Nicknames (When alive): Honey, bee, red, riding hood, doll face
Nicknames: (When in hell): Hell's first starlet. Starlet, Doll, Hell's favourite doll, The friendliest sinner in Hell, The radio demon sidekick
Former Name: Faith O'Connell
Year of birth: 1907
Birthplace: Dublin
Year of death: 1936
Age when they died: 29
Years in Hell: 83 years (by the start of season 1)
Pronouns: She/Her
Gender Identity: Cis-Woman
Orientation: Bisexual
Occupation (In life): Performer of Speakeasies, singer, dancer, and she wanted to be an actress, with several odd jobs to support herself
Occupation (In Hell): Was one of Hell's earliest prominent actresses and movie stars, specialising in slapstick comedies or song or dance movies where she was the eye-candy. Unknown to most of Hell, Faith took over the role of Overlord of film after the previous one "disappeared". As head of Hell, only non porn studio Faith wears a lot of hats as celebrity face, producer, actress and Overlord.
Type of Demon: Sinner (doll demon)
Sin: Murder
Appearance (When alive): A tall woman with pale skin, with curvy if slightly scrawny frame, a narrow face with large dark green, her red hair is kept the to bob cut, despite her limit funds Faith use the resources and skill in dress making to keep up the trends of the 1920's to 1930's and fully embraces the flapper identity especially in her looks when performing and rarely seen without a cigarette in hand.
Appearance (Sinner from): Faith Mori is one of the most human looking sinners at first glance, her grey skin that was slightly too smooth and black thin indent lines around all her joints and waist reveal her doll like form, her dark hair hair and dark eyes add to her doll look as well looking as if she came out black and white photo. Unlike in her mortal life, Faith's clothing is more of a costume, still keeping to her era, but more theatrical than in life. A dark blue drop-waist flapper dress with black tassels and black trimming, creating a geometric design; a black fur shawl; black dance shoes with blue gems and blue feathers attached to the back straps. Around her neck, a black lace, elegant choker with a blue gem in the middle, intricate black chains, blue teardrop earrings, and finally a dark blue headband with gold embroidery, a large blue gem with a gold tassel, and blue sparkling feathers. Never seen without her long black cigarette holder
History Records: From a true crime podcast
Not much is known about Faith Mori's life outside the scant details and faint records; indeed, it seems she preferred it that way. The youngest of a family of Irish immigrants, Faith must have quickly learned to pretend to be American if she wanted to survive losing her accent and her last name. Having moved to New Orleans for work, Faith quickly took on several jobs to support herself. She was reported to be friendly, always willing to smile at anyone, and to know everyone's face and name. She was a known performer in the speakeasy scene, singing, dancing, and playing guitar, and was often seen with a piano player, a Creole man named Alastor. They were considered a double act for a long time until he was killed in a hunting accident.
There is little known about Alastor in the historical records, but there were rumours that he was involved in several disappearances in New Orleans. One thing is confirmed: Faith Mori didn’t come back to New Orleans after his funeral.
Most of the historical records relate to her time in California, including her work as an extra in several movies before her first breakout role in a lost movie titled "That funny doll." All that remained was a photo test of her in costume as a flapper.
The night that lead her name to be put on map was in 1936 -it all happen in her small apartment, when a man named Doctor Jonathan Flint who been stalking Mori for months broke in, according to police reports signs of struggle but he gave have her one too many blows to head.
In a panic Doctor Flint must have decided chopping her body with a bone saw was better then prison, the police quickly found him placing the pieces of the corpse in a trunk after there was serval calls hearing strangers noises The murder left police baffled as to why a mild manner doctor suddenly became obsessed with a woman he met once, but murder of one Hollywood most upcoming stars lead this case to be one of the most interesting of true crime when it comes to Hollywood
Personality: Faith was a driven, ambitious woman, using her scrappiness, talent, and charm to get what she wanted - her life ambition was to be a performer, loving to make people laugh, and she wanted to be in movies.
Now, as the overlord of Movies, she is sometimes called the friendliest sinner in Hell, knowing someone in every corner of Hell, and a born entertainer making movies for the Hell population, which has made her a beloved celebrity known for her comedy skills. Most assume she is one of the weaker overlords since she doesn't get into turf wars and is mocked for being considered the Radio Demon sidekick, being a close associate (or more, depending on who you ask).
Of course, that hides her true power; that power is knowledge. Faith uses her people skills to gain knowledge and favours. She learned from an early age that people don't ask too many questions of a friendly and kind face. She doesn't have a sadistic streak like most in Hell, preferring to deal with problems in a non-violent manner when possible. A sharp mind and stubbornly loyal to fault, one would be foolish to take advantage of her charitable nature or worse, betray her - then she shows a cold fury or pure blind rage.
As a talented actress, Faith can navigate Hell’s class system, taking on different roles as needed. She is usually friendly and polite, with a slightly dry sense of humour, and speaks in old-fashioned language; her movements are somewhat dramatic and poised. Her comedy mainly focuses on using her doll-like body for slapstick.
Skills:
•Dancing
•A guitarist
•Singer
•Can play the piano (was taught by Alastor).
•Charismatic
• Can twist all her limbs and joints without pain, as a doll could
•Even by Sinners' standards, a high pain tolerance.
•Can easily remove or pop out her limbs or simply fall apart if she is not careful
•Has a stronger memory for names and faces
•Overall power as overlord
• Can conjure red strings and use them to control others like a puppet or break bones
•Can teleport
•Skilled with a gun
•Can use her strings to throw objects, and can use them to give herself extra strength in a fight
•Sewing skills
•Acting skills
•Can use her skills to mimic accents, vocal patterns and sometimes voices
•Can disguise herself when needed
Likes:
•Jazz music
•Liquor
•smoking
•Partying
•Making friends and connections
•The art of performing
•The art of making movies
•Being shown respect
•Hanging out with Alastor
•Finding people's talents and encouraging them
•Making some mischief with Niffy, Alastor.
•Learning about new Movie tech and techniques
•Learning about people
Dislikes:
•Doctors (for obvious reasons)
•Being patronised or condescended to
•Anyone who breaks her boundaries
•Being treated as if her only talent is being eye candy
•Jokes about her being a sex doll
•Any new tech that is not related to her field (she refuses to get a cell phone)
•Fans who cross the line
•Assuming she takes any orders without a thought from Alastor
•Cruelty for the sake of it
Relationships: (Pre-Season 1).
•Alastor: Faith's oldest and closest thing to a best friend and sometimes romantic (even if he would never dare say it), they are a double act, and despite being treated as his sidekick, Faith usually indulges the dynamic, helping with his schemes or his possessive tendencies - to a point
•Rosie: Faith is not sure what to make of her, but she keeps being friendly, so she doesn't become her dinner. For the most part, Rosie treats her and Alastor similarly, as if they were a child enjoying that Faith is such a lady
•Her staff/Crew: Despite owning their souls as Overlord, Faith tries to keep professional and friendly relationships or find ways to make sure they enjoy work or use their talents; she tries her best to treat them well and keep them protected.
•Blue Sage: (Oc by @callmemama): Faith's bodyguard and close associate, despite being similar in age, Sage is more rash and impulsive than her. Faith appreciates how brutally honest she can be, with her snarky personality
•Other Overlords: Faith is either on neutral or good terms with most of them, since, despite being a close associate of Alastor, most see her as relatively harmless to their power or a helpful ally.
•Husker: Husker and Faith had an odd relationship, despite Alastor owning his soul; Faith is cordial despite his grumpy personality.
•Mimzy: Faith enjoys her company but keeps her at arm's length, finding her nothing but trouble, though she usually puts up with her for Alastor's sake
•Niffy: Despite the little demon's questionable sanity, Faith is usually friendly and indulges Niffy's odd habits, and has usually been able to go with the flow with Niffy
•Vox: Once considered a friend, ever since his falling out with Alastor, Faith has turned sour on TV head demon's obsession with new tech and the radio demon, he gets under her skin like no one else can, especially after he tries to get her to join (Alastor thinks it's cute he annoys her so).
Valentino: She finds him usually creepy since he has no respect for boundaries and treats her like an object. She learned not to show her disgust towards the Moth, but she had been dealing with this dynamic with people well before her death
•Velvette: Faith doesn't have much thought on the youngest Vee finding some of her behaviour rather annoying, and she has no interest in social media or her fashion advice (they may or may not have drunk sex once).
•Sir Pentious: Finds the snake more pitiful than a threat, she usually plays along with his delusions that he is dangerous and evil, not having the heart to tell him otherwise. Faith enjoys play fights with him, finds his eggs bois adorable:
•Cryis: The previous Overlord of Flim, Faith is more than happy that most of Hell has forgotten about him, "dead" and buried
People who been tagged (if wished to be tagged please let me know ❤️: @callmemana
Series Summary: FRIENDS but with Harry Potter characters after Hogwarts graduation, trying to figure out their lives and relationships. Non Voldy AU.
Pairing(s): Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader, Ron x Lavender, Romione
Warnings: Language, mentions of food, drinking (legal), mentions of sex, nudity
Summary: As Hermione hustles to interrupt Ron and Lavender’s wedding in New York City, Fred and Y/N have a heart to heart which quickly turns into something much more.
Word Count: 4.8k
A/N: This may or may not be 9 days late (my b) but it’s the 5th and final fic in Abby’s Week of Weasley !! The FRIENDS series will continue!
Message me to join the FRIENDS taglist or my general taglist
Series Summary: FRIENDS but with Harry Potter characters after Hogwarts graduation, trying to figure out their lives and relationships. Non Voldy AU. Begins around the end of FRIENDS season 4 with The Wedding (except this first one) and semi follows plots in season 5. Partially inspired by @lunalovecroft but follows different episodes and plots.
Pairing(s): Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader, Romione, Hinny, Georgelina
Warnings: Mentions of food/drink, suicide joke (very brief and light, nothing graphic), slight language, mentions of sex/strip clubs
Summary: It’s been 3 years since Y/N graduated from Hogwarts and moved into an apartment in Diagon Alley. Her life with her friends is simple and predictable, until a girl she hasn’t seen in years walks through the coffee shop door.
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: My first fic posted to tumblr! Probably going to be a 5-10 part series I haven’t decided yet
AO3 Request: Hi! Could I ask for the reader x regulus, where the reader is Harry’s sister and they come together before the fifth year to Sirius’ house and she spends with Regulus alone in the library at Grimmauld Palace?
Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader
Rating: T
_________
Confusion…
This summed up Regulus’ entire existence. From going to destroy a Horcrux to waking up in a totally different decade, Regulus was in a word of confusion. Sitting in his parent’s library at 18 years old was not the way Regulus envisioned his life going. Finding out that Sirius was thrown into Azkaban for a crime that he didn’t commit and was now in his 30’s was nothing that Regulus expected. Now Regulus was in a house full of people that he didn’t know in the middle of a time he didn’t understand.
Regulus was looking at his hands when you stepped into the library. You automatically could see the uncertainty written all over his face.
“Those are your hands.”
You commented. Regulus’ head snapped up as he scowled at you.
“No kidding.”
Since arriving at Grimmauld Place, you had heard Regulus say a total of 15 words. He usually just sat around glaring at people so they stayed away from him. Sirius contributed this to Regulus’ waking up at the bottom of a lake still being 18 or just Regulus being his sullen moody self.
He’s always been crabby. I sometimes think that he is secretly a 50 something-year-old woman going through menopause.
You still silently laughed at Sirius’ comment on his younger brother.
pls tell me that ur going to do smth with remus inspired by the werewolf post you reblogged 🙏 p.s I love your work!!!
hahaha I think you're referring to this post, so here's a small little baby blurb for ya <3
Remus Lupin x fem!reader who doesn't want her to know too much about Moony [435 words]
CW: non-canon compliant description of werewolf behaviour, swearing [duh]
“Come on, Moons! Time to go!” James shouted as he burst through the portrait hole, officially announcing the end of your quiet cuddle on the three seater sofa with Remus.
Remus made a defiant sort of grumble as he sank impossibly further into the cushions, essentially dragging you down with him.
“Awe don’t do that.” Sirius said salaciously, throwing a wink in your direction. “Believe me, I’d rather be up here snuggling with Y/N too, but we’ve got plans for the night.” He explained, motioning with his head towards the sky no one could see through the castle ceilings.
“Sod off.” Remus muttered; his arms circling you tighter at the insinuation you’d be snuggled up against any other bloke should he vacate the common room.
James let out a theatrical groan, but his shit eating grin gave way to the fact that it was all for show. “That’s what we’re trying to do, Moons. So let's go! We’re sodding off.”
“Can you explain to me again why you have to go to the shrieking shack for this?” You asked slowly, rubbing the back of Remus’ hands that were locked around your middle in equal parts placation and encouragement to let go.
Remus never had a chance to respond before Peter piped up. “S’cause Moony’s not housebroken.”
“I am too housebroken.” Remus shot stubbornly, causing Sirius to snort.
“Sure, Moons. I bet that’s why the only thing left of the cushions from the old sofa in there are all the feathers strewn about.”
“There was something in the cushions!” He insisted.
“Right, and we totally found whatever it was.” James agreed sarcastically.
“It’s not only the furniture that’s not safe - he’s scratched the shit out of the walls and floors too.” Peter continued.
“Minnie would not be happy to find the Gryffindor common room in such a state.” Sirius added solemnly.
“Okay…” Remus relented slowly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not housebroken.”
The three Marauders stared at Remus with different levels of bemusement.
“Rem, Moons is so territorial that I’m pretty sure if Y/N joined us, you’d be lifting your leg to-”
“Okay that’s enough!” Remus spat quickly; lifting the entirety of your weight off his lap and placing you back onto the sofa. “Sorry, dove. I’ll see you in the morning.” He murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to your head before turning and shoving Sirius towards the portrait hole.
“Don’t worry,” James insisted as he walked backwards in the direction of his friends. “We’ve been working on him with positive reinforcement, but it’s slow going; he’s really quite dumb as a wolf-”
summary: regulus slowly realizes his five-year-old daughter, elara, is far more like him than he thought. faced with her sharp tongue, relentless sass, and fiery temper, he discovers she carries his stubborn streak and intensity, making every tantrum maddening.
warnings: regulus and reader are married, argumentive remarks, toddler tantrums, painting on walls, regulus and his daughter centered, bickering, sassy child behavior, parental frustration, mentions of regulus abused as a child, inspired by the song sienna, strong language from a child, a shit ton of crack and fluff <3 masterlist
find more of father!regulus with elara here!
What a terrible load of attitude, where on earth did this five-year-old get it from? Regulus thought, leaning against the doorframe of his daughter’s pink-walled bedroom, arms crossed, lips tight with equal parts amusement and exasperation.
Elara was mid-tantrum, shrieking and flailing with all the conviction of a tiny hurricane, over the fact that he had taken away the paintbrushes and stopped her from ruining her bedroom wallpaper.
He had done nothing more than tell her to behave. And yet here she was, stomping her small feet, flinging sentences at him, cheeks red with indignation.
Elara strutted over to the shelf, tiny hands reaching for the brushes, and he grabbed them first.
“Fix your attitude, brat!” he snapped, raising his voice in a way that could make kindergarteners faint on the spot. Usually, this worked like a charm. Usually, kids scrambled, wide-eyed, retreating to corners at the sight of him.
All except Elara.
She stuck her tongue out at him while she yelled some nonsense about not being a brat, barely understanding what the word means. It could be a good thing, but as long as she goes against what Regulus says, she’s happy.
The audacity. This tiny human, this miniature version of himself, completely unfazed by the father who normally inspired terror in small children.
She crossed her arms, glared, and screeched, “It’s my room! I can make it pretty however I want! You don’t even understand color like I do!”
She jabbered on, pointing at the shelf, stomping, waving her tiny fists. Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose.
He could not believe he was bickering with a five-year-old. His five-year-old. A five year old who probably eats her own boogers and can’t even write her own name on paper, at that.
Regulus regretted being left alone with her.
You had gone to your nail appointment an hour ago, leaving him with instructions to “keep her occupied and away from trouble.” Clearly, someone had grossly underestimated the firepower of Elara Black.
He crouched slightly, trying to meet her eye level, voice soft but strained with patience. “Elara. You cannot—cannot—ruin the walls, alright? Paint is for paper, not wallpaper. If you want, I could get you some coloring paper or even a canvas to paint on. Do you understand?”
She crossed her arms, tapping her tiny foot like a storm cloud. “No!”
Regulus took a steadying breath, trying to reason with her. “Look, just because you feel like it doesn’t mean you can draw wherever you want. This wallpaper was here before you were born. It’s special. You can’t just—”
“But Repunzel does it!” she shot back, eyes blazing.
Regulus argued back immedeitly. “You are not Repunzel. Just because she draws on her walls doesn’t mean you should.”
She threw her hands on her hips, voice rising, “Yes I can! I’m a princess too!”
Regulus groaned, jaw tight. Then, mirroring her posture, he planted his hands on his waist. “Oh yeah? So you’d go and kiss a frog just because some princess did it?”
Elara crossed her arms, brow furrowed, muttering to herself in that stubborn, half-coherent way only a five-year-old could manage. “Ugh! You’re just like Mother Gothel… always telling me what I can’t do.”
Regulus had no idea who the hell Mother Gothel was. He hadn’t the faintest clue where she came from, though he could clearly assume, based on Elara’s tone and dramatic mumbling, that it was some villain from one of the Disney movies she watched.
And yet, there he was, standing in her pink, princess-themed bedroom, desperately trying to maintain the image of a competent, reasonable father, and somehow he had been compared—of all things—to a Disney villain.
The audacity of this little girl was astonishing.
She was far more spoiled than any child he’d ever encountered. Every toy she could dream of, every princess dress she could demand, always at her disposal. She did everything she wanted, and both he and you made sure she was happy at every turn.
He did love her. God, he loved her to the very edges of his soul. She was his little girl, his baby, the living, breathing embodiment of everything he held dear in the world.
Every small laugh, every stubborn glare, every tiny hand tugging at his sleeve was a tether to his heart that no force could sever.
And for her—oh, for her and for you—he would move mountains, bend the rules of the world, even face whatever danger came his way without a second thought.
Even in her fury, though, he could see the glimmer of his own stubborn streak reflected in her dark eyes, the same fire he’d carried at her age—or perhaps, the same fire he still carried. It was infuriating, maddening, and yet, deep down, it made him smile despite himself.
“Listen here you little shit,” he said finally, standing taller, brushing imaginary dust off his pants, “we’re going to do this my way. Paper or canvas only. Got it?”
“Paper is too small!” she exclaimed. “My pictures need lots of space! Walls are big! Big is better!”
Regulus couldn’t comprehend how the hell you did that whole gentle-parenting bullshit.
It wasn’t that he condoned the harsh methods his parents had used on him—he would absolutely rather drown and be dragged to the depths of the ocean than raise his daughter the way he had been raised.
But then again, his daughter was anything but cooperative. He could try sweet-talking her, or even lay down a firm lecture, and she still would not fucking budge.
If he complimented her pink shoes, the little shit would immediately swap them for another pair, just to piss him off. That was how petty she was.
Somehow, she reminded him of his brother Sirius—but only in pieces, never fully. She was a living mosaic of everyone he loved and knew, stitched together into a single, impossible little person.
Her eyes—bright, calculating, and almost too perceptive—were undeniably yours, carrying that same sharp intelligence and subtle warmth. But her hair, dark and curly, and her fair skin, mirrored his own perfectly, as though she were a smaller, softer version of himself.
It wasn’t just in appearance, though. She felt things acutely, her moods shifting like a storm in miniature—sensitive to the world in a way that was unmistakably him.
And then there was her temper: fierce, unfiltered, and unapologetic. She flared the way he had when he was younger, stubborn and unyielding, refusing to bend just because the world—or he—expected it.
Watching her, he saw a reflection of himself he hadn’t realized would ever exist outside of his own shadow.
It was as if she had vomited up all of his internal thoughts in human form, with the crucial difference being that she actually voiced them with no fear.
And, strangely enough, a raw, almost unbearable happiness twisted in his chest. Happy that she could unleash her chaos and demonic thoughts, flare her temper like miniature fireworks, and throw tantrums without fear—the way he never dared as a little boy.
Unlike him, who had once learned that expressing himself only meant bruises and blood, she could be entirely, fiercely herself—and he was grateful beyond words that his little girl felt safe enough to do so.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by her relentless babbling. She was whining about how he was a meanie, how she would get the paintbrushes back, and how Uncle Sirius and Uncle Barty were better because they’d let her ruin walls.
How the hell did this little girl have enough energy to talk nonstop?
At that, Regulus was completely fed up. Fuck gentle parenting.
He crouched to her level, meeting her scowl with one of his own. She stood with arms crossed, glaring like a tiny tyrant, wearing a tiara and a purple princess dress that somehow made her scowl even more ridiculous.
“Listen here, Miss Know-It-All,” he said, pointing a finger at her. “This wallpaper right here was custom made before your little ass was born. If your mother comes back from her appointment and sees it painted over, she will literally hang me for being an irresponsible, inattentive father. So if you want to ruin your own wallpaper, do it when she’s home. Not on my watch. Got it?”
Elara’s glare deepened. “No! I want to paint now!”
“No.” Regulus said firmly, tone ironclad.
She stomped her foot so hard the tiara bounced, and screamed, “Fuck you!”
Regulus froze, every muscle stiff. His breath caught in his chest as he slowly blinked at his toddler. A cold sweat prickled down his spine, heart hammering. He could already imagine you walking in and hearing her say that phrase.
It wasn’t just any phrase she could have picked up from the television, she’d learned it from him, probably saying it to either Sirius or Barty.
Regulus was as good as dead.
“Don’t say that,” he murmured, trying to remain calm, realizing that raising his voice wouldn’t work on this tiny hurricane. “It’s a bad word.”
“You say it,” she said matter-of-factly, her tiny brows furrowing in confusion. It dawned on him in that instant: she was repeating him.
“I’m an adult, princess. Don’t say that word ever again. Especially around your mommy.”
Regulus exhaled slowly, shoulders sagging. He rubbed his forehead, thinking that surviving ten more years of this tiny tyrant was going to require a lot of patience.
Elara was somehow also a very smart little girl. She might not be able to write her own name or pronounce her insults properly, but she was sharp. The little shit noticed immediately how tense Regulus had become, how his entire posture screamed panic over the possibility of you finding out she’d learned a bad word from him.
A wicked smile spread across her face. She twirled softly in her princess dress, giggling as she hid her grin behind her palms.
She had just realized she had a foolproof way to get her daddy in trouble.
She was about to open her mouth once again to unleash more nonsense directly at Regulus when the door to her princess-themed bedroom opened. You walked in, wearing a pretty dress, a fond smile lighting up your face.
Regulus’s moment of relief—and love-struck distraction—hit him like a punch. He watched you, utterly captivated, as you opened your arms for your daughter.
Elara’s expression instantly transformed into the picture of innocence. Her little legs carried her straight to you as she squealed, “Mommy! Mommy!”
You scooped her up effortlessly, pressing kisses to her tiny, puffed cheeks. “How are you, baby? Were you good to daddy?” you asked, brushing a stray curl from her eyes.
Elara beamed innocently. “Daddy taught me new words!”
“Oh?” you said brightly, a playful curiosity in your tone. “You did some studying together? What’s the word, baby?”
Regulus, already pale, went even paler. His heart dropped straight to his fucking stomach, palms slick with sweat, as if he were about to face certain doom. He knew he was absolutely done for.
The smile on your face dropped when she delivered the two words that would seal his fate:
“Fuck you!”
Yeah. Regulus would be sleeping on the couch tonight.
hi! i have this really cute idea for regulus x fem! reader. so reader is a animagus and it’s winter time so sometimes she’ll shift into a their animal form, preferably a cat, and goes seek out warmth. but reader is also besties with remus and knows he’s a werewolf, his body temperature runs a lot warmer then anyone else so she goes to room to cuddle. when that happens, regulus immediately knows they reader is with remus and, begrudgingly, goes to gryffindor to steal reader back.
when he gets there, sirius is pouring and complains to reggie that “your girlfriend is stealing my boyfriend” and regulus snaps back by saying “well your boyfriend is stealing my girlfriend” and reader and remus are amused but their bickering but don’t care.
anon. anon. i am giving you the BIGGEST kiss, you don't even know. this is perhaps the best idea i've seen in a while and so i love you. i will be thinking about this throughout all of winter, thank you.
Words: 3k
Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, references to previous black brothers angst, disgusting amounts of fluff, best friends can cuddle platonically regardless of gender i will fight you on this, background rosekiller and wolfstar, childhood best friend!remus, implied gryffindor!reader, sirius pretends to be jealous but is not
Note: read more about cat!animagus!reader's shenanigans with regulus, wolfstar and james in Sweet Like Honey; Karma is a Cat & Padfoot vs. Whiskers
When Regulus accepted Sirius’ attempt to mend their relationship, he had expected to get his big brother back in full and no more. The person who understands him best, the boy he needed to lean on – it was all he wanted to get out of it. Perhaps he expected to have to grown tolerant of his brother’s friends, but that was something he dreaded, if he at all thought of.
What Regulus had not expected was to be introduced to and fall head over heels in love with you.
Remus’ childhood best friend, the more reserved one of the bunch that he had always seen floating around with them, but whose voice he had never had to roll his eyes at, thus never interacted with. It bewildered him now how he once upon a time barely thought of you, regarded you.
Now he knew you were delightful, and Regulus was positively smitten.
It had been exactly what Regulus had never thought he would get – an easy love. Like your friends, you were open and honest and loyal to the bone, and it spilled over like honey into your relationships with those around you. Once you caught a glance of his clearly lovestruck eyes, you melted, and the puddle was caught delicately in his hands.
Since then, that is where he has held you. In the palms of his hands, close to his heart. He learned more than he perhaps wanted to know about himself during the process of opening up to you, and you showed him a patience he still is not entirely certain he deserves. But you gave him your time, your moments, your touches and your lips, and he received and received without complaint.
When the two most important people in Regulus’ life – one a fervent, natural devotion, another a sassy, passionate rivalry – were in the same hazardous circle of loud-mouthed Gryffindor friends, he eventually had to capitulate that he could no longer just tolerate them. They were family.
God, what love has cost him.
Regulus walked into his dorm room where you have spent more days than not for the past few months, and sighed defeatedly when all he finds there is Barty laying on top of Evan in some odd position that cannot possibly be comfortable.
“Hello to you too, Black. Thrilling to see you.” Barty’s voice was laced with sarcasm, but there was no menace there as of yet.
“Yeah, yeah,” Regulus grumbled as he threw his bookbag onto his bed and sat down. “You seen Y/N lately?”
“You mean since you were all snuggled up this morning? Nah.”
Regulus rolled his eyes painfully hard at his oldest friend, murmuring a soft sod off before tossing whatever was closest – his pyjama t-shirt – in Barty’s general direction, missing by a good metre. He is a seeker and not a chaser for a reason.
“What of it, Reg?” Evan mumbled, but it was distorted by Barty’s elbow being more or less shoved into his mouth. He could never sit still.
“Just figured she’d be here, ‘s all. She finished class before me.” Regulus falls down onto his bed, curls spilling onto the emerald sheets as he stares at the ceiling, picturing you there and then immediately kicking himself for being that down bad. Then reminding himself with the therapy-speech Sirius has been teaching him, love is a strength not a weakness, it’s good to feel your feelings. Yada yada. "It's been a long day."
“Maybe she got tired of your sorry ass.” Barty laughed at his own joke only to be smacked by Evan’s finally-freed hand.
“Or yours, you sod.”
“Nah, Treasure absolutely adores me.” Barty propped himself up to flash you both a grin. “See, unlike you, I’m fun.”
“Interesting word to substitute insufferable with.” Evan said, leaning his face up from underneath Barty, as if to intimidate him.
“You love me,” Barty drawled before kissing the blond soundly.
“Would you guys please stop flirting?” Regulus’ voice was closer to a groan than anything else. He pressed the backs of his hands to his eyes, seeing stars and thinking of you. Stupid poetic feelings.
“Just because you can’t keep track of your girl doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves.” Barty pointed an accusatory finger at Regulus. “I would classify that demand as rude.”
“Bite me.”
“Only if your girlfriend says yes.” This time it was Evan’s turn of tuning into Regulus’ torture.
“And she would.” Barty winks at him.
This time it’s a pillow Regulus throws at them, and it lands perfectly, smack in the middle of Barty’s face.
“Oi!” He calls as he throws it back. “Either you quit it, or you throw me your jumper, it’s freezing in here.”
“You’re literally in bed, Barty.” Regulus looks at him, unamused. “Just–”
He trails off, gaze falling from Barty to the wall behind him as he pieces the puzzle together and realisation dawns on his face. The other boys seem to have caught on as they both cock their heads curiously at him.
“Of course,” Regulus whispers, first in marvel and then it morphs into something between exasperation and disgust. “Of course.” At last, he gets a determined look on his face, slapping his palms on his knees as he sits up from bed and grabs his jumper to go.
“Excuse you, what just happened?” Barty says, increasingly louder throughout his sentence as he realises Regulus is headed for the door, thick wool jumper tucked under his arm. “Hey!”
Regulus throws the boys a look over his shoulder, smirking at them and shaking his head before shutting the door and walking off. He barely catches Evan’s “shush, you baby, I’ll warm ya” before he is out of earshot.
A man with a purpose and half a plan stalks off, beginning the treacherous journey from the Slytherin dungeons to the Gryffindor dormitories.
What is the single thing Regulus knows can keep you from him when you’re otherwise attached at the hip? The cold.
What is the one person you go to for anything and everything, especially dealing with the cold? A certain ragged boy with a wolfish smile that he knows is to be found only behind the portrait of an increasingly annoying woman.
“Password?” The Fat Lady asked, quirking a brow ridiculously high as she regards Regulus with a mutual disgust.
“Catulus leonis.” Regulus does not bother holding back the eyeroll at the ridiculous passphrase.
She looks at him a moment or five longer than she needs, almost as if considering not letting him in despite his answer being perfectly correct, before she finally swings open the door wordlessly.
Regulus mutters a harsh thank you, Pureblood upbringing having knocked some politeness into him he is just not able to forego, no matter how severe his beef – as Sirius says – with the woman is.
When he finally approaches the offending dorm, the door opens fast enough to knock some wind across his face, and he is met with a set of black curls and a superfluous frown that both match his own.
“Regulus. Thank Merlin.”
“Good to see you too, Siri. How'd you know it was me?”
"Recognised your footsteps. Now, c'mon."
Regulus pushes in past his brother and his eyes immediately find Remus Lupin’s bed. To the unaware, it would just look like the scrawny boy was innocently laying on his bed, head propped against a mountain of pillows and reading another one of his paperbacks.
However, Regulus knew better and could see the perfect girlfriend-shaped lump underneath Remus’ jumper, shielded by his arms as he held his book over his stomach.
Or, at least shaped like this rather specific form of his girlfriend.
“Hello, amour, I’ve been looking for you.” Regulus’ voice is addressed to the bump on Remus’ chest, but he looks up at him with a quirked brow and a smug smile tugging on the corner of his lips.
“Didn’t know we were on a pet name-basis, Reg. Good to know.”
“Absolutely not.” Sirius and Regulus chorus at the exact same time, and Regulus fights back the wince at how painfully similar they are in this moment.
“Reggie,” Sirius finally whines. “Your girlfriend’s been stealing my boyfriend for the past two hours. Do something!”
Despite having a very similar sentiment settled in his own chest, Regulus gives his brother a pull yourself together look as he comes up to stand beside him, near the occupied bed. “I’m fairly certain your boyfriend has stolen my girlfriend equally as much,” he tuts.
“Whatever, just do something.” Sirius waves his hand towards Remus’ still very relaxed state with something a bit too close to a pout forming on his face.
“There’s no need to be jealous, Pads, the poor girl’s just cold,” Remus chides, with a teasing glint in his eye that clearly shows he knows his boyfriend is being dramatic for the bit and not actually upset. "Gotta help 'er out."
“‘M not jealous. I’m needy.” Sirius’ deadpan stare is not affected by Remus’ laughter nor Regulus’ barely-contained snort.
“Glad you admit it,” Regulus says slyly, patting Sirius on his shoulder twice, who immediately shrugs his hand off with a scowl.
“Like you’re any better, you slithered all the way up from the snake pit to fetch her. At least I’m open about it.”
Before Regulus has the chance to retort, Remus puts his book down in his lap and reaches out a hand for Sirius, which he immediately takes. “I told you you could come lay in the bed with us, love,” Remus murmurs and swipes his thumb over the back of Sirius’ hand.
If he did not feel the same way, Regulus would have given Sirius hell for how he seemed to absolutely soften in the sunlight of his boy. “Yeah, I know, Moons, I’m just being theatrical.”
Remus laughs once more, and this time his chest rumbling results in a distinct prrrt! coming from the inside of his jumper. Up through the collar, cheek smashed against Remus’, comes the tentative head of beautiful grey-and-white fur and slow-blinking yellow eyes, still riddled with sleep.
“Good morning, amour,” Regulus coos, ignoring Sirius’ snort as he drops down to squat beside Remus’ bed so his face is lined up with yours.
You pur, stretching beneath the fabric, a single paw escaping beside your head through the collar as you roll over onto your back. Your eyes remained trained on Regulus, and though he knows cats can’t actually smile, he swears you were smiling at him.
“Sorry to wake you, princess,” Sirius drawls as he looks down at you from where he is leaning on the bedpost beside Remus. “But have you seeped up enough warmth for me to get my boyfriend back yet?”
You make a faux hissing sound before ducking your head down, so it’s just barely hidden by the collar.
Remus laughs heartily, setting his book completely away this time so his hand can come up to rest on your cat-form, petting you through his jumper. “It’s alright kitten, take your time.”
The exposed paw lightly hits Remus’ cheek in retaliation, and this time it is Sirius and Regulus’ turn to laugh at his expense. “Ow! I share my warmth with you and this is what I get in return?”
From the movement beneath the fabric, Regulus assumes you’re nuzzling your head against his chest in apology.
“Amour, I brought your favourite jumper of mine and promise to make you so much hot cocoa if I can steal you back. We can be in your dorm room instead of mine, it’s warmer in there, right?” A smile remains consistent on Regulus’ face as he talks to you.
Sirius pats him on the back, murmuring something about you’re so whipped that he doesn’t bother to pay attention to.
More movement beneath the fabric, and then suddenly your ears are poking out of the neckline again – because why would you make it easy for yourself and use the big exit, when you can squeeze your way through a tight opening? You’re a cat after all.
Remus seems to be thinking the same as he laughs while you attempt to climb out beside his head, soft fur brushing against his skin and making up for the occasional claw you use for traction.
Regulus attempts to bite back the coos as he sees more and more of you, recognising your movements as sluggish with sleep, no doubt coaxed into it by finally being comfortable.
“Thanks for today, see you again tomorrow, same time?” Remus teases, head turned towards you as you headbutt him lovingly, finally fully escaped from his jumper and standing on his shoulder. He nuzzles you back and scratches your head in goodbye.
Another prrrt! escapes you in greeting as you saunter your way across Remus and plop onto the small strip of mattress on his side where Regulus’ hands are open and ready to receive you.
“Hi, sweetie,” he whispers as you allow him to scoop you up into his arms while he’s still squatting beside the bed. He holds you like an infant, tight to his body and securely supported. You immediately begin to purr loudly, nuzzling your head even further into his neck and shoulder.
Regulus does not bother to hold back the slight giggle as your caresses tickle him.
“Good gods, are you two sappy,” Sirius groans, but when Regulus looks up, there is a wide grin on his face. A slightly teasing one admittedly, but a grin nonetheless.
Then, Regulus recognises where Sirius is grinning at him from – properly cuddled up besides Remus on the opposite side of the bed, arms beneath his jumper, soaking up the leftover warmth from you.
“Wait– how did you get there so fast?” Regulus’ voice is almost incredulous, stopping his greeting of you – earning him a harrumphing meow – to narrow his eyes at his brother. “I didn’t even notice you move from beside me.”
“What can I say; I am a dedicated man.” Sirius nuzzles into Remus’ cheek, not much unlike how you were mere seconds ago, albeit his involved a tad many more kisses.
“You’re weird, that’s what you are,” Regulus laughs as he stands up with you in his arms.
You turn around to look up at him with those big, slitted eyes of yours. When you extend your neck further towards his face, Regulus lifts you higher so you can give him the cat-kisses you so evidently wanted, his lips curling at your touch.
Sirius lifts a brow at the two of you. “Yeah. I’m the weird one.”
Regulus scoffs at him, but when you continue to caress your furry cheeks against his lips and chin, it is difficult for any menace to remain serious.
“Thank you for your deviant supernatural warmth keeping my girlfriend alive, Lupin, but I’d like to steal her away from you now.”
“By all means, Black, you’ve already stolen her from me once,” Remus harrumphs, pretending to be some scorned faux older brother but his eyes betray his facade; he is happy for you.
Regulus chooses to ignore it nonetheless.
“Brother.” He nods at Sirius. “Soon to be brother-in-law.” He nods at Remus. “We bid you goodnight.”
“Try not to undo all of Moony’s hard work by freezing her right back up with your freakishly cold feet!” Sirius calls after him as he heads towards the door. He then promptly gives out a soft yelp that indicates Remus corrected him in some physical way.
“Yeah, bye, doll!” Sirius adds, whispering more to himself, “he’s mine again now.”
You give out a tired meow that is so cute it makes Regulus’ heart clench with endearment. You cuddle properly up into the crook of his neck as he carries you out, softly closing the door behind him with a smile.
He shifts you in his grip so he can look down at you more carefully. “You are so unbelievably predictable. And even cuter than that again, which is saying something,” he murmurs to you and you respond with quiet meows.
He looks at you curiously. “Are you going to remain in cat form the whole night?”
Your tail twitches teasingly, your only other response is a quiet prrt as you close your eyes into the warmth of his neck again. He laughs, covering your feline body with his hands as he carries you, to keep the warmth in.
He sneaks into your dorm – thankfully often unoccupied as Marlene is with Dorcas and Mary is with Pandora – and settles you down onto your plush mattress and pillows. He undresses and gets ready for bed, while you’re resting your head on the pillow, observing him, but just before getting under the covers, he slips on his jumper.
“It’s so soft I could cry, Reggie,” you had whispered to him when you cuddled up to him when he wore it around you for the first time. “I fear I can never let you go now.”
Regulus slides under the blankets with a knowing smile, opening the hem, allowing you to creep under, chest against chest with your head poking out of the collar to rest at the bottom of his neck.
“I'm no werewolf, but I’ll keep you warm with my love, amour,” he whispered to you in the dark, one hand combing through your fur protectively underneath his own jumper.
He swears, he could hear the little cat snort against his skin.
It started when the new Top Gun class started. Tom "Iceman" Kazansky liked to introduce himself to the young pilots and assess who among them really had what it takes to be in the top one percent.
The classroom was filled with men, talking amongst themselves. Except for one young girl sitting towards the back, notebook open to a blank page and pen at the ready.
"She's going to be the one to watch." Ice thinks.
When he is introduced the men look star struck, while the girl gives a small smirk. Up in the air the pilots try to impress Ice knowing that the Admiral is listening to them. Except for her.
Baylie "Lucky" Steele didn't seem to care that such a high ranking official was paying attention to her. She just flew how she always did - meticulous and perfect. She ran the course the best, something the men of the room grumbled about.
At the end of the day he requested her presence in his office.
"Admiral Kazanky?" She asked entering after knocking.
"Just Ice will be fine, Lucky right?"
She smiles "that's me."
He offers her the chair across his desk. "Your flying is very impressive Lucky."
"That's a very high compliment coming from you."
He laughs off her compliment. "You'll give all those boys hell while you're here and I can't wait to watch it happen."
She smirks - a smirk he used to wear. "That's the plan Iceman, there's no plaque for second place."
After a few more minutes he dismisses her. Once she's gone Dragon walks inside the office.
"Ready to go home Tom?"
"With you? Always."
-----
The couple watches as Lucky impresses in yet another simulation.
"She's even better than you Ice." Dragon teases, bumping her shoulder aganist his.
"She's definitely better than you then." He teases right back, giving her that bright smile of his.
"She's one of the best I've ever seen."
"You paved the way for her, you and Whiskey both. You two proved that women can be Top Gun material, and allowed for another generation of girls to follow their dreams."
Dragon blushes at the compliment, "are you trying to butter me up Tom?"
"Is it working?"
"Depends, what do you want?"
"Can we please adopt Lucky?"
Dragon laughs out loud, "She's a grown adult!"
"So?"
-----
Lucky kept in regular contact with the two of them after Top Gun, and when the uranium mission came up her name was the first Ice put on the list. A decision he would slightly regret when he learns of her injuries. They helped her heal, they opened up their home to her, they loved her.
She was their Lucky girl, and she was damn lucky to have them as surrogate parents.
So it was to nobody's surprise when Lucky tells the Kazanskys that she's pregnant that they are beyond thrilled. They love their Lucky girl, but they love Hadley Kate Garcia even more.
-----
A/N: yes I in fact had to make this about Lucky. Why you ask? 😂
Alana knew the moment that Maverick announced Baylie and Javy as team leader and Dagger 2, respectively, that Jake would lose his temper. She had sat in on the long, and seemingly endless, meetings with the Admirals and Captains to determine who would be selected.
She cared for each member of the Top Gun class. They all had proven to be friends to her over the last year. However, her secret relationship with Jake meant she knew him a bit better than the other students did. She didn’t deny that he was a great pilot. He had demonstrated time and again that he knew how to fly and how to do so dangerously.
However, Alana also knew that he wasn’t the best at being a team player. There was no way she or the Admirals would agree to make him Team Leader. She also knew to prepare for his reaction after the announcement was made to them.
“What the hell!? Did you even try to get me recommended!?”
“I need you to calm down and lower your voice, Jake.”
“I’m the best pilot and I’m a fucking spare…? What the hell have I been sleeping with you for?”
“Lieutenant! That is enough! I am still your superior. Now get out of my office before either one says anything else we may regret.”
Jake just stays staring at her. “Our little thing… We’re done.”
“That’s fine Lieutenant. I always knew it would never go anywhere. Now please leave.”
Bradley had heard Jake yelling and was listening in by the door and scurried away when he heard Jake opening the door.
Alana doesn’t let herself cry. There were no feelings involved. All they were was just sex. But his words stuck and stung. ‘What the hell have I been sleeping with you for?’ At least now she truly knew how he saw her and their… relationship.
Alana continues her day with her office door closed. She only leaves to get something to eat. She never was one really to make friends easily with others so she often kept to herself.
To get to her car to leave the base for lunch, she had to pass by the men’s locker room. Unfortunately for her, the door was open and Jake was still angry and loud. “She’s a fucking bitch. It was just a few pity fucks to get her to recommend me. Not that I would ever really settle down with anyone like her.”
Alana turned to look towards the door, only to find him and a few of the other officers exiting the locker room. She kept her cool and composure as he pushed past her and none of the officers saluted or acknowledged her presence. She kept her head held high as she walked the rest of the way to her car.
As soon as she made it to her car, she allowed herself a few minutes to cry. She then wiped away her tears and went for her food.
Arriving back at the base, Alana went to get coffee from the rec room, only to once again find Jake there still complaining.
“Oh my goodness, Seresin, do you ever shut up?” Baylie asked.
“Who the hell did you fuck to get picked?” He yells back at her.
“You’re the one sleeping with people in higher ranks trying to get that lead position,” Bradley says in frustration.
Nobody in the room had seen or heard Alana come in until she spilled the hot coffee on her hand and yelped. She puts the coffee pot back and runs her hand until cold water.
“Just fucking great. You’re here to tell us we’ve been replaced? You probably slept with Cyclone or Mav to pick idiots to be the team leaders!”
Javy stood up in front of Jake and gave him a shove. “That’s enough man! Sit down and shut up.”
The whole Dagger Squad was there and they put two and two together, based on Bradley’s earlier comment to Jake.
Alana just shakes her head and leaves. Her coffee and lunch - forgotten and left behind. She locks herself in her office and finishes running the reports for the mission. She then works on her request for transfer.
Later that evening, the Daggers all met up at the bar to discuss what happened earlier.
“Does anybody really know who she is?” Bradley asks.
“She’s Cyclone’s right hand man,” Phoenix replies. “A quiet girl like Bob.”
Grace brings them their drinks and sits on Rooster’s lap. “What’s the latest gossip?”
“Jerk Jake caused a scene at the base and, according to Bradley, broke it off with his girl… Who he was only sleeping with to get the team leader,” Baylie says after downing her drink.
“Oof. That’s terrible!” Grace comments.
“Yeah I felt bad for her. She seems like a tough cookie but that his words did more damage than any of us can really tell.”
Meanwhile, Jake is drowning his sorrows at the bar. He picks up his phone to call her for a hookup that night. “Hi. You’ve reached Alana. I can’t answer your call now but please leave a message or text me.”
“Hey don’t ignore or block me… Call me back sweet face.”
Alana spots him across the bar as she feels her phone ring. She would love nothing more than to block him but because of the upcoming mission she can’t. So she pays for her drink and goes to sit next to Jake.
“Let me just say this Jake: I never expected or wanted to have anything serious with you. I knew our roles. Just fuck buddies. Not even friends. But I am still your superior. So I expect that respect on base. Outside of the base, don’t worry. I won’t chase you. I won’t call you. It’ll be like we never fucked.” She discreetly leaves next to his hand the key to his apartment that he gave her for their fuck sessions.
Alana waves at Penny as she leaves.
It’s not long after they’re all in the carrier and on the way to the mission. In the days prior, Jake kept trying to talk to Alana, but he always found her deep in her work or having the rest of the Daggers interrupt him.
The day of the mission finally arrives and he’s called in after Lucky and Javy get shot down. After searching, they get called back for a search and rescue mission.
It takes some hours but they find them both. Everyone celebrates their return at the carrier. When Jake looks up to the tower, he finds Cyclone, Warlock, and Cinco all looking down at them in relief.
It’s then he notices Cyclone gives Cinco a folder and they salute each other. He then sees Cyclone give her a tight hug. He storms off to her office once he saw her leaving.
“So it was Cyclone you were fucking!?”
“Lieutenant. I once told you that was none of your concern but since you refuse to believe me: Cyclone helped my grandfather raise me. He’s like an uncle to me. The closest thing I have to a father. This will be the last time ever I ask you to leave my office.”
“Think you can just ignore me?”
“It’ll be much easier to not have you accusing me of derailing your naval career from Japan.”
The days pass quickly and they arrive back stateside. Alana leaves for Japan as soon as she finishes packing.
Jake spends his evenings at the Hard Deck. He hears the most beautiful laugh he hasn’t heard in weeks and he turns to find Alana. Only when he finds the person laughing he sees that it wasn’t her. It was someone else. Carrie Underwood’s “Ghost Story” begins playing from the jukebox.
That’s when he knew he lost the only person that made him a better pilot and a better person.
summary: reader stumbles into the common room after a long night of 'sleep'. they try discovering who she slept with the night before.
wc: 0.7k
Lily sipped her tea as the marauders animatedly chatted around her in the common room, Marlene in a half-asleep state, head resting on Remus’s shoulder. “Hey, where is y/n, by the way?” Asked Sirius, taking a big gulp out of his own coffee, looking at your two dorm mates for an answer. “Sleeping.” Replied Marlene, blinking slowly. James twisted his his torso to glance at the big clock on the wall behind him, frowning. “It’s 3 in the afternoon.” Lily jolted up, as though having a revelation, and looked straight towards Marlene. “Also, who did she get with last night?” Now this attracted the attention of the other marauders, who instantly turned to stare at Lily. “She slept with someone!?” Whisper-yelled Sirius, glancing between Lily and Marlene.
Marlene scoffed, mumbling “She came back to our dorm at like 1am, and has been knocked out since. So yeah, she definitely slept with someone.” Remus furrowed his eyebrows “Sleeping for thirteen hours doesn’t necessarily mean she slept with someone.” Lily laughed, nodding ‘yes’. “Trust me, good sex can put a girl out for a good fifteen hours. We probably won’t see her until night comes.”
“Oh I bet it’s the Ravenclaw.” Marlene thought out loud, and Lily hummed in agreement. “I’ll bet it’s that Slytherin.” She challenged, digging a galleon out of her pocket. Marlene grinned, suddenly awake, and tossed a golden coin onto the table. “How- what!?” Questioned Sirius, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, here comes sleeping beauty.” Teased James loudly, earning a tired grumbled from you as you trudged down the stairs. Lily laughed at the sight of you, dragging your feet behind you, cuddling into your thick sweatshirt.
“So who’s the prince charming?” Marlene added, leaning over the table to high five James. Your eyes widened in a moment of panic, and you nodded your head across the common room. “What?” Asked Sirius, looking between you and the other two girls in the group. You gulped harshly, mumbling “Uh, I can’t say.” Lily and Marlene both had matching confused expressions on their faces, communicating ‘You always tell us though!’ You gave them a warning look, trying to subtly gesture towards Sirius with your eyes, but the second you looked his way, he had caught you.
“Hey! Why’d you look at me like that!” “No reason!” You squeaked, slumping down on the couch next to James, insistently avoiding Sirius’s eyes. “Is it the Slytherin then?” Asked Lily, a hopeful look in her eyes. “Well, uh, not the Slytherin.” You cleared your throat, shooting Lily a reprimanding look. “Oh my god, did you sleep with my cousin!?” Yelled Sirius, earning him a screech of “What!? Sirius your cousins are all girls!” But that had instantly revealed too much. Your eyes widened in realisation and Sirius straightened up, his jaw dropping. “Oh. My. God.” He started, pointing at you accusingly. “Did you sleep with my brother!?”
You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but nothing came out. Lily and Marlene gasped in unison at the revelation, and James and Remus shared a shocked look. You were already humiliated enough that the boy in the head below managed to whisk you into his bed, sharing secret kisses with you before bringing you pleasure until the early hours of the morning. He had walked you all the way up to the Gryffindor tower, cupping your face and kissing you gently for a long moment before pulling away and wishing you a good night. Your face had flushed, and you had promised him that he’d see you tomorrow. So, today.
“You slept with my fucking brother, oh my god.” You bit your lip, guiltily sinking back into the cushions of the couch. “One of my best friends just slept with my younger brother.”
“I’m sorry Sirius.” You tried apologising, “I really didn’t mean to he just, he just!” But the look Remus shot you was enough to shut you up, warning you not to cross any further lines. An awkward silence settled on the friend group. “Hey, was he at least good in bed though?” Marlene asked “Oh, god yes.” Simple to say, that response got you a pillow chucked in the face.
remus fucking lupin deserves so much better so i will attempt to appease myself by writing this.
support me thru ko-fi here <3
(professor!lupin x professor!reader) no underage or student shit
story summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.
Title: Look at you
Pairing: Fred x Reader
Summary: distance really does make the heart grow fonder.
Warnings: NSFW - minors DNI! This contains, vaginal sex, female receiving oral, breeding kink, mentions of cum marking, dirty talk, praise, mentions of sex toys/sexting and pregnant sex.
A/N: hockey!fred could hit me with his car and I would say thank you. Anyway as always this is dedicated to @darthwheezely b/c she always encourages my shenanigans.
The away games are always the hardest.
Fred is usually gone for a week, and between traveling, playing multiple games and the time differences they mainly communicate via text and maybe a phone call if they’re lucky. At first the lack of communication bothered Y/N. They moved across the country after Fred got drafted and it felt isolating to have the only person she knew in Washington unavailable most of the time. But now that Fred’s in the fourth year of his contract Y/N is a pro at handling the distance. Her and a bunch of the other WAGS always get together to watch the games at someone’s house, and usually do dinner or brunch on some of the days the guys are gone. And now that she’s working and more involved in the area she’s got plenty of friends and activities to keep her busy while Fred is away.
She figured this season would be just like the others, that it would suck while Fred is gone but she’d just keep busy until he was back home in their bed.
Until those two little pink lines stared up at her from the bathroom counter the night before training camp started. She wasn’t totally surprised at the result, considering her and Fred had been together for a decade, married for half of that and regularly relying on the pullout method as their main form of contraception. And of course they’d talked about having kids, but their general consensus had been that they would start trying once the season was underway, hoping to time it just right that their baby would be born at the beginning of the off season, so they could spend the first few months as a complete family unit before hockey took over Fred’s life again.
But of course life decided to say fuck their plans, and now Y/N is due to give birth just before playoffs begin in April.
Y/N had thought that having Fred gone during her first trimester would be the worst part of it, having to deal with morning sickness and those first few doctors appointments by herself. But the nausea and vomiting left her feeling so gross she was glad Fred didn’t have to see her like that, and they were able to work with her doctor so that Fred didn’t miss a single appointment.
It’s now, with Y/N into her second trimester that Fred’s absence seems to be hitting her the hardest. Her bump has finally popped, and she can barely keep her hands from stroking over the smooth skin at all hours of the day. The baby has started to move around too, starting off as gently flutters she assumed was gas that have now grown into distinctive pushes against her belly. Not to mention the nausea and vomiting that plagued her first few months of pregnancy have faded away, and Y/N finally understands what people say when they talk about pregnancy glow. Her skin is the clearest and softest it’s ever been, and her hair and nails look amazing thanks to her prenatal vitamins.
And just as she passed the five month mark her newest, and most annoying to deal with on her own, pregnancy symptom started.
She’s unbelievably horny every hour of the day.
Her newly filed out breasts constantly ache, and some days her nipples are so sensitive just the material of her bra sends a shiver down her spine. Her pussy is almost constantly slick, her clit throbbing and her cunt aching to be filled. Once the seam of her maternity jeans pulled so deliciously against her as she was driving that she nearly crashed the car as she came from that brush alone.
Everything seems to turn her on these days, no matter how inconvenient the time or place is.
Like right now, the guys are on the last leg of their longest away game stretch, the final game of a two and a half week trip, and her cunt is dripping as she watches Fred punch the other team’s center in the jaw. Not only is it inconvenient because she’s sitting on Melaine, the goalie’s girlfriend’s couch, but because Fred isn’t due back home until tomorrow afternoon and she passed out last night before she could put her vibrator back on the charger. And her own fingers will never live up to the memories of how worked up Fred gets after a fight, and how the only thing that seems to calm him down is taking Y/N from behind as he growls in her ear.
She tries to shift subtly as the ref throws Fred in the sin bin, his mouth still moving wildly as he throws insults at the other team, but when Rachel throws her a look Y/N knows she’s been caught. Rachel is the wife of one of the defensemen, and had been heavily pregnant for most of last year’s season, so Y/N figures she knows exactly how she’s feeling right now.
“Tomorrow afternoon can’t come soon enough,” Rachel teases, voice low enough so only the two of them can hear.
Y/N snorts in laughter, nodding in agreement. “You have no idea.”
-
Fred throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he rushes towards his truck, causing his teammates to laugh even harder. The bus had barely stopped before he was up out of his seat and making his way to the front, far too eager to get home to Y/N. Because the texts she’s been sending since he got off the ice last night have had him perpetually hard in his pants and the only thing on his mind is getting home to his wife.
He drives well over the speed limit on his way home, praying to whatever deity that exists out there he won’t get pulled over, since he’s pretty sure his urgent need to fuck his wife is not a good enough excuse to get out of a ticket. The car is barely in park as Fred throws the door open, hockey bag left behind in his haste to get inside. In a matter of a few seconds he’s barreling through the front door, taking the time to lock it behind him before he heads for the stairs.
“Baby?” he calls as he climbs, ripping his shirt off as he goes. He pauses to kick his shoes off, just letting them tumble back down as he continues up.
“Hi,” Y/N greets breathlessly when Fred appears in their doorway. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the way his jeans hang open, his cock clearly fighting against the material of his boxers.
Fred groans as he takes Y/N in, cock throbbing at the way she kneels on their bed in nothing but his jersey. The curve of her bump is visible even in the oversized garment, and Fred almost can’t believe that this is his life. He makes a living playing the sport he loves and every night he gets to come home to the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen who’s beauty has only grown as he watches his child grow inside of her.
“Fucking hell,” he practically growls as he steps into the room, his complete focus on Y/N. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are, wife? That picture of your pretty pink pussy all wet and begging for my cock has been driving me crazy. I couldn’t sleep knowing you were all alone in our bed, desperate for my cock wearing nothing but my jersey.”
Y/N practically pants as Fred stalks toward her, hands clenched in fists at her sides to try and resist the urge to touch herself. She had to give herself a pep talk before taking the photo she sent, so to see Fred’s reaction to it here in the flesh makes her cunt throb with want. Before falling asleep Y/N had managed to work herself up to a few weak orgasms with her fingers, but those are nothing in comparison to what she knows Fred is about to give her.
“Sexy?” she asks teasingly. Fred has finally made it to the edge of the bed, and she runs her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, resting her palms against the sides of his neck. “Even with my big old bump in the way?”
“Especially with your big bump in the way,” Fred practically purrs. He finally gives in to his urge to touch his wife, one hand hooking around her thigh while the other fists the front of her jersey, yanking her closer to him. “Just knowing that you’re full of my baby, that I did that to you is enough to make me cum, something I know you’re well aware of.”
And she knows Fred isn’t lying. He’d always been possessive in the bedroom, and it only intensified when she got pregnant. Once her bump popped Fred was like a man possessed, needing to have one hand on it at all times. He’s finished on her bump more times than Y/N can count, rubbing his cum into her skin so he can claim her fully.
Instead of responding Y/N lets Fred pull her into a kiss, her fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his skull as he nibbles on her bottom lip. He claims her mouth with his, crawling up on the bed so he can get even closer. The hand he had on her jersey makes its way up to cup her jaw, angling Y/N’s face so he can kiss her deeper, while the one that was on her thigh starts to travel further up.
“Fuck,” Fred moans into her mouth as his hand brushes her bare hip. “No panties? Dirty girl.” He lets his hand cup the swell of her stomach, thumb slowly brushing back and forth in a sweet gesture that is the total opposite of the way he kisses his wife.
“Please,” Y/N pants as Fred’s mouth finally leaves her’s, starting to press kisses into her neck. “Need you to touch me, Freddie, only feels good when it’s you.”
“Well how can I deny my wife when she asks so nicely?”
Fred kisses the juncture of her throat one last time before pulling away just enough so he can pick her up under her thighs. He positions her back on the bed just how he wants, her back flat against the mattress with her legs spread wide, a hand on each thigh to keep them open for him.
“You’re fucking cunt,” he groans, his eyes drawn to her slick pussy as he bites his lip. He sinks down on the bed so he’s resting between her thighs, thumb and forefinger spreading her pussy apart to put her clit on display. “This pussy is going to be the death of me.”
Y/N gasps as Fred finally puts his mouth on her, hips nearly lifting off the bed as he sucks her clit between his lips. Her toes curl as his tongue flattens against her, thighs already quivering as Fred’s thumb presses against her entrance. “God, please, Fred.”
That’s all the encouragement he needs to fuck into her with his index finger, curling it to press against the front wall of her cunt, right against the spot that has her moaning his name. His cock twitches as Y/N’s hand tangles in his hair, curling his tongue around her clit as she tugs.
“Such a good girl,” Fred praises as he presses another finger into her slick cunt, letting his thumb rub small circles into her clit. “I love this pretty pussy so much, wife. Gonna eat it every fucking day of the week.”
He takes her clit back between his lips as he fucks her with his fingers, needing her to cum before he can give her what they both desperately need. His cock aches as Y/N grinds down against his face, the feel of her taking control of her pleasure only turning him on more. Fred’s tongue flicks at her clit as his lips suck, and he can tell by the way her cunt grips his fingers that she’s close.
“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my hand so I can have you cumming all over my cock.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Y/N babbles as Fred licks her, fingers tugging him even closer into her as she grinds against him. Waves of pleasure are swirling in her core, electric shocks radiating all down her spine as Fred brings her closer and closer to the edge. He makes her feel like she’s on fire, completely erasing the few weak orgasms she had last night from her memory.
Fred wraps his arm around her thigh to keep Y/N in place as her orgasm takes over, his fingers and mouth still working her through the pleasure. Y/N’s toes curl as pleasure consumes her, thighs quivering as a cry of Fred’s name leaves her lips. Aftershocks of pleasure send shivers down her spine, and Y/N has to use her grip on Fred’s hair to separate his mouth from her cunt as she comes down.
He doesn’t say anything as he crawls back up the bed, letting Y/N catch her breath before he leans down to kiss her softly. Her legs wrap around his hips, the need for Fred to be close overwhelming her need to get off for a brief moment.
“Need you inside me,” Y/N murmurs against Fred’s mouth, her legs tightening around him.
“Needy girl,” Fred teases, nipping at her jaw. But with one final kiss to her lips he pulls back, climbing off the bed so he can rid himself of the rest of his clothes. Who is he to deny the needs of his wife, the woman growing his child?
Y/N makes a move to pull the jersey she’s wearing up over her head, and Fred grabs her wrist, shaking his head.
“No, the jersey stays on.”
Fred’s pretty sure he hears her mumble something about him being a possessive idiot, but he doesn’t even care. Settling on the bed, back against the headboard with his cock leaking against his stomach, he beckons Y/N closer. “Come sit on my lap and make yourself cum on my cock, baby.”
Under normal circumstances she’d make some joke about how he’s making her do all the work, but her cunt is already aching again and if she doesn’t get Fred’s cock in the next three minutes she may die. Y/N crawls up the bed, shivering at the look in Fred’s eyes. It’s full of nothing but pure desire, and she can feel her heartbeat pulsing in her clit. At one point she feared that pregnancy may change the way Fred looks at her, and now as she straddles his waist Y/N can’t believe what an idiot she had been.
One of Fred’s hands lands on her hip, the other on her bump and the contact sends a shiver down her spine. It takes a little bit of finesse with her bump in the way, but as soon as Y/N has Fred’s cock pressed against her cunt she’s sinking down. She’s slick enough from Fred’s mouth and her previous orgasm that she presses down until she’s fully seated in his lap, and her eyes flutter shut from the pleasure coursing through her veins.
Fred is so thick and full inside her, and Y/N just sits there in his lap, eyes closed and her head tilted back as she appreciates the feel of him inside her. Y/N’s cunt pulses around him, and with how desperate she’s been to feel her husband like this, she already feels embarrassingly close to her climax already.
“Fuck you are perfect,” Fred groans as her hips start to gently rock. He fixes her jersey so the hem rests on the top of her bump, wanting to see it in all of its glory. With one hand squeezing her thigh, Fred places the other on her stomach to help keep her balance. “So fucking full aren’t you, wife? So full of my cock and my baby, hm? Love being full of me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she responds breathily, leaning back to brace herself against Fred’s thighs. The new angle lets him sink even deeper, and a sharp gasp falls from her mouth at the sensation. “Always wanna be full like this.”
“With my baby or my cock?” he teases.
“Both,” Y/N hits back truthfully.
“Fuck,” Fred growls, unable to keep his hips from thrusting. The moan that comes from Y/N spurs him on, and he continues to match her movements with his own. “Whatever my wife wants my wife gets. Gonna keep you nice and full with my cock and my cum and my babies until we’ve got a whole fucking hockey team, baby. And no one will ever doubt who you, who this fucking pussy, belongs too.”
Her cunt clenches even tighter at his words, encouraging Fred to keep talking.
“Look at you, my pretty little wife, fucking herself on my cock. Bet you thought about this the whole time I was gone, didn’t you, love?”
“Fuck, yes,” Y/N moans. She’s inching closer and closer to her orgasm with each of her movements, thighs quivering from a mixture of the pleasure swirling in her core and the effort it’s taking to fuck herself on Fred’s cock.
“Fuck you look so good like this, baby,” Fred praises. “Not gonna be able to take you like this much longer, am I? I swear everytime I look at you, your belly is bigger. It’s not long until you’ll be too big to ride me like this, isn’t that right, love? But that’s okay, because you look so fucking good all full of my baby. Seeing you like this, knowing I did this, makes me feel fucking feral, baby. You’re doing such a great job, growing our baby. Gonna be such a good Mama.”
The combination of Fred’s cock stretching Y/N to her limits and the constant stream of praise coming from Fred pushes Y/N over the edge, and her back arches as she comes. Shocks of pleasure jolt out from her cunt, her clit aching and her toes curling as her orgasm washes over her in waves.
The feel of Y/N’s walls pulsing around Fred’s cock as she moans his name pushes him to his own climax, his hips just barely pushing up into her as he empties himself into her eager cunt.
“Taking it so well, baby. Fuck.”
He places a hand on her lower back for support as they both come down, the hand he has on her bump rubbing soothing circles into the skin. When having her in his lap starts to get uncomfortable, Fred carefully lifts her off, maneuvering so he can lay Y/N next to him on the bed without jostling her too much.
Finally feeling satisfied, Y/N watches Fred move around their room through her barely open eyes, too tired to try and stay awake any longer. She lets him move her around too clean up, a soft whine coming from her lips when he pulls the jersey up and off over her head. But she’s immediately placated when Fred helps her into one of his old t-shirts, and she doesn’t even fight him as he pulls sleep shorts up her legs.
He disappears into their bathroom then, and Y/N is practically asleep by the time he reemerges and gets into bed beside her. But instead of Fred pulling her into his arms like she expected, her eyes open in surprise as Fred pushes up the hem of her shirt just enough to expose her bump.
“What are you doing?” she murmurs, tone laced with humor.
“What does it look like?” Fred responds as he pours lotion into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. He cradles her stomach carefully, slowly starting to massage her skin. “I’m taking care of both of my girls.”
Title: Everyday, for the rest of forever
Pairing: Fred x fem!reader, Fred x Angelina Johnson
Summary: Reader watches as the person she loves falls in love with someone else
A/N: This is a song fic based on the song Heather by Conan Gray and I highly recommend listening to it while you read!! I got carried away with the ending but I’m not even sorry.
I still remember third of December
Me in your sweater, you said it looked better
On me, than it did you, only if you knew
How much I liked you
“How’re you feeling?” Hermione asks quietly as she takes a seat on the edge of Y/N’s bed. She had kept the dorm up half the night with her coughing, so Hermione is pretty sure she knows the answer.
“Like shit,” Y/N answers as she rolls over in bed to look at her friend. Her throat feels raw and her voice is gravelly. Despite the fact that Y/N can feel the heat radiating off her cheeks and she’s laying under a pile of blankets she shivers as a cold chill runs down her spine.
Hermione frowns, and reaches out to touch Y/N’s forehead. “You’ve still got a fever. You sure you don’t want to go to Madam Pomfrey? She can whip up a Pepperup Potion and have you feeling better in a few minutes.”
Y/N nods, waving away the worried look Hermione gives her. “You know that always makes me feel even worse. It’s just a little cold, I’m sure I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
“If you’re sure.” Hermione stands up, pausing as she reaches for her coat. “Do you want me to stay with you? I don’t mind, there will be other Hogsmeade trips.”
Y/N shakes her head with a laugh, gesturing towards the door of their dorm room. They both can hear Ron and Harry causing some kind of commotion with Seamus and Dean down in the common room despite the fact that the thick wooden door is closed. “I’ll be fine. Those two idiots need you more than me. Someone needs to keep them in check.”
Hermione laughs too, finally pulling on her coat. “You’re not wrong about that. I’ll see you at dinner, yeah?”
“As long as you’ve got a chocolate frog for me, I’ll be there.”
