#you’re some kind of wizard | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elikajinnie · 20 days ago

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Forbidden Taste - L.H

P: Slytherin!Heeseung X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Teasing, Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive Content, Angst, Misunderstandings, Jealousy, Myung Jaehyun Cameo, Incorrect Use Of Amortenia.

Synopsis: You’re not popular at Hogwarts, so why is Lee Heeseung, Slytherin royalty, so intent on having you? You don’t know, and you don’t question it—until jealousy and a pink potion threaten everything.

a/n: WHAT A JOURNEY IT HAS BEEN! Thank you all <3 all the members are now completed! (i changed the plot for this so many times, its insane)

want to read the other members? -> masterlist

You weren’t massively popular at Hogwarts, but people knew you. Not in the way that they’d scream your name in the corridors or seek you out during mealtimes, but enough that when your name came up in conversation, there’d be nods of recognition. Oh, yeah. Decent flyer. Smart enough to keep up in classes, but not obnoxious about it. You built your reputation in small, deliberate ways—early on, too. By the time you hit your third year, you realized it wasn’t just about house points or grades. If you didn’t carve out your place here, Hogwarts could chew you up and spit you out.

So, you made connections. Little alliances. You weren’t a name in bold letters, but you weren’t invisible either. A compliment here, a conversation there. Small, calculated acts of charm to ensure you weren’t just some shadow skulking through the hallways. Yet you never overdid it. Just enough to make sure you wouldn’t be forgotten.

And honestly, that was fine. You had your friends and housemates, the people who mattered to you most. The ones you could collapse with after a particularly grueling Potions lesson or laugh with over Butterbeer-flavored Bertie Bott’s Beans in the common room. It wasn’t the spotlight, but it was enough.

It’s weird how quickly that balance can shift, though. How one incident—one person—can flip everything upside down.

It really was funny—hilarious, even. You had no answer as to why he suddenly latched onto you, why he started pursuing you of all people. Lee fucking Heeseung. One of the most popular Slytherins in his year, practically Hogwarts royalty.

Usually, people would trip over their own feet for the chance to be seen with him. Heeseung had everything: pureblood lineage, one of the best Beaters Hogwarts had seen in years, a face straight out of Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Wizards list, and a charisma that could charm the scales off a dragon. He was smart, too—top of his classes in subjects he actually cared about—and everyone knew his family was filthy rich.

He was the kind of person others orbited around. Someone whose presence turned heads the moment he walked into a room. The kind of guy you were perfectly fine staying away from because people like him didn’t care about people like you. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, he chose you.

All because you ran into him one day.

It wasn’t even that dramatic of an encounter. You were late for Transfiguration, books piled in your arms, hurrying down the corridor like your life depended on it. And then—bam. You’d slammed into what felt like a brick wall. Except brick walls didn’t have arms that steadied you as your books tumbled to the floor, and they definitely didn’t have sharp jawlines and a gaze that pinned you to the spot.

“Sorry!” you’d muttered, scrambling to pick up your books, too flustered to even look him in the eye. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t throw out the kind of snarky insult Slytherins were known for. He just… watched you. And when you dashed off down the corridor, cheeks burning with embarrassment, you thought that was the end of it.

Except it wasn’t.

After that, Heeseung started showing up. Everywhere.

At first, it was subtle. A glance in the Great Hall that lingered too long to be coincidental. A smirk when you passed him in the corridors. Then it escalated. Sitting at your table in the library, asking casually about your Charms essay while his friends shot curious looks your way. Offering to walk you to class, claiming it was “on his way” even when it clearly wasn’t. Stealing a seat beside you in Herbology, leaning closer than necessary to peek at your notes.

It didn’t take long for people to notice. Whispers started following you wherever you went, growing louder with every interaction. Your friends pestered you for answers you didn’t have, and his admirers glared daggers at you from across the room.

And all you could think was, Why? Why you? Out of all the girls fawning over him—purebloods, Quidditch stars, girls far prettier and more polished than you—what on earth made Lee Heeseung decide you were worth his attention?

You tried convincing yourself that it was a joke. Some elaborate Slytherin prank that you’d accidentally wandered into. Any day now, you’d wake up to Heeseung laughing in your face, surrounded by his friends, as he revealed that all of this—every smirk, every casual wave, every time he leaned in close enough for you to catch a whiff of his expensive cologne—was just for his own entertainment.

But the days passed, and the teasing you braced yourself for never came. If anything, Heeseung’s attention only intensified.

“I could help you with that, you know,” he offered one day during a particularly grueling Potions class. You’d been furiously scribbling notes, trying to keep up with Professor Slughorn’s lecture. Heeseung was perched on the edge of your shared table, his hand propping up his chin as he watched you.

“With what?” you asked without looking up, determined not to let his lazy, amused tone fluster you.

“Your notes,” he said, gesturing at your parchment. “Your handwriting’s awful. What if you can’t read it later?”

You shot him a glare, but he just grinned. “I’ll manage,” you said, shoving your notes further away from him for good measure.

Moments like that became your new normal. Heeseung showing up uninvited, weaving himself into your day like he belonged there. Offering to help you study, sneaking your favorite dessert onto your plate in the Great Hall, throwing an arm around your shoulders like you were long-lost friends.

And yet, despite your initial resistance, you found yourself softening. Heeseung wasn’t as insufferable as you’d assumed he’d be. Sure, he was cocky—he wouldn’t be Lee Heeseung if he weren’t—but he also had this disarming charm about him. He listened when you spoke, remembered the little things you mentioned in passing, and had a way of making you laugh when you least expected it.

You acted normal around him—or at least, you tried to. You didn’t show how much he affected you, how your pulse quickened when he leaned in close, the playful smirk on his lips as he talked to you about some trivial thing. You didn’t let it show when he’d take your books without asking, holding them effortlessly with one hand as if they weighed nothing, and you definitely didn’t let him see how your cheeks burned when he casually brushed his fingers against yours as he handed them back.

You didn’t react when he helped you in Potions either, his voice low in your ear as he whispered which ingredients to add next, his breath warm against your skin. Even when your heart stuttered, you kept your face neutral, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he got under your skin.

And Merlin, did he love to push.

He’d ditch his friends without a second thought, his usual crowd of Slytherins calling after him as he veered off to sit with you instead. You’d hear their muffled complaints from across the room, but Heeseung didn’t seem to care. He’d just flash them that infuriatingly perfect smile—the one that screamed, I know exactly what I’m doing,—and plop down next to you like he’d been there all along.

“Don’t you have other people to bother?” you’d mutter, barely glancing at him as he propped his chin on his hand, watching you with an intensity that made it impossible to focus on anything else.

“Why would I, when you’re so much more interesting?” he’d reply smoothly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in a way that sent your stomach into an uninvited freefall.

But you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a blush or a flustered response. Instead, you’d roll your eyes and pretend to be annoyed, even as you caught yourself glancing at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

The truth was, Heeseung made it harder and harder to ignore him. He wasn’t just persistent—he was thoughtful in ways you didn’t expect. He remembered the tiniest details, like how you hated licorice wands or how you preferred studying in the library’s quieter corners. He went out of his way to make your day just a little easier, sliding your favorite pastries onto your plate at breakfast or swapping out your worn-out quills with brand-new ones from his bag.

It was infuriating. And endearing. And confusing.

Maybe it was the way he always seemed to know when you needed cheering up, or the way his voice softened when he spoke to you, or the way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the room that mattered.

But you weren’t ready to admit it. Not to yourself, and definitely not to him. So, you kept acting normal, pretending like he didn’t affect you as much as he did.

At this point, even your friends couldn’t keep quiet about it. Every time Heeseung walked into a room and made a beeline for you, their eyebrows would raise a little higher. When he’d flash you one of his trademark grins or casually sling an arm around your shoulders, their teasing smirks were impossible to miss.

“So, are you two a thing, or what?” one of your friends finally asked during a late-night study session in the common room.

“No,” you said quickly, maybe a little too quickly, and their skeptical look said it all.

“Well, he certainly thinks you are,” another chimed in, grinning as they flipped through their Charms textbook. “You do realize half the school thinks you’re secretly dating, right?”

You rolled your eyes, brushing it off. “He’s just… like that. It’s probably some sort of game to him.”

But even as you said it, you weren’t so sure. Because if this was a game, Heeseung was playing it far too convincingly.

And then he went and completely blindsided you.

It was after Defense Against the Dark Arts, a class you shared with him. You’d just finished stuffing your notes into your bag, about to make your way to the library, when he appeared beside you, his usual confident grin plastered across his face.

“So,” he started casually, leaning against your desk. “Want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

You froze, blinking at him like you hadn’t heard him properly. “What?”

“Hogsmeade,” he repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You. Me. A date.”

Your brain stuttered at the word. A date?

“You’re joking,” you said, though your voice sounded a little less confident than you would’ve liked.

“I’m not,” he said simply, tilting his head and watching you with that annoyingly earnest expression that made it impossible to tell if he was messing with you.

“I… I can’t,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks grow warm. “I mean, thank you, but I don’t think—”

“Don’t think too hard about it,” he interrupted smoothly, cutting off your attempt at a polite rejection. “I like you. You like me—don’t even try to deny it,” he added quickly, smirking when you opened your mouth to argue. “So why not give it a shot?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Heeseung, I—”

“Before you say no,” he said, leaning in closer, “think about this. What’s the worst that could happen? You have a good time with me? Sounds like a pretty low-risk situation, if you ask me.”

It was infuriating how he made it sound so simple, like agreeing to a date with him wasn’t the most intimidating thing in the world.

“I’m serious, Heeseung,” you said, trying to sound firm. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“And I’m serious,” he countered, his voice dropping slightly. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

The way he said it wasn’t pushy or aggressive—it was confident, certain, like he already knew you were going to say yes eventually. And maybe that’s what threw you off the most.

You glanced at him one last time before turning to leave the classroom, your lips pressed into a tight line.

And of course, he followed.

“Hey, wait!” he called, his voice echoing down the corridor as you walked ahead, refusing to look back.

“I said no, Heeseung,” you said over your shoulder, quickening your pace.

“And I said I’m not taking no for an answer,” he shot back, his footsteps ringing louder as he hurried to catch up with you. “You didn’t even give me a proper reason!”

“I don’t need to give you a reason!” you replied, exasperated, keeping your gaze fixed forward.

But he wasn’t giving up. He was persistent—too persistent. You could hear him muttering under his breath, probably running through a list of arguments to convince you, but before he could get another word out, you heard a loud, unmistakable yelp.

Pausing mid-step, you turned just in time to see Heeseung stumble over a loose stone jutting out of the floor, his arms flailing to keep his balance. He caught himself at the last second, straightening up and brushing off his robes like nothing happened.

“Smooth,” you said, unable to stop the amused quirk of your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he muttered, jogging a few steps to close the distance between you.

But the second he got close, you picked up your pace again, determined not to let him win.

He didn’t stop, though. Heeseung was like a particularly annoying shadow, trailing after you with single-minded determination. Except this shadow seemed to have the worst luck imaginable.

Not five steps later, you heard a startled “Hey, watch it!” from a much shorter Ravenclaw student as Heeseung nearly crashed into them.

“Yeah, yeah! Sorry!” he called over his shoulder, not even slowing down as he kept his focus on you.

You didn’t bother hiding your grin this time, though you kept walking.

And then, just as he was about to catch up again, you saw it—a ghost floating lazily through the corridor ahead.

“Heeseung,” you said without stopping, your tone almost warning.

“What?” he asked, completely oblivious, his gaze fixed on you instead of what was in front of him.

You didn’t answer. You just waited for it to happen.

Sure enough, he strode directly into the ghost—a particularly dramatic one, judging by the loud whoosh and Heeseung’s subsequent startled shiver as he stumbled back.

“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed, swiping at his robes as if it’d help.

“Maybe if you watched where you were going…” you said, finally stopping to face him, arms crossed over your chest as you raised an eyebrow.

He shook his head, his focus snapping back to you almost instantly. “I’ll watch where I’m going when you stop running away from me,” he said, his voice laced with determination.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could turn away again, he stepped closer, this time careful not to trip over anything or crash into anyone.

“Look,” he said, his tone softer now. “I know I’m being persistent. But it’s only because I really want you to say yes. Just one date. That’s all I’m asking. If you hate it, I’ll back off. But I think we’ll have a good time.”

For the first time, you hesitated. There was something about the way he looked at you—earnest, hopeful—that made it hard to brush him off like before. Heeseung wasn’t just being cocky now; he was being sincere. And it was that sincerity that made your resolve waver.

“One date,” he repeated, holding your gaze. “What do you say?”

You sighed, stopping long enough to turn and face him properly. His eyes were wide, his expression almost pleading but still holding that annoying confidence that made him, well, Heeseung.

“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms. “One date. But if I don’t enjoy it, that’s it. No more asking, no more following me around, no more…” You gestured vaguely toward him, “…whatever this is.”

His face broke into a grin so smug and victorious that you instantly regretted agreeing.

“Deal,” he said without hesitation. “But don’t worry, you’re going to love it.”

“Don’t push your luck,” you muttered, but the way his grin grew wider told you he’d already won this round.

“Alright, then,” he said, taking a step closer. Too close. You could feel the faintest brush of his robes against yours as he leaned in. “This Saturday, Three Broomsticks. Noon. I’ll even buy you Butterbeer.”

“Wow, how generous of you,” you deadpanned, but your heart was doing that annoying fluttering thing again.

“You’ll see,” he said, his voice dropping lower, teasing. “I’m full of surprises.”

Before you could fire back a snarky response, his hands moved, one settling on your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath hitched.

You weren’t sure what he was saying—something about how the Three Broomsticks had the best treacle tart, or maybe how he’d already booked a spot with Madam Rosmerta—but the words blurred in your head. All you could focus on was his hand, warm and firm, holding you in place. And his body, so close to yours that you could feel the faint heat radiating off him.

Your mind raced, trying to decide if you should pull away or just let him keep talking.

“…don’t tell me you’ve never tried the cinnamon hot chocolate there,” he said, his lips curving into another grin.

“What?” you blurted, blinking up at him, trying to drag your attention back to his actual words.

He chuckled, the sound low and soft, and you hated how it made your stomach flip.

“You weren’t even listening,” he teased, his thumb brushing lightly against your waist before he pulled back, giving you just enough space to breathe again.

“Maybe if you weren’t so close, I’d be able to concentrate,” you shot back, though your voice came out a little weaker than you’d intended.

Heeseung didn’t look fazed. If anything, he looked even more pleased with himself, like he knew exactly how flustered you were and wasn’t planning to let you forget it anytime soon.

“Guess I’ll have to tell you on our date, then,” he said, stepping back fully now, his smirk still firmly in place.

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks burned as you turned away, determined not to let him see just how much he was getting to you.

“Saturday,” he called after you as you started walking again, his tone light and cheerful. “Don’t forget!”

You didn’t answer, but you didn’t need to. The truth was, no matter how much you tried to deny it, you knew you wouldn’t forget. Not with the way your heart was still racing.

Saturday came faster than you expected, and by the time you were standing in front of the Three Broomsticks, you were already second-guessing your decision. Why did you agree to this again? Oh, right—because Heeseung was annoyingly persistent, and some traitorous part of you was curious to see what a date with him would actually be like.

You adjusted your scarf, the chill of the winter air biting at your cheeks. The sound of chatter and clinking glasses spilled out of the tavern, and for a brief moment, you considered turning around and pretending you’d forgotten. But before you could so much as take a step back, a familiar voice called out behind you.

“You’re early.”

You turned to see Heeseung approaching, dressed in his usual green-and-silver scarf, his black coat tailored perfectly to him. His hair was slightly tousled from the wind, and he wore that same confident smile that made your stomach twist in ways you wished it wouldn’t.

“I’m on time,” you corrected, crossing your arms.

“Early, on time—same thing,” he said, coming to a stop in front of you. His eyes scanned you briefly, and for a second, you thought you saw something softer in his expression. “You look good.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you immediately regretted your decision to wear something classy. “Don’t start,” you muttered, brushing past him toward the door.

He laughed, catching up to you easily. “What? It’s a compliment!”

“Yeah, yeah.” You pushed open the door, grateful for the wave of warmth that greeted you as you stepped inside.

The Three Broomsticks was busy, as it always was on weekends, but Heeseung didn’t seem the least bit fazed. He waved to Madam Rosmerta, who greeted him like they were old friends, and led you to a small table near the window that had somehow been left open.

“See?” he said, pulling out a chair for you. “Perfect spot.”

You hesitated for a moment before sitting down, mumbling a quiet, “Thanks,” as he slid into the seat across from you.

For a few moments, it was quiet—well, as quiet as it could be in the bustling tavern. You busied yourself with looking out the window, watching as students milled about in the snow-covered streets of Hogsmeade.

“So,” Heeseung said, breaking the silence. “What’s your go-to order here?”

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”

“Because,” he said with a grin, leaning forward slightly, “I want to make sure you actually enjoy this date. Remember? You said if you didn’t, I couldn’t ask again.”

“Still sticking to that, by the way,” you reminded him.

“Noted,” he said, looking far too amused for your liking. “But I’m confident you’ll have a good time.”

“Of course you are,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

You ended up ordering Butterbeer and treacle tart—not because you particularly wanted it, but because he wouldn’t stop raving about it earlier that week.

When the drinks and food arrived, the conversation started off slow, but much to your surprise, it wasn’t awkward. Heeseung had a way of keeping things light and entertaining.

And, annoyingly, he kept making you laugh.

After you finished at the Three Broomsticks, Heeseung didn’t let the day end there. Instead, he insisted on taking you around Hogsmeade, claiming it was his duty to make sure you had the full experience.

“This isn’t my first time here, you know,” you said as he led you down the cobblestone streets, passing shop after shop.

“Yeah, but it’s your first time here with me,” he countered, flashing you that same cocky grin that had you rolling your eyes for the tenth time that day.

Still, you didn’t protest when he pulled you into Honeydukes, pointing out his favorite candies and piling a small bag with sweets you hadn’t even asked for. “It’s on me,” he said when you tried to argue, waving you off like it was nothing.

Next, he dragged you to Zonko’s, where he spent far too much time marveling over the prank items and showing you his favorites with the enthusiasm of a first-year discovering the place for the first time. You couldn’t help but smile as he rattled off stories of the chaos he’d caused with them in the Slytherin common room.

And then, just as you were debating whether or not to call it a day, it started snowing.

Soft, delicate flakes drifted down from the sky, blanketing the streets and rooftops in a thin layer of white. The air grew quieter, the hustle and bustle of Hogsmeade fading into the background as people paused to take in the sight.

You stopped walking, tilting your head back slightly to watch the snow fall. For a moment, you forgot about Heeseung entirely, your mind quieting as you focused on the tiny snowflakes melting against your skin.

When you finally looked back at him, he was staring at you.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He didn’t answer right away, his eyes soft as they searched your face. Finally, he said, “You.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What about me?”

“You’re just…” He trailed off, taking a step closer. His voice was quieter now, more serious. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and before you could even think of how to respond, he closed the space between you, his hand gently reaching for your scarf.

You stood frozen as he adjusted it carefully, his fingers brushing against your neck as he tightened it slightly to block out the cold. His touch was warm, his movements unhurried, and when he was finished, his hands lingered for just a second longer than necessary.

“There,” he said softly, his gaze meeting yours again. “Wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm, and it wasn’t from the weather. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, but your voice lacked its usual bite.

“And yet, you’re still here with me,” he teased, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You didn’t respond, turning your gaze back to the falling snow. But as Heeseung slipped his hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, you didn’t pull away, cause you didn’t feel the need to fight him.

The rest of the walk through Hogsmeade passed in a comfortable silence, your hands still entwined as the snow continued to fall around you. You didn’t know how Heeseung managed to make it feel so… easy. Like holding hands with him was something you’d been doing for years. Like the tension that had built between you over the past weeks had melted away as quickly as the snowflakes on his coat.

He led you to the outskirts of the village, where the streets grew quieter, and the noise of other students faded into the background. The path was lined with trees dusted in white, their bare branches glistening under the faint light of the afternoon sun.

“It’s nice out here,” you murmured, your breath visible in the crisp air.

“Yeah,” Heeseung said, but when you glanced at him, you realized he wasn’t looking at the trees or the snow-covered landscape. He was looking at you again.

“What?” you asked, your voice softer now, a little less defensive.

He shrugged, his lips curling into that small, genuine smile you were starting to recognize—the one he didn’t use often, the one that wasn’t for show. “Nothing. Just… you seem different today.”

“Different?”

“Yeah,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of your hand. “Less scary.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “I’m not scary.”

“Tell that to everyone else who’s too afraid to talk to you.”

“Maybe I just don’t like wasting my time,” you said, smirking up at him.

“Well, lucky me, then,” he replied, his tone teasing. “You must think I’m worth it.”

Before you could say anything, though, he stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His free hand reached up to brush a stray snowflake from your hair, and you froze at the tenderness of the gesture.

“You’re really something, you know that?” he said, his voice low, his gaze steady on yours.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “You keep saying things like that,” you mumbled, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

“Because I mean it,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And then, before you could overthink it, he leaned in—not too fast, not too slow. Just enough to give you time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t.

The kiss was soft, warm, and fleeting, like a snowflake landing on your lips and melting before you could fully feel it. When he pulled back, his face was close enough that you could still feel his breath against your skin.

“I’ll take that as a yes to a second date,” he murmured, his tone teasing but his eyes holding that same sincerity that had caught you off guard from the start.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just rolled your eyes and tugged him along, back toward the village.

But the small smile on your face told him everything he needed to know.

As you and Heeseung continued down the snowy path, oblivious to everything else around you, neither of you noticed the three figures hidden just out of sight, watching your every move. They stood together, concealed by the shadow of the trees, their eyes trained on the way you and Heeseung interacted, the way your hands fit together so naturally.

It didn’t take long for the bitterness to fester. One of them, a girl with dark brown hair and a scowl that could cut glass, clenched her fists at her sides, watching the way Heeseung smiled at you, how easily he made you laugh.

"Of course she’s with him," she muttered under her breath, her voice laced with venom. "She always has to go after what’s not hers."

Beside her, another figure—taller, with blonde hair—narrowed her eyes at the scene. "We’ve all been trying for years. Why her? What makes her so special?" Her voice was low, barely controlled, and her gaze burned with resentment.

The third figure, a quieter one, with sharp eyes and a calculating expression, stood back, observing the situation silently. She was still for a moment before she spoke, her voice calm but filled with hidden malice. "Maybe it's time we remind him who belongs by his side."

The girl with the dark hair stepped forward, fists still clenched, the fire in her eyes growing. "Let’s see if we can’t change his mind."

They lingered in the shadows, watching as Heeseung pulled you closer, speaking in soft tones that made your smile widen. The sight of the two of you together twisted in their hearts, their jealousy and rage bubbling over. They knew that this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

None of you could have predicted what would happen next.

The next few days were a blur of contentment. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this happy, or this at ease. Heeseung had truly surpassed every expectation you’d set for him. He was everything you didn’t know you needed in a boyfriend—gentle when you were stressed, confident when you were unsure, and always there to make you smile, even on your worst days.

When you studied together in the library, he’d always find ways to make learning feel less like a chore. Whether it was cracking jokes during boring Potions readings or helping you with Transfiguration, his presence made even the most tedious subjects bearable. And when you were working on homework together in the common room, you’d catch him looking over at you, that amused glint in his eye as if he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you.

You’d even gone to his Quidditch match that weekend, which turned into one of the most exciting games you’d ever watched. Heeseung had played brilliantly, his focus unshakable as he zoomed around the pitch, expertly dodging Bludgers and scoring goal after goal.

When the match ended, with Slytherin emerging victorious, Heeseung found you in the stands, grinning widely as he jogged over to you.

“Good game?” you teased, unable to contain the excitement in your voice.

Heeseung shrugged, feigning modesty. "You know, I couldn’t have done it without my good luck charm."

Your heart fluttered as he slipped his Slytherin Quidditch jersey over your head, his hands lingering on your shoulders just a little longer than necessary. "This is for you," he said, his voice low but playful. “You made me win.”

You blinked, looking down at the jersey, which was too big for you but somehow made you feel like you were wearing a piece of him. “I didn’t do anything—”

“Yeah, but you were there," he interrupted, his fingers lightly brushing your cheek as he grinned. “That’s all I needed.”

But Heeseung had one problem—he never knew when to stop kissing. An innocent kiss shared with you would quickly turn into something far more passionate, the kind of kiss that left you breathless, with your heart racing in your chest. His lips would press against yours, and before you knew it, he’d pull you even closer, deepening the kiss with a soft but urgent intensity.

His hands would find their way to your waist, tugging gently as he pulled you closer, and you couldn’t help but melt into him. His kisses weren’t just kisses—they were all-consuming, leaving you dizzy.

It wasn’t long before his hair would become messy, stray locks falling into his eyes as he kissed you with that playful but determined energy. By the time you pulled apart, your lips would be sore, swollen from his insistence. And your neck? Covered with small, dark marks—hickeys left behind as reminders of every moment he couldn’t quite control himself around you.

But the world wasn’t fair to you.

One day, everything changed. You had walked up to Heeseung, as you did every day, eager to see him after class, to share a laugh, maybe steal a quick kiss. But when you rounded the corner, you froze.

There, in the hallway, Heeseung was kissing a Slytherin girl—her hands tangled in his hair, his arms wrapped around her in a way that was so familiar, so intimate, that it felt like a punch to your chest.

Your breath caught in your throat, your body frozen in place, as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. The warmth of his kisses, the tenderness you thought was reserved for you, was now being given to someone else.

And when Heeseung finally pulled away from her, noticing you standing there, your heart shattered.

He didn’t even look surprised to see you. His eyes met yours, cold and indifferent. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice flat.

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t breathe. You felt as though the ground had been ripped from beneath you, leaving you dangling in the air, completely lost.

Then, the words you never expected to hear came tumbling from his mouth.

“I never had feelings for you,” he said, his tone casual, almost dismissive. “I never loved you.”

Your world tilted. The person you had trusted, the one who had made you feel special, had never felt the same. All those moments meant nothing. They were nothing but lies.

The pain surged through you like a tidal wave. You felt your chest constrict, your eyes stinging with the heat of unshed tears. Your voice broke as you screamed at him, “How could you? After everything?!”

But it didn’t matter. He didn’t care.

The girl with him—her smirk stretched wide, malicious and triumphant—stepped closer to Heeseung, hanging off his arm like she had every right to be there. Her eyes flicked to you, cold and triumphant, as if she reveled in your pain.

You didn’t even recognize the version of Heeseung standing before you. The boy you thought you knew—the one who had held you like you were everything to him—was gone. In his place was someone who didn’t care at all.

You turned on your heel, running away before the tears could spill. Your heart was breaking with every step, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him, at them. You didn’t want to see the cruel smirk on her face, or the emptiness in his eyes.

You were heartbroken, yes, but beneath the sorrow was a rising tide of anger—burning, raw, and uncontrollable. How could Heeseung break your heart like that? After everything, after acting like you were the only woman in his life, like you were the one he couldn’t live without?

The memories played on a loop in your mind, tormenting you. The way he would pull you close and whisper that you were perfect for him. The way he’d laugh at your jokes, even the bad ones, and say that you made his days better.

It had all been a lie.

You paced the empty corridor, your thoughts spiraling into a storm of hurt and rage. Your fists clenched at your sides as tears streaked down your face. You wanted to scream, to cry, to find him and demand answers. How could someone who seemed so perfect turn out to be so cruel?

The image of him kissing that girl was seared into your mind, taunting you. The way she had smirked at you, so smug and triumphant, like she’d won some twisted game. The way Heeseung had looked at you—not with the warmth and love you were used to, but with indifference, as if you had been nothing but a fleeting amusement.

The days after that were some of the hardest you’d ever endured. You refused to let Heeseung see how much he had broken you, refused to let him or anyone else know how deeply his betrayal had cut. Instead, you buried your pain beneath a carefully crafted mask. You laughed with your friends, answered questions in class, and even managed to pull off smiles in the Great Hall. To everyone else, it was like nothing had happened.

But when you were alone, the mask slipped, and the weight of it all came crashing down. The nights were the worst, when you lay in bed replaying the moment over and over, like a cruel, inescapable nightmare. The sound of his words—I never loved you—echoed in your mind, shredding your heart all over again.

One afternoon, during Potions class, the pain overwhelmed you. Heeseung had walked in, all casual as if nothing had happened. He didn’t look your way—not even once—but that didn’t stop the memory of his betrayal from stabbing at your chest.

Your hands shook as you measured out ingredients for your potion, your vision blurring as hot tears threatened to spill. You couldn’t take it anymore. Quietly excusing yourself, you fled the classroom, muttering something about needing the restroom before anyone could stop you.

The moment you stepped into the dimly lit bathroom, the tears you’d been holding back came rushing out. You leaned against the sink, gripping the edges tightly as sobs wracked your body.

You didn’t even notice Moaning Myrtle until her soft voice broke through your cries.

“Rough day?”

Startled, you looked up, your tear-streaked face meeting the ghost’s translucent figure. She was floating by one of the sinks, her usual pout replaced with something almost... sympathetic.

You sniffled, quickly wiping your face. “Sorry, Myrtle. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Myrtle shook her head, hovering closer. “You’re not disturbing me,” she said quietly. “I know what it’s like to cry in here. To feel... forgotten.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected. For once, she wasn’t mocking you or complaining about her own misfortunes. She was just... there, watching you with a sadness in her ghostly eyes that mirrored your own pain.

“I just don’t get it,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “How could someone say they cared and then... and then throw it all away like it meant nothing?”

Myrtle tilted her head, her gaze softening even more. “Boys are awful,” she said matter-of-factly, her tone holding a mix of understanding and bitterness. “They make you feel special, and then they break you."

You let out a shaky laugh, though it was more bitter than anything else. “Yeah, well, he’s the worst of them.”

Myrtle floated closer, hovering just beside you as you leaned over the sink, your tears falling freely now,and she stayed there, silently watching as you poured your heart out in the empty bathroom.

When you finally wiped your face and straightened up, Myrtle gave you a small, sad smile. “He’s not worth it,” she said softly.

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak, and with a final glance at your tear-streaked reflection, you left the bathroom.

You kept watching hopelessly as Heeseung changed right before your eyes. Despite being a Slytherin, he’d always been different—sharp, confident, but never cruel. He treated others with respect, even when it wasn’t expected of him, and it was one of the reasons people gravitated toward him so easily.

But now… now he wasn’t the same.

You started noticing it in small things at first. He’d snap at younger students who accidentally got in his way, barking out insults that made their faces crumple in embarrassment. He’d push past others in the corridors with an air of arrogance that felt alien, not sparing them a glance or apology.

Then, it became more deliberate. In Potions, you overheard him taunting a Gryffindor girl for botching her assignment, his words dripping with disdain. During Quidditch practice, he shouted at his teammates with a venom you’d never seen before, his frustration palpable even from the stands.

It didn’t just confuse you—it confused everyone.

Heeseung had always been popular, not just because of his looks or his Quidditch skills, but because he was charismatic. He had a way of making others feel comfortable, seen, and valued, even if they weren’t in his social circle. But now, that warmth was gone.

You overheard students whispering about him. “What’s gotten into Heeseung?” one Ravenclaw asked her friend as they passed you in the hallway. “He’s acting like a total git lately.”

“I know,” her friend agreed. “He’s not like this. It’s so weird.”

And it was weird. Heeseung wasn’t like this. He wasn’t the type to knock books out of a first-year’s hands and keep walking, or to purposely humiliate someone in front of their peers just to get a laugh. But that was exactly what he was doing now, and every time you saw it, you felt that ache in your chest grow deeper.

What had changed?

You wanted to convince yourself it didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t your problem. He had made that clear when he kissed someone else and shattered your heart in the process. But as much as you tried to turn a blind eye, you couldn’t.

This wasn’t just about you anymore.

Heeseung’s behavior was affecting everyone, and the boy who had once made you laugh until your sides hurt was now someone you barely recognized. Watching him spiral like this hurt more than you cared to admit.

But the question remained: why? What had turned him into this unknown version of himself?

The answer to that question was revealed to you one day, completely by accident.

You were on your way to your common room, distracted as you dug through your bag, mentally ticking off the homework you still had to finish. You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, not until someone grabbed your arm and yanked you into an empty classroom.

You yelped, stumbling as you turned to face your captor. “What the—”

A Slytherin girl stood before you, her wide eyes darting nervously toward the door, as though she was afraid of being followed or heard. She placed a finger to her lips, hushing you before you could finish your sentence.

“What is your problem?” you hissed, yanking your arm out of her grip.

“Shh!” she insisted, glancing toward the corridor one last time before shutting the door behind her. Her actions were suspicious, like she was about to do something she wasn’t supposed to.

You crossed your arms, glaring at her. “Care to explain why you just dragged me in here?”

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You’re Heeseung`s girlfriend.”

The mention of his name immediately sent a pang through your chest, but you held your ground. “Was,” you corrected sharply. “Not anymore.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Look, I don’t have a lot of time, so just listen. Heeseung’s not himself.”

You frowned, your skepticism evident. “I’m aware of that. Thanks for pointing out the obvious.”

“No, you don’t get it.” She leaned in, her expression serious. “He’s not himself because he’s under the influence of Amortentia.”

The words hit you like a slap, leaving you momentarily speechless. “What?”

She nodded, her voice urgent now. “That girl—Yoonhee—she’s been dosing him with Amortentia for weeks. That’s why he’s been acting so different.”

Your heart raced as you processed her words, disbelief swirling in your mind. “You’re lying,” you said, your voice trembling. “Why would she do that?”

The Slytherin girl let out a humorless laugh. “Why do you think? She wanted him, and she didn’t care how she got him. But it’s not just about making him fall for her. She’s using the potion to influence him, to turn him into someone else. She’s controlling him, and you’ve seen the result.”

Your mind reeled as the pieces began to fall into place. The sudden change in Heeseung’s personality, the cruelty, the way he’d dismissed you so coldly—all of it made a sick kind of sense now.

“She’s dangerous,” the girl continued. “And if someone doesn’t stop her, Heeseung’s going to be completely lost.”

You stared at her, your emotions a whirlwind of anger, confusion, and disbelief. “Why are you telling me this?”

She hesitated, guilt flashing in her eyes. “Because it’s wrong. I thought about staying out of it, but Heeseung doesn’t deserve this. And... neither do you.”

Your fists clenched at your sides as rage surged through you. The betrayal you had felt from Heeseung was now redirected toward Yoonhee, the girl who had manipulated him, stolen his free will, and shattered your heart in the process.

If this was true, then Yoonhee had taken everything from you—and from him.

You took a deep breath, meeting the girl’s gaze. “How do I stop her?”

The Slytherin girl’s lips pressed into a thin line before she said, “I’ll help you, but we have to act fast. The longer she keeps him under her control, the harder it’ll be to break him free.”

You suddenly narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms. “And how do I know I can trust you?”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “Look, I get why you’d be suspicious, but I don’t have anything to gain from this. I’m only telling you because…” She hesitated, looking almost embarrassed before continuing. “Because I’ve seen how Heeseung was with you. And then I’ve seen him with Yoonhee. And it’s not the same.”

Her voice softened as she spoke, her gaze meeting yours. “What you and Heeseung had—it was real. It was... cute, even. He was different when he was with you. Like he couldn’t stop looking at you, like you were the only thing that mattered. I swear, he practically had hearts in his eyes whenever you were around.”

Your heart clenched at her words, the image of Heeseung’s affectionate smile flashing in your mind.

“But with Yoonhee?” she continued, her tone sharp. “It’s fake. Everything about it feels wrong. He doesn’t look at her the way he looked at you. There’s no warmth, no care. It’s like... like he’s just going through the motions, like a puppet on strings. And the way she parades him around, acting like she owns him—it’s sick.”

Her voice grew quieter, tinged with guilt. “I should have said something sooner. I should’ve stopped it when I first realized what she was doing. But I didn’t, and now things have gone too far. I just... I couldn’t keep watching it anymore.”

You studied her face, searching for any sign of deception, but all you saw was genuine regret.

“You really think what we had was real?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded firmly. “I know it was. Anyone with eyes could see it. Heeseung doesn’t look at anyone the way he looked at you. And if you still care about him, even after everything, then you need to help him. Because what Yoonhee’s doing? It’s not love. It’s control. And it’s destroying him.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “Okay. I’ll help. But if this turns out to be some kind of trick…”

“It’s not,” she said quickly, her eyes steady and resolute. “I promise.”

“Good,” you said, squaring your shoulders. “Because if she thinks she can get away with this, she’s dead wrong.”

After speaking with Hyejin who had revealed everything—you went straight to the library, your mind set on one thing: finding an antidote to Amortentia.

You scoured the shelves, your fingers brushing over the spines of dusty Potions books, each title longer and more complicated than the last. "Advanced Alchemical Properties of Magical Infusions," "The Elusive Art of Potionmaking," "Rare Remedies and Their Applications"—none of them seemed to promise the straightforward answers you were hoping for.

Potions had never been your strong suit, and as you flipped through yet another heavy tome filled with convoluted instructions and obscure ingredients, you groaned in frustration.

Why did Potions have to be so complicated? Couldn’t it be more like Herbology—straightforward, clear, and easy to follow? You were confident you could have whipped up a solution in no time if that were the case. But instead, you were drowning in endless jargon about precise stirring techniques, moon phase timings, and ingredient substitutions.

And the worst part? Heeseung had always been the one to help you when Potions overwhelmed you. His natural skill in the subject had been your saving grace more times than you could count, and the irony wasn’t lost on you that now, when you needed help the most, he was the one you were trying to save.

After what felt like hours of fruitless searching, you let out another groan, slamming the book in front of you shut. “Why are there so many books on Potions?” you muttered under your breath. “Why can’t this be simple? Just a page with ‘Amortentia antidote’ in big bold letters—how hard would that be?”

You stared at the pile of books in front of you, exhaustion creeping in as you realized just how out of your depth you were. You needed help, and you needed it fast. But who could you turn to? Heeseung was out of the question, and you didn’t trust Hyejin enough to rely on her completely.

You racked your brain, thinking of anyone who might have the skill and knowledge to guide you. Your mind flashed to someone unexpected—someone you hadn’t considered at first but who might be your best shot.

Professor Slughorn.

He wasn’t exactly your favorite teacher, but he was an expert in Potions, and if anyone could point you in the right direction, it was him. The problem was convincing him to help without spilling the entire truth. After all, you couldn’t exactly admit that a student was brewing and using Amortentia without risking expulsion for everyone involved.

Still, you didn’t have many options. If you couldn’t find the answer here, then you’d have to take the risk and ask for guidance.

You were just about to leave the library, your mind still swirling with frustration, when you collided with someone. The impact sent you stumbling back a step, your bag nearly slipping from your shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry about that!” you said quickly, steadying yourself.

“No, no, it’s my fault,” the other person replied, their voice warm and apologetic.

When you looked up, you were surprised to find yourself face-to-face with Myung Jaehyun, a Gryffindor student. You didn’t know him particularly well, but you knew of him—he had a reputation for excelling in Potions, often earning praise from Professor Slughorn.

The proverbial light bulb practically lit up over your head as an idea struck you. Jaehyun could help.

You smiled, stepping closer to him, which made Jaehyun’s cheeks flush slightly. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze for a moment. “Um... something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” you said, your tone light and friendly. “Actually, I was just thinking... you’re good at Potions, right?”

He nodded. “I guess? I mean, yeah, I’ve always done well in class. Why?”

“Well,” you said slowly, leaning in slightly, “I was wondering if you could help me with something. It’s just a tiny matter, really.”

Jaehyun blinked, clearly intrigued. “Uh, sure. What do you need?”

“I’m looking for a book,” you explained. “One that has information about antidotes for Amortentia.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Amortentia?”

You nodded, trying to keep your expression casual. “Yeah. I, uh... just need to look up something for a project.”

Jaehyun seemed to consider this for a moment before his face lit up. “Oh! I know exactly what you need.” He walked over to a nearby shelf, scanning the rows of books with practiced ease before pulling one out. He handed it to you, flipping it open to the right chapter. “Here. Chapter 14, page 237. It has a detailed section on love potions.”

You took the book from him, relief flooding through you. “Thank you so much, Jaehyun. This is exactly what I needed.”

Jaehyun hesitated for a moment, then cleared his throat. “If you want... I could help you with the brewing process. It’s tricky, and, well, I’ve done similar antidotes before.”

You practically jumped at the offer, your enthusiasm catching him off guard. “Really? You’d help me?”

“Of course,” he said, smiling shyly. “When do you want to start?”

“As soon as possible,” you said quickly. “This is kind of... urgent.”

“Alright,” Jaehyun agreed, his smile growing more confident. “Let’s meet in the Potions classroom after dinner. I’ll bring the ingredients we’ll need.”

You nodded, clutching the book tightly. “Thank you, Jaehyun. Really. You’re a lifesaver.”

He rubbed the back of his neck again, his blush returning. “It’s no problem. I’m happy to help.”

With a grateful smile, you hurried out of the library. You finally had a plan—and someone to help you execute it.

After dinner, you made your way to the Potions classroom, your nerves buzzing. As you stepped inside, you saw Jaehyun already at one of the workbenches, his sleeves rolled up and his hands deftly working.

When he noticed you, he offered a small smile and gestured for you to sit next to him.

“You’re early,” you said, setting your bag down on the bench.

“Wanted to get a head start,” Jaehyun replied, his voice warm. “I figured the quicker we get this done, the better.”

You nodded, settling into the chair beside him. As you looked around the dimly lit classroom, a thought occurred to you. “Is it even okay for us to be here after class hours?”

Jaehyun chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t worry. Professor Slughorn lets me stay after hours pretty often. He says it’s good-spirited of me to practice brewing and experiment.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Good-spirited, huh? That’s... surprisingly nice of him.”

Jaehyun shrugged, still focused on grinding the ingredients in front of him. “He’s not so bad. As long as you don’t blow up the classroom, he’s pretty lenient.”

You laughed lightly at that, feeling a bit of the tension in your chest ease. As Jaehyun began measuring out a vial of liquid and carefully adding it to the cauldron, you watched him work.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked, not wanting to just sit idly.

He glanced at you, his eyes crinkling slightly in a smile. “Sure. Can you chop those gurdyroots? They need to be sliced thinly—about this size.” He held up a perfectly cut piece as an example.

“Got it,” you said, grabbing a knife and the roots. You carefully started cutting, doing your best to match the size Jaehyun had shown you.

Occasionally, Jaehyun would give you instructions or correct something you were doing, his tone always patient and encouraging.

“You’re doing great,” he said at one point, glancing over at your neatly sliced gurdyroots. “I might have to recruit you as my brewing partner from now on.”

You snorted. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself. Potions and I have a... complicated relationship.”

Jaehyun laughed, his warm, boyish chuckle filling the room. “Well, you’re doing fine tonight. Just keep that up.”

The antidote was slowly coming together, the cauldron emitting a faint shimmer as the ingredients combined.

“Do you think this will work?” you asked softly after a while, watching the potion swirl in the cauldron.

Jaehyun looked at you, his expression serious yet kind. “If we follow the instructions exactly, it should. Potions like this are tricky, but I’m confident we can pull it off. And if something goes wrong, we’ll try again.”

His reassurance eased some of your worry, and you nodded. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I mean it. You didn’t have to help me, but you are.”

He shrugged modestly, his cheeks tinged pink. “It’s nothing. Besides, it’s kind of nice working on something like this with someone else for a change.”

You smiled at that, feeling a bit lighter for the first time in days.

After some time the potion was finally done. The cauldron shimmered with a silvery glow, and Jaehyun carefully ladled some of the antidote into a small flask. He corked it tightly and handed it to you, his smile warm but cautious.

“Here,” he said, placing it gently in your hands.

You stared at the flask, relief flooding through you. “Thank you, Jaehyun,” you said, looking up at him with a grateful smile. Without thinking, you leaned in and hugged him tightly.

Jaehyun stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but quickly relaxed and awkwardly patted your back. “You don’t have to thank me. Really.”

“I do,” you said, pulling back and clutching the flask to your chest. “I owe you one. Big time.”

Before he could respond, you turned and hurried out of the classroom, determination burning in your chest.

The Great Hall was buzzing with the usual hum of students talking and studying. You scanned the room until your eyes landed on Hyejin, sitting at a corner table with books and parchment spread out in front of her. She looked like she was drowning in notes, a quill tucked behind her ear as she scribbled furiously.

You approached her, sliding into the seat across from her. She glanced up, her brow furrowed in confusion until she saw the flask in your hand.

“You’ve got it?” she asked, her eyes widening slightly.

You nodded, setting the flask on the table between you. “I’ve got the solution. Literally.”

Hyejin’s tense expression softened, and she let out a small sigh of relief. “That’s good. Really good.”

You noticed her Herbology textbook then, along with her chaotic notes. The scribbled diagrams of plants and ingredients were barely legible, and she had several crossed-out answers on her parchment. She caught you looking and groaned, slumping back in her chair.

“Don’t judge me. Herbology is not my strong suit,” she muttered, rubbing her temples.

“Do you need help?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hyejin gave a humorless laugh. “Desperately. Professor Sprout’s quizzes are impossible, and if I don’t pass the next one, I’m doomed.”

Smiling, you reached into your bag and pulled out your own Herbology notes. “Here. These might help.”

Her eyes widened as she saw the neat, color-coded pages you laid in front of her. “Oh my God, you’re an angel,” she said dramatically, grabbing them like they were a lifeline.

You laughed, leaning over to point out some of the key points. “Okay, this section on Venomous Tentacula—just remember that its sap is only dangerous when exposed to direct sunlight. Write that down.”

“Thank you,” Hyejin said softly after a while, looking up from her notes. “For this. And... for everything else.”

“You’ve already done plenty to help me,” you replied with a small smile. “It’s the least I can do.”

The next day, you sat on your bed, nervously fiddling with the hem of your robes. The weight of what was about to happen pressed heavily on your chest. You had given the antidote to Hyejin that morning, entrusting her with the task of breaking the spell that had bound Heeseung to Yoonhee. She’d reassured you with a confident smile that she could slip the potion into his drink during lunch, all without raising suspicion.

You could have been there yourself to witness it. You could have stood nearby, watching from the shadows to make sure everything went as planned. But the truth was, you were scared—terrified, even.

You couldn’t face Heeseung. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. What if the antidote didn’t work? What if he still didn’t feel anything for you, even after the spell was broken? What if... what if he hated you?

The thoughts spiraled in your mind as you sat there, staring at the wall of your dormitory. You felt ridiculous for being so anxious, but the idea of seeing him again, of looking into his eyes and not knowing what you’d find there, was almost too much to bear.

So you’d chosen to wait. To stay here, in the safety of your room, and let Hyejin handle it. She’d promised to relay everything to you afterward, and you trusted her.

A soft knock at the door startled you out of your thoughts.

“It’s just me,” your roommate said, poking her head inside. “You okay? You’ve been in here all morning.”

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just... not feeling great today. I think I’ll skip lunch.”

She gave you a sympathetic look before leaving, and you sighed in relief once the door closed again.

The waiting was unbearable. Minutes felt like hours as you sat there, your mind playing out every possible scenario. You tried to distract yourself by flipping through a book, but the words blurred together on the page.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, there was a knock at the door again—this time more urgent.

You jumped up, your heart racing as you opened it to find Hyejin standing there, slightly out of breath.

“It’s done,” she said simply, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

You stared at her, your throat suddenly dry. “And? Did it work?”

Hyejin nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It worked. I saw it in his eyes the moment the potion broke. Heeseung... he looked so confused at first, like he didn’t know where he was or what was happening. But then Yoonhee tried to cling to him, and he pushed her away.”

Your breath hitched. “He did?”

“Yeah. And he asked her what she’d done to him. She tried to play innocent, but you could tell she was panicking. I don’t think anyone else noticed—it wasn’t exactly a scene—but Heeseung wasn’t buying her act. He left pretty quickly after that, though. I think he needed time to process everything.”

You sank back onto your bed, your mind reeling. Relief, hope, and dread all swirled together in your chest. Heeseung was free. He was finally free.

But now what?

Hyejin sat beside you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Give him some time,” she said softly, as if reading your thoughts. “He’s going to come looking for you. I’m sure of it.”

You nodded, your hands trembling slightly as you gripped the edge of your bed. All you could do now was wait—and hope that when Heeseung finally found you, the boy you’d fallen for was still there, waiting for you too.

You didn’t leave your room for days. The sick, uncomfortable feeling in your body refused to go away. It was as if the weight of everything—your heartbreak, the fear—had finally caught up to you, pinning you to your bed and draining you of energy.

Your housemates noticed. They brought you food, their class notes, and even small trinkets to cheer you up, but nothing seemed to work. You mumbled thanks to them, forced weak smiles when they tried to joke, but the truth was, you felt numb.

Hyejin came by often, sitting on the edge of your bed and filling you in on everything happening outside the confines of your room.

“Yoonhee got caught,” she said one afternoon, her tone tinged with satisfaction. “Slughorn found out she’d been brewing Amortentia, and she’s been given detention for weeks. There’s even talk about revoking her Hogsmeade privileges for the rest of the year.”

You managed a faint smile at that. “Good. She deserves it.”

Hyejin nodded firmly. “She does. And honestly, people are starting to avoid her now. Her little group of friends isn’t as tight as it used to be. Guess that’s what happens when everyone finds out you’ve been manipulating someone with a love potion.”

Your smile faded as the conversation shifted to Heeseung.

“And... Heeseung,” Hyejin started carefully, watching your reaction. “He’s been... different.”

You stiffened slightly but said nothing, letting her continue.

“He’s been asking about you. Like, constantly. He’s desperate to find you. I think he’s even checked the library three times in one day,” she said with a small laugh, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “He’s back to being... well, himself. But he looks miserable, and honestly, he’s really worried about you.”

Your chest tightened. You wanted to feel relieved, but instead, the sick feeling only deepened. You hated how much you still cared, how even hearing about Heeseung made your heart twist painfully.

“I don’t know, Hyejin,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “I just… I can’t see him right now.”

Hyejin sighed softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “I get it. I do. Take all the time you need. Just... don’t shut yourself out completely, okay?”

You didn’t respond, simply looking down at your blanket as Hyejin stayed with you a little longer.

It wasn’t until one evening, when the common room was quiet and your dorm was empty, that you finally let yourself cry. The frustration, the sadness, the guilt—it all poured out of you in heavy, silent sobs as you clutched your pillow.

You were happy Yoonhee had faced punishment. You were relieved that Heeseung was free from her influence. But you were also scared—scared of facing him, scared of what he would say, and scared of how much you still loved him, even after everything.

Before you knew it, the day of the annual Christmas Ball at Hogwarts had arrived. Normally, you would’ve been excited. Your mother had even sent you a beautiful golden gown, one that shimmered like sunlight when you first pulled it out of the box. You’d twirled in front of the mirror, imagining how the soft fabric would float around you as you danced.

But now? Now you had lost all reason to go.

The thought of attending made your stomach churn. The idea of walking into that grand hall, of possibly running into him—it was too much.

Unfortunately, your housemates had other plans. They weren’t about to let you stay locked up in your dorm forever, wallowing in shame and fear. After days of patient encouragement, they finally pulled you out of bed, insisting you at least attend a few classes. Begrudgingly, you relented, figuring it would stop their nagging if nothing else.

The morning started off easy enough. You didn’t have any classes with Heeseung today, which gave you some peace of mind. Still, you couldn’t shake the paranoia that he might show up out of nowhere.

And, honestly, that paranoia wasn’t entirely unfounded.

It was as if Heeseung had a built-in radar for you. More than once, you caught a glimpse of his dark hair in the corridors, his eyes scanning the crowds as if he were searching for someone. For you.

Every time, you ducked behind corners or slipped into empty classrooms to avoid him. It was harder than you expected, given his persistence. You had to wonder if he’d memorized your schedule or something.

By the time your last class ended, you were exhausted—not from the lessons, but from all the hiding and running. You slumped into your seat at dinner, barely touching your food as your housemates chattered excitedly about the ball.

“You’re still coming tonight, right?” one of them asked, nudging your shoulder.

You hesitated. “I don’t know...”

“Oh, come on,” another chimed in. “Your mom sent you that gorgeous dress! You have to go.”

You sighed, poking at the mashed potatoes on your plate. “I’ll think about it.”

But even as you said it, you doubted you’d actually go.

As the evening drew closer, you found yourself back in your dorm, staring at the golden gown hanging from your wardrobe. It truly was stunning, the kind of dress you’d dreamed of wearing to an event like this.

For a moment, you almost let yourself imagine it—dancing under the enchanted ceiling, laughter and music filling the air.

You shook your head, turning away from the dress. You weren’t ready for that.

Just as you were about to crawl back into bed, however, your dormitory door burst open, and your housemates barged in with determined looks.

“Nope, we’re not letting you sit this one out,” one of them declared, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet.

“What are you—”

“Listen,” another interrupted, “you don’t have to stay the whole night. Just come for a little bit. Wear the dress, take a few pictures, and if you’re really miserable, you can leave. Deal?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the hopeful, pleading looks on their faces stopped you. They just wanted you to have fun, to feel normal again, even if only for a little while.

“...Fine,” you muttered, earning cheers from the group.

Before you knew it, they were helping you into the golden gown, fixing your hair and makeup, and hyping you up like you were royalty.

“You look amazing,” one of them said, beaming as they adjusted the final curl in your hair.

You didn’t feel amazing, but you forced a small smile.

Your housemates dragged you down the corridors toward the grand hall, their excitement became contagious. Despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself starting to feel... a little excited, too.

When you finally stepped into the grand hall, your breath hitched. The space was utterly transformed, shimmering with holiday magic. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the enchanted ceiling, disappearing just before they touched the ground. The chandeliers sparkled like stars, and the tables were adorned with golden centerpieces. Everything looked like it had been plucked from a dream.

But then you saw him.

Heeseung.

He was standing near one of the refreshment tables, laughing softly at something a fellow Slytherin said. Emerald green suit, tailored to perfection. His hair, slicked back, revealed his sharp jawline and those intense eyes. But as your gaze lingered on him, you noticed something else—he looked tired.

It wasn’t until he glanced your way and his eyes locked onto yours that you realized you’d been staring.

Your heart jumped in your chest, and before you could even think about turning away, he was moving. Heeseung’s long strides cut through the crowd like a magnet pulled him toward you.

“Oh no,” you squeaked, panic bubbling in your chest.

You instinctively turned to your friends for help, but all you saw were their grinning faces and two very obvious thumbs up.

Ah, so they planned this.

You shot them a silent glare, but before you could even consider fleeing, a firm hand grabbed yours. Heeseung’s grip was gentle but insistent as he pulled you away.

“H-Heeseung—!” you started, but he wasn’t listening.

He didn’t stop until he’d guided you to a quiet corner of the hall, away from the prying eyes of your fellow students. The noise of the ball faded into the background as he turned to face you, his hands still holding yours.

Your breath caught.

Up close, he looked even more handsome, but those tired eyes, paired with the slight downturn of his lips, made your chest ache. He looked... vulnerable.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. He just stared at you, taking in every detail—the golden gown that hugged your figure, the way your hair framed your face, the faint shimmer of your lips.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly, his voice hoarse, almost as if he hadn’t used it in days.

You blinked, momentarily stunned. You weren’t sure how to respond, your thoughts still scrambling to catch up with the fact that he was here, holding your hands, looking at you like that.

Finally, you managed to mumble, “You look... good too.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up into a small, tired smile. “Thanks,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.

Heeseung’s gaze softened as he opened his mouth to speak. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. For—”

You cut him off, shaking your head. “No, Heeseung. Stop. It wasn’t your fault. It was Yoonhee’s. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

He blinked, stunned by your words, but his expression quickly shifted to one of concern. “Then... why?” he asked softly, his voice trembling. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

You looked down, biting your lip, unable to meet his gaze. But he wasn’t having it.

Gently, he tilted your chin up with his fingers, forcing your eyes to lock with his. His touch was soft but firm, his eyes desperate. “Please,” he murmured, his voice low and pleading. “Please look at me, Y/N. I need to see you. All of you. I need to understand.”

You swallowed hard, his intensity making it difficult to breathe. Your heart pounded in your chest as you searched for the right words.

“I...” You hesitated, but his unwavering gaze gave you the courage to continue. “I was scared, Heeseung. Scared that... you wouldn’t like me anymore. That whatever we had before was gone. And it hurt. It hurt so much that I didn’t know how to face you. I felt so... drained. So tired. I had no energy for anything. It was like everything good was just gone.”

He listened intently, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek as tears spilled from your eyes. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to justify anything. He just... listened. Like he always did.

When you finally finished, a silence hung between you, heavy.

And then, without warning, Heeseung wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest.

You froze for a moment, startled, before slowly relaxing into his embrace. His scent—familiar and comforting—washed over you, and you felt like you could breathe again.

“Baby...” he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I would have waited forever for you to feel okay again. Because you’re the only woman I love in this world. The only one I’ve ever loved. And nothing—nothing��is ever going to change that.”

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, the sincerity in his tone breaking down the walls you’d built around your heart.

“I want a future with you,” he continued, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His hands framed your face, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that had fallen. “I don’t care about anyone else. I never did. It’s always been you. Always.”

His words left you speechless, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“I love you,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if I have to.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you nodded, a shaky smile breaking through. “I love you too, Heeseung,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Heeseung’s lips curved into a soft smile, his eyes glistening with relief and adoration. Without another word, he leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the gap between you, meeting him halfway as his lips pressed against yours in a kiss.

Your heart raced as your hands instinctively reaching up to grip the front of his emerald green suit. His arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer, like he was afraid to let you go. The kiss was slow, deliberate, as if he was reassuring you that this was real, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you breathless, his forehead rested against yours. Heeseung’s smile widened, his thumbs gently rubbing circles against your sides.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection. “And I’ll never stop, as long as you let me.”

You laughed softly, your cheeks warming as you looked up at him. “You’re so dramatic,” you teased, though your tone held no malice.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a playful smirk, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

But before either of you could say anything more, a loud burst of laughter echoed from the main hall, reminding you both that you weren’t exactly in a private setting.

Heeseung chuckled, glancing over his shoulder before looking back at you. “Come on,” he said, grabbing your hand. “Let’s go somewhere quieter. I’m not done with you yet.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking up. “Oh? And where exactly are we going?”

He grinned mischievously, tugging you gently along. “You’ll see,” he said, his tone light and teasing.

Heeseung led you through the dimly lit corridors, weaving between tapestries and statues until you reached a secluded alcove. It was quiet, away from the bustling energy of the Great Hall, and the faint sound of music and laughter felt like it was miles away.

Leaning casually against the stone wall, Heeseung tugged you closer by your hand, his other arm snaking around your waist as he grinned down at you. “Now this,” he murmured, “is more like it.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling a bit giddy as he twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers. The way he looked at you, like you were the only person who mattered, sent your heart racing.

Before you could respond, you found yourself leaning up, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that was soft at first, but quickly deepened. His hand tightened on your hip as he pulled you flush against him, and you reached up, tangling your fingers into his perfectly styled hair, making it deliciously messy.

Heeseung groaned softly against your lips, the sound sending a thrill through you as his hand slid to the small of your back, holding you steady. The kiss was everything—intense, like he was making up for all the lost time, for all the days you’d been apart.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless and slightly disheveled, he let out a low chuckle. “There goes my hair,” he teased, his voice husky as he glanced at you, his lips still red from your kiss.

You smirked, smoothing down the strands you’d mussed up. “I think it looks better this way,” you quipped, earning a playful roll of his eyes.

“Yeah?” he said, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Well, if it makes you happy, I guess I’ll allow it.”

Heeseung's playful nature shone through as he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I could get used to this," he whispered, his breath warm and tickling against your skin. "You looking all beautiful and mussed up."

You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement at his words. "Well, if you like it, I might just keep it this way," you replied, a hint of challenge in your voice. "Although, I think I might enjoy seeing the look on your face if I went back to being perfectly put together."

With a playful roll of his eyes, Heeseung leaned in again, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. But this time, his hands went to your dress, his fingers trailing along the neckline, subtly revealing more of your skin.

You giggled into the kiss, a sound of both pleasure and surprise. "Naughty boy," you teased, trying to hit his hand away, but Heeseung was unmoved, his focus solely on you and the kiss.

His hands continued to tease, gently tugging at the fabric of your dress, revealing more of your shoulders and collarbone.

"You know I can't resist you," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and seductive. "Especially when you look like this."

"I know you can't," you replied, your voice soft and filled with affection. "And I'm glad I have this effect on you." You could feel his fingers trace the curve of your waist.

Heeseung's eyes lit up as he saw the skin that had been revealed. With a smile that held both mischief and anticipation, he leaned in, his lips grazing the newly exposed skin.

He started with soft kisses, his lips brushing against your neck, his breath warm and enticing, a gentle tease, tracing the curve of your collarbone.

"You smell so good," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Like honey and spice."

His hands rested gently on your waist, his touch firm, as if you were something delicate he couldn’t risk breaking.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper as his lips pressed a lingering kiss to the base of your neck. “Do you know that?”

His words made your cheeks flush, and you shook your head slightly, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. “I’m not—”

“You are,” he interrupted, his tone so sure that it silenced any protest you could muster. His lips returned to your skin, brushing over your shoulder where the fabric of your gown had slipped just slightly.

“I could do this forever,” he whispered against your skin, his voice carrying a hint of a smile. “Just... adore you.”

You shivered at his words, warmth pooling in your chest as you gazed at him. There was nothing rushed or impatient about him—just pure affection, as though he was savoring every moment with you.

“You’re impossible,” you mumbled, but the smile on your face betrayed the teasing edge in your voice.

Heeseung looked at you then, his dark eyes filled with so much love it made your breath catch. “And yet, here I am, completely yours,” he said with a boyish grin, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, making you laugh softly.

A sudden scream sliced through the moment, making you both freeze. You turned to find Yoonhee standing in the hallway, her eyes blazing with rage, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, hatred radiating from every inch of her.

You quickly adjusted the straps of your dress, feeling a flush of embarrassment but finding comfort in the way Heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

"Yoonhee," Heeseung said, his voice calm but firm, his body still shielding you. "What are you doing here?"

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the stone floor as she walked toward you. "You," she spat, her voice seething with venom. "You ruined everything. You always ruin everything."

The words stung more than you expected, and you felt yourself shrinking back, but Heeseung’s grip tightened around you, giving you strength.

"If you didn`t exist," she continued, her voice rising. "Everything would have been perfect. Heeseung would have been mine. I would have had everything I wanted."

You shook your head, unable to comprehend the depth of her bitterness. "Yoonhee, What are—"

But she wasn’t listening. Her gaze never left you, her eyes full of hatred as she took another step toward you. "You don't deserve him. You’re not good enough. You’re nothing compared to me."

Heeseung, his expression hardening, finally stepped in to talk. "Enough, Yoonhee."

Her glare shifted to him, but there was no remorse in her eyes. Instead, she let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, really? You think you can just shut me up?" She turned back to you, her face twisted with anger. "You think you can steal him from me and everything will be fine? You don’t know him like I do."

You swallowed, your throat tightening at her words, but Heeseung’s presence kept you steady. His voice, low and firm, cut through her words. "You’re wrong, Yoonhee. You’ve always been wrong. This isn’t about you, and it never was. I’m with her because I want to be. You’re the one who needs to let go."

For a moment, there was silence, the tension thick between the three of you. Yoonhee stood there, fuming, but Heeseung didn’t flinch.

"You can’t do this, Heeseung," she hissed, her voice full of desperation now. "You don’t even know what you’re giving up. You think she cares about you? She’s just playing you like everyone else. She’s not even worthy of you."

Heeseung’s expression softened, but there was no uncertainty in his eyes. "You’re wrong, Yoonhee. She’s everything to me, and I’m not walking away from her."

Yoonhee’s shrill scream filled the room, and before anyone could react, she lunged at you. Her hands shot out, grabbing your arm and yanking you away from Heeseung with surprising strength. You stumbled back, her nails digging into your skin as she tried to shove you down. Her eyes were wild with fury, and for a moment, you froze, too stunned by the violence of her attack to respond.

But then, something inside you snapped. All the weeks of anger, hurt, and confusion flooded back. The betrayal, the humiliation, the endless nights of crying and wondering what went wrong—it all surged up at once. This was the girl who had stolen Heeseung right out of your life. The one who had used Amortentia to control him, to warp his feelings, to hurt you. The one who had made you feel small and insignificant.

No, you wouldn’t let her do this anymore.

With a fierce yell, you shoved her off, your fist flying instinctively. The punch connected with her cheek with a satisfying thud, the force sending her staggering backward. Her eyes widened in shock, hand flying to her face as she stumbled and almost fell to the ground.

Yoonhee gaped at you, her breath coming in short, furious gasps. "You... You bitch!" she snarled, voice shaking with rage.

But you stood your ground, heart racing, every ounce of your being wanting to scream and lash out. You felt the heat of your own anger, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You weren’t backing down anymore. "No," you said, your voice trembling but fierce, "you don't get to do this. You don't get to ruin everything for me and Heeseung. You don’t get to play with people’s feelings."

Yoonhee glared at you, hands trembling with fury. "You think you’ve won, don’t you?" Her voice was a low hiss. "You really think he’s yours? He’s not. He’ll always come back to me."

Heeseung stepped forward, voice cutting through the tension. "You’re done. I’ve told you before. I’m with her, not you."

Yoonhee looked between the two of you, her face flushing red with humiliation. The silence that followed was deafening. She was seething, but there was no more fight left in her. She stood there for a moment, glaring at you, and then, with a final look of disdain, she turned on her heel and stormed away.

You let out a breath, feeling your body go limp, the tension draining from your limbs. Heeseung moved towards you immediately, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, his voice soft and concerned.

You nodded slowly, though your heart was still racing from the confrontation. "I’m okay," you whispered, your voice hoarse. "I just... I don’t know what came over me."

Heeseung pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands and looking into your eyes. "You did what you had to do," he said gently. "You’ve been through so much because of her."

"And besides I like seeing that side of you," he said, his voice warm and genuine. "The way you stood up for yourself."

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth fill your chest at his words.

"I’m proud of you," he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You held him tighter, feeling grateful for everything that had brought you to this point. "I love you," you whispered.

"I love you too," he replied.

a/n: i feel emotional now

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yanderenightmare · 5 months ago

Text

Gojo Satoru

TW: yandere, kidnapping, captive reader, noncon, somnophilia

follow up to this part one

gn reader

Yeah, he kidnaps you within the same day…

He knows it isn’t inherently right, but he can justify it! You see, if anyone else were to find out your technique, you’d be in a lot of trouble—and by trouble, he means certain death or worse.

You’re a paradox. If he’d reported his find to the elders, they’d surely have sent assassins, given how terrified they are of the unknown—and you’re worse than an unknown—you’re a threat to jujutsu’s very foundation. He wouldn’t be surprised if they’d make weapons out of your body until nothing was left of you—just think about it—a bullet made from your flesh would have the instant power to disintegrate a curse on the spot. Or worse, they’d keep you alive and locked up somewhere, feeding you only to drain you of a dozen blood bags per day—like a farm.

Yes, this was better for you—with no one knowing of your existence except him. He’s the only one who can keep you safe.

Of course, you think he’s crazy. And he doesn’t blame you. You were just abducted by a stranger in the streets who not only insists that you’re an anomaly but wears a blindfold and claims to be a wizard out to protect you from people who would harvest your blood. Yeah, he wouldn’t believe him either.

The whole situation is messy, but at least you’re alive.

He gives you your own room. Of course, he’s not out to make you uncomfortable. You have your own room, bed, and bathroom, which is where you spend most of your time.

He can’t blame you for that, either. He won’t force you to spend time with him even though he wants to. But he’s not entirely innocent either—watching you through the cameras in the ceiling. It’s funny, but even on tape, you’re crystal clear. It’s calming to watch. Everything else makes his eyes hurt, hence the blindfold—but even that is but a dull salve. You’re the cure.

You warm up to him after a month or so. You come out of your room. He can tell you’re looking for weak spots to escape from, but you won’t find any. He’s gotten better at reading you now—having busied himself learning the language of your body looking at you without your knowledge. He only feels slightly guilty about it.

He can’t stop thinking about touching you, though. It really doesn’t have to be much—he’s never really been much of a playboy, despite people’s assumptions. Women and men have never been all that appealing when what he sees is everything they’re trying to hide. Though he has tried it a few times, he usually just takes care of it on his own if he needs to.

He's needed to a lot in the past weeks. But he promises himself he won’t force you into anything. That wouldn’t be fair.

You start talking to him another month later—actual conversations aside from the usual swearing or claims to let you go. No, you begin asking questions about the jujutsu world. He can’t tell if it’s because you’re curious or seeking information that might aid in your escape or if it’s simply a ploy to lower his guard, but it’s clear you still think he’s delusional. Either way, he doesn’t mind humoring you. He even tries demonstrating limitless for you, holding different objects as well as himself midair—but you seem convinced he’s just some talented crook. You’ve seen more compelling magic acts before, you say. He laughs.

He'd show you something more convincing, but you can’t see cursed spirits even with special glasses as the curse imbued into the lenses disrupts the moment you put them on, so to you, it’s the same as wearing fakes. In a way, curses don’t exist in your world. He’s tested it out a few times—simple flyheads, just to see what happens, and wow… It’s actually kind of scary how they just crumble upon contact with you—no residuals or anything left to prove that they were ever even there.

The only way to prove it to you would be to let someone else get mangled in front of you. Of course, it would only look like a body getting warped beyond recognition by the air—but he’s sure at that point, you’d no longer be able to assign normal logic to it. Not that he’s going to do any of that. He doesn’t really need you to believe him after all. It wouldn’t change anything. In fact, he prefers you don’t know. The jujutsu world is an ugly one—he doesn’t mind sheltering you from it.

Another four months in, and you’ve gotten comfortable. Well, it’s been half a year, so it’s taken its time, but still, he’s happy to have gotten there. You’re at the point where you ask him for things unrestricted—hobby stuff like books and paints and groceries.

You’d taken to baking and cooking rather early on, which was great as his kitchen was practically in pristine and unused condition. He can’t blame you for growing tired of his unhealthy food habits—microwave dinners for the most part, other times leftovers he brings home from restaurants, otherwise just candy and pastries. You’d refused to make him anything in the start, but you’d soon caved when you realized he could just as simply refuse to bring you the ingredients. You’re now the designated cook of the house. It’s cute, like having his own little housewife.

Your guard has also dropped. You no longer flinch away when he’s close. Not that he allows himself to touch you improperly—just a little—a few accidental rubs here and then, brushing along you in passing, blaming it on the blindfold even when he can hear your feet pad along the floors in the utter silent emptiness of his house. And other innocent things... laying his hand on your head when he reaches for a glass in the cupboard above you, telling you he wouldn’t want you to hit yourself—brushing your back with his chest and his crotch on your rear. It can’t hurt—it only barely touches and just for a few seconds.

It makes him feel like a filthy drug addict, though. Desperate for a fix, then only wanting more once it’s gone…

He’s been coming to your room to watch you sleep almost every night. You don’t know. You’d be more wary of him if you did. But no, you’re under the impression he’s just some poor, disillusioned man who’s otherwise harmless. You don’t know, and he aims to keep it that way.

It’s for your sake. Just the same as you don’t know curses exist, you needn’t know of the cursed thoughts simmering within his head either. So, he does it for you. To spare you.

That’s what he tells himself when watching you obliviously drink the crushed pills he’s been feeding you for the last many months.

He’d reached his breaking point much sooner than he thought—just after he swore against it, actually. Limiting himself only seemed to make him ever more in need of you. But it was to be expected—he’s never been too good at abiding by rules. He’s always felt above them—even those he sets upon himself.

He’s happy you’ve warmed up to him when you’re awake now, too, utterly unaware you’ve been more than accommodating in your sleep.

Of course, he feels bad! But what you don’t know won’t hurt you.

Besides... give or take a few more months, and you’re bound to invite him into your bed at some point. It’s only natural—humans require contact and will accept what’s available to them. He’s only early in taking what he knows you’d give him sooner or later anyway.

You have no way of knowing how long you sleep, no windows, no watch—no idea you sleep more than half a day every night—half of that time spent with him.

He’d only spooned you at first—his bare hands laid in reverence against your soft skin, reveling in your heat while cuddling into you. It had been nice, but ultimately not enough. He’d resorted to undressing after a while, lying there naked—but still, doing nothing but holding you—skin-to-skin. That, as well, had only been enough for a while—now keeping a hand on you while tugging himself in the other. It seems that every indulgence he allows himself only serves to make the need within grow deeper. You rivet his entire body ablaze like nothing else… and he has this undying feeling pounding in his chest and throughout his body, down to his throbbing dick, that being inside you is going to feel like nothing he's ever felt before.

And you're so cute down there—pretty on his fingers—welcoming. Kissing there makes his candy addiction go to waste. He’s convinced burying his face between your thighs is where he belongs. Right there, smothered in the warmth with your taste flooding his mouth. He could die happy.

And fuck if it doesn’t look like you need his cock inside you once he pulls away—spit-slicked, swollen, and fluttering for him—crying to be filled and fucked.

The little sounds you make as he enters you are the sweetest sounds he’s heard in his life—pretty little mews and sleepy moans as he fills you out until you’re neatly settled around his base and fuck—he’s already cumming, melting within the surrounding cloudy warmth.

It doesn’t stop him from remaining hard.

Dropping his weight atop of you, he smothers you like a duvet—bodies pressed perfectly against each other as he kisses every and any part of you he can reach, snapping his hips in short thrusts deep within—sucking your lip while sinking his fingers into the plume of your haunches, lapping up the spit from within your mouth like a well granting all his wishes.

He cleans you up after—wipes you down, and frets over the bruises left on you, hoping you won’t read too much into how sore you are. Leaving the crimescene just as it had been before, then kisses you good night.

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

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ellecdc · 6 months ago

Note

ive been thinking about stone-faced unamused independent reader and how james and barty would absolutely love to baby her and treat her like a princess and she has none of it..until shes feeling sort of down and like she needs their love and support so she gives in and theyre both so shocked and excited theyre like little dogs wagging their tails spinning around her

hiii....I'm back to apologizing to everyone who sent me in requests 2.5+ months ago for me to hoard them until inspiration struck! hope I did it justice hahaha

poly!darksun x black cat!reader and Sirius who just doesn't Get It

CW: fem!reader, reader is maybe a little mean but obviously James and Barty are into that shit, Sirius' POV so a very unreliable narrator

Sirius Black believed himself to be a pretty open-minded person.

He believed that love was love, he staunchly disagreed with blood status and had a lot of respect for muggle-borns, and believed in the fair treatment of beasts and other magical creatures in the Wizarding World.

But no matter how open-minded Sirius believed himself to be, he could not for the life of him figure out how in the hells James Potter and Barty Crouch Junior found their way to you.

Sirius admittedly had a hard enough time finding out that his best friend was dating his semi-estranged little brother’s maniacal (read: bat-shit crazy) best friend, but this?

This made no sense to him.

At least when it came to the likes of Barty Crouch Junior, James had found someone who could rival him in energy and enthusiasm. James could run for seven hours straight at a gods-honest sprint and Barty was just about crazy enough to try as well. Barty never denied his more intrusive thoughts and James was morbidly curious enough to watch those thoughts play out.

And both of them seemed to love hard; even if Sirius didn’t approve of that love, even if he didn’t like that love, he could admit that it, at the very least, made sense for him.

But where James was all golden retriever energy and Barty was some kind deranged, rabid mutt straight from the depths of hell, you….

Well, Sirius wasn’t sure exactly what you were.

Where James was sweet and Barty was enthusiastic, you were utterly unimpressed.

Where James was excitable and Barty was chaotic, you were completely apathetic.

And where James and Barty could be…slightly codependent, you seemed wholly disinterested in having either of them (or anyone for that matter) near you.

“Sod off; I can carry my own damned books.” You had spat at Barty as he tried to take them from you.

And Sirius had to stand there and watch both Barty and James stare after you with a lovesick look adorning their faces as you stalked away from them.

“Well isn’t she just a ray of sunshine?” Sirius muttered derisively, earning him a threatening glare from Barty and a frustrated stare from James.

“You’re one to talk, Pads; I watched Remus actually growl at a first year who tried to take the last pumpkin pastie at dinner last night.” He grumbled before redirecting Barty away from Sirius’ jugular.

And that seemed to be your response to pretty much anything those two did; you elbowed James in the stomach when he held the door open for you like a ‘poncy chauffeur’, you stomped on Barty’s foot when he offered you his elbow on the moving staircase, and you never seemed particularly pleased should they wind up in your vicinity.

Yet…

Yet you never made any effort to actually remove them from your vicinity, nor did you make any effort to leave theirs.

In fact, if Sirius wasn’t mistaken, he was sure he saw your shoulders relax ever so slightly when you realised the people pulling out the chair across from you in the library were James and Barty.

They tensed right back up when Sirius and Peter accompanied them, but that's besides the point.

No, you didn’t converse with any of them. Yes, you completely ignored any attempts at conversation from James or Barty - save taking the opportunity to correct them in their debate about their potions homework. And just once, Sirius was certain he’d heard you whisper a quiet thank you to Barty when he helped you find the page number for the answer to number 47 of your Herbology homework.

It seemed to Sirius that no matter how staunchly you refused to allow either boy to fawn over you, you weren’t completely averse to their company. And though this amount of dedication didn’t exactly surprise Sirius coming from James, seeing as he spent four and half years of his school life pursuing a completely disinterested witch, he was confused that Barty hadn’t gotten bored yet.

It was all very peculiar, Sirius thought.

Even more peculiar was when Barty and James had been snuggling in James’ bed as James quizzed Moony for the upcoming Alchemy test when there was a tentative knock on the dormitory door.

Peter looked up from his Ancient Runes homework to look at Sirius, James and Barty lifted their heads to look at Sirius, and Remus turned in his desk chair to look at Sirius.

“What?” Sirius asked. “I didn’t knock.”

“You’re the only one not currently doing anything.” Remus countered.

Sirius paused in his throwing and catching of James’ pilfered snitch to look at him incredulously.

“I am too doing something.” He argued, holding the snitch between his thumb and forefinger and waving it at him. “Besides, Junior’s just laying there.”

“I’m a guest, Black. It’d be terribly improper for me to answer your dormitory door.”

“Answer the sodding door, Sirius.” Remus grumbled as he turned back towards James.

“A ray of sunshine.” James sing-songed for Sirius’ benefit, clearly still not over his passing comment of you from days ago.

Sirius let out a dramatically petulant sigh as he stood to open the door.

Your face pinched when you saw who had answered, though Sirius had to hand it to you how quickly you corrected your expression.

Before you had a chance to tell Sirius why you were here, he looked back over his shoulder at James’ bed.

“See, I don’t think I should have to open the door for your bird!”

All that was heard was a painful sounding thump and James muttering “Barty, my glasses” before Barty materialised at the door.

“Hi Treasure!” He greeted enthusiastically.

Sirius watched your eyes narrow as you seemingly debated whether or not to make a fuss over his nickname before ultimately deciding against it.

“Angel!” James cheered as he, too, rounded the corner and shoved Sirius out of the way. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Sirius sat back down on his bed where he could see you consider your options carefully.

Finally, after having the two sods stand there no doubt smothering you in smiles and soft eyes did you look shyly down at your shoes. “Can I…hang out with you guys for the afternoon?” You asked quietly.

Barty and James exchanged a - quite comical, in Sirius’ opinion - excited look before returning their gazes to you. “Of course!” They chorused; the volume startling you into lifting your head to look at them nervously.

James cleared his throat and moved out of the door frame, ushering you in. “Of course you can.” He offered quieter this time, guiding you towards his bed as he looked over his shoulder and mouthed “oh my gods” at Barty who was eagerly following behind you.

“What have you been up to today?” James asked then, clearly wondering what motivated this impromptu and voluntary visit but not wanting to chance whatever spell had been cast to get you here.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, anxiously picking at your nail beds as each boy sat tentatively beside you.

“I was studying in the library…” You offered, sounding horribly robotic and rehearsed in your response before you let out a shuddering sigh. Sirius watched as you visibly deflated and leaned slightly closer into Barty’s side. “I’ve had a bit of a headache all day.” You admit.

James and Barty both coo in unison as James cautiously rubs circles on your back; you let him.

“You have a headache?” Sirius deadpanned from across the room. “And you came here? To these two? Are they not the source?”

“Get out.” Barty spat, braving himself as he tightened his arm around you; once again, you let him.

“You can’t kick me out of my own dorm room, Junior!” Sirius argued. “Why don’t you go to your dorm room?”

“Oh, do you want to know what your baby brother and Rosier were up to before I left? Because I’ll happily scar you with that knowledge, Black.” Barty threatened.

Sirius, who was not ashamed to admit he was perhaps more than slightly immature, simply covered his ears and started singing to drown out the sound of Barty’s voice.

“That’s it, everyone out.” James barked then; tone taking on an air of Gryffindor quidditch captain.

Remus scoffed indignantly at that as Peter - clearly the wisest of the bunch - simply began packing up his homework. “You promised to help me pass this test!”

“Oh for Salazar’s sake, Lupin; the answers are A, D, B, B, A, C, D, A, A, true, true, false, Nicholas Flammel.” Barty barked at him, causing Remus to blink owlishly at him.

“Fine.” Remus finally said as he stood, shocking Sirius into silence at his quick acquiescence to such abhorrent demands. “Let’s go, Sirius.”

Sirius, feeling awfully petulant, hurled the snitch towards James’ head who quickly and calmly caught it before offering it to you as Remus hauled him off the bed by his wrist and all but dragged him towards the door.

“But it’s not fair, Moony!” Sirius pouted as he slammed on the breaks just outside the threshold of their dorm room.

“Sirius.” Remus started solemnly. “How many times did you try to convince me to snuggle with you at night before we started dating?”

“217.” Sirius answered readily, relishing in the soft smile Remus had clearly tried and failed at fighting off.

“Right, 217 times you tried to convince me to snuggle with you; and how many of those times did I deny you?”

“216.”

“Right.” Remus agreed. “And what had James done to ensure that I would relent that one time?”

Sirius let out a pained sigh as he looked to the heavens. “He charmed his, Pete’s, and your bed to the ceiling so there was only one option.”

“Right.” Remus agreed again, softer this time as he rested his hand at the juncture of Sirius’ neck and shoulder and rubbed his thumb along the column of his throat. “So don’t you think the least we could do right now is just let them have the room?”

Sirius looked back into the room in time to see you smiling softly at something James was saying as Barty placed what appeared to be a wet cloth to the back of your neck; your eyes closing and face relaxing in relief, leaning back into Barty as James massaged your calves and carried on in his story.

“What did I do to deserve this?” Sirius whined then, leaning his head into his boyfriend’s chest as he watched you curl up, not unlike a cat who had finally decided to sit on its person’s lap.

“Can you maybe try to remind yourself that James deserves this?” Remus whispered into Sirius’ hair.

“For Godric’s sake, Moony.” Sirius grumbled as he stood and began storming off in the direction of the common room. “Why d’you have to be so bloody reasonable all of the time!?”

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sunnami · 6 months ago

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the (poly) marauders + lily as reversed tropes.

a/n: i tried moving to a new blog.. possibly got shadowbanned... that other blog is now my dump blog, LMAO. pls enjoy this drabble!

i. academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class.

“It’s driving me mad, Prongs,” says a frazzled Remus Lupin, pacing back and forth in his nearly-empty classroom. Sirius watches from where he sits backwards on a wooden chair—not at all concerned with the woes of his lover, rather preoccupied with the derriere of the DADA professor, hugged beautifully by his trousers. (He makes a mental note to thank Lily and her shopping sprees in Muggle London later. And, thoroughly.) Lily eyes Remus warily, ignoring the way James is tugging at her newly-trimmed hair like a lovesick fourth-year.

“I’ve fought in the bloody war, what do you mean my ‘pronunciation could do with some work’?” Remus scoffs, a bewildered expression on his flushed cheeks. Then, he points to the basket of lemon poppy-seed muffins, “And, the gall to send me that. Can you believe it?”

“No way,” Lily widens her eyes in mock outrage, gasping for melodramatic effect. “How dare anyone send our sweet, darling Remus homemade muffins?”

Remus dangles the swing handle of the wicker basket by his hand, nose scrunched in disgust as though it could turn him into a werewolf for the second time. “It’s not about the baskets, Lily! It’s a fear-mongering tactic—a threat, if you will. If Gryffindor doesn’t win the house cup, I might as well resign from my post.”

James chortles, leaning back against his seat to fully stare at Remus. (And what a lovely face he has.) “Don’t you think you’re going overboard there, Moony? We’ve won the bloody thing every year—and if we’re running behind Hufflepuff, I can always give ickle Harry a hundred points for being our son. Quite a feat, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lily smacks him on the arm. “Don’t you dare, James Fleamont Potter!”

Sirius whistles. “Full name. Yikes. You’re on your own there, mate.”

James glares at him. “I’ve had my tongue down your throat, don’t call me ‘mate’.”

Grinning, Sirius diverts his attention back to the pouting werewolf, struck by whatever magical spell you’ve cast on him—and their happy little wedded bunch. (He particularly likes the way you raise your voice when the Weasley twins charm your greenhouse with the colors of maroon and yellow. The upturn of your nose and raw fury in your eyes does something funny to his heart.) “Be honest, Moony, you’re just frustrated because our favorite professor is wearing those bell-bottom jeans that make their legs look just utterly delectable,” he grins salaciously.

“Can confirm,” replies Lily with a chirpy nod. “The back view is even better.”

“Well, yes, but that’s beside the point, my love,” Remus splutters with a cough. “It’s a matter of legacy and pride now. If—”

“While I appreciate being the topic of conversation, I’ve come to collect my students’ papers on Hinkypunks and Dugbogs,” you enter the fray with a knock on the door, startling them from their conversation; a wide smile on your face and a yellow scarf around your neck. “You see, I like to give them points myself when they score above a hundred percent. It really motivates them for the end-of-year exams.”

James beams at your arrival, like a sunflower blooming under sunlight on a summer day. He stretches his arms wide, a space perfectly carved for you. “Come here, darling,” he calls out for his spouse, quickly affirming that the jeans you’re wearing is a blessing to the wizard kind. (He wonders if you’d let him peel it off you tonight.) As you perch yourself atop his lap, James nuzzles the crook of your neck, pressing soft, butterfly kisses to your skin. “How was your day?”

He captures your lips and you eagerly lean into his warmth. “Perfect now that I’ve found you all. Why were you hiding here, anyway?” you ask innocently, fluttering your lashes at Remus. “Did you get my gift, Moony? The elves helped me with it last night.”

“He’s just cross because you’ve become the entire castle’s favorite teacher in your first year,” Lily points out treacherously, flashing her doe eyes at Remus. (Great, now he’s got two pairs of the prettiest eyes on earth staring into his soul. He’s so beyond in love with everyone in this room.) “Not even the Malfoy kid complains about you, and he still grumbles when I have to do my yearly check-ups.”

You laugh knavishly, beckoning him over. “Is it my fault that I’m so lovable?”

Remus scoffs, yet finds his feet drawn towards you in long, impatient strides. He leans down until the scent of ambrarome and coconut overwhelms your senses. You tug on his duck-printed tie, smiling as he grumbles lightheartedly into your lips, “Not at all, darling.”

“Shall I lock the doors now?” Sirius offers mischievously. “I’ve always wanted to do it in a classroom.”

ii. it’s too hot to cuddle!

“Mmmrgh, Lily, get off, you fiend,” you groan into the sweat-soaked pillow, suffering from one of the worst heat waves Godric’s Hollow has ever seen—swatting your wife away as she throws her leg over your thigh, impishly nibbling on your neck. On any other day, you’d relish the feel of her skin on yours, the tendrils of her flaming red hair tickling your bare arms—or the times you’d wake up to a tangled mess of crimson in your mouth. But today is just not that day.

Lily sniffles. “Ah, woe is me. My own son doesn’t want to hug me anymore, and none of the people I married want to cuddle me on this dreadful—what ever happened to ‘til death do us part’, you traitors?”

You roll over on the bed to face her with an incredulous glare—the pretty witch has the nerve to smile at you. “Don’t be so dramatic, Lily. Just cast another cooling charm, or something.”

Lily flops onto her side of the king-sized bed, breathless and flushed, arms splayed out like an octopus—wincing apologetically when she hits you in the face by accident. “I already did. We might just have to get naked to put up with this heat.”

James pokes his head through the door, glasses forgone and black hair messily strewn over his eyes; the damp fabric of his white shirt clinging to chiseled, dark skin. (Ah, the joys of marrying an active Auror and former Quidditch prodigy.) “Did someone say get naked?”

“Way ahead of everyone,” says Sirius as he steps out of the bathroom, having taken his fourth shower today, and wearing nothing but his birthday suit, face towel strung over his shoulder and toothbrush in the side of his mouth.

“Oh Gods, Sirius!” Lily squeals as she throws a pillow at him. “Get back in there and put some clothes on!”

“What?” he retorts quizzically, swirling around to give everyone a show—and a generous view of his abs and firm backside. And, well, the other thing, too. “It’s not like you haven’t seen any of this before.”

Last to join the party is Remus, who barely spares a second glance to the naked Sirius Orion Black. “Pack your things, I got us a room at a Muggle inn for an hour. Harry’s downstairs waiting for everyone. He says he’ll rip off the stuffed Padfoot’s head if no one accompanies him to the pool later.”

That is all he says before swiftly exiting the room.

You stare at the spot where he had been standing previously, whispering in awe, “God bless the Remus Lupins of the world.”

iii. too much communication.

“—and the thing is,” you say through your weepy blubbering, nose swollen and eyes stinging from crying for the last thirty minutes. “When you guys get all secret-ey and start avoiding me, it really makes me feel like shite. And. . . and then—!” you pause to hiccup, breaking down into sobs once more when Sirius gathers you into his arms, laying his love all over your skin, kissing your tears away as he coos into your ear. “And then, Gilderoy Lockhart comes and says that you all hide away in this h-house, or shack, or whatever and meet your secret girlfriend there! I know you said it was just us and you’d never, ever cheat—and I trust you all more than life itself! But I have to know why you disappear from me every month on a particular night. A-Are you tired of me or something?”

Sirius hushes you with his lips, brows contorted—as though he’s in pain because you are in pain. He cradles the back of your neck, placating your worries with whispers of devotion. “Oh, darling, I’m sorry. We didn’t mean for it to get this far. We just wanted to keep you from harm. You’re our world, our entire heart. If you’re hurt, it hurts worse for us, little love.”

Remus kneels by your feet, grabbing your hands in his; eyes dripping with fondness and warmth. The gold flecks in his eyes glimmering like stars in the night sky. “There’s something you have to know about me, love. We should have told you this long ago—but I was afraid you would look at me differently.”

You end up in another crying fit, overwhelmed by his kindness and sincerity. “I’ve seen you when you had food poisoning, Remus Lupin, I was the one who cleaned your vomit on the floors—nothing on this earth can make me look at you differently.”

Remus chokes, before gathering his bearings, hiding wet chuckles in your lap. “I’m a werewolf, my darling. That’s why we avoid you during full moons. To keep you safe. Your safety is always going to be one of my highest priorities. I’d die before I would let Moony harm a pretty hair on your head.”

“Is that it?” you croak, whimpers subsiding as relief floods through your veins. “Truly?”

Remus nods. “Truly.”

“Oh, our poor love,” Lily murmurs, delicately running her hand through your hair, a worried knit in her brows. “I’m sorry we let it get to this point. Look at you—you’ll cry yourself sick.” She procures a daintily-embroidered handkerchief from her skirt pockets, gently dabbing at your damp eyes, eyes creased with love. “I’m sorry,” she says once more, pressing her lips to yours until all you feel is her instead of hurt. “No more secrets, I promise.”

James scratches the back of his head with a crooked grin. “Well. . . there is one more. Remember that time you saw a stag in the corridors? That was me. And, the dog trying to get a look under your skirt was Sirius.”

You blink. “What?”

iv. child hero has very involved parents.

Harry James Potter is known as the Boy-Who-Lived, the beloved Chosen One of the wizarding society, if you will. He has a destiny to follow and all that—well, if he could actually do anything heroic.

“What do you mean there’s a basilisk in the castle!” you shriek, a poor vase in Dumbledore’s office shattering to a million pieces. Harry drags a hand down his face—this is going to be a very long night. Suddenly, he regrets writing a letter to home about the happenings in the castle. (How was he supposed to know that all five of his parents would march into Dumbledore’s quarters the moment they heard about the blood on the walls and the petrified students?) “Why haven’t you shut down the school yet? Are you waiting for more students to get hurt?” you press on heatedly, James and Sirius flanking your sides like protective bodyguards.

“Have you taken any protective measures?” Lily asks worriedly, holding onto Remus’s hand that’s resting on her shoulder. (Honestly, Harry thinks, rolling his eyes inwardly. The lot of you are worse than Molly Weasley at this point.) She turns to Harry, “What about Hermione? Is she safe? Oh, her parents must be worried.”

“You know what,” you say standing up, pivoting on your heel as your flock of lovers follow in suit. “We’re leaving, Harry dear, let’s go.”

“Go?” the twelve-year-old echoes dumbfoundedly. “Go, where?”

“Home,” you reply with no room for arguments. “Until the matter is resolved, you are staying home. And tell Hermione she’s welcome to stay with us, too. And, Ginny. Ronald, as well. Actually, darling, why don’t you just tell all your friends the Potter manor is open to them whenever.”

Harry thinks you’ve just decided that on a whim, but he knows that Lily and his fathers will go along with whatever you want, regardless.

Your gaze slices to Dumbledore with a low hiss, venomous enough to rival a Slytherin’s taunt. “Fix this or I shall hunt down that basilisk myself.”

Harry’s shoulders slump.

So much for fulfilling prophecies and defeating dark lords.

a/n: drabbles are so fun!! this was so fun to write (but not trying to set up another blog.. NEVER AGAIN, I AM STAYING HERE!) i might do some more drabbles since my brain is fried after my last few fics which were long as heck.

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nottswitch · 1 month ago

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[ have you been naughty this year? have you been nice? that’s for you to know and for me to wonder. put yourself on a list and grab a delightful present filled with the festive spirit, warmth and spice! ]

18+ mdni, no taglist

— the nice list ♡ ⛧ the naughty list —

winter blues (1/12) ───────────────

theo nott x reader. winter begins, and so do the winter blues. your boyfriend helps you through the melancholy in the best way possible.

2k / established relationship, oral (f receiving), body worship, nipple play, praise.

─────────────── (5/12) burning up

mattheo riddle x reader. quidditch is a sport that demands strength and stamina, resulting in physical exertion. exertion equals releasing disproportionate amounts of warmth, which, as it turns out, feels better shared.

3.1k / enemies to lovers, rough p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, spanking, choking, degrading, hair grabbing.

sticky & sweet (8/12) ─────────────

bsf!fred weasley x reader. during your trip to hogsmeade, you decide to pop into the famous honeydukes for some sweets. who would’ve guessed that your friend would find the sight of you with a lollipop so enticing?

1.5k / friendship without boundaries, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, praise, slight gagging, candy play.

─────────── (10/12) santa’s little helper

brother’s bsf!lorenzo berkshire x nott!reader. it only takes one right wrong person and one right door to realize why you should stop the habit of changing in your brother’s dorm.

2.4k / brother’s bsf, voyerism, rough p in v, unprotected sex, spanking, choking with a belt, restraining, degrading.

closer (13/12) ─────────────────

mattheo riddle x reader. your boyfriend’s return from one of the meetings with his father is always a gamble, a shot it the dark. this time, he simply needs you close.

1.8k / established relationship, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, body worship, cockwarming, praise.

─────────────── (15/12) look at you

toxic!theo nott x reader. you always tell your boyfriend everything that’s going on in your life, except this time you might’ve failed to mention just what kind of outfit you were going to wear to your performance at the yule ball.

2.2k / toxic established relationship, jealousy, rough anal, unprotected sex, creampie, mirror sex, spanking, degrading, denied orgasm.

no place like home (25/12) ───────────

mattheo riddle x reader. in the midst of the second wizarding war, you have to go into hiding at mattheo’s insistence – he knows his father will be looking for you. however, on christmas eve he pays you an unexpected yet very welcome visit.

1.6k / established relationship, p in v, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, creampie, nipple play, praise.

────────────── (26/12) wrapped up

bsf!theo nott x reader. expecting another lonely christmas at hogwarts, theo stumbles into his dorm only to find out that his best friend never left the castle.

best friends to lovers, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, rough p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, spanking, restraining, gagging, degrading/praise.

darling? (28/12) ────────────────

lorenzo berkshire x reader. the christmas break at the berkshires’ has been going smoothly, except for the fact that your boyfriend barely has time for you and your disproportionately growing needs.

established relationship, thigh riding, mirror sex, fingering, crying, praise.

──────────(31/12) a threat and a promise

theo nott x reader. they say that the way you spend the new year’s night is the way you’re going to spend the whole year. you never took this expression to heart until now.

enemies to lovers, fingering, brief oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, degrading/praise.

just a taste (02/01)───────────────

theo nott x reader. waking up in the middle of the night isn’t the most pleasant experience, but it gets significantly more bearable when you remember that your boyfriend always sleeps naked.

established relationship, somnophilia, free use, ass eating (m receiving), masturbating (m receiving), praise.

────────────(05/01) make me, beg me

academic rival!tom riddle x reader. when tom hears that you’re planning to leave hogwarts for the christmas break, he is, for the lack of a better word, displeased.

enemies with benefits, rough p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, spanking, choking, restraining, degrading.

#— naughty & nice ☾#theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire smut #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #top divider by: ioveartfilm #lights divider by: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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pyrrhiccomedy · 8 months ago

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A DM’s Fair Play Guide To Plot Twists

I love running a game with a lot of surprises. The challenge to pulling this off well is that, unless you’re playing a one on one game, your players outnumber you: and between them, they have a good chance of figuring out what’s going to happen, no matter how sneaky and clever you are.

The first way of dealing with this - which I’ll just call the bullshit way - is to not give your players the information they need to solve the mystery. Don’t let them find out about the secret society until it’s too late. Don’t give them any reason to suspect that their NPC ally is planning to kill them. Don’t let them find the murder weapon, don’t let them locate the witnesses, don’t give them the chance to skip to the end of their investigation.

This sucks, and if you run your games like this, you’re going to piss off your players. Because it isn’t fair.

In mystery literature, a “fair play mystery” is one where the reader is given all of the information they need in order to figure out the solution before the Big Reveal. It’s what makes the reveal good: that GASP, the “oh shit, the knife! the knife from the party! that was hers! I forgot!”

Pulling off a twist in a fair play game is an incredible feeling. Your players will think you’re a genius (or an absolute dick bastard, which is just as good) and they’ll respect it more when they land in hot water that they plausibly could have avoided. So how do you run a fair play game without your players figuring out the twists ahead of time, given that you’re definitely not smarter than all of your players put together?

By fucking with their expectations.

Here are some things that I keep in mind, to keep my players guessing. And it’s important, with all of this, that if your players see through something, let them have it. They should figure out a lot of things on their own! But if you’re regularly seeding your stories with all of this stuff, eventually your players will miss something. Those are somethings you can build on. The same way that a low level enemy who gets away once can keep coming back again and again until they become an important antagonist, a misapprehension your party proves to have a blindspot for can grow and develop until they get smacked with a breathtaking twist.

What’s a twist if not the sudden overturning of an assumption you never thought to question?

1: Make your powerful friendly NPCs know a lot...but not as much as the players think they do.

Player characters often end up with powerful allies. It would be very convenient for the party if those allies always had accurate information. Make sure they don’t always enjoy that convenience.

It’s a balancing act: you want your powerful NPCs to be powerful. You want this alliance to be meaningful and beneficial to your players. But give your NPC an Achilles heel of some kind, when it comes to the information at their disposal. The Noble General commands powerful forces and knows the lay of the enemy’s land well...but that doesn’t mean he knows what every squadron and scouting party is up to. The Political Mastermind may know the ins and outs of the court, and have keen insight into the motivations of others: but he has an enemy who pisses him off so much that he loses all objectivity around her. The Powerful Wizard can call upon great magic to aid the party: but his divinations aren’t as accurate as he thinks they are, and he’s prone to finding, in his signs and omens, what he wants to see, more than what’s actually there.

Most of the time, their information should be good! That will make it more likely that your players will trust them the one time when it isn’t.

2. Let (apparently) less powerful NPCs sometimes know more than the players think they do.

Most NPCs aren’t the Noble General or the Powerful Wizard. Most NPCs are Daves, designed to get the players from place to place. Most of those Daves know about as much as you’d expect them to. But some Daves have plans of their own.

You don’t always have to signpost with big blinking lights which of your NPCs are ‘important,’ and which ones are ‘unimportant.’ Sneak in a crafty Dave from time to time. That assistant they talk to, every time they go to see the prince? That bitch knows everything, and she’s almost ready to make her move.

3: There is no such thing as a completely reliable witness.

If the players only get information from one person, that information should be flawed in at least one, potentially small, but important way. Smart players will seek a second opinion, or at least allow for the possibility that their information may be incomplete. But even smart players get out over their skis sometimes.

4: Let your NPCs be aware of the power of a first impression.

If an NPC gives a strong first impression of being a particular kind of person, it’s because they’re comfortable giving that impression. That might be because it’s who they are. But maybe not.

One of the first characters the PCs met in a VtM campaign I ran was Gawaine. Gawaine was a good old pine-scented man’s man, with salt and pepper stubble and a blue Ford truck. He listened to AC/DC, and talked about the war. He was affable and honest and willing to lend a hand. You already know Gawaine. Everybody knows a Gawaine. Gawaines are trustworthy, salt of the earth types. You don’t necessarily think to question a Gawaine.

That’s exactly why Gawaine was such a useful persona for Krystiyan, the Tzimisce Voivode, a cruel and alien sculptor of flesh who “never left his haven.” There were plenty of clues that they were the same person, but that campaign was in its endgame before the players put them all together.

5: Sometimes, dangerous and villainous NPCs should be helpful and cooperative.

Not even necessarily because they’re manipulating the players, or even deceiving them about their true natures, but because their interests and the players’ interests genuinely align...for the moment.

One of the easiest levers in your players’ brains to exploit is the expectation that people who help you are your friends. Even if your players know, consciously, that they shouldn’t trust this person, most of the time they kind of can’t help it, if the NPC is genuinely helpful to them and at least a little charismatic.

6: Sometimes, good and valuable NPCs should be unhelpful and uncooperative.

No matter how mature your players are, there’s a natural tendency to react to uncooperative NPCs with a reflexive, “Hey, fuck you! We’re the protagonists! This guy is an asshole!” so from time to time have a helpful, honest, good-aligned NPC have a wholly justified but as-yet-unknown-to-the-party reason to flatly refuse to deal with them.

7: Every NPC should have a secret.

Not necessarily a bad secret. Were it to be revealed, it might even make the party like them more! But for their own reasons, the NPC does not want their secret to come out, and they will lie to the party to protect it. Players go crazy when they realize they’re being lied to, and often jump to some wild assumptions about your NPC’s motivations. I’ve had an NPC lie about the opening hours of a shop, and had the PCs assume that they were black market dealers for the villain when the dude just wanted to be able to close early so he could go smoke weed in the park.

8. As a DM, it’s polite to remind your players of the common knowledge their characters would possess...even when it doesn’t reflect the truth.

We all know it’s tedious when the DM calls for a roll when you’re just asking for common knowledge. I shouldn’t have to make a roll to know the dumb space word for plastic in a Star Wars game. I shouldn’t have to make a roll to know who the Holy Roman Emperor is in a game about medieval vampires. The DM should supply common knowledge for free, whenever it comes up.

That doesn’t mean common knowledge is true.

This is different from just lying to your players, because you don’t put the weight of DM word-of-God behind it. It’s not “You would know this guy is a Ventrue, based on XYZ.” It’s “it would be a common assumption that this guy is a Ventrue, based on XYZ.” He might not be a Ventrue. It might in fact be extremely important that he is not a Ventrue. But if it is commonly assumed that he’s a Ventrue, that is - word for word - something you can share with your players. If they don’t look any deeper than common knowledge, that’s on them.

9. Obviously untrustworthy NPCs provide great air coverage for less obviously untrustworthy NPCs.

The obviously untrustworthy NPC might or might not be planning to betray the party. But if you introduce two untrustworthy NPCs in the same storyline, and one of them seems normal and cool and has a genuine plot-related reason to be there, and the other one is Jaffar, Jaffar’s gonna get clocked, but Susan over there will probably slip under the radar, and might even get tapped to help out with the whole Jaffar situation. They might get Susan’s number, by the end of the session. Susan might become an ‘ally.’ Susan might even get romanced by a party member. Play your cards right, and Jaffar might just end up a footnote in the introduction of Susan, Scourge of Worlds and most hated NPC in the entire campaign.

10. Your villains should always have a secret plan B.

Your villain isn’t stupid, right? And your villain probably isn’t so arrogant that it is inconceivable to them that their plan might fail. They’ve been planning this ritual for ten thousand years, after all. It’s always possible that some plucky band of heroes could show up at the last minute and murder your high priest, or steal your amulet, or seduce your second in command. So what does your villain have in his back pocket to make the players go, “Oh, shit - he planned for this!”

This may mean that there is a whole separate plot happening, running alongside the main story. This is great, because when weird things happen, the players have to figure out whether this is part of Plot A or Plot B, and working out who did what and why gets a lot more interesting. If they end up foiling Plot A, great - your villain was also secretly behind Plot B the whole time, and will transfer all of his resources over to that.

Sometimes your players will figure out that Plots A and B were both the same plot the whole time, with the same villain at the head, and they’ll feel like the smartest people on the planet, and it will be their favorite moment of the entire game. That’s great! You gave them that!

Sometimes, they won’t. And when the villain of Plot A, apparently defeated, starts laughing and reveals that he was also the mastermind behind Plot B, which is now too late to be stopped, that will probably be your favorite moment of the entire game.

#dice matters

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multiverse-menagerie · 1 year ago

Note

Perhaps could I request the bg3 companions going through Tav's sketchbook and finding that it's riddled with drawings of each companion, but especially them. Maybe it's the early stages of a romance or smthn?

I’ve been slowly spinning this around in my head, yessss

Gale

At first, Gale thinks journal is a book you’ve left for him. He’s not really one to go through your personal belongings after all. But upon opening the journal and finding swaths of drawings of your party and him, he’s thrown a little off kilter

He returns it to you immediately (read as: he fights with himself for a good ten minutes to stop looking at the sketches of himself and return the book to you) but asks you about your hobby

Listens very intently to however much you’re willing to tell him. Gale would ask, “are those me? or do you know some other roguishly handsome wizard with a penchant for fancy robes?”

He’s trying Very Hard to downplay his feelings about the whole matter. He’s not used to being the admired one…but he’s certainly not complaining

Shadowheart

As she hopes everyone will respect her need for privacy, Shadowheart strives to do the same for others. Despite many opportunities to peak at your journal, she resists and eventually asks you about it directly, but with no pressure

shy!Tav, nervously showing off the sketches and trying to gloss over how many of these drawings are of Shadowheart - after a deep breath, Shadowheart ignores the blush rising on her skin and asks about some of the other drawings

Confident!Tav, flipping through the sketches and happily showing off the images of Shadowheart especially - Shadowheart flusters, sputters out a near incomprehensible jumble of words and rushes off

Either way, the moment lives Rent Free(tm) in her head and she hopes you’ll show her the journal again

Astarion

STUNNED. like, almost drops your sketch in surprise bc wait. Holy shit. Is that him??

recovers smoothly, plays down the way his adrenaline has spiked

It does not matter how good the portraits of him are, sketches or fully finished drawings, he is Memorizing those pages

If you draw him with any soft expression, he’ll point out that image to you and be like “I think you’ve messed up on that particular reaction, dear” (that’s how he looks at you, shh don’t tell him)

Wyll

He spots you watching him one day as he’s training, your eyes flipping between him and the journal in front of you. Eventually he gives in and wanders over, inquiring about what you’re up to

when you show him the spread, sketches of him doing swordplay (and a few close headshots) - Wyll is both very impressed and very flustered

He compliments your skills, though jokingly questions the subject of your drawings. Certainly someone else would make a more attractive drawing, he says, gesturing vaguely to his mismatched eyes and newly acquired horns

Is surprised by the fierce frown you give him, the disapproval in your voice at his suggestion. You’re drawing him for a reason. Thoroughly chastised and a little embarrassed, Wyll thanks you (he doesn’t elaborate beyond that but you get the idea)

Karlach

Karlach is too afraid to touch anything that seems even vaguely flammable, but she’s seen you scribbling into your journal on many an occasion. Eventually her curiosity gets the better of her and she asks you about it

If you’re hesitant to show her, she’ll back off…but kind of pout like a little kid. Not in an attempt to make you feel bad but just bc that’s who she is. If and when you decide to show her the sketches, she’s super hyped

Jaw on the floor. She’s not got the patience or skills for drawing, not really, but your talent blows her away. And then she sees the drawings of her and she’s like - mouth open, heart eyes

jokes about how you’ve drawn her, with a huge grin on her face the whole time “how long have you been staring at my thighs to get the drawing this accurate? should I get a new outfit for your next page?”

Lae’zel

She’s never really cared much for her appearance - don’t get me wrong, she thinks she looks great but she’s never really been the one to stare at her reflection or anything

But Lae’zel sees herself in your sketches, drawings of her in softer states, in relaxation, and shes…surprised

Part of her bristles - she’s a strong warrior on a mission, she doesn’t need you seeing her as soft. But a different part of her…eases. Relaxes. You see her as an individual worth affection.

Lae’zel wouldn’t comment much about the drawings, but she would ask to sit and watch you draw, if it wouldn’t bother you. Your skilled hands, the way your brow furrows as you draw. Yes. She likes that.

Halsin

At first, Halsin is simply impressed by your talents. Artistry has always been something he’s enjoyed, no matter the form, so he’s happy to get to see your work

When he comes across the pages devoted to him, he’s thrown off a little. He’s used to being admired, if we’re being honest. As long as he’s lived and as many people he’s been with, it happens. But he’s not used to…this. Being part of the art but without any expectation of him.

Traces a finger over the lines of his face - somehow you’ve captured a look that makes him seem so…heroic. Is that how you see him? Warmth feels his chest and he goes to seek you out

You don’t get much of an answer, when you ask why he’s scooped you and paying you extra attention, nuzzling his face into your hair

#baldurs gate x reader #gale x reader #astarion x reader #karlach x reader #wyll x reader #Lae’zel x reader #halsin x reader #shadowheart x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader

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anto-pops · 9 months ago

Text

Sudsy Confessions - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: As the end of the school year continues to creep up on all of the seventh-year students, Sebastian has thought about what’s to come after graduation shamefully little. He’s equal parts annoyed and worried that he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, and he’s even more frustrated that he’s running out of time to tell you how he really feels about you. When a chance opportunity finally presents itself, Sebastian seizes the moment, even if the setting is a little… unorthodox.

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian confessing his long-harbored love for you while you’re naked in a bathtub.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, love confessions, bathtub sex

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3 with more diverse tags :))

It was rare for Sebastian to get so bent out of shape over Quidditch. Especially since it had been an unofficial scrimmage between him and a handful of friends– which he had still won, mind— but it was the topic of discussion that had transpired after the actual event in The Three Broomsticks that had gotten him all hot and bothered, and there was no way around the truth of the matter.

Garreth had brought up graduation.

It was a topic that Sebastian had done his best to steer clear of since he had yet to formulate a plan for himself after Hogwarts. Apparently Weasley would be starting an apprenticeship with J. Pippins at his shop in Hogsmeade, which had warranted a few hesitant congratulations from the rest of his motley group. It was obvious that Leander and Imelda assumed the same thing Sebastian did; that Garreth would probably blow up the shop soon after starting.

Then there was Imelda. Headstrong, resilient, and determined to prove herself. She fully intended on trying out for the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team after graduation and refused to believe she would do anything but succeed. There was no reason to doubt her at all– she’d always been masterful on her broom and had set new records left and right since Professor Black had reinstated Quidditch again. Sebastian only hoped that he was well out of sight in the event things didn’t go the way Imelda wanted them to.

Leander had taken a bit of a sharp turn somewhere between the start of school and the present moment and apparently wanted to apply to work at the Ministry. Specifically, he’d been talking about joining the Council of Magical Law– evidently finding the power that would come with such a position all too appealing. Sebastian couldn’t help but think it was rather on brand for the Gryffindor to think as much, but his encouragement had been lukewarm all the same.

Though he hadn’t joined them at The Three Broomsticks, it was already known that Ominis was also thinking about working for the Ministry, but with a different motive. He wanted to get more closely involved with the Muggle Liaison Office for reasons that continued to escape Sebastian. Whether it was to learn more about their differences to wizard-kind or to spite his family further, Sebastian didn’t know, but he was frankly inclined to believe the latter.

Then there was you. The enigma, the mystery– the great unknown that had turned his entire world upside down from the moment you’d walked through the Great Hall doors two years ago. He had no clue what your plans were after graduation, and not knowing was slowly eating him alive. It had less to do with being kept out of the loop and more to do with his unspoken feelings for you– feelings that he had been keeping to himself for years now in a bid to keep his friendship with you unmarred. After your tumultuous fifth-year, it had understandably taken some time for the two of you to get back to any semblance of normalcy, and now that graduation was approaching, he couldn’t help but feel like time was slipping through his fingers.

Sebastian’s previously upbeat demeanor had darkened considerably after that conversation, leading him to bail entirely on drinks at the pub in favor of returning to Hogwarts to wallow in self-pity.

He’d moved in absolute silence following his return, a metaphorical rain cloud looming over his head as he’d gone to his dorm to grab his toiletries and a change of clothes before setting off for the Prefect’s bathroom. Friday nights were notoriously quiet now that everyone’s N.E.W.T’s had been completed, and Sebastian relished in the solitude that he always found in the spacious washroom. Sneaking in and using it was well worth the risk if it spared him from more idle conversations with his fellow classmates.

It wasn’t unusual for the door to be locked– due in large part to the fact that it always was– so he undid the latch with his wand and shouldered the door open, barreling into the humid space with the grace of a hurricane. He tossed his items down on the countertop beside the sink and ripped his toothbrush out of his bag, shoving it in-between his lips as he turned the faucet on and rifled around for his bath soaps. Disappointment clouded his mind as his thoughts wandered back to you and the unknown future. It wouldn’t take much more than courage and a slim chance for Sebastian to get his feelings for you off his chest, but his fear of rejection kept him rooted in place. He was certain that at this point, it always would.

“Keep running the water like that and you’ll drain the entire lake,” a familiar voice said from somewhere behind him. Sebastian damn near choked himself with his toothbrush as he whirled around to face the culprit, and then he found himself on the verge of fainting when he realized it was you.

You were lounging in the massive tub with a smile on your face, not at all bothered by Sebastian’s sudden intrusion. Your hair was pinned up off of your bare shoulders in a messy heap, and the brunet stood no chance at concealing his blatant double take when he caught sight of your wet skin. The bulk of your naked body was covered by the scant spread of bubbles, but the tantalizing view of your collarbones had a flush rapidly spreading across his cheeks.

“I– shit– I’m so sorry, I didn’t think anyone was in here,” Sebastian frantically mumbled around his mouthful of toothbrush. Dammit, he sounded like a fool. He ripped the thin stick from his mouth and spun back around to shut off the faucet and hastily gather his belongings from the counter.

“You didn’t really knock to find out, but it’s fine. Don’t rush off on my account.”

Your nonchalant tone made him pause, and he hesitantly lifted his head to stare at your reflection in the mirror. True to your words, you seemed wholly unbothered by his presence, simply continuing to bask in the warmth of the water as the steam wafted up into your face.

There wasn’t a chance in hell he could have anticipated something like this happening.

Almost reluctantly, Sebastian dropped his towel back onto the countertop, instead picking up the paste for his toothbrush before setting to work brushing his teeth. He watched through the mirror as you raked your wet fingers through the free strands of hair that had fallen in front of your face, and the sound of the disturbed water dripping down your arms echoed through the space. “Did you win your scrimmage?” Your eyes never wavered from his in the reflection, and he nodded. “Go out for drinks afterwards?” Another nod, switching to brush the other side of his mouth. “Ominis and Garreth?” Sebastian shook his head. “What, Garreth and Leander?”

He mumbled around a mouthful of foam, “An’ Imelda.”

Your expression pinched into one of confusion as you mused, “I thought you didn’t like drinking with Leander.” Sebastian only shrugged in vague response before bending forward to spit and rinse, trying incredibly hard to not think about how very naked and wet you were presently. He was unsuccessful.

For a brief moment, Sebastian debated on changing into his pajamas and leaving despite having come to bathe, but something possessed him to turn around and contemplate you after he turned off the faucet. The easy smile on your face and your half hooded eyes almost knocked him out, and he swallowed thickly.

What was it he had thought to himself just moments earlier? Courage and a slim chance? Was this not exactly that?

“Hey,” he muttered softly, his voice almost a whisper. “What are your plans after graduation?”

You tilted your head to the side in visible confusion, a strand of hair falling in front of your eyes seductively from the movement. He tried not to stare too hard. “Plans?”

“What will you do once it’s time to leave? You haven’t said anything to me about it– or Ominis,” he added quickly. “We were talking about it in Hogsmeade earlier, so I was just wondering.”

You seemed to ponder his question for a minute, your wandering hands coming to a sudden halt in the mass of bubbles. Truthfully, you hadn’t brought it up to either of the Slytherin men because you hadn’t come to a final decision yet, but it made sense that with the completion of your N.E.W.T’s, people would begin planning their post-Hogwarts lives. The thought made you equal parts sad and nervous.

“I thought about getting a job at first… to make a name for myself and save money, you know? But honestly, I think I might travel. I’ve explored virtually all of the Highlands for ancient magic sites and I think I’ve hit a dead end. I want to learn more about Isidora’s magic– the power from the Repository is still as much of an unknown now as it was two years ago. It’s just collecting dust inside of me at this point.”

Sebastian gave you a nonplussed blink and did his damndest not to sound paranoid when he responded. “Travel? Where exactly were you thinking?”

You shrugged and averted your gaze to the bubbles in front of you. Of course Sebastian would be displeased to discover that yet another person from his life would be departing it so soon. It was part of the reason you’d been keeping your intentions to yourself for so long. Nonetheless, you answered softly, “Maybe to Poland. Isidora’s notes mentioned that she originally hailed from there–”

“Poland?” Sebastian’s frantic voice cut you off, and he found his legs carrying him to the edge of the bathtub to kneel there and bore holes in the top of your head from across the water. “You would go that far to chase after a maybe? You don’t know for certain if looking out there will even bring you any new information– it sounds incredibly reckless.”

You fixed him with a hard, telling look. “That’s rich, coming from you. Who was it that refused to let up in his search for a cure for all of fifth-year?”

His brows slammed down atop his narrowed eyes, “That was different.”

“How is it any different?” You sounded exasperated, and he sighed indignantly. “You wanted answers, and you never stopped looking for them. You had nothing to go off of, much like myself presently, and you were willing to do anything if it meant saving Anne. I want to use this power for something good, Sebastian. I can’t do that if I don’t know how it works. Leaving is the only plausible outcome for me.”

“It would be that easy for you, then? To leave and disappear for who knows how long searching for who knows what? Would you have even told me if I hadn’t asked just now?”

It would be that easy for you to leave me, is what he really wasn’t saying.

You shook your head at him, completely bewildered that he was so affected by your revelation. “Eventually, yes, I would have. I don’t understand– why do you care so much? You of all people should know I would keep in touch; I’ll send owls every week, keep you updated on where I am and what happens. Going our separate ways was practically always in the cards, Sebastian.”

Some tiny, annoying part of him had always known that. Living at Hogwarts was a blissful reprieve from the real world, offering himself and other students a sanctuary from the concerns and problems of adult life. Hearing you voice your thoughts was a completely different thing, however, and Sebastian was woefully unprepared for the dawning realization that he wouldn’t be able to see you anymore.

He silently cursed himself for having taken this fucking long to accept how empty he would feel without you beside him.

“Sebastian,” you whispered from across the tub, and his eyes slid shut at the sound of your gentle voice. It hurt too much to fathom not getting to hear it again, or not being able to see you and crack stupid jokes with you in the middle of Potion’s class. He wouldn’t get to duel other students with you in Crossed Wands, or go to Hogsmeade to drink Butterbeers and stop by the lake on your walks back to skip rocks. All of it would end, and he would be alone.

Again.

“Sebastian,” you said again, and the closer proximity of your voice had him cracking his eyes open. You were directly in front of him now, evidently having left your spot on the other side of the bath to siddle directly up to the ledge in front of him. Your wide eyes gazed imploringly up at him, and your grip on the edge of the tub was white-knuckled. “Why do you care so much?”

“How could I not care?” He forced the words out while he still had the courage, seemingly gazing into the depths of your very soul as he stared down at you. His words had your eyes widening further as a flush crept up your neck onto your cheeks, and before you got the chance to say anything, Sebastian was leaning down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss.

A surprised squeak weaseled its way from your throat as he lifted his hands to cradle your head cautiously, and you weakly curled your fingers around his wrists as he dipped lower to accommodate for the awkward angle. Sebastian kissed you hungrily and passionately– in the way he had dreamed of doing for years. He licked along your lower lip and bit gently at it, pulling a gasp from your parted lips before one of your hands came to rest on his bent knee, leaving a wet handprint behind in its wake.

After a few heated moments, Sebastian broke away to look at you through his lashes, more surprised than anything to discover that your face was an open book; a mixture of shock and hesitance was etched into your features while something much hotter burned in your eyes, making his head fucking spin.

“Sebastian, I– ah…”

He let you go and sat back on his heels then, crossing his arms over his knees and resting his chin on his forearms as he peered at you nervously. There were a thousand different things Sebastian wanted to blurt out, but he settled for staying quiet as he waited for you to say something– anything.

You gaped up at him for a moment, blinking slowly as the flush across your cheeks darkened considerably. “How long?”

He shrugged timidly before he said, “Ages. Since fifth-year, if I’m being honest.”

“You didn’t… say anything?” His curly brown locs brushed across his forehead as he shook his head. “Why?”

“After everything that happened in the Catacombs, I was terrified of fucking things up again. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship– I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. So I just… kept my feelings to myself. But now you’re telling me you would leave– that it was always inevitable things would end this way– and I can’t accept that. I refuse to.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your mind was reeling from Sebastian’s revelation, and your heart was hammering away in your chest so loudly that you were certain he could hear it. Of course you felt the exact same way, but much like Sebastian you’d been worried about ruining things or complicating your already tentative relationship– especially after the events of your fifth-year. But now here he was– on his damn knees confessing to you– and your thoughts of the future vanished completely from your mind.

Biting your lip, you stared up at Sebastian for a moment with wide eyes. One of your hands rose off the edge of the tub to trail your wet fingers across his cheek, and as Sebastian’s freckled face moved away from his arm to swim clearly into view, you stood straight out of the water invitingly and let him wrap his strong arms around your bare waist. As the water beading over your skin soaked through Sebastian’s shirt, his eyes flickered between yours, searching for the hesitance he’d seen there before.

It was nowhere to be found.

When your lips met with his again, the softness had left them, and the two of you kissed one another hard and needily. Sebastian straightened and nipped at your lips, smiling against your mouth as you melted into him, and your breath caught somewhere in your throat when his tongue slipped into your open mouth to tangle with your own. Holding you tighter, Sebastian trailed his hands over your slick skin– traversing up your spine and into your unruly hair to tangle his fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck. He kissed you desperately, moaning softly into your mouth when he felt your hands sweep across his shoulders to fumble with the buttons at the front of his shirt.

You’d made it about halfway down the row of clasps before Sebastian grew impatient, freeing one of his hands to deftly undo the buttons with a practiced finesse that made your mouth water eagerly. He panted along the curve of your jaw as he undressed, biting and sucking at the skin of your throat until he was pulling away to shrug the damp material off of his shoulders. His tie was still snug around his neck, clamping the collar of his button-up in place, and he growled as he loosened the thin bit of fabric before yanking it over his head and diving back into the kiss like he’d been starved of your very essence.

Until now the bizarre angle had proved to be a non-issue– but then the pressing matter of his trousers came to light, and you felt as Sebastian blindly palmed at his belt buckle in a bid to undo it. “Need help?” Your coy offer whispered against his lips sent shivers up his spine, but he was too frantic and greedy to give you the chance to assist.

Those toned, capable arms released you so he could stand fully, his lust-dark eyes never wavering from yours as he finally succeeded in unlooping his belt from around his waist. “Just don’t move and keep watching like that– it’s helping me plenty.”

You flashed him a mocking pout but did as he asked, settling back into the water and scanning his body longingly as he stripped down to his briefs. He teasingly ran his thumbs under the waistband of his undergarments and shot you a smug look, all too pleased with the way you licked your lips when he eventually began slipping the attire down the delectable ‘V’ of his hips. The sight of Sebastian biting his lip as his cock sprung free and arched proudly against his toned stomach had you halting your movements, though, and you audibly whimpered before the brunet threw his briefs over his shoulder and descended into the soapy water with you.

In a flash he had you back within reach, his hands coming to cup your rear as he silently prompted you to jump into his arms so he could carry you through the water towards the rim of the massive tub. Your back bumped against the tiles there, and Sebastian took full advantage by pressing himself into you more firmly. The hard, stiff length of him rubbed tantalizingly against your folds, and you sighed contentedly before his mouth was on yours once more.

The two of you languidly kissed for what seemed like forever, and you were more than willing to continue for as long as Sebastian saw fit. When one of the hands he had against your rear began to slip lower into uncharted territory, you smiled against his lips and huffed out an airy laugh. “Eager, are you?”

“Shut up,” Sebastian murmured against your mouth, holding fast to your bottom harder and with greater fervor. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this.”

You arched your hips against Sebastian’s and drew in a shaky breath at the sensation of his shaft grazing over a particularly sensitive spot. “Then show me,” you implored.

Growling again, Sebastian wrangled you around until you were kneeling on the ledge with your back to him and your hands braced on the rim of the bathtub. His hands were seemingly everywhere; sliding down your shoulder blades, scratching at the curve of your waist, then ghosting down the backs of your thighs as he nudged your legs apart further. You felt as he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss against the outline of your spine, and there wasn’t a chance in hell you could smother the shudder of delight that coursed through you. Sebastian moved on swiftly, though, and began pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses against your lower back, curling his hands around your hips before you felt him descend closer to your nether region. In your current position, it was just barely peeking above the thin layer of bubbles within the tub, and you heard the water slosh around Sebastian as he dropped to his knees and came face to face with your most intimate parts.

The broad slick of Sebastian’s tongue sliding through your folds pulled a startled gasp from your lips, and your forehead fell against the tile with a soft, stuttered moan. The feeling of him tasting you– achingly and deliberately slow– had you shaking in earnest as you bit your knuckle for a semblance of control. You were struggling against the urge to rock back into his ministrations, eventually settling for reaching between your spread legs with your free hand to rub at your clit for some added reprieve, but then Sebastian slid his palms from your hips to your inner thighs to nudge your hand away.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered to you, and you mewled softly before tucking your hand against your chest and nodding. “Don’t hold back, either. I want to hear you.”

You were on the verge of responding, but the way Sebastian slid his tongue over you again drove whatever words you’d formulated straight out of your head. His hands ghosted along your skin as he lowered himself further, the tops of his shoulders completely submerging beneath the soapy water, and he took care to trail his fingers slowly down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he made himself comfortable behind you.

Sebastian laved his tongue over you gently and encouragingly, then experimentally stiffened the muscle before poking it inside of you, leaving you whining and gasping his name. The brunet pushed his tongue in deeper then, moaning in response to the hitch in your voice as he pressed his lips against your folds and fucked the muscle into you slowly.

“Gods, S-Sebastian–”

The man in question sighed and picked up his pace, flicking his tongue into you and dropping messy kisses against you. One of his hands slid up to your clit, brushing two of his fingers over the bundle of nerves with a moan, and when he leaned in hard to fuck his tongue as deep as possible into you, your high, airy whimpers made Sebastian’s head spin.

With one last pump of his tongue, Sebastian pulled away, grinning at the way you twitched in response to his efforts. You heard the water stir and felt the warm, wet weight of the Slytherin drape over your back as he leaned forward to kiss across your shoulder, his hands running soothingly up the sides of your waist.

“Fuck,” Sebastian breathed out, prompting you to turn and look at him over your shoulder. Your half-hooded eyes and parted lips sparked something in him then, and when you reached back to tangle your fingers in his hair, the brunet leaned in to meet you gladly. You moaned into the kiss, drawing a like-minded sound from Sebastian when you ground your hips back against his throbbing member. His thick hands gripped at your waist tightly as he gasped against your mouth, a desire unlike any he’d ever experienced overtaking him in a matter of seconds. The urge to feel you encasing him was overwhelming– enough so that for one brief moment, Sebastian allowed himself to press so hard against you that it stole your breath and smothered your senses.

“Sebastian,” you groaned from beneath him. Your gaze sought him out, but his own eyes were pinched shut as he relished in the ecstasy that fell over him from merely grinding against you. It wasn’t simply the act itself that was doing it for him. It was knowing that he was doing it with you. Everything he had craved for two whole years was finally coming to fruition, and despite wanting to relish in every second of it with you, Sebastian was losing himself to his impulses. You called to him again, “Sebastian, please.”

His chocolate brown eyes cracked open at the sound of your voice coupled with your incessant tugging on his hair, and his shaky sigh told you everything you needed to know; he was incredibly eager.

“S-Sorry,” he stammered out, swallowing thickly in a way that drew your attention to his bobbing adam’s apple. You merely shook your head in silent dismissal, then rocked back against him to spur him into motion. If it was guidance he needed, you were more than happy to provide it. “I don’t know how much longer I can draw this out,” he admitted with a low voice, and as though to punctuate the statement, you felt his fingers dig into the skin of your hips to prevent you from moving against him any further.

“Then don’t,” you insisted needily, yanking lightly on his hair once more to goad him into moving. “I’m ready if you are.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” Sebastian murmured, his voice gravelly and directly against the shell of your ear. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

You shivered in anticipation when you felt one of his hands trail down the swell of your rear to probe at your slick entrance with one of his fingers. His other hand traced soothing circles against lower back, relaxing you further until you had melted against the rim of the tub with your neck craned to the side to watch Sebastian as he worked.

When he sank one of his fingers into you slowly, you let loose a shaky exhale and felt a flush creep up your neck and onto your cheeks, leaving Sebastian biting his lip at the wanton image you made as he pressed the digit knuckle deep. Thrusting slowly, he eventually managed to work a second finger into you, trying not to think too hard about the way you looked spread around him, or the way you moved back against him, or how fucking wet you were.

“Sebastian,” you groaned. His eyes flicked back up to yours, entirely certain that he looked just as fucking needy as you did– especially given the way you shivered and rode back against his hand a little harder. “C-Curl your fingers down a little–” he did so, and was instantly rewarded with a telling jolt from you. “Oh fuck– there–”

The sound of Sebastian moaning to himself was almost lost in the way you were gasping and keening, and he moved his hand from your back to your hip to hold you in place as he followed the same path you’d instructed him to with his fingers. He thrusted a little harder, curling his digits against your sweet spot, and the way you arched your back and spread your thighs as far as you could without slipping while you gasped for Sebastian was fucking intoxicating.

It was too much.

Sebastian pulled his fingers free and reached towards you without a second thought, coiling his arm around your waist as he leaned in to kiss you again. You couldn’t help but whine at the way his cock rubbed against you, and you were near boneless in the brunet’s arms as his lips molded to yours and his tongue delved into your mouth. His strong arm held you fast to him as the other braced against the rim of the tub, holding him steady above you as he kissed you senseless. When he finally broke away to catch his breath, you practically sagged into the water beneath him.

“Merlin, Sebastian…”

“Are you okay?” The Slytherin’s voice was rough when he asked, low and raspy with arousal, and once you gave your enthusiastic approval, Sebastian reached between the two of you to line himself up before pressing into you.

Sebastian’s eyes squeezed shut at how you felt around him; tight, hot, and utterly incredible. He just barely managed to keep his composure as he slowly filled you, and your scarcely stifled gasps and keening whimpers were decidedly not helping him keep his wits about him. Every fiber of Sebastian’s being urged him to ram his cock into you– to fuck your brains out and hear his name spill from your lips in breathless screams. When he finally did sheathe himself all the way inside of you, he melted against your back, holding you tightly and whispering your name against your ear over and over again.

“Fuck, you’re…” you trailed off, subtly shaking against Sebastian’s damp skin. “You’re b-big.”

“Gods, darling,” Sebastian breathed, exhaling roughly into the nape of your neck. “Can I move?”

You gave a stuttered assent, but you were still insanely tight around his cock, so for both your sakes when Sebastian pulled back a little and rolled his hips back in, he did so slowly in a bid to test the waters.

No pun intended.

Your choked moan was more than enough of an answer for him, so he worked to set a slow, deep rhythm, buying himself time to get used to the heat wrapped around his cock. The gentle sigh that emanated from you coupled with the way your back bowed ever so slightly told Sebastian that his restraint was appreciated. But then you were glancing back at him from over your shoulder, and the rosy flush that colored your cheeks combined with your glazed over eyes nullified the majority of his self-control.

Sebastian blindly trusted you to keep steady on your knees as he gripped your hips to thrust into you harder, moving faster and giving gasping moans as you tensed and groaned, squeezing him in the most perfect way. He pulled you back onto his cock, adjusting his hips so he could fuck into your sweet spot, and the way you arched under him and cried out was fucking amazing.

“Oh f-fuck, Sebastian,” you moaned, reaching back to tangle your hand in his damp, brown curls, and Sebastian let you tug him closer so he could mouth along your shoulder, tasting the sweet-smelling bathsoaps as he went. The water splashed around you both, and you swore softly as a small wave of sudsy water sloshed up the side of the tub and sprayed you in your face.

Taking note of your predicament, Sebastian slowed his movements and angled his head so he could murmur directly in your ear, “Do you want to move?”

“We could, but– damn, Sebastian–”

Sebastian didn’t want to fucking move. He did want to see your face, though. He pulled out swiftly, and before you could move to climb out of the water, he grabbed and maneuvered you around so your back was pressed against the side of the tub with your legs bent over his elbows. When he reached back further to grip the rim of the tub on either side of you, he sank back into you with a low moan. Water wasn’t the most spectacular of lubricants as it turned out, but you were naturally slick enough that it was essentially a nonissue.

The expression that spread over your flushed face drove Sebastian a little crazy. He moved hot and slow, pulling back far with every aching thrust before filling you up and making you whimper. It’s exactly what Sebastian had wanted, but the way your eyes rolled shut just made him want to fuck you harder, water splashing in your face be damned.

He leaned in close and nipped at your swollen lips, still rolling his hips maddeningly slow. “I want to fuck you so hard,” he managed, voice shaking. “I want to hear you scream my name. I want to see you fall over the edge so hard that you pass out in my arms.” He snapped his hips, just enough to make you cry out. “I’ll fuck you just like that. I’ll make the Prefects come running from how loud you are. I hope you don’t have plans this weekend, because you’re mine until the bell tolls on Monday.”

You whimpered and shivered under Sebastian, sucking in sharp breaths with every slow thrust, and when you rode your hips back into the brunet, he couldn’t help but let his head hang between his shoulders, his dark eyes sliding shut. The way you were sucking him in deeper was mind-blowing, the water flowing in waves around the two of you, until a burning, tightening sensation took root in your gut and made you grit your teeth together in anticipation.

“S-Sebastian, fuck,” he thrust harder in response, grinding his hips into you and causing your back to arch with a gasping cry. “Sebastian, I’m– I’m going to–”

“Do it,” he gasped, leaning in to kiss you quickly and messily. “Let me see how you come for me.”

Your nails dug into his shoulder before you pulled one hand away to begin frantically rubbing circles over your swollen clit. You rocked your hips back into his and worked yourself closer to your finish with a low moan, keeping your movements in time with his thrusts. The way you licked your lips and the way you watched Sebastian with a dark, fucked-out gaze made him whimper. You were so intense– your lips parting on gasping moans of Sebastian’s name– and it took a surprising amount of self-control for him to not just fucking blow it right then. Instead, he bent you back just a little further, just enough to see that needy expression fall back over your face as he fucked you just that little bit harder.

Your moans grew higher, louder, breathier, until you were crying out and shaking in Sebastian’s arms. “S-Seb– fuck– I’m coming, I’m coming–”

Your spine rounded and your eyes squeezed shut as you clamped down tight on Sebastian’s cock, a guttural whine ripping from your heaving chest as your climax washed over you. The dexterous movements from your fingers took you higher than you thought possible, and the way you barely managed to choke out Sebastian’s name was enough to send the Slytherin over the edge.

He pressed himself against you and buried his cock deep, fucking you through your finish with short, fast thrusts while he moaned your name against your throat, his hands moving to grip your sides tight with trembling fingers. “Fuck, darling, fuck–”

Blearily, you moved your arm and wrapped it around Sebastian’s neck as he came, who was shaking and babbling far too loud for it to be muffled against your slick skin. You buried your face into his tangled hair, jolting slightly from every miniscule movement of his twitching member inside of you. When the bulk of his post-coital high had subsided, he began wetly mouthing up your neck and along your jaw before sweetly peppering kisses over your cheek. The demonstration brought a breathless grin to your face, and your hands found their way to the hair at the back of his neck before you wound your fingers through the strands.

“Merlin’s bloody balls,” Sebastian gritted out, sliding his arms out from under your knees to hold them fast to his waist. You followed his lead easily and wrapped your legs around his hips, sitting up to kiss him contentedly as your palms skimmed along his freckled back. He smiled against your lips and murmured, “We should probably get out. I can feel how pruney your fingers are.”

“Mm,” you hummed softly, pulling back from the kiss to hold one of your hands up to see how wrinkled your skin had become in the throes of passion. “You’re not wrong. But it would be counterproductive to not wash off all the sweat, wouldn’t it?”

Sebastian gave you a nonplussed blink before smiling brightly at you in agreement. Almost reluctantly, he slid free from your welcoming heat and deposited you on the shallow stone ledge, then hoisted himself out of the bath to pad over to his toiletry bag. After grabbing all the necessities and jumping back into the steaming water, the two of you took your time cleansing one another, lingering touches and thoughtful kisses being exchanged throughout the process. Eventually Sebatian found himself sitting with his back to the rim of the tub, your smaller figure situated comfortably between his legs as he scooped water into his hands and let it run over your shoulders. If your slouched posture was anything to go by, you were incredibly relaxed, and Sebastian realized dimly that he was too. To be with you in this way was everything he could ever want and more, and he didn’t want it to end. Not by a longshot.

“Let me come with you after graduation,” he said suddenly, his voice a mere whisper from behind you.

Your eyes fluttered open as you processed his request, the bathroom utterly silent except for the distant dripping of water from the faucet, and before long you were turning around to face him with your hands braced on his legs. “What?”

“Let me come with you,” he said again, conviction burning in his dark eyes. “To Poland. I want to do whatever I can to help you. Please don’t leave me behind.”

All you could do was blink for a moment before opening and closing your mouth in surprise. Sebastian’s unwavering gaze only prolonged the formation of words, until eventually you furrowed your brow and uncertainty took root. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him with you– far from it, in fact. The events that had transpired just minutes earlier had only proven that your close relationship was something to treasure for as long as possible, and you were more than ready to do exactly that. You just didn’t want him to throw his own ambitions to the side simply because you planned to travel. “What about what you want to do? Don’t you have your own plans? I thought Professor Weasley talked to you about–”

“I never made a decision,” he stated firmly and with a shake of his head. “The Professor had her own ideas about what I would excel at, but I never agreed or wanted to pursue any of her suggestions. I honestly felt like I was in limbo until now. My point is, what I want is to stay with you. I want to help you the same way you helped me with Anne, and I really, really don’t want to end up sitting alone in some office in London waiting for your owls to reach me. There’s always something missing when you’re not with me.”

To say you were an emotional mess would be a monumental understatement. Sebastian’s words struck something deep within you, something sentimental and desperate to come to the surface. He evidently saw your tears before you felt them, because he was instantly sitting forward to cup your cheeks in his wet hands before wiping them away with his thumbs. The concern on his face was apparent, but you were already smiling reassuringly at him before he could verbally ask if you were alright. “You really know how to confess to a girl, huh?”

He let loose an airy, relieved laugh that drifted over your nose and chilled your damp cheeks, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrists as he smiled anxiously at you. “I had a long time to practice. Is that a yes, then?”

“Yes, you can come with me. I would love it if you did,” you said, and the giddy excitement that radiated from the man was the most palpable thing in the room at that moment. “Two heads might be better than one, after all.”

Sebastian was on you in an instant. He coiled around you like a baby mooncalf and smiled so brightly that it easily rivaled the intensity of the sun. Water splashed everywhere as he spun you effortlessly within the bath, your capricious laughter reverberating off the walls of the spacious room as elation flooded your system. Being encased in his warm embrace was all the confirmation you needed that you had made the right choice. In turn, knowing that his future was all the clearer brought a sense of peace and belonging to Sebastian that he would hold on to for as long as he was able.

It just so happened that presently, he was holding on to you.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x female!reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow oneshot #hogwarts legacy oneshot #sebastian sallow x mc #I chewed my lip off trying to finish this before I have to leave for Medieval Times #gonna go watch knights joust on horse back and drink ale out of a tankard #bye happy reading MWAH #my writing

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thestuffedalligator · 28 days ago

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The fire in the circle of stones crackled in the night.

Then — because the battle was done, because they had been travelling together for months, and because this might be their last conversation — the fighter said, “Can I ask a personal question?”

The wizard stopped writing in her notebook mid-scribble. “Uh,” she said. And — possibly because the battle was done, and because they had travelled together for months, and because this might be their last conversation — she answered, “Possibly?”

“How do you do that?”

“How do I do what?”

“That. The thing you do when you talk without moving your lips.”

“…Oh.” The wizard closed her notebook.

“Because I know it’s not telepathy,” the fighter went on. “Telepathy goes straight to the brain. You don’t hear it with your ears.”

“Right.”

“And I didn’t want to question it, because we were busy and there were more important things going on.”

“Of course.”

“But—” The fighter waved her arms vaguely to sum up the past few months. “And now that everything’s kind of settled down, I just — I have to know how you do it.”

The wizard nodded.

“So if it’s not telepathy, is it some kind of — I don’t know, sound magic? Do you manipulate the vibrations in the air? Is it something like that?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s—”

The wizard pursed her lips. Then she reached up and pulled the corner of her hood open.

A tiny, black-feathered face poked out from between her curls.

“Uh,” said the fighter.

“This is Raspberry,” said the chickadee in the wizard’s voice. “She’s my — I guess you could call her my speaking-aid familiar.”

“Oh,” said the fighter. “Oh!” she said when her brain caught up with her. “Sorry, I had no idea.”

“It’s fine,” said the chickadee — said the wizard. “I try not to let people know.”

“Well — thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The chickadee wriggled back into the shade of the wizard’s hood. The wizard turned back to her notebook.

The logs in the fire shifted with a soft, crunching noise. Sparks whorled up in a spiral.

“Sorry — can you cast spells if it’s technically someone else speaking for you?”

“It’s my words, isn’t it?” said the wizard.

#wizards #fantasy writing #ficlet #microfiction #narrativia

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 11 months ago

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Gale x Tav Kissing Headcanons

A/N: The patch 6 announcement has me back on my bullshit. I know I write a lot for Astarion, but this stupid wizard has my heart too. Here’s to hoping we get to make out with him soon.

Gale’s kisses come in stages

Obviously for a long time he’s very concerned about the orb and getting too excited, as it were

Even after the orb is stabilized and you have your first night together, some part of him thinks he’s getting away with something

The kisses shared between you are fleeting, but tender

While he adores your lips, he’ll just as happily kiss your hand or the top of your head, really any place he can reach

He wants to stay, even if it’s just the barest kiss you can sense it pains him to pull away, but you have other things to do

If he pushes his luck, maybe you’ll be the one to pull away first; he knows he can be a bit…much

The longer your together, the less hesitant he is

All he really needs is for you to pull him back into a deeper kiss a few times in a row for him to get the message

Once he has your permission, it’s nearly impossible for him to keep his hands off you

He still feels like he’s getting away with something, that at any second you’re going to realize he’s not enough or maybe the orb comes back or honestly just the daily dangers you have on your journey are going to tear you away, but instead of bracing for rejection, it just makes him hungry

He starts kissing you like it’s the end of the fucking world, but, in his defense, it kind of is

Even soft kisses come with hands cupping your face as he sharply inhaled your scent

He also can’t help but steal a few more, as if making up for lost time

Kisses after a fight are positively indecent

We already know he gets horny, but knowing he can touch you after makes him practically vibrate

He has enough self control to wait until your properly healed and back at camp, but not enough to wait until after you bath before he’s pulling your some place private and kissing the air right out of your lungs

That’s not to say every kiss leads to something more, only that he’s less reserved in putting all his love and adoration into every touch

He worships you, let him worship you

The feeling can be addicting, but it’s also something you might need to work on with him

Everybody wants to be loved, but being truly in love you need to be a partner, not a goddess on a pedestal

Your mortal and so is he, you don’t need worship, you just need him

And when he finally gets that into his thick skull you find him kissing you in all new ways

Without the threat of the Elder Brain or the crown, Gale finally feels like he has time

He still can’t keep his hands off you, but there is a warm security in it

He’s not afraid your going to pull away

He can kiss you slowly, savor the taste as he smiles against your lips

He can tease you and know you’ll just laugh and pull him back again

His finds he loves kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck as he simply holds you from behind for no other reason than because he can

Even when he finds himself distracted by grading papers or some new discovery, he’ll reach out for your hand, bringing it to his lips to make sure you know he knows your there

He starts to plan his mornings allowing for at least an extra fifteen minutes to get out of bed because how can he be expected to get anything done before he’s properly kissed you awake

Maybe things will teeter off later down the line, his colleagues have teased him more than once about the honeymoon phase

But even years down the line, he can’t see himself slowing down

Honestly the fact that it’s expected for people to be less in love with their spouse after their married is something he can’t find himself ever understanding (skill issue)

He doesn’t kiss you like it’s the end of the world, he kisses you like the world is going to keep on spinning, that time is going to keep moving forward and the best way he knows how to spend it is with you

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale #bg3 gale #gale x tav #gale dekarios x tav #gale of waterdeep x tav #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #gale x reader #gale dekarios x reader #gale headcanons

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ace-turned-confused · 6 months ago

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seashells & sandcastles | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist

summary: weekend break in full swing, you spend the day “relaxing” with joel word count: 5,3k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied / wears a bikini & a dress / can swim, Joel picks up & carries reader but Joel = huge big strong man so he can carry anyone (fight me if you disagree), pet names, unspecified age gap, food & alcohol consumption, parents getting tipsy, smut, super duper explicit grinding (?), public fingering, unprotected p in v, come eating, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, pussy pronouns huzzah!, praise kink, size kink a/n: so........... sea spray was just a silly little oneshot that now has over 1k notes which is actually insane????? actually cried about that btw but anyways i cannot thank everyone enough for all the kind words 🥹 this follows on from where we left off, but could be read on its own :) big thanks to @morallyinept for helping me with some of the warnings 💗 idk how some of this got in here guys i swear and special thanks to my bestie for calling me a wizard and always screaming with me, love you so much 🕺🏻 not beta'd, have fun 😇

Drifting in and out of sleep just as the sun starts filtering through the curtains, the distant sound of rolling waves and the rich smell of the sea air floats through the window. In the back of your mind, you register the sturdy frame behind you, the arm draped over your waist, the heft pressed against your ass. With the sheet bundled up in your arms and barely covering you, the air in the room is stifling, even with the fan blowing — only you can’t blame the summer temperatures for the heat crawling under your bare skin and settling between your legs.

By the time you wake completely, the arm over you is held tight and the heft against you is hot and hard, poking into you. Your memory comes back to you and that's when you realise — you’ve slept with Joel Miller. You know, dad’s best friend Joel Miller. You’re not sure what good will come from this, but he’s still in your bed the morning after, so that must be a plus — right?

With steady breaths being puffed against your neck, you shift around and slowly grind yourself back into him, your eyes fluttering closed and quiet whimpers falling from your lips. His arm around you tightens even further, pulling you into him and he starts rutting against you, still sound asleep. Reaching between your legs, you drag your fingers through your folds, the inside of your thighs slippery and wet as you rub them together.

You reach behind your back and feel for him. You were rendered speechless seeing the size of him last night, air taken from your lungs at how impossibly full you were and he feels just the same now as you touch him for the first time — a fair gap between your fingers and thumb as you try to wrap your hand around his girth, beads of precome starting to pearl as you brush your thumb over his tip.

Joel keeps mindlessly grinding himself against you as you take a finger to your clit, drawing in tight, steady circles. You push yourself into him more forcefully, soft moans gradually getting louder. You could just finish the job yourself, but why do that when you could have Joel do it instead.

“Joel?” It comes out breathy, your voice still raspy from sleep. He doesn’t respond, and you pull your hand from between your legs to grip his hip behind you. You shake him as best you can, fingers digging into his skin and he murmurs.

“Joel.” Twisting your torso to look at him, you drag your hand up his side to shake him more vigorously — his eyes finally flit open and he grumbles a good morning.

“Need you, Joel.”

“Already got me, ‘m right here.”

He grinds himself into you one more time and pushes your leg up and away from him, revealing your glistening cunt to his eyes. He drags his fingers through you, coating his fingers before taking his cock in his hand, stroking your slick up and down his length.

“Barely woken up and you’re already all needy, huh? S’what happens when you get fucked real good.”

Guiding you with a hand on your hip, he pulls you back to press his cock against you, slipping himself between your folds. He moves your leg back into place, holding himself in the wet heat between your thighs and starts thrusting, the fat head of him just catching on your entrance but never pushing in. You gasp and clench around nothing, feeling painfully empty.

“You’re gonna come just like this.”

“Joel-“

“Don’t wanna hear any complaints. You be good and come for me like this, then maybe I’ll give you what you want and fuck you nice ‘n hard later. Understand?”

You whine back at him, eyes falling closed and he snakes a hand around you, holding two fingers on your clit and he stops moving.

“Understand?”

“Yes, yes I understand.” You nod frantically and he resumes his movements, fingers swirling round and round, cock dragging against you.

Just before you start unravelling, a loud knock sounds from your door and Joel slows his hips to an agonising pace.

“Hey kiddo, you up?” Your dad’s voice is muffled and you see the door handle start to turn.

“DON’T-“ You’re shouting back at him before you can even think. “I’m getting dressed, Dad! I’m, uh… I’m up.”

You pray your voice comes across more steady through the door than it sounded to your own ears. It was bad enough that you were nearly caught palming the bulge in Joel’s shorts the night before, but this…

The handle snaps back up and you glance around with a sigh of relief, really taking the two of you in for the first time this morning: bodies moulded to one another, damp and sticky with sweat, Joel’s throbbing cock sliding along your cunt, fingers pressed firmly into your clit, your thighs a mess of precome and slick that’s been dripping out of you since before you even woke up.

Tightening your jaw and breathing hard through your nose, you knock your head back into Joel’s to hold back a moan as you clench down again.

“Your mom and I are heading out, you wanna come?”

Joel actually snorts at that and you whip your head around to glare at him, his eyes dark and a sly smirk on his face.

“Um, no, thanks. I’ll stay here.”

“Okay, see you later. Looks like Joel must’ve headed out for a walk, will you let him know we’ve gone when you see him?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Alright, you have fun.”

His footsteps fade off, the front door closing with a click and Joel takes your jaw in his hand, pulling you to look at him. You can smell yourself on his fingers, and feel him leaving cold, wet fingerprints on your cheeks.

“You having fun?” Joel punches forward more forcefully this time, the tip of his cock knocking into your clit. Your mouth falls open at the feeling, nodding your head as best you can.

“Asked you a question,” he whispers to you, squeezing his fingers into you.

“Yes, Joel.” You smile elatedly and he huffs a laugh at you.

“You wanna come for me?”

“Oh, please, yes please.”

Letting go of your jaw, he presses his fingers into your clit again, gliding between your folds at a steady pace. What was sea air has been replaced with the smell of Joel and sex, his thick fingers and heavy cock and deep, gravelly voice are hurtling you to your end in record time.

“Never felt a pussy as drenched as this one. Bet I could slip right in her like it’s nothing.”

You’re still twisted around to watch him, and he pulls back to watch where he disappears into you, over and over again.

“Feels like heaven, baby. Looks like it too, fuck me.”

He snaps his hips into you repeatedly, taking your hand in his and replacing his fingers on your clit with your own, flicking them over the swollen bud.

“Come on sweetheart. Soon as you come I’m going right with you.”

And you do — thighs tightening around him and hips jerking, a high-pitched whine coming from the back of your throat. He holds your hand in place and comes after a few more thrusts, spilling into the tight space between your legs. You feel it pool between your folds, seeping down your thighs and he forces your fingers apart, coating your hand in his spend.

Lifting your hand to your face, he shoves both your own and his fingers into your mouth.

“I got to taste you, now you get to taste me.”

If you weren’t still trembling with aftershocks you might’ve come again from the sheer depravity of it all.

Joel pulls his hand from your mouth and turns you to face him, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy exchange of tongues and spit and his come.

“You okay?” Breaking away from you, he tugs the sheet up to wipe your mouth, followed by his own.

“Am I okay? Jesus, Joel.” You laugh and burrow your face into the pillow, completely fucked out and you haven’t even had breakfast.

He cradles the back of your head, planting a gentle kiss on your temple and you can feel him smiling into you.

“Go shower, we’re heading for the beach today, remember? Plus, your dad said to have fun, and I’m gonna make sure you do.”

He traces a hand down your body, pushing himself off the bed and stretching with a groan. You could easily drift off to sleep again, but spending the day alone with Joel, free from your parents? That’s better than any dream you could have.

Joel can’t remember the last time he had a break like this — summer sun, bottomless drinks, the serenity of the sea. It’s off-season and the beach isn’t too crowded. Lounging back in his fold-out chair, he watches — a father and son excavating trenches and building up sandy defence walls, a little girl carving patterns with the end of her spade, an elderly couple strolling hand in hand just where the water breaks, seagulls nip at each other over old sandwich crusts, and a handful of surfers are far out in the waves.

With the sea ahead of him and the mountains behind, he could easily get used to this: friendly faces, quiet chatter, and hearty laughter all around; peace and stillness as far as the eye can see — and then there’s you.

You haven’t sat down for longer than five minutes the whole time. Zig-zagging along where the water washes over your feet, you crouch down every few steps to dig around in the sand, collecting an array of shells, pebbles, and glass smoothed by the everlasting waves. You’ve already been back twice to empty your shorts pockets, only to venture out again to continue your search. Every so often you look back at him to flash a smile, hand in the sky to shield yourself from the sun.

On your third trip back to unload your findings you stand, hands on your hips to inspect your haul.

“What you gonna do with all this?” He asks as you finish scattering everything out on your towel.

“Dunno, I just like picking them up.” You take a pebble in hand, smoothing your fingers over its surface.

“And how you gettin’ it all home?”

You lift your head to look at him, perching your sunglasses on your head and squinting in the sun.

“Don’t your shorts have pockets too?” You grin and he shakes his head, turning his attention to his unopened book.

“You brought a book?” Your voice is laced with disbelief, and he draws his eyes back to you again.

“Didn’t come here just to drool over you all day, believe it or not.”

“I’m sure you could multitask. Come on, you’re seriously not gonna swim or anything?”

“And who’s gonna guard these ancient artifacts of yours? I’m sure there’s some real rare finds here, sweetheart.” He raises his eyebrows as he leans over to look at everything.

“‘Ancient artifacts’ my ass, it’s a heap of fucking rocks and glass Joel, come on.” You hold your hand out in waiting, scoffing when he doesn’t move to get up.

“Fine, if you’re not gonna come with me then at least put more sunscreen on my back.” You pull your shorts down, rounding the towel to stop before him.

As he starts to stand up, you drop down to your knees, eyes locked on his and a cheeky grin spreads across your face as you sink into the sand, head levelled perfectly with his crotch. You lean to the side, a hand planted on his covered thigh to steady yourself while you rummage through your bags, and all moral thoughts flee his mind.

“You’re real trouble, sweetheart.” You ignore his comment and stand, handing him the bottle and turning your back to him.

He starts below the nape of your neck and you jerk forward, muscles in your back tensing briefly from the stark cold sensation. Palms massaging between your shoulder blades, you soon relax and lean into his touch and he lifts each strap of your bikini top, letting them snap back against your skin once the area is covered.

Moving further down your back, he pushes his hands under the band of your bikini top, curling them around your body until his fingers brush against the supple skin of the sides of your breasts, your breath catching just so.

Leaning in close behind you, he lowers his voice right into your ear, “You just wanted my hands on you.”

He smirks to himself and withdraws his hands, dragging his palms down your sides and sneaking his fingers under your waistband, squeezing your soft, unsunned skin. Part of him wishes you were somewhere secluded, where he could just take them right off, but working you up and fogging your mind is far more rewarding.

Glancing around, the few other people on the beach are well occupied — he grips your hip with one hand and twists the other around to your front, dipping down to cup you entirely.

“Joel…” You say in warning, but he knows it’s an empty threat.

“What, you can tease me but I can’t do the same? Seems a little unfair, sweetheart.”

He applies pressure on your clit with the heel of his palm and you try angling your hips, chasing any relief you can find. Curling his fingers into your heat, he confirms his suspicions.

“Thought this morning you were just bein’ needy, but this pussy’s always drooling for me, isn’t she?”

You whine at that, already sounding desperate and you push your head back against his chest.

“Please, Joel.”

“Please what? What you want, baby?”

“Want you.”

“Wrong answer.” He keeps his hand steady between your legs, fingers just prodding at your entrance and you try to press your thighs together. “Tell me what you want.”

“I…” Your voice trails off to near silence before you can get the words out, and you turn your head to the side, trying to burrow yourself into him.

“Don’t waste my time, sweetheart. Either tell me, or you’re gettin’ nothing at all.”

“Want your fingers. Please Joel, wanna come on your fingers.”

“Good girl, that wasn't so hard.”

Finally pushing two fingers into you, you’re already pulsing around him. Your mouth hangs open, a strained moan slipping out.

“Only doing this if you keep quiet, or this whole beach is gonna know I’m knuckle deep in this tight cunt.”

You whine again but close your mouth and nod. It seems you really are trying your best to be good — either that or you’re so desperate you’ll do anything. Joel keeps watch of your surroundings, knowing you won’t keep your eyes open — or stay alert — long enough to do it yourself.

Pumping his fingers in and out, in and out, you’re sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, hands gripping his arms to keep yourself upright, small whimpers sounding from the back of your throat. He can feel how close you are, walls fluttering around him, but you’re tense, maybe unable to let go in fear of being caught.

He’s a fast learner, though, and already knows that his words alone are enough to give you that final push.

“Nobody’s gonna see you, sweetheart, been keepin’ watch the whole time. You been such a good girl for me, keepin’ so quiet.”

You clench around him more forcefully — he knows he’s heading in the right direction and curls his fingers into you, pressing that same delicious spot he found so easily the night before.

“That feel good? Know my fingers are so much bigger than your own. Bet it’s not as nice as my cock, though, huh? Had you completely stretched out, took me so well.”

Your chest is heaving as you hold yourself back, thighs trembling and he knows you’re impossibly close.

“You’ve been so good for me, ‘m gonna fill you up again tonight — I’m gonna fuck ya nice ‘n hard, just like I promised. You can be as loud as you want, wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make.”

That does it. Nails digging into his skin, you cross your knees and squeeze your thighs tightly, face screwed up as you come around him and soak your bottoms. He keeps whispering praises to you, pulling his sticky fingers from you when you still and lean your weight against him. Wrapping his arms around you, he holds you upright until you’re ready to stand by yourself.

When he notices you’re sound of mind again, he turns you in his arms, hands resting on your waist.

“How ‘bout that swim you wanted?”

You huff through your nose, a small smile on your face as you throw your head forward, knocking into his chest. He bends his knees as he tightens his grip on you, lifting you up and practically throwing you over his shoulder. You shriek with laughter, your fists landing in playful punches on his back and feet kicking in the air as he marches towards the water.

Placing you down on your feet again, he doesn’t give you time to scold him and seals his mouth to yours, one hand pulling you into him by the small of your back, the other cradling your cheek. For the first time, he notices how the softness of your skin elsewhere carries over into your lips, and you hang your arms over his shoulders, fingers threading gently through his curls. Considering all the time he’s spent with you has been frankly pornographic, this kiss in contrast is surprisingly pure.

Pulling back from you, your eyes are warm as you stare up at him. Taking a hand in his, he laces your fingers together and starts walking, pulling you into the gentle waves.

After your… escapades on the beach, you and Joel spent the afternoon winding your way through town — perusing all the tucked-away shops filled with antiques and random nick-nacks, stopping for ice cream, Joel taking your photo for you to send to friends. You insisted on taking one of him too, promising you’d be the only one to see it.

He’s been casually handsy since you left the beach — crossing the street hand in hand, guiding you by the small of your back, that same hand drifting down to rest on your backside.

A few repulsed glances were shot in your direction whenever he had his hands on you for too long, and rather than back off, he only made it more obvious — pulling your body into his, his hands groping the nearest stretch of skin, a kiss lasting far too long to be publicly decent. With a constant smirk on his face, you reckon he was rather proud of himself for getting you flustered and pissing off the townsfolk even further.

It’s almost disconcerting how easy things are. You’re not used to feeling so laid back, not worrying about making a fool of yourself, not caring about the looks you’ve been getting.

You’re making your way down a quiet side street when Joel’s phone rings from his pocket.

“Hello?”

He shifts his weight to one leg, a hand on his hip with his lax knee popping out to the side.

“Yeah, we’re just walking through town.” He looks at you, mischief in his eyes as the corner of his mouth lifts in a skew smile.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. We’ll see you soon.”

Joel says his goodbyes, dropping his phone back into his pocket. Taking his place by your side again, he drapes an arm around your shoulders as you resume your journey.

“So?” You look up at him, face framed beautifully by the late afternoon sun — skin glowing, curls tousled by the salty air, eyes crinkling at the corners as he turns to look down at you.

“Was your dad — he just wanted to know where we were.” His grin only spreads wider as you make your way down the street. “He told me I didn’t have to do all this, that you’re a big girl who doesn’t need to be taken care of. Said I should take some time for myself, relax a little.”

You realise then that, much to your annoyance, your dad does have a point — Joel hasn’t relaxed at all, he’s spent almost every hour together with you. Not to mention he’s barely seen your dad, the man who invited him to begin with.

“Oh… I mean, he is right. I’m sure you came here for a nice break, and you haven’t actually had a moment on your own.”

“Sweetheart, this is the most relaxed I’ve been in years, thanks to you.” He plants a kiss to the top of your head and you feel warm at his words.

“I just thought it’s funny what your old man said about you — that’s the one thing you do need, right baby? Just need someone to take care of ya.”

You’re scared to admit it, but Joel really has taken care of you — in more ways than one. You decide not to fret about what’ll happen after this weekend — you can still enjoy the rest of your time here and whatever Joel has in store for after dark.

Upon arriving home, your dad had asked what you and Joel got up to — Joel stayed tight-lipped and you managed to keep your voice level as you recounted the day’s happenings, minus the obscenities. Your dad mentioned that he and your mom had also gone into town, curious that they didn’t bump into you — you’d brushed it off as just missing each other, and thank God for that.

With all the concerned looks you’d received throughout the afternoon, it never crossed your mind that they could’ve come from your own parents, too. You’ve had two close calls now and your luck is bound to run out at some point. You cringe at the thought of your dad finding out about this whole situation — his best friend sleeping with his daughter, his daughter sleeping with his best friend. You’re not sure which version would horrify him more.

You gave him a tight smile in an attempt to cut the conversation short, walking off to your room to avoid further interrogation.

You’d been looking forward to dinner though, but when Joel approached the table, he sat down across from you, leaving your mom to take up the chair next to you. You’d twitched your eyebrows in questioning, but all he gave you was a slight nod of his head.

You thought back to last night — with Joel sitting beside you, you’d tested him and in return, he fucked you better than anyone before. You were keen on trying to push him again, but the added obstacle of the extra distance tonight would’ve made it far more risky.

Throughout dinner he made sure your parents' glasses were never empty, sending you a wink and a slanted smile with each pour as they became more and more carefree, his free hand caressing your back every time he rounded the table.

You’re not usually one to back down from a challenge, especially now that Joel is involved, but you suspected you wouldn’t need to tease him anymore to get what you wanted.

With dinner over and your parents having blissfully stumbled to their room, you now find yourself pinned against the countertop with Joel mouthing kisses along your neck. You’d told your parents you would handle the dishes, but you doubt you’ll even get a start on that.

“Y’know, I’m surprised you didn’t try anything funny under the table tonight.” Joel’s hands roam all over you as he nuzzles up against your jaw.

“I thought about it, but someone made it rather difficult.”

“Yeah well, you were enough of a brat last night, ‘bout time you started behaving.”

“Seemed to me you rather liked it.”

You’re smiling to yourself when you feel his hand smack down on your ass and you yelp, your dress barely doing anything to soften the blow.

“Seems to me that you quite like bein’ punished. Now, I do enjoy puttin’ you in your place, but it’s nice when you’re a good girl and I can reward you instead. You’re all dressed up too, you put on this pretty dress for me?”

Gripping the counter’s edge, you drop your head as he lifts your dress around your waist and holds it against your back. He pushes himself into you until you’re flush with the cool granite top, held down underneath him. He smacks down again and you’ve already soaked through your panties.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, you should know this by now. Been good all night, don’t start actin’ up now.”

“Yes…” You’re met with silence, Joel unmoving on top of you — that wasn’t a good enough response. “I wore it for you.”

“Looks real nice, pretty dress for my pretty girl.”

He lifts his chest off of you, pressing a hand between your shoulder blades as he stands. Trailing his hands down your back, he tightens his grip when reaching your hips again, grinding himself into your core. A small gasp falls from your lips and he chuckles as you try pressing your legs together.

He hooks a finger under the gusset of your panties and pulls them to one side, tracing over the lips of your pussy as gently as possible, kneading your ass to spread you open — that and the cool, late-night air coats his finger in a fresh wave of arousal.

“All weepin’ and I’ve barely touched her.”

You’re whining at his words, on the verge of begging him to do something, anything to relieve you. He pulls your panties off completely, dropping them to your ankles and he pulls loose the tie of his shorts.

“Joel?” You prop yourself up on your elbows, turning your head to look at him.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You alright?” He rests a hand on you, thumb drawing soft circles into the swell of your ass, concern in his eyes.

“Are we not, uh… not going to bed?”

His eyes turn almost black as all traces of worry fly out the window, lips parted as he ticks his jaw to the side.

“Had no problem with me finger fuckin’ you on the beach, but now you wanna hide away again? What, you scared your old man’s gonna open his door and see his little girl gettin’ railed within an inch of her life? And by his own best friend, of all people.”

That really shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, even more arousal seeping out of you and trickling down the inside of your thighs. Joel lays his fingers flat and wipes his hand up through you before slapping you hard and leaving a burning, sticky handprint on your ass — you buck your hips back into him, letting out a strangled moan.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

His shorts rustle as he shifts them down his thighs, and he swipes his hand up your cunt a second time, spreading his fingers and coating them in slick. You can hear how he takes hold of his length, the room filled with your heavy breathing and the lewd sounds of Joel stroking himself with his sticky hand.

He just slips into you and grabs you by the upper arms to pull you up into his chest, your back arching. He grunts as he thrusts up into you and bottoms out in one swift motion, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you cry out, Joel taking up all empty space inside of you, your clit aching from lack of attention.

“You remember what I told you? Wanna hear what pretty noises you can make.” Joel pries your hand away, keeping it in his own as he takes hold of your hip, his other hand moving to your shoulder. “And before you argue, your parents ain’t wakin’ up any time soon baby — you saw ‘em heading off.”

He pulls out to his tip devastatingly slowly and knocks back into you, repeating the same rhythm over and over — you can feel every ridge, vein, and inch of him. Your eyes are pinched shut and your brow knitted, a choked moan sounding out from the back of your throat with each movement.

“Still just as tight as last night, even after bein’ stretched so wide.”

“Mmh, Joel…”

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbles into you, lips pressed into your skin.

“Please touch me, please Joel, wanna come.”

“Greedy, are we? Pussy’s stuffed full and she still wants more.” Taking half a step back, he pulls you away from the counter’s edge and removes his hand from your shoulder. “Askin’ so nicely though, really are bein’ such a good girl for me.”

He feels down between your legs and parts his fingers around where he splits you open, wetting them in your creamy slick that coats his cock before reaching around to your front and pressing them into your clit. Your hips jerk as he starts swirling his fingers, still withdrawing slowly and thrusting into you hard — you’re so worked up and sensitive that you’re coming already.

“Ohh, fuck, Joel!” you shout out, clamping down on him, your legs shaking as you struggle to keep yourself standing.

“Good girl, come on now, let it out.” He keeps the same pace in both hand and hips as he works you through it. You whine, face contorted and body writhing in pleasure.

Joe eventually stills inside you as you come down from your high, wrapping his arms around you to hold you against him.

“You ever felt so good, sweetheart?”

“No.” You shake your head haphazardly, still breathless, but you want to see if you can drive him as crazy as he does you. “Never had a cock as big as yours, Joel. Never been so full.”

You feel him twitch inside of you and you break out into a wide grin.

Hand taking ahold of your shoulder once again and readjusting his grip on your hip, he starts slamming his hips into yours, the force of his movements jolting you forward as unabashed moans start falling from your mouth again.

“Never knew you had such a dirty mouth, baby. Definitely ruined this cunt for anyone else, nobody’s gonna make her come like I can. Stretched her so well that anyone else just ain’t gonna do the job.”

Last night was supposedly a punishment, Joel setting you straight after you’d teased him, but this? This feels like you’re being used, having Joel just take what he wants and God do you love it.

“Please come inside me, Joel — wanna be full of your come, want it dripping out of me while I fall asleep.”

It seems like your words work just as well as Joel’s — he pistons into you a handful of times before he erupts, groaning as he empties himself inside of you. He withdraws slightly just to push back in again, working himself even deeper into you, head falling to rest on your back as he folds on top of you.

His hands rub all over your body as he catches his breath, lazy kisses being dotted all over your back and neck. Pulling out of you, Joel grunts and you whimper at the feeling, he crouches down to pull your panties up off the floor, now ruined even further as you feel him start to leak out of you and soak into the already wet cotton.

He turns you to face him, hands cradling your head as he leans to kiss you, the same kind of kiss as earlier on the beach — not driven by lust or need but something real.

“Come on, now let’s go to bed.”

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut

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annabelinlove · 10 months ago

Text

No Games

Pairing: Wolfstar x reader (Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader)

Summary: You were injured by some Slytherins and the boys worry for you.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: angst, description of violence, language, Snape is a dick, English isn’t my first language, Peter doesn’t exist in this, lmk if I missed any

Being a muggle born never really bothered you. You loved your parents, and you were glad for the childhood you had. They were really surprised when you had gotten your letter but were supportive nevertheless. They didn’t understand your new world and even though they were happy for you, they never cared to learn more about it. Part of you was bothered about it, because living in two different worlds, yet still trying to communicate, was hard. You drifted apart and whenever you visited during the breaks, they never wanted to hear about your school year or the magical world. It was usually awkward and uncomfortable, but you still loved them dearly and knew they loved you. You weren’t ashamed of your parents and defended them any chance you got.

Your first year was pretty hard. Not only were you getting used to this whole new world you were suddenly thrown into, but you’ve also learned the hard way, that being a muggle born was viewed as a bad thing. Being called worthless, stain on the wizarding world and mudblood were suddenly a daily occurrence. Thankfully, being sorted into Gryffindor led you to meet some amazing people and become best friends with Lily Evans. You tried to get through it together and it was suddenly much easier to have someone who understood you. You’ve befriended the Marauders as well and since the start of the second year, you were inseparable. Lily had some apprehension at the beginning, since James Potter was an ‘arrogant toerag’ in her words, but you’ve helped her realize, that there was much more then mischief in the boys. It didn’t take long for you to develop feelings for two of the troublemakers. There was just something about Sirius Black and Remus Lupin that made you fall, and you fell hard. You still remembered the conversation with Lily, where you revealed your feeling by accident. It was soon after Sirius and Remus started dating.

“I don’t get how the two of them could be together! Don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy for them and I hope they’ll be happy but they’re just... they’re so different!” Lily told you drunkenly at one of the famous Gryffindor parties, looking at the couple snogging in the middle of the made-up dance floor.

“And that’s the beauty of it, you know? When Sirius is hotheaded, Remus is there to calm him down and where Remus is reserved, Sirius helps him get out of his shelf. They’re two sides of the same coin,” you defended them fiercely. Seeing them like that made you so happy, but the darker side of you was jealous, wishing you could be part of it.

“I kinda wish a coin had three sides, you know? Can you imagine how amazing that would be?” You said without thinking, gaze fixed on the two boys. Lily shot you a confused look.

“A coin with three sides? How would that even look? And what kind of shape would it have to have? Why would you want a three-sided coin?” Her confusion was not only in her eyes, but you could also detect it in her voice as well. You just rolled your eyes at her oblivion.

“I don’t want a three-sided coin Lily, I wanna be part of their relationship. How you’re on top of every class, I have no idea.”

The memory always made you smile. And your wish came true. Not long after your conversation with Lily, even though it felt like years for you, you became a part of the relationship. It was quite complicated at the beginning, you were no stranger to dating, but dating not only two boys but two Golden boys of Hogwarts was no easy task. But you’ve happily settled and after some long conversations, when you all tried to figure out, you were as happy as you could ever be.

Your sixth year was however when things turned complicated once again. The war raging outside the walls of the castle was taking a tool on you. You were constantly worried about the safety of your family as well as your own. It was no secret that you had muggle parents, which made you a target at the school as well. Every time you saw some Slytherins, mostly Snape with Malfoy and Mulciber, you were called names and even hexed multiple times. But it wasn’t only you, every muggle born was treated like that, which didn’t make it better, yet it seemed like you were the biggest target, wether it was because of your connection and close friendship with the Marauders, the constant pranks you pulled on them or the fact, that you always fought back and never let them get away with it. You had many serious talks with Lily about this topic. She tried to tell you to take it easy and ignore them like she did, and they’d get bored of it soon. You never had the heart to tell her, that the reason the boys didn’t target her as much was because Severus still had feelings for her, even after their falling-out, and threatened other Slytherins to take it easy on her.

“Why did you do that?” Lily asked you as you laid on your bed with a pack of ice on your face that still stung from the hex they threw at you.

“You mean why did I turned them into snakes? Because that’s what they fucking are Lily. I can’t juste let them call me names and walk away. Plus, they started it,” you said tiredly, the headache making you nauseous.

“But you could! If you had just ignored them, you wouldn’t have been hurt and in detention” she tried once again “that’s what I do, just walk away. So what if the call us mudbloods, its not like its harmful anymore.”

“But its not about the name calling. They’re fucking death eaters and acting like they’re better than us, but they’re not! It’s about the principle. You can’t do something bad and not get punished for it.” The conversation was almost identical to the one you’ve had many times in the past.

“Well, at least you’ve answered your question why you have to go to detention for the following week,” Lily sighed and went to change you ice pack.

The boys tried their best to protect you, they always made sure that at least one of them was with you. Wether it was in library with Remus, quidditch with James, the kitchen with Sirius or at least one of them walking you to every class and the Great Hall. They never talked to you about it, but you knew what they were doing, and the thoughtfulness warmed your heart. But they couldn’t be with you every second of the day no matter how much you wanted them to or how much they tried. That’s how you found yourself walking to your common room late at night after another detention with McGonagall.

“I’m sorry, you did what?!” Remus shrieked, staring at you in disbelief.

“I set Snivellus on fire. I mean, just his robes,” you mumbled sheepishly. Your boyfriends stared at you with mixed amazement and incredulity. James bursted into laughter.

“How come we never thought of that?” He said between laughter.

“Pff, don’t encourage her Prongs or she’ll think it was a good idea and will do something analogously stupid.” Your scarred boyfriend scoffed, but the corner of his mouth twitching.

“And what was I supposed to do? Let him torture the poor second year and just walk away?” You tried to defend your actions, slowly getting worked up.

“That’s not what he meant, pet. We just want you to be careful. Moony means well, he’s scared, just like the rest of us. They’re getting bolder and bolder. We’re proud of you for defending the kid, aren’t we, Moons?” Sirius finally joined the conversation, trying to calm you all down. He pulled you into his arms, kissing your head. Remus sighed and took your face into his hands, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Of course I’m proud, you're our brave girl, darling. Just don’t wanna see you hurt.” And with those words he kissed you deeply.

Walking down the dark and empty corridor, you tried not to think about the sickening smell you’ve been inhaling for the least couple of hours. Professor McGonagall made you wash one of the dirty bathrooms without magic as your punishment. You were disgusted with the Hogwarts students and the mess they could make. So lost in your own head, you didn’t even hear the steps of people behind you. Not until it was too late anyway.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” Said the voice behind you that belonged to no other then Severus Snape. Before you could even pull out your wand, it flew out of your hands with a simple Expelliarmus from Mulciber, whom you just noticed standing behind Snape.

“I’m not in a mood for your games Snivellus,” you snapped at him, already tired from the day you had.

“Oh, trust me, this is no game,” he threatened, smiling at you maliciously. You wanted to punch him so hard.

“What are you even doing here, aren’t you supposed to be at the infirmary? Those burns looked pretty nasty earlier.” His smile disappeared and something much more dangerous appeaed on his face.

“You’re gonna pay for that, you stupid bitch,” he sneered at you. Your fight or flight instincts kicked in and you moved to him with the intention to rip his head off his body. But before you could take more than few steps, he hit you with a Petrificus Totalus spell. You tried to mask your panic when you realized you could possibly be in an immense danger without your wand and the ability to move with two deatheaters, who loathed you. The grin Snape and Mulciber gave you was a sign of how much of a shit job you did to hide your emotions.

“Not so brave now, are you, mudblood?” Mulciber gave you a sickening smirk. You could see nothing but madness in his eyes. They started to circle around you, eyeing you like predators wanting to hurt their prey. You watched them carefully, waiting for their next move.

“Not in a mood for games, did you say? What a shame because I’m ready to play,” said Mulciber before casting a Flipendo and suddenly, you were upside down, your head hitting the floor. You wanted to do something, protect yourself, scream for help, but you were powerless, unable to do any of the things you wanted to.

“I feel like it’d be much more fun if she didn’t see us, don’t you agree?” He asked Severus who chuckled and nodded.

“For once, I must agree with you. Obscurs!” And all of a sudden you were blindfold, your panic rising. You had no idea what they had planned for you, but were sure it was nothing pleasant. Everything went pretty hazy after they hit you with the Confundus charm. The two deatheaters were taking turns hexing you. They made you slowly bleed and ache, but they haven’t done anything terrible to really harm you, which somehow made you even more nervous. They were slowly becoming more and more harmful with their hexes, causing you more pain. Until they grew bored of the wand work. You were thrown on the floor, all spells lifted from you, and you thought it was finally over before you were harshly kicked into the stomach. You could hear them laughing as they continued to hit you and kick you around the cold floor. They’ve caused you more then enough harm. You were bleeding from various places and was more than sure that you had a few broken bones as well as a concussion from them throwing you around like a ragdoll. Your foggy brain couldn’t comprehend all that was happening. Both of them suddenly stopped and quietned down as you tried to crawl away from them. The silence was broken with a shout.

“Crucio!” Yelled one of the boys. You couldn’t care less which one, as you were hit with an immense pain. You were on the floor, whirling in pain. You trashed on the ground, somehow in hopes off gettin rid of the pain, but all in vain. You tried to let out a scream, but you weren’t sure if you did because you couldn’t hear anything but their laughter. The curse was lifted and you sucked a breath of air into your lungs, or at least you tried to. You didn’t have time to even move before they’ve casted the curse again. And again and again. You felt like your insides were being twisted and ripped out of you. At that point, you just wanted them to kill you. You didn’t know how much time has passed, before Snape leaned over you.

“You’ll learn where your place is. You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as we do, mugblood. Let this be your lesson. Hopefully one you’ll remember until your pathetic life ends. Which may not be that long, now that I think about it.” You didn’t even notice that the curse wasn’t on you anymore. You couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t do anything then whisper a pathetic please, hoping your suffering would end soon. He just smirked at you and looked like he wanted to say something else, but Mulciber beat him to it, shouting Crucio once again. There was nothing you could do than just to take it while begging them to stop. You were slipping into unconsciousness, the pain being too much. You couldn’t even tell the difference between being under the curse and not because all you could feel was agony. You thought you heard someone shouting, but it may have just been a hallucination. Opening your eyes, you could make out a silhouette of someone else coming and you were praying to Merlin it wasn’t Malfoy wanting to join in on all the ‘fun’. To your surprise you saw, or at least thought you did, Snape and Mulciber running away, but not before the last curse Snape sent your way. Sectumsempra were the last words of Severus Snape, before he took of, disappearing in the darkness. You realized; you didn’t know pain until now. Your body was on fire and instead of drawing in a breath, you coughed out blood.

“Hey, hey, can you hear me?” Somebody was leaning over you, but you couldn’t make out who it was.

“It’s okay now, please just try to breathe. You’re safe, you’re safe.” Those were the last words before the darkness took over you.

“Lay her here, carefully! And quickly, sent for Dumbledore!”

“I don’t know what to do, I’ve never dealt with something like this.”

“Just hold on, it’s gonna be okay.”

“What the fuck happened?!” “You can’t be here right now, mister Black.”

“This is gonna hurt, dear. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re safe now, my love. I’m never gonna let anything like that happen to you. I swear on my life.”

“What the hell do you mean, they’re not gonna be punished?!” “We are not discussing this topic with you, mister Lupin.” “They can’t just walk away, have you seen what they’ve done to her? She’s fucking dying!” “Enough Remus, please.”

“Please, wake up. I know it’s selfish of me to ask this, considering everything that happened, but please, I really need you to wake up.”

You kept slipping in an out of consciousness, hearing bits and peaces of the conversations happening around you, but the darkness has always won and took you under.

The first thing you felt was something wet on your hand. You tried to open your eyes, but even such easy task seemed like something impossible. You tried to move, but it was like you were under the binding curse all over again. After much effort, you were able to open your eyes very slowly. The bright light made you blink a couple of times, but you were able to recognize your surroundings. The hospital wing. You wanted to sit up, but the pain suddenly consumed you like a tsunami, and a groan tore itself out of your throat.

“You’re awake!” Said a quiet voice. Your eyes met Lily’s beautiful green ones. Tears rolled down her cheeks and the realization that you’ve felt her tears on your hand hit you. You tried to open your mouth to say something, but your throat felt like sandpaper and nothing came out.

“Shh, don’t say anything, its okay. Here, try to drink some water instead.” She handed you a cool glass of water, but you were unable to sit up and drink. When she noticed, more tears welled up in her eyes and she softly squeezed your hand and with the words, that she’ll be back soon left you alone and disappeared behind the white curtains around your bed. You didn’t know how much time passed with you just looking at the ceiling, but Madam Pomfrey was suddenly by your side with some other woman in white.

“This is nurse Bimley, we’re just gonna do a quick check, okay?” She asked and both her and the nurse started to examine you and move you around. They asked you some questions, but you didn’t really pay attention, your mind tired to function properly. With their hands on you and calming words, you fell into the darkness.

Opening you eyes the second time was easier and even adjusting to the light was quicker. You found yourself half sitting, half laying on the hospital bed. Did they move you again? How long has it been since I last woke up? Why am I even here?

“Hey.” Whispered a voice beside you, interrupting your train of thoughts. You looked at the boy sitting on a very uncomfortable looking chair next to your bed. You’d recognize his stormy eyes everywhere, but the ever-present spark in them seemed to disappear, worry replacing it. Your hand was squeezed and you looked on your other side, seeing a scarred hand placed in yours. You felt somewhat calmer knowing that your boyfriends were with you.

“Here, drink this.” Remus lifted a glass of some murky liquid to your mouth waited patiently for you to drink the whole thing and you did even though it tasted like shit. He placed the, now empty, glass on the table, avoiding eye contact the whole time, contrary to your other boyfriend. You were all quiet for a while, just studying each other before Sirius broke the silence.

“How are you feeling, love?” You wanted to answer, but instead of words, you started to cough. To your horror you’ve realized droplets of blood came out of your throat, and Sirius was quick to hold a small bucket near your mouth.

“Shh, its okay darling. Just let it out. It’s okay.” Remus tried to soothe you, suddenly standing next to you. He looked like he wanted to place his hand on your back, but for a reason unknown to you, he decided against it. After your coughing fit, you closed your eyes and tried to properly breathe, which suddenly seemed like almost impossible task. When you calmed down a bit and looked up, you saw Sirius’s eyes pooling with unshed tears. He tried to smile at you reassuringly, but it felt fake.

“We should get madame Pomfrey,” Remus murmured, the words aimed to Sirius who slowly nodded, but before any of them could move, you croaked barely audible no. Your voice sounded like nails on chalkboard, and you cringed before starting to cough again. Sirius held up the bucket again while Remus spoke.

“Okay, okay. We won’t call anyone just yet. Just try to breathe for us darling.” And you did what he told you. He sat on the chair again. After you stopped coughing, you tried to speak once again.

“What..” but before you could finish your sentence, Sirius gently shushed you. “Don’t speak, my love. You need to rest and talking just makes it worse.” You nodded at his words, resting your head on the pillow behind you.

“Do you remember what happened, angel?” Remus asked you carefully to which you just shook your head. You didn’t remember anything; you mind still not working properly. The only thing you knew was that you were in terrible pain. Remus sighed before continuing.

“You were attacked darling. When you were walking from detention, some Slytherin cornered you and..” his voice broke, not being able to finish his sentence. Thankfully, Sirius took over.

“They did horrible, horrible things to you, angel. They didn’t tell us exactly what happened, but it almost killed you.” His voice was barely above a whisper at the end, a single tear rolling down his cheek. It almost killed you kept on replaying in your head over and over again as you started to remember bits and pieces. Their laughter, their hexes and curses, the pain. You didn’t even realize you started shaking before Sirius gently laid his hand on your cheek.

“Hey, hey, baby listen to me, you’re safe now. It’s over and you’re safe, do you hear me? We’re never gonna let anything like that happen to you again, okay? You’re safe with us. I promise.” He tried to calm you but you didn’t register his words as you kept on remembering everything. It felt like you were in a trance, not being able to do anything beside cry and shake, ugly sobs tearing out of your throat. You didn’t even realize that Remus quickly left your side to get Poppy to help you. To you, she appeared out of nowhere, suddenly by your side.

“I told you to get me when she wakes up, mainly to prevent something like this from happening. Now leave us alone and get professor McGonagall.” Both of your boyfriends left rather quickly without a word but sending you a sorry look. You really didn’t want them to leave but were unable to voice you thoughts through the sobbing. The sweet nurse got you to calm down after a while of sweet talk and reassurance that you were safe.

“Let me check the injuries, okay?” She asked but already started to take off your hospital robe that you didn’t even notice you were wearing. Underneath your whole body was bandaged, some of the bandages red from the blood seeping through them, you could see black and blue bruises where your skin was showing and you felt like you were going to be sick. Madam Pomfrey, thankfully, saw that coming and quickly brought a bucket to your mouth, the same that Sirius gave you earlier, and you puked your guts out, all that while she whispered calming words to you. When you were done, you closed your eyes and let the nurse rewrap your wounds after rubbing some ointment on them. The second she was done, professor McGonagall came into sight with Dumbledore on her heels, it was like they scented they could come.

“Good evening miss Y/S. How are you feeling?” He asked you politely, his eyes searching yours. You shrugged your shoulders, not trusting yourself to talk just yet.

“Do you remember what happened?” He asked you again to which you just nodded your head, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

“I know its hard, but would you be able to tell us what happened?” You dreaded this question, but took a deep breath before finally answering verbally. You vaguely told them the events of that night. I don’t even know how long I was asleep ran through your head, but you pushed it aside and continued talking. About how they cornered you, taking your want and hexing you. How they grew tired of it after a while and decided to beat you up. How they used one of the Unforgivables on you before someone came to your rescue. How they ran but not before sending some unknown spell in your way. By the end, you were silently crying once again.

“Thank you, dear. You should rest now. Don’t worry about anything else. I’ll come and talk to you when you feel better.” Professor McGonagall thanked you and you heard in her voice how sorry she felt for you. You sent a smile her way, or at least tried to, before they left you again.

“You should really rest now. I’ve put some sleeping and calming draught next to your bed, if you want it.” Madame Pomfrey decided and went to leave you alone before you stopped her.

“May I speak to Remus and Sirius please?” You pleaded with her before adding “it’d make me feel much more at ease.” To which the nurse nodded before disappearing behind the curtain, hopefully snatching the boys. And soon enough, Remus’s head poked from behind the curtain, smiling at you soflty.

“Hi there, darling. James and Lily are here to see you, if you feel like it. If not, that’s completely okay and they understand. Anything to make you comfortable.” You smiled at his thoughtfulness, and you considered it for a second. You didn’t want your friends to see you in such state but you knew that seeing them would make you feel better so you nodded. Soon enough, around your bed were the four most important people of your life. You gently smiled at them, feeling calmer already. Remus carefully sat on your bed, Sirius in the chair next to him with Lily in the chair and James standing next to her on your other side.

“Hi.” you said timidly. Lily almost started to cry when she heard your voice and James laid a protective hand or her shoulder, smiling gently at you.

“Hello there, sunshine.” He responded just as gently.

“Are you feeling any better?” Remus asked you carefully, not wanting to make you cry again or overall worsen your state. You didn’t know whether to say yes or no so you just shrugged.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. We were all so worried.” Lily whispered, looking deep into your eyes. A flashback of her crying when you woke up suddenly popped up in your mind.

“You were here, before I mean.” You realized, looking at her.

“We were all here at some point. You kept on waking up and falling asleep the whole time you were here.” She looked like she wanted to add something, but her quiet sobs prevented it.

“Yeah, you’ve been here for two days. We sneaked in whenever we could. Sometimes you woke up and started babbling some nonsense, sometimes you just screamed. Do you remember any of that?” James added and that’s when you noticed the dark circles under all of their eyes. You felt bad for making them so worried.

“No. I mean, I remember some of it, but it’s all blurry. I remember some other woman tho, I think she was a nurse.” You tried to fish for your memories, but nothing else came to the surface.

“That was nurse Bimley, she came from St. Mungo’s after Dumbledore sent for someone to help you.” Lily explained, now more composed, but it left you even more confused.

“Why? What happened?” You decided to ask, wanting to hear their side of the story. They all looked at each other in apprehension, apart from Sirius, who was uncharacteristically quiet and avoiding eye contact, before Remus decided to put you out of your misery and explain.

“When you didn’t come from your detention, we started to worry. The more time passed, the more terrified we were. James tried to look for the map, but we’ve put it somewhere and none of us were able to find it. We kept on telling ourselves that you were fine, and that Minnie was just making you work extra hard, so we didn’t go to search for you. Something that I’ll never forgive myself for and I’m terribly sorry for it, love.” He took your hand into his and softly squeezed before continuing. “Then some Gryffindor prefect bursted into the command room, ordering everyone to go to bed, that there was an attack on a student, and we weren’t to leave our dorms. I felt my soul leave my body at his words, I swear. We didn’t even take the cloak, we just ran straight to the infirmary. There, we saw...” but before he could continue, Sirius interrupted him, his eyes unfocused as if he was remembering the night.

“It was Reggie. He found you and took you straight to Madam Pomfrey. He saved your life. We found him sitting on the floor, looking like he might pass out or puke. When he spotted us, he quickly started to explain how he didn’t have anything to do with it, how he wasn’t part of it and just tried to help you. I was so confused at that minute but when I saw the look on his face… I just knew that something horrible must have happened to you.” He exhaled, still not looking at you. It was Regulus who helped you. Regulus saved your life. You were tremendously grateful for Sirius’s little brother. Sirius took a deep breath.

“After he calmed down, he explained what happened. Told us that he was just wandering around when he heard screaming, so he went to see what was going on. He found you on the floor with Snape and Mulciber above you with wands in their hands. Doesn’t take a genius to know what was going on. He went to you aid, yelling at them to leave you alone. Before he could make it to your side, they ran away, but Snivellus casted some weird curse at the very last moment. We don’t know what it was but..” he choked on his words, not being able to continued. You could feel the anxiety from remembering that night rolling off of him. James decided to add to his speech.

“It slashed up your whole body.” He said before Remus send a dark and disapproving look his was which shut him up pretty quickly. Thank Merlin for Lily who decided to carry on explaining before the two of them started fighting.

“The curse made numerous of gashes appear on your body, they were all so deep and you were slowly, but surely bleeding out. If Regulus hadn’t brought you to the infirmary so quickly, you’d bleed to death.” She said quietly, not looking into your eyes.

“We heard Poppy screaming at Dumbledore to sent for help, that she wouldn’t be able to safe you by herself. Then he and McGonagall came out of the door and saw us. I don’t think they were even surprised to see us there. Dumbledore left without saying a word, surely to sent for someone from St. Mungo’s, while Minnie stayed behind. She was crying but tried to look strong for us. Told us that you were hurt really badly, but that they were going to help you. Then she made us all leave with a promise that we would be updated as soon as she knew something. She walked us all back to our dorms, even Regulus, to make sure that we wouldn’t try to stay. But once inside the common room, we just snatched the cloak and decided that one of us would always be by your side and we were until you woke up. And now we’re here.” Remus ended the story and a long pause followed. You tried to compose your thoughts but it all seemed too much for you. So I did scream. Your head started to hurt and you were just so fucking exhausted from everything.

“We’re gonna let you rest now, Merlin knows you need it. We’ll be back tomorrow, I promise. I hope you’ll feel better, sunshine.” James broke the silence first and he gently kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, Jamie. For everything. You too, Lils. Please, try to get some proper sleep as well, okay?” You pleaded with them and softly.

“Only you would worry about us getting some sleep while laying in a hospital bed.” Lily shook her head but laughed a little bit and you smiled at them as James took Lily’s hands and they both left, leaving you with your boys.

“I’m so fucking incredibly sorry, my love. We promised you that we wouldn’t let anything happen to you and look where we are now. I’m so so so sorry.” Remus whispered, ashamed of himself.

“We won’t let anything like that happen to you again. I swear on my life. We failed you once, but it’ll never happen again, okay? I’d rather die than seeing you like this again. I’m so sorry, my darling.” Sirius apologized as well and your hear hurt for them.

“This wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have done anything. I don’t blame you and never will. Please, don’t blame yourself either. I’ll be okay.” You tried to reassure them, wishing they wouldn’t be so hard on themselves.

“But it is out fault. We should’ve protect you but instead left you alone to your misery.” Sirius kept on beating himself but you were quick to stop him.

“Please, don’t. You can’t be with me every second and that’s okay. You’re here now and that’s what matters.” Remus looked like he wanted to say something as well, but you stopped him. “Let’s talk some more tomorrow. I’m exhausted and in pain and I just want to sleep. I’m here and I’m alive, that’s what matters.”

“Of course, of course. We’re gonna leave you to rest. Merlin knows you need it. We’ll come back tomorrow.” Remus said as he started to stand up, but you quickly shot your hand to stop him, the quick move making your whole body ache again and you let out a groan. Sirius quickly brought the draughts that Pomfrey left for you to drink and you happily did so while smiling at him in thankfulness.

“Please stay, I don’t wan to be alone.” You whisper shyly when you’ve set the potion down, still holding Remus’s hand. He smiled at you gently but looked unsure.

“Are you sure? You need to get some sleep and we don’t wanna bother you or make you uncomfortable.” He made sure to know you’re comfortable.

“You could never make me uncomfortable. Please, I really need you right now.” You assured him and pleaded with both of them to which Remus nodded and performed a spell to make your bed bigger so all three of you would fit and have space.

“Oh, thank Merlin. I don’t think I’d be able to leave you alone tonight.” Sirius sighed as he laid next to you, very careful not to hurt you. You smiled at his words and turned to him.

“Have you talked to Regulus?” You whispered to him while Remus drew the curtain shut and went to lay on your other side.

“Yeah, sent him a message thanking him and telling him you were okay. He asked if he could see you.” He whispered back to you and gently put his arm under your head, to pull you just a bit closer.

“I’d like that. I wanna thank him myself.”

“I’ll let him know tomorrow. Wanna talk to him myself. But now sleep and don’t worry about a thing okay?” He kissed your head just as Remus lied on your other side and took you into his arms slowly, waiting for a sign of discomfort from you but when you didn’t show any, she kissed your head as well before whispering.

“Sleep now, my darling angel. We’ll be here when you wake up and then every second for the rest of our lives.”

#the marauders #marauders era #marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x reader #sirius black x you #remus lupin x you #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar angst #angst #harry potter #marauders x reader #remus x sirius x reader #fluff

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lizziesangel · 3 months ago

Text

TOM RIDDLE - soulmates don’t exist PT. 2

SDE MASTERLIST - x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)

SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?

WORD COUNT: +3.7k

GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)

CONTENT WARNING: soulmate & time travel au, english is not my first language. muggle studies is basically what we get in school

The corridors of Hogwarts were eerily quiet—almost too quiet in the early morning light. You wandered around Hogwarts, taking in the atmosphere. It was just how you remembered life before the war. But you had to act as if you didn’t know, act as if you didn’t know your way around Hogwarts. Your heart was still racing from the overwhelming disorientation of time travel. The walls seemed taller, the stones beneath you felt somewhat smoother. It felt the same but yet so different at the same time.

You had no clue what to do next. The task lay plain ahead of you—find Tom Riddle and alter the course of his life by becoming his great love. You shook your head; you knew how time travel could have a big effect on the timeline. You never took Muggle Studies—mainly because of the maths—but you knew what this could do. Once he saw you, it would be done. There would be no going back, well, it wasn’t like you could turn back whenever you wanted.

But, it was like Hermione said, ‘No one is supposed to see you.’ Only this time, it was different. If you didn’t change Tom Riddle for the better, you could make him even worse than he was in your time.

“I believe you may be a bit out of place, my dear.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, your heart almost leaping out of your chest. The voice was warm, kind, but still serious. You recognized the voice. You turned and saw Dumbledore standing there, a somewhat younger version.

You knew he was still a professor at this time. His auburn hair was tinged with a lot of strands of silver, his robes a deep shade of purple. His piercing blue eyes gleamed with curiosity and suspicion as he looked at you. He raised an eyebrow, and his lips curled into a gentle, knowing smile. You wanted to slap him, angry for making you do this, while telling you absolutely nothing.

“You look as though you've been wandering these halls for quite some time,” he continued, stepping toward you. “And yet, I don't recall seeing you in any of my classes.”

You swallowed hard, your mind scrambling for a good answer, but you came up empty-handed. Dumbledore's gaze was patient, waiting for you to speak.

“Uhh... I—” you began, your voice shaking softly, but you stopped. What could you say? What were you supposed to say? That you had just traveled back into the past to stop one of his students from becoming the biggest and darkest wizard of all time?

Dumbledore's eyes softened. “Why don't we take this conversation somewhere a bit more private?” he suggested, his tone gentle. “I have a feeling there's more to your story than a lost stroll through the castle.”

Without waiting for your response, Dumbledore turned around, motioning for you to follow him. You hesitated for a second, but the calmness in his demeanor somehow reassured you. Reluctantly, you followed him down the corridor, your footsteps echoing softly in the stillness of the morning.

After a while, you arrived at an empty classroom, the large wooden door creaking as Dumbledore pushed it open. Sunlight entered through the tall, narrow windows, casting long shadows across the rows of desks. The air was filled with a faint scent of parchment and chalk, just like his.

Dumbledore gestured to a chair near the front. “Please, sit down. Make yourself comfortable.”

You did as he asked, feeling out of place in this familiar yet unfamiliar world. Dumbledore remained standing in front of your desk for a moment, studying you with those sharp, calculating eyes. “There is something... remarkable about you,” he said quietly, his voice kind. “You’re not quite where you’re supposed to be, are you?”

You looked at your shoes, realising you also didn’t quite look the part to simply be lost. “No,” you admitted. You knew lying to a man like Dumbledore would do you no good. “I’m... not?" you said, unsure.

Dumbledore nodded, as if he had expected that answer. “Time,” he mused, his eyes twinkling with understanding. “It has a peculiar way of bending when we least expect it.”

Your head snapped up, meeting his gaze. He knew. He definitely knew. “How?” you breathed, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself. “How did you—”

Dumbledore raised his hand to quiet you. “I have my ways,” he smiled. “But more importantly, it seems you have a very important reason for being here.”

You swallowed, feeling the enormity of your ‘mission’ pressing down on you, but in Dumbledore’s presence, it felt a little less overwhelming—though you were still angry he hadn’t told you anything sooner. He waited, giving you space to explain.

After a pause, you spoke again. “I was sent... to change something. Something that will affect the future,” you hesitated, unsure how much you were allowed to reveal. “It's about Tom Riddle.”

At the mention of Riddle's name, Dumbledore's expression didn't change, but you noticed the slightest shift in his demeanour. His gaze became more focused, and he leaned forward slightly.

“Tom,” he repeated softly. “Yes... I've always known there was something... special about that boy.”

Special? More like dangerous. You nodded. “If I don't change him, if I can't make him different... the world will fall into darkness. Everyone I love, my friends...” you stopped. Your parents. You hadn’t even thought of them. Your heart started banging in your chest. You wanted to go back. Tell them that you were grateful for everything, and that you were sorry for leaving them behind out of nowhere.

Dumbledore didn’t react with surprise. He nodded. “Do not worry about your friends or family.” He sighed softly. “You have been given a great responsibility. But changing the course of someone's life is no simple task, especially when that person’s soul is... so deeply marked.”

You looked down at your hands. “I don’t even know if it’s possible.”

For a moment, Dumbledore was silent, his gaze fixed on you with empathy. “Nothing is impossible, but you must remember, even the darkest of souls have their choices. Tom Riddle's path has always been his own. You may be able to guide him... but ultimately, it is up to him who or what he becomes.”

His words hung in the air, a reminder of what you were facing. “Know that I will be watching, and if you ever need guidance, you know where to find me.”

Dumbledore had insisted on introducing you to the Headmaster as a transfer student, emphasizing that no one could know the truth. The fewer people involved in the truth, the better.

You made your way through the corridors of Hogwarts with Dumbledore. Students were scattered around, laughing, talking in hushed voices, completely unaware of the darkness that would be coming.

Dumbledore said the password to the Headmaster's office. It was the same as he had used. So original. The spiral staircase came into view as the gargoyles started moving. You followed your former Headmaster up the stairs. The office was filled with old books, a large desk, and a few moving portraits on the walls. It looked almost the same as Dumbledore's office.

Behind the desk sat Headmaster Armando Dippet, a tall, thin man with kind eyes. “Ah, Albus,” Dippet said, rising from his seat to greet him. “What brings you here?”

Dumbledore gestured to you. “Headmaster, I would like to introduce you to our newest transfer student.” He gave you a small nod to encourage you to take a step forward. “She's come from Beauxbatons and will be joining us for the rest of her schooling.”

Dippet's eyebrows rose in surprise. “A transfer from Beauxbatons? How delightful! We don't often have students join us from abroad.” He looked at you. “What is your name, my dear?”

You swallowed, your nerves tightening your throat. “Y/n L/n.” You smiled at the Headmaster. “I'm honored to be here.”

“It's always wonderful to have new students join us at Hogwarts. The castle can seem quite large and scary at first, but I'm very sure you'll grow accustomed to it in no time,” Dippet smiled at you.

You forced back a smile. Normally, you would love such pleasantries, but now? Absolutely not. It felt as if you wanted to throw up.

Dumbledore stepped forward. “Headmaster, I’ve already informed Y/N of the basic rules and traditions of the school, but I do believe the Sorting Hat will handle the rest?”

“Indeed,” Dippet nodded, motioning to a nearby shelf where the Sorting Hat was in its usual place. “No time like the present.”

Your heart raced when the Sorting Hat was placed upon your head. You knew what house you had once belonged to, but would it be the same here? In this time?

“Hmm...” the hat murmured after whining about who dared to wake him up. “Interesting... very interesting. You’re not like the others I’ve sorted. Ever.”

You held your breath.

“I see loyalty... with a lot of bravery,” the hat mused. “A fierce desire to do what’s right, even when it’s proven difficult. Courage, and there’s something more than that... something deeper…”

Did it know? You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, huffing out a breath.

“Ah,” it whispered. "But that is not for me to uncover. Your place, however, is clear.”

Another moment passed, and then the hat shouted, “Gryffindor!”

The word rang in your ears. You weren’t placed in the same house. Your former house was Hufflepuff. What changed? The house of loyalty, hard work, and kindness. Maybe this could help ground you. Most Hufflepuffs you knew were kind (mostly high as well) and helpful. There were always exceptions, but you were happy with that house.

Dippet clapped his hands together, clearly pleased. “A Gryffindor! A fine choice indeed. You’ll find good company there.”

Dumbledore’s expression remained calm. “It seems that your path is set,” he said quietly, his eyes twinkling with that wisdom he always had.

As the hat was lifted from your head, you stood up from the stool you had taken a seat on. Gryffindor. It was unexpected, but not wrong—or bad. In some way, it made sense for you. You needed to be brave to talk to Tom Riddle. So, what better house for that than Gryffindor?

The Headmaster waved his wand, and a piece of parchment floated over to you. “Here’s your timetable, Y/N,” he said, handing it over to you. "You’ll begin classes immediately. I’m sure the others will help you find your way.”

You took the parchment, scanning the schedule. You had loads of free periods, and as always, an Astronomy class at midnight on a Friday night.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” you said quietly, tucking the parchment under your arm.

Dippet smiled. “Welcome to Hogwarts, Y/N. I hope your time here will be both enlightening and rewarding.”

“I sure hope so,” you nodded. Rewarding. You could use the reward of going home.

You and Dumbledore left the office. Going down the staircase, the air felt cooler. Dumbledore walked beside you in silence.

“So, you’ve been placed in Gryffindor,” Dumbledore broke the silence. “A good choice. You’ll find a community of loyalty and bravery there.”

You nodded. “I didn’t expect it.”

“Sometimes,” Dumbledore said with a smile, “the unexpected paths are the ones that lead us exactly where we need to go. You have been given a second chance, in more ways than one.”

“And remember,” he said softly, “the fewer people who know your true purpose, the better. Riddle must never know why you’re really here.”

You nodded.

When you stepped inside the Gryffindor common room, you immediately felt the warmth. There was a soft red glow from the lanterns, and the walls were lined with rewards and books. The smell of fresh cookies hung in the air.

A group of students was clustered around a table and looked up as you entered. It was already early in the morning, and you wondered why most students were up at this time. The faces of the students were curious but friendly, and a wave of relief washed over you. Before you could take another step, a girl with curly dark hair and a wide smile broke away from the group.

“Hi!” she greeted enthusiastically, her eyes wide with interest. “You must be the new transfer student! I’m Maeve, Maeve Miller.”

You tried your best not to grimace as you forced a smile. “I’m Y/N L/N.” The realization of having to meet and make new friends dawned on you even harder.

“Professor Dippet had owled us. We were all curious, y’know? Transfer students aren’t that common. You’re lucky it’s the start of the school year!”

You smiled at Maeve’s happiness, but you were still baffled at how fast news spread in Hogwarts. I mean, you had literally just left Dippet’s office.

“I’ll make sure you fit right in. I’ll show you to the dormitory,” Maeve smiled.

You followed her to a spiral staircase. As you walked with Maeve, she chatted happily about the house traditions, the upcoming Quidditch match, and the best way to sneak extra food from the kitchen.

Once you reached the dormitory, you found yourself in a circular room with soft, warm lighting. You saw only one vacant bed — in the middle — with your belongings neatly placed beside it. A suitcase you recognized, though it felt strange seeing it here. You had basically come empty-handed, so how were all your belongings here already?

“ How...?” you trailed off, confused.

Maeve caught your confusion. “Professor Dumbledore’s pretty amazing, isn’t he? He made sure your belongings were here from yesterday evening. Must’ve used some magic to get your stuff here so quickly.”

You nodded, even more confused. You didn’t even know you had time-traveled yesterday. You had no idea how, and you didn’t want to think too much about it before it might drive you mad.

“So, obviously, that’s your bed,” Maeve pointed towards the bed with your belongings on it. “And this is mine,” she added, pointing to the bed next to yours. “We’ll be neighbors! Oh, and these are your other roommates.”

Two other girls approached, one with long red hair and freckles, and the other with short brown curls. They introduced themselves as Alicia and Lilith, both offering you warm, welcoming smiles.

“Nice to meet you,” Alicia said, while Lilith gave you a small, shy wave. “It’s so exciting to have someone new join us, especially in our fifth year!”

“I’m glad to be here!” you lied through your teeth.

“Well, we’re heading to breakfast in a bit if you want to join us,” Alicia offered. “But I’m sure you’ll want to settle in first.”

“Yeah, you guys go ahead, I’ll catch up with you in a while,” you replied with a nod and a smile.

As the girls made their way out, leaving you alone, you felt disoriented. This was all going too fast. You needed a moment to yourself. Normally, you would have already been in your last year. You made your way over to the small adjoining bathroom. The light was bright. You stepped in front of the large mirror, ready to see your face full of scars and dirt from the war.

But no, your fingers trembled slightly as you reached up to touch your face. Staring back at you was a younger version of yourself — exactly as you had looked in your own fifth year at Hogwarts. Your features were softer, untouched by the weight of the war. Your eyes looked brighter... they hadn’t seen the horrors that awaited. No pair of eyes should see a war go down.

It was all surreal, like looking at a stranger. It was clear the potion had not only sent you back in time, but also transformed you to match the age you needed to be.

For a moment, the reflection blurred as tears welled up in your eyes. You had been thrust back into your younger self, in a world you didn’t belong in. You took a deep breath, swallowing the fears and tears away. You could do this. You had to do this. For your friends and family.

The first day at Hogwarts felt surreal. The familiar sounds of students chatting in the Great Hall, the smell of freshly made food, and the sight of enchanted candles floating above made you feel like you had stepped back into a dream. You knew there was a big chance that Tom Riddle was here, in the same room as you.

But before you could worry about him, you had to get through your first day as just another transfer student.

You found yourself sitting at the Gryffindor table with your roommates and their friends. “So, what was Beauxbatons like? I’ve heard it’s incredibly fancy, with all those grand fountains everywhere,” Maeve spoke—a good friend from Lilith, you noted. You could see how she was the one who helped Lilith blossom open as a shy person.

You hesitated for a second, remembering Dumbledore’s warning to keep it simple. You gave her a small smile. “It’s different from Hogwarts. Especially since there are a lot more boys here than I'm used to.”

Lucas, a boy with a head full of black curls, looked up. “Hogwarts has its charm. Luckily you were sorted into Gryffindor. You seem like a cool person, and everyone knows it's the best house.”

Alicia was flipping through your timetable, trying to figure out if you had any classes with your Gryffindor friends. “We’ve got Defense Against the Dark Arts first thing! I'm hoping for some practical lessons today. Spells, maybe,” Alicia's eyes widened with excitement.

Your stomach dropped slightly after Lucas mentioned there was a big chance you’d have a class with the Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws. Given Riddle’s obsessive interest in the subject, there was no doubt he would be in this class.

You offered a casual nod. “Defense Against the Dark Arts should be interesting…”

After the five of you finished breakfast, you gathered your books and made your way to your first class of the day. The halls were busy with students, most of whom paid little attention to you, though a few curious glances lingered.

Once you reached the DADA classroom, you found yourself standing at the doorway. You hoped for a normal teacher—when you were at Hogwarts before, every year there was a teacher with the weirdest background ever. The classroom was large, with desks arranged in neat rows, and the walls were lined with various defensive artefacts.

You let your eyes wander around the room. There, near the middle, sat Tom Riddle.

He was exactly as you had imagined—tall, dark-haired, and composed. His sharp features and cold eyes stood out even among your classmates. He exuded an air of authority and confidence. The other students around him seemed to ignore him. You wondered why. Were they scared of him, or did they think he was a weirdo?

You quickly tore your gaze away from the back of his head before he sensed you staring. “Come on,” Maeve whispered. “We don't want you to be late on your first day.”

You nodded and walked toward a vacant seat next to Lucas. The professor was a stern-looking man with a neatly trimmed beard. He immediately launched into a discussion of the most advanced spells, his tone brisk and matter-of-fact.

It was pretty hard to focus with the presence of Tom Riddle in the room. Every now and then, you dared to glance at him, watching as he listened intently, his expression focused and serious. You had no idea how you were supposed to change him. He already seemed so... unreachable.

Halfway through the class, the professor called for everyone to pair up for duelling practice. Maeve grabbed your arm, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Partners?” she asked eagerly.

“Of course,” you replied, grateful for the distraction.

You and Maeve moved to an open space in the classroom, pulling out your wands as the professor demonstrated a series of defensive spells. You followed along, trying to keep your movements smooth and controlled. Thankfully, the practice went well, and Maeve seemed impressed.

“You're really good!” she said after successfully blocking one of your spells. “You must have had excellent teachers at Beauxbatons.”

You smiled and nodded at her praise. As you practiced with Maeve, you couldn’t help but notice Tom a few spaces away, duelling effortlessly with a Slytherin boy. His movements were precise, fluid, as if he had been born with a wand in his hand. It was clear to anyone watching that he was far more advanced than most students his age.

Finally, when the class came to an end, you packed up your things, trying to avoid looking at him as you left the room with Maeve, Lilith, Alicia, and Lucas.

“Next up is Transfiguration,” Alicia said, checking her timetable as you all walked down the corridor. “I’m actually looking forward to that one.”

The rest of the day passed in a similar blur. Transfiguration was more manageable—Professor Dumbledore, who taught the class, gave you a small, knowing smile when he saw you, though he treated you no differently than the other students. You worked on basic transformations alongside your friends, though your mind kept drifting back to Defense Against the Dark Arts and the presence of Tom Riddle.

Potions came next, with Professor Slughorn as the teacher. He welcomed you to the class with open arms, making sure you had everything you needed. It was weird since you'd already met him, just when he was a bit older. Lucas was quick to show you around the room, helping you find ingredients and sharing tips for the potion you were brewing.

“Slughorn’s a bit of a collector,” Alicia whispered as you carefully added a pinch of powdered unicorn horn to your cauldron. “He loves students with… potential. But he’s nice, at least.”

“He’s even got a club,” Lilith quipped quietly.

By the time you reached your last class of the day, Charms, the exhaustion of trying to keep up appearances had settled deep in your bones. Yet, your new friends kept the energy alive. Alicia was quick with jokes, and Lucas had a dry, witty humor that balanced Maeve's enthusiasm. And Lilith was just there, enjoying her friends’ energy.

a/n: quick chapterrrr, part three will be coming out next week (probably or sooner)

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