໑ content ﹙takes place during the half blood prince, reader and blaise are friends with benefits, mentions of reader being a prefect, blaise is smitten, slight/ mild oral [m receiving], theme of vague voyeurism, one google translated italian word, a poorly described handjob﹚
The train car was full of hearty laughs and loud chatter as the magical locomotive made its way to Hogwarts. Inside the tiny Ravenclaw space, Sue Li, one of your best friends, retold one of her summer ‘worsts’.
Your group pretty much owled each other the entire summer but hearing the story in its entirety left your little squad in stitches - yourself included.
A chuckle escaped your lips at the tale of Sue’s menace of a little sister using the ‘engorgio’ spell on her pet spider just to have it rummage through her closet and destroy one of her favourite pairs of shoes had Padma clutching at her side the whole time. “It’s not funny! Those Dior boots were fucking expensive!” She chided you two. “I swear to Merlin I wanted to beat her ass so bad. And do you know what mother said-”
Sue’s pitched voice faded into the background as your attention drifted to the vast expanse of land the train chugged past. And although it was pretty, nothing could ever come close to the acres and acres of greenery of the Italian vineyard you had spent two and a half weeks of summer at.
You were dotted on like a princess - his princess. Even the warm morning sun rays licked at your skin with tenderness. Birds chipped away outside your window - melodiously singing tunes you could never understand. You never had to lift a finger. Oh how you wish you could go back. . .
Half way through the journey, you decided to take a short walk around the train - and possibly find the Trolley Lady for some more sweets. You were a sweet tooth, you see.
Humming a soft tune to yourself, you made your way through the train and past one of the Slytherin’s cars - making a brief eye-contact with a certain Slytherin who swore he felt his heart rate pick up quite a bit.
Quickly, and nonchalantly, the Slytherin slipped away from his friends and followed you to a more deserted part of the train - where the two of you could be alone.
It was always like this between you two. You would led, and he'd forever follow. He was like a moth drawn to the irresistible flame that was you. A sunflower which didn't mind getting burnt facing the sun, as long as the sun shone brightly down at him - a smitten lovesick Blaise.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you it's wrong to follow a witch into a dark corner?” You turned to face him - a small smirk playing on your lips; the sweets you had just bought clutched in your palm.
“My mother never mentioned anything about the witch being this breathtakingly beautiful.” He moved so close that you could smell the familiar scent of the cologne you got him as a gift over summer. “Hi beautiful.” His arms found home round your waist as he pulled you in for a soft kiss.
“Kissing me in public?” You softly yelped as one of his palms grabbed and slapped at your ass. “Should I take ten points from Slytherin?”
“You can take a hundred points from Slytherin for all I care as long as I get to hold you like this longer.” He whispered into your shoulder, placing gentle kisses at the exposed skin of your neck.
“You really do have a way with words, Zabini.” You hummed, as the soft skin of his lips ghosted past your sweet spot - your knees instantly turning into putty.
“Anything for my beautiful lady.” His voice, as deep as it could get. “I missed you.” He drew his face away from your neck. His dark brown eyes tenderly gazing at you. The hold on your waist never flattering. “Did you miss me?”
He was hopeful, pleading with Merlin that you somewhat felt the same way about him the way he did about you. You could see it.
Deciding against answering him, you pulled him into one of the empty cars and locked it - quickly muttering a spell to shut the drapes. “How about you show me how much you missed me?” You always did this - never really answering him when the question felt too intimate.
“Oh - you know I could do so much more than showing you.” He walks over to you. His hands find their way back around your waist - but this time he hikes you up by the back of your thighs and walks over to the couch and sets himself on it - making you straddle him as a result. “But I want to hold you instead. Is that okay?”
Ignoring the slight bulge pressing against your core, you nodded - wordlessly.
“My mother says hi.” He says, earning a small chuckle from you. Over the two and half weeks you spent at the Zabini vineyard, you loved being in Mrs Zabini’s company. She was actually your idol - you admired her a lot.
Unbeknownst to you Mrs Zabini adored you. She was a bit iffy with the idea of a ‘girl friend’ of his son coming over for a few days at first. But she warmed up to you - quickly realizing why her son was quite taken by you.
“Your dick is pressing against my pussy- and you bring up your mother?”
“I’m just passing her regards.” His warm hands mindlessly drawing mindless shapes and patterns up and down your thighs - mentally thanking Merlin you chose to wear one of his favourite skirts on you. “She really enjoyed your company over the summer. It’s rare to see her that genuinely excited.”
“I had a fun time as well. Although, it was quite strange to see the collection of eyeballs she kept as souvenirs from her previous marriages.” You recalled, slightly leaning forward to faintly brush at his cheek.
Blaise could only nod as he tried to will his hard on away. How could he not get hard when you looked so gorgeous sitting on top of him? How could he not get hard when the sinful, naked, image of you bouncing on his dick, was still fresh on his mind?
The memory of your delicious looking breasts jiggling as he thrusted deeper and deeper into you was one he wanted to frame as a picture and mount it in his bedroom for his eyes alone.
Fuck- the muffled noises you made as you tried to stay quite as he relentlessly pounded into you on his balcony in the middle of the night rang as clear as day in his ears.
The feel of your warm pussy gripping his dick like a vice-
“Blaise?” The soft sound of your voice lulled him back to reality. “Can I take care of it?” You pressed down, and slowly grinded on his hard on. The idea of getting caught made you wetter, and hornier, by the second.
The Slytherin boy could never say no to you. “Fuck- please-” His strained voice had you smiling and shimmying off his lap.
Giggling to yourself, your hand slowly dipped into his sweats and grabbed at his dick. He felt heavy against your palm - the warm precum already dripping from his tip. With laboured breaths, the Zabini boy threw his head against the wall at the feel of your warm tongue against his dick.
“Fuck!” He lowly muttered under his breath. His eyes fell shut at the wonderful sensation. He could cum right there, and then. Placing soft kisses on the veins on his dick, your thumb teased his slit - earning a sharp inhale from him.
“I love it when your dick reacts like this.” You praised - your hand slowly pumping up and down his dick. Bringing your other hand to his balls, you softly squeezed them as your pace on his shaft quickened - making him jolt and thrust into your hand.
“Fuck- bellissima. . . I-”
Getting on your knees, you placed multiple kisses on his abdomen and balls - which quickly sent him over the edge. Strings of hot cum shot up and landed on your face and lips - slowly dripping into your hands as well. You slowly licked him clean and placed a heavy kiss on his dick as you came up.
Straddling him again, you placed a soft kiss on his lips - a goofy grin plastered on his face.
“I think. . . I think I love you.”
His confession felt as a surprise to you. And judging by your shocked, and unsure, reaction, Blaise knew he had fucked up.
Friends don’t kiss.
Friends don’t fuck each other as often and in the manner that you two did.
And friends definitely don’t say I love you especially not with as much conviction as he did.
friends don’t kiss. friends don’t fuck each other as often and in the manner that you two did. and friends definitely don’t say i love you, especially not with as much conviction as he did.
in a story plot as old as the hills, only this time, perhaps the boy doesn't get the girl. . . or does he?
໑ pairing ﹙blaise zabini x ravenclaw!reader﹚
໑ content ﹙takes place during the half blood prince, reader and blaise are thinly vagued friends with benefits, unprotected sex, angsty-angst, he fell first and he fell harder trope, reader is somewhat emotionally constipated, blaise is smitten, and exactly what reader needs, tooth-rooting fluff, padma being a girl's girl, mentions of daddy issues, reader is quite oblivious it's sad, themes of classism and elitism﹚
• witchy [ part one ]
• witch-ier [ part two ]
• not exactly the witch-iest [ part three ]
• just the right witchy [ part four ]
໑ note: uploads aren't quite scheduled, bear with me
໑ content ﹙takes place during the half blood prince, reader and draco are secretly dating and are currently going through a rough patch, reader is amazing at charms, harry's awful in this i'm not sorry, reader is bestfriends with the trio, angst sort of (?)﹚
based on the movie
You plopped next to Harry in the Great Hall, a tired, exhausted, sigh escaping your pink glossed lips. Tired didn't even begin to describe how you were feeling at the moment.
In between perfecting your charms skills, studying and worrying senseless about your boyfriend, you didn't get much sleep.
"Stop it, Ron." Hermione says as she places a gentle hand on his.
Not particularly fond of snow, you harshly wiped the soft white ice crystals off the table and even ruffled some out of your hair.
"Tell me how I broke up with Lavender again." Ron asks for the third time, making you groan in irritation, earning an annoyed look from the red-haired boy.
Lost in your world, the mention of the name 'Katie' and Harry scrambling out of the seat as if it were on fire brought you back to reality.
"Harry?" You called out after him.
And in of the corner of your eye, you saw him.
Draco.
Your boyfriend, or at least you hoped he still was.
You hadn't seen him in weeks. He never replied to any of the numerous owls you sent him. He'd always avoid meeting your eyes. He avoided you in the hallways as well.
You missed him, truly. Did he miss you as well? You couldn't tell.
And honestly, you were beginning to think he didn't.
Nonetheless, your poor heart couldn't take in the sight of him. There was no way the frail-looking boy before you was your boyfriend.
Gone was the familiar hint of smug his light grey eyes held, in its place were grey coloured hues filled with uncertainty, worry, and anxiety. And just when you thought he couldn't get any paler, he was damn near as white as a plain sheet of paper. The half sweater handing off his frame made him look much more skinnier than when you last saw him.
You were really concerned about your Slytherin boy, and seeing Harry rush towards him with a determined look on his face had you getting up as well.
Hot on his tail, you tried calling out his name, "Harry! Harry!"
Something bad was going to happen. You could feel it, and honestly it scared the hell out of you.
You watched your friend's silhouette disappear around the corner, and you couldn't help but pick up your speed.
"Harry!" The Gryffindor finally came to a stop outside the prefect's bathroom. And ignoring your calls for him, he walked right in, you following close behind.
The sound of your boyfriend sobbing by himself near the sinks had you stopping in your tracks. Your heart broke as you heard his uneven breathing pierce through the calm, cold air. His body shaking like a frail twig on a windy day.
You wanted nothing more than to pull him in for a hug, but you couldn't.
"I know what you did, Malfoy" Harry taunted the blonde boy. "You hexed her, didn't you?"
Huh?
Before you could properly wrap your head around the harrowing accusation. A blue light shot at Harry, prompting both of you to duck out of the way.
In retaliation, Harry shot a blast at him, narrowingly missing his frail form to hit the sink; making it explode and burst out water.
"Harry!" You desperately tried to reason with him. "You're going to hurt him." Your voice shook with desperation; as fear gripped your spine like a vice.
"Hurt him?" Harry looked at you incredulously. "He's shooting at me as well! Wait- why do you even care?"
"Hurting him will only put you in trouble, Harry!" You tried to get through to him.
However, your words seemingly landed on deaf ears, as barely two seconds later the Potter boy yelled; "SECTUMSEMPRA!"
You watched in horror as Draco's body flung backwards; landing on the wet floor with a sickening thud. Your hand immediately flew to your chest as a surprised shriek left your lips.
"Draco!" You quickly pushed past the Gryffindor.
Another choked sob fell past your lips. Kneeling beside his bloody figure, your hands immediately went to cradle his head. Tears couldn't stop running down your soft features as you watched your boyfriend not only cry out in pain but also watched as blood steadily seep out of him.
"What are you doing?" Harry grimaced. "He's the enemy!" You paid him no mind.
You had more important things to worry about. With a shaky hand, you pulled out your wand, muttering a vulnera sanentur as you brushed over his wounds.
Your shaky hands then wiped his face. Your fingers brushed his tears and blood, with a gentle touch as if he were delicate glass.
"It's going to be okay." You whisper, more like choked on your own sobs, to him. "You're going to be okay."
To be honest, Draco hadn't noticed you, at first. He was too caught up in his own misery and anxiety over his assignment from the dark Lord to notice your worrying figure beside the boy he hated with all his being.
As the laceration curse hit him, Draco swore he saw his life flash in front of him. He saw his father rotting in a some cell in Azkaban. He saw his mother back in the manor; worried sick about her son.
And most importantly he saw you. His girlfriend.
Oh, how he missed you. He missed your smiles. He missed the sound of your voice. He missed how you stick out your tongue when in deep concentration. He missed how you were the only one who knew him for him, not as a Malfoy.
Oh, Merlin. There was so much he wanted to share with you, but he couldn't. He hated how he had to ignore your existence as if you weren't his first love; just to protect you from the dark Lord.
As he lay in the cold water, in agonizing pain, you were all he could think off.
So when he heard your voice, he honestly thought he was dreaming, hallucinating from the pain. When he felt your soft touch, the blonde boy wanted nothing more than to reach out for you.
However, his limp body failed him each time.
"It's okay." He heard you whisper. "I got you."
໑ note ﹙first fic in almost seven months. sorry if it's a bit boring﹚
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