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dilf-lover99 · 1 year

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And I Love Her | J.P.

Pairing: James Potter x Female Reader

Summary: The 3 times James tries to get the girl and the 1 time he finally does. Or In which James Potter is hopelessly in love with his best friend.

Warnings: so. much. pining., idiots to lovers, miscommunication(s), a dash of angst, some heavy kissing, james potter being the literal definition of boyfriendism

Word Count: 4.8k

a/n: hi ! james potter won the poll and i am so completely okay with it. i really intended for this to be angst but he's just SO boyfriend. this may be my favorite thing i've ever written and i really hope you enjoy it too ! p.s. i missed u guys lots and i'm so grateful you've stuck around after months of crickets from me. love u love u love u<3

(y/n).

Depending on who you asked, it was only a name. The name of a classmate, or a friend, or yourself, but only a name nonetheless.

Unless you asked James Potter.

It wasn’t only a name. Not to him. To James, it was everything.

Because it was your name.

Your name that hastened his heartbeat with every mention.

Your name that sent a salient stream of blood rushing to his cheeks, tinting them a lucent shade of scarlet.

Your name that, once mentioned, seemed to follow him everywhere, as though the wind itself would begin whispering it, rustling alongside the branches of the whomping willow tree before floating its way over to his ears, sounding sweeter than any melody he’d ever heard before.

To state it simply, James Potter was irrevocably, inconceivably, in love with you.

But saying it that way didn’t seem like enough.

He didn’t just love you with his heart, for his heart could stop beating. And he didn’t only love you with his mind, for his memories could fail him one day. James Potter loved you with the entirety of his soul, with every fibre making up his being. Of that, he was certain.

What he wasn’t certain of however, was how to bare his infatuated soul to you.

After all, how exactly does one tell his best friend he’s besotted with her?

He tried the gentle approach first.

The train back to Hogwarts was filling up quickly. Stories of his peers’ summer holidays flow obstreperously through the air as James’ eyes remain glued to the door of him and his friends’ usual compartment.

“Ease off it with the evil eye, Prongs. She’ll be here.” Sirius’ teasing voice breaks James away from his thoughts, which were unsurprisingly fixated on you.

He doesn’t bother denying it, well aware he’s been staring daggers at the door since he stepped foot off platform 9 ¾, anxiously awaiting your appearance after spending the entire summer holiday apart from you.

“Leave him be, Pads. He misses her.” Remus interjects kindly, not lifting his eyes from the well-worn pages of whichever book he’s decided to burrow his attention into for the ride back to Hogwarts.

“Well he can join the bloody club then, can’t he?” Sirius starts, intent on ignoring Remus’ suggestion, “I’ve just about fallen for her myself after spending my entire holiday listening to this git recite his bloody sonnets for her,” he continues with a not-so flattering mimicry of a lovesick James, “It is the east! And (y/n) is the sun. O Romeo!” He throws himself dramatically to the floor on his knees, clasping his hands above his heart.

Peter watches the spectacle with a grin, covering up his chuckle with a cough after James sends him a look of warning. Before James can defend himself against Sirius’ melodrama, the door to their compartment slides open, revealing a beautiful and slightly out of breath you.

And suddenly you’re not the only one who’s out of breath.

You’ve gotten even prettier over the summer, somehow. If somebody had asked James before, if he thought you could possibly have gotten any more beautiful, he’d’ve laughed in their face, telling them tales of how your beauty could put Aphrodite to shame. But now? Now his heart was beating so violently in his chest he was almost certain it was attempting to escape, trying to take its rightful place upon your sleeve.

“Sorry I’m late, I nearly broke my neck out there!” You stop briefly to catch your breath, the jog on your way over winding you more than you’d care to admit. “Someone ought to tell those first-years there’s enough seats on here for the lot of us. I’ve just been walloped by a bloody eleven year old! Cheeky little-” You cease your rambling amidst your confusion at the sight before you, Sirius on his knees at James’ feet.

“Have I interrupted something? Perhaps a proposal of sorts?” You jest, your amusement growing at the wide eyed look on James’ face as he scrambles to stand, coming to greet you properly with a hug that doesn’t last nearly as long as you wish it would.

“No!” He protests instantly, amidst wrapping you in the soft embrace.

“Cor, I’ve missed you.” He mumbles after pulling away, leaving a hand on your back as he gently guides you to your seat beside him, hesitant to do so, as once you’re sat he’ll no longer have an excuse to touch you.

“I missed you more!” Your enthusiasm brings him optimism, there’s a chance she means it the way you do, he thinks, there’s a chance-

“And what of me?” Sirius and his bloody interjections. James has half a mind to lock him out of the ruddy compartment and leave him to fend for himself amongst the overzealous first-years.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” You feign confusion, though not very well, James can see the brilliant smile forming leisurely upon your lips. What I would do to those lips, his thoughts are running rampant after a summer spent away from your presence, too caught up to hear the jokes you and Sirius are trading back and forth, and that laugh! His internal monologue continues, ’s like a proper bloody song. Just ask her, right now. If she says no you can play it off as a joke. It might sting a bit, but surely it’d be better than keeping it all locked away.

“Will you go to Hogsmeade with me? Just us two? We’ll have a lovely time, I swear it.”

He knows what he was hoping you’d say, something along the lines of ‘Yes, James, I’d love to!’ but he wasn’t expecting it.

He also wasn’t expecting your given response.

“That’s a wonderful idea, Jamie, thank you! D’you see that, Sirius? A helpful suggestion. You ought to try one of those sometime.” You’re back to chatting with Sirius and Remus as Peter leans over to James, whispering an explanation to his visibly confused friend.

James had caught you mid-complaint about how you’d forgotten to bring the dittany leaves you need to make the special healing chocolates you gift Remus after a particularly bad full moon. After Sirius’ not-so-helpful suggestion to try substituting them with pot leaves, you gladly welcomed the chance to pop over to Hogsmeade with James and buy some more.

You’d mistaken his date proposal for a shopping trip.

Marvellous.

This is going to be the year that James tells you how he feels. He’ll make sure of it.

If for no other reason than this was your seventh and final year at Hogwarts together. His stomach churned at the mere idea of allowing you to slip through his fingers for good; you acting as the coarse sand to his adamant hourglass. He wouldn’t have it.

So he’d try again.

In the few weeks since you’ve returned to Hogwarts, your time’s been consumed by studying for your N.E.W.T.s. You’re also determined to acquire a spot in the internship programme at St. Mungo’s. The sheer amount of time you’ve spent there with your boys over the last few years has more than prepared you for a future as a healer if you end up enjoying the work.

“Alright, who was the first witch to extract floo powder?” James has spent the last hour and a half quizzing you on all matters Herbology, if it were anyone else he’d’ve been bored to slumber by now. But it wasn’t anyone else, it was you.

The two of you were sat outside together on a blanket, taking full advantage of the uncharacteristically sunny day. James is leaned comfortably back against a tree as you sit across from him, simultaneously taking notes and answering each of his questions without pause.

“Ignatia Wildsmith. Ravenclaw. Come ‘ead James, I’ve told you to stop going easy on me! Every seventh-year applying will know all of these.” Bloody lucky I love her so much, James thinks to himself, I thought that was a hard one.

He’d like to laugh your nerves away, crack a few jokes and tell you that you may be going a bit overboard. You’re going to get the internship, and not just because you’re brilliant and perfectly qualified, but also because your Herbology professor had written a glowing recommendation letter singing your praises.

But he can’t find it in himself to mess around when you’ve got that adorable little wrinkle between your eyebrows displaying your worry, and your lips have turned down into a delectably kissable pout. It takes nearly everything in him not to brush it away with his own lips.

“(y/n),” He starts, wetting his lips with his tongue as he desperately attempts to keep his thoughts from overtaking his voice, “It’s going to be alright, I promise. You’re more than ready for this. Why don’t we try taking a little break?” His heart feels as though it’s leapt into his throat when you glance at him and send a delicate smile of gratitude.

“I’m sorry, Jamie. We’ve been at this for hours, you must be exhausted of me by now.” You smile, more cheerful this time as you realize a break is precisely what you need.

James can’t contain the laugh that escapes him.

Exhausted? Of you?

The absurdity of thinking he could ever grow tired of you was an inherently laughable concept to him.

He’s nearly clutching his stomach when he finally manages to compose himself, making heart-stopping eye contact with his equally amused and puzzled best friend.

“Are you mad?” James’ dimpled smile sets a kaleidoscope of butterflies aflutter in your stomach, “I’d spend all my hours with you if I could.” He means it with every atom that makes up his being, he’s meant it for years but now he’s actually saying it to you.

Your smile grows wider with each word he speaks, your own thoughts matching the underlying sentiment of his articulation more than he could ever know.

“I-” He pauses, inhaling deeply and squeezing his eyes shut tightly in an effort to maintain his courage, “I love you.” You did it, he thinks to himself proudly, you actually bloody did it, Prongs! He exhales shakily, reinitiating eye contact with you as a small smile begins to blossom on his tender lips.

“James,” Your voice holds an underlying tone of sadness that causes an adorable crinkle of confusion to settle between James’ eyebrows, “I love you too.” You smile tightly, almost as though it’s causing you discomfort to do so.

“You do?” James is more perplexed now than he had been when you’d explained to him in painstaking detail the intricate relationships between each member of Fleetwood Mac the first time the two of you listened to Rumours together.

“Of course I do,” Your smile stretches intimately, the somber quality of your voice never wavering, “You’re my best mate, after all.”

Best mate? James thinks, is that really all she sees?

Had he not been so caught up in his own racing thoughts, he may have picked up on yours. He may have realized that his situation was holding a gargantuan mirror up to your own, casting a perfect reflection of the feelings within.

Best mates, you internally chastise yourself, that’s all he sees.

A proper bloody mirror.

“It was completely humiliating, Pads. She might as well’ve called me her bloody brother.” James has been yammering on about what happened that day for the past three weeks. Three weeks. Sirius is going positively mad, somehow having become James’ sounding board to rehash his complaints every time he remembers the encounter.

“I mean, how am I supposed to tell the girl I’d like to spend the rest of my life with her now?” James is pacing back and forth agitatedly at the foot of Sirius’ bed, as the aforementioned boy lays back uninterestedly, wishing his duvet would come to life and swallow him whole in an effort to escape the worlds most redundant conversation.

“She’d probably tell you that sounds lovely. Make you her future child’s godparent.” Sirius jokes dryly.

James abandons his invisible footpath, a wave of panic comically widening his warm hazel eyes substantially.

“She what?”

“For Merlin’s sake, Prongs! I can’t take any more of this,” Sirius sits up agitatedly, now far beyond his capacity for James’ lovesick commentaries, “Just go tell her. Right now.”

“Are you mad? Have you not just heard everything I’ve said?” James would normally find humour in Sirius’ lackadaisical attitude, but confessing his feelings for you was an entirely serious matter with no margin for error.

“Oh I’ve heard it, Prongs. For the past three weeks. And the entire bloody summer. And every single year before that.” He moves to stand in front of James, his agitation fading into sincerity, “I know how you feel, Prongs. But does she?” James swallows thickly as Sirius continues, “I don’t mean just telling her you love her, I mean telling her how you love her. As more than a friend. Maybe she feels the same way.”

James takes his time considering Sirius’ words. He’s tried to tell you, clearly, but he assumed that you’d only seen him as a friend. But what if you hadn’t? What if Sirius is right, and you told him you loved him as a friend because you’d assumed that’s what he’d meant when he said it?

“I’m a proper git, aren’t I?” James concludes aloud.

“Most certainly, Prongsy. It’s why I keep you around,” Sirius’ playful mood returns swiftly, “Makes me feel better about myself.”

You’re talking softly with Remus in the library, voices low enough not to disrupt your peers but just detectable enough for James to catch your words when he finds you, internally preparing his declaration of unwavering devotion for you.

“You’re not going out with him, are you?” Remus’ hushed voice holds a curious tone.

“Of course not, Rem.” You smile softly, “Could you honestly imagine that? Him and I dating?”

James’ eyebrows furrow together in confusion, he presses himself slightly against a nearby bookshelf in an attempt to hear your conversation more clearly.

“No, I guess not,” Remus chuckles faintly, “It would certainly make things awkward if they didn’t work out. Being friends and all.”

“No kidding.” You chuckle good-naturedly.

James feels like a bag of cement has been poured down his throat, constricting his lungs and settling into a block of concrete in the pit of his stomach.

Sirius had been wrong. You didn’t love James as more than a friend, in fact, you’d practically laughed at the thought of it. In his hasty escape from the scene of the melancholic crime, James neglected to hear the rest of your conversation with Remus.

“He’s a lovely lad, truly,” You smile genuinely, “Any girl would be lucky to call Amos Diggory her boyfriend. We’re just better as friends is all.” You trail off, leaving out the part where your heart already belongs to another shared friend of yours and Remus’.

It’s not like it was ever going to happen anyway. Your love for James Potter was entirely unreciprocated.

Wasn’t it?

James is avoiding you.

As painful as it is to spend each never-ending moment of spare time away from you, James can only think of how much more agonizing it would be to spend those moments with you.

To fix his loving gaze on your sparkling eyes, only to find them filled with affections one would hold only for a friend.

To accomplish the feat of bringing a luminous smile to your delicate lips, only to remember those lips would never brush tenderly against his own.

To be so close to the girl he loves, only to be denied her heart in equal measure.

It’s easier, in a sense, to push you away.

It’s only temporary, just until he can stomach the thought of spending the rest of his life as your best mate and nothing more.

But it’s been weeks, and the idea still makes his head feel like it’s underwater, like he’s fighting to reach the surface but his leg’s been caught on a viciously determined blade of seaweed.

Still, he’s convinced himself that this is his best course of action.

Unbeknownst to James, however, you’ve been going stark raving mad.

You’ve hardly spoken to him in weeks. When you think about it, you’ve barely even seen him, save for a few quick glimpses in your classes and across the dining tables in the Great Hall.

You’ve tried to talk to him, clearly something is bothering him. Maybe you’ve said or done something to upset him without realizing it. But he’d brushed you off before you could even get out the words ‘are you alright?’

You’d asked Remus, Sirius, and Peter about it, each of them giving you vague semblances of justification that fell entirely flat, a few “He’s just busy with quidditch”s and a couple of “Must be studying today”s. You’ve grown tired of the excuses and you’re determined to get to the bottom of it yourself.

You’re leaning picturesquely against the wall outside of the lad’s changing room when James finally sees you again. His curly hair is spilling droplets of water from the shower he’s just taken, successfully washing away the evidence of his quidditch practice.

You’re beautiful. That’s all he can think as he finally allows himself to take you in fully for the first time in weeks. He feels like he’s been holding his breath since he saw you last and now he can finally exhale, a sense of euphoria filling his chest as his lungs deflate mercifully.

“Hi.” You state gently, a delicate smile painted daintily across your lips.

“Hi.” James echoes once he’s relearned the inhale-exhale repetition of breathing again.

“I waited for you,” You start after a brief silence, “Which- You can see that, obviously.” You chuckle a ebullient breath that causes a small smile to form on James’ face, Merlin, I’ve missed that, he thinks as you continue. “I just, um- I thought maybe we could talk?” You’re fiddling with your fingers, a nervous habit of yours that James has long since memorized by now.

He instantly reaches for your hands, tenderly taking one in his own and carefully intertwining your fingers together with his. The action is like second nature, he hardly thinks twice about it.

You smile visibly at the act of comfort, if he’s upset with you and that’s the reason he’s been avoiding you, it makes your heart skip a beat that he’s putting it all aside to calm you down when you’re anxious.

“About what?” He tries, though you both know that’s not going to work.

“Nice,” You smile teasingly, “Want to give it a real go this time?”

James swallows something akin to a lump in his throat, averting his resplendent hazel gaze from your eyes to land somewhere along the floor as he overthinks which approach he should take.

He could try honesty. Yes, he thinks, because that would go over proper well. I’m avoiding you cause I’ve been gutted since I heard you’re not in love with me. Surely she’ll find that real mature, Prongs.

He could also try lying his arse off. And that would work, he sarcastically chastises silently, Me? Oh nothing’s wrong at all. Just tired, y’know? Practice and homework and the like. As if she’s ever believed a lie you’ve told her before.

He finally chances resuming eye contact with you, heartbeat hastening expeditiously as his hazel orbs lock onto your patently awaiting eyes. You should be looking far more frustrated, James wouldn’t blame you if you were. You have every right to be upset, and yet you’re not.

Instead, you’re you.

You, who’s calmly awaiting a response, fingers still gently intertwined with James’.

You, who’s looking at him with soft, sparkling eyes, eyes that are silently promising him no matter what he says, everything is going to be alright.

You, the girl he loves more than anything in the world.

“You.” He states after an implicit eternity.

“Me?” Your features mix together to create a perfectly darling display of confusion that, even despite the circumstances, causes a modest smile to tug upwards at the corners of James’ mouth.

“I’ve been avoiding you.” He conveys, sounding as though he’s just revealed to you a hidden secret you’d’ve never otherwise been able to uncover.

You can’t contain the short laugh that escapes you, a smile taking its rightful place on your face. “Yeah, ‘m not exactly Sherlock Holmes, but I managed to put that one together.”

James can’t subdue the traces of guilt that seep onto his face.

“I was hoping maybe we could talk about why. If I’ve done something to upset you-”

“No!” James cuts you off, “No, love, you haven’t done anything. Nothing you could control anyway.” His voice is less than half of its usual volume at the last sentence he utters.

Your face is back to holding that adorably confused expression that James so desperately yearns to kiss away.

“I have to admit, Jamie, I’ve got no idea what you’re on about.”

James sighs, finally releasing the hand that’s been holding comfortably on to your own and running it through his leisurely drying hair. He releases a sigh of distress and squeezes his eyes shut firmly in an attempt to figure out the best way to explain himself.

“If you’re not upset with me, then why have you been avoiding me?” You’re trying to put it together on your own as James is proving to be no help, “Wait a mo! Is this some kind of prank or something?” You smile, though you’re not entirely certain you’re correct yet, “Are you trying to get back at me for dying your knickers pink? Because that was an accident!”

James can’t help but smile at your incorrect deduction. Merlin she’s adorable he thinks, how am I supposed to tell her now?

“Yes!” James concludes untruthfully, “You got me. Just a prank. Might’ve gone a bit too far with it though. Sorry ‘bout that, love.”

He brings you into a hug and, after going weeks without it, it feels like home.

You feel like home.

You’re hugging James, after having just gone weeks without it. And you just know.

You have to tell him.

You have to tell him, right now, that you’re in love with him.

And so you do.

“I love you.” You state breathlessly, pulling away from the warm solace of his embrace and looking bravely into his glimmering hazel eyes.

James nods his head mechanically, as if he’s agreeing to your suggestion on what to have for dinner and not taking in the confession of eternal love you’ve just spouted.

“Yes, I love you too,” He smiles a tight, strained smile, “Mate.” He punctuates his final word by bumping his fist gently into your shoulder.

Oh, you think, I’m going to have to spell it out for him, aren’t I?

“No, James. I love you,” You take a step closer to him, not breaking eye contact despite the nerves that are jostling around your insides like a violent sea in a raging storm, taking a deep breath before exhaling somewhat expeditiously, you continue, “Like- Like, I’m in love with you.”

The first thing James feels in that moment are his eyes widening emphatically behind his round-rimmed glasses, his dark lashes making direct contact with the top of his eyelids. He’s certain he must have heard you wrong, that or he’s understood you wrong.

The second thing he feels is hope. What if he hadn’t understood you wrong?

The third thing he feels is his heart, beating faster than it ever has before, so fast he thinks it might be ready to do him in for good. Surely a heart shouldn’t be beating that fast.

“You’re in love? With me?” James speaks disbelievingly, though he’s unable to hide the traces of optimism he’s feeling as a modest smile begins to form on his face.

You nod your head assuredly, a genial smile of your own starting at the sight of his, “Yes, I’m in love with you. Madly, in fact.”

You’ve spent months, years even, deliberating on how you would tell James, if you would tell James. You’d spent countless hours wondering how he would react and what would happen after all was said and done.

You’d planned to tell him all about that. About how long you’ve felt this way, when it started and why it’s taken you so long to tell him, how you were too afraid of risking your best friend should anything have gone wrong.

What you hadn’t planned on was what happened the second you got the last word out.

James eagerly presses his plush lips onto your own, savouring the long overdue sensation of your mouth against his. He tenderly brushes your bottom lip with his tongue once he feels you respond to the kiss with equal fervour. Enthusiastically, you grant his tongue access into your mouth, pulling him closer to you by the roots of his damp hair.

James lets out a low groan at the contact, pulling you flush against his body by your waist, his hands hungrily gripping onto you for dear life as, somehow, the kiss deepens even further.

When the need for oxygen outweighs your mutual need for each others lips, you reluctantly part the slightest of distances, foreheads resting tenderly against one another.

“I’m in love you too. So bloody madly.” James whispers contentedly with a lovesick grin.

You’re each donning smiles brighter than you can ever recall before.

The moment you’ve caught your breath you’re back at it again in full force, gripping at each others clothes and tangling nimble fingers through the other’s hair. James pulls back when your beaming smile makes it a little harder for him to kiss you, returning a smile just as wide that compels you to pull him back in for another kiss, or two, or three.

When the two of you finally feel satiated enough, James pulls back again, a noticeably farther distance. He’s still smiling but it isn’t quite as bright as it was a moment ago.

“What was all that about in the library, then? With Moony?” He asks you the question that’s been clawing at his insides for the last few weeks.

You pause, visibly confused as you shuffle through the files of your memories until you land on one a few weeks ago with Remus in the library. The two of you were discussing a friend who’d asked you on a date. You’d declined as politely as you could, valuing his friendship but knowing your heart had long since been beating for James.

“What about it?” You smile confusedly.

“Well, you were talking about me, weren’t you?” James looks down to the floor, expression now almost devoid of the happiness that had previously overtaken every inch of his face.

“What?” You laugh briefly before it registers, not just his words, but the reason he’s been avoiding you for the last few weeks.

“Wait- James!” You tilt your head into his line of vision, gently cradling his face with your hand as you turn his head to face you fully, “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? You thought.. Oh, Merlin.”

You pull him into a hug, holding him tight enough to convey just how wrong he’s been.

“I was talking about Amos Diggory.” You state with a gentle exhale, something between a laugh and a sigh, pulling back you rest your arms at your sides. “He asked me to dinner.”

James doesn’t hide the relief that courses through his body, despite the slight scoff of jealousy he lets out at your final sentence.

“But,” You wrap your arms back around him in reassurance, looking up into his eyes that are once again sparkling with happiness, “I’ve been a tad busy, being in love with my best friend and all. So I told him no. Obviously.”

“Right, obviously.” James replies with a cheeky smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“You’re a git, you know.” You roll your eyes, the action a mixture of lovesickness and frustration. “You could’ve just asked me then. Instead of hiding in the books like a proper stalker. And then avoiding me. For weeks,” You’re smiling, but you know you’re still getting your point across, “You git.” You punctuate your final word with a gentle swat to James’ chest, smiling adoringly when he grabs that hand and brings it up to his lips, placing a tender kiss to it before dropping your intertwined hands back at your side.

“I know,” He admits apologetically, “I’m sorry.” He’s smiling breathtakingly, “Still love me?”

You can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him, because in some roundabout way, it’s what led you to this moment right now, where you can reach over and kiss him if you want to.

And you want to.

Pulling him into you by the fabric of his shirt, you plant another kiss upon James’ lips. The passion and tenderness in the kiss meld together just as perfectly as your lips do.

“Yes.” You mumble happily when your mouths finally break apart. “Always.”

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firewhiskykiss · 11 months

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I’VE GOT MY EYE ON YOU | DM / YOU

draco’s eyes have been following you everywhere, even to the prefects bathroom. requested by @dolcid <3

a/n • this was so much fun to write. i didn’t know what genre i wanted this to be so it’s a mashup of everything!!!! and all of my current ideas. i could’ve made this sm longer but i decided to keep it short.

theme • angst, fluff, sexual allusions but no explicit smut.

warnings • bullying, nobody likes you, you’ve got no friends, nonconsensual sexual advances, some sexual content, complicated feelings, rejection, angsty stuff, kissy stuff, etc.

word count • 4.8k

petulant. that is how you would describe draco malfoy. not that anyone would bother asking for your opinion. you were of the firm belief that bullies never wholeheartedly meant anything they said, that it usually came from a place of unresolved insecurity. draco malfoy was that sort of bully - the annoying, insincere sort, that probably only did it for some corrupt form of entertainment or to compensate for his dreadful hair. but his style was nevertheless cruel. he had an aptitude for humiliation and throwing insulting pieces of parchment at the back of your head during lessons. he loathed the sight of you. your brother, harry, was not much above malfoy’s bullying, and silently enabled every vile remark that the blonde boy threw at you. despite the unremitting teasing, you noticed that your brother appeared to have lost his tongue every time he bore witness to these events, and failed to stick up for you, despite your own fierce loyalty towards him.

you and harry and been bought up similarly, but in your first year at hogwarts together it transpired that harry was much less affected by the dursley’s abuse than you were. he became a brilliant, albeit cocky, boy with lots of friends and you seemed to drift in the opposite direction. by the time the second year of school had come around, you had no friends and had been thoroughly ostracised by your own twin and his two best friends. it made no difference that you and harry shared the same blood, it was irrelevant to almost every student and teacher in the school with the exception of luna lovegood, a girl who was as equally rejected as you were. you had to admit, even you found her a bit excentric sometimes, but she had a heart of gold and you couldn’t fault her.

it wasn’t uncommon for unkind students to play pranks on the both of you. once, you had found a pair of your shoes tied to the branches of the whomping willow. you would have loved to say that you were brave enough to retrieve them but you and luna had consecutively agreed that your lives were not worth a pair of scruffy, canvas pumps.

today, you had defence against the dark arts with professor snape. you’d learned to expect teasing and paid no heed to it, treating it as indifferent to the rest of your daily routine. you heaved your book up onto the desk and mindlessly inked the date onto your parchment. the fact that malfoy was yet to start flicking black ink at your school shirt was almost concerning, so you mustered up the confidence to glance at him over your shoulder. although you weren’t able to make out his snide remark, it wasn’t hard to infer the nature of his words because his face was screwed up with disgust, as if he’d just sniffed something foul. he usually looked at you like this when he was saying something callous.

as the gaunt teacher strode down the aisle of desks, he jabbed at the fact that your last piece of homework had been smeared with an unrecognised green substance. that had been the fault of malfoy’s goons, you recalled.

“ten points from ravenclaw.” you could have sworn the professor had nearly been snarling at you when he returned your assignment by slapping it onto the desk infront of you.

subdued by his harsh glare, you sunk into your seat hoping it would be enough to hide you from the sniggers of your classmates or, more severely, hoping that you would disappear.

malfoy arrogantly hollered, “nothing new with y/l/n, sir, she’s completely useless.”

“as much as i regret to divulge the truth…” snape droned on, “it seems you leave me no choice but to agree with my pupil, miss y/l/n. i must implore greater care from you next time.”

with a weak smile you looked up at your teacher and apologised, ignoring the eyes that bore anonymously into the back of your head. they were malfoy’s, but you were preoccupying yourself with the wall.

malfoy was an expert in his field. at some point he had gone from being an annoying little boy who only picked on you for your slovenly, second-hand uniform, to becoming one of your greatest anxieties, howbeit intelligent and even better at avoiding reprecussions. at the same time as malfoy had transcended this level, you noticed that he’d also started to outgrow the puppy-fat around his face, broaden around the shoulders and get increasingly taller. dare you say, he was becoming quite handsome. this wasn’t something you conciously thought about, you were too busy removing the hexes from your possessions before bed every night.

his goons, crabbe and goyle, marvelled the ground he walked on, to make matters worse. suppose malfoy didn’t show up for a lesson, you could unfortunately rely on crabbe and goyle to ravage your mood instead.

malfoy enjoyed having you on ropes, his victories came as a breath of fresh air because he was so used to overconfident gryffindors standing their ground. you were easy to break, not that he got any sadistic pleasure from ruining your day. the rationale behind it was that teasing you bore resemblence to a sort of callow game, it was a childish delight. at a push he found it cute when you reddened with embarrassment when he teased you. guilt was only small component of the game, he scarcely felt it. he might’ve felt remorse if he’d ever seen the tears in your eyes, but you never gave him the satisfaction.

you felt something suddenly bounce off of your head and land on your desk, it was a note. the hand it had come from was disciplined, their writing was neat however there wasn’t alot of it, instead an animated portrait of you being dangled in the air by the branches of the whomping willow tenanted most of the space. you furrowed your eyebrows.

“who…”

“surprised you don’t recognise my handwriting by now.” quipped a familiar voice. you shuddered. “never been one to pay attention though have you, y/n? i think that’s why you’re failing most of your classes.”

he wasn’t wrong. but it would be a whole lot easier if you weren’t subject to constant abuse.

“actually-” you began, prompting malfoy’s lips to curl into an unpleasant smirk. he cut you off before you could thoroughly begin.

“maybe if you weren’t so busy concerning yourself with that lunatic friend, you’d have room for school in that tiny brain of yours.” malfoy didn’t care who else he brought down in the process of taunting you. “or is it - remind me, what are they called again? the wrackspurts? total nonsense.”

despite the scorn in his voice, you detected something soft behind his eyes. everything about his expression mocked you, except for the eyes which studied you, to the point that he almost looked fascinated on the contrary to his angry eyebrows. his eyes followed your hand down to the piece of parchment and watched as you tucked it into your pocket.

strange. he thought. he’d expected you to throw it away, but instead you’d kept it on your persons like a souvenir of his cruelty.

in the strictest of confidence, he thought it was cute.

he thought you were cute.

the following day, you had care of magical creatures. you pursued a winding path that was swallowed by the forest on the way to your lesson. the grounds were impeccably preserved. you had always found yourself mesmerised by the school’s unworldly beauty: the dulcet choir of birds in the morning; the unflinching snowdrops; hagrid’s mountain of brilliant, orange pumpkins; the pine trees that shed their needles across the underwood. you were nature’s undeclared admirer.

you had learned to quickly tame your school book this year, by stroking along the binding as if to comfort it, but your fellow classmates were slower to this realisation, which made for a very messy walk to lesson. neville’s book wrestled him to the ground and tore at his uniform, by the time you had all formed a circle around hagrid, neville had been dismissed in order to find a new set of robes because his lay in shreds on the forest floor.

“wouldn’t do you much harm, y/l/n”, malfoy chorused, “weren’t you saying that you needed new uniform?” he said, gesturing to your faded cloak. the soles of your shoes were also coming apart.

“just leave it, malfoy.” you sighed defeatedly, clutching your book to your stomach.

“i’m quite good at fixing shoes, i learned a few things from the cobbler in diagon alley”, he started, lowering his wand to your feet.

to little effect, you began to step back, the other students paying more attention now to malfoy than they were the lesson.

“taranallegra!” he thurst a cloud of purple smoke at your feet, and stepped back to admire his work.

your legs soon become restless, you were hopping from one side to the other, until you were involuntarily dancing infront of the entire class. it wasn’t something you could resist, if you’d strained any harder your legs might have snapped in two. it took hagrid few strides to reach malfoy because of his huge legs. then, the teacher grabbed the boy by the scruff of his collar and growled.

“you undo thats now or i’ll ‘ave yer sent up to dumbledore this instant!”

hagrid’s narrowed eyes pressured malfoy into searching desperately for his wand, but the boy wasn’t successful. whilst you jigged uncomfortably, a small mound of black fur hurried to your side, it was a creature you had been studying as part of your elective, an innocently disposed niffler, whose small paw was wrapped mischievously around malfoy’s wand. the slytherin gulped and the niffler looked up at you with a pair of sinless eyes, they twinkled. if creatures could smile, the niffler would have been smiling. it tapped your shoes, sweetly ending the jig, and scampered behind your legs to where it hid from malfoy’s long, condemning finger that pointed straight at it.

“professor, that thing has stolen my wand!”

“oh shurrup, yer slimey toad.” hagrid groaned and released malfoy’s collar with some force.

the teacher winked at you kindly as he picked the niffler up with two hands, like a small puppy, and pulled malfoy’s wand from it’s grip.

it was difficult to say who had been more embarrassed.

“you’ll pay for that, you pathetic halfblood.” draco sneered, snatching his wand back from hagrid without thanks. his two goons crossed their arms threateningly over their chests and smirked. they were like puppets - funny looking ones with protruding features and round tummies. at this, you laughed and turned your back on malfoy for the rest of the lesson leaving him to stare at the back of your head with a heavy chest.

he felt he’d gone too far. he wasn’t sure why. but that didn’t dissuade him from ensnaring the tree roots around your feet with a dark charm to wind themselves around your ankles.

“MR MALFOY!” bellowed the giant teacher. the niffler ran up to malfoy and mounted his leg, attempting to bite him with it’s blunt teeth. you would’ve found it funny if you weren’t bound to the forest floor. in typical fashion, harry undid the hex - ONLY because he hated malfoy just as much as you did.

actually, you weren’t sure if you hated him. you just hated that he hated you.

weeks had passed now. the sad smile you cast towards hagrid at the end of the lesson was the denouement of malfoy’s bullying. in the weeks that followed, he’d been battling an unfamiliar feeling of guilt. it was foreign to you as well, but you’d been feeling, noticeably, lighter and draco had been observing your newfound happiness.

it was fine. it didn’t bother him. not one bit. he spent most of his time convincing himself that he didn’t miss your… altercations. perhaps he meant interactions? he certainly couldn’t besmirch himself by apologising, that was too far. so he had to ignore you.

until one evening he found his goons picking on you in the library.

you had taken up harry’s reluctant offer to study with him and ron in the library, ron hated the idea, but harry had learned to tolerate you ever since malfoy had stopped ridiculing you. truthfully, you were less of an embarrassment to him this way.

you had left your desk to find the book that you needed, when a cold hand prevented you from pulling out of the shelf.

“whatchu need that for, ay?” you recognised crabbe’s uneducated accent.

“just studying…” you hadn’t missed this. the constant apprehension. perhaps you’d let your guard down too much, you’d stopped excepting it. knowing your luck, malfoy would probably appear soon and start being cruel in some way or another, and crabbe prolonged the minutes by staring down at your cowering figure.

goyle was stood there too, lethargically pressed up against the bookshelf opposite you.

“what should we do with you? draco’d kill us if he thought we were here-“

“-taking the liberty to annoy you ourselves.”

they completed eachother’s sentences like twins.

“bet your brother’s glad to be shot of you for a few-“

“but we could do him a favour and make it a lot longer if you’d like us to.” goyle teased while crabbes hand made it’s way through the folds of your robe.

“no, i don’t think that’s-“ you tried, but crabbed pressed a fat finger against your lips to silence you. you knew that any attempt to escape them would be done in vain, they would have already planned ways to stop you. goyle dipped his chubby mitts into your pocket and took your wand, tucking it into his back pocket. nifflers were an unlikely occurrence in the library. all of your options were exhausted.

“no, please-“ as crabbe’s hand rode up your thigh, goyle went suddenly rigid and slumped onto the floor, your wand rolling out of his pocket onto the stone slabs.

“patrificus totalus!” you’d closed your eyes expecting to be the victim of another immature prank, but you mistaken. the anonymous wizard had missed and the spell rebounded off of the bookshelf, causing crabbe to retreat into his neck fat and turn around.

“malfoy?!” you choked, surprised. he looked at you but he didn’t acknowledge you, in the same way that he picked up your wand and shoved it abruptly into your chest, but refused to say a word.

instead, he gritted at crabbe and poked his wand viciously into the folds of his skin.

“the bloody hell do you think you’re playing at?” at the same time, he kicked goyle’s pleading hand away from him and grimaced at the lump on the floor. “consider yourself lucky, the pair of you.” he threatened, taking crabbe by the collar and tossing him down to the ground .

“pathetic.”

you must’ve accrued some sort of respect from malfoy after the incident with the niffler.

the look that crossed malfoy’s face was not explicitly guilty - until your eyes began to well with tears. after everything, you’d hoped to be immune to everybody’s incessant wickedness but it had somehow come to this. scooping up the book you’d been after, you brushed past the slytherin, whose mouth had fallen open to say something but failed him.

over the days that ensued, you were left to ruminate as to why he’d bothered sticking up for you at all. draco malfoy hated you. there was no means of distracting you from these thoughts, especially now it was the holidays and luna had gone back to spend it with her father.

you were one of few students that stayed at school during the holidays. you and harry. malfoy’s father had insisted he spend his spring break at hogwarts to focus on his studies, he was keen for his son to make a success of himself, if only he knew about his extracurricular activities. in some ways, you preferred it when the other students left to see their families, but your biggest headache still sat across from you at all meal times.

you noticed that draco’s eyes had become less hostile, more watchful and there was no distracting you from that, either. every time you looked up from your plate, his chin was connected to his palm in a manner of deep, undisrupted thought.

his blue eyes followed you through abandoned corridors, up enchanted staircases, though his feet maintained a fixed position.

silly, conflicted draco.

he was beginning to feel things that he wasn’t used to, that provoked him to behave strangely. if you ever confronted him about his actions, he’d justify them by saying that he was simply protecting you, because you were truly incapable of protecting yourself, supposing that no one had slipped veritaserum into his morning pumpkin juice.

malfoy was on his way back to the slytherin common room after quidditch practice, when he’d noticed the sound of footsteps in suspiciously empty cloisters. darkness had stolen the day. it was cold. he whispered “lumos” to his wand, and followed the fading noise. he was also unconsciously trailing after a familiar scent - something that echoed honeysuckle. meanwhile, you were unaware that malfoy was skulking behind you.

you’d borrowed harry’s invisibility cloak to slip into to the prefect’s bathroom late at night. you unlocked the door and hung harry’s cloak on one of the many hooks. when malfoy realised what he’d gotten himself into, he held his breath. he immediately felt like a complete pervert. not only was he unaware that it you was you hidden beneath the cloak, he’d also been unaware that this was the prefects bathroom until he got himself locked inside.

you began to shed your layers, your tired robes of the day, your figure appearing to draco in the moonlight. the moon kissed your skin shamelessly through the stained glass, draco tried to keep his eyes trained on the floor, but your body was an invitation to a temple he’d yet to worship.

just as you submerged yourself in the bubbles, he stepped forward, clearing his throat. he’d since put his light out and dropped his wand on the floor, leaving little light to highlight his features. the looks you gave eachother were a surprisingly comfortable exchange, you felt fine so long as the bubbles covered everything that made you shy.

“i didn’t realise you were following me, draco.” you whispered gently, pulling the bubbles into your breasts, careful not to melt them with the water dripping off of your hands.

“nor did i.” he chuckled breathlessly, eyes blown wide with fascination.

neither of you had yet noticed the snow falling softly from the ceiling, it melted too quickly in the water, for draco’s magic was attuned his feelings of guilt. this also spurred feelings of sadness, hopelessness and desperation - he desperately wanted to be forgiven. around the bath grew tiny, white posies of mistletoe that also harmonised with his feelings. but these feelings were of a different nature, but he lacked the adequate vocabulary.

everything that had been repressed was surfacing in the bathroom.

“why are you here, draco?”

“i’m sorry, it was an accident, i should be goin-“

you extended an arm out of the bubbles and grabbed his ankle.

“but i haven’t said thank you yet.”

“for what?”

“for sticking up for me.”

malfoy stiffened and shrugged, his back still to you. if he looked at you for any longer, he’d turn the bathroom into a garden.

“yeah well, i don’t mind a prank. but they took it too far. i don’t like you any more, i don’t hate you any less.” he lied, causing the flowers to suddenly wilt. you noticed and frowned, cupping your cheeks in contemplation whilst your elbows rested on the side of the bath. the snow from above delicately crowned your head.

you now bathed with an uncomfortable silence, draco couldn’t bare it any longer. he withstood all of his words, all of his beliefs, and turned around quickly, kneeling down and pulling you onto his lips by the face.

he moaned longingly, wetting your mouth with his kiss. you returned the gesture with keen interest, using your arms to hoist yourself out of the water, although you were no longer hidden by the bubbles and your chest was flush against his quidditch uniform, making it wet. you were only far enough out of the water to reveal your top half, the bubbles still hugged your little waist, he loved it.

he pulled back quickly, shaking off his green uniform and leaving it in a careless heap on the floor to be soaked as he jumped into the water. draco was considerably bigger than you, however thinner. he swam to you, pulling your legs around his waist and snogged you up against the wall of the bath, blonde hair how damp and rugged-looking. he had kept his underwear on as courtesy, but it was clear you cared little for chivalry as you lips made their way down his neck.

“i’m sorry, y/n, it was supposed to be a game,” he breathed, slowing your endeavours, and pulled your focus up to his eyes by holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “got out of hand…”

despite all of the heat, and the fact that you requited the feelings inhabiting his cold heart, it wasn’t going to work out with draco the way you hoped it would. you weren’t pleased to submit yourself to a person like that. you deposited these feelings quietly in the water, in the hope they’d disappear down the drain along with all of the bubbles, and petals…

previous discrepancies between you and draco made you reluctant to kiss him any further, you even welcomed thoughts of hating draco, it would have been so much easier to let go of him that way. still, you loosened your grip on his hair and shook your head.

“it would be too foolish.”

he preciously rubbed your cheek with a thumb and disagreed, “then be a fool for me?”, innocently cocking up an eyebrow. he’d never felt so vulnerable, if you rejected him he’d have to drown himself or do something spectacularly awful, he thought.

then, he thought he couldn’t possibly be bargaining with you. he cringed slightly and pulled his hand back too. he had stripped to not only reveal the best of him, but all of the worst too. he considered remorse, and vulnerability to be a few of the worst qualities, that were redeemed by the big package in his underwear. it was childish, his way of thinking. you were accustomed to it.

it would have been nearly too easy to make draco malfoy your friend, let alone your lover.

you were surprised that the sun hadn’t begun to dazzle you through the stained glass mermaid. what felt like epochs, transpired to be 2 hours after you’d returned to your dormitory in a fluffy robe and slippers. that night, despite how tired you felt, you couldn’t sleep soundly with draco malfoy’s kiss weighing on your conscience. and the fact that you’d rejected him.

when the term resumed, you expected your kiss with malfoy to have been forgotten about. rather than teasing you for your tatty uniform, he instead discovered ways to flirt with you to an insufferable extent, they worsened day to day. it was his revenge. because you challenged his disposition. because you lead him astray. because you seduced him with that perfect, perfect body of yours. because you forced him to admit that he didn’t hate you at all. because you -

you.

it was all your fault.

despite however much you pretended to hate him, you couldn’t deny the ghost of his hands nor the way they’d pawed at your breasts and loved you. yearning for him seemed to consume you more than hating him, but deliberately nosey glances from your brother made it difficult to reciprocate anything out-loud during lessons.

one day, he’d leaned over to “borrow your textbook” in potions, his cool breath making contact with your ear as he muttered a sly “thank you” to which you valiantly fought him off with an elbow and snatched the book out of his hands.

you craved him. and bickering with him was but a lame excuse to touch him, because it looked strange any other way. so you both unrelentingly fought the other. you hit his arm, you elbowed him as much as you had to if it meant you could feel close to draco malfoy. because loving him was not an option.

at night it wasn’t your heart, but your pussy that needed him, for so many consecutive nights you clutched your pillow to the warmth between your legs and rocked back and forth, wishing he was there.

perhaps it would be sufficient to fuck eachother and avoid the subject of love all together? you wondered this sometimes. you wondered about things like this when you shouldn’t have been, when you should have been paying attention to professor snape’s arrogant ramblings. perhaps you should try and forget about that night in the bathroom for good? move on? unlikely. these thoughts usually occurred to you in quick succession and overwhelmed you for the rest of the day.

it would’ve been an ordinarily overwhelming day if malfoy hadn’t seized you from within the alcove he’d been hiding it, and covered your mouth with his big hand.

“i must be going crazy, y/n.” he started angrily, “i haven’t thought about anything else.”

his eyes were crazed, his mind was demented, his heart was torn. you fiddled for your wand, even though you knew you wouldn’t need it, but he stopped you anyway and pinned your hands to the stone wall behind your head. he was gripping you so tightly, his knuckles had turned white.

you weren’t religious, but you’d mistaken draco for the devil. clearly, something had been tormenting him all day, he looked disturbed, and it was making you tremble.

“get off me you dog!” you whisper-shouted, above the sound of a party. you assumed slughorn must’ve been throwing one of his do’s, judging by the raucous music and the smell of alcohol lingering on malfoy’s breath. funny, he wasn’t usually invited to events like that.

his robes were smarter than usual. he was always well dressed but they weren’t embroidered with his house crest, and his tie wasn’t green, instead it was all black and stylish, his blonde hair combed neatly either side of a middle part.

“dog? dog?! you-“

“SHUT UP!” you shouted, because you couldn’t put your hand over his mouth.

“you can’t just kiss me the way you did, and expect to forget about it!” he seethed at you, burying his knee between your legs, making you gasp, “my heart talks about nothing else.”

“no one else.” he continued sincerely, silencing his heavy breaths against your forehead, but it was hardly a kiss.

“you must be drunk, draco.” you tried weakly, but in vain, because you were moaning when he kissed you for the second time in your short life.

“who’s the fool now?” he questioned, mumbling against your lips between short kisses, “you have been mine, the whole time i have known you. you never knew it.”

you had no fond memories at hogwarts besides those shared with draco. as he looked upon you with fierce eyes, you came to the uncanny realisation that your entire teenhood had revolved around him in some way or another, fate had been twistedly weaving you together. you hadn’t been intending to tie your soul to his every time you’d fought him off with a glare, or ruined the other’s day. every tear you shed was his, he owned every feeling you’d ever felt in human extremity, all of the smiles he’d watched from across the hall were contingent on his actions, and for too long he’d abused this power.

his hold on you relaxed and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for seconds. his tongue ravaged your pretty mouth, and licked yours. you knew what the kisses would lead to, if you carried on in such a way that had draco panting for breath and lowly whining when you denied him the chance to grind against your hips. your innocence was his, too, to bear and to deconstruct. he did just this, leading you on foot through the halls, before he grew impatient and threw you over his shoulder, handling you through the door of the slytherin common room and throwing you against the leather sofa.

he crawled ontop of you, discarding his black robes on the floor and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, exposing so much more than skin.

“don’t you ever try anything like that again,” he said furiously in reference to your attempt at denying all the obvious feelings you had, and wrapped his hand delicately around your throat.

“i’ve got my eye on you.”

#draco malfoy #draco x you #draco x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fic #draco angst #draco smut #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter fanfiction #slay!

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bettercallwillow · 1 year

Text

pairing: poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

summary: when you discover sirius hiding out in the shrieking shack, he and remus make sure you don’t say a word

warnings: dark!wolfstar, older!wolfstar, dub-con/cnc, smut, dom!remus, dom!sirius, rough sex, degrading, oral (m recieving), fingering, penetration, spitroasting

note: happy halloween! this is probably the darkest and filthiest thing i’ve written but i’ve been gone for a while so i might aswell come back with a bang. the ending is slightly rushed so i hope you don’t mind, enjoy!! (also if anybody’s confused about the plot, basically sirius actually did the crimes that he was accused of and remus is helping him while he’s on the run, so kinda deatheater!wolfstar)

Ever since you discovered the passageway that led from the whomping willow to the shrieking shack, you had been hiding out in the dilapidated building to escape the stress of your final exams. With some candlelight and a cozy blanket, it wasn’t half bad.

It had been a rather stressful day when you snook out to the tree, double potions with Snape was never fun. You had been looking forward to the peace and quiet, opting to bring a book with you to pass the time.

However, when you made it to the end of the passageway and pushed open the door, you were quite shocked when your eyes landed on two figures conversing in the middle of the room.

You didn’t recognise them at first. but when one of them lit a cigarette, the flame lit up their face and your eyes widened- it was Sirius Black. The escaped murderer.

A squeak left your mouth and his head turned to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips when he saw you, “Well, well,” he chuckled, “Look who just stumbled in, Moony,”

You were left in even more shock when the other figure turned to look at you, the scars running across his face making him immediately recognisable. It was Professor Lupin.

“What a pretty little plaything,” Remus spoke, snatching the cigarette from Sirius’ lips and taking a puff, “Why don’t you go fetch her, Pads? I want a closer look,”

You turned to leave, your heart pounding, but Sirius was too quick. His hand grabbed your wrist within seconds and he pulled you towards Lupin, his fingernails digging into your flesh slightly.

“Oh, yeah, I know this one,” Lupin looked you up and down, his pupils blown wide, “Smart little student, a slut too- always wearing her skirts short,”

“I can tell, I can practically see her ass,” Sirius landed a slap on your ass, making you yelp and tears form in your eyes.

“Please, let me go, I won’t tell anybody I saw you,” you whimpered, desperately trying to pull your arm from Sirius’ grasp.

The longer-haired man tutted, pulling you towards him so your back was pressed against his chest, “Now that won’t do, darling, we gotta make sure you don’t say a fucking word,”

“W-What are you gonna do to me?” you felt tears begin to fall down your cheeks and you were certain you were shaking now. You had always assumed Professor Lupin was nice, clearly it was an all act.

“I think we show you what happens when you walk around in those short fucking skirts,” Remus spat, standing up from his sitting position, “Think you can take two cocks, princess?”

“Please don’t,” you shook your head, grimacing when you felt Sirius’ hardening cock rub against your ass through his trousers.

“Stupid thing, you should know by now that you don’t have a choice,” Sirius chuckled. Then suddenly, he pushed on your back, forcing you into a position where your ass was stuck out.

You grabbed onto Remus’ legs for support, leaving your face planted directly in front of his already hard buldge, “Good slut, already know what you need to do,” he stroked your hair, a whimper leaving your lips.

Lupin moved his hands down to his belt, working on unbuckling it as Sirius’ hands groped your ass. As much as you hated to admit, you were getting turned on. In any other situation, you wouldn’t have thought twice about sleeping with Lupin.

“The slut’s getting wet,” Sirius noted the growing patch forming on your panties, a blush settling on your cheeks when he pointed it out. He dragged a tattooed hand against your clothed cunt and you let out a gasp, your hips instinctively leaning towards the touch.

Your body was betraying you, craving more friction as your clit began to throb. By now, Remus had pulled down his trousers to mid-thigh, along with his boxers, leaving his leaking cock just inches away from your face, “Well? You just gonna stare or are you gonna do what dumb whores like you are made to do?” he scoffed.

Your mouth fell open and he hummed in approval, taking his cock by the base in one hand and placing the tip on your tongue. The taste of pre-cum soaked into your tastebuds and you moaned, surprising everyone in the room.

“Oh does the slut like the taste of m’cock?” Remus grinned, wrapping a hand in your hair and pushing a few more inches of his length into your mouth. At the same time, Sirius pushed your panties to the side and plunged two fingers into your dripping hole, forcing a loud moan from your lungs.

The vibrations ran down Remus and he groaned, pushing all of his cock into your throat so your nose was brushing against the hairs on his pubic bone. “Fuck, she’s tight,” Sirius chimed, curling his fingers upward and hitting your sweet spot perfectly.

“M’surprised, you should hear some of the- fuck- rumours about her,” Remus chuckled, pulling out so just the tip of his cock was in before pushing back in, making you swallow around him to avoid gagging.

Sirius set a harsh pace with his fingers as Remus started to fuck your face, the lycanthrope’s grip on your hair tight as he rutted into you. You were a moaning mess due to Sirius, the cock in your mouth making you drool down your chin.

“She’s already fucked dumb,” Remus observed your face, his brows furrowed and his lips upturned in a slight smirk, “God knows how she’s gonna- fuck- take your cock soon,”

“I better hurry up then,” the longer-haired man pulled out his fingers and you let out a whine, only to earn a harsh smack on your ass, “Fucking whore, take what I give you,”

Within moments, Sirius had rid himself of his trousers and boxers, his cock making a soft slapping noise as it sprung up and hit his lower abdomen, “Can’t fucking wait to be buried in this cunt,” he groaned, stroking his erection as his eyes settled on your throbbing hole.

You mewled, deciding that resisting him would cause more trouble, and arched your back further. A sound of satisfaction rolled of the man’s tongue and he positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance, eager to fill you to the brim.

As Remus pushed his length into your mouth, Sirius did the same with your cunt, forcing a loud moan from you. It burnt as first, you hadn’t expected the longer-haired man to be so fucking big, but as time passed the pain turned into pure pleasure.

It wasn’t long before Sirius set a brutal pace, hard and fast, his thrusts matching those of Remus. It was overwhelming, the feeling of two cocks using your body as if you were nothing but a mere sextoy.

“Just as I said, so fucking tight,” Sirius moaned, his hands grabbing onto your hips hard enough that his fingernails left crescent-shaped marks on your skin, “When you’re done with her mouth, Moony, you gotta try this cunt,”

“You read my mind,” Remus grinned, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reached his high, “Fuck- m’gonna cum, fill your slutty throat with my seed,”

You were actually quite eager to taste him, all previous doubts thrown out of the window as the pleasure became too strong, so you did your best- suctioning your cheeks around his cock and trying your best to relax your throat.

Remus moaned loudly, pushing you down so his cock was lodged at the back of your throat as he came, ropes of seed shooting into your mouth. You moaned at the taste, immediately swallowing when the lycanthrope pulled out.

“Wow, you really a fucking whore, aren’t you?” Sirius chuckled, wrapping a hand in your hair and pulling you up so your back was pressed against his chest. With every snap of his hips, you felt like heaven, his cock managing to reach places inside you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Fuck, feels so good,” you mewled, pushing your hips back so you could feel him deeper.

“Yeah? You like it when Sirius wrecks your silly little guts?” Remus spoke, grabbing your chin in his hand and forcing you to look at him. You nodded, looking into his eyes with half-lidded ones, you mouth hung open in a constant moan.

“Words, slut,”

“Y-yeah,” you answered him, “I love it,”

Your body jolted as Sirius’ thrusts got harder, a familiar bubbling sensation settling in your lower abdomen, “M’close, please,”

“Wait for me, pup,” the animagus muttered in your ear, his grip on your waist getting tighter and he approached his own high. You nodded, screwing your eyes shut and biting your lip as you tried to your best to delay your orgasm.

“Good whore, doing what she’s told,” Remus praised you, stroking your cheek. You leant into his touch, moans and whimpers rolling off your tongue.

“Shit, gonna cum,” Sirius groaned, a hand reaching round to rub circles on your clit, “C’mon, pup, cum for me, soak my cock,”

You did as you were told, practically screaming in pleasure as you gushed around Sirius’ length, your cunt clenching tight, “Fuck!”

“Fucking hell, pup,” Sirius moaned, the feeling of your walls throbbing around his cock sent him over the edge and his hips stilled as he spilled inside you, filling you the brim with his cum.

A sigh left your mouth when he pulled out and you felt your knees wobble. If it wasn’t for both men holding you up, you would have fell to the floor, “Wow..”

“We’re not done yet, dove,” Remus chuckled, fisting at his already hard cock, “You gonna bend over nice and pretty for me and let me fill you up?”

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dracoxmalereader · 5 months

Text

Summer Sun

Draco x Male Reader

Context: A continuation of All at Once and Windowsill, but ofc you don't have to read those to read this. Reader is a ravenclaw a year above Draco. <3 And Draco can play the organ because I said so.

Summary: The train rides home on the last day of school always drag on endlessly. Unless, of course, you just so happen to be sharing a less than spacious cabin with the ravenclaw you're obsessed with like Draco is.

Word Count: 1107

The wheels of the Hogwarts Express rumbled steadily against the tracks, chugging along its monotonous route. The cars had long since fallen to relative quiet, chatter having died down in place of fatigue from a year well-attended. Most students present were either lazily gazing out a window at the familiar scenery or asleep altogether, well ready to snooze through the journey home.

Draco leaned against his hand, shifting his weight every so often to stave off the aches that came with sitting still. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy had gone silent, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts. He huffed, pushing himself out of his seat and mumbling some excuse about going to get air and trailing away through the cars of the train in hopes to ease his boredom.

He was clammy, the warmth and humidity of an approaching July seeping into the air. He tugged at the collar of his shirt in discomfort, damp skin tacky against the fabric. He mosied on, hoping to run into the snack cart or maybe even Potter and his posse to pick on. Instead, he stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of familiar hair through the heat-fogged window of one of the cabins.

The air caught in his throat. You looked as breathtaking as ever, book in hand as he found you usually were. He ducked into the doorway, hoping you wouldn’t comment on him sliding the door shut behind him. He slumped down onto the bench beside you, trying to ignore the racing of his pulse when you looked over at him in favor of acting as nonchalant as he could manage.

You were wearing casual clothes he’d never seen you in before, only having ever run into you during the school day. Something about the informality of it made Draco’s head spin, and he felt heat rising to his face as he imagined you looking as at-home and cozy in his family Manor. Suddenly the weather didn’t seem all that warm.

“Celebrating the end of the year alone?” The smile you gave him made his heart flutter. He was entirely too proud of himself for landing the joke, and he wanted nothing more than to make you laugh until your sides hurt.

“Hello to you, too, Draco.” Your eyes left him and returned to your book, still smiling. Draco was a professional at competing for attention, but right now he found the only competition that mattered was for yours, and he was not going to lose to a book.

“What are you reading?” He leaned into your space, and his lungs lurched up his throat when you leaned into his, tilting the pages towards him. So close together, Draco swore he could smell your clothes, boyish and earthy and so distinctly you he’d shell out hundreds of galleons on Amortentia to get more of it, to be engulfed in it.

“It’s for Herbology, I’m reading ahead so I can sleep through class next year.” How admirable, Draco thought to himself, a little flustered at the fantastical image of you as a class-cutting bad boy. You flipped to a page you’d already read, one with a picture. “This is the chapter about Whomping Willows.”

“Like the nutty tree behind the school?” Draco asked, even though he knew already. He just wanted you to keep talking.

You nodded, “Exactly.” You straightened in your seat, shimmying to get comfortable again. Draco’s throat ached at the loss of closeness.

“Violent thing, it is. Or so I’ve heard.” He made a point to sound open-ended, hoping you’d take it as a question rather than the statement it was.

“Yeah,” You took the bait, and Draco didn’t fail to notice how you didn’t turn back to the page you were reading. “Some idiot in the year above me flew right past it on his broom once, almost got knocked all the way to Hogsmeade.”

“What kind of oaf would go flying past the Whomping Willow?”

“Beats me,” You huff out a laugh. “Sounds like something that thickheaded Potter would get himself into.”

Draco’s stomach churned in jealousy at the mention of his scar-headed enemy. He rolled his eyes, deciding that Potter’s name was the only thing that didn’t sound good in your mouth. You closed your book, tossing it haphazardly to the bench on the opposite side of the cabin. Pulling your legs up, you tugged your knees to your chest, now facing Draco. His eyes met yours and he felt like his tongue had melted, response dying in his mouth.

“You would totally survive.” You blinked at him, smiling. Too focused on your eyelashes, he found that the object of conversation had slipped his mind entirely.

“Uh,” He choked out, lost in your unfaltering grin. “Survive what?”

“The Whomping Willow.”

He cleared his throat, embarrassment creeping up his face. “Oh, right.”

“You’re a great seeker,” You continued. “So I think you’d be fine if you flew past it.”

His veins thrummed at the praise. An unfamiliar feeling of bashfulness filled him. He felt the overwhelming urge to go to quidditch practice, his mind feeding him images of you cheering him on at a game.

He wanted to win every quidditch game for the rest of his time at Hogwarts just so you’d congratulate him, wanted to win the quidditch world cup and present the trophy to you as a courting gift.

“I’m only second best, you know.” He fought a smile, unable to feel sour at his words with you around. He hoped you’d say something nice about him to better it if he did, hoped you’d say something nice about him anyways. "After that thickheaded Potter."

“Second best is still on the podium. You’d probably be first if Dumbledork didn’t have the whole school giving Gryffindor special treatment, anyways.” In your eyes was a spark he couldn’t read, your expression even. Draco wanted to make you a Malfoy.

From the nickname you’d given Dumbledore to the backhanded Potter slander, Draco Malfoy had made up his mind that he wanted you to leave this train at his stop and come live in the Manor with him and his parents. He wanted to watch you play with his father’s peacocks, wanted to teach you to play the organ, wanted to show you off to his mother and show her how well he’d done for himself bringing you home to them.

He felt his ribs expand around the next shaky breath he took in, and he was thankful for the summer sun beating down over the sky so he had an excuse to be as red and clammy as he was sure he was.

I started this at like 2am and now it's 5:11 I hope this is good. TT

Draco is well worth ruining my sleep schedule. <3

It's his fault anyways, I had a dream that we were in bloxburg and he was in my room because Hatsune Miku was trying to kill him and he broke my bedframe kicking it. Why was he kicking my bedframe? I let him hide from Miku in my room, that ungrateful brat. I was so mad I woke up.

Tags: @gayaristocrat @nowayisthistakenyet @dracoshusband

#draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x male reader #draco x male reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #harry potter fandom #draco malfoy x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #tagging is hard

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ma1dita · 4 months

Text

truth be told

can be read as a standalone, but part one can be found here: liar, liar

this was a request! here

words: 3k

summary: After everything, only the truth remains. A continuation of your life with Sirius. Loosely follows the events of the books. Sirius Black x fem!reader

warnings: one use of y/n, ANGST guys if i cried writing this you will too, non-descript smut for the plot, ending open to interpretation, Sirius deserved a better life. star-crossed lovers strike again!

a/n: it has been months but i wanted to get this right. Saddest shit I’ve written in a while, hope you enjoy! Let’s rant about how the Blacks have the saddest character arcs…. And this has an open ending, tell me what you think happened!! Tunes attached at the end for your reading pleasure.

(posted: 12/18/23)

—

There’s always a proper explanation for drastic life changes. Surely, there’s a reason this keeps happening to you.

At the very least, this time around you feel as if you owe it to your dead friends. You’d never thought you’d be the one to outlive all of them, with how much the world has gone to spite you, but then, you heard about Harry Potter. It was never fair, the way he lost loved ones that you loved too. Perhaps it was sympathy or your ongoing savior complex, but 12 years gives you a lot of time to ponder past transgressions.

So when Remus sent you an urgent letter about Peter being found alive, arranging your international portkey to meet them at Hogwarts immediately was a no-brainer.

Professor Remus, who is so eloquent with words, just casually had to omit the fact that your ex was also back in the picture. And that he was the most wanted wizard in Britain. Truthfully, your life has been much quieter since him. There’s truth in these details…

Now, as you follow Severus Snape to the Shrieking Shack under the guise of catching your ex red-handed, something about this scene feels familiar.

The seed of doubt that was planted back then still lingers as a big and scary thing, all twisted and it rips open old scars for those involved. It makes you stop in your tracks at the entrance of the base of the Whomping Willow and you can't help but be struck by the thought of how much things have changed since that fateful night all those years ago. And yet, somehow, it is all the same.

A pang of guilt stabs at you. The night was supposed to be about catching the big bad Sirius Black, but you couldn't help but be reminded of how important he had been to you back then, and how you loved him. Love him. It was almost as if you were playing the part of the traitor rather than looking for one...

You’re 33 now, after all. What else could go wrong?

—

You hesitate outside the entryway, listening to voices from your past and present intermingle, and the thundering in your heart drowns out the sound of your heavy breathing. Godric, and they said Harry has his life threatened every year? Isn’t Hogwarts supposed to be the safest place on Earth?

As Severus raises his wand to attack Sirius, you step into the light and wordlessly stupefy your colleague, his body dropping to the floor like a bag of rocks. Multiple pairs of eyes meet, some in fear and confusion, but you are immediately drawn to him, his presence calling something within your soul as it did 12 years prior. Sirius Black, your lost love, all covered in grime and more suffering than man. He has that look on his face, the one he’d get when he was about to make a point— and it irritates you so quickly that it’s almost debilitating.

The rush of emotions as you see him again floods you with a memory of a time like this long ago. It hits you like a tide that washes over your senses, the way one breathes in saltwater, all nostalgia and raging hurt, and as you gulp in oxygen, breathing heavily. For a second, the shadows in this dark room look like the friends you lost on a night this, one you no longer talk about.

Guilt, anger, and love all vie for your attention but your mind goes numb as Sirius steps closer, his face twisted in a wry smile as he meets your gaze.

"Hello, wife." He whispers, his voice tinged with affection and regret. He’s different now, older… starved. Sirius steps closer to you blinking slowly, hand grazing your wrist like he’s afraid you’re a figment of his imagination again. He’s spent a lot of time over the years imagining you. But then the anger comes back to the forefront of your brain before he can do anything about it.

You sock him hard in the jaw, and he crumples to the ground like paper. What a scene— Severus lying unconscious behind you, Sirius keeled over holding his jaw, and the Golden Trio stares at you with open mouths.

“Who even are you?” A ginger boy holding a ball of fur almost howls in disbelief. Is that…

“Good to have you back, love,” Remus says with a knowing grin, and then all you can hear is Sirius’s laughter. Despite the blood dripping from his lips he laughs, so filled with enjoyment that he hasn't felt in years.

“Someone’s gotta keep you two in line,” you huff, looking around quickly as you point your wand at the damn rat of a man hiding in the grasp of these children.

“Put him down so I can hurt him,” You spit, and Peter Pettigrew, ever the petty little man launches himself at you going down in a flurry of multicolored sparks and misfired spells.

“Kill him, baby, kill him! You knew it wasn’t me, didn’t you? I’ve been waiting for this… 12 years of it! In Azkaban!” Sirius chortles, almost rocking on the floor in glee, finding this hilarious.

“Quiet you git, or I’ll make sure you’re next!”

A low growl comes out of Remus, and you realize revenge will have to wait once more, pushing the Trio out of the shack. One thing is clear in your mind as you run for your life.

You have got to stop testing fate.

—

Tomorrow, you turn 34. What better way to celebrate than to pay a visit to your ex-boyfriend after he escaped from Azkaban? Clearly, Remus Lupin thinks it’s his best idea yet.

“He’s not doing so well, (Y/N). Can’t seem to adjust at Grimmauld Place and find a new normal…” Remus mutters over the floo network late at night.

“I don’t think normal and that place could ever belong in the same sentence,” you say with a furrowed brow. From one prison to another, you think.

“I just… I thought I’d floo you because I’m running out of ideas. You know… you knew him best.” The fireplace illuminates your face in the small apartment you’ve been residing in for the past month since your return.

“Does it matter? We’re strangers again, just bound together by hazy memories. I wouldn’t know what to do…”

“But I think you do, and he wants you there. Just doesn’t know how to say it. For some of us, memories are all we have.” The image of Remus’s head was getting licked at by the hot flames, and the idea of being in front of Sirius again, not for Order business, but to be even a friend, after everything…

You felt like you were on fire too.

“Isn’t it ironic that the happy memories hurt more than the sad ones, Rem?” Silence greets you from the other end of the fire, both of you knowing that it’s the truth

Sirius sees you approaching the house in the early morning as he watches out the window after another sleepless night. His body jerks up from his hunched position at the bay window, wiping at the corners of his eyes. You came. You’re here. For him.

He meets you downstairs, daybreak peeking in rays of blue and purple behind you, the frame of the doorway separating the two of you along with the realization that you’ve missed each other for longer than you’ve known one another.

You step back into his space, and he takes your coat quietly, scared to make another mistake, scared to push you away like he has many times before.

Something akin to grief holds you there in the foyer, staring at each other in a new light, faces changed by the life you should have lived together. For right now, there’s nothing more to hide, nothing less than the simple truth that you are two different bodies with the same souls. There is no struggle in the way your hand reaches out for his chest, to feel the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a while, you both feel alive.

“Sirius…” you whisper. No nicknames, because what do you call him after all that? The man who left that night with hushed promises and left you to handle the wreckage.

The world keeps moving and he’s still stuck there in that cell. In this house. Sirius can’t seem to walk away from what haunts him, but at the sound of your voice saying his name he smiles.

No one’s said his name that kindly to him in years. Not in the way that you do.

“Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

—

You’re 35 now, and you’ve realized that it takes time. Time is all you have when your love is in hiding. You’re caught again between the blurry lines of friends and something more, but the work that has to be done comes first before anything.

And it is driving Remus mad.

You moved into one of the many spare rooms at Grimmauld Place when Remus did, to keep Sirius company and organize affairs for the Order. But to watch you two dance around each other awkwardly makes him want to claw at his skin more than he already has.

“Friends stick together. We help each other out,” you say nonchalantly and Sirius’ head bobs as he helps you put the groceries away one day. Remus is not as amused.

There are a lot of things to fix here, with the house swarming with dark magic and cursed artifacts. You all spent weeks researching the combination of anti-sticking charms to tear down the family tapestry.

Wretched Walburga’s painting was almost one with the foundation of the building, so you found a way to magic it shut forever. To take down the bad memories brick by brick, hurt and shame—if that’s what he wanted, you and Remus made sure it was what he would get. It’s what he deserved. When you finally showed Sirius the closed-off wall, without the invidious glare of his birthgiver, he thought he could kiss you with the happiness it brought him. You have a way of doing that, so intentional with your words, and how you’ve been caring for him, giving him the room he’s learning to occupy again…

So he did.

Hesitantly, then desperately drinking you in like a man left starved, and he had years of a fill to catch up on. He could drown in you if you’d let him.

And you did.

You kissed in the middle of the living room he was once damned in, legs hoisted over his hips as you fall onto the sofa. Frantic movements, kisses conveying words left unsaid, and at one point you both cry in pleasure and relief at being in each other’s arms again. If everything’s gone wrong in life, dear Circe, was this finally right.

His thrusts are slow as he gazes at you from above, hair moved out of your face to properly see you. Calloused hands roam your body that he wishes to reacquaint himself with from the inside out, from your skin to your bones.

“It’s okay,” you sigh as you touch his jaw, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m scared to ruin this. To ruin you.”

Your hips slow as you reach around to hug him. Sirius had long come to terms with the fact that he ruins everything he touches, and you’re not an exception in a long line of proof. You gently pull his body down before rolling over him, placing kisses everywhere you could reach. The crease in his forehead, his sunken in collarbones, the lean of his chest until your eyes and lips fall upon the dark etch of your name on his ribcage, under his heart. It joins the many other tattoos that grace his slender body, but it’s the only one in bright, devastating red. Your eyes meet again.

“I…they kept trying to take the necklace away. I had to remember you somehow. I’m sorry,” he says bashfully, eyes flickering to the ceiling in timidity, and the apology slips out from his lips. It makes you smile at how far he is from the arrogant man you once knew.

“Then ruin me then. Again. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your approval stokes the fire in him, hands grabbing for dear life to feel you more underneath his fingertips and with the movements he makes from under you, striking hard like he has something he needs to prove. As you sigh into his neck and hold tightly onto his hand, you think of how loving him has always been red. Necklace or not, that has always been the truth.

Naked underneath a throw blanket that might scar Remus’ senses when he gets back from his mission and surrounded by the construction job of a house he once hated, Sirius breathes easily with you resting upon his chest. He hasn’t dreamed in a long while, but here, he can conjure images of finally marrying you and making this house a home.

“What are you thinking about? Tell me the truth,” you whisper, and he stops breathing, thinking you’re already asleep. Your fingers rub a mark on his neck lovingly.

“I want you to call me anything else. Baby, sweetness, darling…” he muses with a crackly voice.

“I don’t like my name. You’ve always known that. I don’t think it’s ever been mine. But I have always been yours, even when I didn’t know it. Even if you don’t want me.”

You press yourself closer to him, if that’s even humanly possible, gripping onto his soul.

“Husband it is then.”

—

At 36, you didn’t think you’d be having this fight with him again.

It wouldn’t be Sirius if he didn’t put up a fight. The man who’s spent his entire life fighting to get everything he wants or even a fraction of what he felt he needed. So why would loving him be any more simple?

He won’t easily admit that he’s never experienced life the way he wanted to unless he was with you, the only constant, his only calm. But there’s no way in hell you’re letting him rush out into the night again to never be seen.

“Harry needs me, my love. I need to protect him! You need to stay here,” Sirius bites back at the desperation writhing through his being, needing for you to understand that he wants you safe too.

“I’m tired of fighting you, babe, I can’t…” Your hands slam onto the dining table as he paces around it, running away from you again as he grabs things he needs. The lack of air in your lungs is making everything rush to your head, anxiety making you spiral as you chase him again, reaching out for him like trying to grapple with smoke.

“I can’t do this. I’m not letting you leave without me again,” you wail, and he’s not listening, hyperfocused on saving one of the few people he has left to live for. He laces his boots haphazardly, keys being thrown into his jacket pocket, and it all boils over.

“SIRIUS!” you scream. He stops in his tracks and looks at you in the moonlight, face illuminated by the kitchen window. You’re crying, shaking, with your hand still outstretched for him to hold. He pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead with all the love he can muster.

“I...can’t lose you again. Could it be easy this once? I’m not the enemy here. Please don’t fight me on this,” you heave between soft sobs, hands crinkling his shirt to keep you grounded.

“You’re coming.” he surrenders, and you nod, both of you knowing it’s the truth. The blue light of a refashioned heart necklace lights the space between you. Fear fills the air again, and he silently grabs your jacket, zipping it up and tucking the pendant underneath your shirt. His thumb brushes over your jaw in an unhurried moment as he looks at you long enough that you wish to stay here forever.

“I love you.”

“I know, husband. I love you.”

Your hand grips onto his and you apparate to the Department of Mysteries.

—

The quiet tragedy of your love will never truly leave your ribcage, and Sirius’s quite literally etched in the skin and bones of him, under his heart.

One moment, he’s fighting for his life with you beside him, and the next, he’s falling. The love never disappeared, though it appeared differently the second time around. You couldn’t love each other the same way twice, with everything that’s changed since the beginning of it, but the love was there. It evolved with you. It endures.

You’re the only family he needs, and this point is further solidified when his cousin sends a killing curse his way, and his saving grace is you letting go of his hand to to blast her into oblivion. He trips backward to the Veil all the same.

“Wife…” he breathes out, being pulled in by nothingness. Your body turns slowly and your eyes meet, his hand out his hand stretches to reach yours. His eyes reflect the red glow of the pendant on your chest, and then you know what to do.

“Husband!” The sound of your voice brings a smile to his face and he shuts his eyes not needing to know how this will end because you’re here, and barely a breath away.

There wasn’t even a second thought to grab his hand, and the both of you are falling, falling again. Hands intertwined, both ringless, yet all the more secure and true. This is how it was meant to be.

—

“I can’t decide if time

Is my enemy

Or my friend

Time takes the pain away

But time takes you away too.”

-Whitney Hanson

taglist (OPEN): @jsjcue

love me some tunes! I listened to these three songs while I wrote: cedar by gracie abrams, adam's ribs by jensen mcrae, the alcott by the national (ft. taylor swift)

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x reader angst #sirius black x reader smut #marauders era

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nwjws · 6 months

Text

indebted to you - PSH 🎐

; PAIRING - sunghoon x gn!reader

; SYNOPSIS - every house at hogwarts has a student that doesn’t fit in. ravenclaw, known for intelligence and wit, had park sunghoon, who was neither. everyone’s always wondered how he ended up in the house, but when you follow him into the whomping willow one night during your patrols, you might just find out why.

; TAGS - one shot, hogwarts au, fluff, angst, healing each other, ravenclaw!sunghoon, ravenclaw!reader, book smart!r, street smart!sh, oblivious reader ; WARNINGS - reader gets injured and hurt pretty badly, not proofread and literally no planning whatsoever i winged this entire fic, just me and the voices

; WC - 5.1k

; AUTHOR'S CORNER! - this was requested! the req was pretty vague so i had a lot of freedom and it ended up longer than i planned LOL

every house has an odd one out.

a gryffindor that’s too scared and cowardly; a slytherin that gives up easily; a hufflepuff that would sell out anyone in a heartbeat.

in ravenclaw, you had park sunghoon.

he was everything ravenclaw was not. wit? nope, he was pretty slow. intelligence? honestly, he had about as much knowledge as a first year muggleborn (and he’s lived in the wizarding world his whole life). good grades? god, you don’t know how he managed to make it to 5th year when he was barely scraping by with As (acceptables) in his tests. even being best friends with arguably one of the smartest ravenclaws in your year, jake sim, he still fell short of others.

of course, that undoubtedly led to him being cast out, often sneered at and made fun of by others. how could he be a ravenclaw if he was so stupid?

you didn’t agree with them when they’d call him names, and took the mickey out of the poor boy. there‘s a particular memory you have - in which he entered the common room all battered up and bruised, with jake at his side.

you’d been horrified to see him in such a state, and hurried to help him by healing his wounds. jake had thanked you profusely, but sunghoon had fallen fast asleep on the couch.

you scoffed at the other five students in the room that just stared either in shock or amusement. ravenclaws were never really known for their empathy.

that’s why you weren’t surprised when your patrol partner derided him when you two spotted the oddity slipping out of the castle.

“can’t even hide himself,” he scoffed. “is there anything good he can do?”

“i’m sure there is,” you frown at the other prefect. “there’s got to be a reason the sorting hat put him with us.”

“maybe the sorting hat made a mistake.”

“the hat never makes mistakes.”

“park is a sure evidence that it does. maybe the old thing’s getting rusty in its game.”

you rolled your eyes and walked ahead, dismissing the guy and telling him you’d do the rest of the rounds on your own.

peering out a window, you watched sunghoon casually walk down the steps, towards the whomping willow, you realised. you left the castle and followed him down too, to warn him against visiting the violent tree.

when you got closer, you paused when sunghoon backed away as the tree came to life, and its branches started whipping in his direction. he reached into the book bag slung over his shoulder.

you hid behind a tree and watched curiously as he pulled out a little toy mouse and what looked to be a controller. where did he get that? sunghoon switched it on and placed it on the ground, before using his joystick controller to move the mouse around.

the mouse rolled on its wheels, and escaped the branches, rolling under them and to the base of the trunk. you gasp when the willow’s branches stop lashing out and wonder how he did that.

sunghoon turns sharply when he hears you, and looks around, his stare lingering on the spot you had just been standing in. he reluctantly continues into the gaping entrance at the roots of the tree.

you stay in your spot for a moment longer, wondering if it was really smart of you to follow sunghoon into the tree, infamous for its violent tendencies to destroy anything within its range.

but it’s your duty as a prefect to make sure sunghoon is safe, especially having caught him on his escapade during one of your own patrols. if you left him there and he was found dead or injured in the morning, you would be at fault.

gathering your resolve, you decide to push forward.

nearing the tree, it comes back to life and starts to try attacking you. you have to run back and sit for a moment, wondering how to get through the branches. it’s not like you had your own little mouse and joystick - and besides, if you did, you wouldn’t even know what to do with it. you had no idea exactly what sunghoon did with his tools to calm down the tree.

you curse yourself for not finding out a way to calm down whomping willow trees, but can you really blame yourself? that stuff was NEWT level, only taught in sixth year. you were only in fifth.

you decide to suck it up and watch as the tree swishes around and around, waiting for the branches to leave an opening to the entrance.

when the opportunity comes, you quickly spring into action and sprint towards the open space, praying the tree doesn’t sense you in time.

that was a silly hope. of course it detected you, hell - it might have even purposely left the space open just so you’d come nearer. either way, it swung its arms at you and pushed you to the side causing you to fall and roll on your side. pain shot through your side, so much so you were pretty sure you broke a rib or two. you never knew how strong the tree was.

laying on the ground and waiting the pain out would have been preferable, if there wasn’t a tree trying to whack you to death. so despite the throbbing pain, you forced yourself to get roll onto your stomach (god, maybe you broke three ribs) and got onto your knees.

you scrambled on the ground and ducked your head when another branch came flying by, and crawled (or at least, something like it) towards the hole sunghoon entered through.

as you lowered into the entrance, another branch struck at you, slashing through your uniform and into the skin of your back. a shriek ripped through your throat, and you slipped on the loose gravel of the entrance, sliding down into the tree.

“what are you doing here?”

you cracked an eye open painfully and stared up at sunghoon from where you were sitting on the ground, scrapped, injured, and grumpy.

“oh, nothing. just thought i’d get my ass whooped by my lovely friend, the whomping willow. nothing special, just your average sunday night, you know?”

he huffed amusedly and pulled you up by the wrist. you hissed at the pain, which had him faltering.

“are you okay? sorry, that’s a stupid question.”

“i’m perfectly dandy!”

“here, can you move onto the chair?” he asked, pulling a wooden and splintered chair closer to you. you stood up and sat on it, albeit wincing at every movement.

you pulled out your wand and pointed it at yourself, cleaning your body of all the dirt and grime. sunghoon stared at you contemplatively, concerned lacing his features as he tried to figure out what to do.

“not to disturb you from appreciating my face or anything, i know i’m drop dead gorgeous and all. however, i would really appreciate it if i got some help over here.”

sunghoon flushed red and rushed to your side, kneeling as he pointed his own wand at your ribs.

“i don’t think i need to tell you that this is gonna hurt.”

“what are you doing?” you ask curiously.

he ignores you, speaking an unfamiliar incantation.

then followed: the longest, most agonising 15 seconds of your life.

the air was pushed out of your lungs, and your insides screamed as you felt your bones rearranging themselves. you thrashed as you begged for it to stop, for the pain to go away, or to just die right then and there, if only so the torture would stop.

as if the world was listening, it did stop. as abruptly as it started, it ended. hesitantly, you opened your eyes, to see sunghoon still kneeling in front of you, sweat rolling down his face, searching your face for any signs of further discomfort.

“are you okay?”

you blinked, staring into his eyes. there was a light in them - from where, you don’t know. there was barely any light in the room, the only source being the moon from outside the window.

“what… just happened,” you asked, almost forgetting to reply.

“i performed a spell the sped up the regeneration of your bones.”

you blinked again.

“…so, i’m okay?”

“i’m asking you that.”

“right.” you stood up and felt your torso with your hands, twisting your middle to test for any pain. “yeah, i think my ribs are fixed.”

“probably not fully,” he corrected, rubbing his nape awkwardly. “i haven’t mastered the spell just yet, so your bones may feel a bit stiff in the morning. just don’t do that again.”

“okay, wait. i have so many questions right now.”

sunghoon looked like he expected it, inhaling a breath and sitting on the dusty bed. “a question for a question, ‘kay? ask away.”

“where do i even start?” you sighed. you realised you still had scratches, and the slit on your back. you worked quickly to heal them, while sunghoon went over to help you with your back injury, seeing as you were struggling to reach it.

“how about, what’s your skin care routine, sunghoon?” he joked.

“and they say you don’t have a smart mouth,” you scoff, but laugh anyway.

“they also say i have pretty good skin.”

“i get it, your skin is clearer than any blue sky,” you roll your eyes, sighing in relief as sunghoon casts a (much more soothing) healing spell on your back. “okay, what are you doing here?”

“i was enjoying my peace and quiet, at least until you came.”

“you come to the whomping willow often?”

“i guess so,” he shrugs. “sometimes, when i can’t stand going back to the ravenclaw dorms, i go here.”

“oh.”

“your turn. what are you doing here?”

“to ask for your skin care,” you blurt out. sunghoon barks a beautiful laugh. “i saw you when i was on patrol and followed you when i saw you were going to the whomping willow. i wanted to tell you it was dangerous, and stupid.”

“and yet, you’re the one who’s hurt and injured.”

“theres a reason students are forbidden from coming here,” you say.

“yeah, so why didn’t you just call a teacher? you didn’t have to follow me all the way here, and you knew how dangerous it was.”

you stared at your lap. you didn’t think of just calling a professor, but now that seemed like the more logical thing to do.

“you must have been doing this a long time then, if you knew how to get past the tree safely.”

“about a year and a half,” he confirms. “do you remember that day i came back all messed up?”

“you remember that?” you ask, looking at him with wide eyes.

“how could i not? everyone looked at me like i deserved it, but you were the only person who did anything,” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“i thought you were beat up by other kids.”

“nope. that was the first time i tried to get into the whomping willow. i just hated the idea of going back to the common room, but i didn’t have a way of getting past the tree’s angry arms just yet. jake found me beat up and bleeding on the ground, and brought me back up to the castle.”

“he didn’t bring you to the infirmary? otherwise you would have been perfectly fine when you came back.”

“i asked him not to. even the nurse hates me,” he confessed quietly. your heart ached, and you hated everyone else at that very moment.

how could people hate sunghoon so much for suffering in school? he, who was healing you right now in the dark room of the whomping willow tree. how did he even know that spell earlier?

“can i ask how you knew that spell earlier? i didn’t recognise it.”

sunghoon chuckled. “okay, but that’s two questions. you owe me two answers.” you’d forgotten you were playing some sort of game.

“fine.”

“sometimes, i like to read up on books from other nations. i used to do it only because i’d been searching for a spell to freeze a large body of water for ice skating - i like to do that too - but it turned into a genuine interest.”

“reading up on foreign spells? huh,” you thought out loud. “that’s actually really cool. i’d never thought of it. where was the one you put on my bones earlier from?”

“south asia. i practiced almost all of the spells i came across, but it’s not like i had anything to test them on. i wasn’t going to break some poor animal’s ribs just to see if i could fix it.”

“ah, so i was your lab rat, huh?”

“i guess,” he shrugged. “maybe if i had more practice, i’d have actually been able to fix them entirely.”

“don’t worry about it,” you reassure him. “honestly, the fact you could even perform the spell so well without much practice is amazing. thank you, by the way. i’d probably be at the infirmary instead by now, slowly healing with a stupid magic hot pack the nurse always gives.”

sunghoon laughed at that. “the nurses always give those out. pretty useless, huh?”

“if you ask me, i think they’re just lazy at their job.”

you turn to look at the boy appreciatively, but instead you’re captured in a trance.

the way the moon illuminated his features made him look ethereal; you were jealous. how could someone make a person this beautiful, only to put them through torment from others? it didn’t make sense. it wasn’t fair.

sunghoon squeezed your hand, and only then did you realise he’d been holding it. was he holding your hand the whole time?

“let’s go back to the castle. i don’t think you’d want to spend the rest of the night in the whomping willow.”

“you’re right. but what about you? are you sure you want to go back?”

“i’m feeling better about going up, now that i’ve talked to you.”

“glad i served two purposes by being hurt tonight,” you jokingly saluted. you two shared a laugh before starting back up the path to the castle, being careful not to get caught being out after-hours.

when you two reached the top of the spiral staircase to your house's common room, you approached the eagle knocker on the door.

"when is ninety-nine more than a hundred?" the knocker asked.

you paused for a moment to think, looking to sunghoon for help. he only shrugged at you.

"on a microwave," you realised. "press ninety-nine, and it'll go for a minute and thirty-nine seconds. press one hundred, and the microwave will only work for a minute."

the door swung open after a moment, allowing you and sunghoon to enter.

"i can never answer those riddles."

you looked at him confusedly. "really?"

"really. i've given up trying to answer them since first year," he chuckled quietly to himself.

"but you have to answer them to get into the common room and dorms. how do you usually get back in, then?"

he smiled at you, flashing his fanged tooth. "that's your third question. i usually always come back with jake or sometimes jungwon, and they'll answer it for me. if i'm not with them, well, i'll just wait until they come."

"on the times they don't?"

"then i go to the whomping willow," he looks ahead. "tonight was one of those times, actually. it was the main reason i went out. jake's sick and he's been in bed all day. jungwon is out probably picking a fight with some other smarty-pants."

"oh. that sucks," is your intelligent reply.

"i always said that a password like the gryffindors would have been easier than riddles," he huffs.

ever since that night at the whomping willow, you and sunghoon were considerably. more acquainted and friendly with each other.

smiles shared across crowded hallways and sitting with the other in the ravenclaw common room became normal. sometimes, when you waited for your friends in the great hall for breakfast, sunghoon would strike up a conversation with you, and you'd happily converse with him (and jake).

neither of you had told your friends about the incident. or at least, you didn't. if sunghoon told jake, or any of his other friends (who the school called 'enhypen'), they didn't show any signs of knowing what went down between you two.

that didn't stop your own friends from raising an eyebrow when you said a quick hi to the taller boy, though. the same could be said for sunghoon's friends. there were countless times jake had (very obviously) pushed you two together with a grin on his face and a glint in his eyes. you and sunghoon just rolled your eyes and shared a secret smile - one that had your heart beating a little faster, unable to hold his gaze for a second longer.

that was weird, you thought one day. sunghoon had discreetly levitated some small chocolates to you in class, before you started feeling warmer and found it harder to focus on the lesson. maybe you were getting a fever.

on another note, your newfound friendship with ravenclaw's outcast meant that you often asked about what book he was reading and from where. sometimes you two would even study it together in the library.

"hey, i wanna practice a new spell i found," he greets you as he enters the common room (with jungwon).

"good day to you too," you reply. "do you need to break my ribs and test this 'new spell' on me?"

"if you're offering," he grins.

"i don't know what you're doing, y/n," jungwon starts. "but somehow, this guy's gotten better at comebacks."

"i guess your sarcasm is rubbing off on me."

"i do have that effect on people," you shrug nonchalantly, but let a smile pull at your lips.

the new spell definitely did not need any broken ribs. if anything, it would protect you from them next time.

sunghoon had cast a shield charm on you - one like an invisible bubble around your figure. nothing could get within a two meter range of you, the bubble following you around wherever you walked.

"this is pretty cool," you wow in amazement. you walk closer to the boy, only for him to be forcefully pushed back before you can even touch him. "no wonder charms is the only subject you're acing."

"well, that's why i have you and jake tutoring me on everything else."

"i should ask you where you even get the books for these spells. the international selection in the library isn't exactly that big."

"jake's parents work around the globe, and send me them."

"jake's really got your back, huh?"

"yup. that's four questions, by the way."

"oh, c'mon!" you roll your eyes and groan. sunghoon throws his head back in laughter. "just ask me your damn questions."

"hmm," he said thoughtfully. "why are you nice to me?"

you looked at him meaningfully. "i'm not nice to you, sunghoon. i just have enough human decency to treat you with the respect you have the right to."

he stared at you for a moment with an unreadable expression.

after a moment, he cast off the shield spell, and walked closer to you. he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, making sure you were okay with it. you hugged him first, and felt him envelope you in an embrace after.

his warmth seeped into your clothes, which you welcomed wholly considering the cold february air. you could feel his heart beating fast - or is it yours?

with your chin sitting on his shoulder, you could see the great lake which had frozen from the winter temperature behind him, and remembered something he told you.

"you were looking for a spell to freeze large bodies of water."

"that's not a question," he mumbles against your shoulder.

"no, it's not."

"like i said, i wanted to go ice skating. it's fun, and i feel free when i do it. but you can't really go skating much at school when there's no ice rink."

"so you wanted to freeze the great lake? isn't there already some spell for that?"

"well, yeah. but that spell freezes it for a pretty long time, and i don't think the merpeople would appreciate their home being frozen for half the year."

"or that the school would allow it," you remind him.

"yeah, that too," he chuckled, his laugh reverberating through you. he finally let go and turned to the lake. "i wanted to find a temporary freezing spell - a few hours at most."

you hummed and stared into the cloudy sunset with him. you missed the warmth of his body, oddly enough.

"could i borrow the book you got this spell from?" you asked him. "that's not a question, by the way."

he smiled. "no, it's not."

maybe you really should go see the nurse. you don't think whatever magical hot pack she'll give you would help with your fever, though.

lately, you noticed that your pulse seemed to increase every so often. when that happened, you felt a bit more nervous - picking at your skin, bouncing your leg, etc. you were struggling to focus in some of your classes too, and you really needed to pick up your weight for your upcoming OWLs.

"stop biting your lip," sunghoon tells you one time.

"i'm not biting my lip. i don't do that," you look at him confusedly.

"you were just doing it. you've been doing it often," he tells you.

"you noticed?" you asked, surprised. his demeanour turned bashful.

"i guess so. here, i got you lip balm."

sunghoon reached into his bag and pulled out a small chapstick.

"for me?" he surprised you again. sunghoon nods. "your lips have gotten uneven and red from all that biting. this should help."

"...thanks," you say, taking the item from his hand.

you don't miss the way his breath hitches when your skin brushes against his. or the way you, both go quiet, unable to make conversation for once.

"so!" you clear your throat, looking in another direction. looking at sunghoon definitely wasn't going to help with your fever right now, or whatever it is you had.

"you still have three questions for me."

"i do," he huffs with a lilt in his tone. "white or dark chocolate?"

you consider him. you didn't understand this little game he was playing - wasn't it supposed to be meaningful questions? one that let you learn more about the other? sunghoon was always unpredictable - you could never guess what he was going to do next. he wasn't just a book you could read and learn from.

a laugh escapes you. "milk chocolate."

something you could read up on however, was the symptoms you were feeling. unfortunately, none of the medicinal books you read had answers that suited you.

you found yourself spending late nights at the ravenclaw library, scouring the shelves for an answer. did you have a new disease, or something?

"y/n?" you jumped when you heard jake's voice call out from below.

climbing down the ladder, you glare at him. "you scared me. what are you doing here? it's like two in the morning."

"it's almost three, actually." you wanted to laugh as he pushed up his glasses. "and anyway, i was going to ask you that question first."

you set down the books in your arms and start flipping through them.

"i was looking for something - a disease, maybe."

"oh? why's that?"

"i've not been feeling well, lately."

"i know a fair lot about medicine and sicknesses," he tells you. "shoot."

"well, i guess my temperature's been fluctuating. sometimes, it would get hotter, at random points in the day. i start to feel ditzy, like my mind goes haywire. i feel anxious when it happens, and it's a little harder to concentrate in class."

"uh huh..." he says thoughtfully. "do you ever feel that in history of magic?"

you look at him with wide eyes, nodding eagerly. "i always feel it during that class!"

"okay, i wanna ask you a question," he faces you. you scrunch your nose.

"you're just like sunghoon. always talking about that stupid question game."

jake just smirked at you. "nevermind, i already got my answer."

"what?"

"i think... the disease you're looking for, is feelings."

"feelings?"

"feelings for sunghoon. i think you like him a lot. you feel all that during history - a class you share with him," he thinks out loud. "i was going to ask if you think about sunghoon often, but you literally mentioned him just now, before i even brought him up."

jake made his way over to you and tapped two fingers to your chest, right above your heart.

"i'm not an expert, but i think this is an easily diagnosable case of love."

you gaped at him, slowly taking your seat.

"i like sunghoon?"

"how long have you been feeling this?"

"maybe a few months, now."

"wow," jake whistled. "i think you should tell him"

"i think that's stupid."

"well, not every ravenclaw can be smart," he shrugged. you glared at him.

"what are you doing here anyway? i don't suppose you're also looking for a diagnosis of love. if anything, i'd diagnose you with nosy."

jake laughed at that. "nah, i was actually looking for you. it's getting kinda boring seeing you and sunghoon pine over each other. thought i'd finally do something about it."

you threw a book at him, which he dodged. unfortunately, he didn't anticipate the second.

"ow!"

"like i said - nosy."

"i do have a pretty good nose - one you'll break if you throw another book at me."

"ugh, you and your friend are so full of yourselves," you scoff. you begin to walk out the library, refusing to see the grin on jake's face.

the sound of his laughter was cut off by the slam of the library doors behind you.

"bring your skates," you shout excitedly to sunghoon as soon as you run into the common room.

he looks at you in bewilderment from the couch, where he'd been playing wizarding chess with jungwon and jake.

"it's the middle of march, the ice has melted. where the hell am i going to skate?"

"just bring it," you smile.

you drag sunghoon down to the great lake by his wrist, both of you guys holding onto ice skates. the sun shines, sparkling in the water of the great lake.

you stop by the lake and fix your skates on. sunghoon follows suit.

"i still don't get what's happening."

"i found a way we can skate even when there's no more ice."

"really?" he gasps, a mix of surprise and excitement on his face. "you found a spell? from where?"

"actually... i didn't find one," you admit meekly. "i made one."

"you made a spell?" he asks, astonished. "how? when? why?"

"you only have two questions," you tease him. it felt good to get him back.

"remember when i asked for the book that had that shield spell?"

"yes."

"i had an idea - what if we could make the water freeze around us? like the way the shield has a range around you where no one can hurt you. i put that concept onto freezing water, and made a spell where the water freezes into ice only around you. that way, you can skate, without freezing the whole lake!"

"that's- that's amazing..." he gawked at you. "have you tried it yet?"

"yep! i wanted to make sure it worked before i got your hopes up."

the both of you stand up and stumble towards the water. you point your wand at the blades on both your shoes, and said the incantation for the spell.

sunghoon tentatively stepped onto the water, wowing when the water around him froze. you watched as he slowly begun to skate on the lake, following him.

"you're crazy," he exclaims with joyful laughter. "you're literally insane. i don't know how you did that. but you're amazing."

you blushed at his praise, his words affecting you way more than anyone else's would have.

being distracted and flustered, you lost your footing on the water (or ice?) and slipped. thankfully, sunghoon dashed towards you and caught you before you planted into the ground.

"careful," he told you. "although i would like to practice that regenerating rib spell, i don't want you breaking any bones again."

you smile shyly, clinging onto his shoulder as he wraps his arm around your back, making sure you didn't fall.

"thank you," you say. "you're always looking after me."

"you did the same for me."

"just once, though. this must be the fifth time you've helped me."

"well, you're kind of clumsy."

"only when i'm with you, it seems."

sunghoon paused, and turned around to look at you, finally letting go of you. you gazed back at him.

"what do you mean?"

"that's two extra questions," you smile at him. "you owe me two answers."

you took in a breath and looked away. you weren't sure if you wanted to see his reaction.

"i think i like you, park sunghoon. meeting you and becoming your friend was a total accident, but a good one. i'm happy it happened, and i wouldn't have changed anything. otherwise, i wouldn't have ever experienced this carefree feeling when i'm around you. i wouldn't have felt what it's like to have my heart speed up, or to look forward to seeing a person every day. and i wouldn't have that person be anyone other than you." serendipity.

you turned to look at him, whose eyes were blown wide, mouth agape. his eyes put his feelings on full display. you could see the disbelief, relief, and affection in them. it gave you courage to say your next words.

"so, you owe me two answers."

he closed his mouth and nodded, gulping down in anticipation. you skate closer, inches disappearing between you two.

"sunghoon, would you let me be yours?"

"yes. yes, yes, yes," he nods, grabbing your wrists and pulling you closer. "if only you'll let me be yours."

you giggle, and lean into him. your faces are now centimetres apart.

"and lastly, can i kiss you?"

he chuckles back. "you really don't have to ask that question."

"just wanted to make sure," you smile, before he crashes his lips onto yours.

; AUTHOR'S CORNER! it's 1am, and this fic is a product of running my imagination with barely any guidelines whatsoever LOL so idk how coherent it is 😁 btw i am closing reqs for now! so i can focus on other works :)

; TAGLIST - @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii . @kflixnet @k-films @/k-labels

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ mi's works #k-labels #k-films #kflixnet #sunghoon #park sunghoon #enhypen #sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon drabbles #sunghoon one shot #sunghoon fics #hogwarts au #enhypen hogwarts au #enhypen fluff #˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ requested 🎐

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johnwickb1tsch · 1 month

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 28 all chapters

⚠⚠Trigger warning: mention of past terminated pregnancy, NOT Reader. If details of this will bother you skip the section that starts with “One day he lets you sit in as he repairs a tattered copy of The Wind In The Willows.” You can pick up again at “-He gives you run of the house.” I’ll give you the brief gist of the plot point in the end notes. Also mention of possible suicide, NOT Reader.

-As he prepares dinner you sit at the island, you are enjoying a glass of wine and watching him cook. His hands are like poetry, no matter the task at hand. He is slicing peppers, and offers you a piece from across the island. After your previous experience, you should be wary accepting any tidbit that color from this man, but in an act of trust you take it, your lips brushing the tips of his fingers.

It is sweet and crisp and juicy between your teeth, and you sigh to yourself.

This is what you could have had, all along.

Watching you with a small smile, he twirls the knife in his hand absently like it is an extension of his body.

You do not take it as a threat. He simply seems…content, and you wonder if you dare trust any of this at face value.

He goes back to cooking, and you watch him with your wine in hand. It is a tasty Cabernet from Chilé, and maybe you shouldn’t drink too much of it, but then again…what do you have to lose at this point?

Your eyes cast around the cavernous room while John bustles at the stove. The scene is so domestic you could cry, because you realize this is what you’d hoped to share with him before it all went to hell.

You cast your eyes down, to find the razor-sharp Japanese paring knife is now sitting in the middle of the island by the cutting board, easily within reach.

It's really the first mistake he's made in the keeping of you, since he let his guard down enough to let you whomp him with War and Peace.

You stare at it, thinking.

Is it an opportunity? What exactly would you do with it, that would achieve any sort of useful end? It hits you like a ton of bricks for some reason, when you realize that despite what he’s done to you, you have zero interest in hurting John.

You hadn’t even liked hitting him with a book.

The thought of stabbing him makes you physically ill.

Frowning at the thought, you cross your arms and sit back on the stool, glaring at the thing as though it had called you a filthy name.

Belatedly, you realize John is watching you from over at the stove.

It wasn’t a mistake.

It was a test.

You transfer your glare to him as he approaches, picking up the tiny but potentially deadly blade.

He says nothing, just washes and dries it before replacing it in the knife block, not the locked drawer.

You guess you passed.

-Later, over dinner, he asks, “Why didn't you pick it up?”

“Because the thought of hurting you makes me sick.”

He actually smirks at you. “That’s nice to hear.”

You’re not sure if he’s baiting you on purpose, but your temper starts to rise. So much for a quiet evening.

“That’s not how I’m going to get out of here,” you declare, feeling brave.

Or stupid.

Hearing this amuses him heartily.

“Yeah?”

“Someday, you're going to let me go, because you'll realize it's the right thing to do.”

He leans his elbows on the table, fixing you with that dark stare that pins you in your seat. “I already told you, kitten, I'm never going to let you go.” He says it sweetly this time, but you sense he is still absolutely serious in his conviction.

-The week that follows is a series of halcyon days, filled with the affection and attention from Mr. Wick that you'd craved all along. Something has shifted in him, and you're still not sure exactly what, or how to make it stay.

You cook meals together in the mornings and evenings. He teaches you things about haute cuisine and international dishes that you'd never had any inkling or access to. The things you make for dinner some nights you've only heard of on tv or in magazines. He's tasted these things in their original countries, and tells you what stories he can, that don't involve disclosing the details of multiple homicides committed for astronomical pay.

You know he must be showing off for you. A man with a waistline like that does not eat like this regularly. A small part of you dares to wonder, is he actually trying to woo you?

You fill your days with time in the studio, and with him.

The brightly colored Dolce and Gabbana sundresses you’d coveted in Italy mysteriously start appearing at the foot of the bed every day. Floral prints in pink and red, and bright majolica-inspired designs with yellow acanthus curls and blue accents, as well as the dreamy azure and white azulejo tile patterns. You marvel at what he spent, to lay these at your feet. You don’t even care that he’s picking out your outfits, dressing you like a feminine doll—because they make you happy. You even go so far as to wear them in your studio, not caring if you get a smudge of paint or pastel on the brightly printed fabric. What does it matter now?

What does anything matter?

-One day he lets you sit in as he repairs a tattered copy of The Wind In The Willows. You discover he likes old children’s books best and he has dozens on his shelves. Something about missing out on a real childhood of his own, you reckon, and undoubtedly the artistry that went into them.

This is the day he tells you that he was almost a father himself once. That when he’d been a foolish young man (his words), he’d fallen in love with one of the ballerinas at the school for assassins where he’d been raised. When the inevitable this led to that with hormone-charged youths with no access to birth control, they planned to run away together.

He’d wanted nothing more at that time, but to just live a simple life with his little family. He just knew in his heart, that the baby would be a girl. He’d already named her, Irina, his little Irinushka. But the night they meant to leave they were intercepted by the other students, and separated by The Director of the school. Tatiana was forced to terminate her pregnancy, because a principal ballerina bearing baby weight was of no use to The Theater at all.

When finally they were allowed to see each other young fire-eyed Jardani wanted to try to leave again. He was willing to kill anyone who got in their way this time, brothers or not. But Tatiana was changed, a shadow of the girl he’d known, and she refused to go with him. She said it had all been a stupid mistake, and he heard the Director’s indoctrination echoing through his lover’s mouth. She began numbing her pain with pills, and wouldn’t stop, despite his pleading. She pushed him away, and a year later she died in a car crash during a mission running drugs across the city. John never knew if it had been an accident, or if she’d given up to the sorrow eating at her heart.

He tells you all this in quiet, almost impersonal tones as he weaves the kettle stitch binding on the book, as though it happened to someone else. The man he had been, you suppose, this Jardani Jovonovich. You imagine what he must have been like as a young man. You suspect he must have been heartbreakingly beautiful, and probably could have had women eating out of his palm and tucking their panties into his pocket at every turn.

Yet, all he’d really wanted was his little ballerina, and his baby Irinushka.

He did leave The Theater soon after, to become the notorious Baba Yaga, the infamous assassin John Wick who could kill three men with naught but a pencil. You listen to all this with horror and tears in your eyes, feeling as though your own heart has been run through a shredder, understanding even further exactly why this steadfast man finally cracked to pieces.

You doubt your own state of mind could have fared so well, for so long.

-He gives you run of the house, reasoning correctly that you won’t be able to get past the locks and bulletproof windows anyway. One day, when you cannot find him, you wander into the garage. He is tinkering with his motorcycle, in a grease stained white t-shirt and ratty jeans that cross the wires in your brain a little.

The sight of the machine fills your heart with what is perhaps an irrational amount of hope.

“Can we go for a ride?” you ask, thinking of that perfect day you once spent together. You have not been outside once since returning to Clear Forks, though you can tell from looking out the window that you've had a series of beautiful sunny days. They’re a thing not to be wasted in the mountains; fall will come quickly, and then winter before you can blink.

“Not today, sweetheart,” he sighs, actually sounding apologetic, wiping his hands on a rag.

You pout silently, but do not push the issue. You are learning to pick your battles. If you keep poking here and prodding there, someday, you will find a weakness to exploit. You must be patient.

When he is sweet to you, patience is not so difficult to come by. You know that is dangerous, but not quite what to do about it.

The garage is a massive space, and you take the opportunity to look around. You should be scoping out possible tools for escape, but mostly...you're just curious.

Is he succeeding in training you? You ask yourself this with what should be an alarming amount of detachment.

Looking past the Land Rover in the middle bay, you see something underneath a cover. Feeling emboldened by his mild mood that day, you walk over to peek underneath.

The sight makes a quiet exclamation slip from your lips.

“Is this the car?”

It is a matte gray Mustang with subtle black racing stripes. You don't know much about classic cars, but it looks fast as hell.

“The car?”

You turn to find he is directly behind you. You didn't hear or sense him move at all. You wonder belatedly if maybe this is a sore spot you should have left well alone.

“Um...never mind.”

“It's OK. You like classics?”

“I...guess? It’s very pretty.”

He pulls off the cover, unveiling the machine in all its glory. “It’s a ’69 Boss 429. 375 horsepower, 450 pound-foot of torque.”

You smile, having no inkling what that really means, but you can tell it makes him happy.

“Can we take this for a ride?”

Luckily, he just chuckles at your transparency.

“Maybe.” It would be harder for you to escape from a car, than from off the back of the bike, after all. He kisses your forehead, not replacing the cover, before going back to the bike.

Somewhat heartened, you wander back up to your studio.

-On the third day, you start to dream about Helen.

It’s actually nothing new for you, communing with the dead through your dreams. You’ve never really thought it more than your own overactive imagination, visiting with your grandmother or your great uncles, even sometimes an old boyfriend who had since passed away. But this feels like something more, and frankly, it gives you the creeps.

At first, you are simply sitting together, an uncomfortable silence between the two of you. You can hardly blame her—you are fucking her husband, after all, if not entirely of your own choice.

But one night, she comes to you in a field of daisies. Extending one to you, she offers you a tired if not slight smile. There is a pleading in her caramel-colored eyes, and maybe regret too. She only says two words. “I’m sorry.” You wake with the haunted feeling that she knows she made him into this version of himself with the trauma of her loss, but she’s still passing the keeping of him on to you.

What does she want you to do? Save him? You start to cry quietly to yourself, because the dangerous man who was her husband is laying asleep behind you with his arms tight around you like you are his teddy bear, and you don’t know how.

Author’s note: The general gist of the TW section was that young John/Jardani and one of the ballerinas became pregnant and were going to run away from the Tarkovsky theatre. But they got caught and The Director wouldn’t allow it. She separated them, made Ballerina terminate the pregnancy, and Ballerina died the next year possibly of suicide. Obviously, this left an impression on John.

#john wick #john wick x reader #keanu reeves #john wick fic #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine

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singmyaubade · 1 year

Text

cough syrup

warning : mentions violence and cursing

sypnosis : secrets can kill

poly!marauders x female!reader

"okay boys how do i look?" you posed like a model in your floral dress, giggling.

sirius dropped his book and gave an overdramatic gasp, walking towards you, "absolutely stunning bunny." he picked you, causing you to yelp.

"put me down!" you giggled.

"how can i when you are so beautiful?' he rose you higher.

james looked about you both with a giddy smile as sirius put you down, "and jamesie, how do you think i look?" you inched closer to him, climbing on his bed in your best impression of sexy.

"i think you are the fucking sexiest thing on the planet." he replied, smiling as you kissed him on the lips.

"what about me?" sirius frowned as you giggled, pulling off of james.

you walked to sirius, both your lips meeting once you approach him. he began to grab onto your ass as you pulled away, "you know we can't, you have an important practice tonight and you know that you need all your stamina." you joked, patting on the chest.

sirius sighed, "y/n, we have been over this, i have infinite stamina." he said as you laid on remus's bed.

"who are you fooling padfoot?" james replied, barking laughing.

sirius side-eyed him, grabbing one of his pillows and throwing it at james as james replied but throwing it back which turned into a full blown pillow fight.

you laughed at both of your boyfriends childish antics and began reading a book, still hearing james and sirius's bickering.

it all came to a stop when you heard the door open to see remus standing there.

he was currently in a bad mood like he did some months and it was like walking on eggshells. you quickly put down your book, sitting up immediately.

you walked over to him, pecking him on the lips as he grabbed the back of your head, kissing you roughly.

you blushed in his hold, separating from him.

"how was your day remmy?" you beamed as he sat down on his bed.

he had dark circles under his eyes, and he had this look that made you shiver. he was the most intimidating person you could see and you knew that one wrong sentence would become hell for you.

"could've been better." he grunted.

sirius and james looked at eachother in worry. if he was in a bad mood now, the night will be even more awful for them.

remus was usually only bad after the full moon but this time was different, he was grumpy before.

you gave him a light kiss on the cheek, trying to show how bad you felt for him.

"well i have to study with lily for slughorn! will catch all of you later." you kissed them all individually.

"but-" james protested.

"love you guys!" you said in a rush as you went out the door.

little did they know, you planned to figure out where they were going all those late nights. they would tell you it was late quidditch practice to strengthen their weaknesses but you could tell that clearly wasn't true.

they would come back all battered and bruised and just tell you that they were 'playing too rough.'

they would usually disappear during dinner, not showing up but you were determined to figure it out.

you wondered if they had a secret fight club or gambled. the only realistic options in your head, i mean what else could they have been doing?

when it was dinner, you couldn't find them anywhere.

it was as if they were invisible, you had previously waited for them to leave their room but they never did.

which caused you to wander around the castle, trying to find where they were without getting caught.

the last place you thought would have to be impossible. there was no way they would wander in the forbidden forest.

but then again, they were the most reckless people you knew.

so you were willing to look for them in there, i mean it wasn't harmless if you didn't wander in areas unknown.

you moved quickly, trying not to get caught. you went towards the whomping willow, staying far enough for the tree to not spot you.

after making your way past, you happened to spot the most beautiful view of the moon you had ever seen. suddenly, a stag ran past you, causing you to flinch.

a dog suddenly appeared in front of you, blocking you from something you couldn't spot it.

you could hear the squeaks of a rat and you turned back to see the stag in pain, a cut across its hip.

suddenly, you heard a howl that made you shiver. you turned to look where the dog was looking and saw something creep out of the shadow.

it was a werewolf.

and it was staring right at you, foaming at the mouth.

the dog began barking rapidly and the stag started to get up with a limp.

the stag began sprinting at the wolf as the dog looked at you, barking as if it knew you and was telling you to go.

you began running back to the castle as you heard something chasing you ten times faster. you felt a deep pain your leg as you fell down on the leaves.

there was a deep claw mark on your thigh, causing you to hiss in pain. the werewolf was looking at you, growling as you slowly tried to get back up.

you got back up, inching towards a tree as you kept your eyes on the werewolf.

the werewolf suddenly lunged at you, causing you to bring your arm up. it felt as if your lungs had been crushed by the impact of the tree. you tried to make a sudden fast movement towards a safe place.

this caused the werewolf to bite onto the middle of your arm, you had never felt so much pain.

you began screaming quite loudly as the stag head banged the werewolf causing it to be pushed into a tree.

the dog quickly chased after the both of them, trying to gain control of the werewolf.

you began crying so hard that the tears were blocking your eyes. your arm was a ghastly sight that shocked you so greatly.

you began to regain sight of what was happening, getting up and limping towards the castle as you did once before in the fastest way that you could.

you couldn't make it far before you fell down on the ground. you were on your backside and looked up at the sky to see the beautiful night sky, the moon decorating it so finely.

you could hear lots of commotion near you but you didn't have any more strength to see what was happening.

a tear rained down your cheek as your eyes slowly closed.

and it was all dark for now.

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everythingharrypotterblog · 2 months

Text

charmed [18]: 'the finale: part 2' (remus lupin x reader)

series masterlist here

join taglist here

a/n: here it is ;'). the culmination of 3 years. before i say too much, there will be an epilogue so that is some consolation to me. because im in complete denial that its ending. i've never completed a piece of work of this magnitude before, and its completely thanks to the amazing love and feedback you have shown me that has kept me going. stay alert for the epilogue:) but without more waiting, here is the final part of charmed.

a/n: oh also, because i try to keep it as canon and tight as possible: unlike in the movie, remus doesnt transform OUT of his clothes. if not, he'd wake up naked lol. also, the book says hogsmeade station is not next to the village. i used the video game version where they're side-by-side for plot convenience.

18.

After hours of darkness, dawn’s first light etched its way through the thick trees of the Forest. Wolf shrunk back down into man, and heavy with exhaustion, he passed out onto the soft mossy floor.

A few trees away, high up in the branches, laid a watchful dove, who had fallen fast asleep with her head under her wing.

Moments passed, and the sky began to lighten with coats of yellow painting over the dark hues of black. They both awoke. Y/N floated down to where Remus was and transformed back.

“You okay?” She croaked, grabbing onto his robes that had brand new tears in it from last night.

Remus nodded. “And you?” He cradled her head in his two hands gently and looked down at her stomach.

She nodded back. They pulled each other into a silent hug, their heads pounding and their hearts tight with fear. They were both terrified of what had happened last night, but they didn’t speak on it. They needed the last of their energy to make it back to the Castle, where hopefully, everyone from last night laid safe and would be able to retell everything.

Finally, they reached the Whomping Willow. After grabbing Harry’s cloak and the map they had left there last night, they made their way into the castle. Fawkes was there to greet them, perched upon the railing of the staircase. Y/N and Remus took this as a sign, and followed the bird through the quiet, dim castle into Dumbledore’s office.

“Thank you Fawkes,” Dumbledore said softly as they entered his study, petting him on the head as it returned to its stand. “Professors, you have had a long night.” He gestured to his large divan, on top of which Y/N and Remus gladly crashed.

“Headmaster—“ Remus cried out softly, the word shakily exiting his mouth in desperation and weariness.

“Do not fret, I will explain everything.” Dumbledore waved his hand, and two steaming cups of tea appeared in front of them, as well as a plate of small cookies. “Please.”

Y/N and Remus gratefully brought the warm liquid to their mouths, and squeezed each other’s hand as Dumbledore began explaining everything. He told them that Ron, Harry and Hermione were currently safe and sleeping in the Hospital Wing. He is unsure of the details on what went down after them two had gone into the forest, but the three children were brought into the castle by Snape, passed out on stretchers.

Dumbledore proceeded to explain that Hermione had been in possession of a Time-Turner all year long to attend extra lessons.

“All it took was a word of them freaking out over Sirius and Peter for me to understand everything. But of course, no one would believe the word of three 13-year-old’s and even less mine who had witnessed nothing. I had to maintain neutrality in front of Fudge. That is when I proposed Miss Granger the plan to turn back time. You might forget that one more innocent life was falsely accused last night. And thank goodness, Hermione and Harry succeeded. They snuck back into a presumedly locked Hospital Wing and Sirius took off on Buckbeak right before midnight, with Fudge, Macnair and Snape completely in the dark.”

Remus and Y/N finally exhaled the breath they had been holding in for hours.

“Thank God.”

“So he’s free?” Remus asked. “Sirius?”

“Yes he is, Remus.” Albus responded.

Remus leaned back into his seat, pressing his fingers against pursed lips. The back of his eyes burned. He nodded. He shut his eyelids for a second. His friend was alive. He was out there.

“God, this is such a mess.” Y/N shook her head, burying her head in her hands. “Pettigrew got away.” She looked up at Dumbledore with worry in her eyes. “What will this mean..?”

Dumbledore shook his head wistfully. “There is no way to know.” He paused in deep reflection for a second. “There is no way to tell right now.”

The three sat together in silence for some time. There was gravity in the air as to what a now free Pettigrew might imply.

“Professors.” Albus smiled warmly. “You have done greatly. I suggest you two get some rest. Before the whole school wakes up. I need to finish writing this letter to the Minister.”

They nodded and left after thanking him for everything.

Remus and Y/N walked slowly, hand in hand.

“At least he’s alive.” Y/N managed to smile, looking up at Remus.

He returned the smile. “He is. He’s out there.” He said, bringing Y/N’s knuckles to his lips.

“Now, come on, into bed.” Remus said almost sternly once they entered their room. He sat Y/N on the edge of the bed and bent down on one knee, insisting on untying her shoes for her. “This much stress can not be good for the baby.”

Y/N laughed incredulously, watching as he proceeded to remove her socks for her, then massaging her feet gently. She knew that whatever fatigue she was feeling, Remus had it 100 times worse, but she saw him push through it in attempt to make her more comfortable.

“Remus?” She said softly.

“Yeah my love?” He said, lifting her arms to pull off her shirt.

“I love you.”

Remus paused with her shirt halfway off. “I love you too.”

Y/N giggled, as her head was stuck in the fabric, but Remus didn’t care and leaned down to kiss her.

Finally completely undressed, Y/N flopped onto her pillow. She ran her hands across her pelvis lovingly. “Our little cub.”

She was so tired that she drifted immediately off to sleep, not noticing how Remus had frozen on the spot. “Cub” set off an alarm in him, a panic that he couldn’t quite shake. He closed his eyes, clutching his blanket tightly to his chest.

Y/N felt Remus toss and turn in the bed beside her. She ignored it the first few times, until the last one finally brought her back to full consciousness.

“Are you awake?” She grumbled.

“… No.” He whispered back.

Y/N opened an eye to peek at him.

Remus took a deep sigh and sat up.

“What’s up?” Y/N joined him.

“This… might sound stupid,” Remus began, “but I don’t know, you said something earlier that just really triggered me.”

“Oh?”

“You referred to our baby-“ Remus smiled slightly at the word and the thought, “as a ‘cub’”. He grimaced.

“Oh…”

“It just sent me in a panic and I haven’t been able to quite shake it— and the thoughts, they’re paralyzing me.”

Y/N listened carefully as he continued.

“I just think about me potentially passing down my condition to an innocent child- our child- and having it have to suffer so much, all because of me.”

“Hmm.” Y/N said. “Can I speak— is that all you wanted to share?”

Remus nodded.

“Would you still love my child even if it had the same mental health issues as me?”

“Of course, that’s not even a question.” Remus said.

“So what’s the fundamental difference between that and lycanthropy?”

“Well, you cannot compare the two, they are simply not— being a werewolf is dangerous to others.“

Y/N shrugged, “I could argue that a bunch of conditions can make someone dangerous to others. But yeah, I understand. Fundamentally though, this is our child. Ours, Remus. You and me. I’m going to love this baby so much, because it will be part you. Not in spite of that. And it may inherit some of your worse traits, but it will also inherit the things that make you-” Y/N cupped his face. “the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. If it inherits lycanthropy, it will just be one gene out of 5 million other ones. It won’t change a thing in how much I will fucking love them.”

Remus remained silent.

“Yes, it’ll come with its own challenges. But having a kid was never gonna be easy right? And it’s nothing we can’t prepare for? It’s not like tracking the moon and handling transformations is completely new to us. We would just have two little furry friends every month instead of just the one. And they can come to Hogwarts, just like you have. And they’ll experience all the joys and laughs and cries at this castle as we have. Plus, they will get to grow up in a time where Wolfsbane is more accessible.”

Remus looked half-convinced.

“Plus, the baby will be half me. Will you not love something that is half me?” Y/N pouted.

Remus chuckled, finally breaking, throwing his head to the side. “Of course, I’ll love it. I love things that are 1% you, I love things that aren’t even you but remind me of you.”

Y/N cooed.

Remus put his arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought her head to his lips. “I love you more than anything there is, and the only thing I would more is I fear, our baby.”

Y/N felt a tear creep up to her eyes. “Me too. So we’ll be okay, okay?”

Remus took a deep breath, feeling the air transition in and out of his body. “Okay”.

The fear wasn’t as strong. He kept holding onto Y/N, until the fear almost went away completely. And they fell back asleep.

Their time of respite was cut short by a knock on the door. Y/N stirred, rubbing her eyes. What time even was it? She turned to see Remus still deep in slumber. She smiled, and got up.

“Professor McGonagall!” She said in slight surprise to find her at their door.

“I’ve come to bring you breakfast,” Professor McGonagall said, carrying a tray with two plates on it.

“Oh, thank you! Come in, come in.” She ushered her in, letting her set the tray on the table.

“There is… something else I need to discuss.”

“Oh?” Y/N folder her arms across her chest.

Professor McGonagall sat down and ushered Y/N to take the chair next to her.

“Professor Snape, this morning… at breakfast… well— He told everyone about Lupin’s condition.”

Y/N swallowed. She took a deep breath. Then she began nodding slowly. “Everyone?”

“Well, he mostly said to the Slytherins, but you know the school: if one student knows, every one will know.”

Y/N nodded again, pursing her lips.

“I am really sorry, Y/N.” Professor McGonagall said regretfully. “He… he does not deserve this.”

Y/N merely continued to nod. “Thanks for coming to tell me this, Minerva.”

McGonagall stood, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

“And thank you for the food.”

Y/N watched the older witch leave and looked back at the bedroom door. She tapped her foot nervously. She checked the clock. Breakfast was still being served. She got up.

Most of the students were enjoying their meal quietly as the Great Hall was filled with a low buzz of morning chatter, cornflakes being poured into bowls and envelopes of morning mail being ripped open to read. Suddenly, the doors burst open, and Y/N came storming in.

“SNAPE!”

A hush fell over among the students, as they were slightly distraught to see their Charms teacher like this.

She spotted Snape at the teacher’s table, who had awkwardly set his goblet down. “SNAPE!” Her angry footsteps echoed off the walls of the Hall.

“WHERE do YOU get off, telling people about MY HUSBAND’s business?!!” She yelled.

There was a huge, collective gasp from the students.

“Are you this PATHETIC that you feel the need to stoop THIS LOW, and ruin Remus’ ENTIRE reputation? Based on WHAT? HUH? WHAT— are you mad that things, WHERE YOU HAD NO PLACE TO BE TO BEGIN WITH, didn’t go YOUR WAY? SOMETHING YOU WERE COMPLETELY WRONG ABOUT BY THE WAY— you didn’t even TRY to hear us out, but that’s just how you are, isn’t it? SO STUBBORN, I don’t know if you know this, SEVERUS, but we are ADULTS NOW. I COULD PULL THE SAME SHIT AS YOU AND EXPOSE SO MUCH OF WHAT YOU WERE— NO, ARE— but I won’t, I don’t want to waste my BREATH.”

Multiple professors had run down at this point to hold Y/N back, and were busy rushing her to the side and out of the room.

“I’d start with how you got that BUMP on your head, but that doesn’t even matter—“ Y/N fought, “and DON’T EVEN THINK of raising your wand at me, I am PREGNANT—“

The entire student population let out another gasp in unison.

“But again, it wouldn’t be unlike you to want to hurt A CHI-I-I-LD”.

The last word echoed through the doors as Y/N was pulled away by a swarm of teachers.

The Great Hall burst out into a swarm of loud, buzzing chatter as Snape quickly turned away and vanished from his seat.

“OH MY GOD?”

“WHAT JUST HAPPENED—“

“HER HUSBAND?!”

“AND SHE’S PREGNANT—“

“DID SHE REALLY MEAN TO LET SLIP THAT LUPIN IS HER HUSBAND OR—“

“I fucking KNEW IT! FINALLY!”

“BLOODY HELL, WE GOT A CONFIRMATION FOR REAL NOW THAT—“

“PROFESSOR Y/L/N AND LUPIN, I mean, it’s always been—“

“We BEEN knew—“

“HUSBAND?!!!!!!!!!”

Fred and George had risen to their feet on top of their seats with a large roll of parchment and began crying out: “Alright, listen up! Those who bet AGAINST Professors Y/L/N and Lupin, come pay up OR double or nothing— GENDER OF THE BABY! COME PLACE YOUR BETS, WILL IT BE A BOY OR GIRL, BOY. OR. GIRL?!”

It took Professor McGonagall 30 minutes to break up the hullabaloo of gossip-wired teens and dispatch the students into their respective common rooms where they could get ready for the Hosmeade visit scheduled that day.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the hospital wing at noon, and it was to find an almost deserted castle (courtesy of Professor McGonagall’s incredible crowd-herding skills). The students were all ushered out to the village and she hoped they would burn enough energy shopping and exploring.

Neither Ron nor Hermione felt like going, however, so they and Harry wandered onto the grounds, still talking about the extraordinary events of the previous night and wondering where Sirius and Buckbeak were now. Sitting near the lake, watching the giant squid waving its tentacles lazily above the water, Harry lost the thread of the conversation as he looked across to the opposite bank. The stag had galloped toward him from there just last night....

A shadow fell across them and they looked up to see a very bleary-eyed Hagrid, mopping his sweaty face with one of his tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs and beaming down at them.

"Know I shouldn' feel happy, after wha' happened las' night," he said. "I mean, Black escapin' again, an, everythin' -- but guess what?"

"What?" they said, pretending to look curious.

"Beaky! He escaped! He's free! Bin celebratin' all night!"

"That's wonderful!" said Hermione, giving Ron a reproving look because he looked as though he was close to laughing.

"Yeah... can't've tied him up properly," said Hagrid, gazing happily out over the grounds. "I was worried this mornin', mind... thought he mighta met Professor Lupin on the grounds, but Lupin says he never ate anythin' las' night...."

"What?" said Harry quickly.

"Blimey, haven' yeh heard?" said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. "Er -- Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'.... Thought everyone'd know by now... Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose on the grounds las' night.... An’ then Professor Y/L/N came rushing in, cussing Snape out and all that, cause he’s her husband you see. Don’t know where she’s at but he’s packin' now, o' course.”

"He's packing?" said Harry, alarmed. "Why?"

"Leavin', isn' he?" said Hagrid, looking surprised that Harry had to ask. "Resigned firs' thing this mornin'. Says he can't risk it happenin again.”

Harry scrambled to his feet.

"I'm going to see him," he said to Ron and Hermione.

"But if he's resigned —"

“— doesn't sound like there's anything we can do —"

"I don't care. I still want to see him. I'll meet you back here."

Lupin's office door was open. He had already packed most of his things. The grindylow's empty tank stood next to his battered old suitcase, which was open and nearly full. Lupin was bending over something on his desk and looked up only when Harry knocked on the door.

"I saw you coming," said Lupin, smiling. He pointed to the parchment he had been poring over. It was the Marauder's Map.

"I just saw Hagrid," said Harry. "And he said you'd resigned. It's not true, is it?"

"I'm afraid it is," said Lupin. He started opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.

"Why?" said Harry. "The Ministry of Magic don't think you were helping Sirius, do they?"

Lupin crossed to the door and closed it behind Harry.

"No. Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives." He sighed. "That was the final straw for Severus. I think the loss of the Order of Merlin hit him hard. So he -- er -- accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast."

"You're not leaving just because of that!" said Harry.

Lupin smiled wryly.

"This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents.... They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you.... That must never happen again."

"You're the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had!" said Harry. "Don't go!"

Lupin shook his head and didn't speak. He carried on emptying his drawers. Then, while Harry was trying to think of a good argument to make him stay, Lupin said, "From what the headmaster told me this morning, you saved a lot of lives last night, Harry. if I'm proud of anything I've done this year, it's how much you've learned.... Tell me about your Patronus."

"How d'you know about that?" said Harry, distracted.

"What else could have driven the dementors back?"

Harry told Lupin what had happened. When he'd finished, Lupin was smiling again.

"Yes, your father was always a stag when he transformed," he said. "You guessed right... that's why we called him Prongs."

Lupin threw his last few books into his case, closed the desk drawers, and turned to look at Harry.

"Here -- I brought this from the Shrieking Shack last night," he said, handing Harry back the Invisibility Cloak. "And..." He hesitated, then held out the Marauder's Map too. "I am no longer your teacher, so I don't feel guilty about giving you back this as well. It's no use to me, and I daresay you, Ron, and Hermione will find uses for it."

Harry took the map and grinned.

"You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would've wanted to lure me out of school... you said they'd have thought it was funny."

"And so we would have," said Lupin, now reaching down to close his case.

"I have no hesitation in saying that James would have been highly disappointed if his son had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle."

There was a knock on the door. Harry hastily stuffed the Marauder's Map and the Invisibility Cloak into his pocket.

It was Professor Dumbledore. He didn't look surprised to see Harry there.

"Your carriage is at the gates, Remus," he said.

"Thank You, Headmaster.”

Lupin picked up his old suitcase and the empty grindylow tank.

"Well — good-bye, Harry," he said, smiling. "It has been a real pleasure teaching you. I feel sure we'll meet again sometime. Headmaster, there is no need to see me to the gates, I can manage...."

Harry had the impression that Lupin wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

"Good-bye, then, Remus," said Dumbledore soberly. Lupin shifted the grindylow tank slightly so that he and Dumbledore could shake hands. Then, with a final nod to Harry and a swift smile, Lupin left the office.

“After you, darling.” Remus said, holding the carriage door open.

“Thank you.” She hummed, taking Remus’ outstretched hand and climbing into the carriage.

They settled into their seats and the Thestrals began to move. They looked out the window, watching the Castle grow smaller and smaller. Tears rolled down Y/N’s cheeks.

She turned to face forward, slumping into the back of her seat and sighed. She glanced at Remus, who was staring back at her. She pouted.

“You don’t have to come with me, you know.” He began.

She shook her head.

“You can finish the term properly, hand out grades, enjoy the end-of-year feast…”

“We’ve talked about this, Rem.” She cut him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I wanna be with you. Don’t want you to be alone right now. Plus, if you think I didn’t ask the house-elves to cook up something for me…us…”

Remus laughed incredulously as Y/N showed him the contents of her bag, which included a few wrapped sandwiches, several pastries, a banana and an apple, and homemade candied almonds.

The two wistfully looked out the window.

“I want to tell you, Y/N, that—“ Remus looked down at his hands. “This year might have been the best year of my life. Of course there were other happy years in my life, like some at Hogwarts as a child, or when I met you, but…”

He pursed his lips together and looked back at the Castle. “There’s something about being back here… with you this time… Hogwarts was the first place I had ever found joy. And friendship. And being able to revisit it so many years down the line as a man, and experience it doing something I love with whom I love, also doing what she loves…”

His voice broke as he covered his eyes.

“Oh, Remus.” Y/N grabbed his hand. “I feel the same way. I didn’t really know you when we were first here. But being able to experience Hogwarts with you, it’s been… well, magical.”

Y/N looked at him intensely through glassy eyes. “Oh, and I hate that it has to end like this, I do, no I do—“ She reiterated as he began shaking his head. “Because, you don’t tell yourself this enough, but you have so much to be proud of this year. I’m so proud of you. You’ve accomplished something so special here, you might not see it but I do, I’ve been seeing it all year. You were so important to those students. I literally heard it everyday- in the hallways, in the classrooms, in the library- how much they loved you.”

Remus was full on crying now.

“You.” Y/N said, jamming a finger into his chest. “I have loved this year because of how much it has brought me back to, but it’s been everything to watch you shine. Because of simply who you are. You’ve gotten too used to hiding in the shadows. And I felt like falling in love with you all over again.”

They engulfed each other in a hug as they both cried into each other.

Finally, the carriage came to a halt. The two came apart, sniffling, wiping their wet faces on the sleeves of their robes.

“God, we’re such saps, aren’t we?” Remus let out a wet chortle.

Y/N did the same back.

They both stepped out, with their bags onto Hogsmeade Station. The train had just arrived for them, blowing steam in a loud whistle.

Remus took the bags and began climbing on with them.

Out of the corner of Y/N’s eye, she saw dozens of students on Hogsmeade’s main street, in the middle of their weekend visit. A few of them seemed to be looking back. Recognizing who they were, she gave a big wave with her entire arm. They all waved back. And suddenly, they began growing larger. They were running towards the train platform.

“Oh my God, they’re coming…” Y/N muttered as the mob of students trampled into the station.

A dozen “Professor Y/L/N!”s broke out in different voices.

“Where are you going?”

“We heard you’re pregnant!”

“Is it true?!”

“Will you be back to teach next year?”

Y/N beamed at them as she looked in each of their faces. There was a mix of all her students, from all years and all houses. She felt a pinch of sadness to see that Harry, Ron and Hermione were not present.

“You guys…” Y/N took a deep breath. She put her hand on the shoulders of the two students nearest her. “Yes, I am pregnant.”

There was a collective whoop.

“So, I don’t see myself coming back next year as I would be on maternity leave.”

There was a collective “aw” of disappointment.

“What about Professor Lupin?” said a timid 1st-year.

Y/N smiled sadly. “I… don’t know, sweetheart.”

A shared expression of sadness fell upon the group.

“You know, we’ve been really depressed after hearing about Professor Lupin.” Seamus said, kicking his feet. “He was the best Defence teacher we’ve ever had!”

Remus had his ear pressed against the train door. He felt his heart clench. Y/N looked back at him and cocked her head slightly. He stepped down onto the platform.

The group of students erupted in cheers. “Professor Lupin!” They broke out in a cacophony of praise and sadness about his departure.

Remus bowed his head down in humility. He was at a loss of what to say. “I… thank you everyone. I am most glad that you have learned this much with me.”

A first-year stepped forward hesitantly, then lunged to hug Remus. Taken aback for a second, Remus then chuckled kindly and returned the hug.

“WE’RE GONNA MISS BOTH OF YOU SO MUCH!”

They then divided into two groups, one to group-hug Remus and the other, to Y/N. The two couldn’t stop laughing of glee, watching the scene unfold.

“Can we write letters to you when you’re gone?!”

“Of course you can.”

Finally, the train whistled and it was time for Y/N and Remus to board officially.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us all year you two were married, by the way.” A student finally said.

Y/N laughed. “Yeah…” She took Remus’ hand. “But I hear you guys were quite keen on figuring it out.”

With one last goodbye, Y/N and Remus climbed up onto the train. They took their seats and waved back at the students through the window. The train tugged forward, and several of the students sprinted and ran across the train, tapping on the window.

Y/N and Remus laughed with tears in their eyes, watching them slow down and stop as finally the train turned out of the station and away from the platform. From afar, they could see a small McGonagall-shaped figure whisk all the students away and back into the village. The figure stopped for a moment and looked at the train. She nodded and waved.

The train picked up speed and within seconds, Hogsmeade was replaced with tall sets of trees on both sides.

Y/N looked at Remus. He smiled. Taking a deep breath, Y/N closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder.

Remus sat there wide awake. He watched etches of forest zoom past them in the window. The train turned a corner and the trees dissipated, freeing the view upon the other side of the lake. The sky was impossibly clear, as tones of light blue filled his vision. Sun glistened atop the water’s reflection. He watched the scenery and thought back to his year, with a bright golden ball of light glowing in his chest. He knew it was going to be difficult to predict when he’d see Hogwarts again. But once again, it had changed him for good. And his future shined impossibly bright ahead.

With this feeling of warmth and hope, he closed his eyes and joined Y/N in her slumber.

#charmed #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #professor lupin x reader #prisoner of azkaban

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