#Harry Potter fanfiction
Note
congrats on another new blog for a new fandom 🤭
as a blog-warming request, can we add another fic to the best friend James with no boundaries pile???
HYPOTHERMIC - J.POTTER
you are the only feasible solution that james can think of to warm up his frozen extremities
WARNINGS: james and reader have an unconventional friendship, james and sirius being brothers as per, swearing, typical teenage antics
james potter x fem!reader || fluff || 1.8k || requests open!!
a/n: another new blog has spawned for another fandom (the marauders are encapsulating all of my thoughts rn)🤭 thanks for the ‘blog-warming’ request ml 🫶🫶
It’s a crime James thinks, to have snow in April. It never snows in April back down in England, hell they’re not likely to have snow at all.
But apparently living up north in Scotland spelled different news.
It was even more of a crime that he had to go out in the snow. Quidditch was great, but no one should have to be flying in -2° weather.
It was April, it was snowing, and James was cold.
By the time the team hit the showers he swore his fingers were going to fall off from hypothermia, a sentiment shared by most of his teammates as they spent a collective ten extra minutes under the hot water.
The trudge back to the Gryffindor common room was almost as treacherous as the training itself, the stone walls of the castle doing absolutely nothing to block the chill that ran through it’s corridors.
Sirius swears to him that he sees some of the paintings shaking, and honestly he can’t blame them, he’s practically shivering himself and he had a long-sleeved t-shirt and a jumper on.
He has one singular plan. Sit in front of the fire and stay there until he was sure that all of his organs had defrosted, even if that meant missing dinner. That was a lie, he would definitely leave the embering comfort of the fireplace for dinner.
Now he was thinking about it, he was starving. Maybe he could convince Sirius or Peter to go down to the kitchens early with him to sneak something back up.
There’s an almost unanimous sigh of relief as the team walk through the fat lady’s portrait, like their muscles relax just from seeing the familiar red and gold decor and decide to just give up right then and there.
It’s a sight to be seen for sure, a majority of the student’s who’d taken up the lounge sofas and chairs for the afternoon looking on at the group with raised eyebrows and small muttered chuckles at their collective state.
“Have fun then?” There’s a decided smirk on Remus’ face as James and Sirius drag themselves over to the nook that you and him had curled yourselves into over the last few hours, and the two boys share a glance before turning it in your paired direction with a dissatisfied glare of jealousy.
You could not look comfier if you tried, tucked in either corner of one of the long sofas right next to the fire with blankets over your laps and flushed cheeks from the warmth of the room.
James is the one to give up on his seething anger first, practically collapsing himself onto the unoccupied space between you and Remus and flopping over until he’s got his face firmly planted across your knees, a loud defeated groan rumbling from his throat and vibrating through the blanket to meet your skin.
“I’ll take that as a no—” You can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your mouth at the display, unperturbed by the side eye you gain as James adjusts himself so that he can lie on you without suffocating himself or crushing his glasses.
“I swear my organs were freezing over out there,”
“That’s a little dramatic,” Remus shakes his head from behind the book propped up against his knees, amused smirk still lining his features.
“It is not dramatic Moony, we were getting hypothermic out there, seriously,” Sirius gives a tug to James’ legs so that he can sit down with his head over the back of the cushion, and it leaves James sat on the floor as a result.
“Oi, first come first served—” James tugs one of the decorative pillows you have tucked under your arm from you so that he can throw it at Sirius’ head, and it is promptly returned by Sirius with a middle finger and a triumphant look to go with it.
James lets out a sharp scoff of indignation as he rears the pillow for another throw, but its plucked from his, stiff, frozen hands before he has the chance to.
“That’s enough both of you, we were trying to have a calm afternoon here,” You scold the two with no real malice as you tuck the pillow back into it’s spot underneath your arm, and James sighs heavily as he slings his arms over your legs to rest his chin on top of them.
“It’s not my fault Sirius doesn’t understand sofa etiquette,”
“You were hogging the whole thing,” Sirius scrunches up his face in exasperation, gesturing outwards widely with his hand and almost knocking the book right out of Remus’ lap. “Sorry-”
Remus sighs, and the two of you share a glance and a silent shake of your heads.
You loved the boys to death, but my god did they not know the concept of sitting still for more than five minutes.
That point was only further proven as James gets up from the floor to wedge himself between you and Sirius, giving his leg a deft kick in the process for payback as he tried to worm himself in between your side and the back of the sofa.
“James—” The movement laves you lost for balance, and you almost tumble right off the edge of the sofa as he invades your spot, one of your legs falling from the seat to brace against the floor.
“What? I’m cold, and you’re right next to the fire,” His invasion continues as he tugs the blanket you have draped over you towards himself until it’s covering his lower body entirely and leaving you half-uncovered.
“You can’t just kick me out of my spot—” You huff, more than a little miffed at being forcibly removed from the position you’d spent almost ten minutes perfectly arranging to make you as comfortable as possible for the afternoon.
“I’m not, I’m not,” There’s a strong grasp around your torso, and then you’re being tugged backwards until your half situated on top of him with your back to his chest. “I’m sharing your spot,” His words are emphasised by his chin landing against your shoulder and his arms encircling your waist like you’re a soft toy a child would take to bed.
It wouldn’t be too bad of a position if you couldn’t literally feel how cold James was through your clothes, like a human ice pack attached to your back.
“You’re freezing James—”
“I know,” He takes your words as an affirmation to bury his face against your shoulder, curling up his legs under the blanket and in turn forcing you to do the same. “I’m warming myself up,”
“The fire’s over there mate,” Remus and Sirius share an incredulous look at the two of you. “She’s not a heating pad,”
You have half the mind to agree with them, and James can feel the way you nod at the observation, responding with a dissatisfied grumble and his hands pulling up the hem of the jumper you’re wearing to warm his icy extremities against your skin.
“James—” The temperature makes you physically jolt, your back shooting up straight and forcing his head from it’s position against your shoulder.
“What?” He tugs you back against his chest with false innocence dripping from his vocal chords, his hands using your stomach as his own hot water bottle. “You’ll get used it it, it’ll be fine,”
“It is not fine, your hands are practically ice,”
“I was playing Quidditch in the snow,” He wastes no time in reclaiming his place with his head hidden against the crook of your neck. “Of course they are,”
“Ugh, you two make me sick,” Sirius puts his index finger inside his mouth in a mock gagging motion as he shifts to stuff his feet underneath Remus’ thighs in his own attempt at warming up.
“Sounds like jealousy to me,” James shrugs, and it jostles you slightly in his arms. “You don’t have to project Pads, we all know you’re sad because Moony won’t give you a cuddle,”
“That is not true,” Sirius huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, though his gaze turns to Remus nonetheless, and he is immediately met with a shake of Remus’ head. “Whatever,” He scoffs, raking a hand through his curls with an almost unnoticeable pout on his face. “Just get a room already will you? You’re disturbing everyone with your PDA,”
“Why don’t you just shut your mouth already?” James tilts his head with an annoyingly cocky smile, lifting his face just far enough off your shoulder so Sirius can get a good look at his expression. “I can smell your breath from over here,”
“You little—” Sirius rips one of the decorative pillows from underneath Remus to launch it at James’ head, but considering your position as a literal human shield it misses him completely, hitting you square in the face.
“Hey—” Your arms aren’t raised quick enough to block his assault, but they do return fire the minute the pillow is in your vicinity.
“Sorry sorry,” Sirius is more successful than you at blocking the projectiles pillow, laughing in the process. “Collateral damage, it’s what you get for pairing up with him,” Sirius scrunches up his nose in exaggerated disgust, and James responds by sticking one of his hands out of the blanket to flip him off.
You take the opportunity of James’ loosened grip to slip out of his arms and onto your feet, and his pettiness towards Sirius immediately turns into betrayal towards you. “Where are you going?”
“Somewhere actually quiet?” You roll your eyes at him in feigned indignation, a small chuckle bubbling in your throat. “I love you guys but you are ruining my cozy afternoon,”
“No no I’m sorry I won’t fight with Pads anymore don’t leave,” He reaches his arm out to grasp at your wrist, giving it a small tug. “Stay c’mon, please?”
You raise your eyebrow at him, clearly not believing a single word coming out of the boy’s mouth.
“I promise,” He extends his hand out with his pinky finger raised.
You give him a narrowed gaze, but upon a prompting of his hand as he waved it in your direction you linked your finger with his, and he used it as leverage to pull you right back into his grasp.
“See? It’s very cozy,” James ignores the way Sirius rolls his eyes as he shifts you around in his lap until you’re both comfortable.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
#james potter x reader#marauders#marauders x reader#marauders fanfiction#james potter#james potter fluff#harry potter fanfiction#asks 🪶
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I walked with you once upon a dream
warnings: astronomically large usage of the word "laugh", "whine" and "blush". not proofread ?? kinda ?? found this in my notes #fuckitweball
pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader
a/n: Part 2? 😊
The night had been unforgiving on you. You tossed and turned under your blanket, the wooly cover being too thick at one point and too thin at another. Every time you closed your eyes, they rolled back uncomfortably and as soon as you somehow managed to get somewhat comfortable, a song your friend had been singing the day began to play on loop in your mind, haunting you.
Finally, you somehow managed to succumb into a half awake half asleep state, but it seemed like Merlin wasn't done with you just yet.
Your mind was plagued by at least three different dreams, each one stranger than the last. War, pregnancy, the muggle movie Avatar all made a fashionable appearance, and thats why currently you're sat at the Hufflepuff table, your hair nearly not neat enough as you'd like it to be, your eyelids swollen and heavy, your under eyes tinted purple.
"Good morning, sunshine!" Cedric chirps happily as he slides into the seat next to you, his plate filled with his usual breakfast: toast and some grapes. Usually, you'd greet him right back, giving him a tight hug before discussing over both of your classes for the day, whining over the homework.
Today isn't an usual day, though. You manage to give him a small smile, weak enough to be called a grimace, even. His face is instantly taken over by a frown, his hand placed upon your forehead.
"Are you well, love? Did you manage to catch a bug of sorts?" He says, his worried expression reminding you of a mother hen. You can't help but let out a soft laugh at the thought, his worry replaced by an eye roll.
"Laughin' at me, are you now? Pffft, and to think I was worried," he huffs like a first year, offering you a glare. You've always been exceptionally good at reading people's eyes, though, so you see through his act instantly, the playful glint giving it away.
"No, mother hen Cedric. I'm fine, I just kept tossing and turning alllllll night," you giggle, the lovely sound turning into a groan halfway through. You cover your face with your hands, rubbing slow circles over your eyelids, the colourful shapes of all sizes giving you little relief.
Cedric starts going off about how you need to sleep earlier, get those very much needed 8 hours but you tune him out (like always), looking around the Great Hall instead. Most people are groggy while eating their breakfast, leaning their heads on their friends' shoulders, lids half shut.
Your eyes unconsciously drift over to the Slytherin table, curiously taking a peek at their expressions. People are wary of them, everyone knows that. Their mean faces and cold eyes leave little to the imagination, making most people grasp their wands tighter whenever walking past them.
You know better. You see better. You see their faces; their eyes bright and shining, their mouth's pulled into smiles despite the early morning hours, laughter echoing from all around the long table. It brings a smile to your face. You've always been fond of them, to everyone's surprise. You've managed to make quite a few surprising friends, too. Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theodore.
Theodore Nott. You say his name with a dreamy sigh even in your thoughts. He's sole reason your heart skips a few beats whenever you're looking over at their table, the sole reason you check your lipstick and mascara before hanging out with them, the sole reason you've bought a new, ridiculously overpriced perfume to spray on whenever you know he'll be near.
Most would call this a silly little crush, but you swear on Merlin's beard you're in love. You're completely infatuated with that dark haired boy. He's fascinating, only speaking a few words every so often to express his opinion. He's not shy, by all means. You're smart enough to realise that. He observes, not interrupting unless necessary. You're pretty sure you've seen him smile only once. That was the day you learned the Italian boy had dimples. You haven't stopped thinking about them since.
You like to think that the rare sight called Theo Nott's smile was most of the time, directed at you. The first time you caught a glimpse of one you were walking by the shore of the Black Lake alongside him, the sun setting in the distance, casting gorgeous golden hues all over the place. You rambled on about your day, this particular one having been extremely exhausting, more so than usual.
You're not really sure what made him crack one of those precious smiles, but you suppose it was a joke about your misery. Seeing him like this, it made your heart skip a few beats. The rest of the walk continued in silence, but you wouldn't have had it any other way. You wouldn't have been able to stop yourself from declaring all of your bottled up feelings to him.
Most of your walks happened in comfortable silence, but you preferred that. You liked how with him, you could just, be. Exist, without a need for a meaning. After a long day, you didn't have to force a smile to your face. You could just appear in the Slytherin common room and ask for him to come and walk. He'd always come with you, without a single utter of complaint. You'd walk with him, ask for a few puffs from his cigarette, complaining when he'd shake his head, telling you how the sunshine girl of Hogwarts could in no way be caught smoking with Theodore Nott.
Youre shaken out of your daydreams as your eyes land on a pair of grey ones. Your cheeks heat up instinctively and you pray to Helga up there that he can't see it from that far across the room. You offer him a warm smile and your heart skips a beat (or two) as you see him biting his cheek to hold back a one of his own.
A little smirk still comes through and it makes you grip the table from giddiness, butterflies swarming all around the inside of your stomach. You smile even brighter and somehow manage to tear your gaze away, trying to focus on Cedric's rambling.
".....You're not listening, are you?" He deadpans, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. You don't say anything, just offer him a sweet smile and press a kiss to his cheek before standing up and making your way back to your dorms to grab your books for the day.
First class of the day is divination. You don't think there's ever been a class that makes your eyelids heavier than that. Maybe you'll get to catch up on some of the lost sleep?
The bells rings, indicating the start of the first class. Students scurry off into different classrooms, but you're still quite far from yours.
"Shit, fuck fuck fuck," you curse softly, quickening your step. You grip your books closely against your chest and make a run for it, the sound of your shoes hitting the marble floor echoing across the massive hallway.
You burst through the trapdoor, panting softly from having to climb the ladder with your books in your hands, cutting off professor Trelawney in the middle of explaining today's lesson. She sighs and shakes her head, making you smile sheepishly at her. Hushed apologies spill from your mouth as you make your way to your usual seat in the back of the classroom but you're caught off guard as its taken already. Well, almost taken.
One of the seats seems to be unoccupied, but the other is supporting a very, very good looking Slytherin.
"Theo," you breathe out in surprise, cheeks flushing. You look at the free chair, then back at him. "Is it, is it okay if I sit here? I'm usually alone back here. Didn't expect for you to make an appearance."
He nods curtly and you thank him with a little smile, dropping your books on the desk. You sit down and try to tune yourself into Trelawney's teaching, but the heat radiating from Theo and his addictive scent are clouding your senses.
"Now, for the practical part. You are to be paired up with the person next to you. Tell each other about the dream you had tonight and search for the meaning in your books. You've got half an hour for the task."
That certainly snapped you out of your thoughts. You hear a cough next to you and you turn to face him, rolling your eyes playfully as he motions for you to start.
"Well, I don't even know where to start. I could not fall asleep, no matter what i did. When i finally managed to pass out after 5 hours of tossing and turning, i had this weird dream about snakes wanting to kill me." You start, grimacing as you begin to remember. You grab a quill and write a few keywords to the parchment in front of you.
You look back up at him to ask about his dreams but instead, you find Theodore Nott quietly chuckling to himself.
"Stop laughing, you bloke! I've had weird dreams ever since i was a kid!" You try and defend yourself, opening your book to try make sense of at least some aspect of the psychedelic visions. "What about you, though? What did you see?"
He hums in though, chewing on his inner cheek. "I saw me and you on a date at Hogsmeade."
That definitely catches you off guard. "....you what? Actually?
"Yes, actually," he chuckles, shaking his head, looking up at you. "I'm not making this up, i swear!" He adds, raising his hands in defence.
You cant help but laugh, writing that down as well.
"...we could make it a reality. If you're up tor it?" You murmur softly after a few seconds, pretty sure you're on the verge of passing out at any second. You keep your gaze down, not daring to look up. Not wanting to see his grey eyes sparkle with amusement for suggesting something so silly.
"Sure. Three Broomsticks, Saturday, eleven o'clock?" He inquires, and you barely have time to nod in agreement before the bell rings yet again. He leans closer and presses a kiss to your cheek, his signature lazy smirk painted onto his face before he mutters a simple goodbye, literally disappearing into thin air.
You sit still for a good few minutes as the classroom empties out, your hand hovering over the spot that his lips touched, a faint smile adoring your face. Holy fuck.
#theodore nott#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott fanfic#theodore nott x reader#theo nott#theo nott fic#theo nott x reader#theo nott x you#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#theo nott drabble
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the dark lord and his distraction / tom riddle
pairing: fem!reader x tom riddle
content: muggleborn!reader, swearing
summary: you distract tom from his plans. and he hates it.
a/n: this is my pt. 2 to the lamb and her wolf! idk if i like this but i kinda do but Arghh idk. there will prob be a part 3. love u guys!
read part one here!
⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
“Hello!” you chirp, skipping over, books in hand.
Tom’s not looking for company. In fact, he was actively avoiding it. He couldn’t continue to be distracted by you. He had work to be done, meetings to be held. But he’s a weak man recently. “Hello.”
You set your things down and lace your arms around his neck suddenly. He’s absolutely horrified. “Thank you for your help studying, Tommy, I’ve passed my exam with full marks!”
He clears his throat and you leave a patch of goosebumps in your wake. “You’re welcome,” he drawls. “You wouldn’t have to spend so much extra time revising if you’d only paid attention in class.”
Tom knows you’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. You’d be a mistake. It’s obvious what he should do. He should send you off on your merry way and end whatever friendship has blossomed between you, so you at least have a chance at living. For someone so obsessed with immortality, Tom knew he was a dead man the moment you strut into his life, all smiles and Mary Jane’s. But he’s selfish, and so you were dead right with him, that very minute.
He doesn’t like anything you bring. He doesn’t like the reactions you elicit from calling him Tommy and he doesn’t like how you make him happy. Or hopeful. There is no hope for him. He’s destined to live a half-life and he doesn’t like that he wants to make you live that life too.
And you’re not entirely stupid. You know there’s something strange about him and that’s exactly why you come every day with your books and snacks. You’re curious. He’s haunting— a concoction of allure and fear and it’s all but enticing. “Well, who wants to do that? You’re a far better teacher.”
His face casts the ghost of a smile. “Don’t you have chess club in 15 minutes?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there,” you say, easily. Then the realisation dawns on you: You’ve never given him your schedule. “Wait a second,” you laugh. “How do you know that?”
He holds an even tone. “Not hard to guess.”
You blink. Change the topic. “You’re very pretty, you know?”
His knees almost give out and he’s seated comfortably on a chair. “Thank you,” he whispers, trying hard not to sound surprised. He’s not unaware of his good looks, but how anyone could be so casual about it is beyond him.
You’re an aberration, he thinks. No, he’s sure. You write notes in the margins of his textbooks and fall asleep on his shoulder. And when you do so, you let out the cutest little snores and purr. Like a fucking kitten. It drives him to insanity and even deeper into his spiral.
“No, like, you are super pretty. It’s kind of otherworldly.”
He’s not too sure what to say. He’s never rendered speechless by anyone, but fuck, you’re his exception to just about everything. Instead, he stiffens and breathes out a small, “That’s kind.”
Your cheeks dimple and Tom swears he sees his future. But that’s crazy. He has to remember who you are and hell, who he is. He’s the Dark Lord, evil, no matter how you see him in that pretty head of yours. And you’re a filthy Mudblood.
It’s been two days and he hasn’t seen you anywhere. He’s starting to think there *is* no cure to his hysteria because he acts crazy in both your presence and absence. He thinks about you too much in both. He’s looked everywhere; in all your classes and even your dorm that he’s managed to find.
He’s about giving up. There is no point because you’re meant to be temporary.
“Hi,” you say, breathlessly as you appear behind him, startling him into oblivion. He’s a skilled Legilimens so he should’ve heard your thoughts as you creeped up, but he was too busy with his own about you.
He conceals his relief and narrows his eyes. “You have been gone.”
You look a little disheveled but beautiful as ever. Tom doesn’t sweat, but it feels like he’s going to. “Family stuff. You know how it goes!”
Tom doesn’t know how it goes. He’s used to abandonment and lonely holidays. He doesn’t know how it goes but he knows how it feels to dread the Christmases and Easters and summers because all he can look forward to is disappointment.
He winces. You notice and cringe. You don’t know much about his family but judging by that reaction, it’s no good. “Mm,” he manages. It’s silence for a bit. Comfortable silence. He’s secretly relishing in your company. “I didn’t like it when you were gone.”
What a fucking tool.
The corners of your lips curl into a soft grin. “You are adorable!” you giggle. He’s mortified.
You haven’t really told any of your friends about your blooming acquaintanceship with Tom Riddle. After all, he’s not really known for his friendliness. But you trust Camilla. And you’ve used up the last of your excuses for bailing on meals to study with him.
“Riddle. Are you joking me?”
Your eyebrows quirk up. “No. He’s a breath of fresh air from the Hogwarts hustle. Not much of a talker though. I do most of that.”
She smiles a little like it’s expected of you but it fades once she refocuses. “He doesn’t like us Muggleborns, you know.”
“That’s silly.”
“Only true. I heard Mulciber whispering about it. Like, they really don’t like us. No wonder he’s such a git towards me in class.”
“Have you ever actually spoken to Tom, though?” You fold your arms over your chest. You’re not too sure why you’re being defensive.
“Well, no—“
“That’s what I thought! You don’t give people chances, Camilla. You rely on gossip to fuel your opinions,” you spit.
Camilla puts her hands up in surrender and starts talking about the cute Ravenclaw boy she’s planning to ask out.
“Oh! And I think Murphy fancies you! He asked me to ask you how you felt about him.”
You thought about him for a moment. He’s nothing special but he’s attractive and you’re honestly willing to give it a shot.
Tom is fuming, hearing what you think. Listening from around the corner and it’s creepy and borderline stalker-ish but he’s begun to feel a strange protectiveness over you. Frenzy and all that.
So, yes. You’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. But… you were a desire. A selfish, greedy desire.
And Tom always gets what he wants.
taglist for this series! @helalokithor @mli345 (can’t find ur blog so sorry!!) lmk if u want to be added!
#🎞 by.ivy#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagine#hp imagine#tom riddle blurb#tom riddle x reader fluff#tom riddle fluff#tom riddle x you#tom riddle x y/n#tom riddle imagine#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle fanfiction#tom marvolo riddle#tom riddle#tom riddle drabble#tom riddle angst
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Suburban Legends
Ice hockey!James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: James tries to teach you how to Ice Skate.
Genre: Fluff, smidge of hurt and comfort
Warnings: muggle au, swearing, James is an asshole sometimes, arguments, jealousy, insecurities
~ * ~
James Potter can be a complete prick. He never means to, not really, but he can be.
You had told him you'd never been ice skating, and he had been visibly appalled. "You're dating a hockey player and you've never been skating?" he'd reprimanded, as if dating him was your one mission in life.
You'd rolled your eyes for the fifth time that day, already annoyed by his attitude, but as he ties the laces of your skates now—his shaggy dark hair falling in front of his eyes—you hide a smile.
He looks up, patting your skates, and grins. "There you go, all done," he stands and pulls you up with him. You wobble shakily on the blades, and James smiles at you fondly. A few of his friends chuckle as you hold onto his arm as he moves towards the rink.
"Honey, don't bend your ankles," he says.
You shoot him a glare. "I'm not doing it on purpose," you say, continuing to hide a smile as you hold onto him tighter, "prick." James laughs as he gently guides you out onto the rink.
The very moment your blades hit the ice, your balance becomes all wonky, and you panic, almost sliding from under James's arms. It's his turn to hide a smile as he pulls you up and glides effortlessly in front of you.
He takes your hands and slowly skates backwards as he looks down at your skates. "Okay, don't you worry, darlin', I won't let you fall," he turns to watch as his friends step onto the ice easily, "Here, look at how Lils does it."
Lily Evans skates next to you, her auburn hair falling over her shoulders, and you watch her. She looks so elegant, and jealousy sits in your stomach. You try to mimic her movements for a while with James being as patient as ever.
Occasionally, he catches you a few times so you don't fall, and you feel hopeless at this. You feel even more helpless when James's teammates and friends call out to him and ask him to skate with them.
They tease him, and he turns to them with a smirk, holding your hands, but you know he wants to join them. "You can go, Jamie, I'll be okay," you say, and you mean it. James looks unsure.
Lily adds, "I'll watch over her, Potter."
Finally, James nods and skates over to his friends. He wraps his arms around them as they act like little schoolboys on the playground. You're truly fine with James having his fun, and anyway, you don't have time to worry about him as you almost trip on your blades, and Lily catches your arm.
It feels like hours pass as your feet start to ache. You've gained a little more confidence and have moved away from the wall, but you still grip onto Lily's hand as she skates with you.
Sometimes, James sneaks up on you to twirl you around. When he does this, you smack his chest as you steady yourself and warn him not to do that again. He didn't listen, and by the third time, it wasn't funny anymore.
You really, really didn't want to fall.
Suddenly, you hear laughter before large hands grip your waist and scoop you up, higher than the previous times. James's laughter drowns out Lily's protest as you squeal. Your boyfriend turns you around, and with a little too much momentum, drops you on the ice again.
You gasp as your feet slide under him, and his smile disappears as you crash to the ground. James spreads his legs so he doesn't hit you with his blades, and you slip forward, almost crashing into the wall behind him. You hear amused laughter from James's friends.
"Shit, are you okay?" James asks quickly, his voice small, as he skates up to you again and this time helps you up with gentler hands. Your own hands hurt from the ice, and your eyes water as you feel everyone staring at you.
It was embarrassing enough to be so bad at something so important to someone you love, but this was humiliating.
Luckily, you'd fallen close enough to the exit of the rink that you could grip the wall and pull yourself out. Quickly, James is behind you as he attempts to take your hand as you walk towards the bench. Your jeans are wet, and when you sit down, you wince from how much your ass hurts.
Silently, you start to unlace your skates as the tears fall. James kneels down and covers your hands with his as he tries to stop you. "Honey, I'm sorry," he says, but you just glare at him. If he had puppy ears, they would be fully laying on his head now.
"I asked you to stop," you sniff sadly and wipe at your tears, "Why didn't you listen?"
James's heart aches, "I'm sorry," he whispers again and looks at you sincerely. "I am so sorry. That was a jerk move, love. Please, come back out onto the rink," James is begging now, and you shake your head.
"No," you say. James looks crestfallen. You look up and see that his friends have gathered around the entrance to the rink and are staring at you both. That makes you feel worse as you drop your skates and slip on your sneakers. You don't even lace them as you stand and rush out to the car.
Tears sting your eyes when you remember you'd both taken James' car and it's locked. Hopelessly, you lean against the passenger door and bury your face in your hands. A few minutes later, you hear a familiar beep as James unlocks the car.
You look up. James is carrying his skates in his hand as he walks over. His friends aren't behind him, and you feel slightly shitty as he walks up, pops open the trunk, and slides his skates inside. He doesn't speak when he closes the trunk and comes over to you. He wraps you in his arms.
You melt into his touch, cheeks burning as you press your nose into his chest. James cups your cheeks. "I'm a prick. I'm sorry. You're allowed to be mad. You told me to stop, and I didn't listen to you," he says as he strokes your hair. "Can you forgive me, lovely?"
You pull away and look at your incredibly stupid, adorable boyfriend. You want to be madder than you are, but it's so hard to be cross with James when he's wrapped his strong arms around you.
You chew on your lip, "I just wanna be good at this—like all your friends," you confess, "I thought you would like me more if I was," you finish and look away.
James frowns and takes your chin in his hand again, "What did you just say?"
You continue to chew on your lip, "You'd like me more if I was. You'd take me on cute ice skating dates, and we'd look cute and—"
James cuts you off with a loud laugh. "What are you on about, Y/n?" he runs his thumb over your lip and then kisses your nose, "Your ice skating skills have nothing, and I mean, nothing to do with why I like you. Why I love you."
Your head snaps up at the words. I love you. You hadn't said I love you yet, and your heart starts pounding in your chest. "You love me?" you whisper, wanting confirmation.
You half expect James to backpedal, to become flustered and panicked, and make up some elaborate excuse as to how his brain had forced his mouth to utter words that sounded like I love you.
Instead, he nods and cups your cheek in his larger hand, "Mmhm," he smiles fondly, "I love you." You feel warmth spread in your stomach, and all your frustration towards him disappears.
You fully melt in his arms now. "I love you too," you say after a moment, and James's shoulders visibly relax.
"I was scared you weren't gonna say it," he mutters, sounding genuinely concerned. You roll your eyes at him but lean up to kiss his mouth anyways.
"You're an idiot," you tell him in between kisses, a wide smile on your face, "But you're my idiot."
Yes, James Potter can happen to act like a complete prick, but at the end of the day, that never matters because he's yours.
Your love.
The person you love the most and who loves you the most.
#james potter#james potter x reader#marauders#james potter fluff#james potter smut#marauders fic#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter x you#marauders imagine#james potter x fem!reader#james potter fic#james potter x y/n#the marauders#marauders era#the marauders era#maraduers harry potter#marauders harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter#mauraders#hp marauders#hp fanfic#harry potter marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fanfic
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BBYG PART TWO OF GUILTY AS SIN PLEASE I LUV UR WORKSSSS
i hope you guys enjoy this!! i had a lot of fun with it. it’s technically part two but i gave it a different title sorry :)
~~~
Fresh Out The Slammer
James Potter x f!reader
warnings: smut, protected p in v, fingering, slight oral (f receiving), very slight underage alcohol but barely, morally idk how good this is, lmk if i missed any
summary: after you and Remus finally split, you and James finally come together…
word count: 2.8k
a/n: another taylor fanfic hahaha (i love this) lmk what you guys think of the end i thought it was really clever but maybe that’s just me being overconfident…
~~~
I did my time
Now pretty baby I’m running back home to you
Fresh out the slammer
I know who my first call will be to...
~~~
When you look back on your days at Hogwarts, you always wonder why you and Remus stayed together so long.
It was a week after your monumental conversation with James on the grass that your overdue breakup occurred. You had tried your hardest to give your relationship one last try, you really did. But one night as you laid next to the tall lanky boy, all you could think about was a certain pair of hazel eyes. A pair that didn’t belong to the boy next to you.
That was the final straw.
“Rem,” you said, your voice cool. “I think it’s best we break up.”
You kept your eyes on the canopy above, but you could feel him shift beside you. “Really?”
“Yes. In fact, I think this is overdue. Don’t you think?”
“I suppose so...” he replied.
You turned to look at him. Unsurprisingly, he was sitting calmly as could be with a book in one of his hands. A sigh escaped your lips, but you didn’t say anything else. Instead, you simply stood and began to dress yourself. He was the one to speak again.
“Would it be all right if we remained friends?” He asked his eyes on you for what felt like the first time in a while.
“Of course. Let’s not make it odd for everyone else,” you answered.
He looked back down at his book. “Right. Good night then.”
On the walk back to your dorm you named every reason in your head why you broke up with Remus. He was distant. He didn’t know how to treat you like a true girlfriend. The spark had died between the two of you. The relationship had truly just run its course. But as you stepped into the common room your eyes found the most significant reason.
You refused to put him on your mental list.
~~~
You didn’t know if it was out of respect for Remus or if it was intentional at all, but James waited a few weeks before making any sort of move on you. You were glad. Adjusting to a single life was strange. You no longer spent time alone with Remus, you no longer cried or had fits because of his behavior. He was simply another one of your friends. You liked him better that way.
When James did give you a sign, it was far from subtle.
It came during Charms in the form of a small piece of paper. Of course, Charms happened to be the only class the two of you had together that Remus was not in as well. In fact, the only other member of your friend group who was in the class was Peter and he never paid much attention to anything. So, when you felt the piece of paper hit your lap, you didn’t hesitate to open it.
How’s the single life treating you so far? -J
You turned your head to look at James, a smile on your lips. He was already looking at you, a similar smile on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up as you scribbled your reply and threw it back to him.
It’s better than I expected, most things are the same.
He was quick to throw it back.
That’s true except now you’re free to do whatever you’d like..
You held in a breath.
More like whomever I’d like
You let out a shaky breath at his reply.
Yeah? Well, you know where my bed is
For a few seconds, you stared at the note, not sure if you should write anything more. You turned back to look at him and your eyes instantly met his. He looked at you with a gleam that you hadn’t seen in a boy's eyes in a long time, at least not one directed toward you. So, you picked up your quill and wrote back, not a single guilty thought crossing your mind.
I suppose I’m going to know what it feels like soon too
~~~
Another long week passed before anything happened between you and him. And each day that passed only filled you with more desire. You felt almost giddy at the thoughts. A secret hookup with James Potter. It was something you’d imagined for a long time, but for so many reasons you never imagined it would actually be brought to life.
But it was.
One night, there was a party in the Ravenclaw common room that everyone was attending. Everyone except you. Or so you thought.
“Are you sure y/n/n? It’ll be so much fun,” Lily questioned. You were all in the Gryffindor common room. Everyone else was getting ready to leave, but you sat on the couch in your bedclothes.
“Yeah, I’m not really in the party mood tonight. Plus, I have some work that still needs to be done,” you answered honestly.
“Boring!” Sirius exclaimed. “Don’t worry lovely I’ll make sure to save some alcohol for you.”
“Thanks, Sirius,” you said with a laugh.
“Let’s go, Wormtail, Moony, Prongs.”
“Actually, you lot can go without me. I’m not feeling the greatest.”
Your eyes shot to James. What was he doing? You noticed what he was wearing. A wifebeater and flannel pants. You swore you never wanted to shag him more than at that moment.
“Are you serious?” Sirius groaned. “Whatever mate you’re no fun. We’ll be back later.”
“All right, have fun,” James replied.
“Bye, y/n/n!” The girls sang as they left.
You waved them all goodbye before getting up and turning to the staircase. You could feel James’s eyes burning into you from behind.
“Seems it’s just the two of us for once,” he said, his voice quieter than before.
Your stomach filled with butterflies. “Yeah, it seems that way.”
“I was wondering if you could help me with some Charms work, I know you have the homework as well perhaps we can do it together...” From the tone of his voice, you knew it wasn’t true. But still, you turned and gave him a slight nod. “It’s all in my dorm, let’s just go up there to do it.”
Deep down, you knew you should’ve felt bad. James was your ex-boyfriend’s best friend. If any of them knew about your sinful thoughts, you’d surely be thrown out of the group and shunned. However, while that knowledge made you feel uneasy, it didn’t stop you from following him up to the dorm.
The second the door closed behind the two of you, James’s lips were on yours. Though it came as a surprise, you didn’t hesitate for even a second to kiss him back. His lips were warm and soft, just how you had always imagined. It was messy and quick and when he broke it you found yourself breathless. All you could do was stare at him, your cheeks pink.
“James I-”
“We can take our time if you’d like, I’m sorry I’ve just wanted to do that for so fucking long,” he replied as if he could read your mind.
“Me too, you don’t understand.” You inhaled deeply and took a few steps deeper into the dorm you were all too familiar with. Only this time, you sat on a different bed. “This doesn’t feel real.”
He sat down next to you on his bed, his glowing hazel eyes locked on yours. “Believe me, I understand everything.”
“I just... want you,” you mumbled. It felt so good to finally say it. You placed one of your hands on his thigh. “I want you a lot.”
He smiled in a way that practically sent shivers down your spine. “I want you too.”
“So, take me. You don’t... you don’t have to be gentle,” you whispered with a confidence you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Instead of answering you with words, James leaned closer and caught your lips in another kiss. This time though, it wasn’t messy and rushed. No. It was passionate, it was a kiss that would leave you giggling on your bed when you looked back on it. As your lips moved against his you followed his lead and laid back on the mattress with your legs parted for him to slip in between.
His hands were far bigger than yours. When he slid one of them up your thigh you almost couldn’t remember how to breathe. You kissed him harder and weaved your fingers through his soft curly hair. He toyed with your shorts for a moment before carefully slipping his hand beneath the fabric. It would be an understatement to say you were wet. You were soaked. And you could feel James’s smirk on your mouth when he discovered this.
“Are you always like this?” He mumbled.
You shook your head. “Only when it comes to you.”
“Good.”
He wasted no more time and moved his fingers under your knickers, finding your clit almost instantly. You gasped, one of your hands gripped his strong shoulder tightly, and your eyes squeezed shut.
“James,” you moaned.
He began to trail wet kisses down your neck as he continued to rub soft circles on your clit. Never mind thinking straight, you couldn’t think at all. Your stomach was warm, and waves of pleasure coursed throughout your entire body. You swore you’d never felt anything as good in your life. But when your hand brushed against his shirt you sighed.
“Take it off, take everything off. Please,” you whispered frantically.
You opened your eyes to see James’s bright smile. “Since you asked so nicely.”
Without another word, he leaned back and pulled his shirt off. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring. His muscles were toned, yet he was still skinny. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, but you settled on dragging your fingers up and down his chest for a few seconds.
“Your turn,” he said.
You silently sat up and lifted your tank top over your head and threw it down to the floor. Perhaps it was the amount of lust that consumed you, or perhaps it was the amount of comfort you felt with James. Either way, you didn’t cower or feel insecure as his eyes moved across your naked breasts. In fact, you felt confident. So, you laid back down on his bed and began to pull your shorts and knickers down, your eyes not leaving his.
Only when you were fully naked did you feel a slight feeling of insecurity. James must’ve noticed this though because he leaned over you and pressed a sincere kiss to your lips.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He brushed a hand over one of your breasts. “So perfect.”
“Fuck me, James, please I can’t bear it any longer,” you replied quickly. It was true, you’d already waited so many months in silence. How were you expected to wait even a second longer?
“I think you can afford to bear it for a few more minutes. I want to have my way with you first.”
You were going to protest, but before you could he slid his hand between your thighs. He swirled his fingers over you, collecting your wetness before eventually carefully moving one of his fingers inside of you. You threw your head back and gripped his sheets hard. It was an even better feeling than you’d imagined. He kissed you hungrily as he slowly started finger fucking you.
As if that wasn’t enough, he kissed down your body minutes later before ending with his face between your thighs. You couldn’t contain your whimpers and moans. If anyone was near the Gryffindor boy's dorm, they’d surely hear you. The fact neither of you thought enough to cast a silencing charm only made it more thrilling.
By the time you reached your first orgasm, you were quite sure you’d never felt anything nearly as good in your life. Remus never cared enough to spend his time pleasuring you, at least not after the first few months. But James cared a whole lot. He touched you with his tongue and his fingers till you were shaking and panting for a break.
When he did stop you watched through heavy lids as he wiped his mouth on your thigh and began to pull down his last remaining articles of clothing. His eyes were glowing, and his glasses were almost falling off his face. You decided then that he was by far the most attractive boy you’d ever seen. And when your eyes trailed down his naked body you found yourself an even bigger reason as to why that statement was true.
“Are you on the potion?” He asked as he began to move over you.
“Yeah,” you answered, your voice weak.
He smirked. “You’re a dirty girl hm?”
“For you yes.”
“How so?”
You smiled sweetly and reached up to remove James’s glasses. “Truthfully? Sometimes I touch myself when I think of you.”
“You’ll have to show me next time.” He shifted and you felt his tip brush against your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat. “Is this what you think about?”
“S-Sometimes yes,” you said with a shaky voice.
All you could do as he slowly began to thrust into you was gasp and wrap your arms around him, your nails digging into his skin. He was big and you were still sensitive from how hard you previously came. Those factors only amplified how good he felt. Once he was fully in, he leaned down to connect your lips in another heated kiss before truly starting the shag.
Though Remus would fuck you hard, he never fucked you the way James did. James went hard, he went fast, but he also showed he still cared. At one point, he removed one of your hands from his back and pressed it against the mattress, lacing his fingers through yours. And his lips were either on yours, on your neck, or whispering sweet praises. Even the way he said your name was enough to tell you how much he cared about you.
You didn’t know how long it went on, but it was long enough that he started to grow tired. At that point, you’d already reached your second orgasm, so you decided he deserved a break. With all your strength, you flipped your positions and took some control. You lowered yourself onto him and nearly came a third time from the sounds he made.
When everything was done and over, the two of you laid next to each other out of breath and shocked at what had transpired. You felt your heart pound in your chest and a sticky feeling between your thighs. You turned your head to look at the boy next to you. He, of course, was already looking at you, his glasses back on.
“That was...”
“Better than any of my fantasies,” you told him.
“Mine too,” he agreed with a smile.
You bit down on your lip. “So now what?”
“Perhaps another go?”
That was an offer you could never refuse.
~~~
Hours later, past midnight at least, the door to the boy's dorm opened and the other three Marauders stumbled in. Sirius was far too drunk; he could barely stand up straight. That left Remus and Peter to stand on either side of him with their arms wrapped around his back protectively. All their eyes found you and James after a few seconds. The two of you sat on his bed, a foot of papers between the two of you.
“Oh, hello y/n,” Peter greeted you.
“Y/n, what are you doing here?” Remus questioned.
Sirius only gasped overdramatically. “They’re shagging! Prongsie and Lovely are shagging!”
You rolled your eyes and stood up. “Why don’t we get you to bed?”
“Can I have a go first? Before bed? Please! Is that all right Moony?” Sirius stumbled over his words as his friends dropped him into his bed.
“Nobody’s having a go unless it is Moony,” James said.
Remus turned toward you, a questioning expression on his face. “What are you doing up here?”
You pointed at the many papers on James’s bed. “Charms homework, I told you lot that’s why I wasn’t going to the party. James felt a bit better, so we just decided to work on it together.”
“Will I be allowed to use that work?” Peter asked innocently.
“Of course, Pete,” you replied. You turned back to James’s bed where he still sat, and you began to gather your work. “I should be going then.”
You held your papers close to your chest and tried your hardest not to look at James. You knew if you did, something on your face would clearly show what had really gone on. So, you kept your head down and moved as fast as you could to their door.
“Same time next week then?” James’s voice caught your attention as you were about to leave.
You looked over your shoulder and nodded, trying your hardest not to blush. “Or sooner, I’m very eager to get this work done.”
“All right, sooner, goodnight then,” James replied with a knowing look.
The last thing you heard before leaving was the innocent voice of Peter asking if he could join in and the loud laugh that James let out.
#fanfic#james potter is a simp#james potter smut#james potter#marauders imagine#marauders smut#marauders fandom#marauders fanfiction#marauders era#the marauders#remus lupin#sirius black#smut#james potter x reader#peter pettigrew#lily evans#harry potter fanfic#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fandom#harry potter smut#harry potter#fresh out the slammer#i love this so much#smutty smut smut#i love smut#the maraunders map#james & peter & remus & sirius#fanfiction#inspired by taylor swift#smutty
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https://kimberly-980.tengp.icu/ro/wW04UYI
#[tumblr]#enid sinclair#harry potter fanfiction#festival#horror movie#kpop messy#one piece#cr spoilers#kat dennings#Black Lightning#VLOG#locked husband#steve x eddie#stimboard
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can i use you up?
pairing- sirius black x auror!reader
warning(s) - angst.
a/n- a different take on my style of writing.
little train
series masterlist.
sirius wanted nothing more but to punch the wall beside him. his feet were atrociously restless and he felt something within him that he'd never felt before. he was sure his knuckles would turn white with the grip he had on the newspaper.
in a span of a few years, he'd escaped the treacherous hold of his nightmares, been accepted into a place he could happily-safely call home. he'd escaped the prison- the hell hole that bound him down, depriving him of the ever sweet freedom. he had found people he could keep close and call home.
little did he know his home was really only just the town where he'd be arrested.
he didn't know he'd be barricaded to his ghosts, tied together with his pasts and prison. he didn't know he'd been bound by shrieking dementors that'd reminded him of his memories he'd so carefully concealed within the corners of his mind.
and with each passing day, when his trial is put off, he feels his hope blur and the fire of rebellion seeded within the crevices of his heart die.
he feels his last bit of sanity fade.
*-
sirius doesn't get any visitors. he never expected any the moment he'd been thrown away into the cell. so when the dementors rattle down on the cell, he grumbles, turning and tossing onto the stone floor.
'sirius!' moody's loud voice bellows. sirius recognizes it, he's learnt to memorize it and hate it so very well.
'what is it alastor!' he screams back. he fills the rage fill him up again. he likes it when he's left alone - when he's not treated like an animal in a zoo. he feels revolting, it scars him into the very depth of his skin.
'the ministry has decided to look into your case once again.' alastor says. his fake eye moves erratically. sirius has learnt to not let the joy affect him. the dementors don't scare him, no. the memories do. so with lifeless eyes, a true contradiction to the gaze of sirius black, he stares at him.
'i thought the ministry was far too fed with injustice? did their big fat brains come back to senses again? or is today april fool's alastor?' he spits.
'black, mind it. i might change my mind.' he piercingly glares at him. he chooses to stay silent and not give him a reaction upon his statement.
'who's taking on my case?' he asks, silently. he's quietened down. he doesn't want the emotions to overrule his logics.
'i am.' a new voice replies. sirius stares for the source of the voice, suddenly interested.
you appear from the shrouded darkness. staring ahead into his piercing gaze, you stand determined on the floor. as formality you offer him your name. he shakes his head, gazing at your form up and down. you shiver under his cold gaze.
'what interests you in my case, young lady?' he asks. to establish your seriousness, you stare right through his cold gaze.
'the injustice.' you whisper. he stares at you before his face breaks into a mocking smile which turns into a harsh, cruel laughter. his head heats up with rage he's never felt before.
'injustice?' he spits. 'i've to believe suddenly all you have gotten your senses back and you should hold a trial for someone who was arrested without proper evidence?' he waits for you to say something. he notices a shift in your body language as you relax your shoulders and shift your eyes on the ground before staring into his again.
'i don't care if you believe me or not. what i can promise you is that i'll give you your freedom.' you say, so serenely. for a moment, he feels a pang of jealousy at your calm state. but it quickly dissipates when the rage controls him over again.
'is that so? what lovely words! why should i believe that you don't think i'm the killer? what confirmation do i get, young lady?'
'that's a fair point you've got there mr. black. but i believe you because...well there's no way you could've been the cold blooded killer. i can only promise you and give you the surety of my words. if you insist, i can make the unbreakable vow with you.'
'you can't do that,' grunted moody, 'it'll trigger the dementors.'
'fine. if he wants, i can make the vow on the day of the trial.' alastor grunts.
'no.'
'yes,' you emphasize. 'do you want me to make the vow? will you believe me then?' sirius stares at you. he tries to decipher through the curtain of your blank stare.
'yes.' he says, his voice quiet and seemingly calm. within him, however, he breaks. he hears the hurricane with his name on it, coming nearer and nearer. the blood rushes to his ears, and he buries the heat within himself.
so, he does his best to lay to rest all of the feelings that have been in his heart. but in his mind, they sink into a swamp.
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original idea posted by - @lilwnet
taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510
(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)
*************************************************************
#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter#marauders#sirius black#sirius x reader#sirius black smut#the marauders#sirius black x reader#sirius black imagine#marauders era#sirius black thoughts#sirius black x oc#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanart#sirius being sirius#sirius black fluff#sirius black angst#fanfiction#james & peter & remus & sirius
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The Noble and most Ancient House of Black discord celebrates 25 years of PoA
Prisoner of Azkaban, aka the Book of the Fave, is coming up to its 25-year anniversary.
To celebrate, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black Discord will be holding a small fest.
From the 23rd-25th May, either share in the discord, send me an ask or tag me (and I will reblog) in any Sirius-related stuff you want to share:
PoA microfics
Moodboards
Art
Headcannons
Anything else you want to share to celebrate.
Rules: No character or ship bashing.
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Sirius was careless.
He'd rip his clothes and laugh, lose a broom and not care, spill whisky on the couch without a glance down. He was careless with his people too. He'd say brash things that hurt feelings, give too much truth, bark too loud a laugh. He didn't notice, or maybe just didn't care.
Pansy noticed though.
He was around a lot more since Draco finally pulled his balls out of his pocket and started dating Harry.
When he was around she found someone to watch who was far more interesting than anyone else in high wizarding society. She set aside her silent judgement and cutting comments in favour of careful contemplation.
He was a slash of neon in her pastel life. She couldn't look away and he liked that.
The first time they slept together, in the back of his old Mustang, he dropped her off and she did her best to not be hurt by his nonchalance. To not wince as he drove away with a squeal of tires.
It was casual.
It didn't matter that she knew how to decode him better than anyone else, that she knew his moods by the weight of a footstep, or his desire by the tightness of his grip.
Her favorite bra ended up in his dresser, a toothbrush by his sink. She slept better wrapped in his cigarette scent than in her silk sheets at home. But she knew from the start that he would break her heart.
Her boy broke all his favorite toys.
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Can't wait to write more fics and snippets inspired by ttpd 🙌 (and Chappel Roan, and others)
Also can't wait to submit them all to the @ttpd-tears-and-all fest 💕💕
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#hp fanfic#fanfic#rarepair#snippet#sirius black#pansy parkinson
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Hermione paced the library after hours needing time to clear her head after a row with Ron.
“Well, well, well… what do we have here?”
Hermione’s eyes snapped towards the uppity, sharp sounding voice.
“Shut up, Malfoy. Let’s not pretend you don’t know why I’m here.”
Malfoy smirked, looking her up and down slowly. Then he was crowding her space, grabbing her arms and pushing her against the table.
“Weasel couldn’t get you there??” He sneered grabbing her chin.
“I’m not here to talk.” Hermione stared into his icy eyes trying not to think about his other hand digging into her hip.
“Not here to talk. Is that right, Granger?” He hoisted her onto the table and stepped between her. Leaning into her neck, Granger fluttered her eyes closed. Now it was time for some relief.
Malfoy chuckled breathing onto her neck and swiping her mane away. No kiss came. “What if I wanted to talk?” He breathed into her.
Grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer, Hermione tried to shut him up. For gods sake, why was he not just kissing her already!?
He nuzzled his nose into her neck and chuckled again before pushing away.
“What the hell!?” Hermione was enraged. From Ron to Malfoy and his snooty, rich, asshole, strikingly handsome self, men were really pissing her off tonight.
She met his eyes, red painting her cheeks in embarrassment. Malfoy was already staring at her, eyes dark and predatory.
“First you want to talk and now you’re barely even breathing. Gods, you’re so fucking moody and weird sometimes?”
His nostrils flared as he looked at Hermione sprawled on the table. He looked like he could avara her on the spot. Her eyes widened as she straightened up.
“Stop using me every time you have a little fight with your boyfriend.” His jaw ticked. Was he actually pissed off? “Better, yet. Stop talking to me altogether until you’ve fixed that situation.”
Hermione’s brows stitched together, “fixed the situation? What…”
“Oh, please, don’t play fucking dumb. You’re much brighter than this.” Malfoy scoffed, “maybe we can resume this and move our little library rendezvous to something more comfortable. Dump your little weasel and we’ll talk.”
“I…” Hermione was completely bewildered.
“No.” He breathed sharply, “Send me a note when you decide what to do.”
And with that he was half way down the aisle.
Hermione didn’t realize she was holding her breath… so much for clearing her mind.
#harry potter fanfiction#my fanfiction#dramione art#draco malfoy#dramione#dramione fanfic#dramione fandom#draco x hermione#short fiction
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Here is Where I Want to Stay
“Fred, do you have a mo–”
Before you could finish your sentence, the office door crashed open with the arrival of his twin.
“We have a problem.”
The tone in George’s voice made it clear the problem needed immediate attention, and the two of you rushed out without hesitation. Fred squeezed your shoulder in passing, however, reassuring you that you’d find another time to speak.
Except, it seemed like everything and everyone was out to interfere.
No matter the time or place, whenever you approached Fred, something would happen that would pull one or both of you away. Not even the shop closing gave you the privacy needed, as not even half an hour after locking the door and cleaning up, Ron clattered down the stairs trailing soot from the flat.
“G-Ginny! Th-the baby! It’s coming!” He gasped out the news and bent at the waist as he attempted to catch his breath.
George scrambled to join Ron as they ran back up, but Fred paused just long enough to throw you a look.
“What are you waiting for? Go! I’ll close shop.” You shooed him along with your hands, earning a grateful smile and wink.
“Thanks, love! We’ll chat later, yeah?”
Then he was gone, leaving you alone in the now quiet store. It felt strange to be the last one, despite having worked there for over a year now as you finished your Runes mastery.
What you didn’t expect was how fun each and every day was with the twins. They didn’t hesitate to pull you into product development and testing, and you found modern applications for runes that you never would have considered in the past. You were so invested in your projects with them, that you neglected your post-graduation job hunt as months passed you by. It was easy to forget about the outside world when working with the twins, especially Fred.
Fred, with his crooked grin and easy laugh. Fred’s eyes that sought you out without fail. He didn’t just look. He saw you with all your insecurities and curiosities and knew just what to say and do to fire you up. Everyday, you went back home alone, and everyday, you told yourself you’d tell him how he made you feel the next time you were alone together.
With a wave of your wand, the lights went out in the shop, but instead of leaving, you took one last look around. Just enough light from the street lamps outside streamed through the window to cast a glow over the polished wood shelves. Maybe it was time for you to bid farewell and move on.
“You’re still here.”
You whirled around at the familiar voice, nearly crashing into his arms as they flew up to catch you. “Fred! What are you doing back already? What about Ginny?”
You felt as much as saw the quirk of his lips in the shadows. “She’s good, as is the baby. It’s a boy. They named him Albus.”
He had yet to drop his arms. They remained circled around you, hugging you close enough to breathe him in. Citrus, smoke, home. You felt faint. “Good. That’s good.”
“What was it you wanted to tell me all day?” His breath tickled your ear.
You didn’t expect his face to be so close to yours when you turned to answer. He’d bent down towards you and now you hovered mere millimetres from one another. The air around you almost tripled in density, fighting your attempts to draw in one damn breath.
“I…” You stuttered to a stop, uncertain of how to phrase your longing.
“You?” His palms smoothed up your back to press you even closer.
“I want…”
How could you think with the way he brushed back a loose curl, or how he brought that same hand to the base of your neck, fingers threading into the strands and thumb rubbing circles against that sensitive spot behind your ear?
“What is it you want, love?” he murmured, lips nearly brushing your own.
“You.” The answer escaped before you could hold it back, rephrase it into something more eloquent.
His thumb stopped its circling and slid down to press upward against your jaw until your eyes met his. “That’s good.”
“It is?”
He hummed in assent. “Otherwise what I’m about to do would be very awkward.”
You had only a second to register the wicked grin that spread from cheek to cheek before you felt a yank to your navel. With a snap of his fingers, the lights turned on just enough for you to take in your surroundings.
“Is this…your flat?”
You knew the answer before he even gave it; there was no questioning in whose room we stood. Those were Fred’s work boots next to the door, and there was his coat hanging on one of the hooks lining the wall. A small pile of books on Runes and Arithmancy sat on the nightstand of a bed made up in navy blue and cream.
“I didn’t bring you here under any pretence. I just wanted to give us a bit of light and privacy since George should be home soon.”
“We could have walked up here,” you teased.
His cheeks turned a delightful pink. “I might have been showing off a bit.”
He barked out a laugh when you shoved him back onto the bed and he bounced in place.
“A bit? You cast those spells wandless and wordless.”
Then you were on him, straddling his hips and tilting his face up towards your own. His reaction was instantaneous, hands grasping your hips and squeezing tight.
“I meant what I said. I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” His hands said otherwise as they slid down to cup your bottom.
Riding high on the confidence you’d lacked earlier, you saw no further reason to hold back. “Well, with your permission, I intend to snog you breathless.”
You squealed at the sudden shift as he rolled you both over and caged you in place. “You have my whole-hearted permission.”
Except, it was him who dived into the kiss first, tasting of whatever sweet treat he’d had earlier. It was him who pulled back to gaze down at you with a soft smile. It was also him who confessed, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you like this for months now.”
“Well, why didn’t you?”
With a little laugh that you pocketed to cherish later, he admitted, “There always seemed to be something coming up: rampant Pygmy Puffs, rogue frisbees, the nonstop disaster that is my family–” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, the usually bright blue of his eyes darkening as he stared at you.
“What?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous at his continued silence.
“I’ve fantasised about us countless times, but to have you here with me still seems too good to be true. I’m going to wake up any minute now and find that this was all a dream.” He leaned forward, brushing past your cheek, to bury his face in the loose waves of your hair. A hand swiftly followed, burrowing and kneading and relaxing all the muscles in your body. “But this feels so real.”
“That’s because it is real.” You cupped his cheek, thumb catching along the stubble lining his jaw, and brought him up to look at you. “I am here with you, and here is where I want to stay.”
So, you did.
WC 1242
Cross-posted on FB, Tumblr, and AO3.
4.18.24 Hump Day prompt: “Can I speak with you for a moment?”
More second-person POV. It's been fun writing reader insert, mostly because I get to imagine it's me experiencing these moments ;) I hope you don't mind!
#harry potter fanfiction#Facebook: Weasleys Witches and Writers#fred weasley#reader insert#fred weasley x reader#harry potter flashfic
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Dear Diary || Cedric Diggory
Cedric Diggory x fem!reader || 5.2k words, fluff-ish, banter and awkward confessions !
Reader and Ced are both seventh years and Ced is head boy!
Warnings: slow and sappy smut, unprotected p-in-v, clothed sex , first times !!!
Summary: Cedric finds your diary, what's the worst that could happen?
---------
Cedric was idly perusing the shelves of the library on one fine afternoon, if the wads of homework given and expected to be completed by the end of the Easter holidays were not taken into account. He sought for some books that he could use as reference for his essay in History of Magic, a particularly tricky one, on famous and historical duels.
Though, his initial intentions were long forgotten as he noticed something. His attention was drawn to a small, forgotten notebook left on one of the study tables. He looked around to see if any sign of the owner was around. Once the coast was clear, he took it as a go-signal. Carefully, he picked it up with curiosity as he examined the notebook.
The cover was brown, its material being that of leather. It had a few tears, but it looked okay enough to be passed as a choice of style. It is decorated with intricate golden patterns on it, engraved with small jewels for design. The bottom was labelled with your name handwritten on, and the pages seemed to be slightly tarnished. He assumed you had kept it for a couple years or so.
But what was most intriguing was that it had been padlocked shut. He figured out that it was no ordinary notebook, probably a diary of sorts, piquing his interest.
As much as he knows not to stick his nose in things he is not supposed to, he couldn’t help but feel interested in what was not supposed to be of his concern. He was not going to tell anyone what’s inside, nor was he going to judge— it is not like you would know either if he did look through it.
But, he supposed a little peak would not hurt, right? He is going to give it back the next time he sees you, anyway.
Though, it was locked… It is nothing a simple alohomora charm could not fix. He pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the lock. He gave it a flick, chanting the spell out quietly. The padlock fell on the floor with a dull thud. He picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket, to seal it up afterwards to conceal any trace of him ever snooping around.
He flipped through the pages, becoming increasingly fascinated with what he read, some even dating back to seven years. Family issues, random stuff about life at Hogwarts, such as rants about homework, housemates and whatnot. The first thirty pages was about you mainly figuring out things back then as a first year, and a bunch of things you were astonished to discover.
It was really what your typical teenage girl would write; little things such as that cat you tried to pet in the first year that turned out to be Professor McGonagall, hallway crushes, that time you snuck in the restricted area of the library, so on— and the mundaneness of everyday life. It was pretty much a bunch of stuff about what goes on during your days.
When he got to the fourth year, he started seeing his name being brought up occasionally— he of course, stopped on those pages to read them— interested in what your perspective on him was. He started with the first page mentioning him:
DEAR DIARY,
I met this guy named Cedric Diggory. He’s popular, tall and good-looking too..
He helped me out with my herbology homework. I was really struggling, good thing he stepped in. Though, maybe I was too busy staring at him to really pay attention to what he was teaching me. (Well, who can blame me???)
I know so many girls who would kill to have that happen to them. Wonder what got me so lucky today, maybe those Lumos Lucksweets I ate last night that I got from Honeydukes during Halloween.
I always thought he was cute, though I always felt too intimidated to approach him. Hopefully we can become friends.
He felt a bit surprised, a faint blush tainting his cheeks as he smiled softly. He would be oblivious if he didn’t know he was sought after by both women and men, albeit it still doesn’t make him any less flustered. You were one of his friends, yes, but he had never stopped to think that you thought of him in that way. You didn’t make it obvious either.
He mostly skimmed through its pages, but stopped to read whenever he saw his name brought up– about how you talked about each of your interactions; “Cedric helped me with…” “Cedric and I went out to…” “I think I like him..” Cedric this, Cedric that.
You like him. Or liked him. It only clicked with him now, though he would have to keep reading if he wanted to know if you still felt the same. (Because he definitely did.) Be that as it may, he still definitely had no idea on how to confess. Plus, it was too late to turn back any time now. He continued to leaf through its contents.
But it was not until he got to last year’s pages that some things really stuck out. At first it was about wanting to kiss him on the cheek as you sat beside him in the library whilst you two studied for your transfiguration exam. Then the next time you talked about it being on the lips.
You even went into detail how you thought his lips would feel, then it was about how you so badly wanted to make out with him after you watched him after his quidditch practice because in your words, not his–
He looked so hot.
The more he read through, the material written within progressively escalated. Soon, it was about how you felt guilty by using the thought of him as a means to get off.
Now I feel guilty. Yes, I know– it is wrong of me to finger myself at the thought of my really really really hot friend who I also happen to have a crush on, no I’m not being sarcastic, yes, it was just once. Just this ONCE, I got carried away… Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry, Cedric.
He actually found it quite adorable how you were apologising in a diary. He was also extremely flustered at this point, a little bit horny and at the same time, confused. He nonetheless continued, reading several entries about how you admitted to having several fantasies of you being fucked by Cedric, what you think he would be like in bed, yada yada yada.
You admit throughout several logs that what was supposed to be a one-time thing, turned into nightly endeavours filled with a big ounce of shame afterwards.
Once he felt content, he got the padlock and clicked it back in place as if nothing ever happened, and took it with him as he went on his way. He figured it was best that he give it back the next time he ran into you.
Aside from that, his day passed by quite like any ordinary one, though he hadn’t seen you at all. On his way down to the Great Hall, he caught a glimpse of you walking whilst talking to some of your friends– though you quickly disappeared into the crowd of students flocking towards the hall for dinner.
Afterwards, most students are headed towards the library or their respective common rooms, Cedric ought to do the same.
Meanwhile you were searching every nook and cranny of everywhere you had been within the entire day, searching for that damned diary since the afternoon. You had traced back your steps to the beginning of the day, starting off with the common rooms, the great hall, then you had snuck into the several classrooms you were in earlier. In the potions dungeon, you were almost caught by Snape, you hid in time (you pride yourself on being an absolute pro at hide and seek) and just by the skin of your teeth.
You would stop at nothing until you actually find it, the thought of someone else getting your diary sends shivers down your spine. You just hope if someone did, they’d have enough of a sense of privacy and decency not to look through it. If this keeps up, You would have to be looking throughout the entire night and without being caught at that.
You doubt any of the staff would actually care about finding it if you had simply asked. You had tried that once when you lost one of your textbooks, you managed to find it, no thanks to anyone but yourself. And you would think if you would ask any of your professors, they’d probably say (the textbook) was miles more important than some journal with sentimental value.
Before you knew it, you were definitely up past curfew hours. Currently in the library, you were looking everywhere– on and under each of the chairs and tables, the shelves, you were seriously considering going to check the restricted section if you were not able to find it here. Perhaps the librarian thought it was a book, too. You froze in your place as you heard footsteps other than yours echoing as someone entered the library.
–
Cedric was doing his rounds and surprisingly, tonight was not that half-bad. No pesky students loitering around, so far that is. Currently surveying the corridors, classrooms– he is now heading towards the library, hearing faint shuffling noises coming from the sound of it. So it was not a quiet night after all, he thought. He placed his bets on who he thought it was this time, and the lot of students who regularly snuck out was not much to choose from anyway.
Though, he was completely wrong this time. It was you. He flashes you a grin, nearly forgetting his duties as Head Boy to supposedly escort you back to your dorm since it was late hour. He could also give your diary back while he was at it, he was getting tired of having to cling on to it just at the chance he would run into you. But he had thought to strike up a conversation first, because why not?
“Hey,” Cedric greeted you, approaching you slowly. “Hi,” you gulped and said awkwardly. You interrupt him before he could even say a word, “I-I know what this looks like,” you stammer, figuring out the right words to say as you try reasoning with him. “It sounds like a ridiculous thing to ask of you, I know– but don’t tell anyone,” as you speak, you’re also in plenty of disbelief that the literal head boy of all people would give you leeway for sneaking out like thi. Even if he is your friend, and even if it were just once.
“And why shouldn’t I?” He said so casually, as if you two were having a normal conversation; as if he were not on patrol at all and he hadn’t caught you outside your dormitory past the given curfew. He also knew damn well why, it was just fun eliciting a reaction from you. He was of course going to eventually give it back. “It’s so late, you should at least be in your common room around this time, you know?” He points out as well.
“Well, for one, I’ve been a good student this year, this is the only time I snuck out.. And, I have a reason for sneaking out–! It’s not for anything bad, I promise, it’s just I’ve been looking for my damn diary the entire day.. I must’ve lost it somewhere– look, I swear I’ll go back to the dorms right now if you please, please, don’t tell me out to anybody.”
You begged him, clasping your hands together for dramatic effect as you gave him those puppy eyes you use whenever you wanted something from him. (Such as when you begged him to buy whatever you wanted when you two went to Zonko’s that one time. P.S. It worked.)
“You mean this thing?” he said slyly. As he pulled out your diary, he gave a look of mischievousness. He watched as your eyebrows raise up, a look of relief plastered on your face as you sigh. You walk towards him, extending out your arms as you make grabby hands. “Oh, yes! Yes, that’s the one, now if you could just give it back–” then, that’s when you get cut off.
“Ah, ah, now wait just a moment,” he said, raising the arm with your diary in his hand so you couldn’t reach it. “I’ll let you off, and I’ll give it back if,” taking a deep breath before he spoke again, wondering if he should really be doing this. It was now or never. “You give me a kiss.”
He found it really amusing as a blush formed on your face, completely flustered as your eyes widened in a look with a mix of shock and disbelief. You had stopped grabbing for your diary, as you opened your mouth to say something, but you were rendered completely speechless. Was this just a dream? Surely it was, it was too good to be true…
“Ha, ha. Very funny, Cedric,” you fake-laugh, your tone being fully sarcastic. Seeing if he is just playing around with you. “No way in hell I would,” you add, just in case he really was joking. (Maybe you have slight trust issues.) “Just give it back.” Despite that, he looked dead serious. He stared you down, not breaking eye contact, making you gulp nervously. “Please?”
“Oh, come on,” he says as his voice drops, sounding more sultry. “I’m not gonna do anything unless you let me, but I know you want to.” His eyes observe your lips. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t touch you at all since you hadn’t given your consent yet. He kept his hands to himself, letting his body language do the talking.
“Now what makes you say that?” You squint your eyes as you give a questioning look at him, acting, or trying to at least, unaffected. You still had your guard up, because seriously, what was up with this guy today?
“Now, why’re you acting like you don’t want it? Hmm?” He smirked, “Could make all those fantasies of yours in that little book come true, you know.”
You looked mortified, as if you had seen a ghost. The last bits of your dignity withered away, long gone at this point. You wanted to shrivel up and sob in a corner out of pure humiliation. He read your diary. “No way, you read it!?” You slap his arm as you cover your face in sheer embarrassment. “Privacy exists, you know–!” Cedric let out a guttural laugh, unable consistently to keep up his flirty demeanour. “Hey, better me than anyone else, right? Besides,” he leaned on one of the bookshelves.
“I like you.”
If you thought you couldn’t get any redder, you were awfully wrong. You didn’t know what to say, as you practically threw yourself at him in an embrace. “I like you too…” you said, your voice muffled as your face was buried in his chest. “This is so embarrassing.”
He wasted no time in hugging you back, his arms wrapped around you. It was like you put on a warm blanket. You two stayed like that for a while, enjoying eachothers company. The moment of silence was interrupted as he said, “I should probably ask properly.” You look up at him, waiting for what he has to say. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He finally says.
“What do you think?” A rhetorical question.
“I need a yes or no, not a ‘what do you think’.”
“If you actually read my diary, you already have your answer.”
“Well then, it’s official,” he smiles. “Can I get that kiss now?” He says impatiently. You waste no time, tipping on your toes as you press your lips against his, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. He wraps his hands around your waist, pushing you softly against a bookcase. It was chaste and passionate, as your lips intertwined as you two kissed in a slow rhythm.
You pull away, catching your breath. “By the way, this doesn’t mean I forgive you for reading my diary,” you blurt out, Cedric chuckling at that.
Before you knew it, he was grabbing your wrist and leading you to his dorm room. It was clear to the both of you where this situation was going. As you walked together, your heart raced in anticipation, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooded your senses. You both stopped in your tracks as you reached a portrait, that of Helena Ravenclaw’s. He mumbled the password and the portrait swung open, walking in whilst ducking his head over the small entrance and motioning you to come in as well.
You assumed this was the heads’ common room, it was circular and decorated quite lavishly. If it were not for Cedric, you would have taken more time to admire the interior. It was definitely plenty grand compared to the regular ones. Though, you quickly were grounded back into the situation as he led you to his dorm– Head Boy’s–completely away from prying eyes. Oh, bless Cedric for being head boy and whoever decided that heads should have their own room.
He slams the door shut behind you two, pinning you to it. Tension flooded the room, it was practically suffocating. He wastes no time, cupping your chin as he tilts your head slightly upward to make you look at him. He leaned in for a second kiss, your lips puzzle together once more. His hand interlocked with yours tightly as he held it up against the door panel, keeping you in place.
It was not as innocent as it was the first time, in fact quite the opposite– amorous. It was far from perfect, given both of you were not experienced. All your knowledge came from things such as muggle films, you think.
You remembered how they opened their mouths slightly, imitating what you saw in fiction. You slowly gaped open your mouth, Cedric immediately getting the hint as he slid his tongue inside. You both attempted to swirl each other's tongues together, yet it was more clashing your tongues together with no rhythm whatsoever, in hoping something just works. Though it didn't make it any less hot, if anything, it was more.
It was awfully sappier than one would might like, but you two were both (not-so hopeless anymore) romantics. Perhaps it was the entire three years of obliviousness and pining for each other being poured into this moment. Though, given what you two are about to do, it is a bit fast for an official relationship. Well, yeah, as much as you just got together.. You both couldn’t help it nor wait anymore, not wanting to waste any more time, not after so many years with your feelings going unsaid.
He took heavier breaths, grabbing ahold of your waist as he pressed himself closer against you. You both flushed, a bit embarrassed and nervousness surging through your veins as you gasped when his half-chubbed dick pressed against just above your groin. You couldn’t deny– you felt scared, a bit hesitant but you knew you wanted this more than anything.
While you still kissed, you both toed off your shoes and made a beeline for the bed (a sad attempt). Because your senses of navigation clearly dwindled, not a care in the world but each other. You two accidentally bumped into one of the small tables, knocking down some of the books that lay on them. “Oops,” Cedric said lightheartedly. Pulling the both of you out of the moment momentarily, you two laughed and just chalked it up to fixing it later.
Finally reaching the four-poster (which was a lot bigger than the regular ones), even if it were a few feet away from where you two initially were, it was quite the journey. Cedric, who was the one leading out of the two of you, practically tripped you both into bed as he rested atop you. “Ced!” You squealed, “you’re crushing me!” light-heartedly, you say, as you jab at his chest playfully, in an attempt to push him off.
“Well..not my problem, princess,” he laughed as he buried his face into your neck. Sucking and nipping at the flesh, leaving red marks on you as he placed a kiss on each one to seal them afterwards. “May I…?” He says, his hand trailing up to grab onto the hem of your tie, ready to pull it off. You give him a small, silent nod. He takes his time with you, as if he were unwrapping a huge present.
He begins by pulling off your tie, discarding the article of clothing to a random corner of the room. The same goes for your robes, sweater, dress shirt…all long gone and forgotten. You were merely left with your undergarments and skirt on, as well as your socks. He stops dead in his tracks, taking a step back as he takes the sight of you in.
“I forgot to tell you how beautiful you are.” He says each word clear as day– you’ve never heard anyone more confident in your life. You blush profusely, hands covering your face to conceal it. “I’ll die from those compliments before you actually start doing anything, you know?” You babble, too florid to think of words to form.
He trails his hand, leading it down to your underwear, tugging down at the hem of it as to pull them off. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, though not a hint of apology in his voice. You mutter something about him not being forgiven, ouch, so now he has two things he is yet to be forgiven for. He just smiles innocently back at you, lips all pouty as you pretend to sulk about it. (Obviously jokingly) When in fact, you wallow in the praise.
He leans into your ear as his hands now teasing at your folds, you let out a soft moan at his touch. “Guess I’ll have to make it up to you, huh?” He says in a low, gravelly voice. Which had absolutely no right to sound that hot. “Please, Ced,” you say, trying not to sound like you were begging for it. “Wait,” he stops, getting up and begins to rummage through his drawer, looking for something. You look at him quizzically, wondering what he is doing and looking slightly disappointed at the loss of sensation.
After a few more seconds, he pulls out a small vial of a clear flaxen liquid and examines it before walking back to you. “Um, I’m really sorry, d’you think this’ll do?” He shows you the vial, which you had assumed to be a natural oil of sorts. “I, er, don’t have any lube.” He says awkwardly. “I mean, if you’re not comfortable we don’t have to–” You cut him off immediately, quickly divulging that, “No, no, we– we can. I’m fine with it.” Okay, you definitely sounded a bit desperate. He nods, uncorking the vial as he coats his fingers with a fair amount.
“I’ve never done this before,” he says, prodding two fingers at your pussy. “Just– just tell me if it hurts, okay? Tap my shoulder two times if you can’t speak.” You nod, and with that, he eases in slowly his fingers, your breath hitching as you feel his fingers slip inside you. It feels uncomfortable, causing you to shift in your position slightly. Cedric quickly stops inching his fingers inside as he asks if you’re okay. You tell him that you’re fine and to keep going, assuring yourself and him that it is normal. Hopefully you’ll get used to the feeling.
He continues, eventually now fully inside you. “Let me know when, um, I can move them, okay?” He says caringly, not an inch of attention wavering away from you. After a bit, you give him the go-signal to move and he starts dragging his fingers out of you, albeit slowly, and pushing them back inside. He watches you attentively, carefully studying your expressions, your body language– His erection was straining against his pants at this point, begging to be freed, but of course he wanted to make sure you were thoroughly prepared.
“Ah, Ced, mhh, maybe if you curl your fingers a–ah bit–” you moan, still feeling a slight discomfort and pain, though pleasure slowly seeps through. “Like this?” He says, as he curls his fingers inside you, moving in and out with languid strokes. You let out a particular wince, though you nodded in approval. “Yes, just like that– ah,”
It was not anything you were not used to, though you always felt guilty whenever you did such things to yourself. Especially if your only barrier to privacy is the curtains on your four-poster. Though it took a bit of adjusting, because Cedric’s fingers were no doubt bigger than yours. You feel your stomach curling, the feeling of release catching on to you. Cedric must have had a sixth sense, or really good observational skills (perhaps all that astronomy paid off.) because he pulled his fingers out of you the moment you were about to. You whine instinctively in response.
Before you knew it, he was getting rid of his sweater, taking off his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt, tossing the apparel in the same corner where your clothes went, though leaving his unbuttoned shirt on. You watched his every movement intently, feeling yourself getting wet at the sight of him undressing. He is tall, lean, and burly– has a good build from all that quidditch. Amen for that.
Your eyes begin to linger down to his trousers, and a very obvious bulge that you can’t help but stare at. He continues by unzipping his fly, though not pulling down his pants. He tugged at his grey boxers just enough to release his cock from its confines, coating it with a light layer of the oil he had used earlier. You could not help but stare, your pupils dilated, clouding your eyes darkly with arousal. He crawls in between your legs as he now hovers atop you. He aligned his cock, tip pressing into the folds of your pussy.
“M’nervous,” you mumble, almost nonsensically, though Cedric understood what you had tried to say. He leans in, placing a kiss on your forehead as he gently caresses your cheek, “If you’re feeling pressured, we don’t have to, y’know. We can just… Stop here, we can continue another time if you’d like, when you’re ready.” He says softly, warmth naturally oozing through his voice like honey, sweet and assuring.
“No,” you say, quiet but firmly. “I want to.”
“Then we will, just tell me when you’re ready. I’ll be gentle.” He says, and his words make all your worries slowly ebb away. You feel safe with Cedric. You press your hips down onto his dick ever so slightly, letting the tip slide in. You gasp at the foreign feeling, nervous to fully take it all in. He notices, and as well lets out a soft moan, asking if he has permission to continue. You breathily say a yes, and that’s when he unhurriedly starts to push inside you.
It feels completely new, slightly painful with a twinge of pleasure. You shut your eyes, wincing at the sensation. Cedric examines your expressions as he inches in, checking for any signs of discomfort. He stops for a moment to ask if you’re okay, noticing your brows knitting together with your eyes shut. You assure him you’re fine, and tell him to keep going.
Eventually, he bottoms out inside you, though he doesn’t move immediately. You two just sit there for a good minute or two, kissing softly as your lips move in unison. Pulling away, panting as you say, “m-move, please,”
And who is Cedric to deny you of that? He began moving his hips slowly and shallowly, not wanting you to take too much at once. You also started getting a bit used to the feeling, though it was still mostly new to you. It didn’t feel as painful as it did, moaning in pleasure as he moved his hips.
He then pulled out his cock, teasing you, and easing back in steadily, causing you to moan wantonly out loud. His thrusts still slow, but begin to get deeper as he holds your legs open. He was vocal too, nothing short of chanting your name and praising you in a gravelly voice, groaning and grunting ruggedly as he fucked his cock far into you.
“You’re such a good girl f’me,” he pants, both of you moaning as he rocked his dick back into you with a particularly deep thrust. While the discomfort still remained, you grew more accustomed to the feeling of gratification that grew increasingly.“Ha– ah, harder, Ced,” you say, gasping in between your words. He did nothing shy of it, but not anything that he felt like would be too much for you.
“Merlin, y’feel so good,” he says huskily, moving his hips rhythmically slow, hard and deep as you’re reduced into a moaning mess. Your arms flail to the side of your head, grasping on the sheets as you arch your back. You were mumbling nonsensically, and Cedric laughed breathily as he told you how cute you were. He could only barely make out what seemed to be an I love you. “I love you too, princess,” he groans as he leans in and leaves a few more marks on your collarbone and neck.
You splay your hands onto his back. Digging your nails into his skin, leaving marks of your own though unintentionally. You drag your nails down his broad back, grabbing onto him as he knocks the wind out of you with each thrust.
You feel a fire pooling low in your abdomen, as well as the heightening sense of arousal as Cedric kept thrusting inside you. You feel your pussy tighten around him, “Mmh, Ced, I think I’m gonna–!” You squeal, Cedric grabs your hips and quickened his pace by a bit. “Go on, sweetheart.” He says low, letting his breath into your ear, moving down to kiss your neck. Reaching your limit, you feel your orgasm ripple through you.
Cedric kept going, though you could tell he was close, too– his thrusts growing sloppy as the echo of skin to skin and moans from the both of you filled the room. His hips jerked a few more times as he finally sheathed fully and deep into you, as you two let out a long, drawn out moan as he was spilling his load inside your pussy.
Clenching around his cock greedily, it’s as if you were going to wring him dry. You feel the way his cock pulses as he cums in you, a white ring pooling around the base of his cock with your mixed juices as it trickles down your folds.
He collapses atop you, letting his head rest between your breasts as he’s still inside you. You two lay like that for a while, basking in the silence of the afterglow. You suddenly interrupt as you say, “Okay, maybe I forgive you..”
He smiles and scoffs at that. Eventually, he pulls out and lays beside you, cuddling you from behind as you two exchange ‘I love you’s’ as you two drift off into sleep.
#cedric diggory smut#cedric diggory x reader#harry potter#cedric diggory#cedric diggory x you#cedric x reader#hp smut#cedric diggory x reader smut#cedric diggory x female reader#cedric diggory imagine#cedric diggory oneshot#harry potter universe#smut#female reader#harry potter fanfiction
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On the topic of Lionheart...
Anyone else feel as if @greenerteacups LIONHEART has changed their lives? No? Just me? 🦁
But honestly, this Dramione fanfic is so good I don't know how I'll read anything else ever again. Check out the WIP if you haven't already. I HIGHLY recommend it!
#dramione#dramione fanfiction#dramione fandom#harry potter fanfiction#hermione granger#draco malfoy#fanfiction#dramione writers#harry potter fandom#lionheart#ao3 fic recs
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warm; draco malfoy pt 3
part 1 part 2
summary: after many gentle touches and stolen kisses, draco finally asks you the question you've both been anticipating.
warnings: suggestive
as the morning light filtered through the curtains, you stirred from your peaceful slumber, feeling draco's steady heartbeat beneath your cheek. with a content sigh, you opened your eyes to find him already awake, watching you with a soft smile.
"good morning, love," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before trailing his lips down your jawline, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses that sent shivers down your spine.
your breath hitched as draco's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their on your skin. every touch, every caress, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, until you were lost in a haze of desire.
just then, the door to draco's dorm room creaked open, and blaise zabini sauntered in, a mischievous grin on his face.
"well, well, what do we have here?" he teased, raising an eyebrow at the sight of you and draco tangled up in each other.
draco rolled his eyes, but a hint of amusement danced in them as he reluctantly pulled away from you. "mind your own business, zabini," he retorted, amused.
blaise chuckled and flopped down onto his own bed, feigning innocence. "just making sure you're up for breakfast. wouldn't want to miss the feast, would we?"
with a shared eye roll, you and draco pulled yourselves from each other's embrace and got ready for the day ahead. as you made your way to the great hall, hand in hand, draco's touch lingered on your skin, electrifying every nerve in your body.
breakfast was a lively affair, filled with laughter and light-hearted banter. you couldn't help but steal glances at draco, who sat beside you, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on the back of your hand, sending shivers down your spine.
after breakfast, you found a quiet corner of the common room and took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to come. it was time to tell pansy.
"pansy, can we talk?" you began, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach.
pansy looked up from her book, her curiosity piqued. "of course, y/n. what is it?"
taking a seat beside her, you took a moment to gather your thoughts before speaking. "i... i wanted to tell you about me and draco," you started, your words cautious yet earnest.
pansy's eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered, a smile tugging at her lips. "oh, I see. well, it's about time, isn't it?"
relief flooded through you at her supportive reaction, and you couldn't help but return her smile. "you're not mad?"
pansy shook her head, her expression softening. "of course not, y/n. I just want you to be happy."
with a grateful nod, you wrapped pansy in a hug, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. as you pulled away, you caught sight of draco watching you from across the room, his eyes filled with warmth and affection.
after finishing up the days homework, you and draco decided to go on a walk around the castle to have some much needed alone time with each other. you found an empty room on the third floor, hidden from prying eyes. with a hunger in your eyes that mirrored draco's own, you pulled him close, your lips meeting in a fevered kiss. draco's hands found their way to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he deepened the kiss, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both. your fingers tangled in his soft blonde hair, a soft moan escaping your lips as you felt the heat of his body pressed against yours. his lips were warm and demanding against yours, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips before delving into your mouth in a passionate dance. every touch, every caress, sent waves of desire coursing through you, until you were lost in a haze.
in the days that followed, you and draco explored every inch of each other, giving in to the passion that burned between you. every touch, every kiss, was a symphony of desire that left you both craving more.
and as the weeks turned into months, draco finally found the courage to ask the question that had been lingering between you.
one evening, as you lay entwined in each other's arms near the lake, the moonlight casting a soft glow over your bodies, draco took your hand in his, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.
"y/n, there's something i've been meaning to ask you," he began, his voice husky with emotion.
your heart skipped a beat as you waited for him to continue, your pulse quickening with anticipation.
"will you be my girlfriend?" he asked, his eyes filled with admiration.
a smile spread across your face as you leaned in to kiss him, the answer to his question clear in the joy and love in your face.
"yes, draco," you replied, your voice filled with desire. "i would love to be your girlfriend."
draco's eyes sparkled with relief and joy as he held you tighter, as if afraid you might vanish if he let go. "y/n," he whispered, "i've dreamt of saying those words to you for so long."
your heart swelled with affection as you traced patterns on his chest with your fingertips. "i've dreamt of hearing them," you admitted,
draco's lips found yours again, this time with a newfound urgency, as if each kiss was a promise of a future together. and in that moment, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.
but amidst the happiness, a nagging thought tugged at the edges of your mind. draco's father, lucius malfoy, loomed over your perfect romance. his disapproval could spell disaster for both of you.
as if sensing your unease, draco pulled back slightly, concern etched into his features. "y/n, i know my father... he won't be pleased about us."
you nodded, your heart sinking at the reminder of the obstacles ahead. "i know, draco. but we can't let that dictate our happiness, can we?"
draco's gaze softened, his fingers tracing circles on your back in a soothing rhythm. "no, we can't," he agreed, determination flickering in his eyes. "we'll find a way, y/n. i promise."
hope this was okay !! @ameliat-13
#draco x reader#draco x y/n#draco imagine#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco smut#james potter#marauders#harry potter#fanfiction#remus lupin#drarry fic recs#blaise zabini#harry potter fanfiction#draco malfoy smut#slytherin boys#harry potter universe
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The English Client — Eight
— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader
— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.
— WARNINGS: none
— WORDCOUNT: 2.8k
— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir
I
It had been several days since she’d introduced Tom to the Baron. Perhaps a full week already passed. In truth, she stopped keeping count.
She had waited outside the Baron’s office for him, and pretended it was just to make sure he didn’t lose his way on his way back to the hotel, but selfishly she was curious to know how their meeting had gone. Did the Baron like the books? Did he like Tom? Did Tom like him? The latter was unlikely. Only special personalities ever did, and her new friend was neither bootlicker nor snob.
But Tom was frustratingly silent on their way back to the station, and no gentle prodding from her would nudge a hint of what had happened. His body was stiff and straight as if in a march, and his gaze was focused on the road ahead. He spared her only a few, rather shy glances now and then, as if he had just taken something from her. There would be no further trade, she understood that much…
She hadn’t seen him since.
The old routine of life that she fell back into suddenly no longer satisfied. She frustrated herself by thinking of him now and then, his face appearing to her for an instant, and then she would start wondering where he was, what he was doing, was he thinking of her, would he ever come back… For all she knew, he had left for England already, and then she would become spontaneously angry and afraid, and her handling of the books would roughen, and her steps would sound quite loud, and nothing would taste good to her anymore.
But all it would take to lift her spirits was the chiming of the bell — was that Tom? — before she saw it was just Sister Silvia or another flock of tourists. Oh. Buongiorno.
She was stocking the shelves at the far end of the shop one morning when the bell ran once again, and through the silence, she heard steady footsteps, firm and prim and strong. She descended and went to them, and when she saw a dark head of hair and a tight lean torso in a plain white shirt, her heart trilled. She smiled as she approached him, faster, faster, and called out a bright ‘hello’. But then the young man turned and broke the spell.
“B-buongiorno,” she mumbled, stopping to a halt. “Posso aiutarla?”
“Oui, er… Si. Cercando un libro di… Torchia?” he said in lightly accented Italian. Was he French? “Quello nella vetrina.”
“Certamente. E come si chiama, signore?”
“Clement Merle,” he said with a smooth rolling of the tongue. “Piacere, signorina.”
Whatever faint smile she had faded. She realised with horror that she would have to tell the Baron about this, and suddenly everything felt quite cold. She forced a grin and nodded, and invited Clement further inside.
II
Tom did not particularly enjoy the taste of coffee, even after having to inflict it on himself these past few weeks for the sake of fitting in. It was a muggle drink and made him somewhat restless when he drank too much of it.
But now that he had started partaking of it on an almost daily basis, he recognised in it a certain quality. It, unlike tea, did not remind him of Mrs. Cole, nor any of the other ladies at the orphanage. Combined, they must’ve drank the Empire’s supply of the stuff while he was there, and to this day he couldn’t bring himself to touch certain varieties, like the Ceylon they favoured.
But he was here now, just another dark-haired man sipping from a little cup throughout the hour while he sat outside and pretended to read a newspaper…
The whole day, he hadn’t ventured anywhere outside of the hotel. He ordered breakfast in his room and spent most of the morning reading. Later, he had lunch at the restaurant downstairs and let the hours drain away at the bar. He hadn’t brought any books with him, they were too important — especially the ones that screamed when opened.
People came and went, and between lunch and dinnertime, he was propositioned on at least four occasions. It was hard to tell with foreign women… They were either too overt, too subtle, or both. But it reminded him, in a manner that made a chill slink down his spine and rise up in his stomach, of the Baron: that same narcissism and pride. As for the attention of the women, that reminded him of England, and his extra-contractual work for Burke. Depravity, fel need, and the loneliness of witches.
Perhaps it was their wealth that he resented, or their looks that he despised, women married for their money with the grit to bear a loveless match… Tom humiliated himself for them, swallowed his own pride, and touched, when it came down to it, their most guarded parts. But no matter what deluded charms they exercised, they never entered through his blood, his eyes, his mouth, to reach him, and Tom could not imagine any of the women he had met so far as able to, through their lips or tender touch, incite his soul to plummet to the level of the body, nor bring his body to the dark heights of his soul.
And of course, how could they? Women who had never worked a day in their lives, women who slept on treasures they neither valued nor truly recognised. Selfish creatures suffering vainly in their little cages, whose ignorance and cowardice enticed him to the brink of murder. No, now that he was away from England and free from Burke and Borgin’s demands, he would not subject himself to any more of that.
“Signor Riddle?”
He nearly jumped from his seat as he heard the clerk call for him from the entrance.
“Si?” he asked, turning around. This was the same prick who recommended that horrible restaurant to him. His eyes narrowed.
“Ah, telephone for you. Cabine two.”
“Grazie,” he muttered.
Tom left the newspaper and his cold coffee behind and walked out to the little chamber on the other side of the hotel where the phone booths were.
“Ahem, yes? Tom Riddle speaking.”
“Tom? Oh, hello! I was afraid you wouldn’t be in…”
It was her.
“Yes, took a break from sight-seeing,” he answered, casually leaning against the booth. “It’s good to hear from you again. Everything alright?”
“Of course, of course it is.”
“Really? You sound a little… nervous.” It was hard to keep the smile from his voice.
“No, everything’s fine,” she said quietly. “I just called because… because…”
Tom held the phone to his ear tightly. She sounded like she was going to cry any minute.
“Because I was wondering whether you’d be able to stop by the shop anytime soon.”
“I’d be glad to,” said Tom, summoning a tone of innocent confusion. “But what’s this about?”
“The… the Baron has reconsidered your offer.”
“He’ll trade the books?”
“I don’t know about that,” she said, the connection wavering. “I just know he wants to talk to you. He’d like to make an offer.”
“Very well. When?”
“When can you come?”
“Today.”
“Oh, that’s… That would be perfect,” she said excitedly.
“Good,” Tom smiled. “You close at half past five, yes? I can come then.”
“Thank you so much, Tom. I’ll be waiting for you inside. Bring the books with you, just in case.”
“I will,” he said. “Goodbye for now.”
“Bye…”
III
He arrived there a little early and waited for a while. He hadn’t expected to see a dark little car parked beside the shop, but at least it confirmed what he already suspected. The Baron was inside.
From the outside, the place seemed closed for the day save for a faint little light coming from a corner of the room. He knocked on the door and, as he waited for somebody to answer, he looked in through the window. There was no sign of Clement anywhere, but that volume of Torchia — the bait they set for him — was gone.
It didn’t matter what happened to Clement, of course, because Tom had been at the hotel all day which all the staff there could attest to. It might have been a little callous, sacrificing him like that, but at least it took suspicion away from him. That, and the monogrammed Swiss knife he’d left under the table. Oh well. Clement had been annoying anyway.
Like a light in the darkness, she came into view.
“Tom!” he heard her say from the other side. She rushed to open the door, her smile shaky and wide. “You came…”
“I said I would, didn’t I?” he grinned cockily as he took his coat off. “So, how have you been?”
Silent as he stepped through, she locked up again behind him, then took his coat and hung it up on the rack behind the door. There was a haunted look in her eyes that wished to say so much.
“Fine, just fine. And how are you?”
“Good,” Tom nodded. He looked down at her figure — fetching as always but closed off, tight, her legs stiff and her hands ruddy as if she’d rubbed them raw in icy water.
“Enough with the pleasantries, I haven’t got all night!” came a familiar voice from the next room.
“Si, signore.”
“Venite qui!”
With an apologetic sigh, she showed him through.
“I’ve been well, by the way,” Tom said to her. “I did so much sightseeing this past week that it was nice to rest for a few days.”
“I honestly thought you’d returned to England by now.”
“Oh, I’m in no hurry to do that.”
“And your employer?”
“Is far away. Just the way I like it,” he winked. He knew she felt the same.
She gave him a knowing smile, then stood aside as she invited him into the last room.
The Baron was there, seated in his bulky wheelchair by the table. He was smoking his pipe, or rather chewing on it, as he levelled a thick scowl at Tom. The dark surrounded them. The only point of light was a faint lamp glowing before the Baron.
“Mr. Riddle,” he said. His expression was unchanged as Tom stepped through as if he were talking to a projection in his mind and not a person right before him. “It seems we were destined to meet again.”
“And I thought you willingly invited me,” he smiled.
“I asked you to come here. I haven’t invited you to anything yet.”
Tom shrugged and looked around, pretending to be less familiar with this room than he really was.
“I must say, Baron, being called on such short notice, so suddenly and rushed… It seems, if I can afford to say so, quite unlike you.”
The old man took another puff and clenched his jaw in thought, the loose teeth creaking in his mouth.
“This place will be of interest to you, I can assure you,” he said.
“So, should I give you the books now, or…?”
The Baron and the girl behind him exchanged a look. She closed the door behind them, then moved to the left. Tom turned his head and followed her shadowed silhouette.
She bent and pulled the carpet neatly by the edge, skirt tightening enticingly around her thighs, then knelt. He couldn’t see just what she was doing, but he could hear the click of a metallic lock, and when she stepped over to the side he could see an entrance where that trapdoor was, a gaping doorway in the floor. The jaundiced light fell over a few wooden steps that descended into darkness.
Tom looked at her. She seemed quite… apprehensive, as if afraid, but proud as well to share a secret part of her with him. Tom considered using Legilimency on her to see if he was in any danger — they had probably killed Clement, after all — but he did not yet know what magical defences this place had, and now that he was so close to penetrating their little group it would have been foolish to gamble.
“Join me downstairs,” the Baron said, and as if summoned she hurried to his side to help roll him forward. “I have something to show you.”
She avoided Tom’s gaze as she walked past, and stopped at the trapdoor. The railings on its side hooked neatly underneath the wheelchair and, carefully held by his clerk, he descended. Tom followed close behind.
The steps went on for quite a while, and soon the light from upstairs vanished. He held on to the same railings as he went down step by step, further into darkness and unknown alike. He smelled wood and dirt, and the dry chill that came with old stonework.
After a while, he heard a shuffling and squeaking of wheels, which meant they’d reached the floor. Someone flipped a switch, and light pooled underneath. Tom squinted for a moment, then continued his descent. He could estimate they were some two stories deep.
A shadow began climbing toward him. He slowed his steps and, once she reached him, touched her arm. She stopped and only then looked into his eyes, their bodies were closer now than ever.
“Where does this lead?” he whispered.
“Just follow the Baron,” she said with a weak smile in an air of surrender. “I’ll be with you shortly. I just need to close the door behind us.”
“Nobody else is coming, the shop is locked up,” he scoffed.
“It’s the rule,” she said, shrugging her arm out of his grasp and climbing onward.
IV
The Baron was waiting at the bottom and began rolling away when Tom arrived. He took a moment to look around him, but there was nothing remarkable to see. Merely an empty corridor of smooth cement, and a few electric fixtures on the walls, small lightbulbs the size of candle flames. There wasn’t even anything on the ground, although judging by the fading on the edges Tom could guess a carpet had been there not long ago.
After a few moments of walking in silence, the Baron spoke again.
“I have something for you to evaluate tonight.”
“Something?”
“A few books,” he said. “What exactly is your profession in England?”
“I serve my employer as both sales clerk and purchasing agent.”
“For how long?”
“Seven years, sir.”
“That’s not a lot,” said the old man, “for them to trust you with an international assignment like this.”
“It seems they are satisfied with my work so far.”
The Baron hummed, and Tom could tell he was trying to seem less impressed than he was. Typical of men like that, to downplay the achievements of others. A bully’s attitude. Tom could not — and indeed refused to — say that he knew muggles well, but he knew arrogance, and pride, and stuck up aristocracy.
With a prim clipping of the heels, they were joined again by his assistant. Her hands went immediately to the handles of the wheelchair and she began to help the Baron forward.
“Where’s halfway there,” she said, a little out of breath.
“Hurry up, then, before he leaves.”
Tom cocked a brow, wondering who they were referring to.
“So, how do you feel?” she asked him in a quieter voice.
“I should be asking you that,” said Tom.
“Oh, I’m fine…”
It sounded like the sort of ‘fine’ that women often gave when they had something else to say. Her large eyes, her tight closed lips, the whole nervous energy of her that night disturbed him. He liked her better up a ladder, picking dusty volumes off high shelves, her body held up in the air just by one little foot and a few fingers. Or poured over a hot desk, her breath suspended as she wrote, ink pen poised between her fingers much like a witch’s wand. Not… this. This servitude. It made bile rise up in Tom’s throat. For a moment, he imagined their places switched, then realised it would have made no difference — he was the same with Burke as she was with the Baron. He put aside this notion before it made him angry too.
They were finally approaching something different than grey walls and naked lightbulbs. Tom could see thick red drapery and lamps, and the hint of doorways further on. A single blade of light cut across the floor, shivering with hints of a figure moving on the inside.
“Now, Mr. Riddle,” said the Baron, “we’ll see if you’re worthy of carrying those books with you, and of carrying yet more.”
Tom’s left hand secured the strap of the messenger bag around his shoulder, and his left hovered at his pocket, near his wand. That had sounded an awful lot like a threat.
#Tom Riddle#Tom Riddle x reader#Tom Riddle x OC#Tom Riddle fanfiction#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#sswallow;fanfics#sswallow;made a thing#fanfic;englishclient
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A new fic: White Linen Lies
I'm so excited to share my newest WIP, White Linen Lies!
WLL is a Deathly Hallows rewrite in which Draco Malfoy finds himself nearly lifeless in the hands of the Golden Girl.
In a turn of events where the Resurrection Stone is stolen and Draco is gravely injured in the Skirmish at the Room of Requirement, Hermione is left with no choice but to save his life as the rest of The Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore’s Army are forced to flee, leaving Wizarding Britain with an impending war and an unaccounted for Death Eater.
New chapters will be posted on AO3 every Wednesday and Sunday afternoon on maesfictional. Please, join in on the conversation and come say hi! 💚
https://archiveofourown.org/works/55267240
#dramione fic#dramione fandom#draco x hermione#hermione x draco#dramione#harry potter#hogwarts#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#slytherin#gryffindor#slytherdor#harry potter fanfiction#draco malfoy#draco malfoy fanfiction#ao3#ao3 fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#archive of our own#dramione fanart#harry potter fanart
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