#Also he decided not to brew any potions before taking this picture so his hair wouldn't be streaky | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cursestothemoon · 3 years

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In Love With A Downright Git

Requested: yes

Fred Weasley x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: sexual themes, crude language, chafing, mentions of being unclothed, George Weasley in burgundy boxers with beater’s bats and snitches on them

Word Count: 7456

i got a tad carried away with this one but i loVE IT SO MUCH

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Fred watched as Y/n L/n gave a perfect demonstration in front of the class, Professor Snape clearly proud of the representation of his house. The potion, a bubbling sage green that smelled faintly of mint and dirt, was not what Fred was paying attention to. No, he was watching the way Y/n’s hair, pulled back into a ponytail, seemed to showcase her face perfectly. Her just barely arrogant smirk that was drawn so delicately on her features, eyes looking at her partner who was shaking her head at her with an annoyed smile. Fred thinks her name is Lily but isn’t sure, she never tickled his fancy, not like Y/n did.

“Thank you Ms. L/n. You may have a seat now, though I may implore you to assist others who might not have such a natural gift.” Snape sneered, his eyes moving to an unsuspecting Ravenclaw.

Y/n was making her way back to her table when she decided to make the detour to her favorite set of twins to gloat.

“Keep staring, Weasley, maybe you’ll learn something.” She smirked and Fred, as usual, had to ignore the need he felt to pull her lips onto his.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Y/n.”

She blushed, barely, but she did before rolling her eyes and making her way to her table.

The rest of the class went by rather quietly, Fred and George brewed a potion that smelled of roasted chicken and was an odd orange color. Y/n had been making rounds to tables that hadn’t quite understood the instructions but she was deliberately avoiding Fred and George.

“Freddie, bet you five sickles you won’t taste the potion.” George leaned over to whisper to Fred.

Fred scoffed as he looked at his twin, “You’re on.”

He dipped the end of his index finger into the potion and it came out covered in a thick goop that made Fred’s stomach turn a bit. However, he was never one to back down from a bet, especially if money was involved, and he stuck his finger in his mouth quickly before pulling it out with a pop. For further effect he gave George a stretched, close-lipped smile as he swallowed. There was a faint taste of tomatoes and something unnaturally salty, it wasn’t bad but he didn’t enjoy the experience.

“Wicked. How’d it taste?” George asked and the two broke into a conversation about the taste of the potion.

They hadn’t gotten far in their conversation when Snape called for a sample of the potions from each table. George was the one to pour their potion in a small tube before handing it to Fred to take to Snape.

“Oi, I can’t find the cap, make sure you snag one before you turn it in.” George called to Fred, who was already walking away.

Fred had turned to look at his brother as he talked, he gave an eye roll as he started to turn his body back to face ahead. Only he was too late and he ran right into something, or rather, someone spilling the contents of the potion.

“It’s in my mouth!” An unmistakable voice exclaimed.

Y/n L/n was standing in front of him, covered in an orange goop.

“Don’t worry, darling, I had some and nothing happened to me. You’ll be just fine.”

Lily had to grip onto one of the tables as she laughed at her best friend’s face of bewilderment.

“Why would you taste it?” Her eyes were wide with both worry and confusion.

Fred went to open his mouth to answer and realized how ridiculous it truly was but decided on telling her either way.

“George said I wouldn’t.” He shrugged.

She let out a groan before using her wand to clean herself up, also cleaning the splatter that had ended up on Fred’s robes while she was at. Y/n turned to leave the class before anything else could be spilled onto her, and Lily trailed after her, still unsteady with how much she was laughing at her grumpy face.

“Smooth, Fred.”

Fred turned to look at George who was also having trouble stifling his laugh, “Shut up.”

The pain at the top of his head was the first thing he felt, making him groan. He couldn’t tell if it was his head or his… hair that hurt. Fred reached a hand up to the top of his head where the pain was, but kept his eyes closed not yet wanting to fully wake up. His hand found his hair, rubbing at his scalp gently hoping to ease the pain but it seemed the more he moved his hair the more it hurt.

It was when he turned, his hair tickling his shoulder, that his eyes shot open. His hair couldn’t have grown that long within one night, could it? Most things in the room were still a bit out of focus from having woken up so abruptly, but it was the lack of blinding sunlight that usually flooded through the window in his dorm that made his mind race. Fred couldn’t remember going to someone else's dorm, instead all he could remember was falling asleep in his bed in his dorm. He remembers it clearly because he had chosen to wear socks to bed, much to George’s disagreement, because of how cold it had been in their dorm. He no longer had socks on.

His eyes seemed to focus better now, and he was facing a wall next to the bed. There were pictures hung up on it, frameless and unorganized. His face inched closer to the pictures and he noticed Y/n L/n was in most of them, the others had her friends. There was a picture of her on Draco’s lap, her hands holding his face to her chest as she squeezed his cheeks. Draco seemed to be annoyed with the girl but dealing with the harassment. There was another one, Lily and Y/n from the shoulders up in front of a lake. Fred realized they were most likely naked, seeing as their shoulders were bare and their smiles screamed of an adrenaline rush.

Fred realized he was probably in Y/n’s bed, seeing as now that he was paying attention it did smell like her. He closed his eyes and smushed his face into the pillow hoping to remember the night somehow, after all the years of pining and sexual tension he finally wound up in her bed and he can’t remember how. He rolled over and let his hands fall over his face, rubbing at his eyes, but something was off. His hands felt far too soft to be a beater’s, and they were smaller than he remembered.

Slowly, he opened his eyes as he held his hands up in front of his face. Fred let out a yelp as he saw, not his hands, no, he saw Y/n’s hands. Nails painted a dark green, and her usual bracelets adorned her wrists. He shot up, back rigidly straight as he sat in her bed, his head turning to see Lily starting to wake up.

“Quiet down would you?” Lily grumbled before moving to get up.

Fred watched as she moved to get out of bed, the blanket falling off of her giving Fred a view of her bra and underwear.

“No!” He yelped again before slapping his hand to cover his eyes.

“Are you on drugs? Genuinely, I’m asking because I’m worried.” Lily’s voice was annoyed, clearly not a morning person.

Fred didn’t know what to say. Not only did he have your hands, but he had your voice too and this was getting way too weird for him.

“Put some bloody clothes on, then we can start asking questions.”

Lily grumbled but it sounded like she was shuffling around before she gave him the ok. Fred slowly pulled his hand away from his eyes to see Lily in a sweater and shorts as she gave him a look of genuine worry.

“Where’s the mirror?”

“Over by the bathroom door, where it usually is.” She said slowly.

Fred stood up and nearly wobbled, he was a lot closer to the ground then he was used to. He rushed over to the mirror and gasped as he saw himself, or, Y/n staring back at him in a cropped grey shirt that she clearly fashioned herself, surely getting herself expelled if she were to wear it out of this room, and royal blue underwear.

It didn’t feel right to be looking at her body like this, and he turned abruptly before walking back towards her bed.

If he was here, in her body, did that mean she would be waking up to George’s snoring in his body?

Y/n woke with a jolt, her feet were uncomfortably hot and constricted. She wrestled the sheets to pull her legs out and take off the socks, she never wears socks to bed. She furrowed her eyebrows as she noticed her unnaturally large feet and long legs that were extremely hairy. Then she saw her hand, a large, rough, man's hand let out a short shriek as she jumped to stand but her long limbs got stuck in the sheets, she fell to the floor with a thump.

“Shut, the fuck, up.”

She looked toward the sound of the voice and saw a heap of red hair poking out from under a knit blanket, much like the one that had strangled her. She was in the boys dorms, and it didn’t look like any boy’s dorm that she knew. The walls were bright, reds and golds were everywhere, along with a lovely window. She wasn’t in the dungeons anymore.

Y/n looked back toward the boy in the bed and suddenly felt her heart stop for a moment, that red hair seemed awfully familiar.

“Fred?”

The body turned allowing her to see the face of the person.

“George!”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “You’re not starting to confuse too, now are you?”

“What?”

George sat up in bed, the blanket falling off his legs to reveal his burgundy boxers that had snitches and beater’s bats on them.

“George! You don’t have clothes on!” Y/n scolded him as she moved to stand up, looking away from him.

“Fred, you alright mate?”

Y/n stopped. He called her Fred, why had he called her Fred.

George noticed the way his supposed twin froze at the name, his eyes going wide, and he subtly slid his wand behind his back from under his pillow.

“When we were five I fell off of a broom we stole from Charlie, which bone did I break?”

She was stumped, obviously, not knowing the answer.

“I don’t-”

“Which bone, Fred?” The name had a standoffish emphasis as it rolled off George’s tongue.

“Your arm.”

George was quick as he shot up from his bed and shoved his brother into a wall, holding him there with his wand pointed in his face.

“Trick question, Fred was the one to fall and he broke his right leg. You’re not Fred.”

Y/n panicked, “I’m not, I’m not. It’s me, Y/n.”

It was the cold wall against her bare back that made her realize she was, in fact shirtless, only with long pajama pants on.

“I don’t have a shirt on you perv!” She shouted shoving George off of her to cover her chest.

Underestimating her newfound strength, she had shoved George a bit too hard and nearly pushed him back onto his bed.

“Y/n?”

She looked at George, popping a hip out with an attitude, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

George wanted to laugh, Fred or rather Fred’s body, was standing before him, hip jutted out and hands covering his pecks as he gave him a pointed look.

“So does that mean…” George started but decided not to finish the sentence at the look of horror that flashed over Fred’s face.

Y/n was horrified, if she remembers correctly she is not wearing any pants and now Fred was waking up in her body.

“Get dressed we need to go find me.”

“I know who you’re looking for.” Lily said matter of factly next to Fred.

He turned to her, his new long hair whipping around, “What?”

“Come on you do this everyday, you look for that Weasley boy and I tell you to get over yourself and just ask him out and you pretend like you have no idea what I’m talking about. Honestly, Y/n he looks at you just as much as you look at him, stop wasting time and hop on that.”

Fred nearly choked over what Lily insinuated and he was hoping the ‘Weasley boy’ in question was him.

“I don’t like Fred.” He answered, trying his luck.

Lily scoffed as she shoved a spoonful of cereal in her mouth, chewing and swallowing before answering him, “Yeah and I’m Dumbledore. Hop on that dick, Y/n, or someone else might beat you to it.”

“Hop on the- I-” Fred cut himself off as he saw George and...well himself, walk into the breakfast hall.

He got up and swung his leg over the bench, lifting his leg a bit too high not yet used to the shorter legs he was sporting, which caused Lily to pull his skirt down and cover his, or Y/n’s, underwear.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m gonna, I’m gonna go hop on that.”

“Atta girl!” Lily called, but he was already too far away to turn and respond.

He made his way to the Gryffindor table, and scanned the area for his brother and himself. It seemed as though they had disappeared into thin air as they were nowhere to be found.

“You!”

There she was.

Fred turned around coming face to… chest with himself. He angled his neck upwards to look into his own eyes and it was the most peculiar thing to see himself as someone else would.

“I’m hoping you are who I think you are.”

Y/n leaned down to reach Fred, who was in her body, “It’s me you bloody idiot, Y/n.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Fred grimaced.

Y/n scoffed before grabbing Fred’s wrist, well her wrist but considering the situation…, and pulled him out of the breakfast hall with George following.

“Fix this.” She said once reaching a vacant corridor.

“I don’t know how.” Fred answered honestly.

She threw her head back as she spun in place, a deep groan coming from her lips, “I am tall, and gangly, and- a ginger!”

Fred scoffed, “You think that’s bad? I’m about a foot tall, wearing a stupid bra. Why do you wear these anyway they are so uncomfortable, and don’t even get me started on how crude your friend Lily is. She told you to, and I quote, ‘hop on my dick’. What’s that about?”

“Bloody hell…” Y/n felt herself blush as she heard what Lily told him, but her attention was soon stolen by something else.

“Fred, why don’t you have stockings on?”

Fred looked down at his legs, now shorter and out in the open, “Why do I need stockings?”

Y/n gave a short chuckle, “You do have shorts on underneath, right?”

Fred shook his head.

“Well, you’re gonna start chafing. So thanks for that.”

Fred, not really caring at the moment, shook his head, “We’ve got bigger issues.”

“Like what? What could be a bigger issue than this?” Y/n said exasperated.

Fred scrunched his face, avoiding eye contact as he said, “I have to pee.”

“No you don’t.”

George let out a loud laugh at this, otherwise staying silent through the entire ordeal.

“Listen class is starting, Fred and I have all our classes together so you’ll have me to help you out, Y/n. And Fred… good luck mate.”

“What? No, I can’t go to class alone! She has runes first, I cant go to runes alone!”

“How do you know-”

George cut her off, “It’s one day, you’ll be fine. We meet here at lunch.”

Everyone agreed, a few grumbles sounded, then they were all on their way.

Y/n walked alongside George, her hips swaying awkwardly as she moved.

“Why are you walking like that?” George asked, noticing her odd gate.

She gave a distracted answer as they reached their first class, and took a seat uncomfortably.

“I usually don’t have anything between my legs when I walk, so this is all a bit new to me. Excuse the learning curve.” She was frustrated, and George couldn’t help but snort at her annoyed face.

Fred on the other hand was having a very rough beginning to his day, between the cat calls in the halls that truly got extremely annoying, he had now understood why Y/n was so worried about chafing.

He was walking back to the meeting spot with his legs as far apart as he could get them so the insides of his thighs wouldn’t touch, and his bra was itchy and poking at his back, and it was all a lot to handle at the moment.

The vacant corridor was still vacant, meaning he was the first to arrive. He sat down on the floor, knees bent and apart hoping to relieve the now red and bumpy skin that had chafed.

“Ms. L/n, close your knees and sit like a lady!”

Fred felt his blood boil, if he was told to do anything like a lady one more time he’d lose it. But for now he quietly grumbled as Professor Mcgonagall left him alone, closing his knees as he complained.

Just in time, he turned his head to see George and Y/n walking up to him, both of them laughing at something she had said. The sight further irritated Fred, and he got up quickly.

“Why are you walking like that, mate?” George asked as Fred hobbled over to them, laughing as he had asked the same question to Y/n.

He gave a sarcastic laugh, “I’ve started chafing.”

Y/n stifled her laugh as she saw the dangerous look Fred gave her, her own eyes narrowing at herself was quite the sight.

“We are going to our dorm, and fixing this I don’t care about what classes you have next. And I’m taking your bra off the second I get there.” Fred stated before walking away, Y/n and George following after him after sharing a look.

They were on their way to the Gryffindor towers when Cormac McLaggen caught sight of them.

“Oi, Y/n, why so angry, love? Need me to make it better?” The comment made Y/n cringe but it was Fred who was fuming.

The mix of jealousy, annoyance, frustration, and the stupid chafing was not a healthy concoction and Cormac felt its wrath.

“I’ll shove your broom so far up your ass, it’ll be coming out of your nose McLaggen. Don’t talk to me again, or I’ll make sure there’s room for two up there.”

Y/n rushed over to Fred’s side and wrapped a long arm around her own shoulders, pulling Fred away. George, at this point, was enjoying this far too much and thought it would be quite funny if they never changed back.

The rest of the way to their dorm went by as smoothly as it could, and soon they were alone in the dorm and the door was locked.

Fred wrestled with his shirt, untucking it aggressively before reaching under his shirt and trying to take the bra off. Never having to take a bra off himself before, he was unable to do and nearly shouted profanities before Y/n put a shoulder on his hand.

“Here, calm down, just don't get any ideas.” She muttered before reaching her hand inside his shirt and unclipping the bra.

He felt like he could breath as the bra loosened around him, and Y/n helped instruct him on how to slip off the loops through each arm hole.

“Thanks.” Fred muttered.

Y/n nodded, “Sorry I can’t help the chafing, any spell I could use wears off pretty quickly.”

Fred nodded and decided that not having an itchy bra on was enough, and sat down on the bed.

“As lovely as that was, we need to figure out how this happened and how to fix it.”

Both Y/n and Fred nodded.

“Also,” Y/n started, “I have to pee now too.”

George pointed towards a door, “Bathrooms there.”

“Alright let’s go.” Fred said walking to the bathroom.

Y/n gave a look of confusion, “Where are you going?”

“To help you.”

She laughed, “I think I can handle this, thanks.”

“I nearly fell in the toilet today trying to pee with my eyes closed, and you’re just going to go in there and ‘handle it’? Wanna see me naked that bad huh?” His tone was cocky as he smirked up at her.

She gave a sarcastic laugh, “You wish, and I have to pee, so if we could please speed up this argument.”

“Fine just don’t - be gentle I take pride in-”

“Yeah, alright I’m going.” Y/n said cutting Fred off.

He was slow to move from in front of the bathroom door, still trying to keep his thighs from touching, so Y/n took matters into her own hands… or well Fred’s hands. Fred let out a yelp as he was lifted off the ground and moved out of the way, George’s giggles sounding from the otherside of the room.

Fred gave him a look, “Shut up.”

The three of them brainstormed theories as to why Fred and Y/n had switched bodies, all of them coming up empty. It was the most peculiar thing, it wasn’t like polyjuice, they hadn't changed their own bodies to look like the other, they were the other.

Lee, their roommate, was also let in on the secret seeing as he had to sleep in this room tonight. He wasn’t aware of it beforehand, having spent the night with his girlfriend the night before and didn’t have the luxury of waking up to George tackling Fred to the wall.

“You can’t think of anything, something you both ate or drank. Maybe someone who wanted some revenge?” Lee asked, looking between Fred and Y/n.

Fred looked at Y/n as he shook his head and she thought before answering, “No, not rea-”

“Oh we are all so dense.” George laughed as had a look of realization.

Everyone looked at him questioningly but Fred was the one to speak up, “What are you getting at?”

George shook his head in disbelief, “The potion, Fred you tasted it and then when you ran into Y/n and spilled it on her she said she had gotten some in her mouth. You both had the potion that we made.”

“Georgie, you’re a genius! Please tell me you wrote down what we put in there.” Fred asked.

George nodded smugly, “Always do, the paper is in my textbook.”

He reached over to the book on the floor and pulled out the piece of paper showing it to everyone.

“We need to make another one. But tomorrow's Saturday and we don’t have potions until Tuesday.” Fred answered as his tone deflated.

Y/n shrugged, “I’ve got the spare key to Snape’s personal supply closet.”

They all turned to look at her in disbelief.

“You...what?” Lee asked slowly.

“Yeah, Snape gave me the spare key. I go in there and take inventory every Monday for extra credit, he lets me use them sometimes too. Doesn’t ask questions.”

Lee gave a chuckle of relief, “I thought you were sleeping with him!”

“Excuse me?” Y/n asked, thoroughly disgusted.

Fred was the one to speak up, “Well, you always had the highest marks in his class, and we saw you going in the direction of his class on multiple occasions late on Mondays so…”

His voice trailed off realizing just how rude it sounded, and his gut turned when he saw the way Y/n slumped, her eyes turning glossy for a hair of a second. In that moment Fred wasn’t watching his own body slump, Y/n’s raw emotion had broken through his exterior and he could’ve sworn he just saw her.

“And it never occurred to you that maybe I get the highest marks because I’m just good at what I do. A natural talent, no of course not I had to be sleeping with the greasy professor because there is no way for me to be smart enough to actually earn the marks I get. Forget practice and dedication, I’m just some whore who opens her legs instead of doing honest work.”

She felt herself getting angrier as she continued, and Fred just felt worse along with George and Lee who had their heads lowered avoiding her gaze. But that didn’t matter because what they thought didn't matter, no, she was looking at Fred. She was speaking to Fred because she had feelings for him and put him on such a high pedestal in her mind and he just saw her as an easy girl, a body and nothing more.

Fred felt the heat of her stare and he wanted to the ground to swallow him whole.

“Y/n-”

She cut him off quickly, “No. We are going to make the potion, fix this, and after that don’t bother speaking to me.”

Y/n stood up and grabbed a sweater that was on Fred’s bed and threw it at him, “Put it on. Sorry to ruin your image of me but I’d rather not have everyone see me braless in a disheveled shirt.”

Fred nodded and didn’t say much else as he threw on his own sweater, the material baggier than usually making his hands disappear in the sleeves. George and Lee looked at him, asking what to do next and he just motioned for them to follow.

Awkward silence ate away at Fred, George, and Lee as they made their way to the dungeons. Y/n wasn’t feeling it, too busy trying to keep the tears at bay, she didn’t care about how awkward they felt.

They made it to the entrance of the common rooms and everyone looked at Fred expectantly.

“What?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “You need to go in, I can’t just walk in as Fred Weasley and expect everyone to be ok with it.”

“Right, where are the keys?”

“Inside my dorm there is a trunk on the right side of the room, that’s my trunk, the keys should be in there in a small black drawstring pouch. Get them and leave, don’t talk to anyone.”

Fred nodded and walked to the three skulls on the entrance to the common room.

“Pureblood, that's the password. Say it to the skull that has the snake going through its eyes.”

He looked at each snake, the one in the middle having a snake going through each eye hole and out the mouth. He leaned forward slightly and said the password causing the door to swing open slowly. He walked through and the door closed behind him loudly.

Fred made his way through the common room, people were scattered around doing different things and there was a quiet buzz as everyone talked. He remembered the way to her dorm, seeing as he had to leave it this morning, and quickly found his way. It was empty now, and was significantly darker than before. His hand reached to the back of the skirt he was wearing, finding Y/n’s wand tucked into the waistband. He didn’t have anywhere else to put it earlier considering she didn’t have any pockets.

He cast a quick spell, making all the hanging lanterns in the room grow a bright flame illuminating the room pleasantly. Fred took a moment to look around as he dwelled on what had happened earlier. He had really mucked up his chances with Y/n, he was sure of it. He knew the rumor was stupid and quite literally created by Lee and himself after getting drunk one night. Fred was ranting about how he couldn’t get her to fall at his feet like everyone else and Lee mentioned something about Y/n having someone else. Fred was the one to jokingly say Snape and they just ran with it since then, it had made him feel better when she showed little to no interest in him. He thought everything fit, you were Snape’s favorite and the man never had favorites, obviously Fred had overlooked your actual skill in class to make himself feel better. Now he’s regretting ever saying it, a childish, mindless thing to do and he’s just glad he hadn’t blabbed about it to anyone else outside of Lee and George.

He brought himself back to the task at hand and got to his knees in front of the trunk and opened it. There weren't many things in it, a few folded clothes and a shoe box of pictures. He found the small black pouch in the middle of it all, lying on a stack of pictures and opened it making sure the keys were in it before setting it down next himself before looking back at the pictures. There were a plethora of different ones, some taken with a muggle camera and others taken with a magical camera and his curiosity got the best of him.

Fred thumbed through a few before finding one of just Y/n. She was looking at him, eyes sparkling with mischief, before she rushed forward puckering her lips and then leaning back laughing. He turned it around looking for writing but found none, it was clear someone else had taken the picture and he couldn’t help but feel envious of the person behind the camera who got to see her act so goofy and carefree.

Realizing people were waiting for him he closed the trunk quickly and stood up, tucking the wand into his waistband then folded the picture and tucked it on the other of his waistband before grabbing the pouch and leaving.

He had almost made it back to the door until he heard your name being called, he turned toward the voice and it was none other than Draco Malfoy.

“Could you help me with my potions essay?” His voice was lacking the usual mocking tone, it was earnest and quiet, he seemed embarrassed.

“Uhm…”

Draco got closer, lowering his voice, “It’s just, Professor said you’re really good and you know if I don’t get my marks up in potions my father will skin me.”

His frantic eyes made Fred panic, he was torn between laughing at him and feeling bad but he knew he couldn’t do anything of substance now.

“I need to go… take inventory of Snape’s supplies. Can I help you tomorrow?”

The blonde perked up before trying to calm himself, regaining his cool demeanor Draco nodded then left to join his friends again.

Fred let out a sigh of relief, rushing out of the common room hoping not to come across any more Slytherins.

“Alright, give me the list, you guys keep watch.” Y/n instructed the others as they stood outside the door to the supply closet.

Fred saw this as his chance to talk to her alone about the Draco incident, not feeling like he should mention it in front of George and Lee.

“I’ll help you.”

Y/n shook her head, “No, it’s fine.”

“If Snape shows up and sees me in there I think we are going to have a bigger problem. But if I’m with his favorite student Y/n L/n, the punishment will be a lot less severe.” Fred bargained.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Y/n unlocked the door and walked through, Fred following her. She handed Fred a small sack she had gotten from somewhere and he held it open as she silently put in all the ingredients they needed, along with a cauldron.

“I ran into Malfoy. You’re helping him with his potions essay tomorrow.”

She froze before starting to look for another ingredient, “Alright, is that all he said?”

“More or less.” Fred mumbled watching as she went rigid.

The silence returned and Fred shuffled in his spot as she put in the last ingredient they needed. She walked out of the room making Fred follow her, bag of ingredients in hand.

Fred, George, and Lee watched as Y/n made the potion quickly, sitting on the floor of their dorm. It was mesmerizing the way she worked, her movements were confident and sure, hardly ever needing to look into the textbook to make sure everything was used correctly.

“You’re really good at that.” George complimented, his tone showing his amazement.

Y/n was monotone, “Thanks.”

Fred grimaced at the guilt settling uncomfortably in his gut, watching as she gave the potion a few more stirs then stopped. It was the same goopy orange color that had the smell of roast chicken.

“That’s it.” Fred confirmed looking at the cauldron.

Y/n nodded, “Alright, since most of the ingredients have a membrane that has touch sensitive properties, that means the potion will probably only work if we drink it the exact same way we did the first time. I could be wrong but better safe than sorry.”

Everyone agreed and soon Fred and Y/n were standing in front of each other with Y/n holding the cauldron. She made a face before dipping her finger into the orange goop then putting in her mouth, making a face.

“Alright now you have t-”

He was cut off by the goopy potion hitting his face and clothes.

“I remember.”

Fred nodded knowing he deserved that and licked his lips getting the potion in his mouth before using her wand to clean everything up.

“We have to fall asleep now.” Y/n concluded.

“Alright, you can take my bed. I'll sleep on the floor.”

Fred wasn’t open for debate as he moved his mum's knit blanket and a pillow onto the rug beside his bed, making himself a nice little spot there. Y/n didn’t want to talk any more, so she was fine with not arguing and grabbed his pajama pants she had woken up in and walked to the bathroom to put them on. When she was out of the room, Fred pulled the picture he had snatched from her dorm and slid it into his trunk while he pulled out clothes for himself to wear. Y/n walked out of the bathroom as Fred closed his trunk and walked silently to his bed, Fred went to change, coming out later in a pair of his clean boxer shorts and his green sweater with a letter F on it. Everything was far too big on him then he was used to, and it was odd wearing his boxers with underwear but he respected her far too much to just strip her naked when she had no say in it.

When he came out everyone was already in their beds, the air dense with awkwardness as he slid into his blankets on the floor. Y/n was already asleep, seeing as her breathing was even and shallow as she was curled on her side with her back facing Fred.

The next morning Fred woke up, his feet cold and back… not as sore as he’d expect from laying on the floor. Realizing he wasn’t on the floor anymore he shot up and looked at his hands, they were his hands, and his face was his, and he was back in his body. Then looked onto the floor hoping to see Y/n’s body, but instead being met by his folded sweater and boxers and her own clothes missing. She had left earlier, and Fred should have expected it. She made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him but the empty spot still stung. Quietly, as to not wake George and Lee, he walked over to his trunk and got out the picture he had stolen from her dorm. He crawled back into bed and watched her laugh and smile and pucker up at him as his thumb came up to trace the edge of her cheek on the paper, slowly falling asleep with the picture clutched in his hand.

George pretended not to notice the picture when he woke up later.

The next few weeks for Y/n were miserable. She had to first deal with Lily’s rapid fire questions about where she was and why she was showing up to their dorm after missing an entire night, but she assuaged her questions with a look of sadness and defeat. Lily asked no more questions, instead holding her friend as she cried, making Lily assume it was Fred Weasley who had something to do with this.

Y/n ignored both Fred and George in the classes she had with them, and was uncomfortable each time she had to ask Professor Snape a question or if she was called on to help him do something. The admittance of them thinking she was sleeping with the teacher made her self conscious everytime she interacted with him. Fred noticed the change, Snape was always quick to ask Y/n to demonstrate something or help others but after she rejected his offers a few times he stopped doing so.

Fred also missed the witty banter he and Y/n would have, the way she was so smug and confident in her teasing comments to him. Now she avoided him, hardly able to make eye contact as they passed in the halls or in class and George noticed the toll it took on his brother. He had become fully absorbed in watching Y/n from afar, making sure she was alright and no one was bothering her, and the picture of her hardly ever left his grasp. George also noticed Fred sneaking away ingredients from potions class, but deciding against asking Fred about it preferring to have him tell him when he was ready.

It was two months now since the incident when Fred ran around the castle trying to find Y/n. He was out of breath, the container he had neatly put a twine bow around accompanied with a square tag was getting slippery in his hand, and he was about to give up and try again tomorrow when he caught a glimpse of her leg hanging out of a tree that was by the shores of the Black Lake. He caught his breath before making his way to Y/n.

“What is it with you Slytherins and sitting in trees?” He called, tone cautious yet playful.

Y/n didn’t flinch and Fred realized she had probably seen him coming and was hoping he wouldn’t be able to find her, and his smile faltered as she refused to look at him.

“I made you something.” He said, getting her to turn to look at the container as he set it down at the base of the tree.

She stayed silent, looking at the lake once again as Fred shoved his hands into his pockets.

He took his opportunity and slowly rocked back and forth before starting, “I’m sorry about everything. I never really thought you were, it made me feel better to think so lowly of you when you didn’t swoon at my every word. It was stupid and ridiculous and I’m sorry, Y/n. I like you, a lot, and I didn’t know how to handle you not sharing my feelings. Being you, having to deal with the calls and names in the halls, I would get angry and jealous. I thought they were disgusting and I never realized I was just the same as them.”

Fred paused, watching as a slow tear rolled down her face before she quickly wiped it away.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly and went to walk away before he heard her voice.

“You were wrong.” She stated quietly, Fred staying silent hoping she would continue.

“I always liked you, I thought you were funny and charming. I always thought so highly of you, Fred, and you thought I was shagging a teacher for better marks.” Y/n kept her eyes ahead, still refusing to look at him and her words were painful as they hit him.

Fred took in a breath, feeling incredibly stupid, “I’m downright git, aren’t I?”

Y/n didn’t answer and Fred turned around, knowing when he wasn’t wanted anymore, and made his way back to the castle. Y/n turned to see he was already out of earshot and she got down from the tree carefully before grabbing the container on the floor. The tag read:

‘Chafing balm, made it myself. Should work, I tested it on myself and there were no negative effects though I understand if you don't trust it. It’ll work for twenty four hours, I remember you saying nothing lasted long enough. Also it smells like vanilla, I didn’t know what you preferred so I went with my favorite. I hope this works. I remember how incredibly aggravating this was back when I was you.

All my love,

Fred Weasley.’

Y/n laughed as she opened the container and smelled it, only Fred Weasley would make something like this. She giggled remembering the way he was walking around as her with his legs apart and an angry face.

She then looked back to his retreating form, and he was just barely visible when she decided to go after him. Y/n sprinted in his direction as she called after him, but he was still too far to hear her. With a huff she sped up as much as she could and continued to shout his name, after the third shout he turned around and stopped.

Y/n caught up to him and took a few deep breaths as she took a moment to regain her composure.

“You are a pompous ass, Fred Weasley.” She stated, pointing at him. “Thinking you could win me over with some stupid chafing balm that you made, because if thats what you were thinking... it worked.”

It was a few seconds before Fred realized what she had said, “Come again?”

“It worked. I have been won over with a sickeningly sweet gift and I hate myself for it but there’s no use in fighting that I am head over heels in love with a downright git.”

Y/n gave a smug smile as Fred had the mischievous glint return to his eyes. He moved toward her quickly, arms going around her waist, pulling her into himself and crashing his lips onto hers. She returned the kiss making him let out a low groan, almost growl like, into her mouth making her give a short whimper.

The kiss was passionate and angry, all of their feelings flooding into the kiss making it was almost too intense to handle. Fred could remember all the times he wished he could do this, the times where all he wanted to do was grab her and hold her as his own. His hands came up to hold her face, in place as their teeth clashed. Fred grew fed up with the dull ache in his neck as he leaned down to kiss her. So he was quick to swoop down and slide his arm under the curve of her butt, making her jump and wrap her legs around his hips.

She broke away and her chest heaved as she looked into Fred’s eyes. They were brown, with different shades of caramel layered in his irises. Fred now had both hands holding her up as he took in the sight of her swollen lips, and heavy breathes, feeling incredibly proud of himself. Y/n reached a hand up to let her thumb run across his chin and jaw before slowly lowering herself to kiss him again.

Fred met her lips, and this kiss was far more reserved than the first. Both of them were careful with the other as their movements were slow and curious. He was the one to pull away this time making her give a quiet whine in protest before regaining composure and moving to stand on her own two feet.

“I think we have a date tonight, I’ll pick you up in front of your common room at 7:00?” Fred asked, a smirk coming to grace his lips.

Y/n nodded, suddenly shy under his gaze, “Yeah, 7:00.”

#Fred Weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #Harry Potter imagines

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wondernimbus · 4 years

Text

veritaserum — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

request: Hi I want to request a Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw reader please! a spell gone wrong makes Malfoy can say nothing but the truth throughout the day. Scared but too embarrassed to approach a teacher, he decided to go to y/n instead because she’s the top student of their charms class to help undo the spell but what he didn’t consider is how he would later straight out confess his attraction towards her, going on and on about her hair, her eyes, etc and they just share a heart-to-heart moment

a/n: i did Not proofread this so i apologize in advance if there r any typos!! also i made a v minor change to the req but other than that bon appetit

Someone spiked Draco's morning pumpkin juice.

It would have been really helpful if he'd noticed it before he laughed at Snape's face and called him a greasy git, after which his eyes grew comically wide and and he tried to hurriedly apologize (more out of fear for his parents than Snape)—only for his mouth to tell Snape to "go wash your hair for bloody once".

Veritaserum. Someone put blithering Veritaserum in his drink, and now he can't open his mouth without spitting out several of his deepest, darkest secrets.

"Two points from Slytherin for your uncharacteristic and very offensive behavior, mister Malfoy," Snape had sneered. "I will only tolerate this foolery once. The next time you dare to speak to me like that, I will not hesitate to treat you the same way I would treat any other student."

Draco would have tried to defend himself, but he isn't stupid enough to let another truthful insult slip out by accident, so he'd kept his mouth shut and nodded.

If one were to go into detail, they would tell you about how Draco had tried to ask Madame Pomfrey to help undo the potion's effects only to severely insult the poor old lady's hair, and how he'd also tried to ask McGonagall only to admit the fact that he'd cheated on her transfiguration test two years ago. He has insulted every single person he has tried to talk to so far during the day. He's called Crabbe an illiterate oaf, told a random Gryffindor couple passing by that they look absolutely dreadful together (something that he doesn't really regret blurting out, but he could have lived without letting them know), and admitted to Professor Flitwick that he'd paid someone to do most of his essays.

But if one were to put it simply, they would go like this: Draco is in a dilemma, and he needs help, fast.

Except he has severely offended every single person he has tried to ask for help, and will no doubt do the same for anyone he plans on asking. Draco is desperate. He is halfway through the school day and the effects of the truth serum have yet to wear off. At this rate, he's going to lose all of his friends, as well as lose his teachers' favor.

Draco can't ask a teacher in fear that all of his good grades will slip from his grasp at a single (honest) insult. He can't stick it out for the rest of the day, either, because when he spends too long a time not talking to anyone, it seems that the truth potion grows impatient and starts making him blurt out a bunch of his innermost secrets.

He has already shouted "I peed my pants when I was eight" in the Great Hall; there is no time to waste.

Potions class comes around right after breakfast and brings with it the inevitable need to face Snape again. Uncharacteristically enough, Draco doesn't swagger into the dreary dungeon classroom. Instead, he keeps his head down as he perches himself on his usual seat right—which is, of course, right in front of Snape's desk.

When the last of the students have filed in and Snape closes the dungeon door shut to begin the lesson, he makes sure to fix Draco with a long stare; one that Draco only holds for several seconds before he sniffs and casts his eyes away to look at his desk instead. You'd think that a Potions master would be able to tell when someone was under the influence of a truth potion—but then again Snape might also have known, but was too offended by Draco's jab about his hair.

He looks up sometime along the lesson and catches sight of the light reflecting off of Snape's greasy hair; well, Draco had been telling the truth.

For today's lesson, they're tasked to brew some sort of calming draught. Draco can't entrust Goyle—his partner—to even as much as get the name of the potion right, so Draco shoots the poor boy a familiar scowl and proceeds to do everything on his own. But Draco is no Potions expert, so instead of the faint lilac hue the liquid inside their cauldron is supposed to have turned into, it becomes a violently bubbling pink substance.

"Four slices of the bat spleen, mister Malfoy, not five," Snape drawls, peering down at Draco's cauldron through his hooked nose. "And you have been too heavy-handed on the lavender. Shame. I expected better."

Draco suppresses a sneer. Snape usually never points out his mistakes—that sort of treatment is reserved for other houses. Snape, it seems, took his insult to heart, the greasy-haired bloke.

Feeling severely irked, Draco slumps down in his seat, folds his arms over his chest, and stops trying entirely. He may be acting like a sulky five-year-old but so be it because Draco is not in the mood. He has humiliated his own self far too many times in one day (and been humiliated by Snape approximately ten seconds ago)—he wants this day over, fast, and with any luck, the Veritaserum out of his system by the end of it.

But he can't see how, so Draco does the only thing that he can do to help himself: he keeps his mouth shut.

The annoyance on his face shows as he surveys the dungeon room with a sour glare. Stupid Potter and Weasley are laughing over something at their shared table; why isn't Snape telling them off? Bloody slimeball. How dare he even speak to Draco like that? It's not like Draco lied. He has never seen anyone in such dire need of shampoo as Snape.

Draco shoots the back of his head a nasty glare from where he's standing all the way on the other side of the room, looming over a table of two Ravenclaws. One of them looks bored and the other seemingly immersed in potion-making; her movements are quick and precise as she pours one ingredient after the other into their cauldron with the same kind of effort Draco would put into making his afternoon tea—like what she's doing is an absolute piece of cake.

"Sit up, mister Corner," says Snape curtly, voice echoing throughout the dungeon and ceasing all chatter as he fixes the bored-looking Ravenclaw with a stony gaze. Draco recognizes him now—Michael Corner, some annoying half-blood he shares a few classes with. As for the girl beside him.. Draco tries to angle his head to see her properly, but her head is bowed over her cauldron and her hair blocks her face from view. "If you think you'll be getting the same outstanding grade as miss [Y/L/N] without even as much as lifting your pinky finger, then I assure you, you are terribly mistaken. I do not tolerate free riders."

[Y/N]. Draco knows her. Some Ravenclaw he has several classes with but has never spoken to—the one with the pretty eyes, Draco vaguely recalls himself thinking at one point, back when he'd first laid eyes on her. And truth be told her eyes are pretty; a lovely shade of [Y/E/C] that Draco has only seen up close once or twice.

But that is hardly the topic of concern, because if Draco turns his head just the right way and sits up a little straighter, he can see that the liquid inside of her cauldron has turned a glossy shade of faint lilac, which, according to the instructions written on the board, is what is exactly supposed to happen. [Y/N] finishes faster than anyone else, even Hermione Granger, and Draco sees Snape give her an appraising nod before moving on to criticize some other innocent student.

So it seems Snape isn't the only Potions expert in the room.

He perks up a little in his seat and fixes the Ravenclaw girl—[Y/N]—with a discreet stare out of the corner of his eye. [Y/N] sits down properly in her seat so that Draco gets a good view of her face (not a bad-looking one, an annoying little voice says inside his head). She hasn't even broken out in a sweat—it seems that potion-making isn't as difficult for her as it is for other people. Draco pictures the truth serum in his veins quivering in fear (although physically impossible) because he is pretty certain he's found the answer to his dilemma.

The rest of the class passes by annoyingly slow—or at least for Draco—because it seems like ages until Snape finally dismisses them for lunchtime. Draco just about jumps right out of his seat and strides straight towards [Y/N], who is currently in the process of stuffing her books inside her bag.

Draco clears his throat.

She turns around, and he's suddenly reminded of why he'd dubbed her as "the one with the pretty eyes", because she truly does live up to the name. Her eyes are strikingly [Y/E/C]; even the whites of her eyes look like they're tinted with gold. He finds himself incapable of speech for a brief moment, but then she raises her eyebrows and offers him a grimace of a smile, and Draco is back to himself again.

He opens his mouth to say "brew me something that'll stop me from blurting out the truth every bloody second" but instead what comes out is: "I've never spoken to you before but that's mostly because I have an irrational fear that I haven't quite admitted to myself yet which is that I'm scared of talking to pretty girls in fear that they'll reject me and my pride will be in tatters."

There's a split-second in which Draco stands there, his own words not having sunken into him yet, and then his face slacks.

[Y/N] stares at him, evidently baffled. And then she opens her mouth, eyebrows furrowed in apparent bewilderment, and says, "Um," she swallows, forcing out an awkward laugh as she takes a step back. "Wow. Okay. Thank you..?"

If Draco had been thinking straight—if he hadn't been so flustered and if he wasn't rushing to take back his words—he would have probably paused, realized that talking would have made the situation worse, and left. But Draco is flustered and he isn't thinking straight, so instead he opens his mouth to take his words back only for the following words to leave his mouth in a rapid burst: "Your eyes are a really lovely shade of [Y/E/C] and you have a beautiful smile and I've never heard you laugh before but I bet my inheritance that it's one of the loveliest sounds to ever exist."

[Y/N] looks flabbergasted more than ever. She doesn’t even look flustered—just utterly confused. For a few seconds, all she does is stare at him, frowning.

And then, looking as though she wants to thank him but not entirely sure it would be appropriate, her gaze darts away from his momentarily before she purses her lips. Excruciatingly slowly, she repeats, “Your.. inheritance.”

Draco grits his teeth.

Apparently there are several truths that the Veritaserum in his system thinks appropriate to reveal to [Y/N]—truths that even he hadn't been fully aware of. He opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and closes it again. At that moment he catches sight of the quill and parchment in her hands that [Y/N] had been in the process of stuffing into her bag; hurriedly, he grabs it from her (much to a surprised [Y/N]) and begins to write down the following words (seriously, why hadn't he thought of this before?): accidentally drank truth potion, brew me a remedy.

He practically shoves the parchment into her hands. Still looking wildly confused, she takes it from him with the cautiousness of someone being handed a firecracker. Her eyes dance across the words on the paper for no more than two seconds before she looks back up at him; realization slowly floods her face and her eyebrows rise even higher as she mouths, mostly to herself, "Truth potion."

Draco nods, eyes darting around the classroom. most of the class has already left. Snape is at his desk, fixing the two of them with a frosty stare. When Draco meets his gaze, Snape flicks his eyebrows up at him and asks, in that same drawling voice Draco despises today, "I was under the impression that lunch time meant all students had to be at the Great Hall."

Draco's brain doesn't operate well when he's annoyed—that's something he's realized today. Against his better judgment, he opens his mouth to sneer a retort without even pausing to think about the fact that he might blurt out some other offensive truth, but [Y/N] cuts him off and says, "I'm sorry, professor, but Malfoy's asked me to help him with homework and I thought it'd be nice to help him." She stuffs the piece of parchment into her robe and side-steps Draco so that he's not blocking her from Snape's view. "Would it be okay if we stayed here for lunchtime?"

Snape's lip curls in apparent amusement. Staring at Draco, he drawls, "That’s quite convenient. I had been thinking of assigning mister Malfoy a tutor; it seems he's been having trouble holding his tongue—alas," his mouth twists into a sneer, "I meant potion-making. Forgive me."

And then he heads to the dungeon door, leaving Draco behind to stare at his greasy head on his way out.

[Y/N] purses her lips, cheek twitching with the threat of a smirk. "I’m guessing you've offended him somehow? Veritaserum and all?"

Draco opens his mouth again—really, remembering to keep it shut is easier said than done—and instead of the reply he'd been intending on saying, what slips past his lips is: "Has anyone told you you're one of the prettiest—"

"Okay!" [Y/N] 's eyes widen and she rushes to clamp her hand over Draco’s mouth, looking actually flustered now. "Okay—stop. Just.." Slowly, she pries her hand away from his lips, movements cautious, and Draco stares at her, body completely rigid as he registers the fact that they're a mere few inches away from each other and she'd just put her hand over his bloody lips. And this is the first time they've ever spoken to each other.

"I’ll brew you the remedy," she says, grimacing. There seems to be a hint of a faint pink blush spreading across her cheeks, but that could just be because the dungeon lighting is poor. She turns on her heel and makes her way to the ingredients cabinet all the way on the other side of the room, calling over her shoulder to Draco, "Just sit tight there—and keep it zipped before you say anything you don't mean."

The last part she says in a quieter tone, but Draco catches her words anyway and he finds himself thinking that maybe he did mean them.

Because [Y/N] is pretty—prettier than most. She’s not breathtakingly beautiful, but there's something about her that seems to have always drawn Draco, though he might not have ever thought much of it. Maybe it's why he always finds himself staring at her whenever they come across each other in the hallway. Maybe it's why he'd thought of asking her to the Yule Ball last year, but chickened out at the last moment.

He leans on the desk, arms folded across his chest whilst watching [Y/N] rummage through the ingredients cupboard. A moment later she turns around bearing an armful of different potion vials.

Draco means to ask her if she needs help carrying them (because yes, he may regularly be a prick but he has common courtesy). Instead, the Veritaserum still inside his bloodstream urges him to say, "I wish I’d asked you to the Yule Ball last year instead of Pansy."

He freezes.

At that moment, Draco swears to himself that he will inflict pain onto whoever poured Veritaserum into his pumpkin juice. He will have his revenge—no matter what it takes—and although he hasn't quite figured out how exactly he'll be doing it, all Draco knows is that he will.

He can't bring himself to look at [Y/N] any longer, so he plays it off by picking up a book on the desk he's leaning on and rifling through it. It only takes him a moment to realize that it's [Y/N]'s; her name is written across the bottom of the cover. Almost every page Draco flips through has tiny scribbles written in-between the lines—countless of notes, it seems, but so many of them that the actual text is almost indiscernible. Draco almost snorts. [Y/N] seems to be the quintessential Ravenclaw, if he has ever seen one.

She sets down the potions onto the desk, Draco still flipping through the pages. "I’d ask you how you accidentally drank Veritaserum," she says casually, "But I don't want you fawning over me even more than you already have."

Draco glances at her out of the corner of his eye. She’s in the process of uncorking two of the vials, both of which she pours into the now steaming cauldron. Whatever, he thinks to himself, rolling his eyes in an effort to convince himself that he's not embarrassed (even though he totally is: he's bloody blushing).

But then again, whatever. He’s totally not flustered. Totally.

Draco reaches the final few pages of [Y/N]'s Potions textbook without having even registered most of the ones he'd flipped through. The last two pages, like every other book, are completely blank save for the—

Draco's eyebrows furrow. There are drawings of all sorts on the back pages of her textbook, from cauldrons and brass scales to places in the castle that Draco recognizes.

But what has him most intrigued is the faces, all drawn so vividly and with so much detail they look as though they had been brought to life on paper. Draco sees Snape’s deprecating sneer and Michael Corner’s familiar face of boredom, sees Hermione Granger with her brows knitted together at the middle as she leans over her cauldron, Ron and Harry with their heads bowed over a piece of parchment—and then he sees himself, arms crossed over his chest as he fixes something with a stony gaze. But the more Draco’s eyes explore the pages, the more of himself he sees. There’s him slicing what looks like a dragon heart, scowling at someone that looks like Goyle, and another one of him smirking—

And then the book is snatched from his grasp by none other than [Y/N] who looks wildly panicky. "You—I—" she blubbers, gaping at him for a moment before whipping around, turning her back on him as she stuffs the book into her backpack. "How much did you see?"

Slowly, a grin breaks out on Draco’s face. "Enough," he says—and apparently it's the truth, because it's what he actually meant to say. A little surprised, he tries his luck again and means to say so you draw? But instead what leaves his lips is something so excruciatingly blunt and embarrassing part of him wants to dive under the table and hide there for the rest of his life: "I’m assuming because you've drawn me more than anyone else that you find me attractive so I’m going to go ahead and thank you for that, but unfortunately you're a half-blood so I might have to get my parents' permission before I think of asking you out."

A moment of silence, only interrupted by the sound of the antidote bubbling. Draco has to physically suppress himself from diving straight into the cauldron and never coming back out.

[Y/N] scoffs a little, uselessly fanning her face with her hand like doing so will somehow rid her of the blush on her cheeks. Draco grits his teeth and fixes his gaze on the stone floor, refusing to meet her gaze.

She clears her throat in an attempt to quell the sudden burst of suffocating awkwardness now resting between the two of them. Not quite looking at him, she peers into her cauldron and mutters, "I just like to draw all sorts of things. People, as you've seen," she adds, pressing her lips together abashedly. Draco watches her out out of the corner of his eye, lips twitching. "And I don't find you attractive. You just have.. a nice face. For drawing, I mean. It comes out nice on paper."

Draco’s eyebrows flick up of their own accord. He has a nice face. Are those butterflies he feels in his stomach, or is it just the Veritaserum?

It takes no more than a minute or two of silent awkwardness before the antidote is finally finished brewing and [Y/N] pours it into a small vial, which she hands to Draco.

Draco eyes it skeptically, holding the vial up to the light and swirling it around a little. It definitely doesn't look pleasant; a stark contrast to the clear hue of Veritaserum, the antidote is a murky brown in color and vaguely reminds Draco of mud and manure.

You expect me to drink this? Draco means to ask, but instead says, "You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen."

And just like that, Draco, exasperated and embarrassed out of his mind, uncorks the vial and takes a large swig.

The feeling of the liquid sloshing down his throat is an unpleasant one; he coughs a little, face scrunching up with disgust as he swallows down the last of the antidote. But not long after the vial is emptied, a tingly feeling spreads from his fingertips to his entire body and has him feeling weightless for a few moments before it fades and Draco feels normal again.

He sets the vial down on the table, rubbing his throat. When he looks up, he sees [Y/N] already cleaning up, throwing away the empty glass vials and emptying the cauldron with a single flick of her wand. She’s taking all of her things and shoving them into her bag, and Draco watches as she slings it over her shoulder and makes for the door—

“You’re leaving?” says Draco without really thinking about it. “Already?”

She stops in her tracks and turns around, already a few feet away from him. Eyebrows raised, lips twitching up at the side just the slightest bit, she shrugs. “Well, yes,” she purses her lips. “Was there something else you wanted me to brew?”

Draco’s hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck. “No,” he says hastily. But he hadn’t been expecting her to leave so soon—not after his, ah, countless confessions.

What had he been expecting, though?

“Well, I’ll be going now,” [Y/N] says slowly, a little awkwardly, gesturing to the door. Draco watches her as she takes a backwards step away from him—but he knows a chance when he sees one, so he blurts out, “D’you wanna go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Her eyebrows rise even higher as a genuine look of surprise floods her features. Draco doesn’t know what the bloody hell he’s onto, but whether or not he regrets it is entirely up to [Y/N]’s answer.

She lets out a breathless laugh, looking dubious. “You’re being serious?”

Draco stares at her for a little while—Merlin, she really does have pretty eyes—and then he shrugs a casual shoulder, nodding.

She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, but there's still that hint of a faint smile resting on her lips. Draco finds himself wishing he’d see her do it more often—in front of him, and not halfway across the classroom. She feigns a look of contemplation, tilting her head at him, now full-on smiling in a manner Draco thinks might be playful. (Alright, those are definitely butterflies in his stomach.) "And what d'you have to offer?" she asks him, eyebrows raised.

It’s Draco’s turn to narrow his eyes at her, unable to suppress the tiny smile that slides across his face. He pauses to think about his answer first, all the while holding her impish gaze, before finally shrugging and saying, "My company. And not everyone gets to enjoy that," he adds as an afterthought, and it's true—Draco is very picky with who he graces with his presence.

But then [Y/N] replies, "Well, not everyone gets to enjoy mine, either," and her tone is almost challenging. Draco, for some reason, finds himself on tenterhooks. Something about her is drawing him in; he can't quite decide whether it's her coyness or her eyes. Likely both.

Severely amused, he leans on the desk and inclines his head a little towards her. "So would you do me the honor of blessing me with your company this weekend?”

There’s a beat of silence—this time not at all awkward—as they stare at each other, a sort of tension between them that Draco finds himself enjoying. And it's a blessing that she breaks it because if it had stretched on for any longer Draco would have lost himself in her eyes completely; “Alright. Sure. No harm to it,” says [Y/N] with a light laugh, nodding.

Draco’s lips break out into a grin and he nods, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "Maybe you can tell me more about your drawings. Well,” he pauses, brows raised teasingly. "Drawings of me, to be specific."

She lets out a scoff, rolling her eyes, but she's laughing. "Okay—and maybe you can tell me about how much you love my eyes."

Draco’s face falls. [Y/N] grins, beginning to walk towards the dungeon doors. "I’ll see you around," she sings, and her back is turned but Draco can hear the smile in her voice. Just before she disappears into the corridor, she pauses at the doorway and looks back at Draco, and her eyes are positively sparkling. "Try not to get lost in my eyes too much. Wouldn’t want you tripping over yourself."

With one last playful grin, she leaves the Potions classroom.

And while, just a few minutes ago, Draco had been prepared to get revenge on whoever put Veritaserum in his pumpkin juice, now he feels like thanking them.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter oneshots #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy oneshots #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy #draco #malfoy

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damselofblueroses · 3 years

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The Name of the Rose, Chapter 4

Summary: Your study-buddy Doh Kyungsoo comes with you for a long-awaited trip to Tokyo, Japan. There is a tension between you, however both of you decided to build a friendship instead of a relationship.

Chapter Summary: Kyungsoo taught the Reader how she should be touched. After the lesson the Reader answers his question and tell him her observation about the lesson. (Note: This chapter is fucking long, so grab your drink before reading babes!)

Content: Unestablished relationship, AU, Hurt/Comfort, Anger, Slight Violence, Emotional Complications and Healing.

Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.

Note: This story was inspired by D.O.’s album, Empathy, the album of 2021 in my opinion. It is an ongoing mini project, I planned to write it as a one-shot when I started, however I realized there are a lot to say about Empathy Era and I cannot stop shut my mouth, or prevent myself from writing… So, here we go.

Chapter Word Count: 11.2k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4: I Am Gonna Love You

A gentle breeze puffed past the slightly open window, as it blowed the curtain, moonlight spilled into the room. There was dull light, coming from the top of the walls, casting a dim yellow tint along the carpet and bed.

A soft smile tugged at Kyungsoo’s lips.

You were glaring at him, to be honest, Kyungsoo felt a little bit exposed to you, but he was more than okey with being naked for you, all with his body, and soul. He was ready to give everything he had. Sometimes he believed that he must be crazy for loving you at this extent, definitely he had gone mad, there was no logical explanation of willingly being at your fingertips.

“We do not,” his voice was reminding you all the warm autumn nights you spent together, it was rich, baritone and velvety, your entire body stiffened as his index finger wandered around your face, from forehead to chin. “We do not do anything you do not want.”

You looked at him, forgetting how to blink. That bloody dim light painting him with a shiny halo, increasing his ethereal beauty and to your dismay, his already so-fucking-strong impacts on you. Sometimes you could not help but wonder if he has been knowing how he affected you or not. His eyes, fucking pair of big-doe eyes, chocolate brown and always full of emotions, skimmed over your face, you swallowed your heartbeat in the throat.

“I know.” you miraculously found your voice out of nowhere. With slow moving fingers, without noticing what the heck you were doing, you touched his upper lip.

Kyungsoo held his groan back, and his hands clenched into fists. He hated himself for his quick response to your touch, he wanted to keep himself as one fucking piece.

You took your hand back off him, hiding it behind your back, sagging against the pillows. A deep sigh emitted from both of you.

You were looking to each other, the silence invaded the room but this time it was different from before. This silence was like a messenger, it was not eerily or strange. Both of you were testing the waters, you were waiting for the one who was going to make the next move, but both of you were aware of the fact that this silence was nothing but an emissary.

An emissary that was telling your mutual desires for each other. Your dire needs and hopes.

He raised his hand, looking at you as asking for your permission, you forgot how to swallow but immediately shook your head from up to down. His lips formed as his fucking signature smile, heart shaped one, the type of smile which Kyungsoo gave only when he was really happy. Your breath stuck in your lungs, an unmistakable blush spread across your face, made its own way to your neck. He crawled towards you, his hands caressed your ankles and spread your legs enough to make a space for himself, sitting between your calves.

The little air which was left in your lungs left your body.

His closeness and warmness started to rile you up, if riling you more than now was possible. You could easily smell his perfume, fuelling your excitement that already brewing the potions in your lower stomach.

Kyungsoo had dangerously lingered in your mind since the first day you saw him.

And now he was sitting between your legs, and only God knew what the heck he was going to do. You knew you could not say no, fuck’s sake you just could not. If he wanted to teach you as you requested, you would say yes. If he wanted to just stay like this, you would say yes. If he wanted to take you over there, you would say yes.

You knew how dangerous your love for Kyungsoo was. You were always imagining him, Kyungsoo has been living with you literally and figuratively.

You did not say this to him, you would never ever, but it was always his name coming from your mouth when you think about the bases. There was no other option, Kyungsoo or no one.

You suddenly remembered the question that Baekhyun asked to you. Unfortunately, as Baekhyun would like to define, your Virgin Mary status, was a topic that the boys really liked to mock with you. However, once Baekhyun seriously asked you, if you could wish for someone ravaging you, who was going to be? As expected Baekhyun gave you a detailed scenario which made you terrified, ended up with a huge fight between you and Baekhyun, however when you were alone, you could not stop thinking about that scenario.

It was Kyungsoo.

The name was his name even when you thought that type of imagines.

It had been Kyungsoo, and it seemed, it was going to be always his name.

When that scumbag, the touchy one pressed his fingers onto your thighs, you did not like it because they were not Kyungsoo’s. You preferred to be violently murdered than admitting this, however when you were be back into the security of your room after that unlucky experience, the only question lingering in your mind was how you could response if those would be Kyungsoo’s fingers? What would you do if those bonny, pale, and sinewy fingers touching your thighs?

You were totally ignorant to the intimate relationships, if Kyungsoo would not be in the picture, you could be sure of you were not engaged to the desires and bodily needs. However, the reason of your hunger was sitting between your legs, and to your dismay you were more than aware of the calls of your body. God, did he have to sit this fucking close to you, enough to make his breathes hovering your hair? You could not tell if you wanted to throw yourself forward to his arms or pushing him to the mattress. God only knows what was going to be next, but your eyes coasted down his biceps, as taut as ever, and the fucking veins that were visible on his wrists appearing more than prominent as he gently held your ankles.

“Are you okey with this?” Kyungsoo pointed his position, smiling a little bit nervously. You inhaled sharply, then a sharp laugh fell from your lips.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you covered your mouth with your hand. Kyungsoo lifted his head, directed his gaze upon you, you wanted to beg him not looking at you with all the power of his eyes.

“No, I need to hear your words.” he slightly pinched your left calf. You tried to free your ankle from his iron grip in order to show your current discontent of his pinch, but your effort made him laugh, despite of his movements shuttered.

“I am okey.” you sheepishly whispered.

“Do you still want me to teach you?” he bit his tongue. While he was itching to teach you, -and to be honest, his inner peace was already destroyed after you asked him if he had feelings for you or not, he was dying to taste you, JesusfuckingChrist, he never had a piece of inner piece since you came into the picture of his life, he also refused to push you for any case. Whether you chose was going to be fine by him, he was not going to dig his own grave by insisting or shoving you.

“Depends.” you murmured. “Only if you do not make fun of me.”

“Why should I make fun of you?” Kyungsoo felt his heart churned. “You asked weird questions, first about leaving you, now about mocking you. Do I make you uncomfortable by any chance?”

“Yes.” you did not think about your answer, then registered to your word. Kyungsoo’s eyes widened, for the first time of his life, he could not find anything to say. He never think that he could be the reason of your discomfort. You quickly realized the meaning of your response, while you were swearing at your fucking useless brain, you took a deep breath. “I mean, yes, you do but not because of anything you do.”

“With all my respect to you,” Kyungsoo took his hands off your ankles. “May I ask what the heck you are talking about?”

“I can be uncomfortable when you are around,” your fingers brushed against each other. Kyungsoo realized that little habit of you, you always do this when you wanted to say something which really mattered to you. “Because sometimes your presence gives me heart attacks, Kyungsoo. I do not know to describe the feelings you cause in me; I am not an expert on the field, but what should I have to do when the only one I want to keep for myself is you?”

Your words caught Kyungsoo off his guard, turning him into a mummy who could not perform anything which were preserved for the human beings.

He never ever give himself the permission of hoping such as hearing these words from you.

“I thought I could control myself.” you let every miserable thought of you came out. “But I failed, I cannot press the feelings I have for you anymore. I know it sounds very poor, and I know how much popular you are.”

Kyungsoo heard himself as snorting, but still he was numb. You were peering him, as you have been expecting a response, a voice, a thing. However, Kyungsoo was not able to give anything, he was frozen, tearing off from his wit. He knew that you were going to get wrong deductions of his persistent silence, but his fucking voice was playing hide and seek.

Surprisingly, you continued to talk.

You realized that talking was refreshing and soothing the painful circles which had been staying in the darkest cliffs of your mind. Despite of your usual behaviour when it came to express how you feel, you decided to communicate with Kyungsoo.

Ride or die.

“I know we are friends, and I really afraid of losing you, but I am losing my fucking sanity, Kyungsoo. Day by day, you had been becoming the center of my thoughts. I thought I was better than this, I made all my effort to seal my fondness of you, but it drives me into crazy. Maybe I am just pathetic.”

Was it really your self-perspective? Kyungsoo wished you could perceive yourself from his eyes.

“You? Pathetic?” his voice was cracked, sounded like an old man. “Impossible.”

There was no hesitation in his face.

“You are quite opposite.” he finally managed to vocalize his thoughts. “If you were pathetic, I would immediately warn you.”

Your head was throbbing because of the hidden passion of his voice tone. His gaze became something irresistible, dawdling on your features, focusing on your pinkish lips.

“Thank you, Soo.” you vaguely smiled. This was Kyungsoo being coddling, as Kyungsoo could possibly be. He fucked the things up, then popped in front of your door, pressed you to the wall, had a shitty conversation, nested between your legs, and in the end, told you his opinion of being pathetic or not by pointing he would scold you as he generally did.

“If you would be pathetic,” he continued. “I cannot be so adamant to be close to you. I would be lying if I say I do not want to be with you. Always.”

It was your turn to lose the trail of thoughts.

“You are not the only one who has feelings.” an eerily laugh followed his words. “And you are not the only one who is afraid of losing what we have. Maybe we are both pathetic, who knows? But I am sincere when I tell you that I have interests in you.”

Silence hovered in the air, you watched his face while he was standing in front of you, refusing to take his eyes off you. You knew he was honest as always, he always said what he thinks, what he believes even it could be hurtful.

If your feelings would be platonic, despite of the sake of your friendship, Kyungsoo would tell you at once.

You leaned forward, you reached to his face, his brows were knitted.

“We are idiots, you know that, right?” you smiled to him.

“We always have been.” he assured you with a serious face. You wholeheartedly laughed. “By the way, is it sake or you I have been talking with?”

“I am sober as fuck.” you chuckled. “You?”

“I did not drink as much as you did, you filthy drunkard.” Kyungsoo quickly shifted between moods. “I am abstinent, abstemious and sober as a judge. However, I do not want to hear those poor self-thoughts from you. Never again.”

His fingers lightly stroked your lips. Your breath stuck in your throat, you lost counting how many times you lost yourself in his touch tonight. Anyone else could consider his tone intimating, but you knew Kyungsoo well enough that he really meant you were precious and beautiful in his eyes.

“Okey.” you nod.

You wanted to ask him what you were going to do with seems-very-correspondingfeelings, but you did not want to push him. Kyungsoo wanted to ask you what you what was your plan about him or if you wanted to have a relationship with him, but he kept himself under the yoke and refused to impel you. His hand was still cupping your face.

Suddenly, he started to feel extremely warm.

“Soo,” you placed your hands onto his shoulder. You actually cooed. “I was also serious when I said I want you to teach me.”

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Your logic was fogged by the heavy desires, and your logic persuaded you, the one who started all of these was Kyungsoo. He was the one who said that scumbag did it wrong, and since he never ridicule someone for doing something wrong if he did not have the knowledge of the right ways.

And also, you wanted him, you wanted to feel him and have a proper taste.

So, you may be looking for the excuses in the book, but the frustrating heat was unbearable. You did not know what was going to be tomorrow, when you wake up, however you were sure of if you would not feel his lips again, you could not survive enough to see the sun again.

You did not care if you were going to torture yourself by having Kyungsoo for this night even when you were going to want him for the rest of your life, when there was always a possibility of losing him.

“Yeah, you said.” Kyungsoo inhaled. “Okey, I really need your words, and you have to promise me if you want to stop the session, you have to be vocal about it.”

“I…” you stopped before gearing up for the way. “I want to learn. I promise.”

“You are making everything hard for me.” Kyungsoo exhaled, staring at your small hands on his shoulders. “Do you know how you sound like? You are inviting me to please you, sweet Jesus, I want to make you feel good. Do you have any idea how hard to keep myself as a fucking one piece?”

“Do not hold yourself back.” you could not believe your own words. Your voice sounded like you were begging him, as you have not done till now. “Please, Soo.”

Kyungsoo thought that he poisoned you with his warped desires, he was not sure if he deserved you or your trust. You willingly put yourself in his palms, and he deeply believed that you deserved to have someone make you feel good, make you happy and feel secured. You deserved to feel fucking good, and Kyungsoo knew that he wished nothing but happiness for you.

But he could not stand the idea of someone else were to make you happy, make you feel good, even if that person could do it right. He was jealous to the bits even thinking about another man, being with you. He wanted to bring you such a high, maybe that was the worst thing to vocalize, however Kyungsoo wished nothing but be that man. He knew you like knowing the back of his hands, there would be one and only for you, you were an old-fashioned girl when it came to love someone.

He knew you would do everything in your power for the one who you loved, and you would keep him as the only man in your life.

And Kyungsoo felt like the most selfish person in the world for wanting it to be him to be loved by you.

He was aware of the fact that teaching you was just an excuse you came up with. You could tell him that you wanted to have a taste of Kyungsoo, you were too shy to say those words, however only you could be brave enough to find an excuse and play that card.

My little fox, Kyungsoo thought. How could I refuse you?

But there was fear.

After hearing you were also interested in him, you had feelings for him enough to make you to invite Kyungsoo to touch you, Kyungsoo was afraid of nothing, but you would change your mind. He could not endure if you were going to tell him that he made you unhappy. What if he was going to seed wrong thoughts and perspectives in your brain such as you feel like unwanted? He could not survive if he was going to hear that he made it wrong like that scumbag.

But you were leaning to his chest, he could feel your heartbeats and warmness. Your breath hovered his neck, and he could feel your velvety lips just over on his skin.

He was dying to feel more of you.

Shit. He really could not help himself.

He held your chin and lifted your head.

“I will do what you wanted.” he made his final decision. “But I have to warn you before starting to teach you. Every nerve of my body steer me towards you. I really want you. Consciously, logically, physically, emotionally. You name it, you get it.”

Your chin dropped at his bluntness. Well, you did not expect to hear those words, and Godfuckingdamnit, if Kyungsoo was going to be vocal and could not stop his goddamn mouth, you were going to burn right now.

“O-okey.” you shuttered. Your entire body tensed beneath his feathery touch, and you felt his touch made your heart rapping at a pace which your lungs could not support.

He closed his eyes.

“Damn.” you heard his low grunt, that made the fire in your stomach worse. “Remember, you promised t-

You could not help.

But kissed his closed eyelids.

Kyungsoo swore on there was no capacity left in his lungs for air as he felt your plumed and delicate kisses on his eyes, from right to left, then you made your way to his eyebrows.

“You have very beautiful eyebrows, Soo.” he heard your whisper, his heart twisted again and again. You had a grip on him, you could revel him in the blink of eye, he had a first handed experience of your power on him. He was riling up even with the idea of being at your call, being at your service, fulfilling your needs and desires as the best way he could. “And your eyes are spectacularly stunning.”

He wished you could stop praising him, otherwise he would just come in his fucking pants after hearing two nice words from you, but to his dismay, you seemed like you could not stop your goddamn mouth tonight.

Even worse, you could not prevent yourself from memorizing the details of his face with your lips and fingers. You laid your lips on his forehead as you got your hands through his stubborn hair to his neck, and you could not be sure if Kyungsoo’s body was actually trembling or if you were persuading yourself on managing to seduce him because you were deadly anxious about the issue.

The things you had no idea on that you already ignited the wheels of the machine, set Kyungsoo on fire and there was no turning back.

“Have I ever told you how much I love when you look at me?” you asked. “Even though when you look at me, I feel like I am going to explode, I love to be the view of your eyes. You are breath-taking, Kyungsoo.”

“Can you stop talking?” Kyungsoo could not hold his grunt anymore. “You cannot say these without noticing how effective they are!”

“Why?” your lips formed around a very little smile. “Don’t tell me you are into praising.”

“You little…” Kyungsoo was shocked due to your sudden transformation from a shy schoolgirl into a sharp brat, but you did not hesitate to make it worse by quickly pressing your lips onto his, then backed off.

“I see you really are.” you raised your eyebrow. There was a devilishly look on your face, you remembered something Baekhyun told you, and you did not hold it back. “So, what would happen if I told you how good you are for me?”

Kyungsoo immediately blushed.

“You are really blushing, Soo!” you exclaimed. “Look at your face!”

“Do not forget,” he deeply growled. “You started this game.”

You were not disappointed that seeing his transformation in the blink of an eye. He grabbed your wrists with one hand and securely pressed them on the pillows while pushing you into the mattress. His face was fucking close to you, your lips parted for him.

“You learned that I am into praising,” he beamed. His eyes started to shine like a boy unwrapping his Christmas gifts under the tree. “From now on, I am definitely going to discover what you are into.”

You wanted to answer by saying that you are irrevocably into him, but Kyungsoo’s lips covered your mouth, but he did not stay on your lips more than enough to make you shut up, he swiftly climbed over your body, slipping his waist between your thighs, his hips were fucking close to set your world on fire.

Kyungsoo did not hesitate to give you a couple of short kisses before fully taking your lips in his, just like he was testing the waters and tasting you before starting to completely ravage you. You had no idea how far he was planning to go; however, you were bloody sure on that if he wanted to encourage you to go to whole way, you were going to say yes. His lips were warm and soft as before, feeling you like you were a fucking addict of him.

You felt things you have never ever felt before to the point where he had you coming to stay in the palms of his hands. It could be your lack of experience, but in the deep of your heart, you knew the fact that it was not about being inexperienced or not, you knew that you were trembling, shuttering, shivering, and shaking because what he has been doing to you and for you was nothing but right.

Feels right.

He paused for a moment, he was out of breath and his face all blushed now. He leaned your forehead, cupping your face while he braced himself up on his right forearm. He kissed your forehead, kissing you fervently, he was drowned in all things about you. Your darkened eyes. Your plump lips. Your silky hair. Your words, your kindness, your firmness. You were composed by the everything Kyungsoo could wish for.

Your voice, begging him to touch you. Persuading him to take you.

Fucking hell, he should have kept himself far away from you. He really had to not listen your words when you said you liked him while you always could leave him in the darkness.

But running away from you was also equal to living in a personal hell, especially after learning the fact that you liked him.

Kyungsoo cupped the back of your neck in his palm and traced your eyebrows with his lips, he could feel the heat of your skin, singing the songs for him. All he could think was eating you alive, devouring you, marking you as his.

All his.

He hated being so clingy and cheesy, but he could not help it.

His lips followed their way from your eyebrows to your earlobe, you gasped when his lips brushed your ear, your hands freely moved and grabbed his shirt, digging your finger onto his flesh.

“Remember your promise.” his breath fanned your neck when he whispered. Godfuckingdamnit.“If I make you uncomfortable at any point, tell me.”

“Stop whispering.” you unconsciously moaned, swallowing hard. He made a mental note of your voice, storing the tone in his mind and boyishly grinned. So, you were into whispering. His fingers trailed the back of your neck, moved to your side, and caressed you gently. Your chest rubbing against him as you squirmed under his body as you could feel his hands pressing your sides, locking you in place, it was like your body responding to his heavy touches so well.

You were feeling weird, but it was not about Kyungsoo.

You were meeting with the most foreign part of your body.

There was an ache building between your thighs that you never ever felt before.

“Soo,” you glanced down to his mouth, then backed up to his eyes. His eyes were darkening with hidden desires that he was holding back all these years. “I am generally not like this.”

Kyungsoo wholeheartedly laughed.

“Oh really?” his face was lit up because of your funny explanation. “I know, you little idiot.”

He could feel you falling apart already, the softest whimpers getting caught in your throat and fuck, he could also feel that those stupidly nice noises you were unconsciously making, their effects go straight his dick, then climbing into his stomach and forcing him to dip his mouth against yours. He took your bottom lip between his teeth, your arms jerked around him, and you could not control your hips rutting against him.

Both of you could feel the pressure forming against to your pelvis.

And you heedlessly grind him, when you did that, he was the one who had to break the kiss.

“Shit,” he muttered, barely loud enough.

But you heard him. You heard him, not only hearing but also recording every reaction he gave to you in a folder in your head. You slide your hands up his shoulders and pulled him back into another kiss, even though you were aware of how much you wanted him, you had no idea of how thirsty you were for Kyungsoo’s lips. He was so careful with you, his touch was so delicate, and he was aware of your body and mind, completely tuned into your responses and reactions. He was reading your needs and limits out of your reactions, by every inch of your body where his fingers shifting against your skin, he was learning and composing a new song to be sung together.

You loved it.

Maybe you were sickly eager to be at his fingertips since ages, but you loved how he cared for you. Your blown pupils and glimmering irises were telling him that he was on the right track as he peppered more kisses on your cheeks, nose, and jawbone.

He dipped his head forward, pressing his lips on your neck where he begun to kiss diligently. This was new for you, it was consuming and tantalizing sensation which had you squirming under Kyungsoo, catching your desperate side, and turning you more needy. Your grip on his shoulders tightened, you clung onto the fabric of his t-shirt, and partly his muscles. One of your hands moved immediately to his hair, tugged the back of his head, and pulled him closer, enough to make his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

You could feel his little smile on your skin.

His hair smelled like bloomed roses, paired with something reminded you the salty fragrance of the sea.

Your heart was on the verge of exploding as your blood pressure was skyrocketing.

Kyungsoo bit you very gently, you could hardly feel his teeth, then he drawn a line on your collarbone with his tongue, your head tilted backwards, opened more place for him and you moaned.

“You are so sensitive, huh?” he mocked, and his tease caught you off guard. You shivered more than before in response as his hands wandered around your waist, pressed you against his chest.

So, you were also into teasing. Kyungsoo made another mental note for the future.

For the future.

Kyungsoo had already decided to never ever let you go. Not after hearing your whimpers. Not after tasting your lips. Not after feeling your curves under his stiff body. Not after being the target of your witty remarks.

You bewitched him in body and soul, and he never want to apart from you. If he had to lock you in a room with himself, he would even do it.

He could feel you trembling in his arms, he knew that if he was going to let another one to have you, he would die in that second. He irrevocably fell apart inside, he hovered over you to get a good look at your face, and it was the nail of his coffin.

Your pixie haircut lost its model, splayed out prettily, your cheeks were blushed, you were panting, and your lips were swollen and parted.

“Please.” you gasped, reaching to him again but Kyungsoo removed your hands over his shoulders, placing a tender kiss on your head. It was obvious that your lungs used all the capacity they had as you were out of air.

“Relax.” he murmured very delicately. “Take a deep breath. We are here to go for a long way.”

He turned back to your neck, finding the point of your pulse, circling around the point with his index finger while peppering your collarbone with kisses, touching you less to provide you with the chance of taking a full breath of air. He realized once again the amount of trust you just put in him. He knew that you did not do any of these before, you were totally handing yourself to Kyungsoo, blindly believing in him, the way of feeling proud was making his heart to swell in his chest. He resisted to the need of taking a good look on your curves, he also kept his instincts telling him to run his hands over your body in control. Instead, he made the eye contact and looked at your face when he lifted his head, then he hovered above your shoulder, waited for you till he could feel your breathing was under control.

“I am good.” you sighed.

He took the clue, then his mouth once more connected to your pulse point. He loved to feel your heartbeats beneath his lips and tongue. To be honest he really wanted to suck your sensitive flesh, however he knew that your skin was too pale and delicate, easily be bruised and he did not want to give you that horrible lavender colour as he was informed how much you disliked the bruises. You were extremely clumsy, enough to make him to want building a bubble around you to keep you always safe, however since that was impossible, he had to see and count the bruises and wounds all over your legs and arms.

So, he kept his desires under the yoke.

There were different ways of marking you as his.

He could do that, right? He could make you feel so good, enough to forget every possible name maybe you were keeping in your mind or the invisible rivals whose could always come to your way? He could carve his name in your heart, he could burn you well, so you could not remember anything but Kyungsoo.

What he did still not fully grasp was the fact that Kyungsoo was already the one and only for you.

While he was kissing your neck and collarbone, your fingers made their way from his shoulder to his toned chest and digging into his muscles. Slowly, very slowly, Kyungsoo began to slide the straps of your dress, driving you into crazy and your chest came on display. You always thought it would be very embarrassing, you did not like to be seen by anyone, but when Kyungsoo pressed his bonny fingers onto your chest, you fucking lost it.

It was not embarrassing. It was nothing like you could think of. You just wanted to look beautiful for him, when he lay his palm against your breast, you did not think anything but how much you wanted to please him. His eyes glazed over to your face, by keeping the eye contact, he slightly cupped your breast and gently squeezed.

Your eyes blown up, and you wiggled like a worm again beneath his body, that simple move alarmed your nerves and gave you goosebumps. Your heart thumped around in your throat, rammed against to your ribs just like a bird who wanted to achieve freedom.

“Is this okey?” Kyungsoo asked, his eyes were covered with a glistening thick layer of lust, his voice sounded darker and lower, doubling the tingles he was causing on you, you wanted nothing but crawling into his body. At the same time, he wanted to keep himself, he was afraid of pushing you more than you could ask for, however your fucking choice of undergarment made it almost impossible for him. He did not think Sehun also chose this for you, you were not the type of woman who could go and ask for the fashionable undergarments.

This stupidly attractive bralette must be your own taste, a dark navy bralette was covering your breasts softly, looking wonderful on your pale skin and the decorative details which composed by lace was wrapping your chest.

He closed his eyes for a second, he was not sure if he could survive or not.

You were drowning into the foggy thoughts, but even in this situation, you could not miss a single thing about Kyungsoo. You sharply observed something was wrong with him, and you were scared out of your mind.

You immediately thought that something was wrong with you.

Your insecurities did not wait for even a single moment, and quickly started to howl in your head. Your body stiffed like a rock, your fingers spasmed on his chest.

“What happened?” Kyungsoo reacted to your transformation as your body was frozen in his arms just like he was holding a sculpture which was carved out of ice. You shook your head, but due to the tension you got under your skin, the tears formed around the edges of your eyes.

You hated yourself.

“Can you tell me what is wrong?” Kyungsoo asked, he thought he fucked the things up so badly, he pushed you too much, he made you afraid of him.

“You didn’t like it.”

“Ha?”

That was the best shot he could give. You were embarrassed to death, but you forced yourself to make an explanation, you pointed the bralette you were wearing, Jesus, the only reason you purchased this type of underwear, was… Well. It was very obvious why you owned a couple of good undergarments.

And why you chose to bring them with you.

Kyungsoo followed the direction you were pointing to, his eyes widened, and he swallowed hardly. Were you an idiot? How could he manage to not like the view since he was waiting to see it since ages? Godfuckingdamnit, the view in front of his eyes was worth for all the years.

Then he really registered to the meaning.

You were anxious more than he thought, and you wanted to be praised by him. When he closed to his eyes, you got the wrong impression.

He concluded that you were an idiot, but he loved you more than anything for also being so clueless. Your reactions were priceless.

You felt Kyungsoo’s lips on your finger, then in your palm. Your eyes immediately opened.

“I love it.” he directly looked at your eyes with all the power in his gaze. You literally bit your lips in order to keep that fucking need of whining under your control. “Now, watch me.”

“For what?”

“I am going to show you,” his mouth watered after he took a really good look at your chest. “How much I love it.”

Your body tingled after his words; he did not miss a second and dipped his head onto the vault between your breasts. You could not help but wonder where in the hell Kyungsoo learned how to do these things and how he could be so fucking good at.

He hooked his thumb around the strap of your bralette and slide it down your shoulder, lifting his head and pressing his lips onto the new patch of skin. You were going ballistic when you felt his tongue, your hands searched anything to hold on for your dear life. Kyungsoo’s breath caught in his chest, he has been leaving soft kisses along the line between your neck and shoulder, his hand curved around your waist as he yanked your dress down and tugged it all the way down to your spine, granted himself the opportunity to easily take you out of that fucking dress. You tugged on his shirt, half of your face was submerged in the yellow dim lights, however the fact of your brain already went to mush was palpable.

Kyungsoo nod once, looked at you, and rubbed his hips against your core.

“Damn you, Soo.”

He chuckled when he heard your sweetest moan. He felt your quivery fingers found their ways around his hair, sneaked to his neck, while you were pressing his head onto your chest and giving him more opportunities to taste you. Shit, you were smelling so good, your skin was too soft, and your heart was drumming. Your bodies are pressed together, you were melting in each other, your thighs were wrapped around his hips, you were touching him, he was touching you.

There was no surprise he could not fucking breath.

As his eyes poured into yours, your stomach churned. You were throbbing for him; his hair was splayed between his head and the vault between your breasts, and you felt something which was coming into life in the very deep of you.

Something wet.

You did not experience it till now, but you listened a lot of stories from Baekhyun and Chanyeol. They assured you on one day you were going to need this information, so you knew what the fuck was happening to you.

You were soaking, clenching around nothing, and to your dismay, all he has done was kissing you. He was unravelling you slowly, and you were taking everything he was giving to you like you had been starving since years. When it came to experience, you were totally ignorant, but in the secrecy of your head, you knew that if he would want to slide himself inside of you right now, you were going to take him like a very good girl.

You closed your eyes, then you sensed a stingy feeling on your breast.

He bite the hardening bud of your breast as your eyes blown up.

“Oho.” his voice was fucking dominant and demanding, his eyebrows were knitted but he was glaring at you with the softest look you have ever seen in his eyes. “I said, watch me.”

Embarrassment?

It was already left the room out of the window as you lifted your head and concentrated on him.

Kyungsoo brought his face closer to your collarbone, remained exposed and placed a gentle kiss on the sternum, and did not neglect your clavicles. You wondered why he did not take the bralette off, or if he was going to do, however you were so messed up to think clearly. You were trying to solve the problem, if the increasing pace of your heart was about the arousal or stimulation, however when he nudged your nipple with his fingers, all questions immediately faded away. His fingers circled around it as he lifted his head to watch your reactions.

You thought that your eyes must be wholly black because your pupils expanded to their limits.

Then he made everything worse for you by bringing his mouth down on your breast over the fabric of your bralette, kissing along the soft tissue. Your gasps were so sharp, you cried out.

Kyungsoo fought against himself in order to behave and have his fucking manners while every nerve of his body beg him to take you right there, right now, as that bloody sweet sounds of you reached out to his ears. He never ever hear your moans, to be honest he was certain on that no one heard the noises you made, but he imagined it before.

God, it was too wrong maybe, but he imagined all of these before.

He made all of these and beyond with you in his mind, again and again.

To be honest, Kyungsoo’s mind always dangerously wandered around you. He reserved the vastest place of his mind just for you, for every version of you, from the best friend to the partner in crime, from a witty brat to a trustworthy companion, from a bashful girl to the most alluring woman. Generally, he just think about the days you were spending together, noticing something that you pointed out in the library, laughing for the lame jokes you made all the time, finding your notebook full of your shitty handwriting in his bag, or coming across to a note you took on his currently readings. Damn, Kyungsoo loved to read even your fucking gibberish. Or he just harkened back to the moments that you gave him handmade bento boxes for the lunch, even though he was cooking better than you or sitting next to him without saying anything. Laying down on the grass together or walking around the campus during nights. He just recalled the moments of your presence like all memories you had were pearls for him such as the times you were waiting him to be back in front of the dorms with an umbrella because of the sudden raining.

But sometimes, he was imagining you in your lewdest forms, while he always make you to feel fucking wonderful in those dreams. You just entangled in his thoughts with the moment you made a speech with sinfully deceptive red dress, or running to his open arms after summer break, whispering to his ear when you were watching a movie in theatre or he remembered that you came out of bathroom without noticing he was also in your flat, smelling so fucking good and the water splashes were dripping off your body, your widening eyes when you noticed his presence and immediately started to curse him, making him burst into laughs with your vocabulary, or the moments your hands clashed each other, or you were stretching your body like a cat… He immediately caught them, stored them his mind and then, when he was all by himself, hooking them in the sea of memories.

God, he painted many pictures of you in his thoughts.

He had been thinking about you a lot, how he could touch you if you would allow him.

That’s why he was so fucking damn good at it.

He knew everything about you, he had been watching you for his dear life. He was aware of how you should be touched. How you should be cared. How you should be loved. He knew that you were made of steel, but you were also made of cotton candies. When you allow someone to be with you, that bastard had to create a perfect balance between carefulness and coarseness.

You should be bend, not broken and Kyungsoo was fucking devoted to do it rightly.

He wanted nothing but hearing his own name like a chant from your mouth, he wondered how you would sound like when his name was the only thing you could say.

He took a look at you, and he thought you were ready for the next step. Hell, he was born ready for doing these to you. As an answer to the silent question in your mind as he could feel it, he slide the straps of your bralette and swiftly stripped you out of it. When your bare chest come to display, he lost his self-control, as he did not spend any single second to clamp down on your nipple, digging his hands into your sides.

He was sure of you started to leak between your thighs as the increasing heat was alarming him, as you could feel he was literally hard against you.

“Fuck…” you murmured, closing your eyes, then immediately opened them widely as you remembered his command about watching him. You knew that he had a strong will and self-control, you did not know how much you affected him, but you could not take any risk which could make him to stop. You had to watch him.

Kyungsoo kissed your nipples softly, his hands glided upwards and caressed your flesh, his touch was an equilibrium of gentleness and roughness, had your body squirming more than before, then he took your bud between his fingers, tweaked it and devilishly smiled to you. One of his hands cupped your breast, while the other moved downward, sneaking inside of your dress and his fingers softly brushed to your inner thighs.

Another moan ripped from your throat, to be honest you started to feel like an earthenware and Kyungsoo was your potter.

“Is this okey?” as he clearly intended to peel your dress off you, knowing what you were going to say, but still asking for permission. You were melted in his hands you were amazed by the fact that he was really taking good care of you. Despite of your lack of experience, you could understand the situation was really unbearable not only for you, but also for him as you could see his eyes, darkening and his jaw, clenching more and more by every second.

“More than okey.” you mumbled inside of your mouth, your answer caused a luminescent glow on his facial expression, he rolled the fabric above your head, Jesus, he badly wanted to rip you out of this fucking dress.

“I have to say,” he chased the unveiled skin with his lips. “You have no idea how much I wanted to punch Sehun on the face.”

“W-why?” you tried to hold on your reasoning.

“This dress,” he grunted, threw your dress to the floor, and slithered himself throughout your body. “Is nothing but a sin.”

He gently bite your tummy, you wriggled inadequately, Kyungsoo found a new way to torture you, the whimpers fumbled past your lips reminded him how easy to tickle you.

He had never ever said he was a saint.

He held you between his arms, in his iron grip, then skimmed your belly with his nose, you wagged like a puppy tail as you tried to free yourself, your effort made him burst into laughs. You saved one of hands while he was laughing, punched his shoulders, he pinched your side as his response to your poor attack.

“Do not worry.” his smile was nothing but diabolical, and a sick part of you dangerously captivated by seeing that. “I am not going to leave you hanging.”

Godfuckingdamnit, you were not sure what he actually meant, but you were dying to learn.

Was it really terrible of you to think all of these made him yours? Could you really endure it if he would have these moments with someone else? Could you bare it if someone else got to see his eyes, glittering with ardour, love, and care?

You could not.

Your fingers desperately tugged onto his brown hair, you wanted to believe that if you held him strongly, no one could take him from you. The only thing you had to do was clutching him with all your power.

Kyungsoo looked at your eyes, your gaze was dissolving him as you were carefully watching even the tiniest move he made, he could see his own reflection in your pupils.

Wasn’t it enough to mark you as his girl?

You were standing in front of him, with only your panties, dark navy panties, what the heck you were wearing Goddamnit?!

His heart spasmed.

“You are going to be death of me.” he spilled the beans as he looked at the parts of your body where no one see before him. Well, you were embarrassed, it was tangible from the crimson red tone, which was spreading all over your face and chest, however at the same time, you enjoyed seeing his broadened eyes and he became slack-jawed as he wandered his fingers over the panties.

Well, he was not only one who became slack- jawed!

And you begun to notice that you were too compliant. Maybe you could not play this game with the rules, but you wanted to see him as he was perceiving you. Before Kyungsoo could make his next move, you held the hem of his shirt.

“Is this okey?” you echoed his persistent question, raising one eyebrow. His jawbone was tightening, but he did not say anything, the sudden silence was enough to let you hear his gulp and to see his Adam’s apple bobbled. He lifted his arms to help your sloppy hands.

“Take it off if you want.” he said between his teeth. You happily engaged in the task, in a second, his t-shirt joined to your dress on the floor. This was your first time to see his bare chest, Kyungsoo felt a little bit shaky to be honest when you literally examined his upper body with your eyes.

Actually, you were fucking him with your eyes.

“Kyungsoo.”

“Yeah?”

“You are really so pretty.”

“Oho!” his ears turned to red, but he felt like he was over the moon after your very simple words. You were definitely amazed by his beauty as you licked your lips unconsciously. “Shut up, you filthy woman.”

“You were licking my breast, Jesus Christ,” you hissed. “And I am the one who is filthy?!”

“Your comparison is shitty.” he gave you a feverish kiss. “I am worse than you.”

“Ah, that makes everything clear.” you nod, as he followed the direction in his mind with his lips that are fucking velvety, soft, and warm. He grabbed your leg, bending it at the knee and placing your ankle on his shoulder.

What the fuck he was aiming to do?

You remembered what Baekhyun told you during a night that he was drunk and out of his mind, you were immediately panicked but Kyungsoo sensed it. Well, he wanted nothing but pressing his mouth on your cunt, however he knew that it was too early for taking that step.

He did not want you to be freaking out.

“Calm down.” he smiled at you. “I told you we are not going to do anything you do not want.”

He kissed your Achilles and peppered kisses along your calf, he had you go fucking ballistic. You were not sure if you were panicking anymore or not, the heat between your thighs became a literal suffer, and your heart was ready to burst, you could feel there were knots tightening with every second in your stomach.

This bastard was going to make you cry, if he was not going to give you any type of relief.

“Kyungsoo,” your sound was desperate and vulnerable. Finally, he got his name as a fucking moan from you, he learned how it would be, the way of your lips chanting his name over and over again. He could see your panties ruined, you made a mess over there, and to be honest, Kyungsoo never felt so proud in his life like he has been feeling tonight.

You were needy, and all his.

He leaned forward and kissed along your inner thighs, your grip on his hair tightened, he almost laugh with sheer joy.

“It is really cute.” he could not help but teased you. “I mean how wet you are already, even though I just get started.”

“Damn you.”

“If I were you,” he dragged his tongue through the crease, where your thigh met your pelvis. “I would not curse me.”

You bit your tongue to suppress your cry, your fingers weakened, and your legs were twitching.

“I…” you tried to come up with something classy, but Kyungsoo kissed you.

Over there.

“Please!” you cried with the power of your lungs allowed you.

He wanted to give. He wanted to give everything you could ask for. He wanted to follow your instructions, your reactions, and goddamn, it was really so hard for him, he was fighting himself from the beginning, fighting with the utter and absolute need of having you. Your breathing, that sinful noise of you, the violent shudder of your body, all of them was burned into his head, the image of you carved into his eyelids and he was fucking sure you would hunt him for the rest of his life.

He dragged his index finger along your folds, quickly gliding over the wetness and tapped on your clit with the tip of his finger. A bare touch, nothing more nothing less but he had you, you grabbed his wrist, looking at him with big-doe eyes with tears on the edges. Kyungsoo pulled his hand away from your cunt but storing the reaction you gave to his feathery touch.

It was easy to see you wanted him to continue but you were also terrified by the speed.

He tempted to completely pull away, he could not help but feared if he pushed you so hard, enough to make you hate his touch, or him. Kyungsoo’s head was spinning as you were still holding his wrist and panting like his touch burned you.

Actually, it did. Behind every kiss, every touch, everything he did to you, there were his thoughts he never vocalize, not only his lust for you but his love and care for you. That’s why his touches were permanent, they were going to stay on your skin for the rest of your life.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered.

Trust him?

You could laugh, if you were not extremely turned on by him, but there was no capacity in your power storage to do it. Kyungsoo should already know the fact that he was the one and only person you trust unconditionally and irrevocably.

You took his hand and brought it back to yourself, where his fingers brushed over your nipple. Your hands were shaking to death, but Kyungsoo understood what you wanted to show him. You were not going to know how much your answer reassured him.

“Good.”

Damn you and your fucking spells on him, damn you for being the prettiest in his eyes.

He could feel himself soaking through his pants while your leg was still hooked over his shoulder, his hands wandered up to your sides, brushing over your ribs and stomach. He dipped his head again on your tummy and he sprinkled feathery kisses, switching from one side to other side until your brain melted out of your ears, and the only thing you could understand was his lips, memorizing every curve, every line and mark on your skin. His breathes tickled you, you were desperate enough, your instincts were telling you that you had to relieve yourself, you had to find a way, your fingers wandered over to your panties, however Kyungsoo was too fast to notice your every move.

“I do not presume you tried to do this before.” he caught your naughty fingers. “Tell me the truth. Have you ever tried to touch yourself?”

“Oh, fuck off!” you preferred to die instead of answering his question. You could feel the heat on your cheeks, the only thing he had to do was taking a look at your face, and he did that. One look at you was enough to inform him.

He was going to never ever tell you this, but he was more than shocked when he understood you also did not touch yourself before.

“You cannot be serious…” you heard his shocked voice, you covered your face with your hands, he had to take them off your face.

“Isn’t it more precious now?” he pressed your hands on the mattress. “You have really made a mess of yourself without knowing a single thing.”

“Shut your damn mouth.” you were panting, embarrassed to death, but his gaze settled on you, he was really damn hard had him on the verge of shifting against the bed, he had to repress his own moans.

“I do not think so.” a shiver ran down your spine as his rich baritone filled your ears.

“You cannot say that!” you refused his words, trying to refill the air in your lungs.

“Does it turn you on,” he whispered to your ear. “Hearing me state the facts?”

You attempted to kick him, he laughed and grabbed your foot. Then, he pressed his lips to your swollen folds over the fabric of your panties, damn, your thighs clenched around his body. He continued to hold your wrists as your hips jerked beneath his mouth, had you growling from the back of your throat. He was driving you fucking insane.

“You wanted me to teach you.” he lifted his head, enough to make an eye contact with you. “This was how someone should touch you. You have to want relief desperately before their mouth land anywhere near here, they have to touch every inch of your skin, they have to unravel you.”

You were dripping after every word he said, you were registering to every sound he made, you were soaking and aching, your heart was beating against your ribs with a force you could not endure.

“However,” he slide your panties, enough to create a space for himself. “You do not have to think about others, because I do not intend to let you go.”

How could you describe your feelings when you heard those words? How could you tell him you could not stand it if anyone else would do the things he had been doing right now to you? You knew that you could not hand yourself over to anybody but Kyungsoo.

“Unless you want me to let you go.” He released your wrists, you immediately reached to his face, caressing his cheeks, your fingertips stroked his cheekbones.

“I do not think so.” you gave the same answer he gave you just a couple of minutes ago. “If it happens, it happens, but I am not going to seek anyone else.”

Your answer made him want to cry.

He swallowed hard, partially satisfied with your response, damn he would prefer to hear a certain answer without an open door, but he leaned into your touch before he pressed his lips in your palm.

“Good.” he guided your hands into his brown tuffs. “Now, I will say it again, but this is the last one. Tell me to stop if you do not like what I am going to do. You do not need to think if I will be offended or not, I will not.”

Your mouth watered in anticipation, you hummed.

“Words.” he bite your finger.

“Goddamnit, okey!” your eyebrows knitted together with unsatisfaction, but Kyungsoo knew that you were happy at the moment.

And Kyungsoo needed you to be happy as he was fucking tempted to turn you fucking stupid. He wanted to hear your voice, he wanted to give you reasons to imagine everything he could do to you, and he could let you to do him.

He wanted you to cry his name like a carol, until his name would be the only think you could say.

He knew that how he could make you feel good quickly, but he was not an idiot. To be honest, you were more than ready to cum, a few licks and strokes on the right places would finish you. However, Kyungsoo was not ready to let you, not before he could be certain you were going to always come back to him, not before the memories were eternally burned into his head, not before he could engrave his love into your heart, mind, and body.

He circled his tongue around your clit, very carefully. Every lick was fucking calculated, he wanted to hang you just there as he watched your face between your thighs, as he listened your blabbers. Seeing you like this was literally and figuratively so hard for him, however he had no intention to lose his chance with you.

He wanted you for himself. For the rest of his life. Even though he wanted nothing, but take you immediately, he could behave better.

“Goddamnit, please…” you whimpered like you were on the verge of crying. “I.. I want…”

“You want?” he mumbled, blown to your clit and teasing you with his tongue.

His thumb knocked against your bud, neglecting the spot where you craved for him, he just brushed your folds and bud lightly, you had been becoming louder. It was like a circle of pleasure and torture, you were squirming, clenching, and burning.

“Do you want to cum?” he asked fucking bluntly. You never think that Kyungsoo could be shameless like this, devilish at this level, logically you disliked his sudden cockiness but a really sick side of you, the side in the driver seat, found the wicked version of Kyungsoo fucking hot.

You nod your head at a rapid pace, making him chuckled.

“No baby girl.” he turned and hovered over your clit, securing your legs over his shoulder. “Not yet.”

You groaned with a sudden anger, but he shut your voice by sucking your swollen bud, he was growling inside of him when he felt your toes curled, he could not help but he was also grinding his hips into the mattress, your moans were stimulating him so fucking bad. His fingernails dig into your hips, as he held you in your place, but he started to moan too. Every vibration went straight to your clit.

You could not think.

You could not speak.

You have been dragged into a place of euphoria where you had no idea of its presence, however Kyungsoo fed your veins with nothing but pure pleasure. You could feel that the knot in your stomach has been tightening and heating, you were so close to your first orgasm. You could feel it. You could almost name it.

Kyungsoo let you go.

He pulled his mouth off your cunt entirely and lifted his head.

He trapped you on the edge of your fucking first orgasm of your entire life.

“Why?!” you panted, panicking, and looking at him, searching for any possible reason of this sudden cruelty. His face was burning too, his eyes were never blackened before, however your frustration was fucking obvious. “Why d-”

“You are not ready to cum yet.” he cut your plea off, his hands moved from your hips up to your waist.

“Soo, please…” you could not help but whimpered with irritation. Your voice was so bitter, even though you called him as Soo.

“You will.” he kissed your lips gently, carefully destroying everything you felt in your stomach. “When I let you.”

You could be burn, turn into the ashes in the blink of an eye, on this fucking bed, and could he still talk with fucking future tenses?!

You bite his upper lip, enough to irk him to let him know about how much annoyed you were. The corners of his lips went up, he dragged you towards himself and literally manhandled you over his lap, making you to straddle him.

Your eyes widened to their extend as you could feel every part of Kyungsoo while he supported his back with the pillows, while leaning on them.

You. could. feel. every. fucking. move. on. your. lady. parts.

You groaned, a mix of frustration and excitement.

Kyungsoo held your hips and making you grin onto his lap.

“Better, right?” he brushed his nose to yours.

Your lips parted and formed around a silent O-shape; your hands locked on his neck. He pressed on your hips, enough to make you move in a row, but very slow. You started to feel the knot in your stomach again, however, Kyungsoo was fucking slow, and he did not let you to move with your own pace.

Kyungsoo was almost losing his fucking sanity with every friction you cause while you were grinding on top of him. He knew that he had to slow you, otherwise, he was going to not survive. Your taste was still on his tongue, your voice was still on his ears, he could not survive.

“Kyungsoo, please.” you lost the count, you even did not remember how many times you whimpered, you moaned, you asked him to finish his torture. He was keeping you inside this insatiable mix of delight and exasperation, he was insisting to keep you on the edge.

“You can.” your face lit up after his words, but he quickly continued. “Only if can tell me how you should be touched.”

He added more pressure to your hips, wanting to highlight the importance of his words, and making your moves a little bit faster. The stars were dancing in front of your eyes, and he slipped his hand inside of your panties, adding more pressure to your clit.

“Come on, do you want to stay here for all night?”

Kyungsoo wanted to hear what your learned tonight from your mouth even more than relieving himself. His throbbing cock was not an issue to compare with your observations.

He wanted to learn if he could carve his image into your head or not.

And this was his one and only chance. He could not be sure if you were going to let him to do all of these again, even though he said that he never let you go.

He had to know.

“Because I can easily hold you here for the rest of your life.”

You shivered, but you felt like he really could hold you on the edge forever, and you were already a mess.

You gave the only answer you could give.

Very bottom of your heart.

As plain as fuck.

“You have to touch me.” you whispered.

Kyungsoo just looked at you, he was frozen after your answer.

“You are the only one I want.” you were plain as fuck. “I learned that I should be touched by you.”

96 notes · View notes

vsilas · 3 years

Text

Okay.... hear me out. T4T post-war Snarry where substance use starts them on the path to cracking their eggs and meeting as new people who are ready to give each other a second chance. A sickeningly self-indulgent fic idea, pure rambling. Target audience: me and me alone.

Transfemme Snape is on probation after the Death Eater trials and is stripped of her magic. It's temporary and much better than Azkaban but it also means that Snape is essentially a Squib for three years following the sentence. One of the things that happens as a result of this is that all of the subtle "notice-me-not" charms on the area around Spinner's End wear off and the local authorities finally decide it's time to get rid of that slum. Snape is forced to move, which is probably for the best, all things considered. Living with your abusive parents' ghosts isn't conducive to healing... and there's a lot that Snape needs to heal from. As things stand Snape really doesn't want to have anything to do with the wizarding world so she moves to a muggle town somewhere on the coast. What with not being able to do magic she also turns to muggle solutions for a lot of her problems. She makes a living tending bar (she's basically nocturnal, doesn't drink, and can quell unruly customers with a look, so it's a good fit). She starts taking medical marijuana for the chronic pain caused by her encounter with Nagini and it stops her from feeling mildly suicidal for the first time in ages. It's nothing like her life was before and so she slowly starts shedding some of the fear and pain that kept her in line and an effective tool... basically her whole life.

Trans guy Harry goes a bit wild after the whole "I died to save the wizarding world" thing. He feels like he's been robbed of his childhood, his adolescence, and basically all the experiences that "normal kids" should have, so he lets go of his remaining impulse control and starts to spiral. The summer of 1998 is rough. There's the funerals, the trials, everybody trying to pick up the pieces of their life. Harry doesn't think he has any pieces of himself left to pick up. He didn't really plan for a future after the war... he could never see himself grown up. Harry breaks up with Ginny because the way they are together makes his skin crawl, even if he can't put a finger on why that is. Ron gets really mad at Harry for dumping his sister and even more so when Harry says that he doesn't want to be an Auror anymore. He briefly goes back for his 8th year with Hermione but drops out in November when he only manages to turn in two assignments and spends most of his time finding ways to sneak off the grounds to get drunk in London clubs. Harry's friends worry about him but there's only so much they can do to help somebody who really doesn't want to be helped. Harry moves into Grimmauld Place, cuts his hair really short, and spends his nights "living" which mostly just means doing party drugs and having a few ill-advised one-night stands. When there is no one to party with, Harry gets drunk alone in Grimmauld Place and punches mirrors. He doesn’t see a future for himself so he decides to just live in the present, however long that's going to last him. He can feel a break coming, something terrifying but necessary. It feels like the only way to forward is to spiral down.

Snape, who has known something was off since she was a kid, finally lets herself accept what that thing is. It isn’t an earth-shattering revelation, just part of slipping off the masks of professor and spy and Death Eater until all that's left underneath is her. How the fuck did she fool everybody into thinking that she was a man for all these years? Maybe that’s why she was such a good spy. Started young. Hid it even from herself. It’s not really an easy thing to accept, but inevitable. Snape is already grieving everything else about her life so what's another lie, another chance at happiness that slipped away before she even knew what it was? She spends a lot of time in her shabby little flat getting stoned but she also walks along the beach and starts planning the rest of her life.

Harry cracks on another of his drunken nights out to some rather unpleasant consequences, including ministry officials having to obliviate dozens of muggles in a Camden club and a hangover so bad even potions don't help with it. Most of it gets hushed up but the yellow press takes the opportunity to start saying how the "Girl-Who-Lived" finally went off the rails, complete with an unflattering picture of Harry's new haircut (granted Harry was about to throw up when the picture was taken...). Harry lays low for a while but he is also a man of action and so he begins to research ways he could transition. St. Mungo's doesn't provide that kind of healthcare so if he wants to go the magical route he would have to figure it out himself or find an expert in gender magic... who doesn't seem to exist. There are references to a witch who brewed a potion to change her gender, but she lived in the 18th century. Being trans is stigmatized in the wizarding world so he assumes that wixen who have transitioned probably don't advertise the fact. Harry doesn't trust himself to do any magic or potion work that advanced without killing himself, so he decides to keep searching. He swears Madam Pomfrey to secrecy and asks her if she can help him. She's taken aback and tells him this kind of magic is not well studied and she doesn't know if there's a potioneer alive, other than Severus Snape maybe, who would even try working on something like that. However, even if Snape wasn't a squib and unable to brew anymore, Harry certainly isn't planning to have anything to do with his old potions professor. He decides that maybe he should just try muggle means.

Meanwhile Snape has been doing theoretical research on magical transition but hits a dead end. She needs access to a magical library, she needs to be able to actually experiment... Not to mention that she still has years of her probation left, which means years before she can even attempt transition. The only thing to do is turn to muggle means to both manage her dysphoria and maybe inspire the next stage of her research. It takes a while to secure an appointment, but one fateful day Snape walks into the reception area of a London clinic... right as Harry Potter is exiting the doctor's office after his check-in for being 3 months on T. To say that there is a moment of shocked silence would be an understatement.

They meet up for coffee and cautiously become a two-person support group for trans wixen who got fucked over by fate (and Dumbledore) and miraculously survived a war. Harry lets Snape use the library at Grimmauld Place and Snape promises to expand her research to try and develop something for him too. Harry apprentices to a curse-breaker and weathers the press dragging him through the mud every chance they get. Snape might have mellowed out a bit but she still gets on Harry's case about the drinking and not finishing school. They bicker a lot and sometimes Harry overcompensates on the machismo and acts like James, or Snape feeling a blinding rage that Harry is so fucking young and has his whole life ahead of him... but they end up coming around to each other every time. On some level, they are the only people in the world who can really understand each other.

Over the course of the next year and a half, they slowly get their lives sorted. And through that process, they become the most important people in each others' lives. What started out as reluctant solidarity grows until one day Harry can't imagine a future that doesn't have Snape in it, and Snape starts thinking of "home" as being wherever Harry is. It's not easy, considering how many issues both of them have, but it's the easiest thing in the world compared to the alternative. Cue resolution of them both magically transitioning, dealing with public perceptions, and leaning into being a scandalous power couple who doesn't take shit from anybody.

Now, if only I could write this as an actual story....

#the target audience for this is me #i feel like if i ever write a fanfic this would be it #except i can't make myself write #and if i ever do i will probably turn this into an original story #but here #i can think of maybe two people who will be into this #severus snape #serverus x harry #snarry #trans snape #trans harry potter #substance use cw #alcohol cw #self-harm cw #weed cw #idk #ask to tag

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onecanonlife · 3 years

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In which Tommy travels back in time and tries to prevent a nightmare from happening to everyone he knows. Everyone else, meanwhile, is highly concerned.

(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first part) (previous part) (next part)

(word count: 4,081)

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Part Five: Niki

She has no idea what to expect from this server. It makes her a bit nervous, if she’s being entirely honest. Dream is a man with a reputation stretching between worlds, and when the letter from Wilbur first arrived, she didn’t know what to think. But she does find it easy to believe that Wilbur would take one look at a man with a position of authority and decide to cause trouble. Founding an entire country is above and beyond, even for him, but picturing it comes naturally to her. For as long as she’s known him, Wilbur has never been one to do things halfway. That’s not always a good thing, but—

You should come to see it, the letter read. It’s really something, Niki. Everyone’s worked so hard, and I’d love to show it to you.

So here she is, letter folded neatly in her breast pocket as she wanders down the wooden paths that seem to function as the server’s main thoroughfares. There’s been no one to greet her just yet, even though she’s certain her entry pinged on everyone’s communicators, if they were looking. But perhaps that’s for the better; the letter told her that Dream wouldn’t harry her, but that doesn’t mean she’s particularly eager for a meeting.

And it’s simple enough to find the nation. L’Manberg. Just a little further down the path, and there it is, just like Wilbur described to her, blackstone walls raised around it and tipped with yellow. She can see over the top from this vantage point, can pick out a few structures, a flicker of fire, and perhaps a few people moving about, though from this distance, they look more like ants. There is also a tower under construction outside of the walls, already tall but still uneven, clearly not yet finished.

She grins and picks up the pace. The entrance stands wide open, and by the time she makes it there, she’s all but jogging, and then, coming to meet her—

“Niki!” Wilbur calls, a wide, beaming smile on his face, and she laughs, barreling into him for a hug.

“Wilbur!” she says in return. “It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s so good to see you!” Wilbur exclaims. He returns her embrace eagerly, though he steps back after only a moment, resting both of his hands on her shoulders. “I’m so glad you came, Niki, I’ve got so much to show you. We’re really doing something special here.”

“I can see that,” she says. “I could see the walls from far off. They’re very impressive.”

“Oh, I know,” Wilbur says, and his eyes shine. With pride, with joy. “They’re a symbol of our freedom, of our refusal to bend under tyranny. But that’s not even the half of it. We’ve done so much here. Please, let me show you around?”

He’s already taking her by the arm, so it’s clear that it’s not really a question. Or rather, that he’s presumed her answer. But in this case, he’s presumed correctly, and he’s obviously so excited to show her this place, this place that he’s worked so hard to create, so she lets him take her on a tour. He points out some of the structures that they have—“Much better than they were before, Niki, though we’ve got plans for plenty of others.”—and takes her around the walls, and then to the stage—“We’ll have public events and such here!”—and then outside of the walls, to the tower, where he introduces her to Eret, a lovely-seeming person who’s evidently responsible for much of the construction work here. She’s certain that she’ll get along with them wonderfully. And then, back inside the walls—

“I saved the best for last,” he says, and leads her to a structure that he skipped over, a van topped with what appears to be a shape like a—hot dog? A hot dog on fire? A flaming hot dog?

“Is it a hot dog van?” she can’t help but ask.

Wilbur laughs. “Not quite,” he says, “though it does look that way, doesn’t it? It’s the camarvan, Niki, the camarvan. It’s where all of this started.” He takes her up the stairs and inside, and the interior isn’t quite what she was expecting, judging from the outside. It’s a bit grimy, a bit smoky, though nothing too difficult to breathe through. And it’s full of brewing stands, some of which are actively at work. There’s a door toward the rear, too, apparently leading to a back room of some kind, and she thinks she can make out somebody’s shadow on the wall, bobbing in the haze.

“I will fully admit,” Wilbur says, in a conspiratorial tone, “that this nation started out as an effort to get a monopoly on potions here on the SMP. A drug van, if you will. We didn’t set out to start a country, but when Dream threatened us, well. We really had no choice but to declare independence, not if we wanted to stand up for our ideals.”

A drug van. Her lips twitch up into a smile.

“And what ideals are those?” she asks.

“Freedom, of course!” he replies. “Justice! The fight against tyranny! And also a good bit of sticking it to the man. The man, in this case, being Dream.”

He gestures as he speaks, hands tracing adamant patterns in the air, and she nods along, keeping half an eye on the back room. The shadow stills, and before too long, a face pokes around into the doorway. One that she recognizes, blue eyes wide and blond hair messy, and this face is followed by another, one that she doesn’t recognize.

“Holy shit!” Tommy says, and Wilbur jerks, head turning. “You didn’t say that Niki was coming today!”

She doesn’t know Tommy very well. She’s only had the chance to meet him a few times, this kid that Wilbur all but adopted as his younger brother. She knows that he is brash, that he is loud, that he has a way of bringing all eyes to him that is entirely different from Wilbur’s brand of smooth charisma, that once he decides he wants someone’s attention, he is as persistent as a gnat that’s found an ear to buzz around. Though perhaps that’s not the most flattering of comparisons. There is some truth to it, though; Tommy, from what she can tell, often doesn’t seem to care how he leaves an impression, only that he does.

Really, she hasn’t seen enough of him to judge. But he does seem like a good kid, and in any case, he looks at Wilbur like he hung the moon. Which Niki understands very well; it’s easy to be caught up in Wilbur’s orbit.

“I didn’t know when she’d get here,” Wilbur says with a laugh. “Here, come out, both of you. Niki, you’ve met Tommy before.”

Tommy grins at her, and she can’t help but grin back. He wears the same uniform that Wilbur does, an antiquated long blue coat and a tricorne hat, and it fits him well. He seems to be at ease in it, in an outfit clearly styled for a soldier. He’s only fifteen, he knows, but in this moment, she almost mistakes him for older.

“This is Fundy,” Wilbur continues, walking over to the boys and putting his hand on the other’s shoulder, the one that she’s never met. His uniform is different, pastel-colored, and compared to Wilbur and Tommy’s, not very well-made. “He’s my son.” He smiles. “My little champion.”

Something about that timeline has to be off—Wilbur is in his mid-twenties, and this boy looks to be about Tommy’s age, perhaps even a little older. So there’s something strange about that, but perhaps he’s adopted; Wilbur has a habit of adopting things, bringing people close. Or perhaps there’s something else at work. Either way, it seems rude to press at this second, so she smiles in greeting, noting the way that the boy’s ears are twitching—fox ears. A hybrid, or perhaps a shapeshifter? That might explain the incongruities.

“It’s nice to meet you, Fundy,” she says.

“Nice to meet you too,” Fundy says. His voice is resigned, perhaps a bit sullen, and she gets the impression that there’s definitely something going on that she’s not privy to. Whatever it is, though, Wilbur seems unaffected, as he keeps his hand on Fundy’s shoulder, still smiling.

“Fundy was the first citizen of L’Manberg,” he says. “He was born right here, inside the walls. A bit before they were constructed, of course, but it still counts.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve all heard the story,” Tommy jumps in, and she doesn’t think she mistakes the look of relief that flashes across Fundy’s face as Wilbur turns his attention elsewhere. She fidgets, shifting her weight between her feet.

“Well, Niki hasn’t—” Wil starts, but Fundy cuts in.

“And it was great to meet her,” Fundy says, looking between everyone. “Great to meet you! But I’ve actually got something to do elsewhere, so I’m just going to go and do that. Right now, actually. So, I’ll catch you later!” He ducks out from under Wilbur’s grasp, heading for the door. “You coming, Tommy?”

“Be there in a second,” Tommy says. “I’ll just tidy up in there and meet you in a bit, yeah?”

Fundy nods, and then he’s out the door. Wilbur stares after him fondly, and Tommy takes the opportunity to grin at her again—and is it just her, or does that smile seem strained, now?—and he ducks back into the room that he came out of. A second later, there is a clattering sound, glass clinking together repeatedly.

“It’s all for him, really,” Wilbur says, voice soft. “The walls, this country, all of it. Him and everyone, but—it’s all so they can be safe and free. That’s all I want.”

“It’s a good goal,” she says, and his attention finally turns back to her. “It looks to me like you’ve made a great start.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he says, and leans against one of the counters, between two of the brewing stands. “This means a lot to me. This nation, it’s like—a second child, sort of. I’ve got to give everything I can to make it as good as it can be. I really do mean it when I say that it stands for something. Something important.” He pauses, tilting his head. “I am thinking about holding an election, though. Just a little something to consolidate power, nothing big. But I need the authority to guide L’Manberg to its future. Because I’ll tell you, Niki, that future is looking bright.”

She tilts her head, too, mirroring him. “Would there even be anyone to run against you?” she asks. Consolidating power. That doesn’t sound like the sort of thing that an election would help very much with.

He chuckles. “Not that I can think of. That’s sort of the beauty of it,” he says, and then, suddenly, Tommy emerges from the room again. He’s got a couple of potions cradled under his arm, shimmering with a pink glow.

“Wilbur,” he says, and Niki blinks, because his tone is a far cry from a few moments ago, is low and serious in a way she’s not certain she’s ever heard from the boy. “If you’re serious about the election thing, you’ve got to be careful with it.”

It’s an odd response to an offhand comment, and obviously, Wilbur agrees, as he arches a brow, regarding Tommy with a bit of confusion. “What are you on about now?” he asks, gently exasperated.

“It’s easy for things like that to go wrong,” Tommy states. “It might not—it might not go how you’re expecting it to go, you know? So, I think you should open it up so that anyone can run, so that way, when you win, nobody doubts the results and all. But—but Wilbur, here’s the thing, you can’t—I need you to promise me that you won’t invite Schlatt to the server, alright? Don’t have him come and endorse you, don’t even let him step foot in L’Manberg. Don’t have him come here, okay?”

It’s not a name she recognizes. But Wilbur seems to, because he wrinkles his nose.

“Why the hell would I have Schlatt come here?” he says. “Dream banned him anyway, don’t you remember?”

“I know, I know, just, just don’t, okay?” Tommy takes another step closer. His shoulders are tense. “Wilbur, I’m serious about this.”

“Alright, I won’t, I promise,” Wil says, and immediately, Tommy relaxes. There is still a look in his eyes, though, a look of wariness, and the sample size she’s drawing from is small but she thinks it’s still safe to say that she’s never seen him direct that expression at Wilbur before. “Tommy, why—”

“I’m going to go catch up with Fundy now,” Tommy says. “See you later, Wilbur. And Niki, you too. It’s—really good to see you, Niki. I’m glad you’re here.”

The earnestness in his voice catches her off guard. He sounds completely genuine, genuine in a way that she doesn’t really expect from someone like TommyInnit. Because Tommy is loud and Tommy is brash, but she has never known him to be so open. But then again, she doesn’t know him that well. She needs to keep reminding herself of that, needs to keep reminding herself that everyone has depths to them, no matter how uncomplicated they might seem on the surface. She deals with people making snap judgments about her too often to do the same to someone else.

“I’m glad to be here, too,” she says, and then, Tommy is gone, the door to the camarvan swinging shut behind him. She can already hear him calling out for Fundy, and someone named Tubbo, his volume cranked back up to an eleven, like the previous minute or so never happened at all.

Wilbur sighs suddenly, pinching the bridge of his nose. He seems to sag a bit, his perfect posture deflating into something more casual, more—defeated doesn’t quite seem to be the right word, but weary, perhaps.

“He keeps doing this, Niki,” he all but moans. “He keeps saying things that don’t make any sense as if they’re the most important things in the universe.”

“Do you think he’s okay?” she asks, already struggling to find something to say that will help. But the problem is, she just doesn’t know Tommy all that well. She’d like that to change, especially if she decides that she’s here to stay. But right now, she doesn’t know enough to help, and she doesn’t like that.

“I think so,” Wil says. “I hope so. I wanted to tell you while he was still here—he gets all embarrassed whenever I bring it up, it’s hilarious, but Tommy’s the reason that we have our freedom at all. He traded a couple of his most valued possessions to Dream in exchange for L’Manberg’s autonomy. It was a real sacrifice play. I’m very proud of him. But he hasn’t been quite the same since then.” He sighs again. “I’m worried that he’s more hurt by it than he’s been letting on. I’m trying to be there for him, but it’s been—difficult, these past few weeks.” He smiles slightly, meeting her eyes. “Turns out that running a country is a lot of work. Who knew, right?”

“As long as you’re trying your best, I’m sure he appreciates that,” she says. “And I’m sure he’s got other friends as well that he can turn to, right?”

“He does,” Wil says, frustration leaking into his tone, “he does, I know he does, but—I’m supposed to be looking after him, right? We’re like family. Like brothers, pretty much. And the older brother is supposed to look out for the younger. That’s the job.” He leans back further, crossing one leg over the other, and Niki is struck, suddenly, with the idea that he looks very, very tired. There are bags under his eyes that she didn’t notice right away, but now that she’s seen them, she can’t unsee them. “But he’s being weird about it—and do you know, we’ve actually got a few new citizens because of him. There’s this guy, Quackity, and I wasn’t going to let him join, but Tommy kept at me until I gave in. And then just the other day, I went to a meeting, and when I get back, it turns out that he’s snuck in another guy right under my nose. Jack Manifold. Gave him a uniform and everything. And what am I supposed to do, say no?”

Throughout, his voice becomes more and more petulant, and she pushes down the urge to laugh.

“It just sounds to me like he’s making new friends,” she says, and once again, Wilbur sighs, this time much more dramatically.

“I suppose,” he says, sounding very put upon. “I wish he’d just come to me, though.”

“I’m sure he will in time,” she says. “I don’t know him that well yet, but from what I’ve seen, he thinks the world of you. I’m sure he’ll come talk to you when he’s ready.”

Thankfully, Wilbur perks up a bit at this.

“Thanks, Niki,” he says. “You’re probably right.” He shakes his head ruefully, and then smiles. “He beat me to the punch, but I am also very glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad to be here,” she repeats. “Really, I’m glad you sent me that letter.” And then, because she can’t resist, and because his posture still seems to scream tiredness, she asks, “Are you holding up alright? With all of this? I know you said it was a lot of work.”

For a fleeting moment, a fraction of a second, his eyes widen marginally, and the expression passes so quickly that in the murk of the room, she can’t even be sure that she saw it at all.

“Just fine,” he says brightly. “It’s all worth it. L’Manberg is going to be the pinnacle of freedom and prosperity of the Dream SMP. Which actually reminds me, I have a meeting that I need to be getting to. Dream’s been more generous than I expected with border agreements, but we still don’t have everything ironed out as far as trade goes. So I’m afraid that I’m going to have to leave you.”

“Of course, I understand,” she says, and squashes the little voices that starts to murmur disappointedly. She knew from the beginning, of course, that Wilbur would likely be very busy. Still, she supposes that she just hoped she would have more of an opportunity to catch up with an old friend.

Wilbur holds the door open for her as they exit the camarvan, and then one last smile and he’s striding off toward one of the far buildings, one that looks like it might conceivably be a good place for an office. She watches him go, his back straight and strides purposeful. And then, she looks around. There’s still plenty of things to do, after all, and plenty of people she hasn’t met. So she decides to do a bit of exploring on her own.

But it’s not even ten minutes before she runs into Fundy again. He’s crouched over a pool of water, staring at the fish, though he doesn’t seem to have a rod or anything of that sort. She hesitates a moment, wondering if he would rather be alone, before deciding that if he tells her so, she’ll leave without objection.

“Hello again,” she says. “It’s Fundy, right?”

He doesn’t seem surprised that she’s there, even though she made little noise on her approach, and when he looks up at her, she sees the probable reason why; his face is now that of a fox, snout and all. A shapeshifter, then. Behind him, his tail lashes back and forth.

“Oh,” he says. “Hi! That’s me! And you’re Niki, right?”

She nods. “I was hoping to get to get to know some of the people here,” she says. “I think I might be staying.”

She doesn’t know that she’s going to say it until she does, but as soon as the words leave her mouth, she realizes that it was her intention all along. She needed to see the country to finalize her decision, but really, there’s not much for her where she’s living now. A quiet life, some friendly acquaintances, an empty house. Here, there are friends and a cause to believe in, and she wants to be a part of it.

To her bemusement, though, Fundy seems to wilt a little bit.

“Did Wil have to go back to work, then?” he asks, turning his attention back to the pool. His tail swishes again, perhaps in agitation, though she doesn’t know enough about fox body language to be sure.

“He said he has a meeting,” she says, somewhat hesitantly.

“He says that a lot these days,” Fundy mutters. “And when it’s not a meeting, it’s paperwork. Or construction plans. Or just a vague, general thing that makes him super busy that I don’t need to worry about or help him with, so go find something to do, Fundy. But it’s fine.”

She’s stumbled into something that she’s not equipped to be in the middle of, she thinks.

“It does seem like he’s really busy,” she tries. Maybe Fundy just needs to get this off his chest. In that case, a listening ear is something she can provide.

“I know he’s really busy,” Fundy answers. “I just wish he’d let me do something. He keeps treating me like I’m some little kid. I’m not a little kid. I know I grew up quick, or whatever, but I’m not a kid. I fought in the revolution. I even made my own uniform!”

That explains—several things. Why the uniform looks so different, so haphazard. And also why Wilbur has a son who’s nearly fully grown, if he aged on a timeline more akin to that of the creature he shifts into.

“Well then, maybe you could help me make one, too,” she says. “I might want to have one of my own, if everyone else is wearing them.” She pauses. “Do you think you could show me around a little more? Wilbur gave me a tour, but I’d like to know if he left anything out. I’m sure he showed me everything he thought was important, but that might not be everything.” She shrugs, an exasperated, what-can-you-do sort of gesture, because while she’s sure that Wilbur did, indeed show her everything that he thought was important, Wilbur can be prone to tunnel vision when he has a grand plan in mind.

And even if he truly did show her everything, there’s no harm in seeing it again.

Fundy perks up, ears standing up straight. “Yeah, that sounds like Wil,” he says. “I could do that! I’ve been around from the start, so I know all the best places.” He stands, tail moving back and forth rapidly, and that, she is willing to bet, is excitement. She falls into step with him as he starts off, and that seems to be all the invitation he needs to talk, about everything and anything, and there’s just as much about the history of what he’s showing her as there are personal anecdotes, everything from what he had for breakfast this morning to plans for a prank he wants to play on Tommy. It’s endearing, and she finds herself very engaged in the way his words tumble out.

“What do you like to do, where you’re from?” he asks her at one point.

“I like to bake a lot,” she answers. “Maybe I’ll start a bakery here.”

“That would be awesome,” he says. “We don’t have any bakeries. Would you need any help with getting it started?”

And she smiles. “I think I would like that,” she tells him.

It sounds very nice. A nice little bakery, food and sweets for everyone, in a country that she can tell has already become near and dear to her heart somewhere between Wilbur meeting her at the doors and showing her around and now this, his son, showing off his home with obvious joy and pride, just as much enthusiasm as Wilbur showed her.

She thinks she’s going to like it here very much. She thinks she already does.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #nihachu #niki nihachu #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #fundy #/rp #cat writes fic #long post #time travel au #no additional content warnings this time? that's a first #for once the angst isn't too overt #so enjoy that while it lasts lmao

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eunoiaflow3r · 3 years

Text

when worlds collide - h.p. x gn!avenger!reader

a/n: bahahahahaha no one reads harry x reader lmaoo you don’t have to tell me - i know. but still, i thought this was a cute idea and i went with it. hope you enjoy :)

not edited.

also: timelines don’t match up bc i don’t want to do the math so harry is like 20 - 21 and your like 19 - 20 in 2020. Civil War and everything on didn’t happen. Fred didn’t die.

gn = gender neutral

warning(s): “language!” - captain america.

word count: 3.1k

request(ed): no.

summary: stephen sends y/n to a strange new place with...wizards?

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Never doubt Stephen Strange. That's something that pretty much everyone has accepted. Never second guess the wizard man. Usually you'd agree. Usually you'd just let the man babble about whatever he needed to and then go about your day.

Not now.

The fuckery.

Now you were here (wherever here was) after some flashes of orange and a "be careful." Did he even do the spell right? Is this really where you were supposed to be?

It was dark, and dirty and you just wanted to go home and not talk to anyone so you turned yourself invisible.

You were born with your powers - you think. You were adopted so you wouldn't know where your powers came from. All you know is that one day your parents couldn't find you, even though you were right there. Instead of thinking you were some kind of alien and throwing you out to labs, they helped you control it the best you could.

It was difficult at first, all things considered, but you got through. You discovered you had another power as well. Force fields. Those came in handy during the battles. (You helped where you could), and Tony Stark took you in afterwards as his own. He helped you create your suit, and your name, and discover more about your powers, he was basically a dad to you.

Your parents were a little hesitant letting you join the Avengers, but once they realized this is what you were meant to do, and you had people just like you protecting you, they couldn't keep you from that. They just couldn't.

So here you were, invisible, in some dark and creepy alley. There were doors either side of you, so you got out of the way considering they could open and smack you in the face at any given moment. You heard loud voices and laughing and cheering from both ends of the alley so you walked towards the one in front of you.

The voices were so loud and echoey that you really couldn't focus on anything else. Maybe that's why you didn't hear a boy behind you trip and fall into you from behind.

"I'm so sorry." he said helping you up.

You turned around to help him, he got awfully dirty, and searched for his glasses that fell off his face.

Once standing, he took out a stick, waved it over him, and all of a sudden the dirt and gravel was gone.

"How did you do that?" You were no stranger to magic, but this was something you've never seen before. And why would he do it in front of you? For all he knew, you were an unknowing human.

"What?" He asked eyebrows furrowed together, accent strong.

"With the stick."

He chuckled shoving the stick back in his cloak.

"The stick." He smiled and looked you up and down. "It's a wand. You must not be from around here."

"Yeah, what tipped you off?" You noticed the lightning bolt scar on his head. You wondered how he got it.

"The accent, the clothes, the inability to recognize a simple wand, the ability to be here, not recognizing me, and wait - where is your cloak?"

"Cloak?"

"You were just invisible a moment earlier but I don't see your cloak anywhere."

"I don't have one. I can make myself invisible without a piece of fabric or your fancy stick." You say sarcastically. Were you flirting?

"Handy." He grins. "The name's Harry Potter."

He holds his hand out for you to shake. "Y/N L/N."

He asks you if you want to talk somewhere besides a dark dirty alley. You agreed. It took some convincing though to let him use his stick to clean the clothes you had on, but to change your outfit to something less, standout-ish.

When you felt the witch hat on your head you immediately snatched it off your head and glared at him.

He just laughed.

Once out of the alley, you breathed in the now clean air, and was mesmerized. People were bustling in and out of small shops, animals were flying and chirping around their owners, children were running around with their friends and siblings, and people were waving sticks, or wands, just like Harry used.

"C'mon, this way." He smiled at your awestruck face. It reminded him of when he first arrived with Hagrid all those years ago.

He brought you inside a coffee shop, and sat you at a booth near the window knowing you'd probably want to still look outside at the new scenes.

After ordering, and a few moments of silence as you looked around, you decided to ask some questions.

"Where am I?"

"We're in Diagon Alley. It's like an outside mall."

"I mean like, planet? I guess?"

"Earth."

"Earth?"

"Well, more specifically London. Diagon Alley."

"London?! I'm in London?!"

"You've never been? To Earth? Or London?"

You rolled your eyes silently cursing Strange. "I'm from Earth. The United States, actually. I just wish he'd put me on a fucking plane or something instead of making it seem like I was going to Mars."

"He?" Harry was very curious.

You looked into his green eyes, your mind wandering. The guy in front of you was very attractive. His dark hair complimented his eyes, and his glasses made him even more attractive.

"You guys are wizards right?"

"Really? What gave you that impression?" He asks sarcastically. "The sticks, the pointy hats, or the big bowl with green liquid sitting outside?”

You rolled your eyes. "Very funny. It's not my fault you live into the stereotype of brewing potions in your cauldrons -"

"Oh well I can only assume you're one of those Avengers from the States, yeah?" He grins. "You guys are all over the news."

"Yes, sure -"

"And don't one of you wear capes and another shoot lasers or lightning or whatnot? Sounds very stereotypical to me."

You laugh as the waitress brings over your drinks and muffins. You thank her. "No, well yes, that's Strange and Thor, but that's besides the point -"

"Well of course it's strange." He grins and winks and you over his mug. He was purposely annoying you and found great joy in it.

"Anyway," you sigh getting back to the point. "Do you guys have a Wizard here, like a powerful, trusting, all-knowing kind of guy?"

His eyes dropped slowly and his smile dimmed for a moment before slowly widening once again.

"Had. His name was Dumbledore."

"Our guy is Stephen Strange. Or Dr. Strange. He sent me here, and I'm not sure why."

"Hmmm." He hums setting down his mug. "Are the states in danger? Were you sent here on a secret quest that would put you through tough trials that would risk your life but would ultimately save everyone you've ever loved so you just have to do it?"

You were in a silent shock. "Uhm. No, not that I'm aware of, no."

"Well then perhaps your Wizard Strange is playing matchmaker."

"Matchmaker?"

"Well you were sent here weren't you?" You nod. "Arrived outside the exact place where I was and I just happened to bump into you? Sounds like a set-up to me."

"Or a coincidence."

"I'd like to think it was fate that I bump into the most attractive person I've ever seen and they don't know who I am and won't judge me 'cause of my past." He took a bite of his muffin.

"Should I be worried?"

"I guess you'll have to figure that out yourself." He winks.

You decide to eat your muffin as well. It was a comfortable silence until you looked out of the window and noticed a guy crouching down behind a cauldron...with a camera.

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Why is there a man outside taking pictures of you?"

His eyes widened. "Oh shit." He whispered. "Here." He took out a baseball cap and put it over your head, hiding your face from the camera.

He gets out of his seat quickly pulling you along with him to the back of the shop but before you could say anything he had his wand pulled out.

Next thing you saw was a couch and living room.

"Wow." You panted. "What a way to bring a girl home."

"I apologise Y/N, I block them out so much I forget they're even there and now they've seen you, and have a story and -"

"Wait, wait, wait, are you wanted for murder or something?"

Harry walks over to his bookshelf and pulls out a rather large book. After opening up on the table, he waved his wand over it and beckons you over to read it.

'Boy who lived.'

'Golden boy defeats Voldemort'

'winner of Triwizard tournament'

And there was so much more… 'Harry Potter' in bold just strewn across the pages. His whole life story.

Your eyes widen at everything. "So both and neither. War hero. How come I've never heard of you? Or any of this?"

He smiles at the pages fondly, running his fingers across the letters and reminiscing on his times at Hogwarts.

"Unlike you Avengers, we like to keep our business private and quiet. We don't like prying eyes."

You scoff. "Not our fault we have alien invasions every year."

Harry agreed and for the rest of the night you sat on his couch talking and sometimes arguing, over every little thing. It felt like you two had known each other forever.

You're not sure when, but you fell asleep there and woke with your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around your waist. You're not sure how the two of you ended up this way, and you realized you were practically strangers, but you didn't want to move. You just wanted to tangle your fingers through his dark hair.

But you didn't. Instead you stared at his closed eyes, and focused on his long, dark, eyelashes that fluttered a little from time to time. You thought about how you could get used to this. Waking up with his arm wrapped around you.

You told him last night that if he was actually a serial killer, and wanted to kill you that you had a whole team of people who would rip him limb from limb. He had no doubts and looked actually scared of your threat.

You thought about what it'd be like to live here among people like you.

Stomach grumbling, you decided to get up and see if he had anything you could make for him. It's the least you could do. His face turned when you left his arms, but you quickly pulled the blanket over him so he would be able to sleep a little longer.

You found his bathroom, and washed your face. In your backpack was a toothbrush and some toothpaste so you brushed your teeth, fixed your hair, and got dressed.

By the time you got out of the bathroom, you noticed Harry was still sleeping so you went into the kitchen and tried to find anything remotely close to breakfast foods. By the look of his inventory, you could tell he was very good at cooking but hadn’t been to the store in a while. He did have some eggs and toast though so you decided to make that.

In the middle of it, you got a phone call from Strange.

“Strange?”

“Harry Potter.” he says.

“What?” you were so confused as to how Stephen knew ANYTHING.

“You’re in his place, we've been tracking you.”

“So I guess we should probably have a talk about privacy? I don’t know, it just seems like something we should discuss you know? Cause usually people can respect that - especially people who just DUMP you here in the first place -“

“Calm down that’s what the mission was. While you were sleeping, we searched the place with a camera we put on you and he’s not who we thought he was. You completed the mission L/N. Great job.”

“Is he a danger?”

“Not necessarily. Just making sure your fine is all.”

“What -?”

He hung up.

Why wouldn’t Strange tell you his intentions? Why would he let you stay here if he thought Harry might have been a bad guy? Why would he risk that?

Right as you hung up Harry Potter walked into the kitchen with his lenses in between his shirt - he was cleaning his glasses.

His dark hair hung over his eyes but his eyebrows were raised.

“You made breakfast?”

“It was the least I could do. I didn’t mean to fall asleep but thank you for letting me stay.”

He smiled and put his glasses back on. In doing so his gray shirt lifted and you could see his abs. You turned away a blushed.

“It was no big deal. Thank you for making breakfast, love. You didn’t have to.”

You didn’t say anything and instead placed both of your finished plates on the dining room table. He followed you and sat down immediately digging in.

“These are the best eggs i’ve ever eaten Y/N thank you.”

You smiled in response but then frowned remembering your conversation with Strange. You should probably tell Harry.

“So,” you cleared your throat. “You were wrong.”

He gave you a look that meant “about?”

“Dr. Strange - the wizard I work with - he likes to check out potential threats and make sure that ya’know - the earth stays safe and everything. Je can kind of see the future and its propabilities. He did the same thing with Thor and his brother Loki.”

“Okay, go on.”

You cringed. “And so he called me and told me that he sent me here so he could see you? I don’t know I guess he saw you as a threat and wanted to make sure you weren’t.”

You looked at Harry but his face was clear of any and every emotion. He just continued to eat his eggs. It was silent.

You ate a bit at your eggs too until he spoke up which made you look up.

“I can’t say I’m very surprised honestly. With everything you guys manage to fuck up there I’d wanna know if someone else was about to create shit problems too.”

You sighed with relief. He wasn’t mad.

“I’m sorry really Harry, I didn’t even know.”

“No yeah it’s fine. I get it. I still think he sent you specifically for a reason though. There’s just no way we aren’t soul mates or something.”

“Oh shut up Potter.”

He smiled. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Gee your head must hurt.”

He squints at you jokingly. “You should let me take you out. I can show you around today. Y’know, so you can see what wizards are like.”

“Is this a date?”

His face flushes red and he looks down at his plate. “Yeah, yeah it’s a date.”

And a date it was.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Harry! Again?!” You practically screamed. Harry called it aparation but you call it hell. You let it go the first time but damn. He barely even warned you, just took your hand, held it tight, pulled you close, and waved his wand.

It was teleportation. Something you’ve never ever done before.

“Fucking hell Potter I’m going to murder you.”

“And Strange was worried about your safety? This is like your 4th time threatening to end my life and besides, it wasn’t even that bad.”

You rolled your eyes.

Throughout the day Harry showed you all sorts of things you’d never ever seen before. This consisted of every flavor jelly beans (and by every flavor they really meant every flavor), a chocolate frog, and never ending bubble gum. And that was just on the candy side.

He took you inside this joke shop ran by two of his friends from his old school he called hogwarts. They were twins that went by the names of Fred and George. The only twins you had ever met was Wanda and Pietro but telling the story of Pietro’s death seemed to sour Harry’s mood but excite the twins. The fact that he sacrificed himself for a little boy made him a hero in their eyes. They begged you to tell them more stories.

By the end of the day you went back to Harry’s place and you were exhausted. You can’t believe all that you’ve seen and eaten. How was this stuff even possible? How was it all hidden? You were amazed.

Harry was glad to see you had a good day and glad that he had met you. When you got back, he told you that you could stay another night...and perhaps in the bed instead of the couch. He hadn’t meant it in a dirty way but that didn’t stop you from laughing until tears came out of your eyes. He was so awkward at times. Once he had to ask if it was okay to take your hand while you were in the street and it was so cute how he couldn’t really find the words even for something as simple as hand holding.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

You both were laying in his bed facing the other.

“I had a lot of fun today. I feel like i’ve known you forever.”

He grinned from ear to ear and was glad that you couldn’t see him. He would have been beyond embarrassed if you’d seen how unmistakably happy that made him.

“I had fun with you Y/N. You’re great company.”

You were silent for a moment.

And another.

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You were scared of his response and your heart was practically beating out of your chest. What if he was just being friendly? What if he just wanted to be friends? You would have made a huge fool of yourself. You were going to turn away embarrassed until his hand came up to your face and slipped onto your cheek. He was so warm. His lips pressed against yours for a moment and then he pulled away.

After a moment he reconnected and moved his lips against yours slowly. Your hand went to the back of his neck and toyed with his hair. He groaned into your mouth. You smiled and scooted even closer to him. All you could hear was the sound of your breathing and kissing. You didn’t want to pull away but you had to.

“Harry.” you said practically breathless.

“Yeah.” he was breathless too.

“I want to show you my world. You should come see New York.”

“Yeah? You wanna show me those alien invasions and robot attacks?”

You laughed and snuggled into Harry. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your neck.

“Mhmm.”

“I’d love to see it.”

Tags:

@romance-geek @gooseyhouse

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a-simple-imagine · 4 years

Text

Run Away With Me

Synopsis: Every moment shared with Charlie Weasley is an adventure all it’s own. How you wish to spend every moment together and all it takes is to run away.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Words: 6.3k+

A/N - Every year I post a story on my birthday and today’s the day I turn a year older. Usually these stories are pretty sad but this year I wrote something a little softer so here is my birthday present for you guys, I hope you enjoy it.

1. A Stolen Kiss

A bright-eyed and clueless young student, excited to be attending a school of magic. Nobody else in your family had magic so it was a big surprise when you received a letter alongside a weird lady who looked like she just stepped out of the early 1920s. Sat between your parents, the older woman explained the entire situation much to your excitement and your parents' confusion.

Diagon alley had been your first experience of all things magical; it had been like stepping into another world instead of just any old street in London. There were book shops lined with all kinds of books, some were bigger than your head while others were tiny. A shop that sold weird and kinda gross jars full of who knows what. There was a place that only sold brooms but according to the list you had read like a hundred times, first years weren't allowed their own brooms. You spent what felt like a lifetime at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions getting fitted for robes. Your parents were utterly fascinated by all the different styles and kept asking questions that made the experience so much longer than it really needed to be. You'd never had a pet before, but after a lot of begging they let you pick out a cat; he was a small Persian cat. Not quite a kitten but not quite fully grown. Checking off each item as you went along, you were exhausted by the end of it. There was even enough time for a trip to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour where you had enjoyed a cone of strawberries and cream with sprinkles on top. All that was left on your list was a wand. Peeling gold letters rested over the door of a shop that read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Stepping inside it was a tiny little store with no costumers. Thousands of narrow boxes lined the walls all the way up to the ceiling. It didn't take long for the weird old man to give you a wand that felt warm in your hand. Unlike the other disasters that came at the result of you waving various wands, a stream of red and gold sparks shoot out the end of this one like a mini firework. The wand chooses the wizard whatever the hell that meant. All ready and packed for Hogwarts, you were really giddy to go. Your mother cried as she waved you off to boarding school but you couldn't sit still. The train ride took hours and it was a little lonely considering you didn't know anyone but as soon as you entered the castle you knew it was exactly where you were meant to be. The building was massive and practically oozed magic and mystery through each brick. The pictures, much to your surprise, were moving on their own. Hogwarts had four houses and each student had to sit on a tall stool, put on a funny talking hat which would decide ultimately where they belong.

The very first friend you made was Nymphadora Tonks but only because she was in all of your classes and by some twist of fate you always ended up seated together. She was a sweet girl with pink hair and a talent for mischief. There was never a dull moment with you two. Then there was Charlie Weasley. Ever since that brisk day in October when he had ridden in clumsily on his white horse to save the day, the two of you had been the best of friends. You were still getting used to all your different classes. Potions class, however, was proving the most difficult. Too many ingredients and types to get used to. Not to mention Snape was just... mean. The task had been to prepare a simple Wiggenweld Potion; a powerful healing potion that can be used to heal injuries, or reverse the effects of a Sleeping Draught. The book was open on the desk as you carefully followed the instructions until.... poof. All the confidence you'd gained since arriving disappeared as Snape scolded you in front of everyone for messing up. Charlie had swooped in to take the blame landing himself in late-night detention. On the other hand, you got to leave with your tail between your legs and a few house points shaved off the total. And yet even his small act of kindness wasn't enough to capture your affection at least not at first. For the little version of yourself was infatuated with another Weasley. An older Weasley.

The nerves of a handful of students could be felt by anyone sat in the great hall for breakfast. Tonks is sat beside you running butter over a piece of toast. Stifling a yawn, Charlie takes a seat across from the two of you sporting a jumper of Gryffindor red and gold.

"Good morning," You flash your cheeriest, half-asleep smile bringing your spoon of Cheeri Owls to your lips. "Nervous?"

"A little," He was looking especially pale today suggesting he was more than just a little.

"You should be," Tonks perks up. "It's only the last game of the season and all hope rides on the seeker,"

"No pressure then," Charlie huffs out a dull laugh. The boy excelled in his position as the Gryffindor seeker but there was no way to determine how he'd play today when he was carrying the hopes and dreams of his teammates and entire house.

"You should eat something," You suggest, pushing a bowl of assorted fruit forward. There was little you could to make him feel better except take his spot but that wasn't allowed. You also probably wouldn't be that good. "Might make you feel better?"

"I'm too nervous to eat," He insisted but he still took an apple; rolling the red fruit between his palms.

"Win or lose you're still number one in our heart, right Tonks?" Elbowing her gently, you shovel another spoonful of 'O' shapes into your mouth.

"Sure," she shrugs. "If you want we can jinx the other team's seeker? I've been practising."

"Or... how much time do we have? I can get one of the older students to brew some Felix Felicis." You play along. "Nothing like a little liquid luck to win a game."

"You both know that's not allowed," Charlie took a large bite of his apple.

"When has Tonks ever cared about rules," Sometimes you wish she did care, you probably wouldn't have ended up in detention so many times alongside her.

"Thanks but no," he took another bite. "We have to win fair and square."

The conversation drifted from nerves to lost spells and planned practical jokes. Charlie seemed to relax a little the more he spoke. Maybe all he needed was a distraction to cheer him up.

"We need to take a trip to Hogsmeade" Tonk announces. "I'm out of dungbombs."

"Urgh- you and that silly joke shop." You can't help but roll your eyes but it was all good-natured. Despite hardly ever buying anything yourself, you spent an awful lot of time at Zonko's infamous little joke shop. "I could do with a trip outside the castle though. You should come too Charlie and maybe... you could ask Bill if he wants to come?"

"You're still gushing over Bill," Now it was Tonks turn to elbow you playfully, her lips curling up into a tantalising smirk.

"I do not gush over him," you state firmly, brows knitting together in a frown. You didn't appreciate being made fun. Bill was older, wiser and always made time to show you kindness. He made your little heart flutter whenever you saw him and Tonks took every opportunity to tease you about it. "I just thought It'd be nice is all. Wouldn't you agree, Charlie?"

"If you want him to come, ask him yourself." He responds, taking a large gulp of his juice.

"She won't because she has a crush."

"I don't have a crush Nymphadora- stop it," It was infinitely more embarrassing talking about this with Charlie sat at the table. "Don't ask him then, I don't care."

"Yes you do," Placing her arm around your shoulder, she pulls you into her side. "Because you're in love-"

"I am not!" You snap, pushing out of her grip.

"I'll see you guys later." The two of you share a look as Charlie disappears without another word. It was probably just pregame nerves.

"You know what? I think I'll get some frogspawn soap too and put it in the prefects' bathroom." Typical Tonks.

You'd come to learn through your time at Hogwarts that Quidditch was the most popular sport among wizards. And each house had their own team who compete for a trophy and bragging rights. Today was the final game thankfully. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Apparently, it came down to these two a lot. As the Gryffindor team filter out of the changing rooms, you slip inside to find Charlie sitting on a little bench.

"Guess who?" You sing-song, slapping your hands over his eyes but only briefly. He turns to look at you with an almost sour expression.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to support you," you reply soft, offering a smile he couldn't even see as he turned away.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Had you done something to upset him? Surely not. This was the first time you were seeing him since breakfast so there hadn't been a moment for you to mess things up and yet, his voice held an icy chill.

"Guess Tonks is rubbing off on me?" You jest, looking around the room. It was empty apart from you two. Bags and clothes scattered across benches or half shoved into lockers. A chalkboard stood in the corner with drawings you couldn't understand. "I just wanted to see how you were doing before the big game, is all. We were worried about you."

"You were worried about me," He repeats slowly, looking up at you. "I thought you hated quidditch."

"I still do," Your shoulders rise in a little shrug. "It's silly. Doesn't matter how hard the team works or how many goals it's pretty much all decided by how good the seeker is so why even have goals?"

"Score enough goals before the snitch is caught and anyone could win," He perks up. "You just don't understand how good and exciting it is."

Your lips curl up in appreciation for Charlie Weasley and his love for quidditch. It didn't possess the sparkle that came along when he talks about dragons but it was still nice to see him liven up. "Then go out there and show me how exciting it is,"

You stand under the spotlight of his gaze as he seemingly takes in your choice of attire; wearing the Gryffindor colours with pride to show your support. You even let Tonks paint your face after she promised not to draw genitalia. "Do you really think we're gonna win? What if I mess up and everyone hates me?"

"Then you mess up and everyone hates you," You shrug a little. "But that's not gonna happen and you know why?" His head shakes slowly. "It's because you're the best seeker at this school Charles Weasley." You place your hands on either side of his shoulders. "And I believe in you."

"How does that help me?" With your index finger under his chin, you force him to meet your eyes.

"Because I'm never wrong."

"That doesn't sound right." He tries to look away but you stop him.

"But it is," You offer a reassuring smile; one full of determination. "You've got this Charlie. So come on before you miss the game entirely."

The cheers outside were seemingly growing louder by the second. With a deep breath, Charlie stands up, grabbing his broom. "You're staying to watch, right?"

"Of course. Tonks is up in the stands too." Taking his hand, you lead the way out of the tent. "Consider us your good luck charms." Charlie brings the both of you to an abrupt stop before you even reach the opening of the tent, pulling you back to him. "What's up?"

The peppering of freckles that covered Charlie's face was even more vibrant against the rose pink blush. You squeeze his hand a little hoping it makes him feel better. And then it happens. The crowd grows silent in your ear but only for a moment as Charlie's surprisingly soft lips crash clumsily against yours. "For good luck," his whispers; his hand slipping from yours as he leaves you dumbfounded.

"He okay?" Tonks asks as you return from your trip.

"Yeah... still nervous," You reply, sitting down beside her. "It's his first big game after all."

"Are you okay?" The crowd erupts into cheers as the Gryffindor team flys in first. You're almost too embarrassed to look for Charlie; worried about what you might find so you keep your head down. "You look like you've just seen a troll or something?"

"Mhmm," you hum, forcing yourself to watch the Slytherin team as they enter. Why had Charlie kissed you? Did it mean he liked you or was he just messing around? Your head swirled with possibilities.

"You want a sweet?" Your friend offers as the game finally starts. It takes you a second to register but you smile, reaching into the little bag she was holding only to come to a stop.

"They're not gonna burn my tongue off or something are they?"

"No," Her chuckle sounded a little too innocent but you trust her for some reason. Taking a piece of confectionery out of the paper bag.

"Charlie... kissed me." You announce, throwing the sweet into you mouth; face scrunching up when they turn out to be sour. Ten points to Slytherin as they take the lead.

"He what?"

"He... kissed me."

2. Together

Who was Bill Weasley but a distant playground crush after that day. And your time of classrooms and magic lessons came swiftly to an end; how bittersweet it felt to leave a place you loved dearly. A once naive little girl stepping into the unknown now called the Wizarding World Home. Now you would go on to be a healer which was simply a magical doctor although your parents strongly disagreed with the comparison. However proud they were of you there would always be some part of them that wished you had chosen to become a lawyer or 'real' doctor.

Bathed in the warm embrace of the setting sun, you ponder the tranquility in a bed of green grass. The youngest Weasley lay beside you, struggling to keep still as often children do. She was similar to her brother in that way who now paced back and forth a mere few steps away. The invitation had been for dinner but you arrived a little early. The burrow was always such a welcoming place like stepping into a home you used to live in many moons ago; it was cosy and warm and there was no doubt that many lived there. You found your house to be almost the opposite, it always looked like nobody lived there. Immaculate. Polished. Cold.

"Will you stop pacing, you're making me nervous." You call out to your boyfriend, opening your eyes only to squint at the bright light. "What's wrong with you?"

Charlie comes to a stop as you sit up; Ginny mimics you in sitting up but the boy's eyes stay on you. The longer he stared, the more the pit in your stomach grew; what exactly hid behind his blank expression. He normally possessed such a playful warmth but it seemed to have vanished as of late. Plucking a stray purple flower, you enclose it in the palm of your hands. "You know I love dragons right?"

"Of course," Since meeting him, he had probably managed to slip dragons into every conversation you had ever had. It was at a point where you knew far more about dragons than you ever really cared to know. Many found his obsession annoying because that's what he so obviously was, obsessed but you found it enticing. Charming, even. Opening up your hand, a small butterfly with deep plum-purple wings flutters into the air and onto a giggly Ginny's nose. The innocent glee of a child; how those days were gone for you. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Promise you won't be mad?" It would be foolish to make such a promise when there was no way to guarantee your reaction. Whatever it was must be bad, if he was this worried. Your shoulders rise a little then fall.

"I make no such promises- just tell me."

Charlie took a breath that travelled on the wind to your ears before he blurted out. "I'm moving to Romania."

"Okay," Is your first reaction while your brain tries to make sense of something it didn't want to hear. "Wait- what?"

"Charlie is moving away to work with big scary dragons," Ginny announces playfully, baring her little hands like claws.

The once small pit grew into a mighty black hole of uncertainty and sadness that threatened to swallow you whole. There had been conversations shared between friends of Charlie wanting to move away to a foreign land, just to finally see a dragon but you had never taken it at face value. Always so convinced it was but a dream rather like those of when you were little and you wished to be a vampire. Technically back then you didn't know they actually existed but still, even now it was never going to come true. Eyes cast upon the second eldest Weasley, he kicks up the grass with his hands buried in the pockets of his pants. "It's the nearest Dragon reserve."

That was something you already knew but it didn't make the decision, at least in your eyes, any less confusing. Instead, it prompted water to well up in your eyes for this was something that affected not only him and his family but your life too. "I... I don't know what to say,"

"Hey Ginny, can you go check if dinner's ready yet?"

"No- why can't you do it?" The bark behind her words was very in character for the fiesty young Weasley. Blinking away the tears, you plaster on the best smile you can muster.

"If you go check on dinner I promise we can play a game later, okay? Exploding snap maybe?"

"Really?" She eyes you suspicious probably because it was a promise you had broken before. Not always for the right reasons but this time it was genuine. Charlie clearly wanted this to be a private conversation or perhaps he was just saving you for the inevitable moment where she asks why you're crying. Ginny scrambles to feet when you nod and skips off towards the gravity-defying house. It still amazed you that the building hadn't fallen yet. Rising to your feet you brush yourself off.

"You know I want nothing more than to work with Dragons and this is the only way I can do that," There was no mistaking the serious tone that came along with his words. It didn't matter what you said there was no changing his mind but you wouldn't do that anyway. It seemed cruel to even try to get him to give up on something so precious and you would never want to do that to him. "I have an opportunity to do something I love and I won't waste it to get some boring job at the ministry."

"I don't expect you too..." You wanted nothing more than to tell him to stay; beg him even. You were fighting against the selfish little devil that was stabbing you in the heart. It was a dull, deep pain in your chest. You wanted Charlie to follow his dreams, you just never expected them to not include you. "It's just a lot to take in."

"I know," The red-headed boy walks ever so slowly over to you, taking both hands in his. His hands had always felt a little rough ever since Hogwarts. You used to complain back then and insist he needed to moisturise but over time you had grown fond of the familiarity. How you wished this tender moment could last forever because it very well might be your last. You're caught off guard when he yanks you forward. You stumble into his chest where he wraps his arms around you like the big teddy bear he was. You breathe in every inch of him like it was the last time. The intoxicating aroma of an early walk in the woods; that fresh earthy smell that really makes you appreciate where you are. You could almost picture the pine trees.

"I feel like I'm losing you," Your words but a whisper, lost on the breeze.

"You're not," His grip around you tightens and suddenly your in the air, spinning around. "You could never get rid of me that easily.

"Charlie," You fight back a smile as you return to the ground; burying your face in the nook of his neck. "What's gonna happen to us?"

"About that-"

"Because I don't know if I can do the whole long-distance thing? So do we break up?" The tears threaten to fall once again as you pull back to get a good look at him. You never wanted to forget the emerald of his eyes or each and every freckle that called his body home. The unusual scare that adorned his eyebrow that was always amusing to look at. If that was his true purpose to break up with you then there would be no stopping the tears when they finally burst through the damn.

"No, I-"

"Because that's a little mean Charlie, you could have at least waited until after dinner. Should have done it first actua-"

You words become mumbled by the palm of his hand which he's placed over your mouth like a seal of protection. "Shush for a minute."

It's hard to resist so you simply don't; sticking your tongue you deliberately lick the palm of his hand but it seems to not phase him whatsoever.

"I'm not breaking up with you, silly," You meet his gaze. "I was kind of thinking you could come with me?"

Reaching up, you yank his hand away. "To Romania? You've got to be joking."

"Why not?"

Did you even know how to answer that? There were so many reasons why one should not just up and leave to go live in a completely different country with the boy they dated through high school. "I can't just up and leave my family- my mum will be devastated."

"I'll talk to her about it," Charlie hums softly, placing a delicate kiss upon your forehead. "Your mum loves me and she wants you to be happy."

"Dinner's Ready," For such a small girl, Ginny had one big mouth. There was no mistaking her call. However, this whole situation now felt a little... off. Could you even sit through dinner without it all becoming weird?

"We're coming," Charlie yells back; offering up his hand which you reluctantly take and he leads the way back to the house. "You want to be a healer right? You could do that in Romania."

"I guess," You weren't exactly worried about not finding a job.

"You don't have to decide right now," He tells you before you have a chance to speak up again. "Just think about it. I mean the invitation is there and for what it's worth, I'd really like you to come."

3. Creeping doubts

It took a lot of convincing but despite everything you decided to follow Charlie into the Unknown. Your parents weren't thrilled with the decision but they respected it; they were just worried about what would happen if something went wrong. And as their only child, they would obviously miss you. A lot of time was spent at the burrow that summer before moving to Romania; you were beginning to feel like an honorary Weasley only with the experience of having been a muggle for the first eleven years of your life. It was but a three-hour flight to Romania and your mother had sobbed at the airport. It made you think back to your first time stepping onto the Hogwarts express, leaving your parents behind to go to a magical boarding school in Scotland. It was a peculiar thought but a nice one. One you wished to cherish. Now in a foreign land with no support system behind you other than a boy you had been dating for years, you were ready for a new adventure. And there was officially no doubt in your mind that you would do just about anything for Charlie Weasley.

"It's not much," Charlie sets his suitcase down on the table. "Best I could do, for now, I'm afraid."

"It's fine," It was an old apartment in a building full of what you assumed were muggles. There was a small living room area with an ugly pea-coloured couch nestled against one wall. Beside it was a small coffee table and on the other side of the room was a TV, you weren't convinced actually worked. Then there was the kitchen which was attached to the living room. It had a fridge, a cooker and some cupboards. The only other room was a bedroom that literally only housed a bed in at the moment, then there was a door that leads on to the bathroom. It definitely wasn't much but a crappy apartment was just part of the experience, right? At least that's what you were telling yourself. "it'll feel like home soon enough," You had everything you needed to make this place feel like home right in your suitcase; oh the joys of magic. Patting yourself down, you search for the key to easy unpacking. "Uh... have you seen my wand?"

His head shakes and wears an amused grin. "You remembered to bring it right?"

"Yes," you huff. "I was gonna unpack," Falling back against the wall, you slide down onto the floor which you imagine hasn't been cleaned in a while considering the dust. "It's gonna take so long without my wand- which may actually be in the suitcase now that I think about it."

"Did you forget I'm a wizard too?"

"You do it then," You drop your head back against the wall. "I'm starving."

"actually have you seen my wand?"

You giggle to yourself "You're an idiot,"

"Hey- you lost your wand too." His shadow lingers over you as he comes to join you against the wall. Taking up a seat beside you, your head falls to rest against his shoulder.

"Can we get pizza? I saw some of those leaflets when we came in so we could order some?"

"Whatever you want, my love."

As time ticks on the pizza box is left discarded in the kitchen as the two of you retire for the night. Who knew not actually unpacking but simply thinking about it while eating pizza on the dirty ground could be so much work. You struggle to hold back a yawn as you snuggle up to him trying to absorb as much of his body heat as you can. All that lay across the two of you were a blanket and this building was next exactly the warmest. "Do you think we'll be okay? "You ponder aloud; it was a question that had been on your mind since agreeing to follow him to Romania. For not many people stay together with their high school loves. What if things fall apart now that you're in the 'real' world? What if this was all just a huge mistake?

"What do you mean?" Always such a simple boy; you wonder how he deals with his anxieties. Did he actually not know what you meant or was he merely putting on a brave face? A once proud Gryffindor suggested that he always looked to be brave above anything else.

"Do you think we'll be okay?" You repeat as if that somehow answers his question but it must have done something because even in the darkness you can just tell he's smiling.

"You worry way too much." Charlie laughs.

"You don't worry enough,"

He lays a kiss upon the top of your head, his hand moving up and down your arm. "It used to be the other way around."

"I was young and reckless back then. "How you missed the days where you ran around the halls of Hogwarts with reckless abandon. Well, not entirely reckless that was more Tonks but things had definitely felt simpler back then.

"You're still young and reckless now, I just have to hear you stress about it afterwards." Charlie taunts, pinching your arm. You recoil at the sharp pain.

"Shush."

"Being in Romania doesn't change anything," He expresses; his voice sounding louder in the quiet darkness. "I loved you back home and I still love you now. I'm really glad you decided to come with me."

Hoping to distract yourself from every worrying thought that clouded your brain you decide it's time to change the subject. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Getting to work with Dragons all day every day? that's like dream come true."

"A dangerous one," Dragons were perhaps the most vicious creatures around other than humans. As captivating as they were and as much as charlie adored them, you couldn't help but worry about his safety. It seemed no matter the topic this evening you'd find a way to stress yourself out.

"I'll be fine, I'll have you there to patch me up," That he will for you had taken on the role as a healer willing to help out with all the injuries that inevitably come from dealing with dragons. You wouldn't admit it but you weren't quite convinced you were up to the task; you had never actually dealt with dragon-related injuries so this was like diving headfirst into the ocean when you only just learned how to swim in a training pool. "and if not- well, we had a good run."

"Don't joke about that," Nuzzling against his chest, you finally let your eyes close. Today was the start of forever with the one and only Charles Weasley and here he was joking about his ultimate demise.

4. The perfect day

It's peculiar how life can just fall into place. Your odd little world of dragons and leaky apartment buildings just became the norm. You had come to love your work at the reserve, Dragons were actually incredibly cool up close. Not to mention getting to see Charlie work with them after years of never shutting up about them was truly a sight to behold. Every day, it was like taking an excited little boy to his first day of school. His eyes simply lit up whenever he was at work although it was hard explaining his injuries to the neighbours when they were being nosey. You also had to be careful when using magic since you were basically living with muggles and it would be a headache if they ever found out.

With your site blocked by a thin piece of fabric, Charlie guides you carefully forward with his hands skillfully placed upon your arms to steer. This was the first day off the two of you have shared in a long time. Little information was given about your destination other than it being a surprise. With Charlie that could mean just about anything which wasn't always a good thing but you trusted him enough to believe he wasn't leading you into a dragon's den or something. A gentle breeze nipped at the skin of your neck and the ground felt soft under your feet. The gentle singing of a symphony of birds filled the air and the sun beamed down with remarkable easy. All this suggested you were somewhere withdrawn in nature. Charlie had always been one for the great outdoors. There were countless times you had found him sneaking in or out of the forbidden forest back at school.

"Am I going to like this surprise?" You inquire; your anxiety building with each step. You would much prefer to simply know what was going on rather than experience some dramatic reveal especially today of all days. Every year the boy seems to forget that he agreed not to make a big deal.

"I sure hope so," You practically slam into him as she comes to an unexpected standstill. "Because I don't think I can return it."

"Return what? Oh god- can I take my blindfold off?"

As the flimsy fabric skims the length of your face to settle loosely around your neck, your eyes take a minute to adapt. You don't know quite what you were expecting but this was not it. Before you stands a small cottage surrounded by nothing but a wide-open field full of a rainbow of wildflowers. It was a beautiful little house with as much charm and beauty you'd expect from a place out in what seems like the middle of nowhere. It could be described as the perfect place to settle down.

"Surprise!" He was redder than a cherry tomato when he stepped into view. Both arms in the air as a sign of celebration but you were just rather... confused? Whose house was this and why had he brought you all the way out here?

"I don't get it?"

"We've been here for a while now so I thought we should get our own place or like, a better place. One where we don't have to worry about anyone else." His confidence appeared to develop with each word but his face was still powdered in a deep shade of pink. S this was your house? He'd decided to up and move without even consulting you? "So I got us a little cottage in the middle of nowhere. It kinda reminds me of the burrow only, y'know, smaller."

"It's ours?" His excitement is clear on his face and he quickly takes your hand. Pulling you along with him. "And that's not all."

"There's more?" Surely a whole house was enough. You were quite proud of Charlie for picking such a beautiful little place. Come summertime, you could already see yourself sitting among the flowers painting little pictures. You also wouldn't have to worry about muggles. Coming up on the front door, your boyfriend delivers you a little golden key. And with just a tiny degree of fear about what could be on the other side you unlock it. Much to your astonishment and disappointment, nothing is behind the door except the hallway leading inside. Charlie enters first and even as you follow, you half expect someone to jump out.

"I know I agreed not to make a big deal but how could I not?" He opens a door at the end of the hallway that leads to the kitchen. It's not a massive space but it's assuredly not small either, the whole place was already furnished but you recognise the surprise was truly what sat on the table. It was a two-tier cake covered in blue frosting including the words Happy Birthday scrawled across the top followed by your name.

"You... baked?"

"Mum sent it actually," Charlie chortled lightly as he wanders up behind you. Tossing a package of red with multicoloured polka-dots onto the table. "Sent this along too. Reckon it's a jumper or something."

"That was nice of her," You weren't sure of how to react to it all. Birthdays had never really been your thing but you appreciated that Mrs. Weasley had gone out of her way to make you something special.

"And from me..." He trails off and the sound of tiny tracks echo off the walls attended by an adorable yelp. Up to your feet slides an ash grey puppy who was more legs than anything else. It had bright blue eyes and floppy ears.

"You got me a dog?"

"I got us a dog- thought we needed a pet around here. I debated getting a crup but that'd be a disaster if your parents ever decide to visit." Crups were notorious for their dislike of muggles. You never understood why but he was right in his decision. The gesture was sweet but rather odd all things considered but still you smile. It was hard to be mad at something so cute and you weren't just talking about the dog. The puppy sits at your feet, wagging its little tail a mile a minute. There was no denying how adorable it was and at least it wasn't a dragon. Or a murtlap for that matter, those things were ugly. "You don't seem happy... do you not like him? I can take him back?" Kneeling, your hand drifts over the soft fur of the puppy's head. In response, the dog jumps up in an attempt to lick at your face. Your smile grows as you try to get away. "I think he likes you."

"What's his name?"

"Whatever you want? He's a Great Dane by the way." The puppy had calmed down a little and you stare as you ponder the perfect name for an ash grey Great Dane. "How about... Arlo?"

"Arlo?"

"Mhmm," You hum standing up straight. "And I'm plenty happy if not a little overwhelmed. You know how I feel when it comes to my birthday."

"I do," He nods casually. His palms snake around your waist drawing you flush against him "But I never want you to forget that someone cares about you- that I care about you so bloody much."

"I know you do," You give him a quick peck on the lips. "And I'm thankful for that and for all of this."

"Arlo is the perfect name, Happy Birthday" Your lips connect in a beautifully slow embrace that fills your body with warmth and as he pulls away, his forehead comes to rest against yours. The dog barking as it explores the kitchen. "I'm just so grateful that you decided to run away with me."

#Charlie Weasley x reader #Charlie Weasley #charlie weasley imagine #hogwarts mystery #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

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snowdice · 3 years

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 42]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Alright. Time for a bit more editing because I decided to just go to bed last night.

Chapter 16

“Well done,” Logan complimented when Virgil looked up at him for approval. It was the first time Virgil was trying to make the protection charms without Logan’s direct help. Logan was, of course, still in the room in case he had questions and the boy had a written set of instructions next to him, but for the most part Virgil was doing it on his own.

“Now,” Virgil said squinting down at the paper next to him, “we wait for 35 minutes.”

“Fifty actually,” Logan corrected.

“Oh, yeah, right,” Virgil said. He grabbed the timer and set it for the appropriate time. Then, he stepped away from Logan’s nontoxic potion station. Logan saw him edge a bit closer to peak at what Logan was working on, though he was careful to maintain a distance. Logan wasn’t sure if this was because he’d been warned of the possible harmful substances Logan sometimes used at his experiment table or because he was worried Logan might not want him to approach.

Logan looked up at him. “You can come closer. Nothing here is very dangerous.”

Virgil nodded and walked over to peer at the boiling pot. “What are you making?” he asked.

“I am once again attempting to invent a potion that will reliably remove cat hair from clothing and blankets,” Logan said, glancing over at Patton.

Patton looked up from the bracelet he was making and stuck his tongue out at Logan.

“I can never seem to find an adequate solution,” Logan said.

“The solution is to accept all parts of kitty love!” Patton insisted.

“Or maybe the solution is to exile you from my room for the rest of time,” Logan muttered. Patton chose to ignore him and went back to working on the bracelet.

“Do you want any help?” Virgil offered Logan.

Logan smiled at him. “I’m actually almost finished with this step and there isn’t much left to do but thank you.”

Virgil nodded. “Oh, okay,” he said. He shifted back and forth a few times.

“You’re well on your way to mastering this potion,” Logan said. “I was thinking that I could start teaching you how to make a tracking charm. I marked a passage about it in the book on that shelf.” He gestured to the shelf near the station Virgil had been working at. “Why don’t you go ahead and read that while you wait?”

“The…” Virgil said. “The green book?”

“Yes,” Logan said. “I left a bookmark in the correct page.”

“Um… yeah, sure. I’ll go… read that.”

Logan nodded and turned back to put the finishing touches on his own potion as Virgil walked away. A few minutes later, he finished up what he was doing to his potion and covered it to let it simmer. He looked over to see that Patton had flopped onto his back, still working on the bracelet and Virgil had sat near to him with the book open on his lap. Logan walked over to them.

“What do you think?” Logan asked.

Virgil glanced up at him. “Erm,” he said. “Looks good.”

“Which option do you like best?”

“…The second one.”

“Really?” Logan asked, surprised.

“Uh… yes?”

“I’m surprised,” Logan commented. “I figured you would shy away from the ones that require your own blood.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he said. “I… didn’t notice that. I would like to not do that one, please.”

“You didn’t notice?” Logan asked. “Half of the entire first page is dedicated to a discussion of it.”

There was a beat of awkward silence.

“Virgil,” Logan said slowly. “Would you read the first paragraph on that page for me?”

Virgil grimaced.

“You can’t read?!”

“Logan, tone,” Patton snapped when Virgil flinched.

Logan took a breath. “I am not upset that you cannot read, but what have you been doing for the past week when I have given you written instructions for the protection charm potion?”

“Not… reading it.”

“How have you been making the potion?” Logan asked.

“I just remember the steps, and if I’m not sure I ask. You’re usually distracted enough that you barely notice.”

“If I had known this, we would have done a completely auditory explanation.”

“Sorry.”

Logan sighed. “You didn’t need to pretend, Virgil.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “Sorry.”

Logan just shook his head. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for. In fact, you are the one who is owed apologies from many people in your life for a multitude of reasons.” He knelt down to take the book from him. “Here,” he said. “For now, I will read this passage to you while we wait for the potions to finish brewing. Later we can talk about changing my lesson plans in reference to the potions as well as adding reading lessons into your schedule.”

“You… want to teach me how to read?” Virgil asked.

“If you are willing,” Logan replied. “It’s a useful skill to have and opens up many doors.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it,” Virgil said with a frown.

“If you can memorize an entire potion recipe from start to finish with inadequate vocal instructions, I’m sure you can learn the alphabet perfectly well.”

“Okay,” he replied, sounding a bit doubtful.

“And once we get you to an appropriate level, I’ll let you read a book about stars I enjoyed in my youth.” He seemed pleased with that prospect, and Logan smiled at him. “For now though, let’s read this together.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. Logan opened the book in his lap and started to read. He noticed that Virgil was leaning over to look at the page despite the fact that he couldn’t read it, and so he began to point to the words as he read. His reactions to the words on the page were honestly quite funny when Logan caught them. His nose would scrunch up in confusion every time he thought an instruction nonsensical, and he’d squint his eyes at the words as though willing the sounds and letters to connect in his head. Logan wouldn’t be surprised with his memory if he had parts of it memorized by the end.

After a few minutes of reading, a light weight descended on Logan’s shoulder. Virgil had settled his chin on Logan’s shoulder to peer at the words. Logan did his best not to draw attention to this fact and shot a glare at Patton when he clearly noticed, sitting up to smile widely at them. Luckily, Patton was sensible enough not to squeal as he oh so clearly wanted to. Logan pointed out a picture while explaining what the caption said and then gave a personal antecedent. Virgil touched the page curiously and asked a question about the story before laying his head back down on Logan’s shoulder. They continued in this way until the potions were finished.

Chapter 17

Virgil’s suspicion was growing. Logan and Patton seemed to have something planned. Luckily, whatever it was didn’t seem to be malicious, at least, Virgil hoped it wasn’t. He truly didn’t think that Patton had it in him to be so clearly excited about anything cruel. He also didn’t think Logan had it in him to be cruel, he was just was better at masking his excitement.

“What?” Logan asked innocently when Virgil gave him a pointed look the second Patton left to do ‘something’. Virgil would almost believe he truly wasn’t planning anything if it wasn’t for the way his lips twitched just a bit at the corners. Virgil glared harder.

Logan dared to laugh lightly at the expression on his face. “Come here,” he requested. “Patton wanted me to make you pick out a book for him to read to you tonight since, I quote ‘You’ve gotten to read him all sorts of stories the last few days.’ I attempted to explain that it was not purely for fun, but he insisted.”

Virgil grumbled, but wandered over to look over at the books laid out on Logan’s bed, settling his chin on Logan’s shoulder. “What do they say?” he asked.

Logan pointed to each in turn. “Five Dragons and a Flame. The End of May. A Stone in the Meadow. Or you can continue to read The Never-ending Garden.”

“I want to finish The Never-Ending Garden,” Virgil decided.

“Good choice.”

“Now will you tell me what you’re doing?” Virgil asked.

Logan just chuckled. Honestly, it was like he didn’t know that he had an assassin right next to his carotid artery. “Why do you think something is happened?”

“Patton’s a shit liar.”

“Be careful,” Logan said. “I might just have to tell him you said that.”

“Then I’ll tell him what you said when you accidently dropped the lavender into that potion,” Virgil threatened back.

“Hmm,” Logan said. “Truce?”

“On that,” Virgil agreed, “but you still need to tell me what’s going on.”

“It is a surprise. A nice surprise,” Logan informed him. He looked at Virgil’s face. “Don’t pout at me.”

Virgil had not been aware that what he was doing was pouting, but he did whatever it was harder.

“Patton would murder me,” Logan claimed, “but I suggest you try that on him the next time you have a chance. You will certainly get whatever you want.”

Virgil sighed and gave up, figuring he’d learn whatever the surprise was soon enough. He chose to flop down on top of the pile of pillows on the floor that had been laid out already. It was his fourth ever slumber party and the first had only been a week ago. He did not know much about slumber parties, but that felt like a lot.

Goodness, it had already been two weeks. He looked up at the ceiling. He felt safe here. He felt like he didn’t need to watch Logan’s every move as he organized things in his room, but it wasn’t going to last, was it? The king was set to be back in a week. Virgil needed to actually attempt to escape soon. He hated that fact. He didn’t want to leave, and he certainly didn’t want to go back. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d figure something else out, but no mater what, he did have to escape, and soon. He looked over at Logan who was slotting the books Virgil hadn’t picked back into place on the bookshelf. Not tonight.

There was a knock on the door in a familiar pattern, and Logan walked over to open it for Patton. Virgil sat up to shoot a confused look at the giant thing that Patton rolled in.

“Ta da!” Patton said excitedly.

Virgil blinked at him.

“It’s food,” Logan explained.

Virgil perked up immediately. That must be a lot of food if he needed that to carry it.

“I know you haven’t gotten a chance to try a lot of different foods, so I asked Mama if I could use the kitchen earlier today and made a bunch of different type of food samples for you to try.”

That sounded like literally the best idea in the universe. These people were very good at surprises and Virgil would not question them again ever for the rest of his life (or, well, the next couple of days he was around them before he tried to escape and either managed it or died a bloody and painful death).

Patton seemed to feed off of Virgil’s excitement, practically vibrating himself as he gestured to different parts of the cart. “We have a bunch of types of cheese and crackers, mini sandwiches, different smoked meats, six types of pasta, and every leftover I could find on this shelf. On this shelf, we have things with hot sauce, things with spicy dry rubs, curries, and things with a lot of peppers. I’ve ordered them by spiciness level so we can what you can handle, and we’ll only go as far as you want. Then this shelf is a bunch of types of cookies, mini cakes, pies, and ice cream!”

“We are not starting with the sweets,” Logan said firmly.

“But Lo!” Patton whined.

“We do not want to make him sick, do we?” Logan asked.

Patton pouted. Virgil honestly had no preference. All food was good food in his experience.

“Fine,” Patton said. “We’ll start with the cheese.”

They had him sit back in the center of the blanket pile and handed him little portions of things. Some of the cheese tasted weird at first and Patton would giggle at the faces of surprise he made, but Virgil managed to if not like, then tolerate almost all of them.

Then came the different sandwiches, some hot and some cold and all of the pasta and leftovers. Virgil eyed the plate of fettuccine alfredo long after they had moved on.

“You can have some more at the end if you still have room,” Logan promised with a fond smile. Virgil frowned at him. “You want to try all of the food, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can’t eat an entire plate of fettucine alfredo.”

“Maybe you can’t,” Virgil said darkly.

Logan just rolled his eyes and passed him another plate.

Eventually they moved on to the next shelf full of what was deemed ‘spicy food.’

“Part of this is figuring out what level of spiciness you can handle,” Patton said. “So, tell us when it gets to be a bit too much and we’ll move on two the deserts. Also, milk helps wash the spicy stuff that so drink some if you need to!”

Virgil nodded and accepted the first dish on that rack.

Virgil, it turned out, liked what they called “spicy” food even though some of it made his nose run a little bit. It was kind of fun to eat them, honestly. Some of them hurt a tiny bit, but they also tasted really good. It was strange.

“I am impressed and horrified,” Logan said when he finished that shelf. “Do you… have nerve endings in your mouth?”

Virgil shrugged. “Well,” Patton said, sounding pleased. “Now it’s time for the best part! Assuming you still have room.” Virgil nodded immediately and Patton handed him a plate he’d covered with chunks of cookies he’d torn off. He ate every single one of those and then went through the rest of the deserts. Everything was fantastic and he’d like to investigate a few of the cakes once more, but…

He pointed insistently at the fettuccine alfredo.

Logan shook his head but handed it over. “How many stomachs do you have?”

Virgil did not care to respond, choosing instead to shove his mouth full of pasta.

When he was done with that, he laid back to relax and digest the food, feeling very content. Logan and Patton had also eaten a bit of the different dishes and were finishing up themselves.

“You good there?” Patton asked after a moment of Virgil just laying with his eyes closed.

Virgil nodded.

“Did you like your surprise?”

“Uh huh.”

“It seems he will not be doing any of the other planned activities for a little while at least,” Logan said. “So now might be a good time for you two to read,” he suggested. “I’ll get the rest of the food stored in case we want something more later.”

“Okay,” Patton agreed. Virgil didn’t open his eyes, but felt Patton settle next to him. Virgil rolled slightly, so his head rested against the side of Patton’s leg. A hand touched softly down on the top of Virgil’s head and Virgil heard a page flip. “So, let’s see. I’m not sure when exactly you fell asleep last time, but how about we start at the Troll Bridge?”

Virgil hummed his ascent.

“Okay,” Patton agreed as he started to read. “‘Melly stepped onto the bridge backwards while sticking her tongue out at Al, but Lydia’s eyes widened as a large looming figure stepped up behind her….’” Virgil listened happily to him read about the four children. He liked this book. He hoped they managed to finish reading it before Virgil had to go.

Chapter 18

They made it all the way to the big blowout between Al and Melly where Melly got mad and left the group to their fate in the magical garden by the time Virgil awakened completely from his food coma (he’d never actually fallen asleep, or at least he always responded when Patton asked) and squirmed around for a bit before sitting up.

Logan hadn’t been particularly interested in the story he’d heard many times before and was reading a book of his own on Patton’s other side, but he put a bookmark in his book when Virgil sat.

“Want to take a break from reading?” Patton asked. “We can do a bit more later, but we have more than just food and books planned for tonight.

“Okay,” Virgil agreed easily.

“Great!” Patton said clapping his hands. “We’re going to introduce you to the most fun sleepover party event ever!”

Virgil tilted his head.

“Dress up!” Patton said. “Also make-overs. We’ll do you first and then we’ll help you learn how to help pick out other people’s outfits and make-up. If you want to, of course.”

“Sure,” Virgil said with a shrug.

“Yay!” Patton hopped to his feet. “You stay here. Lo and I will get everything ready.”

He pulled Logan to his feet and over to the chair that was the perfect height for doing make-up.

They set up what they’d need for make-up and then Patton instructed Logan to grab the clothes of his they usually used for this sort of thing out the closet that Virgil wasn’t set up in while he grabbed the pieces he himself had brought upstairs and strew them over the bed so they could see anything.

Smiling happily, Patton looked over at Virgil who had stood up in the giant pile of pillows and blankets to watch him with intense eyes. He looked like he was memorizing every action Patton took as though expecting a test at the end. He was so adorable. A rush of affection and a touch of mischief hit him suddenly.

“Hey Virgil,” Patton said. Virgil looked over at him. “Can I tackle hug you into that pile of pillows?”

“Tackle hug?” he asked.

“I run over and hug you so hard that we fall into the blankets. I do it to Logan all the time without warning, but I didn’t want to confuse you.”

Virgil considered the offer for a couple of seconds. “Okay,” he finally decided.

“Great!” Patton did a little hop before launching himself across the room. He slammed into Virgil, who apparently had very good balanced because they didn’t immediately fall backwards, but then he seemed to remember that he was supposed to let Patton slam him into the pillows, and so he fell back on his own power.

Patton giggled when they hit the ground and drew back to look at his face. “I got you!” He leant forward to kiss him on the nose. “Oh wait! I should let you fight back.” He propped himself up on one arm and held out the other hand. “Pinkie promise not to hurt anyone if I let you use the 3rd setting again?”

“Pinkie promise,” he agreed with a grin, linking their pinkies.

“Great!” Without hesitation, Patton did the hand motion to allow the restraints to be in the third setting.

Patton was on his back almost instantly, but he didn’t even have a chance to think about worrying before Virgil pressed a kiss to his nose in a mirror of what Patton had done a moment before. “I got you,” he said proudly.

“So, you do,” Patton agreed with a laugh. He reached up on of his hands to card it through Virgil’s hair. Virgil leaned into the touch and then practically melted on top of him. “Virgil,” Patton laughed. “It isn’t nap time.”

He grumbled something unintelligible into Patton’s neck making Patton giggle more.

“Sweetie, please.”

Thankfully Logan saved him from the unrelenting cuddling by poking Virgil in the side. “I have finished preparing the stations for the makeover and dress up. You need to get up now.”

Virgil made a noise that sounded like a growl, but he did roll off of Patton.

Patton hopped to his feet and helped Virgil up before pulling him over to the piles of clothes. “We pick the outfit first, but you don’t put it on. Then, we do your make-up and hair based on it. Then, we get you dressed and do touch ups. Okay? Pick anything you want.”

Virgil looked over the options, eyes going a bit wide. “It…” he said. “It all looks really fancy and expensive. Are you sure you want me to touch any of it?”

“We wouldn’t be offering anything we didn’t want you to touch,” Logan said gently. “In fact, I insist you touch all of it. Beyond just appearance, making sure the texture of the fabric is agreeable is a large part of this activity.”

Patton picked up one of the pieces of fabric he knew was very soft and offered it to him. He touched it with careful fingers, his eyes lighting up at the feel of it. They had to continue nudging him into feeling the different fabrics, and he hesitated when they asked him to pick his favorite at the end, but eventually he shyly pointed at a dark purple dress.

Patton clapped. “Great! Ooo, I already have some ideas for make-up that will go with that.”

Virgil let Patton pull him over to the chair they’d set up and settled down on it.

29009

Patton hummed. “I think silver and purple make-up mostly?” he said.

Logan nodded and they grabbed a few things from the make-up kit. Logan let Patton do most of the make-up as he tended to be better at the more creative parts, but Logan was the one who gave him the fancy winged eye liner with purple sparkles because he was really good at them.

“You look fantastic!” Patton squealed when they were done. He held up a hand mirror for Virgil who studied himself in it for a long few moments. “Do you like it?”

“It’s really nice,” Virgil confirmed. Patton smiled and hugged him.

“Next hair. We have a lot of accessories. I’ll let you pick from the purple ones.”

He and Logan sorted through the jewelry box full of different hair accessories for the royal family and ended up finding three purple ones. Patton hesitated a bit over one of them, but Logan picked it up and set it in front of Virgil for him.

“Your choice from these three,” he said.

One was a purple feather with little hooks to braid into hair, one was a smattering of purple and silver stars that would weave through the back of someone’s hair, and the last was a string of silver leaves with purple tips that would wrap up the back of a person’s head from a bun.

Virgil thought for a moment and then pointed to the one made of leaves.

Patton glanced at Logan who took the hairpiece. “I’ll do your hair right for that one,” he said. “I know how it fits.”

He grabbed the brush and carefully ran it through Virgil’s hair. Virgil seemed to like the attention, leaning into the touch, and a smile flickered over Logan’s face. Logan started gathering the hair together to make the low bun that would be the base of hair arrangement. Patton honestly did not expect him to speak, but then he did as he started to secure the piece with pins.

“This was my Pa’s favorite hairpiece,” Logan said. “Not the father you came here for, but my other one. He died when I was six.”

Virgil went shock still. “I don’t have to...”

“I wouldn’t have let it be offered if I wasn’t okay with you using it,” Logan said.

Virgil didn’t move as he finished securing the hairpiece. “There,” Logan said when he was done. He picked up the hand mirror and positioned it so Virgil could see. “It suits you.”

“I…” Virgil said. His eyes were wide, and he clearly didn’t know what to say.

“Now,” Logan said. “I believe there are some other pieces of jewelry that would match this very well in the other room. I…” he turned away. “If you will excuse me.”

He turned away and exited through his bedroom door into the hallway. Patton watched him go and then turned to Virgil. “I’m going to go make sure he’s okay, okay?” Patton asked. “You didn’t do anything wrong, there’s just a lot of emotions.”

“I can take it out…” Virgil said.

“No,” Patton said. “I think he likes that you’re wearing it.” Virgil bit his lip. “He never really moved on,” Patton felt inclined to say. “This is… a lot for him, but I think it’s good too.” He leaned forward to kiss the top of his head, being careful not to mess up his artfully done hair. “I’ll be right back.”

He turned to follow Logan out of the room.

Chapter 19

Thomas sighed in relief as the door to the royal wing finally came into sight. He was exhausted from his journey to Lamir for many reasons. Beyond just the physically taxing journey, he’d also had to deal with the emotions of loosing someone he had thought of as a friend while also trying to help her young daughter who had just had the crown thrust upon her.

Now he just wanted to see his own child and curl up into bed. He smiled at Owen and Kalani as he approached. “Is Logan here?” he asked.

Owen nodded. “The prince and his royal advisor are having a slumber party.”

Thomas smiled. “Of course, they are,” he said.

He said goodnight to the two guard as they’d be getting off duty soon even if he did manage to drag himself out of his room again tonight and walked past them into the hall.

He walked past the room where they kept the jewels, though was unsurprised to see that the room was unlatched as Patton loved playing around with the different jewelry and had probably left it open when he grabbed them. He was however surprised when his son’s room’s door was thrown open, as Logan usually couldn’t stand for the thing to be open with or without him in it.

Thomas didn’t think much of it however, and simply walked over to look inside. He was surprised when he didn’t see his son or Patton and instead saw that the only person in the room was a young boy that Thomas did not recognize. He was seated in one of Logan’s chairs and had his head tilted looking at himself in the mirror. He seemed to be trying to get a look at the ornament on the back of his head, and Thomas felt his heart seize a little bit when he recognized the hairpin.

He hadn’t recovered from that gut punch when the boy’s eyes drifted and met his in the mirror. There were a couple of long seconds where the two of them stared at each other in silence.

“Hello?” Thomas finally managed to get out.

Panic. There was suddenly horribly intense panic in the child’s eyes, the likes of which Thomas had never seen before. Thomas could only blink dumbly as he hopped to his feet like his seat was suddenly made of hot coals and then threw himself across the room to the opposite side from Thomas.

He looked around himself, back to the wall and considered Thomas with wildly spooked eyes. Clearly, he realized that he was pinned in Logan’s room by Thomas being in the door.

The boy dropped suddenly and disappeared under Logan’s bed.

“Uh,” Thomas said, confused and shocked and still a bit in pain from seeing that piece of jewelry in use. He crossed slowly over to the bed and bent down to look under it, moving the bed skirt slightly to the side. He saw a small shaking blob curled up into itself under the bed. “Um, hi,” he said softly.

The blob did not respond except to continue shaking.

Thomas frowned and settled himself onto the floor. “It’s okay,” he said softly. Had he been here stealing things? Thomas had to wonder as he wasn’t sure why someone here for legitimate reasons would be acting so terrified of being caught. Though, that posed the question of how he’d gotten past the guards, and why Logan hadn’t noticed him. “I’m not mad,” Thomas said. “You’re fine.”

The boy looked up briefly from his knees looking terrified. Thomas tried to smile at him gently, but that just made him hunch into himself more, his breathes coming faster. That wasn’t good.

“No, shh,” Thomas said softly. “It’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” He did not seem to believe him, and Thomas winced. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just leave him here but trying to talk him down himself didn’t seem to be working.

Luckily, a familiar voice spoke from behind him then. “Dad?” Logan asked.

Thomas looked back at him. Both Logan and Patton were standing at the door, a couple of pieces of jewelry in their hands. They seemed very surprised to see him.

“You… seem to have a guest,” Thomas informed them.

“I…” Logan said, beginning to edge into the room like he was expecting something to blow up at any moment. “Yes.” He got to Thomas and squeezed himself between him and the bed, putting a physical barrier between Thomas and the boy. Confused, Thomas took a couple of steps away without challenge. “That,” Logan glanced behind him. Patton had moved to the opposite side of the bed from Logan and Thomas and had gotten to his knees to look under it. “That is Virgil.”

Thomas blinked at him. “Virgil?” he asked.

“He’s… new to the castle,” Logan explained. Patton started speaking softly the boy, but Thomas could not make anything he said out. “Patton and I… invited him to a sleepover.”

“The guards didn’t mention anything,” Thomas said, sure that they would have warned him if there was a stranger in the royal wing.

“Uh, well, Virgil is… shy and we didn’t think you’d be back for another week. So, we snuck him past them.”

“Shy?” Thomas asked doubtfully. That was a lot more than shy.

“Particularly of adults,” Logan said.

Thomas took a moment to let that sink in. “Oh.” He was… scared of adults. Thomas could imagine many reasons why that might be the case and none of them set well. “I see.”

“Hey, no, sweetie, stop that,” Patton said, sounding distressed. Patton had managed to draw Virgil out from underneath the bed, though they were both still mostly hidden behind it and Thomas had no question in his mind that if he went to step towards them, Virgil would be back underneath it in a moment. Currently the boy seemed to be clawing at his own head. “No, baby shh,” Patton said, trying to stop him from tearing the pinned in hairpiece out, Thomas realized. “I’ll get it out,” Patton promised him. “Just calm down and let me do it.” He sounded close to tears, and Thomas couldn’t particularly blame him with the way the boy was acting. “You’re hurting yourself, baby.”

He must know, Thomas realized. If Logan had known he was here, then he must have allowed him to use that hairpiece. He’d probably even told Virgil that it belonged to his dead father. Now he was probably terrified that Thomas would be mad at him for touching it, especially when he’d come in to find Virgil alone without Logan to explain.

Patton managed to get all the pins undone and placed the piece delicately on the bed before wrapping himself protectively around the boy and hushing him.

Logan was looking back at them as well. He looked between the puddle of upset on the floor and Thomas. “Could…” he said. “Could I maybe come and see you in a few minutes, Dad?”

“Of course,” Thomas said. “Of course, I’ll go wait in my room. Take as much time as you need.”

He was careful to move slowly as he stepped towards the door, so the poor thing didn’t notice him move and mistake it for him approaching. He closed Logan’s bedroom door softly behind him feeling even more drained than he’d been before as well as anxious and a bit sickened. He went to his own bedroom to wait for Logan.

Chapter 20

Logan let out a slow breath as his father closed the door behind him. That could have been very, very bad. He turned his attention to Virgil and Patton. Patton had curled himself around Virgil as much as physically possible and had tucked the boy’s head under his chin.

Logan slowly rounded the bed and knelt in front of them. “It’s alright,” Logan said, cautiously moving to put a hand on his shoulder. Virgil didn’t pull away. “I asked him to leave. It’s alright.”

Virgil tilted his head slightly too look at him. Logan rubbed a circle into his back as he slowly got control of his breath.

Logan smiled softly at him and reached out to touch his cheek with a gentle hand. “You… didn’t hurt him. You didn’t even try to hurt him.”

Virgil shook his head.

“Why not?” Logan asked curiously. “It was a perfect opportunity.”

“Promised Patton,” Virgil mumbled, and the idea that perhaps the thing that had saved his father’s life was a pinky promise just about gave Logan a migraine, but then Virgil ducked his head. “And it would make you sad.”

“I see,” Logan said, heart in his throat.

Virgil kept looking towards the floor, his eyes starting to fill with tears again. “Are you going to turn me in now?”

He was shaking and barely holding back a fresh wave of tears. Logan knew of course that no one would hurt him here if he turned him in to his father and the guards, but he also knew that Virgil would be terrified if he did so. He was already terrified. Logan didn’t want to know what he thought the fate Logan would be condemning him to.

“No,” Logan said before he could even truly think it through. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re not?” Virgil asked.

“Well, there wouldn’t really be a point, would there?” Logan asked. “The reason we planned to turn you when father got back in is because you posed a danger to him, but you have just demonstrated that is no longer an issue.”

“Really?” Virgil asked, sniffling a bit and Logan saw Patton’s arms tighten even more around him.

“We will have to figure out a better cover for you than just that you’re new to the castle, but I believe it will work fine. No one besides the two of us would ever guess your origin anyway.”

“S-so I can stay?” Virgil asked, “and you won’t throw me into prison or execute me?”

“I promise you were never going to be executed Virgil,” Logan said. “Even if we turned you in, but yes you can stay with us. We’ll figure out a backstory for you that doesn’t involve assassinations and you’ll have to keep up the lie, but I doubt anyone will question it.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Virgil said, chocked up. “Thank you. I really didn’t want to go.”

“Well, you’re our friend now so there will be no going anywhere,” Patton said kissing him on the cheek. Virgil relaxed back into his hold, pleased with the affection.

Logan smiled at them both. “Can I see your wrists, Virgil?”

Virgil blinked but offered them and Logan tapped the restraints doing a quick incantation. They popped off after a moment.

“You’re letting me go?” Virgil asked, eyes wide.

“Of course,” Logan said. “We’re not just going to keep you prisoner for no reason.”

“That’s…” Virgil said, eyes watering as he clearly was trying not to cry. “You’re the best people I’ve ever met.”

“I wish that was not so clearly the case,” Logan replied. He slowly reach up and set a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to go speak with my father. Patton will stay with you.”

“Okay,” Virgil agreed, seeming a bit hesitant.

Logan smiled softly and leaned forward to gently touch their foreheads together. “I will be right back,” he assured. “We will finish our slumber party, though perhaps we will table the rest of the dress up activity for another night.”

He stood then, leaving Virgil in Patton’s capable hands to exit his own bedroom and cross the hallway to his father’s. He took a brief moment to compose himself before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” his father called.

Logan opened the door to see his father sitting on one of the armchairs in his room. Despite the almost disaster that had taken place a few minutes ago, Logan found himself smiling at the man. It was nice to have him home.

“Sorry about that,” Father said.

“It was more my fault than yours. If I knew there was a risk of you coming home today, I wouldn’t have left him alone.”

“Is he alright?”

“I believe so,” Logan answered. “Patton is with him and will certainly smooth out any lingering distress.”

“Good,” his dad said. “That’s good.” There was a pause and then he gestured at the seat beside his.

Logan settled himself down on it. “How was your trip?” he asked. “You’re back a week early.”

“Yes,” Father said. “The trip went better and worse than anticipated.

“How so?” asked Logan curiously.

“Well,” Dad said. “The purpose of the trip was to convince the new queen of Lamir, Cecil not to ally with Mocnejsi, but by the time I’d arrived there wasn’t really a risk of that.”

“Why not?”

“After investigation, it turned out that Cecil’s mother had been poisoned by an assassin from Mocnejsi.”

“Oh,” Logan said, mind already racing.

“They figured out that one of the young women who had been hired on in the kitchen for the winter had done it, and had learned her origin when they questioned her,” Dad informed him. “Considering Cecil was immediately approached for an alliance with Mocnejsi, their aim was likely to manipulate her going forward because of how young she is. Luckily, Cecil is a smart girl and has the help of her mother’s advisor as well as her own. By the time I got there, my only real role was to extend my condolences and reaffirm out alliance. I would have stayed longer, but the possibility that Mocnejsi may think to attack us in a similar way hastened me home.”

“That…” Logan said. “That is wise. I assume you are going to institute more security.”

“I am, yes,” Dad replied. “I would like your input on plans in the coming day.”

“Of course,” Logan agreed.

Dad smiled at him, “But for now,” he said, “I think it’s time you get back to your slumber party and I get to finally go to sleep.”

Logan nodded and got to his feet. He leaned over to hug his father perhaps a bit longer and harder than was strictly necessary, but Dad did not seem to mind at all. “Goodnight,” Logan said.

“Goodnight, son.”

Chapter 21

Virgil woke with something soft but kind of stringy in his face. That was weird. He didn’t know what in the closet would feel like that. In fact, as he woke more he noticed more things that he couldn’t sus out the origin of, particularly the warmth curled up against his side. Curious, he blinked open his eyes. Oh, right. Patton.

The soft stuff in his face was Patton’s hair and the warmth next to Virgil was the rest of the boy’s body. Patton had all but refused to let Virgil go last night after Logan had taken off the restraints and Virgil hadn’t minded the attention. They must have fallen asleep together in the piles of pillows and blankets on the floor.

Virgil brushed his hair gently away, internally (for fear of disturbing him) shaking his head at him. He’d fallen asleep hallway on top of an assassin. He had no self-preservation instincts. He looked at his wrists. It seemed no one had any self-preservation instincts. This of course, included himself as instead of running off when free in case they decided to turn him in after all, he had fallen asleep on the floor with Patton too.

He looked to the side and saw Logan was already awake, reading on one of his chairs. He seemed to sense Virgil’s eyes on him because he looked up after a moment.

“You can get up if you like,” Logan said. “He is a heavy sleeper and won’t wake up if you squirm out of his grip.”

Virgil frowned, unsure if he wanted to risk it.

“I have breakfast ready for you.”

Okay, Virgil was going to risk it.

He carefully squirmed out of Patton’s grip, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead in apology for leaving him before getting to his feet.

Logan handed him a plate of eggs and toast when he walked over and gestured to the chair next to him. Virgil sat there to eat while Logan continued to read.

Virgil ate his food quickly, and then glanced over at Logan once he was done. Virgil was honestly at a bit of a loss. Usually, they came and got him out of the closet only once they were ready to do something, but Patton was still sound asleep on the floor and Logan looked engrossed in his book.

Virgil fidgeted slightly, unsure what he should be doing or even if he should be doing anything. Considering Logan hadn’t given him any instructions, he should probably not do anything. He didn’t want to screw up the first day of… whatever this was now.

Logan glanced over at him after a few minutes. “Don’t forget about the potion,” he reminded.

Virgil nodded and stood, walking over to the closet since it would still be in there from the previous morning. It was about half gone now and it had gotten to the point where Virgil didn’t feel any immediate affects from it anymore other than some warmth. It basically just felt like drinking tea.

He said as much to Logan when he walked back over to him.

“That’s good,” Logan said, “it means it has been working. It has healed any damage it can from malnutrition. Any internal organs that were damaged should be mostly healed. You may even notice your eyesight getting slightly better. Your immune system should also be boosted. You will likely also find it is easier to gain muscle and while you likely will never be as tall as you could have been, you will likely still grow a few inches during your next growth spirt.”

Virgil studied his hands where they were sitting on his thigh now as though he could see the changes that allegedly had already taken place in his body. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Of course,” Logan replied, eyes already back on his book like it was some normal thing and not a huge kindness he’d bestowed on Virgil before even really knowing him. As though Virgil didn’t just owe him more than just his life going forward.

They sat in silence then for a few more minutes, before the was a soft sigh from the floor and Patton started to wake. He sat up and looked around. His eyes landed on both Virgil and Logan sitting together and he seemed to light up.

“Good morning!” he chirped.

“Good morning, Patton,” Logan said as Patton popped to his feet, “I have breakfast for you.”

“Thank you Lo,” Patton said, throwing his arms around Logan’s neck, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Virgil presumed from the lack of surprise on Logan’s face that this was normal for morning Patton, not that the fact surprised him considering how night Patton acted.

He still managed to be somewhat surprised by the fact that Patton turned to hug Virgil a second later. Patton’s lips were pressed briefly to Virgil’s head and then he turned to grab the plate Logan had saved for him.

“So, what are we doing today?” Patton asked.

“I was thinking Virgil and I could continue our reading lessons if he is not opposed,” Logan said. Virgil nodded, happy with that prospect. “Other than that, I have no plans. I have already spoken with my father before the two of you woke. He is going to spend most of his day catching up on things he missed and said I could take the rest of the day off royal duties.”

“A whole day to relax then!” Patton said, happily chewing on his toast. “Reading sounds fun, but we should do something more active too.”

Logan hummed. “We can show Virgil the courtyard after the reading lessons,” he said.

It took a moment for it to register, but then Virgil froze. “Wait,” he said. “We’re going outside?”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes.”

“So, we’re leaving your room?”

“Are you alright with that?” Logan asked cautiously.

Virgil nodded quickly.

“Oh,” Patton said at his enthusiasm. “I guess you have been cooped up a while, haven’t you?” He smiled sadly and turned to Logan. “Maybe we can do reading lessons in the garden.”

“That would be satisfactory.”

“Great!” Patton said. He looked over at Virgil. “If we’re going out, we should probably put your hair up and get you in some clean clothes.”

Logan nodded. “You finish eating, and I will help Virgil find something to wear.”

Logan found him an outfit, though it was a bit baggy on Virgil and the hem of the shirt went halfway to his knees. When Patton finished breakfast, he sat Virgil down and carefully worked a brush through his hair.

“Can I braid it?” Patton asked.

Virgil hummed his consent. Having his hair brushed and done up by another person was a lot more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. He’d liked it when Logan did it the night before, though he had to very firmly push away thoughts of where that led.

“Okay!” Patton said after a few moments. “You look good. Ready to go?”

Virgil nodded and they both led him out into the hall. He paused before they got to the door. “What about the guards?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’ve already given them the same story as I did Dad,” Logan replied. “They know you’re here.”

Virgil still hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Patton promised. “Here, hold my hand?”

Virgil took the offered hand immediately, and Logan stepped in front of them both. Virgil felt himself relax a bit knowing the prince was between him and the guards.

They led him to the door.

Logan greeted both of the guards at the door, and they said good morning back. Both of them glanced at Virgil curiously for a moment making him shrink into himself, but they quickly averted their gazes.

Patton pulled him past them without incident and soon they were in the small dining hall Virgil had passed through his first night here. He remembered how he’d snuck around at the edges of the room in the shadows with the aim to kill the king, but now he was being pulled through the middle with the prince having just wandered past the royal guards in broad daylight like it was nothing.

It was so strange, and Virgil still couldn’t totally believe this was happening. The retraced his exact steps back down the spiral stairs near the kitchen and out of the door he and the nice gardener had came through. He could even see the shed he’d been hiding in from here. With a blink, he remembered they were going to the garden, and he wondered if he’d see the man again.

For now, he just looked around them as Logan and Patton led him past the garden shed towards an area with many trees. Orange and yellow leaves were starting to fall from many of the trees.

They made a satisfying crunching sound under his feet as he was led to a tree. He had seen the group of trees when he’d first arrived here and had even thought about hiding amongst them instead of in the shed, but they’d seemed scary in the dark. They were pretty in the daylight, however, and Virgil found himself tilting his head to watch the branches sway in the slight wind.

Logan sat down under it and pulled out a book and some writing materials from the bag he’d brought. Virgil settled down next to him so they could both look at the book at the same time and Patton flopped down on the other side, immediately setting to work tying fancy knots in the yarn he’d brought with him. Patton shuffled slightly to the side so they bumped shoulders as Logan opened the book and started Virgil’s reading lesson.

Chapter 22

Patton bit his lip to keep from laughing or awing. “Do you like the flower, Virgil?” he asked.

Virgil glanced up at him briefly and then his eyes returned to the flower he’d found. “It’s nice,” he said.

They’d finished the reading lessons and let Virgil explore the garden a bit. He’d found a dark purple and yellow flower (a pansy, Patton thought) and seemed to be endlessly fascinated by it. He’d been staring at it for minutes now, almost as though he expected it to do something. Patton did not quite understand his interest, but he was still adorable.

Logan sat next to him and the flower, smiling at him softly. “I imagine you’ll enjoy the garden in the spring,” Logan said. “There are many more flowers then. Of all types. We’ll have to show you all of the best spots. Mr. Deknis has a particularly good eye for colors, and it is always quite beautiful.”

“Who is Mr. Deknis?” Virgil asked.

“He’s the head gardener,” Logan said. “He’s a nice man, though a bit prickly when it comes to his garden. We may see him today if he’s in this part of the garden.”

“Would he have been the multrum I saw in the gardening shed when I hid there?”

“Ah, yes, that would be him. I was unaware you interacted with anyone in the castle.”

“He caught me in his garden shed, but he wasn’t mean,” Virgil said, he tilted his head curiously at Logan. “Why…” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Logan asked.

“Why is he the gardener?”

Logan looked confused, “Well,” he said, “I guess because he wants to and is good at it.”

“No,” Virgil said with a frown. “I mean. Shouldn’t he… he’s…”

Logan seemed to think hard for a moment. “Right,” he said. “You’ve been under a blood compulsion. I’d guess you would have only worked with multrums in the military.”

“I guess I didn’t realize that they could be other things…”

“Of course, they can,” Logan said. “Their abilities don’t make them any less of people. Mr. Deknis likes to garden so he gardens.”

Virgil blinked at him.

“…Of course, all things considered, that may not be a familiar concept to you.” Virgil turned back to look at the flower instead of answering. “Right,” said Logan.

There were a couple of awkward beats of silence. Patton bit his lip and happened to glance up. “Oh,” he said. “Speaking of Mr. Deknis.” He gestured to the gardener who was coming up the path between the trees.

Logan sat up on his knees as Patton waved at him. He saw Patton and turned to walk towards them. “The two of you had better not be up to mischief in my garden,” Mr. Deknis called, his voice a bit gruff. He clearly did not see Virgil who had laid flat on his stomach to stare at the flower.

Logan rolled his eyes automatically. “We were just reading Mr. Deknis,” he said. “Your piles of dirt are safe.”

“No mud cakes?” Mr. Deknis asked skeptically still coming towards them.

“It has been a literal decade…”

Patton saw when Mr. Deknis was close enough to see Virgil.

He stopped in his track and looked down at Virgil who was already watching him a bit warily. “Hello,” he said, his voice a lot softer than it’d been a few moments before. His expression completely flipped in a moment to something very gentle when he saw Virgil and the cautious look on his face. Virgil did seem to have that effect on people.

“Hi,” Virgil replied.

Mr. Deknis looked at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Virgil. “This is our new friend, Virgil,” Patton offered.

“Hello, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a nod.

“Virgil, this is the gardener Mr. Deknis.”

“He’s not nearly as grumpy as he sounds,” Patton assured.

“Well,” Logan said, “yes he is.”

Mr. Deknis shot him a look that only served to prove Logan’s point if Patton was being honest. Logan just smiled back. Mr. Deknis apparently decided to let it slide because he turned back to Virgil.

“It’s good to see you again,” Mr. Deknis said. “Are you feeling better?”

Virgil nodded. “I’m a lot better,” he said. Mr. Deknis considered him for a moment, clearly reading how true that statement was. Patton was glad he seemed satisfied with the answer.

“I see you’ve met these two.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly. “Be careful with this one,” he said, pointing to Logan. “He’s a bad influence.”

Virgil frowned in confusion. “He’s the prince,” he pointed out.

“And a bad influence,” Mr. Deknis repeated. “He’s a beacon of irresponsibility and mischief and he corrupts that one,” he nodded to Patton.

“I am completely responsible,” Logan replied.

“Need I remind you of the cucumber incident.”

“I was 8,” Logan said.

“I know how old you were,” Mr. Deknis replied, “and you are hardly any older.”

“I resent that.”

Mr. Deknis just smiled and turned back to Virgil who was watching the interaction with pure curiosity.

“I just picked a few more of those apples for Patton’s mom to make into apple sauce. Would you kids like some?”

Virgil glanced over at Logan and Patton.

“That would be nice, thank you,” Patton replied for them all, standing up. Seeing that, Virgil also climbed to his feet.

“It’s back this way,” Mr. Deknis said, inclining hid head back the way he’d came and then turning to lead them that way. Patton followed him. He glanced back to see Logan put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder and give him a gentle push to get him going. “So, what are you kids up to today?”

“We wanted to show Virgil the garden and courtyard,” Patton said. “He’s been cooped up inside for a bit.”

“I see,” Mr. Deknis said. He glanced back at Virgil. “Feel free to come out in the garden anytime you like. As long as you don’t go about purposefully destroying stuff, I don’t mind you being out here.”

“I won’t destroy anything,” Virgil promised instantly.

“Well I hope you manage to keep that attitude even while befriending the large upright groundhog behind you.”

Virgil looked a little bit nervous. “He’s just teasing Virgil,” Patton assured. “He loves Logan.”

Mr. Deknis glanced back again and seemed to read the same thing Patton had read on Virgil’s face.

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Deknis said. “I have simply known the prince for a long time and joke with him in that way often. Logan is aware of that.”

“Indeed,” Logan agreed, his hand squeezing a bit on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil relaxed a touch.

Mr. Deknis stopped and reached down into a bucket next to a tree. “I wouldn’t offer my apples to people I don’t like,” he said, tossing an apple underhand to Logan. Instead of trying to catch it, his eyes widened and he dodged out of the way.

“You would however throw apples at them despite knowing they have never been able to catch things.”

Mr. Deknis just rolled his eyes fondly, but Virgil frowned and turned to Logan. “You don’t know how to catch things?” he asked scandalized. “You should know how to catch things. What if someone throws a knife at you?”

Mr. Deknis looked… probably the right amount of concerned about that statement coming from a 14-year-old’s lips.

“Haha, yeah,” Patton said awkwardly. “Maybe you can teach Logan how to catch things Virgil, but later. Right now, why don’t we just get the apples and then show you the courtyard.”

Virgil was still frowning, but he did not argue with Patton’s suggestion.

Thankfully, Mr. Deknis did not push, though Patton did have to dodge many a meaningful side eye. He might… need to make sure he did not get cornered by the gardener in the coming days… or brush up on his lying without lying skills.

For now, though, he just handed out the apples, not tossing them this time. Virgil thanked him softly and Patton could see the way the usually fairly gruff man went all melty at that. He even slipped an extra apple to Virgil for later which Virgil perked up at.

Patton and Logan pulled him away gently after that so Mr. Deknis could go back to work, but Virgil seemed happy with the apples and copied Patton at waving goodbye to him cheerfully.

Despite the fact that he liked Mr. Deknis and he’d been nice, Patton still took a calming breath when they were no longer at risk of lying about something and getting caught by the man’s powers. They went back into the castle towards the courtyard.

Chapter 23

Logan was unsurprised that after showing Virgil the large courtyard, Patton almost immediately decided to instigate a game of tag. They were, after all, here with the goal of getting Virgil a bit active after having had him only in Logan’s room for weeks.

He was also unsurprised that Virgil seemed confused about the concept of tag, and Patton had to explain the game in detail to him.

It made him wince, but he still was unsurprised when Virgil went about inquiring after the consequences of losing the game.

He was, however, very surprised when, after getting all of the facts about tag settle, Patton was chasing after Virgil trying to tag him and suddenly the boy disappeared.

Patton almost ran into a wall in his confusion. He stared at his hands stretched out and just a couple of inches from touching the wall for a moment, before slowly looking up.

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed. “What?”

“What?” he asked.

“…What are you even hanging onto?”

“The wall,” Virgil replied.

Logan walked closer to the two of them and tilted his head up to look at him. Virgil had jumped up and somehow managed to find hand and foot holes on the seemingly smooth wall. He climbed about 5 meters above their heads and was peering down at them curiously.

“Okay,” Logan said. “New rule. Virgil is not allowed to scale walls during tag.”

Virgil frowned down at him. “Why only me?”

“Because Patton and I cannot do that anyway,” Logan said. “We would not be able to actually play if you remain up there.”

Patton glanced over at him and reached over to touch Logan’s shoulder. “No tag backs,” he said. Logan glared at him. “Why don’t you come down sweetie?”

“But Logan will tag me,” he said.

“Well, honey, that’s part of the fun,” Patton reasoned. “Don’t you want to try being it?”

Virgil seemed to consider this for a long moment. “Okay,” he agreed.

To Logan’s terror, he simply let go of the wall, falling straight down and landing crouched. He blinked at Logan. Right. With a start, Patton took off, so he’d have a head start. “No tag backs means a 10 second head start for me,” Logan reminded. Virgil nodded, and Logan reached out to poke him in the arm before immediately running off in the opposite direction as Patton.

Logan’s strategy worked out since, knowing he couldn’t go after Logan for a few seconds more, he chose to turn and go after Patton. After finding one of the statues to hide behind on the edge of the courtyard, Logan risked glancing back.

Virgil was faster than Logan (and likely Patton) had accounted for. Patton had gotten a good head start on him, but Virgil closed it quickly. Patton shrieked as Virgil barreled into him, bringing them both to the ground.

“Virgil!” Logan heard Patton giggle. Logan figured he was more than okay despite the tackle. “This isn’t how you play tag!”

“I combined tag and tackle hugs,” Virgil declared, making Patton giggle more.

“That’s very innovative, honey,” Patton said. “Now are you going to let me up?...Virgil… I’m counting down your 10 second head start in my head, and if you don’t let me up I’m going to tag you again.”

This did not seem to have the intended effect as Virgil did not remove himself from Patton’s person. Patton laugh when it became clear he was not going to move and began counting down “7, 6, 5, 4, you’d better let me go sweetie, or you’re going to get tagged again.” Virgil did not seem to care. “3, 2, 1.” Patton reached up and bopped him on the nose. “Tag!” he declared.

Logan was surprised when Virgil instantly jumped off Patton at that. He whipped around.

‘Oh,’ Logan thought as the boy’s eyes narrowed in on Logan immediately, ‘I see.’

“Virgil was already halfway across the courtyard towards him before Logan could even think about running away. There was no way that he was fast enough to outrun him. Perhaps he could outthink him, he thought. His eyes scanned his environment in the seconds he had left and landed on a large square piece of stone that held flowers in the spring. It was just full of dirt now, but it was still about waist high. Perhaps if he kept that between them, he could outmaneuver him. He sprinted towards it and scrambled to the opposite side from where Virgil was heading.

He really should not have been as surprised as he was that Virgil did not even slightly slow as he approached the planter box, instead grabbing ahold of the side of it and vaulting over it. Logan stumbled back, bracing for impact, but instead he just got a quick tap on the shoulder.

Logan blinked at him.

“I don’t know if you would be okay with tackle hugs,” he explained.

Logan considered him. “I would be okay with a nontackle hug.”

Virgil happily jumped forward to hug Logan, pressing his nose into Logan’s shoulder. Logan chuckled and patted the top of his head. “Six,” he said, “5, 4, 3…”

Virgil bolted away suddenly, actually making Logan stumble a bit. He paused just out of reach of Logan, looking at him with anticipation. “2,1,” Logan finished with a raised eyebrow. He already knew he was being played with, but he indulged him by starting towards him. Virgil danced out of the way, eyes alight. Logan sighed. “Is this truly how it’s going to be?” he asked.

Virgil didn’t answer, but to watch him with wide, excited eyes.

“Fine,” Logan said. He dashed towards him again, only to have him continue to maneuver just out of Logan’s reach each time Logan went forward. He’d call it taunting if there was any sign of malice in it.

They ran around the courtyard in spirts of Logan charging at him and Virgil expertly dodging. Eventually Patton came closer to them. Logan could tell that Virgil was aware of his presence, by how he glanced back at him briefly, but considering he was not ‘it,’ it seemed he chose to disregard him. However, he was not aware of the way Patton winked at Logan as he walked up behind Virgil.

Logan, on the other hand, knew exactly what was happening. He went to spring for Virgil again, and Virgil again moved to dodge, but this time Patton grabbed him around the waist, allowing Logan to actually tag him.

He turned slowly to face Patton who started to giggle immediately at the perplexed look on his face. It cleared into something else as soon as he heard Patton laugh. “Traitor!” he claimed. “We were on the same team and you betrayed me.”

“I just thought we should probably have mercy on poor Logan,” Patton replied.

“Hmm,” Virgil said, eyes again full of that playful mischief Logan had not seen until today. “Plea for mercy not accepted.”

Patton once again half-shrieked half-laughed as he was pounced on. The two of them went rolling across the grass, Virgil clearly keeping the rolling going longer than it should have as they made it a good few meters.

36284

Virgil sprung off of him a few moments later.

“Oh, is it my turn?” Patton inquired with a huge smile. He slowly got to his feet. “Hmm, I’m probably at about 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” He took off after Virgil, but Patton had a bit more endurance than Logan, so instead of doing quickly calculated lunges at Virgil as Logan had done, he just ran at him full tilt without stopping.

Virgil ran from him, though Logan was pretty sure he was intentionally slowing himself down a bit so Patton had some amount of a chance. He kept turning to check behind him and make sure Patton was still somewhat close as he ran.

Which is why he didn’t see the imminent disaster in time.

Chapter 24

Thomas should have been paying more attention, but his mind had been on the meeting he’d just had with the castle guards about increased security in the wake of the possible threat from Mocnejsi. He’d decided to take a brief walk around the courtyard to clear his head but was still distracted with mulling over the options that had just been presented to him. He stepped into the castle courtyard and did not have time to step out of the way of the much smaller body rocketing towards him. Virgil slammed into his front, but not before Thomas got a good look at his face.

Virgil’s expression changed dramatically in the few seconds between him registering Thomas was there and running into him. For the briefest moment, Thomas could see that he must have been having a lot of fun. He’d caught the wide smile and sparkling eyes as Virgil turned his head back from looking at Patton who was chasing him across the greenery. He’d looked very happy which made it all the more painful to see that happiness die in and a few instants. When his head had turned back towards Thomas, there was a flicker of confusion at something being in his path.

Then, clearly everything about the situation registered, because his eyes blew wide in horror as he tried to stop himself, but there was no way he’d be able to in time. Thomas saw that fact register on his face the moment before he hit. Gone was any trace of happiness or joy in that split second. All that was left was dread that had no place anywhere near a children’s game of tag. It was the expression Thomas would expect from someone who felt ice give way under their feet in the middle of a lake they had thought was frozen solid.

He hit hard, but he wasn’t nearly big enough to actually harm Thomas. Thomas was thrown slightly off balance but managed to stay on his feet. He reached out a hand to his shoulder automatically to steady the child. There was a moment of pseudo calm where they both absorbed the impact and stilled.

Then, the boy’s shoulder slipped out of Thomas’s grip as he went crashing to the ground in a move that made Thomas wince for the state of his knees. Thomas couldn’t quite grasp what was happening for a moment as Virgil face planted onto the ground in front of him, but when he did, Thomas couldn’t help but flinch and take a step back from him.

Thomas had been bowed to before, of course, seeing as he was a king, but this was not out of respect or courtesy or even just tradition. This was out of terror. He was begging for mercy and it made Thomas feel sick.

“I’m sorry,” he said, meek and shaky into the ground, and there was almost something worse about the fact that he did not beg for forgiveness with his words, but only his posture. The way his breathes came far too quick and shallow said he was likely on the verge of a panic attack, but he was not blubbering through apologies or even not speaking at all. He gave a clear, if shaky, apology, and waited for whatever he thought Thomas planned to do to him. There was no way that was not learned.

“You don’t…” Thomas stuttered. “You don’t have to do that. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he reacted in no other way. He did not even react when Patton made it to his side and knelt down next to him. Patton’s hand hovered over his back, clearly wanting to touch down, but he pulled back on that instinct.

“Virgil, honey,” he said softly. “It’s okay. No one is mad. It was an accident.”

Virgil did not react to this at all.

Thomas caught Logan’s eye as he hurried over to them himself. “Sorry,” Thomas mouthed. Logan just nodded and turned his attention to his friend.

“There is no reason for any of that,” Logan said, his voice firm, almost clipped. “You are not in trouble. Now sit up.”

Virgil did respond to that, slowly shifting back on his knees. He kept his head down looking at the ground. “Sorry,” he said again.

“I…” Thomas said, surveying the three kids on the ground in front of him. Thomas slowly sunk to the ground to be at their level. Virgil was tracking his movements out of the corner of his eyes, his head still bowed and his shoulders tensed. “Hey,” Thomas said softly. “Were you three playing tag?”

Virgil hesitated, eyes flickering as he debated whether he should respond or not.

“Yeah, we were,” Patton answered for him after a moment of stressful silence.

“Well that’s fun,” Thomas said. “I’m sorry for interrupting the three of you. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Virgil glanced up at him for just a moment before looking away again. Patton apparently felt it was safe enough to touch Virgil, because he settled a hand on the boys shoulder.

“Yeah, we’ve just been having a fun day,” Patton said, carefully matching Thomas’s light tone. “We went to the garden and did some reading. Then, Mr. Deknis gave us some apples.”

“That’s nice,” Thomas replied. “He’s been talking about the new apples he’s been growing. He’s been working on them for years and they’re just beginning to bare fruit this year. I haven’t gotten a chance to try any yet. Are they any good?”

“They’re very good,” Patton told him. His hand rubbed slowly on Virgil’s back. “Isn’t that right, Virge?”

Virgil nodded a bit, a little less tense now, but still nowhere near calm.

“Well, I’ll have to try them soon,” Thomas said with a smile. “Thank you for the information. Now, I’ve got to get back to what I’m doing, but I hope you three have a good day.”

“I’ll see you later, Dad,” Logan said.

Thomas nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “Goodbye you three,” he said before turning away towards the door back into the castle. He paused to take a breath when the door closed behind him, cutting off the courtyard. There were a lot of thoughts to shirt through in regards to that conversation. He hated that Virgil was so obviously terrified of him. Both of their two interactions had ended with the poor thing panicking on the ground. He wished he had some idea of how to help him or at least someone to talk to about it.

Maybe he’d go visit Mr. Deknis himself and not just for the apples.

#proofread stories #not writing

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lupinsx · 4 years

Text

What You Do to Me

masterlist

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Ever since the beginning of your fifth year, Draco became unpleasant towards you, and you’re determined to find out why.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Kissing, but that’s about it.

a/n — Hello, this is my first writing prompt on here. Feel free to request a one-shot in my inbox and I’ll try to get back to you as soon as possible!

——————————

"And then she had the audacity to run away! Can you believe her?"

A chorus of exaggerated gasps and responses echoed in the Slytherin common room. You gave a light chuckle at the nature of your friends as you took a sip from the bottle of butterbeer laying around before briefly glancing up at the clock.

Blaise, Pansy, Theo, Daphne, Draco, and you laid sprawled across the couches and floor of the common room. It was a usual thing for you guys to hang out there before curfew whenever an escape from studies was collectively needed. Given the intensity of a fifth year's workload, it was nearly every other day when you guys would gather together with some drinks for a couple hours. You weren't complaining, though — this is much rather preferred than working on Snape's essays.

You suddenly put down your bottle and stood up hazily while brushing down your skirt. Five pair of eyes instantaneously turned towards your way as you shot them an apologetic smile. "Sorry, but I promised my brother I'd meet up with him and his friends in the library."

It wasn't uncommon for you to receive disapproving looks whenever your brother and his Gryffindor friends were brought up. You chose to ignore it, as they never verbally expressed their dislike towards them. Until now, when Draco Malfoy decided he suddenly had something to say.

“Those Gryffindors? You could do so much better," he remarked without sparing you a glance. You scoffed at his immaturity and crossed your arms against your chest.

"I don't recall asking for your opinion, Malfoy," You said, clenching your jaw. "Besides, they make better company than you do." He smirked to himself before turning his head slightly to meet your gaze. There was a moment of hesitation before his response, in which he simply scanned your face before staring into your eyes again.

With an infuriating grin plastered on his face, he said, "Please, we know the real reason is that you want to snog Potter. Your attempts are pathetic, anyone can see that."

Your face heated up with rage and embarrassment — How dare he imply that? "Go to hell, Malfoy," you muttered just loud enough to be heard before storming out of the portrait hole.

He was never this rude throughout your time at Hogwarts. You two were the least closest within the group, as you'd normally never speak to him unless it was alongside the others, but he still remained civil with you. It was only the beginning of the school year when this had changed.

He began giving you snide comments about your closeness with the Golden Trio and you being a Weasley. Most people didn't mind that fact, as you were still a Slytherin despite all of your siblings being otherwise, but Draco never failed to insult you about it somehow during any given circumstance.

You attempted to brush your thoughts of him away once you approached the library. However, the question of why he was being like this towards you remained in your head until the end up the night, making you fall asleep with a clouded head and a heavy chest.

~~~

"Settle down, class, unless you intend on receiving a string of detentions," Professor Snape said languidly, silencing the room of Gryffindors and Slytherins. You sat next to Harry, with your brother Ron seated with Hermione behind you two. "Today, we will be brewing a particularly difficult potion in groups of two. Open up your textbook to page 394 as I put you all into pairs."

Harry gave a slight groan next to you upon hearing Professor Snape. You squeezed his hand reassuringly and offered an encouraging grin. You two would often pair up with each other, given how you have a greater talent for Potions than he does. A partner willing to lead most of it is often hard to come across when the pairs are pre-picked, to Harry's dismay.

Professor Snape began listing pairs of his piece of parchment, causing fear to erupt in the stomach's of most. You didn't pay much attention to the names being said as you pulled out your textbook. It was only until the last pairing when you hear your name being mentioned that you finally looked up.

"Y/N Weasley and Draco Malfoy."

You winced at the mention of your partner for the day. Turning your head tentatively, you glanced at Draco. He held an empty expression, void of any emotions indicating how he felt about the pairing. Upon noticing your gaze, he stood up silently to approach your desk.

"Let me know if he is being a dick to you," Harry said softly, squeezing your shoulder before leaving his seat. You notice the glares Draco gave to Harry's departing figure and rolled your eyes, gesturing him to sit down.

"Don't miss your boyfriend too much," Draco said with a scowl on his face. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief. He never quits, does he?

"I'll get the ingredients, you set up the cauldron," You muttered, not wasting any time to get up and briefly depart with him. You quietly groaned in anger once out of his earshot. Out of the twenty-something students in the class, you, unfortunately, had the luck of being with him.

While muttering some less than appropriate words to describe the platinum haired boy, you grabbed the ingredients listed in your textbook. Unicorn hair, you thought to yourself as you try to locate it along the shelves. Upon seeing it in the uppermost compartment, you sighed before placing your materials down and reaching for it.

Come down already! you thought to yourself as you stood on tiptoe with your arms extended. Still, you barely managed to brush your fingers on the bottom of the container. As you contemplated giving up and simply calling someone else to grab it, you felt a presence appear behind you.

Dangerously close behind you.

You could feel their breath tickle the lobe of your ear as they reached for the ingredient with no hassle. Their hand seemed to delicately brush over your outstretched arm on its way down, making shivers appear instantaneously.

You lowered your heel and dropped your arm by your side. Your positions lingered for a brief moment before they took a step back and you turned around. That's when your eyes met a pair of ash-gray ones boring into your own.

For a moment, the room was still, or it at least appeared to be. Nothing else was registered in your brain besides those foggy eyes in front of you. You wanted to take a picture, to capture the beautiful sight, but you knew regardless it would be implanted in your brain for life.

Suddenly, Draco diverted his eyes with a slight cough saying, "You looked like you were struggling." He then strode across the room to return to your desk, looking solely at the work in front of him. As you gathered your materials swiftly and returned to your desk as well, you failed to notice the tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks, similar to your own.

The rest of the class was spent in silence, avoiding his occasional glance and trying to ignore the harsh beating of your heart.

~~~

It was nearly a week after the Potion's incident, and you haven't come across Draco since. To be fair, you were also doing your fair share of avoiding — coming to breakfast and dinner earlier than usual and leaving when the crowd came, as well as hanging out with the Gryffindors more often than the Slytherins. But Draco hasn't been attending the get-togethers in the common room before curfew. It was almost as if he dropped off the face of the Earth.

As you turn the corner in an empty corridor with no clear direction in mind, a tall figure colliding with yours abruptly broke your trance. You fell on your butt and grimaced. Why must this happen to me, you thought in mild pain. Your eyes were too squinted to notice the hand offered in front of you.

Suddenly, the person grabbed your forearm and lifted you up onto your feet. You stumbled for a moment, gripping onto their shoulder for balance, before your eyes fell on the face of the stranger.

Fate was being real funny today.

Draco stood in front of you, making you hyper aware of lack of space between you two. You immediately retracted your hand from his shoulder, but his grip lingered on your arm for a moment before he took it off. Then, he simply scowled at you and rolled his eyes before walking away.

"Watch where you're going next time, Weasley."

You let out a dry chuckle, amazed by his duality. One minute, he'll be extremely close, staring into yours eyes softly. The next, he'll be acting like an absolute git, taking any chance to insult you.

Before he managed to get far, you grabbed the end of his tie and pulled him back so he was at eye level with you. You glared at him for a moment before speaking slowly, "What is your problem with me?"

Draco gulped tentatively, meeting your harsh stare with his striking silver eyes. After a moment of him simply taking in the appearance of your eyes, he opened his mouth to speak. "It's what you're doing to me."

You paused, your grip loosening on his tie as your expression morphed into one of confusion. "What am I doing to you?" you asked in a soft whisper. You didn't know how to react to his statement — you generally steered clear of him unless he spoke to you first. What could you have possibly done to make him hate you?

Draco pulled his tie out of your hands and stood up to his full height. He then took slow strides towards you, making you backup to maintain some space apart. Eventually, your back had hit a wall, and there was no avoiding his strong gaze when there was merely centimeters between you two. He raised his arm to the spot of the wall next to your head, partially trapping you in this position.

"You wanna know what you're doing to me?" He tilted his head very slightly, searching your face for any sign of emotion. "You're running through my head every minute of every day. You're making my heart beat rapidly and my face red at the mere sight of you. You- you're making me feel things I've never felt for someone before."

There was a slight pause in his speech when he simply gazed into your eyes, observing your reaction. Your lips parted slightly in shock, your eyes widened, your cheeks painted with crimson. He took that as an opportunity to continue, in a breathy whisper, "That's what you're doing to me."

Your outer expression displayed merely surprise, but you were jumping in glee on the inside. You have always liked Draco since the second year. You admired his confidence and pride, his sheer ambition, and admittedly, his handsome appearance. Upon hearing the revelation, it's natural that you'd feel quite joyous.

Still, you had to remind yourself of his behaviour during the past two months. Clearing your throat in an attempt to briefly mask your feelings, you said in a sarcastic tone, "That definitely excuses how you've been treating me this year."

Draco's face suddenly turned pale as his eyebrows furrowed in regret. He looked down, ashamed of himself, and dropped the arm trapping you to his side. He mumbled an apology under his breath and stepped back sadly.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you threw your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you once again. "Don't worry, I forgive you," you said, slamming your lips onto his before he could respond. His eyes widened as he stood still for a moment, but he quickly melted into your lips and brought his arms around your waist shortly after.

The kiss started off passionate, filled with the raw, unadulterated desire built up inside them over the years. He gripped your waist as if you would flee when he let go, and he kept bringing you impossibly closer to him. However, it gradually developed into a sweeter, more slower kiss as it went on. You melted into his arms, and neither wanted the moment to end.

After what felt like a century of having your lips connected, you finally pulled away, heaving a euphoric sigh. His breathing was accelerated, and your lips were red and swollen. A grin slowly stretched across his face, and a laugh other than the sarcastic ones you were used to hearing was released. An airy, untroubled one, which sounds absolutely magnificent.

The moment was suddenly disturbed by a loud bang. You and Draco abruptly pulled apart, looking at the surprise visitors. At the end of the hall, Ron, Harry, and Hermione stood shocked, and a textbook laid on the floor in front of Ron's open arms.

"You and Draco are d-dating?" said your brother with a horrified grimace painting his face.

Draco faced you with a slight smile. Grabbing your hand and giving it an affectionate squeeze, he prompted, "Only if you'd like to."

"Of course. What more would I want?"

——————————

a/n — Horrifyingly enough, I almost deleted it. Thankfully I put it in a google doc. Anyways, reminder that requests are open! Thank you for reading :)

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco one shot #draco malfoy one shot #draco fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter one shot #writing #my prompts #draco x reader imagines #draco malfoy imagines

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sdktrs12 · 4 years

Text

( Days 1 - 8 ) ( Days 9 - 16 ) ( Day 17 ) ( Day 18 ) ( Day 19 )

I apologize profusely for being late yet again and this lengthy chapter! Ratings bump - E (smut, smut, smut)

Beth watches from the doorway of her office as Annie takes an extra roll of white streamer and wraps it around Mick’s arm, slapping a piece of tape on it to hold before moving on to the other arm.

He’d shown up to the Halloween party almost half an hour ago, sans costume and Rio, and Annie had pouted for all of five seconds before deciding she would just DIY him a costume instead.

Apparently, he was going to be a mummy.

Beth bets he’ll probably rethink showing up costumeless next year.

Or coming at all.

She’s itching to ask him about Rio, but she’s also refusing to give in to temptation.

He’ll show up when he shows up.

If he comes at all...

Beth smiles as Annie moves on from Mick’s arms to his neck and head and he tries to shake her off.

She bites her tongue on yelling for her not to be wasteful, because they could recycle the Halloween decorations that didn’t get used for other holidays.

But it’s just too much fun watching her little sister struggle to wrap up this surly, stocky, fairly intimidating man.

She’d forced Annie to come in earlier to help her decorate for this party, grumbling the whole way even though she was the one who’d wanted to throw the damn thing, and they’d even roped Ruby in to help as well.

They’d set up orange, black, and white balloons, streamers, banners and backdrops. Beth had added flashing lights, a fog machine, and a rented photo booth opposite the snack and drink table.

And Annie had at least proven more than useful in that department, conjuring up some “potions” into shot glass tubes labeled ‘snake venom’ and ‘vampire blood’ and ‘witch brew’.

Beth hears a loud laugh and looks over to her left, already knowing who it is before she even sees him.

Dean’s standing by one of the hot tubs with Eric, talking to one of the new hires, Jessica.

Jessica’s perched on the side of the hot tub, perky and cute and smiling up at Dean as he animatedly tells some story, flinging his arms out wide, almost hitting someone behind him and then he brings them in close again, pulling a truly goofy face and oh—Beth knows this story.

She knows this facial expression and these wild gestures and she smiles as she anticipates the punchline, two seconds before all three of them start laughing and—

God, it’s...strange, being on the outside looking in at these jokes now.

They’d come to this party separately, haven’t even interacted much since it started, but she still feels his presence, still knows exactly where to look to find him at any given moment and—

There he goes, head turning, eyes searching her out now that he’s finished his story, almost on instinct.

He smiles and nods when he spots her and she returns the gesture and then he’s turning back to the small group and she wonders if that habit will ever fade.

Beth steps away from the office door, moving further into the store, toward the drinks.

She smiles and greets people as she goes, a little self conscious as she adjusts the hem of her dress, pulling at it a little.

Honestly, she should never have let Annie have any say in her costume, but she’d been feeling desperate, this being the first Halloween party she’d been to in years that wasn’t just for the children.

She’d spotted the witch hat while shopping for Annie’s Halloween costume and had immediately thought of Mick and known it was perfect for the party. She’d originally planned to wear it on its own, but then Annie had come swooping in, talking about some black dress she’d just seen that would be perfect for it.

Said black dress turned out to be skin tight.

But it at least covered a fair amount of skin, with a fairly decent length and covered chest, but it had an open and plunging back.

When Mick had shown up, he’d taken one good look at her and turned away, but Beth swears she saw a smile before he did.

Beth grabs a tube labeled ‘poison’, trying to remember what Annie said was in each one.

She thinks this one might be vodka and...lime juice?

Beth glances over in Annie’s direction, hoping to get her attention, and freezes, her heart skipping a beat because...

There he is.

He’s leaning into Mick, trying to tell him something and Beth wonders what, how important and private it must be that he doesn’t want it shouted over the music playing.

Annie’s talking to Ruby and Beth briefly wonders where Stan is before her attention is turning back to Rio.

He’s wearing a deep blood red henley and dark jeans and she rolls her eyes because of course he didn’t dress up—but then he’s moving away from Mick and Beth’s mouth drops open slightly as she sees him fully, because there on his head are two red devil horns.

Beth turns away quickly, biting back her grin as she tries to focus on the tube in her hand and the pale green liquid inside. She brings it up to her lips and quickly drinks it, tossing the empty tube into the recycling bin as she glances back over her shoulder at Rio...

Except he’s gone.

Beth turns fully then, neck craning as she tries to see through the crowd and find him again.

She moves slowly around the outskirts of the party, eyes on the crowd, so when she reaches the photo booth, she almost screams when a hand reaches out and grabs her wrist and yanks her in.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She hisses, shoving at Rio as she straightens herself up from where she’d been practically laid out across his lap.

He ignores her question, eyes raking over her from head to toe and Beth pulls down at her dress where it’s ridden up, suddenly realizing how very small this photo booth is.

“You look good mama. Suits you.” He observes with a smirk, still entirely too close for her brain to function properly.

“Could say the same for you.” She retorts, reaching up and poking at his horns and he grins as he snatches her hand and brings it down to his mouth, biting at one of her knuckles and Beth yelps as she yanks it away from him.

“Or maybe a vampire would’ve been more on brand.” She corrects, rubbing her finger over the mark he’s left and then she sucks in a sharp breath as he leans in close, mouth right next to her ear. “I can be both if that’s what you’re into, sweetheart.”

“You know what I’m into—”

“Lemme guess, people who knock?”

And he has the nerve to laugh, because of course he would think his own jokes are just hilarious.

“Why are you even in here? Do you actually show up in pictures or do you ghost out of those as well?”

And there he goes, laughing again and making her want him so badly she can taste it.

“I don’t know, ma, why don’t we find out.” He says it like it’s a challenge and she furrows her eyebrows, biting at her bottom lip because she’s serious...

“I’m serious, you have to take pictures like a normal person.” She says slowly and Rio rolls his eyes as his jaw clenches.

“I take pictures like a normal person, you let me bend you over that desk.”

And just—what?

“No one said this was a negotiation.”

“But ain’t it more fun if it is?”

She glares at him and he just stares right back and she feels a flush creeping across her chest the longer she lets this silent battle stretch out.

“Fine.” Beth reaches over and slaps her hand down on the button to start the pictures.

The booth lights up in a soft glow, a voice coming over the little speakers to give directions and tips for the best pictures, but Rio and Beth are just staring at each other, still caught in this moment, neither one willing or able to break it, and Beth’s already cataloguing every detail, right down to the lick of his lips and the slow blink of his eyes as he brings his hand up, brushing it over her cheek just as the flash goes off for the first picture.

And then Beth is practically crawling into his lap in the already limited space, and her skirt is too tight, she can’t position her legs the way she wants so she just ends up sitting in his lap as she slides her hands around to the back of his neck, gripping it tightly as she pulls him into a kiss.

She pushes down on him, smacking his head against the wall as she grinds her ass into his lap and he groans against her mouth, arms coming up to wrap tightly around her and squeeze.

The flash keeps going off until the pictures are all done and they have to pull apart to come up for air.

And then there’s a knock against the side of the booth and a tentative question of whether they’re done or not and Rio shifts Beth off his lap, moving past her to exit the booth first, leaning off to the side and then reaching in and tugging her out by the hand.

He makes a beeline straight for her office and Beth feels like her whole body is on fire with the way he pulls her through the crowd, the sense of urgency he always seems to feel when it comes to—this, to them, makes her chest ache with want.

He steps aside so she can go in first and then closes and locks the door, going around to each window and shutting the blinds and Beth laughs as she takes her witch hat off and tosses it aside, running her fingers through her hair. “You’ve never been very subtle.”

“I’ve never been a lot o’ things before you, darlin’.”

Beth glances over her shoulder and sees he’s done with the blinds, just standing and watching her now, and the laser focus he has, has her feeling a bit bold as her hands find the hem of her dress, fingers hooking in to shimmy the fabric up and over her ass as she leans over the desk, planting her hands firmly on top and she sucks in a sharp breath when he’s instantly on her, hands sliding over her ass, down her thighs, swiping between her legs like he craves every inch of her skin and he doesn’t know where to start first.

Her breath quickens, breasts straining against her dress as her chest heaves a little and then his mouth is biting at her shoulder as she rocks back against him, and he’s plastering himself to her back, pushing her down with his body as he shoves things off the desk, until she’s pressed flat against it.

He rocks himself against her a little, grinding into her, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing over the silk of her underwear and jesus, Beth really thinks she could come just like this.

He continues his slow assault on her senses even as he lifts up, his fingertips trailing down the expanse of exposed skin at her back. He leans down and places a single kiss along her spine and Beth shivers as she pushes back against him.

She thinks he can sense her impatience, because he slows down even more and she whines in frustration.

“You need something, baby?” He asks, laughter in his voice and Beth pushes herself halfway up. “You are so annoying.”

But then he’s placing a flat palm against her back and pushing her back down, growling out a “Stay.” that has wet heat shooting low and jesus, she thinks she’s soaked through her underwear already and he’s barely touched her.

He reaches down and yanks her underwear off and then he’s bending down and biting one of her ass cheeks and Beth jerks against the desk as she gasps.

She swings her arm back to smack him and he grabs her wrist, pinning it against the small of her back as his other hand unzips his jeans and Beth tries to pull her hand away, but his grip just tightens and then he’s kicking at her feet, spreading her legs further apart right before he pushes into her and Beth bites down on her lip to stop from crying out, her free hand smacking against the top of the desk.

“Fuck, Elizabeth...drive me fuckin’ crazy.” He husks, pressing into her wrist harder as he pulls out slowly and then thrusts back in just as slowly, repeating the motion again and again and again until Beth feels like she can’t take anymore.

“God, Rio please...” She breathes out trying to pull at her wrist once more, and this time he lets her go, pulling out of her and yanking her up and spinning her around, dropping her right on top of the desk before pushing into her again just as his thumb swipes over her clit and Beth sees stars, eyes closing as her hand yanks at Rio’s shirt and he kisses her, swallowing her moans as she comes. She slumps against him and he slows his thrusts into short shallow ones as he places soft kisses along her neck and collarbone and lips.

And then he’s gathering her up close in his arms, holding her tight as he fucks into her fast and hard, chasing after his own orgasm, and she strokes her hands over his hair and neck and shoulders, shivering a little when she feels him come inside of her.

They stay like that, clinging to one another, for awhile and Beth thinks this might be her favorite part.

This part right after, when he’s still inside of her, the hard, sharp planes of his body pressed so firmly, so surely, against her soft curves, breathing heavily against her skin as he presses open mouthed kisses there.

This part when he’s soft and pliant and trembles beneath her gentle touch.

He gently pulls out of her and she lets out a shuddering breath as she keeps a grip on his arm, keeping him close and he chuckles as he pulls his clothing back into place and reaches over, grabbing a few tissues from the box that’s knocked over next to her, gently wiping between her legs, and then tossing the tissue in the trash bin.

Beth looks up at him and laughs as she realizes he’s still wearing the horns, although a bit more lopsided now.

He grins as he reaches up and takes them off, slipping them onto her head instead, hands sliding through her hair, tugging her head back as he pulls her into another kiss.

“Diabla...” He murmurs against her lips and Beth thinks she can probably guess what that means.

He pulls away from her, reaching down to grab her underwear and help her slide them back on and then he helps her off the desk to pull her dress back into place.

“You go first.” She says, still feeling a little wobbly on her legs as she pats at her hair, and swipes at her eye makeup.

She turns around, surveying the mess scattered across the floor and she’s about to bend down and pick up her witch hat when she feels him behind her as he presses his hand into hers. “See you out there.” He whispers in her ear, lips brushing against her shoulder and then he’s gone and Beth lifts her hand up, unfurling her fingers to look at the slip of photo paper he’d pressed into her palm— the top half of the pictures of them from the photo booth.

#Hauntober Prompts #Hauntober #Prompts #ficlet #brio #writing #AO3 #fanfiction #Hey!#it's Halloween party time!

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 5 years

Note

Ooooh!! # 21 again plz and thanks!

Here is Part 2 of a request I had received and written before! You can find part one in the link below:

Part One

Continuation of #21

"No, I want to speak with Hermione Granger. Floor four, her office number is four fifty s- no I dont want to speak with a consulting Healer I want Hermione!"

Harry was currently bent over, yelling into the floocall he had with St Mungos, getting more frustrated than he really should've. Hermione was not only one of the best Healers in the hospital, but was still hounded by people who only wanted to meet her for her part in the war. There were security measures in place for her own protection, which Harry understood, but he needed to see her now.

"Harry," Draco began in a sing-song tone, and Harry whipped his head around quickly. He was currently standing on a stool with one foot, the other kicked upward as if to help him balance or reach, and he had his hands searching the very top of the bookcase he was standing in front of. Harry was pretty sure the only thing up there was dust, but Draco seemed pretty happy. "Harry, look! I found it!"

"You found what, Draco?" Harry asked, also listening with one ear as the nurse explained for the third time why she couldnt just fetch The Hermione Granger. Draco began to wobble on the stool causing Harry to shoot up quickly, racing over and catching Draco as he fell from the stool. Once Draco was safely in his arms, the man began to giggle profusely.

"You- ha- you caught me!" He giggled again, standing before leaning against Harry and placing a hand against his forehead. "Like I was a damsel in distress!"

"You're not exactly a damsel, Draco," Harry mumbled before hearing 'Hello? Sir? Is this a good time?' from the floo. Harry took a deep breath, pulling Draco to sit on the couch before kneeling back down in front of the floo. "No, it's not a good time! That's why I need Hermione Granger!"

"Sir, it's just that-"

"I understand the rules! But I'm Harry Potter, I am her best fucking friend and I have an emergency!"

"Harry, dont you want to know what I've found?" He glanced back quickly to see Draco standing with his hands behind his back, pouting.

"Why do you keep getting up?"

"Sir?"

"Sorry, just, please. Just deliver the message. Immediately. It's an emergency and Harry needs her. I'll be at my house." Harry reached up, pulling the lever closed quickly and huffing loudly. He stood up, turning to see Draco's pout once more. "Of course, I would love to see what you have found, Draco."

Draco's face lit up as he pulled his hands from behind his back, shoving the item forward. He held a black picture frame with dust covering the glass, and Harry took it from him gently, his brow furrowing. Slowly, he wiped the dust from the frame and took in a deep breath.

He took a seat on the couch near him, placing a hand over his mouth as he studied the picture. It must've been one Sirius had when he lived here that had fallen and was forgotten, or was placed there to be out of the way. He watched a loop of all four mauraders, his father, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, all arm in arm. They were smiling and waving to the camera before tackling each other and yelling audioless words at each other. They seemed so happy, and so young. Probably just before their last year of Hogwarts.

"Did I make you sad?" Harry glanced up, only just realizing he felt tear tracks on his cheeks and that Draco was sitting very close next to him. Draco raised a hand and began rubbing his back, a small sad expression on his face. "I didnt want you sad. I wanted you to be happy like I was." Harry blinked a few times before clearing his throat and rubbing at his cheeks to clear them of tears. "That's your dad right?"

"Yeah, that's my dad. I'm not sad, but the way. It's- uh, its happy tears." He watched a bright smile cross Draco's face before the man quickly leaned over and gave Harry a full body hug.

"Harry Potter, I swear to Merlin- if you've harrassed my poor nurse just because you want to complain about your incessant pining- what the fuck?" Hermione was stepping through the floo, speaking before she even fully exited the green flames. Her hair was a mess (or more of a mess than usual), and her clothes were wrinkled as if she just finished another 24 hour work shift at the hospital- and her current facial expression was a mix of tired, surprised, and guilty. "Malfoy is hugging you?"

"Oh! Granger! You look so tired, I think you should get some sleep!" Draco jumped up from the couch, rushing to her and smoothing his hands against her shoulders to smooth out some wrinkles. She looked incredulous, studying him for a moment before looking back at Harry.

"What happened to Malfoy?"

"I think someone put some kind of drug or potion in his coffee. He's been acting-" Harry hesitated, watching as Draco wandered off and picked up a knick knack from the shelf, beginning to play with it. "Well- yeah."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, shaking her head at him before rushing back over to Draco and plastering on a large smile. "Oh, Draco darling. I don't need sleep, I'm perfectly fine!"

"Oh you're so happy!" Draco cheered, grinning, before hugging her. She held him tightly, leaning in to smell his neck before pushing him away and withdrawing her wand.

"You know what would make me so happy?" Draco widened his eyes, nodding for the response. "Waving my wand around and scanning for people's well being! You know, since I'm a healer and all."

"Of course!" Draco agreed, smiling brightly and setting the knick knack back down.

"May I?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows as her smile calmed a bit, her demeanor shifting more serious.

"Yes, please!" He spread his arms out, grinning as she waved her wand in front of him. Draco suddenly glanced at Harry, smiling wide. "Look Harry! We're having so much fun!"

Harry stood, unable to keep a smile from his face while seeing Draco so happy. "So much fun, Draco." He walked closer as Hermione finished her scan, letting Draco know he could drop his arms. Draco bounced on the balls of his feet like an excited child, and Harry felt a rush of strong affection for the man. He loved seeing Draco so happy, but it hurt knowing that this wasn't actually him. Harry reached forward suddenly, wrapping his arms around Draco and holding him tightly against his chest. Draco responded positively, wrapping his arms around Harry and burying his face into Harry's chest.

"I've found it. It's an overly strong variation of a cheering potion, with added hawthorn." She glanced up at Harry, nodding. "It takes away impulse control, and reverts someone's consciousness to a simple childlike state. He wants to do what makes him happy, and he wants everyone else to be happy too. Though, I'm sure you've figured the symptoms out already."

Harry nodded quickly, moving one hand to make a 'hurry' gesture before replacing his hold on Draco. "Okay so the cure. A spell, a potion? How long will this take? Any long term effects?"

Hermione huffed, waving her wand to dissipate a floating chart and then nodded. "They brewed the potion poorly, and a typical cheering potion can be counteracted with the antidote. We have those on hand at the hospital. I'll run over and grab it and head back immediately. Give me a few minutes."

Hermione immediately left through the floo, and Harry took a deep breath. "Alright, Draco. We'll fix you soon. You'll be okay." He rubbed Draco's back for a moment, but after no response he decides to back up slightly and glance down at Draco. "Did you... want to do something? To like- make you happy?"

"I am happy," Draco mumbled, snuggling closer into Harry's chest. Harry took a deep breath, glancing up and trying to will the heat he felt in his cheeks to calm down.

"Let's go sit, okay?" He heard a mumbled reply and then nodded, pulling Draco over to the couch. Draco snuggled closer into Harry, and Harry found it hard to deny him this. It was only for a little bit anyway, right? Just until Hermione was back with the potion.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing he felt in his chest. Draco's shampoo invaded his senses, making him dizzy, and he held Draco tighter to his chest. He felt butterflies in his stomach and heat in his cheeks, but kept repeatedly telling himself to calm down. Draco would never actually want to do this. Once he was back to normal, everything will be fine.

The floo wooshed again, Hermione stepping out of the flames. She took one look at them, raised an eyebrow, then set the bottle on the mantel and left. Harry sighed, shaking his head before reaching down to pat Draco's shoulder.

"Hey, Draco, I have something I need you to drink." Hatry glanced down, tilting his head when Draco didn't move immediately. "Draco?" He slightly pushed the man, who in return whined loudly and snuggled closer to him.

"I don't want to move! This is the best thing ever!" Draco tightened his hold, and Harry took a deep breath once again.

"Would you please drink it? For me?" Harry waited, and after a moment Draco lifted his head and nodded. "Alright, good. It's on the mantel over there."

"And after I drink it we can do this again?" He asked, pouting slightly. He sighed, smiling softly in return.

"If you still want to, of course." Harry spoke quietly, but Draco heard and smiled brightly, jumping up quickly. He raced to the mantel, taking the shimmering blue potion and uncorking the bottle, downing the whole thing.

It took a few moments, but Harry saw the reaction once the effect wore off. Draco calmed down infinitely, no longer looking like he was about to fall over or tackle someone. His face took on his typical masked expression, and Harry wondered what exactly he was thinking now.

"Thank you for your help," Draco mumbled quietly, placing the bottle down without looking back. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Draco grabbed a fistful of powder and flooed away immediately.

"Fuck." Harry let his head fall into his hands, clutching his hair between his fingers. "I'm so fucked."

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #drabble #auror au #requested

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inmyownlittlecorner5 · 4 years

Text

Moonlight Chapter 17: Proxy

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 17/26

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Sixteen+

Chapter Eighteen+ >>

Miranda had been crouching on the tree branch so long that all of her limbs were stiff. It was a comfortably warm day; the trees were budding, the grass had returned, and the nesting birds spoke to the true arrival of spring. She had been tracking a pair of bohemian waxwings for hours, her sharp eyes following the bright yellow tail feathers through the forest, and patiently waiting for them to settle down for an afternoon rest. That hoped for afternoon rest was quickly becoming an evening one, and she did not like the idea of having to use lumos to continue her practice. In her experience, magic tended to startle most animals.

She was about to call it a day, when the birds finally nestled themselves cozily against one another. Miranda felt a bit sorry to disturb them, but she only had another month to perfect her bird-catching technique before the first trial. She and Catalina had been tasked with capturing a pair of Birds of Paradise during the spring migration at the Danube Delta. To make the job more difficult, the birds had to be taken alive.

A quarter of an hour passed in silence while Miranda watched the waxwings on their perch. There was an odd bird call or two, but nothing to disturb her marks. Finally, she flicked her wrist, sending a net over the birds and pulling it tight. The waxwings gave a startled cry and flapped their wings in protest, but they were caught fast. Miranda made her way quickly through the branches to scoop up the net, cooing quietly before drawing her wand.

“Somnus,” she cast, and the captured birds instantly fell fast asleep. Satisfied, Miranda climbed nimbly down the tree and dropped lightly to the ground.

“{Nicely done, Doamnă Rose,}” Vasile Ursu commented.

Miranda’s body automatically tensed at the intruder, but she let herself relax when she recognized his perpetually sad-looking face and bushy eyebrows. She set the captured birds on the ground and carefully removed the net.

“{Thank you, Domnul Ursu,}” she replied, wondering why he had decided to travel to Transylvania. When she had released the birds, she waved her wand over them. They sprang back awake and flapped away, as though their adventure with the strange human had not happened. Miranda watched them until they disappeared into the trees, but she kept Vasile in the corner of her eye as she asked, “{What brings you this far from home?}”

His smile did not quite reach his eyes. “{The pleasant company.}”

After the extremely tense meeting between Doamnă Lupul and the champions, Miranda had not seen the Dragneas or any of their friends. Some of this was certainly due to Miranda’s decision to leave Săpânța as soon as Doamnă Lupul had dismissed her, but she knew that Catalina had been training at the Dragon Sanctuary, just as Miranda was, and their paths had not yet crossed there. Learning to ride a dragon was proving more grueling than Miranda had expected it to be, and so she had decided to keep her silly ‘search’ for Sirius Black as close to the Sanctuary as possible until she got the hang of it. Fortunately, Charlie was an expert at healing burns and broken bones, and she had until the summer to figure it out.

“{Would you care for a cup of coffee, then?}” she asked politely.

“{That would be very good of you,}” Vasile replied, falling into step next to her. For such a large man he was light on his feet and happy to match whatever pace she set. Between Doamnă Lupul, Domnul Dragnea, and Domnul Ursu, Ursu worried her the least. She could tell that he was more powerful than she was, but she could also tell that his nature was a gentle one, and he would not strike unless provoked.

They reached a flower strewn clearing and, at the snap of Miranda’s fingers, a round, purple and silver tent appeared. She was irritated that she would have to move camp so soon after finding this secluded spot, but she was curious enough to know what Ursu had to say that she supposed it was worth the trouble. She led the way up the stairs of the wooden platform and pulled open the carved door, stepping back politely so that Ursu might enter first. He smiled approvingly at the cozy interior, so unlike the No-Maj camping that Miranda had done with her father and brothers as a child. A small, wood burning stove sat on a spiral of bricks in the center of the tent, its smokestack snaking up through the skylight above it. With a flick of Miranda’s wand, a pair of chairs and a little table sprang out of the canvas floor in front of the stove. Another flick started the fire and Vasile took up residence in one of the chairs while Miranda went to the cabinet across from the stove for a kettle of water and the coffee pot.

“{How are the Dragneas these days?}” she asked, waving her wand over the kettle to set the water boiling and digging the coffee and sugar out of the cabinet.

“{They are well,}” Vasile answered evenly. The latest edition of The Quibbler was on the little table and, when he tapped it with his finger, the type rearranged itself into Romanian. He picked it up and began perusing the screaming headline and the picture of the sheepish, scarred boy on the front cover. “{Although they are still angry, if that is what you are asking.}”

The coffee beans were grinding themselves into a fine powder as Miranda pulled the kaymak out of the ice box. She spooned the grounds and the sugar into the pot, poured the water over it, and then started carefully skimming the top off of the kaymak and adding it to a pair of blue and white cups.

“{You’ll have to tell me if I’ve got it right yet,}” she said. “{I am sorry about Doamnă Catalina. I liked her very much.}”

“{She is young. They way she goes now may not be the way she always goes.}”

Miranda leaned against the cabinet and studied the set of Vasile’s broad shoulders. Although his voice was friendly, his body was tense. “{And are you also still angry?}”

“{I was never angry, Doamnă Rose. But I will thank you to keep that to yourself, and I will deny it if you tell anyone.}”

She gave the pot a stir, mentally replaying the conversations she’d had with Vasile in the past. “{I thought you and Domnul Dragnea were close friends.}”

Vasile was still reading The Quibbler, and he answered simply, “{That does not mean that I agree with every choice he makes.}”

The coffee seemed to have reached the proper color, so she poured it carefully into the mugs, trying to leave as much of the grounds in the pot as possible. The dark liquid turned a cheerful, milky brown and she brought the little cups to the table before settling herself in the chair next to Vasile. He put down the magazine and the two of them sipped in silence. Miranda found the hot, sweet drink especially welcome after the long day of bird tracking, and Vasile’s shoulders relaxed as he swallowed.

“{You’ve done well, for a foreigner,}” he said, “{but, next time put the grounds and the sugar in the pot before you boil it. Then it will be perfect.}”

“{Thank you. I will.}”

“{This Voldemort. He murders children?}”

“{He’s a madman. He murders whomever he likes.}”

Vasile took another sip of his coffee, and then sighed heavily. “{I should not stay long, Nicolae is expecting me this evening. But there are important things I have to tell you.}”

Miranda smiled wryly. “{Anything as important as the fact that I’ll die if I leave Romania for longer than three days for the duration of this contest?}” At the end of the meeting in February, Vasile had been kind enough to mention that little stipulation to Miranda. “{Thank you for informing me of that, by the way. It would have been a short competition otherwise. I didn’t realize that I was basically taking an Unbreakable Vow when I signed up for this business.}”

He chuckled. “{Yes, sometimes Doamnă Lupul forgets that the rest of us are not as experienced as she is. She expects everyone to know as much as she does. This is perhaps not as personally important to you, but it will help you just the same.}” Reaching into his robes, he withdrew a long braid of thick, white horse’s hair, and set it reverently on the table between them. “{Do you know what this is?}”

It took all of Miranda’s control to keep her mouth from dropping open. “{It’s unicorn hair. But where did you get so much?}”

He ignored her question. “{I will assume that you know what to do with it. And I will also assume that you understand that I did not give it to you.}”

“{Thank you. I might stand a chance at catching those birds now.}” She ran her fingers over the braid and it was cold to the touch. “{Are you sure?}”

“{Sure about what?}” A real smile wrinkled his face, and he finally seemed to be at ease. “{Be so good as to put that away, if you please.}”

“{Of course.}” Obediently, she gathered the precious hair into her arms and carried it to the scuffed steamer trunk that stood next to the one bookshelf in the tent. It popped open as she approached and she nestled the the gift carefully beneath her clothing before shutting the trunk tight. “{Is there anything else I should know?}”

Vasile’s smile became a grimace. “{It is probably too much to hope that you are an expert potions mistress in addition to being an adventuress.}”

“{That is true, I’m only passable,}” Miranda said honestly as she came back to her chair. “{May I ask why you want to know? I thought that I only had to gather the ingredients for the Iele’s Youth Potion. Won’t they brew it themselves?}”

“{It is not for the Iele, it is for the children. They have been between worlds for so long, that they will need something to help them transition back to this one. Without it, they may die of shock when they return.}”

“{Is this another part of the competition that Doamnă Lupul forgot to mention?}”

“{Something like that.}”

“{Does it have to be me? I may know just the man for the job.}”

“{If he is one of yours, that will do. When can you bring him to me?}”

Miranda frowned, considering how difficult it would be to convince Severus to take a jaunt to Romania. “{Can’t I just bring him the instructions? He’s very accomplished.}”

“{No, it is far too complicated. It will be better if I show him what he must do. Then he can brew it wherever he likes.}”

Well, she’d just have to try. “{Then I’ll bring him in a few weeks, say just before Easter. Will that be enough time?}”

“{Barely, but we will make the best of it.}” He finished his coffee and stood, his joints creaking and popping as he stretched. Miranda stood as well, and he surprised her by putting his hands on her shoulders and leaning down to kiss her on both cheeks. “{Bring him to my cave when you have him.}”

“{I thought you didn’t want to be seen with me.}” she said playfully.

“{Nicolae knows better than to watch my cave too closely.}” He winked at her and started for the door.

“{Domnul Ursu, may I ask why you came to me with this and not to Doamnă Catalina?}”

“{Who says that I haven’t gone to her as well?}”

“{Ah, I see.}”

“{No, you don’t. Not quite. The truth is that Catalina is desperate to prove herself and to win her father’s approval. If I give her the potion, her father will forbid her to share it.}”

“{And you think that I will?}”

He eyed her shrewdly. “{I know that you will.}”

*****

“And then they crashed right into the Whomping Willow!” Arthur Weasley finished through his laughter. “It was a miracle that they didn’t die, and another miracle that Molly didn’t kill them afterwards.”

“That sounds like the time my brother Finnian and I made off with the family truck,” Miranda laughed. “Only without the flying.”

“Did you crash it into a murderous tree, too?”

“Sort of. Neither of us were tall enough to drive it alone, so Fin sat on the floor and worked the pedals while I did the steering. It took us about five minutes to crash into the horse barn and Papa grounded us for six months. I’ve always thought that night had something to do with my becoming a bounty hunter. After facing my livid father, fugitives and monsters seem downright cuddly.”

“I never did anything of the sort when I was young,” Aaron said loftily. “I was perfectly behaved at all times.”

“Says the man who put and Exploding Scarab on my chair in the very first potions class we ever had together.”

“I just wanted to get your attention,” Aaron protested.

“Which you did in spades.”

The three of them were sitting together around Arthur’s desk in his private, if tiny, office, eating pimento cheese sandwiches and Molly Weasley’s lemon cake. Arthur had covered the top of his desk with a faded blue tablecloth, and Miranda had brought a bottle of palinka to share. The fiery plum brandy had given Arthur a coughing fit at the first sip, but Aaron took to it like a duck to water.

“How’s the dragon riding coming?” Aaron asked.

Miranda made a face. “I spend most of my time on the ground at the moment, convincing the dragons that I’m worthy to ride on them. Half the time they decided to scorch me for fun. And when I actually do mount up, I usually can’t keep my seat during take-off. It’s a good thing that Charlie’s around to fix me up afterwards. I’m glad that I have until June to figure it out.”

“You raise horses at home, yes?” Arthur asked.

“We do. Honestly, I’d rather ride a horse than a broom.”

“Do you use magic to help care for them?”

“That’s the funny thing—horses hate magic. Sometimes, if we’re in a big hurry, Fin’ll take the horses out and I’ll use magic to clean the stalls. But the horses can always tell and they’re usually off the next day if I do. So it’s mucking, feeding, and grooming by hand most of the time.”

“What a mess that must make!” Arthur’s face lit up at the idea.

“If you ever make it out to Edgewood, come stay with us and I’ll show you how.”

“Only if you teach me to ride one too.”

“Of course! You should come and bring the family. It’d be a hoot!”

“Speaking of hoots and your family,” Aaron put in, “could you please tell Conor to leave the physical wards the Aurors set alone?”

“I told you he was no good at being baby-sat,” Miranda replied. “He says he can’t sleep with strange wards around. But I thought you had Malfoy under control. He was perfectly polite today.”

“I’ve got him for the moment, but Rachel says Narcissa’s been excited lately because Lucius has something big in the works. Can’t be too careful.”

“I see. I’ll talk to Papa, but I can’t promise anything. If Mama bakes some cookies for the Aurors, will that help them keep their patience with Papa?”

“Couldn’t hurt to try.”

“I’m constantly amazed at what good baking can accomplish,” Arthur observed.

“And how.” Aaron finished his palinka and poured another round, topping off Arthur’s mostly full glass despite the man’s mild protest. “Arthur, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“I hope it doesn’t involve anything too dangerous. Molly thinks I’m in deep enough as it is.”

“No, not dangerous. It’s about the baby.”

“Is everything all right?” Miranda asked sharply.

“Yes, yes, everything’s fine,” Aaron replied, waving his hand to shush Miranda’s clucking. “It’s about the baptism. My brother, Jeremiah, is going to be godfather, but he insists there’s no way he can make it to the actual ceremony. We’re going to have it as soon after the birth as possible, and Rachel and I were wondering if you’d mind being proxy godfather.”

“A stand in? I think I can do that,” Arthur grinned. “It would be an honor.”

“It’ll be a quiet to do, but we’d love it if Molly came too.”

“Only if you’ll let her fuss over your lovely wife.”

“It’s a deal. To Arthur and the baby,” Aaron toasted. The three clinked glasses and sipped, and Arthur managed not to cough this time. Aaron gave Miranda a teasing grin and asked, “You think that fella of yours would want to come?”

Miranda snorted at the idea of Severus at a baptism. “I’m guessing no, but I’ll ask him, if only to see his eyebrow start twitching at the idea.” She did an impressive imitation of Severus’s irritated expression, the one that was just on the cusp of anger, and Aaron choked on his palinka.

“I don’t know this chap, do I?” Arthur asked. “I feel as though I’ve seen that expression before.”

“You do,” Miranda laughed. “He’s tortured all of your children for years in potions classes at Hogwarts.”

Arthur’s mouth dropped open when he realized who Miranda meant, and he threw back his head, laughing. “You…and Severus…no!”

“You’re the second person who’s laughed out loud at the thought,” Miranda commented good-naturedly.

Arthur choked his laughter into a cough, turning red in the face. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. It’s just that you are so cheerful and he is so…not.”

“What can I say? He won me over with his sunny disposition. But don’t be sorry, I know we make an odd pair.”

A bright red cuckoo bird popped out of the clock on the wall, chirping the hour. Arthur gave the thing a frown, but said reluctantly, “I’m afraid I have to get back to work, I’ve a pile of leads to research before my afternoon meetings. But I will have the pleasure of seeing you in a month, I hope.”

“You can count on it,” Miranda said.

“Wonderful, I look forward to it.”

There was a bustle of wand flicking, dirty dishes cleaning themselves and stacking neatly, and the tablecloth rolling up and flying back to its place on top of the filing cabinet. Arthur shook hands with Aaron and gave Miranda warm hug.

“Good luck, Miranda,” he said. “Give my love to Charlie.”

“I will,” she promised, but her smile had fallen away. “Arthur, I hate to be a bother, but I should probably ask you not to tell anyone about Severus and I. Security, you know?”

A kind, thoughtful expression replaced the mirth on Arthur’s face. “Of course, I understand. It wouldn’t be safe for either of you if it were common knowledge. That must be difficult.”

She shrugged. “It is what it is. Thank you for understanding.”

*****

“Do you have time to come by and see Rachel now, or are you going straight over to Hogwarts?” Aaron asked when he and Miranda reached the street.

“I’d love to,” Miranda agreed. “Severus has to teach one of those private lessons that he hates tonight, so I have some time to kill.”

“How are those going?”

“I don’t ask, but I gather that they’re going very badly.” She rolled her eyes. “Between you and me, I don’t think that teaching is the best career for him. If we’d had a teacher like him at Ilvermorny, we’d have blown up his office in protest and been expelled.”

Aaron laughed. “We still could, if you think it would help.”

“I’ll let you know.”

*****

“Reparo,” Severus hissed through clenched teeth. The shattered jars flew back together and floated silently to their places on the shelves. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done to salvage their contents, and he berated himself for the waste as he vanished the mess before it could spread any further across his office floor. The fit had done nothing to calm his anger either, although it had perhaps prevented him from murdering Potter.

How dare he? How dare that brat poke his arrogant head into the Pensieve? Severus had clearly ordered the boy to leave his office so that he could clean up yet another Gryffindor produced mess. Graham Montague had almost killed himself escaping from the no-man’s-land inside the vanishing cabinet. It did seem that the Slytherin would make a full recovery, but for Severus then to return to his office and find Potter relishing one of the worst moments of his life? It was the final straw. He didn’t care what Albus said—he would never teach Potter private lessons again and, as soon as possible, the boy would be out of potions classes forever. At this moment, Severus didn’t care if the Dark Lord did take over Potter’s mind. In fact, if the Dark Lord were to summon Severus right now and demand that he hand over Potter immediately, Severus would be hard pressed to resist the temptation to fulfill the order, promises be damned.

Mess cleared away, he stormed out of his office. The thought of being disturbed by either a student or a staff member was more than he could bear. He needed to be alone. He dodged one of the Weasley twins’ infernal fireworks and mused that what he really wanted was to leave Hogwarts and never see it again. At least it was Wednesday and he would not have to look at Potter’s arrogant face again until after the Easter Holidays. Except in the Great Hall of course; Merlin, why was this his life?

Murder was still on his mind as he jerked open the door to his quarters, relieved to be somewhere private. Baring a total disaster, no one would dare to bother him here. He stepped into the sitting room, closed the door, and stopped short.

“Are the fireworks in my honor? Darling, you shouldn’t have,” Miranda said, smiling up at him. She was lounging in his chair, her legs draped over one of the arms, a book on her lap. “Rachel said to let you know that she’ll have some research to send your way in a week or two…”

Her voice trailed off and those grey eyes that always seemed to see more than he meant to show her studied him intently. Finally she asked lightly, “Bad day?”

“You have no idea,” he muttered. Merlin’s beard, he didn’t want to see anyone—not even her. Miranda with her slew of friends and her lovely family and her perfect life. How could she possibly understand? He ground his teeth together until he could feel a muscle in his jaw start twitching in an effort to stop himself from spewing forth the tirade that was building inside him. He wanted to explode at someone and she was sitting right here, patiently waiting for him to say something.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked calmly.

Curse her. Curse her and her concerned look, and her beautiful face, and her graceful body. Curse her for caring. Curse her for being kind when he only wanted to be cruel. Curse her for being here when he wanted to be alone.

“Just go away,” he growled, stalking past her to his desk. He sat down heavily, his back firmly to her, and started viciously marking a scroll. His hand moved evenly while his rage pounded inside him, and he was glad to vent his spleen on an essay so full of idiotic mistakes. After a moment, he heard Miranda put her book in her bag, slide off the chair, and head for the door. The silence was palpable, but he did nothing to break it, he simply kept writing and waiting for her to be gone. She paused at the door, set her bag on the ground, and soon her light step was crossing the room to him. Curse her, why wouldn’t she leave?

His already rigid shoulders tensed even more when she put her hands on them, and he stubbornly kept writing, attempting to ignore her touch.

“I thought I told you to leave,” he said acidly.

“You did,” she replied. “I’ll go in a minute.”

Her strong fingers went to work on his shoulders, expertly finding every knot of tension and coaxing it away. She went slowly, as though she had all the time in the world and nothing better to do with it than patiently draw the anger out of his body.

His quill slipped out of his fingers and he murmured, “You are insufferable.”

“I know.”

Gradually, his head drooped forward and he gave himself up to the sensation. She really had no business being so nice to him. Didn’t she realize how arrogant, petty, and cruel he was? But he was also selfish and, if she wanted to waste her time with him, who was he to complain about it?

He did not know how much time passed before she slowed her pace to a halt. She placed a kiss on the top of his head and went back to the door without saying another word. He heard her pick up her bag and turn the knob. In another moment, she would be gone and he would finally be alone. But, for some reason, that no longer seemed so important.

“Wait,” he ordered quietly. “I’m coming with you.”

*****

“I have to go back early tomorrow,” she reminded him over coffee and tea in the morning. They were sitting together in her cabin, reading the paper over breakfast. He was dressed except for his frock coat, and she was lounging in her dressing gown, her feet comfortably resting on his lap under the table.

“I remember,” he replied as he idly stroked her bare legs with one hand. “I’ll be finished with classes by mid-afternoon.”

“Are you coming back here, or do you want me to come to you?”

“At the moment, I wish to see as little of Hogwarts as possible.”

“Does that mean that you’re going to keep yourself in the dungeons all day?”

“It is best for Potter’s life expectancy that I do.”

“Then could you please let the house elves feed you lunch?”

“No.” He could feel his lips tug into a smile. It amused him how much it annoyed her when he skipped meals.

Predictably, she let out an irritated sigh. “Then you’ll be a ravenous beast when you get here.”

“Fortunately, you happen to be a bounty hunter. Dealing with ravenous beasts is your specialty.”

“I guess it is,” she said, sounding resigned. “And my brothers will never let me hear the end of it if they find out I’m on a case collecting ingredients for magical femme fatale beauty cream. Although, anymore, they’re only impressed when I take down vampires and werewolves on my own.”

He felt his mood darken and he fixed her with a sharp glare. “I thought we agreed that you were no longer hunting werewolves.”

She raised her hands in protest. “I’m not! At least, not until the tebo hide is ready to stitch into a tunic. Then I’ll be protected from pesky things like werewolf claws.”

“In that case, I suppose I should be grateful to have another six months of peace while it cures,” he said, going back to the paper.

“What are you going to do for the Easter Holidays?” she asked casually.

“The usual. Marking scrolls. Running hither and yon at Albus’s and the Dark Lord’s capricious whims.”

“Why don’t you come visit me?”

His eyes snapped up from the paper and the impish gleam in her eyes unnerved him. What was she up to now? “No. I couldn’t possibly.”

“Why not? I can meet you at the Merry Cemetery on Friday evening when you’re finished here. I get the feeling that a break from all this would do you good.”

Merlin, she was like a siren. “What if I were summoned?” he objected.

“You’d take my port-key to my cabin and be no later than if you had to walk outside of the wards at Hogwarts from your rooms in the dungeon.”

“I doubt that either the Dark Lord or Albus would be pleased with my leaving the country.” He set down the paper, gave her legs a final squeeze, and pushed them off of his lap before rising to collect his frock coat.

She picked up his half of the paper and asked matter-of-factly, “Why do they need to know?”

“It is strange, but each of them seems to think that he is my master.”

“Here and I thought you were an expert Occlumens.”

“I am,” he said testily as he swiftly did up the buttons of his coat.

“So, don’t tell them. And, if they ask, just lie.”

He scoffed at her audacity although the thought of defying both Albus and the Dark Lord was enticing at the moment. As he pondered this, he went back to the table and put his hands on her shoulders.

“You are a terrible influence,” he chided.

She leaned her head back in order to look up at him, her eyes wide and innocent. “Come on, you know you miss me. And it won’t do anyone much good if you murder Potter.”

Her breath tickled his throat when he bent down to kiss her, and her lips were as sweet and tempting as her ridiculous idea.

“You may, perhaps, have a point,” he allowed.

“About you missing me, or about the merits of you not killing Potter?”

“Have I mentioned how amusing it is to watch you fish for compliments?”

“And have I mentioned that women like to hear them once in a while?”

He dropped one more kiss on her forehead. “I should think it were obvious, but if you must have it in so many words then, yes, I miss you.”

She went back to the paper, but not before he saw the blush that spread over her cheeks. For some strange reason he found it utterly charming that she was such a brazen woman, and yet she could still blush.

“Think about my invitation, will you?” she asked as he plucked his cloak off the hook by the door and pulled it on.

He cleared his throat in order to assume his sternest and most disapproving professor voice. “I will think about it. But I will probably say no.”

The note of laughter in her good-bye made him suspect that he had succeeded in sounding neither disapproving, nor stern.

She really was a terrible influence.

----------------------------------

End Note:

Kaymak is something like clotted cream.

--------------------------------

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Sixteen+

Chapter Eighteen+ >>

#harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape fanfic #severus snape #snape #snape fanfiction #snape fanfic #snape x oc #oc appreciation #snape's worst memory #second wizarding war #espionage #spying #ilvermorny #american magic #romance #action/adventure

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lothtor · 5 years

Text

“Unrequited”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17809238

Harry knew everything about Tom Riddle so when he finds a ring box his whole world is changed. Read on as Harry tries but fails to put aside his feelings to figure out the mystery witch/wizard that Tom might be proposing to. Harry learns the hard way to not apparate angry but thinks that the reward is worth the risk. Okay so the summary is not the best but I was inspired by Take a Step Back and Look by Anonymous for Infernal. It’s a Drarry but like my shipper mind was like Tom and Harry would do this too.

You can either read it online or keep reading under the cut-

Harry's world shattered when he found the green velvet box in the pocket of one of Tom's robes. Being raised in the pureblood customs helped Harry recognize the little box for what it was: an offical courting ring. Even though Tom was a half-blood, much like Harry himself, he held himself like a pureblood so it would make sense for him to follow traditions.

Harry prided himself in knowing everything about his flat-mate. They had been living together since they graduated from Hogwarts two years ago. Both of them decided to stay together since they practically shared a dorm at the castle. During their last year, Harry spent most of his nights over at Tom's private room as Head Boy. They were also the only ones that could put up with the hectic schedule of the other; Harry as an Auror-trainee and Tom working sporadic hours as an assistant to the Undersecretary at the Ministry.

Harry was actually the one to suggest they live together in Diagon Alley since it was close to both of their work offices. With his younger siblings running around the manor, Harry felt that it was too noisy and imposing to stay with his parents after he graduated. He still saw his father every day at the office but he was kept busy as Head Auror. When Harry approached Tom, he was worried that Tom would say no since it was obvious the infatuation Harry had with Tom during their school years.

Harry's friends teased him relentlessly during the last years even going as far to set up dates for him with Tom. Thankfully, either Tom didn't care about his crush or ignored it for the sake of their friendship. Tom would joke around that Harry was the only one who didn't fawn over him like the rest of the school. Harry would always laugh trying to hide the pain he carried. It was the main reason why he never actually made a move on Tom.

Tom's friendship was the first one he made on his own. Harry had escaped the other purebloods on the train and found the compartment Tom occupied on the train. It was Harry's first time on the train and Tom almost shooed the bright eyed child away until Harry had convinced him to stay. Even though Tom was his senior he found the young boy interesting. From there the two were inseparable. They were seen together outside of classes and when Harry surpassed his peers and was promoted to a higher grade, the two sat together in classes.

Hermione and Ron had been trying to pressure Harry into asking Tom out on an 'official' date, or so they called it. They were convinced that both Harry and Tom had been dating in all but name since their fifth year. Harry vehemently denied this since they were just friends and it was normal for friends to go to restaurants and other places together. To shut them up he said by their logic the three of them had been a thruple since they met. Ron made a face at that and Hermione gave up.

However, as Harry stared at the little green box he felt his heart give a painful squeeze. Harry always knew that Tom would eventually get someone in his life but Harry felt that he had a couple more years before he had to move on. Living with Tom didn't help his unrequited crush since seeing Tom everyday made Harry's heart soar. Especially the nights where the two of them watch terrible muggle movies on the tv Harry hotwired to work in their magical apartment. Tom would complain the whole time about how terrible the acting is or the graphics but he would sit there for the whole movie with Harry. Sometimes when Harry fell asleep during one of them he would find that Tom had paused the movie and read a book as to not disturb Harry's sleep.

Harry racked his brain for a name, any name, that Tom had mentioned recently that could help Harry figure out for whom Tom bought the ring. Well Harry thinks it’s a ring at least. It had the Slytherin crest imprinted on the top signifying that the contents were of importance to the family. The little box looked like the box that rested in his trust vault. As the heir to the Potter line Harry had first dibs on the family engagement ring. His parents had created a new ring when they got married instead of using the one passed down through the generations. Something about his mom not liking how chunky the engagement ring was.

The only person that came to mind was Nagini, who as a snake maledictus could understand Tom when he spoke parseltongue, but she was much too old for Tom, in Harry's opinion at least. However, Tom hadn't mentioned meeting Nagini in couple of weeks. Curiosity got the better of Harry and he opened the box. Even though he wasn't the Heir of Slytherin he could open the box and look inside. He just couldn't take the ring out of its holder.

The ring reminded him of the locket that dangled from Tom's neck. The ring had a green diamond on the top that was intertwinned with white gold and silver snakes decorated the edges. The slytherin crest shone through the diamond and shifted as Harry tilted the box around to get a better look at the ring resting inside.

Harry snapped the box shut at the front door opened. He jumped dropping the box back onto the pile of robes on the ground. Panic set into Harry and he apparated up to his room out of fear getting caught.

"Harry?" Tom's voice filtered through the flat but Harry could only hear the blood rushing through his ears.

He couldn't let Tom know that he was snooping through his robes like a creep. So when he heard the footsteps get closer to his room he pictured the Potter manor and was gone in a snap.

He landed in a heap on the front stairs of their house in Godric's Hollow. His parents stayed and made modifications to the small house instead of moving to the giant Manor near the top of the country. His dad always said that it was too close to the Malfoy's for his liking. He was still reeling on the stairs when the front door opened. His sister answered the door and Harry watched as her face went from confusion to amusement in seconds. Her short red hair bobbing with every bubble of laughter that escaped her lips.

She reached down and hauled Harry up by his shoulder.

"Who was that?" His mother's voice drifted up from downstairs.

"It's Harry!" His sister, Seraphina, yelled back.

Their mom was up the stairs in a flash. Her long red hair pulled back into a bun. She pulled Harry into a strong hug. The scent of strong herbs wafted from her person. She must've been in the potion's dungeon brewing. Even though Harry was a good head taller than his mom she could still make him feel small. She judged him with a look.

"What brings you home?" As his mother, she could always tell when something was bothering Harry. This time was no different.

"I just needed a change of scenery." 'And be as far away from Tom while I figure out how to put away my feelings.' His mother quirked an eyebrow at that. Harry had never left the flat willingly and not without Tom.

"You and Tom get in a fight?" She squeezed his shoulders trying to convey comfort but it just increased his panic.

"No. It's just the stress of examinations coming up." Harry wasn't wrong that exams were coming up but he wasn't worried about them in the slightest. He was at the top of the class in both spell-work and theory. Hopefully his mother doesn't look too deep into that excuse.

"Your father says that you're a natural at the coursework." Harry internally groans. Of course his father would brag about his talented son. Him and Sirius were the worst at constantly talking about Harry and his deeds. Even when Sirius had his own children they would embarrass Harry at every opportunity. Any gala turned into Harry's worst nightmare as the two men would drag Harry around.

"Can I just stay here for the night?" The suspicion in her eyes faded replaced by worry.

"Of course. Sera has to leave back to Hogwarts tomorrow and I doubt she had completed her coursework." As the prodigy child, Harry was always the designated tutor for his younger siblings and it seems that hasn’t changed. He wondered how his family was faring without their at-home tutor.

It was Harry's turn to laugh as Sera's face darkened to the same shade of red as her hair. He followed Sera to her room missing the flickering of the fireplace indicating a call.

However, Sera noticed it and at the top of the stairs she dragged Harry to crouch beside her. Harry was about to question her but the fireplace announcing who was calling distracted him.

"Tom. What brings you to call?" His mother was still lounging on the couch. Harry shrunk further behind the railing afraid that the fire figure of Tom would be able to see him. Tom had his arms crossed across his chest and if Harry could read his body language (and he could) he looked worried.

"Harry. Have you seen him?" There was something more to his voice but he had never heard Tom through the flames. Sera scoffed next to him but he elbowed her to keep quiet.

"Why?" Harry loved his mother.

"He apparated out of our flat without a word and I'm worried something might've happened."

"Well you have nothing to worry about. Harry is upstairs helping his sister study." The last bit was forced out and the two spying knew that Lily knew they were there. They scrambled to Sera's room before their mom finished the call.

Harry had fallen asleep on Sera's bed while he waited for her to finish the essay on Wringroot and its uses in hair potions. His nap didn't last long as nightmares plagued him. Harry woke up more tired than when he fell asleep. The aroma of dinner floated through the house and Harry dragged himself from the warm bed in favor of food.

However he stopped dead in tracks on the stairs as he stared at the back of Tom's head. He was sitting down on their couch and somehow got a hold of Harry's baby album. He suspected either Sera or his mom but it was his father who came from around the corner. Two cups of tea floated behind him. He spotted Harry frozen on the stairs. He looked like a stag in headlights and his father laughed at the comparison.

"Nice of you to rejoin the living." Tom turned on the couch and his eyes softened at the sight of Harry. Harry felt his stomach flip at the small smile that graced his features.

"What time is it?" The light that was filtering through the window was artificial so the sun must've set. He didn't mean to sleep that long but trying to teach Sera anything not quidditch related was trying to make a square peg fit into a circular hole. It was frustrating. That plus the emotional exhaustion it didn't take Harry long to pass out.

"Around 7 o'clock. You missed dinner." Even though the smells coming from the kitchen were tempting he actually wasn't hungry.

"That's fine. Not actually hungry." The pit in his stomach grew when he caught sight of the lordship ring on his father's finger and was reminded of why he ran away today.

"So what are you doing here?" He didn't mean for the words to sound callous but the pain in his heart felt vindicated at the hurt that flickered on Tom's face.

"Your mother invited me for dinner."

Harry hummed as he plopped down onto the couch. His mind more preoccupied on how to get his flat-mate to open up about his upcoming engagement. Harry could read confusion in the placement of Tom's brows.

"Sorry for snapping. It's just stress. Don't you have plans?" 'Like the girl you're apparently woo-ing.' Harry thought bitterly.

Tom's brows dropped to shadow his eyes, a sign that he suspected something and Hary only hoped that the jealously didn't creep into his voice.

"Not particularly. I thought something happened to you when I heard two apparation cracks echo through the flat."

Harry pressed himself further into the couch and was starting to think that his family was purposefully leaving him alone with Tom. His father hadn't stayed long in the living area and even his sister, Sera, was nowhere to be seen. Now more than ever he hoped that dinner didn't consist of his family ratting him out to his crush. While it was no secret that Harry had feelings for Tom, Harry never actually told his family about his unrequited feelings.

"Nah. I was getting my things together." It wasn't too far outside the realm of possibility for Harry to apparate around the flat. There was one time he toppled Tom over when he apparated to the kitchen from his room just for a glass of milk. Harry had promised that he could only apparate in the flat when he was the only one home. Tom rolled his eyes and Harry could physically see the worry leave his person.

"Why the sudden trip home?"

"I was hoping that dad could give me some pointers on the exams!" Harry raised his voice hoping his dad could hear him.

"I will not!" His father responded from across the house. Harry smiled.

"It was worth a shot." He shrugged and Tom laughed. Both of them knowing that Harry didn't really need to cheat in order to pass with flying colors.

"Are you staying the night?" The sudden shift in tone had Harry staring into Tom's eyes. Back was the worry and Harry caved.

"Not anymore. I forgot that I'm the tutor sibling." Harry bemoaned. Harry himself was pants at trying to teach others since it came naturally to him. Tom, on the other hand, was gifted in teaching and leading others. It was a big reason he wanted to become the youngest Minister of Magic in a millennia.

Harry stood up stretching out his arms feeling the sleep leave his body.

"I'll go inform my parents and we can go home."

------

The next couple weeks had Harry investigating Tom's life trying to find the witch he was interested in. Nothing had changed in Tom's work schedule but he did spend more time with his Knights. Even if he always dragged Harry to the meetings. Harry himself spent the time discussing with Rigel, Regulus's son, about the newest defense techniques. Harry had even tried to pry the information from Draco but he made a face like he had sucked on a lemon at the question. Besides Harry himself, Tom didn't really talk about himself to anyone.

By the end of the third week, Harry realized that Tom wasn't going to tell him himself so Harry started doing research for Tom. If Harry couldn't marry Tom himself then he would make sure his best friend had the best damn wedding of the century. He was flipping through a wedding catalogue when he was startled by his name being shouted. He fumbled with the papers almost dropping the catalogue as he whipped around at the caller.

It was Luna Lovegood, Neville's fiance, who had yelled his name. Harry should've recognized her voice from anywhere. She became a permanent fixture in his life after they bonded over taking care of the thestrals in the forest during Harry's fifth year. It was the year after he saw Cedric die at the hands of a wizard in the alleys of Hogsmeade. She helped through the mourning process and he was proud to help Neville get together with this brilliant witch.

"What brings you here?" Her breathy voice always seemed to hold a deeper meaning no matter the words she spoke.

"I’m helping Tom." Harry could never lie to Luna who had been his confidant for many years besides Tom.

"Why would Tom need venues?"

"I think he's going to ask someone to marry him soon." They walked through the stacks of catalogue until they came upon a table.

Luna waved him to sit down and explain. And that’s what Harry did. He poured out his heart to the platinum blonde who only sat there staring at him like he was an interesting magical creature. He had started on how he knew that it was a courting ring when she raised her hand to stop him.

"I am engaged to Neville, Harry." Harry felt the heat rise in his cheeks. Even if Neville wasn't big on tradition his grandmother was.

"Right. Sorry."

"Why don't you speak to Tom about this?" Harry pursed his lips. He was very much against revealing to Tom that he had been snooping through the laundry. Even though he was just trying to find the shirt he lent to Tom a week ago.

"I'd rather he tell me." Despite the jealous feelings he harbored over Tom's supposed crush, Harry also felt betrayed that he didn't talk to Harry about this matter. So the childish need to harbor anger over this slight in their friendship was strong.

Luna giggled and they continued talking only this time the conversation centered around Luna's planning and her upcoming wedding. Her and Neville were going to wait until Neville finished his Herbology mastery, which would take another two years. However, Luna didn't mind since the Quibbler had grown in number now that it reached countries outside of England. The Americas really enjoyed the newspaper and Luna was helping her father set up offices in those countries.

It was hours before the two parted ways. Luna leaving to meet Neville at the apparation point. Harry left the shop with his heart lighter and his mind determined. He was going to help Tom woo this witch if it was the last thing he did.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear was the muggle saying that Lily Potter always said. Harry found himself holding back laughter as he saw the familiar green robes leave the Ministry. Harry watched as he weaved through the post-work crowd. He felt a smile form on his face as he watched Tom get closer. He wondered why he was walking home instead of apparating. Harry ducked behind a couple walking spying on his flat mate. He was walking towards a café and Harry was never more glad to have the invisibility cloak than in that moment.

He pulled it on and began his journey of stalking his flat mate. Tom strode forward and Harry had to walk fast just to keep up with his long legs. Tom took the long way to Diagon Alley and when he arrived he went straight to the ice cream shoppe. Harry had to take a step back. Tom wasn't a fan of sweet things so why was he going there.

Harry's answer was soon revealed when Rigel Black stepped forward to greet Tom.

"How goes things?" Harry inched forward trying to keep his nosey self satisfied but not to be breathing down the two wizards necks.

"Not well. I can't seem to bring it up to him."

'Him?'

"Tom it's been weeks." Rigel chastised Tom. Harry was shocked. Tom abhorred when people looked down on him and he never did like discipline.

"I know. I just can't risk losing Harry." Tom's shoulders sagged and he looked much older than 22 years old in that moment. Harry was frozen to the spot. His blood was rushing through his ears and Harry had to take deep breathes in order to stop himself from fainting.

"You won't lose him."

"But I can't take that risk. I thought he found out last month but things have gone back to normal now."

'Were they talking about the engagement ring? Why would Tom think that him getting engaged would ruin our friendship?'

"You can't keep this from him forever. I'm amazed you've lasted this long."

Harry had to shift in order to avoid not getting hit by the other patrons of the shop. He missed a bit of conversation.

"I just love him so much." Tom whispered the confession and Harry was trying to figure out if they were still talking about him or Tom's mystery crush. Who was a wizard by the sound of it.

"Then just ask him. Before someone else does." So Tom's wizard was also being pursued by someone else. Harry racked his brain for who that could be. Most of Tom's acquaintances were either engaged or already married. The pureblood customs demanding that their children be engaged by their coming of age ceremony.

"I don't have to worry about that." Tom said so confidently that Harry almost felt sorry for the bastard that ended up with him. Tom had a streak of possessiveness that had only gotten worse with age.

"You sure? I heard my uncle talking about the Potter's putting together Harry's assets. Uncle Siri thinks that they're putting together a marriage contract." If Harry wasn't leaning against a pillar he was sure he would've fallen onto the ground.

Both him and Tom were thrown by the news. He hadn't heard of his parents doing such a thing. Especially about the assets. He knew that they were only accounted for when engagements were settled. Harry couldn't hear any more before he sprinted past the two needing answers. In his haste he bumped shoulders with someone but he paid it no mind as he got out of the ward's area.

Harry was on the street when he ripped off the cloak and apparated at the same time. Unbeknownst to him, Tom was shocked to see Harry suddenly appear on the not so crowded street. When someone invisible ran into his shoulder he was sure it was a pickpocket.

Harry landed in their backyard far from his aim of the front stairs but this would have to do. His shoulder but Harry ignored it. Adrenaline coursing through his veins and he threw open the back door. Luckily it was during the week so only his mom was home.

"Mom!" Harry's voice took on a screechy quality but he was livid. How dare they set up an engagement for him. They were against it when his grandparents tried to set his father up during his school years.

"Harry?" She appeared from the living room.

"How dare you!" Harry ran forward crowding her space. Her face was painted in worry and shock. She reached towards Harry arm but he jerked it away. His shoulder throbbed again this time a hint of pain followed.

"Harry?"

"You hypocrites! You talk about how you don't want to force us into the 'stuffy pureblood traditions' yet I hear you're setting up an engagement for me!" Harry tried to wave his arms to prove his point but he found that his left arm wasn't responding to him.

He glanced down at his arm and found his robes to be soaked with blood. The adrenaline left his system as quickly as it came.

"Harry. There is no engagement." She placed a hand on his face dragging his eyes away from his mistake. Both pain and relief flooded his system. His mind running in circles as his body started to shut down. He spared a glance at his shoulder once more and promptly fainted.

--------

Harry's mouth felt like it was filled with cotton when he emerged from the black. He opened his eyes to the plain ceiling of St. Mungo's. Harry scrunched his face wondering why he was at the hospital. The last thing he remembered was talking to Luna and he left there in perfect health. He sat up to find everything in working order. His left shoulder felt a little tight but other than that he had all of his limbs. He propped himself up to find that he was alone in the room.

'That’s weird.' Anytime he got even remotely injured during his time at Hogwarts had either one or both of his parents waiting by his bedside.

Harry got up from the bed and he was even more confused when he was still wearing his robes from earlier. He got to the door when he figured out why no one had come in since he awoke. He reached for the door knob only for his hand to pass through it. Harry whipped around to stare at the not so empty bed. His body was resting on the plain white sheets and Harry was glad to see his own chest rise and fall. Harry had always seen himself via mirror but it was truly disorienting to see himself how everyone else did.

He was in the thin hospital robes with his shoulder wrapped up in bandages. Harry touched his own shoulder only to find it free of any type of healing item. Harry was staring at his own body when the door opened. A multitude of voices flooded the room.

"We don't know why he won't wake up. We administered an Awakening a few hours ago." The mediwizard stepped through the doors first shortly followed by his parents. They looked worse for wear but the figure behind them looked ragged.

Tom was wearing his normal green robes but his skin had a sickly pallor to it. Harry's siblings weren't there so it must be the same day as his accident.

"We will check on him in a couple more hours but the splinching injury has been fully healed."

'Splinching? I haven't done that since I first started apparating.' Harry moved forward. His robes passing through the edge of the bed.

Tom moved to stand by Harry's head. His parents were a few feet away huddled together. His father was clinging to his mother and they stared blankly at the unmoving body. Tom placed a hand on Harry's cheek. Harry felt the warmth radiate against his skin and he touched his cheek.

"How did this happen?" Tom whispered pulling up a chair. It was quiet before his mother spoke. Her voice soft as if Harry were just sleeping.

"I'm not sure. He came flying through the house accusing us of setting up an engagement."

Memories came rushing back to him. He staggered as they assaulted him. Harry tried to catch himself on the bed but he fell right through. Once his spiritual body connected with his own he sunk in unable to pull himself free. The more he struggled the more his body started to move. Taking a leap Harry dove into his unmoving body hoping that it would do what he hoped.

Harry opened his eyes again to find Tom leaning over him but nothing had changed. He cursed knowing that it didn't work. Harry let himself feel the warmth from Tom's hand and tried to brush the hair out of Tom's face. Harry noticed that his form was transparent against the real form of Tom. His parents had shifted to the couch that rested against the back wall.

He sunk back into his body hoping that he could tell Tom how he felt. When Tom's hand moved to Harry's own, Harry sneaked a glance to the wizard.

However, this time was different. As soon as Harry opened his eyes the occupants of the room shifted. Harry scrunched his eyes at the blinding lights beaming down at him.

"Wha-" Speaking was difficult and Harry could hardly hear himself.

The hands encircling his own shifted to cradle his face before Tom's face was in front of his own. He couldn't resist asking the question that had been burning in his mind.

"Who is the ring for?"

"For someone so brilliant you are so dense."

Before Harry could ask what he meant by that the medi-wizard was stepping through the door.

--------

Once Harry was discharged from the hospital, his family hovered around him until he shooed them away. The doctor's still didn't know what caused the mini-coma but Harry just wanted to go home. It had been a long day and he had training the next day. When he expressed this to his father, he gave him the day off.

"But-" Tom cut of Harry's protest with a look. Harry was still being propped up and the only reason he was even walking was due to his help.

"Fine but I think I will be fine with my mother hen of a flatmate." Harry patted Tom on the arm. He hadn't left Harry's side and if Tom pressed Harry any closer they would be one person. His parents agreed on the chance that Harry would visit them tomorrow so they can talk about what caused him to splinch himself in the first place.

They walked the short distance to their flat since the medi-wizard recommended that Harry allow himself some time to recuperate. But, if Harry was being honest, apparating didn't make him scared. He would just have to be more careful from now on.

Once they crossed the threshold Harry made his way to the couch. He let go of Tom and used the things on the way to further his way to their very comfortable sofa. Harry crashed down on it. Tom wasn't far behind. Harry watched as Tom summoned a blanket from upstairs. Whoever Tom was going to propose to would be so lucky.

"What?" Tom froze and in doing so the blanket hit him in the face. Harry realized that he must've said that out loud and color drained from his face.

"I..uh..found the ring?"

"I figured you did." Tom sighed sitting down by Harry's feet.

"So who is it?"

"Who?"

"Quit being obtuse. The person you're thinking of proposing to."

"I'm not planning on proposing for a while."

"What? Why do you have the ring then?"

"I have the ring because I wanted to see it. Anyways I'd have to be dating someone to propose to them."

Tom lifted Harry's legs placing them on his lap. Harry snuggled further into the pillows on the couch. Glad to know that they can still have their small moments.

"And why aren't you? Dating them I mean."

"Because I'm afraid." The words were soft and Harry almost didn't catch them.

"Afraid of what? Them rejecting you?" Harry scoffed at the absurd notion. "Everyone at Hogwarts was vying for your attention. Hell, I'm sure you have people turning their heads at work now."

A small smile pulled at Tom's lips and Harry sat himself forward. His face serious.

"Plus they would be stupid to not love you." Harry trailed off as they stared at each other. Harry felt exposed and stripped down to nothing from Tom's stare. His dark eyes searching for something, an answer maybe.

Harry's breath hitched as Tom reached forward. It happened so fast that Harry hardly had any time to react. Tom's lips were pressed against his own. Needy but not pushing the boundaries. When Harry's eyes shuttered closed and he pressed into the kiss, Tom wrapped his arms around Harry pulling him closer. It was awkward with Harry's legs being in the way but Harry couldn't have thought of a better first kiss with Tom.

Tom pulled away and Harry had to stop himself from whining like a child. He pressed their foreheads together and a breathy laugh ghosted over Harry's lips.

"Was that okay?"

"More than okay."

#tomarry #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #room mates #magical #fanfiction #harry potter fanficition #one shot

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delicrieux · 6 years

Text

hate you, love you

PAIRING: draco malfoy x reader

summary: (name) and draco had been sworn enemies for years, but that really was just their strange way of confessing love for one another.

also, requested by @hufflepuff-chan: Can I request a Draco x hufflepuff reader scenario were the reader has hella guts. She hates him and the feelings are equal. Then they have a huge fight (please make it really angsty and sad) and then he crosses the line and the reader is dumbfounded and left empty. She stops attending their shared classes and doesn't eat in the great hall and isolates herself. And after some time they bump into each other as she heads to her common room and they fight once again and he grabs and kisses her. Extra points if its a heated kiss. Happy ending of course. Bless you

a/n : changed it a bit. ALSO THANK YOU MUCH TO MY WIFE @thehogwartsdormitories FOR THIS AESTHETIC (I LIVE) AND YOU BETTER CHECK HER OUT O R E L S E!!!

feedback is always appreciated xoxo

MASTERLIST.

I’m beginning to recognise that real happiness isn’t something large and looming on the horizon ahead but something small, numerous and already here. The smile of someone you love. A decent breakfast. The warm sunset. Your little everyday joys all lined up in a row.

That was your perspective, coloured in a rosy shade of blush and the friendly yellow uniform of your House. Hufflepuff has the reputation of being the House that accepts, loves, and cherishes everyone that gives them the time of they. Therefore, most assume that every single person in said House is naïve, lacks backbone, and is too idealistic. Too kind, the other Houses rave, you will only get hurt with that sort of mentality!...

Since when is being too kind a bad thing? Happiness needn’t be some grand gesture. Small things matter more. Happiness is giving, not receiving, not fighting. Happiness is peace, is what you think with a smile.

Of course, that beautiful mentality is promptly discarded when you meet a certain Slytherin boy that gets on your nerves more than anyone you have ever met.

You have no trouble dishing out what he rightfully deserves for being a prick. You don’t even try to understand him, unlike you do with others. You refuse to give him your time of day. And while yes, you are considered a nice person by some, you have guts and you are unafraid of confrontation like so many from your house.

Bickering is a constant sight between you and Draco Malfoy. Your friends have grown quite tired of it, really. There hadn’t been an instance in years where the two of you could sit in the same classroom in silence, without firing some sort of antagonistic remark at one another. You cannot recall how you came to hate him. Your first year at Hogwarts was relatively tame, and you hadn’t made your mortal enemy yet. Perhaps you had performed superb in charms, brewed a better potion, or flown more skilfully on a broom than he. Whatever it was, one day you awoke to a letter addressed to you. Curious and a bit frightened, you opened it to find only one sentence scribbled at a piece of parchment.

Get out of my school.

Is all it said, signed by Draco Malfoy himself with his awful eleven year old signature. You had found him after Herbology, putting away his books alone, and making sure his lackeys were away for the moment you walked up to him and hit him on the arm.

“Ow!” He had whined, sending you a glare, “The hell is your problem, (Lastname)?”

Your eyes had widened, “The hell is my—MY problem? You’re the one sending letters telling me to leave Hogwarts!” Noting your frustration, he had smirked.

“Yeah? Well it’s because you should. Face it, you’ll never achieve anything. Best quit while you still have some dignity left.”

That was the day a spiteful fire was born. There was nothing in this world that could make you like Draco Malfoy. This hate was rooted too deeply to simply be torn out.

Alas, years continued with the same model. He notices you walking in the hallways and comments on your lack of poise, whilst you flip him off. In class, students take bets who will attack the other first. It is almost a dance, sort of, a verbal battle that is both fiery and graceful at the same time. While you and he have exchanged numerous insults, neither of you have gone far enough to seriously hurt one another. You hadn’t said a word about his family’s Death Eater status, and in turn he not once mentioned your muggle birth, even if it was the first thing anyone would assume he would make fun of. You fought and teased, but with strange respect. Rumours started to float around that the two of you were secretly in love, merely hiding your feeling behind a charade of hatred. Your friends believed it and never failed to mention it to you. You had dismissed every single thing they dared to comment on.

That is why your heart nearly explodes from hurt when he calls you a ‘Mudblood’.

It had been late in the evening and he was acting odd, odder than his usual pretentious shenanigans. Being a Prefect, or his long lost soulmate as some whispered, you grew concerned when you couldn’t see his obnoxious face during dinner. In turn, too preoccupied with catching him wandering somewhere in the shadows of the Great Hall, you hadn’t touched your meal and left on an empty stomach as soon as you realised he was not coming. Your friends had called after you, but true to your character, when it came to Draco hardly anything else mattered.

The hallways were quiet and empty. Some portraits had already gone to bed, some chatted idly about the dreams they will soon have. You kept your eyes peeled on every moving object or a randomly passing student. You really had no clue where to look for him, or why you were doing so in the first place. His absence tugged on your heartstrings. As if your body has come to despise him so that he was fused with you, in a way. Tired, disappointed, and with an upcoming headache, you decided to head to the kitchens to grab a snack before sneaking into the common room.

Was it luck or something opposite of that, you had passed a classroom in the dungeons that had the door left ajar. You caught a glimpse of his shadowy face and abruptly stopped. It was instinct, really. You were hardly thinking what you were doing, and before long you were asking him, genuinely, your voice void of sarcasm or any ill intent, if he was alright. It scared him, your question. It made him pale, if that was even possible, and stiffen. Surprise shone in his features, but soon that morphed into unfiltered disgust.

“Get out of my sight you mudblood.”

But he does not look at you as he says this. It is a hiss directed at the cupboard with potion bottles, yet it pierces your heart all the same. It is your time to freeze, to lock your jaw and forget to breathe. Your whole train of thought is wiped clean, as if nothing had existed prior and nothing will exist after this moment. Then it all comes crashing down in the most painful way. What respect? What concern? What were you even thinking? He is nothing but a brat, an evil and vile Slytherin prick wanting nothing more but to belittle and hurt you.

You suddenly feel like crying. But you don’t allow yourself to appear so weak, so affected by his comment.

“…Forget I said anything.” You whisper, your voice hollow. With a quick step back you exit the classroom, your eyes never leaving his distraught form, before your fingers grasped the handle and shut the door harshly.

You didn’t have it in you to call him out anymore. Your resolve to destroy him wilted like a daisy seized by the cold wind. You avoided him all together, opting to spend your time in the Common Room or Library, catching up on studies and hanging out with people that did not care about your mudblood status. You rescheduled your classes so you would not have to face him. You pretended that, if you could delete him from the pretty picture of your life, this pain would go away.

It is a shame, really. You had always expected the two of you to end up being friends. Perhaps you bought into the gossip too much.

It is early morning when you run into him. It had been nearly two months since you had faced him properly, and you feel no less prepared or at ease. You gulp. He stares at you as if he had seen a ghost, though soon he looks away shamefully. Silence. Neither of you move from your respective places. He must have just left the Common Room…What a coincidence, so have you.

You press your books closer to your chest. The past you would have flung them at him, chased him off. The present you does not even have the strength to move. He really hurt you, he knows this. He is sorry, though he is unsure of how he should even approach you now. At first you were at even grounds, tied by hatred. Now the two of you are tied by hurt. He would gladly go back to you hating him than seeing you almost afraid of him.

“This probably means nothing to you, but…” He starts hesitantly, watching your expression morph with hostility, “I am sorry. For what I said. I crossed a line, and…” He is unsure how to finish, so he lets his words hang. His ego be damned. Even he can admit to a fault sometimes.

You shake your head, “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“But I do. Mean it. I do mean it.” Draco says, now more confident, “You don’t deserve to be called that. Not by me or anyone else.” Awkwardly, he runs his fingers through his hair, “To be honest, I…I’m not even sure why we fight all the time. And this year has been…a mess and I took it out on you.”

You give him a sad smile, “In another life we might’ve been friends.” You add quietly, “I accept your apology.” Maybe what the other Houses say is right, maybe being too kind is a bad things, “Now, if you’ll excuse me—“ You turn to walk away but he grabs your hand with a desperate ‘Wait!’. You try not to think about how big his hand is, completely engulfing yours. How warm it sis, too. Slowly, you turn to look at him.

“Can you give me a second chance?” He asks you, his eyes boring into your own. You feel heart rising to your cheeks. Confused and unsure how to process this, your brows knit together softly, “I think we can still be friends, and…” His eyes wander down to where your hands connect perfectly, “And…maybe…” Draco is having trouble wording what he wants to say, but you understand him, “Maybe—“

“Let’s start with just friends, alright?” You ask gently, a small smile tilting the corners of your lips. He nods, letting go of your hand but his fingers linger as you part.

“I don’t even deserve as much.” He says, more to himself than you. That all soon melts away, as he smirks and eyes you knowingly, in all his prick-ish glory, “Try not to run away from me anymore, (Lastname). I’ll see you at Charms.”

You can’t help but smile. Back to the good old days, is it?

“Can’t wait to knock your ego down a bunch. It had obviously grown with no one there to show you your place.” You bite back, this time with a beaming smile.

Your relationship had changed drastically from there on out. Your friends took a collective sigh of relief, as the two of you were back to your usual banter. His did, too. But they soon were surprised once more at the sight of you…chatting? Instead of screaming at each other the two of you now bickered in whispers. Instead of frowns and sneer, sneaky smiles and smirks replaced them. Instead of him sitting at the other side of the class, so he could always plainly see you and mock you, he now took a seat next to you and neither of you minded, nor felt the need to explain why.

Before long, one rosy evening at the astronomy tower he had kissed you, and you had kissed back.

Your mentality was right all along. Happiness is the little things. Happiness is his dorky laugh. Happiness is his strange sense of humour. Happiness was there all along, but you never knew. Well, now you do. And you relish in this happiness as you hold his hand and wait for the upcoming summer.

(IN BOLD ARE THOSE I COULDN’T TAG)

forever tags: @scarletraine- @brahwhytho- @smilesfromabove- @pharaohkiller - @victoriaelvendorkweasley-@onehellofdevilotaku- @eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy- @phillipas00- @xxcrowfeatherxx- @cupcakestyleshood- @invisibilityrocks- @nephalem67 - @chwechwechwe - @porpentyna - @lesbianheartbreaker - @banjosanjo - @madswheelers - @sombodymaybeawatson - @disneyfanatic77 - @superanonymousreader - @aliypop

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croatian-magician · 6 years

Text

The magician and the Welsh dragon (part 6)

Pairing: Baleric

Summary: Leaving the safety of the city to collect herbs for his potions after the guards spotted a dragon nearby certainly wasn’t Luka’s most clever idea.

Or maybe it was?

Wordcount: 4731

Luka’s whole body hurt. He was worn out by weeks of travel and the cold was biting at his skin, making him shiver. His once fancy magician clothes were only rags now, his hat barely standing on top of his head. In the last city he went through, people had mistaken him for a beggar, sending weird looks at him. It didn’t matter to him, though. Nothing in the world mattered anymore, apart from the small, green string attached to his finger.

Sometimes he would jerk awake at night, sweat running down his back, convinced that the string had disappeared, that he now had no possibility to find Gareth again. Those nightmares plagued him relentlessly, to the point where he feared closing his eyes in fear the small link wouldn’t be here when he would wake up. He knew he could trust in Ivan’s magic, but this visceral terror haunting him wasn’t rational.

During his trip, Luka lost weight and strength, he could feel it in his bones protesting as he just kept on climbing the mountain, ignoring the harsh wind slapping at his face and tangling his hair. He would find Gareth, even if it was just to pass out of exhaustion in his arms. At the beginning of his travel, he spent whole days thinking about what he would tell Gareth once they were reunited, how he would convince him to come back home. Now, these considerations had left his mind a long time ago. All he wanted was to run into Gareth’s strong arms, to feel his warm embrace and to forget about all the pain and suffering he had been through those last weeks.

His heart missed a beat when he realized the string was leading him towards a cave. He tried to keep his hopes down. Maybe it only lead to some underground tunnels and to an even more difficult part of his travel. But somewhere deep inside, he felt that Gareth was here, close to him, and it gave him enough energy to walk all the way to the grotto.

It was warm inside, way warmer than it ought to be. That was the very first thing Luka noticed, before he spotted a fire burning in a corner of the cave. So someone had been here recently. Maybe Gareth. Please, let it be Gareth, he silently prayed.

On another day, he would have used one of his spells to make sure the cave was devoid of any danger, but not today. Using any magic right now would make him faint for sure, and so he could only count on his regular strength.

He stopped in his tracks when he noticed small, shiny objects covering the floor of the grotto. He knelt to inspect it and once more, a wave of warmth and hope crashed on him. Those were scales, black scales, just like Gareth’s had been.

When he studied magic a lifetime ago, Luka learned that dragons tended to lose them when they were in a situation of stress or when they lost their mate. Magicians would spot them and collect the scales while the dragons were away to use it for the preparation of rare potions.

This discovery convinced Luka that he was at the right place. Of course Gareth had to be feeling distressed and heartbroken, which explained the presence of all those scales. Another reason for Luka to hurry and find him.

The cave was silent though, apart from the crackling fire. Luka kept exploring it, hoping he would find his husband soon. Then they would travel all the way back to Ivan’s house, take their children with them and go back home. Luka couldn’t picture this encounter ending in any other way. He didn’t have enough strength left for another disappointment.

At first, he didn’t notice the hiss. It was barely audible, nothing more than a background sound. But as he went on, it suddenly became overwhelming and he stopped walking, trying his best to stay still, his survival instinct suddenly kicking back in.

Luka didn’t spend much time with Gareth while he was under his dragon form, sure, but he was convinced of one thing: his lover couldn’t produce that kind of noise. This meant another creature was here in the cave with Luka. If he was to believe the noise slowly getting close to him, something big.

The magician reached for his daggers, but decided to take only one out. He wanted to keep one of his hands free to grab a potion if needed. He had used all the invisibility ones days ago, but he was no stranger to brewing poison, even if it wasn’t his favorite method at dealing with things.

When the monster appeared in front of him, Luka immediately knew that his dagger would be useless against it. It looked like a mix between a dragon and a snake, green, probably venomous liquid falling from its long fangs. Its scales were pale, almost white, but it was smaller than regular dragons.

Still big enough to swallow Luka whole in one bite, though.

The magician tried to think of a strategy as the reptile slithered on the floor, examining him with yellow eyes. With just one glimpse, Luka could tell he wouldn’t be able to defeat the beast by taking it by surprise. He had the feeling it could move fast, horribly fast. His only hope was to trap the gigantic reptile, by making it swallow one of its potion. So far, he had no idea of how to manage that.

Also, a crippling fear dug its way through his heart, one that he didn’t want to listen to. If such a fearful monster lived in this cave, where was Gareth? Was he alright? Was he safe? Or did the string attached to Luka’s fingers only lead to a pile of bones?

These last few days, Luka had believed himself unable to shed any more tears. He was proven wrong as his cheeks started getting wet at the thought of never seeing his husband again. If Gareth died here in his cave, all alone, thinking he was nothing more than a monster, Luka would never forgive himself.

The anger boiling through his veins blinded him, to the point where he lost all common sense. Getting out alive of this fight didn’t matter so much, now. The only important thing was to avenge Gareth from this beast, even if it was the last thing Luka did in his life.

He quickly thought of his children, of how they would miss him. But if Gareth… If he was… Dead… Then maybe it was better for the kids that Luka wouldn’t come back. Without Gareth, the magician was a broken man, barely able to care for himself, yet alone for children. Ivan and Lionel would watch over them and they would be happy, just without him…

Luka choked on a sob and the monster gave him a weird look, before getting even closer to him, more threatening than ever. The magician knew how these beasts thought. They were no different to animals and would attack their preys once they showed some weakness. Luka crying over his old life definitely filled those criteria.

He let go of his dagger and quickly rummaged in his cloak for that poison vial. The reptile saw its chance and rushed towards him, striking as fast as lightning. Luka barely had time to react, but he managed to open the potion, a sour scent coming out of him. Maybe the reptile would kill him before the poison took effect, maybe not, but anyway it wouldn’t live to see another day.

He was ready for the monster to snatch him in its jaw, but at the last moment, a shout resonated through the cave.

“Alba! No! Don’t hurt him! He isn’t a threat to us!”

The snake-like monster immediately stopped in its track, confused, its fangs mere inches away from Luka’s body. The small magician almost had a heart attack, but not because of the gigantic reptile who almost attacked him.

He recognized that voice.

It was Gareth’s.

New tears filled his eyes as he frantically looked around, in hope to take a glimpse at his lover. However, the monster still blocked his view with its massive body. Not for long though, because the beast soon started to shrink, to the point where it became even smaller than Luka himself. The scales disappeared, turning into skin and hair. The magician blinked in surprise, not expecting a little girl to appear where the monster had stood just a minute ago. She ran away from him and Luka let the poison vial fall to the floor where it broke, the potion lost forever.

The child finally stopped running, hiding behind two strong legs. Gareth’s legs.

Luka’s breath got stuck in his throat as he finally saw him. His lover, his husband, the father of his children, the only man he wanted in his life. He looked a bit different from what Luka was used to. His hair was even longer than when he had left and it wasn’t tied anymore. The stubble on his cheeks was more pronounced. He had dark circles under his eyes and sunken cheeks. Also, to Luka’s surprise, his scales, horns and wings were still here, contrary to what he had been expecting.

None of this mattered to him, though. Gareth, his Gareth was here, and it was all that mattered.

“Luka. You shouldn’t have come h…”

The magician didn’t even listen to his words. He rushed into Gareth’s arms, crashing their lips together, tears running down his face. He had found him. After weeks of despairing and struggling, he had finally found him. Now, he wasn’t letting Gareth go anywhere without him.

His husband wasn’t responding to the kiss and he should have been worried about that, but for now Luka was too blinded by the joy of finally being reunited with him. He ran his hands all over his cheeks, his hair, his arms, his back, even his wings, everything to make sure that Gareth was here and to remind himself of how his skin felt under his hands.

Gareth looked down at him, hesitating, but after a while he gave up and just wrapped his arms around Luka’s small frame, keeping him close. The magician started sobbing on his shoulder, letting loose all the tension from the last few weeks. Timidly, Gareth ran a clawed hand through his hair, careful not to hurt him. Luka couldn’t say a word, couldn’t let go, too afraid that this was just a dream, that he would wake up and that Gareth would be gone.

His husband waited for a while, his big body warming Luka’s small, cold one. When the magician opened his eyes again, the first thing he noticed was the green string connecting him to Gareth and he felt like crying once more. His lover was here, he was unscathed and life was worth living again.

However, Gareth started to gently push him away, to Luka’s great confusion. He didn’t want this, he wanted to stay near him, to be protected by Gareth’s strong arms forever, he wanted…

“I’m sorry, Luka, but we can’t do that. You… You shouldn’t have come here.”

Luka could hear the sadness in Gareth’s voice, just like he could see it in his blue eyes. The moment he was separated from his lover, that terrible cold invaded him again, spreading all the way to his bones.

“Are you kidding me? Of course I had to come here! I need you, Gareth!”

“No, you don’t. You and the kids, you’re better off without me. I knew it would be hard for you to realize it at first, but…”

Luka didn’t think his next move through. He slapped Gareth across the face, hard, tears of pent up frustration falling from his eyes. He was shaking all over and he was struggling to breathe, as if his body was too small to contain all the emotions bundled in it.

“Stop lying! Just stop a second and take a look at me! Do I look alright? Do I look better off without you? You made love to me, you made me believe you cared about me, that you would always be there for me, but then you left like a thief, abandoning me all alone with the kids to attend to. You can say that you were scared, that you didn’t know how to deal with your transformation, but don’t tell me you did this for me and the kids because that’s not true… That’s not true…”

Luka’s voice broke and he started sobbing. Finding Gareth had been the only thing helping him hold on these last few days, and at his rejection, his whole body started rebelling against him. He was suddenly more aware of his aching muscles and he let himself fall to the floor, hiding his face behind his knees. He needed Gareth to stay with him, or he would never have enough strength to go back home.

The little girl hiding behind Gareth gave Luka a weird look, clearly not understanding what was going on. His husband whispered something in the child’s ear and she nodded before leaving to the other side of the cave. Then he sat next to Luka, putting a hand on his back, his clear blue eyes filled with worry.

“Listen, Lukita, I love you. I love you with all my heart and you know it. That’s why I can’t come back to the city. I’m still half-dragon, which means your first assumptions about my transformation were wrong. Also, I have Alba to take care of, now.”

“The child?” Luka sniffled.

“Yes. She’s a shape-shifter. Her village chase her away when they discovered her power and she lived here all alone before I found her. Now she likes to take a dragon appearance because of me. She’s the sweetest being on this earth and I couldn’t abandon her.”

“Like you abandoned your other children, you mean?” Luka spat back, bitter.

He didn’t want to hurt Gareth, he only wanted for the other man to hug him and tell him he would never leave again, but he was tired, so tired and he couldn’t contain the anger and the pain filling his chest anymore. Not when he felt robbed of everything he loved.

Gareth tried to put a hand on his cheek, willing to make Luka realize the truth, to make him understand that coming back to the city with him would be too dangerous for both of them, but the magician slapped his hand away. He withdrew a little more on himself, more miserable than ever. Gareth’s eyes grew wide as he suddenly acknowledged how fragile his strong, fierce magician had become in his absence. He hated it, hated to know that he was responsible for this.

“Luka…”

“No, stop! I should have known you didn’t care about us when you left. Gods, I was so stupid. I… I wish I never met you!”

Gareth removed his hand, as if the words had burnt him. Luka got up on shaky legs, focusing only on his anger and resentment, letting it fuel him back to life. It was the only way he found not to succumb to the atrocious pain devouring his heart.

“Please tell me you don’t mean that. Luka, please…”

“Hell yes, I do! If I never met you, then you wouldn’t have ruined my life! At first I believed you were kind and considerate, but now I understand that you only care about yourself! I never should have broken that curse, I should have let you stay a fucking dragon, then I wouldn’t be hurting so much!”

Gareth stayed silent at first, not believing in what he had just heard. It didn’t take more than a second for Luka himself to be shocked by his own words. He didn’t mean to be so cruel, he was just lost and didn’t know how to deal with the situation. He loved Gareth, loved him with all his heart and he only wanted him back.

“Gareth, I…”

“Get out.”

“Please, you know I didn’t really want to say that, I know how much you suffered back then, I would never…”

“I said get out!”

Gareth caught him by the wrist and dragged him towards the entrance of the cave. Luka tried to resist him, but his dragon appearance gave Gareth more strength than ever, strength he once upon a time used to carry Luka’s in his arms. He threw him outside, his reptilian eyes shining with rage.

“Gareth, please…”

“No, we’re done with this conversation, Luka. Don’t you ever dare come back here.”

“You don’t understand, I love you! I didn’t want to…”

“Shut up, I’ve heard enough. Thanks for ruining the memory I had of you.”

Luka’s anger was gone as fast as it had come. Now, there was nothing left but regret and emptiness as he reflected upon how stupid he had been. He hated himself, but it was too late now, he had ruined his last chance at getting his lover back. The green string attached to his finger still lead to Gareth, but it didn’t mean anything now, because Gareth didn’t want him anymore.

He wanted to protest, to prove his lover that he was wrong, that he still loved him, that he had just been incredibly stupid by yelling at him, but his mouth was dry and no words would come out. Maybe there was no way out. Maybe Gareth and him just weren’t meant to be.

“I’m sorry.” He simply whispered, so quietly that he wasn’t even sure Gareth heard him.

First, he would have to climb down the mountain. One step after another. It was the only thing he could think of without bursting into tears. Thinking of the past hurt. Thinking of his future without Gareth was agony. Focusing on walking, one feet after the other, that was safer.

Or it would have been if his body hadn’t been so weakened by weeks of privation. He stumbled on the snow and lost his balance, falling face first. The cold spread to his cheeks, his ears, his lips, his nose, every part of his body that wasn’t covered by clothes. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t and his body just kept sliding down, faster and faster and…

He was falling, he suddenly realized. Down the mountain’s cliff. To his death. There was no chance he would survive the fall.

He didn’t really have the time or the energy to be frightened. He was only overwhelmed with regret at knowing that hurting Gareth would be his last action on this earth.

However, the pain didn’t come from where he expected it. He cried out as something sharp dug into his shoulders, snatching him away from the claws of death. Gareth. It had to be Gareth. Gareth just saved him.

However, when his savior gently put him back on the snow, he was proven wrong because Gareth was still standing there, his eyes frozen in horror. He rushed towards Luka, and this time he was the one joining their lips together in a desperate kiss. His hands were clenched on Luka’s clothes and he was crying too.

“Luka! Please tell me you’re alright! I’m sorry, I never should have told you to leave, this is all my fault! Please tell me you’ll be fine!”

“It’s alright, Gareth, I’m fine! But if you’re here, who…”

His husband didn’t have to answer for the magician to have his answer. A few feet away, Alba was standing in the snow, her hands covered into blood, Luka’s blood from where her talons had pierced into his shoulders to save his life. It hurt and he was still bleeding, he realized, but he would survive.

“Thank you.” He whispered to the child.

The girl nodded back in acknowledgment, but she didn’t say anything.

“She still has difficulties talking, since she stayed away from humans for so long. We’re working on that.” Gareth softly explained, all while running his hand through Luka’s hair.

All his emotions, his injury, his fear of losing Gareth once and for all, that was too much for Luka. No matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes open, he soon failed and fainted straight into his husband arms.

For the first time in forever, Luka’s sleep wasn’t plagued by nightmares. He woke up feeling rested, shirtless and laying in front of a warm fire, buried in fluffy and comfortable covers. When he turned his head, he noticed that his shoulders were bandaged, but he couldn’t remember how he hurt himself. This was all weird. He was in some sort of cave, all alone, but he had no memory of coming here before. One moment he was walking down the road leading to a mountain and then, he was here.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned, surprised to feel better. The lingering sadness was still here, in his heart, but it was somehow muffled, as if something was keeping him at bay. Strange.

Some clothes were waiting for him next to the fire and he quickly put them on, his fingers stopping on a letter left among the garments. He quickly opened it and read it in one go. Supposedly, some merchant had found him passed out near the road and had saved him from wild beasts. The man had healed him and left those clothes for him, but couldn’t wait for Luka to wake up because he had other businesses he needed to attend to.

It could be true. After all, he had kept on pushing past his limits these last few days. However, his instincts screamed that something here was wrong, very wrong. He was trying to figure out what it was when the green string on his finger tingled his skin a little. Luka was suddenly reminded of the objective of his quest. Gareth. He needed to find him.

The string was supposed to lead him to Gareth, and yet it seemed to go deeper into the cave. Now this was getting weirder and weirder. Since Luka had no other clue as to how to find him anyway, he decided to take a look deeper into the grotto, just in case, leaving his belongings near the fire.

Strangely, the string kept changing directions, but after a while it started pointing towards the roof of the cave. Something nudged at the back of Luka’s mind and he closed his eyes, trying his best to stay concentrated. He was missing something here, he could tell.

Then he heard it and he understood. The sound of winds flapping. Gareth was here and the moment he realized that, it broke some kind of seal in his mind and a flood of memory came rushing back. All of a sudden, he remembered everything, Alba, his fight with Gareth, his fall, fainting while Gareth held him close to his heart…

“Gareth Frank Bale, you’d better come down here this instant! I can’t believe you tried to use one of my own amnesia potions against me!”

It didn’t take long before his husband landed down in front of him, looking all sheepish.

“How did you guess that I was still here?”

Instead of answering straight away, Luka walked to Gareth and intertwined their hands together. The green string uniting them shone even stronger and his husband was finally able to see it too.

“Because of this. No matter where you try to run to, I will find you again. Also, I used a lot of those amnesia potions during my travel so I wouldn’t get into any trouble. The ones I kept in my cloak were only brewed a few days ago, and clearly I wasn’t at my best then so the enchantment was easy to break. Now would you please tell me why you considered making me forget about finding you would be a good idea?”

“Because like that, you could go back home without being hurt.” Gareth whispered back.

“Do you really think I would ever choose to go back home without you? So okay, maybe I was wrong about your curse, and you’re still a half-dragon, I get it. But one of my friends is a sorcerer, he knows more about those kind of enchantments than I. He lives in a secluded house in the woods, in blaugrana land. We could go to him, and maybe he could make sure that you and Alba could fit into society. Gareth, please, I want to stay with you…”

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me about that guy the day I turned into… this!”

Gareth pointed at his scales, his wings and his horns, incomprehension written all over his face. Luka put his hands on his hips, done with everything.

“Are you being real here? Of course I was planning to tell you, but you tricked me into sex before I could and then you ran to the other side of the kingdom without any warning, you big, stupid, idiot dragon!”

Somewhere in the middle of his rant, Luka started crying and hitting Gareth’s chest with weak fists. His lover had promised himself that he would stay strong, that he wouldn’t let Luka sway him, but his resolution was already cracking at the edges. He couldn’t be blind anymore and pretend he was actually helping Luka, not when he could see how this whole situation was destroying his small magician.

“Alright, me and Alba can try and meet your sorcerer friend. But if it doesn’t work, I’m coming back here. I can’t be a threat to the whole city.”

“Wait, did I hear you well? Are you really willing to try that?”

“Yes, that’s what I said. But don’t raise your hopes too much, if it doesn’t w…”

Luka didn’t let him finish. He kissed him desperately, bringing Gareth’s hands to his hips so he could keep him close to his body.

“Where is Alba?” He asked when they parted.

Gareth raised an eyebrow, confused by that question.

“Sleeping, further in the cave. She needed some rest, what happened yesterday was emotionally exhausting for us all but why…”

“Good, then I can do this.” Luka smiled.

He kissed Gareth again, more passionately, before dragging him in front of the rustic fireplace made by the half-dragon. He laid him down on the covers before straddling his hips, manhandling Gareth so his hands would fall on Luka’s ass this time. His husband looked puzzled but he didn’t remove them, though.

“Luka, can I know what you are doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You left without a word and since then, I spent every waking seconds of my days looking for you. Obviously, I didn’t have much time to take care of my own needs. So now, you’d better make up for it, you idiot dragon.”

Gareth couldn’t help but chuckle at that, but it soon turned into a groan as Luka moved against him, fire in his eyes. It had been too long since they were last together. Way too long. Gareth didn’t waste any more time and hurried to take Luka’s shirt off, eager to feel his skin against his. However, he froze when his fingers caressed his back and felt the scars that were still there from their last lovemaking session.

“Luka… Why didn’t you heal yourself?” He whispered, shock in his eyes.

“What do you think? It was the only thing I had left of you. You took everything else, all your clothes, your belongings… I couldn’t even wear one of your shirts to pretend you weren’t that far… All you left was that letter, but it had to be destroyed for the localization spell…”

New tears started to gather in Luka’s eyes, but this time, Gareth kissed them away. And as he gently covered the magician’s body in caresses, he already knew that his previous words were nothing but lies. Even if that sorcerer failed to make him human again, he wouldn’t be able to leave Luka. Not again. He needed his handsome, wonderful magician in his life.

And since he couldn’t put all that into words, he proceeded to worship Luka’s body in all possible ways so that he would feel loved and never, never cry because of Gareth again.

Taglist: @esparafuso @smolmandzo @puolendollarinonni @arduango @sejan-is-love @ante-ray-bitch @winters-chiid @pachua @crazy-for-lovren @ppumpkines

#luka modric #gareth bale #baleric #fantasy au #football slash #my writing #fic

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