#and her relationship to her fellow wizards | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loving-daisy · 28 days ago

Text

Where’s the Trophy? | Draco Malfoy x Reader

loving-daisy masterlist

Words: 8.1k

Summary: Nothing would ever make Draco happy than holding a trophy in his arms. Wait, are we talking about the Quidditch World Cup or a certain Y/N Weasley?

Inspired by Taylor Swift’s song — “The Alchemy”

Author’s Note: I had this in the drafts ever since the 2024 Paris Olympics when edits of players running towards their s/o’s became viral :)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Draco Malfoy wasn’t the type to shy away from a challenge, and Y/N Weasley was certainly proving to be one.

Draco had noticed her immediately when they first crossed paths at Theodore Nott’s engagement party.

Despite being a Weasley, Y/N became good friends with Theodore after meeting her at some workshop for fellow print editors. Y/N works at The Alchemy, the bestselling wizarding lifestyle magazine of all time.

Every single wizard and witch keep their hands on The Alchemy for it covers basically everything you need to know about the wizarding world from the latest news and trends, ministry politics and foreign affairs, celebrity gossip, and even covering up to the current viral beauty and fashion world. To be featured in the magazine is to be popular and Theodore’s bride-to-be knew that their engagement was to be publicized by none other than The Alchemy.

Y/N was leaning against the wall with an almost bored expression, her sharp eyes scanning the room, never lingering on anything or anyone for too long. Not even him, Draco Malfoy, England’s seeker, king of hearts, and player of all players.

Most women would have been entranced by his presence, drawn in by his reputation and charm. But Y/N? She’d barely acknowledged his arrival, too busy ranting with Theo about the piled up work for all print distributors with the rising tensions of the Quidditch world cup .

Draco had made his way over, cocking an eyebrow as he interrupted their conversation.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear,” he said smoothly, glancing at Theo, who gave him an exasperated look.

Before Draco was able to continue what he was about to say, he was immediately interrupted by the girl, who didn’t even look up from her drink.

“And yet, you’re interrupting,” she replied dryly, her voice cool but with just enough of a bite to show she wasn’t amused.

Draco smirked, leaning against the wall beside her. “Well, Darling, what better way to write about Quidditch than with a Quidditch player himself? Not to mention, me, the star of every game.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re really not as charming as you think you are, Malfoy.”

“I beg to differ,” he said, leaning in slightly, his tone lowering with that touch of arrogance she had come to expect. “Most women find me quite irresistible.”

Her lips twitched, but she didn’t rise to the bait. "Good thing I’m not most women,” she replied, turning her attention back to Theodore, clearly uninterested in his game.

Usually, Draco wouldn’t even bother wasting a breath on a Weasley but Y/N had dismissed him all too quickly. She had dismissed him, England’s heartthrob, as if she wasn’t interested in his good looks, or fame, or even popularity.

Salazar, she wasn’t even interested in writing about him for The Alchemy.

Draco Malfoy was not accustomed to chasing anything—or anyone. He had always been pursued, whether for his status, wealth, or simply because of his name. Relationships had always been transactional for him: a game of give and take, of power dynamics that were easy to navigate. But Y/N Weasley… Y/N was different.

At first, Draco had been intrigued. She was sharp, unyielding, and completely immune to his usual charms.

Where most women melted under his attention, Y/N only rolled her eyes or gave him a withering look as though he was just another distraction to be dealt with. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had dismissed him so thoroughly, and it had started to feel like a challenge for reasons he couldn't quite explain.

But it wasn’t just that.

The more she resisted, the more he wanted to see if he could break through that impenetrable wall she’d built around herself.

Over time, his interest became more than a game. She challenged him, called him out on his arrogance, and refused to let him get away with half-truths or polished façades. For the first time in years, Draco felt like someone saw him for who he really was—and she didn’t flinch.

Y/N Weasley wasn’t having it.

“You’re wasting your time,” she told him one evening at a café in London, where they’d both ended up after a mutual friend’s birthday gathering.

“Am I?” he asked, his smirk tilting into something softer.

“Yes,” she said firmly, taking a sip of her wine. “Whatever this is, it’s not going to happen.”

Draco only shrugged, undeterred. ‘We’ll see.’

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Still writing about why men are hopeless, Weasley?”

Y/N looked up to find Draco Malfoy standing there, effortlessly stylish in a tailored coat and scarf that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe. His silver-blond hair was tousled in that maddeningly perfect way, and he wore a smirk that could charm or infuriate—depending on his mood.

“I wasn’t,” she replied smoothly, “but if you’re volunteering as a case study, I can adjust.”

Draco chuckled, pulling out the chair across from her without waiting for an invitation. “I’m sure your readers would love to hear about my charms. But I’d much rather give you a private demonstration.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow, feigning disinterest even as her cheeks flushed. “Is this your idea of flirting, Malfoy? Because it’s not exactly groundbreaking.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and fixing her with his piercing gray eyes. “Oh, I can be groundbreaking when I want to be. But I’ll save that for when you admit you’re intrigued.”

“Who says I’m intrigued?” she countered, her quill tapping against the table's edge.

Draco smirked. “That little blush on your cheeks does.”

Y/N huffed, pretending to go back to her notes. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he said, sliding a piece of parchment across the table with his contact information scrawled in elegant script, “you haven’t asked me to leave.”

With a wink, he stood and adjusted his scarf. “I’ll leave you to your article, Weasley. Don’t work too hard. You’ll need your energy—for when I take you to dinner.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Y/N had no idea why she was even scrolling through the gossip pages of Witch Weekly. It was supposed to be a lazy Monday morning—tea in hand, parchment in front of her—but instead, her attention had been snagged by a headline she couldn’t ignore.

England's Star Seeker Draco Malfoy Spotted with Mystery Blonde at Exclusive London Bistro!

Her stomach twisted as she stared at the accompanying photograph.

There he was, Draco Malfoy, sitting across from a gorgeous woman who was laughing at something he’d said. His trademark smirk was firmly in place, the same smirk he’d aimed at her not two days ago.

Y/N snapped the magazine shut, annoyed at herself.

What did it matter who Draco Malfoy spent his evenings with? He was arrogant, self-absorbed, and entirely too charming for his own good.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

But the universe wasn’t done testing her resolve.

Later that week, as she walked through Diagon Alley, the sight of Draco leaning against a storefront with another witch at his side stopped her in her tracks. This one had dark hair and a melodic laugh that carried across the street. Draco held her hand, his expression warm and relaxed in a way Y/N hadn’t seen before.

She quickly ducked into a nearby shop, her heart racing. Malfoy was a flirt, and she wasn’t naïve enough to think he didn’t have other women hanging on his every word.

The next morning, another headline greeted her in the Prophet: Malfoy’s Match: Which Lucky Lady Has His Heart?

Y/N threw the paper aside with a frustrated groan.

Over the past months, Draco had been bothering her. The last thing she wanted was to have him bothering her even when he’s not here. The girl swore to herself that she won’t read gossip columns ever again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Y/N was sitting in her cozy office at The Alchemy, the latest drafts of her article spread across her desk, when her fireplace flared green. She was startled as Draco Malfoy’s face appeared in the flames, his usual smirk firmly in place.

“Busy, Weasley?” he drawled.

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Malfoy, have you ever heard of knocking? Oh, wait—no doors on fireplaces. How silly of me to expect manners.”

He chuckled. “If I knocked, you’d have an excuse to ignore me. This way, you’re forced to hear me out.”

“Lucky me,” she replied dryly, crossing her arms. “What do you want?”

Draco’s smirk softened, turning into something almost—dare she say it?—earnest. “I’ve got a match in two weeks. England versus France. It’s a big one. It’s the finals.”

“And?” Y/N prompted, arching an eyebrow.

“And,” he continued, “I thought you might like to come. Watch me fly circles around the other Seeker. Cheer me on. That sort of thing.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You mean sit in a crowd of rabid Quidditch fans and feed your already oversized ego?”

“Precisely,” he replied, undeterred. “I’ve reserved a seat in the VIP box just for you. You’ll have the best view in the house.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “Why me?”

“Because,” he said smoothly, “you’re the only person I know who can’t stand my ego—and yet, you’ll be impressed anyway. Admit it, Weasley. You’re curious.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “My answer is no.”

Draco grinned, pointing a finger in her direction. “I see what this is. This is you trying not to fall in love with me when you see me in action.” He concluded, earning a groan from the Weasley girl.

“There are a lot of other witches out there already in love with you, Malfoy. Surely, you don’t need another one.” She asserted, shaking her head at the Quidditch star.

Draco blinked, his smirk faltering for a split second before he recovered. “Ah. You’ve been reading the gossip columns, I see.”

“Hard to avoid when your face is splashed across every page,” she shot back. “Or when I see you holding hands with someone else in Diagon Alley.”

“Jealous, then,” he said, his smirk returning, though there was a flicker of something more serious in his eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Malfoy,” Y/N snapped. “But if you’re going to act like you’re interested in me, maybe try not to make it so obvious that you’re playing the field.”

Draco exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “You think I’m playing you?”

“I think I don’t like feeling like an idiot,” she said, her voice quieter now but no less firm. “So if this is some kind of game to you, just say so, and I’ll be on my way. Or better yet, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

For once, Draco didn’t have a quick retort. He stepped closer, his expression softening in a way that caught her off guard.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice lower now, almost tentative. “Those other witches? They don’t mean anything. The dinners, the pictures—they’re just...part of the circus that comes with this life.”

She arched an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. “And me?”

Draco hesitated, then met her gaze head-on. “You’re different. You’re not part of the circus. That’s why I keep coming back, even when you’re determined to push me away or even make me work for it.”

Y/N wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe those gray eyes weren’t just feeding her another line. But trust didn’t come easily. Not with someone like him.

“Prove it,” she said finally.

Draco’s lips twitched into a small, almost shy smile. “Challenge accepted.”

And with that, his face vanished from the flames, leaving Y/N shaking her head and wondering how Draco Malfoy always managed to get under her skin.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Over the next few weeks, his persistence continued. He sent her notes with witty remarks, often mocking her serious work at The Alchemy, trying to provoke a reaction. He’d casually show up at places where she might be—often appearing just at the right moment to interrupt her morning coffee or during late-night discussions about the Quidditch finals. At first, Y/N remained distant, always with a polite but unyielding air.

“You’re insufferable, Malfoy,” she’d said, her eyes narrowing as he leaned casually against her desk at her office.

“And yet, here I am,” he’d replied smoothly, smirking when she rolled her eyes.

“You know, Weasley,” Draco said casually, his voice low, “if you spent less time pretending to dislike me, you might realize you enjoy my company.”

Y/N looked up at him, her gaze steady but not unkind. ”I doubt that,” she said, her lips curling into a smirk. “You’re a master at charming people, but I’m simply not impressed.”

Draco’s lips curved into a small smile. “You know, you are the first person in a long time who doesn’t buy into the act.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What act?”

“This,” he gestured vaguely, smirking. “The smirking, the charm, the headlines. It works on most people. Not you.”

“Maybe because I know better,” she replied with a teasing smile.

“Exactly,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “You see through it. That’s why I…” He hesitated, then shook his head with a soft laugh. “Never mind.”

“Why you what?” Y/N prompted, her curiosity piqued.

Draco met her gaze, his gray eyes unusually serious. “Why I care what you think of me. More than I probably should.”

There was silence between them for a moment—an odd tension in the air as Y/N considered his words.

It was the first crack in her walls. Draco showed the briefest flicker of vulnerability.

But Y/N wasn’t going to make it easy.

As much as he tried to provoke her, as much as he coaxed her with his charm, he could see that she was starting to fight back. She wasn’t giving him an inch, which only made him want to push further. After all, Draco Malfoy didn’t back down easily, especially not when he was so invested in winning.

Yet, he knew—deep down—that if he ever wanted to break through to Y/N, he’d have to stop playing the game so much. He’d have to show her that, beneath the arrogant exterior, there was more to him than the world had ever known. And maybe, just maybe, that was precisely what she needed to see.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Y/N sat in her favorite corner of the café, her fingers drumming absently against her coffee cup as she stared down at the latest email from her editorial director at The Alchemy. It had been a long day, filled with deadlines and constant back-and-forths about articles. But this new email was different.

She had expected another mundane assignment, a piece on some new wizarding fashion trend or the latest potion craze. Instead, her editor’s words jumped off the screen with a new challenge:

“Ms. Weasley,

It has come to my attention that despite England’s star seeker Draco Malfoy coming in-and-out of your office, no story is being written about him for The Alchemy.

We need you to write a feature piece on Draco Malfoy.”

She blinked, rereading the message a few times, convinced she had misread it.

“Draco Malfoy?” she muttered to herself, her eyebrows knitting together.

What the hell?

Her first instinct was to toss the email aside. She wasn’t a gossip columnist, and she wasn’t the type to write puff pieces about famous Quidditch players. Y/N prided herself on the hard-hitting, serious stories she was known for—pieces that explored deeper issues, not the insipid celebrity profiles that others at The Alchemy seemed to thrive on.

But then, as much as she hated to admit it, the thought of writing about Draco Malfoy intrigued her. He wasn’t just some athlete who smiled for the cameras and spouted the usual soundbites. No, Draco had always been a more complex figure—a product of his family, his upbringing, and, she suspected, his own inner demons. She had seen the way he carried himself, the mask he wore, and the way he navigated his fame. There was more to Draco Malfoy than people realized.

Still, writing about him felt… strange. She hadn’t forgotten their previous encounters, where he’d flirted with her relentlessly, trying to get a rise out of her with his usual charm. And every time, she had shut him down. She wasn’t interested in him—at least, not in the way he clearly wanted her to be.

But now, she was being asked to dig deeper, to find the story behind the public persona. Her professional side told her it was just another assignment. The personal side of her couldn’t shake the unease in the pit of her stomach at the thought of spending more time with him.

The first meeting with Draco was set for the following week. She walked into the private room at the trendy restaurant where they had agreed to meet, her mind still swirling with questions. Draco was already there, sitting at a corner table, his signature smirk plastered across his face as he saw her approach.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Weasley, the woman who can’t be charmed,” Draco teased, his voice low and smooth. “How long did it take for you to come up with a way to make me sound interesting?”

The girl narrowed her eyes as she sat down, trying not to show discomfort. “You’re not the story I want to write, Malfoy,” she said, her tone sharp. “But my director seems to think you’re worth the ink.”

Draco chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Of course, they do. Who wouldn’t want to write about me?” His eyes twinkled with his usual cocky confidence, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel the familiar irritation bubble up.

She set her notepad on the table and gave him a pointed look. “So, tell me, Malfoy. What’s it like to be the golden boy of Quidditch? The press loves you. The fans adore you. But what’s going on behind that perfect smile of yours?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her directness. “Is that your first question, then? Going straight for the jugular?”

“Why not? I’m here to get the truth, not some carefully rehearsed spiel.”

His eyes softened for a moment, an almost imperceptible shift in his expression, but he quickly regained his usual cockiness. “Alright, alright. It’s true—being the best is exhausting. All the expectations, the pressure to perform perfectly, to look perfect. It’s a lot more work than people think. But, hey, it’s worth it when you’re the best.”

The girl jotted down some notes, but she couldn’t help but notice the faint flicker of something in his eyes—something real, something raw. It wasn’t the image of the perfect Quidditch star she expected, but the glimpse of someone who might be tired of being in the spotlight. It was a side of Draco Malfoy that was difficult to ignore.

She pressed on, determined not to be distracted. “England’s making history with how it’s the first time that the team has entered the world cup finals. How do you feel about this?”

The boy grinned, crossing his arms in amusement. “It’s only been my 2nd year playing for England as the seeker so it honestly brings me great joy to be part of this historical event.”

Nodding, Weasley continued, “Do you have a personal goal for the upcoming match?”

Draco exhaled, running a hand through his hair, making Y/N look up at him with a raised brow. The boy was about to say something until he hesitated for a moment, gears running in his head as he thought about his answer.

“I want the trophy.” He finally answered. “Nothing else would make me happier than raising the trophy with my own hands above my head. It’s my ultimate goal. I’ll be content for life once I finally make that happen.”

The girl continued to write in her notepad, nodding at every word the Quidditch star had spoken.

“And what about your personal life, Draco? Your time at Hogwarts? Your family?”

Draco leaned forward, his smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “Now, you’re getting personal. I see how it is.”

“Just trying to get the truth,” Y/N replied, not backing down.

He met her gaze, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. ”Maybe you’ll have to dig a little deeper to get that, Weasley.”

As the conversation continued, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that Draco was letting her in, just slightly more than he had before. But then, as quickly as the walls came down, they were back up again. He was a master at keeping things just out of reach. She could see that now.

But there was something else—something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. For all his bravado and charm, a vulnerability lurked behind his eyes. The question was whether she could uncover it—and whether she even wanted to.

Draco stood to leave as the interview wrapped up, giving her one last lingering look. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he said with that trademark smirk.

The reporter gathered her things, her mind racing. She’d gotten the surface-level story she expected. But something told her there was more—much more—to Draco Malfoy than she’d ever realized.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A few weeks after the first interview at the restaurant, Y/N sat next to Draco in a quiet corner of a rooftop bar, sipping wine while the city of London stretched out before them. The sound of distant laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but in that moment, it felt like it was just the two of them.

Draco had been quiet for most of the evening, a rare occurrence for him. His usual cocky smile was replaced with a more relaxed, contemplative expression as he stared out at the skyline. Y/N found herself watching him, the way the soft glow of the city lights illuminated the sharp angles of his face, the way his eyes flickered with thought.

“You’re quiet tonight,” she remarked, setting her glass down.

He shrugged, but there was a softness to his movements. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” she asked, intrigued despite herself.

He met her gaze, his eyes intense. “About how you’re the only person I’ve ever met who doesn’t seem to expect anything from me.”

Y/N frowned. “That’s not true. I expect plenty from you, Malfoy.”

His lips curled into a smile, but it was different than usual—less smug, more genuine. “What do you expect?”

“I expect you to stop acting like you have to be some perfect, untouchable person,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Because no one’s perfect, and no one’s untouchable. Not even you.”

Draco’s expression softened, his gaze flicking away for a moment before he turned back to her. “I don’t want to be untouchable. Just…” he paused, then looked down at his glass, tapping it lightly with his finger. “Just don’t let me screw this up.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, though she quickly masked it with a teasing smile. “I think you’ve already screwed it up a few times. C’mon, do you think mocking some of my work at The Alchemy just to get my attention would actually make me fall for you?”

He smirked, but there was no malice in it. “True. But I’m trying.”

Y/N wasn’t sure why, but something in his tone—something in his eyes—tugged at her. She wanted to resist, to remind herself that she couldn’t afford to get caught up in someone like him. But with every word, with every glance they shared, the walls she’d carefully built around her heart seemed to crumble just a little more.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As the days passed, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that she had just scratched the surface of something much more complex. Draco Malfoy was precisely as she’d expected in many ways: confident, charming, and completely self-assured in the public eye. But the moments between his carefully constructed exterior, the fleeting glances and small gestures, had made her realize something deeper lay beneath.

The next few weeks were filled with interviews, photo shoots, and press events. Draco’s schedule was packed with appearances, leaving him little time for anything other than his public image. But Y/N managed to secure more time with him, squeezing moments between his practices and press conferences.

Each time they met, the conversation deepened slightly. But for every step he took toward vulnerability, he seemed to retreat just as quickly.

Y/N had asked about his past and his family—subjects that usually turned him distant and defensive. Yet there were moments when she saw a flicker of something else, something more human. He’d speak of his childhood with a mixture of bitterness and longing, a sense of loss that cut deeper than she had expected.

“My father was never proud of me for anything except Quidditch,” Draco had said one afternoon, his eyes dark as they stared into the distance. “I could win every match, and he’d still find something to criticize. I never could escape his shadow.”

It was the first time he had shared anything personal, and it had taken Y/N by surprise.

“Do you remember how I told you that nothing would make me happier than the world cup trophy?”

Y/N nodded as an answer, her gaze focused deeply on Draco.

“To earn that trophy is to finally let go of my father’s disappointment in me.” He confessed, taking a big gulp at his firewhisky afterwards.

Y/N had been so used to Draco Malfoy, who prided himself on his self-sufficiency, the one who lived in the limelight and was always in control. She had never considered that, beneath all that, he might be carrying around the weight of such a complicated family history.

Yet Draco cut the conversation short the moment she let herself lean in, to ask more, to dive deeper into that pain. “Anyway, enough about that,” he’d said, standing up and brushing off the moment as if it were nothing. “What else do you want to know?”

And so, the reporter continued to write. At first, she focused on the public figure of Draco Malfoy—the successful, well-loved athlete who was more than just a face in the crowd.

But with every interview and moment spent with him, she started questioning what she was genuinely uncovering. She was digging, yes, but she wasn’t sure whether Draco Malfoy's story intrigued her—or the man himself.

It wasn’t until one late evening, long after the sun had set that Y/N realized just how much her feelings for Draco had shifted. She had been assigned to cover a charity event where Draco was being honored for his work with the wizarding community. The room was filled with celebrities, athletes, and wealthy families, all gathered to celebrate Draco’s accomplishments. It was the perfect opportunity for him to shine and be the golden boy again.

But there, at the back of the ballroom, she caught him standing alone, leaning against a column with a glass of champagne in hand, his eyes distant, staring out over the crowd. She had always thought of him as the center of attention, always surrounded by people who wanted to be near him, but this moment—how he looked almost… lost—took her by surprise.

The girl approached him cautiously, unsure if this was the same Draco Malfoy she had spent the past few weeks getting to know.

“You look like you’re having the time of your life,” The girl remarked dryly, unable to help herself.

Draco’s lips curled into his trademark smirk. “Oh, you know. Just enjoying the company of people who love me.” He replied.

But the lightness of his words didn’t quite match the heaviness in his eyes. The girl caught a glimpse of the façade he had built so carefully—he was pretending, and she saw right through it.

“Do you really enjoy these things, Draco?” she asked, her voice softer than she intended.

He looked at her then, really looked at her, as if weighing her words. There was an unsettling quiet in the air between them, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

“It’s what’s expected of me,” he finally said, his voice low.

Y/N’s heart softened at his words, and she could feel the walls he had built around himself, those barriers keeping everyone at a distance. This was a side of Draco she hadn’t seen before—the vulnerability, the uncertainty.

Before she could say more, there was a call from across the room—another colleague, another guest. Draco straightened up, wiping the moment away like it had never happened. “Duty calls” he said, his mask back in place. “I’ll see you later, Weasley.”

But as he turned to walk away, Y/N felt the weight of the unspoken words between them. She was beginning to realize that this story she was writing about Draco Malfoy wasn’t just about uncovering his public life. It was about something far more complicated that had crept up on her without warning.

She wasn’t just writing about Draco Malfoy anymore. She was trying to understand him.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was a quiet evening when Draco invited Y/N to a secluded spot near a pub, a place far from the bustling streets and prying eyes. She had been hesitant at first—Draco Malfoy didn’t exactly seem like the type to indulge in quiet, intimate settings—but something about the way he had asked, the sincerity in his voice, made her say yes.

When she arrived, she was surprised to find that it wasn’t a grand, lavish affair. It was just a small, private garden lit by hundreds of softly glowing lanterns, the gentle hum of music in the background. Draco was already there, standing by a small stone bench, a hesitant look on his face as if he wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

“Malfoy, what is this?” Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued as she took in the peaceful setting.

He gave her a small, sheepish smile. “I thought you might like something...different. Somewhere, we could talk without the usual distractions.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You? Trying to be quiet and intimate?”

Draco chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “I’m trying something new. I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with...romantic gestures.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. Draco Malfoy—arrogant, smug, unapproachable Draco—admitting he didn’t know how to do this. For a moment, the world seemed to stop, and all she could see was the vulnerability in his eyes.

He stepped toward her, offering her his hand. “I thought we could start with a walk. Maybe later we can... see where the night takes us.”

Y/N hesitated, but then she found herself taking his hand, her pulse quickening as his fingers brushed against hers.

They walked through the garden together, the soft glow of the lanterns casting a golden light over them. The path was lined with roses and jasmine, their sweet scent filling the air. Draco occasionally glanced at her, his smile more natural now, and Y/N found herself smiling back without even thinking about it.

After a while, they reached a small gazebo, draped in ivy and surrounded by flowers. Draco led her to the center, where a small table had been set up with a single candle flickering in the center. He pulled out a chair for her, a small gesture, but it made her heart flutter in a way she couldn’t explain.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Y/N said softly, her voice betraying the warmth she felt. “It’s…”

“Something I wanted to do,” Draco interrupted gently. He placed his hand on hers, his touch warm and reassuring. “Something I wanted to show you. That I can be more than the person you think I am.”

Y/N looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat as their eyes locked. There was no smugness in his expression now, no arrogance. Just sincerity—something she hadn’t expected from him, but found herself yearning for.

“I know I’ve messed up,” Draco continued, his voice low. “And I know I’m not perfect. But I want to try. I want to prove that I’m not just some spoiled, arrogant Quidditch player. I’m someone who’s willing to do this...to try for you.”

Y/N felt her walls begin to crumble. Every part of her had been bracing for him to let her down, for this to be just another game, another way to keep her interested. But something about the way he was looking at her, the way his hand remained gently resting on hers, made her believe him.

“You don’t have to prove anything, Draco,” she said quietly. “I just need to know you’re not playing games.”

He smiled, his eyes softening. “No games, Weasley. I’m not that stupid.”

The way he said it—so earnestly—left no room for doubt. She could feel the truth of his words, and for the first time, she realized how much she wanted to believe in him.

The evening went on, the quiet intimacy of the garden wrapping them in a cocoon of soft light and silence. It wasn’t grand or extravagant, but it was enough. Draco had finally shown her a side of him that was real, and in that moment, it felt like the world was just the two of them.

By the end of the night, as they stood together under the stars, Draco took a deep breath. “So, what do you think? Is this enough to make you reconsider that I might be worth it?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, and she smiled, the answer already clear. “I think I’m starting to believe you.”

Draco’s face lit up, and he pulled her in for a hug, one that felt more tender than anything they’d shared before. And as Y/N rested her head against his chest, she realized she wasn’t just falling for him—she had already fallen.

“You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire, but still holding back, as if waiting for some sign from her.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she opened her eyes to meet his, the raw emotion in his gaze pulling her in even deeper. “Then why don’t you?”

The words had barely left her lips when his other hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer, until there was no space left between them. She could feel the heat of his body against hers, the tension crackling between them, making it impossible to think clearly.

Draco leaned in, his lips just inches from hers, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. For a moment, everything seemed to slow—time stretching out as they hovered on the edge of something they both knew could change everything.

A sudden sound broke the silence. The rustling of leaves. A faint cough.

Y/N and Draco both snapped their heads to the side, a rush of disappointment and frustration sweeping over them. Standing just at the edge of the garden path, a figure was barely visible in the dim light.

"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

It was a familiar voice—one Y/N would recognize anywhere.

"George?" she called out, her words laced with a mixture of surprise and annoyance.

Draco stiffened beside her, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face the intruder.

"Couldn't find you two anywhere in the pub, so I figured you might be here," George Weasley said, stepping fully into the light with his characteristic grin. He raised a hand in apology. "Did I ruin something?"

Y/N let out a soft sigh, the tension that had been building between her and Draco instantly evaporating. The weight of the moment slipped away, replaced by the sudden, unwelcome intrusion of her older brother’s presence.

"Bloody hell," Draco muttered under his breath, rubbing his forehead in irritation. "I was about to—"

George, completely unaware of the emotional wreckage he’d just caused, smiled and raised an eyebrow. "About to what? Kiss her?" He gave a teasing glance to Y/N. "I mean, that’s the only reason I can think of you two standing so close."

Y/N could feel her cheeks burning, the awkwardness of the moment too much to ignore. "George," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "what are you doing here?"

"I told you, I was looking for you," he said with a shrug. "But I’m happy to leave you two to whatever… this is." He made a small gesture between them. "Just don’t do anything I’d do, alright?"

Draco shot him a glare, clearly less than thrilled with the interruption. "You know, George, I’m really starting to wonder what exactly you’re insinuating."

George chuckled and held his hands up in mock defense. "Nothing, nothing. Just wanted to make sure you weren't tying my little sister up in some crazy love affair."

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Can’t you go bother Fred?” she said, hoping to push her brother along.

But George just shook his head. “Nah, he’s busy at the shop. Anyway, I’ll leave you two to it. Just don’t blame me when it’s not my fault you two don’t kiss already. It’s been hanging in the air since I walked up.”

With that, George turned to leave, his footsteps growing quieter as he disappeared down the path.

Y/N exhaled, feeling a mix of relief and annoyance flood through her. "Well, that was awkward," she muttered, running a hand through her hair.

Draco’s posture had relaxed, but he was still watching her with an amused yet frustrated expression. "I can’t believe that just happened."

And just like that, the moment was lost—not by their own choice, but by fate and the mischievous timing of her brother. Yet, in that space between them, something still lingered, the anticipation hanging in the air like the faintest whisper of what might come next.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As the season finale approached, excitement buzzed throughout the wizarding world. The final game of the Quidditch World Cup was drawing near, and Draco Malfoy’s England team was on the cusp of victory. Every publication and every media outlet, was buzzing about the upcoming match. It was a culmination of years of hard work, and Draco was poised to lead his team to the win.

But as much as the excitement of the game filled the air, it wasn’t the only thing occupying Draco’s mind. Y/N Weasley had been a constant presence over the past few weeks, her insightful questions and perceptive eyes causing something inside him to stir.

It wasn’t about the chase anymore; it was about how she made him feel like someone with something real to offer, something that had nothing to do with his past. With Y/N, he wasn’t Draco Malfoy, the heir to the Malfoy fortune, the former Death Eater, or even the star Seeker of the England team. He was just Draco.

And now, as the final match loomed closer, something in him knew that he needed her there. He wanted her to witness the moment he had been working toward his entire life, to see him in his element at the peak of his career.

There was a vulnerability in that—asking her to witness his success, to be there as something more than just the journalist writing on his feature for a magazine.

The question came as a text one evening, just a few days before the big game. Y/N was sitting in her apartment, reviewing her notes for her article, when her phone buzzed.

“You’re coming to the final game, right?”

The girl stared at the message momentarily, her fingers hovered over the screen as she debated how to respond.

“I wasn’t planning on it. You’ve got plenty of people in your corner already.”

She hit send before she could second-guess herself, but a new message appeared from Draco moments later. “And you think they’re the ones I want there? You should come. I want you to see it. All of it.”

She felt a strange flutter in her chest at his words.

“Fine, I’ll be there. But don’t expect me to cheer for you.”

Draco’s reply was quick, playful, but there was an undertone of sincerity. “I’ll take what I can get. See you there, Weasley.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day of the match arrived, and Y/N found herself standing in the VIP section of the stadium, her heart beating faster than she would have liked. The atmosphere was electric, the stands filled with enthusiastic supporters. Draco had ensured that she had the best seat in the house—front and center, right near the team’s private box.

As the match kicked off, Y/N was fully aware that she was there not just as a reporter, but as someone who was beginning to care, in a way she had never intended. She watched Draco carefully, noting the way he moved with precision, the intensity in his eyes, and the confidence in every pass, every dive, every goal.

There was something magnetic about watching him play, not just for his skill, but for the quiet determination that seemed to flow from him.

During the halftime break, Y/N made her way up to the private box, where Draco was standing alone, looking out over the field. He had removed his goggles and gloves.

“You’re doing well,” Y/N said, stepping up beside him, trying to keep her tone casual.

“You came,” he said, his voice a mix of surprise and something else. He looked at the girl carefully. There, Y/N stood, wearing a black England Quidditch jersey with Draco’s last name on the back, the number 7 emblazoned proudly across it.

His heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected her to wear it, let alone wear it like she was wearing it for him. A small thrill ran through him.

“I said I would,” Y/N replied, her voice steady despite her heart racing.

Draco gave her a broad smile. “You look cute with my last name on your back.” He complimented, Y/N’s cheeks immediately turning red.

Silence engulfed their atmosphere for a while before Draco decided to break it.

“Do you think I can win?” he asked quietly, a rare moment of honesty breaking through his usual bravado.

She met his gaze, her own heart unexpectedly softening. “I think you’ve already won,” she said with quiet certainty. “No matter what happens in the game, you’ve already proven everything you set out to achieve.”

For a moment, Draco said nothing, but his eyes softened, and Y/N saw the vulnerability he had kept hidden. He took a step closer to her, his voice low. “That’s the thing about winning, Weasley. It never feels like enough. Not until I’ve got everything I want.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The game resumed, and Y/N’s focus shifted back to the field as Draco and his team pushed forward, the final match unfolding before her eyes.

On the pitch, Draco kept his focus sharp, scanning the skies for the glint of gold, but his mind wandered to her more often than it should have. Was she watching? Was she rolling her eyes every time the announcers praised him? Did she regret coming at all?

When he finally spotted the Snitch, his heart surged, not just with the thrill of the chase but with the knowledge that Y/N was here to see him succeed. He dove with precision, ignoring the French Seeker on his tail, and his fingers closed around the Snitch in one fluid motion. The crowd erupted, and his teammates surged toward him, but Draco’s gaze immediately lifted to the stands.

As the crowd cheered, Y/N found herself caught up in the moment's energy, but it wasn’t the victory that held her attention. It was Draco. She watched as he raised his arms in triumph, his face a mix of relief and elation, his hard work finally paying off.

The crowd erupted as the final whistle sounded, the golden snitch clutched tightly in Draco Malfoy’s hand. The scoreboard flashed the win: England - 310, France - 290. The stadium was a cacophony of cheers, chants, and magical fireworks lighting up the Parisian sky. His teammates swarmed him, their triumphant shouts blending into the roaring crowd. But Draco’s mind was already elsewhere.

He didn’t hear the commentators dissecting his final play or the announcer calling his name as the match’s MVP. All he could think about was her—Y/N Weasley, standing just past the enchanted barriers separating the players from the spectators.

As the crowd surged forward, Y/N made her way down to the field, determined to catch him before the madness of victory consumed him completely. She found him near the edge of the pitch, his teammates surrounding him, all celebrating their victory. But Draco’s eyes found hers immediately, cutting through the noise and the chaos.

For a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away. There was no crowd, no reporters, no fans clamoring for his attention. There was just Draco and Y/N—two people who had been circling each other for weeks, testing boundaries, pushing limits, and now, standing on the edge of something neither of them were prepared for.

Draco handed off the snitch to a teammate, brushing past the photographers calling his name. “Where are you going, Malfoy?” one of his teammates shouted, but Draco didn’t bother answering.

The trophy could wait. The celebrations could wait. Everything could wait.

By the time she saw him weaving through the crowd, his hair mussed from the game, a bead of sweat tracing his temple, he was already too close to ignore.

“Where’s the trophy, Malfoy?” she asked, her voice teasing and dripping with sarcasm but her eyes betraying the pride she felt.

“Don’t care,” he said simply, his chest still heaving.

“What kind of star player skips the celebration?” she quipped, but her words faltered as his hands found her waist. In one swift movement, he pulled her over to him, his fingers curling into the soft fabric of her coat.

“The kind who’s got better things to do,” he murmured, his voice low.

Her witty comeback dissolved as his lips crashed into hers, the kiss hard and desperate, as if he’d waited his whole life for this moment. The stadium, the cameras, the spectators—all of it faded into the background. It was just them, wrapped in the kind of alchemy that couldn’t be planned or controlled.

She tasted like red wine, and Draco thought, for once, he might actually have won something worth keeping.

When they finally broke apart, Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she saw his gray eyes. “You’re insane, Malfoy,” she whispered, her fingers still gripping the front of his jersey.

“Maybe,” he replied, brushing his forehead against hers. “But I’m yours.”

As the crowd chanted his name and his teammates hoisted the trophy, Draco stayed rooted in that moment with her, knowing that whatever happened next, nothing could compare to the magic of Y/N Weasley in his arms, grinning at him.

He looked at her for a long moment, and then, in a move that surprised her, he leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against her cheek in a far more intimate gesture than anything he had done before.

“Thank you, Y/N.” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion she hadn’t expected. “For being here. For seeing me.”

Y/N stood there, her heart racing as she tried to process the shift in their relationship. She hadn’t just witnessed his victory. She had seen him, indeed seen him—for the first time. And now, everything was different.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

On my final conversation with star-seeker Draco Malfoy, there I stood, on the sides of the Quidditch pitch, asking him “Where’s the trophy, Malfoy?”

But guess what? He just comes running over to me.

signed,

Y/N Weasley | Senior Editor at The Alchemy

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy au #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter au #harry potter imagines #loving-daisy works #weasley reader #post war hogwarts #post war #quidditch #seeker malfoy

233 notes · View notes

slytherintrikru · 1 year ago

Text

— || Revenge is Sweet || —

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x gryffindor!muggleborn!reader (SHE’S OF AGE)

Word count: 6224

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 16+, fingering, clit rubbing, cock in Vigina, male and female, adult content, adult language, cuss words, clit licking, degrading, fluff if you squint, pet names, anguish, cheating, heartbreak, revenge, crying, Lucius comforting Y/N?, aftercare, praise, daddy kink, cum swallowing, fluff, out of character Lucius, 2 almost 3 years after the 2nd wizarding war, younger woman with older man, first time together, heated make out session, kissing, hickeys, love bites, SFW if you squint. (SHE IS OF AGE)

Summary: Y/N wanted to surprise Draco by visiting him at the Malfoy Manor but ended up catching him cheating instead. While leaving she bumps into Lucius Malfoy and things get kinda heated. (SHE’S OF AGE)

Requested: by no one this is my idea

A/N: Hello, my fellow Dreamers, hope you like this. Please give me your feedback. BTW I also already posted this on my AO3 account @ slytherintrikru.

| Masterlist |

| Navigation |

Y/N navigated her way up the meandering, earthy path that led to the formidable gates of the Malfoy Manor. These gates, a grand testament to the opulence within, were adorned with wrought-iron craftsmanship that gleamed even in the muted light of dusk. Beyond the gates, a long, majestic driveway, flanked by a procession of ancient trees, guided her toward the mansion's imposing facade. Standing before her, the Malfoy Manor exuded an aura of architectural splendor. Its stately stone walls rose gracefully, adorned with intricate details that whispered of centuries past. Tall, narrow windows punctuated the facade, their panes seeming to conceal secrets within, bestowing upon the house an air of sinister allure.

The estate on which the manor resided was vast and mysterious. A dark forest encroached upon the edges of the property, casting eerie shadows that played hide-and-seek with the waning daylight. In stark contrast to this enigmatic woodland, a lush and meticulously cultivated garden graced the manor's rear, a testament to the Malfoy family's penchant for grandeur and elegance.

With each deliberate step, Y/N's heartbeat quickened. Her trembling hand reached out to rap upon the massive, wooden double doors that guarded the entrance. She couldn't have fathomed that she would ever find herself returning to this nightmarish place, where the echoes of her torment at the hands of Voldemort and his fanatical followers still reverberated in the depths of her memory. It had been two agonizing years since that fateful day when Fenrir Greyback had dragged her through those very doors, her hair pulled viciously as she struggled to match the monstrous pace set by her captor. The same mansion had borne witness to her harrowing encounter with the Dark Lord himself, the malevolent figure who had imprinted the dreaded Death Eater mark upon her left arm—a mark she had desperately sought to eradicate for almost three long years.

The reason for her presence here, despite the haunting memories, was her enduring love for Draco. Three years had passed since the inception of their clandestine relationship, but their bond remained unshaken. Draco's parents, however, were a formidable obstacle in their path. They looked down upon her as a 'filthy Mudblood,' a fact that had never deterred her resolve, so long as Draco stood by her side. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy had resorted to devious tactics, attempting to buy her loyalty, attempting to pry her away from their son. Their efforts had met with stubborn resistance, leaving them fuming with frustration. On countless occasions, they subjected her to scathing tirades, especially Narcissa, whose cruelty knew no bounds. After a week, Lucius resigned to a sullen silence, but Narcissa's venomous words and occasionally physical aggression persisted as a daily ordeal that Y/N endured with steely determination.

Y/N flinched as the manor door creaked open, her reaction akin to that of someone stumbling into a jinx. Her startled gaze dropped to the floor, where a familiar figure stood. It was Rue, the endearing house elf, a cherished presence in Y/N's life.

"What can Rue do for Draco's lovely girlfriend?" Rue inquired, her lips curving into a warm, welcoming smile.

Y/N couldn't help but smile in return; Rue had always held a special place in her heart. With her bright blue eyes and those endearing pointy ears, Rue exuded an unmistakable charm. Not only did she anticipate Y/N's every need, but she also prepared food and drinks precisely to Y/N's liking. Since the law against elf brutality had been enacted, Y/N had taken it upon herself to ensure Rue's comfort, providing her with clothing. Over the months, Rue had transformed, shedding the weight of servitude to become a happier, more carefree presence.

"I'd like to see Draco, please, Rue," Y/N replied, her voice gentle and careful not to startle the petite house elf.

Rue's smile widened, and with a tiny, reassuring grip on Y/N's hand, she led her inside. As the door closed softly behind them, Rue spoke again, her voice filled with an eagerness to assist. "Master Draco is in his room. Rue will take you."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, a playful idea forming in her mind. "No, no, it's fine. I can go myself. I want to surprise him."

The adorable house elf nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. With a snap of her fingers, she vanished from sight, leaving Y/N to navigate the winding corridors of the Malfoy Manor alone.

Y/N couldn't help but grin at the thought of Rue experiencing a moment of personal indulgence, wondering if the house elf was trying to savor the pleasures she had missed in her life of servitude. With that pleasant thought, Y/N embarked on her ascent up the many flights of wooden stairs that led to the upper reaches of the manor. Her footsteps echoed softly through the hallway as she made her way toward Draco's room.

As she arrived at her destination, Y/N came to an abrupt halt, her senses keenly attuned to an unexpected sound emanating from behind Draco's door. She strained her ears, desperately hoping it wasn't a case of accidentally stumbling upon an intimate moment between Lucius and Narcissa. A glance at the door's label confirmed it was indeed Draco's room, and then she heard it again.

Moans.

Specifically, the unmistakable sounds of male and female moans. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she leaned closer to the door, attempting to confirm what she dreaded most. She heard his name, Draco's name, whimpered from a female voice within, a voice that sent shockwaves through her.

Her blood ran cold, her heart rate spiked, and tears welled up in her eyes. Y/N prayed it wasn't true, that Draco wasn't betraying her. She cautiously pushed the door open, her movements silent as she observed the heart-wrenching scene before her. Draco, lost in passion, buried his face in Astoria Greengrass's neck, his vigorous thrusts filling the room.

Their eyes met, Y/N's and Astoria's, in a moment of cruel recognition. Astoria's smirk seemed to taunt Y/N, as if declaring, 'He's mine now, you filthy Mudblood.' With a heavy heart, Y/N gently closed the door, tears streaming down her face. She turned and fled down the hallway, down the stairs, without a care for her surroundings or the possibility of colliding with someone.

Tears flowed freely as Y/N reached the bottom of the stairs, her heart shattering into a million pieces. Her cries escaped in a heartbreaking crescendo, echoing through the manor's grandeur. In her distraught state, she collided with an unexpected presence, teetering dangerously on the brink of falling backward. However, strong arms enveloped her, steadying her in her moment of despair.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing, girl?" The voice, dripping with disdain, hissed through the tense air. Y/N's heart lurched at the sound, her gut telling her it was all too familiar. As her tear-blurred gaze lifted, she was met with the sight of a thoroughly baffled and irate Lucius Malfoy, his aristocratic features etched with a mix of anger and confusion. Her own expressive eyes, a mesmerizing shade of E/C, locked onto his cold, steely gray ones.

Blinking away the tears that blurred her vision, she stared at the formidable pureblood wizard who stood before her. Their eye contact held an unspoken tension, a connection fraught with history and complex emotions. It was in that moment that Y/N noticed something she hadn't expected in Lucius – concern. The realization was like a jolt, sending a shiver down her spine.

Concern?

It couldn't be right, could it? Why on earth would Lucius Malfoy, of all people, be concerned about her well-being? Y/N hesitated, her hand instinctively rising to wipe her eyes once more, as if questioning her own senses, wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her. But the look in Lucius's eyes remained, a glimmer of unexpected humanity in the formidable man who had long been an enigma to her.

"Are you going to speak, or just stand there like a dumb-witted Mudblood?" Lucius's words, laced with venom, cut through the heavy silence. Y/N turned away from him, hurt etched in her eyes, his cruel words piercing her heart. In that moment, the gap between them seemed insurmountable.

Lucius, however, couldn't ignore the pain he had inadvertently caused, and for a fleeting second, remorse tugged at his conscience. Yet, his pride prevailed, and instead of apologizing, he pressed further, his tone demanding answers. "What's wrong with you, girl?"

Y/N pulled herself away from him, a mixture of emotions welling up inside her. She hesitated for a moment, then her voice trembled as she questioned him, "W-Why do y-you care?"

The unexpected vulnerability in her voice caught Lucius off guard, and a flicker of something uncharacteristic passed through his stormy gray eyes. He blocked her path as she attempted to move past him, their proximity intensifying the tension between them. "Just because we got off to the wrong foot when we first met doesn't mean I'm the same person I was before," he hissed, a rare hint of vulnerability seeping into his words. "Now tell me what's wrong, or I'll use Legilimency on you."

Her defenses crumbling, Y/N couldn't hold back the flood of emotion any longer. The words tumbled out of her, her voice wavering as she confessed, "Your son cheated on me with Astoria, that's what happened." She glanced away, bracing herself for the judgment she anticipated. "You're probably happy that he's not with a filthy Mudblood like me anymore. I'll just—"

"He did what?!" Lucius's voice reverberated through the manor, his anger palpable as it resounded against the walls. Y/N glanced at him, a puzzled expression on her face. She couldn't comprehend why he would be so furious that his son, Draco, had cheated on her—a Mudblood—with a pureblood. Lucius Malfoy had never harbored any warmth toward Y/N, so this sudden outburst was baffling. She had always assumed that Draco's parents would be delighted if something like this were to happen.

Lucius's voice, filled with indignation, interrupted her thoughts once more. "How dare that boy break someone's heart instead of just telling you that he wants to end the relationship. I raised him to treat women with respect. Even if the girl is a filthy Mudblood!"

Y/N frowned, her gaze drifting downward to her feet, unable to meet Lucius's eyes. His words were laden with a complex mixture of anger, disappointment, and something she couldn't quite fathom.

"Why would you care anyway? You should be happy that he cheated on me. Now he can go marry a pureblood who's more beautiful than me," she muttered bitterly, her self-esteem shattered.

In an unexpected turn of events, the cold metal of the snake handle of Lucius's cane lifted her chin. She blinked in surprise as he swiftly pulled his cane away and grasped her chin roughly with his hand, forcing her to hold eye contact with him.

"Don't ever say those words again. Am. I. Understand, Y/N?" Lucius's voice, though stern, held a strange mixture of concern. She nodded in response, but it seemed that wasn't sufficient for him. He demanded more. "I expect you to answer when I ask you something!"

"Y-Yes, Sir!" she squeaked, her gaze locked onto his features. She couldn't help but notice the commanding presence he exuded, the sharp lines of his jaw, the strength evident in his angular face. His long, platinum blonde hair cascaded gracefully past his shoulders, framing his striking countenance. The blueish-gray eyes that held an air of authority seemed to peer directly into her soul. Y/N's cheeks flushed inexplicably as she found herself momentarily entranced by his striking appearance. ‘He's handsome’, she thought, a realization that seemed to take her by surprise.

Y/N's unspoken admiration for Lucius had been a well-guarded secret, a silent confession her heart made each time she crossed the threshold of the Malfoy Manor. Her heart would do a subtle dance of anticipation whenever she knew she'd encounter him, and a flush would steal across her cheeks, like a clandestine tribute to his striking presence. It was an irrational reaction, one she couldn't quite understand, given that Lucius had never hidden his disdain for her—well, at least, he hadn't before.

Lucius's trademark smirk played on his lips, but there was a curious shift in his demeanor. Gone was the initial cockiness, replaced by genuine amusement as he surveyed Y/N's puzzled expression. Her blush intensified, a shade that rivaled the crimson and gold of the Gryffindor house colors.

"You really think I'm handsome?" he probed, his tone now laced with curiosity. He leaned in closer, the proximity between them causing a subtle flutter in Y/N's heart. Lucius's eyes sparkled with a newfound charm as he awaited her response.

"I—what? I didn't—" she stammered, but her words were abruptly silenced.

"Legilimens, my darling girl," Lucius smoothly interrupted. His smirk remained, but it was tinged with a magnetic confidence that left her feeling exposed. He leaned even closer, his lips brushing against her ear, and he whispered softly, his voice a provocative caress, "Ah, yes. It appears you've conveniently forgotten that I possess the ability to delve into your mind. You see, I heard every thought you've had about me. Like your secret desire for me to pin you down on my bed, to make you forget how to walk."

Y/N's eyes widened, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Her heart raced, and she felt a shiver of vulnerability wash over her. Lucius's audacious revelation had unraveled a new layer of intrigue and desire, transforming their dynamic into something far more intricate and captivating.

She gasped, disbelief coursing through her. Could he truly have been privy to her every innermost thought? It felt surreal, like a dream she was unable to awaken from. In an attempt to regain her composure, she instinctively retreated a step, allowing her gaze to lock with his. His eyes held the same intense emotion she had noticed earlier – a smoldering, undeniable lust that sent a tingle down her spine. He leaned closer, his body almost brushing against hers, and she could feel the heat radiating from him.

"That's the very reason I've maintained my distance from you all these months," he admitted, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath its low, seductive tone. "After my ex-wife and I discovered the truth about you and my son's relationship, I tried to keep my demeanor cold. Yet every night, unable to control my desires, I found myself lost in fantasies of you," he confessed, his words a hushed, intimate secret shared between them.

A blush painted her cheeks once more as his voice whispered sensually into her ear, sending shivers coursing down her spine. His hands found their way to her sides, exerting a gentle, yet possessive squeeze. She couldn't help but shudder at his touch.

"My son is a fool for betraying such a beautiful, enchanting nymph like you," he purred, his lips grazing the tender skin just below her earlobe. His kisses left a fiery trail down her neck, only to ascend slowly back towards her lips. When their mouths met, it was as though a swarm of butterflies took flight in her stomach, fluttering wildly. She didn't respond immediately, her brain struggling to catch up with the whirlwind of sensations. Gradually, she inhaled his intoxicating scent, responding to his kisses with a growing hunger of her own.

Y/N's moans of desire seemed to echo within the cavernous expanse of Lucius's opulent mansion. Every step she took away from the memory of Draco's betrayal and closer to Lucius felt like a transgressive leap into the unknown. The kiss, fueled by a volatile mix of guilt and longing, deepened with each passing second. It was a magnetic force pulling them closer together, their lips becoming the epicenter of their shared need.

Her fingers wove themselves deeper into Lucius's long, platinum blonde hair, the strands silky and cool to the touch. He couldn't help but groan in response, the sound a testament to the intensity of their connection. His powerful hands, previously residing at her sides, ventured boldly downward, reaching her shapely derrière. With a delicate yet firm touch, he squeezed, sending exhilarating waves of sensation through her body.

With a sudden surge of passion, Lucius lifted Y/N off her feet, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to maintain their electrifying kiss. The sensation of being carried by him, the firmness of his grip, and the heat of his body against hers were intoxicating. They ascended the grand staircase, their rhythmic ascent echoing through the mansion's ornate halls.

As they turned down the dimly lit hallway, the portraits of stern-faced ancestors bore witness to their clandestine rendezvous. The anticipation was palpable, each step a deliberate stride toward the unknown. The soft glow of moonlight spilled through heavy, brocade curtains, casting intricate patterns on the Persian rugs that lined the floor.

With an audacious display of strength and desire, Lucius kicked open the door to his lavishly appointed bedroom. The door swung wide with a creak, revealing a chamber bathed in shadows. The grandeur of the room was nothing short of breathtaking, with its sumptuous canopy bed, antique furnishings, and gilded accents. The room exuded an air of timeless elegance, a stark contrast to the illicit passion that had led them there. Yet, with another commanding kick, he shut the door behind them, sealing their secret within the confines of the room's opulent embrace.

In the opulent chamber, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtered through heavy curtains, he guided her towards his bed with a gentleness that belied the intense desire simmering between them. The sumptuous sheets, adorned with intricate patterns, awaited their embrace, a testament to the luxury that surrounded them. With a feather-light touch, he laid her down, the mattress conforming to the curves of her body like a lover's caress.

Desire surged between them, an irresistible force pulling them closer together. She eagerly wound her legs around him, her longing palpable. A deep, resonant chuckle rumbled from his chest, a seductive reverberation that filled the room. It was a sound that resonated with promise, the promise of what was to come.

His lips embarked on a slow descent down the delicate curve of her neck, leaving a trail of searing kisses in their wake. His teeth grazed her skin, eliciting sharp gasps and urgent moans from her trembling lips. Y/N's moans danced in harmony with the hushed symphony of their passion, their clandestine desires woven into every sound.

With a masterful touch, his hands began their sensual exploration, fingers tracing the contours of her body. He reached for the fabric of her shirt, the anticipation of their impending intimacy electrifying the air. But as he made to unveil her, he paused, gazing into her eyes with a mixture of tenderness and raw desire. His voice, a sultry whisper, hung in the air like an unspoken invitation, "Do you want to continue this?"

Her heart swelled with a heady blend of love and desire at his considerate question. It wasn't just about the act itself; it was about the connection they shared, the intimacy that extended beyond the physical. Her eyes met his, and she nodded in fervent agreement, but his gaze turned insistent, demanding more than a mere gesture.

She acquiesced, her voice a soft, breathless confession. "Yes, I want to continue."

With the patience of a man intoxicated by her presence, he lifted her shirt, revealing her in all her vulnerability and desire. Each moment was a deliberate act of unveiling, an exploration of the secrets they had kept hidden for too long. Her whimpers of longing grew more pronounced, a sweet symphony of passion that ignited the room.

Their discarded shirts lay scattered, forgotten remnants of the world they had left behind. Their lips collided once more, a fervent clash of desires. His hands, strong and gentle, cradled her face, deepening the kiss into a consuming blaze of longing. In this stolen moment, their connection transcended the physical, binding them together in a fiery embrace that defied the boundaries of reason and restraint.

In the cocoon of their desires, time seemed to slow, allowing them to savor every tantalizing moment. The room, adorned with rich, heavy curtains that filtered the moon's soft glow, bathed them in an otherworldly ambiance. They paused briefly to remove the remaining garments that clung to their heated bodies, leaving a trail of discarded clothing scattered haphazardly across the floor.

With a profound longing etched upon their faces, they surrendered to the pull of their desires. He took the initiative, his lips blazing a path of fiery kisses down her form. Every inch of her skin he touched seemed to ignite with desire, his teeth delicately grazing, and his mouth fervently claiming her.

One of his hands, large and commanding, found its place on her breast, the fingers expertly working her sensitive flesh. The other sought solace on her hip, the grip possessive yet tender. Y/N's response was immediate, her back arching sensually as she pressed herself closer to him. The room bore witness to her unrestrained passion, shadows playing tricks on their entangled figures.

The dimly lit room provided an intimate backdrop to their stolen moment, amplifying the intensity of their connection. She gasped, unable to stifle the whirlwind of sensations coursing through her body. Her longing and need reached a fevered pitch as his lips moved relentlessly over her skin.

This sensation was unlike anything she had ever encountered, not even with Draco. It was a heady concoction of raw desire and an emotional connection that left her feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable, yet simultaneously empowered and alive.

His lips reluctantly abandoned her chest, tracing a searing path downward, inching closer to the epicenter of her desire. Her hips reacted instinctively, a silent plea for more, a plea for him to satiate the burgeoning hunger that consumed her. In response, he chuckled darkly, a knowing grin playing upon his lips.

"So, so greedy for me, aren't you?" he purred, his voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "I've barely even started, my little nymph, and you're already squirming."

Her moans grew in volume, punctuating the charged atmosphere. Her hips continued their rhythmic dance, a wordless invitation for him to delve deeper into her desires. Just as hope began to wane, he boldly ventured between her legs. His thumb found her eager clit, tracing slow, electrifying circles that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. She couldn't help but gasp loudly, her moans intensifying as her body surrendered to his skillful touch.

“L-Lucius!” Y/N's fervent whimper hung in the air, a plea for more that only fueled Lucius's desire to push her further into the depths of pleasure. He reveled in the sound, a wicked grin playing upon his lips as he continued to work his magic. His fingers, slick with her arousal, glided effortlessly inside her, seeking out her g-spot with uncanny precision. The sensation of his touch sent electric jolts of pleasure coursing through her, her moans becoming a chorus of surrender.

The room seemed to close in around them, the ambiance heavy with the heady scent of their desire. Shadows danced seductively across the walls, an intimate audience to their clandestine tryst. Every subtle movement, every trembling breath, was magnified in the dim light, intensifying the eroticism of the moment.

Lucius's voice, a velvet caress of dominance, lured her deeper into submission. "That's right, my little slut," he whispered huskily, his words both an affirmation and a command. "Feel how good I'm making you. Did he ever make you feel like this? Did he know all the right spots to please you?"

She struggled to form coherent words, the pleasure he evoked rendering her speechless. Her response was a breathless admission of truth, punctuated by her moans of ecstasy. "N-No... aahh-"

Lucius's eyes bore into her with an intensity that left her feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet utterly consumed by desire. His fingers continued their relentless assault on her g-spot, her body quivering in response. Her pussy clenched around him, a physical manifestation of her escalating pleasure, and he couldn't help but grunt with satisfaction.

"My little slut," he growled, his voice dripping with unrestrained lust, "you've never felt this kind of pleasure before, have you? Well, let's make sure you're fully satisfied, my dear."

With each word, he propelled her further into the abyss of desire, his fingers dancing with a masterful touch that promised to fulfill her every longing. In the dimly lit room, their forbidden encounter continued, a symphony of passion and submission that echoed through the night.

Lucius's descent towards her quivering core was an agonizingly slow and tantalizing journey. His head moved lower, inch by tantalizing inch, until his mouth hovered just above her dripping wet pussy. The room, bathed in the soft, dim light of concealed passion, seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of the forbidden act about to unfold.

Y/N's body was a live wire, tingling with desire as his warm breath caressed her sensitive flesh. Her back arched in a primal response, a silent plea for him to continue, to grant her the pleasure she craved. The air was thick with tension, the electrifying atmosphere heightened by the palpable anticipation of what was to come.

With a deliberate, torturous slowness, his tongue made its first sensuous contact with her throbbing clit. Y/N's response was immediate and intense; she arched her back, a breathless gasp escaping her lips. Waves of desire surged through her, her hips rising to meet his mouth in a fervent demand for more. His tongue traced lazy circles around her clit, each pass a teasing caress that left her trembling with need.

Her hips moved in rhythmic desperation, bucking into his mouth as she sought to intensify the pleasure. Lucius, the master of seduction, had her in a hypnotic trance, his tongue shifting tactics to move from side to side, skillfully exploring every sensitive inch of her. He returned to her clit, sucking with a purposeful hunger that sent shivers coursing through her body. Her moans grew in intensity, a symphony of ecstasy that filled the room.

As if orchestrating a symphony of pleasure, his fingers joined the sensual dance, slick with her arousal. They thrust in and out with a relentless rhythm, each penetration hitting her g-spot with pinpoint accuracy. Y/N's body was a trembling instrument of desire, her moans and whimpers filling the room like a seductive melody.

A familiar sensation began to coil within her abdomen, growing in intensity with each tantalizing moment. Her pussy clenched around his fingers as the waves of pleasure overtook her. With a gasp that shattered the air, she climaxed, her body trembling in the throes of ecstasy.

Lucius's voice, thick with desire and dominance, broke through her post-orgasmic haze. "Good girl, my good girl," he murmured, his words both a praise and a command. Her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction. He withdrew his hand from her quivering pussy, his fingers glistening with her essence. With forceful insistence, he grasped her jaw, parting her lips and presenting his cum-covered fingers to her mouth. "Taste yourself, whore!" he demanded, his voice a potent blend of authority and lust, igniting a primal hunger within her.

The room, cloaked in shadows, seemed to hold its breath as Y/N's lips encircled Lucius's fingers, moving with an almost hypnotic rhythm as she licked and sucked them clean. Her tongue, eager and tantalizing, left no trace of her essence behind, and Lucius watched her with a predatory hunger that mirrored her own desire. With an excruciating slowness, he withdrew his fingers from her mouth, his grip shifting to encircle her delicate throat, a possessive hold that sent a jolt of excitement through her.

A deep, throaty chuckle resonated from Lucius, a dark sound that underscored his mastery over her. It was a symphony of submission, her whimper in response to his control weaving through the charged air. His other hand, which had been on her jaw, descended with purposeful intent to his throbbing cock. With tantalizing deliberation, he began to stroke himself, each languid movement of his hand a seductive overture to the impending climax of their desires.

Y/N grappled with a myriad of emotions. She knew she should be overwhelmed with guilt, entangled in an illicit affair with her ex-boyfriend's father. Yet, beneath the layers of her moral reservations, a burning desire and a thirst for revenge surged within her. She yearned to make her ex-boyfriend pay for his betrayal, to mend her shattered heart by indulging in the very act that had caused her so much pain.

Her internal turmoil was momentarily eclipsed as she felt the firm tip of his cock teasing her wet, throbbing pussy. The exquisite friction sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through her, and her moans and whimpers filled the room like a seductive aria. Her body was a symphony of need, the sultry dance of his cock against her clit driving her to the brink of ecstasy.

Lucius's voice, dripping with dominance and desire, anchored her in the present moment. "My little mudblood," he taunted, his words laden with a derogatory term that should have stung. Instead, the sultry timbre of his voice rendered her helpless, a willing captive to his seduction. "Is this what you've desired all this time? For a real man to fuck you, to slide his cock deep inside you and make you feel good?"

Despite the term, her moans and whimpers betrayed her true desires, her voice trembling with need. "Y-Yes, Daddy," she whimpered, her plea echoing through the room, a fervent entreaty for the fulfillment of her deepest, most forbidden fantasies. “ Please, fuck me!”

"Daddy? Hmm?" Lucius questioned, his voice dripping with irresistible seduction that hung in the air like a sultry promise. A low, dark chuckle followed, resonating with a wicked allure as his eyes sparkled with mischief and a hint of malevolence. It was a look that promised a thrilling journey into forbidden desires, an intoxicating blend of pleasure and danger.

The room, cloaked in shadows and secrecy, bore witness to their clandestine rendezvous—a sensual dance of dominance and submission that unfolded in hushed gasps and fervent touches. Lucius reveled in her surrender, delighting in the way the derogatory term slipped off his tongue, and, to his surprise, she seemed to share in that twisted pleasure. "My little mudblood is filthy, isn't she?" he continued, his words dripping with desire and a touch of cruelty. In their intimate connection, the term had evolved into an oddly cherished secret, symbolizing her eager willingness to plunge into the irresistible depths of their forbidden passions. "I like that."

With deliberate intent, Lucius poised himself at the edge of her ecstasy, the air thick with anticipation. He surged into her abruptly, a powerful thrust that drew an electrified whimper from Y/N. Her body responded instinctively, arching in response to the sudden intrusion, a wordless plea for more. Lucius groaned in satisfaction, luxuriating in the exquisite sensation of her tight, wet heat enveloping him.

"Daddy!" Y/N's moan, fervent and desperate, reverberated through the room, echoing the intensity of her longing and submission.

Lucius wasted no time in unleashing the primal depths of his desire, setting a relentless pace that sent tremors through the bed beneath them. Pleasure and pain intertwined as Y/N's body stretched to accommodate him, her moans and gasps forming a seductive symphony that filled the room. Each powerful thrust propelled her closer to the precipice of ecstasy, the headboard bearing witness to the fervor of their illicit union.

"F-Fuck," Lucius hissed, his voice a symphony of unquenchable desire as he intensified his rhythm. His hips surged against her with unrestrained lust, each collision sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. The room resounded with their shared passion, an intoxicating rhythm that reverberated through the air and ignited an inferno of sensations. “You’re so tight and wet, aaah- I’m going to have so much fun destroying this tight little hole of yours.”

The hand that encircled her throat tightened incrementally, a gesture of dominance that sent a thrill of arousal coursing through Y/N. Her fingers tangled in Lucius's long, platinum blonde hair, tugging gently as she sought to draw him closer. His primal groans and moans in response only served to deepen her desire, each intoxicating sound forging an unbreakable connection between them in the hidden world they had created.

Their moans, like an intricate duet, melded into an intoxicating symphony of desire, echoing through the dimly lit room. With each primal thrust, he plunged deeper and faster into her, igniting a passionate crescendo that left them both gasping for breath. Her heart raced in response to the electrifying pleasure coursing through her veins.

"Lucius—Lucius! Aaaahhh—fuck! Daddy!" Her words, a fervent chant of need and submission, spilled from her lips in breathless abandon. Her hips responded in kind, moving in a seductive rhythm that matched his powerful thrusts, a dance of desire that transcended the bounds of their forbidden liaison.

"So damn good! Aahh—yes! Oh fuck, my little mudblood knows how to please me," he growled with unapologetic desire, his voice a seductive purr that sent shivers cascading down her spine. His hips quickened their relentless pace, pounding into her with an unyielding urgency that caused the bed to groan and creak beneath them, a testament to the fierce intensity of their union. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel, slut!

Her moans swelled, a wild symphony of ecstasy and surrender that reverberated through the room like a siren's call. She clawed at the sheets beneath her, her fingers desperately seeking purchase in the soft fabric as waves of pleasure crashed over her. It was an exquisite torment, a tantalizing whirlwind of sensations that threatened to consume her entirely.

"Daddy, you—ahh—feel so good," she gasped, her voice trembling with a potent mix of longing and desperation. Her nails traced feverish patterns over his heated skin, leaving trails of tingling sensation in their wake. Her silent entreaty was clear: she yearned for him to take her harder, to claim her completely in the tempest of their shared passion. “You make me feel so good! You’re fucking me so much better than him.”

Amid the dimly lit room, their passionate entwining continued, each feverish moment adding a new layer to their shared desire. Lucius, a commanding figure, maintained his relentless thrusts, his dominance evident in every movement. Her fervent responses wove a tapestry of longing and ecstasy, their chemistry igniting the air around them.

"I know, my little nymph," he purred, his voice an intoxicating blend of pleasure and command. His grip on her tightened possessively, fingers leaving tantalizing imprints on her heated skin. "Cum for me, slut. Show me how good I make you feel." His words hung in the air like a seductive spell, sending electrifying shivers throughout her body.

With each powerful thrust, the tip of his cock skillfully teased her cervix, intensifying the delicious ache in the pit of her stomach. Their bodies moved in perfect unison, a dance that seemed to transcend the boundaries of time and reason, an intricate symphony of passion that left them breathless.

Lucius, releasing his hold on her throat, replaced it with his mouth, his lips and teeth marking her skin as he continued to slam into her with primal urgency. Love bites and passionate kisses adorned her flesh, evidence of their unrestrained fervor. They moved together, bodies melding into one, a force of nature that defied control. In a rapturous climax, they reached the pinnacle of their desire, their voices rising in unison, filling the room with their unrestrained passion.

As Lucius withdrew from her, a plaintive whimper escaped her lips, a testament to the aching desire that still clung to her. His triumphant smirk hinted at the pleasure he derived from her desperate longing. As he made his way to the bathroom to cleanse himself, her eyes remained fixed on the vacant space he had occupied, her body still tingling with the fading echoes of their intense union.

Upon his return, a damp cloth in hand, he approached her with eyes that held both tenderness and desire. Every stroke of the cloth was a gentle caress, an unspoken declaration of their strange intimacy. The discarded rag landed carelessly beside them, a forgotten relic of their fervent encounter.

"Go to sleep, my little nymph," he whispered, his arms enveloping her in a protective embrace. "I'll be here when you wake." His words were a soothing promise, lulling her into a cocoon of security and contentment that belied the complexity of their relationship.

She nestled against him, her heart aflutter with emotions that defied easy categorization. Despite the impending repercussions of their actions, she couldn't deny the profound satisfaction she felt. As her eyes fluttered closed, the only thought that remained was that revenge, in its twisted and tumultuous way, could be intoxicatingly sweet.

2K notes · View notes

waterfae · 1 month ago

Text

A Good Pillow [Part 11]

Summary: A glimpse of your budding friendship with Ominis and your growing feelings after the events in the Scriptorium.

Pairings: Ominis Gaunt x Reader, Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mild language, angst, comfort, fluff, friends-to-lovers, unhinged Slytherins, complicated relationships, house-neutral reader, no use of Y/N, no beta

Word Count: 1.5+ K

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

|| General Masterlist || Hogwarts Legacy Masterlist ||

The world around you paused and faded into silence. In the stillness, you felt as though you were aimlessly floating; you’re body not your own and completely detached. You felt nothing. Not the injuries you acquired from the recent battle or the rocks digging into your knees as you knelt beside your precious Professor Fig. You didn’t hear the footsteps of several professors clambering into the chamber, nor did you feel the fingers that dug into your arms as someone tried to shake you back to reality. It was of no use. You only continued to stare down at your mentor, dazed, as you were hoisted up to your feet and passed along to another professor so the others could return their attention back to the body that laid lifeless on the floor.

You were quickly pulled away from the scene, a task easily accomplished as you were not yet lucid enough to protest. It was not until you caught sight of Professor Weasley were you torn from the spell. It was in that moment, when you locked eyes and saw the despair in hers, did it finally strike you that what you witnessed was very much real and a grisly sob was released. The outpouring of tears began and you stumbled forward reaching out to her, breaking from the other professors hold, who you now recognized to be Professor Onai. Professor Weasley moved swiftly towards you, catching you in her arms just as your knees gave out and she held tightly to your trembling frame as you cried and cried and cried...

You had never imagined that when you sneaked away from the Hospital Wing earlier in the day that you would be returning with your mentor and friend. Cold. Dead. Gone.

Madame Blainey fussed at first when she found Professor Weasley and Professor Onai assisting you to the bed you had previously occupied, admonishing your escape and the addition of injuries to your already growing list. You weren’t listening however, lost in your thoughts. Hogwarts was safe. The wizarding world had been spared. But at a cost. She immediately came to a halt once Professor Weasley gave her a pleading and sorrowful look.

The others came soon afterward, trying to keep Professor Fig’s body hidden as they floated him to furthest area of the wing. Madame Blainey let out a gasp and moved quickly, understanding now why Professor Weasley had given that look and pulled the dividers out, blocking the scene from any possible onlookers as Professor Fig was laid upon one of the empty beds. Professor Weasley observed you one last time, making sure you were settled before leaving to call upon the Headmaster.

You laid there in your hospital bed, tears streaming down your face once more with the Keeper’s wand still firmly in your grip.

You couldn’t stand being in the castle after Professors Fig’s memorial. All the looks and condolences from your fellow students were all too much; they all knew how close you had become with the professor, but they would never know the reality or depth of it. It was suffocating and you hated it. You stole away amidst the feast that followed and found yourself down by the boathouse, tossing small pieces of bread into the lake and taking solace in the sound of the water gently sloshing against the stones. The moment, however, was disrupted not too long after.

“There you are.” You turned to find Sebastian descending the final set of steps towards you, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

You ripped a couple more pieces from your dinner roll and tossed them into the water, “I needed some air.”

He took the place beside you, hands in his pockets, both of you looking out towards the other side of the shore, “Can’t believe we lost Fig. I didn’t know him as well as you did, but I know he was a good man. He was fortunate to have you.” You bowed your head in sadness at his words, “Glad Weasley spoke for him – she honored him well. Fig will be remembered.” He paused and turned his gaze to you, “How are you feeling though? Truly?”

“How do you think?” You retorted bitterly as you threw a few more pieces.

“Dunno. That’s why I’m asking.”

You delayed, thinking of your reply. How were you feeling? From your stint in the hospital wing to now, you’ve had plenty of time to ruminate on your self-pity and contemplate all the things that had happened since your journey began. George Osric is dead. Lodgok is dead. Solomon Sallow is dead. Professor Fig is dead. Death followed you and you were as much of a killer as the boy standing beside you. Poachers continued to run amok even with Victor Rockwood gone. You were stuck playing Keeper with a repository you couldn’t destroy and yet had no idea what to do with. And you couldn’t even help Anne with her curse. What was even the point of it all? It was lost to you.

“Useless.” You finally uttered, “I feel useless.”

Sebastian frowned at your answer, “Good Merlin, woman. Do you know what they’re calling you in there? Hero of Hogwarts.” He removed a hand from his pocket and placed it on your shoulder, “Give yourself some credit. Actually, give yourself a lot of credit. You saved the school.” He softened when you gave no response,“You’ve done a lot, but you can’t do everything. You can’t save everyone.”

“Not the tune you were singing not too long ago.” You said sorrowfully, tearing more pieces of bread apart.

“I –” He let out a sigh of defeat, “I was not myself then. And I do regret saying those things. All of it.” He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, “There is no excuse. Ominis had said so, but I couldn’t see it until recently: I took it all for granted. You especially and even after everything, you were able to find out what really happened to Anne; who really cursed her. I owe you an apology. I’m really, really sorry.”

You weren’t sure what kind of response to give just yet, so you remained silent, taking whatever was left of your roll and throwing the entirety of it into the lake.

“Ominis spoke with Anne.” He said abruptly. You turned slightly, looking at him out of the corner of your eye as he continued, “She believes I should pay for what I did. But she won’t turn me in. She said the guilt I’ll have to live with is punishment enough.” You fully turned to him then and raised your own hand to the one he kept on your shoulder, placing it atop of his in what you hoped to be comforting, “The thing is...I think I’ve lost my sister forever. She refused to even see me. I can’t blame her. I couldn’t really blame any of you if you gave up on me entirely. You all believed in me and I let you all down.”

“Anne may just need some time.” You recalled how furious she had looked the last time you saw her, yet you hoped that somehow, after her grieving, there would still be room in her heart for her brother; it was the same hope that you had for yourself after his apology, “Surely one day she’ll be able to forgive you. You’re the only family she has left.”

“I hope you’re right.” He took hold of your hand even as he let it fall from your shoulder, “I realized I can’t undo what’s been done. But I can try everyday to make up for it.” He pulled you towards him then and encased you in his arms as he buried his face into your shoulder, “I owe you and Ominis everything for standing by me.”

It took you by surprise, but you returned his embrace, hesitantly at first, then all at once, wrapping both your arms around him and resting your head against his.

“This suits you much better.” You said after a minute.

He pulled away to look at you questioningly, brows furrowed.

“Relic-less.” You answered his unstated question with a small smile beginning to form on your lips, “Without it, you’re more...you. Just as I met you that first day in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“Seems so long ago.” He replied with a smirk, “I guess Ominis was right, yet again. I really should stay away from dark objects.”

“Probably.”

The two of you fell into a lull, one you both allowed to continue as the night grew darker and more chilly. Silence with Sebastian was usually awkward, brought on by some unhinged arguments or impulsive actions. But this one was peaceful, a rare occurrence as of late. Nothing was said in those moments and yet you found great pleasure and reassurance in it as he continued to hold your hand whilst gazing past the dock.

“Thank you.” As always, it was Sebastian who was the one to break through the quiet first.

You looked up at him and found him looking down at you with the most warm of expressions. It made you smile as you asked, “Whatever for?”

“Your friendship. I am grateful for it.” With his free hand, he reached out to fix a stray lock of hair that had fallen forward over your shoulder, “I’m glad you came to Hogwarts.”

a/n: And so, you're all finally caught up alongside my AO3 readers. Which means we've only got one chapter left to go. Oh dear. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and my askbox is always open. ♡

taglist: @cherry-cola-100 @moonsickness-posts @superblyspeedydragon @plumzlovesfics @costellation-hunter

@drywipes @wyvernthekriger

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy fanfic #🧚🏻‍♀️࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟfaefic

125 notes · View notes

galedekarios · 10 months ago

Text

in honour of the boop: tara-related items in idle champions

i thought this would be a cute thing to do, especially because the description of the items related to tara are very sweet and offer a bit more insight into their relationship with each other.

1: Fond Memories

Even at my lowest, playing with Tara lifted my spirits...

2: Ball of Retrieval

...though the ball's purpose eluded her. I was always the one fetching it...

i thought this was especially sweet because tara is very much caught in this dichotomy of her 'feline instincts' while also being so person-like that gale refers to her as a colleague and fellow wizard as well as his best friend, acknowledging that it was she who saved him while he was arguably at his lowest, while she in turn acts very motherly with him.

3: Cat Flap of Displacement

Tara comes and goes as she pleases. But she's always pleased to help me.

this spell is of tara's invention and exists in the game as well. she references it in the gale origin as well in the epilogue, and it allows her to visit gale and morena throughout the game.

4: Ring of Evasion

A ring as evasive as Tara, when I asked how she obtained it...

this again reminded me of tara bringing gale a ring of blink in a companion playthrough, as well as a ring of evasion in his origin playthrough.

we do know she loves to snoop and it's always been a hc of mine that she does steal artefacts for gale, acquiring them by less than savoury means.

5: Robes of Increased Potency

I could get used to these. Elegant, but powerful - just like Tara.

another instance that clearly shows just how much gale values tara. it's clear whenever he talks about her - even if he might tease her from time to time.

in conclusion

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #tara the tressym #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #idle champions #ch: gale dekarios #ch: tara the tressym #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

322 notes · View notes

jbaileyfansite · 2 months ago

Text

Interview with W Magazine (2024)

Jonathan Bailey has traveled the world to promote Wicked, but there was one person he was especially eager to share the film with: his 94-year-old grandmother. She nurtured his love for musical theater and encouraged him to pursue ballet as a child, thus shaping his career in the arts.

So, the day after Wicked came out in the U.K., Bailey hosted a private screening at a local cinema for four generations of his family. While sitting in between his nana (who had painted her nails green for the occasion) and his mom and dad, Bailey became overcome with emotion.

“It’s a miraculous thing to know that what it came down to is having parents who let me go to the local village hall, and a grandparent who let me play, dance around and sing, and be free at such a young age,” Bailey tells W. “If you can catch a passion and just ring-fence it at such a young age, you never know what it can amount to.”

Adapted from the iconic Broadway stage musical, the film, which is set before the events of 1939’s The Wizard of Oz, chronicles the friendship between Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), the future Wicked Witch of the West, and her classmate Galinda (Ariana Grande), later known as Glinda the Good.

Bailey’s scene-stealing portrayal of Fiyero Tigelaar, the charismatic Crown Prince of Winkie Country, only reaffirms his status as a Hollywood triple threat. In fact, “Dancing Through Life,” the earworm that serves as his character’s introduction at Shiz University, just cracked Billboard’s Hot 100 charts this week. (“That’s amazing. Do I get a certificate? What happens now?” Bailey quips.)

Bailey began rehearsing for Wicked in 2022 while shooting Fellow Travelers, the groundbreaking Showtime limited series that earned the 36-year-old his first Emmy nomination, and the third season of Bridgerton, the smash-hit Netflix romantic drama that made him a household name. Speaking on a video call from London in early December, the British star reveals that he is in the middle of reprising his role as Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, who is expecting his first child with wife Kate Sharma (Simone Ashley).

“There’s such an important relationship with the [Bridgerton] bros that has been developed over the series. Season four is going to be Luke [Thompson] and Yerin [Ha] being absolutely extraordinary, and there’s a whole plethora of new characters coming in,” Bailey says. “It’s so nice to come back, and it’s about celebrating the romance stories we’ve had and digging into the ones that are starting.”

Patience will have to be a virtue for Wicked and Bridgerton fans alike; the second half of the former, which Bailey coyly describes as “rich, bruising and hopeful,” will premiere next November, while the latter will debut in 2026.

How did you think about building your own interpretation of Fiyero?

The starting point was “Dancing Through Life.” He creates chaos around him, like he does in that song, because he’s got to match the chaos that’s going on inside. The challenge that I felt was the trope of a cool caddish prince. He’s deeply unnerved by stillness and adhering to rules and structure. That is probably a sign of someone who’s never really experienced love. When you see someone causing that sort of disturbance, it’s usually because they’ve never felt seen. An organizational psychologist, Adam Grant, sent me a message saying, “It’s a masterful portrayal of superficiality masking depth.” Out of all the things I’ve heard, that is the thing I’m going to get printed on a T-shirt.

The Shiz library scene was inspired by the work of Fred Astaire in Royal Wedding. What did you want to convey in those moments?

Fiyero has to come in and change the physical language and the emotional landscape of that school in one number. His fluidity, ease, and elasticity speak to his ability to maneuver and avoid. He’s quite avoidant. He has these bright, shining moments with everyone but never really allows the other person to land it with him. For those who understand the physical language of Fiyero, there are many Easter eggs and nods to what happens to him later in the story.

Fiyero is at the center of a love triangle between Elphaba and Galinda. What do you think he sees in each of them?

The brilliant thing about the film is that these slightly trivial tropes mask extraordinarily deep and shifting understandings of social experiences. The superficiality, the privilege, and the sense of easy chemistry make sense with Glinda. But I feel like he’s yearning for something more, and, as Elphaba sees, he’s unhappy and depressed. Fiyero and Elphaba can click in terms of the way they sing, dance, and move together. Elphaba has a calming presence on Fiyero and allows him to be himself. It’s a real privilege to meet someone who sees you for who you really are.

Are there any songs from the second Wicked movie you are most excited about?

“No Good Deed”—I cannot wait to see that come together. And “Thank Goodness”—it’s just such an incredibly operatic, Wagnerian opening. We know how brilliant the girls are, and I’m so excited to see the tonal shift that will inevitably happen to get to the end of the story.

You’ve been leveraging the success of projects with massive, global appeal (Bridgerton, Wicked, the next Jurassic World) to return to the theater (like your next role in Richard II).How have you been balancing these big tentpole franchises with projects that feel more niche and intimate?

I always lead with joy, and I’ve never accepted a job cynically. It goes back to this instinct—it feels like romance—where you have butterflies in your stomach and clarity of thought. I go back to the stage because I want to get better—and I want to be the best I can be. The best performances I’ve ever given on screen have been directly after coming off stage, where you hone your craft every single night. It’s brilliant, joyful, academic, and exhausting.

I’ve read more scripts in the last four years than probably in 20 years of working. It’s amazing to get sent scripts that you’re like, “This is absolutely brilliant. It’s not quite right for me, but I wonder if I can help that get made.” I’ve got a producer's hat that’s been popped on a few times in the last year, and I’m sure it’ll be coming out to play soon.

I want to keep working until something like Fellow Travelers isn’t seen as niche. We’re only on this planet for a short time, but if Fellow Travelers can be a mainstream show by the time I’ve finished my innings, I’d be very happy.

The last time Bridgerton viewers saw Anthony and Kate, they were on their way to India to meet with Kate’s family. Now that those characters are married, what are some of the new layers you’ve found in their relationship?

Anthony and Kate are these two planets that have always been in orbit of each other, and they finally come together. But then, what is life beyond [their courtship]? What’s so interesting about Anthony and what I so enjoyed in his season one arc is his relationship with duty and the power that he wielded over Daphne and his family, the isolation that he felt, and the anger that ensues because of [the passing of] his father.

I always said that you want Anthony to smile, and he does with Kate; he’s found his soulmate. In season three, they have that playfulness and, for the first time, they disregard anything that’s going on around them. They were the heart of every bit of drama and complication and, my God, how dramatic it was! Now suddenly, they’re having the time of their life, getting to play games again. They’re having a baby—everything they’ve ever wanted. What’s brilliant is to see how there are elements of yourself that you can’t grow out of. So, maybe, we’ll see hints of Anthony from season one.

Source

#jonathan bailey #jonny bailey #interviews #interviews:2024 #w magazine interview wicked #w magazine #max gao #wicked #bridgerton #NEW!

100 notes · View notes

necrodette · 30 days ago

Text

TomeWeave art by the absolutely incredible @nikoadmeliora! Go check out their art!

While I'm currently working on the fanfiction of Odette's story pre-BG3 (which leads into the game's events), I had some brainworms that I wanted to sprinkle to my fellow Galemancers out there.

Brace thyselves for a very long, very random assortment of lore and romance between my Tav, Odette Tavelyen, and Gale Dekarios (lovingly referred to as TomeWeave).

Spoilers & personal headcanons for BG3 romance with Gale below!

◇ While Odette was attracted to Gale initially, she misunderstood his attempts to prove his worth/value to the party as him being another pompous wizard, and worried that he may be too fond of his own voice without the true mastery of the Weave to validate his claims (since his magic was a bit unpredictable at times with the orb acting up).

◇ Due to this ignorant misconception, Odette was sometimes annoyed by Gale's remarks (like when he's publicly describing his previous relationship with Mystra or when he's unintentionally, overly thorough in explaining his magical prowess). She was never mean or cruel because that isn't in her nature, but she would certainly be on edge around him or would reply with a witty retort or two.

◇This changes during the Act 1 romance scene. In my headcanon, it happens the night that the party frees the Emerald Grove, and there is a celebration in camp all night. After Odette gives an awkward speech to the group (she's a librarian, not accustomed to being the motivational hero of the day) and makes her rounds through the party, Gale gives her a gift: one of a pair of identical blue journals (picked up from the vendor in the Grove). Gale and Odette bespell the journals to communicate with one another, channeling their magics together and connecting through the Weave. It is intimate, honest, unsuspecting. She feels the warmth of his affections for her and she realizes that she had been misjudging his actions.

And yes, the other party members will write in the journals from time to time, and yesssss I spent too much time picking handwriting style fonts for every party member

◇ Before Gale reveals his surname in Act 3, Odette makes a game out of trying to guess it. She'll think of some random noble family or one she'd guessed based on historical names in the region and ask him - sometimes in the most inopportune of times, such as mid-combat or when they're trying to go to sleep.

◇ Odette actually met Tara well before Act 3. She didn't understand the connection to Gale at the time and wouldn't for a while, but...this requires context, so bear with me:

◇ As an Avowed Adjutant in Candlekeep Library (pre-BG3 game events), Odette was often working with Seekers of knowledge who came to the library offering their price of admission: an original work that doesn't already exist within Candlekeep's walls. If their submitted work was not accepted, they could not gain entry within the library and would be turned away.

◇ For years, Gale had requested entry to Candlekeep through submissions of his own poetry and journals, thinking that his experiences as Mystra's Chosen would elevate his works and would certainly be accepted. But they weren't, because works of Elminster's personal accounts already existed in the library that were too similar to Gale's, and so Gale was turned away multiple times (mostly via letters, since it is quite the long trip from Waterdeep to Candlekeep).

◇ But after he was cast out of Mystra's favor and corrupted by the Netherese Orb, Tara took matters into her own paws. She was determined to find a solution to Gale's predicament with the orb, so she took a collection of the recent works he'd made in his grief and regret - mournful musings of a man utterly abandoned by his former lover, his goddess, and the knowledge of his impending doom as penalty for his hubris. Finally, his (unknowing) acceptance to the library (through Tara) was obtained.

◇ It's a temporary acceptance into the library (five days instead of the normal tenday) by offering Gale's journals anonymously and also with the condition that the original work could not be submitted: the Scribes of Candlekeep would need to copy the journals contents while she was there, but had to take it back with her. This condition was accepted!

◇ Odette was elected to assist Tara with her research, which included many sleepless nights of intense research and several early morning teas together. During the five days that Tara was allowed entry, Tara only ever referred to Gale as her esteemed friend or dearest colleague, so Odette never knew who Gale was before meeting him post-tadpoling.

◇ And it was during Tara's last day that she discovered how to temporarily appease the orb via intermittent Weave consumption. She hurriedly said her goodbyes and left the library to tend to personal matters. Odette was a little sad to see her go as Tara's company was quite comfortable and very entertaining.

◇ In Act 1, when Gale (gets on one knee like a gentlemen omg??) opens his mind to Odette to show her truth about the Netherese Orb in his chest, she realizes that the "cat" he's mistakenly mentioned (he's also said 'tressym' before, too, so Odette actually spends a while thinking he had both) before must have been Tara.

◇ Odette doesn't tell him that she knew out of fear that he would be upset that Tara had taken his most personal thoughts and feelings (in the journals she used to gain entry to the library) without his consent (plus, it helped him in the end anyway, right?) And, as a follower of Deneir, once she's confided in, she is sworn to uphold the secrecy to avoid her God's wrath.

◇ So in Act 3, when the party happens upon Tara on the roof of the Temple of Ilmater, not only does Tara already know and has a warm relationship with her, but she also makes Odette lose "the game" of guessing Gale's surname!

130 notes · View notes

ms-snape · 5 months ago

Note

I got you 😀 I hope i am not the only one who send you requests.

Daddy snape x daughter reader (maybe preschool age) He is home alone with her. Her mother/snape wife is somewhere out. She start asking quentions about her mom, how they met, how much they love eachother, how she was born etc. Sev is little bit confused and dont know how to response.

Title: The Magic Of being A parent

Warning: none just pure fluff, platonic relationship

Word count: 2000+

A/N: Sorry took me pretty long to write it, it's cause school just started for me and I was pretty busy lately, I spent half of the week end dowing homawordks and the other half writing this, so I hope u'll like it even though it's not so good in my opinion. <3

(y/d/n= your daughter's name)

Masterlist

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the grounds, its rays filtering through the tall, ancient trees. Inside the walls of the house , the air was pleasantly cool, a comforting contrast to the warmth outside. Severus Snape sat in the dimly lit living room, a tome of Potions theory splayed open on his lap. The only sound was the soft rustle of parchment as he turned a page, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Suddenly, a high-pitched giggle broke the silence, echoing off the stone walls.

“Daddy, can we play now?” A small figure bounded into the room, her dark hair bouncing with each enthusiastic step. Y/D/N, a bright-eyed five-year-old, was a bundle of energy, her small hands tugging at her father’s robes.

Severus looked up, his expression shifting from one of studious focus to mild bewilderment. “I suppose so,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly, a stark contrast to the exuberance of his daughter.

“Yay!” She clapped her hands together, the sound ringing like tiny bells. “Can we play with the toys? The ones with the wizards and the dragons?”

He sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Very well. But keep the noise to a minimum. I have much to think about.”

“Okay!” She hopped onto the floor, her little feet padding against the cold stone as she raced to the toy chest. The lid creaked open with a loud crack, and Y/D/N began to rummage through the colorful assortment of magical figurines.

“What’s this one?” she asked, holding up a small dragon, its scales shimmering in the dim light. “Can it breathe fire?”

“Only in a child’s imagination,” Severus replied, watching as she cradled the toy against her chest, her eyes wide with wonder.

After a moment, she looked up, her expression shifting from playful to serious. “Daddy, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he muttered, preparing himself for the barrage of questions he knew would follow.

“Where’s Mommy?” Her voice was soft, tinged with a hint of confusion.

Severus paused, the question hanging in the air like a delicate spider’s web. “She went to a meeting,” he replied, his tone steady but his heart tightening at the thought of his wife being away.

“Is she coming back soon?” Y/D/N's brow furrowed as she tilted her head, her innocence shining through her concern.

“Yes, she will return shortly,” he assured her, though he could not help but feel the weight of his words. “You don't need to worry.”

Y/D/N nodded, but her curiosity was not so easily quelled. “How did you and Mommy meet?”

Severus raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the depth of her question. “Well, it was a long time ago…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “We met at Hogwarts, during our time as students.”

“Students?” She giggled again, the sound light and airy. “But you’re a teacher! Are you a student too?”

“Not anymore,” he clarified, trying to suppress a smirk at her logic. “I was a student long before you were born. Your mother was my classmate.”

“Did you like her then?” Y/D/N asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Severus shifted in his chair, the question stirring a mix of emotions within him. “At first, I did not regard her as anything more than a fellow student,” he admitted, recalling their early days in the Potions classroom. “But over time, I grew to admire her intelligence and strength.”

Y/D/N’s face lit up, her small fingers fiddling with the dragon toy. “Did you tell her? Did you say, ‘I like you' to mommy?” She giggled, the innocent suggestion causing Severus to chuckle softly.

“I was not as brave as you might think,” he replied, his tone laced with a hint of nostalgia. “It took me a considerable time before I found the courage to express my feelings.”

“Courage?” Y/D/N echoed, her brows knitting together as she struggled with the word. “What’s that mean?”

“It means the ability to do something that frightens you,” he explained, leaning forward slightly, intrigued by her earnestness. “Like when you stand up to mean people or try something new.”

Her eyes widened, a mixture of awe and determination. “So, was it scary to tell Mommy you liked her?”

“Very much so,” Severus admitted, recalling the nervousness that had gripped him that day. “But I was fortunate. She felt the same way.”

“Did you kiss?” Y/D/N’s voice was a whisper now, as if the very notion of such affection was sacred.

Severus felt a warmth in his chest at the thought. “Yes... Indeed, We shared a brief embrace. It was… memorable.”

“Memorable!” She squealed, bouncing on the tips of her toes. “Like when I'll got my first wand? Or When I'll go to Hogwarts? Will that be memorable too daddy?”

“Yes,Precisely,” he said, amused at her ability to draw connections. But then, she pivoted once more, her expression shifting to something more serious.

“Do you love Mommy?”

The question hung in the air, thick with the weight of sincerity. Severus’s heart softened as he considered his answer. “More than I can express,” he replied earnestly. “Love is not merely a word; it is a commitment, a promise to stand by one another.”

“Love is a promise?” Y/D/N asked, her eyes wide.

“Exactly,” he nodded, his tone firm. “A promise to support and care for one another, no matter the circumstances.”

She pondered this, her small fingers tracing the edges of the dragon toy. “So, if I make a promise to you, I have to keep it?”

“Yes, and it is important that you do,” Severus affirmed, appreciating her earnestness. “A promise is a bond that should not be broken.”

“Okay!” She beamed, her enthusiasm infectious. “I promise to help you with your potions! Even the stinky ones!”

Severus chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I appreciate your willingness, but I fear you may not enjoy some of the more pungent ingredients, you're too young dear.”

“But stinky potions are fun!” Y/D/N declared, her voice rising with excitement. “Like the one that makes you smell like a skunk! Can you make that one, Daddy?”

“I assure you, I have no desire to create such a potion,” he replied, his lips curving into a smile. “However, I can demonstrate a few simpler ones. Perhaps a calming draught? It would help you relax.”

“Calming draught?” Her brows knitted again. “What’s that?”

“A potion that can soothe anxious feelings,” he explained, enjoying the way her face lit up with interest. “It can help ease a troubled mind.”

“Like when I feel scared at night?” Y/D/N’s voice was small, and in her eyes, Severus saw a flicker of vulnerability.

“Exactly,” he said gently. “It can help you feel safe and secure.”

She nodded, her little brow furrowed in thought. “Can you make it for me, Daddy? So I won’t be scared?”

Severus felt a pang in his chest at the innocence of her request. “I can teach you how to brew it, if you like. It is quite simple, really.”

“Yay! I want to learn!” She jumped up, her excitement bubbling over. “Can we do it now? Please?”

He glanced at the tome still resting on his lap, the text blurring into the background as he watched his daughter. “Very well. Let us gather the ingredients.”

“Yay!” She clapped her hands again, her laughter ringing through the room like music.

As they prepared for their impromptu potions room, Severus found himself surprisingly at ease. Y/D/N’s energy was infectious; she darted around the kitchen, pulling out various jars and containers, her small hands working with a determination that reminded him of her mother.

“Do we need the shiny leaf?” she asked, holding up a jar filled with dried herbs, the sunlight catching the contents and casting little rainbows on the wall.

“Indeed, that is an essential ingredient,” he replied, stepping closer. “But be careful not to spill any.”

“I won’t!” She grinned, carefully measuring out a pinch with exaggerated concentration. “Like this?”

“Precisely,” Severus said, watching her with a mix of pride and amusement. It was moments like these that made the weight of his responsibilities feel lighter, moments that reminded him of the joy in family and the simple act of being together.

As the two of them worked side by side, Y/D/N began to chatter again, her curiosity unquenchable. “Daddy, how did you and Mommy get together? Was it like a fairy tale?”

“A fairy tale?” The notion made him chuckle. “Not quite. Our story is filled with its own challenges and struggles.”

“Like dragons?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Not exactly,” he corrected gently. “More like obstacles that we had to overcome together. But through it all, we found our way to one another.”

“Was it scary?” she pressed on, her small hands busy mixing the ingredients.

“Sometimes,” he admitted, reminiscing about the dark days during the first Wizarding War, when uncertainty hung over them like a storm cloud. “But love has a way of guiding us through even the most difficult of times.”

“Daddy, Do you think I can find love too?” Y/D/N asked suddenly, her expression earnest, as if the weight of the world rested on her small shoulders.

Severus paused, taken aback by the intensity of her question. “One day, when you are older, you will understand love in your own way,” he replied slowly. “But for now, focus on the love that surrounds you—like the love of family and friends.”

“Like the love from you and Mommy?” she beamed, her face lighting up at the thought.

“Yes,” he said simply, his heart swelling with affection. “And always remember that love takes time to grow.”

“Okay! I’ll wait!” Y/D/N declared, her enthusiasm unwavering. “But I still want to be a dragon when I grow up!”

“A dragon?” Severus feigned surprise, raising an eyebrow. “And how do you propose to achieve that?”

“By learning magic!” she exclaimed, her laughter infectious. “And maybe getting a shiny tail!”

“Ah, yes. A shiny tail would certainly be impressive,” he replied, allowing himself to get swept up in her imagination.

As the potion bubbled gently on the stove, the air filled with the warm, earthy scent of herbs, creating an atmosphere that was both comforting and familiar. Severus watched Y/D/N as she danced around the kitchen, her laughter echoing off the walls, and for a moment, it was as if the world outside ceased to exist.

“What’s your favorite thing about Mommy?” Y/D/N asked, her tone suddenly serious again.

Severus considered her question carefully, his mind drifting to the countless moments they had shared. “Her kindness,” he finally said. “She has a way of seeing the best in others, even when they cannot see it themselves.”

“Like you?” Y/D/N’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Daddy, you’re the best! I love you!”

His heart warmed at her declaration, and he felt a softness wash over him. “I love you too, my dear,” he replied, his voice low and sincere.

“Can we make a potion for Mommy when she gets home?” Y/D/N asked, her excitement bubbling over once more.

“Of course,” Severus agreed, his heart swelling with affection. “We will create something special for her.”

“Yay! A surprise!” She clapped her hands, her giggles filling the room with joy.

As they finished brewing the calming draught, the atmosphere shifted, a sense of magic weaving through the air. The bond between father and daughter deepened, each shared laugh and every curious question drawing them closer together.

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed from the entrance hall. Y/D/N’s eyes widened, and she paused mid-giggle. “Is that Mommy?”

Severus nodded, a smile creeping onto his face. “It seems she is back.”

“Yay! Let’s surprise her!” Y/D/N dashed toward the door, her laughter trailing behind her like a melody.

Severus followed at a more measured pace, allowing the warmth of the moment to envelop him. As Y/D/N flung open the door, her face lit up with joy.

“Mommy!” she squealed, launching herself into Y/N’s arms.

Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling with love as she enveloped their daughter in a warm embrace. “I missed you, sweetheart!”

Severus stood back, watching the scene unfold with a softness in his heart. The worries of the world outside faded into the background, eclipsed by the love radiating from his family.

“Did you have fun with Dad?” Y/N asked, her gaze turning to him.

“Yeah! We made potions! And I asked him about love!” Y/D/N exclaimed, her words tumbling over one another in excitement.

Severus raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Oh? And what did you learn?”

“Daddy said that love is like a promise!” she declared, her voice ringing with certainty.

Y/N turned to Severus, her expression a mix of amusement and pride. “I see you’ve been busy,” she said, a smile dancing on her lips.

“Indeed,” Severus replied, a hint of bashfulness creeping into his voice. “It seems I have been outmatched by her boundless curiosity.”

Y/N chuckled, wrapping an arm around Y/D/N. “That’s the magic of being a parent,” she said warmly. “You never know what you’ll discover.”

As they settled into a cozy evening together, the air filled with laughter and stories, Severus felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. In this moment, surrounded by his family, he understood that love was not just a promise; it was the very essence of their lives together.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow through the windows, Severus Snape knew that no matter the challenges they faced, their love would always guide them home.

114 notes · View notes

shadovvheart · 3 months ago

Text

new inky just dropped ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Her name is Lorraine, she's an innovator and reformer, a science wizard enchanter with an interest in inventing new practical ways of applying magic for everyday use to "serve man". A devoted andrastian with some religious trauma (tm) who thinks the circle institution under the chantry is outdated and needs to be changed.

She's reserved, observant, analytical, can be a bit awkward. Has trust issues, and forming relationships doesn't come easy for her, especially with non-mages. Kind of an "aloof, autistic scientist who can appear rude but is determined to improve the world with their inventions" archetype.

More ramblings under the cut 👇🏻

• Lorraine's fam were extremely pro-templar and raised their kids to be devout to the chantry. Magic was considered a dangerous burden, something to be hidden and kept away from regular people, so Lori has some internalised shame due to being a mage. Though she eventually does come to a realisation that her parents' views were unjust and that she shouldn't feel this way, and that her magic is a gift rather than a disgrace. Still, she does her best to put her magic to good use and invent new ways of aiding people through it, in part as a way to prove herself to the world. She believes mages should be allowed to contribute more to society, have professions and hobbies and more safe spaces to experiment with their gift.

• Before discovering her love for academic study and experiments, Lorraine wanted to be a templar. As the youngest child in her family with close ties to the chantry, she couldn't think of anything more fitting as she didn't want to be a cleric, and the idea of being a knight in shiny armour was compelling for a kid. Her magic manifested when she was 11 years old in the dead of the night when the estate was sound asleep. Waking up from a nightmare, she found herself surrounded by fire. She doesn't have much memory from what happened that night, only that she was dragged away by the templars from her home.

• The fire she caused was devastating to the estate, and Lorraine's parents and siblings didn't survive the night. She knows this, but due to the trauma caused suppressed her memories about what really happened. For many years being stuck in the circle she believed her family were so disappointed with her being a mage that they completely turned away from her, refusing to even write letters. That grew some serious resentment and shame inside of her. Her then mentor, Lydia, decided to spare the child more suffering and encouraged her delusions.

• Lydia was like a mother to Lorraine, and while she didn't have many friends at the circle, she considered her fellow mages to be her new family. She's often distrusting and cautious of non-mages, having a hard time believing that they can be accepting and caring about her - a mage - without having some ulterior motive. During the inquisition she bonds fastest with her mage companions. I also see her being closer to Dagna than any other non-mage companion due to their shared interests and passions.

• Eventually, when Lori received the vigil of trust and was allowed to make trips outside of the circle, Lydia told her the truth about the night when she was taken to the circle and encouraged her to reach out to her more distant relatives. Lorraine didn't see the point, as none of those relatives chose to reach out to her all these years either.

• Unlocking those memories for her was...ugly. There's still some unresolved trauma that she tries to learn how to live with. Naturally, the Nightmare demon in here lies the abyss quest takes full advantage of that because Drama. :3c

• I reckon Lorraine is interested in studying lyrium and finding ways for both mages and non-mages to work with it safely. She's also intrigued by the fade and the veil, so naturally she chooses the new, "experimental" fade rift magic later in the game. Apart from rift magic, she often opts for the frost element and spirit schools. She believes people shouldn't shy away from more sophisticated enchantments and other forms of magical crafts, taking inspiration from Tevinter and how they implement magical solutions to everyday problems.

• She would probably invent a magical fire alarm system enchantments to be installed in people's homes.

• While she's the kind of a person who would rather sit in a lab/study all day without interacting with a single living soul, she at one point got frustrated enough with her ideas being denied by the first enchanter that she decided to get into politics and push for reforms that would allow her to practice magic more freely.

• Speaking of politics, Lorraine spent most of her circle life in the aequitarian camp that generally tries to follow the chantry law. She always abided by the rule that magic should serve man in ethical ways, but also considered the system to be rather old-fashioned and limiting. She wrote drafts of reform programs detailing a secure and steady transition in which the circle would gradually provide more freedoms to mages, eventually letting mages govern themselves with as little chantry supervision as possible. When the mage rebellion started and fraternities split into two sides, Lorraine begrudgingly sided with the libertarians and supported the full separation from the chantry.

• Anyway, she has some serious personal issues but doesn't like letting it show and stays put. She's very focused on her work, determined and efficient, and is self aware enough to not take herself too seriously, so while she's not talkative and prefers to keep to herself, she doesn't sulk or dwell on her traumas, and tries to be friendly and accommodating to others. Although from her perspective, that equals to just being patient enough not to tell others to go fuck themselves fifteen seconds into the conversation.

Etc etc I think i could go on but I'm yet to complete a full playthrough with her and this is already a lot so maybe I'll yap about Lori more sometime later 🙈

#oc: lorraine trevelyan #dunno if i should call her Lori or Reina for short. i like both #Reina is more regal and cool-sounding but maybe that's why i prefer a simple and cute Lori for now 🤔#anyway I don't usually yap this much about my ocs here so this is a LOT but i just felt like going #so. enjoy #my ocs #dragon age #inquisitor trevelyan

87 notes · View notes

cosmerelists · 3 months ago

Text

Cosmere Characters Meet Non-Cosmere Sanderson Characters

As requested by anon. :)

Namely, Sanderson characters from non-Cosmere works I've actually read, aka Skyward and Frugal Wizard.

1. Ryan Chu (Frugal Wizard) and Amaram (Stormlight)

Ryan: What DOES Sanderson have against handsome, highly competent people? Amaram: I don't know. He just hates us. Ryan: Are we too good at our jobs? Amaram: Are we too handsome? Ryan: Too good with the ladies? Amaram: Too effective in battle? Ryan: Is it that we maybe slightly screw over his precious main character while working on something greater? Amaram: He's SUCH an unforgiving author.

2. Jorgen & Spensa (Skyward) and Vin & Elend (Mistborn)

Vin (narrowing her eyes at Jorgen): You look like a man from a highly wealthy, politically influential background who has a strained relationship with his father, especially after you fall in love with a badass, combative woman from the "wrong" side of society who has special powers needed to save the day. Spensa (narrowing her eyes at Vin): And I'm getting the sense that you had to fight really hard for everything in your life but never gave up, and that you didn't like your man initially because he seemed wealthy and stuck up but eventually you realized that he matched your freak pretty exactly. Jorgen: Oh wow, we definitely need to set up a double date! Elend: Did we just become best friends?

3. Cobb (Skyward) and Harmony (Mistborn)

Cobb: ...and it's honestly horrible, constantly loading children into that munitions chamber to be spent into empty shells. Harmony: I know what you mean. Every time I cannot act, I have to call upon Wax to be my gun once again. Cobb: And then they go out... Harmony: And then he goes out... Cobb: And they die! Harmony: And he kills tons of people! Cobb: ... Harmony: ... Cobb: I think you got your metaphor backwards there, friend. Harmony: I think it's you.

4. John (Frugal Wizard) and Painter (Yumi)

John: [holds out his hand for a fist bump] John: Fellow loser protagonist? My man. Painter: I-I'M NOT FIST BUMPING TO THAT

5. Kimmalyn (Skyward) and Adolin (Stormlight)

Adolin: It can be tough to be the most emotionally intelligent person in the cast, huh? Kimmalyn: Tough? I dunno about that! I like being able to help my friends! Adolin: I mean, me too! Adolin: But we're both so friendly and mostly upbeat that I think people sometimes forget we have our own problems. Kimmalyn: Yeah...I missed some shots that haunted me for a long time... Adolin: And I stabbed a guy through the eye in an alley. Kimmalyn: Well, bless your stars!

6. Sefawynn (Frugal Wizard) and Demoux (Mistborn/Stormlight)

Demoux: Off-worlders giving you a hard time? Sefawynn: I'm sorry? Demoux: People from other worlds? Coming to your planet and messing everything up? Sound familiar? Sefawynn: My husband is from another world. Sefawynn: I would not say that he "messed things up." He helped save us. Demoux: [Crumping up a Seventeenth Shard pamphlet in frustration] How great for you.

7. Spensa (Skyward) and Jasnah (Stormlight Archive)

Jasnah: So these "Cytonic" abilities of yours give you access to the "Nowhere." Spensa: That's right. Why? Jasnah: Which is some kind of extra-dimensional space that exists alongside your "normal" space where time is strange and timeless creatures exist? Spensa: The Delvers, yeah. Jasnah: You are basically a sci-fi Eslecaller. Spensa: ... Spensa: A what?

8. M-Bot (Skyward) and Nightblood (Warbreaker/Stormlight)

M-Bot: Hiiii! Nightblood: Hello!!! M-Bot: I can already tell that you're a kindred spirit. Nightblood: Yeah!! M-Bot: Do you want to read my ongoing work "The Greater Argument for Human Origination Chaos" (GAFHOC)? Nightblood: Well I don't think I can read, but you can tell me about? M-Bot: My main thesis is that "humans are weird." Nightblood: ...And evil? M-Bot: No, gotta go with "weird." Weird creatures, humans. Nice. Squishy sometimes. But weird. Nightblood: Mmmm...I think you're missing the "evil" part. Nightblood: I was created to destroy evil, you know! M-Bot: I was created to document mushrooms! Maybe! Nightblood: Does the "M" stand for Mushrooms? M-Bot: Yes! Or possibly "massacre" according to Spensa. Nightblood: Ooooh, I like "massacre." Massacre is cooler than mushrooms! M-Bot: Uh, you haven't seen my very cool mushrooms. Nightblood: Well, let's see them. M-Bot: I love having a friend!

#cosmere #cosmerelists #skyward #frugal wizard #Ryan Chu #Amaram #M-Bot #Nightblood #Spensa #Jorgen #Vin #Elend #Kimmalyn #Adolin #Matthew Cobb #Harmony #Jasnah #Demoux #John West #Painter

67 notes · View notes

grandmother-goblin · 11 months ago

Text

Enough Time for Us - Part 1

AO3 - Masterlist

Summary: After surviving a daring rescue of several tieflings from Moonrise Towers, you realize just how short your time might be. Between the Absolute, the tadpoles, and the Shadow Curse, you don't want to waste a moment. Although Wyll had expressed his desires for an old-fashioned courtship, you're worried you won't be able to do everything you wanted with him before time runs out.

Relationships: Wyll x Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 4.3k

Chapter Tags: Kissing, thigh-riding, dry-humping, a bit of navigating a new relationship.

“You should have seen them, Alfira!” Lakrissa said far too loudly. She clumsily set her empty goblet of wine down on the table you shared with her, Alfira, and Wyll. “You’re going to have to write a song about this. Maybe two. I don’t think all of their heroics could fit into just one.”

The light from the glowing hearth in the middle of Last Light Inn gave Lakrissa a mischievous glint to her eyes that told you everything you needed to know: she was trying to embarrass you.

Oh, you would get her back for this. You weren’t sure how, but you would.

Sure, you rescued Lakrissa (along with several other tieflings and some Ironhand gnomes) from the bowels of Moonrise Towers — but she didn’t need to sing your praises to everyone who would listen.

At first you thought she was just being sweet, if not overly appreciative. But now? Now you knew she was just messing with you.

Or she was just repeating herself because she was drunk. It really could have been either, considering that most certainly was not her first glass of wine.

Without taking her eyes off of Alfira, Lakrissa gestured to you grandly, like she was showing off a prized work of art. “That one there took down the Warden herself,” she said with faux reverence. “Knocked her right on her ass.”

You shook your head as heat rose to your face.

Even though Lakrissa was just having fun, you wished she would knock it off. Or at the very least, turn her attention to someone who was equally responsible for her rescue. Like Karlach, who was chatting away with Jaheira over a mug of ale alongside Lae’zel and Astarion. Or Gale, who also played a crucial role in the escape plan, was sitting at the bar with Rolan, Cal, and Lia — presumably thrilled to have a fellow wizard to converse with.

Perhaps she could gush about Wyll’s part in the Moonrise jailbreak. Out of everyone, he was the most accustomed to receiving all sorts of praise as the Blade of Frontiers.

But for better or for worse, Lakrissa’s attention was locked on to you. There wasn’t much you could do about it, so you decided it was easiest just to indulge her. At least a little bit.

Wyll’s slid closer to you on the bench you shared and wrapped his arm around your waist. “I’m sad that I missed that one,” he said, gently tucking you against his side. “After the way the Warden spoke to you, I wanted to get a few hits in myself.”

You hummed appreciatively, breathing in the scent of his cologne. It was something like amber and allspice, and so uniquely him that the smell alone filled you with warmth. “I still can’t believe you called her a bitch.”

Lakrissa choked down a mouthful of wine. “The Blade of Frontiers called the Warden a bitch?”

“Not to her face,” Wyll quickly corrected, holding his palm up as if to block the accusation. “Not that I wouldn’t have.”

“She still heard you,” you added.

Wyll took a drink from his mug of ale and innocently averted his gaze. “I fail to see how that’s my problem.”

A giggle bubbled in your chest, but you swallowed it down with a smile. You snuggled closer to Wyll, letting your hand rest just above his knee as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

It had been over a week since you two had officially become a couple, yet could still hardly believe it.

Wyll Ravengard, the Blade of Frontiers, the son of a Grand Duke — all yours.

You had first kissed him at a party the tiefling refugees had thrown a few weeks ago. You would never forget the electricity that sparked between you the moment his lips brushed against yours. How your heart hammered in your chest or how his hands felt on your hips.

How you never wanted that moment to end.

But Wyll was a gentleman.

He kept things chaste despite how you had wanted to throw yourself at him like a heroine on the cover of a romantic novel.

Then there was the night he had asked you to dance with him. Everything had been so proper between you two in the time between your kiss and that night that his invitation honestly caught you off guard. You weren’t even quite sure what he was wanting out of the dance — just some friendly fun or something more?

But his intentions were made clear soon enough.

You could see the lust burning in his eye as you circled around each other. It was so intense, you could have melted under his gaze if he weren’t holding you steady.

When he pulled you in for a kiss, that heat turned from simmering embers to an inferno. A fire that burnt through Wyll’s restraint, turning his kisses from sweet to passionate and his touch from a gentle caress to a firm embrace.

Heat built in your core when his thigh had pushed between your legs. The subtle, almost imperceptible, roll of his hips and his hands tangling in your hair was enough to drive you mad.

He wanted you. You knew, at that very moment, he wanted more than just a dance and a goodnight kiss.

Yet, he still pulled away, smothering the flame.

All he had to do was say the word, and you would have been in his bed that night. He knew that just as well as you did. But he wanted to take things slower.

He wanted to court you properly. Like heroes in those old love stories with ballroom dances and flowers and poetry.

In ordinary circumstances, you would have let him take all the time in the world.

Good men like Wyll were extraordinarily hard to come by. Hells, you had been dreaming of a man like Wyll for years. A man who wanted you for you — not someone who just wanted a roll in the hay.

But your circumstances were far from ordinary.

Beneath the table, well out of view from the two tiefling women across from you, you let your hand coast further up Wyll’s thigh. Just a little bit too high to be considered decent, but not so much that you risked touching him anywhere truly inappropriate for a public setting.

If Wyll had any objections, he didn’t voice them.

In fact, you swore you saw a smirk tug on his lips.

Wyll’s hand slipped beneath the bottom hem of your shirt, the movement smooth as silk. His thumb drew slow, tantalizing circles on your hip as he continued to chat with Lakrissa and Alfira.

Gods, it almost felt unfair. He could turn you into a pile of mush with just a sweet word and simple touch. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought he was teasing you. Tempting you with all the little touches, but never going further.

You wanted him so badly, but you didn’t want to pressure him. He wanted the fairytale romance — he wanted to wait for the perfect moment and for everything to be just right.

But you couldn’t help but worry: what if that moment never came?

What if tomorrow was the day one of you fell to the Shadow Curse? Or to the Absolute? What if the Artefact’s protection wore out or if Vlaakith’s warriors found you?

What if you and Wyll never had that chance with the each other?

Maybe it was selfish, but you wanted to be more intimate with him. Gods, you dreamed of it. There were nights when you and Wyll would share a bedroll, sleeping in one another’s arms and fully clothed, and you ached for something more.

You just weren’t sure how to broach the topic with him. Not since he expressed his own desires regarding your relationship. A fairytale romance, like those told by the bards.

You wished he had been a little more specific about what his desires entailed, if you were being completely honest.

“Have we already finished another bottle?” Alfira’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as she picked up the empty bottle of wine from your side of the table. “Should we get another, or call it night?”

Without waiting for an answer, Lakrissa stood up and placed both hands on the table as she peered over Wyll’s horns. “Hey Mirkon,” she called toward the bar in the back of the room. “I’ll give you five silver to bring us another bottle of red.”

The small tiefling boy popped his head up over the lip of the countertop. “Just gave out the last bottle of red — gotta go to the cellar to get more. We got whiskey though!”

Lakrissa’s eyes lit up at the mention of whiskey. “Bring the bottle of whiskey then.”

“The whole bottle?” Mirkon squeaked.

“Lakrissa,” Alfira warned. “Remember what happened last time you mixed whiskey and wine.”

“I remember I had fun,” she replied and gestured for Mirkon to bring the bottle over. “Don’t need to remember much else.”

You shook your head, but you couldn’t help but smile. Lakrissa might be in for a nasty hangover the next morning, but if anyone deserved a couple of drinks, she did. Especially after everything they went through getting out of Moonrise.

“I’m going to bring another crate up before the whole place decides to switch to hard liquor,” you said, giving Wyll’s leg an affectionate squeeze before you got to your feet.

The crates were too large for the kids to carry safely, but you could manage. Besides, it made for a good opportunity to get a breath of fresh air. The longer you sat cuddled up next to Wyll, the greater the temptation to get even closer to him was. Considering “closer” probably meant fighting the temptation to crawl into his lap and straddle him, it was probably for the best to detangle yourself before that happened.

If you didn’t control yourself, you knew you’d be regretting it later when it came time to sleep. You’d be faced with the impossible decision of sleeping in Wyll’s arms or getting some alone time in your tent to deal with your self-inflicted sexual frustration.

Yep, a bit of space was just what you needed.

Before you could get a step away from the table, Wyll said, “I’ll come with you.”

Well, so much for that idea.

Wyll swung his legs around the side of the bench and stood beside you, slipping his arm around you once again. “Two pairs of hands are better than one, and besides — ” he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear, and whispered “ — it looks like Alfira wants a little one-on-one time with Lakrissa.”

“What was that, Mr. Blade of Frontiers?” Lakrissa asked cheekily, cupping her hand to her ear for emphasis. “You best share with the group.”

Wyll laughed and replied, “The only thing I’m sharing is another drink once we get back. I’ll look for another bottle of Esmalter Red while I’m down there.”

Lakrissa tapped her chin in mock consideration as she sat back in her seat. “I’ll accept that as a compromise, I suppose.”

“We’ll be back in a minute,” you said and started toward the front door.

As the chatter and the music faded behind you, Wyll’s hand moved from your waist to your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. When you glanced up at him, he was already smiling down at you with so much love in his gaze that made your heart pick up speed.

Gods, you loved him so much. Even if the romantic aspect of your relationship was relatively new, you knew you wanted to be at Wyll’s side for as long as he would have you. And you hadn’t felt that way about anyone else before.

There was something so special, so incredible, about him that you could hardly put it into words. In so many ways, Wyll was everything you had ever wanted — you wanted to experience the world with him but you didn’t know if that same world would give you time.

Wyll brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of your knuckles. “This hand,” he said with a teasing grin, “was getting a bit adventurous under the table there.”

Pushing aside your thoughts, you blinked up at him innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No?” He pressed another kiss to your hand as you reached the top of the stairs at the side of the building. Without letting go of your hand, he had smoothly positioned you to the side with the railing. “Must have just been my imagination. It has been a little overactive in that regard, as of late.”

“Oh? What sorts of things have you been imagining, Wyll?” you replied knowing full well that he would be far too much of a gentleman to answer if his thoughts aligned with your own.

“You’ll find out,” he said as he helped you down the last step (although you didn’t need the help, the gesture was appreciated). “Just give it time.”

Time.

The one thing that seemed to be running out.

In the space beneath the building, the sounds of water lapping gently against docks echoed off the stone walls. Just a few hours ago, this was the location of a joyous reunion for many — people seeing loved ones they had thought lost over something completely out of their control. If not for the feeling of Wyll’s hand in yours, the whole place felt cold and yawningly empty.

Looking out over the river, you could see that thin border of light that separated you, and the people you cared about, from the Shadow Curse. It was like a singular pillar that held up an entire roof. Without it, everything would come crashing down — no matter how many other support beams were in place.

It all felt so fragile. All it would take is one thing going wrong and… you’d all be lost to the darkness.

Gods, any moment really could be the last, couldn’t it?

Your hand tightened around Wyll’s, as if you could squeeze out a little more hypothetical time with him. That’s all you wanted. Just some time for the two of you to be together without the looming fear of death.

Was that so much to ask?

“Are you feeling alright?” Wyll asked as he opened the door leading down into the cellar and gestured for you to go ahead of him. “You’ve got a bit of a far off look to you.”

There really wasn’t any point in lying to him or in pretending things were fine. Wyll was much better at reading you than most people, which was both a blessing and a curse. He always seemed to know just what you needed, but it also meant you could hardly keep anything from him. While he would never pressure you to talk if you didn’t want to, you didn’t like to leave him in the dark.

You took a few steps down the stairs, staring at the way your hand slid along the railing rather than look at the man above you. You could see his shadow against the wall beside you, the subtle tilt of his head and the curl of his horns. An ominous silhouette to most, but a source of comfort to you.

“I’ve just been thinking a bit about what you said a few nights ago,” you answered, your heart beating in your throat as you slowly continued your descent. “About our relationship, and how you want things to go.”

Behind you, you heard the door gently close against the frame followed by the click of a lock. The stairs creaked under his boots as he took the wooden stairs two steps at a time until he was at your side once more. “This sounds serious.”

You laughed, hoping to ease some of the tension. “It’s nothing serious,” you reassured him. “But it’s still something I wanted to bring up with you.”

“Of course.” There was a hint of nervousness to his voice, but he tried to mask it behind his charming, prince-like smile that could make most people swoon. “I’m always happy to talk.”

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you shuffled around to face him. The glow from a dim fireplace, one that hadn’t been tended to for a while now, glinted off of Wyll’s scarlet red eye as he gazed at you with a mixture of affection and concern.

Though the cellar was warm, you wrapped your arms around yourself as if there was a chill in the air, trying to muster up some courage.

Gods, did you even have to bring this up? You didn’t, right? But he was looking at you expectantly and the longer you waited, the worse your anxiety got and —

“I don’t want to wait,” you blurted out before you could talk yourself out of it.

Wyll’s brow drew together. “Wait for what?”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, looking past him rather than directly into his eye. “To be close to you,” you said, feeling heat rising to your cheeks. “To be intimate. We don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow and I — I want to share that experience with you.”

There. It was out in the open and there was no taking it back. The worst that could happen was that he would turn you down again, right?

For a moment, there was nothing but stale cellar air and the sounds of the crackling fireplace between you two. You could hear footsteps from the taproom overhead counting out the beats of silence.

You swallowed. Gods, why did you have to say anything at all? He was giving you everything you wanted, yet you still wanted more?

Then a soft smile tugged at the corner of Wyll’s lip and a sense of relief coursed through you. The back of his fingers brushed against your cheek in a featherlight touch before he tucked his thumb beneath your chin. He tilted your face up, making it impossible for you to look anywhere but at his gorgeous, mismatched, eyes.

“I want to share that experience with you too,” he said, resting one hand on your hip as he took a single step closer. “Though, I’m of the mind that we will have plenty of time, and plenty of chances, to have that experience.”

Disappointment landed light a heavy weight in your gut, and you averted your gaze.

Well, it was worth a try.

It wasn’t like you could force Wyll to change his stance on such a thing. And it would have been wrong of you to do anything more than simply express your desires.

Still, it didn’t make the disappointment any easier.

“I hope you’re right,” you conceded with a hopeful long convincing smile, not wanting to put any pressure on him.

Wyll sighed and touched his forehead to yours. His horns were cool and hard against your skin and you closed your eyes, just breathing in his scent.

“I still believe in the old tales of love,” he said as his hand moved to your lower back. “And I want to give you the fairytale because that’s what you deserve. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make it our own.”

You blinked and pulled back just far enough to look Wyll in the eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

A rakish grin spread across his face, sending butterflies to your stomach in a flurry. “I’m saying that if you want to be more intimate” — his hand slipped beneath your shirt, his palm warm against the small of your back — “then we can be more intimate.”

Your heart leapt in your chest as a mixture of surprise and giddiness surged through you. Out of all the things you expected him to say, it wasn’t that.

At least, you didn’t expect him to agree so readily.

Swallowing your excitement, you laced your fingers with his. You didn’t want to pressure him, and you didn’t think you were, but you still wanted to check….

“You’re sure?” you asked and pressed your lips to the back of his hand. “I know you have reasons for wanting to wait, and I don’t want you to change your mind just because — ”

A little huff of laughter passed Wyll’s lips. “I’m sure,” he confirmed. “This is our relationship — we make these sorts of decisions together. I’d much rather you talk to me about things like this rather than just quietly go along with what I said.”

He brought his palm to your cheek, carefully cupping your face as if you were something precious. “Besides,” he added, “I’ll admit that part of me was hoping you’d ask me to change my mind.”

Before you could even think of how to respond, Wyll’s lips brushed over yours in a sweet, silky caress. Light and teasing, if not a little playful at first. Taking his sweet time tasting you. The hand on your cheek slipped behind your head, tangling in your hair as he slowly deepened the kiss.

You couldn’t help the soft moan in your throat as he pulled you flush against him. He coaxed your lips apart with his tongue, sending a thrill of warmth through you with each delicate stroke. Looping your arms around his neck, you held yourself steady as you melted into his touch.

Gods, when he kissed you like this, how could you not want more? How could you be expected to keep your desires in check when his lips were as sinful as they were saccharine?

Wyll guided you backward until your back pressed against the cool stone wall of the stairwell, not once breaking his lips away from yours. He cupped your face, tilting your head back as he kissed you as if he could breathe you in.

A muscular thigh nudged between your legs, putting delicious pressure where you had long desired it. Heat rose to your face as you rolled your hips, slowly and subtly rocking against him.

Moving his hands to your hips, he pressed himself against you as he guided your movements on his leg to match his. The rhythm alone was enough to make your core clench with need. His parted lips dragged down the side of your neck as he let you grind against him. You let out a small, pleasured, gasp when he gently sucked and nipped at your skin.

Gods, he had barely begun to touch you and you were already trembling. Your body craved him like no other, and you had contented yourself with fantasies for so long. For him to actually be touching you like this? To be pulling closer instead of pulling back?

It was indescribable.

You brought your lips to his neck, stifling a moan as you kissed the prominent ridges on his throat. His fingers dug into your hips a groan rumbled in his chest. “Those are sensitive,” he said and nibbled at your earlobe.

You sighed as you closed your eyes. “Sensitive how?” you asked distractedly.

Wyll raised his hips, pressing himself against you and fully pinning you to the wall. The hard outline of him prodded your lower stomach. “That kind of sensitive.”

Your cheeks burned as his mouth hungrily returned to yours. No one had ever kissed you the way Wyll did. It was reckless and restrained, passionate and patient. And you wanted nothing more than for that patience and restraint to run out.

At least, just for a little bit.

Tension coiled inside of you as you grinded against him, winding tighter and tighter as he rocked into you. You were so close. Gods, you hadn’t even taken your clothes off and you were going to come.

“Wyll,” you whined against his lips, not knowing quite what you wanted. Did you want him to stop you? Or did you want —

“Come for me,” Wyll rasped, his voice unlike you had ever heard it before. His grasping fingers slid over the curve of your breast as he took your mouth in another consuming kiss.

Your nails dug into his shirt as your movements grew rougher and more erratic. Your breath came in panting gasps as pressure built deep in your core.

Every muscle in your body tightened. Your mouth fell open as you found your release. Your hips moved of their own accord but Wyll’s hands kept you steady as pleasure wracked your body.

“That’s it,” he soothed as you rode out your climax, his voice husky in a way that made your skin prickle.

He removed his leg from between your thighs just as you began to catch your breath. With his hands still on your hips, he kissed the corner of your mouth and then your cheek, his breathing almost as heavy as your own.

“Tomorrow night,” Wyll said softly as pulled away. His eyes locked onto yours, his good eye dark with barely restrained lust. His hands traced your curves and you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.“Give me until tomorrow night, my love,” he said resolutely. “I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”

With that tiny bit of distance between you, you could see a prominent, hard ridge in his trousers. You must have been staring, because Wyll chuckled and cleared his throat, quickly adjusting himself to hide his erection. Well, as much as he could.

You swallowed and licked your lips. “Do you — ”

He smiled at you broadly as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “By the time we pack up these crates, I’ll be all settled down.”

Oh, right. The wine. Lakrissa and Alfira were waiting for them.

But still….

You hooked two fingers around his belt loop and stepped closer. “But what if I want to?”

Wyll cupped your face in his hands and pressed his mouth to yours, chaste and sweet. “Then you’ll have to wait until tomorrow night.”

---

Author's Note: This was meant to be like a 2k word oneshot and it turned into a whole thing. I'm still relatively new to writing in second person POV, so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

#wyll ravengard #x reader #wyll #wyll x reader #wyll smut #wyll fanfic

228 notes · View notes

madhatterbri · 1 year ago

Text

Broken | B.Z.

Summary: Blaise wants to hide your relationship. You confront him about it.

"Aren't you going to invite me to Slug's Christmas party? I hear you can invite someone not in the club," you questioned with excitement. Professor Slughorn only invited the shining stars in the Wizarding World. Your family blacklisted you from ever being considered. After the break in at the Ministry of Magic last year, your father was arrested for aiding Lord Voldemort.

"No," Blaise answered while never looking up from his book. He dipped his quill in the ink jar and continued to write notes.

"Oh. Are you not going?" you pushed the Slughorn party a little further. Something didn't sit right with you. He was normally short but this was a bit much. Your stomach sank. Did he invite another witch?

"I will be attending alone,"

"Why won't you invite me? This would be the perfect time to reveal our relationship,"

"I said no, your name. We aren't in a relationship," he asserted while never looking up from his book. Normally you would drop the discussion but this time was different. Maybe it was your friend's words getting in your head. He was never going to want more. You started to pack your things. He looked up slightly panicked. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not going to be someone's dirty little secret, Zabini," you answered. "I am going to be with someone that wants to be with me,"

His dark brown eyes stared at you while you zipped your messenger bag closed. His teeth clenched and his eyes darted around wondering what to do. Thoughts sped through his mind. He opened his mouth to speak. Before he could speak you were leaving.

You walked out of the library trying to control your temper. Tears pricked your eyes. This had to be done. Blaise was in hot pursuit of you. Your name rolled off his tongue as he tried to get your attention.

"Your name," Cormac called out. You stopped in your tracks quickly. Blaise took a few steps back. "I have been looking everywhere for you. I was wondering if you would like to join me to Professor Slughorn's party,"

The thought of going with him revolted you. He was a creep. The spoiled brst only knew your name because he saw you attending your father's trial. Imagine seeing a girl crying for her father and a jerk hitting on her.

You felt Blaise eyes stare behind you. The idea was tempting. A party sounded more enticing than crying about your first Christmas without your father. Maybe Cormac changed since the summer. You swallowed your disgust and gladly accepted.

Things at the Christmas party made you realize you should have hung out with Pansy. Things went perfectly at first. Your date gave you all the attention you wished Blaise would have given you. Cormac wasn't afraid to be see with you. Except he wasn't all perfect.

He couldn't keep his hands to himself. You tried acting like you didn't mind it. At first it was innocent. His hand would rest on the small of your back. His hands were suddenly brushing against other parts of your body. Whenever you noticed Blaise was watching you allowed it. Merlin, you knew you were going to need to scrub your skin off.

Everytime he spotted mistletoe he tried to kiss you. He only managed to kiss your cheek though. You always played it off that you were impressed with something at the party. Christmas decorations or Harry Potter were often used as an excuse.

Your saving grace came at the cost of Professor Snape's clothing. Cormac ended up throwing up by the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The boy's sick ended up splatting on to the former Potions professor. Your date was given a detention and thrown out of the party.

After a few minutes, you decided to turn in. The party was starting to die down. Mister Filch caught Draco Malfoy out after curfew. Professor Snape walked with him in tow. You hoped the little ferret didn't cost your house points.

"Your name?" Blaise asked once you two made it to the Slytherin common room. The room was empty. Your fellow Slytherins were long asleep. "A word,"

"I got to actually see what it was like to be with someone that isn't ashamed of me. Do you know what that was like?" You asked with tears in your eyes. A shaky breath slipped out of you. A single tear slid down your cheek. You shrugged and shook your head. "You know I defended you against everyone but you ended up being exactly like they said,"

"And what am I?"

"A sad, lonely bloke who will never love because of his mum," you answered harshly. His nostrils flared as he glared at you. No one was allowed to mention his mother to him. She was a sore subject to him.

"You don't know what you are talking about like usual," he snapped.

"You aren't going to let anyone love you. You didn't want to give me attention because you think I will turn on you like your mother did to your dad," you stopped yourself. So many more words begged to spill from you. They would have just hurt him. Just because you were hurting doesn't mean he should hurt too.

"You think you are so clever," he chuckled dryly. "Stop talking about things you don't know about,"

"I love you, Blaise," you confessed. He flinched at your words. All he would need is one hand to count the times his mother told him those words. A piece of your heart broke at his reaction. He truly didn't know how special he was. "But I can't help fix someone that wants to stay broken,"

#fanfiction #imagine #angst #harry potter #blaise zabini fanfiction #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini #blaise zabini x reader

246 notes · View notes

nightmyst14-blog · 17 days ago

Text

Starting off the new year with my newest oc (not in creation, just to the blog's) relationship chart. I'm going split into two parts, due to him being my most thought out OC.

Here is Muscadine Cookie's chart, part 1!!

To Vampire: My boy!! My splendid boy! Look at how much you have grown!! Oh my little bat, forgive my absence... I had not wished to be apart from you, I could have taught you many things..

To Alchemist: Look at you! This is the little 'gift" your mother has wished to tell me? You look just like her. And a brilliant mind too!!

To Sugar Swan: Light.. I have missed your warm presence. Is your paradise well? Let me know if pests are bothering you.

From Vampire: Dad?? Wow, its.. its really you. Heh.. Its been a while.. Have a drink, we should catch up..

From Alchemist: Huh?? So this is the so called "Father" Vampire hasn't told me about?? Intriguing.. I must do research!!

From Sugar Swan: Oh dear Shadow... You are always such lovely company... You find the cookies interesting as I do...

To Moonlight: Little Moon, you are .. more awake when I last seen you. How wonderful. The nights are always lit well by you.

To Millennial Tree: How nice to see you again, Great Tree. So you gotten a cookie form too? Glad to see I'm not the only one.

To Eclair: This cookie has a passion for keeping history as much as I do! Odd how my coffin ended up in your museum... Lets hope the stories haven't all been twisted...

From Moonlight: Such a incredible master of Dark Moon magic. He wields it far longer than I have been around. Did the Wizards know him too.

To Eclair: A-Amazing!!! a living relic in my museum!! Oh I have many, many questions for you, good sir!! Oh I MUST write this down for my fellow historians!

To Dark Enchantress: You thought I was gone? Thinking YOU could weild the darkness as I can, in such an improper way?? STAY IN YOUR PLACE, false idol. You may have had the upper hand once, but not again. You have FORCED my claws to strike.

To Longan Dragon: Annoying Dragon... Can you realize how DULL the past was? I EMBRACE the chaotic nature of the mortals. At least those who stay in their place.

From Dark Enchantress: You're awake, after I locked you away!! Foul creature.. I'll PROVE to you I am the true one to hold darkness within my grasp!!

From Longan Dragon: You hide your TRUE self in that disgusting for yours... Forming relationships with such.... WEAK CREATURES, your spawn being on the them. Watch as it will be your greatest weakness...

To the BEASTS: PITIFUL. Such prideful tendencies MUST be condenmed. Letting your so-called PRIDE be your downfall.. then greed getting the best of you after your successors has done your job better than you... Don't make ME laugh. Try again to prove I'm wrong, I DARE YOU. I've been here first..

From the BEASTS: Your words prove nothing, my way is true.... ..I"LL END YOU AND WEAR YOUR FUR LIKE A CAPE, INSOLENT ANIMAL... Oh? Another one of your game, Lord of Darkness? Okay.. LETS PLAY.

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run #crk headcanons #cookie run headcanons #cookie run oc #crk oc: muscadine cookie #vampire cookie #alchemist cookie #moonlight cookie #millennial tree cookie #eclair cookie #longan dragon cookie #dark enchantress cookie #mystic flour cookie #burning spice cookie #shadow milk cookie

21 notes · View notes

slytherintrikru · 1 year ago

Text

|| First Time || (‘It Wasn’t A Dream’ part 2)

— Part 2 —

Pairing: Severus Snape x gryffindor!student!reader (SHE’S OF AGE)

Word Count: 5206

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 16+, dry humping, fingering, clit rubbing, cock in Vigina, male and female, adult content, adult language, cuss words, cum swallowing, fluff, out of character snape, newly graduated student, professor, younger woman with older man, first time, first kiss, kissing, hickeys, both are virgins. (SHE IS OF AGE)

Summary: Y/N and Severus have been dating for three months. She has just found out she graduated Hogwarts, will Severus and her celebrate in a special way? Read to find out. (SHE’S OF AGE)

Requested: by no one this is my idea

A/N: Hello, my fellow Dreamers, hope you like part 2 of ‘It Wasn’t A Dream’. This part might have smut, but you have to read to find out..😏 BTW I also already posted this on my AO3 account @ slytherintrikru. ( PS: hope you don’t mind I called you guys dreamers. I wanted my readers to have a name instead of being just ‘readers’ or followers’)

| Masterlist |

| Navigation |

Y/N's heart raced with excitement as she dashed down the corridors of Hogwarts, her footsteps echoing through the ancient stone walls. Passing her 8th year was an incredible achievement, especially considering the tumultuous years when Voldemort had threatened the school and everyone in the wizarding and muggle world. A mixture of disbelief and pride surged within her; she couldn't believe she had not only survived but thrived in the magical world. With the recent defeat of Voldemort by Harry Potter, a renewed sense of hope permeated the air. Y/N's destination was the dungeons, where Severus Snape, her devoted boyfriend, resided. The thought of seeing him made her steps quicken even more. She couldn't wait to share her accomplishment with him, someone who understood her struggles and dreams. As she hurried towards his private chambers, she imagined how they would celebrate her graduation from Hogwarts together, cherishing the moments that lay ahead.

She’s hoping to Merlin that they could celebrate by taking things further in their relationship.

Y/N and Severus had been entwined in a love that felt as though it had existed for far longer than three months. Despite the simplicity of their interactions—conversations that danced between intellect and laughter, and passionate moments that left them breathless—they couldn't quench their thirst for one another. It was a love born of mutual admiration and deep understanding. Y/N was wholeheartedly enamored by Severus, his every word and touch etching deeper into her heart. Her desire to build a life with him, to be his partner in every sense of the word, consumed her thoughts. With every tender kiss and whispered confession, he reciprocated her feelings, the unspoken understanding between them affirming their connection. Y/N longed to make him see himself through her eyes, to recognize the extraordinary beauty he possessed, both inside and out. Their love was a tapestry woven with unwavering devotion, a promise of forever that left them yearning for nothing more than each other's embrace.

In those transformative three months, their connection deepened immeasurably, leading to revelations that brought them closer than ever. With a profound sense of vulnerability, they confessed that they were both virgins, their body’s unclaimed by anyone before. Y/N, despite her curiosity, had never allowed herself the exploration of pleasure, each attempt leaving her searching for something more profound. Severus, too, had kept his desires in check, his solitary moments reserved for relief rather than intimacy. But as their love flourished, so did their longing to bridge the gap between them physically. Today held the promise of a change they both yearned for desperately, the culmination of their shared desires and the day Y/N had eagerly anticipated since the moment her feelings were laid bare.

She just hopes that it’s the day where she and him could make love. She's been daydreaming about it for a while and each time she created scenarios her body and mind would scream for to go to him.

Y/N's heart raced as she finally reached his chambers, her anticipation pulsating with each breath. With an eager hand, she swiftly opened the door, her eagerness spilling into the room. The door closed with a resounding thud, and her voice burst forth, calling out for her beloved Severus. "Severus!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of longing and excitement, the sound of her own voice echoing off the walls of his private haven.

“Sev! Severus!” She yelled for him again, waiting with intensity as she heard his bedroom door open abruptly. He stepped out of the room and before he could even get a word in, Y/N ran and flung her arms around Severus, almost knocking both of them over in the process. Luckily Severus caught himself and instantly wrapped his arms immediately.

“Hi, love.” He whispered for only her to hear, as if there was no else in the world but them, her smile widened even more hearing his rough, sexy voice in her ear. “I take it you’ve seen your grades?”

“Yes! I graduated, Severus. I did it Sev!” She happily said. She pulled back looking into his dark chocolate brown eyes. She saw as his smile widened across his face and his eyes twinkled with love and admiration as he looked at her.

“I’m proud of you, my little one.” He whispered for only her to hear. His smile was as bright as hers while saying this. His hands were rubbing her softly on her back up and down. She felt relaxed with him doing that, she loved this side of him so very much.

“I couldn’t have passed my exams if it wasn't for your encouragement, Severus. You helped me a lot!” She said, letting her hands slide up and around his neck and through his shoulder-length ink black hair. Severus sighed at the feeling at her soft and gentle touch before speaking again.

“It was all you, little one, I merely helped. You’re the one who studied and successfully passed. You did all the work, little love.” He said, pulling her as close as he possibly could while tightening his grip almost as if she was going to disappear at any moment and never return to him again.

Without realizing what she was saying she spoke the three words neither of them had spoken, “I love you.” She muttered, she stopped with what she was doing and froze looking shocked as ever, scared to stare into his eyes. This is the first time I ever spoke that out loud, she thought. After a few moments she finally looked at Severus, his smile was gone, he had the same expression as hers on his face. oh no I ruined the moment. She thought. “I’m s-“ she started to speak but was cut off by him.

“I love you too, my precious one.” He said, now smiling again. Kissing the top of her head.

“Really?” She happily questioned. Staring into his dark brown eyes trying to find an answer for her simple question.

“Yes really, I have been meaning to tell you, but you’ve beat me to it.” He muttered, leaning in kissing her lips softly, the kiss was so soft it was as if he was making a wish with a dandelion, before pulling away. His hands moved from her back and found a place on her hips, squeezing lightly.

Time seemed to stand still as Y/N and Severus locked eyes, a silent exchange of emotions passing between them in those fleeting moments. The air was charged with an unspoken understanding, their gazes speaking volumes that words could never capture. In the hushed intensity of their connection, Severus leaned towards her once more, their lips meeting in a kiss that held the promise of countless unspoken desires. The touch was gentle yet electric, a fusion of tenderness and urgency that encapsulated their longing.

The kiss became more and more needy by the second, it started to become needy in a sexual way, it wasn’t just a normal snogging session. As he finally surrendered to the pull that had drawn them together, the world around them faded, leaving only the exquisite sensation of their lips meeting in a union of shared affection.

Y/N was flushed, she was more flushed than she was when they shared their first kiss a few months ago, “I want to have sex with you.” She bluntly told him. She looks away embarrassed about her outburst of words.

Severus grabs her chin gently, making her look at him.

“You do? Do you want to take this further, my baby girl?” He asked, smirking.

“Yes please make me feel good, Sev.” She muttered honestly, looking lovely at him.

“Ok, my little butterfly, but if you start to feel uneasy just tell me and I’ll stop.” She nodded in response.

Her gaze shifted between his lips and his eyes, a magnetic pull drawing her back and forth. Without hesitation, she crushed her lips against his once more, the kiss ignited with an insatiable fervor. In response, he met her passion with an intensity that mirrored her own, his lips moving in perfect harmony with hers. A hand slid to the back of her head, pulling her closer, while the other found its way to her ass, the heat of his touch electrifying her senses. Stepping backward, he guided her until her back met the cool solidity of the wall, the embrace intensifying their connection. His tongue traced the contour of her lower lip, a silent request for entry that she willingly granted, allowing him to explore the depths of her mouth. A subtle struggle for dominance unfolded as their tongues danced, an unspoken battle that she ultimately relinquished to him. Slowly, his lips embarked on a journey downward, leaving a trail of heated, moist sensations along her jawline, inching closer to the tender spot at her throat that begged to be found.

She moaned, he smirked knowing that he has found the spot that makes her whimper for him and only him. Her hands moved towards his hair and she tightened her grip in his soft and fluffy hair causing the man to growl in response, he slapped her ass. A whine left her lips, making him smirk.

“My eager little princess, moaning for me and only me. Now be my good little angel girl and take what you want.” He hissed into her ear seductively. The hand that he had in her hair moved from her head, and made its way down towards her shorts, pulling them back quickly, before sticking his hand completely into her shorts and underwear. His thumb found its way to her clit, rubbing her bundle of nerves slowly causing her to let out a soft moan. “Yes, my darling little one. Moan for me. Just for me, ONLY for me.” He said tighten his hold on her with his other arm.

He pushed his thumb harder into Y/N’s clit, rubbing tight and slow circles as he kissed and nipped at her neck, making her feel pleasure she has never felt a day in her life. She lifted one of her legs and tightly wrapped it around his waist bucking her hips into his hand so she could get as much pressure on her clit as possible. Y/N wanted his mouth on her neck again, kissing her skin, so she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling slightly, causing his face to fall forward burying it on the side of her neck. Severus growled again, getting the jester, her lover attached his lips to her neck sucking on her neck.

“Please Sev! Please.” She gasped, as she moans at the new feeling he was making her feel.

“Does this feel good my angel? Does this make you want to cum? Hmm?” Speeding his thumb up more as his middle finger made its way to her opening, entering her swiftly yet softly, making her jump a little from the new pressure, his middle finger stilled for a moment and then he started to move in a come here motion. When he felt Y/N start to move her hips into his hand faster, his middle finger sped up. He spoke again, “That’s it, my sweet sweet love, move your hips and rub that pussy on my hand, take what you want from me. My little angel, your pussy feels so fucking good and my cock hasn’t even entered you yet.”

She did as he told her and started moving even faster, moaning and panting at the way he was making her feel. Y/N moved harder when she felt this odd sensation in her abdomen. It felt like her insides was doing flips, she likes that feeling. He felt her velvety walls squeezed around his finger and he sped up his pace in her tight, soft, wet hole while he added more pressure to her clit making sure her pussy throbbed for him more. This is the first time she has felt like this down there and it feels so good. She wants more. She continued to rub her pussy on his hand making sure to add pressure to her bundle of nerves so she’ll be able to feel that pleasure in her abdomen again. FUCK! fuck, want more of him, just him, only him. Feels so good. He makes me feel so good, so wet. Her thoughts were cut by the sound of her own moans. Her mind spinning in circles while pussy was pulsing around his thick finger and it felt spectacular.

“Yes! Oh Merlin, yes. Severus don’t stop I- you feel so- awh.“ she pulled him tightly against as she was stopped by her own cry of pleasure, she felt a hot liquid spill from her pussy all over his hand and her underwear. I came already? She thought. Her face turned a bright shade of red, she felt embarrassed that she couldn’t hold it in and that she came that quickly.

Instead of moving his hand he let out a deep groan while she was cumming all over his hand as he continued to add even more pleasure to her clit so she’ll be able to ride out her high, which he caused. He started to kiss and bite at her neck while making his way down her chest leaving hickies so everyone will know she belongs to him and him only. His arm around her squeezed her delicately as he held her body to him not wanting to move.

Finally, removed his hand and pulled back just enough so she’ll be able to see him stick his fingers in his mouth, tasting her juices while moaning and groaning as he did so. He quickly pulled his fingers out of his mouth and kissed her passionately letting her know she did good for him. He finally pulled away looking at her beautiful face, smirking at the way her eyes was barely open and mouth agape. Knowing it was him who did this to her made him brim with pride. So fucking beautiful. He thought.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and heard.” He breathed out, her eyes opened fully and she saw his pupils was dilated. Y/N could hardly see his brown onyx eyes anymore. When her eyes met his that was when he saw the look in her beautiful eyes, he instantly knew what she was feeling and said, “Don’t second guess yourself, little one, what you just did was dangerously sexy.” He kissed her lips again.

She felt the weight on her chest lift at his words.

“That felt so amazing, Severus I never felt like that in my lifetime and I want more Sev, please give me more. Please.” She begged almost moaning in the process. “Make me yours completely Sev. Fuck me hard and fast into the bed.”

In a moment of involuntary movement, her hips shifted forward against his hard clothed cock, causing him to let out a suppressed moan. Her own nervousness showed as she tentatively pressed closer, her breath catching at the sensation. Amidst the uncertainty, her body's response had soaked through her underwear and shorts, revealing her arousal. Severus leaned his head back, absorbing the overwhelming sensations, letting a hint of pleasure course through him. He proceeded cautiously, wanting to ease her into the experience without causing any pain. Their hips began to sway together, a mixture of curiosity and excitement in the air as they both emitted soft, unsure sounds. The rhythm intensified, and he pushed against her a bit more urgently, feeling the tension build. Their movements became faster, though they retained a degree of innocence in their exploration. They moan loudly at the new feeling. Gently, he held her hips to still their motion, preparing for the next step. With a nervous yet determined resolve, he lifted her and guided her towards the bedroom, laying her down as he hovered above. In the safety of that private space, they continued their intimate movements, her legs wrapping around his hips to bring him closer, both of them navigating new territory with a mix of apprehension and anticipation.

He battles with the urge to halt, recognizing the need for restraint, even as the tantalizing sensation of her moist core against him remains irresistible. Pausing for a brief moment, he hurriedly removes his own clothes, seeking her permission with an inquisitive glance. With an eager nod, she signals her consent. Swiftly, he undresses her, mindful of her comfort, and then he grasps his firm, long, thick, & hard cock. Gently inserting himself between her folds, they resume their rhythm of gentle grinding. He pays careful attention to ensure the tip of his shaft presses against her sensitive areas, particularly her clit, generating pleasurable pressure against her bundle of nerves. Y/N becomes captivated by the sensations, as if she's been transported to an ethereal realm she never wishes to depart from. The seamless glide of his impressive length along her folds, the precise alignment that brings the tip of his member into contact with her clit, all contribute to her enchantment. Amidst her heightened arousal, her moans escape once more, and she clings tightly to him, wrapping her legs around his form in a blend of desire and trepidation.

“Feels. So. Good.” With each word he said he thrusted harder than the last causing her to moan into his ear. The bed started to shake at how hard and fast he was pushing into her. His cock sliding and pushing against her whole pussy that has become wetter than before letting him easily move against her folds. The veins on his cock were becoming more evident. He loudly moaned into her ear feeling so much pleasure from the way they were rubbing together. She loves that sound.

He bucked his hips into her, rubbing his already hard cock against her humping as fast and as hard as he could. He slipped his hand between them, opening her pussy lips so she could feel his cock on her throbbing core. She moaned. The way he made sure his cock was hitting her clit every time he moved his dick into her was making her see stars in her eyes. Her eyes disappeared into the back of her head at how good he was making her feel. She couldn’t get enough and wanted more so she started moving her hips as well adding on to the pleasure. Her nails dug into his back making Severus hiss in pleasure and pain. Even dry humping feels good to her. Fuck her cunt feels so amazing against me. His eyes slowly closed from the pleasure as he just lived in the moment feeling so good at what he was receiving and loving ever second of it.

“Awh, fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s it, baby harder.” She moaned, coping him by pushing harder and faster into him when she said each word.

He pressed into her with force, a fervent desire to draw as close as physically possible evident in his movements. His weight bore down on her as he thrust, the pulsating ache of his erection yearning for fullness within her, though restraint held him back. His primary focus lay in preparing her for the impending connection. Unrestrained, he persisted in their dry humping, the friction intensifying as he pressed firmly against her, attuned to her moans that seemed to implore him for equal pleasure. Encouraged by her engagement, she matched his rhythm, enhancing their mutual experience with the urgency of her own movements.

“Do. You. Like. The. Way. My. Cock. Feels.” He said thrusting a lot faster with each word he spoke, putting as much weight on her cunt as he possibly could, making her bundle of nerves throb and tingle even more. She moaned out a ‘yes’ feeling intoxicated by his big cock. He moved back slightly before thrusting hard towards her causing her to whine out. He growled back in return.

Before words could escape either of them, a shared moan erupted as they reached a climax in tandem. As the echoes of their orgasms subsided, she resumed her movements against him, driven by an unquenchable desire. Clinging tightly with her legs, she intensified her grinding, an urgent determination guiding her actions. She seemed possessed by an insatiable craving for him, an overwhelming force that resisted any attempt to halt. Each motion was driven by an unyielding need for more, a single focus on him alone. Her attentiveness to his pleasure remained evident as she maneuvered, ensuring his substantial length struck precisely against her bundle of nerves. The fervor of her actions escalated, pressing him further against her in a testament to her yearning. Her hand ventured downwards to the point of connection, exerting pressure upon him that elicited twin whimpers of shared longing. Progressing with unabated eagerness, her fingers encircled him, stimulating the head of his erection with unrelenting intensity against her clit.

“Love, you have to stop so I can continue getting you ready to take my cock in your tight cunt.” He muttered, while breathily moans escaped his lips and filled her ears turning her on even more. Her pussy feels so good on my cock though, he thought. He moaned lowly again feeling her pussy heat on him when she pushed his whole dick against her wetness.

“No! No! Please more, I don’t wanna stop. I want to feel good again, Sev. I want to cum again, please keep going.” She begged “Please, so good, almost there,

your cock feels so damn good on my cunt.”

“I will make you cum again, love, but you have to stop for a second.” Her hips stilled waiting for his next move she felt him lift her up so he could sit on the bed this time, his hand moving towards her clit to rub circles again. Y/N moans loudly, making Severus smirk and speed up his movements with his hand. She felt the familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach again, Severus noticed and stopped his movements. She whines at the loss.

“W-W-Why did you stop!” She whimpers, trying to get more friction on her clit, but he held Y/N still and flipped her over on the bed. He was on top of her now, between her legs. Severus smirked at how eager she was.

“I’m not even close at being done with you, my slutty princess. This time, I’m burying my big cock inside of your wet tight little cunt. I want you to moan my name as you squeeze me and milk my cock with your cum until you go dry. My beautiful horny girl. Are you ready to take my cock, love?” He questioned in a low yet deep dark voice. Almost growling like a wild animal in the process. He looks into her beautiful E/C eyes. She nods eagerly. “I need you to use your words, my beautiful queen.”

She blushed, “Yes, please, I need you in me!”

“Ok, my sweet, but if you feel uncomfortable in any way just like me know and I’ll stop.” He said, she nods in response.

He resumed a trail of kisses, traveling along her neck before descending toward her breasts. As he reached them, his lips enclosed around one, sucking with a purposeful intensity on the erect bud while manipulating and fondling the other. The sensation drew her body upward, arching off the bed to amplify the friction between them. A sharp hiss of discomfort escaped her lips when he bit down on her nipple, momentarily shifting her focus. Simultaneously, his other hand ventured downward, finding its destination at her soaked entrance. Though she winced at the heightened sensitivity from her twice-repeated climax, he collected the evidence of her pleasure on his hand, then brought it to her mouth, prompting her to taste herself. In response, her moans of mingled vulnerability and desire filled the air.

One of his hands was placed by her head, while the other moved its way down toward his cock, grabbing it. His lips moved from her chest making their way towards her neck again, kissing and sucking feverishly.

He started to rub the red swollen tip of his cock on her pussy getting ready to fuck get into the bed. He groaned loudly while he rubbed his dick against her, feeling pleasure in doing so. Moving his cock up and down her soft pussy. He circled his cock around her opening before moving toward her sensitive clit. He has never expressed this desire before nor has she and it felt like he was on cloud 20 not 9, 20. It felt almost like a dream he never wanted to wake up from. A dream where they fuck for infinity and never stop no matter how much it hurts. He rubbed harder as his pre- cum started to drip and cover her pussy with his arousal.

“Do you want me to go slow and easy or do you want me to slam into you hard and fast to get the pain over with as soon as possible?”

“Start off slow, then slam into me hard and fast. I can take it, Sev.” He nodded.

Moving his cock towards her wet entrance he slowly let the tip of his dick slide in. After he slid in a bit he pulled back out and then pushed back in not going all the way in just enough so she’ll be able to feel what he’s about to do. He continued that for a while making her a moaning and squirming mess underneath him before she was begging for more.

Without warning he pulled back a little than harshly slammed back into hard making her yelp in pain but pleasure as well his hips stilled for a moment. Damn she’s so fucking tight and wet. Calm down Severus it’s her first time as well as yours but this hurts her more than me don’t fuck it up, his thoughts ran wild.

As the discomfort subsided, she initiated a gentle rotation of her hips, an act that symbolized her gradual acceptance of him, and only him. Sensing the opportune moment, he withdrew and reentered with an intensified force, evoking harmonized moans from both of them. Sustaining his vigorous rhythm, he maintained a powerful and relentless pace, delving as deeply as the confines of her tightness would allow. Every thrust conveyed an unspoken connection, a tangible presence of his entirety within her. She feels so fucking warm, fuck, her pussy is squeezing me so tight my dick might fall off. Her velvety walls feel like heaven, He thought. He moans loudly in Y/N ear, making her even more wetter.

In that intimate moment, she experienced the sensation of his pulsating presence brushing against her moist core, moving with urgency and intensity. Her impassioned cries resonated loudly, resembling almost a scream, matched by his deep groans and primal responses to the symphony of her pleasure. The connection they shared overwhelmed them, a profound sense of affection enveloping them both.

So good this feels even better than the other. “Awh- oh fucking hell- sev.” She uttered out breathlessly.

“My sweet girl, your pussy feels so good it makes me want to stay inside you forever. You’re squeezing me so tight I can tell you’re close to my little love bug. Release for me, angel.” He moaned out, he thrusted into her deeper with each word.

He accelerated his rhythm, pushing himself to the limits, relentlessly thrusting into her with an intensity that made both them and the bed quiver. The sensation of her enveloping him so snugly heightened his pleasure, and although this was unfamiliar territory for him, the connection between them felt instinctive and seamless. Even Lily paled in comparison to the depth of emotion he shared with Y/N, rendering those memories insignificant in comparison. Lily was nothing compared to Y/N, he thought.

“I love you, S-Sev! I love you so much!” She moaned breathlessly in his ear.

“I love you too, my little darling.” He responded, thrusting faster into her pussy. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as she moans.

They both experienced a blazing sensation of pleasure, as if their insides were ablaze. He intensified his movements, going deeper and more vigorously, causing their moans to become louder and more intense. He was aware that their sounds probably echoed throughout the entire castle, but he paid no attention. He quickened the rhythm of his thrusts, feeling the ebb and flow of his body against hers, ensuring his movements hit just the right spot. His abdomen was rubbing against her swollen clit. Despite any discomfort, she was resolute in her desire for this connection, wanting to be with him in this way indefinitely.

He entered her with a newfound intensity, thrusting deeper and quicker than before. It was as though his body was moving beyond his control, like the effects of the Imperius Curse. His desire for more was insatiable—he craved a union so passionate that they would be left exquisitely sensitive and spent. His wish was to continue until both were thoroughly exhausted from their shared climax. He longed for his essence to spill into her, finding its way to her womb, leading to the possibility of her carrying his child and her abdomen swelling with the promise of new life.

“Feels so good. Can’t stop. Can’t st-“ He caught his breath, a gasp lodged in his throat, and nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck, gently nipping it as a deep, guttural groan escaped him. His hips moved erratically as he released thick ribbons of his cum into her, and in response, Y/N climaxed as well, coaxing every last drop from him. Her pussy embrace held him so snugly that his movements were almost restrained.

He eased his full weight onto her as they both took a moment to catch their breath after their passionate encounter. A serene relaxation enveloped them, making the idea of moving seem undesirable to both. However, Severus recognized the necessity of tending to their cleanliness and preparing for sleep. He began to shift and rise, only for Y/N to emit a plaintive whimper, her grip on him tight.

“Where are you going?” She quipped.

“I’m just going to get a rag to clean us up, my lovely girl.” She nodded letting him go.

He swiftly rose and retrieved a damp cloth, using it to gently cleanse her pussy. She winced as he touched her oversensitive and swollen clit. "I know, my love. You're alright," he reassured her. He then flipped the cloth to its other side, cleaning his softened cock before discarding the cloth onto the floor. Once he finished, he returned to bed to join her.

He drew her near, her head finding a comfortable spot on his chest. As she began to drift into slumber, the sound of his heartbeat echoed in her ears. He tucked them both under a blanket, whispering, "Sweet dreams, my love." He muttered. With a sense of profound relaxation, he too succumbed to sleep, feeling a tranquility he had never experienced before.

193 notes · View notes

waterfae · 2 months ago

Text

A Good Pillow [Part 6]

Summary: A glimpse of your budding friendship with Ominis and your growing feelings after the events in the Scriptorium.

Pairings: Ominis Gaunt x Reader, Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mild language, angst, comfort, fluff, friends-to-lovers, unhinged Slytherins, complicated relationships, house-neutral reader, no use of Y/N, no beta

Word Count: 1.8+ K

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

|| General Masterlist || Hogwarts Legacy Masterlist ||

Hope.

You saw it emanating from Sebastian’s entire being, from the moment the pair of you pulled yourselves back out from the pensieve to now, as he asked you to speak with the keepers; to ask them of the power you had just witnessed through Isidora’s memories. A power that you too could possibly possess; learn to hone. His features had immediately opened up, eyes wide and expectant and an optimistic grin that you had not seen on him in months. The thought of possibly having to wipe it off your friend’s face killed you inside.

“If not for me,” He begged, “then for Anne.”

There had been a brief period – when you first reemerged from the pensieve – that you felt that same hope bubbling up inside of you. To see someone with the same abilities attempt and actually succeed such a feat of healing another person in that manner – to take their pain away – it was fascinating.

‘If she can do it, then so can I.’ Had been an instant thought.

But when the initial excitement faded and you recalled the reactions of Isidora’s colleagues, you realized that a part of you also found it frightening. What exactly was Isidora siphoning? Some form of magic? The disease itself? What if you tried and pulled something else out – something important? Her father looked fine enough in the memory, but such magic was still uncharted territory and with the final trial still looming, you were aware that there was still information yet to be discovered. It was far too ambitious to go down that path with so little knowledge. And dangerous. ‘And stupid.’ You could hear Ominis say in your head. You could not afford to be as passionate as Sebastian in his quest to save his twin, it fell on you to be the pragmatic one with Ranrok being a bigger threat. You’re fellow Hogwarts students were depending on you – bloody hell, the entire wizarding world – whether they knew it or not.

You were torn: you could not guarantee a yes until you gathered all the missing pieces, but you also dared not dash his hopes by completely saying no. Hesitantly, you nodded at his request, deciding that whether or not any good came from it, you could at the very least ask the questions. There was no harm in just asking, was there?

Sebastian smiled triumphantly at your response, “Thank you! Thank you!” He quickly made his way towards you and gathered you up in his arms. Before you could process what was happening, your feet had left the ground and he was swinging you around in circles.

You cried out in surprise and initially resisted as the room twisted around you, but as you became more disoriented, found that you needed to wrap your own arms around him to prevent the both of you from toppling over.

“I knew you were special.” He said excitedly after setting you down. You quickly loosened your hold, but his continued while he stared at you in awe, “From the moment we met, I knew there was a deeper reason we crossed paths.”

“Sebastian, slow down.” You allowed your arms fall from his shoulders and extended forward to establish some distance from him, still adjusting from the dizzying way he spun you, “I wouldn’t get too excited just yet. We’re not even sure if –”

You never got to finish what you were trying to say. It happened so fast that even if you had suspected it – which you hadn't – there would have been no way for you to stop his actions. Mid-sentence, his hands went to cup both sides of your face and crashed his lips down onto yours. The breath was stolen from your lungs and your eyes had expanded so greatly from the shock, they were practically popping out of their sockets. You stood frozen in place, completely nonreactive, as if someone had just cast a full body-bind curse on you.

Sebastian’s eyelids fluttered closed, but yours remained open, staring straight ahead with half your line of sight obscured by his countenance – your focus darting from his freckled visage, blurred by the proximity, to the exit of the Undercroft that stood behind him. You could feel his lips move roughly against yours, his hold never ceasing, while the stiffness from your frame persisted, nonreciprocating. Could Sebastian not feel it? Your body was physically rejecting him. As was your mind and it kept reaching out for one person and one person alone.

‘Ominis!’ It screamed at you.

You blinked once. Then twice. A rapid pace soon followed as the gears slowly began to churn, then suddenly, as if the spell had been lifted by the mere thought of Ominis Gaunt, the reality of the situation struck you like a boulder flung by a troll. A gasp escaped your lips and you found the ability to move your muscles once more. Swiftly, you brought your hands up against Sebastian’s chest, before unceremoniously shoving him away from you.

“What are you doing?” You breathed out in dismay, bringing your hands up to your lips as you watched him stumble back.

A look of confusion emerged on his face as he regained his balance, “I...I thought we were having a moment.”

“You were having a moment.” You kept your attention on him with similar confusion. Had you missed something? Given some kind of indication to provoke such behavior from him? You wracked your brain for it, but couldn’t pinpoint any particular thing. Not one that you could recall.

The two of you stood in awkward silence: you with your hands still covering your mouth, almost as if you were afraid he would try to place his lips on yours again and he staring down and shuffling on his feet, unable to look at you in the eyes as he toed the floor.

“Sebastian –” You started, cutting through the thick aura currently wafting through the Undercroft.

“It’s been a long night.” Sebastian interrupted you for the second time that evening, this time with words rather than a kiss. He must have sensed the conversation you wanted to have – or rather the rejection you wanted to give – and did not want to provide.

“Right.” It had taken a minute to reply, your voice weak and distorted as if something had been caught in your throat.

“You’ll let me know?” He looked up at you then, hands shoved into his pockets, “What your keepers say about all this?”

Your hands left your mouth now and slowly fell down to your sides; you nodded, “Yes. Of course.”

“Right then.” He took a step towards you at first, then paused and took a step back. He moved forward again a second later with brows furrowed; it was as though his body wasn’t sure what to do with itself until finally he side stepped and gestured for you to go on ahead.

Cautiously, you moved past him towards the exit.

He stayed behind and did not follow.

The days passed by quickly, but everything else did not. You still had not heard a word from Lodgok for any new leads in regards to Ranrok and San Bakar had yet to reveal the final trial. You could understand the professor’s hesitancy, but time did not wait and it felt like you were running out of it. Frustrating as it was, Professor Fig insisted to focus on your studies and your friends in the meantime, which you tried to do, but Sebastian wasn’t making that any easier either. He was insistent on inquiring about the keepers and your powers whenever the opportunity arose – how it could help Anne, but you could barely look him in the eye whenever he did. One part due to your lack of headway and the second due to that accursed kiss.

“It’s only awkward because you’re making it awkward.” Imelda had stated one day after another flight trial. Out of all the friends you made this school year, you had decided that she would be the best option to confined in for this particular situation. She may end up teasing you for a bit, but you knew that she would give it to you straight. No sugarcoating. No sparing of feelings.

“No, I am not making it awkward. The situation actually is awkward.” You responded as you jumped off your broom, “It’s awkward because two of my closest friends who used to be best friends and are now at odds with each other have now both kissed me, when all I really want is the one. Just. The one. And even that has been quite a situation all on its own.”

“Shall I kiss you too then and make it three?” Imelda teased as she too hopped off her broom and began the walk back to the castle from the quidditch pitch.

You followed behind her, lips pursed, “Not. Funny.”

Imelda let out a laugh and threw her hands up in surrender, “You’re sure about ‘the one’? We’re still young, you know. You’re not the least bit curious about Sallow?” She raised an eyebrow, regarding you, “Honestly, after that first duel in Defense class, everyone thought you two would be shagging in some broom closet by the end of the year. Who knew knocking him on his arse would also win his heart.” She snickered at her own crass joke.

You picked at the wood of your broom handle, contemplating her words. You previously questioned if you had missed anything and the result at that time had been nothing, but after speaking with Imelda, it seemed that perhaps you did. Did Sebastian really have those type of feelings for you this entire time? If he did, you never noticed. To you, he was merely being a dedicated and loyal friend. And it wasn’t as though he weren’t attractive; that wasn’t the problem at all. Objectively, he was very attractive and if you had to be honest, there had been one very brief occasion in the beginning when you might have been intrigued, but it was fleeting and that was as far as it went. You never really saw him as anything more than a friend; you thought that had been clear.

There were plenty of other girls that were obviously vying for Sebastian’s attention, but yours? Yours had been captured by someone else. You ended your thoughts on that note and with a shake of your head, you gave your reply, repeating your earlier sentiment, “Just the one.”

“Sallow won’t like that.” Imelda pointed out, “I imagine it will cause more problems between those two.”

“Probably.” You sighed in defeat.

“Just be honest.” She wrapped an arm around your shoulders and gave you what was meant to be comforting pats, “Tell him: Sallow, I’m sorry, but I’d rather be snogging Gaunt. Regards.”

You rolled your eyes; you weren’t comforted at all, “Yes, that will certainly go over well.”

She shrugged with a smirk on her lips, “Best to keep it simple. It’s worked for me.”

You huffed.

Oh, how you wished your life right now was just that: simple.

a/n: I didn't actually plan for it, but Imelda becoming her bestie and confidant was a surprising thing that kind of just unfurled on it's own. I don't hate it though. I hope you enjoyed this one! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and my askbox is always open. ♡

taglist: @cherry-cola-100 @moonsickness-posts @superblyspeedydragon @plumzlovesfics

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy fanfic #🧚🏻‍♀️࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟfaefic

83 notes · View notes