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ellecdc · 2 months

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Surprise! We're Making Love

6.8k words

this is my first real like... real smut fic? so do take that into consideration [and please be nice to me lol] but also feel free to send me a message if you have any feedback or pointers.

this is a fic based on this trope that was sent to me by @bobluvbot like a million weeks ago and became my hyper fixation for far too long. I finally decided to put it into words. thanks to @unstablereader for championing me as I wrote this and convincing me it was decent enough to post lol

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

CW: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, coming inside of someone, AFAB reader, reader is a Pureblood Slytherin, has hair long enough for Rem to feel it on his shoulders when you're straddling him, reader has hair texture that sticks to you when wet, mentions of smoking weed and being high, mentions of drinking and alcohol, mentions of arranged marriages, use of mudblood and blood supremacy

Remus doesn’t know how exactly this thing started for him.

Perhaps it was the day after a full moon when he forgot to lock the door behind him to the Prefects Bathroom and you let yourself in, nearly fully stripped before you realised he was sitting in the steaming, bubbling pool-sized tub with a spliff hanging lazily from his mouth.

“Circe’s tits!” You screeched as you hastily pulled up your towel to keep your modesty. “You didn’t think to alert me to your presence, Lupin?” You sneered half-heartedly at him as you tried to regain your composure.

“Sorry.” Remus chuckled, voice gravelly from a mixture of last night’s howling and tonight’s smoking. “My brain is moving a little slowly right now.”

You looked between him and the spliff and sighed. “Think you’ll be much longer?” You asked him quietly, cautiously, reticently. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you look so dejected.

Slytherin princess; though you never really let that dictate how you treated people, just that it levelled you with a certain notoriety within the school. You were the only one who could talk sense into Barty Crouch Junior; Pandora Rosier’s biggest defender and advocate; Snape, Mulciber, and Avery’s biggest adversary; the one who encouraged Regulus Black to reach out to his estranged older brother; and the least likely to enact revenge on the Marauder’s for their pranks.

Though Remus had never shared more than a few words with you in passing, he knew a lot about you. In addition to the aforementioned qualities, you were a Pureblood, the eldest daughter and heiress to your family’s name and fortune, Prefect, received top marks in Charms and Transfiguration, and hated the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

Knowing all of that made Remus rather rueful that he hadn’t spoken to you before now.

“Listen, this tub is nearly the size of an Olympic swimming pool.” Remus started, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion. “It’s big.” He clarified. “I don’t mind...sharing if you wouldn’t be too uncomfortable; otherwise, I’ll pack up and leave it to you.”

He didn’t really want to leave; not whilst he was still nursing his post-moon hangover and the warm water was finally starting to relieve some of the tension in his bones. But you looked forlorn, and damn Remus and his bleeding heart, he’d give it up if you needed it.

“I don’t want to kick you out... you were here first.” You murmured, apparently weighing your options in your head.

“I will leave if you want, L/N, but I’m more than willing to share.”

You searched his eyes for what, Remus wasn’t sure, but you seemed to come to some decision. You threw your head back and let out a strangled groan which Remus was certain was more for dramatic effect than it was indicative of any real ire.

“Fine, turn around.”

Remus smirked at you and tried to ignore the protesting of his joints as he stood in the pool and turned to face the opposite wall, allowing you to drop the rest of your clothes and your towel and sink into the water.

“Okay...” You whispered quietly. “You can sit back down now; thank you.”

Perhaps it had begun then; he’d offered you a puff from his joint, causing you to move closer to him. He was a gentleman and avoided noticing the way your breasts sat high on your chest, buoyant in the bubbly and fragrant waters.

He ignored the feeling of your elbow brushing against his. He ignored the way your hair, damp from the steam and humidity, stuck against your skin. And he definitely ignored the way that as the weed started to affect you, you leaned your head onto his shoulder.

What he couldn’t ignore? When you asked him what you could do to help him.

“Help?” Remus asked you bemusedly, jostling his shoulder and forcing you to sit up and return his gaze.

“Yeah; you seem tense, stressed.”

Remus let out a confused chuckle from his nose. “That’s really not anything you need to worry about.”

You laughed back at him, nudging him with your elbow. “Lupin.” You chided. “You were willing to give up your private pool time, you’ve shared your weed with me, and you’ve let me intrude on your bath; let me worry about it.”

And he doesn’t know how you did it, he’s not even sure he remembers how the rest of the conversation went – one moment the two of you were sitting an entire swimming pool apart and pretending the other wasn’t there, and the next moment he was sitting on the edge of the pool with his hands tangled in your hair as you took him in your mouth.

“Christ, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He tried warning you, tapping your shoulder to get your attention.

Like the watery siren that you were, all you did was moan and take him deeper, and in another moment, he was spilling down your throat.

Remus was sure he looked absolutely wrecked; naked, soaking, exhausted, a few fresh wounds from last night, and his permanent eye bags a more dramatic purple today on account of his lack of sleep last night.

Not you though; somehow even though you’d just done all the work, you looked ethereal. Wet hair pooling in the water around you as you sunk into the suds up to your collarbones, your lips swollen and glistening from your fantastic work if you asked Remus, and eyes a mischievous magnet nearly luring Remus back into the pool completely against his will.

“Godric, you’re good at that.” He breathed embarrassingly. Thankfully, you only laughed at with him.

“I’m sure you meant that as a compliment, Lupin; but it sort of sounds like you’re calling me a whore.”

Remus cackled at that, thankful that his time in the water eased the soreness in his ribs before doing so.

“If you give me a few moments, I’ll return the favour dove.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You offered, moving back to the other side of the pool to retrieve the book you’d deserted in favour of pot, and then in favour of cock. “I’ll just take an I.O.U.”

Or maybe it started at the Ravenclaw afterparty following their win against Hufflepuff. You showed up with your friends fashionably late and clearly having pre-gamed to some extent if Barty’s uncoordinated movements were anything to go by.

He noticed you every once in a while, flitting around the party with various friends, dancing to various tunes, participating in various games over conversations; but something was different about you. You weren’t as...glowy.

Your smile never met your eyes, and your laughs weren’t carefree – not like they were in the tub. Not like they ought to be.

But hey, you helped him when he needed it, and he did technically owe you.

He brushed past you and gently pulled on your elbow as he continued moving. When you turned back to see what had happened, he nodded toward the exit.

He didn’t bother turning around to see if you were following him, he just carried on down the stairs of Ravenclaw tower before turning the corner to an empty corridor.

“Oi, Lupin; your legs are longer than mine. Slow down!” You called.

He didn’t realise at that time how much it meant to him that you had followed; hindsight being 20/20, and all.

“Where are we going?” You queried as you caught up and walked in step with him.

“You’ll see.” He said simply, cutting across the hall and opening the door to an empty classroom.

“Going to teach me how to translate Ancient Runes, Lupin?” You joked, though your affect was clearly lacking.

“I’m going to help.” He responded simply, leaning backwards against the professor’s desk.

“Help?”

“Right.”

You smirked and raised a singular perfectly manicured eyebrow at him, looking him up and down with a suggestive glance.

“What exactly are you to help me with?”

“You seem worried, tense.” He repeated your exact words from the tub a little over a week ago.

You offered him a half smile that, once again, never met your eyes. “That’s not something you need to worry about.”

He offered you a soft smile in return. “I do owe you, though.”

Remus doesn’t know what it was that convinced you to accept his offer. One moment he was leaning casually against the professor’s desk as you watched him warily from the door to the classroom, and the next moment he had you splayed out on the desk before him with the skirt of your dress bunched up around your waist and his head between your legs.

Now, it’s important to note that Remus is a humble and modest person. In fact, he’s really quite self-conscious. He didn’t come from a notable family and compared to his friends he was basically a pauper, he was scarred and tall and lanky, and due to his lycanthropy, he avoided meaningful relationships; meaning that whilst his friends all enjoyed relationships and situationships, he stayed religiously single.

All that being said, there was something Remus knew to be true that he felt worth bragging about.

He was fucking good in bed.

So his ego was properly stroked when you threw your head back so hard that it made a painful whacking sound against the wood of the desk with just the first stripe of his tongue through your folds.

Like a man starved, he buried his face between your legs and hardly ever came back up for air. He pulled your hips flush to his chest with your legs thrown over his shoulders and his arms hugging your thighs that he used as earmuffs.

Remus could easily call this one of his new favourite places to be, especially with the sinful sounds escaping your mouth.

He used his thumb to tease your clit, thrusting his tongue in your hole a few times before bringing it back out to run through your lips.

“Oh, Merlin!” You cried, causing him to chuckle, which caused you to flinch slightly at the feeling of his cold breath against your cunt.

“Come now, L/N; you know that’s not my name.”

You let out another cry as he wasted no time diving back in, his nose rubbing at your clit as his tongue continued its assault.

Remus’ efforts were rewarded in the form of you cumming on his face and your body falling limp below him.

He allowed you to catch your breath as he fought to catch his own, ignoring his knees crying in protest from having spent the last however long supporting his weight on the hard stone floor.

“Oh gods.” You breathed finally, opening your eyes and stealing a shy glance at Remus, still stationed near your core.

He smiled wolfishly at you. “Better?”

You laughed; a real, hard laugh that had been missing from you all night. “Much.” You agreed readily, accepting his outstretched hand and sitting up on the edge of the desk and pushing your skirt back down to cover yourself. “Thank you, Lupin.”

Remus shrugged nonchalantly as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a snap of his fingers, pushing open a window with a flick of his wand. “What are friends for?”

You snorted inelegantly; a far cry from the proper Pureblood heiress you’d been raised to be as you pulled your panties back on and took careful, albeit slightly wobbly, steps to join him at the window.

“Are we friends now?”

“Were we not friends before?” He countered, offering you a drag from his smoke that you easily accepted. He was sure his lips, tongue, and now the end of his cigarette still tasted like you.

“I didn’t think your kind was supposed to be friends with mine.” You offered, not looking at him as you passed the cigarette back.

“Blood status, really L/N?”

You scoffed derisively. “Please, Lupin. Give me some credit.”

It seemed to Remus that you looked almost hurt at his insinuation.

“I meant Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s.”

“Perhaps we can be the first.”

“Do many of your friends see you naked, Lupin?”

Remus grimaced at that. “Honestly? More than I’d like, yes.”

And there it was again, that uninhibited laugh. Remus felt vindicated in his task for this evening.

“Alright, friends then.” You agreed, reaching out for his cigarette and taking a long drag before returning it to him. “Let me know when you might need my help again, Lupin.”

“Likewise.”

And maybe it was the day that he had Avery pinned against the wall by the collar of his shirt for calling a first year Hufflepuff a Mudblood.

There was blood dripping from Remus’ nose onto the collar of his uniform shirt from an elbow to the face as he spat various threats promises of pain and maiming, when he felt a gentle hand on the small of his back.

Due to the tension radiating through Remus’ body considering how close it was to the moon, his first reaction was to throw an elbow behind him. He thanked every deity possible that you were shorter than him when you ducked expertly to dodge his assault.

“Let him go.” You said simply.

Remus felt his brows furrow as he let out a protesting grumble.

“McGonagall is coming.” You continued.

Remus looked from you back to Avery who was now smirking at him. If Remus left now, Avery would tell McGonagall what Remus did; if Remus stayed, he could tell McGonagall what Avery had said.

“He won’t say anything.” You argued - as if you had heard Remus’ internal conundrum - causing Avery’s face to fall and both boys to whip their heads to you.

“And why the bloody hell won’t I, L/N?” Avery spat.

Your eyes moved from Remus’ to Avery’s where they took on a horrifyingly cold quality, no doubt the result of your cold and indifferent parents raising you like a proper Pureblood heir.

“Because I know where you sleep.” You spat lowly.

Remus watched as Avery fought to remain defiant, but as he heard the sound of McGonagall’s footsteps approaching, let out a frustrated groan.

“Fine. Sod off.” He barked, pushing Remus away from him roughly and stalking off towards the Slytherin dungeons.

Remus angrily picked up his book bag and began stalking down the corridor in the opposite way.

His blood was boiling, the tension in his shoulders and neck was starting to give him a headache and every step he took aggravated the matter.

He turned hastily around a corner when the strap of his book bag was pulled off his shoulder.

“What?” He hissed when he turned to see you with the other end of his strap in your hand.

“This way.”

“L/N.”

“Lupin.” You countered severely, voice intoning no nonsense.

Remus allowed you to drag him by his bookbag like a dog down a seemingly abandoned corridor and into an empty classroom before you locked the doors and threw up a silencing charm.

“What are you doing?” He muttered admittedly far more petulantly than you presently deserved from him.

“Helping.” You answered simply as you began undoing your school tie.

“I’m fine.” He spat, plopping himself down roughly into a chair.

“Right.” You said sarcastically. “And you wouldn’t have continued to punch the first arse you saw on your way back to Gryffindor, huh?” You asked as you started pulling off your top and exposing your lacy black bra. “And I may not be an expert, but you’re a long way from Gryffindor tower which means your chances of running into an arse were really rather high.”

Remus held his hands up to his face and pinches at his temples, trying to stave off the incoming migraine and the overwhelming urge to tell you to fuck off, which he knew he really didn’t want to do.

Suddenly you were in nothing but your bra and panties, kneeling before him and fussing with his belt.

“This really isn’t necessary, L/N.” He offered without much fervour.

“What are friends for?” You asked quietly as you pulled his belt from the loops of his trouser.

“You don’t have to.”

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked pointedly, pausing your movements and looking up at him. You were giving him a choice; an out. Did he want to blow off some steam, or did he want to spend the rest of his day pissed off and tense?

Did he want you to stop?

“No.” He admitted.

Your eyes softened, though everything else about your face remained impassive as you undid the button and zip to his trousers and began encouraging them down his legs.

He decided to give up on his temper tantrum and assist you in the unenviable task of disrobing him and pulled you up into his lap.

“I don’t need anything.” You squeaked as he had you straddle his lap, your hair falling over your shoulders and tickling his own from your place above him.

“I’m not going to get in a fight and be a selfish lover all in the same day, L/N.” He said in faux admonishment. “Friends look after each other, yeah?”

And he’s not sure what swayed you. One moment he had you perched precariously above him as he gently nipped at your neck, and the next moment he was brutally thrusting up into you with no lack of desperation.

“Fuckin’ hells you feel amazing.” He grunted as you mewled above him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed shut causing Remus to worry momentarily.

“Are you okay?” He asked breathlessly. You moaned in response and dropped your chin onto his shoulder.

“Hey, dove, you okay?” He asked again, pulling you from him and slowing his movements.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop, Lupin.” You barked before you pulled his face to yours by the ends of his hair for a searing kiss.

He grinned somewhat maniacally into the kiss and lifted you from his lap as he stood with his cock still lodged deep within you and perched you on the edge of the desk.

“You’re a bossy girl, aren’t you?” He taunted, pushing roughly into you from this new angle and causing you to cry out. “You like telling men what to do, dove?”

You gasped as Remus found the magic little spot he’d been searching for and he doubled down in his thrusts with renewed vigour.

“That’s okay.” He continued, brushing a strand of hair away from your face that had gotten stuck in some of your lipgloss. “I like being told what to do.”

“Please! Please, please please.” You whined, a pretty sheen of sweat dusted your skin and began to pool on the divot of your collarbone.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me.”

“Working on it.”

You were apparently coherent enough to laugh at that which was torture for Remus who was currently hanging on by a fucking thread as your giggles caused your cunt to clench torturously around his cock.

“Come on, pretty girl. Come on, cum for me, yeah? You’re close; I can tell. Cum for me.” He started chanting, moving his hand that was currently holding your knee up near his ribs to rub circles around your clit.

“Cum for me, L/N.”

“Oh fuck.” You shouted as your orgasm tore through you; Remus felt almost sick from the effort not to follow you over the edge immediately, wanting to help you ride out yours to fruition, but your walls pulsating around him left him very little control over the matter.

“Fuck.” Remus growled, and unfortunately that was the only warning you got before slammed into you once more, twice more, and was then spilling inside you causing your cunt to grow impossibly more wet and warm.

You let out a desperate breath and fell forward into Remus’ chest; he was ashamed to admit how much he relished in the intimacy - ignoring the very intimate act that had already taken place.

“Fuck Lupin, you’re an animal.” You breathed out with a laugh.

Remus let out a surprised bark of laughter as he looked down at you.

“You have no idea.”

And if it wasn’t any of those, perhaps it was a few weeks later, when Remus saw a regal looking owl fly into the Great Hall over the Slytherin table, and with a grand war cry dropped an important looking letter in front of you, causing the rest of your table to fall silent.

Remus watched as Regulus Black’s jaw tightened and Barty Crouch Junior’s spoon fell back into his porridge as they watched you open it.

Remus watched as all colour seemed to drain from your face and your jaw fell slack, though not open.

The rest of the Hall seemed completely unaware of the turmoil taking place over at the Slytherin table; everyone but Remus and, apparently, Sirius Black.

“Shit.” Sirius whispered under his breath quietly, alerting neither Peter nor James who were currently in a heated debate about whether pumpkin pasties or sugar quills were the better treat from Honeydukes.

“What is it?” Remus asked him quietly. Sirius seemed nearly surprised that Remus had noticed, though schooled his expression quickly.

“Marriage announcement, she’s been betrothed.” He sneered the word, his nose actually wrinkling in disgust. “‘Sold off’ is a more appropriate term. It’s too bad, I quite liked her.”

Remus didn’t really like the feeling that settled in his stomach when he considered you being married off, but he didn’t have time to think on it too hard before he watched you storm over to Avery, Mulciber, and Snape before grabbing the former by the nape of his neck and slamming his head down into the table.

Remus was up and over to you in an instant with Sirius close behind, beaten only by Barty and Regulus who had the advantage of proximity.

“You miserable fucking wanker! You’ll fucking rot for this!” You screamed as Regulus fought and nearly lost in his battle of holding you back as Barty began sparring with your newfound enemy.

“I’ll fucking kill you for this Avery! You watch your fucking back!” You screeched. Regulus - for what reason, Remus couldn’t know - thought now a good moment to put you down, and as you launched yourself once again for what he was sure was Avery’s jugular, Remus threw you over his shoulder and took off out of the Great Hall.

“Put me down!” You shouted.

“No.”

“Fuck off, Lupin.” You cried, grabbing at his jumper and slamming your fists into his lower back as he took the stairs two at a time.

“You’re fine, L/N.”

You squealed and began kicking your legs out, causing him to use both arms to pin them to his torso.

“Stop it.”

“Put me down!”

“Stop it. Stop fighting me.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s fine.” He said, though it felt anything but. But he knew, you weren’t really mad at him, you perhaps weren’t even really mad at Avery.

“I hate you.” You said quietly this time.

“That’s alright.”

You had given up on your fight by the time Remus got to his destination. He was sure his shoulder in your stomach was causing you issues and the blood had to have been rushing to your head, but you remained placid as he hoisted you back up right and set you down on the floor of the Astronomy tower.

Your face was wet and your hair was a mess as you took gasping breaths.

This was beyond Remus’ wheelhouse when it came to you; he was good for eating you out, blowing off some steam, quickies, and the odd toke or two, but this? This was beyond his area of expertise.

He decided to sit down beside you - both your backs pressed against the cold stone of the castle in a way he was sure felt good against your skin that was sizzling and crackling with fury. He didn’t say anything; there was nothing to say, nothing that he could say, and nothing he’d really know to say at a moment like this. Perhaps he should have left you to your friends; to the Purebloods who got it. Though, Regulus seemed willing to let you help Barty kill Avery, so perhaps it was better that you were up here with him instead.

That's what he’d tell himself for now.

It could have been minutes or even an hour before you finally took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Do what?” Remus asked quietly.

“Stop me.”

“You stopped me first.”

You let that sit in the air as you looked out into the horizon.

“What do you need, L/N? What… what can I do?” He begged desperately.

Remus was certain the entire school could hear the sound of his heart breaking at the devastated expression that graced your face when you turned to make eye contact with him; your eyes seemed to beg Remus for something but he couldn’t decipher what it was that you were asking of him.

“I want to…to forget.” You sobbed. “I want to not think, I want to turn it all off for a fucking, god’s damned minute. I want it all to stop.”

“Okay.” He offered readily.

“I want it to stop.”

“Okay.” He repeated, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m right here.” He encouraged you. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need to forget.”

“Okay.” Remus said again, pulling at your hand and encouraging you into his lap. “I’m right here; take what you need.”

And Remus wasn’t sure what went through your mind as you searched between his hazel eyes. One moment you were carefully perched above him in his lap; tear tracks staining your cheeks and eyes full of sorrow. And in the next moment, your uniform skirt was hiked up and panties pulled to the side, and Remus’ belt was undone and his trousers were pulled low around his thighs as you bounced up and down on his cock like it was the solution to all of life's problems.

Remus wished it were true, he really did. But if all he could do at this moment was help you turn your brain off and forget the unpleasantness waiting for you back in the castle for just a little bit, then that’s what he would do.

You had your face shoved into his neck and he was quite sure you were biting down on the junction between his shoulder and his neck - in an attempt to quell your moans, your crying, or just out of frustration, Remus didn’t know, and quite frankly he didn’t care either way. You grinded down onto him and he felt you applying pressure to your clit against his pelvic bone, prompting him to start rubbing it with his thumb.

“You can let go, gorgeous. No one’s here.” He whispered.

You bit down harder in response and began riding him with an air of desperation.

“I’m right here.”

And then he felt it. First, he felt your tears fall onto his shoulder, then he felt your teeth break his skin, and finally he felt your walls clench around him.

You stayed latched onto him; your arms around his waist, your hands clenched into the fabric of his jumper, your teeth on his skin and your cunt on his cock as he thrusted up into you and found his own release with very little effort on account of the aftershocks still shuddering through you.

You sat like that for some time afterwards; the gentle breeze causing goosebumps to cover each of you as the sweat began to cool on your skin, and Remus rubbed circles into your bare thighs with his thumbs.

Unfortunately - for reasons Remus wasn’t willing to ponder on at present - you pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lips to the place on Remus’ neck he was sure now adorned the shape of your teeth.

“Sorry.” You rasped, running a hand over the newest of many wounds now decorating his skin. He didn’t want you to be sorry, though, he thought perhaps this might be his favourite one; it wasn’t the result of some hideous monster who took out its rage on him, but instead marked a tender moment between him and his…friend.

You pulled your wand to cast a healing charm over it when Remus grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t.”

Your reddened and swollen eyes looked at him inquisitively, causing Remus to flush in embarrassment.

“Leave it, I’ve already got so many; what’s one more?” He tried to joke, though he could tell as you looked back down at the bite mark, it fell flat.

“I’m sorry.” You said again, and Remus shook his head.

“Don’t be.”

“Thank you.” You said quietly, looking into Remus’ eyes imploringly, as if trying to convey your gratitude through your very soul. “For stopping me.”

This moment suddenly felt too charged for Remus; it was different somehow, something had happened, though he wasn’t sure what.

Not then, at least.

“That’s what friends do.” He said noncommittally. “It was an I.O.U.”

He managed to force a small smile out of you for that, and he was grateful.

So perhaps it was all of those together, in addition to the many blowjobs, many quickies, many quiet, loud, rough, or awkward fucks the two of you had in between.

But maybe…

Maybe it was the way your smile lit up the room when Barty or Pandora said something particularly outlandish or funny; your laughter echoing through the halls like an invitation to experience a secret joy that only you and your friends knew about.

Or maybe it was the way you seemed to be the only one who could weasel a smile, a laugh, or a fond eye roll out of the notoriously cold and apathetic Regulus.

Or maybe it was how a dimple in your left cheek only appeared when you were particularly proud of an achievement you made or a grade you received.

Or maybe it was the kind way you sheltered the younger Slytherin’s from the brunt of the Marauder’s pranks without impeding their more good natured ones.

Or maybe it was the way you hexed McLaggen for hitting on Lily Evans, and then again for calling her a filthy Mudblood when she refused his advancements.

Or maybe it was the way that you could always tell when Remus was feeling sad or low and needed help, needed something, needed you.

And fuck.

He needed you.

Remus wasn’t exactly sure how this thing started for him.

One moment you were on your hands and knees in his bed and he was fucking into you from behind; his body curled around yours as he rubbed at your clit expertly to push you over that edge for the third time tonight. And the next moment you were spread out and pliant beneath him, head thrown back in ecstasy as he lazily pushed into you.

He didn’t often get moments like this; moments to just sit and admire you.

This thing he had with you, it was delicate, precarious. It was precious. And he wasn’t going to go fucking it up by forcing it to be something it wasn’t.

You were friends.

You were friends who helped each other.

You were friends who have seen each other naked; who have tasted each other’s sweat, skin, flesh, blood, and cum.

You were friends who have spent time with each other, on each other, and in each other.

You were friends.

That’s what you had agreed to, that was the arrangement, that was all this was supposed to be.

And then Remus’ stupid sodding heart had to go and fucking yearn for you.

It ached to sit beside you in the library without it being a precursor for one of you to be on your knees in the stacks moments later.

It ached to ask you about your day for the sole purpose of getting to hear about it and not just as a means to help you take your mind off it by bending you over in an empty classroom.

It ached to watch you, uninhibited throughout the day, without it causing grief, or angst, or hungry looks being exchanged.

It ached to taste your lips without tasting the leftover sex from previous actions.

It ached for you to climb into the shower with him after this, to throw on one of his ratty old band tees, and to stay.

It ached for you to stay.

He wanted you to stay.

But you guys were friends.

And that was enough, it had to be enough. He would make it be enough.

So sue him; sue him for taking this extra moment to admire your form below him, when you were only his in this moment. Sue him for memorising the way your hair pooled around your head like a halo even after all the tugging and ruffling that it has been subjected to. Sue him for watching the way your breasts bounced with each gentle thrust of his hips, the way your ribs expanded and contracted with each breath, the way the two of you fit so perfectly together; your body accepting him with grace and ease as he slotted the two of you together over and over and over again.

He ached for you.

And damn him - damn him and his bleeding heart and this beautiful girl beneath him - he reached out to pull a strand of hair that laid plastered to the side of your sweaty face.

He didn’t just ache for you.

He yearned for you.

He loved you.

He was in love with you.

And Godric only knows how far gone he was or for how long now. But it didn’t matter; none of it mattered. All that mattered was this ethereal being that, for just this moment, was all his.

He doesn’t know how long your eyes had been returning his gaze. He supposed it didn’t matter, because he knew; he knew it was written all over his face.

He may as well have been flashing a neon sign on his forehead: “My name is Remus, and I’m wildly in love with you”. And if the sign hadn’t been enough, he was sure his actions were.

There was no longer any desperation in his actions; no destination in mind as he slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in again. His hands weren’t placed in precise locations to elicit a specific reaction of any sort, but rather roved languidly over your body in meticulous worship.

And if that hadn’t been enough, he was sure that the way you were staring deep into his eyes, into his soul; you saw. You knew.

The jig was up.

He had been outed.

Your eyes widened minutely and began to flit around Remus’ face as your grip on his arms stationed on either side of your body loosened.

You knew.

Though it was all for naught at this point, Remus scrunched his eyes closed as if he could save any of his remaining dignity; not that there was much left.

This was it, it was all going to be over.

He lowered himself over your body and pressed his face into your neck, hiding like the coward he was as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.

Gently, tentatively, he felt you press a cautious hand between his shoulder blades and another to the nape of his neck.

Somehow, the tenderness in your touch hurt more.

He came with a strangled cry, feeling humiliating tears fall from his eyes as he filled you up for what he was certain would be the last time.

He melted into your hold and cried silently into your shoulder, and you let him.

Your hand that was stationed between his shoulder blades never moved, but your hand in his hair kneaded gentle, soothing circles into his scalp.

He wanted you to stop; he wanted you to stop because this was all he really wanted... to be here, with you, like this.

He wanted the rough and the fun and the biting and the hair pulling, sure. But he wanted the gentle, the soft, the affection, and the innocent intimacy, too.

That wasn’t fair though; it wasn’t fair to you. You never asked for it, and you never offered it.

You never asked for it.

You never offered it.

He decided that he’d been hiding in your neck for far longer than he had any right to, and slowly pulled his face away from its sanctuary.

He looked up at you through his curls in shame to see you had tear tracks down your cheeks too.

What a fucking mess.

He was a fucking mess; and he’d dragged you down into it.

He slowly pulled out of you and summoned a tissue to clean up the cum leaking from your folds. You hissed at the sensation and he whispered an apology before pulling on a pair of pyjama pants and throwing you a t-shirt that he hoped to fucking God was clean, and sat on the edge of James’ bed; facing you, though his head was bowed in shame.

“I’m sorry.” He offered pathetically, knowing it was not even close to helpful in this situation.

“When…” You started, voice both gravely from the sex and tight with emotions as new tears fell. “When did this happen?”

He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t know. He couldn't say.

“When,” you tried again. “When did this change?”

Your face fell into your hands as you began to cry in earnest.

He wondered what part of this upset you the most; the loss of this friend that you had in him? The pressure to offer him more than you were willing to give? The feeling of guilt over not being able to return his feelings?

You didn’t seem to be waiting for an actual answer from him, but were rather voicing the thoughts running through your head as they came to you.

“I should go.” He whispered, even though this was his room, even though you were wearing his shirt.

“Don’t.” You demanded harshly, eyes blazing with a fire he never imagined ever being shot at him. “Don’t you dare leave me here like this; not after that.”

He nodded quickly, sitting back down on James’ bed as you wiped angrily at your face.

He wished you wouldn’t; he wished you’d be more gentle.

He didn’t get to wish things like that, though.

“When, when did this become love?” You asked in a mixture of shock and bemusement; the thought of an equation you couldn’t solve was clearly insulting to you.

Remus shook his head in disgrace. “I’m sorry.” He offered weakly.

You scoffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Sorry for what, exactly? Making me fall in love with you? Making me fall in love with you and not telling me about it?”

“You... too?” He rasped, looking at you with a slack jaw.

“Fuck.” You seethed, standing up and beginning to pace the dorm room for a few moments as you seemed to think back on the entire duration of this situation.

“When!?” You demanded again after a few moments.

“I don’t know.” He admitted honestly, placatingly.

“Fuck.” You paused in place, bringing your hands to your mouth. Remus hated it, but you paused right in front of the hearth, causing your form to be illuminated by an ethereal glow. He thought you looked beautiful.

“I’m sorry.” He said, for daring to even think such a thing.

But, maybe…maybe if you loved him too, he could think such things?

“Fuck.” You said again, still staring unseeingly at the wall of his dorm as you stood in nothing but an oversized shirt in the middle of the room.

“What-” Remus started, taking a cautious step towards you as if you were a wild animal poised to run at any given moment. “What do you want, Y/N?”

Not one muscle in your body moved save for your eyes as they shot over to him.

“Anything.” He whispered.

I’ll give you anything you want; be anything you want. Say it and I’m yours. I’m yours.

I’m already all yours.

“I need to pee.” You said plainly.

Remus’ chest deflated in relief that you weren’t asking him to obliviate this memory from your mind.

“And then…” You took a shuddering breath that made Remus want to fold you up and keep you safe in his breast pocket for the rest of his life. “And then I want to talk. About this, okay? Please?”

Remus nodded quickly, readily, so unbelievably willingly.

“Don’t leave, please. Please be here when I get back.” You whispered; eyes, voice, and body language far more vulnerable than he ever remembered seeing from you (and ever cared to see from you again).

“Always.”

And he kept that promise.

2K notes · View notes

pasukiyo · 1 year

Note

Hey, ignore if u arent still doing requests but I've had this storyline in my head for ages and I think ur a perfect writer for tom. Basically, the reader is a muggleborn but she attends Hogwarts and it's like half term where they are all home for a break. Shes either avery or lestranges adopted sibling and it's kinda been kept a secret from tom because.. well yknow shes a muggleborn lol(he knows about her now because her adoptive brother had to explain before bringing Tom over) anyways so hes at every or lestranges house for some reason (you make it up) and shes in her room, her adoptive brother needs something so he asks tom to get it from her desk in her room and they preferably have 🌶 time. Sorry if it sounds stupid but I've been thinking about this for ages!!😭

𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | tom riddle

tom riddle x f!reader 8,104 words warnings: smut. sort of angst. also lots of prejudice against muggle-borns. read part two here. notes: reader is hufflepuff and muggle-born in this one. summary: every year, the lestranges will hold a christmas party for only the oldest of pure-blood wizarding families. every year you are locked in your room while the party rages downstairs, but everything will change when tom riddle is invited to this year’s party. everything…

The Lestrange name definitely held some irony, considering how strange the family truly was. The Mother sent an owl at lunch, the rolled parchment dropping onto the plate in front of Tiernan Lestrange. On either side of him sat Clarence Avery and Liam Mulciber, who gazed down at the rolled parchment sealed with the Lestrange family crest with sparkling irises.

“Is it for the party, Lestrange?” Avery asked as Lestrange took another bite of his sandwich, dusting his hands off before finally taking a hold of the parchment, untying the ribbon keeping it closed. “More than likely,” he replied as the parchment unraveled, his mother’s handwriting gazing back up at him in inky black cursive letters.

‘To my dearest son,

Tell your friends they’re more than welcome to join us on Christmas Eve for the party. Invite that Head Boy you were writing to me about too. I am most interested to meet him, since you speak so highly of him. Remind the Girl that she is to not speak of the party, I simply cannot have any more of her kind in the house. I will see you at King’s Cross Station, my darling.

With all my love, your mother.’

Of course, the Girl referred to the Hufflepuff sitting all the way across the Great Hall at her own House’s table, her head down as she ate, so as to not catch the attention of her brother or any of his friends. She didn’t choose this family— and if it were her choice, she’d be far away from them— and neither did they.

It was the fault of whomever it was who dropped her onto the Lestranges’ doorstep in the wee hours of the morning when she was only an infant. The Mother had given birth to her son only a few months before, and found the crying baby on her doorstep to be quite a burden.

She asked herself why the Mother and the Father even bothered keeping her, for even before they learned of her blood status, they hated her. Perhaps it was to uphold their reputation— taking in a child who wasn’t theirs? It was the perfect foundation for the story of a kind-hearted pure-blood family— how could the Lestranges let that opportunity go?

Of course, behind closed doors, she was treated less than a family member, some would argue far less than a house elf. She may as well have been a house elf if you ask her. She was treated like how they believed anyone of her kind should be treated— a mudblood deserved to be treated like the rubbish they are, they’d say.

Up until she got her Hogwarts letter, she believed them. She believed she deserved to be treated this way, that she deserved to be put through the torture that came with living with the Lestranges. She believed she had filthy blood, demon blood.

But all of that changed the second she first stepped foot into Hogwarts. Of course, the Lestranges were at first very against letting her attend Hogwarts— mudbloods shouldn’t be taught magic, they’d say— but even they could only take so many letters flying through the fireplace or popping up in the stew before they gave in. Of course, she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone of her blood status— “you are not to tell anyone of your filthy blood status,” the Father had told her with an accusatory finger in her face. “As far as anyone is concerned, you are pure-blood. So I expect you to act like it.”

Her school robes and supplies were not as grand as Tiernan’s, and she wasn’t allowed an owl or a cat or a toad. But she told herself that she would make do with what she had, and she felt at least a little bit grateful that the Lestranges didn’t give her tattered secondhand, even third-hand clothes, even if she knew it was all for the act.

When the Lestranges found out she had been sorted into Hufflepuff however, oh, it gave them all the more reason to ridicule and torture her back at home. “Of course the mudblood is in the weakest House,” the Mother would mutter beneath her breath as she and her husband read the letter their son had written. “We were fools to think that old ratty hat would sort her into Slytherin.”

Tiernan and his friends— they made certain that her life at Hogwarts was just as bad as her life at home. Of course, Tiernan was the only one who knew the truth about her blood, Avery, Mulciber, and the others just tagged along because they found it funny. They loved calling her names, making her trip in the hallways, pulling pranks such as jinxing her school books so that they may not open no matter how hard she tried.

And still, she didn’t dare stand her ground, for she knew all too well that the Mother and the Father would catch wind of it, and make certain that she’d be on the first train back to King’s Cross Station. So instead, she dealt with Tiernan and his friends, just like she learned to deal with everything else.

But Tom… Tom Riddle was different.

Tiernan Lestrange and his friends worshiped the ground Tom Riddle walked on, and it was no secret. She remembered when she first saw Tom, all the way back in the Sorting Ceremony in her first year at Hogwarts. She remembered hearing his name ‘Riddle, Tom’ being called and she remembered watching as he approached the platform, settling himself down onto the stool.

She remembered the way their eyes met and she swore her knees turned into jelly when she gazed into those dark ravines he had for irises. And she remembered when the Sorting Hat exclaimed “Slytherin!” hardly before it had even touched a hair on his head.

And she remembered how disappointed she felt when she was called up to be sorted, the Sorting Hat put her into Hufflepuff. She wanted to be a Slytherin— she wanted to be wherever Tom Riddle was.

In all her time at Hogwarts, she’d never even spoken a word to Tom Riddle. They’d pass each other in the halls, but thanks to her brother, she’d never been given the chance to even tell him hello. And Tiernan made it clear that she never would.

So life went on, and she got older. She hoped that over time, she’d forget about Tom. But it was hard when he was made prefect, and when he was given the Special Award for Services to the School, and when he was made Head Boy at the beginning of their seventh and final year.

She remembered her fifth year during all the attacks on muggle-borns vividly as if it were only yesterday. She remembered how frightened she was when she realized it was muggle-borns whatever it was was attacking. She remembered the panic she felt when Hogwarts was on the brink of being closed— she couldn’t have that! She belonged at Hogwarts, not out there with the Lestranges where she was treated like vermin.

At least here, she could pretend to be someone she was not.

Of course Tiernan was no help, always taunting her and teasing her that she’d be next. She remembered when she heard that it was Rubeus Hagrid who had freed the muggle-born killing beast, how although she felt that it could not be Hagrid, she felt a sense of relief when he was expelled, when all the attacks had stopped.

And of course it was Tom Riddle who caught him. And of course it just made her admire him more and more.

But she would keep her distance. She’d admire him from afar. She couldn’t begin to imagine the torment Tiernan would put her through if he found out she liked Tom Riddle.

“Yes! Looks like we’re invited, Mulciber,” Avery exclaimed, pumping his fist. Tiernan rolled his eyes at his friends, “you’re invited every year,” he replied, just as Tom entered the Great Hall, and they fell into silence as he approached.

She could see Tom over the tops of the heads of the Hufflepuffs in front of her, and she slowly sat up to get a better look. That was when Tom blinked up and she swore their eyes met, just for a moment, before he settled down into his seat, disappearing behind the heads of the other Hogwarts students. She felt herself flush as she hunched over her plate again, a small smile creeping onto her face.

“My Lord,” Tiernan Lestrange nodded as Tom settled himself between him and Liam Mulciber. Tom nodded in acknowledgement as he placed a few pieces of chicken onto his plate, and Tiernan’s gaze flickered from him to the rolled parchment in his lap. “My mother sent an owl,” he said, and Tom hummed in reply, nodding. Still, he said nothing.

Tiernan shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, and Tom, with his eyes slightly narrower than before, peered up at him, waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say. Tiernan turned pink beneath Tom’s stare, and he presented the letter to him, Tom’s dark eyes flicking down to the inky black words on the scroll.

“My family, we… we hold a Christmas party every year,” he said, and when Tom glanced back up at him, he flushed again. “And you would’ve been invited! But it’s only for the oldest pure-blood families, and, well…” Tiernan trailed off when he saw the shadow looming over Tom’s already dark gaze, and Mulciber and Avery shifted in their seats uncomfortably.

Tiernan cleared his throat again, “but I’ve been speaking very highly of you to my mother. She wants you to come,” he said, his lips curving into a smile. Tom pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he stared back up at Lestrange, handing back the parchment. “Yes, I know. I can read, Tiernan,” Tom said sternly, and Tiernan clawed at his knees to prevent himself from trembling.

“Yes… well…” Lestrange said shakily as he rolled back up the parchment, slipping it inside one of his pockets. “…I’d really love it if you come. We’ll all be there— me, Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, Nott— and our families too, so you can meet them all!”

Tom took a bite out of one of the chicken wings on his plate, placing it back down before wringing a napkin between his hands, gesturing towards Lestrange’s robes with his head. “Who is your mother referring to when she speaks of ‘the Girl?’” He asked, and heat crept back into Tiernan’s cheeks until they glowed scarlet. “Oh, you know… my sister…” he muttered, and Tom’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t she refer to her daughter by name?” Tom questioned, turning his body to fully face Tiernan, his interest piqued. “What does she mean by she ‘cannot have any more of her kind in the house?’”

The other boys leaned in to hear what Tiernan would say next, and he knew now that there was no way to get out of this. He’d have to tell the truth not only to his friends, but to his Lord.

“Forgive me, my Lord, for asking this of you,” Tiernan hung his head and muttered lowly towards Tom. “But I must ask that you promise you won’t tell another soul about this. This goes for all of you, too,” he said towards Tom and the rest of their group. Lestrange gazed into each of their eyes and held contact for a moment with each, to make it known that he was serious.

Tom shrugged, “I promise.”

Tiernan inhaled a shaky breath, before finally saying, “she… as you know, is not my sister,” he began. “And she’s not pure-blood, either. She’s a mudblood.”

Mulciber, Avery, and the others all leaned closer and broke into a sea of murmurs, “that sure explains a lot. But a mudblood? In the Lestrange family?” Tom remained silent as he stared at Lestrange, beckoning for him to continue. “Her filthy muggle parents left her on our doorstep after she was born. My mother and father took her in purely out of the goodness of their hearts,” Tiernan sat up and stuck out his chest proudly. “And they kept her, even when they learned where she came from. So you see now why she never comes to the party. Mother always tells guests she’s never home for the party anyways.”

The boys all laughed and ridiculed her while Tom, again, remained silent, staring absentmindedly down at his plate. He wasn’t sure what to think, how to feel. All this time he’d spent watching her, only catching glimpses of her from afar when he felt a gaze on him, watching as she turned away whenever she saw him with Tiernan and the others.

All this time he secretly lusted after her, the outcast of her family, the black sheep of the family. All this time he felt some sort of connection to her, all this time he felt he could relate to her because he, too, felt like an outcast. The outcast of the orphanage he grew up in, the outcast of the Gaunt family, the outcast of his muggle father’s family.

Tom Riddle never belonged anywhere, but he belonged here, at Hogwarts. And he knew she felt the same.

But would things change now that he knew she was muggle-born? Should he feel disgusted with himself now for ever thinking of pursuing her, for ever thinking of taking her in whichever way he pleased? Was it wrong of him to still lust for her, to still think of having his way with her?

Tom was clever but this, this he wasn’t sure of.

“So where has she been hiding during the parties?” Liam Mulciber asked, and Tiernan Lestrange snickered. “Mother and father force her up into her room. Says they’ll punish her accordingly if they hear even the smallest of noises coming from her room,” he replied, the boys erupting into another fit of snickers. Tom was still silent as he stared at his plate— he suddenly didn’t feel like eating.

The next day, she and a group of other Hogwarts students waiting to go home for the holidays gathered at Hogsmeade station, waiting for the arrival of the train. She snuck glances over to where Tiernan and his friends stood together, Tom in the middle of them all. She flushed and turned away when his head began to turn, and she moved to hide herself behind a few of her fellow Hufflepuffs, safe away from Tom Riddle’s view.

The train’s whistle echoed as the train emerged, slowing down to a stop before them. She dared gaze back over to where Tiernan stood with his friends as she waited for the doors to open, and when she did, Tom was no longer looking her way. She let herself stare for a little moment longer before she felt someone tap her shoulder, and blinked at the Hufflepuff girl in front of her with brown skin and shoulder length black hair she recognized as Clara Wingrave.

“Are you coming?” Clara asked, a furrow in her brow. She blinked and nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat back down. “Yes, sorry Clara,” she mumbled as she followed the Hufflepuff girl onto the train, sliding into the seat opposite the one Clara chose. She sighed as she settled herself into the seat just as footsteps thundered through the train, and she hardly had any time to register what was happening before their compartment door slid open, revealing none other than Tiernan Lestrange, Clarence Avery, and Liam Mulciber, Tom and the other three boys nowhere in sight.

Clara narrowed her eyes at their intruders, “hey, go find your own—“

“Shut it,” Mulciber hissed towards her. “No one allowed you to speak.”

Clara’s glare hardened as Tiernan leaned down to block his adopted sister’s view, his lips curving into a cheshire grin. Her hands balled into fists, and she suddenly felt the strongest urge to slam them right into that crooked smile of his.

“Mother sent the owl this afternoon,” Tiernan muttered, and he needn’t elaborate, for she was already used to the rules she was forced to follow every year during the annual Lestrange Christmas party. “Oh yeah? And let me guess… I’m not to speak of the party, I’m not to attend the party, I’m to stay up in my room and if I make even the smallest of noises, I’ll be punished accordingly? Is that all?” She asked quietly, so that the girl across from her could not hear.

Tiernan scowled and grabbed for her throat, much to Clara’s shock as she shrieked, giving her a firm shake. She pressed her lips closed and gazed into Tiernan’s dark umber eyes as they gleamed with mischief. “You dare give me attitude?” He tsked. “You just wait. I’ll tell mother and father about this and—“

“—Tiernan? Won’t you leave her alone for Merlin’s sake, the train is about to leave.”

She along with Clara, Tiernan, and his friends snapped their heads to the open compartment door where the Head Boy now stood, a furrow in his brow. He narrowed his eyes every so slightly, and he looked irritated. She flushed when she saw him and turned away as Tiernan released her, dusting off his clothes. She glimpsed up at him as he turned to leave, not without making sure to flash a dirty look her way over his shoulder before he slid the compartment door closed behind him.

“What the hell was that about?” Clara gasped and shook her head in disbelief. “I know it is common for siblings to fight, but that was just absurd.”

She shook her head as she shifted in her seat, gazing out the window as the train began to move, and Hogsmeade station grew further and further away until it disappeared altogether.

“He’s not my brother.”

The train ride back to King’s Cross Station seemed to go by quicker than usual, much to her dismay. She wished she could stay on the train forever rather than have to go back to living with the Lestranges, and wished that she had an invisibility cloak so that she could hide and be on her way back to Hogwarts within the hour.

But, since she didn’t, she sighed as she collected her bag with her few belongings and exited her compartment, stepping out of the train and onto Platform 9¾, where her eyes immediately fell upon the Mother and the Father where they stood, eyes narrowed when they fell upon their muggle-born adopted daughter. She huffed as she made her way over to them, standing beside the Mother with a considerable amount of distance between them.

“Where is my son?” The Mother asked through gritted teeth, and she shrugged her shoulders. “He and his friends should be getting off soon,” she replied, not daring to turn to look at the Mother. Sure enough, almost as soon as she finished saying it, there stepped out Tiernan and his friends, Tom Riddle close behind. The other boys left to greet their own parents, but Tiernan and Tom made their way over to where she stood beside the Lestranges, and she flushed.

Why was Tom coming over here?

“Tiernan,” the Mother smiled, drawing her son into her chest for a hug. “And you must be… Tom, is that right? Hogwarts’ Head Boy?”

She glanced over to where Tom stood, a charming smile plastered his face and she could feel heat creep back up her neck. She turned away from him before he could catch her staring.

“It is nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Lestrange,” Tom greeted them, shaking Mr Lestrange’s hand and giving the top of Mrs Lestrange’s a polite kiss. “Oh!” Mrs Lestrange giggled. “I like this one. The manners!”

Tom flashed his best smile but snuck a glimpse over to where the Lestranges adopted daughter stood, her arms crossed over herself as she looked anywhere but at him. He eyed her up and down just as Mrs Lestrange clutched either of his forearms, and he was forced to tear his attention away from the girl behind her.

“Tiernan here tells me you’re from the orphanage?” Mrs Lestrange asked and Tiernan felt like shriveling away beside Tom. Tom only nodded in reply to which Mrs Lestrange tutted, “how about this? You’re welcome to come and stay with us for the holidays. We’d be delighted to have you.”

She froze at this and her lips fell agape with the intent to protest, but nothing came out. She knew nothing she said would matter anyways, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle being around Tom for the entirety of the holidays. She’d been comfortable leaving him at a safe distance away from her at school, but now she’d have to deal with seeing him at the Lestranges? She simply wouldn’t be able to trust herself being around him for so long.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Tom beamed as Mrs Lestrange fussed over him, leading him away from the platform, and she, the Father, and Tiernan followed close behind. Tiernan made a point of ramming his shoulder into her every once in a while, and it took everything within her to control herself, to not shout or push him away. The Father saw this was happening but did nothing to stop it.

It wasn’t longer before they finally entered the Leaky Cauldron and made their way to the fireplace, and they each grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. The Father went first, then Mrs Lestrange, and Tiernan before it was down to her and Tom. It occurred to her that this was the first time they had ever been alone together, and she forced herself to look away as he stepped into the fireplace.

Tom was no stranger to her shy nature. He tilted his head to try and get a better look at her, watching as she peeked over at him only to find he was staring, and looked away again. He smiled, exclaimed “Lestrange Manor!” and he was gone, leaving her alone.

Soon, she too was back in the Lestrange Manor, and she nearly ran into Tom where he stood just before the fireplace. Her palms instinctively fell onto his back to find her balance, and oh, how she felt she’d explode where she stood.

It was the first time she had ever touched Tom, and she truly did not expect him to be so warm. Tom glanced back over his shoulder when he felt her hands on him and swiftly stepped out of her way, feeling her touch lingering on his back where she had touched him. Something ignited within him at that touch, and every doubt he had about still wanting to pursue her seemed to fray away.

He wanted her.

“Welcome to our home!” The Mother exclaimed with a smile as she dusted off the shoulder of Tom’s coat where some ash had fallen, letting her palms soothe back down all the way to his elbows. “Tiernan will show you where you will be staying. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

She began to follow Tiernan and Tom as they headed for the staircase leading to the next level, but just before she could, the Mother grabbed her by the elbow and tugged her backwards to face her and the Father. She scowled down at her adopted daughter as soon as she made certain Tom was out of sight and leaned down until they were eye level.

“Listen to me, girl, and listen to me good,” the Mother said lowly. “You are to be on your best behavior while we have a guest in the home. You are to stay up in your room for the holidays except for meals, do you understand me, girl?”

She blinked— normally, she’d hate the fact that she had to stay up in her room all hours of the day, but instead, she felt relief surge through her. At least she wouldn’t have to see Tom, at least she wouldn’t make a fool out of herself in front of him.

“Yes, Madam Lestrange,” she said as the Mother released her elbow, and the Father stepped forward, leaning down to eye level.

“And you mustn’t leave your room under any circumstances during the party tomorrow evening,” he muttered. “If I hear even the smallest of sounds coming from your bedroom, I will punish accordingly and do understand, I will not show mercy.”

She heard this rule every year, but still to this day, the way the Father threatened her sent chills down her spine. “Yes, Mr Lestrange,” she nodded and when the Father waved her off, she walked as fast as she could towards the stairs, practically sprinting up the steps and down the hallway until she finally reached her bedroom.

Tom and the rest of the Lestranges were already in the dining room when she finally bounded down the steps, and he could tell Mr and Mrs Lestrange were using all the self restraint they had within them to not blow up at her, most likely for his sake. He watched as she sat down across the table from where he and Tiernan sat, carefully only placing a small selection of food onto her plate.

He glanced back over to where Mr Lestrange sat on one end of the long dining table before looking over at Mrs Lestrange on the other end. Neither paid her any attention, or showed any intention of speaking to her. She didn’t seem to want to talk either.

“So, Tom, Tiernan tells me you’re exceptional at Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Mr Lestrange said, shaking Tom from his thoughts. He forced a small smile as he nodded, wiping his hands on his napkin. “Yes, actually, I wish to become Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher one day.”

She listened as she finished her dinner as quickly as she could, but she didn’t stick around to hear the rest of Tom’s story. She gazed over at the Mother who only nodded that she may be excused before she gathered her plate and hurried off to the kitchen where the Lestranges house elf cleaned.

“Thank you for the food, Gimbel,” she nodded at the house elf who only nodded back as she set her dirty plate on the pile of unclean dishes the house elf had stacked on the countertop. She hurried back upstairs where she shut herself in her room, sighing as she fell onto her mattress.

All she had left to endure was breakfast tomorrow morning, and she’d be free of seeing Tom for the rest of the day. She rested her arm over her eyes, her heart beating against her chest. She couldn’t believe the boy she’s been pining after since her first year is in her house, staying in only a few rooms down from hers. How she wished she could talk to him, to treat him like a guest rather than act like he wasn’t even there at all.

She even, for a moment, wished she was a true member of the Lestrange family, so that she could be treated as an equal.

Tom hardly saw her for breakfast the next morning, for as soon as he and Tiernan had entered the dining room, she was seemingly finished with her food, and once again scurried off towards the kitchen as she did the night before. Tiernan scoffed when he saw this as they took their seats on one side of the long dining table, loading their plates with biscuits and bacon and eggs.

“I apologize for her… strange behavior, my Lord,” Tiernan muttered to home as Tom took a sip of milk. “She’s always like this, you see.” Tom didn’t care to listen to whatever else Tiernan had to say about his adopted sister. Tom had already made up his mind about her, it was how he’d find the chance to talk to her that was the problem.

She seemed to avoid him like the plague, and he knew he more than likely wouldn’t be seeing her at all the rest of the day, since the Lestranges locked her in her room while they hosted their party. Tom was clever, so surely he’d be able to find a way around it?

But as the time for the party to begin approached, he still came up with nothing. He had no excuse for wanting to see her, and with Tiernan practically breathing down his neck, he hadn’t any chance of sneaking away any time soon. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to see her at all when the party began and Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, and Nott all came rushing towards him and Lestrange. He had no space absolutely no space and no time to sneak away.

“Don’t worry,” Lestrange was saying to his friends. “The mudblood is upstairs in her bedroom. Won’t be coming out at all tonight, that one.” The boys snickered as they called her names and made jokes about her, but Tom wasn’t listening. Even though it seemed as if all hope of seeing her tonight was lost, he was still thinking of every possible excuse he could come up with to sneak away.

But fortunately, he wouldn’t have to contemplate for much longer.

“Blast,” Lestrange cursed, feeling around his pockets. Clarence Avery furrowed his eyebrows as he watched his friend, the others soon joining in. “What is it?” Liam Mulciber asked as Lestrange emptied each of his pockets, coming up with nothing. “Left my damn wand in my room,” Lestrange muttered, and Tom perked at this. Lestrange turned to Tom and stepped closer to murmur close to his ear, “forgive me for asking you of this, my Lord, but I simply do not trust the others. Will you go upstairs and retrieve my wand for me? I can’t go upstairs, mother and father said I need to stay down here.”

If Tom was the type, he’d laugh and jump up and down at the request. All day he had been trying to come up with some sort of excuse to slip away from the party, and now he finally had one. He cleared his throat and nodded, “of course,” he said to Lestrange before making his way over towards the staircase, but he did not stop at Tiernan’s bedroom door as he passed.

Instead, he walked a little further down the Lestranges upstairs hallway, stopping at the last door on the left where she was, the black wooden door the only thing separating him from her now. Tom raised a fist to the door and knocked, and for a moment, it was silent on the other side.

Who could possibly be knocking at her door?

She knew it could not be any of the Lestranges, for they would’ve just burst through the door without any respect for her privacy anyways. It couldn’t be Gimbel either, the house elf never came to her room. She grew weary as she closed her book and set it down on the mattress beside her, clearing her throat before murmuring a low, “come in.”

She watched as the handle to her door twisted and it swung open, and when she saw who was standing there in her doorway, she felt as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs. She’d only ever dreamed of Tom Riddle being in her bedroom, but never before did she actually think he’d really come in here.

But there he was. There Tom Riddle stood, closing the door behind him and turning to gaze at her where she sat on her bed, his eyes entrancing as they were dark. Even from across the room, his irises seemed to pull her in like they were magnets and she was metal, and she lost herself further and further into his soul…

“Forgive me,” Tom said, and she blinked. Those were the first words she had ever heard him direct towards her. “I would not usually barge into a lady’s room like this.”

Fire raged across her skin, up her neck, and to her cheeks until they were seared with flame. She suddenly had the strongest urge to open the window, wondering if she had broken into a sweat yet or not.

She blinked again, and the corner of Tom’s lips curved into a soft smile. He knew he already had her wrapped around his finger.

“Your brother thought he left something in here,” he said, gesturing towards her desk against the far wall of the room. “May I?”

She could not think of anything Tiernan could have possibly left in her room, but she wouldn’t dare question Tom, so instead she nodded, and she watched as he strode across the room, opening her desk drawers and sifting through its contents.

Of course, Tom wasn’t searching for anything. But she needn’t know that yet.

“Hm,” Tom hummed, closing the drawers he had opened and turning to face her again, leaning back against the wooden desk. “Perhaps, your brother was mistaken.”

She felt small underneath Tom’s gaze, and she felt as though she could curl herself into a ball right now and shrivel away. But instead she sat still on her bed, unable to speak, unable to move. Tom chuckled and she pinched her bottom lip between her teeth, mentally cursing herself for being so shy. Typical Hufflepuff, she could imagine her adopted brother sneering.

“You know, you should really join the party,” Tom said, hoping to break the ice between them. She soothed the skin of her arms with her palms and rubbed at her elbows, shaking her head. “The Mother and the Father won’t let me attend,” she managed to speak at last, and she gulped down the lump in her throat.

Although Tom already knew the answer, he still tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Why is that?” He asked, and she swallowed again, forcing back down the truth. She dropped her head and shrugged, “because I’m different.”

Tom blinked, and he suddenly felt like he was ten years old again, still living at the orphanage he grew up in. For over ten years, he grew up unlike all the other children, and even at an early and young age, he knew that he was different. It wasn't until Albus Dumbledore came to visit him that he finally understood why he felt this way.

It was different in her case, because at least she knew why she was different. But they were still treated the same, like they were misfits, rejects, outcasts. It was then that he understood the connection he felt towards her with a different meaning, that he first noticed this string tethering them together.

They had both been lost before, but just like he had found himself, she could be found too. Tom could be the one to find her, for he seemed to be the only one who understood her.

Tom’s footsteps permeated her bedroom as he made his way over towards her bed, setting himself down on the mattress beside her. She flinched when she felt the bed dip beneath his weight, and it was then that it occurred to her just how close he was.

They had never ever been this close before.

“Why are you different?” He asked, gazing down at her as she peered up, their eyes meeting closer than they ever have before. For a moment she said nothing, only continued to lose herself further in the dark depths of the treacherous caverns that were his eyes. He studied her— her eyes, her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks, her chin, her lips.

It was no secret that she was beautiful, even Tom could admit that. But she was vulnerable, it was clear the moment Tom met her eyes again. And Tom could work with vulnerability.

“Well…” she trailed off, contemplating how much she should tell him. Tom’s fingers grazed against her knee and she trembled, her eyes flicking down to his hand and back up to his face. “You can tell me,” Tom said warmly. “You can tell me anything.”

She blinked. Never before had she heard those words. Nobody has ever wanted to hear her story before, for they all thought they already knew it all by now. She was the child who was left on the Lestranges doorstep as a baby, the child the Lestranges took in to ‘raise as their own’ because they just couldn’t bear giving such a young girl away since they were so kindhearted.

So never had she ever thought she’d be given the chance to tell someone about herself, to let someone read her story. But there was something about Tom, and she felt like she could trust him.

“I’m… I was left on their doorstep as a baby,” she began, and Tom nodded, encouraging her to continue. “I was… I am muggle-born…” she trailed off, wincing as she searched Tom’s face for disgust, but he didn’t even recoil. He only gazed at her with that same patient stare, waiting for her to keep going.

So she did.

“They hate me for it,” she added. “For having dirty blood. I’m not sure why they kept me, I could’ve been a Squib or not even a witch at all for that matter. Thankfully, I got my Hogwarts letter when Tiernan did.” She wrung her hands together in her lap, Tom’s warmth drawing her even closer to him. “It certainly didn’t help that I wasn’t sorted into Slytherin.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat back down again, and Tom let his palm rest on her knee again, his touch warm, like a kiss from the sun itself. She felt relaxed when he touched her, despite how nervous she actually was inside.

“They treat me… so bad,” she whispered. “They treat me like I’m nothing.”

Her voice wavered before it broke, and when it was clear that she wouldn’t be able to continue, the hand that had previously been resting on her knee retreated so that it may instead reach her face. Gently, he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her face up to his, her teary eyes searching his for something, anything she could hold onto. Warmth, comfort, reassurance, hope, anything.

So Tom would tell her what she wanted to hear.

“You are not nothing,” Tom murmured, and her lip quivered the longer she stared at him. “You are somebody. Don’t let them take that feeling away from you.”

She blinked and her brow softened, her vision blurring with tears. She was somebody. Tom Riddle thought she was somebody.

And somehow, that seemed to be all she needed to hear.

A silence ensued and they only gazed deeper into one another’s eyes. With the grip still on her chin, he drew her near and he leaned down to meet her halfway, his lips pressing against hers softly, as tenderly as he could. He felt the way she shuddered under his touch, as if his kiss was a tranquilizer, and she was becoming limp and pliant, all for him.

So he kissed her deeper, he kissed her harder. His tongue was warm in her mouth as she let him reign dominance over her own, her hands shaking as one cupped the side of his face and the other grabbed his bicep.

This was what Tom Riddle had been fantasizing about for years. To have her compliant beneath him, to have her completely under his control. He loved how easy it was, how easy it was to have her. Although he’d admit, this connection he felt towards her was growing, and it was growing at an alarming rate. As he pushed her down onto the mattress and trailed his kisses down from her lips to her jaw, he found that his heart burned, as if she had set it aflame, and this feeling was foreign to him.

He had no idea what this tenderness he felt was, whether he dared call it love or not. For eighteen years, he was under the impression that he couldn’t love, that love simply just wasn’t in the cards for him, and he was completely okay with that.

But this feeling, whatever it was he felt for her, came unexpectedly, and he was unsure whether or not he should embrace it or push it away.

For now, he worked at unbuttoning her blouse as he sucked marks into her neck, his tongue swirling around her collarbone.

She pressed her lips together to contain her noises as Tom slipped her blouse from her shoulders and down her arms, discarding it down onto the floor altogether. He made quick work of her brassiere, his lips previously kissing her collarbone venturing down between the valley of her breasts, sucking marks onto either mounds of flesh.

“T… Tom,” she mewled as he pressed a kiss to one of her nipples, kneading her opposite breast with his palm. He hummed in reply, gazing up at her through hooded lids as he sucked the erect bud, releasing it with a wet pop before doing the same to the other. She squirmed beneath him and squeezed her eyes shut, arching her back up off of the mattress. “T… Tom, I… they will punish me if they hear me.”

Tom smirked against her skin as he released her nipple from his mouth and kissed down her stomach, past her belly button, all the way to the hem of her skirt. He pushed himself up by the elbows as he hooked his fingers over the hem, beginning to tug them down her thighs.

“Then I suggest you stay quiet,” he said simply as he removed her skirt from her ankles, her panties soon joining the sea of clothes on the floor as well.

She sank her teeth down into her bottom lip so hard when he placed a kiss just above her aching clit, she feared she’d draw blood. Tom eyed her through his hooded stare as he teasingly dipped his tongue past her folds, testing the waters. He watched as her face scrunched and she kicked her legs, arching her back at just the simplest of touches.

So eager, he thought.

He soothed her stomach with one of his palms as he pecked her clit, watching the way she trembled and writhed, whining behind closed lips, silent pleading for more. Tears broke past the glossy barrier of her eyes and began to spill down her cheeks like crystals, and he smirked as he pressed his lips down against her heat, sucking her clit as it throbbed and ached to be touched.

She threw her hands down on the mattress on either side of her, her fingernails clawing at the sheets as he flicked his tongue up and down her slit, humming at the taste of her nectar on his tongue. She tried to watch as he lapped up the juices spilling down her folds before flicking his tongue against her bud again, but she couldn’t even hold herself up, much less keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds.

“P… please,” she mewled quietly as one of her hands ventured down between her legs to grip at his hair, and she ground her hips against his face, eager for more. That was when Tom stopped and pried her hand away from his head, and she blinked up at him through her bleary eyes.

“Do you want to come?” He asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, shouldering it off of him and tossing it to the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes. She gaped at the sight of his chest, but he grabbed her face again and forced her to look at him, squishing her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question.”

She trembled and felt her walls clench at his words, nodding up and down. “Yes. Yes please,” she whimpered as he tore his hand away from her face to work on his belt, tossing it and his trousers away until he stood before her completely in the nude, in all of his glory.

He was beautiful. And he was already beautiful to begin with but this, she never could have even imagined how he looked underneath the clothes. He wasn’t muscular or built like a statue or even a Quidditch player, but still, his arms and torso were toned, and his cock…

She could feel her patience slipping away the longer he kept her waiting. She watched as he took a hold of his cock and stared down at her, maintaining eye contact as he gave himself a few pumps, his other hand absentmindedly stroking up and down her slick. She bit down onto her lip as she gazed up at him, watching him in anticipation for what was to come next.

Tom leaned back down to her face and captured her lips with his, unable to resist the temptation any longer. He kissed her again and again and again as he slipped inside of her, her moans muffled by his mouth on hers. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dug her fingernails into his skin, etching crescent moons into his flesh. Tom broke their kiss and let his forehead drop onto hers as he rocked his hips into her, slowly at first. One of her hands slithered to cup the back of his neck as tears streamed down the sides of her face, never feeling this good in all her years.

Tom let his gaze fall upon her face again, her eyelids squeezed shut but her face scrunched in pleasure, every once in a while muffling her sounds by pressing her face into his shoulder. He began to thrust harder than before, her legs wrapping around his waist and squeezing, beckoning him further inside of her. So he fucked her harder, and harder and harder and harder as if he intended to break her, to shatter her into a million pieces.

And maybe that was the goal all along.

Never has Tom felt this good, never had he felt so intoxicated by another person, and never did he believe he could be so attached to someone else before. Part of him hated it, part of him wanted to throw it away and stomp on it and set it on fire.

But the other part of him embraced it, another part of him felt powerful as he fucked into her with reckless abandon, powerful having someone underneath his control. He never imagined another person could feel so good, he never imagined someone else could make him feel so infinite. As far as he was concerned, he was doing just fine on his own.

But this was different. This was on a whole other level of power. He felt strong, even when she clenched around him and gushed around his cock, even when he felt himself so close to the edge, so close to releasing himself for another person.

He pushed away from from her and groped her chest with one hand, holding onto her shoulder with the other as he fucked her harder than before, without a care for how much noise they were making. He’d make it up to the Lestranges, he’d go down and tell them it was him making all the noise, it wasn’t like they’d punish him.

For now, he focused on chasing his release, on the way she felt around him, on the way he was so close to climax he could practically taste it. She sobbed beneath him and her lips fell agape with the intent of screaming his name but he clapped his hand around her mouth before she could as he thrusted again and again and again until finally he released, and warmth surged through her.

Tom’s chest heaved and he fell on top of her as she cried, motionless beneath him. Sweat made her skin glisten and tears made her cheeks swollen and sticky, but he found that he admired her all the same.

This warmth in his chest was new, and it was a feeling he couldn’t quite place or put a finger on. But if whatever it was could make him feel like he was on top of the world, like he was the most powerful being on this Earth, like he was infinite…

…then surely he could learn to embrace it.

a/n; oop this is the longest imagine i’ve ever written 🙈 thank you so much for the request anon! i wrote this one up pretty fast because i really liked the idea, it definitely wasn’t stupid! so i hope this is close to what you’ve been imagining!! and feel free to send in more requests if you’d like! i love writing requests!

| 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

@darkmoviesquotespizza 🥹🫶

#tom riddle x you #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #wizarding world #harry potter fic #harry potter fandom #harry potter imagine #harry potter #tom marvolo riddle

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luizd3ad · 2 months

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NFWMB | Barty Crouch Jr x Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr x GN! reader

WC: 180

CW: angry Barty, Talks of Bullying, Barty being protective, so slight angst, no use of Y/N

Authors Note: Just a little blurb for an idea I got while listening to hozier. I've just been having Barty brain rot lately.

Summary: Someone made you cry and Barty isn’t having it.

⊱ ─────── ஓ๑∗๑ஓ ────── ⊰

“Who did it?”

You look up at a furious looking Barty Crouch jr, with your tear stained face you shake your head lightly.

“Leave it alone Barty.. Please” You say letting out a sigh and looking down at your hands.

“Angel. I’m only going to ask one more time before I burn this whole bloody school down.”

Barty says crouching down in front of you to make you look him in the eyes.

“Who did this? Who made my angel cry?”

Barty says tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear and looking more serious than you think you’ve ever seen him be before, it was actually quite unnerving if you're being honest.

“Mulciber and Avery.. They were calling me names and just being cruel..”

Barty nods his head slowly and stands up and kisses the top of your head.

“I'll be back, angel.”

“Barty please don't do anything, just leave it be.”

“Can’t.”

Barty says walking to the door of your dorm and he looks at you one more time before leaving, saying.

“Nothing Fucks with my baby.”

⊱ ────── ஓ๑∗๑ஓ ─────── ⊰

#barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr x reader #barty x reader #slytherin skittles #Spotify #bartemius crouch jr #bartemus crouch junior #the marauders #marauders #harry potter #hogwarts houses #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hozier #blurb #the brainrot is real #Barty Crouch jr x you

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slyther-bi · 10 months

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Mulvry

Klaus Mulciber/Wes Don Avery

1st pic - Them as kids, they fell asleep in Avery Manor

2nd pic - Wes hugging Klaus at random

3rd pic - They found a snail outside while exploring the garden in Avery Manor.

4th pic - A picture of them taken in their 5th yr at Hogwarts

5th pic - Them dancing alone during some ball

6th pic - Them trying to snog in some closet in hogwarts but someone interrupts

7th pic - Wes and Klaus learning about movies/shows after Severus shows them a tv

8th pic - Them messing around while on a mission....they're young and dumb.

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snetunia-snosier-lover · 2 years

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My favorite trio of Slytherin in their teen years.

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Avery: So, are you two dating now?

Severus & Mulciber: Yes.

Avery: Why?

Mulciber: I happen to find Severus very appealing.

Avery: Yeah, I can understand that. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with Severus.

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Avery, walking into Mulciber and Severus's bedroom in the middle of the night: I had a bad dream.

Severus: What was it about?

Mulciber: No, don’t ask him that!

Severus: Why not?

Mulciber: Cause he’ll answer!

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Severus: Due to personal reasons, I will be fucking sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a large metal box.

Avery: Did Mulciber say 'I love you' and you said 'Thanks'?

Severus: THE REASONS ARE PERSONAL–

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Mulciber: Severus isn’t answering my messages.

Avery: Allow me.

Mulciber: I tried 6 times, what makes you thi-

Severus: *replying to message* Hello.

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Avery: Is there anyone here who’s actually straight?

Severus: *raises hand*

Mulciber: *puts his hand down*

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Avery: Hey, Mulciber? Can I get some dating advice?

Mulciber: Just because I'm with Severus doesn't mean I know how I did it.

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Severus, to Avery: If you see Mulciber, give him this message *makes a neutral face*

Severus: He'll know what it means.

*later*

Avery: oh, and Severus said to give you a message.

Avery: *makes a neutral face*

Mulciber: Oh no. The neutral face of displeasure.

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Avery: Why did you guys dress up as each other for Halloween?

Mulciber: Severus is the scariest thing I could think of!

Severus: Mulciber told me I should pick the dumbest costume possible.

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Mulciber, knocking on the door: Snape, open up!

Severus: It all started when I was a kid.

Mulciber: That’s not what I-

Avery: Let him finish!

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Mulciber: Severus is gonna kill me.

Avery: No, he'll probably make me do it.

#I love them #I truly do #snulciber #severus x mulciber #mulciber x severus #avery #mulciber #severus snape #severus snape prince #house of slytherin #slytherpride #slytherins #hp #incorrect hp quotes #incorrect quotes #hp shit

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slytherin-boys · 8 months

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Wes: Where’s Klaus?

Will: Doing stupid stuff.

Wes: I don’t like the sound of that. Where’s Evan?

Will: Trying to stop Klaus from doing stupid stuff.

Wes: And Severus?

Will: Trying to stop Evan from stopping Klaus from doing stupid stuff.

Wes: I see. And what are you doing here, Will?

Will: I’m supposed to stop you from stopping Severus from stopping Evan from stopping Klaus from doing stupid stuff.

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justagirlwholikesadam · 7 months

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"How can I prove it?"

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

SFW Blurb

Young Severus Snape x fem! Hufflepuff Reader

A/n: My obsession with Harry Potter, came back after I was sick for a week and I binged all the movies. I forgot how much of a crush I had on Professor Snape that I just had to let it out and do some writing. I do have a few things in mind but if people like this short blurb I’ll continue on. By the way, I haven’t read the books so if something doesn’t make sense just ignore it or stop reading. :) Enjoy - L

Summary: After being forced to watch a quidditch game, Severus found out that his friends are pushing him to make the next move on a certain Hufflepuff girl.

Warning: SFW, Severus being his emo self, lots of low self-esteem, curse words.

Word Count: 2.7K

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

He bit his bottom lip to stop himself from cursing as another harsh wind blew causing his long dark hair to get into his face again. He didn’t want to be here. It's not like he dislikes quidditch. He found it a bit entertaining but he would rather spend his weekend reading in the comfort of his bed but he was pulled from his bed by Mulciber and Avery.

“I'm not in the mood to see one of your pranks?” Severus said as they walked towards the field. He was used to watching Mulciber and Avery pull their stupid and mean pranks on the younger students.

“No pranks.” Avery said looking over his shoulder with a smile. Severus didn't trust that smile. He was thinking if he was fast enough he could cast a spell to freeze them so he can go back to his bed.

“Our House isn’t playing. Why are we even here?” Severus said, shooting them a glare as they made their way up to the stand. He can see the players, blue and yellow uniforms everywhere. He sighs as they sit down, he had managed to take one of his books before they pushed him out of the room. He didn't want to leave without one, there was no point in watching this game. His house wasn't playing so why waste his attention on it.

“Don’t be like that. We must support your girl.” Severus took a minute to realize they didn’t mean Lily but they meant you.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Severus mumbles at them trying to ignore the tips of his ears burning. There was no way a girl like you would be with him. You were his potion partner and nothing else. He had mistakenly let out to Mulciber and Avery that he found you attractive and kind. He was always focused in potion class but now every once in a while he would glance over at you. The way your lips curled up when smiling, your eyes were bright whenever you stirred the cauldron. You always tried to get him to talk about himself. Asking him about shows and food but he kept his mouth shut. How can someone like you be interested in what he likes? Deep in thought thinking about you he felt a slight push to his right side making his book slip out of his hands.

Severus was about to snap at whoever sat next to him, making him drop his book and the worst thing happened, he lost the page he was at. He looks over and notices platinum hair. It was Lucius Malfoy, he was surprised that the eldest students of House Slytherin was in a Hufflepuff Quidditch match and sitting next to him. Nods and greetings were usually what Severus received from him. They weren't close friends but Lucius knew about Severus.

“Which number is your girl?” Lucius asked him. Severus looks over at Mulciber and Avery who shrugged their shoulders at him. They didn’t mention you to Lucius, Severus made them swore to keep it a secret.

Severus shook his head and cleared his throat. Lucius and him watched as the players flew around. “I don't have a girlfriend.”

Lucius chuckled as he crossed his legs and looked up at one of the girls. “That's funny.”

Severus frowned. “What's funny about that?”

“Because of the way both of you look at each other.” He tensed up when Lucius draped an arm over his shoulders and pointed at the sky with his left index finger. Severus follows his gaze at you.

“She has a pretty face. Nice body. That smile.” Lucius whispered as they looked at you flying with your team. Severus agreed with the older boy. You were smiling as you flew with another girl who just scored a goal.

“How did you manage to get the prettiest Hufflepuff? Fuck- if I was you, I would just bend her-” Severus was about to cut him off when Narcissa walked up the steps to where Lucius and Severus were sitting. He quickly removed his arm from Severus.

“Hey, love. Hey, Severus.” Narcissa said, sitting next to Lucius who kissed her cheek.

“What are you guys talking about?” Severus looks away from them. He wanted to leave, what a mistake it was to come here. He ignored the looks the crowd gave him. The two richest and popular students were sitting next to him and talking to him.

“Love, you know Y/n Y/L?” Severus' eyes practically pop out of his head when he hears Lucius. He grips his book in his hands tightly thinking of any excuse to leave. He didn't want the world to think he had a crush on you. He would get bullied even more.

Sure, you were kind and pretty to him. You barely made him feel like a freak when you worked with him. He sometimes ignore you whenever you waved at him during lunch or when walking down the halls.The other male students would glare at him whenever you spoke to him. Severus knew what they were thinking. How can the prettiest girl be talking to skinny, pale, Snivellus?

“Yeah, I do. She’s the seeker for Hufflepuff. She asked me about Severus.”

Severus dropped the book in his hand once more and turned to face Narcissa. “What?” He asked, ignoring the hoots from Avery and Mulciber behind his back. Why would you ask her for him, he didn't understand it.

“She asked me if you were dating anyone. I said no.” Narcissa said nonchalantly as she looked down at her nails.

“This has to be a joke.” He groans at her but Avery places a hand on his shoulder. “Ask her out. She’s probably waiting for you to say something.”

“Fuck.” Severus mumbles as he leans down to get his book. He didn't notice the look Lucius had when he looked over at Avery and Mulciber.

“HEY! Y/N!” Lucius yelled. Severus had a horrified face when he grabbed his book. He looked to his right and saw Lucius standing up from his seat. His wand pointed at his throat to make his voice loud.

“Stop that! You can’t just call someone in the middle of a match. Especially a seeker.” Severus said standing up. He clutched his book against his chest. He had enough of this. He was going back to his room and never leaving until Monday. He should have never come here. He damned Avery and Mulciber for bringing him here and Lucius along with his girlfriend.

Severus froze when a gust of wind passed him. He can see a yellow cape by his side.

“What’s up?”

He didn’t know if he should be angry at the fact that you actually came or the fact that Lucius greeted you with one of his charming smiles.

“You know my friend here, right?” Severus let out a yelp when Lucius grabbed him by the shoulder and leaned against him acting like they had been friends for years. Severus was too shy to look at you. He wanted the world to swallow him whole.

“I do. Hey, Sev.” He finally manages to look at you and his heart is flipping inside his chest. You were smiling at him while you're in the air riding your broomstick. He can hear your teammates calling out for you and such but you didn’t turn around.

“Hey, Y/n.” Severus smiles back before looking down at his feet.

“He wants to go out with you. Do you want to go out with him?” Severus right then there would have given his soul for the stand to collapse.

“Yes!” Severus looks at you surprised. “If you want to. I wasn’t sure if you-“

“Look, I’m sorry if he made you do this as a joke but I’m leaving now. Continue on with your match.” Severus has had enough he was going back to his room. He quickly starts leaving, ignoring his friends calling out for him.

“Wait!” He flinched at the sudden gust of wind and saw you had followed him.

“I’m serious. I really do want to.” Severus saw you looking over your shoulder when your teammates started yelling at you to hurry up.

“How can I prove it?” You asked him. Severus didn't want to believe it. How could he, he's been bullied so many times. The only girl he liked was Lily. Now she doesn't want anything to do with him. The word dare came to his mind, were you paid by Potter to go out with him? Did someone put you up to this?

“Severus?” He hears you call out for him. He can see the seeker of House Ravenclaw flying by you but you didn't take your eyes from him. He didn't want you to lose the game because of him.

“Get the golden snitch if you're serious.” He said. He was waiting for you to laugh at him and reveal your true nature. He waited for the words, ‘Idiot, I don't really want to date you.’

Instead you smiled at him before nodding. “Pick me up outside of the Hufflepuff common room at 6.”

You didn't let Severus respond, you quickly flew away back to the game leaving him in the stand shocked. Severus made his way back to his seat, he rolled his eyes at the sight of Avery, Mulciber and Lucius smiling at him.

“Went well?” Lucius asked as Narcissa cuddled next to him. Severus looks at him with a frown. “Why help me?” He asked, not understanding.

“Us, Slytherins have to stick together.” Severus was not satisfied with his answer.

“Merlin, Severus!” Lucius said laughing as he looked at Severus who had a deadpan expression.

“Oh! Shit!” Mulciber yelled as he rose up from his seat and pointed at the sky.

Severus saw the ravenclaw seeker and you head to head flying up to the sky. He saw the golden snitch gliding across the field. He frowned when he saw the ravenclaw seeker pushing you with his shoulder. Lucius let out a laugh when the ravenclaw seeker fell off his broom when you pushed him right back advancing to get the golden snitch.

Severus without realizing had stood up trying to get a better view of you. He held his book against his chest as he watched you reach your hand out flying towards the golden snitch. A huge smile broke out on his pale face when the horns blew and the announcer of the game roared with happiness.

“Y/N L/N just caught the golden snitch! HOUSE HUFFLEPUFF WINS!”

---

He was standing in front of the Hufflepuff common room. He can hear cheering and music playing inside. He was nervous that perhaps you had completely forgotten about the date. He stood a foot away from the doorway, he began to fiddle with his slender fingers. He decided to wear his “nice” muggle clothes, none of them had any holes. He had even charmed them to fit his frame right and even brushed his hair.

He was going to speak to you after the game but your teammates had carried you out of the field as they cheered your name. He let out a sigh as he looked over at the clock hanging on the wall. It was 6:03 now and you haven’t come out of your room. He shook his head, calling himself an idiot. He shouldn’t have believed that you were interested in him. Turning around to head back to his room, he heard the door open. Music and people chattering were loud, he ignored it until his name was called out. He halts when he hears someone running behind him.

“Hey!” He looked behind when he felt someone grab his arm. It’s you. You have changed into muggle clothes as well. His dark eyes went straight to your lips, they were shiny. Your lashes are darker and longer, he then realized you got all dolled for him. Maybe you did want to go out with him, he thought to himself.

“Hey, I didn’t think you-“ you shook your head, cutting him off.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” Your answer caught him off guard.

“Congratulations.” He said looking back at the door where your house was celebrating their win.

“Wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you.” He lets out a shy chuckle. You gave him a smile when he looked down in embarrassment.

“It’s true. Gave me the right push.” Severus notices you grabbing your shoulder bag and lifting the flap to get something inside. He looks at you with his brows raised when you hand him a book.

“Dark Arts VIII.” Is written in silver on the black leather cover. It’s old, and Severus saw it before in the library but never had the chance to read it. He wondered how you managed to get it.

“This is for you.” Severus does a double take looking at you and at the book.

“Me.” He whispered. You nod at him.

“I asked Narcissa about you. She told me you like the Dark Arts. I know you like potions but that’s all I know.” Severus knew it was his fault for that. Every time you tried to get near him outside of the classroom he would go the other way. You would offer him a hello but as soon you wanted to get near him, he would disappear.

“I wanted to know more about you.” Severus runs his fingers on the bind of the book before looking back at you.

“Thank you for this. I feel horrible for not giving you anything.”

Avery and Mulciber were behind a pillar watching the scene in front of them. They thought the castle would crumble when Severus smiled down at you. They watched the pair laugh before walking down the hall.

“You’re stepping on my fucking leg.” The Slytherin looked at each other thinking it was one of them speaking.

“Shit! My bad.” Avery and Mulciber looked behind to see the door to the HufflePuff commoner half open, four heads stuck out. The fourth one gasped and disappeared when making eye contact with the Slytherin.

“Hey!” The first head was a blonde girl, she greeted them.

“You’re his friend?” Avery nodded and the third head who was a brunette smiled.

“We are Y/n’s friends. Wanted to make sure she's okay with your friend.”

“He does something and I’ll hurt him and you guys.” A voice came out, the door was pushed open completely. Mulciber’s eyes widened when a tall blonde came walking out into the hall.

“Severus isn’t that type of guy.” Avery said, then looked at Mulciber for some kind of help. Mulciber was so busy looking at the blonde that he didn't notice Avery. Mulciber let out a wince when Avery hit him in the gut.

“Yes, that’s right. Severus wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” Mulciber told the blond guy.

The Hufflepuff's students looked at the pair of Slytherin for a moment. “Fine.” The tall blonde said then looked down to the hall. They all did, Severus and you were long gone.

“She’s our friend. Just want to make sure she’s fine.” The brunette spoke as she slipped out of the door and stood next to the blonde man. They all seemed to know about Severus and his reputation.

“Our friend too. He’s a good lad. People are just assholes.” Mulciber commented.

“Yeah, Potter and that guy with the last name Black? We heard about them.” The blonde said, rolling his eyes. Mulciber and Avery looked at each other not sure how to get the fuck out of here.

“We should be heading back.” Mulciber said as he took a step back to walk to the Slytherin's common room.

“Why not join us?” The brunette asked, looking back to the room then at them.

“We got music and food.” The blonde man said. “Herbs.” Mulicher’s eyes widened when he saw a girl coming out of the common room with a blunt between her fingers.

“Sure, a couple of hours won’t hurt.” Avery heard Mulciber say. The students of House Hufflepuff smile at them as they welcome them inside.

#severus snape #young severus #sfw interaction only #cute #fluff #harry potter #severus x reader #severus x y/n #alan rickman #harry potter fanfiction #Severus fanfiction #young severus snape #young Severus snape fanfic

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

Text

rip-off

sirius black x slytherin!potter!reader

w/c: 2.9k

summary: sirius is so enamored with you, his best friend's sister, that he's too distracted to play properly. when a poor play by sirius renders you severely injured, he and james must handle the aftermath.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Tensions were high between you and James the day of the first Gryffindor-Slytherin match of the year. Walking into the Great Hall together, you jumped up to tousle James’ untamable hair, earning a mocking laugh from him as you came up short, just managing to grasp the tangles at the back of his neck. You groaned.

“This is bullshit! My birth was a rip-off! You got every damn tall gene and I came second and you saved me none, you… you-” You were cut off by a pair of strong arms across your waist, lifting you in the air as you shrieked. Sirius grinned mischievously at you as you realized what he was doing. Practically tackling James, you jumped onto his back and clung your arm around his neck as you were finally able to dig your fist into James’ head as he let out a strangled yelp.

“Get off me, you pest! You should’ve never been born in the first place,” James shook you off as the three of you burst into laughter, Sirius shoving his friend forward as the two approached the Gryffindor table and you departed to the Slytherins.

“Your sister is… really something.” Sirius glanced over his shoulder at you, who was slapping your knee with mirth as you caught your breath at something Regulus had said. His stomach panged with jealousy— no, pre-game nerves—as he watched his younger brother swing an arm around your shoulders.

“She means well. Being friends with Regulus, I mean. I know you guys aren’t on the best terms, but I think they’re good for each other. Keeps the two of ‘em from hanging out with that crowd.” He juts his chin towards Severus, Avery, Bellatrix, and Mulciber.

“You’re right, it’s just… don’t you wish she was a Gryffindor sometimes? She’s fun and nice, and she gets along with the lot of us so well, and…” and pretty too, he thought guiltily.

“Don’t tell me you’re going soft on her, Padfoot. You know her, she’s an absolute menace.” James elbowed his friend good-naturedly. “Now eat. She’s also a mean seeker, and I am not about to get beat by my younger sister in the first quidditch match of the year.”

Remus caught Sirius’ eye, eyebrow raised subtly. Curse Moony and his stupid perception.

Sirius was caught up in his thoughts the rest of the morning, even as he was putting on his quidditch gear. Godric, what is wrong with you? Have you truly gone mental? She’s your best mate’s younger sister. Younger, too! Too young for you, and too good for you, and she’s James’ sister! James Potter, your friend who would kill you if he found out about your feelings. Which don’t exist, of course. No, you don’t have any feelings for her. It’s brotherly affection. It’s-

“PADFOOT!” James’ face was right in front of his. “You’ve been off your game all day, mate. We’re starting in 5, you gotta get your shit together. And I know you have a tendency to go easy on my sister—which I normally would appreciate, by the way—but this is war! On the pitch, she’s not my baby sister, she’s the enemy. Act like it!” James clapped as he led the team into the stadium, cheers exploding from each of the houses, minus Slytherin. Opposite the Gryffindors approached the Slytherins, led by their keeper and Captain, Emma Vanity, whom you had gushed about on multiple occasions. You wiggled your eyebrows at your brother, meeting Sirus’ eye with a poorly suppressed smile. Sirius pursed his lips to hide his own.

The older Potter and Vanity shook hands, his face immediately hardening as the young Madame Hooch called, “mount your brooms, please. Now, on your marks…” Hooch’s silver whistle cut through the stadium as the teams shot upwards. Davey Gudgeon’s dramatic throat-clearing as he amplified his voice filled the air.

“AND THEY’RE OFF! LOOKS LIKE MALFOY IS QUICK TO GRAB THE QUAFFLE WITH POTTER ON HIS TAIL; OHH, BLACK IS QUICK WITH THE BLUDGER AND POTTER HAS POSESSION OF THE QUAFFLE!” From your peripheral, you saw Mulciber lean forward on his broom to catch up to your brother, with Malfoy closing in on the other side.

“AND POTTER DODGES A BODY BLOW WITH A SLICK DIVE, LIVING UP TO HIS REPUTATION AND THAT BLOODY PRIZE I HAVE TO SCRUB DURING DETEN-”

“STAY FOCUSED, DUGEON.”

“Right, my bad Professor… THERE GOES THE LITTLE POTTER AFTER HER BROTHER, YOU KNOW THE TWO OF THEM ARE QUITE ATTRACTIVE, I’VE ALWAYS WONDERED IF THEY HAVE VEELA BLOOD-” With a huff, Gudgeon’s commentary was cut short with an impatient elbow from McGongall.

Your smile only grew at the Slytherins cheered your name; you relished the stinging wind against your cheeks. You swore you caught a glimmer of gold underneath James as he escaped Mulciber and Malfoy, but it was nowhere to be seen now. Returning to a circling position above the rest of the players, you made eye contact with the Gryffindor seeker, Patricia Rakepick, a seventh year who couldn’t help her soft spot towards you, despite the complaints of the older Potter. You grinned at each other, until Rakepick broke eye contact and whizzed right past you.

“RAKEPICK, LOOKING LOVELY AS EVER, HAS SPOTTED SOMETHING! POTTER IS JUST BEHIND- OW, LOOKS LIKE A NASTY HIT FROM MR. SIRIUS BLACK HAS INCAPACITATED WILKES. NEVER FEAR, ROSIER IN POSESSION OF THE QUAFFLE… MACDONALD’S BLUDGER MISSES… AND HE SCORES! 10-0!” The Slytherin stand roared, a sea of green and silver erupting from their seats.

While Wilkes pumped his fist and blew exaggerated kisses to the Slytherins, you took an opportunity to find Rakepick. There she was, with the snitch just a few meters away!

“IMPRESSIVE SLOTH GRIP ROLL FROM RAKEPICK TO DODGE MEADOWES’ BLUDGER… LOOKS LIKE THE SNITCH HAS GOTTEN AWAY.” Sirius took a second to glance up at you, as if to assure you hadn’t been caught up in the bludgeoning. Of course, you were fine. You were a perfectly capable quidditch player; why wouldn’t you be fine?

“POTTER STEALS THE QUAFFLE FROM WILKES, WHO’S BACK IN THE GAME… NICE TWIRL FROM POTTER AS HE MISSES LESTRANGE’S BLUDGER… MALFOY COMES IN AND SLYTHERIN IS IN POSSESSION OF THE QUAFFLE AGAIN!”

“Sirius Black, what in Godric’s fucking hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be bludgening Malfoy and his lot! Get your head in the game!” Sirius woke from his trance as fuming James flies past him, chasing after Lucius.

“MCKINNON INCOMING… SHE’S GOT THE QUAFFLE AND SHOOTS… AW, A GOOD SAVE FROM VANITY AND MALFOY’S GOT THE QUAFFLE AGAIN!”

The glint appeared right in front of your eyes. As Malfoy sped towards the Gryffindor goalposts, the snitch followed. Your blood raced with adrenaline as you wove between your older brother and the other chasers, hot on Lucius’ tail. Lucius was fast, but the snitch was faster.

“LOOKS LIKE THE YOUNGER POTTER HAS SPOTTED SOMETHING; COULD IT BE THE SNITCH? LOOK AT THAT- GOING HANDS FREE AS SHE FLIES OVER MALFOY’S HEAD… RAKEPICK COMING IN FROM THE LEFT…”

Amidst the chaos, the snitch had begun a rapid descent. You and Patricia Rakepick dove after it, but your smaller frame pushed completely against the handle of your broomstick gave you just that extra push of speed. Your fingers were mere centimeters from the snitch as Sirius raised his bat, knowing James would murder him if he let Gryffindor lose with 0 points just because of his reluctance to attack James’ little sister—perhaps even worse than what he’d do if he found out Sirius liked… no, Sirius didn’t… he was just…

In his internal fight, he hit the bludger with a resounding crack as it began spinning and gaining momentum as it whizzed towards you. It was too late for you to react before you were violently knocked off your broomstick, one arm reaching desperately for the handle. There was screaming from the stands as you fell through the air clutching your hands to your chest, but you couldn’t hear anything with your heart thundering in your ears. The players froze as James let go of the quaffle to race after his sister, your eyes closed as you cursed Hogwarts for not letting students apparate and cursed yourself for not being able to apparate anyways. Sirius, momentarily frozen, heard Remus and Peter’s voices shouting for him to do something, anything. His stomach twisted as he followed James down, hoping that at least one of them would be able to reach you in time.

He was wrong. You hit the ground with a dull thud and a whimper, followed by a crunch that made both James and Sirius wince. How many meters was that? Sirius didn’t want to know. Madame Pomfrey was quick to rush to your side while Madame Hooch motioned the players to come down for a time out.

“Give me space! Out of the way, boys, I need to see her.” Pomfrey fought her way past the panicking Sirius and James, who turned as they heard Remus and Peter’s footsteps approaching with Lily in tow; Regulus coming from the Slytherin stands. Sirius glanced at his younger brother, who pressed his lips together in a forced smile. Sirius was about to open his mouth and say something when Vanity stormed over, face flushed, Marlene and Dorcas following behind.

“Sirius. Fucking. Black.” She emphasized each word with a shove to his chest, standing a couple of inches above Sirius. “What was that? What were you thinking? You nearly killed her! Wait, did you kill her? Is she dead? Holy shit, you’re fucked up, you know that? What the fuck is wrong with you?” She was crouched next to you only moments later, gently brushing your hair out of your face with calloused fingers. Pomfrey swore under her breath, tapping her wand against your chest rhythmically, her fingers pressed against your neck checking for a pulse.

“Good news everyone! She’s not dead.” Pomfrey announced to the small group which had gathered around. “But the bad news is she’s severely fractured multiple ribs, appears to have major head trauma, which would make sense because she fell off her broom for the sake of this stupid, dangerous, purposeless game,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose, “a broken arm, and a bruised tailbone.” Pomfrey stood up and gestured to allow the students to check in on you as she and McGonagall spoke in harsh whispers.

“Shit. Shit, shit shit. Fuck.” James was the first to jostle through, collapsing to his knees in front of you. McGonagall didn’t even look his way as he spewed profanities. Sirius couldn’t move. It was his fault. He got distracted. James told him to get his shit together, not kill his little sister! And, like the screw-up he was, he did exactly the latter.

Your eyelids fluttered as you saw James’ terrified face above yours. With a weak groan, you opened your hand, the snitch in your scraped palm. “We win,” you chuckled hoarsely, wincing as pain tore through your chest.

“You’re such an idiot. You’re incorrigible, you know that? Can’t ever stay out of trouble,” tears slipped down James’ face, leaving tear marks as they washed away the grime on his cheeks.

“Is she okay?” Lily whispered in James’ ear, who was too caught up in his worries to even think about how close the love of his life was to his face. James could only sniffle. Dorcas rubbed Marlene’s arm while Peter patted Sirius on the back and Remus rubbed his shoulder, sensing his distress. Sirius could only watch as Regulus took your hand, fingers passing over the small scuff next to your eye with Sirius’ eyes fixed on his brother’s movements with a clenched jaw.

“Listen, you’re gonna be okay. I’ll take you up to the infirmary and stay with you until you feel better,” Regulus smiles reassuringly. “C’mon, up you go.” Pomfrey levitated you onto a stretcher and headed for the castle, Regulus by your side. McGonagall shooed Remus and Peter away, insisting they weren’t needed here and instructed the two captains to deal with their respective teams. But Sirius couldn’t move; it was as if he was tethered to the ground in chains of guilt and jealousy watching your figure disappear.

“You good, mate?” James threw his arm around Sirius’ shoulders as Peter and Remus walked away with concerned glances thrown over their shoulders.

“Prongs, I nearly killed your sister! Why the fuck are you asking me if I’m okay?” Sirius hissed as he pushed James away, storming towards the locker rooms.

“Hey, don’t ignore me!” Sirius ignored him. “I said, don’t ignore me!” James slammed his hand against a locker as he blocked Sirius’ path, hoping to force a word out of his friend, but Sirius only looked at the ground.

“It’s not your fault, Pads. She’s the toughest quidditch player I know. More so than you and I, even,” he forced out a laugh. When Sirius continued to refuse to make eye contact, James grabbed him the shoulders and shook him roughly.

“Hey, I hate to resort to this, but this isn’t bloody about you and your guilt. First of all, it’s not your fault. You did exactly what you were supposed to, and an accident happened, and she’s gonna get Pomfrey treatment, which means she’ll be on bed rest until she’s completely good. That woman’s ego could not handle having a patient leave without full recovery, you know that. She’s in good hands.” Sirius’ red-rimmed eyes flickered between James, looking for any trace of blame. There was none.

“Second, moping around and drowning in your emo feelings will do nobody any good, except maybe Slughorn, who’ll get a real kick out of your silence in Potions. Go shower or something, you smell like Snivellus; meet me in the infirmary when you’re done, okay?”

Sirius watched James disappear into the distance, just as he watched the water disappear into the drain, and just as he felt any chance of being your friend disappear into thin air. All he ever wanted to do was keep you safe, and make you smile that radiant smile of yours, and if he was lucky, bring out that infectious laugh that turned him stupid every time he heard it. Now, he was lugging equipment up to the infirmary with damp hair and puffy eyes, not ready whatsoever to face you.

“Padfoot, you’re here! She’s still asleep.” James motioned for the sullen boy to join him and Regulus at your bed. Regulus was once again, by your face, threading his fingers through a strand of your windblown hair. There it was, that feeling in his gut. It was probably hunger; he hadn’t eaten a proper breakfast and then he’d played quidditch.

Sirius sat across from Regulus, who looked up from beneath hooded eyes with a silent glare which Sirius read to mean, “don’t you dare come near her. You don’t deserve her. She’s mine.”

“Alright Mr. Potter, you smell awful, and Mr. Black, you’ve been here for too long. The both of you—out!” Pomfrey ushered the two boys out, much to their protests, and turned to Sirius with something that looked like pity in her eyes. “As for you… you get eight minutes.”

Sirius watched as you slept, brows furrowed. He reached to brush away the dirt on your forehead, but his hand froze just as his fingers came close enough to feel the warmth of your skin. He stiffened, wondering if he even had the right to be sitting next to you when he was the reason you were here in the first place.

“Please… please, you have to be okay. You have to. I don’t know what I’d do…” Sirius murmured, finally finding the courage to swipe his fingers across your skin. “You know, James says he doesn’t blame me for this. Is it selfish to wish I wasn’t here right now? You- even when you sleep, you’re so-” he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud; it felt dirty, like a betrayal to his brother. You’re so beautiful. You’re so reassuring. You’re so strong.

“I haven’t even gotten the chance to tell you how I feel. I don’t know how I feel, actually.” Sirius laughed mirthlessly. “But I feel like I should. I should know how I feel, I mean. I should know how I feel about you because you- you’re always so confident and I can’t be that for you; I can’t even get my shit together.” He sighed, pulling his hand away from where he had been rubbing gentle circles against your temple, wondering if you’d hate him. The worst part was, that he knew you wouldn’t.

Sirius sat by your bed for a while, head between his hands as he replayed the fall— the way your eyes closed as if you had resigned yourself to the inevitable impact, the way he foolishly thought he could save you, and the way he didn’t. He jumped at Madame Pomfrey’s chill hand, freshly sanitized. You don’t belong here, all sterile and bland. You’re nothing like that. You’re the light. You’re my brilliant, Gryffindor red and I’m not even brave enough to tell you how I feel. Or to fucking admit how I feel to myself.

Sirius could hear Pomfrey’s foot tapping in concern as he left the infirmary, picking up his quidditch equipment from the floor and wishing he had never stepped foot in the stadium at all.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#sirius black imagine #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader angst #sirius black angst #sirius black x potter!reader #best friend's sister #maurauders era #maurauders angst

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