lord is there anything more dysregulating than visiting your parents?? it's just like hi, mom. how are you. i wish i hadn't come here. but also i never want to leave. what would it be like if we lived closer? never mind, i just remembered that thing you said when i was 12. my skin is crawling. you are the most annoying person in the world. but it's okay because we're going to sit down & have dinner & we'll laugh at some movie quotes. why didn't you help me pack for college when i was 18? why didn't you think to buy me a coat? seasons for the first time & i was totally unprepared. okay see you at Christmas! love you!
a/n: I haven’t seen any marauders fics lately, I hope the fandom is thriving still </3 anyways, in celebration of the Aaron Taylor Johnson rumors I had to get out of my writing block to write something. So! Enjoy <3
warnings: smut! porn with no plot, piv, unprotected, intimate soft sex
You gasped softly as his warm hands slid over your body, nestling you close and kissing your neck.
He gently pushed your panties to the side and jerked himself a couple of times before looking at you, silently pleading for consent. You gave a slight nod before wrapping your arms around his neck. James pushed in, his head resting on your forehead. He slowly started rocking his hips, allowing you time to adjust.
James emits small whimpers, lowering his head to pepper your neck with slow, sloppy kisses. You gasp and trash at the sheets, lifting your legs around his waist, as to pull him even closer.
‘‘You’re beautiful.’‘ He breathes, breaking the silence the the dark room emits. You pull your hands through his hair, kissing James slowly. He’s still rocking his hips, his thrusts growing sloppier.
Pulling out, he started kissing from your neck, to the nape of your breasts. Continuing down towards your navel, his hands roaming over your body. His hands were warm and coarse. He hoisted your leg over his shoulder, kissing between your thighs. Not going near where you wanted him most, so close but yet so far away.
Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling and running them through. James started suckling on the small bud, earning several breathy gasps from you. He brought his fingers to your quivering hole, entering them slowly while lapping greedily at your cunt. You were pulling his hair and your legs had clasped around his head.
‘‘James. I’m close’’ You muttered out, pleading for release. James looked up, juices glistening on his chin, a cocky smirk plastered on his face ‘’Go on then, pretty girl.’’ He kissed your thighs before continuing. It came in waves, pleasure washing in. James helped you ride out your orgasm, before readjusting himself so he was lined up with your entrance.
He rocked his hips, entering you with ease. You hissed from the overstimulation, grasping and clawing at his shoulders. He bottomed out, before pulling out and then thrusting in. Sensitive from the last orgasm, you felt the coil in your stomach start tightening.
‘‘Where d’you want it, princess?’‘James asked, panting slightly. You clawed at his back, trying to grasp something. ‘‘Inside, please!’’ Moaning at his pace.
James was trying to keep up the pace, your orgasm washed over you a second time. That was all it took for James to get pushed over the edge, stilling inside you while he came inside you.
You awoke to James kissing your forehead, a damp cloth cleaning you up. He reappeared a couple of minutes later, cuddling you to sleep.
A/N: I HAVEN’T WRITTEN ANYTHING IN SUCH A LONG TIME!!
Should I make a taglist? Send your user in my inbox!!
soil and dirt part two? where he fucks ‘mad and needy’ reader
As requested, pt 2 ;) , might make a pt.3... maybe.
Soil & Dirt PT.2
Link to Soil & Dirt
Prompt: After Peter leaves you unsatisfied in the greenhouse, you have to wait till lunch to get your reward.
Word Count: 1.8k
Content: NSFW, angry & frustrated reader, described femine reader, pussy eating, clit play, bit of crying, cocky & soft Peter cause I said so, bit of dirty talk, revenge ;)
—
Lunch was a disaster, your mind a constant battle with the present and past. Your body felt heated, upset, and wounded from Peter’s sinister games. Face red with either flustation or frustration, your fork in a death grip as you puncture a grape.
Lily took notice, and so did Mary but she knew better than to worsen your state so she kept quiet. Lily, however, could not do the same.
“You alright?” She asked, taking a bite out of her sandwich as you pulled on a smile. Your panties drenched with a certain type of lust only your boyfriend could achieve, you nod anyway.
“Yeah of course,” you say, chewing on your fruit as you hear a sweet laugh fill the air, a mix of a deep chuckle and pure amusement. Your eyes look over, seeing Peter’s head leant back as his group of friends raved over some silly joke.
This time, a strawberry was stabbed and the fork scraped forcefully against the bowl. A tad more force and the utensils would have broken, much like your earlier ruined orgasm.
You thought bitterly to yourself, watching him eat his sandwich like he hadn’t just played you for the fool you were. How could he sit there and laugh? Wasn’t your pain enough for him to bow down and become insufferable with grief? You had to look away, a pout on your lips that Peter just noticed as he turned to see you. His smirk widened, seeing your tense shoulders that he would later sink his hands into and wind down your anger with battled pleasure.
You finished your food quickly, organizing your used plates neatly on the table as you got up and walked swiftly past the boys. Peter watched you pass, eyes narrow as you pushed your chin out and didn’t even spare him a single glance. He realized his mistake and sighed, watching your hips taunt before you turned the corner and headed down the hall.
Your steps lead you to the Gryffindor portrait, arms crossed as you lean against the wall and wait for your troubled boyfriend. The longer you wait the more you feel desperate, breath uneven in whispers.
You get excited at the sounds of footsteps, heart racing as you dampen your angry stance and try to look more fluent. But it was only a second year passing by; your eyes closed in irritation, arms folded back over your chest as the young boy took notice and hurried away down the hall.
A few moments pass, Peter's head seen down the stairs as his body later follows until he is standing right before you. You turn your head, not offering a word while waiting for him to open the portrait so you can finally get the ending you deserve.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say m’love is upset,” he starts, you glare and hold back your tongue so you don’t yell at him in front of the paintings. “Open the door Peter,” you say, having to look away from his teasing smile as he steps in front of the singing lady and says the password.
Once it opened you slid under his arm that held the door, walking into the common room, not sparing it a second look before heading straight up the stairs to the boy's dormitory. Peter follows close behind, watching your skirt swish with the movement.
You turned to a corridor, walking through it with quicker steps as you knew what awaited. Anticipation motivated you, hand leapt out and turned the door knob as you opened it and walked into the window-lit room.
Your legs carried you to his bed, falling onto it as Peter shut the door behind you. He kicked off his shoes, watching as you got comfy on your stomach and head tucked into his pillows.
A series of complaints then started, muffled by the fabric and Peter knew he’d have to spend the rest of the afternoon winning you over. He leaned on the bed, knees dipping into the mattress as his hand came to rub your exposed thigh.
“Don’t touch me,” you speak loudly, lifting your head and turning to look at him. He sighs, continues to place his hand on your thigh and gently squeezed the muscle.
“How am I supposed to make you feel better if I can’t touch you?” He asks reasonably, hand travelling quickly as it disappears briefly under your skirt. His fingers just graze your ass before you turn on your back, swatting his hand away with a matching frown. He bites his lip, seeing your daggers for a stare and places his hands on his thighs.
Your eyes look briefly down at your skirt, then to his trousers with a full pout. Peter wasn’t a genius but he knew what that meant, he knew better than to leave your desperate stares unnoticed.
Your stomach fluttered, making it impossible to express your feelings. Frustrated tears welled up behind your lash line, leaking down your cheeks as a sob racked through your body.
“Oh, baby,” Peter's voice whispered softly, his face deepened with concern as he cupped your cheek gently and rubbed away leaking tears with his thumb. “'m sorry, I was being mean wasn’t I?”
“Mh-hm,” you hum, pulling away from his soft hands and hiding your face behind your own shaky ones as you wipe at your tears. They didn’t stop, your chest rising with each sharp inhale as you tried to remain situated. You wanted Peter to know how angry you were but it was coming out in emotional distress.
“I was so close Peter,” you exhale, voice pale from crying as you look at him with culprit-induced eyes. He nods, lips in a frown and you can’t help but find it attractive.
“Let me make it up to you,” he offers, tucking hairs away from your wet cheeks as he pulls them behind your ears. You nod, breathing in slowly as the tears shortly stop. He smiles, lifting your chin and placing a long kiss on your lips. Once you kiss him back a grin replaces his frown, trailing his lips down your jaw and towards your collarbone.
“Did I tell you how pretty you looked in this outfit?” He asks, lifting the loose blouse that was tucked into your skirt. You don’t fall for his kind words, still upset from his earlier antics. “Don’t soften me up, m’angry,” you huff, in which Peter chuckles and unbuttons the shirt swiftly. You let him pull it down your shoulders, leaning up a bit so he can toss it away onto the floor.
“I can tell, that’s okay I’ll fuck you good and you’ll be my sweet girl again hm?” He whispers against your naval, kissing up until your bra hides what he once felt this morning. You sigh, his eyes looking up at you as he unhooks the garment and slides it off your shoulders. “I didn’t hear a no,” he grins, you rolled your eyes and felt his warm lips kiss the valley in between your breasts.
“M’getting the silent treatment?” He asks, breath tickling your goosebump-ridden skin and his fingers massage your aching mounds. His thumb rolled over your nipple, leaving you little time to get used to the feeling before his tongue licked over the perk bud, swirling it gingerly before sucking greedily.
A pretty gasp left your lips, back arching just enough to press yourself against Peter's looming body. You grinned, mind happy with the pleasure as your fingers threaded through his hair and pushed him down your stomach. Peter listened without words, his finger hooking the hem of your skirt and helping you wiggle out of it. He kissed under your navel as he pulled down your soaked panties, tossing them somewhere you won’t be able to find.
“Fuck,” he rasps, fingers running up through your folds and collecting the desperation. Your hips twitch as his finger nicks your clit, hips grounded to try and get closer. He looked up at you, seeing your forced pout. “Made you wait like this?” He asked, a bit proud of himself that he could achieve such a state.
You nod, combing back his messy hair as you pull him closer between your parted thighs. “Yeah, s’mean and rude!” You chanted, upset at the thought as Peter shakes his head.
“Bit mean of me I’ll admit, but the wait makes it feel better,” he promises, his baby blue eyes intimate with your own. You pull away, still furious but your stomach knotted at his gaze. “Oh shut up, m’waited enough,” you mumble and he agrees with you, licking up your slit and blowing teasingly against your swollen clit.
“Oh Peter, fuck,” you whisper, moving your legs so they rest against his shoulders. Your thighs shake, and his tongue continues down your folds, pushing his tongue inside. Your hips melt, fluttering at his touching and you press yourself further into his face. He rubs your clit with his thumb, pressing in with deep circles.
You bit your lip as you leaned your head back against his pillows, throat exposed as you let him toy around. It wouldn’t take long until you were sobbing and releasing all over his face. You hated how he was right, the waiting made it better. So much better.
Cheeks flushed, eyes rolled back inside your skull as gasping moans filled the room. Peter's sounds muffled against your body, possibly enjoying this more than you. His cock was hard, leaking against his boxers. All morning his mind was filled with images of his cock stuffing you, he’d fuck you for hours if he could.
“That’s it! That’s it!” You whined, desperate as your body warmed and a sensation built up quickly. Peter’s thumb never faulted as his tongue still prodded your gushing pussy, suffocating once you trapped his head in between your thighs and lost it once your climax released.
Your thighs are sticky with sweat, gently prying off his head as he pulls back and breathes properly. His eyes are shining, matching his glistening lips as you bring your head back.
“Fuck that was good,” you pant, tits rising with each inhale as your fingers untangle from his blond locks. He nods, sitting up on his knees as he unbuckles his trousers.
“Uh-uh,” you taut, closing your aching thighs and hiss at the friction. He squinted his eyes, letting out a sharp, “what?” as you watch his cock press painfully against the fabric.
“You can wait till after dinner,” you hum in thought, turning around and leaning over the bed to fetch your panties. Peter gets a full view of your swollen goods, his breath hard as he watches you hide the pretty sight behind the fabric.
“Are you kidding me?” He asked, sitting confused on his ruffled bed as you quickly put on your outfit. You just buttoned up your shirt and tucked it into your skirt as you leaned over, kissing him with a giggle. “It’s better if you wait,” you explain with revengeful eyes, quickly slipping out of his room and waving with an innocent smile.
He watched the door close, cheeks flushed with red as he licked over his lips, the sweet taste invading his senses. “Fucking tease,”
vould you write jealous angry smut with Peter Pettigrew?
Mine
Pairing: roommate!Peter Pettigrew x Reader
Warnings: smut, degradation, name calling, alcohol consumption, cussing, dom!Peter, no contraception (this is fictional, you are not. wrap it up.)
Words: 1.7 k
Summary:
Your roommate Peter gets a little jealous seeing you with a guy at a bar.
Notes: okay sorry it took awhile, I have never read/written anything about Peter so this is a first plus I had to do my research, if you know what I mean. I assumed you wanted young Peter, so it’s going Peter. I choose a Dane DeHaan gif but you can imagine him as anyone.
I honestly hate this so much. but anyway here to long awaited Roommate!peter fic
After graduation you had moved in with a friend from Hogwarts, all of his other friends had partners or lived on their own. So when you mentioned you wanted to get a roommate he volunteered. You hadn’t been friends for long, just met a couple of months into your last year at Hogwarts.
Everything had been going smoothly, you got along, most of the time when one was working the other was home, so you both got privacy. The only time you two actually saw each other was before bed.
After you had first met Peter you were instantly attracted to him, but you knew since he was to be your roommate you could never admit it to anyone. So you made sure to busy yourself, if that was work, parties, other people, friends. Pretty much anything you could think of.
However, it had felt as if Peter was always around and you weren’t Necessarily complaining. He often hung out with friends, worked, and went out. But whenever you were both home at night it was impossible to avoid the tension between the both of you.
That’s when one Friday night you decided to get your mind off the dirty blonde boy and go out with some of your friends.
“Come on, let’s get a drink.” Lily Evan shouted over the blaring music, as you both traveled through the sweaty bodies around the club.
Once you both settled at the bar and ordered a round of drinks you both observed the crowd. “Oi, Y/n, guy with tattoos, to the left.”
“Huh,” you spoke to Lily, you moved your gaze to look down the long bar table. “oh.” You locked your eyes with a brunette, he looked in his late twenties which was fine but you were in your early twenties.
“Yeah, oh” Lily said back sarcastically.
“He looks a little old.” Mary suddenly came from behind you with the other two.
“Older men are hot.”
“Marls, you’re a lesbian.” Dorcas inquired, squinting at her girlfriend.
“So? I can still appreciate a man’s beauty.”
You laughed, shaking your head and looking away from the man down the table.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, the boys are coming sometime tonight.” Mary said before asking the bartender for another round.
〰〰〰〰
You weren’t sure how you got here but you were pressed against the wall, with the tattooed man marking your neck. You slightly opened your eyes, feeling a heavy gaze on you.
Your eyes locked with your dirty blonde roommate across the club, his piercing blue eyes falling onto yours across the tainted rim of the glass he had against his lips. your lips was slightly ajar as you held your roommate's gaze. his eyes slightly darkened and he placed his glass down to the bar. James Potter was sitting next to him and trying to hold a conversation with his best mate but not realizing that Peter wasn't paying the slightest attention to the dark haired boy.
You tried to ignore the heavy weight of his gaze and removed your eyes from his. Pulling on the tattooed man’s hair to remove his lips from your neck and to connect them to your own.
Across from you, at the bar Peter downs another glass and hops off the stool.
“Mate- where are you going?” James stopped mid sentence noticing his friend's mental absence.
“I gotta go.” Peter muttered an excuse as he started to move through the hot bodies.
Once his eyes caught on the man’s roaming hands he lost it. He shoved the man off you and grabbed your wrist.
“What the- Peter!” You said in surprise, Peter started to tug you away from the man with a death grip on your arm.
“Come on man!” The man shouted, you had already forgotten his name. You could barely hear him over the loud music and Peter guided you out of the building.
“Peter, where are we going?”
“Home.” That’s all he said.
“Are you okay?” You ask wryly, you had made it down the street to where he had parked, he opened the door for you and spoke harshly, “Get in the car.”
You obliged but not without giving him a frustrated sigh.
“Don’t give me attitude, princess.” Peter spoke once he slide into the car.
The ride to your shared apartment was silent as you sat quietly in the passenger side of his car. Once you entered the parking lot and he parked you broke the silence.
“Pete-“
“Shut it.” He dismissed you as he got out, he waited until you followed him out of the car and then he made his way up the stairs to your apartment. He opened the door aggressively after unlocking it. You walked in after him and watched as he started to take off his jacket.
“What is wrong? I don’t understand why you're freaking out-“ suddenly your back was pressed against the front door. You let out a small gasp as you felt Peter press into you, feeling his hard bulge press into your stomach.
“What’s wrong?” Peter mocked you. “What’s wrong is that your walking around like a fucking slut when you have no right to give yourself to anyone but-“
You interrupted him, “what are you on about? Are you upset that I was kissing that guy?”
Peter chuckled, “huh…” he paused, moving closer to your face, inches apart, you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Yeah, actually, for some reason you think you can just go up and kiss anyone. Let them touch you when… when you obviously don’t belong to them.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, “Who? Who do I belong to, then?”
“Me.”
“Peter.” You breathed out, his face moved to the crook of your neck, he started to kiss down your jaw and onto your neck.
“You think you’re allowed to let him touch, no one’s allowed to touch what’s mine. ‘Cause you belong to me and so does your body.” Your breathing quickened as his lips trailed lower.
“Peter.”
“Walking around and acting like a filthy slut.”
“Your slut.” That’s all you said, his lips stopped and he slowly looked up to see your head laid back, your eyes closed and your lips agape.
“That’s right.” He said, his lips leveling with yours, “my slut.”
He leaned in closer, enough for your lips to brush against each other. You nodded to his words, looking to his lips to see a sly smirk growing upon them, then he smashed his lips against yours.
You gasped, giving him entrance to your mouth, his tongue explored your mouth as your hands trailed up to his hair. “Jump” he whispered against your lips.
You did as he asked and he wrapped your legs around his waist and carried you forwards to his bed. Once you got to his bedroom you were tossed onto his bed, he was quick to follow you, he was on top of you, his lips moving from your stomach up to your neck.
You hummed in agreement as he leant back, while you tried to chase his lips.
He tutted, shaking his head, “You don’t know how many times I’ve heard you, touching yourself when you think I’m asleep.” he smirked, “What do you think of?”
“You.” you sighed, leaning your head back on the door, “It’s always you.”
“Really, princess.” He smirked as his hands started to travel down your frame.
“Mhm.” Your body arched into his hands unconsciously, needing more.
“Aw,” He cooed, “My desperate little whore.” He started to swiftly undress you until you were on your back naked. His fully clothed body was pressed into you.
“These,” his hands wandered to your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples. “Are heaven.” He lowered his mouth onto your nipples.
“No-“ you protested, “need more, want you in-“ he cut you off by shushing you.
“I know, I know.” He quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down onto his lower thighs, his boxers were next.
“Now.” you whine, inpatient, needy, and desperate.
“Oh.” he cocked his head, “you wanna tell me what to do?”
“N-no, I just- please.” you begged. You lifted your hips to press into his but his hands shoved your hips back into the bed.
“Huh.” he shook his head at you, sitting up, pulling his pants lower and lifting his shirt up. His finger went lower on your body until he reached where you needed him the most, he gathered your slick and rubbed it up your slit, circling your clit. Once you release your first moan he pulls back making you whine.
“Shut up, You desperate little slut.” he chuckled, mockingly. Without telling you he was pushing into you, you moaned on instinct.
“Pe-peter.” you moaned, trying to grind on his cock but his hand that still rested on your lower abdomen restricted you. Peter rutted into you, moving his hand from your stomach to your legs, wrapping them around his hips. Peter let out a breath moan as he kept his pace even. You knew you werent gonna last long, not with his thumb circling your clit and his cock hitting that spot.
He wasn’t either with your tits bouncing with every movement of his hips.
“‘m not gonna last.” you murmured.
“Me neither.” he shook his head in the crock of your neck.
“Come, come inside of me. Please.” you beg, wanting him to fill you out.
“Are you sure?” he panted into your neck, you hummed in response.
“You ready? Come with me.” you nodded at Peter's words.
“You ready? Now.” he breathed both of you releasing together. The knot from your stomach untying in a wave of pleasure.
“Fuck.” Peter panted, moving his head to lock your lips once again. “Fuck, you’re beautful.” he spoke as he slowed down his movements.
How many times Minerva McGonagall had listened to the distant footsteps echoing in the long hallways of the castle after the curfew, how many times she had failed to catch them, how many times she resisted giving them detention after lecturing them, how many hilarious pranks she had seen and faked her disappointment, how many times she had looked at the happy faces of the boys teasing each other at any given opportunity, how many times she had caught them out of beds in the middle of the night to see the glorious, never fading grins on their young faces, how many times she had whispered under her breath, smiling, “God, let them never get old.”
And they never did.
And after them, all the footsteps sounded like them, but not quite. In all the pranks she saw them, but not quite. In all the smug grins she recognised them, but not quite. Everything and everyone reminded her of them, but not quite. How many times she had walked through the empty corridors, searching for remaining traces of them. And they were always there, but only enough to awake the burning nostalgia. They were there, but not quite.
Never again had she wished for someone not to get old.
description- peter reminisces in what he had before the war
tw - mention of death, violence, and abuse
-
November 3rd, 1981
peter laid on his back, staring at the old, battered ceiling above him. there were rips and tears, holes covering most it.
he was alone, not that surprising. he’d been alone for awhile now, even before that night.
he winced, closing his eyes before the tears had a chance to surface.
it’s been 3 days.
he could remember the way james’ eyes filled with regret, swirling with the disappointment he no doubt felt the moment he caught peter’s eyes.
he could remember the way he frantically deserved for his wand, but peter knew it was too late, james’ wand laid heavy in his pocket, and peter’s hands shook as he watched his best friend call out to the love of his life, his dying breath begging them to run.
peter winced, he didn’t deserve to call james his best friend, not after what he did.
but he could remember the sickening sound of james’ body hitting the floor, he remembers the flash of light, the laughs surrounding him as his blood rushed to his ears and he struggled to breathe, as if he was the one hit with the killing curse.
and when he walked past, james was clutching onto a necklace he was wearing. peter had to will the tears out of his eyes, that was their necklace.
each marauder had one, a necklace enchanted with their magic, just like the map, so none of them were ever alone.
even remembering it now, peter felt a tear fall from his face. james died clutching that necklace, and peter didn’t even deserve to be thinking of him.
peter didn’t deserve to be thinking about any of them, yet for the past 3 days it was all he could do.
sit in this room, in some abandoned house in the woods, laying on this bed, holding onto a pillow as if it was a life source.
he hadn’t eaten, or drank anything really. he figured he didn’t deserve it, a slow, painful death would be the closest to what he did deserve.
all he’d done was sit and think. he hadn’t let himself cry, or make any noise. but he wanted to, he desperately wanted to. he anted to rip the house apart around him, he wanted to scream until the gods brought james back, he wanted to scratch at the mark on his arm, he wanted to yell for someone to hold a wand to his throat, or at the very least, knock some of his teeth in.
he wanted to break and break and never stop breaking.
the deaths may have not come from his wand, but the blood was still on his hands.
not that the world knew that, no, they thought sirius had done it. sirius black, of all people. sickening, for them to think he’d ever be as low as peter.
peter could remember him too, the way his hands shook and his teeth gritted as his gripped his wand so tight his fingers turned white. he remembered sirius running, tears streaming down his face with cries of “why?” and “how could you?” falling from his lips.
peter wishes he had an answer for him, he wishes he knew.
but in reality he had no reason, he was not tortured, he was not manipulated, nobody was held hostage, nothing. he just did it.
and peter reckons that’s the worst part.
most people have a reason, most people have a story, a loss, something to fight for. and yet peter did not.
he reckons that makes him the worst kind of monster.
he held the pillow a little tighter, breath picking up in his chest.
remus, oh remus.
remus was on a mission, he very well was probably still on that mission.
what would he do? will someone send him a letter? or will dumbledore visit him himself?
will remus be okay? james and sirius, both gone. remus will break down. remus will claw at his skin, throw himself at walls, let himself be used as a rag doll. remus will spend full moons alone again.
peter’s heart stopped.
remus would be alone. remus will get hurt. remus’ wolf won’t know what to do, it’ll rip him apart. remus won’t be able to patch himself up, he won’t be able to get help. remus might just let his wolf ruin him. remus might die too.
“no, no, no.” peter whimpered, shaking his head, breath becoming quicker.
‘sirius will die too’ a voice whispered back to him, and peter squeezed his eyes tighter, willing the bad thoughts to go away, just for one moment.
they can’t die, they can’t. peter doesn’t want them to die, peter didn’t mean for them to die. he was suppose to save them, they can’t die.
peter was pushed back into memories he wished he could forget, but desperately clung onto.
i. peter could feel the blood rushing to his head, could feel his own heart racing to get out of his chest. it was too loud, there was too many people, their magic was overwhelming.
peter wanted to cry, he felt the tears swelling in his eyes. he just wanted to go home.
he gasped as he felt a hand slip in his, turning to his right, he saw a flash of a smile so bright it rivaled the suns, long black hair, blue eyes, sirius.
he tugged on his hand, leading peter away from the crowded common room, into the quiet, safe place of their dorm. leading peter to sit on james’ bed before crouching in front of him.
“pete? are you alright?” his soft voice carried through the room, past the blood clouding peter’s ears, rushing through his body like a deep breath of relief, to have something to familiar.
peter tried to nod, tried to tell him he was okay, he was fine. but his body wouldn’t listen, and instead the overwhelming pressure of the entire day crushed him, letting the tears he’d been so desperately trying to keep at bay, fall.
sirius was quick, eyes scanning to make sure peter wasn’t hurt, before gently pulling the 15 year old to his chest, combing his finger through his hair as he hummed a tune peter could not make out.
peters hands came to clutch at sirius jacket, gripping tightly like it was the only thing keeping him from sinking into the earth, and letting it swallow him whole.
sirius was patient, letting peter cling to him, letting him cry, and he just sat there, holding him together, softly singing.
sirius was always this soft, this gentle, with peter. he cared like an older brother, wiping his tears, promising him it would be okay, swearing not to leave his side. sirius always said what peter needed to hear, sirius was always there when peter was overwhelmed.
now was no different, as he pulled away, using his sleeve to wipe the tears from peters face.
“would you like to take a nap?” he asked gently, gesturing to the giant pile of blankets james’ kept on his bed. sirius did not question if peter was okay, he knew he wasn’t, or if he wanted to talk, he knew he didn’t.
peter nodded, scooting up on the bed, letting himself be wrapped in a blanket that smelled too much like james, but was glad for the familiar comfort. and managed to smile when sirius plopped next to him, his won blanket wrapped around him.
and sirius just stayed there, gently humming that same song, letting peter bask in the presence of not being alone, as long as he needed.
no words needed to be said, peter eventually drifted off to sleep, welcoming the comfort sirius radiated, like the stars on the darkest nights.
and when peter woke up, sirius was still there, reading some muggle book he got, and peter realized then that sirius wouldn’t leave him. that sirius was his brother. that sirius loved him.
ii. peter hated eating alone. it reminded him of his house, how he’d sit at the kitchen table hearing his parents argue, forcing himself to finish the food in front of him so he could go back to his room.
he hated being alone in general, but especially when he was eating. but james had quidditch practice, and sirius was in detention, so he sat down for dinner alone.
granted there was other gryffindors, lily evans was just a few spots down, marlene was with her as well, but he wasn’t that close to them, he didn’t feel safe with them.
peter picked at his food, moving it around with his fork as he felt a sickening feeling wash over him, he hated it. maybe he’d take the food back to the dorm, atleast he’d be in his bed rather than surrounded by people who didn’t notice him.
yet, before he could make a move, someone say down in front of him. peter made a move to look up, eyes going over the tan sweater, landing on a scar ridden face he’d never been happier to see.
“moony” he breathed out, relief washing over him as remus gave him his signature small smile.
“hiya peter, you left without me.” his soft voice carried over the great hall, making peter feel better, safe.
remus was there, casually keeping conversation about the astronomy homework. he kept eye contact with peter, making him feel like the rest of the world dimmed out, and it was just the small safe bubble of friendship, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
especially when remus offered an extra roll, eyes slighlty crinkled around the edges as he smiled. it reminded peter of home, not of the yelling and old rooms, not of the way he mother looked at him durning the summer.
no, it reminded him of laughs shared under stars light, of guitar strings playing loudly in common rooms, of lollipops and chocolate frogs, of train rides and quidditch games.
remus reminded him of home, the home he had here. the one that kept him safe, kept him loved, the home he had built with the marauders. the home they all deserved.
iii. james potter was the human embodiment of the sun, peter was well aware. the same way sirius was the stars, and remus was the moon.
james was always there, even when peter was a kid. to open his arms and welcome him to the light, make sure he was safe.
james was always there, for as long as peter could remember, and he was there every time he needed him.
peter felt his body want to give in as he stepped onto the platform, he mother hadn’t sent him off, not that she genuinely had in years, but she didn’t even bother this year. a push out the door, a threat to try and come back, and that was all.
peter was tired, emotionally, physically. he wasn’t even sure he wanted to get on that train, rather just take whatever he had in his trunk and run off to some muggle town he’d finally be at peace in.
and he was debating, it was their last year at hogwarts, he didn’t need to be there, not really. the war was raging on, the classes he’d take wouldn’t even matter if he died after one step into the real wizarding world.
and plus, the marauders would be fine without him, he thought bitterly. the sun, the moon, the stars. there was no room for him, and that was fine. it was okay, they all looked so happy together, they belonged. he was happy for them, it’s all he ever wanted.
peter went to go turn around, to really leave, when he heard it. a shout, so distinctive it made his heart race and his head turn around.
“PETE!”, and there he was, the sun himself, arms spread wide, giant smile on his face. his trunk was thrown carelessly beside him, as james stated to walk towards peter.
and almost as if james knew, as if he could take one look at peter and tell, he wrapped his arms around him, engulfing him in the warmest, most secure hug he’d had in months.
“missed you peter, you didn’t visit this summer.” there was almost a pout in his voice that made peter stifle a laugh, letting himself be squeezed against the boy tighter, letting his own arms wrap around james and practically melt into the affection.
“sorry” he mumbled, burying his face in james’ chest, eyes closed to prevent tears from falling, what a baby, he thought.
“‘s okay, just not the same without you.” and that, james always knew what to say. what to do. peter felt like he didn’t belong, like he was floating away, but james pulled him back to the ground, every time.
peter wanted to cry, feeling at home with his best friend. he couldn’t imagine why he thought he could do it without him, without them. because here, now, waiting for remus and sirius on the platform, peter finally let himself breathe, let himself feel.
and he felt like he belonged.
tears were finally falling, as peter grasped righting to the pillow, burying his face into it as if it would stop the sobs that raked his body.
it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t.
flashes of smiles and warm hands, star nights and study groups, flying and crashing muggle towns went through his head.
he tried to shake them out, make them stop. he didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t want to think about what he had, what he ruined.
but his brain never listened, and the universe was no longer on his side.
as he thought, without the sun, without the moon, without the stars, the universe was nothing. without them, peter was nothing.
a horrid sob ripped from his throat, his whole body shook, it was cold, but he deserved it.
his hands desperately grabbed into his own necklace, ripping it off his chest and throwing it across the room, a dull thump making its way to his ears.
“i miss you.” he sobbed, as if it would bring them back, as if it would take him back in time, to when remus would wipe his tears, and sirius would read out loud, and james would rush into a hug.
okay question, why did you all decide to fancast the rat — peter pettigrew with such an attractive person? i can't hate him properly when he looks like this /SOBS
okay I am kinda ashamed and I know a lot of people might disagree about this but we need to talk about sub!peter😩✋
I made some headcanons, don't click “read more” if you dont wanna read smut hc’s.
—
NO BC I READ A FIC WITH SUB PETER AND I WAS ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE. I THINK IT'S SUCH A GOOD CONCEPT AND I WAS LITERALLY THINKING OF WRITING A FANFIC ABOUT IT. I'M SO GLAD SOMEONE ELSE FELT THIS WAY
okay okay- but like I feel like Peter would deff be a people pleaser, so he’s always just super primal and wanting to know if you like it rather than himself. AND he would get so embarrassed when you want to focus on him and he’s all shyly muttering “but m’wanna make you feel good” (bonus points if he had a mummy kink 😤) and then he’s like super flustered when you reply with a “but making you feel good makes me feel good,”
Oh my god and he would keep looking away so you’d have to direct his eyes back to you and he would probably have the cutest pout when you tease him.
I also feel like he’d get so turned on by merely anything you do and he’s all embarrassed cause it doesn’t even take him long to cum. He would profusely apologize too and take ages to comfort that he did a good job (cause let’s be honest he sorta just puts on a sad act so he gets more praises, but I don’t mind cause he deserves it anyways). I also feel like he’d want to take care of you afterwards, cause he just wants to make sure you’re comfy and safe; so when you tell him it’s alright to just relax and let you do the work he just feels so misplaced and needs to be told to have a task.
But he rarely goes into subspace, because he’s just super quick with being your good boy and then if his friends walk in he’d just be his old self again in seconds- so really his softer side is only meant for you to see. But his friends definitely catch on and would tease him, (and Peter HATES it, because he feels like they’re making fun of him while your teases are done through love). So Peter would just be all sulky until you’d praise him and let him suck on your fingers or tits.
And he loves it, if he’s having a bad day or just needs to be with you he’s just sorta rub against your thighs and play with the hem of your blouse- because he hates asking for things he needs and you have to ask him directly, in which he’s just nodding and watches you with big eyes as you undress.
Peter likes being close too, he’s a very touchy person in private and just constantly needs to be holding you- so when you tie him up or blindfold him he’s quick with tears. Also- he’s definitely a crier, he’s super grateful for everything and he’s just letting all his pent up emotions out for you to soothe him back to reality.
He also has tons of anxiety, so he just likes the constant reassurance that you still love him and that nothing bad is going to happen. He literally relaxes under your touch, he can immediately tell who you are because he’s just so used to your hands. He likes kisses too, he’s a big kisser and he wants your lips all over him.
OKAY I HAVE TO STOP BECAUSE IM LITERALLY SINKING INTO ABYSS WITH HOW IN LOVE I AM WITH HIM, I REALLY WANNA WRITE A FANFIC ABOUT SUB PETER BUT HAVE ZERO PLOTS AT ALL. SO IF YOU HAVE ANY PLEASE SEND A REQUEST.
—
Link to my MasterList and Taglist form.
Taglist:
Please check settings or username if you aren’t getting tagged.
A/n: this is about YOUNG peter, not old creepy Peter. If you dont like Peter then just dont read, no need to leave hate. If you do like this then please reblog! It helps very much! Hope you enjoy. Also this is pretty short, sorry!
Masterlist | navigation | turn on notifications for @baysfics to know when I post a fic
Peter's heart felt like it was going to burst it was beating so fast. He was in the common room with the rest of the marauders. His last class had ended around 30 minutes ago and the whole time he was anxious. His eyes stayed trained to the portrait hole, praying you would walk in soon.
The night before he was feeling needy but tried to not think of it. But by his second class he was starting to slip. He would've gone to you but you were incredibly busy the whole day.
His mind was consumed by thoughts of you. He was so consumed that he failed to notice you walking through the portrait hole with Marlene by your side. You walked over to the couch and sat down next to peter, accidentally scaring him. He gave a little jump, but quickly calmed down when he saw it was you.
"Hiya Pete." You greeted, leaning over to kiss his cheek. You immediately noticed something was off about him. You moved your hand under his chin to make him look you in the eyes. His eyes looked distant, cloudy.
"Pete, love, you feeling okay?" You whispered.
"S-subby." He quietly whimpered. You nodded knowingly, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers.
"We're gonna held up to my dorm. See you later boys." You cheerfully said. The boys gave small "bye"'s.
You quickly walked up the stairs to your dorm. When you got up there you walked him to the bed, softly pushing his shoulders down, making him sit.
"Hey baby." You softly said, rubbing his cheek lovingly.
"Mommy." He whined, leaning into your touch.
"What do you want baby? Hmm?" You asked.
He only whined in response, pulling your legs closer to him and burying his head under your skirt.
"Hey, hey, none of that. You gotta use your words, mommy cant help if I dont know what you want." You smiled, pulling his head out from under your skirt, looking him in the eyes.
"Wan' you to hold me, please. I need you please mommy." He whimpered.
You smiled, "okay baby, just let mommy change out of my top, okay?"
He just simply nodded. You changed as quickly as possible, just wanting to comfort your boy.
You climbed onto the bed, muttering a small 'c'mere'. He quickly crawled over to you, laying his head on your chest, the best pillow in his opinion.
You stayed like that for a while, him laying on your chest while you ran your fingers in his hair. But after a while he started getting fussy again, quietly whining.
"What's wrong, puppy?" You asked after he let out a rather loud whine.
"Want you, mommy, please." He looked up at you with his beautiful puppy eyes.
"You have me, darling." You rubbed his arm, but he stopped you, instead bringing your hand up to his face.
"Want your fingers." He murmured, slightly embarrassed.
"Aw baby, do you need mommy's fingers? Of course, you can have them for as long as you need." You slipped your pointer and middle finger into his warm mouth.
He eagerly accepted them in, sucking on them the minute he could. He let out a relaxed sigh, slowly closing his eyes.
After a few minutes his sucking slowed down, and his body went limp against you. He had finally got the comfort he needed.
Prompt: while joining your boyfriend in the herbology greenhouse, things take a more teasing turn.
Reader: not really specified but they have a vagina
Word count: 1.3k
Warning: nsfw, swearing, clit play, finger fucking, ruined orgasm, literally Peter is a fucking demon or something cause he teases the shit outta you. Comment if I missed any.
ps. I KNOW- I KNOW I HAVE A TON OF REQUESTS RN BUT PETER SMUT. Here you guys go :)
UYGAYTFYRAF I MISSED YOU TOO AND LOWKEY IM SUPER AFRAID IM JUST GONNA GHOST THIS ACC AGAIN JHBUYGF UGHH COVID, WORD, AND SCHOOL SUCKS. BUT I MISSED YOU AND WRITING SM
tangentwithtanner
baratheonpilled
kianamaiart
izzy806
kaledo-art
origamiaround
titsay
stormborns
