Chapter Text
“Oh, Merlin.”
A strained cry left your lips as you bucked your hips, nails digging into your naked breast while your other hand tangled into the hair of the girl kneeling in front of you. Imelda let out a chuckle, briefly withdrawing her tongue from your folds to flash you a smile that was glazed with your essence.
“Good girl…” she purred, no, growled before plunging back into your warm depths, causing you to whimper in pleasure.
You had more or less known what to expect when you started dating Slytherin’s Quidditch Captain, though in fairness, you’d had no way of knowing just how insatiable she was. Sometimes it seemed like you couldn’t go a minute without having her tongue or fingers inside of you, doing things that often left you unable to walk upright for days after. Not that you particularly minded. If anything, it was even a little flattering, the way your body worked on her like an aphrodisiac; drawing her to you like a moth to a flame. Besides, your orgasms had never been better.
Speaking of which, you suddenly felt a telltale quivering deep inside your pussy, warm numbness spreading from your core to your inner thighs, your breath shallowing at the utter perfection of the feeling. Dark eyes shot up to look at you, trapping you in their devilish gaze as Imelda continued slurping away, clearly having no intention of delaying your release any further. You counted yourself lucky; she usually wasn’t so generous, having found a particular kink in the sound of your begging.
“Oh… oh, fuck,”
You cried, throwing your head back, her muffled groans only giving you a clue as to the filth she would be talking to you right now if she could. You would have been perfectly fine with being scolded to your climax, but right now you wanted nothing more than to just come, to reward your girlfriend with the sweet nectar she was so desperately craving. Sure enough, soon your walls were clamping down on her tongue buried deep inside you, eyes rolling back into your skull as you let out a sinful cry. Imelda cooed with delight, not letting any of your precious honey go to waste as she used her long, curling tongue to lick around your folds, giving your clit a last little flick. You lost your balance, your knees giving out as your orgasm rocked through you. Like always, though, you felt Imelda’s strong grip before you could fall to the floor. She quickly carried you over to the bed – a recent addition to your Room of Requirement you had been gratefully taking a lot of advantage of – and threw you down on the mattress. You giggled as you hit the sheets, quickly being smothered by her lips, which still bore the sweet taste of your juices.
Imelda propped herself up on her elbows, a smile playing on her lips as she hovered above you. “You’re a fucking treat, you know.”
“Miss Reyes, are you getting sentimental on me?” you teased.
“Don’t ruin the mood.” She leaned down, planting another kiss on your lips. “Then again, I’ll admit there’s a lot to like.”
“Uh-huh.” You chuckled, swapping a few more lazy kisses before she settled down beside you, a content sigh leaving her lips. You spent a few minutes basking in your afterglow, allowing your breath to return to its normal rhythm while the little electric currents running through your body slowly dissipated. Imelda sat up and retrieved a pair of cigarettes from the bedside table, using the tip of her wand to light them before extending one toward you. As you took a drag, you watched the wisps of silver-grey smoke curling toward the ceiling.
“Mind if I ask you something?” you inquired.
“Go ahead,” Imelda responded.
“You remember our first time, right? The Quidditch afterparty at the end of our sixth year?”
“Aye, I do. Just the parts I care to remember though.”
A smile tugged at your lips, the memory of that night – and especially the less-than-glamorous morning after – still living on vividly in your mind. “I suppose it’s a little odd it took two bottles of Firewhisky for us to finally act on our feelings.”
Imelda glanced at you, taking a drag from her cigarette. “Do you mean you regret it?”
“Oh, Merlin, no. I felt bloody awful the next morning, but that definitely wasn’t because of what we did.” Shifting to get a better view of her, you admired the elegant curve of her spine. “What intrigues me is – it didn’t really come as a surprise to either of us, right? We were always needling each other, bantering, pretending we weren’t actually flirting…”
“True. So what’s your point?”
“Well, I can explain my being reluctant… but you’ve never been one to beat around the bush. So, indulge me. Why was it only then that you decided to take action?”
Imelda fell into a brief contemplation before speaking, her words slightly hesitant. “I suppose I could tell you, but I don’t think I should.”
“Come on, don’t give me that rubbish,” you laughed, playfully swatting her arm.
“No, seriously. You’d absolutely hate me if I told you.”
“Melly,” you said in a whiny voice, predictably causing her to roll her eyes at you.
“All right, fine,” she grumbled, releasing a puff of smoke. “So, here’s my horrible little confession: I might have known that Sebastian Sallow had a crush on you, and I might have jumped at the chance to fuck his precious girlie before he could.”
Your jaw dropped at the revelation. “Oh my stars, you devious bitch!”
“Look, in my defence, I was piss drunk. And it really wasn’t the only reason – or the most important one, for that matter.”
You squinted at her, tilting your head. “But still.”
“Oh, get off your fucking high horse,” Imelda scoffed. “I wasn’t even going to do anything until you kissed me first.”
A soft chuckle escaped you. “Yeah, I suppose that’s on me. Though I admit, hearing this now, I’m as much as aroused as I am offended.”
“Ooh,” Imelda snickered, “now who’s being kinky?”
“Shut up,” you replied, but before you knew it the Slytherin was already back on top of you, teasing you with little pecks on your collarbone.
“You just love it when I get all possessive, don’t you?” she taunted between kisses. “Telling you you’re mine, claiming you as my little plaything…”
You involuntarily let out a cute little moan. Imelda had always had a way with words, particularly when it came to saying just the right things to turn you on, but this was causing an especially hot feeling in the pit of your stomach. It didn’t help that her voice was occasionally slipping into a deep, animalistic growl that made you shudder with primal delight.
“That’s always been the best part of dating you, you know,” she hummed. “Having you all to myself…”
“So you would never think of sharing me?”
You’d meant it as a joke, but to your surprise she seemed to genuinely contemplate it. “Definitely no lads. But if they were a cute little thing like you…”
You tried to keep a straight face on the off chance that she was just messing with you, but even if she was, you could hardly deny the idea sounded hot as hell. “What, like Natty Onai?”
“Ew, no. No Gryffindors. I don’t want to spend all night hearing their shite about how great they are.”
“Okay, fair enough,” you conceded with a chuckle. “How about McDowell then?”
Imelda thought for a moment. “Violet’s cute. Don’t think she does gals, though. What about that Hufflepuff friend of yours?“
“Who? Poppy?”
“Uh-huh. I reckon she’d be a ton of fun. I have it on good authority that badgers tend to be freaks in bed.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” you laughed. “For one, we definitely don’t have that kind of relationship.”
“Yeah, right,” Imelda huffed, pressing another kiss on your shoulder. “I do have eyes, just so you know. If we weren’t fucking, I might actually be jealous.”
“Aw, I’m so touched.” You wrapped your arms around her neck, staring lovingly into your girlfriend’s brown eyes. “I guess I better let you keep me all to yourself, then.”
A smile spread across her face, and she leaned in to kiss you – deeply, passionately. You felt warm all over, not even noticing her finger slipping down until you felt something brushing past your sensitive clit, drawing a gasp from you.
“Seems like someone has gotten a little wet again,” Imelda chuckled. “Want me to take care of that?”
You nodded with a smile, having a slight suspicion this wasn’t going to be the last time she made that offer tonight.
A couple of days later, you found yourself humming as you made your way down to the lake for your next Care of Magical Creatures class. Upon arrival, you merged seamlessly with the group of students already gathered, your gaze sweeping the surroundings until a familiar voice reached you from behind: “Hello, MC!”
Turning around, you greeted the cheerful Hufflepuff with a smile of your own. “Hello, Poppy! Why, am I mistaken, or have you grown a tad taller?”
Poppy crossed her arms, punctuating her sigh with an eye roll. “Oh, the wit. That joke’s been well worn by now, you know.”
“Eh, I wouldn’t be so sure. Still gets a chuckle out of me.” Your attention was suddenly drawn to a couple of bruises on her forearm. Worry edged your voice as you stepped closer. “Hey, are you all right?”
She looked at her arm. “Oh, this? It’s nothing, really. Just some extra assignments for Professor Howin in preparation for my NEWTs. You know how it is, the creatures can be a handful sometimes.”
“You should be more careful, you know. Doing your exams is going to be hard without your limbs.”
“Oh, I’ll be fine. I know what I am doing. But – I appreciate your concern.”
It might have been your imagination, but you almost seemed to detect just the slightest hint of a blush on her cheeks as she said it. Before you could respond, though, Professor Howin called the class to attention and handed out your assignments. You were instructed to head up to a group of Dugbogs and select one specimen as a reference for an anatomy sketch. Opting to partner with Poppy, you ventured out with the other students, finding a comfortable spot on a nearby slope that provided a clear view of the herd. Settling down, you retrieved your parchment and pencil, the rustling of grass around you creating an ideal backdrop for concentration.
After a while, you decided to strike up another conversation: “So, no chances left to luck then? With your studies, I mean.”
“Certainly not,” Poppy answered without looking up. “Well, I am worrying a bit about Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts, but they don’t matter as much as Care of Magical Creatures when it comes to my post-school ambitions, obviously.”
“Yeah, of course. Though I will say that if anyone is guaranteed to pass their Beasts NEWT with flying colours, it’s you.”
Poppy brought her hand up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, flashing you a quick smile. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you to say. You’ve been doing quite well yourself.”
“Think so?” You inspected your sketch, realizing you’d drawn the creature’s legs in the wrong position. After correcting it, you shrugged. “Not sure about that.”
“Everyone has their strengths. Besides, you’ve done more to help me than anyone else, so it’s not like you lack the experience –”
“I suppose so. Don’t think kicking poacher arse earns me any extra credit, though.”
“Well, it should.” The two of you shared a laugh before relishing another quiet moment. You had to admit that it felt rather nice to spend time with Poppy like this, even if it was in class. You briefly recalled what Imelda had mentioned about your friendship; of course you knew she was just taking the piss, but if you were honest with yourself – wasn’t Poppy the entire reason you had decided to keep your Beasts elective in the first place? You hadn’t really thought much of it at the time, assuming it was the easiest way of making sure you still got to spend time together between your study frenzies, but even now you realised signing up for an entire class just to be able to see your friend seemed a bit overkill… especially considering you weren’t even that good at it.
“How are things with you and Imelda?” Poppy asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You are still seeing each other, right?”
Oh, definitely more than just seeing, you thought to yourself with a smirk. “We’ve been quite well, actually. I’m still hounding her to focus less on Quidditch and more on making it through her exams, but you know how she is. Couldn’t get that woman to listen even if I had thirty Howlers chew her out all at once.”
Poppy chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that. But you’re not actually… you know, worried?”
“Honestly, I don’t think I have any right to be. It’s her dream and she obviously knows what she’s doing. Besides, I think she’s the only person at Hogwarts who’s mad enough to be able to pull it off.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Her smile lingered before she added, “And if you ever need help taming her…”
You cocked an eyebrow, smirking at the Hufflepuff. “Miss Sweeting, did you just make some kind of unsavoury suggestion?!”
Truth be told, you were enjoying the sudden horrified expression on her otherwise innocent face just a little too much. “N-no!” she stammered. “I didn’t mean it that way!”
But then you burst out laughing, clutching your sides as you started tearing up. Poppy’s face instantly turned to a scowl. “Oh, that’s mean!” she exclaimed, though you noted she sounded more relieved than mad.
“I’m sorry… it’s just – your face…” you giggled between gasps for breath, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Gods, that was just great.”
“I’m happy that you enjoyed yourself, but it seems that in your unbridled enthusiasm you ended up scaring away all of the Dugbogs.” Following her pointed finger, you noted the suddenly empty shoreline.
“Oh, bugger. Eh, sorry about that. I guess we’ll just head back to Professor Howin and I’ll explain –”
“Don’t be silly.” Poppy snatched the parchment out of your hands, quickly beginning to finish the rough lines you’d already drawn. You settled back with your hands in your lap, shaking your head to yourself. “Where would I be without you?”
Soft snores filled the air, surrounding you as you lay curled up in bed, the deep and dark veil of sleep slowly enveloping you. You were exhausted, the result of a late-night study session at the library. As you settled in for a well-earned rest, your senses were roused by a presence nearby, the sound of bare feet moving across the floor.
“MC?” a gentle voice reached you.
“Hm? Mel?” You rubbed your eyes, the silhouette of your girlfriend gradually sharpening before you. “What’s going on?”
Imelda stood by your bedside, clad in a simple camisole. You instantly assumed she’d come to find you for a nighttime snack, but as your mind cleared, you sensed an unusual unease about her. She fidgeted, clearly avoiding your gaze. “Can we talk?”
“Uh, I’m not really in the mood –”
“It’s not that, I promise.” She sighed, a hint of frustration in her voice. “I just… I need to talk to you. Please.”
You sat up, curious about what had rattled your typically composed girlfriend. Imelda motioned for you to follow, and as you complied, stepping out of bed and leaving your dorm, you wondered what could be on her mind. The two of you made your way to the empty common room. Settling into a pair of comfortable armchairs near a window overlooking the lake, you crossed your legs, giving her space. She gazed at her lap, exhaling deeply.
“MC…”
She hesitated, drawing a breath before blurting out, “I like you.”
The unexpected declaration caught you off guard. Your eyes darted uncertainly, a dry swallow betraying your surprise. “There’s more, or…?”
“No. Yes. I mean – damn it.” She squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. “Ugh, I knew this was a bad idea –”
“Hey, hey, calm down.” You reached out and took her hand, giving it just the tiniest squeeze to put her at ease, even though you didn’t really know what you were doing. Quite frankly, this version of Imelda was scaring you a little. “You know I’m the only one who’s allowed to be a drama queen.”
To your relief, her tense expression softened. “Yeah, and often doing a piss poor job at it too.”
“Oh, fuck you.” You shared a chuckle before she seemed ready to give it another shot. “Look, MC… I’ve been thinking lately. I know I’m always taking the piss, acting like I’m only in it for the sex and giggles, things like that. I know we agreed to keep things light when we decided to give this whole relationship a try, and I appreciate you putting up with that, but… I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted more, you know?”
You held back your response, allowing her to continue. True enough, you had sometimes harboured just the slightest bit of resentment over the lack of deeper intimacy in your relationship, but you respected Imelda’s boundaries.
“After we started fooling around, you once mentioned I’d made you realise some things about yourself,” Imelda continued. “I think that goes for me too. I spent a long time being scared shitless of even just the idea of a relationship. Before you, I was religious about only doing flings – worrying that the minute I allowed myself to get close to someone, I’d be throwing away my life and dreams and everything I worked so hard for. And it’s still hard not to feel that way. But… I also know that with you, it’s different. You’re strong, patient, determined... I feel like you understand me in a way no one else does.”
Her small, calloused fingers interlaced with yours, seeking solace. She looked at you, tears glistening before she wiped them away. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is – well, fuck, I like you. I really like you. And even though I don’t know what this will mean for me, for us – I just want to say that if you wanted this to be more serious, then damn it, I’m in.”
A moment of quiet followed, allowing her words to sink in. This side of Imelda was entirely new – raw and exposed. You realised how much it meant that she was opening herself up to you like this.
You gave her a little smile as you moved your hand to cup her cheek, her body immediately freezing at the gesture. “You silly thing… you know I would never let you give up your dreams for me. I love you, I want to support you, I want to celebrate with you when you win, comfort you when you lose –”
A grin appeared on her face. “Except we both know I never lose.”
“Well, sure. Everyone can do flying.” You leaned in closer. “But how about I give you a real challenge?”
Those were all the words she needed to hear. She pulled you up and before you were able to draw a breath she had her arms around you, claiming you for herself with a warmth and a sensuality that had you instantly melt like honey into her embrace. It was so much different from the other times she had kissed you, so full of need, of craving so strong that you easily felt like you were falling in love with her all over again. Both your cheeks were flushed when you finally parted, her palm cradling your face, fingers grazing your lips.
“Gods, the things I could do to you right now…”
You smiled, planting a peck on her lips. “I can’t wait, my love. But we should save it for a later time. You have training, and I’ve got studying tomorrow. We should both get some rest.”
She seemed slightly disappointed, but understanding flickered in her eyes. You exchanged another brief kiss before heading back to your dorm. Unsurprisingly, sleep claimed you easily, your thoughts wandering into slumber with the lingering sensation of Imelda’s kiss on your lips.
“Oh, blast.”
Poppy muttered softly as her eyes fell upon the small group of students gathered further down the path. She quickly turned around before they had a chance to spot her, clutching her bag and lowering her head to obscure her face. Seconds ticked by as she anxiously awaited any change in their conversation, a mention of her name, a sign of recognition – but it never came. She breathed a sigh of relief, starting back up the hill. Finding an alternative route to the pens would take longer, but she’d endure it gladly if it meant escaping the juvenile jokes and another reference to Peculiar Poppy…
It was then that another figure emerged down the path. At first, the person wasn’t immediately recognizable, but after squinting, Poppy noticed the unmistakable emerald green Quidditch robes.
Oh, for the love of –
There was no way out. Trapped between two scenarios, she was bound to face one of them. She made a halfhearted attempt at slipping off the path in what she hoped was an inconspicuous way, but her efforts were in vain – she’d already been spotted. A familiar voice called out.
“Hey, Sweeting!”
She straightened her back and put on her best courteous smile as Imelda approached her. “Oh, hello, Imelda! Off to practice, I presume?”
Imelda arched an eyebrow. “Gee, what gave it away?” She shifted her broom to her other hand. “What are you doing out, anyway? Don’t you have studying to do?”
“Well, yes, actually.” Poppy replied, scrambling for an excuse. “I was on my way to collect new assignments from Professor Howin, but, uhm –” she briefly cast a nervous glance at the group of students still loitering further down the path – “I just realised I left my quill!"
“Really now?” Imelda frowned. “Well, why don’t you just borrow mine? I always bring a spare for marking my lap times.”
“N-no,” Poppy stammered, trying to buy more time. “I wouldn't want to inconvenience you –”
“Don’t be daft. You’re not going to trek all the way back for a quill. Take it.”
Seeing no other option but to resign to the situation, Poppy took the quill from Imelda, less frustrated over her thwarted excuse than surprised by the apparent gesture of kindness. She put the feather away, trying to think of something to draw the attention away from herself. “So, uhm, are you headed for the Quidditch pitch?” she decided to ask.
Imelda nodded. “Couldn’t head out beyond the school grounds anymore even if I wanted to. MC has me on a leash these days.”
Poppy chuckled. “She’s merely concerned. Then again, I’m surprised that you’re actually listening to her."
“Like I have a choice. Woman would tie me up to a damn chair if she could. Not that I’d mind, honestly.”
Noticing Poppy’s freckles darken, the Slytherin let out a mischievous laugh. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her I told you that. Anyway – since we are both headed that way, wanna tag along?”
It occurred to Poppy that she could very well have conjured another excuse if she had wanted to, but then again, Imelda didn’t seem all that bad. Plus, having the Captain around would conceivably be the best way to avoid a scolding, so she simply nodded, moving alongside the other girl as they started sauntering down the path.
“I happened to speak to MC a couple of days ago,” Poppy said. “I’m glad to know you two are doing well.”
“Aye, me too,” Imelda replied, her tone shifting slightly. “We… actually had a pretty good conversation last night. I think things are really starting to get serious between us.”
“Oh?”
She didn’t mean to sound disappointed – she really didn’t. But then why couldn’t she feel happy for Imelda and MC? She’d known things had been heading this way for a while, had even expected them to, but now that it was seemingly official she suddenly found herself unable to accept it.
“Come on, you can say it,” Imelda said, instantly snapping her out of her thoughts. “I know it’s bloody asinine.”
“No, not at all. Why would you say that?”
“Well –” The Slytherin sighed. “I don’t rightly know. For the past seven years, all I’ve ever fancied was Quidditch. I’ve only ever had to rely on myself. I suppose I’m just having trouble getting used to the idea of sharing my life with someone else.”
Poppy looked at her feet. “I’d imagine it’s only natural to be a little scared. But I would take it as a good sign – it means this bond you two share is truly something special. And if you would ask me, I’d say that MC couldn’t be a luckier girl.”
Imelda furrowed her brow as she looked at the Hufflepuff out of the corner of her eye, certainly not having missed the melancholy in her voice this time around. She’d always known there was something between the girl and MC – heck, implying as much was her favourite way of getting a raise out of her girlfriend – but she’d never really contemplated the idea that it could be anything serious. Fuck, was Poppy feeling jealous?
They passed the group of students, the conversation dying down momentarily. True to Poppy’s prediction, they shot curious glances her way but remained silent with Imelda present. Once they were out of earshot, Poppy released an audible sigh of relief.
Imelda cocked an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t be afraid to show a little bite, you know. They keep singling you out because they know you ain’t about to put up a fight.”
“I know,” Poppy sighed, “I just don’t want to cause any more trouble –”
“Oh, bull. You’re not going to tell me that the girl who rescued a literal dragon can’t manage to stand up to a couple of bullies.”
Poppy looked up at Imelda, her blush deepening. “MC… told you about that?”
“Of course she did. Hell, most of the time I can’t get her to shut up about how you’re taking it to those poachers. You’re gutsier than you look, you know.”
A proud smile illuminated Poppy’s face. “I… I suppose I am. That means a lot, coming from you.”
Imelda grinned before her face turned to a more solemn expression. “Listen, I know I’ve given you a hard time before. Can’t say I’m very proud of it. You have no reason to trust me now, but… if you’re up for it, I wouldn’t mind getting to know each other better.”
The proposal was unexpected, jarring even, yet something in Poppy felt that it was the right thing to do. She only briefly contemplated the offer before nodding. “I think I’d like that.”
“Great,” Imelda smiled. “Oh, and MC mentioned something about a Hippogriff?”
Weeks melted away, and in your sincere estimation, the bond between you and Imelda had never been stronger. Your redefined relationship had given you plenty of new things to appreciate about each other, from stolen kisses before entering the common room to hidden notes waiting to be discovered in your bags. Waking up to find flowers gracing your bedside table had taken some adjustment, but you found it largely endearing that she was working so hard to prove to you that she was taking things seriously.
And that didn’t even include the pure delight your sex life had become. Sure, you’d enjoyed the physical intimacy of each other’s bodies before, but it was like exploring a whole new world now that you were truly making love instead of just committing a physical act. Imelda still wasn’t too big on the whole public affection thing, but she never seemed to pass up an opportunity to drag you into some hidden alcove to do things that usually left you running late for your next class – although even that didn’t bother you as much as it used to.
All in all, you could say that life was pretty damn perfect. Of course, you had no way of knowing just how much your life was about to change again – though then again, you weren’t sure it would have made any difference either way.
You stood in the shadow of the Quidditch stands, observing the congregation of players spread across the field. Your girlfriend commanded the usual centre of attention, barking orders and giving feedback to the team. Even from a distance, you could sense her resolute determination; exams or not, Imelda wasn’t willing to leave anything to chance in her final school tournament.
You made sure not to draw much attention to yourself as the players walked off, knowing how Imelda didn’t like getting the personal mixed up with the professional, though there was an unmistakable smirk playing on her lips when you popped out to her. “This area is for players only, you know.”
“Aw, the Captain’s girlfriend doesn’t get special privileges?” you pouted, causing her to chuckle. “Fine, you can stay.” She moved up to you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I was starting to miss you anyway.”
“I must admit, I’m starting to get quite fond of this side of you.”
“Don’t push it. I’d still kick your arse any day if I wanted.”
The two of you headed to the changing rooms, thankfully now empty as most players had their busy studying schedules to attend to. You watched Imelda as she took off her arm pads, leaning back against the wall. “You played brilliantly today,” you said. “From the looks of it, you’re more than ready to win this thing.”
“Yeah, well, looks alone ain’t enough,” Imelda grumbled. “We’re still nowhere where we need to be on offence. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them to focus if they keep flying with their head up their arse –”
“They’ll come together when it’s time for the match. You know they’ve got plenty to deal with as it is.”
“Well, they shouldn’t have joined the bloody team then,” Imelda snapped, before closing her eyes and taking a breath to steady herself. “I suppose… maybe I’ve been a tad harsh on them. Can’t say my own mind has been fully in the game lately.”
“Hey, simmer down, Captain.” Without hesitation, you stepped behind her, placing your hands on her shoulders. Gods, she was tense; it felt like every single muscle in her body was wound up tightly like a coil. It pained you to know that she was pushing herself to her limits like this. “Stop finding ways to blame yourself. You’re going to be great. All this doubt is just going to keep your attention away from where it should be.”
“Guess you’re right.” Imelda’s exhale was soft as she relaxed beneath your touch. With skilful ease, you worked on her shoulders, your hands moving to her arms, offering soothing strokes. You could sense her beginning to ease into your hold, her stress giving way to the kind of relief you had become quite the expert at providing.
“That’s it…” you cooed, noting the tremble in her neck with a light smile, “just let me take care of you…”
You moved your hands back to her shoulders and started applying pressure, using your thumbs to massage the back of her neck, earning a deep groan from her. “Oh, yes, just like that – that’s perfect.”
You let out a chuckle. “I can tell you needed this.”
“Mmm… you always seem to know just what I need…”
Your heart made a little leap at the comment, the pride of being able to bring this comfort to your lover was a sensation like no other. Feeling her body respond to your touch in all the right ways along with the sounds she was making was giving you some rather naughty ideas. Your fingers slipped down her back, and you wondered just how long you would be able to keep up the pretence before she caught on to your true intentions…
As you had expected, it didn’t take long for her thin lips to curl into a knowing smile. “What are you doing?”
“Just caring for my lovely girlfriend,” you hummed innocently as your hands snuck around to her front, reaching the band of her trousers. “You seem so tense, I figured you could do with some extra attention…”
“In public? My, I seem to be quite the corrupting influence –”
You chuckled, your hot breath tickling her ear. “Who says it wasn’t my idea?”
“Don’t talk nonsense,” she scoffed. “We both know you’re a puss– yyyy”
Her words were lost to a throaty moan as the first of your digits dipped into her trousers and brushed against the little bundle of heat. There was absolutely no hiding it: she was dripping, and probably had been from the moment you’d put your hands on her.
“Oh yeah,” you concluded, “someone’s definitely aching down there.”
“Less talking, more action,” she commanded, grinding against your palm in a futile effort to create more friction, though you were the only one who could bring her relief and she knew it. In fact, you decided you wanted to enjoy this rare position of control just a little longer. Bringing two fingers together, you started teasing her folds, using her own slick to make a lovely little mess of her inner thighs. You listened to the grinding of her teeth, her body involuntarily responding to your movements. An oddly weak-sounding whimper rolled from her parted lips as she furrowed her brow, causing a rush of heat between your own legs.
“Stop f-fucking teasing me,” she whined, obviously hating that she couldn’t even manage to keep her voice under control as you tormented her like this. You smiled wickedly as you drew circles around her clit, your teeth grazing the skin of her lobe. “You may be in charge out there on the field, Captain, but here I’ve got you right at my fingertips…”
A particularly close brush past her sensitive little nub caused her to shiver against you. You felt at least a little bad for punishing her like this, but the rare thrill of having her depend on you was hardly something to be resisted. Usually it was Imelda taking charge, pulling your strings, dictating when and how you came. Now that you were able to set the terms for a change, you were keen to make the most out of it.
Imelda kept whining, bucking her hips to guide your hand. “Come… on….” she gasped, her voice breaking.
You figured she probably couldn’t get much more closer to the edge than she was now. So you leaned in even further, whispering to her: “My poor princess… do you want me inside? Do you want me to make you cum?”
The only reply Imelda could manage was a frantic nod, but you weren’t about to indulge her that easily. Your voice grew huskier, almost like a growl: “Then beg me, princess.”
Maybe you expected her to put up more of a fight, but then again, you had already done a pretty good job shattering her resolve. The cutest little whimper you would have never associated with the tough Slytherin reached your ears: “P-please…”
You were a little thankful the other players had already left, as the guttural grunt she emitted when you finally inserted your finger would have alerted anyone in the near vicinity to what the two of you were up to. You sank in to the knuckle, feeling her clench around your digit – and that was when you heard it.
Someone was gasping.
You instantly turned your head, your eyes searching for the possible intruder. You saw the benches, the lockers, and the small open area leading to the field beyond, all empty. Maybe it had just been your imagination, then? After all, Imelda wasn’t exactly trying very hard to stay quiet –
She contracted around you again, her walls squeezing your finger tightly, and you simply threw any caution to the wind. Your lips returned to her earlobe, briefly tugging on it before you started down her neck, tenderly kissing the skin as you were rewarded with a blissful string of moans and curses; and then you went to work to give your girlfriend the relief she was so desperately craving, unaware of the pair of hazelnut eyes observing every move.
Poppy had not meant to catch the two of you in the act. She had not even expected to find you there, merely having gone out to invite Imelda for a trip to Hogsmeade. As strange as it sounded – even to herself – she had come to appreciate the other Slytherin’s company more than she dared to admit, and not just because of the bullies. Maybe it was because the way she spoke about Quidditch reminded her so much of her own experience; a deep-rooted passion that had always been at the very centre of her being, nurtured by someone very close to her heart. Poppy had been surprised to find that underneath the rough edge and all the bravado was another girl with hopes and dreams, much like you, much like herself. Besides, she was simply a lot of fun to be around.
So Poppy had come down to the Quidditch pitch to find her, only to find the two of you locked in a steamy embrace with your hand down Imelda’s trousers. To say she was shocked would be an understatement. She realized she had stumbled upon something forbidden, something never intended for her eyes. The wisest course of action would be to leave immediately and erase the image from her mind.
And yet… she found that she couldn’t. It was bad, and incredibly depraved – but there was something mesmerizing about the whole display that captured her gaze and wouldn’t let go. The way the smaller girl was writhing against you, producing sounds that were so unlike the way she normally conducted herself left an odd stirring deep within the Hufflepuff. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she saw the utterly wicked expression on your face, saw how much you were… enjoying this, despite not being on the receiving end. She didn’t know much about sex, but she knew enough about the heat throbbing between her legs to realise that seeing you like this was really turning her on.
You made a particular move that caused Imelda to let out a deep groan, and before Poppy could help herself, she parted her lips and gasped.
Thankfully, she was able to pull back behind one of the lockers just as you turned your head to look. She anxiously held her breath, chest tightening as her mind raced with nightmare scenarios. There was no way out – she couldn’t possibly explain away her presence, much less plausibly deny she had been watching you for as long as she had. Quite frankly, she deserved everything the two of you were about to lob at her. There was no washing away the shame she had brought on herself; Perverted Poppy, spying on other people. If her Gran heard about this…
But then you turned your attention back to Imelda. For a moment, Poppy wasn’t sure what was going on; it was only after you started kissing Imelda’s neck that she realised you hadn’t seen her. She let out a silent sigh of relief, carefully peeking around the corner in case you were still the slightest bit attentive. But the way you went to work on the other Slytherin didn’t leave any doubt about it; you were completely oblivious to the fact that you were being watched.
That close brush with eternal embarrassment should have been the most evident signal to make a swift exit, yet strangely… it was kind of having the opposite effect. The thrill of nearly having been caught had turned the throbbing between her legs to a warm trickle, and that wasn’t even considering how she couldn’t keep her eyes off you two. Her fingers slowly wandered down her vest, beginning to rub herself through the fabric as she watched you finger-fuck Imelda into a trembling mess. She had never really allowed herself to think of you this way, valuing your friendship too much to risk doing anything to change it, though right now she couldn’t help but let her mind wander… imagining what it would be like if she was the one at the centre of attention, feeling your hands on her body and your sweet whispers in her ear while Imelda had her way with her pussy, greedily lapping at her until she was moaning just as loudly as the Slytherin was now…
Her knees started to feel weak and she had to bite down on her bottom lip to stifle a whimper. Just a few steps away, you were increasing your pace, the room filling with a stereo of obscenely wet sounds and your loving taunts.
“That’s it baby… keep making those noises for me… you know I won’t stop until I’ve got you spitting all over my fingers…”
Poppy closed her eyes, focusing on your voice, imagining it was she you were talking to right now. So unbelievably depraved… you would never know what she had done… how could she ever look you in the eye again knowing that you –
A particularly loud curse from Imelda snapped her out of her reverie. She opened her eyes just in time to see the Slytherin collapsing against you, legs shaking so heavily that for a moment she was worried the girl might actually hurt herself. You held her tightly as her climax washed over her, and then the room filled with your content laughter.
“Bloody hell,” Imelda said with a lopsided smile, “remind me to let you take care of me more often!”
“You know I’m always happy to, my love.” You kissed her neck again, helping her regain her balance before you withdrew your fingers from her soaked undies and made a show of cleaning her off your fingers.
Imelda chuckled. “As great as that was, I really could do with a shower now. Care to join, or…?”
“I doubt you would end up much cleaner if I did. You go ahead, I’ll be waiting back at the common room.”
Imelda seemed a bit disappointed about missing out on a shower together, though the orgasm you had just given her didn’t leave her in much of a position to protest. So she took her leave, but not before yanking you by your tie and pressing a deep kiss to your lips, winking at you as she departed with a sway of her hips.
You chuckled to yourself, remembering to straighten your clothes before you headed outside. Out of curiosity, you threw another glance at the lockers as you passed. As you had more or less expected, there was not a living soul in sight… though you couldn’t help but notice the very faint smell of Hippogriffs.
“Quickly, get in and close the door!”
You tumbled into your Room of Requirement, closely followed by Poppy and your nabsack. Briefly checking for any missing limbs, you were relieved to find that the two of you were still in one piece, although your robe was torn to shreds and Poppy’s tie and one of her shoes seemed to be missing. Collapsing onto a nearby sofa, you leaned back, letting out a deep breath. “I can’t believe we survived that... What even happened? All I remember is trying to Disapparate, and suddenly, we were right in the thick of it –”
“I suspect we miscalculated,” Poppy sighed, mirroring your lead as she dropped into an armchair. “We were meant to Apparate right outside the castle gates, but we ended up smack in the middle of a poacher camp.”
“Right.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “That must have been my fault. I was trying to focus, but I think I lost my bearings… Merlin, I’m so sorry Poppy. I could have gotten us both killed –”
“It’s all right,” Poppy said, her face immediately turning to an expression of concern. “We’re both here, safe. And more importantly, we accomplished what we set out to do.”
Lifting the nabsack, she directed your attention to it, prompting you to sit up. “The unicorn…? Is she…?”
“She’s alive and well,” Poppy affirmed, her smile beaming with pride. “I managed to snag her before the poachers could spring their trap. Just for good measure, though, I think we best release her into her new sanctuary right away.”
“Of course. You go ahead, I’ll be right behind you.”
Chuckling softly, you watched as the determined Hufflepuff sprang to her feet and dashed off toward the Swamp Vivarium, moving as if she had in fact not just barely escaped from certain death. You wish you could say the same for yourself. As you rose from the sofa, a sharp pain shot from your thigh to your side, causing you to wince and lean back against the cushions. Thankfully, Poppy seemed to be too preoccupied to pay much attention to you right now – you didn’t want her to worry further, still feeling guilty over the danger you had put her in.
With some effort, you followed her into the Vivarium, the thick marshy scent filling your nostrils. Standing by her side, you met her gaze and gave a confirming nod as she placed her hand on the nabsack’s buckle. She undid it, clutching the bag as it quivered; then, a ray of light burst forth, unveiling a splendid creature with the most exquisite golden fur. You and Poppy both sighed in awe, watching the unicorn as she curiously took in her new surroundings. It was a sight that never lost its enchantment.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Poppy smiled.
“Yes, she truly is.”
Your words weren’t solely directed at the unicorn. Out of the corner of her eye, Poppy caught your gaze, her cheeks flushing with a rosy hue. Before you could say anything to alleviate the awkwardness, though, a sudden pain in your side caused you to flinch and hunch over, emitting a hiss between your teeth.
Instantly, the Hufflepuff was by your side, her hands reaching out to you. “You’re hurt,” she said, the surprise in her voice triggering a pang of guilt in your gut.
“Just a scratch,” you grunted, dismissing the discomfort. “I’ll walk it off –”
“MC.”
You weren’t a stranger to Poppy’s shifts in demeanour, though sometimes you still marvelled at her ability to go from introverted to assertive in less than a second – this time being no exception. Finding yourself in no position to resist, you surrendered to her grasp and allowed her to lead you back into your Room, sinking into the sofa while she hastened to retrieve her healing kit. You focused on your breathing, taking deep inhalations as Poppy returned and began assembling herbs to craft a healing paste for your wound.
“I’m so sorry for all of this,” you sighed, the weight of guilt hanging heavy over you. “If only I hadn’t been so reckless –”
“Enough,” Poppy replied without looking up, her tone firm. “We both accepted the risks when we decided to do this. And anyway, we did break a fair number of noses.”
You smiled, watching as Poppy carefully lifted your vest and applied the paste, gently smearing it over the bruised area. A sense of physical relief immediately came over you, numbing the pain.
“You saved my life,” you said to her.
“I suppose that makes us even,” she answered with a smile.
“I mean it. I don’t think I’d even be here if it wasn’t for you. And I probably don’t say this enough, but… I’m really glad to have you as my friend, Poppy.”
The Hufflepuff pulled back, seeming hesitant. Clearly she had not expected such a solemn confession from you.
“I admit… I deeply treasure our friendship as well. There aren’t many who would be willing to take such great risks for me.”
Her attention shifted to a minor gash on your forehead. “Hold still,” she instructed, promptly applying more paste as she leaned in to tend to the wound. You shivered slightly, not so much because of the paste’s chill as of the delicate touch of Poppy’s fingers against your skin. You had always noted a kind of innocent prettiness about her, but now she appeared simply radiant as she gently cared for your injury, moving with a grace and elegance that you had never fully appreciated before. Her soft brown eyes inadvertently lowered, your gazes meeting, and a silence enveloped you both.
“Poppy…” you croaked, your voice hoarse.
And then, she kissed you.
Neither of you had intended it. You weren’t even sure whether Poppy had initiated it. All you felt were her lips meeting yours and the realization that you weren’t resisting. A warmth spread from within, flushing your cheeks and quickening your heartbeat – the same rhythm you felt from Poppy. The kiss was brief, a mere moment, yet it seemed as though hours had passed when you eventually broke away, the sudden silence crashing over you like a cold wave.
Poppy appeared mortified. “I’m – I’m sorry,” she stammered, her cheeks flushed. “I shouldn’t have –”
“MC!”
Before you could fully gather your thoughts, a whirl of emerald robes descended upon you. Imelda’s presence engulfed you, her touch frantic as she checked you over, her expression a mixture of panic and anger. She turned your head, making you meet her gaze, which flickered with a blend of worry and exasperation. “Fuck’s sake, having the fucking audacity to ask me to stay home while you go out and risk your bloody neck – are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Mel,” you tried to reassure her. “It was supposed to be routine –”
“Oh, don’t even think of using those bloody excuses on me right now,” she barked. “Look at your face, for Merlin’s sake!”
Realising that trying to argue with her would get you nowhere at this point, you decided to relent. “You’re right, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you sighed. “I just didn’t want you to worry with everything else you already have on your mind…”
Imelda’s expression softened somewhat, a trace of panic subsiding. “Well, too late for that now,” she sighed, cupping your cheek. “Please don’t scare me like that ever again. I nearly lost it in front of Sallow when I heard.”
You allowed yourself a chuckle. “Your concern is touching.”
“Shut up.” She pecked your lips before turning her attention to Poppy, who had been attempting to fade into the background. “You were with her?”
“Uh, I was,” Poppy stammered, her face crimson as she braced for a reprimand. To your surprise, and hers, Imelda stepped forward and... embraced her.
“Thank you for getting her back safely,” the Slytherin said. “I’m glad you’re both all right.”
You didn’t meet Poppy's gaze as she shot you a baffled look over Imelda’s shoulder. Frankly, you weren’t sure how to feel. Perhaps a part of you experienced the slightest tinge of guilt, although you felt mostly relief. Honing in on that feeling, you allowed your head to droop backwards, closing your eyes and releasing a deep sigh.
The most striking aspect of that night’s events was how quickly they slipped from your thoughts.
While you couldn’t completely disregard what had happened, you found yourself questioning the actual significance of those moments. To be honest, you hadn’t intended to kiss Poppy, and it appeared from her reaction that she hadn’t either. Whatever emotions might have been stirred within you felt almost inconsequential. It was simpler to attribute the entire event to an adrenaline rush – after all, you had never regarded Poppy as anything more than a friend. A dear one, but a friend nonetheless. Or so you’d convinced yourself, although an undercurrent of doubt lingered, making you wonder whether you were trying just a bit too hard to convince yourself.
Regardless, Poppy never raised the issue again, and neither did you. In the days following the mission, there was some lingering awkwardness between you two, but soon your studies occupied your thoughts once more. Things went back to normal, and you genuinely believed it was behind you.
And for a time, it appeared to be – until Imelda proposed a ladies’ night involving the three of you.
“Bloody hell, I’m stuffed.” Imelda declared as she flopped onto the sofa in your Room, which you’d slightly redecorated to create a more lounge-like atmosphere for the occasion. “Reckon I’m going to have to schedule a few more hours to get rid of all these extra pounds.”
“You shouldn’t be so fussed about putting on a little weight,” you said. “I think you’d look adorable with a little belly roll.”
Your suggestion was pointedly met with Imelda flipping you off, drawing a chuckle from you as you dropped into an armchair. “Hey Poppy, back me up here. Don’t you think she’d look cute with a belly roll?”
“Oh, I think I’d really prefer not to comment,” the Hufflepuff replied, giving you a polite smile.
“Come on, you must have a type,” Imelda prodded. “Chubby or skinny?”
“Are we talking about Fwoopers or Diricawls?”
Imelda turned to you with a smirk. “Lassie’s got some cheek. I think we’ve been rubbing off on her!”
“She’s just been learning how to survive around you,” you chuckled, winking subtly at Poppy, who responded with a giggle. You were happy to see how comfortable she had grown to be around you and Imelda. She may not have liked to admit it, but she had come a long way since the shy, timid girl you’d met in Beasts class during your fifth year – and you sure as Merlin were proud to have been a part of her journey.
“Right, I think it’s about time we started the real party,” Imelda said, retrieving her wand from her pocket. She cast a few spells to summon shot glasses and a bottle of Firewhisky. As you reached for your glass, you noticed Poppy looking a bit uncertain out of the corner of your eye.
“You don’t have to drink any if you don’t want to,” you assured her, though she quickly shook her head. “I can’t be the only one left sober, can I?” she said, offering you a grateful smile.
“Atta girl.” Imelda chimed in, pouring her a drink. The three of you raised your glasses for a toast.
“To chubby girls and belly rolls!” you said.
Imelda snorted. “Oh, piss off. I’m not toasting to that,”
“How about friendship?” Poppy proposed. You exchanged a glance with your girlfriend, both of you shrugging in agreement. “Friendship works,” you concurred, raising your glass before downing the Firewhisky in one swift gulp. The liquid burned your throat, causing you to cough and tear up. You glanced at your companions, noticing that Imelda seemed to be handling it well, but Poppy’s elfin features had taken on a noticeable shade of crimson.
“Poppy – are you all right?” you asked, genuine concern washing over you. She gave you an odd look, and for a moment, you worried she was going to be sick. However, she then opened her mouth and unleashed the loudest belch you’d ever heard.
Locking eyes with Imelda, you both wore identical expressions of astonishment before erupting in laughter, while Poppy watched with an embarrassed smile.
“Merlin’s Beard, they must have heard that one all the way in Hogsmeade,” Imelda snickered after you had recovered from your bout of hysterical laughter. “I’d say that deserves another round. Bottoms up!”
You didn’t really keep track of the ensuing conversations – you seemed to recall one involving Poppy going off on a tangent about some obscure beast you’d never heard of and another involving you and Imelda having a heated discussion about made-up Quidditch players. You didn’t care either way; you were having a great time getting piss drunk and judging by their slurring and incoherent giggles, so were your friends. After collectively butchering the lyrics to the Hogwarts school song and reciting some filthy limericks, the three of you lay sprawled out in various, comfortable positions across the furniture, soaking in the warm embrace of your intoxicated spirits.
Breaking the tranquil silence, Imelda piped up first, her words slightly slurred: “You know what we should do now that we’re all pissed out of our minds?”
“Make embarrassing confessions we won’t have the slightest chance of remembering later?” you replied.
“Read my mind, girlie. But to make sure the two of you ain’t trying to cop out, I get to ask the questions.”
“Sure,” you shrugged indifferently. Give us your worst.”
“Right, let me think.” Imelda closed her eyes, going silent for a few minutes. Just as you were about to ask if she had fallen asleep, she opened them again and blurted out: “Cock or pussy?”
“Really? That’s the most original you can do?”
“Are you going to complain or answer the bloody question?”
“All right, all right,” you chuckled, taking a minute of your own to think. “Is it a big cock?”
“The biggest. Thick and veiny – the most hugabongulous cock you ever saw.”
You giggled. “Hugabongulous? Come on, you’re just making up words now.”
Imelda looked like she was about to give you another earful, so you quickly continued: “Well, pussy, obviously. But I don’t think I’d mind a big cock if the guy was cute.”
“Ugh.”
“What? You would?”
“Fucking right I would,” she slurred. “I’ll tell you, nothing beats the experience of tasting a girl falling apart on your tongue while you’re suffocating between her thighs. What about you, Pops?”
Poppy stirred on the other end of the sofa, her groggy eyes focusing. You expected her to sidestep the question, but surprisingly, she didn’t seem particularly shy about it. “Well… I suppose I would agree with you –”
“Ha!” Imelda cheered triumphantly. “That settles it.”
“How does that even count,” you protested. “She doesn’t even have any experience.”
“Oh, bull. I’m sure she has at least snogged someone before.”
She turned expectingly toward the Hufflepuff, being met with a suspicious silence.
“I… I can’t say that I have,” Poppy eventually admitted with a sigh.
Imelda seemed baffled. “Hold up. You’re telling me a pretty little thing like you has never even kissed someone?”
A small rational part of your tipsy mind registered a hint of alarm, recalling some foggy details from the night you rescued the unicorn, though you were still too immersed in your own hazy world to really care.
Poppy bit her lip. “I – I suppose I’ve never really given it much thought –”
“But you’d be open to it?” Imelda persisted.
“Well, yes, I suppose…”
You failed to notice the sidewards glance your girlfriend shot you. “So,” she asked, “would you kiss MC if you could?”
This jolted you out of your stupor. You snapped to attention, a blend of embarrassment and irritation rushing through you. “Come on, Mel, that isn’t funny.”
“It’s just a question,” Imelda retorted, starting to sound annoyed as well. “I just want to hear her answer.”
Looking back, perhaps you should have just gone along with the joke. The issue was, in that moment, your brain wasn’t processing it as a jest. Watching Poppy get cornered like that triggered a protective instinct deep inside you. Coupled with the lingering embarrassment you felt over having inadvertently kissed her and your alcohol-induced lack of restraint, it created quite an unpleasant cocktail of emotions.
“She doesn’t have to answer, because it’s a stupid question,” you snapped, straightening up in your chair. “Can we just take a break? I’m getting a headache –”
“Why are you being such a wimp about it?” Imelda taunted, her eyes flashing. “Too embarrassed to hear her admit she’d like to snog you?”
“Of course not, I just –”
“I would.”
You and Imelda both fell silent, realising neither of you had spoken. Your attention shifted to Poppy, who was now looking right at you with a peculiar spark of determination in her eyes. “I… would,” she repeated.
Your mind struggled to process what you were hearing. Part of you wanted to attribute it to the alcohol, but deep down, you sensed it was more than that. She was genuinely opening up about her feelings, admitting her desire to kiss you, confessing that her emotions extended beyond mere friendship. Did you feel the same way? Could you muster the courage to respond to her vulnerability?
A whirlwind of emotions swirled within you – anger, shock, disbelief, betrayal. It didn’t seem fair for her to drop this bombshell on you. Unable to contain your reaction, you directed your words at Imelda, “Happy now? You got her drunk enough to talk nonsense. I’m sure you’re really proud of yourself.”
“Don’t be an arse,” Imelda snapped back.
“I’m the arse? What, so we’re just going to pretend that this wasn’t all some convoluted ruse to get us hammered and take advantage of us? You really haven’t changed one bit, have you?”
Part of you recognized that you were only digging yourself into a deeper pit, yet your intoxication rendered you indifferent to the consequences. Your words were fueled by the alcohol, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.
Imelda’s gaze was cold, though that didn’t affect you as much as the pain in her eyes. “That’s precious,” she said, voice dripping with venom. “That’s really fucking precious. You know what, MC, fuck you. Just because you’re too much of a pussy to be honest about your feelings doesn’t give you the right to act like a cunt.”
“Oh, cut the crap,” you scoffed. “We both know it’s all about one thing only with you. And honestly, if you really thought this was the best way of getting us both into your bed, you’re even more dense than you look.”
You had unleashed those words before you could rein yourself in. Imelda stared at you, her eyes a mixture of hurt and anger, tears glistening. For a moment, it seemed like she might launch herself at you, but then she abruptly stood up, a bitter expression on her face, and spat on the floor.
“Go fuck yourself,” she said.
And with that, she stormed out, the door slamming shut behind her. The room felt instantly colder, the silence pressing down on you like a heavy weight. Your mind was a jumble of thoughts, frustration clawing at your chest. Fuck, why couldnt you think clearly?
A soft shuffling noise brought your attention back to the room. Your gaze lifted, meeting Poppy's tear-streaked cheeks. She avoided your eyes, mirroring Imelda’s exit, and walked out swiftly.
Fuck, you thought to yourself. Fuck.