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gayandfairycore · 1 year

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Destruction and creation

Morgana x Merlins sibling reader part two

Summary when an old friend find you in the woods, it’s the first step to liberation, the first step to importance. The first step to be extraordinary. And when years go by, you’re constantly reminded that no one was going to come after you, and for that, you will raise all hell.

A/n this fic has taken me about two years to write a part 2, that’s actually revolting I’m so sorry to those who have waited so patiently! this fic is quite a bit longer than it’s predecessor, as I’d like to think I am a much better writer now. And it’s come to my attention that to send this fic off and finish the series it will need a part 3! I hope it won’t take me two years (🥹) this time.

but I thought what a way to give the people what they want and release a part two then after part one has just reached 100 reblogs! That’s so exciting! thank you all for enjoying my -albeit exhaustingly slow- content. I love you! I’m so sorry to keep you all waiting!

Warnings: grammar errors, canon typical violence, low self esteem, neglectful family, war crimes, murder, arson, all that fun stuff! Also not proof read lmao so if there’s a part that doesn’t make sense shhhh I’ll get around to it

Word count:4.9k

A cold chill shook your bones as you felt yourself shiver, gripping a ever fraying blanket. Halting your movements, and holding your breath, fear pulses through you, as your thoughts run wild you begin to realise that your head is lying on a soft pillow, not the cool wet grass it was lying on seemingly moments ago, your back was on a soft yet thin mattress, you were in a bed? But whose?the last you remembered was passing out In the woods, and soft warm hands haul you away.

Soft warm hands?!?

Cracking an eye open in panic you didn’t recognise where you were, it was cold, and deserted, herbs lined the cupboards a steaming cauldron sat utop the fire, warm white candles were lit all around the dark cabin. Their wax dripping precariously downwards laying a mountain of melted and hardened wax building from their stands, but never the less they made you feel a sense of comfort as when gauis had lit his candles when the sun began to dip below the horizon.

It was nice, the thought That maybe this person who kidnapped you had tried to make their home a little more pleasant. It made you chuckle, someone had found you, Merlin’s little sibling in the woods and decided to take you. A distasteful scoff had made its way out of your mouth as you began to speculate why someone would want to take you. what could you ever give them?

Moving yourself onto your elbows shuffling to sit up, the loud squeaky hinges of the quaint cabin swung open, morganas ivory skin, and gleaming dark midnight hair came into view, in her soft hands she held an array of different coloured flowers and herbs, a wide smile on her face at the sight of you awake.

“Good morning” her soft silk voice cut through the air, “how are you feeling, Did you sleep well?” She persisted, as she began to tip water into two cups one for the flowers in her hands no the other for you. Gripping the goblet as she made herself comfortable on the side of the bed.

“You kidnapped me!” You exclaimed watching her every move with panicked darting eyes, Concern built on her features she may not have seen you for a few years but she didn’t know what might have you so panicked.

She watched you scamper away from her only stopping when the back of your head hit the headboard she tentatively spoke your name again “y/n, You were passed out in the woods. I couldn’t just leave you there.”

“Well If you didn’t kidnap me what’s- what’s on the cauldron then? Hmm” you poked an accusatory finger in her direction

Watching as morgana sighed “Well if you really must know it’s soup.”

“Soup?”

“Yes, soup.”

“I’m making you soup! I thought it would be…nice?” A Bashful yet defeated smile overtook Morgana at your stunned silence, stirring the bubbling cauldron she spoke;

“I may have magic but I am not a monster, I don’t hate everyone who comes from Camelot.” her voice hard but not harsh, no she wouldn’t yell at you. oh god she wouldn’t dream of it. “I could never hate you..” she muttered looking up towards yours through her eyelashes, almost as if she felt embarrassed. Oh how you missed her bashful, and graceful embarrassment when she expressed something vulnerable, and how you missed her soft gazes from across the great hall during banquets as you were approached by person after person suitor after suitor.

A red blush coated her cheeks, as she thrusted out the water toward your form, your gaze softened, as you reached out toward the goblet, and clasped your hands around its rim. Morgana spoke after you made no effort to drink from the cup.

“It’s not poisoned…”

“I didn’t think it was” you retorted the goblet still cool in your hands you stifled a chuckled as you drank, a smile began to breakout on morganas face she had missed you equally as much. The raven haired woman had been so alone, going from place to place in search of army’s, dealing with the earth of morgues and having still lost against Arthur.

As night fell you had only just begun to realise how long you and morgana had been talking for, the day fell away, and the hours felt like minutes and suddenly you didn’t want this to be over. You didn’t want morgana to stop talking you you, because in those few hours someone had wanted to talk to you. Someone-the “ex princess” had wanted to know you, it crossed your mind of course that maybe she only cared about the affairs of the court.

And yet those doubts all dissipated when she held your hand and laughed at your stories, you realised that perhaps the bright, starry eyed princess who had been kind was still there, the morgana, your morgana was still there. And then suddenly everything you hid away came out. The same doubts that had plagued you for so long we’re still there. Just below the surface boiling over.

And as you conversed with the woman you told her your mistake that had ultimately gotten you into all this mess. You told her about the wave that burst from within you that knocked gaius and merlin to the floor, staining them all the colours of the rainbow. You told her about being chased by the guards. And why she should have left you to die in the woods. Because the wolves would have been kinder then any man.

That It would have been the kind thing to do, leaving you on the cool root of a tree to freeze, because you had magic and you had done what everyone had warned merlin not to do, hurt people. You had hurt the people you loved, and part of you liked it, liked the fear in Merlin’s eyes, liked the stunned silence that happened afterwards.

You. silly, defenceless, y/n.

Had something that made yourself special and by god it felt good.

The anger, the resentment that built within you for Camelot.

Your scared eyes stared at morgana with such an intensity she felt as if she would cry, she remembered being in the exact same position. As a young witch, in an unfriendly kingdom. She was not the villain all she wanted was for her kind to be free.

Morganas wooden dining table felt textured and lined underneath the pads of your fingers as you stared at the ebony haired witch, morgana had knew the minute she saw your body on the cool grass she would never make you feel as if you weren’t extraordinary. As her hands gripped yours her striking green eyes stared into yours with such love you felt compelled to lean over and grip her jaw with your hand, and place your lips delicately on hers.

As your lips mixed together as if they were made for each other, the intensity began to build, as you both fought for dominance morganas teeth bit your lip asking for entrance, you could never deny her. Parting your lips just enough that she could explore the vast expanses of your mouth. Your tongues colliding together. If you didn’t need air you weren’t sure you would have ever parted with her soft lips.

“I-I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done.” You muttered embarrassment lining your words, your head dipped toward the floor but if you had kept your head up and locked eyes with morgana you would have only ever seen the softest look humanly possible and a smile stretched so wide you would’ve been concerned.

“You really should have” the dark haired girl spoke rounding the table. And tilting your head up to meet hers, before she began to place kisses all over your face giggles escaped from your throat and a permanent smile gleamed across your face.

“You’re my girl”

“And Im yours”

That night both you and Morgana ate soup side by side, and strike up conversations about anything and everything. As days turned into months and months into years, you were both content together. Morganas home was quaint at first but perfectly suited for schemes, and peaceful days, and everything in between. Some days were easier then others. Morganas nightmares still haunted her, they ranged from the usual of emerys finding her and ripping you away from her. Before taking her life. To watching as the inhabitants of Camelot drove you from your home. She hated it. So she decided to teach you how to use your magic to your own benefit.

Merlin may have been the most powerful sorcerist to ever have lived but you were going to give him a run for his money, morgana was a splendid teacher, and it was in no time you progressed in your training, you had even beaten her a few times, and all whilst training you had fed her information that your brother had told you from your time at camelot. But even so you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her who he was.

But every night plagued with these nightmares she’d awake screaming, and you’d hold her in your arms, and reassure her no one could take you from her. You would rather die then have her ripped from you so cruelly, and you didn’t pretend you didn’t know her destiny. It was entwined with Arthur and Merlin’s, mordred would take Arthur’s life, and merlin would take morganas. And it would all be over before it began.

And both you and your brother would have had to walk the earth long after your lovers perished, perhaps it was the cruel strings of fate deeming you both unworthy of happiness. You knew what kilgarah had said to your brother “no man no matter how great can change his destiny” and perhaps when those words left his scaly lips, that was when you decided you were going to play god. You were going to pluck the strings of fate, tear down everyone and anyone who had posed threat to morgana, And you were going to let merlin watch as he lost.

He would have to sit there and watch as everyone he ever loved is ripped from the boy so cruelly it will make historians wonder whether you truly we’re siblings. You were never meant to be born, you were a mistake from the moment hunith found out she was pregnant for the second time. She favoured merlin, like most, And it had only succeeded in making you vengeful, and angry. So you learnt and consumed every word of every book you could get your hands on in ealdore. The first book happened to be a book on the vast poisonous plants in the area.

And from then on you had loved the effects that poisonous plants would produce, you had to find something that made you dangerous you didn’t have magic, it was erased from you by your own brother. Your mother told you stories of a time a snake that had slithered into your cot in attempt to strike you down only for something to expel from you, and your mother to come running in and find you playing with the carcass of the dead snake. Perfectly safe and unharmed in your cot. Your eyes were what made her fearful. Your golden eyes.

You had caused vast and wildly spread fires that would plague the houses of kids that were mean to your brother, hunith became fearful of your power instead employing merlin to wide any reminiscences of magic, or that you were at all powerful, and from that day on you were extra-ordinary. Hunith became fearful that she had raised two incrediblly powerful children, merlin as opposed to you brought life everywhere he went, there were no dead snakes in his cot, no scorching wildfires-

No where merlin walked it was as if places riddled with droughts had suddenly began to spurt water, dead crops began to replenish their life. Hunith began to fear she raised one child riddled in death, and destruction, and the other in life, and creation. And she had to make it impertinently clear to a young merlin that he mustn’t ever let you know you had magic.

She feared you, even as a child part of you knew that hunith had an air of fear encasing her, but she had nothing to fear, they had nothing to fear. You weren’t evil. You were a child, and they shunned you, they caused this. They always will cause your downfall. They made you feel as if you were nothing and were surprised by the fact that you became bitter and angry.

Morgana had helped you hone in on your potential and your power, she saw her self in you. And she wanted to save you from the minute you had bumped into her and knocked her over at the top of the castle stairs, way back when, she was enamoured by your bashful smile and your flushed cheeks and she knew she’d do anything for you, so when she betrayed Camelot, and left to destroy the kingdom she had any adventures, and encountered many different enemies, but seeing you again on the forest floor she knew you neede safe refuge. Morgana was never a monster. She hoped you could see that. And you could.

For years you’ve been with her, by her side, kidnapped and enslaved to hurt her, living in a pit with athusa and morgana for two years. And you never once complained because you were with the witch side by side. And you were sure you both would reign he’ll upon anyone else who dare harm you.

You’ve been with her in pits, through hovels, you’ve stayed in tents and in castles, and the only important factor was having morgana by your side.

The night was cold, and uncaring, the silver light of the moon illuminated the bedroom morganas head on your chest, as you ran your fingers through her hair, you had begun to devise your plan to run Camelot to the ground, for ever hurting the two of you, there had been many plans you’ve both enacted to destroy Camelot. Merlin foiling every. single. one.

It angered you to no end. Emrys had foiled one too many plans, you were going to finish this, agraveine being the first cog in the machine. Moving morganas head from your chest you moved your way to the kitchen lying your head down over the kitchen table running an angered and defeated hand over your face in attempt to ease your stress. No matter what you did what you sacrificed, what you destroyed your brother would rebuild it.

In your tired haze you didn’t hear morgana sneak up behind you, her hands wrapping their way around your waist she placed a chaste kiss on your shoulder, “are you alright my sweet?”

“No my love, I’m not. I fear there’s something I haven’t told you…”

“Well what ever it is I won’t be upset, you can tell me anything.” The ebony haired girl gripped your hand in hers and stared into your eyes with such a soft intensity.

“I know who emrys is.” You spoke Morganas eyes widened in a craze “who?!?” She exclaimed, her eyes blown wide with panicked insanity.

“My brother, merlin.” You muttered with little hesitation, anxiety bubbling in you after his name left your lips.

“Merlin?” Questioned morgana, a bewildered expression clear on her cool features.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I once held him very dear to me.”

“Dearer than I?” She quipped insecurities building their way to the surface, sadness stuck to her as if she was covered in molasses, sticky and bitter more fear built within her at your delayed reaction

“No. not dearer than you.” You exclaimed with such intensity, such sureness like there was never any doubt where your loyalty lied, morgana was sure you were the one for her when you placed your lips onto hers with such fire. Such love. She knew this kiss was an apology, and a reassurance, that she was the only one you’d ever give yourself to fully for a cause.

That cause was love, and freedom. No one deserved to hate themselves simply for who they were and morgana understood the conflicting of family. And doing the right thing, she was in your position not too long ago. She didn’t care about how long you kept this from her. She only cared about the fact that you told her who her arch nemesis was, your own brother. You betrayed your own family for her.

morgana began to rally troupes of saxons merciless fighters with as much skill and battlefield knowledge to bring an army to their knees, that was exactly what was needed. We were bound to be out numbered camelots troupes were more vast and fastious then the saxons but brutality was on your side.

Camelots armies would be nothing without Merlin’s powers it would already seemingly be a losing battle, we would already be outnumbered we would need to stop emerys in his tracks. Take away the only thing that gave him any power, his magic.

The cool stone throne sat in the dimly lit room inhabited only by those morgana had trusted ever so dearly, a room inhabited by her army, her confidants, and at last her lover.

You had stood beside her as she sat lesurly in her throne mordred by her left you by her right, the Druid boy had been surprised to see the sibling of the man he would have liked to betray, his disappointment immeasurable he had traveled such a long way, in search of revenge for his love, and yet His mission found to be useless, for Merlin’s title had already been spilled.

The young Druid boy had wanted the pleasure for himself but the bitter taste of betrayal from one’s sibling may stun Merlin more than any betrayal mordred could have ever bestowed.

As he bowed by Morganas feet in a pitiful apology when the dark haired witch relented and let the boy join her his piercing eyes stared through your soul as if he was dissecting you, his pale features ghaut and his eyes blown wide

Mordred really was, seeing a ghost, a person long thought to be dead. Staring at him with eyes glistening with life, and skin as youthful as the last time he saw them.

“I don’t mean to offend but miss aren’t you meant to be dead?” Mordred poked confusion etched his face as his knees dug into the textured floor, anger flared through morgana at mordred audacity to illicit a response from her love.

“Then don’t” the dark witch sneered her eyes glaring daggers into the pale boy, her glare only relenting when your hand graced her shoulder

“Morgana, it’s alright.” You chuckle, freckled hand running over morganas soft flesh. Your soft tone changing distinctly into one of piercing anger and resentment “they wanted me dead, they hoped I perished But alas I lived, all thanks to my lover. Without morgana i don’t know where I’d be.”

Your tone softened by the end of your monologue, as your gaze shifted down to your dark queen. Gratitude sifting through you.

“But they burned a burial shroud in your honour! Merlin thought you died?”

Mordreds confused and bewildered voice echoed throughout the room bewildered by the audacity and lack of care for a citizen and friend.

“No Mordred, dear. he hoped I died.” You sneered resentment and anguish blazing your blood. “There’s a difference.”

A nostalgic sadness resided within you, as you retired to your chambers the echoing steps of your shoes against the ground was all that could be heard in the silent thrown room mordred realised that perhaps he shouldn’t mention your lineage, and your time in Camelot.

Yours and Morganas chambers had suddenly packed all warmth and comfort that previously resided there, a cold nostalgic wound reopened from mordreds arrival.

They didn’t even find your body and yet they buried you, like they always did, they buried you.

Hot tears spilled down your cheeks the wounds may be old, and scarred, and faded but the faint dull ache that’s a constant reminder of what happened before. What happened when you were younger, a constant reminder of when Merlin wiped away your potential and ruined your life.

Pain, you were so full of it. It was almost drowning you, as your salty tears fell faster down your cheeks. You wanted Merlin to suffer, just as morgana had wanted Arthur too, there was no way you’d allow your plan to fail.

Your sobs quietening as your boots fall heavy on the floor as you marched your way toward the throne room, taking an old faded spell book from your book shelf the faded potion stains from gauis’ chambers still stained the brown pages, as you clenched your jaw. And flipping to the most looked over page.

A page about how to take away someone’s magic. Merlin felt he could play god way back when you were young? It was your turn.

Your turn to be extraordinary! He will watch as the only person he cares about falls before him whilst he is trapped. Trapped for all eternity.

“Morgana!” Your voice boomed, as your steps fell, “I know what we need to do.” You exclaim swinging the throne room door open with rigour.

“My love, what have you found?” The pale woman called out with softness, her hands roaming over your cheek with soft tender hands ghosting over your shining wet cheeks.

“The formula for Merlin’s destruction, the very thing we need to have the upper hand!” You speak crazed eyes full of anger and a burning hot psychotic rage.

Morgana had never thought you more beautiful than planning revenge, placing a joyous kiss on your lips, you passed the leather bound book toward her, the page sitting open.

A gean canach a creature of the old religion, in the form of an enormous slug. Forged by the tears of the earth mother. It drains the magic from it’s pray leaving them defenceless.

It was the perfect plan. And it would start by ensuring the beast could rid someone of their magic, morganas cruel smile graced her features as soon as she brought in a sorcerer she once considered an ally.

What a pleasure it is to see you again ari

The honour is all mine my lady

Your arrival has been keenly anticipated I can assure you.

I have boasted of your powers…

Mm he grunted tilting his head down

…tho not all believe

People may believe as they wish

Well perhaps some small proof of your talents is in order, after all seeing is believing is it not?

I’m not an entertainer my lady

Of course not

Think of it more as a demonstration

Extinguish those flames

My lady, I must protest.

Indulge me. Morgana snaps her voice sending chills up your spine

As you watch the man incant. Successfully extinguishing flames.

Impressive, indeed who here now could deny w your powers?

A man Carrie’s slug box

Ari tries to flee stepping back as two men grip his shoulders

Morgana incants as the man protests feebily struggling in the hood of the men

Watching as it latches to his face as he claws desperately to remove its suckers from himself it only relents after he is suitably powerless

His glassy eyes shine toward the sky, mordred tentatively asks “is he dead?”

Morganas cold menacing reply cuts through the air like a knife. “If I wanted him dead, I would’ve put a sword in his gut.”

A loud gasp fills the air of the throne room

“Don’t despair ari, we’re nearly done.”

“If you’d do me the favour of relighting those flames.” Her cool green eyes stare into his, with mockery.

“You know I cannot.” He despairs, his eyes shining and defeated as the lines on his face pull loose as he reels at his loss.

“For the benefit of my friends!” Morgana calls spearing a glance toward those around her, eyes as cool as stone, a haunting look over passes her face.

“I will not humiliate myself before you.” Ari cries, as he breaks himself out of the grip of the saxons.

“You will if you want to see your family alive.” Bites morgana, as she tauntingly moves her head to the side as of to challenge him with her threat.

Ari incants again, his face downturned in sadness. “AGAIN!” Rattles morgana as the man steps back in fear.

“If you please” she smiles before waving her hand watching as saxons clear the man from the court.

A grimace etching your face at the sight, taking away someone’s magic felt like a violation, but the look on a younger Merlin’s face as he took who you were away from you it felt like sweet sweet revenge doing the same to the boy you once called a brother, dropping the slug in his chambers was nothing if not easy, the difficult part was taking in your home, any reminance of you gone like you were nothing.

The cool stone under your feet felt as if it burnt you through the soles of your shoes the faint reminace of spilled potions staining the now fixed table it hurts, you can’t muster up enough strength to wipe the scowl from your face, as you close the wooden door of your old home, the hood of your cape thrown over you as you rush down the stairs of the kingdom and into the lower town.

The straw beneath your feet crunch as you walk, the sight of gauis has you halting your treks a gasp leaving your mouth it’s like you were frozen as you met the eyes of the old man, turning up your hood closer to your face you find yourself walking the crowded streets the olf man following as hastily as he could behind you ditching your cape over a random girl and hiding behind a wagon, a wagon of weapons, you watch as the old man grips this girl by the fore arm turning her to face him, he visibly deflated when he realises it was, in fact, not his ex child back from the dead.

And he stalks back to his discarded basket. A scoff breaks from your lips as you turn, your shoes crunching against the dirt and stone your eyes half lidded in anger, you don’t even think when you incant the wagon alight. The vast weapons, and steel deforming in the fire. The townsfolk running frantically past you, as you walk straight through the middle, a hard look on your features. As the fire burns brightly behind you.

A warning without a warning. The world was going to burn.

#bbc merlin imagine #bbc morgana #bbc merlin x reader #merlin x sibling reader #morgana pendragon x reader #morgana x reader #katie mcgrath #bbc merlin x sibling reader #morgana x merlin sibling reader

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staplegrapes · 2 years

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Sir Leon ✨Masterlist✨

Headcanons

• Being Sir Leon’s sibling would include…

#merlin #merlin bbc #merlin fanfiction #merlin fanfic #sir leon #sir leon of camelot #sir leon x reader #character x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #sir leonx sibling!reader

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angelfic · 10 months

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— IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU BABY

pairing: mattheo riddle x nott!reader

summary: you weren't quite used to the attention of other boys, and it seems your brother's best friend isn't too fond of it either

warnings: brother's best friend trope!! swearing, kissing, not much else, very much unedited

author’s note: i don't tend to stray outside of the marauders era characters buuuut i've been a bit obsessed with mattheo and theo recently so this was for my own selfish needs lol as always let me know what you think!!

He had barely looked away from you all evening.

You knew the only reason Mattheo’s eyes had been fixed on you for the entirety of dinner was because of a certain type of attention you had unconsciously garnered on your first day back at school. Particularly male attention. It wasn’t any less disconcerting, however, knowing that your brother’s best friend was prepared to fist fight any potential romantic advances towards you because he was just as protective as your actual older sibling.

Your brother Theodore is no better, a displeased frown appearing every five minutes when he looks over to where you sit at the Gryffindor table.

“Merlin, boys are pathetic,” Ginny mutters, spearing a potato with her fork. “You go away for one summer and come back slightly prettier and they flock to you like bees to honey!” You’re about to weakly protest that she’s exaggerating, but at that exact moment you’re interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

You slowly turn on the bench, reluctantly lowering your goblet of pumpkin juice to face Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw boy who you’d only ever spoken to when he was going out with Ginny.

“Hi, Michael,” you sigh, offering him a bland smile.

“Hello, Nott,” Michael replies, with what he probably thinks is a winning smile. “Had a good summer? I was just going to ask if you wanted to go on the first Hogsmeade visit of the term with me.”

You stare at him, unblinking. “Er- well, as… nice as that sounds,” you say slowly, not meaning a word. You glance at Ginny as pointedly as you can manage and raise an eyebrow. “I don’t quite relish the idea of going out with my best friend’s ex.”

“Oh! I, erm, I didn’t actually see you there, Ginny,” he stammers, laughing sheepishly. “My mistake.”

“Quite,” Ginny says drily, turning back to her plate of food.

“Well, er, see you later then,” Michael mumbles, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes back to the Ravenclaw table.

You bite your lip to stifle your giggles but it’s not long before you catch Ginny’s eye and the both of you erupt into fits of laughter.

“I can’t believe I ever went out with him,” Ginny groans, wiping her eyes.

“Was he always such a tosser or is that new?” you ask, snorting at the way Ginny scrunches up her face in embarrassment.

You’re still laughing when your eyes happen to pass over the Slytherin table just to focus on Mattheo.

You notice with a jolt that he’s looking at you again. This time, his eyes flick over to the Ravenclaw table for a second where Michael has settled back onto, then back to you and he quirks a brow quizzically.

Frowning, you mouth at him to stop in hopes that he ceases his scrutiny, just for him to roll his eyes and return to whatever one-sided conversation Blaise Zabini was attempting to engage him in. You hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel after realising Mattheo has just witnessed such an embarrassing encounter, but you’ve found over the years that you’re not the best at hiding the effects he has on you. Theo has never mentioned it in front of Mattheo as far as you’re aware, but he definitely hasn’t shied away from teasing you about the childhood crush you have on your brother’s closest friend. Not that you’ve ever admitted it to him anyway, and you’ve gotten a lot better at hiding it since nothing could ever come of it.

“Your brother and Riddle have been looking like they’re ready to halve the male population of Hogwarts since we got on the bloody train,” Ginny says, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Tell me about it,” you sigh, cutting into your carrot a little more viciously than needed. “They keep looking over at our table. I feel like I’m on one of those Muggle reality television programmes Hermione was telling your dad about the other week.”

Arthur Weasley was absolutely transfixed when he was learning about reality television from Hermione during breakfast the week you both stayed at The Burrow, and although you zoned out after his sixteenth question about a singular programme, you feel as though you caught the gist of it.

“Hm,” Ginny agrees, grimacing at the memory. She had nodded off at the table during that conversation and fallen asleep on her slice of toast. “In fairness, that’s not really a new thing.”

“What, being watched by my two guard dogs?” you ask in a mock-serious voice.

“Yeah, but…” Ginny chews thoughtfully for a second before answering. “I’m not just talking about today, or even recently. Your brother mostly minds his own business. I’m talking about Riddle. He’s always looking at you, I noticed it last year. Wherever we are, kind of like he’s checking up on you,” she says like it’s common knowledge, shrugging. “It’s sweet, I guess.”

You blink at her, a little speechless.

“What?” Ginny frowns after a few seconds of your silence. You look at her with raised eyebrows, not really taking her seriously. In your first few years at Hogwarts, you had confided in Ginny regarding your silly, little girl feelings for Mattheo and she would read into every action he took towards you in an attempt to prove he liked you too. Obviously, he saw you as nothing but a younger sister figure and once you grew up a bit, Ginny had let it go too.

Ginny reads your dubious expression now and sets down her knife and fork to cross her arms. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m serious! I’m not just saying it because you were helplessly in love with him until you were, like, fourteen.”

“Shush!” you hiss, thwacking her arm. “Why don’t you just get up on stage with Dumbledore and ask him to include that titbit of information for the entire school to hear in his speech!”

“Good idea,” she says, nodding seriously and starting to get up. You know she’s just teasing, but you start spluttering and frantically grab at her sleeve to sit her back down, causing her to topple onto you slightly. This sets you both off laughing again and you find it hard to stop for the rest of dinner and desert, thankfully staying far away from the topic of Mattheo. You also pointedly avoid looking at him again.

Once dinner is over, you head to the Gryffindor common room with the rest of your house and catch up with everyone for a while. After a couple hours of socialising and fifteen minutes of helping Neville Longbottom search for his pet toad, you head up to your dorm with Ginny and Lena, one of your other dormmates, to unpack.

As soon as you open your luggage, you search for your pyjamas and immediately change out of your robes and into a t-shirt and baggy shorts for comfort. You’re in the middle of unpacking some textbooks when you hear Lena whistle from behind you.

“I do not remember those pyjamas looking like that,” Lena comments, grinning at you. Rolling your eyes, you comply with her request to do a little spin and you can’t help feeling pleased when Lena and Ginny start whooping and hollering. “You’ve always been gorgeous, but you really grew up this summer, huh? Look at those legs!”

“Tell me about it,” Ginny pipes in, flopping down on her bed and abandoning her unpacked suitcase. “She came to stay for a week and Mum looked like she was going to cry every time she saw us. Something about ‘blossoming into young ladies’ or whatever bollocks.”

“You ‘blossomed’ last year,” you point out, and Lena hums in agreement. “I haven’t forgotten how Zacharias Smith fell off his broom trying to wave at you during Quidditch practice.”

Ginny groans and starts ranting about teenage boys again. Lena joins in and starts teasing her about how Harry Potter is the only boy she hasn’t complained about and you’re about to set down your belongings to help Lena dodge the pillows Ginny is throwing at her when a flash of green and silver in your suitcase catches your eye.

“Shite, I have Theo’s uniform,” you huff, grabbing the clothes out of your suitcase and sliding your slippers on. “That means he has mine and I am not dealing with this at seven in the morning. I’m gonna go drop this off, be back in a minute.”

Ginny says goodbye before resuming her pillow attack on Lena as you make your way out of the room and down into the common room. It’s nearly empty, with most people having gone to their rooms to pack and a quick glance at the clock tells you its past curfew. You decide to take the risk since you have a reasonable excuse, but you hope that if you do get caught, it isn’t by Filch or Snape.

By the time you’ve reached the dungeons, you thank Merlin that Theo had the sense to tell you the password for the Slytherin common room before dinner in case of emergency.

“Pureblood,” you mutter, fighting the urge to scoff when the door swings open. You enter the common room and brighten up when you see that the only students still hanging around are Theo and his friends. Your brother seems to have already started unpacking since he’s standing and holding your uniform, presumably about to come and find you. His friends all mumble polite ‘hello’s and he walks up to you with a smile.

“Oh, hey, I was just-” Theo cuts himself off when he properly looks at you and frowns. “Wha- Why are you wearing pyjamas out and about?”

“You’re wearing pyjamas too!” you exclaim, slightly embarrassed that your brother is doing this in front of your friends. They all turn to look at you again, hearing the indignation in Theo’s voice and you notice Mattheo suddenly sits up straighter. Suddenly aware of your bare legs, you tug down the material of your shorts, despite the fact they aren’t even very short to begin with.

“Oi. Stop looking at my sister!”” Theo snaps, glaring at Blaise, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. You know the only reason they glanced at you in the first place is out of curiosity regarding Theo’s question, but Theo and Mattheo scowl at them all the same and they all start sputtering, Draco in particular when Pansy narrows her eyes at him. Theo sighs at you, quickly exchanging your uniforms. “Just- at least take something to cover up back to your room.”

“I’ll walk her back,” Mattheo says, out of nowhere. He stands up and makes his way over to you, face carefully blank. Theo nods, agreeing quickly before he ruffles your hair goodbye to go and finish packing. You’re too surprised by Mattheo’s offer to protest until you’re already out of the Slytherin common room.

“I don’t need someone to walk me back, you know,” you mumble after a minute of charged silence.

“It was either me or Theo,” he shrugs, completely unapologetic when his mouth quirks up in a smug smile. “And I know you prefer me.”

“You’re both equally annoying,” you say, rolling your eyes, happy that he’s talking to you like normal again. You hated it whenever Mattheo was serious – it was rarely ever towards you and you much preferred when his whole face lit up with a smile. He begins to tease you about your bunny rabbit slippers and you’re in the middle of pretending to be irked when you both run into Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff prefect doing patrol duties.

“Hey,” Ernie offers you a friendly smile and gives Mattheo a brief, slightly nervous glance. While you prefer not to get into trouble for breaking curfew, Mattheo clearly couldn’t care less and his relaxed, yet intimidating stance must be off-putting to Ernie. Thankfully, you’re on friendly terms with the Hufflepuff and you give him an even brighter smile to make up for it, to which he beams at. “How was your summer?”

“Good, yeah! Erm, listen Ernie. We didn’t mean to be out at this time, it’s just that I accidentally had my brother’s uniform and needed to-”

“Oh, forget it. Don’t worry, I won’t dock you any points,” Ernie reassures you, waving off your excuses and you instantly relax. Ernie gives Mattheo another unsure glance before leaning in the tiniest bit closer to you. You try not to pay attention to how Ernie has been glancing at your legs and how Mattheo tenses up when Ernie starts speaking again. “I was actually wondering if you were available next weekend…?”

Ernie trails off when you don’t show any indication of replying straight away and you snap out of your surprise to say something, but Mattheo beats you to it.

“She’s busy then,” he says coldly, working his jaw. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late. Kindly get lost.”

“Wha- Matt!” you hiss, smacking his chest to which he barely flinches, nor does he look at all apologetic. “Ernie, I-”

“Never mind,” he says quickly, seemingly eager to just leave. “I’ll, er, see you later.”

You stand frozen in shock while Ernie rushes down the corridor and turns the corner, leaving you and Mattheo alone. Turning slowly, you look at him with barely contained anger.

“Why the hell did you do that?” you demand, voice sharp as nails. If it weren’t past curfew and you weren’t in the middle of a school corridor, you would most definitely be yelling. Mattheo stands with his hands in his pockets, clenching his jaw and his silence makes you even angrier. You accepted long ago that you’d never have a chance with him, but now he was getting in the way of you having a chance with anyone. It was completely unfair. “What if I actually wanted to go out with him?!”

Mattheo scowls at this, but his impossibly dark brown eyes flash with a hint of uncertainty. “Did you?”

“What?” you ask, impatient.

“Did you want to go out with him?” he says, voice low and dangerous. He walks forward, towering over you and you refuse to be intimidated so you start walking backward until your back is against the wall. Despite having cornered you, he maintains a fair amount of distance between you, leaving plenty of space if you want to move away. You don’t.

“That’s none of your business,” you say stubbornly, raising your chin and trying your best to keep your voice steady. Mattheo narrows his eyes and reduces the distance between you ever so slightly with another small step. You nervously keep talking. “I can go out with whoever I want.” Another step. “And you can’t just-” One more step. “Matt.” His shoes are flush with your slippers.

“What?” he whispers, tilting his head and looking at you calmly, while you feeling anything but calm. “I can’t just… what?”

The previously respectable distance has gone out the window and instead you barely have space to breathe with the way Mattheo is leaning in, head dipped toward you but never touching, hands resting on the wall either side of you. He leans in, eyes dropping to your lips and your heart leaps in your chest with anticipation, but he ghosts his lips over your jaw instead and the barely-there contact has you breathing unevenly.

“You can’t…” you exhale, trying to finish your sentence with some dignity and failing miserably. “You can’t just scare people off like an overprotective older brother.”

Mattheo stills, lifting his head enough to meet your eyes, but making no move to distance himself any further. He scoffs quietly. “Brother,” he says the word with a mildly disgusted scowl. “Is that what you think I want to be?”

“I- I don’t…”

“You don’t know,” Mattheo finishes for you, the corners of his mouth turning up, yet his expression is devoid of humour. “No, you don’t know how badly I wanted to hex Macmillan just now. How badly I wanted to try out some new, experimental spells on that fucking Ravenclaw earlier. But none of that had anything to do with brotherly feelings.”

“They were just being nice,” you say stupidly, with not a clue in the world as to why you’re defending them right now. If anything, you’re just confused.

Mattheo quirks a brow, tongue pressing against his cheek as he considers your words. “That Ravenclaw from earlier was talking about you on the train. He said he was going to ask you out at dinner because you’d ‘gotten hot’ over summer,” Mattheo sneers, like he’s suddenly regretting not hexing Michael Corner in the Great Hall. “They weren’t being nice.”

All of a sudden, you feel irritated because you have no idea why Mattheo is telling you any of this. “What’s wrong with a boy finding me attractive? Is that such a crazy idea?” you demand, part of you not wanting him to answer.

“Merlin, do I seriously have to say it?” he groans, sighing when you glare at him. Mattheo takes a breath, meeting your eyes and you marvel at the sincerity you see when he speaks. “You didn’t ‘get hot’ over the summer. You’ve always been beautiful and they’re idiots for not paying attention then.”

Your breath catches in your throat, whether it’s from emotion or from the close proximity with Mattheo, you aren’t sure. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Mattheo nods, leaning back in to brush his nose against your own, his breath mingling with yours. “Always have.”

You take this as a cue to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in and the next thing you know, his mouth is firm against yours, and his hands are finally touching you, grabbing you by the waist and sliding up your back to hold you closer. You’ve thought about kissing Mattheo before, but the thoughts feel utterly stupid compared to the real thing. Mattheo kisses you fiercely, mouth sliding hot and wet against your own making you come alive and weakening you at the same time. He nips at your bottom lip and you gasp, causing him to smile into the kiss. Your hands are sliding up his chest to snake around his neck when a thought suddenly occurs to you and you pull away abruptly.

“Oh my God, Theodore,” you hiss, covering your mouth with your hand. Mattheo furrows his brows, looking a little dazed and confused. “What are we going to tell him?”

“He knows I’ve loved you since we were kids,” Mattheo says flippantly, waving you off and impatiently starting to lean in again, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “What?”

“You’ve loved me since we were kids?” The words hardly register, but before you can feel any sort of elation, you mostly feel pissed off that your brother has clearly had his fun with the situation for years. “And Theo knows?”

“Yes,” Mattheo says slowly, as if he were talking to a child. He brushes the hair out of your face and his gaze turns a little uncertain when he speaks. “Er, this is hopefully the part where you say you feel the same way.”

“Well, of course I feel the same way,” you huff, still thoroughly annoyed at Theo. “He knew I was crazily in love with you too and the bastard was so irritating about it!”

You’re about three quarters of the way down a list of ways you want to get back at your brother when Mattheo gently turns your face by the chin to look at him. “As much as I’d love for you to plot against your brother right now, it’s kind of a mood killer thinking about him when I’m kissing you.”

“Sorry, sorry. Continue with the kissing.”

“How romantic,” he says drily. His smirk turns smug, however, when he processes your previous statement. “So… you were in love with me too. What was the word you used, again? Crazily? Crazily in love…”

“Don’t make me take it back, ‘cause I swear I will.”

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x fem reader #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle scenarios #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle ff #mattheo x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n

11K notes · View notes

ma1dita · 7 months

Text

kiss his face with an uppercut

smutty part 2 here-> heavy hitter

words: 4k

summary: james potter is so attractive you could beat him to death with a bludger. james potter x fem!beater!reader not from gryffindor (for the plot!!)

warnings: none! james gets physically hurt multiple times by reader, multiple innuendos, enemies to lovers kinda, less serious lovey dove more sexual tension!!! probably not accurate quidditch gameplay

a/n: sorry for the hold up guys this took almost a month of on and off editing lmfao— this whole oneshot makes me think of the filipino word ‘gigil’– simply translating to cuteness aggression; i barely know jack shit about sports much less quidditch but this concept had me looking up quidditch rules to be able to provide– eat up kids

Y/S- sibling name

Y/H- house

(posted & edited 10/10/23)

—

Oh BROTHER, this guy STINKS! I mean, how has he not gotten walloped at least once during this godforsaken game? You suck your teeth at the sight of James flying around the pitch blowing kisses to his fan club and Lily Evans, who turns her nose up at the sight of him.

Merlin, when will this game end?

The Hogwarts Quidditch Semi-Finals of 1977 was a game to watch… until both teams stopped scoring what seemed like hours ago. Both Gryffindor & (Y/H) were at a stalemate, down some players due to injury and now, even lower team morale. Gryffindor team captain and chaser James Potter, notorious Marauder, and resident flirt, is not someone who likes to lose. He’s spent all season drilling his teammates, memorizing plays, and thinking of every outcome possible to ensure another Gryffindor victory. James’ affinity to be right takes precedence over anything, after all. But after beating down almost all of (Y/H)’s reserves, James was almost vibrating with confidence. He really doesn’t lose, not if he can help it.

“AND ANOTHER (Y/H) IS DOWN WITH AN INJURY— Team captain Whithall calls for a timeout as they reconvene on what to do next! Hope you’re still comfy in the stands, folks….” the student announcer grumbles.

There’s absolute chaos on the field, and like birds scuffling over a piece of bread, (Y/S), the team’s last good beater is floating on a gurney, ready to be transported to the Hospital Wing.

“Oh, here comes trouble…” Sirius murmurs, smacking James on the back to grab his attention.

You jump down from the stands to check on (Y/S), and James is too busy reveling in the idea of winning the goddamn semi-finals that he doesn’t notice you putting Quidditch gear on.

“Easy win from here on out, Pads! The little lady’s just checking the damage. Not important,” he chortles before Sirius physically grabs his head to face the girl walking towards him, currently storming across the turf to meet him and his team.

“I’m subbing in,” you say, angry at how dirty Gryffindor’s been playing, and angry that you even have to play in (Y/S)’s stead.

“Sweetheart, this game is for serious, you know that right?” James says a bit dumbly with a furrowed brow. Both of you are head to head, and James sees the twitch in your eye as you cross your arms. Hot air is seeping out of your pores but James’s lip simply quirks up in intrigue. You’re someone he hasn’t noticed before, and the only thing running through his mind besides winning the game is that you’re really pretty. But then again, he’s always found angry women to be attractive, in retrospect.

“Yeah, for the actual cup, not…for Sirius… It’s the wrong time to joke, innit?” Sirius says to break the ice, noticing the palpable tension between your glares. Your faces are inches away from each other and he’s not sure if you two are going to fight or kiss, but it makes him grimace all the same.

“Who do you think (Y/S) practices with? Unlike you and your friends, I know when to take things seriously,” You say through gritted teeth.

“She’s legit, Potter. Got added to our reserves last week.” Whithall pipes up, ready to get back to the game. The crowd has been weathered down after hours of anticipation, and they want to see the end of it, no matter the outcome.

“Much to my surprise,” you grumble, elbowing the authority in the form of a teenage boy not much older than yourself. You should’ve known your sibling was looking a little too happy as they got floated off the pitch on a gurney.

“Then let’s play. Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” James says condescendingly, floating away on his broomstick like it’s a walk in the park, but the way you’re slapping the bat against your palm is getting Sirius a tiny bit nervous for his precious countenance. The whistle blows and the game resumes.

“A SURPRISE ADDITION (Y/N) JOINS HER HOUSE AS BEATER! Gryffindor better watch out for her swi—” You slam the bludger in James’s direction and it hurtles toward him so fast that he almost folds in half, barrel-rolling on his broom to dodge it. The move makes Sirius and a few of their other teammates gasp to see James scrambling back onto his broom.

“Oops! Looks like I missed.” you deadpan, balancing midair as you whack another one where it rebounds off the Gryffindor seeker and back towards James, hitting both of them in the gut.

“THIS GIRL’S GOT AN ARM ON HER! Though might I say her hits look a bit targeted…” The commentator says worriedly, and everyone in the crowd is leaning in their seats trying to get a better view.

“Merlin, are you trying to kill me woman?” he yells in outrage.

“I’m trying to finish the game. Your big head is in the way,” you say with a straight face as Sirius bats towards you, and you spin on your broomstick without shifting your posture. The smile on your face as you taunt him should be considered criminal, but he’s looking at you in a new light.

Yeah, now he’s paying attention. The other Gryffindor players can’t seem to figure out your next move and you bat another bludger towards Potter’s extremely large target of a head, and all of a sudden he’s freefalling through the air as his teammates fly to catch him, one by one. His nose still makes impact with the ground before Sirius catches by the ankle like Achilles taking a dip in the River Styx.

“AND (Y/H) HAS CAPTURED THE SNITCH! Good job to their Seeker, Appleby! Congratulations on a job well done, so that we can all finally go home.” The commentator cringes as McGonagall swats at him to leave the podium.

Who even is she, taking over the game and stealing his win like that?

He’s walking up from the sidelines with a bloody nose, going to shake Whithall’s hand and you’re standing behind him, a malicious grin plastered between your rosy cheeks, windswept and almost ethereal while he looks like he got flattened by a hippogriff. Fuck, she’s pretty. You look like you floated down from the heavens, and by the looks his team gives him, he may have just crawled out of the earth.

“Congrats,” he grumbles, turning to you. Really pretty. It’s even worse that you’re devastatingly stunning up close— with sweat glistening on your brow and a pearly white smile, he takes a good moment to really look at you and memorize the flutter of your eyelashes. He’s unsure if he’s concussed or maybe it’s his astigmatism, but there are actual stars in his vision as he peers down at you. Your confidence is actually kind of sexy.

“You look…um…you ride well.” He stutters, shaking his head from his personal reverie.

“Excuse me?” you say, your little mouth agape in what he hopes is not disgust. He looks pathetic, blood sopping down to his jersey as he looks at you like he’s only seeing you for the first time, acknowledging you closely. Something about seeing him flail makes you crinkle your nose as you stifle a grin.

“I mean…Um…” Damn.

Sirius pulls his best friend away before you can bite back your laughter, all of your teammates leading you away to celebrate.

“Mate, what the shit was that? Are you alright in the head?” Sirius says, and if James’ nose wasn’t already bleeding he was going to slap him silly.

“Just…Didn’t see that coming…” he mumbles, and his mind, along with all of Gryffindor is in disarray as they walk back to their tower. He’s got a lot of thinking to do on what his next move will be.

—

James Potter goes through life in three methodical ways: 1.) creating a strategy, 2.) making a scene, 3.) and dragging his friends into it— in that particular order, every single time.

Now notice how considering consequences is not part of said process.

His ego wouldn’t let him rest after a girl, much less a very pretty one that he’d never noticed before—beat him at what he does best; quidditch! In fact, the next few nights were void of sleep and filled with thoughts of you. The way your hair looked so soft in the sunlight, how your lip turns almost Gryffindor red when you bite it in concentration, and maybe how your delicate hands would look as they tightly grasp onto his bat...ahem…your quidditch bat. Some dirty delusions aside, if looks could kill, he’d be dead seven times over, but honestly? He’d probably thank you for it.

James’ new mission was to figure you out, and if that was his mission, it meant it was the rest of the Marauders’ too. For the sake of winning the Cup, of course. That’s what he tries to tell himself until his mates catch him ogling you again at breakfast.

“So what is it with you and girls that inflict you nothing but pain and humiliation?” Remus muses, as the Marauders watch James laugh at a joke you told your friends at the (Y/H) table across the Great Hall. He looks at you like someone who stares at the sun, squinting and burning himself as he ponders on why he’s unable to look away.

James fumbles a response, shoving Remus as they all laugh. “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a masochistic streak, Moony. Just…There’s something about her…”

Your friends are pointing at him now, and as you turn to meet his eyes, you lift a brow inquisitively and flip him off. Sirius’s face pulls up in shock at James’s growing smile at the interaction as he mumbles, “Maybe you’ve met your match, Prongs…”

The boy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, anything to try to see you clearer as he leans over to put his head in his hands, sighing dreamily. His friends are not as easily amused.

“A match made in heaven, you reckon?”

—

“Match made in hell, more like!” You spit, almost choking on your scrambled eggs at your friends’ insinuations. Your back is as stiff as a board, shoulders tight at the notion of you ever liking James Potter triggering your fight or flight response. When it comes to someone as pompous as him, only the word fight comes to mind.

“Oh come on, love… He’s popular, funny, and quite handsome…It’s James freaking Potter we’re talking about!” your roommate gushes, but you're not the least bit impressed.

“Is that supposed to do anything for me? I can think of a few F words that middle initial can stand for…” Eyes rolling, you peek back at the Gryffindor table to see said boy wiggling his fingers at you teasingly until he accidentally smacks Peter in the face with his toast. Idiot.

“Only hot people get away with stupid shit. I mean look at the four of them!” you continue, gulping down the rest of your coffee. “Potter’s the worst out of all of them though. Big ass head must compensate for a lot of things." You say, shaking your head at your friends.

"And yet, here you are, talking about him for the fourth time this morning," your roommate replies, smirking. " You’ve been Potter crazy since you helped us beat Gryffindor in the semi-finals! Are you sure you don't have a crush on him?"

"No!" you say too quickly, too loudly, that the shrill noise of your voice makes your ears hurt and the shit-eating grins on your friends’ faces reflect how desperate that came off. You slump onto the table, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You wanna kiss him, don’t you?” they tease, and you push away their puckering faces as you scoff, “With an uppercut, maybe!” Almost makes you want to stomp over there and wipe the stupid look off his face…and maybe sit on his lap. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. All this aggression really needs to go somewhere, but unfortunately, James Potter’s lap is the only destination you have in mind.

“He’s just really punchable. I get so annoyed by the sight of him I just want to… ugh!” you groan, your hands shaking as you try to convince them (or yourself). Your friends cackle at the sight of you pretending to squeeze his curly-topped, mothball-filled head, but your brain changes course and you imagine what it’s like to hold his hand. Your fingers flex cautiously at the idea, wondering what his touch would feel like. Grabbing a glass of water to cool your thoughts, your peripherals reveal he’s still staring at you like you make night turn into day. His gaze is searing, and as you put your lips around your straw, he licks his lips slowly. Shit.

—

Availability bias is one hell of a mindfuck. If only they taught psychology at this magic school, maybe the wizarding world would have way fewer problems and more people would be straightforward and not.. Dead. James decides he can categorize his life now as before you, and after you.

Before you, well… he honestly wasn’t even sure if you were a student at Hogwarts until he saw you marching down the pitch, but now… You’re everywhere. He can spot your voice in a crowded hallway, and who was going to tell him you’ve had three classes with him this whole term? Even down to when he shuts his eyes, he’s convinced his eyelids are branded with the imprint of your silhouette. Every conversation he strikes with you ends with you laughing at him, and he’s unsure if that’s a step up or down from the many boisterous rejections from Lily Evans over the years. He sort of wishes you’d laugh with him, and do a number of other things, (heck he’s got a list of ideas he’s wanked off to), and well… His soul is tightly wound with thoughts of you and Godric, listen to this guy…. maybe the boys were right…. Maybe he really does need to get laid.

It’s funny how fate works, two people who’ve barely interacted in the past six years at Hogwarts are now paired together for a History of Magic essay worth 20% of the term grade. You’re trying to get this done as fast as possible, he notices, mapping out ideas and trying to discuss how to piece it all together, yet James does everything but that to get you to pay attention to him. He fills your head with mundane little questions, asking you what your favorite fruit is to the childhood bedtime story your parents told you as a kid.

“What’s your middle name, Potter?” You muse, finally entertaining him after endless chatter. His eyes trail to the exposed skin of your collarbones as you stretch in your seat, and well… you don’t look as menacing as you always do but did it seriously have to be this question? He scratches the back of his head, silent for the first time in the two hours you’ve been trying to craft this essay for the sake of both your grades.

“What? I can’t just go around calling you James Fucking Potter. Spit it out, you know too much about me already.”

He clears his throat, a blush creeping up his neck. “It’s… that’s an intimate question, love… I…”

Your laughter at his response makes his senses shut down. “Oh, so it’s bad. What is it, Franklin? Fabio? Come on, I won’t bite.” A part of him wishes you would, your face equally flushed and so close to him right now, almost leering at him for an answer. It’d be easy to just lean over…

“Fleamont.”

Your lips quirk, until they pucker like you’ve guzzled a lemon. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, and the sound explodes out of you. You laugh so loudly Madam Pince kicks you both out of the library, James carrying both your knapsacks, a hand around your waist as you rush out of there. Your body is firm under his touch, pupils unfocused and dilated looking at him now that you know his dirty little secret. James thinks that if you keep looking at him like that, hell, you can call him anything you want.

—

Fleamont.

What a prick. A really attractive, clueless prick. The memory makes you giggle as you get ready for the Quidditch Cup and your team charges out onto the field to face Gryffindor again, as you’ve both advanced to the finals. He’s not as much of an asshole as you originally thought. It’s undeniable that something pulls you towards him, whether it be hormones, concern, or the fact that it’s actually adorable the way he writes his mother back weekly, or admirable how he moved Sirius out of Black Manor himself last year. Maybe it’s endearing the way he goes out of his way to make first-years smile or heartwarming how even Filch can’t find reasons to hate him. The golden boy. You get it now, why people get trapped in his web, and why many are unwilling to leave.

You pass him outside the locker rooms, bumping shoulders as he smiles almost bashfully. The golden boy, loudmouth, ball of energy is reduced to a nervous pile of teenage ineptness at the sight of you, every time. You could take him (not in a fight). In an actual fight, maybe you could land a few solid hits before his nice muscly arms hold you do—

“Ready to finish this, darling?”

Your eyes refocus when his hand nudges the small of your back, right above your hip. “Mhmm,” you clear your throat, “Ready to lose, Potter?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moves closer, slowly backing you into the wall.

“Eyes on the prize Potter, I’m in this to win it.” You say, looking at the closing distance between both your chests. James nods, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment, even when the announcer calls out the imminent start of the game.

“WELCOME TO THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP OF 1977 GRYFFINDOR VS. (Y/H)! I hope you are all excited as our last match between these teams was quite thrilling at the end of it!” The announcer says, hyping up the roaring crowd as your teams parade onto the pitch.

His eyes are still on you when he shakes Whithall’s hand and the whistle blows. It’s intense, and makes you feel like you’re burning, even if the wind is blowing like crazy today. You bat the bludgers toward anything red on the field that even dares to move toward your teammates. James won’t stop staring at you, and you both lock eyes across the pitch.

“What? Flirt with me later, Potter, I’m trying to win!” you yell.

He’s got you transfixed, and it’s crazy how his timing is always wrong. You bat the bludger away from your captain but don’t notice James flying towards you to respond as you give it your hardest swing, making the impact against his huge target of a head all the more painful.

Holy shit, did you kill him?

He keels off his broom like a shot bird and then he’s falling, and you’re the one chasing the Gryffindor chaser as he flaps his arms like the idiot you know he is as you push forward to catch him before he splits his skull open.

“I’msofuckingsorryJamesareyouokay?” You blurt out as you land, soft hands moving over his broad chest and quickly swelling face. He’s wearing that stupid grin again, and you think you may have finally broken Gryffindor’s team captain.

“You know my name?” he sighs happily, comfortable in your lap and maybe it’s the brain damage you’ve caused him or the way his glasses are bent beyond repair but you will every magical predecessor you can think of to stop you from punching him in the face right now.

“Are you fucking dense?” You scream, shaking your head, and jostling him as his arms try to reach out to swipe the hair away from your face.

“Must’ve hit him so hard you knocked his filter loose..” Sirius muses after he lands next to you two on the grass.

“POTTER’S TAKEN A HIT FROM (Y/H) and it doesn’t look good ladies and gents! Gryffindor calls a timeout to check on their captain!” The announcer calls out, and there are so many eyes on the two of you as James is simply giggling like a prepubescent schoolboy. Fuck, you’ve maimed the golden boy.

“Y’know, sweetheart. You’re…really sexy when you’re on top of me like this,” he says breathily, and you really can’t hit him, so you jab Sirius in the gut instead when he tries to laugh at his best friend’s stupidity.

—

James wakes up in the hospital wing with a blinding headache until someone gently pulls the curtains closed, stroking the hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Poppy you always take such good care of me…” he mumbles. A punch lands on his chest and his eyes rip open, not expecting to see you at his bedside.

“Idiot,” you mutter. “You’re always in my way and now look, you almost got yourself killed and it would’ve been my fault! How dare you, James…” The red is crawling up your neck like a brushfire as you berate him, and he takes it with a grin as you jabber on, putting his arms behind his head.

“Were you worried about me, love?” James smiles cheesily, catching your arm at its half-hearted attempt to slap him across the face.

“I was not. Stubborn people like you are hard to kill. I’m more annoyed that I can’t morally punch your face in since you have a concussion. Madame Pomfrey’s already healed your cheekbone.”

“That you broke,” he says matter-of-factly, taking a chance to kiss the palm of your hand. This concussion is working like a bottle of Felix Felicis. It’s endearing to see you taking care of him, whether you like it or not (even with the punches he’s sure it’ll come with).

“You’re sick in the head.”

“For you. I was trying to come tell you that I never took my eyes off the prize, but then of course you bludgeoned my face in before I could get sweet on yo—”

Your lips crash down on his, and nothing about it is delicate. It’s a month’s worth of yearning, imaginations coming to fruition as he grabs the back of your head to deepen the embrace. Your lips on his are hot and heady, and he could be easily convinced that he’s stuck there, cauterized to the shape of you.

“I know. I could feel you watching.” You breathe into his mouth, leaning up on his chest. His lips chase up again to meet yours, biting down on your bottom lip as you groan. He might like that noise better than the sound of your laughter. It’ll be fun to find out.

“Who won the Cup?”

Laughter spills out of your red, kiss-swollen lips as you pat his cheek gently, fingers grazing over his healed cheekbone.

“Not Gryffindor. But listen closely James, if you be a good boy and get past this concussion, I’ll make up for it by showing you how well I ride…”

He likes the sound of that, Quidditch Cup be damned. You see, James Potter never loses, ladies and gentlemen, not really—and well... there’s always next year.

—

“I like the way

you look at me

like you are

going to talk to me

or devour me

and I am fine with either.”

-N.R. Hart

taglist: @jsjcue

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#marauders x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #marauders era #james potter x you

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entitled-fangirl · 3 months

Text

His betrothed.

Barty Crouch Jr. x reader

Summary: The youngest Black sibling is getting near courting age. Regulus and Barty have a plan, and Sirius doesn't like it.

Warnings: the Black family literally, cursing, siblings fighting, idk

Author's note: I wrote this while I had a fever, so if it's horrendous, let's not judge :|

Part 2!

Masterlist

....................................................................

"Siri…?"

Sirius turned his head to look over his shoulder.

Sweet little Y/N Black was standing behind him with a worried look in her eyes.

Being the caring older brother he was, he pushed James slightly, making room for her to sit next to him at the Gryffindor table of the Great Hall. She accepted, sitting down gently, her expression never changing.

Remus saw the look as well, and seemed to be just as concerned, "What's going on?"

They weren't the only two marauders concerned. In fact, they all were.

When Sirius' sibling Y/N was sorted into Gryffindor, Sirius had physically cringed. He couldn't stand seeing his darling little sister go through the Black family's mental and physical abuse due to her house. At that point, away from Walburga's watch, the marauders had taken the girl under their wings. During the summer, she still remained in the Black household at Grimmauld Place with her twin Regulus. But during the school year, she was raised by Sirius.

Hence, where this situation had come from.

James threw an arm around the girl's shoulder, leaning close to her ear, "Whatever it is, you can tell us. That's what we're here for."

She simply stared at the plate in front of Remus across the table.

The four boys stared at each other, worried and unsure of what to do at this point.

Her small voice came out, "Mum is having me go to my first… meeting…. This winter…"

Sirius' hand had a steady grip on his fork, his knuckles turning white. His voice was low. Scarily low, "What."

Remus leaned forward to him, "Pads, control yourself in front of everyone."

Sirius' head lifted to him, "I would, but she's 17 fucking years old. Too young to be staring this… this shit…."

The girl remained unmoving, James' eyes never leaving her, "Y/N…?"

A small sigh came from her lips, "that's not all…"

Sirius looked as if he would explode. "Not…all?"

Peter finally peeped, "Is everything going to be okay?"

She looked up at him, "I'm not sure…"

Sirius rubbed his hands over his face before leaning on the table, "Alright, sweetheart. Tell me."

"Mum is… well… setting up… alliances…"

Sirius knew what that meant. Merlin, he knew what that meant. And he was angry. Beyond angry.

Remus' eyebrows furrowed, "…alliances?"

She nodded, her frame getting smaller as if she was shrinking into herself with every word, "It's…. Well it's when-"

Sirius interrupted, "Mum's marrying her off."

The table went silent, each boy trying to come to terms with what they had heard.

Finally, Peter spoke up, "to…. To who?"

All of their eyes were on her. Well, almost everyone's eyes.

She shrugged, "Mum hasn't told me yet."

James, who had been staring off past the siblings to a different table, was holding a slight smirk to his face. "I bet I can tell you who it is."

Y/N looked up to him with teary eyes, her emotions finally getting to her, "Who?"

His eyes never left the person, his head moving as if to point in that direction. Sirius and Y/N followed his gaze.

Barty Crouch Jr. sat at the Slytherin table, his eyes flickering up in her direction every few seconds. When he saw the entire table looking in his direction, he quickly looked down at his food, as if forcing himself to not look up at her again until they looked away.

Sirius' voice was practically a growl, "It's. Not. Gonna. Fucking. Happen."

James sighed, "I don't know if you get a choice, Pads."

Remus looked up at Y/N, who was near tears. His hand reached out, grabbing hers from across the table, "Hey. Are you alright little dove?"

That was their name for her. Little dove. She was no animangus. But, hoping to make her feel included, they had given her a name during her 3rd year. And it had stuck ever since.

She shrugged, her bottom lip quivering. "I'm not sure."

He nodded, "That's alright. We'll figure this out… Pads?"

Sirius was in his own world. His eyes flickered around the room at every person, as if anyone could jump out and take her from them.

When Regulus entered the Great Hall, Sirius immediately jumped up, walking to him. "Regulus…"

Regulus stopped, confused. Sirius never spoke to him unless it had to do with Y/N. "…what."

"I want you to tell me what the fuck Mum is doing to her."

Regulus sighed, "Let's…," his eyes wandered around, "Let's get away from listening ears."

…

"What the hell, Reg?!"

"Hear me out, Sirius!"

"No! You're letting Mum marry her away like a piece of fucking meat-"

"-THAT'S NOT TRUE!"

Sirius went quiet. The only sound in the hall was the occasional student that walked a few corridors over. His voice finally came out calm, "What… what do you mean?"

Regulus sighed, "It's… complicated."

"Yeah, I can fucking tell…"

"Crouch…," Regulus looked like he was ready to get hit by his brother, "he asked."

Sirius' eyebrows furrowed, "Asked for what?"

"Sirius, please. Don't make me spell it out."

"He asked for Y/N?"

Regulus nodded, "He's liked her for the longest time, really. Since I can remember. And when Mum mentioned that she was going to make arrangements for me soon, I panicked knowing she'd be soon after. I told Crouch, and he said he'd happily marry Y/N. And I helped him win Mum's favor." He looked back up at Sirius, "Look. Don't judge me. I'm doing what's best for her."

Sirius scoffed, "'what's best for her'? What's best is getting her away from the hellhole we call our family. They don't fucking deserve her. Marrying her to a fucking death eater, Reg? Not the brightest idea you've had. Merlin…"

Sirius slowly began to walk away until Reg spoke up again, "I thought it through, Siri. Swear to God."

The 7th year stopped, turning around once more, "…how?"

Reggie sighed again, "Crouch… he's… he's only a first generation death eater. There's not many responsibilities he has to hold. He's loyal only to himself and those he deems worthy."

Sirius thinks it over, "And would he be loyal to her?"

Regulus let out a small laugh, "Merlin. He is already."

When Sirius didn't answer, Regulus continued, "He may not be close to his father, but… it gives her options. If they decide to run away, he can protect them. And if she decides just to leave Bartimus, then his father could protect her on his own. Crouch brought it up to Mum as a way to give more connections between the death eaters and the Ministry. But, we both know. It was for her protection."

Sirius was staring to be slightly shocked at his brother's reasoning, "I…. Okay?"

Regulus gave a final statement. "And He'll treat her well, brother."

"How can you be sure?"

Reg shrugged, "Don't believe me? Make them interact. You'll see. He's like a loyal dog. He'll do anything for her."

Sirius sighed, "I should wring your neck. But I won't. Because you've thought this out so well. I won't say I'm agreeing with it. But… I'll let it grow a bit. To see where it goes."

Regulus smiles, "That's all I ask, brother."

….

Sirius entered the Great Hall once more, sitting in his spot with a huff. At this point, James is gently running his hands through the girl's hair. She's talking to Peter and Remus over an omelette, her mind far from the previous conversation.

He interrupts, "We're talking about this later. The four of us."

She turned, "Not me?"

Sirius' tone turned condescending, his voice harsh, "When have you ever been a part of the four of us? You're not a marauder."

James' hand in her hair immediately paused, Peter dropping his fork clumsily. Remus choked on his drink. But none of them said a word in her defense.

She stared at her brother with a guilty look that slowly morphed into slight hatred. Her voice was still as soft as always, but it held a bite to it, "Fine. I didn't want Mum to know I'm around the Black family traitor anyway." She stood up, leaving the table without another word.

Remus stood up, watching her go, "Dove?"

But she had already left.

She approached the Slytherin table, her red and gold tie standing out from that side of the room.

And Barty Crouch Jr. was already looking for her, noticing her leave from the Gryffindor table.

She stood behind him, quietly trying to speak up, "Excuse me?"

Barty's eyes closed. Her voice was so sweet. He never got to hear it. And she was trying to speak to him. This situation couldn't be better.

He turned around on the bench, a small smile gracing his face and a happy look in his eye, "Hello. What do you need?"

She pointed to where Regulus always sat, "Could I… maybe…?"

He looked over to the spot next to him before immediately, "Oh. Yes. Please."

She sat, finally taking note of the people around him. The most notable one being Lucius across the table.

Lucius held an arrogant look in his eyes, "What? The blood traitor finally got tired of you too?"

Barty's jaw clenched, "Watch your tone, Malfoy."

Malfoy snickered, leaning forward. "Why are you here, Black?"

Barty was becoming highly irritated, "Hey. What did I fucking say?"

Lucius held his hands up in a surrendering way, not saying a word, but his eyes were saying more than his mouth needed to.

She stood, "I'm sorry. This was a dumb idea…"

Barty grabbed her wrist. "No, please. I want you to sit."

She hesitantly does so.

A silence falls over the table before Barty breaks it, "Regulus hasn't been back since Sirius drug him out. Think he beat him up?"

She laughs, "No. I'm sure that just had a small fight is all."

Barty smiles, "I have a feeling I know what it's about."

She nods, deciding to avoid the subject. "Do you have classes today?"

He nods as well, "Just one. Potions. Tell me yours."

She pulls out her wand, waving it. A small piece of paper lands on the table, her entire schedule written on it. She begins to study it to give him an answer.

He leans over to her, peering at it slightly over her shoulder. He smiles, "You have astronomy tonight?"

She nods, "It's my favorite."

He points at one of the classes for the day. "I know where that is. Why don't I walk you?"

She shakes her head, "You don't have to. I know where it is, I just-"

His voice was a whisper, "-please. I would love to."

She decided to look at him finally, and when she did so, she found their faces to be inches apart, his deep brown eyes staring longingly into hers. She felt her face heat up, a light pink shade overtaking them. They stayed this way for a while before she decided to talk first, her voice softer than a whisper as she caught him staring at her lips, "Do you really want to marry me, Crouch?"

He smiled, "More than anything."

The moment sat for a while before she looked away, now a deep shade of red. "Perhaps you can walk me to class then."

"And a walk after dinner."

She looked up at him, "…a walk?"

He nodded, "Please."

He points at another class on the paper, "I can walk you to this one as well… if you'll have me?"

Her eyes soften as tried to see if this was a joke. If he had an ulterior motive. But he didn't.

Regulus came up from behind, completely unnoticed until Y/N felt a kiss to the top of her head and a small, "scoot over."

She did so, pushing herself closer to Barty, who held a smile on his face the entire time.

Regulus could feel the stares from the Gryffindor table. He looked up to meet their gazes, smiling in an almost mocking way at the sight of the two betrothed finally bonding.

She was still looking at Barty, "I…. Yes. I would…. I would like that very much."

He nodded, "Then it shall be done." He stood up, grabbing his books next to him, "I must get to potions, but I'll meet you by the Gryffindor common room entrance before your class, yes?" When she nodded, he gave a nod to her brother, "Regulus," then took his free hand, grabbing the girl's hand, kissing it gently, "Y/N." And with that, he left.

.................................................................

#barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #barty crouch fanfiction #barty crouch imagine #barty crouch jr imagine #barty crouch jr fanfiction #barty crouch jr x reader #david tennant #harry potter fanfiction #the marauders era #marauders fanfiction #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #peter pettigrew #regulus black #lucius malfoy

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cherryslyce · 1 year

Text

Familial Impasses | Regulus Black

Synopsis: Pressure arises as a familiar face becomes embroiled in political trouble and moral ambivalence. Alternatively: As James Potter’s younger sibling, you fight for Regulus.

Pairing: Regulus Black x (Adopted) Potter!Reader

Notes + WC: 5.4k , James and Sirius are so chaotic.

The Potter household has long been a foundational pillar of love and ease for you. Plumes of cotton clouds were perpetually suspended above the sumptuous manor, and you distinctly remember the day you arrived in front of the regal front yard, donning new robes and the Potter surname.

Even amidst the gloomiest of days, Potter Manor remained unblemished by the sheen of greys and drops of heavy rain. Your parents were tenderhearted folk, often unable to properly reign in the boisterous force that was your brother. James was the apple of your eye when you first arrived in the lived-in home at the ripe age of eight.

Under the near-yellow lights of the entryway, he took you under his wing the second his eyes befell on yours.

Yet, your reminiscing did little to quell the fiery frustration that singed at your patience. After so many years of tumultuous adventures and shared laughter, you felt everything drown away as the forefront of your mind became consumed by the imperious demands he was layering onto you.

“James. You are being absolutely ridiculous right now, do you know that?” You huff out, arms crossed as you stare hotly ahead.

Sirius is settled beside your brother, eyebrows drawn together as an uncharacteristically firm frown decorates his face. James clicks his tongue and pinches the bridge of his nose as he tries to catch your eyes, “Y/N, we’re being serious here. Siri and I are graduating soon and we won’t be able to look out for you when we’re gone.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” You mused stubbornly, fixating your gaze on the sprigs of tulips peeking at you from the polished coffee table. “Besides, what the hell are you even protecting me from? Regulus? He would never harm me.”

“You don’t know that.” Sirius interjects, hands rubbing together as James shoots you an admonishing look.

Astonished by the field of conversation, you shake your head as you finally face the two boys, “Sirius, this is your brother we’re talking about! Merlin, if anyone said anything like this about me, you’d both have their head, would you not?” Your narrowed eyes dart towards Sirius as he sighs, placing his hand up to placate you.

“It’s different, Y/N. Regulus is going to take up my father’s mantle soon, and there’s no doubt that he’s already been brainwashed into following the Dark Lord.” Sirius mumbles, face now looking weary as he gazes out of the window behind you.

You bite the inside of your cheek at the mention of the Dark Lord, aware that Regulus had been researching the man for a few months now. Internally, you found solid reason to believe in what your brother was advocating, but your longstanding friendship with Regulus turned you away from the decision to abandon him.

“I’m not going to stop being friends with him.” You announce, eyebrow slanting up as Sirius made an effort to protest your proclamation. “But, if it eases your worries, we’ll strictly talk about school work.”

James and Sirius share a long look of consideration before your brother turns to you and sighs, “Fine, but we won’t like it.” His acquiesce fills you with tepid relief, but you could count it as a temporary victory.

In the stirring waves of your mind, you were completely aware that you’d make little effort to actually change your dynamic with the younger Black brother, knowing that the boy was much more capable of independent thinking than given credit for.

The remainder of your Yule Break is spent buried in swaths of parchments and tomes with the occasional migraine from James’ antics. A cavernous pit materialized in your chest as you seemed to gradually wither away from stress, mind carouseling around the plethora of O.W.L. exams you needed to study for.

On the penultimate day before you, James, and Sirius were due to return to Hogwarts, a familiar black-banded owl came fluttering to your bedroom window. Clambering around the strewn leaflets of paper and open textbooks on your floor, you gaily greet the owl with a wide grin, gently grasping at the letter between its beak.

“It’s always nice to see you, Belenus.” You coo at the perceptive bird.

Cracking your window open further, you muffle an amused huff as the owl teeters through, resting straightly on your windowsill as it examines the disarray of your room.

“Er, it’s been a long day.” You wave in elaboration, not perturbed by the near judgemental look that flashes across the bird’s eyes. “Did Reggie ask you to wait for my reply? The lack of patience in that boy, I swear.”

Sitting down at your dimly-lit desk, you carefully unfurl the letter with trembling hands, heart skipping at the sight of the boy’s penmanship.

Dear Y/N,

I hope that everything is well for you. It is a shame that we are not able to convene before the end of break, however, I will give you your gift when we get back to the castle. I hope that Sirius is not giving you too much trouble, mother and father were never able to control his rambunctious behavior. However, he strangely settles after a cup of peppermint tea (his favorite brand is Lady Bramble’s).

I know you are brimming with anxiety from our last conversation, and for that, I deeply apologize. You will be pleased to know that I have given it much thought as per my promise to you, and I think we should talk more about it when we get back. I have not yet made any permanent decisions.

I have much to tell you after break. I miss you dearly.

R.A.B

You suppress a smile at the last few words, head feeling light with unadulterated joy. Threading together inklings of composure, you sit up straight and begin to draft your response, fingers unsteady with shreds of nervousness.

Reggie,

The week has been long and difficult without you, I must admit. I hope you are faring better than me with your homework (I fear that I may not make it). James and Sirius pulled me aside a few days ago to advise me against remaining friends with you. It is growing dire, Reg. I don’t want to sour this exchange by rehashing our last conversation, but I want you to know that even though my love and loyalty for you runs deep, I am unwavering in my stance against You-Know-Who.

If you are giving me my gift in person, I suppose I will do the same. As for the tea, thank you for the idea. Perhaps, I can test it on James to see if their uncanny likeness extends to calming agents as well.

Delighted to hear from you, I miss you so much.

Y/N

Once you reread the passage with attentive eyes, you nod once to yourself and prepare your wax seal. Weaving around the flush of work on your rug, you carefully give Belenus your letter.

“Give him my regards, will you?” You whisper, running your index finger along the owl’s head. The creature tilts its head before shuffling through your window again, taking flight in the blink of an eye.

Just as you begin to fall into a peaceful lull, elbows propped against your windowsill, a thunderous knock against your door has you nearly falling into the pane of glass.

“Y/N! Come outside with us!” Sirius’ shouts bleed through the thick wood as if it were made of thin air, and you roll your eyes sky high, grateful that your mother was out shopping and not napping.

“Hold your horses!” You yell back, scurrying over to fling your door open, heart still stuttering in its beats at the clamorous interruption.

As you crack open your door with an unimpressed look, you’re met with Sirius’ shit-eating grin and a highly entertained James holding a pile of plastic-wrapped goodies. Your brother juggles the crinkling jumble before he balances one in his hand, flashing it around as he practically vibrates on the spot.

“What’s that saying again, patience is virtue?” You mumble sarcastically.

Sirius shakes his head and waves you off, “Being virtuous is boring.”

“Right. Where did you get all of these from anyway?” You question breathlessly, reaching forward to snag one of the items from James’ arms.

Plecky’s Triple Ruby Ice Cream. The bulky square is icy to the touch, the packaging’s lurid colors buzzing against your eyes as Sirius begins to impatiently tug you down the hallway.

“No time to explain, we have to eat all of these before mum and dad get home.” James offhandedly hums, marching behind you and Sirius as you pace down the stairs.

“I hate you both, do you guys not have to study for your N.E.W.T exams?” You huff, batting at Sirius when he squeezes your shoulders.

James lets out a hearty chuckle at your words and Sirius clicks his tongue goodheartedly before whispering to you, “Nope! Moony and Lils are going to help us after break.”

You sigh into the air, hands limply flying up as you mutter lightly, “I don’t understand how they put up with you both, honestly.”

James bounds forwards past you both, flinging himself through the open door and into the pool of sunlight as he calls back, “We’re both extremely loveable. Now, I bet I can eat more of these than you!”

The next time you feel any semblance of peace is the day you return to Hogwarts, school work long forgotten about when you hurry to meet with Regulus in the astronomy tower. You had practically inhaled your dinner, leg bouncing with uninhibited anticipation the moment you locked eyes with your devastatingly pretty friend.

Once you’re situated atop the staircase, you quickly survey the open room for the boy, eyes dancing across the atrium when you find that you’re alone. The stars begin to peek through the canvas of the sky, thinning streams of clouds drifting away as the mottles of luminous spheres grow in number.

The wind whistles sharply as it bats against the aged stones of the castle walls, providing a steady white noise as you wait patiently against one of the many iron railings. Only a few moments after you grow comfortable in your spot, you hear the faint padding of footsteps ascending towards you.

Regulus’ eyes widen imperceptibly when they land on your lax figure, his body jolting to hurriedly close in on yours, “You got here early. Are you not cold?”

The boy reaches for your hand, humming when he finds your fingertips cold to the touch. Shaking your head, you deftly wrap your arms around him as you mumble into his ear, “It’s so good to see you, Reggie.”

Regulus’ arms find themselves around your waist as he reciprocates your hug, nuzzling against your neck as he lets out a low hum. Your relationship was not clearly defined by any title, nor was it barred by any conventional lines, and for the most part, you wouldn’t exactly say it was platonic in nature.

However, affection was limited to hugs and handholding, the situation between your families and the state of the political sphere too convoluted for anything beyond that.

“How was your break, love?” He asks with a soft voice, fingers ghosting against your hips as his arms loosen so he can crane back to look at you.

You smile and drop your head onto his shoulder, “It was good. Though, Sirius got a bit ill yesterday.”

“Oh?” Regulus’ voice edges on concern, but he can decipher the amused hint in your tone to know it isn’t worthy of unease.

“We ate a load of ice cream the day before, and Sirius is weak to bets.” You answer, not missing the light chuckle that Regulus releases.

A few beats of peaceful silence ensues before Regulus detangles himself from you, eyes searching your face as conflict flickers through his eyes. A heavy burden seems to weigh against his shoulders as he huffs out a sigh too considerable for someone so young.

“What’s on your mind, Reg?” You mumble, hands dancing up to rest upon his taut shoulders.

Regulus frowns minutely before he throws his head to the side and indulges, “I won’t last much longer.”

“Pardon? Helga, are you alright?” Your eyes are blown wide as you try to catch the boy’s eyes. “Regulus, don’t dance around this, tell me what the hell you’re saying.”

Regulus’ shoulders give a shake as he swallows a dry laugh, facing you again with serious eyes, “Sirius had the right idea from the start, and I was too blind to see that I should have packed and ran for the hills, too.”

Shock blisters across your mind as you reel back to process the information, mouth drawn into a small gape as you assess the boy’s expression. “What’s with the sudden change? I mean not that I hate it, frankly, I quite like this, but you were still uncertain just days ago.”

Regulus mulls over your question for a few moments, hands moving to encircle your arms as he muses, “I’ve been corresponding with my Uncle Alphie since the start of break, and he was able to give me a rather impartial crash course of everything. From then, I just had to pick up the pieces stripped away and build on the bare bones…” His words taper off as his mouth furls into a small frown.

“Love, you’re going to give me a hernia from all this roundabout talking.” You jokingly reprimand, eyebrows raising as Regulus nervously cracks his neck.

“My parents are not good people, and I’ve seen those that Bellatrix surrounds herself with–” the word death eaters was notably eschewed, “and, well, it all seems like drivel now. Besides, I don’t want to fight on any side of any battle if I have to lose you. Your letter was a pretty jarring wake up call.” He finishes, his hands now unconsciously moving you closer to him.

“Well, fuck.” You whisper into the air, mouth curling into a content smile as Regulus relaxes. “I didn’t want to lose you either, and I’m glad that I don’t have to. We’ll figure something out, but I won’t ever let you step foot back in that house ever again.” You promise with a firm voice.

Regulus nods and his eyes shine with conviction, the promise quelling the storms of doubt in his bones, and erasing the wedge between you both.

“Can I do something?” Regulus whispers, eyes capturing yours with an entrancing glimmer.

“As long as it's not throwing me over this railing, then yes.” You whisper back coyly.

Regulus chuckles, face now inches away from yours as he shakes his head, “Never.”

As the little promise escapes into the air, Regulus tugs you into him, lips finding your own as he pours every inkling of passion and love coursing through his veins into his ministrations. Your hand tangles in his curls as he continues to heatedly kiss you, the silent push-and-pull between you both now long forgotten.

Humming against his lips, you give a small tug to his hair before you pull back with a shaky breath, “There’s no going back, Reg.”

“Good.” His words are hushed as he places his forehead on yours, “You’re my only constant. Not a bloody thing in this world I’d rather do than be with you.”

“Is this the gift you were talking about?” You mumble, suppressing the tsunami of heat threatening to dissolve your self-restraint as you peer at the breathless boy.

“No, but forget about it for now.” He hums, “I hope you don’t have anywhere to be, I intend on keeping you here until curfew, love.”

You laugh lightly and run your thumb across his cheek, “Bloody troublesome, you are. I can see the resemblance between you and Sirius now.”

“Please don’t bring my brother up while I’m trying to love you.” Regulus huffs, swallowing your next retort with his lips as he dives back in to claim your undivided attention again.

Luckily, you both made it back to your dorms before curfew came to nip at your tangled figures in a slew of detention slips and reprimands. The shift in your relationship was noticeable, but it did little to hinder your day-to-day routine, the both of you still trembling under the weight of your studies.

It was the Friday of your first week back when James and Sirius bounded towards your hunched figure, your hands littered with inky streaks and eyes squinting painfully at your textbooks. The library upheld a faint degree of chatter, and you were itching to track down Regulus (the boy was likely off at Quidditch practice).

“Heya, kiddo!” Sirius beams, slinking his way over with a respectable amount of carelessness as a few students side-eye him. James is beside him, hands in pocket, sporting a pitiful frown.

“What’s up? And what’s with the frown?” You muse, stretching your back as they both pull out the chairs across from you.

Sirius snickers and leans over to obnoxiously whisper to you, “Lily gave him a good scolding earlier.”

“Sorry to miss it. What’d you do? We all know it was your fault.” You perk an eyebrow up at your brother, refusing to back down even as he throws his hands up with a flabbergasted look.

“Well–er…” Sirius trails off, mouth agape as you could practically see his brain stuttering in its hollow glory.

James sends a resounding kick to the boy, and shakes his head as he turns to you, “Nothing, just a disagreement about a certain Slytherin.”

“Severus?” You inquire, lips tugging into a frown at the thought of your (reluctant) Potions tutor.

Sirius huffs at the mention of the boy and clicks his tongue, “No, not Sniv–”

“Finish that remark and I will maim you, dear boy.” You narrow your eyes, quill pointed threateningly in his direction.

Sirius throws his hands up in surrender and opts to shuffle one of your open books over to him, eyes running along the words with vague interest. James’ eyebrows furrow and he seems to be debating on saying something when you continue your prodding, “So not Severus. Don’t tell me… Were you both arguing about Reggie?”

“What? No!” James refutes, head shaking furiously as irritation stews in your gut.

“Don’t lie to me, you don’t care about any Slytherins other than Reggie and Severus. But why the hell were you talking about my social life, again?” You huff, arms crossing as you see Sirius tensely peek up from his reading.

James sputters for a moment before he breathes in deeply, a stern expression overtaking his face as he straightens his posture, “Lily agrees that I should be more… open minded about your friendship with him–”

You perk up and throw your hands into the air, “See!”

James puts a hand up and shoots you a small look, “However, I am your brother, and it’s in your best interest to distance yourself from him.”

“My best interest, or yours?” You ask with narrowed eyes, beginning to pack up your supplies. “James, we can’t keep having this conversation. Why don’t you try sitting the both of us down and having a completely reasonable, civil conversation with us for once?”

“Well–” He begins, a frown pressing down on his features.

You shake your head and huff, “No more excuses. Either you put on your big boy pants and try to understand where I’m coming from, or you can continue to mope, but if you choose the latter, don’t even think about approaching me until graduation.”

Without another word, you sling your bag over your shoulder and march away, ignoring Sirius’ calls after you, your textbook still in his hands. As you storm through the winding corridors, evading the swaths of students milling around, you set your sights on the Quidditch Pitch.

The sun escapes into the stacks of pillowy clouds as you round the field, giving you an opportunity to peer up into the skies and track down Regulus, a pleased hum escaping your throat as you see the team begin to descend from the air.

Shifting your weight from leg-to-leg, you wait patiently as Regulus hurries to break away from the circle of Slytherin players, nodding distractedly at Rosier. A few moments later, Regulus strides over to you with a flickering grin, eyes alight with lingering endorphins and excitement.

“Love, what are you doing here?” He breathes out, dropping a small kiss to your cheek as he maneuvers his broom to his left hand, leaving his right hand to brush his curls away from his face.

Beaming at the boy, you hum, “Just wanted to see you. And perhaps talk to you about something.”

Regulus tilts his head and nods agreeably, “What’s on your mind?”

“I’m thinking about telling my parents about us, and maybe you can ask your Uncle Alphard about y’know… leaving your house?” You mutter, fingers twitching with nervousness as a look of consideration passes through Regulus’ eyes.

“Well, I don’t mind your parents knowing, but I also don’t mind them not knowing. I don’t want you to get into any trouble,” He confesses, rolling his arm back to stretch his sore shoulders. “As for my situation, I think my uncle would be willing to help me get emancipated. I don’t want to intrude in his home though, my mother would probably blow it up if I stayed there.”

“So don’t.” You hurriedly say.

He rubs your arm as he hums, “Don’t?”

“Don’t go to your Uncle’s. Stay with us.” You mumble, eyes pleading with him.

“Love–” He starts, eyebrows drawn together.

A resounding voice echoes from across the pitch before he can finish, diverting both of your attention away from one another, “Hey, Black! Don’t dawdle! Avery said he wants you here for strategy!”

“Go ahead.” You whisper, patting Regulus’ arm with a reassuring smile as you begin to back away.

“Hey,” He whispers back, stepping forward to grab your hand with a fatigued frown, “I love you.”

“I love you too, we’ll talk later, yeah?” You muse, lips furling upward as you squeeze his hand in farewell.

You linger ankle-deep in the damp grass for a few more moments, watching as Regulus disappears into the distance with one last glance over his shoulder.

Almost like a robot being rewound, you spin on your heel and march back to the castle, mind racing with threads of words to send to your parents.

Once in your dorm, you immediately launch yourself on your bed, head craning down for indistinguishable reels of minutes, occasionally stopping mid-sentence to ponder on your next thoughts. When you lift your quill up from the parchment with finality, your eyes dart from the paper to your window, squinting with a light bristle as painful clouds of blue mull in your vision, the lighting in the room now too dim for comfortable writing and reading.

As the sky grows gloomier, the wisps of lingering clouds withdraw into invisibility and you’re left to race against time as you fold up the finished letter to your parents.

Dear Mum & Dad,

I hope that you are both well! Please be sure to get lots of rest! Also, may we stock up on Lady Bramble’s peppermint tea?

Rest assured, I am studying well. James and Sirius are as well (surprisingly).

I was wondering if I could ask for a very large favor that would require the utmost discretion…

To be direct, Regulus and I are together, and he needs to find sanctuary away from his parents. His uncle is willing to aid him with the legal processes of the matter, but he has nowhere to turn to for the summer breaks.

I know this is a lot to ask, and I also know it isn’t ideal (for a multitude of reasons), but I will be forever grateful for even the slightest bit of deliberation. Please get back to me as soon as you can. Also, please don’t tell James.

Your favorite child,

Y/N

The spiral of waiting threatened to tip you over the verge of complete impulsivity, one that would lead to you exposing your relationship prematurely and the subsequent Regulus-hunting that would ensue on your brother’s part.

It had only been a couple of days since you sent off the letter to your parents, and at first you had been suspicious that your brother had somehow found out. After your disagreement with him in the library, he had been strangely distant, only occasionally giving you long, indistinguishable looks.

Your sudden withdrawal from your brother and his circle spurred deep concern from your friends, and especially from Regulus, who managed to subtly bring up the development during every conversation you had with him.

“Are you nervous?” You ask with a small frown, watching Regulus fiddle with his pot of ink.

The boy shakes his head and flicks the ebony glass, “Not really. Rosier has been keeping an eye out on their new strategies and formations.” Regulus finally looks up and leans across the table toward you, “You’re coming to watch, right?”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you hum lightly, “When have I ever missed one of your games?”

“Right… and you’ll cheer for us?” His eyes run along your face as you furrow your eyebrows.

“Yes… like I always do. Are we playing twenty questions now, love?” You huff out with a breathy laugh, intrigue only swelling higher when Regulus says nothing and gives you a small, uneasy grin. “Okay, what’s up? You’re looking at me the way I look at Severus when I accidentally mince my cowbane instead of chopping it.”

“Poor Severus.” Regulus hums, eyes retracting into a sheen glaze as he reminisces on your ineptitude in Potions. “Anyway, it’s just… we’re playing Gryffindor.” He continues, mouth parting slightly when you squint at him.

“Yes, Regulus, I know. Are you alright, dear?” You enunciate with blatant concern, head tilting to survey the boy’s uncharacteristic apprehension.

He clears his throat softly and shrugs, “I’m alright, I just don’t want you to be put in a weird place because your brother is also playing.”

“Merlin, Regulus. So this is what you’re getting at.” You click your tongue with a small smile, reaching over to pat his hand, “Don’t stress yourself out, I always cheer for you.”

“Uh? Ouch.” A familiar voice echoes from your right, tearing through the little bubble of comfort you’ve established with Regulus.

Swiveling your head over to the interruption, you narrow your eyes at the perpetrator and huff a small Hello, James.

“Yeah, hi.” He blinks emphatically, “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Regulus flips his hand over and threads his fingers with yours as you direct your full attention to James, “About cheering for Regulus? Well, I’m not.”

James holds up a hand and sighs, “Okay, that’s a whole different discussion to be had. But I’m not here to argue. Sirius and I,” James leans to the side and gestures, but when he meets nothing but dusty air, he chokes on his spit and fully turns around, “Sirius?”

You and Regulus exchange a concerned glance as James continues to talk to one of the bookshelves, “Sirius, what are you doing?”

A fragile silence collects in the air as the three of you seem to share a collective perplexion, all waiting with bated breath. Regulus runs a hand through his hair as he frowns at James, likely questioning the boy’s sanity.

Finally, Sirius’ broad figure emerges from behind a bookshelf, eyes wide with sheepishness as he makes eye contact with you and Regulus. “Hey, guys.”

“Sirius.” Regulus greets with a stiff nod, fingers tightening against yours.

“Why were you behind a bookshelf?” You hum, wrestling down an amused smile as James presses Sirius with a similar questioning look.

Sirius chuckles dryly and walks over to your table, sitting on the edge as he slides a book toward you, “I was waiting. I honestly thought you’d hex Prongs to next Yule.”

“Smart. What’s this?” You pick up the tome, exhaling loudly once you see it’s the book that you left in Sirius’ possession after you stormed away days prior.

Sirius taps his fingers against the table and gives an exaggerated nod to James, throwing his arm towards an empty chair as your brother shuffles awkwardly on the sidelines.

“Right.” James muses, hurrying to take a seat as Sirius slides over to make room. “We’re here because we wanted to talk to you.” He chews on his bottom lip and glances at Regulus, “The both of you.”

Regulus nods and looks to you for confirmation before sitting up, “We’re listening.”

“Well, it’s just that… you can’t be that bad.” James says, rubbing his shoulder as he nods at Regulus.

Regulus rubs his thumb along your hand as he coughs out a laugh, “Uh, thanks. You too?”

“And if it’s true that you’re… changing, then Sirius and I are very happy at the end of the day.” James finishes, now more confident as Sirius reaffirms his statement with his own light hum. Sirius rubs a hand down his mouth as he seems to debate on what to say to his brother, eyes flickering between Regulus and the far wall.

“Well, I’m glad then.” Regulus adds, shooting you a relieved smile.

Sirius clears his throat and paces towards Regulus, clapping his hand on the boy’s shoulder as his voice thickens with emotion, “I’m really relieved, Reggie.”

“Yeah, me too. It will be different now.” Regulus promises with a whisper, smiling up at his brother with resolution.

As Regulus and Sirius have their little moment, James knocks his shoe against yours to grab your attention. “Here. This came with my mail today. Don’t worry, I didn’t peek or anything.”

Quirking an eyebrow up, you slowly reach forward as James extends an envelope to you, eyes brimming with curiosity as he surveys you. “From Mum and Dad?” You murmur rhetorically, getting an affirming grunt from James in return.

Ripping open the thick paper, you deftly extract the folded letter with coiled anxiety, head beginning to feel heavy as you anticipate the letter’s contents. Unfurling the crisp pages, your eyes run over the passage of ink, sinking into concentration as everything fades into the backdrop of your mind.

Y/N,

You should finish the rest of your other teas first, however, I bought a few tins of the peppermint tea as they were on sale.

I cannot say I am surprised by the development of your relationship with Regulus, you and James were always attached to the Black brothers since youth. We are not able to house the boy comfortably for the sake of safety, it is entirely too unpredictable to have both runaway heirs under one roof. However, your father and I discussed the matter and we have decided that Regulus may be safe at Godric’s Hollow for the summer. The plot is untraceable and not widely known about outside of our family. We will send along a portkey for him to take near the end of the school year.

Your father is expecting an explanation when we see you next.

Please look out for your brother.

Your father and I love you lots, dear.

With love,

Mum

A cold pin of disbelief rocks through you for a few moments before blind elation envelopes it and has you sighing into the air. Dropping the letter down, you smile widely and practically fly over the table, grabbing at Regulus’ tie. The boy darts his eyes to you in alarm before his eyes light up at the joy written across your expression, “Love?”

“You’re going away for the summer.” You whisper enigmatically, a grin stretching at your lips when Regulus’ eyes widen further.

“I am?”

Nodding, you lean forward and press your lips against his, “My parents gave the okay.”

Regulus laughs brightly and pushes up from his seat, cupping your face as he reciprocates your kiss. You both continue to exchange affection as Sirius and James drift off to the side, disgruntled and looking anywhere but at you both.

Amidst running your hands into Regulus’ curls, you vaguely hear James muttering under his breath.

“Sirius, you better go wrench your brother away before I make you an only child.”

masterlist

#regulus black #regulus black imagine #regulus x reader #regulus black x reader #regulus black fluff #regulus black angst #regulus black scenario #the noble house of black #harry potter imagine #harry potter series #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #regulus black x you #marauders era

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hyuckkaiji · 8 months

Text

my love - ominis gaunt x f!reader

summary; pt.2 to only mine. Ominis has loved you since the moment he met you. He found the universe cruel to give him such a love yet allow you to love his best friend. But now you're his, and he can never let you go. Not after all he did to get you in the first place. Ominis!pov up until the actual smut then it's kinda dual!pov pt.3: ominis , pt.3 sebastian

word count; 5.1k

warnings; 18+, explicit sexual content, dark themes, dubcon, porn with a plot, dark!ominis, sub/dom dynamics, mentions of cheating/infidelity, manipulation, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, If I'm gonna be real with y'all ... yandere!ominis

note; in love with this man, need him to treat me like this. idc if he locks me up in his basement as long as I'm with him. maybe went a lil overboard. Second ever smut 🥴🫶 also ik I didn't specify but the spell he used locked her in the house so she couldn't run away 🤪

The memory of meeting you is ingrained in Ominis' mind, every part of you is. The sound of your laugh, the smell of your hair, the feel of your skin against his. You are undoubtedly irrefutably the most beautiful creature to have ever walked this earth. He's known that since he was fifteen.

But you didn't love him back, much to his dismay. Although he could understand it. Who would love him? Not even his own family did. No, he didn't fault you for not loving him. He faulted you for loving Sebastian Sallow.

He would tell himself he understood, of course he understood. He loved Sebastian too, Sebastian was one of only three people he had ever loved. He understood it, he did not blame you, he understood it, he did, he swore he did. But he didn't, not really, and as time went on, his lack of understanding only furthered.

And he began to blame you, such an intelligent witch, and yet you continued to be fool when it came to Sebastian. You watched him make all the wrong decisions, for merlin's sake, aided him in those decisions. You not only stood by but stood with Sebastian as he delved deeper and deeper into the dark arts, all in hopes of saving Anne.

Constantly defending his decline into utter insanity, "If it were my sister..." But you didn't have siblings, Ominis did, and he would never do what Sebastian was doing. It wasn't right. When would you stop being such a fool? He told you and told you and told you some more how bad the dark arts truly are. But you always did favor ignoring his warnings.

Did you just not care about what he had to say? No, you cared, you told him you cared, and he knew you spoke truly, but you cared about Sebastian's happiness more. Even when he couldn't take it, even when he begged you to speak some sense into Sebastian, you defended your lover. "Would you not use the unforgivables to save a loved one?" For you he may, but he had pushed that thought away, doubling down, telling you under no circumstances would he ever.

His last straw was the killing curse, the bloody killing curse. There was no coming back from that. He could no longer stand by his friend, his brother, really. The only family he had, he couldn't stand by Sebastian when he wouldn't even stand by his own blood for using such heinous magic. He had expected you to side with him. You weren't that much of a fool. His heart broke when you didn't, Sebastian it was always Sebastian. You begged him not to tell, Sebastian had good reason for his actions. No one need know what he did.

According to you, Sebastian always had good reason, and you begged so prettily, the word please sounded so right coming from your lips. Until he remembered why you were saying, "please," why you were begging. But he agreed none the less, agreed to keep Sebastian's secret. But that was a lie, a lie he swore to take to his grave. Sebastian had gone too far.

Ominis hadn't slept. In fact, he was on his fourth cup of coffee. Tea, tea, you had told him, with some of the other ladies, wives, of Feldcroft. But tea does not take all night. He had opened up a book when you left, opting to read until your return.

He had wanted to beg you to stay in with him, wanted to let his hands roam your bare skin, wanted to drop to his knees, and hike your leg over his shoulders then and there. But he is a gentleman. So he decided to wait until you got back home to satiate his desires, you wouldn't be long and he's not an animal, he could wait.

Waited he did, waited until the book began to bore him. Waited until the moon hid away, waited until the vibrant colors of dawn began to paint the sky. You were like this sometimes. He had learned to work around it. So, like the good husband he is, he waited. Other men would have demanded you stayed. Other men would have gone out and dragged you back home, beat you bloody perhaps. But he isn't like that he loves you and he'll work around your moods. You always come back to him any how.

He knows it's just one of your moods or moments as he calls them. Those times where you think you want to leave him, where you think you'd be able to. But you know and he knows, he's all you have and you'll come back. He'll wait until you feel better, but he'll not sleep without by his side.

So there he sat, swirling a fourth cup of coffee, with just a hint of milk and sugar. He didn't like it too sweet. The sun not yet fully in the sky when he hears you shuffling your way to the front door. Perhaps you thought he'd still be asleep. He did enjoy extra time in bed on his days off. Perhaps you thought you could climb into bed with him and pretend you hadn't been out contemplating running away, again.

You did that semi-often. He would pretend to be asleep, he would pretend not to notice you'd walked your night away, lost in that pretty head of yours. But he knew, he knows everything about you. It doesn't bother him the way you feel, not really. He would love it if you loved him back. Hell, he'd be over the moon about it, but it's not important. You can hate him, he doesn't really care, as long as you're his, your feelings don't really matter.

As long as you sleep by his side at night, as long as you have breakfast with him every morning, as long as you welcome him home with false kisses in the evenings, as long as you quiver when his cock enters you, he's perfectly happy letting you have your little day dreams about leaving.

Something about tonight had felt different, though. He had felt off. It was not long before dawn when he let his worries get the best of him, the sky more dark than light when he cast his spell. His intuition was right, it always was.

Sebastian Sallow was in Feldcroft. Ominis should have been more diligent with his wards, he knew he had been getting slack. It had been so many years now, he thought surely Sebastian would have moved on by now. But no, he supposes, had roles been reversed, he would not have moved on either. It's his own fault, he should have never slacked on his wards. He would need to remedy his mistake.

Perhaps you hadn't run into Sebastian, perhaps it had just been a normal walk for you. No, Ominis knows Sebastian, even after all these years, he knows him. He found his way to you, his perfect little wife. Gods help him if he has touched you in any way.

How to deal with this dilemma? Oblivate maybe. No he doesn't feel right casting such a spell on you, a good husband would never. He needs more information before-

"Husband." Merlin, how he loves hearing you say that. Yes, yes, he is your husband, you needn't ever speak his name again. Only call him husband, stake your claim on him, call him yours. Yes, your husband. Your good husband, your sweet husband.

"Wife." His voice is calm, he looks over in your direction. Wand in one hand, coffee in the other. "You did not sleep, darling." A statement. "You did not come home, I couldn't sleep without you." True.

"I-I-" You didn't continue, letting the awkward silence settle, thick and heavy. "Come sit, my love, I was worried when you did not come home, but as you said, this is Feldcroft, so I did not necessarily worry for your safety." A lie, normally true, but tonight had been different, "Do not take that the wrong way. I always worry for your safety, I only meant-"

"I know what you meant, husband." You tossed your coat over an armchair before sitting next to Ominis. He set his wand and coffee to the side on a small table, uncrossing his legs, patting his lap for you to rest your head. A common gesture, he enjoys the way your hair feels like woven silk between his fingers. You obeyed, such a good wife, his wife.

You wiggled a bit before finding a comfortable spot on his lap. He was still in the same outfit. Though he was only in his dark blue trousers and his white button-down shirt. "Where were you?" His fingers started their routine, your hair was knotted, more than usual. His fingers gently worked out the knots regardless.

"Walking, I'm sorry, I should have come home. Should have come back to you." Liar, his fingers twitched, wanting to grab you by your hair and force you to speak the truth. He knows where you were. He always knows where you are. Just as he always knows where Sebastian is.

It was one of his main reasons for becoming an auror. Of course, he enjoyed his job and enjoyed taking down dark wizards, scum of the earth. But his main reason was to keep Sebastian away from you, to keep you all to himself. You, you have been his reason for everything, his reason for living. His need for you is insatiable.

Before he met you, had Sebastian went down this dark path he might have mourned his friend, would have left his life but never betrayed him, never turned him in. But after you, you his sweet wife, his one true love. You're the reason Sebastian is on the run, this is really all your fault. If only you had loved him to begin with, he would have never needed to get rid of Sebastian.

Never needed to do all that he has done, for you, he did it all for you. Do not misunderstand, he regrets nothing but still it must be acknowledged, he is no betrayer by nature, he is only what you have made him.

"Speak the truth, y/n." He has no tolerance for liars, your falsities he could deal with but blatant lies, he could not. You shot up from his lap, moving to look in his face. Though his eyes could not see the worry etched into your features, he could feel it radiating off of you.

"Ominis." He perfers when you call him husband, but his name has never not sounded heavenly on your lips. "I speak the truth. Why do you accuse me otherwise?" Do you think him a fool? Blatant lies, by the gods, he never took you for a liar, yet here you are. He is a fool. He stands quickly, grabbing his wand.

"Ominis." You sound afraid, your voice coming out in a slight whimper. You've never sounded afraid of him before, something about it sends a jolt to his cock. You should sound afraid. He is a powerful wizard, after all, one of the most renowned aurors of your time. Him and his partner are responsible for putting almost half of the new prisoners in Azkaban, several he managed to capture on his own.

You should be afraid of him, you should respect him, you should love him. After all this fucking time and everything he has done for you, given for you, why don't you love him? Why is it still Sebastian. You would rather live a life on the run, a life of a criminal, than be with him?

He casts the spell while you still cower before him, one of his own creation. One, powerful witch you are, even you could not take down. "What...what was that?" Still whimpering, he'll give you a reason to whimper, a reason to beg.

Too long he has been the gentleman, the good auror, the perfect husband. Clearly, you crave something different than what he's been providing. "A spell."

"Cleary." You snap, fear gone, back again is his angry little wife. He loves you, anger and all, but dear, this not the time. His hand connects with your cheek, the sound of the slap vibrating in the silent house. He can smell the tinge of blood in the air, he must have broken your lip. He does not know his own strength, he should not have struck you so hard. No, you deserved this, he needs to teach you a lesson. He grips your face harshly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He knows it's bothers you, makes you squirm to look a blind man in the eyes.

"You will not speak to me like that again. Unless you enjoy being struck?" You did not respond, at a loss for words he supposed. He's never been harsh with you, never even raised his voice at you. He can be a cruel man, truthfully he is a cruel man, just never to you. It's a side of him he has made sure you were never subject to.

He leaned down, until your noses were almost touching. He could feel your eyes scan his face, hear your short rapid breathes. Fear or anger? He wished you would speak. "Do you understand, wife?" He could barley hear you and he has superior hearing to most men, "yes."

"Yes, what?" He did not know what he wanted more, for you to anwser correctly or incorrectly so he could strike you again. Feeling you tremble beneath him, it was exhilarating. You need to understand how good you have it, need to understand all the leniency he gives you is a courtesy, one he will rescind unless you learn to behave like a proper wife, the wife he deserves.

"Yes husband." Such a good girl, his good little wife. He should be kind, he wants to be kind to you. But making you bleed, making you afraid has awoken some animal instinct in him, unchecked need.

He tilts his head letting his tongue dart out to swipe away the blood building at your lip, letting the metallic taste settle in his mouth. A part of you he is only tasting for the first time, a taste he wants more of. But he pulls back, he needs to control himself at least some what, at least until you beg him to continue.

He crouches before you, his hands against your knees, face tilted up towards yours. "My love, I know where you were." You shake your head, "I was walking, I just needed to breathe, needed to be away from the house for some time. I-" You let out a choked sob, fighting back your tears, he wants to comfort you, he hates when you cry, "I just wanted some time alone, sometime to feel like my own person. Not just Ominis Gaunt's wife."

His wife, his wife, his wife. Those words made his cock twitch, not the time. He stood and struck you again, this time you cried out, this time you brought your hands up to shield your face from another blow. His hand snaked into your hair, wrapping the loose strands in a fist, yanking your head back painfully.

"Speak the truth woman, unless you wish for me to forcefully extract the information." He was a master at such tactics, an empty threat when it came to you. He would never harm you in such a way, but you needed to believe he would.

"Ominis." Tears streamed down your face as you pleaded, but the way you said his name didn't have the intended affect on him. "Truth." Was his only response.

"I was with..." A hiccup, a sob, "Sebastian." The truth. Ominis released his harsh hold on you. Taking a seat next to you, pulling you into his chest, gentle hands stroking your head, rubbing your back as you continue to cry. "There, there my love. All I needed was the truth, if you had only been truthful to begin with." That only made you sob harder, but you did not pull away, instead burying your face deeper, holding his shirt tightly in balled fists.

When you finally calmed down, the only remnants of your break down being dried tear streaks and the occasional hiccup, Ominis held your face in his hands running a thumb over your busted lip softly. "I did not mean to hit you so hard, my love. I apologize."

"I-I can forgive you husband. Can you forgive me?" Did you mean it? Do you regret the night you spent with that fugitive? It doesn't matter, as long as you're in his arms, his wife, his love. "Tell me why you did it? Why you are not happy with me?" You face snaps to his, shocked at his words.

You stutter, unable to form a reply. "Yes, I know, I've always known. I just," He paused, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, "hoped you would learn to eventually." A shiver runs down your spine.

What made you do it, he isn't sure, but you lean in, closing the distance, locking your lips in a frenzied kiss, hands coming up to bury in his sleek blonde hair. Guilt? Best just to enjoy the moment. He kissing you back just as hurriedly, hands tearing your clothes off in a manor of disregard he has never shown before. Slow and loving has always been his way .

In a matter of moments both of you are naked, your kiss a mess of teeth and tongues, hands gripping hair and nails raking across bare skin.

His teeth bury into your neck, sucking and biting an angry red mark into your skin. You moan in response, using his shoulders to steady yourself, nailing digging into his pale flesh. "You're mine, my wife." His mouth is back on yours before you can respond.

This feeling is new for you, this way that Ominis is treating you. But you can't help the spark you feel, the tingles making their way through your body. You rub your thighs together to ease some of the friction, to feel some sort of sensation where you need it most. Where you need him, your husband, Ominis.

He slowed down, feeling you shift around, kissing soft chaste kisses, his normal kisses, into your skin. "Are you feeling needy, my love? Tell me what you wish." You always come first, "Your mouth, fuck, please Ominis."

Normally he would, as soon as the words "your mouth" left your lips he'd be down on his knees lapping away at your juices, swirling his tongue around your clit just the way he knows you like, the way that makes you come undone and shake beneath him. This is not a normal day.

He forces you down on your knees, your face aligned almost perfectly with his waiting leaking cock. "Ominis?" You're confused. He looking down, looking into your soul again, it's sends a shiver down your spine. But it's different this time not kind, not loving, but angry, hungry, a beast in a man's skin.

"I always give you what you want, I do my best to make you happy, I fuck you the way you want to be fucked. And still you have the gall to shut your eyes and imagine Sebastian while it's my cock you come undone on." His hand is in your hair, firm but not painful, "No more love, you're going to start being a good wife to me. You're going to listen and you're going to learn."

For the first time you want to, you stare up at Ominis' face, taking in every minute detail, the way his hair clings to his damp skin, mapping out the moles the scatter across his body, the ridged muscles he gained from years in the field as well as the scars he's got in battles, you've never cared to notice all this before. But right now I this moment, you can't deny, he's beautiful.

"Lesson one," He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your waiting lips, "use that pretty mouth of your for something other that talking back to me."

"How do you know my mouth is pretty when you can't even see it?" He sneers at you, holding your hair a little tighter and it sends a wave down to your core. With his other hand he grabs his cock directing it down to press again you're lips.

In the four years you've been married to him, you've never done this. Sex has never been about his pleasure, only yours. Time and time again he had delved between you legs until you came apart on his tongue, yet he never asks for anything in return. You're not quite sure what to do, not sure you want to, not sure you could make him feel good if you did.

He taps your lips once more, "Open." His voice is gruff, he looks like he's barely restraining himself. You open hesitantly, but he's pushing his way in before your ready. You moan around him in protest, hands shooting up to push against his thighs, to no avail.

He's using his grip on your hair to make you bob around him, your tongue wrapping around the underside of his cock almost instinctionally. His head in thrown back, his chest rising and falling in rapid pants. "Fuck, pretty girl, I always knew your mouth would feel like heaven." He's jutting into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, making tears well in your eyes as you gag around him.

He keeps at this, holding you in place until he find his release. He lets go of your hair, moving both his hands to hold your face in place as he fucks the last few thrusts roughly into your throat. Your nails claw into his thighs at the assault. He doesn't pull all the way out, forcing you to swallow his load, the salty flavor settling, not nearly as bad as you would have imagined... almost pleasant.

He pulls you up, peppering kisses on your face. "You did so good, my sweet girl, my lovely wife." You don't know what to say but you feel an odd sense of pride, having made him feel so good, having made him come undone as he has you so many times before.

"Do you want me to touch you?" He's nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin. You hum in response, "Please husband." You can feel him smile against you, one hand grips your hips and the other trails up and down your spine.

"Good start, my love. But I know you can beg a little better than that." He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Do you remember how you begged me not to out Sebastian, you almost got down on your knees, you were on the verge of tears, begging me, it was so pretty, you were so pretty. I used to touch myself every night to the way you sounded that day." He chuckles, "Ominis, Ominis, please, I'm begging you Ominis, please. Fuck I can never forget how you sounded." He groans.

"Be a good girl and do it again. Beg me to touch you." Your face flushes, a mixture of anger at him for bringing up that situation, embarrassment at his mockery, plus an overall heat radiating through your body at his confession and demand.

You don't give in at first, you need not be at two men's mercy, allowing two men to abuse your body in such a way. But Ominis' hand shoots out, wrapping around your throat, your breath catches, unable to successfully suck in another. "P-lease." The word is rough and broken. "Atta girl." His grip loosens and you suck in a greedy breath but he doesn't let go all the way, "Go on, love, beg."

"Please husband." Your tone is soft, low, testing the waters. Ominis says nothing. "Please, Ominis..." You debate, will you really lower yourself to this, begging your own husband to have sex with you? But he struck you, forced his cock down your throat without permission and you still stand here, aching to feel his long slender finger burry themselves inside you. You need it and you will grovel to get it.

"Please touch me, please husband, I'm burning up, I feel as though I will combust if you do not touch me soon. I need to feel you inside me, please Ominis." He moans, actually moans at your words alone and without missing a beat his hand is between your legs.

"Fuck." He groans, leaning in to nip at your neck, "You're so wet, pretty girl." He run a finger between your lips, gathering the fuilds with his fingers, bringing it back up to circle your clit. You buck at the contract, electricity coursing through your veins as his slender fingers circle delicately, the pace and pressure teasing.

"Is this what you want, wife?" You grab his hand, trying to force him to put more pressure, how you like it, how he knows you like it, what will make you come undone in a matter of minutes. But he only tsks at you catching your hand with his free one, pulling it away as he continues his teasing ministrations.

"Yes, husband, yes, please" You whine, moving to grip his shoulders for balance. At your surrender, Ominis moves his free hand back to your hips, holding you in place.

"Did you beg Sebastian like this?" He doesn't stop touching you, "Did he make you this wet?" The teasing is becoming too much, you really do feel like you'll combust, "Does he know how to touch you just the way you like?" His fingers adds more pressure, pace quicking and in mere moments you're putty in his arms. Body tensing and convulsing against him as his strength only is the only thing to keep you upright.

His free arm wraps protectively around your waist, his other collects your juices, giving one final swipe over your clit that makes you jump in hypersensitivity. He brings the his wet fingers to your mouth, forcing them in with little resistance. "Do you taste that, pretty girl?" You hum around him.

"I did that to you. Not Sebastian. Me, your husband. This," his arm slides from your waist down to your bottom, grabbing the flesh roughly, "is mine. You are mine." He pulls his fingers free of your mouth with a pop, a thin string of saliva still connecting you two.

Before you can prepare yourself, Ominis' hand is back between your legs, three fingers buried deep inside you, curling at that spongy spot that makes you jump, that spot he always knows how to hit.

"This." Another curl of his slender fingers, "is mine. Only I get to touch this, taste it. Do you understand, wife?" That sensations is building in the pit of your stomach for a second time, it's too much you think, you always stop after the first one, he never pushes you further. You try to shove at his chest, he doesn't budge, but it's more so that your arms are too weak to actually push.

"Who do you belong to, my love?" You're so close, you can feel your resolve snapping like an old rope, string by tedious string. He stopped when you don't respond and you cry out in protest, trying to rock your hips against his still fingers. "Who do you belong to?"

"You, Ominis, I belong to you, my husband, my beloved. Fuck, please, I'm so close, please Om" His pace is punishing and in all of three strokes you feel the coil snap, see white behind your. You hold onto Ominis, trying to ground yourself to this reality as his fingers continue, drawing out your orgasm.

You couldn't stand if you tried, couldn't move a single muscle. But Ominis isn't done with you yet, no, his plan is to break you. You are his, only his, today is the day you finally get that lesson through your thick skull. He picks you up, carrying you in his arms to your shared bed.

He lays you down and you give an appreciative moan, your bed is so soft, familiar and welcoming. It smells like him you realize in your haze, you've never stopped to notice how his scent clings to everything in this house. How his scent gives you a feeling of safety, of home.

Ominis lines himself up with your entrance while you aren't paying attention, half gone nuzzling your face into the comforter. You moan at the intrusion, a mix of pain and pleasure and total oversimulation. You screw your eyes shut, trying to adjust to him inside you.

"Over my dead fucking body." Ominis grabs your face, forcing you to look at him. "Keep your eyes open, I want you to watch me, look at my face as I fuck you. Remember who's cock it is that's inside you." You nod, or you think you did, your body is so heavy, so far out of your control. All that exists is the overwhelming pleasure and Ominis face.

Ominis, you watch as his jaw clenchs, his head falling into your chest before picking back up just so you can see him, his brows scrunch together in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut. His hold on your waist is brusing as his hips jut against yours. Once again your struck by how beautiful he his, how consumed he is by you. You feel that pride again. You make him feel like that, why has it taken you so long to see it.

You reach a hand up, just as his trusts become erratic, your own body falling in sync with his, you pulls his face down just just enough to let your lips meet his in a ghost of a kiss. You finish for the third time this morning just as you feel him shoot his load inside you, he pulls you up holding you tighter against him, burying his face in your chest as he rides out his orgasm.

You rest your head on top of his, running a near limp hand softly through his blonde hair. "I-" the word catches in your throat, "I love you, Ominis."

He pulls away at that, bringing you into a gentle kiss. "I knew you would. I knew it. That's why I had to get rid of Sebastian. My wife, my love, you're mine."

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy imagine #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt smut #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #˗ˏˋ꒰ 𖹭 my work 𖹭 ꒱ˎˊ˗

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hart269 · 24 days

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Slithering Hearts

Chapter 3

Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem!reader

Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother.

Notes : Bonding over sibling drama, dramaa

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

The hat was lifted off from your head. Light hit your eyes and for a moment the whole world seemed to stop, the first thing you glanced at was James, who looked as if he's seen a troll, his eyes met yours and then he looked away, you knew about his hatred towards "the slimy snakes" and you knew it was gonna get bad.

The slytherin table erupted in loud cheers as you walked there, you sat at an empty seat, the guy beside you cheered,

"A potter in Slytherin, that's a first, Evan Rosier nice to meet you"

You nodded saying your name, Regulus was sitting beside Evan and someone called Barty, the girl sitting beside you was Amelia Bones who gave you a sweet smile as you introduced yourself, you two were engaged in conversation, but you kept glancing at James who determinedly avoided your gaze, Amelia noticed, "That's your brother right"

"Yes, he is" You replied dejectedly.

"Don't worry, I'm sure he'll come around" Amelia clappped on your back.

"I hope so" You did hope so, although you knew how stubborn he can be.

The Slythein common room was grand and cold at the same time, you didn't notice much, too tired to pay attention, giving a goodbye nod to Regulus, you all shuffled towards your room. The rooms were quite warm, despite the walls and floors being made of stone and the windows being half submerged in the lake. A warming spell maybe.

You were excited to find one of your roommates to be Amelia who you deemed to be sweet and just, there was Merula, and there was Ismelda, whom you met on the boat.

"Y/N right, Merlin, I can't beleive you just jumped into the lake"

"Trust me, I didn't either" you groaned into your hands.

It was only due to always swimming at lake near your house, that you had the courage to jump into black lake. You sighed as you plopped down on your bed, tiredness seeping into your bones, so much trouble on the first day only, you guessed it really was a Potter thing.

The next morning inbetween classes, you tried your best to talk to James, however he was ignoring you as if you were a ghost, heck people pay more attention to ghosts,

"James, why won't you talk to me" you snapped, stomping on the ground, like a petulant child.

"I don't associate with the slimy snake house" James sneered turning to walk away. Needlessly to say, you went after him,

"For Merlin's sake, it's not like I'm in a cult, I didn''t choose to get sorted there?"

James turned back to glare, "I would have preffered to have you in a cult, rather than in Slytherin"

You glared back, "What if the cult would have consisted of Slytherins?"

James huffed, "It's barely been a day and you're already defending them" James walked away to his friends, ignoring your calls. Remus and Peter turned to look at you in what you deemed to be a bit of compassion. Sirius patted James's back, and you had to rush to your next class cause the bell rang.

The last class was droning on while you sat there, staring at your textbook in a disspirited manner. You almost jumped as you heard someone clear their throat behind you, glancing behind to see Regulus smiling sheepishly,

"Sorry, I was asking, shall we leave, everyone's gone" he said pointing at the empty classroom. You gave a docile smile, picking up your stuff, and going with him.

Regulus had known your futile attempts of talking to your brother, so he tried to alleviate you from your dire state,

"At least your situation is better than mine, Sirius wouldn't even look at me"

"But doesn't like almost your whole family was in Slytherin, it mean it was easy to assume you could be too?"

"He hoped I would be different like him and now that I'm not, he associates me with the rest of the family" He sighed. And here you were mulling, thinking only you had the short end of the stick.

You hummed, entangling his arm in yours, suddenly beaming up at him "Well, it's us two against them two"

Regulus chuckled, "Don't worry about it, we'll be fine, we fight, but then we settle, we always do". Although he smiled, his voice was a bit strained. You didn't say anything, tightening your hold on his arm, you tried to divert his attention,

"You know what, I have a plan for James, do you wanna know what I'm gonna do?"

Sirius chucked a ball at James who lazily caught it with ease, "What are you thinking mate?"

James sighed, "Do you think Lily likes me?" enticing a loud groan from Sirius.

As Sirius was about to respond, Remus saw something coming at the window, "Hey Potter, isn't that your owl?"

The owl came closer, and in its claws was a perfectly neat red letter. Peter shot from his chair, already closing his ears. James gulped, "We sure that's for me?"

"Better open it now, before it gets worse" Remus warned slowly moving away along with Sirius. James looked at them with an anguished look, accepting his dire fate,

"JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER, HOW DARE YOU TREAT YOUR LITTLE SISTER LIKE THAT, A PERSON IS NOT TREATED ON THE BASIS OF THEIR HOUSE, ESPECIALLY YOUR OWN SIBLING, I EXPECT BETTER FROM MY OLDER CHILD, NOW GO APOLOGIZE TO HER OR ELSE I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU ONCE YOU COME HOME, also don't forget to eat and take care of yourself, mama loves you.

Also Sirius dear, I've send some cookies for you, I hope you enjoy them"

Taglist : @shycreationdreamland @mp-littlebit

#regulus black #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus black series #regulus black x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet #marauders era #marauders #regulus black x female reader #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew

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fortheloveof-sebastian · 11 months

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Sebby

Pairings: Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader

Summary: Anne accidentally lets slip one of Sebastian’s childhood nicknames.

Warnings: fluff, some teasing, talk about bullying, suggestive dialogue near the end

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: This idea first popped in my head because I may or may not have named a stray cat who hangs around my house Sebastian. I called him “Sebby” one day and then this idea grew legs and decided to run away from me much like the feline namesake of this oneshot. (I love stray cats more than they love me, apparently)

Typically, only very young wizards play Gobstones. This, you understood after overhearing several of your classmates mock Zenobia for her obsession; you'd only played the game once, but never thought about it as childish. You weren't proud of it, but the opinions of your classmates had swayed you into dismissing the game altogether.

That is, until you discovered that Anne loved gobstones and since you visited her in Feldcroft with Ominis and Sebastian, you were roped into playing as well. You didn't mind, actually. It allowed you a small peek into Sebastian's life before you entered it, and you secretly adored the mock squabbles between Ominis and Sebastian as they argued over who won or not. Anne seemed happiest while playing, too, so you indulged in a weekly, hour round with friends.

A putrid smell infiltrated the space, caused by one of the Gobstones bouncing out of the circle. Ominis coughs and sputters, waving away the smoke. You, Sebastian, and Anne all laugh.

"Warn me next time," Ominis chokes out.

Sebastian grins, tilting his head like a puppy who chewed your favorite slipper and knows exactly what they did. "Where's the fun in that?"

“Go on, it’s your turn,” Anne prompts.

At times, you find it hard to believe that her and Sebastian are twins. But then one will do something that will remind you so violently of the other (in this case, Anne’s impatience) that sometimes it makes your chest ache — how terrible it must be to have someone so deeply entwined in your soul plagued with an irreversible illness.

The game ends, rather unceremoniously, as Sebastian triumphs over the other players, and the Gobstones are tucked neatly away into a velvet pouch that Anne uses to store them in. Sebastian grabs them from her, to which she casually supplies, “Thanks Sebby.”

You and Ominis both freeze.

Sebastian freezes too, but for an entirely different reason. A dark blush colors his cheeks.

“S-Sebby?” Ominis repeats.

His voice quivers as he struggles to suppress his laughter. It’s only this that alerts Anne that anything is wrong, as she didn’t notice her slip of tongue, and had been absently counting the Gobstones. Her head snaps up, and she locks eyes with Sebastian.

His gaze turns from that of a startled puffleskein to undeniably murderous.

“Oops,” Anne says.

“Oh, Merlin’s —” Sebastian starts, but the rest of his words are drowned out in the waves of uproarious laughter from you and Ominis.

“Sebby!” You cry, your face splitting into a grin.

“Thank you, Sebby!” Ominis joins in.

“Oh, you’re so welcome, Sebby.”

“Sebby, you’re too kind.”

You and Ominis relentlessly volley back and forth, completely ignoring the look of utter devastation from the Slytherin. His protests quickly die out. Anne tries to talk over you, inventing excuse after lame excuse — “It was a mistake! I don’t call him that!” — but neither of the Sallow siblings are a match for you and Ominis, who are quite like a dog with a bone.

“I have no qualms disowning you both,” Sebastian declares once your laughter begins to subside. It’s almost certain that you would’ve continued but your cheeks hurt from smiling, and your stomach was starting to hurt.

Ominis swipes at an imaginary tear. “Oh, Sebby, we know you wouldn’t dare.”

This earns a snicker from you. “Yeah, Sebby.”

“I detest you,” Sebastian says, this time to Anne.

His sister regards him sheepishly. The hint of a smile flickers on her mouth. “Sorry.” Anne pauses. With an insertion of tremendous comedic timing, she adds, “Sebby.”

This time, the three of you elapse into another fit of laughter. Ominis lays on the ground, clutching his stomach, while Anne giggles behind her hand. Sebastian’s features screw up in anger. It’s only when he storms out the door, throwing it shut behind him, that you feel an inkling of guilt.

“Should we go after him?” You ask.

Ominis, still chuckling, waves a hand. Anne has pulled his head into her lap, where they sit reclined against the sofa. “Oh, he’ll mope about and lick his wounds but he’ll be back.”

You stand up and brush off your knees. Ominis tries to tell you that Sebastian will be fine, but you find yourself propelled out the door and into the night. The moon washes over Feldcroft. It takes a moment for your vision to adjust but you spot Sebastian just in time, before he rounds a row of hedges and disappears.

You trot after him. It wasn’t a secret that Sebastian had a nasty temper, and you wanted to give him enough time to simmer. You follow the path to the row of hedges — at first, you think that he’s just outright vanished. The familair crown of artfully messy hair, the slope of his broad shoulders, are nowhere to be found. But then your notice a movement beneath the willow tree, it’s branches blowing lazily in the breeze, and realize that he’s sought shelter beneath it.

Making no effort to disguise your footsteps in the case that he needed to collect himself — you were always horrendously concerned about others — you approach the willow tree and use one arm to sweep back the long branches.

Sebastian leans against the trunk, one foot propped up. His arms are crossed.

You step forward hesitantly.

“What? Done having a jolly good laugh at my expense?” Sebastian asks, tone bitter. “Don’t let me stop you.”

You cringe slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, go ahead. You were going off brilliantly before,” he all but snarls.

The sharpness in his tone could peel flesh from the bone. Your hands form into fists at your side. “It was all in good fun,” you tell him. You had come out here to apologize, not to be berated.

“Really? I didn’t find it all that funny.”

“What’s wrong with you? It’s not like you haven’t poked fun at us before,” you remind him.

Even in the darkness, you can see his eyes narrow. Sebastian was an excellent duelist, and he tended to treat each verbal altercation with the same degree of savagery, no matter his perceived opponent. It’s perhaps why he ended up in detention more times than not.

“You wouldn’t get it,” he fires back. “You just don’t know when to stop.”

Your molars grit together. “It was a joke.”

“Hmph,” he says. He actually says it: hmph. You thought it was a word only made up by authors, but apparently it could very well be said.

You try for a different approach, intentionally softening your voice. “Please come back. I’ll make them promise they won’t bring it up again.”

“No.”

“Sebastian —”

“You don’t know what it’s like.” His voice, barely lifting above a whisper, nearly gets lost in the rustle of the willow branches. In fact, you’re not even certain that he said anything at all, but you stay quiet nonetheless. You’re grateful for this decision, as it evidently prompts him to continue. “You’re so great at everything you do. And everyone adores you.” His icy composure cracks slightly. “I mean obviously but…it’s never been like that for me.”

You frown. “I don’t believe you. You’re infuriatingly charming and quick to learn.”

“Thank you,” he smugly replies. His shoulders heave as he sighs, and then he wilts before you like a flower deprived of the sun. “Anne used to call me Sebby a lot, back in primary school. She was too young to understand that it only gave the schoolyard bullies more fuel.”

“Oh.” It sounds silly leaving your lips, but you find that it’s the only thing you can think to say. “I didn’t know.”

Sebastian avoids your gaze but shrugs. “You couldn’t have. Anyway, it just reminds me of what they would say. How they would mock Anne and I, and our family — how we were poor, our clothes, the likes.”

A frisson takes shape in your chest, threatening to crack open. “That’s awful.”

“I shouldn’t have let it consume me so.”

Sebastian gestures for you, and your feet carry you closer. It’s frightening, sometimes, how unquestionably you listen to him.

But you don’t care.

He draws his arm around you and pulls you into his side, your head fitting into the curve of his shoulder like a puzzle piece snapping into place. His lips are warm on your skin in contrast to the night air, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Sebastian liked to apologize just as much as he liked to lose a duel.

“No, I’m sorry,” you say. “We should’ve stopped when we noticed you were uncomfortable.”

“Eh, I was being a proper twat.” Sebastian’s mouth curves into a grin. “I suppose I deserve a ruthless teasing after a reaction like that.”

You smack him. His stomach is taunt, muscled beneath your hand, reminding you traitorously of how he looked beneath his school attire. Mercifully, it was dark, and Sebastian was unable to see your blush from this angle.

“No you don’t.” You hook your hand in his, your fingers lacing together. “Sebby.”

He exhales sharply, but you can sense that he’s smiling. “Blimey that’s going to take some getting used to.” Sebastian gazes at you, at your entwined hands. “Although I suppose there’s no way I can convince you and Ominis to forget it.”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You laugh. “Ominis has an aggravatingly permanent memory. Especially when it comes to bugging you.”

Sebastian laughs too. “Fair enough.”

You lapse into silence. As your conversation subsides, the sounds of the night sharpen: the rustle of the leaves in the wind, crickets, somewhere in the distance a mother calling out for her child. Sebastian is warm besides you. Familiar and reliable and lovely. You’re overly aware of his breathing, the way his chest rises.

In fact, you’re annoyingly aware of everything about Sebastian.

“Should we go back, Sebby?” You ask. If you had a choice, you would’ve stayed beneath the willow tree all night. But fatigue had begun to settle in your bones, and you would much rather prefer to be nestled up next to Sebastian in bed.

Sebastian surprises you, and you cry out — like a dance, he spins you, using the momentum to pin your entwined hand over your head and your body under his. Heat rushes between your legs.

“Depends,” he mumbles in your ear. His lips graze over your earlobe, the sensitive skin of your neck beneath.

All clarity deserts you in moments such as these, when you would appreciate it most.

“On what?” You stammer back.

His answer causes your stomach to dip, the way it does when you drop too quickly from your broom.

“On whether or not you’re going to say my name…my real name…when you scream out for me tonight.”

#fanfic #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #harry potter #fluff #sebastian sallow x reader #writers #writers on tumblr

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gayandfairycore · 2 months

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-‘๑’- Merlin master list

A/n: Here is my masterlist purely filled with my Merlin fanfics majority has been written now, quite literally, years ago my writing has improved significantly. To those who sent me requests for Merlin I love and appreciate you all!

[* this indicates smut]

Merlin 🧙‍♂️

First time *

Moment alone *

Destruction and creation part one part 2

Morgana 🕯️

Destruction and creation part 1 part 2

Jealousy *

Gwaine 🗡️

Just hold me

Arthur 🛡️

There’s nothing here…

Gwen 🪻

There’s nothing here…

#bbc merlin x reader #bbc merlin x sibling reader #bbc merlin imagine #bbc merlin smut #bbc morgana #bbc merlin #bbc Merlin x fem reader #gwaine x fem reader #gwaine #arthur pendragon #merlin #morgana x merlin sibling reader #mommy morgana #morgana x reader smut #morgana x reader #morgana x fem reader #bbc morgana x reader #katie mcgrath #colin morgan

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wavetorhia · 8 months

Text

homesick

james potter x sirius' sibling!reader

summary: in which you run away from home after you've had enough and find refuge in james potter.

1.3k. hurt/comfort. angst. warning: minor implications of abuse.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

it had all happened so fast.

there was yelling, screaming, and a faint crashing of glass. spiteful words filled with hatred, dripping off the tongue of the woman you once called "mother." tears dripping down your face, blurring the face of your mother in front of you.

standing in the dining room that seemed to feel bigger and isolating, your figure shrinking and shaking as glass shards crumble next to you.

"YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO THIS FAMILY! JUST LIKE YOUR GOOD FOR NOTHING BROTHER!"

hearing sirius' name only caused more heartache as you realize that there was no one to defend you now. he had run away from home. no note. no warning. you and regulus were left to fend for yourselves in this place you called "home."

"don't speak ill of my brother that way." your voice was weak and shaky, only so much as coming out as a mumble. this response however caused your mother to see red - pure rage erupting more than before.

before you knew it, the enraged woman stood in front of you, her hand raised and a stinging pain on your left cheek could be felt. the sound echoed and bounced off of the dark walls of the black residence, even merlin could have heard it from his grave.

in a loud whisper, through gritted teeth she spoke. "get the hell out of my sight."

without another word you turned around and swiftly left the room, tears continuing to fall as you ran up the stairs to your bedroom. you spotted your beloved younger brother, regulus, peaking over the hallway - having heard everything that happened. you paid him no mind, however, as you made your way to your room (also hearing him following behind you).

as you both entered your room, regulus shut the door behind him as you collapsed onto the floor. all of the emotions, pain, hurt, and suffering finally caught up to you. you felt your brother pull you into his arms, trying to provide any comfort that he could possibly give to you. muffled sobs could be heard and his shirt dampened with your overflowing tears that seemed never ending.

it felt as if hours had passed before you could regain your breath. you let yourself out of regulus' grasp, bodies still near each other, and remained on the floor together, a deafening silence engulfing the both of you as the both of you processed what happened.

"...this isn't the first time mother has done this to you."

"i know."

"are you going to continue to let her treat you like this? how much more of this can you take?"

you were left unable to answer. regulus was right, this wasn't the first time she has unleashed her anger onto you. but today was far worse than before. you continued to stay quiet, your eyes trying to avoid regulus' as he stared at you waiting for your answer.

finally you spoke. "i can take her hits and jabs at me. but if she does the same to you i don't think i could take it."

regulus eyebrows knitted at your answer, both sadness and frustration mixed in his dark eyes.

"mother wouldn't do such a thing to me. but if you continue to stay here...she'll kill you."

at this you looked up at him, looking at his now teary eyes caused your vision to blur. a new wave of tears engulfed you both, reaching out and embracing each other at the truth behind his words. together you knew what you had to do, and the thought was heartbreaking. nonetheless, you both knew it was the only choice you had.

for the next hour, the two of you grabbed a large duffel bag and began to pack some of your things. items that were essential and valuable to you. it had soon reached three in the morning when you finally gathered all your things, exhaustion had begun to take over you and your dear brother.

looping your bag over your shoulder you both quietly made your way to the fireplace. regulus hurriedly found the floo powder and made his way back to you. taking your place inside, bag in hand, you grabbed a handful of the powder and looked up at your brother.

"be safe reg."

"you too."

a small sad smile stretched on both of your faces as you looked at each other. a bittersweet goodbye, not knowing when you would be able to see each other again.

as you said the words, "the potter residence" you could feel and see your surroundings begin to change. taking one last glance at your beloved brother, noticing his mouth wording a sentence you knew all too well, you had now found yourself in a dimly lit living room.

it was far different from your own. it was warm and cozy, a feeling of safety brushed over you just by stepping into the lovely home. trying to be as quiet as possible you made your to the couch, not wanting to wake up the residence of the home you (to put it lightly) intruded in.

sitting on the couch you finally allowed yourself to take a breath. you had finally taken the chance to realize what you had done, abandoning the life that you had been living.

you were finally free.

"(reader)? what are you doing here love?"

however, as you were preoccupied with your own thoughts, you failed to notice the figure making its way from the hallway. recognizing the voice, you turned your head to see james potter looking at you with confusion and worry. the wand was occupying his right hand lowered at the sight of you and not an intruder, and he made his way over to you.

"im sorry for coming out of the blue." you weakly smiled in embarrassment, looking down at your hands. seeing james take a seat next to you, your hands now being held by his, a small comforting squeeze causing you to look up at him.

"there's nothing to apologize for love, you're always welcome. but did something happen?"

at his question you began to remember the fight, the screaming, the crying, and even regulus. not saying a word your eyes began to water, silently begging for them not to fall but your body denied that request. james noticed the tears that fell and pulled you into his arms. quickly returning his embrace, you both stayed in that position for what felt like forever, more tears soaking his shirt.

after a while you both pulled away, james placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb softly grazing it. no words had to be said in order for him to understand your situation. it was one he had dealt with before not too long ago either.

as he inspected your face, his eyes landed upon the bruise that had formed on your cheek. his eyebrows furrowed, his other hand reaching over to get a better look at it.

"it's okay. it doesn't hurt anymore."

you tried to reassure him that the pain was gone. however his face never wavered as he looked at the red and purple splotch.

"im sorry that you had to go through that."

"you don't have to apologize for something you didn't do."

"you deserve an apology anyway, even if it isn't from the person you want it to be from."

at those words you weakly smiled at him, a silent 'thank you' coming from your lips as you reached out to hug him again. the warmth of his body softened the tension that your body was unknowingly holding.

a gentle kiss was placed on the top of your head making you squeeze him tighter, no words being able to express the thankfulness you felt to have him here.

before you knew it, you had fallen asleep in his arms. the both of you laying on the couch as the sun greeted the moon and peaked through the windows. no more words had to be said or spoken. no need for tears. for anger. for fear.

all you needed to know, and feel, was that with him-

-you were home.

•°. *࿐•°. *࿐

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fic #marauders x reader #james potter x you #angst prompt #one shot #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #the marauders era #fluff #angst to fluff #rhia's collection ✧.*

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ellieclaireblack · 2 months

Text

sanctuaire | sanctuary

sanctuary | noun your safe and peaceful haven a comforting place of refuge and rest in a noisy, chaotic world

{brother's best friend | fem!reader x james potter} ⪼ warnings: mentions of abuse, eating disorder, mentions of suicide ⪼ word count: 2k

part four: troubles playlist

story: sanctuaire | sanctuary

“y/n” My mother spoke to me. I had to suppress a shudder trying to rock my body. Her stone cold voice made the hair on my skin stand up. My poster got a little straighter, though that was hardly possible anymore.

Regulus was standing beside me, we were home and Maman looked as displeased and frightening as always.

“Yes, Maman.” I answered her. Putting on my best blood supremacist voice. Careful to not smile or frown. Neither were accepted by her. As a Black you had to look flawless and superior to everybody all the time. Making sure everyone knew your status.

“Come and let me inspect you.” My mothers voice tore through the otherwise silent house. My Papa is nowhere to be seen or heard. He was probably in his office. Not wanting to disrupt mother welcoming us. Beside my siblings he was always an alliance in the house. Though a silent one. Only helping when mother didn’t notice. I knew that even though he meant well it was toxic. He was the man of the house, he was Lord Black and still didn’t dare to stand up to his wife. If angered you didn’t want to cross paths with Lady Walburga Black.

Her cold fingers raked my body and I tried hard to stand as still as possible. Letting my mind wander to think about Sirius, about happiness. Anything but my reality. “Regulus Arcturus you are dismissed for now. y/n and I will try on her ballgown.” A pained expression flicked over Reggies face, but was gone by the blink of an eye.

My mother flicked her finger motioning me to follow her and I obliged. My dark green dress lay on my bed and with the help of my personal house elf Amélie I put it on. My whole world shattered when Amélie whispered a quiet “I’m so sorry Mistress”. Before I could even register what was happening my mother stood before me.

“y/n it looks like you’ve gained some weight. What are we going to do about that? You need to fit in your dress.” Before I could react she pulled her wand, shouted ‘Crucio’ and I screamed. Loudly. The name of my brothers. Anything. I was trying to fight the spell but had no chance.

“y/n. y/n. Come on, wake up!”

Suddenly I was even colder than before and my eyes shot open. A pitcher of cold water had been dumped over my body. It was all just a dream. I was in the infirmary and both of my brothers looked at me. The same scared expressions mirroring their faces.

“I’m sorry. Did I bother anyone? Oh Merlin, did anyone besides the two of you hear?” It was then that I noticed James and Remus standing behind Sirius. How embarrassing.

“y/n, you can’t be for fucking real. I thought you were dying and you’re worried that anybody heard you. I haven’t been that scared for a long time.” Sirius raised his voice slightly, I winced remembering our mother shouting at me. He looked at me with a painful expression and took one of my hands in his. “Do you want to talk?” He nearly whispered now. I shook my head but didn’t let go of his hand. Regulus took my other hand and James and Remus looked visibly uncomfortable. Not wanting to disrupt our sibling bonding moment. With a nod and some wandless magic I let some chairs appear and the both of them broke out in a grin sitting down in a split second.

Sirius was sitting on Regulus’ bed and me still in my chair, in the same position I fell asleep in. I only now noticed how my whole body hurts. Sleeping in a chair does that to you.

Suddenly the doors to the infirmary were pushed open and three familiar faces ran inside. Florence, Theo and Adam were sprinting towards me. Relieve filling them as they spotted me. “By Merlin's balls, y/n don’t ever just leave without telling me where you’re going. For a second I thought you jumped off the Astronomy tower, since you left this there.” Florence held up the letter from my mother.

“She wouldn’t die in winter.” Sirius and Regulus said at the same time as I said “I wouldn’t kill myself, it’s winter.” And the three of us broke out in laughter, even though it’s not something regular people would laugh about. We Blacks were a bit strange about sensitive topics. Our friends had puzzled expressions on their faces and looked like we were completely insane.

“You wouldn’t get it, Prongs.” Sirius told James who just opened his mouth, so he closed it again. Reminding me of a fish and sending me in another fit of giggles. When I calmed down I was reminded of the seriousness of the situation.

The doors opened and Madam Pomfrey walked in. I took a deep breath and put on my ‘Black face’ again. A face of coldness and superiority. I loved Poppy Pomfrey, but I wouldn’t let a teacher see me vulnerable. Madam Pomfrey was shocked to see so many students in the infirmary at the crack of dawn.

“Everybody who isn’t the young Mister Black out now!” She ordered. I shot Reggie a small smile, squeezed his hand and all of us left the infirmary. While Poppy Pomfrey was the nicest human in the whole wide world, you didn’t want to get on their bad side. Remus stayed back for a second to pass a few words with her, she had a soft spot for him. I knew about Remus’ condition. When Remus was sick after two full moons in a row I had gotten suspicious.

The first few months of first year had been hard on me. I had never spent so much time apart from Sirius and when I wanted to talk to him he was always with stupid James Potter. The first three years at Hogwarts I had resented James with all my heart. But he was hard to hate, after three years he weasled himself into my heart and now I was proud to call him my friend. Still in first year we couldn’t quite get along. That’s why Sirius didn’t talk to me as much anymore. I didn’t like his new best friend and he hated it.

I found myself spending lots of time in the Astronomy Tower. A side effect of that being always aware of the moon cycle. When I noticed Remus getting sicker towards the full moon and looking horrible a few days after. I spent a whole day researching in the library and finally got to the conclusion that he was a werewolf. I didn’t tell anyone of course. While I resented Sirius some days I couldn’t do that to his friend. So on the third full moon I faked an injury so I could spend the night in the infirmary. I heard Remus talking to Madam Pomfrey, heard her fussing over him and when the word wolf fell I knew I was right.

“Hey y/n what’re you thinking about?” Theo bumped his hip into mine and snapped me out of my thoughts. He knew the troubles of growing up with strict pureblood parents, nearly every child of the Sacred 28 knew how hard it was. Some were better than mine, but all Pureblood supremacist parents were a handful to deal with.

“My mother.” I answered with a half lie. I couldn’t tell my Slytherin friends about Remus. Theo and I shared a look of deep understanding. His mother was quite sweet, but his father was bloodcurdling. My Slytherin friends knew that about the relationship I had with my parents. They didn’t know about the torture and abuse. I made sure to hide it from them, since even though I trusted them I wouldn’t want their parents and the whole pureblood world to find out. My mother would explode.

──────────────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──────────────────

The Great Hall was filled with chatter and I plopped down besides Flo. My thoughts on my family. Regulus, who was still in the infirmary. My mother, who cared more about my looks than my health. My father, who never showed up at the right time. Sirius, who was sitting a few tables away, yet seemed unreachable sometimes.

I pushed the food on my plate around and took some bites, but my stomach and mind were at war. I constantly heard my mothers voice inside my head. Do you really want to eat that? And even though she wasn’t here I could feel her sitting next to me constantly, judging my every move.

I glanced over to the Gryffindor table. My brother and his friends were all deep in conversation. James was trying to woo Lily Evans again. Remus and Sirius looked so deep into each other's eyes, it seemed they didn’t notice anybody else. Pete was talking to Mary and Alice and they all had smiles on their faces. Their happiness radiating off and bouncing around the whole Hall.

I ignored the way my heart clenched. I wanted to sit with them, to share laughs, to feel so completely pressureless. But I couldn’t. Ignoring the pointed stares of my friends I got up and made my way to the dorms. Not standing another second of being in the Great Hall.

Back in my room I grabbed my skates and bundled myself up in warm clothes. Since I was a small child I was enamoured with figure skating. Luckily my mother had a good year when she let me start doing the sport. Lots of Purebloods approved of it, so I didn’t need to be ashamed of it. Still to this day I spend lots of my free time skating. Next to reading it’s the only thing that gets my mind to stop overthinking.

The Black Lake froze until mid March every year since scottish winters were bitter cold. I put my skates on, with a flick of my wand music was playing and I drove some circles to warm myself up. Spins and jumps seemed to clear my mind of every problem. And only after an hour I noticed I had gathered a small crowd. It was mostly Slytherin and Hufflepuff first years and when I went and drove to them some broke out in an applaud. I smiled a content smile. And Adelaide Greengrass, younger sister of Lucinda Greengrass, ran over to me.

“Wow Ms Black that was incredible.” I smiled at the name she chose, we had talked lots of times, but sometimes she used to call me Ms Black referring to our Pureblood ways of courtesy. “Hey Addy, thank you. Do you want me to teach you sometime?” I asked her as I removed my skates and could swear they were sparks in my eyes. I took that as a yes.

In the back of the small crowd stood Regulus. I ran over to him and could barely contain myself from wrapping him in a tight hug. Physical affection in public was a big no-go to my mother and most Pureblood families. With the events of the past few days I wouldn’t want to stir any rumours. “Reggie” I breathed out. The relief and joy of seeing him healed washed over me.

“y/n you needn’t worry about me. I’m fine. Did Maman send you a letter too?” He asked as we made our way back to the dormitory. “Yes. She did. It was as unpleasant as one can imagine.” Reg shot me a pained look. He knew about the strict ‘dietary plan’ Mother expected me to follow.

He opened his mouth but I held my hand up, to stop him. “Reg, I know you worry about me. You mustn’t. Please. We’ll survive the next few weeks and after the ball we’ll be fine again. Just make sure to not get too close to Sirius. Narcissa and Bella are watching and I know a handful of other people who would love to report every “wrong” step of us to Maman.”

“I know y/n. Still be careful I can’t risk losing you to her.” He took my hand and I squeezed it with a silent promise. I knew I couldn’t make any promises aloud, they were just going to be broken anyway.

a/n: hey guys i'm sorry it took foreveeever to finish this chapter. it's not a 100% proof-read, but i'm way to tired today to proof-read it. next chapter is already halfway done and i'm hoping to be able to upload it as soon as possible.

lot's of love to wherever you are <3 xoxo ellie

p.s. as always: my inbox is alway open for feeback and requests. more james action next time. i just enjoy writing slow burns. sorryyy :)

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spaceyaceface · 9 months

Text

Absence - Safety Ch 9

Ominis Gaunt x f!Ravenclaw!Reader (Reader is not MC)

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Death threats, emotional abuse

Summary: Y/N L/N had always despised Ominis Gaunt. He was everything she hated about her life. As the only daughter to a wealthy pure-blood family, she knew it was inevitable that she would someday find herself in an arranged marriage.

But why did it have to be him?

Or, a classic arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn.

Also available on AO3

Chapter One | Chapter Eight

Dearest,

Yes, my parents told me the news at dinner, just the same as yours. Seems the thing we’ve both been dreading isn’t so bad after all. In fact, I’m rather looking forward to spending the evening with you—even with such dismal circumstances.

I am glad my siblings won’t be attending. Subjecting you to my parents’ presence is bad enough. I can only hope they will behave themselves, and that your parents will do the same.

Christmas can’t come soon enough.

Your friend,

Ominis Gaunt

She smiled down the letter, having read it initially the night before, but coming to visit it once again the next morning. Never in her life had she looked forward to Christmas—she knew most people did, but usually, it was just another day for her. She never received any gifts until she got to Hogwarts, nor did her family decorate their home. In fact, the only bit of celebration they ever had was the occasional visit of distant family or other pureblood families, and that wasn’t exactly pleasant.

But this year was different.

She knew for certain that she would have at least a moment of joy when her she got to see her friend, a distraction from the awful place she was in. Now, she just had to endure until he arrived.

There was a gentle knock on her door, and her mood improved even more. Diane opened it a crack, peeking in.

“May I come in, dear?”

She leapt to her feet, opening the door and pulling Diane inside. The older woman let out a chuckle upon seeing her wide grin. “It looks like someone got the news?”

“Yes!” she responded as Diane threw open her wardrobe, ruffling through the dresses. “Merlin, what a relief. We were worried when his parents forced him home. Thought something awful was heading his way.”

There was a bit of a twinkle in Diane’s eye when she turned back to her, dress in her arms. “Worried about him now, are we? I never would have thought you capable of it. Not for a Gaunt boy.”

Just as she had done a hundred times growing up, she let Diane help to dress her. She never liked it; it was something she didn’t miss while at Hogwarts, but whenever she tried it herself her parents always seemed to find some imperfection to criticize. So she could at least be grateful it was Diane there with her.

“I’ve already told you, Diane, he’s different. Nothing like his family. I admit I thought very lowly of him until he proved otherwise.”

Diane hummed. There seemed to be a bit of a knowing tone to it that she didn’t like very much. But the woman was speaking again before she could comment on it. “And what of your friend Constance? Gotten her owl yet?”

She was quiet for a moment. “We had a falling out, actually. We… well, I wouldn’t consider us friends anymore.”

As she stood in front of her, straightening some fabric, Diane frowned. “I’m sorry to hear it.”

“It’s alright. It’s for the better, I think.” She went on to tell her the whole story—most of the story, at least, sans the threats from her father. Like she had been for many years, Diane was a wonderful listener, and it was nice to talk about such things to someone.

Soon, her story was finished, and she was dressed. Diane sat next to her on the bed, smiling softly. “I am glad to hear you’ve found new friends, at least. Ominis, and that…”

“Sebastian,” she finished.

“Sebastian, yes. Sound like they treat you well. I wouldn’t want anything different for you, my dear.”

Diane patted her on the shoulder before standing. “I best be off, love. Your parents will be expecting you.”

She sighed, nodding.

The rest of the day passed as any spent in her home did. She had a silent breakfast with her parents, after which her father left for work. Her mother slipped away into the library, curled up reading. She thought it was the only similarity her and her mother shared. She herself went to her room, busying herself with whatever she could.

Time always dragged on in that house. Most of the servants and house elves stayed away and out of sight, just as her father had instructed them to. Diane was the only one who ever tried to do otherwise, but was usually kept busy by other things. There was no one to talk to. Nothing much to do but find idle ways to entertain herself. She felt like an animal in a cage, expected to do nothing but behave and stay quiet.

She was always restless there, wanting to rip off the nice dresses and find somewhere to run. There was nowhere to breathe in that place.

Her solace was the thought of seeing Ominis, and the letters they sent one another. Just as promised, he wrote every day, and she wrote back.

They shared inside jokes and old stories, trying to keep one another out of the bad memories pressing in around them. The memories still came, of course, but at least she could wake up in the dead of night and pull his letters out from under her mattress to help her breathe.

On Christmas Eve, her father denied her request to be excused from the table. She stayed sat without argument.

He stood, the sound of his chair scraping harshly against the ground grating on her ears. “Before you retire, I feel the need to impress upon you the importance of tomorrow’s dinner.”

She stared up at him, keeping her expression neutral. He took it as a sign to continue, starting to pace as he did.

“Our arrangement with them is sound—for the most part. They have agreed to have you should you behave properly upon meeting them. They’ve heard rumors of the company you keep, the way you act when at school. But they’ve decided to forgive it, should you act well tomorrow night.”

They wanted to know if she was a beast that could be tamed. If her rebelliousness could be stomped out of her, if she would submit like an obedient child.

Her father stopped his pacing, standing directly behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders.

“You will act well,” He commanded, voice low. “You will prove to all of us your life has worth, if you would like to keep it.”

Her mother across from her refused to meet her eyes, staring blankly down at her plate. She never hated her more.

Her father leaned down, speaking into her ear. “Do you understand me?” His fingers dug into her, grip unrelenting. She swallowed a sound of pain before it could escape.

“Yes,” she breathed.

He tightened his grip, just for a moment, then let go. “Good. You are dismissed.”

She stood stiffly, and after the door of the dining room closed behind her, she caught herself on the wall. An ill feeling overtook every part of her, making her stomach twist and head ache.

It was difficult, dragging herself up to bed that night and shedding the dress she’d been done up in. Finally, after shaking all the way, she curled up into her bed and sobbed.

An animal in a cage. One they would do anything to tame.

When Diane came in to dress her, she arrived carrying a gown she was sure was made just for tonight. She hated everything but the color. Intricate details of silver framed over the bodice and down the sleeves, gaudish and expensive. It was made in such a way that would make her the picture of desire, framing her every curve and giving her an air of untouchable elegance. It was awful. But the deep, emerald green reminded her of Slytherin robes, something she never thought she would find comforting.

After a long while, she’d written Ominis in the night, telling him briefly what her father said. She would be safe, she promised, as long as they both went along with their parents. It would be ok. The letter she got from Ominis that morning was short, but she held it in her hand, reading over it whenever she felt her heart beat a little too fast.

I do not think it will come to it, but if your father tries anything, I will not hesitate to fight. You won’t be staying there for the rest of break. I will find a way out of it.

Please be safe. I will be there soon.

Ominis

His handwriting was messier in that letter, the paper just a bit crumpled. He’d written it in haste, and that thought alone comforted her.

I will be there soon.

The house was a flurry of servants rushing about tripping over house elves, all of them desperate to clean and straighten every last inch of the place. It was excessive—she saw the entrance hall swept at least four times. She doubted they would have gotten so pressed if the visitors were swapped with the Minister of Magic himself.

The hope she’d once felt about seeing Ominis now mingled with unease. What if she did do something wrong? What if Ominis tried to fight her father? The thought made her heart race. No, she’d do anything to prevent that. She’d play her part perfectly and not take any risks.

Her father’s threats to her wouldn’t have mattered so much if she didn’t care for Ominis so, and that he cared for her in return. Because if she messed up, it was no longer just her who had something to lose. It was a cruel trick of fate. Those soft feelings were being used to twist their arms behind their backs—and her father didn’t even know it.

Her mother came up to her room at some point, speaking in that soft tone to remind her of the proper etiquette and manners she was meant to display. She struggled to remain attentive, her mother’s soft tone nearly lulling her to sleep. It wasn’t as if she was saying anything new, anyways—but it did set the precedent for what was expected of her.

Then her mother saw the time and paled.

“They will be here soon,” she said. “Straighten your hair and then come to the foyer. Quickly.”

Her mother left, and she did as she was told. It suddenly seemed that everything was amiss. Her hair would sit right, no matter how many pins she put in it. And her dress would lie smooth against her. The face she saw in the mirror held an anxious expression, one she knew wouldn’t be welcome. It finally came to a point where she realized there was nothing else she could do. She took a deep breath, heading down the stairs and into the foyer where her father paced.

She stood stiffly beside her mother, waiting in silence. Her heart pounded in her chest. She jumped with a servant threw open the door, announcing the arrival of the Gaunts.

Holding her breath, she followed her parents into the entrance hall, and there he stood. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he stood straighter than she’d ever seen him. She spent a good moment looking at him before turning her eyes to his parents standing on either side of him. She didn’t like what she saw.

His father, with pale skin and dark hair, had the most naturally cruel face she had ever seen. Perhaps it was the slight sneer on his lips, or the way his brows drew together, but just the sight of him made her want to cower. The only similarity he shared with his son was the color of his eyes, a pale blue. But his were not inviting in the slightest. Where Ominis’s eyes were like a frozen lake sparkling in the moonlight, a subtle shine within, Mr. Gaunt’s were pure ice, full of nothing but the coldest indifference.

When she turned to Mrs. Gaunt, she understood where Ominis got his good looks. With high cheekbones and long blonde hair, just the same as son, she looked regal standing there. However, the difference in her expression made the similarities fade into the background. Her full lips were set in what she could only describe as a pout, making her seem immature for the grown woman she was.

The sight of them set her on edge, so she turned her gaze once again on Ominis, just so she could feel like she could breathe. His face was held in a practiced way she knew herself to be doing. His unseeing eyes stared past her, and she was filled with a sudden longing to approach him and hold his arm, just so he knew she was there. Seeing him with so much of his self erased to appease their parents broke her heart, just a little. But at the same time, it was him, and that was enough to put her at ease.

Her silent observations were interrupted by the servant, extending his arm to gesture at their guests. “Mr. Cassius Gaunt, his wife Aurora, and their youngest son Ominis,” he announced. Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt stood stiff, but Ominis gave a practiced bow. Her parents returned the movement, she herself giving a curtsy.

It was quiet while they were all led to the dining hall. She trailed back, just a little, just so she could be a step or two closer to Ominis. Would I recognize her footsteps here, like he did at Hogwarts? Would he still sense her through the unfamiliar floors and the taps of unusual shoes?

They were led to their seats. Her father gave up his chair at the head of the table, and instead, the families sat across from each other, a show of being equals in this house. She was sat opposite of Ominis, and struggled not to stare at him as they were served.

It was Mr. Gaunt who started conversation, a sign of the pecking order at the table. It was dull. Talk of the Ministry, and who was in line to be the next minister, whether or not they were supportive of acts to be passed protecting muggles, subtle flexes indicating who they had influence on. A ridiculous show, she thought, especially as she heard Mr. Gaunt’s claims when she knew he had no money to back him. Her father didn’t know that, though, and apparently neither did anyone in the Ministry.

She kept her focus on her meal in front of her, trying to pay just enough attention to comment if she was called upon.

“It’s a shame they have Mudbloods teaching at the school, don’t you think?” her father said, continuing off of a comment Mr. Gaunt had made about the types they let do more than scrub the floors at the Ministry. “It’s only that Phineas is there that I let her go at all.”

Mrs. Gaunt hummed in agreement. When she spoke, the stark contrast of her own mother’s voice shocked her. Every syllable wavered with emotion, as if she were on the verge of tears at all times. “It is such a worry each time we send our dear Ominis away! What things they might try to teach him—awful sorts. The absurdity of having an entire class dedicated to that filth…”

She thought of her Muggle books and poems hidden away upstairs. Maybe she would stay up all night reading them, just to spite this awful woman.

Mr. Gaunt set down his fork. The sound of it made silence fall across the table. “That is why we keep up with our own studies at home,” he said. A chill went through her. “We see to it that Ominis studies thoroughly. Don’t we, boy?”

It was subtle—the way his jaw clenched and nostrils flared ever so slightly—but she saw it. “Yes, Father,” he answered.

“You see, we are careful about what we let into our home. Into our line.” Mr. Gaunt’s cold eyes landed on her, and she felt like an item in a shop being assessed for its worth. “We wish to keep the integrity of our legacy. We will not have any who we fear might disgrace it.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ominis’s fist clench where it rested on the table. How she wished she could reach out and take it. Instead, she slid her foot forward under the table, letting it bump into his. He tensed for a moment, brows furrowing slightly, but upon realizing who it was, he relaxed. He brought his own foot alongside hers, and even that simple contact let her breathe a little easier.

She heard her father take a deep breath from beside her. “Cassius, old friend, I don’t take the weight of your lineage lightly. You will find her to be a suitable match, I promise you. It would be an honor to let… to let my line end so that yours may flourish.”

Mr. Gaunt gave a slow nod. “I’ve never doubted your resolution to this arrangement.” His eyes turned back to her. “But does she share that resolve, I wonder?”

She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze. Her father spoke. “Of course she does. She understands.”

“I think I’d like to hear it from her.”

Her throat felt dry. Under the table, Ominis’s foot nudged against hers, giving her the strength to open her mouth. “I will keep the integrity of your line. It… it will be an honor to join your family.”

The words made her stomach twist. She had to break her eye contact with him, afraid that his piercing gaze would tear her apart.

He seemed satisfied at her statement, and turned to her father once more, bringing up the Averys’ oldest son and the shame he had brought upon them by marrying a muggle. She let out the breath she was holding as the attention shifted away from her.

The rest of the dinner passed much the same, and as the company rose to move to the parlor, she saw her chance.

Gathering her courage, she turned to her father. “Father, with the permission of Mr. Gaunt, I would love to give Ominis a tour of the grounds,” she said. Her eyes flicked between the two men, their frowns making her heart race. “With a chaperone, of course.”

She saw Diane standing by the door of the kitchen, who gave her a small reassuring nod. Her father looked to Mr. Gaunt, who made no move to disagree. “Have Diane accompany you. Do not be too long.”

She kept herself from smiling as Ominis offered his arm to her, allowing her to lead them to the door, Diane trailing behind them. He walked stiffly, but his warmth sept into her with each step they took away from the dining room. Finally, they pushed open the door outside, the cold winter air hitting them. She let go of his arm, jumping onto him to pull him into an embrace.

He stuttered out her name, still stiff. “Your… your chaperone, we shouldn’t—”

“It’s alright, Ominis, it’s just Diane,” she said, not separating from him.

It took him a moment, but then he understood. “Yes, that’s right. Diane. Your friend. Gods, I’ve been worried sick about you.” He finally relaxed, wrapping his arms around her. He held her close to him, and she closed her eyes as she took it all in.

“I’m ok, I promise.” She pulled away, staring up at him. “Merry Christmas.”

He chuckled. “Merry Christmas.”

She took him by the hand, leading him to where Diane was standing. She had a grin on her face, looking between the two of them. “Diane, this is my friend Ominis.”

Ominis held out his hand, which she took to shake. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I’ve heard good things about you, and I’d like to thank you for watching over her when I cannot.”

Diane’s grin widened. “Of course. I’ve done it for seventeen years, I’ll look after her as long as I’m able. She has told me good things about you as well, my dear.” He smiled softly at that as Diane continued. “In the spirit of the holiday, I’ll give the two of you a gift—I’ll stay here. You go and wander the grounds. Just be back before I freeze to death.”

She smiled, giving her a quick hug. “We won’t be long. Thank you.”

Diane gave her a dismissive wave of the hand. “Get going, lovebirds.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Ominis took her arm before she could get a word out. He had his wand out so that he could direct them through the grounds.

“I’d be wearing your scarf if my mother wouldn’t have burned it the moment she saw it,” he commented.

She chuckled. “In that case, I’m glad you saved it from its untimely demise.”

He smiled. God, she’d missed that smile, even over the few days they’d been parted. “I would have insisted you make a new one, you know.”

“And I would have done it.”

He stopped walking, head tilting to face her more directly. “My siblings are coming to visit tomorrow. After that, I’m heading to Sebastian’s for the remainder of the holidays. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you come with me.”

Her grip on his arm tightened. “That… I hope that works. It would be better if the request came from you or your family rather than me. I might have a fighting chance that way.”

He pulled his arm away from her, coming to stand directly in front of her. His hands reached up, gently resting on her upper arms. “I meant what I said in my letter. I will fight for you. I’m sorry you said what you had to at dinner.”

Her own hands reached in front of her, coming to play with his tie, running over the smooth fabric of it. “It was needed.”

“I wish it wasn’t. I wish all of this…” he trailed off, and she couldn’t stand the defeated expression on his face.

“I know. Me too. But for now, we play along. It keeps us safe.”

“But does it really?” He sighed, shaking his head. “Every time we do something they want, we lose a bit of ourselves. How long until there’s nothing left?”

“Ominis, listen to me.” She held his shoulders tightly. “Someday, we will get out of this. I promise. We’ll find somewhere safe to land, and we’ll do it together. We won’t lose ourselves along the way. I won’t let it happen.”

One of his hands came to hold her wrist in a gentle grasp, his thumb tracing over the cold skin there. “I won’t either.”

A chill went through her as she felt the soft motion of his thumb. She realized suddenly how intimately they stood together. And how she didn’t dare move a muscle.

He seemed hesitant to move, too. But finally he let go of her wrist. “I have something for you.”

Her hands fell from his shoulders. “You have something?”

“I told you I’d get you a gift, didn’t I?” He dug around in his pockets before pulling out a small package. “I brought it in case I got the chance to give it to you. I’m glad I did. Merry Christmas.”

She took the package—a small box—and looked from it to him.

He shifted on his feet. He was… anxious. “Come on, go ahead and open it. It’s not very kind to leave me standing here like a fool.”

She chuckled, opening it. Her eyes widened. Inside, draped delicately on a bit of padding, sat a silver necklace. It was simple—a chain with a charm at the end. Picking it up, she took a closer look to see that it was in the shape of a piano.

“Ominis…”

“I do hope it’s alright,” he said, holding his hands behind him. “I couldn’t see it, obviously, but the shop owner told me it was well made. If it’s not something you’ll like, I could find—”

“It’s perfect, Ominis,” she interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. “It’ll remind me of you.”

He relaxed a bit, and it made her smile. “Good. I’m glad you like it.”

She lifted it out of the box, taking his hand in hers and placing it in it. His brows furrowed at her action.

“I thought you just said—”

“I want some help putting it on, is all.”

His mouth opened, as if to argue, but then he snapped it shut. “Turn around, then.”

She lifted her hair, facing her back to him. One of his hands skimmed over her shoulder, feeling to make sure he knew where she was. Then he brought the necklace up, crossing it in front of her and bringing the ends to the back of her neck. His fingers brushed against the skin there as he did the clasp, and she blamed the chill that ran through her on the cold. He let go of the chain, his hands lingering there for just a moment before pulling away.

Turning around once more, she saw how soft Ominis’s expression had grown. There was a fondness there that she had never seen before. It made something catch in her throat.

“Merry Christmas, Ominis,” she said, voice hardly more than a whisper.

He smiled softly, reaching out to take her hands in his. “Merry Christmas, dearest.”

A/N: Sorry this chapter took me a lot longer, the Big Sads (depression) decided to hit me so I had no motiviation to do anything. But I got over it and wrote this so that's neat! It's not my best, but it's something. I'll have something better for you next time, sorry this was a bit of a filler chapter.

TAGLIST:

@skarathewitch @cherryflavoredcoke @phoenix666stuff @wt-fxck @shameless0shenanigans @fitzs-trained-monkey @mxmia @myrachondria @vee-mage @sarahskywalker-amadala @jijistarfish @margottheviking @agent-tempest @iristhehufflepuff

Tags aren't working for a few of you, so sorry ahhhh

#ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x you #ominis x reader #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt safety

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entitled-fangirl · 1 month

Text

His betrothed. (P4)

Barty Crouch x reader

Summary: The Marauders comfort the reader after the incident with Barty.

Masterlist

Part 1!

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Y/N ran to the Common Room in tears.

Barty was cheating on her?

Her heart was in shambles.

Maybe James was right and she was a fool to believe that the Death Eater could possibly love her enough to marry her.

Her thoughts were paused as she ran into a wall.

Not a wall.

James Potter himself.

Speak of the devil.

She looked up at him at met his eyes.

He immediately sighed in an annoyed manner, "What's wrong?"

She opened her mouth, but only sobs came out.

"Oh, Dove…" He immediately dropped his facade and held her close to him.

Remus rushed down the stairs at the sound of her sobs. "Thank Merlin! There you are."

James glared at Remus.

It's obvious that the fight with James was still ongoing.

She sniffled, "Where's… where's Siri?"

Remus smiled, "He was looking for you. Regulus was as well."

James frowned, "Why? What the hell is going on?"

Sirius entered the Common Room. His hair was awry and he was out of breath but he pleaded, "Oh, Y/N. I… I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

She buried her face in James' chest and sobbed harder.

James was stiff. He had never really had a sister, so comforting the youngest Black sibling was still foreign to him.

Sirius sighed, "'m sorry to you, too, James. I… I shouldn't have been so harsh with you. You were just trying to protect her."

James scoffed. He pulled Y/N's head back just slightly to wipe her tear-stained cheeks with his thumbs, "I accept, Pads, but I still don't know what the hell is going on."

"Right," Sirius realized, "Well… Regulus and Crouch had gotten into a fight this morning and I guess-"

Y/N pulled away from James and quickly walked past the boys to go to her room.

She felt like she already knew enough that she didn't need to hear it be said aloud.

But Remus caught her arm gently. His voice was low as he bent his torso down just slightly to talk to her, "Dove? How can I help?"

She shook her head. "I don't.. there's… there's nothing to do."

He smiles, "How about I come get you in an hour or two for lunch? I can at least make sure you get fed."

Sirius jumps in, "Actually, dear sister, Regulus must speak with you."

She shook her head, "I have nothing to say to him."

He leaned back slightly, "Y/N, listen. It's important."

"Is he going to rub it in my face?"

"Wh…what? You think so little of our brother that he would gloat in his sister's unhappiness?"

She shrugged, "I… I don't know."

He gently took her shoulders, leading her to the Common Room door, "He's waiting for you outside. Just hear him out, alright?"

She sighed, knowing she couldn't fight them.

She loved her brothers more than life itself, but man, could they be pains in the ass.

Sirius planted a loving kiss on the top of her head and gently pushed her out of the room, closing the painting swiftly.

Regulus held a forced smiled to his lips, "Hi, sister."

She pulled her arms around herself, "Reg."

"Alright," he immediately started, "There's an entirely reasonable explanation for everything that happened today. Just… ugh…"

"Regulus, I won't forgive this. There's nothing you can say that would make this better. If Barty loved me, he would show it."

"That's the thing," he sighed. "Barty and I got into a fight this morning-"

"-Yes, that's all anyone will talk about!" She scoffed.

"Andromeda has had a crush on his for a while now. I just… she was trying to flirt with him all day yesterday. I told him this morning that he needs to make sure he doesn't give her the wrong idea. He… he told me I was crazy, and that he only has eyes for you. I believe him, of course, but still…

"Anyway, so later after my morning class, I go back to our dorm. There's a card on Barty's bed. It's from Andromeda."

She finally interrupts him, "I still don't get it."

"Let me finish!" He barked. His face dropped, "I'm sorry. Just let me finish."

She nodded with wide eyes.

"Barty opened the card and Andromeda had bewitched it to blow a love potion. He breathed it in."

Y/N had never felt more foolish in her life.

That look Barty had given her when she caught them should've told her all of this on its own.

He looked so regretful, even though his body was telling him to love Andromeda.

His mind still rebelled to love her.

She pondered this for a while before mentally coming back to Regulus, "Why isn't he here?"

"He's in the Hospital Wing getting treated."

She nodded, "Thank you, Reg."

He smiled, "Least I could do for you. But, please, go get a coat or something before you go see him. It's too cold in the castle for you to not have a jumper."

Y/N smiled, "I will. Bye, Reg."

She opened the Gryffindor painting and disappeared behind it.

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had apparently all made up in the time she was gone.

Or at least she assumed so by the way they were all sprawled out on the large couch of the Common Room.

Remus noticed her first, standing with a smile, "Is everything alright now?"

She smiled and nodded, "Yes, Regulus explained everything."

A seemingly collective sigh broke out from the boys.

Sirius let out a laugh, "If it helps, Regulus said he had a serious talk with Andromeda."

"Regulus did?" She asked.

He nodded.

James stood up hesitantly and walked to her small frame. "Listen, dove. I… I was wrong about what I said. I want to protect you, but that's no excuse to speak to you how I did. Will you forgive me?"

She smiled and hugged him tightly. Her voice was muffled against his chest, "Ah aways fowgive ew, Wrongs."

He laughed and pulled her closer, placing a brotherly kiss on her forehead.

…

The poor boy was already stringing pleads together to make barely understood sentences, "I'm sorry I was a fool and I opened the bloody card. I fought with your brother so much about it and I should have known better. You never deserve this and I don't think anything I do will suffice as an apology so all I can do is hope that you will think of something for me to do to let you forgive me."

She stood at the foot of the hospital cot with a sympathetic gaze, "You mean that?"

Barty smiled, "Oh, love. I swear to you. Please. I can't describe what I felt when you found us in the library."

Y/N nodded. "I… I forgive you."

"No, love." He persisted, "Don't let it go so easily. I'll make it up to you. What can I do?"

She looks up at the ceiling in thought. "A date. A real date. On the Hogsmeade trip?"

He smiled, "That's nothing. Consider it done. What else?"

She smirked, "Carry my books to class this week?"

"Two weeks." He smiled.

She nodded, "Two weeks."

"Alright. What else?"

She shrugged, "I don't know, Barty. Honestly, I forgive you."

He sits up and leans forward, "Let me earn your trust back."

She hesitates, then nods, "Alright."

He swings his legs around and gets out of the cot. He takes a few steps towards her, "Thank you, Y/N."

His hands rubs up and down her arms as his body pulls her closer.

The proximity makes her catch her breath, "f… for what?"

He smiled, feeling his lips almost brush hers, "For letting me kiss you."

Her face turned red, "What, Barty-"

His lips gently meet hers, giving her a minute to pull away if she wanted to.

But she didn't want to at all.

Her arms wrap around his neck, letting one of her hands wander into his hair and pull him closer.

He sighed in the kiss happily but pulled away. His breath was quick and his eyes filled with lust, "I've wanted to do that for so long."

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Taglist: @marauders-81, @godofstory, @atlass8, @prettyb1tchsblog, @drarry--4--ever

#barty crouch jr imagine #barty crouch fanfiction #barty crouch jr fanfiction #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #david tennant x reader #david tennant #david tennant fanfic

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callsignthirsty · 2 years

Text

Something to Remember Me By

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x F!Reader Summary: Following the graduates’ post-ceremony assignment, Ice becomes stuck in his head. What if Mav hadn’t reengaged? What if his life had ended somewhere up there, over the Indian Ocean? It was a risk of the job. It happened every day. It happened to Goose. Or, the one where the reality of his service hits Ice harder than he ever expected and he decides to give you something to remember him by. Word Count: 3600 Warnings: Smut with some feelings. Slight breeding kink(?) Minors DNI

Ice had been back in Miramar less than an hour and despite his best efforts, everyone knew something was off. He brushed off Hollywood and Wolf with a grin that he didn’t really feel as they’d tried to corral him toward the O Club for a well-deserved drink. Merlin had raised a brow but left it alone. Slider had been another story. The RIO was determined to give him a hard time — needing to get to the bar as badly as Ice needed to steer clear — and tried to convince him they all deserved it after their mission success.

Somehow, Mav had been the only one to understand. His wingman's smile effortless and understanding as he intercepted Slider and redirected his attention long enough for Ice to slip away. He wasn’t even sure where he was going, head still circling some 45,000 feet overhead. And that was how Ice found himself on your doorstep, running on fumes in service khakis long since wrinkled from his return trip and unable to do more than stare at the old knocker on your front door.

He’s been to your home countless times, but he isn’t sure that he should be there now. Like this.

A distant horn brings him back — knocks him just a little closer to the ground — and that’s a good start; otherwise, he may have spent the entire afternoon into dusk just staring. He raises his hand.

Shave and a haircut.

A minute goes by and he wonders if you’re even home. Takes half a step back before your footsteps are approaching from the other side of the door, for the porch light to turn on, then the door is swinging open.

You suck in a breath. “Tom?” You hadn’t been expecting visitors — he hadn’t called — and your voice is colored in equal parts relief and surprise at this unannounced return stateside.

“Can I come in?” He’s only said four words and your expression shifts, your relief short lived. You know, too. Can see the mess hiding behind his stiff stance and carefully schooled expression clear as day. But you still open the door wide enough to let him in.

"Do you want anything to drink?" you ask, already halfway to your kitchen to fetch a glass.

“Water.” He’s still moving on autopilot, sitting on your sofa and taking in your living room decorated sparingly except for a collection of photo frames that line a standard-issue cabinet: your siblings, your parents, your family. Ice’s attention returns to you as you hand him his water, but he sets it on the coffee table without any intention of actually drinking it.

Your eyes flick from the glass sweating in the San Diego summer to the coaster Ice has ignored. He’s sitting beside you, but his mind is still far away. The urge to wrap him in your arms is strong, but you resist. You aren’t sure that’s what he needs right now, so instead of holding him close or asking what’s on his mind, you give him time to organize his thoughts.

It takes a couple minutes or eternities for him to find the words. “We took down the hostiles.” He’s so far from his usual eloquence that he nearly winces, but if you notice, you don't mention it.

A gentle smile graces your lips. “I heard,” you choose to say instead. “You and Mav made it onto the front page of the paper.” And what a relief it had been, to see them again after their rushed exit from the graduation ceremony — smiling, shaking hands, alive. Sleep came easier to you, then. “It’s all Fightertown’s been able to talk about.”

Your words don’t settle Ice the way he’d have thought they would. The old springs of your sofa squeal as he shifts. “It wan’t,” he starts but loses steam. He tries again: “I…” And he knows you’re worried now because it isn’t often that he doesn’t have something to say.

But he feels every bit as cold and detached as his call sign suggests. Struggling to come up with a way to explain the fear that had taken over him. How could you ever understand?

He didn't want you to understand.

Barreling through the sky, pulling out all the tricks and still barely able to escape Death's glacial fingers. He and Slider and the wind howling against the canopy and the hostile on their tail. And he hadn't been able to shake them. He was the best of the best, but what had that meant up there? What if Mav hadn't reengaged? What if he hadn't banked right? The high-pitched whine of the missile lock forcing him into a cold sweat, the sour splash of bile rising in the back of his throat as the missile missed them by feet, and God, he hadn't been sick in a cockpit since flight training.

"Hey," you whisper, clasping Ice's hand in yours before bringing one up to cup his cheek. He leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed as he tries to soak you in.

His breathing is irregular, a cold sweat beading his temples as he continues drifting out to sea. What if his life had ended somewhere over the Indian Ocean? It was a risk of the job. It happened every day.

It happened to Goose.

Ice takes a shaky breath, and his hand brings yours up to his lips, kissing the palm, then your wrist. Still silent. Still a prisoner in his own head. Missile lock ringing between his ears.

Goose had been with them one moment and gone the next. His wife, a widow. His best friend forever changed. But everyone who had loved Goose and been loved by him had something to remember him by in his son. Bradley. What would you have? Would the Defense Department even know to knock on your door? Would they give you anything to remember him by? The flag he'd flown under? Their regrets? His dog tags?

Ice brings your palm to his chest, rests it over his heart, and bluebird skies can't hold a candle to the clarity the simple touch brings him. The weight you lift from his shoulders simply by being. Existing in the same space and time as he is. A tremor runs up his spine, his jaw clenching as he tries to swallow, but his tongue has turned to sandpaper in his mouth.

"Mav saved my life," he admits, eyes locked on yours, and the truth is easier to say than he'd expected. It practically tumbles out. "We wouldn't've made it out of there without him. And…" The realization of what he needs hits him like he's pulling seven Gs, and it's so unexpected that he's dizzy with it. Ashamed of the thought and how it burns him up from the inside, unfurling and fanning until the hot licks of it have scorched his mind, and he struggles to find the words. So, instead, he pulls you into a barely-there kiss, and you go easily.

Ice loves you. He doesn't need to say it. You already know.

But it isn't enough.

Another kiss is laid on your lips, just as tender as the last. Ice knows he'll remember you — think of you with his dying breath whether he's shot out of the sky or goes up in flames. You're the closest Ice has ever come to flying with both his feet on the ground. But he needs more. It's selfish and all-consuming and desperate, and it swims through his veins like a poison until he’s sick with it. Because who is he? What had he done in this life? How could he ensure that a part of him was with you, no matter what? That you'd always have something to remember him by? The thought of leaving you alone in the world drives Ice nearly out of his mind.

His thumb caresses your cheek, then his hand is trailing down until it rests over your flat stomach. "I need you to remember me," he whispers, and this truth is so much harder to concede because he's terrified that it'll be the thing that finally pushes you away. Fear grips him tight around the chest, and his instincts are screaming, 'eject! eject!' so he can live to salvage what's left of his life after the crash, but then your eyes meet his, and Ice holds his breath.

Your eyes are softer than he's ever seen them. They're the eyes of someone who loves him deeply. Someone just as scared as he is, but of what he can't be sure of until your lips tug into a tender smile. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" And Ice is surprised that you're open to the idea because the topic of marriage hasn't even come up yet, and this is all so backward — so dangerous — but it feels so right as your hand joins his, the other cradling the sharp line of his jaw as you tilt him down to place a kiss on his forehead.

"Yeah." And you may have stunned him because it's you who has to initiate the next press of lips.

Your heart flutters low in your stomach as you pull away so you can take Ice's hand and lead him down the hall to the bedroom that is more his than the bed in his assignment has been in weeks. You press him back until his legs bump into the mattress and his arms wrap around you, pulling you close as you move to sit atop his lap. A breathy chuckle fills the space between your lips and he swallows it, your lashes drooping closed. Ice's lips are soft and strong, pressing yours open before pulling away, a clear invitation for you to follow and slot your mouth back against his.

He caresses your sides, hands skimming up and down, thumbs brushing over your hip bones as you sigh into each new, lingering kiss. A delicate brush of lips until you both need more. Because you're doing this.

You're giving this to him.

He'll never leave you alone again.

Ice's need flares. He eliminates the gap between your bodies with a hand on the back of your neck, wraps his arm around you tight, and vows to himself that he'll never let you go. And you're there for all of it: keening and tasting of spearmint and lemonade and the hot ocean breeze as your fingers tangle in blonde hair to urge him into a deeper kiss. He indulges.

As Ice licks into your mouth, your hands leave his scalp to help him out of his shirt — he's wearing entirely too much for what the both of you have planned.

Needy fingers pull at his shirt until it's been untucked, and when you finally force yourself from his lips to focus on the troublesome buttons, he swoops in to distract you with peppered kisses from the corner of your lips down to your neck. You gasp, fingers balling in polyester as he teases sensitive skin between his teeth, then push his shirt from his broad shoulders. Now the only thing between your fingers and the tanned skin of his chest is a white undershirt. You get to work on it immediately, rucking it up as Ice litters your neck with small bites. Your fingers slip beneath the hem, tingling as they land on smooth skin; the touch is electric, zinging straight from your fingertips to the apex of your legs, and you're so hot that you can't stop yourself from rolling your hips against his.

You feel his groan more than you hear it — deep and rumbling against your throat, his teeth working a dark bruise into your tender neck as he grinds up into you. Then, Ice is ripping the shirt over his head, and your eyes wander the miles of his tanned skin as his hands grip your hips and pull you against him again. “Did you miss me?” he asks, hips rolling, and your mouth falls open around a ‘yes’ before he takes them in another kiss. Regrettably, his hands don't linger long. Nimble, calloused fingers slip beneath your shirt, skimming along your side until they're brushing the smooth skin below your breasts, and you break the kiss to shiver.

Ever the opportunist, Ice lifts your shirt over your head, ducking to kiss your collarbone before his hand is splaying against the small of your back to bring your chests flush, the warm metal of his dog tags caught between the two of you, and you pull the chain to bring his lips back to yours with a contented sigh.

A hand moves to your thigh, thumb rubbing circles along the inside as his hand creeps higher until it's brushing beneath the leg of your loose shorts. “You’re so wet,” he groans, white teeth bared in a sharp smile and you suck in a quick breath as Ice parts your lips. “Is all this for me?” His fingers play with your juices, spreading them around until you're absolutely dripping, your legs shaking with the effort to stay still. You nod. “Out loud, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you hiss, and Ice seals his lips over yours, finally slipping a finger into you, and he isn't sure if the moan he swallows belongs to you or not.

"Beautiful," he huffs, squeezes a second finger into you, and another sound escapes your kiss-swollen lips. "You're beautiful." Your heart swells with the compliment, fingers trailing down from where they've been clutching his shoulders until they snag on his belt. His fingers curl against your sweet spot, making it a challenge to pull the leather from its clasp, but once his belt is off, you pop the button on his khakis and drag the zipper down. You bite your lip and palm him through his boxer briefs until Ice brings his fingers, still slick with you, to his lips and moves to push you off his lap.

"Get on the bed."

Slipping from his lap, you settle on your back, head amongst the pillows so you can watch as Ice unlaces his boots and kicks them off with the rest of his clothes. He's beautiful like this. Body trained into hard lines, hair a mess, and eyes a damning blue. Cock bobbing heavy between his thighs, the head flushed a dusky pink. Your thighs clench in a desperate ploy for friction where you need it most. His knee is on the bed, then he crawls up — hands on either side of you as he kisses your calf up to your thigh, grabbing each leg behind your knees and opening you up to his hungry gaze. You jerk, head tipping back and an unabashed moan spilling from your lips when he licks a fat strip up your cunt.

“Tell me what you need,” he purrs, wetting his lips before he ignores the scratch of your nails in his hair and dives back in for another taste.

"Need you." It's an understatement. And fuck him sideways if that isn't the best thing he's heard all day. All week. With a deep breath, he takes you in from his spot between your thighs: hair wild, eyes blown wide, lips bitten and slick with his spit, cheeks an amorous red. He needs you, too.

"I've got you," he says as he acquiesces, drags himself the rest of the way up your body, and presses a filthy kiss to your lips, tongue tainted with the tang of your arousal.

A gentle hand rests on your lower abdomen once again. It's a moment he'll remember for the rest of his life. The most significant thing he's ever committed himself to. The only thing that matters anymore.

“You ready for me?” He’s cocky, but when he reaches for the bedside drawer out of habit, he freezes. His eyes soften a fraction. "Are you sure?" And he’s looking into your eyes but he hasn’t retracted his hand. He will if you say so. Because even though he needs this, he needs to know that you crave it just as badly. Needs to know that you're with him.

"Yeah." You caress his cheek, and he presses his forehead to yours so that you can breathe each other in. "I've never been more sure of anything," you confess, and his hand returns to the bed to hold you close. Before you can say anything embarrassing, you bring him into a kiss, your tongues rolling together slowly.

You whine when you feel him adjust to bring your hips together, the head of his cock pressed right where you want him most, and you can't help but roll your hips together. But Ice doesn't push in right away; instead, running his length through your soaked folds, and you whimper, pussy trembling because the friction is everything.

You're both a bit overwhelmed when he starts to sink into you — it's the first time you've been this close. No room to breathe. No latex.

A needy moan leaves Ice's lips, his eyes slipping shut and plush lips hanging open in ecstasy. "Perfect," he gasps, eyes opening to take in your hot cheeks and glassy eyes. "You're fucking perfect." And he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, nipping at it as he continues to rock into you until your hips are flush, and he has to take a minute or this will all be over before it's really begun.

You mouth at his clenched jaw, lick at the salty skin of his neck and dig your nails in between his shoulder blades. Your entire body is pulsing: heart pounding and blood roaring in your ears. It's unbearable having him completely seated and still inside you, so you wrap your legs around his hips, hoping to entice him into action. It has half the desired effect.

Ice shakes his head. Brows furrowed, he groans like he's toeing the fine line between pleasure and pain. "You're going to make me cum."

"I thought that was the point?" Your grin is lopsided, drunk on the moment, and you bite your bottom lip because you know it drives him mad. Ice keens, rutting his hips shallowly into you, and you encourage him with a lewd moan.

When he finally begins to move, it's all slow movements and breathy groans. His hips, fingers, and lips wringing pleasure out of each moment until you're both sweaty and gasping into each other's mouths.

Ice readjusts your legs so that they wrap higher up on his waist. “You want it, don’t you?” He sinks further into you and grinds against your sweet spot, the pull and push of his cock interrupted as a shudder wracks through him. Fuck, he wants it. He distracts himself, dipping his head to capture your nipple between his lips until you're arching into his mouth.

He grabs your hand, lacing your fingers by your head and kissing you with a flick of his tongue. You chase his lips when they leave yours and you’re trembling. “You going to cum for me?” he mumbles, his hips pressing into you and starting up another slow rhythm. His chest is pressed to yours, his dog tags resting between your breasts and his cheek brushing yours as he shifts like the tide to clap your hips together and continues directly into your ear — “Want to see you cum on my cock.” And your free hand clutches him closer with a whine, your head tossed back in a shameless cry.

“Come on, baby.” When Ice finally brings a hand to rub slow, firm circles into your clit, you’ve lost track of how long you’ve been like this.

"Tom," you rasp, lost to everything but the smell of jet fuel, sweat, and spearmint and the shift of Ice's muscles beneath impossibly smooth skin as his hips snap forward. "Oh fuck, there. Just like that."

“Gonna fill you up.” He's close, too. You can feel it in the way his hips fall out of their carefully maintained rhythm and see it in the wild glint in his eyes. You just need a little more, and it's like he can read your mind because — "Fucking Christ, Tom!" — with a wanton sob, you're there.

The shockwaves of your climax are still rippling through you as Ice snaps his hips once, twice, and lets out his own low groan. He spills into you, drawing out your highs, thrusting sloppily as you encourage him to keep going with your heels crossed against his lower back, enthusiastically milking him for every last drop.

Ice holds himself up on his forearms, panting as he licks into your mouth again, the inferno of his want reduced to embers. You hold him in your arms, running your hands over every bit of him within your reach as the tension drifts from your body, leaving you with a giddy, butterfly feeling in your stomach.

When he finally pulls out of you, Ice sits back and watches as pearly strings of his cum trickle from your still-throbbing pussy. He collects the excess with a finger and pushes it back into you, Adam's apple bobbing as your walls squeeze around him. When his eyes meet yours again, the fear is gone. So is the distance. He's finally home.

"You know," you say, legs falling apart as his eyes return to your cunt, "we'll probably have to do this a couple times."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You nod, a coquettish smile on your lips. "I’ve heard it can take a couple tries."

Ice's smile is slow and easy, taking over his face. He's irresistible, so you don't even try. You pull him back down, a mirroring smile on your lips.

No one sees the Iceman at the O Club for a while.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x reader #iceman x reader #iceman x afab!reader #afab!reader #top gun smut #iceman smut #there isn't enough iceman content #i'm trying to be the content i want to see on this hellsite

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dolcid · 1 year

Text

Cute Little Ferret Boy ▪︎ Harry Potter

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Harry's Twin Sister! Slytherin!Reader

Summary: When Draco is turned into a Ferret, his S/O is there to help him out.

Warnings: established relationship, tad bit of violence if you count Moody turning Draco into a ferret violence lol, canon divergence, bullying maybe? nothing else??? Idk, lmk if I'm missing anything

A/N: was inspired by this post lol

Sitting at a bench in the courtyard of Hogwarts, you were finishing up your charms homework. Draco was there too, sitting in a tree for merlin knows what. He always made sure he had an eye on you somehow. He'd never be too far away, as he wanted to be sure no one was messing with you. Since you were the twin of the famous Harry Potter, a lot of the students at hogwarts loved to tease you for it. Draco had been one of them too at a point in time, but once he realized you two had more in common than anyone he's ever met at the school, he fell in love. Apologizing for his actions, Draco was simply whipped by you. Now he was the one defending you from those teases, even from your brother and his friends. Harry may have been your twin, but that didn't mean you got along. Ever since you came to Hogwarts all the attention was on him, and he enjoyed it. Never once sparing you a glance. His ego was certainly fueled by the fact that he had friends, got good grades, was in Gryffindor, and wasn't affected by all the trauma you both shared. You were happy he wasn't affected by it like you were, but also envious of his ability to overcome it so easily. It wasn't that easy for you, which is why you were here now. In Slytherin, had no friends, struggled with all classes and was merely the "Girl Who Cried" most people didn't even bother to learn your name, only knowing you as Potter's twin sister. It was dreadful really. But Draco made up for the lack of normalcy you wanted. Needed. You'd pray that Harry would see you as a person someday too.

Shaking your head, you attempt to bring your thoughts back to the charms homework you were struggling with. But it was to no avail, you couldn't focus with so many students bristling about. And to make it worse, your brother and his friends just walked in. You visibly tense, not going unnoticed by Draco, who swiftly drops from the tree he was perched in and made his way over to you, not before motioning to his friends to watch your brother. He knew how you felt about Harry. How he never stood up for you like a sibling should. Placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, Draco smiles down at you gently.

"How's the homework coming along?" He asks, voice soft and friendly, a voice only you heard. You smiled up at him, sighing and placing your quill down.

"Could be better," you grovel, blowing a stray hair out of your face. Draco smirks, teasingly.

"I told you, you could ask me for help darling," he says, swiftly sliding into the seat beside you. You groan.

"I know, I just wanted to try on my own first." Draco rubs your lower back encouragedly.

"I'm proud of you for trying,"

As Draco places a gentle kiss to your temple, rustling is heard coming your way. You both look up to see Harry, looking awfully mad.

"Can I help you Potter?" Draco asked, his hand finding yours. You tensed once more, hating the feeling of Harry's eyes on you.

"Yeah, you can stay away from my sister!"

Oh boy you thought. Harry always made sure to harass Draco when he was with you, always putting on a show for the other mindless students that watched. He didn't care truly, you could tell by his eyes. He only wanted to provoke Draco, hoping he would do something stupid and get detention, or worse. Expelled.

You breathe in sharply, staring down at your homework as Draco rolls eyes pale eyes.

"Oh now you care?" Draco sighs audibly.

"We've been over this Potter, you can't make me stop seeing your sister. You're lucky to even call yourself her brother," Draco argued, his hand squeezing yours gently. Harry visibly grew angrier, causing both you and Draco to stand off the bench. This wasn't good...

Draco protectively pulled you against him, sneering at Harry as he got closer.

"Stay back if you know what's good for you, Potter." Draco threatened. Harry merely chuckled.

"If I did what was good for me, my sister would be out of the picture. She's merely a bother, a nobody," Harry spoke, a smirk present on his face.

The next few moments seemed to have stilled, as if somebody had casted a time slowing charm. Draco pulled out his wand, Harry following suit. You panicked and attempted to stop Draco, but before you could, a spell flew at Draco, seemingly turning him into the small white blonde ferret now on the ground beside you.

Suddenly professor Moody emerged from a corridor, his wand aimed at your boyfriend.

"Stop!" You tried to reason, but your wails were thrown to deaf ears. Harry smiled mischievously as Moody started to toss the ferret around in the air, nearly shoving him down his friends pants before you intervened.

"I said Stop!" You shouted, grabbing the ferret and the attention of everyone around you. You panicked again however, quickly turning on your heels and running into the castle, the ferret still in your arms. You made it to the slytherin common room before you attempted to catch your breath, hoping you were far away enough that no one had followed you. Your attention was soon turned to the small ferret in your arms, or more so your boyfriend. You sighed gently and held him close, apologizing to him softly. The ferret squeaked and seemingly understood you, his nose nuzzling into your cheek. You smiled and brushed your hand threw his hair.

"Let's hope this spell wears off soon hm?" You spoke, giggling as the ferret tickled your neck.

Entering the common room, you immediately went to Draco's dorm, as it was where you two would spend most of your time together. Mostly to keep out of the public's eye. It was basically your room at this point too, you slept there, kept clothes there, did homework there, etc. It was bigger than your actual dorm too so that was a plus.

Sitting on your shared bed, you set the ferret down gently, watching as he looked at you curiously. You hesitantly pull out your wand, looking it over before turning to him.

"I don't know if I can help you, I don't want to hurt you," the ferret squeaked, running into your lap.

"Is that a no?" You laughed.

"Maybe we should just wait it out, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something bad happened to you." You spoke, shuddering at the thought. Staring at him fondly, you began to pet him again, finally being able to get a good look at him.

"I must say, you are awfully cute for a ferret," you tease, the ferret merely sighing in response. You giggle and continue to pet him, laying back onto the bed and lying him beside you, on your pillow.

"Why don't we just sleep it off? That'll certainly make it wear off sooner," the ferret seemed to agree, curling up on himself and nustling into your neck.

"I agree." You laugh, taking off your circular glasses and setting them on the dresser nearby.

"I love you Draco, have sweet little ferret dreams," you tease one last time, placing a soft kiss to his head.

When you awoke, it was dark out and the room was cold. You shivered, attempting to curl in on yourself but stopped when you felt a hand on your waist. Remembering the events from earlier, you rubbed the crust from your eyes and turned around, seeing a mop of blonde hair, and his familiar black and green robes. You breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful to see the spell had warn off. Even though Draco was still asleep, you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him, relieved to have his safe, warm, comforting presence back. He woke and automatically hugged back, as if his body knew what to do. He then stilled, flexing his hands. He opened his eyes and inspected himself, sighing in relief as well. Before you could say anything however, Draco had his lips on yours, scrambling any sort of thought you had. He pulled back and rested his forehead to yours.

"That's for saving me. Thank you darling,"

He kissed you once more, his hand pulling you by the waist, closer to him.

"You saved me too, thank you Draco. I love you."

A/N: soooooo what do you think? Lol. I always have a hard time writing x readers for some reason, but I actually had fun this time. Lmao. Reblogs appreciated, and please, let me know your thoughts! <3

#harry potter #harry potter universe #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter's twin sister #twin sister reader #x reader #dolcid's writing #slytherin #slytherin reader #hp

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