Me, the artist. You, my muse

A half squeal escaped your mouth, muffled by Lily's own incessant panicked ramblings. The ginger in question began pacing around the room, having a full scale crisis.

"Oh Merlin- Godrick's bleeding heart! How in the hell did I let myself get dragged into this?! This was just supposed to be a fun night. I get slightly too drunk on Marlene's spiked butter beer, flirt with James bloody Potter, and sleep the night away peacefully, but nooooo-"

You wished you could join in the oblivious panic, only you lacked the luxury of sleeping this all off and waking up with it all washed away.

You stomped closer to her, and grasped her shoulders firmly, catching her attention and snapping her out of her mania.

"Lily Marie Evans, get a hold of yourself and listen to me. Those are not your ridiculously attractive issues on the other side of that door. If anyone has the right to be losing their head right now, it's me. But I don't have that luxury, because if those boys are one thing, they're stubborn as all hell." You commended militantly, causing her to take a deep breath and nod as she processed your words.

How the hell did I end up the sane one?

You had no time to fully process that question.

"Now, here's what's going to happen. They're going to get in here one way or another, because of course they are."

Lily nodded once more, your hands gripped her shoulders a tad tighter.

"So, you're going harness every lying bone in your body, go answer that door, and tell them I'm not here. Tell them that I wasn't here when you got in, and that they'll just have to find me tomorrow."

Lily looked absolutely terrified, but under the weight of your serious tone, nodded finally. You took your hands off her shoulders slowly, stepping back three paces. She glanced towards you once more for reassurance as she stepped towards the door. You nodded in solidarity, causing her to take a deep breath and begin marching forward.

But before she even got more than two steps she paused, whipping her head back to you with a gust of realization.

"And what happens If they decide they want to take a look inside?!" Lily breathed.

You stilled similarly.

Shit, you hadn't thought of that.

But you were left with little time to think of a solution, as you heard Remus mutter a familiar incantation, and the alarming sound of the door handle unlocking shot through both the girls ears.

And so, as Lily sped to the door, catching the handle just before it was about to be fully turnt, you did the first thing that came to mind.

While Lily may have been strong, she was no match for Sirius' determined hubris. She struggled immensely to keep the door closed under the force of his push, and she knew it too, which is why she resolved.

She yanked the door open just enough to poke her head out, coming face to face with two of the four infamous marauders. Sirius and Remus stood there, a surprised look gracing both boys features as they started down at the red-head before them, and not, their self appointed angel.

Well, wasn't this unexpected?

Sirius was the first to recover from the surprise, immediately dipping into his natural charisma, leaning one arm against the doorframe as he looked over Lily suspiciously.

"Well hello Evans, what a surprise." He greeted, casual tone laced with amused skepticism.

Lily pushed the panic in her chest down as she plastered on an annoyed glare. "Evidently not, considering this is my dorm after all," She droned sardonically, eyes shifting to examine Remus, who stood next to his boyfriend with his arms crossed and one brow arched.

She ignored the disbelieving looks both boys garnered, "Now what could both you idiots need at this hour? I was trying to sleep."

Sirius clicked his tongue, gaze shifting to Remus. The two shared a knowing look, causing Lily to gulp in spite of herself.

Damn, she wasn't good at this. There was a reason she left James up to the mischief and bluffs.

"Right," Sirius hummed, a sly grin sliding into place. His grey eyes almost gleamed silver in that moment as they rooted her in place.

"You're a terrible liar Evans, and all three of us know it, so let's just cut to the chase."

Shit. The wood from the door nearly groaned under Lily's grasp as it tightened.

"You wouldn't happen to have seen a yay high-" Sirius moved his free hand to the approximate level of your height, "Adorably stubborn, gorgeous (H/C) frolicking about, would you?"

Lily's eye twitched.

Her eyes shifted to Remus once more, hoping to find any crumb of mercy in his soft brown irises. But alas, she would find nothing but pure determination on his composed scarred expression. After all, you were no simple matter.

Lily huffed, straightening her back and opening the door open just slightly, allowing herself enough room to slip the through the crack and pull it closed behind her.

She didn't miss how both the boys tried to sneak glances over her head as their view into the room widened slightly.

Now with both of their attention on her, she neutralized her expression, and did the best she could to stall them.

"If you're looking for (Y/N), then I won't be any help. She was gone when I got in." Lily offered, desperately hoping her false bravado wasn't too obvious.

Remus scoffed, his shoulder bumping against Sirius' as he took a step forward. "C'mon Lils, we both know that's not true." He sighed, carding a large hand through his perpetually untamable tawny locks. All this drabble was starting get him properly miffed.

Lily's jaw clenched, she was sure the boys noticed, but she hoped they thought it was from frustration and not from anxiety.

"Are you calling me a liar, Lupin?" She sassed, arms crossing. Sirius craned his head towards the ceiling and released a childish groan. "I swear you girls are as stubborn as you are pretty." He whined, his head plopping back down to reveal his ever-vexed glare.

Remus tutted, stuffing his hands in his pockets, rotating his jaw irately. He leaned down so that he was eye-level with the ginger witch, who started back at him, unwavering and unbothered by his weak intimidation tactics.

At least, that was how she came across to the young wizards in front of her. Mentally, she was just barely holding it together.

Remus bit his cheek, "As much as I hate to admit it, Sirius is right, I can smell her," Lily's demeanor faltered, for only a mere second. He inhaled slightly, and Lily couldn't help but notice how his pupils grew in size.

"I'd recognize the smell of roses anywhere, Lily."

Lily frowned, inhaling sharply and running a hand down her face. "I'm not entertaining this rubbish any longer, good night boys."

With that, she turned and opened the door, hoping they'd get the hint with it slammed on their noses. A mistake it turned out, because the second the door cracked open, Sirius' hand shout out and grabbed it.

Lily let out an utterly offended gasp as he wrenched it open, and both boys pushed past her, storming into the dorm with absolutely no regarded for proper etiquette.

Lily was in pure disbelief, "What in Merlin's name do you two idiots think you're doing?!" She practically shrieked.

Neither boys answered as they barreled into the room. The first thing Sirius noticed, was that you were somehow nowhere in sight. The second thing Remus noticed, was the state of the room itself.

You’re cute clothes were littered about the room, all your belongings piled onto your normally neat beside table. Your sheets and quilts, were jumbled up to suggest you had just gotten out of bed.

All of these factors were concerning to Remus. Moreover, what left him utterly perplexed was the fact that the room was drenched in you fresh scent, but somehow, it was seemingly empty save for him, Sirius, and Lily.

Sirius' eyebrows furrowed as he looked over the empty room, "Remus, are you sure you-"

"She's here Pads, I'm sure of it."

Lily was frozen in the doorway, eyes widened, pupils shrunk to dots. Sure enough, you were no were to be seen, so why did she still feel on edge?

Also, how in Godrick's name did you disappear so quickly?

Lily stumbled over all the possible explanations in her mind. Had you used a charm? Somehow learned how to apparate? Oh Merlin, had you jumped from the window in sheer panic?

The redhead was growing more anxious by the minute, nearly squeaking when the boys began opening all the doors, looking under all the furniture in the room in search of you.

Lily was sure her eyes flung to a new object in the room every millisecond, trying to feign some notion of relaxation. She hoped if she could zone out focusing on one thing, this whole situation would pass by in an instance, and the boys would leave.

Clearly though, fate wasn't that kind.

As she watched Remus kneel by the foot of your bed, she noticed something. Something in the upper right corner of your bed, wedged in between your pillow and the mattress, shifted.

What the bloody hell? Lily thought as her eyes narrowed on the small object.

It was small, white, ball-shaped... feathery? And, And...

Had a tiny beak, and two beady black eyes which stared right back at her.

Lily's heart stopped for a mere moment, as everything clicked in her academically accelerated brain.

That thing wedged in between your pillow and mattress was a bird. And not just any bird, but a tiny, adorable, dove.

And if Lily was half as smart as she let on (she was), she could surmise based her knowledge of you undergoing the animagus process, the boys colorful nicknames for you, and you affinity for romance, that that wasn't just any dove.

That was you.

"Oh, fuck." Lily blurted out, her own hand then promptly slapping against her mouth.

Both boys immediately diverted their attention to her outburst.

Sirius moved away from your closet, full attention now trained on the trembling girl in front of him. Slowly, he drifted into the center of the room, arms folding, eyes narrowing.

“Yes?” He remarked, lips pulled tighter than string. “Anything you’d like to share with the class, Evans?” He said her name like the very sound of it suggested fallacies.

Lily tried, she did, desperately- to not shift her glance towards your small feathery figure. But alas, instincts are instincts, and her gaze cut to you and back in less than a millisecond.

"Damn her..." You though, tiny white head pushing so far back into your body that your neck disappeared with it. Because of course Remus, who was crouched next to said bed, followed her gaze with his canine pupils.

Slowly, like a scene out of Godzilla, you watched his head lift towards you hesitantly. His pupils widened from dots to saucers in a minute, as he in took the comedic sight of your tiny white form trembling before him. In any other scenario, he would laugh so hard he would cough.

In this reality, he only let out a short laugh mingled with a sigh.

Cocking his head to the side, he tutted, "You know darling, on any other night I would applaud your tenacity for avoidance. But, knowing that it's aimed at me? Stings a bit, 'wont lie."

What was almost funnier than knowing that trembling, balled up, feathery creature was you, was watching the unmistakably human 'oh shit' look settle into you beady eyes.

Still, you un-puffed a bit, and wattled out from your corner. Beak down-turned, as you watched his doting chocolate eyes fill with warmth as you slowly approached him. Like second nature, Remus began to calmly rise from the floor, moving his hand towards you. His palm was cupped and pointed towards the ceiling, allowing you to dejectedly place one tiny talon into it, then the other.

He cradled you to his chest instantly, like you were the most precious thing in the entire universe. The normalcy of it made your heart clench, but not with warmth.

He's not yours, you reminded yourself, squeezing your eyes closed.

Though, that didn't stop you from involuntarily nuzzling into the warmth of his knitted sweater.

In slow careful strides, Remus approached Sirius, who had his hands on his hips, his brows furrowed as he watched his lover carry you over to him in your animagus form.

You rarely reverted to it for comfort. All who had completed the process knew, the smaller the creature you became, the more uncomfortable the transformation. You only resorted to your dove form on full-moons, straying not too far but not too close from the boys, perched in the old elm trees of the forbidden forest.

This was unusual for you, and by proxy, worrying. Sirius' pointer tapped against his forearm. Suddenly, he whisked towards Lily, who was still standing in her original spot, expression aghast at the casualty of the ordeal.

In two long strides, he was on her, politely yet swiftly pushing her towards the exit of the room by her shoulders.

"Right Evans, thanks for your help, not. We'll take it from here."

Lily gawked in utter rage and disbelief at his entitlement.

"Wha- How dare you Black?! You can't just banish me from my room in the middle of the night! Where will I sleep?!" She argued, yet allowed him to keep moving her. In her dumbfounded trance, she even allowed him to fully re-open the door and push her out of it.

Sirius smiled as she stood dazed in the hallway, but there was little warmth to it. "I'm sure Dorcas will be delighted to welcome you." He paused, before leaning forward and grinning evily.

Lily went to protest, almost like her wits had finally caught up to her. But just as she rushed forward, the quidditch goalie rushed faster.

Just before he slammed the door shut, Sirius called out,

"And if all else fails, go to ours! Pete's drunk on the common room couch, and I'm sure Jamesey is utterly lonely. You know how he gets, anyways, nitey-night darling!" Sing-songey tone muffled towards the end.

The click settled in Lily ear as she stood in front of the now locked door, and paused for only a moment.

Then, she stomped, letting out a short string of curses. "That's it!" Lily exclaimed turning and walking away from the door. "I'm NEVER helping you with boys again (Y/N)! Too much bloody trouble and never enough pay-off!"

As her voice traveled down the hallway, she hoped no one would wake and pop their heads out to investigate. Because if they did, they would find Hogwarts finest prefect not heading towards her friend's room, but in fact, taking indignant strides towards the boys side of the tower.

Inside the dorm room, you were not granted the same level of escapism. You sat, still in Remus' palm as he stood before Sirius who leveled you with an impatient look.

"So," He began, flicking his raven hair backwards as he straightened his shoulders. "Clearly, you've been avoiding us, correct?"

You hesitated for a moment, before nodding, slowly. Remus' pointer moved across your wings lightly, encouraging you silently.

Sirius' nose twitched, at least you were being honest. "Remus and I aren't exactly fond of when our little dove evades us. We're even less fond of when she tries to hide it, and then regresses to her room." He explains, slowly.

You nod again, small, feathered head bobbing with the movement.

"So," Remus' tone picks up the pause Sirius' left, "Why don't you transform back, and we can have a proper talk and figure out what's bothering you. Sound good?"

Again, the assertion is met with your tiny nod, though this one is much less decided.

Remus outstretches his palm and closes his eyes, prompting Sirius to do the same. It was odd watching you transform back. Going from such a small form to human size was always slightly odd to watch, and took a moment. Which was why they gave you the privacy and patience of an adverted glance.

Remus and Sirius tried not to flinch as the sounds of bones cracking and fabric shifting filled their ears. It was said that the more times an animagus transformed, the easier and quicker the change became. Sirius used his dog form for all manner of trickery and mischief, and so he had become able to shift between man and mutt in the blink of an eye.

You, on the other hand, only ever transformed monthly to support Remus, hence the slow difficulty of the process.

After a few minutes, the noises subsided, only to be followed by a soft "Ahem." which indicated to the boys that they could now open their eyes. They expected to be greeted with the normally pleasant sight of you in all your put together, elegant beauty. That was however not the sight they were met with.

Remus and Sirius attempted (and failed) to not make their surprise too evident on their features, however the state you appeared in was simply too jarring to warrant any other reaction.

There you stood, utterly disheveled in a tattered old sleep shirt that hung off your shoulders making you appear even smaller and weaker than you already felt.

Your hair was tangled and unkempt, a result of an entire evening spent crawling around in bed and not bothering to even glance at your hairbrush. Your eyes, which were usually alight with unrestrained joy, were now puffy and bloodshot, the skin around them blotchy. Your nose appeared to be even more irritated, as if you been rubbing at it for hours on end. Finally, your cheeks, which usually held a soft pink tint, were drained of all color.

Immediately upon registering the state you were in, your boys knew it as sure as they knew themselves; Something was undeniably wrong with you.

Needing to break the silence which now blanketed the room, you finally spoke, voice raspy from the scratchiness in your throat.

"Well," You uttered quietly, eyes darting around the room in an attempt to look anywhere but the two boys in front of you. "What do you want to talk about?" It was a stupid thing to say in hindsight, they had just told you why they were here. You only hoped out of some sense of misguided insecurity that the longer you stalled, the longer you could keep the admission which tugged at you down in your chest.

Unable to mask his vexation at your feigned ignorance, Sirius rolled his eyes, stepping forward to stand side by side with Remus. The boy in question leveled you with an unimpressed stare, crossing his arms over his chest in a manner which resembled a parent about to scold a naughty child.

Before Remus could reply to your obvious question with an even more obvious answer, Sirius beat him to it.

"No need to act coy, love. We've already told you exactly why we're barging into your dorm at this hour." His tone was laced with unabashed attitude, as he cocked an eyebrow at you.

Shoulders tensing, you began to wring your hands in front of you, anxiety biting at you like a stray dog. Not trusting the stability of your weak knees under the weight of the two boys judgement, you backed up a few paces before you stood in front of your bed. Sniffing indignantly, you lowered yourself onto the mattress, now fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as you searched your mind for a reply.

"Nope, sorry. Still haven't got a clue, really." Fucking Idiot, you cursed at yourself. It seemed in this moment, you were unable to cling to anything but your petulant resolve.

Unsurprisingly, your avoidance only served to strike a nerve with Remus, who appeared to be done beating around the bush. Suddenly, like something within him had snapped, he surged forward only to stop when his lower legs pressed against your knees. He glared down at you with cool irritation, amber filling his mahogany irises.

"Enough with the games," He snapped, firm tone causing shivers to rack your skin.

"You've been avoiding us all week, dove. Everyone knows it. Whenever we walk into a room, you conveniently find something which causes you to leave. Whenever we ask you to spend time with us, you're busy. And you haven't so much as even made eye contact with either of us for more than five bloody seconds." With every assertion, Remus' voice became rougher, the irritation in him building by the second.

You found yourself shrinking under his aggrieved gaze, shoulders closing in on your torso. You knew eventually you would have to come clean to the both of them, but you had hoped you would have more time to craft an eloquent confession. Now, it seemed any words you tried to squeeze out died on your tongue, and all you could manage was the repetitive motion of your fingers tugging at the stitching on your shirt.

Both boys stood silent as they watched you continuously open and shut your mouth, searching for any viable response to the accusations laid before you. Accusations, that were frankly impossible to deny.

"I.." You finally murmured, eyes casting aside from either boy once more, "I've really just been busy, s'that so hard to believe?"

You held your breath for a moment- and then, before you could help yourself, the rest of your sentence fell off your tongue like water bursting from a pipe.

The blasé tone you forced out felt like nails scratching against the inside of your throat as you willed it to surface,

"My whole life doesn't just revolve around you two, y'know. Honestly, you both need to quit being so bloody dramat-"

Before you could even finish the lie, a strong hand jutted forward, firmly clasping your jaw and forcing your head forward. Just where Remus Lupin's molten eyes were waiting for you, angry as all hell as he crouched down to bring your face closer to his.

"Cut the shit, (Y/N)." He growled, warm minty breath fanning across your lips as he brought your faces so damn close, you could fucking smell the cigarette smoke that clung to his rumpled sweater.

Breath hitching at his tone, you swore you could almost see his pupils dilating as they held your own pinched ones in a unbreakable hold. His long, firm fingers clenched subconsciously around your jaw, drawing a soft gasp from the depths of your throat.

Shit, you thought. You had never seen Remus this angry before, at least not at you.

Was it fucked up that you kind of... liked it?

Well, not that it mattered. The morality of that discovery wasn't exactly up to you, judging by the way your core heated, and wetness expelled between your thighs before you even had the mind to clench them.

Double shit, you thought again. You really hoped your sleep shorts were thick enough to mask the scent, though judging by the way Remus' nose twitched as his tongue jutted out from his mouth and mindlessly dragged across his lips, you were beginning to silently panic that that wasn't the case.

"Now," He spoke again, tone now decidedly deeper and edged with something faintly dangerous. "You know us well enough to know we don't take kindly to lies, right Pads?"

Suddenly another hand drifted across your exposed shoulder, this one smoother and distinctly deliberate in its motions. You didn't need to look to confirm what you already knew. At some point, while Remus literally held your attention in a wrought iron grip, Sirius must've slyly drifted from his spot across the room and found a new one next to you on the bed.

And now, he was just as close as Remus, warm breath stuttering over the exposed skin of your neck and shoulder blade.

Damn that sneaky bastard, sometimes you swore he was only sorted into Gryffindor out of spite to his family alone.

"That's right, Moony." Sirius' seductive drawl crooned into your ear, causing you to shiver instinctively. You started to turn your neck, but before you could attempt to lock eyes with your raven-haired boy, your impatient brunette pulled your chin back in his direction, smushing your checks and puffing out your lips slightly.

Though it could've just been a flicker of your desperate imagination, you thought you caught the dangerous sheen of something deeply masculine and primal shifting behind those chocolate irises before Remus tampered it down with whatever endless restraint he maintained within him.

"Now, Lovebug," He smiled, but it all it managed to do was make him look somehow meaner, "We're gonna give you one more opportunity to be honest with us before we're forced to take drastic measures." He leaned in even further than you thought possible, causing your face to absolutely burn with flustered heat, your breath thinning to helpless little puffs against his lips.

"Because to be completely honest, Love, Sirius and I are both at the ends of our fucking ropes. And if you lie to us one more time, you might just finally push us off the deep end." His deep, confident, sure tone turned your brain into liquid, and before you could even think about what you were committing to, you nodded, dumbly.

The slow, submissive action caused Remus's grin to spread even further, canines exposing themselves and causing your core to clench again. In your peripheral vision, you saw Sirius make a nearly identical face, eyes only marginally more lidded as the hand not rubbing circles into your shoulder shifted to press firmly against your lower back.

"Good girl, lovie," Sirius praised, "You know we hate being angry at you. just tell us what we've done to upset you, and everything can go back to normal."

Back... to normal?

As the words settled in your mind, your resolved crumbled. Fuck, you didn't want everything to go back to normal. You wanted this, in fact, you wanted more.

You wanted their heady, masculine scents mixed and laid deep in your skin. Sirius' spicy cologne, and Remus' natural woodish musk.

You wanted their hands on your body, Remus' on your neck, and Sirius' clasping your wrists.

You wanted them to hold you down and mar those praises into the very fabric of your being as they forced you to the brink of pleasure over, and over again.

And when it was all said and done? You wanted them to hold you close, and kiss away your tears, stitching you back together just before they prepared to break you once more.

You wanted that, and you wanted it to last forever. In fact, you realized in that moment, that you weren't capable of wanting anything else, ever again.

And that realization? That, was what finally broke you.

Without meaning to at all, your body pitched forward, breaking from Remus' hold as you nudged your face deep into the crook of his neck, sobs bursting from your chest instantly.

"Woah, woah," Remus uttered softly, long arms clasping around your marginally smaller frame and crushing you against his chest without a second thought.

"Shhh, it's okay love. It's all gonna be okay."

His gentle reassurance only caused you to cry harder, tears coating the skin of his neck as your hands clenched his sweater in search for anything to ground you.

Your cries caused Sirius to move forward without a moment to waste, hands tunneling into your hair, chest pressing close against your encircled back as he nearly sandwiched you in between him and his boyfriend.

"Shit lovebug, we're sorry if we scared you. We just can't stand it when you keep away from us is all. I promise we're not mad at you, not at all. We just wanted to know what's got you all upset."

Your sobs began to subside to small hiccups as his skilled hands raked through your hair, gently untangling the knots and scratching your scalp. Nearly in tandem with his movements, Remus began to coaxingly rub his hands against your sides, ushering you to calm at your own pace.

"You can tell us, lovely. Really. We won't think any less of you for it, whatever it is. We'll get through it together, like always."

Like always... What a sweet sentiment. You just hoped it was the truth, because at this point, with how tenderly these boys were treating you, your body couldn't fathom holding off from them any longer.

"You," you gasped lowly into his throat, "Y'promise you won't be mad?"

The soft question made Remus' arms tighten around you, and Sirius' nails drag slower against your scalp.

"Never, love." Remus whispered, and like the two shared a mind, (rightly you'd believe they did) Sirius picked up where his sentence trailed off.

"Never at you."

Finally, their prying affirmations caused what little was left of your resolve to crumble. You pulled back slightly, leaning into Sirius' chest, and looking back into Remus' eyes, which softened so deeply at the sight of your watery ones, you damn near began to cry again.

"I know this is going to change everything," You slowly began, voice so quiet the two nearly had to strain to catch your words. Even Remus, lycan senses and all.

"But... I can't hold it in anymore." You all but whimpered, mentally kicking yourself for the principle of it.

The boys held their breaths as you fell quiet for one moment more, anticipation filling the room so to the brim, it nearly suffocated the three of you,

Finally, you allowed your eyes to fall closed and said it.

"I love you," You croaked, entire chest nearly convulsing, "Both of you. And not as friends. Not as family, but as something more. I think I've loved you both for quite some time. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for only realizing it now, I'm sorry for it coming out this way, I'm sorry for completely shattering your trust. But most of all, I'm sorry that-"

I'm sorry that I can't make it stop. That's what you were going to say, and what you would have said, if not for the oxygen-robbing reality of Remus Lupin surging forward, and capturing your mouth with his, halting your little tangent all together.

Your eyes shot open, complete surprise surging through your entire body, as the unbelievable yet somehow very real realization that Remus Lupin, one of your best friends, and now loves of your life, was kissing you caused your mouth to part in total shock.

Remus, on the other hand, seemed less than concerned by the fact that his lips molding against yours caused you to go nearly stupid with disbelief. In fact, he seemed quite satisfied with himself as he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and tangle it with yours, strong, steady hands massaging anywhere on your torso they could reach while pulling you deeper into him.

Before you even knew what you were doing, your brows furrowed and your eyes fluttered closed as you began to melt into him, kissing him back with a needy, submissive, muffled moan. A moan which Remus gladly met with an impossibly deep and resonant groan you felt all the way to your toes.

As your tongues continued to dance happily, and your lips moved in tandem, you willingly surrendered yourself deeper and deeper to the dizzying, all-consuming force that was Remus Lupin.

Fuck, he's a really good kisser. His lips are even softer than you imagined-

The haughty notion broke off in your brain swiftly as you felt a second pair of lips mold against you, sucking and biting into the now scorching skin of your neck. A shrill gasp tore from your throat and died in Remus' mouth as Sirius went to quick work marking you up nice and sure. He moved behind you swiftly, trapping your thighs between his on the bed as his pelvis settled flush against your lower-back, something hot and hard digging into your spine.

Oh my fucking gods, is that his-

Suddenly, all your sanity returned to you at once, and you wrenched away from Remus and Sirius' hypnotizing holds, nearly flopping onto the side of the mattress and scurrying away like a mouse as you searched for escape.

"Woah," You gasped, nearly absent of all breath as you finally came up for air, steadying yourself on wobbly elbows as your wide eyes tracked both the boys inches away from you.

"Woah. Woah, woah!" You nearly squealed. "What the hell was that."

As you took in the appearances of both boys, you felt like you were finally seeing them for the first time ever. At least, some part they'd never quite shown you before.

Remus, who had somehow been crouching that entire time, fell onto his knees before the bed, breath utterly ragged and eyes burning with desire as the locked onto you like prey. They crawled across the entire length of your flushed, gasping figure before settling at your eyes, and boring into your soul once more.

Sirius, look just as if not more animalistic, if that was even possible. Long legs stretched and hanging off the bed from where they had just bracketed your hips, hands fisting the bed sheets beneath him, the fervent look in his quicksilver eyes suggested he was about five seconds from lunging across the bed and capturing you in his grasp once more.

Oh, you nearly squeaked when your eyes dipped down of their own accord. And he was hard. Achingly so, bulge painfully straining against the fabric of his trousers.

And by the way Remus heaved deeply through his nose, you suspected if you leaned over the edge of the bed and looked down, you'd find he was in likely a similar, if not identical state.

For a moment, neither of the boys answered your question, likely too pre-occupied with trying to wrestle against whatever innate urges had them eyeing you like a couple of dogs with a fresh bone. Their silence left room for only the sound of your shallow gasps mixing with their deep, measured breaths, creating a near perfect melody of desire you wished you could bottle and keep in a jar forever.

Maybe you could, was there a spell for that?

Before you could debate reaching for one of the spell books that sat on a stack upon your bedside table, Sirius slowly leaned towards you, propping his head to the side as he regarded you with a tender smile.

"That, love," His voice was deep and so smooth it nearly made you moan, "Was both of us finally doing what we've wanted to do since we were fourteen fucking years old."

His words pulled a sharp gasp from your lungs, eyes widening to saucers as you stared at him in disbelief.

No, there was no way. This wasn't happening, you simply weren't lucky enough. This was all a dream; Lily had clearly spelled you to sleep so she didn't have to deal with your theatrics any longer, if you could only just wake up you'd see-

"It's true, my love." Remus' voice was a gravelly balm on your incessant mental ramblings, puling your focus in his direction, causing you to watch his beautiful, scarred hand as it slowly crept forward and closed around your ankle. The clear, solid warmth of his skin against yours served as an undeniable confirmation of what you hadn't allowed yourself to hope for, this was real.

This was real, and better than anything you could ever have imagined.

Remus' thumb caressed the bone of your ankle as he looked over you with a swelling, evident emotion that he had time and time before, but you simply didn't have the ability to put a name to until now.

Love.

"See, you may have only just realized that you love us," He murmured warmly, "But we've known since the first day you barged into our train car and refused to leave our sides." The admission was ended in a grin, and it was so blindingly beautiful you felt your heart leap in your chest.

"But," You muttered dumbly, "But you two... You two are-"

"Together." Sirius supplied, unable to hide the absolute satisfaction that painted his entire expression as without looking away from you, he sat up, pulled Remus in by the collar of his shirt, and kissed him with a firm stamp, eyes never leaving yours.

"Yes," he hummed as he pulled away slowly, scooting a bit backwards so the tanner boy before him could kneel on the bed between his thighs, nearly stretching Sirius' legs across his knees.

"We are." His grey eyes left yours for only a moment to appraise the boy kneeling above him, before they settled back to your flustered gaze.

"And we want you to be with us too, always have." A short, bemused huff interjected his sentence, "We were just always too worried about you not feeling the same. Guess all that worrying was for nothin', huh Moony?"

"Guess so, Pads." Remus, who still hadn't let go of your ankle, used to leveraged to quickly yank your entire body back in their direction.

"But look on the bright side, now that we know we wasted all that time for nothing? We can finally do all the things we've been wanting to do to our sweet little angel for years."

Moving like single unit, the pair maneuvered your boneless body between them so that you sat on Sirius' lap, his chest to your back, with Remus kneeling in front of you, your core pressed against his crotch.

Eyes holding yours with what could only be described sure dominance, Remus never broke eye contact as his large, rough hands splayed across your thighs and traveled up your hips before disappearing beneath your sleep shirt.

All the while, Sirius from behind you, never one to part with being the center of attention for long, gathered your hair in a tight grip, yanking it back firmly and causing a moan to tumble from your lips as he bared your neck to Remus.

"So, lovie." Sirius growled against the expanse of you fragile, beautifully bared throat.

"We would absolutely love to reassure your senseless little worries, and prove to you just how much we've wanted you like you've wanted us, but before then, we just need one thing. Don't we, Remus?"

Remus leaned forward breath ghosting against your swollen lips, nimble fingers still moving up your bare torso beneath your shirt and stopping just short of underneath your breasts.

"That's right." He huffed, "We just need you tell us you're sure you really want this. Because after that confirmation? There's no going back, this is what we will be from now on."

He underscored the promise with a slight brush of his pointer finger against the underside of your aching tit, drawing a stuttered groan from you easily.

You thought for only a second before replying, and even though you felt completely sure in your decision, it still came out in a fluttery whine.

"Yes," You gasped wantonly, "Make me yours, please. Rem... Siri, it's all I want, it's all I'll ever be able to want again."

Your words hang in the heavy air for only a second before they fire the boys off like race horses. A near feral groan tearing out of his throat, Sirius uses his grip on your hair to wrench your neck back over his shoulder, turning it slightly to smash his lips on to yours.

And if you thought Remus was a good kisser? Well, you had no idea quite what you were in for. Sirius licked his way into your mouth in sure, slow strokes, moaning and grunting with every movement of your swollen plump lips against his. His unabashed, unashamed desire for the mere act of only kissing you served to ignite you even further, and in a matter of seconds you were matching every masculine sound that vibrated from his throat with whines and whimpers of your own.

He continued kissing you at his maddening languid pace until your lungs burned for breath, and only when you had to pull away with a gasp to stop from going lightheaded, did he relent to placing gentle nips on the skin of your lips and jaw to curb his appetite.

Of course, as with everything else with Sirius, that patience didn't last long, and the second your breath evened out he was pulling you back in with the ferocity of someone who had waited forever for this moment.

And you know what? Judging by what the boys admitted to you earlier, maybe he had.

God, you had been such a bloody idiot, hadn't you?

While Sirius kept you occupied by the mouth, Remus deigned to take it upon himself and push your sleep shirt up and over your chest, bunching it by your neck and completely freeing your bare tits to the cold, open air. Before you could even consider being shy at the prospect of Remus Lupin, your best friend since first year, seeing your puckered puffy nipples in all their glory, he quickly snuffed any insecurity from you by leaning down and taking one of said nipples into his hot, bruising mouth.

Your moans, which before had been low and soft in Sirius' mouth, heightened to unexpectedly shameless levels of noise as Remus swirled his strong tongue around one nipple, and pinched his fingers around the other, kneading the taunt mounds of your breasts in time with every wet lash against your areola. You couldn't help but begin squirming, undulating and grinding your hips back and forth between the press of the two boys' pelvises as they began to time their movements in a tandem rhythm. It shouldn't have surprised you, how in sync they would be.

The two of them, even before their bond had turned romantic had always been perfectly aligned in ways damn near telepathic. So, the fact that they were able to work in perfect harmony to blow your fucking mind and drag you to the precipice of pleasure? It should have come as an expectation to be honest.

Still though, your mind was left in a dizzying swirl that only spiraled deeper and deeper with every press of their bodies against yours.

And when Sirius reached down to pry your thighs apart, splaying you nice and open for Remus to reach down and shove his hand into the waistband of your shorts to find the bare, wet, scorching cunt awaiting him? You damn near came from the first swipe of his middle finger against your pulsing slit.

And so did Remus, apparently, given the way he yanked his head back from your chest and released a heavy groan.

"Fuck, lovie, y'already nice and bare waiting for us, hm? Were you just going to crawl in bed wearing nothing but some thin little shorts and a baggy old tee?" The deep growl that laced his words caused you to shiver as he pressed his middle and index finger deeper into your honeyed heat, not thrusting in quiet yet, but catching and teasing the rim of your wet hole.

Finally, Sirius let you pull back with a grunt, only to dig his teeth into his bottom lips as he watched your sweet little face contort in pleasure.

You were caught between whether to stare into his piercing silver eyes or Remus' boundless brown ones as both boys continued to ring you for pleasure, grinning and cooing at you every time their movements pulled desperate little titters from your lips.

"Betcha' she decided to go without panties so she could easily touch herself while thinking of us." Sirius taunted patronizingly, "S'that right baby? Were you planning on sinking those delicate, needy little fingers into all that hot, wet honey tonight while you wished it was us instead?"

At first, all you could manage was a shy nod and a demure moan in response, but clearly, that wasn't good enough for either of your boys.

With no warning, Remus plunged those long, sturdy fingers in deep, soliciting a high pitched half-scream from your throat that almost turned into a whole one as he used his thumb to grind hard circles into your clit.

"Not good enough, sweetheart. If you want me to let you cum, you're going to have to become well enough acquainted with using your words." Remus scolded, that same mean smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Listen to 'im, lovebug." Sirius mumbled into your throat, "Remus doesn't do well with disobedient pets." He bit the junction of your shoulder for good measure, grinning as he stared fixated at the image of his first lover grinding his fingers into the sweet pussy of his second.

"You'd know, wouldn't you Pads?" Remus leveled the boy with a warning stare, maintaining eye contact as he leisurely dragged his fingers in and out of your constricting, gummy walls.

In the heat of it all, you still didn't miss how the threat caused Sirius to pulse against the cleft of your ass.

"Mmm- yes!" You babbled dumbly, "Yes, 'was gonna touch myself tonight in the bathroom thinking of you two..."

"Have been all week," You nearly sobbed as the admission caused Remus to plunge his fingers even further, "Haven't been able to go to sleep any other way..."

And while you swore Remus was the only wolf in the room, you could've easily believed Sirius was one too by the way both boys nearly bared their teeth in matching grins.

"Well, then." Remus hummed, voice so gravelly you felt yourself gush slick down the valley of your cheeks, soaking through your shorts and wetting the bed beneath you.

"It's a good thing we got all those silly, complicated feelings out of the way. Now, you can have the real thing instead."

And at that, he quickly extracted his fingers, roughly yanking your shorts cleanly off your hips and down your legs, chucking them over his shoulder without care in the world for where in the room they might land.

You felt heat surge through your body like a live wire as you watched Remus sink to his knees by the edge of the bed, expertly hoisting your thighs over his shoulders and yanking you forward so your lower half was fully supported only by the structure of his lean, muscular frame.

Too shaky from anticipation to hold yourself upright, you allowed yourself to fully fall back against Sirius' chest, pulling your lower lip beneath your teeth as you nearly bucked from the hot puff of oxygen Remus expelled against your warm, aching channel.

And Remus, ever the silent trickster, only allowed you that one quiet warning before he dove in whole heartedly, suctioning his mouth to your cunt and plunging that long, skilled tongue deep inside your quivering hole.

You cried out with reckless abandon, reaching back to grip Sirius' shoulder as Remus plunged his tongue in and out of your in hard, even strokes, groaning as he ground deeper and nosed at your clit.

"Godrick," Sirius moaned lowly, eyes full of heat and fingers digging into your thighs as he continued to hold you open for Remus.

"Isn't that a sight... Tell me how she tastes Moons, I bet she's fucking delicious."

The question caused Remus to release a low, vibrating laugh against your core that caused you to jolt, keeling and whining as he continued his maddening minstrations.

"Oh trust me, Pads," He hummed deviously, "You'll find out for yourself after I'm finished." And at that, he went silent, completely focused on the task of making you come so hard you saw stars.

As the boys continued in their join efforts, you fully gave yourself to desire, grinding your pussy further into Remus' mouth and gripping Sirius hard enough to bruise as they pulled those sinful, delirious noises from you, one after the other.

If you had been in your right mind, you would have considered the fact that the castle walls were not nearly as thick as one might believe, and the entirety of the girls dormitory were likely currently unwilling audience members to the mind melting head you were receiving from one boy, while his boyfriend pinned you spread for him.

However, you were in fact not in your right mind. You were instead rendered absolutely stupid by Remus' sure, probing licks, and Sirius heated nips and sucks against the skin of your neck.

Quickly approaching the peak of your pleasure, you were momentarily distracted by a flash of confusion as Sirius slowly shifted out from beneath you, scooting to the side and gently lowering your back flat on the mattress as Remus replaced the hands holding you open with his own.

Still writhing from pleasure, but dissatisfied at the thought of one of your boys moving away form you, you began to whine and reach out for him, which Sirius quickly tempered by grabbing your hand tenderly and shushing you sweetly as he petted across your sweat-slicked hairline.

"Shhh, s'okay lovie, I'm not going anywhere, just want to try something if that's okay with you."

Worry draining out of you immediately at his reassurance, you nodded softly without a second thought, unable to form words as you felt that tight, familiar coil build in your core, pulling more and more taunt with every movement of Remus' mouth against your sopping pussy.

Sirius smiled down at you, eyes warming like he was gazing upon the dearest thing in the world as he slowly let go of your hand, and reached for the zipper of his trousers.

You felt your pupils dilate as your eyes zeroed in on Sirius' crotch, salivating as he pulled the zipper down, and shoved his boxers aside, stealing your breath from you without even touching you as he pulled his long, pale, silky cock out from his pants.

You began to whine even louder as he jerked it in front of your face with tight, merciless, corkscrew tugs, chest heaving as low groans vibrated from his throat.

"Lovebug..." He grunted, drawing out the word dangerously, "Would you be my perfect girl and suck my cock into your desperate, hot little mouth while Remus makes you come with his?"

You barely waited for him to finish his request before you were letting your mouth fall open and sticking out your tongue, high on the pleasure and desire building deep within you as Remus began to speed up the thrusts of his tongue and rubbed his nose harder into your sensitive bud.

Sirius appraised you with sheer, frustratingly male satisfaction, tunneling his fingers back into your hair and keeping a firm hold on your scalp as he sat up on his knees, and shuffled closer. He brought the rosy flushed tip of his cock closer to your face and tapped it gently on the tip of your tongue as he continued to jack it up and down.

Before you even really knew what was happening, the coil in your abdomen began to pull taunt, and came to a devastating snap as Remus reached a new depth inside you with his tongue, pressing his nose so hard against your clit that you were cumming with the first plunge of Sirius' dick down your throat.

The unbelievable, overwhelming flash of pure pleasure caused your vision to go white as your thighs clenched around Remus' head, and your mouth hollowed around Sirius' cock, moans vibrating around the thick length as tears began to leak from the corner of your eyes.

Sirius moaned brazenly, holding your face flush against the soft, well-groomed patch of hair at his pelvis as he just absorbed the all-consuming sensation of the hot walls of your mouth coupled with the moans from your throat as they constricted around his dick.

He would've thought you would gag at the feeling of his tip brushing against the back of your throat as he ground himself deep into your wanting mouth, however it seemed you were too distracting by the overwhelming pleasure of Remus continuing to go down on you even as you rode out the after shocks of your orgasm.

In fact, as your whines increased in frequency and your lips tightened around his base, it became apparent that all the pleasure you were experiencing was managing to do was make you even more eager to give it back ten-fold.

"Mmm fuuuuck, Rems." Sirius moaned, eyes rolling back into his head as he finally began to thrust in and out of your mouth in steady, slow strokes.

"I think our girl sucks even harder when she's coming." He bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, whole body thrumming with need as he was finally able to envelope himself in the reality of the girl he'd loved ever since he was a kid wholly and completely surrendering herself to him.

Seemingly satisfied with the puddle of achey longing and contentment he had made of you, Remus finally pulled back from your dripping cunt and lowered your thighs from his shoulders. He stood up slowly between your parted legs and loomed over your form like a twisted fallen angel of desire as he watched the man he loved thrust in and out of the mouth of the woman he loved, all whist you lay there happily, taking it with sweet, adoring submission.

The two boys locked eyes as Remus began to lean forward over your prone body, stroking up your soft stomach and rubbing adoring circles into your ribs with one hand as he used the other the fist the hair at the nape of Sirius' neck, tugging him forward and marring their lips together.

The action caused Sirius to groan louder, thrusts increasing in depth and speed, pulling gargled small gags from the back of your throat that didn't deter you as you continued to suck him nice and tightly, just like the good girl they claimed you to be.

Sirius nearly felt his intelligence leaking out of his ears as the tangy, musky, addicting taste of your juices passed from Remus' tongue to Sirius' as they clashed their teeth together, not nearly concerned with being as gentle with each other as they were when they kissed you, their soft, lovely girl.

The two continued to make out over you for only a few minutes more, Sirius' hips beginning to stutter in a way that suggested he was close to his own edge as Remus finally released his mouth with a sharp nipping tug on the pale boys lower lip.

Both boys returned their attention to you immediately, becoming utterly fixated on the thin sheen of sweat the coated your entire flushed, bare body. From the clenched tips of your toes, to the ruddy apples of your cheeks as you continued to adamantly suck and squeeze around Sirius' cock.

Whether out of desire to reward you yet again for being such a good fucking girl, or simply out of being thoroughly pent up from refraining to relieve himself, Remus' eyes darkened considerably as he seemed to come to a decision within his mind.

He tapped on the bone of Sirius' hip through his trousers, giving the other boy a wordless command to slow and then stop his movements into your mouth all together as he came to a stall, heaving and shaking from the will to hold himself off when he was so close to finishing.

The pause caused you to return to a moment of clarity, pulling your head back slightly to drag your blurred gaze up to the scarred, brunette boy looming over you.

You felt a jolt of anticipation surge into your bones as you registered the startling intensity of his mahogany stare. And like a predator tracking his prey, Remus' gaze only continued to darken at the almost fearful look swimming in your eyes, mouth stretching into a grin that bared his teeth.

Rubbing up and down your ribs, he lowered his head slightly, husky voice crawling across your skin like an infernal, phantom caress.

"My sweet girl..." He crooned, eyes gleaming like a monster of old, "I want to give you my cock, now. I want to shove it far inside of you and hold it so deep, you'll never question how either of us feel for you ever again."

The words caused you to fully pull back off of Sirius' cock, a sputtered gasp puffing out from your lips as you began to tremble in want.

Remus tilted his head, the action all too wolf-like.

"Do you want that too, my love?"

Maybe it was the desire to finally claim some part of him, maybe it was the way Sirius continued to pet against your scalp, coaxing you deeper into obedience, but you paused for only a second before the question beckoned an endearing beam onto your face that consumed your entire expression.

"Yes," you demurred, reaching out to stroke Sirius' wet cock and arching your back for Remus as you felt so full of love, and so utterly satiated that your heart could've burst from overdrive any minute.

"Yes, my loves. Fill me completely, I'm yours. Remind me of all the reasons why."

The statement purring from your darling, delectable mouth was all the two boys needed before they crossed the bridge of no return, hand in hand.

Gently plucking your hand from his cock, Sirius turned your head and sank back into your mouth, resuming at the same punishing pace he halted at earlier.

Remus, hands nearly shaking from anticipation, unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them down below his hips, chucking them off quickly before dispensing of his boxers in one fluid movement.

While it was difficult to get a full view of it as you were occupied chocking on Sirius' impressively long cock, the quick glance you got at Remus' had you nearly squirming in delight.

Where Sirius was long, pale, and flushed, Remus was much tanner and slightly shorter. However he was so impossibly thick that even holding himself in his large hand, the sheer viewable girth of him had you clenching your thighs in want.

Remus tutted at the action, reaching down to wrench your legs apart and hauling your thighs around his hips, which you locked happily behind him with a quick crossing of your ankles.

He swiped the bulbous head of his cock up and down your slit with a few introductory slides that had you trembling as his hot, hard tip became acquainted with your own sweltering wetness.

And then after the fourth swipe, he allowed the tip to catch the rim of your hole and slowly, painfully slowly, began to push inside.

It was at the moment, as he pushed the first few inches in with no resistance as a result of you already being fairly loosened up from your previous endeavors, that you let your eyes fall closed and go lazy beneath your lids at the sheer pleasure that came from his girth stretching your sensitive walls.

"Ah," Remus scolded, slapping your hip slightly and causing your eyes to pop back open.

"Keep those eyes open f'me as I fuck my cock into you, love. In fact, if it's easier, go ahead and look up at Sirius as he comes down that throat while I work myself into you."

Unable to do anything but follow his dominating commands, you dragged your gaze up to Sirius' silver one, humming and sucking him deeper as he began to thrust down your throat at his quickest pace yet.

Whether it was the heat of the moment coming to a head, or if he had just simply reached that point, it was clear Sirius was finally toppeling off that cliff as his expression pinched in the most beautiful way, a long, uninterrupted moan breaking from his lips.

"Fuck, fuuuck. Shit, m'cumming, love. You're gonna take it so good for me, take it-"

And whatever else he was going to say, he was unable to verbalize as his hips stuttered one final time, and he held your nose flush against his pelvis as he came down your throat in long, thick spurts.

You drank up his spend happily, only pulling back with a crisp pop when it was all swallowed and gone from your tongue.

And Remus? Remus was about as mean as he was handsome. Because the second your mouth no longer had anything in it to muffle its sounds, he shot forward and sheathed himself fully in your honeyed heat, forcing you to take each mercilessly thick inch at once.

The sudden thrust pulled a moan from your throat so loud, it could've been more aptly described as a scream, as you threw your head back further against the mattress below you and clenched the bedsheet in two tight, grounding grips.

Remus' cock head kissed your cervix slightly, and stretched your drenched walls so far around him that him that it elicited a burn that was almost just as pleasurable as it was painful.

You had had sex before. With as many relationships as you had under your belt, you were no stranger to it. However, sex with these two? It was safe to say, it was nothing like you had ever experienced before.

It was so impossibly intense and all consuming, that you felt like you were losing your mind in the best way possible.

And if the way Remus started slowly thrusting in an out of you was adding to your insanity? Then you never wanted to be sane ever again.

Clenching his jaw, Remus restrained himself from thrusting into you deep and hard like he wanted, knowing he had to work you up to that point.

So he started with pulling in and out of you in deep, even drives that almost pushed your body up agains the wall with every movement, and caused you to choke on watery, brittle sobs.

Sirius, now recovered from his own orgasm, leaned back over you and teased your nipples back into points, plying you with sugary, addictive praises that caused you to gush more slick which made Remus' movements easily become quicker and less painful.

"That's it, doing so good for us, lovie."

"Taking good ol' Moony's big cock like a champ, I know it's a lot."

"Fuck, such a pretty, perfect body. Keep opening up and sucking him nice and deep my love."

"Never gonna let you go ever again, you ours now, lovebug. Ours, forever and always."

"And we're gonna take such good care of you, won't we?"

Every whispered promise made your mind go number and number, cunt expelling so much wetness that Remus barely needed to thumb your clit to make you begin clenching and pulsing, pussy beckoning him deeper with every thrust.

And soon enough, you accommodated to fit him so perfectly, that he was able to slam in and out of you in quick, deep thrusts that fucked you into the mattress and had the whole bed frame slamming against the wall.

The room erupted into a frenzied symphony of Remus' grunts, your moans, Sirius dirty words, and the clapping of skin on skin. You could smell nothing but the hot, permeating scent of the three of you mingled together in a perfect embrace, and with every draw of it into your lungs as Remus bullied his cock in and out of you, and Sirius marked up your chest with his sinful mouth, you felt yourself inch closer and closer to what would be your second, overwhelming orgasm of the night.

And somehow, both boys knew it too, because as Sirius pulled up from sucking a nasty hickey into the side of your right tit, Remus leaned all the way over you and shackled his hand around your throat as he stuffed his cock so far inside of you, a splash of static spread across your vision.

Tightening his fingers around your delicate neck, and causing the oxygen in your brain to go stale, eyes fuzzing black at the edges, Remus growled into the shell over your ear a command that would remain seared into your memory for as long as you would live.

"Cum, love. Go ahead, let go and cum hard around my fucking cock, now."

And at that, you clamped down on him hard enough elicit his teeth in your neck, your legs shaking violently as your entire body became embroiled in the feeling of the most severe orgasm you had ever had.

Your scream was loud enough to warrant Sirius' hand covering your mouth, muffling it tightly as it became underscored by the sound of Remus' cavernous groan as he pressed in devastatingly deep, and came inside you in thick, ruthless, ropes.

He came so hard that even pressed as far inside of you as he was, drops of his cum leaked out from around the base of his cock and dripped down onto the mattress below you, coating the bed withe mixture of your wetness and his semen.

The room quieted exponentially in the wake of all three of you properly satisfying yourself once and for all, the only audible noise being the heavy breaths of three love struck, totally satiated souls that had been waiting for this moment for far too long.

In the afterglow of it all, you drifted in and out of consciousness.

You slipped away at the feeling of Remus' hard body blanketing yours and Sirius hands on your flesh, and came to moments later in bleary blinks as one boy (Remus, you thought) jostled you up his body and underneath the covers. Whilst the other, (probably Sirius) chanted a charm underneath his breath with the swish of a wand that had all three bodies, and the sheets bellow them cleaning up instantly.

The bodies below you and beside you were warm expanses of skin and muscle, meaning they must've shed their clothes at some point during the quick break in your consciousness.

Unable to speak at the sheer exhaustion and tranquility that clouded your mind and body, you simply nuzzled into the smooth chest below you as the other firm body pressed in behind you, throwing a lean arm over your form and cuddling into you protectively.

"You alright, love?" The voice belonging to the body below you murmured.

Remus, definitely Remus.

You sighed deeply as his hand stroked up and down your spine, lulling you further into sleep.

"I am now," The words were slurred, and produced with considerable effort on your part, "Now that it's'all been settled..."

A chuckle sounded to your right. Sirius, for sure.

"Us too, love. Though we can talk about the specifics when we wake up tomorrow."

You simply nodded slowly, feeling yourself drift beneath the vale of sleep.

"Okay," You yawned, eyes fluttering closed. But before you were able to finally sleep, free of any lingering anxieties or paranoid thoughts, you had to make sure they knew one last thing.

"But guys?" You began delicately.

"Yes, love?" Remus replied.

You huffed nervously, "You guys know this isn't just a fling for me this time, right?" You rubbed your cheek against Remus' pec.

"This is for real this time. This is forever."

Both boys only chuckled in tandem at your decisive statement, holding you tighter, cradling you deep between them in a cocoon of love and adoration.

"Oh, we know, lovebug." Sirius hummed, a smile in his voice.

"And besides, even if you changed your mind- you'd have two stubborn men at your heels ready to remind you exactly why our love is one to last."

And with the unshakeable promise in Remus' voice, you allowed yourself to finally let go, drifting into the beautiful, serene sensation of sheer devotion, parting from your mind with only one lingering thought before sleep over came you.

Give your heart and soul to me, And life will always be, La vie en rose...

---

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@cheyplayss-blog

The hands on your hips guided your movements, bringing your body to collide with his in a dance of uncoordinated limbs, his grip so deliciously tight it made you hum in pleasure.

The changing room was empty, players and students of all houses already scattered through the castle to celebrate after the last match of the season. A thin fog still lingered in the air from the showers running not even half an hour before, steam clinging to the walls in rivulets of water slowly rolling down the surface. 

The same tantalizing drops cascading down your boyfriend’s body, too. You wanted to capture every single one of them with your tongue, trace the hard planes of James' chest, savor the heat of his skin.

His lips chased yours eagerly, urgently, like he starved for them and the way they molded perfectly against his.

“You'll get all wet, baby” he breathed between hungry kisses and playful bites. A sort of warning he himself didn’t seem to care too much for. Not with the way he kept holding your body so close to his, so tight, that not even a breath of hair could come in between.

The beads of water still clinging to his torso soaked your shirt, making it stick uncomfortably to your burning skin.

But you guessed it was a deserved little punishment for not being able to wait for him to even dry himself after his shower before jumping his bones. 

Who could blame you ? James looked a little too good with only that towel around his hips.

Towel that, miraculously and unfortunately, was still holding strong.

Maybe it was for the best. You didn’t want things to end too soon. 

Not before everything actually started, at least.

“That’s hardly news” you whispered playfully, licking into his mouth, your tongues seeking each other’s.

Your hands reached for his still damp hair, carding through the chocolate locks fervently, tasting the sound of his low moans right on your lips.

The muscles of his arms flexed under your touch as the hold on your hips tightened imperceptibly.

“I meant your clothes” he purred with an amused chuckle, lips continuing their torturing journey on your skin, leaving a trail of heated, open-mouthed kisses down your sensitive neck, feeling your heartbeat against his tongue.

“Don’t care,” you exhaled with a smirk he couldn’t see but could definitely hear by the way he smiled on your skin “they’re coming off anyway” 

Or you sure hoped so. 

His hands leaving your lower back to travel up and unbutton your, now soaked and almost see through, shirt with skilled and impatient fingers definitely kept your hopes up.

“Will this be our new victory celebration ? Fucking in the showers ?” 

By the amused tone of his voice, he didn’t seem to mind one bit.

Gryffindor had won the infamous match James had lost nights of sleep for, thinking of strategies to defeat the, apparently unbeatable, Slytherin team and talking about a certain marvelous seeker non-stop.

The same seeker who seemed to be kind of out of it during the whole game, in your humble opinion. 

You were no Quidditch expert, but you were a Regulus one for sure.

You knew something was going on, still you couldn’t put your finger on it, really. 

Maybe he simply got a bit distracted by the sun getting in his eyes ?

Maybe it shined a little too brightly to be ignored ?

And maybe that sun had a name and a last name, too ? 

Who knew ?

Definitely not you. Right ?

Your mouth curved into a grin.

“Win again and you'll find out”

The digits masterfully working on the wet fabric stopped their ministrations, leaving your blouse half open.

His eyes trailed on the exposed skin of your cleavage, the lacy bra that hugged your curves peeking through the now open cloth.

The quiet ‘fuck’ groaned under his breath had no business turning you on the way it did. But how could it not when he looked at you like you were some sort of ethereal Goddess put on earth for him to worship ?

His mouth turned even more eager, hungrier. Fierce kisses decorated your skin, teasing bites complemented it with delicate shades of crimson soothed by the gentle caress of his tongue.

He traveled down, tracing your shoulder, your collarbone, your sternum, almost reaching the tender flesh of your breasts.

Almost.

Because the sound of a throat clearing echoed through the empty changing room like the rumble of thunder announcing a storm on a summer day.

The same storm that colored his eyes.

James nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice shattering the little bubble of intimacy you and him had gotten lost in, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights.

He slowly pulled away from your skin, glossy gaze focused on the source of that sound.

There, in the middle of the room, eyes settled on the mess of intertwined limbs you and your boyfriend were not even a moment ago, stood Regulus.

The corners of your mouth curled up the slightest bit.

“Ehm- I fear this is not the Slytherin changing room” James' words sounded uncertain, cautious. Almost afraid that the brooding angel that had appeared so suddenly would bite him if he said the wrong thing in the wrong way.

And he was absolutely right to be.

Regulus did bite. Metaphorically and physically speaking.

Regulus’ eyes trailed over your flushed cheeks, your neck scattered in hickeys, your soaked and half open blouse almost fully showcasing your chest and letting your bra peek through the fabric.

“I noticed,” he said, silver gaze shifting to roam over your boyfriend’s mouth-watering body, running all over James’ sun-kissed skin and the muscles flexing underneath it, the hard lines of his abs, the alluring way his v-line led down and down until it disappeared under that damn towel “These outrageous colors are hard to miss”

Unfortunately for him, the sharp sarcasm dripping from his tone did nothing to conceal the clear interest written in his eyes.

You had the feeling he wasn't talking about the colors at all.

And they surely didn’t seem so hideous if the way he subconsciously wet his lips at the sight in front of him was of any indication.

You wondered how much he saw, how long he had taken in the scene in front of him before deciding he had enough.

“What brings you here ?” James’ tone wasn't accusing, just curious. Careful. 

The way he gulped soundly at the view of Regulus’ tongue peeking through his parted lips didn’t go unnoticed.

“Except for the questionable decor, of course” you added, teasing. A daring glint shining in your eyes.

Regulus didn’t answer. Not even a word. 

He just kept observing, gaze shifting between you and James as the silver in his eyes melted, the blackness of his pupil almost erasing it completely.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as his eyes set on you at last.

“Our showers stopped working” he stated, looking at you attentively, calculating. Like, somehow, he knew.

You wouldn’t have been surprised if he did. 

It was Regulus Black you were talking about after all.

One of the brightest students in Hogwarts, star player of the Slytherin Quidditch team, the most sharp-minded person you had ever met.

And your ex-boyfriend who knew every corner of the maze your mind was.

No one fooled Regulus Black. Not even you.

“They just…broke ?” the Slytherin’s eyes peeled from your figure to focus on James and his slightly puzzled frown. Like he couldn’t really think it was possible.

“Oh, no. They gave me a warning before they did. Like every inanimate, non-incantated object would do” Regulus deadpanned, eyes narrowed and tone tinged with his trademark bite.

James, to his credit, didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed by it. If anything, he looked amused, every trace of confusion and tentativeness disappearing from his face to make space for an intrigued, mischievous smile. 

“Showers speak ?” he asked in mock bewilderment, “Merlin, I bet they talk real shit about me and my ear-splitting singing, then” his head tilted to the side in that cocky but infuriatingly charming manner of his, looking at Regulus with a spark of challenge.

You shook your head at your boyfriend’s words, eyes rolling in amusement as the corners of your mouth pulled into a grin.

James was playing with fire, and he knew that. 

He knew that perfectly well.

Regulus' gaze narrowed, piercing and intense.

“Are you ever serious ?” a sheer annoyance coated his tone.

James’ eyes lit up.

“No,” he smirked, troublemaker grin on full display “I’m always James”

You almost choked on the chuckle you had to suppress. Not at the joke per se, but at the shameless audacity with which he had made it. 

You knew your boyfriend was a little reckless sometimes, his lack of self-preservation wasn't well-known among his Gryffindor peers for nothing, but you had never seen him come so close to the flames, risking being burned to the bone.

The fire in question being none other than Regulus Black.

“You think you’re funny” he stated utterly unimpressed, a perfectly arched brow cocked up.

“Sometimes” your boyfriend smiled smugly.

A huff escaped the Slytherin’s mouth, head shaking from side to side in disbelief.

When he stopped it was to look directly at you.

“How do you put up with him ?” he asked, aloof and direct as always.

James didn’t seem fazed by the harsh straightforwardness of Regulus’ question, the self-satisfied smile on his lips only growing. 

He was used to the Slytherin being borderline mean to him, and he didn’t seem to mind it one bit. You thought he liked that, even.

He was into feisty people, it appeared.

A similar grin tugged at the corners of your lips.

That was your chance.

It was now or never.

“How about I show you ?”

Both their expressions froze for a second.

Two pairs of eyes set on you as the, almost imperceptible, sound of buttons being freed from their loops followed your words. Your hands reached for your shirt, finishing what James had started.

A shiver ran down your spine as the half-soaked fabric caressed your heated skin, sliding off of your shoulders until it met the floor with a soft rustle.

“If you want,”

You held their gazes, eyes shifting from, equally wide and dumbfounded, cold steel to rich hazel back and forth while your fingers trailed on the hem of your skirt. Your hands worked unhurriedly, rolling the zipper down, letting the fabric slide off your hips as you swayed them just enough to help the cloth glide down your thighs, until it fell on the dark hardwood, joining your already forgotten blouse. 

“If you let me”

The room was still filled with sheer steam, clinging to your almost fully exposed body and making your skin glisten under the warm light of the setting sun seeping through the high windows. However, that wasn’t the reason for the increasing heat spreading through every fiber of your being.

Their eyes trailed on your figure, on the way the lace of the very special set you had chosen to wear under your clothes hugged your curves just right, enhancing your silhouette and fitting you like a glove.

There was a, not so veiled, thrill in James’ stunned stare as he drank you in, his mouth agape like he had never seen you like that. Like you weren't the one chanting his name like a prayer almost every night.

Regulus’ gaze darkened with a scorching intensity, not a glimmer of gray in sight as he took you in completely, eyes traveling on that body he had one worshiped like it was a temple.

He observed you, analyzing your tone, your words, the way your eyes kept bouncing between him and James.

“That’s a dangerous game you’re playing” his voice came out low, hoarse.

One of your brows quirked up.

“What game ?” there was no teasing in your tone, no trace of amusement “I was merely extending an offer”

You weren’t blind, nor stupid. You had eyes and they worked well. Some might say a bit too well. 

You observed, you watched carefully, read the room with a quick glance. It was your thing, noticing things others didn’t.

In all honesty, your discovery had little to do with your observation skills.

It was the shivers along your spine, the hair at the base of your neck standing up, the way every single nerve of your body responded to that magnetic pull. Every time their gazes locked the earth shifted on its axes and gravity wasn’t the reason your feet were on the ground anymore. It was the weight of those eyes, the desire dripping from them. 

Desire for one another. 

Desire for you. 

Their eyes met, slowly, tentatively, like they had done so many times before, that same tsunami of emotions raging in them like a storm waiting to be freed.

The room charged with a buzzing tension, and you swore you could feel it. That spark igniting, those flames burning every doubt to ashes.

Their gazes returned to you, tension becoming electric.

For a moment, nothing happened. Not a sound, not a word.

Then-

The hide covering the soles of his shoes produced a soft, dull sound on the hardwood floor as Regulus suddenly took a step forward, thick leather gloves meeting the ground with a quiet thud.

Your eyes zeroed on that movement, a sudden rush of adrenaline running through your veins.

Another step, and his arm pads were tossed aside, not a single second look spared at them.

Your boyfriend’s gaze matched yours, following every single motion of Regulus’ body.

One more stride, and his shin pads joined the rest of the mess, completely forgotten.

Until he stood directly in front of you and James.

“Do it, then”

A beat of silence passed.

“Show me”

He started with the emerald cape hugging his shoulders, unlacing the thin leather strings, and letting it slip off smoothly until cascaded to the floor in a velvety whisper.

Slender fingers grabbed the hem of his jersey, lifting it up slowly, excruciatingly so, revealing inch after inch of alabaster skin.

Lean, defined muscles rippled underneath his flesh, flexing at every hint of movement, every shift of his body, creating an alluring path that led further and further down.

He unclasped his belt without hesitation, tossing it aside unceremoniously before he went to work on his pants, unbuttoning them with little effort, digits fiddling with the zipper before rolling it down.

In a matter of seconds, he got rid of his shoes, slithered the fabric off his toned legs exposing the milky skin of his thighs, and disregarded them on the floor.

His gaze never faltered. Not even one bit.

Your brain short-circuited at the sight presented in front of you, mouth dry and heart about to jump out of your chest.

“Fucking hell”

Those two strangled words coming out from James' mouth perfectly reflected every thought swirling through your head in that precise moment.

Fucking hell, indeed. 

Because Regulus was practically naked, with that half smirk curving his lips and a firestorm rampaging in his eyes.

You turned to your boyfriend, and your knees almost gave out. 

The eagerness in his eyes, the hunger, the need simmering in them as he drank in the image of you and Regulus, together and bare, before him almost knocked the breath off your lungs.

You looked at him, holding his burning gaze, waiting. A clear question etched in your eyes.

And you ? Would you let me ?

The answer seemed obvious seeing the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of either you or Regulus. 

It was written all over him, the way he craved you, the way he craved both of you.

James wore his heart on his sleeve, it wasn’t hard to figure out what kind of thoughts were flooding his mind.

His response should’ve been obvious to you, crystal clear.

“Isn’t he beautiful ?”

“Y/n…”

“Come on, It's just an innocent question”

“Is it ?” 

"Absolutely”

“Liar”

“Answer me, Jamie. Isn't Regulus gorgeous ?”

“Fuck, fuck- yes. Yes, he is. He is- holy shit. And you are, too. You are. You both are. And I really need you right now or I'll literally combust on the spot”

He had told you not even a week before between low moans, breathy whimpers and your body moving on top of him making him lose every ounce of control. 

But you needed him to say it again. Something, anything, to make sure that conversation wasn’t just another product of your fantasies.

Except that James’ mouth didn’t move. Not until it was on you.

That mere, insignificant step between your bodies turned into dust the moment your lips collided.

It was urgent, desperate, the way he sucked on your lips, on your tongue, his hands gripping your hips so deliciously tight you knew they would leave a mark imprinted on your skin.

And you couldn’t wait for it. You wanted it. 

You wanted more. 

You wanted everything.

“I’m at your mercy” he uttered helplessly, yielding “Whatever you want, however you want it. It’s yours”

“James-”

“It’s yours”

It took you a second to understand, to fully grasp the meaning of his words, but once you did-

Oh, the thrill it sent down your spine.

Yours.

As is in you and Regulus.

Whatever you and Regulus wanted. However you and Regulus wanted it.

The blood running through your veins turned into lava, liquid heat simmering beneath your flesh.

“You mean that ?” Regulus’ voice came out low and more wavering than you had ever heard it, James’ words affecting him just as much as they had affected you. You could hear the control slipping away from him, vanishing little by little like the space between your bodies.

He was close.

They were close.

You were all a mere whisper apart from each other and it was intoxicating how you could feel the heat radiating from their skin, how their hands itched to touch, to feel, how the color in their eyes vanished with every second that passed, swallowed by that need that was raging inside each one of you. 

James’ eyes shifted to your left, settling on Regulus, looking at him breathlessly, speechless, admiring the work of art before him.

Messy curls, glossy eyes, red lips, smooth skin. 

He was a vision.

“Potter” it was bewitching the way that single word rolled off Regulus’ tongue, so firm and yet so soft, as he took a small step forward, lowering his voice to a whisper “I asked if you mean that”

And your boyfriend, who looked like he was about to get on his knees and worship the ground you and Regulus walked on, just looked at him with earnest, lidded eyes.

“I do” he choked out breathlessly “I really fucking do”

Then it happened.

The moment Regulus’ lips met James,’ everything stopped.

For three seconds. 

Three seconds in which the concept of time and space shattered to pieces.

Three seconds that lasted a blink of an eye and a century altogether.

Three seconds for James’ brain to fully understand what was happening, to realize that it was actually happening.

Three seconds and then the world set on fire.

James dived in the kiss like a man starved and Earth started spinning again, faster than it ever did before.

Every cell, every nerve and muscle, every single inch of your being came to life at the image unfolding in front of you.

James latched onto Regulus’ mouth like it was his first meal after weeks of starvation. Like he had been dying to feel that taste on his tongue and was slowly getting consumed by how addictive it was.

Regulus’ hand slipped to the back of James’ neck, drawing him even closer, lips moving on his just as relentlessly, just as famished, pure, and unfiltered need etched in the way he chased after the Gryffindor like he was the oxygen missing in his lungs.

Their tongues brushed, teasing and greedy, mouths swallowing every sound, every moan.

But, as Regulus grazed James’ bottom lip lewdly, feeling the plump and swollen flesh between his teeth while your boyfriend became putty in his hands, you couldn’t help but think that the one who lacked air to breathe was you.

You felt dizzy, high like you were on the most powerful of drugs. 

And, maybe, you even were. Because there was no other explanation for the sudden euphoria taking over your body like a tidal wave, engulfing you in a sea of need, and taking you deeper and deeper until you couldn’t breathe anymore.

You were drowning, and you couldn’t have cared less. The current taking you away was too strong, too compelling for you to resist it.

So, you didn’t.

You had set that storm in motion, after all.

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around you, bringing you back to reality and taking over every other thought running through your brain. 

A shiver ran down your spine and spread all over your body at the gentle yet urgent pressure of a strong hand on your lower back, urging you forward.

The two bodies in front of you disentangled from their embrace of limbs and tongues but never disconnected.

James’ hand was still on Regulus’ hip, sun-kissed fingers against pearly skin. His other arm was on your back, guiding you forward until you were surrounded by heat and wandering hands. Right in between them.

“Enjoying the show ?” Regulus’ breath fanned over the shell of your ear, hot and uneven, smirk concealed from your eyes but unmistakably there. His chest pressed against your back, the lean outline of his abs kissing your skin, molding to your silhouette.

And you would’ve loved to answer, let him know everything that was going through your mind in that precise moment, had it not been for another pair of sinful lips preventing you from doing exactly that.

James' mouth was hungry, relentless as it chased yours, kissing you so intensely you felt his need to your core.

Your bodies were glued, chest to chest, the material of your bra thin enough to make you feel his scorching skin right through it.

Behind you, Regulus’ mouth hovered over your neck, so dangerously close to that sweet spot right below your ear that you were struggling to keep the pathetic moan threatening to leave your throat to yourself.

His lips finally brushed your skin, teeth biting gently, teasing, soothing the delicious sting with his tongue only to start all over again. 

All the fight left your body at once.

Your mouth parted, a cry of pleasure rolling out.

And James, who you felt smirk like he had hit the jackpot himself, took full advantage of that. His tongue dipped between your lips, licking and savoring every inch of your mouth as if he didn't already know it by heart, swallowing every little delighted sound escaping your throat and going even deeper.

You were intoxicated, lost in the feeling of those two bodies that had hunted your fantasies now flushed against yours in flesh, and blood.

“It’s rude not to answer, love” your boyfriend’s voice was breathless, hoarse as he pulled away just long enough to let you breathe. That same smirk plastered onto his kiss-bruised lips.

An airless scoff left your lungs at the audacity of that statement.

“Says the one shutting me up” your retort was weak, winded, yet laced with sheer snark.

The playful half-smile he gave you in return made your knees weak. 

Or, maybe, it was Regulus and his mouth still busy worshiping your neck.

Or the fact that you felt their hands all over your body. Your arms, your waist, hips, thighs. Everyfuckingwhere.

A familiar warmth pooled at the pit of your stomach, a gentle heat that begged to be fueled.

You couldn’t wait anymore.

“James” you exhaled, trying to ground yourself, to not lose focus.

“Yes, love ?” his lips had slid to the other side of your neck, mirroring Regulus in his mission to make you fall apart.

But you had something else in mind.

“The, fuck-” you gasped, Regulus’ hand wandering dangerously close to where you ached the most “-the bench”

You didn’t have to repeat it twice. 

Your boyfriend’s mouth traveled back up swiftly, leaving small, feather-light kisses along your skin until he reached your lips, tasting them briefly once again.

There was no trace of questioning in his eyes, not even a speck of uncertainty. 

His words echoed through your head like a mantra as his body untangled from yours, albeit a bit reluctantly if the lingering touch of his hands on your hips was of any indication, to reach the wooden bench a few steps behind you.

'Whatever you want, however you want it. It’s yours'.

He had said it, and he had meant it. No questions asked.

If Regulus had said something instead, you had no doubt he would have complied just as easily.

Which brought you back to said boy and his unholy mouth teasing that sweet spot on your neck.

You turned around in his embrace, facing him, his arms still circling your figure, caressing your heated skin before they ultimately settled on your hips.

After so much time, you were standing in front of him once again, face to face and barely clothed, like you had done so many times before.

Before James. Before all of that.

It took him less than a second to capture your mouth with his.

The groan echoing in the room went directly to your core.

You weren’t even sure where it had come from.

Was it Regulus ? 

Was it James ? 

It could’ve very well been you, for all you knew.

It didn’t matter.

Not when Regulus’ tongue slipped past your lips, licking into your mouth like not even a day had passed from the last time.

“I missed you” his breath mingled with yours, hot and uneven, as he spoke those words right on you.

A faint, mischievous smirk curved your mouth.

“Yet, you jumped my boyfriend’s bones first chance you got instead” you bit his bottom lip playfully, teasing. Just like the hint in your voice.

Regulus’ grip on your waist tightened imperceptibly, bringing your body fully on his, letting his hands wander.

They slid beneath the hem of your panties, his palms gently smoothing over the supple flesh of your ass, pulling you forward.

“I have your taste branded on my tongue, Y/n” he breathed, looking you in the eyes with a heat that could’ve turned the Forbidden Forest to ashes in seconds “Can you blame me for wanting to try this new one I’ve been craving first ?”

Could you ?

It was James Potter you were talking about, after all. Gryffindor's Golden Boy, the sweetheart, the boy with a smile more blinding than the sun and the body of a God.

You couldn't have blamed Regulus even if you had been actually serious about your little provocation.

Who better than you could’ve understood him ?

Another low grunt reached your ears. And, this time, you were sure it couldn't have come from either you or Regulus.

No, that was James.

James who sat on the bench at the center of the changing room, just a few feet away from you. 

James, whose legs were spread, defined muscles flexing under smooth skin. 

James, whose towel was long forgotten on the floor. 

James who was lazily stroking himself at the sight of you and Regulus together.

Head thrown back enough to expose the blooming red marks on his neck, lustful lidded eyes looking at you through thick lashes, muscles shifting hypnotizingly at every lazy glide of his hand on his half-hard cock.

That view almost brought you to your knees. Literally.

But if the loud gulp bobbing Regulus’ Adam’s apple up and down was of any indication, you weren’t the only one to have such thoughts.

His eyes trailed over your boyfriend’s each and every move. Greedy, hungry.

A dark chuckle left his throat.

“I think I understand you now” his warm breath fanned over the shell of your ear, his lips taunting the skin with every word whispered.

Goosebumps rose all over your body.

“And what is that you understand exactly, mmh ?” your tone was as teasing as his mouth on you as you found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of you.

James groaned again, guttural, and low as the hand bringing him pleasure sped up just enough to grant him some sweet relief.

“As if you don’t already know” Regulus’ voice was breathy, heavy, the light smirk around his words going straight between your thighs to add fuel to the already raging fire simmering in your veins, his gaze mirroring yours. His words were followed by skillful fingers, traveling up your torso, dancing on your skin, reaching the thin, lacy straps of your bra, and sliding them off your shoulders reverentially, placing a kiss right on that now naked spot.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t” you taunted, your head turning to catch the ravenous glint in those mesmerizing pools of silver.

“Maybe-” your tongue darted out, licking over his lips tantalizingly “-I just want to hear you say it”

The corner of his mouth tilted upward slightly, eyes burning into yours.

“You play dirty, darling” he whispered, his left hand tracing your back, sending shivers down your spine as his practiced fingers unhooked the clasps of your bra in a swift, precise move.

You heard James’ moan, fighting a lost battle as he tried to suppress a curse under his breath.

The humid air hit your bare chest, and you bit your lips to not let the most pathetic whine out.

“I told you, this is not a game” you managed to utter, head falling back, resting on Regulus’ shoulder but inclined enough to still witness James trying not to slowly lose every ounce of control, as he explored your almost naked body like he was studying a map, imprinting it in his brain like he hadn’t already uncovered every inch of it with his hands. Or his tongue.

“What do you want me to say, then ? That he is charming ?” he whispered right on your neck, his body now flushed against yours once again-

“That he is funny ?”

His mouth rested on your pulse point, feeling the blood pumping through your veins like a tsunami, tasting the beat of your heart on his tongue, his teeth grazing your skin sensually-

“That he is the hottest guy I've ever laid eyes on ?”

His lean yet strong muscles surrounded you, kissing your back, circling your silhouette in the filthiest of embraces, bringing you impossibly closer, hands traveling down and down-

“That him sitting there, stroking his cock like that, gets me like this ?”

His erection pressed against the plump flesh of your ass, hard as a rock, letting you feel all of him through the thin fabric of his underwear as his hand slid beneath the hem of your panties-

“That I want to taste him while I worship your sweet cunt, his cum dripping from you as you beg for more ? As you beg for both of us ?”

His slender fingers glided over the tender skin of your folds, collecting your arousal, spreading it all over you, teasing you as he caressed that sweet spot that had you see stars. 

Your head was in the clouds, hazy. You felt drunk, like you had gobbled down an entire liquor store all on your own. Regulus’ words poured gasoline on the already tempestuous fire taking over your body.

Yet, you couldn't help but smile like you had just won the highest prize in that unfair lottery called ‘life’, ecstasy soaking through every nerve, every cell of your body.

Because, right in that moment, it felt like you really fucking did.

And it was better than anything your dirty little brain could’ve ever come up with.

A breathless chuckle escaped your lips, a dark, taunting smile settling on them as your eyes turned as sharp as a cat’s, as inviting as the most forbidden of desires.

“If you wanted a taste, Reggie, you could’ve just said so”

Peeling yourself from his frame, your feet moved.

Regulus followed right behind, his hands unable to leave the soft curve of your waist as you walked that mere meter that separated you from James and his filthy little noises.

A few steps and you were in front of him, a half-smirk tugging at your lips.

“Impatient as always” you teased him, words as smooth as silk albeit the clear breathlessness in your voice “Couldn’t even wait, mmh ?”

James’ head tilted up, looking at you through that lascivious veil glazing his gaze as his mouth brushed the soft flesh of your stomach.

Your hands found place in his hair almost automatically, bringing him unconsciously closer.

“You think I would’ve managed to ?” he asked raggedly, leaving a kiss right above your navel, beginning the sweetest of journeys “With you two in front of me like that ?” he traveled down, leaving a trail of open-mouthed pecks on your heated skin.

He stopped at the hem of your panties, taking the flimsy fabric between his teeth before letting it go with a gentle ‘snap’ on your skin, the sting barely there but still able to elicit a hiss through your teeth.

His mouth dropped even lower, hovering on your aching core.

“You have no idea of the power you have on me, then” the soft kiss he left on your clothed clit snatched a whimper out of you.

James’ dark gaze fell on the boy by your side, a hand on his hip guiding him forward gently.

James’ lips worshiped Regulus’ body with the same reverence they had venerated yours, running over his lean abdomen, tongue tracing every line of his abs, biting his hipbone temptingly. 

“You’re ah-” a throaty groan cut off the Slytherin’s words “-a fucking tease, Potter”

Your boyfriend grinned against smooth, untainted skin, dropping lower and lower until the only thing remaining between his plump lips and Regulus’ clothed, rock-hard erection was less than a breath of air.

“Oh ? Am I ?”

Regulus didn’t answer.

Not because he didn’t want to --the way his lips parted like he was fully ready to bite back being enough evidence of that– but because he couldn’t.

Not with James’ tongue peeking out, licking a wet stripe along his underwear, tracing the outline of his shaft like he wanted to memorize every inch of it by heart, engrave it in his mind forever.

Regulus gasped, followed by a strangled moan.

James’ fingers hooked onto the elastic of his underwear and every word died in his throat. 

The sound of fabric hitting the floor shouldn’t have made you feel that kind of adrenaline, but it did, nonetheless. Your heartbeat was so fast, hammering so strong that you could feel it everywhere.

Your throat, your ears, between your thighs; your whole body was trembling with desire.

Your head was spinning, blood flowing in your veins so hot it burned, legs clenching together unconsciously, seeking even the faintest of reliefs at the sight gracing your eyes. A sight which your fantasies couldn’t have even come close to.

Because Regulus was naked, completely bare before you and James, his delicately sculpted body on full display. And he was painfully hard.

James swallowed, eyes blown wide and trailing on the expanse of Regulus’ alabaster skin, admiring him like he was a piece of art.

He was entranced, mesmerized, so lost into that sight that his words failed him.

He glanced at you, that same enchanted expression etched onto his features.

An incredulous half-chuckle escaped his lips, lifting the corner of his mouth in a disbelieved smile.

“Holy shit-”

It came out as nothing more than a whisper, his gaze fixated on the silhouettes in front of him like he wanted to take in every inch of skin and brand it in his brain for the rest of his life. 

“Everything alright ?”

Your voice echoed through the room, the amused spark around your words surely not going unnoticed.

“Absolutely nothing could be wrong right now, trust me” your boyfriend said with a sincere smile and that speck of euphoria still making his eyes shine under the warm light as they glanced back and forth between you and Regulus “Just trying to figure out if this is a dream, a very realistic hallucination from the deepest part of my mind or I’m truly awake. Which I’m really praying I am”

You couldn’t help but grin at his statement. You felt the exact same way.

“You fantasize about this often, Potter ?” came Regulus' voice, laced with an amusement that caressed your skin with its velvety timbre.

One of his hands rose to comb through James’ unruly locks.

Visible goosebumps raised on James’ sun-kissed skin, Regulus’ sultry voice visibly affecting him as much as it affected you.

The ecstatic curve on your boyfriend’s face didn’t falter for a second. The spark in his eyes lit up even more, burning brighter than the sun and, simultaneously, darkening his gaze like black clouds concealed the sky before the most destructive of storms.

What a remarkable sight. 

All that hunger, all that need, enclosed in a pair of mesmerizing hazel eyes. 

“I think you already know the answer to that” 

Regulus’ eyebrow arched slightly in surprise, his gaze narrowing, studying the boy in front of him, analyzing the provocative hint in his deep voice, the purposefully challenging meaning he had given to his words.

“Do you ?” you asked, gaze focusing on molten silver and black hair.

Two pairs of eyes settled on you, following your every movement, every slight shift of muscles beneath silken skin as you slowly slid your panties down, letting them glide off your legs, until they dropped on the floor, joining the rest of the clothes scattered all over the hardwood surface.

“You do. Don’t you, Regulus ?”

You knew he did. You knew him. 

All the things he tried to conceal from others, all the things he didn’t say with his mouth he spoke them through those damn eyes. And, sometimes, they were louder than words could ever be.

“Fuck-” 

That sole, breathy word coming out of their mouth, spoken in unison, would’ve almost made you crack a smile had it been any other day, any other time.

But at that moment, with their eyes dripping with pure need, showcasing every shade of desire they felt as they took in every single inch of your figure, of the body they had made their mission to adore and cherish and worship, nothing felt amusing.

“Jamie” you called, gaze glued to those pools of silver.

Pure electricity filled the room, charging the atmosphere with a tension so high you felt it sizzle in the air.

A single hum of acknowledgement let you know that he had heard you.

“Come here. Let Regulus have a seat”

He complied without hesitation, leaving the bench and taking his place next to you, hands almost automatically finding home on your waist.

Regulus’ eyes never left your figure, heavy with a plethora of feelings you had never quite seen on his face, as he too, followed your implicit request.

He sat in front of you in all its glory, legs spread, and muscles taut.

Your hand went to gently rest under his chin, guiding his head up until his lidded eyes met yours, your thumb caressing the plump flesh of his kissed-bruised lips.

“Tell me” your voice sounded as sweet as honey to your own ears “What are your fantasies Regulus ?”

The haziness in his eyes almost knocked the air out of your lungs, his lips puckering the faintest bit to leave the gentlest, most enticing feathery kiss on the finger still lingering on the plump, swollen flesh of his lip before curling up in a sweet yet sultry smile.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest at the near reverent gesture, at the way his glossy gaze dripped with eagerness. 

You were dangerously close to losing yourself in those pits of need, had it not been for the loud gulp coming from right next to you. 

You turned your head to meet James’ gaze.

Except that you weren’t able to.

You couldn’t.

Because it was stuck on Regulus’ mouth and the way it molded against your digit. It zeroed on that simple motion, taking it in like it was the most enthralling sight in the entire world. 

A small, knowing grin made its way on your face as the realization hit you.

A discovery that didn’t get lost on Regulus either if the sensation of his lips widening in a mischievous grin right against the soft pad of your thumb was anything to go by. 

Your eyes were fixated on James, so focused on the hypnotized look on his face as his never left Regulus’ lips, on the way his pupils dilated so much the color vanished completely, on the uneven rise and fall of his chest, that you missed the Slytherin’s lips parting, his tongue peeking out, teasing the pad of your finger, biting it playfully before taking it in his mouth, engulfing it in its heat.

Your head turned to him so fast, your neck almost snapped.

You found him grinning. 

Regulus was grinning.

Not that you could make it out clearly with the way his lips wrapped around your thumb like he was sucking on the tastiest goddamn lollipop ever. His eyes, however --they showed it, they screamed it. How proud, how pleased he was with himself to have not only you, but your boyfriend too, wrapped around his finger with just that dirty little move.

Words failed you.

The air got stuck in your throat.

He looked unreal.

“How about I show you” he said, freeing your digit from the warm embrace of his mouth, his voice so hoarse and compelling it went straight between your legs.

Red-hot heat simmered in his glazed eyes, more scorching than hell itself.

You didn’t have time to even register Regulus’ words fully, your mind too lost, too clouded by the unholy image in front of you to focus on the way his hands reached for your legs, hooking behind your knees, manhandling you like you were deadweight. As he pleased.

Until you were almost sat, nearly straddling him, his length sliding over your naked, drenched heat.

The moan that left you felt downright pathetic to your own ears, but not to the two boys next to you apparently. Not with the way James’ hardness twitched in interest as a strangled groan reverberated in his throat. Not with the way Regulus’ grip reflexively tightened around you, inching you closer, his leaking head pressing on your clit.

The delicious friction made you cry in ecstasy, jolts of pleasure traveling through your whole body.

A euphoric smirk grew on your lips.

“Is this the shape your dreams take, Reggie ?” you whispered, so close to him your warm, ragged breath fanned on his skin “Me riding your cock ? Having my boyfriend watch as you take me apart ? Wishing it was his cock in your mouth ?”

The sound of a choked-out hiss filled the room. 

And it didn’t come from the boy beneath you.

The grin on Regulus’ face turned dangerous, dark.

“Sit on it, and you’ll find out”

The hint of challenge coating his tone sent pure adrenaline running through your veins.

You couldn’t help the airless chuckle that left your mouth.

If James was a tease, Regulus was a full-on menace.

But luckily, he was a menace you knew how to handle perfectly well.

“Want to fill me up so bad, mmh ?” you murmured, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and pulling lightly, just enough for it to sting.

Licking at the seam of his lips, you rested your arm around his neck, granting you enough of a balance. Meanwhile, your other hand started wandering. Tracing his jaw, his shoulders, the lean yet sculpted planes of his chest, reaching further and further down.

Until it wrapped around him, stiff and hot against your palm, tongue rolling against his in time with your practiced strokes.

The groan that came from his throat felt like enough of an answer.

So, you lowered your body slowly, steadily, angling his tip with your entrance before sinking onto his length like you had been born to.

A fairly easy task, seeing that you were wetter than you had ever been in your entire life.

Every inch of him breaching your velvety walls, every little vein scattered on the hard, smooth surface of his shaft; you felt it.

You felt it all.

Your hips collided, your thighs wrapping around him as he sheathed himself inside of you fully, burying himself so deep his head kissed your cervix, filling you to the brim.

All the oxygen got knocked out of your lungs, the stretch so good your senses go into hyperdrive.

“Shit- Y/n-” a moan reverberated in his chest as your walls clenched, contracting around him as you got used to the, once, familiar and, more than welcome, intrusion.

There was a voice in your head, telling you to move your hips, ride him until you were nothing but a babbling mess on top of him, tears streaming down your face from pure delight.

But you didn’t. You didn’t give in to that extremely tempting thought, no.

You just sat there, impaling yourself on your ex-boyfriend’s dick, letting his shape mold your insides.

“Fuck- You’re tight” Regulus rasped, the twitch of him inside of you nearly making you lose it.

But, once again, you didn’t seem to be alone in that sentiment.

Breathy, barely audible whimpers joined the cacophony of delighted sounds tumbling out of your and Regulus’ mouth, and your eyes fell on James.

On the way his gaze followed the arch of your back, the curve of your breasts, the blissful expression on your face as you took Regulus’ dick like you were made for it.

An elated smile made its way on your face, breaking through the fog of lust and need clouding your brain.

Oh, he liked it.

He seemed transfixed, completely enraptured by that sight, his fingers traveling along his tanned skin. A path that led exactly to where he was aching the most.

That was, until Regulus stopped him.

The hand not busy anchoring you to him searched for James,’ gently but firmly halting his movements right before he could relieve the visibly aching hardness between his legs.

He turned his head slightly, enough to look at the boy to his side straight in the eyes, his gaze never faltering, not even for a second, as the corners of his mouth tilted up in the lewdest, dirtiest smile.

“Don’t-” he panted, adding his alluring, strained voice to the already filthy melody hanging in the air like, spreading his hand on your boyfriend’s hip, and pulling him forward gently “-I want to feel you down my throat while I fuck her”

Bloody fucking hell, you were sure you had reached heaven.

“Jesus-” James hissed through gritted teeth, his shaft twitching in interest, reacting to Regulus’ salacious words “-got quite a mouth there, huh ?”

Regulus looked at the boy in front of him straight in the eyes, his gaze never faltering, not even for a second as the corners of his mouth tilted up in the lewdest, dirtiest little smile.

“Is that so ?” his tongue darted out slowly, tantalizingly as it gave James’ sensitive tip the tiniest of licks. The low, strangled sound that came out of your boyfriend’s mouth felt illegal to even hear “Let’s make good use of it, then”

A rush of adrenaline ran through your veins, setting every cell of your body ablaze, almost driving you to move your hips, relieving some of that need pooling at the pit of your stomach.

You watched as Regulus’ fingers leisurely wrapped around James’ shaft, feeling his weight in his hand, giving him a couple of experimental strokes.

Meanwhile, his mouth kept exploring. Licking, kissing, and teasing along James’ length, following the path of his touch. 

Until he reached his head.

And you couldn’t help but gawk, entranced and lustful, as Regulus’ plump lips sealed around it, enveloping it salaciously into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing slightly as he gave it the gentlest of sucks.

“God-” James visibly shivered, goosebumps covering his skin as the other kept working him up slowly, swirling around his tip, collecting his arousal on his tongue before pulling away with an obscenely wet ‘pop.’

You hadn’t even begun to process what you had just witnessed when Regulus, eyes glossy and lips shiny in what surely was a mix of his own saliva and James’ pre-cum, dived in and kissed you like it was his last day on earth.

It was brutal, uncoordinated, and the hottest thing you had ever experienced. All lips, and teeth, and burning hunger. And, of course, James.

Because you could taste him. Right on Regulus’ tongue.

You moved before you could even formulate a coherent thought.

A symphony of delighted sounds bounced on the walls of that room you felt like you weren’t in anymore.

You were high. Higher than ever before as your hips started gaining a life of their own, swaying back and forth slowly, savoring the sublime friction of Regulus against your tender walls as he slid in and out, inch after delicious inch.

“Think you can help me a little, chérie ?” he panted on your lips; voice shattered glass.

And you understood. 

Even if you knew it wasn’t Regulus’ first time getting acquainted with a male anatomy that wasn’t his own, and, as eager as he seemed at the idea of deepthroating James until he choked on him, it was obvious he wasn’t quite sure on how to approach said scenario.

James was, for lack of better terms, fucking big.

It had taken you a bit of…practice too before you could take him all the way in and make it a pleasurable experience for both of you.

“Regulus-” your boyfriend started, voice disheveled, winded, yet coated with a gentle concern. A hidden hesitation.

“As I said-” Regulus promptly interrupted him, firm and unwavering –or as steady as he could manage with you on top of him– as his hand rested on James’ waist, lips ghosting over the crease of his hip “-I want to feel you down my throat. All of you. I want it”

A jolt of electricity lit up every nerve of your body.

Before you could even react to the absolutely ungodly words he had just spoken, Regulus dived in again, his mouth wrapping around James like he was ready to devour him whole.

Which, to his credit, he did try. And, unfortunately, failed if the gagging sound that ripped out of his throat was of any indication.

“Jesus Christ-” James’ hand flew to Regulus’ black locks, muscles tight and tense as a string of curses left his lips, the sudden contraction around him no doubt almost sending him over the edge in a matter of seconds “-trying to kill me ?”

A small, endeared smile flickered on your face as you took in Regulus’ mildly frustrated look, eyes watery from a kind of exertion he wasn’t used to but still burning with a blinding eagerness.

Bloody hell, you wanted to eat him up. 

“Easy there, pretty boy” you cooed, the shadow of a chuckle in your voice as your lips ghosted over the shell of his ear, hot and teasing.

As enthusiastic and determined as he seemed to be about having James so deep inside of him it hit the back of his throat, and as much as that excitement made your heart nearly jump out of your chest, he needed a little guidance.

The fact that you knew exactly how to make James crumble bit by bit was merely just a bonus.

“Start slow,” you coaxed, voice reaching him in a soft whisper “just like you did earlier”

Regulus followed suit, zero hesitation in his movements as he slowly lowered his head. The tip of James' cock traced the seam of his mouth, a stray drop of arousal making his lips shine beautifully under the lights before his tongue unconsciously darted out to wet them, brushing your boyfriend’s head as if by accident.

James’ nostrils flared, a sharp inhale disrupting his already uneven breathing.

Then, Regulus’ plump lips parted, and every fight left the Gryffindor at once, his eyes zeroing on that unholy mouth as it wrapped around him, surrounding him in its heat.

”Yes, just like that” you encouraged, your own voice breathless, broken by the image your eyes were being graced with. 

An image you wouldn't have easily forgotten. It would’ve hunted your dreams forever. And, goodness, if you weren’t more than just fine with it.

So fine, in fact, that your body decided it couldn’t stay still no longer in front of such a glorious sight.

You felt dizzy, intoxicated by the feeling of Regulus inside of you, by the look of raw pleasure on James’ beautiful features, by the nearly surreal situation you were in.

Your hips started swaying before you could even think. Gently, excruciatingly slow. A rhythm so tortuous anybody else would’ve thought it a punishment.

But you knew Regulus, the same way you knew James. Meaning, you knew exactly how to ruin him too.

The hold Regulus’ arm had on your waist tightened, pulling you closer to him, making your back arch and your hips rock forward by reflex.

Your broken whines filled the air with their melodic tune, mixing with deep grunts and strangled moans, as Regulus kept his descent on James surprisingly steady.

Such a stark contrast with the way his hips snapped up, meeting yours in their desperate dance of filth and lust.

“Deeper” you mewled, your brain fogged up. 

And he complied. He complied near damn perfectly, hips thrusting up and head sinking down in unison.

Just like the cries of pleasure pouring out of your and James’ mouth. A perfect symphony.

“Fuck- baby”

Who had cried that out, you weren’t even sure.

Had you been in your right mind you would’ve definitely recognized the shattered voice that uttered those words like a plea was too low, too husky to be yours. 

But you were so lost, so slowly losing your grasp on reality as a wave of pleasure overtook you, that it didn’t matter. 

Not that it would’ve mattered, anyway.

Your eyes almost rolled back in ecstasy as Regulus lodged himself so impossibly deep inside of you he took your breath away, your insides melting.

His mouth chased James’ length eagerly, welcoming it further, deeper. Until he couldn’t anymore, the sound of his throat contracting and refusing to let any more of the Gryffindor in filling the room.

“Shit- Slowly. Slow down. Breathe” 

Among the haziness taking over your brain, James’ strained, nearly shattered voice arrived at your ears crystal clear, making that last remaining thread of your sanity snap.

You couldn’t see, couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t Regulus’ cock pulsing and pistoning inside of you, your hips rolling and grinding, taking and taking until all you could think about was the chant of his name. An unholy prayer.

“Relax, baby. Hollow your cheeks for me” James’ gentle voice coaxed.

You had to use all your strength, every drop of willpower to get your brain to regain a little clarity, enough to witness the magnificent sight right before you.

And, bloody hell, if it was worth it.

James’ hand was resting on Regulus’ head, swiping through his curls soothingly, guiding him as his head bobbed up and down in an intoxicating rhythm, mouth stretched around him and nose brushing at the base as he took him all the way in. 

Regulus looked absolutely wrecked. Eyes glossy, hazy, a sheer veil of tears that refused to spill coated his scalding gaze while it locked with the hazel flames burning in James,’ following his every word.

“Fuck yeah- Just like that” your boyfriend moaned; head thrown back in complete rapture. So lost in pleasure that he didn’t quite register it when his hips snapped forward in a tentative, uncoordinated thrust.

You watched as a flash of sheer worry traveled through his eyes. The slightest hint of panic.

He stilled immediately, breath hitching, swallowing hard as his mouth parted.

Whatever he meant to say, though, would’ve remained a mystery.

Regulus’ hand flew to James’ hips, shutting him up promptly, his grip tight enough to leave indents under his touch, molding the sun-kissed skin with his imprints.

An obscenely wet sound filled the air as he pulled away from James, releasing him from the wet heat of his mouth.

Your stomach flipped on itself, your walls clenching around him as a jolt of electricity running through your whole body prompted you to rock forward in a move as involuntary as it was needed.

Because, despite the utter dishevelment on Regulus’ face, his eyes held a look that you would have recognized blindly. 

That hunger. That greed. 

“Come on, Potter-” he croaked, voice shattered into millions of tiny little pieces, a taunting smirk on those red, glistening lips “-fuck this mouth like you mean it”

He wanted more.

What a blessing, then, that James lived to give.

So that's exactly what he did.

He gave and gave and gave, thrusting into Regulus’ mouth like a madman chasing his release, feeding him his cock like he had not just asked, but demanded.

The relentless rhythm of James' hips almost sent Regulus stumbling back before the hand not busy guiding the devilish dance of your hips anchored itself on your boyfriend’s strong thigh. 

Lewd, downright pornographic sounds reached your ears as your hips sped up their dance of pleasure, rocking back and forth, using the little leverage you had on Regulus’ thighs and shoulders to ride him, bouncing up and down his cock again and again.

Sharp thrusts pushed James deeper and deeper down the younger’s throat, and he took everything the Gryffindor gave him like he was made for it. Like he craved it. 

A needy whine rumbled in Regulus’ throat, and James' knees damn nearly gave out from the undoubtedly exquisite vibration around his sensitive dick, prompting his movements to turn erratic.

And you could imagine it. No, scratch that. You could fucking hear it.

The wet, obscene sounds of James fucking into Regulus’ mouth like a man possessed, each thrust forcing out choked moans that could've put a pornstar to shame. You could hear how he bottomed out, burying himself to the hilt, stretching Regulus’ throat until there was nowhere left to go.

But fuck, you wanted to feel it.

Your hand found its way to Regulus’ throat, delicate fingers wrapping around his neck adorning it with the prettiest of collars. A slow, gentle squeeze sent a shudder through him, his pulse hammering beneath your palm, muscles flexing as he swallowed around James’ cock. Tight, desperate, taking him in as if he could never get enough. 

You pressed just a little harder, feeling every inch of your boyfriend’s thick length through the heat of Regulus’ throat, the way he clenched and stretched to accommodate him, savoring the weight, the taste, the sheer possession of it.

The sensation nearly undid you. Regulus’ flushed skin burned against your palm, your own hips falling into rhythm with James’ brutal pace, each thrust sending another wave of white-hot arousal through you.

You were on the edge, ready to freefall in that pit of bliss, to bring Regulus with you.

He was close. You could feel it. 

The way he trembled beneath you, the way the grip on your waist turned so tight you were flushed against him, your clit brushing his crotch with every grind of your hips, the way he pulsed and twitched inside of you.

He was right there, threatening to dissolve into pleasure.

James was too, the pitch of his voice turning the slightest bit higher in a mess of moans and half-babbled words as he chased his release like a drowning man chased oxygen. A telltale of his approaching orgasm.

And you knew he wanted it, reach his high and paint Regulus’ throat into the finest of masterpieces.

You, on the other hand, had something else in mind, Regulus’ earlier words echoing in your brain like a hypnotizing mantra.

“Don't let him come” you panted, breath hot and uneven against the Slytherin’s ear.

A broken protest left James’ mouth as Regulus did exactly as you told, lips red and swollen as he pulled away from James’ hard as steel cock.

“Torturing your own boyfriend, chérie ?” he rasped, latching onto your lips not even a second later like you were the air he needed to live. Hungry, desperate, and tasting so undoubtedly James.

The rhythm of your hips got faster and faster, ruthless, your vision slowly fading to black as waves of pleasure washed over you, setting your entire body ablaze.

“No-” you purred, your mouth curling in a blissful smirk, lust taking over all your senses, and annihilating each and every one of your filters “-I just want you to make a mess of me –both of you– until I’m wrecked, dripping, and so full of your cum that I can barely focus on any other thought that’s not your cocks fucking every single grain of sanity out of me”

Muscles tense beneath your touch, alabaster skin slick with sweat and steam rising with goosebumps. 

A deliberate roll of your hips unraveled Regulus completely, his body shuddering beneath you as he spilled over the edge.

Your back arched in bliss, white noise buzzing in your ears as pleasure consumed you. Heat flooded your core, his release marking you once more, just as he had countless times before. 

You drank in every broken moan, tasting them on your tongue as they tangled with your own.

The rhythm of your movements softened, slowing into something languid, drawing out every last pulse of his pleasure. Until it halted completely.

Heavy breaths filled the air, chests rising and falling rhythmically as you and Regulus slowly came down from your high. 

The buzzing noise humming in your ears faded bit by bit, letting you regain a little clarity of your surroundings once again. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t silence you were met with, but a melody of debauched, open-mouthed moans.

That sinful sound pulled you back in, each desperate, wrecked moan making your already overstimulated body twitch in response. 

With your mind still fogged by pleasure, you turned your head just enough to catch the sight of James. 

His chest heaving, his cock flushed an angry red and aching, still glistening from Regulus’ mouth, his fingers tight around it as he stroked himself.

“Merlin-” he rasped, his voice wrecked, his hips jerking into his hand as his thumb swept over the leaking tip “You both are trying to kill me”

You barely heard him over the sound of slick skin, of his rough breaths catching in his throat. 

Your gaze dropped to the way his fingers tightened, to the desperate flex of his wrist, to how fucking needy he was, fucking into his own palm while he stared at you like he was starving.

You had seen James needy before, seen him desperate, begging even, but not like this. Never like this.

It felt like pure gasoline poured on a fire still burning bright and strong.

And from the way Regulus’ fingers dug into your waist, from the sharp inhale against the back of your neck, you knew he felt it too.

“Fuck-” Regulus exhaled as he leaned in close to your ear. Rough, uneven, still catching his breath “-look at him”

And look you did. Because James with his jaw clenched, his breath ragged, his cock twitching in his grip as he slowly dragged his fist over the length, teasing himself, like he was trying to make it last, like he wanted to savor how utterly ruined you and Regulus looked, looked like an absolute mess.

The hottest, most delectable, and unbelievably gorgeous mess you had ever seen.

You smirked, barely recovered from your own high, but still craving more. Still craving him.

Still craving everything.

You clenched around Regulus, your breath stuttering. A slow, aching pulse thrummed low in your stomach, as your body took full control.

“Like what you see, Reggie ?” you whimpered, the thick veil of tease not enough to conceal the wreckage in your voice. 

Regulus groaned softly beneath you, his cock swelling against your sensitive walls once again, slowly, reacting to that masterpiece of a scene in front of you.

“I do-” his lips brushed your shoulders, his tongue tracing a sultry path up to your neck, his breath caressing the shell of your ear sending another sharp pulse of heat through you “-and I think he does, too”

You knew he did. You could see it. 

The way James’ fist tightened around himself, the way his hips rocked back and forth like he wanted nothing more than to shove you onto your back and bury himself inside you.

And there was nothing you wanted more.

A smirk curled at your lips, despite the way heat sparked in your belly. 

“Should we give him the full show ?”

Then you moved.

Slowly. Deliberately.

You lifted yourself up just enough to make Regulus exhale sharply, feeling every inch of him drag against your walls as you adjusted, turning, shifting, taking your time as you swung one leg over and settled back down onto him, your back molding against his chest, thighs spread wide over his, now facing James.

Now giving him the perfect view.

Your boyfriend’s strokes faltered, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes glued to the sight in front of him.

Your parted lips. Your heaving chest. The way your thighs trembled over Regulus.’ But most of all, the place where you were still stretched full, where slickness dripped down onto Regulus’ lap, where you were spread wide and open for James to see.

“Holy fuck-” Regulus groaned breathlessly behind you, his chest rising and falling hard against your back. His fingers dug into your thighs, a slow, disbelieving exhale brushing your shoulder.

You hummed, tilting your head, feigning innocence as you rocked your hips once. Just enough to feel Regulus shift inside you, just enough to tear a ragged gasp from his throat. 

Just enough to let James see exactly how full you were.

A choked-off curse left your boyfriend’s lips, his fingers twitching against his cock, his hips jerking like he couldn’t help himself, like he would’ve crumbled to pieces if he didn’t get a taste of your skin.

His jaw was slack, his hazel eyes glued to the sight of your body spread open for him, the way Regulus gripped your thighs for dear life, giving James everything as his hips bucked up, just enough to grant him some sweet relief.

James’ rhythm faltered, now uncoordinated and on the verge of desperation, caught between the overwhelming urge to keep touching himself and the way he physically couldn’t look away.

“I-” his voiced cracked “I can’t- I don’t-”

“Tell me what you want, Jamie” you coaxed, voice honey-sweet despite the need threatening to consume you whole “Tell me what you need”

“You-” your boyfriend finally rasped, voice broken, pleading “I fucking need you”

Your stomach flipped, heat licking at your spine at the way James looked at you like he was a breath away from falling apart. Like he would’ve begged to have you.

“Yeah ?” you breathed, a hazy grin settling on your lips, thighs parting slightly wider, a silent invitation “Come and take me, then”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

“Fucking hell-” he growled, tearing his hand away from himself so fast you barely had time to react before he was on you, gripping, pressing, his slick palm sliding over your thigh as he shoved his way between your legs.

“You dangerous, dangerous woman” he muttered, his voice wrecked as his lips crashed against yours, messy and desperate. His cock was hot and heavy against your stomach, smearing precum against your skin as he rutted against you like he couldn’t help himself “You-” his fingers traced over your soaked skin, teasing, testing “-are going to destroy me, you know ?”

“Like you wouldn’t let me” you murmured, tongue brushing against his, tasting him, fingers clawing at his back, feeling the heated skin under your touch.

James groaned, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, his breath shuddering as he throbbed against you.

“I would- I- so fucking would-” he whispered on your mouth, a sharp breath punched from his lungs like he was barely holding himself together. His grip tightened, his body shaking “-I’m at your mercy, remember ? I’m yours. Yours to ruin, yours to wreck, yours to break. I’m yours. You could tear my heart out of my ribcage and stomp on it, and I’d still bleed for you, Y/n”

Heat ignited into every cell of your body.

Because you knew it. Those weren’t just words. James would’ve gladly surrendered to you, laid himself open and raw before you if it meant making you happy, if it meant seeing just the shadow of a smile on your face.

You felt Regulus’ breath hitch behind you. His body suddenly tense.

You could hear it in the way he exhaled sharply, feel it in the way his fingers dug into your thighs like he needed something to hold onto. 

James’ confession had affected him.

You felt him move before you saw it, the way his hand ghosted up James’ arm, up his shoulder. Fingertips tracing, lingering on glistening, taut muscles.

And then --Regulus looked at him, his gaze locked to pleading, begging hazel pools of warmth.

“Reg-”

“Shh-” Regulus whispered, tilting his head, brushing his lips against James’ jaw.

A tease. A question etched in his eyes. Silent, searing.

James broke.

His hands left your skin for only a second, just long enough to grip Regulus by the back of the neck and drag him in.

His answer.

The kiss was hungry.

Not careful, not measured. Just a desperate clash of lips and teeth and tongue, of gasping breaths and ragged moans as James lost himself in it.

Regulus groaned, his fingers tightening in James’ hair, tugging, tilting his chin just enough to take more, enough to brand his taste on his tongue too.

"Fuck-" the Slytherin rasped, his hand on James’s jaw, his thumb swiping over his cheek, bringing him impossibly closer “-does this mean you’re mine too, now ?”

James whimpered into Regulus’ mouth, his body thrumming with heat, with need, his cock pressing hot and heavy against your stomach, slick and aching and-

“I can be”

Regulus’ fingers tightened around him, his breath shuddering as something unreadable, something dangerous, flickered across his face. His thumb traced absently over the curve of James’ shoulder, the touch almost reverent, almost claiming.

James’ breath hitched.

'I can be'

The words still lingered in the air, thick with promise. With surrender.

Your heart stuttered.

Because you knew what that was.

James wasn’t just surrendering to you.

He was surrendering to both of you. You and Regulus.

“God-" you exhaled, thighs instinctively spreading wider, your nails digging into James’ back, into Regulus’ wrist.

Regulus exhaled sharply, his grip flexing where his hand still pressed against James’ back, his body rigid beneath you. You could feel him, still thick and hot inside you, still stretched wide around him, still sensitive from how he had already ruined you once.

And yet, you wanted more.

Regulus must have felt it too, the way your walls clenched around him at just the thought, because his breath hitched, his fingers twitching against James’ skin, his pupils blown as he flicked his gaze down.

James followed his stare, down to where you were still spread open, still taking Regulus, still dripping around him.

"Fuck-" he gritted out, voice strangled "I can’t-"

"Then don’t," you whispered, arching into him, your lips curling slightly, reassuringly "Take what you need, Jamie."

James shuddered.

His hands grasped at your thighs, your hips, gripping, lifting. Your body arching between them, your breath shattering as you felt James press against you, his cock hard and leaking, teasing at your entrance where Regulus already stretched you.

Your whole body shook.

"F-fuck–" you gasped, fingers digging into James' shoulders, into Regulus’ chest beneath you, overwhelmed by the sheer filth of it, of them, of this.

James groaned, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, his body trembling as his hips stuttered, teasing, testing, like he could barely believe this was real. Like he was afraid if he moved too fast, it would all shatter.

Regulus smirked beneath you, low and wrecked, his hands smoothing over your waist before trailing down, down, teasing over where you were slick and spread and waiting for James to take you.

"Come on, James" Regulus murmured, his voice sinful, his fingers ghosting over James’ cock, guiding, lining him up. "Don’t you want to fill her up like she asked ?"

James growled. And then he thrust, sinking into you in one deep, desperate movement.

The stretch was blinding.

A choked moan tore from your throat, your fingers clutching, clawing at James as he sank into you, slow but deep, your body struggling to take him, to take both of them.

James let out a wrecked sound, his entire body trembling as he buried himself to the hilt, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath hot and ragged.

"Fuck- fuck, oh my God- I can feel him," he gasped, his voice cracking, his hands tightening on your waist like he was barely holding himself together.

Regulus groaned beneath you, his fingers flexing where they gripped your thighs, his head tipping back as his hips jerked, just enough to make you whimper. 

"You feel fucking unreal-" James rasped, his lips brushing against yours, his body shuddering, his eyes fluttering shut like he was dizzy with it “-you're so, shit- you're soaked, baby”

“Please- fuck-” you gasped, voice breaking as another sharp wave of pleasure rolled through you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but feel. Feel them working you open, pushing and pulling, stretching you to the point of delirium.

Regulus exhaled harshly, his grip shifting, one hand sliding up your waist, his fingers pressing into your ribs.

“Good girl-” he mused, his voice strained, his control slipping further with each thrust, his cock throbbing inside you, his breath coming in uneven gasps “-taking us so fucking well”

There was no escape from the sensation, no reprieve from the slow, devastating rhythm of them taking you closer and closer to heaven.

Your own body betrayed you, hips rolling instinctively, chasing every ounce of friction they gave you. Heat coiled deep in your stomach, thighs trembling, pleasure licking up your spine like fire. It was too much. Too much and not enough, your senses overloaded as the pleasure built, scalding and unbearable.

The way you clenched around them sent James spiraling, his body jerking against you. 

“Fuck- fuck- fuck-” he swore, voice cracking, his hips stuttering as his control slipped. “Shit, baby- I’m- fuck-, I can’t-” 

His breath hitched, his fingers digging into your hips as he slammed into you one last time, his body locking up as he came, deep and hot, a wrecked groan spilling from his lips.

Regulus cursed beneath you, a sharp, desperate sound, his hands tightening bruisingly on your waist. Your body spasmed between them, their heat pushing you over the edge, pleasure crashing through you in blinding waves.

You were shattering, piece by piece. Every nerve burning, every thrust driving you further into ruin, making your head spin, your thoughts blank, nonexistent, words a babbling mess of incoherent whimpers and mewls.

"Fucking hell-" Regulus’s voice was strained, hoarse, his rhythm breaking as he chased the high, your body milking him for everything he had. His grip faltered, his breath coming in sharp gasps before he finally gave in, hips snapping up as he spilled inside you, a low, drawn-out groan slipping from his lips.

James was still trembling against you, his forehead pressed to your shoulder, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

Regulus lay back beneath you, utterly spent, his fingers twitching against your skin, his own breath ragged and uneven.

For a moment, none of you moved, the only sound in the room the slow, unsteady rhythm of your breathing.

James let out a weak, breathless laugh, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder “Holy fuck”

A sharp, satisfied hum rumbled from Regulus’s chest, his hands lazily tracing over your waist, like he wasn’t quite ready to let go yet. You felt the lazy glide of James’s fingers along your thigh, his breath still hot against your shoulder as he murmured “Look at you. You’re so fucking full, baby”

The words sent a shiver through you, your body still aching, still sensitive as you felt the heat of them spilling from you, slick and warm, already dripping between your thighs.

“Such a beautiful mess” Regulus breathed, his lips caressing the shell of your ear, his fingers tightening for a moment before he shifted beneath you, pulling out slowly, a strangled moan echoing in his throat.

James groaned, his lips brushing against your jaw as he eased himself back, sliding out of you with a hiss. He trailed his fingers down your thigh, teasing along the mess between your legs, swiping at the slick wetness before bringing them to his lips. His tongue flicked out, tasting, and his eyes fluttered shut. 

“Shit-” the Slytherin murmured, head tilting up slightly, meeting your boyfriend’s hazy eyes, voice thick with something dark, something indulgent “-that’s filthy, Potter”

James’ lips curled into a lazy smirk, fingers still glistening as he slowly brought them to Regulus’ mouth, brushing the plump flesh, teasing, taunting as he smeared the intoxicating mix of your arousals on his lips, making them shine, glisten under the warm light of the setting sun.

“What was it again ?” your boyfriend’s voice dropped low, almost challenging, sending a shiver down your spine “You wanted to taste me on Y/n’s dripping cunt ?”

Regulus breathed, letting out a low chuckle, his eyes dark, dangerous. But you could feel the tension in his body, the way his hands flexed against your hips. 

Your breath hitched, your body still trembling from the aftershocks as, without a warning, Regulus parted his lips, engulfing James’ digits into the warmth of his mouth.

James sucked in a sharp breath as Regulus’s tongue curled around them, dragging slowly and deliberate over the length, tasting himself, tasting James, tasting all of you. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, a quiet, satisfied sound slipping from him.

The Gryffindor's breath hitched, his pupils dilating as he watched, utterly transfixed.

Regulus pulled back with a soft ‘pop’, his tongue flicking out to catch a stray drop at the corner of his mouth. His lips curved slightly, knowing, teasing.

“What ?” he murmured, tilting his head, his voice like silk, smooth and unshaken “Wouldn’t want to waste a drop, would we ?”

James let out a ragged chuckle, his fingers tracing along Regulus’s jaw before he tugged him closer, pressing their lips together in a slow, deep kiss, sharing the taste between them.

You whimpered softly, body shuddering at the sight, at the way their tongues tangled, at the way they both moaned into it. 

Your head spun, heat pooling low in your stomach despite the exhaustion humming in your bones.

Regulus pulled away first, his lips glistening, his eyes dark and knowing as they met yours, your head laying on his shoulder as you basked in utter bliss. He let his fingers ghost down your legs, your waist, your breasts, lips kissing your cheek tenderly, almost reverentially before he moved, shifting carefully, slipping away from behind you and guiding you onto the bench, laying you out before them.

A meal on a silver platter.

Your back hit the cool wood, sending a sharp contrast through the heat still simmering in your veins. 

Goosebumps raised all over your body.

In a heartbeat, Regulus was in front of you, chest to chest with James as he looked at him like he wanted to devour him. 

“Fuck-” James breathed, his voice rough, wrecked, completely entranced.

Regulus’s smirk deepened slightly, pleased, his fingers ghosting over James’s shoulders and then-

“Sit”

And James ? James obeyed without batting an eye, sitting in between your legs, the mess of your clothes on the floor shielding his naked, heated skin from the cold hardwood.

Regulus sank down, deliberate, slow, crawling up until he was straddling James’s lap, pressing their bodies flush together, long fingers tracing his chest as he adjusted himself.

You swore you felt your heart stuttered, a sharp pulse of arousal licking through you at the sight.

James sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers twitching, his head tilting back slightly to meet Regulus’s gaze. His hands instinctively slid down, gripping Regulus’s hips, holding him there like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to push him closer or pull him away before he lost his mind entirely.

Regulus leaned in, close enough that their noses brushed, his breath warm against James’s lips. 

“Don’t lose yourself yet-” he murmured, teasing, his fingers trailing up to James’s jaw. “-we still have a mess to clean up.”

James exhaled shakily, his grip tightening, his head spinning. He was completely gone, completely undone.

He let out a quiet groan, eyes fluttering shut for a second before he forced them open again, dragging his gaze back to you. 

You were still sprawled out on the bench, watching them, lips parted, eyes wide with heat and anticipation.

Regulus turned his attention back to you as well, tilting his head slightly. His fingers trailed down James’s wrist, guiding one of his hands between your legs.

James shuddered as he obeyed, dragging his fingers through the slick mess of them still dripping from you. He brought his fingers up, watching as Regulus smirked, catching his wrist and pulling it toward him.

Without breaking eye contact, Regulus parted his lips and took James’s fingers into his mouth. Again.

James cursed, his entire body tensing, his cock twitching beneath Regulus despite how spent he was. The wet heat of Regulus’s mouth around his fingers, the slow drag of his tongue, the way he sucked every drop from them. It was fucking intoxicating.

When Regulus finally pulled off, his tongue flicking over his lower lip, he huffed a quiet chuckle 

“I think you like this a bit too much, Potter” he murmured, amusement lacing his voice.

James let out a shaky breath, a slow, crooked smirk tugging at his lips “No such thing” he rasped.

Regulus chuckled softly before leaning back slightly, adjusting himself on James’ lap as they both settled between your legs.

James looked mesmerized. By Regulus, by you, by all of it. By the heat still simmering in Regulus’s gaze, by the way he looked so completely at ease straddling him, by the way his weight felt against him.

Regulus hummed softly, trailing a finger along your thigh before flicking his gaze toward James. “Are you just going to stare?” he murmured, teasing “Don’t you want a proper taste ?”

James let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head slightly, his hands flexing on Regulus’s waist. “You’re going to be the death of me. Both of you”

Regulus smirked, leaning in until their lips were nearly touching. 

“Not yet” he murmured.

And then, together, they turned their attention back to you.

“Lay back, love” Regulus whispered, his fingers trailing up your thigh, his touch featherlight but searing “Let us clean you up”

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up, your legs spreading even wider, making space for them, giving them the full view of your dripping cunt, of the mess they had made.

The first slow stroke of their tongues sent a sharp tremor through your body, your breath catching in your throat, your fingers twisting into the bench beneath you.

Regulus was slow, teasing, drawing soft noises from you with every lazy flick of his tongue, while James was deliberate, relentless, his hands gripping Regulus’s hips as he buried himself in the taste of you. 

Their mouths brushed against each other as they moved, tongues sliding together against you as they both worked to devour you completely.

“Ah- ah- Oh my, fuck-” obscene moans rippled from your mouth as your hands flew to their hair, pulling, bringing them closer, seeking the heavenly feeling of their mouths on you.

James groaned into you, completely drowning in it, his grip tightening on Regulus like he needed something to keep himself tethered, his hands sliding lower, cupping Regulus’ ass as he pulled him closer, their cocks trapped between their rocking bodies. 

Regulus hummed in satisfaction, grinding down, tilting his head just enough for their tongues to brush against each other, slick and hungry, savoring you together.

 They licked and kissed and tasted you until you were shaking, until you were barely coherent, until all you could do was feel.

A broken sob ripped from your throat, pleasure tearing through you in an unstoppable wave, your entire body seizing beneath them, breaking, completely at their mercy.

They didn’t stop, didn’t pull away until they had taken everything from you, until you were spent, trembling, wrecked beyond recognition.

When Regulus finally sat back, his lips were swollen, his chin glistening, his body still firmly settled on James’s lap. 

James just stared at him, completely dazed, completely entranced, completely gone. Just like you.

Regulus licked his lips, smirking slightly. 

“You’re surprisingly sweet, Potter” he murmured, a glint of mischief sparkling in his lidded eyes.

James let out a breathless, wrecked chuckle, shaking his head.

“You really are something” a deep, satisfied sigh rumbled from his chest as he slumped back, his head lolling against your thigh. His grip on Regulus’s hips loosened, one hand tracing lazy, absentminded circles against his skin, the other slowly caressing your leg, fingers dancing on your calf.

Regulus made a soft, amused sound, but he didn’t move right away either. He just sat there, still straddling James, his back rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. One of his hands trailed over James’s chest, featherlight, and the other reached for you.

His fingertips grazed your thigh, slow, delicate, before he let his palm settle there, warm and grounding.

For a long moment, the three of you just breathed.

Your body felt boneless, floating. Completely wrecked, completely spent, your limbs weak as you melted into the bench beneath you.

Then, James huffed out a quiet, breathless laugh. 

“Fuck-” His voice was wrecked, hoarse, like he had forgotten how to speak properly.

You let out a small, exhausted chuckle in response, turning your head toward them. Your muscles ached in the best way, your skin still humming with the remnants of their touch. 

“Yeah-” you murmured, voice thick with exhaustion “-that about sums it up.”

James cracked a lazy grin, his fingers tightening slightly on Regulus’s waist “Give me a second, and I swear I’ll be able to think straight again”

Regulus hummed, his lips curving faintly as he leaned down slightly, his nose brushing against James’s jaw. 

“Have you ever had that kind of ability ?” he murmured, voice rich with amusement and that trademark sarcasm.

James huffed, shaking his head, but he didn’t argue.

Instead, he turned his head slightly, looking at you. 

His expression softened, something warm flickering in his eyes as they raked over you, your blissed-out expression, the glow on your skin, the way your chest still rose and fell in uneven breaths.

“You alright, baby ?” he asked softly, eyes glossy and warm, so warm as he left small, soothing kisses on the sensitive skin of your thigh.

Your heart swelled in your chest.

“Mmh,” you let out a soft hum, fingers brushing through his hair reassuringly “More than alright”

And it was true, you were more than just ‘alright.’ You were on cloud nine, cloud fucking ten, if it was possible. 

That had happened. And this time it wasn’t just a fantasy, it wasn’t just a product of your fervid imagination, no.

They were there, James and Regulus, in flesh and blood. 

And you were full of them.

Regulus shifted, still half sprawled on James’ lap, his fingers tracing light patterns on your stomach, featherlight and absentminded, like he was soothing you without even realizing it.

You could feel his gaze on you. Heavy, warm, lingering. 

You shivered, your eyes flicking up to his as he watched you with something too knowing in that sea of molten silver. 

Curiosity. Interest. 

“Come on” a tired chuckle rolled off your lips “Ask me. I know you want to”

He didn’t say anything. Just looked at you with that calculating gleam that told you more than words could, his fingers still trailing over your skin.

A half-smirk curled at his lips.

“How long ?” he asked then, voice low, smooth as silk.

James, still catching his breath, shifted slightly. 

“Mmh ?” he let out a tired, confused hum, his head still blissfully propped on your thigh “How long what ?”

But you weren’t looking at James.

Your eyes were locked on Regulus, and his searching gaze.

“You planned this-” he murmured, ignoring your boyfriend entirely, his voice laced with amusement “-so I want to know-” his head tilted “how long have you been waiting for this exact moment?”

“Long enough” you admitted finally, your hand taking Regulus’ and holding it, playing with his slender absentmindedly “Ever since I caught you two eye-fucking each other in the Great Hall like the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables didn’t exist”

Regulus let out a quiet, sharp breath through his nose, like he'd been caught in a checkmate he hadn’t even realized he was playing. But the corner of his mouth curled up, eyes glinting with something darkly entertained.

James’ eyebrows scrunched; confusion etched all over his face.

“So that’s why-” Regulus continued “-why you seemed so confident when you suggested this. Why you didn’t hesitate. Why you knew I’d say yes.”

“I didn’t” you admitted, lips twitching. 

And it was the truth. You couldn’t have known for sure. It was a total leap of faith, a jump in the darkness of your own fantasies, though you could see the faintest flicker of light sparkling at the end of the tunnel, the heat of their gazes as fire met ice.

Regulus arched an eyebrow.

The ghost of a smirk hunted your lips “Let’s just say I had a hunch”

“So, you messed with the Slytherin showers” Regulus stated, bemused. He was not asking. He already knew. 

“Oh, no. I didn’t even touch the showers” you answered, almost innocently, a coy grin slowly blooming on your lips “Barty did it for me”

Silence.

Then-

“I’m sorry, what ?!”

James sat up so fast you almost laughed, his entire body snapping upright as if someone had just hexed him. 

He looked between you and Regulus, his mouth parting slightly, like he had just connected the dots, put together the pieces of a puzzle that still hadn’t revealed its full design to him. 

“You-” He blinked rapidly, his gaze flickering to you like your words had just registered in his brain “-you what ?”

Regulus chuckled, shaking his head, the corners of his lips tilting up with something close to admiration.

”Y/n here has been playing chess while we’ve been playing Quidditch, Potter” he said smoothly, watching as realization wrecked James with the force of a Bludger to the chest as his hand traced patterns on his thigh “She planned this”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you as James gawked at you, his lips parting, then closing, then parting again.

It was like watching a short-circuited broom struggle to regain balance.

His fingers curled, uncurled.

“She-” James gaped, eyes widening almost cartoonishly, eyebrows fusing with his hairline “-What ?!”

“She planned this” Regulus repeated, his expression nothing short of entertained as he watched James’ entire worldview slowly implode “Your sweet little girlfriend set us up, James”

For a moment, just a single moment, he didn’t say anything.

You grinned.

"You said it yourself, didn’t you ?" you whispered lowly, a hint of amusement laced in your tone as you pushed yourself off the bench, finally slipping down to the floor between them, your back pressing against James’ chest as you stretched your legs over Regulus’ “Hogwarts showers can’t just break”

James inhaled sharply, simply sitting there, goggling at you absolutely floored. The gears in his brain turned and twisted, almost letting smoke out of his ears as you watched the realization hit him fully in the chest.

“Fucking hell-” he gasped, letting out the most flabbergasted laugh you had ever heard, turning his full frantic attention to you “-you did plan this !”

Regulus let out a quiet chuckle, his hands still skimming over your thighs.

"You really had no idea ?" he deadpanned, despite his lips curling into a grin.

James whipped to face him so fast you thought he might give himself whiplash.

"I-" he gestured wildly, looking between you and Regulus like he had just stumbled into some grand, ancient conspiracy. "What? No! How- when-" he huffed a breathless laugh, running a hand through his already thoroughly ruined hair. "I knew you were smart, but this is- you're-" his voice wavered somewhere between awe and sheer disbelief “Baby, you’re a bloody mastermind”

Your head tipped back against his shoulder, a laugh you couldn’t stop vibrating in your chest at your boyfriend’s utterly transfixed expression, like a kid seeing cotton candy for the first time.

“I wouldn’t go that far” you sighed fondly, cupping James’ face between both hands and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. 

The moment your mouth met his, he melted. His hands, still gripping your waist, pulled you tighter against him, fingers pressing into your skin like he needed the contact to ground himself. His lips parted under yours, his breath warm and uneven as he kissed you back slow and deep, as if he was trying to memorize the shape of your mouth. The bafflement from earlier dissolved, forgotten, swallowed by the warmth of your lips and the press of your body against his.

“You don’t seem too mad,” you murmured sweetly, a playful lilt in your voice as your fingers absently toyed with a stray lock of his hair.

James exhaled sharply, his hands tightening their grip on you, like he had to physically hold onto something to keep from floating away.

“Mad ?” he repeated, sounding almost delirious. He blinked rapidly, as if still trying to process the past hour of his life. “I mean-” he let out a breathless, wrecked little laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know if being scared and beyond turned on is entirely normal, but mad ? Hell no”

“Scared and horny ?” you chuckled, tracing light patterns over his collarbone with your fingertips “That’s ok. I can work with that”

“Of course, you can” Regulus murmured, his voice smooth as silk as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against the side of your face. His lips brushed featherlight against your temple before moving down, leaving a slow, almost lazy kiss beneath your jaw.

You sighed, your body melting further into James behind you, your fingers reaching for Regulus’ wrist, pulling him in just a little more.

You could feel your boyfriend’s gaze on you, the way his fingers traced your sides, your arms, your hair. Like he couldn't believe the last hour of his life had been reality and not a dream, like it had been just a fever dream.

“You look like you’re having a bit of a crisis” Regulus mused, voice smooth, teasing as his lips moved from your skin to James’ “Need a moment?”

James let out a breathless, incredulous laugh, still trying to wrap his head around it all.

“I- Yes? Maybe?” his hands trailed over Regulus’ body, hazel eyes focused on his sinuous figure as he crawled to you, to him “Shit- I don’t know, my brain isn’t working properly right now”

Regulus hummed, smirking slightly “Is that supposed to be news ?”

James shot him a half-hearted glare, still dazed, still drunk on the feeling of your body on his, of Regulus’ lips ghosting over his pulse “I’ll have you know I have a perfectly functioning brain…most times”

“Sure you do” Regulus drawled, but there was a glint of playfulness in his stormy eyes, amusement as his lips traveled up, dragging slow, open-mouthed kisses along James’ throat. James let out a sharp breath, hands tightening on Regulus' waist, body tensing beneath him like he was barely keeping himself together.

You could feel the way James’ heart stuttered in his chest when Regulus hovered, lips just barely grazing his jaw, his breath warm against his skin. 

And then, finally, he closed the space between them.

The kiss was deliberate, slow, intoxicating, an exhale of heat between them. James sighed into it, one hand threading into Regulus’ hair, tugging him closer like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

You watched, mesmerized, warmth blooming deep in your chest, pooling lower when James tilted his head slightly, parting his lips just enough to let Regulus deepen the kiss, their tongues brushing, slow and teasing.

Regulus made a pleased sound against his mouth, swallowing James’ quiet groan, like he could drink him in.

It was unfair, really, how good they looked like this, how easy they made it seem. Like they had always belonged in this moment.

Your lips parted slightly, breath caught in your throat, the ache of need spreading like fire beneath your skin.

Regulus must have noticed, because he pulled back just enough to glance at you, his silver eyes heavy-lidded, dark with amusement and something deeper.

“Do it, chérie” His voice was low, knowing, showcasing his ability to read your mind with just a simple glance “I know you want to”

“Shit-” James blinked, dazed, like he had just remembered you were there. “Sorry, love, I got a little-”

You huffed a soft laugh, shaking your head, before you reached out, fingers curling at the back of Regulus’ neck, tugging him toward you.

His breath hitched slightly, but he let you pull him in, his lips slotting over yours effortlessly.

It was warm, dizzying, the slow drag of his mouth, the way he sighed into the kiss like he had been waiting for it.

Then James' hands were on your waist, sliding up, tilting your face slightly toward him, his lips ghosting over your jaw, your cheek, before finally capturing your mouth in a kiss of his own, deeper this time, desperate and sweet all at once.

Regulus hummed against you, amused, pleased, as he leaned back in, his lips brushing against both of yours, soft, fleeting, before deepening again, the three of you tangled in warmth, in breathless, hazy want.

You felt utterly consumed. By the weight of James’ hands, the heat of Regulus’ mouth, the way they both fit against you so perfectly, like this was always meant to happen.

By the time you finally broke apart, all of you were flushed, breathless, lips tingling from the sheer intensity of it.

James let out a stunned, wrecked sort of laugh, his head falling back against the bench “Okay. Yeah. That was- that was definitely new”

“I’d say you handled it well enough, Potter” Regulus smirked, dragging his fingers down James’ arm, his other hand skimming over your body.

“Barely” James scoffed, half-amused, half-dazed.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to James’ jaw before shifting toward Regulus, lips brushing over his one last time, basking in the warmth, in pure bliss.

“We should do that again” you offer, batting your eyelashes in the fakest attempt at innocence.

James scoffed softly, a hint of disbelief shining through. 

“You’re a menace” he murmured, though the way his arms curled tighter around you, the way his lips brushed your shoulder between words, made it clear he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Regulus hummed in agreement, his lips curving faintly against your skin. 

“An insatiable menace” he corrected, but there was something undeniably fond in his tone.

“And yet-” you murmured, a playful smirk tugging at your lips “-I don’t see either of you complaining” 

“Complaining ? Are you kidding ?” James let out a breathless laugh, tipping his head back against the bench with a dazed grin “This is the best day of my fucking life”

Regulus scoffed, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. "Salazar, you’re ridiculous," he muttered, shaking his head. 

Then, softer, he let his fingers trace lazy circles on your hip, his gaze trailing on your pleased smile "But I suppose you’re not wrong”

“Damn right I’m not” James beamed, pressing a kiss to your temple before reaching for Regulus, pulling him in with a smirk. 

You hummed, utterly content, stretching like a cat between them as their hands instinctively roamed over you, absentminded, reverent, like they never wanted to stop touching you. 

A satisfied sigh escaped your lips, your fingers brushing against James’ jaw, then gliding down Regulus’ arm.

A reminder that they were there, they were real, and you were full of them.

In more ways than one.

Hello my beautiful people 💗

It's been quite a while, isn't it ? I hope you're all doing good and that life is treating you kindly.

To make up for my absence I made sure to make this extra long, and extra filthy because I felt EXTRA guilty.

I hope you enjoy this, and thank you again for waiting literal MONTHS for this.

I hope it's worth it 💖

His trip to Dorne wasn't meant to admire the beautiful women of Dorne, but rather to secure the Blacks alliance with the Martell family. It was his first night in Dorne after a long, cold dragon ride, and now, he sat at the dinner table in the Martells' Great Hall, all the while you sat at the head, watching him silently.

Although you were a bastard of the Martell family, that didn't stop your high position within the family as their Queen. Daemon had never met you until now, only heard many rumors about your temperament and the way you ran things in Dorne.

At first, he thought you a fool, letting your counsel run everything while you sat back and slept around with the men of Dorne—that's what the rumors said—but then, within fifteen minutes of arriving in Dorne—Daemon realized you were doing things right.

One of your counselors did all the talking, but with every look and glance the counselor gave you, Daemon could see the caution the counselor had at saying the wrong things, and the way you stared at the man like at any second you would slap him with a wooden paddle.

You were the sort of leader who didn't mind looking weak, as long as someone stupid enough believed it and proved the rumors wrong. You didn't mind the people in Kings Landing thinking you were uncaring of your position, because now, when the Greens had overlooked your alliance, the Blacks hadn't—and the Martells were an important ally to have.

"How does Her Grace fare?" You questioned lightly, face placid and bored as you stared down at Daemon from across the table, your curly hair pulled back into an intricate bun that revealed the slopes of your face.

Daemon didn't answer immediately, too busy stuffing immaculately caramelized duck into his mouth, snow white hair unfurling from behind his ears. He'd yet to cut it since the beginning of the war, so now, it fell down to his back, tied back complexly, but frizzy because of the ride.

"She is as well as a Queen during a war can be." You hummed lightly, eyes slipping to Daemon's agile fingers as he scooped more food onto his silverware. "And you, Prince Daemon?" It was clear you didn't entirely care, with the way you glanced away, waving a servant over to pour more Dornish wine.

"How about we cut the formalities. Her Grace would like your aid in the war against the Greens." The counselman at the table stiffened at Daemon's harsh tone, and they all glanced away from you as you chuckled, matching Daemon's gaze tenfold.

"My formalties are filling your belly, Prince. If it is so much of a waste as you say, then empty your stomach, right now, in that plate." Daemon gave you a smirk, realizing you were as cunning as he was.

"Sorry, Your Grace. I seem to have forgotten myself." Daemon's clenched jaw said otherwise, but you simply nodded, relaxing in your seat as you sipped wine. "Why should I help Rhaenerya and not Alicent? Who is good and who is bad? Who will provide my kingdom with the same security?"

Picking at your nails, you licked your lips, frowning falsely at Daemon, "I hope you haven't come all this way without a proper speech, my Prince." Daemon glanced at your counselman, the one who was a bigger face of Dorne than you were.

"This is the man that everyone thinks should usurp the throne from you. Why is he not speaking?" Daemon pressed his hand to his chin lazily, leaning against the table.

The counselman held Daemon's eye, but didn't speak.

But you cleared your throat, nodding once, calling a servant to refill your cup once more. "Tell him, Lewyn."

Lewyn, the man was called, inhaled deeply, "Her Grace is a bastard, and bastards in the North are seen as weak, not to mention the fact that your people despise women on the throne. With me acting as the forward face of Dorne, there are no issues."

Daemon bit his cheek, refusing a smile, "and it is I who thought you, a bastard, were strong enough for judgment, Your Grace." Lewyn let out a choked gasp, a glare growing on his face, while the other counselmen in the room stayed quiet, waiting for your response.

"Lewyn." You called simply, and the man let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair.

"Say what you'd like, Daemon, but if I wanted to, Dorne could easily overtake King's Landing, then Winterfell, and any other powerhouse in the North. It is because of me that your people haven't fallen. And don't speak on dragons, because with a simple knife to your throat, I can make you and Rhaenyra do whatever I'd like."

The boldness in your tone made Daemon sneer, pushing away his plate as he stood, "no one speaks of your ignorance." You chuckled, "now Daemon, if you walk away from this table, you and Dorne are finished, and we all know you can't return to Her Grace empty-handed."

Daemon took a second, eyes matching yours, and steadily, he sat, calling over a servant to fill his cup, chest rising and falling greatly. "No matter what you say of Dorne, your kingdom is heavily cut off from the rest. You rarely have allies, so with the Blacks' help, we can reintegrate you back into the North's good graces."

"Then I shall help." Daemon was taken aback at your quick acceptance, and as you stood, face placid, feet bare, he realized the entire argument was for nothing. You would've accepted either way.

Refusing to outrage, Daemon watched you leave silently. He couldn't even look away if he wanted to. You wore a long, thin, fabric gown that showed every curve and delicate part of your body. Daemon could see the outline of your behind and the soft skin between your breasts.

The gown itself was a sun-colored thing that flowed down to your feet in ruffles and long strips of fabric.

Daemon hated being attracted to you, and he knew you knew by the way you shifted your hips as you walked, calling a pretty servant along with you.

"I hope you enjoy your stay here, Prince."

The next time Daemon saw you was in the castle. You were sitting in the throne room, legs thrown over one arm as you spoke to Lewyn. "He is to stay for a fortnight, Lewyn."

"Can't he leave earlier? The servants are rattled by his presence!" You scoffed at his words, "what is there to be rattled about? He's tall, yes, and he has a bit of muscle, but I could surely put him on his ass."

"I doubt it." Daemon called, strolling inside, delighted at Lewyn's flinch, but the joy went away when you simply chuckled, waving him off.

"Just because some of us don't get involved in a war every so often, doesn't mean we can't defend ourselves." You pushed to your feet, stepping down the stairs, nipples pebbling the thin fabric of your newest gown. It was yellow today, and the edges were dripping in diamonds and glitter, the sleeves extremely long and dragging along with the skirt of the gown.

You came up to him and tilted your head, "would you like to bet a drink on it?" Daemon chuckled, surprised at your gall, hands notching against his hips, "I've fought wars, darling. And what have you done?"

With a simple wave towards Lewyn, he left the throne room, leaving you and Daemon alone.

"People always assume that in Dorne, bastards are treated the same as any other child, but that's untrue." You circled Daemon, gaze sliding from the top of his head down to his feet.

"Children are cruel, and I was forced to deal with the cruelty." With a quick jab to Daemon's stomach, he fell to his knees in front of you, face pinched in pain, letting out little gasps that only made you coo.

Daemon's chest was hot with anger, and as you lifted his chin, he suddenly shot an arm out and grabbed your leg, knocking you onto your ass.

You hit the ground in a cloud of yellow clusters of fabric, chest rising and falling with something akin to shock on your face. "You talk a lot, Your Grace." Daemon said, and you chuckled, pushing up and turning to him with a grin.

"Don't pull your punches, Prince."

Daemon just barely blocked a punch, but you kneed him in the crotch soon after, your skirts making you trip, but you recovered quickly, frowning falsely as Daemon clutched his balls.

"You've been meaning to get me back for humiliating you in front of my counselmen, so here's your chance." Daemon huffed, pushing his hair back and growling as he shot towards you, arms wrapped around your waist.

You hit the ground first, the air ripping out of your lungs, but as soon as Daemon raised a fist to punch you in the nose, you grabbed his wrist, hips raising as you twisted him onto his back.

Straddling his waist, you grabbed a fistful of his hair, ripping his face closer to yours, "I see you for who you are, Daemon. You thought, by coming to Sunspear, that you could easily win my favor because they told you I'm a simple whoring bastard who thinks too highly of herself. Trust me, it is up to me if you leave this fucking city alive or dead."

Throwing him away roughly, you stood, "people talk about how hard a dragon is to kill, but I promise, if you fuck with me, I'll make it easy."

ᨒ

Daemon knew it wasn't right to snoop around the Martell castle after hours, but often he didn't do the right thing. He still had a vendetta against you for not only talking down to him, but putting him on his ass multiple times.

He liked a strong woman—a woman who wasn't afraid to show her fierceness, but you were taking it to another level.

Daemon's footsteps were light against the stone-tiled floor as he crept around the corner, further and further away from his bedchamber. He'd snuck past two guards meant to keep him in line, and now, he was on the eastern wing, closer to your bedchamber.

As he pushed against a wall, he saw a room he hadn't been in before—the door slightly ajar and leaking dim lighting, as well as quiet voices.

He didn't hear you at all, though, which made him want to continue on, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he moved closer, gaze perched in the gap between the door.

What he saw made him freeze entirely, heat spiking up his spine, and a large breath seeping from his lungs.

There you were, surrounded by a quintuplet of men and women, all naked, all glistening with sweat and the like, and all ten hands roaming each other's bodies. You sat in the center, still covered by a thin, silky robe, opened near your legs and revealing a shining cunt that you were stroking dutifully.

Head thrown back, your eyes peered lazily at one of the men fucking another woman, your hand on the woman's ass, pinching and slapping her skin.

Daemon felt his trousers grow tight, one of his hands slipped down his abdomen, lavender colored eyes darkened as he felt himself twitching at the sight of you.

You spun around to your knees, cunt revealed perfectly for Daemon, back arched as you nodded over a large, tan-skinned man who had veins and muscles rippling over his body.

"Make it slow, Ferris." You requested, eyes rolling closed, thick curly hair messy over your back, and rich skin shimmering with glitter and sweat.

Daemon freed his dick from his pants and began rubbing himself, wincing as his boner grew into something painfully sore. He wished he could bound into the room and take you for himself, fuck you until the sun came up.

But now, he had no choice but to sit and watch pathetically, hand tightening around his shaft, balls twitching at each thrust of Ferris's dick.

Precum leaked out of Daemon's pale dick, coating his hand, but it did little more than encourage him, eyebrows furrowed as he listened to your sweet moans, your cheek pressed against the chaise beneath you, eyes pointed towards the entrance of the room, but heavy-lidded.

"Fucking—bitch," Daemon muttered, muscles clenched tight, fucking his hand, chest rising and falling rapidly, strands of snow-white hair sticking to his jaw.

"Ferris, I think we have company." You muttered, lips pressing against one of your companions, voice low as you watched Daemon pump himself through the sliver of the door. He was cumming, eyes closed, face peeled into one of pleasure, hair frizzy but voluminous as it slithered over his shoulder.

"Will he leave anytime soon?" Ferris wondered, and you shook your head, "let's give him a show." Ferris smirked—he was your go-to dalliance and knew your body inside and out. So he grabbed handfuls of your robe and ripped it in two, revealing your breasts, then he barred a hand across your chest and roughly pulled you up to your knees.

"Think he likes to see you manhandled?" You chuckled, but it blended into a moan, feeling your breathing halt as Ferris grabbed your throat, his hips slamming into you, mouth against your neck as he sucked.

Daemon was watching intently, jacking off slowly, eyes glued to you and only you. The curve of your mouth as you moaned, the rasp of your voice, the pebbling of your nipples, the frizziness of your hair, the curl of your toes.

As your hand slipped down to your clit, Daemon felt fireworks, cumming for the second time, pants down to his ankles carelessly, body icy, but hot all the same.

"Almost there?" Daemon heard Ferris question as he tipped your head up, meeting your lips in a messy kiss. A woman came over then and knelt in front of you, halfway off the chaise as her mouth latched to your cunt, tongue flicking.

Another woman came over, gripped your breasts, pinched your nipples, whispered words in your ears as your your body twisted like a rubberband.

A man approached, ran his hands over every inch of your body, scratching, pinching, kissing, and then finally, you came, a big burst of a moan, body tightening, then releasing all at once, lips still locked around Ferris's.

And that's when Daemon realized he wanted you for himself.

ᨒ

It amused you to tease Daemon. He so clearly took a liking to you after last night's fun, so you decided to taunt him. It would only make the chase more amusing—would only help the desire you had for him ever since he walked through the doors of the Martell castle.

Then, it was a simple attraction, but now, you wanted him for yourself, in all ways, not just sex. You enjoyed his company, even when it was simple bickering.

And, by making Daemon fall in love with you, that would secure the Martells for many more centuries to come.

That wasn't your only motivation, of course, but it benefited your decision to pursue Daemon.

This morning, Ferris was at your side, shirtless, eating a plateful of breakfast, while you'd let go of the other counselmen for the day.

When Daemon entered the room, you didn't pay him any attention, pushing a grape into your mouth, body still fatigued from the night before, and a litter of love bites over your chest to show it.

"Ferris, pass me more grapes." You muttered lightly, eyes sliding past Daemon as he sat across the table, his eyes already on Ferris darkly, as if he wanted to bound across the room and deliver a punch.

Ferris passed you the bowl of grapes, hand brushing yours, mouth pulled into a smirk, then he leaned closer, fingers light against your arm, "did you have fun last night, Your Grace?" You grinned at his words, shrugging, "did it seem like I did?"

Daemon stilled in his chair, eyes drifting from Ferris to you, hands fisting his cup. His eyes glazed over, like he was reliving the entire sequence in his head. He could imagine Ferris fucking you, whispering in your ear.

And he was angry.

The Prince wanted to punch the living hell out of Ferris, force him to never look in your direction again. Then the man spoke again.

"Can I visit you after breakfast?" Daemon slammed his cup down, spilling wine, "Her Grace has an appointment with me." You tilted your head innocently, legs lifting to rest on the table, a sliver of your calf visible, and Ferris ran a hand down your shin, squeezing, "it is business, I assume?"

"It is none of your business, dildo." You let out a surprised chuckle at Daemon's words, pushing Ferris's hand off of you as you stood, "Ferris, it is clear my guest is rattled by your presence. I shall see you at sundown." Ferris gave you a kiss on the cheek, ignoring Daemon's grumble, then he left the room.

"It seems you saw our private matters."

"And it seems like what they say about you is true." You licked your lips, unfazed, "and what is that?"

"Whore, slut, all of it." You scoffed, pushing out of your seat, bare feet padding against the floor as you approached him. Sitting on the edge of the table, you took one of his unfinished sausages and ate it.

"What you saw last night was my version of fun. No one in this city wants to marry a Queen that they say is boring and slutty, and useless. But they don't mind sleeping with her for quick pleasure. Ferris is my constant."

You reached over and pushed a strand of Daemon's hair back, "one thing I find funny, Prince, is that men like you can run around fucking every whore in sight at the brothel and get called heroes and war-winners, but when I, a woman, do the same, I am a slut, a whore."

Slipping into Daemon's lap, you ignored the surprised breath he released, your legs pulled over one armrest, still picking over his plate. "Do you still underestimate me, Daemon?"

Matching his gaze, you brushed his jaw, and Daemon's eyes slid to your lips, and he shook his head, "not any longer." You gave a genuine smile, standing, "then all is well."

Before you could walk away entirely, Daemon grabbed your wrist firmly. You paused, feeling him standing, approaching you from behind, slow and deliberate, hands slipping to your waist.

"Through all of your games, you've forgotten who I am." You hummed, skull against his chest, belly fluttering as his hands drifted down your hips, gripping.

"You cast too much faith in me that I won't kill Ferris. Does he know you're mine now?" Daemon smirked against your cheek, then kissed it, tongue leaving a hot strip down to your collarbone.

Rutting your ass into him, you didn't answer, and Daemon chuckled, spinning you around so he could see your face. "You plan to fuck him tonight. And you know very well that slut will do anything for you."

"He knows what our relationship is, Daemon. We simply have sex—" Daemon wrapped an arm around your waist, cheek against yours, "it is not simply sex, darling. That man loves you, but he won't disobey your orders. And what happens when he finds me in his place tonight?"

You let out a soft moan as Daemon gripped your cunt, slipping a finger inside of you. He curled it dutifully and pressed a kiss to your lips, simple and short.

"He'll try to kill you, Daemon.''

"Then I'll—" you shook your head, "you won't do anything to him, Daemon." You eyed him pointedly, and Daemon battled your stare for a second before he scoffed.

With one swipe of his arm, he pushed everything off the table. Cups hit the ground, plates clanged, and food splattered, but he sat you down, legs raised, and he sank to his knees.

"Have you ever been on your knees for a woman before?" You wondered, eyes fluttering closed at the first brush of Daemon's tongue. He shook his head, "only you."

Humming, you ran a hand through his hair, gripping, hips rutting each time Daemon's tongue flicked against you. His hands made prints in the plumpness of your hips, nails digging, but all you could focus on was him, eyes glued to your face, eyebrows furrowed in determination.

"You're pretty when you're about to cum." You scoffed, legs clamping around his neck to shut him up. Daemon simply slurped you up harder, chin covered in your arousal.

"I am pretty all of the time, Prince."

ᨒ

Daemon came to your bedchamber that night wearing a blood red robe, feet bare, hair damp from a bath, skin awfully flushed when he saw you lying on your bed, lazy and naked.

A book was in your hands, legs propped up, eyes giving him a glance as he pushed the doors closed behind himself and crawled into bed beside you.

"When is Ferris—" you shook your head at Daemon's words, "this isn't about Ferris any longer, Daemon. He has been barred from the castle. Hours ago, he attempted to break into your room, said he suspected you wanted to harm me."

"I wouldn't harm you." Daemon leaned against his arm, face scrunched angrily, hand against your knee, and you nodded. "You wouldn't kill me, Daemon. I've got you wrapped around my finger, politically and romantically. It is only a matter of time before you beg me to your kingdom and want me to have your babes."

Daemon scoffed, chuckling despite himself, "full of yourself, Your Grace."

He slipped the book from your fingers and hovered over you, hand running over your head. "There must be something I bring to the table?"

You chuckled, kissing him, leg wrapping around his waist. "You are a clever man, Daemon. A fierce lover—regardless of how little time you've spent admiring me. You want to protect me. I heard you, the other night, speaking to the staff, asking them why I don't have more guards."

Daemon blushed, but didn't smile, quite embarrassed, but he took off his robe, revealing a carved set of pale abs, still moist from his bath, the ends of his hair brushing your breasts and making you shiver.

"Rhaenyra will curse me for taking a liking to you so quickly."

"Or she shall think you've seduced me and thank you." Daemon shrugged, brushing his dick against your entrance, tip kissing your clit. His moans mixed with yours like a symphony, and he leaned down to suck your breasts, tongue rounding each nipple.

"You are an exceptional woman." He muttered against your skin, thumb pressing against your lips, dick still rutting against your entrance.

You sucked on his finger, biting down a little too fiercely and making him flinch. Daemon grabbed the fat of your thighs and began sinking into you, watching the twist and pull of your face, feeling you squeeze around him.

Air from the open window brushed in, making you shiver, and Daemon's chest pressed against yours, fully hilted, hips thrusting, his icy breath hitting your face.

"Is that good? Better than Ferris?" You scoffed, but nodded, fully widened out, feeling pressure in your abdomen. Your hands were tangled in Daemon's hair, pulling and tugging, making him wince and moan, your other hand squeezing his balls, delighting at each twitch and rough thrust.

But Daemon quickened his pace, lifting to his knees, pounding into you, watching the bounce of your breasts and the moans seep from your lips.

"I could die during this war." Daemon muttered roughly, watching the wave of your skin and the curl of your toes, and you glared at him, "why can't we save the serious talk until after sex?"

He shrugged honestly, "I'd rather not forget." His chest stuttered as he came, thick sprouts of cum feeding into you, and that made you orgasm, body freezing, eyes rolling back into your skull, and Daemon made it intensify as he rubbed your clit.

"You won't die, Daemon." You muttered as he collapsed on top of you, all his weight and heat making you want to stay in bed forever.

As a child, Harry had once stumbled across a series of books Dudley had received for his birthday—a gift he’d promptly discarded in a tantrum after declaring he’d wanted a new gaming system instead.

Harry hadn’t exactly known how to read at the time. He’d pieced words together slowly, sounding them out in whispers late at night beneath his cupboard blanket. But somehow, he’d managed to salvage one of the books from the rubbish bin, thankfully not too stained or torn.

That rescued copy had become one of his most prized possessions.

Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief.

He’d read it over and over again until the spine cracked and the pages softened at the edges. He remembered thinking, even at ten years old, how impossibly oblivious Percy was. How could someone be so blind? Annabeth’s feelings were practically written in flashing neon letters. Surely anyone with half a brain—or at the very least, a pulse—could sense what was happening around them.

Harry had thought it ridiculous.

Fate, apparently, had thought it hilarious.

By the time he reached his sixth year at Hogwarts, it seemed the universe had turned around, smacked him square in the face with that old paperback, and laughed.

Because he had somehow managed to fall hopelessly, painfully, irrevocably in love with one of the most emotionally intelligent people he knew—

And you were completely, utterly oblivious.

The irony was cruel.

You, who had noticed Ron’s ears turning red every time Hermione spoke too passionately about something. You, who had quietly pulled Harry aside months before anyone else caught on and said, “Ron’s falling for her, isn’t he?”

You, who had called Seamus out for his embarrassingly obvious crush on Lavender Brown, comparing him to a child tugging at pigtails during playtime just to get a reaction.

You, who could tell Hermione was in a foul mood simply based on the way she tied her hair that morning.

You—who read people like open books.

Couldn’t tell that your best friend was madly in love with you.

And had been for two years.

At first, Harry had thought he was doing a decent job hiding it. He wasn’t exactly known for emotional finesse—Hermione had smacked him upside the head more than once for being clueless—but he figured he could at least manage subtlety.

Apparently not.

Hermione had fixed him with a long, unimpressed stare one afternoon in the common room and said, very slowly, “Harry. You follow every word she says like a lap dog. You are not fooling anyone.”

He’d nearly choked on his tea.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Ron had snorted. Hermione had rolled her eyes.

The worst part?

They were right.

Everyone had noticed.

Everyone—except you.

So Harry tried something different.

He stopped hiding.

He started calling group outings with Ron and Hermione “double dates,” saying it lightly, casually, as if it were a joke—but watching you carefully for any sign of understanding.

There was none.

He’d draped his arm around your shoulders whenever you sat beside him, heart hammering as you leaned into him without hesitation.

You’d only smiled and continued talking, completely unfazed.

Last Valentine’s Day, he’d even gathered the courage to give you a card.

Not anonymous. Not vague.

A proper Valentine.

You’d stared at it for a moment, eyes wide and soft, and then you’d hugged him tightly.

“That’s so sweet of you, Harry,” you’d said. “You didn’t want me to feel left out.”

He’d felt something in his chest cave in so suddenly he’d almost wondered if it would show on his face.

That was the day he’d given up.

You clearly weren’t interested. You clearly didn’t see him that way. Because surely—surely—no one could be that blind. Not you. Not the person who noticed everything.

And yet.

He still didn’t tell you.

He couldn’t.

Because losing you altogether was not an option.

He could survive loving you quietly. He could survive pretending. He could survive swallowing it down every time you curled into his side or stole his jumpers or whispered that he was your safe place.

But he could not survive you walking away.

That would undo him in ways even Voldemort never had.

So he chose silence.

He chose the quiet torture of it.

And he told himself that it was enough.

It had to be.

But Merlin—

You made it painfully, excruciatingly difficult.

It was one of those mornings where his uniform just didn’t want to listen. Harry had barely managed to get dressed. His shirt was wrinkled and stubbornly refusing to stay tucked into his pants, and his tie… well, his tie was acting like it had a mind of its own. No matter how many times he twisted and adjusted it, it refused to sit flat.

Part of him wanted to leave it in his dorm and run late, but he’d already lost two points for Gryffindor yesterday—leaving his robes behind because he was far too warm—and he’d be damned if he lost more, not when Slytherin was creeping up.

So instead, he kept undoing and redoing the insipid tie, the knot now looking like a wriggling little snake.

“Oh, this is driving me crazy.” You said, stepping up to him like you did any other day, batting his hands away from the tie.

Before he could respond, you were behind him, hands on his shoulders, fingers brushing the collar of his shirt. He froze.

“Stay still, Haz.” You reached around him, adjusting the knot with the precision of someone who had done it a hundred times before. Your fingers lingered at his throat, and Harry’s stomach decided to stop functioning altogether.

He watched your soft hands, then flicked his gaze to your face, keeping his breath shallow. He dared not move too much; one accidental graze of your hand on his chest and he was certain he would faint.

“There we go,” You said happily, smoothing down his shirt, “Now you won’t lose us points for being a slob.”

There was a moment of quiet after you stepped back. Harry adjusted his glasses nervously, feeling the faint ghost of where your fingers had been. He tried to focus on the tie, but all he could think about was how effortlessly close you’d been, how natural it had felt for you to reach around him, and how his heart was hammering in his chest for no reason he could explain.

Harry wanted to argue that he was not a slob—he was a fool. A fool for you. But all that came out was a breathless, “Thanks.”

You shrugged, smiling faintly. “Anytime.” And with that, you were gone, leaving Harry standing in the common room, sparks crawling down his body from where your hands had pressed against his shoulders.

It started with a bang.

Not a catastrophic one—not the sort that sent stone crumbling or Death Eaters Apparating—but the unmistakable crack of a spell gone wrong, followed by the shrill screech of something that definitely should not have been screeching at two in the morning.

Harry was upright in bed before he was fully conscious.

“What—?” Ron mumbled from across the dormitory, hair sticking up even worse than usual.

The corridor outside erupted into noise. Doors opening. Voices overlapping. Someone shouting, “Seamus, I swear—”

Harry shoved on a pair of joggers and grabbed his glasses just as the portrait hole burst open downstairs and Professor McGonagall’s voice rang up the staircase.

“All students are to gather in the common room immediately!”

Brilliant.

Within minutes, the tower was chaos—students stumbling down in mismatched pajamas, half-awake and grumbling. Ron looked like he might fall asleep standing up. Dean was laughing. Seamus looked guilty.

Harry was scanning the staircase.

Hermione clambered down, hair in messy braids, Crookshanks tucked into her arms.

And then you appeared.

Sleepy. Disoriented. Rubbing at your eyes.

And—

Wearing his Quidditch jersey.

It swallowed you whole.

The hem brushed dangerously high against your thighs, revealing a pair of barely-there shorts beneath. One shoulder of the jersey slipped lower than the other, the collar stretched from wear. Your hair was a mess, curling around your face, and you looked so soft and warm and real that for a second Harry forgot how to breathe.

You padded over to him barefoot, squinting blearily as you offered him a sleepy smile, and he felt butterflies slam their insistent wings against his diaphragm. No one should look this beautiful straight after waking up.

Heat crawled up his neck.

“I—” He cleared his throat, trying very hard not to look at your legs. Or the way the fabric clung to you, “I don’t remember giving you that.”

You blinked at him, still half-asleep.

“Oh. Yeah,” You said casually, glancing down at yourself as though you’d forgotten what you were wearing, “I think I stole it, like… a year ago or something. It’s my favourite sleep shirt.”

You yawned.

Actually yawned.

As if you hadn’t just detonated something inside his ribcage.

Harry wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

But you didn’t notice.

You shuffled closer without thinking—because you always did—and leaned lightly into his side, your head brushing his shoulder as you crossed your arms against the chill of the stone floor.

It was instinctive.

Unthinking.

Comfort.

His entire body went rigid for half a second before he forced himself to relax.

For one reckless, dangerous second, something warm and foolish bloomed in his chest.

You fit far too perfectly there.

It was hard to believe you weren’t meant to be.

His arm twitched at his side, resisting the urge to wrap around you. To make the picture complete.

Instead, he swallowed.

“You could’ve asked.” He muttered.

You smiled without opening your eyes.

“Like you would’ve said no.”

His gaze drifted down before he could stop himself—the oversized jersey, the way it brushed your thighs, the faint outline of his old Quidditch number pressed against your chest.

His.

And yet not.

You tugged absently at the hem, “Don’t worry. I’ll give it back one day.”

He forced a shrug, “Keep it.”

You hummed contentedly and leaned into him more fully, completely unaware of the war waging inside his skull.

McGonagall was still lecturing Seamus about reckless spellwork. Students whispered. The common room buzzed with irritation and half-suppressed laughter.

Eventually, detentions were handed out and it was declared safe to return to bed. One by one, people began climbing the stairs again.

You murmured a sleepy goodnight and pressed a brief kiss to his cheek before heading up.

Harry watched your retreating figure.

And the name stretched across your back.

Potter.

Something in his chest clenched painfully.

This—this was it.

As close as he would ever get.

The only way he would ever see you with his last name.

On the back of an old, worn jersey.

Harry had been wandering the castle corridors with a tray in his hands—two steaming mugs of tea and a small plate of treacle tart he’d grabbed from the kitchens—because honestly, you looked completely drained, buried under a mountain of books in the library, and he couldn’t just leave you like that.

“Here,” He said softly, setting the tray beside you, “Thought you might need… something.”

You looked up from your notes, hair tumbling across your face, eyes half-lidded with focus. “Haz,” You murmured, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips, “You’re a lifesaver.”

Harry felt his chest warm at the soft praise, giving a small, almost embarrassed shrug, “Well… someone had to. You’ve been at this for hours.”

You took a careful sip from your tea, and your eyes flickered up at him, almost surprised. “Exactly how I like it,” You murmured, setting the mug down with a satisfied hum. You leaned back, stretching languidly, hair falling messily over your shoulders, and reached for a tart, “Honestly, you’re amazing, you know that?”

Harry blinked, trying to keep his composure. “The flies are starting to gather here because they think you’re a corpse, you know.” He teased lightly, but the truth was harder to hide. Even like this—bare-faced, hair tousled from running your hands through it constantly, lips soft and slightly bitten—you looked gorgeous. Effortless. Bright. Dangerous in a way that made his chest tighten.

He tried to act casual, sitting on the edge of the table, but his mind refused to cooperate. Every movement you made, every tilt of your head, every lazy stretch—it all pulled his attention like gravity.

Then, as if the universe were deliberately cruel, you looked straight at him. Your eyes softened, warm and unguarded, and you spoke like you weren’t even thinking about the weight of your words.

“You know,” You said casually, almost absentmindedly, “anyone who ends up with you is going to be really lucky.”

Harry froze. His stomach dropped.

“Haz?” You blinked, tilting your head slightly, noticing his silence, “Are you even listening?”

“I… yeah.” He croaked. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to throw the treacle tart at the wall. He wanted—he wanted everything that was impossible.

You smiled softly, leaning back against the table, entirely casual, completely unaware of the storm you’d just unleashed. “You’re such a great friend, you know. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.”

Friend.

Harry’s chest tightened painfully, his throat constricting, a lump rising that refused to go down. Of course. Of course that’s how you saw him. All this praise, all this warmth… and none of it was for him in the way he longed for.

You can’t possibly say all this if you don’t have an idea, he thought bitterly. You must know… and you’re saying it anyway.

He remembered all the little ways he had shown he cared—ways no one else would notice. When Hermione had nearly ended up in the hospital wing while cramming for her OWLs, he had stayed behind in the dorm with you, drilling you with flashcards, quizzing you until your eyes drooped. You should have known that this wasn’t ordinary. That this was special treatment.

He swallowed hard, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Right. Yeah. Of course. You’re… right.”

You hummed, picking up your tea again, completely oblivious, eyes returning to your notes, leaving Harry sitting there, trembling slightly, heart racing and shattering all at once.

As soon as February first hit, Valentine’s Day decorations began infecting the castle like a rash—pink banners strung across archways, enchanted cherubs flitting through corridors with tiny golden bows, heart-shaped confetti drifting lazily from the ceiling.

Harry had never thought he’d hate the color red.

But here he was, absolutely detesting the sight of the red paper hearts hanging from every doorframe in Gryffindor Tower.

He should’ve told that blasted Hat to sort him into Slytherin.

At least then the common room wouldn’t look like it had been violently attacked by romance.

He was sitting in an armchair, pretending to read, when Ron dropped heavily into the seat across from him. Seamus sprawled on the sofa, hands tucked behind his head.

“So,” Seamus began casually, like he was commenting on the weather, “Valentine’s Day coming up.”

Harry didn’t look up from his book, “Fascinating.”

Dean snorted, “You finally going to confess your undying love this year, or are we continuing the proud annual tradition of pining in silence?”

Harry’s head snapped up, “Sod off.”

Ron grinned wickedly, “Oh, come on, mate. We’ve got bets going.”

“You have bets?” Harry demanded.

“Yeah,” Dean said, nodding seriously, “Whether you’ll confess, or just stare at her like she’s the last slice of treacle tart on earth.”

Ron shrugged, “My money’s on the staring.”

Harry threw his book down, “I do not—”

“You absolutely do,” Seamus cut in, “Every time she laughs, you look like someone’s cast a Patronus straight into your ribcage.”

Harry opened his mouth to argue.

And then closed it again.

Ron leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “So? You gonna tell her?”

Harry hesitated.

Just for a second.

Because part of him wanted to.

Merlin, he wanted to.

The thought had been clawing at him ever since that afternoon in the library.

He wanted to drop to his knees. To tell you he loved you and always would. That he would do whatever it took to make you feel like the most special girl in the entire world. That he would adore you until the end of time if you let him.

No one else would ever love you the way he was willing to.

With every single fiber of his being.

With a kind of devotion so limitless, so boundless, so unconditional that it scared even him to recognize it. The kind that made him feel like every cell in his body would willingly come apart if you asked him to.

And then—

Dean laughed lightly, “She probably wouldn’t even realize, to be honest.”

That one landed wrong.

A sharp, painful twinge in his chest that seemed to connect to his stomach, to the tips of his fingers, to his jaw.

Ron nodded, “Yeah. You could get down on one knee and she’d just go, ‘Haz, are you feeling alright?’”

The boys burst out laughing.

Harry didn’t.

Because that was the worst part.

They weren’t wrong.

His jaw tightened.

Ron tilted his head, studying him now instead of teasing, “You ever think maybe she doesn’t know because you let her not know?”

Harry’s stomach twisted.

“That doesn’t even make sense.” He muttered.

“It does,” Ron said, quieter now, “You do everything for her. You look at her like she hung the moon. But you never say it. So she doesn’t have to face it.”

Dean leaned back, voice softer than before, “Or maybe she does know. And she’s pretending.”

That one felt like a punch to the ribs.

So hard he felt his breakfast crawl up his throat.

Harry stood abruptly, “You’re all mental.”

“Just saying!” Seamus called as Harry headed toward the stairs, “Valentine’s Day’s a good excuse!”

“Yeah,” Ron added, “Worst she can say is no.”

Harry paused at the bottom step.

He didn’t turn around.

Worst she can say is no.

But that wasn’t what terrified him.

What terrified him was the moment you’d realize how deep his feelings actually ran.

Because you—kindhearted, careful, endlessly thoughtful you—would pull back.

You’d grow cautious.

You’d stop sitting so close. Stop stealing his scarves. Stop crawling into his bed when you couldn’t sleep.

You’d feel guilty for ever letting it look like he had a chance.

And he would lose you.

Not just the possibility of you.

You.

His best friend.

The girl he had loved quietly for longer than he dared admit.

And that—

That was a risk he wasn’t sure he could survive.

The knock on Harry’s dormitory door was soft.

Too soft for this hour.

He looked up from where he was sitting on his bed, glasses slipping halfway down his nose, “Yeah?”

The door creaked open, and you slipped inside, already in your sleep clothes, glancing at him to make sure he was awake. When your eyes met his, your shoulders relaxed, and you stepped fully into the room.

“Hi.” You said quietly.

Harry’s stomach dropped at once, “What happened?”

You sighed, shutting the door behind you. “Ron and Hermione had a row. It started over something stupid and turned into something not stupid. They’re both pacing like caged animals, and I figured…” You shrugged, “They might need space.”

Harry nodded slowly. That made sense.

“And?” He asked gently.

“So I was wondering if… if it’s okay if I sleep here tonight.” It sounded like courtesy more than a real question—you were already walking toward the bed, looking tired and small in a way that made it impossible to say no.

His heart skipped.

“Course,” He said instead, softer now, “You know you don’t have to ask.”

Your shoulders relaxed immediately. “Thanks, Haz.”

You climbed into his bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world, lifting the blankets and sliding beneath them.

The air shifted.

This wasn’t new. You’d done it before—after nightmares, after late-night talks that blurred into sleep, after studying until your eyes burned.

It wasn’t new.

But something about tonight felt different.

Harry swallowed.

For the first time, the thought flickered through his mind before he could stop it—

Why not Ron’s bed?

Why here? Why were you so comfortable beside him that you didn’t even hesitate, didn’t even consider the empty bed across the room that would stay empty all night if history had anything to say about it?

The question burned at the back of his tongue.

But he bit it down, watching as you settled into his pillow, getting comfortable. He lay down more slowly, painfully aware of every inch of space between you, of the warmth your body gave off in the cool room.

The dormitory was quiet except for the distant whisper of wind against the windows.

You turned onto your side, facing him, “Night, Haz.”

“Good night.” He said quickly.

You hummed softly in response, already drifting off.

It took less than five minutes.

Your breathing evened out. Your body went slack with sleep. One of your hands shifted unconsciously, brushing his shirt before coming to rest there.

Like it belonged.

Harry stared up at the ceiling.

Wide awake.

Every nerve in his body felt lit. He could feel the warmth of you beside him, the steady rhythm of your breathing, the faint scent of your shampoo clinging to his pillow.

You were so close.

So close he could have counted your eyelashes if he’d turned his head.

And you slept.

Just like that.

No tension. No hesitation. No awareness of what this might mean.

Because to you, it didn’t mean anything.

That was what hurt.

You could fall asleep beside him without a second thought, while he lay rigid, afraid to breathe too deeply in case he woke you, afraid that if he didn’t move at all he’d never make it through the night.

He wanted to wrap an arm around you.

He wanted to pull you closer.

He wanted to know what it would feel like to hold you properly, to fit against you the way his body seemed to insist it was meant to. To bury his face in your hair. To memorize the shape of you by heart.

He wanted to ask why him.

Why always him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he stayed perfectly still, staring into the dark, listening to the soft sound of your breathing.

That should have been enough.

But as the minutes dragged on and sleep refused to come, a cruel thought crept in—

If you knew.

If you knew how badly he wanted you…

Would you still sleep this easily?

Would you still crawl into his bed without thinking twice?

His throat tightened.

Beside him, you shifted closer in your sleep, your forehead brushing faintly against his shoulder.

And Harry finally closed his eyes.

Not because he was calm.

But because it was easier than letting himself cry.

Harry didn’t remember falling asleep.

If he had at all.

Grey morning light filtered through the curtains, pale and cold, painting soft lines across the dormitory ceiling. For a few seconds, he didn’t move.

Then he became aware of the weight against his chest.

You.

Your back was pressed to his front, your body curled slightly toward him as if you’d shifted in your sleep without thinking. Your hair brushed his chin with every breath. One of his arms was trapped beneath the pillow; the other had somehow slipped around the dip of your waist, pinning you to him.

He released you at once.

And your hips—Merlin help him—were pressed far too close.

He froze, blood rushing from his face and so far south he felt dizzy as his heart began to pound like he’d just finished a Quidditch match. He stared at the wall, terrified that if he moved even an inch, you’d wake up and realise how close you were.

But you didn’t.

You only shifted, nestling back into him, completely unconcerned.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut.

Of course you don’t notice, he thought bitterly. Why would you?

A moment later, you stirred properly. You stretched, arms reaching forward, back arching slightly—still pressed against him.

“Mmm… morning.” You murmured.

Harry swallowed, “Morning.”

You didn’t jump away. You didn’t gasp. You didn’t even hesitate.

You just rolled onto your back and rubbed your eyes.

“Thanks for letting me sleep here.” You said easily.

He forced a laugh that didn’t sound right even to himself, “Yeah. No problem.”

You propped yourself up on one elbow, perfectly at ease, as though you hadn’t been curled into him moments ago.

It hit him then, sharp and humiliating.

You weren’t embarrassed because, to you, there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

You saw him as safe. Familiar. Harmless.

Not someone whose chest was still tight from the way you’d fit against him. Not someone who’d lain awake for hours listening to you breathe. Not someone who had imagined—stupidly, foolishly—that maybe this meant something more.

You slid out of bed and tugged on his jumper from where it lay across his trunk, “I’m starving. Want to go down to breakfast?”

“Yeah.” He said automatically.

There it was again.

That warm, affectionate smile.

And then you were gone.

The door clicked shut behind you.

Harry stayed where he was, staring at the empty space you’d left behind. The bed was still warm. Your pillow still indented.

He pressed his palm into the sheets where you’d been.

You could curl into him in the middle of the night and wake up tangled in his arms.

And it still didn’t mean what he wanted it to mean.

He fell back against the mattress and covered his eyes with his arm.

Valentine’s Day was a week away.

And he was running out of ways to survive this.

It started with the heat.

Not the warm kind he’d grown used to. Not the soft, almost pleasant flutter that came when you laughed too hard at something stupid he’d said. Not the quiet nerves that lit up under his skin when you linked your arm through his.

This was different.

This felt like something crawling up his spine and settling at the base of his skull.

You were walking beside him after Charms, talking animatedly about something Flitwick had said. Your hands moved when you spoke, brushing his sleeve, tapping lightly against his arm.

Usually he loved that. Usually he leaned into it.

Today, every touch felt like friction.

He nodded along, not really hearing you. The corridor felt too narrow. Too loud. Too bright.

You bumped his shoulder playfully, “Are you even listening?”

“Yeah.” He muttered.

He wasn’t.

He was watching the way your fingers lingered on his sleeve a second too long before dropping away. Watching the way you smiled up at him without hesitation, without thought.

You didn’t think about it.

You never thought about it.

By lunch, it had gotten worse.

The heat had spread — up his neck, across his cheeks. He could feel it burning there. He kept tugging at the collar of his shirt like he could air himself out.

Across the Great Hall, you were laughing with some boy from Hufflepuff. Leaning toward him. Head tilted.

Harry told himself it didn’t matter.

You laughed like that with everyone.

But something about today — something about the way the morning had felt, about the way you’d curled into him two nights ago and slept like you belonged there — made it twist wrong.

You sat across from him, smiling over your pumpkin juice, “You okay, Haz? You’re quiet.”

“I’m fine.” He said too quickly.

You tilted your head, “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

You didn’t push. You never did.

And that made it worse.

Because you trusted him to be honest. You trusted him to be steady. You trusted him to always be there without ever asking why he was there.

The frog in the pot, he thought bitterly. The water heating so slowly he hadn’t realized he was being boiled alive.

By the time you reached the staircase after classes, his nerves were shot raw.

You bumped his arm playfully, “You’re walking like you’re being marched to your execution.”

“Can you—” He started, then stopped himself, “Never mind.”

You blinked, “What?”

“Nothing.”

He took the stairs two at a time.

You followed.

“Harry.”

He didn’t answer.

“Harry, wait.”

He turned at the landing, irritation flashing in his eyes. “What?”

You stopped short. “What’s wrong with you today?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’ve barely looked at me all day.”

“Maybe I just don’t feel like talking.”

Your face fell slightly. “Did I do something?”

That question hit him like a jab to the ribs.

“No,” he said, harsher than he meant. “It’s not about you.”

“Then what is it about?”

He opened his mouth.

Closed it.

He walked away.

But you didn’t let him.

You followed him up the staircase, your steps quickening to match his longer strides. He was climbing like something was chasing him — like if he didn’t put enough distance between the two of you, he might actually combust.

By the time he reached his dormitory, his chest was heaving — not from exertion, but from the pressure building behind his ribs. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

You followed.

Now it was just the two of you.

The room felt smaller than usual. The late afternoon light slanted through the windows, dust drifting lazily in the air, completely unaware that something catastrophic was about to happen.

You shut the door gently behind you.

“If there’s something you want to tell me,” You said, trying to steady your voice, “just go ahead and say it, Harry.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.”

He stared at everything else in the room but you.

At his trunk. At Ron’s unmade bed. At the crack in the stone wall. Anywhere but your face.

He wasn’t sure if he was avoiding your gaze because he couldn’t bear to see the hurt there — the kind that would extinguish the flames raging in his chest.

Or because looking at you would only pour oil over them.

You hesitated.

Then you reached for his hand.

The contact was gentle. Familiar.

It felt like static shock.

Like a spark struck from flint. Like something small and bright landing in a room full of gasoline fumes.

His entire body reacted before his mind did.

He jerked away.

“Just—stop it.”

Your hand froze midair.

“What?”

“Stop touching me like that,” He snapped, “Stop acting like everything’s normal.”

Your brows pulled together, “Harry, I don’t—”

“That’s the problem,” he said, abruptly, raking his hands through his already messy hair, “You don’t.”

You stood too, confused, hurt beginning to bleed into your expression, “Don’t what?”

“You don’t think. You don’t notice. You just… do things. You hold my hand, you take my jumpers, you sleep in my bed like it’s nothing—”

Your breath caught, “We’ve always—”

“Yes,” He said sharply, “Exactly. You’ve always done it. And I’ve always let you.”

“Why are you acting like it’s a bad thing?”

“Because you don’t see how it’s killing me!”

The words ripped out of him before he could stop them.

They echoed in the quiet room.

You stared at him.

“What are you talking about?” You whispered.

He let out a hollow laugh that didn’t hold even a trace of humor, “You really don’t know.”

“Know what?”

He dragged a hand through his hair again, pacing now, restless and unraveling. The heat in his chest felt unbearable — like something burning through muscle and bone.

“I thought I could handle it,” He said, “I thought I could just… be whatever you needed. Your safe place. Your spare bed. Your extra person.”

His voice wavered, but he pushed through.

“I thought I could ignore the heat. The nerves. The way my stomach drops every time you look at someone else. I thought I could handle wanting you when there’s no possible future where you want me back.”

His throat tightened.

“But I was wrong.”

You stepped toward him, instinctively, “Harry—”

“No,” He said softly, “Let me say it.”

And finally — finally — he looked at you.

Really looked at you.

“I love you.”

Silence swallowed the room.

“I’ve been in love with you for so long,” He continued, voice shaking now, “that I can’t remember a time I didn’t feel like this. When I’m around you, I can’t think straight. It’s like everything else blurs out. Like I’ve gone blind to the world except for you.”

His hands trembled at his sides.

“And for a while… that was okay. I didn’t want to see anything else. I was perfectly content only looking at you."

His laugh was brittle.

“But it’s not easy, (Y/N). It’s not easy just hoping. Just waiting. Yearning for every single touch like it’s a gift. Taking whatever scraps of affection you hand me and pretending it’s enough.”

His voice cracked.

“I feel like a stray dog sometimes. Grateful for any little piece of love you throw my way.”

Your eyes filled with something as your throat began to ache.

“And I can’t keep pretending it’s not killing me,” He said, quieter now, but more raw than before, “I can’t keep smiling through it. I can’t keep acting like I’m not falling apart every time you don’t see me the way I see you.”

His eyes locked onto yours.

“You’re my everything,” He whispered, “But I’m just one of your things.”

The words nearly undid him.

“And that’s all I’ll ever be to you.”

The room felt too still.

Too tight.

He stood there, stripped bare, like he’d finally set down something he’d been carrying for years and didn’t know how to stand without it.

The heat in his chest wasn’t a flutter anymore.

It was a burn.

And it hurt.

Harry didn’t raise his voice when he told you to leave.

That might have been easier to bear.

He didn’t shout. Didn’t slam the door. Didn’t say anything cruel.

He just looked at you with that exhausted, hollow expression — like he had finally emptied himself of something he’d been carrying for years and didn’t have the strength to hold anything else.

“I think you should go.” He said quietly.

Not angry.

Not cold.

Just… spent.

For a moment, you stayed where you were. Your body refused to move, as if waiting for him to soften. To sigh and rake a hand through his hair and say he didn’t mean it. To reach for you like he always did when things felt wrong.

He didn’t.

He stepped back instead.

And that — that was what made your chest crack open.

You left without another word.

The corridor outside his dormitory felt longer than usual. The torches along the walls flickered gently, unaware that the world inside you had tilted off its axis. Students passed you on the stairs, laughing, arguing, whispering about homework and Quidditch and weekend plans.

Everything sounded distant. Muffled.

You couldn’t quite feel your feet touching the stone as you walked.

By the time you reached your own dormitory, your hands were trembling.

The room was empty when you entered. The late afternoon light filtered through the tall windows, soft and golden, dust drifting lazily in the air.

You shut the door behind you and leaned back against it, staring at the opposite wall.

Your heart was still racing.

Harry’s words hadn’t simply echoed — they had embedded themselves somewhere deep inside you, reverberating in slow, relentless waves. Every time you tried to steady your breathing, to anchor yourself in something solid and familiar, his voice would surface again.

I’m in love with you.

The way it had cracked in the middle. The way it sounded less like a confession and more like a wound finally tearing open.

You could still see him — pacing like a caged animal, hands dragging through his hair, shoulders tight with years of something he’d never let himself say. You had memorized his mannerisms over time. The subtle twitch in his jaw when he was frustrated. The way his fingers flexed when he was holding something back. The restless energy that clung to him whenever he didn’t know what to do with his emotions.

You’d thought you knew him.

But tonight had been different.

Tonight he had looked raw.

You pushed yourself away from the door slowly, your back peeling from the cool wood. Your nose burned from the effort of not crying, and when you blinked, the tears spilled over anyway. You didn’t trust your legs to carry you very far, but somehow you made it to your bed before your composure gave way entirely. You sank down onto the mattress and bent forward, pressing your face into the nearest pillow as though you could smother the sound of your own thoughts.

The confession replayed again.

And again.

And then—

You inhaled.

And froze.

That wasn’t your pillow.

You lifted your head, blinking through the blur, and realized your fingers were fisted in black fabric.

Harry’s jumper.

Slightly oversized on you. Sleeves too long. The collar stretched just enough from where you’d tugged it absently while studying.

You hadn’t meant to keep it.

It had been one of those cold nights in the library when the wind rattled the windows and the castle felt more like stone than shelter. You’d shivered once — just once — and he’d noticed. Of course he had.

He’d shrugged it off his shoulders without hesitation, draping it over yours with that casual sort of gentleness that was so uniquely him.

Keep it as long as you want, he’d said.

You never gave it back.

Your throat tightened painfully.

Would you have to return it now?

The thought felt unbearable.

You sat up slowly, the jumper clutched to your chest, your gaze drifting around your dorm room as if you were seeing it for the first time.

Your eyes landed on your nightstand.

The half-open chocolate orange from Honeydukes — the one he’d brought back after noticing you’d been chewing your quill during exam week. He hadn’t made a big deal of it. Just dropped it beside you and muttered something about you needing proper sugar instead of ink.

Next to it, a folded scrap of parchment in his messy handwriting. Practice questions he’d written out to quiz you before Transfiguration. You’d teased him for highlighting almost every sentence.

A tiny golden snitch keychain rested beside your wand. He’d pressed it into your palm in Hogsmeade last winter, cheeks pink from the cold.

Reminded me of you, he’d said, eyes refusing to meet yours.

You’d laughed.

You hadn’t asked why.

It was everywhere.

He was everywhere.

Not in grand, sweeping gestures.

Not in dramatic declarations.

But in the quiet, steady way he had slipped into the empty spaces of your life and made himself at home there.

Your gaze lifted to the moving photographs above your bed.

There were dozens.

Most of them were group pictures—laughing, chaotic, alive. But your gaze snagged on the one from Christmas morning last year. You were mid-laugh, half-hidden by torn wrapping paper. Harry stood beside you, watching.

Not the gift.

You.

At the time, you had thought his smile was simple excitement, pride in having chosen well. Now, with the knowledge of his confession lodged painfully in your chest, you saw something else layered beneath it—something softer, something unguarded. A kind of careful devotion that made your eyes sting all over again.

Now you could see the way his expression softened at the edges. The way his eyes lingered, unguarded. Earnest.

Longing.

How many times had he looked at you like that while you were too busy looking somewhere else?

Your vision blurred again.

You slid off the bed and crouched by your trunk at the foot of it, fingers trembling as you rummaged through folded clothes and books until you reached the small wooden box at the bottom — the one you kept tucked away for things that felt too important to leave out in the open.

You brought it back to the bed and opened it slowly.

Inside were ticket stubs from Hogsmeade weekends. A pressed flower from the lake shore. A few scraps of parchment with inside jokes scribbled in ink.

And then—

You found it.

A modest piece of white cardstock, slightly bent at the corner.

Your favorite flowers charmed along the edges, frozen mid-bloom.

Be my Valentine?

The memory hit you all at once.

A sob broke free before you could stop it, the sound raw in the quiet room. You pressed your hand to your mouth, but it did little to steady you. You hadn’t meant to hurt him. You hadn’t even realized there was something fragile to protect.

But now that he had spoken the truth aloud, your memories rearranged themselves with startling clarity. The way his jaw would tighten when you laughed too brightly at someone else. The subtle shift in his expression whenever another boy lingered too long in conversation. The way his hugs always lasted a fraction of a second longer than necessary, as if he were memorizing the feeling.

You had seen the signs.

Some quiet part of you had always known.

It’s been like this for years.

Sneaking down to the kitchens together. Late-night study sessions that dissolve into whispered confessions about fears neither of you would tell anyone else. Sitting shoulder to shoulder at Quidditch matches, your knee pressed against his because neither of you ever moves away.

You always thought it was just that.

You and him. Best friends. A matched set.

Your chest tightens painfully.

The realization did not strike like lightning. It did not feel dramatic or explosive. Instead, it settled slowly into place, like something ancient and inevitable finally aligning inside you. You tried, for a moment, to imagine your life without him woven into it so seamlessly—the absence of his steady presence beside you in the Great Hall, the lack of his quiet warmth at your side during long nights, the empty space where his voice should be.

The thought hollowed you out in a way guilt never could.

This wasn’t simply remorse for hurting him.

It was grief at the idea of losing something you hadn’t realized you wanted.

You drew his jumper back into your arms and pressed it against your chest, breathing in the familiar scent as your tears slowed into something softer, more certain.

You loved him.

Somewhere along the way, your heart had chosen him quietly and without ceremony.

And now that you finally understood it, the only thing more terrifying than admitting it was the possibility that you had realized too late.

You hadn’t meant for it to stretch into days.

At first, it was only supposed to be a night. One evening to let the shock settle. To let his words stop echoing quite so violently in your chest. But the more you turned them over in your mind, the more you realized you couldn’t simply run back to him with something half-formed and call it love.

You needed to know.

You needed to be certain that what you were feeling wasn’t guilt twisting itself into something softer. That it wasn’t fear of losing him masquerading as devotion. That you weren’t just trying to patch the wound he’d opened with whatever words would make it stop bleeding.

So you kept your distance.

And it seemed Harry had no problem respecting that unspoken boundary.

He avoided you with a precision that would have been impressive if it hadn’t hurt so much.

He left the Great Hall early. Sat at the opposite end of the Gryffindor table, shoulders angled deliberately away from you. Took longer routes between classes, choosing staircases that added minutes to his walk if it meant not crossing yours. When you entered a room, he found a reason to leave it. When you tried to catch his eye, he found something intensely fascinating to study just over your shoulder.

It wasn’t cruel.

That was the worst part.

He wasn’t punishing you.

He was protecting himself.

Careful not to brush against you in passing. Careful not to linger too close in crowded corridors. Careful with his voice, as though speaking to you too long might crack something open again that he’d only just managed to stitch shut.

You caught him watching you once—only once—during Charms. Professor Flitwick had turned to the board, and for a fleeting second, Harry’s guard slipped. His gaze found you with an intensity that stole the breath from your lungs.

There was no bitterness there. It wasn’t resentment.

It was restraint.

And that made your chest ache in ways you hadn’t expected.

By the time Valentine’s Day arrived, the castle was absolutely drenched in pink and glitter from the highest spires to the stone floors below. The enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall shimmered a soft rose-gold, petals drifting lazily down from an illusion of endless sky. Pink ribbons curled around every banister. The air smelled overwhelmingly of roses and sugar and something sparklingly artificial.

Harry hated it.

He sat rigidly through breakfast, jaw tight as the owls descended in a flurry of wings and parchment. Bouquets, boxes of chocolates, glittering gift bags—packages thumped down across the tables in rapid succession. Laughter erupted every few seconds as someone unwrapped something elaborate or embarrassing.

It was almost comical that Valentine’s Day had fallen on a Hogsmeade weekend this year.

A miracle.

Or some divine joke at his expense—Harry hadn’t quite decided which.

Dean presented Ginny with her bouquet in person, attempting nonchalance and failing spectacularly. Ron, flustered and pink-eared, kept checking his reflection in the back of a spoon before bolting off to meet Hermione. Even Seamus—Godric, even Seamus—had a date and left with an air of nervous triumph.

One by one, his roommates disappeared, pulled eagerly toward waiting hands and planned afternoons.

Harry remained behind.

He told himself he didn’t care.

He’d endured far worse than a holiday built on pink paper hearts and saccharine declarations.

But something about the exaggerated romance of it all scraped at him today. The floating hearts. The couples walking just a little closer than usual, fingers intertwined as if they were guarding something precious. It pressed against the hollow space in his chest and made it ache more sharply than he’d anticipated.

Stupid, really.

He was the one who had confessed. He was the one who had drawn the line. The one who had told you to leave.

And yet he hadn’t realized just how much it would hurt—not only to spend Valentine’s Day alone—but to spend it carrying the quiet understanding that whatever you had been before could never quite be the same again.

He pushed back from the table abruptly, appetite long gone, and made his way up to Gryffindor Tower. The corridors were noticeably quieter now, most students already filtering toward Hogsmeade or secluded corners of the castle.

The Fat Lady gave him a knowing smile as he muttered the password.

He didn’t return it.

By the time he reached his dormitory, exhaustion weighed heavy behind his eyes. He was fully prepared to throw his bag aside and collapse face-first into his mattress, to sleep the day away and wake up when the castle had returned to normal.

He pushed the door open.

And froze.

The room was dimmer than usual, bathed in the steady glow of candlelight. Flames flickered softly along the mantle and windowsills, casting warm gold across the stone walls. The usual clutter—Quidditch gear, discarded socks, scattered parchment—had been tidied away.

And there you were.

Hands clasped tightly around a small arrangement of flowers, as though you weren’t entirely sure what to do with them. Your shoulders were drawn back in visible determination, but your expression wavered somewhere between courage and terror.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Harry’s first instinct was disbelief.

His second was fear.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said automatically, though the words lacked any real sharpness.

“I know,” You replied softly, “But I had something important I needed to ask you.”

His gaze flicked around the room again, as if confirming that this wasn’t some elaborate trick of exhaustion. The candles. The cleared space. The deliberate care in every detail.

“What is this?” He asked, his voice quieter now.

You swallowed, then stepped forward carefully—like you were approaching something skittish, something that might bolt at the wrong movement.

“You gave me a Valentine last year,” You said, the slightest tremor betraying you, “I thought I might return the favour.”

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes but it was swallowed almost immediately by something harder.

He let out a short, humorless breath, dragging a hand down his face, “Do you realize how cruel you’re being?”

The words hit you square in the chest.

“Harry, I—” You stopped yourself, forcing in a steadying breath, “I came to a couple of… epiphanies since we last spoke.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t interrupt you either.

You took another breath, slower this time, willing your thoughts to line up properly instead of scattering the way they had been all morning. Harry watched you closely, and you could tell he was fighting the instinct to step in, to calm you the way he always did when you spiraled. He knew the signs—the way your fingers twisted together, the way your gaze drifted when you were trying to find the right words.

He let you have the silence.

“I’m sorry.”

The words were small when they finally left you.

And he felt his stomach drop.

There it was, he thought. The careful tone. The softness. The prelude to rejection dressed up as kindness. He’d imagined this exact moment in the worst hours of the night—imagined you standing in front of him with pity in your eyes, explaining gently why you couldn’t give him what he wanted.

His shoulders went rigid without him meaning to. Something inside him began quietly folding in on itself.

“I’m sorry for taking so much time to think about this,” You continued, your voice trembling but determined, “And I’m sorry that you’ve felt this way for—God knows how long—and I was so blind to it. I’m sorry for keeping you at arm’s length and dangling something you wanted in front of you for so long. God, I can’t even imagine how that must have felt, because I’ve only just come to this realization a couple days ago and not being able to be around you has been killing me, and I’m such a terrible—”

“(Y/N), hold on.”

He stepped forward suddenly, closing the space between you before he could think better of it, his hands coming up to gently but firmly wrap around your wrists. Not restraining—just grounding. Anchoring you before you could spiral yourself into something cruel and untrue.

You stopped mid-breath.

Your chest was heaving slightly, eyes bright with unshed tears, and for a second neither of you moved. You had forgotten what it felt like for him to touch you. The warmth of his hands. The steadiness of his grip. A small, frightened part of you had begun to wonder if he ever would again.

Harry swallowed.

He hadn’t expected you to look like this—wrecked and earnest and terrified in equal measure.

You opened your mouth, and he nodded his head faintly, urging you to keep going.

“I—” You drew in a steadier breath this time, “You’re my first thought when something happens. You’re the person I look for in every room. When I’m tired, I want you next to me. When I’m overwhelmed, I look for you without even realizing it. And I kept telling myself that was just friendship. That it was normal.”

Your lips curved faintly, sadly, “But I realized that no matter what label I tried to place on it, what I feel for you, Harry, is not just friendship.”

His grip tightened—barely, but enough that you felt it.

Harry’s breathing had gone noticeably slower. Measured. Like he was forcing himself not to interrupt, not to hope too quickly.

“You’re not just some sort of placeholder,” You continued, your voice steadier now, “Or a spare bed. Or my extra person. Or my safe place because you were convenient.”

The room seemed to still entirely.

The candles crackled softly. Somewhere outside, a burst of cheers rose and fell again, distant and irrelevant to the world shrinking down to just the two of you.

Harry stared at you as though you’d begun speaking in a language he desperately wanted to understand but was afraid to mistranslate.

“If it’s not you,” You said, your voice breaking slightly despite your effort to keep it steady, “then I don’t want anyone else.”

His heart thudded once—hard enough it almost hurt.

“If that’s what love is,” You whispered, blinking away the dampness gathering in your lashes, “then I suppose I’ve been in love with you for a while now.”

For a moment, he didn’t react at all.

It was as though the words had struck him somewhere too deep to process immediately.

You watched it happen—the disbelief first. The instinct to protect himself from false hope. His eyes searched your face desperately for hesitation, for guilt, for anything that might suggest this was born of obligation.

He didn’t find it.

Something in his expression changed then. Not dramatically. Not all at once. But the tightness around his mouth eased. The guarded set of his shoulders softened. His hands, still wrapped around your wrists, shifted—sliding down until he was holding your hands properly now.

Reverently.

“Say that again.” He murmured, his voice rougher than before.

You let out a shaky breath, “I love you.”

The words didn’t tremble this time.

They landed between you solid and undeniable.

Harry’s eyes closed for half a second, like he needed that brief darkness to steady himself. When they opened again, they were shining in a way you’d rarely seen—unguarded, almost overwhelmed.

“You have no idea,” He said quietly, almost helplessly, “how long I’ve wanted to hear that.”

There was no accusation in it. No bitterness.

Just awe.

Blinking quickly to keep your tears from spilling over, you lifted the bouquet again with trembling hands. The gesture felt suddenly very small compared to what had just been said, but it mattered to you.

“Harry,” You asked softly, your voice braver than you felt, “will you be my Valentine?”

For a heartbeat, he simply looked at you.

Like he was memorizing this version of you—the one standing in front of him choosing him openly.

His hands left yours only long enough to take the bouquet, setting it carefully aside on the nearest surface as though it were something fragile and precious.

Then he stepped forward.

Hesitantly.

Cautiously.

As though he were afraid that one wrong movement might shatter the moment entirely.

He lifted his hands and cupped your face, thumbs brushing gently beneath your eyes where tears still clung to your lashes. His heart was pounding so hard he was certain you must feel it. He had imagined touching you like this more times than he could count, never truly believing he would be allowed to. Some part of him still waited for the illusion to break, for him to wake up from this dream all alone.

But you were real.

Warm beneath his palms. Trembling slightly where your bodies hovered just short of touching.

The way you looked at him—earnest, anxious and filled with anticipation—anchored him in the moment more surely than anything else could have. If this was a dream, then he decided he would stay in it. He would cling to it as long as it let him have you.

The restraint he had lived with for years finally gave way.

He pulled you into him, not roughly, but with a fierce, aching tenderness, arms wrapping around you as though he feared you might disappear if he loosened his hold. His forehead brushed yours, breath unsteady, and then he kissed you.

It was soft at first. Almost uncertain.

But when your lips moved against his, fitting together like divine puzzle pieces, the rest of the world seemed to dissolve. The candles, the room, the noise of the castle beyond the walls—none of it mattered.

All that existed was the warmth of his hands, the steady press of his chest against yours, and the quiet realization that you were no longer standing on opposite sides of something unspoken.

You pressed closer to him, and he held you as though he had been waiting his whole life to do exactly that.

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You were the eldest child in your family and you were your siblings’ third parent, constantly ensuring that they followed your footsteps into the Elfhame Court. You made sure they were perfect for your parents.

Unlike you, Cardan was the youngest and got away with most things. The only thing he could never get away with was his own training with Balekin. Those were the days he would seek you out.

By the time you were considered of age, you and Cardan were on completely different paths of your lives. Every whisper between one another had faded with the night sky and small waves and winks from across the room disappeared.

It was like your friendship never existed in the first place.

“Eliana!” You exclaimed with an exasperated tone as your sister ran past you with her wooden sword. “We’re supposed to be practicing!”

“It feels like we’ve been doing this forever!” She complained and fell back onto the dewy grass, her hair splayed across the ground. “Shouldn’t it be Cyril’s turn?”

“When she says it’s my turn, it’s my turn.” He spoke from his spot on the tree root, picking at the wooden sword. “Besides, it would be Anastasia turn after yours.”

“I’m collecting berries for mother.” Anastasia corrected, hands wrapped around a woven basket. “You two need more practice than I do.”

“You know what? Everyone take a break.” You toss your own sword to the ground and straighten out your skirt, frowning at the dirt smudges on the end of fabric.

Anastasia, being the second eldest, slowly moved toward you as the younger siblings ran with one another. She looked over your face and saw the exhaustion slowly creeping in.

“Maybe you need a break too.” She said softly as you snapped your head up to her, fingers clasping around your necklace. “How long has it been since you’ve had proper time for yourself?”

You shrug, gaze shifting to your left to see the shape of a small home you once knew, front and back. “A while.”

She clicked her tongue, “You need to do something that doesn’t involve teaching Cy and Eli. More importantly, mother wants you married by the end of the cycle.”

Huffing, you twist your necklace in your fingers and look across the lake, staring blankly at the silhouette of a house you knew all too well. “It’s not like I have any time to speak to anyone with how often I stay on our grounds taking care of you lot.”

“Okay, you know, when you and Cardan were still friends, you were a whole lot cheerful.” Anastasia crossed her arms and raised her brow at you, her tail swishing behind her. “Now all you do is command like a general and complain like a servant.”

“Why do you care so much about what I’m doing in my life, Stas? I’m doing my best—“

“Because our parents don’t see how much you do for us.” She raised her voice, not loud enough for it to echo in the forest, but loud enough that it rang through your ears. “And I want to see you happy again. When you would come home grinning because Cardan gave you a book or flowers or dessert—I want to see you smile without you having to force one.”

You grip your necklace even tighter, “Why must you mention Cardan every single change you get? You know we haven’t spoken in the past few cycles. Hell, I haven’t even seen him.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s always busy with… other things in life.”

Anastasia frowned, “But he—“

“Girls! Cyril! Come inside, we have something to discuss with you four!” Your mother called from the manor, grabbing the wooden swords from Cyril and Eliana as they ran past her.

She kissed Anastasia on the cheek when given the basket full of fruit and nodded in your direction when you followed, shutting the door behind.

Your father was already seated on the leather chair in the living room, cat-like eyes staring deep into the fireplace. The four of you sat on the long couch in order of age, looking between one another in confusion before your father spoke with his deep voice.

“The king had invited us to dinner over at the palace tonight.” He said smoothly, glancing back at his children before looking up at his wife, her hand rested on his shoulder delicately. "He said he wanted to discuss some matters between our families and the kingdom."

When no one said anything, your mother sighed and moved over to her children, letting the younger two seize her hands, both of them still in confusion of the sudden invitation. She sent them soft smiles before meeting her eldest daughters' gazes.

"I need you girls to be dressed in your finest dresses. Remember the ones we had tailored last month? I need you girls to wear them."

"Mother, do you know what they want to discuss?" You stand and take Eliana's hand as your mother released her to follow you to her room.

Your mother smiled, "Get changed, darling."

Anastasia glanced at you from the corner of her eye as you entered the palace with Eliana balanced on your hip, Cyril holding onto your free hand tightly. She watched quietly as you entertained the young kids, frowning at the thought that it was your job to take care of them.

In front of her, your parents spoke in hushed tones, careful not to disturb the peace between their children. Neither parent caring if you were in charge of Eliana and Cyril.

"Why did you bring a dagger with you?" Anastasia murmured, mind referring back to you slipping a silver dagger on your thigh garter.

"Self-defenese." You shrug and adjust Eliana in your arm, tucking a piece of stray hair away from her face and smiling when her cat ears twitched. "Why didn't you bring a dagger?"

"Didn't think I had to." Anastasia replied as her tail swished in irritation.

She didn’t understand why you were suddenly so protective of yourself. You were never like this two years ago so something must’ve happened to you, otherwise you wouldn’t feel unsafe in a highly guarded environment.

As your family entered the great hall, your eyes immediately fell upon Cardan’s. His black eyes burned into your skin, the gold a representation of what once was. He sat in his own throne with a glass of red wine in his hands, his tail peeking from behind.

"It's an honor to finally eat with your family once more, your majesty." Your father bowed in respect to his old friend, tone almost teasing as the King chuckled at the theatrics of the family in front of him.

"Oh, enough with formalities. Our families have known each other for quite some time." King Eldred waved a hand before getting up and approaching your family, his own family following suit. "Look how big your children have grown."

Both parties went around, exchanging polite greetings before sitting in their assigned seats. As always, you were seated next to Cardan. Only this time, it was different. Different in a way only true observers would know what had changed.

"Y/N." Cardan said without looking over at you, his tail moving to wrap around the base of your chair.

"Cardan." You sip on your wine as food gets passed around the table, eyes concentrated on the tapestry of their family tree at the back of the room.

He circles the top of his glass with his finger, staring at the newly poured red wine. "How long has it been?"

"Stopped counting after I hit one year." You briefly glance at him, narrowing your eyes at him when he continued to stare at you like you were a painting. "What?"

"You haven't changed at all." He muttered and downed his drink once more, a servant coming around to refill his glass. When you looked at him with a raised brow, he clicked his tongue and clarified. "It's a compliment."

"You remember me from when we were sixteen. I doubt I stayed the same." You waved a hand around, gold ring glinting from the candles displayed around. Cardan's eyes zeroed in on the piece of jewelry before meeting your eyes again as you spoke. "You changed a lot more than I did."

He hummed, "How so?"

"You're on your fifth glass of wine, my prince." You say, venom dripping from your tone.

"You're still on your first." He nudged his chin toward your nearly full cup, sensing you stiffen beside him.

"I don't drink." You pick at your food and look over at the tapestry once more, hand tightening around your fork. "Not anymore."

For the rest of dinner, neither of you spoke. The tension between the two of you increased as the night went on. Cardan drank faster than you knew he could handle. You were surprised how high his tolerance became since you last drank with him. But you weren't any better than him.

You kept fidgeting with your dress underneath the table, politely smiling whenever you were acknowledged by anyone. You were also well aware of his tail being wrapped around your chair. He used to keep his tail on you any chance he had if he couldn't physically hold you.

If anyone noticed, they didn't bring it up.

You were both a mess and you only spoke to one another for less then five minutes. The only other time you spoke was when your mother finally addressed you, her hand place delicately over you fidgeting one.

"Will you take your younger siblings out in the garden while we discuss other matters?" Your mother squeezed your hand, her eyes meeting yours.

"Of course." You plastered on a small smile and take Eliana and Cyril's hands, looking back at Anastasia who stayed behind.

You tilted your head at her but she shook her head, listening to the conversation your parents were having with the king. Nodding, you began to lead your siblings to the garden, knowing the palace like the back of your hand.

Cyril looked up at you, eyes full with curiosity. "Was that your boyfriend?"

You look down at your brother with an incredulous look, "Cardan’s the prince."

"He's been to our house before." Eliana pointed out, a smug smile on her face when she believed she was smart than her older brother.

"Yeah, like years ago!" He argued back and glared at her when she stuck his tongue out at him.

"If you two start arguing, I will make you two sit in the library and read." You stand in front of them and cross your arms, a frown tugging at your lips. When they quieted down and apologized to each other, you spoke once more. "What game do you want to play?"

The siblings turned to each other with wide grins, shouting, "Lira's Chase!"

You smiled at them in return and lean back against a willow tree, nodding your head toward the rest of the garden. "I'll give you two a ten second start."

As the two of them ran as fast as they could, you looked up at the palace in front of you, capturing every detail you could spot through the darkness of the night. You could still see servants walking through the hall with their candles and guards stationed at every doorway and entrance.

Something you didn’t see was the youngest Greenbriar watching you from one of the stone balconies.

Cardan swirled his drink around with one hand and watched as you chased your siblings around the garden, his heart strings tugging at the sight of your bright smile and wild nature.

He missed seeing you everyday. He missed your laughter, your smiles, and all your quick moments with him. He simply missed your existence.

"Do you still love her, brother?" Caelia spoke softly from beside her brother, watching his face burn a light pink before he finished his wine. She couldn't tell whether or not his flushed face was from the wine or from watching you.

"Why are you here?" He haphazardly wiped his mouth with his hand, eyes still locked onto your figure as you tickled Eliana—the young girl squealing for her brother to help her.

"When I see my youngest brother staring longing at a girl he's loved since they met, I can inquire all I like." Caelia tilted her head and finally caught Cardan's eyes, the ones that stared back at her with an annoyed look. "Would you rather Dain or Balekin ask about your love life?"

Cardan huffed and adjusted the rings adorning his fingers, paying close attention to the gold ring on his left hand. "I'd rather not speak about the matter at all."

Before she could respond, Rhyia entered with a bored look on her face, her hand always clasped around the silver sword attached to her hip. She never needed her own guard, but her father sent one to follow her anyway.

Rhyia whistled at her sister, grabbing her attention before noticing her youngest sibling beside her. "Caelia, father wants to see you— Cardan, what a surprise.”

Caelia stepped beside her sister and looped her arm through hers, watching her brother roll his eyes at the two of them. "He's being a hopeless romantic again."

"Just talk to her." Rhyia sighed and looked out at the palace gardens, smiling when she saw you with your own siblings.

She always admired you for taking care of your siblings. The Greenbriar siblings weren’t exactly as close as your family.

"Because that went down exactly how I wanted it during dinner." Cardan replied to Rhyia with a scrunched smile, catching his sisters' disapproving stares.

He didn't understand why his own family became so invested between the two of you. One day they were talking about making amends with other kingdoms then the next, his father brought up the topic of you during one of their family dinners.

Cardan didn't think his father even cared that much about him and what went on in his life since he left to live with Balekin.

"If you don't talk to her before her parents do—even worse, our father—you know shit will start." Rhyia sighed and flicked a piece of her golden hair behind her shoulder, eyes settling on her brother’s conflicted face.

"How much time do I have until father announces it to everyone here?" Cardan looked back over at you, hands gripping the stone ledge as his mental clock ticked by faster—harder.

"He's collecting us as we speak." She said softly, quickly pulling Caelia away from Cardan's path as he ran through the palace halls to get to you.

"Gotcha'." You grin as you caught Cyril and Eliana in your arms, tickling them as they squirmed in your hold. Finally, you let go and sucked in a breath, shaking your head in amusement as they laughed. "You guys have gotten a lot faster than I last remember."

Cyril continued to laugh as you fixed your hair, pushing away strands that were disrupted from chasing the two of them. “You’re the one training us.”

“I guess that’s true.” You sigh and dust off their clothes before reaching on the inside of your dress, whipping around to find yourself holding a silver dagger against Cardan’s throat. "What do you want?"

"You clearly still carry a dagger with you everywhere you go." He stated smoothly, taking your wrist in his hand and pulling it away from his skin. Your gaze sharpened, making Cardan speak once more. "I know, self defense."

You huff and tuck the dagger away, catching the gaze of your suddenly shocked and horrified siblings. Kneeling, you cupped their faces and thumbed their cheeks softly.

"Cy, Eli, go inside and find Stasia. It seems like I have to talk with the prince." You clarify gently, watching the gears in their head slowly turn.

They nodded before looking back at Cardan, narrowing their eyes at the person who ruined their fun and games. You rolled your eyes at their antics and shooed them away, feeling for your ring as Cardan spoke.

"Did your parents tell you why your family was summoned here?" He tilted his head.

"No, mother deflected."

"Shit, okay." He muttered before leaning back against a stone hedge, running his fingers through his hair in thought. He didn’t want to be the one to tell you, but it seemed like there was no other choice. "Our families are planning an arranged marriage."

"Between who?" You crease your brows and look between his eyes, face falling when he said what he needed to without opening his mouth. You spun your ring around before holding it tightly, "Cardan."

"I didn't know until this morning—"

You interrupted him, beginning to pace in front of him. Worry etched your face, your nails tapping against each other. "What will they do when they find out?"

"They don't need to know.”

“Cardan, they ask about this stuff. Especially since you’re the goddamn prince.” You rub your face in frustration and look over at him with exhaustion. “They’ll find out one way or another.”

“Y/N…” He almost reached out to you, his hand twitching by his side as his tail whipped furiously behind him. “There’s not much we can do now. All we can do is wait it out.”

“We got drunk, Cardan.” You stop pacing and gaze at his wine stained lips, frowning as your eyes snapped back up to his. “We made bad decisions—“

Cardan scoffed and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “What? Loving me was a bad decision?”

“I never said that.” You stepped back and touch the golden ring once more, watching him do the exact same thing with his own ring.

“Then what? What was the bad decision?” He asked, eyes narrowed as you searched for the words.

You were at a loss. Each explanation in your mind blurring with one another, made up expressions of your parents and his father blending into one huge picture of disappointment. You couldn’t even fathom the thought that Cardan still drank after everything you both went through.

“We got married at sixteen!” You finally shouted from the pressure, wincing when Cardan flinched and birds shot out of the tree surrounding you both. “We were drinking and suddenly, we vowed to forever be with each other. You asked and I agreed, but it doesn’t make our current predicament any better.”

Cardan watched as you sat rigidly on a bench, head in your hands. He bit his lip before looking away, memories from two years ago rushing in from the dam you broke.

“Do you ever think about how I felt after I woke up and you were gone?” He put a hand to his chest and breathed, tilting his head up to stare at the glimmering stars that seemed to tease him. “I’ve loved you since the day we met, and you just left me alone.”

“I was scared!” You stand again and grab your dress tightly, swishing it around in slight annoyance. “Now our parents will know what we’ve done when we were younger.”

“That was two years ago!” He breathed heavily, stepping closer to you. He stood so close that you were chest to chest, his head tilted down to meet your eyes. His chest still felt heavy as you looked up at him in disbelief, “And even after two years, I still love you.”

“What?” You meet his eyes in shock, hands dropping to your side.

Cardan felt his tail whip behind him, lips parting without any hesitation as he repeated his words. “I still love you, Y/N.”

“No no no, you can’t just say that.” You back up and stare at him, shaking your head. You wanted to push him away and yell, but you just couldn’t.

Your heart ached and your mind hurt just thinking about that night two years ago.

“Then tell me.” He spoke quietly, his voice shaking with every word as he grabbed your hand and thumbed the golden ring matching his. “Tell me you don’t love me anymore and I’ll tell my father to stop everything.”

“I can’t.” You whisper and wipe a stray tear as a sob threatened to spill over. “You know I can’t.”

Cardan caught you before you could fall, holding you in his arms as you tried to suppress more tears. It physically hurt him to see you so torn up about the arrangement.

Neither of you could expect the other to leave, but neither of you expected to come back either.

Cardan wiped your tears and held your face, “I love you—“

“—I’m sorry.” You said softly. “I never wanted to leave.”

“I know.” He pulled you into a hug, burying his head in your neck as you buried yours in his chest. “I know.”

The prefect’s bathroom was basically heaven. Most of the time, if I woke up early enough, I could have the whole place to myself for at least an hour. It was a necessary respite from being Slytherin head girl. Tension was high in the wizarding world, even higher being one of the few non-pureblood Slytherin students. Even though I put up the most hardened front I could, very few of the students actually listened to me. It was a wonder I hadn’t been removed from my position yet. Perhaps I would’ve, if Slughorn didn’t absolutely adore me.

The bubbles smelled of lavender and cedar, and the water was deliciously hot against my tired skin. It truly made crawling out of bed before dawn worth it.

Until I heard the door clang open.

Footsteps rang out but stopped short. I turned to look at the ruiner of my fun and saw a fellow Slytherin. The head boy—Regulus. He looked stricken and nervous, something foreign on his usually haughty and distant face. I sighed, sinking back into the bubbles.

“Well, come in if you’re going to.”

He approached the bath, not close to me but unfortunately not as far away as he could’ve gone. He cleared his throat and I turned away, allowing him to undress and slip into the bath himself. Funny, I’d never pictured the Black heir to be shy.

“Alright.” He said, and I again leaned my head against the edge of the tub behind me.

There was something unnerving about having him there. He wasn’t looking at me, either out of some perceived sense of chivalry or simply a disgust at my blood status. When finally it seemed he was calming down, his arms emerged to rest on the tub’s edge on either side of him. That’s when I saw it—the dark mark standing out on his pale forearm. Like a child’s drawing on a wall. Like a snake in a henhouse. I could not stop the words that spewed from me.

“You’re one.”

His head whipped toward me in surprise and, seeing what my eyes had landed on, he shot his arms back down into the water.

“I’m leaving.”

“No, (y/n), listen to me.”

I couldn’t seem to stop shaking my head. I felt hysterical. “I’m going.”

He began to move toward me. “I won’t turn around for you to go.”

“I don’t care. Don’t flatter yourself, prince.” I spat. The sound of the disturbed water echoed through the room as I pulled myself up and out.

“Merde.” But I didn’t care. He could look at me in disgust or whatever else. I grabbed the fluffy green towel and began to storm off.

And then he spoke. “You’re joining the order, right?”

I spun around. No one was supposed to know. Especially not a bloody death eater. Especially not Regulus Black. “What?”

“Dorcas is. I heard her telling Pandora. So you must be, too, right?” Oh, that girl was going to get it. She wasn’t supposed to be blabbing. Although I don’t know why I expected anything else. She wasn’t exactly discreet. So he knew. Of course he knew. Fine.

“And?” I crossed my hands over my chest.

“Come back. I can help you.” He was leaning so far over the side I nearly expected him to come after me.

“Piss off.”

“No, really.” He wasn’t a bad actor. If I didn’t know any better I’d think his big, pleading eyes were sincere.

“I don’t buy it. Not if there’s nothing in it for you.” I wanted to walk away. I did. But I wanted to be something in the Order, someone people would remember. And if I could offer them something…

He shook his head, his gray eyes going distant. “The things I’ve seen now… He’s not… I need to do something.” I was right. What an actor.

“Goodbye, Regulus.” I began toward where I’d left my clothes.

“Fine!” It was so loud I turned back at once. I’d never heard him speak so loud. “What’s in it for me,” he sucked in a breath, “is a pretty girl.” I couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t possibly be suggesting…

“Excuse me?”

He straightened, regaining composure. “You heard me. I want you.” Me. “And I’ll pay information in exchange.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

I stomped back over, looking down on him. I liked it. I piled all my hatred for blood supremacists into my words and hoped it would bite. “There's nothing you could tell me worth that.”

A smirk appeared on his stupid face. “I beg to differ. You wouldn’t listen to nice Regulus, fine. You’re well aware of what Blacks will do to get what they want.” He leaned his smug face closer. “Make a deal with me and I can make it worth your while. For the Order. For people like you.” People with dirty blood, he meant. Worthless people. People he wanted dead.

“Somehow I doubt someone like me is worth so much to you.”

He stared me down. “It’s war. Maybe I don’t want to die a virgin.”

I almost lost it. There’s no way I heard him right. There’s no way Regulus fucking Black would tell me something like that. But, then, who would believe me? In our house where everyone worshipped the ground he walked on, who would ever believe that? And, worst of all, he looked serious. Worst of all, I believed him.

“Fine. Information first.”

He was averting his eyes again. “Put some clothes on first.”

“I thought this was what you wanted.”

He sighed, seeming exasperated and almost pained. Apparently I was giving him a run for his money. Good. Someone needed to.

“Voldemort is weak.” I worked not to let my mouth fall open. So few people ever referred to him by name like that. And to say he was weak… I certainly hadn’t expected that. “He’s weakening himself for you, if you’re smart enough to look.”

“Bloody hell does that mean?”

“Kiss me.”

My stomach flipped. Of course that was the deal but I hadn’t exactly thought it through. His face was deadly serious, no smirk. I hadn’t been nervous in his gaze before, but his greenish eyes suddenly laid me bare in a whole new way. I was reminded of before, when we’d been kids. When we’d been friends. Just two nervous first years sorted into the same house. Both readers, both took ourselves a bit too seriously. I’d tug on his dark curls whenever I walked past, and he’d make faces at me when we both finished our tests before everyone else. I’d been so infatuated with him then. I’d dreamed of him saying those two words. But then things had changed. When Sirius left home, Regulus cut me out. That was fine. But when he’d seemed to become a blood supremacist, that’s when I’d decided to cut him out. From then on, it was like he was dead. But it was flooding back. The thoughts of those curls…

I knelt down in front of him, heart pounding like racehorses in my chest, and attempted to steel myself. He was still a monster. He was still a monster.

His eyes, more hazel than green as I approached, were unreadable. With my palms flat on the damp ground, I leaned in, and our lips met so gently, just a flutter, before he pulled away.

“Is that okay?” He swallowed.

Merlin, I hoped it wasn’t real. After so long of icing him out, after him getting that thing in his skin, he couldn’t have been putting up a front. He couldn’t really want to help the Order. Because, if he did, I thought I might just break. And I was not going to let myself fall for this prick. The youngest Black was not an option.

I nodded. His lips met mine again and this time I parted them for him. His top lip was soft between my own, and I felt him flick his tongue along my bottom lip. It sent a shiver through me. I broke away. I had to stay focused.

“More information.”

His lips still hung open a bit. His face was flushed. “Things are going to get much, much worse. He can undoubtedly win this war. But He is only a man. And soon he will be only half of one.”

I frowned and shook my head in question.

“Sit on the edge here.” He nodded in front of himself.

“No, that was like nothing. Give me more.”

He just stared. God, I was so stupid to let him have so much power. But, I wanted to enter the Order with something to offer. With some leverage, frankly. I didn’t want to be some no name grunt. And then there was Regulus… I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it far too many times for my own good.

So I sat myself at the edge, my feet in the water and his face level with my clasped knees. His gaze didn’t leave mine as his hands slid up the length of my calves. Gently, he parted my legs, and I was paralyzed. Eyes still trained on me, he leaned in to place the softest kisses along the insides of one thigh and then the other. I couldn’t stifle the small groan that escaped me. No one had ever touched me there. He continued to kiss one thigh, then the other, then the other again, getting closer and closer. And then his gaze fell to my bare pussy in front of him. His breath was hot, and it sent a pang deep through me.

“May I?” Fuck, of course he was raised to be a gentleman. But it didn’t matter.

“You’re going to do what you want anyway.”

He looked up at me, looking almost surprised. His hair was slightly damp, one long piece clinging to his sharp jaw. “I won’t. May I?” His eyebrows raised. I wasn’t sure if he was asking me regardless of the deal, but I answered regardless.

“Yes.” It was only a whisper.

And then his face was against me, breathing me in, and he moaned. When his tongue finally grazed my clit, I threw my head back, my eyes clenched shut. I had no frame of reference, but I thought he must be really good because I’d never felt such bliss. As I whimpered it seemed he got more confident. He picked up quickly on my preference for lighter pressure and flicking rather than swirling. Clever in class and out of it, apparently.

He wrapped his arms around my legs, and I let myself recline back onto the stone floor behind me. Anyone could have walked in, but there was nothing I cared about other than his tongue, his lips, his breath. His fingers gripped my legs so tight. I could feel the pressure rising up in me like a devastatingly tall wave. As it neared me, I hooked my legs around his head, pulling him in. He groaned, and the vibrations of it sent the wave crashing.

“Regulus.” His name slipped out between my moans as I lost control of myself. My legs shook and his hands gripping my thighs were the only thing tethering me to earth. I could’ve laid there in the lapping shoreline of pleasure forever if it weren’t for rationality. When finally my breathing began to level out, I realized fully what had just happened. I bolted up.

He was staring back at me, expressionless again.

“Okay, so… what now?” I wanted to wrap my arms around myself but what would’ve been the point? I’d already been as vulnerable as anyone could be for him.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“And then what?” Surely I knew what was coming next.

“Nothing. I’ll tell you all you want to know.”

He turned, closing his eyes. He looked peaceful. Which made no sense because we were supposed to be bargaining. This was supposed to be another fucking casualty of war, not some fling. But he said he’d tell me anything.

I charmed the door so we’d know if anyone was coming and slipped back into the bath next to him. The bubbles were almost all gone.

“Regulus. What was that?”

“Just something I’ve been thinking about doing for years, mon ange.” My heart was paralyzed.

“What did you just call me?”

A real smile spread across his face. “I’m going to die for your cause, (y/n). Please let me enjoy the one thing I’ve always wanted before I do.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

He lifted a hand to my cheek, brushing his fingers lightly along it. “I would never lie to you. The way you said my name… it didn’t sound foreign on your lips.” I was absolutely about to make a mistake.

And then I kissed him.