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ghostedgwen · 1 month ago

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under that attitude | j.potter

note : I'll have you know it was very funny to take breaks from writing this to create rollercoasters on my roblox theme park tycoon that I managed on the side, I cannot just do one thing lately - at least it was productive

warnings : some angst and a lot of overthinking, pining, misunderstandings (only a bit), two dumb idiots avoiding their feelings, idiots in love, a whole lot of fluff despite the denial

You were always good at keeping secrets - especially the one about your Legilimency. No one could know, because you didn’t have a solid prediction of how the wizarding world would react to that information. But everything changes the day you hear the truth behind his insults - the way his heart stutters when you argue, the desperate, half-terrified way he wants you. 4.9k words

. . . Like, I want you, bless my soul, and I ain't gotta tell him. I think he knows.

Like how most depressing things are, it was worse at night.

The castle breathed in the dark - long, slow sighs that rattled through stone and bone alike - and it was then, in the hush between curfew and dawn, that the voices were loudest. Not aloud. Never aloud. In your head. Flickering, always uninvited.

You leaned against the cold wall outside the Slytherin common room, your head tipped back, eyes closed. The torches burned low, sputtering against damp stone. Somewhere down the passage, you could hear the slow drip of water, the groan of ancient pipes. Familiar sounds.

The other ones - the ones that weren't supposed to exist - you kept locked tight behind your ribs.

You hadn't meant to become a Legilimens. Hadn't studied it, hadn't even known the word when it first happened. It had just. . . started. It started as barely audible whispers at first. At eleven years old, you'd thought everyone heard them - snatches of feeling, flickers of thought that didn't belong to you.

It wasn't until second year, during a Charms duel, that you'd understood: when your opponent raised her wand and spat a hex - and you had already known she was going to - because you had heard her panicked mind scream "Left - aim for her left!" before she ever moved.

You’d dodged without thinking. You won without even expecting an upper-hand thanks to hearing her thoughts and you’d walked back to the Slytherin huddle under curious eyes, your skin cold with the realization that something was wrong.

There were rules about things like this, from everything you have read so far.

Legilimency was dark magic in most people's eyes - an invasion, a violation - a talent reserved for those who couldn't be trusted. Monsters wore polite faces. Mind readers didn't get second chances.

So you told no one. Not even your dormmates, whose secrets you could taste sometimes when they laughed too hard.

And most days, it was fine. Manageable. If you stayed guarded. If you didn't look too closely. It only slipped when people were loud inside - when their feelings boiled over and the world around you blurred at the edges and suddenly their thoughts weren’t behind their teeth anymore, but bleeding out into yours.

You hadn't meant to overhear anyone.

But here, in the long velvet dark of Hogwarts, the mind had no walls.

Potions was a war zone on a good day. On a bad day, when the Gryffindors shared the clasroom with Slytherins, it was mutually assured destruction. Why the professors allow for this inter-house collaboration was beyond you, if there was a house the snakes mildly respect other than themselves - it would be the Ravenclaws.

You sat at your usual table near the back, carefully slicing a bundle of valerian roots, pretending not to notice James Potter throwing glances your way like hexes. He was always known to prank Slytherins, and you were not straying his radar with how you competed on the pitch often.

You anticipated it but still braced yourself for impact.

"Careful, ____," he drawled loud enough for half the room to hear. "Wouldn’t want you brewing up something - oh, I don't know - illegal."

You didn't even flinch, you saw the insult coming a mile away and barely rolled your eyes at how lame it was.

"Touching concern, Potter," you murmured, not looking up. "Planning to report me to the authorities or just desperate for my attention again?"

A few Gryffindors snickered. Lily Evans shot James a warning glare over her cauldron. He ignored it with practiced ease, an amused smile playing at his lips.

He strode closer, arms folded, the portrait of a boy who’d never been told no. Which is funny given how he's very much like a spoiled pureblood heir, only his robe colours were different.

You neglected to point out how great he would be in your house, he’d thrive alongside the other snot-nosed pureblood brats.

"Just making sure the dark wizard training program’s running on schedule," he said, smirking. "Be a shame if someone as - what's the term? Frighteningly competent - wasn't putting in the hours."

You looked up then, meeting his gaze coolly and that was when it happened.

The world shifted - not outwardly, not visibly - but inside your head, the way it always did when someone's emotions rose too high and their mind got too loud. And James Potter, his mind was practically screaming at you, demanding to be invaded.

James's smirk stayed fixed on his face, not faltering even when your sharp gaze held his - full of mockery and bravado.

But beneath it, like a crack in the ice, you heard:

"Look at her. Smug. Brilliant. Bloody hell, she's so pretty it’s infuriating."

Your knife slipped, slicing too hard through the root. You caught yourself enough for anyone to not notice the stumble - steady hands with no visible flinch - but your heart jumped painfully against your ribs.

Stay calm.

Stay normal.

Outwardly, you quirked a brow. "If you spent half as much time on your coursework as you do worrying about me, Potter, you might actually pass your exams."

More laughter. A few Gryffindors - Sirius Black among them - hooted loud enough to make Slughorn look up from his desk.

James flushed slightly, his smirk faltering before he masked it with exaggerated affront.

You went back to your valerian root, slicing with vicious precision, pretending your ears weren’t ringing with the echo of his mind’s betrayal.

He hated you, he said. You were rivals, he said.

And yet.

"Bloody hell, she's so pretty it’s infuriating."

You didn't even want to think about what else he might be shouting inside that head of his.

You just had to survive the rest of class without cracking first.

The library was supposed to be a safe place - for you. Just you and the books and the quietness, somehow people's thoughts are quieter here. They get too focused that your abilities were not being demanded by their thoughts.

Low voices, scratching quills, sound of parchment - no loud Gryffindor boys itching for a fight. No accidental mind-reading incidents. Just quiet.

Or it should have been.

You hunched over a thick tome on advanced defensive charms, trying and pathetically failing to focus. The words blurred, your mind replaying Potions over and over.

'Look at her. Smug. Brilliant. Bloody hell, she's so pretty it’s infuriating.'

You shook your head sharply.

"No," you muttered under your breath. "No way."

Maybe you'd misheard. There was absolutely no way, the lack of sleep from slaving over N.E.W.T.s and the nearing Gryffindor vs Slytherin Quidditch match was getting to you, taking its toll. You convince yourself that was all.

Maybe James Potter didn't actually think you were. . . that.

You sank lower in your seat, dragging a hand across your face.

You had rules about this. You never took strong flashes from someone and assumed they were true. Minds were messy, complicated things. Thoughts didn't always mean anything.

Still. You started noticing it.

The next day in Charms, you caught James looking at you across the room, chin propped on his hand, staring. When you met his gaze, he immediately dropped a book on the floor and made a big show of retrieving it.

Later, walking down the corridor between classes, you heard him before you saw him - laughing too loudly with Sirius, knocking shoulders with Peter Pettigrew, and the second he spotted you, his whole posture changed. Straighter. And then, predictably, he opened his mouth.

"Watch it, snake," he called, as you passed.

You rolled your eyes and kept walking, but your fingers twitched at your sides. Because even though his words were full of spite, his mind had been humming loud enough to burn:

"There she is. Merlin, she’s - "

You cut yourself off before the thought fully formed. You didn't want to know.

James Potter was many things - loud, insufferable, reckless - but he couldn't actually like you.

Could he?

You buried yourself deeper into your books, trying to drown out the noise - both outside and inside your head.

But the thing about secrets was: they had a way of refusing to stay quiet for long.

The air still smelled like grass and almost-rain when you cut across the pitch, broom slung lazily over one shoulder.

You’d only come to watch - Slytherin practice had ended hours ago - but somehow you’d found yourself lingering, pretending to study the Gryffindor formations. Pretending not to watch a certain messy-haired idiot loop the sky like he owned it.

You should have left.

You should have.

Boots scuffed behind you. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

"Well, well, well," James Potter's voice drawled, closer than you expected. "Didn't realize Slytherins were so obsessed with Gryffindor athleticism."

You snorted, not bothering to face him yet. "Don't flatter yourself, Potter. I was studying your mistakes."

He caught up easily, falling into step beside you as you made for the gates. His hair was still damp from flying, sticking to his forehead. There was a smudge of mud across his cheek, and he grinned like he hadn't a care in the world.

"Sure you were, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt - but your heart stuttered.

Because even before it hit you fully, you could feel it - the swell of emotion, bright and reckless, practically leaking out of him.

And then you heard it:

"If she knew what I really thought of her, I'd die. I'd let her hex me if it meant she'd touch me."

You stumbled.

Just a little. Just enough that you hoped he thought you tripped on the uneven ground.

But inside? There is absolute chaos brewing in you.

You recovered quickly, shooting him a scathing look, but James only laughed - like you were the most amusing thing he'd seen all day. Given the track record of his thoughts, there might be some weight to that.

He ruffled his already-ruined hair and gave you a wink that nearly made you want to hex him on principle.

"Careful, snake. Wouldn't want you falling for me."

You scoffed. "As if."

But your mind was spinning.

Because it was real. All of it - the glances, the smirks, the insults that were less venom and more cover.

James Potter didn’t hate you. He hated how much he wanted you.

The night was unbearably still, the only sound the quiet ripple of the Black Lake against the shore. You sat by the water, your knees drawn up to your chest, staring at the moonlight dancing on the surface. Your breath came in slow, measured patterns, but inside, it was chaos.

You liked coming here to help calm yourself - the sound of the soft ripples of water, the loneliness of it all as the moon shone brightly. Finally, it's quiet - truly quiet.

No person around whose privacy you could invade.

You had never wanted to know what others were thinking. You had never asked for this. But it had happened. You were a Legilimens.

And now, you knew too much.

James Potter likes you. He wants you.

The thought shouldn’t have had the power it did. It shouldn’t have twisted inside you like this, leaving you cold and unsettled. But it did. And you hated yourself for it.

You could still hear his voice, taunting you in Potions, the insults he threw your way. "Dark wizard in training," he'd called you, his words sharp and cruel. But it wasn’t his words that hurt, was it? It was the thoughts beneath them.

"Bloody hell, she's gorgeous when she's angry."

You froze, the echo of those words still too fresh, too sharp.

But you couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t let anyone know as it would open a pandora’s box of undesirables you dared not explore outside the wee hours when your head feels like it might cave in on itself.

Legilimency was a curse. It was rare, dangerous, and feared. Wizards who had been caught using it had been cast out, exiled to live on the fringes of society. Families had been ruined, careers destroyed.

And worse - those who could read minds were feared. There were whispers about what those with the power could do with it. How easily they could manipulate people. Control them.

Or perhaps the articles and books you have read were just laying it on very thick, making a spectacle out of something that was out of what society considered ordinary but you couldn’t risk it.

As a Slytherin, it was in your nature to always preserve yourself. Your well-being came first, so every action is well thought-out for your benefit - including hiding your ability away in shame.

People don't take kindly to having their minds read, the mind is one very powerful thing - a vast vault of secrets. You could very well weaponize people’s thoughts and secrets against them.

You’d keep quiet. Keep pretending you didn’t know. Even if it gnawed at you from the inside. Even if every part of you screamed to just tell him, to confront him, to understand what the hell was going on in that arrogant Gryffindor head of his.

You swallowed hard, standing up and brushing your hands off on your robes. The weight of your secret settled like lead in your chest.

You’ll pretend. You’ll keep it secret. And maybe - just maybe - you’ll survive.

Because that is why the hat sorted you to wear green robes, because you were not the type to grab James Potter by his tie to confront him and demand some explanation for the things he thought about you.

You walked back toward the castle, the darkness wrapping around you like a cloak. The sound of your footsteps on the cobblestone echoed in the quiet night.

The cauldron before you is bubbling with that familiar greenish glow, steam rising like smoke. Your fingers are quick, precise - just the right amount of crushed powdered moonstone, stirred counterclockwise, steady, controlled.

James Potter is sitting across from you, as always, only this time he's making a show of it. His elbows are planted on the table, chin in his palm, eyes fixed on you. And that smug expression. The one that makes your insides twist.

"Look at her. She’s so - "

You shut the thought out. It is your absolute misfortune that he settled on sharing a table with you when the Professor demanded some inter-house collaboration for today’s class due to Dumbledore’s insistence.

It doesn’t matter. You have a potion to finish.

But, of course, James never misses an opportunity to make you hate him just a little bit more - if hate is truly what you have been feeling.

“You’re stealing looks at me, _____. Thinking of what unforgivable to use, eh?”

You barely hear the words, your mind too focused on the process in front of you. But you hear the tone. You always hear the tone. And that’s enough.

You don’t look up from your potion, but the words slide out of your mouth like a reflex, sharp as ever. “What’s your problem, Potter? Can’t keep your mouth shut for one class?”

The words are meant to sting, meant to remind him that this rivalry isn’t just one-sided. But as you snap at him, the air thick with the tension of old wounds, your own mind is buzzing with something far worse.

"Merlin, she smells amazing."

The thought - completely out of nowhere slams into your mind like a train. Your hands falter for a second, a stray drop of essence splashing over the edge of your cauldron. You curse under your breath.

But that’s nothing compared to the way your heart jumps in your chest.

"Stop thinking about her like that, Potter. Just focus."

It’s like his voice is in your head - no, not just his voice. It’s his thoughts. His internal struggle, raw and unfiltered. And it’s all about you, as if all the time spent learning at Hogwarts were useless when all he could think about was you, you, you.

You almost choke. Almost spill the entire potion.

But you don’t. You manage to keep your face cool, eyes fixed on your cauldron. You won’t let him see the effect he’s having on you.

James doesn’t see the way you flinch, the way you want to scream and laugh all at once. He doesn’t know that you can hear every stupid, misguided thought racing through his head.

He’s still talking, probably making fun of you, probably insulting your potion-making technique. But inside, it’s all just a blur of "please don’t notice", how good you smell and "how is she this good at everything?"

You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep pretending you hate him, when his equally-annoying voice spouted compliments and confessions in your head. Like he was right by your ear screaming them.

But you have to. Because you know. You know what he’s thinking. What he really thinks about you. And it’s driving you mad - as much as he is driving himself mad.

"She’s making it look so easy. Stop it, James."

You don’t flinch this time. You just keep your hands steady, your face calm, pretending like none of it’s happening. Pretending like the weight of his thoughts isn’t burning through your skin, making you want to dunk your head into the boiling cauldron.

It’s maddening. And you’re beginning to wonder how much longer you can keep pretending you don’t know.

The Quidditch pitch was alive with energy, the roar of the crowd drowning out all other sounds. Gryffindor versus Slytherin - the match everyone was waiting for, one that had your Quidditch captain on everyone’s rears all semester.

The teams soared high, the Quaffle exchanged between players as they raced towards the goalposts. It was fast, furious, and wildly competitive.

You gripped your broom tightly, eyes locked on the Quaffle as you swerved past a Bludger. You were focused, focused enough that you could almost tune out everything else - everything, except for him.

Merlin, despite the heat and chaos of the match, you could still hear him through them with how absolutely loud he was as if he was projecting his thoughts to you on purpose.

James Potter, the Gryffindor starchaser, was on the opposite team. The moment you locked eyes, he flashed that insufferable grin, like he’d already won. He was always cocky, always loud. But this time, it felt different. There was something in the way he was watching you.

"Watch out, snake!" he shouted, a taunt just loud enough for everyone to hear as you flew past him.

You didn't flinch, too used to the hostility. Instead, you focused on the Quaffle, your eyes scanning for an opening. You threw it, perfect precision, straight through the left hoop. Score. The crowd erupted into cheers, but the sound felt distant compared to the pounding in your ears.

But there it was again. His voice. Not in the air, but inside your head.

"She’s so good at this. Bloody hell, how does she do that?" James’ thoughts interrupted everything, like a crashing wave. "She moves like - like she was born to fly. Makes me want to just - "

You clenched your jaw, trying to force the thoughts out of your head. This was bad. So bad. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t block out the next wave of thoughts that flooded your mind.

"I want to snog her senseless."

It hit you like a jolt to the chest. You had to swallow the sudden rush of heat in your throat. You didn’t dare look at him, not with the intensity of what was going on in his head.

The game was still raging on, but your focus was slipping. You were just trying to keep it together, trying to pretend this was normal - that it didn’t matter that James Potter, the James Potter, was thinking about you like that.

He wasn’t just mocking you any more. His admiration was clear, cutting through every insult and joke. It made everything ultimately worse.

You caught another pass - biting the insides of your cheeks, dodging a Bludger, and went for another shot. But now it wasn’t just about the game. It wasn’t about scoring or winning.

It was about trying to control your emotions - when everything in you wanted to break the rules. To reach out. To tell him what you were hearing.

But you couldn’t.

Because the last thing you needed was for him to find out just how much you felt the same.

You were unsure how to process the realization that not only is James Potter besotted with you, but you liked him back. You, the Slytherin chaser who he exchanged insults with on a daily every Potions class was just as besotted.

It is truly a doomed plot written out for some sick god’s entertainment watching you run around like a headless Hippogriff.

So here you are, ending up yet again in the black lake during wee hours, escaping the castle undetected yet again. It is the only place that could truly calm you down when even your own ehad gets too loud.

Unbeknownst to you was the Gryffindor hiding under an invisibility cloak, watching you. His eyes studied your face that seemed much more softer in the dead of night, how all the frown left you and all that remained was your features all bare.

He felt the strong urge to reach out, but that would reveal the fact he followed you. He noticed you leaving the castle on the map, and out of concern snuck out to follow you under the cloak. He knew the dangers outside the castle walls, he just wanted to make sure you were safe.

He did not expect to invade your privacy as you looked out into the lake like a person who had the entire weight of the world. He wonders just what could be going on inside your mind, wishing he could peer into it and maybe, maybe he could take some of that weight off.

He gripped his wand, feeling defeated.

He can’t even let you know how much he worries about you, how much he wonders about you - because that would be confronting the fact he has fallen for the enemy. That he would be going against his beliefs.

James Potter is an idiot. And he wanted nothing more than to snog you but instead he always resorts to insults, failing to do right by the bravery prided by his house.

You couldn’t hear his thoughts under the cloak, so you remained unaware of the boy watching you with so much love in his eyes that you were two hopeless idiots dancing around it.

“Merlin,” you breathed out exasperatedly. James Potter is not someone to lose sleep over, you knew that much should be true but nothing is working. No essay on Ancient Runes could distract you enough.

The school year was nearing its end. Despite yourself, you still managed to dodge out of confronting your feelings for one annoyingly-persistent Gryffindor and made it through passing your N.E.W.T.s with flying colours.

You had a decent set of “O” and “E” from your results, not getting anything less than Exceeding Expectations. Your parents are satisfied, not that you have ever failed them. Being a Slytherin is basically being bred for perfection.

Your academics and pureblood duties were already weighing on you but then -

“Oi, snake!” right.

James Potter is that one itch you can’t quite scratch enough to get rid of. A very handsome itch with a perfect set of teeth, that is.

“Sod off, Potter,” you roll your eyes as if following a perfected script by now, “I have better shit to do than deal with your childish antics.”

He frowned, something about the way you said it alerted him. There was no bite from that, all he heard was the exhaust from your voice as if you had forced those words out of you. He wanted to ask if you were okay, he thought it.

Before he could ask, you already gave an answer.

“I’m bloody fine,” you scoff. “Since when did you care?”

His frown deepened, impossibly so. He hadn’t asked it yet. You heard his confused pool of thoughts and your mistake began to dawn on you, you look at him, panicked and backed away before he could get another word out.

He must have called out your name, you weren’t sure. So you just made a run for it to avoid whatever he was about to say.

He ran after you, not bothering to entertain Sirius’ confused inquiry as he watched his best mate chase after a Slytherin. He didn’t think it was anything James needed backup with so he only watched, nudging Remus next to him who also watched.

“What do you think that’s about?” Sirius asked, face unreadable.

Remus let out an amused chuckle. “That, mate, is young love blossoming.”

Sirius gagged, which was the reaction Remus anticipated, wording his phrase that way. “Prongs and that snake?”

“Blimey, you are bloody clueless.”

James had managed to catch up to you before you could turn and see the dungeons common room. Grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you back so you could face him, he called out your name again but your heart was too loud.

“Can you stop running away?” he asked, barely raising his voice. “What’s wrong?”

You turn at him, glaring. Tugging at your wrist to free it but he was not letting you go, you let out an exhausted groan and you only paused when a look of worry painted itself over his features as he watch you struggle out of his grasp.

“____?” he called out, his voice impossibly soft when saying your name that it almost made your knees buckle.

You blink at me. “Say you hate me,” you tell him and you wanted so badly for it to also be echoed in his head.

“What?” he couldn’t explain your actions and it was worrying him beyond belief. You could almost feel your eye twitch at him.

“Say you hate me,” you tug at your wrist, “and mean it, Potter. Fucking say you hate my guts, and also think it in that thick skull of yours.”

“Merlin, ____,” James sounded desperate. “What is going on with you? Lost your wits after N.E.W.T.s?”

You felt unbelievably angry at this moment but it was more directed at yourself than him. Though he thought it was aimed at him, so he threaded carefully. Slowly letting go of your wrist and it dropped limply at your side.

“Yeah, Potter, totally went nuts after the exams so I’m demanding you express your hatred for me,” you remark sarcastically, he did not appreciate it one bit. “Just say it.”

“No,” James replied right away sternly. “You are losing it.”

“How can I not?” You point angrily at him.

“____ - “

“You say one thing and you think another,” there was no going back now as the tears welled up in your eyes, all his confusion left him and all that was left was worry. “I can hear you, your thoughts.”

All the words he knew left him. Jaw slackened, he remained standing in front of you, unable to say anything. All this time, you heard him - how? That doesn’t really matter, his head is now replaying every thought he had of you.

Fucking hell.

Fucking mumbling, bloody hell.

“I didn’t mean to, I know it’s your privacy and I wasn’t going to - “ you cast your eyes down, afraid to see how disgusted he’d look when he realizes what you were confessing. “I couldn’t control it.”

James allowed a beat to pass, just a pregnant pause between you two as the hall remained empty, much to both of your delights. Then finally, he found his voice. He cleared his throat, afraid his voice would crack.

“You mean - you’ve heard all my thoughts about you.”

You managed to smile despite the tension, “Yes, including wanting to snog me senseless,” you saw the smile tug at his lips. You still refused to meet his eyes, “Your mind is very loud. I couldn’t shut it out even if I wanted to.”

James surprised you by what he did next - crossing the gap between you two which you had expected to keep growing until he was impossibly out of reach. Instead he closed in on you, capturing your lips in his and he did right by his words -

You felt like he was stealing every breath away with how he kissed you like it could explain everything away. You kissed him back, finally allowing yourself to do one brave thing and confront your feelings instead of swallowing it all down.

His arm wrapped around your middle to pull you impossibly closer as he continued making your head lighter and lighter and only when you tapped in surrender did he pull away. You were heaving, breathless as you eyed him all bewildered.

“You -”

James Potter managed a smirk with swollen lips. “Snogged you senseless, didn’t I?”

“You twat.”

end. masterlist

#james fleamont potter #james potter #james potter marauders #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #marauders #marauders era #hp marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter marauders #harry potter marauders era

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enha-doodles · 1 year ago

Note

please do a slytherin boys reacting to you being a hufflepuff pls

SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU BEING A HUFFLEPUFF | ✧⁺。

Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore, Lorenzo , Draco) x reader

Notes : okay so now only Slytherin left and next will definately be an enhypen post , it's been too long since I posted something for them 😭

Warnings : not proofread , written in a hurry my bad guys

MATTHEO RIDDLE

Mattheo's smirk widens as he gazes at you, unable to contain his amusement. "Well, well, well, my dear Hufflepuff," he begins, his tone playful yet affectionate, "aren't you just the epitome of kindness? It's like you're allergic to anything even remotely sinister." He chuckles softly, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "But fear not, my sweet, for I'll be your guide through the shadows. Together, we'll navigate the dark corners of Hogwarts, with your innocence as our secret weapon." He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Who knows, maybe you'll even rub off on this Slytherin and teach me a thing or two about being... less evil." He winks, his playful tone laced with genuine fondness for you. "But until then, let's just enjoy the ride, shall we?" You can't help but laugh at his teasing, feeling a surge of affection for the charming Slytherin who's captured your heart.

TOM RIDDLE

Tom rolls his eyes at the mere mention of Hufflepuff, muttering about the insignificance of a house that values kindness above all else. He's determined to toughen you up, constantly pushing you to shed your soft exterior and embrace the cold, hard reality of the wizarding world. "Kindness is a weakness, darling," he'll growl, his gaze steely as he lectures you on the importance of ambition and cunning.

He'd manipulate you by turning you against your friends because in his eyes you are born to evil that's why you ended up with him , your friends are the wrong influence "And those so-called friends of yours? They're just wolves in sheep's clothing, waiting to take advantage of your sweet nature. But fear not, my dear, for I'll always be here to protect you" He's there even if it means scaring away every potential suitor with a well-timed glare.

THEODORE NOTT

Theodore can't help but chuckle at the irony of your Hufflepuff allegiance, but it's all in good fun. He'll mock you mercilessly, recounting every Slytherin victory over Hufflepuff in Quidditch or other competitions. Yet, despite his teasing, Theodore knows when to concede defeat, his love for you outweighing any petty house rivalry.

"Alright, alright, my little badger," he'll sigh, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I may be a Slytherin, but you've got me wrapped around your little finger. Just promise me you'll stop bringing up that time Hufflepuff beat us in the House Cup. It still stings, you know."

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

He'll even go as far as pretending to roar like a ferocious dog lion - oh the irony , whenever someone gets too close, much to your amusement.

Lorenzo can't resist the urge to baby you at every turn, his heart swelling with pride whenever he looks at you. He'll hover protectively by your side, his arm draped over your shoulders like a shield against the world. "My sweet little badger," he'll coo, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll protect you from every danger, real or imagined. No one's laying a finger on my precious Hufflepuff, not while I'm around."

DRACO MALFOY

Draco's annoyance is as evident as ever, his aristocratic features twisted into a perpetual scowl (his resting face actually) as he begrudgingly accepts your Hufflepuff allegiance. He'll grumble about the stupidity of your house, his annoyance palpable in every word he utters. "Hufflepuff" he'll mutter under his breath, as if the mere mention of the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

But despite his disdain, Draco can't help but crave the princess treatment you're all too willing to provide. "Fine, Hufflepuff," he'll huff, crossing his arms in a dramatic display of annoyance. "But don't think for a second that I'm not expecting extra cuddles to make up for it."

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 4 months ago

Note

I think of mc being very protective of her friends being a orphan and all. someone says the gaunts are all dark wizards? they are in the hospital wing for two weeks under strange circumstances. someone starts a nasty rumor about why Anne really left hogwarts? The worst tripping hex gets everyone who repeats the rumor. someone insults sebastian, you better pray that mc didn't hear about it she's coming for you

The Things We Do for Family | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

oh I loooooved this concept!!!! THANK YOU FOR THE ASK, ANON. I really hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it!! :')

Words: ~5,200

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House, Humor, Protective MC

There are things that Hogwarts students simply know—unchallenged truths, whispered warnings passed down from year to year.

The Forbidden Forest is dangerous. Peeves is a menace. The best snacks at Honeydukes sell out by Saturday afternoon. Don’t trust the staircases to take you where you actually want to go. Never accept Garreth Weasley’s offer to ‘test something out’.

And, under no circumstances, should anyone fuck with your friends.

It isn’t official, of course. There’s no school decree, no printed rule in the Hogwarts handbook, it's not carved into the walls. It’s just… understood.

It’s not like you’re some fearsome monster or anything.

You’re a model student, by all accounts. Brilliant. Sharp. Precise. A skilled duelist, a quick thinker, someone who turns in their assignments on time, answers when called on, and doesn’t cause disruptions in class.

You don’t start fights. You don’t pick pointless arguments. You don’t openly break the rules—not in ways that can be proven.

You play the part well.

Because that’s what you had to do.

You grew up alone. No parents. No siblings. No one to step in when things got hard, no one to defend you when the world was cruel. When you were small, scared, and helpless.

So you learned.

You learned that no one was coming to save you. You learned that fairness was a lie, that justice only existed when you carved it out with your own hands. You learned that people could be awful for no reason other than that they could get away with it.

But now? Now, you have a family. Not by blood, but by choice.

And when someone speaks against them? Bad things happen.

The Ominis Incident

It started, as most things did, with a careless remark.

A fifth-year Ravenclaw—smart but not particularly bright—thought it would be amusing to make a joke at Ominis Gaunt’s expense. A cruel one. Something about how the Gaunts were all inbred lunatics, how it was only a matter of time before Ominis ended up just like the rest of his family.

The words reached your ears in the library, drifting from a table not far from where you sat.

"You know I hear they torture Muggles for fun—it’s practically a family tradition. Gaunts don’t have hobbies, just a long history of inbreeding and Crucio."

Laughter followed, a few snickers from their table, hushed but not nearly enough. Not nearly enough to keep you from hearing.

Your quill stilled mid-word, ink pooling in place. Across from you, Ominis sat straight-backed, his expression unreadable, but you saw the way his fingers tightened around the book he was holding, knuckles whitening from the force of it.

He wouldn’t say anything.

Ominis had spent years perfecting the art of indifference. Of carefully controlled expressions, of blank politeness that masked far too much. He never reacted to comments like these.

But just because he wouldn’t didn’t mean you wouldn’t.

You exhaled slowly, carefully. Then, without a sound, you closed your book and stood.

Not a word. Not a glare in their direction. Just a smooth, effortless departure, as if you had suddenly decided the library was boring and somewhere else required your attention.

The Ravenclaws barely noticed.

But they would. They absolutely would. Because Potions class was a very dangerous place. Especially for people who talked too much.

The next day, you walked to Potions without a care in the world.

Sebastian and Ominis flanked you, deep in conversation about some essay Sharp had assigned, with Sebastian whining dramatically about how unfairly long it was, while Ominis countered that perhaps he should have started it earlier than the night before it was due.

You weren’t really listening, because you already knew what was coming.

And sure enough—just as you reached the dungeon corridor—

BOOM.

The floor trembled slightly beneath your feet. A deep, echoing explosion, the unmistakable sound of a cauldron detonating mid-brew, followed almost immediately by the frantic shouting of students.

Gasps. Choking coughs. Someone let out a screech of absolute horror.

Sebastian and Ominis startled.

Sebastian’s head snapped up, eyes wide as he looked toward the dungeon doors. “What the hell—”

Ominis twitched beside you, tilting his head, as if straining to listen.

You? Didn’t even blink. You just kept walking, calmly, like nothing was amiss, like you hadn’t been expecting it for the last twenty-four hours.

Sebastian noticed. His gaze sharpened, flicking to you with a knowing squint. “That was—”

He hesitated. Then narrowed his eyes further.

“Okay,” he said slowly, “I know that face.”

You raised a brow. “What face?”

“That’s your I-did-something-but-you’ll-never-prove-it face.”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sebastian scoffed and Ominis rolled his eyes, deadpan. “Uh-huh.”

Then the dungeon doors burst open.

A thick cloud of green smoke billowed out, sending students stumbling and coughing into the corridor. And in the center of it all, a group of very, very green Ravenclaws.

They clawed at their own skin, staring down at their hands in absolute horror. Their faces were the exact shade of an overripe toadstool, splotchy and uneven, and every time they opened their mouths, their tongues flopped out two inches too long.

Hysteria ensued.

Students gasped, some shrieked, others tried not to laugh. Professor Sharp stormed out after them, looking beyond exhausted, already massaging his temples.

“I told you,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “not to add the peppermint extract.”

“WE DIDN’T!” One Ravenclaw wailed, voice garbled from their too-long tongue. “I—I don’t know what happened! We did everything right!”

Sharp did not look convinced.

Sebastian looked at you, long and slow, a glint of admiration dawning in his eyes.

“Did you—”

“I did nothing.” You walked past him, as if the entire debacle were none of your concern. “I was with you all day, wasn’t I?”

Sebastian’s lips twitched. “Yeah, but—”

“No proof, no crime.” You gave him a cheerful smile before stepping into the classroom.

Sebastian grinned. “Oh, I love you.”

It was offhanded, thoughtless, a casual jest, but it sent a sharp, pleasant warmth down your spine.

You didn’t react, though. Just smirked, settling into your seat. Because the message had been sent.

And Ominis Gaunt would never hear a word against his name again.

The Anne Incident

Rumors at Hogwarts were a force of nature.

They swirled through the halls, slipping between whispered conversations and behind cupped hands, growing more twisted with each retelling.

Some were harmless—who was dating who, which professor had it out for which student, the occasional Did you hear Peeves stole all the ink from the Ravenclaws again? But some? Some were cruel.

And this one... this one was about Anne Sallow.

It started at breakfast, when you overheard a group of Slytherin sixth-years in the Great Hall. You weren’t eavesdropping—not intentionally—but you had a habit of noticing things, of hearing too much when you weren’t meant to.

"Did you hear about Sallow’s sister?"

"Yeah, I heard she went mad."

"Lost it completely. The curse must’ve rotted her brain."

"That’s why she left, isn’t it?"

"Yeah, I heard she tried to hex someone in her sleep—"

Your fork warped in your grasp. A slow, controlled bend beneath your fingers, the metal bending in your grip.

Across from you, Sebastian had gone still.

He didn’t turn. Didn’t react. Didn’t give them the satisfaction.

But you saw the way his jaw clenched. The way his hand curled into a fist against the table. The way his entire body had gone taut, locked in place by sheer force of will.

He wouldn’t do anything.

Not because he didn’t want to. Not because he wasn’t capable of it—because he was.

Sebastian Sallow could be ruthless. You knew that better than anyone. You’d seen it firsthand, the sharp edges of his temper, the way his rage burned hot and all-consuming, leaving nothing but wreckage in its wake. You’d seen what happened when he felt cornered, when he thought he was out of options.

But he wasn’t that boy anymore. Because you and Ominis had dragged him back from the brink. Because you had looked him in the eye, years ago, when the dust had settled and the worst of it was over, and told him:

"You still have a future. Don’t throw it away."

Against all odds, he had listened. And now, this was his last year at Hogwarts and he was going to be an Auror. He was going to start over. Prove that he wasn’t just some reckless, violent delinquent one step away from Azkaban.

So no—he wouldn’t react. He wouldn’t take the bait. Wouldn't defend Anne, no matter how badly he wanted to. Wouldn’t let himself be dragged down into the same pit he’d barely crawled out of.

Sebastian was playing the long game.

But you? You weren’t.

Your revenge on Anne's behalf started small. Almost imperceptible.

The first Slytherin—the one who had started the conversation in the first place—was walking to class when it happened.

A single misstep.

His foot caught on something—thin air, perhaps—and he staggered forward, arms flailing in a desperate attempt to right himself. It didn’t work. His books went flying, parchment scattered across the stone corridor, and a bottle of ink tumbled from his bag, shattering upon impact and staining his robes in an ugly, irreversible mess of black.

A small accident. An unfortunate case of bad luck.

No one thought anything of it—until the second one fell.

In the exact same spot.

And then the third. And the fourth.

By the time lunch rolled around, all four of them had tripped at least half a dozen times each.

It wasn’t just limited to the corridor, either. They stumbled on staircases, barely catching themselves before they could go tumbling down. They walked straight into walls as if the castle itself had turned against them. One even managed to trip over absolutely nothing in the middle of the Great Hall and landed face-first into his own soup.

The snickers started soon after. The sideways glances. The poorly hidden laughter from classmates who found their sudden clumsiness far too entertaining.

It wasn’t enough to be suspicious.

Not yet.

Not until the moving staircase.

The ringleader of the group had spent too much time lingering in the courtyard after lunch, chatting up a group of girls who barely tolerated his presence. He realized too late that he was running behind and bolted toward Charms, racing up the moving staircases with zero grace and even less caution.

And then his foot caught.

There was nothing there. No loose stone or shift in the staircase, nothing at all to explain why he suddenly lost his footing.

But he did.

He stumbled backward, arms flailing wildly, fingers grasping at empty air as the momentum carried him too far—

And he plummeted.

Three flights.

A blur of robes and limbs, a crash of bone against stone, and then a sickening thud as he landed in a groaning, crumpled heap at the bottom.

A hush fell over the corridor.

Then—

Shrieking.

His friends rushed down to him, voices panicked, eyes wide with horrified realization as they took in his bruised, trembling form.

A girl ran to fetch Madam Blainey.

By the time she arrived, he was whimpering, clutching his arm like it might’ve snapped.

Hospital Wing. Immediate bed rest.

No one could explain what happened. No professor could find a cause. Some students claimed the stairs had shifted unexpectedly. Others swore that they saw nothing—no trick step, no loose stones, just an unseen force pulling him down.

It didn’t matter.

The moment he was carried off, you finally allowed yourself to smile.

Not a smirk. Not a grin. Just the smallest, most satisfied twitch of your lips.

Sebastian caught it. Because of course he did. He had been standing beside you the whole time. Silent. Still. Watching from the moment that asshole Slytherin stumbled earlier that morning to the moment he was carted off for medical attention.

And now? Now, he just exhaled, long and slow, shaking his head as his mouth curved into something unreadable.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, voice low.

You hummed, tilting your head in faux curiosity. “Am I?”

Sebastian turned fully then, facing you. His gaze searched your face, for guilt perhaps. For remorse. For something that might suggest you hadn’t meant for it to happen.

But there was nothing.

No trace of hesitation. No flicker of shame.

You were calm, collected, an completely unapologetic. Because nobody talked about Anne Sallow like that without consequence.

Sebastian blinked. Then, to your absolute delight, he grinned. Wide. Slow. A sharp, wicked thing.

“Yeah. You're very dangerous” he said, almost in awe.

Your stomach twisted. You ignored it. Instead, you just shrugged, voice as casual as ever.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sebastian’s grin deepened.

The Poppy Incident

Poppy Sweeting was one of the best people you knew.

Kind-hearted, patient, and too good for the world, really. She spent more time in the company of magical creatures than she did with most people, and honestly? You couldn't blame her.

Because people could be cruel.

You first heard it one afternoon in the courtyard. A group of girls whispering amongst themselves, giggling behind their hands. You hadn’t been paying much attention—until you heard her name.

"Honestly, she’s weird."

"I know, right? It’s like she’d rather date a bloody Hippogriff than an actual person."

"Wouldn’t be surprised if she actually has."

Laughter, sharp and mocking. Like Poppy Sweeting was a joke. Like she was less than because she chose kindness over cruelty, creatures over people who didn’t deserve her time in the first place.

You turned your head and watched as one girl—a Hufflepuff, ironically—rolled her eyes, shaking her head in exaggerated exasperation.

"Beast-lover," she muttered, nose wrinkled like the word itself was distasteful. "It's unnatural, really. No wonder she doesn't have any friends outside of her precious Mooncalves."

Something cold and sharp settled in your chest.

You had no doubt Poppy had heard it. She was standing just a few paces away near the fountain, hands clenched tight at her sides.

She didn’t react. Didn’t turn. Didn’t say anything. She just exhaled, slow and quiet, like she was forcing herself to let it go.

You wouldn’t.

The next morning, that very same Hufflepuff woke up covered in fur.

Not all over, just her face.

A thick, fluffy coat of golden-brown fuzz, soft as a Puffskein, sprouting in wild patches across her forehead, cheeks, and chin.

According to Poppy, the screams started immediately, and the entire girls dormitory had woken up to it.

The girl, who turned out to be a fifth-year, had flown into a hysterical panic, shrieking as she bolted for a mirror, hands frantically scrubbing at her face like she could rub the fur away.

She couldn’t.

It was a very specific hex. One that lasted exactly one week.

Professor Ronen was baffled.

Madam Blainey was thoroughly fascinated.

And Professor Howin, bless her, had cooed over her like she was the most adorable thing she’d ever seen. You had a front row seat to the entire thing during Beasts class.

“This is truly fascinating,” she’d said, holding the girl’s chin and turning her face slightly toward the light. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen transfiguration manifest quite like this! And so soft—feels just like a Kneazle’s coat, doesn’t it?”

The best part? It wasn’t harmful. It wasn’t painful. Just… humiliating.

You considered it a job well done.

When Howin had dismissed you for lunch, Poppy pulled you aside. She didn't say anything at first. Just stared.

You blinked at her, tilting your head. “Everything alright?”

Poppy squinted. Narrowed her eyes slightly. Huffed.

"You did that, didn’t you?"

You blinked again.

Because Poppy—sweet, gentle, pacifist Poppy—did not accuse people of things. Which meant she was completely certain.

You just smiled, giving her your most innocent expression. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Poppy just sighed, shaking her head. But then—just for a moment—she smiled.

Small. Subtle. Grateful.

Like she knew exactly what you’d done. Like she knew there was no use arguing, no point in telling you not to go to such lengths for her.

And then, without a word, she reached out and squeezed your hand.

The Natsai Incident

You had never liked Callum Thorne.

Seventh-year. Gryffindor. Arrogant. Loud-mouthed. The kind of person who had never been told no in his life and walked through Hogwarts like the world owed him something.

You’d tolerated him for years, mostly because you hadn’t needed to interact with him much. But this? This was different.

You were starting the day with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Hecat had yet to arrive, leaving the class unsupervised and giving Thorne the perfect opportunity to make a scene.

Natty was speaking with Poppy near the front of the room, voice calm as she explained something about the Ministry’s policies on magical creatures in Africa compared to Britain. She wasn’t being loud, wasn’t even arguing, just explaining.

That’s when Thorne scoffed.

“Merlin’s sake, Onai, give it a rest,” he sneered from the back of the room, tossing his quill onto his desk with an exaggerated huff. “Do you ever get tired of standing on that bloody soapbox of yours?”

The room went still.

Natty turned, slow and deliberate, her expression unreadable, regarding him with that same poised, unshaken calm that made her such a force to be reckoned with.

“I was simply having a discussion,” she said smoothly. “No one is forcing you to listen, Thorne.”

“Right,” he drawled. “Except you never shut up about it. Always talking about ‘justice’ and ‘change’ like you think you’re going to fix the whole bloody world.” He smirked. “News flash, Onai—no one cares.”

A few of his friends chuckled.

Your fingernails dug into your palm.

Natty didn’t react—not outwardly, anyway. She just exhaled, slow and measured, and turned back to Poppy like his words had been nothing more than an inconvenience.

You? You were already plotting his downfall, and luckily, Callum Thorne was a creature of habit.

He always stayed out after curfew to flirt with whatever unfortunate girl he had chosen that week, and he always went up to the Astronomy Tower afterwards with his friends to play cards and drink whatever contraband alcohol they’d smuggled into the castle.

Which made him the perfect target.

That night, as the seventh-year tidied up the cards, stretching and yawning, likely already thinking about his warm bed waiting for him—

His legs froze in place. Not a Full Body-Bind. No, this was different.

A soft, subtle hex. A slow, creeping sensation, his feet adhering to the stone beneath him, then his calves, then his thighs.

By the time he realized something was wrong, it was too late.

He tried to step forward—failed. Tried to yank himself free—failed.

And then—with agonizing slowness—his entire body began to lift off the ground. No warning. No control.

He drifted upward, weightless, helpless, arms flailing as the stone ceiling came closer and closer—

And then, with a soft thump, he was stuck. Face-down, body pressed flat against the Astronomy Tower ceiling.

His screaming started immediately.

Loud. Panicked. A complete meltdown.

His friends, who had started their walk down the tower came bolting back up the stairs at the sound of his shouting.

“What the—?” one of them started, eyes wide as they gawked at the ceiling.

“Thorne?” another asked, dumbfounded.

You bit the inside of your cheek, holding back laughter as you hid beneath your disillusionment charm.

“GET ME DOWN!” Thorne bellowed, arms and legs flailing uselessly against the stone. “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS?”

His friends stared, uselessly waving their wands, muttering counterspells that only resulted in Thorne spinning in slow circles, howling in distress.

When they realized they were utterly helpless, panic completely set in.

“What do we do?” one of them asked, looking between the others with wild eyes. “Should we get a professor?”

Thorne snarled. “NO! DO NOT—”

But it was too late. Because at that very moment, the Astronomy Tower door swung open once again, and a very tired, very unimpressed Professor Shah stepped inside.

There was a long, painful beat of silence.

Shah took in the scene.

The stack of contraband firewhiskey bottles on the table. The panicked seventh-years, wands still drawn, looking entirely too guilty. And Callum Thorne, still face-down, circling against the ceiling, hissing every curse word known to wizardkind.

She sighed, long and slow, as if she had simply had enough of this entire generation of students. Then, with an effortless flick of her wand, she cast a single spell.

And gravity returned. All at once. Thorne plummeted like a sack of bricks.

The landing was spectacular. A glorious, sprawling heap, limbs tangled, robes askew, one shoe missing entirely. His friends didn’t even try to catch him.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then—

“Hospital Wing,” Shah said simply, rubbing her temples. “Now.”

Thorne was half-carried, half-dragged down the tower steps, groaning the entire way.

And you?

You slept soundly that night.

By morning, half the school had heard the story.

"Did you hear about Thorne? Got stuck to the Astronomy Tower ceiling last night."

"He was crying by the time they got him down."

"Serves him right—bloke’s a complete asshole."

And you? You sat perfectly composed at breakfast, casually stirring your tea, listening as his friends panicked about who could have done it.

Sebastian, of course, knew.

He sat beside you, arms folded, lips pressed together, shaking with the effort not to laugh.

Finally, he exhaled, tilting his head toward you.

“You are actually unhinged,” he murmured, utterly delighted.

You simply sipped your tea. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Across the hall, Natty smiled.

Soft. Knowing.

The Sebastian Incident

You had been careful.

For years, you had woven your revenge into the shadows, never once leaving a trace of your involvement in the strange misfortunes that befell those who dared to insult your friends. You were precise, patient, undetectable.

But everyone has a breaking point. And yours? Yours was Sebastian Sallow.

It happened in the Great Hall when Scorpius Malfoy decided to idiotically open his big fucking mouth.

You hadn’t been paying attention to him at first. Why would you? People like Malfoy had never mattered to you. He was just another spoiled pureblood, another self-important waste of a surname who thought his words carried weight simply because he could afford to say them.

But then his voice cut through the din, and he said Sebastian’s name.

"No family name worth a damn, no money, no influence. Honestly, I don’t even know why the professors still put up with Sallow. And he’s an orphan, isn’t he?"

One of his friends nodded, grinning like this was some kind of joke. Like Sebastian Sallow’s entire life was nothing more than a punchline.

Malfoy snorted. "So he's got dead parents, a dead uncle, and a crippled sister who’ll probably never set foot in the wizarding world again. Wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up rotting in the same gutter he came from."

The words landed like a curse.

Sebastian had been mid-conversation with you, fork in hand, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he teased you about something inconsequential—some throwaway joke that would have normally earned him an eye roll and a shove.

But now? Now, he wasn’t moving. Not speaking. Not breathing. Just silent.

Rigid.

Like the weight of those words had turned him into stone.

And something inside you snapped.

It was almost funny, in retrospect, how much effort you had spent perfecting the art of subtlety.

Every step you had taken over the years had been measured, every spell carefully woven into the fabric of coincidence, every act of vengeance so meticulously placed that no one had ever been able to definitively trace it back to you. You had built a flawless reputation, balancing on the razor’s edge between brilliance and menace, justice and mystery.

But now? Now, as you rose from your seat, you weren’t careful at all.

You didn’t move like a shadow, didn’t cloak yourself in misdirection or the comfort of silence. No. This time, you wanted them to see you.

And the moment you stood, the Great Hall stilled.

Students stopped eating, stopped talking, stopped moving altogether. The clatter of plates and goblets faded into a thick, suffocating silence, as if even the walls of Hogwarts itself were holding their breath.

Your voice came out low. Cold.

"Say that one more time, Malfoy."

Scorpius turned lazily, like he hadn’t a care in the world. Like he hadn’t just spat on Sebastian’s entire existence for no other reason than because he could.

And he smirked. Merlin, he smirked. Like you were some insignificant thing, an insect buzzing too close to his ear.

“Oh?” he drawled, tilting his head. “Touched a nerve, have I? Which part got to you, I wonder? The fact that Sallow’s got no family? Or the part where I pointed out that he’s got no future either?”

You took a step forward. You could hear Ominis hissing at you to stop, to think about what you were doing before you got yourself deep into shit, gut you couldn't. Not when it came to your friends.

Not when it came to Sebastian.

Especially when he still hadn't moved. Hadn’t reacted. Hadn’t so much as breathed.

Your hand tightened around your wand, the weight of it comforting, grounding, an extension of the fury curling in your chest.

"You should tread carefully, Scorpius," you murmured, your voice smooth, edged with something lethal. "I know you think you're clever—that you can say whatever you like without consequence, just because you were born into the right family."

Your head tilted slightly, gaze sharp, cutting straight through him.

"But you should know something about me by now."

Malfoy’s smirk faltered just slightly. And then, before he could open his mouth again—

You flicked your wand.

Hard. Fast.

Malfoy's goblet exploded.

A concussive blast of magic sent shards flying, the remnants of his beverage splattering across his pristine uniform like spilled blood. A jagged edge of glass sliced across his hand, thin but deep, and he flinched, eyes snapping down to it with genuine shock.

"If you're going to run your mouth about my friends," you said coolly, watching him clutch his bleeding hand, "then you should be prepared to suffer for it."

Your next spell came before he could react. Before anyone could stop you.

A sharp twist of your wrist, and his mouth was gone.

Not silenced. Not muffled. Just… gone. Smooth, unbroken skin where lips should be, like his voice had simply been erased from existence.

The realization hit him immediately.

His hands shot to his face, clawing at his skin, a muffled scream—horrified, panicked—rising in his throat. He lurched backward, knocking into one of his friends, fingers digging at face like he could carve his lips back into place.

But you weren’t done. Not yet.

You needed something that would etch itself into the bones of this castle, into the minds of every single person watching in stunned silence. Something that told the whole goddamn school that if they so much as breathed wrong about Sebastian again, you would ruin them.

A simple hex would be too merciful. A standard jinx—something temporary, something easily countered—wouldn’t send the right message.

No, you needed something else. Something only you could undo.

Your wand rose, fingers tightening around the handle.

A familiar thrumming sensation curled through your bones, crackling at your fingertips, humming beneath your skin like a storm about to break. Ancient magic—the power that had followed you since the day you first stepped foot in Hogwarts, the magic that had made you different. You had never used it publicly. Never allowed yourself to tap into it in a room full of hundreds of witnesses.

Until now.

Malfoy’s body lurched.

Not by his own will, but by yours, by the ancient, crackling force curling through your veins.

The entire room gasped as he was wrenched upward, his robes twisting violently around him as though an invisible hand had grabbed him by the throat and hauled him into the sky.

He thrashed, or tried to, but the moment he moved, the spell struck.

A jolt of electricity tore through his body.

Not enough to kill. Not enough to cause permanent harm, but enough to make him scream. Or at least, he would have screamed—if he still had a mouth.

Instead, a choked, garbled sound tore from his throat, half agony, half suffocated panic, his limbs seizing as the current snapped down his spine, through his arms and legs.

And you let them watch, let the entire Great Hall bear witness as he hung there, suspended like some grotesque marionette.

And the moment he tried to move again, tried to scratch at where his mouth should be or flail his limbs, another arc of lightning danced across his body, snapping against his skin like a promise that any attempt to fight this would only make it worse.

And he knew. They all knew. He wasn’t getting down until you allowed it. But your arm didn’t waver, you held your wand high, like an executioner delivering final judgment.

Because this? This was a declaration. A statement. A message carved into the very bones of Hogwarts itself.

You do not speak against Sebastian Sallow.

You wondered if he realized that you would have done this a thousand times over. That you would have burned the entire goddamn world for him if he asked.

But before you could do anything more—before you could decide how far you were willing to take this—

A thunderous voice shattered the moment.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!"

The spell snapped. Malfoy dropped. His body crashed onto the table below, sending plates and goblets scattering, silverware clattering to the stone floor. He lay there, twitching, gasping, pathetically small as the last of the magic flickered out of his limbs.

And then—

"You."

Phineas Nigellus Black’s voice was pure ice.

You turned to face him—not a shred of regret, not a flicker of guilt in your expression.

But the Headmaster was raging. His hands were clenched at his sides, his teeth bared in fury.

The entire room was still. Waiting. Holding its breath.

"My office." His voice was low, lethal, like the words themselves were a curse. "Now."

A sharp inhale from someone at the Ravenclaw table. A hushed whisper from a terrified first-year.

No detention. No points docked. Just a direct order from the highest authority in the school.

But it was worth it, because now they knew. Every single person in this room knew.

And as you turned on your heel, heart still pounding with the remnants of power buzzing in your veins—

You caught Sebastian’s eyes one last time.

Still watching, still frozen in place, yet looking at you like you were the most devastating, impossible, extraordinary thing he had ever seen.

And then? The slightest smirk. The most faint, devastatingly admiring grin.

Like he had never, ever wanted anyone more.

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cl-01-kestis · 5 months ago

Text

Blood and Honey - Tom Riddle x Female Reader | Part 2

Summary: After a week of avoidance and contemplation, you finally come face to face with Tom during Slughorn’s Christmas party. Tension runs high, you swear you hate him, but he’s too addictive to resist.

Warnings: heavy romantic tones, enemies to lovers, cat calling, premarital sex, alcohol, fingering, oral (f!receiving), PiV, Tom is not effected by Amortentia in this AU (everyone is over 18)

BOOMSHAKALAKA

Part 1

If your mother happened to know that you’d done in the medical ward the week prior, she would have a stroke, or at least a heart attack. If there’s one thing your muggle parents always taught you never to do, it was premarital physical relations. It was the 1940’s, sex after marriage was the done thing, but it was a bit different in the wizarding world.

Some students at Hogwarts engaged in thrilling affairs in the school bathrooms or their common rooms when no one else was around, but you never considered it until your endeavours with Tom in the infirmary.

You were thinking about him all week, every day, every hour. You avoided corridors he walked through just so he wouldn’t see you. You’d been avoiding class, studying in your dorm and in hidden corners of the library. One of your friends was a prefect for Ravenclaw, so sometimes you crashed her classes and used the prefect common room as well.

Tom noticed all this from afar.

Your avoidance from him made him curious, but inside he was amused. He found your denial of the situation rather interesting, wondering if you still felt any resentment towards him after what happened. To him, he expected you to pull back. He done things to you no man has ever done, you didn’t know how else to react.

You once sat in class together since it happened, both at other sides of the classroom, but the tension was thick and you felt a hot buzz between your thighs the entire lesson. It was hard concentrating on the subject the professor was teaching when you felt Toms eyes on you the entire time. Safe to say you were the first one who left when class ended.

Today, you had to attend charms class after being warned by one of your professors, knowing your attendance would drop if you continued missing out. So begrudgingly, you took your seat as the first student in class and waited nervously for the others to flood in.

You were sitting at the back of class in your usual seat, scribbling down the topic for today and preparing yourself for the lesson when you noticed him walk in.

Tom was laughing with one of his friends, Avery, who always seemed to get on your nerves. The black haired Slytherin didn’t even notice you at the back of class as he took his seat at the front, making room for Avery as the two opened their satchels and took out their jotters.

You looked away from him quickly, already feeling nauseous as you chewed the tip of your pencil. Others came in a short while afterwards and all took their seats, ready for the lesson.

Your professor started the lecture off by asking the class questions to check their knowledge about advanced charms, he bounced about the class until he eventually asked you a question about the Homorphus charm. You answered confidently, but the sound of your voice rattled Tom’s brain out of boredom. He turned his head, eyes wide with surprise as they settled on your figure at the back of the classroom. Your eyes connected for a brief second, but a sharp jolt of electricity flowed through your veins when you saw the way he looked at you.

Tom turned back around in his seat and suppressed a smile, not a smirk, but a relieved smile. He was glad you were back in class, he didn’t want to be the reason you stopped attending and cause a bad grade.

But Tom noticed the heavy blush adorning your cheeks, the dark hue giving away your embarrassment. He turned his attention back to the professor, hiding an amused smirk.

You scurried out of class clutching your jotters and textbooks, red in the face as you targeted the library for some privacy. The air thickened with uneasy tension after Tom noticed your attendance, you felt sweat on your back and in your palms just at the thought. You pulled open the library doors, making sure it shut behind you before you continued forward.

You walked into a random isle and leaned against the books, exhaling loudly but thankfully no one was around to hush you. You were so on edge, but you weren’t entirely sure if it was a good or bad thing. On one hand, you had to face Tom again at some point after what happened, but on the other hand it was absolutely terrifying. Your body trembled and behind your eyes flashed the memories of what he did to you.

You looked down at your legs, closing your eyes as you remembered his tongue against your wounded thigh, the way his eyes darkened as his tongue caught your blood. Your grip tightened on your textbooks as you recalled his lips against your most intimate areas, his teeth constantly nipping at you as if he was memorising your taste.

A frustrated sigh left your chapped lips as you pulled up a chair at a free study desk just by the window, opening up a random book and forcing yourself to read the contents. Yet nothing could stop your thoughts pushing their way to your attention, you could practically feel his hot breath on you as you covered your face with your hands.

The memory of him stained your soul, the way he made you feel so vulnerable and defenceless against the hospital bed. He had you in his grip in those moments, making you come undone with just his tongue and fingers, it hurt your ego.

You’d admittedly touched yourself countless times after, trying to match the same orgasms he gave you, but nothing ever worked. The only thing that gave you a brief release was your pillow, but even that was rare due to the other girls in your dorm.

Someone abruptly broke you out of your endless trance, your own friend Samantha, who shared potions class with you. She sat down loudly beside you, startling some other students in the process, and placed her hand on your wrist.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you” She chuckled, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she looked at you excitedly. You cleared your throat and smiled, turning so you could face her.

“What for?” You asked politely, hoping you didn’t look too suspicious before she arrived.

Samantha closed your textbook and grabbed both of your hands, green eyes glistening in the candlelight above your desk.

“Well, for starters, Slughorns been trying to reach you all week but couldn’t find you at all,” The Slytherin student smirked, noticing your eyebrow raise in question.

“He wants you to attend tomorrow’s Slug club party” Her words caused you to groan, purposefully banging your head against the desk as you realised the party was this close. You knew it was happening before the Christmas holidays, it was Slughorns way of welcoming the students back for another term, you even attended the one last year.

“Merlin’s beard, I didn’t realise it was that close” You leaned back in your seat with defeat, looking at Samantha when she giggled at your reaction.

“I’ve been invited as well so you can borrow one of my dresses if you’re short of things to wear” She offered kindly, but you weren’t even sure if she was the same size as you. She saw the hesitance in your eyes and smiled.

“You can come to my dorm before the party, we can get ready together” She squeezed your hands for reassurance. You couldn’t help but nod, not wanting to disappoint her.

Samantha clapped her hands together, happy with your answer. She knew you a lot better than many people at Hogwarts, she’d been your friend for over a year now and without her you’d stay in your shell. But with her support, you could probably survive Slughorns party tomorrow night.

But as you packed your things and left for your dorm, you stopped dead in your tracks when you realised who was also going to Slughorns party. You felt like one of the castle ghosts face palmed you, you felt so stupid.

Tom was going to Slughorns party too. He went to every one, but never under these circumstances. Everytime you both went previously, the night had been full of snarky comments and comments that could’ve been regarded as bullying. But now, oh, why now.

You walked back to your dorm with your tail between your legs, dreading tomorrow.

The next day came too fast, and so did the moons sudden appearance outside Samantha’s dorm window, reminding you of the time. Slughorns party started at 7 o’clock, it was currently 6:15. Since Samantha’s dorm was so close to Slughorns quarters, it would only be a minutes walk.

You were sitting on the floor cross legged beside Samantha, applying makeup next to the small vanity just beside her bed. The mirror was wide enough for the two of you, knees touching and elbows occasionally bumping. You looked on theme, eyes dark with black liner and lips tinted with rose powder. The party was always darkly lit and attendees would always wear black or dark coloured clothing.

Samantha curled your hair and assisted with your outfit. You opted to wear something comfortable, knowing you wouldn’t spend long at the party. You ended up wearing a knee length dress with short sleeves and a square neckline. It was a perfect balance of casual and endearing.

Slipping on your shoes, you followed Samantha out of the girls dormitory and down the stairs into the common room, arm in arm. A few students lounged on the couches, mostly male, and whistled at the two of you as you left the staircase. Samantha didn’t shy away from the attention and blew a kiss at them, but you just smiled and waved, not sure how to react at the sudden attention. The boys continued howling and calling after you, but Samantha quickly dragged the two of you out into the hallway.

The two of you looked at each other and shared a moment of laughter, trying not to be too loud in case they heard.

As you expected, it didn’t take long at all to arrive at Slughorns party. You were the one to knock on the beautifully carved door, hands clutching at the shrug Samantha lent you.

You spoke with Samantha about something not too important before the door was opened, but your blood immediately ran cold as you locked eyes with the person who answered, dark eyes staring right back at you.

Tom’s face contorted into surprise when he saw it was you, realising this was the closest you’d been since last week. The noise inside the party muffled as his lips parted, as if he was going to say something to you.

“Evening Tom” Samantha greeted coldly, breaking the silence as she glared at him with a fake smile. Tom blinked at her, quickly rolling his eyes and opening the door further so you could both walk in. Samantha went first, then you went second.

You walked past Tom and felt your body shudder as you felt his eyes on you, quickly catching up with Samantha who walked straight towards Slughorn. The professor beamed when his eyes landed on the two of you, arms spread before clapping his hands together.

“How wonderful to see you both!” He shook your hands, but his attention was directed specifically towards you.

“I’m glad you’ve recovered from your brief sickness, I hope to see you in my class tomorrow Miss (S/N)” Slughorn teased, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks. You chuckled, playing along with his antics to avoid any awkwardness.

“Of course, professor” You offered your best smile, relieved when he moved onto Samantha who had a few questions for him about an upcoming assignment.

You walked over to Slughorns extravagant fireplace, standing by it to receive some kind of warmth. You rubbed your hands together, holding them nearby the cackling flames which offered comfort.

Someone behind you quietly cleared their throat, but you didn’t need to turn around to know exactly who it was.

You suppressed a nervous smile, holding your shawl in your arms as you looked over your shoulder. Tom was already looking straight at you when your eyes locked, his face adorning an undeniably handsome smile. You slowly turned your body around so you were facing him, you briefly allowed yourself to study his appearance, knowing he wouldn’t mind.

Tom cleaned up nicely, wearing black dress trousers and a white button up. He ditched his dinner jacket, his sleeves rolled up halfway and the top button at his collar undone. He wore a waistcoat which only made him look even more delectable. You could barely keep your eyes off him, no one could pay you to look away.

“It’s nice to see you” Tom broke the tension, taking a step forward so he was close enough to touch you. You didn’t move back, looking up as he inspected your face intricately. His eyes trailed down to your lips, noticing the tinge of rose coating them. Tom saw the reluctance in your expression, the fear of questioning what happened in the medical ward a week prior. You weren’t an often vulnerable person, nor were you shy, but in this moment you felt like the world would crumble if you uttered a single word to him.

“Are you feeling alright?” Tom asked, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets even though he wanted to brush the loose strand of hair from your forehead. You cleared your throat, looking down at your feet before replying.

“I’ve been fine, my leg healed up nicely” You didn’t mean to sound coy, but you shared a playful smile with Tom as he raised a brow, your minds going to the exact same, dirty place.

“I’m glad to hear, i can see the mark I made didn’t last long either” Tom whispered cruelly, his hand raising to brush just under your jaw, right where he made his mark on you in the infirmary. You shivered at his touch, sucking in a sharp breath as he tucked his hand back into his trouser pocket.

“I had to use some spells to make it heal faster, didn’t want anyone seeing it” You mumbled, aware of the other eyes in the room as other students started filling in. Tom couldn’t stop the smirk that parted his lips, shrugging his shoulders in a gesture of passive agreement, even though he secretly wanted everyone to know.

“I can’t argue that, maybe I should leave more next time-“

“Tom” You hissed, earning a sharp chuckle from him.

“I’m only joking, I’ll be a gentleman for the evening” The Slytherin prefect offered you his arm with a charming grin, dark eyes enticing you closer. You rolled your eyes and put on your best fake glare, keeping up the act you once had before everything happened.

Samantha was indulging in flirtatious conversation with a year 7 Gryffindor, her eye catching the shocking sight of you and Tom Riddle getting along. She almost let her glass slip from her hand, mouth hanging open as she trailed off her sentence.

It was a strange sight, and you did feel rather strange. You felt like you were betraying the person you were before the infirmary incident; the same person who wouldn’t have touched Riddle even if he was the last thing on earth.

But now the dynamic took a scandalous turn. The person you hated most, more than anyone in the entire world, reduced you to pleasured tears against a hospital bed. Knowing that alone made this moment much more intense, and Tom could sense your emotions just by the squeeze you gave his arm as you strolled around the room.

Slughorn’s eyes lit up when the two of you approached him, his expression twisting into subtle shock when he realised you two were arm in arm. The Professor was aware of the long term rivalry between the two of you, so your sudden closeness came as a surprise to him.

“If it isn’t my best students” Slughorn greeted with a large smile on his face.

“Evening Professor, great party as always” Tom bluffed, earning a wink from the Professor who pat him on the shoulder.

“You flatter me, Tom,” Slughorn scoffed lightheartedly.

“I hope you’re feeling better after that fall you had, Miss (Y/N), I was informed by the healers of your nasty injury” The old man had no clue of the thoughts running through you and Tom’s head the moment he brought up your injury. You had a sudden urge to shove Tom, knowing exactly what he was thinking as he stifled a wicked smirk.

“Thank you, Professor, I’m feeling much better” You assured him with a kind smile, enough to appease Slughorn’s concern.

“I’m glad to hear it young lady, I’m also glad to see the two of you getting along so well” The Professor had a knowing look in his eye, an almost teasing smile growing on his face as you felt yourself blush.

“You could say we’ve put aside our differences” Tom answered, a somewhat ominous tone to his voice. But nevertheless, Slughorn never questioned his favourite student regardless of the suspicion.

“Well, I’m glad! Maybe I should start pairing the two of you together during class” The Professor teased, but a part of you felt inclined to believe he was serious.

Looking at it from Slughorn’s perspective, partnering you and Tom together would make literal and figurative magic. You were both the top students in potions class, but together? You weren’t sure what lengths you could reach.

“I wouldn’t complain, Professor, Miss (S/N) would make an excellent partner” Tom smirked, noticing your fingers slightly tighten against his arm.

“Thank you, Tom” I smile, glancing at Slughorn who raised a playful brow at Tom’s flirty demeanour. Nevertheless, Slughorn kept the idea lingering in his head as he moved onto another student, leaving you and Tom to your own devices once more.

“I think we’d end up killing each other if we were partnered together” You whispered with a quiet chuckle.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right” Tom raised a hand to gently brush a loose strand away from your forehead, a strangely sweet and intimate gesture no one had ever done for you before.

“Your friend- what was her name… Samantha,” Tom sighed.

“She hasn’t stopped glaring at me for the past five minutes, I assume she carries a certain distaste for me?” Tom asked you in a sultry tone, his beady eyes glancing down at you.

“Most likely, she’s probably just confused” You brush off his concerns about Samantha, knowing you would face her wrath the next day.

Just as he was about to reply, Slughorn announced the meal would be starting, beckoning all the students closer to the dining table which was set with delicious food.

You separated from Tom and sat beside Samantha, who blatantly stared you down as you settled into the antique armchair. Her blue eyes felt icy on your face as you turned to meet her gaze, realising she was silently inquiring about Tom.

“Since when did you and Mister Dark and Broody get along?” She muttered under her breath as she took a sip of champagne on the table. You bit your tongue for a few seconds, about to answer when Slughorn pinged his knife against his wine glass, preparing all of us for a speech. Everyone’s mumbling turns into silence as all eyes settle on the potions teacher.

“Thank you all for coming to our Christmas Slug Club party, I’m delighted you all could make it,” Slughorn starts with a dashing smile, his cheeks slightly rosy from all the red wine he consumed.

“Tonight we celebrate the greatness that has come from each and every student sitting at this table. You have all exceeded magnificently in your studies, I am honoured to know such charming students” Slughorn stated with a positively delightful tone. You couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed on your own face, knowing he truly meant it towards every person at the table. Everyone toasted and cheered to his speech, clinking glasses together and mumbling praise before dinner began.

The plates magically blossomed with food, your eyes lit up at the ensemble of delicious combinations and condiments. You didn’t waste a moment, picking at the food politely with your work before taking a sip of wine. Samantha cleared her throat beside you, her eyes already looking at you.

“Continuing our conversation; Mister Slytherin Prefect has a soft spot for you now. When on earth did that happen?” The Gryffindor mumbled as other students dispersed in their own conversations. You sighed, knowing this conversation was inevitable.

“One day, we decided to put aside our immaturity and focus on better things. There’s no other reason” You answer, trying your absolute best to avoid any further suspicion. The last thing you wanted Samantha knowing was the truth.

Samantha gave you a sarcastic glare, knowing you were lying to her. But she didn’t pry, instead she dug into her own food and mumbled something to herself, her knife digging into her steak a little too harshly.

As your eyes searched around the table, you immediately looked back down at your plate once you noticed Tom already looking at you. Your neck rose with heat, your ears turned red, it felt so provocative for such a simple gesture. You took a gamble of bravery and looked up once again, this time meeting Tom’s gaze and not looking away.

His gaze was all consuming, his eyes were almost black, peering into the very depths of your soul with just a simple glance. Tom’s presence at the table was bold, he had his friends sitting at either side of him with smug expressions as they looked across the table at other students. But Tom wasn’t interested in anyone else, he didn’t even look at his friends if they spoke to him. He offered the most subtle glance, but it had your heart racing. You could feel your corset become rather suffocating, your chest gently rose every time you inhaled, accentuating your cleavage in the dress you were wearing. Tom didn’t miss that detail. He also didn’t miss the timid posture you expressed after your eyes met.

Dinner had come to an end, you managed to eat most of it but your mind was too occupied with Tom, you ended up skipping desert.

Students moved to the large space in Slughorn’s quarters to dance, a floating quartet playing classical in the corner. Samantha walked over to the dance floor with the 7th year Gryffindor she was flirting with before dinner, you smiled and watched as she made her move. You were standing alone, sipping some champagne, when someone stood beside you. You bit your tongue to stop yourself from smiling, nerves swirling in your belly as you looked up to meet Tom’s eyes. He had his hands in his trouser pockets, casually spectating the fairly busy dance floor before looking down at you.

“Would it be completely terrible to ask you for a dance?” He asked with a smirk, his aura radiating confidence and calculation.

“I think I would rather be set on fire by a Chinese Fireball” You scoff, maintaining a sharp wit like you once had before the infirmary incident. Tom laughed louder than you expected, shaking his head softly as he looked at the dance floor.

“You’d probably end up standing on my shoes, you’d be a terrible partner” He berated playfully.

“I’d purposefully stand on your shoes, I’d also dance in the wrong direction and make a fool of myself” You chuckle, taking another sip of your champagne. Tom bit back a smirk, flashing you another glance before clearing his throat.

“As long as you don’t fall over and hurt yourself again” Tom mumbled, causing your heart to skip as you swallowed your wine. You knew he was referencing last week; your fall and the wound on your leg. You bit your tongue to stop yourself from making a provocative comment.

“I’m sure you’d like that” You say, keeping your gaze focused on the dancing couples to save some sanity.

“If that means I get to see you sprawled out and whining my name again, then yes” Tom replied nonchalantly, but it almost caused you to choke on your champagne as you sipped on it. Your face burned, your body tingled with goosebumps at the memory. You shake your head, smiling as you turn to look at him.

“I didn’t realise you wanted that to happen again” You reply as casually as possible, but inside your heart was imploding with nerves.

“You thought that was only a one time thing? I’m almost insulted you think I’m that shallow” Tom smirked arrogantly, looking back out at the dance floor as people socialised. You weren’t sure what to say at first, feeling your stomach twist with undeniable desire. Last week, he didn’t even make you touch him. You didn’t even get the chance to unbutton his shirt or unzip his trousers. He placed every ounce of his focus on you, you shivered when you realised it might happen again.

“I didn’t mean to sound ignorant,” You mutter, your tone suddenly much more timid as you clear your throat.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised” You hum, still very unsure how to word your emotions and the attraction you felt towards him. Tom only grinned, chuckling to himself as he watched you struggle to muster the right words.

“You avoided me all week, do I make you that nervous?” Tom suddenly asks, making you blush shamefully.

“You do, but surely you can’t blame me. No one’s ever made me feel the way you have, somehow I resent you for it” I whisper, earning an even wider grin from the Slytherin prefect.

“Resent? Somehow that makes me desire you even more. Tell me, what was the part that made you resent me?” Tom smirked boastfully, turning to face you as you tried to avoid his gaze.

“Its just-… I just feel like it’s so unfair that the person I grew up hating is the one who made me feel so good, I’m not supposed to feel this way towards you” You say, feeling your self composure slip away as you unveil more of your emotions to Tom. He takes a step closer, his eyes burning into yours.

“So that’s it? You’re too full of your own ego, you don’t want to accept that I was the one who had you crying from pleasure, that it was me who effortlessly picked you apart until you were nothing but a shaking mess” Tom’s voice lowered as he spoke, truly testing your composure as you tried to act as normal as possible to anyone outside of the conversation. You could feel your panties pool with arousal just from his words, you could feel the delicious burning twist in your lower belly as you imagined him taking you once again. He knew you were thinking of it.

“You’re insufferable” You whisper, your hands gently shaking as you take a sip of wine.

“I’m honest, darling” Tom replies, tilting your chin up to look into his eyes. You felt like jelly, one move and you’d melt on the floor.

“Meet me in the room of requirement tonight at twelve if you want this to continue, but if not I won’t speak of it ever again” Tom says softly before letting go of your chin and reluctantly pulling away. You wanted to reach out to him, to drag him away and fulfil your shared desires. But now wasn’t appropriate.

You let out a deep breath, your heart racing as you registered what just happened. You already knew your decision, you weren’t going to let Samantha or anyone else stop you.

Speaking of which, Samantha had walked off with the Gryffindor boy, no doubt sneaking off into the girls bathrooms or the potions cupboard. So, you picked up your bag and shawl and left the party without another word. You couldn’t stay there any longer, but you checked the clock and realised it was already 11:35. Your stomach sank, you had to mentally prepare yourself for what was going to happen tonight. No one was looking for you, you’d deal with Samantha in the morning, but Tom was expecting you.

You started walking along the halls of Hogwarts, your heels clicking against the stone flooring. You walked up flights of stairs and passed by common rooms to reach the room of requirement. It was deadly quiet, not a soul roamed the halls apart from ghosts, so you had to be careful.

You came across the room of requirement door, only to find Tom hadn’t arrived yet. You wondered if you should go inside, but how would he know you were there? Shuffling in your spot, you glance at the corridors either side of you, your hands tingling with pins and needles as you try to control your breathing.

You were making the right choice, right? Was there a wrong choice to this situation? Tom made it clear nothing would happen again if you didn’t meet him here, he wouldn’t ever speak of it again. Was that the wrong choice? It felt like it. You felt as though denying your one true desire would be wrong, people are meant to feel like this about someone, eventually.

But Tom wasn’t your suitor. He wasn’t a prospecive partner or a man your parents picked out to court. He didn’t treat you like a lady, he trampled over your victories and spitefully teased you over the past 6 years. What was so tempting about a man like that?

Nothing, really. But what occurred a week prior sent every part of your hatred down the drain towards him. Tom never had a partner, he never showed interest in girls or even boys, he spent his time nestled in books and parchments, huddled away from the world in his own little bubble. So, why did he choose you to torment so wickedly with his tongue and fingers, why were you the only one who experienced his selfless nature? He never even let you touch him, but he touched you like he was obsessed.

“You came” Soft words knocked you completely out of your trance, causing you to jump softly and turn around to meet Tom’s face. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest, your hands trembled as you adjusted your grip on your clutch bag.

Tom stood a few meters away from you with his hands in his pockets, a serious expression on his face as the bricks on the wall started moving beside you, unveiling a door which led into the room of requirement.

You looked at Tom, clearing your throat.

“I won’t avoid you anymore,” You say, feeling your throat go dry as he took a step closer. But eventually, the words started bubbling up in your chest, your lips parting as you take a deep breath.

“I-… I can’t escape this feeling, I don’t- shit, I don’t know what you’ve done to me” You stammer, piecing together your emotions as Tom continued walking closer.

“I’ve tried ignoring it, I’ve tried ignoring you, but I can’t stand this tension any longer, Tom” You sigh, your voice becoming more shaky as you realised the proximity between you.

“I need to know if you feel the same, say something please-“ You whisper pitifully, but your words get cut off when you feel Tom cup your face, his other hand sliding around your waist as he leans down to kiss you.

It’s not your average kiss, it’s not the type of kiss you see walking down the street or imagine in a romantic novel. This is a kiss that leaves you frozen, it’s so pleasurably relieving, even as your body melts in his arms as you close your eyes and let your lips mold together. His kiss is hungry, it’s powerful, it’s shockingly debaucherous, but there’s a tender essence as he holds you close and tightens his grip on your lower back.

You wrap your arms around his neck, he gently pressed you against the cobblestone wall next to the room of requirement door as his hands moved to your waist.

This was too much. Surely you were dead. No amount of ecstasy or adrenaline like this could be experienced in a mortal life. Maybe you were dreaming.

“I want to be absolutely certain,” Tom whispered as he trailed his lips down your jaw, his kisses casting a burning path on your skin as he breathed against your pulse point.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks, pressing one gentle kiss to your collarbone before pulling back, his black eyes looking into yours deeply. For a few seconds, you forget to reply. Your eyes are half lidded, your breaths are shallow and laboured, did he place some kind of spell on you?

“I’ve never been so sure” You say shamelessly, your hands wandering to his tie and tugging on it, pulling him towards you so your lips were brushing together. You were almost certain you noticed a blush on Tom’s pale cheeks, his lips pulling into a boyish smile before he kissed you gently and took your hand, leading you into the room of requirement.

The heavy door whined loudly as Tom pushed it open, leading you inside before closing it over and turning to face the room. You expected the standard hall full of discarded magical items that had been gathered over the centuries. What you didn’t expect was an entirely new room. It was much smaller, the walls were cobblestone, the low cackling of fire echoed around the room.

Your heart nearly sunk to your feet the moment your eyes landed on… a bed. It was plush, something neither of you could ever afford. It’s frame was rich oak wood with a varnish finish, the mattress was large, could hold at least three. Beside the bed was a cosy fireplace, it’s amber light casting a gentle glow on the room. You were in such shock, you didn’t notice the heavy breath that left your lips as you took a few steps forward.

So this is what the two of you required. Something from your deepest desires, something neither of you could acquire. Neither you or Tom came from aristocracy, you weren’t used to lush beds or warm fireplaces, this was something the two of you desired. The room appeared to know exactly what you needed in this moment, at least that’s what it’s purpose was.

His hands slipped around your waist, his chest pressing against your back as his lips grazed the shell of your ear. Suddenly your dress felt suffocating.

“Do you still resent me?” He cooed, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your waist as he looked down at the bed from over your shoulder. You bit your tongue, your hands clammy and your heart hammering wildly against your chest as you softly leaned against him.

“What happens if I say yes?” You whisper, feeling him grin against your skin as his hands move up to the collar of your dress just behind your neck. His nimble fingers begin to undo the buttons down your back, wasting no time as he slid his hands under the fabric and started to untie the laces to your corset.

“I’ll give you a reason to resent me even more” Tom murmured against your neck, his hands teasingly tightening the laces of your corset, causing you to gasp quietly.

“I’m sure that’s not hard” You scoff.

You knew in that moment you should’ve held your tongue, because seconds later you were shoved against the cobblestone brick wall beside the door, Tom’s arms caging you in with no escape.

“So defensive, I’ve always liked that about you” Tom smirked, his hands dragging down the sleeves of your dress until the entire garment pooled around your ankles. You went to hide, but Tom pressed his body against yours and kissed you fiercely, his hands stroking the sides of your corset as you gripped onto his shoulders.

“Oh yeah? What else do you like about me?” You ask sarcastically, terribly out of breath and as bashful as a young schoolgirl. Your words sounded unsure, insecure almost. Tom could practically taste the nerves running through your system.

“Enough talking” He glares, clearly his patience was running thin. You knew he didn’t mean anything serious by his stern tone, it was negotiated from the start this would happen. Maybe he was just as desperate as you were.

You helped Tom remove his shirt, peeling it over his head and throwing it on the floor, discarded and ignored. His lips were on you once more, his hands fumbling with the laces of your corset as he slid his knee between your legs.

“So soft,” He whispers against your skin, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you forward on his thigh, his thumb skimming over the wound on your leg from the week prior. His eyes flashed with something primal for a second, as if he reminisced the taste of iron on his tongue from your bloody hands.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Tom asks quietly as his tongue licks over your pulse, his hands finally untangling the threads to your corset and setting your lungs free from construction. You breathed out with relief, but suddenly you felt so exposed.

“No, Merlin no, you’re doing quite the opposite” You smile bashfully, trying to hide your nerves as you placed your hands on his bare chest. You could feel his heartbeat, it was racing just as much as yours. He was nervous too, if not more, but he was excellent at hiding it.

“Then, I assume you wouldn’t mind me taking this to the bed?” Tom leaned back, looking into your eyes with a boyish glimmer you’d never seen before. No one had seen Tom so gentle, so infuriatingly playful, but you had the privilege of experiencing all of it.

“I’m surprised we’re not there yet” You reply, trying to stifle a smirk as Tom leans into kiss you once again. As your lips press together, he guides you to the bed, kindly offered by the room of requirement, and you feel the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress.

You’re wearing nothing but a pair of sheer stockings and undergarments. Your corset has been completely removed, your torso was exposed entirely to his yearning gaze.

He pushes you onto the bed, his body hovering above yours as he moves his hand down to unbuckle his belt. He’s tantalisingly slow, unfair and cruel. You have every right to bite a sharp comment in his direction for teasing you this way, but you can’t find it in you to have an attitude in this moment.

“You’re awfully quiet, what’s happened to that girl with the wicked tongue moments ago?” Tom poked, mouthing along your collarbone as you tried not to squirm beneath him.

“You don’t enjoy my silence?” You scoff, knowing a part of Tom would’ve liked the control he had over you.

“Not really, I find myself missing your brutal comments and shameless taunts… perhaps I’ve truly broken you” Tom chuckled darkly, wrapping his lips around one of your taut nipples as you glare down at him.

“You wish,” You scoff, albeit squirming a little from the sweet pleasure provided by Tom’s lips. Tom smirked against you, playfully biting the sensitive bud.

“Yet I have you right where I want you, I could break you if I wanted” He whispered, hands finally unbuckling his belt and sliding it off in one deft movement. You kept your eyes on his, rather nervous for what’s to come, but he reassured your racing thoughts by kissing back up your heated skin, breathing against your neck in such a provocative way.

“Tell me what you want” He cooed, biting down on your neck and beginning to suck a love bite onto your skin. You suck in a sharp breath, looking at the ceiling.

“I want you to do what you did last time” You say quietly, the blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Hmm, what was that? I did a few things last time” Tom replied, pressing your hips together and grinding his crotch against yours.

“That thing with your mouth, you smug bastard” You hiss with annoyance but undeniable arousal, your legs softly shaking from the anticipation.

“That’s not very nice, is it?” Tom taunted cunningly, his body leaning back from yours as he sat back on his knees, looking down at your exposed body.

“I could just say no, give you my cock now and shut you up real good” Tom purred, his clothed erection pressing tight against your pussy. You frown, eyes a little wide from such an obscene comment, but you couldn’t deny the rush you felt from his words. Your silence made him grin, his hand moving down your stomach and eventually against the material of your panties. He caressed you softly there, just under your clit where he felt a damp spot on the lacy garment, a wicked look in his eye.

You fell completely silent, quite overcome with timidness as you shy away from his eyes, looking away and pressing your knuckles softly against your lips.

“Maybe I will give you what you want after all…” Tom whispered, a heady tone in his dark voice. His mouth latched onto your supple skin once more, tongue flicking out to taste the warmth and subtle musk of your natural scent.

He trailed a path of kisses down to your lower stomach, pressing his cheek against your thigh and smiling up at you as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulders.

“Oh I’ve missed this…” Tom groaned, his eyes flickering down to the wet patch on your panties.

You practically melt, stomach fluttering and legs shaking, when Tom suddenly kisses your clit through the material of your panties. You try to close your legs but he’s got them firmly held open, a grunt escaping his lips.

His tongue poked against the fabric, wetting it more with his saliva as he tasted the faint, familiar taste of your slick. He smirked, burying his nose into the fabric and softly inhaling the scent, his own hips bucking in response.

You can do nothing but lie there and take it, your body trembling and your eyes glazed over with intense arousal as you grip tightly onto the sheets.

“Tom, please-“

“Shh… none of that now, darling” Tom cooed, his voice muffled against the fabric of your panties as he grasped your legs and pulled you closer, your legs over his shoulders.

You whine breathlessly, chest heaving softly as you feel your legs tremor slightly, hips gently jutting in response to his obscene display of arousal. But to a certain extent, you couldn’t deny Tom’s desperation, he’d been denied this for long enough, and Tom was never denied. He’ll have you, one way or another.

He hooked his fingers around the hem of your panties and pulled them clean off, throwing them to the side. Now, you were only clad in your stockings, cunt exposed to his predatory gaze. You felt so small.

You utter another soft gasp as he kisses the insides of your thighs, his breath hot. Then, as if the string of tension finally snapped, Tom pressed a soft kiss to your clit and practically groaned. His tongue followed shortly after, tasting the wetness of your arousal that had his mind spinning in seconds.

Tom let go of all inhibitions and let loose his control, lapping and sucking at your cunt as if it was his life source. You struggle to breathe properly, heart racing as your eyes roll back, sounds of ecstasy slipping through your swollen lips.

Suddenly the room feels like it’s spinning, you lace your fingers through his black curls and tug helplessly, earning a deep grunt from him as he moved his fingers from your thigh to your slick entrance.

He picks you apart so quickly it’s unfair, you gasp for breath and feel your sight get blurry when he slides his fingers into you and curls against that gorgeously sensitive spot inside you, the one that has your toes curling. Your moans and whines echo around the room, pure music to Tom’s ears as he starts pumping his fingers inside you, coating them with your wetness. He’s eager to make you cum, but a cruel part of him wants to keep you on edge. Until he can give you his cock and make you feel even better.

“Tom…!” You mewl, hips gently jutting against his mouth, sweet pleasure tearing through your body.

“That’s it” He whispered in a hoarse tone, his lips and chin coated with the essence of your arousal. The look in his eyes made you shiver, a cocktail of pure hunger and craving.

Tom laces his fingers with yours and holds your hand to your lower stomach, just as his tongue curls harder against you and your legs shake badly. His flash of tenderness only makes this moment more addictive.

You pant and whine like a mutt in heat, trembling beneath him and doing your absolute best not cum early. It’s hard, Tom knows this, and he makes it his goal to make this even worse for you.

“Come on sweetheart…” He whispers against your clit, his tongue continuing its cruel assault. Your legs involuntarily shake, your breaths are raspy and uncontrollable.

Soon, that gorgeous pressure in your stomach finally snaps, causing you to cry out with ecstasy. Your gummy walls clench around his slender fingers as he curls them, coaxing every drop of release from you. Your hand fists his hair, but he doesn’t feel pain. He only feels you.

“I can’t-“ You sob, flinching away from his touch as his fingers continue moving inside you. He’s an insistent, selfish glutton.

He removes his fingers, replacing them with his tongue that laps unforgivingly at your slick cunt. You feel like you want to scream, the pressure and pleasure like nothing you’ve felt before. Somehow he’s gotten better, or perhaps worse, since the incident in the infirmary.

He hums against you before pulling away, his face flushed and his breathing slightly laboured. With struggle, you open your eyes and gaze at him with a weak stare, your hands still holding his.

“Beautiful,” he whispers softly, leaning down to kiss you with his slick stained lips. You kiss him slowly and deeply, tasting your release on his wicked tongue.

You can faintly hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, but he doesn’t break his focus at kissing you. He practically shoves you back onto the bed when you chase after his lips, unbuttoning his trousers and tugging them down as he struggled to control his rapid breathing.

“Maddening woman,” He grunts with lustful frustration, eyes dark with desire and want.

“You’ve plagued my every thought for the past week, heard your sweet sounds in my dreams” He huffs, his lips and teeth latching onto your jugular as he pushed your legs apart. You trembled, stuttering over unspoken words as his short nails dug into the meat of your thighs, sure to leave bruising.

“Last chance to say no” he pants, looking into your eyes with sincerity.

“Merlin Tom, get your bloody trousers off” you hiss, fire in your eyes as you looked up to meet his heady gaze.

“Impatient,” he tutted, but did as you asked in the same breath. He pulled his trousers down, removing his boxer briefs as well which left him bare before you. His cock exposed, adorned by a thick batch of curls.

“Spoiled,” Tom mumbles, offering a few languid pumps to his hardened cock.

“I’d call you a brat but you’d probably enjoy that” He huffs, leaning forward and pressing the tip between your slick folds. But he doesn’t push in, not yet, instead he pays some attention to your chest and litters a few bite marks and hickeys, gently grinding his cock against you, slathering himself.

“Can I…?” He groans against your collarbone, kissing it softly as he lines himself up.

“Please” You plead wantonly, fighting the urge to push your hips towards him. Your body was on fire, it only burned brighter as you felt him push forward slowly, his tip pushing past that slick barrier, sinking into the warmth of your body.

He lets out a ragged groan against your skin, his teeth pinching at the skin of your neck we he held one of your legs further up on his waist, pushing deeper until he hit base.

The two of you shuddered at the feeling, knowing there was no going back now.

“Merlin-“ you cuss silently, your first time done with the quick thrust of Tom’s hips, your thighs trembling. It didn’t hurt, not when he looked after you so, so well before. You only wanted more.

“Take me, please” you whisper with a concept of modesty, although you physically had none left in this space of ecstasy.

He pushed his hips against yours in a sinfully lazy rhythm, just enough movement for you to go hazy eyed and mushy on the inside. You squeaked and grunted but you both knew it wasn’t enough. He knew it wasn’t enough, but he knew it was necessary for what’s to come.

Tom let out a low rumble, a noise that could pass as a moan, as he closed his eyes and his brow gently furrowed, feeling your warmth around him. The single most addictive and comforting thing he’s felt.

He kissed you, soft and sweet, his breaths growing shallow as his hips gently picked up the pace. Your legs shuddered by his hips, toes curled, lips desperately trying to keep up with his.

“Tom,” you whine, almost like a pathetic plea, your forehead pressed against his.

“I know,” he grunted, pushing his hips intensely against yours, as if to see how deep he could go. He let out a strangled sigh, his black curls now disheveled as his head dropped to your neck, his teeth latching onto your skin, sucking a gentle mark as his hips started moving faster.

You gasped and threaded your fingers through his hair, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs to keep you where he needs you. Where he begs you to stay.

The room slowly plumes with sounds of gentle skin slapping and lewd sounds from the both of you, the air heady with desire and need. You cling to him like he’s all you’ve got, your head feeling airy as his hips slam into yours. You choke on your own sounds, sinking your teeth into his pale shoulder to muffle the loud cries your lungs were begging to let out.

Tom’s hand curls around your neck, pushing you away from his neck, leaning back to look you in the eyes.

“Not a chance” he huffs, hooking an arm under your leg and bringing it up to his shoulder, stretching you out to achieve an even deeper angle. You cry out softly, his hand is loose around your neck, but it doesn’t leave. He needs to see you like this, to satisfy the need he’s had for you, for weeks.

The sounds coming from between your physical union are obscene, your walls clenching around him as your body craves for release.

“Please-“ you gasp as his hand tightens on your neck, his black eyes flashing as he hears you.

“What is it, darling?” He coos, although maintaining his pace, his other hand keeping your leg firmly around his waist.

“Faster” you manage out, eyes gentle and bleary, hands shaky as you wrapped one around his wrist. His eyes sharpened, his lips curling into a smile.

“Anything for you” he whispers, wetly kissing your jaw, his hips offering a rough thrust before he slowly picked up the pace by the second.

Your nails dragged down his shoulder blades as you whimpered his name and kissed his skin hungrily, sweat on your skins, eyes glassy, heat rising, rising, and rising.

It went this way for a while, with sinful cries and whines echoing around the room of requirement. He had you right where he wanted you, but he knew you wanted the same. You were perfect, so entirely his.

You struggle to realize how much time is going by, with every movement of his hips and yours. With every heated kiss, every dig of his fingertips and nails, every bite of his teeth, he had you falling harder and harder. In love? You weren’t sure.

All you knew was that he was yours now, and you were his, and this strange connection you had… it was exhilarating.

The night swirled into a hurricane of passion, need, and relief. He didn’t care, or know, about anything other than you in that moment. All he knew was his need for you, the way his voice gasped your name as his hips stuttered, a groan ripping from his throat as he reached the peak of his ecstasy. He kissed you so fiercely you almost became light headed all over again, your arms wrapping around him. You felt the warmth of his release on your stomach, your heart racing and your legs still trembling as you pulled back and watched him with a fixated gaze.

His breathing was labored, just like yours, but he managed the most rugged smile even in a moment of pure ecstasy and content.

“Still hate me?” He smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“With all my heart” You huffed, causing him to laugh quietly, resting his head against your chest, his body slumped on yours. You twirled your fingers through his hair, his eyes lulling shut as he heard the rhythm of your rapidly beating heart.

“Good” He smiled against your skin, just as the candle in the room finally went out.

Taglist: @nika-sophie05 @aotsuki-sasaki @countryandsweetbabygirl @pretentiousprecious @snarky-mans-gf @b4b3tte @belle643 @222-luna @nishinoyastoes @sassyeducationwritingcookie @iwritetragediesandsins @jade-spellmourn @annaisabookworm @jxydennn @mslovvette @littlekohai77 @livsteaparty @justaloserxx @loveforlee444 @abeltownshipslittlebitch @gingersnaps-obsessed12 @athenalive @v0relino @st6rrrs @lillywise-the-dancing-clown @moonlightfenrir13 @endingwithsong @turnip-milk @nenenenely @sierraluebbe @folksriddle @everysage @scarletchase1989 @spac3-c0uch @hedwigprewett12 @cydonianbutterfly @skychildteyvat @walldemons @hopebaker @mwahbella @bangchans-babygirl @maddie-jayne @sydinthecity @colorfulgardenerduck @mariahossain @https-tia @tropicalkiwi26 @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @lvskaulitzbt @red-lint

+ Extended Taglist

#x reader #harry potter x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #harry potter smut #harry potter fanfiction

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cosmica-galaxy · 12 days ago

Note

Since there’s going to be an affection added to Cookie Run Kingdom and based off the leaked voicelines, you can gift the Cookies items they favor/love (and hopefully give them head pats aswell)

So could we see the Clone Cookies reaction to the The Baker giving Them gifts and head pats? If it it’s okay with you?

THERE'S GONNA BE A WHAT--I DIDN'T KNOW THAT!!

I AM GOING TO SPOIL THE FUCK OUTTA DARK CHOCO COOKIE AND GIVE HIM ALL THE GIFTS AND HEADPATS EVER!! A-Ahem! Now to move on to the question. The clones already adore their precious deity, but the moment they start getting gifts and even physical affection? The clone cookies are clamoring to get some affection of their very own! The poor Baker will have to keep in mind the cookies that crave their affection the most stealing headpats from other cloned cookies, such as Black Forest Cookie and maybe even RM cookie. Giving them gifts also starts up heaps of rivalries in between certain cookies. Both Dark Cacao and Burning Spice will want their own respective gifts and forms of affection, even though Dark Cacao would be sorta embarrassed by such requests. Burning Spice is just like "GIVE ME ALL THE GIFTS AND AFFECTION! I WILL NOT TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER!". Stronger cookies will also compete and via for favors and affection from their precious Baker entity and will push over others to do so. Some cookies, however, are reluctant to request things. Like Dark Choco cookie, as he feels that he's too "bad" to deserve such things. But the Baker treats him with much affection, love, and care that he warms up to asking for pats and affectionate actions when he feels that the Baker will grant it for him. He's like his cloned father in the ways of positive affection. Others do it for recognition as a job well done, like Licorice Cookie or Wizard Cookie. While viewing it as demeaning at first, they eventually warm up to their Baker and even invite a head-pat or so by bumping their heads gently against the light that makes up their Baker. Getting a gently and tender pat in return. Lots of other cookies also react positively when they get gifts or pats from the Baker and the Baker themselves is more than happy to meet the needs of their cookies by interacting with them and carrying their favorites around the altered kingdom. It's another method for them to interact with the world of Earthbread and the Baker is happy to finally be given a gift that enables them to shower their treasured clones with the love they rightfully deserve! Both the Baker themselves and the cloned cookies would adore that update!

#haxorus imp #hax speaks #cosmica galaxy #cosmica-galaxy #anonymous #anon asks #anon ask #self aware crk #crk x y/n #crk x you #crk tag #crk x reader #cloned cookies au #cookie run x reader

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your-nanas-house · 1 year ago

Note

Voldemort x malfoy reader where he’s in desperate need for an heir so he ‘does’ the reader over the large dining table with a lot of ‘yes my lord’

Love it, sorry if it took me so long 😭

Yes, my Lord

◇ Pairing: Lord Voldemort X Malfoy!Reader

◇ Warnings: age gap (both off age but it's a clear big age gap), smut, HEAVY DUB-CON, public sex, p in v, wet spell (dunno if it exists but I use it every time 😬), breeding kink, creampie... just Tom Riddle, the death eaters watch them

◇ Summary: The dark Lord was ready to have heirs.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. The writing is pretty shitty, 'M so sorry and it's kind of dark.

Her eyes snapped up as soon as the dark lord pronounced her name in a strange tone, she wasn't exactly following the whole monologue that the now former Tom Riddle was gifting his followers. So she was oblivious at the topic connected to her name.

As she carefully scanned the room, her father, Lucius Malfoy, spoke with a worried expression on his face “B-But… my lord, she—” he tried, shutting his mouth as soon as the red eyes of the dark wizard glared slowly at him.

“I made my choice, Lucius… do you have anything to add?” He asked in a calm voice as he leaned closer, receiving just a head shake… the blonde man too scared to defend his own daughter in front of the older wizard.

When Voldemort called her name again, moving his slender fingers to indicate her to move closer.. she got up, her body shaking softly and sweating due to the fear and panic she was feeling at the worried expressions of her family.

She inhaled loudly as soon as the cold fingers of her lord brushed the side of her neck, traveling slowly down to her hips… making a grin appear on his face as her skin reacted with goosebump.

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n… my poor little dove,” Tom cooed, moving his free hand in her hair before taking a firm grip and bending her down on the wooden table, a loud thud echoing in the room.

Every gaze was now staring at them, some were concerned, others worried and complacent… as Y/n's eyes started filling with tears, shutting tightly as the cold slender fingers lifted the skirt of her dress so that they could rest on her covered ass cheeks.

“My little dove, you know why I'm doing this, right?” Her lord cooed again, starting to knead her flesh harshly “I need a young cunt with a body that could carry strong heirs in it, hm” he continued while covering her now naked lower half with his cape, which swallowed the sinful act perfectly.

The death eaters had just a perfect view of the young witch’s face which showed clear fear and worry.

They could see Tom’s hand moving under the cape, silence except for noises of metal caused by his belt hitting the floor… sounds that made them stare more intently.

Some started to look away while others kept focusing on them, admiring how the older man leaned down to whisper in her ear something that remained between them before her front body hit the table harshly.

A loud whimper escaped her mouth as soon as she collided with the wooden surface, her hands grabbed into whatever she could reach as an uncomfortable whimper broke the silence.

A soft light of a spell appeared from under the fabric and little time after that her whole body jolted forward, her head hitting the table as well.

Given by the dark lord’s expression of pleasure and hers of pain the dark wizards knew that was happening.

His movements were clear and the noises loud, his thick long cock kept forcing her walls open, as he pulled almost completely out so that his tip was the only thing inside of her.

Soft whimpers kept leaving her pretty mouth, tears kept running down her face wetting her young skin as she took everything her idol was giving her.

“Take it” Voldemort hissed, holding her flat against the table while snapping his hips forward, his cock hitting her cervix in a painful but pleasurable way as hisses kept leaving his mouth.

The Parseltongue sent shivers down her spine, those hiss and smooth noises kept swirling in her head, making her wetter than usual and almost too submissive.

It was her first time, Tom knew it, and he was enjoying it way more than he should… his breath getting heavier and heavier as he moved faster and harder not really carrying to make her cum or her pleasure.

“Going to take my heir!” he hissed, his tongue daring out to lick the skin of her ear shell sinfully

“I’m gonna fill… you.. up” he added, speaking after each thrust, as he smirked evilly when her body started to shake due to the intense feelings.

Her mind was telling her how wrong the whole situation was while her body kept reacting positively— her voice even cracked softly due to his fast thrusts… making it get higher while she continued to repeat the same answer as a mantra.

The young woman's eyes rolled back as her lord cupped her breasts through the fabric of her dress, squeezing and kneading them roughly to continue the now pleasant assault.. now a bit sloppier since he was reaching his own peak.

Y/n was on the same path, and after a particularly hard thrust, her body spasmed and her jaw dropped open…. her walls clenched around his hard and veiny cock, allowing Tom to finally release inside of her. Thrusting his hips to get it deeper inside of her before slowly pulling out.

A soft sigh of satisfaction escaped his mouth, his slender hands moved under the cloak as well, assuring that his seed wouldn’t leave her body.

Both were still breathing heavily as the young witch took a couple of deep breaths, falling slowly down, her bare knees hitting the cold floor of her family Mansion.

“Lovely… You have such a wonderful and useful daughter, Lucius” The dark lord murmured in a mocking tone, petting softly her hair while staring deeply in her father’s eyes, who was still at the table

“Make sure she will be there next week, for the next… encounter” he ordered, taking a grip on her hair to move her head easily, so that her eyes could meet his piercing red ones “I will see you later, dove”.

His voice was smooth and tempting, a contrast to the rough actions that just happened… his caress feeling almost soft and loving even if his stare was just communicating pure possessiveness and domination.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

#tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fic #tom riddle smut #tom riddle #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #lord voldemort #voldemort x reader #voldemort x you #voldemort fanfic #lucius malfoy

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bunny-1111 · 11 months ago

Text

Masterlist - requests are open.

updated daily

Harry potter:

Theodore Nott:

Post game destress (fluff + angst) 1.2k words Theo is angry about his team losing the game, and accidentally takes it out on his girlfriend.

Amortentia (fluff) 700 words Amortentia has its perks

Moving on is not for the weak (fluff + angst) 1.2k words Theo and reader breakup, and when Theo sees reader on a date and regrets everything

Migraines and get better kisses (fluff) 800 words Through an intense Quidditch match, Theo gets hurt and you comfort him

Dark Marks and Forbidden Hearts (original short) (fluff) 1.7k words Theo x Slytherin reader pairing during the uprising of the second wizarding war, you, your boyfriend and your friendship group are forced to become death eaters and follow in the legacy of your parents. You are faced with a challenge that you never would’ve imagined.

Whats become of us? (fluff + angst) 2k words the ups & downs of Teddy and your relationship, a party almost causes its end

Upon closer inspection (fluff) a deep dive into the magical Theodore Nott

Dry your tears (angst + fluff) (sad ish) 700 words Theodore and reader drift apart leading to an emotional breakup

Doctor Nott (fluff) Theodore takes care of sick reader

Forever is ours (fluff) Pressures of the war cause you to lash out; your boyfriend Theo is right there to remind you what you’re fighting for

Mission Impossible (fluff) 1k words Theodore attempts to ask you on a date until you finally give in

Beg for it (angst+fluff) 1.5k words Before break, you had trouble with Theodore. On the train ride back to Hogwarts, he reminds you of the consequences of your actions. Beg for it Part 2 0.9k Returning to Hogwarts after ignoring Theodore all summer long was so much worse than you imagine; Theodore was starving you of what you so desperately needed.

Mr fix it (fluff) 1.65k words. Theodore is protective over his wife and daughter as they accidentally take a fall into the lake under his supervision.

Blow out your candles (fluff+angst) 1.1k words You hate your birthday, your boyfriend Theodore tries to make it the best day for you, but only makes it worse, until...

Falling behind (fluff) 0.8k words Based on the lyrics of "Falling Behind" by Laufey, where the reader feels like everyone's in a relationship. Too blind to notice that Theodore's been waiting for her all along.

Theo wants to marry you (fluff)

Slytherin party, theos gf edition

One Step Ahead (angst, enemies to lovers) 1.2k words You and Theodore hate each other. Amidst exam season, was the tension and the teasing because of your rivalry or something else?

Theodore Nott Who Theodore Nott Who Part 2 Theodore Nott Who Part 3 (protective edition) Toxic Theo who

Dating Theo headcanons Dating Theo headcanons, Part 2

Dating Theo headcanons, Part 3

Dating Theo mood board

Dark Marks and Forbidden Hearts (Ongoing book on wattpad)

Dark Marks and Forbidden Heart, Theo Nott Fanfic, navigation

Slytherin Boys react:

how they reaction to you getting sloppy drunk at a party

How they would say I love you for the first time

How they would react to you crying

How they would hold/cuddle you

Slytherin boys + Pansy as poetry quotes

Slytherin Boys fan edits together

How they would react to you getting into a physical fight with another student

How they react to Snape catching them smoking a j

Slytherin boys and their romantic tropes

Draco Malfoy

Dating Draco Malfoy mood board

Matteo Riddle

Dating Metteo Riddle mood board

Matteo Riddle headcanons Headcanons Part 2

Us on repeat, Angst Matteo gets possessive after seeing reader at party after break up

Pansy Parksinson

Pansy Parkinson mood board

Tom Riddle

dating Tom Riddle mood board

Lorenzo Berkshire

coming soon

#theo nott #slytherin #theodore nott imagine #hogwarts #theodore nott #theo nott fluff #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #harry potter #dating theo nott #slytherin boys #slytherin fanfiction #goldentrio #mauraders #sirius black #mattheo riddle #harry potter masterlist #masterlist

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fennekinfoxuwu · 3 months ago

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How would the Ancients reacted to the revelation that Gingerbrave, Strawberry, and Wizard cookie are orphans as well as their confirm age in this au, cus the game makes it Canon that there kids (minus chili pepper) that is.

HMMmmmm....

Ok, let me clarify some things 1st before I start, in this au, the trio are siblings not by blood/jam or dough whatever you want to call it they were raised together that is all I can say.

As for their age in this au, Gingerbrave would be the oldest while Strawberry Cookie & Wizard Cookie would be baked at the same time but Strawberry would be the middle.

I'm not going to go in too deep so I'll go straight to the point. The trio would escape around 5-6 so their present age ( this is around after the beast yeast episode when the tree gets resealed ) would be 11-12 ys. After the events all of the ancients come together to have a meeting to discuss the beast while Gingerbrave & the other two discuss some things of their own when Strawberry suddenly points out their gold experience and how they are going to have to camp outside again which the ancients overheard when they couldn't help but asked what they mean they just said they have been sleeping out for years not realizing that that's not safe for kids to be out without there parents/caretakers which would confuse them cuz they don't have any they certainly didn't have anyone in there lives except for the witch that disappeared but overall they had lived like this since they were 11-12.

That revelation my friends was the one info that broke the dragon's back.

Pure Vanilla Cookie, when he heard this was HORRIFIED by that revelation that these kids have been living on their own for that long but nothing compared to the fact that they were much younger thanseem he knew they were young and he as Healer Cookie was concerned for them (he still is) he didn't think they were that young.

Hollyberry Cookie was very displeased by this as a mother and a grandmother she did not like the fact that these kids who had stopped DE the 1st time had no guardians to come back to (and you better believe her mama bear instincts are kicking in).

Dark Cacao Cookie while still keeping a strat face inside is scolding himself for not noticing this nor the fact they're technically homeless it reminds him of DC of the fact that he's somewhere out in the frozen wild.

Golden Cheese Cookie did NOT like the thought of three kids who are oven-baked to be out there in the wild where dangerous creatures lurk day and night on their own with no cookies to care for them and they shouldn't be going through this either.

White Lily Cookie was more or less in shock about this and since she is the only one who knows about the Witches she couldn't comprehend nor understand the how or why, but one thing is certain these kids are different... they know a lot more than they let on, and she doesn't know how to feel about this since it was her curiosity that leads to DE Cookie.

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #ancient cookies #beast yeast #cookie run au #gingerbrave #strawberry cookie #the aurora trio #the cookie gems gang #wizard cookie #there is more to you that I don't know au

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ephemerasnape · 5 days ago

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Curiosity would like to know what the secret kinks and favourite sex positions all the Ashwinders, Harlow and Rookwood included are.

I like to think that back in the Victorian era, it would have been a lot less likely to have kinks and such because they didn't spend all day jerking off to internet porn. However, that doesn't mean they wouldn't have tastes or preferences at all.

WARNING: Some of these are extremely depraved and fucked up.

🔞🔞🔞

Victor Rookwood

At "only" 5'8", Victor is dwarfed by most of the men (and women) in his ranks. That said, attitude is everything, and he is a very dominant, commanding, and selfish lover.

Rookwood prefers positions where he's in control: missionary, prone bone, doggy style and such, but as you may have read in Devoutly, he can be flexible and creative when he needs to be.

Sometimes, bringing a woman off makes things more pleasurable for her partner, so he isn't completely against it.

He also loves getting his cock sucked by a witch who is on her knees.

Theophilus Harlow

This big, burly wizard loves to eat pussy and be pretend-dominated by a pretty witch. His favorite position is cowgirl, but the closest he usually gets is reverse-cowgirl which allows his partner to avoid having to look at his face or smell his breath.

Man's got a firm grip on them hips tho.

Oswald Tarrington

Oswald's favorite sex positions are any and all. Due to his youth and inexperience, he is aroused by the slightest sexual suggestion in relation to a female. Even a whiff of a familiar perfume can cause him to spring an untimely, public erection, which then must be carefully concealed under a glamour.

Oswald likes older women well enough because he has a "mum thing" but he'll go for any passably-pretty girl. He's a romantic who easily develops feelings for any woman he's the least bit involved with.

Ernie Macnair

Ashwinder Soldier Ernie Macnair is a dirty bastard. He'll never miss a chance to have a go at a witch, especially if she's young and pretty, but he does have his particular tastes. He likes it rough with a lot of talk, power play, and doesn't care if his partner is in pain, much less non-consenting.

Basically, he's an unapologetic rapist.

Mortimus Ackerley

Mortimus is a big guy with a big dick, and it's difficult for him to find a witch who can accommodate his girth. The towering, hulking wizard finds it expedient at times to grip a witch about the middle and lift her to waist height so he can copulate with her mid-air, almost using her like a human fleshlight, except a struggling and screaming one. Good thing Mortimus definitely doesn't mind a little blood on his sword, because it's easier going in when a witch is having her monthlies.

That said, he's not all a violent brute - he also has a soft side that can come out after he's finished railing you almost to death.

H. Wm. "Uncle Willy" Macnair

Uncle Willy wants to put a baby in you. You could call it a "breeding kink," but Macnair calls it the "propagation of the species," "survival of the fittest," and all that jazz. So when he's rutting you, he's going to talk a lot about how he intends to ejaculate inside of you and impregnate you, whether you like it or not.

If you act like you're into it, however, he won't believe you. He almost prefers when you say "no" and plead for him to stop.

Macnair knows that muggle women are less likely to be able to avoid pregnancy, so he frequents muggle pubs and villages when he can get away without scrutiny, Imperio and Obliviate at the tip of his wand.

Angus McLaggen

Angus is a kind and considerate lover with perfectly normal tastes. He wants to find a nice witch to settle down and have lots of children with.

What were you expecting?

#dark wizards react #kinda #asks #victor rookwood #victor rookwood headcanons #theophilus harlow #ashwinders #oswald the ashwinder scout #ernie macnair #h wm macnair #mortimus ackerley #poachers #angus mclaggen #rookwood gang #my screengrabs

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artytaeh · 11 months ago

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ˆ⌣ˆ ⭑ | 🪐 ’ 平和 𔘓 : MASTERLIST

welcome to my blog ! . . .

⭑ currently, i'm dedicating my writing to scenarios, imagines, headcanons and fics about harry potter's characters. i mainly write about the slytherin boys + the weasley twins; even so, i might make exceptions! 🌷

· 🪽 ; other obsessions ! not related to harry potter.

⭑ my question box is always open! i might take a while to answer, however, any interaction is very welcome here. so please interact with me!

⭑ requests are open, too; if there's anything you'd like for me to write / drabble about, i'm more than happy to ramble on. however, i post rq given how fast i can write them, which might take time.

☆ ⠀̹⠀໋⠀ꕀ drabbles, headcanons, shortfics && silly thoughts. thank you so much for reading!

THEODORE F. NOTT ; 1980 ── ?! . 𖤐 masterlist. ⠀⠀̹⠀໋

⭑ when theodore becomes teddy : a drabble that feels more of a rambling about my perspective of how theodore deals with his issues.

⭑ theo as your baby's father : a little headcanon about how theodore would encourage your toddler to say mama first.

⭑ the sarcastic men apocalypse : theodore nott was born to be a sassy man.

⭑ cigarettes out the astronomy tower : headcanons about this specific tower of hogwarts' castle being yours, and theo's, spot.

⭑ mia stella : in which theodore nott calls you his stargirl, the brightest of all.

⭑ regret : a tiny drabble about theodore regretting not running away from you.

⭑ honeymoon : headcanons about going on a honeymoon with your husband, theodore nott, to italy.

⭑ portrait of you : a drabble about how portraits / paintings work in the wizard world, and how theodore would take advantage of that.

⭑ unfair : theodore nott has a hard time asking for help. somehow, in this drabble, it became worse.

⭑ friends to lovers : drabble about my opinion about what's the 'best' trope for theodore nott.

⭑ oral fixation : headcanon about this habit that theodore nott has.

⭑ theodore nott and gift giving : he's just a rich boyfriend that enjoys to spoil his girlfriend.

⭑ stubborn pettiness : in which theo has his own way to deal with your bratty behavior; drabble.

MATTHEO T. RIDDLE ; 1980 ── ?! . 𖤐 masterlist. ⠀⠀̹⠀໋

⭑ mattheo riddle, who... : general headcanons about the dark lord's son, doomed since birth. [ angst, fluff, hcs about his friendships and behavior. ]

⭑ mattheo as your baby's father : expect some competition from him; mattheo will do everything and anything to have your baby say 'dada' first.

⭑ the girl he loves, and the girl he likes : headcanons about mattheo riddle as your situationship or as a fwb.

⭑ honeymoon : headcanons about going on a honeymoon with mattheo riddle, your husband, to mexico.

⭑ cuddly mattheo : drabble (smut) about mommy issues!mattheo being cuddly with reader.

⭑ a war that he never wins : drabble, about mattheo complaining about how spoiled you are— it's his fault!

⭑ m.r. smut headcanons : a long, long post about most of my smut hcs about mattheo riddle.

⭑ how does mattheo react to falling in love? : drabble about the way he deals with romantic feelings.

⭑ can mattheo riddle sing? : with the addiction of my headcanons about mattheo's music taste

⭑ misunderstandings in the boring people's eyes : after trying knife play slash blood kink with you, mattheo is conflicted when you show up exposing your new scars for the whole school to see. more about this.

THOMAS M. RIDDLE ; 1926 ── ?! . 𖤐 masterlist. ⠀⠀̹⠀໋

⭑ how tom riddle would manipulate you : in which i can't agree with the fandom's perception of tom riddle treating you, straightout, indelicately.

⭑ defense against the dark ambitions : professor tom riddle returns to hogwarts to become the new DADA's teacher. general headcanons + aus masterlist.

↑ drabble with tom's admiration dynamic with auror!reader vs professor!reader.

LORENZO CHARLES BERKSHIRE ; 1980 ── ?! . 𖤐 masterlist. ⠀⠀̹⠀໋

⭑ dating & general headcanons : lorenzo as reader's boyfriend and random headcanons about him.

⭑ study case of lorenzo berkshire : my personal headcanons and perspective of slytherin's sweetheart. more details on it.

SLYTHERIN BOYS ── 𖤐 masterlist. ⠀⠀̹⠀໋

⭑ handmade gifts : small drabble based on an ask; includes mattheo riddle, regulus black, draco malfoy and blaise zabini.

⭑ gifts they'd like to receive : small drabble based on an ask, including mattheo riddle, regulus black and blaise zabini.

⭑ spoiled rotten : drabble about mattheo riddle / theodore nott becoming two dramatic boyfriends for affectionate reader.

⭑ reaction to you being interrupted : slytherin boys being protective boyfriends when reader is interrupted in a group of people.

⭑ the best tropes for the slytherin boys : individual romantic trope that fits them the most.

⭑ slytherin boys as boobsessed : part one with part two coming soon.

⭑ slytherin boys react to your hair being cut short : small request.

⭑ favorite, least favorite and worst subjects : drabble about which subjects i think each slytherin boy would struggle / enjoy the most.

⭑ strongest to weakest : headcanons and ranking.

⭑ how do the slytherin boys dress like? : headcanons about individual tastes, style, favorite accessories and more.

⭑ what if their partner threw a punch for them? : slytherin boys react to their significant other defending them.

⭑ house preferences for a girlfriend : would the slytherin boys rather dating a fellow snake, or a girl from a house like ravenclaw, hufflepuff or gryffindor?

FRED && GEORGE · WEASLEY TWINS ; 1978 ── ?! . 𖤐 masterlist. ⠀⠀̹⠀໋

⭑ scenarios based on abba's songs : in which reader is an avid fan of abba, influencing fred and george to become fluent in every single song, too.

⭑ birthday girl : when an important exam takes place on your birthday, fred and george make sure that your day isn't ruined by an 'unlucky' score.

( ☆ ) : check my c.ai bots: masterlist.

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the-clock-of-the-time-dragon · 6 months ago

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[Wicked: For Good speculation/predictions]

[obviously spoilers + wild conjecture + musings]

Okay so I have many thoughts about what we might get in the second film, and decided to put them all in one place; so here we are.

1.) I've heard a lot of people mentioning that the movie might choose not to jump straight into Thank Goodness, and instead opt for some sort of buffer opening to establish the time-skip and whatnot. I think it would be amazing to actually see Elphaba flying around Oz saving Animals and being harbored as a fugitive and stuff; maybe we could even get reintroduced to Brrr briefly! He's obviously able to speak, so maybe that implies Fiyero took him to an Animal resistance group or something for safety? The map of Oz shown in Something Bad does imply that there might be such groups around, plus of course Doctor Dillamond mentioning protests. Maybe we'll get to see some of that on-screen; I think that would be fascinating. Maybe as kind of a soft adaptation of Elphaba's domestic terrorist phase in the book. This is possibly all supported as well by the shots we've seen of the Yellow Brick Road under construction; presumably this will be early in the film, since obviously it must predate Dorothy's arrival, so I suspect these might be the opening scenes before we get to see how Oz is reacting to Elphaba's activities at the start of Thank Goodness.

2.) I suspect we'll find out that Madame Morrible is not only the one who brought Dorothy to Oz, but also the Wizard — and maybe even more interestingly, caused the Great Drought (which I think is quite heavily implied to be the Dust Bowl, based on the time period and a scrawling on one of the chalkboards in the background; which I think is meant to be Dillamond's research). (My current headcanon is that Morrible accidentally caused the formation of the Impassable Desert (since it is also mentioned on the same chalkboard), which caused a ripple effect out into Kansas and started the Dust Bowl.) If we do get more background on Morrible and her earlier magic experimentation (and maybe even the Grimmerie), I suspect we'll learn that her heart's desire was always to be the prophesied magical savior of Oz, and the Grimmerie based on those vibes (since it seems to read the hearts of the ones using it and flip to pages that will give them what they want, like how it heard "birds" and went straight to relevant pages) brought the Wizard (and by extension, Elphaba) and Dorothy into Oz. In a way it feels like the Grimmerie is sort of the dark magical inverse of what the Wizard does: they hear the desires of people's hearts, and "grant" it in a deceptive way. The Wizard "grants" wishes through bullshitery and spectacle (and the people who come to him for help always end up having to get what they wanted themselves), while the Grimmerie "grants" wishes using real magic (and so can actually give things that the wisher didn't already possess) but always in a fucked up way that they'll end up regretting. I've already made a post about the theme of "the heart's desire" and how it's explored in the original Wizard of Oz and in Wicked — and maybe at some point I'll do a longer analysis of that (for instance, the fact the Wizard was in possession of the book and got his heart's desire to be a father in the most catastrophic way imaginable) — but it's really interesting if we consider that Morrible's desire seems to be to essentially be the Witch of Oz, and the answer given by the Grimmerie might basically have been the giant magical backfire that brought all three of the most plot-important characters into Oz in the first place. It's possible this won't actually be explained and will remain in headcanon territory, but with the way they've been focusing more on Madame Morrible I think we'll probably get at least a little something exploring her background and connections with the Wizard (and it would be really interesting if we got more stuff relating to the Grimmerie in the process).

3.) In the frames we've seen of Dorothy, the slippers are still silver! Not ruby! We know from interviews that the production team read the original Wonderful Wizard of Oz and took heavy inspiration from it, so I assume keeping the shoes silver was an executive decision on their part. But it has some really interesting implications about what sort of changes might've been made to Part 2. We already knew that we're getting major alterations to Nessa's narrative — groundwork for that was already laid in the ways they changed her in the first movie, particularly surrounding her relationship to Elphaba and her agency regarding movement, which I think is great — but regarding this I've heard some people asking if this means we might not get Nessarose standing. Marissa Bode who plays her is capable of limited standing and walking, so I doubt that part will have been cut entirely; but I'm really curious about the ways in which Nessa's story might have been rewritten. The point of her independence has been emphasized a lot thus far, so I think we might get some tweaking (or outright cutting) of the "hideous chair with wheels" bit; and with how we got the lines about Nessa wanting to make a new start and Elphaba getting in the way of that, I think it's likely we'll get less of a focus on "why haven't you used your powers to help me walk Elphaba?" and more on "wow, you ruined my life again Elphaba". I am curious about whether Nessa will still be able to read the Grimmerie (which always felt a little like a plot hole/contrivance in the original show, so it would need a proper explanation at the very least), or if perhaps — since I believe it's being set up that the Grimmerie can "read" people around it and give them a fucked up version of what they think they want — Nessarose's dark desire at that moment is to not have a heart (kinda like that line from the 1939 movie: "As for you, my galvanized friend: you want a heart. You don't know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable") and gets Elphaba to read it: but neither knows what it will actually do until Boq's heart starts shrinking away into nothingness. (Also I'm fairly positive that the still we got of Elphaba below is from the Colwen Grounds scene with Nessa and Boq: I've heard some people presuming it's from No Good Deed, but the background, her expression (which seems to me to be obviously her trying to get Nessa/Boq to calm tf down), and the fact she seems to be in the same costume as in the Yellow Brick Road scene, tells me it's almost certainly from Wicked Witch of the East.)

4.) We're told to expect two new songs from Stephen Schwartz! I'm extremely curious what these might be (and naturally, Gelphie simp as I am, would like at least one one of them to have some more good ol' gay goodness from our girls), but we don't have a whole lot to go on for clues yet other than (as far as I can tell, unconfirmed?) reports that one is an Elphaba solo and the other is a Glinda solo. This is very exciting of course, but until we have more insight it's still too early to make deep predictions. Although as for hopes, I'd obviously like for a new Glinda number to involve her grappling with her feelings more — a much-needed addition — and for Elphaba to perhaps get some of that as well (it would help the lead-up to Wonderful make a bit more narrative sense, if nothing else). And if it turns out they aren't Glinda or Elphaba songs, then I think Fiyero or Boq deserve to get a little bit more to sing. All Schwartz has said thus far is that the new music was made to meet the needs of the story: so (since the two songs DON'T seem to just be reworkings of existing ones, and are actually all-new, film-only material) that further supports the fact we'll be getting fairly major changes to the plot.

5.) The Glinda-Fiyero wedding seems to either happen or very nearly happen??? Extremely interesting expansion on the original material, I can't wait to see what they do with it. I've heard some people saying it might just be a fantasy sequence or something — and I suppose it could be — but I don't think so; the style of filmmaking and writing is deliberately "grounded" to make Oz feel real, and the first film didn't have any imaginary scenes. I think the wedding scene will happen at the same time as (or directly before) Wonderful, and will probably be interrupted: maybe by the release of the flying monkeys, the Wizard rallying the guards after Elphaba, or — scandal! — even by Elphaba herself! (No, I don't think we'll be getting the "I object!" sequence out of Shrek, even though it would be hilariously apropos, lol.) We've seen an image of what looks like Elphaba back in the Emerald City (maybe right before Wonderful, perhaps sneaking into the Wizard's palace to free the Animals; or perhaps just after Wonderful, after finding Doctor Dillamond and deciding to remain the Wizard's enemy?), and judging by when these events would have to line up based on the story of the musical, I think these are almost certainly within the same section. It seems like the wedding sequence might be a decent spot for some of the new music: or maybe a beefed-up version of Glinda's I'm Not That Girl, if she got left at the altar or something.

6.) We've seen this image of Glinda running up a staircase (with the Grimmerie in hand, and in her Bubble Dress): this seems very likely to be immediately after For Good and the Melting — I suspect Glinda is heading up the stairs to see the aftermath, recover Elphie's hat, and receive the green bottle from Chistery. OR, it could also be related to the Wizard — the wood reminds me of the tower in the Emerald City palace where all of Oscar Diggs' old stuff from Omaha was stored at the end of the first film, so I'm wondering if this is Glinda going up to confront him after realizing that he's Elphaba's father, maybe.

EDIT: I realized after reviewing a better quality image with higher contrast and saturation that the latter possibility I suggested is more likely than the former — behind the wooden beams are the emerald blocks we see in the Wizard's palace, so this frame seems almost certainly to be from the scene where Glinda confronts the Wizard in his tower after returning from Kiamo Ko. And what a brilliant way to do that scene, if indeed that's what this is: the Wizard isn't just sitting despondent in his throne room, he went up to wallow in his old mediocrity — and Glinda doesn't just fly up to him, she ascends the same path she once went up with Elphie, processing her grief the whole way up. The painnnnnnn. It makes her ordering him to fly away in the same balloon that he arrived in — and that Glinda and Elphaba NEARLY escaped in before everything — all the more bitter and ironic. Can't wait to see Jeff Goldblum sell the Wizard's descent into the mother of all midlife crises, fiddling with his old sideshow props in the attic as he comes to know the true despair wrought by his hand.

7.) Will the ending be changed?? It seems all but confirmed that the cloaked figure riding away out of Kiamo Ko at the start of Part 1 was Elphaba: this costume concept for the second film looks identical to what we saw the rider wearing. Add to that (as I've talked about in a prior post) the fact the Scarecrow is shown alongside Dorothy on the Yellow Brick Road, implies that at the very least the events of the last few minutes of the musical have been revised. My earlier post listed four different possible alterations (from Elphaba leaving Oz alone, to her still meeting with Fiyero somewhere else after everything, to her somehow letting Glinda and/or Fiyero know she's alive before leaving, or (hope against hope) that she takes Glinda with her), but it's still far too early to tell what they might've gone with. I just hope that at least wrote it better than it was originally. The image of Elphaba riding out of Oz on horseback across the desert would certainly be striking, no matter which option they chose.

#gelphie #wicked #elphaba thropp #glinda upland #glinda x elphaba #elphaba #wicked movie #elphaba x glinda #glinda #wicked part 2 #wicked for good

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starlight727 · 7 months ago

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A little gift (part 2, no one asked for it but screw it)

Shadow Milk Cookie x reader fic (Chapter 2 - Theater of Lies)

Author's note: Made a part 2 cause I'm not done with my idea, I still have something else related to the story that I wanna show you (if you're interested, of course) Also, thank you for the wonderful comments in the first part, I'm glad you liked it! I hope you like this next part as much as the last one. Now, on with the show!

Part 1

Part 2 (you are here)

Part 3

A lot has happened since you got that hat: Elder Faerie died trying to buy you some time, and White Lily became the new guardian of the Seal, which made Shadow Milk Cookie changed the performance... into a quiz show! You were jumping up and down excitedly since you were eager to answer his questions (maybe that way he'll notice you for sure!). You sat down and took a deep breath before the quiz started, everyone else was standing up and steeling themselves, ready for any tricks he might pull on them. Everyone was feeling on edge after all of the recent events, and they felt very concerned and confused about the way you reacted to everything: You barely showed worry when Shadow Milk Cookie turned the whole kingdom into his personal circus, you showed remorse when Elder Faerie died but moved on quickly as soon as Shadow Milk started talking again, and now you're excited about a deadly quiz show, what the heck was wrong with you? Everyone turned to the stage when they heard Shadow Milk speak, but Wizard's gaze lingered a bit, he was gonna find out what was making you feel this way.

"Now, for the first question! Out of these False Heroes, which one is only half a Cookie? Choose your answer carefully and don't forget: time is ticking!" started Shadow Milk, as he pulled out five poorly-drawn cardboard cutouts of the Ancients, it made you giggle a bit seeing those goofy cutouts. Wizard Cookie was keeping an eye on you as you sat there, thinking.

"Half a Cookie? Isn't that... White Lily Cookie?" you pondered whether you should give your answer or not because you didn't want to put your friends in danger if you got it wrong (and you didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of him). Suddenly, you hear someone else answer.

"None of them!" yelled out Gingerbrave proudly, thinking he beat Shadow Milk at his own game.

"...oh crumbs." you thought to yourself.

"WRONG!!! Let the punishment ensue! Now... Who wants to be crumbled first?" announced Shadow Milk so loudly that it startled you. You gasped in fear of what might happen to you and your friends, and Gingerbrave (that dummy was gonna get you all crumbled!!).

"The right answer is... All of them" Pure Vanilla spoke up before anything else could happen. Thankfully, that was the answer he was looking for, so you sighed in relief, gave Gingerbrave a glare and moved on to the next question. Wizard noticed you do this, he was taking note of any changes in behavior you exhibited.

"Out of these three Cookies... Who is the biggest liar? Remember, your time is running out! So don't think for too long!" said Shadow Milk as he took out Pure Vanilla's and White Lily's cardboard cutouts and an amazingly detailed cutout of himself (you could tell how much he loved himself by the amount of effort he put into it compared to the others, it made you chuckle a bit).

"Ooh, a trick question! Ok, it can't be Shadow Milk because that would be too obvious, it might be White Lily because she lied about her being Dark Enchantress, but... how is Pure Vanilla a liar?" you thought to yourself as you wondered why Pure Vanilla was part of the choices, until you heard someone speak up.

"This is easy! It's Shadow Milk Cookie, who else!" said Wizard Cookie, so sure of his answer that he doesn't even realize that it's too easy! You started sweating and fidgeting your non-existent fingers until you heard a third Cookie speak.

"Oh no, that's... too easy..." commented Strawberry Cookie, at least someone had common sense. You got lost in your thoughts, thinking about the horrible punishment Shadow Milk had prepared for all of you!

"Well then, are you ready? What's your answer?" speak of the devil, Shadow Milk came back to hear your team's final answer.

"Come on, just repeat after me! 'Shadow...'" started Wizard Cookie, you were sooo gonna strangle him and Gingerbrave after you're done here cause like... DO THEY HAVE DEATH WISHES OR SOMETHING?!

"The biggest liar is... me, Pure Vanilla Cookie." his voice snapped you out of your silent frenzy, what was he doing?? Surely he had a good reason to call himself a liar now more than ever. Fortunately for you and unfortunately for him, that was the right answer (tho you didn't like the implications of it), another breath of relief is taken, then you give Wizard a glare, and prepare yourself for the next question.

...No, you know what? You were so angry at Wizard Cookie that, in a fit of rage, you took your hat from your head and threw it at him. Oh no!! What have you done?! You tried to apologize, but Wizard, who's been holding you suspect for having strange behavior concerning the Beast of Deceit, took it and came to the conclusion that maybe it was that stupid hat that was doing something to you, so the best course of action was to get rid of it entirely by turning it into ashes via a lightning bolt he casted on it after placing it down on the ground.

"NO!!!" you shouted as you ran to the place where your hat used to be, now turned into a pile of ash and dust. You picked up the ashes from the ground, hands trembling and tears building up in your eyes, your breath shaking and your voice breaking as you squeaked out your response.

"WHY?! Why did you do that??" you exclaimed as you threw ash at Wizard Cookie, who blocked your attack from his face but still coughed from the smell of it in the air.

"It was for your own good, that hat was controlling you, couldn't you see that?!" said Wizard Cookie in an unpleasant angry tone that even he wasn't proud of. He sighed in a tired manner and continued.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I did, but you have to understand that these are dire circumstances we're facing, so we need you to come to your senses so we can finish this and leave as soon as possible, alright?" he said with a softer tone to try to make you feel better. All you could do was get up, wipe away your angry tears and look away.

"Fine." you said, holding back more tears from flowing on your cheeks. Your face was red from the surge of emotions, so you took a few deep breaths to calm down.

But privacy isn't a thing for Shadow Milk Cookie, he saw and heard everything. There was steam coming from his head, his slit eyes were so small that they looked like toothpicks, his face might turn into a different color because of how furious he was! How dare that shorty ruin your perfect gift, he worked so hard to get it to you, and now it was nothing but a pile of cinder. He swore that he would exact his revenge on that so-called wizard and his friends, a devious grin grew on his face as he remembered his final question for them.

"Don't you worry, my little star, your darling jester will take care of this." declared Shadow Milk in his head, as he prepared everything for the last question... and final showdown.

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avocado-writing · 1 year ago

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do you have any headcanons on how the bg3 men + teifling bachelors would react to their s/o teasing them ? i have a desperate need to see these men needy

minors dni

Astarion teases right back. He is an expert at driving people wild, after all, but with you it’s sincere. He loves to hear the way you moan and whine for him. He pretends he’s fine when you play with him and that he can take it, but wants to even the odds as soon as he possibly can… you’ll be crying out each other’s names by the end of the night, if he has his way.

Gale panics. Goes bright red. Coughs out a reply, tries to hide the growing bulge in his robes. If you’re not at a stage where you’re intimate, will need to excuse himself and take his hardness into his own hand in order to finish off. If you are intimate he’ll pull you into his tent immediately. The man has no patience and you’re glad for it…

Wyll teases you back too and is surprisingly good at it. Honeyed words whispered into your ear when you’re with company, pulling back and giving you a sweet smile as if he didn’t just tell you all the ways he wants to have you when he gets you alone. You can tell your words rouse him from the way he crosses his legs, but he’s a masterful opponent in return.

Halsin enjoys a tease as much as the next elf, and loves a long day of the two of you riling each other up before one of you breaks and takes the other with gusto. Find him picking you up and pressing you into a tree to make love to you, or dropping onto his knees to satisfy you with his mouth. The work up is just as good as the payoff in his opinion 💕

Dammon becomes surprisingly overwhelmed, red cheeked and words stuttered. A little rub of his horns or fingers along his tail give him a full-body reaction. The strong, professional tiefling becomes willing putty in your hands, happy to do whatever you ask so long as you please him in return…

Rolan is so touched-starved that any teasing will almost immediately get him off. Rub him through his robes, run your tongue across the shell of his ear, he’s gone. Masterful wizard reduced to a needy and whiny mess. Finishes quickly but will work his magic on you until he’s ready to go again, and draws it out all night ✨

Zevlor is thrilled you’d want to tease an old man like him. He enjoys the game of it all, willing to drag you into dark corners for long, steamy kisses before the two of you get caught. When you get to bed that night he drags out his pleasuring of you, drives you wild for him, but tuts and tells you to be good for him and wait with a glint in his eye 😈

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ms-snape · 8 months ago

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Snape x reader where she's pregnant and he thinks she's cheated but ofc she hasn't and he apologieses. Lots of angst but fluffy ending where they both cry about the fact that they will be becoming parents

Title: How Could You

Warning: Angst, Fluff ending

Words Count: 2600+

Masterlist

---

The chilly October air whistled through the cracks of Hogwarts Castle, making the dimly lit corridors seem even more unwelcoming. Y/n stood alone in the Herbology greenhouse, her hands gently resting on her stomach as she stared out into the stormy night. She had rehearsed this moment countless times in her head, wondering how Severus would react when she told him the news—news that was supposed to bring them joy. Yet now, a knot of anxiety tightened in her chest.

She and Severus had been through so much together. The first wizarding war, the losses, the weight of their responsibilities—each had left a mark on their souls. But this? This was supposed to be the start of something new, a future free from darkness. And yet, as the time approached to tell him, doubt gnawed at her resolve. She wondered if Severus would accept this new life they had created or if the years of bitterness and mistrust would cloud his judgment. She feared the latter.

That night, as she entered their quarters, she found Severus hunched over his desk, his long fingers dancing across the parchment as he graded essays. The warm glow of the fireplace cast long shadows across the room, flickering over his face. He glanced up when she entered, his dark eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to his work.

“Severus,” she began softly, standing by the fire and warming her chilled hands. She wasn’t sure how to approach the subject without overwhelming him.

“Mmm?” he grunted, barely acknowledging her presence. He seemed distracted, irritated even.

She bit her lip. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. The fire crackled in the silence that followed.

Severus set down his quill and folded his hands, his expression unreadable as he turned to her. “What is it?” he asked, his tone clipped.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I’m pregnant, Severus. We’re going to have a child.”

For a moment, the room was suspended in silence. His eyes widened ever so slightly, shock flashing across his features, but it quickly disappeared, replaced by something cold, something dangerous.

"Pregnant?" His voice was quiet, dangerously calm. "And whose child would this be?"

Y/n felt as though the floor had been ripped out from beneath her. Her stomach dropped, and her hands instinctively moved to her belly as if to protect the child from the venom in his words.

“What… what do you mean?” she stammered, her heart racing.

Severus stood up, the chair scraping against the floor as he loomed over her. His expression was dark, his face twisted in suspicion and anger. “You’ve barely spent time with me for the last few months,” he spat. “You expect me to believe that this child is mine? Or is it someone else’s—someone who’s been giving you attention that I apparently have not given you?”

Y/n’s mouth went dry. The implications of his words struck her like a physical blow. “How can you say that? Of course, this is your child!”

He sneered, pacing back and forth in front of her, the shadows casting him in an almost sinister light. "Perhaps it's Lockhart's," he said bitterly, the name dripping with disdain. “He always seems to enjoy your company in the staff room. Smiling, flirting.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Severus, the man she loved, the man who had always been cautious with his emotions, was accusing her of the unthinkable. Her heart ached with disbelief, with pain.

"How dare you?" she whispered, her voice breaking. Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "I have never been unfaithful to you. This child is yours, Severus. How could you doubt me like this?"

Severus turned his back to her, his hands gripping the edges of his desk. His shoulders were tense, his breathing shallow. "You've given me every reason to doubt," he hissed, his voice shaking with barely contained rage. “I’m not blind. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Y/n’s heart shattered at his words. The weight of his mistrust was unbearable. “I can’t believe you think so little of me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought we were stronger than this.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension between them was suffocating. Severus remained silent, his back still turned to her. His coldness was more painful than any words he could have spoken.

Unable to stand the sight of him any longer, Y/n turned and left the room, her heart pounding in her chest as she rushed through the castle corridors. Tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t stop until she reached the sanctuary of her private office in the greenhouses. Once there, she collapsed into a chair, her body trembling as sobs wracked her frame.

The following days passed in a blur of misery. Y/n avoided Severus as much as possible, retreating into her work and isolating herself from the rest of the staff. Her energy waned, her appetite disappeared, and dark circles formed under her eyes as sleepless nights took their toll. She was a shadow of herself, and even her students began to notice the change.

It was Minerva McGonagall who finally intervened. The older woman had always been perceptive, and when Y/n dragged herself into the staffroom one evening, pale and withdrawn, Minerva couldn’t help but notice.

“Y/n, dear,” Minerva said gently, placing a hand on her arm. “You don’t look well. Is everything alright?”

Y/n forced a weak smile, though her voice betrayed her exhaustion. “I’m fine, Minerva. Just… tired.”

But Minerva wasn’t fooled. She guided Y/n to sit down, her eyes filled with concern. “This is more than just tiredness. You’ve been avoiding everyone, even Severus. What’s going on?”

At the mention of Severus, the fragile dam holding back Y/n’s emotions cracked, and before she could stop herself, the tears began to fall. She covered her face with her hands, unable to speak through the sobs that overtook her.

Minerva’s heart softened, and she pulled Y/n into a comforting embrace. “It’s alright, dear. You can tell me.”

Y/n clung to her, the weight of the past few days finally spilling out in broken words. “He thinks… he thinks I cheated,” she managed between sobs. “He doesn’t believe… the baby’s his.”

Minerva’s eyes darkened with anger, and her lips pressed into a thin line. “That man,” she muttered under her breath. “I should’ve known something was wrong.”

Pulling back, she looked Y/n in the eyes and spoke firmly. “You need to take care of yourself, Y/n. Not just for your sake, but for the baby’s. Go to your quarters and rest. I will speak to Severus.”

“But—” Y/n began to protest, but Minerva wouldn’t hear it.

“No buts,” she said sternly. “You need rest. Now go.”

Reluctantly, Y/n nodded, too drained to argue. She made her way back to her quarters, her body aching with exhaustion, and collapsed onto the bed. Sleep claimed her almost instantly.

Meanwhile, Minerva stormed through the dungeons, her robes billowing behind her as she made her way to Severus’s office. She didn’t bother knocking, pushing the door open with enough force to startle him from his desk.

“Minerva,” Severus began, but she cut him off with a glare that could have frozen flames.

“Do not ‘Minerva’ me,” she snapped, her voice icy with anger. “I’ve just spoken to Y/n, and I cannot believe what I’ve heard.”

Severus stiffened, his eyes narrowing. “If you’ve come to lecture me—”

“Oh, I’ve come to do far more than lecture you, Severus Snape,” she said, her voice rising. “How dare you accuse your wife—your pregnant wife—of infidelity? How dare you doubt her loyalty after everything she’s done for you?”

Severus stood, his expression defensive. “You don’t understand—”

“I understand perfectly well,” Minerva interrupted. “You’ve let your insecurities and paranoia cloud your judgment, and now you’ve broken her heart.”

Her words hit him like a physical blow. He looked away, his jaw tightening as guilt gnawed at him. “I… I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to?” Minerva scoffed. “You’ve done enough damage with your thoughtless words. She’s devastated, Severus. You need to make this right.”

For a moment, Severus said nothing, the weight of his actions settling heavily on his shoulders. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “What should I do?”

Minerva’s gaze softened, though her tone remained firm. “Go to her. Apologize. And for Merlin’s sake, show her that you love her.”

---

Severus found Y/n lying in bed, her back to him, her breathing slow and steady. He stood in the doorway for a long moment, unsure of how to approach her. The guilt he had buried over the past few days rose to the surface, and for the first time, he allowed himself to truly see what he had done.

He knelt beside the bed, his heart aching as he gently touched her shoulder. “Y/n,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

She stirred, blinking groggily as she turned to face him. Hergaze met his, and for a moment, they simply stared at one another in silence. Her eyes were swollen from crying, her cheeks pale and hollow from days of stress and exhaustion. Seeing her like this—so broken, so fragile—made Severus’s chest tighten with shame.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as though he feared the words would shatter the moment. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/n’s expression didn’t soften. She sat up slowly, clutching the blankets around her. “Sorry for what, Severus?” she asked quietly, her voice thick with emotion. “Sorry for doubting me? Sorry for accusing me of something so awful? Or sorry because you realized you were wrong?”

Severus swallowed hard, his throat constricting as he searched for the right words. He had always been a man of few sentiments, preferring silence to vulnerability, but this moment demanded more. It demanded that he expose his fears, his insecurities, and that was terrifying.

“I… I let my fears get the best of me,” he began, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’ve never been good at trusting people, and I’ve… I’ve never had much reason to believe in happiness. When you told me about the child… I panicked.”

Y/n shook her head, tears filling her eyes once more. “Panicked?” she echoed, her voice quivering. “You didn’t panic, Severus. You accused me of betraying you. You accused me of carrying someone else’s child. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain, you just… shut me out.”

“I know,” he whispered, his own voice breaking as he knelt by the bed. “I know. I was wrong. I let my insecurities poison my mind, and I hurt you in ways I can never take back.” He reached out, but hesitated, unsure if she’d accept his touch.

Her silence was deafening. The weight of her heartbreak lingered in the air between them, thick and suffocating. Severus closed his eyes, unable to bear the sight of her pain any longer.

“I’ve spent most of my life in darkness,” he continued, his voice raw with emotion. “And you… you were the light that saved me from it. But I’ve never believed I deserved that light. I’ve always thought it would slip through my fingers eventually, like everything else I’ve cared about. When you told me you were pregnant, all I could think about was how I didn’t deserve it. How I didn’t deserve you.”

Y/n’s breath hitched, and she looked away, her hands trembling in her lap. She wasn’t ready to forgive him, not yet. But hearing him speak this way, hearing him admit his vulnerabilities—it chipped away at the wall of resentment that had built up over the past few days.

“I never cheated on you,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite the emotions roiling inside her. “I never even thought about it. I love you, Severus. I’ve always loved you. And I thought you knew that.”

Severus nodded, guilt tightening in his chest like a vice. “I know. I should’ve known.”

The silence between them stretched again, but this time it wasn’t quite as suffocating. It felt like the beginning of something fragile, something that could be mended if they were both willing to try.

“I don’t know if I can ever forget what you said,” Y/n admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “But… I want to try.”

Severus’s breath caught in his throat. His dark eyes, once cold and guarded, softened with relief. He reached out again, this time taking her hand in his. His touch was tentative, as though afraid she might pull away, but when she didn’t, a glimmer of hope flickered in his heart.

“I will spend the rest of my life trying to make this right,” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know how to be a father, Y/n. I don’t know how to love properly, or how to protect the people I care about without pushing them away. But I want to learn. I want to be better—for you, for our child.”

Y/n stared at him for a long moment, her heart torn between the pain he had caused and the love she still felt for him. Slowly, she brought his hand to her stomach, resting it gently against the small swell there.

“This is your child, Severus,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. “Our child.”

Severus’s breath hitched, and he closed his eyes as he felt the warmth beneath his hand, the life growing inside her. It was real. This was real. And he had almost destroyed it with his own insecurities.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, tears brimming in his eyes as he knelt before her. “I’m so sorry.”

For the first time in days, Y/n allowed herself to truly look at him—the man she loved, the man who had saved her in so many ways, but who was also deeply flawed and scarred by his past. She could see the pain in his eyes, the regret etched into every line of his face. And though her heart still ached, she knew that healing was possible.

With a shaky breath, she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his. “We’re going to be parents,” she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks.

Severus let out a ragged breath, and before he could stop them, tears of his own began to fall. He hadn’t cried in years—decades, even—but in that moment, the weight of everything he had almost lost, everything he had taken for granted, came crashing down on him.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “And I will never doubt you again. I swear it.”

Y/n wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close as they both cried—tears of relief, of sorrow, and of hope for the future that lay before them. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other’s arms, holding on to the fragile thread of their love.

And for the first time in days, Y/n felt a glimmer of peace. It wouldn’t be easy—there would be more arguments, more misunderstandings, and more moments of doubt. But they had each other, and now they had something more.

A family.

And that, Y/n realized, was enough.

The next morning, as the sunlight filtered through the windows, Y/n awoke to find Severus still beside her, his arms wrapped protectively around her. For the first time in days, she felt the tension in her chest loosen. The road ahead was uncertain, but together, they could face it.

And as Severus stirred beside her, his hand instinctively resting on her stomach, Y/n smiled softly to herself.

This was the beginning of something beautiful.

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