#i'd like to thank the ministry!!!!!

[weensysunshine]

I love your art!🫶 Especially the way you draw Phantom, Rain and Dewdrop😩😍

THANK YOU!!!!!!! i am soooo so super appreciative of all the support my art has been receiving lately <33

[ellecdc]

Come Back, Be Here (finale)

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 5.7k

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, hurt/comfort, fluff, use of Y/N

A/N: Holy. Friggen. Crap. WHAT A RIDE! Thank you all so much for enjoying this story with me - it has truly felt like the most niche book club and I have had so much fun chatting with you all. Feel free to send in requests for these lovely characters in the CBBH universe - I'd love to continue playing with them! xx

Lily and James Potter returned to 12 Grimmauld place on the 3rd of November – Sirius’ birthday. There were long hugs, a lot of tears and soft dinner conversation, but there would be no gifts or raucous celebrating. 

Regulus Black was arrested at Malfoy Manor as a marked Death Eater, but with the backing of James, Sirius and Dumbledore, the Ministry allowed Regulus to be placed on house arrest, confiscating his wand whilst he awaited trial. Dumbledore assured the group that because of Regulus’ defection, his support of the Order, and the memories that Dumbledore, you, and those who were present on October 31st provided the Ministry, Regulus would likely be acquitted of his charges, or at the very least receive a lighter sentence. 

Tom Riddle was quickly charged with treason, tyranny, countless charges of the use of unforgiveables, countless charges of leading or causing the death of wizards, witches, and muggles, countless charges of torture and brutality, eliciting fear and chaos, and illegal use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss and the act was carried out on the 5th of November. 

Peter Pettigrew did indeed receive a fair trial for his role in the Wizarding War. He was questioned under Veritaserum, and it was found that he was guilty of treason, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, the use of Dark Magic, and sexual assault and brutality. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban.

Lucius Malfoy came looking for his son and was thus arrested by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the charge of being a marked Death Eater. He was questioned under Veritaserum which proved Lucius was guilty of harboring dangerous criminals, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, and the use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban. His property and vault at Gringott’s were seized by the Ministry and, after taking what was owed for reparations, was placed into his son’s name. 

The Ministry respected Narcissa Malfoy’s dying wish and placed Draco Malfoy in the care of Sirius Black and Y/N L/N. The Ministry offered the couple access to the Malfoy vault to support Draco’s upbringing, but they opted to leave it aside for the child to choose what to do with the fortune when he was of age.

Narcissa Malfoy’s funeral took place on the 7th of November. The blustery November air accosted the patrons which mostly consisted of Order members and a few of Narcissa’s friends who were able to dodge persecution for their roles or complacency in the war. She was awarded an Order of Merlin posthumously for her role - a title she now shared with you, Sirius, James, Lily, Remus, and later Regulus along with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. Draco left his mother a beautiful bouquet of narcissus, baby’s breath, lavender, and pink camelia’s. You and Sirius gave her a bouquet of edelweiss, fern, and gladioli. Blue hydrangeas and hyssops came from Regulus who was unable to attend due to the nature of his house arrest but were placed at Narcissa’s headstone by Lily and Harry in the family plot of Malfoy Manor. Andromeda, Ted and Nymphadora Tonks stood by you, Sirius, and Draco at the headstone during the funeral service as Dumbledore spoke of the bravery, loyalty, and dedication Narcissa showed not only to her son and her family, but to the greater wizarding world on the 31st of October. 

“There is not one witch or wizard amongst us today that does not owe Narcissa Black Malfoy a considerable debt. Without her bravery and cunningness, evil could very well have prospered, dooming us all to life of immense pain and suffering. She dreamed of a legacy - of a better future - for her own son as well as for every child of wizard kind. Narcissa was a beyond bright student during her time at Hogwarts, a strong leader in her social circle, a skilled healer during the war, and an incredibly brave soldier. Though, possibly her favourite and certainly her greatest role was that of a loving mother; for she died to ensure that her son would live to see a better tomorrow. Narcissa Black Malfoy is the type of person, friend, partner, and parent that each of us should aspire to be. May her legacy of love and loyalty live eternally.” He said as he raised his wand.

One by one, every person present raised their wand to the heavens in honour of Narcissa Malfoy and her sacrifice to the wizarding world. Draco, Harry and Nymphadora, along with the Weasley children and Neville Longbottom who did not yet have their own wands raised a narcissus flower in solidarity.

The remaining marauders, you, Lily, and Regulus did indeed stay at 12 Grimmauld place for some time. The house was unrecognizable from the time Regulus and Sirius spent growing up there; it was bright, it was colourful, it was full of children’s laughter and squealing, it was a place people liked to come to visit, and it was chock full of love. 

The problem with the new and improved Grimmauld Place? 

Your tribe quickly outgrew it. 

As time went on, your memories seemed to return to you basically in full, and the full extent of your trauma reared its ugly head. For years you became hyper-focused on knowing where each member of your family was at any given moment, and a panic attack threatened any moment you didn’t have everyone important to you within your periphery. The Third Worst Day™ of Sirius’ life (in chronological order, the first being the day he almost ruined things between you two, the next being the day you ‘died’) was the day Lily and James suggested to you, him, Remus, and Regulus that they should perhaps fix up Potter Manor and move their ever-growing family there. It was partly the worst day because of how the idea of James and Lily moving away made him feel, but it was mostly because of the mental breakdown you had at the news. 

“You can’t! You can’t do this! I just got you back, we just got each other back. You can’t do this!” You shouted as everyone tried to get you to breathe. The numerous hands approaching you placatingly was in fact not what you needed at the moment, and you fell into a manic state.

Needless to say, the suggestion was not met well by you, and ended with you being admitted to the psychiatric ward at St. Mungo’s. Sirius sat at your bedside with your hand in his, Lily and James in chairs across from him whilst Regulus and Remus stayed home and watched the children. 

“I cannot live without any of you anymore. I’m sorry, but I refuse. I can’t do it.” Sirius admitted quietly to his friends as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

You had been dosed heavily with calming draught and dreamless sleep in order to prevent any seizure activity, which you became plagued with due to the trauma of the brain from memory retention and prevention throughout the war. 

“I can’t either.” James admitted, causing Lily to turn and face him.

“I’m sorry Lil’s, I know-” he cut himself off to take a steadying breath. “I know when we got married, you probably imagined us living at the Manor or maybe in another place as independent adults. After we lost mum and dad, I’m sure you imagined us taking that over in their place, and I think I wanted that too, but now, knowing what we know, I would have done things differently. I wish we had moved in with mum and dad and been there to enjoy their last few years with them. We had our own flat at the time and Moony, Pads, and Vix had theirs and I was so lucky that I got to spend as much time with Vixen as I did, being her order partner and all, but then she was gone, and I regretted ever spending a single moment away from her. Now...now I’m afraid that every second I don’t spend with you – all of you, any of you, my family – is a second wasted and I don’t want to waste another precious second. Not anymore. Not ever again.” 

Lily looked imploringly at her husband.

“You really are a bell-end.” She muttered fondly.

“Pardon me?”

“Do you really think I imagined us living alone in that big ass manor just us and our kids? What part of that do you think appeals to me? I love you, James, but a girl needs backup to deal with the likes of you.” 

Sirius and James exchanged a bemused glance before Lily continued.

“I want to live the rest of my life with my family. That’s you, James, and our kids, but it’s also Sirius and Y/N, it’s Remus and Regulus and Draco. Hell, if Alice and Frank or Marlene and Dorcas told me they wanted to move in I’d happily help them pack the boxes.” She laughed as she looked at you and Sirius’ intertwined hands.

“I think we’re all going to be stuck with one another until the end of time.” James said as he pulled his wife into his side.

Sirius smiled greatly at them. “Until all the mischief is managed.”

After that, the friends all agreed that none of them were willing to part from the group, and if for whatever reason anyone felt the need for more privacy, they would opt to build an outbuilding on the property.

“Oi! You’ve gotta knock, Prongs! Fuckin’ wanker.” Sirius had shouted as he hastily pulled the sheets up around the two of you.

“Uhm, maybe you’ve gotta lock the door, Pads.” James muttered with a mouthful of muffin as he came in to sit on the edge of the bed, completely unperturbed by the fact that the two of you were still naked and very recently involved in unmentionable deeds. 

Nevertheless, no one ever felt the need to build their own place on the property.

And Sirius made sure James got a taste of his own medicine a time or two after that incident.

Lily Evans Potter did indeed contact Healer Grundke at the end of the war and was brought on to work under her as an intern whilst she worked toward getting her Healer license. She spent many years in general medicine before moving fulltime to labour and delivery. Sirius often teased her that between the number of days she has spent in labour & delivery as a patient and as a doctor, he was surprised any of their other friends ever saw her. 

His nose was charmed green for a week.

Regulus Black was eventually acquitted of his crimes. He was placed on a sort of life-long probation in the form of a tracking spell on his wand that would alert the Ministry of him ever practicing Dark Magic. He opted to stay with his brother and his friends though he pretended to hate every minute of it. In truth, Regulus found great joy in being an uncle to Sirius’ and James’ children and Godfather to his best friend’s daughter Luna Lovegood. He declined the opportunity to join the Wizengamot, stating that as the rightful heir to the Black name, Sirius should be the one to take the Black’s seat.

Sirius Black, in Sirius Black fashion, dramatically refuted this idea. He did not want to pick up the mantle that was laid for him by the generations of Black’s before him; he refused to sit in the nearly still warm seat that his father had left. It took Regulus, Remus, and Lily all to tell him how much good he could do by not only bringing in a younger generation’s perspective to the Wizengamot, but as a wealthy heir to a pureblood line, a war hero, and an advocate for werewolf and muggleborn rights, he could bridge the gap between the left and right-wing members of the court.

It also helped that you had told him he’d be the only one capable of making the robes look punk rock. 

James Potter opted to be a stay-at-home dad and uncle to care for the children living at Potter Manor. The Potter vaults had enough money in them to last his family multiple lifetimes without every making a dent, and with the money Lily was making as a healer, there was no need to be worried financially. Also, being a kid at heart made him the absolute best friend of any child who met him. As the children grew older, he and Mrs. Weasley worked together to homeschool the children of the Order until they were old enough to attend Hogwarts.

Remus Lupin, never one willing to ride on his friend’s coat tails, spent the first few months following the war applying to various jobs through out Wizarding London. He had hoped that between his stellar academic record, his time spent as a prefect and tutor, his Order of Merlin, and his dedication to the winning side of the Wizarding War, that he would be able to secure a job within wizarding society. Unfortunately, it seemed the wizarding world still had a long way to go with the prejudice it held for werewolves. Walking through Diagon Alley feeling sorry for himself, Remus spotted a “for lease” sign in the window of what used to be a pet store. He immediately sent an owl to the landlord and asked for a meeting. 

Though Remus tried to refuse, Sirius and James insisted on investing in Remus’ planned bookstore.

“I’m not borrowing money, Prongs.” Remus muttered defiantly.

“It’s not borrowing, Moons! It’s an investment! If anything, you’ll be making me more money.” He exclaimed excitedly.

“Moony, please,” Sirius added...well, seriously, “think of how pissed off my ancestors would be to know I’m investing their money in a half-blood werewolf’s business which happens to stock muggle literature?” 

With a mischievous smirk, the deal was settled, and the lease was signed. 

Remus wasted no time to get started at the bookstore. He walked into the small storefront and conjured a broom, deciding to start by sweeping up the hay and owl droppings.

No sooner had he started did he hear the door chime. 

“Oh! My apologies, we’re not quite open yet.” Remus offered as he made his way to the door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you and Regulus standing in the entry.

“I should hope not. This place looks awful.” Regulus commented with a wrinkled nose.

You elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Looks like you could use some help.” You said cheerily as you held out a stack of papers. Remus took them gently to find your CV and cover letter. Before Remus could even look up, Regulus dropped his on top of yours in Remus’ hand.

“All my references are either dead or in prison so.” He offered with a shrug.

“I’ll vouch for him.” You said.

You were smiling at him so kindly and so sweetly, Remus wanted to cry. You had always been his biggest supporter; championing him through every milestone in Remus’ life. He was certain he didn’t deserve even half of the love you gave him, but he was eternally grateful for every drop of it.

“Thank you, guys.” Remus said wetly as he pulled the two of you in for a hug. Regulus groaned the entire time but when Remus finally pulled away, he had a slight blush. 

“Yeah, yeah. Well, what is family for?” He muttered which elicited a sharp gasp from you and a bark of laugh from Remus.

“Don’t be going soft on us now, Black!” Remus said with a laugh and ruffled his hair. 

“Fuck you guys, clean this barn up on your own.” He grumbled as he turned to leave, but the two of you wouldn’t let him.

He was grateful that you didn’t. 

Sirius eventually proposed to you – though beg was likely a more appropriate definition.

“We should get married.” He had said to you late one night as he came back to the bedroom after putting Draco down. 

You lowered your book into your lap as you considered him. “I beg your pardon?”

“We should get married.” He repeated plainly.

Your lip threatened to quirk into a smirk, but you kept your face blank. “And why should we get married?”

Sirius guffawed at you. “Uhm, maybe because we’re in love? And I’m the best and would be the best husband?”

You continued to stare at him.

“Why shouldn’t we get married?” He asked, now beginning to panic.

“I never said we shouldn’t.”

“Then why won’t you marry me?” He shrilled as he moved to kneel at the end of the bed.

“You’re the first thought in my mind when I wake up in the morning and my last thought at night before I fall asleep. Fuck, you make up the majority of my dreams too. Did you know that? Did you know that I go to the Ministry and count down the minutes until I get to see you again? Did you know that when you’re at work, I spend my time thinking about what you’re doing, who you’re talking to, what they’re saying to you and you to them? And not in a stalkery way, I swear. But I just think you’re the coolest fucking person ever and I’m jealous of everyone who gets to listen to you speak when I’m stuck at home or at work. And I watch you with Draco -our sweet boy - and our Godson and the other children and I get fucking giddy thinking that I get to spend the rest of my days with a woman so lovely. So, marry me. Marry me, damnit!”

It was a battle to keep your face straight but by the absolute grace of God you did before saying “Siri, babe, you’re coming off a little desperate.”

There was a brief pause before you got a “you cheeky little minx” and 45 seconds of tickling which turned into kissing which turned into touching which turned into so much more.

You were sticky and satisfied as you both caught your breath, still intertwined with one another when you said, “I will.”

“Hm?”

“I will.” You repeated as you leaned onto your elbow so you could look him in the eyes. “I’ll marry you. Marry me.”

Sirius stared at you in awe before pulling you down into his embrace for a searing kiss which once again turned into so much more. 

And you guys did. Marry each other, that is. It was a beautiful spring day on the grounds of Potter Manor with only your closest family and friends. It was perhaps a touch smaller than what either you or Sirius grew up picturing your wedding to be, but it was so much better than either of you could have ever imagined.

“...I thank my lucky stars every day that I get to love such a wonderful woman. There’s not one person in this world who deserves to know the likes of you, me least of all, but will do everything I can to ensure I get to keep what little light you’re willing to share with me forever. I have already loved you in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor, and in life and in death. There is not one planet in any universe, nor a timeline that exists where my love for you does not. I vow to you that you will never spend a day in this life not being loved by me. Wherever you go, I go; in this life and the next.” Sirius said through his tears. 

With a smile you began your own vows. “Sirius, I have had the absolute pleasure of getting to witness you become the man you are today. It wasn’t always easy or pretty, but I have seen you through it all; the good, the bad, the really bad, and the ugly. And I have loved you through all of it. As I laid dying, I told James that I didn’t regret a single moment of this life with you, and that is still true today. Every moment, all the blood, sweat, and tears, brought us here today - and I would still do all of it again if it meant getting to stand here today by your side. I made a vow that I would find you in our next life and I would love you there too. Well, here I am. I found you. I will always find you.”

Lily, Marlene, and Alice stood by your side, and James, Remus, and Regulus stood by Sirius’ as your magic was bound together, and you were pronounced husband and wife.

Sirius hung the framed parchment that Remus had found in the wooded area where he first met Regulus in his office. The note symbolized your dedication to him, to your friends and family, and your unyielding perseverance. The parchment was later joined by your wedding pictures, drawings that he and Harry had painted back in Grimmauld place as well as pictures Harry and Draco had given him since, and the first ever check he received for his investment in A Marauder’s Map to Books. 

You loved working at Moony’s bookstore; everyday felt like getting to hang out with your best friends even though you pretty much lived with them as well. It was nice to see Remus and Regulus in a setting outside of the parental/guardian role you’d all taken on following the war. You were surprised at first (though you supposed you should have known better) that Remus and Regulus worked really well together – Regulus’ uptight and serious façade was well balanced with Remus’ laidback and jovial personality. Regulus would handle the more difficult customers whilst Remus made sure every customer who came in felt welcome. Things often fell by the wayside or got overlooked when Remus was away due to the moons, and Regulus was quick to pick up the slack. Regulus would often get too caught up in work and forget to stay fed or hydrated, which Remus counteracted by briskly walking past Regulus and placing biscuits and cups of tea brewed exactly to Regulus’ liking before he could refuse. If you noticed Regulus’ cheeks tinge peak and a shy smile grace his lips – you didn’t mention it. 

Draco grew to be a very happy child; you and Sirius couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride every time that boy giggled or laughed. You kept your word and left the Malfoy vaults untouched save twice a year when Narcissa would purchase a gift for Draco on June 5th and December 25th. 

He was such a good son and an even better big brother. 

Draco was the most jealous of Harry when Harry became a big brother to his sister Jasmine Potter. It was hard not to chuckle at how proud the four-and-a-half-year-old was as he bragged about being the ‘bestest big brother’ and watching Draco skulk around the house. 

“I could be a big brother! Really, I could. I’d be so nice and gentle, and I would share all my toys!” He told you and Sirius solemnly as you tucked him in to bed. You assured him he would indeed be a wonderful big brother, but not to worry about it too much as you were sure Lily and James could use two big brothers for their newest addition. 

You both gave him kisses goodnight and closed the door behind you. You’d hardly made it two steps from the door before your husband had you pushed up against the wall. 

“I could be a really good daddy too, you know?” He whispered into your neck before starting to suck on your pulse point.

You couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped your lips. “Are you trying to tell me something?” 

Sirius kissed his way back up your jaw before slotting his lips against yours. “Perhaps we should give the kid what he wants.” He managed between kisses.

You chuckled.

“He gets everything he wants already, Siri.” You whispered back as you pulled his body flush with yours.

“What about me, hm?”

You pulled your head back to search his face. “Do you want another baby, Sirius?”

Sirius’ pupils seemed to blow wide at the sentiment. “I don’t so much want a baby as I want your baby, my love.” He whispered reverently.

Your restraint snapped and you launched yourself at him. He caught you as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom.  

Approximately ten months later you gave birth to your daughter Aurora Black.

September 1st, Kings Cross Station

“Merlin’s saggy balls, how do you – for fuck sa– oh, got it!” Sirius could be heard behind you as he fought with the pram. 

“Would you watch your mouth?” Lily muttered.

“Yeah Pads, watch your fuckin’ mouth!” James loudly announced causing other parents to look over at the absolute freak show that was the Potter & Black family’s stepping onto Platform 9 ¾.

“Sorry.” You offered with a quiet smile to a particularly perturbed looking couple as they grabbed their smarmy looking child and ushered him away from the likes of you. “Wankers.” You muttered as they hobbled off.

“Who’s a wanker, mum?” Draco asked as he slid up beside you. The rotten child knew he wasn’t supposed to use such language but couldn’t pass the chance at getting to repeat your nasty comment.

“Presently, it’s you.” You commented while teasingly narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Oi, leave your poor mum alone! You’re buggering off to Hogwarts and leaving her with the likes of me for the next ten months.” Sirius said as he (finally) made his way to you with the pram in tow. The three-year-old twins seemed none the wiser that they just nearly got folded into the damned thing and thrown onto the tracks in a fit of rage. 

“My deepest condolences during this trying time.” Draco offered you severely.

Sirius scoffed and you laughed as you pulled him into an embrace. You were waiting for the day he pushed you away because hugging your mom goodbye in front of your friends was embarrassing. But today, you relished in the feeling of your first child letting you hold him tight.

“I’m so proud of you, Draco.” You murmured into his platinum hair.

“Thank you, mum.” He responded quietly. 

“Draco! Harry! Over here!” The sound of Hermione Granger interrupted your hug as Draco turned to wave at his friends. 

“Be good kid, okay? Look out for your sister?” Sirius asked as he pulled Draco into his own embrace.

“’Course, dad. I’m not new here.” He teased as he ruffled Aurora’s hair.

“Draaaccoooo...” She whined in response.

“Go see ‘Mione.” You ordered Draco with one last side hug. Harry and Draco swapped parents and siblings to give their respective goodbyes before heading off to catch up with their friends. 

“Are you ready, Rory?” Jasmine Potter asked your daughter kindly. She was a year above Aurora and was very excited to get the chance to show her younger cousin around the castle. 

Your daughter looked between her cousin and her parents before Sirius spoke up. “Jazz, do you mind giving us a minute?” He asked his Goddaughter.  

Jasmine turned to talk to James and Lily who were busy entertaining Posie and Lyra as you and Sirius bent down to talk to Aurora.

“What’s on your mind, love?” You asked your daughter gently.

Your heart welled as Aurora’s eyes turned glassy.

“I’m not ready.”

Sirius made a cooing sound as he wiped the tears from under her lash line. “What are you most worried about, my little star?”

Aurora sniffled miserably. “What if I’m sorted into the wrong house?”

You and Sirius couldn’t help but rear your head at the comment. Out of all the things you thought would be worrying your daughter on her first day of boarding school, which house she got sorted into was not it.

“Rory, that’s the exciting part baby.” You tried as you rubbed her arm consolingly.

“I get it, Ro, I was worried about which house I was going to be sorted into as well.” Sirius commented.

Aurora rubbed a fist against her eye as she turned to consider her father. “Really?”

Sirius nodded solemnly. “Really. You see, I came from a long line of proud Slytherins. I was supposed to get sorted into that house too, because I was supposed to be just like them. But I couldn’t be like them, I could only be like me. So, I was sorted in Gryffindor, even though my family didn’t like it.” 

“Did you get in trouble?”

Sirius nodded sadly. “I did.”

“But Ro, you know that no matter what house you get sorted into, me and daddy are going to be so, so, so proud of you. And we’ll be proud of you because you’re you, not because you were sorted into Ravenclaw or Gryffindor or Hufflepuff or Slytherin.” You added with a soft smile.

Aurora seemed to consider this. “Well, Harry and Jazzy are in Gryffindor, and Draco is in Slytherin. I’d like to be in one of those I think.”

You nodded at her, but it was Sirius who answered.

“That’d be pretty cool, huh? But listen, I met the most fantastic people in my house even though I knew no one in it when I first got sorted. Uncle Prongs and Uncle Moony were my dormmates for seven years and look at us now! Completely co-dependent and still living together.”

“What is co-dependent?” Aurora asked with furrowed brows.

“Not important. What I’m trying to say is, Rory, you are going to give that hat a run for its money, you know why?” Sirius asked.

Aurora shook her head.

“Because you are your mother’s daughter. And she is the the most loyal, the most cunning, the bravest and the smartest person I know. You’ve been raised by the most spectacular person, and any one of those houses will be lucky to have you. Got it?”

You watched as Rory took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before offering her dad a solid nod.

“Atta girl!” He said as he enveloped her in a hug and kissed her head. “You show that sorting hat who’s boss.” 

Aurora chuckled as she moved to hug you.

“I’m so proud of you, my love.” You said into her hair. She tightened her hold on you before letting go and stepping back.

“I think we’re ready for you, Jazzy.” You called, and the older girl came and took Aurora’s hand as they headed towards Draco and Harry to board the train.

James and Sirius wolf whistled and hollered, waving frantically as they watched the kids walk away. Hermione, Harry and Draco chuckled while Neville and Ron turned beat red at the attention.

You propped Lyra on your hip and the two of you continued to wave as the train pulled away. None of you stopped waving until you couldn’t see your babies anymore.

A sob tore its way through James, and you looked over to see Lily making alarmed eye contact with you as she awkwardly patted his arm and he and Sirius leaned into each other.

“First time?” An older woman asked as she went to walk past you.

“No” was yours and Lily’s chorused response as you peeled your husband away from his best mate and moved him toward the pram where your youngest two sat forgotten. 

“Lord, is it going to be this bad every time we send one of the kids off the first time?”

“It’ll be worse!” Sirius cried emphatically as he fell into your arms, basically crushing poor Lyra who was still sat on your hip. You looked over to Lily hoping for help only to see her in a similar predicament. 

“Sirius Black, at this rate our youngest three won’t ever want to come back to Kings Cross Station.” You muttered as you moved Lyra to your other hip so you could support your husband’s weight.

“Good! Then they’ll never leave me!” 

Your heart twinged as you patted Sirius’ back.

“Siri, look at me.” 

For a moment you thought he might refuse, but he unfolded himself slowly and stood to look at you. 

“This is what we fought for, my love.” You said as you caressed his cheek. “So that our babies could go to Hogwarts and learn and be children and be free and be safe.”

“I still hate it.”

You laughed at his petulance. “Me too, actually. Do you think Hogwarts is hiring? What if we all just move there?”

“Great idea, Vix!” James cheered from beside you, eyes rimmed and cheeks glistening. “Lily flower could work in the infirmary, Padfoot could teach astronomy, you could teach muggle studies, I could teach flying, Moony could teach defence against the dark arts and Regulus could teach potions! It’s perfect!”

Though you had to admit this plan of James’ actually sounded pretty perfect, your attention turned to little Posie falling asleep in Lily’s arms. 

“Why don’t we discuss this more once we get these kiddos down for a nap, hm?”

Sirius found you later sitting in the sunroom with a book in hand. He thought you made the prettiest picture sitting in the soft sun filtering through the leaves of the trees outside, plants surrounding you with your nose buried in a book. So, he took a picture. 

“I wasn’t ready!” You whined with a smile on your face.

“You’re always ready.” He said as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry I was such a mess at the train station today.” He said as he lifted your legs off the loveseat to sit down and replace them atop his lap.

“You don’t have to apologize, Siri.” You said as you tapped him with your book. 

“I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” He commented, his gaze seemed far away as he watched the branches dance in the September breeze.

“You can do that tomorrow.” You whispered back.

A smile graced his face before he turned to look at you. “I love you; did you know? I don’t think I say it enough, but I do; I love you.”

He punctuated his sentence with three loving squeezes of the fat of your thigh.

“Sirius. Every breath I take means ‘I love you’.” You responded and sealed it with a kiss. 

You got an owl from Draco and Aurora later that night.

Aurora was a hat stall.

She was also sorted into the same house as her mum.

Thank you so much for reading! Can't get enough? Check out these CBBH themed one shots, or, feel free to request a one-shot from your faves in this universe!

[deliciousangelfestival]

I Hate It When You're Drunk - 7

Character: bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Summary: A forbidden love between a princess and her bodyguard. They love each other deeply, but their relationship is threatened by the tyrant king's oppressive rule and their differing social statuses.

I Hate It When You're Drunk Series Masterlist

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

In the other room, laughter and excitement filled the air as you and your bridesmaids gathered for the wedding preparations. Your friends, all hopeless romantics, were thrilled for you, knowing how much this day meant.

They huddled around, admiring your wedding dress—an elegant, simple gown adorned with delicate flower embroidery. The white fabric shimmered softly in the light, making you look like a vision of grace.

You wore a crown that once belonged to your mother, a cherished heirloom that your father had handed to you himself. After receiving his permission for this momentous occasion, the bitterness you once held toward him had softened, if only slightly.

As you stood before the mirror, gazing at your reflection, the crown glinted softly in the light, a symbol of the legacy you carried. You couldn’t help but wish that your mother were here with you, guiding you through this pivotal day.

With the international media coverage, a small part of you hoped that wherever she was, she would see the news and know that her daughter was getting married.

“You look stunning,” one of your bridesmaids said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

“Bucky’s going to lose his breath when he sees you,” another chimed in, a playful grin on her face.

“You two are perfect for each other,” someone added, placing a hand on your shoulder. “We’ve all seen the way he looks at you. There’s no doubt in my mind this is exactly how it’s supposed to be.”

Their words were heartfelt, and as they each gave their blessings, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of warmth. Their support made the day even more special, reminding you that you weren’t just marrying Bucky—you were also surrounded by people who truly cared for you and wanted to see you happy.

The wedding became a national holiday, a day of grand celebration and international coverage. Streets were lined with eager spectators as the festivities unfolded in a magnificent parade. Soldiers in gleaming uniforms rode atop powerful horses, their disciplined ranks adding a military grandeur to the occasion.

King Leonard seized the opportunity to showcase the might of Veridian, reminding the world of the nation's strength under his iron rule. As Bucky watched the display, he realized with a sinking feeling that he had truly entered the lion's den.

“We have to go to the church,” said Archer, the Defense Minister of Veridian. With no family of his own, Bucky found himself accompanied by Archer, his father’s old friend and now the closest thing he had to family. The ministry of defense, a symbol of the power Bucky was stepping into, stood by his side.

They climbed into a classic Rolls-Royce, the car gliding through the streets toward the church. The clear windows made Bucky an object of attention, with every pair of eyes in the crowd focused on him. People cheered and waved the flag of the country, their excitement palpable as they awaited the groom’s arrival.

“Wave, Bucky,” Archer prompted.

Bucky waved, but it felt hollow. He was like a goldfish in a glass bowl, exposed and on display for all to see.

“Your father would be proud of you,” Archer remarked.

Bucky could only wish his father were there to see this day.

“Except your mom. She’d be furious that you’re marrying the king’s daughter,” Archer added with a wry smile.

“If she’s still alive, I hope this is enough to bring her back, wherever she is,” Bucky replied, his voice tinged with a longing he couldn’t suppress.

“She’s still alive,” Archer said, his tone suddenly serious.

Bucky’s eyes snapped to Archer’s, disbelief and hope warring within him. “Don’t joke with me,” he said, his voice tight with emotion.

“I know where she is,” Archer responded calmly.

Relief washed over Bucky like a tidal wave, the best news he had heard in years. “Where is she?” he demanded, but then hesitated, glancing around. “Wait, is it safe to talk about this here?”

“There are no bugs in the car, and the driver is one of my people,” Archer reassured him.

Thank God, Bucky thought, grateful that Archer had thought everything through. “So where is she?”

“In an enemy state,” Archer said, pausing before revealing the name. “Thalassa.”

Bucky’s world tilted on its axis. Thalassa—the very mention of the place sent a chill down his spine. King Leonard’s decree was clear: anyone who visited Thalassa would be branded a traitor. His mother had chosen to live in a country that refused to acknowledge Leonard as the rightful ruler.

“I hope you can make a change around here,” Archer said, his words heavy with meaning.

Bucky could only hope, his mind spinning with the revelation and the burden it now placed on his shoulders.

👑👑👑👑👑

Bucky arrived at the church first, stepping into the grand hall that had been meticulously decorated for the royal wedding. The aisles were lined with white roses, and soft golden drapes hung from the high arches, casting a warm, regal glow throughout the space. The scent of fresh flowers mixed with the incense, creating an atmosphere that was both sacred and celebratory.

Diplomatic guests from across the world filled the pews, their attire as varied and ornate as their countries of origin. Bucky, however, recognized none of them. They were not his guests but those of King Leonard, each one a powerful figure in their own right, all there to witness the union under the king's command.

Bucky's attention was momentarily diverted to the seats behind King seat. Cassian and his uncle, Duke Griffin, were seated there, their presence adding another layer of complexity to the scene.

Cassian, who had earlier expressed his disillusionment with the arranged marriage, now sat with a mask of indifference. His eyes occasionally flicked toward Bucky, a mixture of pity and curiosity in his gaze. Beside him, Duke Griffin, an imposing figure with a sharp gaze, remained impassive.

As Bucky stood at the front, feeling the weight of their gazes on him, the doors opened to reveal King Leonard. The entire congregation stood and bowed deeply as the king entered, a silent acknowledgment of his absolute authority. Leonard’s presence commanded the room, his every step echoing through the grand hall.

Before taking his seat, Leonard approached Bucky, his expression unreadable. He placed a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder, a gesture that felt more like a warning than reassurance.

“Your duty is just to make my daughter happy,” Leonard said, his voice low and cold. “I don’t expect anything else from you.”

Bucky didn’t trust himself to speak. He simply nodded, his throat tight, as Leonard withdrew and moved to his place of honor.

A hush fell over the crowd as the master of ceremonies stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the voice echoed through the church, “the bride, Her Royal Highness, the Princess, will now arrive.”

As the church doors opened, the anticipation in the air became palpable. The choir's voices rose in harmony with the music, and the orchestra began playing Canon in D, the notes echoing through the grand hall.

Bucky stood at the altar, his back to the entrance. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a drum of nervous energy that reverberated through his entire being. He knew the moment had come, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn around just yet. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to steady himself, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

As you entered the church, the soft rustle of your gown mixed with the melodious strains of Canon in D, creating a symphony that enveloped you. Each step felt like you were walking through a dream, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves.

The grandeur of the church overwhelmed you—the lavish decorations, the rows of esteemed diplomatic guests, and the sea of faces turned in anticipation. But amidst the opulence, your focus was solely on Bucky. He was the reason for every flutter in your chest, every tremor in your hands.

Your bouquet of fresh flowers felt like a lifeline, grounding you amidst the storm of emotions. The crown your father had gifted you, a delicate piece of history, seemed to weigh heavier now. It was a reminder of your lineage and the monumental step you were about to take.

The aisle stretched before you, a path leading to your future. With every step, you could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on you. Despite the nerves and the overwhelming feeling that this was all too surreal, a smile found its way to your lips. You couldn’t believe it—after everything you’d been through, you were finally here, marrying the man you loved.

King Leonard, standing beside you, took a firm but reassuring grip on your arm. His presence was both a comfort and a reminder of the responsibility and expectation that came with this union. As he guided you down the aisle, the weight of the moment was palpable. His role was to lead you to Bucky, ensuring that you were united in front of everyone who mattered.

As you reached the midpoint of the aisle, you looked up at him with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Father."

Leonard's gaze softened slightly, though his voice remained steady. "If he ever makes you cry or hurts you, just tell me."

You met his eyes with unwavering confidence. "That will never happen."

As you walked closer, Bucky finally found the courage to turn around. The sight of you took his breath away. You looked like a vision, an ethereal presence that made his heart skip a beat. His chest tightened with a mix of love and fear, knowing that this was it—the moment that would change both your lives forever.

The ceremony began, and the priest’s voice filled the air with solemnity and grace. He spoke of love, commitment, and the vows you were about to take. The words washed over you both, their weight sinking deep into your hearts. Bucky glanced at you, his heart pounding, as the priest asked him the most important question of his life.

"Do you, James Buchanan Barnes, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, till death do you part?"

Bucky’s voice was steady, though he felt anything but. "I do."

The priest then turned to you, and you felt a wave of emotions—love, fear, excitement—crash over you.

"And do you, Princess, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, till death do you part?"

With a voice filled with certainty and love, you answered, "I do."

The priest smiled warmly and announced, "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Bucky reached up to lift your veil, his hands trembling slightly. As he finally revealed your face, your smile met his, a beacon of pure joy that made his heart race.

Without waiting for the priest to instruct you, Bucky leaned in and kissed you. The spontaneous, heartfelt gesture drew laughter and applause from the guests, filling the church with a warmth that melted away any lingering tension.

Hand in hand, you and Bucky turned to face the guests, but first, you both bowed deeply to the king.

King Leonard, with a measured smile, stepped forward. "Welcome to the family, James."

Bucky met the king's gaze, doing his best to suppress the unease bubbling beneath the surface. "It's an honor, Your Majesty."

With the formalities complete, you both began the procession down the aisle, greeting guests as you went. Outside the church, the crowds had gathered, their cheers erupting as you stepped out. The sight of you in your beautiful white dress and Bucky in his military uniform was like something out of a fairy tale. The people waved flags and called out well-wishes, celebrating what seemed to be the happiest day of your life.

But Bucky couldn’t shake the gnawing fear that clung to him. The memory of the blood-red message burned in his mind, making him feel vulnerable in the open space. As much as he tried to keep up appearances, the urge to get inside, away from prying eyes, was overwhelming.

Thankfully, the ornate carriage that awaited you both was fitted with bulletproof glass, offering a sense of security that Bucky desperately needed. Once inside, you beamed with happiness, the joy of the day radiating from you.

"Can you believe it, Bucky? We’re finally married!" you said, your voice bubbling with excitement as you squeezed his hand.

Bucky forced a smile, trying to match your enthusiasm. "Yeah… finally."

You leaned closer to him, your eyes sparkling. "I knew this day would be perfect, but I never imagined it would feel this incredible."

Bucky nodded, his mind racing. "It’s everything you deserved."

You noticed a hint of something in his voice—a flicker of doubt, perhaps—but dismissed it, too wrapped up in the joy of the moment to let it linger.

As the carriage began its journey back to the castle, you continued talking about the day, the guests, and the future that lay ahead. Bucky listened, his hand still holding yours, but his thoughts were elsewhere, his eyes flicking nervously toward the bulletproof windows. The carriage offered safety, but the dread in his heart remained.

Unaware of the storm brewing inside him, you smiled, resting your head on his shoulder, content in the belief that this was the start of your happily ever after.

👑👑👑👑👑👑

Bucky had just finished changing into a suit when he stepped out of the room, adjusting his tie. The weight of the day was pressing down on him, but he was determined to keep it together for your sake. As he walked into the hallway, he was suddenly shoved back, his shoulder slamming into the wall. The shock of the impact made him blink, and when his eyes focused, he felt as if he were seeing a ghost.

"Lucas?" Bucky's voice wavered in disbelief.

The man before him was a wreck—a shadow of the comrade he once knew. Lucas’s face was gaunt, his eyes bloodshot and wild, his clothes disheveled like he had crawled out from the depths of hell. His hands trembled, and in one of them, a gun was pointed directly at Bucky's chest.

"You… you fucking traitor!" Lucas spat the words with venom, his voice cracking under the weight of betrayal. "We trusted you! Our comrades… our friends… and you sold us out to that monster!"

Bucky raised his hands slowly, trying to calm his friend. "Lucas, listen to me—"

"Shut up!" Lucas’s voice was a shriek, desperate and unhinged. He shook his head, his grip on the gun tightening. "You don’t get to talk! Do you know what they did to us? What they did to me?"

"I know, and I’m going to make things right," Bucky said, his voice low, trying to keep it steady even as his heart raced. "But killing me won’t change what happened."

"You don’t get it, do you? It’s too late! It’s all too fucking late!" Lucas’s eyes were filled with rage and sorrow, a man broken by unimaginable horrors. He took a step closer, the barrel of the gun trembling but still aimed squarely at Bucky.

Bucky could see Lucas was beyond reason, his mind fractured by the torment he had endured. Every second felt like an eternity as the gun wavered, Lucas’s finger twitching on the trigger. The fear was real, but Bucky couldn’t let it control him.

"Lucas, please," Bucky’s voice was almost a whisper. "I swear, I didn’t betray you. We can fix this together—"

A gunshot rang out, the sound echoing through the hall like a death knell. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the searing pain of a bullet tearing into him. But nothing came. No pain, no darkness. He opened his eyes, and the sight before him made his breath catch in his throat.

Lucas stood there, his eyes wide with shock, blood seeping through his shirt from a wound in his chest. He staggered, his grip on the gun loosening. Bucky instinctively reached out, catching Lucas before he could collapse to the floor.

"It… it wasn’t you. I’m… Avenge us," Lucas choked out, blood bubbling up in his mouth as he spoke.

"Don’t speak, Lucas. I’ll get help," Bucky said, his voice breaking as he tried to hold back the tears. He could feel the life draining out of his friend, the warmth leaving his body.

"It’s… too late," Lucas whispered, his voice barely audible now.

Bucky looked up, desperation and anger swirling in his chest, and that’s when he saw him—Isaac. The man he thought was dead, standing there as if nothing had happened. Isaac was clean, composed, his hair neatly combed, and his suit pristine. He looked every bit the part of someone who had just stepped out of a palace, not a prison.

"You," Bucky growled, his voice filled with fury as he held Lucas’s lifeless body. "It was you."

Isaac’s lips curled into a cold smile. He bowed his head slightly, a mockery of respect. "From now on, I serve you, Your Highness."

"You fucking traitor!" Bucky’s voice was a roar of pain and anger. He wanted nothing more than to rip Isaac apart, to make him pay for everything he had done.

"Oh, what a good job youdid on your first day." A cold, authoritative voice cut through the tension.

Bucky looked up to see King Leonard, his presence commanding the room. The king walked in, seemingly oblivious to the blood-stained scene before him, as if Lucas's dying body was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Isaac straightened up and greeted the king with a formal nod. "It’s my duty, sir."

King Leonard smiled, his gaze shifting to Bucky, who was still cradling Lucas’s lifeless form. "Let me introduce you to the new head of the castle guard, Isaac."

Bucky’s anger simmered just below the surface, his hands clenched into fists. Isaac, the man who had betrayed them all, was now standing here with the king’s blessing. This was no longer just a political game—this was personal.

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Author Note: If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on : Ko-fi 🙏🏻please, please please.

[sitp-recs]

Hello!! Thank you for this blog really its been so lovely reading fics from the master list I've discovered drarry because of you! My favorite "trope" so far is draco who's struggling a lot but manages to preservere and even find humour in the worst situations. I find his character that way truly inspiring. Do some fics like that come to mind? I'd love to hear your recommendations and to read more fics like this

Hi anon! Welcome to Drarry, I’m so happy to see you enjoying the lists 💜 I love a struggling Draco who’s still proud and snarky and a little shit, that’s such a great take on the trope! Here are some recs focused on Draco’s resilience and perseverance. You can also check GallaPlacidia’s archive, who usually explores this trope in a sweet and light-hearted way. And if I can add something on the angstier side, Take A Chance On Me by @mintawasalreadytaken and Winner Takes It All by @skeptiquewrites are two underrated masterpieces among my top favorite down & out Draco fics. I’ll come back to add more titles as they come to mind. Enjoy!

Rebuilding Draco Malfoy by khasael (E, 11k)

Draco wants to do something to get his life back on track, but no-one seems to be taking him seriously – until he finds himself in an Auror training session led by Harry Potter.

The Year of Non-Magical Thinking by whiskyandwildflowers (E, 13k)

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Potter. I'll think of something. So will you. But this is my journey to self-actualization," Draco managed to smirk. "You can fuck off and get your own."

Open For Repairs by @drarrytrash (M, 35k)

After the war, Draco works at a tv repair shop and Harry breaks things.

The Vanishing Department by @dictacontrion (E, 47k)

The things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, even if that involves a lot more form-filling, bickering, covert glancing, miscommunication, and flying furniture than we might expect.

Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 47k)

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.” “What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

Kept in Cages by @sweet-s0rr0w, @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 77k)

Deep in the heart of the Ministry lies the Beast Division: a hidden room where ancient beasts roam, and winged creatures soar, and grumpy giant ferrets eat all your biscuits unless you keep them well hidden. Draco Malfoy would know – he’s been working there for five years now, after all.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (T, 103k)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy by DorthyAnn (E, WIP)

Draco lost his home and the only society he knew after the war. He ended up living in the muggle world, making new friends and new connections and maybe some sort of peace. Even if that peace was usually found at the bottom of a bottle. It was enough for him. He was content to just exist. Then Harry Potter decided to ruin everything.

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 11

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

guys im running out of gifs to use ffs

despite that, HELLO!! i am more than 100% certain that you adorable feral little cretins are going to love this chapter holy fk. like i'm actually so excited to see your reactions/comments LOLL

i apologise for the long, long wait, however i wanted to perfect this part, it was really important that i did, otherwise it would be a waste, and kind of cringe. i won't keep you any longer <3

thank you for reading, i hope you enjoy this!! and again, thank you soooo much for all your replies and reblogs and likes they just make me smile all the time, i really cannot believe that people like this, i'm still flabbergasted.

warnings: 18+ further down, minors DNI after the big red *'s. i also put a sign to say where it ends if you're not comfortable reading such things!

if i was any good at coding i'd cover it up, you know how people do on discord, like that spoiler thing. but alas, i am but a technophobe.

(this song is very important during that certain scene so if you will, please listen to it as you read <;3)

onwards and upwards...

Severus stood beside Dumbledore, his hands hanging at his sides, fingers fidgeting thoughtfully at the seams of his his black slacks. Before he was able to speak a reply to the Headmaster, a voice he had hoped he'd never hear again pierced the blanketed silence in the Great Hall. For a moment, both his heart and stomach dropped as he turned his head toward the irritating voice, jaw clenching almost immediately.

"Y/N!" None other than Benjamin Bluewater had called out, his ridiculously well-groomed hair bouncing as he jogged towards you. Severus felt a burning blaze of rage prickle his skin as his eyes observed how Bluewater embraced your rigid form, clearly in shock at his sudden appearance. What the hell was he doing here?

"Ben-" Severus heard you gasp as Bluewater pulled away from you, his hands flying up to cradle your cheeks intimately. Something Severus had done less than an hour ago. The jealousy that was raging inside of Snape was lethal, and he was desperately fighting the urge to rip you from Bluewater's slimy grasp and tuck you within the safe haven of his arms.

Your fearful eyes met Snape's icy ones, setting a kaleidoscope of butterflies free in his stomach. He could tell you were quietly begging him for help, however, he refused to get involved. The last thing he wanted to do was seem suspicious and perhaps trigger an unnecessary reaction from Bluewater. Snape remembered how volatile the boy could be, he served enough detentions with him. In fact, that was one thing that Severus was worried about. He wasn't sure if you knew about his bad temper.

"Are you alright? I came at once when I heard about Black getting into Hogwarts." Bluewater said, his overly-concerned voice dripping with worry. Something didn't sit right with Severus as he watched the two of you. Why didn't Bluewater visit when you had been attacked by a dementor? How does that not warrant a visit but this does? A deep, frustrated sigh left Snape's nose as Ben's thumbs brushed against the apples of your cheeks. Your hands reluctantly rose to sit atop of his forearms, silently soothing his worries.

"Wha-what are you... how...?" You stuttered, cheeks ablaze. You had to take a moment to compose yourself, and it didn't help that Severus's fiery eyes were burning holes into you. Inhaling slowly, you spoke again. "What are you doing here? How did you even get in?"

"Well, it helps when you work at the Ministry of Magic," Bluewater shrugged, a proud, smug smirk teasing his lips. His hands fell from your cheeks and settled on your waist, squeezing you a tad. You tensed up again as you glanced at Severus, your heart going a million miles an hour. Bluewater frowned as he followed your eyes, a flash of surprise crossing his features as he finally noticed the two of you weren't alone. "Erm... Headmaster, Professor... Snape." He greeted awkwardly, offering a nod. Snape wasn't keen on acknowledging him, however, Dumbledore kept it polite, smiling at the boy.

"A lovely surprise, Mr Bluewater." Dumbledore said. It had sounded sarcastic, but that was unintentional.

Severus stared at Bluewater with cold eyes, his gaze slowly falling to where his hands sat comfortably on your waist, taunting him. His mouth twitched bitterly. "How you've grown, Mr Bluewater," Snape commented slyly, his sharp eyes flicking back up to meet Bluewater's. "It feels like only yesterday you were causing chaos here at Hogwarts. More specifically in my classroom." He drawled, eyes narrowing in contempt.

An incredulous huff slipped from Bluewater's nose and a sarcastic grin broke out on his face; his grip on your waist tightening. The jealous fire in Severus exploded. Clearly, there was unresolved conflict between these two.

"I see you've remained the same, Snape." He quipped sharply, tongue like a sword. Severus turned his back to you and Bluewater, his shoulders stiffening as he muttered something to Dumbledore.

There was an awkward silence that fell upon the four of you.

You turned to Ben, keeping your voice low. "Look, I think it's best if you leave." You muttered, an uncomfortable expression slipping onto your face. You nibbled on your bottom lip.

"I'm not leaving until I know where Black is, I need to keep you safe." Ben laughed dryly, his eyes narrowing at you in disbelief. Oh no, no-no-no. He had to leave, there was no way he could stay.

"I'm perfectly safe here," you attempted to reassure him, "I'm surrounded by some of the most talented witches and wizards to ever exist, Ben." An incredulous chuckle fell from your lips as you spoke, a little surprised that he deemed Hogwarts unsafe. How could it be unsafe when Dumbledore was here? Despite that, you couldn't risk him noticing the tension between you and Snape, it wouldn't look good on either of you.

He looked at you with a stiff expression, his gaze flicking to where Snape and Dumbledore stood, eyes hardening as he stared. You glanced away awkwardly.

"I'll stay here until I deem it so, Y/N." Ben said rather sternly, making your brows shoot up in shock. Since when was he like this? This was not the Ben you knew.

"Sorry?" You choked.

"The Ministry gets the final say, irregardless of what you or Hogwarts thinks." Ben tilted his head at you as he stared down at you. "I'm staying." His serious tone of voice made you back down and nod, your lips pursed. There was nothing you could say or do to change his mind.

Shit.

Shit, indeed.

Two knocks sounded at Snape's door, and he audibly sighed, a little vexed that someone had chosen to come and bother him when he'd just settled down - his raging jealousy had finally subdided after two hours of brooding in his office.

"Come in." Snape grunted from his desk, piles of parchment and books surrounding him messily. Usually he was neat, organised - but tonight was rather exasperating. He just about managed to watch another man with his hands all over you.

"Severus," Minerva McGonagall's voice made Snape's head snap up, a startled look adopting his features. He definitely was not expecting the Head of Gryffindor House to be knocking at his door. "I'm sorry to impede, however, I wanted to chat with you. Regarding Y/N." She sighed, her wrinkled lips pouting. His body suddenly felt heavier.

"What about Professor L/N?" Severus asked curtly, looking back down at the pile of assignments in front of him like he had no interest in the subject.

"I wasn't born yesterday, Severus," Minerva said, a stern look taking hold of her face. Snape's jaw ticked, his fingers stiffening in irritation. He sighed and glanced back up at the older witch, waiting for her to continue her lecture. "You need to be careful. She's just a girl." She said softly and stepped forwards a tad, linking her fingers together in front. Why was he getting lectured when he's been the one trying to push you away? Well, he was. Now, all he wanted to do was pull you close to him.

"This is no concern of yours,  Minerva." Severus's brows furrowed harshly, his voice clipped and cold. Minerva's eyes narrowed; his tone rubbing her the wrong way.

"It concerns me when it starts to affect my colleagues." Minerva retorted, her patience wearing thin. She knew this was going to be a hard conversation, especially with someone like Severus. "I just want you to consider things before you cross that line, Severus. This isn't... wise."

It isn't wise? Well, who would've thought that? Not me, apparently, Severus growled in his mind, sighing heavily through his nostrils as he stared at Minerva.

"You think I don't know that?" Severus groaned, shutting his eyes as he reached up to massage his temples. He felt a headache coming on; all this stress wasn't good for him.

There was several seconds of quiet before Minerva spoke again, voice soft. "Do you care for her?"

He kept silent once again.

Minerva felt for Severus, she knew what it was like to care for someone and to have to push them away. In fact, it felt horribly and hauntingly familiar. This was like a walk down memory lane for her. Her head tilted slightly, her eyes softening as she stared at the Potions Master who had his eyes glued to his desk, palms splayed out atop of it as he intensely read through an essay. "I do not want your pity, Minerva," Severus hissed, his head snapping up, a face full of anger, "I have walked down this road before, and I know how it ends. So please, save your sorry for someone else."

Minerva was so used to Snape's flick-of-a-switch emotions that she hardly flinched at his sudden outburst. "Alright." A soft sigh left her as she glanced away from him, her fingers flexing. There was nothing left to say, she knew that Severus knew the risks with you. And you knew the risks with him. For now, she could only let things play out, she wasn't going to play God. If the two of you wanted to do it, who was she to stop it?

"I have a lot of work to complete." Severus grunted, his shoulders hunching up as he sat closer to his desk, burying his nose further into the parchment. Minerva exhaled softly through her nostrils and her lips pouted together again. She blinked, turning around to leave.

As her fingers grasped the rickety door handle, she looked over her shoulder at Snape. "Should you and Y/N choose to take such a risk, Severus," she began, earning another exhausted sigh from him, "don't break her heart. She doesn't deserve to go through that pain. Not at such a young age."

Severus's eyes faltered a tad as he glazed over the messy handwriting laced upon the parchment sat in front of him, as if it were goading him. His breath hitched slightly at her words. Minerva had a point. A very, irritatingly valid point. Severus cared for you - a lot. However, now he found himself questioning whether it was enough - whether he was enough for you. He couldn't pour his whole self into a relationship with you if it wasn't that - his whole self. Were you better off with Bluewater? He could probably treat you better than Severus ever could. Bluewater was young, handsome, somewhat smart... he also had a very good job at the Ministry... Severus was but a teacher, and he was old. Why would you ever settle for someone like him when a boy like Bluewater existed?

The click of his door told him that Minerva had left. Severus buried his face in his hands, his heart twisting and knotting itself as it yearned for you.

Rolling over in your bed, your unwearied eyes skimmed your darkened room, landing on the clock that was hung on the wall. Almost eleven o'clock at night. Ben stirred beside you, the bed creaking and groaning as he shuffled to right, away from you, burying his cheek in the pillow. You glanced at him and sighed, your mind wandering to the thought of Severus. You wondered what he was doing right now. Was he awake or asleep? No, he was definitely awake, that man never slept.

Severus.

Gods, you adored that man. You weren't exactly sure what it was that drew you to him, but perhaps it was just his aura; it was so dark, mysterious. The way the two of you bantered so easily, the conversation flowed like a river and it felt natural, whereas, with Ben... it was... well, it just felt artificial - forced, almost. It wasn't a secret that the chemistry and tension between you and Severus was incredibly palpable - even Minerva had noticed, and suddenly that made you panic - what if Ben notices? Other teachers? The students had even noticed last year when Severus had helped you up the steps when duelling Lockhart. He won't notice, will he? No, he won't be here long enough to.

Hopefully.

You rolled over in your bed again and noticed that Ben had turned back towards you, so the two of you were face to face now. You tucked your hands up and underneath your chin, allowing yourself to stare at his features in the dark. As you laid there, staring, breathing soft and slow, your heart skipped a beat as he shifted slightly; the shadow that was cast against his face suddenly transforming him intosomeone else. Suddenly, he'd grown long, obisidian black hair that framed his face perfectly, his basic nose had become hooked and prominent, his cheekbones turned more defined.

You sucked in a sharp, yet soft breath - careful to keep quiet so you didn't wake Ben - your skin prickling with goosebumps. Was this how hung up you were on Severus? So much so that if you stared too long at someone, they'd turn into him?

Your hand slowly rose to drag itself against your face. Glancing at the clock again, you knew you weren't falling asleep any time soon. You'd been laid there for at least two or so hours, tossing and turning, begging for your brain to shut off so you could perhaps get some sort of shut-eye. So, you chose to get out of bed. Flipping open the duvet, the biting cold of your room enveloped you; a chill shooting down your figure. You shivered slightly as you sat up and twisted yourself on your bum so your legs hung down over the side of the bed. It creaked slightly as you leant forwards to put your slippers on, prompting you to quickly glance behind you to check if it woke Ben - thankfully, it didn't. With a quick exhale of relief, you spun stepped out of bed and padded quietly over to your sofa where your favourite comfy, deep green cardigan was resting over the arm of it.

You picked it up and slipped it on, wrapping the warm, soft and cosy garment around yourself. Headed towards your door, you threw once last look at Ben and clicked open your door, shutting it calmly, making your way down to the one place you only wanted to go at this time of night.

The mossy, damp smell of the dungeons invaded your nostrils angrily, almost making you cough. You forgot how bad the smell could get down here during the autumn and winter months. The cool chill seeped through your wool cardigan, making you pull it tighter against your frame, hurriedly trying to keep every bit of warmth around you before it escaped.

As you neared that certain door, you lingered by it, raising your knuckles hesitantly.

With a stern sigh, you knocked, and awaited his usual grunt of acknowledgement.

"Come in." Came an annoyed tone from the inside just as you expected. You bit the inside of your cheek as you creaked open the door and slipped inside.

"Erm, hi," You squeaked out, closing the door shut behind you and pressing your back against it, staring awkwardly at Severus, who was still sat behind his desk, head down. "What are you doing up so late?" The sound of your voice made him look up, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"I could ask you the same thing, Miss L/N," Severus mused. You couldn't help but smile coyly at him, padding forwards to move closer, your skin tingling with anticipation. "So, what brings you here?" Severus asked, his voice curious, yet there was also a hint of coldness to it. You assumed it was because he was tired - or at least hoped it was that.

"I couldn't sleep." You hummed, folding your arms against your body, the silk skirt of your yellow nightdress shimmering in the low, amber light. Severus found himself glimpsing down at your garment; the sheen of the smooth, rich fabric catching his attention. Your cheeks suddenly simmered from the way his eyes glazed over you.

He looked back up at you. "So, you chose to bother me instead?" Severus quirked a brow.

"Precisely." You smiled bashfully, a quiet laugh slipping from your mouth as you rocked back and forth on your heels, your eyes leaving his to glance nervously around his gloomy classroom.

"How lucky I am." He said sarcastically, leaning back in his chair. Your smile stayed on your face as you rolled your eyes, stomach flipping at his voice.

"It feels weird that almost a year ago, we were in here, brewing that Mandrake potion together." You commented as your eyes fell on the exact desk the two of you had stood at.

Severus's eyes followed yours. "Indeed," he spoke, gazing back at you as you were distracted, taking a moment to admire you. His heart skipped a beat as the corners of your lips quirked upwards into another sheepish smile. Though, he soon felt indifferent to it as the thought of Bluewater slipped into his mind. "That was also the time we spoke about... your friend." Severus added, tutting at the end as if he had to force himself to spit that word out.

"Oh, right, yeah," you said awkwardly, clearing your throat, "you two still seem to absolutely despise each other." You looked at Severus, a rush of butterflies surging through you as you found his inquisitive eyes already glued to you.

Severus only grunted in response, clearly unwilling to talk about Ben. His body stiffened and his eyes had hardened. "Who would have thought that he'd come back to haunt me later on." He huffed, voice soaked in sarcasm. You had to force yourself to keep a straight face, unsure of how he'd react if a smile broke out on your face. You didn't exactly want to get into an argument right now. "I was foolish to think that he'd had enough causing me grief every single period that we shared."

"He was just a boy back then." An amused hum left your lips, though Severus didn't share the same outlook. His face had become stony again, unfeeling.

"He is still a boy now." Severus spat, like the idea of Ben was poison in his mouth. "He's young, barely twenty-three. He has a lot to learn."

"Am I just a girl to you, then?" You tilted your head at Severus, a tiny smile picking at the corner of your lips. You were twenty-two, almost twenty-three - a whole lot younger than Severus.

He stayed silent for a moment, staring at you, studying your gleeful little face. You suddenly felt a little vulnerable and so you averted your eyes to the ground, your face hot and embarrassed.

"Far from it." He sighed, eyes still glued on you. No, you were so much more to him than you could imagine. He couldn't tell you that though. Not when you had a chance at true happiness with someone that suited you better than an old, ugly git such as himself. "You're a grown woman, you've proven that." His reply had you shocked. You were not expecting such a response, in fact, you were actually expecting a dig, or even a petty insult. Your stomach felt a little heavier as you frowned at him, your eyes gently and slowly dissecting his worn features.

"Oh?" Your voice slipped up an octave as you were caught a little off-guard. "What, err, makes you say that?"

"I don't think I need to explain my reasoning. You're an intelligent woman, no need to spoon-feed you." Severus said simply with a slow blink, his glittering black eyes staring into yours, prompting your cheeks to burn even hotter. You forgot how beautifully hypnotising those two pools of inky-black were as you stared into them, almost losing yourself again.

"It feels weird to hear you compliment me." A gentle laugh left your lips. Severus's own lips tugged upwards slightly, the smallest hint of a smile appearing on his usually-cold face. A comfortable, yet partially awkward silence hung in the air for a moment. You stepped forwards once more, shuffling closer to Severus's desk, almost a foot away from him now. You looked down at the piles of assignments in front of him, curious. "May I?" You asked quietly, gesturing to them. He nodded.

You picked one up and began to read.

'Amortentia is the strongest known love potion in the world. Amor is a Latin word meaning ''Love'', it is also the name of the Roman goddess of love. ''Tentia'' is the Latin for ''held''. It makes the drinker become infatuated and obsessed.'

"I remember this," you smiled, eyes still glued to the parchment, "fourth years, correct?" You looked back to Severus, who was currently staring at you with such soft eyes that you almost melted right on the spot. You had to clear your throat to attempt to compose yourself, though it was truly in vain. It hadn't helped.

"Correct." He muttered, still staring at you, inducing a shiver of goosebumps to erupt on your skin. Your breath hitched slightly as you gripped the parchment tighter, never breaking contact with his eyes. A sharp pain suddenly shot through your finger.

"Ouch," You gasped, the essay falling to the ground as you let go of it, rushing to grab your injured finger. Severus's brows furrowed at you.

"Are you alright?" He cast a glimpse at your finger that you were now squeezing tight, a tiny spot of blood beginning to dribble down it.

"Mhm, just a cut, I think I accidentally cut myself on something that was stuck to the paper." You laughed awkwardly, a little embarrassed as you flipped it over to see a shard of glass stuck to it in a sticky substance. You placed the parchment back onto his desk and looked down at your finger. A scarlet liquid was beginning to ooze out, and fast. You exhaled, feeling a little woozy. Blood was never your strong suit - as a matter of fact, you hated it. The sight of it always made you feel so lightheaded.

Severus noticed your unusual behaviour and quickly rose from his seat, rushing to your side. "Let me," He sighed softly, his hands taking ahold of yours, an electric jolt shooting through you. Your breath hitched once more as you glanced up at him, your wide, doe-like eyes meeting his sparkling obsidian ones. Severus felt like he couldn't breathe for a moment. He was trapped in your eyes, the buzz filling his body up like a drug. You drew him in so easily, and it didn't help that you were excruiatingly even more beautiful up close. The moonlight did you no justice in that greenhouse.

Forcing himself to tear his eyes from yours, he reluctantly looked back down to your injured finger, retrieving his wand from his sleeve. The moment he'd taken your hand in his, his mind went insane. There was no other feeling like it. Merlin, he wished he could experience that moment all over again.

"Does it hurt?" He asked, voice quiet, aiming the tip of his wand over the cut. You hadn't looked away from him once.

"No." You whispered. Severus's head shot up, his worried eyes meeting yours instantly. A warmth spread throughout his body, engulfing him. The two of you were so close, sheer milimetres apart. So close that if one of you leaned forwards even the tiniest amount, the tips of your noses could touch. He needed to stop getting himself into these situations with you, he wasn't going to get over you if you kept ending up inches apart.

His hot breath was on familiar territory again, tickling your pink cheeks, caressing your jaw. Like you were pulled forwards, you found yourself gradually leaning toward him with parted lips, testing the water as you brushed the tip of your nose against his larger one; soft eyes flicking between his lips and his two pools of black. You hesitated, waiting for Severus to respond, your heart thundering against your ribs like a starved lion locked within a cage.

His wand-holding hand faltered slightly, the tip tickling your palm as it grazed your skin; your creeping presence sending his own heart racing. A soft gasp left you as it touched your hand. Severus's mind was fighting desperately for him to pull away, to save you and him the heartache. Perhaps months ago, he'd listen. However, having you so close to him, so vulnerable and soft-looking, he couldn't help himself. Against the wishes of his mind, he tipped his head forwards with half-lidded eyes, nudging the side of your nose with his. Every bone in his body was screaming at him to pull away, to push you away to spare his heart. He knew he wouldn't be able to deal with the aftermath if you suddenly decided one day that he wasn't enough for you anymore. However, he decided that you were entirely worth the risk in this current moment.

You swallowed and allowed a hand to slip up onto his chest, your fingers splaying out slightly across the broad area. With a slow, controlled inhale, your eyes fluttered open to look up at his through your lashes. His tongue poked out sheepishly, wetting his lips as the two of you stared at one another, waiting for the other to make the first move.

He shuffled forwards once more, your lids fluttering shut as Severus pressed a soft and slow kiss against your lips. It was gentle, sweet and reserved. Tender, tickling you like butterfly wings. A warmth bloomed in your chest and your body leaned in instinctively towards his, silently begging him for more. As Severus pulled away, your eyes were still shut.

"Kiss me again," you whispered, "please."

The last word was all the encouragement he needed from you.

Severus leaned in once more, pressing another gentle kiss against your lips, another buzz of electrifying warmth sweeping through the two of you. It suddenly felt as if the world had stopped turning, like you'd been shot into another dimension as Severus held you close, his cool skin a great contrast against your burning skin. Your shallow breaths hitched once more as he sheathed his wand back up his sleeve, a hand coming to rest tenderly against your cheek; cradling your face like it was the most precious thing in the world as he kissed you. A part of you was melting at how gentle and soft he was being with you, and the other, wilder part was begging him to deepen the kiss; to just take control of you and show you how much you truly meant to him.

Your cardigan had slipped off of your shoulder as you leaned into his tender touch, exposing your skin to the chilly, damp air of his classroom sending a shivering chill through your body. Your other hand quickly snaked up his strong chest to meet your opposing one. After a moment, they found themselves nestled around his neck, a speck of blood staining his white collar from your finger as you grazed past it. Severus's other hand swiftly made its way to your waist and pulled you close, his body desperate to become drunk in your warmth once more. A soft moan bubbled in your throat as Severus peppered gentle kisses against you, pleading him to go further.

Almost immediately, he caved at the sound of you, his fingers digging into your clothed-flesh, any feeling of guilt fleeing from your body. Gods, you were so wrong, Ben was nothing compared to Severus. Ben never made you feel an ounce of the way that he did - you couldn't remember a time where Ben had touched your body the way he did, nor a time where Ben had kissed your lips as he did.

The two of you had become lost within each other as you made out sloppily in his classroom, his hands gripping you so deeply that the worries of Severus leaving bruises upon your supple skin had vanished from your mind. In fact, deep down, you were hoping he did. The way his hands held your body was heavenly, other-worldly.

You were a little embarrassed at how easily you folded with this man.

Severus's current state of mind was the total opposite of yours. In his head, all he heard was the constant chant of something telling him to stop. He pushed past it, drowning the voices out with harsher kisses, forcefully grabbing you tighter, pulling another moan from your lips. His conversation with Minerva from earlier began to rear its head within his own, torturing him. His stomach twisted awfully, and suddenly there was a bad taste in his mouth.

What the hell was he doing? You were seeing someone.

You were seeing someone.

Is this how pathetic and utterly sad he was? That he immediately latched onto you because he finally felt appreciated, wanted? For once, he didn't feel like a burden to the world. He felt validated, desired, perhaps even loved - everything he had ever wanted when he was younger. Your soft touches sent him spiralling, and he couldn't escape this maze of uncertainty. Did you truly feel something for him or was this some sort of sick, twisted fantasy you had? Were you just taking advantage of him? Was he so easy to be manipulated? He hoped not, he'd worked incredibly hard to get ahold of his emotions; imprisoning them. And you were breaking those thick walls down like dominoes.

"Severus, you're hurting me," Your voice suddenly whined, tearing him from his thoughts as your fingers touched his shaking hand that was gripping your hipbone like a merciless vice. Almost immediately, he released you from his grasp and stepped away, turning his back to you ashamedly. Several seconds of silence passed through the pair of you, your fingers lingering on the sore area, gently rubbing it in an attempt to soothe the ache. "Are you okay?" You kept your voice quiet and soft, careful not to startle him. He clearly wasn't in a good state of mind.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his head drooping, "I shouldn't have kissed you." Severus slowly turned around, his body parallel to yours, a solemn look upon his features. "It was wrong of me, and I was selfish." Severus added, his lips molding into that familiar, emotionless flat line as he stared at you. You frowned and reached your hand out to him, however, he shied away from it. Your chest tightened as you quickly pulled your hand back, hurt by his rejection. All this emotional warfare was wearing you down.

He's running away again, you thought, a shock of fear bolting through you.

"Why are you sorry?" Your brows furrowed deeply as you wrapped your arms around your body, the chill of the dungeon devouring you once more. You instantly missed his warmth against you.

"You're with Bluewater, are you not?" Severus's eyes hardened as he spoke that wretched name. Suddenly, your throat felt incredibly tight. Shit, Ben- he'd totally slipped your mind the moment Severus had kissed you. You'd undoubtedly made a bad habit of forgetting him when in the presence of Severus...

"Erm, yes." You said quietly. The tone of your voice had him confused. You sounded regretful.

Severus stood straighter as his hands slinked away behind his back. You shrunk underneath his towering height.

The next thing you wanted to say could ruin it all. You had no idea whether Severus felt the same. Did he feel something for you, or was it just lust for him? Perhaps some sort of fantasy of fooling around with a younger professor? Everything you'd built could come crashing down like a burning plane within seconds. Your hands suddenly felt clammy as you fought to find the right words, your mouth quivering.

"I..." you breathed out as your eyes fell to the ground for a moment, staring hard. "He's not you." You glanced back up at Severus, his scrutinising eyes sending your lungs into a breathless spasm. You felt like you couldn't breathe as you waited for his reply.

"Don't be a fool, Y/N." Severus's voice was cold. It made your stomach drop. Was this his way of rejecting your affections?

"I'm serious." You chewed on the inside of your cheek, eyes studying his unwavering stony face.

"You can do far better than me. I will only hurt you, Y/N," he spoke, his voice deep and languid, "I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible, I will make it impossible to live a life without pain and regret. People do not linger around me for certain reasons."

"Yet I'm still here." You huffed quietly, your fingers squeezing your arms out of frustration.

"For now." Severus mused sarcastically, wallowing in his self-hatred. It hurt you to see his true opinion of himself, and it made your mind race with reasons as to why he despised himself so much.

"Why can't you see yourself the way I do?" You sighed softly, almost defeatedly, gazing at the man in front of you. Severus hated how your eyes were laden with sorrow.

"You look at the world with rose-coloured glasses. I do not." He replied. Those deep, black eyes had suddenly lost the flicker in them, and it pained you. He began to move, sweeping back to his desk, taking a seat behind it - still disorderly and untidy.

You were quiet, quite obviously hurt. Severus's jaw clenched, an ache spreading across his chest as a deep sigh fell through his nostrils. 

"Why do you always shut me out, Severus?" A shaky exhale left you as your eyes burned. The emotional rollercoaster that this man was sending you on was truly heartwrenching.

He was silent in response to your question, eyes stuck to his messy desk, an indelicate representation of his current state of mind.

"Severus, answer me," you demanded, attempting to sound as stern as possible, though it was a pathetic failure as your voice broke; breathy sobs fighting to escape your throat. "Why are you so scared of this?"

"I will only hurt you, Y/N." He said, too afraid to look at you. Severus couldn't bear to see you so upset, especially because of him.

"You don't know that." You replied, voice soft.

"And you do?" Severus's head snapped up at you, frustrated, his eyes cold and ruthless; back to their usual appearance. A quiet gasp shot out of your quivering mouth. "Bluewater is better for you." He admitted. How could he say that when he'd said you'd deserved better than him?

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" You cried out, the building frustration within you finally crumbling and spilling out through your tears. Severus looked away from you, physically unable to watch you cry. Gods, he wanted to rush to you and hold you, tell you that everything was going to be alright, but he couldn't. He had no idea if things were going to be okay. And they definitely wouldn't be if he had the honour of callilng you his. "Y/N-" His eyes were still avoiding you, too ashamed to even look at you.

"No, Severus, what gives... what gives you the right to kiss me, to pull me so close to you and then suddenly shove me away like I'm nothing but a piece of dirt on your shoe?" You rambled, your hands flying outwards frantically as hot tears rolled down your cheeks. It was embarrassing how unravelled you'd become, but you couldn't stop yourself. He'd finally broken you. "You can't keep doing this to me, I can't- it's..." Your lungs and throat burned. You'd exhausted yourself. "To kiss you? Did you not initiate it?" He scowled at you. "You were the one pushing your face into mine!"

"Okay, sure, I admit to that- but you didn't have to kiss me! You could have walked away!" You cried, walking up to his desk and pointing a finger at his face. Immediately, his lip curled upwards, his features twisting into a disdainful scowl.

"Is that not what you wanted?! For me to kiss you?!" Severus bellowed, rising from his desk chair, his hands slamming down onto the desk furiously. This time you didn't flinch, too distracted by the flaming hot anger searing through your veins.

"Did you?!" You exclaimed back at him, leaning forwards over his desk. One more time, the two of you were impossibly close - so close that you were sure you could feel the angry heat radiating from each other's bodies.

The room was suddenly dead silent, and yet, the only things the two of you could hear were the ragged, desperate breaths that seeping out of your heaving chests.

"Go to hell, Snape." You whispered with a red face. You felt humiliated, angry, upset- actually, you were certain every single emotion was surging through you right now; the way your body was trembling uncontrollably made you sure of it.

Severus's lack of an answer more than enough for you. With a frustrated, teary-eyed huff, you spun around, storming straight for his door.

Jesus, how could you have fallen for such a cruel man? Were you so blind? He had an abysmal reputation for a reason, yet you still selfishly thought that you could change him, that you could fix him and make him a better person. And you were wrong, Gods, were you so. Fucking. Wrong. 

You were only three steps away, when a strong hand suddenly gripped your arm, spinning you around with force. You whirled around, taken by surprise as Severus crashed his lips against yours, his touch-hungry hands rushing carelessly to grasp at your waist, drawing your body into his. He was like a devouring flame, hungry and starving for its fuel of life. You gasped against his lips, your body soon falling victim to his alluring aura, melting shamelessly into him. Your mind clouded with lust and desire as your hands swiftly settled around his neck once again, desperately tugging him as close to you as possible as a few stray tears fell from your closed eyes, wetting both of your cheeks. You were unabashedly needy for his touch - for his lips, for his whole self in general - your body and heart was begging for him, and Severus noticed.

*

Severus pushed you backwards towards the very desk that the two of you had brewed the Mandrake potion a year ago, his hands slipping underneath your thighs to lift you up effortlessly. Your bum grazed against the surface as he placed you down, a rogue piece of wood tearing the hem of your nightdress slightly. You spread your legs, inviting him in, his hips pressed against the edge of the desk as he kissed you hungrily. Severus's hands slipped up from your thighs and felt their way up to your waist again, squeezing you tenderly, shooting a delicious shiver up your spine. He pulled a delicate moan from your lips as he let one of his hands snake up to your neck, his thumb grazing against the side of your breast on its travels. A groan bubbled in his throat at the sultry noise, a thrilling jolt trembling through him as his hand gently grasped the back of your neck, his cold fingers tickling the nape of it.

You mindlessly wrapped your legs around his hips, tugging him closer with each lingering kiss like he could be ripped away from you any second. Severus's hips rutted against yours and you gasped, prompting an animalistic groan from his mouth. 

Your hands fell from his neck, sliding agonisingly slow down his torso and halting themselves at his hips, toying with the buckle and buttons of his trousers. Instantaneously, with his wet and swollen lips still glued to yours, his hand abandoned your waist to help you with his clothing, unbuckling them one-handedly. You were impressed to say the least.

As you fumbled with his zipper, Severus returned his hands to your body. His slender and skilled fingers found your cardigan and slipped it off of your shoulders and arms, discarding it to the ground. You whined slightly at the sudden bitter air, though it was soon silenced as Severus delved his wet tongue wildly into your mouth, licking and caressing it against your own. You moaned as he moved his mouth down to your jaw, nipping at it sweetly, his tongue leaving a hot trail as he made his way down toward your neck; his fingers having a mind of their own as they flew to your shoulders, tugging at the straps of your nightdress. Another breathless moan tumbled freely from your mouth as Severus sucked sweetly on your neck, pushing you backwards onto the surface of the table. You let yourself be guided by him as you laid back on the desk, arching yourself as your hands flew from his hips to the back of his neck, diving your fingers into his thick, mop of black hair, urging him to continue.

Your lids are lazy and heavy as you let him ravage your neck with sinful lips. "Severus," You whispered, breathless, sending a shockwave through him. "Need you-" A lewd whine left you as your body rocked hungrily against his.

"Patience," He whispered back against your hot skin, panting. You whined once more, evidently unhappy with his response. Severus chuckled, pulling away from your slender neck, your hands sliding down from the mess of his hair to his clothed biceps. He leaned down toward your face once more, a pool of warmth flourishing in his torso as he gazed down at you. He lifted a large hand and placed it tenderly against your cheek, his thumb brushing against the pinkened apples of your cheeks. Instinctively, you leaned into his sweet touch, your cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red, inducing a rare smile upon Severus's lips. You allowed your fingers to shift from his tensed arms to the hem of his cloak on his chest.

"What?" You asked quietly, a coy smile gracing your full, swollen lips as you beckoned him closer with a tug at his cloak that lingered between the pads of your fingers.

"Nothing." He rumbled in his deep voice, still staring at you. You sucked in a cheek and bit down on the inside of it, the overwhelming feeling of vulnerability eating you up. His thumb brushed against your cheek again, sending a shiver throughout your body.

"Then kiss me again, will you?" You laughed softly, slightly embarrassed at the dishevelled state you were currently in. You gave another tug at his cloak again. Severus's lips quirked upwards again at your demand, caving at your sweet voice. He leant down slowly, large nose brushing against yours in an intimate fashion as he pressed a soft, chaste kiss against your reddened lips.

In this tender and soft moment that you shared with Severus, all you wanted to do was remain here forever. Seeing him act so warm and soft with you felt like a fever dream. From the callous way he spoke to you in the first year, you never expected a man like him to have such a gentle and delicate side. It was momentous - he'd finally succumbed to you, allowing you into his world; a side of him you never thought you'd ever see. And you were eternally grateful for it.

You felt yourself becoming lost in his addicting touch again as his hands travelled down your body, gently caressing your flaming hot skin. They reached your thighs, squeezing them, and your back arched into him; the fire from before burning hotter.

Kissing you, Severus trailed the tips of his fingers down your legs, toying with the hem of your nightdress, slowly and teasingly guiding it up towards your thighs. The sensation sent a chill down your spine as the crisp air nipped at your bare legs, excited goosebumps erupting all over you. With a delicious, muffled hum, he hooked a finger underneath the string of your underwear, pulling at it.

"You want this?" He muttered against your lips, his eyes fluttering open for a brief moment.

"Yes," you panted, "please, yes."

At the sound of your pleas, Severus slipped your lacy panties off of you, discarding them on the ground with your cardigan. Instantly, he grazed his hand up the inner side of your calf, and up your thigh, coming to a teasingly close stop at where you needed him most. You whined, rocking your hips into him, begging, pleading him to touch you. A throaty growl rumbled out of him, and he mashed his lips harsher against yours, diving his tongue into your wet mouth, engaging in a heated quarrel with your own. You gasped as his hand finally settled on your burning core, a single cool finger delving itself between your wet folds, circling around your sensitive bud.

A strangled moan left your mouth as he added another finger, tracing the outline of you agonisingly slow, a coil tightening within the confines of your belly. You were panting helplessly now as he teased you, losing all control as Severus slipped his fingers inside of you, extracting a high-pitched whine from your throat. You grit your teeth as he curled them inside of you, clutching at any last bit of strength within you to stop yourself from screaming out. Your body was trembling now, hopelessly, as Severus had you wrapped around his fingers quite literally.

You exhaled, "Severus," with a whiny moan, he pulled away from your mouth and removed his fingers from you and brought them up to your lips. Without hesitation, you parted them, prompting Severus to dip them into your mouth, your tongue curling around them sinfully. A groan bubbled in the back of his throat as you tightened your legs around his hips, begging for him to continue.

A smug smirk picked at the corners of his lips as he stared at you. Your lips were wrapped around his two fingers, saliva dripping messily from them, your eyes blown and dark, hungry for more of him.

"Such a good girl," Severus uttered, tilting his chin upwards. You almost combusted right then and there. "You always were." He hummed. Instantly, your hands flew to his trousers, tugging at them with wild determination. You couldn't wait any longer, you needed him now.

He pulled his fingers out of your pretty mouth and helped you, lowering his trousers; the growing tent in his boxers driving you insane. Your fingers hook at the hem of them as his own did with your panties, pulling them down urgently. A fierce flicker of lust and desire flashed in your eyes as his cock bounced free, your legs tugging him closer to you once more, a whimper leaving your lips in an attempt to persuade him to finally take you.

"Sev, please," The way you shortened his name in your soft, enticing and whiny voice almost sent him tumbling over the edge. He drew a sharp breath as he placed a hand against your cheek, and his other underneath your nightdress upon your waist, his fingers finally touching and squeezing your naked flesh. He groaned as you rutted your hips against him again. Without a delay, he slipped himself inside of you, the pair of you moaning together at the intense flash of pleasure washing over you like a tsunami.

Severus's mind was jaded as he fucked you, his mouth parting and lips quivering as he allowed himself to become lost in the ripples of unwavering bliss that rattled through his body. Your hands snaked up to his face and cradled it sweetly, pulling him back down to meet your lips again. The kisses were short and sweet, nothing like the hungry and harsh ones before.

Your head fell back slightly, your bottom lip caught between his teeth as Severus's full length sheathed itself inside of your warm, hot core; the delicious slapping of yours and his flesh echoing in his classroom. All those years ago, studying in here, never did you think that you'd find yourself right here in this sensual moment.

Severus's hand that was sat on your waist slipped downwards and settled itself on your hip, fingers digging harshly into your skin as he felt himself teetering closer to the edge. His breaths were becoming ragged, laboured and heavy, and so he brought his other hand down to your womanhood, slipping his fingers between your folds once more to thumb your clit. As he circled it skillfully, your body quaked with every rub, strings of moans and gasps falling freely and shamelessly from your busied mouth. The coil within you tightened, and your fingers sunk themselves into his mop of black hair once more, gripping it with force as your body shook uncontrollably.

Severus's thrusts became sloppy and uncalculated as he pulled his face back from you, watching as you came undone beneath him; your face twisting in a dangerously beautiful manner as the coil snapped. He moved his hands from you and placed them beside your hips as your walls clenched frantically around him, and Severus himself was sent tumbling over the edge, a broken and throaty animalistic moan slipping out of his mouth as his body gave out, collapsing over you. Catching himself with his hands, he transferred his weight to his elbows and forearms, leaning up slightly to gaze at you. His black eyes twinkled beautifully in the amber glow of his classroom, a flush of warmth blossoming over your spent, sweaty body. A gentle giggle came from you, and he found himself smiling. Usually, it felt odd for such an expression to take hold of his features, however, with you, it felt natural. Like it was meant to be there.

*

(end of 18+)

He allowed himself a moment to recuperate as your fingers softened their grasp in his hair, gradually glazing to his cup his red cheeks, thumbs brushing sweetly against his burning skin. He pulled himself out of you and pulled up his trousers, buckling them up. He pulled your nightdress back down over your legs, his hand lingering over your thigh.

"Don't you look happy with yourself," you giggled again, and Severus hushed you with a gentle kiss on your lips. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"What do you mean?" He frowned softly, thumb brushing against the silk material that covered your thigh. A warmth pooled in your belly at his touch.

"You're smiling, and it's not forced... or sarcastic." You smiled, biting down on your bottom lip playfully.

"I can't help myself," Severus muttered, his face mere centimetres away from yours, "You just seem to pull them out of me." The warmth within your burned a little hotter.

"Don't stroke my ego, you'll regret it, Sev." You joked, a toothy grin replacing the sweet smile. He chuckled at you.

"I hate to bring this up, however, it's niggling at my mind," Severus suddenly sighed, the tiny flicker of a smile that was on his face disappearing. "What about Bluewater now?"

You scrunched your nose up at the sound of his name, the guilt that once vanished making a very hasty return to your body, sinking into your aching shoulders. "Um," you winced, "I don't know. I can't exactly... end things with him whilst he's staying here, erm, I'm not sure how he'll react." You finished, allowing your fingers to brush through Severus's dishevelled black hair.

"Hm," he hummed, pondering. "what does that mean... for us?"

"We will just have to grin and bear it until he 'deems it safe to leave'." You made a face, mocking Ben's words from that moment in the Great Hall. A faint amused smile spread across Severus's face, your chest tingling at the sight of it. "And I'm not sure I can tell him about us, he might just lose it, you know how he... you know- hates you."

"That would truly be a sight to behold," Severus smirked, the arrogance in him slithering out. You rolled your eyes at him. "However, we must be wise in our decisions, I do not want you getting hurt." His other hand held your cheek, fingers brushing a stray strand of messy hair behind your reddening ears.

"Do you think you can handle acting like you hate me for a few more days?" You asked, a bashful grin gracing your blushing face. Your hand settled atop of his large one as he caressed your cheek. Severus couldn't believe how lucky he was. What on Earth did he do to deserve this? To deserve such a beautiful, kind creature like you?

"I did it for the past year, another few days is nothing." He quipped quickly, a playful tone in his voice. You scoffed at him.

"Wow," you breathed out, grinning, your hands flying to his chest to push him off of you. He obliged and leaned up, stepping out of the trap of your legs. You slipped off of the table and picked up your underwear and cardigan, putting them both back on. An embarrassed red blush fluttered across your cheeks as fresh memories of Severus rolling up your nightdress flooded your mind, almost drowning you.

"Oh, that's too far?" He laughed softly. You head flew to look at him, your heart skipping a beat from the sound of his beautiful laugh. You'd never heard it before, and it was... gorgeous, to say the least.

"That's the first time I've heard you laugh - genuinely." You gasped, an uncontrollable smile spreading across your face like a wildfire. Almost immediately, Severus's face dropped and he rolled his eyes, clearly opposed to your positive reaction. He wasn't exactly fond of being fawned over, it made him feel weak.

"And it'll be the last." He groaned, turning away from you as another sweet laugh bubbled in the back of your throat.

"I should get back, Ben is probably wondering where I am, or... he's still asleep, oblivious to the world." You sighed heavily, padding towards Severus's tall, cloaked form. He slowly turned around, his black eyes sparkling in the orange torchlight.

"Yes," He said softly, fingers coming up to hold your chin. All sense and feeling suddenly drained from your legs. "Though I'm not sure I can promise to stay away from you, let alone keep my hands off of you." Severus muttered, his deep, languid voice sending a shock through your smaller body.

Your breath hitched, "Well, you're going to have to try," you exhaled softly, eyes flicking between his. He brought your chin up, cool fingers grasping it sweetly, and pressed a tender kiss upon your lips. Naturally, your hands flew up to sit against his strong chest, a guttural groan emitting from his throat as he kissed you. You had to swallow the moan that threatened to slip from you, feeling yourself become aroused all over again. "Alright, I really have to go." You whispered against his mouth, though your body was showing the complete opposite of what you said.

You kissed him back, a little harder, tracing your tongue against the surface of his bottom lip. "Go, then." He murmured back, hands slipping from your face and down to your waist, gripping you teasingly slow. You arched into him, breaths becoming shallow and wanting.

"I'm trying," you whimpered, "you're making this very hard."

"Let me make it easy for you then." Before you could protest, Severus tore himself from you, a needy, desperate whine falling from your lips.

"Gods, you're such a tease." You groaned, folding your arms against your chest, a clear show of disappointment. Severus couldn't help but smile at you. You looked so incredibly cute with that unhappy frown on your little face.

"My apologies." Severus mused sarcastically. "Now, go, I will see you tomorrow."

You sighed, "Alright, fine..." eyes looking at his form dangerously, rousing him.

"Stop it, Y/N."

"What?"

"You know exactly what you're doing."

"Do I?" You blinked, an innocent look crossing your features.

"Leave. Now." Severus said sternly, gesturing to the door as he swept behind his desk, seating himself.

"Alright, I'm going." You couldn't help but smile cheekily as you moved towards the door, fingers clicking it open reluctantly. "Same time tomorrow?"

"We'll see. Now, go."

And so you did, slipping out of his classroom sneakily, making sure to shut his door as quietly as possible with the brightest smile on your blushing face.

What the hell just happened?

Part 12!

oh LORDT. i do hope i wrote that scene well, it was tough i won't lie. however, credit to the weeknd, bro really helped me.

let me know your thoughts, i'm always curious to see what you think :)

i love you guys!! thank you again!! make sure to drink enough water, it's getting super hot again ffs! >:(

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[da-rulah]

I hope you are having a wonderful day.

I humbly request some jealous cardi spice ♡

Thank you lovely! My day is going well, I've done nothing today other than write this filth.

So, listen... An idea came to me with this one... and I ran with it. I bloody love jealous tropes, as you may know if you've read Day 5 of Rituale Septem... But this one gets a little... sacrilegious.

Darling, this became feral. And I'm not sorry.

18+ MDNI! Papa Emeritus IV x f!reader.

TW/ Jealous themes (ofc), ex-boyfriend returns, mentions of past life in a christian church, violence, blood, fingering, rough sex, references to Satan and the Devil, possessiveness, breeding kink, ownership kink, creampie.

"Are. You. Mine?" artwork created by the incredibly talented @honimello!

Thank you so much, it's incredible and exactly how I pictured Copia's face in that scene...

If any artists are ever inspired by anything I write, please please do share it with me - I'd love to see what your mind's eye sees when reading my work. And this fandom is full of incredible talent. I love it here.

Frantic knocking on the door to Papa's quarters jolted you from the trance your book in hand had you in. Copia had been drifting off, his gloved fingers mindlessly playing with your hair as you read in his lap but he too startled to sit upright.

In a fumble of clumsy limbs, the two of you stood, Papa heading straight for the door to find Rain out of breath and panicked.

"Rain? What's the matter, mio amico?" Papa asked, waiting patiently for him to get his breath back. Clearly he had run as fast as he could to find Papa.

"Th-there's... a man... he's shouting about Sister ______ on the steps of the Ministry, Papa!" he explained frantically, waving his arm in the direction of the front doors.

Your eyes widened, Papa's head flinging around to look back at you. You had a sinking feeling in your gut. You know who it was... He'd found you.

"I-I'll go... I'll take care of it," you said, stepping around Copia and walking a little ways out into the hall when he grabbed your elbow, stopping you.

"What's going on?" he asked, "This sounds dangerous, why don't you let me..."

"He's not dangerous. He's just an idiot. I'll deal with it," you told him firmly. "Stay."

Copia let go of your arm and you continued to walk down the hall. He nodded in your direction at Rain, telling him to follow you and make sure you were in fact safe. Rain nodded and trotted behind you - you didn't mind him being your backup, but it was Copia you wanted to keep away from the situation.

As you got closer to the doors, you could hear the ramblings of the idiot on the Ministry steps, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"_________! Hey, I know you're in there! I know what they've done... They've stolen you away, told you lies and made you fall in love with the devil!"

You groaned to yourself, turning to Rain with an eye roll.

"Ex-boyfriends, eh?" you scoffed, before wrenching the door open and standing on the top step.

"Elijah, you sound like an idiot," you said, monotonous and feigning boredom.

"Oh, see? I knew you were here! Cavorting with heathens and the Devil! I need to take you home, _______. To bring you back to God!"

You knew your past in a Christian community would come back to bite you on the ass someday, but you'd hoped to be a little more prepared for it.

But no, here was your ex-boyfriend, now more religious than you'd ever known him when you were together, trying to... win you back? That was laughable.

"God only knows what you do within those walls... Filthy fornication, sacrifices to Satan..."

"That's rich, Elijah. I seem to remember you had no problem with fornication when we were together. But hey, one rule for you, another for the rest isn't it?" you laughed. Elijah saw read, stomping up the steps and standing on the one beneath you.

"I have seen the error of my ways, and I'm repenting every day for them, whore! You must do the same, come with me. Now!" he grabbed your arm, attempting to drag you down the steps and go back to the life you'd left behind many moons ago.

No way in hell were you going back there again.

You began kicking and yelling at him, flailing your arms as you panicked - he was strong, but Rain was behind you. No doubt he'd be jolted into action as he saw you being dragged away by this lunatic.

"I think you'd better let her go," a thickly-accented voice behind you stopped Elijah in his tracks, his head snapping around to look behind where you both were halfway down the steps.

Papa stood at the top, his hands behind his back and surrounded by three of his beefiest Ghouls - and Sodo. But Sodo was growling like the feral little raccoon he was.

"Or what, old man? You gonna take her from me?" Elijah challenged, pulling you against him with you back against his chest. He was scared, using you as a human shield. Pathetic. "She doesn't belong here, in this... this... vile place."

Copia laughed, stepping down the steps and holding a hand out to his side to keep his Ghouls at bay. He pried Elijah's hands off you, taking your hands in his and checking you were okay.

"Go wait up there with Rain, amore mio," he told you, his voice soft and his palm caressing your cheek to calm you. You nodded under his touch and headed back up to the top of the stairs, the Ghouls parting to let you stand behind them for safety. Rain came to your side, holding your hand.

Copia squared up to Elijah then, in a way you'd never seen him square up to anybody. He scared you, with how silent and yet, clearly livid he was.

"You're not taking her anywhere, stronzo." His voice was dark and commanding.

"Oh, I get it now..." Elijah began to laugh, cackling to himself as he doubled over at something so hilariously amusing to only him. "Are you... are you fucking him?" he asked you, pointing at Copia and dismissing him. "This weird, old guy? Really?"

You wanted to defend Copia, but the way he looked over his shoulder at you had you staying put and squeezing on Rain's hand.

"She's found her place here, able to live a life where she's not judged and vilified for living her fucking life. You people are all the same.. damning souls to Hell for the things you wish you allowed yourself to do. But oh no, they're sins, eh? You couldn't possibly..." Copia scoffed.

"I have sinned in the past, but I repented. I sinned plenty," Elijah's voice dropped so only Papa could hear, "I sinned with her..."

Copia's hands balled into fists at his side. Jealousy, no matter how warranted, flooded his veins like poison.

"I remember, too... I know what she likes, what she's into. Have you found that spot on her collarbone yet? She likes that..." Elijah was smirking, and you didn't like the look on his face as he whispered in Copia's ear. Copia remained still, fists clenched and staring straight ahead.

"I was her first, you know... Gave her her first orgasm, made her cum over and over... Can you do that, old man? One night with me again, and she'd forget your name if it was tattooed on her arm. She'll always be mine..."

A green mist descended in Copia's mind, and he couldn't help himself. He swung for Elijah, his fist connecting with his cheek with a sickening crack.

The Ghouls sprang into action when Elijah pounced on Copia, shoving him to the floor and trying to get a few punches in himself, but Copia was too strong for him. A man you thought would never hurt a fly, wouldn't be able to hold his own in a fight on account of his own awkwardness and his tender nature and yet... you were seeing a whole new, angry side to him. And it made your chest tighten, knowing he was fighting for you...

The Ghouls sprang into action, quickly restraining Elijah and dragging him to the parking lot around the side of the front building to the Ministry. You saw them throw him into the back of a van, two of them and Sodo joining him in the back whilst the remaining Ghoul got in the driver's seat.

You ran to Copia's side where he stood up, dusting himself off.

"Copia! Fucking hell, are you alright?" you asked, your hands pulling his face to look at you but he couldn't look you in the eye. Instead, he gripped your wrists in his and pulled you back up the steps, marching you back to his quarter's and ignoring Rain's protests he should go to the infirmary for the blood dripping from his forehead and lip.

You tried to slow him down, to tell him to stop and breathe but he ignored everything you said to him until he had you back in his living room, slamming the door behind him. He let you go, practically throwing you into the middle of the room as he stalked towards you with dark, hungry eyes.

'C-Copia... what did he say to you?" you asked him, terrified he was now angry at you for some lies Elijah may have told.

"You're mine, sí?" he asked, his voice deep and forced through grit teeth.

"W-what?" you asked; how could he ask that of you. He knew you were, body and soul.

"Are. You. Mine?" he asked, slowly. You took a step back.

"Of course I am!" you yelled, "Copia your head, your lip... Let me clean you up, okay? Just... Just take a breath, calm down," you told him, taking another step back as he took one towards you.

He ignored you, backing you up until your legs hit the couch behind you. He was in your space now, glowering down at you. The look in his eyes both terrified and excited you. With such a dark expression, the blood from his lip and forehead only served to add a menacing and yet, enticing air of danger to your predicament.

"Calm down? I am calm, amore mio. Why wouldn't I be calm, eh?" Sarcasm dripped from every word.

"Copia, please..." you lift your hand to caress his cheek, trying to check the damage to his lip and head but he catches your wrist in a tight grip, earning a gasp from you.

"I am a better man than him, sí?" he asked. You creased your brow in confusion for a minute, before remembering to answer him. Every millisecond of silence his grip on your wrist tightened.

"Y-yes, of course you are. Copia, you're scaring me..." Only half true, of course. He was absolutely a better man than Elijah ever was, and you were only... slightly scared in that moment.

"I love you more than he ever could, sí?" he asked.

"Y-you do, yes. And I love you, so much..." you told him, trying desperately to get him to just calm down, to snap out of whatever hex he was under.

"And..." he steps forward again, his foot between both yours as he presses his thigh between your legs. You can feel his hip against you, his groin pressing into your own hip bone. Was he... hard? "I fuck you better than he ever could, sí?"

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, and you stuttered an incoherent response. You hate to admit it but his anger was having an effect on you; his jealousy. Whatever Elijah had said to him, it must have riled him up enough to make him jealous in some way. And honestly, the thought of Copia being jealous should have had you angry at him, because how could he be jealous of that asshole?

But instead, it lit a furnace inside you. This incredibly powerful, wonderful man, who would rearrange the nine circles of Hell for you if only you asked, was jealous for you.

"Answer me," he growled, and you stammered again, unable to form a two words to string together. He took your silence as a no; severely misinterpreting the situation.

"Perhaps you need reminding, amore mio?" Copia grabbed your other arm and twisted you to the side, pushing you down to the couch with your back shoved into the corner. He knelt between your spread thighs, hands on the arm and backs of the couch and hovering above you.

"Ti scoperò finché non dimenticherai che quel tuo dio infernale ha mai fatto parte della tua vita, (I'll fuck you until you forget that that infernal God of yours was ever a part of your life)," he growled, his jealousy and anger at your past life bubbling away inside him. You didn't know enough Italian to know what he'd sad, but you recognised enough to know he was growling about God in your life? Whatever it was, it sent a flood of arousal to your core.

Before you knew it, his lips were pushed bruisingly hard against your own. You could taste the metallic pang of blood on your lips, but you had no room to care at that point. You let him consume you, his tongue working against your own with no contest as your gripped onto the lapels of his tattered jacket.

Copia's hands came to grip onto your habit either side of the buttons, and with one sharp tug he ripped it open, the buttons pinging off in different directions. he pulled again, lower, exposing your body to him where you lay.

You felt so desperate already, needy beneath him as you scrambled to push his jacket off him, then pulling on the knot of his blue neck tie and lifting that over his head with a brief separation of his punishing kiss.

Like he had to you, you pulled on either side of his shirt to try and rip it open, but you simply weren't strong enough. Copia chuckled, sitting up between your legs.

"My poor toppolina, let me help, hm?" he mocked, before ripping into his own shirt in one fell swoop. You ran your hands over his chest, marvelling at the structure of a well exercised man, his chest covered in an expanse of salt and pepper speckled chest hair. You traced the '666' over his heart, earning you a low growl from him.

"His mark, toppolina... You pledged yourself to Him now, sí? And to me..." You had, yes. Completely.

Before you could reply his lips were on yours again, licking and sucking at your bottom lip, biting down and earning a whimper from you. You bucked your hips against his thigh, already beginning to soak through the panties on display to him.

He noticed the damp patch, and his head twitched with a smirk. Without hesitation he was ripping them down your thighs and pulling them off your legs, exposing your glistening folds to him.

He swirled his gloved fingers through the mess a few times, before immediately sliding his ring and middle finger inside you. You took him with pleasure, back arching from the couch and a moan ripping from your throat.

"Tell me, amore mio, who makes you see stars every time he touches you, eh?" he taunted, hovering above you as you writhed, his fingers pumping and curling inside you bringing you so much bliss already.

"Y-you do, Copia... Fuck," you gasped when his thumb came to draw circles over your clit. "Don't stop, please..." you begged.

He had no intention of stopping, dragging you further and further towards a climax until finally, the gasp rising in your chest got stuck, and your orgasm burst inside you.

"C-Copia!" you stuttered a scream, hands flying to grip onto his wrist while his hand continued it's onslaught on your core until he was satisfied he'd got every ounce of pleasure from your orgasm as possible.

Your grip on him loosened as you came back down, and he took this as his chance to manhandle you, flipping you over onto your knees and bent over the corner of the couch lazily. When you gazed dreamily behind you, still hazy from your orgasm, you saw him unlacing the front of his tattered pants, pushing them down just enough to release his cock. He leant forward, gripping onto your hip with one hand and lining his length up with your folds with the other. He dragged the tip of his cock - an angry shade of red and leaking precum - through your juices.

"You're mine, amore mio," he growled through grit teeth, his bare chest pressed against the habit he'd bunched up around your hips, "I claim you as such."

In one swift motion, he slid home, filling you to the brim as his hips came into contact with your ass. He grunted when he bottomed out, the warmth of your inner walls sending a pleasurable shiver through his body.

Before long his hips were smacking into your ass over and over, his cock filling you deliciously while he angled himself to hit your g-spot over and over again. The slew of nonsense tumbling from your lips had him chuckling to himself between deep breaths as he exerted himself.

"So good you can't even talk, amore mio? Sí, no one can fuck you like I can, eh?" he taunted. "Say it. Say 'no one can fuck me like you can, Papa'!" he ordered.

"No one... can... fuck me... like you... Papa!" you cried, his titled coming out as a scream at a particularly hard thrust.

"Mine... you're all mine," he claimed, "Gonna fill you up, amore mio... Give you my seed to carry, make sure everyone sees you and knows you're claimed."

If his thrusts weren't already enough, his words were turning you on above and beyond anything he'd ever said to you before. Whilst you were your own person, and proudly so, you couldn't help the way hearing how possessive he was in this moment made you clench on his length.

"G-gonna... cum... Papa!" you yelled again, dangling on the edge, just a little too far from where you needed to be. He sensed you needed a nudge, his hand snaking around between the both of you and his fingertips rubbing over your sensitive clit once again.

"You'd like that hm? If Papa fucked you so hard, filled you so much with his seed everyone could see it? Everyone would know... They'd know I'd bred you so good, amore mio..." He was spewing utter filth, and it was having the desired effect on you...

"Papa..." you cried.

"Papa's here, amore... Papa's fucking you so good, eh? Fucking the damn antichrist into you!" he growled.

You lost control then, your cunt spasmed around him as you violently came around his length. He wrapped his arms around your chest, heaving you back against him with a hand gripping your chin. His hips continued to rut into you, fucking you through your orgasm as you gasped and reached for something, anything...

"That's it, eh? So good for me, cumming on Papa's cock like that... Just for me, hm?"

All you could do was whimper weakly as your body spasmed in his grasp. He held you so tightly against him, owning you, fucking into you over and over as he whispered filth into your ear you could barely pay attention to in your haze.

Before long, he was moaning wantonly in your ear and stuttering in his pace, a sure fire sign he was about to finish. With a little more clarity now, you figured you'd help him along.

"I-I'm yours, Papa..." you told him, "Devoted to you... Cum inside me, Papa. M-mark me... as yours..."

A fierce growl erupted from his chest, his fingers digging into your flesh as he tightened his grip, hips slowing but remaining powerful in a final few thrusts to prolong his climax. He filled you with his spend, so much you could hear the way it leaked from you with every last thrust he gave.

When he stilled, he buried himself deep and stayed put, tumbling onto the couch with you in his arms and holding you still so close to him. You stayed like that for a while, content being full of him and wrapped up in him all at the same time. Both of you needed a moment, just to catch your breath and come down from the immense high you'd experienced together.

After a while, Copia began to press kisses to your neck, little hisses in pain each time he did where his lip was bust and swollen. The blood on his head had dried but now the ache of the wound was starting to set in.

You turned your head back to him, assessing the damage finally and sighing.

"You should let me help with that," you told him softly. He nodded quietly, both of you now moving and separating from each other. Killing two birds with one stone, you decided a shower for the pair of you was the best idea, and so you both removed the remaining clothes you had on and stepped under the hot water together.

In a comfortable silence, you washed the blood and paints from his face, dabbing at the wounds while he took care of washing you too. You felt the stark contrast between the way he'd taken you earlier and the tenderness of this moment; in their own ways both made you feel wanted, loved, needed.

"Copia..." you whispered to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and stepping into him. "You know I'm yours, don't you?"

You hoped he really did, part of you was terrified he doubted your loyalty to him in any way at all.

"Of course, amore mio... And I'm yours," he told you, wrapping his arms around you too and enjoying the warmth of the water cascading over both of you. "Perdonami, I fear I was too rough, eh?" he chuckled insecurely.

"Not at all... I can't pretend it wasn't hot as hell to see a side of you so angry at the idea of me being with anyone else..." you smirked up at him, resting your chin on his chest, just above his '666' mark.

"That stronzo... I can't believe you dated that fucker," he scoffed, pushing your wet hair from your forehead.

"A past life, my love. I was under a spell back then..." you sighed. He hummed in thought.

"And now, you're under mine..." he smirked. You giggled happily as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a far sweeter, tender kiss.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Throwing out the Epilogue and Cursed Child, how would you imagine the ending of the series? Like, what comes next after Harry goes to bed after beating Voldemort?

Anonymous asked:

What changes you would like to see in the wizarding world after the war?

Anonymous asked:

If you could rewrite the epilogue of Harry Potter, how would you do it and what changes would you make?

Thank you for the asks, it gave me a reason to try and think more about what I actually want from a post-book 7 story since I usually prefer to diverge from canon before book 7. I already talked a bit about the epilogue here, but this is more of a list of things I would like to see instead of reasons I don't like the existing one. There are going to be a lot of headcanons here, so be ready for that. I don't have something super thought out in terms of how it'll happen or who will be involved in everything in the long run. But I have a few bullet points about the epilogue itself and further in the future for the HP characters.

Like, for the epilogue itself, as I wrote in the past, I'd make it only a few months in the future, not years. What I'd put there is:

Showing a bit of the Golden Trio's friendship, and the three being hopeful about the future.

They are back at Hogwarts for 8th year and offhandedly mention Harry tried to go straight to Auror training and regretted leaving Hogwarts behind so quickly.

Ron was with Harry in Auror training and when Harry told him he was dropping out, Ron dropped out too. Kingsly assures them they could both return and continue the training from the point they dropped out after 8th year (Ron would return, Harry wouldn't).

They all get to worry about a future they weren't sure they'd have.

It's mentioned Neville is helping out Sprout and Harry is helping out the changing roaster of DADA teachers (since McGonagall decided to not really sign one on permanently to avoid the curse until it could be broken).

Some sections of Hogwarts are still a little worse for wear or were rebuilt completely after the battle and it shows.

Society is a little different. I want to see a Hogwarts where houses don't matter as much. Actually, start building the unity the sorting hat sang about. Show Harry has a few Slytherins he's friendly with. Show a pure-blood Slytherin be at least polite to Hermione — show the seeds of change.

Harry and Hermione are both mentioned going to the ministry for various meetings, and we get a hope that the ministry could be changed from within. That the system that let Voldemort and the Death Eaters take over so easily could be helped.

The epilogue won't show the actual changes or politics, just imply they are happening/or will happen. Many of the ex-DA members are primed for key positions in the ministry which would help this change to happen. Still, it would be slow, but now that there is no war, they have time. Like, the epilogue would mention people like Susan Bones getting a good position in the DMLE or something.

They reference rebuilding Diagon Alley and many places that were destroyed along with setting up a war monument and a separate monument for muggleborns.

Basically, I just want to end on a note of hope, of seeing a reason to work towards a future Harry finally had, you know?

But, that note of hope needs to have a bitter taste to it. I'd mention how this year, almost all the students could see the Thestrals leading the carriages to Hogwarts, an entire generation who gazed upon death.

Like, I don't care that much who Harry marries and what he names his kids, so I don't really mind not seeing that and leaving that to each reader to imagine their own future for him. If I were to rewrite the epilogue, that's what I'd do, I'd keep it vague.

As for other things I have in mind for Harry's future after the books, well, I think I mentioned some of them in the post I linked but I'll note down a few:

Harry becomes DADA professor and eventual deputy headmaster for McGonagall and Professor Potter doesn't let an abused kid go unnoticed. He's going to do something about it, for all houses.

Ron does still become an Auror, and I see him getting really good and valued there. I want Ron to become head of the DMLE instead of Harry.

I like to imagine Hermione becoming an Unspeakable actually, I think she'd enjoy it more than politics. Like, as much as she cares, she isn't very politically savvy. She is going to use Harry's Potter Wizengamot seat and war hero status (+ her own war hero status) to help him and other ex-DA members push for more creature rights and changes in the Wizarding World though.

Neville becomes a Herbology Professor and head of Gryffindor, and he and Harry become closer friends when they work together at Hogwarts.

Harry also breaks the DADA curse, either by figuring it out (he's very intuitive about magic and he knows how Tom thinks, so he could figure it out) or the curse recognizes him and just ceases. Even if Harry isn't a Horcrux anymore, I think carrying Tom's soul for so long had a lasting effect, so he just might get a pass. And even if the curse doesn't break, honestly, if anyone knows how to survive a year at Hogwarts when something's out to kill you it's the Boy-Who-Lived. So the curse might break after it fails once because it's Harry James Potter, Master of Death extraordinaire, and exception to magic.

I think Luna continues editing the Quibbler with her father, as well, and after the war, it becomes a real competition for the Prophet. She still becomes a Magizoologist in my headcanon.

Harry would eventually become Hogwarts headmaster, I think, in my version of events. Obviously, this would be way later, but I really see it happening. I'm hoping in his time as headmaster he'll finally fire Binns and get an actual history teacher into this school.

As for shipping, in my ultimate vision, Harry and Theo get together either during 8th year or by meeting in the ministry, maybe in Wizengamot warlock conventions (since Theo's father was a Death Eater and is either dead or in Azkaban, it'll be Theo there). I believe Theo wasn't actually in Britain during book 7 and the war and that's how he got out of being a Death Eater. He wasn't mentioned among the Slytherins that were in Hogwarts, so it's possible. I disagree with everything Cursed Child did to my boy Theo Nott except him being an Unspeakable since I can see that happening. His and Hermione's work dynamic in the DOM could be really fun, I think and it might be how he and Harry start talking.

For everyone else, I'm honestly less picky. I'm fine with Ron and Hermione together at the end, but I'd also be fine if they won't be, so 🤷‍♀️

[petriwriting]

Vero Amore - Theodore Nott X Reader (Part 4)

Summary: Theodore is on trial for being associated with voldemort due to his father and family history, His odds arent looking so good. Luckily for him you are called to the stand to testify on his behalf, and you just might be the key to his innocence.

Fluff, established previous relationship, Exbf!Theo, Older!Theo and others. Post hogwarts.

Previous part here

The prosecution had painted Theodore as a greedy criminal, despite his previously spotless record. It was all about the chatter, and breaking away from the path his father had paved for him would have proven to be difficult. You were ushered back to your seat, away from the center of the courtroom. a mixture of skeptical and sympathetic faces passed you by, if these people wanted a love story, they got one. there was not a single ounce of dishonesty in either you or Theodore, or any of his witnesses'.

During closing arguments, Your escort gave an impassioned plea about Theodore's outstanding character and the complete lack of real evidence against him. The prosecution tried its best to poke holes, but their arguments rang hollow after everything. and it was now in the hands of the jury, you hoped and prayed they would be forgiving. After just an hour of deliberation, the jury returned with a verdict of not guilty on all charges and accounts. You finally let out the breath that felt like you had been holding for months. His life and reputation had been salvaged, he was no longer tied to his past. and he would not have to be sent away to suffer for his fathers wrongdoings. you were overjoyed, elated to be able to see him one day do all of the things he always dreamt of. Once the court was dismissed, you scurried over to Theodore to embrace him, he picked you up into the embrace, holding you closely with a huge breath of relief and fresh air. Blaise appeared, he had been sitting quietly somewhere in the courtroom, though you hadn't noticed. "I told you it wouldn't be so bad." he assured Theodore with a stern pat on the back. Theodore was practically in tears, happiness. "I'm so shocked," Theodore says, the courtroom is now being emptied. you are all being ushered to leave.

As the three of you continue forward into the lobby, Theodore lets out a heavy sigh. He says your name, gently. "I'm so happy you are here," he begins. "Thank you, so much. I am indebted to you." he says. You smile softly. "You don't have to thank me," you say. "I'm glad I could be here." you say. 

After a sentimental moment between the two of you, Blaise is quick to leave. "I do have to get work now, but I'll leave you two to have a more proper reunion." he says. "It was great to see you again," you say politely. Blaise was never super close to you, although you were cordial since he was friends with theo. "Thanks, for everything. We'll celebrate at my place later, yeah?" he says, Blaise nods, and then is off. 

"I don't suppose you have plans after this?" Theodore asks you as you both walk, exiting the ministry building spilling onto the busy street. "No, actually, my calendar is clear for the day." you explain. "Would you like to come to my place? we can catch up- I'd just like to properly thank you for being there today." he says, his hands reaching for his pockets. "That sounds really nice actually." you agree. 

Before too long you are at Theo's small flat. It's messy and lived in. "Sorry it's a mess." he says. "But it's home." for someone that grew up a pureblood slytherin who was well off financially, it was quite modest. "It's fine. I don't mind it." you say, sitting at the kitchen island. Theo is standing on the other side. "Would you like a drink?" he offers. "sure" you say. Although you are both happy that he is now a free man, there is still a slight tension from spending so many years apart after school. you are both attempting to make up for the lost years. Theo offers you a glass with some tea, your favorite kind. He's incredibly thoughtful. "What happened to your father?" you ask, after some contemplation. "After the war, he realized he would be prosecuted. He attempted to flee to America, but he was caught and he passed shortly after." Theo says. 

"I'm sorry to hear that." you say. "It's alright, I don't miss him. but he's the only family I ever had." he says sadly. "That isn't true," you retort. "You have draco, pansy, and blaise." you thought. "and me." you say softly. Theodore gives a grateful smile. there's a special exchange between you. His mother passed away when he was young and his father was awful...  "The past few years have been rough," he sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "with the trial dragging on for so long, and with everyone busy moving on with their lives I always felt like I was stuck back in time... It's been really lonely." he says. "Sometimes I think back," you begin. "and I remember all the things we did, all the fun we had. Laughter, Tears, all of it. I'm sad it's gone now, but I'm grateful that it happened. Those are my best memories." you admit. "Seeing us in those memories kind of changed me." Theodore admits, biting his lip slightly. there is uncertainty. "What do you mean?" you question."I just meant that," he begins, but he back tracks, his hands resting on the counter behind him as he leaned back, his arms stiff. "I've been really lonely and part of that has to do with missing you." he exclaims. "For a long time I absolutely hated myself for leaving you there like that without an explanation, knowing that I ruined one of the best things I've ever had in my life. For a while I couldn't get out of bed, It was so heavy. But I asked you here today so that I could just let you know I'm sorry for that." His head is low, he's ashamed of himself. "Theodore, you don't have to apologize for that." He shook his head. "I do when I've thought about it almost everyday for years." he manages to say softly. "We all did things we aren't proud of, there was a war happening," you say. "That doesn't matter, but I am sorry," he says. 

You shift in your seat, taking a sip of your tea and placing the cup on the counter. you swing your feet over the edge, and you are now standing in front of Theodore. "I know that you had to do that," you comfort. "You had no other choice to survive. and that's okay." you comfort the man in front of you. "And by the way, I thought about you too. a lot. an embarrassing amount. But I wanted you to grow, even if that meant leaving me to do so." you say. Theodore is speechless, he feels like the same teenager he was all those years ago, scared to say anything. so he didn't, he pulled himself forward to place a gentle kiss on your lips. 

[ghulehthezombiequeen]

Hello I see your requests are opne and I'd like to know if you could do something with a grumpy Secondo, like, him giving y/n a bouquet but not admitting it at all or not making a big deal of it. His tsundere ass can't help it.

i . am . so . SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER ANON ILYSM 😭💕 i just got super busy after break 😓

masterlist.

warnings/things to note: no pronouns used for reader, established relationship, Secondo doesn't know how to express his feelings, fluff, idk how to write Secondo well ahhhh 😞

word count: 790

To say Secondo was hard to love was an understatement. Not to say he was a complete outright dick- which he wasn't, he was a real sweetheart under his cold exterior he'd built for himself- he just didn't know how to express his feelings other than small gestures.

You welcomed it wholeheartedly; you adored the little gifts he would hide for you as you cleaned up his catastrophically messy office space. Most of them were little handwritten notes of praise, but when you fawned over them in front of him, he merely grumbled, "It's no big deal..." or "Please, it's just a little thing of encouragement..." and returned to his work.

He was never too big on receiving gifts from you, either. He claimed he already has everything he could possibly need, yet he keeps a shoebox of your smaller gifts in one of his file cabinets under his desk.

When your anniversary started to come around, he explicitly told you not to get him any gifts. However, you couldn't possibly resist getting him the emerald-encrusted watch he'd paused to stare at through the window as you were on a date at the mall. In your mischievousness, a few days later (and with the help of a few ghouls' allowances), you'd put it on hold until your anniversary came closer.

A whirlwind of butterflies flew in your stomach as you finally purchased the watch and told the worker to take extreme care as they wrapped it in black wrapping paper, adding a sage bow and label fro you to sign on top. It would just look dazzling with his Papal robes, you giggled to yourself as you imagined him with his gift, not saying anything yet flexing it to his brothers.

You drove back to the Ministry, the gift hidden in a small bag. However, as you made your way to his office, a Sibling stopped you and rushed you to your own working space, an enormous bouquet of your favorite flowers towering on top of your wooden desk. On top of it all, a card sat with your name written in perfect penmanship and green ink.

You gasped, heart swelling with adoration. You instantly opened the card and read the contents.

"My sweet one, I heard from the earth ghouls that these were your favorite flowers. I know I explicitly told you not to get gifts, but since it is our anniversary, my brothers persuaded me. Please don't cause too much of a scene. Ti amo tanto, Amore. Happy Anniversary. - S."

Oh, how you almost fell in love with him all over again. You had to contain your fangirl squeal as you hugged the bouquet and sniffed the flowers delicately.

The other Siblings around you collectively cooed and aww'ed at the gift, some even pulling their partners aside and whispering that their standards just got higher. However, as a few Siblings came up to you asking if they can take a single flower to help take away the absolute mess on your desk, you got pulled back to earth and remembered that you haven't given your gift to Secondo yet, which sent you racing down the hall towards the Papas' offices.

You arrived at his door, knocking twice gently before entering after a gruff "come in." Secondo's hard demeanor softened ever so slightly at the sight of you, but hardened immediately after he saw your bag.

"My sweet, I said no-"

"I wanted to thank you for the bouquet," you cut him off, causing his cheeks to darken a little under his paints.

"I... it's nothing." He replied with a soft grumble. "Really."

"It's not nothing," you stepped towards him, a sweet smile gracing your lips. "It's a perfect anniversary gift."

He scoffed and murmured under his breath, but stopped as you held out the wrapped box. "What is this?"

"It's your present."

"I don't want it."

"Please, Secondo. Open it, you'll like it!" You urged, to which he scoffed and read the tag, silently unwrapping the gift.

His dark gaze softened again as he opened the box, his expression turning to one of a child in a toy store's. He was speechless as his gloved fingers traced the design of the emerald watch, then cleared his throat once he realized you were staring at him, waiting for a reaction.

"Erh... thank you. It's very nice," he said genuinely, sliding the watch out of the box and onto his wrist. "It fits perfectly, too; how- how did you know that?"

You shrugged, a devious smirk on your face as you hugged him. "I have my ways. Happy anniversary, my love."

He returned the hug, holding you tightly to his chest as your ear listened to his heartbeat. "Happy anniversary."

[anamelessfool]

A Young Nihil & Jocasta & Kid Terzo Drabble (wc 1900)

Nihil returns from a tour with an even colder reception than usual. But he's not one to worry. He gets by with a little help from his friends. Tags: Domestic Fluff, Found Family, Platonic Bonds, No Plot Really Just Me Sorta Waffling Around, The Most Basic German You'll Ever Read In Your Life, If You Read The Most Recent Violence and Gentleness Chapter This Hits Harder, Our Loveable Fuckup

I keep thinking my latest work is the most self-indulgent thing I ever make, and then this happens. Dedicated to @saintbowie who asked me "What was the worst gift Jocasta has ever received?" and I thought about it for a long while. Also @historian-crown who said "Yes, this is exactly what I'd say if I got a gift that bad" and helped me out. Thanks. @ghuleh-recs thanks for catching up on your reading too haha

1971

Ministry HQ

It felt like there were less and less Siblings out on the Ministry portico every time Nihil came back from a gig. He liked to assume the best and so he decided life around HQ was oftentimes too busy for an official welcome of the Head of the Satanic Church of the Void. For one thing, he knew Secondo’s mother Rebecca would not be out there. At this point in their relationship they communicated solely through written memos on formal letterhead. Sister Imperator, the Dark Mother, would oftentimes scowl out the window at him from her office but even she hadn't bothered this time.

Nihil’s ghouls exchanged shrugs while they stood alone on the gravel drive, then marched in near unison through the front door. At least somebody left it unlocked.

The ghouls filed into the empty foyer, and quickly lined the perimeter with trunks and instrument cases. A certain restlessness came over Nihil as he watched them wordlessly stack their things around him, building up the walls. If they were summoned by him, if they were his servitors and constructs then they had an attunement to his emotions. He had a swell time this tour circut. So why were they making themselves so busy? Why with every trunk that rolled in did he feel the ties that bound them to his Will go slack?

Jet lag, obviously.

“You uh…wanna play some records up in my rooms? Wonder if my Ethio Jazz record I wanted came in…”

Rigor Ghoul, Papa’s head ghoul and keyboardist, crossed his huge arms. He was kind, but honest. Sometimes a bit too honest for his summoner’s liking. NO. WE CAN'T. GHOUL BUSINESS.

“Right,” chuckled Nihil. “Well, enjoy.”

Rigor gave him a noble nod, a polite clap on the shoulder, then led the rest of the ghouls up the stairs to their Roost. Nihil decided to abandon the towers of luggage in search for some sort of interaction, but the halls rang impressively hollow as his Chelsea boots clicked along the marble.

At last one of his flock emerged from a side hallway, balancing a basket of laundry in her arms and shuffling with determination over to the washer. Nihil grinned expectantly, and the sibling did a quick bob of her head over the pile of linens before sidestepping and scuttling away. Papa Nihil rubbed his jaw, considering.

Damn man, when Sister Imperator said you were down you really were down.

There was some friendly chatter from the common room, at least. It was two voices he recognized, two people he actually looked forward to seeing. By the empty fireplace, posed amidst a chaos of creativity, was his Protégée Papessa-Elect Jocasta and his youngest son Terzo. Two beings that didn’t hastily find something to be busy with when he approached.

“Oh, welcome! Welcome back Papa!” Jocasta waved from her place on the carpet. Terzo lounged beside her, legs twisted in an impossible sitting position as he picked colored pencils from a tin. The whole floor was scattered with old birthday cards and magazine cuttings. A glue brush planted across its pot dripped glue on the carpet in slow syrupy strands.

“A yellow dress would look good for this one,” she suggested to Terzo. She herself wore a pretty polyester suit of bright orange with a matching scarf to hold up her golden hair. Terzo was working on an obvious recreation of her look for one of the paper dolls in his collection.

“You're a sight for sore eyes, doll,” Nihil leered. Jocasta threw him a wry wink, the whitened Infernal Eye in her skull a weird comfort for him to see after a few weeks on the road.

What he first thought could be a possible fling with an exotic woman in a bar became something completely different, something more. She wandered over to the stage and said she was inspired. He had inspired her. His work. His art.

For once the devil in Nihil didn't raise its head and sniff the air. He couldn't switch on that flirty little part of himself as he looked at her in that half dark New York club. Staring down at her from the stage, a foot and a half above her so she had to strain her neck to really look in his eyes when she confessed. He couldn't touch her. Not when she was that small below him. Not when her red eyes wept black smears.

“It's my first night here,” she had said, and more tears washed the black down her cheeks. Her voice was dark, thick with an accent that she struggled to suppress. “It's my first night here and want to follow you.”

What could he possibly say to that? His mouth stretched into a dopey smile as he brought out a hand to her. She took it. “Just say yes, babe.”

He brought his attention back to the present. Jocasta smiled at him. After a day's travel with masked silent ghouls it was the first smile he'd seen. “And how was the flight?”

“Oh not too bad, gonna sleep it off later,” he said. “You cats having fun?”

Jocasta was his odd daughter, his right hand. She knew so much already but was always eager for more. Always striving in a way that scared him a little. He had a tough time on the road before joining the Church, and he could sense that hungry drive from anywhere. But he had buried it deep long ago.

And then Sister had chosen her. Chosen her for his Protegee. Or, the Void did, in all the strange and unearthly ways it whispered to the Dark Mother. Nihil had watched her endure the Rite of Construct that he himself had blotted from his mind except for the occasional nightmare. They've suffered. They've fucked up. They survived. So whenever he looked at the dead-alive eye in her skull above her smirking lips a protective feeling came over him, a tide of true responsibility. It was a feeling that brought up memories of Primo. Primo, a few seconds old, in his arms.

Primo…wherever you are…

“Where's Secondo, now?” Nihil asked.

“He did not want to play paper dolls with us,” said Jo, exchanging a nod with Terzo.

Secondo had been cold and bitter about Terzo ever since the lad’s unexpected arrival. “I was on tour of Europe..what's a few souvenirs?” Nihil had joked, once and only once and never ever again, to Secondo’s mother.

No matter, Secondo had been adjusting to his new role…for almost two years. He'd come around. Brothers always do, right? And like all of Nihil’s dark concerning considerations, it passed over him as quickly as a brisk summertime cloud. His mouth creaked back into a smile. “Right on,” he said, and sat cross-legged on the ground with as much grace as his bandy legs would allow.

“Oh, hi,” said Terzo. He was cutting out a pre-printed red dress for the dolls propped in their cigar box; a two-dimensional hot tub party. He bit his lip, his big green eyes blazing with intensity. He constantly tripped over himself but if there was a challenge he'd give it his all. Every little nuanced divot of the paper dress's puffed sleeves needed to be freed with the most precision a six year old with safety scissors could obtain.

“I got you a present here, my boy.” Nihil waggled his eyebrows at his son. “In Canada they got all different types of candy, yanno. I heard this one was the best.”

Terzo took the brightly colored candy bar from his father’s hands, but frowned as he bent it in a way that shouldn't be possible. Right. Nihil winced.

“Er…must have got too hot— Just throw that in the fridge, it’ll be fine,” suggested Nihil. Terzo continued to squish the melted remains trapped in the wrapper, mesmerized.

Jo laughed and for a moment everything was groovy until a realization hit him like a freight train. Gifts. He forgot one for her. His very own protégée. His long fingers drummed on his knees as he added, “Oh, and uh— I got something for you too of course, uh—” He launched himself into a scour of his sport coat, his face getting hot with shame. Luckily he never really thought to ever clear out his pockets, which meant that there was a dragon’s hoard of hotel matchbooks, used saxophone reeds and phone numbers scribbled onto bar napkins. And a gift for Jocasta, if he tried and wished hard enough.

“Jesas— no, no you did not have to get me anything, please don't worry, I'm perfectly fine!” No, it wasn’t fine at all.

Shit. “Haha no I had to, yanno— you're like uh…like uh…” The only person other than Terzo that smiles at me anymore. “Gimmie a minute, it's in here somewhere!”

His fingers closed around their prize. Something in the pocket close to his heart. Of course. He always came out on top. The power of keeping it cool triumphs once again. He drew it from his sport coat in a theatrical sweep, presenting it to his ward with a rubbery open-mouthed smile of victory.

It was a pen he got from some businessman sitting next to him on the PanAm flight that liked his style. A photo of a blonde with big hair and sultry eyes leered from the side of it. The pen when turned downward dropped the woman’s black dress and left nothing to the imagination. Jocasta let out a little squeak through her nose that Nihil decided came from a place of amused approval. Terzo silently considered the pen and then his own paper doll collection.

“Oh, it’s…” Jocasta’s mouth cracked into a fiendish grin as she played with the pen in her hands, muttering something under her breath.

“Deppatta,” Terzo parroted.

Jocasta’s eyes widened, the smile fading in mock solemnity. She leaned close, squinting. “No no it's not that— now listen… Du. De-pehr-ter. Faster. Du Depperter.”

“Du Depperter.”

Jocasta clapped her hands and Terzo brightened. “Yes, that’s it!”

“Du Depperter! Du Depperter!” The two of them began a spirited chant. Terzo choked and howled and doubled over, laughing. Jocasta joined in, wiping her eye.

“Yeah, exactly, right on,” Nihil chuckled, albeit a bit bashfully. I really should learn German, he thought to himself. Maybe tomorrow. Got plenty of time now. Until the next gig.

Jocasta wrapped an arm around him, giving him a quick peck across the cheek. “I love it though, I really do love it. Thank you.”

“Oh, good!” And he didn't have to worry about anything ever again, until there was something else to worry about. Nihil craned over Terzo’s project. “And what we making today, sport?”

Terzo presented a homemade paper doll from the cigar box. She had a red-lipped smirk and raven hair. Green eyes to match his own. Nihil remembered vaguely this particular one was his son’s favorite. “She needs roller skates.”

“Course she does, all the cool chicks need skates,” said Nihil, gesturing for some supplies. Terzo dropped some crayons and a scrap of old birthday card in his father’s hands. “I saw some real hot ones on a girl in Venice Beach once.”

Jo gave him a nudge and a wink. “Let me know if you need a pen.”

My Fic List | Other Nihil HC Stuff (AO3)

Du Depperter: "You idiot" (affectionate)

[sunshineandrosesnoraincamemyway]

There are several different areas of how youth ministries work that I have major issues with.

teenagers are taught appallingly little theology. We got three sermons on David and Bathsheba in a year telling us not to have sex, but not a single one on the process of sanctification. (like, seriously is that the only story in the Bible that you can find to teach this lesson with? Last I checked there was an ENTIRE BOOK about not awakening love until its time. I digress). No real theology is taught, everything is overly simplistic with the flimsy excuse of "keeping the messages simple in case someone who has never heard the gospel is in the room." They are supposed to be preparing students for adulthood, but they give the group with the most questions the least amount of answers

There is also little to no Church history being taught. In tenth grade I studied Church history for school (because I was homeschooled and feel called to missions, more on that later) and I would bring up that I was learning about Athanasius, or the Counter Reformation, or Dietrich Bonhoffer, and my friends had never heard of these people and events that helped shape what we believe and how it plays out in our lives. I'm not saying I expect them to be an expert, but to have no familiarity with those who came before us is mind boggling to me.

There are no resources or help for students feeling a call to ministry. I have felt a call to international missions since I was eight years old, and I go to a church with a huge emphasis on missions. So you'd think they'd be excited and jumping on the opportunity to teach me what that looks like, help me figure out ways to start preparing so that I'm making the most of my time, right? Wrong. I was told that it was cool that I felt this call but I was acting like i was better than everyone else and I needed to focus on the lessons they had and I had time to figure out my calling when I was older. I'm thankful that my parents have ways encouraged me in this calling, and I was able to create my own plan to prepare me as best I could for a life of missions. (i won't go into what exactly the plan was here, but I believe it was a wise one and I'd be happy to answer any questions about it.) I look at my peers and my friends who are still in youth, and there are so many who are feeling a call to ministry, and they are coming to me for advice. We are the all or nothing generation, there is no more sitting on the fence. Imagine what it would look like if we took our youth seriously when they say they feel called to ministry! I've graduated now, and if I had taken the advice of those who told me I was too young to know of I was called to missions to not I would have missed out on over ten years of studying the Bible, how to communicate the gospel to people of other religions, praying for people groups where no one knows Jesus. TEN YEARS! How is this acceptable?

Anyways, TLDR the only reason I know what i do of the Bible is because I took it upon myself to study, and the sad truth is most students don't even know enough to make that decision. We have the reverse problem of 1 Corinthians 3:1-2, where students are longing for solid food, but we are only fed milk.

[her-satanic-wiles]

hi! I've been struggling with my college course and super stressed with it and I was wondering if you could write a Sodo/Swiss×reader where reader has a panic attack and they calm her down?

Thank you!

Hiya, lovely!

I don't normally answer requests and my requests are closed indefinitely, but I thought I'd make an exception with this. I hope you feel better soon, and please take breaks when you need to. I've been through college and uni (twice) and I know how fucking awful the assignments can be. Your loved ones are there for you when you need them. Eat, stay hydrated and please be kind to yourself!

I also decided to use both Sodo (Dew) and Swiss because fuck it. Why have one when you could have two? Warnings: sfw, detailed panic attacks, comfort.

Your teeth were numb from the heavy breathing you’d been doing, coupled with your racing mind and thumping heart, you were crouched in the corner of the L-shaped bookcase of the Ministry’s library. You were all alone in this section of the library, which is usually how you liked it. But today the weight of your assignments loomed over you and bore down on your shoulders, adding vast amounts of pressure to your mind you could barely concentrate on your homework. So much to do and not enough time to do it in left you feeling panicked and helpless.

And that’s how you found yourself in this position: crouched and shivering, fighting with your own lungs because they just wouldn’t fill. You’d barely had enough time to shoot Dewdrop a text that stated simply, help. Library. Before you felt your world crashing down around you and spinning on its axis at unbearable speeds.

When Dew arrived, he wasn’t alone: Swiss was swift on his heels once he’d called for him. They’d split up to try and find you as quickly as possible, and Dew was the first one to your position. Dew, immediately, no questions asked dropped to his knees in front of you and forced you to look at him.

“Slowly,” he commanded, calm and gentle as you needed him to be, yet urgent enough to have you listen, “breathe in… one… two… three… out… one… two… three…”

Swiss turned the corridor shortly after while Dew was helping you regulate your breaths, and picked up your bottle of water you’d left on the desk. Once your breathing had steadied and the tears began to flow, Swiss undid the cap for you and handed you the thermos. “Small sips, baby,” he told you softly, “there you go.”

As Swiss’ large hands stroked your hair, Dew had wrapped you up in his arms and, once the water had been safely handed back to Swiss let you sob onto his shoulder.

Dew continued to hold you tightly, his embrace providing a sense of security amid the chaos that had enveloped your mind. He whispered words of reassurance, a soothing cadence that helped to ground you in the present moment.

“You’re okay. We’re here for you,” Dew murmured, his voice a steady anchor. “Take all the time you need. There’s no rush. We’ve got your back.”

Swiss, still stroking your hair with a tenderness that fit his kind demeanor, offered a comforting presence. “You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ll help you through it. One step at a time.”

As your sobs began to subside, Dew pulled away gently, keeping one hand on your shoulder. “Feeling a bit better?” he asked, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You managed a shaky nod, the weight on your chest easing with each passing moment. Swiss handed you a tissue, and you wiped away the remnants of your tears. They both stayed close, allowing you the space to gather yourself without judgment.

Swiss took a seat beside you, offering a warm smile. “You are smart, brave, and wonerful. We believe in you and love you so, so much.”

Dew chimed in, his eyes reflecting genuine concern. “And if you ever need a break, or just someone to talk to, we’re right here. The Ministry’s demands can be overwhelming, but you don’t have to face it alone.”

The three of you came to an agreement to leave the library and locate a more private area to reorganise. As you walked together, Dew draped an arm around your shoulders and Swiss on the other, making a safe cocoon. Their solidarity wrapped around you like a cosy shawl, bringing solace in the face of academic difficulty.

As the sun set below the horizon, giving a warm glow over the tranquil scene, you sat together in a hidden part of the library garden, surrounded by ancient trees and the soft whisper of leaves. Dew and Swiss listened to your concerns and fears, offering words of support and sharing their own experiences. The weight on your shoulders began to lift, and you were able to take strength from the support of loyal friends.

[take-taker-taken]

Hi lovely! I'm the person who requested the ministry taker x gothic female reader fic. I'd absolutely love a part 2/continuation with smut. As for kinks, I'm a green light girly on pretty much everything lol. Bdsm, impact play, hair pulling, choking, slapping, the works honestly. I feel like ministry taker would be the absolute best dom so yeah. Feel free to run wild and have fun! Thank you so much 💕

Ok, here it is! I went for firm but (mostly) gentle domination, as I feel that would be Ministry’s style - thank you for your patience as I worked on it!

Link to Part One is at the bottom.

Lessons

“Very well, girl - you leave me no choice but to teach you some consequences for your teasing.” He dips his head and kisses you again before drawing back to nip at your lips with his teeth. You reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck and let your head fall against his chest as he carries you from the room while muttering dark, lustful promises.

He doesn’t stop in the bedroom as you’re expecting, but carries you through to the annexe that’s attached. It’s essentially his own private dungeon and a room that terrified you when you first saw it, but now you feel a thrill go through you as he sets you down on to your feet. The lighting is permanently low, with shadows in all the right places… he made you stand in a corner in here once and it was so dark that it felt as though you may as well be locked in a cupboard.

“Do not move.” He says and carries on over to a trunk against the wall which he opens and reaches into. He turns back to find you twisting the ball of one foot nervously against the floor. “I told you to be still, girl.” There’s no hint of the playful man from before and so you instantly freeze in place and instead track him with your eyes as he moves to a wooden cabinet on the wall. Your heart is pounding and you can feel goosebumps rising on your skin even though the temperature is fine.

He advances and stands before you, whatever items he’s selected hidden in his cavernous sleeves.

“Remove your clothes.”

No response from you is required other than obedience and so you quickly do as he says until you’re naked before him. You lick your lips nervously because you can see the glint in his eye as he produces a simple leather collar. You raise your chin slightly as he steps behind you and buckles it firmly around your throat. The collar going on signals the beginning of one of your sessions and you gasp quietly as something is draped firmly over your shoulder, but you don’t move to try and see what it is. He moves into your line of sight and you’re transfixed as he removes his cloak in a swirl of velvet, revealing a sleeveless leather vest. You stare at his chest until he moves in closer and tilts your head back with a nudge of one long finger.

“I said that I would teach you some consequences, little one. Are you ready to learn?”

“Yes, master.” Your voice is soft and you wish he would kiss you. He smiles at your response in that quietly leering way.

“A little pain is in order, I think - to focus the mind, but first...” He reaches up and you brace yourself for a slap but then realise that all he’s done is remove what he placed there just now. It’s dark purple jute rope, worn soft by many uses. He turns it loose and then with a hand on your shoulder, turns you to face away from him. “Put your hands behind your back.” You do as he says and his cool fingers guide you until your arms are set the way he requires. He first ties your hair back and then works quietly and efficiently, making knots and smoothing the rope as he creates a beautiful shibari chest harness, the rope sitting snugly as a support for your breasts. The ends of the cord tickle as they dance across your skin but you resolutely keep still and close your eyes as you enjoy the gentle restraint.

You open them again when you realise that he’s completed his work and watch as he crosses to the wall that houses a huge array of impact toys. You’d struggled to think of them as ‘toys’ at first, unable to reconcile the idea of being hit with that term but now it’s commonplace to you. He stands there, contemplating, a couple of times reaching for an implement only to change his mind and retract his arm. When he does turn back to you, he’s holding a riding crop and your breath catches because you know how versatile it can be in the right hands. He stops a couple of feet away and uses the keeper of the crop to raise your chin.

“You will keep still.”

You stare up at him in trepidation as you give a tiny nod and whisper, “Yes, master.”

He moves behind you and it takes a lot of willpower not to turn and look, especially since he’s stood far enough back that you can’t detect exactly where he is - not that it matters, really. A sudden small explosion of pain blooms against your shoulder and you gasp and twitch, but manage not to move beyond that. A few seconds later the next one lands on the back of your thigh, and then another in the middle of your back, just above where your hands are tied together. After that the blows come more quickly as he moves around you in a slow circle, the blows raining down. Strikes land on your stomach, your backside, the top of your breast and then a particularly hard blow that lands directly on to your nipple. Unable to stop yourself you bend forwards as you cry out, resulting in him taking hold of your hair and straightening you up again.

“Much as I like to see you to bow to me, I told you to keep still.” Keeping the grip on your hair, he steps up close and runs his hand over each of your breasts in turn, giving a gentle tweak to each of your nipples.

“I’m sorry, master - I’ll try harder.” You pant softly as you enjoy the feel of his hands on your skin and in your hair.

He guides your head to one side, leans down and bites where your neck meets the shoulder before answering. “I’m sure you will little one, but the fact remains that you’ve earned a penalty for your disobedience.” He reaches into a pocket and draws out a pair of silver clamps connected by a chain and then without further commentary, attaches them to each of your nipples in turn.

You whimper through gritted teeth but at the same time feel that rush of moisture. He steps back and uses the tip of the crop under your chin as a silent command to look at him. As you bravely meet his intense gaze, one corner of his mouth pulls up into a smirk. Seemingly satisfied he takes up where he left off, moving around you and delivering random blows. Each one does the job of taking your mind off the constant, low-level pain in your nipples but as he finally sets the implement down to one side you mentally breathe a sigh of relief.

“It pleases me to see you bearing the marks from my whip,” he says, delicately taking hold of the chain that links the clamps. He tugs on it lightly and you watch the links glinting in the low light, and stare down at the reddened, squeezed flesh of your nipples and then open your mouth in a silent scream as with a flick of his wrist, he pulls the chain hard and wrenches the clamps off. You don’t even have time to react when he steps forward and envelopes you in his arms, holding you tightly as with your face turned to one side, you groan the pain into his upper arm.

“Thank you, master.” No matter how much it hurts, you know to always thank him for such concessions.

He soothes you, with his fingers gently scratching across the nape of your neck. “There’s my good girl. You’re to kneel down for me, now.”

He releases you from his hold and steps back as you carefully lower yourself to your knees, secretly delighted. You love to be down on the floor as he towers above, and you make sure to kneel up straight, your breasts thrust proudly forward by the harness he’s placed you in.

You watch as his fingers move to his waist and undo the ties of his leather pants. He loosens them bit by bit… methodically, just like he does everything and then pushes them down his thighs. Unconsciously, your tongue darts out to wet your lips as his hard length come into view - and it’s in proportion to his size in general. You manage to stop yourself from leaning forward, knowing that it would earn you an instant reprimand and instead settle for gazing up at him, waiting for the moment when he looks down at you.

He looks you in the eye as strokes himself gently, a pleased smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth and then with his free hand he gently pulls you forwards. You open your mouth but with a grip on your hair he stops you short.

“Are you enjoying your lesson?” He rumbles and you give him a tiny smile and nod as best you can.

“Yes, master, thank you. Please… please will you let me taste you?”

He quirks an amused eyebrow. “Hungry for me to ruin that lipstick are you, little one?”

You nod again. “Very, master.”

“So be it.” With that, he guides you forward again and you take him into your mouth, exhaling with a soft moan as your senses are filled with him. The flat of your tongue presses against the hard column and you move your head as you explore the familiar territory. You draw back and sure enough, a smear of your carefully-applied lipstick is left behind on the pale skin. You shift slightly on your knees as you suck on the head, flickering your tongue over the spongy flesh and teasing into the slit.

He hums appreciatively and you flush with pride that it’s your actions that have caused the sound, and so you frown with slight concern when moments later he uses his hold on your hair to gently remove you.

“Would you like me to ruin that pretty eye make up, too?”

You lick your lips and take a breath before purposely straining a little against his hold. “Yes please, master… teach me a lesson, just like you promised?”

He tightens his grip on your hair and you feel his knuckles brush the back of your head. “You little slut,” he mutters in a tone of dark delight and then without further ceremony he pushes his dick roughly back into your waiting mouth. He plunges intentionally too far so that you choke, holding you tightly to prevent you from pulling away. Your eyes instantly cloud with tears that spill over and run down your face in hot trails. He draws his hips back and you gasp for air before he pushes back in and holds you tight again. Having your arms tied behind your back adds another level of vulnerability and you instinctively try to swallow around the obstruction which makes you gag and choke again.

“Remember that you asked for this,” He says blandly as he once again pulls you off his dick and graciously waits while you cough, strings of saliva hanging from your lips. He bends down and looks you right in the eye as he repeats, “You asked for this, little one.”

You stare back into the hazel green eyes and think how beautiful he is as you nod dumbly and press your thighs together. You open your mouth again and he nods back before straightening up and guiding himself back between your lips. His pace is slower this time but he still forces himself into your throat and seems to take delight in watching your body strain for air as he holds you in place. Just as you think this part of your session might be over he ups the speed again and you sob and just hang in his grasp as he uses you. The next time he stops and withdraws, he brushes a thumb over your cheek, collecting the tears on the pad of his huge digit.

“Well, I would deem that a success,” he says, showing you the make-up stained liquid before wiping it across your forehead. “Your face is a mess, little one.”

You pant for breath and when you speak your voice is cracked due to the abuse of your throat. “Th… thank you, master.”

“Good little slut,” His small smile makes it all worth it and then he’s urging you to your feet. He takes a minute to run those big hands over your shoulders and upper arms, sneaking in some hard pinches and twists to your nipples. The bondage harness he has you in is comfortable, but he wants to make sure that your limbs aren’t under too much pressure. Satisfied that your muscles aren’t under duress he slides one big hand down, fingers questing as they find their way between your thighs and without any pre-amble he pushes one inside you.

With a gasp, your hips tilt towards him as he pumps his finger slowly in and out and then he withdraws it and shoves it roughly into your mouth, making you gag again before you carefully clean it. His other hand, which seems to have taken up permanent residence in your hair, then steers you from the dungeon room back into the bedroom that you share. He walks you up to the bed and then stops, pulling you back against him and running his hands over your body.

“You are here for my pleasure,” he says quietly, his finger stroking the edge of the leather collar as your lean your head back against his chest. “Over,” he adds, pushing you forward and switching his hold to the ropes that bind your hands together behind your back. He kicks your feet apart and then you feel his cock pushing at your entrance and you let out a whimpering sigh as he slides inside you. His strokes are slow and deliberate and you bring yourself up to tiptoes to change the angle and try to feel him even more.

“So hungry for me aren’t you, little one?” He speaks as you feel his fingers picking at the ropes, though the movement of his hips never ceases. “So wet and needy…”

You murmur an agreement, too caught up in the feeling to manage to form a proper sentence. You notice the ropes loosening where he’s been working at the knots and then grumble slightly when he withdraws. It earns you a sharp smack to your backside before he quickly dismantles the harness and manhandles you on to the bed. You lay on your back, staring up as he kneels astride you on all fours with his long hair hanging down, the ends gently brushing your skin.

“You’re quite the sight there, little slut.” He leans down and you’re sure he’s going to kiss you but he stops just a few inches from your mouth and says, “Want me to finish the job?”

You wriggle beneath him, trying to spread your legs wider. “Yes, master… please!”

He climbs up again and slowly divests himself of his clothing, casting each piece aside without taking his eyes off you. It’s a gargantuan effort not to delve your hand between your thighs and start without him, so you lay with your arms spread wide and fingers gripping into the sheets, feeling for all the world like a willing sacrifice. Your gaze fixes on his straining erection as he takes himself in hand and gives it a couple of firm strokes before returning to bed and taking up his former position.

“You are mine,” he says, giving your lips a soft peck before drawing back again and then with no warning he thrusts into you hard, driving the breath from you in a shout. He holds still inside you and adds, “Mine to use however I see fit.” He dips down and kisses you again as he starts to move slowly.

You dare to move a hand and rest it on the back of his neck as he breaks the kiss. “Yours, master.” He intertwines his fingers with those on your free hand and you whimper at the feeling of being overpowered as he pushes it firmly to the mattress. “Please… please master, more… harder… please…”

Your hand falls from his neck and he instantly covers it with his own and grants your request, picking up the pace and driving into you with a force that would push you across the bed if he wasn’t pinning you. His eyes are constantly watching your reactions which means he sees you staring hungrily at his rippling biceps and his broad chest. You would love to touch him, but the counterpoint is the submissive rush you get from being denied as he holds you down. You bend your knees and squeeze your thighs around his hips - the move seems to make those green eyes flash and he moves one of his hands to settle on your throat.

“Desperate little slut,” he growls, and this time his voice betrays his exertion. He squeezes gently on your neck and it’s as much as you can do to hold off climaxing there and then. “I can feel you grasping around me, little one.”

“Please can I come, master?” Your voice is small and you push your neck against his hold as much as you dare. “Please let me…”

He slows his pace and the smirk returns as he sees an opportunity to tease you some more. He leans in close again until he’s practically murmuring against your lips.

“This is supposed to be a consequence for your impudent behaviour earlier,” he says. “I’m not sure that you deserve to come.”

Your eyes go wide and you bite your lip before squeezing his hand as hard as you can and replying, “I’m sorry, master - I’ve learned my lesson, I promise! Please will you let me… please?”

He does kiss you then and you whimper brokenly into his mouth because this is too much… the sensation of him inside you, his unrelenting grip on your hand and the pressure on your throat as his tongue explores your mouth… You open your eyes as he breaks the kiss and then his hand shifts from your throat and taps your cheek as he says quietly,

“Come for me.”

He grinds himself against you, giving you the pressure you need and you cry out your orgasm. You feel in torn in two directions, with wanting to drag him even closer as well as back off from the intensity. He holds you tight, lips pressed to your temple as you ride the waves, even as his own pleasure drives him into you even deeper than before. His movement slows and then stills and he pushes his long hair back from his face to reveal a tender smile playing about his lips. He slips gently from you and rolls to one side, bringing you with him so that you lay facing one another.

“Lesson learned?” He asks, one arm curled around you.

“For now… master.” You reply with a shy smile, snuggling in against his shoulder.

“You did very well, little one - I’m proud of you.” Out of everything that’s happened, it’s those words that make you blush and you whisper your gratitude into his tattooed skin. He carefully shifts around so that he can hold you better, enveloping you in his huge arms. “Do you want to keep the collar on for a little while longer?” He asks quietly.

“Yes, please. Can… can I sleep in it?” You reply and he hums and kisses the top of your head.

“If you wish, though it might not be very comfortable. Perhaps I should get you another that’s softer and more suitable for that kind of thing.”

“I’d like that,” you answer with a smile, excited at the prospect. You extract your arm from where it’s trapped between the two of you so that you can hug him properly.

“There’s my good girl,” he says, rubbing his thumb in small circles on your shoulder while he gropes for the covers with his other hand. He draws them up over the both of you and you close your eyes and sigh with happiness as you lay in contented silence. After a couple of minutes he shifts and slips out of the bed but you don’t move until he returns and gently nudges your shoulder. “Sit up a little for me; we need to take the rest of that make up off.”

Reluctantly, your eyelids flutter open and see that he’s brought all the relevant supplies and you sleepily shift as directed until he’s sat behind you. It’s him that works to gently remove the smeared mess that he created, punctuating the task with small kisses and whispered praises, determined that you needn’t be pulled from your relaxed state. Job done, he sets everything aside before guiding you back under the covers and holding you tightly as you drift off, the fingers of one hand resting against your collar.

TTT

Previous

[starlingflight]

Ginniversary Drabble 9

Prompt: B1 - You sort of start to believe anything's possible if you've got enough nerve.

AO3 or read below:

It had been an exceptionally long morning. Not, as Harry would have preferred, because of any threat posed by a dark wizard, but because of the sheer amount of tremendously boring meetings he was expected to attend in his new position as the Deputy Head of the Auror Office. 

His eyes flicked to the clock on the far wall of the stuffy meeting room he'd been sequestered in for the past hour. They were now two minutes over the allotted time to discuss the thrilling topic of the proper layout of risk assessments, and still there was no end in sight. 

Harry stifled a yawn behind his hand. Across the table, Hermione was still scrawling furiously across her parchment; it was almost like being back in History of Magic. 

Except he had never been rescued from History of Magic by a very sheepish looking trainee popping their head into the room and declaring, “sorry to interrupt, Mr Potter, but your wife is here, and she says she needs to speak to you.” 

Hermione looked up sharply from her parchment, throwing him a questioning look across the table. Harry shrugged wordlessly, torn between utter delight at being saved from the drudgery of the meeting by an alternative as pleasant as Ginny, and concern that she'd apparently shown up, unplanned, in the middle of the day. 

He wasted no further time excusing himself from the table and slipping out the door, where he immediately found Ginny awaiting him in the corridor beyond. 

“Sorry,” Jenkins, the trainee, said. “I told her I'd fetch you, but she wouldn't wait at your desk.” 

Ginny shook her head. “And I told you, I'd find him myself, if you'd just tell me where he was.” 

In fairness to Jenkins, he only shrunk slightly under the weight of Ginny's accusatory glare. “I'm sorry, Mrs Potter, but as I said, I can't allow you to go wandering around the Ministry unescorted–” 

“Well, I'm escorted now,” Ginny said sharply. Her hand slipped into Harry's, and he couldn't help but notice it was trembling slightly. “Consider the Ministry safe from the threat of an unsupervised Quidditch player.” 

“Thanks, Jenkins,” Harry said in a slightly more amiable tone. “I've got it from here.” 

A look of relief washed over Jenkins’ round face. He nodded his head sharply in acknowledgement of the dismissal, and then quickly took off down the corridor in the direction of the lifts. 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, now able to focus all of his attention on Ginny. Her hand was gripping his tightly, and her foot was tapping impatiently against the polished wood floor. “I think you might have made Jenkins cry.” 

Only one side of her mouth curved into a smile, and even that quickly fell again. “Surely he's got to have more fortitude than that if he wants to be an Auror.” 

“We usually start them off with something a little bit less intimidating than your temper.”

Her laugh was short; Harry suspected she'd given it over reluctantly. “Is there somewhere private nearby?” She asked. “I don't know this floor.” 

They were on one of the lower levels, a rarely visited section of the Ministry that was, in Harry's opinion, a fitting location for the pointless meeting he'd just escaped. 

He could take her back to the Auror Office, it was almost lunchtime; no doubt he'd be able to find a spare meeting room now, but he could feel nervous energy radiating off Ginny in waves, and he doubted she had the patience for the journey. 

Moreover, Harry doubted he had the patience for the journey when every moment he spent in Ginny's mysteriously agitated presence was causing trepidation to rise more strongly within him. 

“Come here,” he said decisively, pulling her a few steps down the hallway until he reached an innocuous wooden door. It opened to reveal a small, tidy broom closet. 

Ginny hesitated for only a moment, casting him a doubtful look, before ultimately stepping inside. Harry followed her in, letting the door fall shut behind them with a soft click. 

“Lumos.” 

The light from his wand cast an ethereal glow over the tiny space, illuminating the stacked boxes of Magical Mess Remover, several ancient sweeping brooms, and Ginny's tense face. 

Her hand tightened in Harry's; she drew a deep breath. “This is really not the appropriate place to tell you this.” 

“Tell me what?” Her nervousness was infectious in the tiny broom cupboard; his stomach began to tie itself in knots. 

“I probably should have thought of some clever way of doing it.” 

His nerves seemed to tense beneath his skin. “Doing what?”

“I was going to tell you at home, but I couldn't wait that long, it was torture–” 

“Gin, you're torturing me.” 

“Right. Sorry.” She slid her free hand into the pocket of her robes with agonising slowness. When she removed it, she held a small glass bottle out to Harry. 

He placed his wand on the stack of Mess Remover boxes, angling the ignited tip at the vial and illuminating the vibrant purple potion within. 

“Purple for positive,” Ginny said, her voice unnaturally high. 

“You're–” Harry didn't manage more than a single word; his mind was reeling, his brain had ceased functioning, and the only thing his instincts told him to do was pull Ginny closer. 

He felt her breathe a sigh of relief against his lips, and then he was kissing her with such ferocity that neither of them could catch their breath. 

The knots in Harry's stomach unwound, replaced by soaring elation that set his head spinning faster, and made clinging onto Ginny even more necessary than it usually was. 

His elbow knocked into the stacked boxes beside him, sending them tumbling. His wand clattered across the floor. 

Ginny broke apart from him. They were both laughing breathlessly. 

“You're happy then?” She asked, her grin visible even in the dimness of the cupboard. 

“Yeah,” Harry tried to frown, but his smile seemed to be permanently fixed to his face. “Did you think I wouldn't be?” 

“I thought you might be a bit anxious,” she admitted, still smiling widely. “It's a bit of a daunting prospect… y'know, raising a child… making sure you don't mess it up.” 

“True,” Harry agreed, though the scope of the task did not seem capable of penetrating his europhoria at the current moment. “But, you see, the thing about being married to Ginny Potter, is you sort of start to believe anything's possible if you've got enough nerve.” 

[saintsenara]

hi! any thoughts on antonin dolohov? back in the day i used to have a huge obsession with him, i remember when i was reading deathly hallows for the first time i was so happy when he got mentioned like 3 times in passing... anyway, it's been a long time but i still have a soft spot for this character and was curious how you imagine his background and motivations and whatnot. does he survive the war? and most importantly, why the hell does he always get petrificus totalused, is it a coincidence, a conspiracy or an ancient curse on his family?

thank you very much for the ask, anon! having an elaborate backstory for random death eaters is my bread and butter [i'd walk through fire for augustus "irrelevant" rookwood] and so - yes - i do indeed have thoughts on antonin dolohov.

most of these are connected to the geopolitics of wizarding russia, which - given both the small magical population, the fact that the need to maintain the statute of secrecy seems to drive wizards to accept fairly authoritarian systems of government, and the fact that elves fill the roles of serfs - almost certainly doesn't have the right social conditions to foment a parallel to the 1917 revolution. i'm obsessed with the idea of russian purebloods living bizarre ancien régime lives as the muggle world around them changes unrecognisably.

i know dolohov doesn't actually have to be a russian national - he could be a british citizen with a russian name - but jkr tends to only use non-commonwealth surnames [under which colonial umbrella come names like "patil" or "chang"] for characters who are non-british nationals, like fleur, krum, or karkaroff. and since i'm obsessed with the fact that voldemort seems to spend so much of his travels in the eastern bloc - and that there are two death eaters with slavic-language names, but no order members or ministry officials - i like to imagine that he is.

when it comes to the man, though, the canon incidental character detail which i love is that dolohov is clearly a great pal. he travels all the way to hogsmeade to wish voldemort luck for his interview and buy him a drink after:

"Then if I were to go to the Hog's Head tonight, I would not find a group of them - Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, Dolohov - awaiting your return? Devoted friends indeed, to travel this far with you on a snowy night, merely to wish you luck as you attempted to secure a teaching post."

[dumbledore's just being a bitch here because he's so gutted he doesn't have a group of lads ready to assemble for pints at any opportunity...]

dolohov is also is gassed for yaxley when he achieves his greatest professional triumph:

"My Lord, I have good news on that score. I have - with difficulty, and after great effort - suceeded in placing an Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse." Many of those sitting around Yaxley looked impressed; his neighbour, Dolohov, a man with a long, twisted face, clapped him on the back.

[voldemort - in contrast - couldn't give less of a fuck because he's too busy flirting with snape. so real of him.]

so i think we have the answer as to why he seems so susceptible to the ol' petrificus totalus: he's easily ambushed because he's so busy being impressed by everything else going on around him.

[ps-cactus]

Shades of Silver Lining - Ch. 3 - posted ✅

Ch.2 <- | Ch.4 (coming soon) the first post aka story teaser + tags

was too long for me, so I posted in two parts pt.1 - word count: 2280 ✨ [ AO3 ] ✨ [ Wattpad ] pt.2 - word count: 4670 ✨ [ AO3 ] ✨ [ Wattpad ]

Thank you @accio-bagel for beta reading, I'd be so doomed without you 💖

no pressure ping: @thursdaymoonrise11 , @espressoristretto-patronum , @diana-bluewolf , @acslytherpuff , @girl-named-matty pressure ping: @savingsallow 😆💖

a/n: It's a short story, so we escalate quickly and die like men. SORRYSORRYSORRYSORRY I'M SO SORRY. Also, why is Alyn wearing Slytherin scarf?.. AND I'M SORRY

lil excerpts with mild spoilers (ellipses to avoid big spoilers) under the cut:

・・・⚔️ “Do you believe it was some random accident?” Officer Foster folded his hands behind his back, towering even more than usual. "[...]. ‘Funny,’ was it?" His gaze was never one to hold sympathy, but this time Alyn could have sworn she even saw a smirk in the corners of his dark eyes.

"Not here," Officer Singer stepped between them, casting a worried look at the anxious crowd. "[...] We need to finish up here and handle this crowd."

"Yes, do handle it, Singer," Foster nodded, his attention immediately shifting back to Alyn. Officer Singer hesitated, as if about to speak, but then walked off in silence and haste. Alyn irritably noted that Sebastian remained where he was, eyeing Foster expectantly.

"May I have a look at your wand, Miss Salters?" Foster took another step closer, holding out his hand, his leather gloves catching the light of street lanterns. 

"No," she answered, not even blinking, [...]. 

"Got something to conceal?"

In her dream, Alyn had been ready to obliterate him, to forever reduce this man to ashes she’d watch to fall on the street’s cobblestones. He was the one who kept her for weeks at the Ministry, encouraging experiments with her magic in the Department of Mysteries, only to restrain her afterwards with an Unbreakable Vow. And all that because she’d been honest. Far too honest, the day he used Veritaserum. Seeing him as ash on the ground—that’s how she would have preferred it.  ・・・

・・・ ☕️ Sebastian returned with a small cup in his hand. "Still a lot of people down there. [...] Can’t see how you drink this all the time, but here you go,” he commented, handing her the cup. “Call it survival,” Alyn shot back, raising a cup in a toast before inhaling the rich aroma. She sipped her drink, and the hot, velvety taste brought her a small relief—yet only physical.

"So, in those reports you give to Foster," her gaze lifted, locking with Sebastian’s. "How often am I mentioned?" 

There is also Ominis in this chapter, but not a single sentence about him goes without big spoiler, so... Just trust me, he's there. And some trio dynamics—I put a kettle "Ominis" on fire here 🥲 and leaving it there for a while.