Hi! I Was Wondering If You Could Make Some More Bartender!sirius X Reader Stories! Anything Works Really!

ginny weasley moodboard

Daddy Issues | Draco Malfoy

Wow I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disappear like that Lovelies! Sometimes I forget depression and writers block are a thing until they punch me in the face and force me to go MIA for a hundred years! I guess I’m back? I hope? Fingers crossed? Anyway, I’m sorry this isn’t a TVD fic but I figured Y’all would appreciate something over nothing. I missed you all more than I can say! I hope you enjoy, I love you all!

Description: Draco and y/n are best friends until Draco’s father threatens y/n. She avoids Draco until he confronts her.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: Like none, it’s kinda sad but not really, the only flaw is bad writing

Word count: 3.4k

Tags: Angst, FLUFF

(not my gif, I just love it lol)

Your heart stings from across the courtyard, the gap between you and the blonde boy tangible. For a second you don’t know whether or not your heart is even in your chest anymore or if it’s in his hands. In that case your heart is sitting on a bench, sandwiched between Blaise Zabini and Vincent Crabbe. Maybe he isn’t holding your heart, though, maybe he is your heart, in which case you’re avoiding your heart’s piercing gaze. 

Your hands twitch at your sides, itching to grab his or to twist through his silky hair or do anything other than lay idle when he is only mere steps away from you. Your hands ache to touch him and usually you would be doing just that: clinging to his robes or twisting the rings around on his fingers or simply tangling your own fingers with his slender ones. Your hands feel painfully empty without him to hold on to. 

That makes sense though, he’s your best friend after all. You’re rarely ever spotted less than five feet away from each other. Everyone at Hogwarts can see how utterly entwined you are, every part of him wrapped around your finger and every part of you sitting precisely in the palm of his hand. You orbit each other, drawn in by a gravity that the rest of the student body can’t deny.

Right now, though, that gravity is being tested and everyone feels a little bit like they’re floating away. 

Keep reading

in my mind remus have a BIG breeding kink

YES YES YES!!!

remmy would have the biggest fucking breeding kink.

even when you were still in hogwarts, every time you fucked, he’d beg to go bare. you were on birth control, so you were mostly safe, but that lingering 2% that it’d fail always got to him.

he’d always be muttering stuff in your ear while he fucked you.

“want me to fuck my pups into you?”

“gonna look so pretty with your belly all swollen with my babies.”

and don’t even get me started when you’re out of hogwarts and discus children, that man would lock you away in his bedroom for days just to fuck you, coming inside of you over and over and over again until the test shows up positive.

she knows what nancy listens to.

twin flame: george weasley x reader

twin flame (n.): an intense soul connection, sometimes called a “mirror soul,” thought to be a person’s other half. it’s based on the idea that sometimes one soul gets split into two bodies. one of the main characteristics of a twin flame relationship is that it will be both challenging and healing. this is due to the mirroring nature of a twin flame; they show you your deepest insecurities, fears, and shadows. but they also help you overcome them and vice versa—your twin flame will be equally affected by you.

completed

add yourself to the taglist :)

key: ❁ smut, ☽ angst, ☼ fluff

part one ☽☼

part two ☽

part three ☽

part four ❁ ☼

epilogue ☼

🧡

THE WEASLEY TWINS in THE GOBLET OF FIRE.

fic recommendations

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• no second chances - draco malfoy & neville longbottom x reader (angst, fluff)

• peach // mechanic!rw x reader (angst, smut, fluff)

•my enemy || s.b x reader (angst, slight fluff)

• loyalty || wolfstar!dads x reader (angst)

• love lost || d.m x reader (angst)

• out of love || draco x reader (angst, fluff)

• always you || j.p x reader (angst, fluff)

• under the table || remus lupin x reader (smut)

• my good boy || james potter x reader (smut, fluff)

• corrupted || r.l x reader (smut, dark fic!!)

• birthday punishment || remus lupin x reader (smut)

• attention || james potter x reader (smut)

• presents || draco malfoy x reader (smut, step!dad au)

• later || draco malfoy & theo nott x reader (smut)

• worthwhile || theo nott x reader (smut)

• point of view || draco malfoy x reader (angst, fluff)

• let us go || s.b x r.l x j.p x reader (angst)

• college parties || draco malfoy & theo nott x reader

i will add more in future !!

Unconditionally | R.L

Paring: Young!Remus Lupin X Gryffindor!Fem!Reader

Summary: Sirius and James don’t approve of Remus’ relationship with his girlfriend of four months.

Keep reading

helloooo i am so grateful to have found your page🥹 i’ve recently become hyperfixated on lupin again & your fics are a godsend!!

small request: (of age) student often visiting lupin for office hours although she doesn’t need any help; lupin secretly infatuated w her since the start of term, he’d been imagining her in various ways while he was alone & playing w himself; fluff & intimacy & smuttttt

i know you’re super busy so feel free to get to this whenever u can or even want to, love! thank you!!

Tea, Professor Lupin?

Masterlist AO3

Summary - You always found an excuse to visit Professor Lupin in his office hours. After a cup of tea one evening, you end up straddling him, grinding yourself against him. This is the beginning of many more encounters, until one afternoon he can't take it anymore and has you against the wall of his office. (2,229 words)

Warnings - teacher/student, age gap, biting, marking, making out, grinding, dry humping, rough sex, unprotected sex, my grammar (english is my second language), not proof read.

Notes - Thank you for your kind comment Anon! I had a lot of fun with this one. I don't even know if it all makes sense but I hope you enjoy! Little surprise at the end!

Remus Lupin sat in his quarters, a parchment lying forgotten in front of him, quill dried from lack of use. His mind, usually focused, was a mess of conflicting thoughts, of forbidden emotions, all centered around one person: you. Merely thinking your name sent a rush of heat through his loins. 

It was a torturous loop, playing over and over in his mind—the way the light from the window caught your hair, turning it into a shimmering halo; the way your lips parted slightly when you were lost in thought; the curve of your collarbone peeking out from the neckline of your school uniform, leading his gaze to places it shouldn't wander.

He remembered the way your skirt would hitch up slightly when you sat down, revealing just a bit more of your thigh, nothing inappropriate, but enough to stir a feeling within him—a reminder that he was, after all, a man.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and there you were, that demure look in your eyes, the slight flush on your cheeks, your skirt hiked up around your waist exposing the pale skin of your thighs. In his mind, you were kneeling right before him, looking up through long lashes, waiting for his command. The imagery was so vivid, so erotic that he could feel your breath on him. 

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, painfully aware of the growing tightness in his trousers. He palmed himself, pressing down on the hard ridge beneath, trying to alleviate the tension. But the contact only made it worse. A low groan escaped his lips as he decided to give into the sensation. 

There was no turning back now. The need for release, the burning desire, became overpowering. With trembling fingers, he unbuttoned his trousers and slid his hand inside, palming the warm, hard length of himself. He freed himself from the confines and began stroking, starting at the base and moving upwards, his thumb brushing over the sensitive tip. The sensation made his hips jerk in response and he couldn't help letting out a low curse. 

His thoughts spiraled further into fantasy - your soft moans, the fluttering of your eyelashes as you looked up at him, your lips stretched around him. A breathy "fuck..." escaped his lips as he felt himself nearing the edge. 

The tension coiled tightly in his lower belly, building with every rhythmic motion of his hand. His grip tightened, and he quickened his pace, driven by the impending climax. And then, with a final, desperate thrust into his own hand and a barely suppressed shout, he came, warmth spilling over his fingers in thick, pulsating spurts. His heart pounded in his ears as he tried to catch his breath, a lingering feeling of guilt for letting his mind wander like that. 

He told himself it was the last time he would give into such forbidden fantasies, although he knew his resolve was not very strong. Because you were his weakness. Every day you were his weakness. 

Every office hour you were his weakness. You would show up, knowing you absolutely did not need help with anything. Your intentions were not exactly pure; it was more about the man behind the desk than any lesson he might teach. You just wanted to be with him. To see him. To feel his gaze on you. So here you were again, hesitating at the door before knocking softly. 

"Come in," he called. 

You entered, your eyes finding his immediately. "Professor Lupin," you began with feigned innocence, "I was wondering if I might use your office to study? It's so quiet and calm here." 

He looked up, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Of course, Y/N," he replied, gesturing to a small desk by the window. "You're always welcome here."

You settled into the seat, trying to focus on your textbook, but acutely aware of the intensity of his gaze. Every so often, you would catch him stealing glances in your direction. His eyes would travel, lingering on your legs when they shifted or the curve of your neck when you leaned over your books. 

For Remus, the ritual became a torturous loop. The simple act of you being there, so close yet so far, tormented him. He found himself lost in his thoughts, the pages of his book becoming a blur. The tightening in his trousers a cruel reminder of the tension in the room. 

As the weeks went on, your interactions grew less formal. You would often arrive without a pretense of studying, and your conversations flowed easily. So much that one evening, you walked in without knocking, a playful grin on your face. "Professor," you teased, "I thought I might stop by for some tea and company." 

Remus chuckled, setting aside his paperwork. "Dropping the excuses, are we?" he responded, warming to your presence. 

You shrugged, your face glowing in the light of the fireplace. "Perhaps. I've come to appreciate our little talks." 

He summoned a pot of tea and poured you both a cup. "So have I," he admitted, his eyes searching yours. You both settled on the couch, the warmth of the fire creating a cozy atmosphere yet there was an undeniable tension. 

In the midst of your conversation, you drew nearer to each other, perhaps unconsciously, your knees brushing every now and then. Remus's every breath became a battle against his own desires, the proximity testing his resolve. 

He shifted uneasily, the close proximity awakening a forbidden hunger. "Y/N," he began, voice slightly raspy. "It's getting late. Perhaps you should head back to your dorm."

Your gaze moved from his eyes to his lips, your voice soft and innocent as you murmured, "But Professor...I don't really want to leave." 

He swallowed hard. "I don't want you to leave either," he almost whispered, every word heavy with the unspoken desires. "But I wouldn't want you getting in trouble..." Even as he spoke, he found himself leaning in, the pull impossible to resist. You were so close now; your breaths intermingled. 

You had every opportunity to pull away, but you didn't. And then the distance between you vanished as his lips met yours. The initial contact was tentative, a gentle exploration, as if he was asking permission. But the restraint soon faded as the kiss deepened, rapidly transformed into one of burning need. 

In an impulsive move, you swung a leg over, straddling him. You could feel his very evident arousal against you, making him groan as you began to move. 

"We shouldn't-" he managed, his voice thick with lust. But his protests were silenced by another deep groan, spurred by the rhythmic pressure of your movements against him. His hands, once hesitantly placed at your sides, now gripped your hips with a possessive fervor, guiding you as you continued to grind against the hard ridge of his length. 

Your moans and whimpers were intoxicating. His mouth trailed to your neck, biting and sucking on the delicate skin, tasting your warmth, leaving a territorial mark on you. The pace of your movements increased until you were unable to hold back anymore. He felt your body tense, a telltale sign of your climax, and his control slipped away rapidly. The soft whimper in his ear was all it took to push him over the edge. His hips jerked involuntarily as a sticky warmth seeped through his trousers. 

You stayed like that for a few moments, foreheads touching, catching your breaths and coming to terms with the line you'd just crossed. Remus looked mortified. "I...I'm sorry," he murmured, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. "This shouldn't have happened. It can't happen again."

You looked at him, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "No, it shouldn't," you replied sarcastically. And that's when he knew he had corrupted you, or perhaps you had corrupted him. It didn't really matter anymore because every evening, the ritual repeated. The pretext of "tea" had become a thinly veiled excuse for the intimate encounters that transpired between the two of you behind the closed door of his office. 

Remus was not even trying to dissuade you anymore. More often than not, he would pull you into his arms as soon as the door clicked shut. Your lips met, and the world outside disappeared. A light bite on your lower lip would elicit a whimper, and his mouth would quickly travel to your neck, where he discovered you were more sensitive. He reveled in these moments, intoxicated by the power he held over you. He loved marking you, a visible claim that you were his, although he knew he had no right as your Professor. 

There were nights where your need for intimacy transitioned from the physical to the emotional. He would be sprawled out on his office couch, and you would nestle yourself on top of him. His fingers would thread through your hair, and he would lean down to press a gentle kiss on your head. "How was your day?" he would ask. 

"It was okay. Potions was...intense," you murmured, the hint of a smile playing on your lips. 

Remus chuckled lightly. "Snape still giving you a hard time?"

You shook your head, your fingers dancing over the fabric of his shirt. "No, not really. I think he's just...Snape." 

Remus laughed softly. "True. That man is an enigma." He paused, his fingers stilling in your hair. "Y/N, we...we need to talk about this," he began, his voice hesitant, "about us." 

You lifted your head, your eyes meeting his, filled with a mix of fear and hope. "I know," you whispered.

He sighed, pressing another gentle kiss to your forehead. "It's just...our positions...it's complicated. I should've never allowed myself to act on my feelings. I had no right."

You shook your head, a silent tear rolling down your cheek. "But Remus, I feel safe here, with you. I want to be with you." 

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I feel the same way," he admitted. "But we have to be careful." 

You nodded, burying your face in his chest. "I understand."

Yet, his actions never followed his words. He would eat you alive with his eyes every class, touch himself to the thought of you at night, or pull you aside in the corridor to steal a kiss in the middle of the day. 

The sight of you, there in the hallway, acted as a siren's call. It was different this time. His gaze was not soft and playful. It was predatory and it went straight to your core. Without a word, he snatched your wrist, his grip firm, and pulled you along towards the closest room- his office. 

"Remus? What's going on?" you began, a bit surprised. 

"You," he growled, pressing you firmly against the wall. "I can't get enough of you," he breathed against your neck, his fingers working with a frenzied haste to lift your skirt and push down your panties swiftly. You gasped, sensing the barely contained need in his every movement. 

With a groan of frustration, Remus quickly undid his trousers. His erection was painfully hard, and he pressed it against you, savoring the wet heat and intimacy of the contact. "You feel that?" he whispered harshly, grinding against you. "This is what you do to me." 

You could barely respond, your breath hitching as you felt his tip rub against your entrance. "Please, Remus," you panted, your nails digging into his shoulders, back arching against him. 

He didn't need any more encouragement. With a sharp thrust, he entered you, burying himself deep as your legs hooked around his waist. 

"Fuck, Y/N," he grunted. "You feel so good." Every thrust was hard and frantic, the slap of your bodies echoing in the confined space. 

You clung to him desperately, your body rising to meet each of his powerful thrusts. The pleasure was almost too much, and soon you felt that familiar pressure building. "Remus," you whimpered, your walls clenching around him as you reached your climax. 

Feeling you tighten around him was his undoing. "Fuck..." he cursed again, thrusting even more relentlessly. "Gonna fill you up," he rasped. "Take it. Take all of me." 

Without further warning, he buried himself to the hilt, holding himself deep inside you as his release overtook him. You cried out, the intensity of his climax and his depth almost too much to handle. Each pulse of his length seemed to go on forever, filling you completely. 

Finally spent, he rested his forehead against yours, both of you panting heavily. He remained inside you for a moment longer, the soft pulsing of his length a lingering testament to what had just transpired. Slowly, he pulled out, his seed trickling down your thigh and onto the polished wood below, only for it to vanish with a flick of his wand. 

In a daze, you felt your panties being pulled back up. Moments later, you were back on the familiar couch, his arm wrapped protectively around you. 

Floating towards you were two cups of steaming tea. Remus looked down at you, his eyes still dark but with a hint of mischief. "Tea, Miss Y/N?" he teased. 

You smirked, taking the offered cup with shaky hands. "Why, thank you, Professor Lupin."