#she's elegantly gloomy in a way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pufflehuffing · 7 months

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Hungry Like The Wolf. - Professor!Sebastian Sallow X F!Student!Reader 🔞

pairing: Professor!Sebastian Sallow X F!Student!Reader (part 2 of this fic, but can be read by itself, the plot is minimal and explained here too) genre: smut, mdni (everyone is 18+) warnings: wordplay on animal costumes (not actual animal smut!) | underage drinking | teacher/student | fingering | eating out | unprotected fucking | breeding | cum eating summary: Weeks after the tryst in Professor Sallow’s office, Halloween rolled around. Surrounded by gloomy decorations and merrymaking, a wolf and his bunny find a way to continue their passionate love away from the festivities. word count: 10.2k A/N: The Halloween costumes were loosely inspired by this Alice In Wonderland art from @choccy-milky & @dansgiii, thank you for the inspo! I also blame @dvinaamesca for her pictures of Sebastian that make me crave this man like a starving woman. Every time I see one, all I can envision is professor Sallow! My masterlist.

Silhouettes danced around the candlelit Great Hall, making it look straight from hell itself. Pumpkins joyously peeked from every nook and the resident ghosts danced through the lights, casting eerie shadows throughout the castle's most elegantly furnished room. Costumed students and professors mingled about, the latter's nerves jangled with anticipation as if awaiting tricks rather than treats. Professor Sallow strode confidently towards a quiet corner, emitting an arrogant air, his gaze carefully keeping watch of the partying students. Meanwhile, in the corridor outside, staggered a lithe footstep; dragged almost, as if struggling towards the gathering. It was her. Her careful tread echoed, signalling her imminent arrival.

Professor Sallow’s brow perked up immediately at the sight of those familiar, innocent eyes walking in. His heart raced faster, thinking back of their encounter from a month ago, and he already cursed himself for not bringing his cloak with him to hide his imminent arousal. “Finally,” he thought. “There she is.” His eyes devoured every flawless inch from across the room, his gaze drinking in every pore that begged for his touch weeks ago and every cut from his duelling classes since then. Even clad in that revealing fur-lined baby blue dress with white bunny ears, she was breathtakingly beautiful. But, she didn't notice him yet, too fixated on searching for the familiar faces of her friends among the packed crowd.

The professor remained standing tall and imposing against the wall, his own costume fitting his presence perfectly. His tall frame was draped in a black shirt and slacks, accentuating his toned frame underneath. His hair was tousled wildly, giving an air of danger hidden beneath his composed façade while brown, conjured wolf ears peeked out from his curls. The irony was not lost on him amidst energetic laughter and festive chatter filling the hall. They were symbolic representations framed against such a backdrop; the hunter chasing the prey yet dominated by it simultaneously. He leaned against the wall, sipping from a glass of firewhisky nonchalantly, casually passing friendly words with fellow teachers and students that passed him. Unbeknownst to them all, his eyes never left her, the animalistic hunger in them growing more pronounced with each passing moment.

Her gaze landed upon her friends, her smile brightening momentarily. She laughed at a joke directed at her that fell on deaf ears for him. He watched, craving to devour this view of her happiness privately. Encased within their attire hung both their secret, delight and anxious longing for a private moment amidst the festivities. Regardless of the bunch gathered at this event, something deep inside him longed to peel the layers of her bunny suit off her sensuous form under dim lights' aid.

His eyes followed her as she joined her friends who appeared absolutely thrilled to see her. However, his heart twisted in anticipation; every laugh and joke shared became less enticing by the minute due to the own secret dialogue of attraction lingering between star-crossed costumed lovers. The wolf chased his rabbit across a sea of strangers, waiting for their moment away from prying eyes to resume their liberating cycle behind closed doors.

Approaching the small cluster of seventh-years, he cleared his throat, casual yet commanding as always. "Miss, may I borrow you away from your merrymaking?" His words held an underlying note of urgency that only those attuned to him would pick up. She turned reluctantly, flashing her sweet smile. "Of course, professor," she said politely, extracting herself gracefully from the group. "Good evening, girls," he said to the remaining group. "Thought I'd have a word with her before things get rowdier." The others giggled nervously, hearing the more sinister edge to his normally jovial tone. His wolf-ears flipped back happily as he turned to the delighted girl, her eyes sparkling with equal bewilderment and excitement.

"Cute bunny attire," he complimented, his hand subtly brushing past the fluffy ball on her behind as he moved her in front of him and led her through the crowd. She giggled nervously, her heart skipping a beat at this public display of affection. "Yes, quite a coincidence, isn't it?" She managed to choke out. "Where did the idea come from to be a wolf?" Her eyes searched his behind her curiously, but he seemed unaffected by the truth lingering beneath their costumes. His eyes wandered around them, then back to her bashfully playful face hidden partially behind her hair. "It only struck me last minute. Found it fitting too…" He trailed off in a husky whisper as he leaned down to her ear, a gesture that could be perceived as innocent due to the loud environment. His furry ears bounced like his heartbeat, expecting some thrill soon, more specifically: his ideal prey, all dressed up amidst holiday cheer.

When they were finally out of earshot from the crowd, the air around them crackled energetically in a corner of the Great Hall. His hand grazed her waist lightly— enough contact for now with this many witches and wizards close by. "Ever wary as a wolf, you see," his fingers waved in quotations. The levitating decorations above them teased at their desires hidden behind flimsy façades. A secret battle between their animalistic identities showcased through these outfits. "We both know we won't stay away from temptation tonight…" he concluded notably after taking another sip from his firewhisky.

She glanced at his drink, tilting her head slightly. "Is that alcoholic? It smells… strange." Her eyes were wide with curiosity mixed with anticipation. His gaze darkened ever so slightly as he lifted the glass out of her reach if she'd dare try to take a sip. "No, no, sweetheart, you're too young for that." Protectiveness flashed in those brown eyes that roamed over her child-like bunny costume thoughtfully before meeting her gaze again. She sighed, slightly disappointed but secretly appreciative of his concern. With a mischievous glint in her own eyes, she curiously asked him about the contents of his drink. Professor Sallow, ever the distinguished gentleman, chuckled cunningly at her curiosity. "Just firewhisky," he explained in hushed tones intended only for her ears' delight. "Something not appropriate for such tender lips," he leaned in again, a cocky aura oozing from him. As if governed by internal instincts, his wolf ears perked up subtly at the thought of starting something infinitely more exciting than just these whispers in the corner of the Great Hall.

"Firewhisky?" she asked innocently, a hint of curiosity colouring her voice. "What's that?"

Professor Sallow chuckled softly, amused by her childlike curiosity. "A grown-up drink," he explained playfully, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Not something for someone as young and innocent as you." He watched as she pouted prettily, her large eyes locking onto his in a silent plea for some resolution. "Getting you tipsy is the last thing I intend to do tonight,” he grinned teasingly, carelessly running his fingertips along the pillar beside her. "I can think of other plans for you though, dear." His wolf-ears seemed to flutter with excitement at the prospect and perhaps even a tinge of possessiveness.

Her eyes shifted from the ground up to meet his expectantly. Blushing, she hesitated slightly before responding softly, "I liked our last… meeting… in your office." There was a hint of nervousness in her tone as she spoke about their secret rendez-vous. The recollection of their deep kisses and subsequent pounding of his cock inside her had left an aura of guilt around them which neither could shake off entirely.

Hearing this unexpected confession, Professor Sallow's eyes sparkled with newfound confidence and mischief despite the faintest shadow of worry present behind them. He licked his lips thoughtfully in response during the courageous moment they shared, standing silently under the animated decorations above them. His eyes seemed to say "shame on you" and yet his fingers insisted on brushing gently past her fluffy bunny tail again, almost a silent applause to their naughty deeds.

"And here we are again," he whispered almost accusingly yet not without his interest being piqued. He sipped more firewhisky from his glass before slowly continuing. There was genuine concern behind his words as he looked down into her large, defiant eyes; still innocent yet newfound grown-up thoughts etched all over her face tonight. “We really shouldn't be doing this, sweetheart…" he trailed off, hinting at what lay ahead for them shortly. The wolf's ears twitched irresistibly from his imaginations of his bunny bouncing on his lap again.

"Yes…" she agreed hesitantly, her voice sounding defeated. She bit her bottom lip nervously, glancing around them cautiously before returning her attention to him. Tensions in the air thickened palpably as they stood there, waiting for whatever would happen next. Their bodies ached with desire for each other; the brushing of fingers and accidental contact heightening the anticipation. She winced slightly when he took another sip of firewhisky, knowing all too well how potent it could be, especially when combined with his state of heightened arousal. Her palms trembled at the sight of his strong, muscular arm; conveying both fascination and fear at what was unfolding between them. Despite knowing she shouldn't pursue this relationship further— or at all, for that matter— something inside her couldn't resist the pull of their forbidden connection.

"But, professor…" she managed to choke out, her voice barely audible above the background noise. She paused, steeling herself for whatever repercussions followed her actions, but also eagerly awaiting the release of their pent-up desires. Her breath hitched as she watched him casually take another gulp of his drink, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing, reminding her of his strong masculinity. "I can't help it," she confessed boldly yet with firm eyes, defiance painted in bold strokes on her angelic face. She knew what she was asking from him was risky and taboo, but tonight felt different under the shroud of Halloween blissfully brewing around them. Bringing down his hand from the pillar, she intertwined their fingers despite his protests or concerns. "I can't help what I feel." Another glimpse around confirmed no one was paying attention in this sea of costumed joyous souls; still, every sighted eye in their general direction felt like danger and judgement.

His gaze lingered on their interlocking fingers then trailed back to meet her brave, beguiling gaze, heart throbbing against his chest like a wild creature she had tamed part of. The firewhisky played tricks on him now; it seemed more like a burning invitation instead of dulling his senses as it should have been. "The chase was worth the prize,” didn't he always think? Now he could almost feel her lithe body beneath those fur-lined layers. "You should go back," he warned softly yet hungered for this daring display of affection even though they were on borrowed time. He tilted his head playfully at her boldness. "I do believe your friends would miss their bunny," he teased slightly, but lust coursed through his words marked by hunger glinting dangerously.

Her sparkling eyes conveyed a mixture of challenge and desire. "They wouldn't mind if she decided to hop into another burrow," she said playfully, letting go of his hand with a reluctant squeeze. With her gaze still locked on him, she sighed softly in pure resolution as she understood this conversation led nowhere professional. She wanted adventure, which was embodied purely by him. Acting as the backdrop to their hidden intentions, laughter echoed through the Great Hall, but it sounded distant amidst the intoxicating desire brewing between them. The wolf's heart thumped heavily within him, mirroring the bunny's, pulsing with nervous excitement.

Professor Sallow's eyes settled on her with a predatory gleam, unable to resist any longer as her boldness propelled them further into their forbidden territory. But even amidst the pulsing rapture, he couldn't ignore the unfortunate context of it all— a student daring her idolised professor and vice versa. "We really shouldn't," he mumbled aloud one last time like an oath, breaking her gaze while his hand still yearned to grab her elusive body again. He inhaled deeply to quell a sudden urge; no interruption seemed to appear tonight unless she let her impatience lead them into potential danger. His heart pounded against his chest like a wolf pacing in a cage, eager for release from self-imposed restraint yet appreciating her fearlessness before him under the ceilings hung with gory decorations. He knew where this could lead them both if caught, but dismissed every possibility except for continuing with their plans. "But we will," he smiled secretively, relief palpable under the phantom shadows cast by the candles floating randomly through the grand hall that night.

Her playful gaze seemed to flash a dare in his direction, causing his furred ears to twitch with anticipation. He couldn't help but notice the fervour dancing in her eyes as she slowly extended her hand towards his glass of firewhisky. He watched her with an intensity born out of their situation and quickening heartbeat. He decided to test her resolve, pulling it away again just before she could touch it. The resulting puppy-like pout gracing her face was breathtakingly delightful. "Patience, dear," he grinned mysteriously into her pouty stare, aroused by her audacity even more now than before. Despite everything that twirled around and within them, there was also an unspoken urge to protect her. After all, he was her teacher.

Beneath the veil of Halloween festivities, Professor Sallow's desires were invigorated by this unconventional game they were playing. The grey area between their teacher-student relationship had never felt so explicit or thrilling, even that faithful evening in his office wasn't this raunchy. His erection strained against his black trousers unapologetically but surprisingly found solace in her teases that were laced with challenges only girls her age could deliver.

Her gaze flickered between him and the elusive glass that was denied yet again, a clear challenge in the eyes staring at him. She huffed lightly, bringing forth a much younger and carefree side he didn't always see from his student. "Just a taste?" she pleaded playfully, her pout now tinged with alluring sincerity. "I haven't had anything stronger than pumpkin juice since…" her words died down into a whisper as if reminiscing distant childhood days. The wolf's small heart responded enthusiastically to her persistence; denying this could make her annoyed, and that was the last thing he wanted from his precious sweetheart. "You promise you can handle it?" He double-checked, concern lacing his voice. His hand hovered close enough before handing over the surprisingly heavy glass holding the amber liquid.

Reluctantly, she nodded her head and accepted the glass from him. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest as she lifted it to her lips, the spicy warmth of the drink burning a trail down her throat. It was unlike anything she had ever had before and despite her acquaintance with wine and ale back home, it left her reeling slightly. Her face flushed redder than usual and she coughed lightly, her chest heaving as she set the glass back in his hand forcefully. She struggled to catch her breath, her eyes watering ever so slightly. "It's… strong," she managed to choke out between gasps. Her eyes pleaded with him not to send her away yet and even through the foggy haze caused by the drink, she could sense his amusement at her discomfort.

Professor Sallow couldn't help but snicker at her misfortune, his hand brushing lightly over her elbow to steady her while her eyes darted around furtively for any signs of eavesdroppers before calming back down. The warm feeling pervading inside him was a perfect mix of concern and sheer amusement; an unusual cocktail for someone in his position, she had to admit. "Firewhisky isn't for the faint-hearted, my dear." His concerned whisper was laced with humour as she looked at him with watery eyes.

"I can understand why.” Her voice was tainted with the smoke and fire from the drink but her eyes twinkled mischievously, still challenging him surprisingly well. The brave girl dared further into unknown territories of seduction, her cheeks still blushing fiercely from the alcohol. "You haven't told me yet…” she breathed lightly, catching him off-guard since they'd taken care not to speak openly about their secret tryst here or anywhere else before. Her irresistible smile highlighted her genuine interest while also demanding an answer. Her boldness showed even when she was recovering from the strong drink he fed her a moment ago. "Did you enjoy it?" She asked directly, looking straight through his eyes whose depth she knew by now.

Professor Sallow's brown ears twitched noticeably at her daring question that echoed through the festivities around them. His heart pounded against his chest with a fierce anticipation of their passionate history intertwined under the disguises of Halloween music and decorations. He took another gulp of firewhisky, hiding his growing arousal from her gaze. His eyes bore into hers before answering slowly, each word wrought with restraint, "I won't lie about it; yes." Despite holding back, he could not deny it. It was adventurous, just like their conversation tonight enveloped by strange decorations. The wolf inside him trembled at the memory of the past evening he shared with such a bold enchantress disguised as a student.

His answer seemed to embolden her further as her eyes gleamed with triumph and lust. Despite the tension lingering in the air between them, their hearts synchronised like old lovers sharing secrets at last. With defiance etched into every contour of her face, she leaned closer towards him, flirting dangerously close to intimate territory. "Then perhaps, we should do it again?" Her soft murmur was burdened with fervent desire and now it appeared neither was willing or able to resist this mutual longing anymore, even amidst a crowd eager to celebrate their costumed night.

Professor Sallow's hand tightened around hers again, borrowing comfort from solid contact amidst the chaos surrounding them. His mind whirred with thoughts; he knew exactly where her proposal led but couldn't resist its temptation. "And what makes you think I won't say no?" He asked, feigning innocence despite his racing pulse and bulge in his pants.

"You wouldn't dare disappoint me tonight, would you?" She declared boldly, innocence leaving her features to reveal the fire inside her eyes. She pulled her hand away, standing mere inches away from his warmth, awaiting his answer. Her scent mixed with the faint hint of alcohol was uniquely intoxicating and despite knowing better, he found himself succumbing to her siren song.

Smirking playfully, the professor took another sip of his drink, letting the liquid burn in his throat before responding to her innocent yet provocative challenge. "My dear, I never refuse passionate requests from strikingly intelligent young women." His gaze held an unspoken promise she found both enticing and terrifying all at once. Noticing her visible excitement, he leaned closer, whispering into her ear. "Your performance in class has improved quite remarkably since our… private session together." His heavy breath brushed against her sensitive skin, causing a shiver to course through her body.

The air between them was thick with anticipation and daring intentions; her composure was a tightrope that was increasingly difficult to walk. Her eyes, punctuated by a thrill of excitement, met his smirking gaze as she nodded in agreement. "Then it's worth repeating," she declared arrogantly, her voice low yet steady with hidden bravado.

His glass trembled slightly, an unmistakable sign of tense expectancy or perhaps pure lust. He stole another glance around them, then looked back into her confident but vulnerable eyes. "This might just turn out to be your most memorable Halloween yet," he commented huskily, his wolf trapped inside yearning for liberation. The wolfish professor surveyed the commotion around them and whispered into her ear. "Meet me in the hallway outside, five minutes." It was a command couched in words of an intimate plan they were now committed to execute. Beneath the pulsating music and laughter, they dared their next extraordinary rendez-vous into reality and their unapologetic, unashamedly lustful hearts aligned under the ghosts waltzing through the air above them.

Accepting his command silently, she nodded in agreement before slowly releasing herself from his gaze. With a teasing smile playing at the corner of her mouth, she flitted back to her circle of friends, the bunny ears on her diadem bobbing up and down. Her voice was empty with feigned sickness as she explained to them with a faint smirk on her face. "I am feeling a bit unwell. I think it's best that I leave and head to bed early." Despite their questions she didn't linger for any negotiations about her leaving early from the party. Slipping through the crowded room faster than light amid the spooky decorations, she couldn't help but hum gleefully under breath. Her heart pounded at every beat of the music, faster than Devil's Snare slithering in darkness under this fascinating endeavour they embarked upon.

Professor Sallow discreetly watched his muse slip away from her friends amidst their questions; a hearty grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he prepared his own alibi. "Excuse me gentlemen, duty calls,” he murmured suavely amidst his colleagues before disappearing into the crowd with an air of calm resolution. His path led him to where he'd arranged their secret rendez-vous outside in one of the less-frequented hallways, heart racing like a trapped hare under his shirt just as much in anticipation as fear. When he arrived at said location, she stood framed against the dark corridor, an apparition straight out of a fairy tale. A playful smirk adorned her lips and although bathed in shadows, he could see the excitement shimmering in her eyes. She tapped her heel impatiently but kept looking around frequently to make sure no one was watching them.

Taking notice of her restlessness and cautiousness, the professor pressed himself against the wall facing her, his gaze drawing an invisible connection between them despite their distance. Despite the silence echoing through the deserted hallway, there was an electric energy passing between them that hummed louder than any cacophony around them. The game was set, players were ready, and now all it took was daring one step over the line. He let out an exhale softly, his accent thickening with desire. "You have no idea how hard you make me with that dress," he proclaimed boldly, for those words didn't hold regret or apology. Her beauty and bravery stole more than just his heartbeats tonight; it captured the very essence of his freedom and will.

The playful tension between them seemed to heighten further with every whispered word, their breaths misting heavily against the cold, stone walls. She licked her lips nervously before confessing honestly. "And… you make me just as… excited." Her admission hung heavy in air with its promise and danger veiled beneath layers of modesty. His eyes followed her gaze towards him, taking note of his growing erection apparent under his trousers. It was a ripe testament overhanging their imminent hookup dictated by the strong brew and daring whispers lost in the festivities earlier. "Is that so?" he breathed out into the silence. His wolf dared him to take the first step across that thin line emerging between them. "Do I?" His voice broke off into a deep growl, revealing his own state of mind, swaying between primal desire and caution.

Then suddenly, under the wall-mounted torches flickering eerily, he was there, his lips crashing onto hers forcefully. His tongue invaded her mouth aggressively, claiming his territory. His hand snaked up to cup her breast through the fabric of her dress, teasing and tweaking her sensitive nipple cruelly. Their tongues tangled passionately; his warmth radiating through their bodies, stinging her lips, but she eagerly reciprocated, matching his heated tempo. Suddenly, he pulled away quickly, his breathing heavy and his eyes glinting with approval.

The sudden forcefulness of their snog caught her off-guard but didn't deter her desire. With a pouty moan, she initiated another round, matching his hunger. The pleasure coursing through her veins was like liquid fire, burning away all remnants of hesitation or caution she still harboured. Their teeth clashed furiously, exchanging their collective moans and whimpers muffled by the pounding music coming from inside the Great Hall. Feeling emboldened, she grabbed ahold of his collar and yanked him closer to her like a suggestive chess move. "Take me," she declared breathlessly, her fingers trembling slightly as they dug into the black fabric. Lord knows how many times she had fantasised about this moment since that fateful night a month ago.

Sensing her desperation, something clicked inside Professor Sallow, ruling him rational once more. His inner lecturer surged through him, overruling the beast unleashed momentarily. "Not here, not like this," he muttered darkly, pulling away slightly but still keeping their bodies pressed against each other. Glancing around nervously, he grabbed her delicate wrist firmly without gentleness. "We need privacy."

Without waiting for her consent, he dragged her swiftly down an empty corridor lit by the glow of torches, pulling her along with the sheer force of his desire burning brightly within him. Despite his insistence on privacy, the thrill of being dragged away by such a powerful person instantly worked as an aphrodisiac for her nerves. Her heart pounded intensely against her chest but she didn't object or resist. Instead she followed him obediently with a lustful grin, stealing quick glances towards students partying heartily in the distance.

Not too long after, their hurried steps brought them to seclusion— Professor Swallow's personal quarters. The door closed softly behind them while the trees outside cast eerie shadows through the windows. She looked around curiously then back at him once they were alone together in his kingdom, away from onlookers or prying eyes. "What now?" Her voice revealed hints of anxiety alongside the hunger that never left her since their first intimate encounter. A simple question, yet his heart pounded harder against his chest from anticipation. Finally finding their sanctuary, every measure of control over him seemed to slip away.

His lips met hers forcefully again and his large hands wandered over her body. The texture of her dress brushed against him like soft velvet as a new scent enveloped them both; a mixture of desire and lingering alcohol. "This," he murmured against her lips brimming in moisture. His tongue wrestled with hers aggressively, an assertion of his dominance above anything else. He tugged the straps down her shoulders while taking his wand out of his pocket to rid himself of his furry ears before tossing it on his nightstand. They were no longer necessary, his inner wolf had already captured its bunny, and now it was time to feast.

The fur-lined costume fell to pool beneath her ankles; her skin glowed under the dim light embracing the room. Panting from their heated kisses and unexpected aggression of undressing, her hands explored his chest through his shirt while biting down her moans from excitement. "You look exquisite when you're wild," he whispered huskily. His words were an offering topped by his eager actions.

With deliberate intention, the professor led her towards his bed and laid her gently but firmly down on it. His eyes never lost sight of her body as it was exposed to his gaze, every curve and dip tantalising him almost to insanity. Slowly undoing buttons of his shirt and peeling it off, his muscular chest heaved with every panting breath, trying hard not to overpower the moment. He felt excited but steered clear of rushing this. This quivering and flushed girl was a still sight to behold even after a month of sneaking glances and notes during his lessons. His pupils dilated as he devoured her delectable body and with bold decisiveness, he crawled on top of her slowly, his belt pressing against her mound.

Their breaths were ragged as much from the anticipation as from the passionately tangled tongues and fingers searching each other's skin again. His belt brushed against her sensitive flesh and she gasped, her hands flexing on his hard shoulders. "You tease," she accused him in a breathy whisper, eyes heavy-lidded from arousal but passionately filled with lust. He chuckled huskily against her soft skin, kissing along her collarbone towards her breasts, his brows knotting with tension but conveying mischief rather than aggression. "Isn't that what professors do to students who perform exceptionally well?" He questioned sarcastically while they were in a position very contrary to a classroom.

The silence that fell between them after was filled with the sloppy sounds of Professor Sallow nipping at his student. For one brief moment he paused before breaking that fleeting calm, continuing further south against her secreting desires. Forwardly, his hand dipped into the lacey underwear she donned, groaning audibly at what he found. Her insides tensed with want; he was teasing her cruelly, making her yearn for him even more under his touch. "Yes," she whined, her voice cracking due to desire. "Oh god, yes!" She squirmed, her body moving involuntarily against his caresses and pecks. Her hips rose, begging for fulfilment.

With her knees quivering, she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking them tightly together to form a barrier around him. Her body arched against his touch, seeking more contact to alleviate the massive buildup of pleasure. "Sir, please," she begged, almost pleading. "Slowly, my dear sweetheart," he answered, his fingertips gliding across her sensitive point just before he struck gold, hitting the right spot that caused her legs to convulse and whimper pitifully, begging for mercy. His lips continued their descent downwards, trailing kisses along her belly button before reaching her wetness. He groaned hungrily at the sight of her aroused state through her damp panties, traces of his saliva composing a messy network around her exposed navel down to her waistband.

His warm breath fanned across her folds, teasingly brushing against her sensitive spot, sending shudders of need through her entire frame. His tongue dipped against her clothed folds, tracing along her entrance before circling her clitoris slowly, building anticipation even further. Her hands gripped his hair tightly, begging silently yet fervently for release, but he was in no hurry. He smiled against the damp lace appreciatively and lightly bit the waistband before murmuring: "It seems our dear student is already falling apart." His flirty banter only further fueled the fire of desire that raged within both of them.

Sliding off the barrier with his teeth, he inhaled sharply at the sight before him. Her fresh scent of arousal mixed with satisfaction wafted into his nostrils. He felt intoxicated yet clear-headed as his eyes locked with hers, a silent communication competing against her rhythmic panting and whimpers that echoed around them in the silence.

Finally spreading her folds apart, his lips descended onto her delicacy. Each swipe of his tongue aimed to tease every bit of ecstasy from her and her breath hitched dangerously hard. His fingers gripped onto her firm thighs firmly, perfect support for his desired task. Moving lower, he licked along her column filled with sweet nectar, letting out an appreciative sound of approval at such delightful sight laid before him; she was truly soaked beyond measure. Every movement he made, every lick and nip, threatened to overwhelm her. With her head thrashing against the pillow, she struggled to calm her wild desires as he continued his oral assault soothingly. His hands travelled and kneaded her rear impulsively, each contact delivering a spark of lust and pleasure onto her.

The professor tended to her like a rare flower, his tongue constantly roaming in figure eights on her petals while smacking his lips seductively as if savouring every second. Her hips bucked reflexively, begging for more as tiny pleas escaped from her. "Sir," she mumbled, her voice coming out shaky and weak due to desperation. "Please…" With no words he answered her pleads but continued his sweet torture around her passage. He worshipped this art piece blessed before him. Just as she tried to beg for respite or any form of satisfaction again, Professor Sallow slipped a skilled finger into her warm entrance. Slowly entering and withdrawing against the slippery walls of her sanctuary, each thrust seemed like a warning or a promise of what was to come next.

Her eyes bulged like a deer in headlights driving through a dark forest; the pleasure was immense and gripping enough to make her thighs shake and ankles tremble. The quiet room echoed with the sound of wet slapping noises, simultaneously stimulating and nerve-wracking for both parties. She cried out incoherent words, her hands gripping and curling into his brown curls. Her moans grew louder, an acoustic testimony to how close she was inching towards satisfaction against his tongue and steady finger plundering her.

He trusted her to handle more than one loose digit so he added another, rocking in tempo with the earlier one. Sucking harder on her clit made her writhe underneath him, offering another crucial sensation to pull her to the point of no return. Her chest heaved heavily against the plush covers; every gasp could have been a cry for mercy, but she didn't utter a word. The sensation of being filled by his fingers drove her wild. She bit down on her bottom lip so hard that it bled slightly but her moans became louder, her body contorting to his invading digits. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure surging through her, urging her closer to her orgasm. One hand still gripped his hair while the other slid over her chest, leaving trails of goosebumps behind while her nipples peaked from both pain and pleasure. She had never felt so exposed and invigorated before this devilish act.

His fingers danced rhythmically within her while sucking softly at her pearl until she was reduced to a panting mess. It was evident she was close, very close. Slower paced thrusts gave way to firmer ones as he signalled his intentions towards her climax, one she begged him for weeks covertly in his defence classes. The room around them seemed to disintegrate into oblivion; all that mattered was the synchronised movements of his lips and tongue on her sensitive areas, and the fingers expertly caressing her depths. Each thrust pushed against the walls of her passage, seeking every hidden corner that craved more attention.

Her body shook noticeably, becoming nearly immobile under the onslaught. Sweat trickled down her chest and between her heaving breasts, glistening in the dim light cast by the candles on the nightstand. Her eyes widened, pleading for relief but also marvelling at the skill displayed by her toned professor. The bruises and marks he left on her thighs grew slightly darker as he continued to assert his dominance without once breaking eye contact.

One more push triggered her orgasmic eruption and she screamed his title over and over, arching her back dramatically as her body tightly enveloped him. "Sir, yes, yes, prof—" Her cunt spasmed around his intruding fingers, milk-white juices coating his digits with each pulsing contraction. It was like watching a volcano erupting, the intense force of her climax shocking them both despite their preparedness. "Did you enjoy yourself, sweetheart?" he purred against her clit before teasingly licking up the trail of nectar spilling out from her well-fucked hole as he removed his fingers. Professor Sallow's chin sparkled with the pearlescent dew oozing from her, but he cleaned it off deliberately slowly with the back of his hand so as not to stir her sensibilities. With satisfaction glowing on his face, he removed his other hand from her rear and relished the sight of her waning down after her orgasm.

"I believe I did," she gasped out, panting heavily and trying hard to catch her breath. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with each inhale, a modest blush bloomed on her cheeks as her hands moved to pull him up; having him hover above her. "And I also believe, sir, you enjoyed it too."

He chuckled with a low voice, flipping his wet digits and stroking them against her bottom lip. "I can hardly refuse when it's this pleasurable, my dear." His pupils were dark, reflecting the hunger seething beneath his composed exterior. Her gaze didn't shy away from his lusty stare. Instead, it matched his, acknowledging the mutual desire they both felt. The unfinished business was obvious when he still sported an impressive bulge under his trousers. "Now what about you, sir?" she asked sultrily, testing the waters of dominance he projected onto her with a coy smile. "Are you satisfied, or would you prefer more?"

Her confidence pleasantly surprised him. It still amazed him how quickly she adapted to his world of sensuality despite her innocence. He showed approval through a smirk and answered. "Oh, I prefer more, sweetheart." He desired to find satisfaction of his own. While she managed to reach her climax early, he was still left in anticipation. He shifted himself gently above her, running the back of his pruney, wet fingers along her jaw and brought their lips together once more, tasting iron on her bottom one. The kiss bore fiery desires, paired with an urge for reciprocation. He startled her again with a sudden pinch at her nipple, enough to make her yelp but not hurt. The gasp and sting triggered another escalation of feelings within both of them. "I've missed my girls," he mumbled against her swollen lips, circling her nub with his thumb before releasing it slowly. "I've been thinking of them for weeks."

The pinch on her nipple electrocuted her senses making her squeak in surprise but also react instantly. Sucking on his lip to ease the sudden contact, she squirmed underneath him, her body aching for more. His words melted away any lingering doubts she might have harboured about him wanting her again after a painfully long month. His statement made her heart stop mid-beat for a moment. Look at them now, they were no longer teacher and student but two explorers locked in an experiment gone right— how life's strange pathways led two wounded souls to find solace in each other's arms. "Just you and me?" Her voice quivered with disbelief, wonder, and hunger.

Her honeyed words fueled his thoughts further, and without warning, he lifted his torso off hers, giving him perfect access to her wet folds again. "Always just us," he confirmed, rubbing his clothed crotch against her entrance, letting her feel its heat and jutting length. "And now," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I intend to reenact our fondest memory…"

She watched him pop the buttons of his trousers one by one, each movement a soft caress against his firm tummy. When he finally tugged down the offending fabric to reveal himself standing at full attention, she gasped anew. Her eyes widened in delight at the sight of him, larger than she remembered. The details of his veins were visible, they pulsed with every beat of his heartbeat. Her gaze lingered longer than allotted as he shifted close enough to seat his tip against her sopping entrance. A faint whimper escaped her lips, equal parts eagerness and apprehension. Her nails bit into the soft flesh of her tits. There was no turning back now.

He leaned in again, his lips brushing hers gently, offering reassurance. "Let's go back in time," he coaxed, teasing her sweat-soaked skin with feathery kisses between her throat and collarbone. His words were like time-travelling magic, instantly transporting them into a world where rules and societal boundaries had been gently breached, replaced by raw emotion and magnetism. He secured her legs around his waist before slowly guiding himself deep into her heat, inch by inch. Both gasped concurrently, the familiar sensation of connection overwhelming them both. Her walls hugged him tightly, every ridge settling him deeper, welcoming him and making him groan against her damp skin. He nipped at her neck, finding a delicious spot he knew she savoured.

"Oh, gods," she cried out unabashedly, her nails gripping into his shoulders at the fullness pressing against her core. Their eyes locked upon re-entry as if sharing a secret language only they understood; it was feverish yet possessive. Yet, he didn’t thrust, not right away. Instead, he overstuffed her, breath by breath until the room buzzed with anticipation. His gaze fell toward the veined shaft filling her pussy, a minor shake wobbled the powerful rod within her. He felt victorious. Loved. "Absolutely divine," he praised softly against the nape of her neck, "You fit me perfectly, dear." Each undulation in her cunt beneath him hinted at the pleasure he derived from her.

Then, he began thrusting rhythmically, pulling out almost completely before crashing back into her until their bodies slapped together vulgarly. Her whimpers were like music to his ears while further stroking his desire wilder. "Tighter than I remember, even," he grunted, holding back the scream that threatened with each stroke, "And wetter than—" She interrupted his words by guiding his mouth to her breast, urging him to immerse himself on her unattended nipple. Instantly his hungry mouth latched onto it making her yelp and tug him closer. As his sweetheart's tunnel clamped around him, he shivered at its caress and toured her breast lovingly although she squirmed enticingly below him. It drove him to thrust faster, needing release after weeks spent fantasising about this moment.

His words and actions set a frenzied pace within her, her grip on him tightening until fingernails dug into his scalp. A sense of power surged inside her, both stimulating and terrifying her. He was hers now and she was his. She cried out, her voice hoarse from passion, asking her question that hung on the edge of her mind. "Why me?" she wondered aloud, her fingers tangling in his hair, directing him where needed.

As he replied, he increased his tempo, harder than before, reaching towards a blissful eruption, his voice hoarse too and filled with raw need. "Because you were special, different from the others, always asking questions, looking for answers beyond the classroom walls." He hastened his pace, plunging deeper, pushing against the walls of her womb. "And when we first shared that rainy night, I saw glimmers of the woman you'd grow into: intelligent, loyal, sensual. You showed me sides of yourself no other student ever dared. I wanted you then," he admitted between heavy gasps, each word punctuated by the wet slaps of their joining. "Just like this." With their bodies locked, her eyes bore into his, half-closed under the pleasurable wave. Suddenly, she wasn't just a student or casual lover, but his equal, sharing her secrets and souls under the forbidden circumstances.

This revelation lashed the flames of desire within her, igniting new maturity in her eyes. "And I wanted you too," she confessed, moaning louder than ever. Her body quaked as he relentlessly ravished her, delving deeper, faster. His speed and strength paired with newfound vulnerability, exposed far beyond his usual facade, helplessly awakened something primal in her— she wrapped her legs around his waist tighter, meeting each forceful thrust with equal fervour. Her walls contracted around him, milking him, something both foreign and familiar. There was a level of synchronisation developing between them that surpassed mere physical desire. It felt like destiny. "So then why did we wait so long?" she panted breathlessly, teeth clenched in ecstasy. "Why not…?"

The moment suspended in mid-air, heavy with unspoken confessions and built tension. It felt both surreal and somehow… fated. His gaze clouded over, raw love painting his face as he pulled out slowly, just an inch away from plunging back in. He hesitated for the merest moment before confessing truths unshared from their pasts. He didn't need sex. He desired her, as a mere man desired his beautiful belle. "Stupid rules," he rasped out, pursing his lips into a thin line, and thrusting into her once again. "I was torn, scared, and considered my position before you." He glanced deep into her wide eyes, searching for forgiveness or acceptance. "I never thought you'd be this good. You're too good for me." A second later he slammed into her with renewed ferocity, burying himself fully as if trying to merge with her entirely. The sight of her honeyed gaze mesmerised him, she was begging eagerly for his love.

The admission left them both breathless; words spoken between breathy pants, sweaty and tangled together. Their eyes reflected an intensity that transcended simple lust or need. There was raw vulnerability and underlying passion glistening in their gaze which could only explain why they waited so long. But now here they were, making up for lost time.

"Don't say that," she gritted out, her nails scratching against his broad back. Another orgasm ticked closer like a time bomb waiting to explode, ready to obliterate all inhibitions. Despite the intensity coursing through her veins, her mind stayed sharp enough to register his confession. He grunted instantly, eyes met with hers blazing with equal passion. She felt him trembling and shuddering atop her as she pulled him even closer into a passionate embrace. "I never should've waited," she whispered fiercely, hands kneading his muscles.

Every sinew seemed to strain within him, every nerve firing each time they smacked together. "Maybe not," he agreed with a harsh laugh, sweat pearling all over his body under the orange candlelight. Even amidst the chaos, a small smile graced his face. It seemed no matter what happened between them now or later on, they'd share this secret delight together. The mounting pressure nearly exploded under his grip. She was about to crumble beneath him again, yet grasping onto his shoulders strongly, coaxing one more thrust after another. Overwhelmed by their shared passion, he let go completely, surrendering to the primal need that had been simmering within him. His hips rocked faster, harder than ever, filling her up completely and hitting her G-spot repeatedly. A particularly powerful thud caused her to arch her back further into his hold. She whined, her walls clenching around him tightly, hugging him vigorously.

As if sensing her approaching release, he slowed down momentarily, allowing their bodies to sync together perfectly. "Good girl," he groaned, little moans escaping his throat. "You are so fucking good." He loved the way she responded to him, surrendering all control; it fueled him further to push her over the edge. Pulling out abruptly, his cockhead glossed with her juices slid smoothly down her wet entrance before sliding back again. Her wetness coated him generously, inviting him deeper than before. "Please professor…" she pleaded, her voice trembling with desire, need, and perhaps even a hint of vulnerability. "I—" Her moan turned into a high-pitched squeal when he forcefully plunged fully inside her once more.

The sound resonated in his ears, hitting him like a thunderbolt. "No more Professor Sallow," he growled, claiming rightful ownership over her. "It's just Sebastian," he rasped out between heavy breaths. He pounded into her harder than ever, his member almost at its bursting point as he claimed his place within her cunt. The words seeped into her skin as his thrusts turned violent and unhinged. She was so close to climaxing, his sweaty scent and texture of his brown curls on her neck combining intensely with every wild hump. As her orgasm surged closer, Sebastian became her only concern, her saviour amidst this passionate storm. His name, unpolished and raw, came out in a hoarse moan. She could feel him losing control inside her, the pulse of his cock racing against her own heart.

With "Sebastian" replacing "professor," a higher plane of intimacy unfolded. For them both, it wasn't just about climax or release. It was about connection and loving freely without boundaries or judgement. Their eyes locked while their longing healed under moans and passionate whimpers of pleasure. "Sebastian!" She repeated, her voice ragged yet brassy. Every single syllable stirred him completely to his core, almost making him come on the spot. Each gasping breath seemed charged with meaning. Tomorrow they'd have to separate, return to their professor and student roles. But tonight? Tonight they were just him and her, unbridled and bound together.

In sync with her calls of his name, he seized her lips brutally. His kiss was desperate and fierce under mounting passion, echoing his craving for her cunt. "Take me," he panted against her lips, dousing her face with his own desperate sweat.

"Yes…" The single syllable hung between them like a gasping prayer. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, every muscle screaming at him to reach their shared climax soon.

Locked heart-to-heart and soul-to-soul, he banged into her senselessly under heated breaths. "I'm coming soon," he promised, fangs gently nipping at his bottom lip to punctuate the claim. Unable to hold back, all boundaries shattered under their urgency. He pounded even harder now, accelerating through her liquid core until there was nothing left untouched. Fire burned within his veins as she cried out "Seba-se-basti-an!" over and over. In that moment of pure surrender, forgotten boundaries felt like chains falling away. Love was free, love was his bunny burrowed beneath him. "Darling," he whispered raspingly against her lips, biting down gently where he could. "I'm close, don't make me stop," he instructed with an urgency under forgiveness; her surrendering essence would carry him through. In perfect unison, their bodies moved– hers throbbing around him, his spearing her wildly. Her cunt milked him rhythmically, fully aware of his impending release. From somewhere deep within, the memory of Halloween cloaked reality, intertwining with their present shared sinful act. She was fearless under him, a bunny blooming under her wolf's intimate embrace.

As his peak heightened, Sebastian's lips pressed into her neck. "Fucking perfect," came out hoarsely from him. His cock convulsed each time he thrust deeply, feeling rapture underpinned with passion heating his skin. "You feel so good," she gasped under searing pleasure. Her nails dug into his back harder, urging him towards completion. He revelled in her touch, her sweet walls gripping his erection— a throbbing cock quivering on the brink. "Love coming inside you," he confessed. There was no looking back now, they had arrived at the end of their forbidden adventure. "Claiming you where I belong." Every word had a hint of promises being fulfilled, consequences ignored, and exhilaration shrouding them in gold. Gripping her tighter with raw power that stirred the bedsheets, he drove into her with unmatched velocity and stamina until finding firm purchase within her depths.

Just as expected, Sebastian reacted to each of her passionate begs with a primal moan of pure bliss. His hips bucked violently, thrusting faster than thunderous drums reverberating through her core. A massive wave crashed over them both, transforming every fibre of their beings into a sprawled mess. Pulses raced throughout his member, heightening her own orgasm. His cock erupted, distributing thick, hot seed inside her womb, milking out everything he had reserved for her. In a daze, he fell on top of her, panting raggedly. Taking this momentary break, she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, savouring the feeling of their combined sweat and climax. He shifted his weight, moving slightly to rest his head on her chest, their rhythmic panting synchronising while he kept his cum wedged inside. "Prof— Sebastian," she panted between ragged breaths, her voice still husky with lust. The drums of their pounding hearts beat heavily in sync, pulsing within her ears.

Gently, Sebastian raised enough to look into her blurry, contented eyes. "Thank Merlin for Nurse Blainey," he chuckled softly against her breastbone. His ragged panting slowed but did not fully cease. Her response came in a breathy laugh, pure exhaustion mingling with bliss. "I'm glad she taught me contraceptive potions," she whispered back after a moment. With deep brown eyes holding on to her gaze, Sebastian kissed her softly. A shaky hand balanced his weight as he repeatedly kissed her temple, forehead, and finally her closed eyelids.

With a huff, he slowly withdrew from her cunt. As he slid out, her fluid along with his arousal seeped into the sheets beneath them. Staring at that mess between her thighs, he felt an odd sense of pride— the mark of his lovemaking, his passion for her seeping into every crevice; it was raw, tangible proof of a love beyond societal boundaries. "So pretty," he breathed out and let out a small chuckle before lifting his gaze back to her face painted with both contentment and embarrassment. "What did I tell you?" he asked teasingly, giving her a smile showing promise and warmth all around its edges.

Her pink lips parted, an embarrassed flush spread across her neck as she realised what he meant by 'so pretty.' But before she could comment further, his husky voice continued its flow. "You're so tight, so hot…so wet, even after I've been inside you." He trailed his thumb through their shared mess between her folds, her wetness glistening under candlelight. His words were soft yet a mischievous grin appeared between slow blinks. "I'd do it all again right now if I could," he sighed passionately, tracing loose circles on her flesh.

Unexpectedly, she shyly brought up his hand to her face, rubbing their shared mess between her lips thoughtfully before delicately tasting it on her tongue. The boldness was sudden and powerful, astonishing even him entirely. She blinked when he watched her do this, uncertainty replacing her boldness momentarily. Watching her confidence bubble up again before him took his breath away. Panting heavily from lust but still alert, Sebastian's eyes widened upon seeing her daring actions. Her tongue touched his calloused finger and he couldn't help but be mesmerised at seeing her savour him so shamelessly. "Gods help me," he whispered beneath exhales of satisfaction. The sight burned into his memory with a slow nod of admiration blossoming into his features. “You're worth the heartbreak.”

Seeing her boldness emboldened him even further. Taking advantage of her vulnerability from their passionate encounter, he leaned forward with determination. His large fingers held her chin gently while he planted small, wet kisses along her jawline and her neck, savouring every curve while he still could. Leaning closer, his heart pounded deafeningly against her soft skin. It was a bold action, but his tone wasn't shocking or forceful. Instead, it was punctuated with tender protectiveness. As she sucked on his finger, he whispered. "Tell me, love, how does that taste?" His voice was loving and nurturing as he admired his beauty squirming like a well-fed cat in his bed.

Her lips broke free from his thumb long enough to give a soft, seductive moan before she repositioned her tongue expertly around the digit again. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his finger inside her mouth. "Hmmm… Salty followed by a hint of sweetness. Like the ocean or rain." Her response surprised him. She sounded so… knowledgeable and mature. Hand still holding her chin lightly, he removed his finger. Sebastian groaned lowly, attracting her attention to shift back to him. "My turn now," he murmured against her, skimming his lips along hers. Holding her gently, he pulled her closer and locked lips with her passionately. As desired warmth flourished within this intimate encounter, Sebastian skillfully switched positions with her, reminding her of his physical strength. She laid down on him now, still leaking from their lovemaking, oozing love on his thigh.

"You're incredible," he panted against her forehead. His hands moved along delicate curves of her body until resting on her sides while he held onto her intently. As much as he wished not to let go, they had already been here for some time since leaving the Halloween festivities. "When do you have classes tomorrow?" He asked softly, showing the disappointment lurking around his words. The world outside and their schedules weren't so forgiving even after all that had happened tonight.

A sigh escaped her lips but it didn't lessen her smile for him. "Late tomorrow morning," she admitted reluctantly after taking in what he asked. Spooning against her lover, she delicately traced his collarbone while her eyes spoke volumes. She desperately didn't want to leave but time and reality came calling. He sensed the unspoken motive behind her words. "I… can't stay here tonight. I told my friends I was ill and staying in my dorm," she added softly.

Sebastian exhaled deeply, confirming her confession silently. Gently trailing his fingers down the curve of her backside and back up again, he let out a sigh of content mingled with disappointment. She was radiating warmth in more ways than one— for example, the fact that she lied to others so she could give him company. "Understandable," he said gently, yet felt a sting in his heart. He watched her eyes glimmer with suppressed emotion but her love shone through nonetheless. "Just… Please promise me one thing." She tilted her head slightly, giving him a curious expression, meeting his honeyed gaze unwaveringly.

"You're mine now," he whispered hoarsely, his usually stoic exterior briefly dissolving into raw vulnerability. "If there's anything troubling you, you tell me first, all right? You belong to me and I'm yours." His words carried new depth, practically radiating the weight behind them. In response, she leaned in closer, their faces barely an inch apart, their breaths mingling. Looking deep into his eyes, filled with sincerity and love, she nodded. "I promise, Sebastian.”

Sebastian slowly nodded against her smooth skin while still absorbing those final words from the memorable night. Swallowing hard, no mention of yearning or goodbyes passed between them. Decisively planting another soft kiss on her lips, he pledged again without any reservation. "I'll make sure to check on you during breakfast tomorrow." His gaze softened into a hidden promise, one she completely understood despite its subtlety. "We'll find ways… of reconnecting throughout every day," he whispered tenderly against her forehead. It was their private pact— love through duty and secrecy.

They rose from the bed, Sebastian helping her stand by holding her hand. He felt remarkably empty yet full at the same time, as if only half of him will stay in his quarters tonight. "I need you in that costume again," he chuckled gently but with intention. Always, after intimate passion, his professional side arose quickly, reminding him of the need for secrecy. He began assisting her dress up back into it, tugging it in place carefully, standing right behind her at every step. "Just a little more," he reached up cautiously with a crooked smile onto her face. "Can't forget your bunny ears." Her eyes admired him, a mix between gratitude and love visible while he placed her diadem on her head. Watching these final touches, she smiled at him. Their lovemaking was far from his teachings, but still just as caring and nurturing. Draping a delicate, protective arm around her shoulder, Sebastian guided her to his door. He softly opened it to reveal the safe corridor ahead of them. He gazed into her eyes down to her small smile before whispering. "Until tomorrow, sleep well." The twinkle in his eyes signalled their love still hadn't ended. Softly nudging her out first, he gave her permission to leave. “Don't forget your textbook.” With every beat that echoed through Hogwarts’ corridors beneath the crisp autumn's moon, their love grew stronger even if one had to leave behind.

With a tender hug goodbye, she stepped out, leaving behind the safety of his arms. As she disappeared down the corridor in her bunny costume, their hearts felt heavy yet content, basking in the confessions that were spilled in his sheets. The door softly shut behind him, leaving a deep silence. Sebastian let out a deep breath and leaned against the door frame. Her intoxicating scent lingered around and despite him knowing it was fleeting, he held onto it tightly, waiting for the last remnants to fade away. Gathering his composure under heavy darkness, he started getting ready to sleep alone.

In the student dormitories, her door closed firmly behind her innocently bobbing tail. Quiet footsteps echoed softly along the polished wooden floors until her bed welcomed her with a small sigh of relief. Stripping off her costume quickly, she crawled under the covers with heavy eyelids. With the scent of their shared intimacy still fresh and the warmth of Sebastian's cum nested inside her, all she could do was think about their stolen moment together.

On the other hand, Sebastian's night was lonesome but full of love and pride. The imprint of her body on his mattress brought clarity and peace, reminding him of the love that bloomed amongst the heavy panting and squelching of her body. He slept soundly, but not before whispering under his breath, "I'll find a way, my love.”

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #bark bark #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy smut

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goatcheesecak3 · 9 months

Text

Bus stop pt 2

Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x F!reader

Click here for M!reader version!

Click here for part 1!

Includes: fluff, slight angst, brief mentions of violence

Summary: after meeting at the bus stop yesterday, you and Adam go on a day out together, but when he sees a disturbing article in a newspaper, Adam decides to come clean to you about his past.

Adam threw on the cleanest clothes he owned and sat at the edge of his bed. He pulled out his phone and reread his text exchange with the nice girl from the bus stop for the thousandth time.

Y/n: this is y/n from the bus stop :) was so lovely to meet you! You doing anything tomorrow? x

Adam: not much, I was gonna hit the record store and maybe go feed the birds in the park. Wanna join me?

Y/n: sounds great! It's sweet that you like feeding the birds, I used to do that with my parents when I was a kid

Adam: haha yeah, I love animals. More than people tbh. I always feed the stray cats in my area, they're so cute

Y/n: wow, that's so kind :) I wish there were more people like you in the world haha! What time should we meet?

Adam: haha thanks :) is 2 good with you? At the stop we got off at yesterday

Y/n: two sounds perfect, see you then!

It was 1:40, he had 20 minutes to get to the bus stop to meet with y/n. He was excited, for once in his life, mooning over her kind words and positive attitude. Adam was most definitely attracted to this girl, but he tried not to think about that, he didn't want to get too ahead of himself, he needed to actually make a friend before he started thinking about a relationship. Despite this, however, he couldn't help but feel almost giddy at the thought of her smile.

He waited patiently at the bus stop where the pair had gone their separate ways the night before, with his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. The weather was gloomy and a chill was in the air, but it did little to bring down his mood.

After only a few minutes of waiting, y/n appeared from down the road, and she merrily made her way over to Adam. Adam watched in genuine awe at how sweet she looked, bundled up in a sweater and a tatty scarf, looking elegantly dishevelled and so incredibly cute. He felt a blush creep it's way onto his milky white face, and he prayed she couldn't read his mind and see what he'd been thinking of her- that's if his pink face didn't betray him first.

"Good afternoon! I like your jacket" y/n smiled, her face practically shining.

Adam looked down at his own attire, he wore a plain black tshirt, a pair of ill fitting worn out blue jeans and an army green jacket. His clothes were by no means weather appropriate, but hypothermia was something he was willing to risk if it meant he would look presentable.

"Heh, thanks. I've had it since I was a teenager"

Just at that moment, the bus pulled up and the pair entered and took their seats.

The windows on the bus were all fogged up, and the seats were cold to the touch. Adam let out a small shiver as he sat down, beginning to regret his decision to opt for fashion over functionality. It would appear that y/n noticed this, and without hesitation, she pulled her scarf up and wrapped it over his shoulder, so that they were both wearing it.

Adam was slightly taken aback by this small act of kindness,

"Wh- what are y-" he spluttered

"Please," y/n chuckled, "you were making me cold just looking at you."

Adam turned to look at her, a shy (and very smitten) smile on his face,

"Thanks".

The seats were small and cramped, so their knees touched, and Adam swore he could taste his own pulse when their hands brushed against eachother. Did she do that on purpose? Was that how girls flirted nowadays? No, surely he wouldn't be so lucky. When they approached their stop, Adam pressed the button to alert the driver, and began to lift the scarf off of himself so that he could stand, when y/n stopped him. She took the scarf off her own neck and adjusted it around his.

"Keep it on, I don't want you to freeze to death" she joked with a warm, nurturing glow.

Adam felt a calming, protected feeling. Y/n seemed to want to take care of him, and he felt as though he didn't have to be stoic and brave with her. He relaxed into the warmth of the scarf, savouring her scent as the pair of them stepped off the bus.

"Just down this street," Adam directed, leading them to his favourite record shop. Y/n followed eagerly, gripping onto Adam's sleeve to keep up with him.

"I can't wait, I used to love record shops in my home town" y/n remarked gleefully.

Adam couldn't help but let himself take a moment to fantasise about a future with y/n. He barely knew her, yes, but good god imagine if he got to know her better? He thought about long evenings spent listening to music with her, watching old movies together, holding eachother close under a blanket. He knew it was unrealistic, but can't a man dream?

They entered the record shop and began to browse.

"Wow, look at this!" Y/n gasped, "there's all the prodigy albums on vinyl!"

Adam approached to look at the rack she was observing, and to his very pleasant surprise, y/n had been browsing the alternative and punk section of the store.

"I've got most of these records at home," he said, "if you want, you can come over and listen to them at my place"

Y/n nodded enthusiastically

"Oh I will most definitely be taking you up on that. Don't songs just sound so much better on a record player?" She beamed.

Adam couldn't quite belive what he was hearing. A beautiful girl, with the same interests as him wanted to come to his apartment to listen to music? Surely he was dreaming, this sort of thing only happened in cheesy movies, not in real life.

Much like waking up from a dream, Adam was bitterly snapped back to reality later on in the day when the pair arrived at the park. Just at the entrance stood a little news stand, advertising the latest issue of the local paper. On the front page, in big bold letters read: "JIGSAW KILLER RETURNS, POLICE HOSTAGE"

"What the hell is the jigsaw killer?" Y/n asked, sounding rightfully horrified.

She turned to look at Adam, who's face had turned stark white. His mouth hung open and his eyes were practically bulging out of his head.

"Adam?"

Adam had already turned away and began hastily walking through the park. Y/n followed worriedly, jogging a little to catch up to him.

"Adam, what's wrong?"

Adam wanted nothing more than to tell y/n exactly what was wrong. He was sure that if anyone knew how to comfort him, it would be her, she was so lovely, of course she'd be able to. But he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth, she was such a radiant and beautiful person, he didn't want to risk freaking her out and ruining this friendship. His racing mind was halted when y/n spoke once again.

"Come sit down, Adam. You look like you could use it" she said, sitting down on a bench and patting the spot next to her.

"You don't have to tell me what's bothering you, but you do have to tell me how I can help you" she said.

Adam couldn't believe his ears, it seemed as though y/n just knew exactly what he needed to hear in that moment. She was so kind, so attentive, so perfect. So unlike anyone else Adam had ever encountered. Her kindness struck a chord within him that he didn't know he had, and seemingly unprompted, tears began to well in his eyes.

"Oh, honey!" Y/n gasped, "Don't cry, sweetheart, come here, it's okay" she cooed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and rubbing his arm.

"I'm sorry, I'm being stupid" Adam choked as he cleared his throat, trying his best not to cry.

"You're not being stupid, don't say that! Just take a few deep breaths, alright?" Y/n said, still smiling, ever smiling. How did she do that?

Adam breathed slowly, attempting to steady his shaking hands. He knew he'd have to tell her about what he'd been through at some point, but he wished he could have gone just a little longer without having to. Just a little longer to be Adam, the animal loving, record playing, charmingly moody guy from the bus stop. He didn't want to have to go back to being Adam, the paid stalker, the jigsaw victim, the self defence murderer. But as they say, all good things must come to an end.

Letting out a deep breath, Adam began to speak.

"I need to tell you something, and I understand if you don't wanna be friends anymore once I've told you"

Y/n's brow furrowed, but she didn't seem afraid.

"I was um.. a victim of that jigsaw guy, the one from the newspaper"

"What?" Y/n said in disbelief.

"He kidnapped me and chained me up in this room with this doctor, said that if we wanted to escape we had to saw our own feet off. A whole bunch of other shit went down, this guy came in the room with a gun and tried to kill me and the other guy, so I had to.." he trailed off and pursed his lips, "anyways, the doctor, he sawed off his foot and got out. I was too fucking scared and I'd already been shot by that point, so I just waited for him to get help. But the asshole never came back. I was in there for a couple days until the cops found me. Doctors say that if I'd been left just a few hours longer I'd be dead now."

Adam's face was expressionless as he started straight ahead at something that wasn't there. His fingers tangled themselves around the ends of the scarf he wore in an absent minded attempt to soothe himself. He could have swore that his heart stopped, the birds ceased their calls, the wind stilled and the world stopped turning for the painstakingly long few seconds he waited for y/n's reaction. He braced himself for the goodbye.

"Wow." She said softly, "you know, I think most people would let something like that turn them into a not so good person. It speaks volumes about your character that you're still so..."

Adam turned to look at her. She was smiling.

"... great" she said.

The look on her face was one that Adam had never seen before. It wasn't one of pity, not even a hint of disgust, just pure, unadulterated kindness. Adam thought she might very have been an angel in that moment.

"So... you still want to be friends?" He asked, feeling slightly more confident.

Y/n pulled him towards her by the scarf and looked him dead in the eyes.

"Adam, I want nothing more than to be your friend"

Adam felt himself smile, only slightly in relief, mostly just in pure ecstasy. Things were finally starting to go right for him.

A/n Hello! Thank you to those who said they wanted a part 2 to this! Comment if you wanna be tagged when part 3 is up :^)

Replies and reblogs are very much appreciated! I thrive on your validation lmao

Requests are open! Check my pinned post for details and masterlist! <3

#adam faulkner x reader #adam faulkner stanheight #adam saw #saw adam #adam faulkner #adam stanheight #leigh whannell #adam stanheight x reader #adam faulkner stanheight x reader #saw 2004 #saw #sawposting #saw fanfic #x female reader #x fem!reader #x you #x reader #fluff #x f!reader

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sirserpentine · 6 months

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Starter for @radiiosugars Elizabeth. (Verse: You're The Light After Our Storm.)

Rosie had acted cheekily, in her own Rosie way, and all Pentious knew was that there was going to be some kind of big surprise waiting for him in Cannibal Town's central park. Wait by that bench, he had been told, but upon inquiry no further details were given. Pentious was half expecting a prank to rain over the particularly lovely day, but the first quarter of an hour passed with nothing out of the ordinary. Just the same old cannibals on their (gruesome) picnics, the Victorian and Edwardian families enjoying the breeze, flying kites and reading under the shades of the gloomy trees. It allowed Sir Pentious to relax on the bench and, eventually, grow bored.

When his tail started to fall asleep, he decided to stand up and give his drowsy body a slight stretch. He could stay in this park and on this bench for a moment longer, he thought whilst shaking the drowse off his arms, but not all day. Whatever 'surprise' Rosie was planning had better be good, or-

"O-oh, good tidings to you, my Lady," he suddenly said, tipping his hat to an elegantly dressed Sinner whose path his stretches had likely disturbed. She was a fanged demon he had never seen before, but he recognised the fashion of her dress immediately. She must've been from the exact same decades as himself! Pentious immediately stepped aside the lovely woman's way and gave her a slight bow. "How terribly thoughtlesss of me, to park myself here like a carriage. A wonderful weather for a stroll, eh?"

#ic #(Elizabeth.)#radiiosugars #V. You're The Light After Our Storm. (radiiosugars)

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m3lonpire · 3 months

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It's Always Gloomy In Gotham | Episode 1

Harley sat bouncing a ball against the wall opposite her bed in her cell. She was sitting upside down, her legs propped up against the wall behind her bed. She hummed some random song to herself, before suddenly, she heard a woman clearing her throat from the glass opening of the cell. "Miss Quinzel?", she asked, her voice velvety and familiar. Harley looked up, seeing a woman standing at the entrance to her cell, her face obscured by her hat. "You've requested my help." "Oh, yeah!", Harley exclaimed, getting up from her bed. "I asked you and your boss Luthor for help getting out of here." "Keep it down!", the woman exclaimed in response, fiddling with the keypad to open the door. "Or do you want this plan to fail?"

Harley shrugged, adjusting her pigtails. "Did you find my hubby?", she asked. The woman nodded. "He's in a cell at the back of the building. I trust you know your way around here." Excitedly throwing the ball she was playing with in the trash can, she headed out of the now open door. "Got it! You've got my collapsable mallet too, right?". The woman nodded again before grabbing a small capsule from her breast pocket, handing it to Harley, who swung her arm, flicking it open. The woman flinched slightly as the previously small, capsule-shaped object transformed into a comically-large mallet.

"Now, Mr. Luthor and I have carefully cultivated this plan to raise as little suspicion as possible, so please don't-", the woman was then interrupted by Harley smashing open another asylum patient's cell, causing the alarm bells to start ringing aggressively. "…or that works too," she said as Harley moved down the hall, smashing all the cells open. Poison Ivy ran out of one of the cells as some guards flooded into the room, trying and failing to snuff the prisoners attempts to escape. "How'd you get out, Harley?", she asked. "I got help from, uh… hey, sista, what's your name again?".

"Mercy Graves," the woman responded, punching one of the other guards. "Got it! Now, Ivy, you help get out the others! I need to go find my Mista J!", Harley exclaimed, disappearing down one of the hallways. Ivy nodded, moving her hands to use her powers, plants breaking through cracks in the walls and breaking the glass doors. Rolling her eyes, Mercy went to another cell, fiddling with the keypad and letting the prisoner out, who happened to be Clayface. Stomping out of the cell, he continued the assault on the Arkham Asylum guards.

As Ivy and Mercy were getting some people out of the cells, Harley rushes out of another hallway, arm in arm with the Joker. "Oh, Harley dear! How clever you are, managing to bribe Luthor like that," Joker chuckled, throwing a pie bomb at a cell door. Harley, making heart eyes as she smashed open another cell, responded "You mean it, Mista J?". "Of course, Harl! When have I ever been dishonest with you?". "All the time," Ivy grumbled under her breath.

"Oh, Mista J! Let's go get the others out!", she giggled. Joker nodded, heading over and breaking open even more cells. However, Harley suddenly stopped at a cell, with a girl she'd never seen before in it. She had her back turned to the door, but her hair was ginger. "Hey, girlie!", Harley exclaimed. "Wanna get out of here?". The girl turned around, revealing her face; pale and freckled, with one green and one blue eye. She smiled, revealing a gap tooth in her teeth.

"I believe I knew you in high-school," she said, causing Harley to raise an eyebrow. "You're Angelica! How's your boyfriend? Are you still together after all these years?", the strange ginger-haired girl asked, tilting her head like a puppy. "Right, well, she's bonkers…" Harley muttered to herself before breaking open the cell. The strange girl clapped her hands giddily before elegantly stepping out of the cell. "Hey, before you go," Harley said. "Who are you? I've never seen you around here before." The girl simply smiled, slowly walking backwards, out of the room. "Oh, no-one important. You just keep doing what you're doing, Quinzel, and I'll come around eventually."

Harley raised her eyebrow higher at the mention of her last name, but ultimately shrugged it off, returning to her group of misfits. "So, this is everyone?", Mercy asked. "Fewer people than I anticipated… I sincerely hope you have a good reason for asking for our help, Miss Quinzel." "Trust me, Mercy! I've got a great idea. Now, to Mista' J and I's lair!"

#iagig #it's always gloomy in gotham #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction

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anotherhumaninthisworld · 1 year

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Frev friendships — Lucile Desmoulins and Marie Marguerite Françoise Hébert

A few days later we saw her arrive, [Desmoulins’] widow so lovely and so gentle, she was still inside the vertigo and pain, she walked and watched like Nina. Oh what bizarre a game revolutions are! The widow Hébert and the widow Camille Desmoulins, who’s husbands had just been sent to the scaffold, often sat together on the same stone in the heart of the Conciergerie and cried together. They would soon join them. Mémoires sur les prisons (1823) by Honoré Jean Riouffe, page 66. Marie was arrested on March 14, Lucile on April 4.

I saw at the registry of the Conciergerie, the day after their appearance at the hearing, and the very day of their trial, the wives of Hébert and Camille together. Hébert’s wife said to Camille’s wife: ”You are real lucky, you, there was not a single statement against you yesterday; no shadow of suspicion cast upon your conduct; you are no doubt going to go out by the main staircase, while I will be sent to the scaffold.” The wife of Camille, no doubt imbued with the atrocity of her judges, did not raise her eyes, showed neither fear nor hope, but modestly awaited her judgment. She went up a few minutes later; the debates had been closed the day before; the hearing was held only for the pronunciation of the judgment; she was condemned like the others and executed. I recall this conversation as precious, because in coming from the mouth of the wife of Hébert, in the presence of several people, it has a character of truth which gives an idea of the innocence of the wife of Camille, and of the barbarism of the court. A witness during the trial of Fouquier-Tinville 1795. Cited in Histoire parlementaire de la Révolution française… volume 34, page 427

22 people were led to the scaffold around six o'clock through a prodigious crowd. Chaumette next to Gobres led the way. Chaumette replied with a smile of rage to the sarcasms which people threw at him, especially the reproach of atheism ... Gobel was gloomy, silent, dejected. Dillon, pale, was next to Simon, the comedian Grammone with his son. In the third tumbril were the widow Hébert and that of Camille Desmoulins, chatting together. The widow of Camille Desmoulins fixed the gaze, both by the singularity of her costume, and by a piquant face which the approach of death has little altered. The others revealed a rather sad countenance: they did not show that kind of audacity which most of the great conspirators have shown until the present day. The two women were executed first; Gobel and Chaumette were the last. We will give the rest of the judgment tomorrow. Suite du Journal de Perlet, number 569 (April 14 1794)

The conspirators condemned by the Revolutionary Tribunal were executed yesterday [sic] at a quarter to seven (in the evening). Chaumette, sitting next to Gobel, replied with a smile of rage to the reproaches of atheism that were made against him; Gobel was gloomy, silent, downcast; Pale Dillon sat beside Simon; the actor Grammont next to his son; the widow of Hébert and that of Camille Desmoulins, elegantly dressed and maintaining composure, were chatting together. Gobel and Chaumette were the last to suffer their ordeal. Chaumette's head was shown to the people, to the sound of applause and cries of "Vive la République.” The wife of Hébert and the wife of Camille Desmoulins were the first to climb the scaffold, they embraced each other before dying. Nouvelles politiques et étrangères, number 146 (April 15 1794), cited in Annales révolutionnaires, volume 14, number 2, page 161 (1922)

Other observations

Marie was as much as 14 years older (38 years) than Lucile (24 years).

Did the two talk about how, were they to be condemned to death, they were both leaving a very young child orphaned (Marie a daughter a little more than one year old, Lucile a son a little younger than two years old)? Marie might also have been three months pregnant with her second child by the time of the execution…

#heard you forgot to take your depression pills today #no need to thank me #lucile desmoulins #hébert #desmoulins #marie hébert #if marie even was her real firstname…#frev #french revolution #i like how the girls kept a cooler head than their husbands on the way to the guillotine…#frev friendships

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raggedorchid · 2 years

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She is mine.

As the early morning sun shone on her golden brown eyes,it revealed pools of manuka honey; with opalescent flecks of honeybees scattered throughout. Her cheeks rose red; imitating the flower itself. Her lips contain a cupid's bow so strong, when I dream of her kiss fiery passion shoots into my lungs, burning my throat; leaving scars in its wake. Her hair incases her face, the colour of apricots, peaches, and plums resembling jam in its sweetest form. She’s nature's finest artwork, a mixture of Autumn leaves, and Spring flowers, Summer nights, and Winter rain.

She is mine

While all my world is seen through gloomy shades in dark pockets of the street, her eyes show me what the world looks like through rose coloured lenses. Even on my darkest days her warmth embraced me like hot tea on a frosty morning. She uses colours in ways I never thought possible; she uses rainbows to paint portraits, each one of my imperfections she perfects. When she’s a part of my world it’s like watching a kaleidoscope while on acid. Colours bounce along the road, jumping car to car, to the people on the footpaths; colours splatter everywhere.

She is mine

We finally are one. Icy fingers elegantly laced together. Cold arms intertwined. Brittle bodies shared. I knew her like the back of my hand, leaving her now vulnerable in my arms. Sometimes I felt that she knew me better than she knew herself, always looking over her shoulder, her keys clenched in her fist; second floor flat key, postbox key, car key, they all lined the inside of her fingers. “Shadows in the dark that's all it is” she reassured herself when she saw me following her. “Wind in the trees” she said when she heard me breath. When she heard footsteps, she ran.

She is mine

The dip between her shoulder and neck powdered with perfume, her scent smelling of roses intoxicating, bringing me ever closer. Dusk had settled upon us, as the rain set in the aroma of petrichor rolled over the hills, overwhelming my senses. She had made it back home to where she was “safe”, her second floor flat. She left her keys on the kitchen bench and headed to the bathroom where she jumped straight in the shower, where she tried to cleanse her mind of the odd happenings that night. She hadn’t shut the front door, nor had she latched her bathroom window. She saw me.

She is mine

The melancholy of the witching hour. As she ran out the door in nothing but a towel, she screamed for help. As she met the stairs some say she slid and fell, others think she was pushed. Her head hit the stairs, all those pretty colours that she had shown once before came forth once again, painting the walls in patterns I could never forget. Her sombre and odious blood dripped down the staircase seeping into the cracks, staining them. Her colours were lifeless.

Her eyes; black like the voids of space. Her cheeks; pale, reflecting the morning moonlight. Her hair; now the colour of the sepia paintings on the wall, sodden in her own blood. Her lips; a broken bow, leaving the fire to die out in her heart. Her body; so beautiful, yet lifeless.

She was mine

-raggedorchid/tewarewharegoth on insta

#female manipulator #manic pixie dream girl #coquette #female rage #girlblogging #real love #i was all over her

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fatale-distraction · 2 years

Note

Happy friday! From the intimacy prompts, "offering the other your coat " for solavellan?

Some Y2K AU for @dadrunkwriting on a gloomy evening, fueled by the modern marvel of a canned Dark and Stormy! Canned cocktails are my new favorite thing lmao

***

Rain poured from the sky in torrents, dense sheets sloughing down brightly lit window panes all down the avenue. In spite of the weather, people still bustled around, clutching umbrellas and bundled up in heavy trench coats and rubbery slickers.

Solas squinted up at the sky dubiously, holding his own umbrella higher, fat drops of rain dripping on the shoulder of his coat as he angled it to cover the smaller woman beside him more. “Are you parked far, Miss Lavellan?” He asked, intending to escort her to her car regardless of her reply.

Ellana stood wetly next to him, oversized green sweater sodden and heavy with water, long curling strands of wet red hair clinging to her pale, freckled cheeks, which flushed with either elation or the beginnings of a serious fever. “Oh,” she blinked wide violet eyes up at him and then laughed. “I thought you were joking. I don’t have a car, hahren. I walked.”

“You what,” he asked. “From where?”

He had shared a clandestine few hours with her after she spotted him working on a pile of grading at his favorite cafe and insinuated herself into his booth. He hadn’t even realized it had gotten so late. The sky had been dark all day, and the strange little creature had already been soaked through when she’d arrived. The warmth of the nearby fireplace had warmed and dried her, only for her to become splashed and soaked all over again by a passing car on the way out.

“Sera’s apartment,” she shrugged.

Solas sighed and tried to rein in the instinct to scold her quite soundly. “Hold this.” He handed her the umbrella, which she clutched in both hands, making a valiant but futile attempt to keep both herself and her much taller companion dry. He shrugged out of the thick leather coat, left in a rather lumpy but comfortable fair isle sweater and dark jeans. “That’s nearly halfway across town, if I remember correctly?”

“Yep—“ the cheerful reply was cut off when Solas dropped the jacket over her head and took the umbrella back.

“In that case, I will be driving you home.” He put an arm around her shoulders as she rearranged the coat properly over herself, fluffing up like a particularly offended little finch.

“I don’t live far, it’s fine…”

“Then it won’t take long to drive you,” interrupted Solas, guiding her toward the compact hatchback parked nearby. “Please, Miss Lavellan, the weather…”

She looked up at the sky, black, roiling clouds showing no sign of clearing up any time soon. “I do love the rain, but I suppose…” Solas made a stressed noise and she stifled a laugh. “If it will make you feel better, you may drive me home.”

Solas let out a long breath, and she laughed again. He unlocked the car and gallantly held the passenger-side door open for her to slide in. She felt momentarily guilty about dripping all over the nice seats, but by the time her chauffeur had come around the other side and elegantly slipped behind the wheel, stowing the umbrella in the back seat, he was a soaked as she was. He turned the key and immediately blasted the heater, turning the wipers up and carefully checking his mirrors before pulling out into the sparse traffic.

“Turn right at the second light. I’m the big brick building off the corner off Haven and Imperial,” she instructed, stretching her legs under the vents to warm her booted feet.

Without taking his eyes off the road, Solas nodded. “I think I know the one. You live very close to the university, then?”

“Yep.”

“And yet,” he could barely contain a teasing grin. “You still can’t manage to make it to my class on time.”

“Asshole,” laughed Ellana, burrowing further into the borrowed jacket. It smelled like citrus leather oil and pine, and she sniffed it rather shamelessly. That mischievous smile still twitched at the corners of his lips, something warm tightening in his stomach when he noticed. It wouldn’t have been proper to comment on it. They were already stretching the bounds of propriety as it was; the hours they spent laughing and arguing over coffee that afternoon, her being here in his car…He cleared his throat. The tick of his blinker seemed too loud.

#dragon age #ellanasha lavellan #writing down fatalities #solas #solavellan #dadwc #da drunk writing circle #dragon age y2k #y2k au #YES THIS IS HEAVILY INFLUENCED BY DONT STAND SO CLOSE TO ME DONT @ ME #professor solas #both of them are 100% consenting grown adults

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elvendara · 2 years

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MYSME-FICTOBER 28 OCT ‘22

Witchcraft

October 28th 2022

MC walked through the entrance. It was huge and elegant. There were several other students around her. Some seemed at ease, while others, like her, appeared anxious and nervous. They walked in a small stream down the lavish hallway. Her parents had dropped her off and promptly left, still unsure how they felt about their daughter going to a school for witches.

She herself was unsure as well. But she was thrilled to learn magic, to see if it was like the storybooks. And if she was successful, perhaps she could help her family to become financially secure. At the very least her being here and having all expenses paid for would ease the burden on them.

A tall woman stepped out from one of the many doors. She didn’t look like a witch, dressed in modern clothes, elegantly chic. Her black hair glistened in the lights from the chandeliers overhead, running down her back. Her red pantsuit looked expensive and tailored. She didn’t wear a witch’s hat, nor did she hold a broom. MC was a bit disappointed. She had expected a dark and gloomy castle with sputtering torchlights and robed figures.

“Welcome students to a new school year. I am Professor Norrin, counselor for first years. If I could have you split into girls and boys please, for any other genders see me. Here we have two upper classmen whom you will follow to your dormitories.” A girl with brown hair stepped up next to her left side and a boy with raven black hair to her right. “This is Jaehee Kang and Jumin Han. Make sure to listen to them carefully as you might get lost. These are large grounds and…things…sometimes happen that might not otherwise in the normal world. I hope to have a wonderful year and that you will learn much.”

MC felt relieved to be with Jaehee as Jumin seemed rather stern. The brown-haired girl smiled at them and spoke gently, answering any questions they had as they made their way across the grounds to a tall tower that was not attached to the main building at all.

“Fresh meat!” yelled a red-headed boy at them. His amber eyes behind his glasses gleamed even from the distance. Another boy stood behind him, same red hair and amber eyes, but without the smirk or confidence. Twins. MC shook her head. Boys are boys no matter where you are she thought. It had been a surprise to her that boys could be witches, but it didn’t really matter, did it? Magic was magic no matter what label you gave the wielder.

“Pay no mind to him. He’s ridiculous and a notorious prankster.” Jaehee said with a roll of her eyes.

“And the other one?” a girl asked.

“He’s fine, if he’s alone, but he’s usually with his brother. A bit shy but awfully powerful, more so than his errant brother. Perhaps if he worked as hard on his skills as he does on his wit, he might amount to something.” The last was spoken loudly, obviously meant for the red-head to hear. A laugh followed them as they left the boys behind. There weren’t as many students on the grounds as she’d thought there would be, but perhaps that was because school hadn’t officially started yet.

“Excuse me, but, uh, how many kids go to this school?” MC asked.

“Not as many as there used to be.” Jaehee slowed her pace and sighed. “The school was once so full that they had to turn students away. Now, the dorms might have about 60% occupancy.”

“Is magic fading?” Another girl asked.

“Not exactly. There are less students but, the magic they come with seems to be more powerful. Its as if magic is concentrating itself instead of spreading. There have been many studies on why this might be, if anyone is interested, I could email you some so that you can read about it.” She offered.

“I’d like to read them.” MC said. She had been interested in magic, witches, wizards, druids, you name it, she’d read about it. But getting to read from actual witches? Yes please!

“I’ll make sure to send them to you.” Jaehee said. A few other girls asked as well so she jotted down the names on her phone so she wouldn’t forget.

“The boy’s dormitories are on the other side of the grounds, but there is a lot of mingling that happens so don’t feel as if you need to stay away from them. Be careful of upperclassmen, as they have been known to haze new students. Do not believe everything they say, have a teacher verify the information before acting on it.” She advised.

“Here we are.” They stopped in front of the tower but a murmuring erupted amongst them. There was no door.

Jaehee smiled and explained. “This is your first use of magic. If you will carefully look at the area at the base of the tower, you can see an outline of a sigil in the grass.” They did as they were asked and MC immediately saw it and wondered how she could have missed it since it was so obvious.

“One by one you will step on the sigil. I will tell you your floor and room number. You will use your magic to teleport you there, either by going to the floor or your room. Are we clear?”

“Uh.” A girl raised her hand, “What if we don’t know how to use our magic?”

“What if we don’t have any magic?” Another chimed in and more anxious murmuring broke out.

“Not to worry. If you had no magic, you wouldn’t be here. If you find it impossible to use, I shall help you.” Jaehee said.

MC was eager to attempt the teleportation. The first few girls didn’t seem to have much of a problem with it, but the last one had taken at least five minutes before she disappeared.

“Next up is MC.” Jaehee said. MC didn’t hesitate to step into the sigil. She grasped her brown hair tightly, an anxious habit she’d picked up at some point. “Floor 7 Room 7.” MC nodded and closed her eyes concentrating on the number 7. She felt a whoosh and a lightness in her body. When she opened her eyes she was inside a small comfortable room. There was a twin bed on one side, a desk with a laptop on it, some pencils, pens, and notebook. A bookshelf was next to the desk, that sat under the only window. It was full of books already and her eyes lit up at the titles. Love Potion #9, Herbalism in the Modern Age, Magic redefined, Wand No More. She barely noticed the dresser opposite the bed, in which her meager amount of clothes was already stashed. It was going to be a fantastic year!

………………..

“Here we go!” the red-headed boy stood close by. He must have followed them. His twin still stood behind and to the side of him. He looked eager to witness what was about to happen as well.

A small gaggle of boys stood in front of their tower, Jumin having just given them the directions on how to get to their rooms. The tall grey eyed boy ignored the red-head and proceeded to call out names.

A small boy stood at the very back of the gathering. He looked incredibly nervous shuffling from foot to foot. His hair was an almost caramel brown and when he turned to face the twins Saeran gasped at how intense his amethyst eyes were. He’d never seen that color before.

“Hi! My name’s Yoosung. It’s my first year.” He grinned widely.

“Duh!” the red-head with the glasses said. His brother shoved him and growled at him. Yoosung’s eyes went wide and began to tear up.

“I was just kidding. I’m Saeyoung and this is my brother Saeran, he’s pretty shy though so don’t take it personally if he ignores you.” The pair stepped forward, Saeran right next to his brother.

“I like your eyes, they’re really pretty, like gladiolus.” Saeran said. Saeyoung was flabbergasted as his brother never initiated conversation with anyone but him.

“I…I don’t know what that is, but, thank you?” Yoosung said, a bit confused.

“It’s a flower. It has different shades but purple means charm, grace, and mysteriousness.” Saeran clarified.

“Oh. Well, I’m none of those things obviously.” Yoosung laughed. Saeran cocked his head and blinked at the boy.

“Yoosung Kim.” Jumin said. The older boys clipped voice made Yoosung jump.

“That’s me! I hope to see you inside! And…you can tell me more about flowers, OK?” Yoosung asked.

Saeran nodded, a small smile on his lips. He watched the brunette step onto the sigil.

“Floor 16, Room 10.” Jumin said, and it seemed that even before he’d gotten all his words out Yoosung disappeared. It made him gasp in surprise. The boy was a natural it seemed.

“Same floor! Aren’t you lucky?” Saeyoung put an arm around his brother who still held a smile. A smile Sayoung knew was all too rare. It was going to be a great year!

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mi4012dilumwarakagoda · 1 year

Text

Narrative Development, Pt 1

Draft 1

The World has two sides: Light and Dark; Light: Symbolizing hope, a dream, or something to grasp onto in darker times; while Darkness: Symbolizing Despair, a Nightmare, a Mystery, nothingness, or something that eats everything dear to us.

At first, you'd see a room of darkness and nothingness. At one moment, nothing: but sooner, a single candle was brought to life with a ray of light, so dim and colorless. Holding this single candle was a woman in a mask: the kind you'd call the Comedy mask, with its grinning more horrifying and unsettling in the light of this single candle, held gracefully over her chest. This woman walked at a slow pace, one foot at a time, as elegantly and as beautifully as possible. And sooner, the ray of light from that candle reveals another in this darkness; a young woman sitting in front of a worn-out mirror. She might have been 16, but her expression of despair, and colorlessness made her look like 30. The candle was set before her before another woman comes to her side: This one wearing the Tragedy mask, with its unsmiling expression getting bigger in this dim light.

Before these three were sets of makeup supplies, which the masked ladies gracefully and slowly used on the young woman's face. After a while of forceful makeup, one masked woman removed her mask slightly, only showing her dry and crusty lips before snuffing out the single flame.

Meanwhile, outside in the night, was a dark street; with almost no lights coming off from the buildings in the area, but the blue ray of light of the full moon lit up the street: still, the shadows hold so many secrets. It was a street your dark desires might be familiar with... Kamathipura: with men stumbling around, either drunk or gracefully held masked women, who wore those drama masks and were half naked with their breasts shining in the moonlight, within their arms before being called into the brothel as a siren calling out to a delusional sailor. There was no purity on this street, no ray of redemption: just another sinful world of man.

A car made its way through the street and stopped as before ramming a drunken man. Not to worry, it was just a bump. Just as this injured drunk groaned, a graceful figure in a pure white saree climbed down from the car: a figure the whole street suddenly turned to. In this dark street, this figure looked brighter than the full moon itself: a ray of hope, a dream, and something worth holding onto. She gracefully walked into the brothel nearby, avoiding the drunk who was still groaning. Every person on that street had their eyes on her graceful pacing and avoided her eyes as much as possible.

Back in the darkroom, no light, no purity... no hope. The young woman still felt the presence of the masked woman, their eyes on her even though it was pitch-black. But that sooner changed, for better or worse. A two-sided door opened, and light flooded into the room, revealing it to be a small, unclean room with one bed and a mirror table. Standing in the door frame was a figure with the moonlight bouncing off her white saree, making it look as if she was brighter than the moon itself. She came closer as the lights adjusted, revealing her beautiful face, wearing black sunglasses, and smiling with a hopeful expression.

"I heard you were feisty one. What's with the gloomy face?" Said this mysterious woman to the young lady, who has revealed in this graceful light that she ruined her makeup and was crying in a corner.

"I heard you bit Mr. Jagan. That isn't ladylike: not at all," said the woman in a white saree. "So, where are you from?"

The young lady did not reply, avoiding the gaze of the woman in the white saree as best as she can.

"Hey, I asked you, where you're from," The woman repeated, this time with a harsh tone.

"Ratnagiri," The young lady whispered.

"Hmm, and what brought you here, to Kamathipura?"

"Jameel brought me here," The young lady's eyes started tearing up, "He said he was going to marry me."

"Isn't that always how it starts? I was from Kathiawar, by the way, even though you didn't ask... I used to belong to a wonderful family-"

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hrefna-the-raven · 2 years

Text

The Naiad (Chapter 1)

A slightly different take on events prior to the game's story. I had this silly idea that Travis needs to meet another monster/creature that would not immediately want to eat his flesh^^

Summary:

This is set more or less 27 years prior to the game's events, the celebration of Chris' marriage is well underway, but Travis needs a moment alone to reflect on his life when the unexpected suddenly happens in a drunk stupor.

Chapter 1 - The Naiad of the Lake

He loved his brother, truly and undeniably, but today was just too much for him to handle. Watching Chris being married to the charming and beautiful Amelia filled him with glowing pride and a warm happiness but despite this, underneath all that fondness, scratched an unspoken darkness that he couldn't ignore any longer. The oozing black monster of dubiety tainting his heart, planting the fear of being left out, being the one that was doomed to never find the same bliss his brother had found today. Travis quaffed the bottle of whiskey as he stopped at the dock in front the camp's boat house, weaving dangerously close to the water. He bit his lip and let out a distraught sob.

"S-s-stopit, you shtupid idiot!", he slurred loudly, clouting his head, "I shouldbehappy for 'im!", another sob escaped.

Even in his current state, the awareness of being this feckless chunk of a human ate up all what was left of his determination to not give in to the darkness. This wasn't him, he knew it, but this night he lost the battle, he resigned to the sorriness, to the anger, to despair. His eyes glared at the empty bottle, gripping it tightly as a sudden bate rolled over him. Tears streamed down his face, grinding his teeth and he wound up to throw the bottle into the lake. Fuck, that was last thought his inebriated mind was able to form as he lost his balance and plunged into the lake. Icy water engulfed him as his body sank slowly towards the bottom. His heart began to race and his chest tightened as the unmistakable understanding of his situation squeezed the breath out of him. He opened his mouth, a gust of bubbles escaping with a muffled scream. He lost control over his body, arms and legs frantically kicking in half circles while the frigid finger of gloomy realisation poked its way through his brain. This is how he would die, this is the not so glorious demise of sheriff Travis Hackett, who was too stupid and too drunk as he drowned in his family's lake, on the evening of his beloved brother's wedding. He stopped fighting it, it became inevitable and as his movements ceased, he felt oddly calm for a moment as everything around him slowly faded to black. Before his mind gave in, he opened his eyes one last time and a sudden shock jolted through his brain. In the distance, glowing faintly in the moonlight, was something swimming towards him, something that weirdly resembled a young woman. His mind was racing as she closed up on him. Soft fingers gently grabbed his clothes, pulling him towards the woman and the last thing Travis registered before his consciousness faded away was the feeling of soft lips pressing on his, blowing hot air into his mouth.

The woman dragged the lifeless Travis to the lakeside. A sigh escaped her lips as her eyes wandered over the body in front of her. She pushed her hand on his chest and a warm glow went right through into him, filling him with a strange warmth. Travis' mind raced, thoughts flooding him, his torso tilted up and water disgorged from his mouth. He felt like his lungs were burning, eyes darting around, abruptly stopping as soon as they perceived the woman on his left side. She cowered a few steps away from him, positioning her body close to the water, poised to flee back into the lake should he prove to be a threat. Travis' heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. The moonlight illuminated her pale skin, giving it a fairy-like glow, attached to a golden ring around her neck a soft dark green fabric fell down her body elegantly, bound together with a golden chain around her hips, just not transparent to see through while barely covering up her breasts and private parts. Travis swallowed, growing confused and uncomfortable while staring directly in her azure eyes. He didn't remember anyone being at the lake when he shouted and managed to almost drown himself and he most certainly didn't recognise her face, he had never seen her around here, neither during his shifts as sheriff nor in his brother's camp. He hemmed shyly.

"I...uhm...guess I should thank you?", he asked hesitantly, still not decided on whether she was real or an illusion of his drunken mind.

The insecure tone of his voice seemed to reassure the woman that he wasn't a danger and she approached slowly, reaching out to cup his face.

"You were lucky I'm not as shy as my sisters. Why did you try to drown yourself in my lake?", her voice spoke soft and filled with an angelic seductiveness.

Did she just say HER lake? Travis shook his head.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry to break it to you but this lake is property of the Hackett family, so it can't be your lake unless you'd be part of the family, which clearly you are not and I should now, I'm part of it, living here my whole life."

She giggled at him, mouthing something that his brain seemed to identify as "silly human". Travis realised that the woman never took her hand away which still remained on his cheek. His heart began to race again and his thoughts were running wild, the alcohol dampening his reticence.

"Ma'am, my I ask your name?", he whispered almost inaudibly as heat rose to his face.

The woman gave him a sheepish smile, taking her hand off his face, getting a quiet whimper as response.

"You can call me Asta. What is your name, human?"

"T-Travis", he stummered, "wait did you just call me human?"

He blinked in confusion as she just laughed. It wasn't a derogatory laugh, it was filled with kindness and the amusement that she encountered every time a human was about to realise that there is more to nature than just animals and humankind.

"Yes I did", she smirked and rose up to her feet and as a subtle amber light shimmered from her hands, flowers in all the different colours started to grow at her feet and the water of the lake behind her bubbled softly, forming liquid vines that danced around her beautiful frame.

Travis marveled at the sight, his instincts told him to run, this woman was, ignoring all known science, clearly not human, she had powers that his mind classified as magic, he had read enough stories as a child to know that magic women meant trouble, always, but he felt drawn to her, every fibre in his body embraced everything she was, danger or not, he wanted to know more about this woman. Asta let the magic fade away and sat down next to Travis, childishly taping the tip of his nose.

"I'm the naiad of this lake. My kind lived here long before your family existed, it is our home, my home now.", she explained buoyantly, "we watched them claim the land, watched generations grow up, play in the forests, swimming in my lake, hiding in the depth so no one would ever know we're here", she paused, sighing sadly, "until you decided to die in my home."

Travis' muscles relaxed, he grew more and more comfortable in her presence. He didn't know why, but he felt a connection between the two of them and instinctively touched his chest.

"You can feel it, can't you?", she eyed him curiously as he nodded, "I healed you, part of my magic flows through you now, connecting us."

"But how is this possible? Why me? What is-"

"Travis!", shouts erupted from behind the boat house, "Travis! Where the heck are you?"

Footsteps approached rapidly and Asta fled into the lake, hiding beneath the surface of the water. Chris emerged behind Travis, who was still looking at the small waves that indicated Asta's elopement into the safe depth of the dark water.

"There you are. I, no, we were worried. You just rushed out of the house after the toast. What happened?", Chris put his hands on Travis' shoulder, "and why are you soaking wet?", he added.

Travis looked up at him, grinning like a child on Christmas.

"Oh you know me, C, I just went for a little swim in the moonlight. Why should you be the only one going on an adventure tonight?", he winked at his brother.

Christ rolled his eyes, letting out a gentle laugh.

"I swear brother, you're a good but sometimes very weird man."

"Well weird seems to run in the family, keeping up the tradition, C."

Travis got up and started to walk back to the wedding with his brother. As Chris disappeared behind the boat house, Travis cast one last glance to the lake, spotting Asta reappearing on the surface. She touched her chest, the faint glow shone again and Travis heard her voice in his head.

"Take care of yourself, human called Travis. And if you feel lonely, you know where to find me."

He blinked and she was gone back into the depth of the lake as if she never existed.

#travis hackett #the quarry game #travis hackettxreader #travis hackett/reader #chris hackett #lake septimus #hackett's summer camp #young Travis Hackett #chris hackett's wife mentioned #the quarry x reader #naiad #travis hackett x creature

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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

Text

The Evil Queen x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Don't Drink The Tea

Plot: Hilde makes you a potion, and she's deadly excited for the effects to kick in.

Warnings: Love potion!! (Referenced Non consent).

When finally the potion had brewed, and the combined smell's of nutmeg (For flavour, because she loves you), rose oil, the tiniest vial of her own dried blood, and old vodka fill the small, gloomy room, the Queen lifts the cauldron up off of the coals using a hooked pole, and sets it down heavily on her work bench. Taking a long wooden spoon next, she stirs it round and round, as she had been doing all night and into the early morning hours that new day, making absolutely sure that it is the correct consistently- as the book clearly reads that your concoction should in the end, be thick, but not tar-like.

You only deserve the best.

When she discovers that its absolutely perfect, finally, a half-tired smirk graces her lips that reminds her she needs to touch up her make up before seeing you. But just thinking about what she'll have before the sun even rises on the rest of the day, is enough to fill her with satisfaction.

Because Hilda always gets what she wants. The queen is the most powerful piece on the board; The most dangerous. Thus, it's only natural that she always wins- And takes whatever treasure she deems necessary, as her own.

Be that riches, titles, powers,

or people.

Holding her breath, Hilda scoops a ladle into the steaming potion and pours the gradually darkening, pink mixture into a bottle before swiftly capping it, hiding it carefully in the compartments of her skirts, and sweeping from the dungeons. She has to do this now. She cant wait any longer. Not for this, not for you.

So she quickly goes by the kitchens, making sure personally that food is already being made, and whispers a snake-like demand for her head chef. He must make a special breakfast for Lady Y/N of the Southern Isles. Make sure that you brew tea for her. But don't use any milk.

It would show the dusty pink colour too much, and you mustn't know what you're drinking.

Then the Queen is off again, dresses sweeping and heel's clacking against the stone floor's of her castle audibly, like a warning; Her only kindness.

Hidden away in her chambers, Hilda pulls the potion bottle out of her and dress and sheds it gracefully on the way, letting the purple silk fall to the fur's coating her floor, and stepping out of it on her way to the wardrobe without a hitch, like its practised - and truthfully, it is, - , leaving herself in only her corset and under things. The corset she unlaces herself as she enters her closet, and leaves laid out on a bench inside her bounty of clothes. The skirt of her under dress is slightly shorter then her gowns, but she removes this as well; Pulling it from the hem, over the top of her head.

And her underpants- they go last. Discarded on the floor.

Then she picks up a new corset, hooks and laces is it up easily on her own, and ties it up quite simply in the back- she wouldn't want you having any trouble pulling it loose from her breasts, later.

Finally, Hilda picks out the dress she had made specifically for the occasion - velvet's of red and black, twisting around her body, and a slit up as high as she dares, - and slips it on over her head; Tying the sash loosely over her hips.

Sitting elegantly at her vanity next, the twisting, winding, golden roots of her mirror framing her beautiful face as it should. She sets the potion down next to a cap of solid perfume and all the other potions and doodad's that steal away her age, and smirks at it. No one knows - or no one dares utter, - that her looks aren't natural anymore, and while its quite likely that you'll find out her dirty little secret - as you'll see her first thing in the morning tomorrow, if she can help it. Ebony hair messy from your fingers, lips washed of the perfect ruby tint by your tongue and your wetness further down, her fingernail polish chipped away after a long, rough night of love-making, the powders that make her face the correct creamy colour wiped away against your mattress, voice hoarse from- , ahh... - ... she cant imagine that you'll be complaining. Not if she cast her spell correctly, and of course; She did.

Even so, Hilda goes about her usual beauty regimen as if it were any other day- because to anyone else that see's her today, it is. It has to look, as if it is. Apart from her hair, she does everything normally. Powders her face with the powder puff her husband bought her made of a fox hair and died black, paints her eyes with that slick and flawless black coal paste imported from expensive far away lands, dabs her favourite red colour into her lips, and finally rubs an appropriate amount of perfume onto her neck. Enough so that you smell it, but not enough to be overwhelming.

It, also has a trace of her magic in it. Just makes those she bares her neck to... more compliant.

Her hair, she leaves out for once. Running sharp, perfectly painted nails through her thick locks - black, all but the roots which are horrifyingly... turning a deep, ugly grey once again. She'll have to fix that the next time the moon is waning... - , Hilda smiles at her reflection. Apart from the colour of her roots, she's absolutely flawless.

The Fairest of them All indeed...

Gaze following her fair skin from her forehead to her collarbone, and off the mirror entirely, Hilda finds herself drawn again to the bottle on her vanity. Filled with excitement once again for what's to come, she vacates her seat, hides away the potion into her new dress, and leaves her room for the day; Heading for yours.

She made sure that when you arrived, your chambers were ones close to hers. Or, at least, in the same wing. Just down a long hallway and around a corner.

Also- that your room was one of those she had secret tunnels from her chambers built into. Chambers like that were generally used for times she deemed a guest unwelcome, or in her way. She could sneak in as they slept, then be back in her bed by the time the guards came to her with the news of their deaths, and no would ever see her anywhere near their door. Of course, with you the tunnels will be utilised a little differently, but the general design would be the same.

Feeling her heart beat pick up almost unnaturally when her eyes catch sight of that door she knows you're peacefully resting behind - unknowingly garnering your strength, though hopefully not for your immune system, - , Hilda rolls her eyes. Don't start feeling on me now, oh heart. Not when we're so close to getting what we desire.

When she arrives, her heels ceasing their violent clattering against the floor, she instantly smells the fresh meal prepared- already set up inside. She allows a smile. Well done, Chef.

She considers knocking, but quickly abandons that notion. She's never knocked before in her own castle; That wont start now. Instead she opens the door and allows herself in, eager - yet still, somehow, dull looking. As if the queen were missing something... something in her soul. Perhaps her soul itself, - eyes falling upon your still body under the fur's and the wool's and the silk's that adorn the bed.

How she wishes she could awaken you with her lips... lose herself in the - no doubt, - ambrosia-like taste of your lower lips... But the Queen is nothing if not in control. Of everyone and everything around her, and her own wanton needs.

So, instead, she finds herself at your bed side - almost before she even realises she's moved, - , sitting down beside you and allowing herself to brush her fingers through some of your hair; Getting it out of your sweet, ignorant face. "Soon enough... " She whispers to herself, before grazing her fingers down your body and to your waist, where she places her hand. Gently shaking you, she awakens you from your slumber.

As you're broken away from your dreams - or nightmares? You certainly have a bad feeling, - , you lift heavy eyelids to reveal a dark room that suggests that daylight had not even broken yet, and a figure on your bed.

Breath hitching in surprise and fear, you sit up- only then, realising who the figure belongs to. Your eyes widen, immediately, and your heart doesn't bother slowing its mad pace.

For its the Queen.

"Your highness- " You're shocked, to say the least, at seeing the Queen, known to be Wicked, who's taken you to stay in her castle- in your room. When its still but the wee hours.

... Looking, almost overwhelmingly, alluring. You've never seen a dress that gorgeous before- and even in the dark, her eyes shine an emerald green.

Admittedly, you feel the urge to reach out and touch the fabric of her gown, but resist. This is all very odd, and you're nervous.

"I apologise for waking you, Lady Y/N." She says... and, yet, does not look at all as if she means it. Which, she doesn't. She just wanted to say your name, and lead you by fair hand in fair hand, into a false sense of safety with her. "... Truly I don't have an explanation for myself, this morning. I just... " Here is where her eyes fall downcast, though its an effort she finds to remove her eyes from yours, and she presses her lips firmly together... a worried, half-embarrassed expression. You feel concern wash over you. "Well, I thought I heard voices. Men's, voices. And my royal guard was not where he was supposed to be, and... "

She needn't explain - bleed deception like a first language, one she spoke fondly and fluently, - any more, it seems- as you, so inappropriately, picked up her hand without a second thought in both of yours and connect gazes with her; Your eyes open wide, and worried. "Oh- my queen, theirs no need to explain! I understand the fear. With your king overseas I cant imagine what kind of stress you're under."

Like a sign, that you so unfortunately that morning, do not notice- do not take- ... it started raining in that moment; With her hand clasped in yours and your eyes widely staring up into her ones, in the supposed safety of your warm bed. A clap of thunder cracks across the sky above the castle and lightning flashes across the Queen's face- Contouring her cheekbones deeply and changing the colour of her eyes for a split second. Even she realised the divine symbolism, but you are still looking at her and nothing in those innocent, naïve orbs has changed. So she just smiles, thankful.

Unbelievably, thankful.

"Thank you... " She has to bite her tongue to keep from calling you darling- but she manages it. And it only encourages her to get on with her plan.

Suddenly Hilda gets up from the bed, carefully disentangling her hand from yours and you watch her flit to the end of the bed- and pick up a silver tray from the chest there.

Its covered in delicious foods, still warm, and tea- still piping hot. Steaming.

"I wondered if you might have breakfast with me," Darling, "In light of my... delicate, state." Not much of what will work on men, will work on women... but no one, save myself, is immune to a damsel in distress.

Especially one that looks like I do.

"Oh- of course!" You reply immediately, without thinking. For you aren't worried at all anymore, even with the rain pouring down violently outside your window and all around the palace grounds. Even with the wolf of bedtime stories sitting so close to you once again. "This looks amazing, your highness."

"My chef is old," The Queen explains to you, expression monotone. Before a glimmer of mischief appears in her eyes, and you cant help but smile. She makes you feel lie you're in on an inside joke with her. "Old, and very, very practised."

You giggle, reaching for a mug of tea to sip at when Hilda connects that hand once again with yours, swiftly. Pink dusts your cheeks, and you look up at her with wide eyes again. "Oh, trust me love,

you wont want to have that without this."

And then- Grimhilde takes it out. Her potion; A poison. A medicine- that'll change you and make you what she wants. She holds it up and shakes it, like its nothing though.

"... Oh?" A drug? Your heart sizes in surprise, unsure. What is that?

Hilda winks at you, going ahead and pouring some in your mug- and then hers, as well. "A sugar serum, dear. My own recipe- its the perfect way to start your day, I promise."

Relaxing again, you take the mug easily when she goes to hand it to you. She smirks into her own, thinking how easy this is.

People really are her toys to play with.

You take a slow drag from your mug, and it makes Hilda wet. But not because even a drop of her own tea left the mug- because she knows what happens next, even if the realisation - desire, - is only just dawning on you as you take the mug from your lips; Now waiting for her own. Hilda watches your next movements closely, uncaring of how intense she may look now. If it didn't work, she has plan B- And you don't need to be docile, for plan B.

Your eyes take a darker sheen, immediately, like the colour of the tea filled up your irises and you take in a deep breath. When your gaze flickers to Hilda, all perfect black lines and red curves, your heart starts to beat wildly in your chest. How could you not have realised before- she's so... so...

Raising a perfect eyebrow, Hilda decides to prompt you. "Are you alright?"

"I- I- I- " Are you?

Her hand comes up to your face and your eyes slide shut on impact, the contact too lovely for you to handle looking at her too. "Darling... What would you say if I asked you if you love me?"

"I'd say yes." How could not... You force your eyes open again, but your eyes only sit half lidded as you look back at her, intently.

A deadly smirk quirks at the corner of her mouth. "If I asked you if you'd kill for me?"

"Gladly."

"Die for me?"

"Y... yes... "

Finally, Hilda allows her eyes to fall down your body, clad only in the thin cotton of a nightgown, before flickering back up to your face and devouring you whole in those emerald greens.

"Undress for me?"

#The Evil Queen x Fem!Reader Oneshot #The Evil Queen x Reader #The Evil Queen x Reader Oneshot #The Evil Queen #Oneshot #Dark #Disney Evil Queen #Disney Evil Queen x Reader #Evil Queen Grimhilde #Disney Evil Queen Grimhilde x Reader

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the-coffee-fandom · 2 years

Text

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗

Dreaming Of Anemone

╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝

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ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1: ʟᴀsᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴡᴀʏɴᴇ

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ˡⁱⁿᵏ

╚══════▣◎▣══════╝

𝔽𝕠𝕣 @ggomos-maribat ; ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝔹𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕕𝕒𝕪

✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ══✿═══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞═══✿══✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ•͙┄✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ

Marinette huffed as she yanked her suitcase off the airport conveyor belt. It fell to the floor with a loud clang but didn't gain any attention as the place was bustling with so many other people, the noise not noticed due to the volume of everything else. She fixed the straps of her backpack on her shoulder and pulled the heavy suitcase behind her, heading to the exit to meet the people picking her up. She got to the exit gate and passed through the security check. She passed through and looked for anyone who had her name. People bumped past her as she hesitated, not seeing anyone. Then her eyes landed on a man, gray hair but balding in a neatly pressed suit holding a sign with her name written elegantly in black lettering. She walked over to him, and smiled politely.

"Bonjour, I assume you're the butler Monsieur… no… Mr. Wayne spoke of? Alfred?" Marinette fumbled a bit over the changing of French to English

The older man nodded with a small smile, "That would be me. Mistress Marinette?"

Marinette smiled brightly as she rocked back on her heels, "I'm Marinette, yes. Just Marinette is fine… erm Sir."

He nodded silently but the look in his eyes told her she would have to repeat it, "Right this way please, and Alfred is just fine."

He moved to take her suitcase from her but she moved it slightly behind her, "No thank you Sir. I'm fine."

He nodded politely and led her out to the parking lot where he seemed to have scored a parking space right at the front surprisingly. Though, from what she had heard, Bruce Wayne was a very rich and influential man and could probably afford to just pay them to save the spot for him if he wanted. He led her to a slick, black limousine and opened the trunk of the car for her stuff, immediately offering to put it in for her. She reluctantly let him lift the heavy suitcase for her but kept her backpack on her person when he gestured to it. He led her around the car and opened the door for her. She got in with a "thank you" but paused when her eyes met with a boy around her age typing on his computer. He looked up and their blue eyes met. They both seemed to not know what to say for a moment before he smiled, though it looked a tad fake.

"Hello, you must be Marinette?"

She nodded and held out a hand, "Yes that's me. And you are?"

He took her hand and gave it a firm shake, "Tim. Tim Drake."

"Drake? Are you not one of Mon.. Mr. Wayne's wards?"

"Oh I am. Timothy Drake-Wayne. I'm adopted."

Marinette nodded, "Ah I see. Guess we both have that in common."

Tim opened his mouth but then closed it and seemed to debate what to say, "I apologize at the suddenness of everything. I know it won't be the easiest to adjust to everything but we truly are happy to get to know you."

Marinette nodded silently, pulling her seatbelt across her.

Tim sat back in his seat, getting the message she was no longer interested in conversation, and went back to whatever he was working on on his computer. They sat in silence for the remainder of the drive, Alfred not chiming in either. Marinette looked out the window at the dull streets. Everything here was so… bland.

Her breath fogged up the glass as she pressed her cheek to it, the coolness soothing. She closed her eyes as they drove away from the city. She focused on her breathing as she hugged her backpack close to her chest.

"We're here," Alfred announced.

Marinette opened her eyes, expecting to see a normal, gloomy house but quickly found them widening in surprise as they entered in through huge, black gates, pulling into a manor that seemed to be more than twice the size of the Agreste's. Tim seemed to notice her shock and chuckled quietly.

"Did Bruce not inform you that he's rich?"

Marinette shook her head as she took everything in, "Must have slipped his mind."

"Typical."

"No need to worry Mistress Marinette. We'll get you all settled. You'll fit right in."

Marinette nodded at Alfred's reassuring words as the limo rounded the U-shaped driveway, coming to a stop before the door of the manor. Alfred parked and exited the vehicle, coming around the side and opening the door for them, presenting a grand mansion to her.

"Welcome to Wayne Manor, Mistress Marinette."

Marinette scooted across the seats from the window to the door, taking the extended hand Alfred offered to help her out. She couldn't help but gape at the great estate before her. Tim got out behind her, patting her shoulder as he passed, laptop tucked under his arm. Alfred closed the door behind them, ushering them towards the house, insisting on bringing her luggage up later after a tour of the estate. He opened the doors for them and Marinette followed behind Tim as he strutted in.

"You can hang your coats here," Tim said as he took off his coat, Alfred immediately taking it and shaking it off a bit so no wrinkles were present and neatly hanging it onto a coat rack.

Marinette nodded as she slipped her arm out of her baby pink jacket, Alfred moving towards her to help her. She stepped back from his approach. Alfred got the hint and waited till she had taken it off and handed it to him. He hung it up for her and then began heading down a hallway.

"Come along now, there's plenty to see."

Marinette trailed after him as he showed her around the manor. There was so much to see, so much to remember. How did anyone get anywhere here? Marinette just knew she would be getting lost and embarrassed at multiple points during her stay. She kept pace with Alfred until they got to the end of one of the hallways where he showed her the rooms of many of Bruce's wards which were not typically used but they still had. Marinette thought it was nice that they could come anytime they liked and still have a room.

Alfred showed her to what would be her room whenever she wanted to come and then insisted she must have something to eat after such a long trip. She came to a stop as they got to the end of the hallway though, pausing in front of a painting. It depicted what seemed to be the entire family. She didn't know who they all were, only able to pick out Tim and Alfred from the picture and a good guess which one was Bruce. She suddenly felt anxiety hit her as she thought about meeting the others.

What would they think of her? Would they be happy to have another sibling? Would they be as polite as Tim? Would they hate her for coming into their family and lives? Did they know she even existed?

"You alright?" Tim asked, coming up besides her.

Marinette snapped her head towards him.

"Uh yes, yes of course. Why wouldn't I be?" She gave him a tight lipped smile.

Tim nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he looked up at the painting.

"You don't have to meet them yet you know."

Marinette looked at him questioningly. He breathed out a laugh.

"They're never around, you don't have to worry."

"Oh."

He sounded sad and looking closer, he looked tired too. There were dark circles under his eyes that seemed to be a replica of hers. He also looked lonely. She stepped a bit closer to him and gently bumped their arms together.

"Thank you for being here to greet me then."

Tim turned to her and smiled, "Of course. You are my new sister after all. Family should stick together."

Marinette nodded decisively at that.

"I'm glad to have a brother like you," Marinette told him with complete sincerity, "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

"I'd love to," Tim smiled, ignoring any possible tears and led her to the kitchen.

Maybe being a Wayne would be alright?

✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ══✿═══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞═══✿══✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ•͙┄✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ

◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

════ ❀•°⋆★⋆°•❀ ════

𝙰𝚜𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 <𝟹

#maribat #mlb x dc #fanfiction #dc x mlb #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat tim drake wayne #maribat jason todd #maribat tim drake #maribat dick grayson #maribat damian wayne #hanahaki #hanahaki au #hanahaki disease #angst #chapter 1 #maribat hanahaki #bio dad bruce wayne #biodad au

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thewild--flower · 2 years

Text

[Translation] Code: Realize Bouquet of Rainbows Short Story - Saint-Germain

Source: Code: Realize Bouquet of Rainbows Stella Exclusive Booklet

Scan credit: Kou

Summary: Saint-Germain, Cardia and Sisi enjoy a peaceful afternoon in the courtyard until he asks her a surprising question.

'I Can Touch You' - Saint-Germain

On a certain afternoon when the tranquil sound of birds chirping from somewhere could be heard.

As I enjoyed a cup of tea at the table in the courtyard, I fondly watched over the scene before me.

'Now then Sisi. One more time.'

'Woof woof.'

'.....Go get it!'

Aiming for the stick that Miss Cardia threw, Sisi dashed forward enthusiastically.

Before the stick could fall to the ground as it curved in a beautiful U-shaped arc, he took a magnificently large jump into the air. Sisi landed elegantly as he simultaneously caught the stick. And then, he ran back at full speed to Miss Cardia as she held out her hands—.

'Great job, well done, well done.'

As Sisi snuggled up against her, Miss Cardia leisurely stroked his fur.

'.....How peaceful…..'

How luxurious it was, to enjoy the fragrance of some fine black tea, feeling relaxed while watching over Cardia and Sisi's antics.

That's right, what a peaceful time this was. Almost to the point I could forget about the sense of deadlock our group had sunk into–.

'.....Though, I wonder if letting down one's guard too much will be a problem.'

Smiling wryly, I put the teacup to my lips to take another sip.

—Truth be told.

Though of course there had been some changes, in matters involving Miss Cardia, there had not been many new developments currently.

On the subject of her father, and also on the problem of the poison within her body.

Regarding her poison, though poison-resistant clothing and everyday items had been prepared so that she would not experience any inconvenience, they were but a stop gap measure at best.

As I had thought, in order to grant her wish to touch other people and things, a more fundamental solution was required after all.

…..However, whether such a method existed was the issue.

'For myself as well, I would be quite pleased if there was.'

Though considering my current situation, whether I was really in a position to think such a thing was another matter entirely—.

'Saint-Germain, Sisi's headed your way.'

'.........Oh?'

'Bark, woof woof!'

Realising she had been calling me, I lifted my head and there he was. Sisi had jumped up onto my lap.

'My my, you're full of energy today, Sisi.'

They say that an animal's intuition is sharper than that of a human's, so perhaps he had picked up on my gloomy thoughts.

While I patted him as he pushed his nose towards my face, he barked as if enjoying the attention.

'Sorry, Saint-Germain. Sisi suddenly ran off.'

'Not at all, if he wishes to play, then I welcome it. After all, when he first arrived at the mansion, he never really tried to approach any of us before…..'

He really had changed.

After I placed Sisi back down on the ground, I poured some tea and held it out to the girl who had sat down.

'Thank you, Saint-Germain…..it's delicious, as always.'

'I am honoured, my lady.'

As I returned her thanks, I quietly surveyed her.

Perhaps because she had been running about with Sisi, her cheeks were flushed, tinged with a healthy looking red.

Without a doubt, if I were to touch them directly, they would certainly be soft to the touch.

Though of course, it was unlikely she would allow such an action—.

'....I was a bit jealous of you just now.'

'Just now….?'

'Having Sisi lick your cheek like that.'

'That is…..in other words, you wish you could touch him directly?'

'.....Yes. Although I know that it's impossible.'

The two of us looked down at Sisi who had started to fall asleep curled up at our feet.

—I want to touch you, I want to feel your warmth.

As wishes went, it was but a modest one, however until now it was likely one that felt too far out of reach.

That's why she had lived her life so that she would not think about or desire it, repressing her true feelings all the while.

—But, now.

'.....Hehe…..'

'.....Was that something to be laughed about just now?'

'Pardon me. I am just simply happy that you've become able to voice such a wish.'

The girl who did not possess anything other than a body of poison, now had wishes all of her own. That was a wonderful thing.

…..But, given the current reality, it was still a difficult situation.

The modest wish that she held, likely for the first time in her life.

If she were to meet her end with not even that simple wish being granted…..

That would truly be sad.

'If—'

That had to have been why.

I ended up saying what I did next.

'If you were actually able to touch someone right now, what would you do?'

'Right now….?'

Her large eyes looked at me intently.

She was trying to grasp exactly what I meant by those words.

'That is…..you're not talking about in the future, when I'm able to touch someone?'

'Correct. I'm talking about right here, and now.'

Narrowing my eyes, I responded with a smile.

A smile that was a mask, with my feelings and true intentions suppressed beneath.

'For example, say that right now there was someone very, very strong….. Even if you were to touch them, they would be able to bear it and not die.'

'..........'

'If there was such a person, what would you do?'

She did not answer immediately.

From her point of view, what I said must have been very out of the blue.

That was only to be expected. Even I didn't quite understand the reason I had brought the topic up myself.

'.....I…..'

…..Perhaps I had crossed the line with this question after all.

Regretting that I had said anything at all, as I was about to open my mouth to take it back, she continued her sentence.

' —Of course I would like to know the warmth of another person. But I wouldn't want to hurt anyone to do so. I….. would rather stay poisonous than do that.'

' ———'

Hers was an answer so decisive, that I caught my breath.

It couldn't quite be said that this was not a show of courage.

But more than that, she clearly possessed a strong will.

…..The emotion that briefly flared in my heart just now, was surely a feeling of guilt for having tried to test her like this.

Or maybe it was—.

'I apologise, my joke went a little too far.'

What I said in the end were only evasive words, that didn't match the seriousness of her answer.

'—Now then, let's end our talk here. We should continue with our teatime. I actually have some special tea leaves and snacks that I've been saving.'

Telling her that I would go and prepare them now so she should wait there, I left my seat and headed in toward the mansion—.

' —If it would hurt another, she would rather stay poisonous….. is that so?'

She really was kind.

So much so that it was a mystery that she was called a monster.

That's why I thought all the more.

That it would really be too pitiful if this kind girl died without ever knowing the warmth of another.

'That's right. That is why, when it is time for you to meet your end—'

I would take your hand.

Even if I were to become hideously burnt, and it caused me pain.

Because surely that would be the least I could do to atone.

#code: realize #code realize translation #code realize saint-germain #sancardia #code realize #code: realize bouquet of rainbows

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gryffindors-weasley · 4 years

Text

A Love to Last

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Draco feels he’s got the kind of love he’s been searching for.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: mentions of the dark mark, guilt, tiny bit of jealousy, self doubt, fluff, kissing

A/N: This is my entry for @dracosaurusrex song fic challenge! The song I’ve chosen is A Sunday Kind of Love by Etta James. I hope you enjoy it my lovely Ina!!

When you awoke, the bedroom was still cast in shadows as dawn had just begun to roll around, though you hadn’t anticipated it to brighten much more than it had been with the way the rain clouds swirled outside. Mornings like these had always proved to be amongst the hardest when it came to getting out of bed for the day. The warmth of your blankets, coupled with the presence of your lover just inches away, topped off with the cozy dreariness of the weather was recipe for you to stay put. But there had been one thing on your mind; Delilah’s Bakery and Tea Shop.

Draco normally had been an early riser out of habit, his work schedule leaving him no choice but to develop such a thing. However, even the overcast morning had left him reluctant to leave the comforts of the bed and start the day. He’s stirred ever since he felt you jostle the bed with your frequent tossing and turning, though, more so when he feels your gaze fixed on him.

“I can feel you staring, Darling,” he mumbles, unable to open his eyes more than just a sliver as the very tips of his fingers brush over the exposed skin of your hip. You’d been caught in your admiring.

“Was not.”

You try desperately to hold your defense, though your smile breaks through your half-stoic expression in a matter of seconds when his fingers dance over your side. A tired grin settles on his lips as he releases an airy laugh through his nose.

“You never were a good liar,” he remarks, peeking an eye open at you just so he could catch glimpse of the eye roll that was soon to follow his statement.

“It’s rather hard not to stare, you know,” you start, a wider smile beginning to spread across your lips, “especially when you’ve got a bedhead like that.”

For that, he opens his eyes fully, his gaze meeting yours when he looks up at you with narrowed eyes. His smile vanishes in favor of a frown as he props himself up on his elbow, chunks of unkempt platinum hair sticking up in the back while others fell in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you think yours is any better, do you, Darling?”

Your mouth is quick to fall agape in faux offense and his own smile returns at his triumphant remark.

“I don’t appreciate your wit at this hour, Draco,” you frown, moving to get up from your bed in reluctance. His brows knit together at your actions, his hand quick to wrap around your wrist and tug you downwards toward his lips. “You should be getting up too.”

Your words are just barely spoken, narrowly cut short as his lips meld with your own in a languid kiss, morning breath and all. It was soft and tender, his hum tickling against your mouth in a way that brought back your smile again.

“And why is that?” He murmurs, mere centimeters from your lips, so close they brush over your own with each and every word.

“We’re making a trip to see Delilah.”

You’re matter-of-fact as you pull away from him, slipping from his loose grasp much to his obvious dismay. He throws his head back with a sigh, sending heaps of blonde hair to flop backwards and out of his eyes momentarily.

“You pinky promised me we’d go today. You can’t go back on those you know,” you remind him firmly, your lips pursed. His face scrunches as he remembers his words from just the night before; he’d much rather stay in bed and kiss you senseless all day long.

“Aren’t we a bit too old for pinky promises?” He asks with a raised brow, amusement weaving around his every word as he sits up fully.

You scoff incredulously at his absurd suggestion. “Draco, we’re only twenty-four. Besides, you’re never too old for pinky promises.”

His gaze falls almost involuntarily to the mark etched permanently on his arm as he drops his head forward at your words, his smile fading and his hair falling back down over his forehead. His stomach churns every time he sees the dark symbol, disgust clouding his mind as he looks at the swirls of black ink taking up space on the pale skin of his forearm. Space he’d never get back, memories of it forever tarnishing his mind. He often wonders how such a vile mark could curl so elegantly as if it weren’t the most humiliating thing to carry on your shoulders in the wizarding world. If he could scrub it off he would do it in a heartbeat; he’s tried.

“Dray?” His view of it is obstructed when your hand slips over his arm, effectively capturing his attention once more. You knew his mind had wandered elsewhere, and you knew just where it’d gone to. “We’d better get there before she sells out of everything. We’re not the only ones that are fond of her baking, you know. Especially on a Sunday morning.”

You finally slip from the bed with a kiss to his cheek and one on his lips, one he inevitably chased for more with a quiet protest as you pulled away from him entirely this time.

“Have you always been this demanding, my love?” He asks with a chuckle, catching the sweater you had tossed at him. You pretend to ponder the question as you tap your finger to your cheek.

“I believe so, yes.”

—

The little bell over the small shop door signals your entrance, drawing a few curious stares before they’ve gone back to their drinks. Immediately the scent of the various pastries sitting in the glass showcase is what hits you first, that and the ever familiar smell of hot chocolate. Your hand slips from Draco’s as you wander to the section in particular you’re looking for, missing the way he smiled after you before he stopped himself from standing there looking like a lovestruck fool.

It seemed as though fate had been on your side that gloomy Sunday morning, two fresh blueberry muffins sitting on their respective tray just waiting for you to buy them up. Delilah had already been on the task of grabbing them without the need to ask, having known your favorites like the back of her hand by now. The two of you had been coming there every day for the past year and a half after all.

“You’re always selling out, aren’t you, lovely?” Draco asks with a smile, putting some money on the counter and extra as a tip. The older woman smiled with a soft laugh, her cheeks staining a soft pink at the nickname falling from his lips.

Your eyes lit up upon seeing her add in an extra chocolate chip muffin too. She did this every time, perhaps it was because the sweet old woman had a bit of a crush on Draco, but nevertheless it still surprised you. She immediately denied your futile attempts to pay for it, as she’s done each and every single time you’ve tried and you purse your lips playfully, easily falling into small talk with her as if it’d been ages since you did.

She told you of her grandson who’d come to help her out with the bakery now that she had been getting older and unable to keep up with orders like she used to. You saw him flittering around the kitchen here and there but there was no sort of proper introduction, and you were quickly pulled to another subject. She had a habit of bouncing around from topic to topic, unable to talk about any one thing for more than a minute or two.

However, Draco had been privy to the boy’s obvious gazing in your direction from behind the counter, a gaze that seemed to be a little too adoring for his girlfriend. Naturally, he fixed him with a raised brow before his eyes narrow at him ever so slightly. Draco wasn’t trying to be overly intimidating per say, but he hadn’t been too fond of the way he’d been looking at you. That was a look reserved for himself to give only, and he planned to take advantage of that as soon as the guy stops making heart eyes at you.

He nearly drops the tray of chocolate chip cookies clutched in his hands when he catches sight of the displeased blonde, cheeks flushing a deep crimson at his blunder. He scratches the back of his neck and rushes back to the kitchen without another glance in your direction. You seem to be blissfully unaware of the subtle and wordless interchange and Draco finds himself slipping his hand back in yours with a soft squeeze because he’d missed the contact. Any bit of jealousy that had been simmering in his chest, no matter how minute, dissolves the moment you look at him.

“Are you ready to go, Love?” You ask, your eyes seemingly sparkling up at him.

He clears his throat and nods, careful not to get too lost in how much he had wanted to grab your face and kiss you in that moment. You both bid Delilah a warm goodbye, Draco stepping ahead to open the door for you, not letting your hand go. The little bell chimes once more as you step outside, the chilly spring air engulfing you once more and sending a shiver up your spine.

“She said her grandson has been working with her, have you seen him?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him alright,” he mutters grumpily, scoffing more so to himself than to you.

You pretend you didn’t hear his grumbling, instead leaning on your toes and kissing his cheek sweetly. That seemed to bring him around as you watch a smile grace his lips.

You were just a few paces away from the car when you had seen it; a little street-side stand littered with an assortment of colorfully bloomed flowers for sale. Though Draco seemed to be one step ahead of you, his hand slipping from yours to cross the street with a few cautious glances. You smiled after him with a shake of your head, watching him go straight for the roses without hesitation. You eyed him digging around in his pocket for some change, handing it over in exchange for the single and pristine red rose he now had held between his fingers contently as he crosses the street and back to you again.

“Draco!” You say with a soft laugh, quickly captured in a breathless kiss as he gifts you the delicate flower. His breath puffs out in little clouds against the chilly air as he raises a brow.

“You can’t possibly have thought I’d leave without buying you one, can you?”

Your cheeks blush a soft scarlet as you grin up at him, leaning up on your toes to kiss him once more. He was ever the romantic at heart, though he likes to argue and insist that he is absolutely no such thing. However, currently you were desperate to divert his attention from your reddening cheeks.

“We’d better go before it rains on us.”

He hums softly in agreement, getting in the car with the cue of thunder rumbling through the gray sky. The sweet smell of the muffins had begun to seep through the paper bag they resided in, filling the car with the mouthwatering scent of blueberries and a hint of chocolate. You were tempted to delve into them in that very moment, though you quickly decided against it with the short commute. Even with that being said, Draco still enveloped your hand in his own no matter if you were two minutes from home or two hours. It was a sense of grounding that he’d worked into an absentminded habit.

You looked over at him fondly, the softest of smiles tugging at the corners of your mouth as you did so. His sleepy eyes flickered over the familiar town, his free hand draped over the top of the steering wheel. You admired him as you so often do, at the platinum locks tangling with dark lashes because there was no pressing need for it to be pristine any longer; he hadn’t wanted to get a haircut either. At the freckle adorning the very corner of his jaw, one you kissed so often you had lost count by this point. Even at the strands of hair stubbornly sticking out at the back of his head that he hadn’t cared to brush down before he left the house. Perhaps the cutest part was the way he sung ever so softly to the radio that had been on, the same muggle song stuck in his head for days.

He turned his gaze to you briefly when he turned on your street, having felt your stare much like he’d felt it earlier that morning just forty-five minutes prior. You look ahead with a smile and a deepening blush spreading to the tips of your ears, your home coming into view and allowing a reprieve from his playful yet inevitable teasing that was bound to be spoken.

As luck would have it, the patter of rain drizzled onto the windshield in delicate droplets before turning to an undesirable downpour in the span of five seconds. You look to Draco with a knowing smile, the keys clutched readily in his hand as he sighs and gives a nod.

“One…two…three!” You say simultaneously, making quick work of exiting the car and squealing as you did so.

You of course had gotten held up as he fumbled with the latch of the old iron gate because it never functioned when it was needed to, grabbing your hand and rushing down the mossy cobblestone pathway to your front door. You shriek in protest to the icy rain pelting against you, effectively soaking through your coat and warping the bag crinkled in your hand. He’d had a much easier time with the lock on the door, but you found yourself plucking a flower that had caught your eye before he had tugged you into your home and closed out the inclement weather behind you.

Bouts of laughter filled the otherwise quiet space, the familiar scent of pine and coffee wafting your way as the residual heat from the fireplace took the edge off. You stand there with a smile as he shrugs off his rain dampened coat, the gray sweater he wore underneath it doing nothing to help the way you wanted to kiss him.

“What?” He asks, his eyes narrowed curiously as he takes his shoes off.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you thrust the freshly picked hydrangea in his direction, water droplets beaded on its fluffy pink petals. A smile is on his lips as he takes it with a soft blush, pinching the stem between his fingers as he smells it briefly. “It’s only fair that I give you one too, right?”

He responds with a kiss, his hands settling on your cheeks as the dampened flower brushes against your skin lightly. His lips taste of his morning coffee and sugar and his hands were warm despite the cold temperatures, the ends of his hair tickling against your forehead.

He parts after another soft kiss is landed in yours lips, taking the paper bag and rose from your hand and setting them on the small table by the door before helping you out of your jacket and hanging it up with his own. You hadn’t made it more than a few steps into the living room before Draco’s hand tugged on yours, a laugh leaving your lips as he spun you around and pulled you close.

“Draco, I happen to be craving those muffins, you know,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“They can wait just a moment,” he says, tucking your dampened hair behind your ear. His eyes bounce over every inch of your face, lingering a moment or two longer on your lips before lifting to meet your curious gaze.

“What are you thinking about?”

He smiles softly with an airy laugh, resting his forehead on yours. A million thoughts had resided in his mind, and all of them revolved around you. The idea scared him, really. The thought of loving someone as wholeheartedly as he did you was a concept he hadn’t quite figured out yet, something he never thought he was capable of, never thought he’d have the chance to do. It was no longer a young love as teens, it is a love that’s become so deeply rooted in his heart, utterly unwavering and all encompassing. He never understood how he’d managed to grab ahold of a love like this, to be loved by someone like you. For you were nothing short of wonderful, you were all the beauty in the world in one person. And he felt as though he’d been unworthy of such affection, he was a Malfoy after all.

Malfoy’s hadn’t been known for acts of kindness and generosity. They were known for spite and selfishness; that thought invaded his mind more often than he’d ever care to admit. It’d been baffling, an idea he has yet to come up with an explanation for as to how he deserved to be loved so dearly, so intensely. He felt he didn’t deserve even a second glance from you, and he feels as though he shouldn’t bask in it too much for fear of it slipping right through his fingers. But he found he couldn’t help himself, not really, he loved you too greatly not to show it in every moment he could.

You were warm, you were impossibly kind, you were more courageous than he could ever be in ten lifetimes. You were his. Or perhaps he should say he was yours.

“I love you,” he whispers, his nose brushing over yours as his lips dip closer to yours. It’s so soft he thinks it might’ve gone unheard against the downpour pelting down outside.

His smile is unable to be contained as your soft laughter puffs against his lips, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Is that so?”

He nods ever so slightly without hesitation, his hum solidifying his answer. Your lips pressed to his softly, his smile disappearing into your kiss as your fingers tangle in platinum strands momentarily. A warmth blossoms in his chest and he feels as though his heart might burst with the way you make him feel, a quiet whine sounding in his throat when your lips pull from his all too soon.

“I love you,” you murmur, your eyes sparkling once more as you look up at him.

His fond smile soon quirks up into a lopsided smirk, extending his pinky between the two of you despite the close proximity. “Pinky promise?”

You raise an amused brow at him, a laugh leaving your lips again. Draco claimed pinky promises were for kids just that morning, a habit started in third year, but you knew for a fact that the seemingly childish action meant more to him than he’d care to admit. Regardless, you raise your pinky and link it with his own, his smile widening as he gazed down at you with a pale pink dusting his cheeks.

“Pinky promise.”

You break away from him with a whisper of a kiss, jovial laughter filling the house as you grab the long awaited bag of muffins and skipped off to the kitchen. He stared after you for a few fleeting moments as he shook his head with a smile.

It wasn’t a temporary love. It was a love to last.

—

Tags: @amourtentiaa @theweasleysredhair @hahee154hq @greenappledraco

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fic #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine

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