rainydayathogwarts - Tumblr blog

rainydayathogwarts · 3 days

Text

Ron weasley - Opposite teams

Summary: You play a match against your boyfriend, who's a very sore loser. wc: 2k

Seeing him on the pitch shouldn't have had such an effect on you, especially considering you were playing for the opposite team. The gear looked good on him, and confidence was beaming off his skin, but you were one of the best chasers at Hogwarts, priding yourself on how rarely you missed a shot. "Pull yourself together Y/N!" Flint yelled at your frozen form, still in shock of what had happened. It was all because Ron had flashed you that stupidly gorgeous smile when you were about to score that you hesitated - hesitated enough for him to read your body language and predict your next move, easily catching the quaffle when you threw it. Even your boyfriend had been surprised, well aware of how good you played from years of watching you on the field.

"Wow! It seems as though L/N is too charmed by her boyfriend to get a good shot, this is a new one folks!" Begins Lee, rousing up those in the bleachers. "And it looks like Slytherin Captain Flint is calling for a time out! Good choice I'd say!" It was already embarrassing enough that the entire school knew the time out was being called because you were too hot and bothered by your boyfriend, but your face flushed a dark red the second the Slytherin team turned to look at you in disappointment. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I don't know what got into me, he's just so- I can't be the primary shooter I'm sorry!" The entire team looked back at you as you rambled and you felt your face get impossibly warmer realising you were gushing about your boyfriend to six teenage boys. "I'm sorry." You muttered.

"Y/N's right," Starts Flint again, "She shouldn't be the primary shooter for this game..." His voice trails off and your gaze drifting to where to Gryffindor team stands. You can see them laughing for a moment, and Harry pats Ron on the back - the reason you missed literally couldn't have been more obvious and they were having a field day about it. "Got it Y/N?" Your head snaps back to Flint, looking at you with raised eyebrows. Your face goes blank, your mouth opening as though to say 'what' but nothing comes out. "You'll switch places with Nott as secondary." Malfoy says quietly to you, and you perk up "Yes, got it!" Flint doesn't look convinced, but calls time out to be over anyway, and everyone gets back on their brooms.

"Stay focused or I'll knock your boyfriend off his broom!" The remark is clearly aimed at you, but is loud enough for both teams to hear and you glance at Ron, whose face has blanched at the comment. You turn away from him, trying not to smile, and the whistle blows. Nott scores time after time after time, and you can see your boyfriend's confidence decreasing while his anger increases. Nott passes you, high-fiving you on the way back to his post. "Good strategy change by the Slytherin team, it seems that they're back - OHH AND MALFOY CATCHES THE SNITCH, GAME OVER EVERYONE!" You're relieved to be off your broom when the game end and you sigh deeply, rolling your head in a circle to try and stretch a kink in your neck out.

You finally join your team, earning pats on the back by them, and teasing comments "Well he's not gonna be happy about that one." and "Good luck getting laid tonight." The comments follow you all the way back to your dorm since Pansy walks with you back to the common room. "I don't even know how that happened though! You never miss! Like you can't be so attracted to someone that, well that happens. He's going to be in such a prissy mood, good luck with that."

The party in the common room is in full blow when you finish showering and getting dressed. You're clad in a tight black mini-skirt with a red crop top, something your boyfriend will hopefully appreciate. "I see what you're doing." You're interrupted by Draco, who eyes your outfit once before handing you a drink. "I think you underestimate just how capable I am of getting my boyfriend in bed, Malfoy." He grins, shaking his head "Well if you have the effect on him that he had on you, I doubt it'll take much." You scoff in amusement, the jokes will never end. "Hey if Marcus asks where I am, don't tell him I'm sleeping with the enemy." But Flint is already beside you, muttering "Cheers" under his breath, so you scurry away quietly, starting your trek to the Gryffindor common room.

The Gryffindors' party is completely different. The music in the background is quiet, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team sits together, each player with a drink in hand while they talk. Others seem to be having more fun than them. When Ron spots you walking towards him, he rolls his eyes, clearly upset. His teammates, on the other hand, greet you kindly, some even joking about the slight incident on the field. You stand in front of Ron, putting a knee on the couch between his legs to support yourself when you put your hands on his shoulder, leaning into his body.

Despite Ron's free hand coming to the back of your thigh, he still mutters "I'm not in the mood." though he leans into your touch when one of your hands comes up to play with his hair. You tilt your head down so your lips barely graze his ear "You're so hot when you're angry." Ron stiffens, looking up at you, but your head is already dipping lower so you can press kisses on his neck. He shivers at the cool touch of your slightly wet hair on his collarbone, and his eyes flutter close for a moment. When he opens them back up, Harry is grinning at him and wiggling his eyebrows. Someone wolf whistles, but he doesn't know if it's directed to you. He feels your teeth graze the spot you've been sucking on right below his eye and he sighs, trying to disguise his pleasure as annoyance, pushing your hip away from him.

Yes, he wants you, but he has to at least pretend that he doesn't for a while longer because he's still angry, and wants you to feel as though you need to try a little to win him over. You've played his game before, and you know what follows. When Ron nudges at your hips one more time, you separate from him, tilting his chin up so he can look at you. He's putty in your hands, but you like to give him the illusion of being in control, so when you kiss him, it's a soft, almost desperate kiss. "Ronnie," you plead "Please." And that soft whisper is enough to make him begin to stand up. You back away, pushing your bottom lip forward and making doe eyes at your boyfriend to stop yourself from grinning in accomplishment.

His shoulder brushes past you and he begins walking up to his dorm, but when you catch up with him, snaking your hand in his, he only holds your hand tighter, so you know you've won. Ron's door slams shut behind you, and immediately, hands are on you, pushing you against the door and groping your ass while he kisses you aggressively. The kiss is filled with angry passion, and Ron's tongue is fighting against yours for dominance. Both your arms are thrown over Ron's shoulder in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer to you so your tits are pushed up into his chest. The hands on your ass move to your front, sliding up your crop top and cupping your tits, while Ron pulls away from the kiss to attack your neck.

Moans are immediately escaping your mouth in soft breaths, your back arching into Ron's hands, pulling and massaging at your breasts, teasing your nipples. His teeth bite at your neck, and one leg comes to shove itself right between your thighs and you jerk up, an electric shock being sent right through you. At your loud gasp, Ron looks down to where his leg connected with your cunt, and his hand immediately pushes your skirt up to find that you're not wearing panties. "What a little slut. No underwear under a mini-skirt? You're practically begging." He grunts, and you whine, grinding your pussy against his thigh. "Just for you, Ronnie."

The comment seems to make him happy, at least happier than he was before since he starts working on taking your top off. "Get this skirt off now." He mutters, his attention back on your tits the second they're exposed. Your bra drops to the floor at the same time your skirt does. Ron pulls away from where he was leaving hickeys on your tits, and takes a moment to oggle at your naked body. You falter under his stare, a hand coming up to grab the material of his t-shirt. "Ron?" At the sound of his name, he looks back up, taking an impossible step closer to you and pressing his lips to yours in a slow kiss. "You're so fucking amazing." He mutters between kisses, all of his previous anger seemingly gone "Don't deserve this. Don't deserve you." Before you can react to his words, his hands are wrapping around your waist and carrying you to his bed, where he immediately shuts the curtains of his four-poster.

He wastes no time pressing his clothed cock against your naked, which has you moaning his name, bucking your hips up for more friction. "Take it off, take it off." You beg. He complies, chuckling at the sight of your hips bucking up, but takes his time stroking his cock once it's finally freed. His demeanour completely flips the second he pushes into you; his hips snapping at a faster pace than you can keep track of, his hands grabbing both your legs to pull over his shoulders. The angle is perfect and with the way his cock is hitting the right spot with every stroke, you're sure you won't last ten minutes.

You're tightly gripping the bed sheets and you're almost positive that your eyes are going to get stuck at the back of your head because of how hard they're rolling back. "Mmph, bloody hell you feel so nice." The compliment only spurred the pleasure inside you and you moaned louder, bucking your hips up for something more - anything more. Ron's hand comes down to your clit in a harsh slap, and quickly starts putting pressure on it, watching as you squirmed underneath him at the extra friction. His pace sped up and your legs started to shake on his shoulders, a sign that you were clearly close. Ron's hand begins rubbing quick circles on your clit and hips start erratically jerking into you as he releases his load into you, triggering your very own orgasm.

Ron rides out both your orgasms, stilling his movements when you put a hand on his chest. He pants, his chest heaving with every breath he takes as he takes your legs off his shoulders. "Christ, that was too much exercise for one day." He mutters, looking down at you when you open your arms wide for him. He falls into your awaiting arms and mumbles "Can't sleep. Need to clean you up." You moan, shaking your head at him. "Just five minutes."

#harry potter #ron weasley fanfiction #ron wealsey #ronald weasley #ron weasley smut #ron weasley #ron wealsey x y/n #rainydayathogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #gryffindor #hp #potter #the weasleys #weasley

33 notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 10 days

Text

Keyboard go BRRRRRRRRRR

18K notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 10 days

Text

35K notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 10 days

Text

Get to know the writer!!

I made one of these before but idk what happened to it and that was like 2 years ago so....

I like to go by mina on here since it's my preferred nickname and i don't want to go by my full name on here for obvious reasons lol.

I'm super into acting, musical theatre, directing, anything cinematography but I also think like political and medical awareness is really important and everyone needs to have a baseline knowledge on all of that in the world we live in.

My fav artists are conan gray (love his new album) and lana del rey but unfortunately she's a zionist...

People don't spread any negativity on my page and I want to keep it that way and spread more positivity in general. My asks are ALWAYS open (leave remus lupin recs bc i love writing him).

I write for: stranger things, harry potter, criminal minds, mcu (but i havent written for them in forever) and I've also written a couple of jennifer's body fics.

I went through a period where I thought I was bi but a whole year later I realised I'm not and just went through some self discovery, so I probably won't be writing for female characters but I want to try to keep writing them because I know a lot of people like those fics.

#rainydayathogwarts

0 notes

rainydayathogwarts · 10 days

Text

Ron weasley - Opposite teams

Summary: You play a match against your boyfriend, who's a very sore loser. wc: 2k

#harry potter #hogwarts #gryffindor #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley fanfiction #ron wealsey #ronald weasley #ron weasley smut #ron weasley #ron wealsey x y/n #rainydayathogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hp #potter #captain flint #draco malfoy #theodore nott

33 notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 10 days

Text

Choose what I write while I'm away

I'm travelling for a few days for a family wedding and the wifi sucks in my country so I'm going to be writing at night as much as I can. Realistically I think I'll write like 3-5 fics so choose the order in which I write them!

A) Aaron Hotchner - The team discovers you're dating (single!mom!reader)

B) Spencer Reid - You're an actress. Opening night of the show, a cast member is killed. FBI finds out you were the real target...

C) Eddie Munson - Your brother Jonathan doesn't approve of your boyfriend even when he's always over, but your mom and younger brother love him.

D) Draco x potter!reader - Spending the holidays without your bf is hard, so you find a way to see him (during Order of the Phoenix)

E) Remus Lupin - Your bf loves giving you head... especially when he's high, and doesn't mind having friends around.

39 notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 10 days

Text

should i just delete all my old terrible work or...

#fic writing

1 note · View note

rainydayathogwarts · 13 days

Note

i NEED anything with glasses reid or munch reid i’m literally frothing at the mouth 🙏

ty for ur request :D fem!reader

"Emily," you say weakly. "What is that?"

Emily looks up from her desk, clearly desperate for a distraction, the lip of her coffee mug against painted lips. "What's what?"

"That." You point. You feel sick to your stomach. "That right there."

"Oh," Emily says happily. "You finally noticed. Yeah, Spence forgot to renew his contact prescription. He has to wear glasses for two weeks."

Spencer stands by the photocopier with a perturbed frown, clicking a button, then another. His brow is furrowed and his hair is falling into his eyes. He has the stupidest, dorkiest, prettiest face, and practically every expression he makes has you weak in the knees.

"That long?" you ask.

Derek looks up in concern at your pained tone, following the line of your eyes. When he realises what it is that's hurt you so, he skirts around the desk to shake your shoulder. "You could always tell him how you feel. I'm sure he'd keep the lenses forever if he knew you liked them."

"I don't like them," you say. You sound faraway to your own ears. You hate them. They're gonna be your demise.

Spencer runs a fingertip across the photocopier's screen, in his own world as the machine finally begins to chug out whatever it is he'd been wanting a duplicate of. The frames of his glasses sit snug on his nose. You can tell from even this distance that the lenses make his eyes look a tiny bit smaller. You could probably point out a misplaced freckle if he asked you to.

"Don't be cruel, he looks cute," Emily teases.

Spencer collects his papers, shuffling them into a straight line as he makes his way back to the bullpen. You pretend to take interest in Emily's things. She sips her coffee too nonchalantly. Derek doesn't even bother pretending.

"What?" Spencer asks, swift to spot your suspicious behaviours. "Is it the glasses?"

You wince. "Of course not. You look… you look really nice, Spence."

"You know he used to wear 'em every day?" Derek asks.

You would've died. "Before I joined?"

"For a few years," Spencer says, looking you over. "You're unhappy. Is something wrong?"

He looks to Derek and Emily for confirmation. Emily stutters for an answer while Derek laughs in the background, "She– you know. She just– She missed breakfast!"

Spencer pushes his glasses up his nose by the leg and drops his copies onto the desk. "I have dried apricot in my bag. Two seconds."

He bends over his chair to retrieve his bag from under the desk. Your eyes blow wide at his position, the sudden demonstration of well-fitted pants. Derek's laugh echoes up to the eaves.

"And he has that twenty four seven," Emily says against the rim of her coffee.

You scrunch your eyes closed and tilt your head back. After a few seconds, a hand touches your elbow gently, a hesitance that comes with only one member of the BAU. "You okay?" Spencer asks.

"I'm okay. Headache," you lie.

Spencer presses the apricot into your hands. "Maybe you should see an optician. You know they can tell if you have a brain tumour from one photo of your sclera?" He smiles morbidly, his glasses slipping down his nose. "They measure the size of your optic disk. It takes less than a minute. I can give you the name of my doctor, if you want. She's nice. Not as nice as you."

Your throat is so dry you can't form words to answer him. He doesn't judge your rigid nodding.

"I'll write down the number for you. And, Y/N?"

"Yeah?" you choke out.

"You look really nice today, too."

Emily has to kick you in the leg to bring you back to earth. Stupid Spencer. Stupid lovely glasses.

8K notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 13 days

Text

Skin on Skin - Aaron Hotch

Summary: You forget about the hickeys on your neck and when your boss finds out, he's not happy about it. Warnings: Smut, jealous!Hotch, degrading (slightly), semi public sex (they're in an empty office). I think this is the single dirtiest fic I have ever written. Enjoy! wc: 3.2k

It was the hot days in July where you were forced to come into the office that took away your will to live. You'd rolled out of the mysterious man you'd slept with the night before's bed, driving home early so you'd have time to shower and change before coming into work. Deciding on opting out of wearing any makeup other than a little mascara, you changed into trousers and a cotton tank top, shoving a field-appropriate top into your bag just in case. You were already dreading the inevitable hair-sticking-to-your-neck type of heat so much that you forgot about the hickeys littering your neck, the hair tie on your wrist an enemy in disguise, waiting to launch its attack.

When you finally entered the bullpen nearly an hour later, you observed your teammates' attire. Emily had done something similar to you, her blouse hanging from the back of her chair, JJ wearing a thin but figure hugging t-shirt. Derek was sporting a loose, plain t-shirt, while Spencer decided to forego his usual sweater vest, his shirt rolled up to his elbows. Of course, you already assumed that Penny was wearing a sun dress without having to see her.

Placing your iced coffee onto your desk, you busied yourself with finding the paper work you had to finish in your desk drawers. "I should have worn a dress." You complain almost immediately, looking up to the sound of rolling wheels from someone's chair. "I agree. You'd send the big boss into a coma if you did, and we'd all be able to go home." Derek retorts almost immediately, to which you scoff. You never told anyone about your crush on Hotch, but you wouldn't deny it to a room of profilers, so they resorted to teasing. "Ignore Hotch, I'd go into a coma if you wore a dress." Emily adds. You grin, looking up at your best friend from your papers.

You huff, already feeling the sweat on your hairline. Your hands busy themselves with gathering your hair at the back of your head, fishing for the hair tie on your wrist when you see your coworkers' faces. "What?" You look behind you, fully expecting a scene in the kitchen based on their slacked jaws and wide eyes, but there's nothing there. Furrowing your eyebrows, you repeat "What?" Derek starts laughing, and Emily brings a hand up to her face, biting at her thumb nail to hide her smile. You let go of your hair as Spencer and JJ turn to observe the scene, which is you apparently, tilting your head quizzically as you tried to recall what you did this morning.

This morning. You rolled out of the unknown man's bed. The man who you'd slept with last night. You audibly gasped, a hand coming up to cover your mouth. You dove down to look through your bag, fetching your pocket-mirror. "Wow Y/N. Such a busy woman that you forgot you slept with someone." Two things happened as Emily spoke these words: Hotch opened the door to his office, hearing every single syllable that came out of her mouth, and you opened your compact mirror, eyes widening at the number and colour of the hickeys on your neck. A trail of three dark red hickeys painted your neck, and you hadn't even thought about covering them before you left your apartment.

Hotch frowned when he heard the words, almost flinching at the thought of you sleeping around. 'Such a busy woman that you forgot you slept with someone'. Did you sleep around? Is that what Emily meant or was she making a joke? Hotch saw you stand quickly, your hips hitting the wood of your desk and his pupils dilated at the sight, his tongue poking out to wet his lips slightly. "I'll be right back!" You yelped, turning to the direction of the bathroom, Emily immediately standing to follow you.

As you smudged concealer on your neck, you silently thanked whatever higher power was out there that you'd had a makeup pouch in your bag, or you'd be totally fucked. Like, way more than you were now. The door was thrown open by Emily, a massive grin on her face. "You got laid! Was it good? Who was it? Why didn't you tell me!" Your eyes fleeted towards her, and you chuckled quietly. "Yes I got laid, it was good - regular good, guy I met at the grocery store. Devon? David? Doesn't matter. I probably would have told you some time today but looks like you beat me to it."

"Oh. Well if it makes you feel better, I think Hotch looked pretty jealous." You spin towards her, your beauty blender in one hand. "What!? He heard!?" You groaned, throwing you head back. Scratch what you said earlier, Emily was the only person you'd confessed your crush to. You sighed. Well now you probably would never get the chance to be with him. You and Emily walked back to the bullpen, separating when you went into the kitchen, and she went back to her desk. You stopped abruptly at the sight of the one and only person you'd been speak of.

You only just noticed what he was wearing. He abandoned his usual blazer, probably left in his office, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Hotch turned around, mug in hand whilst the water was boiling to find you wide eyed and mouth open in shock. The top two buttons on his shirt were undone, his collarbones just barely visible. He nodded his head shortly, but you immediately averted your gaze, unable to maintain eye contact with him. "I-" At the sound of you speaking, Hotch's gaze shot back at you from his mug, putting the kettle down. "I'm sorry about what you had to hear this morning, Sir." Hotch shook his head, returning his stare to his mug. "Don't worry about it L/N. We're all adults." He picked up the kettle again, offering it to you. "Oh no thank you. I just want some water. Normal, cold water."

You stared at his steaming mug in bewilderment and laughed quietly. "That's kind of manic of you, I'm not going to lie." Aaron raised an eyebrow and turned to face you completely. "Right but forgetting you slept with someone isn't." Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at his retort and you felt the blood rush to your face. Aaron let one of his rare smiles pass at his amusement, and took his mug, beginning to walk away. "I'll see you around Y/N".

Hotch's comment had left you absolutely speechless. For the rest of the day you had thought about the smile that graced his face, only for you to see in the office. He'd even joked about the inappropriate comment Emily had made. It was only when JJ had left, and both Emily and Derek were beginning to pack their things up that you glanced up to where Hotch's office was. The blinds were closed, but you imagined he sat at his desk, vigorously writing reports, whilst occasionally throwing his head back and shutting his eyes in exhaustion.

"Now's your time to make a move lover-girl." Emily's breath hit your neck at she whispered and you jumped, looking back to where she stood just over your shoulder. "You scared me!" She didn't say anything else, but winked at you before speeding up to catch up with Derek so she wouldn't have to wait for the elevator alone. Maybe you shouldn't have told her about the encounter in the kitchen, but you decided that she was right. Maybe you wouldn't make a move, but speaking to Hotch would already be a step forward.

You stood up, wiping your hands on your trousers, attempting to ignore Spencer's unforgiving stare. You weren't holding any papers or folders. That was a big tell for Spencer, who knew more than anyone the liking you had taken to your boss, having to endure several car rides with the two of you alone, sitting in the back seat while you spoke. Walking up to Hotch's office, you took a deep breath - last chance to turn back around. But Spencer was watching, and nothing would be more obvious than if you just turned around and sat back at your desk; the walk of shame.

You knocked twice, waiting for an answer. "Come in!" You peeked your head through the gap of the door before letting yourself in, smiling at Aaron, who sat at his desk with his fingers interlocked behind his head. You shut the door behind you quietly. When he realised it was you, he sat up straight, his hands coming down to rest on the desk. "Y/N. What do you need?" He scanned you for papers to sign, or a bag slung over your shoulder as a sign that you were leaving; you were empty handed. "Hi. I just wanted to say I'm sorry again about what Emily said. I'm really glad you weren't bothered about it. I'm sorry. Again."

Aaron stood up from his desk, and your eyes followed his figure as he stood. He stepped aside from the desk, walking towards you. "Actually Y/N," he starts, his body looming over you as the distance between you decreased. "I was quite bothered with what I heard from Prentiss." Your breath caught in your throat, a hand crossing over your body to clutch your other arm. "What?" He nodded solemnly. "Mhm. I was quite upset to hear that you were with another man."

"Oh."

Your jaw went slack, and you looked into his eyes for any sign of a lie. You watched as one of Aaron's hands came up to your cheek, softly holding your face. His hand trailed down until it held the side of your face and his thumb caressed almost the exact spot you had covered with concealer earlier that day. "I don't like the idea of other men being with you. Other men having sex with you." Your breathing quickened, and you were almost certain he could feel your pulse beneath his hand. "Then do something about it."

Aaron's second hand went around your waist, and this time much less gently pulled your body towards his. His second hand snaked around the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. You moaned in shock, both hands resting on his chest. You returned his kiss immediately, going on your tippy toes to push yourself further into him. Aaron grunted into the kiss, walking forward to press you against the door. His hand came off your neck to lock the door behind you and he broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as you caught your breath.

He watched you almost predatorily before moving to press kisses on your neck. Your sweaty neck covered in makeup. "Aaron. Aaron." You spoke, pushing his head away from you. He looked down at you worriedly, now taking a couple of steps back, and putting his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make-" "Aaron stop." He looked up at you from the floor, going silent. "I-my neck is covered in hickeys. From-" You watched his face dawn with realisation. He frowned, turning his back to you and your shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Aaron." He walked to his desk, pulling a couple of tissues, soaking them in water from a bottle he kept on his desk. "Aaron." He then turned to face you again. "Take it off. Whatever is covering them. Take it off."

Your gaze switched between the tissues in his hand to his face and you sighed. Men knew so little about makeup. Despite that, you still walked towards him, taking the wet tissues from his hands, rubbing it against your neck, exposing the hickeys that lay underneath the makeup. "Happy- oh!" Your arms wrapped around Aaron's shoulders as he picked you up, placing you on his desk. He returned his lips to yours in an instant, hands gripping your hips. His lips moved to your neck but this time he's sucking the skin on the other side, replicating the hickeys the other man gave you. "Do I remind you of him? Covering your skin in hickeys?" He grunts, his teeth scraping against your skin. You gasp and your leg twitched, wrapping around one of his legs.

Aaron pulled away from you, his lips swollen and hair out of place. "Answer me." He snapped, his eyes glaring into yours. You shook your head quickly. "No! No, I don't even remember him!" You whined, attempting to pull Aaron closer to you. "What a slut. Can't even remember someone you were with 24 hours ago." Your hips buck against Aaron's hands when they come to the front of your trousers, beginning to unbutton them. "Stand up." You blindly follow his orders, used to obeying him. He spins you around so you're facing the desk and gives you a nudge, hard enough for you to fall forward, but gentle enough for your hands to catch you before you hit the desk.

Before you know it, your trousers are being pushed down to the floor, and you hear a rip of fabric. You gasp, the air hitting your now bare pussy. Looking behind you, you spot Aaron pocketing your ripped panties. "Aaron!" You whimper, but that only gets you a slap to the ass. "Be quiet! Do you want everyone to hear just how much of a whore you are, begging your boss to fuck you?" His words only make you moan, but his hand makes contact with your ass again. "I'm sorry." You whimper. "Good girl." His hands trail up from your hips to the skin under your shirt. "Now take these off."

Both your tank top and bra come off and suddenly you're standing completely naked in Aaron Hotchner's office, while he stands completely dressed. There's a moment of silence, then the sound of metal clinking. Your eyes follow as he places his belt on the desk next to you and he mutters "Don't make me use this." before pressing kisses on your neck and shoulder. You see his trousers hit the floor, followed by his boxers and you so badly want to turn around and see what he's packing, but you do nothing.

Aaron's dick slides between your thighs and you gasp, bending over slightly and spreading your legs farther. You hear Aaron chuckle at your desperation and suck in a deep breath, but you're given no warning when he begins to enter you. He goes in inch by inch, giving you time to stop him if you feel discomfort, but you don't. "Are you okay?" He asks once he's fully inside, the hand at your hips caressing your skin softly. "Yes." He nods, and just like that his soft demeanour is gone and he's thrusting into you at an unforgiving pace, his pupils dilated as he stares fixedly at the spot where his dick enters your pussy.

His pace slows so he can grab both your hands from the desk, holding them in one of his hands as the other one pushes you down so your torso lays on the desk, the cold wood hardening your nipples. Aaron's hands let go of yours - a silent command for you to keep them behind your back - and he gathers your hair away from your face. He can see the sweat glinting on your skin, it must be uncomfortable, he thinks, but the truth is that you're so deep in pleasure you can't think of anything else but that and trying to stay quiet. You shut your eyes tightly, biting your lip to keep you from screaming Aaron's name uncontrollably for the whole building to hear.

Quiet moans still escape you, and you imagine the sound of skin on skin must be loud, but none of that bothers you, not when you're having sex with Aaron. You squeeze your legs together, a subconscious sign that you're close to your orgasm. Aaron clearly sees it because he's tapping one of your legs and muttering "Spread them for me baby." You feel like you're just laying there limply, but you manage to do as he says, and you moan his name louder than you should when you feel his hand snake between your legs in search for your clit. He finds your clit quickly and begins rubbing circles on it, and even with you so lost in pleasure, you realise that Aaron's thrusts are becoming sloppy.

He's close to finishing too. Aaron's grunts begin getting louder and the hand on your clit is getting quicker and more desperate. Your pussy clenches against his dick and you hear a "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck." In response. Aaron's cum is instantly filling you up, and the extra stimulation triggers your release too. You whimper as you come, legs shaking while Aaron begins to slow his movements, the hand on your clit coming to a stop. He stops his movements completely when your eyes open once more and you stop moaning. Instead, he averts his gaze to where his cum is leaking out of you and running down your thighs.

"Shit baby. Let me clean you up." He mimics his earlier movements, getting damp tissues to clean up your thighs before he pulls out of you. "Aaron." You whimper again at the emptiness, hands coming in front of you to push yourself off the desk. "Shh, baby, it's okay. Stay where you are. Let me take care of you." Once Aaron quickly cleans himself up and pulls his boxers up, his whole attention goes to you, crouching down to clean his orgasm off your skin. He even pulls your trousers back your legs, buttoning them up for you before wrapping his arms around your torso, his back against yours. You lay your head on his shoulder and exhale deeply, moving your neck to the side so Aaron can press kisses there.

"Are you okay?" He asks pulling away from you completely so he can observe your face. "I'm more than okay Aaron. Thank you for- for all that." He presses a kiss to your cheek before pulling away to get the rest of your clothes. "Let me take you to dinner." "Now?" He hums yes and you smile, watching as he puts his belt on. "I'd love that. But Spencer-" "Oh forget Spence," He insists "I'm pretty sure the entire building knows." You smile, fingers looping in his belt hoops to pull him closer to you. You kiss him softly and smile. "Right, well let me go to the bathroom and I'll meet you in the lobby?" Aaron nods, so you turn around, exiting his office with a smile on your face.

At your desk, you grab your bag and look up to meet Spencer's eyes. Your face falls at the look on his. He looks partly traumatised, partly smug. "Well how did it go then?" You feel the blood rushing to your face again and you nod "It went well. Yeah, pretty good." But you run off before he gets to reply, dialling a familiar number on your phone.

"Emily you'll never guess what just happened."

536 notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 21 days

Text

The rabbit hole - Remus Lupin

remus lupin has a way with all the ladies, even the popular girls wc: 1.3k

Despite not being the most sought after marauder, Remus Lupin got more than enough attention from the ladies. Every knew it, especially you, who lived around girls always gushing about their newest crush. You have to admit, his name did come up a few times. But did it even matter? The term 'popular' wasn't one you’d use to describe yourself because you didn’t believe in putting people up on pedestals, including yourself. However, you couldn’t help it if those words were thrown at you by other people. You weren’t mad at it; getting attention from boys and being admired by younger girls was fulfilling and validating, and meant you never had trouble finding dates when you got bored.

Unfortunately, it seemed you had fallen into the same rabbit hole many other girls surrounding you fell into - the rabbit hole called 'wanting the one man who wasn't interested'. You don’t know when this fascination over him started, but you assumed it had to do with the fact that he didn’t pay any attention to you. It was refreshing, but frustrating. Guys always gave you what you wanted, or made the first move. Remus, on the other hand, had only ever spoken to you in class when you’d be paired up, and he’d never made a pass at you, unlike the two friends at his right and left side who had both previously flirted with you at parties in an attempt to getting on your roster. You had laughed and thrown a snarky comment at them before amusedly walking away. But Remus Lupin and his stupid chestnut hair had caught your eye, and when you wanted something, you didn’t stop until you got it.

Remus had noticed this new attention from you in potions class - a simple doe eyed look from you when you’d asked him to get pearl dust for your potion had him doing a double take, making sure he hadn’t imagined your signature move. He’d heard boys talking, and he had to admit, even he was intrigued by you. “Mate she just gave me those eyes...” was a popular start to a sentence when he heard boys exchange stories, but now that he’d laid his eyes on them himself, he knew he was in for it.

On the way back to his dorm, he wondered if that was you making a first move, or just a subtle ask for him to make a move. He decided that he'd wait and see, make sure he hadn't been mistaken and make a fool of himself by throwing himself into something nonexistent. The more he waited, the harder it was to hold himself back. Of course, Remus prided himself on being respectful to all women and being quiet, which is what drew many of the ladies in. This meant that he tried incredibly hard to hold back the flirtatious comments and sly responses during lessons. You knew the game he was playing, because you often took the route of playing hard to get.

"You're being delusional" Sirius finally told him, James nodding from his spot beside him on Peter's bed. "Like, good for you man if there is anything there, but there isn't." James said teasingly. "No- I swear! She's flirting with me! She's flirting and I'm enjoying it! She's flirting and now I like her, and now I'm like every other guy at Hogwarts." Sirius and James exchanged a look. "Well you're not like every other guy if you actually end up with her. How many guys have you heard of who actually became her boyfriend?" He thought long and hard, and when he looked back at the other two, knew they shared the same number. "None."

The map showed that you were alone by the black lake. If he wanted to catch you in time, he'd have to hurry along. He stole a book off his bed before rushing off, haphazardly throwing his jumper somewhere into the dorm. He slowed down his pace once he made it past the main entrance, catching his breath as he began walking in your general directly. Remus didn't want to seem to obvious, so he marked the page he had left his book from with his index finger dipping between the pages. His breath hitched when he got closer to you, realising you were just in shorts and a bikini top, enjoying the spring sun, a boombox next to you playing some music.

"Any chance I could sit in the shade under that tree without looking like a total creep?" He asks, gesturing to the tree merely a couple of meters from you. Your eyes flutter open, a hand coming to your face to protect your eyes from the sun. "Mhmm, I don't think there is. But that's okay, I'm used to being admired." Remus scoffs, sitting down with his back against the tree, and opens up his book. From the corner of his eyes, he sees your body turning in his general direction, as though surprised that he's not giving you any attention. If that was the case, his mission was already succeeding. He feels the hesitation from you, glancing up at you to see you open and close your mouth, speechless. You turn onto your back once more, closing your eyes with a sigh.

You both sit there in comfortable silence, but Remus hasn't turned a single page of his book and despite you having your eyes closed, the only thing you can think of is how close he is to you. Suddenly, you sit up, turning to take a long sip of the water bottle next to you. Remus has to pretend he wasn't looking at you, but when you address him by his first name, his head immediately snaps up to meet your gaze. "Yes?" "Want to go in for a swim?" Well he wasn't expecting that. You grin when he begins to stutter; you'd finally caught him off guard for the first time since you'd started flirting with him three weeks ago. "Well, I'm- I'm not in my swimmers." You cock your head to the side, raising an eyebrow at him. "Is that a problem?"

Yes, Remus wants to say. Yes, because I have scars and I'm insecure, and I don't want you to see me like that. But he doesn't say any of those things. Instead, he stands, and you follow his movements promptly. You wait for him to take at least his shirt off, but he only loosens his tie, pulling it over his head before stalking towards you predatorily. You try to take a step away from him when the proximity becomes too intimidating for you, but one of his hands snakes around your waist and your breath is hitching and he's leaning his head down close to your ear and you only hear "Hold your breath" before you're being whisked into his arms and your feet are leaving the ground.

You're suddenly gasping for air, breaking through the surface of the water, but you immediately spot Remus's grinning face, shaking his hair away from his eyes and you can't be mad. Like physically, it is impossible for you, even if your denim shorts are now all wet and you almost died. But you're swimming towards him and holding onto him with your legs wrapping around his waist and somehow you're leaning into him and pressing your lips against his. The position is weird: Remus can probably reach the ground, his hands supporting your denim-clad hips whilst your hands grip onto his wet uniform, but in some odd way, it's perfect.

The second you pull away, Remus's eyes are widening and he's muttering "Oh, no." Confused, you turn to see what he's looking at, only to spot a quickly approaching figure called the insolent Filch, already yelling about "Jumping in with Uniform!" and "Get them Mrs. Norris!"

369 notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 29 days

Text

me when “maybe i shouldn’t have said that”

1K notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 29 days

Text

Open arms - Emily Prentiss

Smut - the way this fic has been sitting half written in my drafts forever. Go me for finally getting it done. Summary: Emily can't help but approach her ex in a dimly-lit bar wc: 2.1k

Emily thought that the night would be nice and relaxing for her and the team, celebrating another closed case at their favourite bar, their laughter drowning out the sounds of other people's conversations in the dim-lit restaurant. That was until her eyes locked in on a familiar figure standing near the bar, most definitely accompanied by someone. Emily froze, her hand tightly gripping her drink, and audibly gasped when you turned around, exposing your face to her.

"Y/n?" She whispered, catching Penelope and Derek's attention, who both turned to look at her. "You okay there Prentiss?" But she really wasn't. You were her only partner who ever stayed up waiting for her to come home from a case, genuinely concerned about her. You held her in your arms, letting her just sit there and open up if she wanted to. If she didn't, it didn't bother you, and you showered her with love nonetheless, always managing to pull a smile from her. And you were definitely the best in bed. Having you withering under her, relentlessly crying out her name was an image Emily would never forget.

She regretted leaving you every day, but it would keep you safe. After seeing what Hotch had to go through, she knew it was the smartest decision. Now that you were there though, in person after over a year of being apart, she wouldn't be able to stay away from you. If you would let her that was. She remembered your reaction, how you completely broke down, calling bullshit on her 'keeping you safe' excuse.

"I'm fine." She said, bringing herself out of her trance to take a long sip of her drink. "That an ex of yours?" Derek questioned, looking at you, now talking to a friend. You looked gorgeous, he thought. Your short black dress showed off your long legs and had a low cut to display your biggest weapon, the heels you wore flexing your calf muscles in the nicest way possible. Your stunning smile exposed your white teeth while a hand flipped your hair over your shoulder. He wondered how a dumbass like Emily was able to get you.

Emily's head shot back in your direction when she heard coughing, only to find out it was you, your face now going red as you choked on your drink, your friend, who Emily now realised she knew from when you dated, rubbing your back. Oh no... When the coughing stopped, you immediately looked back at her, confirming your suspicions. She returned your eye contact, awkwardly waving at you before you were suddenly facing away from her, refusing for the interaction to continue, earning a sympathetic look from your friend.

Emily heard a chorus of "Oof" and "Oh"s from the team, who were all cringing at the interaction. "Shut up." Emily groaned, stealing a shot from in front of Derek and downing it. She coughed twice, ignoring Derek's complaints, and turned to Spencer who was now telling them a statistic about exes. "It was actually found that 44% of Americans get back with their exes at some point after breaking up. And that only includes relationships post-break up instead of one night stands, so I'd say your chances are pretty high."

As much as Emily was unimpressed that Reid was giving her dating advice, she found herself walking up to you the minute your friend left, leaving you alone at the bar. Better me than anyone else shooting their shot, she thought. It was only when she stood right next to you that she realised she had no idea what to say and that the entire team was probably watching their interaction. She cleared her throat, muttering a small "Hey." You jumped slightly, rotating on the bar stool to face your ex-girlfriend. Emily expect you to frown, thrown your drink in her face even, but to her shock, you cracked a small smile at her. "Hey Em". "Can I sit?" She asked, shifting her weight from one leg to another.

You nodded, watching her as she sat. She looked different. She had cut her hair into bangs and wore her hair pin straight instead of the loose curls she'd put them in. She wore a low cut black top with black jeans as well as her go to combat boots. You assumed she came here straight from work. When you looked back up at her face, she was still staring at you, her gaze stuck on your thighs. "Um, can I get you a drink or something?" Her head shot up and she shook it "No, I've had enough to drink. Thanks." A long awkward silence followed and you looked over at the table she had come from, watching as all of her friends' heads shot in the opposite direction apart from one of them, still cluelessly observing you.

"I'm sorry - I shouldn't have-" "No!" You cut her off, cheeks going rosy. "Why don't we go for a walk or something?"

That walk led you both to the side of the road, waiting for a taxi as you made small talk, no discussion of going to either of your apartments until you were both sat in the back of the taxi on the way to your flat. Emily's hand rested on your thigh, both of your sides pressed against each other, faces mere inches apart as her free hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to her. You felt your desire for Emily grow, squeezing your thighs together to get any amount of friction.

Emily's eyes caught the movement, smiling slightly as she felt her own core heat up for you. She leaned towards you to look out of the window, pressing her tits up against you as she tried to see how far away you were from the apartment, making small talk while you waited. The second the taxi driver pulled the car over, she was tossing her money at him and following you out of the car, both her hands resting on your hips as you led her into your fancy building and towards the elevator. The second you were in the elevator, pressing the button to the right floor, her hands were wrapping around your waist and she was pressing her lips against the soft skin of your neck.

You grabbed her hand when the elevator doors opened, leading the way to your apartment and frantically opening and shutting the door before you turned around, throwing yourself into Emily's arms. You slammed your lips onto hers, wrapping your arms around her neck as you pressed your body against hers. Her hands were immediately under the skirt of your dress, groping the fat of your ass in her hands. You pulled away from the kiss, muttering "couch" to Emily, who complied, bending down slightly so she could wrap her arms around the back of your legs and picking you up.

You squealed as she walked you over to your big couch, having forgotten about her FBI agent strength. She dropped you on the couch, crawling over you but you pushed her back so she fell flat on her back on the large couch, throwing a leg over her hips to straddle her. She tried sitting up but you pushed her back, kissing her again so she would give in, letting you take control of the kiss. Her hands trailed up your body until they reached your tits and she tugged at the front of your dress, letting them spill out the front of it. You gasped, and she took your shock to her advantage, throwing her hips up into yours and rolling over so she was on top of you.

Her hands were instantly on your tits, pulling and twisting at your nipple, the other one in her mouth. "Em, Emily!" You begged, trying to grind your hips into hers but she wouldn't listen, taking her time kissing all over your body. When she couldn't reach any more skin due to the fabric of your dress, she fully separated from you, ordering you to turn around so she could undo the zipper. So you got up onto your knees, allowing Emily to undo your dress and pull it above your head, before her hands were wandering again, down your stomach and into the skimpy panties you wore.

She moaned into your ear, feeling how wet you were before both her hands were at your hips again and she was tugging you towards her as she fell backwards, landing you in her laps. She welcomed your kisses, tightly gripping your hips as you ground your cunt on her jean-clad skin. Eventually, you got desperate, tugging her shirt up so you could feel underneath it, hungrily reaching for her tits. At your whine, she finishes the job for you, tossing her shirt somewhere in the room before your hands were back behind her, unclasping her bra.

Before you manage to throw yourself onto Emily even further, you feel her hand under your panties, immediately searching for your clit, which she finds in mere seconds. You hear yourself begging for her, struggling to hold yourself above her. Emily's hands manhandle you so your back in pressed against hers, your legs spread in front of you. Her hands begin wandering once more, and she inserts two fingers into your warm core. You cry out, arching your back as Emily continues to suck hickeys onto your neck.

Her unoccupied hand plays with your tits, alternating which one she massages. Your head rests in the crook of her next, trying not to buck your hips into her hand as she continues fingering you. Your chest heaves with each breath you take, and you're too far into pleasure land to think of how much of a mistake you were making. You feel the familiar knot building up in your stomach and whimper, your hands reaching below you to grasp Emily's thigh. Moaning loudly with an arch of your back, you cum on Emily's hand. Emily, who is whispering praises in your ear and brushing your hair out of your face with her free hand.

With the effects of your orgasm now gone and you catching your breath, you begin to internally cringe. Why on earth did you think this was a good idea? You will yourself to turn around in Emily's arms, whispering "Your turn", fully aware that she wouldn't say yes. "No baby, it's okay. This is just about you." You nod, allowing yourself to fall onto the couch beside her. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Dragging yourself up from the couch, your legs still shaking, you shut the bathroom door before Emily gets the time to follow you.

You wrap a free towel around your torso, mentally cussing yourself out, thinking of a way to get Emily out of your house. The clock on the wall reads 3:28. It's late. You should go home. Repeating the words to yourself, you open the bathroom door to be met with the tall brunette. She smiles widely, a hand coming to your hip to bring you close and kiss you softly. You return her kiss but can't bring yourself to do the same with a smile. She senses the change in your behaviour and you take that as your chance to tell her: "It's late. You should go." You look down and away from her face so you can't see the way her smile drops. "Right. Um, this was fun." Your hum is enough of an answer to her and you practically chase her to the door once she's fully clothed.

Once the door is shut behind her, you peek through the peep hole to see her bring a hand up to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. She calls someone on the phone, someone you can only imagine was at the table with her at the bar. Listening closely through the door, you hear "No Derek, I did not win her heart back. She's really done with me."

But it's late. You should go sleep.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader #rainydayathogwarts #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss angst #angst #female reader #smut #criminal minds #criminalmindsfandom #criminal minds fanfic #criminalminds #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fic #derek morgan #criminal minds smut #spencer reid

222 notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 30 days

Note

Hii hope you’re doing well, I was wondering if I could request a criminal minds blurb where reader is Penelope’s best friend and they’ve met for lunch in a cafe near Quantico, and reader is telling Penny about this new guy she hooked up with a few nights ago, reader tells Penny how big the guy was and then a few minutes later Spencer walks in and reader is like “P omg that’s the guy!!” And gestures towards Spencer who’s the only person ordering at the counter? I just feel like Penny would be equal parts both shocked and horrified that her sweet innocent boy Spence has a sex life but also that he’s HUNG?? I literally love you and all your Spencer works and I feel like you’d write this perfectly 🫶🫶

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Penelope is absolutely enraptured by the play-by-play you're murmuring to her over the low din of the cafe's patronage. The whirring and grinding of the machines behind the counter only further aid in your attempt to keep your conversation private, and you can smell sweet strawberries on the bubbly blonde when you lean in to give her details.

"And he reached for his fly- ooh, Penny, the way his arms looked," You gush, remembering the thick veins that had corded his bone while he'd wrestled with his belt, "He whipped his belt out of the way, and- stop!" You urge her when she wriggles her brows at you, "He took his pants off, Penny, and I swear to god I've seen thighs thinner than that dick."

Her resulting squeal is much less hushed than you'd managed to keep the rest of your conversation, and you swat at the arm that's not holding her coffee. She gets the message but resorts to stamping her feet beneath the table instead, a repeated clicking that blends in much better with the mechanical whirring of the baristas' handiwork.

"He was so thick, and Jesus- Penny, he was long, too, just big all around," You recall, insides throbbing with a phantom ache at the memory of what you'd taken last night, "I swear he had me seeing stars," You sigh, glancing down at the pale pink ring of lip gloss around the mouth of your cup, "I'd beg him to come over again tonight, but I think I need a week to recover."

"A week," She breathes dreamily, "I could barely feel the last guy I had."

"Oh, I could feel him," You laugh, "It's like I still can, I'm pretty sure he bruised- oh fuck!"

"What?" Penelope's brow dips instantly, concern etched into her pretty features, "What's wrong?"

"It's him," You grip her hand, nails digging into her skin, "It's the guy from last night!"

"Big dick dude?" She asks, and your frantic nod confirms her theory.

She tries to be subtle, bless her, when she turns to see him, but when the only person that she sees standing in line for a drink is her coworker, her brain chugs along slower than normal.

Where's big dick dude?

Oh, Spencer's here!

I don't see big dick dude.

Spencer is-

You're not sure even the most talented actor could ever recreate the sheer horror swimming in her gaze when she turns to face you again. Her eyes are blown wide and her mouth, lined in a pretty fuchsia paste, is downturned in a grimace.

"Please tell me you're not talking about the skinny mess in the sweater vest."

"That's exactly who I'm talking about!" You gush, trying to avoid his gaze lest he thinks you're trying to follow him around, "Penny, isn't he dreamy?"

"That's- oh my god," She recalls your descriptions, thicker than thighs, longer than you've ever seen, "I have to resign."

2K notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 30 days

Note

something cute with neville please? like an awkward crush moment in class?

Kiss and Tell - Neville Longbottom Also I didn't make this an in class thing but it's only elevated this piece... Gryffindor!Reader

You knew Neville liked you. So did all your friends. In fact, pretty much everyone who crossed paths with you or Neville knew he liked you. But for his sake, such as your own, you never mentioned it, instead enjoying the attention he gave you and giving him soft smiles before quickly turning away from him so he couldn't see you internally panic, all your blood rushing to your face.

Despite both being Gryffindors though, you almost never encountered each other in the common room, often being separated by your different friend groups, or spending the night differently. It just so happened that on nights you had Quidditch practice, Neville would be in the common room, but when you were free, he was no where in sight. Thus, when you stumbled down to the common room late at night to finish your herbology essay, you were shocked to see Neville, sitting by the fireplace with his friends.

Other than the group of dorm mates laughing quietly, the common room was mostly empty, excluding a few 7th year students who widely intimidated you. You rushed to the long table next to the bookshelves, searching for the herbology book you'd purposefully left there the night before in hopes of encouraging you to get your work done. You had been unsuccessful. Finally laying your eyes on the thick textbook, you sighed, slumping down on one of the heavy, uncomfortable, wooden chairs at the very corner of the table.

Rubbing at your temples, you predicted how the night would go; you'd sloppily write one paragraph before your eyes would start to wander around, another hour passing by before you'd realise that you hadn't written enough for a full essay, but would half-ass a conclusion anyway so you could at least submit something. Oh, well. You scoffed at yourself, picking up your quill. This is unsurprising. After writing about a paragraph and a half, you're essentially copying down the words from the textbook blindly, leaning your head on your free hand.

"Y/N?" Your head snaps up and you inhale deeply, realising you'd zoned out as Neville begins to apologise for disturbing you. "No, no- Neville it's fine, really." You watch as he pulls a chair out at the head of the table and he catches your eye, pausing his movements. "I'm sorry, I didn't ask. Do you mind? If I sit?" His cheeks are rosy and you try to stop yourself from smiling, but you feel the tug at the corner of your lips nonetheless. "No, sit, Neville. Please." As he sits, you can't help but glance back at where he was sat with his friends, and notice them all staring straight at you. They definitely put Neville up to this, you register, as they all abruptly turn away from you, realising you'd caught them.

"Herbology?" Your head snaps back at Neville, nodding at his words. "Do you- well, do you need help?" You shake your head at him, pushing the paper aside. "No. I'm done with herbology for the night. Forever, actually." You both laugh at your words, and duck your heads away from each other, avoiding eye contact. You reach for your open ink bottle at the same time Neville does, pushing it towards you. You're too busy staring at where your fingers touch to grasp the fact that some of the ink has splattered out.

And suddenly, Neville's hand is pulling away from yours and he's panicking, and he's apologising and trying to find napkins. You're sat still during all of this, only perking up when Neville scurries back with tissues, leaning over you to wipe the ink off the table in front of you. He's close to you. So close you can smell his cologne. One of his hands grasps the back of your chair as he bends over slightly to clean the dark wood. You look up at him, admiring the way his usually neat hair falls into his face, mustering the courage to place your hand over his, immediately putting a halt to his movements.

"Neville. It's okay." You begin to stand, and he steps back so you're free to do so. When he tries stepping back further to give you space, you reach your hands out to grab the hem of the sleeves of his navy jumper. You step closer to him so your chests are nearly touching and lean in slightly. You hesitate, giving him enough time to pull away if he wanted to, but he doesn't. Moving one of your hands up to his shoulder, you lean in close enough to graze your lips against his lightly before fully pressing them against his.

The kiss is short. You pull away to watch his reaction, but don't get to take a glimpse at his face because he's grabbing you by the hips and tugging so you're completely pressed up against his body, your lips meeting his once more. This kiss is longer. Both your arms come up to his shoulders this time, one hand playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. You feel his goosebumps on your fingertips, letting him pull away from you, panting heavily. You smile, one of your hands coming back to your face to wipe some saliva off your bottom lip.

Neville is smiling broadly, his face nearly as red as his dorm mate's hair. He makes eye contact with you, but you can see him struggle to maintain it. Your hand snakes into his, and only then do you hear the cheers from beside the fireplace coming from his friends. "Um, I - Go out with me?" Even though he's staring at his shoes now, you giggle, leaning over one last time to kiss him on the cheek. Whilst still close to him, you whisper "I'd love to." Before releasing your hand from his and beginning to leave, only to remember your things on the table.

You're too giddy to feel embarrassed about having to turn back around to grab your stuff, running up to your dorm once you're done, and slamming the door behind you. You freeze, afraid to have woken up your dorm mates, but when three heads poke out from the curtains around Lavender's bed, you realise the only thing you interrupted was a gossip session.

Throwing your books on your bed, you trip over your feet running to join them, a story of your own to tell.

A/N: To everyone reading this fic who follows me, I'm so sorry I haven't posted in FOREVER. I have been so busy with everything, but I'm on holiday and will write as many things as I can. Love from mina xx

#harry potter #hogwarts #rainydayathogwarts #gryffindor #neville longbottom x reader #neville imagine #neville longbottom fic #neville x reader #neville longbottom #neville fluff #neville longbotton x reader #hogwarts x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #wizarding world #harry potter fluff #lavender #lavender brown #platonic!lavender

75 notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 2 months

Note

Could you do something for cat animangus reader x Sirius where they're older like order of the phenix older during winter time and Molly makes a comment to Sirius about him having a sweet cat and when he turns to corner he finds reader cuddled up to Remus again do to his body heat and Sirius just reacts to a "really this again?"

Things between Molly and Sirius are still frosty, but the same stuff that chills between them glazes over the windows, and the winter air serves as a healing balm while everyone huddles around the fire for warmth.

The heating systems in Grimmauld Place are functional, but ancient, and it's much easier to stay by a roaring fire than to huddle by the floor vent on one of the upper levels. Sirius has insisted, as the owner of the house and as the man unwillingly cooped up inside of it for years, that he will make the cocoa, because if he goes any longer without making himself useful he will begin yearning to touch the fatally cursed objects his mother hoarded before her demise.

Molly relents, if only to keep his callused hands away from a music box that will kill him if the tune reaches his ears.

"Oh, that's lovely," The woman coos, peering at your feline form curled up on Remus's lap in front of the fire, "Remus, I didn't know you had a cat. I thought the only one we had was Hermione's, but he's orange."

"She's not mine," Remus hums, though he drags a palm flat over your head, letting you butt into it to your own liking, "She's Sirius's."

Molly's brows scrunch; surely Remus doesn't mean the dog man that stands eerily alert at the back door whenever he hears the pitter patter of little paws on the back fence-? But when the aforementioned animagus comes into the room with a tray of cocoa, she confirms Remus's words straight from the source.

"Sirius, your cat is lovely." She muses experimentally, watching the way the man's eye twitches slightly.

"Oh? And where is the little devil-?" Sirius peers around the room, and when his gaze lands on you lounging on Remus's legs, he shoves the tea tray haphazardly onto a side table with a scoff. It makes a cacophony of sounds; most of them unpleasant as glass-on-glass tends to be, "Oh, you're joking."

"Sirius, it's warm here," Remus attempts to calm the man, but it's no use as he steals a mug of cocoa and makes a break for the staircase. You're glad to see that prison never took his flair for dramatics, but he's being a tad ridiculous. Remus keeps explaining, "You're welcome to take her if you want to sit by the fire! She's just getting warm!"

"Keep her! Keep her," Sirius calls from the ledge of the second floor, "And Moony, why don't you just take the deed to the house, too! And my things, you can steal the clothes right off of my back next time."

With a huff and a flourish that are aided by his chin-length curls, Sirius turns to beeline for his room, and the slam of a door that rattles the paintings on the wall is your confirmation that your husband will be sulking until you pad upstairs and settle on his chest.

"Well, that was fun while it lasted." Remus drawls, scooping a hand beneath your belly and hoisting you out of his lap. He sets you on your feet, and you mourn the loss of the fire's warmth.

"Go humor him, love," Remus nudges you towards the stairs, and Molly watches bewildered as you begin your ascent.

"We've been having this fight for over a decade," Remus muses, sipping at his cocoa and skillfully avoiding a whipped cream mustache, "When your children aren't eavesdropping with that extendable ear, I'll tell you about the time he found her curled up in my bed instead of his."

2K notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 2 months

Text

Respectfully, they are not allowed

(I've been gatekeeping 'Chateau (feel alright)' for too long now i can't go back)

Guys tik tok is discovering djo what do we do

32 notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 2 months

Note

Hi there! I absolutely love the short write-up you did for Oliver Wood. <3

Would it be possible to request a short fic of Oliver Wood x Reader (other House) reuniting during the Battle of Hogwarts when they went back to fight, after having previously dated for a short time while they were schooling but broke up probably due to differences in priorities? Like they haven’t seen each other much since the break up and then graduating but seeing each other again made them want to give it another try. Thank you!!

So sorry I'm getting to this late, hope you like it!

Oliver Wood was a Hogwarts prodigy. Everyone knew his name alongside James Potter and Charlie Weasley's; they were the Quidditch Gods of the magical school. The names Regulus Black, Lily Evans and Y/N L/N were also quite famous, but for different reasons. The geniuses, students who soon after their time at Hogwarts became published witches and wizards for their incredible discoveries and talent.

That was one of the main reasons your relationship with Oliver Wood was so short-lived. You both had extreme talents, but they led you in opposite directions, only tugging you both further and further away from each other. Whilst you worked on magical discoveries that went beyond your education at Hogwarts, becoming known as one of the greatest witches of your time, Oliver worked relentlessly to fuel his passion for his sport which would build his career, his future. It only made the few months you spent together during your last year at Hogwarts unpleasant, the love you held for each other being over-powered by ambition, which led to the inevitable break up that shook all your friends, for they thought you would remain together forever, carrying out the legacy of being the one couple that would make it past their Hogwarts days.

Alas, that did not happen.

Instead, your magical discoveries were written and taught in the few years you had developed them and were the main source of protection for all the students who had decided not to fight the war, seeking shelter in the dungeons of the castle. Finally, what feels like days later, you're muttering the counter active spell, the hand holding your wand shaking with the trauma of the war you had just endured. When the protective force field finally breaks apart, you whisper the password to the Slytherin Common room. The portrait swings open and immediately the room falls silent. You announce that Voldemort's dead and spin around, heading into the direction you had just come from. You didn't want the reactions; The good, the bad or the dirty.

You wipe some blood from the side of your face, only to notice that the fabric of your long sleeved top doesn't soak up the liquid fast enough, and that you're bleeding quite heavily. Despite trying to stay calm, you begin to pant, tears blurring your vision, but you don't let them spill, not when you're so close to the Great Hall, where someone will have time to clean you up. Unfortunately, the way you immediately collapse onto a bench alerts more than just one person, and you suddenly have what feels like an audience crowding you. "Hey, hey, give her some space." The voice is familiar to you, but you just can't put your finger on who it is. "Y/N? Can you tell me your date of birth?"

The hand holding your face is gentle, and you can barely feel the tingle of the healing spell against the side of your face, which you take as a good sign. "You know my name." You recognise, slowly blinking. "Hey Y/N try keeping your eyes open for me, okay? Get me someone with skills here!" The demand goes to someone else, but it seems that those are the only words you're able to process. "So I take it I don't look so good?" Your words come out slurred and you feel your body slumping against something, or rather someone.

Oliver has resorted to being your own personal pillow. He didn't want you to look like one of the dead bodies, laying down still on the benches of the Great Hall, which has now become both a morgue and an infirmary. The spell he did on your wound worked, but he had one of the 7th Years going into healing fix you up and get some more blood into you to make up for what you lost. He felt your body sway against his and was immediately alert, even as you gathered balance to sit up on your own. He gave you time to process your surroundings, looking down at his feet instead. It was only when you cried "Oliver!" That he averted his gaze back to you.

"Y/N" He smiled, relieved that there was some colour in your face. You seemed confused yet surprised, putting together what had happened. "I haven't seen you in... A long time. How- are you hurt?" He laughed at your maternal instincts kicking in and shook his head at you. "No, Y/N, you got hurt. You were bleeding from your head and I just barely fixed you up." A look of realisation dawned on your face. "That was you? I... Well I feel bad now."

Oliver shook his head again, an awkward silence settling over the conversation. It was you to break the silence, stating "Well, I hear you're doing well now. I watched one of your games recently, you played nice." Oliver's eyes widened and he grinned, cocking his head to the side. "I can say the same about you, Ms. Published three books. And since when did you get into Quidditch?" It was your turn to act surprised now, retorting with "I've always liked Quidditch, I just didn't used to be into it. And you know, I wanted to see what was so special about Mr. Wood's Keeper skills here." Your eyes scanned the Hall around you, and the smile on your face slowly drops. As Oliver followed your eye-line, his did too.

"You didn't? You know, lose anyone important, did you?" You ask, now sounding a lot more empathetic. "Well I almost lost you for a second there." You glance over at Oliver and smile genuinely, matching the softness in his eyes. "Let me get you home safely. Everyone's already left." You nod at his words, using his arm as a support system for you to stand. You feel his muscles contract underneath you and look back up at him.

Despite the dirt and blood that freckles his face, he looks peaceful. He looks like someone you could find peace in.

51 notes · View notes