shyamanuensis

[shyamanuensis]

study thoughts - m.r

♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── For once, Mattheo is silent – consumed by thought. A minute passes; then two. He sweeps his tongue over his bottom lip once; quill in his hand twirling lightly between his fingertips – a practiced, wasteless talent. He should be focusing on study. First thing in the morning he’s got an upcoming quiz on the medicinal properties of fungi, but right now, he had a more pressing dilemma at hand. Mattheo hated making decisions – his c'est la vie lifestyle causing a constant battle with them. Now though – he was torn. Torn between deciding whether he wants you vocal – the whole castle hearing what he’s capable of making you feel, or forcing you to be silent as you ride and grind against his thigh; bringing yourself to ecstasy. He could gag you – shove a few fingers into your mouth and press down firm against that pretty wet tongue of yours to make you choke on a few breaths; or the alternative is that he let everyone within a mile radius of his dormitory listen in on how much of a dirty little whore you are. Either way – he’s got decisions, decisions… ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

[shyamanuensis]

Remunerate - L.B.

Bsf!Lorenzo Berkshire x fem!reader

Minors dni!

Warnings: first time, oral f!reciving, manipulative undertones, dubcon (reader is intoxicated), brief allusion of puke like one line, unprotected p n v

Synopsis: Lorenzo Berkshire was probably one of the best people you could even call your best friend. He was sweet, kind, funny, and sacrificed so much time just to make you feel special. Honestly, you felt like really.

a/n: This oneshot actually started out as a Draco one but as I got further in I realized it was actually very Enzo, especially with the undertones and such that I used to portray him. Hope you all enjoy! (Adding here that to my new follows that followed me bc of "Kisemis" (or anyone who liked it and is seeing this) to please comment over on it if you want to be tagged for part 2!! Thank you so so much!

1st divider creds: @d-oie

Wc: ~1.7k

One of the first things you recognized about Lorenzo Berkshire is that he was utterly obsessed with always having the absolute best—shiny, new, and expensive. Wanting to be the first to have something, he used his connections to do just that.

He denied being spoiled, and that he would always get what he wanted one way or another. But you knew better, often teasing him over it, feigning annoyance when he'd buy you anything. Any dress, skirt, or shoe you'd show even the slightest bit of interest in while looking over the news edition of Witches Weekly.

But that's what friends are for, right? Holding back hair when you get sick after a party, helping you change into something more comfortable, only to excuse himself right after every time before returning to help lull you into a peaceful sleep. You never heard about him doing this with other girls.

He could've been with anyone else, like how all of his mates would end up with a new girl practically every time, tangling in bed sheets after a long night of drinking and dancing. And he used to be like them, till you two became close. But no, more than half the time he was with you, catering to you. All fleeting and platonic touches.

Until tonight, just drunk enough to be clingy you hold onto Enzo’s arm like a lifeline, blabbering on about how amazing he is. How you don't know why he puts up with you.

He chuckles, brushing it all off playfully, till you prompt a more explicit question. “I just don't get why you spend time taking care of me instead of going off with other girls.” You whine, looking up at him through your lashes. “You could be out and having fun,” You continue. “I don't need you to babysit me, Enzo.”

“I never said you needed to be babysat,” He hums, guiding you up to your dorm. “I just wanted to do you a favor. It would be rude of me to leave you alone and sick, love.”

“You're too kind for your own good, Enz,” You slur, letting him open the door and close it behind you as you make your way to your bed, stumbling before landing harshly on it. “I just feel bad. You give and give but don't get anything.”

“Well, you're allowed to give too, Princess. You know that, right?” He hums brushing your hair out of your face before kneeling and helping you take your heels off. You blush, shifting your weight some.

“Well… I mean yeah..” You reply quietly, recognizing him going through the usual motions of the night. You comply, helping him with stripping you. “I just..” Your voice trails, spotting the bulge in his trousers for the first time after one of the escapades. After a few moments it clicks, Would he actually go through all of this just to sleep with you?

You shake your head, clearing it of that thought. Enzo wouldn't do that. He's kind, a total sweetheart. He'd do anything for you, right?

He returns from your dresser, having grabbed a nightgown which he helped slip over your head. You can't help but eye his groin again, yep.. definitely hard.

Lorenzo grinned, cocky as ever. “My eyes are up here, sweetheart.” He taunts, looking down at you and taking your chin to lift your gaze. Your mind feels fuzzy, as if he’s looking at you in a whole new light.

“Duh.. I know that.” You murmur, trying to think of how to word it. “But I was just thinking about how you said I can give too.. and uhm… I think I want to.” You continue, averting his gaze slightly.

He chuckles, causing you to chuckle in turn. “Oh darling, you don't have to. I don't want you to regret it, after all you haven't done anything like this before from what I know.” He starts, voice honeyed, eyes wide and sweet.

“But you do all of this for me when you could just ignore it. I'd feel bad if I knowingly left you like that.” You interrupt, pouting slightly. “And after all… I wouldn't mind you being my first.”

“Sweet girl, you can't be serious.” He tsks, shaking his head and taking a step back and observing you.

“I am serious, Enz. Other girls talk about you all the time, and your my best friend. I just.. want to know what I'm missing. That's all.” You argue, looking up at him still. “Please?” You press, softly. “I'm not dumb, I know what sex is. And if I'm going to have it I want it to be with someone I trust.”

He hums, a huff of amusement escaping him. “Only if you're sure.” He mumbles, dropping your chin, stripping himself of his shirt. You nod, eyes roaming over his abs.

It's not like you haven't seen them before. But it felt different with the current undertones, the dark room and the wetness growing between your thighs. “Go and rest up by the headboard, love,” He instructs, you nod gently and comply.

It feels unfair that he's practically naked, save his boxers, and you're covered in a nightgown. But that doesn't last long.

Enzo starts at the foot of the bed, peppering kisses up your ankle slowly working his way to your knee and onwards. He nips occasionally, making you whine and jolt. He smirks against your skin, continuing and stopping just short of where you need him most. Your hips buck slightly and he can't help but chuckle some.

“Are you absolutely sure about this, love?” He asks again. You wonder if he's teasing, or is actually wondering, but you nod feeling far too needy to speak.

You feel him pulling your panties off, tossing them off to the side somewhere, your thighs ending up on either side of his shoulders. You tense, anxiety hitting you before he gives your needy clit a soft peck.

He starts small and delicate, gently alternating between licking stripes down your pussy and sucking on your clit. Your hands digging into his hair and pulling at his scalp as you writhe in his grip, his hands firmly grasping your waist in order to hold you still. “So sweet.” He hums against your core, the vibrations only driving you crazy.

Unexpectedly you feel him withdrawal, a whimper turning into a gasp when he slips a finger into you, slowly pumping it before giving your clit some attention.

Moaning softly you can't help but buck your hips slightly, feeling pressure grow in your lower stomach. “Mm, Enzo- I'm gonna…” You whine, flushed. “ ‘m so close.”

He gently adds another finger, bringing you even closer, making you an utter mess. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

Your back arches slightly, trying to hold on for a bit longer only to crash down, pleasure blinding you as your body goes slack.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you, making you clench around the loss, shivering. Propping yourself up on your elbows you look down at him, about to clean off his fingers in his mouth before raising a brow and bringing them to your own lips. You hesitate before opening your mouth just enough for him to fit his fingers, and he does.

You swirl your tongue, tasting yourself. “Such a filthy girl… who would've thought it just took some drinking and trust to turn you into this.” Enzo murmurs.

He presses down on your tongue, fingers making you gag before he withdraws them. “Wish that was my cock in your mouth instead,” He growls, pulling himself up to be more even with your face, slipping his boxers off in the process.

Flushed you try to think of a response, squirming under his touch. Any words you wanted to say were cut off by him. “So responsive…” he purrs, burying his face into your neck, softly biting and sucking in order to mark you up.

He teases you with his tip, running it between your folds and drawing a high pitched moan from you. Bucking your hips, looking up at him. “Enz, please… I want- I need-.” You grumble pathetically, whining.

“Fucked out already and I hardly did anything.” He taunts, clicking his tongue and shaking his head before slowly entering you, watching your expression slowly shift as you take him.

Bottoming out he can't help but watch you, face screwed up as you adjust. “Look at me, love.” He whispers, pecking your forehead before slowly moving in and out of you.

“Enzo, mh- feel so full.” You moan, adjusting to the stretch still. “Fuck, please.” You mutter incoherently, watching your best friends face as he fucks you, clearly holding back. “More.”

He can't help but pick up the pace at that, the sound of moans and skin slapping echoing throughout the empty room. His head dips down, grunting into your ear as your hands wrap up around his back and dig into his skin.

“S’tight squeezing around me,” Lorenzo grunts into your ear, trying a new angle and helping your legs to wrap around his waist to hit you even deeper. “so good for me.”

One of his hands playing with you tit over your nightgown, only deepening your pleasure. “Wanna feel you come ‘round my cock.” He pants, his free hand moving down to swirl around your clit, causing your back to arch as you scratch him up even more. Heat coiled in your stomach as you give your best attempt to meet his thrusts.

Balancing on the edge you dig into his shoulder blades, feeling his thrusts become more sloppy as he twitches inside of you.

It's enough to send you barreling off the edge, pleasure crashing over you like a wave, feeling him fuck you through your high before the spassming of your walls sends him over his own edge. His cum spurting deep inside of you as he collapses on top of you, both sweaty and panting.

Eventually he pulls out of you, rolling the both of you over so you can rest your head on his chest.

If not for that you’d’ve missed the smug look on his face. A smirk of someone that looks as if they've just won the Quidditch World Cup. You're too drunk and fucked out to care, hearing him murmur what you assume to be a charm to clean the pair of you up before subcomming to sleep.

[shyamanuensis]

No matter how much you dislike your own writing, I promise you it’s better than AI

[shyamanuensis]

Modern AU Tom Riddle

(Send those fic recs my way please, I’m dying for more Tom Riddle. Any pairing!)

Ref pic from Pinterest, done on Procreate which is a first for me (I spent 3 days finding a brush I liked… one called Blueberry lol)

You can see the full struggle/process below:

[shyamanuensis]

arguments - t.r

Arguments with Tom aren’t uncommon. In fact; they’re almost a daily occurrence. The both of you rather stubborn. Head strong. Obstinate. Not ever wanting to back down – because that would be proof of weakness – a word not in your vocabularies. There’s a sick pleasure you both take in riling each other up. Eyes locked, lips pulling into subtle smirks whenever one takes a jab at the other. Satisfaction? No, neither of you do it for satisfaction; this little cat and mouse game of ‘who can outdo the other’ has its own advantages. For Tom mainly. Which well – let’s be honest, it isn’t fair; but you’re not one to really complain about it. When the last student has been dismissed from class – when the corridors are empty; that’s when he strikes. You should be meeting up with your friends, with your boyfriend, to study but no… Tom has you bent over the closest desk the two of you can manage to find. Wrists pinned painfully low against your back. Skirt lifted; panties slid to the side – he fucks you senseless; no rhyme, no reason, no restraint. You go from talking back to being a wet nonverbal whimpering mess whos knees go weak; eyes roll – the perfect little fuck doll. “Good girl.” “You take it so well.” “You like that huh?” “Just wait until I’m done with you.” Each phrase earns little more than a choked mewl. You try your hardest to catch your breath; knowing that once he’s done with your cunt, that pretty cock of his will be ramming down the back of your throat and you begin to salivate at the idea. Cheeks blushing a harsh pink; same colour as your ass when he spanks you. Yeah – Tom will let you argue with him any day – every fucking day. only because he knows he can use it to his advantage. ((MDNI))

[shyamanuensis]

────۶ৎ unholy

forgive me, father, for i have sinned... and i intend to sin again.

warnings: smut, sacrilege, corruption kink, choking, dirty talk, degradation, blasphemy, priest kink, manipulation.

𓏲 ࣪₊ ❥ 𓂃 more

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

his cock is already out when he grabs you, thick and leaking, pressing against the soaked heat of your cunt like he was born to ruin you. his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you flush against him, and there’s no pretense of restraint now—just filthy, desperate need.

'you came here for this, didn’t you?' his voice is a low rasp, dark with hunger. 'walked into my house of god with no fucking panties, dripping and ready to be fucked by your priest.'

you whimper as he drags the head of his cock through your folds, smearing your slick over the tip, teasing, taunting. your thighs tremble, breath shuddering, and he laughs—low and cruel, like he enjoys watching you fall apart before he’s even given you what you need.

'needy little thing,' he murmurs, and then he thrusts, slow and deep, splitting you open inch by inch until the air is punched from your lungs. 'taking me so well. like you were fucking made for this.'

he doesn’t move for a moment, just stays there, buried to the hilt, letting you feel every inch stretching you out. his fingers find your throat, pressing just enough to make your pulse hammer beneath his touch.

'tell me,' he breathes, lips ghosting over yours. 'tell me how much you love being fucked in a church like a filthy little whore.'

and you do—you tell him in gasping, broken syllables, your body betraying you, clenching tight around him like it wants to keep him there forever. his pace picks up, sharp, relentless, the wet slap of skin-on-skin filling the sacred space, drowning out whatever remnants of holiness might still linger.

'fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,' he groans, teeth catching your jaw, your throat, marking you as his. 'gonna cum for me? gonna make a mess all over my cock like a good little sinner?'

and when you do—when you shatter around him, body trembling, pleasure slamming into you like a benediction—he follows, spilling deep inside you with a groan, his grip bruising, his breath ragged.

his forehead presses against yours, both of you breathless, wrecked, the weight of sin thick in the air.

then he smirks, fingers swiping through the mess between your thighs before bringing them to your lips. 'clean yourself up, little lamb. can’t have the congregation knowing what a filthy thing you are, can we?'

but you just smile, lips parting as you suck his fingers clean.

'not a fucking chance, father.'

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

[shyamanuensis]

Call me and I’ll come - S.S.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x you

You should have known better by now.

Should’ve known that getting your feelings hurt was just part of the deal when it came to Sebastian Sallow.

Because he never promised you anything, did he? He never said he was yours, never whispered I love you when his hands were all over you, hot against your skin, when he fucked you like he actually meant it.

Sebastian Sallow was not a good person.

That was fine, though, because neither were you.

Whatever this was between you—this thing—that was built on the kind of pleasure that left bruises and bite marks and bad decisions. It was never meant to be sweet. Never meant to be kind.

And yet, there he was. Playing at chivalry, walking Poppy Sweeting back to her dorm like she was something to be protected. Like she hadn’t spent the past seven years getting under your skin, all sunshine smiles and Holier Than Thou bullshit.

You weren’t sure why you even followed them. Maybe it was the way Poppy's laugh rang through the corridor, soft and sweet, like she wasn’t the most insufferable person on the planet. Maybe it was the way Sebastian looked at her—really looked at her—as if she were saying something worth listening to. The thought made your stomach churn. You had him first. Had him beneath you, above you, inside you. You should’ve been the only thing occupying that wicked little mind of his.

But no. He was escorting her back to her fucking Hufflepuff common room like some noble gentleman. Heart-of-gold-ass-bitch. God, you hated her.

So you had a little fun.

Just a little.

Legilimency was easy when your target was oblivious. You slipped into her mind without so much as a whisper, poking at her thoughts, nudging her attention away from whatever painfully dull story she was telling him. Watching her stumble through sentences, lose her train of thought, look almost dizzy with confusion. Sebastian’s brows furrowed as she trailed off mid-sentence, blinking rapidly.

“You alright?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. That made your teeth grind. So concerned for little Miss Perfect.

Poppy nodded quickly, but she was uneasy now. You could feel her nerves, the confusion settling deep. You kept at it—poking, prying, twisting little intrusive thoughts through the cracks of her consciousness.

Poppy winced, pressing a hand to her temple. “I… I don’t know. I just feel a little—”

You rolled your eyes. Pathetic. You got bored of that real quick. Whispering under your breath you sent a nauseating little hex and she was doubled over, face paling, gagging.

Sebastian stepped back, startled. “Poppy?”

“Uh, I think—I think I need to go lie down,” she groaned, turning away hastily.

You strolled up behind Sebastian just as Poppy stumbled off, pouting mockingly. "Aw, hope she feels better."

You barely kept the smirk off your face as Poppy disappeared into her common room, her face pale as she clutched her stomach. Whatever. She’d be fine. Maybe next time, she’d learn not to bat her pretty little lashes at your Sebastian.

Not that he was yours.

Sebastian turned to you the moment she disappeared, a slow, disbelieving shake of his head. His lips twitched in amusement, but his eyes were anything but.

"Yeah, okay, princess, we’re really gonna pretend?"

You folded your arms, feigning innocence. "Not sure what you mean, Sallow."

"Cut the shit," he scoffed, stepping closer, the scent of fresh pine, something unmistakably him filling the space between you. "The second she started looking like she might kneel over, I knew you were up to something. And then—what? you just coincidentally show up the moment she leaves? Please."

You rolled your eyes. "Please," you mimicked, voice dripping with mockery. "What, am I not allowed to take a little evening stroll?"

Sebastian let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Right. Because you, of all people, just love late-night walks around the Hufflepuff dorms. Admit it, you’re jealous."

That word. Jealous. You bristled at it, anger flashing hot through your veins.

"Of what, exactly?" You sneered. "Little Miss I-Save-Orphaned-Dragons? Please. You think I’m worried about you wasting your time with a boring little goody-two-shoes like her?"

His jaw tensed, and fuck, you loved getting under his skin.

"You’re so full of shit," he muttered, voice dropping an octave. "What was it? You didn’t like seeing me with her? Didn’t like the thought of me walking her back? Maybe—" he took another step closer, and you refused to move back, even as your breath caught in your throat— "maybe you didn’t like knowing she actually enjoys my company without having to spread her legs first."

The words hit like a slap. You felt them crack through your ribs, shatter through your lungs. But you weren’t about to let him see it.

"Wow," you let out a sharp laugh, masking the ache blooming in your chest. "That’s rich, coming from the guy who can’t seem to keep his hands off me."

Sebastian tilted his head, brown eyes dark and unreadable. "Yeah?" he mused, his tone almost taunting. "Maybe I should try. Since it’s not like you’re anything special."

You sucked in a sharp breath.

"Fuck you," you spat.

Sebastian smirked, slow and lazy, his words venomous. "You already did. And if I recall, you come crawling back every single time."

Your vision blurred red. Your nails dug into your palms, the sting barely grounding you. You wanted to hex him. Wanted to make him hurt the way his words made your chest feel like it was caving in.

But instead, you took a step back.

"Go fuck yourself, Sallow."

And then you turned on your heel walking away, fists clenched, heart pounding, body burning with fury and something you weren’t ready to name. Jealousy.

Behind you, Sebastian let out a sharp exhale.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, voice laced with something that almost sounded like regret.

You were drunk when you called him.

Drunk and pissed off and reckless.

You’d heard about it from Imelda—how Sebastian had actually taken Poppy on a date, how he’d sat with her at The Three Broomsticks, bought her a drink, showed her a good time. How they sat together at dinner.

You refused to look at him for the rest of the day. You ignored him in class, in the halls, in the library. You ignored him even when he tried to get your attention, knocking his knee against yours under the desk, whispering your name when the professor wasn’t looking. You ignored him all the way up until tonight.

Right up until the moment you floo-called him from your room.

The moment he picked up, his voice came through the flames, exasperated but familiar. “What do you want?”

“Come over.” You softly demanded.

He sighed. “I’m busy.”

You leaned in, let your voice drop lower, silkier. “Didn’t ask if you were busy, Sallow. I said come over.”

A pause. He wasn’t even pretending to think about it—the sound of him moving, the clink of his belt as he got dressed . “Give me ten.”

You grinned.

Of course he’d come. He always did.

It didn’t matter how much he flirted with Poppy, how much he tried to pretend there was something there. It didn’t matter if she was sweet and kind and everything you weren’t.

Because at the end of the day, when you called—he answered.

Always.

Not even a minute later, there he was, disheveled, eyes swirling with something that looked like relief. His shirt was wrinkled, his tie loosened like he had rushed here.

You smirked. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “You’re such a fucking piece of work, you know that?”

You didn't bother responding as his dark eyes bore into yours. Tilting your head slightly, biting your lip before yanking him inside, fingers wrapped around this tie as the door slammed shut behind him.

Yeah. Poppy Sweeting didn't stand a fucking chance.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: raw, next question.

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[shyamanuensis]

Damn perfection! 💚💚💚

oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ɢʀʏꜰꜰɪɴᴅᴏʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

₊˚. 🂼 Losing Game.

Short Summary: being drunk sometimes means making reckless decisions, though agreeing on a bet with Tom Riddle might just top the list.

Warnings: 18+ only! rough oral m!receiving, slight dub con ig, Tom Riddle is a little bitch, no aftercare

A/N: first fic in ten days! finished my thesis and handed it in. SHDFJSKKF

also, this fic is based on this request! tysm for requesting! <3

wordcount: 2,5k

As soon as you saw the exam papers, you knew. 

You’d lose the bet.

A bet that was your idea in the first place.

—

Tom and you have been fierce rivals ever since you started Hogwarts. Always trying to outdo one another, striving for perfection on every single exam and paper you had to hand in.

It’s the day before your Potions exam. You shouldn’t be doing this—getting ready for the party in Slytherin’s common room when you know a late-night study session would be the only way to save you from embarrassment the next day.

Yet, you couldn’t miss out on a fun night with your friends, the ones that keep telling you to stop worrying about your grades so much, to finally take a day off studying.

If they only knew.

After you finish, you take a look in the mirror—neat makeup, hair perfectly styled, tall black heels, burgundy dress, short, maybe too short—you don’t care. Tonight is about having fun and hopefully forgetting about your studies for a few hours.

Flickering green lights and the heavy beat of the music wrap around you as you enter the room, immediately engulfing you in the party’s atmosphere, the smell of alcohol and spilled drinks heavy in the air. Your eyes dart around the place in an attempt to find your friends, but before you get the chance to do so, you spot another familiar face. Familiar in an unpleasant way.

He’s casually leaning against the wall, one hand tucked in his pocket while the other lifts his drink—firewhisky, you assume—to his lips. And he sees you too—a smug grin playing on his lips as his eyes shamelessly drop lower, wandering over your exposed skin before he returns them to your now flushed face.

Tom Riddle—head boy, former prefect, know-it-all. House rivals. He’s always tried to get under your skin with anything he could think of. If he outscored you by more than five points, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Merlin, how you despised him.

You silently curse him under your breath, shaking your head as you continue making your way through the crowd. Your skin tingles with the memory of his lingering gaze, already regretting your choice to put on your shortest dress.

As the night goes on, you almost forget about him, your friends keeping you busy with conversations and games. It’s not until after midnight that you see him again—coincidentally just after your friends left your side to get new drinks.

You don’t even realise it’s him until he’s standing in front of you, until you feel his eyes on your skin yet again. You look up at him, meeting his amused expression.

“Shouldn’t you be studying?” He asks, lifting an eyebrow as he gently sways his drink in his hand.

“Unlike you, I have a life, Riddle. I don’t bury myself in books all day.”

“Judging by your grades, that’s what you should be doing. Instead of…” he pauses, eyes roaming over your cleavage to your thighs and back up. “Going to a party in that dress.”

A scoff leaves your lips. That idiot.

“Yeah? Seems like you can’t get enough of it, hm?”

His eyes darken at your words, and merely the fact that he doesn’t have a smug comeback ready tells you you’ve hit a nerve. You are right. He was checking you out.

A satisfied grin forms on your lips as he turns around to leave without saying another word. However, overconfident with the buzz of alcohol rushing through your veins, an idea comes to your mind.

“Riddle,” you call out, voice barely audible above the loud music, and he stops in his tracks. “I bet I will outscore you tomorrow.”

The usual arrogant smirk returns, decorating his face as he retraces his steps, stopping right in front of where you are sitting on the couch, hands tucked in the pockets of his trousers.

“The alcohol is clearly getting to your head if you think you could beat me in any Potions exam.”

You scoff, but deep down you know he isn’t wrong. Potions isn’t your best subject by any means, while Tom seemingly had every potion perfected before you even discussed it in class. Maybe that was exactly what excited you in that moment.

“You don’t have to be afraid, Riddle. Even your ego can take a loss, I am sure of it.”

He nods then. “Fine. Although I expect an adequate prize. What that will be, I choose.”

“That won’t be necessary.” You shoot him a smile, and you don’t catch the last part of what he’s said until it’s too late.

“Good luck. You’ll need it.” He adds, before disappearing into the crowd, and you don’t see him again that night.

What that will be, I choose. His words keep repeating in your head when you are finally in bed, trying your hardest to fall asleep. Slowly sobering up, you can’t believe what you have done. You would never be able to even come close to him tomorrow—not with last bits of alcohol in your system, not with two hours of sleep, surely not with how much you have studied.

Fuck.

And of course, the inevitable happens. The exam is way too difficult, your mind still clouded, ears ringing as a result of your loud surroundings last night. You can’t concentrate no matter how hard you try, and finally decide to hand in early, before anyone else. 

You take one last look around the classroom before you leave, and immediately, your eyes lock with his. 

Tom has been watching your struggle with pleasure, knowing exactly what it meant—what he’d choose as his prize. From the second you initiated the bet, it’s been as clear as daylight what he’d want. .

A week later, and as expected, he has outscored you. In fact, he received the best grade possible on his exam. And you—you failed. Failed. You had never failed an exam before.

So, you have been waiting. Waiting for him to come to you and tell you what he’d want. But the moment hasn’t come—not even days later. 

The following weekend you find yourself at another party. You have expected him to talk to you there, preparing yourself with all sorts of drinks. Whatever he wants from you—and you fully expect it to be something humiliating—will be easier to endure with the courage you gain when you are slightly tipsy.

He’s there, you have seen him, but it doesn’t happen. He gives you that same arrogant smirk each time you see him, yet he never seeks a conversation. He might have forgotten. You hope he has forgotten.

The next day, after your final lesson of the day, you pack your belongings and leave the classroom. The corridors are empty at this hour as you make your way to the Gryffindor dormitories. You sigh as you turn the corner leading you out of the dungeons, ready to head to bed early after an exhausting day.

However, that plan shatters as a pair of strong arms shove you into an empty classroom, hand clamping over your mouth, muffling your attempts to scream.

The familiar scent of potion ingredients and old wood floods your senses as the door shuts behind you, quickly locked with a spell. And then, you finally see who has dragged you in here.

“Riddle, what the hell?” You whisper-yell, looking around you, scared someone has seen or heard you.

“If I remember correctly, you owe me.” He retorts smugly, not yet facing you, instead casting a silencing spell on the room. “And I am here to collect my prize.”

You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against a bookshelf behind you. “What do you want?

Tom turns around then, looking at you for a second before he speaks.

“You. On your knees for me.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You wish he was joking, but the tone of his voice tells you differently. He’s a hundred percent serious about this.

“There is no way I am doing that.”

“Oh but you will. You lost, I get my prize. It’s only fair.”

A sharp exhale leaves your lips, rolling your eyes. “Could have done this when I was drunk. Wouldn’t have been as humiliating.”

“I don’t take advantage of drunk girls. Also,” a grin tugs at the corner of his lips as he guides you towards the wall, forcing you on your knees so that you are facing him. “Makes me enjoy it more.”

You shake your head slightly, looking up at him. “You are sick, I hope you are aware.”

“Get to work,” he orders, disregarding what you just said. He takes a step closer, fingertips brushing over your cheek, thumb softly tracing along your lips. The strain on the fabric of his trousers is evident as your shaky hands make work of his belt, carelessly dropping the leather on the floor with a low thud. He doesn’t bother stepping out of his clothes, leaving them to pool around his ankles.

You swallow as you take in his size, hesitantly reaching out. With your thumb, you softly swipe over his already with precum glistenting tip, looking up at him through your lashes. Your hand wraps around his length before you give him a few soft strokes, earning a low groan of approval from the brunette.

His patience snaps when you trace along a prominent vein on the underside of his cock, forcefully tilting your head back as his fingers tangle in your hair, having you meet his gaze.

“Can’t take a little bit of teasing, Riddle? That desperate for me?” You say smugly, eyes never leaving his as your grip around him tightens, speeding up.

“Thought I’d go easy on you, but turns out you don’t want me to.” He hisses, guiding your head towards him. Your lips wrap around him then, tongue swirling over his sensitive tip before you take him as deep as you can, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as he hits the back of your throat.

It’s not long before his grip on your hair tightens, stilling your movements before he thrusts himself inside of you, deeper than you had taken him. You obey, laying your tongue flat in your mouth as his length slips further, holding you there until you gag around him.

Focusing on breathing through your nose, you relax your muscles, making space for all of him, his eyes shutting in pleasure each time your throat constricts, squeezing him even tighter.

“Look at you,” he rasps, a ragged breath leaving his lips as his dark eyes now stare down at you again, watching his cock disappear in your mouth with every snap of his hips. “So eager to please me. Knew you were nothing but a pathetic slut behind that facade you try to put up. Smart— fuck—  always trying to impress— but in reality, this is the only thing you are actually good at, hm?”

With his hands’ tight grip on your hair, holding you in place as he uses your mouth, you find yourself unable to give a proper response other than a muffled sound of agreement—something he doesn’t seem to be quite satisfied with.

You gasp, taking in a deep breath as Tom yanks your head back, pulling you off his length, now coated in your spit. A string of saliva connects his tip to your swollen, reddened lips, blinking away your tears.

“Answer me.”

“Fuck— yes, Riddle.”

He shakes his head slightly, tilting your head even further back so you are met with his strict gaze. “What’s my name?”

“Tom,” you whisper, “yes, Tom.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. “Remember it.”

Only a second later he is back inside of your warm mouth, holding onto your hair as leverage as he buries himself to the hilt, groaning as he feels you struggle for air, your hands holding onto his thighs for support.

You shouldn’t like this, shouldn’t like how he is using you to get off, and yet, his soft gasps and groans as he gets closer to his release have you clenching your thighs together, desperately trying to ease the ache in your lower stomach.

“Hate to admit you were right. Can’t fucking get enough of you.” He grunts as you feel him twitch inside of you, spluttering around his cock as his thrusts grow harsher, tears running down your cheek as you try your best to take what he is giving you.

“Fuck— Show me—“ Tom breathes, hips stuttering, “show me whose good girl you are and swallow for me.” He barely gets the words out before he stills inside of you, the taste of his release flooding your senses as he empties himself inside of you—deep enough that swallowing is in fact the only option.

Still, he keeps your head pressed against his lower abdomen until he feels you swallow around him, only then pulling out of you.

Tom lets go of your hair then, and you sink against the cold brick wall behind you, utterly spent, jaw sore. You watch him getting dressed, mind still hazy when he walks towards you, looking like nothing happened—on the contrary to you.

“Look even prettier when you cry for me,” he remarks, taking in your state, wiping your tear-soaked cheeks with the back of his hand before he uses a spell to clean your chin and blouse.

And you let him do it, too tired and worn out to complain.

“I guess I have finally found a way to silence that bratty mouth of yours,” he mumbles when he is done, gently wiping a strand of hair from your face.

You look up at him then, hoarsely whispering a soft “Fuck you, Riddle.”

He offers you no other reply than his signature grin whenever he gets something he wants, his eyes fixated on you while he adjusts his robes.

“Tutoring for Potions every Thursday at 7 pm in the library. Don’t be late.” He says, exiting the classroom before you even get the chance to process his words.

You run out of curses to use for him by the time you reach your dorm, exhaustedly collapsing onto your bed. You tell yourself that no, you wouldn’t go because who does he think he is—yet it’s an offer you can’t decline.

So, every Thursday from then on, you find yourself studying for Potions under his guidance. It’s tough at first, but after just a few shared lessons, you realise he might not be that bad after all.

And soon enough, the next bet is made.

—

“If I outscore you tomorrow, I get to fuck you—properly.”

“You are delusional, Riddle.”

Naturally, you lose the bet.

The only difference: This time, you lose on purpose.

[shyamanuensis]

hiii! i know i asked a while ago but any sebastian or ominis stuff you're working on? i really like the way you write both of them

As per my last ask, I'm not - I've decided to step away from HL for a short while just to reset. However, here are two little drabbles that I had for Sebastian I'm happy to share. They might become more in the future, they might not.

“…Sebastian…”

His name falls off your lips sweeter than the sound of an angel’s prayer as you struggle to keep your breathing controlled. The library is quiet. Almost too quiet for what the two of you are getting up to; but a shared look of desire and vulnerability gazing form your eyes into his own – whiskey coloured, stained with sins; has you now in a rather compromising position. You should be studying. Should – being the key word. Instead, you’ve got your best friends breath mingling with your own as he sits beside you attempting to work on a paper for Herbology. His hand palming at his trousers as your fingers eagerly hunt beneath the hem of your skirt to find your clit and pleasure yourself. It’s technically not cheating if you’re both not touching one another. Or at least, this is what Sebastian has convinced you.

“Yeah – just like that baby girl. A little faster.”

**********

“Sebastian, please – I need to finish studying and then I need to get some sleep. We’ve got exams first thing tomorrow morning and---“, he cuts me off with a feverish kiss that I’m not expecting; one that makes me drop my quill, grab at the edge of my desk. His got a hand tenderly cupping my face, the other wrapped firmly around my throat; not to choke, but to keep still as he finishes running his swollen lips with a sweep across my own.

“Fine”, he grumbles; I can hear the dissatisfaction creeping up from deep down his chest. “Study. Sleep. But just know, my tongue is going to be your alarm clock in the morning.”

[shyamanuensis]

The secret wish is to write a fanfic that someone loves so much they make fan art of it, or to create a drawing that someone creates an entire fic based off of it.

[shyamanuensis]

friends - d.m

♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── Draco’s touch is that oh so perfect blend of both tender and considerate which you’ve been craving for god knows how long as his hands caress your hips; fingertips eagerly tracing the dips, the scars, the stretchmarks all etched so daintily across the softness of your skin. His breath is warm, inviting, alluring all at once – he mutters compliments into the crook if your neck that you weren’t ever expecting to hear. ‘Just perfect. So pretty. All mine.’ With a smirk and behind those luminous light grey eyes he holds you close; observing you with both a grace and complexity in his gaze as he drinks up every single inch you’ve got on offer laying beneath him. Every insecurity. Every self-doubt. Every uncertainty he wishes you’d stop over thinking and torturing yourself about. He had caught you crying earlier in the prefect’s bathroom – a date gone wrong you’d tried to explain. You'd been stood up, lied to, sold a dream that would never have happened, and you were stupid to believe by a boy you considered out of your league. Draco was cautious in the way he swiped tears off your cheeks which had trickled from your eyes. He was cautious in the way he reassured you that you shouldn’t cry. He was cautious in his suggestion of helping you get over tonight. Tonight – tonight had shifted from self-loathing to approbation. You weren’t meant to kiss him; nor he kiss you, but in the heat of the moment; in an attempt to get your brain to stop over thinking – he’d done just so. And you… you were cloud nine before you even knew it, melting right back into him. The kisses painted to the corner of your mouth, across your jaw, down your neck, over your collarbone. Each layer the two of you wore stripped off and tossed away without a single care or hesitation for what you were both getting yourself into. You were both no strangers to intimacy, but for the first time, each other’s friendly touch make you feel like you were exactly where you belonged. He could feel your body shake, tremble, quiver with the overflow of emotions sweeping through you but knew better than to question, better than to push, better than to ponder. Your response, moans and whimpers all that were required as consent from you. Friends? Mhmm, the two of you would always be friends – but right now; you were shifting towards being lovers instead. ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

you can read tom, mattheo and lorenzo here. and yeah; sorry, not sorry for draco being so soft and sweet and cute xo

[shyamanuensis]

Cheers to @eggzeroni @newdreamlove95 & @wildflowerlinds-blog for the tag!!!

I'm sure you can guess which is which! 💚

Tagging: @eva-fitzgerald @annarielmidori @berrysemifreddo and of course anyone else who wants to do this because I am terrible at tagging people xx

me v. my OC

picrew link

Bagel v. Ellie

not tagging anyone, but whoever wants to do this too please rb because I'd like to see 💚

[shyamanuensis]

Delivering the goods girl!!

[shyamanuensis]

pairing: slytherin!group x fem!nott!reader, enzo berkshire x fem!nott!reader

summary: mattheo’s “protective charm” locks everyone out of their rooms, forcing them to spend the night in the common room. no wands, no teachers, and strange noises that send blaise and enzo into full panic mode. as paranoia grows, they’re left wondering if they’re really safe—or if something darker is lurking in the shadows.

warnings: cursing, a very bad scary story, haunted common room, slow burnnnn

note: finally episode two is here!! super excited to share this. enjoy these 4k words of my yapping lol!

“this is the worst day ever, seriously” blaise zabini said as he crossed his arms and let himself fall onto one of the big dark couches in the slytherin common room.

“come on, it’s not so bad” mattheo shrugged, trying to hide his smile.

“no, actually, he’s right” you gestured between your friends, all obviously annoyed, a part from (you guessed it) mattheo. “this is the worst day ever”

“some friends you are” mattheo mumbled under his breath, turning away and huffing about the situation.

“well, it’s your own fault” theo shrugged unbothered. “you had to come up with that stupid charm”

“excuse you?” mattheo bluffed, holding his heart like theo had hurt him deeply. “i was just trying to help”

“emphasis on trying” draco muttered, sorting through a chest of blankets which was standing against one wall of the common room. “that’ll do”

“i could conjure up a few sleeping bags or beds” mattheo suggested, raising his wand.

“no!” the slytherin screamed in unison and pansy ripped the wand from mattheo’s hand, before he was able to react.

“hey!” mattheo complained, but everyone just ignored him. “i was trying to do something nice for my friends. not a reason to be bitches about it.”

“say the word ‘bitch’ one more time and—“

before blaise could fulfill his threat, enzo came back into the room, just barely breathing.

“snape is already in his chambers— or whatever you call that”

“sleeping quarters?” you suggested and enzo pointed a finger at you, thankful for the help.

“well, that means we can’t do anything until tomorrow” draco concluded the obvious.

“shit” pansy muttered and all of you send similar hateful glances in mattheo’s direction.

“how are we going to explain it to him anyway?” you asked, while you helped your brother to unfold the couch to a bed. “hello professor snape, we are idiots and locked ourselves out of our rooms, could you help us get back in please?”

“no” blaise shook his head. “we’re going to say that mattheo is an idiot, he looked us out of our rooms and now he needs professor snape’s help to get back in.”

"again, i'd like to point out that the intention was to help you" mattheo declared dramatically. "but whatever, just sell me out like that i guess."

"great"

"works for me"

"sounds good"

your voices chorused through the room and mattheo pouted offended.

"okay, what way are we sleeping?" enzo asked the group.

you shrugged, not really caring where you would need to sleep.

"well" draco said, looking around the room. "four of us can sleep on the two couches. one can sleep in the armchair, it's long enough when we drag out the foot rest and i guess to of us have to sleep on the floor."

"i'd say the girls get one of the sofas" theo suggested, while packing up a folded blanket and handing it to you, before nodding to the couch behind your back.

"normally, i’d call out the whole 'superior male savior complex' thing," pansy smirked, draping herself over the couch with a dramatic sigh. "but tonight? i’ll allow it. anything’s better than the floor."

"i agree" you grinned, following her lead.

"how generous of you," blaise rolled his eyes. "well, one of us gonna volunteer for the floor?"

all eyes darted to mattheo, who was at fault for the entire thing anyway, since he had decided to highten the security on his friends' and especially the girls' dorm room doors, enchanting them with some weird spell, that should've just simply made sure that no unauthorised people could enter the room, but now not even the people who were supposed to could.

"yeah, yeah" mattheo muttered, stuffing the floor with a blanket and sitting down on it. "of course i'd be the first to go."

"don't victimize yourself" draco smiled sarcastically.

"yeah," blaise nodded. "if anything, i'm the victim, considering my back will hurt horribly tomorrow"

"you mean us" enzo raised his eyebrows and blaise quickly agreed, like he had simply mispoken on accident.

"so, rock, paper, scissors?" theo suggested and blaise, draco and enzo nodded, before they split into two teams, dueling each other until there was a winner on each side. they repeated the process until three people had won against the others and only one person had lost: enzo.

"this is just because i'm the youngest:" he muttered, when he arranged his bed down on the floor next to the sofa pansy and you were sleeping on.

"i don't think age is considered in the game, enz," you said in a soft tone, helping him to make the floor as comfortable as possible to lighten his mood.

"so what now?" draco asked as soon as they all had been settled: blaise and him on the remaining couch and theo on the arm chair, legs hanging over the footrest.

"scary stories?" mattheo suggested with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"aren't we a bit old for that?" draco asked with furrowed brows as he looked from one friend to another.

"we're a bit too old for sleepovers too, but who cares?" enzo grinned from the floor, catching your face light up at the mention of scary stories.

"do any of you know some?" you asked, adjusting your position under the blanket, ready to get scared.

"oh, please" mattheo smirked. he adjusted his position on the floor, before his voice dropped to a lower octave. "there’s a story the ministry doesn’t like to talk about. a case from decades ago, buried so deep you’d only find it if you knew what to look for. It’s about a child born to a pair of powerful wizards—prodigies, really. they wanted their child to be just as extraordinary as they were, maybe even more so. but there was one problem: their daughter eden was born a squib."

your brother and you exchanged unimpressed glances.

"a squib? really?" draco repeated.

"that's not meant to scare us, is it? because if you think that just because we all grew up in pureblooded families we might be scared of—"

"obviously not," mattheo interrupted blaise with a wave of his hand. "would you let me continue now?"

"go on," you nodded, crossing your arms and leaning back against the cushion of the sofa.

"so, eden was born a squib. and her parents? they couldn’t bear it. a child with no magic? in their family? so, they searched for a solution. and they found one—a forbidden spell from an ancient book, a ritual meant to transfer magical power from one soul to another. it required… a tether. something living." he looked between his friends ominiously. "they found a boy. a muggle orphan, barnett. young enough not to be missed, old enough to survive the spell—barely. they brought him into their home, dressed him like a brother to their daughter, and told the world he was family. the ritual worked."

you all shrieked up as the light flickered at his words. mattheo's smile widened, before he continued the story.

"eden gained incredible power, but the tether didn’t just give her the boy’s magic. it tied him to her—body and soul. at first, it wasn’t so bad. he would simply mimic her. if eden laughed, barnett smiled. but over time, it became… worse. eden started to hear barnett's voice in her head, whispering things she didn’t want to hear—begging her to let him go. one night, she woke up screaming. she said he was inside her skin, crawling, clawing his way out. they found her curled up in her bed, her body jerking violently. and barnett? he was standing in the corner, completely still, his eyes wide and empty."

the light flickered again and your hand unconciously clenched around pansy's wrist. pansy pulled the blanket closer, as if to shield you both from an invisible force.

“the parents tried to undo the ritual, but it was too late. barnett started appearing in places he shouldn’t have been—in reflections, in the dark corners of the house. eden began to waste away, her body covered in strange, blackened veins. she kept saying, ‘he’s taking it back.’ one morning, they found her lifeless in her bed. and barnett? he was gone."

you could see both blaise and draco furrow their brows simultaneously, unable to tell in which direction the ending of the story was going.

“the house was abandoned after that, left to crumble into ruin. sometimes, people walking by the old estate hear faint whispers, like the sound of children laughing. and if you look closely into the cracked windows, you might see a boy standing there, pale as death, waiting for someone to join him. some people said they could hear him whisper through the glass, calling for his sister: 'e—"

mattheo was interrupted by a loud thump. all of you shrieked up, your eyes on the wall were the sound had come from.

"that was probably just—" enzo wanted to say, before he too, was interrupted.

"eden!" a loud voice beamed, making you all start screaming simultaneously. "eden!" the chandelier above you started swining and the lights flickered once again.

the process lasted about thirty seconds, before everything stopped and the room looked totally normal again.

all of you had crowded together in a circle, watching the ordeal back to back.

"what the fuck was that?" pansy muttered, pressing a hand to her chest to calm her heartbeat.

your eyes wandered through the circle of people before they landed on mattheo and you stepped forward, a finger hitting his chest.

"ow!" mattheo cried at the surprising pain of your small touch.

"this isn't funny, mattheo" you snapped.

mattheo pushed your finger away. “calm down, woman. i didn’t even do anything.”

“then it was one of you!” pansy accused looking between the remaining guys.

“literally no one here has a wand, except for mattheo.” theo crossed his arms, annoyed at her stupid accusation, but there was also a hint of worry in his words.

mattheo rolled his eyes. “pansy took it earlier, remember? when i generously suggested to conjure up comfortable beds or something.”

all eyes flew to pansy.

“it wasn’t her.” you exclaimed with a shake of your head. you glanced over to the sofa, the abandoned wand lying in the middle of where pansy and you had sat. “i would’ve noticed.”

“great” blaise smiled sarcastically. “so that leaves… who exactly?”

“no one, okay?” draco nodded, his lips pressed tightly together. “this is a magical school and we’re inside an incredible old castle. this might just happen sometimes.”

you looked to the side to find enzo’s eyes, who just shrugged.

all of you knew that there needed to be a different explanation, but rather ignored the pending question, as you settled back to your sleeping spots.

there were a few more minutes of light chatter, all of you growing increasingly more tired, before it was finally time to sleep. with a wave of mattheo’s wand, pansy put out the light and all of you got under your blankets.

you drifted off to sleep easier than you would've guessed, your mind being tired down from an exhausting school day and your body feeling the effects of walking up and down stairs all day.

you didn't even mind the snoring of the boys, as your mind settled on a sweet dream about something you surely wouldn't remember in the morning.

just when you thought the night wouldn't be as bad as expected, you woke up around 3am, the air in the common room was ice cold and you were shivering even under your thick blanket.

you opened your eyes to try and find the source of the coldness in the darkness, only for your gaze to flicker to enzo, who was stirring in his sleep, before he finally opened his eyes, directly looking back.

enzo made a surprised sound at you looking down at him and sat up. "why are you awake?" he whispered, as to not wake your still sleeping friends.

"it's cold," you muttered back, your eyes wandering around the room once again.

"oh," enzo nodded. "the fire is out." he threw back his blanket and got up. "here, let me just.." he grabbed a few pieces of wood and reached for mattheo's wand on the table to enlight the flame. the fire prickled to life quickly, illuminating the room in a warm glow and you immediately felt a lot warmer.

"thank you." you smiled gratefully as you watched enzo walk back over.

"anything," he smiled down at you and even in the dark you could see his perfect white teeth and your cheeks grew pink from the warmth of his gaze.

for a few seconds the both of you just simply looked at each other. you, still sitting on the couch, and enzo leaning slightly over you, keeping his gaze locked onto your eyes.

the moment was interrupted by a loud bang, when a shelf collapsed, sending a dozen books down to the floor. you had gripped enzo’s hand and he had fallen onto your legs as he had shrieked away from the sudden sound.

the rest of the slytherins now opened their eyes too, just as disturbed from the sudden loudness as enzo and you.

"what the hell?" mattheo sat up, rubbing his eyes.

all eyes wandered to the books on the floor. draco and blaise sat up too, pansy groaned and theo cleared his throat when his gaze dropped to enzo sitting half on your lap. enzo got back onto his feet in a hurry.

"i see you're counting on my sister to protect you, huh?" theo quirked a brow, a sarcastic smile settling onto his lips. but he was less amused than annoyed.

"n-no" enzo stuttered and looked at you for help.

you rolled your eyes, not willing to entertain your brother any further than necessary. "well, if you must know,” you began, sitting up straighter, “enzo was just about to confess his undying love for me before the bookshelf rudely interrupted.”

enzo choked on air. “i—what?” he quickly shook his head. "theo, i swear i wasn't—"

pansy, now fully awake, smirked. “oh, this just got interesting.”

draco groaned, flopping back against the couch. “It’s too bloody late for whatever this is.”

theo, however, narrowed his eyes at you. “hilarious.” his tone was flat, but the slight twitch of his jaw told you he wasn’t entirely amused. “but let’s focus on the part where random objects are flying around while we’re supposed to be sleeping.”

"exactly." blaise nodded, pointing a hand in theo's direction. "i think theo brings up a very good point: someone should go over there and inspect the thing."

"okay. why not you?" mattheo challenged, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

blaise shook his head, laughing like mattheo had suggested the stupidest thing ever. "for obvious reasons, mattheo." without explaining further, his eyes darted across the room, landing on pansy and you. "ladies?"

"and they say chivalry is dead." pansy smiled sarcastically, crossing her arms across her chest, "i'm not doing shit. i heard draco has studied well for the upcoming defense exam. he should go"

"actually" draco corrected, holding up a finger. "theo has been the one who helped me study, so i really think he—"

"fucking babies." you muttered, climbing down from the couch and walking closer to the book shelf at the back of the room.

"the wand, y/n" mattheo suggested, as he nodded at the fireplace, where enzo had left his wand.

you nodded, gripping the wand in your hand and slowly stepping closer.

"you're really letting her do this?" enzo frowned in theo's direction. your brother simply shrugged, not quite convinved there was something that could hurt you waiting in the corner of the room.

"y/n, wait"

you froze in the middle of the room. the same distance between you and your friends as to the bookshelf in front of you. you turned around and saw enzo standing in the middle of the two couches, looking unsure.

"what?" you questioned at his dramatic stance.

"i'll come with you."

"i'm not going to war, enz."

you were unable to stop the boy, the determination had already settled on his face, as he grabbed a pillow and stepped across the room.

"fucking idiot," you could hear blaise mutter under his breath. "two funerals is gonna be super expensive."

"no ones getting buried." pansy whispered back harshly.

"and you're loaded anyway." theo lazily commented.

you ignored your friends, your gaze still fixed on enzo, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. you were sure whatever it was, it wasn't as bad as to warrant that kind of fear.

"you really don't have to." you furrowed your brows at the way the pillow was shaking in his hold. "it's probably nothing."

"but what if it isn't?" enzo glanced to the shelf. "then you need someone to protect you."

normally you would've immediately corrected that stupid assumption, but the boy was so determined and ready to jump between you and whatever was waiting near that shelf, that you just couldn't. he was too lovely for his own good.

"okay," you nodded, stepping closer to the shelf.

the atmosphere in the room only grew to be scarier, as all of you held your breaths and the slytherins kept their eyes trained on enzo and you, stepping closer to whatever was awaiting you.

your hand gently wandered over the shelf in the wall, and after a few quiet seconds, your exhaled your breath, relief flooding your features. "see?" you said, turning back to your friends, "nothing—"

a loud crash echoed through the room when the remaining shelves all broke through at the same time. enzo jumped forward, gripping your hand and effectively sending mattheo's wand flying, as he pushed you behind him and threw his weapon,—pansy's super soft foam pillow that she always carried in her enchanted bag in case she got tired—, at the shelf.

"run," he then screamed, pushing you back into the direction of the couches, accompanied by your and your friends frantic screams.

"now should be the right time to get the fuck out of here." pansy suggested with a screech.

"could you please, uh, NOT SCREAM THAT DIRECTLY INTO MY EAR?" blaise's voice rang through the room.

"great! you left the wand" mattheo looked a little shaken up, but a lot less than the rest of your friends. the same could be said about theo.

"calm down," your brother said loudly, interrupting the fight that was going on between pansy and blaise, who were both continuously screaming at each other.

"calm down?" blaise repeated. "this is the fucking conjuring. how am i supposed to calm down?!"

"what's the conjuring?" draco asked confused, looking at you for help, but you could only shrug, never having heard that name before.

"muggle horror film." theo exclaimed with a roll of his eyes. "what in merlins name are you doing?" he narrowed his eyes at blaise, who was hectically lifting blankets and seemingly searching for something.

"oh, i'm out of here." blaise shrugged, still searching. "but i'm not about to leave my gucci scarf down here."

"gucci scarf?" enzo repeated in a whisper.

"might be another muggle thing." you shrugged.

"and where exactly are we leaving to?" draco crossed his arms. "i'm not about to be caught in the halls and lose like 50 points each."

"whatever we decide on, my wand is still lying at the end of this room." mattheo nodded to the point where his wand was still moving a little from falling from your hand.

"that's on me." you nodded. "i'll get it." you stepped forward, but before you could move further, enzo pushed you back into pansy's arms.

"i'll go. it was my fault anyway."

"lovely." blaise nodded sarcastically. "i'm gonna find good words for your funeral, brother."

"ready to die for a girl who isn't even his girlfriend." draco muttered under his breath.

theo's head turned to the blonde boy, his gaze sharp. "his what?"

draco averted his eyes and followed the line of sight of the rest of his friends, including you, who were staring after enzo with a guiltridden expression.

enzo took one step after the other, very slowly nearing the wand, his eyes darting from one side of the room to the other, as if to look out for any hints of an intruder or another thing happening.

he hesitated only for a second before taking a step forward, reaching down toward where mattheo’s wand had landed—

then, without warning, the flames in the fireplace extinguished completely. darkness swallowed the room. the temperature plummeted once more.

and from the depths of the common room, an unmistakable whisper slithered through the air—low, cold, and utterly inhuman.

run.

all of you took a moment to react, frozen in your movement, before blaise broke your trance, jumping over the couch like he was a gold winning athlete. "save yourselves!" he screamed, already half up the stairs.

screaming, you and your friends bolted for the stairs, trampling over each other in a frantic attempt to get out.

mattheo tripped over a pillow. pansy shoved draco out of her way. enzo sprinted across the room, holding onto your wrist, practically dragging you toward the common room entrance.

you all arrived at the doors, which just wouldn't budge, trapping you in the room.

a loud laugh echoed through the room, as all of you stood, your backs pressed against the doors, looking ahead with sheer horror at whatever was about to reveal itself.

then a poof and the sickly satisfied expression on peeves' face was staring right at you.

"PEEVES?" pansy shrieked, her voice cracking as she clutched onto draco’s arm.

"you've got to be kidding." theo groaned, rubbing his temples.

mattheo exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. "i knew this was too stupid to be a real haunting."

"stupid?" peeves gasped, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. "STUPID?" then, as if deciding that was a compliment, he grinned. "oh, but it worked, didn’t it? look at you all! shaking in your boots!” he twisted midair and did a mock bow. “peeves wins again!"

"you're dead," blaise muttered. "dead. when the baron gets back, you’re done."

at that, peeves did a lazy backflip and grinned. "ah, but he’s not here tonight, is he? nooo, the baron is out twirling with the other ghosts, leaving poor little slytherins all alone… and ripe for a bit of mischief!" he cackled, swooping down to hover inches from theo’s face. "you lot are always so boring—all your rules and manners and pureblood traditions—blah, blah, blah! so i took my chance, locked you out of your rooms and had a little fun.”

"so it was you!" mattheo pointed at the ghost, before turning his gaze back to all of you. "see! it wasn't my fault, my hex would've worked just as intended if this stupid little—"

"actually," peeves interrupted, spinning in midair. "you were this close to making things a whole lot worse. your hex would’ve triggered a nasty smell throughout the whole castle, like rotten fish and burnt hair. not to mention it might've set the curtains on fire. a real disaster, if you ask me."

"what?!" mattheo's eyes widened in disbelief. "i didn’t—"

"of course you didn't, mattheo" pansy rolled her eyes, stepping away from the door and sending a last scornful look in peeves' direction. "if you would excuse me? i'm going back to sleep."

"yeah, me too." draco sighed, following pansy back down into the common room.

the rest of you nodded too, leaving peeves behind, who pouted at your sudden disinterest, as you settled back into your sleeping bags for the night.

tomorrow you would explain to professor snape what peeves had done, maybe leaving out the part where mattheo had nearly burned down something and cursed the entire castle, and he would hopefully help you unlock your rooms and return to normal.

enzo smiled up at you, when you had gotten comfortable under your blanket.

the others had already grown quiet, indicating them drifting off to sleep.

you were still wide awake, looking down at the boy, who didn't make any move to close his eyes or go back to sleep either.

"thanks for protecting me tonight." you whispered softly. "especially while you were scared too."

"any time." enzo assured.

you weren't sure what possessed you to do it, but your hand wandered down slowly, softly brushing against his arm, as if to comfort him.

"really, though," you continued, your voice quieter now, "i don’t think i could’ve made it through all that without you."

enzo's lips curled into a small smile, but he didn’t say anything right away. his hand, almost instinctively, moved closer to yours, fingers brushing against yours in the slightest, a silent acknowledgment.

"you’ve got a way of making me feel less stupid," he said after a beat, a teasing undertone in his voice that made you laugh softly.

"maybe that’s because you’re not stupid at all," you replied, your heart suddenly racing for reasons you couldn’t quite explain.

"is this okay?" he whispered softly, taking your hand into his fully.

you nodded, before you closed your eyes. enzo's voice being the last thing you heard before drifting off into a dream filled with the golden light of the sun and whispered promises under cherry blossom trees.

"goodnight, y/n." he whispered, his voice soft but sincere. "i'll be waiting for you."

TAGLIST !

@mehrsdigitaldiary @swaysister @shyamanuensis @mattiesgf @shari-berri @the-lurking-await-you @marikajhaha @livia7137 @idiotussupremus @catiwinky

let me know if you want to be added!!

[shyamanuensis]

Damned if I do, Damned if I don’t - S.S.

!warnings!minorsdni, mature content, fwb, bdsm

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x you

The common room was dim, golden firelight flickering against stone walls, but the warmth did nothing to soothe the tension between you and Sebastian. You could feel it—thick, suffocating, vibrating in the charged space between your bodies. His jaw was tight, brows drawn together in that signature way that told you he was barely holding it together.

Oh, you loved this.

“Don’t act fucking clueless,” Sebastian snapped, voice low laced with something vicious. His hands twitched at his sides, as if resisting the urge to grab you—whether to shake sense into you or something far more dangerous, you weren’t sure.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence, though the smirk tugging at your lips gave you away. “What, exactly, am I being accused of, Sallow?”

Sebastian exhaled slow and seething, his eyes blackened swirling with anger.

“Garreth,” he gritted out. Just the name was venom on his tongue. “You really think I wouldn’t notice? You throwing yourself at him, pushing yourself against him like he’s—” He let out a humorless laugh, dark and low. “Like he’s done a single fucking thing to deserve it?”

You arched a brow. “Oh? And who should I be throwing myself at then?” You took a step forward, toeing that line of danger, watching his reaction closely. “You?”

Sebastian’s expression flickered—something dangerous flashing behind his eyes before he masked it with fury. “Don’t start with me,” he growled, voice dropping into something near a warning.

“Oh but it’s so fun, Sebastian,” you sang lightly, leaning in, feeling the sharp intake of breath he tried to conceal. His hands twitched again. He wanted to touch you. You knew it. But he wouldn’t—not yet. That wasn’t how this game worked.

You tilted your chin up, gaze locked onto his. “What’s the real problem here? That I was flirting? Or that it wasn’t with you?”

You trailed a teasing finger down the buttons of his black shirt, feeling the way his chest rose and fell beneath your touch.

"Aw, Sebby," you hummed, just to piss him off. You were rewarded instantly—his nostrils flared, and his scowl deepened. "Are you jealous?"

"Don’t be ridiculous," he scoffed, but his voice was tight.

"Mm," you hummed, trailing lower down his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath his shirt. "Could've fooled me. Thought you were about to hex Weasley into the next century."

"Maybe I should have."

Sebastian cursed under his breath, spinning you around, walking you backward until your spine hit the door of your dorm. His hands were everywhere—gripping, exploring, leaving trails of heat in their wake. Your skirt was bunched at your waist before you could blink, his fingers slipping between your thighs, pressing against the damp fabric of your panties.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice strained. “You like riling me up that much?”

You giggled, but it broke into a moan when he pushed your underwear aside, sliding two fingers through your wet cunt. “m-maybe,” arching into his touch.

"Seb—" Your hands found his shoulders, clinging to him as his fingers curled inside you, rubbing against the spot that had your legs shaking. He didn’t relent, only quickened his pace, drinking in the way your body responded to him. "Please..."

His attention piercing into your eyes. "Please, what? You want more?"

You nodded, panting, grinding against his hand, and he laughed, withdrawing his fingers only to replace them with his thigh, pressing against your heat. The friction had you gasping, desperate for more, but he wasn’t done teasing.

"Words, love. Use them."

"I—I need you. Now."

That was all he needed to hear. In a swift motion, he hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and carried you to the bed. His lips found yours, all-consuming and possessive, as he laid you down beneath him, trailing kisses down your neck, your collarbone, until his mouth latched onto your breasts, sucking, biting, leaving his mark.

You whined, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

His hands were gentle as he guided you onto his lap, positioning you above him. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours, as he slowly guided you down onto his length

A soft gasp left your lips as you took all of him, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. "Fuck—Seb"

"I know, love," he breathed, his voice shaky as he restrained himself, letting you adjust, his hands rubbing soothing circles over your hips. "You feel so good. Just take your time."

He helped you set the pace, guiding your hips as you moved, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease.

"That's it, babygirl," he murmured, his voice a mix of restraint and awe as he watched you. "You're taking me so well."

Your hands clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he bounced you in his lap, his cock pressing deep, hitting all the right places with every slow, deliberate stroke. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, lips trailing down your jaw to your throat, kissing and sucking tenderly before moving lower, his mouth latching onto your breasts again, tongue swirling over the sensitive skin.

"Sebastian," you whimpered, your fingers weaving into his soft hair, tugging gently.

He groaned in response, his hips bucking up instinctively. "You drive me mad, you know that? Watching you like this—" He let out a ragged breath. "You’re my perfect girl." Liar.

His hands slid back to your waist, steadying you before he took control, thrusting up into you with a slow, deep precision. The motion made your breath stutter, your body pliant in his grasp. His thumbs tracing reverent patterns over your hips. “Seb—I’m gonna cum” you moaned, throwing your head back.

His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as he thrust into you, your nails dug into his back as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, needing more. He obliged, picking up the pace, his thrusts growing deeper, rougher.

"Cum for me, baby," he murmured, voice thick with love and need. Oh you loved when he called you that. You shouldn’t love it as much as you do, but God, when he said it like that—like you were his, even though you weren’t—it was impossible not to.

The way he held you, the way his lips worshipped every inch of your skin. Pleasure crashed through you, your body arching into his as you moaned his name, shaking in his arms. He held you through it, his thrusts slowing, savoring the way you came for him.

His thrusts slowed but didn’t stop, “Fucking hell.” he groaned burying himself deep, spilling into you, his grip on your hips tightening as he rode out his own release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, tangled in each other. God it felt so good being here with him. Sebastian was so sweet and gentle during sex that it almost made you forget one little fucking important thing. You were just friends. You had been friends and were going to stay friends. This didn’t mean anything and neither did all the other times you’d fucked. It always happened this way.

Being brought back to reality when he pulled away, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder before he sat up, reaching for his clothes. As you watched him, it reminded you that what you’d just done was just that—nothing more. Why was this so fucking complicated? You hated it. Especially when he did things like kiss your forehead before he left. Like he wasn’t just inside you?

You lay there, sheets tangled around your legs as he buttoned his shirt, leaving the first few undone in his hurry to leave. His hair was a mess, disarray of hickeys up and down his throat—a mark of what had just happened, of how good it had felt, and yet, it meant nothing.

Just as he finished dressing, he turned back to you, his expression unreadable. And then just like clock work, to make it all the more unbearable, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You watched him leave, your chest aching as the door closed behind him. The silence that followed was suffocating. Slowly, you laid back down, staring at the ceiling as tears slipped down your cheeks.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You had to stop. This was only physical to him and it always would be.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: *sobs* fwb trope has a chokehold on me

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[shyamanuensis]

Idk got bored so here’s how I think some of the hl characters would write their names 🤷🏼‍♀️ (except seb and ominis are the only ones whose signatures are canon)