#I like to imagine that my art professors would be so disappointed in me for using my half-baked fine arts degree on analyzing-

[patrophthia]

do not make him ‘go away’ | tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x hufflepuff!reader

genre: literally just fluff and comedy (bc i love turning dark morally grey character into soft babies), superrrr self indulgent, not beta read.

word count: 4.6K

originally posted on wattpad: a while back lol

"i got knocked off my feet not amnesia."

the corner of his lips perked up at her comment, such a small motion that she almost didn't notice.

"i'll keep that in mind." and then, with a disappointed look thrown at malfoy, riddle asked her, "is he bothering you?"

"kind of," she answered slowly, not trusting where this conversation would go. "why?"

riddle ignored her question, opting on following up with his own instead, "do you want me to get rid of him for you?"

or the trope simply the trope of grumpy reluctant boyfriend and bubbly/fun girlfriend.

she had always loved defense against the dark arts. don't get her wrong, the classes and lessons were always great. professor thea was good at her job, teaching them both the theoretical and physical studies that is needed from the subject.

but now, as she landed flat on her butt, she hated the subject more than she could ever imagine. malfoy was a terrible dueling partner, taking every possible chance to knock her off her feet.

"do you want me to go easy on you badger?" he asked tauntingly, towering over her.

she looked up at him —half expecting for him to offer a hand but he only smirked at her. "you're a dick."

"i sure am." he only watched her struggle with amusement.

there was a scoff from besides him and within a split second he was being nudged over. replacing him was the head boy, leaning down to look at her with furrowed eyebrows. he offered her a hand; one which she took and lifted herself up.

she muttered a quick thanks, not sparing him a look whilst she busied herself with wiping soot off of her clothes. looking back up, she found him gazing at her.

"what's your name?" he asked after a minute, watching her with skepticism.

"[name]?" she replied, unsure. he knew her name, surely he did, they had partnered up during sixth year for a potions project and he can't have forgotten it in the span of one year could he? "i thought you already knew that."

"i did." riddle pursed his lips, nodding to himself. "i just wanted to make sure you knew your name."

she scoffed, giving him a dirty look. "i got knocked off my feet not amnesia."

the corner of his lips perked up at her comment, such a small motion that she almost didn't notice.

"i'll keep that in mind." and then, with a disappointed look thrown at malfoy, riddle asked her, "is he bothering you?"

"kind of," she answered slowly, not trusting where this conversation would go. "why?"

riddle ignored her question, opting on following up with his own instead, "do you want me to get rid of him for you?"

if it were anyone else she would've laughed it off as a joke but tom riddle has this ominous thing about him, one that put you slightly on edge, making it seem as though he would actually follow through with his threat.

so —as annoying as malfoy was, she told him. "no." and then, slightly terrified that she would wake up tomorrow with the news that abraxas malfoy had mysteriously gone missing, she added as a precaution, "don't kill him."

she wasn't sure if she was joking or genuinely scared that riddle would do it for her sake. no matter how much he would deny it, to her —he seemed like a feminist, never failing to hand detentions out to male students who mistreated girls. so killing his cult follower for a woman wouldn't be far from how she characterized of him.

"not unless i'm dying then you can kill him."

it was barely a month later when the same occurrence happened; malfoy was her dueling partner once more, malfoy shot her a spell at her that had her landing on the floor, malfoy mocking her for apparently being a 'weak' dueler, riddle pushing him over and offering her a helping hand.

asking her, "can i kill him now?"

to which she replied, without fail. "no."

riddle gave her a dissatisfied look but kept his hands off of malfoy nonetheless, respecting her request.

why he listened to what she said, she couldn't answer.

not until he asked her to call him tom (or maybe something else a significant other would use), not until tom asked to be her boyfriend, not until tom reluctantly agreed to trail after her on a trip to hogsmeade with her friends.

it seems as though tom could never say no to her.

"are you ready?" she asked, peeking her head inside of his dormitory's door.

tom whipped his head around from where he stood in front of his mirror, looking less than excited to be going out today. "yes."

"great," she tried to stop herself from squealing, pushing the door open so she could approach his side. "i can't wait for you to meet them, they think i'm lying to them about you."

tom fully turned himself to face her, giving her a once over and taking in how she looked.

pretty.

as always.

he felt something flutter in his chest, pride for having her? excitement in finally going to honey dukes after hearing so much about it? the hope of being able to convince her to let him make malfoy go away? love?

no it can't be. he was conceived after a love potion, he can't love. feeling slightly frustrated with himself, tom grumbled, "stop looking at me like that."

she furrowed her brows, curious by what he meant. "like what?"

"like you have feelings for me."

"tom," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose out of irritation. "i'm literally your girlfriend, i'm supposed to have feelings for you."

tom blinked. her telling him that she was his girlfriend shouldn't have felt as good as he did. what the fuck is wrong with him. defeatedly, he muttered, "i'm breaking up with you."

"yeah sure you are."

•••

"so how long have you been going out?" rae asked, acting oblivious as if [name] hadn't told her every single detail about their relationship.

she smiled, nudging for tom to answer.

tom took a deep breath. a response that rae was silently hoping for after hearing about just how grumpy and moody tom was from her friend. trying to tease him without doing so much as saying anything provoking.

he then smiled, turning on his charms in order to converse. "five months and thirteen days."

trying to get under her boyfriend's skin, [name] frowned, feigning confusion. "five months?"

"yes." tom cleared his throat, glaring at her. "and thirteen days."

"is that right?" rae questioned, trying to irk him. "[name] told me you've only been together for three months."

the slytherin turned to her, his face showing offense. "you did?"

"i love the weather this morning," she said instead, trying to distract him.

yet tom was persistent, he knew they were having a laugh, he wasn't daft, but it certainly didn't feel good to hear rae say what she said. "did you?"

"merlin isn't it crowded today?" she ignored him, looking out the carriage's window as it pulled to halt. she opened the door, landing on solid ground before looking back to where she was sat. with a tilt of her head, she signaled for them to exit as well. "what are you waiting for?"

tom sulked as he got off the carriage, a small pout on his lips. "are you going to answer me?"

she looked down the streets, seeing it packed with people from left to right before turning to him, letting her hand find his and interlocking it. "no."

tom felt a urge to pull his hand away, not used to PDA but it felt so right, so right that he went against his better judgement and mumbled something so stupid he mentally facepalmed himself. "why are you touching me?"

she only giggled in response, noting the confuse tone he had instead of being vexed by his words. "so i wouldn't lose you. you can't expect me to keep track of you with this many people around, can you? i can't lose my boyfriend."

not when he was a dark wizard who was constantly reminded that killing people is a morally wrong thing to do. "what if you start finding people to join your little fan club?"

having to tell him to not use the basilisk for salazar slytherin's quote-unquote unfinished business was hard enough for her to handle, let alone telling forty —maybe even fifty others, that it was a wrong action to take.

maybe it was her 'i can fix him' mentality but in all honesty, tom has been behaving way better ever since they'd gotten together then aragog has all year. and yes, she knew it was wrong to compare a human to an acromantula but when the said human was conceived under a love potion and has no real concept of what love is.

if he was as good as a spider, he was good to go.

"you say that like i'm evil," tom murmured, barely audible due to the loud chatter hogsmeade provided.

"you're not?" she countered incredulously. "didn't you say you wanted horcruxes despite knowing what it takes to make one?"

"yeah but . . ." he trailed off, finding himself at a loss of a word. "i didn't end up making one, idiot."

what an endearing nickname. "that doesn't make it any better, tom. you still thought about it."

"but i didn't make it."

•••

being head boy brought tom gossip. whether he cared for it or not, it always follows him. he had heard every rumors there was, knowing them thoroughly from start to finish. tom never bothered to care about them, not until he found himself becoming friends with a group of girl who would talk their heads of about anything.

with a "come in!" from his girlfriend, tom opened the door to her dorm room. he shut it behind him, eyes roaming around to try and find her. finally his eyes landed on where she sat by her desk, head low, crouching over a long strip of parchment.

"walburga and orion are betrothed." he stated, standing by her side.

"what?" rae screamed before she could, power walking out of the bathroom with her tooth brush in hand. "the blacks?"

"who else," tom said with a roll of his eyes.

that caught her attention, she turned to him, curiosity written all over her face. "aren't they cousins?"

"they're pure-bloods, inbreeding is in their genes," came octavia, [name]'s dormmate and friend who was nicer than rae would ever be. then, with a look of distaste, she added, "how could they force an engagement on orion? he's literally a fifth year while walburga graduated last year. it's disgusting."

"well," rae snickered, "what else would we expect from the black family?"

"i also caught macmillan and weasley are snogging on my rounds today," tom said, sitting down on his girlfriend's bed. "asked me to keep it a secret but there's only so much to be kept in the chamber."

rae chortled, hand covering her mouth. "you know, in my native language they would call you ប្រុសមាត់ក្តួយ (pronounced pros-moit-kdouy)."

[name]'s brow knitted along with tom's, narrowing their eyes at rae. "what does that mean?"

rae only giggled, sitting up on her bed with octavia listening it. "it technically means 'a man who can't keep his mouth shut about drama' in khmer but the literal translation is a guy with a vagina for a mouth."

"what the fuck." tom muttered, eyes wide. the three girls in the room bursted out laughing, that must've been the first time they'd ever hear him curse. "why would you call me that?"

"because you are," rae countered.

"i'm not!" he argued, "you just called me a labia."

"she never called you a labia," came [name] from his side, "you called yourself that."

"i-" tom paused, unable to tell if he himself was angry, annoyed, amused or disgusted by their conversation. "i don't like you guys anymore."

"you're welcome to leave any time you want," rae quipped, gesturing towards the door. "or find new friends."

octavia changed the topic, done with their bantering and told them about a story with a guy she'd met. apparently they'd been going out for a total of three months, keeping it a secret, before he cheated on her.

she was mad at him but he made it seem as if it was her fault; telling her that what she heard was true but he couldn't stop about thinking them. and he knows that she's been there a few time as well, insinuating that octavia could ever do something as wrong as cheating.

there was a look tom shot his girlfriend when octavia finished recalling everything that happened between her and chris marsh.

[name] sighed, knowing why exactly he gave her the look and shook her head. "no."

"but-"

"no buts," she interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose with frustration, "you cannot kill him. we talked about this tom."

"i know but he's hurting her," he pointed out, "and she's your friend so. . ."

"tom please," she pleaded, "no killing is justifiable unless one of us in danger with actual death."

"promise me i won't wake up to find out that marsh is missing."

"i promise that you won't wake up to find out that marsh is missing," said tom defeatedly.

•••

tom looked ridiculously stupid, he knew that. he sighs, feeling rae smearing wet paint on his face. the things he did for his girlfriend.

if you were to go back in time to tell tom riddle that he would be sitting on a chair getting his face painted black and yellow for a quidditch game, he'd think you were having a laugh and cast a killing curse at you.

but now, being told repeatedly to, "stay still you pesky snake" by his girlfriend's friend as she watched the two of them interact without the smallest hint of jealousy, tom —he would never ever in a million years admit this— couldn't be happier.

there was such a soft domestically about it, him getting along with her friend without the urge to kill rae or for rae to kill him, knowing that they were friends who just liked to threatened one another was more than anything tom could ask for.

he felt good, despite the uncomfortableness that came with donning a different set of colors. he (surprisingly) didn't care that he wasn't dressed in green in silver, being more than happy to be supporting her.

after finally being let go by rae; tom stood up, facing his girlfriend. with a tilt to his head, he asked her, "i thought i could be very persuasive until i met you."

"never thought i'd be going to quidditch game, let alone support another house." his eyes then glanced to a mirror that stood besides her, taking in his own appearance. salazar, rae must be taking the piss, he looked like a clown. eyes shifting back to her, he asked tiredly, "are you happy now?"

"i am if you are," she responded, taking a step towards him."i'm not," tom grumbled truthfully, not hiding a single ounce of annoyance. she shrugged, smiling. "that's too bad, i take back what i said. i'm happy now."

the three made their way out of her dorm and into the hufflepuff's common room to meet up with octavia. tom eyes quickly roamed the room, surprised by how many of the students who were spending their time there was from another house.

from his quick scan, tom had managed to count a total of five slytherins. three of which who were visibly miserable, face painted yellow with their friend or significant other beaming besides them. and the other two, being the ones who were forcing face paint onto their ravenclaw and gryffindor friends.

no matter how much time he'd spent welcomed in the hufflepuff common room. tom would never understand how they could be so comfortable with letting anyone enter whenever they pleased. that would not flow well with the slytherins.

up the great hall they went, passing the grand entrance before leaving the castle entirely and making their way to the quidditch pitch.

with a kiss on tom's cheek, an action that had his eyes widening and face flushed red, she bid him, rae, and octavia a goodbye before making her way into the changing room.

rae led the way towards the stands, fighting with tom about where the appropriate seat for him would be.

"no not in the slytherin section," rae argued, trying to find the best place for their group of three. "how could you be the head boy and be so stupid?"

"you're sitting in the hufflepuff row where your girlfriend would be looking for support from," she said with a tone of obviousness, finally settling down at a place she found best suited for the three of them. "honestly."

the match ended quickly, she'd had spotted the snitch within the first thirty minutes of the game before she started her pursuit and caught it in the next four minutes.

gryffindor lost by a hundred and ten points and without consciously knowing it, tom found himself cheering loudly for her, his voice was overpowered by rae but it was the thoughts that count.

there was a flash from his side, he turned, finding octavia giggling with a polaroid in hand. she wordlessly offered it to him. tom took it, curious as what he would find on it.

the picture developed bit by bit, revealing tom in frozen cheerful state, eyes bright as he watched the scene before him, his forehead was yellow, his mouth gaping with its corner tipping upwards. behind him was rae, on her feet with her hands pressed against the railing, frantically screaming at something the picture couldn't fully depict.

"you're not keeping it." octavia told him. "it's for [name]."

octavia then slipped a hand into her pocket, picking out a new picture and handed it to him. "you can have this though."

inspecting it, tom found a picture of himself frowning on his girlfriend's bed. she sat besides him, laughing as if her life depended on it, her head was thrown back, a hand clutching onto her stomach.

tom pocketed the picture, smiling to himself. "when did you take this?"

"when she told you to not make marsh 'go away'."

•••

graduation came and tom was quick to ask her to move in with him. she was skeptical at first, reasoning with him that neither of them had jobs that provided enough for them to have a financially stable home, but that idea was shot down when tom told her that the ministry had already reached out to him.

offering him a job that would let them live a comfortable life. they moved in together shortly after, finding a small cottage that looked perfect for the two.

she was able to turn her hobbies into a job, making her more than just happy. by 1950, tom —with all his slytherin ambitions— found his way to the top, earning the position of minister of magic.

it was late when tom came home, having to run over a last-minute case that malfoy presented him. he shrugged his coat off, trying to be quiet as to not wake his (still) girlfriend up. tom found his way into their bedroom where he found the en-suite door wide opened, he walked forward trying to take peek.

inside was her stood in front of the mirror, taking off her make up with a cotton pad when she spotted him, her eyes shifted to him for a second before turning back to herself. "how was work?"

"it was good," he answered, tugging at his tie. and then he furrowed his brows, lip tugged underneath his teeth. quietly, he muttered, "let's get married."

she blinked rapidly, not believing her own ears, she whipped around with a small noise of confusion, facing him. "what did you say?"

"let's get married," he repeated casually, finally getting his tie off. "are you proposing to me?" she asked him."yes." he nodded. "i thought that was clear."

"so yes or no?"

the wedding took place two years later, with it being repeatedly postponed due to tom's work but it was perfect nonetheless. they had friends and coworkers (that they actually liked) at the ceremony. rae teased tom endlessly, not once giving him a break for taking so long to propose.

in 1959, octavia invited them to dinner at her house, her and husband having an announcement for them all to hear. but before she got to the good part, octavia told her about some of the not-so-good news.

her husband, dawn, was recently bitten by a werewolf. he was having a hard time experiencing the transitions during the full moon so they had a request for them.

now here comes the good news along with her favor: octavia was pregnant, she was four weeks long and since it was only her and dawn.

she will be needing help.

"that's all?" rae asked, frowning. isn't it already implied that rae, her, and tom would all help her when she'd gotten herself knocked up? "you know you needn't ask right? i will be spoiling that child rotten."

octavia smiled, feeling relief. why did she even feel nervous in the first place? these were her friends, the same ones who collectively bullied every man she's ever broken up with. they will always have her back. "that's all."

and then she added, "i just thought it might be a burden to you guys. it's just- it will be hard since dawn would have to recover from the full moon and i'd have to work, so i need people who i can trust to babysit the kid sometimes."

"you could never be a burden," [name] said, "not when i can be the cool aunt."

"oh please," rae let out a loud cackle, "you would never be the cool aunt. that's me."

octavia gave birth on november, 3rd, 1959 to a lovely girl named clementine calla azure. the same day that the blacks welcomed their first son, sirius orion black. rae (would lie if you ever pointed this out to her) was ecstatic when clementine turned out cuter than the black's son did.

she, liked she had stated months prior, spoiled the child to death. buying it everything it could possibly want, babysitting it every time octavia even looked like she needed help.

octavia —instead of using the time to relax, spent her time creating a wolfsbane potion. making the potion was a tedious process but she had more than enough time from tom changing clementine's diaper because he, despite being forced, had promised that he would also help with her baby.

rae was an author who made enough for herself to live lavishly. apparently, muggles really love the story about a dark wizard trying to kill a little kid for his chance to be immortal.

"so," rae clapped with clementine prompted on her hip. tom, dawn, octavia and [name] were all scattered around the living room, sitting down and listening to rae as she stood. "you're probably wondering why i called you all over."

there were noises of confirmation before rae started up again. "i've been doing some research lately and there's more people who has been involuntary bitten than you would think. basically what i'm saying is that tom —since you're the god of magic or whatever— needs to draw up a new bill where werewolves would be known by the ministry and themselves only so the ministry can provide help."

"werewolves tend to have a hard time finding work and keeping the job since they would have to recover every full moon and miss work days. the potion octavia created is going to be recorded in the history book, we know that, but something else that should be recorded in history is how the lovely tom riddle —who i definitely like and doesn't want to have a one v one with— made a law or whatever, where if a werewolf is legally signed in with the ministry, they get a wolfsbane potion provided by the ministry by owl every month."

"they're extremely costly rae, and they take a ridiculous amount of time to make." dawn was quick to point out the flaw, understanding this topic more than anyone else in the room. "not to mention how there's millions of people like me out there, we won't be able to get them to everybody."

"tom is like the zeus of magic," rae said, slightly irritated that they didn't just agree right of the bat. "if he just created a lab and put twenty of the best witches and wizards in there with large pots and get it brewing, they can make it work. and as for the products needed, there's always herbologists that needs work —not trying to stereotype but most of them are hufflepuffs, they would take the chance to help without even thinking twice."

"it will work, trust me," rae said, almost pleading, "what do you say, riddle?"

the law, or bill, or whatever it was, was put into place shortly after. werewolves were scared and skeptical at first, always having been labeled as monsters until eventually people started piling in for help and they were given what they needed. octavia loved her new job at the ministry for it meant she could be helping out her husband and everyone like him whilst also having the freedom to invent whatever else she wanted.

"tavia brought clementine to work today," tom stated, making his way into their library. "so i've been thinking."

"oh no," she muttered, dropping her book onto her lap, "you never have good thoughts after seeing clementine."

tom tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes. "what do you mean?"

"last time you saw her, you decided that it was a good idea to have your basilisk follow after her when she grows up so she'd never get hurt," she answered, looking up at him as he stood before her.

tom shrugged. "i don't see any flaws in that plan, if anything i think it's the best thing for clementine."

"how can you be the minister of magic and be an absolute dumbass?" she laughed, feeling his hand reach down to rest on her cheek.

"because, i'm not," he said easily, eyes focused on hers, "and believe it or not i actually have a brilliant idea that you might actually like for once."

"alright," she muttered, amusing him, "what is it?"

"i think clementine should have a cousin."

"clementine already has a cousin—"

"that's not what i meant, idiot," tom cut her off, a small smile etching on his lips, "you know exactly what i'm trying to say. don't play dumb, pet."

"i actually don't know what you meant," she said matter-of-factly, feigning innocent, "please explain."

tom sighed. "i want us to try for a baby."

"i thought you hated kids."

"i do," he agreed, "but i also know that i wouldn't hate them if they were ours."

— from bee: this was very OOC but idc,,, fluffy tom or no tom ever (i have the i can fix him mentality)

[hiimkay]

For Anne (Imagine)

THIS AUTHOR DOES NOT SUPPORT THE VIEWS AND/OR BELIEFS OF JKR, AND ANY ANTI-TRANS, ANTISEMITIC, OR OTHER LIKEWISE INTERACTIONS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED ANYWHERE ON THIS BLOG. TAKE YOUR HATE SOMEWHERE ELSE.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x gn!reader

Word Count: 3.7k words

Summary: After watching Sebastian continue down the path of the Dark Arts in search of a cure for his sister, you begin to worry for his safety. You'd do anything for Sebastian, and if that means appealing to the Keepers, you'll do your best.

Warnings: talk of dark magic and the Dark Arts, fluff, happy ending (i promise!)

"You've more than proven yourself! Talk to them, if not for me, then for Anne," Sebastian pleaded behind you as you looked at the tryptic Isadora had left in the Undercroft. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and sigh.

"I will speak to them, but you have to promise me that there will be no more dark magic involved. I'm tired of living everyday in fear of what might happen to you, Seb. I know you care about Anne and I know it feels like everyone else has given up on her, but I promise you that putting yourself in harm's way is not going to help her. So please, at least until I talk to the Keepers, stay out of trouble." You expected a witty remark, or a shrug, but it seemed as though Sebastian finally took one of your warnings to heart.

"I will never touch the Dark Arts again if you're able to heal Anne." You were smart enough to know that his words would never be entirely true, but you smiled at the thought. "I'd be indebted to you for the rest of my life."

"I'll call it even for you taking the blame in the library." He grinned at you, and you were able to catch a glimpse of the Sebastian you met on your first real day at Hogwarts. The Sebastian you had fallen in love with, the Sebastian that you would drop anything for. Damn him.

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"Y/N, welcome back. I must say that I am surprised to see you so soon, the next trial is yet to be prepared," Professor Rackham said, clasping his painted hands in front of him. You nodded, trying to figure out the best way to approach the conversation. You knew how each of the Keepers felt about using the Ancient Magic in such a way, made obvious throughout the trails, pensieves and conversations you had already been through with them. "To what do we owe this visit?"

"I came to appeal to you on behalf of a friend." It felt as if they already knew what you were about to ask of them, but they stayed silent. With each second, you felt smaller and smaller under their watercolor gazes. "I understand the risks that come with this rare form of magic, and I understand how wary you are of allowing me to even complete the trials, but I feel as though I need to at least ask for my own knowledge."

"Are you asking us to allow you to use your power as Isadora once did?" Headmistress Fitzgerald asked, her voice laced with shock.

"I am asking that just this once, you might teach me to take someone's pain away." You felt as if your only job had been to keep from disappointing the Keepers, and yet there you were, asking them to allow you to do the one thing that had nearly endangered wizard-kind once already.

"If you will only hear me out before making your decision, then I will take comfort in that and respect your much greater knowledge of this ability if you do refuse." You waited for them to tell you off, to dismiss you, to refuse that you go any farther with Ancient Magic at all. Instead, they looked down on you expectantly. This is for Anne, for Sebastian, and for anyone else that could get hurt if he continues down the path of darkness, you thought to yourself. Anything to coax the words from your throat. "My very dear friend, Sebastian Sallow, is a fellow fifth year here at Hogwarts. He has been nothing but welcoming to me since I arrived here in a most unusual fashion, and has never been anything but understanding with everything that has happened. He has a twin sister, Anne, she used to attend Hogwarts as well. Unfortunately, she had been exploring near their home in Feldcroft and fell victim to a curse of some kind. She experiences excruciating bouts of pain, often made worse by stress or negative emotions. It has become more prevalent lately because Sebastian has taken to the Dark Arts to try and find a cure for her ailment." Again, the Keepers stayed silent as they took in the full extent of your request. "His actions are causing a rift between himself and the only family he has left. His Uncle Solomon is threatening to take him to the Headmaster, possibly even the Ministry of Magic if he continues down this path, and I'm not so sure I disagree with him entirely."

"Does this boy know of your abilities?" Professor Rookwood asked, breaking their silence.

"He does. Unfortunately we've been through a few situations together where it was necessary to wield it. He knows what I am able to do, and although I understand how quickly a power like this can absorb a person, I feel as though I am at my wit’s end. I care about Sebastian deeply, and I fear this may be the only way to stop him from going down a path there is no return from." You reminded yourself to keep your voice down, as not to seem desperate. If there was even the spark of a chance they would agree, you'd need them to know that you weren't looking for more power, you were only looking to help someone. "I know you are wary after what Isadora did with her power, but I promise to you all that I am doing this to save multiple people from heartache and physical pain. In no way do I intend to use this for my own gain, and I will fully accept the responsibilities of my actions should anything happen. I just want the Sallows to finally have peace, I want my friend to keep himself out of trouble and I hope to give him back his happiness.” You bowed your head, not knowing if there was anything else you could say.

It was up to them now, whether they trusted you with this information or not would rely only on your honesty and their intuition.

"Well, you've certainly made your case, my child." Professor Fitzgerald smiled politely down from her portrait. "Would it be alright to give us some time to discuss between ourselves?" You looked up at her, trying to hide the fact that you were surprised they would even consider it.

"Of course. However long you need, I will wait. And as I said before, if you feel as though it is too dangerous, I will do my best to find another way to keep my friend from getting himself into trouble. I just couldn't go any further without asking, if not for anything else, than for his sake."

"We understand, more than you know. Return to us in two days time, I'm sure we will have an answer for you." You bowed your head again, more swiftly.

"Thank you, all of you, for your consideration. I know this is no small thing to ask of you." With that, you took your leave. You rushed up the stairs from the Map Chamber and took a breath of relief. It had gone better than you expected, but the hard part had only just begun. All you could do was wait.

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You had tapped your foot against the solid wood floor throughout the entirety of Defense Against the Dark Arts class, waiting for Professor Hecat to dismiss you so that you could rush down to the Map Chamber. However, as soon as she gave you all permission to leave for the day, your heart dropped into your stomach.

In only a few moments you would know whether or not you could help Anne Sallow heal from her pain, and you couldn't help but feel anxious. What would you do if they refused to grant their permission to you? What would you tell Sebastian? What would you do to keep him from returning to the Dark Arts?

As you snapped out of your thoughts, you found yourself at the top of the staircase leading to the Map Chamber. You had pondered your next move the entire walk, and your heart began to pound faster and louder in your ears as you took each step further down. You passed by the Floo flame that you could have taken to get here faster, but you appreciated the walk as much as you dreaded it. The doors to the Map Chamber swung open quietly and you approached the four Keepers as they quieted their discussion. Professor Rackham greeted you with a smile and it offered a small bit of comfort to your racing heart.

"Hello again, Y/N. Thank you, for giving us the time to discuss."

"Of course, sir. It is the least I could do in return for your consideration." You clasped your hands behind your back, wringing them together and pulling at your fingers as the weight of the world seemed to fall on you.

"We talked for quite some time, as you might imagine. This is no easy thing to ask or achieve. We understand the weight of the situation your... friend, has put you in, but we also know the risks you'll be taking on by wielding such a power. As you've seen thus far in your trials, Isadora was not ready for the knowledge. It is something we must live with and continue to protect others from." You nodded, remembering Isadora's pensieve in the Undercroft.

"We cannot be sure that you are ready to take on this ability, seeing as you haven't been able to finish the trials yet. But if what you say is true, more people may be put in danger by the path that Mr. Sallow is trying to follow," Professor Bakar sighed.

"I cannot imagine how you must feel, it seems as if the entire wizarding world is after you, my dear. I- we all sympathize with you in that respect." Headmistress Fitzgerald nodded down to you. You offered her a thankful smile in return.

"With all things considered, we cannot be certain how safe this knowledge is for you to hold..." You could feel your heart starting to crack in your chest. That would be it, they would tell you you were not ready and send you away, and you'd return to Sebastian with news that you would never want to give him. "But, it seems as if more rests on this than we could have anticipated. Therefore, we will bestow upon you the knowledge we have been protecting for centuries."

You froze, watching Professor Rackham as a journal manifested before you. You held your hands out and it fell softly into your palms.

"Before you do this, I must ask you to make a promise to all of us."

"Anything, sir."

"If you are able to successfully remove the girl's pain, rid her from the curse, we must ask that you contain it immediately. Do not let anyone or anything come into contact with it. Once it is contained, bring it back to us. Do not stop until that power is returned to the Map Chamber where it may be contained safely and correctly."

"Of course. I could not think of a safer place to keep it, I will bring it right away." Your eyes fell to the cover of the journal, a deep blue leather neatly folded over to hide the most unpredictable form of the magic you wielded. "I cannot ever express to you how much this means to me. I will not forget how you've entrusted me with this, and I will not forget my duty to you, as well as my fellow wizards."

"We trust that you will do well. If you do not, know that you are responsible and that we will be forced to take action." You nodded once more, pulling the cover of the journal back gently.

A flash of light blinded you as the pages began to flip erratically in your hands. Your head suddenly filled with images of pain leaving the body, appearing in its most raw, powerful, physical form. A surge ran through your ever nerve and then as quickly as it began, it was over. The journal flipped closed and disappeared from your hands. You blinked your eyes, readjusting to the dimness of the Map Chamber.

"Now, go do what you have set out to do. Help that boy and his family. Keep your intentions pure and your focus on only removing her pain."

"Thank you again, all of you. I am indebted to you." You turned on your heel and left, head still reeling with images and energy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I've spoken with Anne, she agreed to let you try your hand," Sebastian said, grinning as he led you up the familiar path toward Solomon's home. "My uncle is still skeptical, but Anne said that she assured him nothing could get worse." You fiddled with the jar in your hands, hoping it would suffice in containing the magic until you could return it to the Keepers.

"I'm grateful that Anne trusts me enough to do this, I truly hope I can help her." Sebastian stopped ahead of you, almost causing you to run into him. He turned abruptly and pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you tightly and he sighed into your shoulder.

"Thank you for doing this. I know you've put a lot on the line just for me. I know you can do this." With his words, your worries seemed to fade to the back of your mind. Determination took hold and you hugged him back. After a moment, you released your hold on each other. His hand brushed against yours and a jolt of electricity ran through your veins.

He pushed the door to his uncle's home open and held it as you entered the warm environment. Solomon paced back and forth through the front room, seemingly conflicted. Anne turned from her spot at the table and smiled at you thoughtfully. You greeted her quietly and Sebastian stopped to stand near his uncle as you took a seat next to Anne.

"Hello, Y/N. Sebastian tells me you might know something that can... help me?" Her tone sounds skeptical, and you can't help but understand.

"I believe I might. I know Sebastian has tried time and time again with no difference, not for his lack of trying, but because he went about it the wrong way." She nodded, agreeing that his methods had been less than ideal.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, what is so different about your method?" You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"In the time that I've been at Hogwarts, I've come to find that I have a connection to a rare form of Ancient Magic. I first saw traces of it on my way to the castle, which was when our carriage was attacked by a dragon. That was just the beginning of a path toward discovering and understanding the power I have the potential to wield. I have no idea how I came upon this connection, or why I was chosen, but I want to do good with it." She smiled, glancing over her shoulder at her brother.

"I can see why he likes you so much. You're good for him." You couldn't help the heat in your face as her smile grew wider. "I had a suspicion that his feelings weren't one-sided. Don't worry, I won't tell." And for one moment, you felt like a kid again. Just two girls discussing boys and trivial things.

"Well, then I should say that I understand Ominis' care for you as well." It was Anne's turn to go pink in the cheeks. "He has been worried about the both of you, but he's been trying to dissuade Sebastian for so long because he didn't want you to suffer any more than you have already." She chuckled, looking up at you.

"I do miss Ominis. He visits when he can, but it isn't the same as attending school together."

"I understand, after the time I've spent with the two of them I'm not sure what I'd do without them." She nodded, taking a deep breath. "Are you ready?" You asked.

"As ready as one can be in this situation."

"Thank you, again, for trusting me with this."

"If it won't make me any worse, then it doesn't hurt to try." You nodded one last time, setting the jar onto the table beside you. You pulled your wand from under your cloak and glanced to Sebastian, who gave you a small nod of approval. You took in the way Solomon stared quietly, most likely wondering how he ended up in such a situation.

"If my knowledge serves me right, you should not feel any pain as it is removed. If you do, please say something and I will stop immediately." You gave Anne a stern look, feeling slightly protective of the girl in such a vulnerable moment. She placed her hands on her knees and closed her eyes.

You pressed your wand lightly above her heart, closing your eyes as you envisioned the pain and torment leaving her body. Energy began to flow through your body and you could feel your power swirling down your arm and into your wand.

Take away Anne's pain. Take away Anne's pain.

Take away the curse that has left her so hurt.

Take away the curse that has affected her entire family.

Please work.

You heard a small gasp and slowly opened your eyes, watching as a black and green mass of dark magic slowly seeped away from Anne's chest. She watched as it left her body, slowly morphing around itself at the tip of your wand. She didn't show any sign of pain or discomfort, so you continued to pull.

As it grew, you watched how big it seemed in comparison to the magic that you had seen Isadora pull from her father. You held your breath, watching the last of the dark cloud leave Anne's body. Carefully, you pushed the tip of your wand into the jar, releasing the magic into its temporary holding container. You pulled your wand away and sealed the jar tightly, afraid of what might happen should it be left free. You sat your wand down and turned to face Anne again, watching her look over her body.

"Are you alright?" You asked. She met your gaze, staring for a moment before letting out a full body laugh. Her arms quickly launched around you to pull you into a suffocating hug and you chuckled in return, wrapping your arms around her.

"Am I alright? I'm wonderful! Maybe a little tired, but for the first time in what feels like forever, I don't feel a constant ache in my bones. I can move without a stabbing pain in my side, I-I can get excited without doubling over! Oh, thank you!" She pulled away from you, her grin reaching from ear to ear. You couldn't help but share in her excitement.

"Anne!" Sebastian rushed toward her, enveloping her in what you can only assume is a long overdue hug. You turn your attention to Solomon, who sports a small hopeful smile as he nods at you. You return the gesture and glance back at the jar on the table. "Would you look at that ugly thing," Sebastian said, reaching his hand out. You quickly slapped it away, widening your eyes.

"Don't touch it! In this form it is extremely unpredictable, we can't risk anything." He nodded, pulling his hand away and smiling down at his sister again.

"I told you I'd never give up on you, didn't I?" He said, ruffling her hair slightly. She chuckled, shoving his hand away playfully. You quietly grab your things, deciding that it would be best to give them all a moment of peace together as a family. As you passed by Solomon, he muttered a small thank you in your direction. You gave him a nod in acknowledgement and a reassuring smile.

The cool air brushed against your face as you stepped outside, turning toward the Floo flame in order to make it to the Map Chamber without incident. You couldn't help but feel a small bit of pride in yourself. After all that's happened, one good thing could come out if. A part of you did still worry if Solomon would forget about Sebastian stepping into the Dark Arts or if he would still go as far as to report him to the Headmaster. You hoped, for the sake of them all, that he would let it go so long as Sebastian kept his promise to stop digging deeper into it.

"Y/N, wait!" Your turned to find Sebastian rushing to catch up to you. "I know you really need to get that... thing, back to the Keepers, but before you go, I was wondering if I could give you something?" His nervous demeanor caught your attention. What could Sebastian Sallow be nervous about now?

"You don't have to give me-"

"No, I do. I've been wanting to for a while, but I feel like it's right, now." You didn't respond, waiting for him to hand you some kind of sentimental trinket or odd item he'd found. He took a few steps closer to you, and you could tell how hesitant he was in the way his steps wobbled.

Your lips parted as you tried to speak, but his lips caught yours before words could form. His hand pressed against your cheek softly and your nose filled with the scent of his all too familiar cologne. The kiss was long overdue, and too short for your liking. He pulled away slowly, his eyelids heavy as he searched for any sign of regret or discomfort on your face. When you smiled shyly back at him, he knew he made the right decision.

"You never cease to surprise me, Sebastian Sallow."

"I can only hope you'll allow me to continue to do so." He smirked.

"I would love nothing more. I trust I'll find you in the Undercroft later?"

"I'll be waiting." As the two of you parted, you couldn't help but wonder if Anne had said something to Sebastian after you left that caused him to chase after you. Whatever had pushed him to do it, you were glad he did.

This might've been a little cheesy, but I needed to fulfill my dreams of Sebastian getting a happy ending :') that sweet boy deserves better and you will NOT change my mind. Hope you enjoyed!

[ishipgenfics]

What If Desire Captured Hob Gadling?

This is based on tattoed Dream by @designtheendless (although Morpheus doesn't have his tattoes quite yet in this) so if you want to see what Morpheus looks like once he gets his tattoo or you just like really good art, go check them out!

This is also kind of a prequel to another thing I wrote based on the tattoo au, so here's a link to that!

"Desire, stop this!" Dream shouted.

"Oh?" Desire said lightly, stepping closer. The screams of Hob Gadling rang out in the backround, a chorus to their conversation. "And what will you give me for that, brother dear?"

"Don't give 'em anything, Dream," Hob croaked. He let out a choked wheezing laugh. "I'll be fi-- aAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

The screams broke out again. And Dream-- Dream just couldn't.

Maybe he was foolish, and maybe he was mortal, but couldn't just stand there while the man he loved was tortured like this. Not if he could do something to prevent it.

"Anything," he said. He knew it was a mistake as soon as he said it, but as the screams instantly cut off, and Hob fell to the floor he couldn't bring himself to regret it. "Anything. Just stop."

Hob let out a groan, but then appeared to pass out.

Desire smiled. "Well then, Dream," they said. "Let's talk."

"What do you want from me?"

"So blunt. Well, if you insist." Desire paced circles, and Dream very suddenly felt like he was being hunted. "I am going to wipe your little... what is to you now? Did you ever admit he was your friend?"

"I did," Dream said.

"Oh." Desire seemed almost... disappointed. "Oh well, no matter. I'm going to wipe his memory."

Dream stopped breathing. He didn't technically need to breathe in the first place, but he'd gotten into the habit, and the effect of it stopping was very similar to what it would be on a mortal. Panic, and fear.

"You what?"

Desire's face split into a bright grin. This was better than they could have possibly imagined. "I'm going to wipe his memory, dearest brother," they said. "Or rather, his memories of you. He will still know he's immortal, but his stranger is a very pretty entity with golden eyes, who cruelly left him in 1889 and never came back." They leaned into Dream's face. "He will know you only a collague of his." Oh goodness, was he crying?

Dream frowned, confused. "But I do not work as a mortal professor." He shook his head and straightened himself up to his full height. "It matter not. I shall be on my way now, fair sibling, if you don't mind..."

Desire nimbly stepped in front of him. "Oh, I didn't say you could go yet."

"I paid the debt. I agreed to your terms."

"You said anything, dear Dream." Desire grinned. "That means anything."

"Very well. What else do you want from me?"

Desire's voice was like the hum of molten metal pouring. "I want to erase your memories too. You asked how Hob believing you are only his colleague would work? It's because as far as you know, that's all you will be."

"Who will run my kingdom? Who will watch over the dreamers? You would really justify the order of the universe just for a petty feud?"

"I think I've made it very clear that I would, Dream."

"And this is all?"

"Hmmm," Desire waved their hand in the air. "Maybe, maybe not."

"Desire, please. Even you cannot be this cruel." It grated at Dream's pride to beg, but in truth he had nothing left to lose.

Desire sighed, and Dream searched their eyes, hoping to pick up some sliver of sympathy in them. "Very well. If you somehow manage to get your power and memories back, this specific promise shall become null and void."

"Thank you."

"I'm only saying that because it's impossible!"

Dream smiled slightly, reminded of the days when him and Desire had been friends, and their teasing had been games and not plots to destroy the other. "I know." He bowed his head. "Just... make it quick?"

Desire cupped their hand around Dream's cheek, almost gently. "Goodbye, my brother."

The last thing that Dream of the Endless saw was Desire's golden eyes.

Morpheus woke up on the side of a road.

[k-chips]

With Evil!Clavell, are Sada/Turo still dead? Did he kill them instead of the feral Raidon? Also, I imagine the only reason they didn't try to get outside help with him was because he was essentially dangling Arven's safety over their heads. Like if they were still alive when Mabosstiff was attacked? "Well, I can't make any promises that he won't be the one harmed next time a "monster" attacks him. And he only tried coming down here to see you, the parent who abandoned him."

(Sorry it got kinda long, I took the opportunity to write some ideas down but I dunno if I’ll do more other than arts… you can ask anything toh, it could give me more ideas)

I don’t have much context for my personal Evil Clavell thing and the idea I have in mind for now is very different form @ameftowriter ‘s, which is very very cool, don’t get me wrong ahaha this isn’t a competition.

First of all I don’t like the figure of the Big Bad Guy That-Was-Behind-Everything-From-The-Start (that’s one of the reasons the last part of Naruto Shippuden really disappointed me) so no, in my Evil!Clavell au he’s not the reason of Sada/Turo’s death. It was an accident like in canon.

And maybe I’ll disappoint you all by saying this but I don’t see him as this big bastard that manipulates poor Sada/Turo. Sada/Turo is in Area Zero and stays there because they want to. They neglected Arven because they suck at parenting, that’s it. Clavell just used their obsession for the crater and its secretes, he took advantage of it.

Or, better, they both took advantage of each other. (I’m writing what comes to my mind at the moment, I’m practically improvising)

Like, they worked together for years, they talked about their interests and curiosity, the professor introduced Clavell to the Scarlet/Violet book and to the so told “treasure” inside the crater, Clavell impressed the professor with his knowledge and all these nerdy stuff… and so they made each other’s greed grow.

Sada/Turo wanted the paradox Pokemon while Clavell wanted to know every little secrets of the crater, exactly like the old emperors of Paldea.

Clavell let the professor works on their own projects because hey, as long as they dig inside the crater’s secrets, I’m good. Also because, as Raifort tell us, not everyone can enter Area Zero so Clavell can’t go down there at anytime like the professor. (He’s pretty jealous about it)

So if you want to know how I imagine an Evil Clavell, just follow Raifort’s history classes and look at the emperors. He would be like them just a less cruel, I guess? He doesn’t send people to die but he’s still ready to do everything to find out something new. He would be a Pokemon villain on the same level as Maxie, Archie and Rose but with Colress’ mindset.

Sada/Turo’s death is an unlucky accident he obviously feels bad about but, well, he’s still interested in the Area Zero. After some months of grief, where he left Area Zero and became director. he went down the crater again and reprogrammed the AI to follow his commands instead of those left by the professor, so that it could work for him while he was busy at the academy.

(Yes let’s say Sada/Turo still made the AI)

And he uses the treasure hunt to prepare and train as many students as possible to go into Area Zero and explore it. Similar to what the Emperors did in the past.

-

I love characters that are driven by their curiosity and their desire to know more and more things (Coff coff Orochimaru), who aren’t necessarily cruel and evil like the classic villains but are still ready to fight to defend their rights to KNOW. So this is the kind of writing I want for my Evil!Clavell

[weirdraccoon]

#9 please! <3

aahhh! didn't expect any haha. hope this is good. I worked on it since you asked and almost finished it on the bus on my way back home. it's kinda similar to this morning's adopted dark lord au post when i was feeling like shit, but i feel better now, a little less useless haha.

anyway, warning for emotional hurt?

also, I took liberties with the workings of a boggart, and there are spoilers for my fic that's a work in progress(?)

Mc is my Slytherin MC, I used her name

9. MC is about to face a boggart in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Write what happens when their attempt at the banishing spell doesn't work.

What you fear

Ishbel had witnessed a lot in her seventeen years. As such, she knew fear and also survival. She didn’t pretend to be a brave Gryffindor but she didn’t have a particular fear either. Not like Puffskein Dunkein or Mr. Moon who knew what they were afraid of and could easily name it and avoid it.

That was the main reason she was curious about the boggart lesson.

She spent the first half of the class wondering what she was most afraid of.

Spiders? Nah. Death? Not really. Her boyfriends’ lifeless bodies? Hum. 

While that could be heartbreaking and traumatic and probably triggering her to wholly turn dark, she didn’t think the boggart would pick that particular image.

And if it did, she wouldn’t be responsible for what she did to the creature.

Professor Hecat made them wait outside the classroom, claiming it to be a difficult lesson already, “there’s no need for an audience while facing your fears”. So, Ishbel, Sebastian, and Ominis rushed to sit on the sofa nearest to the classroom, laughing when Garreth and Leander fought for the couch on the other side.

Of the three of them, Ominis was first, and he came out with a troubled expression. Both his partners let out a sigh of relief when he said:

"I did it."

Sebastian kissed him, ignoring the catcalls from some of their classmates.

"I knew you would."

Ishbel grinned. She wouldn't prod, of course, and she was relieved that whatever Ominis saw he was able to repel.

Next was Sebastian, who also came out looking like he couldn't decide if he should grin at his accomplishment or be grim about whatever he saw.

"Guess neither of us knew what to expect?" Ominis asked.

"Not everyone's fear is as simple as a puffskein," Sebastian agreed. "Good luck, gorgeous."

Ishbel rolled her eyes at her extrovert boyfriend and squeezed the other's hand.

She walked into the classroom with unusual nerves. She felt anxious and couldn't yet imagine what she'd see.

How was she supposed to prepare a hilarious image if she didn't know what was supposed to change?

"Ready?" Professor Hecat asked with an encouraging smile. "No need to worry. I'll be here the whole time in case it goes wrong."

"Did any of the others fail yet?"

"Don't think about the others," Professor Hecat waved her off but also offered a small smile. "Between us, Mr. Hobhouse failed, and Mr. Prewett had to step back for a moment."

Ishbel winced.

"I'm ready," she breathed.

Professor Hecat flicked her wand, opening the wardrobe in the middle of the classroom.

Nothing stepped out. 

Professor Hecat frowned, confused, but stayed where she was, out of the boggart's way, near enough to examine and interfere if needed.

"What a disappointment," a voice said from the wardrobe. "Is this what you have become? Is this what that school turned you into? You'd be much better if you'd stay with me."

Ishbel tensed. She knew that voice. She often had dreams- nightmares about the owner of that voice.

"Father," she whispered.

Was he her worst fear? Really?

Well, she could agree with one thing: what a disappointment.

However, out of the wardrobe didn't come her father. The boggart, probably sensing it wasn't having the expected reaction, changed before finally stepping out.

She stepped out.

Or a version of herself, one that wore her father's old colors and a twisted smile instead of her usual teasing smirk.

Ishbel knew, theoretically, that boggarts could read the mind. Kind of. That's how they knew your worst fear. However, she often forgot that boggarts could also plant things in your mind. Sounds. Fake memories.

Especially if the victim was weak, or weakened enough by what they showed at the beginning.

Ishbel, taken back, let herself open to a mental attack.

Her mind was full of images of blood and torture and her ancient magic causing death and destruction. She saw herself standing next to the man that practically kidnapped her and trained her as his weapon. She saw Ominis and Sebastian hating her because she was evil and dark and tainted and she didn't care because all she needed was her father and her father wanted the world and power and she'd give it to him no matter what.

“You disappoint everyone who knows you. What would Professor Fig say? He died knowing you made the wrong decision. He expected better of you. And you let him down. You let everyone down. Including yourself.”

"Ishbel!" Professor Hecat pushed her behind her, and Ishbel blinked, coming out of the trance she was in, still hearing the echo of her own voice.

She noticed her nose was bleeding and the boggart was now a silly puppet with strings in place of arms.

Professor Hecat was watching her carefully.

"That was… unusual," she observed. "Seems like this boggart was holding back with your classmates. Why it acted like that with you, I don't know."

Ishbel knew. Ishbel knew that ever since she took it for herself, creatures, artifacts and even some spells had a weird effect on her. The magic was calling them. Tempting them to bond and take and become one with the energy they were essentially made of.

"Go," Professor Hecat nodded to the door. "I'll find another way to grade you. Or maybe you could try again later? Come see me when you're ready."

Ishbel nodded numbly and walked out of the room.

She ignored her boyfriends' calls, making her way to the Undercroft in silence.

"Ishbel, what-

Ominis interrupted Sebastian with an elbow to the ribs. He approached Ishbel slowly, his wand pulsing slower than usual as if calming her.

"What do you need?" Ominis asked softly.

Sebastian, still rubbing his ribs, stood next to Ominis, waiting for her instructions with an impatient air around him.

Ishbel kept silent, enjoying the sight of her serene boyfriend next to her energetic boyfriend. They were so very different but also so much alike.

And they loved her.

Didn't they?

"Just," she spoke and flinched at hearing how her voice cracked. "Hold me."

Sebastian jumped to action as soon as the words left her mouth. In a blink, she found herself on the sofa she transfigured a year before. Sebastian pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her body, making her practically lay on his chest.

Ominis sighed before following at a slower pace. He sat next to them, taking one of her hands in his and kissing her knuckles and her fingers.

“I don’t know what happened in there,” he said suddenly, voice calm and reassuring. “What you saw. But just know that I am very proud of you.”

Her breath hitched, and Sebastian tightened his hold around her.

“You’re incredible, darling,” Sebastian whispered. “You make us both proud.”

Ishbel let a couple of tears fall, burying her face in Sebastian’s shirt. She tried to tell herself that the boggart lied. That it was simply doing what it did best. That it showed her fear and not reality.

But its voice- her voice was still echoing inside her mind, calling her worthless.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 I || professor!helmut zemo x reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : history is so much more interesting when he’s teaching it.  you’d better be careful before the two of you end up with a history of your own.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 6k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (incl. semi-public sex in an office and oral f receiving), significant age gap (reader is 20, zemo is 39; it isn’t actually mentioned though but it comes up in the next part), the slightest bit of angst?, nearly pwp at this point lol

                                    You wouldn’t know it by the way you were enraptured with his lecture, but you weren’t even a history major.  

Quite far from it, really, well outside of the college of liberal arts, and yet here you were in the front row, watching him gesture over a large map of Western Europe while he explained the sociocultural impacts of the Treaty of Versailles.

It was probably pretty obvious why you took such interest in all this, though.  After all, you were the only one who dressed as well as he did, your blazers and skirts and loafers standing out amongst a sea of hoodies and sweats and flip-flops; and, you were the only one who paid close attention and yet never seemed to be taking any notes…

Why would you, after all?  Looking away to write in your notebook would mean missing out on all the fun, and unfortunately you had found that when you copied down the words he spoke, his accent was not retained in writing.

Some kid in the back of the class had asked about his accent the first day; you thought it was kind of a rude question, if you were being honest, but he didn’t seem to mind too much (if perhaps a bit surprised that anyone cared).  He explained he was from a small country called Sokovia, but that his accent was a bit unique since he spoke Russian, German, Spanish, and Italian as well.

Because of course he did.  Like he was specifically designed to target all your weaknesses.

“Well, I could talk about that for the rest of the evening but I’ll spare you all and let you out a bit early today, how does that sound?” Professor Zemo offered.  The other students weakly cheered, a few claps here and there as you heard binders shutting and backpacks being zipped, but you were disappointed.  You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, all you were going to do there was think about him anyways.

Damn, I’ve really got it bad, you thought to yourself, shaking your head as you stood up and gathering your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder.  You glanced up at the podium where another student was chatting with Professor Zemo, and either he said something really funny or she was trying way too hard to flirt with him.  You rolled your eyes, irritated by the display and yet envious of her audacity to just go up there and talk to him.  Imagine having a crush and actually being able to look them in the eye and hold a conversation; you could barely do that with people you didn’t happen to find attractive.

Just as you were about to make it out the door, you heard your name and spun around.  You were shocked to realize it was the Professor trying to get your attention.  If only you’d thought to pretend you hadn’t heard him.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” he requested, motioning you over with two curled fingers.  With a swallow and a nod, you stepped out of the flow of students exiting into the hallway and approached the desk at the front of the room.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I just wanted to discuss your most recent paper, if you have some time,” he explained, and your heart sunk.  Of course it was garbage, you’d written the whole thing last minute during a near-all-nighter.  “I still have the copy you turned in here in my bag.”

“Right, of course— sure,” you nodded.  By now the classroom was empty spare for the two of you, your words echoing slightly; presumably that was intentional, since these places were built for acoustics, but it made you worry you’d have to hear whatever criticism he had for you multiple times.

He pulled out the slightly-wrinkled paper and took his glasses off of his vest to wear (fuck, did he have to wear the glasses, just to personally attack you?) as he glanced over the top page before folding it over the staple.

“This essay,” he continued, “it’s—”

Ridiculous.  Idiotic.  A blight on humanity and a waste of printer ink.

“Fascinating,” he finished, surprising you.  “After I read it, I searched your student profile on my office computer—”

You gulped, trying not to take that as a compliment.

“I’m looking at your information and I’m seeing you aren’t even a history major— is this a mistake, when it says your major is computer science?”

“No, that’s my major,” you nodded.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he decided, “because you have some really interesting ideas in here, clearly you must have studied history before.”

“I mean, not really,” you shrugged.  “I didn’t even care that much about history until, you know, you...r class,” you finished quickly, realizing it sounded too odd otherwise.

And that smile, the way he looked down at the floor suddenly, was he blushing?  “Thank you.  I’m always… glad to inspire.”

If only you knew everything you’d inspired in me, Professor.

“If you didn’t care about history, what would motivate you to register for an honors history seminar?” he asked suddenly.  

“Well…” you trailed off, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck as you dodged his gaze.

“It couldn’t possibly be because I’m teaching it,” he realized.

“I came to your talk last year, the one you did about the Sokovian civil war,” you finally admitted, letting out a lungful of air as you said it and looking up at him sheepishly.

“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, that might make a bit more sense.  But we still haven’t found the real reason, have we?”  His eyebrow raised slightly and you felt like he was toying with you— but you liked it, the shiver that ran up your spine made that obvious.  “Because the question remains of what would possess a computer science student to take time out of her busy schedule on a Friday night— if I recall the night correctly— to listen to some stuffy visiting scholar talk about a bloody war in a country she may not have even heard of before.”

“My friend brought me,” you defended.

“Under what guise?” he pressed.

“She… may have mentioned something about… a cute professor with a sexy accent…” you stammered, cringing slightly as you spared a glance back up at him.  He was staring back at you with the most bewildering expression.  His eyes said ‘you thought I was cute?’, and yet his smile said ‘I knew it.’

“You must’ve been horribly disappointed when I took the stage,” he finally replied, voice a bit lower, softer, not echoing around the room anymore.  

“Not at all,” you returned, almost below your breath now, and suddenly you became very aware that you were standing too close to him, but you couldn’t move away, you couldn’t even look away anymore.  “I’m here, aren’t I?  Taking your class?”

“And you make it nearly impossible to focus, did you know that?  I swear your eyes never leave me, I can feel them on me.  It’s quite unfair, because I can’t stare back at you no matter how much I want to.”

Just as you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes, which seemed to be following a similar pattern on your own face, just when you thought this might be it and you were about to do something you really shouldn’t (but really wanted to), you heard the door open behind you and you spun around so fast you nearly hurt your neck.

“Oh,” the man in the doorway mumbled, apparently surprised to see you enough to nearly drop the papers tucked under his arm.  “I’m teaching the next class in here— Honors History of Islam?”

“Professor Waters, yes, my apologies,” Zemo nodded, “we were just… our discussion ran a bit long, we’ll get out of your way.”

You and Zemo awkwardly gathered your things and made a dash for the door as the older professor took his place at the podium.  Once the two of you were out in the hall, you let out a sigh and gave each other a glance, like you were each waiting for the other to either acknowledge or ignore what had just (almost) happened.

“I have my next class across campus in a half hour,” he remembered suddenly, lifting his arm and pulling back the brown sleeve of his coat to look at his watch.  

“Right, you should… get to that,” you nodded.

“Walk with me?” he proposed, and you hoped your smile wasn’t as beaming as it felt.  

“I’d love to.”

So maybe you ended up skipping your evening class to sit in the back of his History of England course.  And, perhaps, he ended that one early, too, this time to buy you coffee at the student center; and your discussion ended up going on so long that the coffee shop closed and you had to go to his office to finish the conversation.

But, in a certain sense, it could be argued that you never really got a chance to finish that conversation after all… because a few moments after he shut the door to his office, you, for lack of a better term, jumped his bones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips as you pulled him closer by his jacket, “we can’t do this.”

You nodded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck.  “Mhm, yeah, you’re right,” you agreed breathlessly.

His hands took their place at your waist as you both stepped back, the back of your legs bumping into his desk which you jumped up slightly to sit on.

“I mean, we really can’t do this,” he continued, kissing your neck instead now while your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt riding up slightly, your fingers fumbling with the buttons on his collar.  “I want to, overwhelmingly so, but we can’t.”

“I know,” you sighed; your head fell back when his teeth grazed over your pulse, and his hand was right there to catch it and hold it up, gripping the back of your neck.

“This absolutely cannot happen,” he groaned when your legs pulled him closer, something hard and hot pressing up against your thigh through his trousers and you were really hoping it wasn’t just his cell phone.

Then he rocked his hips, just barely, and you felt the outline of the ridge of his head and it was definitely not his phone unless he had the most suggestively-shaped phone case of all time.  You gasped and grabbed his face to kiss him again, shamelessly desperate now, weaving your fingers into the hair just above the back of his neck.

By now you had managed to get a few of his buttons open so when you slid your fingers down from time to time, they ran over his chest and the patch of dark blonde hair there.  Funny enough, you couldn’t remember having any strong opinions on chest hair before this afternoon, but now you felt your walls fluttering around nothing.  

He helped you shed your blazer just before tossing his own coat aside, never breaking the kiss, holding your face gently while he pushed you down to lay on his desk— he reached behind you to clear a few stray papers out of the way first.  

Your back hit the glossy wood and his weight pinned you down, rough hands sliding up your legs and under your skirt as you tried to push your hips up for more friction where you needed him most.

He pushed your hips back down, not too roughly but definitely enough to get your attention, before sliding his hands up your skirt again where he toyed with the hem of your panties.

You wanted to say something, more specifically you wanted to beg him to touch you, but you had this fear that if you spoke now it would all become real and he would stop because, as he had so poignantly noted, this can’t happen.  And both of you knew that… so maybe it would be easier to let it happen if neither of you really acknowledged it.

Luckily, he didn’t tease you too long, reaching under the fabric and swiping the rough pads of his fingers over your slickened folds.  You choked on your gasp, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulders when he drew delicate circles around your clit.  All at once, he suddenly pushed those fingers right inside you and your back arched; you needed so much more than just his fingers but the way they twisted and curled against your walls was nearly perfect as well.  

They didn’t stay long, quickly pulling back as you watched him quickly open his trousers just before you felt the head of him pushing up to your entrance.

His eyes met yours, dark with need, yet somehow clearly asking you for permission, making sure this was what you wanted: and fuck, you wanted it more than anything.  The moment that you nodded, he began to push forward— slow and deliberate, but unyielding.  

Perhaps as a perfect healthy college student in a male-dominated major, you had no real excuse for it to have been so long since you’d had sex.  As you liked to put it: dating as a woman in computer science means the odds are good but the goods are odd.  Truth be told, you weren’t sure at this point if having had sex any time in the past year would’ve prepared you for him anyway.  It felt like he was forging a new path inside you— certainly a wider one than anyone else ever had since he was so thick.  

With his hips fully seated against yours, the tip of his cock just reached the end of you, just barely brushed over those sensitive spots you didn’t even know you had before.

It stung a bit to be filled this thoroughly, so it was no wonder you were biting down on your lip hard enough to bruise it, your fingers clutching at his shirt tightly.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered, finally breaking the silence, voice strained like he was struggling just as much as you were (though in an entirely different way).

“A little,” you admitted.  “Please don’t stop.”

He groaned a few curses as he started to move back, and forth, and so slow you could hardly stand it.  

“Fuck,” you breathed, “oh my god, harder, please…”

A little smile crossed his face, a sharp exhale almost like a laugh, and it made your cheeks burn even hotter than they already were.  But, he obeyed, regardless, more aggressive in his movements yet not any faster as he held your hips to keep you from sliding across the desk’s glossy wood surface.

Your moans were starting to echo around the office’s beige walls at this point, and he snarled as he bit down on your neck.  “You need to stay quiet,” he hissed in your ear.  “Can you do that for me?  Can you stay quiet even when I’m making you feel so good?”

“I-I’m trying,” you whimpered, “your cock is… so deep…”

“Oh, I know,” he cooed, voice heavy with faux pity, “poor thing, you can’t take it?”

“No!” you yelped.  “I can take it!  Please, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t have to if you stay quiet, darling, we can’t have somebody hearing you now can we?” he chuckled, licking and sucking at your pulse point as your eyes rolled back in your head.  “We can’t have somebody hearing you cry for me, and coming in here, and seeing you laying on my desk getting fucked by your professor, right?”

What the hell was wrong with you that that idea actually turned you on?  Why did it actually make you want to moan louder until everyone could hear you?

And when his cock speared right against that spongy spot inside you, you did exactly that and he had to suddenly clamp his hand down over your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, “you’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Your attempts at apologies were totally incomprehensible with his hand over your mouth, not that they were likely to have made much sense either way.

Blinking your eyes shut, your legs began to quiver slightly as he rutted into you, your toes curling inside your loafers.  You felt so full you could hardly stand it, stretched so wide that you were forced to feel every detail of his cock as it filled you.  Already your walls were bearing down on him; you couldn’t help it, it was like your body was just his instrument now and instinct had taken control of your movements.  

His accent was definitely stronger now as he whispered in your ear, praising you gruffly.  You knew from the beginning that you loved high marks and encouragement from your teachers, but this… this was different, and you hadn't known how much it would affect you.

"Good girl," he breathed, "you're taking me so well, draga, you feel so perfect around me."

You whined from behind his hand and he chuckled at your obvious neediness.

"You like making me feel good, darling?" he presumed, his smile pressing against your neck between nipping kisses to your pulse point.  "You like knowing that I can barely take this tight cunt gripping me so well, that I'm already addicted to your precious body and want to fill it with my seed?"

With your eyes rolling back in your head you nodded feverishly, heavy in your state of total delirium as he pumped his cock deep into you over and over.

You reached up to try to pull his hand away from your mouth, and he met your gaze with fire in his eyes.

“If I take my hand away, will you be good?” he challenged, and you nodded feverishly.  He was a bit hesitant but slowly moved his hand down, and though you did have to keep biting your lip, you managed to restrain yourself.

Every drag of the ridge of his head inside you was somehow more intense than the last, somehow hitting right at your spot and it was like each rough thrust knocked his name out of your mind and onto your lips until you were chanting it like a prayer, or a plea.

And each time you said it, he fucked you harder, snarling and whispering your name back to you a few times, in between little praises; "Beautiful," he mumbled, "such a sweet little girl… such a perfect cunt."

“I— fuck, I’m gonna—” you stammered your warning.  

“Will you come for me?” he finished for you, and you nodded quickly.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you hissed.

It was obvious just by the build-up that you were going to come hard, pleasure tightening in your core until you were sure that it would spill over but it just kept going, making you wonder if it would ever reach the breaking point.

And oh boy did it, it slammed into you in fact, and your legs quivered as you struggled for air.  He growled in your ear, fucking you harder through it all, stroking every place that had only become even more sensitive.  The moment you could form words again, you were wasting the ability on a string of swears and promises you couldn’t keep.

“Yours, fuck, it’s yours,” you sobbed.  He chuckled a little, pulling back to examine your face which must have given away how fucked-out and cockdrunk you were already.

“Say it again,” he demanded darkly, holding you tighter, fucking you a bit more deliberately though not any less aggressively.

“Yours,” you gasped, cut off by a rough and dominating kiss.  Your moans were lost to his tongue but he didn’t need them to know you were coming, the way your body gripped him tighter than ever was sign enough.

“So good,” he whispered against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me…”

His words washed over your skin and soothed you like a salve, bringing some relief from the overwhelming feelings his body was assaulting yours with.

All things considered, he was still moving rather slowly, each of his thrusts measured and patient, and never really changing speed even as you were coming around him.  Weak little cries fell from your throat each time his hips met yours and the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of you.

Your body went limp in his arms and you hadn't noticed before how good it felt for him to hold you, for his strong hands to support you like it was nothing.  His thumb gently stroked your back through your shirt and you mewled weakly into his shoulder.

"So good, draga, so fucking good," he mumbled, holding you closer.

"Please… faster," you whimpered, "I want you to come."

"Is that what you want?" he taunted, ignoring the way you nodded immediately.  "You want to make me come, darling?"

"Yes, please, want it so much," you gasped.

He finally sped up, though it was still nothing like the lightning-speed jackhammering you were used to from guys your age: it was better, certainly, especially when he lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed so deep you saw stars.

The second one seemed to hit you all at once, almost out of nowhere, and you heard yourself mumble, “Professor, I’m coming.”  It sounded a bit pitiful, the way you said it, but he apparently didn’t mind as you felt him nod encouragingly in the crook of your neck.

You felt totally drained by now, exhausted even though all you’d been doing was lying there and taking it, but you knew he wasn’t done with you yet.  But, if the way his thrusts were becoming more desperate and erratic were anything to go by, he might be done with you soon.

"I'm going to come inside you," he groaned against your ear.  You were, like, 99.9% sure that if you told him not to, he would pull out, but the way that he phrased it, like a demand, like you didn't have a choice and he would do it either way… it had an effect on you, one he noticed when your channel tightened around him instantly.  "Oh, you like that idea, hm?  You want to be full of my come?  Your sweet little cunt is already trying to milk every drop from me."

"Yes," you breathed, "fuck, I want your come in me, please!"

He sped up quite a bit then, each slam of his hips into yours making you choke on a whine, your arms weakly clinging onto him for dear life.

You could feel his cock swelling, flexing, pushing your body to its limits as he moaned lowly through his teeth, streams of come making you feel warm and full.

He didn't stop until every drop was in you, thrusting in time with each pump of his release until he slowed to a stop.

Strands of hair fell into his face as he hung his head, panting hard and fast.  You melted back onto the desk, realizing this might be the first time in a solid half hour your back wasn’t arched.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep your eyes open against the heavy fog of afterglow that filled your mind; you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so… satiated.  As a college student, you were always thinking about the next assignment, mentally re-evaluating your calendar, or preparing for something— and usually all on less than six hours of sleep.

But now your mind was as close to a blank slate as it had been in at least a decade.  Even though you probably should’ve been, you weren’t even thinking about the potential consequences of this, the implications, the risks.  No, you were just staring up at him, thinking about kissing him again.

He would have to lean down for that, though; there was no way you were going to sit up now.

You hadn't even noticed that you had closed your eyes, almost falling asleep right there on his desk, until you felt his hand cradle your face softly, a calloused thumb rubbing over your cheek.

In unison, the both of you sighed deeply.

As much as it felt like a real effort, you blinked open your eyes and looked up at him, watching him comb his fingers through his hair.  It only messed up the style even further yet he looked better than ever.

He slowly moved his hips back, leaving you annoyingly empty, and readjusted himself until he almost looked put together again… but his collar was still uneven and his lips still looked bitten and there was still that precious pinkish hue on his cheeks.  If anyone else saw him in this state, they’d either know what happened between you two or think he’d just run across campus or something.

If anyone else saw him in this state, you’d be a little jealous, to be totally honest.

You got back to work trying to right your appearance as well, though you knew the best you could hope for was only mildly presentable; he looked at you like you’d never looked better, though.

“Well, this was fun,” you chuckled breathlessly, “but it’s getting pretty late and I have an eight a.m. tomorrow…”

“Yeah, so do I,” he nodded, glancing away.  

You picked up your bag from where you’d dropped it by the door, lifting the strap over your shoulder and starting to turn to leave.

"I… I should walk you back to your dorm," he announced, making you smile.

"That's sweet, but save your chivalry.  I can take care of myself just fine."

"But—"

"I think it's safer if we're not seen together walking together by my dorm," you interjected, "especially when I'm walking a little funny…"

"I hope I didn't hurt you," he winced sympathetically.

"No, trust me, that was… exactly what I needed," you breathed.  He smiled a little, looking down at the floor.

"Then I'll see you in class," he nodded, watching you closely as you stepped back and picked up your bag, starting to leave his office with one last small wave goodbye.  “Wait, wait!” he whispered harshly just before you could let go of his door, and you giggled as he leaned out into the hall and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.  

When he confirmed the coast was clear, he smiled and grabbed your face with one hand, pulling you into a sudden kiss.  And you smiled too— you couldn’t help it— as you kissed him back, almost ready for him to drag you back into that office and start this all over again.  He did let you go, though, with one more whispered ‘goodnight’ and a look that made your heart do little somersaults.

As you finally did make your way back to your dorm, you tried to figure out if that was a goodbye kiss or a ‘see you soon’ kiss.  Or maybe a ‘thanks for the one-time office quickie’ kiss?  But you didn’t know enough about this sort of thing to know if that was even an option.

All you did know was that you really hoped it wasn’t the last kiss you’d have with him.

Can I speak to you in my office today after class?  Thank you.

-Z

You may ask yourself: can one simple email, in only thirteen words, strike fear into the hearts of those who read it?  And the answer is yes, assuming that email is from Professor Helmut Zemo and read by the lovestruck student who slept with him two days ago and hasn't stopped thinking about it since.

Only one of a few things could happen in his office after class, and there was a massive gap between the best and worst case scenarios.  You dressed for the best but prepared yourself psychologically for the worst.

You caught him staring as you walked past the teaching podium to your seat in the front; you just hoped nobody else caught him.  And if you'd thought paying attention in class was tough before, boy oh boy was it a challenge now.  The nerves of what he wanted to discuss with you were bad enough alone, but that combined with memories from two days earlier randomly assaulting your psyche was just overwhelming.

When he pointed at the map with two fingers, you could remember exactly how those fingers had felt inside you, twisting and curling and getting you ready for his cock.

When he spoke, you could hear the difference in his voice compared to how he groaned out his praises while he was fucking you within a damn inch of your life.

And every once in a while, when he couldn’t help but glance at you for a moment, his gaze burned right through you; you were helpless to those brown eyes, completely paralyzed by them, and it must’ve been hours of that before class finally ended.

For the first time, you were the first person out the door when he released the class.  As much as it was going to be a little bit weird to beat him to his office, it was certainly better than any of your other options.  There was a chair in the hall beside the door, and you took a seat and pretended to read a book just to look busy (there was no way you could actually turn symbols on a page into readable language right now, not when you knew he’d be here any minute to talk about… something).

Your peripheral caught him coming down the hall, but you pretended to be deeply immersed in your book until he was right beside you, unlocking his door and opening it for you and himself.  Tucking your book away and following him inside, you found him already staring at you, expression completely unreadable.  Your gut sank in anticipation of whatever conversation this was going to become, and a moment passed in heavy silence.

"Hi," you greeted plainly, letting out a quick breath.

"Hi," he returned.  "Close the door behind you."

You nodded and did as you were told, quietly pushing the wood back until the door latched before approaching where he had come to stand beside his desk.  Though you didn't originally intend to, you found yourself standing a bit too close.

"I'm not quite sure where to start," he admitted, chuckling breathlessly as he reached up to rub the back of his neck.  He looked cute flustered, which was a shame because his tone seemed to imply you needed to not be thinking about how cute he was.  “Listen, you should know that what happened before… it was a mistake,” he sighed.  “It can’t happen again.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked point-blank.

“It can’t happen again,” he repeated in lieu of a real answer, and you looked closely at his face; you didn’t find as much confidence there as you were looking for, it wasn’t the face of a man who knew he was making the right choice.  You certainly didn’t think he was making the right choice.

“Why did you want to have this conversation alone in your office, then?” you challenged.

He cleared his throat slightly.  “So no one would hear us.”

“Hear us talk?” you pressed.  “Is that all?”

“That’s… definitely the plan,” he nodded, swallowing dryly.  "Like I said, it was a mistake— my fault, not yours.  And I just hope we can put it behind us respectfully."

“All the best mistakes are made at least twice,” you whispered, reaching up to trail your finger down his lapel.  “Don’t you think?”

“Don’t do that,” he requested tensely.

"Do what?"

"That," he hissed.  "Stop being… irresistible," he clarified, eyes darting from your lips to your finger to your eyes and back again.  "A man can only take so much.  I'm trying to do right by you."

"You already did when you fucked me that good," you smirked.  "Nothing else could be as right as that."

Your fingers were just barely brushing over his belt when he grabbed you by the wrist.  Jaw tight and eyes solemn, he shook his head.

You wrenched out of his grasp with a nod.  It was worth a shot, but you didn't want to be that person who couldn't take no for an answer— so, you gave him a little smile and readjusted the strap of your bag.  “Well, if it was just the once, then you should know that I’m still glad it happened.  Even if it shouldn’t have.”

He nodded, strategically not speaking— but you knew he would agree, if he could.

“And if it’s any consolation to you now, you were the best I ever had.”

You reached for the doorknob, just starting to turn it and open your way out when he suddenly slammed it shut with a hand right above your head, making you gasp and spin around to look up at his dark gaze.

“Professor…” you whispered.

“The best you ever had?” he repeated, grinning proudly when you nodded.  “Oh, sweetheart, I wasn’t even trying.”  He leaned down to brush his lips against your ear as he whispered to you: “You don’t even know yet how good I can make you feel.”

A shiver ran up your spine; your tongue darted out to lick your lips.  “Are you going to get on with it and show me?”

He didn’t even let you step away from the door, dropping to his knees right there and pushing up your skirt to kiss and bite your thighs.  “Only if you ask very nicely,” he taunted with a brow raised in challenge.

“Please,” you breathed, “fuck, please, want you to taste me.”

His hands slid up your legs, grabbing the hem of your panties before sliding back down.

It wasn’t like you’d never been eaten out before, but this still felt like a first considering your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties were pulled down to your ankles, and even just one slow lick over your folds made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.

“F-fuck,” you choked, reaching down to weave your fingers into his hair.  He grinned against your skin and kept going, exploring you carefully before finally sucking on your swollen clit.  Your knees threatened to buckle, your head fell back against the door so hard it almost hurt, but all you could really feel was his mouth on you, moving like he knew your body better than you did.

So it was no wonder, then, that you already began to spiral towards your release, legs shaking around his head as he devoured you mercilessly.

"Oh my god, I—" you tried to warn him, but he already knew, and he pulled back to wipe his mouth with his sleeve and stand up.  He grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, stopping to whisper to you so close that his lips brushed against yours.

"I'm sorry, draga, but you've spoiled me… now that I've felt you come around my cock, I can't imagine making you come any other way.  I need to feel your cunt grip me so fucking tight… it's all I've been thinking about since I last saw you," he admitted.

"I thought about it, too," you sighed.  "I was up all night trying to make myself come as good as you did but I couldn't… your come was still leaking out of me."

He growled and leaned in to nip at your ear.  "Oh, poor thing… I can imagine it so easily, you laying in your bed with your legs spread, fingers getting exhausted from playing with your little pussy too much, these perfect lips whining for me because you need me to take care of you."

"H-Helmut, please," you whimpered.  

"Yeah, something like that," he smirked.

"I can't wait any more, just fuck me.  Need you inside me," you breathed.

"Then bend over my desk."

{part 2}

[sunrisefairy]

My muse

Pairing: Art student!Sirius x reader Warning: NSFW! MDNI 18+, swearing, fingering, unprotected sex, if I’ve forgotten anything please let me know! Summary: Sirius is struggling with an art assignment until he finds inspiration in his girlfriend. Or the one when Sirius and reader bang on a canvas.  A/N: wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen writing challenge, I had a lot of fun with this one Jill so I hope you enjoy it too. Based of the prompt Art Sex. This article is helpful with visualising the art work!

Taglist: if you’re crossed out i couldn’t tag you @theweasleyslut​ @anxiousblanketqueen​ @accioweaslcy​ @widowdays​ @inglourious-imagines​ @garbdump​ @star-sunshine-sage​ @weelittleweasley​ @a-dusty-emerald​ @starlightkell​ @omghufflepuff​ @weasleysprincess​ @j-amespotter​ @gryffindorgirl To be added to the taglist click here 

“Oh my god this is fucking bullshit!” Sirius groans before throwing his paint brush, it landing with a clatter on the hardwood floor of his art studio.

You hear all the commotion from the kitchen and decided to check in on your boyfriend. It was nearing the end of the term and Sirius had been very agitated and snappy from all the stress.

“You okay babe?” you poke your head through the door to see Sirius standing in the middle of the room, practically death staring a half-finished painting resting on one of his wooden easels.

“Fucking bullshit,” your boyfriend mumbles, clenching and unclenching his paint stained hands.

You slowly walk up to him and wind your arms around his waist and kissing his back through his white cotton t-shirt, “wanna talk to me about it?” you whisper.

Sirius twists in your grip until he’s facing you allowing you to get a good look at him; his shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched tightly from the pressure of school and his eyebrows are furrowed which has become a regular facial expression of him the past few weeks. You reach your hand up and delicately trace the worry lines in his forehead. Sirius immediately relaxes at your touch; his faces becomes more natural and his shoulders slump. Since dating Sirius you’ve come to understand how much he struggles to talk about his feelings. He doesn’t like dumping his problems on those around him as it makes him feel like a burden. So you try your best to be patient with him and always remind him you’ll be here no matter what.

“Just stressed about school,” Sirius murmurs his eyes looking down at the floor between your bodies.

You let your hand fall down to his shoulders, lightly squeezing, “yeah? What about school?”

Sirius’ hands find their way under the t-shirt you’re wearing which evidently is one of his that you’ve stolen, he lets his fingers trace patterns on your warm skin. “Just this one assignment is making me go insane. Can’t seem to get it right.” He gestures to the canvas sitting in the middle of the room.

If you’re being honest, anything Sirius paints leaves you memorised and evokes numerous emotions from you. You are constantly telling your boyfriend how talented he is and every time he’ll roll his eyes at your compliment. “I think it looks amazing babe,” you state truthfully.

To no surprise, Sirius rolls his eyes at your comment. “yes, well you have to say that ‘cos you’re my girlfriend.”

Sirius leaves your embrace and walks back over to the painting, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning so intensely you think laser beam might shoot from his eyes and through this artwork. He starts mumbling again, irritation is laced thickly on his words, “representation of raw love,” he mocks, “what a load of utter crap. My professor is so pretentious, the only instruction he gives us for this stupid bloody assignment is ‘make a piece which represents raw love’ what does that even mean? I’ll tell you what it is, it’s fucking bullshit.”

You shuffle closer to Sirius so you’re standing at his side, both staring at his current piece. You’re not really sure how to help, you’re no artist but you hate seeing Sirius so worked up. “What are other people in your class doing for the assignment? Maybe you can gather inspiration from them?”

Sirius shrugs and stuffs his hands in his dark jeans which are covered in paint splatters, “Kirra’s doing a photography piece of her husband and kids, Gage is making some sculpture of his dog.”

“Alright,” you pause for a brief moment “well maybe think of ways people show love or how you show love, like real emotional love ya’know?” you feel like you’re grasping at straws here and making up some bullshit.

You glance over at Sirius, he’s biting his bottom lip deep in thought, you stay silent not really knowing what else to say to assist him. Slowly a look of realisation washes over your boyfriend’s face, eyes wide and a grin gracing his lips. “Holy shit baby, you’re a genius!”

Butterflies erupt deep in your belly from the praise and you giggle when Sirius starts peppering your face with tiny kisses to show his gratitude. Eventually he connects your lips together in what you thought would be a short but sweet kiss. However, you squeak in surprise when Sirius quickly deepens the kiss, his hands gripping tightly at your waist before slowly moving them down to grope at your arse.

“You should probably get working on your project then Sirius,” you breathe against his mouth, disappointed to stop things before they get too heated but you know Sirius’ inspiration comes and goes in waves and if you wait until after the two of you get off, then he might fall back into feeling unmotivated again.

“I am working on it,” you pull away confusion all over your face.

“What do you mean?” you query.

Sirius chuckles and moves away from you to move the canvas and easel to the edge of the room out of the way, he starts laying out a large piece of cream canvas fabric on the floor. “Think about it, what’s a way people show love?” he asks you, squirting numerous colours of paint carelessly onto the fabric.

“Babe there’s a lot of way people show love,” you answer puzzled, what did making out with you have to do with his piece? And why was he now squirting colours onto a blank canvas.

Sirius continues, “yes I know that but what about a raw, emotional way people show love? a primal way to show love so to speak?”

When you finally look back up at Sirius’ face you’re met with a cheeky smirk that you know all too well. It’s not until he removes his shirt do you connect the dots. “Sirius I’m not letting you fuck me on this canvas for a university project for god’s sake.”

The raven-haired boy’s grin only widens as he slowly moves closer to you, his eyes burning into your skin. You feel hot and vulnerable under his gaze, it’s like he’s stalking his prey. Your breath hitches in your throat when Sirius’ body is pressed flush against your own and you can feel his hot breath fanning your face as he speaks in a low, hushed tone, “I’m not going to fuck you,” his voice drops an octave like it does when he’s feeling horny. Just the tone of his voice alone causes a wetness to pool in your panties. “Wanna make love to you baby. Wanna show you how much I love you, can I do that darlin’?”

You bite your lip trying to swallow the moan that is threatening to spill from your mouth when Sirius starts leaving sloppy kisses on your neck. Damn Sirius Black for knowing all your weak spots.

“Just want to make you feel good baby girl,” he tugs the off t-shirt your body. “Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?”

You close your eyes and focus on Sirius’ large hands cupping and massaging your breasts tenderly, you always were putty in his hands. Fuck it you thought. “Yes, please make love to me Sirius.”

The boy grins and whispers a thank you against your skin. He takes no time in removing both of your clothes until you’re standing in front of each other naked. You and Sirius take the opportunity to study each other. You gaze over all the curves and lines on Sirius’ body, the way his muscle flex and move, the freckle on his hip bone, the tiny scar on his left shoulder, the coarse hair of his happy trail. He was beautiful, stunning, breathtaking. And he was all yours.

Sirius helps you lay down against the canvas, you gasp at the cold, squishy feeling of the paint beneath you. It feels foreign but not unwelcoming, you wriggle a little, enjoying the way the substance slides around. Sirius kneels between your legs, relishing in the way your chest is already rising and falling frantically from arousal, “so gorgeous darlin,” he traces a finger down from your collar bone all the way to your core finding it soaked already.

You squirm when Sirius teases your entrance with his finger, the cold paint moving and mixing into the canvas under you. A quiet whine escapes your lips the moment Sirius pushes his index finger inside you and starts pumping it steadily.

“Need you to be loud for me baby, want to know how good I make you feel ‘kay?” Sirius commands trying to get into a comfortable position in between your spread legs, his body sliding slighting from the paint.

You answer him with a loud moan. Soon Sirius has added 2 more fingers into the mix causing you to wriggle and rock your hips into his hand, “so good Sirius, fuck.”

With his free hand, Sirius grips your thigh trying to keep you still, blue paint smears against the soft flesh of your thigh and Sirius is captured by how striking you look laying here right now, chest flushed, and eyes closed. The way your body is squirming from pleasure is causing the paint on the canvas to blend and mix together. Sirius scoops up some red paint from the fabric and swipes it across your breasts and over your nipples, “so pretty.” He mumbles tugging and pinching your nipples.

“Sirius,” you pant desperately, “please. Need more.”

Sirius withdraws his fingers earning a whine from you and strokes his cock a few times before lining it up with your entrance, “shh darlin’. M’here to make you feel good, yeah? Want me to make you feel good?”

You wrap your legs around him urging him to finally push into you. You needed it, needed to feel Sirius stretch you out and fill you up with his cock, needed to hear Sirius gasp and groan into your ear, needed to feel him rock his hips into yours, “please Sirius.”

With a low groan escapes from both of you when Sirius finally pushes into you, Sirius begins thrusting his hips deep and slow into yours, both of your relishing in the feeling and sensation coursing your bodies. Hands around running along the others body, squeezing, tugging, scratching at skin, leaving traces of paint in its wake. Sirius has buried his head in the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek, mumbling how beautiful you look spread out for him.

Deeper, you need it deeper. Wrapping your legs tightly around your boyfriend, you manage to roll the two of you over, Sirius underneath you with you straddling his waist, allowing you to bounce of his cock. From this angle, he reaches deeper inside of you, his hard cock prodding at that sponging spot inside of you. The pure affection and love the two of you feel for each other was unmistakeable in this moment. The tenderness and intimacy of this act made your toes tingle and heart warm in your chest.

Continuing to bounce up and down on Sirius cock, you take a second to watch the boy below you, the only word seemingly fitting to describe him was angelic. His dark locks are sprawled out around the canvas, a mixture of red, blue and purple paint framing his body as well as splotches on his skin. His eyes are trained on yours, a look set in them that you’ve come to be familiar with, undying love.

You lower your head to connect your lips together, wanting-no needing to feel close, to feel connected.

“I love you,” you mumble breathlessly against Sirius’ pink lips. You feel that familiar euphoric sensation creeping up on you, Sirius’ cock hitting your g-spot every time you lower your body.

Sirius’ grips your waist tight and firmly, his own hips slamming up into you, “I love you too baby, so much.” He can feel your pussy clenching around him, he watches the way your breasts bounce between your bodies, he reaches his head forward to latch his mouth onto your nipple, sucking and licking on the sensitive bud. The noises slipping from your mouth makes his cock twitch.

“Sirius,” you pant threading your fingers through his dark hair to keep him close to your body.

Your body feels like it’s on fire and ready to combust, your legs trembling, and you know you won’t last much longer with the way Sirius is suckling at your nipple and he knows it.

“Want you to cum for me darlin, be my good girl and cum on my cock,” he groans into your breast, sucking and licking at your salty skin.

The coil in the pit of your belly snaps and with a load high pitched whine you’re releasing all over Sirius’ cock, your pussy clenching and legs shaking from the stimulation. After your release, it only takes Sirius a few more thrusts until he’s following suit, his load shooting and filling you up, a string of I love you’s tumbling from both of your mouths.

You collapse onto Sirius’ chest, neither of you make any effort to move even once your breathing has settled. Laying here with Sirius made you feel safe and protected. The way his index finger was trailing up and down your spine made you shiver, and you could feel him kissing your scalp gently. Undeniably, there was love radiating from his body, you could feel it and you only hope he could feel it radiating from yours too.

~~~

“Hey guys, that painting hanging up in the bedroom is new, yeah?” James questions, traipsing back into the living room where the rest of the group was.

You feel a heat rise in your cheeks when you realise which painting the bespectacled boy is referring too. Sirius nods pulling you tighter into his side.

“Did you paint that one Pads?” Remus asks. Most, if not all the artwork displayed in yours and Sirius’ home was created by him. It normally took a bit of persuading Sirius to let you hang up his work, he didn’t like to come across as cocky. But as soon as this canvas was dried and stretched onto a frame Sirius wasted no time in mounting it; above your shared bed, him claiming it ‘gets him in the mood whenever he looks at it’ (and he really wasn’t lying).

The boy beside you grins and plants a sloppy kiss against your cheek, “me and Y/N painted that one,” he says teasingly.

You shoot him a death glare warning him to keep his big mouth shut. “Don’t,” you mouth.

“That’s so cool! Didn’t know you were so artistic Y/N!” James exclaims excitedly, clearly impressed by the painting.

Sirius chuckles loudly pinching your side making you yelp, “oh she’s very talented when he comes to that type of stuff. I think we might need to make another piece together babe, what do you think?”

[bringbackthebastard]

Bring Back the Bastard Daily Prompts

Hello, folks! I'm posting these two weeks before we begin our fest, on September 1st, to give folks some inspiration on what to write each day as we celebrate Severus Snape's pettiest, most dastardly moments. I specifically picked out moments Snaters always harp on, that Snapedom personally enjoys--from any moment with Trevor to bitching at Lupin at Sirius, to the moments that Lily turns away and Dumbledore's face flashes with disgust--sure, he's a bastard, but he's our bastard, and that's what we like about him. You don't want him? Good. We'll keep him. Here are 30 scene prompts for 30 days--it's a long list, pulled chronologically from all seven books, but I found that it reminded me of everything I love about this character. The moments where he's called deranged, the moments where he slips into all-caps, the ugliest moments of the soul. Hope yall enjoy. Excited to kick off the fest starting September 1st, and absolutely excited to see what Snapedom will do. Let's Bring Back the Bastard! The prompts are below the readmore.

Day 1: The Scar Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacheer with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes--and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead. "Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head. "What is it?" asked Percy. "N-nothing." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look--a felling that he didn't like Harry at all. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to--everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Day 2: Bad Impressions Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name. "Ah, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new--celebrity."

Day 3: Potions Class "Potter!" said Snape suddenly "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand shot into the air. "I don't know, sir," said Harry. Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut--fame clearly isn't everything."

Day 4: A Horrible Sight Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages. "Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?" Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but-- "POTTER!" Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Harry gulped. "I just wondered if I could have my book back." "GET OUT! OUT!"

Day 5: Maybe He's Ill "Hang on..." Harry muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the staff table...Where's Snape?" Professor Severus Snape was Harry's least favorite teacher. Harry also happened to be Snape's least favorite student. Cruel, sarcastic, and disliked by everybody except the students from his own House (Slytherin), Snape taught Potions. "Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully. "Maybe he's left," said Harry, "because he missed out on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job again!" "Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him--" "Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."

Day 6: Slytherin Takes the Field "But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "But I booked it!" "Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

Day 7: No Quidditch For You! "I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest." "Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong." Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly. Snape looked furious.

Day 8: Expelliarmus! "Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry--you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!" "Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry's ear. Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at *him* like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them. "As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our fist spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course." "I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth. "One--two--three--" Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Day 9: Only Bite Him A Little Bit, Please "Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it..."

Day 10: Poisoning Trevor The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron. "Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned." The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat. There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small op, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm. The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown. "Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

Day 11: Insufferable Know-It-All Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air. "Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between--" "We told you," said Parvati suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on--" "Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..." "Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf--" "That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Fire more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Day 12: Your Saintly Father "I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter," he said, a terrible grin twisting his face. "Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you--your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't gotten cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts." Snape's uneven, yellowish teeth were bared.

Day 13: Don't Talk About What You Don't Understand "KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end o his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent. "Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you..." "The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" --he jerked his head at Ron-- "I'll come quietly...." "Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black...pleased enough to give you a little Kiss, I daresay...."

Day 14: A Great Disappointment "He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have let somebody in the room with him. When this gets out--" "HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared, now very close at hand. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE *OR* DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS--HAS--SOMETHING--TO--DO--WITH--POTTER!" "Severus--be reasonable--Harry has been locked up--" BAM. The door of the hospital wing burst open. Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself. "OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" "Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself!" "See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw--" "THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth. "Calm down, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!" "YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT--" "That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the war ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?" "Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I would have heard them!" "Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further." Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behavior, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward. "Fellow seems quite unbalanced," said Fudge, staring after him. "I'd watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore." "Oh, he's not unbalanced," said Dumbledore quietly. "He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

Day 15: Haven't You Heard? "Blimey, haven' yeh heard?" said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. "Er--Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'....Thought everyone'd know by now...Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose on the grounds las' night...He's packin' now, o' course."

Day 16: I See No Difference "And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain." "Potter attacked me, sir--" "We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted. "--and he hit Goyle--look--" Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi. "Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly. "Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!" He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth--she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back. Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Day 17: The Dark Mark Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He struck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled. "There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eater to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Day 18: If You Are Ready...If You Are Prepared... "Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready...if you are prepared..." "I am," said Snape. He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely. "Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.

Day 19: Obviously "Now...how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard. "Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable. His eyes on Snape, Harry added a few drops to his potion; it hissed menacingly and turned from turquoise to orange. "You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape. "Yes," said Snape quietly. "But you were unsuccessful?" Snape's lip curled. "Obviously." Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard. "And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?" "Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry. "Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge. "I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily. "Oh I shall," said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile. "I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed. "Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers'--er--backgrounds...." She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson, and began questioning her about the lessons. Snape looked around at Harry and their eyes met for a second. Harry hastily dropped his gaze to his potion, which was now congealing foully and giving off a strong smell of burned rubber. "No marks again, then, Potter," said Snape maliciously, emptying Harry's cauldron with a wave of his wand. "You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?"

Day 20: Very Like His Father "How touching," Snape sneered. "But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?" Yes, I have," said Sirius proudly. "Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him," Snape said sleekly. Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table toward Snape, pulling out his wand as he went; Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius' wand-tip to his face. "Sirius!" said Harry loudly, but Sirius appeared not to hear him. "I've warned you, Snivellus," said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better." "Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months very seriously?" "Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?" "Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform...gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future, didn't it?" Sirius raised his wand. "NO!" Harry yelled, vaulting over the table and trying to get in between them, "Sirius, don't--" "Are you calling me a coward?" roared Sirius, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry would not budge. "Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape.

Day 21: Wormtail's Whine "We...we are alone, aren't we?" Narcissa asked quietly. "Yes, of course. Well, Wormtail's here, but we're not counting vermin, are we?" He pointed his wand at the wall of books behind him and with a bang, a hidden door flew open, revealing a narrow staircase upon which a small man stood frozen. "As you have clearly realized, Wormtail, we have guests," said Snape lazily. The man crept, hunchbacked, down the last few steps and moved into the room. He had small, watery eyes, a pointed nose, and wore an unpleasant simper. His left hand was caressing his right, which looked as though it was encased in a bright silver glove. "Narcissa!" he said, in a squeaky voice. "And Bellatrix! How charming--" "Wormtail will get us drinks, if you'd like them," said Snape. "And then he will return to his bedroom." Wormtail winced as though Snape had thrown something at him. "I am not your servant!" he squeaked, avoiding Snape's eyes. "Really? I was under the impression that the Dark Lord placed you here to assist me." "To assist, yes--but not to make you drinks and--clean your house!" "I had no idea, Wormtail, that you were craving more dangerous assignments," said Snape silkily. "This can be easily arranged: I shall speak to the Dark Lord--" "I can speak to him if I want to!" "Of course you can," said Snape, sneering. "But in the meantime, bring us drinks. Some of the elf-made wine will do."

Day 22: A Loving Caress Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view. "The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible." Harry stared at Snape. It was surely one thing to respect the Dark Arts as a dangerous enemy, another to speak of them, as Snape was doing, with a loving caress in his voice? "Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures" --he indicated a few of them as he swept past-- "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" --he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony-- "feel the Dementor's Kiss" --a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall-- "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" --a bloody mass upon the ground.

Day 23: Better People "What does it matter?" said Malfoy. "Defense Against the Dark Arts--it's all just a joke, isn't it, an act? Like an of us need protecting against the Dark Arts--" "It is an act that is crucial to success, Draco!" said Snape. "Where do you think I would have been all these years, if I had not known how to act? Now listen to me! You are being incautious, wandering around at night, getting yourself caught, and if you are placing your reliance in assistants like Crabbe and Goyle--" "They're not the only ones, I've got other people on my side, better people!" "Then why not confide in me, and I can--" "I know what you're up to! You want to steal my glory!" There was another pause, then Snape said coldly, "You are speaking like a child. I quite understand that your father's capture and imprisonment has upset you, but--"

Day 24: Revulsion and Hatred Etched on His Face "Severus..." The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading. Snape said nothing, but walked forward and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. The three Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed. Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face. "Severus...please..." Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. "Avada Kedavra!"

Day 25: Don't Call Me Coward Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, Levi-- "No, Potter!" screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG and Harry was soaring backward, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand. He could hear Hagrid yelling and Fang howling as Snape closed in and looked down on him where he lay, wandless and defenseless as Dumbledore had been. Snape's pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with hatred just as it had been before he had cursed Dumbledore. "You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them--I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, woudl you? I don't think so...no!" Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight. "Kill me then," panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward--" "DON'T--" screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly deranged, inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in the burning house behind them-- "CALL ME COWARD!"

Day 26: The Guest Voldemort raised Lucius Malfoy's wand, pointed it directly at the slowing revolving figure suspended over the table, and gave it a tiny flick. The figure came to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds. "Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort. Snape raised his eyes to the upside-down face. All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as thought they had been given permission to show curiosity. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Severus! Help me!" "Ah, yes," said Snape as the prisoner turned slowly away again.

Day 27: I Regret It "All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner...and I think I have the answer." Snape did not speak. "Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen." "My Lord--" "The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine." "My Lord!" Snape protested, raising his wand. "It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last." And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: But then Voldemort's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue. "Kill." There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape's face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake's fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor. "I regret it," said Voldemort coldly.

Day 28: You Hurt Her! "Tuney!" said Lily, surprise and welcome in her voice, but Snape had jumped to his feet. "Who's spying now?" he shouted. "What d'you want?" Petunia was breathless, alarmed at being caught. Harry could see her struggling for something hurtful to say. "What is that you're wearing, anyway?" she said, pointing at Snape's chest. "Your mum's blouse?" There was a *crack*. A branch over Petunia's head had fallen. Lily screamed: The branch caught Petunia on the shoulder, and she staggered backward and burst into tears. "Tuney!" But Petunia was running away. Lily rounded on Snape. "Did you make it happen?" "No." He looked both defiant and scared. "You did!" She was backing away from him. "You *did*! You hurt her!" "No--no I didn't!" But the lie did not convince Lily: After one last burning look, she ran from the little thicket, off after her sister, and Snape looked miserable and confused....

Day 29: Save Your Breath "I'm sorry." "I'm not interested." "I'm sorry!" "Save your breath." It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. "I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here." "I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just--" "Slipped out?" There was no pity in Lily's voice. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends--you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?" He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. "I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine." "No--listen, I didn't mean--" "--to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I any different?" He struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look she turned and climbed back through the portrait hole....

Day 30: Anything "If she means so much to you," said Dumbledore, "surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for the mother, in exchange for the son?" "I have--I have asked him--" "You disgust me," said Dumbledore, and Harry had never heard so much contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to drink a little. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?" Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore. "Hide them all, then," he croaked. "Keep her--them--safe. Please." "And what will you give me in return, Severus?" "In--in return?" Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, "Anything."

[yanderememes]

Solitary Love Chapter 3 (Yandere Giorno x Reader)

This chapter is longer than ch 1 and 2, so bear with me here! Tbh, this chapter is probably going to be boring to a lot of you BUT it's important because we get to see reader as a person with traits, qualities, strengths, and flaws and not just some random object of affection for Giorno to place his unhealthy obsession on for no reason. I don't see him as that type of guy at all and doesn't make for a good story imo.

Ah~ the curse of slow burn stories...

BUT I PROMISE IT'LL GET GOOD YALL 😭 I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS FOR WHERE THIS SERIES IS GONNA GO BUT SETTING UP THE BEGINNING STAGE IS SUCH A PAIN. The reward of slow burn plots are (usually) worth it lol

*reader is afab just so that we're all on the same page here and moving forward*

f/n = friend's name (I imagined them as all females, so please don't hate me if it doesn't reflect your irl friends 🥲)

It sucked that you lost your pocket mirror a few days in since you flew into Italy but that pain was soon forgotten with all the fun activities you and your class did today. Today, you got the chance to see the Vatican Museum, home of Renaissance masters and tour around Vatican City. You even visited the Sistine Chapel where Michelangelo painted his icon ceiling painting, The Creation of Adam. The whole day was spent roaming around Vatican City and enjoying the beautiful and aesthetically pleasing artworks they had to offer.

But after a long day of art appreciation, it was time to head back to the hotel. It was 10 PM and everyone was back in their respective rooms. You and your friends decided to end the night by watching a scary movie. You were all setting up for a girl’s movie night. You were in charge of fortifying the pillows and blankets, f/n #1 would be handling the food and drinks, and f/n #2 was scrolling through Netflix to find a scary movie to watch.

“Ow!”

You and f/n #1 place your attention on the friend who winced in pain.

“You okay?” f/n #1 asked

“No, I accidentally cut my finger with the scissors when I was trying to open the bag of chips” f/n #2 explained. “And now I’m bleeding.”

“Do we have any bandages?” f/n #1 asked

“Check the bathroom” f/n #2 replied

“I don’t see any bandages”

“Let’s ask the front desk” you suggested, grabbing the hotel phone and dialling the number. It rang for a few seconds before the receptionist picked up.

“Reception, come posso aiutarla? (front desk, how may I help you?)”

“Mi scusi (excuse me), do you have any bandages available?”

“Ah, la prego di scusarci (please accept our apologies). We do not have any bandages with us.”

‘Damnnit’ you thought to yourself and bit your lip. “Va bene, grazie (it’s alright, thank you)”

You hang up the phone and sigh before giving your friend an answer, “They don’t have any.”

“They don’t?” your friend who cut their finger looked disappointed. You hated seeing them like this. Was there anything you could do to help?

It was 10:13 PM, no shops would still be open at this time. But you couldn’t leave your friend’s cut unattended. Sure it was small but you weren’t the type to abandon a friend in need. You recall seeing a 24-hour convenience store when the tour bus was driving the class back from Vatican City.

“There’s a convenience store nearby. I’ll stop by there and grab bandages for you.”

“I’ll go with you” f/n #1 offered

“It’s okay, I can go by myself. You should keep f/n #2 company and watch over her. I won’t take long.”

“Are you sure? It’s dark outside and in a foreign country” f/n #1 expressed her worries. Young women like you and your friends should never be out at night without someone accompanying you. It’s a sad reality that women are prime targets for numerous horrible deeds, but there are times where you can’t back down.

“I’ll be fine! I’ll call you guys when I’m on my way back, okay?” you tried to calm your friend. But truth be told, you were a bit nervous to leave the hotel by yourself. A part of you wanted to ask the professor or some close acquaintance from class to join you so you wouldn’t be alone but it was pretty late and you didn’t want to bother them.

“y/n, be careful.” f/n #2 said before you left the room.

***

Following your Google Maps on your phone to the convenience store, you made sure not to put on headphones and to look up from your phone every once and a while to be aware of your surroundings for any potential threats.

On your way to the convenience store, you see a homeless man sitting on the same sidewalk you were walking on, holding a sign that read “ti prego, aiutami (please help me)” with a plastic cup placed in front of him.

He seemed harmless and when you got closer to his vicinity, you could see his left eye was damaged. The poor thing. You felt sorry for him. He was old and frail with unkempt long grey hairs sticking out from his scalp. His clothes were all tattered and filled with holes. Even his fingernails were black, probably from all the dirt and bacteria he had to rummage through in trash bins to find food.

The old homeless man coughed and that hurt your heart. He was probably just as sad and lonely as he appeared. He probably didn’t have much time left in this world given how old and sick he looked. He suffered enough, might as well do him a small salvation before he eventually passes.

Grabbing out your wallet, you slid a 10 euro bill. To many and to yourself, that was a lot to give to a homeless man. Many would argue your hard-worked money is wasted donating it to homeless people who don’t work for money, but you thought differently. It’s your money, so you have every right to do as you see fit with it. If you wanted to donate it to people in need, then that’s your choice. It may not mean a lot to you, but it does to the people living in poverty. This small act of kindness was enough for you.

When the homeless man realized how much money you gave him, he was speechless. His mouth agape as he looked at you with his working eye in awe. He gazed upon the 10 euro bill in his cup again and back at you. His eyes were beginning to water as he thanked you for your kind deed.

“Grazie, signora. Grazie. Grazie. Dio vi benedica (God bless you)” the homeless man clasped his hands together and bowed, chanting thank you’s to you.

“Nessun problema, buona fortuna (no problem, good luck)” you wished the poor man and continued your walk to the convenience store.

10 euros translates to 11 dollars. You were far from rich. You were a student. A graduate student, not to mention. Money is already tough to come by and you couldn’t spare to work part-time because graduate studies are extremely time-consuming. Even saving up for this trip to Italy took a big hit on you financially, and let’s not even talk about the debt you accumulated from undergraduate work PLUS your current tuition fees.

But seeing how happy and grateful that man was made your heart soar and put a smile on your face. Money is great and all but nothing beats that rewarding feeling you get from helping others and making their life just a little bit better. This small but meaningful interaction acts as a reminder for you as to why you chose counselling to be your dream career.

Your little daydreaming stopped when you noticed the big flashing lights of the convenience store. Finally. You made it.

Stepping inside and quickly grabbing the bandages and rubbing alcohol for your friend, you headed over to the counter to be cashed out. When the cashier bagged your items, you thanked him and walked out while getting directions on your phone to get back to your hotel.

As you were waiting for the green light at the pedestrian crosswalk, you felt a small tap on your leg.

“Mi scusi (excuse me), signora. I’m scared to cross the road, can you come with me?”

You look down and notice it was a little girl talking to you. She seemed lost and was asking you for help.

Without hesitating, you offered your hand to the little girl and began to cross the street together.

“Where are your parents?” you asked.

“Over there” the little girl pointed to a woman waiting on the other side of the road.

When you both reached the end of the crosswalk, you handed the girl over to her mother.

“Aurora!”

“Mamma (mom)!”

The little girl ran into her mother’s arms and was given a big hug.

“Don’t ever run off by yourself again!” her mother scolded

“Mi dispiace, mamma (I’m sorry, mom)” the girl cried

The mother comforted her daughter and looked at you, realizing you were the hero who brought them back together. “Grazie! Grazie!” she frantically shouted, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

You only nodded your head and smiled to signal to the mother that her gratitude was appreciated and the mother carried her daughter away, leaving you by your lonesome.

This certainly wasn’t how you expected your night to go, especially coming back from the convenience store to grab your friend a pack of bandages but it did warm your heart knowing you helped a lost child reunite with her mother. Only God knows what would have happened to the girl if you weren’t there. The world can be an ugly place but that’s something you rather not think too deeply about at night when you’re out on the streets alone.

You had this strange feeling that someone was watching you. You turned around to check but saw no one. You were completely alone here on this street. Were you being paranoid? You did lose your pocket mirror yesterday so maybe it got to your head that you might be robbed again.

But you did learn in school that there was something called the “sixth sense” in people where we can sense when someone is looking at us. Maybe you weren’t completely off the mark. Taking no chances, you picked up your phone and dialled your friend’s number. If anything happened to you, then they would be the first ones to know and call for help.

“Hello?”

“Hey f/n #1, I’m heading back now. How’s f/n #2 doing?”

“She’s doing fine. We managed to stop the bleeding. I wrapped a tissue around her finger for the time being. How far are you?”

“Uhhh…” temporarily moving the phone away from your ear to look at its screen, Google Maps indicated you’d be back at your hotel in 6 minutes. “About 6 minutes away.”

“Ok, but hurry back. It’s not safe to stay out too long. I’ll stay on the phone with you until you get back”

6 minutes isn’t bad but you just couldn’t shake this feeling that someone was watching you. Were you always this paranoid? You take a look at your surroundings again to double-check and again, find nothing. But your gut was telling you something was off. At this point, you trusted your gut more than what your 5 senses are showing you. Maybe if you power walked then you could cut the distance by half and make it back in 3 minutes instead.

***

“That was fast. Didn’t you say 6 minutes?” f/n #1 opens the door to an exhausted y/n barging into the room

“I *huff huff* got here *huff huff* as fast… as I could” you gasped and tried to catch your breath between each word you spoke. You hunched over and used the wall to catch yourself from falling while trying to bring your heart rate back to normal.

“Why are you breathing so hard? Were you chased?!” f/n #2 exclaimed

You only shook your head, too out of breath to talk.

“Well, what happened?” f/n #1 handed you a bottle of water

You wondered if you should tell them. It’s not like you were in any real danger per se. You didn’t see anyone and you weren’t being chased. Would your friends believe you if you told them you ran back here because you thought someone was watching you? How silly would you look? After chugging the bottle of water down your dehydrated throat, you spoke, “I thought I saw someone following me. I was frightened and just booked it.”

You lied. Well, sort of. Saying you thought you saw someone versus saying you thought someone was stalking you would probably warrant more reason to dash home.

“Do you think they followed you back here?” f/n #2 asked

“No, I don’t think so. I didn’t see anybody behind me when I made it inside the foyer. But anyway, here. Put on a bandage. I also bought disinfectant for you.” you pulled out the products from the bag and handed it to f/n #2.

“Grazie, y/n~” she chirped, grabbing both items from you.

Grazie, huh? You’ve been hearing this word all night. Your little trip to the convenience store was certainly eventful, to say the least. You would have never expected you’d encounter a homeless man or a lost child. Italy sure has been sending you surprises.

“I hope you ladies are ready because tonight, we’re gonna be watching The Conjuring 2!” f/ #1 excitedly shouted. Clearly, she was waiting all night to get movie night started. All 3 of you situated yourself in a comfortable position amongst your pillows and blankets, turned off the lights, and the movie started.

While the movie was playing, you couldn’t help but wonder what that odd sensation your gut was telling you was. Why did you so strongly feel and somewhat, believe, that there was someone watching you as soon as you stepped out of the hotel? Were you overthinking it? Maybe you didn’t realize before how paranoid you really are. But what if there is some truth to your gut urging you to rush back home? After all, our ancestors and evolution didn’t give us fight or flight instincts for nothing. What if they’re still watching you? What if they’re standing outside the hotel right now?

“y/n, you okay?” f/n #2 asked, snapping you back to reality.

“Yeah” you smiled and turned your attention back towards the movie. A horror movie isn’t exactly what you would use to relax your nerves, but you’re sure it’ll help keep your mind off of things in the meanwhile.

Like you and your friends, you all can agree this girl’s movie night was much needed after tonight’s event.

[shitsngiggles666]

Hi @eileen-crys I know you blocked me. But it came to my attention you’ve been talking shit (get it?) about me. I seen a screenshot from your blog that I feel is a bit unfair and almost resentful towards me. Listen, I think you have every right to say what you want about me. Call me names, talk behind my back, hate me all you want. But I want to respond. I think even someone widely considered “a bad person” should at least try to defend themselves.

I don’t want to share a sob story, but I am more used to people being mean then kind to me. I don’t think anything you can say to me or call me would be new. I have been called stupid, ugly, annoying for pretty much my whole life. This includes everyone from school mates to members of my own family. Did this cause me pain? Yes, and it’s taken me time but I am used to it. I really don’t want to let people on the internet hurt my feelings. Here’s the thing tho, I genuinely considered you my friend and really enjoyed talking to you. I think your art is adorable. I think that’s why I feel so hurt tbh. We have drifted away, and that’s fine. If a friendship, even an online one ends over diffidence of opinion over the nature over the marriage of some old rich white dude then so be it. But I will not let you mock me on your blog without at responding. Keep that post up, I don’t care if you remove it or not but I think I can at least respond to it. This is my one request so I can get this off my chest

I never said that anecdote is false. I just think like so many online anecdotes it needs scrutiny, a source and cannot be taken as fact. I don’t just do this for Veronica, I do this for everything. The reason I was skeptical was I was always led to believe Veronica was still in school but working as a nanny and never got to teach. My religion is agnosticism and my overall philosophy is “question everything, don’t be afraid to say ‘I don’t know’ what we want to be true isn’t always the truth, complete honesty and an avoidance of bias. I have, and probably always will ask questions. Not just about John Deacon, but anything I am curious about. It’s simply my nature, and the more unsure I am about something the more I question it. Yes, it’s annoying but also understand that I annoyed my parents, my teachers, my professors and even people at work.

I got hooked on Queen some years ago after watching a BBC documentary on Queen and becoming enamored. The movie greatly disappointed me and even some what angered me (honestly I think it’s one of the more homophobic films I’ve seen). So I turned to the internet to feed my hunger. John particularly fascinated me as I thought he was dead originally but wondered “where was he”? I even related to him a lot as I am quite shy and quiet irl. John also frustrated me as there was so much not known about him. Back in the day, I was a HUGE johnica stan. Surely if John and Veronica had so many kids they were very much in love, and the narrative of John living happily ever after was appealing to me. Plus his son seemed nice enough. Cameron was who lead me to tumblr, and who led me from my Johnnica fantasies. Cameron made me view John Deacon as not just a person, but also a flawed person. I learned more and more about him and I started to think maybe John and his family are different than how I imagined. I was really forced to start being honest about what I really knew about John. I wish I can elaborate more as I can’t describe it but something about the whole Cameron and the Camily incident made me see John more human? Like more complex, and more like an everyday person and less of this caricature obsessed with cheese and impregnating his wife? I don’t have anything against John. I don’t have anything against Veronica. I am not some villain from a Carebears cartoon who hates love. I just feel so much about John is from fan assumptions and imagination. Hear me out:

Something I want to make clear is I have nothing against writing fan fic or fan art or what ever about real life people. I believe strongly in freedom of expression and no one should dictate what art is acceptable and what isn’t. You got mad at me when I opposed you encouraging your followers to report a “fan fic” casting Veronica in a bad light. Is it because I have a personal vendetta against her? Or maybe I strongly believe that if one is allowed to fantasize about the marriage of two British boomers writing countless fics about them conceiving their real life children, then you have to tolerate (not accept, but tolerate) different views. I am sorry, but fair is fair. Is it because I hate Veronica? Or is it maybe because I don’t think she would like art depicting her sexuality but accept that authors have every right to express themselves, but can’t dictate what others create. I don’t like double standards. Not to mention, not one of us can say what she would think or feel about it all. Remember, she’s not some fictional character! This pisses you off but I still think my statement is true, but we don’t know her as a person. So much we “know” about her is fan speculation and projection. Am I saying she’s a bad person? No. Am I saying she’s mean? No. What I am saying is we have to be honest about what is fan creation. Just because you’re popular doesn’t mean your opinion is true and anyone who even expressed skepticism is both a bad person and hates Veronica or even thinks she’s a bad person.

I just think she’s an individual whom has had only a few paragraphs written about her. If she wants to keep her life private, that’s her right. Same for John. He famously hasn’t spoken to the public for decades and that’s fine! Maybe he and Veronica are the couple from “When I’m 64”. I love to think that! But maybe it’s different. And it’s not my business and there’s alone. So, that’s all I have for now. Since I have been interested in Queen my life has changed. New responsibilities, work changes, life changes the whole lot. I have less time to spend online and even less time to bother with silly internet drama. Am I hurt? Yes, I felt like someone punched me in the gut, and is never easy to see someone you once really liked and considered you a friend insult you. I’m upset. But I feel 1) This won’t matter ten years from now and 2) if someone who has always been sweet and kind suddenly turns nasty over a ship isn’t really your friend. I have seen people with opposing ships still me friends. I have some really wholesome memories from lurking on X-men forums involving fans being friends despite arguing over who should be smashing who. I never took shipping seriously and probably never will. John Deacon and his marriage is not very important to my day to day life. I remember feeling sick and distressed for days when I learned of his affair with Pushbar the lap dancer. But you know what? The sun still rose that morning, the birds still sang and I ice cream still tasted good. And I am sure you will continue to hate me and talk about me to other Queen fans but I will never leave the Queen fandom. I won’t let some middle school drama ruin something I really enjoy.

Accuse me of causing drama or being a bully or whatever but I tried to explain myself. I am willing to talk in private with anyone with questions, comments and concerns but understand I have a very busy work week with limited internet access and other stuff offline.

PS I am glad you correctly identified my avatar as an ocelot! Most people mistake ocelots for cheetahs or leopards.

[holden-caulfield]

Hi bestie! It's me again 😌

So I've been thinking : divination class where reader and Draco have to read each others destiny (you pick the divination method you like best) and they realize it's connected (and in my imagination there's a lot of angst because it's Draco we're talking about and this boy does not have a path of wildflowers ahead 👀, but also fluff because reader is soft)

Voilà ! Thank you for taking my request, ily 🖤

My love, so nice seeing you here again, i love your requests😩

I spent an entire afternoon looking up divination methods and how to read palms. My conclusions? I know nothing.

Also, I tried to make it the slightest bit angsty but it came out fluffier than expected :/

Trouble And Sufferings

↪︎ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: draco and reader attend a divination class together which results in revelations for the both of them.

Warnings: none, the title is totally misleading

Word Count: 1276

//

"Dear class, open your minds and prepare to plunge into the future with the elegant art of palmistry! Today you'll be divided in couples and will read each other's future using only the terminal part of your upper limbs!"

Trelawney's odd words greeted you to class as you looked for a seat to assist to the lesson. Your usual spot was taken so you surveyed the entire class for a free chair, finding it in the higher row.

The seat next to you didn't remain empty for too long for an unfamiliar figure approached you and occupied it quickly.

"Please open your textbooks at page 211 and grasp your partner's palm, i will wander through the class to help those in need."

You opened the textbook in front of you and noticed the person beside you do the same.

"Would you like to go first?" you said glancing up at the blond sat next to you.

"Sure, yes." he stretched his arm in front of him and offered you his hand. You took it in your own and couldn't help but notice how incredibly slender his fingers were, adorned by a couple of silver rings that gave you shivers whenever you barely grazed them with your fingers.

You started running your thumbs on his palm, feeling the softness of it, but perceived him suddenly tensed up and softened your touch even more.

"So, this is... your life line. I think." you said, sliding your thumbs along his palm's most prominent line. You switched your eyes to the page as your thumbs kept gliding on his hand and continued.

"And this one should be..." you said while tracing the line just below the first one with the utmost delicacy, "it should be the head line."

You set your eyes on his face and caught him staring at you.

"Are you sure?"

"Not at all." you admitted with a shy smile lowering your gaze back to your conjoined hands.

He then lifted his hand from your clutch only to grasp your own hand in the process, exposing your palm to his grey eyes.

"The biggest one is the head line, this one is the life line." he said almost whispering as he traced your palm delicately. You felt shivers running up your back but did your best to hide them as his cold eyes bored directly into yours.

"What does it say then?" you asked, inching forward now completely invested in the activity. He seemed to know what he was doing, he probably paid more attention to divination classes than you did and you were thankful for that.

"Well, your life line isn't too long, but it's quite deep." he looked up from your hand to catch your worried expression and let out a low chuckle, "It does not mean you'll have a short life."

You sighed in relief and smiled warmly as he gazed into your book, moving slightly closer to your body. "At least i hope so."

You jabbed his arm lightly and he smirked in response, your hand still safely in his.

"If it doesn't mean i will die soon, what does it mean then?" you asked impatiently, now sitting on the edge of your seat.

"That, I don't know." you have him a disappointed look and retrieved your hand from his hold.

"Give me yours, now that i now which one is which, it's child's play." you didn't miss him roll his eyes at your comments and grasped his wrist once more. "Your head line is fragmented."

"Nice...?"

"Yeah, nice, it means you'll have moments of revelation. Or mental strife, you choose." you declared confidently, eyes still set on the page.

"I don't think it works like that, you know?" he interjected cockily. You lifted your eyes from the book to catch him staring at it, way closer than before. You felt suddenly extremely hot, as if the sun was inside the room, right next to you, burning your skin.

"How are you two doing? You, my dear, tell me what you see!" Draco stepped back when professor Trelawney approached you and you weren't quite sure whether you were grateful or annoyed because of it. You returned your attention to Draco's palm and began.

"Uhm... i see a great future full of... trials but happiness in the end?" you had no idea what you were saying and apparently Trelawney knew too since she grasped Draco's hand in her own and began scrutinizing it.

"Oh dear... this is not good, not good at all! Misfortunes! Hard times! Oh, your past hasn't been kind but your future might be even worse, unless..."

"Unless what?" you asked alarmingly as Trelawney kept predicting Draco's unfortunate future, but he didn't seem too fazed, keeping his eyes on the bizarre professor.

"Unless another force comes into his life, that is." she said matter-of-factly but your confused expression was enough for her to move her wand in the air and summon a crystal ball directly on the table.

"Give me your hands, my dears, we'll embark on a journey now! Please liberate your minds so that we can explore your future together." you and Draco offered your hands to the professor, who grasped it immediately in her own, giving each other a skeptical look.

You closed your eyes and did your best to 'liberate your mind'. You heard her mutter something under her breath but kept your head blank.

You then opened your eyes and saw Trelawney move closer to the crystal ball to inspect it but as soon as she saw its content, she jumped back, a hand over her heart in shock.

"What happened? What is it?" you asked, more and more curious, and immediately looked down at the ball with Draco who had been imperturbable until then.

You could see nothing in it but swirling liliac smoke and, judging from Draco's expression, he saw the same. You tried looking up at him, hoping to find answers, but were met with more doubts. You both faced professor Trelawney who was still gaping at you two.

Draco was growing annoyed with the whole situation and Trelawney's obvious overreaction, so he took the book from the table and began skimming through it.

"Professor? Is it that bad?" you asked. Trelawney regained some sort of control but did not speak yet.

"Purple smoke is a sign of trouble, says here, so i'd say yes." stated Draco, closing the book with a huff.

"Trouble that can be overcome!" spoke suddenly the professor with her usual prophetic tone, "But that's not all! Dear boy, the things I saw... and you! You, my dear, you are crucial!"

You furrowed your brows as Trelawney's lanky index finger pointed at you.

"I'll be the cause of trouble?"

"On the contrary! You are the solution!" she spoke a little louder, gaining the attention of other students who were still deciphering palms. "And you, mr Malfoy, you'll be the solution to hers!"

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but Trelawney got up from her chair and cheerily muttered, "Superb! Indeed superb!" as she continued her path among other students in need of help.

You turned your head towards the blond beside you, looking pensive in his seat. You were still utterly confused by the professor's words and decided to ask him.

"Do you think she's right?"

"Of course not." your face unconsciously fell a little, "She's mad if she thinks that troubles and sufferings are something superb."

You smiled at the comment and caught his eyes, causing a twin smirk to appear on his face, a face you reckoned was indeed worth the troubles and sufferings you were apparently going to undergo.

//

Taglist <3

@turn-to-page-394-please @gwlvr @dracosaccount @astoria-malfcy @dracomalfoys-wh0re @eunoniaa @cherie-draco @oeuryale @wh0re4blaise @90smalfoy @sanctimoniousslytherpuff @maybesandohnos @dracoswhore007 @macheregrace @paulina1998 @bungunz @malfoysbiitch @dreamy-clousds @malfoyxxdraco23 @saayanaaa @xlauren-malfoyx @riddleswh0r3crux @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @elevatorsdoor @dracoscene @beforeoursunsets

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[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Fourth Year (Part II) - Chapter 5

Gif is not mine, blessed are the gif makers.

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Chapter Words:  11.433K (they keep getting bigger and bigger don’t they?)

Authors note: I told myself i would only updated this once i finished writing two chapters ahead, but here we are. I hope everyone has a good reading, please let me know what you think and if you have any questions regarding the story i’m as lost as you are but i believe everything will make sense at the end.

//-//-//-//-//

When you woke up in the morning, you were really irritated.

Not having slept very well, both because of the time you went back to bed, and because of the strange dreams with red lights that you kept having, you were really sleepy when you had to get up.

And well, the first class was History of Magic, so the universe was not in your favor.

But you were quite surprised when you reached Professor Okoye's classroom and found a small crowd of students waiting at the door.

"What's going on?" You asked Quill as soon as you identified him in the crowd, Mantis right behind you. 

"I don't think we're going to have class today." He replied while looking into the room. You copied his movement, and could see the teacher moving the tables and chairs in the room away to the corner, leaving a nice clear space. When she was finished, she waved for everyone to come in.

You stood with Quill and Mantis and the rest of the students scattered around the room, and the teacher in the center. She closed the door with a wave of her wand as they all entered, a small smile on her lips.

"I have an announcement to make, students." She begins. "According to the traditions of the triwizard tournament, the host school must organize a winter ball during christmas night after the first task." She tells and has to raise her voice a bit because the students start talking to each other excitedly. "And as head of the Gryffindor house, renowned for its chivalry, I was made responsible for organizing dance class sessions." She pauses briefly, looking at the students until they fall silent. "I also expect the Hufflepuff house to behave as respectfully as my Gryffindor students, since the honorable Helga Hufflepuff was known for her great charity balls."

With a wave of Okoye's wand, a cabinet in the corner of the room opens, and out of it flies a small music organ to the corner of the room. When she waves it again, a soft melody fills the entire room.

"Let's begin."

//-//

It is only at lunchtime that you get to talk to Wanda. And your feet still hurt from the times Quill stepped on them during the dance class.

You throw your bag on the Slytherin bench and sit down next to Wanda, looking at her expectantly. The girl makes a confused frown.

"What?" she asks with a slight humor in her voice.

"Really, Wands?" You reply in the same tone. "I want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"The tournament." 

Wanda rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the plate in front of her. You frown at the way she is being casual about it.

"What about the tournament?"

You let out a short laugh.

"What do you mean “what about the tournament”? You're the champion of Hogwarts! The underage champion of Hogwarts!" You clarify, but Wanda doesn't look at you. You blink in confusion, and reach your forearm down on the table, touching her lightly so that she looks at you. Your chest aches as she pulls her arm away. "What's wrong?"

Wanda sighs, running her hands through her hair lightly.

"I just don't want to hear about how I'm an irresponsible cheater or how dangerous the tournament is." She replies looking at you.

"I wasn't going to say that." You retort, and Wanda rolls her eyes, which irritates you. "You haven't even heard what I have to say and you've already drawn your own conclusions."

Wanda clenches her jaw, her cheeks slightly reddened.

"And what do you have to say about it then?"

"I was gonna offer to help you practice for the tasks!" You clarify angrily. And Wanda blinks in confusion. You turn your face forward next, crossing your arms. Arguing with Wanda was absolutely the worst. 

It takes a moment, but her posture softens completely and she sighs, reaching out for your arm afterwards.

"Hey." She calls tenderly, but you continue to stare straight ahead. "Hey, I'm sorry. Look at me."

You slowly turn to the side, looking down at your lap. Wanda waits for you to look up, and when you do, she gives you a weak smile.

" I'm sorry." She repeats, and you sigh, nodding. Wanda bites her lip, looking at you for a moment. "I need to tell you something. Is about..."

Wanda falls silent as your friends arrive at the table, commenting excitedly on the news of the dance that has already spread throughout the school. She sighs softly, straightening herself to look forward. You bite the inside of your cheeks, curious to know what she was going to say, but not wanting to press her.

When Nebula and Gamora sit across from you, you strain to pay attention to their conversation.

"But Wanda, tell us, what is it like to be a Hogwarts champion?" Gamora asks after the topic about the ball closes. Wanda tenses momentarily, and you want to ask why Pietro is sitting at the other end of the table with boys you don't know instead of with his sister, but the brunette forces a smile and you don't.

"I don't recommend the experience, if you ask me." She retorted with slight irony in her voice, making the group laugh. "After the selection, the principals of the other schools were not at all happy about my participation."  She counters twisting her fingers lightly. "I think they were questioning the security of the Goblet choice. But Principal Harkness stood up for me, in her own way at least. She insisted that nothing could be done, because the magical contract with the goblet can only be broken with the end of the tournament."

"I imagine you had no idea this was all going to happen when you put your name on the goblet, eh?" Nebula asked wryly, making the group laugh. But Wanda frowned.

"I didn't put my name on the goblet." Wanda declared. Her friends gave a short laugh, thinking she was joking. But the other girl's serious expression makes them look at her in surprise.

"Wait, are you serious?" Gamora questions and Wanda nods, sighing. She exchanges shocked looks with Nebula and Mantis. Next, Gamora looks at you. "I guess that goes on your list of weird things this year, huh?"

You shake your head slightly, not wanting the girl in front of you to mention what happened in the cup, but Gamora is already commenting on your nightmares the next moment.

Wanda turns to you next.

"What nightmares?" She questions, and you sigh, losing your appetite. "And why didn't you tell me about what you saw in the cup? And well, if you were worried, you could have asked if everything was okay with me, we've been at Hogwarts for a month now and..."

"Wanda." You interrupt with a short smile. "Calm down, okay? I was just trying to find the right time to talk to you about everything."

"I am calm, I just want to know why you are hiding things from me! " She hits back and you frown in surprise.

"Look who's talking!"

You regret the way you speak, because Wanda gasps in surprise, her gaze hurt. Your friends witness the discussion intently.

"What did you mean by that?" She retorts angrily.

"You know very well what I meant." You reply in the same tone, feeling your stomach turn in nervousness. "You always hide things, whether with your family, or with your magic! And you won't tell me what's going on with us!"

Wanda looks at you in a mixture of surprise, anger and hurt, and you feel your heart racing. Some students are looking at you curiously, but Wanda's lack of response only disappoints you. You cast her an angry glance before getting up and leaving the hall.

//=//

You feel bad that you have accused Wanda the moment you reach your dorm. You don't know if she has the answers you seek. But you are tired, because it seems that everyone is keeping secrets from you.

Throwing yourself down on the sofa, you sigh as you close your eyes. You don't feel like studying right now, but soon you have a Defense Against the Dark Arts period and you need to get up. You don't rush, though, using all the remaining time at lunch to calm yourself, trying to push out the thoughts that you and Wanda would no longer be friends.

Mantis meets you at the door to the communal hall as soon as you leave, and you thank her for bringing your backpack back. 

"Are you okay?" She asks as you both walk toward the tower.

"Yeah, it was just a silly argument." You mumble clumsily.

"Wanda was pretty upset after you left." She counters, and you mutter in understanding. "I hope you two can make up soon."

"Me too."

When you arrived at the D.A.D.A. room, few minutes later, you grumbled softly because you could only find chairs in the front, and students who sat near Professor Fury were always called in.

The professor entered soon after, his long black cape dragging across the floor, and the customary eye patch hiding a scar on his face.

"Good afternoon, everyone." He announced loudly as he entered, and waited until everyone was seated to begin. Drawing out his wand, he charmed the chalk on the blackboard to write the subject of the day. Some buzz began to circulate as the words "unforgivable curses" formed on the board. "Who here can tell me what the unforgivable curses are?"

The room was completely silent. Fury walked between the tables.

"No one?" He asked. "How disappointing."

You knew that no one answered the question because it was a huge taboo in the witch community to talk about the dark arts so freely. Professor Fury seemed to know that too, and that only seemed to make him angry.

“Unforgivable curses are three of the most powerful and sinister spells in the world of magic.��� Fury explains next. “Their use is forbidden in all magical communities, and if a wizard or witch casts any of them on another wizard or witch, they will receive a sentence in Azkaban.”

Fury made another motion with his wand and the closet at the back of the room opened, a small cage secured in an iron compartment with wheels crawled to the front. 

You and the rest of the room let out exclamations of surprise as you observed the creature inside. A large, hairy spider, very scary. Mantis shrank into the chair beside you.

"As an antidote to your ignorance, I recommend that you read the book of this subject before the next class, and bring me two scrolls about the first three chapters, specifying the history of the prohibition of unforgivable curses." Professor Fury then announced, drawing an unsatisfied buzz from the students. The room fell silent the next minute, however, as the professor opened the cage.

The spider moved on the iron, looking practically startled and shrinking into the cage. 

"The first unforgivable curse is the command curse." Fury explained, pointing his wand at the bug next. "Imperio."

You and the rest of the students watched in shock as the small crystallized flash came from the tip of the wand to the creature, which stretched its legs and then moved outward. It wasn't hard to deduce that it was Professor Fury who was controlling the spider, since from the movement of his wand, it was moving.

"The Imperium curse consists of absolute control of another living being." Fury told as he moved the spider around the room, drawing exclamations of fear and shock. "You see, during the last witch war, many sorcerers claimed that they were only fighting for Mephisto because of this curse." 

The mention of Mephisto made everyone hold their breath, but the professor didn't stop talking.

"The ministry found an efficient way to find out who was lying." He counters with a short smile. Bringing the spider back to the front of the room, to his desk for all to see, he holds it still. "You will find out eventually, children, that moral lines are usually broken during wars."

You exchanged a look with your colleagues, all clearly surprised and frightened. Fury cleared his throat, pointing his wand at the spider.

"Crucio" He spoke and unlike the other, no light came out. The spider cringed, making a high-pitched noise that filled the entire room. You understood that it was screaming in pain, and you felt your stomach clench. Before you knew it, you stood up abruptly, the noise attracting everyone's attention.

"Stop it!" You shouted angrily. "Can't you see you're hurting her?"

The teacher stopped, and you tried to control your uncompensated breathing. He cleared his throat, ignoring the buzz in the room as he extended his hand to the spider, which obediently climbed into his hand.

He turned to you, placing the animal on your desk, and you swallowed dryly, keeping your gaze on the back of the room, knowing exactly what was coming. Professor Fury looked at the creature with contempt. 

"The last unforgivable curse is the killing curse." He explains. "Avada Kedavra."

You close your eyes for a moment, feeling your body tremble. When you look down, the spider was dead. The room in complete silence.

You look at Professor Fury with watery eyes.

"No one should survive this curse." He tells you. Before you can say anything, he softens his expression, looking around. "And none survived, of course. Now, why aren't you guys writing down what I said?"

You don't feel very well for the rest of the class.

//-//

The vast majority of the students seem far more impressed with how dark Fury's classes have become than afraid. You can't say the same, because it seems that every time he has to explain something about dark magic, you feel sick. Gamora tried to cheer you up by joking that auror wouldn't be the right profession for you, but you've been so upset about the absence of Wanda that you've barely been able to smile.

As the first assignment approaches, you want to forget that you fought and apologize, but the girl also seems to be avoiding you, so you do the same.

Pietro has also been distant, and Nebula told you that he and Wanda were not yet on the best of terms, and Pietro was spending much more time with Monica and Darcy than with you all. 

When the day of the first task finally arrived, you ignored the fact that you were fighting and went to look for Wanda, unable to ignore the feeling of worry that took over your whole body.

You had no idea what the first task was going to be, but Miss Harkness had asked the whole school to go to the Quidditch field on Saturday, and there were tents set up at the north end. You told Gamora that you would join her in the stands in a moment, that you needed to talk to Wanda first, and you snuck through the crowd to reach the champions' tent area.

"Psst." You called out from between the canvas of the tent, recognizing the gloomy figure sitting in the corner of the place as you entered from the back. Wanda looked around, and then stood up, frowning when she could see your shadow.

Opening the tarp, she looked at you in a mixture of surprise and irritation.

"What do you want here?"

"I didn't come to fight with you." You let her know as you realize the tone in her voice. You bite your lips for a moment, and then sigh. "Damn, I missed you."

Wanda looks away, her cheeks reddening as she crosses her arms. You swallow dryly, ignoring your uncompensated heartbeat.

"Is this what you came for?" She asks half-heartedly, staring at the floor.

"No." You say. "I needed to make sure everything was okay, and I wanted to wish you good luck."

"Why do you care?" She hits back in defiance, and you roll your eyes.

"I'm still your friend, Wanda." You reply. "We fought, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you anymore."

Wanda looks away again, and you switch the weight on your foot.

"Well, that was it." You say. "Good luck to you."

"Thank you." She mumbles without looking at you. When you turn around, her arms wrap around you in a tight embrace. Wanda rests her head on your back and sighs, and you recover from the surprise, caressing her hands resting on your belly with your thumbs. Before you can turn to correspond properly, she releases you. "Now get out of here before a teacher sees you."

You smile at her before walking away.

//-//

Wanda would confront a dragon. You think you're controlling yourself pretty well despite everything.

She was going to be the last to do so, but your heart was already racing from the moment Principal Harkness walked to the center of the Quidditch pitch and after making the general announcements, nodded toward the locker room area that had been enchanted so that the beast could hide inside. The next minute there were witches bringing a dragon into the stadium and the crowd screamed with excitement and fear.

The champions needed to capture the golden egg for the second task, and well, everyone was curious to know how they would do it.

Gamora handed you a small booklet, and you frowned when you realized that it was an enchanted betting chart. She gave you a little smile, waving to someone behind her, and you noticed that almost all the people were betting on the winners, and the game flyers were circulating around the stands. You felt your stomach turn as you watched the enchanted drawing of a dragon spit fire at the image of three witches. 

You ended up handing the flyer to Mantis and didn't bet on anyone, focused on watching the task.

Jean Grey captured the egg in fifteen minutes. She took on the Common Welsh Green dragon, and everyone was impressed to watch her use a mirroring spell to confuse the dragon about the true location of the golden egg. She finished the task unhurt, and unseen and you joined the crowd in cheering, watching her receive the perfect score.

Maria Hill was injured in her ordeal, but this certainly brought a lot more entertainment to the audience. She faced the Norwegian Crested Back, and tried to bewitch the dragon with a sleeping spell, but the creature awoke as soon as she reached for the egg. 

The audience screamed with excitement as the dragon began to spit fire everywhere, furious. Fortunately, Maria only had minor burns, as she was able to charm the beast again. Her score was lower than Jean's, but still high.

When Wanda's turn came, many of the Gryffindor students began to boo, and you clenched your jaw. 

You relaxed momentarily when Wanda looked around the audience, smiling at you before focusing on the creature in front of her.

"That one looks bigger than the other two, huh?" you grumble to Gamora with concern as you observe the beast in the center of the field. 

"Maybe he's more docile." She remarks, but it's not true, especially since the next second the creature roars ferociously as it notices Wanda approaching.

The Ukrainian Iron Belly moved his long tail around the field, the iron chains swinging as he did. Wanda was holding her wand, hiding behind a rock. You can barely hear the crowd with the ringing in your ears, your heart racing a thousand an hour in your chest.

As Wanda approaches again, trying to bewitch the beast, the Iron Belly roars, raising its tail in the air to strike her. You blink in astonishment as you watch a shield spell form around Wanda. She rolls across the field, faster than the beast, and runs to reach the egg.

She casts a spell on its snout that leaves it bewildered long enough for her to grab the prize.

On the way back, the creature wags its tail rapidly across the field, roaring with irritation, and hits Wanda in the back, throwing her a few meters forward.

"Y/N what are you doing? Put that away!" Gamora warns you at the next second. You blink in confusion, realizing that you have your wand in hand, raising it in front of you. Gamora lowers your hands, and because of all the commotion, no one else seems to notice. She looks at you with concern, but you feel your mouth go numb; you need to help Wanda.

"Let me go, Wanda needs me." You grumble pushing her hands away, and hurrying to get down from the bleachers. Gamora calls out to you but you don't turn around.

The test continues on the field next to you, but you have to look forward to get down, pushing people aside as you rush to catch up to Wanda, your wand vibrating in your fingers as the rest of your body.

Professor Heimdall stops you at the edge of the stands.

"I need you to focus on my voice, Stark." He asks as he places his hands on your shoulders. You gasp in surprise, trying to turn your head to look at the field, but the firm grip holds you in place.

"Let me go." You ask panting, a pain beginning to well up in your head. "Wanda is in danger."

"Look at me." He commands as he lifts his thumbs to your cheek, pinning your face to look at him. You stare at the yellow irises feeling your breath hitch. You need to help Wanda. But somehow, as the seconds tick by, the yellow eyes are all you can think about. "Pull yourself together. Can't you hear the celebration from the audience? Wanda has completed the test. She is safe."

You choke on the professor's words, feeling an urge to cry with relief. He keeps his expression serious, though.

"Pull it together. Keep your wand away." He commands. "Don't tell anyone about this, not everyone is your friend here."

"W-what?"

But Professor Heimdall lets you go, quickly taking your wand and putting it back in your cloak pocket. He looks around, and smiles at someone behind you. Only now you notice the celebratory noise around you, and you turn around. The crowd is descending, and Principal Harkness is announcing the final scores.

Your friends are coming toward you, happy and smiling. Professor Heimdall steps aside to join the teachers' group, and then you are being dragged with your friends to the center of the field, along with the rest of the crowd celebrating the end of the task. You hear fireworks and shouts of victory, but your gaze is searching for Wanda.

She is shaking hands with the Minister of Magic, Johann Shmidt, and you gasp when you catch sight of her. She has barely turned toward you, smiling and waving shyly when she realizes that you and your friends are coming to greet her, when you run toward her, throwing your arms around her when you reach her.

"Wow." She gasps in surprise, but hugs you back, chuckling softly. You don't let go, and soon your friends are hugging you two too. And they are laughing and celebrating, and you are holding back your tears, not understanding why the possibility of losing Wanda seems worse than death.

//-//

Things get better after the first task. After you left the Quidditch camp, you joined the celebration in the Slytherin communal hall, which was filled with people from all the houses.

All the students who had stood against Wanda before she defeated the dragon now seemed keen to become her friends, praising her and congratulating her on the way she killed the beast. 

You still don't understand what exactly happened, but Wanda used some spell that hit the creature in the heart, and well, killing the dragon earned her first place. The other directors were not happy with the judge's decision, but the rest of the school certainly liked it.

You are in the corner of the room, surrounded by your friends and Tony's friends, trying to stay sociable while ignoring how tired you feel.

"Why are you so quiet?" Gamora asks you softly, noticing your lack of enthusiasm to join in the explosive snap game that Quill has just suggested to everyone. 

"It's nothing." You lie forcing a smile. Professor Heimdall's words still echoing in your head. "I'm just not in the mood to party. I guess I'm sleepy."

Gamora murmurs in understanding, assessing your face for a few moments. But Nebula is pulling her sister over to look at the items Tony got on his last trip to Hogsmeade, and you don't join in the conversation. 

Your gaze searches for Wanda, who is locked in conversation with a seventh grader who has never spoken to you guys before, but seemed very willing to become Wanda's friend now that she has become a champion.

You were thinking of waiting until Wanda had finished talking to the girl to say good-bye, but then you felt irritation boil up in the pit of your stomach as you watched the older girl toss her hair to the side, her hand running up Wanda's arm, as Wanda gave her a wry smile. 

You really didn't want to watch Wanda flirting with anyone, so you hurried out of the dorm, hopefully everyone would be busy enough with the party to notice.

Outside, as you turned the corner, you saw something you didn't want to see.

Tony and Steve were kissing against a wall, your brother's hands inside the other boy's shirt. You let out a loud exclamation of shock, covering your eyes.

"God, get a room!" You complained loudly with your eyes closed, feeling your cheeks very hot. You heard Tony and Steve giggle, and waited a moment to open your eyes, only to find Steve very red, looking away, and your brother with his arms crossed.

"Don't be such a baby." He teased. "One of these days I'm going to find you like this."

You choke lightly, letting out an indignant laugh.

"Excuse me, but I don't want to hook up with anyone in the corners of the castle." You mumble in embarrassment, and Tony exchanges a look with Steve, letting out a chuckle.

"Damn, do girls go through puberty later or something?" He teases and you look at him wide-eyed. "I'm teasing you little sister, no need to freak out about it." He mocks as he pulls Steve by the sleeve, when he is walking away, he turns his head to you again. "Let me know if you change your mind, I bet Natasha that you were going to propose to Wanda this year!" He shouts before turning down the hall, leaving you behind with cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

You figure you'd better get back to the dorm before you run into some teacher.

//-//

You have another nightmare during the night. As real as the vision you had during the quidditch cup. You see the graveyard and the red light, but this time, it is you who is attacking. You wake up in fright, but feeling absolutely exhausted, you go back to sleep almost immediately afterwards. This time you dream of someone holding your hand.

//-//

"Have you decided who you're going to ask to the dance?" It is the first question Gamora asks you during breakfast, and you choke on your pumpkin juice. She ignores your reaction and continues talking. "By the way, where were you last night?"

"I told you I was tired." You reply wiping up the juice you spilled with a napkin. "I went back to my dorm."

"You missed the best part of the party." She retorted excitedly. "Some Ravenclaw kids conjured up a fireworks dragon and someone handed out candy from Honeydukes to everyone."

"Sounds amazing." You grumble before going back to eating. Gamora looks at you expectantly, and you sigh, understanding that she is waiting for you to answer her first question. "I don't know if I want to go to the dance."

"You’re not going to the dance?" It is Wanda who asks as she arrives at the table. You almost choke again, but just roll your eyes at the insinuating look Gamora gives you as Wanda sits down. 

"Oh, she's just saying that because no one invited her." Gamora teases with an insinuating tone, and you try to hit her but she laughs as she moves away from your grasp.

"You know, you can ask someone if you want to. You don't have to wait for the invitation." Nebula then suggests, and you are surprised because she wasn't even paying attention to the conversation, a spell book laid out in front of her. "Unless you're afraid of rejection."

"What is it with you guys today?" You mutter irritatedly, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you observe the insinuating glances of the two girls in front of you. "Besides, why are you talking about invitations, Gamora? Who invited you?"

Gamora lets out a shy giggle, and then looks away. She nods toward Quill, and you let out a surprised exclamation.

"And you're just telling me this now?" You retort excitedly.

"You're the one who left the party yesterday!" She replies. "He invited me last night, and I was going to tell you, but you left without even looking back."

You roll your eyes with amusement.

"Are you really waiting for someone to invite you?" Wanda asks next, and you look at her, feeling your heart miss a beat. What the hell is going on with you lately?

"I... well, I don't know." You answer clumsily. "I haven't really thought about it.”

"But you want to be asked?" Wanda inquires and you swallow dryly. 

"I don't know, maybe."

"But if someone were to invite you now, would you like it?"

"I..."

"God, just ask her at once!" Gamora interrupts impatiently, causing you and Wanda to look at her wide-eyed. Nebula lets out a chuckle, without looking away from the book on your desk. Gamora gestures in Wanda's direction. "Sorry, girls, I just got a little carried away. Please, Wanda, continue with your embarrassing attempt to ask the dumbest person in this school to the dance."

You mumble clumsily, feeling your cheeks warm. Wanda giggles.

The brunette next to you pokes you lightly in the ribs, and waits for you to look at her again before speaking.

"Gamora's right, actually." She says shyly, and you feel your heart speed up. "All champions need to dance at the ball, and well, the first person I thought of asking was you." She confesses quickly. "But it's okay if you don't want to go..."

"No!" you interrupt quickly, feeling your face hot. You smile next. "I'd love to go to the dance with you, Wands."

Wanda looks at you for a few seconds, and you look back. Your stomach flipping with nervousness.

"I'm getting diabetes." Nebula comments next, breaking the moment. Gamora laughs, pushing her shoulder lightly against her sister as you and Wanda look forward uncomfortably.

"Stop it, they're adorable." Gamora hits back with a smile, you clear your throat, feeling embarrassed as you pretend to pay attention to the daily prophet lying on the table and not the presence of the brunette next to you or the comments of your friends.

//-//

Things go well between you and Wanda after that. The discussion you two had is long forgotten. You imagine that Gamora and Tony think that as you begin to help Wanda try to decipher the egg, that you have mentioned to her the connection you have been feeling, but you have not yet found the moment to speak up.

You told her about the other things, though. About the sky mark on the Quidditch canopy, and Tony's investigation of your father and the followers of Mephisto. Wanda was also surprised to learn that Howard and Erik had been friends in school days, but she knew as little as you did about all the issues. You felt bad for having accused her of hiding things from you, and bought Honeydukes candy to apologize.

And so time passed, and the day of the winter ball finally arrived.

To say that you were looking forward to it was an understatement. And you weren't the only one, as during the whole day, the vast majority of the students talked only about this.

Your prom outfits arrived the same day during breakfast. You had written to Jarvis to buy Gamora's and Nebula's costumes as well, and they were very happy to receive the dresses. Tony had a piece of toast in his mouth when you left his suit that arrived in the same package as yours on the table, before you turned to check your own outfit.

"It's very nice, isn't it?" You commented to Gamora as soon as you held out the material aloft. The girl let out a sigh of excitement.

"My god, you're going to look beautiful!" She exclaims, and then gives you an insinuating look. "In fact, you're already a cutie." She teases with a wink, making you laugh. 

"Good morning." Wanda said as she joined you, she widened her eyes slightly when she realized that you were looking at the ball costumes. 

"Great, you're here!" Gamora speaks to the brunette excitedly. "I want to see your dress!".

Wanda smiled awkwardly.

"It's in my room." She informs you as she sits down next to Gamora. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment, but when you notice, she deflects. "You can see it when we go to get ready."

The conversation eventually went in the direction of comparing outfits and forming combinations, and then you thought it best to put your clothes away before they got dirty with some of the delicious food from the breakfast.

//-//

You were a little surprised to hear that the girls were going to start getting ready for the ball as early as the afternoon, but you didn't object to joining them in the Slytherin communal hall, taking your costume package with you.

"Are you going to wear any makeup?" Gamora asked you as you all stood in the Slytherin dormitory bathroom, which had several girls in it. Fortunately the communal hall was the most luxurious in the entire school and had enough space for everyone. You were sitting on one of the sink benches, after showering and putting on your prom costume, waiting for the girls to finish.

"I don't know how to wear makeup, Gamora." You respond by looking at her. She smiles, looking away from the mirror to look at you. 

"If you want, I can help you." She says and seeing your hesitation, she smiles. "Only if you want me to, honey."

"I don't know." You say. "Maybe just lipstick."

Gamora laughs lightly, nodding in agreement. Nebula starts complaining loudly next, not being able to button the zippers of her dress properly, and Gamora gives a giggle, stepping aside to help her sister. 

"Stop moving." Gamora warns Nebula, and you chuckle at the scene. Wanda is coming out of the cabin she had come in from to put on her dress, and you feel your breath hitch when you see her. She is adjusting the straps and smiles shyly at the look you cast at her, and you do your best to cover it up.

"You look pretty." She comments as she approaches, looking at you for a moment before looking away to the mirror.

"You look beautiful, Wanda." You retort the next moment, half out of breath. Wanda smiles, her cheeks reddening as she keeps her gaze on her own reflection, fixing her hair.

"Wanda, help Y/N with her makeup, I think Nebula messed up her zipper." Gamora asks the next moment, pulling out her wand to concertize her sister's clothes, who fusses impatiently. You and Wanda share a giggle at the scene, but your giggle dies as Wanda approaches you, a lipstick in her hands. 

"I think this color suits your costume." She comments with a smile, opening the lipstick and lifting it to your face height. You feel your breath hitch, watching with slightly wide eyes as Wanda stands between your legs and touches your face with her other hand to hold you in place. "Stand still so it doesn't smudge."

You want to tell her you're not going anywhere, but she's putting the makeup on you in the next second. You keep your mouth ajar, trying to ignore the tingling sensation you feel on your skin where Wanda's fingers are touching, or the way your heart is racing. Wanda is concentrating on her task, and bites her lower lip as she puts on your make-up. 

"There you go." She whispers as she pushes the lipstick away from your lips, her gaze lingering on your mouth however. The dark glow in her irises makes your stomach do a flip-flop. You think Wanda is going to kiss you, because she is so close and her fingers are still on your chin, and you wish she would.

But Gamora lets out an exclamation of satisfaction as she manages to tidy up her sister's dress, and Wanda frowns, shaking her head slightly as she steps back.

"You look gorgeous, Y/N!" Gamora says as soon as she glances at you, making you smile awkwardly. You're feeling a little out of breath from all the interaction with Wanda, so you just keep your gaze on your own lap, waiting for the girls to finish the finishing touches. Nebula remarks something about a funny story in the Daily Prophet next and you get distracted.

//-//

You are a nervous wreck when you all reach the main hall. 

Gamora nods to Quill, standing in the doorway in his dark brown suit, looking very handsome with the tie that matches his eyes. He flashes her a contented smile as they greet each other with a kiss on the cheek. You see Pietro and Monica have entered the room as well, their arms intertwined. Darcy is right behind, accompanied by a girl you don't know.

You clear your throat, turning to Wanda as you stop at the entrance, but Professor Okoye catches up with you before you can ask if Wanda wants to come in yet.

"Maximoff, dear, there you are." Okoye announces sounding rushed. "The dance of champions is about to begin, I imagine you'll be the partner, right miss Stark?"

"R-right, professor." You reply and the woman nods in agreement, grabbing yours and Wanda's arm to drag you to a corner, where the other champions were already waiting. She hurried out the next moment, signaling to the students outside to come in that she needed to announce the start of the dance.

"Are you ready?" you ask Wanda ignoring the nervous feeling in your stomach. The brunette smiles, her hand slipping into yours and making your heart soar.

"I hope I don't stumble." She retorts with a shy smile, you think she looks absolutely stunning.

"Don't worry." You say looking forward, the other champions straightening up to get in line. "I won't let you fall."

//-//

You twist Wanda in your arms to the rhythm of the music, a laugh escaping your lips. This is already the fourth song in a row that you have danced to together, and the feeling is so incredible that you think you will dance all night.

Two more songs later, you feel thirsty and approach Wanda to tell her you'll get a drink for you two, completely oblivious to the way the girl's cheeks flush when you whisper in her ear.

At the drinks table, Gamora approaches you, her cheeks rosy.

"I just kissed Peter!" She announces and you almost knock over the punch.

"What?" you ask in surprise and your sister laughs, maybe from nervousness or excitement, you can't tell. "Did you like it?

"Sure." She assures you with a smile, looking pleased. You make a mental note to tease her about her blushing cheeks another time. "It was weird the first time, but the sensation is really good when you get the rhythm right."

You nod in understanding, not knowing exactly what you can add in this matter.

"And what are you doing here with me? Go kiss your boyfriend!" You tease next, smiling encouragingly and making Gamora laugh. She turns to leave, but then decides to tell you something.

"Don't forget to tell me how it was with Wanda. I think kissing a girl must feel different."

She then leaves, laughing lightly at your shocked expression. Your heart is racing because the only thing you can think about right now is the possibility of kissing Wanda.

Your gaze returns to the dance floor, and you feel your nervousness increase. Wanda dances timidly to the rhythm of the music, her hips swaying and her eyes closed. She looks beautiful. She is beautiful. Out of your reach.

You shake your head to push these thoughts away, and you take a deep breath before walking over to her again with the drinks in your hand.

//-//

After drinking and dancing to three more songs, the band finally changes to a softer melody, and you smile shyly at Wanda as you hold out your hand to her.

With your hands together, you hold Wanda around the waist, and she rests her free hand on your shoulder. She is blushing at the closeness of your faces, so she gives you a shy smile before resting her chin on the hand on your shoulder. You enjoy the proximity as you move slowly to the rhythm of the music.

You close your eyes, feeling quite good this way. In her arms. Peaceful.

When the music ends, it takes a moment for you to move away, your hands remaining together. 

Wanda looks at you for a moment, and then nods her head to the side to signal you two to leave. You bite your lips as she takes you by the hand to escort you out of the room.

You are too busy thinking about the feeling of your hands intertwined to worry about the path, and are slightly surprised when you end up in an empty room.

Wanda lets go of your hand as you enter. And you close the door as she walks inside. She stops walking when she reaches the teacher's desk, and turns around, leaning against the wood. You watch her twist the rings on her fingers nervously as you walk toward her. 

You stop at the desk in front of her, mimicking her motion of leaning against the wood as you risk a glance at her.

"What are we doing here, Wands?" You ask ignoring your heartbeat quickened by the tension in the air.

Wanda looks at you, pressing her lips together for a moment. 

"What do you think?" She retorts with slight defiance, and you bite back a smile, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"You... you know we don't have to do anything just because everyone else is doing it, right?" You say, and Wanda lets out a short laugh, looking at you slightly impressed. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just that's such a Gryffindor thing to say. Very chivalrous." She teases and you chuckle awkwardly, shrugging your shoulders.

"Well, I am a hatstall after all." You mutter and Wanda frowns in confusion. You shake your head, briefly mentioning what the sorting hat told you in first year and drawing an impressed exclamation from Wanda.

"That's pretty awesome, you know, right?" she adds with a smile.

"Yeah, I'm pretty awesome indeed." You joke making Wanda laugh.

"Oh, there's the Slytherin part I see." She teases. "But I haven't found your Ravenclaw trait yet, are you sure you inherited the intelligence?"

You pretend to be offended for a moment with a grimace, and Wanda laughs, unconsciously or consciously stepping forward.

"Excuse me, but I am a very competent sorceress."  You argue smiling, ignoring the nervousness that grows as the proximity between you two increases. "Best charm student in the whole school."

"Oh, really?" Wanda retorts. "Last time I checked I had that position."

"It's okay, we can share first place." You assure almost in a whisper, Wanda is too close for you to think of adding anything else right now.

"There's the Hufflepuff." She says with a shy smile, approaching you one last time. You can feel her breath against your cheek, the emerald eyes fixed on yours. You swallow dryly, risking a look at the lips so inviting. "I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

"Not if I kiss you first." You breathlessly challenge, and Wanda smiles before moving forward, both of you closing your eyes at the same time as you meet her halfway.

Her lips were soft, just as you imagined they would be. You swallow hard, feeling your whole body heat up. You stood with your mouths together for a moment, before Wanda pulled away, her breathing uncompensated as much as yours, as your lips tingle. 

"Kiss me again." She asks hoarsely, and you move forward. This time it's even better, because Wanda's hands go to your neck and yours to her waist. And when she sighs, you ask for passage with your tongue, following your instincts completely.

The sensation is intoxicating, and sends a shiver through your whole body. Wanda tastes like cherry punch, and you gasp at the sensation of your tongues together, squeezing her waist lightly.

You parted for breath, keeping your foreheads together and your eyes closed.

"Wow." You exclaimed softly breathlessly.

"Yeah, I know." She agrees in the same tone, her hands coming down from your neck to squeeze your shoulders lightly. Wanda kisses you again, her tongue moving against yours slowly, exploring your mouth. You moan softly at the sensation and Wanda pulls away breathlessly, blushing due the sound she has managed to wring out.

"S-sorry." You gasp quickly, feeling your cheeks as hot as the rest of your body.

"Don't be." She says. "That was hot."

You let out a clumsy laugh, and Wanda copies, and the moment dissipates from palpable tension to humorous lightness. You kiss briefly before Wanda circles her arms around your shoulders in a hug that you reciprocate equally.

"Do you want to go back to the party?" You ask when she breaks the embrace, but her hands remain intertwined behind your neck. 

"Not really." She replies with a smile, biting her lips as she looks at you. " I just came to be with you."

"Oh, yeah?" You ask with slight teasing, and Wanda lowers her gaze to your lips.

"Hu-huh. And now that I have you, I don't want to let you go."

You smile, lifting your hands to her neck, caressing her nape lightly as you kiss her again, not as intensely as before, and with a smile on your lips.

When you pull away, Wanda is smiling too.

"Don't worry, Wands. I'm not going anywhere."

//-//

After the ball, there is a new tension in your relationship with Wanda that makes you lose focus on anything other than her. 

Gamora missed no opportunity to tease you about this. And every time she caught you casting passionate glances at Wanda, or the other way around, you got a wry comment to get a room. It was harmless, but it made you and Wanda both blush like tomatoes.

The best change was the kisses. 

They could happen suddenly, or be almost planned. Wanda liked to take you by surprise, you could tell. Stealing firm kisses between corridors that made you blush and clumsy, or kisses when you spent time together with your friends, and her hand slipped into yours. 

You loved all the kisses she wanted to give you. But you had your favorites. The ones that happened when you were alone, and all you could think about was Wanda. They were usually planned, because to have free time, without friends, you need a little organization. So they usually happened when you went to Hogsmeade together, or when you helped her study for the tournament. It was amazing to finish a study session with Wanda's mouth on yours.

But you knew you still needed to talk to her. You were afraid you would lose the kisses if you did.

As the date for the second assignment approached, Wanda began to get anxious, because you all still hadn't deciphered the golden egg clue.

At that moment you were in the Slytherin communal room, sitting cross-legged on the floor with many books around you. Wanda was lying on the couch, a book enchanted to be at her eye level. Gamora and Nebula in the armchairs, also reading. You are trying to find some clue to decipher the egg.

"We've tried the basic open and close spells, right?" Gamora asks without taking her eyes off the book, probably reading about what she mention. 

"Of course." Wanda replies. She sighs in frustration the next moment, taking the enchanted book off her face, and closing it in her lap. You move your hand to hers, trying to reassure her. "I need to figure this out soon, because the task is in a few weeks."

"We will." You tell her with a smile.

"Just out of curiosity, what happens if you don't break out the clue?" Nebula asks and Wanda sighs.

"I won't have any idea what the second task is about and I won't know how to prepare."  She replies. "And then I'll lose and be humiliated in front of the whole school. Feel free to drown me in the great lake if that happens."

Wanda's dramatization makes you all laugh, but then you get an idea and your expression fades. Wanda, who was watching you, looks at you curiously, but you are already getting up, hurrying to get the golden egg that was on the couch.

"What are you going to do?" Gamora asked, as curious as the other girls. You walked over to one of the aquariums and held the egg up high.

"Sorry, folks." You said to the fish, and then opened the clasp. The shrill noise filled the room, but before the girls could complain, you dipped the egg into the water and the sound stopped.

You leaned forward and could hear the low melody.

"I can' believe it." You grumbled contentedly, and then dipped your head into the water. Your friends looked at you with wide eyes.

"Has she finally lost her mind?" Nebula sneered at the other two.

When you surfaced again, you had a smile on your face.

"Girls, it's the merpeople!" You counted excitedly. "That's the clue. I can't believe we stared at the great lake all this time and didn't come up with this idea."

Natasha entered the communal hall next, and when she saw your wet torso, she frowned.

" Should I ask...?" She began with mild irony, watching you take the egg from the aquarium and return to the couches, the water dripping all over the hall.

"She just deciphered the egg!" Wanda warned contentedly, and when you approached, she ran her hands down your neck and gave you a lingering kiss, and you almost dropped the egg on the floor.

"For merlin, get a room." Nat teased before Gamora could do it, and you and Wanda parted with giggles.

You used the wand to dry your body and the floor, returning the egg to Wanda. Nat sat down in one of the free armchairs.

After you finished cleaning up, you repeated the lyrics of the song to them. 

"Does that mean you're going to be underwater for an hour?" Nebula questioned in surprise to Wanda, and the girl sighed.

"I guess so." She replied thoughtfully. "And now I'm going to need to figure out a way to do that."

"If you were an animagus, you could turn into a fish." Nat mocked making the group smile. 

"I thought you'd have a better resistance to holding your breath, Wands. Since you're kissing all the time." Nebula added and Gamora and Nat laughed, while you rolled your eyes awkwardly, and Wanda raised her middle finger at the girl, her cheeks flushed.

"Let's focus, please." Asked the sorceress in front of you, embarrassed by the teasing.

"Yes, yes." Gamora agreed, gesturing. She settled herself in the armchair before speaking again. "I think you could use some plants. I'm sure Mantis must know some herb that will make you breathe underwater."

"Speaking of Mantis, where is she?" Nat asked and you turned your head in her direction.

"She has private lessons with Professor Heimdall, Tasha." You explained. "Of divination. She's pretty good, I think."

Nat murmurs in understanding, and Wanda says she will talk to Mantis about it when she is free. You gather up the books, and decide to spend some time playing chess and drinking tea now that you no longer have to worry about unraveling the egg.

//-//

You miss many opportunities to tell Wanda about your connection with her. That's because you have too many moments alone, between conversations and make-out sessions, and you just don't tell. And the feeling of keeping something from her corrupts you inside, but you bear it.

And then the date for the second task comes, and you're a nervous wreck, and Wanda doesn't understand why you're especially affectionate this morning, but she's not complaining.

Mantis got some kind of plant for her, which would give Wanda enough time to stay submerged as long as necessary.

You and the girls had also practiced swimming in the great lake with Wanda many times since the day you discovered the clue. And the vision of Wanda in her swimsuit was still preserved somewhere in your mind.

"Have you seen Pietro anywhere?" Wanda asked annoyed, looking around as you all had breakfast. The vast majority of the school was already on their feet as well, excited for the start of the task.

"I last saw him last night, after we went to Quidditch practice." Quill counters distractedly, passing jam on one of the toasts. 

"You two had worked things out, right?" You ask as you are sitting next to Wanda, she nods and then sighs.

"I think so." She mumbles. "I wanted to see him before the task."

You bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing how to help her. It was already time to leave, and you hoped that Pietro wouldn't be so stubborn to stay away from his sister on this day. You kept your hand intertwined in Wanda's all the way, trying to assure her, and she was very grateful.

The clue was right after all. The whole school was carried to the middle of the lake through the boats, up to huge iron bleachers that were conjured up during the night. 

"You look so cute in that uniform." You comment in Wanda's ear before bidding her farewell to go up to the bleachers, talking about the Slytherin competition uniform, and smiling at the way her cheeks redden. "Be careful, Wands."

"I will." She assures before kissing you. She joins the champions and you look at her one last time before going upstairs to join the rest of the students.

When Principal Harkness announces the start of the task, after explaining that an important treasure had been taken from the champions and they would need to find it in the lake, you stand with your body tense with nervousness, clenching your hands on the railing as you look down.  The whistle sounds and you hold your breath as you watch Wanda dive in. 

"Hey, are you going to be okay?" Gamora asks next to you, placing her hand on top of yours on the metal. You swallow dryly, looking away from the lake to her.

"I will." You say trying to force a smile. "As long as she does."

Gamora looks at you a moment, assessing your face.

"I'm sure Wanda will be fine." She says. 

You nod, looking down again. Now all that was left to do was wait.

//-//

"Did you hear what Tony just said?" 

You blinked a few times. You were in the circle with your friends in the bleachers, and you got distracted again by looking at the lake. Everyone was anxiously awaiting the return of the champions to the surface, talking among themselves and placing bets on the winners. Tony's friends joined in as soon as the task began.

"Sorry, Gamora." You say. "What?"

"Natasha is missing too." She says and you frown in confusion looking at the rest of the group. 

"What?"

"Pietro and Tasha, Y/N." Gamora says. "Tony just said they were supposed to meet last night, but she didn't show up. And no one saw her, just like Pietro."

You didn't know exactly what to make of that, but when you looked at the lake, you frowned.

"Gamora, you don't think that..."

"That's exactly what we're thinking." It is Tony who speaks now, looking at your expression and deciphering the idea that has gone through your head. "I just talked to the Durmstrang guys. One of their boys vanishes at night too, I think he's Grey's best friend."

You widened your eyes, and then leaned on the railing, looking down. Tony and Gamora mimicked your position.

"That's insane." Gamora commented, and you nodded in agreement.

"What happens if the champions lose the task?" Tony asked and you shook your head, not liking the possibility.

"I'm sure Professor Harkness wouldn't let anything bad happen." You say. "Right?"

Gamora and Tony murmur in agreement, and you find that your words were more to reassure you than to reassure them.

//-//

With thirty-eight minutes on the clock, Jean Grey emerged from the lake. And she was not alone.

The crowd started cheering as she and Scott Lang, as Harkness announced, swam out of the lake. Reporters from the Daily Prophet were also taking several pictures, and you noticed the Durmstrang flags in the hands of some students.

Your friends seemed reassured to see Scott's condition, deducing that Pietro and Natasha would also be fine. You only felt more nervous because Wanda was still at the lake.

Twelve minutes after Jean, it was Maria Hill's turn to step up. The crowd celebrated as they watched the remainder of her transfiguration into a shark before she returned to human form, bringing Nat with her. You and your friends rushed downstairs to Tasha, but you barely caught Gamora's teasing about the redhead being the treasure of the foreign student, as your gaze was on the lake while you were on the edge.

"Ten minutes to the end of the second task!" Announced one of the judges loudly, causing the crowd to cheer. You felt your stomach drop. Where was Wanda? 

And then you saw her. But only inside your head. 

It was another vision, and you felt your body go cold as if you were in the lake. It was dark and blue, and you couldn't breathe properly.

Then you blinked and were back in the stands.

With a sob, you jumped into the lake.

Immediately, as soon as you did, the crowd and the teachers looked at you with shock, but you dove in the next.

It was very cold.

The lake was as dark underneath as you thought it would be. And you were gradually running out of air as you sank, but you didn't care. You needed to find Wanda.

When you began to lose consciousness, you thought you saw a light, and struggled to swim a little further. But then your air ran out completely, and you passed out.

//-//

You woke up in a jolt, feeling like you were drowning. 

But you were warm, and lying on a soft surface. It took you a few seconds to realize that it was the bed in the infirmary.

The warmth came from the comforter at the level of your neck, clearly bewitching judging by the way it shimmered softly.

"Hey." It was Wanda. At your side. Safe. 

You moved out of the covers quickly, your hand reaching for hers on the bed.

"Hey, how are you feeling? You didn't get hurt did you?" The questions escaped your mouth faster than you even thought about them. Wanda had a frown on her face, but she squeezed your hand back and with the other she touched your face, and you leaned into the touch, feeling your body relax.

"I'm fine, I promise." She assures. "I just don't understand why you did that."

"Did what exactly?" You ask confused, trying to remember how you ended up in the infirmary. Had you hit your head somewhere?

Wanda looks at you with confusion.

"Jump in the lake." She clarified. "Why did you jump in the lake after me?"

You blinked in surprise, giving a short laugh.

"What are you talking about, Wands?" you asked. "I was watching you. Are you sure I didn't fall? Maybe I hit my head and..."

"You don't remember?" She interrupts in shock, and then lets out an incredulous sigh. "Okay, now I'm even more worried."

You were feeling your head aching, and you rubbed your fingers over the tip of your forehead a moment, before sighing.

"What happened to you in the task, anyway? You were gone long." 

Wanda looked away from yours, biting her lip.

"It was nothing." She grumbled and you frowned.

"Wanda..." You started. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." She retorted snidely. But when she looked at you, she didn't keep her gaze and you sighed, letting go of her hand and throwing yourself back on the bed, feeling frustrated. "I just don't want you to think I'm weird."

You frown at the statement, turning your head to look at her again. Wanda takes a deep breath before confessing.

"I've been having visions in my head." 

You think you can laugh at the irony of the facts. Wanda takes advantage of your lack of reaction to continue explaining.

"S-started last year. I... I don't know what they mean, but sometimes they make me too distracted. And well, I had one during the task, and I got lost. So it took me a while to find Pietro, but I was fine." She recounts. "You didn't have to jump in the lake and..."

"I saw you." You interrupt half breathlessly. "In my head. I... I thought you were drowning." You recount recalling, feeling a slight pain deep in your eyes. "It was dark and I felt like I was being pulled under."

Wanda's eyes widen.

"I fought with Grindylows down there for a moment." She says. "They tried to pull me to the bottom, and well, it was quite despairing, but I managed to take them on. It was right after I got lost."

"R-right."

Both of you are silent for a moment, your breaths slightly uncompensated as you try to understand exactly what it all means. You clear your throat deciding to break the silence.

"Wanda, what happened to me?" 

"You almost drowned." She says lowering her gaze to the bed. "I found you on the way back. Unconscious." Wanda counters with watery eyes. "For a moment I thought..."

She sighs softly, controlling the urge to cry by shaking her head slightly and forcing a smile. You feel horrible for worrying her like that.

"Heimtall and Strange jumped into the lake a little later behind you. I guess everyone thought you were playing tricks, but when you didn't climb back up they realized something was wrong. I was trying to carry you along with Pietro when they caught up with us."

"Come here." You ask opening your arms and Wanda climbs on the bed, sinking against you. You both immediately relax from the embrace, and you close your eyes as Wanda buries her face in your neck, running her hands behind your back.

"Please don't ever do anything like that again." She whispers against your skin, and you swallow dryly. Judging from the facts, you can't promise her that.

//-//

Your friends came to visit you in the infirmary too. You had a short episode of hypothermia, so Nurse Cho wanted you to rest and had let only Wanda stay to see you. Everyone had agreed that you would like to see her first. 

Tony told the teachers and judges that he had dared you to jump in the lake, and even though your friends didn't understand why Tony didn't want the adults to know what was going on with you lately, they all backed up the story.

You and Tony ended up with a month's detention for this.

The only relatively good thing about this whole story was that you and Wanda shared the same experiences. You told her about your visions and nightmares, and she told you about hers. Visions of red lights as her powers, and masked witches. 

You talked to Wanda about your connection on a rainy Thursday in May. You both were on your bed in the dormitory, a few spell books between you to finish the lesson Professor Stephen had passed on, and Wanda was concentrating, the strands of brown hair falling down her face as she bit the end of her pencil and read the words in front of you. She was beautiful, and you were in love. And you could no longer hide it.

"I need to tell you something." 

Wanda looked at you with a mildly surprised expression, but smiled, shifting on the bed to look at you.

You watched her expression go from confused, to embarrassed, and then to worried in a few seconds after the words "There's something weird going on with me. I think I'm magically connected to you, and I'm not just talking about liking you" came out of your mouth. And then you told about the way you felt every time you thought of her in danger, and Wanda swallowed dryly, looking away.

"I don't know what to say." She confessed clumsily, and then clasped her hands to her face for a moment in frustration. "Shit, I have no idea what that means."

You sighed, reaching out to reach for her hand on the bed. Wanda watched your fingers together, and you frowned as her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm putting you in danger, aren't I?" She asked in a whisper, and you looked at her with confusion, but she didn't wait for you to speak. "I'm talking about the lake. You almost drowned to follow me. What happens if I get hurt?"

"Wanda..."

"No." She interrupts forcing a smile, and releasing his hand. "Do you realize how dangerous magical connections can be? What happens if, I don't know, the third task is even more dangerous? Will you throw yourself in front of some other monster? How far does it go? I don't want your life to depend on mine!"

Wanda stands up, babbling nervously about things that might happen, and you look at her in surprise, standing up as well. You try to touch her shoulder, but she pushes your hand away.

"Do you even know if you really like me? If it isn't just because of the magic?" She accuses and you take a step back.

"Don't say that." You retort starting to feel irritated and hurt.

"No, I mean it." She repeats in a whiny voice. "How can you be sure your feelings are real? It could just be the magic and.... "

"I am in love with you." You interrupt, but Wanda just shakes her head in disbelief, letting the tears flow. When you try to touch her again, she sobs and pulls away. "Wanda, I really am. Please..."

"Stop." She gasps as she pulls further away. "Just stop." She asks and you hold yourself in place, feeling your face wet. Wanda takes a deep breath, wiping away her tears. "I need time. I don't...I don't know what to make of this right now."

You swallow dryly, looking at her in shock.

"I don't want us to end." You say and Wanda just sobs softly, shaking her head.

"I can't stay with you without knowing if what you feel for me is real." She retorts in a voice hoarse from crying, but her gaze doesn't flinch. Your stomach turns the wrong way, because you feel terrible. "I need time to think. And I can't think with you by my side."

"Wanda..."

"I'm sorry." 

Then she left. And you let the tears flow freely. 

//-//

Tag list> // @sxfwap​ // @table57​ ||@imapotatao​ / @aimezvousbrahms​/ @ensorcellme​/ @helloalycia​@mionemymind / @abimess​ / @stephanieromanoff​ / @yourtaletotell​ / @tomy5girls​ / @justagaypanicking​ / @thegayw1tch​ / @idek-5​ // @myperfectlovepoem​ // @helloalycia​ // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam​ // @olsensnpm​

[meltwonu]

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [CHAPTER 4]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, fingering, littlest bit of dirty talk, praise!kink, soft soft soft FLUFF hours, a bit of a filler chapter before the last chapter!! 😭 I can’t believe it’s almost ‘over’... This chapter has the least amount of smut yall will ever see with fratboy!wonwoo so don’t get used to it ☠️ LMAO 🤣🤣 also... it’s been a garbage week(boring work drama) for me so I’ll answer inbox msgs and stuff on sunday, I need to get away from the internet(and people) for a day dkfjhskh 😭💕 Ya’ll thank you for so much love and support with Caffeine and Until I Met You! It means so much to me and I appreciate every like, reblog and comment I get on it 🥺💕 No I will never be ending my fratboy!wonwoo au so don’t worry about that hehe 💕 For now, enjoy this soft ch 4 and I will see yall on Sunday! I love you, have a great weekend! 💕

[mood for this chapter: more than enough - alina baraz]

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - x

“So…”

Wonwoo sighs - re-shelving another Edgar Allen Poe book. “So, what?”

Mingyu tilts his sunglasses down, eyebrows raised at the older male that continues to do his job instead of give him the time of day. “What’s going on with you, hyung? You’ve been… weird.”

“Okay, define weird.”

The younger male pouts as he takes his sunglasses off, pocketing them as he leans up against the bookshelf that Wonwoo is currently still shelving.

It only takes one utterance of your name for Wonwoo to stop in his tracks - fingertips on the spine of another book as he turns to Mingyu. “What about her? Did she say something to you?”

“No, but do you like her? I mean, ‘like’ like her.”

“Is it not… obvious? That I do? Did we not all collectively have that conversation about me giving her a set of keys to our house?”

Mingyu grimaces slightly as he mentally goes through all the times he’d even seen the two of you together and he’s only able to conjure up a few select memories - none of which were anything necessarily romantic. “Well… I wouldn’t say ‘obvious’, I guess. The two of you aren’t exactly the ‘kiss and hold hands in public’ kind of... people. More like the, ‘sneak off to fuck in a public restroom’ kind... Which, uh, isn’t really... romantic.”

This time, Wonwoo crosses his arms and leans up against the opposite bookshelf as he sighs.

It’d been a few days since he’d seen you and you’d been swamped in so much class work that you didn’t even have the time to come by the library or the frat house. And even while Wonwoo stood in between the bookshelves having a conversation with Mingyu, you were finishing an art project with Minghao that was due by the end of the day.

“I know. I told her it’d be kind of a slow crawl for me.” He plucks another book from the cart, staring at the glossy text as he simmers in his thoughts. “Mingyu, am I awkward?”

“Erm, well, I wouldn’t say that necessarily.”

Mingyu steps forward, patting Wonwoo on the shoulder as he smiles.

“You like her and you’re trying even if you’re not used to it. You gotta start somewhere, hyung. Even if you’re a fish out of water. But that’s okay, you can ask me for help if you want!”

“When are you gonna put a ring on Wonwoo-hyung?”

You snort at Minghao’s question - reaching for a clean paintbrush as he stands across from you in the large, empty studio. “First of all, can you not say it like that? I’m not gonna marry him, okay.”

The male rolls his eyes as he steps closer to you; his own hands and clothes covered in a colorful array of paints. “So you’re saying you never imagined hyung in a suit, hair slicked back and his buff arms carrying you off into your honeymoon?”

“W--wh--n--no! No, I haven’t!” You avoid his piercing stare as you focus on your end of the large canvas instead.

No, but I dreamt about it once.

“‘Hao, would you hurry! We’re supposed to be collaborating on this and it looks… like it’s 5 different art styles.”

“Don’t change the subject on me. And anyway, I like what you’re doing to hyung. Breaking him out of his shell, y’know? He’s just shy, that’s all. Needs a little work in the bold department.”

You bite down the urge to laugh because to you, Wonwoo was everything but shy when it came to the bedroom. Although, Minghao was right with everything else. “Yeah, I know. We went for breakfast together after I, um, stayed over a few nights ago and he kinda just sat there zoned out, picking at his waffles. He’s really cute when he wakes up in the morning though. Pouty and whiny.”

Grinning at Minghao, he pretends to gag in response before taking a seat next to you.

“Disgusting. Tell me more.”

Wonwoo makes an effort to check in with you throughout the day before he heads back to his room - asking you if you’d had your meals and if you’d finished your project on time.

You’d answered sporadically as you and Minghao raced to finish.

‘I’ll eat late probably… rly gotta finish or else my ass is failing lol’

‘Just don’t forget, okay? It’s not good for you to skip.’

Wonwoo lays down in his bed; yawning as he sets his phone onto the nightstand next to himself.

His eyelids feel heavy and he’s quick to give in to the tiredness that takes over him once he gets comfortable.

When Wonwoo finally decides to shift during his nap, he finds it difficult and extra warm.

“Mmh…”

His bleary eyes adjust to the, now,  slightly darkened room as he makes out your figure tucked underneath his arm. He calls your name softly - waking you up from the nap that you’d apparently joined him in.

“Mmh… Wonwoo…” You snuggle in deeper, voice still laced with sleep. “You didn’t even budge when I came in…”

He chuckles softly as he readjusts to spoon you from behind instead; his strong arm wrapped around your waist to keep your body flush against his own.

“I’m surprised you came by, sweetheart. I would’ve just stayed awake had I known you were coming over.” His voice is groggy and laced with sleep as you sigh softly in return as you blink away the sleepiness.

“How was your day at the library? Miss me yet?” Wonwoo smiles into your shoulder before he tilts his head up to kiss the shell of your ear.

“Always, sweetheart. Although, Mingyu decided to keep me busy today.”

“Oh? Anything fun?”

He plays with the hem of your shirt, “Well… Fun isn’t the word I’d use to describe what that was. Nosy was more like it.”

This time you can’t help but snort in response. “You too? I think some people were being ‘lil moles today.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it. Did you end up just coming back here with Minghao from the studio?”

“Wasn’t planning on it, to be honest but… S’been a rough day.” Placing your hand over his arm, you squeeze slightly as you pull his arm around you tighter. “Our professor came by while we were working in the studio and said our project wasn’t up to par with what Minghao and I usually submit for projects. She didn’t fail us on the spot but she said we need to redo it for less credit or take the failing grade.”

Wonwoo nuzzles your neck; peppering small kisses on your clothed shoulder. “I take it the two of you are going to redo it?”

“Mm… We spent so long coming up with a concept and now we’re both stressed about coming up with something new. I walked over here with ‘Hao and he locked himself up in his room as soon as we got here. Figured I’d come hang out with you and found you napping… With your glasses on, no less.”

The two of you share a laugh; Wonwoo’s embrace making you feel more at ease.

“Can I help you de-stress a little, sweetheart?”

You stare at the opposite wall, nodding gently as Wonwoo’s hand leaves the hem of your shirt in favour of the waistband of your shorts.

“Just want you to feel good,” he whispers. “You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard, baby.”

He teases you softly; fingertips ghosting across your skin as you shiver. “Ah, Wonwoo…”

“You worked extra hard today too, didn’t you? I’m so proud of you for what you accomplished today.”

Your body heats up at his praise and you can’t deny that his deep, soft voice sends thrums of arousal pouring over your body just as he dips his hand into your lounge shorts. He touches you over your panties - fingertips ghosting against your mound as you moan his name shakily in return.

“I know your new idea is going to be great, baby. I believe in you.”

Soft whines threaten to spill as Wonwoo strokes you over your panties - slowly working you up as you find yourself trying to grind against his hand. “Y-yeah… ‘m p-pretty sure ‘Hao’s already working on it…”

Your voice is barely above a whisper as Wonwoo continues to stroke you gently; making no efforts to rush or add pressure to his feather-light touches.

A disappointed noise falls from your lips when he starts to pull his hand out of your shorts but it quickly turns into a content sigh when he starts teasing your chest instead.

“Mm, so soft…” Muttering against your shoulder, his eyes stare off into the dark room as he massages your body. “And all mine~”

You hum in response, “We should go on a date sometime…”

“You want to? We can go this weekend. After you’ve redone some of your project. I’ll take you somewhere nice for a job well done.”

You giggle softly; images of a wedding day’s Wonwoo dancing in your mind after the conversation you’d had with Minghao earlier. “I’d like that. We should do something for the whole day.”

“Whatever you’d like, baby.”

Wonwoo’s hand flits down your body again - snaking into your shorts and, this time, into your panties as you whine. “Do you wanna cum or go back to sleep, hmm?” 

You ponder it for a second as the drowsiness equates the urge to cum on his fingers. 

“Both? I wanna cum and then sleep a little more... If that’s okay?” 

Wonwoo hums in agreement as his fingertips drag through your folds - collecting the wetness on them before he teases your soaked hole. “Only a little teasing gets you this wet, hmm? So cute.” 

“Ah, f-feels good when you go slow t-too...” 

He stores that away in his head for later; chuckling against your shoulder as he slowly starts to dip his middle finger into your cunt. 

You feel warm and content when he starts a slow pace - thumb on your clit rubbing soft, slow circles while he pumps his finger into you. 

“O-oh, Wonwoo...” 

“You’re always good for me, baby. Always such a good girl.” 

“Ah, Wonwoo...”

“You can cum whenever you want. You deserve it.” 

He adds his index finger - thrusting both fingers into you as you mewl and arch away from his warm chest. Your toes curl and your thighs clamp and trap his hand between your legs as you start to grind down onto his nimble fingers.

“...W--Wonwoo...” 

“That’s right, baby. Call my name, let me hear your pretty voice when your cumming for me.” 

You turn your head - cries muffled into his pillow because despite his slower than usual pace, you find yourself already on the brink of cumming with his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and his thumb on your clit. 

“Mmh... Ah... Feels s-so warm... and g-good...” You mutter, eyes blinking drowsily. “Gonna c-cum...” 

He doesn’t say anything in return as he focuses on you and your pleasure; fingers scissoring and curling right into your g-spot as you clamp down onto them in a vice grip. 

Wonwoo knows when you’re about to cum when he feels your hand coming down on his forearm, holding onto him for dear life when your orgasm still hits you just as hard. 

“Ngh, Wo---Wonwoo!” 

Your walls flutter around his fingers and make it harder for him to thrust them in and out with how tight you get. 

“That’s my good girl. Cum for me, baby~” 

His deep voice makes you whine - nails digging into his arm and body trembling as the pleasure steadily washes over you. 

“Ah, bet your face is so pretty right now too~” 

“Mmh, s-stop...” Your cheeks burn in slight embarrassment from his constant praise but you can’t deny the way it goes straight to your core and only prolongs your orgasm. 

“Don’t be so shy, baby. It’s only you and me here.” 

Wonwoo leans away slightly to kiss the crown of your head - still working you through your orgasm as you sigh contentedly in his arms. 

Various thoughts run through his head in the moment, but the one that sits at the forefront of his mind is definitely how to make sure he kept treating you right. 

Starting with your date that he would spend time meticulously planning.

‘Ah, I should ask Mingyu for some advice.’ 

[mistaeq]

the stardust crusaders' hogwarts adventure: HCs

tw // none

dora's note: is this dora posting? what the hell? yes it is, i'm finally working. hopefully. i promise i'm doing by best yes ^^ i felt like doing this today, so... finally got to finish a draft that has been there for quite a while.

DISCLAIMER !! y/n is NOT a student in joseph's HCs, they're a GROWN ADULT with a JOB. !!

taglist: @fragolaaaaaaa @outofthiszawarudo @sky1mercy @cheemerthebebopfreak @berryvalentine @yandere-lovebites @catboy-kira @komaeda-kinnie [if you wanna be removed or added, all it requires is a dm or an ask !!]

kujo jotaro

♥︎ when he first sat down under the sorting hat, he didn't know what to expect and did not care in which house he would have ended up. everyone in his family, though, always had been one of two precise houses: slytherin or hufflepuff. so, very deep down, he hoped in one of them. but a different one would have been cool with him too, he would have been the first in his family with a different house sorting. he waited for a time that seemed neverending, but earlier than expected, the sorting hat said: "slytherin."

♥︎ the two of you met for the first time during a quidditch tournament. jotaro was a seeker, one of the most precise ones hogwarts had ever had. you caused him an accident, running over him with your broom, causing the two of you to fall to the ground. needless to say, he held a grudge on you for several days, until you had to get along to train for quidditch again.

♥︎ you wouldn't expect it from a wizard like him, but his favourite subjects are care of magical creatures, to study them, protect them, and get on an empathetic level with them, and muggle studies, to get to know more about muggles, in honor of his father, kujo sadao, who's not a wizard.

♥︎ it didn't take long for jotaro to manage to manifest his patronus. he had tried to practice that spell, since before the arrival of the dementors at the school. the two of you used to practice together after quidditch trainings, making you the first person - apart from him, of course - to witness the awaking of his patronus: a beautiful dolphin, a symbol of intelligence and protection.

♥︎ you will probably have to be the one to ask him first out on a date. he's not the best one when it comes to grades, and he spends quite a lot of time with his friends, trying not to think about it. no, he doesn't really care about having the best marks. you should ask one of his best friends, kakyoin noriaki, about what to do to convince him to go out on a date with you. most likely, he'll say yes because he trusts you enough to feel safe.

♥︎ jotaro does not underestimate your powers and doesn't feel the need to constantly protect you, but he must admit that as soon as the teachers of defense against the dark arts start disappearing every year or try to attack the students themselves, he's a little bit worried about you. he starts showing up outside your classroom at the end of every lesson, to check on you and keep you company until you get to you next lesson's classroom.

kakyoin noriaki

♥︎ when he sat down under the sorting hat, he was really nervous. what if it said that he wasn't even a wizard? what if he ended up in a house that would have disappointed his family? the redhead was shaking like a leaf, even at the point that the sorting hat itself asked him to calm down to allow it to examinate him better. noriaki's terror soon disappeared, as soon as the hat spoke. "okay, okay, my guy. you can calm down. ravenclaw!"

♥︎ the two of you met for the first time in the library of the school. you were looking for a specific book, the one about the fantastic beasts of the wizarding world and where to find them, when a guy who wasn't looking where he was going, hit the ladder you were standing on, making you fall, right... in his arms. ugh, that sounded like a pathetic love story beginning. until you heard a giggle from the corner of the room. the guy that was making fun of that scene was kakyoin.

♥︎ noriaki's favourite subjects are transfiguration, since he always says he has a talent in transforming objects in what he wants, and defence against the dark arts, since he wishes to become a professor one day. why is it related to that? well, since the professors of defence against the dark arts seem to change every year for some reason, his turn will come sooner or later, or not?

♥︎ for kakyoin, it was a little bit more complicated to manifest his patronus. he kept on focusing on the technique and the way he had to move his wand, instead of focusing on his inner power and mind. but after many efforts, it finally showed up: a beautiful fox, symbol of wisdom and guidance. he told you first thing.

♥︎ noriaki will probably be the one to ask you out for a date first. but he would do it through a letter. he's smart enough to write one that will convince you that he's worth it and that he's perfect for you. the redhead can't imagine you already think of him as such. either way, the letter will be very sweer and heartfelt, even if a little bit awkward sometimes. but you'll say yes regardless, he put a lot of effort in it, and has always been respectful towards you.

♥︎ he wouldn't be much worried about you at first, hogwarts is a safe place for the students, after all, right? right? oh, what? in a bathroom the little hermione granger almost got killed by a troll? you know what, nevermind? the guy is gonna be glued to you the whole time, he'll even skip lessons for it, despite how much they mean for him. you're not gonna get attacked by anything, with him by your side.

muhammad avdol

♥︎ everyone envied him when he sat down under the sorting hat, because despite the young age at the time, he looked absolutely calm and collected. he had no anxiety, and his eyes were closed, in complete relaxation, as if him and the sorting hat had some sort of mental communication going on. his smile was endearing, his fingers intertwined in front of his chest. but the hat seemed to take a lot of time sorting him. "your heart said gryffindor, my dear boy. but your soul spoke hufflepuff to me." the hat declared. but then... "hufflepuff!"

♥︎ the two of you met for the first time on the stairs. yes, the ones that like to change. your books had fallen from your arms on the stairs, and since he was passing by, he decided to lend a helping hand. what you didn't notice, was that you were standing right between the stairs and the floor. when the stairs changed, hadn't it been for muhammad's quick reflex of pulling you on his side, you would have probably fallen down several floors.

♥︎ avdol is naturally gifted, when it comes to subjects like astronomy, or his favourite one, divination. he seems to be the only student who doesn't stare at mrs. trelawney as if she were completely crazy. the majority of the ravenclaws, his friend noriaki included, sometimes don't even listen to her. but avdol does, and he's completely in love with the subject.

♥︎ it hadn't been difficult at all for avdol, to manifest his patronus. almost natural, for him. you weren't there to witness it, but you studied and practiced with him for it several times. the last time he tried, a beautiful and graceful phoenix escaped muhammad's wand, symbol of resurrection and life after death, a patronus that the student took as a symbol of hope.

♥︎ none of you two will ask the other out for a date. the love between you and avdol would bloom spontaneously, without the need of dating. you would find yourselves behaving like a couple just naturally. he likes to give you tarot readings and to stargaze with you. the stargazing sessions are the ones that get the two of you closer to each other.

♥︎ avdol would be protective over you since the very beginning. he can sense something's off in the school, and his tarot readings about hogwarts's future keep getting darker and more mysterious everytime. but every single reading hints at an upcoming source of danger, that most likely would be voldemort, he supposes. he has to keep an eye on you. he's scared.

jean pierre polnareff

♥︎ oh boy, this guy was mad nervous when he sat down under the sorting hat. everything but slytherin, everything but slytherin. surely, he knew he wouldn't have ended up in ravenclaw. he wasn't that much of a smart guy, but he did his best. either way, everything would have been cool to him, apart from slytherin. it just didn't sit right to him. but luckily, before jean could ask the sorting hat why was it taking so long, it spoke. "okay, okay, i get it. gryffindor, no doubts!" it said, making the young wizard feel relieved.

♥︎ the two of you met for the first time while he was trying so hard to find his way to the next classroom he had to be in. the school was huge, and polnareff couldn't help but to get confused in the corridors. you offered him your help, but he tried to play it cool, running away and dropping a book. well, you would have brought it to him.

♥︎ polnareff's favourite subjects are charms and flying. they're pretty basic, but he finds them the coolest things about being a wizard. he's a huge fan of quidditch too, but he wouldn't see himself playing. flying lessons give him the same feeling of freedom though, and he loves it so much.

♥︎ it took pretty long for jean pierre to manifest his patronus. he just couldn't focus enough. you've been practising with him, and you manifested it first, so it would have been good to try to help him. until he managed to do it. from his wand, a beautiful horse was freed, a symbol of power, independence, freedom, and nobleness. you could tell jean was satisfied, and grateful to you for helping him in manifesting it.

♥︎ he'll definitely be the one to ask you out first, probably not much time after you helped him to manifest his patronus. that event made him so happy and made him grow so fond of you, that he genuinely wants to improve your relationship, and hopefully, get something more from it. hopefully your heart, hopefully a kiss. but he means it genuinely. he's not trying to exploit you to get your help with assignments. for real.

♥︎ as the years go by, polnareff would start noticing hogwarts isn't the same place that it's always been, or that dumbledore claimed it was. he grows more and more protective of you, every year a worse mess happens, and it's always connected to voldemort. he's not liking it at all. not to mention you're worried, since the gryffindors seem to be pretty involved in it. more than you and jean pierre like to admit. he knows something he's not telling.

joseph joestar

♥︎ in his youth, when he sat down under the sorting hat, he didn't give a shit of what house he would have been sorted in, all he wanted was just start learning magic stuff. joseph was laughing with some handsome boys and pretty girls at the table, and was hoping it wouldn't take long to sort him, his adventure had just started. but the hat actually took really little time to figure out where he was gonna go. "slytherin." it announced, almost immediately.

♥︎ going through the corridors of hogwarts reminds him of many years ago, when you first met. he would never forget the way you told him to go fuck himself, while he was just standing on a chair, reminding everyone that him and his best friend of the time, a young lucius malfoy, were the best kind of wizards because they were purebloods. that was a bunch of bullshit he truly used to believe. luckily, he grew up to understand it wasn't true.

♥︎ now, joseph is a teacher. the last student you would have expected to become one, but he did. a teacher of defense against the dark arts, and he's not planning on leaving anytime soon. he'll keep his eyes open, he heard teachers have been disappearing every year. not to mention a lot of scary stuff is happening at hogwarts. he didn't choose a good time to work.

♥︎ he's always been a quick learner, and he managed to manifest his patronus quicker than many of his classmates. a really cool eagle, a symbol of truth, majesty, strength. despite his attitude, it was clear that joseph was a good wizard, it had to be given to him. and you grew to be into it. to admire it. he secretly liked you, too.

♥︎ joseph took the first step towards you, but he didn't quite ask you out, let's say that to keep his cool, he TOLD you that you and him were gonna date. as if to announce you. you were okay with it, and didn't accept just because you were feeling forced. you accepted because you liked him, and recognized it as a great opportunity to get closer to him. you would have worked on improving the romantic field throughout your relationship.

♥︎ now that he's a teacher, he has to recognize that there's so much going on, that the students do not see. joseph is acknowledged about how dangerous the situation is getting, and more than ever, he reaches out to you, or phones you, no matter the fact that you're working. everyone is talking about voldemort, and he doesn't like the smallest bit of it. he just wants to make sure you're safe.

[spxllcxstxr]

Bridge Over Troubled Water • R.L

(Gif not mine)

Requests: can you do a blurb with Remus where the reader is nervous and anxious, maybe has a tough week and he gives her a massage and helps her relax? — anon and Hi! can you write an imagine where the reader is dating Remus and is disappointed in her school grades / results and is overall doubting herself and is disappointed with herself? — @emmaev

Summary: Things are getting really tough. Remus is here for you.

Warnings: mention of food, not eating/skipping a meal, hunger, depression, anxiety, a bit of a panic attack, homework, school, self deprecating thoughts, kinda take how we’re feeling in this pandemic and that’s kinda what this fic is, Snape being an ass for like two sentences, crying

Word Count: 1.7k

A.N: I hope it’s alright that I combined your two requests. But, I decided to make it longer with a lot more comfort. I really hope it’s ok with you guys ❤️ Kinda a vent fic? So that’s why it’s lowkey all over the place and the ending is sorta..abrupt? I hope you like it, though. I wanna say that I’m always here for you guys. This whole thing has been kicking my ass and school has been extremely tough for me, so know that you’re not alone. Know that you’ve got this. I believe wholeheartedly in you. Love you all. ❤️

Title: Simon and Garfunkel - Bridge Over Troubled Water

****

You trudge up the stone steps to the boys dorms, your bag dragging heavily behind you. With your robes slipping from your shoulders and your tie dangling loosely around your neck, you almost consider letting your bag go. Watching the heavy sack of books tumble recklessly down the spiral staircase seems like a great idea to you. However, you make it to the sixth year dorms before you’re able to loosen your grip.

The oak door was closed but not locked. What use was a lock when the door was charmed to singe off the eyebrows of any unwelcome visitor? Thankfully, the boys granted you complete access to their room in third year, so the door couldn’t harm you.

Turning the brass doorknob and stepping through the threshold, you’re greeted by somewhat organized chaos.

Sirius and Peter’s side of the room was a complete disaster while James and Remus’ side was at least nicer to look at. Sure a few books were scattered on the floor and James’ red and yellow underwear was hanging from his bedpost visible to anyone who walked in, but that’s nothing compared to whatever the other two have going on. You don’t even want to look at it, knowing full well that just one tiny glance would make your already terrible day worse.

The room is empty and completely quiet, the boys, just like every other person in the castle, were down in the Great Hall for dinner. At the thought of dinner just downstairs, your stomach grumbles before quickly churning in agony.

Quickly, you dump your bag next to the door and go through Remus’ drawers, searching for that one specific jumper.

It’s the deep blue cable knit one that always smells like him. The jumper is soft and warm and the perfect piece of clothing to cuddle into when you needed a good cry. And Godric, you needed a good, long, ugly cry.

After finding it and throwing it on, you barely lift up your feet walking to your boyfriend’s bed to get swallowed up by his blankets.

The weight of the day hits you full force the moment your head collides with his pillow, and your lips wobbles, the day replaying in your mind.

Your morning started with a Transfiguration exam that definitely was not on what you studied all night for.

Then, your potion bubbled out of your cauldron and started disintegrating the stone flooring, making Slughorn shoot you very disappointed look that made you want to disappear into the Forbidden Forest forever.

Defense Against the Dark Arts turned into a complete disaster as well when Professor Bluebell handed back your essays on inferi, and yours ended up with a spikey red D scrawled angrily on the top. D, which stands for Dreadful, as Snape snidely reminded you from over your shoulder. He flashed you smug little smirk along with the delicate O that adorned his own essay.

And to top it all off, you had to meet up with Flitwick right after classes to go over the vinegar to wine charm that for some reason wouldn’t work for you no matter how hard you tried. And you still weren’t successful.

This was becoming a common occurrence.

You always knew that your N.E.W.T. year was going to be tough, but Merlin, you never expected it to be this awful.

Classes were longer and harder and your professors were relentless and unforgiving with the amount of homework and exams they started handing out.

Sure you had more free periods, but those were filled with research and essays and studying, you had no free time at all—it was all a lie.

You couldn’t escape it. Sleep was just more time to be plagued by anxiety to the point you barely even slept at all. Most of the time you stared blankly up at the ceiling thinking about all the assignments you could be doing instead.

It’s this torturous and vicious cycle that you just can’t get out of.

And your motivation was quickly disappearing.

It was getting tougher and tougher each time to even do your homework. Lifting up your quill and taking out a stack of parchment was just difficult. It took too much energy out of you.

Smothering your face in Remus’ pillow, you groan out your frustration, balling your fists around the frayed sleeves of the jumper.

You’re so wrapped up in your despair and panic that you don’t hear the door creak open and four sets of footfalls and laughter bounce around the room.

“Damn, what’s up with you?” Sirius chuckles. You hear him flop onto his own bed.

You bury your nose in the fabric of the jumper, inhaling the sweet and comforting scent of chocolate and old parchment that always accompanies Remus Lupin.

“Don’t be a git, Pads.” Remus scoffs, making his way towards you.

He crouches down by your head, placing a delicate thumb on your cheekbone.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” His tone turns soft, drenched with concern.

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, tears trickling down the bridge of your nose and dripping down to the white sheets.

“Alright, darling, hold on.” Remus whispers, placing a dainty kiss on your forehead.

He straightens up, knees creaking the way no sixteen year old’s should.

“Alright, lads, clear out.” Remus declares to his friends.

“You can’t kick me out of my room, Moony. No way.” You hear James whine.

“Yes, I can, Prongs, c’mon. Go play chess with Peter or something.”

“But he always beats me.”

“C’mon, Prongsie, we can scam the first years by making them place bets on you winning.” Sirius suggests. His boots click against the floorboards, trailing towards the door.

Peter’s light footsteps follow after them.

“Fine.” James huffs dramatically. “But I’m not sleeping on the couch again, so no funny business.”

The door slams shut and once again you’re met with silence, though you do hear Remus changing out of his uniform and into more comfortable attire.

The bed dips underneath Remus’ weight and his hand gently starts to stroke through your hair.

“Tell me what’s wrong, my love.” Remus mumbles just loud enough for you to hear.

You try to swallow down the lump in the back of your throat.

“Just a very shitty day, Rem.” You manage to croak out, the words choppy and wavering.

Tears begin to flow freely, warm salty streaks making their way down your face in rapid succession.

“Oh darling.” Remus coos, practically pulling you into his arms and between his legs. You bury your face into his neck, tears dampening his scarred flesh. “It’s alright, let it out.” He continues to run your hair between his fingers. “Let it all out...”

“I-I’m just so stupid!” You sob, choking on spit. “Everything’s just getting too much and I can’t fucking take it anymore!”

He squeezes you closer to his chest, opting to stay silent so you can vent everything off of your chest. His cheek is pressed to the top of your head and you’re vaguely aware that you’re being rocked gently back and forth.

“It’s so hard!” You continue to wail, lungs constricting rapidly. It’s a struggle to keep breathing and your words barely come out fully, instead broken fragments are the only things spewing out.

“I’m a failure!” You spit out, face wet with tears.

“You’re not a failure, my love. I promise.” Remus tried to soothe, his voice adopting a small but noticeable waver. His hand rubs your back.

“I am! I’m a disappointment!” You sniff, taking in deep gulps of air.

“Shh...” Remus pulls you back a bit so he can see your entire face.

You already know you look disgusting. Eyes blotchy and red, tears streaming down your face. Snotty, spitty, wobbling, and watery features taking up his entire vision.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, hm? Let me help.” He consoles you softly.

You gaze into his warm honey brown eyes, glistening with his own tears.

You sniff, rubbing the sleeves of Remus’ stolen jumper across your face in an attempt to dry yourself off.

“Everything’s slipping, Rem. My grades, my mental health, everything. And I’m so lost I don’t know what to do anymore.” You confess. “What am I supposed to do?” You bring your hands up to you hair, tugging at your scalp enough for you to feel sparks of pain.

Quickly, his own trembling hands take yours. He stops you from tugging, instead bringing them to rest on his jumper clad chest.

You swallow harshly.

“I’m going to help you, (Y/n)—“

“You can’t help me, Remus! I’m beyond help—“

“No, you’re not.” He retorts lightly. “I’ll help you with homework and help you ask for a few extensions...we can get you back on track.”

“Remus...” Your voice trembles at his kindness.

“I’m sorry.” He rasps out, a tear or two slipping from his waterline. “I’m so so sorry that I didn’t see you suffering like this. Merlin, (Y/n).”

Shaking his head at himself, he brings his forehead down to your own.

“I’ll be better. I’ll be better, I swear.” Remus keeps repeating in a pained mutter.

“It’s not your fault, Rem. I got good at acting like everything was fine.” Your voice cracks.

“Still! I should’ve realized!” He mutters angrily.

“I love you, Remus. I love you so much, please don’t beat yourself up over this.” You plead.

He bites his lip, deciding to drop it, instead focusing on you.

“Why don’t we try to relax, hm? Just take a nice night off?” Remus suggests, pulling away to brush strands of hair away from your sticky face.

“But what about homework—?”

“Tomorrow, love. I think we deserve a break, don’t you?”

You shlyly nod, and he presses his lips to your forehead.

“You’re beautiful, darling.” Remus whispers.

“I just bawled my eyes out, Rem, I’m sure I look like a swamp hag.” You snort.

He brings his hands to your shoulders, rubbing deep circles into your back muscles. The knots start to dissipate.

“Never seen a swamp hag as angelic as you.” Remus flirts. But his voice is so sincere and honest, you have no choice but to somewhat believe him.

“Thank you, Remus.” You smile. “It means so much to me.”

“Anything for the love of my life.” He confesses, trailing his pink lips down your neck. “Now let me hold you close.”

He lays down, resting his head on his pillow, your head resting on his chest.

Things are going to get better.

Probably not tomorrow.

Probably not this week.

But things will.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20

[efyra]

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: the first time that remus almost lost his control

author’s note: i swear that i didn’t pretend to make two parts for this story but it just happened; i couldn’t help myself. i’m sorry 🥺 and I also am sorry for any grammar mistakes - like i said before, english is not my native language

1994, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Honestly, you never thought that would be so sensitive about your last year at Hogwarts. You didn't think you would miss walking those halls, dining under the starry sky of the Great Hall, the Quidditch games that cheered up the students of all Houses, resting on that tree next to the Black Lake or the magnificent view from the Astronomy Tower. All these little things that never meant much to you before, made your seventh year more melancholic than you imagined it would be - you couldn’t even think about no longer seeing your friends every day without starting to cry.

In a few months, you would be a graduated girl; an adult woman who would be entirely responsible for your own future. Technically, you would be free. Free to pursue any career you want; you could become a healer, a teacher, a magizoologist, or even an auror, and you would have a happy and prosperous life. Or you could just screw yourself up.

The uncertainty made you apprehensive.

Ever since you were born, everyone told you what to do, be it your parents or your teachers; how did they expect you to make a decision as big as "the future of your life" being so young? You were only 18, for Merlin's sake!

Why did you stay only seven years at Hogwarts? If you could, you would continue studying there until you were 25 years-old.

But, unfortunately, that was not possible.

What made you feel a little better was to think that your colleagues were as apprehensive as you were about venturing into the adult world.

Since the school year has began, seventh graders threw a "farewell party" every month and overdosed on firewhisky. You have witnessed a diversity of drunken behavior during these parties; there would always be someone crying because they would miss Hogwarts, others despairing because they didn't know what the fuck they were going to do with their lives, some pompously saying that they already knew exactly where they would work after graduation, there would also be those who would make brave confessions, act recklessly or end up sleeping on a couch.

You weren't a very party person; not that you were those people who didn't even attend the party, but you never crossed your limit, let alone did something to embarrass yourself. Of course, you've taken doses of firewhisky before, but you never got drunk.

Until that night.

Earlier that day, you got a letter from your parents telling that they expected you to become an auror just like them; that gave you stomach pain all day long. You had already thought about following the same career as your parents - who were phenomenal in their job - but you weren't sure if that was what you want for your future.

You were a simple girl. You were never very extroverted, but you made good friends during your years at Hogwarts. You were a great student, not extraordinary nor mediocre. You never drew much attention, and frankly, you never wanted that - in fact, you hated being in the spotlight. For some weird reason, you become very clumsy at those times.

So you never really considered becoming an auror. And because of that letter from your parents, you forgot to control how much firewhisky you were consuming.

And, for the first time in your life, you were officially drunk.

"Ok, I'm hungry" you declared to your friend; your voice tone was louder than usual and your words came out a little shuffled.

Y/F/N faced you with some fun in her eyes; it was unusual to see you like that.

"Right. Let's go to the kitchens, then"

You frowned in confusion.

"How do we get in there?"

"Just tickle the pear" she shrugged "easy peasy". A giggle came out of her lips. "What?" Y/F/N raised an eyebrow.

"You said pee-asy" you answered, giggling one more time.

Your friend shook her head.

"You're very drunk," she said with fun. "Let's give you some food and water and put you on bed.

"Oh, but I don't want to go to bed" you made a pout.

"Well, we're going anyway," Y/F/N said firmly; she knew you wouldn't want to wake up on some random couch. "I'll tell Riley we're going and be right back. Don't go anywhere.”

If you were sober, you would never consider invading Hogwarts' kitchens in the middle of the night, and you wouldn't have escaped from your friend after she told you to wait for her, but, obviously, you weren't even a little sober.

Walking through the dark and empty corridors was already an unknown experience for you, but walking through them being so drunk seemed like an adventure. You had no idea where you were going - even though you knew you wanted to get to the kitchens.

Then an intense light blinded you for a second.

"Miss Y/L/N?" the familiar voice of your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher took you by surprise.

Your eyes widened and you stumbled in your footsteps.

"Professor Hottie!" exclaimed automatically as soon as Remus fucking Lupin appeared in your front, seeming very intrigued to find you in the middle of the hall. "I mean... Professor Hottie!" you paused for a short second; looking sideways and not noticing the amused little smile that appeared on the older man's face. "Wait I said it again... Professor Lupin! Now I did it" you smiled and turned your head to face your teacher.

Then you saw.

That damn look. The look full of savagery that made your knees weak and the air escape from your lungs.

Your teacher slowly approached you; he calculated his steps so he won’t scare you - and honestly, he needed to control himself to not kiss you right there.

Remus Lupin looked like a wolf hunting his prey - and you looked delicious in his eyes.

"Miss Y/L/N..." he kept walking towards you, causing you to automatically take a few steps back, getting close to the wall. "What a little girl like you is doing in the hallway off hours?"

The words got stuck in your throat.

"I-I-I... Ah... I..."

Then he smelled it. He smelled the firewhisky on your breath.

A surprised moan came out of your lips when Professor Lupin pushed you against the wall, pressing his body on yours; his 6'2" height rising dangerously over yours much shorter.

"Were you drinking?" his tone was not as gentle as usual; it was rough and demanding. His question came out almost like a growl.

You gulped.

Your heart beat wildly and you never felt so hot like that before; you wondered if you could burst into flames just with that interaction.

"No!" you lied.

"Y/N..." was the first time Remus said your name; you loved how your name sounded in his voice. "I think you're lying to me," he whispered close to your ear.

You felt shiver over your spine.

"Professor, I-I... I don't..."

"I, I" he repeated in a mocking tone, appreciating how nervous you looked before facing you intensely again. "Don't lie to me again. You won't like what I'm going to do to you if you lie to me again.”

You gasp with your words, and to your embarrassment, a pathetic moan came out of your throat.

Remus growled; he clenched his hands firmly, trying to control himself to not fuck you right there in the hallway - his cock already hard inside his pants.

"Or maybe you would like it" he thought to himself.

But at the same time your groaning excited him, it also awakened him from his trance. Remus remembered who he was; he was your professor and you were his student. He couldn't do anything with you.

He took a step away from you, reluctantly; taking the time to admire how delicious you looked with your breath intertwined, your cheeks blushed and so submissive.

You were disappointed when you could no longer feel his warm body against yours, but you stopped yourself from saying anything. Honestly, you had no idea what had just happened between you and your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher; it seemed wrong and it certainly was forbidden, but you couldn't help but want more.

"You will go back to your dorm. No more firewhisky for you, do you understand, Miss Y/L/N?" he asked, looking at her intensely.

"Y-Yes" you stuttered nervously.

"Yes, what?" he growled.

"Yes, Professor Lupin" you corrected yourself quickly.

A smile appeared on the man's face full of scars.

"Good girl" he couldn't prevent those words from coming out of his mouth. "Now, go" he said authoritarian.

You nodded before heading back to the party; the drunkenness seemed to have left your body completely and you almost felt sober.

Almost.

Your little interaction with Remus fucking Lupin still made you feel a little dizzy.

Y/F/N found you halfway through, she guided you to your common room and brought you to your dorm.

That night, you slept quickly because even though Professor Lupin had taken you out of your drunk state, you still had a good dose of firewhisky.

Unlike you, Remus Lupin could not get a good night of sleep.

He thought about you all night long; the way you seemed to submit yourself completely to him without any hesitation, how small and fragile you seemed and how easy it would be for him to throw you on bed or any other surface he could fuck you into oblivion, the way you pressed your thighs together when he approached you - you didn't notice it, but he did.

Remus thought that, maybe, having you wasn't something so surreal; that, maybe, you wanted it too. But he remembered the firewhisky smell on your breath.

He knew he should never have done what he did.

He should have controlled himself.

The next day, he waited for Dumbledore to tell him that he was fired, but that never happened. He waited a week, two weeks, three weeks, more than a month passed and absolutely nothing happened.

Remus didn't know if he should be relieved or if he should feel like the worst man in the world; you had completely forgotten what had happened that night.

Or that's what he thought.

In fact, you remembered every minute of yours little interaction in the hall.

You remembered the way he looked at you ferociously, his predatory walk, you remembered perfectly the growl that came out of his throat, his body against yours, his chocolate and parchment paper perfume, and you, definitely, could never forget how dominant and controlling he acted - and how your body surrender to that behavior; how you liked it.

"You won't like what will happen to you if you lie to me again", it was his words, and Merlin, you had the most absolute certainty that you would love anything he did to you. And you would still beg for more.

You waited for Professor Lupin to come to you, but he never did. You waited more than a month and nothing happened.

It was as if that night had never happened.

Of course, you felt disappointed - very disappointed - but it was your last year at Hogwarts. Your last year walking through those halls, having dinner under the starry sky of the Great Hall, cheering for your house team at Quidditch, resting on that tree next to the Black Lake and enjoying the view from the Astronomy Tower, and you wouldn't waste it lamenting for your Dark Arts Defense teacher.

You graduated. And you thought you would never see him again.

But fate had other plans for you two because in that summer of 1995, you met at Grimmauld Place, number 12.

It didn't seem wrong anymore and it wasn't forbidden, so you promised yourself:

You were going to find out what Remus Lupin was hiding.