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#Hogwarts fanfic
hollowwrites · 3 months
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The Room of Reconciliation
Ominis x MC
Summary - Tensions had been high between the Slytherin Trio shortly after the Undercroft Catastrophe.
Warnings - Angst into Comfort, Evelyn mom mentioned right at the beginning (Fluff if you’re sick of it but I’m continuing to add my boi into every square inch of that game (someone mentioned this to me ages ago I’m so sorry I lost who it was))
Word Count - 2928
~
She’d overreacted. She knew that.
Crying because a boy had shouted at her. Grow Up, Evelyn.
Make your mother proud.
Of course, that was the reason she was in such a foul mood that day in the first place. And why she was so easily brought to tears.
The day Ominis had shouted at her for entering the Undercroft was her mother’s birthday. A sensitive day that had started off terribly in it own right.
She’d fell up the stairs leading out of the Common Room. Missed Breakfast. Gotten into trouble because of Garreth, again. And spent most of her day without her wand after forgetting it in her bedside table. Getting used to carrying the thing around hadn’t quite become second nature yet.
So when Sebastian approached her in the late afternoon, a cheeky smile and a twinkle in his eye, she didn’t think twice to follow him. And when he mentioned, repeatedly, that it was Ominis’ place, something Ominis had shown him…it hadn’t occurred to her to refuse, and perhaps ask Ominis for his permission beforehand.
She simply followed.
And she had a blast.
Sebastian was right, there was something about that spell that was addictive. Cathartic.
It wasn’t until Ominis’ sharp authoritative tone cut through her reverie that she snapped. And the whole day just became too much.
And she hadn’t spoken to him since.
It had been a week.
Pretty impressive considering they shared a Common Room, multiple classes and a best friend.
It wasn’t like she actively ignored him. More that she felt an intense guilt every time she looked at him. Everytime his milky eyes settled over her, she just saw…betrayal.
Especially with Professor Weasley showing her the Room of Requirement the very next day. She didn’t even need the Undercroft. She hadn’t used it once. Whether that made her presence there in the first place any better she didn’t know.
But spending no time in the Undercroft, hours holed away in Room of Requirement and daily task and chores occupying any time available after that, Evelyn had become…lonely.
Sebastian had become a little…manic. Shortly after the Undercroft incident, Sebastian invited Evelyn to visit his family. Whether it was to cheer Anne up by meeting someone new, or cheer Evelyn up by taking her mind off Ominis, she wasn’t sure.
Either way it hadn’t worked.
Sebastian’s home life just made her feel…empty. The confrontation with Solomon had left her both angry and yet incredibly sad. Anne was stuck amongst this in immense pain. Sebastian felt helpless and Solomon was clearly an unfit guardian for two teenagers he neither wanted nor seemingly cared about.
She couldn’t exactly blame Sebastian for his behaviour. But she had to admit, the far off unfocused gaze and sudden downturn of his lips was jarring. Just the week before, he asked her to learn unsanctioned spells and blast braziers until they were both rosy cheeked and giggling.
Now she could barely get a chuckle out of him.
In the space of a week, she’d lost her closest friends in this new mysterious world. If she didn’t have Imelda and her constant abrasive form of affection, Evelyn very well may have lost it. As it stood she just became a husk, trudging from class to class, trail to trail, chore to chore. Barely taking in her environment as she did.
Which explains how she come crashing into Ominis after leaving the Charms Classroom.
Because he had become the same.
His wand even alerted him to the presence coming from the classroom. It notified him of their trajectory all the way until it came fumbling into him.
He just ignored it.
Because he didn’t care.
Anne was gone, he was losing Sebastian and he’d pushed Evelyn away. He, too, was a husk.
“Watch where you’re-” Ominis snapped, his wand falling to the floor with a clatter. His instant aggression and plastered on sneer faltered when he heard the tiny exhale forced from her chest and the unmistakable scent of Roses. “…Evelyn”
“…Ominis…” she breathed. A moment of stunned silence fell over them before she blinked herself back to reality. His wand rolled towards her, bumping against her shoe as she knelt to retrieve it.
Surely it was the least she could do.
She extended her hands towards him, his wand still blinking somehow as Ominis reached to take it back.
“Thank you…” he said softly, his eyes holding a deep sadness behind them and wondered why. But, as he so aptly pointed out, they were friends, so she didn’t have the right to ask what was wrong
“You’re Welcome…” She replied sheepishly with an equally pained expression.
An awkward, heart-achingly long silence stretched before them as she stared at the ground. His feet were a much safer location to stare than the piercing judgemental wells of his eyes. Neither made any move to leave, though neither said anything either. Both of them choosing to wallow in this sickening pit of longing and despair.
No sense in attempting to hide away from the negativity. It only bled into their everyday life, both becoming a shell of their former selves. Though many hadn’t seen this side of Evelyn, the cold hard faced figure. They’d only seen her chipper almost gleeful persona as she flitted around. And why wouldn’t she be happy? She’d discovered magic and all the wonders that that held. She’d made friends she didn’t even know existed a few months ago.
And yet…
With this bump in the road, everything she had pushed deep down came bubbling to the surface like one of Garreth’s failed concoctions.
Mr Osrics death, Ranrok, Rookwood, Goblin Rebellions, Annes Curse…
Now she wires them on her sleeve, a near constant frown etched into her features.
Though Ominis’ was a regular occurrence. Whether it was Sebastian winding him up or his family making themselves known, he’d earned a reputation for being stoic and unfeeling.
In actuality, Ominis felt things probably more than most. He was just better at hiding it.
They both were…
The sounds of Evelyn running and crying from him had eaten away at him over the last week. And he found himself now in an uncomfortable position of admitting fault and asking for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry” They said in unison, causing them both to laugh softly and the tension to shatter into a thousand glorious little pieces.
“Please…allow me to go first” Ominis said with a gentle smile and hands raised in surrender. He mulled the words over in his mind before he spoke. “…You shouldn’t have to apologise. At all. It was Sebastian I was angry at and you, unfortunately, just happened to be in my line of sight…” he chuckled softly, almost to himself “…so to speak”
“But…”
“No. I shan’t hear it. I said-” a deep regretful sigh left his chest “…I said some, frankly, horrible things to you. And my pride got in the way of apologising”
His posture was always bad. But there was something about the slouch of his shoulder, the hunch of his back, that looked like he was trying to shrink away from everything. Like he was readying for her to reject him entirely.
“Still though…That place was special to you and now it’s…less so. Because of me…” the mournful tone of her voice was immediately recognisable to Ominis.
Though he wasn’t certain of what she looked like, he had a rough idea from what Sebastian had told him and what was silhouetted from his wand. He could imagine her upturned brows, the sad tug of her lips. Then he remembered her little sobs as she ran from the Undercroft and he could almost see the tears breaching her lashes.
“Nonsense…” he whispered, tormented by his own mental image of her “…it’s not any less special because you know of it. In fact…”
Careful, now
“I was planning on showing you the Undercroft myself. I was simply…frustrated Sebastian got there before me” the lopsided way he smiled was endearing and she found herself smiling dreamily up at him, despite his inability to actually see it.
“Really?”
“Yes. I wanted to show you because you’re my friend, not just Sebastians” As he took back the words he cut her so deeply with before, he felt the sting of them on his tongue.
“I must say…that is a relief to hear. I was afraid I’d…never mind. I’m just sorry any of this happened” she said quickly, hoping to get the words out before he cut her off, explaining that she needn’t apologise.
“I’m sorry I spoke to you in the manner I did. It was rude and childish. And I certainly should’ve have threatened you with expulsion…” Ominis shook his head as though he was retroactively disappointed in his own actions.
“No, it’s fine. I understand where you were coming from. I’m-“
“If you apologise again I will speak to Professor Black about having you removed from the premises…” his lopsided smile morphed to a smirk, pulled wide across his cheeks. He chuckled when he heard her close her mouth, the distinct little huff she exhaled from her nose clear to him as she pouted.
She often did this. A little quirk he’d known many people do when they showed dissatisfaction but hers was…unique. The huff sounded almost like a laugh, a humourless and pouty thing that bought endless joy when he teased her.
“How about you stop apologising and we try to move on? If you would like to, of course” He offered a hand outstretched to her. He wasn’t even really sure why. Just that a part of him wanted to feel her again, and this was the most natural way he could think of.
That’s when her cool fingertips grazed across his palm and shook his hand in the daintiest of hand shakes he had ever experienced.
Difficult to imagine this was the same girl who had effortlessly defended Hogsmeade against a troll. And a myriad of other pointless and dangerous tasks appointed to her.
“I’d like that…” her gentle pleasing tone sang out from below him.
The moment she agreed, his whole demeanour shifted. He stood a little straighter, shoulders more square and yet somehow he looked more…relaxed.
“I’d like that too” he said more relived than she thought he would be.
“I do have a way to make it up to you though” she offered as her finger slipped from his grasp, moving over to weave her fingers amongst his. She tugged on his hand but he remained stationary. His fingers did indeed weave with hers but he stood steadfast as a curious smile tugged at his lips.
“You don’t have to make anything up to me” he borderline whispered. His voice was always soft but this was new. Gentle in a way he’d never shown previously.
“Please? It would make me feel better besides…it offers you an avenue away from Sebastian”
Upon hearing those words Ominis’ brow raised with boyish curiosity.
He loved Sebastian, he really did…
But
The near constant questioning of his families knick knacks, hidden knowledge and…gods he wished he’d never mentioned that damned Scriptorium. Just the mere utterance of Salazar Slytherin had Sebastian foaming at the mouth and every single conversation thereafter had been consumed by it. No longer did they indulge in casual chatter. No more quidditch theories. No more fiction recommendations. No more Sebastian.
And with sharing a dorm, the Undercroft and most classes…Ominis had been left with little peace.
“Oh? I suppose I can hear you out…” Ominis asked with just the slightest edge of guilt. “…How were you planning on making this up to me?”
Evelyn grinned upon seeing the usual teasing smirk pull across his lips.
“It’s easier if I show you…” she said tugging on his arm playfully once again, only this time…he relented, taking a few steps forward with a roll of his eyes.
“Lead the way…”
~
Thankfully, they stumbled into each other not far from their destination. Though she did have to convince him she wasn’t leading him to his death and planned on pushing him off the Astrology Tower. He laughed softly at her faux outrage, offering her arm to guide him up the few stairs leading towards that infamous ogre tapestry.
They stood for a moment in awkward silence.
Not because it was awkward between them, but because the door to the Room of Requirement did not show itself. She worried for a moment that the sentient room knew she was trying to show someone and it refused or that perhaps their needs were different and it didn’t know how to differentiate between the two.
“It’s here…” she muttered desperately, releasing his arm and beginning to pace up and down the little empty hallway.
The sounds of a rather lively Astrology class rang down the wooden staircase ahead of them and Ominis shook his head with a small laugh.
He had a near exact copy of Hogwarts’ complicated and winding hallways in his mind. There was nothing here. Just an old dusty tapestry and the Astrology Tower.
The smell of musk and the distant sounds of that rambunctious class of third years was evidence of that. Until…
A slight rubble and crackle of stone turned his attention toward the blank wall ahead of them. He placed his hand against the stone, cautiously. The grinding of stone against stone didn’t sound the safest and yet it moved harmlessly under his palm, twisting and transfiguring to a warm wood and cool metal.
Of course
“You found the Room of Requirement?” Ominis grinned, turning his head towards the buzzing and ecstatic Evelyn behind him.
“Found is a strong word…” she said, the joy in her voice unmistakeable “…Professor Weasley instructed me to look here and it presented itself to me”
She took his hand, the one not pressed curiously to the wall and gently guided him inside the Room.
Ominis felt a strange shift in the atmosphere as he stepped past the threshold. Neither out in the open, nor indoors. The air felt…artificial. Stagnant. Generated in some way. Not entirely unpleasant.
A welcoming warmth wrapped around him as Evelyn brought him into a larger room. Not huge. Roughly toll the same size of the dorms but all for her. For them.
She bought him around the Room, narrating along as she did.
“There’s a fireplace and settees. Bookcases. This here leads to where I’ve been practising spells and potions and…well…everything. But this…”
She gently turned him and guided him to another room. Smaller and cooler.
“…I left this for you.”
Ominis stepped away from her and into ‘His’ room. His wand alerted him to the snug way the walls tapered in around them, the narrow walkway around a huge plush bed that took up almost the entire room.
He had been struggling to sleep…
“I found it shortly after Sebastian showed me the Undercroft. I felt so guilty, I’ve been coming here instead. Only I know about it…in this form at least”
“It’s perfect…” Ominis finally spoke, running his hand along the bed runner with a gentle smile and a voice filled with gratitude and relief.
He fought everything inside him telling him to pull her into a warm embrace. They didn’t have that kind of relationship, as much as he wanted to. As much as he craved her touch. He settled for something little, reaching out to her arm, squeezing affectionately before letting his fingers drop to hers. And she reciprocated, her own lazily linking with his.
“We can share this space…” she whispered “…we could arrange it so we have our own time to ourselves. Maybe putting a tie on the door handle if we don’t want to be disturbed…” she laughed softly, earning a playful rise of Ominis’ brows.
“…I’d like that. Thank you”
“It’s okay…” she shrugged, Ominis’ fingers tightening somewhat as her arm accidentally pulled her from his grasp “…I took away your safe haven, it’s only fair I replace it”
Ominis sighed sharply, turning and holding Evelyn by her cheeks.
“You did not take away anything…” he said with a strange authority, like how a father might scold a child when they aren’t listening “…I acted like a brute. You did nothing wrong”
He felt her lean into his hand slightly and her cheek puff out as she smiled sheepishly.
And…
Was that a mole he could feel beneath his palm?
He could…see her!
He dropped his hands from her face, blinking rapidly to rid images of her from his head.
If he dwelled on them for too long he would want to see her completely. And he told himself not to get that close to too many people.
Gods, he hated himself for making that rule!
Oh, actually, I don’t need to know what anyone looks like. If I’ve known them for two years then they are worthy of my time but before that…no.
Stupid angsty little child…
“I’ll leave you to it then…” Evelyn chirped before she turned to leave his domain.
She didn’t get far before his cold hand wrapped around her wrist.
“Before you go…I wanted to say…” he paused momentarily, his lips parted as the words got stuck in his throat. His hesitation turned to nerves as he felt her turn to him completely. Her full attention, on him “…Evelyn, with everything going on; Sebastian, our disagreement, you disappearing to Merlin’s knows where…I just wanted to say I missed you”
A beat of silence hung in the air as Evelyn smiled and stopped herself from jumping into his arms.
“I missed you too…”
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sicutpuella · 10 months
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Desiderium [Tom Riddle x Original Character]
Chapter 0: Grim Old Place
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Within the somber confines of 12 Grimmauld Place, an ancient dwelling tinged with an air of mystery, Harry Potter stood with his senses heightened, attuned to every whisper and rustle that permeated the shadowed halls. This place, steeped in the ancestral legacy of the noble House of Black, seemed to hold secrets within its very walls. It was in this hallowed abode, at the dawn of a new chapter in his extraordinary journey, that Harry heard a voice—a voice that beckoned to him from the depths of the unknown.
Harry Potter, the fabled wizard of renown, turned swiftly, his emerald eyes scanning the room in search of the enigmatic voice that had addressed him. To his astonishment, he found himself beholding a woman, whose ethereal beauty captivated his senses. Claudia Rosier, a bewitching figure, stood before him.
"Harry Potter, finally in the flesh!" she uttered, her voice resonating with a blend of anticipation and delight. The words, a mere handful, hung in the air, carrying with them a weight that stirred within Harry an inexplicable mix of curiosity and fascination. Her tresses, a resplendent cascade of dark crimson, differed from the ginger hues known to the Weasley clan. It was as if her hair possessed a bewitching charm, casting its spell upon all who dared to gaze upon its allure. Yet it was her eyes that held Harry transfixed—a striking shade of electric blue, vibrant orbs that seemed to penetrate the depths of his very soul.
Though the passage of years had marked her countenance, Claudia's allure remained undiminished. Her visage bore the traces of a life well-lived, etched with lines that added a touch of elegance to her graceful face. Towering above most in the room, she possessed an imposing stature, her regal presence exceeding the height of Harry himself. It was evident that she hailed from a privileged upbringing, a scion of the uppermost echelons of society.
As she uttered his name, her voice carried a gentleness that caressed his ears. Yet her refined accent hinted at a pedigree steeped in refinement and opulence. Every aspect of Claudia's being exuded an air of meticulous grooming, while a captivating fragrance enveloped her, enchanting those within its proximity. Her posture, straight and commanding, radiated both power and wisdom, as if she had long mastered the arts of authority.
In this extraordinary encounter, Claudia Rosier embodied a mesmerizing presence, a tapestry woven from the threads of ageless beauty and refined sophistication. Harry found himself spellbound by her very essence, the allure of a woman whose charms transcended time itself. Claudia Rosier's presence did not go unnoticed by Harry's faithful companions, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. As if summoned by an invisible force, they gravitated towards the enchanting figure that held their friend spellbound.
Ron, with his hair as fiery as the sun's golden rays, and Hermione, her countenance bright with intellect and determination, approached Claudia with a mix of curiosity and reverence. The twins, Fred and George, ever mischievous and quick-witted, joined the gathering, their eyes widening as they beheld the radiant beauty before them. Claudia's captivating aura transcended the boundaries of age, captivating all who gazed upon her with a mystifying allure. Her dark crimson locks cascaded like a silken tapestry, captivating even the mischievous twins, whose gazes momentarily faltered under her bewitching spell. Her eyes, an iridescent blue, seemed to hold within their depths a wellspring of wisdom and secrets, whispering untold stories to those who dared to look deeply enough.
Ron, his freckled countenance flushed with a mixture of awe and admiration, struggled to find the words to capture the essence of this ethereal presence. Hermione, her eyes sparkling with an inquisitive light, observed Claudia with an astute curiosity, her mind working tirelessly to unravel the enigma that stood before them. As the companions stood in the presence of Claudia Rosier, her allure resonated with an undeniable magnetism, evoking a symphony of emotions and intrigue. The air crackled with an undercurrent of anticipation, as if destiny itself had woven its tapestry around this meeting, entangling their lives in a web of unforeseen possibilities.
In this sacred gathering, amidst the aged tapestries and ancestral secrets, Claudia Rosier cast her spell upon the hearts and minds of those who beheld her, leaving an indelible mark upon their souls. The threads of fate intertwined, as the companions embarked upon a journey that would forever be intertwined with the enigmatic presence of Claudia, a woman whose beauty transcended the realms of mortal comprehension.
Sirius Black, with his boisterous laughter, shattered the silence that had settled upon the room, drawing the attention of the spellbound teenagers. His voice boomed with mirth as he spoke, bringing forth the revelation of the esteemed presence that had graced them all.
"Ah, I've seen you've met our special guest!" Sirius exclaimed, his jovial tone resonating through the ancient halls of 12 Grimmauld Place. "The honorable Claudia Rosier! The head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Head of Magical Artifacts!"
At the utterance of the name Rosier, a collective recognition flickered in Harry's mind. It was a name that bore significance, for it was etched in the annals of infamy, belonging to those who had sworn allegiance to the Dark Lord. The Rosiers, notorious for their unwavering devotion to blood purity, were revered amongst the ranks of the Death Eaters. Yet, there was a complexity to their lineage—an undeniable wealth and influence that flowed through their veins. The noble Rosiers, as they were known, had established themselves as pillars of the wizarding elite.
With a graceful inclination of her head, Claudia Rosier acknowledged the young ones before her. A subtle air of dignity surrounded her, as if the weight of her position and the legacy of her name lent her an aura of quiet authority. With measured steps, she made her way toward the beckoning dining room of Grimmauld Place, joined by the other venerable members of the household.
In the wake of her departure from the hall, a mingling of emotions stirred within the hearts of the young wizards and witches left behind. A tapestry of intrigue and curiosity unfolded, woven with threads of apprehension. The presence of Claudia Rosier, a living embodiment of the complexities that entwined pureblood heritage and dark alliances, cast an enigmatic shadow upon the path that lay ahead. As they prepared to partake in the familial feast, the air thickened with unspoken questions, and the companions found themselves drawn further into the intricate web of secrets and destinies that bound them together within the hallowed chambers of Grimmauld Place.
In hushed tones, Ron Weasley leaned toward Harry Potter, his voice barely above a whisper, as if fearful of disturbing the delicate balance of the room. "A Rosier, Harry? Is she not of the same kind as... you-know-who's followers? One of those staunch believers in blood purity?" Hermione Granger, ever the fountain of knowledge, displayed a similar reaction, her expression etched with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
The trio, accompanied by the mischievous Fred and George Weasley, advanced into the opulent dining hall of Grimmauld Place, where Claudia Rosier occupied the seat of honor. There she sat, an embodiment of elegance and poise, her back held erect with a refined grace. The atmosphere seemed to shift, charged with an air of anticipation, as if the very room itself acknowledged her presence and yielded to her authority.
Their footsteps faltered for a fleeting moment, halted by the weight of their contemplation. The mere mention of the Rosier name sent ripples of unease through their collective consciousness, for it was synonymous with allegiance to the dark forces that had threatened their world. The Rosiers, a family entangled in the web of you-know-who's gang, had long espoused the ideals of blood purity, their beliefs steeped in tradition and exclusivity.
And yet, even in the face of their reservations, the trio pressed on, curiosity mingling with caution as they approached the table where Claudia held court. The resolute determination that guided their steps belied the doubts that churned within. Inwardly, they prepared themselves to navigate the intricacies of this encounter, to glean what truths lay concealed behind the veneer of elegance and power.
As they drew nearer, the allure of Claudia Rosier's presence intensified. Her poised countenance, an embodiment of regality, invited admiration and respect. Every line and curve of her figure spoke of confidence and authority, a testament to the depths of her experience and knowledge. The trio, accompanied by the ever-watchful twins, took their places at the table, the gravity of the moment hanging heavy in the air.
Amidst the resplendent atmosphere of the dining hall, an air of reunion pervaded the space, embracing all who gathered within its opulent confines. Nymphadora Tonks, the ever-capricious metamorphagus, regaled the younger attendees with her remarkable talents, effortlessly transforming her countenance into a succession of creatures—a duck, a pig, a lion—eliciting peals of laughter and delight. Even Claudia Rosier, a paragon of grace and refinement, found herself captivated by the whimsical display. Meanwhile, a distinguished assembly had formed on the side of the table, where Claudia sat alongside Sirius Black, Harry Potter, Alastor Moody, Remus Lupin, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Engrossed in earnest discussion, their attention focused upon the pressing concerns plaguing the Ministry of Magic—specifically, the obstinate denial of Lord Voldemort's resurgence by the deluded Cornelius Fudge.
"What purpose does it serve to sugarcoat the truth?" Moody interjected brusquely, his words reverberating through the hall and punctuating the conversation. The room fell into an uneasy silence, as the weight of his statement hung heavy in the air, casting a somber pall over the gathering.
"Alastor," Claudia chided gently, her voice a soothing balm that sought to quell the mounting tension. But Moody, unyielding in his resolve, persisted. "Show him! The boy will discover the truth soon enough, one way or another."
As if in response to their exchange, a gentle hand extended toward Harry, bearing a newspaper with the front page emblazoned by a striking headline: "The Boy Who Lies." The words cast a shadow over the young wizard's countenance, stirring a mix of emotions within him—an amalgamation of defiance, frustration, and an unwavering determination to confront the harsh realities that lay ahead.
Amidst the distinguished company gathered within the walls of Grimmauld Place, the weighty matters of the day weighed heavily upon their minds. Cornelius Fudge, a figure of authority wielding power and influence over the Daily Prophet, had employed his position to suppress any claims of Lord Voldemort's menacing return. Sirius Black, his voice resolute, interjected with an air of defiance, breaking the silence that enveloped the room.
"Why?" Harry Potter, his disbelief palpable, queried in a tone laced with incredulity, his faith in the integrity of those in positions of power momentarily shaken.
Remus Lupin, a sage presence amid the assembly, endeavored to shed light upon the perplexing matter. "The Ministry suspects that Dumbledore seeks to usurp Fudge's position," he explained, his words tinged with a hint of weariness. "They harbor a deep-seated fear that compels them to perceive threats where none exist."
"But that’s insane! No one in their right mind could ever—" Harry retorted, his disbelief tinged with a note of righteous indignation. The flagrant incompetence of Fudge and the Ministry's willful ignorance stretched the bounds of reason, testing the limits of their patience and resolve.
"Indeed," Claudia interjected, her voice carrying a measured tone that bespoke wisdom earned through the passage of time. "Fear possesses the power to distort minds and drive individuals to commit unspeakable acts. Fudge's faculties have been compromised, clouded by the very dread that should impel him to action."
With a somber gaze fixed upon Harry, Claudia continued her discourse. "The last time Lord Voldemort seized power, our world trembled on the precipice of destruction. We cannot afford to dismiss that grim reality, nor can the Ministry, in their misguided attempts to pacify the masses, ignore the imminent threat that looms before us."
Sirius, unwavering in his resolve, added his voice to the somber discussion. "We believe that Voldemort seeks to rebuild his formidable army, just as he did fourteen years ago. His followers included not only dark wizards and witches, but creatures of all kinds." Remus, ever the embodiment of insight, continued, "He has been aggressively recruiting, and we too seek to gather our forces. Yet, in the face of the Ministry's hateful and ignorant gaze, our efforts have been hindered at every turn."
"And yet, there is more," Remus stated with a measured tone. "We suspect that Voldemort's motives extend beyond the mere construction of an army. We believe he harbors unfinished business, a desire to complete what he failed to achieve in his previous bid for power." As the words lingered in the air, the gaze of Alastor Moody, Claudia, and Sirius converged upon Harry, a shared understanding etched upon their faces. The gravity of the situation had deepened, casting a shadow upon their hopes and filling their hearts with a sense of foreboding.
As the weighty revelations continued to pour forth, a voice pierced the air, cutting through the rising tide of information. Molly Weasley, her tone filled with maternal concern and protective instincts, interjected with a fervor born of love and apprehension. "No, that is enough! He is but a boy, barely of age! If we delve any deeper into this dangerous path, we might as well extend him an invitation into the Order!"
Harry, emboldened by his newfound resolve and a fire that burned within him, seized the moment to make his proclamation. "If Voldemort seeks to gather an army, then I’ll come with you!”
Claudia, her vibrant spirit undimmed by the gravity of the situation, found amusement in the audacity and courage displayed by Harry. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, mirroring the playful spark dancing in Sirius's eyes. They recognized in Harry the same indomitable spirit that had guided them in their own battles against the encroaching darkness.
With Molly's intervention, the evening slowly began to regain its semblance of a joyous reunion. Conversations flowed freely, laughter mingled with whispers, and the atmosphere regained its familiar air of camaraderie. Each segment of the table formed pockets of dialogue, their words and laughter intertwining, as friends and allies found solace in the presence of kindred spirits. Yet, amid the din of jovial chatter, Harry's mind remained fixated on the enigmatic figure of Claudia Rosier. Her presence, though known to him by virtue of her position within the Ministry, seemed peculiarly timed. Questions formed in the depths of his inquisitive mind, a desire to unravel the mysteries surrounding her newfound association with the Order of the Phoenix.
As the evening progressed, Harry's curiosity simmered beneath the surface, a flame that threatened to consume his thoughts. The allure of Claudia's presence beckoned him, urging him to seek answers and uncover the truth that lay hidden within her crimson hair and electric blue eyes. In this union of destiny and circumstance, Harry resolved to delve deeper into the enigma that was Claudia Rosier, for he sensed that her presence held significance far beyond what met the eye.
As the night began its descent towards the late hours, Claudia Rosier, ever conscious of her responsibilities, gracefully excused herself from the gathering. With a gentle smile upon her lips, she delicately maneuvered through the clusters of conversation, offering her farewells to each individual in turn. Her departure elicited a collective murmur of appreciation and respect, for her presence had brought an air of wisdom and elegance to their midst.
Pausing momentarily before the trio, Claudia's eyes gleamed with a genuine interest as she addressed them. "You find yourselves embarking upon your fifth year, do you not?" Her tone carried a warmth that embraced both familiarity and curiosity. Hermione, ever respectful and poised, replied with a deferential nod, her voice laced with a measure of reverence towards the seasoned witch.
"Ah, the fifth year—a truly magical time," Claudia exclaimed, her laughter bubbling forth like a melodic symphony that echoed through the grand hall. Her words carried a hint of nostalgia, evoking memories of her own youthful adventures and trials within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.
The brief interlude drew to a close, as Claudia's obligations beckoned her away. With a final gaze that held a promise of future encounters, she addressed Harry directly. "Tomorrow, Harry, we shall meet again at the Ministry. Until then, I bid you all adieu!"
Masterlist : Next Chapter
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harrysmmm · 10 months
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬
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Fanfiction:The Relics of Hogwarts (CLICK THE LINK BEFORE READING THIS)
Draco malfoy x Y/N Riddle (f!reader)
A/N: I wrote this in a day, who would've told me?? I'm so into this fic I can't stop writing it, it's crazy. Anyways, I wanted to thank you for the reception of Chapter 1, you guys overwhelmed me :). Hope you like this part, again, don't hesitate to ask me to put you on the taglist, I'll gladly do it. Love u all <3
W/C: 3.6K
Taglist: @jay-isgay
masterlist here
The ravishing thunderstorms had turned into ballets of autumn leaves dancing around the dorms’ windows. Y/N was laying down in her bed; six forty-four on the clock even though her alarm had to go off at seven. It was not the first night she had woken up before time, her worries creeping in like a plague of lice. She had become fearful of the night because she knew she couldn’t avoid the pressure. Her entire life she had spent it looking for a big breakthrough that would quiet down her thoughts of not feeling enough; enough because she didn’t get to go to school like the other kids; enough because none of her parents stayed; enough because she couldn’t name a single person that had taught her love. Now, having a purpose to fulfill, an opportunity to be part of somewhere she belonged, she wished things were different for her.
“Already awake?” She heard the voice of Pansy.
Pansy Parkinson was one of the girls she shared a dorm with. She was someone she could talk to from time to time, although the conversation would not get deeper than academic and roommate matters. She met her through Draco, who she’d mostly spend time with during breaks.
“Yeah, the wind woke me up. Pretty harsh out there.”
“Yeah…” Pansy headed towards the bathroom with her uniform in hand.
“You showering this early?” Y/N inquired. The others were still sleeping.
“I wanna try this new spell on my hair. I feel like straight hair doesn’t do me good,”
“Aight.”
Y/N also got up from bed, checking her schedule and noticing that she had Potions the first hour.
 Potions was a tough course. Y/N had found herself studying the textbook in the afternoons, trying to be lectures ahead to get better in the potion-making. But it seemed like every student in class was doomed, including Hermione Granger, a Gryffindor student that Y/N came to realize from the first week that she was a brilliant witch. Surprisingly enough, the student that always passed with flying colors was none other than Harry Potter - surprisingly enough because he didn’t exceed in any other course. Professor Slughorn was a very enthusiastic man that supported everyone that wanted to take his class – although not everyone would get the same treatment, the man being quite elitist and prone to favoritism. Harry was, without the slightest doubt, his dearest pet.
“I was beginning to worry Miss. Diggory. Got lost in the scrambled eggs?” Professor Slughorn asked, turning round towards her.
She spent a little too much time reading about the potion they had to brew that day that she lost track of time. She knew she wasn’t a favored student in Slughorn’s eyes to get away with the delay.
“Sorry,” she whispered, heading towards Draco, Pansy and other friends of Draco.
“As I was saying, The Draught of the Living Death is a dangerous potion that must be executed with maximum caution. We don’t want to end up like Sleeping Beauty, do we?”
Hermione and Harry giggled. The others didn’t understand the reference.
“Muggle-tale, very silly of me…” the Professor laughed at his own gaffe. “Well, because this potion is quite complex to execute you will partner up with someone.”
Y/N instantly looked at Draco who was also looking at her.
“Harry… well dear Harry, I don’t think you’d need a partner to brew this but for academic purposes you will do it with... Miss. Diggory.” He glanced over at her. “He might also teach you punctuality Miss. Diggory.”
Y/N couldn’t resist raising her eyebrows and sighing. Harry swiftly glanced at her.
“You got the stinkiest of all” Draco whispered to her. He was leaning over the wall – a mischievous look on his face.
“At least he’s good,” she replied. She had shared some laughs about Potter with Draco and his friends, but she never really initiated them herself.
Draco sighed and rolled his eyes at her comment.
“Do you think the wall is going to miss you if you stop leaning over it, Mr. Malfoy?” Slughorn snapped. Draco heavily breathed and fixed his posture, waving his arms in a way of showing the professor that he was not dragging his back all over the wall anymore, “Good. You’ll go with Miss. Granger.”
“For fuck’ sake,” he whispered.
Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile and headed towards Harry who had already chosen a brewing table.
“Everyone, turn to page forty-seven of your textbook and start brewing. Off you go!”
Y/N flipped the pages to the one of the mentioned potion. She started reading.
Instructions:
Cut up one Sopophorus bean.
Pour in 250 fl.oz. of water and add…
She noticed that Harry was already grabbing some of the beans.
“You want to start cutting them while I pour the water?” she asked him.
“Sure.”
She grabbed the cauldron and headed to the sink of the classroom. A line of people was starting to form, Draco being before her.
“They also sent you off?” Draco asked her, having been kicked out by Hermione.
“I volunteered.”
“Right.” It was his turn to fill up the cauldron with water. She looked at him while he did it.
“Try not to start fighting dementors after spending time with Potter,” he playfully said while passing next to her after he’d completed the task.
“Shut up, Malfoy.”
He grinned at her.
She returned to her seat and placed the cauldron at the center of the table. She noticed that Harry was crushing the beans with the blade instead of cutting them.
“Doesn’t it say you have to cut them?”
“Yeah, mine says you should crush them,” he replied, not really looking at her.
“How so?”
“I don’t know.”
She kept on reading the instructions.
“You almost took my eye out, Granger!”
“I’m sorry, the beans are really slippery!”
Y/N looked over at Draco’ and Hermione’s table and left out a chuckle.
Harry grinned at her, also observing the scene.
“They would be better off if they had your textbook.”
“Yeah,” he replied, this time looking at her.
“Should we add the Infusion of Wormwood or does your textbook differ on that too?” she playfully asked him.
“No, go ahead,” he replied, more relaxed than at the beginning.
She added the ingredient and the potion started boiling, turning purple – which was exactly what it had to do according to the book.
“What now?” she asked.
“We have to stir seven times anti-clockwise, although we have to add a clockwise stir after every seven anti-clockwise – at least that’s what my book says.”
“You lost me at clockwise.”
Harry left out a loud laugh that didn’t go unnoticed among students.
“Harry, how do you do it?” Hermione asked him, stirring the potion while her hair was all tousled.
“I follow the book, that’s all.”
“Lend us your book,” said Draco.
Harry ignored him.
“I’m with Draco on this one,” added Hermione.
Harry kept ignoring them. Y/N did the same.
“Everyone seems jealous of you, where did you get that book?”
“The cupboard,” Harry replied while adding Powder Root of Asphodel to the mix.
“You think it belonged to a former student?”
Harry didn’t react at first, as if he was mentally debating to say something. He ended up saying it.
“It belonged to the Half-Blood Prince,” he replied, showing her the signature of the owner of the book written on the first page.
“Who is he?” she asked.
Harry shook his head showing her that he didn’t know.
They then proceeded to add the Sloth Brain, the potion looking accurate.
“You’re a relative of Cedric?” he asked.
Y/N was surprised he wanted to know something about her.
“He was my first cousin.”
Harry looked at her with a serious face. “Right.”
“You were friends with him?”
“Yeah, not the closest, but yeah,” he replied. Y/N could sense it was a sensitive topic.
Harry stirred two times clockwise and dropped the mixer.
“That’s about it,” he said, imploring of having finished the potion.
She raised her hand to call Professor Slughorn who was fairly surprised the two of them had already managed to finish brewing the potion.
“Well, well, well, let’s see what we’ve got here,” Professor Slughorn said, approaching the cauldron. Everyone was expectant of the result. He dropped a red leaf into it, and it immediately dissolved into the liquid. “Merlin’s beard, it’s perfect!”
Harry and Y/N smiled at each other.
“So perfect I dare say one drop would kill us all!”
Y/N looked at Draco and raised her eyebrows. The boy was standing up with his arms crossed - his platinum hair uncombed. He shook his head at her.
“Ten points to Gryffindor and ten points to Slytherin. Although I don’t know if Miss. Diggory was much of a help…”
“She was, Professor,” interrupted Harry.
“Well in that case, I’m eager to see your improvements, Miss. Diggory.”
Y/N softly smiled, giving a look to Harry who was also looking at her.
ྀ࿔
“She was, Professor,” Draco blurted out, mocking Harry’s words a few days later.
“For Merlin’ sake Draco, drop it,” Y/N snapped.
Blaise, Pansy, Draco and Y/N were headed to the Quidditch pitch. It was the first match of the season and students were eager to see the new signings play. It was also a very awaited match for the entire school because the rivals Gryffindor and Slytherin were playing.
The four of them were rooting for the green house.
“I’m just saying, it almost looked as if you two were actually having fun,” Draco continued.
“Whatever Draco, whatever,” she replied, tired of the blonde’s insinuations.
They arrived at the pitch and got front line seats - Draco nudging students to get ahead. In a matter of minutes, the two teams flew to the center of the pitch, the commentator introducing each of the players.
“The Slytherin team also recruited a new seeker – goodbye Malfoy, hello Harper!” Everyone started cheering the new signing.
Y/N looked over at Draco who seemed bothered by the comment. He had been the seeker for Slytherin since second year, but he had to quit the team due to the Dark Lord’s commended mission – although, he had told the other players it was due to an injury.
The game started. Gryffindor held the quaffle first, passing it among chasers – a Slytherin chaser checked one of the passes and got the ball. A Hawckshead attacking formation was created by some Gryffindors to intercept a green chaser from getting near the hooped goal posts. The latter still threw the ball towards the right post and, to everyone’s surprise, Ron Weasley, new keeper of the Gryffindor team, stopped it from scoring. The spectators vigorously clapped.
“Very good that Weasley guy, innit?” a Hufflepuff girl said out loud.
“I guess, yeah…”
The girl started yelling. “Woo-hoo! Slytherin! Slytherin! Come on, guys!”
“I thought you were rooting for Gryffindor,” Y/N asked her.
The quaffle was in Gryffindor’s possession now - Ginny Weasley achieving to do the Chelmondiston Charge and scoring in the middle goalpost.
“Oh, bloody hell!” the girl lamented. “I’ve always rooted for Slytherin before Gryffindor, I know some Slytherin people that I get on with – Gryffindors can be a pain in the ass when it comes to bragging about their team.”
The girl turned her head to Y/N’s direction. She was a little shorter, golden straight hair framing her face. Her hazelnut eyes were bigger than usual, giving her an innocent outlook.
“Is it true that you’re related to Cedric?” she asked.
“Yeah, we were cousins,” Y/N replied.
“He was friends with my sister – a truly nice guy,” she added.
Y/N gave her half a smile and focused on the game.
Both Harry and Harper, the seekers of the game, were unaware of the whereabouts of the golden snitch. Gryffindor was beating Slytherin by thirty points – that meant if Harper found the snitch they would end in a tie.
“You’re a six year, aren’t you?” The Hufflepuff girl asked Y/N.
“Yeah, you too?”
“No, I’m in year five.”
“What’s your name?”
“Mary. Mary Rookwood,” she replied. “Although I have nothing to do with Augustus Rookwood, just to be clear.”
“Who’s that?”
“A death-eater of You Know Who. He recently escaped Azkaban, you didn’t hear the news?”
“I must’ve heard it somewhere,” she replied. It felt strange to hear someone name her father outside of his own circle.
It seemed that Harry and Harper had already located the golden snitch. The both of them threw themselves to it, the green one occasionally cobbing Harry to slow him down.
The crowd kept chanting “Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!”. Apparently, the red-haired boy was killing the game, intercepting every attempt of scoring.
A few seconds later, the match ended, Harry having caught the snitch.
“And Gryffindor gains the victory!” the commentator exclaimed, being followed by loud cheers.
“How pathetic, Harper,” Draco snapped.
“I bet we would’ve won if you were still the Slytherin keeper, Draco,” Pansy said.
“You bet on that,” he added.
“You’re the only one that can face Potter in the pitch,” Mary commented, entering the conversation.
Draco stared at her skeptical but replied: “Not only in the pitch.”
Everyone started to stand up from their seats and headed towards the exit stairs – most of them disappointed with the results, looking forward to commenting on the match during supper.
ྀ࿔
Students ought to be in their common rooms at that time of night. Pansy, Blaise, Draco and Y/N were sitting on the couches of the Slytherin common room, talking out of their asses.
“You guys, I’m calling this a night,” Pansy said, standing up from the couch.
“Same here, I’ve got DADA tomorrow at nine,” Blaise added, joining Pansy.
“Y/N, you staying?” Pansy asked.
“Yeah, I’m not that tired just yet.”
“Aight, see ya.”
Both students went upstairs.
Draco waited until everyone got into their dorms and glanced at Y/N.
“You wanna do something fun?” he asked.
“I’m not playing Wizard’s chess if that’s what you’re implying,” replied Y/N.
“How about we sneak out?” The boy seemed more excited than usual.
Y/N sighed. “Draco, no.”
“Why not? Besides, I was a prefect – I’m sure they will let us go if they see us,”
“Where do you wanna go anyway?”
“There’s somewhere I wanna show you.”
Y/N kept staring at him, debating the pros and cons of the blonde’s idea. She knew that if she said no, they’d probably go to sleep – something she was not eager to do, fully aware that her anxiety would creep in again.
“Okay,” she ended up saying.
“Let’s go then.”
They both stood up and exited the common room. The school hallways were only lit by the full moon’s glare and the Lumos charm of Draco’s wand.
“Thank God, Lupin is not teaching here anymore. It would’ve been an interesting night,” Draco whispered.
“Why?” she asked.
“He was our DADA professor in third year – he was also a werewolf,” he added.
“Good Lord, they let him teach regardless?”
“Yeah, he was Dumbledore’s little servant. Also really close with Potter. He got away with everything until parents started to complain - my father started the fuel.”
“How rare coming from your father,” she snickered.
He giggled. Some footsteps went noticed from one of the hallways.
“Come on, over here.” Draco dragged Y/N to the boy’s bathroom that was a few steps away from them. They got in one of the cubicles and locked the door.
“You said it was okay if they caught us,” whispered Y/N, her face almost touching Draco’s due to the lack of room.
“I lied – we’re totally facing detention if they do,” Draco replied.
“For Merlin’ sa-” Draco placed his finger on her mouth to tell her to shut it.
“Who’s there?” Argus Filch, caretaker of the school, got in the bathroom. “I heard you whisper, come out now!”
No sound or move was made. Draco was biting his lips.
“Aigh fair enough, Mrs. Norris, go take a look,” Filch said.
Draco mouthed without speaking: “We’re totally screwed”. The cat started meowing in front of their cubicle, sensing both students.
“Good job, Mrs. Norris.” Filch caressed the cat. “Get outta there, you nasty little rats! I know you’re hiding in there!”
Y/N had an idea.
“Aguamenti,” she whispered. Water started flooding from the toilet and got to Mrs. Norris legs, who started vividly meowing at the contact. She flew away from the scene.
“Mrs. Norris, dear cat, wait!” Filch ran after her, leaving the bathroom unguarded.
“Come on.” Y/N opened the door and both students ran away.
“That was brilliant, Riddle!” Draco snapped.
“Don’t call me that, people could hear.”
“Yeah sorry, ‘m just used to it.”
“We should go back to our dorms before he’s back,” she pointed.
“Now? When we’ve already arrived at the place? Hell, no,” he replied.
She sighed but followed him upstairs.
The room was at the top of a tower. Students would study the stars and planets through their telescopes in Astronomy lessons – the starry view could enchant anyone standing there.
“Good golly,” said Y/N, clearly taken by the view. “This is where you’ve been spending time during your absences at dinner?”
“Mostly, yeah,” replied Draco, sitting down on a step, “I mostly think things through, you know, about everything that is going on.”
Y/N knew exactly what he was talking about. She sat down next to him.
“I barely get any sleep,” he added. “My mind constantly thinking tactics of how to… you know… kill him.”
“Yeah… that is a heavy weight I don’t think you should have to bear so young.”
“There’s no difference between teenagers and adults in our world, Y/N. You go from being a total useless kid to a highly competent murderer – that’s how it works.”
“I know how it works Draco, you’re not the only one that has their life at stake,” she replied, starting to feel the anxiety in her voice.
“Have you started looking for them? The relics, I mean.”
“I’ve been spending time at the library, but no luck so far. I’ve been thinking of switching to groundwork, and ask students first-hand,” she said.
“You should be careful with that, people-”
“I know Draco, no one will suspect,” she interrupted him.
“Fair enough,” he replied, stargazing. “I’ve come up with an idea as well.” He pulled out a folded paper from his pocket. He unfolded it. “I bumped into this spell when I was doing some research. It’s a spell that can bewitch an object and kill the person that touches it in a matter of minutes. I thought of putting the spell on a necklace and manage to give it to someone that would hand it to Dumbledore.”
“It makes sense. Just be careful the person-”
“The person doesn’t touch it themselves? Yeah, already though about that – you just give it to them in a secluded box.”
“Sounds twisted, but that’s what you’re striving for,” she concluded.
He nodded. They both kept gazing at the sky.
“Do you remember when we used to do this at home?” he asked her.
“Yeah, always begging Druella to stay the night at the Manor,” she added.
Both their minds drifted away to seven years ago.
“I found these in my parents’ bedroom.” The ten-year-old boy pulled out two rings from his pocket. “I think there is a spell put on them or something.”
The two rings had a snake engraved in them that would tangle with one another when the rings were touching each other.
“Which one do you prefer?” the boy asked.
“Mmm… this one.” She took the one on the right.
“Here you go.” He gave it to her. “I will take the other one then.”
Both of them put on the rings.
“I will wear it next year at Hogwarts, so everyone will ask me about it, and I’ll could talk about you,” he said.
“I wish I could go to Hogwarts with you, Druella says I wouldn’t be welcomed there,” she adds, with a pouting face.
“That is bullshit, they wouldn’t even know who you are,” he snapped.
“You will write me, won’t you?”
“Of course I will, every week!”
“Good because I want to know everything!”
“Also, my father told me that Harry Potter is coming to Hogwarts too.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I will give him the Malfoy handshake, we will be best buddies,” he said really excited.
“But we are best buddies,” she replied.
“But you are a girl, it’s different.”
“True.”
“Y/N, get inside, we’re leaving!” A voice interrupted the kids’ moment. Druella was calling Y/N to go home.
“You talk to your mother, I try to convince Druella to stay?” she asked.
“You got it,” he replied.
Both of them headed indoors, without realizing that two snakes were tangling with one another.
Seven years later, Draco and Y/N were stargazing in the Astronomy Tower, not really caring that once again, both snakes were tangling with one another in a beautiful, compassed dance.
ྀ࿔
She opened her eyes and realized she was standing in the living room of the Malfoy Manor. She noticed that red drops were clashing against the marbled floor coming from her arms. Engraved in blood it was written: “Find them or perish, only the heir knows where”. She heard her father talk to her while the room was flooding in her arm’s blood. He constantly repeated the words “Slughorn knows well, Slughorn knows well”. She was drowning in her own blood…
She woke up exalted, understanding that everything had been a dream. And although she knew better than that, understanding that her father had been communicating with her to tell her to do something, she left the interpretation for the next day, drifting once again to sleep.
part three
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yummysweetroll · 1 year
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Second Place
It was a cloudy afternoon when Sebastian, waved to the girl who arrived late at the meeting place on the Wooden Bridge, to do the detention task that Professor Wesley had assigned for the pair: Deal with the leeches infestation that plagued the school's pumpkin patch. All this, because they were caught trying to sneak into the kitchen, in the middle of the night, looking for leftover desserts.
"Ahhh Great! You are the second-best thing that happened to me in this castle! Thanks my girl." Declared Sebastian after he received some bottles of polyjuice potion the girl had stolen from Professor Sharp's office, for the adventure they could have that night.
"The second one? After everything I've done! Why only the second one?" Eileen asked while frowning and starting a little theatrics.
"Well, you know… Ominis is in first place, and after all, he arrived first at school." The boy replied in a relaxed manner as he pulled the red haired girl into his arms.
"No way!" Eileen retorted, continuing the theatrics, "That's not fair! It's not my fault! I wasn't here before. I demand a historical reparation for this matter!" pouting.
Sebastian would smile and shook his head, loving when she made that kind of little games.
"There's no need for all this drama, Leen…" Saying softly and wrapping her in a hug while, instinctively, lean in to capture those pink lips he loves so much. "Besides, being in second place has some advantages!”
She snorted lifting the end of her bangs, rolling her eyes like she was super sulky, "Wow! Some kind of consolation prize? Pats on the head? Some handshake?"
The boy’s goofy smile faded, giving way to a deep blushing and an intense, emotional and embarrassed look.
"Nope. Just my whole heart, every bit of it, is yours Eileen."
This was unexpected and totally took her by surprise! She blinked a few times, and saw all her drama go to down the drain. A thousand emotions ran through her body like a shiver when she heard Sebastian say your name in a phrase like that, not to mention, her heart was pounding so hard that it could be heard at Cragcroft, as she stared into those deep brown eyes that made her sigh.
"I- I know" she replied, trying a smug little smile and maintain some dignity without letting out that she was feeling like a hysterical girl in love. The boy smiled again, so bright and sincere, that she just smiled back.
One thing was clear, that little gap between the two best duelists at Hogwarts and the record-holders of detentions have ended right there and now but not without a little provocation:
"Maybe I'll accept being your second place… Mr. Sallow"
__
Yeah! This is what i've been doing for the last few months. Fall in love for more one little punk... Its my life, this is my fate. Btw I don't forget the grease boy.
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rons-wheezely · 2 years
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The Truth || F.W.
Fred Weasley x gn reader, Battle of Hogwarts
Genre: sad, sappy, love confession (?), idk i think this counts as angst
Summary: A little drabble/ excerpt. You’re in the middle of the Battle of Hogwarts and you’re giving up hope. For winning, for love, for Fred. You finally ask him for the truth.
—x—
Fred has always been an unpredictable force. One minute he’s aloof and bouncing off the walls, and in a blink of an eye, he’s stood still in the midst of chaos. No one takes him seriously, not even his mother, but you know the truth. He’s just as headstrong as any other Gryffindor and just as stubborn too.
“Fred,” you let out in exasperation. “I’m tired of this. All of this.” You gesture wildly about the room. The pillars that once kept the Hogwarts grounds upright are crumbling beneath your touch, and the floor lays cracked and weary. You’re practically crawling up the walls in frustration. The wand in your hand is gripped tight, it’s wooden grooves digging into your skin and the worn out curves hugging your fingertips. “I’m about to go out there and die in a battle I’m not even sure we’re winning.”
His still nature angers you. He always speaks first, responds back, or leaves the last remark. His silence is bewildering and foreign, and you hate it. He knows you hate it.
If you’re about to die, you want to know the truth in its entirety, no matter how much it scared you. Would he have loved you? In a different world, would he have held your hand and kissed your wounds? Would he own up to love, or is he still afraid of the unspoken tension?
Fred takes a step forward. You take a step back.
“...Are we still friends?” Your eyes sting, but you still refuse to blink. You want him to know you are stronger, that you are capable. They bore into his with a hunger that your stomach has never been able to crave. The water in your eyes start to blur your vision. They pour out along with your unwarranted feelings. “Could we...” your voice breaks off and you take a sharp breath in,” could we have ever been more than that?”
He doesn’t speak, and an eerily calm silence dusts the room that encases the two of you.
Of course he didn’t think like that, what were you thinking? His touches that lit your skin on fire and warmed your insides were nothing more than the spark he always carried around. He ignited a fire in each of his friends, you just so happened to burn with an insatiable flame.
The tension grows too much for you. You know how this plays out: the rejection, hurt, death, and renewal. You never pegged Fred for a coward until now as you turn to walk away. The world is collapsing in on itself, and if he wanted to take the truth to the grave, he would.
“I don’t want you to go out there and think for a second that I didn’t… that I don’t love you.” His voice is broken, but it’s firm in a way that grounds you to your surroundings and stops you from leaving. “Just knowing you was worth it. Asking for anything more than that was just selfish. I mean,” he licks his cracked lips and breathes out a short laugh,” are you kidding me?”
His hand rubs over the entirety of his face. “Some stupid bloke like me dating someone so incredibly put together? It was ridiculous!”
A hollow laugh echoes in the vast expanse of rubble. It’s once cheerful feeling was nothing more than another broken promise. “You’re like,” he licks his chapped lips that have found a new cut since the beginning of this war. “….you’re like expensive bittersweet chocolate that melts on your tongue. No one expects the guy with the heart of a 12 year old and a mouthful of sugary sweets to like something so sophisticated.”
“What on Earth are you on about?” You ask.
“I’m saying I don’t deserve you.” His firm response leaves you breathless. “If we make it out of here alive, I’m going to kiss you until there’s no tomorrow.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Then we’ll be kissing amongst the stars, I suppose.”
—x—
A/N: brb gonna go cry bc we all know what happens to the poor lad…
Want to Request?: check my profile to see if it’s open!
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jecksaa · 8 months
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Playlist
When I started writing In the Shadow of What If? I created a playlist and started adding songs that remind me of my story. If you have any song recommendations going forward, please comment or send me a dm. I would love to know what songs you give these two idiots!
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witchesbrew4u · 8 months
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Chapter Two: A Secret Heart | Hogwarts Legacy
a/n: i'm going to keep these chapters a little short unless there's it garners a lot of interest. then, i'll really put a lot of length into each one... that's what she said.
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Ominis watched as Lavender walked down the Hogwarts corridors, giggling with her friends. She had arrived at Hogwarts and had quickly become friends with his own circle of friends and her own. Even though Ominis had only known Lavender and had been her friend for such a short period of time, he couldn't help but feel something more. Something powerful and new that he had never felt before.
The young Slytherin had no idea what he was feeling or how to deal with it. He had never experienced romantic feelings before, and he didn't know how to approach her without putting their friendship at risk. He didn't want to lose her or make her feel uncomfortable in any way.
As they reached their Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Lavender turned to Ominis and beamed. "I can't wait to see the new spells that we're going to learn today," she said.
He nodded, wishing deeply that he could see the smile that he knew was upon her face. He couldn't deny that he was enjoying her company more and more each day. As they started practicing the spells, Ominis couldn't help but stay close to her to keep track of her progress as best he could. Every time she hit her target, he felt a sense of pride and happiness.
After class, he walked Lavender to her next class, trying to maintain a friendly demeanor while hiding his true emotions. "Thanks for walking me to class, Ominis," Lavender said, flashing him another smile. "You're such a great friend!"
His heart sank a bit at the mention of friendship, but he forced a smile on his face. "Not a problem, Lavender. Anytime you need me, I'll be there," he replied.
As she walked away, Slytherin realized that he had to find a way to tell her how he felt. He couldn't keep his feelings bottled up forever. But the fear of rejection and loss kept him from saying anything.
The boy knew that he had to take things slow and be patient. He had to find the right moment to tell Lavender how he felt without overwhelming her with his emotions. It would be a long journey, but if there was anything he was good at, it was patience. He was willing to wait for her to be ready to hear his confession, whenever that might be.
He would do anything to protect their friendship, even if it meant keeping his true feelings to himself for a while longer. The slow burn of their romance had only just begun, and Ominis was ready to wait for as long as it took to win Lavender's heart.
At the end of the day, he knew that her last class was Herbology... One that she shared with Sebastian. His two friends in one place was all that he could ever ask for, but, when he arrived, he stopped in his tracks upon hearing Sebastian's voice. He knew that tone. He was talking to Lavender in the way that he only wished that he could. Flirtatiously.
This made his blood boil for some reasons known and some unknown.
Staying hidden behind one of the many large plants in the greenhouse, he listened in on their conversation, making sure he wasn't interrupting anything until he felt the need to. Maybe he could even learn some pointers from his best friend on how to win Lavender over.
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msvanillalatte · 4 months
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This One or That One
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NSFW. MDNI
SUMMARY: Just smut.
WARNINGS: Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader. Piv, no protection (wrap it b4 you tap it), breeding kink, praise kink, rough sex, dirty talking, teasing, aftercare (implied, not written), a bit of overstimulation.
Let me know if i missed any, please!
SMUT UNDER THE CUT!
"M-Mattheo, slow d- down!" You cried as Mattheo Riddle thrusted his hips into you at full speed. He was desperate. Desperate to be inside you.
"I think you can take it. Fuck... You are tight." Groaned Mattheo as he chased his high. He was relentless, fucking you like an animal, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head as he grabbed your neck and made you look at him.
"Eyes on me, pretty. Look so good around my cock, am I fucking you dumb, angel?" Mattheo said as he pounded into you without mercy. Everything about him was intoxicating, he had you wrapped around his finger. Your mouth opened and smiled, as a bit of drool fell out of it.
You were close, and Mattheo sensed it. The way your walls clenched about his dick and your high pitched moans flew out of you mouth made him crazy. For him, you were the most beautiful girl to ever exist, looks, personality, cunt. Everything was perfect with you, especially the sex part. How you looked at him with hooded eyes and that fucked-dumb smile made him harder, if that was even possible.
"Oh- OH MY GOD!" You moaned in ecstasy as his mushy tip hit your sweet spot repeatedly. Mattheo was big, and even after having sex almost every day, it always felt new, like the first time.
"Yeah, feels good, huh? Do you like this spot or that one better?" Mattheo chuckled as he thrusted in your G-spot and cervix alternately. Your sight went white and you cried one last time as you let the pleasure consume you. He was good, really good. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, tightening around Mattheo and scratching his back until it bled. Your moans were loud and your back arched till it couldn't anymore. Mattheo kept thrusting, going even deeper, if that was possible. It felt overwhealming, but you were too fucked-out to even care. Your eyes closed as you kept moaning at the stimulation.
"So tight and warm. Want me to cum inside you, aye? Want me to fill you up, honey?" Mattheo said as he started kissing and biting your neck. He was close and you could feel by how his cock throbbed inside you.
"Inside me, please! Want to be filled by you, Matt!" You whimpered at the overstimulation. "Atta girl." Was all Mattheo said before coming inside you, painting all of your walls white. He panted and kept pounding for a bit so that none of his load would spill out of you.
He slowly pulled out of you, making you cry at the emptiness. "You did so good, princess, so so good."
You blushed at Mattheos praise, and waited for him to help you get to the shower, as he always did.
Hoped you liked this one. First time writing Mattheo Riddle.
468 words.
SORRY IF I MADE ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE
Sorry if the ending is a bit rushed :)
-MsVanillaLatte
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anto-pops · 4 months
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Cheirophilia - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader
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Summary: Following the summer leading up to your seventh year, you return to Hogwarts to discover that Sebastian has undergone changes that greatly appeal to the eye. Your eye, to be specific. There’s no easy way to tell the man you’ve been dating for two years that your attention has been fixed on a part of him otherwise deemed normal, but after a while, you’re forced to face the truth of the matter. 
Alternatively summarized as you have a hand kink and Sebastian Sallow has extremely nice hands.
Word Count: 10.7k
Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, hand kink, size difference
Full fic can be found here on Ao3 (with more diverse tags)
You had to be losing your mind. That was the only plausible explanation for the wild, unrestrained thoughts that had been plaguing your brain for the last week every time you so much as glanced at Sebastian. Yes, he was attractive. He was charming and confident, and quite frankly he was the epitome of male perfection as far as you were concerned. Not a day went by where you didn’t consider yourself lucky to be able to call him yours, and you knew he was just as enamored with you.
But your newfound infatuation with his hands had started relatively recently, and you had no clue what to make of it. 
Sebastian was touchy to begin with, and he always had been. From casually brushing shoulders with you in the Great Hall during mealtimes, to tucking your hair behind your ears at night– the man was constantly finding ways to be closer to you, and your appreciation for his efforts knew no bounds. It made you feel treasured, wanted, revered, and a slew of other things that made your heart swell with affection. Maybe you could attribute your blatant ogling of his appendages to that, or maybe you had just finally started to notice after your Divination class last week. 
Professor Onai, for all her outlandish preachings on clairvoyance, had taken a more mundane approach in teaching her students ‘fortune telling’ a few days ago. “Palm reading,” she had said, “is a delicate and fixed art. It can be as vague as it can be accurate, and it takes an expertly trained eye to decipher the true meaning behind the grooves in one’s hand.” 
You were far from an expert in anything relating to Divination, but you did have an eye for nice things, and Merlin– were Sebastian’s hands exquisite. They were nearly twice the size of yours and covered in calluses, a lingering sign of the grueling physical labor he’d done over the summer in Feldcroft. His fingers weren’t as dainty as Ominis’, but they were long, thick, and lined with pulsing veins that stretched across the backs of his hands and coiled around his toned forearms. As you’d traced the lines on his palm with your fingers, he’d shivered at the featherlight feeling and chuckled at the deferential way you seemed to commit every part of the appendage to memory. 
You didn’t even want to begin to recount the way your heart had hammered in your chest when it had been his turn to read your palm. Maintaining your composure had taken every ounce of willpower in your body.
Since then, your mind had wandered an unhealthy amount.
By some miracle, Sebastian hadn’t noticed your unwavering eye contact with his hands yet. The two of you had been kept preoccupied with the mountains of classwork that came with the start of the new school year, and as a result, your only opportunities to spend time with him had been during mealtimes. Today was different, however, because Lucan had finally set up the first Crossed Wands match of the season. You and Sebastian were both participating, and your boyfriend was all too eager to jump back into dueling after the summer months spent away. 
Your eyes scanned him dutifully from across the room, watching with rapt interest as he chatted with Brattleby about the upcoming fight. Sebastian had grown considerably since your fifth-year, virtually towering over Lucan as he looked down at the curly haired Gryffindor. The latter had gone through a growth spurt of his own, but it was easy to overlook him when he was standing next to your boyfriend. Sebastian was big; broad shouldered with long, powerful legs and thick wrists that complimented his massive, mouthwatering hands. 
Said hands were fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt as he rolled them up, nodding down at Lucan as he replied to something the younger boy had said. You didn’t know what they were discussing, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. His deft fingers adjusted his uniform as he prepared for your duo’s duel, and instead of following suit, you were unabashedly studying his every move. That is, until a voice from your left drew your attention. 
“Did something happen over summer?” 
You startled easily, warranting an eye roll from Imelda as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the wall. It was a rarity to find her in the Crossed Wands courtyard, but you knew she had been hounding members of the Quidditch team to prepare for trial runs and scrimmages, and Sebastian factored into that assortment of people. Schooling your nerves the best you could, you started to shed your robe in an effort to simultaneously get ready for the duel and distract from the metaphorical eye candy across the room. 
“What do you mean,” you asked vaguely, keeping your eyes pointed at the floor as you moved. 
Imelda was having none of it– clearly smarter than you deigned to give her credit for. “Don’t play coy with me. You’re always checking Sallow out, but since we’ve been back it’s ten times worse. Did he sprout a second cock or something?” 
You damn near choked on your own tongue as you whipped around to glare at her. “Do you have to be so crass all the time?” 
She waved you off, “Yes, I do. Who else would rile you up this way if not myself? Now answer the question.” 
Heaving a deep sigh, you draped your robe over a stack of crates and began to gather your hair back into a loose braid as you muttered, “No, nothing happened over summer.”
“But something is going on. Come on,” she implored with a taunting tone, her brown eyes glimmering with amusement. “At least tell me if it’s something bad.” 
“It’s not bad,” you relented. “It’s– I’m not sure what it is, to be honest. We haven’t even done anything since we’ve been back, we’ve been too busy. But…”
You trailed off, staring at the wall behind Imelda as you brought your hair over your shoulder to finish off the plait. She waited patiently, however, all too eager to get the inside scoop on your love life. “But?”
“I don’t know– have you ever found yourself focused on other body parts? Like, really random parts of another person?” 
The Quidditch captain’s face shifted into a confused expression as she chanced a look at Sebastian, evidently trying to figure out what on Godric’s green Earth you were referring to. “Uh, no? If you’re talking about his feet though then I’m going to ask that you forget I even brought this up–”
“No!” You blurted loudly, drawing the attention of a handful of students in the courtyard, Sebastian included. He cocked a brow at you from across the room, and you flashed him a bashful smile in silent reply before mouthing a timid ‘sorry’. Imelda snickered under her breath when you turned back to her, a deep scowl settling on your face. “Dammit, not his fucking feet. I’m talking about his hands. He has really nice hands– I never noticed before.” 
“You’re telling me you’ve had your knickers in a twist for the last week and a half because of Sallow’s hands?” 
To say Imelda looked dumbstruck would be an understatement, and you suddenly felt incredibly stupid for having said anything at all. You kept your eyes downcast as you tossed your braided hair over your shoulder and slid your wand free from its holster, doing your best to ignore the woman’s burning stare. “Nevermind– forget I mentioned it.” 
“I doubt I could even if I wanted to, but for the sake of your dignity I’ll go grab a seat and let you get your head in the game.” You felt your cheeks heat up instantly in response to her snide comment, and you lifted your eyes in time to watch Imelda turn towards the far corner of the room with a smile on her face. She paused before taking off, murmuring over her shoulder, “Make sure you’re paying attention to your opponents and not Sallow’s hands.”
Sweet Merlin… you should have kept your big mouth shut.
***
As it turned out, your head was so far out of the game that it became collateral in the midst of your duo’s duel. 
It was your own fault, really. Despite doing your best to focus on the task at hand, your eyes had continually wandered over to Sebastian, tracking his movements as he fired spell after spell in retaliation against your opponents. He had always been exceptionally graceful while fighting– be it in Crossed Wands or in the Highlands at your side– and his sudden growth spurt over summer had only added to his preexisting agility. It was all too easy for you to get absorbed in his fluid movements as he ducked and rolled, then blocked and countered every attack with astonishing finesse. 
Unfortunately, that meant you were left wholly unprepared for the Depulso charm that sent you careening across the room into a stack of crates. Your head had been positively spinning as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, but your vision cleared in time to watch as Sebastian abandoned the duel entirely to hurry over to where you lay prone against the broken wood. Lucan had shouted something about the match being called off, but you could hardly pay any attention to his words with Sebastian fretting over you, mere inches from your face. 
“Merlin’s bloody balls, what the hell happened?” The brunet hadn’t even given you ample time to reply before he had hoisted you up in his strong, capable arms to carry you to the Hospital Wing. 
That was how you’d ended up where you were now; laid out in an uncomfortable hospital bed with Nurse Blainey hovering too close for comfort while your boyfriend sat beside you with his arms crossed stiffly over his chest. His expression was virtually unreadable, but you weren’t able to focus on him for long without your head pounding in silent protest. 
“Drink this,” Nurse Blainey dutifully instructed, thrusting a vial of Wiggenweld in front of you as she scanned your bandaged temple. “It will help with the swelling and the gods-awful headache I’m sure you’re sporting. My diagnostic spells came back negative for any internal injuries, but that doesn’t mean you can rush back to your foolhardy dueling club. A concussion is a concussion, no matter how small.” 
Your tongue felt like lead in your mouth so you nodded in response instead of speaking– only to instantly regret the movement. Sharp, concentrated pain shot through your head, and you took it as a sign to carefully knock back the contents of the potion she’d given you. A soothing warmth overtook you in a split second, and the throbbing in your skull lessened considerably, prompting you to relax against the pillows situated behind you as your eyelids fluttered. Evidently pleased with your subdued demeanor, Nurse Blainey jotted something down on the clipboard that had been tucked under her arm before turning to Sebastian. 
“I trust that you’ll ensure she actually takes it easy for the next few days, Mr. Sallow?” 
Your eyes cracked open in time to watch Sebastian’s gaze flicker to yours, and the muscle in his jaw ticked as his attention zero’d in on the thick bandage that now adorned your head. “Of course. She’ll be a model patient for as long as needed.” 
Satisfied with his agreement, Nurse Blainey pivoted on her heel and strode to the back end of the room, leaving you and Sebastian alone in a tense silence. 
Heaving a heavy sigh, you gathered your hands in your lap and let your head tip back against the bed frame, wanting nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. All of this because you couldn’t stop ogling your boyfriend for a measly twenty minutes when it mattered most… it was an embarrassing and stupid mistake to acknowledge. Moreover, you’d basically ruined the first Crossed Wands duel of the season– something you knew had to be bothering Sebastian, given his competitive nature. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled half-heartedly. “I should have been paying closer attention.”
Sebastian scoffed to your left, and when you peered at him through the corner of your eye, his head looked like it was on the verge of imploding. “Are you seriously apologizing for getting a concussion right now?” 
There was no stopping the frown that spread across your face, and you nervously started picking at your cuticles as your mouth opened, shut, then opened again. “Yes– I mean– no. I’m sorry that the match got canceled because of me. You were probably excited to get back into Crossed Wands and I just… messed it up. I wasn’t thinking clearly out there.” 
“Obviously,” Sebastian countered easily, the amused glimmer in his eyes vanishing before you could take proper note of it. “You’re never one to let your mind wander when you fight, but you have to know I’m not mad about the duel. I was worried about you– I don’t think you realize how terrifying it is to see you of all people bleeding.” 
You gaze fell to your lap as you pursed your lips and lifted your hand to the bandage taped to your temple, trying and failing to recall if you’d actually bled at all. It was all something of a blur if you were being honest. When you looked up at Sebastian once more, he had sat forward in his seat and was reaching towards you, wearing an expression that was equal parts concerned and curious. With your brain still muddled, all you could really do was stare wide-eyed at the nearing culprit of your misfortune; his Merlin-be-damned hands. Those long, flexing digits came to gently stroke the side of your cheek, turning your head to the side briefly to allow him a good look at your patched up face, and as Sebastian tsk’d disapprovingly, you were fighting back a slew of unholy thoughts that had no business arising in the midst of such a tender moment. 
The side of his mouth quirked up as he thought back to your debacle in the clock tower courtyard. “Did your inability to ‘think clearly’ have anything to do with whatever you and Imelda were talking about earlier?” 
Being reminded of your discussion with the Slytherin woman at such an inopportune time caused your face to flush a deep red, and you nervously clasped your boyfriend’s larger hand in your notably smaller one and drew it into your lap. You gently thumbed over the veins on the back of his hand, taking note of the constellation of freckles that ran up his wrist and forearm, and you saw Sebastian tilt his head to the side as he let you fondle the limb. 
“Maybe…” you drawled lazily. Perhaps you would chalk it up to your concussion later on, or perhaps you just wanted to get your insane obsession off your chest. Regardless of the why, you steeled your nerves and swallowed thickly before muttering, “You have really nice hands.” 
Silence. Sebastian said nothing– and that was considerably worse than him saying something– anything. Your brows slammed down just as you lifted your head to gauge his reaction, only to discover a bewildered smile plastered on his smarmy face. 
“…I think you hit your head harder than I thought. Should I call Nurse Blainey back over here?”
Ah. He thought you were delusional. Brilliant. 
Letting go of him as though his skin were heated metal, you sighed and sat forward to swing your legs over the edge of the bed, shivering slightly when Sebastian placed his hand on your hip to steady you. His face conveyed genuine apprehension as he asked, “Are you sure you should be trying to move right now?” 
Part of you was thankful he hadn’t taken your confession seriously, but another stronger part of you was annoyed that you had said anything to begin with. Here was Sebastian, acting chivalrous and doting on you in the wake of you flying face first into a crate, and all you cared to think about was having his hands on you. On your bare skin, between your legs, around your neck…
Something was definitely wrong with you. 
“I’m alright– stop worrying. I promise I won’t overdo it. At this point I just want to eat and go to sleep.” Thankfully he made no move to stop you when you stood yourself up on shaky legs, instead placing that damnable hand on the small of your back to help you keep your balance. You closed your eyes momentarily to will away the vile, uncouth thoughts that seemed to run rampant in your concussed skull, but if the way his fingers tensed against you was any indication, Sebastian clearly thought your brief pause was due to your injury.
“Fine,” he bit out, sounding all too displeased with your stubbornness. “Food, then straight to your dorm. But if I think for even a second you can’t manage, I’m carrying you to bed myself.” 
It hurt to do it, but your eye roll was heavily warranted. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, dad.” 
As the two of you walked from the Hospital Wing to the Great Hall, you realized just how serious Sebastian was about his promise to Nurse Blainey. His hands were constantly hovering at your side, ready to catch you at a moment's notice in the event you required the help, which you fortunately weren’t in need of. You didn’t think you could take any more coddling– or any more… hands-on-torment, so to speak. 
Ominis joined the two of you for lunch shortly after you’d arrived, and you were unsurprised to discover that he was very much aware of your blunder in Crossed Wands earlier. He made sure you were in good spirits and feeling alright before he began nagging you in typical Ominis fashion. 
“Honestly, a Depulso charm?” He chastised you further, resting his chin on his palm as his other hand came to tap absentmindedly against the surface of the table. “I would have expected something like Bombarda to finally end your win-streak, not a paltry Force spell.” 
“That’s what happens when you get complacent,” Sebastian added helpfully, skewering yet another sausage from the platter in front of you. He had to have inhaled four of the blasted things already. Those deep brown eyes of his darkened as they shifted to the injury on your temple, and if he deposited his food on his plate a little more aggressively than normal, you certainly didn’t say anything about it. “She’s just lucky things didn’t end up worse.” 
Ominis hummed in agreement and looked in your direction. “Yes, do make sure you’re not breaking your fall with your face anymore. I would like to think the three of us will graduate in one piece together, but between the two of you and your extracurriculars, my hopes are lessening by the day.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” came your monotonous reply. “Thanks for the words of encouragement, guys. You really know how to make a girl feel better about getting launched into a bunch of boxes.” 
“Well it was quite the spectacle. I’m sure you’ll be the talk of the school for at least a few days, so get used to it.” 
You didn’t even need to turn around to know Imelda stood directly behind you, presumably with her hands on her hips and a wicked smile stretching from ear to ear. She was exactly who you didn’t want to deal with right about now– especially considering she was the only living soul privy to your innermost thoughts regarding Sebastian– but she had no qualms about sidling up beside you and making herself comfortable at the table. Her face swam into your peripheral vision as she inquisitively scanned the side of your head now decked out in thick gauze and tape. “So, what’s the verdict? Brain hemorrhage? Cracked skull? Memory loss?” 
“Concussion,” Sebastian answered around a mouthful of food. He fixed you with a stern look as though to remind you, “She’s been instructed to take it easy for a few days which means no broom trials, Reyes. Don’t even think about dragging her off the castle grounds.” 
The Quidditch captain’s hands shot up in mock surrender, her expression the picture of innocence as she shifted back a little in her seat. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I take it that means you’ll be out of class for the foreseeable future?” 
You answered swiftly this time around, lest your boyfriend deign to speak on your behalf once again. You’d hurt your head, not your mouth. “For today at least, yeah. I doubt I’d be much good in Transfiguration with a splitting headache.” 
If you were only allowed one word to describe the look that overtook Imelda’s face, that word would be trouble. Her tawny eyes crinkled at their corners as a mischievous glint twinkled within them, and you could practically see her gearing up to say something you knew would piss you off. She folded her hands neatly over one another atop the table and leaned sideways on her elbow to shoot you a conniving look, and you couldn’t help but stiffen as a wave of apprehension crept up your spine. 
“Well let me know if you need a hand getting notes for the day. Though I’m sure Sallow would be more than happy to assist. Isn’t that right, Sebastian?” 
The emphasis she placed on the word didn’t escape you, and judging by the confused expressions on both Ominis’ and Sebastian’s faces, they didn’t miss it either. It took unwavering focus to maintain your composure and not react, and you prayed to whatever higher power existed that your cheeks weren’t as rouge as they felt. You sighed softly and glanced at the brunet through your lashes, all too aware of the puzzled look he now bore. “How about it?” You opted to simply play along for the time being in a bid to hide the true meaning behind Imelda’s telling comment. “Can you bring me the notes later?”
Sebastian nodded slowly, his gaze shifting between you and Imelda for a long moment before he set his fork down and ran his long, dexterous fingers through his hair. Your eyes tracked the movement against your will, which only seemed to intensify the curious glimmer in his dark eyes, and when he flashed you that sinful Sallow smirk you were all too familiar with, you swallowed nervously. 
Surely Imelda hadn’t just helped him put two and two together, right? 
“Am I missing something here?” Ominis chimed in from across the table, a scowl tugging at the corners of his lips. 
“No, no,” Imelda said, the words dripping with false dismissal. The urge to throttle her was intense. “I was just implying that our dear friend here is bound to be a handful for the next few days, so she’ll need help. Let me know if I can do anything, although I’m sure you’d much rather have Sebastian be the one to–”
She was cut off by the booming slap of your hands against the tabletop as you clambered to your feet, desperate to escape her pointed comments and Sebastian’s prying stare. “Will do!” you exclaimed with too much bite. You lowered your voice and did your best to keep your tone even, “I’m sure I’ll manage, but I can’t be bothered to figure it all out right now. I’ll just– I’ll see you guys later.” 
You didn’t dare look back as you swung your legs over the bench and took off towards the massive double doors. At this point, you were wishing that your collision with the crates had put you in a coma. Maybe then you could have avoided Imelda’s inevitable pestering, but even then you were positive your nuisance of a friend would have found a way to taunt you in your dreams. This was something you were going to have to acknowledge with Sebastian sooner or later, but until that day came you would do everything in your power to avoid any more awkward run-ins with Imelda. At least when Sebastian was with you, you reasoned. For now, you needed to get away from the general public and sleep on your deranged thoughts before anything else embarrassing could happen.
Apparently the universe had other plans for you, however. You recognized Sebastian’s heavy footsteps running up behind you without even checking to be certain, and even though you wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep the remainder of the day away, when his large hand came to coil around your bicep to halt you in your tracks, you let him. 
“Hey, are you alright?” His eyes softened as they took in your miserable appearance, but all you could pay attention to was the feeling of his thumb caressing the back of your arm as he held you in place. “I’m sorry if I upset you– I didn’t realize Imelda was trying to poke bruises, otherwise I would have told her to leave as soon as she came over.” 
Shaking your head absently, you stared over Sebastian’s shoulder and directed your next words towards the wall, because that was infinitely easier than eye contact at the present moment. “I’m not upset, you don’t have to apologize. She’s just… a lot to handle right now.”
“I’ll say,” he concurred easily, moving his head so it was in your line of sight– only to furrow his brow when you ducked your chin to avoid looking at him. His jaw clenched and his hand around your arm tightened, if only briefly, and then he was tugging you along after him. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm.” 
***
He knew. 
He had to know. 
It was the only plausible explanation you could come up with to give reason to Sebastian’s over-exaggerated use of his hands for the last three days. At first you hadn’t thought much of it; you still had a staring problem and Sebastian still had really nice hands, but the difference in the last seventy-two hours was apparent. It was as though your boyfriend was modeling his hands for you, constantly finding ways to dangle the appendages right under your nose and simultaneously letting his touch linger against your skin for far longer than normal. It was driving you insane, and you were positive he was doing it intentionally. 
Realistically it had started the day after your botched Crossed Wands duel. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had been sitting in the Library to study and work on assignments, your motley trio focused intently on your individual work for the bulk of the afternoon. Ominis was using his dictation quill to take notes, his foggy blue eyes narrowed in concentration while he muttered softly under his breath. Sebastian skimmed his own Herbology textbook with hooded eyes, the book propped against the knee he had crossed over his other leg, and his laid back posture coupled with the way his fingers idly played with the hair around his temples was enough to leave you entranced. Once he had taken notice of your staring, however, he’d smirked to himself and made a show of licking his finger to turn the page over, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. 
You didn’t need a mirror to know you’d flushed beet red at the suggestive act. 
The day after that, the two of you had been in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Sebastian had been asked to demonstrate the proper wand movement for Confringo by Professor Hecat, and shortly thereafter she had asked another student, Hector Jenkins, to take point across from your boyfriend for a friendly duel. Naturally you were prohibited from participating without Nurse Blainey’s go-ahead, so you’d stood at the back of the crowd and looked on ahead with rapt interest, eager to watch Sebastian make short work of his opponent, because of course he would. Chocolate brown eyes had met yours from across the room, and the movement that followed was subtle but obvious– at least, to you it was. 
As Professor Hecat droned on and reminded her students of the rules that went hand-in-hand with dueling in class, Sebastian fondled his wand. Quite literally. His nimble fingers had run along the wood, stroking the handle with such a light touch that his pinky had remained elevated the entire time. His thumb and index finger came to pinch at the tip softly before skimming down towards the checkered handle, and he made a dramatic show of wrapping each one of his fingers around the base before deftly angling the thin wood at you. 
Your breath had caught in your throat at the brazen motion, and Sebastian shamelessly winked at you before settling into the usual, confident persona he embodied while fighting. 
To say you’d become a ball of nerves afterwards would be a monumental understatement. You wound up leaning back against the wall with your ankles crossed to ease the rampant ache that had settled between your legs, doing your best to not look like you were going into an animalistic heat, which was easier said than done. 
Later on during dinner in the Great Hall, you found yourself seated next to Sebastian and across from Ominis, as per usual. The evening had started out much the same as always; with the three of you discussing the events of the day and planning for the upcoming weekend. The only difference was your boyfriend had seemingly taken it upon himself to distract you from the conversation entirely, covertly placing his hand on your thigh beneath the table to run the damn thing up and down your leg. Every time he reached your knee, he would steadily drag his palm higher up, teasing you with an occasional squeeze the closer he got to your center. Since you didn’t want to clue Ominis in on his best friend’s antics you were forced to keep your lips firmly sealed– left with no choice but to silently endure your boyfriend’s unique form of torture. 
As Ominis idly discussed wanting to escape to The Three Broomsticks on Saturday, Sebastian’s grip on your leg tightened while he sat forward to spoon a serving of the night’s dessert onto his plate; a colorful fruit tart with a healthy dollop of whipped cream slapped on top. You swallowed thickly as he delicately skewered a strawberry with his fork and brought it to his lips, pausing to reply to Ominis before popping it in his mouth. 
“I’m game, better to go now before Quidditch practice starts again. Merlin only knows how many trials Imelda intends on cramming into my weekends before long.” 
Ominis snorted and set his cutlery down on his plate, “You say that as though she’s doing it to spite you and you alone. In case you’ve forgotten, there’s six other people to account for on the team, and not all of them were blessed with the free time to practice over summer like you.” 
Sebastian side-eyed you briefly, and the corner of his mouth quirked up into a condescending grin. “That has a whole lot of nothing to do with me and everything to do with them being lazy. But my point still stands– that woman lives to invade my free time, so butterbeers this weekend sounds like a solid plan. What do you say, darling?” 
The brunet chose that exact moment to sensually take the strawberry between his teeth and pull it free from the fork prongs, smiling wickedly at you all the while. A tiny bit of the whipped cream had stayed behind on his bottom lip, but before you could point it out to him or wipe it away yourself, Sebastian did exactly that, drawing his finger into his mouth to suck deviously at the remnants. Your eyes were wider than saucers as you watched his tongue lave over the pad of his thumb and forefinger, and the telling squeeze he bestowed upon your thigh immediately afterwards all but confirmed your fears. 
He absolutely fucking knew. 
***
“I think there’s something on your mind,” Sebastian said from beside you. “Something that’s been on your mind for a while now. Care to share?” 
The two of you were on your way to the Room of Requirement, having just left the Hospital Wing after Nurse Blainey had summoned you there to evaluate your recovery progress following your mentally arduous week. She’d been all too pleased when Sebastian told her you had adhered to her guidelines to the letter– minimizing your physical activity and resting at every opportune moment, much to your boyfriend’s credit. After a few diagnostic scans, mobility trials, and a never ending list of questions designed to test your memory, she had deemed you fit to return to your usual activities– though not before making you swear to stay out of her sight for the rest of the year. 
Affectionately, of course. 
Sebastian’s comment reeled you back to the present moment, however, and you shot him a stern look out of the corner of your eye as you ascended the spiral staircase within the Astronomy Tower. “Unless you’re referring to how stunned I’ve been thanks to your obscene behavior this week, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He skipped ahead of you until he reached the top landing, spinning on his heel to face you as you breezed past him without so much as a second glance. “Oh, but I think you do. Surely you know why I’ve been behaving so ‘obscenely’. You’re the one who gave me the idea after all.” 
Keeping your expression schooled was difficult, but you managed. As the wall concealing the door to the Room of Requirement began to shift and change, you were all too aware of Sebastian sidling up next to you so he could run the tips of his fingers up your arm and over your shoulder, sending shiver-inducing chills down your spine. The gesture was intimate and suggestive, and you sighed softly as you stepped out of his reach to make for the fully formed entryway in front of you– not particularly keen on putting on a show for any students that potentially milled about the tower. 
You made it three steps inside the room before Sebastian grabbed you by your shoulder and spun you sideways, swiftly and effortlessly guiding you backwards until your back collided with the wall, and the startled gasp that ripped from your chest seemed to ignite a spark of interest in your boyfriend’s eyes. The hand he had on you traveled up along the smooth skin of your neck until he had a loose grip on your chin, and the sinful way his thumb trailed over your bottom lip spoke volumes about his intentions. 
“Do I need to coax the truth out of you, or can you be a good girl and say what it is you want?” His other hand slipped beneath the fabric of your blouse, his touch blazing and leaving you hot with want the higher up your torso it traveled. The tantalizing feeling of his blunt nails scraping along the plane of your stomach had your muscles clenching and your breath hitching, and Sebastian dipped his head lower so he was directly in your line of sight. You knew he saw your rampant need for him reflected in your eyes when his pupils dilated, and he moved his thumb away from your lip to caress your cheekbone as you stared wide-eyed up at him. He cocked his head to the side as he goaded you further, “Come on, darling. You’ve never had a problem with saying what’s on your mind before, why switch up on me now?” 
“Because it–” you started to say, cutting off mid-explanation when Sebastian curled his long fingers around your waist to press against your ribs in a way that nullified all coherent thought. His domineering presence over you left you nearly breathless. 
He smirked, all too aware of the effect he currently had on you. “It what?” 
Merlin, he was doing you in with barely any effort. Reducing you to nothing at the hands of his… well, hands. You were pathetic. He waited for your response though, his fingers dancing up your side promisingly while you worked to formulate a sentence. “I-It’s ridiculous,” you stammered out. “It’s embarrassing…”
The hand he’d tenderly ghosted across your cheek slipped behind your head, and his fingers tangled in your hair at the back of your skull to tug gently. The motion forced you to crane your chin up to follow Sebastian’s unwavering gaze, and his lips were close enough to yours that you felt his airy chuckle fan across your nose. “I already know what it is and I can tell you this much; you and I have very different definitions of what qualifies as ‘embarrassing’, darling.” His head dipped into the crook of your neck so he could better bestow wet, open mouthed kisses against your thundering pulse, and your stomach flipped at the sordid sounds he made as he went. “Come on, say it,” he implored you, his voice like velvet. “It’s only us here– tell me what you want.” 
“I…” you began, shuddering immediately after when Sebastian nipped at the spit-slick skin of your throat. Finding the words was only going to get increasingly difficult from here on out, you wagered. “I want your hands on me. I haven’t been able to get the thought out of my mind since school started.”
As though to punctuate his retort, Sebastian’s hold on your hair and your waist intensified, and a barely there squeak weaseled its way past your lips as he pulled away from your throat to fix you with a heated look. “My hands are already on you, sweetheart. Tell me why, use your big girl voice.”
Bastard. Your eyes sharpened in response to his quip, and your palms came to rest flat against the larger man’s chest before you dug your nails into the fabric of his shirt. “Because you really do have very nice hands. Because the mere idea of having them on me does things to me that I can’t begin to describe. And because I’m asking you nicely,” you purred the last bit to the best of your ability, relishing in the insatiable, hungry look that crossed Sebastian’s face at your tone. “Touch me, Sebastian. I want you– all of you. Please?”
As soon as Sebastian’s lips captured yours, your inhibitions ceased to exist. All you could taste, smell, feel, and hear was him, and judging by the demanding way he pulled you flush against him by your waist, that was exactly what he was going for. You keened needily as his nails dug into your sensitive skin and the fingers buried in your hair wound tight around the strands, and your boyfriend eagerly bit at your lips before backing away just enough to stare at you through his hooded, lust-dark eyes. 
“Keep talking to me like that and I’ll do anything you want,” he groaned, utterly captivated by the sight of you so wound up. You caved to his ministrations completely then, your stomach flipping over on itself when his chest pressed against yours and sealed you more firmly to the wall. His groin followed soon after– the long, hard length of him tangible through his trousers as he leaned into your spread legs further– and your own hands finally came to grasp at his shoulders when he rolled his hips against yours fervently. 
“Touch me,” you implored him, the request practically a whisper as it fell from your lips. “Your hands– please, Sebastian.” 
A pleased sound snaked its way through Sebastian’s clenched teeth as he obliged you instantly, releasing your waist and hair to run his hands down your torso before delving beneath your shirt. The rough, chill-inducing feeling of his calloused palms trailing against the bare skin of your stomach had you moaning in earnest, and your head tipped back against the wall with a thunk as he cupped your breasts in those heavenly hands you’d grown to adore so much. Sebastian took full advantage of your submissive position and buried his head in the exposed crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he murmured, “You sound incredible when you beg, darling. So fucking perfect– gods.” 
No words came to you to formulate a reply, especially when your boyfriend’s tongue darted out of his mouth to lave down the slender column of your throat, the biting sting of his teeth on your shoulder following soon after. Your next breath caught in your chest when Sebastian ground his stiffening cock against you once more, and his airy chuckle against you was seductive and ripe with promise. Those nimble fingers of his clawed gently over the rounded tops of your breasts before pinching your hardened nipples, and that was what finally pulled coherent English from your lips. 
“Fuck,” you groaned, unaware of just how much the brunet adored the needy timbre to your voice. 
Sebastian’s hands left your body for the briefest of moments to push himself off the wall, then took you by the hand to guide you towards the small bedroom tucked away in the back of the Room of Requirement. Between the two of you, your combined excitement was palpable– thick enough to cut with a knife– and as soon as you made it through the threshold of the door, he was back on you in a heartbeat. It was all a flurry of lips, teeth, and tongue as he steered you backwards towards the spacious bed, those magnificent hands of his holding your hips steady with firm reassurance. 
Once the backs of your calves connected with the mattress, Sebastian pulled away from your mouth with a wicked smirk, giving you a playful shove that sent you sprawling back on the bed with a startled yelp. It hardly mattered, though. Not when the man before you began undoing the buttons on his own shirt, exposing the tanned, freckled expanse of his toned chest. Not when he shrugged the attire off his sculpted shoulders and lowered himself to his knees so he could peer at you over your bent knees. Nothing else mattered aside from him.
“You know,” he started to say as his hands reappeared on your hips, tugging at the waistline of your trousers so they started to slide over your hip bones. “You’ve inadvertently given me lots of new ideas.” 
A shiver coursed its way down your spine at the suggestive tone he spoke the words with, amplified tenfold by the unrepentant fantasies that flickered through your mind. “Oh really?” 
“Really,” he agreed simply. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he gestured wordlessly for you to lift your hips so he could slide your pants down your outstretched legs. You obeyed, if only to get a move on with things so you could see the new ‘ideas’ Sebastian had apparently come up with. Dark, eager eyes met yours as he dropped your clothing to the floor, and then Sebastian asked, “Do you trust me?” 
Without missing a beat, you murmured, “Always.” 
Not another word was uttered, and you watched through hooded eyes as Sebastian prowled up the edge of the mattress to crawl over your prone form. Amusement seemingly glimmered in his lust-laden gaze as he set to expertly unbuttoning your shirt with his adroit digits, revealing inch after inch of your flushed torso, and goosebumps broke out over your stomach in the wake of Sebastian’s knuckles brushing against your heated flesh. 
He didn’t bother removing your blouse fully, opting to instead flick the sides of the undone top outward to let them hang disheveled against your sides. The shallow, anticipatory breaths you let loose was the only sound you made as the freckled man above you gathered your wrists in one of his larger hands to pin them above your head, and the entire time he worked to restrain your arms, his eye contact with you remained unwavering. Warriness and excitement alike pooled in the lower pit of your gut, mixing with the telltale ache between your legs that fueled the heat that slithered through your veins. 
Sebastian’s free hand came to touch you then, starting at the swell of your breasts before he gently thumbed over the peak of one of your nipples. The sensation had you sucking in a breath loud enough to make your boyfriend pause– only for him to repeat the motion a second time. “You’re rather pent up, aren’t you?” 
Despite yourself, you narrowed your eyes in response to his taunting and rolled your head to the side in an attempt to hide the blush you knew spread across your cheeks. “Shut up…”
The hand on your breast flew to your face, gripping your chin and turning your head back so you were forced to meet his penetrating stare. “Come on, be honest,” he goaded you further. “You missed me. Say it.” 
“Of course I missed you,” you relented quickly. “I didn’t see you for two months.”
That damnable smirk of his made its grand reappearance, and you hated how much you loved the sight of it. “You managed well enough last summer. Or were you lying through your teeth about handling the distance ‘easily’ on your travels?” 
Your fingers twitched in his unrelenting hold, the urge to crane your neck away again taking over, but you were forced to keep your eyes trained on his. “I wasn’t lying then, but I still missed you.”
The way his head tilted to the side curiously reminded you of an animal attempting to get a better look at their prey. “So why the sudden change?”
Chewing your lip thoughtfully for a moment, you decided to voice your inner thoughts regardless of how bashful the idea made you feel. “Because you changed. You’re… bigger.”
Your drab attempt at an explanation didn’t escape Sebastian, but that amusement still glinted in his eyes as he released your chin and trailed his hand down your torso towards your aching center. “Bigger, huh? Care to elaborate?” 
Skillful fingers slipped under the cotton of your undergarments, already damp with arousal, and you mewled softly when one of his digits slid through your wet folds before pressing down on your clit with delectable pressure. It nearly derailed your train of thought entirely, but Sebastian helpfully pulled away and snickered when your disappointed sigh slipped through your clenched teeth. “Dammit–”
“You talk,” he fucking purred down at you, looking far too smug for your liking, “and I work. Sound like a fair trade?” 
His offer was emphasized by one of his fingers probing at your slick entrance, further enticing you to oblige his request. When you angled your hips to meet the feeling, he pulled back swiftly, quirking a brow at you with a knowing look. 
Bastard, you thought. 
Fine. 
“Y-You’re bigger,” you started to say. “More muscular than before, and I think you grew a couple inches.” 
Sebastian’s hand resumed its teasing exploration of your center once more, gingerly inserting his middle finger inside of you as his thumb took to rubbing titillating circles against your clit. The flutter of your eyelids brought a coy smile to the brunet’s face, and his hold on your wrists tightened a fraction as he increased the intensity of his movements. He mockingly said, “You like having a big, strong boyfriend or something? The scandal.” 
You barely registered the gibe– not with his thumb slowly working over your clit in time with his finger. It damn near voided all of your brain’s function. All you cared to focus on was the bliss that came with finally having his hands on you. “Yes,” you groaned with blatant need. “I love it– I love it so much– you’re perfect, Sebastian.” 
Spurred on by your praise, Sebastian leaned down to mouth wetly at your throat, biting and sucking at whatever smooth skin he found as he pumped his finger in and out of your wet heat steadily. Your head rolled to the side to allow him easier access as he presumably worked a bruise into your flesh, and you relished in the knowledge that he was rebranding you as his after the summer months spent apart. A guttural moan spilled from your mouth as he laved his tongue over the mark and covertly slipped a second finger inside your cunt, crooking the digits up to reach a depth you could never hope to when you were pleasuring yourself. 
He took it slow, half for your sake and half for his own, but as Sebastian scissored his fingers and upped his tempo, he could see how you fell apart for him. You struggled to breathe, your every exhale colored with a panted, needy little sound while your thighs twitched and tensed on either side of his arm. When he shifted his fingers up just slightly, your entire body shuddered as your back arched off the bed and you choked on a breathy whine. You were so sensitive, so incredibly vocal, and it was driving him crazy. 
Sebastian’s size allowed him to stretch over the majority of your upper body easily, his hold on your arms still firm as he dipped his head lower to lick his way down to your breasts. Ever so gently, he took one of your nipples between his teeth and clamped down with a cautious amount of pressure, increasing the pace of his fingers when he heard your breath hitch in your throat. You could feel his lips stretch into a smile against your chest as your heart rate sped up and your hips involuntarily bucked up into his hand in search of more friction– more of him. 
“Merlin–” you writhed atop the sheets as that familiar ache took root in your gut, your finish approaching dangerously fast as Sebastian pressed the palm of his hand against your clit and somehow managed to pump his digits deeper inside of you. “Fuck, fuck!” 
He pulled away from your torso to watch you with rapt interest, a flicker of something primal flashing in his brown eyes as he observed your features pinching together with obvious focus as you chased the euphoria he bestowed upon you. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel it… I never thought just my hands could do it for you like this, sweetheart. Consider me pleasantly surprised.” 
His words meant nothing to you– not right now. Your climax was so close, so painfully close that all you cared to focus on was the steady rhythm of Sebastian’s fingers and his strength holding your wrists down to the bed. Brainlessly, you rolled your head to the side as Sebastian worked you towards the edge, only to blink blearily up at him when he released your wrists to grab the underside of your jaw and force your eyes back on him. 
“Look at me while you come on my fingers. I want to see every second of it.” 
Who were you to say no? 
Your release was akin to a tidal wave– crashing over you violently and stealing your breath as you tried your hardest to keep your eyes open and glued to Sebastian. Mouth falling open around an airy moan, your boyfriend continued to finger-fuck you through your orgasm as he captured your lips in a desperate, lethal kiss. “That’s it,” he groaned into your parted lips. “Good girl.” 
The brunet had the good grace to slide his fingers out slowly while he pulled away, laughing softly at the slight jolt your body gave when his palm grazed over your bundle of nerves once more. Dazed and twitching beneath him, you didn’t notice he’d brought his hand to his mouth until it was inches from your face, and the stars clouding your vision cleared just in time to watch him take the two fingers that had previously been inside of you between his lips. 
“I– what are you doing?” Your incredulous tone didn’t deter Sebastian in the slightest, and he smirked around his fingers before pulling them out of his mouth with an audible wet sound. 
“Tasting you,” he said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Then with a wink he added, “You’re very sweet.” Nearly all the blood in your body rushed to your cheeks in that instant, warming your face as your mouth fell open in silent shock. It was balmy– completely and utterly bewildering. Yet you couldn’t help but find the brazen move equally… arousing. 
You’d officially lost your mind. 
In a flash, he lowered his hand closer to your own open mouth, shoving the fingers past your lips and grinning when you squealed with indignant surprise. There was nowhere for you to go– nowhere for you to turn your head to escape the taste of yourself on his digits– and so you were left with no choice but to allow Sebastian to run his fingers along your tongue. The added knowledge that you found his hands so alluring only made the whole spectacle more intimate, and before you could stop yourself, you found yourself sucking shamelessly at his skin, working your tongue over his knuckles as you stared up at him with unrestrained desire. 
“Gods,” he muttered, swallowing thickly before pulling his fingers free from your mouth. His voice was shaky, and you dimly registered that your eager submission had gotten to him. 
You licked the remnants of yourself from your lips as Sebastian shuffled back to the edge of the bed, standing straight to hastily undo his trousers and shove the material down his long, toned legs. Numbly, you followed suit, sitting up shakily to shrug off your now wrinkled blouse and toss it aside to join the growing pile of clothing at your boyfriend’s feet. 
Nude as the day he was born, Sebastian confidently stared down at you and took in the full picture of you before him with an animalistic hunger shining in his eyes. His chestnut hair was unruly and curled wildly in every direction, the breaths he hurriedly sucked down causing his shapely chest to rise and fall in a way that dragged your attention to his strong, capable body. You drank in the sight of his tan, freckled skin, your wide eyes roving lower and lower until they landed on his hard cock arching proudly against his taut stomach. 
Maybe you were imagining things, but you could have sworn that was bigger too. 
When your eyes jumped back to Sebastian’s, you were positive he knew exactly what you’d been thinking, if his wolfish grin was anything to go by. “See something you like?” 
“Please fuck me,” you groaned, too turned on by the sight of him alone to be embarassed about how desperate you sounded. 
Sebastian effortlessly crawled back onto the bed and settled over you, pulling you into another intoxicating kiss as he slipped between your spread thighs and rolled his hips, grinding his achingly hard cock against your slit with a dizzying sort of precision. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, your eyes squeezing closed before you tilted your head back and arched up against him. “F-Fuck, you’re so hard,” you gasped, loosely hooking your legs around Sebastian’s hips. 
Groaning his agreement, Sebastian nipped at the side of your jaw and murmured, “You have no idea… want you bad.” He nuzzled your ear for a moment, humming at the way you shivered under him, then mouthed his way down your throat with hot, wet kisses that pulled a slew of tiny noises out of you as he rocked his hips again. 
Before you could wrap your arms around his shoulders like you’d planned, Sebastian was sitting back on his heels to manhandle you exactly where he wanted you. Those big hands of his grabbed you by your waist, hauling you down the bed like you weighed nothing so your rear was balanced over the tops of his knees and he was perfectly aligned with your slick entrance. The way he easily moved you around spoke volumes of the physical labor he’d done over the summer, slaving away the muggle way to restore his Uncle’s former home for the two of you to use after graduation. Every stone moved, every log chopped, and every wheelbarrow trundled was cataloged within the corded muscles that lined his body. 
If you weren’t already head over heels for the man, you were certain you would be deemed grossly smitten.
Sebastian’s hands slid from your waist to your thighs to better hold you in place as he bumped the tip of his cock against you, and your breath stuttered in your chest at the first steady roll of his hips, the head sliding home easily into your slick, tight, and warm heat. Your name fell from your lover’s lips in the form of a ragged moan, fingers digging into your legs as he rocked his hips slowly, feeling for any tension or resistance. Everything he’d done to soothe you, however, had paid off, and he found that once he pressed in more firmly, you took him perfectly, letting him slide deeper with every short thrust. 
He really had gotten bigger.
“I could tell you thought so,” Sebastian said around a laugh. Had you said that out loud? “Your eyes just about bugged out of your head when you looked earlier.” 
Embarrassed for the nth time in the last week, you looked away from him and quietly grumbled under your breath, “Whatever… don’t let it get to your head. Your ego is big enough as it is.” 
“It’s not the only thing that’s big apparently,” he countered easily. As though to punctuate the statement, Sebastian pulled his hips back once more before spearing into you with brutal efficiency, and the gasp that ripped from your throat then was followed by a breathless sound that bordered on a wail. 
It was so thick– Sebastian’s cock– and it filled you up and spread you open so incredibly, but it was the angle that was really rendering you incapable of thought. With your hips elevated, the blunt head brushed past your sweet spot with every dragging thrust, re-lighting that fire in your blood that threatened to set you ablaze. You wanted more, but you were almost afraid of how good it would feel, how high it would take you. Sebastian was all around you, with his hands gripping your thighs, deep inside you, stirring you up and coaxing brainless whimpers out of you, not bothering to hold back for your sake– and thank the gods for that. 
A meek keening sound arose from your throat as you gasped Sebastian’s name, and the brunet responded with a rough growl, stroking your thighs tenderly before abandoning one of them to place his hand on the lower part of your stomach. He pressed down with his fingers splayed against your skin, thrusting into you deeper so you could really feel every long, delectable inch of him within you, and the added pressure made your head spin and your walls clamp down on him. 
“Oh, fuck–” you moaned wantonly, arching your spine as much as you were able in a bid to feel as much as possible. Sebastian responded by moving his grip on your thigh to your waist, fucking into you harder until all you were capable of doing was whining for more with your eyes unfocused. Rational thought was gone– you were losing your mind with the way Sebastian was pounding into you now, that fire spreading through you– but you had quickly stopped being afraid of the feeling. The hotter you got, the more Sebastian’s perfect aim drove you higher until you were arching and pleading, noisy and half-coherent as overwhelmed tears filled your eyes. 
When you finally caught hold of words beyond brainless, wavering cries, you threw your head back with a gasping whine to loudly beg, “Sebastian, please, please–” 
“F-Fuck,” he stuttered out, moaning desperately into the empty air before he rasped, “You like it that much, darling? Want more?” 
“Yes!” You clawed mindlessly at the hand he had clamped against your waist, urging him to use the damn thing in the way you had dreamt of every night since returning to school. Ever the fast learner, Sebastian obliged you mercifully and let go of your waist, leaving you to hook your legs around his hips as he brought his hands to your throat to pull you onto his cock harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room and muddling your brain further. 
“You look so perfect with my hands around your neck, darling.” Sebastian growled out in-between bestial grunts. “So pretty, so eager. Is it good?” 
He wasn’t choking the life out of you by any means, but the pressure he applied on either side of your neck added a sort of high that left your tongue useless in your mouth. You could hardly formulate words, much less a full sentence, but you still managed to stammer out a raspy, “Y-Yes, fuck–”
You were fairly certain you were drooling all over yourself, but you couldn’t find the willpower to care. There were too many sensations to keep track of, and through the haze of it all, your climax came into sight. Your hand came to grasp at one of the ones Sebastian had secured around your throat while the other fisted in the sheets, squeezing as hard as you could as you rutted back against his hips the best you could. It wasn’t doing much as far as you were concerned, but Sebastian evidently appreciated your attempt as he groaned roughly, letting his head hang between his shoulders as he began pumping his hips faster. 
“Shit– I’m close, I’m so close–”
Beyond your moans of encouragement, there wasn’t much else you could say. Sebastian took your motivating sounds in stride though, keeping one hand clamped around your neck securely as the other flew down to your clit, instantaneously rubbing urgent little circles around the nub in a bid to take you with him over the edge. Your voice was already raspy but so much louder and needier than Sebastian’s short moans of your name, and his half-baked praises and pleas intermingled with the distant banging of the headboard against the stone wall. Even through all that– through the spiking volume of your pleasure and the blinding need devouring you both– all Sebastian saw was you, and all you saw was ecstasy. 
When you finally came you wailed, long and loud as your hands clung to the sheets beneath you and Sebastian’s thick wrist alike, the latter of which knew better than to stop now. Your muscles tensed dangerously tight, your toes curling hard and your nails scraping fresh tracks down Sebastian’s forearm hard enough to leave welts, and your boyfriend was already holding on by a thread by the time your cunt clamped down tight around him. It was almost too hard to move, but there was just enough give that your climax peaked impossibly further and Sebastian fell right after you, crying your name over and over with the rough, faltering tempo of his hips. 
The two of you were hardly aware of anything as you both slowed down and came off of that high, but you eventually blinked the fog from your mind and came to realize Sebastian had long since abandoned his hold on your throat in favor of laying across your prone form, lightly peppering kisses against your collarbone as he sucked down breaths to catch his breath. The stinging twitch of uncoiling muscles and the swelling bites and scratches only served to bring you both back to reality in slow, leisurely time with one another, and at the end of it all it was Sebastian who found his voice first, murmuring yet another snide comment into the crook of your shoulder. 
“Should I start wearing gloves now?” 
Still breathless and spent from the last hour– hell, the entirety of the last week– your delirious laughter was uncontrollable as you realized and quickly accepted that the truth was now out there, and your boyfriend was more than ready to take full advantage of that. “I don’t think gloves will help, honestly.” 
The remainder of the school year would end up being a testament to just how true that claim actually was, you guessed. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, would most certainly enjoy every second of it. 
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the0doreslover · 3 months
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Kitten love?
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
warnings: fluff, the word slag once (not to a human) this was supposed to be comedic
summary: 🐈❤️🐈‍⬛
“How many times have i told you to keep your rabid horny cat away from mine how many more times am i going to say this nott?” you scoffed placing the black cat into theodore’s arms “I walked in and he was fucking humping her”
“well maybe if your stuck up princess of a cat stopped rubbing her ass on him, he wouldn’t go after her” he retorted
“what are you trying to say nott!”
“that your cat is a slag”
you gasped and were about to retaliate, before his friends intervened.
“alright, that’s enough of that, theodore you keep teddy away from….” pansy paused for a second
“cleo”
“away from cleo” she continued “and cleo stays away from teddy”
“fine by me!” you agreed
“me too”
“then that’s sorted”
That was infact not sorted
Theodore was sitting in the common room with his friends when he heard someone stomping in quite violently. He turned and saw you red in the face while a panicked hermione tried desperately to calm you.
Once your eyes locked with his it was like something snapped in your brain and you lunged for him.
People perked up watching as you tried to inflict harm on the slytherin boy
“Bloody hell, you’re crazy get off me!” he was laughing
“You can go to hell!” you were shouting at him “Why are you laughing!”
“You’re cute not to think i can’t have you on your back in seconds”
“Fuck you! and Fuck your mangy cat”
“Okay that’s enough” he grabbed your wrists and pinned you on the ground “why are you attacking me?”
everyone around the room watched the commotion silently
“My Cleo…”
“yeah?” he urged
“my cleo is…”
“for gods sake, what happened to your cat”
“She’s been impregnated!” you shouted struggling under him.
He paused for a second before the sound of laughter broke his thoughts, he looked up to where his friends + hermione were all trying and failing to surpress their giggles.
“Has she taken a test?” he ask
“She’s not a fucking human theodore, i told you to keep your animal away from mine and now look what’s happened” you pushed him to the side and stood up “hermione let’s go”
You were walking with harry, ron and hermione in the corridors when you heard your name being called.
You turned and came face to face with an out of breath theodore.
“Can i help you?”
“I’ve been- trying- to find you- all week!” he breathed out
“well here i am”
“listen, i need you to dig deep into your cold heart and find it in yourself to allow my cat to see yours”
“absolutely not”
“what’s wrong with you? this isn’t romeo and juliet, they are animals, my cat has been walking around aimlessly trying to find yours, have a heart” he snickered. “let him be a good dad”
“They way you guys are talking about these cats, you’d think they were real people” ron scoffed
“Fine, bring tony to my dorm after dinner”
“teddy” he corrected you
“yeah fine teddy”
“thanks love, appreciate it” he winked “see you after dinner”
That’s how you found yourself watching two cats reunite. It was as of you were watching a romantic film (but with cats)
“See, this is what you were in the way of” theodore snickered
“don’t make me regret my decision theodore” you scowled before the room fell into a comfortable silence
“i guess it is quite sweet” you smiled watching as cleo begun rubbing her face on teddy.
Theodore chuckled, and then, with a more serious tone, he said, "You know, maybe there's something to learn from Cleo and Teddy
you raised an eyebrow. "What are you saying, Nott?"
His gaze met yours, and he hesitated for a moment before speaking, "How about you let me get to know you?"
you found yourself contemplating the idea. After a brief pause, a smile crept across your face, and you agreed before turning your attention back to the cats on your bed, who had now comple te ly warmed up to each other.
One particularly sunny afternoon you were sat by the lake, cleo, who was quite big now, lay peacefully next to you keeping you company while you tried to study for your upcoming charms assignment.
you were stuck on a particularly hard question and when you decided to look up, you saw that the spot next to cleo was now occupied with her favourite cat, teddy.
you had warmed up to him after seeing him with your cleo so much. You reached your hand out to stroke him before a loud noise startled you.
You turned and saw theodore hysterically laughing.
“That was the most unfunny thing ever” you tried your hardest to hide your smile, but failed nonetheless.
“Yeah well, i got you to smile” he took a seat next to you.
“Well, can i help you?” you asked
“yeah” he smiled “you can talk to me”
“god you sound so lonely Theodore”
“well your cat has clearly gotten mine under mind control, he doesn’t even sit with me anymore”
you laughed
“can i tell you something” he asked “i feel like we are at this point in our friendship where you won’t kill me”
“who knows…” you shrugged with a faint smile on your lips.
“I purposefully let teddy near cleo”
“What?! why” you tried to be angry, but you honestly didn’t really mind the two cats near each other anymore
“because my favourite part of the week, was when you would come and give him to me, even if you were fuming half the time” he snickered
“that’s… really sweet”
he looked away from you and smiled.
“can i tell you a secret” you moved infront of him
“hm”
“every time i saw your cat, i’d be happy”
“why’s that?”
“cause it meant i’d get to talk to you… well shout but still”
he leaned forwards and grabbed you by the waist slowly pulling you closer towards him “can i tell you another secret” he whispered
“yes” you were slowly leaning towards him
he smiled and leaned into your face catching your lips in a sweet kiss.
“i think you should let me take you out”
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hollowwrites · 3 months
Text
Blindsided
Ominis x MC
Part 15
Summary - Ominis has become sick of Sebastian’s possession of the dorm room and has temporarily moved into the Undercroft. Finally…some privacy…
Again feel free to swap Evelyn with MC or Y/N
Warnings - 🌶️ Fingering, Female masturbation, Mild Choking, Biting, Praise Kink (If you squint) the word gusset (I know some people hate it) all characters aged up 18+
Sorry if this seems really awkward. I personally hate smut that is written just a bit too smoothly. If I’m writing two people’s first time…it’s going to be awkward and slow. Sorry if that’s not what you’re into. Fair play to people who wrote smut I am deffo a fluff gal. Sorry if this is bad. No one look at me!!!
Word Count - 6173
-
“Thought I’d find you here”
Ominis raised his head as though it weighed a tonne when he heard Evelyn walk into the Undercroft.
As normal when Ominis occupied the space, a faint piano could be heard from somewhere within the cluttered room. The smell of tea filled the cavernous space and the singular large chair he favoured had been pulled into a more central position, as though he were looking over the Triptych like a window.
Obviously he wasn’t.
But none of that really registered with Evelyn.
What concerned her currently was the way he flinched when she entered. Like she’d startled him.
“Hmmm, were you looking for me?” He asked lazily pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Oh…only all my life” she whispered scared to shatter the peaceful ambiance he had created.
He exhaled a laugh as she approached him her hands finding his shoulders and kneading softly into the harsh panels of his shoulder blades.
It had been a few weeks since the last trial and Sebastians attempts to try and solve the Mystery of the spider egg had been fruitless. It had gotten to be a bit too much, the boys dorm now covered in silk and arachnids from his initial attempts to solve its puzzle…Arachnids or Acromantulas, they’re weren’t entirely sure.
But all Sebastian was left with was an empty room full of spiders and an exasperated friend sick of pulling webbing from his hair.
Each night he attempted to resolve it but so far to no avail. And finally, after weeks of arachnid related torture, Sebastian finally asked everyone for help.
Ominis agreed, of course, on the condition that he would not be returning to the dorms until the trail was done. And only after every last eight legged demon had been purged from the halls.
So for now he resided in the Undercroft, a makeshift bed tucked under the Triptych, all blankets and pillows and no mattress.
Not that it was unusual for Ominis to sleep soundly in uncomfortable locations.
“Did I startle you? That’s very unlike you” Evelyn mused, softly digging into his shoulders. A long exhausted moan left his lips and his eyes closed slowly as she did.
“Sorry I wasn’t paying attention…I haven’t been sleeping” Evelyn opened her mouth to fuss, to ask the inevitable string of questions she usually did upon hearing that. He waved her off dismissively “Don’t worry not nightmares…been trying to figure out the next trial for Sebastian”
“I see…” her hands reached a standstill at the apex of his shoulders and as she did, he reached up, soothingly, brushing across her knuckles until a familiar dull poking, pricked his fingertips.
He smiled wistfully.
”You’re wearing my ring” he said mutedly
“Of course I am…It’s beautiful”
“You don’t have to…” he adds, though in a much quieter voice; not quite a whisper, but close.
“I know I don’t have to…but you gave it to me. It means something” she replied in kind, her tone matching his. Filled with love and adoration.
He smiles softly, taking her wrist between his fingers and pulling her around to his front. He rested his forehead against her stomach and sighed.
It was as though he was pulling her in for strength, using her warmth and affection to fuel him. And for what it was worth, it worked. He pulled away moments later, a charming albeit lopsided smile on his face. He rose from his chair, taking her hand effortlessly and looped his arm around her waist.
“Dance with me…” he demanded in a soft tone
“Is that how you ask?” He had already spun her around slowly, bringing her back to his chest as she said this. The smile on her face oozed into her words making her argument…completely moot.
“Oh…I apologise profusely” he said sounding not the least bit sorry. He took one long step backwards, heels clicking together as he bowed deeply. Somehow, his eyes never left hers…
“Please…” the word was lithe as it slithered from his lips and into her ears, sending a shiver down her spine. He chuckled before continuing; “May I have this dance?”
“Hmm…” she took a step forward as he rose back to his towering height. “Do I have a choice?”
“I’m afraid not, dear”
Despite his words, and despite the distinct almost predatory look in his eyes…he extended a hand to her.
The slight twitch of his fingers commanded her attention, and though she would never deny him, there was a pull towards him. Like destiny…or fate.
If one believes in such things.
She took his hand, though her fingers glided along his palm, wrist and forearm up to his shoulder as she tucked herself into him. She wanted to tell him to wipe the smirk of his face, but something about the curl of his lip…the smallest display of teeth as his smirk grew wider…
He looked…
…happy.
The eagerness at which he grabbed her waist was queue enough for Evelyn. She took his other hand gently in hers whilst his arm pulled impossibly closer. It had hooked itself just below her ribs and with his domineering height, pulled her almost off the floor entirely. She giggled softly, her toes the only thing keeping her grounded as their chests met.
Slowly, and with a more intimate nature than he showed her in the Common Room, he lead her across the desolate chamber.
Every now and then, he would stop to kiss her hand. Each time he paused, the kiss became less and less chivalrous.
First it was her hand, then her cheek, then his head stooped low so they could dance cheek to cheek.
And suddenly, he was nuzzling her neck, his nose drawing long arduous lines across her jaw.
Ominis took in a deep breath; her scent fuelling him further and made his eyes go glassy.
He strode forward, dipping her low causing her head to tilt back as he held her horizontal to the floor.
His hand splayed supportively across the small of her back, thumb stroking across her waist. His warm breath ghosted across her neck.
The sharp inhale from her lips snapped him out of his reverie. He gently shook his head and pulled her back to her feet, his hands sturdy as they held onto her waist just a touch too tightly.
His eyes remained fixed on her and unlike the usual calm pools she’d gaze lovingly into…
Two darkening wells stared back at her.
”How is it you never seem to fumble for my hands? You always seem to know exactly where I am….no matter what” she shifted uncomfortably under his direct eye contact.
She did want to know…it was a question she had on her mind for the longest time. But right now she just needed to move his gaze.
It wasn’t like he made her uncomfortable. It was the way he looked at her.
As she swayed, so did he.
As she leaned in closer, so did he.
It was one of an embarrassingly long list of things he did that caused her stomach to twist and turn.
And it was like he knew that too.
The look of calm and content happiness faded with the blink of an eye, replaced with this twinkle she rarely saw in Ominis.
She saw it almost daily in Garreth and Sebastian…but Ominis?
His devious nature wound the knot forming, tighter.
What is he concocting?
“Honestly?…” He started “…I’m not sure. Best I can come up with is my magic advances my sense of Proprioception, past what a normal person has”
“Pre…prop…what?” Evelyn tilted her head and he mimicked her, almost like he was proving a point.
“Proprioception…” he chuckled and the twinkle in his eye flared once more. “…let me show you”
He stepped away from her, his long fingers reaching up to undo the knot of his tie.
The last thing she saw before he wrapped the soft, silken material around her eyes was his wide, devilish smirk.
“Can you see?” He asked, amusement heavy in his voice.
“Not a great deal…” she muttered and lifted the tie slightly to peer at him. He paced back and forth in front of her before he disappeared just off to her right and behind her.
“No cheating…” Ominis scolded softly, plucking her wrist away from her body and keeping it there, letting the silken blindfold fall back to place.
“Do you see how you know where your arm is despite not seeing it?” He twirled her around as he had in the dance before and she gasped.
This is what he experienced on a daily basis and she can’t handle it for less than a minute.
It drove her insane.
She trusted him implicitly but the idea of him being in completely control of her in that moment…
…her stomach suddenly felt hollow and her lungs empty.
“That’s Proprioception, the sense of knowing where your body is in relation to itself” he let her arm fall back down to her side but not before kissing this inside of her wrist. She gasped again listening intently to the click of his heel against the stone as he started to circle her.
”Mine is just a little stronger. It extends beyond myself…things around me. So I can see you in front of me and so long as you don’t move…” he was silent for a beat, her breath catching when his voice was suddenly right next to her ear “…too quickly…I know where you are. What you’re doing…”
His words felt heavy as though they carried more meaning than a simple explanation of his abilities.
“I can focus it too like duelling. It’s much stronger if I have my wand” he continued casually, like the breathe upon her neck and his words weren’t setting her stomach ablaze.
He had to know.
He knew everything else
“I…see” she muttered shakily, her hands twitching to remove the blindfold. Once again, he caught her fingers, entwining them with his own, his chest flush with her back. He held their combined hands against her stomach whilst he pulled her hair from her shoulder. His finger danced across her skin as he did so.
She took in a sharp intake of air through her mouth, her lips seemed constantly parted as though she anticipated him kissing her.
Maybe it was wishful thinking.
He remained stationed behind her, his hand falling to her waist, feeling the steadily increasing rise and fall of her breathing against her ribs. His breath was warm against her neck and she could feel his lips against her ear as he breathed.
But…Ominis was a gentleman. And so released her, rather abruptly, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You know…” she whispered, a devious plan forming as she pulled the tie from her eyes.
He was showing marvellous levels of restraint.
Restraint she no longer had
Because of him…
“…‘Mystery Man’ still hasn’t asked me to the ball”
“Oh I know…” he grumbled, his voice low and strained.
“It’s starting to feel a little like no one wants to go with me” she sighed overly dramatically and took a step closer to him. His eyes went wide when he felt her getting nearer and nearer…until he could feel the heat of her chest against his.
He chuckled heavily.
“I don’t know. There was that Durmstrang…” he brushed some hair behind her ear, resisting every urge to pull at the strands and pull the noises he’d heard too few times. “…I think he learnt his lesson though. And there’s Prewett, but I think he knows better. It seems at least there’s some semblance of a brain between those ears”
Ominis laughed…darkly. It caused vibrations to emanate through both of their chests and he pulled away to ‘gaze’ down at her.
“I wonder why no one has asked me?” She pondered putting on the most saccharin, overly innocent tone.
“Probably because…” he growled out pushing forward slightly so their noses almost touched. He took in a calm breath “…they know you’re mine…”
“Have you staked your claim on me?” She whispered back, lips dangerously close to his to the point they brushed delicately against the full flesh of his bottom lip. “Because I don’t remember you asking…”
“I don’t need to ask…no one will take what is mine” his voice like music dancing it’s way across her skin but it sounded almost painful. The restraint he currently showed was…waning. “…I may no longer be a part of that family but…Gaunts are known for being quite possessive” His fingers brushed up her arms to cup her face, his fingers trembling against her cheek.
“Yes…of artifacts and trinkets…not really people”
“I’ve just found a different kind of treasure I wish to hoard away for myself”
“Stop…” she said sternly but playfully “Flattery will get you no where”
“Won’t it? Then why is that hummingbird of a heart of yours rattling agaisnt its cage” he whispered against the shell of her ear.
“Ominis…”
“Yes?”
“Kiss me…”
“I…I can’t…” he groaned his hands dropping to her waist, fingernails digging into flesh there as though he was physically keeping himself back
“You need to get off me before I do something…” his voice trailed off, low and husky. And filled with an emotion she’d not heard from him much before. He sounded…embarrassed
“What if I want you to do something?” She urged trying to sound level headed and calm, though she sounded whiney and needy as the words came from her lips.
His head dropped to her shoulder, as it often did when he sought comfort. His lips remained a breath away from her neck, trembling at the temptation to just sink his teeth in.
But that was selfish.
And that’s what he wanted.
He wanted to make her happy. Make her feel loved. Make her feel…
“I don’t know what I’m doing…” he confessed against her skin.
“Nor do I…” she whispered back, her hand reaching up to trace tiny intricate patterns across his back. She hoped they were talking about the same thing, she hoped he wanted this to.
She hoped she wasn’t making a fool of herself…
“It’s not that simple” he sighed and rested his full weight against her shoulder. “You can see. You’ll know when you’re…doing something I like. And there’s only so much books can teach someone with my…disadvantage” his face buried further into to her neck and hair. Like he was trying to hide away.
“Do you have any idea how frustrating, how much it pains me, to have you within inches of me and all I can do…is this?”
This was strange.
Normally he was quite confident with his abilities. Not moments ago he showed off how he saw the world around him with almost arrogant levels of confidence. Most of the time she forgot he was even blind, with how capable and independent he was.
But maybe this all felt a bit much. A bit too real.
Then suddenly she felt guilty for trying to coax him further.
“We don’t have to go any further than y-“ she started before his head snapped back up to look down at her, shaking his head over and over.
“No no no no no that’s not what I’m…I definitely do. If you do that is. I’m just…apprehensive” he tripped and stumbled over his words, trying to get her to understand his unique predicament.
Then her mind spiralled to how she had helped him in the past, how she’d taught him Herbology and Potions techniques, shown him the texture of materials, guided his hand when he needed it.
And her heart sank as an idea formed in her mind.
“Ominis, Do you want to try…being intimate…with me?” She asked shakily, her hands snaking up his arm to cup his cheeks, imploring that he listen to her. Thank Merlin he was blind, or perhaps her cheeks may have blinded him with how hot they were glowing.
“Desperately…” A dry, humourless laugh left him “…it’s practically all I have thought about since the First Trail…but”
“But…” she interrupted “…I have an idea”
She took a step away from him, his head quirked curiously to the right as he sought her out. It wouldn’t take him long, her fingers gently took his and she pulled him towards the armchair he normally resided in.
“Do you remember that Divination assignment? The palm reading?” She asked gently taking his hand and absentmindedly tracing over the lines on his hand. As she did he muttered softly to himself…
“Heart Line…Life Line…Fate line…”
He recited with perfect accuracy, though that lesson was weeks ago.
Then everything clicked and his cheeks burned hotter than he’d ever felt. Or that she’d ever seen.
“Are you…suggesting you can…show me how to…” Ominis’ words were careful and calculated. He’d come this far, he wasn’t ruining everything on a simple misunderstanding.
“It’s what other couples do…” She reasoned, suddenly feeling dirty or sordid for even thinking such a thing “…Only their method is trail and error and ours would just be a little more-”
“…Hands on” he smirked.
Bastard…how is he always so…so…
“Ugh…” Evelyn groans pulling her hand away from his palm and covering her face. “…It’s all just so unromantic now I think about it” she muffled from the sanctuary behind her hands.
“Oh don’t worry…” his long fingers looped around her wrists pulling them away and to her side. He took a step closer to her, his head bowed low to meet her gaze if she wished “…I have romance covered. That’s not what I’m worried about. I just need to know you’re okay with this”
As he spoke, his thumb drew tiny circles across her palm. It was almost as though they were dancing again.
“I am…” she breathed.
The smile he then wore was unlike any she had seen before. It had a softness to it initially. Like he was pleased she trusted him and she couldn’t help but mirror it. But then the longer they stood there, swaying slightly, the harder it grew. An edge to lips she hadn’t even seen when he’d pushed her against his bed.
And whereas last time there was a nervous, sickly feeling in her gut, now there was just…need.
Want.
He spun her again as he had earlier though instead of pulling her back to the exact same position, this time he pulled her so her back pressed against his chest.
“I’m so glad you suggested this, Evelyn.” He murmured over the shell of her ear, his fingers combing the hair from one side of her neck to the other.
“I am a fast learner. I’ve already learned what you like and what you don’t like…” she could feel his breath against her neck as he whispered down to her, his cheek nuzzling against the side of her face.
“For example…”
The smug smirk that tugged at his lips was so blatant in his voice.
And before Evelyn could question him, or combat him or flirt back gently as she usually would…
His teeth dug into the flesh of her neck, just below her ear.
She bit into her lip to stop the gasp from ripping from her. But he must have known. Must’ve heard the restraint in the hitch of her breath, or the way her shoulder squared in his arms. Because his teeth pulled back and he lapped against the divots he left behind. He licked broadly up her neck to her earlobe, making her shiver. And once again his teeth were against her as he grinned.
“Don’t silence yourself…please” he purred “I need to hear you. I need to know…”
“I understa-aaah!” She choked out. His lips closed around her earlobe, suckling softly before letting it go.
“Good…” he praised and even that sent a shiver down her spine. “…you must tell me if you don’t like something…”
It felt a little like he was trying to demonstrate what he meant. Like the next thing he did, he almost expected her to say no.
But she didn’t…
And she wanted more.
His fingers came up from her waist to undo the bow around her collar. When it fell away, he tossed it to the side like it offended him. Like he had some sort of vendetta against anything that kept him from her.
Then his hands were everywhere again. One tugged at the collar he had freed whilst the other moved towards the buttons of her blouse, again freeing more of her soft flesh for him to devour.
The moment her shoulder was available his lips found it, mapping across her skin.
And she was fine for the moment.
Her breathing fast and shallow as she enjoyed his attentions but she was fine.
Calm.
Collected.
Then his lips brushed over the sensitive area between her neck and shoulder and she gasped under her breath. A tiny soft sigh of pleasure that not even she was certain she made.
But he heard…
And in response his teeth dug harshly into the muscle. And she crumpled and fell against him with a loud and needy whimper.
She felt him grin, though his teeth still sunk in. Then his cheeks hollowed and the pressure against her neck felt divine.
“Ominis…” she whimpered and pressed against him.
“Too much?” he murmured as his lips left her neck with a sinful pop.
“Not enough…” Evelyn murmured, barely able to get the words out before his teeth were on her again.
Everything ramped up.
The pressure at her neck, the speed of his fingers on her blouse. Not even he could keep up with himself as he ripped a button from the fabric, pulling it from her shoulder.
The button pinging off and cascading to the floor broke something in Ominis and he groaned.
Deep and guttural from his chest.
She felt it vibrate through her back, arching against him to feel more.
That’s when her leg stumbled back and she felt a hardened bulge press against her rear.
The tiniest amount of friction that must have put against him caused him to growl, his fingernails digging into the flesh of her stomach as his hands started to explore under her shirt.
She inhaled sharply.
And her hand flew to her wand, tucked haphazardly in her waistband, directing it towards the Undercrofts entrance.
“Colloportus” she whimpered and the light at the tip of her wand fizzled out.
Ominis’ tore himself from her neck with a groan.
“What are you doing?” He asked but his voice was heavy, husky, heady.
“I’m not having a repeat of last time…” she murmured, staring at her wand in confusion. She shook her wrist and tried again…
…as Ominis’ hand drifted lower, his fingertips delving just under her waistband.
“Collo-portus” she gasped once again the spell failing as she muttered the incantation incorrectly.
Ominis just laughed besides her ear.
“Am I rendering you speechless? Powerless?” He purred, his other hand wrapping around her.
That hand hadn’t yet touched her skin. It had remained somewhat reserved, tugging at her clothes. So when it graced the skin of her chest it was significantly cooler than his other, forcing a gasp from her lips and her skin to pucker and tingle with goosebumps.
“You’re…” she started with a flash of venom in her voice, wanting to be frustrated at him. “…just stop a second. Let me lock the gates…” she breathed.
He chuckled darkly and removed his hands from her holding them up in surrender.
“Apologies, my love.”
“You’re not sorry…” she muttered and shrugged her blouse back over her shoulder, approaching the gate with a death glare.
She tried several times to lock the gates to no avail. Her hands kept shaking, her voice breaking. And just as she was about to give up and do it the ‘old fashioned muggle way’, the mechanisms in the gate forced themselves closed with a heavy ‘clunk’.
When she turned, Ominis was sat casually in his armchair, wand extended to the gate with a smarmy grin on his lips.
She approached once again muttering under her breath.
“Shut up…”
“Oh don’t be like that…” he crooned smoothly “…I like that I’ve affected you in such a way.”
His wand twirled between his fingers as she approached and she stood before him, pouting rather obviously. He simply chuckled and tapped his lap.
“Sit…”
His commanding tone sent a shiver up her spine and her knees buckled, bending to perch upon his thigh, despite her bratty and frustrated disposition.
His arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her back again, flush to his chest. His other hand lifted her knee to rest upon his, repeating the process for her other leg as he slipped it over his own.
Then as he spread his own legs, pulling and parting her along too, a startled little mewl left her.
“Tell me to stop…” he whispered against her ear, his hand stilling against her waist
“I don’t want you to…” she breathed shakily, arching into him and once again feeling that pulsing heat pressing into her.
“You’re shaking…” he stated as though it were a reason for him to cease his tormenting.
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing”
“Oh I know…” he smirked against her neck. “…I just wanted to hear you admit it”
He knew he was probably being overconfident. But that’s what Ominis did best. He was blessed with a silver tongue and so he would use it.
So far it was working.
Each gruff grumble from his lips sent a wave of goosebumps over her skin, and his fingers followed.
She shivered and this time they prickled along her stomach where his fingers lay dormant. It shot a pulse through him, his fingers twitching back to life to explore her.
Feel her.
He was learning so much.
He already knew about the scar across her waist, he thought perhaps she would flinch when his digits brushed across them but…she was moaning again.
Her marred skin was…sensitive.
So very…very sensitive.
Then he recalled she had another. Another Sebastian had given her deep in that Scriptorium across her heart.
What a perfect excuse to test his hypothesis.
He bought his hand up and over her clothed breasts, that simple act itself causing her to shudder and whine.
So what would happen if I did this?
His middle finger traced over the swirling pattern at her chest and once again a wave of goosebumps puckered beneath him.
For a second, he almost regretted asking her to be more vocal.
Her constant shallow breath filled his ears. Her soft sighs, and whimpers were more distracting than he assumed they would be
But, oh, how those noises were heavenly.
And thankfully, he found his body acting on instinct, no matter how distracting she had become.
His hands roamed, explored, squeezed, touched…delving to places he had never dreamed of finding on her.
Mapping curves and valleys of hers he’d only ever fantasised about.
When his fingers breached the soft lacey material of her bralette, she stayed silent.
She bit into her bottom lip to try and ease her need for him. Because this was too much. How had he not even touched her and yet she was a pooled and sodden mess.
Ominis mistook her silence for displeasure, and moved further in.
The books certainly hadn’t covered this. The few points of research detailed many erogenous zones across a woman. And though he wasn’t idiotic enough to think all women were the same, most books, most erotic novels he had read said the same.
So, purely for academic purposes, he gripped her just a little bit harder.
And was rewarded with the most beautiful and sinful whimper he had heard. With that very moan came another wave of goosebumps that he greedily followed. Like her very skin was speaking to him.
Ominis squeezed again, the soft flesh of her breast spilling out between his fingers as her manhandled her in the very best of ways.
He kneaded her, much for his own pleasure as for hers, and when he felt the tiny puckered nub between his fingers, he squeezed again.
Another sharp whine pulled from Evelyn’s chest. He felt it vibrate along her chest and for a second he was enthralled.
He copied that same action, kneading and squeezing and stroking, pinching her hardening peak near his knuckle.
Only his other hand reached up to her chest. Where he’d felt that vibration.
And with every gasp and murmur and coo he felt it.
So he chased it, rumbling up her chest to her neck where it was strongest before it left her lips.
“Ominis…” she muttered as her head rolled back onto his shoulder.
“I can move my hand if you want…” he spoke, somewhat strained after he realised his fingers wrapped around her throat.
“I…like it” she whispered, somewhat shamefully.
But Ominis was well past the point of caring. He’d built such a strong image in his head of her splayed across him, keening and mewling for more. For him.
And he had the luxury of hearing, truly hearing, everything he was doing to her. Perhaps he was better off…
His fingers tightened only slightly against her throat, feeling for each rumble of a moan his other hand was causing her.
Then his mouth followed in his hands stead.
Nipping, sucking, tasting every inch of her neck that he could access, the soft and gentle tugging of her flesh turned her to putty in his arms.
It was almost like he’d caught a nerve and her whole body squirmed with a moan. And she pressed deliciously against the painful throbbing in his groin.
He hissed at the sensation, both foreign and familiar to him.
And in that moment he realised she was learning just as much about him as he was her.
Because she did it again.
On purpose.
And as he gasped, he relinquished the hold his teeth had on her shoulder, panting against the wet skin of her neck.
So she did it again, rubbing herself across the length that was forced down his trouser leg, thanking every god there was that multiple layers of clothing were between them. Lest she be confronted with the slick she most definitely would leave upon his leg.
He gasped again, croakier and huskier than before.
And she laughed. A low seductive little laugh that triggered something in Ominis.
“Show me…” he demanded with a growl, snatching her wrist up and dragging it to her opened legs.
Perhaps she was a little too eager. He’d spent the past…Merlin knows how long, teasing her and her body ached. Her stomach had twisted and tightened with a desire she’d never felt before. Even when she was alone.
So she fumbled with his hand in hers, his other still tweaking and kneading at her soft mounds.
He ghosted over hers, softly, delicately copying her movements as she pulled her underwear to the side.
Then his hand left, straying to the fabric of her skirt, bunched around her hips.
“This is long enough, isn’t it?” He inquired flatly.
“Er…it’s comes to my knee why do you-“
Then he tore into her underwear, ripping along the gusset and exposing her completely. Whether he knew it or not, his knuckle dragged over her centre as he did and she twitched at the new feeling of someone else touching her so intimately.
“This will be hard enough without things getting in the way” his voice resonated from behind her, his chest vibrating against her back.
That was…understandable. And she would be lying to herself if the act of Ominis ripping her underwear from her didn’t turn her into a living puddle.
And it was getting ridiculous how long this had gone on for. So she snatched his hand from the hem of her skirt and positioned him over her again.
His hand mirrored hers the whole way. Like there was a second delay to everything she was doing.
Though when her finger dipped between her folds, and his shortly followed, he snatched his hand away in an instant, bolting straight upright. His finger and thumb rubbed together feeling her slick desire on his finger and his breath caught in his throat.
“You’re…” he held a note on his throat like he couldn’t think of the correct word. The appropriate word.
“…so…” he gulped and swallowed thickly, the bob of his throat brushing against her shoulder
“…wet…”
And whilst he was struggling to think of words, Evelyn was struggling to not run her finger along herself like she knew she liked.
“For you…” she murmured on an exhale.
Ominis could feel himself twitching against her rear and again something snapped within him.
His arm scooped her up around her waist, pulling her closer and tighter to his chest.
“Show me…” he growled once more in her ear before his teeth attacked her neck once again.
His finger ghosted over hers again, shaking as they dipped into that pooling well of want.
Her fingers twitched back into action, immediately finding that bundle of nerves at the top that made her toes curl.
And made Ominis’ head spin.
Whether it was his hearing, how well they knew each other, or how quickly he picked things up when explained properly, he didn’t know. But soon he got the idea of what she wanted. And she was going too quickly for his liking.
He could feel her winding and coiling like a spring in his lap, her panting little breaths filling the air and his name tumbling from her lips. She writhed and whimpered on top of him.
Then suddenly his mind filled with fabrications of himself being deep inside of her, those same noises tumbling from her. That’s same warmth he could feel radiating on his finger, surrounding him. And his brain went foggy and instinct kicked in again.
Just as she reached and clambered for that peak.
And her thighs clamped closed for that little friction she knew would push her over the edge.
He ruined it.
All at once it was torn from her as long boney fingers dug into the softness of her thighs, pinning her eager hand to the side and spreading her legs once again.
She could’ve killed him.
“Keep. Them. Open.” he spat through his teeth, moving his leg to pin her ankles behind his calves. She gave a few tester pulls, desperate for any form of friction as she felt that heat slowly dying between her legs.
She couldn’t move.
And her breath stuttered and whimpered needily. She was about to cuss him, turning and demanding he continue before that knot tied itself back up again.
But Ominis had other ideas. Ideas that perhaps right now she wouldn’t appreciate but future her would.
His fingers trailed over her core mapping every fold and divot. Easily. He slid in between over and over, delighting in every time his finger circled that nub that sent her shivering.
Then his finger slipped down, deep, entering her slowly. Carefully.
He almost felt bad for a second. The noise that left her. It sounded pained. But he pulled from her and that same needy mewling spilled from her until he did it again, her back arching into him. And this time it wasn’t so pained, more of an anguished sigh of relief.
It was…delicious.
Every sinful sound from her lips and each soaked ripple between her legs. He was simply exploring yet to her it was everything.
Him feeling her
Him pleasuring her
Him filling her.
With each pump of his finger she felt that knot loosening once more and when his other hand joined his first, rolling tiny circles over her most sensitive spot…she halted.
She became undone.
That release so close to being hers.
And he knew it.
“Let me see…” he begged, his hand pulling from her and hovering just in front of her face, his thumb replacing his own absence with dexterous accuracy.
She pushed into his hand, not trusting her vocal cords to maintain a readable level. Imagine the Undercroft being discovered after centuries because she had moaned too loudly.
His fingers drifted over her features, taking in the small knot of exquisite ecstasy on her brow. The heat from her cheeks. Her swollen, plump lips from her own teeth.
And as his finger ghosted her lips she took it into her mouth, tasting her own desire faintly on his finger. Not that, that’s why. She just needed something to mute her…
Practically crying into his ear, her head lulled back as she mumbled his name through her own teeth clamped around his fingers.
A comfortable warm silence fell over them as she slowly recovered, the white spots of her vision fading. Only then was she aware of the gentle kisses he placed along her neck.
“Why…” she panted “…are you so good at everything you choose to do?”
He chuckled, deep and low.
“I had an excellent albeit impatient teacher”
Masterlist
genuinely if any of you have any tips or anything please tell me this genuine pained me to write but im proud my first smut
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sicutpuella · 10 months
Text
Desiderium [Tom Riddle x Original Character]
Chapter 1: nuit de février
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In the outskirts of Provence, France, on a February evening in the year 1951, an air of enchantment permeated the countryside. Nestled amidst the rolling hills, a grand chateau stood as a beacon of refinement and grandeur. Adorned in exquisite finery, every detail meticulously attended to, the sprawling estate emanated an aura of timeless elegance. As dusk descended upon the land, casting a golden hue upon the snow-covered landscape, the chateau's lights shimmered with a radiance that rivaled the celestial stars above. Their warm glow cascaded through the windows, casting a spell of enchantment upon all who beheld the spectacle.
The atmosphere was filled with anticipation as carriages, resplendent in their regal splendor, made their stately procession towards the chateau's entrance. Each arrival added to the symphony of murmured conversations and tinkling laughter that echoed through the frosty air. The gardens, too, had not been spared from the touch of whimsical enchantment. The carefully manicured flora, bedecked with delicate frost and a dusting of snow, created a magical tableau. Twinkling lights were carefully woven amidst the branches of ancient trees, casting a soft, ethereal glow that danced in harmony with the falling snowflakes.
Within the chateau's walls, guests mingled amidst opulent salons adorned with gilded tapestries and magnificent chandeliers. Laughter, tinged with the echoes of clinking glasses, filled the air as conversations flowed like a melodic symphony of shared stories and whispered secrets.
In this grand setting, the evening unfolded with a grace befitting the majesty of the surroundings. The guests, their attire a tapestry of refined elegance, moved through the chateau's halls with an air of sophistication and charm. The soft notes of a grand piano accompanied their every step, lending an ethereal soundtrack to the festivities.
As the night wore on, the allure of the chateau's splendor captivated all who beheld it. The snowflakes continued their gentle descent, weaving a veil of enchantment over the landscape. The grandeur of the scene, the delicate interplay of light and snow, whispered of timeless beauty and the promise of unforgettable memories.
And so, in this idyllic setting on that fateful February evening, the grand chateau stood as a testament to the power of elegance and refinement. Its magnificence, embellished by the softly falling snow and the twinkle of a thousand lights, created an ethereal world where dreams and reality intertwined, casting a spell upon all who had the privilege to partake in its grandeur.
From the depths of a carriage emerged a vision of elegance and poise. As the door swung open, a woman alighted with grace, her every movement imbued with an innate sense of refinement. Cascading down her back, her crimson tresses were styled with meticulous care, their lustrous waves framing a countenance of ethereal beauty.
Clad in a gown of regal allure, she wore a shade of dark royal blue that enveloped her form with a beguiling charm. The neckline of her evening attire ascended gracefully, drawing attention to her slender, swan-like neck that held an air of elegance and grace. The absence of sleeves allowed her long and graceful arms to be exposed, captivating the onlookers with their sheer loveliness. A white-fur cover-up adorned her shoulders, adding a touch of luxurious warmth to the ensemble. Her attire, though modest, possessed a subtle sensuality that hinted at the allure lying just beneath the surface. The back of her gown, tastefully revealed, offered a glimpse of her radiant skin, evoking a sense of both mystery and desire. The delicate balance struck between modesty and allure painted her as a woman of refined taste and captivating beauty.
The woman's features were a testament to her natural loveliness. Her makeup, light and delicately applied, enhanced rather than masked her inherent grace. Her electric blue eyes, the very windows to her soul, shimmered with a blend of nervousness and charm, captivating all who had the privilege of meeting her gaze. Her every expression, every flutter of her lashes, conveyed a delicate vulnerability that only served to enhance her appeal.
Amidst the grandeur and opulence that surrounded her, she stood, radiating a captivating aura that drew admiring glances from all who beheld her presence. Though there lingered a hint of nervousness, a touch of awkwardness in her demeanor, it only served to accentuate her natural beauty, making her all the more endearing.
As the noble and revered Domitius Rosier caught sight of his daughter entering the grand halls, his eyes alight with unmistakable delight. His commanding presence, tall and dignified, matched her own in stature, for she stood only a few inches shorter than her esteemed father. A man of striking countenance, his features exuded an undeniable allure. His light-blonde hair, touched with traces of silver, framed a visage that had weathered the passing years with grace, further enhancing his handsomeness and charm. With an ethereal bone structure and an air of regality, he stood as a testament to the timeless appeal of his lineage.
"Ah, Claudia, my beloved daughter!" Domitius voice carried a note of sheer elation as he greeted her. His eyes, mirroring the mesmerizing electric blue hue of her own, twinkled with paternal pride and unbridled joy. Eagerly, he closed the distance between them, his arms outstretched in anticipation of their long-awaited reunion.
"Father! How I've longed for this moment!" Claudia's voice, filled with warmth and affection, rang out as she embraced him tenderly. The bond between them was undeniable, a testament to the profound love they shared as father and daughter. In that embrace, time seemed to stand still, and the grand chateau faded into the background, leaving only the cherished connection between them.
Their reunion was a symphony of love and joy, their voices intertwining in laughter and heartfelt conversation. As they moved gracefully through the opulent halls of the chateau, their shared happiness permeated the air, casting a radiant glow upon all who witnessed their familial bond. The grand chateau, with its resplendent décor and majestic ambiance, became the backdrop to a cherished moment between a father and his daughter. Amidst the flickering candlelight and the whispers of enchantment, their love and connection shone brightly, a beacon of warmth and tenderness in a world filled with fleeting moments.
“At least, you weren’t late!” Domitius gently teases his daughter.
"I am honored to be present for this joyous occasion, Father," Claudia replied, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. She glanced around the room, taking in the sight of the esteemed guests and the palpable aura of importance that surrounded them. Tonight was not just any ordinary wedding; it was a gathering of influential figures, where political allegiances were forged and strengthened.
Domitius chuckled softly, his voice tinged with amusement. "Ah, my dear Claudia, punctuality is indeed a virtue that runs deep in our bloodline. I am glad you have inherited that trait from me." His eyes sparkled with affection as he placed a hand on her arm, guiding her through the bustling crowd. "But it is not just punctuality that makes this evening special. It is the union of two great families, the intertwining of destinies, and the forging of alliances that will shape the course of our future."
As they strolled along the gilded corridors, their steps echoing softly against the marbled floor, Claudia listened intently to her father's words. His wisdom and guidance had always been a beacon in her life, grounding her amidst the tumultuous storms that came with their esteemed name.
"Father, I cannot help but feel a mixture of excitement and… dread," Claudia confessed, her voice tinged with vulnerability.
Domitius’ gaze softened, and he placed a hand on her cheek, a gesture filled with paternal reassurance. "My dear Claudia, you have always been a source of pride for me. Your strength and intelligence shine brightly, and I have no doubt that you will carry our family's legacy with honor. But remember, my child, that even in the face of great responsibilities, you must never lose sight of your own happiness and fulfillment. Your heart should guide you as much as your intellect."
Claudia nodded, absorbing her father's words of wisdom. She understood the delicate balance between duty and personal desires, and she vowed to find harmony within herself. The burden of their name may be weighty, but she refused to let it overshadow her own dreams and aspirations.
"Thank you, Father," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "Your guidance and unwavering support mean the world to me."
Domitius smiled warmly, his eyes shimmering with love. "You are my greatest joy, Claudia. Remember that, always."
Among the sea of esteemed guests, Claudia Rosier stood tall and regal, her crimson gown accentuating her elegant stature. Her eyes shimmered with a mixture of excitement and curiosity as she observed the gathering. This was not merely a social affair; it was a convergence of power and influence, where alliances were forged and secrets exchanged beneath the guise of polite conversation.
As she made her way through the grand hall, Claudia's gaze alighted upon the familiar faces of Ministry members, seasoned politicians, and influential figures of pureblood society. The room seemed to come alive with the whispered conversations and laughter of those who held the keys to power. It was a world she had been born into, a world where connections and lineage held great sway.
Her eyes briefly met those of Armand Malfoy, a figure of great importance within the pureblood circles. The intensity in his gaze spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment of their shared heritage and the intricate web of blood ties that bound their families together. Claudia couldn't help but wonder about the complexities that lay beneath the surface, the unspoken alliances and unbreakable loyalties that governed their world.
Amidst the sea of influential guests, Claudia's attention was caught by the presence of rich old purebloods. They exude an air of privilege and entitlement, their names etched into the annals of pureblood history. Their wrinkled faces and weathered hands spoke of a lifetime spent in pursuit of power and wealth, their very presence a testament to the enduring legacy of their bloodlines.
As she gracefully moved through the crowd, Claudia engaged in polite conversation with acquaintances and family friends. She spoke with eloquence and confidence, her intelligence and charm evident in every word she uttered. Yet, beneath her composed facade, there was a flicker of restlessness, a longing to make her mark on a world that often felt suffocating in its traditions and expectations.
She observed her father, conversing effortlessly with influential figures. His commanding presence and charisma commanded respect, his words holding weight and authority. Claudia couldn't help but feel a swell of pride, knowing that she was his daughter, a reflection of his legacy and the aspirations he had instilled within
As they moved through the grand hall, the whispered conversations and admiring glances followed in their wake. Claudia's crimson tresses, her regal bearing, and the air of sophistication that enveloped her drew the attention of many. Yet, beneath the surface, she was aware of the expectations placed upon her, the burden of her family's legacy. It was a world where appearances were everything, and Claudia knew she had to navigate the treacherous waters with finesse and tact.
As Domitius led her further into the heart of the festivities, Claudia steeled herself for the challenges that lay ahead. She knew that within this grand gathering, there were alliances to be forged, secrets to be discovered, and ambitions to be pursued. The evening promised more than just a celebration of love; it was an arena where power, influence, and destiny converged.
As they approached the heart of the gathering, Claudia's eyes alighted upon the bride and groom.
In the grand ballroom of the opulent estate, the wedding of Allectus Rosier and Lucretia Black was a spectacle that had been meticulously orchestrated. It was a union not solely born out of love, but a strategic alliance between two prominent pureblood families. The Rosiers and the Blacks, both esteemed and powerful, sought to strengthen their ties and preserve their ancient lineage.
In the opulent ballroom, Allectus Rosier stood amidst the gathering, his presence commanding attention. The flickering candlelight accentuated the chiseled features of his face, casting shadows that only heightened the allure of his masculine beauty. His deep-set, electric blue eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, inviting those who dared to meet his gaze into a world of mystery and intrigue.
As he moved with a grace and confidence that bespoke his noble lineage, Allectus drew the attention of all in his path. His impeccable sense of style, showcased through his tailored attire, bespoke a man who understood the power of appearance and how it could captivate the minds and hearts of those around him. With every step he took, the whispers of admiration followed, like the gentle rustle of silk against marble.
Beside him, Lucretia, resplendent in her wedding gown, exuded an ethereal grace that complemented Allectus's commanding presence. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, cascading like a waterfall of obsidian, and her dark eyes held a hint of mystery. While her beauty was undeniable, it was the underlying knowledge that this union was forged for the preservation of bloodlines that cast a veil of complexity over her delicate features.
The guests marveled at the sight before them, marveling at the union of two individuals whose physical beauty seemed divinely ordained. But hidden beneath the façade of this arranged marriage, were the intricacies of their familial obligations and societal expectations. It was a delicate dance, where duty and desire intertwined, and the future of two great houses hung in the balance.
As the ceremony progressed, the solemn vows were exchanged, sealing the union of Allectus Rosier and Lucretia Black.
The grandeur of the reception hall was ablaze with the glittering chandeliers and the lively chatter of the esteemed guests. Claudia, beaming with pride for her brother's successful nuptials, made her way through the crowd to congratulate him. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she playfully teased Allectus, her beloved sibling.
"Congratulations, dear brother! You managed to look decent tonight, finally," Claudia jested, her voice laced with affectionate banter. She held her brother's arm and leaned in closer, a conspiratorial glint in her eyes. "And Lucretia, my dear sister-in-law, you look absolutely splendid. I hope you have a stash of potions to counteract any potential headaches from dealing with him," she teased, a playful smile adorning her lips.
As Claudia exchanged pleasantries with her family, a familiar voice cut through the air. Turning her head swiftly, she beheld her cousin, Abraxas Malfoy, his presence commanded attention, his poise and demeanor oozing with aristocratic elegance.
The soft glow of the chandeliers played upon Abraxas' bright white-blond hair, each strand meticulously arranged to perfection. Not a strand dared to be out of place, for it knew its role in accentuating his otherworldly features. His sharp, piercing gaze, like the blade of a silver rapier, met Claudia's eyes with an unwavering intensity.
With a smile that danced upon her lips, Claudia stepped forward to greet her cousin. The warmth in her eyes was mirrored in her voice as she extended her hand in greeting. "Ah, Abraxas, it is a pleasure to see you again," she said, her words carrying a genuine warmth and affection.
Abraxas, ever the epitome of refinement, reciprocated her greeting with a nod, acknowledging her presence. His pale, icy-blue eyes met hers.
She extended her hand towards Abraxas, a gesture of kinship and shared heritage. The group of pureblood friends surrounding him, including Mulciber, Nott, Lestrange, and others, exuded an air of sophistication and privilege, much like Claudia and her brother.
However, as her gaze swept the room, Claudia's eyes locked onto a figure that sent a chill down her spine. Tom Riddle, a man of enigmatic allure, stood apart from the revelry, his presence both captivating and unnerving. The room seemed to darken ever so slightly as Claudia's gaze met his piercing eyes.
Claudia's eyes couldn't help but be drawn to him, as if he possessed an invisible pull that captivated her gaze. It wasn't just his striking appearance that caught her attention, but the way he carried himself with an air of confidence and intelligence. Tom Riddle seemed to possess an otherworldly charm, his features perfectly chiseled and his movements graceful.
His dark, curly hair framed his face in a way that accentuated his piercing, intelligent eyes. The slight curl at the ends of his locks added a touch of effortless elegance. His cheekbones were sculpted, giving his face a refined and aristocratic look. There was an enigmatic quality about him that left Claudia intrigued, as if there were depths of complexity hidden beneath his attractive exterior.
As Tom Riddle moved through the crowd, conversing with various guests, Claudia couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he commanded attention and respect. His words were articulate and thoughtful, drawing people in with his wit and charm. It seemed that even her brother, Allectus, and her cousin, Abraxas Malfoy, both known for their own good looks, paled in comparison to Tom Riddle's magnetic presence.
Claudia's curiosity grew, and she found herself longing to engage in conversation with this enigmatic figure. She observed the way he carried himself, the way he made others feel important and valued. It was as if he possessed a charisma that extended beyond mere physical appearance, captivating the hearts and minds of those around him.
“Cat got your tongue?” Abraxas noticed how his cousin Claudia seemed to stiffen up a bit upon seeing Tom.
“Ah! Lest we not forget your little show back when you were what… 11?” Allectus chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. The mention of that particular memory elicited a brief flashback in Claudia's mind, transporting her back to her first year at Hogwarts.
She could vividly recall the scene in the Slytherin common room, bathed in the dim glow of the firelight, where Tom Marvolo Riddle, then a sixth-year prefect, had been surrounded by a crowd of admirers. The Slytherin Quidditch team, basking in the glory of their recent victory, had flocked around him like moths to a flame. Claudia, a wide-eyed first-year filled with youthful infatuation, had watched from a distance, her heart aflutter with anticipation.
Summoning her courage, she approached him, her delicate footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor. In her hand, she clutched a folded piece of parchment, its edges slightly creased from her anxious grip. In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only her and the enigmatic figure of Tom Riddle before her. Her heart raced, her palms grew clammy, but her determination propelled her forward.
"Hello, Tom Riddle!" she had exclaimed, her voice quivering yet filled with a resolute innocence that belied her tender age. The room fell silent, every eye fixed upon the brave young girl who dared to express her affections so openly.
"I am Claudia," she continued, her words tumbling out in a rush, like a cascade of pearls from a broken necklace. "I know that you and my brother, Allectus, are good friends, but I... I cannot help myself, Tom Riddle. My heart beats faster whenever you are near. I like you, Tom Riddle. I like you more than treacle tart, more than sugar, more than the finest chocolates from Honeydukes! I like you with every fiber of my being!"
The common room held its breath, the air pregnant with anticipation. Claudia's cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, her doe-like eyes shining with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. Her innocent declaration of love hung in the air, as fragile and delicate as a butterfly's wings.
Tom Riddle, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, regarded her with a mixture of surprise and gentleness. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her body, as if she had been touched by magic itself. His voice, like the soft whisper of the wind through the trees, was warm and reassuring. "Claudia, I must commend you for your sheer courage and honesty. Your feelings are not unappreciated, but I fear I cannot return them in the same manner. Please do not take this the wrong way. You possess incredible qualities that will undoubtedly captivate someone worthy of your love."
Though Claudia's heart sank at his words, she admired his response, understanding the truth in his gentle rejection. Tom had handled her confession with grace and compassion, preserving her dignity and shielding her from the potential ridicule of their peers.
"Thank you, Tom Riddle," she whispered, her voice filled with a bittersweet acceptance. "I appreciate your honesty and value our friendship above all else. Let us continue to support one another, as fellow Slytherins and as friends."
Tom's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting a fleeting glimpse of regret. "Claudia, you are a remarkable young witch. Never doubt your worth or the impact you can make in this world. Your bravery and resilience will take you far. Remember, love comes in many forms and at different times. The right person will appreciate the extraordinary person you are."
With those words, he gently released his hold on her shoulder, allowing her to retreat from the center of attention.
Claudia, now standing amidst the glamorous wedding celebration, smiled softly at the memory. How young and innocent she had been, captivated by Tom Riddle's allure even then. But time had passed, and Claudia understood that. She shook off the reverie, returning her attention to her teasing cousin and brother. "Oh, hush, you two!" Claudia replied with a playful pout. "That was ages ago, and we were but children. Let us focus on celebrating Allectus and Lucretia's joyous union tonight."
“Ah, Claudia, dear cousin, you never fail to provide us with delightful memories!” Abraxas chuckled, his bright blonde hair cascading around his face like a halo. He exchanged a knowing glance with Allectus, their eyes gleaming with mischief.
Allectus, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, added, "Indeed, Claudia, we must commend your courage. Confessing your undying affection for Tom Riddle in front of the entire Slytherin house! A moment that shall forever be etched in our memories."
Nott and Lestrange, who had been standing nearby, couldn't resist joining in on the teasing. Nott, his voice dripping with sarcasm, remarked, "Oh, Claudia, how fortunate we were to witness such a heartfelt declaration of love! I dare say it rivaled the most dramatic scenes in plays."
Lestrange, his eyes twinkling with amusement, interjected, "Indeed! I shall never forget the stunned silence that followed your confession. It was as if the very air held its breath in anticipation of Tom Riddle's response." Claudia, though initially taken aback by their teasing, soon found herself joining in the mirth. "Oh, do cease your mockery, my dear companions!" she playfully retorted.
As the bustling crowd began to simmer down, Claudia found herself seated beside her cousin, Abraxas. They exchanged warm smiles, their conversation a testament to the enduring bond shared between them.
"I've heard you're working with the Ministry of Wizarding Law Enforcement now!" Abraxas exclaimed, genuine pride gleaming in his eyes. He was delighted to see Claudia flourishing in her professional life, ascending the ranks of the magical world. Claudia's cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, her modesty shining through despite her accomplishments.
"And I've heard you and your wife have been blessed with a pregnancy!" Claudia's voice rang out, her eyes sparkling with genuine joy. The news of their impending parenthood had reached her ears through the whispered gossip of high society, and she could not contain her excitement.
Abraxas, ever the astute conversationalist, skillfully redirected the topic, a playful glint in his eyes. "Ah, don't change the subject, dear cousin," he quipped, a sly smile playing upon his lips. "But yes, we have indeed been blessed with the gift of a child.”
Claudia's attention returned to the matter at hand, a graceful smile gracing her features. "Oh, it's nothing extraordinary," she replied, her voice a melodious blend of humility and pride. "Recently, I have been entrusted with a significant role in the Ministry, tasked with the creation and refinement of laws concerning magical artifacts.”
Abraxas nodded approvingly, acknowledging her accomplishments. "Ah, the intricate world of legislation and governance," he remarked, his voice laced with admiration. "I have always known that your intellect and tenacity would lead you to great heights.”
Before she could delve deeper into her recent ventures, she was interrupted by the familiar voice that had once stirred her soul. It was Tom Riddle, the enigmatic figure whose presence had ignited a flame within her young heart. His entrance, marked by an aura of charm and confidence, drew the attention of all who were fortunate enough to witness it.
"My, my, my... Claudia Rosier," he spoke, his voice laced with a hint of amusement and genuine admiration. "It has been far too long since our paths last crossed, and yet, in that time, you have accomplished so much. I must offer my sincerest congratulations."
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houseofceline · 4 months
Text
My Pretty Girl - T.N.
Foreign Touches and Breakfast in Bed
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Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott
Warnings: Asshole Theo?
Summary: You wish you never woke up.
Author's Note: Hey guys! It's been a while, sorry for the wait but here it is!
< 6
__________________
“How much did you even drink last night?” Cho cringed holding your hair back as another round of vomit spewed out of you and into the toilet. You could feel your head pounding as you sat on the bathroom floor trying to calm yourself down. Waking up to a hangover and your period may be the worst combination known to man, or really women. Thankfully there were no classes today. 
“Too much,” you breathed in and out, making sure there was nothing else coming up. 
“Come on, we need to go to breakfast, you need to eat something.” Cho tried helping you up as you gripped onto the sink for support. 
You were not ready to go out in public like this. Bed hair, snippets of last night makeup look in the form of smothered mascara on your cheek, and a million knives stabbing your uterus. Definitely not a pretty sight. Plus, you did not want to see any of the boys after last night incase of something embarrassing you might’ve done while out of it. 
“I don’t wanna go,” you groaned as you flopped on your bed and curled up into a fetal position. 
“You have to eat something Y/n,” Cho spoke softly as she ran her fingers through your hair, trying to flatten it. 
“I’ll eat later.” You grumbled closing your eyes, menstruation already tiring you out. 
“I’ll be back,” Cho said as she left the room, but you were too tired to say anything as you slipped away to dreamland.
___________________
A foreign touch on his chest causes Theo to stir awake in confusion. 
What the hell.
He blinked a few times, allowing his vision to clear up.
Seeing the fake blonde from last night he groaned. 
“Why are you still here?” He mumbled, swatting her hand away from him as he scooted further away from her. 
“What do you mean baby? We don’t have classes today silly,” Hannah replied as she sat up, still nude from late night activities. 
“Right, so the last thing I want on a free day is to see your face. Get out.” Theo mumbled hoping she’d leave so he could sleep so more.
“Theo baby, don’t be so mean,” she spoke, reaching out for him again causing Theo to sit up in a huff. 
“You know the deal, you were supposed to be out before I even woke up,” he ignored the nasty feeling of her calling him cringey pet names. 
“Theo we don’t have to be like this.”
“My name is Theodore,” he stated as he got up and got dressed. 
He sighed as he picked up her clothing items off the floor and threw them at her. 
“I’m leaving since you won’t. But I advise you to wake up before Malfoy does, you know he doesn’t like you.” Theo said as he walked out, ignoring the gasps of surprise when her bra landed in her face. 
What an annoying girl. 
He walked to the Great Hall, deciding that he might as well grab breakfast since he was awake. 
“Did you fuckers seriously eat all the sausages?” Theo scoffed as he took a seat in front of Mattheo. 
“What the fuck did you want me to eat? Those nasty ass muffins?” Blaise replied as he passed a goblet of orange juice to him. 
“HEY! They’re not nasty,” Lorenzo spoke up with crumbs falling out of his mouth. 
“Buddy you’re getting it all over me,” Mattheo shoved the boy next to him with a scoff before glancing over at Theo. 
“Fun night huh?” Mattheo raised a glass towards the bruise-like mark on Theo’s neck. 
“Fuck are you serious?” Theo groaned as he rubbed the side of his neck. 
“I knew I’d regret it, she’s been so possessive lately,” Theo rolled his eyes as he continued eating breakfast. 
“Well I mean you’re always going back to her, maybe she thinks something will happen between the two of you,” Mattheo responded while Theo laughed in response. 
“She’s a Hufflepuff, you know only Slytherin girls are worth dating.” 
Mattheo frowned as Lorenzo looked up from his breakfast.
The whole table fell silent as Lorenzo finished chewing his muffin, “Y/n’s a Ravenclaw. I don’t think she lacks anything compared to Slytherin girls.” 
“Yeah in fact I think she looked better than any Slytherin girl last night,” Mattheo mumbled, causing Theo to look up in surprise. 
“She was there?” He gaped, suddenly feeling like he was going to throw up. 
Lorenzo rolled his eyes knowing that Theo had no right to even care if she was there or not. Mattheo and him had begun to care for the girl as if she was their baby sister and at first they were rooting for Theo, but now they weren’t so sure anymore. They had thought that she could be the one to make Theo better. After all it was him who had shown interest first, it was him who had begun to change because of her. She was the first girl Theo had ever described without using compliments that didn’t mean anything. Never spoke about how hot her body was instead ranted to the two boys about how angelic her face looked while she studied and how she smelled like flowers and vanilla. Not only cared about what was on the outside but on the inside as well, bragging to the boys about how talented she was and how cool her nail designs were. That is the same boy who had his eyes set on someone else last night, and the thought of it even made Lorenzo want to either cry or punch him. 
“Yeah but don’t worry, she didn’t need your company,” Lorenzo scoffed as he continued to eat his breakfast again. 
Lorenzo isn’t the type of person to show any resentment or hold any grudges, so Theo definitely knew he might’ve messed up. 
But before Theo could say anything, a familiar face approached up behind Mattheo and Lorenzo. 
Following Theo’s gaze the two boys turned around and greeted the girl. 
“Chang! What’s up?” Lorenzo greeted happily, a complete 180 switch in tone. 
“Hey boys, I’m grabbing breakfast for Y/n since she doesn’t feel well and I thought seeing your faces would cheer her up,” Cho explained as she showed them her plate of chocolate chip muffins. 
Theo furrowed his eyebrows, “Is she okay? Is she sick?” 
Cho rolled her eyes at the boy who caused her best friend to come back to the dorms sobbing her eyes out. She didn’t even know Theo that well but as she watched Y/n clutch her heart as she cried in her arms, she felt as if the boy had broken her heart as well. 
“She's fine as if it’s any of your concern,” Cho brushed Theo’s questions away as she avoided any eye contact with him. 
Lorenzo and Mattheo didn’t bother coming to his defense but instead got up and grabbed some juice and fruit before following Cho. 
Theo looked down at his plate and suddenly didn’t feel very hungry anymore. Blaise sighed before patting his mate’s back in comfort while Theo pushed his food around. 
Maybe he deserved that. 
2K notes · View notes
distantdarlings · 5 months
Text
HOUSE PRIDE // t. nott
RATING: R / 3.8K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert
+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theo is pissed that you seem to be interested in other guys. The two of you are not officially dating so you find it ridiculous that you can't talk to whomever you want. You have feelings for Theo, though, and think it might be interesting to put his jealousy to the test.
+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Heavy sexual material, degradation, name-calling, jealousy, fem reader, language, dom!Theo--honestly, this is just depraved
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
Pyramids - Frank Ocean
---
You pressed your face to your hands, breathing deeply. You couldn’t believe what you were fucking hearing. The pounding in your head refused to subside as he kept demanding an answer.
“Hello? Do you wanna explain why you were practically throwing yourself on Riddle today at lunch?” the brunette demanded, his eyes widened and wild. Your hands dropped and you made eye contact with the boy. You were in disbelief.
“Throwing myself at him? You dick, I tripped and fell on him! That’s just number one! Number two: you are not my fucking boyfriend,” you shouted, “I can throw myself on whoever I want, whenever I want!”
Theo locked his jaw and pursed his lips slightly. A tell of his that meant he was very angry. He didn’t usually speak much after he pushed past this point. More like, just crossed his arms and stared at you, eye bordering on twitching. You scoffed and held your hands out, waiting for a response from him. He said nothing.
“I don’t need you to tell me who to give attention to, Theo. You are not my boyfriend, I am not your girlfriend. I tripped and fell against Mattheo this morning and we both laughed it off, so why can’t you?”
“You just tripped and fell on him and his hands landed on your ass? Oh, whoops, just an accident!” he mocked you. 
“I don’t know if his hands were on my ass or not, he may have been trying to stabilize me as quickly as he could—but besides the point, who gives a fuck if he was touching my ass? It’s not like you’ve been too eager to do anything anytime soon!” you shout, blood rushing through your ears and cheeks. Shit. You did not mean to say that. His head shot back and his eyes widened slightly. You kept the anger imprinted on your face to attempt to hide the embarrassment you were feeling so strongly. Hopefully, he would think this was a super-confident confession written in a rage. Still, he said nothing.
“Oh, forget it! To hell with you, Theo!” you screamed, grabbing your robes and running out of his dorm room. He said nothing and made no move to stop you. Your feet carried you down the hallway and into your own room. 
None of your roommates were here. You figured they were all in different dorms, preparing for the common room party in a few hours. Once every couple of months, some of the Slytherins—usually seniors—will get together and prepare a “house” party. They’re always fun, high-energy, and filled to the brim with Slytherin pride. Merlin, you loved them. 
You had originally declined to go tonight. You had some leftover work that was due on Monday and you almost thought that Theo would invite you to Hogsmeade or something, but you should have known better than that. It seems all he’s concerned about is his reputation. 
You tugged through the buttons on your uniform top and ripped it off your shoulders. You pulled your skirt and socks off, holding the end of your bed for balance. There were a couple of nice outfits shoved in the trunk beneath the bedframe—you figured something in there would do. You reached up and let your hair down from its elastic, allowing it to fall to its natural length. The ends of the waved strands tickled your skin as you yanked the trunk into the open. Inside were a couple of different combinations, all saved up for special occasions. And if anyone asked you, making Theo Nott as jealous as you possibly could was a very special occasion. 
Your eyes fell on a specific top. A long sleeve, skin-tight sweetheart neckline that plunged a little deeper than it should, and a flared, darkened skirt. You reckoned it was simple and sexy. It practically bled Theo’s name all over your body, claiming you as his, though you pretended like you hated that. He never needed to know it, but you secretly loved how jealous he became when you had the smallest interactions with other people. You blow a curled hair out of your face. The fucker could have been running down the halls with a red tapestry taped to his back and you still wouldn’t call him a red flag. He was just what you wanted; what you’d wanted for years. Whether or not he’d ever actually act on your feelings for each other, you belonged to him and he belonged to you. 
You slipped the outfit on, mussed up your hair a bit, and applied a light layer of makeup. With the two tests, three project due dates, and eighteen assignments you’d had this week, you could use a bit of a touch-up. Hopefully, you didn’t sweat it off by the end of the night—though, that was sort of the goal.
You grabbed your wand and slipped it into your back pocket, patting it twice for good luck, and pushed through the dorm door. Down the hallway, you could hear the faint pounding of music. Your heart raced, keeping in time with the deep bass pushing past the walls. Was this a good idea? For a few moments, you stood in front of your door, pondering your options. Your plan for this evening could either end really well or really badly or you could avoid the possibilities completely and stay in like you originally planned. A deep sigh left you as your eyes slid closed. Who cared? This was your life and, you’d said it earlier, Theo was not your boyfriend and you intended on finishing what you’d started with Mattheo earlier this morning.
Deep cool colors swirled throughout the common room, echoing off of every shadow and highlight in the moulding. Everywhere you looked there was another Slytherin scarf or Quidditch team hat. One boy even wore a Slytherin flag around his neck like a cape. You laughed at the absurd outfit. These parties were most definitely one of the best things about being a Slytherin. Say what you will about the house, but they could throw a fucking party. 
You slid through swaying bodies, feeling the bass echo deep in your chest, rattling your ribcage. A couple of your friends were scattered throughout the crowd and slipped in gracefully with their personal friends. As you passed by them, they waved or flashed you a bright smile, all of which you returned. You would come back and talk but, for now, you were looking for someone specific. 
There was a table set up in front of the fireplace, decked out with green and black decorations, and overflowing with tall glasses of firewhisky. Your eyes skated along the length of the furniture until it reached a familiar body. You smirked and grabbed a drink before making your way over.
Enzo stood against the edge of the table, discussing something with one of the “bartenders.” When you stopped in front of him, his lips ceased and his eyes found your chest, then your eyes. His lips remained parted. Sweet, sweet Enzo. 
“Hey, En, I was wondering if you’d seen Mattheo, anywhere?” you smiled. He said nothing for a few seconds before stuttering back to life like an old car. 
“Uh, no, I haven’t seen him anywhere…uh, why do you need—um, I mean, did you need to talk to him?” he stumbled, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets. The boy he’d been talking to—some fifth-year—snorted and rolled his eyes, turning away from the two of you to pour a couple more drinks. You stepped closer to Enzo, feeling his body heat on you. The shoes you were wearing granted you a couple more inches of height, which, consequently, put your hairline just above his. His eyes were angled slightly upward as he watched you. 
You waved him against you. He leaned in. The confidence burning through you tonight was more than you’d felt in a long time. You felt hurt and angry and frustrated. You could fix one of those quickly. You traced the skin above his ear, pushing a small tuft of copper hair back. A small shudder went through his body as you pressed your lips against his ear.
“I just wanted to dance and was looking for a boy who’d dance with me,” you said slowly. “I thought Mattheo would be the best but maybe you could…you know…”
You pulled away and smiled sweetly, placing a deep innocence into your eyes, watching as his lips parted and closed multiple times. You tilted your head to the right, allowing your eyes to switch from his eyes to his lips ever so briefly.
“I haven’t seen Mattheo, I’ll dance with you,” he said, licking his lips and swallowing thickly. You smiled brightly and grabbed one of the hands hanging limply by his side. You felt his warm skin beneath yours as you tugged him toward the center of the dancing mass. You were pretty sure you recognized the song playing and proceeded to work all of its beats throughout your body, encouraging Enzo to join you.
“Come on, En!” you laughed. “You’re supposed to dance with me.” He seemed to shock out of a momentary stupor. You felt good tonight and you hoped it was showing on your face and body. He still didn’t move and you reckoned he was going to take some physical guiding. 
As the song slowed slightly, you grabbed both of his hands and slid them around your hips. His breath shuddered through his lips as you began moving the two of you. You dropped your hands to his belt and guided his hips a bit, biting back a smile. He had all of the facilities for these particular…activities, he was just really nervous. Soon enough, though, his hips were moving on their own.
You turned around and placed your back against his chest. Without prompting, his hands dropped down to your hips, gripping them firmly. He moved you against him to every beat of the song. To be honest, he was placing a little bit of blush in your stomach. One of your arms raised to wrap loosely around his neck.
“That’s it, baby,” you cooed in his ear, cradling the base of his neck with your hand. One of his hands raised to hold your arm against him as the other stayed intact on your hip. A crooked smile found its way onto his lips as the both of you felt every rhythm the other was putting out. Fuck, maybe you’d picked the wrong boy all along. The way Enzo was grabbing your hips and ever so slowly grinding against your ass had your lips parting in a slow gasp.
“Like this?” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. Merlin, help you.
If anything could have pulled you out of your current situation, it was the burning eyes you felt against you pouring into your skin like a brand. You gasped a bit and looked away from Enzo. Almost immediately, you found Theo’s eyes on the two of you. Enzo noticed your sudden change of attention and glanced up, finding the older’s eyes. Like he’d been branded himself, his hands faded away from you and, almost as quickly, so did he. Fucker. So much for sticking by you. 
You were used to it by now, though. Where you were involved, Theo was, too. Even though you weren’t actually together, everyone knew you were Theo’s. Anytime you were hanging out with another boy, he always found out. Even if it was just for a school assignment. 
His jaw was clenched and ticking. His eyes were lidded and ice-cold, angled right at you. You rolled your eyes and huffed, stomping off through the crowd. He couldn’t get whatever he wanted all the time. He needed to pick. He needed to officially claim you as his, take you on dates, buy you gifts, and all that nonsense or he needed to leave you the hell alone. He couldn’t have it both ways. 
You finally came upon the end of the crowd and the staircase leading to the girl’s dorms. You hurried up the steps, not even caring if he was behind you or ignoring you or with a different girl. 
The hallway was completely empty, everybody down at the party or taking an early night. You rushed across the winding floors, trying your best to get to your room before Theo changed his mind. You just wanted to get out of your clothes and makeup and go to bed. Your dorm door appeared around the corner followed by an immense sense of relief.
Your hand closed around the doorknob and—a hand closed tightly around your arm and yanked you back. A yelp escaped your lips as the perpetrator slammed you roughly into the wall just beside the door. It was Theo. He was livid, his breath coming out in hard slants, and his eyes so darkened they appeared black. You swallowed thickly, your breath rushing out of you just as his was. The two of you heard your hearts pounding in tandem.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded, his face inches from yours. Your eyes glanced down from his to his lips, watching the changes in his anger. He waited impatiently for an answer for too long before you realized it wasn’t meant to be a rhetorical question. 
He grabbed your arm once more and pulled you away from the wall. A swift flick of his wand and a fury like no other, and he was pulling you into your empty dorm room. It was almost completely dark by now.
“You want some attention, huh?” he said, casting a flame into the stove set in the middle of the room, his grip on your arm never weakening. He slammed his wand down on your bedside table and pushed you onto your bed. You fell roughly against the mattress, your hands holding you up into a sitting position. He stared down at you wildly, like an angry parent.
“Answer me,” he growled. Your eyes bore the same innocence you’d given to Enzo earlier and you knew that he’d only last a few minutes like this. Already, his facade was flickering and his gaze was softening. 
“I just—I don’t know, Teddy, I—”
“You just, you—you, you…fucking spit it out,” he mocked you. Body betraying your mind, heat pooled in your lower stomach as his face got closer and closer to yours and he got angrier and angrier. If it was anyone else, you’d have gotten embarrassed or angry but with Theo…it was a different feeling.
“All out of confidence, hmm? What happened, baby, you had plenty out there when you were grinding your ass all over Lorenzo Berkshire in front of everyone!”
“What’s wrong with Enzo?” you squeaked, your thumbs rolling over the other.
“He’s not me, you stupid girl,” he roared, his words perking your chest. You pressed your thighs together discreetly, never losing eye contact with him. You hoped he hadn’t seen you.
“Are you serious? Are you fucking turned on right now?” he asked. He had seen you. You didn’t say anything. His hand reached around and roughly gripped your hair, his fingers tugging deliciously on your scalp. He held your head back.
“Answer me, baby,” he whispered, his voice a thousand times different. “Does it turn you on when I shout at you? When you get me jealous and worked up?” The way he was looking down at you had you gulping against the strain being placed on your throat. You nodded.
“God, you’re so fucking pathetic,” he laughed darkly, the sinister tone in his voice echoing in your stomach. His hand let go of your hair and grabbed your jaw tightly. He held your face up so you were looking directly into his eyes.
“Maybe I need to remind you who you fucking belong to?” An eyebrow quirked. You nodded once more, anticipation hitting you like a train. He smirked, releasing your jaw by pushing you back roughly. Your back came into contact with the bed, the material nearly knocking the breath out of you. 
He crawled over you slowly, letting his lips ghost over your exposed cleavage, neck, chin, lips. He paused and allowed his breath to pour into your mouth. He tasted like alcohol, the scent of it burning your lips. He pushed his tongue out and gently traced it over your bottom lip. Your lips parted in a gasp at the contact. Just as soon as your mouth had opened, his had covered it, suffocating all breath. You moaned into him, feeling the way his body held you tightly against the mattress. 
You raised your hand to place your fingers beneath his shirt, but one of his hands reached down and grabbed yours with a speed your intoxicated brain wasn’t capable of comprehending right now. He raised them above your head and held them with a grip like a vice, his fingers violent and unyielding. You’d definitely have bruises in the morning. 
You bucked your hips against him, trying to illicit some contact between your core and his. He grunted at the touch before pulling back and roughly turning you over, pressing your chest into the mattress. 
“Don’t fucking do that,” he growled into your ear, still holding your hands tightly above you. “Do as I fucking say. I’m going to pull this skirt up and I’m going to fuck you and you’re not going to say a word but my name. Do you understand me?” You nodded frantically, impatiently waiting for some contact. 
“Keep your hands there,” he instructed as he slowly let them go. You curled your fingers around the edge of the bed to keep them locked in place. You didn’t dare disobey him. 
Behind you, you could hear the clink of his belt buckle as he pulled it from his jeans and dropped it to the floor. The anticipation was killing you, your thighs pressing tightly together for a chance at some friction. The heat between them was beginning to become too much. 
He pressed bruising kisses along the side of your neck, trailing them down your shoulder. His teeth cut along the flesh, ripping blacks and blues into the sensitive skin. You whimpered at the feeling, knowing good and well he just wanted everyone to see whose you were.
His fingers ghosted along the outsides of your thighs, tracing the chills that appeared in their wake. You shuddered against the sheets, waiting to feel everything he was about to do. You couldn’t see any of his movements and, for whatever reason, that amplified the feeling by a million. 
There was a moment of nothing except for the sound of rustling clothing. No part of him touched you and you found yourself becoming more and more desperate by the moment. You reckoned he was removing unnecessary items of his outfit but if he didn’t do something soon, you were going to start pitching a fit. 
Then his thumb pressed against your thin undergarments, right where you needed him the very most. An awfully audible moan left your lips and your spine arched against his touch. Merlin help anyone who walked by this dorm or, worse, tried to come in.
“Please, baby,” you sighed, your fingers clenching tightly against the mattress. His hand roughly grabbed your hair once more, tugging your head back.
“My name only, you dumb slut,” he insulted before pushing your head back into the sheets. One hand held your head to the bed as the other lined his hips up with yours. 
No matter how many times the two of you did this, you’d never get used to it. He was just so much better than any of the other boys in school. And there were a lot of them too. None of them felt like Theo and he knew it, too. He knew that you would always come back to him. He was impossible to leave. His touch and rough, degrading words were addictive and you couldn’t stay away from him. Your friends had told you over and over again that you needed to drop him and completely move on but you just couldn’t. He was the closest thing to a drug you had.
He tucked a finger beneath your undergarments and slid them over to the side. He placed a hand in front of your face. “Spit,” he ordered. You complied. He spread the material over his fingers slowly, coating each one thoroughly. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hand disappear and reintroduce itself with your core. The tips of his soaked fingers skirted between the slit of your skin, lathering you in his touch. Just as he’d instructed, his name poured from your lips like a prayer. 
He pulled his hands away and quickly replaced them with a dark, warm heat that pressed into you agonizingly slowly, stretching every part of you out.
“Fuck, it’s been a while,” he groaned breathlessly, pushing into you until he bottomed out. His lips curve just above your ear, every moan and whisper touching your mind like a soft hand. As he began to move, they became louder and made less sense to either of you. His name curled around the room. You worshipped him. The reverence you placed on every syllable touched his chest and slid down to his core. He gasped into your ear. You sounded so fucking good.
It didn’t matter if he fucked every girl in Hogwarts, none of them could ever compare to you. 
“Theo, baby, you feel so good,” you screamed, the words vibrating your skin. 
“Yeah, baby?” he breathed. You moaned aloud as he pressed an especially sharp thrust against you. “I know, I know.”
“Please, please, please,” you babbled, your words pathetic and useless. His hips never ceased their brutal pace.
“That’s it, baby,” he cooed. “Are you my girl? Or are you Enzo’s?” He growled the last part, his fingers tangling painfully in your hair. You yelped at the feeling, tilting your head back to relieve some of the pain.
“No, no! I’m yours, Teddy, I’m all yours, please,” you begged. 
“That’s right, baby.” He released your hair. Every movement of his body brought you closer and closer to your end. His hands gripping your hips and pulling himself toward his own, his lips curling against your ear, his weight holding you perfectly in place.
Neither of you would last much longer and you both knew that. Every deep push of his hips drove you further into your pleasure as you began to close around him, gradually coaxing a release out of him. One of his hands dropped down to trace tight circles against you, ignoring the way your hips quaked to get away from the overstimulation. You were done for. 
Every sound pouring from his lips began to mingle with yours a bit closer as he pushed you through both of your final breaths. His hips got slower and his grip loosened on your waist. The loss of his support sent your weakened body falling back down to the mattress. A breathless chuckle came from him as he laid down beside you, his shimmering skin luminescent in the moonlight. You presented him with a tired smile. 
“Could Enzo fuck you like that?” he asked, a proud smirk imprinted on his lips.
“I don’t know—I’ll let you know when I find out.”
3K notes · View notes
kaciebello · 2 months
Text
Don’t shoot the messenger
Slytherin boys x Hufflepuff!reader (use of she/her, no use of y/n)
Masterlist
Delivery Express ✿
Summary: The reader sees an opportunity to run an untapped market in Hogwarts and makes her first delivery.
warnings: mention of alcohol and cigarettes, nothing else really
Authors note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I wanna spread this into a one-shot series. Proofread by me and me only :(
Next part: Delivery fees
Word count: 1352
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Notes to deliver - 1
The Slytherin bedroom is filled with the usual chatter. Two boys arguing about quidditch tactics over a cigarette, some have given up and just stared at a ceiling while nursing a glass of fire whiskey. You can hear someone's father being mentioned in almost every other sentence. Nothing magical was happening if you omit this being a school of witchcraft and wizardry.
Suddenly, the door busts as if being kicked open. Revealing, to the boys, an unknown girl wearing a green uniform they are all familiar with, her cloak being absend. Her hair is neatly in a braid tied with a bow. All chatter stops and their attention is on her. She, however, paid no mind to anyone in the room and kept looking into her notepad as if nothing happened. Taking a few steps into the room and closing the door was only an interaction with her surroundings.
Nobody says a word for what feels like an hour. “ Who are you?” a voice recognizable as Draco Malfoy spoke. Snaping her head from her notebook she finally scans the room. As if searching for something. An offended scoff is heard from the boy as his question is left without an answer.
“ Sunshine? What are you doing here?” Lorenzo asks as he sits up. Her eyes snap to him the second she hears his voice. A sweet smile spreads on her face and her eyes create moon crescents. “ There you are! I have a note for you.” She says and takes a few steps to his sitting figure.
His friends, still confused by what is this mystery girl doing in their bedroom, could do nothing but stare as she moved across the room with ease. But she seems to pay no attention to anybody but her friend. Passing the neatly folded note to Lorenzo, she sits down and crosses something in her notebook humming happily before turning back to him with the same sweet smile. The boy in question studies the note and opens it to read it. His eyes widen and his ears go red. He turns to the girl in shock. 
“ YOU GAVE ME A LOVE NOTE???” He yells and the second those words leave his mouth all his friends surround the pair like hungry hyenas. Her smile drops and her eyes widen to the point some would think is impossible. “ Eh? Is that what that is??” She goes to snatch the note from him, which proves to be an easy task as Lorenzo is frozen in the spot. Before she could read the note herself, however, it was too snatched from her hand by Theodore Nott and passed around his friend group.
With a frown on her face, she turns to her friend, “ I, didn't give you anything, someone gave you a love note, I just delivered it.” She said making sure to emphasize mentioning her person in the sentence. “ So this is not from you? Because that sure sounds like an excuse, lame one at that,” says Mattheo Riddle as he waves the note in front of her face. She swats his hand away like it's a fly and he passes the note to Blasie Zabini who has yet to read it.
“No, I had no idea it was a love note,” she argues back and places her hand on Lorenzo's shoulder. “ I love you, but not like that.”
“ Are you sure? because-”
“yes.”
“no, like, if you do-”
“no”
“ Maybe we can work-”
“ I would rather jump from the astronomy tower.”
“Ouch,” he said and she just patted him on the back with fake sympathy. The note was passed back to him and he finally had the chance to look at it again. All of his friends return to studying the girl sitting on the bed.  A minute of silence is broken when Blasie speaks up. 
“ Are you, not the Hufflepuff girl sitting next to Enzo in Charms?” Looking up and smiling.
 “Why, yes I am.” she proudly announces to the room. The shock and mumbles did not phase her as her friend got her attention.
“ So who gave you this note?” Lorenzo asks seemingly coming out of his trance from just receiving a love confession. “ I don't know, some girl gave it to me and asked me to give it to you.”  She shrugs and targets the candy bag in Draco's arms, taking a handful without the boy noticing and popping a few chocolate pieces in her mouth. “ and you just did it?” 
“For 5 galleons.” He looks at her in disbelief. 
“ You sold our friendship for galleons?” he asks not believing he's worth a pocket change.
 “ She promised another 5 if I got her an answer.” “oh my god.”  He throws his head back and stares at the ceiling for a second as the girl next gives him a confused look.
“ what? I didn't know it was a love note. Besides-”
“ How did you get in here?” Draco cutes her as he notices her hand sneaking into his bag of candy this time, snatching it away.  The two friends turn to the group of boys standing around them.  “ I do you one better, whose uniform is that?” Mattheo asks pointing out the obvious Slytherin uniform on the Hufflepuff girl. Her eyes narrowed, not enjoying being interrogated. As she was about to answer Lorenzo was just a second faster.
“ Her own you moron, it's a color-changing charm. Good job on that by the way.” He says, getting up from the bed and breaking the circle his friends formed around them. The girl gets up and follows him to his desk. “ That does not answer how she got here.” chimes in Theodor. Leaning on the desk she turns to them and crosses her arms. “I'm a Hufflepuff, we have our ways. It is not that hard to find all the secret passages.” She says nonchalantly. Next to her, Lorenzo is hunched down and scribbling something on a piece of paper. Before any more questions can be said he shoots up with a little ‘aha’ leaving him.  Taking the girl’s hand and turning it, he slaps a little note folded in half in her palm. Then he fishes up what seems to be 10 galleons from his pocket and adds that as well.
“Now sunshine, please don't ever bring me love notes ever again,” he said and started to usher the girl out of the bedroom. She gets up from her spot and walks to the door not that much bothered by her friend kicking her out. “ What if it normal note? Can I bring that?” “ no.” He answers as soon as he hears the first question. ‘You're no fun ‘ can be heard faintly as she says it under her nose. Opening the door she previously so elegantly kicked open, she turns to his friends one last time. “None of you want to send a note? It will cost you only 5 galleons.”
All of them shake their head not wanting to use the girls' service. She gives them a few more seconds before she takes our step outside of the door. “ Wait, sunshine,” Lorenzo stops her with a sheepish smile on his face. Wodlesly she raises an eyebrow at him. “ next time don't forget to change the color of your bow.” he says and motions to the boy keeping her braid together. She looks down and sees it proudly shining the yellow color of her house. She just chuckles and without other words, she steps out of the room and closes the door behind her. 
The room falls silent for a minute before erupting into a bickering over what happened.
Notes to deliver - 0 
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choccy-milky · 3 months
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read the room, garreth (from the newest chap of my fic! ao3 / wattpad)
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