LOOOOVEEEE!!

I’m cheesing so hard rn🤭🤭 So perfectttt

𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - When Y/N receives a mysterious rose in the Great Hall, Tom Riddle seethes at the thought of an unknown admirer attempting to claim his girl. That night, he makes his move—filling her dorm with sunflowers, signing his name boldly, and ensuring she knows exactly who truly deserves her heart.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 - needed a break from writing Riddles Take Hogwarts and the Looking Glass fics. Don't get me wrong I love writing them but wanted to write someting with Tom x Y/N at hogwarts.

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 - @bernardsbendystraws

The Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter, students indulging in breakfast while owls swooped in, delivering letters and packages from home.

Y/N sat among her friends at the Slytherin table, enjoying a piece of toast when an owl gracefully descended in front of her, dropping a single red rose onto her plate.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as she picked up the delicate flower, her cheeks instantly flushing with warmth. A secret admirer? Her friends leaned in with wide grins, whispering excitedly, but Y/N could only stare at the rose in surprise. Who could have sent it?

Across the table, Tom Riddle’s fingers curled slightly around his fork, his jaw tightening as he watched the scene unfold. His dark eyes flickered to the rose in her hands, the color standing out starkly against her fingertips. A single red rose. How utterly pathetic.

He barely concealed his sneer as he muttered, just loud enough for his friends to hear, "Pathetic."

Draco, seated beside him, smirked knowingly. "Jealous, Riddle?"

Tom scoffed, taking a calculated sip of his tea. "Hardly," he murmured, already formulating his next move. Whoever had sent that miserable excuse of a gift clearly didn't know Y/N—not the way he did.

That night, as the castle settled into its usual quiet, Tom made sure Y/N would never have to question who truly knew her best.

When she returned to her dorm, she barely managed to open the door before being greeted with a sight that stole her breath away—sunflowers. Bouquets upon bouquets of golden sunflowers filled the entrance, their bright petals practically glowing in the dim candlelight.

Her friends shrieked with excitement, their voices blending into a flurry of admiration and envy.

"Merlin, Y/N! Who—?"

"This is so romantic!"

"You can't even get through the door!"

Y/N stood frozen, her heart pounding as her fingers found the small envelope nestled between the bouquets. Carefully, she opened it, her breath hitching when she saw the signature at the bottom.

"T.M.R."

Her lips parted in shock as realization dawned. Tom.

Unlike her so-called secret admirer from earlier, Tom knew. He knew she disliked receiving gifts in public, that she preferred the intimacy of private gestures. He knew roses weren’t her favorite flowers—sunflowers were. And most importantly, he had the confidence to sign his name, making sure she knew exactly who had sent them.

As she entered the common room, still reeling, her gaze locked onto his. Tom sat by the fire, his usual smirk gracing his lips, eyes glinting with triumph. He had planned this perfectly.

Y/N felt her cheeks warm as she clutched the note in her hands. Tom simply arched a brow, as if daring her to say something.

She didn’t need to.

He had already won.

Omg I love this!

Well You Know Me...

Avenger!Bucky Barnes X Goofy!Villain!Reader

Warnings: Reader being an idiot and a flirt, no mentions of Y/N, Reader is a Female and a demigoddess who loves to cause chaos.

Bucky's feet echo along the darkened hall, it's quiet, too quiet for his liking but he keeps moving, he doesn't know why he agreed to come here, to find you, you weren't really a problem per say but you are still on SHIELDS watch list as a threat and after that Loki issue Bucky wasn't taking no chances with you. Bucky gets to a door, it's large and steel, it's nothing out of the ordinary but he's still not lowering his guard knowing you're around, who knows what you'll do. He pushes open the steel double doors and walks in, it's dark, the only light is coming from a purple light in the desk on the corner, he's tense and looking around, he walks in further and feels around for a switch and turns on the lights when he finds it. He has to give it to you, you really have this little evil lair of yours going, with the purple and black furniture, the over dramatic gargoyle statue over the fireplace. He only stares at it blankly.

"Oh what's this? New meat for me to play with?" Bucky jumps out of his skin and turns around quickly, his gun trained on you, he didn't hear you, at all, you just appeared behind him. You smirk and tilt your head, while nothing but mischief gleams in your eyes. "You must be James?" You step closer. "I would give you my name...but that takes the fun out of my game." Bucky just stares not saying a word, his gun still pointed at you and his guard is still up, he was expecting a fight but you just stared at him like a child with a new toy to torment, you had a plate of pizza in your hand and a soda pop in the other.

"What are you doing?" Bucky asks, his eyes narrowed and weary. You laugh and shake your head "I'm on break duh, Evil people need food to." You bite a slice of pizza and grin at him. "Want some?" You say, outstretching your arm to hand him the plate with a raised brow. "No. i don't want your pizza." He scoffs, a grumpy frown forming on his face. "Okay first off rude, i'm not black death, secondly can you please put your gun away, i'm not gonna bite you....Yet."

Bucky's eyes roll, this was gonna be a long night, a very long night....

Two weeks later... "Hey James!" Again you catch Bucky off guard when he walks into your lair, this time though he has you in a headlock and of course you're grinning like an idiot, "Save these tricks for the bedroom James, you haven't even bought me flowers yet." he scowls and let's go of you "Shut up brat, the only flowers you'll get from me is at your funeral is when i kill you." your jaw goes slack and for a minute it's quiet, before a large grin appears on your lips, "Holy shit, that was hot, i knew you could flirt." Bucky blinks, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, he's only known you for a week and you're already driving him up a wall. "Shut up." Bucky grumbles and pushes past you into your lair. "Where is it?" Bucky asks. "Where's what?" You ask innocently. "The gun, with the green squiggly things, that shoots fire, that gun?"

Bucky demands, and stares at you. "Ohhh...that gun, his name is Blaze, and i don't have it."

You lie, Bucky is unamused, and waits for you to tell him. "You won't intimidate me." Your arms cross over your chest and you smirk, i can't give you Blaze, he's the best thing ever created since ultron" You smirk mischievously and chuckle at the look on Bucky's face, until you cave. "Fine, if i give it, will you protect him? it took me forever to birth him." "I'm not promising anything" Bucky grumbles and holds out his hand as you place the gun in his hand. "I'm going now." Bucky turns on his heels and begins to leave but you call out to him. "You know, you could at least leave your phone number since you're taking my son."

you knew he heard as he left and you can't help but laugh. you knew these encounters wouldn't end anytime soon.

i will post part two soon. let me know if this is good🖤

Please kindly give us some Peter S/Reader shower action?

Steamy||Peter Sutherland x fem!reader

Word count —1177

Warnings — shower smut unprotected sex p in v

A/n — finally got motivated to finish this 😭😭

The bathroom was already fogged up, steam curling against the mirror as the hot water cascaded down in a steady rhythm. The hum of the shower filled the space, mingling with the soft rustle of clothes being discarded one by one.

Peter stood beneath the stream, his hands running through his wet hair, droplets sliding down the ridges of his toned chest. His muscles tensed slightly as he turned to face you, his eyes darkened with something deeper than just desire.

“Come here,” he murmured, voice husky from want.

You stepped in, the heat of the water instantly enveloping you, but it was nothing compared to the way Peter’s hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him. His skin was slick, hot under your fingertips as you traced the lines of his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken beneath your palm.

His lips found yours without hesitation—slow at first, teasing, his breath warm against your mouth before his tongue brushed against yours, deepening the kiss. The water streamed between you, but it did nothing to cool the heat building between your bodies.

Peter’s hands roamed, one gripping the back of your neck to keep you close, the other sliding down to your hip, fingers pressing possessively into your skin. When he pulled away just enough to catch his breath, his forehead rested against yours, water dripping from his lashes as he whispered, “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His mouth traced along your jaw, down the column of your throat, kissing, nipping, tasting. Your hands explored him in return, nails skimming along his back, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held himself together—barely.

The shower was relentless, heat wrapping around you both as he pressed you against the cool tile, lips never leaving your skin. There was nothing hurried about the way Peter touched you—it was deliberate, intense, a slow burn that made your knees weak.

He lifted your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his, his thumb tracing along your lower lip. “I need you,” he admitted, voice rough, eyes dark with hunger.

You barely had time to respond before his mouth was on yours again, stealing your breath, claiming every inch of you like you were the only thing that mattered in this moment.

Your back pressed against the shower wall, the porcelain cool against your back, the only point of contrast to the scalding heat of the water as Peter's body pressed up against yours, trapping you in a cage of muscle and desire, his large frame crowding you in.

His lips left yours, and began a slow, wet path down the column of your neck, stopping briefly to suck at the sensitive skin of your pulse point, nipping lightly. His hands remained planted on your hips, his grip almost bruising in intensity.

“So damn beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot against you as his teeth continued their journey, grazing along the slope of your shoulder, leaving a trail of small red marks in their wake.

You arched against him, a gasp escaping you as he found a particularly sensitive spot just above your collarbone, his tongue laving over it before biting down lightly once more. His teeth scraped the area, his lips seeking yours again as he kissed you hard, tongue invading your mouth in a possessive kiss.

His hands left your hips, fingers trailing up your body, along your side, leaving goosebumps in their wake before settling under your thighs. He hoisted you up in one fluid movement, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist, the new position pulling you even closer as he ground his hips into yours.

You could feel his arousal, pressing against your core. It was an almost maddening tease, the need for more growing with each touch and kiss. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you balanced against him, the hot slide of his body against yours driving you both wild with want.

Your breath caught in your throat as Peter pressed closer, the thick heat of his arousal rubbing against your slick folds, your body already trembling with anticipation. The way he looked at you—like he was starving, like nothing else existed but your skin against his—made your heart hammer in your chest.

“Peter…” you breathed, barely able to form the word as your fingers dug into his shoulders.

He growled low in his throat, grinding his hips harder against you. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I want you,” you gasped. “Now. Please.”

That was all it took. In one smooth thrust, he pushed into you, filling you completely. The sudden stretch stole your breath, your back arching as your nails clawed down his back. Peter groaned, forehead dropping to your shoulder as he held still for a beat, giving you a moment to adjust.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he rasped, voice thick with restraint as your walls clenched around him. “So perfect. Made for me.”

Your legs tightened around his waist, urging him on. He began to move, slow at first—long, deep strokes that had you gasping against his mouth, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through your trembling frame. The slick heat of the water, the sound of skin against skin, the breathy moans echoing off the tile—it all blurred into one dizzying, delicious haze.

Peter’s pace quickened, each roll of his hips hitting deeper, harder, your moans growing louder with every thrust. His mouth claimed yours again, desperate and wet, teeth scraping your lip before dragging down your neck to suck another mark into your skin.

“Can’t get enough of you,” he panted against your throat. “I could stay buried inside you forever.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling just enough to draw a groan from deep in his chest. He responded by angling his hips just right, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made your entire body jolt.

“Oh my—Peter!”

“Right there?” he smirked, voice rough with satisfaction. “Yeah, I know.”

You were close, the pressure building fast, your body trembling from head to toe. He felt it too—his grip on you tightened, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release, eyes locked on yours.

“Come for me,” he growled, thrusts deep and relentless. “Let me feel you.”

Your body obeyed, crashing over the edge with a sharp cry, your climax tearing through you like fire. You clenched around him, dragging him over with you, and he cursed as he came, hips snapping once, twice more before stilling, buried deep inside you.

For a moment, the only sounds were your heavy breaths and the rush of water around you.

Peter leaned his forehead against yours again, smiling breathlessly. “Shit,” he laughed softly, brushing wet hair from your face. “We might need another shower after that.”

You laughed too, still wrapped around him. “Only if you promise to get me just as dirty again.”

His smirk turned wicked. “Oh, baby. That was just round one.”

Pretty In Lace

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: When Bob arrives home after his first successful mission, he stumbles upon a surprise waiting for him on his bed.

Warnings: Thunderbolts!Bob, fluff, smut, boob worship, grinding, foreshadowing of p in v.

Author’s Note: Proofread by my favourite @buckyys-babydoll, thank you my love ❤️ dividers by @saradika-graphics.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, I would love to know what you think ✨

“Welcome home, Bobby.” 

Your saccharine voice poured into his ears like honey, melting him from the inside out. He felt the sweetness tighten his jaw, that familiar tingle on the hollow of his cheek forcing saliva to gather on his tongue. 

Bob had to be dreaming. Truly. Because the gift in front of him was too good to be true. 

Supported by your arms, you laid upon his bed, knees tucked together shyly as though you didn’t wear the most sinful smile on your painted lips. 

But even as beautiful it was to see you in his room, waiting on his return, that wasn’t what made his stomach swoop violently. 

No, the result of his heart thumping against his chest like it was about to jump out of his body was the lace that wrapped around your almost naked self. 

Snapping out of his stupor for all of a second, Bob realised he had all but left the door wide open with his hand gripped tightly on the knob. Quickly looking behind him into the hallway to make sure no one had seen what was meant for his eyes only, he was satisfied that no one was loitering before he slammed the door shut and slumped his back against it. 

He didn’t dare move any closer, afraid that he would break the spell he was under — still convinced that he hadn’t woken up — and instead savoured you in all your glory from afar. 

“What’s the matter, silly?” Oh, boy. How the melody of your voice tickled down his spine like a feather. “I don’t bite. I promise.” 

Bob licked his dry lips, swallowing roughly. “What—What is that?” 

You giggled. Fucking giggled. The sound sent a shot of electricity to his crotch. 

“Oh, this?” Smoothing your hands over your partially covered breasts, you made sure to press them together, and let your hands fall abruptly so that they bounced. “This is my treat to you. For completing your first mission.” 

Bob could only run his hand over his mouth in agonising despair, though his eyes stayed locked on the supple skin of your chest. 

Black. You were covered from the neck downwards in midnight black lingerie. And to his utter disbelief, the material was transparent. See-through. Like there wasn’t any point at all in wearing it. 

His chest heaved. Breath coming in too fast for him to calm his racing pulse.

But how could he? When you looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky for you personally. Like he alone was the reason the sun rose in the morning. 

“Jesus, sweetheart. I can’t—fuck—I can’t think straight.” And he couldn’t. Bob felt drunk. Legs wobbling, fingers twitching, eyes darting between every part of your body dipped in the luscious material as his head spun. 

His adams apple bobbed as you repositioned yourself to kneel at the end of his bed and if he wasn’t totally wrecked before, you had completely ruined him now. 

The suspender belt that hung around your waist, connected to the stockings draped over your thighs, made him close his eyes like it physically ached to look at you. 

“Come here, baby,” you sang quietly, full of lust and heat. 

However, Bob shook his head. “Can’t,” he whined. 

“Okay,” you breathed. 

Bob was almost disappointed you had given up so early on your pleading.  

But then he heard the rustle of his sheets, the muted footsteps against the carpet shortening the distance. And finally, he felt the touch of your fingertips resting against the tact suit covering his stomach. “I’ll come to you, then.” 

He jumped out of his skin when you placed the most delicate kiss on his neck, only to be comforted by your gentle hushes as he squirmed. “Won’t you let me see those pretty eyes, Bobby? I’ve missed you so much.”

Fuck. Had he missed you too. 

The last couple of days without you were torture. His skin itched in the lack of your company. His mind unsettled by your physical absence and scarcity in communication. 

And yet there he was, unable to lay his eyes upon you like he hadn’t prayed for this moment to hurry as soon as he left your side. 

You brushed his hair back, unruly and tangled. Nevertheless, you treated him with gentle care, tucking his curls behind his ears.

“I guess it’s a little overwhelming, huh?” you whispered, sliding your hands over his shoulders to intertwine your hands with his own. “Can you trust me?” 

Bob nodded his head, his agreement easily falling from his lips. “Yes.” 

Unbeknownst to him, your smile was blinding. 

Beginning to step backwards, your gentle encouragement allowed Bob to follow you, reliant on your direction to guide him. 

It wasn’t until his knees bumped into the edge of the bed that the two of you stopped and without realising Bob opened his eyes. 

“Hi.” you beamed, kneeling once again. He couldn’t believe your smile was because of him. 

You brought his hands to your waist and he automatically squeezed the meat of your hips. “H-Hi, baby.” 

“There you are.” Your hand rested on his cheek and he wasted no time nuzzling into it. “Thought I’d broken you for a minute then.” 

“Broken?” Bob huffed back a laugh. “Sweetheart, I think you froze my brain.” 

You giggled again and if Bob could replay that sound on repeat for the rest of his days he’d be a lucky man. 

“I’m sorry.” You shrugged, not sounding the least bit apologetic. 

“Don’t be.” Resting his forehead against your own, Bob sounded utterly gone. “God—Never be sorry for it. Fuck, baby, you—you’re so gorgeous it fucking hurts.” 

He felt the way your breathing picked up, adored the way your hands slid around his neck and brought him impossibly closer, loved how you slowly kissed him with the power to make him feel like he was on the cusp of heaven. 

“You like it?” you asked once you broke apart, and the hint of hesitation in your voice was enough for him to go insane. 

Had he been asked that question before you, he would have been impartial. 

Sure, the material offered the ideals of sexiness. He was a man after all, he recognised what attracted him. 

But, holy fuck, his opinion now? He couldn’t believe that for all his life had to offer, all the tribulations he had gone through, that he ended up in that moment with you, blessed to have been bestowed the opportunity to hold you in his arms, dressed like a true goddess. 

It felt sacrilegious as he smoothed his palm over the lace of your stomach. The texture of your lingerie compared to your bare skin almost made his eyes roll back. 

Bob thumbed over the cup of your bra, relishing in the shudder that ran down your spine. “I’ve never been more fortunate in my life than right now. To have my girl deem me lucky enough to see her in something so beautiful. You’re not real.” 

He caught the slight glisten in your waterline, watched how your teeth bit into your bottom lip to stave off the emotion that welled in your throat. “I am real, Robert Reynolds. And I’m all yours.” 

The two of you breathed each other in, content to just exist together for a moment as your noses kissed. 

Touching you after time apart felt like a high he couldn’t get anywhere else. Like without your presence he experienced withdrawals. You were better than any drug, any opiate that existed. 

And that hunger, that raw bliss he needed from you suddenly began to eat away at him; his mind finally reprimanding him for prolonging the gift you had offered so freely. 

Bob thought himself a fool to have taken it for granted at first. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. 

Like a switch had flipped, Bob carefully brought your hands from around his neck and kissed them before letting go. Before you could express your displeasure, he had already begun unzipping his tact suit, peeling the thin leather away from his heated skin and kicking it off his legs. 

Any offending undergarments were practically ripped off too. His compression shirt, his skin tight pants. All gone in the blink of an eye, left in only his underwear. 

“Well, shit, Bobby. It took you a while to get on my level.” All softness from before had vanished, only the wicked gleam in your eyes from earlier awaiting him. 

Bob laughed. “I’m an idiot, baby. Truly.” Bringing his knee up to the bed, his other followed and the surprise etched on your face spurred him on to stalk you as you crawled back. “Didn’t appreciate you fully at first. Wasn’t expecting anything so divine to be waiting for me. But I see you now.” 

You back hit the pillows with a thump as your arms gave out and Bob smirked as he leaned over you, hands trapping each side of your head. “And I’ll take my time unravelling you.” 

Snapping the garter around your thigh, Bob couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline he received when you squealed his name. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” He spread your legs, pinning them down to the bed. An animalistic growl rose in his throat at the sight of your underwear slightly sucked in by your folds. “You wanted me all stupid for you. Admit it, baby. You enjoy making me a mess.” 

You fought the tremor in your voice. “I do.” 

Resting your calf on his shoulder, he kissed your stocking-clad skin. “Gives you a little boost of confidence, doesn’t it?” 

You agreed, glued to his every action. “It does. Like it when you love on me, Bobby.” 

He hummed in approval. 

“Wanted to show you how proud I am. You’ve been working so hard to be mission ready and—and you deserved something good. You deserve everything good.” 

If Bob wasn’t already head over heels for you, he’d have been a goner. 

The truth was, he still struggled with his self-worth most days. Found it difficult to believe that he had the ability to be valued. But then you’d sneak in, reminding him that he didn’t need to earn anything. That his heart was golden and he was loved even if some days his mind told him differently. 

And your word was gospel to him. He knew that he shouldn’t throw the word of God around loosely. Yet, he considered you the closest thing to one. He didn’t need everything good. He just needed you. The purest being of all. 

“You’re so good to me.” Bob bowed, hugging his head to your stomach. He placed a kiss over the bow of your panties. “So damn sweet.” 

The deep groan that freed itself from low in his gut was borderline feral as you loosely wrapped your thighs around his head, slowly dragging the tip of your toe up his spine. “You make it easy.” 

He sucked a bruising kiss into the meat of your thigh, letting himself bask in your warmth — physically and mentally. 

For once, his mind was quiet. There was only room for your combined love for each other. A soul-tie dripping in euphoria. 

Bob had never been more certain that you were made for him. 

“You’re mine.” The declaration was sworn into your skin, each prose written into your flesh like a poem and sealed as a promise. “You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mine.” 

You gripped the bicep of his arms like you knew it too. As though it was a pledge back. I’m yours. I’m yours. I’m yours. 

Bob gasped as your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him up to muse your lips together. His body fell heavy onto yours, seemingly crushing you, but you paid no mind to it, weaving your arms around his torso like you wanted him to absorb into you. 

You panted into each other's mouth, tongues dancing together as Bob’s hips began to grind into your own. It was messy. It was sloppy. Neither of you cared. 

All that mattered was the way your bodies worked with each other. Rutting together like you had deprived them of any contact. Bob’s swollen cock grinded into the heat of your cunt, only two thin layers barricading what you so desperately wanted. 

“Bobby—” His hips stuttered over your sluttish whine. “I need more—please, baby—need more—”

“I know,” he purred. “I know, honey. I’ll give it to you, I swear.” 

Patience had flown out the window. Pressing your tits together, Bob mouthed over the peaked slopes of your nipples. Playing with your body like his own personal toy. 

He ignored your moans, the squirming of your legs, as he manipulated every sensation you felt. “Look at how pretty they look, honey.” Squeezing your breasts, he grinned at the handful. “So fucking sexy in this lace.” 

To his pleasure, you pushed your chest further into his hands. “It’s all for you, baby. All pretty for you.” 

He stared into your eyes as he laved his tongue over your blanketed nipples, sucking them into his mouth before releasing them with a pop. “Yeah, you are.” 

The two of you moved in tandem, still using each other for your own benefit as the tip of his cock continuously nudged your throbbing clit.

You cried out every time. Each shock of gratification tightening the knot in your stomach. It became easier to glide, the sopping wetness leaking from your pussy drenched your panties, in turn soaking the cotton of Bob’s underwear too. 

It didn’t go unnoticed. 

“You missed me that much, huh? My baby gotten all needy since I’ve been away?” 

Your head bobbed up and down erratically, mouth flailed open and yet no words to be heard coming out of it. 

“I’ve been neglecting her.” Bob shook his head like he took it personally. Like he had actually wronged you by not being home to take care of your needs. “Gonna make it right, honey. Gonna make it all better, okay?” 

Bob didn’t give you the chance to reply, not that you could say much. Lifting himself up, he moved the dripping crotch of your panties to the side, moaning at the obscene amount of slick. His boxers were next, pulling them down just enough to allow his aching cock to spring free and land on your pussy with a wet slap. 

“Shit!” you screamed, bucking wildly. “Give it to me, Bobby—please. I can’t wait any longer. I wan’ it now.” 

You had grown desperate, clawing at his arms to pull him closer. Or at least try. 

“Hey, hey, shh.” Bob stroked your hair back, gazing at you fondly as he continued to thrust his hips leisurely. “You can have it. I’ll give you my cock, honey. Gotta be still for me though, yeah? Gotta go easy on you.” 

And just as he expected, you settled as best as you could. Not without the violent twitches of your muscles, screaming to have your empty hole filled full.  

Bob let himself admire you for a couple of seconds. Eyes roaming from the blissed out expression on your face, to your body; primed and raring to put use to the adrenaline pumping through your veins. He had never seen anything more stunning, never thought he’d have the chance to worship a woman as incredible as you. 

So as he rests the tip of his cock against your weeping pussy, attempting with all her might to suck him in, and trifling on the edge of an all time high, Bob takes one last deep breath before he slides his length inside of you. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, ears ringing with white noise, Bob understood in that moment, you were carved into his very being; body, mind and soul. 

And unlike the darker parts of him, the uglier versions that lived within him, you wholeheartedly belonged there and empowered him with a peace that would forever be unmatched. 

Halloween and Loki?! MY FAVOURITE COMBINATION!!! This was so wholesome🤭

Guess Who? (Loki x GN!Reader) Halloween Oneshot/Short

Summary: You manage to convince Loki to come to Stark’s Halloween Party, but why were you so insistent he came?

Rating: All ages/SFW

A/N: just a fun little oneshot, kinda idiots in love trope, best friends who are oblivious they are in love, fluffy/humour

Divider by @whimsicalrogers

“What do you mean you’re not coming?”

“Well… it’s exactly what I said. I’m not coming. I don’t know what else it could possibly mean-“

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“A themed party with strangers in tacky costumes? A ridiculous dress code to which I will be forced to follow?”

“It’s fun!”

“It’s tedious.”

You pouted slightly, shoulders sagging a little as the God of Mischief leaned against the counter, his cup of freshly brewed tea steaming next to him. His arms folded over his chest, a brow raised as he looked at you, seeing the disappointment in your gaze.

Halloween.

It seemed you were rather excited about the yearly mortal tradition, whereas Loki… Well, you heard him. He thought it was ‘tedious’. Of course, Stark was throwing a party - shocker - and whilst you weren’t usually fussed about them, this one was different because it was Halloween. Plus, you may have spent far too long making your costume. Sure, you could’ve just bought one, but it gave you something to do in your free time and you were pretty proud of it.

“I thought Halloween would be right up your alley.” You quipped, raising a brow of your own in a silent challenge. “You don’t even need to dress up, you can just shape shift into something scary.” You paused, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Or you could just go like this.” You teased, gesturing towards him. “I mean, you’re pretty scary.” Loki tilted his head, biting back a smirk.

“Ha. Ha.” He breathed out, deadpan. You grinned, eyes crinkling before a sigh escaped.

“Come on, please.” You took a step closer, standing before him. “You won’t have to talk to anyone else except me, we can just stand off to the side and judge everyone’s costumes. I know you’ll love to do that.” You tried, trying to coax him into agreeing to attend the party. Loki narrowed his eyes slightly, picking up on some hidden agenda you seemed to have behind your encouragement.

“Why is my attendance so important to you?” He asked skeptically, making you shrug faintly, trying to appear casual. “Barton is choosing not to attend and yet, I don’t see you badgering him.”

“Because he’s taking his kids trick or treating!” You argued, seeing Loki roll his eyes. “Besides, we’re best friends-“

“I’m your best friend-“

“We’re best friends-“ You repeated, making Loki smirk as he reached round to grab his cup from the counter, turning slightly away from you to do so. “And I may have a surprise for you.”

Loki’s brows raised at those words, his actions pausing. Slowly, he turned his head to look at you once again. “A surprise?” He asked, curious as you nodded. “For me?” Another nod. Loki hummed lowly in thought, lifting his cup to his lips, taking a small sip. You watched him intently, tilting your head and batting your eyelashes ever so slightly. He had to admit, whenever you pulled that move it was hard for him to say no.

With a heavy sigh, Loki conceded.

“Fine.”

You let out a whispered ‘yes’ in triumph, a smile tugging at your lips. “But-“ Loki raised a finger. “I am not staying until god knows what hour nor am I to be expected to enjoy myself.”

“Seems fair.” You mused, unable to stop the small giddy shuffle of your feet as you cleared your throat. “I promise, it will be worth it.”

Loki stood outside your quarters door, dressed in a tailored all black suit. He refused to adhere to the costume dress code, it was bad enough he was going, let alone having to dress as some sort of ghoul, the undead or something else that was considered ‘spooky’ by the humans. Knocking, he could hear rustling movement behind the door, along with a ‘just a second’. Adjusting the cuffs of his suit jacket, he glanced down the corridor, spotting the familiar figures of Wanda and Vision who had seemingly dressed up as a couple - although, the reference of their outfits was lost on him.

Whilst his gaze was turned, he heard the door click open, seeing your familiar figure out the corner of his eye before he turned to look at you.

Loki’s brows raised, lips parting as he took in your appearance. You were stood with a big grin on your face, arms spread in a ‘ta-da’ manner, clearly extremely pleased with your efforts.

“So… what do you think?” You asked, watching his face closely.

Loki blinked, blue eyes trailing over your form, trying to find the right words.

“You’re…” He muttered. “Me?”

Yes, you had spent the last few weeks putting together a very rough ensemble that was supposed to look like Loki’s Asgardian attire. The horns that sat upon your head had been made out of cardboard, painted gold and fixed to you via an elastic band that went around your head. The emerald cape looked like an old velvet blanket that you’d managed to clip together around your neck with a number of safety pins, draped around your all black one piece that you had decorated with gold paint for details. It was very makeshift.

You nodded your head to his question, the cardboard horns moving with you as Loki processed the sight before him. He didn’t know if he should be offended or flattered at first, before he saw the genuine joy in your eyes. And knowing you… He knew it was a compliment and not a jab.

“Well… It’s certainly…” Loki cleared his throat, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “A look.” He mused playfully. “How long did you spend on this?”

“Too long.” You replied wryly, letting out a small laugh, looking down at your attire. “A few weeks?” You shrugged.

“So, this is what you have been doing in your free time?” He asked, raising a brow as he gestured towards you. Another nod from you. “You spent hours putting this together? You could’ve just… purchased a costume though, correct?”

“Yeah, but I wanted to go as you.” You answered lightly, meeting his gaze again. There was sincerity in your tone, making Loki’s own gaze soften a fraction. “Halloween isn’t just about dressing as something scary or creepy-“ You began to explain. “You can also dress as something you like, or someone you admire or-“

“You admire me?” Loki blinked, surprise colouring his tone. You furrowed your brows, pausing.

“Well… yeah?” You replied, your words coming out in a ‘I thought that was obvious’ tone. “But not in a ‘wow, he’s a God, he’s so cool’ way, in a ‘that’s my friend and he’s kinda cool I guess’ way.” Your words made Loki let out a sound that was a mix of a scoff and a laugh. “I didn’t do it so your ego got bigger.” You added playfully, giving him a knowing look.

Loki couldn’t stop the slow grin that tugged at his lips, the sentiment that you had chosen to dress as him for the costume party was… strangely warming. “I’m afraid that’s the exact outcome this-“ He gestured towards your attire. “-has created.” He teased, leaning casually against the doorframe, tucking his hands into his trouser pockets. You rolled your eyes in amusement. “In fact, I fear my head may be too big to get through the entrance to the party-“

“Uh uh- You said you were coming, so you’re coming.” You pointed up at him, tone stern, making Loki inwardly groan. “I accepted the fact you didn’t want to dress up and let you wear your Gucci suit.” You added, making Loki narrow his eyes into a playful glare. “It’s called compromise, Loki.” With a dramatic sigh, Loki conceded again.

“Fine.” He muttered, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Let’s go make people think I’m even more narcissistic than they already believe me to be.” He quipped, raising a brow. “Considering I will seemingly be in my own company for the evening.” He mused, smirking faintly as he eyed your costume once again. He had to admit, he was secretly… endeared by it. And you did look rather good in green and gold, not that he would admit that aloud.

“If I must attend this farce, it may as well be in company I can endure.” You lowered your voice, mimicking his way of speaking. “Myself, of course. Because my own company is far superior than any of you mere mortals.” You raised your chin, feigning haughtiness as Loki raised brow, tilting his head slightly. His features morphed into a look of amusement and feigned indignation.

“I do not sound like that.” He furrowed his brows, watching as you grabbed your bag.

“I do not sound like that.” You mimicked again.

“Please tell me you’re not going to do that all evening.” His amusement slightly faded, a hint of genuine concern creeping into his voice as he took a step back to allow you to leave your quarters.

“Don’t be absurd.” You commented, one last impersonation before you let out a laugh, closing the door behind you. “No, it’s exhausting being you.” You waved a hand, making Loki let out a breath of relief, hearing you begin to head down the hall. After a moment, he realised what you had said, his lips parting, brows creasing as he quickly moved after you.

“Uh- I don’t think ‘exhausting’ is quite the right word!”

I have a crush on all 3 of them so I need you guys to make this decision for me😅 I want to create all of these options but I’ll do it in the order of what you guys want to see the most.

Go wild my lovelies🤭

A/N: Well hello there my lovelies! I'm pretty new to this whole writing stuff (I've always been more of a passive reader) and am really just trying to have fun with it so I hope I can make you guys happy with my creations🤭 I have no set schedule for when I'll write something but I'll do my best to create some fun stuff for you to read when I get some inspiration. I don't take writing requests because I'm really just using this platform to have fun with what I feel like writing. BUT I am always open to hearing your thoughts about my existing pieces!

Remember, you are responsible for your own media consumption so read the warnings and make smart decisions😌

Please DO NOT copy or repost my work! But of course, feel free to reblog and comment to your heart's content😘

Have fun yall😏

MASTERLIST

Loki Laufeyson

His reaction to your nipple piercings (Drabble) (18+ MDNI!)

Logan Howlett

NSFW Alphabet (18+ MDNI!)

SFW Alphabet

Bucky Barnes

Jasper Hale

Severus Snape

Draco Malfoy

Headcannons (coming soon…)

best friend's brother! tom finally gets you alone

NAVIGATION // home. tag. moodboard. more.

author's note: the demons...they're getting loud again. i'm actually so feral for possessive and obsessive tom. I fear I might make this my whole personality now.

obsession. 

tom riddle was, in every sense of the word, obsessive. the fixation and compulsion he poured into the things he loved had always been a marker of his character. tom was not the type of person to casually partake in something; for the eldest riddle brother, the best things in life were worth being consumed by. 

and he was. 

utterly and irrevocably consumed by you. 

y/n, mattheo’s sweet and innocent best friend. the one whose pretty eyes and lovely smile haunted his every waking moment. the one whose honeyed voice played in his head like a melody and enticed him like a siren’s song. the one whose gentle touch sent his heart racing until he felt as though the damned thing was going to burst out of his bloody chest. 

you had no idea what you did to him, but you would soon enough because tom had a plan. for weeks, he had been plotting and scheming. trying to find the right time to finally get you all to himself. 

fortunately for him, the opportunity arose one fateful evening when mattheo left his phone unattended in the living room. it was so easy, almost too easy, to guess his brother’s password and open up his most recent text thread with you. 

mattheo: come over tonight? 

tom watched as three dots appeared on the screen, indicating that you were currently typing a response. 

y/n: will tom be there?

now that was interesting. perhaps you were asking because you wanted him to be there. wanted him as much as he wanted you. 

mattheo: yes. why do you ask?

y/n: I just don't want to be a bother. I know tom likes to study on tuesdays and me coming over would probably disrupt that.

tom couldn’t help but smile. such a thoughtful, caring girl. he couldn’t wait to ruin you. 

mattheo: tom will be fine. so, are you in or not?  i'll grab your favorite snacks. 

y/n: you had me at snacks.

half an hour later, you were standing in the doorway of the riddle home, dressed in one of those pretty little dresses that tom had imagined ripping off of your body a million times. as the door swung open, those innocent eyes widened at the sight of him. you flushed when tom met your gaze, a light pink hue dusting your cheeks. 

"oh. hi, tom. um, is mattheo here? he asked me to come over." 

tom casually leaned against the frame, giving you a once over that only deepened your flush. "my brother just stepped out, but he should be back soon." 

"o—okay. he's probably out getting snacks." 

tom watched as you lingered in the doorway, anxiously fidgeting with the hem of your dress. he thought it was adorable that you were still nervous around him after all this time. biting back a smile, tom opened the door to his home a little wider. 

"are you coming in?" 

“hm?” you asked absentmindedly. “oh. yeah. yes, i’m coming. not like that. I mean, obviously. shit. ignore me please.” 

tom raised a brow, but said nothing as he barely gave you enough of a gap to squeeze through the door. he smirked to himself as you maneuvered your way inside, perky breasts brushing against his solid chest. tom could smell the sweet scent of your strawberry shampoo as you passed through. he wanted to drown himself in it. you timidly avoided his gaze, choosing instead to follow him into the kitchen in silence.

“would you like something to drink?” 

you nodded. “yes, please, i’ll take a —”

before you could finish your sentence, tom handed you a cold can of vanilla cherry soda. your favorite. you thanked him with a shy smile before following him upstairs. instinctively, you turned in the direction of mattheo’s room, but tom gripped your wrist and kept you in place. 

“you can wait in my room if you’d like. mattheo might be a while. he reeked of weed when he left."

you chuckled. “it does take matty forever to pick out snacks when he’s high.” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other before glancing up at tom through your lashes. “are you sure you don’t mind? I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“i’m sure,” tom confirmed. “I could use the company.” 

with that, you followed tom into his room. unlike mattheo’s, tom’s room was neat and organized. everything was perfect and pristine, much like the man standing before you. tom busied himself by putting away the books and notes on his desk while you fiddled with your fingers, not quite knowing what to do with yourself. 

“sit on the bed,” tom commanded. “make yourself comfortable.” 

“okay.” you replied in a small, breathy voice. 

carefully, you settled at the edge of his bed and crossed your legs. you drummed your fingers against your thigh, pondering how strange this situation was. in all your years of knowing tom, you had never once set foot in his room. at most, you caught glimpses of it when you passed by on your way to mattheo’s room. 

everything was so foreign and interesting. that was the desk where tom does all his studying. that was the closet where he keeps all of his clothes. that was the night stand where he places his glasses on before he goes to sleep. 

that was the bed that he laid in every night. your mind started to wander through all the things that tom had done in this bed. maybe by himself. maybe with someone else. the intrusive thoughts fired off one by one, leaving you flustered. does he soak the sheets when he gets himself off? does he tie his partners to the bed post when he eats them out? does he push their faces into the pillows as he rails them from behind? 

you were so engrossed in your dirty and filthy fantasies that you nearly jumped out of your skin when tom rested a hand on your thigh. 

“hm,” tom hummed. “you’re so jumpy, love.” 

you held your breath as he leaned closer, his face mere inches away from yours. the tension between you ebbed before he carefully took the soda can in your hand and placed it neatly on his nightstand. tom smirked when he noticed the hitch in your breath at his close proximity.

“do I make you nervous, doll?” 

“yes,” you answered truthfully. there was no point in lying. it was written all over your face. “you’re just so…intimidating.” 

“am I?” tom drawled as he slid in beside you, scooting in closer until his thigh was pressed against yours. even through his neatly pressed trousers, you could still feel the heat of his skin on yours. “maybe we just need to get to know each other better.” 

you bit your lip. “i’d like that, tom.” 

“good,” tom drawled. “let’s start with why you think you’d be a bother to me. mattheo told me you were hesitant to come over earlier.” 

you flushed as you stared at your shoes, the curtain of your hair shielding you from tom’s intense gaze. “I know you like your peace and quiet, which mattheo and I probably constantly interrupt. i’m sorry if we’re ever being annoying.” 

“you don’t have to worry about that. you could never bother me,” tom stated in a silky, flirty voice. “the only thing I find annoying is that you’re always with my brother. I just can’t seem to get you alone, can I?” 

you shivered as tom’s gaze flickered down to your lips. “well, we’re alone now.” 

“indeed we are.” you held your breath as tom leaned in closer, the bed dipping under his weight. “you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this. just you and me, without my brother to interrupt. I think about it all the time.” 

tom watched your pupils dilate, reacting to his admission. “what do you think about?” 

“I think about all the things I’d do to you. I think about the way you’d feel, the way you’d sound. if you’d scream or moan or whimper for me.” you shuddered at the sinful confession, rubbing your thighs together as heat rushed to your core. tom’s green gaze felt like a brand against your skin as a predatory look flashed through his handsome face. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.” 

before you could react, tom’s mouth was on yours. the kiss was neither soft nor gentle, but instead hungry and possessive. the magnitude of his desire took you by surprise. you had always thought that tom viewed you as nothing more than mattheo’s pesky friend, the one that came over unannounced and wreaked havoc in his life, but apparently you couldn’t have been more wrong. 

tom kissed you like a man starved. he poured all of himself into the action, tangling his fingers through your hair, yanking your head backwards so he could kiss you deeper. you could barely keep up with the way he was devouring you, his tongue dominating yours while you moaned softly into his mouth. 

a gasp escaped your lips as tom picked you up and placed you on his lap. you were dizzy with desire as you straddled him, whimpering when tom bucked his hips against yours which caused his erection to rub against your soaked core. never in a million years would you have imagined tom to be this dirty and filthy as he grabbed and groped and gorged himself on you. 

your breathy moans filled the room as tom slid his right hand underneath your dress and squeezed your thigh before palming you through your panties. you melted into his touch, moaning his name softly while he growled in response. as he slid the lace aside, tom kissed your neck and teased your slit with his fingers. 

“you’re soaked, doll.” tom said with a dark chuckle. “do I make you wet, hm?” 

“yes,” you breathed, eyes rolling back as tom spread your slick ever so slowly. 

he seemed to take this as encouragement, taking his time teasing you, rubbing your clit and spreading your folds until you were reduced to nothing but a whimpering mess. 

“tom, please…”

“so needy,” tom murmured. “what is it that you want, love?” 

“I want…” you bit your lip as tom stroked your pussy. “I want your fingers. I want them inside of me. please, tom.” 

“aw, doll, you sound so pretty when you beg,” tom cooed. “don’t worry, I couldn't resist you even if I tried.” 

without warning, tom plunged his fingers into your pussy. you groaned at the stretch, face heating from how vulgar the scene unfolding before you truly was. tom watched with rapt attention as you squirmed and panted, drinking in every little moan and whimper like a fine wine. his fingers felt like magic as they curled and scissored and flicked inside your walls. the other hand that wasn’t playing with your pussy rested on your hip, gripping tightly as you grinded against tom. 

“that’s it, doll. ride my fingers just like that.” 

tom was mesmerized at the sight of you using him to get yourself off. mattheo’s sweet and innocent best friend was no longer sweet and innocent as tom fingered and ruined you like the perfect little slut that you were. his perfect little slut.

“are you going to be a good girl and cum for me?” 

tears streamed down your cheeks as you rode tom’s fingers like your life depended on it. your mascara and lipstick were both smeared, but you didn’t care as you chased after your orgasm. you gave tom a weak nod, half out of your mind with pleasure. 

tom gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. “answer me, doll.” 

“y — yes. i’m going to…oh god, tom!” you writhed as tom rubbed your clit with the heel of his palm, pushing you over the edge. 

the glimmer in your eyes right before you came unleashed something within tom. the flushed cheeks and fluttering lashes; the parted lips and strained scream, it was enough to drive him insane. he wanted to see you make that face over and over again. 

“you look so pretty when you cum, doll.” tom murmured as he bit down on your neck, staking his claim on your skin. “you’re fucking exquisite.” 

amusement danced in his gaze as you shied away from the attention, cheeks flushed from the praise. tom locked eyes with you before sticking his fingers in his mouth and licking them clean in the most obscene and erotic way you had ever witnessed. 

“don’t get all shy now, love. it’s your cum i’m licking off my fingers and i’ll be damned if you ever feel nervous around me again.” 

you chuckled in disbelief. the tom riddle in your head was supposed to be prim and proper, but the real tom was salacious and vulgar; a version of him that was better than what you could have ever imagined. still, despite the heated exchange, tom was surprisingly tender as he helped clean you up. you blushed furiously as he pulled your dress down and kissed your cheek. 

the timing couldn’t have been more perfect because soon after you were situated, the two of you heard footsteps in the hall. you barely had time to compose yourself before mattheo came barging into the room. 

“tom, have you seen my phone?” mattheo paused in surprise when he found you staring back at him. “oh, hi y/n. what are you doing here?” 

“you asked me to come over and hang out, remember?” 

“did I?” mattheo wondered aloud. “I was pretty baked earlier. guess I must have texted you then. well, i’m free now if you want to watch a movie.” 

tom smirked as you shot a bewildered glance at him. “oh, yeah sure.” 

“by the way, what are you doing in tom’s room? is he boring you to death about his coin collection again?” 

you blushed furiously. “no, uh, we were just…tom and I were…” 

“we were discussing the finer points of human anatomy,” tom lied smoothly. his smirk was still perfectly in place as he glanced over at you. “it was a rather…stimulating conversation. was it not, doll?” 

the tips of your ears were bright red as you nodded in place of a response, because you couldn’t trust yourself to speak at the moment.

mattheo rolled his eyes. “well, if you’re done being a weirdo, y/n and I will be in the basement.” 

you fiddled with the hem of your dress, not quite able to meet tom’s eyes. “um, well, I guess I’ll see you later?” 

tom winked behind his brother’s back. “you know where to find me, doll.” 

OLD HABITS

slytherin boys x gn!teacher reader (platonic)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 2k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : you graduated three years ago, but the slytherin boys still talk about you like a myth. now you’re back… as their professor.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you were a legend.

not in the grand, historical sense. not the type to be etched into portraits or remembered in dusty school records. no, yours was a different kind of legend. one passed around in whispers in the common room. in smoke trails drifting out from the edge of the astronomy tower. in escape routes down secret staircases no one else dared to use.

so when word spread through the great hall that you were back : alive, employed, and walking the halls as the new magical beasts professor, it caused the kind of silence that could only mean something big was coming.

theo was the first to break it.

“you’re joking.”

“nope,” said blaise, who had overheard one of the hufflepuff girls talking about how hot the new professor was. “apparently they walked in with a hippogriff and didn’t flinch when it tried to snap.”

mattheo leaned forward. “didn’t they teach us how to charm open the back entrance to the owlery?”

“no, that was fourth year,” muttered draco. “third year was the time they found that wine cellar under greenhouse three.”

“that was good wine,” said lorenzo, almost reverently. “and they shared it. with us.”

pansy raised a brow, amused. “I thought they’d disappeared into some forest job in eastern europe.”

“they did,” theo said. “came back with a scar and a lot more patience.”

“and now they’re teaching,” mattheo added, mostly to himself.

draco just smirked and folded his arms. “they better not act all serious and authoritative towards us.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you walked into your first class five minutes early, boots muddy, sleeves rolled up, a little bit of wind in your hair. the creatures for today’s lesson : bowtruckles, nothing dramatic, were already perched on your arm like old friends.

and very familiar faces were waiting for you.

some taller. some sharper around the edges. but still the same underneath.

you took them in : mattheo lounging at the back with that practiced look of boredom, theo twirling his quill lazily, draco sitting like he ran the school, blaise leaning back in his chair with that half-smile, and pansy pretending she wasn’t waiting for you to acknowledge her first.

your mouth twitched. “well. Look what the castle dragged in.”

mattheo’s eyes lit up instantly. “I knew it.”

you raised a brow, setting the bowtruckles gently on the desk. “did you miss me, riddle?”

he shrugged with zero shame. “you’re basically the reason we survived until fourth year.”

“I was more of a cautionary tale than anything.”

“you were our hero,” theo said bluntly.

“I taught you how to siphon firewhiskey out of Slughorn’s reserves once.”

“yup. that’s what i call a heroic act.”

you rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “right, sit up. eyes front. you’re not fourteen anymore.”

draco lifted a brow. “youu’re not that much older than us.”

“three years is a lifetime when you’re a teenage boy,” you said dryly.

they laughed, and for a second it felt like no time had passed at all.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the class was easy. you always had a knack for creatures and a talent for explaining things without sounding like a textbook. the bowtruckles behaved. the students (your old group especially) hung on your every word like they were waiting for you to pull a trick from your sleeve.

you didn’t. not yet at least.

but after class, when the rest of the students filtered out and the sky began to soften into gold, mattheo lingered.

he leaned against the side of your desk, arms folded, posture lazy but eyes bright.

“so,” he said. “you’re a professor now.”

“apparently.”

“didn’t see that coming. honestly? I figured you’d get arrested for breaking into the ministry. or disappear into a dragon preserve and send us mysterious postcards.”

“I almost did.”

mattheo laughed, low and real. you hadn’t realized how much you’d missed that sound.

you gave him a look, then jerked your head toward the door. “still use the second-floor corridor to sneak out after curfew?”

“of course,” he said. “your map still works.”

you blinked. “you still have my map?”

he looked smug. “theo kept it. said it was the closest thing we had to a holy text.

you shook your head, but warmth spread through your chest like firewhiskey. you hadn’t come back expecting much. maybe respect, maybe curiosity. but not this. this instant, easy pull back into the space you'd carved out years ago.

you were still part of them. in a way.

mattheo kicked at the floor with the toe of his boot, then said, more quietly, “it’s kind of weird, seeing you here. like… full circle or something.”

you nodded. “feels weird. but not bad.”

he glanced up at you again, and for just a second, he looked younger. not the too-cool seventh year with a devil-may-care grin, but the fourteen-year-old you once caught crying on the roof after a letter from home. the one you handed a cigarette to without asking questions, just sat next to until the shaking stopped.

and he remembered that. you could tell.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said, softer now.

you just reached into your pocket, pulled out a lighter. the same beat-up one they all used to sneak from your satchel, and held it up between two fingers. mattheo’s face split into a grin. “you brought it.”

“old habits.”

he chuckled and took it, turning it over once in his hands before slipping it into his coat.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

that night, you found yourself walking the familiar path to the astronomy tower. out of curiosity, maybe. or memory.

and you weren't surprised to find them there : your slytherin crew, sprawled out under the stars like they used to be. someone had brought snacks. someone else had smuggled up firewhiskey. theo had dragged a blanket out, and Pansy had already claimed half of it.

“well,” blaise said, lifting his drink, “look who still knows the way.” mattheo just smiled and patted the space beside him.

you sat, and it was like nothing had changed, except everything had. you were older now. a professor. a mentor. anauthority figure.

but to them, you’d always be more than that.

you were the one who taught them how to live a little. to bend the rules without breaking. to find their own way. and now you were back. maybe that’s what real influence was : leaving a mark so deep, even time couldn’t wash it out.

as the night stretched on and the stars spun lazily above the castle, someone passed you a flask. you didn’t ask where it came from. just took a sip, and passed it back, and let the quiet laughter of your old shadows fill the air.

“I should be giving all of you detention, you know that ?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : first gender neutral reader fic, hope i did okay !!!

It’s so cute to see this side of Draco🥰 I LOVED THIS SO MUCH!!!

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Hidden Moments | Draco Malfoy ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem! Reader

Warnings: characters are 18+, soft Draco

Summary: Fluff | A reserved new student finds comfort and connection in the unexpected warmth of Draco Malfoy.

Word count: 7557

author's note: Thank you for this request, anon person! I hope you manage to see this because there is no way to tag you. I also really really hope that you like it! ♡

You sat quietly at the Slytherin table, staring down at your breakfast as you absentmindedly stirred your porridge. The Great Hall buzzed with morning chatter and laughter, but it all felt distant, like background noise that didn’t quite reach you. You weren’t used to this place yet—not the towering walls, not the crowded tables, not the countless faces that were still strangers to you. You felt like a misfit puzzle piece, unsure where you belonged in the grand picture of Hogwarts.

Moving in the middle of the school year had been jarring, to say the least. Just a few weeks ago, you’d been at your old school, surrounded by friends you’d known for years. There, you’d felt safe, comfortable. But that world had been left behind when your parents had abruptly decided to move back to England. You were sure that they had their reasoning but now everything was new and unfamiliar, and it felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under you.

Adjusting was harder than you’d anticipated. Your natural shyness and introverted nature made it difficult to reach out, to speak up, or to introduce yourself. You kept to yourself, trying to avoid the eyes of the other students, your shoulders slightly hunched as if to make yourself smaller. Each meal felt like an ordeal, sitting alone at the Slytherin table, acutely aware of the laughter and conversations happening around you but feeling somehow apart from it all.

You sighed softly, poking at a piece of toast, hoping to blend into the background, just another face in the crowd. But the weight of your solitude was settling on you, heavier with each day. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to make friends—you just didn’t know how to start. The thought of approaching anyone, of forcing yourself into an unfamiliar social circle, made your stomach churn.

Just as you were sinking deeper into your own thoughts, you noticed someone sitting down across from you. Startled, you glanced up, meeting the cool grey eyes of none other than Draco Malfoy. He looked at you with a faint, unreadable smirk, his gaze lingering as if sizing you up. The Draco Malfoy—you’d heard his name more times than you could count in the first month since you’d arrived. He was known for his sharp tongue, his confidence, and the way he commanded attention. Yet here he was, sitting across from you, his eyes flicking from your nervous posture to the untouched food on your plate.

“Lost in thought, are we?” His voice was smooth, almost teasing, breaking the silence in a way that felt both comforting and intimidating.

You felt your cheeks warm, your eyes quickly darting back down to your porridge. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to…” You trailed off, unsure how to explain the storm of emotions that came with being the new, quiet girl at Hogwarts.

He chuckled softly, the sound surprisingly warm despite his reputation. “Don’t apologise.” he said, leaning forward slightly. “It’s just rare to see someone so… silent here.”

You glanced up at him again, noticing the hint of intrigue in his expression. It felt strange, having someone like him show an interest in you, the shy girl who barely spoke. But his gaze wasn’t unkind. If anything, it held a quiet curiosity, as if he were genuinely trying to understand you.

The thought made your pulse quicken, and before you could help it, you muttered, “I’m… just not used to this place yet.”

Draco’s smirk softened, and for a fleeting moment, you could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of something gentler in his eyes. He tilted his head, studying you with a look that seemed oddly thoughtful. “Well, Hogwarts does take some getting used to. But who knows? You might surprise yourself.”

You felt yet another rush of warmth creep into your cheeks as you nodded, hoping your face wasn’t as red as it felt. Draco’s gaze lingered, and in that brief silence, he took in the softness of your features, the subtle beauty of your face, and the way your cheeks had flushed a delicate pink. Something about it made him pause, his usual confidence faltering as he wondered why he found you so… intriguing.

He shouldn’t have been interested, he knew that. He was Draco Malfoy—the boy with a sharp tongue, a cold demeanour, and a reputation for being dangerous. Innocent, shy girls like you weren’t supposed to be on his radar. You were the opposite of everything he was used to, and he was well aware of the shadows he carried, the things that made others keep their distance.

And yet, he couldn’t seem to help himself.

For a moment, he wondered what it was that made him want to approach you. Maybe it was the way you sat there, quiet and introspective, as if the world around you was a whirlwind you wanted no part in. Maybe it was the vulnerability in your eyes, the way you looked both fragile and resilient at the same time. Or maybe it was simply that he hadn’t seen anyone quite as stunning in a way that felt so… unguarded.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “You know, people aren’t always as they seem here.” he said, his voice softening in a way that surprised even him. “Don’t let this place get the best of you.”

Before you could respond, he stood up, his usual mask slipping back into place. He gave you one last lingering look, his grey eyes holding a quiet intensity, as if he wanted to say more but couldn’t bring himself to. Then, with a graceful turn, he walked away, blending back into the bustling crowd in the Great Hall.

As you gathered your things and rose from the Slytherin table, you noticed the subtle, piercing gazes from a group of Slytherin girls nearby. Their eyes tracked your movements, whispers exchanged between them as they took in the fact that Draco Malfoy—the Draco Malfoy—had chosen to sit with you. Feeling the prickling sensation of their stares, you quickly looked away, your cheeks warming once more, and quietly slipped out of the Great Hall, heading toward your first class.

The next few weeks passed in a blur, the strangeness of Hogwarts gradually becoming a little less overwhelming. But the biggest change came from Draco’s steady, quiet presence that somehow became a constant in your days.

It started with him joining you in the library. He would stroll in casually, scanning the rows of tables, and his gaze would settle on you as if you were the only one in the room. Without a word, he’d take a seat beside you, opening a book or unfurling a scroll, but he rarely spoke. You began to understand that he didn’t come for conversation; he came for the silence. For the comfort of sitting next to someone who wasn’t demanding anything from him. And slowly, that realisation helped you relax in his company, allowing the quiet between you to grow into something familiar, something that didn’t need filling.

In classes, Draco would occasionally choose the seat next to yours, sliding his books across the desk and flashing you a brief smirk before settling in. During group assignments, he’d gravitate towards you as well, his approach casual, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. You found yourself looking forward to these moments, the way his presence seemed to bring a subtle warmth to the otherwise intimidating newness of everything around you.

You couldn’t deny that it confused you at first—this gentleness he showed you was so different from the way he treated others. You had seen him snap at classmates, mock students with a cold glint in his eyes, and dismiss people with a sneer. His biting remarks were sharp and unkind, making you wonder why he would ever show interest in someone as quiet as you. And yet, here he was, somehow finding his way into your routine.

As the months passed, you relaxed further in his company, almost forgetting the unease that had once overwhelmed you. You began to enjoy these quiet hours, especially when you’d find him lounging in the Slytherin common room on late evenings. Sometimes, he’d settle down beside you on the couch, his body angled toward you as he made light conversation—little things, unimportant things that felt oddly meaningful because they were shared just between the two of you.

You began to notice the softer side of him, the one he kept hidden from everyone else. With you, he was calmer, almost unguarded, and you often caught glimpses of something thoughtful and kind beneath the layers of harshness he presented to the world. He seemed to find solace in your presence, as if you were a quiet refuge from the demands and expectations pressing down on him.

One night, as you sat together in the common room, the firelight casting a warm glow across his face, you turned to him, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Why are you so… different with me?” you asked softly, your voice barely audible above the crackling of the fire.

Draco looked at you, surprised, his gaze searching yours for a long moment. For once, he seemed at a loss for words. Then, with a quiet sigh, he leaned back, his eyes distant yet gentle.

“Maybe I need a break from… everything else.” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. He looked away, almost as if he were embarrassed to admit it. “With you, it’s just… easy.”

You didn’t press him further. Instead, you smiled, a small, understanding smile that told him you knew, that you understood. And as the two of you sat together in that quiet corner of the common room, you felt the invisible line between you grow a little fainter, replaced by a warmth that seemed to settle in the space between your shoulders.

You felt your cheeks flush as you glanced down, fingers fiddling with the edges of your sleeves. Words danced on the tip of your tongue—words that could have told him you enjoyed his company, that he’d somehow become a comforting presence in your days—but you were far too shy to admit it aloud. And yet, there was a small part of you that sensed he already knew, that he could feel the same unspoken bond forming between you.

After a while, you gathered the courage to look up at him, offering a small smile. “Goodnight, Draco.” you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes softened, and he gave you a slight nod, a quiet acknowledgment that seemed to hold more meaning than any words could. “Goodnight, Y/N.” he replied, his voice carrying a gentleness that still surprised you.

You rose from the couch and walked up the staircase to your dormitory, your heart fluttering as you replayed the evening in your mind, wondering if you’d ever truly understand why Draco Malfoy of all people had chosen to be kind to you.

The next morning the usual hum of chatter in the Great Hall seemed louder, almost electric with excitement. You quickly caught snippets of conversation from the students around you, words floating through the air like bubbles.

“Did you hear? They have announced the Christmas ball!”

“I can’t wait to see what everyone wears! I’ve already got my dress planned…”

“Who do you think will ask you? I heard Blaise is already planning something big…”

The news about a winter Christmas ball spread through the hall like wildfire, with students leaning in close to whisper about who would be asking whom. You felt a pang of nervousness as the reality of the event sank in. Social gatherings were never easy for you, especially something as grand as a ball. The thought of dressing up, of dancing and mingling with so many people, sent a familiar wave of anxiety washing over you.

In the middle of your anxious thoughts, a new one formed, a quiet, tentative hope that made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t help but wonder—would Draco ask you to the ball?

As the day went on, you noticed girls from all houses casting glances in Draco’s direction, some giggling behind their hands, others making excuses to speak to him in passing. It seemed that many hoped for his attention, but he remained as aloof as ever, barely acknowledging them. Yet every so often, you caught his gaze drifting toward you, a fleeting glance that made your cheeks grow warm all over again.

The idea of going with him was enough to send a thrill through you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the panic that settled in your stomach at the thought of attending such an event. Draco Malfoy was an enigma, unpredictable at best, and you couldn’t be sure he would want to bring someone like you, the shy, quiet girl he mostly saw in moments of solitude.

That same evening, you were sitting in the library with your books spread out before you. Just as you were starting to take notes, you felt a familiar presence settle beside you. Glancing up, you saw Draco, his usual calm expression softened with the same quiet interest he always showed when you were alone together. He didn’t speak right away, instead opening his own book and letting the comfortable silence settle over you both.

But as you tried to focus on your reading, you couldn’t shake the hope buzzing in the back of your mind, the anticipation of the possibility. Would he, you wondered, break the silence and ask you to the Christmas ball?

Draco’s eyes were slowly flicking over the pages of his book, seemingly lost in his own world. Minutes ticked by, the comfortable silence stretching on as he read. Then, almost casually, he closed his book and turned to face you.

“So…” he began, his voice soft but with a trace of amusement, “are you planning on going to this Christmas ball everyone’s talking about?”

Your breath caught, and you glanced up, feeling his gaze settle on you. Nervously, you shook your head, almost afraid to admit it. “No, I don’t think so.” you murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The thought of dressing up and stepping into that grand hall, surrounded by so many watchful eyes, made you anxious.

Draco raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not much of a gatherings type, are you?” he asked, his voice holding a teasing warmth that put you slightly at ease.

You nodded, letting out a soft sigh. “I’m… not really comfortable with big events. Especially when there are so many people. I feel like they’re all watching.” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

To your surprise, Draco chuckled, shaking his head as if he found your answer endearing. He leaned back slightly, folding his arms as he regarded you with that familiar, unreadable glint in his eyes. “You’re really something, you know that?” he said, his tone light. “Most people here would jump at the chance to go and show off, to be the centre of attention for the night.”

You looked down, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your book. “Well, I’m… I’m not most people.” you replied, a faint smile tugging at your lips. Being around Draco had somehow made you a little braver, enough to admit the truth.

Draco studied you for a moment, his expression softening, as if he were seeing you in a new light. “Good!” he said finally, his voice so quiet it was almost a murmur. “Maybe that’s why I like being around you. You don’t care about any of that… nonsense.”

You looked up, surprised, meeting his gaze. There was something vulnerable in his expression, something he rarely showed to others. He paused, as if weighing his words, before finally speaking again.

“Would you… reconsider going? If…” He cleared his throat, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “If you had someone to go with who didn’t care about all that either?”

Your heart skipped a beat, your pulse quickening as you tried to process what he was saying. Was he… asking you to go with him?

“I… I don’t know.” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I mean… maybe if it was someone I… trusted to understand.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips, and he leaned a bit closer, his gaze steady and warm. “Well…” he said softly, “you know where to find me if you change your mind on going.”

He rose from his seat, picking up his book, but before leaving, he paused, casting you one last look. “Think about it, Y/N.” he added, his voice just above a whisper. “It might be nice.”

And with that, he left, leaving you alone in the library, your heart racing as you replayed his words in your mind.The idea filled you with both excitement and a nervous anticipation, a warmth that lingered even after he was gone.

You sat alone in the library, Draco’s words replayed over and over in your mind, the softness in his voice, the gentle way he had approached the question. You’d seen other boys ask girls to the ball with grand, showy gestures—flowers that burst into magical blooms, charmed notes that floated through the air, even songs sung embarrassingly loud in the corridors. But Draco… he hadn’t needed any of that.

There had been no spotlight, no audience, no pressure. He’d asked you so simply, as if he already understood that the idea of a big, public proposal would have made you want to disappear. Instead, he’d done it in his own, subtle way—quiet, sincere, and perfectly considerate of your feelings. It was exactly what you hadn’t known you wanted.

A warmth settled over you as you realised how well he seemed to understand you, how he could sense what made you nervous without you even saying it. You’d grown used to people overlooking your quiet nature or not understanding why you shied away from the spotlight, but Draco… Draco saw it and didn’t ask you to change. Instead, he made space for it, like he was offering you a safe corner in the middle of all the chaos around you.

You smiled softly to yourself, fiddling with the corner of your book once again. A part of you still felt nervous, the idea of going to the ball both thrilling and daunting. But another part of you—a quieter, braver part—whispered that maybe, just maybe, you could say yes. The thought of being there, in the midst of all the festive excitement, with only Draco beside you, made the idea feel a little less overwhelming.

With three weeks left until the ball, you found yourself caught between excitement and hesitation. Some days, you were certain you’d say yes, picturing yourself in the glow of the ballroom lights with Draco by your side. Other days, your nerves would flare up, reminding you of how out of place you might feel, surrounded by the dazzling gowns, the lively music, and the endless watchful eyes.

But through it all, Draco remained by your side, unbothered by your indecision. He continued to sit next to you in the library, quietly absorbed in his reading while you went through your own books. Sometimes, you’d exchange a few words or simply share the now familiar comfortable silence. He didn’t push or pry; he simply kept you company, content in the easy rhythm you had both fallen into. It was as though he had sensed your uncertainty and was giving you the time you needed.

Meanwhile, the Slytherin common room buzzed with excitement about the upcoming ball, with Draco’s friends, Blaise and Pansy, constantly teasing him about not having a date yet.

“Come on, Draco, who are you taking?” Blaise would press, nudging him with a knowing smirk. “Or do you plan to go alone, sulking in a corner all night?”

Draco would only shrug, an amused glint in his eyes as he brushed off their questions. “Maybe I prefer the idea of a quiet evening.” he’d reply, his tone nonchalant but his gaze occasionally drifting over to where you sat, studying or writing by the fire.

Pansy, however, wasn’t so easily deterred. She’d roll her eyes, crossing her arms with an exasperated sigh. “You’re Draco Malfoy! You could have anyone in this school on your arm.” she’d insist, clearly baffled by his indifference. “And you’re telling me you don’t even have someone in mind?”

Draco would simply smirk, a secretive look in his eye that none of them could quite decipher. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the right person to come around.” he’d say coolly, casting a glance in your direction before returning to his book.

Every time you overheard these exchanges, your heart would flutter. Though you didn’t show it, you felt a growing warmth at how patient he was, how he seemed unfazed by the usual social pressures that accompanied events like this. Draco could have easily chosen someone else by now, succumbed to the excitement like everyone else around him. But he hadn’t. He was waiting for you, with a quiet confidence that made you feel both comforted and nervous.

As the days ticked by, you found yourself inching closer to a decision. You were no longer as frightened by the idea of the ball, knowing Draco would be there, steady and reassuring as always. And finally, a few days before the event, you decided that maybe you were ready to say yes.

You were sitting  in the common room, quietly finishing up an essay when Draco joined you on the couch, his usual easy smile lighting up his face. He didn’t say anything at first, simply leaning back, his presence calm and familiar as always. The warmth of the fire crackled nearby, casting flickering shadows over the room, and you couldn’t help but feel how the gentle, golden light softened Draco’s sharp features, adding a warmth to him that no one else seemed to notice.

Your heart began to race, and you glanced down, gathering the courage to speak. You’d been turning this moment over in your mind for days, each thought punctuated by the question of whether you were ready. But seeing Draco here, just as patient as ever, you felt a small, shy smile forming on your lips.

He noticed your shift, his gaze sharpening slightly with curiosity. “What is it?” he asked, his tone low and gentle, as if he already sensed the weight of your words.

Taking a deep breath, you finally looked up, meeting his eyes. “Draco… about the ball…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. You watched as his expression softened, the faintest spark lighting up in his gaze. He leaned forward, his focus entirely on you, his expression one of quiet anticipation.

“I’d like to go…” you said softly, your heart pounding so hard you felt it might echo in the quiet room. “With you.”

For a moment, silence stretched between you. His lips curved into a genuine, warm smile, one that seemed to hold a world of understanding, as if he knew just how much it had taken for you to say those words. His eyes softened, his gaze steady and reassuring, and you could see a look of satisfaction flashing across his face as he nodded.

“Good.” he replied, his voice carrying an unmistakable note of excitement beneath his usual cool demeanour. “I’ve been waiting.”

A small, relieved laugh escaped you, and Draco chuckled as well, his eyes never leaving yours. In that quiet moment, with only the crackling of the fire in the background, you felt the weight of your nerves slipping away. All that remained was a warmth in your chest, a quiet thrill that settled in your heart, as if every anxious thought had been soothed by the simple, steady comfort in his gaze.

To your complete surprise, Draco reached over, his hand finding yours, his fingers brushing yours in a way that was both gentle and confident. His thumb traced small circles over your knuckles, a gesture so tender it sent a pleasant shiver through you. You glanced down, unable to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, but Draco simply smiled, his eyes holding a soft amusement as he took in your reaction.

“I wanted to ask you.” he murmured, his tone low, almost conspiratorial, “but I thought I’d give you time. I know you don’t like… big scenes.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest at how well he understood you. “Thank you… for waiting.” you replied, your voice soft.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his fingers lingering as he replied, “You’re worth waiting for.”

The words hung in the air between you. You found yourself lost in his gaze, feeling a connection deeper than anything you’d ever felt before. And in that moment, you knew you’d made the right choice. Whatever nerves remained seemed to melt away in the warmth of his touch, replaced by a quiet excitement, a thrill at the thought of the night to come and the promise of a moment shared only between you.

~~~

It was the day of the ball. You stood in front of the mirror, nervously fiddling with the hem of your gown. The soft black fabric flowed around you like liquid midnight, gliding over your frame with a grace that felt foreign yet beautiful. It was far out of your comfort zone—elegant, sleek, and perhaps a bit too daring for someone used to hiding in the background. The gown covered you in silky waves, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling of being completely exposed.

Your fingers brushed over the card your mother had sent with the gown, her excitement evident in every carefully penned word. She had understood your hesitation, always supporting you in your quiet ways, but her joy at the thought of you stepping into the world was unmistakable. Her words were warm, encouraging, and they echoed in your mind as you took a deep, steadying breath.

With a final adjustment to your elegant hair clip, which held your carefully styled hair in place, you glanced at your reflection, hoping it conveyed even a fraction of the confidence you were trying to muster. You could still hear the gentle encouragement in your mother’s voice, and that small, steady reassurance felt like a quiet strength resting in your heart.

As you made your way down the stairs, you were met with the sight of other girls, adorned in gowns of every colour, dashing past with bright eyes and breathless excitement. They giggled, glancing over their shoulders as they rushed to their dates, their expressions alight with anticipation.

You lingered at the edge of the common room, feeling both a part of and apart from the thrill that filled the air. For a second you thought about abandoning the plan, about turning around to hide back into the safety of your dormitory. But you didn’t, you pushed forward. When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you stopped, breath catching in your throat as your eyes found Draco waiting near the entrance.

He looked striking in his formal attire, a tailored black suit that brought out the sharpness of his features and the cool grey of his eyes. He was watching the door, his expression carefully composed, but as soon as he saw you, his gaze softened, a flicker of warmth melting the usual coolness in his eyes.

For a moment, his gaze swept over you, and you could have sworn you saw the faintest hint of awe there, a subtle appreciation as his eyes lingered on the way the gown draped over you. He took a step closer, his hand extending towards you in a gesture that felt both formal and gentle.

“You look…” He paused, searching for the words, his usual smooth confidence giving way to something more genuine. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

A blush crept up your cheeks, and you managed a small smile, your fingers brushing his as you took his hand. “Thank you.” you murmured, your voice soft. “You… you look amazing too.”

His lips curved into a slight smirk, but there was a softness to it that felt reserved only for you. “Ready?” he asked, his thumb brushing against your hand, sending a reassuring warmth through you.

With a small nod, you felt your nerves settle slightly. It was just you and Draco now, away from the giggling girls and the excited chatter. You stepped into the hallway, your hand in his, his grip steady, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the sense of calm he brought.

When you finally reached the doors to theGrand Hall, Draco paused, turning to you. “If it gets to be too much… just let me know.” he said quietly, his gaze warm and reassuring. “We can slip away, find a quiet corner somewhere. Just us.”

The kindness in his words, the unspoken promise of understanding, made your heart swell with gratitude. You felt the tension in your shoulders ease, the comfort of his presence settling over you like a gentle cloak.

“Thank you, Draco.” you said softly, squeezing his hand as you offered him a genuine smile. 

As the two of you entered the grand hall, the immediate stares from students around you made you instinctively shrink back, your nerves flaring up under the weight of so many curious eyes. You moved a little closer to Draco, letting him act as a buffer between you and the crowd. Sensing your discomfort, he slid a reassuring hand to your waist, pulling you close in a subtle but protective gesture. The warmth of his touch grounded you, his presence like a steady anchor amidst the swirling noise and lights of the hall.

With his hand on your waist, Draco guided you to a quieter corner where he pulled out a chair and gestured for you to sit beside him at one of the tables. You gratefully took the seat, feeling safer tucked close to his side. His casual confidence helped ease some of your nervousness, and though you couldn’t escape the occasional glances thrown your way, you felt a bit more at ease with him near.

It didn’t take long for his friends to spot him. Blaise, Pansy, and Theo approached the table, each wearing expressions that ranged from amused to downright mischievous. Blaise was the first to speak, his lips quirking up into a teasing grin as he looked between you and Draco.

“Had to go for the quiet one, huh, Draco?” he teased, waggling his eyebrows. “Didn’t want to risk someone who’d actually talk back?”

Draco rolled his eyes, but his hand remained steady on your waist, not moving an inch away. “Some of us value peace and quiet, Blaise.” he replied smoothly, his tone laced with just enough sarcasm to make his friend chuckle.

Pansy leaned in, her eyes narrowing playfully as she looked you over, though her expression wasn’t unfriendly. “Didn’t think I’d see you at one of these, Draco.” she said, her voice teasing. “Or you, for that matter.” she added, nodding at you with a raised eyebrow.

Draco’s arm tightened around you slightly, his tone cool but lighthearted. “I’m full of surprises tonight, apparently.” he replied, glancing down at you with a small, private smile that made your cheeks warm. His friends exchanged knowing looks, a mix of surprise and amusement clear on their faces as they took in the uncharacteristically soft look Draco wore when he looked at you.

Theo crossed his arms, a smirk forming on his face. “Never thought I’d see the day when Draco Malfoy would be so… domesticated.” he joked, earning a snicker from Blaise.

Draco shot him a look that was both annoyed and amused, shaking his head. “Better domesticated than chasing after a loudmouth all night.” he replied, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Blaise raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. “Fine, fine. Guess we’ll leave you two ‘quiet ones’ to yourselves, then.” He winked at you before they moved to join the rest of the crowd, casting a few playful glances back in your direction.

As they walked away, you felt yourself relax a little more, the warmth of Draco’s hand still resting on your waist a quiet reminder of his presence. He looked down at you, his gaze softening.

“Sorry about them.” he murmured, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. “They’re… not exactly subtle.”

You shook your head, managing a small smile. “It’s okay. They seem… nice, in their own way.”

Draco smirked, his expression softening as he looked at you. “Nice might be a bit of a stretch. But they’re loyal. And they’re less insufferable once you get to know them.”

You chuckled softly, your nerves easing bit by bit as he continued to keep you close, shielding you from the attention of the room. The music played on, and though the hall was filled with laughter, chatter, and the dazzling movements of dancers, in your corner of the room, it felt like it was just the two of you. And with Draco by your side, you found yourself starting to enjoy the night in a way you hadn’t expected.

Draco never pushed you to join the others on the dance floor or to mingle with the lively crowd that filled the hall. Instead, he seemed perfectly content to sit by your side, his presence calm and reassuring, as if this corner of the grand hall were your own private sanctuary. He leaned back, relaxed, his gaze soft as he looked at you, and the two of you settled into a quiet rhythm, chatting in low voices amidst the distant music and laughter.

You found yourself growing more at ease, the earlier tension gradually slipping away. Draco had an effortless way of drawing you out, his questions thoughtful, never prying. He seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you—asking about your favourite things, your thoughts on Hogwarts, little stories from your past. With every answer, he’d listen intently, offering the occasional smile or chuckle that made you feel… seen, in a way you hadn’t expected.

And he, in turn, shared parts of himself that you could tell he rarely let others see. You learned about his favourite places at Hogwarts, like a small alcove by the lake where he liked to go to think, or the dusty, hidden corners of the library where he would escape when he wanted peace. He even told you about his love for quiet nights spent by the common room fire, when he could let his guard down without feeling the weight of others’ expectations.

Despite still feeling slightly on edge, there was a warmth in Draco’s presence that made the evening unexpectedly pleasant. He didn’t seem to mind your shy responses, your glances down as you fiddled with the edges of your gown, or the way you occasionally looked out at the crowd with slight apprehension. He simply adjusted, keeping the conversation easy and gentle, as if he understood exactly what you needed.

At one point, the music shifted to a slow, softer tune, and you caught a glimpse of couples drifting gracefully across the dance floor. Your heart fluttered slightly, wondering if Draco would ask you to dance. Part of you was terrified at the thought of being in the spotlight, of stepping out onto the floor where everyone could see. But a quieter, hopeful part of you wondered if he’d pull you in close, if his touch would feel as steady as it did now.

Draco must have noticed your gaze, because he leaned forward slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Do you want to dance?” he asked softly, his tone gentle, leaving you the choice.

You hesitated, feeling a mixture of longing and nerves, and shook your head slightly. “I… I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” you admitted, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

He nodded, a warm understanding in his eyes as he settled back into his chair, his hand still resting on yours. “That’s perfectly fine.” he murmured. “I’d rather sit here with you anyway.”

A comfortable silence fell between you as he continued to hold your hand, his thumb tracing gentle patterns over your fingers. It was a simple gesture, but it made you feel safe, like he was willing to shield you from the world outside your quiet bubble. He didn’t push, didn’t ask you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. He was just… there, content to be beside you, in whatever way you needed him to be.

As the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, the low murmur of his voice and his quiet laughter easing the last of your nerves. You’d never imagined that something as simple as sitting beside him, exchanging quiet words, could feel so intimate, so genuine. It was as if he were letting you into a part of himself that no one else got to see, and in turn, you felt safe enough to let down your own walls, if only just a little.

In that moment, with his hand in yours and the soft glow of the candlelight reflecting in his eyes, you realised that this was exactly what you’d hoped for—a night spent in quiet companionship, away from the noise and expectations of the world. Just the two of you, in a space that felt like it was made for you alone.

And somehow, that was enough. More than enough.

You glanced up at Draco, feeling the now-familiar warmth spread across your cheeks, and took a deep breath. Gathering the courage, you looked into his eyes, feeling a small, shy smile tug at your lips.

“Draco…” you murmured, your voice soft, “I… I think I would like to dance with you. Just… away from everyone else.”

His eyes lit up, a gentle smile crossing his face as he gave a slight nod, understanding instantly. He rose from his seat without hesitation, his hand extended towards you. You placed your hand in his, feeling a spark of excitement as he guided you through the hall, weaving between tables and clusters of students, until you reached the doors of the Grand Hall.

Stepping outside, you were greeted by the cold winter’s night air, the faint echo of the ball’s music drifting into the quiet. Draco led you down a pathway lined with twinkling fairy lights, stopping at a secluded spot beneath a large, ancient tree. Here, the soft notes of the music were still audible, blending with the peaceful sounds of the night. It felt magical, almost as if this place had been waiting for the two of you.

Draco turned to face you, his hands gently resting on your waist as he looked into your eyes, his expression warm and inviting. The moonlight cast a soft glow over his features, accentuating the rare tenderness you’d come to recognize in his gaze.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low, as if speaking too loudly might break the spell of the moment.

You nodded, your heart fluttering as you placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his presence wrap around you. Slowly, he guided you into a gentle sway, the two of you moving to the distant melody drifting from the hall. There were no grand gestures, no fancy steps—just the simple rhythm of your bodies moving together, perfectly in sync.

For a moment, everything else faded away. There were no prying eyes, no expectations, just the two of you in this quiet corner of the world. You looked up at him, your cheeks still rosy, feeling the thrill of the dance and the intimacy of being so close.

Draco’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, his voice barely a whisper. “You know, I never thought I’d enjoy a night like this so much.” he murmured. “But… you make it easy.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and a soft smile graced your lips as you looked back at him. “I feel the same way.” you replied, surprised at how natural the words felt. “I didn’t think I’d even be here… but you’ve made tonight feel… special.”

He chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I think it’s you who’s made it special, Y/N.”

The music swelled in the background, he pulled you a little closer, his hands firm yet gentle on your waist. You let yourself relax in his embrace, feeling safe and cherished in a way you hadn’t expected. 

The two of  you moved together in quiet harmony, the world around you seemed to fall away, leaving only the soft music, the gentle sway of your bodies, and the warmth of Draco’s embrace. He pulled you just a little closer, resting his chin gently on the top of your head as you nestled against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat filled your ears, calming and comforting, grounding you in this perfect moment.

You let your eyes close, feeling the warmth of his body radiate through you, and it was as though you could both feel each other’s unspoken emotions in that silence. The night air was crisp, but in his arms, you felt nothing but warmth.

After a few moments, he sighed, the gentle exhale stirring your hair. He shifted slightly, and you felt his chin lift as he looked down at you. You glanced up, meeting his gaze, seeing a softness in his eyes that made your heart race.

“Y/N.” he murmured, his voice low and vulnerable. He paused, as though choosing his words carefully, his expression uncharacteristically uncertain. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you something for a while now.”

You felt your breath catch as his hand gently traced along your waist, the tender pressure sending a pleasant shiver through you.

He swallowed, and his gaze held yours, steady but filled with a quiet intensity. “Would it… would it be okay if I kissed you?”

Your cheeks grew warm, and you felt a nervous, shy smile tugging at your lips. The question hung between you, and though you felt a rush of nerves, you also felt a quiet, undeniable thrill that made you want to lean in and close the space between you.

Biting your lip, you nodded slowly, your gaze dropping to his chest for a moment before lifting to meet his eyes again. “Yes… I’d like that.” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

A gentle smile curved his lips as he leaned down, his hand sliding to cup the side of your face. His thumb brushed softly along your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring, as if he wanted to make sure you felt safe in his arms.

He closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in the lightest, softest of kisses. It was gentle, unhurried, filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter. His hand held you close, cradling your face as he kissed you again, a little more deeply this time, and you felt yourself melt into him, the world around you disappearing entirely.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a soft smile playing on his lips. His hand stayed on your cheek, his thumb brushing soothingly along your skin.

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur in the night. “For trusting me… and for tonight.”

You smiled shyly, your fingers tracing the lapel of his suit jacket as you looked up at him, still a little breathless. For a moment, you simply let yourself take in his warmth, his gaze soft and unguarded in a way you knew he rarely showed.

But instead of replying, you surprised even yourself as you stood up on your tiptoes, leaning in to press your lips against his once more. It was a bold move, uncharacteristic of your usually reserved self, but something about this moment felt right, like it was meant for just the two of you.

Draco’s initial surprise softened almost instantly as he returned the kiss, his hands gently moving to your waist, pulling you closer. This kiss was deeper, filled with a newfound confidence and passion that sent your heart racing. When you finally pulled away, both of you were smiling, his forehead resting against yours as you shared a quiet, almost breathless laugh.

“Oh wow?” he murmured, his voice low, full of surprise.

You chuckled softly, feeling a little more daring than before. “Maybe I should be bold more often.” you whispered, meeting his gaze with a new spark of confidence.

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’d certainly encourage it.”

In that moment, with the quiet music playing in the background and his arms wrapped around you, it felt as though you had found something rare and precious—a feeling that went beyond words, beyond the excitement of the ball, and straight to the heart of what it meant to share something true.

You weren’t sure what would happen between you and Draco after today. But as the two of you stood together, swaying gently under the stars, you knew that this night was a memory you would hold onto forever.

Likes, reblogs and comments are always very much appreciated! ♡

© slytherinsmuse. please do not copy, claim, translate or steal any of my works as your own.