#but i don’t want merlin to be forgiven

[vi-visected]

in my head after the events of camlann merlin returns to camelot and, still riddled with terrible guilt and grief, confesses to leon about everything that had happened and everything he had done, magic and all. and instead of outrage or betrayal or scorn or judgement (or even death, as he had briefly considered) leon shatters him with a deeply apologetic expression and a whispered “my friend… you must have been so afraid, and so tired.” and merlin collapses into heaving sobs against him and doesn’t get back up for a long time.

[papercorgiworld]

Toxicity

The dark lord’s favourite always gets what she wants

You use your influence with the dark lord to get a certain someone to behave.

Theo Nott and Mattheo Riddle imagine

Warning: toxic reader, crucio, bit angsty? and suggestiveness

Quick post forecast: today, we’ve got toxic Thursday with Theo and Matt, tomorrow it’s flirty Friday with Enzo and if all goes well we’ll have a smutty Saturday.

Tumblr wouldn’t let me insert the pictures in text, which makes me so sad. 🥺 Sorry, you’ll have to scroll down, I hope I can fix it later… Fixed it!!!! anyways happy readings!

Requested part 2

Theodore Nott

The dark lord smiled with genuine admiration for your work as you handed him Merlin’s spell book. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, you never do. Like your parents you know what loyalty means.” You nod and he continues. “If there’s anything I can do to show my gratitude, please let me know.” You shake no, pretending like you didn’t already have something in mind when you entered his office.

After a few seconds you speak up. “Actually, there might be something, a little annoying matter that I can’t seem to manage myself.” His silence is his way of telling you to state your wish. “There’s a guy in my year, he never shows me any respect. Belittles me all the time. Yesterday, he even stole from me. I can’t do anything about it, Dumbledore doesn’t allow students to curse one another.”

The dark lord circles around you, listening attentively. He already has his suspicions, but nevertheless asks: “His name?” You meet Tom Riddle's eyes. “Theodore Nott.”

Without warning he points his wand to the door and it slams open. “Theodore, join us.” Every hair on Theo’s body raises as soon as he hears his name, but calmly follows orders. Theo’s eyes immediately land on you and a scowl forms on his face, this can’t be good. “I’ve been told your behavior isn’t what it should be.” Theodore’s eyes darken. “Whatever she said is a lie.” The dark lord snaps his head at Theo, not pleased with how he talks about his favorite. “Crucio!” Your eyes widen as Theodore falls to his knees, reaching for a nearby table to keep himself from fully collapsing. “I think his behavior will now drastically improve.” You nod and the dark lord turns towards Theodore. “Return what you stole and don’t leave this room until you’re forgiven.”

As soon as you and Theo are alone he looks up at you with hatred. “You are vile.” You simply grin. “If I were you I would change your tone and maybe throw in a few compliments.” Theodore pulls his eyes away from you. You were probably right. His orders were clear, you had to leave this room happy or whatever was waiting for him would be worse than the curse he had already suffered.

Now that he’s standing again you slowly walk towards him and he quietly stares at you bottling up his anger. “I want my essay back.” You demand. He huffs, but you quirk an eyebrow reminding him to behave. Theo takes a deep breath as he surrenders and reaches for the inside pocket of his jacket. “Here’s the essay you wrote based on my idea.” He offers you the paper and a content smirk tugs on your lips. Theo turns around, pleased to be done with you, but you grab his arm pulling him back.

“You aren’t forgiven yet.” You remind him. “How about you start with a little ‘I’m sorry’.” You suggest, making him close the distance between you two and tower over you. You try to hide the fact that you’re a little intimidated and bravely look him in the eyes. “I won’t apologize.” You lick your lips patiently. “I’m not responsible for what happens to you if you leave this room unforgiven. The dark lord might see you as an unloyal freeloader who only follows orders when it fits him.” Theodore balls his fists as his frustration with you peaks. You want to say something more, but Theo won’t let you. He forcefully grabs your chin and pushes you against the desk behind you. “I won’t apologize to you.” The boiling hate in his voice is undeniable and honestly you don’t blame him. He started playing games with you without knowing how dirty you play and now his ego’s was taking some serious damage. You speak through gritted teeth as Theo’s hold on your chin stays. “If you aren’t going to use that mouth of yours for apologizing, you better put it to good use elsewhere.”

Theodore jaw clenches and he stares at you debating his options, but you know him better than he knows himselfs. Your core is aching for what is to come. “Fine.” Theo spits as he surrenders to your will, but not without being an arrogant ass about it. With one harsh move he spreads your legs and you grip the desk behind you for support. Your smug grin is irresistible to Theodore, but he’ll never let you know how turned on he gets so he keeps his eyes dark as he slides down on you.

Mattheo Riddle

You are part of the Slytherin friend group but you know that Mattheo isn’t too fond of you. He’s always ridiculing you for something stupid. It was like his hobby was getting on your nerves. However, you’ve had enough of it and tonight his attitude was going to change. You had managed to get your hands on Merlin’s spell book before Mattheo and were currently handing it over to a very pleased Tom Riddle.

“Your extraordinary effort for our cause is admirable and doesn’t go unnoticed by me.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, but kept quiet as he sat at a table with the Malfoys. The dark lord wrapped his arm around you pulling you into a cold but appreciative hug, while whispering. “Anything you wish, my dear?” You look over at Mattheo, but as soon as your eyes meet he looks away and you can’t help but smirk. Softly you whisper something to Tom, making Mattheo look back up with anxious eyes. “Unappreciative, you say?” You nod. “And disrespectful.” You add and the dark lord seems to get more agitated. With a dramatic calmness he points his wand at the table, making everyone’s face flash with terror.

Suddenly, the quiet room is interrupted by a loud smack as Mattheo’s face is forced against the table by a spell. The emotional pain is just as visible as the blood dripping from his nose. With fuming rage and yet a stern calmness his father makes his way to the table, while every other person looks down in an attempt to hide their fear. The dark lord grabs Mattheo’s face forcing him to make eye contact. “You do not mistreat my dear (y/n). She’s loyal. A woman like her should be appreciated and pampered. From now on you’ll be good to her. Understood?”

The grip on his face is too strong for Mattheo to properly nod, but his eyes tell his father everything he needs to know. Mattheo will comply with everything the dark lord demands. When Tom releases Mattheo he looks up at you and you sincerely bow to show your gratitude and respect, thereby affirming your spot as favorite.

After the world’s most uncomfortable meeting you’re pleased to wander the hallways in solitude. You spot Mattheo cleaning his face through the half opened bathroom door and you stop to watch him. When your eyes lock in the reflection of the mirror his whole body tenses, but this doesn’t stop him from giving you a scowl. This makes your pity for him ebb away. You take a few confident strides and join him, taking the cloth from him to clean his face. “He could’ve done worse.” Your words just make him scoff. “Is my pain and humiliation not enough amusement for you?” He grabs your hand telling you to stop, you try but fail to get out of his grip and his attitude starts to frustrate you. “Stop whining, Riddle, and let go of me or I’ll go crying to your dad again.” Mattheo’s jaw clenches, but he reluctantly releases your hand allowing you to clean and heal him.

After you’ve fixed him up you both make your way back to the other guests. When you enter the room Mattheo is quick to leave you a few steps behind, searching for his friends, but one disappointed and contemptible look from his father makes Mattheo instantly turn back towards you. To your surprise he’s quick to snake an arm around you. You glare at Mattheo for being so obvious about only being nice to you to save himself. “I’m not feeling really appreciated.” Mattheo rolls his eyes at your words, while leaning in to whisper through gritted teeth. “You expect a lot of love and appreciation from a man who never gets any himself.” You look at his dark eyes, while they dart around you. “Just tell me what you want and you’ll have it.” You lay your hand on his cheek forcing him to make eye contact. “Take me to your room and fuck me.” You demand, surprising Mattheo. His harsh and frustrated eyes turn softer as he realises you might not be as unreasonable as he thought.

A/N: Typo’s, grammatical errors, forgotten warnings, worries, disturbances, disastrous thoughts? Let me know, feedback is always welcome!

Picture source: https://pin.it/33fAo21Oe

[star-rie]

arthur and merlin conversation in my fix it au when the magic reveal in s3 happened:

(arthur and merlin are standing in the throne room, just the two of them with tense silence, right after uther’s death)

arthur: well aren’t you full of surprises merlin: what can i say…i never ceased to surprised you (small smile, still hoping that arthur had forgiven him and ignores the problem like he usually do) arthur: (hurt, thinks merlin is playing with him)…am i a lie too then? merlin: what? arthur: is this- are we- you think it’s funny isn’t it? merlin: i’m sorry? arthur: (scoffs) stop acting like an idiot merlin i know you’re aren’t one…just like how you don’t spend time in the tavern…or picking up herbs for gaius…. merlin: arthur i-

(shoves merlin to the wall)

merlin: (situation is starting to catch up to him) arthur- pleaselistentome- arthur: HOW COULD YOU?! Do you think this is a game to you? i trusted you… merlin: i’m sorry, please, i only use it for you- arthur: AND WHAT? THAT GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO LIE TO ME?! (screaming) I HAVE ALWAYS OPENED MY HEART TO YOU, DO YOU NOT TRUST ME ENOUGH TO DO THE SAME?! WHAT AM I TO YOU?!

(arthur feels guilty when merlin started sobbing, sobbing because of him. Merlin tries to shield himself from him, thinking arthur is going to kill him)

merlin: (hyperventilating) arthurpleasepleaselistentomepleasearthurpleasei’msorry… (arthur tightens his grip, inching closer to him until merlin is only a breath away) arthur: i want you to leave merlin: what? arthur: leave, far away from camelot, you are no longer welcomed here

(he lets him go, in that political tone he uses when dealing with noble matters, turning away from him. Merlin realizes that death is better than whatever this is)

merlin: no…what? No arthur- please- (merlin tries to grab arthur’s hand but arthur bats him away) arthur: do not touch me sorcerer.

(Merlin immediately snatches his hand away, wiping his face. despite being hurt, merlin falls at his knees, kneeling at arthur’s mercy)

merlin: please…my lord, please don’t cast me away…please sire, you’re the only one i live for, please your highness, don’t cast me away, please i can’t live without you…i’ll do anything…please- please-

(arthur fall to his level, putting his hand on merlin’s head. It travels down to rest on merlin’s face, guiding him to look at him)

arthur: i, king arthur of camelot, hereby declare your banishment, merlin of ealdor, son of hunnith. If i see you on camelot’s ground after the rise of the sun, i will strike you where you stand

arthur left the room, turning a blind eye to merlin’s cries. Season 3 ends on Merlin’s crestfallen expression.

[terapsina]

So apparently this still pisses me off. Merlin BBC made ALL the wrong choices.

They had struck gold okay? This show could have been SO GREAT (the actors of the four central characters of Merlin, Arthur, Guinevere and Morgana were all SO TALENTED, they made us fall for their characters so easily), but for some godforsaken reason they REFUSED to go for the actual payoffs.

They made promises that were never delivered on. Constantly.

Like. The central theme of the show was the fact that Merlin had to protect Arthur because Arthur was destined to be a great king who would stop the persecution of magic. And in the name of that future hope Merlin committed atrocities against his own kind on more than one occasion.

And that's fine (well not 'fine', but it makes for an engaging and tragic story, where Merlin has to sacrifice his own soul for the good of the future of his people).

But that only works if at some point he actually started to bring Arthur around to the fact that Uther was WRONG to outlaw all magic. That works only if at some point Merlin had actually TOLD ARTHUR that he was a Warlock, or if Arthur had found out on his own in some other way and Merlin had to scramble to regain his trust and prove to Arthur that magic wasn't inherently evil.

And no, the literal series finale DOESN'T COUNT.

And then there's the way they utterly failed Morgana's character.

First of all they should never have turned Morgana evil off screen (I'd argue that they shouldn't have turned her evil at all but I could have forgiven it if they didn't do such a one-eighty with her).

What they should have done was that after Merlin's betrayal of her trust, they should have made her into the antagonist. And they should have had Morgana finding out that Merlin had magic, that he'd had magic the entire time when she'd needed his help most.

And no, THE LITERAL SERIES FINALE DOESN'T COUNT.

They could have made it so that she wanted the same thing Merlin wanted, except that Morgana would refuse to WAIT for this golden future, instead fighting for it herself. They should have spent seasons having Merlin and Morgana utterly and fundamentally disagree about how to go about saving their people.

Because Merlin has faith in Arthur and Morgana doesn't.

Because she refuses to sacrifice the present for the future, because where Merlin sees sacrifice Morgana sees cowardice. Because Uther deserves to die and every day he lives is another day that an innocent person with magic could be burned alive in the middle of Camelot.

But no, Merlin poisons Morgana and now she's evil, and wants to be queen, and tries to kill Gwen, and is more than happy to kill Arthur, and turns soldiers onto the people of Camelot. Because that absolutely makes sense with what had been established about Morgana's character (cue the sarcasm).

And don't even get me started on how they utterly destroyed the friendship between Gwen and Morgana.

Gwen was always the integrity of the series, the one who could have brought the rest of them back to the negotiations table when it all broke down because Merlin had taken too long to speak the truth, and Arthur felt too betrayed to listen, and Morgana was too proud and disillusioned to have hope. Gwen would have been the one that brought the light back to the future because everything else might have been broken between them but they all still loved and trusted Guinevere.

It could have been AMAZING.

[caswensworld]

Imma say this and be quick

SCREW HER! I DON’T WANT HER! WHEN IT COMES TO DESCENDANTS, I HATE HER

I have her who is the love of my life but this post isn’t about her

CAUSE I JUST GOT HER! I have said it before and I will say it again, this family of women has me in a chokehold! They really took that hot aunt tripe and went with it! Look at her! LOOK AT HER! Screw Ursula for making my good sea witch feel insecure! Nah, Ulyana, you call the shots! I don’t care what she does to Bridget, she’s automatically forgiven, I do not care. Bridget was too sweet anyone, she needed a reality check. I am so down bad for Ursula’s daughter and her aunt and I do not care! One thing about me, I love me a bad girl. I would get so nasty with this sea witch, they would have to escort me out of Merlin Academy…

[you-are-my-king-now-cariad]

Just a quick PSA (suicide/depression TW):

I am very very worried about Sel in LB3.

And I don’t mean his demonia.

If we only know two things about him, it’s that he would give anything to protect Bree and that he really doesn’t value his life much.

That’s a scary combination when suddenly it’s possible we’re in a situation at some point in book 3 where the biggest danger to Bree is Sel himself.

Even if he isn’t actually in any danger of succumbing (again)… we’re going to pretend Sel would believe that? Pretend he won’t live in fear that his demon is going to ‘get loose’ and either kill or seriously hurt Bree? This is the same boy that hasn’t forgiven himself for correctly identifying the signs of a goruchel and finding an incredibly suspicious girl, then assuming the one who’s showed up out of nowhere is the demon. The fact that he’s succumbed and taunted Bree about her pain, savored her heartache? That’s not going to be easy to deal with.

I think it would be incredibly easy for Sel to believe, once Erebus has been defeated or subdued or however that ends, that he is the biggest threat to his king and his cariad. That she would be safer in a world without him.

And… well, Merlins aren’t known for their caution even when they’re not trying to die. I wouldn’t put it past him to just stop holding back on hunts, taking on demons he can’t handle alone.

Because he wants her to be safe. And he doesn’t think she ever can be when her closest protector is so familiar with his demon half.

I am incredibly worried that Sel is going to slip into the self-hatred he’s carried since before Bree met him, listen to that voice saying everything would be better if he wasn’t there, and stop trying to come back from fights. Just let a demon take him out, or even intentionally break his Oath to speedrun death. This isn’t out of character, either. He kind of already hates himself and his life, especially considering what he’s done to Bree.

I seriously hope I’m wrong. I hope I’m reading those signs wrong. I hope Bree can talk him down from the ledge, so to speak, and give him a reason to live.

[nataliarw2004]

I can’t tell you all just how happy I am that that isn’t really Merlin 😭 now the question is where’s Merlin and what happened to her?

She’s smart-REALLY smart and Arthur clearly hasn’t lost his mind to the point where he’s willing to hurt her, so she had of gotten away. I want to headcanon that perhaps sometime during the 16 years Mel may have forgiven her-at least to the point of possibly helping her hide away but I don’t want to make assumptions as you know from my recent posts I genuinely wish it wasn’t Merlin that betrayed them because I want Merlin’s relationship with the others especially Mel & Elizabeth to go back to the way it was. They were willing to save her after she betrayed them so maybe perhaps somewhere in their hearts their willing to hide her, but that most likely isn’t the case-I do want a reunion to see if their truly on at least decent terms

[whenyouhearthedoorcreak]

god ive said it a million times before but i’ll say it again bradley james is responsible for so much of arthur’s character and is most of the reason i love him

in s4e5 after arthur has just had cearlean killed and merlin makes the icon “you shouldn’t push your friends away, especially not now not when you need them most” and arthur responds “your wrong merlin, i don’t need anyone i can’t afford that luxury. the kingdoms my responsibility now and mine to bear alone, and you must learn to accept that”, bradley gives colin this Look and it speaks more words than arthur ever would

he looks at merlin sad and disappointed, he’s so so lonely, you can tell in the way he starts retreating earlier in the seen. instead of leaning on merlin like normal or asking gaius’ advice or going to gwen for answers on whether he could ever be forgiven, he tries to joke and move on and the smile never reached his eyes

he’s so desperate to be okay, to have the conviction of his father and his strong will, but he doesn’t and he knows that if he lets merlin look at him like that for a minute more he’ll break, and he knows that if he had hugged gwen a moment longer when he came in he would have cried. he knows that these people can see the chinks in his armour, so he’s trying to move fast enough they’ll lose track of them

he has no idea that merlin would never ask anything of him. that merlin rails against fate for putting so much on arthur’s shoulders, he doesn’t know that gwen only wants to see him find peace and comfort and safety, he doesn’t know that gaius would be proud of who he is king or not. all he knows is that he regrets doing something and he thinks he can’t show it and that he can’t be the emotional compassionate and loving person he always was,

because now he must be king and he’s always been told that kings are meant to be alone, no matter how much he wants people.

[sagaofstardustmkg]

Never forgiven || Nevros || Ch1 Trial 1.2. || Attn: Bercy

♫

Bercy is crying.

That’s the worst part for Nev. Seeing their friend — their best friend — cry immediately resonates within them, an aching in their chest and worry apparent on their face. But they’re not sure what to do. Bercy made it seem so easy, the calming touches, the carefully picked words, he knew how to love and care. It seemed to come so naturally to him. Not so much for Nev. 

Before they manage to do anything, Mizukabe shakes Bercy and then hugs him. Nev stands up abruptly and nothing short of growls at him like an attack dog, and when he leaves Bercy on his chair, Nev does the only thing they can think of. Standing behind him, they wrap their scarred arms around Bercy, protectively holding onto their best friend. 

They press their head against his shoulder, and in his ear, they whisper: 

”It’s okay Bercy… Someone was going to die anyways. It’s okay. He didn’t come here for a good reason.. he wasn’t useful like Bo. You… You were so brave. You helped us. You saved us from the motive. ”

In their voice is a pang of pride. Berceuse said he would accept Nevros no matter what. The feeling is mutual.

They nuzzle against his neck before they turn their gaze to the rest of the room. It’s in stark contrast to the tenderness they show Bercy - pure vitriol, hatred, steely eyes glowing as they decidedly make everyone else in the room a threat. It’s them against everyone. Of course they wouldn’t understand, of course they would want to judge Bercy! They don’t understand it’s useless, Merlin is already dead and punishing Bercy won’t help bring him back.

Someone was always going to die.

Nev isn’t stupid, is the thing. They’re rash and illogical and capricious, but they’re not stupid. They realise that whatever happens to the one convicted, it won’t be nice, far from it. Knowing Sasha they expect nothing short of a death sentence. And if these people are going to sentence Bercy… well.

Then there will be no reason to hold back.

”If you vote for him...” Their voice is low, threatening, straining like a steel beam under massive weight against anger that trembles within them. The threat is in no way hidden.

”… I will never forgive you.”

Read betwen the lines, it sounds like forgiveness will be the least of their problems, here. 

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Hello this is my first time writing I just wanted to say that I like you characterization and the way you write. Also one of your stories the one with the angry magic reveal gave me a really good idea ( I think) but I’m not much of a writer so I thought I would tell you bcs you inspired it after all ( can you tell I’m antisocial with terrible communication skills) Anyway the idea is : Merlin tells Mordred his destiny and Mordred swears a magical oath what basically is “if I have the intention to hurt or kill Arthur my magic will hurt me instead “ after that they became best buddies and have kind of cute younger brother/doting older brother dynamics. Merlin tells Mordred about his previous lovers whom died (Freya, Lancelot maybe) and just all of his secrets and Mordred assures him that Morgana wasn’t his fault. (And they’re just really cute besties as they should be) and then the Gang goes to “hunting “ when bandits are appeared out of nowhere doing their usual thing but one of them got too close to Arthur like stabbing to death close and Merlin uses his magic to kill the bandit and end the fight. Arthur sees this and he is mad he is raging and ordering the knights to tie Merlin when Mordred just lift his sword to Arthur’s neck and goes “I’m not letting you kill him” then he collapses. Arthur is like “ You sorcerer what did you do to him” while Merlin is panicking and checking Mordred’s pulse. After he is sure that he has he looks at Arthur and goes “ Say that you aren’t going to kill me” Arthur:? Merlin: “Say it!!!” After that Arthur is say something like “You can’t tell me what to do you’re a lowly servant nothing but a traitor sorcerer who can’t tell the truth “ And Merlin goes off and stars listing his thousands titles and accomplishments like “the master of life and death “ or “ guardian of Camelot and protector of the once and future king who is you btw “ and calls Mordred the “Bane” and the “Hope’s End” and stuff like that and Arthur gets angrier bcs Merlin is insulting Mordred but then Mordred wake up and like “You’re an ******** he’s literally my brother “ and Merlin cries and calls Mordred “The only thing that kept me sane and human the last year” and thats the idea or something like this you don’t have to write this or anything I just wanted to get this out of me and wanted to tell you that you’re such an amazing writer that you even inspire people like me who aren’t and if you really like this and write this then the only thing I can say is : thank you and I look forward to see this in your writing style. I hope you know that you always make my day with your stories. Sorry for rambling.

Ok so normally when I get prompts I store them until whenever I next update The List of ideas I work from.

BUT

and anon, I can't stress this enough

This is one of the coolest ideas I've ever gotten and I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!

I've queued this post for when I'm at work, but you best believe this is being added to The List when I get home and turn my laptop on!!

~

SO!!!

Yeah, maybe Mordred confronts Merlin way earlier on with the whole "Why are you being such an arse?? You saved me when I was a child and yeah you tried to kill me later on but all is forgiven!! I think you're really cool so why are you being all.... grumpy?!" and Merlin decides to wing it and tell the truth, that as much as he desperately wants to trust Mordred, how incredible it would be to have a Warlock by his side who he can talk to and confide in and learn with, he can't trust Mordred. Because no matter his feelings now, Merlin has learnt time and time again that destiny can't be avoided, and one day Mordred is going to try his damndest to kill The King. And Mordred goes ":/ That's stupid. Here." and he makes like some... magical blood oath that if he ever intends to seriously, and genuinely hurt Arthur Pendragon, his magic will prevent it from happening, by whatever means necessary. Fast forward just a little while, the others, mainly Arthur, are super happy that the two of them are finally getting along (and maybe a little jealous that the newbie seems to be Merlin's favourite) and they basically become brothers. Like people assume they're brothers and after a while they just... stop correcting them. Can you imagine if like... Gwaine at some point becomes genuinely convinced that they actually are brothers?? And were just fighting when Mordred first arrived but got over it??

Anyway. Yeah, magic reveal, pissy Arthur, unsure others. Mordred getting all angry and protective, Mordred's magic seeing "any means necessary" as code for "almost kill Mordred". Merlin freaks out, maybe uses his magic against everyone. He wouldn't do it to defend himself, would let Arthur kill him without much trouble, but if Mordred is in danger?? Nah, son, that's my little brother. He goes absolutely HAM, pins everyone to trees and really rips into them, and explains very vaguely that "Mordred is destined to kill you but I swear I'll do it myself right now if you don't swear that you won't hurt me." and like... everyone thinks it's Merlin being cruel and self-serving, because they don't know about the oath. Of course the two of them can explain everything properly once Mordred's magic stops wiggling the poor guy's brains around; it takes a while but they get there eventually.

Arthur keeps like, trying to get to the bottom of everything, but Merlin is too busy freaking out over that stupid oath and trying to figure out how to reverse it (no longer caring about destiny) and Mordred is too busy trying NOT to think about how willing he is to kill Arthur, it takes them F O R E V E R to get anything sorted.

Everything is fine in the end, but it's a real tense few minutes with lots of yelling and magic and almost pants-wetting (Merlin can be scary when he wants to be, Mr High-King-of-The-Druids and Last-Lord-of-Dragons and The-Eternal-One and Shadow-Walker and Camelot's-Defender and High-Priest-of-The-Old-Religion). Arthur is a little embarrassed for getting out-titled by his servant, Merlin is a little embarrassed because he hates when the Druids call him any of those things and he just outed them to Gwaine and Elyan who will never stop taking the piss, Mordred is feeling very vindicated and smug, and everyone else is just sort of... trying to catch their breaths and sort themselves out.

Happy ending!!

~

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH AND I LOVE YOU!!! YOU'RE SO LOVELY!!! I encourage you to start writing anon!! All my first bits were terrible (I have since gone back and edited to improve grammar and punctuation and spelling, but it's still not great), the beauty with writing is that the more you do it, the better you get!! Fairly quickly as well!! It's only been about a year since I started posting my works, and there's a huge difference between back then and now!! Who knows where I'll be in another year?

[solemnly-mischievous]

rivalry (d.m. x reader)

You and Draco Malfoy have a rocky relationship, at best. It'd be better to describe it as a rivalry. But all it takes is a bit of fire from your end to finally make him snap.

(AKA: I just really wanted to write an enemies-to-lovers trope for my first fic.)

A/N: Hi! First fic. Hope you like it. :)

Contains: Degradation, slight edging, d/s elements, slight dub-con (but not really; full consent is clearly given), light humiliation

Word count: 3.9K

-----

Normally, Defense Against the Dark Arts would be your favorite class. The spells you learn are fun and useful; Professor Lupin is always a plus, and most importantly, you’re good at the subject—so bloody good, you’ve bested even Hermione and Harry multiple times.

But lately, you’ve been finding yourself dreading the lessons. So much, in fact, that you were half-considering asking Hermione to hex you just to get out of your afternoon class.

Why? It’s a pretty easy answer when you got down to it.

Draco Malfoy.

You’d had an ongoing rivalry with the git since third grade. He’s been terrorizing you and your friends, mostly because of Harry, but along the way the two of you had begun building a personal vendetta.

(He probably hasn’t quite yet forgiven you for hexing him so badly he’d had to stay in the Infirmary for weeks, and you certainly haven’t forgiven him for causing your friends so much grief over the years.)

This year, you’d thought you could try your best to avoid him, with your upcoming N.E.W.T.s and all. But DADA had other plans.

Professor Lupin had begun experimenting with mixing up partners for class—it was, after all, a very hands-on class—and had apparently decided that cross-house interaction would build bonds and skill. His exact words were, “If they’re your friend, you’re gonna go easier on them. In the real world, you never know who you’re fighting with—or against.”

So he’d randomized the name list. You, being Gryffindor, knew immediately you wouldn’t be with any of your closest friends—but you hoped that perhaps you’d be paired with Cedric, or Luna, or anyone but—

“Your partner is Draco Malfoy,” Professor Lupin informed you when he got to your name, and you immediately make to protest.

“Her?” a voice came just as you complained “Not him”, and the students parted to reveal Draco himself, glaring daggers at you and Lupin.

“Yes, her,” Lupin replied, unruffled. “Now, pair up, everyone. We’re practicing Stunning today.”

That day, you’d fucking limped out of the classroom. Not to say Draco had gotten it easier—he could barely stand after you Disarmed, Stunned, and hit him with a nasty stinger hex just for the sake of it. (You’d gotten detention, but it was worth it.)

Today’s your second class with Malfoy, and you’ve never wanted more to be able to commit violent actions in your life.

“Please,” you whisper to Hermione as your group enter the DADA classroom. “Just one hex. I won’t even go to Pomfrey. No witnesses. You could just Petrify me, if that’s more to your liking.”

She sighs. “I’m not going to Petrify you.”

“’Mione,” you say, scandalized. “I thought we were friends.”

“Pair up, everyone,” Lupin calls out. Your friends shuffle away and you close your eyes, already getting a headache from the thought of—

“Well, well.” That fucking smarmy voice. “If it isn’t Potter’s little friend.”

“If it isn’t Daddy’s boy,” you snap, opening your eyes and glaring at Malfoy, who already has his wand out. “Bugger off, Malfoy.”

“Afraid I can’t do that.” Draco’s eyes narrow. Clearly, he’s as displeased with the situation as you are. “What are we doing today, then? Can’t wait to knock you down a few notches. Star of the class, my—”

“Patronuses!” Professor Lupin announces from across the room, and your heart soars—Patronuses, you could do that. Harry, months earlier, had taught you how to perfect a corporeal form in exchange for tips on his Astronomy essay. He isn’t here today—maybe you could be the only one in the class to do it.

Lupin continues, “Yes, the Patronus—an essential in the world of Defense magic. We’ll be starting with just the simple basics of it. A strong flick of the wand, and the words ‘Expecto Patronum!’. Say it with me, everyone.”

You chorus the words obediently along with the class, Malfoy’s snort of derision not going unnoticed.

“Good. Good, good, now—the key to the Patronus is to think of a happy memory. It has to be strong. Remember, Dementors feed on misery—it’s the only way to keep them away. Now, go practice. I’ll be walking around to see if there’s any problems.”

“Expecto Patronom,” Malfoy repeats in a mocking voice once the classroom starts filling with the chants of fellow students. “Doesn’t Potter know how to do that one? Heard he can do a deer. Pretty weak animal if you ask me—”

“A stag,” you correct. “And it’s Patronum, not Patronom.”

He glares at you again. “Think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

“Certainly smarter than you are.” You glance at him. “Though that’s not saying much, is it?”

You give Fred Weasley, who’d circled around to hear the conversation, a not-discreet fist-bump.

“Alright then.” Malfoy spits out your last name, trying to provoke you. “Let’s see you do it.”

“You try,” you suggest, hiding your smirk. “Unless you’re too scared.”

Draco grits his teeth. Unwilling to back down from a challenge, he brandishes his wand. “Expecto Patronum!”

A thin, wispy light appears at the end of his wand—weak, but clearly visible. Classmates around you murmur as they notice it, and Professor Lupin beams as he sees Draco’s doing. “Very good, Draco! A fantastic start.”

Draco flicks his wand smugly and the Patronus charm dissipates. He smirks, shooting you an expectant look.

You take out your wand, feeling its familiar grip, and you close your eyes. You recall the memory of a weekend in Hogsmeade with your friends, drinking Butterbeer as you stroll through the snowy village, pointing out the shops and people. Unconsciously, you smile.

“Expecto Patronum!”

Light blazes so bright you can see it under closed eyes, and you open them to find a glowing golden retriever prancing out the end of your wand. It bounds around in the air joyfully, leaving a trail of light where it leaps, and circles the classroom, eventually coming back to you and wagging its tail.

Professor Lupin is grinning, utterly delighted as he takes in your Patronus. Calling your name, he exclaims, “That is phenomenal—you’ve learned fast. Very impressive job!”

You smile back, and your Patronus glows lighter in response. You quickly call it off, the light being a bit too much, and the rest of the class passes by in a haze of awed murmurs and classmates asking your advice on their spellwork. You become so preoccupied, you don’t even notice Draco’s unrelenting stare on your back.

The class ends fast, the bell tolling to signify the start of what would be a study period for you. As students trail out of the classroom, chattering happily, Professor Lupin calls you over.

“Listen, I want you to know that what you did today was truly impressive,” he says, seriously. “I assume Harry laid out the groundwork, yes?”

You nod. He smiles. “You and Harry both are very accomplished students, then. But truly—I doubt many Aurors could’ve managed what you did today.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Your words are sincere.

“My pleasure.” Professor Lupin shoots you an apologetic look. “Now, I’m terribly sorry, but I have off-grounds business to attend to—would you mind setting the classroom to rights? I’m afraid I had to push the desks and chairs back for our class, but I don’t have time to put them back. I’ll write you a note, if you—”

“Oh, no, Professor, don’t worry, it’s a study period. I’d be glad to help.”

“Thank you,” he says, relieved, already heading out the door. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I’ll bring chocolate to compensate!”

“Goodbye, Professor!” you call, and he echoes it, and then he’s gone. You look around the classroom, seeing all the desks in the back, and you crack your knuckles. Time to get to work.

“Well. Quite the teacher’s pet, aren’t we?”

Merlin’s fucking beard.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” you mutter, turning around to find him leaning against the classroom doorframe. His blond hair glints silver in the sunlight, and his entire outline—his uniform, his stance, his dark gaze—is just… honestly, unfairly attractive.

So maybe your first impression of Draco Malfoy, years ago, wasn’t that he was a self-entitled git. Maybe, just maybe, you’d thought he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

And maybe that feeling never went away.

Not that you’d let him know that.

“What are you doing here?”

“Study period.” He starts walking towards you, shutting the door behind him. “Couldn’t help but be curious as to what Lupin wanted with you.”

“What’s it to you?” you snap. Malfoy doesn’t reply.

“Why do you insist on being so difficult?” he asks instead, and you blink.

“Me?” you splutter. “Difficult? Fat lot of sense that makes, with you fucking insulting me at every move I make—”

“As I recall, our first interaction was you hexing me in third-year.” Malfoy sounds amused.

“You pushed Harry into the lake,” you snap at him. “You bloody well deserved it.”

Draco laughs. “Good times.”

“Malfoy, what the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“You’ve got quite a mouth.”

“My mouth is also capable of jinxing you three ways to Friday, so I suggest you leave me alone, yeah?” Your fingers twitch towards your wand in preparation, and he only looks on with derision.

“I’m just frightened,” Malfoy sneers. You barely notice him slipping off his rings, pocketing them. “Potter taught you that Patronus charm, didn’t he?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothin’. Just wondering what else he taught you.” A vengeful mood seems to have taken Draco. “You seem to hang out with him an awful lot.”

“It’s called having friends,” you snap right back. He looks as though he’s about to retort, but you push on. “Unfamiliar with the concept? Wouldn’t be surprised. Crabbe and Goyle don’t seem like the best conversationalists, are they? Just a couple of goons. Wonder why you don’t have better friends. Friends you can actually talk to who operate with more than one braincell.”

“Shut—”

“Maybe it’s because no one wants to be near you,” you continue, years of pent up frustration spilling out in a vitriolic spiel. “Because you’re a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to be happy, aren’t you? You drive everyone away and then you go after more because you’re lonely and sad and fucking pathetic—”

“Shut up,” Malfoy repeats with a vehemence.

“—and it’s too fucking late to repair the damage you’ve done—”

“Shut up,” Malfoy snarls, and you stare into his narrowed eyes.

“Fucking make me,” you snap back, and he lunges.

You’re pinned against the wall of the classroom, Malfoy’s wand to your throat and a hand fisting your robes to render you immobile. Draco flicks his wand, ever-so-slightly, and you hear the classroom door lock with a wordless spell.

“Malfoy,” you whisper, but he cuts you off.

“Shut the fuck up or I swear you’ll bloody regret it,” he hisses.

“Draco,” you begin, and he curses.

“Fuck it.”

Gripping your robes, he leans in and kisses you.

It’s rough and demanding and you think he’s trying to hurt you, with how much his teeth scrape against your bottom lip and bite down gently, but you’re not pulling away, he’s not pulling away, and you find yourself leaning into the kiss, arching up to meet him—

He breaks away and looks at you, smirking.

“If I’d known that’s what it would take for you to shut your bloody mouth, I’d have done it years ago.”

“Let me go, Malfoy,” you say shakily, but even as he loosens his grip slightly, you show no sign of moving.

“If you’d wanted to leave you’d have Stunned me long ago,” he states, truthfully. Your wand is fully in reach. You know how to do wordless spells. And yet you let him kiss you.

“Shut up,” you grumble, still not moving.

“I think, perhaps,” Draco murmurs, glancing down at your body, “you’re enjoying this.”

“No,” you argue, and his wand digs into your neck—not enough to hurt but enough to register.

“Shh,” Draco hushes, almost condescendingly. “Be quiet, now. That’s a good girl.”

Involuntarily, you shudder at his words. They made your legs weak, and you fight off the urge to audibly whimper—what the hell’s gotten into you?

Maybe he won’t notice. Maybe he hasn’t noticed.

Of fucking course he notices.

“Oh?” The shit-eating smirk on his face is enough to make you glare absolute daggers at him. “Don’t give me that. You shivered. You liked it.”

“Shut up,” you say again, with no real strength.

“Don’t you want to be my good girl, sweetheart?” he teases cruelly, and you have to close your eyes to fight off the blush. It doesn’t work, and your face grows hot with embarrassment and arousal.

“Dear me,” Draco says mockingly. “What happened to the spitfire from minutes ago, hm? Still feeling like saying those words to me? Still feeling like being bad?”

Inadvertently, you shake your head.

“Who’s pathetic now?” he mocks, grinning, letting his wand trail a cold path down your neck, over your collarbone, until it rests on the top button of your uniform. “May I?”

The question sounds mocking, but he meets your gaze and you know he’s honestly asking for permission. And you give it to him, nodding, even as your blush deepens. Draco undoes your buttons, one by one, with tiny flicks of his wand, until your shirt is fully unbuttoned and you’re exposed to his gaze.

Draco shoves his wand into his belt and pushes your bra out of the way with an almost laughable urgency, getting a full, appreciative look at your breasts. “So fucking pretty,” he murmurs. “Shame they belong to such a fucking headache, hm?”

You grumble some sort of an insult, and Draco pinches a nipple, which shuts you up effectively. “That’s what I thought.”

His hands trail down to your skirt, and instead of undoing the button he leans down and scoops the fabric up. “Here, be good and useful and hold this for me.”

The indifferent praise and the degradation combined has you obeying immediately, hoisting your skirt up and baring yourself to him, which only adds to an eddying swirl of shame and arousal pooling in your gut. Draco looks at you, stares, really, and it’s with a predatory grin that he reaches over to caress you through your panties.

“Soaked,” he observes, sounding both amused and satisfied. “You always get off this much to being treated like a right slut, then?”

“Draco,” you whine, bucking your hips up into his almost phantom touch. “Come on.”

“Is that how we ask nicely?” Oh, this bloody git. You’ll never be able to look at him again—he’s going to be so fucking smug around you.

When you don’t answer, he withdraws his touch completely, and you make a sound of protest. “No, no, please.”

“Go on.”

“Please touch me,” you try, but it’s hard to focus when you’re so goddamn wet you’re soaking through your panties.

“Not quite,” Draco muses. He’s palming himself through his trousers, and the sight turns you on impossibly more. “Come on, then—convince me.”

“Draco, please touch me,” you beg. One of your hands drift down to your panties but he slaps it away immediately, shooting you a warning look. “Please!”

“Touch you where?” He wants you to say it.

“Touch my cunt, please, Draco, fuck, I’m so wet it hurts,” you beg, and it’s true—you’re aching with arousal, and if he doesn’t touch you within the next few seconds you think you really just might combust. “Please, please touch me, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want, just touch me.”

“If only the school could see you now,” he sneers, but even he seems to break his self-control and he tugs your panties down harshly, all but ripping them off. “Baring yourself to me and begging to be touched like a whore.”

“I’m not—oh,” you gasp, his fingers pressing into your cunt immediately and his thumb working on your clit, sending waves of pleasure so potent you almost double over. His fingers are long and thin, which is why he can press two in without preamble, and the stretch is barely noticeable.

“You’re not what? A whore?” Draco laughs. “Please. Look at yourself.”

“’m not,” you insist, but you clench around his fingers at his words and he raises an eyebrow.

“I think you’re lying.” He presses a third finger in and you whine, little sounds of pleasure escaping your lips as he works you open. “Quieter, now, or I’ll have to gag you.”

You bite your lip, and Draco thumbs your clit as a reward and incentive. “Now, tell me what you are. Be truthful, or I won’t fuck you. I’ll leave, leave you here with your shirt hanging open and your skirt up, the doors wide open. Maybe the next bloke who stumbles in might help you.”

Your eyes widen—he wouldn’t. But his gaze is dead serious. “Say it.”

“I’m a whore,” you breathe, and he thrusts his fingers into you, hitting that right spot. “Draco!”

“Say it louder,” he orders, angling his fingers and curling them.

“I’m a whore,” you moan out, bucking your hips upwards—you’re close, you’re so close. “Draco, I—”

He stops moving, and his other hand pinches your clit harshly. “No.”

You let out a gasp of shock and hurt, reeling from the denial and pleasure. “But—”

“You’re not fucking coming until I say so,” Draco hisses, undoing his belt and pushing his trousers down. “And I’m not saying so until I properly fuck you into a bloody wreck.”

His cock is already hard, and he positions himself right at your entrance. You can feel him, his tip pressed against your wetness, but not pushing in. “Draco—”

“I think,” he muses, and you want to scream, “one day I’ll drag you into a broom closet. Fuck your throat so hard you won’t be able to talk for the day. You’ll look pretty, don’t you think?”

“Please—”

“Or I’ll bring you back to my dorm, so I can fuck you until you’re screaming yourself hoarse,” Draco says thoughtfully. “Your dorm works. So long as I can ruin you.”

“Malfoy—”

“Because it’s just so—” and he pushes into you in one swift movement, fucking into you immediately with a fast and rough rhythm, “—fucking nice to see you being a slut for me.”

“Fuck!” You grind your hips along with his rhythm, feeling the tightness of your cunt around his cock, and you clench as he hits your sweet spot with the right angle, almost shaking with the pleasure that it gives you.

Draco groans your name, fucking you brutally as he chases his own release, already pent-up from the teasing and the sight of your wrecked state. “’m gonna come on your tits, would you like that? Get it all fucking messy, maybe get some into your mouth, get you fucking ruined?”

“Please, please, fuck, please let me come,” you plead him, feeling your impending orgasm barrel towards you—you couldn’t last, you can’t fucking last—

“Fucking hold it,” Draco snaps. “Hold it like a good fucking girl, you understand?”

You let out a mournful sound, but you nod—yes, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, please—

“Salazar, I’m fucking close,” Malfoy breathes into your ear, his voice rough and strained. “You feel so good, love, so bloody tight.”

“Please,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re pleading for at this point. Draco exhales shakily and curses, pulling out and pushing you to your knees with such a force that you drop down, your skirt being the only padding.

“Wh—?” you try to ask, but Draco is already pumping his cock and then he’s coming all over your face, some of it dripping down to paint your breasts as he’d promised. Draco leans down to gather some release on a finger and pushes it into your mouth, eyes darkening as you suck and swallow around it.

“Good girl,” he praises, and you almost come right there.

“Draco, please,” you beg, still on your knees and still absolutely fucking desperate for release that he’s been denying you for the past half hour. “Please let me—”

“Alright, spread your legs, c’mon,” Draco guides, and you obey and then he’s there, thumb rubbing steady circles around your clit and two fingers pushing inside you once more. You whine and grind into his fingers, his touch, hips following his movement as he pushes you closer—closer—

“Fuck!” you sob as he senses your impending orgasm and stills his hand. “No—no, why?”

You sound like a petulant child and Draco laughs at you, and it’s an unfair move and a mean sound but it somehow turns you on even more. “I’m just messing, sweetheart.”

Fuck you, you badly want to say, but somehow you feel like that won’t get you what you want.

Draco starts moving again, his fingers gaining speed, and the sound of them pumping in and out of your soaked cunt sounds delightfully dirty. You’re quickly pushed to the edge again, and amidst your pleasure you eye Draco distrustfully.

“Please,” you whisper, and he smirks at you.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

And he thumbs your clit and you’re coming, gasping with the pleasure and shaking as he eases you through it. His fingers don’t stop moving, even after your orgasm has faded, and you squirm in discomfort as he overstimulates you.

“Stop—please—”

“Promise me you won’t be a bloody pain again,” Draco levels at you, and you want to glare back but his fingers curl inside of you and you yelp with pleasure and pain. “Promise me, or I’ll keep going.”

“I—I won’t be a pain,” you mumble, trying to squeeze your thighs together to get rid of his touch, but he perseveres, flicking your clit mercilessly.

“Say you’ll be good.”

“I’ll be good,” you manage, so close to sobbing from the frustration. “Please, Draco, I’ll be good, be good for you, please stop.”

He relents and you feel him draw his hand back. You close your eyes and you hear him tug his trousers back on, buckling his belt. You feel strangely empty without him—without his fingers, his cock, his touch.

Draco produces a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the sweat, drool, and cum off your face, helping you button your shirt back up as well. “You alright?”

“Never better,” you reply, opening your eyes to see him staring at you in concern, all traces of the cruel tease earlier gone. Outside, the sun is setting, casting orange hues into the classroom, and you suddenly remember. “I—oh, bloody hell, I have to arrange the desks for Lupin—”

“I’ll do it. Stay here.”

Draco stands up and takes out his wand, flicking it twice in quick succession. A wordless spell. As you watch, the desks and chairs slide back to where they used to be, neatly arranging themselves in rows.

You’re impressed as he comes back. “What spell is—hey!”

He’s flicked his wand once more and torn your panties clean off your legs.

“Draco—what in Merlin—”

“A souvenir.” Malfoy smirks, stuffing your soaked panties into the pocket of his trousers. “And payment for the desks.”

“You’re a bloody prick,” you say, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Careful now, love. Remember what you promised.” Draco’s tone is playful, but warning. “I’m a man of my word, so you should choose yours carefully. Next time I won’t be as gentle.”

Caught off-guard, you can only nod obediently, which seems to please him. But you can’t promise you won’t slip back into old habits the very next day. Whatever the case, one thing was clear—there would almost certainly be a next time.

------

Requests & asks are open! Here is the guide on requests, if you'd like to check that out first. Hope you enjoyed!

[enviedear]

atonement → draco malfoy

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which draco doesn't know how to love, and instead breaks the reader's heart. after all, it's all he knows. ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ // heartbreak, emotional abuse (draco sucks in this), a shove (no one gets hurt), and ANGST bby

PAIRING ⌙ draco x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 2k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

it was hell the way he watched you, with his eyes cold and nose in the air. it made you want to scream and yell at him with all the hurt left in your heart. the fact he could bear to eye you with his arm around pansy’s shoulders only added fire to the flame.

it didn’t help that the girl also watched you with a snooty grin. she enjoyed watching you suffer more than draco. sixth year is still fresh, it's still only october but, merlin, has she made it her goal to be as evil as possible to you in the past two months.

if you would have known what would have come out of dating draco malfoy, you suppose you might never have dated him. though, in your heart, you know you probably still would have. despite that thought hurting you to the core.

you'd fallen for the grey-eyed boy because he had a way about making you yearn for him. because when the relationship was good, well, you felt like the world was truly limitless, wonderful, and full of light. and truthfully, you still don’t quite understand where it went wrong. everything was perfect. until it wasn’t.

you suppose it started when he told you to distance yourself from your friends, under the guise that they didn’t have the best in mind for you. deep down you knew it was because of status. and although you were pureblood, the company you kept wasn’t or at least didn't care. and before draco, you didn’t see a problem with it.

there wasn't a problem with it.

but as the relationship progressed, he pulled you into his beliefs. slowly, you let go of practically all of your friends.

and now, it was biting you in the ass. of course, you allow yourself to accept it. it was your fault. and all over a stupid boy.

next, he stopped seeing you as much. instead of practicing spells and heading to hogsmeade with you, he began doing those things with zabini and goyle. but the worst part of it all was the fact he would bring pansy along. you can still hear the echoes of previous fights about the girl.

“she’s my friend y/n, stop being this way. you’re mad.” he had laughed, sarcastically, walking away from your crying figure.

him calling you mad only made you speak with more fire, “i hate you! i hate both of you. you’re the most selfish and insolent boy i’ve ever met. you know she likes you and you still sneak away with her to do merlin knows what. please stop being like this to me!”

draco had pulled you by your sleeve, glaring and face red, “you're much too deranged for a woman that’s supposed to be refined. you’re acting like a mudblood. don’t bother speaking to me until you can fix the way you talk to me.”

finally, it was the end. the fights became too frequent and fiery. the number of names you called each other multiplied daily. but you always tried. always. you were always the first to say sorry. always the one to chase after him and beg him to forgive you. and you never did anything that needed to be forgiven, really. the insults you spewed at him were a weak defense against the ones he would throw at you. you were never the problem. the arguments were never about you or your actions, only his.

and now, you’re alone. you’re trying your best to push your feelings for draco aside and instead work to repair your friendships. you need your friends more than you ever needed malfoy.

“ginny! wait up!” you call after the ginger making her way from the dining hall, turning your attention away from malfoy and parkinson.

ginny glances at you, “what is it y/n? i have to head to quidditch practice soon.”

you give her your best smile, “i just wanted to say that i miss you and that i’m sorry for ignoring you, neville, and luna. i honestly let myself turn into someone i wasn’t. you don’t have to forgive me, but i wanted to let you know that i love you.”

she gives you one of her ‘we’ll talk about this later’ looks before looking past you with a scowl.

“what do you two want?” ginny glared, pulling you beside her.

in front of you stood draco and pansy. the sight of them made your blood boil and eyes glisten with tears you know you could never shed.

not in front of them.

"what do i want?" draco pretends to ponder.

pansy, clutching tightly to his arm smirks, "he certainly doesn't want you, l/n."

ginny laughs. a hollow and bitter one, "not doing a very good job at showing that malfoy. everyone sees how much you look over at her. you're an open book. no one cares this much about hurting someone unless they're obsessed. leave her alone."

his light eyebrows furrow in anger, but before he can retort, ginny pulls you away.

she walks quickly to the moving staircases and walks you up. the freckled girl doesn't speak until the two of you are outside of the gryffindor common room.

"i have to go to practice now, but neville's inside doing homework. he'll keep you company until i get back. i think you should get away from the slytherin house for now'" she sighs. "i accept your apology, i know we can all do silly things for love.."

you huff, "what i did was beyond silly, ginny."

"maybe so, but i know you're sorry," she gives you a small hug. "i think it's time for you to apologize to neville now. see you later y/n."

you nod and the ginger quickly tells the portrait the password, letting you slip into the common room.

┈─ ⊹ ִֶָ໑┈─ ⊹ ִֶָ໑┈─ ⊹ ִֶָ໑┈─ ⊹ ִֶָ໑┈─ ⊹ ִֶָ໑┈─ ⊹ ִֶָ໑┈─ ⊹ ִֶָ໑┈─ ⊹

you staying with ginny lasted longer than you care to admit. the ease you felt around your friends was hard to let go of. you found yourself opting out of going to your dorm in the slytherin house and instead found yourself following ginny to hers.

you saw little of draco and even less of pansy with your tactic.

and now, you've found yourself in a brand new year, the ache of last year is still heavy in your heart, despite your brain begging it not to be.

your heart harbors resentment for your ex-love. a dark bitterness you find yourself almost bubbling over with. never have you had such hate for someone.

you acknowledge what you're doing is unhealthy, the constant thoughts of someone that wrecked you completely, but no matter what you do, you still do it.

"stop fidgeting y/n, you've smeared your polish three times already." ginny sighs, interrupting your thoughts.

"ah, sorry ginny," you hold your hands out for her to fix your smeared nails.

the girl huffs and luna, who has been abnormally quiet, rests her head on your shoulder and whispers for the both of you to hear.

"malfoy's watching us from the other side of the lawn." her voice is soft.

you and ginny looks his way.

his grey eyes are icy when they meet yours and just below them are deep dark circles and one with a deep purple bruise beside it. he looks sickly pale and his hair is free of gel, allowing the wind to twist it around his head.

the sight of him causes the boiling hate that's within you to chill. it chills quickly and leaves your body stiff. there's something about looking into his eyes that scares you. it brings you feelings you can't understand, and instead, you feel the faux sense of numbness you've built around yourself slowly fading.

ginny's eyes don't leave his as she says, "the prat looks half dead. it's almost comforting."

"almost." you say, gaze shaky.

"he broke up with pansy last night, dean thomas told me. he said she got him square in the eye before blaise could pull her away." ginny huffs.

you nod at her, before staring down at your nails. ginny takes the hint and resumes her work.

the boy leaves soon after, but your body stays rigid from his icy stare for the rest of the day. the gryffindor fire paired with a hot tea from neville doesn't even lift you out of your sunken state.

you're sure your friends notice your change in mood by the way they stay in the common room with you late into the night.

the group is half asleep, neville softly snoring with luna yawning quietly beside him, and ginny wiping her tired eyes every few minutes

"i'm going to bed. thank you for the tea neville," you smile at your friends. "i'll see you all at breakfast, goodnight."

your friends mumble tired goodbyes to you, and you slip silently out of the common room. the walk back to the dungeons is cold, which doesn't help the already icy and aching feeling you feel.

trying to shake the feeling away, you stop to stand in the warmth of the fire coming from a torch above you.

you close your eyes, breathing shakily. tears you weren't aware of cascade down your chilled face.

the aching you've felt all day becomes heavier almost as if it's ordering you to feel it. this rush of emotion feels like a disease, and you're unsure of how to treat it.

you sigh, running your hands down your face, catching tears. you continue your walk to the common room, ready to curl up in your bed.

by the time you enter the common room, you're visibly shaking and your tears don't stop their relentless fall. the heavy hurt in your heart has spread, almost eagerly, past your chest and to your throat.

the light from the lake illuminates the dark room slightly, allowing you to navigate to one of the leather couches. you grip one of the arms and try to calm yourself. your eyes are drilled shut, trying to block out as much of reality as possible.

so when you feel a cool hand embrace your own, you jolt, ripping away from the couch.

and almost as if the universe is playing a cruel joke on you, because the eyes staring back at yours belong to the person who has caused all of your hurt.

draco.

"are you okay?" he asks the question as though he's shocked by his own words.

"stay away from me." you seethe, eyes wide.

he opens his mouth before promptly shutting it.

"how dare you ask me that. in the entire time we were together you never asked me that."

draco gets up from the couch, walking slowly to you, "but i'm asking now."

you laugh bitterly, "what do i care about now draco? where were you when i did everything for you? where was your care when i asked you. when i begged you."

"i admit i wasn't the easiest person to love but-" you cut him off with a shove, making him fall back on the couch.

"you were a pain to love. to love you i had to pull all the love i had for anyone else, including myself, away and assure it was just for you. you enjoyed making me rely on you. you're sick and twisted." you cry.

he bites his lower lip before saying, "i know that, y/n. i know. i'm horrible and i know it, but i love you. i don't show you well. i look for ways to ruin the good in my life. i'm a horrible person to love, and yet, i'm beyond obsessed with you. nothing- no one compares to you."

your tears fall harder, "you can't hurt me anymore, draco. i'll ruin you."

you're unsure if your words are a cease-fire or an oath of vengeance.

"i won't. i know i won't. i'll do right for you," his grey eyes seem to take that familiar hold. "come here. i swear this time it's different."

you know you shouldn't, but you find yourself back into his arms. his touch is warming, comforting. draco ruined you, wrecked you, and enjoyed most of it. yet here the two of you lay, his touch like an atonement.

[strawwritesfic]

Draco Malfoy x Female!Slytherin!Reader: Forgiven [Part 2 of ?]

Summary: There’s not one aspect of your personality for which you can forgive yourself.

Rating/Warnings: T (sexual references; fantasy slurs; pure-blood!reader; unrequited crush; referenced Draco/Pansy; set during Order of the Phoenix; implied Colin & Reader friendship)

Challenge: “115 Words” by BonitaWolfSpirit on Lunaescence Archives.

Part 1: Camera Part 3: Save

Tag List: @imaginesfire; @drayslove

Forgiven

It never ceased to surprise you how quickly time could fly when you were immersed in an activity…or perhaps it would have been better to say that you were always surprised you could find yourself immersed in any activity at all. Five years into school at Hogwarts and you still hadn’t found a subject to keep you interested. You were hopeless at Potions; Divination was a joke; and Professor Babbling had dropped you from Ancient Runes after you failed your very first end-of-year exam underneath her.

If you cared enough to do the homework, things might have been different—but there was only one thing you truly loved doing, and it was something you could never admit to anyone in your usual spheres of influence. The hobby had only started this year. Already it consumed you more than any other activity Hogwarts had to offer, even if you could only do it in short, secret bursts that never lasted long enough.

“Er…[Name]? It’s getting close to curfew. Don’t you think we ought to call it quits for the night?”

You looked up from your work to see Colin standing timidly at your side. He always looked like that when he addressed you, which was frustrating to say the least. It was now well into the school year. One would think any Gryffindor with a modicum of intelligence would realize by then that you had no intention of hexing them into goo. Thank Merlin he’d stopped flinching every time you breathed in his direction, at least.

“Already?” you asked, unable to mask your disappointment.

Colin nodded, tapping the ugly muggle watch on his wrist. “Nearly nine.”

A glance into your potion showed you that weren’t anywhere close to done developing what you’d brought to work on that night. Either you’d have to give it up or take it with you to your dorm, and neither was an appealing option. You swore.

“I-I can stay, if you want to finish!” he said hurriedly.

“No. It’s my own damn fault for being late tonight. Go on. I’ll clean up here. Don’t want you caught by the Inquisitorial Squad, do we?”

“Are you sure?”

An impatient wave on your part sent him swiftly to the door. Before he was entirely out, you said, “Same time next week?”

He stared at you incredulously, just as he always did. “If you want.”

After you nodded yourself, he finally rushed off, presumably to his dormitory. This left you to magic up the cameras, photo paper, and potions leftover from your lesson that night. Such work was beneath you, but there weren’t any other options available. Calling a house-elf would attract attention to your illicit activities, and you had good reason to keep Colin on your side.

Not that doing so was really all that hard, you mused as you gathered up the half-finished pictures remaining where the development solution had recently been sitting. Colin was about as Gryffindor as they came, even being the tiny, twitchy fourth year that he was. Any self-respecting Slytherin would have already revealed your dirty little hobby, or used the information against you in some fashion. That meant allying yourself with a muggle-born in your rival house. As long as you could keep your photography classes with him a secret, though, no one needed to know you were more of a disgrace to pure-blood wizardry than your grades indicated.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” said a familiar, drawling voice the moment you stepped out of the empty classroom.

Draco Malfoy of all people stood against a wall across the corridor. Any hope you had of this being a chance encounter was dashed as soon as you saw the malicious gleam in his gray eyes. He peeled himself away from the stones to walk predatorily right in your direction.

“I caught that Creevey boy scuttling back to his hole just before curfew and thought I might give his little girlfriend detention for missing it entirely,” he went on. “Imagine my surprise in finding you here, [Name].”

You stood your ground. There was no reason to panic yet. He knew nothing, as evidenced by his next question:

“Is this where you’ve been sneaking off to? Snogging Creevey in broom closets now, are you?”

Warmth surged into your cheeks. “Don’t insult me, Draco. You know I wouldn’t touch a muggle-born like him if my life depended on it.”

“Do I? I saw him come out of that very room. No one else went in. You came out.”

“A coincidence.”

His eyebrows pressed together. “What were you doing in there with filth like that?”

Despite your inner trepidation, you glared right back at him. Draco might have been prefect and a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, but he never used that power against fellow Slytherins. All he wanted was to get a rise out of you. You were not about to let him do so.

“Nothing with him, I assure you,” you answered coldly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to be getting back to our common room. Seeing as I’m not on the Inquisitorial Squad, I’d hate to give you reason to report me to Professor Umbridge for being out of bounds.”

Your attempt to brush past him was halted by his grabbing your wrist—hard.

“You’re on thin ice as it is. What do you think she’ll say when she finds out you’re sneaking around cavorting with mudbloods?” he demanded.

“I’m not ‘sneaking around’ doing anything!”

“Pansy says you’ve been disappearing once a week all term. If you’ve gone and joined Potter’s little secret society—”

You wrenched your hand free of his and lifted your wand with your other. “How dare you accuse me of running around with Potter and his friends!”

“I’m only warning you,” he sneered, wholly unafraid of the red sparks flickering directly toward his nose. “We’re onto them. It’s only a matter of time before we find out where they’re gathering, and if you’re found there with them…”

Draco didn’t finish his threat. He didn’t need to. A jumping sort of chill filled your stomach, like you’d just eaten a whole bucket of Ice Mice. These were dangerous times for people without blood like yours—not officially, of course, but he wasn’t the only one getting letters from home reminding them of the real state of things. Making amends with Colin over your previous behavior and learning from him would win you no favors in the present or coming regime.

It took a great deal of effort for you to calmly lower your wand. What were you so frightened of? You weren’t helping Potter break the rules. You weren’t breaking any rules to begin with! Draco’s accusations always rattled you up, that was all.

“Go on and look in there, then, if you really think I’m capable of betraying you like that. There’s no one else inside. Not Potter. Not anyone else,” you said.

He slid his gaze lazily from your face to the door behind you. “If you’re not a part of an illegal rebellion against the only sane teacher we’ve ever had in this place, where are you going every week? Pansy says—”

“Oh, well, if precious Pansy says anything, it must be true! Do you listen better when something’s being moaned into your ear?” you asked savagely.

Draco, however, did not rise to your bait. “She’s given me less reason to doubt her loyalties than you have.”

That stung. Sure, you were not a very talented or dedicated witch. You slept your way through most of your studies simply because they didn’t pique your interest. Maybe you didn’t throw around slurs quite so often as your peers, and perhaps you occasionally forgot to treat muggle-borns—especially Colin—as their station deserved. All the same, you were pure-blood through and through. One of your closest friends since childhood questioning you like that (on word from his girlfriend of all things, after she’d made it clear how much she hated you!) made you feel sick. Was what you were doing really that bad?

“This is ridiculous,” you said at last. “I’m going back to the common room.”

“She found this inside your trunk.”

You only got about two steps away from him before your dread got the better of you. After a second of hesitation, you turned back to Draco to see him holding up a little square of glossy paper. All the anger-born color drained from your cheeks. Already you had lost, but you had to try to save face.

“What’s Pansy doing going through my things?” you demanded.

“As a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, she’s allowed. We’re trying root out all the opposition to Professor Umbridge.”

“I’m not doing anything to oppose her!”

He stepped closer, still holding out the damning evidence. It was a photograph of him, of course. Nearly all of yours were. This particular picture featured him laughing on the ground with the rest of his quidditch team.

“Why are you spying on me, then?” he asked.

“I’m not!” You tried snatching the photograph back, but he simply magicked it too high in the air above your head for you to reach it.

“That was from quidditch practice just a few weeks ago. You weren’t even there. You were supposed to be in detention with that great oaf. Did that sniveling mudblood pay you off for my schedule so he could follow me around for Potter?”

“What could Colin have that I would possibly want?”

“Colin, is it? Getting cozy with him now? I’d like to know what he has on you as well, getting you to do his dirty work for him.”

“I wouldn’t work for him for anything.”

“Then why do you have this photo?”

By then, you and Draco were nearly nose to nose. You stared up into his eyes and realized that this was it: You had to come clean. The alternative was for him (and by extension the rest of your house and your own parents) to believe you were not only lowering yourself by being a lackey for some Gryffindor nobody, but a muggle-born Gryffindor nobody to boot.

“It’s mine,” you answered in a constricted voice. “I took it because I thought you looked nice. I sneaked off to watch you practice when Professor Hagrid was distracted. The picture is for me, not Col—Creevey. He has nothing to do with it. He’s just—teaching me how to take and develop photographs.”

Draco could not have looked more shocked if Granger showed up again to slap him across the face. “Teaching you how to take and develop photographs?” he echoed.

The dam in your throat broke. Along with that burst came a shower of hot, ashamed tears. “That’s right. So go ahead and owl my parents. Tell Professor Umbridge. I’m never going to amount to anything more a photographer for Witch Weekly anyway, so why bother staying at Hogwarts anymore? You-Know-Who isn’t going to want me, and you don’t either!”

It was quite a tirade, made all the longer by your thoroughly undignified sobbing in between words. Draco seemed capable of nothing more than gawking at you when you were finished. And why not? You hardly ever cracked an emotion, and now you were screaming at him in a dark, empty hallway. Still shaking, you lifted an arm to wipe the slime from your upper lip, then spun around to leave a second time.

“Keep the bloody picture,” you added before you turned a corner, “or give it to Pansy since you trust her so much more than me!”

With that, you tore away, giving Draco no further chance to accuse you of being a blood traitor. You ignored Pansy’s pointed, gleeful stare as you swept into the common room just a few minutes later. The door to the girls dormitories protected you from its direct beam at least. Then you raced straight to your bed and collapsed face-first into your pillow. All you had wanted was a chance to do the one thing in life that you truly loved. In exchange, you had lost your place in pure-blood society…and worse still, you’d lost even the friendship of the boy you loved.

[yourlocalmaraudersbabe]

hello, darling. pleade do remember how groovy I am before you see how many prompts I listed. The scenario would be being *awful* at anything sports related and James being super patient and sweet trying to teach you quidditch. With these prompts please: 2, 25, 36, 44, 54, 56 and finally 69. thank youuu

“Well maybe I’d reconsider”

Summary: James tries to teach you about quidditch, but it turns into a bumpy broom ride

A/N: Sarahhhh thanks for sending this in :) Also everyone go read @sarahisslytherin‘s writing, it’s wonderful <3

Word Count: 921

Masterlist + Characters and ships I write for

Requests are always open <3

Fluff Dialogue Prompt List

Join my taglist here!

Reminder that I do not support jkr. Do not interact if you do.

“Are you paying attention to me?”

James waved his hands in front of you, clearing your thoughts of daydreams.

“Sorry, I was too busy being lost in your eyes,” you teased, warmth creeping onto your cheeks.

“I know I’m beautiful but I’m trying to explain this to you.”

After six long painful years of James asking to teach you quidditch, and three years of a happy relationship, you now stood on the grass of the pitch with the boy in front of you, eager to teach.

In your defense, falling off your broom first year, breaking your leg and a couple ribs, made you pretty weary to the idea. It got you excused from flying lessons and strongly encouraged to find join Flitwick’s choir.

When it came to your boyfriend being on the team, it was hard for you to bring yourself to go watch him play. Just the sight of it made you nearly sick to your stomach. You cheered him on at the more important games, when you made sure that you had company in the stands.

It would be a lie to say you were fine with missing out on the matches.

You felt terrible not watching the person you love most play something that he enjoyed, all over the fact that you couldn’t stomach it.

But you cracked and gave into James. It was hard to say no to him, especially with that look on his face. That look of pure hope and enjoyment spreading across him the first instance you hesitated in answering no.

“Okay,” he started. “Three chasers, two beaters, a keeper, and a seeker.”

You mumbled, repeating what he said under your breath. “How am I supposed to remember that?”

“It’s not a lot to remember.”

“It is too!”

“Maybe come to more matches. It might be easier that way.”

You frowned. “That’s not fair for you to say.”

“Y/n, you’re hung up on something that happened first year.”

You stayed silent, gathering your thoughts in your mind that was racing. You opened your mouth to speak but he beat you to it.

“I’m sorry,” he looked to his feet for a brief moment before meeting your eyes.

“I accept apologies in kisses and hugs.”

He continued rambling, completely missing what you had said. “That wasn’t fair of me to say—”

“If I don’t get a kiss in the next ten seconds, I think I might explode.”

You stopped him short, his mouth agape. He erased the space between the two of you, kissing you sweetly.

He kissed you as if he were to ever stop, he’d lose you. He’d lose your laugh and smile, and the way you’d run his fingers through his hair as you lay with him in bed. He kissed you, ignoring the tense blanket of air that lay over the field.

You pulled away, an affectionate smile on your face. “I- I should probably try and come to more matches. I want to be there for you, James.”

“But that was unfair of me to say, I really am sorry.”

You gave him a compassionate smile. “All is forgiven,” you said. “Back to quidditch?”

“Back to quidditch.”

He picked up two brooms, holding one out your way. “Right. So. First, flying.”

“Touchy subject,” you joked, laughter spilling from the both of you.

“Okay, okay, it’s simple really. Just mount your broom and kick off with your feet, like this.”

James demonstrated the simple step for you so effortlessly it made you want to knock him off.

You eyed him up and down. “You can’t be comfortable sitting like that.”

“It’s quite comfortable actually.”

“Really? You seem to be—”

“You’re stalling.”

“This terrifies me,” you admitted quietly.

“It’ll be alright, I promise.”

“Do I have to be on my own broom?”

He shook his head, holding out his hand for you to take it. You fit your hand snug into his, mounting the broom in front of him.

“How about we just focus on flying today, yeah?”

You nodded, gripping onto the wood for dear life. “You’re safe with me,” he spoke softly, head on your shoulder as he slipped an arm around your waist and the other firm around the broom.

He leaned forward the slightest bit before looking upwards, ascending into the sky. “Merlin,” you muttered under your breath.

Once you reached the height of the stands, he hovered in the air. “Steering is all in your shoulders, got it?”

“No, I do not—”

You stopped yourself short as he gained speed, turning sharply. “James!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassured.

He kept a steady pace, winding around the stands and goal posts. It wasn’t as bad as you thought it’d be, but you’d never admit that to the boy behind you.

Everything was well, calming even, until James had leaned in, speeding towards the ground. You had let a sequence of curses and his name slip past your lips, squeezing your eyes shut.

With an abrupt stop, James planted his feet on the ground. You got off, fixing your robes and pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You’re an ass!”

“You love me,” he said through a playful smile.

“I do! But that still doesn’t mean that—”

“Just admit it, you love flying,” he teased, crossing his arms. “And later, you’ll love quidditch.”

“I love you, not quidditch.”

“What if my name was Quidditch, huh?”

An infectious smile crept upon your face, unable to hide it as you rolled your eyes.

“Well maybe I’d reconsider.”

James Potter Taglist(send me an ask to be removed): @wisedreamcatcher @scorpiobaby22 @emmaev @harrypotter0addict @talksoprettyjjx @katelebate @onyourgoddamnleft @ilovejamespotter @confuscita

[weelittleweasley]

Proper Present | Draco x Reader

Prompt as requested by @beiahadid: After the war, you and Draco are able to live your lives the way you want. You both get married, you get jobs, you live in your own house, and soon the idea of starting a family rolls around. How does Draco react when he finds out you are pregnant?

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, language, pregnancy, FLUFFYYYY

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: SCREW IT DRACO IS A HEALER POST WAR THERE I SAID IT!!!!!!!!! Happy Monday, beauties! Today I’ll have a few fics out hopefully. Probably this one, a few headcannons, and maahaaybe a longer fic if I am up for it.

Slowly peeling your eyes open, you let your eyes adjust to the morning light that streams in from the windows of your home. The silk sheets wrapped around you have never felt so good. You stretch your arms up, letting all the kinks out from your restful night’s sleep as you inhale a deep breath. As you lay down, you think of how lucky you were to be laying here.

After the war, things changed for everyone. You had finished your time at Hogwarts and that meant that you and your boyfriend, Draco, wanted to leave as soon as possible. Neither of you hesitated to get out of there, leaving it all behind. Draco wanted nothing more than to leave his parents behind, never being able to forgive his father and mother for putting him and you in direct danger. If you had died, Draco wouldn’t have forgiven himself for letting his parents behave in such a manner. The two of you left Hogwarts and wanted to go somewhere quiet and remote, where you could get away from madness for a while. Draco had found a small cottage in the countryside that wasn’t far from the city, so you could commute to work if need be. It was perfect.

Draco didn’t want to waste any more time. Shortly after leaving Hogwarts, you two were married. The ceremony was just between you two, intimate like you both had hoped it would be. During your wedding, Draco promised that he would do everything in his power to keep you safe, happy, and healthy. He wanted nothing more, but to be able to provide for you and him. The two of you got jobs, Draco as a Healer in the city and you as a herbologist. This way the two of you would be able to work in similar departments, which meant you worked in adjacent buildings with similar work schedules. Some times your work required you to come into the hospital where Draco worked and those days were the best, working beside your husband, both taking care of people.

You sigh out a happy breath, enjoying the morning sun on your skin, warming you up through your night clothes. As you sit up, your master bedroom door opens to reveal your husband, a large bouquet of flowers in hand and a mug full of hot tea. “Happy Birthday, darling,” he beams as your heart flutters. You had nearly forgot it was your birthday. You were so caught up in work this week that you forgot that today was your special day. Draco places the mug of tea on your nightstand and hands you the flowers are you graciously accept them. He sits on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on your knee, rubbing it gently. “Do you feel older?” he laughs as you sip on your tea carefully.

Rolling your eyes you say, “No and thank Merlin for that.” You both chuckle lightly as you lean forward and give him a sweet kiss on his lips. “Thank you, darling for the flowers and tea.”

“That’s not all,” he wiggles his eyebrows. “There are more birthday surprises on the way.” You sigh, knowing that Draco loved giving gift to show his love for you. It was very kind of him, but you didn’t want him wasting his hard earned money on you. Although he still had remains of the Malfoy fortune and he knew that he could ride that out for the rest of your lives, he didn’t like using that money anymore since he knew it was blood money. Instead, Draco kept that money tucked away and would only touch it in case of an emergency. “Nothing too crazy, don’t worry. Just a few special things for you,” he speaks, kissing your nose. “No come on, I’m making you breakfast.”

Draco starts into the kitchen as you take your time, rolling out of bed, sliding on your slippers and silky robe. As you tighten the fabric around you, you walk down the halls of your home, before walking past an empty room. You had lived in this house for almost three years now, but you and Draco hadn’t touched this room since you had moved in. It was a nursery room. Although you and Draco hadn’t been actively trying for children, the thought of a child made you excited, but nervous. When you were still students at Hogwarts and you talked about your future, Draco never mentioned that he wanted children and when he brought up children, it was always followed by something negative. But you knew that stemmed from his parents and the way they raised him. Draco didn’t want to raise a child like his father and mother did him. If Draco was going to be a father, he was going to step up to the plate and provide for them in a way that his father never could. 

You pull yourself out of your thoughts as you pass the nursery and head into the kitchen, as Draco hovers over the stove with eggs cracked in a pan and toast in the toaster. You sat on the dining room counter as he cooked, enjoying the sight of your husband cooking for you, him being very careful not to burn or overcook anything. This in itself was a great gift; spending quality time with your husband on a lazy weekend morning. 

------

Throughout the morning, Draco gifted you small things here and there. A new pair of shoes, some more books that you were looking at from the shoppes, a basket of sweets, all were very thoughtful and you can tell Draco had planned out these gifts carefully. The middle of the day was disturbed when Draco was called into work on an emergency call. He groaned as his pager buzzed. “I’m sorry, darling, I wish I didn’t have to go,” he tells you, rising from the couch.

You softly smile at him, rising to kiss him. “No need to apologize. You have a job, love, go. Besides, you know I’m not crazy about my birthday. Go save someone’s life,” you send him off with a kiss as he throws a wink your way before leaving your house, hearing the car drive off.

Standing in the middle of your living room, you let a sigh out. You didn’t lie to Draco, you didn’t care much about your birthday, but you didn’t like being alone with your thoughts in this house. As you clean up the dishes in the sink, you can’t help but feel like there is something calling you from down the hall. It’s like a magnet pulling you down the hallway as you land back at the empty nursery.

You stare at the door to the nursery before mustering up enough courage to push the door open. Nothing is in the room. It is completely empty. White walls, hardwood floor, nothingness that fills it up. Slowly and carefully, as if not to disturb the air, you enter the room. Within seconds, you start imagining what it would be like to have a child with Draco. You knew that your child would look like Draco, no doubt, his genetics were far stronger than yours. You can imagine wrapping your baby up in blankets as it cooed at you. You can see Draco holding your child you so much delicacy and care, afraid of the baby. You laughed at the thought. You know that Draco would teach your child so much about everything under the sun; life, magic, family, anything and everything. 

It isn’t until you feel the tear running down your face that you notice you are crying at the thought of having a chid with the man you love more than life. You wanted a baby. It felt right. The timing was right, you had a house, you could provide for the child, you knew that now was the time. 

You stood in that nursery for what felt like forever. You didn’t even notice how long you were in there until you heard the front door open and keys hitting the counter. “I’m back, love,” Draco calls, but you don’t budge from your position in the nursery. “What are you doing in here?” he laughs, walking into the room with you. You just turn to him with a small smile on your lips. “What are you smiling about?” he laughs as he pulls you into his arms, arms around your waist.

“I want a baby,” you whisper. His eyes widen, not expecting that answer. “We’ve waited for so long and I think we’re ready...I want a child with you, Draco,” you tell him as you stroke his hair, gently soothing him.

Draco lets a small sigh escape his lips as he surrenders to your touch. His eyes light up as you smile at him, knowing that if a child will make you happy, he’d give you ten thousand children. “Well,” he starts. “I do owe you a proper birthday present.”

With a giggle, he pulls you into your master bedroom, door shutting behind you before he attacks your lips with his. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer to you as his grip on you becomes tighter and tighter. You push his jacket off of him as he kisses your neck feverishly. A trail of clothes leads to your bed now as he pushes you back on the bed, him climbing on top of you, kissing your neck down to your chest, leaving sloppy wet mouth mouthed kisses all over. His hands grope your breasts outside your thin bra before he unclips it, throwing it to the side, his warm hands now cupping the exposed flesh. You let your fingers run through his white blonde hair, tugging at his roots. He tugs your underwear down so it dangles around your ankles. 

Draco traces your lips with his finger before you suck on his two fingers, swirling your tongue around them as a smirk plays on his lips. “Good girl,” he huskily whispers before pulling his fingers out of your wet mouth and into your wet pussy. You let a moan hum on your lips as he pumps his fingers in and out of you as he watches you roll your head back. “You like that?” he pushes his fingers in and out of you, increasing his speed as you moan in response. Draco then let his thumb slowly drag across as your clit as you buck your hips up. He loved teasing you just to get a rise out of you; he knew how much you hated that. “Beg,” he demands.

Screwing your eyes shut, you say, “Please, fuck, please” breathlessly through pants. Obeying, Draco starts making small circles on your clit as he continues to finger fuck you, your mind is reeling at the sensation. Draco presses your hips down to prevent you from bucking your hips up. He wanted to save that for when he was fucking you senseless with his cock. Your thighs began to shake, your sign that you were close to releasing all over his long fingers. “Baby,” you pant. “Fuck, I’m close.”

With a few more pumps, you come all over Draco’s fingers as he continues to pump, making sure you are riding out your high deliciously. When you catch your breath, Draco pulls his fingers out and stick them in his mouth, licking up your wetness. He then pulls his boxers off and hovers over you before kissing you gently. “I love you,” he speaks, interlacing your fingers before pushing himself into your heat as he sighs. 

You feel your walls tighten around his member as you squeeze his hand. He lets you adjust to his size before he starts to move, in and out slowly and gently. You grab onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin before dragging down his back as he picks up his rhythm. “I love you,” he repeats, his hips picking up a familiar pace as you dig your nails deeper into his skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he continues as he is pounding into you.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck as your hands tangle in his hair. “I love you,” you tell him back as his rhythm becomes irregular, signaling he was close to releasing inside of you. “I love you, baby.”

“Shit,” Draco pants before you feel him release inside of you, filling you up. Draco’s thumb finds your clit again, rubbing figure eights into you, making you come for him for the second time. The two of you are breathless as he pulls out of you, laying next to you before pulling you into his chest. “I love you,” he kisses the top of your head as you cuddle into his bare chest, pulling the covers over the both of you. “I’m sorry I never said it before, but I want a family with you. I want that for the both of us.”

You smile at your husband, placing a hand on his cheek. “I love you. There is no need to apologize. We weren’t ready before. But now, I want to be parents. We’re ready.”

-------

A week and a half passes and you are sat at work, talking amongst your colleagues. As one of your colleagues talks about shipping a large amount of herbs to wizarding schools across the country, you can’t help, but feel your body temperature suddenly spike and your mouth become dry. You peel your laboratory coat off and tie your hair back in a ponytail in order to alleviate some of the heat, but nothing seems to work. “(Y/N)? Are you alright?” one of your colleagues asks. “Your face is white as parchment.”

Giving a small nod, you say, “Yeah, I’m just hot. Is anyone else?” Your colleagues just give you confused looks. “I’m alright I’m just...” you trail off as your head starts to spin.

One of your colleagues grabs you, seeing your balance shift. “Let’s get you some water and something to eat,” she suggests, but the thought of food makes your stomach churn. 

“Just water is fine,” you insist. “Thank you.”

As you sit there your colleague and friend, Jessica, looks over at you. “Are you sure you’re alright?” Jessica asks. “You never are like this,” she scoots next to you. “Do you need to go next door to the hospital? Just so they can check out to see if anything is wrong?”

That’s when it hits you. “Jess, do you mind coming with me. I think I know what’s going on, but I just need to be sure of it.” 

Within minutes, you are in the hospital and you recognize the woman at the desk, Delilah, who sends you a smile as you enter with Jessica. “Hi, (Y/N). Are you here for Draco?” she asks, knowing that’s why you usually came in. 

“Actually, D,” you look around. “Do you know if you have any...muggle pregnancy tests leftover?” you ask her in a hushed tone. 

Her eyes and Jessica’s widen. “You think you’re pregnant?” Jessica scream whispers. “Have you and Draco been trying?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. Draco and I both said we wanted to try and have been trying, but it’s only been a bloody week since we started. Do you think it’s possible?”

Delilah comes back with a small box and hands it to you quickly. “It’s very possible,” she tells you. “The bathroom is down the hall. We’ll be out here if you need us, just give us a shout.”

You walk down the hall, your heart beat is thumping in your chest. How was it possible that you were pregnant a week and a half after having sex for the first time unprotected? This just seemed unreal. You close and lock the bathroom door and pee on the stick before placing it on the counter. “Wait three minutes?” you huff. This was about to be the longest three minutes of your life. “Bloody hell.”

You sit on the toilet seat, staring at the pregnancy test in front of you, tapping your foot anxiously. What if it said pregnant? That’s what you wanted, right? A baby with the man you loved most. But what if you weren’t ready? What if you jumped the gun? What if Draco didn’t really want a baby with you? 

Thoughts race through your mind before you look at your watch anxiously. Three minutes was up. You let out a shaky exhalation before rising and closing your eyes. “It’s alright, (Y/N),” you calm yourself down. “Just look.”

Picking up the test, you flip it up to see two dark lines. 

I’m pregnant you think to yourself.

Tears fill your eyes and a huge smile is on your face. You were going to have a baby. Draco was going to be a father. You were going to be a mother. You let a happy sob escape your lips. You were pregnant. 

“(Y/N)? It’s been three minutes,” Jessica calls from the other side of the door. You swing the door open with tears in your eyes and large smile on your face. “Merlin,” she whispers. “You’re pregnant.” She engulfs you in a hug before looking to Delilah.

Delilah’s face jumps with excitement. She picks up the desk phone and announces over the speaker system. “Can Dr. Malfoy please report to exam room number four right away? Dr. Malfoy, report to exam room four,” Delilah speaks as you giggle with excitement. She hangs up the phone, “Go!” 

You run to exam room four, shutting the door, bubbling with excitement, bursting at the seams waiting for your husband to come in. What was he gonna say? What was he going to do? 

“Alright, hi there I’m Dr. Malfoy and I-” Draco sees you standing in the exam room, hands behind your back, clutching onto the pregnancy test with an iron grip. “Oh, darling! What are you doing here?” he asks with a big smile, walking over to you to kiss your cheek. He notices your hands behind your back. “Uh oh. What are you up to?” he chuckles.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you speak, “I need to tell you something.” Draco’s face fills with nerves as he shakes his head. “Or I can show you.” He furrows his brows as you take one of his hands and then place the pregnancy test in his hands. He looks at it confused for a moment before reality hits him in the face. “I’m pregnant...” you start to cry.

Draco is shocked. He doesn’t say anything which brings you anxiety. But then the biggest smile comes across his face as he looks up at you. “You’re pregnant,” he whispers, tears starting to pool in his eyes. You happily nod, covering your mouth to hold back your giggles and sobs. “You’re pregnant,” he repeats with so much happiness and laughter. “We’re going to have a baby?!” he screams before engulfing you in the biggest hug, spinning you around as you wildly laugh. He puts you down and kisses you hard as you hold him tightly. “I’m going to be a dad,” he cries as you hold his face. 

“You’re going to be a dad,” you repeat, crying. “You’re going to be the best bloody father,” you tell him, making his heart swell at your words. “We’re going to be parents.”

Draco buries his face in your neck as you hold onto him tight, his grip unbreakable on you. “You’re going to be the most wonderful mother,” he whispers in your ear as you smile into his laboratory coat. “We’re going to be the best parents,” he pulls away to look at the brightest smile you have on your face. “We’re having a fucking baby!” 

You laugh at him before he dashes out of the exam room and takes to the halls. “My wife is pregnant!” he yells down the halls of the hospital, earning cheers from his fellow Healers. This baby was in for the ride of their life.

[educatedinyellow]

Rec list: Only One

The other day I was thinking about some stories I’ve loved over the years that represent their author’s only fic within a particular fandom. Specifically, I was thinking how happy I am that these writers stopped by and made something wonderful on their way, and I wanted to celebrate that!

Fandom: BBC Sherlock

Make Whole What Has Been Smashed by gigantic. This is such a moving and beautiful magical realism fic, one of my favorites. "Don't look at me that way, John. Blank stares are already a dreadful reminder of how hopeless other people are," Sherlock said. "Since most people aren't maintaining a home with Merlin living backwards, I think I'm doing alright at going with it so far," John said.

Space Travel by candle_beck. This author has written a number of Holmes fics in the Ritchie!verse, but this was their only Sherlock fic. Their use of extended metaphor and lyrical imagery is breathtaking. I would literally cross light-years for you, if someone would only give me a spaceship.

Wait by roseselavy. This is the author’s one and only fic on AO3. I enjoy its complexity of characterization and its nuanced exploration of Sherlock’s addiction and its impact on his ambiguous understanding of his own sexuality. The writing style captures me every time, so sharply observant and insightful. Liberal arts AU. Sherlock Holmes is a reclusive literary writer in need of a flatmate after burning through his latest book advance, John Watson is midway through a PhD in art history.

Wherein There Is a Case, Several Mysteries, John Coming to the Rescue, and an Old Folk Saying by parsnips (trifles). A wonderful fic in which Sherlock is kidnapped and John has to rise to the occasion and solve the case. Whimsically funny, cleverly plotted, and joyfully romantic -- it’s a winner. There are three mysteries to living with Sherlock Holmes. 

Almost Normal by Jackson_Rayne. One of those ‘from sex to love’ fics that excels in poker-faced romance. John is inscrutable, Sherlock is out of his depth, everything is done in the wrong order, and yet somehow they end up with something almost normal.

Honorable Mentions: BBC Sherlock Authors With Only Two Fics

The Strait of Juan de Fuca by mightypog. This take on a Johnlock post-Reichenbach reunion is one of my favorites in that crowded genre. Sherlock is back and all seems forgiven, but something is missing between him and John. Their friendship initially appears intact, but Sherlock doesn't understand why John seems to be slipping away. Finally, in terror, he tries to reconnect with John by taking him to the one place that seems to inspire any emotional interest in John any more: the Canadian wilderness. While there, Sherlock faces his greatest fear.

that thing you like by misspamela. A sparkling fic that deftly juggles a lot of tropes -- meet the parents, first time, holiday fic -- to create a well-characterized delight. Written way back in the mists of time, by which I mean 2010. "Happy Christmas, etc. etc." 

There Is No Death by lyricalprose (fairylights). A wonderful Star Wars AU that knocked my socks off when I first read it. "He's a freak, you know." Donovan's sneer bleeds into her voice. "A Jedi washout. Such a nutter that even the damn mystics didn't want him." John and Sherlock - a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.

Suite for Violin and Clarinet by AwkwardAnnie. This writer has also dipped into a more obscure Holmesian fandom -- Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century! -- but in the realm of BBC Sherlock, she has posted this oneshot and a drabble collection. I’ve always been fond of this one, where Sherlock and John work out their feelings through shared music. John finds a clarinet in a charity shop and discovers that some things are better said with music. Eventual Sherlock/John.

Other Holmesian Fandoms

A Study in Midnight by M_Leigh. Set in Neil Gaiman’s Emerald ‘verse. It is compulsively well-written with rug-pull plot twists that literally made me scream, and it features what is quite possibly my favorite Watson narrative voice of all time. An irresistible story. In a world dominated by an alien monarchy, criminals Sherlock Holmes and John Watson work to take down the royal establishment while detective James Moriarty and his associate Sebastian Moran try to track them down. Also featuring by Irene Adler and Roderick Maclean, who did in fact exist. AU based on Neil Gaiman's phenomenal short story "A Study in Emerald."

The Seventeenth Page Affliction by EmmyAngua. This author has written many Sherlock fics, but only ventured once into ACD Holmes fic, and the result was amazing. Of particular note is the unique antagonist of this tale, who shows what great damage can be done even completely without malice. I was ever curious as to the thoughts of my friend, and in the years that followed I puzzled over that moment. His face was so severe, so preoccupied that I knew at once that this case would be either a most intriguing story for my readers or one I never dared to retell.

SPN

There’s Only One Sure Thing That I Know by blinkiesays. The perfect domesticity fic, with a premise so brilliantly simple and funny. Dean doesn't even get halfway through explaining before Bobby starts laughing. When he lets himself think about it for more than five seconds, Dean can almost see Bobby's point: he's faced down demons, witches, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, angels, and Satan himself and now he's been defeated by the God damn Midwest.

The Last Moonlight Serenade by gankyourdarlings. A *fantastic* WWII AU, where somehow pilot!Cas and submarine!captain!Dean keep on meeting in the middle. It's the night before 1945 and Honolulu is celebrating like flipping the calendar is all it'll take to end this thing and send everybody home. Makes for one hell of a party. But it's been a long war, getting longer, and Dean Winchester stopped pinning his hopes on anything a long time ago. Then, as the clock ticks down to the new year, he finds himself in the company of a grounded fighter pilot. All of a sudden, maybe there's something to look forward to.

The Chain by EquestrianStatue. A wonderful Endverse fic, heart-breaking and hopelessly devoted just as these two should be. “Me and you,” Dean blurts out. “We’re— we… ” When Dean doesn’t finish the question, Cas gives him a long, level look, and then he says, “Not in a while.”

devotional by carverism. A worshipful glimpse of early-seasons Castiel falling in love. I’m not here to perch, Castiel had said, once upon a time. Laughable, now.

Miscellaneous Fandoms

Gentle Antidote by x_los. My personal favorite Wimsey fic, a wonderful re-imagining of Peter and Harriet’s first meeting in a world where society is organized around the prospect of soulmates. Harriet’s narrative voice is superb. At twenty-one, Harriet Vane gets her Name. It's rather longer than she expected.

Five Times Barbara Grahame Smiled (And One Time She Didn’t) by goshemily. This is the rarest of gems: a fic for Barbara/Peaceable from my beloved Sherwood Ring! (a novel for which the total number of fanworks on AO3 is less than 10). How extraordinarily lucky, then, to have this one, which flits through a collection of alternate universes with concise and dazzling imagination. Truly excellent writing for a couple who will forever be close to my heart. “I imagine you often get away with things.” The quirk of his lips, too familiar already. She smiles, brief. “I do.”

Window by katyabaturinsky. A quietly joyful Man From UNCLE fic in which we get to know Illya through the eyes of his aging Franco-Russian neighbor in New York. It was the hair that first attracted her attention. She supposed he heard that often.

Ladies Who Organise by reckonedrightly. An excellent Discworld AU with a genderswapped Vetinari. Bonus points for very interesting characterization of Sybil, plus glimpses of Rosie Palm and Lady Margolotta. “A woman,” Roberta Meserole had said once, lighting a long black cigarette with a silver lighter, “hides in plain sight. Visibility, Haveline, is our most important asset—” She looked up. Around. “Haveline,” she said, “that is not funny.”  Or, how Ankh-Morpork acquired its first female Patrician very, very quietly.