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loving-daisy · 16 days ago

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Where’s the Trophy? | Draco Malfoy x Reader

loving-daisy masterlist

Words: 8.1k

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

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it wasn’t just that.

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

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

Y/N Weasley wasn’t having it.

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

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

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

Her stomach twisted as she stared at the accompanying photograph.

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

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

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

At least, that’s what she told herself.

But the universe wasn’t done testing her resolve.

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

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

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

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

“Busy, Weasley?” he drawled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Prove it,” she said finally.

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

She raised an eyebrow. “What act?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Y/N wasn’t going to make it easy.

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

“Ms. Weasley,

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

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

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

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

What the hell?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

signed,

Y/N Weasley | Senior Editor at The Alchemy

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

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therocketeer0501 · 6 days ago

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Yelling at him. He probably deserved it…. I love him sm

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janesinner · 29 days ago

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SG! Sentinel Prime x Female! High Guard! Reader

Transformers One

In this POV: the Reader is a member of the High Guard, who used to have a very close relationship with Sentinel, before he switched.

🦋🦋 part: 2

Y/N POV:

When I opened my eyes, I foundmyself on my knees in a golden room. My vision is blurry and my head still rang from the fight. Flashbacks from the fight ran in my mind, as I remembered D-16 challange my dearest friend Starscream. But I could do anything as Soundwave held me and Shockwave back.

Before anyone knew it, Airachnid and her mans rushed in and attacked. I found myself face to face with her, before she over powered me and kidnapped me.

My F/C optics widen in horror once I heard the familiar voice of my once called friend. My spark froze as his loud footsteps approaches me. "Well! If that's not the infamous High Guard! You guys gave me trouble finding you!"

Sentinel Prime smirked as he walked past imprisoned High guards, satisfaction visible on his faceplate. Just then, my optics met his red ones. For a second he froze, and his smirk twitched. I quickly looked away, my spark beating rapidly. I could hear him laugh hearty he praised Airachnid. "Airachnid! You even found Y/N!"

I heard as Sentinel walked up to my side, and smirked down at me

"My love~." "I'm NOT your 'Love'!" I growled as I looked up at him with hatred. My Optics met with his. His smirk widens more, as he leaned even closer towards me. I leaned further from him.

"Now now my love, Frown never suited your beautiful face." My frown only deepened as he placed his red servo under my chin and forced my head up. I jiggled my servos that were tightly locked in handcuffs, which only added boost to his smirk. "Tell me, Y/N, how were you living as an outcast? Mhm? Was Starscream taking good care of you?" Even with his gentle voice, I could tell he was holding his anger in check. His grip on my chin tightens as I stared in to his red optics. I remember the times they used to be blue. His whole frame was bluish and goldysh. Since the day, he turned his back on Sentinel and high Guard, he changed. He was no longer the man I respected and looked up to.

Sentinel and I were very close. Many thought we were dating but we weren't. I always loved Starscream, tho he was never the most kindest and wises, but he always sacrificed so much so save those he cared about.

Sentinel knew it, if only I knew what I know today, I would had thought it was another reason of his betray.

Flash back :

"SENTINEL! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!" I shouted in horror. My spark was hammering against my chasis, as I watched Sentinel walking alongside with the Quintessons out of the cage. We acquired a distress call from Alphatrion, but it seems we were late.

Sentinel looked down on as, with an expression I couldn't read. The quintesson next to him growled something and raised it's gun at us, but Sentinel pushed it down as he made few steps towards me.

"Y/N..." He extended his blue servo towards me. As his blue Optics mixed with mine. "Come with me. I can treat you like a royally. You'll live like a Queen by my side, you'll have gold t-cog and live your best life, if... you'll become my Conjux Endura." I gasped as he opened his chasis, and revealed his spark chamber to me. That's when I saw it. Megatronus Primes t-cog, proudly shining in my optics, I stared at him in disbelieve, as I backed away. For a second, I could see pain in his blue optics. He made a step back and looked at his chasis, as he placed his servo over it.

"You'll pay for your betray, Sentinel!" Starscream growled, as he stood infront of me protectively, painting his nullray at him.

Sentinel, very slowly looked up back at us, his blue optics now filled with hatred, as a cruel smirk slowly rises. "No... I will not." With a single nod, all of those quintessons lifted their guns at us, and another fight began...

Present time:

"You're no longer the person I care about, you changed, Sentinel. And not for good!" I said with venom in my voice. He only chuckled once again, as he released my chin and walked past me. I could see B-127 looking at me with surprised expression. "Wait, you two knew each other before?"

"I thought I know him. But apparently I was wrong." B-127 looked even more shocked, but before he could say anything, he got interrupted by Sentinel, who looked really displeased. "Aw come on Y/N! It's still me just... in red, and I work for the Quintessons, and they did me a big honor- I mean look at me!" His smirk widens even more as he turned towards me, his gold wings high in the air and his chasis too. "I live as a King! And you could had live as my Queen, and you still can-" "I would rather die!" He only chuckled, as he looked at Airachnid and then back at me, he shook his head as he began to approach me with his servos behind his back. "Now there-" "leave her alone!" B-127 shouted at him. I was surprised by his bravely, but chill ran down my back, as my wings twitched with fear. Sentinel looked at him, with hatred. He frowned and began to approach him.

"Oh? And you think I'll listen to a little bot like you?" He almost laughed, and with few steps he approached him and leaned over him. "Because the last time I listened to a Iaconian, ended DEAD." "Why did you do it Sentinel! Why did you betrayed our friends! The Primes! Cybertron! What were you hoping to gain! A power! Was it worth it?!" I demanded to know. As he looked at me again, he calmed down lightly, as he straightened up and walked back up to me. "Yes, yed I was doing it for power, to live as a king, but the main reason, was you." He once again forced my chin up, as my optics met with his again. But this time... I didn't see the mech he become, no. I saw care and love in his optics. He released my chin and took my servos in his. "I could never impress you. I was just mere chief advisor. You were always running of to Primes and Starscream- so I had to do it! I couldn't lose you. You're everything to me. I love you, and you alone."

He leaned closer to me, his fore head pressed against mine, as he took a deep breath. "Come with me, I'll take good care of you." His words sounded so gentle, it brought back the memories when we were friends. He always hoped we could be something more, but we never were. I was with Starscream, and I love him deeply. I shook my head and looked up at him. "No."

The pain in his optics, they flickered again. He clearly didn't expected my rejection, as he backed away. He stared at him in disbelief for what felt like a minute, but then he growled, his optics burned with rage, as he stormed past me and towards Starscream, I screamed at him to leave him alone, but he ignored me. He grabbed Starscream by his throat and lifted him up, and tossed him over us, as he landed in front of our optics. He struggled to get on his feets, but sentinel stepped on his back, as he began to crush him with his pede. "Sentinel don't! Please!" I pleaded, as tears leaked down my cheeks. Sentinels gaze was stern, showing nothing but peace anger, as he slowly turned his head to me. His red menacing optics staring in to mine. He released Starscream and walked back up to me. "Look at you, always caring for others but never for me... but, that's good. Because now, I have a last proposal for you. So tell me... my love.~" I watched as he got on his knee again, and revealed his spark to me.

"Will you accept my offer now?

Let me know if you want a part 2~~

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tinydefector · 6 months ago

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Not really a request but more of a ramble. Ive always been torn betweenn Cybertronians not really having any material instincts and just essentially knowing how to function since creation. Kinda like Steven Universe. They can be young and differ in how much knowledge they hold but overall they have the bases of how to function without any caretaker needing to be around. But then I immediately start shaking at the thought of them having even stronger instincts that humans. Maybe closer to animals that have come to accept a human as their own. Just picturing a cybertronain seeing someone who's carrying and immediately is distressed on how little protection our clothes offer. Nows theirs a bot who keeps hissing at those who get to close other humans included. Their plating is ruffled and if they are a seeker their wings are spread in a threatening manner. May you have the patience of a Saint if said seeker has a large trine because now they all share the same feral need to protect. A con that stumbles upon a lost child and immediately claims them as their sparkling.( if you wanted to make it a bit gross I can imagine they do a forced adoption the same ways farmers do sometimes. Where they just kinds cover a stray baby with the fluids of a mother to create that connection. Kinda gross but I can see it being used to further claim a child) They consider the biological parents of the child nothing more than food and shelter for their now sparkling. They try a coo and speak to the child in their natural tongue. A seeker that chirps and clicks its glossa. A grounder that does low hums and songs like a whale. Sorry for the long ramble haha. I just think the ideas of cybertronains either having no idea what instincts are but also the ideas of them drowning in them. Or meeting humans just relights their feral mindsets in any and every way.

I happen to really love both ideas a lot. I enjoy the idea of Cybertronians not understanding family or parental rolls, Forged sparks start off in smaller frames and slowly gain more framing as they get older. Instead, it works more like a mentor and apprentice side of things. They teach you how to do your job, keep your head down like Terminus with Megatron. Their race doesn't have a name for the connection they have so in turn they call each other friend, but intruth it's more than that but they don't know how to explain it or express it, they dont raise the younger one but they are their for special events such as plating ceremonies. To Megatron Terminus is an elder, someone to be respected for his knowledge and teachings. And they both care for each other, when Terminus us gravelly injured Megatron does everything he can to try and help him because he feels like he owes it to terminus for everything the older bot as done for him. It's a mutual benefit of a bond that's isn't family but also is much closer than friendship.

But on the other hand, I look at Optimus and Codexa, and I love the idea that I found this little bitlet and instantly went mother mode. Practically scoops him up out of a hotspot and takes him home with her. She's very attentive and is the one who even names him. In all aspects, he is her son, and she does everything she can to try and raise a good mech, and she does a wonderful job. She teaches him to read, sings to him, and each plating ceremony, she keeps a piece of his old plating similar to humans and baby teeth. She celebrates when he gets his first job as a Liberian because she put so much effort into making sure he had a comfortable job, not wanting him to struggle like so many other mechs less fortunate.

And then there is my headcanon for birthed sparklings, which differs depending on what frame type they are. They experience different behaviours. Grounders are in different sub sections

- Tanks: Megatron, Tarn, Warpath, Blitzwing

- Mine frames: Megatron, Terminus,

- Hauliers : Optimus Prime, Sentinel Prime, Ironhide, Ratchet, Inferno, Kup,

- Emergency services: Prowl, Ratchet, Pharma, inferno

- Battle Chargers: Ironhide, Hound, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Trailbreaker, wheeljack, Tracks,

- Praxian carters: Prowl, Bluestreak, skids, Smokescreen,

- speeders: Rodimus, Drift, Jazz, mirage, redalert, blurr, Tracks,

- mini vehicle: Bumblebee, Tailgate, grapple,

- Vosian Fliers (later Seeker's): Starscream, skywarp, Thundercracker, sunstorm, Nacelle and so on all of the Jets.

- Helimech: Whirl,

- aerial Shuttle: Cosmos, Omega Supreme, Senator Shockwave.

- Combiners: stuntacons, combaticons, constructicons

- Cassettes/ mini bots: Ravage, Rumble, Frenzy, Rewind, Lazerbeak, buzzsaw

- non Traditional frames: Rung,

- Non shifters:

There's a lot more but these just just who I can think off off the top of my head.

____

Tankers and Mine frames don't get the luxury of families or raising sparklings, most of them are cold constructs, and don't get a chance to see life outside of mines or duties they have been put into. But if given the chance they are actually very protective of a sparkling, they will fight to the death for their bitlet even if it isn't their. Their behaviour is very similar to a bear mother with their protectiveness of a child, human or cybertronian.

Megatron's optics focus on the tiny form in his lovers arms. If it were any other situation, people would think he is glaring at the tiny baby being placed again in his Chassis. "They have no plating or outer frame, no protection." He states while looking to his lover. "They are a baby, Megs, human babies don't have anything like sparklings, they are very fragile," they explain with a smile as they watch their child try and grab Megatron's large digits. His optics soften as he watches their child as the baby babbles and giggles up at him. It makes a switch inside his possessor flick. Nothing would ever hurt this child. He would make sure of it. A deep rumble leaves his chassis as he lets them play with his large servos. A laugh leaves his lover as they watch him. "You look like a grizzly bear with a cub," they chuckle as they lean up to press a kiss to the side of his helm.

Hauliers tend to see a random sparkling and go. "You're mine now, I'm going to warp you up in bubble wrap and keep you in my cab so no one can hurt you" Hauliers tend to be very attentive carriers/ Sires to adopted or sparked bitlets. A lot of Hauliers tend to be very nomadic in the rust sea moving inpacks. They tend to behave more like migrating herds when on cybertron, but those who live in the cities tend to make a very homey and comfortable for sparklings. But also they are the ones who panic the most when their child puts something in their mouth they shouldn't have.

Optimus chuckles as he watches his bitlet roam around. Playing with sticks and mud. He sits not far off watching them as they play his optics soften as they giggle and let out little buzzes of excitement as they find a new rock. "They seem to be enjoying their first proper road trip," His lover calls out as they walk their way over to him. Leaning down to press a kiss to his Helm. "They are very fascinated by a lot of things on Earth," he rumbles his optics, meeting his partners. "Can you really blame them, I remember a certain bot being very fascinated with Terra's fauna when we first arrived here," they tease him. Another squeal of delight comes from their sparkling as they begin trying to chew on a rock. Optimus let's out a slight noise of panic as he quickly moves towards them. "No, no, Bitlets, you can't eat that," he states while trying to pry the rock from the little ones' servos. They squeak and squeal in protest before eventually letting go of the rock. Another laugh leaves his lover as they watch the two.

A lot of emergency vehicles tend to not be the best for being parents. Mainly due to their work and just not having the time for a bitlet. But they are very attentive to those who do have them, trying to calm them and make sure that they aren't hurt and can make it back to their parents. A lot of the time, they will put up the disgruntled act of the dad who said they didn't want a cat, but then ends up with a child curled up on his chest as he works.

Praxian carters tend to act very similar to seeker, but with children and sparklings its as if they can feel where they are but have a tendency of paranoid when they can't see their little ones. Their door wings will flicker and twitch when they hear their children and will respond back with soothing little clicks. A lot of the time, they will carry their sparklings on their back between their door wings.

Prowl wasn't impressed with Sunstreaker or Sideswipe. The two young mech burst out into fits of laughter watching him with a human baby strapped to his chest. His wings flutter in dispair as they begin taking photos to send to every mech they know. "Oh Primus Prowl, when did you get yourself a bitlet!" They ask while also fauning over the baby who giggles and reaches out with grabby hands. Prowl let's out a slight,all collection of angry clicks as his optics narrow in on the twins. "I am looking after them as their parent had an important meeting today," he snaps as he begins walking, trying to outpace the twins as they continue shooting questions at him. "But you have them strapped to your chassis like they are battle gear!" Sunstreaker laughs, which earns him a smack up the side of the helm from Prowl. "They are too small and too young to be left to their own devices, and the safest place for them is where I know they are," he grumbles before slamming the door to his office shut.

Speedster are one of the cybertronians who tend to forget their child exist sometimes, having no awareness until they are like something is missing. Oh Primus, where is my Bitty!. They are very live fast die hard kinda mechs and it translates over to their child. They are very much the one who will proudly show off their child who is currently eating something they shouldn't be. But they are also one of the most cuddly with their child. Curling up with them to their chassis as they purr loudly.

"RODIMUS PRIME, DRIFT DEADLOCK WHATBARE YOU LETTING MY BITLET EAT!" their voice boomed as their optics narrowed in on the two speedsters and sparkling. Drift turns around in an instant. "I tried to stop them, I swear, but Roddy dared them," he states. Rodimus looks sheepishly at his lover as their sparkling laughs and shouts. "Told you I could!" The little one shouts in excitement, not carrying about the disappointed look from their other parent. "You timeout, you Decontamination spray Now, and You... I'm not angry, but I'm disappointed, " they state, which makes Rodimus face drop. "Nooo. That's worse!" He shouts only to have his bitlet laugh at his whining.

Seekers are the most parent of all cybertronians to the point that some trines work as a family system. Each seeker is a carrier to one seekling, but also being the sire to another or having one seeker who is the sire to two. But then their is the others who aren't spark bonded to others in their Trine, because tries can consist of siblings, cousins, parents or complete strangers so each trine is different. but the family works to train and care for all of them together. They speak in a pigeoned vosian, which is a mix of chirps, thrills, and other little vocial noises. They are also the most social. With large gatherings for sparklings to meet and also bond with others so that they can eventually find their own trine.

For example, I love the idea of Thundercracker and skywarp being brothers, but starscream is trine bonded with them.

Acid storm, Nova storm being a bonded couple who ended up with Sunstorm who is much younger who try care for as their sparkling.

Dirge, Thrust and ramjet who are all random Seeker's who became friends at a young age and are a trine but aren't together at all, they be the boys who go out on the town and wake up in their flat with a hangover and a random mech/ Seeker in their berth.

Nacelle trills lightly as the little seekers curled up in blankets and pillows. Wings fluttering in delight as he watches the little mechs curl up again each other. His two lovers chuckle softly, watching how me preens and chirps and thrills at his two little bitlets. One of his lovers moves closer to him, resting their helm against his backstruts as his wings flutter again. "They are just sleeping sweetspark you can step away. They aren't going anywhere," they call out to him. "I know, they are just..." he starts before his other lover calls back. "Fresh, I know and very you, but they are here finally, you don't have to stand guard all the time," They tease before leading him into the room towards the fluffed up berth. "I think that's enough playing guard for the night"

____________

Link to second part for Megatron

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valacre · 10 days ago

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: ̗̀➛ Tender is the Soul

Starscream x Reader

Are you okay?

That question, asked in such a soft voice, persisted in echoing through his processor, yet no matter how much he tried he couldn’t force it out.

Are you okay?

It was pathetic. He had captured you, clutched you in his servo and squeezed until you’d started screaming in pain, and then he’d dropped you without care to remain trapped in the medical bay where Knockout could – he was forced to – watch over you for the meantime. You’d just been bruised, and you ached, but you’d be just fine, or so Knockout had said.

Are you okay?

His lord and master had been in a particularly bad mood today, accusing him of things both true and false, yet little did it matter on whether he defended himself or not, whether he begged or not. He was punished, brutally beaten in front of those who occupied the room, and yet still he had to beg for mercy, to promise to do better if he’d just be given another chance. Megatron hadn’t wished to listen and had told him that there would be no room for excuses today, but alas, he spared Starscream’s life; for now.

He was leaking energon when he’d returned to the medical bay. The injuries had felt bad. He’d realised they’d been much worse once Knockout took one glance at him and subtly gaped in shock. Starscream didn’t want to hear any of it. He didn’t want any false concerns thrown his way, any—anything that could trick him into lowering his guard. No Decepticon could be trusted to be his ally, his friend, and so he gritted his denta and allowed the doctor to mend his wounds before he leaked too much and grew critical.

The silence that followed after Knockout left – to give him time to recover – was as blessed as it was cursed because it was only thanks to that silence that your voice could be heard; small and soft as it was.

“Are you okay?”

And so, here he lay, staring dumbly at you as you sat within your glass cage. Your organic optical ridges were furrowed in either concern or wariness – Starscream guessed for the latter – and you were staring at him, or rather, at his wounds.

“What does it matter to you, fleshling?!” He’d snapped back, and you’d flinched and cast your optics away, curling further into a ball as you held your tiny arms around your legs, either for warmth or protection, Starscream couldn’t say, but it felt good to see you afraid of him.

Why would you care for his health? Why would you even ask? He was the one who brought you here. He was the one who’d doomed you to interrogation, torture, and most likely death. You obviously knew that, and yet you asked him if he was all right.

“That just looks like it hurts,” you said, voice so meek he barely heard you. “Does he hit you often? Megatron, I mean.”

Starscream scoffed. Who else could it be but Megatron?

“Of course, it hurts! Why do you care? If you think I’m going to let you go just because you try to ask for my well-being, then you’re wrong, fleshling. You have valuable information regarding the location of the Autobot base,” he said, then he began to think a little further, “but then again, I could give you a quick and painless end if you tell me all that you know right now, and you won’t fall to the same fate as I.”

You looked at him again, fleshy optics glancing him over, clearly thinking his offer through. However, instead of an answer, you chose to ignore his proposal as if he’d never given it to begin with.

“You’ve done awful things… but not even you deserve to be treated this way,” you said, and he was ready to get angry for your lack of cooperation, but your words struck something within him, and he was rendered momentarily speechless.

He wanted to believe that you were lying, doing what you could to save your own skin, but the look in your eyes told the truth. It wasn’t pity, no, but something else, something softer and kinder that made him feel all kinds of strange. He wasn’t used to receiving this kind of attention, and it almost made him uncomfortable.

He groaned and settled down, feeling miserable and angry, but at least his current condition made him somewhat safe from Megatron’s wrath once you were stolen back by the Autobots.

You’d been taken out of your cage, probably to another room for interrogation, and the glance you’d cast his way made his spark pulse uncomfortably. Your optics were so sweet, so tender, and your face – he began to wonder what it would be like to touch those cheeks – was furrowed in worry. For yourself, and him.

You worried for him.

Why would you worry… for him? You gained nothing from it. Your worry hadn’t spared you out of anything, so… why?

… why.

#vala writes #tfp #maccadam #transformers #starscream x reader #bit of starscream angst #this seeker need some loving and quick!#he's not used to it

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pinkanonwrites · 8 months ago

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Omg there is so much space inside an F22 air intake. Look at this engineer inspecting the inside of it. It's a safe place as long as the engine blades don't start up. It just immediately makes me start thinking about an engineer x Starscream fic. It's stuff like this that makes me a huge fan of seeing engineers in these bot fics lol.

The perfect snuggle spot, so long as your jet of choice doesn't decide they need to go anywhere on a whim. Starscream would be so DRAMATIC about the feeling of you weaseling your way up into his air intake in jet mode, whining and complaining about how strange it feels when in reality he enjoys the feeling of your tiny hands picking over his rotor blades just a little bit too much.

Thundercracker would sit painfully still, worried that if he shifted or transformed he may somehow squash you between his panels. Skywarp, meanwhile, waits until you're super focused before he starts rocking back and forth on his landing gear to startle you, cackling when you shriek.

#transformers #transformers x reader #x reader #starscream #tf starscream #skywarp #tf skywarp #thundercracker #tf thundercracker #seeker trine #tf headcanons #pink chat #ultra-phthalo #maccadam

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slytherizz · 1 year ago

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Bludgered - Sebastian Sallow x Female!MC/Reader

Summary: Sebastian never really knew what his friend saw in Isaac Cooper but he never questioned it - he made his friend happy. That is until a Quidditch match goes quickly awry and he realises his feelings for her may go far deeper than simple friendship.

Prompt from @monismateos Quidditch Seb x Slytherin Seeker F!MC. Thank you for your patience with this one lovely!

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, 7th Year, explicit sexual content, smut, mild violence, love confessions, semi-public sex, first time

You can find all the tags on Ao3

Condensation fogging the inside of Sebastian’s goggles made it almost impossible to see his frozen fingers clasped around the handle of his broom; let alone the Quidditch match itself. His hair was slicked down his forehead and he could already feel a splinter working its way under the skin of his palm.

He’d have to ask her to help him squeeze that out later.

Rain lashed in oppressive sheets as Sebastian circled the pitch diligently. He rolled his shoulder as much to keep the blood circling as it was to keep pace with the veering gusts that would knock a smaller man from his broom.

Sebastian hadn’t even wanted to try out for the blasted Quidditch team he grumbled inwardly as he swerved out of the line of the chasers keeping an eye on the skies to ensure their path was free of a hurtling bludger.

He’d only intended to watch and support his friend try out for the Slytherin Seeker position. Reyes had taken one look at him stuffing himself into the narrow stalls beside Ominis and declared he had a ‘beaters build’. Before he could protest she’d manhandled him onto a broom, forced a bat in his hand and next thing he knew he was being dragged out at the crack of dawn every morning in the baltic Scottish winter.

Anne had always been the Quidditch player not him – slight and nimble she’d taken great pleasure in outpacing her brother in front of Madam Kagawa.

Merlin, he missed the library.

He could be warm and dry watching the game from a respectable distance inside, book in hand. The cold stiffness in his bones seemed to creak in mourning because at that moment they felt like he’d never be dry again.

But he hadn’t wanted to disappoint her.

She’d looked so pleased when Reyes had offered them both a spot on the team. She’d flung her arms around his neck crowing with delight while Sebastian’s stomach had dropped like a stone. But with how her wide eyes had shone at him, small hands squeezing into his biceps, smile so wide and crooked like a crack of lightning; excitedly waiting for him to return her jubilation he hadn’t the heart to tell her that the absolute last thing he wanted was to be on the Quidditch team.

He'd never been particularly good at saying no to her.

So with a coil of despair tightening in Sebastian’s stomach, he muttered a silent goodbye to his books and his bed and returned her smile praying he didn’t look like a man walking to the gallows.

With how often Anne had badgered him to help her practice during the holidays when she was a Chaser; Sebastian consoled himself with the knowledge that he was a fair flyer. Better than a lot of the Gryffindor team evidently with how their Keeper practically wept every time he saw Rayes’ raven hair streaking towards his goalposts and as a Beater he could at least help keep an eye on their troublesome Seeker.

She was scouting high above him, robes burdened and sopping with water – it was a marvel the weight of them hadn’t made her sluggish. In fact, she barely seemed to notice the cold or the rain at all. Just as alert as she was at the beginning of the match. Floating ominously overhead she kept her silent vigil; like a hawk waiting for a rustle of prey in a dense forest. As impressive as it may be, Sebastian’s constitution was not as robust, and he just hoped she would catch the bloody snitch soon so he could pack it in.

“That’s Reyes with another 10 Points to Slytherin – Puddlemere United will have their hands full with that one next year!” Lucan’s crackly amplified voice shouted over the howling wind.

The thumping of feet heavy enough to break the rickety rafters and a roar of approval from the emerald-cloaked stands answered the chorus of groans from the scarlet that surrounded the pitch.

Tapping his bat against his boot in an inaudible clap Sebastian looked smugly up towards the Gryffindor stands as they jeered at Imelda who seemed as unbothered by them as a speck of soot on her cauldron.

“Eyes on the game, hound!” Imelda barked as she streaked past. Sebastian rolled his eyes at the nickname his captain had bestowed upon him which to his dismay had caught on with the rest of their team.

As he began to turn his attention from the crowd a flash of black stood out against one of the scarlet banners. Obsidian and vibrating with its internal rage Sebastian caught sight of the bludger rocketing through the fog towards their Seekers. All other thoughts evaporated, and he pulled up the handle of his broom jolting up into its path.

He searched wildly through the dark skies for anything to redirect the screeching little devil away from her. His eyes landed on a scarlet figure with a bat in hand - Sebastian found his target. With all the strength his frozen joints would allow, Sebastian raised his arm and smacked the bludger with a resounding crack from his bat, sending it hurtling towards Isaac Cooper.

He’d apologise to his friend later if he put her boyfriend in the hospital wing.

A lopsided smile tugged at his lips. Sebastian leaned back slightly on his broom. Feeling rather pleased with himself he turned to grin at her hoping his quick reactions would break her concentration momentarily and earn him a flash of a smile no matter how fleeting; it was one of his few moments of pleasure in this infernal game – but she was gone.

“The Seekers have spotted the snitch!” Lucan shouted, “It’s Slytherin in the lead – come on Ogspire, knock her off her broom if you have to!”

“Lucan!”

“Sorry, Professor.”

Sure, enough like an arrow released from its quiver she was streaking towards the ground. Cutting through the rain, neck and neck with the bludger hand outstretched as she hurtled towards a flash of gold behind Cooper's left ear.

Nelly, the Gryffindor seeker had also spotted it from below. If she didn’t have such a sizable lead, Sebastian was sure there would be a head-on collision, a mess of broken bones and blood splattered across emerald and scarlet.

Sebastian’s head whipped around to the only other person not intently watching the seekers – Cooper. He’d seen or heard the bludger Sebastian had sent his way a split second before it was too late…for him.

Sebastian felt like he was watching in slow motion. Raindrops hovered in midair like glittering jewels, her emerald robes flapping in the wind like wings, bludger far too close to her head and Cooper poised to strike. A hunter with his gun ready to shoot her from the sky.

Cooper swivelled quickly on his Nimbus, strong arm reaching up above his head as he swung. Wood connected with iron as he followed through redirecting the angry bludger hurtling towards her.

Sebastian screamed her name.

So loud it clawed at his throat. A desperate plea for her to get out of the way, forget the bloody game - but his voice was silenced, stolen by the storm.

If it wasn’t for the clap of thunder and the hammering of rain, Sebastian knew he would have heard the sickening crunch as the bludger connected with bone.

Even if her hands had been tightly clutching her broom, she wouldn’t have been able to grip it after her head was bludgeoned to the side. Every muscle and tendon which had been coiled tight as she surged for victory slackened.

She wobbled and slid silently sideways off her broom.

***

Somewhere overhead even over the deep rumble of thunder, Sebastian could hear Imelda screeching out commands to their team, signalling desperately to Kogawa on the ground below. But Sebastian could barely register the words over the blood roaring in his ears.

Pressing hard on the handle of his broom Sebastian tore towards the ground, rain buffeting his face a harsh sting on freckled cheeks. His vision had tunnelled as he narrowed in on the spot she was falling. He could catch her. Stop her from hitting the ground, if only he could push himself faster. Harder.

She was falling like a star crashing to earth that never should have been stolen from the sky.

Bile was in Sebastian’s throat, harsh and sour. Twenty feet from the sodden earth. Faster. His stomach lurched. Ten feet. Just a little further. A futile hand outstretched.

Just as he was certain she was going to hit the ground limp limbs sprawled and broken in the grass like a rag doll she was suddenly buoyant – airborne once more.

Professor Ronan had his wand outstretched from the stands slowing her descent to Professor Weasley who had already been waiting on the ground. Her mouth pinched in a thin line as she surveyed the sickly parlour of the witch's face and the blood now matting her hair.

Sebastian was the first player to touchdown. Throwing his broom away, abandoning it like he would anything else as long as he could get to her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear the other players circling down to earth but he was consumed. Soley with thoughts of her.

Professor Weasley flicked her wand, muttering a barrier charm shielding her from the unforgiving elements. Sebastian was hot on her heels to follow when Kagawa stepped in front of him putting a firm hand on his shoulder in warning to not interfere.

“She will be fine, Sallow!” said Kagawa sternly.

“You must be joking. She’s clearly not fine! I can help. Just let me go with her and-”

“Professor Weasley and I will accompany her to the hospital wing immediately. You will only get in the way. You can see her for yourself. Later. Be sure to relay that to the rest of the team,” she said with conviction but it did not ease the twisting in Sebastian’s stomach. Kagawa nodded tersely and strode briskly towards the castle.

Sebastian balled up his fists, jutting out his jaw as he took in a heavy breath through his nose.

He wasn’t cold any longer. Sebastian was burning. Burning from the inside out; with a white-hot rage…and fear. Letting it scorch at the shame he felt that he had let this happen, it had been his fault, he had not been enough to take care of her as he’d promised himself.

Mud splattered as he turned on his heels stomping towards Cooper. Channelling the last of his fraying self-control into not reaching for his wand and hexing him on the spot into his feet. Cooper’s face was pale, eyebrow knitted and mouth curling down with worry but it did little to quell Sebastian’s fury.

What right did Cooper have to be worried?

Cooper’s eyes found Sebastian, his grimace contorted into a glare. Narrowing his eyes, a sneer wrinkling his nose and the twitch in his jaw that seemed to be reserved especially for Sebastian. A face so unpleasant, that he had never been able to put his finger on why everyone in this school regarded him as so handsome. Being half-decent on a broom was hardly a reason to fawn after anyone.

Why someone as brilliant as her, with everything she had achieved, would fawn after him too had remained a mystery.

Sebastian never really knew what she saw in him, but he never questioned it - Cooper made his friend happy. Thought he’d made her happy. So the two young men largely ignored each other despite their significance to her unless an interaction was absolutely necessary.

But this betrayal was not something Sebastian could ignore.

“You could have killed her,” Sebastian shouted with such venom that not even a howl of wind could soften his tone. Sebastian shoved an accusatory finger into the other man's chest. Which was promptly smacked away in disgust.

“You heard Kogawa. She’ll be fine!”

Cooper pushed back his ash blonde hair sodden and hanging over his eyes. Averting his gaze to the direction Professor Weasley had whisked her out of the stands and towards the hospital wing. Sebastian clenched his teeth, his jaw twitching at his blatant disregard.

“What the hell were you playing at? Was killing your girlfriend really less important than losing a bloody game or has too many bludgers to the head rendered you a feckless moron?”

“Don’t think I didn’t see you hit a bludger at me. It’s part of the game, Sallow. She knew what she signed up for.”

“That’s bollocks and you know it.”

“Bludgers are an occupational hazard.”

“Couldn’t stand the fact she’s a better player than you - Is that it? Gryffindor chivalry my arse!”

“Unlike you, I'm not that insecure," Cooper blustered "I would have done the same to anyone else.”

“But she’s not just anyone else,” Sebastian shouted incredulously. Anger was pooling in his gut, ripping through him at the thought of Cooper or anyone daring to think so little of her. “She’s your girlfriend!”

Cooper scoffed and his eyes raked down Sebastian. Sizing him up for all he was worth. The two men stepped towards each other.

Never one to back down, Sebastian squared his shoulders to the challenge. Cooper wasn’t much taller than Sebastian and certainly not as broad but he used every last inch to stare down his nose at him with a mocking sneer.

“Exactly. She’s my girlfriend. Not yours.”

“I know that-”

“Do you?” he chortled. “Some of us were starting to think you were as thick as you are pathetic.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sebastian spoke through gritted teeth, acutely aware of the heat rising in his face staining his ears pink.

“It’s fucking embarrassing,” Cooper continued. “The way you carry on after her. Dragging her to the library every night, sending her owls - You don’t even like Quidditch! But you’re at her beck and call like a love-sick cruppy-”

“I’m her friend.”

“Her friend,” Cooper scoffed. “Give it a rest, Sallow. You think you have some sort of claim over her just because you’ve been following her around since fifth-year but never had the nerve to do anything about it.”

“I don’t have a claim on her-” he spluttered. His cheeks redden further and not just from the biting chill.

“No you don’t, because she’s mine-”

Crack.

Sebastian’s fist connected with Cooper’s jaw before he’d even realised he’d swung for the arsehole. Perhaps not as hard as a bludger but the cut it wrought would sting with far more malice than enchanted iron. Taken off guard expecting a wand drawn between his eyes long before a brawl, Cooper was sprawled out at Sebastian’s feet in the steeped grass.

Cooper stared up at him dumbfounded from the floor clutching his cheek. Sebastian’s breath came out angry and ragged, fogging the air in uneven pants. Cooper did not move to get up or reach for his wand. Despite his love for books and clever spell work, Sebastian in that moment was glad of the years of working the fields outside of Feldcroft that made him more physically intimidating than someone so scholarly rarely was. Because if Cooper had moved one inch, he wouldn’t have hesitated to hit him again. He wanted to hit him again. Partially for her, but mostly for himself because Cooper had made him feel small. Powerless. And he’d sworn to himself years ago that he'd never be powerless again.

Powerless as Cooper clearly felt. Crimson cheeked glaring up at him like the intensity of his gaze could set Sebastian on ablaze even in the torrential gail. The prickle of eyes gawping at them, making the heat rise in their cheeks and the hairs on the back of their necks stand to attention.

“Stay away from her. She’s not yours anymore. Not anyone’s. And if I catch you in a broomstick’s length of her again after what you did today - I swear on Salazar’s grave, you will be the one sleeping in the hospital wing next time.”

Cooper’s only acknowledgement of his threat was a glob of scarlet blood spat onto the grass. But he didn’t try to rise to his feet and continued to glare at Sebastian. The tips of his ears were as scarlet as his cloak in rage or embarrassment to be laid out in front of Merlin knows how many students that were still packed into the stands. Circling vultures who would undoubtedly, pick apart his humiliation and spread it through the castle letting it grow more outlandish with each retelling.

Let them say what they want, about Cooper or himself, let them pick them apart - they could make themselves sick on it for all he cared. He only cared about one thing at that moment.

He turned to head for the castle, ignoring the route for the changing rooms where his dry robes waited intent on striding straight for the hospital wing.

“Sallow! What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Imelda shouted barging past the group of quidditch players standing well back from the scuffle. Her black hair was sodden and her ponytail limp, her signature scowl she wore when addressing just about anyone looked forced with the corners of her eyes creased with concern.

“Finish the match without me Imelda-” he grumbled. She stepped into his path blocking him as he attempted to push past her.

“It’s already over. Ogspire caught the snitch and had the good sense to look sheepish about it when she realised what happened. Or the crowd would have seen two seekers knocked off their broom when I was through with her – but that doesn’t matter.”

“No, it doesn’t matter! Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to see to the only thing that does.”

Reyes placed her hands on her hips and looked him up and down, assessing him with an amused quirk on her brow - Sebastian wondered how such a tiny thing as Reyes could be as terrifying as a Hungarian Horntail like she could strip the flesh of your bones with a look.

"Do you know why the rest of the team calls you ‘the hound’?"

"I assume it's because you told them to treat me like some sort of dog. Now if you’ll excuse-"

"You're not a good quidditch player, Seb."

"Cheers Reyes."

"Luckily Carrow is a decent enough beater to look after the rest of the team. But we keep you for one thing. You're the hound. Her guard dog. On and off the pitch. That's why she went down like a sack of shit,” she grimaced. Reyes despite her callousness, Sebastian could see how her shoulder stiffened with suppressed anxiety for one of her few close friends and it settled the anger that was still threatening to spill over. “She's potentially the only seeker in history to never be hit by a bludger. She doesn't even look for them anymore. As I said - you’re not a good quidditch player, Sebastian. But while she’s my Seeker and Carrow doing the heavy lifting…I’ll happily take a bloody guard dog over a half-decent beater. Just don't beat yourself or Cooper up about it."

“No promises about the last bit,” he griped. Averting his eyes, hoping Imelda thought the flush creeping over his cheeks was from the chill and not from the knowledge that even his own teammates shared the opinions of Cooper and his friends when it came to Sebastian’s feelings for her - which felt jumbled with both worry and speculation.

“Go check on her. Blainey will have a fit if the whole team shows up,” Imelda said softly. She negated her uncharacteristic kindness with a firm punch to Sebastian’s arm. Her eyes glinted viciously as she looked past him to Cooper who had pushed himself off the ground dusting off his robes. “Besides…I want to have a little word with Cooper myself.”

***

A puddle had formed under Sebastian’s chair as it had dripped from his sodden robes until Madam Blainey had ushered him into the lavatory. Sebastian hurriedly stripped, cast a drying charm on his clothes and pulled them back on. Forgoing his shoes as he hopped lopsidedly out the door. Hastily pulling up the breeches which stuck against the wet hairs on his legs. Blainey wrinkled her nose at his display but left him to his vigil, being far too familiar with the pair and how persistent they could be when it came to remaining by the other's hospital bed.

On more than one occasion she’d sent the other packing only to be greeted cheerily the next morning by a smug-faced teenager who’d tampered with her locks and wards to sneak back inside to keep the other company. After almost three years of this, she left them, albeit reluctantly, to it.

She was curled up under white starchy sheets; a draped knit blanket barely covering her knees was sliding to the floor where she’d squirmed. No longer chilled to her bones, the colour had returned to her cheeks. Sebastian rested his head on his palm, elbow braced against his knee. He’d been in this position far too many times than was preferable but it had become familiar to him; the twinge in his neck, the ache in his arms as the hours of the vigil dragged on. Not that he minded, being beside each other was second nature.

She shifted; eyes blinking sleepily back into focus as she rolled onto her side. Sebastian stretched rubbing the back of his neck smiling at the softness of her sleepy gaze.

“Seb?” she sighed dreamily, her voice thick and curdled with potions Blainey had more than likely forced down her neck.

“Who else,” he grinned. Blainey had long since satisfied her need to poke and prod at her ward and headed up to bed. And he doubted anyone had the bollocks to go against Imelda if they’d forbidden them from seeing her tonight. “You gave me a bit of a fright there, pet.”

“It’ll take more than that for you to get rid of me…” she said sitting up more jovial than he expected. “But…whoever came up with the idea of bludgers is a sadist.”

“Or a masochist. Some of us are gluttons for punishment,” Sebastian argued, pulling at the collar of his Quidditch jersey exposing the jagged scar on his shoulder.

Faded white, the remnants of one of their summer duels. With no Blainey to patch him up in seconds, the skin had puckered and scared but he was rather fond of how it cut through the freckles.

“If you recall, you were the one who insisted we practice severing charms after five pints in the Broomsticks.”

“In my defence, with the amount of practice you get, I thought you had better aim when you were drunk,” he chuckled. “How are you feeling? You seem to be fairing better than I was that morning.”

“I’m made of sterner stuff. No hungover wailing over a little scratch for me,” she jabbed before grimacing rubbing the side of her head where it had struck. “Not going to say it was pleasant - nasty little buggers aren’t they. But Blainey patched me up. Made me drink that foul grey sludge for the concussion but a couple of spells for the wound and I was good as new. Honestly, the sleeping draught seemed like overkill but I think she’s just sick of catching me roaming the halls at night.”

“If she thinks that’d stop you! Don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit still for this long, you menace.”

“Or you for that matter,” she grinned, patting his hand affectionately. Moonlight spilled in from the ornate windows over the vacant hospital wing, she peered past him down the rows of empty beds. “Where’s Isaac? I thought he’d want to see me-”

Sebastian bristled, her disappointed frown souring his cheerful mood. He brushed the bruised swelling on his knuckles from where they’d connected with Cooper’s jaw.

“What you’d rather see your ‘brave’ Gryffindor boyfriend - than me? Who’s been here.”

Who’s always been here.

Maybe Cooper was right. Perhaps they all were and Sebastian really was pathetic. Pathetic for assuming she’d still want to wake to Sebastian at her bedside now that she had Cooper in her life. That their friendship could compare to what he could offer her.

“No, I’m glad you’re here,” she said crossly. “But…I thought he’d want to at least check I was alright.”

“You shouldn’t want to see him after the stunt he pulled today! He’s the reason you’re in the hospital at all, might I add. Decided you were less important than a stupid game. I told him to stay the hell away from you for good.”

She blinked at him incredulously for a moment before the heat began to rise in her cheeks and she clenched her jaw.

“How dare you! Who do you think you are deciding what I do? You have a lot of nerve, Sebastian.”

“I thought I was saving you the trouble but if you want to scurry back to him, be my guest!” Standing so abruptly his chair screeched across the floor. “Keep doing everything for everyone else when they wouldn’t give a fraction back. No matter the cost to yourself, like you always do. You can be so bloody naive!”

“I know you don’t like Isaac - you don’t even try to hide it. But you can’t dictate who I see. And I hoped you thought more highly of me to think I’d stay with him after the shit he pulled today. But, if that’s what you really think of me, you can bloody join him” she snarled.“I tell everyone they don’t know you like I do, but maybe I am naive. Seems I’m surrounded by tossers trying to knock me down. Why do you even care, as clearly you think so little of me?”

“Of course, I care! Even though you’re seemingly incapable of caring about yourself. You barely even let me. You’re infuriating! What’s more ridiculous is what someone like you would see in him. He’s not good enough for you, he never has been! You give yourself over to people who couldn’t give too shits about you and now look at you-”

“Oh, so what? My boyfriend turning out to be a complete and utter prat is somehow my fault?”

“No! Of course not,” he flustered, carding his fingers through his hair. All the words in his head felt jumbled and he could tell by the dangerous look in her eyes he’d let his temper dig himself into a hole once again.

“Don’t hold back, Sebastian,” she spat through gritted teeth. “Did you just come here to insult me or is there something you’re trying to say?”

“What I’m trying to say is you should you should be with someone who fucking cares. If it was me, I wouldn’t be risking your safety to win a stupid game! Merlin, if I was your boyfriend I wouldn’t risk you for anything. I thought I lost you once and it was one of the worst days of my life. If someone had tried to take you away from me I would have fought back. Fought for you. If we were together-”

His voice died abruptly in his throat when she was no longer fixing him with a deadly eye but staring at him. Wide-eyed her mouth hung slightly a jar. He'd built up a barrier around himself and as close as he was to her, probably closer than anyone he’d still kept her at arm's length. Once again he let his temper get the better of him but instead of solidifying those walls, he’d exposed a little too much. Exposed something he’d vehemently denied to even himself.

Shone a light on a corridor in the labyrinth of their friendship and feelings he had for her he’d never explored. One he perhaps always knew was there but until now had dutifully tried to ignore lest he lose his way and not be able to make it back to the well-travelled paths of simple friendship.

“But we’re not together…” she said cautiously. As if she could tell Sebastian was a startled animal, and once the shock of his confession wore off he’d bolt. Which quite frankly he was considering.

“No. We’re not," he responded voice clipped. Sebastian was more surprised it even worked at all with how tight his chest felt.

“But if we were…” she said it like she was stepping out onto thin ice wondering if it would hold or she’d plunge into the unforgiving water below. “What would you do for me?”

There was no use hiding it any longer. He sighed, looking into her eyes resigning himself to that first step into the unknown.

“Anything.”

Her breath caught and Sebastian knew she could see the truth they’d danced around painted across his face and laid bare between them. Feel the finality of his words like Pandora opening the box and swarming the carefully curated distance between them with truth never to be recaptured.

Sebastian reached for her, fingers entwining in her hair tilting her chin up so she could see him. Perhaps truly for the first time, exposed and raw. Her soft lips parted as if to protest his confession but as she searched his face for the lie she found none. Sebastian was done with hiding, with pretending. The realisation that his feelings went beyond that of a companion and he didn’t care if anyone thought it pathetic. In truth, it was liberating to drop the charade he played with his own heart.

He kissed her.

Claiming her lips firm, not holding back the wave of desire that ignited any semblance of decorum and dignity he had left. Any whisper of a reason he’d concocted in his mind for why they couldn’t - shouldn’t be together going up in smoke. Pulling her towards by the nape of her neck, like he hadn’t realised he’d been starving until he tasted her.

There was a desperation in the way he cupped her chin, tangled in her hair longing for acceptance. He brushed his tongue lightly against her bottom lip.

Just like that barrier between them crumbled for her too and she was kissing him back. Mouth moving against his with such a fiery intensity he thought he might catch alight. Like she too had stifled any spark she’d felt between them; kept it bottled away for so long with no chance to grow that now it was fed it devoured her.

It was not soft, nor tender – perhaps it was because neither were they.

His tongue delved into her mouth hungrily, exploring brushing against hers. He stifled a wanton moan into her mouth.

“I think I need to break up with my boyfriend,” she said breathlessly between kisses.

“I already took care of that for you.”

For a moment, Sebastian thought she might break off their kiss and start shouting again. But she nipped at his lip satisfied with his answer. Her hand was in his hair, wrapping around his neck. Pushing up on her knees to press her chest against his. Muffled moans slipped from her lips which made Sebastian’s head spin dizzy with desire. His own strangled, desperate groan when she slid her tongue past his lips to brush tentatively against his own. Every flick of her tongue drove him further into the heady fog of desire.

The overwhelming need to be closer. To drown in her embrace. Sebastian's knee found purchase on the bed between her parted legs. His hand ghosted down her back settling on the small of her back. She groaned as her spine curved towards him as he impressed down upon her. Still clinging to him as she fell backwards. Sebastian tumbled after her. Not caring about how his weight rested heavily upon her. She seemed to revel in the closeness, in the way Sebastian bore down on her. Desperate to be closer to her. Cocoon himself around her. Be the barrier to shield her from harm.

But she wanted no barriers. At least not between her and the sanctuary that was Sebastian. She tugged up the hem of his jersey, eager fingers stumbling. He let his lips briefly leave hers, sitting back to pull it roughly over his head discarding it carelessly to the side.

It wasn't as if she hadn't seen him shirtless before when they'd spent sun-drenched summer afternoons swimming in the river by Feldcroft or when errant spells had ripped or burnt the clothes from his back. But never had she looked at him like she was now - or if she had he hadn't noticed. Eyes darkened with desire raked over him hungrily as if she wanted to tear into his flesh.

She explored the breadth of him that was now exposed to her. The sparse hair on his chest, the marred skin on his shoulder the scar she’d left; a claim she’d staked on his skin long before he knew every inch of it was hers.

His hands explored her in turn. Running along her ribs, the curve of her hips, and the dip of her waist. Committing this side of her to memory. Unbound, lustful. Still every bit the wild thing he knew her to be but with an endearing nervousness to her inquisitive touch.

A side of her that until now had remained a mystery to him. A restricted section of a library he’d been too afraid to read from lest he be thrown from its doors entirely; on he intended to consume entirely.

“I didn't know you wanted this - Merlin, I didn't know I wanted this," he murmured between kisses.

"A life-threatening blow to the head can really knock things into perspective."

He tilted her chin to access her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin below her jaw. She let out a startled little yelp as her body jolted in surprise. Sebastian chuckled and pressed his lips more softly against her quivering pulse, letting the tension ebb from her tightly coiled muscles before sucking a brand into the delicate skin. She groaned as her back arched towards him, breast brushing against his chest through her thin nightdress. The sweet trembling whimpers as he soothed the ache so intoxicating he felt drunk on her cries. Kneading the flesh of her breast in his palm, coaxing more delightful sounds from her lips as he tweaked the bud between his fingers.

"I'll have to thank Isaac for-"

"Don't say his name-" Sebastian pleaded. Disliking the way any name sounded in the breathless quiver of her voice besides his own. "From now on - No one else's. Only-"

She cut him off cupping his face, prying him away from his ministrations on her jaw. She touched her lips to his gentler than the last had been, understanding the desire in his incoherent rambling.

"Sebastian."

And she said it was the only name that mattered. He groaned deeply, burying his face in her hair. Breathing in the faint lingering scent of mallowsweet not even the storm could wash away entirely. Sebastian grasped her hip through her thin nightdress dress so he could roll his own against her core. He knew she would feel the growing need hardening in his between his legs.

Slipping under her skirt he slid a hand purposefully up the inside of her thigh. Her fists balled in the sheets as he brushed against the soaked fabric of her knickers. She shivered and certainly not from the cold, as he tentatively traced her folds.

“Say my name again.”

She complied and he pressed his thumb against the bundle of nerves. She whined at the contact and it called to something primal within him. That doggedness, that impulsivity a part of him he tried to damper, and contain lest it consume him completely as it had done in the past - perhaps this was why he'd built a wall between her and his heart. Because once he surrendered this part of himself to her, anything he had done in the past would pale in comparison to the everything he would do for her.

Shifting the fabric to the side and dragging a finger through the slick coating her folds to press against her clit. Coaxing out mewls of pleasure with every tantalising circle of the nub. Her breath was hot against his neck and a flush had spread from her cheeks down her chest. She writhed in search of more friction as he teased her open with his fingers. Sebastian emitted a low throaty groan when he felt how silky and keen she was for him. Her breath caught in her throat and his own became more ragged as he pumped and curled his fingers inside of her. Working her open, pliant to his touch.

His cock was strained against his Quidditch breeches twitching eagerly against her stomach with every muttered curse and keening mewl she released. Her whine into his mouth, a plea for Sebastian to give her more than just a tentative caress. Her hands which until now had been stroking along his spine and tangling in chestnut curls ran along the curve of his ribs and down his stomach. She palmed his hard length and began pulling the laces to free him from his trousers.

Rumoured dalliances were one thing and those were bountiful. Gossip spread like wildfire whether there was truth to it or not. But if it were to be discovered Sebastian had had her completely - it could damn her. There would be no going back, no changing her mind about their feelings for each other. Not that there would be any going back for him. Not now the floodgates had opened try as he might he would not be able to close them.

He’d submitted to it. To be hers. And he knew his stubborn heart could not be turned.

A crease formed between his eyebrows and he pulled back from their kiss. Sebastian had burned for her for longer than he knew and now his heart had begun to splutter with nerves. She smoothed the lines etched on his brow, tilting her chin up to kiss him with a soft longing. A silent affirmation that this was not a moment of madness or revenge.

“This really isn't the place, pet," he tried to reason but he made no motion to move away from her embrace. Instead, he peeled the silken nightgown over her head which she wriggled out of gratefully. Bare and laidf out below him his mouth felt dry, as she looked at him through her lashes. Chest heaving, his friend transformed into a goddess under the soft lamp light.

"You don't think the hospital wing is romantic?"

"We could get caught?"

"We're both rather adept at getting out of trouble."

"You're sure?"

“About you?” He nodded nervously. Her eyes softened and the words came to her easily as if somehow she'd always known it would be him. "Since the day I met you.”

Sebastian heart rattled as she undid the laces, and helped her shuck the material down his hips. He kissed her and he wondered why he tried to evade the inevitability that was her. She wrapped a hand around his cock and he bucked almost embarassingly into her grip.

He helped her guided his cock towards her entrance, shivering as he dragged the head against her slick folds. He kissed her deeply. Passionately. In reverence to her and all she meant to him; even when he'd been too blind to see it.

He sank into her tight heat. The noise rumbling from deep in his chest was more akin to a growl than anything human as his girth stretched her inch by inch.

Muscles tightly coiled with nerves but a tremor of pleasure electrified her as Sebastian pressed his thumb gently to her clit soothing her delicate whimpering. Fingernails etching grooves into his shoulders he knew should sting but gods - his mind had been completely overcome in the bliss of her warmth.

"Ah- Fuck."

Sebastian wasn't sure which one of them had uttered it the moment he bottomed out inside her. Dropping to press his forehead against hers. Hot breath disturbed her unruly hair which he had tangled, a blush staining her cheeks and lips swollen, Sebastian didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone more beautiful.

The last thread of his control was dwindling with how tight her walls fluttered around his cock, how perfectly he fit inside her; like he belonged buried in her. But he stilled himself. Letting her adjust despite how desperately he craved the claim her to make her scream his name until she could speak no other.

Sebastian wasn't known for his exercises in control, but he tried. For her.

Moving his hips working himself into her with tentative shallow thrusts. Her appreciating shallow panting like blissful music. He stole a look down to where their bodies were connected. Almost coming undone completely at the sight.

"It's like you were fucking made for me," he rasped. Still circling her swollen nub admiring how each stroke strained her breathing into short needy pants. Coaxing more of her slick to coat his shaft.

"Funny," she choked a devilish smile spreading over her face. Her eyes flicked up to his from they too had been trained on their union. "I was going to say the same thing about you."

He dared a deeper thrust. Pulling back before pushing back in with a languid roll of his hips that made her groan, wanton and needy. Her back arching skyward he slid his free arm under the space she left. Wrapping around her waist to embrace her tighter.

Her hips bucked towards him, with every deep steady thrust. Cursing a string of profanities and praise the new angle allowed the head of his cock to stroke along her sweet spot. Filthy things that would have made even him blush but if it was possible they only made him rut into her more possessively. Mouthing brainless at the curve of her jaw, as she accepted him deeper.

There was a familiarity in the unfamiliar. The way the scent of mallowsweet wrapped around him had never smelt so intoxicating. The lilt to her voice when she said his name never sounded so reedy and desperate.

He'd been trapped outside the gates of Elysium and now indulged fully in its pleasures. Sebastian groaned, peppering kissed into the crook of her neck, spreading her knees open to take him deeper. His thumb still teased her clit with every thrust making her legs tremble. The hair on his chest and freckles across his skin did little to hide the flush of colour on his skin. Sebastian clung to her desperately, her skin soft and plush in ways he’d never let himself imagine.

He felt her climax building around his cock. Clawing at his back as she whined, teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Desperately clinging to him, to prolong the moment neither of them wanted to end. But his own release was impressing on him fast. Coiling tightly in his gut as he began to pound into her harder his pace becoming erratic with every deliberate thrust into her tight heat.

“Fuck. Fuck- Please, darling. Come for me,” he pleaded. Barely recognising the desperate gravelly rumble of his voice.

“Seb- Sebastian, I’m so close!”

“I can feel you. Fucking incredible. You’re incredible, taking me so well. I can’t- I can’t hold back anymore.”

Her climax broke, with a shuddering cry of his name. Spasming and contracting as she sucked him in impossibly deeper into her cunt. Sebastian doubted there was any greater pleasure in this world than the feeling of her completely unravelling, pulsing around him.

She was calling out to him breathless, like his name was the answer to a question her soul had been asking and he was filling in the gaps of what she never knew was missing.

His vision narrowed, until she was all there was. Blushing, dishevelled a fucking exquisite mess writhing against him - because of him. With a final uneven snap of his hips, he buried himself inside of her to the hilt. Groaning her name over and over like a mantra as he came, hard. Harder than he ever had. Hips spluttering as he spilt inside of her grinding out his release deep in her channel.

He loosened the arm coiled around her waist allowing her to slump boneless onto the mattress. He kissed her, capturing her sweet dulcet whimpers as he coaxed her slowly down from her bliss. Letting her ride out the last of her shaking climax with gentle circles on her clit, still buried inside of her.

They stayed like that for a while, his head pressed into the crook of her neck, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Humming contentedly as rocked into her. A little gasped when he at last pulled his softening cock from inside of her. Mourning the loss of being intertwined with him completely.

Hardly big enough for two, he pulled her half draping her soft body over him so they both fit. Head resting on his chest she hummed contentedly as he pressed his lips to the crown of her head. They were silent, the only sounds were their laboured breathing and the occasional satiated sigh.

"I love you," Sebastian’s voice broke the silence.

And it felt too big and too small all at once; like it didn't capture the enormity of what he was feeling but now that he did he could never love anyone else. Never feel the warmth of another and for it to feel like home. “I just- I want you to know in case it wasn’t obvious. You don’t have to say it back-”

“I love you too. In fact, I think I’ve loved you for a long time.”

She tilted her chin up to kiss him and the world seemed to tip on its axis. Sebastian resigned to the knowledge he would fly through a thousand more storms just so he could bask in her warmth.

***

Luxuriating in the afterglow of a perfect evening rarely lasted forever. However, Sebastian didn't anticipate his to end quite so abruptly or by being shoved out of bed by the witch he loved. Landing clumsily on the tiled floor he glared up at her disorientated. If she wasn't roughly pulling her nightdress over her head to cover her bare breasts he may have thought last night was a rather vivid wet dream.

"Blainey's coming. You need to hide," she hissed. “Quickly. Under the bed.”

"So? She's used to it. We always stay here together-" Sebastian yawned in protest. Reaching up to fix her dishevelled hair brushing his thumb against her cheek. If possible, she blushed even more wildly than she did last night when he’d been buried between her legs. As if the affectionate hand from the man who loved her was somehow more intimate.

"Yes- but usually fully clothed! Oh for Merlin's sake-"

She snatched her wand up off the table, pointing it dead between Sebastian's eyes she muttered a disillusionment charm. Sebastian felt it trickle over him and just as his hands disappeared from view the door to Blainey’s chambers swung open. The matron shuffled into the hospital wing bee-lining for her solitary ward’s bed who was quickly stashing her wand under her pillow. Sebastian despite being little more than a trick of the light, scooted further under her cot to avoid discovery.

"Good morning, dear! How are you feeling?” she greeted her cheerily. Stopping at the foot of her bed her sensible shoes the only thing visible to Sebastian. “...You look a little flushed."

"Much better, Miss. Truly-”

"Look at the state of your sheets. Tossing and turning all night, I’ll bet," Blainey tutted. Sebastian clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle a snort of laughter. "Glad I kept you in. I knew you needed a good night's rest."

“Ah. yes- slept better than I have in years,” her voice wavered unconvincingly. Terrible liar. The bed springs straining as she squirmed uncomfortably.

"You have a visitor,” Blainey said, fussing with her pillow. Sebastian tucked his feet in tighter into the cramped space. “Your boyfriend, Mr Cooper."

Sebastian stilled, his jaw tensing as he resisted the urge to charge out of the hospital wing in all his naked glory and tell the Gryffindor to piss off.

"I think Isaac is mistaken, Miss. He is certainly not my boyfriend any longer.”

Sebastian may be naked, tailbone throbbing and hunched under a hospital bed in the most undignified position anyone could possibly be discovered in - but Sebastian felt far from pathetic. Smug was probably a better word with the grin that had stretched over his face.

The blow to the face may have hurt Cooper’s pride but it would be nothing compared to the gut punch awaiting him when he discovered how their roles had reversed. When he saw what he squandered had been entirely to Sebastian's gain.

"Or perhaps he has taken too many bludgers to the head or he would have gleaned from his conversation with Sebastian that I don't have a boyfriend,” she said loudly enough for Cooper's prying ears likely eavesdropping on the other side of the door.

Sebastian frowned. Snaking his hand up quickly to deliver a hard pinch to the soft flesh of her arse. She squeaked in surprise, swatting into thin air as she searched blindly for his invisible hand. He knew she’d be blushing madly and he’d probably get an earful about that later. Although he now had a lot more creative fantasies about making it up to her.

"Something wrong, dear?" Blainey turned to her concerned.

"Nothing!"

But, something was much indeed wrong.

'I don't have a boyfriend' he almost gave himself away with an audible scoff.

Sebastian would have to do something about that immediately.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #Sebastian sallow x female reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #Sebastian Sallow x Slytherin reader #Beater Sebastian #Seeker MC

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ikkosu · 9 months ago

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hii!!! omg ahh i don’t do this often but … sending in an ask without anon heyyyy hegeheghe

SOOO hear me out on starscream with one of those jealousy prompts. literally ANY of them. oh y GOSH!!!!!!

hi Roddy!! 🫵😈yes yes I will cook for you. Keep you well fed.

—HOW utterly pathetic. He's currently locked away in your room, mass-displaced and stuffed in a closet of all places, while you're busy 'tending' the fleshies that you apparently call your family.

"Will you cut that foolish—"

Organics and their established hierarchies. Starscream rolled his eyes. Need they a purpose for those? He didn't fly all the way here just so you could stash him in this decrepit box and neglect him for the remaining hour.

In the middle of his musings, however, light blinds his optics and he hissed.

You pushed his cheek to the side, rummaging through the drawer roosted beside him. "Sorry, star. Can you move your wings? I gotta reach this—ah, right. Thanks."

You plucked out a small boxed, turning over the contents. " I've got my nephews downstairs, so they'll be hanging over for a bit."

Oh, how he would exterimate you if you were a lesser con.

He eyes you distastefully. "How much longer will I be held here? My wings are starting to cramp up."

"Ugh. Sparklings." He drawls and another biting insult lay fervent on his tongue. But he lets out a huff, instead. "Fine. Do whatever you like — but let's not forget you have a partner who needs all your attention before any of those fleshies do."

"I'll keep that in mind, commander." You leaned in and pecked the crook of his nose.

"Be quick about it." He growled. "I'll be waiting."

#ehehe so cute !!#i adore whiny seekers #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers idw #starscream x reader #starscream

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magicalbunbun · 9 months ago

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Hehe soundwave x y/n

#soundwave #tf soundwave #g1 soundwave #soundwave x reader #spy x seeker #transformers x reader #transformers

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theartofwoompwoomp · 1 day ago

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for some reason I think Thundercracker would decorate his humans cage/tank.

like if you where held in an empty energon cube, he’d definitely fill the space up with furniture, all types of clothing, and thanks to a YouTube video on caring for your reptiles he’d get you a heating lamp and everything.

He probably also isn’t the most experienced in how to setup everything. Thus leaving you lots of hiding spots.

Poor guy would get stressed constantly cause he can’t find you, and you’d be sleeping comfortably behind a plant under a bunch of blankets.

he’s thought of getting rid of everything after a few heart attacks, but every time he sees you enjoying yourself or mentioning how you appreciate it, the thought is scrapped from his servos instantly.

anyway, remember not to torture your bot too much, try to stay where he can see you. He can’t help being a worrywart when it comes to you.

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masterlist

#x reader #transformers x reader #transformers #maccadam #tf x reader #thundercracker transformers #thundercracker #thundercracker x reader #seekers #elite trine #transformer x human #transformers x humans #transformers x human #tf headcanons #tf thundercracker

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revelboo · 2 months ago

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I NEED MORE OF THE SEEKERS TRINE PLEASE AAAAAAAAAAA IT'S SO GOOD GOSH I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AAAAAAAAAAAAAA 🛐💞💞💞

Thanks! How about Seekers x Reader full alternate take?

True Romance

Trine x Reader

• Wings shearing through branches as he drops dangerously low, he can feel his damaged wing screaming at him. He’s losing altitude, paralleling the roads, turbines screaming as he hears those two Autobots dogging him. Knows Thundercracker and Skywarp are headed his way, but not knowing how far out they still are. There’s a car up ahead and he passes by so low his belly scrapes and that’s it. That little wobble and he’s transforming, knees gouging up asphalt as he claws at the ground to stop his slide and he’s barely aware of the car running off the road into the tree line, because there’s the Autobots, weapons drawn on him.

• Groaning, you struggle with the seatbelt, and almost fall out of the car when you get the door open. Your head is pounding, a confused terror spinning you tight, because a jet had almost landed on your car. Shaking fingers reaching up to touch your head where it smacked against the steering wheel and come away wet as you manage to stagger up onto the road and just freeze. Brain refusing to deal with what you’re seeing, because you definitely have a concussion. There’s not three giant, robot monsters in a stand off. Staggering when you try to crane your neck you almost fall in front of the biggest one. The one with jet wings.

• Reacting, he snags the little human as it falls and holds it between him and the Autobots, shielding his spark with it. He can feel its little hands scrabbling at his servos, a pained noise escaping it as it struggles against his grip. But his little impromptu shield works. The Autobots freeze, unwilling to risk a human life, just like he’d hoped. And there, the familiar sound of turbines. Now it’s the Autobots transforming and fleeing as Skywarp and Thundercracker land and attack and his tension drains away. Using a servo to tip the little human’s face toward him, he vents softly. You might just come in handy, a little pet shield. Even if you hadn’t meant to, you’d saved him. For that and that alone, you’ll live.

• “Is that a human?” Thundercracker asks, reaching out as Starscream huffs and hands it over. It’s so small and warm in his servos, trying to curl into a terrified ball as he traces the curve of its spine. Terrified eyes stare up at him, a wound on its head sluggishly bleeding. Hurt and needing him. “Can we keep it?”

• There’s three of them, all similar enough aside from coloration. The black and purple one leaning in to try and grab you from the blue one whose wings lift with a low rumbling sound like a growl that rattles through you. You’re having a hard time focusing on what they’re saying, your head pounding and you just want to sleep, because this will be over when you wake. It’s all just a nightmare. It has to be.

• “We’re keeping it?” Skywarp vents in annoyance when Thundercracker tries to keep the human from him. Like he thinks he’s going to break it just by looking. “Why?” It’s tiny, pathetic and soft. Weak.

• “Because it’s mine,” Starscream says in exasperation, lifting a shoulder experimentally and hissing as his damaged wing pulls. Then Skywarp is there, sliding his arm around him. While he can’t reliably warp to new places, he can unerringly warp home at least. And Starscream reaches for their other brother, gripping Thundercracker’s arm as they warp home with their new pet.

#transformers seekers #transformers x reader #starscream x reader #idw starscream #skywarp x reader #thundercracker x reader #idw thundercracker #idw skywarp

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tinydefector · 8 months ago

Text

SEEKER TRINE VENTS

The Seeker trine x human (separate)

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: swearing, injury

Skywarp masterlist

Starscream masterlist

Thundercracker masterlist

_____________

Based on this photo

Starscream

Small noises of displeasure fell from their lips as they scrub grime off of Starscream, the mech had been rather vocal about how much he hated earth and the muck that would get itself stuck in his vents, ledges and creases of his armour.

"How do you get so much stuff wedged in here?" They ask in annoyance. Starscream vented heavily as they scrubbed at his plating, not bothering to conceal his distaste for the task. As one such pesky piece of debris came loose, he huffed derisively.

"You organic creatures are so primitive, dragging all manner of filth into our ship. Your flimsy exteriors offer no protection from this planet's foul substances."

The human scowled up at him, unamused by his answer. He continued more dourly, "The intricate grooves and seams of Cybertronian plating are evidently well-suited for trapping debris, as I've discovered to my irritation. “Your "muck", as you call it, works its way deep within joints and transformation seams, which it then proves vexing to dislodge." His brow ridge drew down in a scowl.

He remained still while the human tended to him, but he dared not harm them and risk angering Megatron. For now, he bit back any further complaints.

"Oh yes, the primitive who somehow can keep themself cleaner than you. Stop being such a pissbaby " They shoot back as they scrub the soapy water across his wings.

"You'd think highly advanced Cybernetic aliens would have a way to deal with this" they tease. The soapy sponge scrubbing against the insignia.

Starscream scoffed haughtily at the human's insolence.

"And yet here you are, assigned the menial task of removing such filth from my plating." He vented in irritation as the sponge scrubbed over a particularly caked-on patch of grime, the insignia proudly displayed upon his wings now slowly becoming visible once more.

"Make no mistake, human, had I been leader of the Decepticons we would not be on this wretched planet to begin with." His plating gave an involuntary shiver as a transformation seam was ruthlessly scoured.

If Starscream had been bipedal at that moment he would be looking down at them with a fixed and pointed glare. "Now cease your prattling and get on with the task, unless you wish to spend the remainder of the day at it!" he Snarled, he felt humiliated having someone else clean him, but some of The areas he just couldn't reach himself.

"Mimimi" they make the whiny little nose at Starscream as they use his wing to drop down onto the floor as they begin checking the underside of his wing, scrubbing more groves. Starscream's wings twitched in irritation as the human scampered down to scrub at his undercarriage.

before they move towards the Jets vents. "Fucking hell you have that many leaves wedged in here!." They state. "Be careful! many of those plates are far more sensitive than exterior armour." He snarled sharply as they crawled up into the vent grabbing leaves and debris slowly dislodging them from hidden seams and vents.

"Seeker frames such as mine offer countless nooks and crannies for debris to work itself deep within." A particularly stubborn clump came free, causing his vents to shudder involuntarily. They roll their eyes at him. "You can just say thank you, no need to be a prick Stars" their voice somewhat echoes and reverberates off his plating as they grab even more handfuls of leaves, throwing them out while they begin scrubbing the more sensitive plating.

Starscream shutters as his voice hitched as the human's hands scraped roughly against his more delicate vent internals. "Mind your hands, I'm not your toy!" he snapped, wings twitching in irritation. "Do not manhandle so crudely.” He cries out before going quietly, he feels defiled.

Despite his complaints, he had to admit some relief as handfuls of debris were cleared away. "Can you not work quicker?" he groused. "Your primitive fingers pale in comparison to a proper Cybertronian sanitation cycle. And lingering here invites further filth and dirt with every moment." His plating flared, venting a burst of hot air to dislodge any remaining flecks. It puffs a collection of dust and dirt at the human who begins coughing and cursing him out. “ fuck you Starscream, trying to kill me!” After they finish having a choking fit they shoot him a glare.

"Oh I'm so sorry that you can't clean your own vents" they remark in a snarky tone the soapy water seeps in and begins dislodging the other dirt and grim. Their eyes linger realising that his vents were much more spacious than they had expected. They scoot further in. They run their hand across a large 'scar' that is on the inside of the vent, fingers ever soft again the large grove. "Who did this to you?" They ask softly, their anger from before fading almost non existent. Starscream vented sharply as their hand lingers over an old wound.

"A battlefield skirmish on Cybertron, an Autobot believed shoving a blade into my vent would end me " he replied tersely. "Such scars often remain, embedded in our armour's self-regenerating molecular structure. They serve as reminders of battles won and lost."

His voice hitched as delicate sensor nodes were brushed. "Remove your hands, you have completed your task," Starscream stated curtly. While thorough cleansing was necessary to dislodge filth, he had limits to how much manhandling by fleshy human digits he would tolerate.

His plating rippled in a not so subtle threat, but he never let anyone touch his scars. The sooner this indignity was over, the better. They let out a soft huff and slowly slide themselves back out of the vents, moving towards the other buckets of water. Grabbing it and throwing the icy cold water across the soapy areas.

Starscream gasped sharply as the human doused him with the frigid rinse water, his armour plating clamping down tightly in response to the uncomfortable temperature differential.

"Primus, have you no care for My paint?!" he snapped irritably. "That was Cold!” He cries out again. Nonetheless, it washed away the remaining suds caught in seams and joints. His plating gave a few experimental flutters to normalise to the temperature.

That let out a laugh as they fill the bucket from the water punnet and proceeding with the next wing. "It's not my fault the water is so cold, don't you like a little cold water?" They call out teasing him again as they rinse the soap and grime off of starscream, even flushing out his vents to make sure they were clean.

Starscream flinched as frigid rinse water splashed over his plating once more, droplets seeping into seams and joints. "Primus, have mercy. Must you freeze my circuits,?!" he Shout irritably. "How anyone stands your planet's wretched temperatures is beyond me”

He snapped his intake shut tightly, vents expelling a sharp burst of hot air to fully purge any remaining moisture. Though loath to rely on such crude organic methods, Starscream's newly cleaned plating shone as triumphant as ever. The human had proven. sufficient, if barely, for their demeaning chore.

They squeal as Starscream transforms, grabbing them and lifting them up optic level. They laugh more, and for once Starscream finds it almost delightful how their voice echoes of the different frequencies. Even if they were a pest at the best of times. "Well look at you, all freshened up you don't look half bad." They state proudly.

"Your a pest," he conceded grudgingly. His optics flickered, scanning the organic clutched close. Gingerly, Starscream lowered them back to the ground. "It seems your crude manual methods have...sufficed, Now run along." His engine rumbled, a not-so-subtle dismissal. But for once, no sting of wrath laced the Seeker's words. "begone, before your nasty touch soils me further." His grumbled with an audible click.

Skywarp

Skywarp felt the human shudder against his frame. He vented softly, knowing he lacked the energy reserves to maintain his internal heating to run the heater in the cockpit for long in this condition. After being shot down, they had barely managed to make it to this cave and he could feel his systems needing to shut down to conserve power to heal.

"Easy little one, try to stay awake. My self-repairs are attempting to reroute what power I can, but it may not be enough to keep you warm." His plating rattled shakily as tried to patch what gaps they could. A fall of temperatures that would do little to him but could snuff out their fragile form or make them sick. "Remain still and try to breathe slowly. I've tried contacting the others, but the rock is interfering with transmissions."

They pull their jackets closer. "How's the damage?" They ask through a shaky voice. Their breath is visible in the air but they still so more worry for him than their own situation.

Skywarp ran another self-diagnostic scan. The damage was severe. his systems were barely functioning above stasis lock but he was fighting against it, for their sake.

"My systems are heavily damaged from the crash and stasis is trying to set in," he said as evenly as possible his voice is static-laced and shaking. "But my self-repair functions are attempting to stabilise the worst systems so I can last until help comes. If the Autobots don't find us first"

He focused what remaining power he had into his communications beacon, hoping his location ping would finally break through the rocky interference.

Skywarp knew they were likely frightened, putting on a brave face for him due to how injured he was. being trapped in a dark cave with a half-disabled mech wasn't what either of them had planned on their night flight . But he had to keep them alive and try not to panic himself. For now, all he could offer was what protection and warmth his tired frame could provide.

" I may have a plan to keep you warm," he said gently. "My vents are internally heated and large enough that you could climb inside. Being so close to my engine and spark should keep you warm. It is not an ideal situation, but may better allow me to shield you with what power I have left and even in stasis it will keep you warm."

"Ok" they state softly as they slowly move carefully climbing up into the vent. As they move back further into the vent they lay down against the warm metal letting out a sigh of relief. The sound of the heavy rain outside makes them peak their head back out just enough to watch it.

"Thank you" they call out, eyes slowly fluttering closed as they bask in the heat that radiates off Skywarp. He emitted a soft rumble in acknowledgement. As they settle back further inside against his internal metal walls, he vents a sigh of relief.

"You are most welcome, little one," Skywarp replied gently. "How do you feel?" he asked. “tried, I'm just glad you're alright, try and recover. I'm warm here, you won't be losing me tonight” they state bravely.

Skywarp did his best to calm his systems. "Try to rest if you are able." His systems begin shutting down into recharge. The sound of heavy rain echo's into the cave.

when they wake up they are wrapped in multiple blankets held close to skywarps chassis, As the Seeker recharges. As memory of the cave ordeal was still fuzzy, confusion gave way to relief as warmth and safety registered. Beneath the layers of thermal blankets, nestled securely against Skywarp's recharging chest plates. His steady spark pulse and low internal hum soothed any remaining unease.

Reaching out tentatively, they trailed gentle fingers across his armoured plating, Drawing nearer to his spark's glow, they let out a sigh of contentment and relief as they snuggled closer to him.

Thundercracker

the small human wanders around his form checking for any damage from the Scraplet which had gotten into his vent. Small hands slowly weld the damage closed so that his systems could finish the job of mending.

“Thank you for your assistance, Starscream has me on tight patrols lately, as you've noticed." He waits patiently for them to finish, not wanting to jostle them as they work. "They don't know I'm here do they?" They asked softly, they knew Thundercracker had a soft spot for them, but they also hoped the con wasn't going against orders just for their company.

Thundercracker pauses "No, they don't know. I try to visit when I can get away without them noticing."

"Starscream has been keeping me flying patrol nearly nonstop lately, so it's been harder to slip away. But I couldn't leave without checking on you." He starts "Just a few more checks, don't want you trying to take off if you're still hurt or if there's another scraplet in your vents " they state while moving towards the large jet vents. Peeking inside. "It looks like you got more than you bargained for" they remark as they try to reach for the piece of shrapnel inside the vent. They grumble before climbing up into the vent, to try and remove the metal.

Thundercracker lets out a soft chuckle as the human climbs into his vents to remove the small chuckles of what was left of the dead creature. He remains as still as possible so as not to endanger them.

"Indeed, that scraplet got the drop on me during my last patrol. Barely managed to get it out of my vent before it did any critical damage to my fans and engine. Thank you for your help removing it, my servos are far too large to fit in there. Just please be careful, I'd never forgive myself if you got hurt."

A laugh echoes from them inside the vent, "fuck they did a number on you" they call out as the dislodging more metal and throw the peices out of the vent. Thundercracker lets out a soft chuckle at the human's crass language, not bothered in the slightest. "Indeed they did, the fragging scraplets really know how to leave a mess behind."

They turn their torch on checking the rest of the vent. Crawling through it into a small gap before through into the other side. "What would you do without me?" They tease while making sure there isn't any other damage or scraplets hiding waiting to cause more damage. "As for what I'd do without you, I'd likely be running far less efficiently with pieces of shrapnel still lodged in my vents."

He says in a gently teasing tone. "Between you and my self-repair systems, I'll be as good as new before long. Almost feels like getting a tune up from my old mechanic back on Cybertron. Thank you for your help"

"Anytime Thunder, I've got to keep my favourite jet in working order " they hum while climbing their way back out of the vent. They lean up and press a soft kiss to the side of metal.

"Perhaps someday, I could return the favour and aid you in your repairs."

Thundercracker hums softly in response, feeling a warmth in his spark at the gesture of affection from them. “oh Thundercracker you sweetheart but I'd leave medical stuff to the medics” the tease which makes him chuckle as he transforms.

They slowly begin wiping their hands off as they watch the Seeker. "You best get going before the others come looking and find that you have been keeping pets" they tease. Thundercracker smiles softly in amusement at the human's teasing words. "Indeed, it would not do for Megatron or Starscream to discover I've been keeping a human 'pet'. Primus only knows what those two would do." He leans down and presses a soft kiss to their forehead. “Stay out of trouble my little mechanic” he mumbles to them.

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