss.

So, she bit her lip to surpass the urge to deny his gesture of kneeling in front of her. His hands were cold and strong, just like illusions of her mind. They gripped the supple flesh of her thighs and gently pulled them apart. His eyes looked up to her for consent, satisfied breath falling from his lips when she approved him.

“Fuck, look how wet you're for me.” He licked his lips, almost feeling taste of her on the skin of his lips. “Such a needy whore for her teacher.” His thumb ran over the damp fabric of her blue panties. “And lacy? Bet you planned everything before you came here.” She opened her mouth to protest, only to earn a harsh blow on her inner thigh. Pain and pleasure were delicious enough to make her involuntarily close her thighs.

His hard grip already bruising her flesh, he pushed them apart. “If you're gonna act like a fucking brat, I will leave you like a teacher would.” She shook her head, tears already spilling from her rosy cheeks. “No, no! Please, I will behave!” He smirked with approval. “Sure you will.”

He was tired of teasing her, aching to taste her. She raised her hips off the sofa to allow him to take off her panties. His hand groped her tit over the white student shirt, the other hand climbing up to her mouth. She parted her lips, taking two digits into her mouth. Tongue enveloping the cold fingers, she coated them in her saliva as he ordered without words.

Wet muscle lolled out of his parted lips, trailing through her folds to collect the slick leaking out of her clenching hole. His spit-coated index and middle fingers slowly entered her entrance. “Mmmh, so fucking tasty, darling.”

His thumb circled on her bundle of nerves, long digits pumping in and out. “Clenching fucking tight around my fingers, you're not a virgin, are you? Acting all innocent and sweet in front of your friends, face flushing when someone mentions anything sexual.” His words fired something inside her stomach, coil building to resolve.

“How many boys have you fucked?” He hissed against her skin before his lips captured her clit between them. A yelp broke off from her hoarse throat. “Answer me!” Slap to her pussy caused one more scream to erupt from her.

“Three!” She whined breathlessly, sweat was trickling down from her eyebrow.

“Less than I thought.” He turned back to ravish her. His thumb never gave a break to her pearl, always rubbing and pinching it. His tongue swirled inside her velvety walls. Green eyes looked up to watch his favorite girl falling apart under his tongue. Such an appetizing sight.

“P-professor, too much, too much!” Her feet kicked marble floor, thighs closing around his head. Now that was a reaction pleased him, but, stupid slut didn't have any right to interfere with his dessert. “Shut the fuck up.” His palm collided with her rear, skin already reddening with impact. She nodded. Tears truly blurred her vision, Merlin, all she could feel was burning sensation on her cunt and coil on her stomach ready to snap at any moment.

How was it possible for his tongue to go this deep? She didn't know, feeling it was enough to shut down the thought.

Her hands flew to take hold on his brown strands, tugging at them with want. She had to feel him closer, if it was possible at this position. “G-gonna cum, H-Harry!” He raised his eyebrows, withdrawing from her pulsating core. “I don't remember allowing you to call me ‘Harry'?” She whined when her pussy lost the feeling of his mouth and digits on it. She was fucking close, just a lick away from cumming and he cruelly didn't let her.

“Are we really arguing this?” She propped herself on her elbows, pouty face making Harry more annoyed than before. He didn't think as his hand pulled her shirt, buttons flying around when thin white fabric ripped open. “Keep being a fuckin’ brat, Y/n. Keep being a bitch. And I will fuck you like one.”

His warning made no influence on keeping her tame. “I am not so sure, Harry. Do you even have any strength left to fuck properly, old man?”

His hand was raised to collide with her cheek. Sting was real as it was turning on. A cold smile replaced his angry expression. “Is that so, darling? Then you wouldn't mind getting on your knees?” She swallowed the lump sitting on her throat. He was scarier when he was calm.

“No…”

“No what?”

“No, sir.”

He sat on the couch as she stood up, her knees almost buckled beneath her. Floor was cold but she didn't mind. If her favorite professor requested something from her, she must oblige.

Her hands were eager to please. She first undid his belt, then button of his pants. Even under the fabric, it was big, the stretch would be painful and ecstatic. She palmed it, veins teased skin inside her hand. Her mouth watered at the sight.

Her fingers hooked around the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down with his help, black pants pooled around his ankles. Not wanting a second, she wrapped her hand to his cock. While stroking him, her tongue lapped at the bead of precum accumulated on the tip. He hissed, his hand fisted strands of her hair. “No teasing, Y/n. You got on my nerves enough.” She swallowed a shameless moan when his fingers tugged at her strands. All she did was to nod and act like the pretty doll he wanted her to be.

“Have you ever given head before?” He asked not out of bitterness, but curiosity. “I haven't, sir.” Face softening as a reaction, he reached down to cup her chin. Bending forward, his lips softly pressed against hers as she steadied herself by resting her hands on the corner of the sofa. His tongue tasted like whiskey and her juices. He must have drank before she came to his office.

Needless to say, he tilted his head to get a better angle. Everything was vivid, even the dust falling on her skin. Kiss was sloppier than most of the kisses she shared with boys, but it felt better, more intimate than all of them. Maybe it was Harry, the way he kissed her. Or, maybe it was thrill of an illicit act. Either way, she didn't care.

“I will teach you, darling.”

Her ragged breath caressed the inside of his thighs. He clenched his jaw to not whimper, not yet at least.

“Start by stroking it. Mmm... Just like that.” Her eyes never left his, checking if she was doing well. His flushed cheeks and parted lips gave her the answer she was looking for. “You can run your tongue on it.” She did as she was told. Taste of his skin made her whimper in delight. Fuck, why wait this long? How hard could it be to suck a cock?

“Uh, uh. No need to rush.” He pulled her away when she attempted to take him directly. “Suck the tip first.” Her tongue ran on the reddish tip as she kept stroking him, lips sealing around him. She bobbed her head so slightly, inside of her mouth was burning to go further.

“Good girl. Now take it slowly.” A low grunt left his throat as she eagerly went down on him. She began to move her head up and down, taking all she could. Her hand never left the parts her mouth couldn't reach unattended.

“Shit. Are you sure it's your first time?” She just batted her eyelashes at him, of course it was. She wouldn't lie to him. “Then you have a very capable mouth, love, I must admit it.” He hardly laughed, working on making the needy whines die down on his throat. Sure she was good, but it wasn't a reason to stroke her ego.

“Shh, relax your throat, I don't want you to have an irritated throat afterward.” Easy for him to say. However, the action itself wasn't that much of an easy task. According to her friends, hollowing her cheeks would've made it possible to take a cock deeper.

His hips jerked when his tip hit the back of her throat. Finally, a pathetic whimper escaped the professor's lips. She was proud of the lascivious scene her mouth created.

Her palms pressed on his knees as he pushed his hips up, cock relentlessly hammering to her mouth, saliva was leaking from the corner of her lips. He tugged at her scalp, forcing her to back off from his cock. When he let her go, she gasped for air. Her lungs were screaming for some oxygen. Mix of spit and precum were dripping down to bare chest.

“I don't want to cum into your throat. It would be such a waste.”

She followed his wordless instructions, laying flat on her back against soft crimson cushions. He towered over her bare body for a few seconds, taking in the beautiful sight. Leaning forward, his lips attached to the crook of her neck, leaving his shades of purple marks. Tip of his dick pressed against her clit. Her act of impatiently bucking her hips was adorable, depravement of youth, he thought.

He rolled his hips. At first it felt impossible to fit in. “It won't fit!” Despite her protests, she didn't resist or shove him away. He closed his eyes as their lips met again. They both tasted like each other, like a forbidden fruit. If Eve and Adam saw them, they would've known what real pleasure is, how it looks.

She could swear a fire was striking on her core. The flames were swallowing her remaining sanity and dragging her into the abyss, this was the only way to describe how he felt inside her.

“Goddamn tight, your cunt is basically suffocating my cock, darling.” He spoke through gritted teeth, her slippy walls enveloping him blissfully. Tears trickled down from her temples as she threw her head back. Their hips collided, he was fully sheathed in. His moves were languid and intimate at first, making sure to give time to her so that she can adjust his size.

“M-move faster. Ple… please, sir.” And so he did, because his pretty girl asked him so nicely. Her world was shaking as his cock practically hammering inside of her. Her knees were pressed against her chest as he mouthed at her tit, pert bud crushed between his teeth. He rolled his hips delightly, stretching her to her limits. It felt just so right and flawless with the way his cock fit in her cunt.

Pulling away until he was fully out of her, he smirked at her needy moans. His hips snapped so sudden that she let out a squeak. He caught her hand and brought it to her belly. “Feels so good, huh? Can't even do anything but moan, just like a cockdrunk whore.” He let go of her legs, letting them go down from her chest. He propped one of them around his waist to reach deeper. And for a few seconds, he didn't move.

“W-what? No, no, no. Don't s-stop!” She cried out when he stayed still. He was so cruel that she wanted to slap him. “How insatiable and discourteous…” He mumbled with a shaming tone. However, it was hard for him to keep this position too. So he moved.

Her hands desperately clung to his back, scratching the pale skin. He has never been a masochist but shit, he would let her scratch his back like this for hours.

Her walls began to tighten around him, he was ripping the orgasm out of her he refused to give then. “So close, so close,, s-sir!” Her words were almost inaudible, his hand wrapped around her neck as he pressed his lips against her harshly. With the final snap, he finally exploded inside of her pussy, ropes of cums filling her to the brim as she came down from her own high.

Pair were sweaty and breathless, she was coming to her senses, brain calculating consequences of their actions after his head fell upon her chest. He still hasn't pulled out, refusing to do so. “Y/n, y/n… I could stay inside you forever… My favorite girl…” He placed a gentle kiss between her breasts before pulling out of her. “But we don't have that much time.”

She was too tired to move or even to speak. However a few words managed to find their destination out of her lips. “What happens now..?” Her sentence made him pause. “What happens now?” He repeated. “This stays between us, Y/n. Only us. And if I ever see you with a boy again, I won't be so nice about it. Got it?”

She nodded.

“Good. I will take care of you, it's not like you can move. Oh well, I guess I was a little bit hard on you.” She furrowed.

“A little bit huh?” He chuckled at her complaint. “Anyways, let's get you clean and fresh, darling. Don't worry, I will report to McGonagall that you had a very bad attack and needed assistance.” She pouted. “But will she believe you?”

He smiled, not a charming or a warm smile.

“She always does, love.”

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter smut #harry potter fic #j.k. rowling #teacher x student

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lizthewriter · 3 months

Text

as the banks begin to break / sirius black

PAIRING adult!sirius black x forensic analyst!reader

SUMMARY you run the blood analysis for another mystery body - perfectly healthy, no suggestion of how the person died. it was frustrating going back to your boss with nothing. another mystery. and then, you're much too fed up with the feds taking away your stiffs. you take it upon yourself to investigate the mystery of this body further.

"magic can't be real, it's just not physically possible! there are rules and -"

sirius stared up at you from the ground. you stared down at him. though, instead of a human standing there, it was a dog.

"what the fuck."

TAGS adult!sirius black x forensic analyst!reader, mystery fic???, (3) question marks, idk i thought the concept for this was cool and wrote it because why not, intrigue, reader obviously DOES NOT believe in magic, harry potter and the deathly hallows

QUOTE "too tempting not to touch, / but even though it shocked you, / something's electric in your blood," - various storms and saints by florence + the machine

WORD COUNT 3.6K

WRITTEN 1.6.2024

you -

hey, boss wants you to run blood analysis on this john doe we got earlier today. ran his fingerprints through the system, but we came up with nothing. he doesn't expect for you to get a hit, but he wants you to try anyways. i faxed you the preliminary report. send boss your results asap. see you tommorow!

you listened back to the message on your machine before getting to analyzing the blood sample left on your desk. your dear friend and the medical examiner on your team, james, had examined another one of those odd stiffs this morning. dead, but for some reason, no one could figure out how. there had been dozens, if not more than a hundred, in the past two years like this one. more on record in the last century, but the precinct hasn't seen numbers like these since world war two.

this paticular victim was different than the others, however. all other bodies had been identifiable - meaning the police was able to figure out who had died and notify next of kin. this one wasn't - no form of i.d, no money (other than some odd gold and silver coins, most likely worthless), no fingerprints in their databases. you probably wouldn't get a hit on the dna, but you could try.

there was another reason this john doe was fascinating. despite the fact that it seemed like he fell off a building, the preliminary report showed that he recieved the injury post-mortem. james' examination of the body concluded that he must have fallen more than forty stories, but the buildings nearby were less than five stories.

dead bodies don't just fall out of the sky.

you ran the dna profile you had through the national dna database - and surprisingly, you had a pop-up on your screen.

paternal match - scott constance moody

"born august 17, 1912, relations, history, blah blah blah, arrested for public drunkness and indecency on multiple occasions . . . last known address."

the door to your lab slammed open - in anticipation, you immediately closed the file and turned off your computer.

"have any evidence for us this time?" at this point it had become routine. thompson from "mi5" would whisk away the bodies, claiming something ridiculous like "drug deal gone wrong" or "national security risk," looking and acting very much like someone working for a secret government agency trying to hush-hush a deeper plot afoot.

"nope," you responded with an attempt at a solemn expression. "unfortunately, the blood analysis was a dead end. he's just some guy, i suppose."

"we appreciate your discretion," he responded, shaking your hand firmly. you mean you appreciate me not complaining to the other guys at the precinct. certainly is suspicious that an odd-looking fed comes taking dead bodies as much as he does. even if you were to raise suspicions, who would believe you? you were a female nerd practically living in a back closet while the big, strong men handled the real world. he left with nothing else to say.

you turned your computer back on and opened the file again. you scribbled down the address and just as you were about to leave, you looked back down at the dna profile for doe and found something g peculiar. an odd gene marker you had only ever seen a few times before - including your own blood. you drew the profile closer to you, staring down at it. you had never been able to figure out what it was. six years of higher education had taught you nothing and the fancy, hot-shot professors you had take a look couldn't even understand what they were looking at.

what is up with this guy?

you knocked on the front door to an old house, out in the country. pastures of green painted in the skyline, cows and barns littering the landscape beyond it. beautiful, quiet, humble. a very fitting place for an eighty-four year old man.

you saw someone glance through curtains in a window. they disappeared soon after and didn't answer the door. you knocked again and pulled out your police badge. "scott moody? london police, i need to speak with you." you hoped your tone seemed formidable enough. you weren't a cop, you were a forensic scientist, but you needed to speak with him. you needed to understand these dead bodies and the only way to do that was to investigate this moody guy.

finally, the door swung open, and a rather gruff and grumpy man answered. "will you stop that racket? what the hell do you want, girlie?"

you drew in a breath. what should you tell him? you didn't want to lie - that felt cruel. but at the same time, you could suddenly understand why your colleagues seemed so drained after sharing the terrible news to family members. the pressure weighing your stomach was sickening.

"i'd like to ask you some questions about your son, mr. moody. do you mind if i come in?"

"yes, i very much do mind! what's someone like youse interest in my alastor?"

"alastor . . . sir, i'm very sorry to tell you this, but . . . well -"

"out with it, girl!"

"your son died. approximately at twelve forty-five last night. the circumstances of his death are rather . . . under investigation. i just need to gather more information, to find out who killed him."

the man looked genuinely concerned (which suprised you slightly, considering how rude he was) and took a shocked step back. he glanced back inside his own house and then at you. "there's nothing you can do," he said weakly, then shutting the door in your face. you shouted for the man, pounding on his door, but got no response. in a huff, you stormed back to your car and slumped in the driver's seat. you ran a hand down your face - how could you ever think that you could be an investigator? you? you laughed at yourself - so full of yourself, you were neck deep in your own shit. never were you to pull a stunt like this again, not if you wanted to get fired.

as you started the car and swung your gaze around to back out of the driveway, you caught the man sitting out the side window, tying a note to a - was that an owl?

perhaps he was sending a message to someone - through an owl, like a homing pigeon. you had only one instinct.

follow the owl.

driving through the chaos known as the london streets while chasing a bird was a nightmare, but somehow you managed. here you stood, looking out upon a charming old row of houses. the bird had flew to one in the middle, the exterior bricks blackened compared to the crisp pastel orange of the other houses. someone opened the window, letting the owl in, and then closed the window.

you decided to sit there and wait. wait and wait and wait. for what, you didn't know. for the owl to come back out? for you to build up the guts to knock on the front door with very many questions? no, that was a bad idea. who knows who is in that house, what they're doing. so you waited for someone to come out and luckily, they did. a man with long, black hair strutted elegantly down the steps to the front door and down the road. you got out of your car and decided to follow him.

you don't know what had gotten into you recently. the million questions swirling through your head had apparently begged enough to be answered that you just had to oblige, no matter the consequences. the man was dressed rather odd, you noticed. a grape-colored velvet suit with tailcoats, a mustache like your grandfather had worn. he dressed like a man out of time.

when he stopped walking, you stopped. when he started again, you were right on his ass (well, feet away, but still). he took a laise through a farmer's market, glancing around himself a few times before leaving without buying a single thing. he walked down the road and turned into an alleyway. naive as you were, you followed him and found the alleyway empty. only trash littered the ground.

stepping forward, you peeked behind dumpsters and other barriers of the sort. deciding that he must have disappeared somehow, you turned around with a sigh . . . only to be shoved up against the wall by the very man you had been following.

you had two first impressions of the man. the first was that, now that you could observe him up close, you noticed that he was devilishly handsome. the second was that he had a stick pointed at your throat and seemed rather impressed with himself for it.

"you have about ten seconds to explain why you're following me, hm?" his hands were gripped around the fabric of your collar shirt, bunching up the neatly ironed cotton. so much for looking polished. "who are you? fudge's minon? death eater?"

"i'm a member of the police - if you'd only give me a moment to show you my badge -"

"not a chance," he responded, pressing the stixk further into your neck. really, is that supposed to intimidate me? you thought in annoyance. "who are you really?"

"i'm telling the truth."

"how did you find me?"

"i followed you from that house on grimmauld place."

"how do you know about that?"

"following the homing pigeon - well, owl - that scott moody sent."

not only did he seem cautious, but nervous now. "did dumbledore send you?" he asked dubiously.

"i honestly have no idea who that is." memorable name like that, you'd definitely remember him. no, he seemed to be quite odd to you.

"why were you following me?"

you sighed. "i'm invesitgating the death of alastor moody."

although a sadness washed over the man's face, there was something behind his expression that said he already knew. he placed the stick back into the inner pocket of his coat. "you said you were police?" you nodded.

"so you're a muggle," he mumbled. was muggle some new slang term for cop? you didn't know and even more, you didn't care. then, a realization spread over his face.

sirius -

it shouldn't be possible - if you were a muggle, how could you see grimmauld place? because of the many peotective enchantments and ancient runes safeguarding the black house, only those who were wizards should be able to see it. yet, you had watched him walk right out the front door.

"you - you're looking into moody death?" he asked. he supposed it made sense. no one knew during the battle where they fighting high in the air - it was the heat of the moment after all. it only makes sense that muggle police got to his body first. still, he couldn't understand how you could have seen the house of black.

"his case is part of an ungoing investigation into the dozens of deaths of citizens across greater britain in the past two years." ah. so the muggles were catching on to voldemort's dirty work.

"let me guess. they were all perfectly healthy, showed no signs of deah whatsoever?" he asked. of course the muggles were going insane about it. people dying left and right without them even knowing what, or who, was causing it.

"yes, how did you -"

"just a hunch," he shrugged in response to your shocked expression.

"if you know something, you must tell me," you said rather firmly, though it seemed you were under the delusion that you had any sort of authority over him. your tone was not as strong as you may have liked.

"i'm afraid i cannot -"

"cannot what?" you barked back - now that had some bite. his interest was peaked now - what had your wand in a knot? "there are people dying. these dead bodies keep showing up with no sign as to how they died. moody aparently just fell from the sky! dead bodies don't just fall from the sky," you told him with an incredulous laugh. "now you are going to tell me everything you know about these bodies, or i swear on the bloody royal throne itself that i'll - i'll - get it out of you!"

you -

"you cannot just bring some muggle girl - if she really is a muggle - into our headquarters! are you barking mad? and don't you dare make another one of your mutt jokes or on merlin's grave i will -"

"that's quite enough, andromeda," responded a rather polite and calming male voice. there was a murmur and the same man let out a sigh. "at least let the man speak first."

"fine!"

"she saw grimmauld place, she knows about moody! she didn't bloody well seem like one of voldemort's spies, she didn't even know what 'death eater' meant. besides, what was i supposed to do? let her go blabbering to other muggles about this?"

"you could obliviate her."

"i would, if i had ever learned how. besides, it's not ethical, taking away someone's memories like that."

"this is war, black - desperate times call for desperate measures."

"now why don't you get back to shoving your greasy nose down some potions notes, snivellus, and let us grown-ups -"

"you arrogant -"

there was a sudden clammer of noise, the sound of several falling to the ground and pots and pans banging all over the place. a loud thwip! and sudden silence. "stop it! the both of you! has anyone actually bothered to question her?"

there was another round of silence before the door in front of you creaked open. the man who had pinned you up in the alley, black he had been called, looked rather dismal as he invited you into the room.

after your little speech, he requested you joined him in his house. well, you were not expecting the dustiest, blackest house you had ever seen. the entry hall was so thin, you could practically feel the walls caressing your arms. you waited in the entrance hall, outside the door to the kitchen, while he talked with his . . . friends? their conversation was all very confusing, talks of war and the like. were they also part of some secret agency? you weren't sure so you remained cautious.

"hello," you said to all those in the room, your voice trembling nervously. there were six others littered across the room. a rather dreadful looking man in the corner, with a hooked nose. he looked at you with distaste. black stood at the end of the table, his palms planted onto the table. another woman with hair almost as black as the walls, who sighed at your entrance. another man, scars barraging his face, with rather kind eyes. a man with umber skin, dressed in deep blue robes decorated with silver. and finally, a redhaired woman with a rag thrown over her shoulder, a knife in hand as she stood near a cutting board.

"hello," said the scarred-man, a warm smile making your shoulders sag a bit in . . . relief? comfort? "do you mind introducing yourself?"

you revealed your badge to all and recitind your name. "i'm a forensic analyst for the london police," you recited for the third time that day. "earlier this morning, the body of alastor moody was discovered. aside from the head injury he sustained from - well, we're not exactly sure - he seemed perfectly healthy. our medical examiner has concluded that he sustained the injury after his death. as of this morning, his body was taken by an operative of a secret government agency. there have been dozens of other bodies like this over the past couple of years. i've taken it upon myself to investigate this . . . occurence. this morning i tracked down moody's father, who sent a courier - owl - here."

"and is that everything?" black asked with an arched brow, as though he thought you were hiding something. which, ot be fair, you kind of were, but it was a small, unimportant detail and rather ridiculous really. just an irrational price of science that most likely had no relevance to the murders or perhaps a suggestion towards a broken coder in your lab - "well is it?"

you hesitated to answer but felt rather intimidated by the people surrounding you. perhaps sharing everything would be ideal, even if they thought you were barking mad. "well, erm - there's this one thing. do you know what dna is, mr. black?"

black shook his head and the others looked rather confused.

"i do," the scarred man spoke. "remus. a pleasure."

you gave him a polite nod in response. "a blood sample is taken from every body that goes through the police, and we run it through our systems and upload it to a database. moody had a gene marker in his dna - an odd one. one that shouldn't be there."

remus tilted his head, indulging you. "i've had old professors look at his results, even after I reran them. they thought something was wrong with the data. that i should run it again. but i know it wasn't wrong . . . i have the same gene marker in my dna. i'm not mad. it means something. even if others can't see it."

remus looked puzzled for a moment, but as a hazy look crossed his eyes, you could see his demeanor change rather swiftly. he straightened up, and glanced towards sirius with his mouth agape.

"what is it remus?" sirius asked with concern.

"i think that she's found a muggle's way . . . to prove the existence of magic."

sirius -

no. it couldn't be possible. it simply wasn't. if remus was right, if what he said was true, not only did this mean there were rather heinous repercussions for the wozarding world, but . . . you would be in danger.

suddenly, snape stood up from his chair rather suddenly, his eyes latched onto you. his hands still wrapped around the arms of the chairs, gripping them so tightly his knuckles were white. "everyone except sirius and the girl . . . out. now!"

the others were reluctant to leave the room, but they all filed out eventually. dumbledore trusted snape, even ordered snape to kill him, so they all would have to trust snape . . . even if sirius didn't want to.

snale turned his poisonous gaze on you. "sit down."

you followed his instructions, though cautiously, and took the closest seat next to sirius. sirius hoped that implied there was some level of trust between you two, seeing as you'll need it since he couldn't let you leave grimmauld place. "while it seems you haven't been filled in, i find that i cano that rather quickly for you. magic is real and a select number of individuals can possess it - you must be among those people, seeing as only those who are magical can see this house. there has been a wizarding war for over the past three decades, lead by a man named voldemort. the goal of him and his death eaters are to kill or otherwise enslave all those who are non-magical, also known as muggles. do you understand?"

you seemed to be flabbergasted by the assault of information and it's implications, and though you were slow to believe, you simply nodded your head. sirius placed his hand on the back of your chair, protectively, almost territorially.

"snape -"

"do shut your mouth black," snape spat. "a seer, or a prophet as muggles might know them, made a prophecy not long ago. the chosen one becomes the chosen two when eighth month approaches. for someone undesireable as any, she will be hunted down like the dog. she has discovered something no muggle should know. the power to vanquish the dark lord rests in the hand of fate - and should that hand choose to vanquish her, all hope of defeating the dark lord is lost."

"snape, what in the devil's name -"

"do not interrupt me, you -"

"no!" sirius exclaimed, slamming the goblet he was holding down on the table. wine spilled out from the cup, dripping down the rusted golden edge. "that is quite enough. i'm sure our guest has gone through enough the past day. she is famished and tired. let her rest and perhaps then we can discuss whatever nonsense you're blabbering on about."

sirius turned towards you with a softer expression and gestured for you to follow him out. you glanced back at snape, he noticed, if just for a moment. but soon enough, the two of you were in the foyer sitting across from each other.

your head was buried between the palms of your hand - it was obvious that you were distressed. "are you all right?" sirius asked softly.

"all right?" you asked, glancing up at him, your tone incredulous. "all right? no, no, i am just fine. you know, I just found out magic is real and there's some wizard war going on that no one knows about. yeah, this isn't news to me at all! you know, i get to work flying around on my little witch broom like everyone else! no i'm not all right!"

"we actually do use brooms as a model of transportation, that's not a myth," sirius told you, rather factually. you didn't seem very amused by his short educational bit. "look, i know this is overwhelming -"

"why should I even believe you?" you asked, tone rising in volume, though more out of worry than anger. "i mean something inexplicable could explain moody's death, but magic? magic can't be real, it's just not physically possible! there are rules and -"

sirius stared up at you from the ground. you stared down at him. though, instead of a human standing there, it was a dog.

"what the fuck."

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #harry potter #— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]

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