#‘points his quills’ I meant

[cartoonartistpng]

Street floofs

[theostrophywife]

focus on me.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader request: I NEED MATHEO OR THEODORE X FEM READER AND SHE JUST LOVES HIS HANDS AND ARM VIENS AND SHE WALKS INTO HIS DORM AND IS GOBSMAKED TO SEE HIS ABS AND SHE WANTS TO RIDE THEM AND SHES JUST SO OBSESSED AND THINKS HES THE HOTTEST MAN IN THE PLANET- AND SHE FOLDS LIKE A PRETZEL WHEN HE GIVES HER THOSE EYES- JESUS IM A CATHOLIC BUT THEO AND MATTHEO COULD BE MY NEW RELIGION- author's note: big thanks to @writingsbychlo for listening to me rant about this man in her inbox. posting this now so she can wake up to her mans. the way that i would fold for mattheo so fast (theo look away). anyways, enjoy this purely smutty fic 😮‍💨

You were supposed to be studying. 

When you came into his dorm, you specifically told Mattheo not to interrupt you under any circumstances. Usually, you preferred the library but some prat had accidentally set off a dung bomb, which meant closure until further notice. 

You tried studying in your dorm, but your fellow housemates decided that there was no better time to throw a back to school bash in the common room than the night before your Ancient Runes exam. Harry and Ron, who shared the same class, appeared completely unbothered as they chugged firewhisky straight from the bottle. 

Your roommate Hermione was long gone. Probably holed up somewhere in the dungeons with Draco. You followed your friend’s cue and snuck into your boyfriend’s dorm, narrowly avoiding Filch. It never seemed fair that the Slytherins got individual rooms, but tonight you had never been more thankful for it. 

Mattheo had set up a whole battle station for you on his desk. There were fresh ink pots, newly sharpened quills, and blank parchment waiting for you when you arrived. After kissing your sweet and considerate boyfriend, you went straight to work. 

By the time midnight struck, the parchment was filled with glowing runes, making your ink stained hands cramp from drawing out the symbols over and over again. To Mattheo’s credit, he kept to himself and read quietly on his bed while you studied. 

You were so engrossed in the material that you barely registered him kissing you on the cheek before leaving to take a shower. That little mistake cost you because as soon as he walked back into his dorm with nothing but a towel on, you nearly spilled fresh ink all over yourself. 

Water trickled down Mattheo’s chest, the little droplets snaking through his perfectly chiseled abs only to disappear beyond his v lines, which pointed like an arrow to what you knew was hiding underneath that towel. 

The fabric hung dangerously low on his hips as he walked over to his dresser to pick out something to wear. You watched with rapt attention as he braced himself against the wood, those delicious, juicy veins protruding from his forearms and nearly making you dizzy with desire. 

Finally, Mattheo turned. The silence had caught his attention and he smirked when he saw you ogling him. 

“See something you like, pretty girl?”

You flushed. “Just got a little distracted.”

Mattheo’s grin grew. He sauntered over to you, leaning over so that he had you caged against the desk. 

“Oh?” he asked, his voice low and husky and absolutely fucking sexy. “Maybe it’s time for a break then. You’ve been such a good girl studying so hard all night. I think you deserve a reward, my love.” 

Your breath hitched as Mattheo’s lips grazed yours. He tilted your chin up, giving you a perfect view of those brown eyes. Then he gave you the look and you knew you were done for. 

It was a look that said he wanted to devour every inch of you until you couldn’t even recall your own name. You gave in. Of course you gave in. How could you not?

“Maybe for a second…”

Mattheo took the opening. One arm snaked around your waist, bringing you up with him as he pressed you against the desk. His other arm crept up your back until he reached the nape of your neck, fisting your hair through his fingers as he kissed you roughly. 

“Do you even know how fucking sexy you are, princess? My smart schoolgirl in her tiny little skirt.” 

Mattheo carefully moved your studying materials aside before picking you up and setting you down on the table. He gripped the top of your thighs and brought you to the edge while sliding his tongue against yours. You whimpered as he grinded against you, showing you exactly how hard he was underneath the towel.

“Been thinking about bending you over this table all night,” Mattheo whispered in your ear. His hand climbed higher up your thigh and you felt your body instantly respond to his touch. “Bet you’re soaking wet for me already, aren’t you angel?”

You moaned as he toyed with the waistband of your panties. “Matty, please.” 

Your boyfriend smiled at your nickname for him, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. “What is it that you want, darling?”

“Touch me. Please.” 

Mattheo smirked as he tugged your panties off. His lust filled gaze drank you in as he dragged two fingers through your slick folds. 

“Fuck. You’re so wet. Is this all for me, princess?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, nipping at his neck. “It’s not fair. You play dirty, Matty. You can’t just walk in here with nothing but a towel on.” 

“Why not, angel?”

You sighed, tracing the hard planes of his chest. His muscles flexed under your fingertips as you gently raked your nails against his six pack. “Because you’re sexy and I can’t help myself.” 

Mattheo chuckled darkly, plunging two fingers in your pussy. You bucked against his hand, watching in stunned silence as he withdrew it only to stick his middle and pointer finger into his mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted you on him. 

“This is exactly what I mean,” you whined. “For Godric’s fucking sake, how am I supposed to concentrate after that?”

“Maybe we can compromise, angel.” He shuffled through your parchments and stuck one to the wall. “I’m going to trace the runes inside of you and if you get them all right, then I’ll give you your reward.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. Mattheo grinned before giving you a quick peck. “Pay attention, sweetheart.” 

His fingers dipped through your folds once more and you gripped his arm, fighting the moan from escaping your lips. Mattheo curled his fingers inside of you, drawing a familiar shape. 

“Urus,” you said in a breathy voice. “It means strength.”

“That’s right, angel.” He shifted as you ran your hands down his arms. You could feel his veins throbbing underneath your palm as he fingered you. “Don’t get distracted now. I know how much you love my hands. I promise they’ll be wrapped around your throat by the end of the night if you get all these right. Now focus.”

You nodded, eyes fluttering close as he traced another rune. “Algiz,” you answered. “For protection.” 

“Hot and smart,” Mattheo announced proudly. “How’d I get so lucky?”

His lips grazed yours and you willingly parted for him, fluttering around his fingers as his tongue slid into your mouth. He pumped his digits inside of you, teasing and taunting. 

“Let’s try something harder, princess.” 

Mattheo’s skillful fingers prodded against your walls, sketching a complicated shape. You closed your eyes and focused. It was a tricky one, but you remembered the cris cross pattern. 

“Inguz,” you said decidedly. “Fertility.” 

“That’s right,” Mattheo said with a smile. “You're doing so well, sweetheart. One more and you can have anything you want.” 

“Anything?” you asked with a small smile.

“Whatever that devious little mind of yours desires, my love.” 

“Okay,” you replied. “I’m ready, then.”

Your boyfriend nodded, staring right into your eyes as he marked the last and final rune. It was an effort not to get lost in those warm, brown eyes. But you steeled yourself, determined to claim your prize.

“Rerth. For luck.”

“Good girl,” Mattheo said with a smirk. “Fitting since you’re getting lucky tonight, angel. Where should we start?” 

You bit your lip, cocking your head at him. It was nearly an impossible choice. You wanted to kiss him. Bite him. Lick him. All of the above and more. 

But there was one thing that stood out from all the other deliciously sinful choices. You pressed your palm against his abs and grinned. 

“I want to ride your abs.”

Mattheo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected it, but fuck he was so down. He would’ve given you anything with the way you were looking at him right now. 

“You never fail to surprise me,” he said fondly. “Well come on then, let’s make your filthy little fantasy a reality.” 

In one smooth move, he lifted you off the table and deposited you on top of his bed. Mattheo reclined against the headboard and watched with hungry eyes as you straddled his stomach. He smiled as you slipped the tie off your neck and looped it around him. 

It was a simple move, but so fucking sexy and possessive at the same time. You were claiming him. Mattheo was yours and you were his. You belonged to one another—mind, body, and soul. 

Mattheo trailed kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks on your skin as his deft fingers made quick work of the first few buttons on your blouse. He leaned back and admired his work, his hands gripping your hips while you grinded your soaking wet sex against his muscles. 

He didn’t think it would feel this good. There was something about you using his body to get yourself off that fucking turned him on like no other. Mattheo lifted your skirt up, fisting the fabric in his hands and watching as you coated him with your arousal. 

The little whimpers you were making sounded like music to his ears. “My good little slut,” he said, squeezing your tits as you rode him with reckless abandon. “You’re so fucking filthy, baby. Using me to get yourself off. I’m just your fuck toy aren’t I princess?”

“So good,” you murmured. “You feel so good, Matty.”

The desperation in your voice set him off. He gripped your hips hard enough to bruise and bucked forward, smirking in satisfaction when you moaned. The ridges of his abs rubbed against your clit, providing the perfect amount of pressure to the sensitive area. 

“Keep riding me,” he said in a low, rough voice. “Just like that, angel. Such a good girl for me.”

You closed your eyes, lost to the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Mattheo gripped your chin, his voice rough around the edges as he spoke. “Open your eyes, darling. I want to watch you cum.”

His rich brown eyes pinned you in place, drinking in every detail. That sexy smirk curved against his lips as he hooked his arms behind his head, admiring the view of his girl riding him. 

“Look at you, baby. You’re making such a fucking mess. Such an innocent face, but you turn into a filthy whore when you’re with me.” 

“Only for you, Mattheo.” 

“Damn fucking right,” he said, sliding his hands under your skirt to rub at your clit. 

You bucked against him, riding out the high. Heat exploded in your core and seeped into your veins. Mattheo kissed you roughly, staking his claim on you as he devoured your moans. 

“That’s it, princess. Cum for me, pretty girl.”

The orgasm felt like a lightning strike. It hit you all at once, making your walls spasm as you came all over Mattheo’s abs. He cursed when he felt you soaking him through, utterly turned on by the mess that you’ve made. Mattheo had never been harder in his life. 

Your boyfriend peppered kisses on your face, pulling you taut to him as you came down from the high. Mattheo brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, tilting your chin up so he could press his lips against yours. He groaned and held your hips down, grinding his boner against your ass. 

“I’m not done making you cum, princess. You’ve got one more in you, don’t you angel?” 

As sensitive as you were, your pussy throbbed at his words. When it came to Mattheo, you could never really get enough. 

“I thought I only got one reward. You’re spoiling me, Matty.” 

“There’s no question about it. You’re my spoiled rotten little princess. But this reward isn’t for you, it’s for me.” He smacked your ass, gesturing for you to get up. “Now come on, angel. I was serious about that desk.” 

He smirked as he walked you back to his desk, his hands disappearing underneath your skirt as he massaged your ass. Mattheo kissed you roughly before he flipped you over, bending you on the desk so you were face down and ass up. He flipped your skirt up, hissing when he found you soaking wet again.

“You just can’t help yourself can you, princess?” He pumped himself in his hand before sliding the tip of his cock along your folds. “Gods, you’re fucking wet. Are you ready, baby?” 

You whimpered, rocking your hips against him for more friction. Mattheo held you in place, fisting your hair in his hands. 

“Use your words, darling. I want to hear you beg like the good little slut that you are.” 

“Please, Matty,” you whined. “I need you so badly that it hurts.” 

He kissed the base of your spine, grinning as he eased his length inside of you. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, you gripped the edges of the table as Mattheo buried his cock within your walls. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but he kept you upright, cursing when he felt how wet and tight you were. 

“Fuck,” he grunted as he thrust into you slowly. Mattheo gripped you from behind, picking up the pace. Your pussy clenched around him like a vice. “Gods, pussy’s so good baby. You’re doing so well. Taking all of me like my perfect little whore.” 

Mattheo fucking adored the way you blushed at his filthy words. He leaned over, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as he fucked you into the table. He thought he was going to pass the fuck out when you grinded back into him, meeting his movements to take more and more of him. Mattheo leaned over and shielded your head from the wall, making sure you were protected as the table shook underneath you. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your breathy little moans was enough to send him over the edge, but he wanted to make good on his promise. Mattheo always put his girl first. The boys were right. He might be just a little bit pussy whipped. 

Even without the sex, you could’ve asked Mattheo to kill for you and he would’ve done so without question. 

“I fucking love you, darling. I’d kill for you. I’d die for you,” he said, every word laced with conviction. “Forever and always.” 

“I love you too, Matty. Forever and always.” 

He kissed your cheek, the action surprisingly soft compared to how rough the sex was. You felt like you could’ve melted onto the floor. 

“Cum with me, my love.” 

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you as that familiar heat spread burned in your core. He held you as the orgasm rocked through your body, sharing in the euphoric high while the two of you finished together. His grip around you only tightened, hugging you from behind while he slowly pulled out. You were barely keeping upright as it was, your legs threatening to give out under you. 

Without a word, your boyfriend scooped you into his arms and brought you back to bed. He cradled you against him, whispering praises and encouragement while stroking your hair. 

“You did so well, baby. I’m so proud of you for remembering all those runes. You’re gonna ace your exam tomorrow.” 

“You really think so, Matty?” You snuggled against him, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Mattheo stroked your back and placed a kiss on your temple. 

“I know so, darling. You have no idea how proud I am for having such a smart girlfriend. I love bragging about you to our friends.” 

You flushed. “Well, I couldn’t have done it all on my own. I had some help from my smart, sweet, and sexy study partner.

Mattheo grinned and kissed you gently. “Glad to be of service, my love.” 

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[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART FIVE

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, not much for this chapter, but as always, be cautious! a/n: so sorry for the wait, this chapter isn't as long as the others but i'm in the process of moving! i'll be moved in by late next week, so when that happens, i'll finally have more time to deliver longer parts and be more active! <3 masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

“You let her get away.”

“S’not like I meant to, Cap,” Soap defended, scowling to himself.

The four men stood in Price’s quarters, all shoulders equally tensed and expressions grim. While Gaz and Ghost remained quiet thus far, the intensity rolled off of them menacingly. Soap could practically see the sourness fill the air.

“But you did,” Price reiterated, slamming his palm on the table. It shook the room, quill holders rumbling and threatening to spill onto the floor. “We already take a risk havin’ her on our ship until she grows accustomed to livin’ here. How could you be so careless?”

“Can ye blame her?” Soap spat back. The men fell silent with Price narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “The poor lass watched the four of us burn her village down. Then we took her in like a fit of scoundrels. I don’t blame her for runnin’ off the way she did.”

Price kept his mouth shut, pressed in a firm line. His shoulders were squared, an argument threatening to spill out, yet he didn’t encourage it. After all, Soap had a point, but they weren’t supposed to care. It was a simple part of being savages.

“She’ll understand eventually—“

“But she won’t,” Soap cut Price off, leaning his hands on the table to match the Captain’s. The two of them stared long and hard at one another. “We don’t even understand, so what makes ye think she will?”

“Soap,” Ghost warned. Soap’s gaze flickered over to the masked man, whose eyes were darkened with warning. Gaz shifted uncomfortably from beside him. “Watch your tongue.”

Soap opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, Price raised his palm, requesting silence. The look on his face was unreadable, but the sign of authority was clear.

“You need to get your head out of the trenches, Soap,” Price warned. “Carin’ for her will only have you throwin’ yourself overboard, and that’s not somethin’ I can save you from. We needed a medic, and she was in the right place at the right time. That is all.”

“So ye don’t have the slightest bit of sympathy for her, s’that right, Cap?” Soap asked, eyes narrowing in on the Captain.

“There is no place in this world for sympathy,” Price responded meekly. “Let alone for her.”

“And for us?” Soap questioned, gesturing to the other two men in the room.

“You are my men,” Price grunted. “She is an unlucky woman that came from rags rather than riches. That is to no fault but her own. You forget your place, Soap.”

Though Price had remained calm, Soap could see the building aggravation. It was in the way the Captain’s hands clenched atop the table, his eyes glossed over with a heated fire from being rebutted.

“It seems yer forgettin’ yers as well, Captain,” Soap muttered bitterly.

The atmosphere was so thick, it was suffocating. Not a single man said another word, caught in a deadly stare down. It was a rarity to challenge Price’s authority, let alone over an unfortunate woman who they had ruined all on their own.

If Soap’s words affected Price, he didn’t make it known. Rather, his irritability was evidence, and he appeared to be fighting off any resentment towards his own crew.

“Get out,” Price uttered, voice low, but the notion was clear. “All of you.”

Nobody argued. Rather, they filed out one by one, Price’s door slamming on the way out.

Ghost grumbled when just the three of them remained, stalking off to his own quarters for the night.

Gaz joined Soap in watching the masked man leave. It wasn’t until he was fully out of sight did Gaz speak.

“You have a point, Soap,” Gaz said quietly, slapping a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Good luck makin’ Cap see that.”

Gaz gave him another squeeze of his hand before sauntering off himself, leaving Soap alone on the upper deck, the summer air suddenly feeling frigid and bitter.

The cell was suffocating you all over again. You missed the feel of a bed, the soft furs that lined Price’s bed that showered you in comforting warmth for the night, the flood of fresh air in your lungs.

Part of you felt like you took it for granted. The bitter part of you, though, knew that you deserved to have those things without being in the possession of a pirate.

The shoes Soap left you taunted you from the corner of the cell. They mocked you, called you ungrateful. It painted you with an uncomfortable guilt that settled deep in your bones.

You shouldn’t feel bad for a bunch of savages, but what kind of savages would think to surprise you with shoes, even picking out ones that you might like? You couldn’t speak for the others, but Soap had shed a light of humanity in a time where you needed it, and you had fucked that up.

Now, you wanted it more than ever. The cell was cold and unwelcoming, and you missed the taste of freedom you were given so shortly.

It felt as if you were back at square one. For the first day, nobody came to offer you food like before. Your stomach grumbled with a might that had you coiled over, silently crying into your hands. The second night was torturous, and it felt as if your own stomach was beginning to feast on itself.

The third night, however, was when you were finally graced with sympathy.

What greeted you, or more so who, had taken you by surprise. Expecting Soap or Gaz, or even Ghost to degrade you for being so stupid, you were instead faced with the Captain himself.

Price stood with a steaming bowl of stew and another bowl of simple rice. The sight of it had your mouth watering and your stomach gurgling in desperation.

“Hello, dove,” he offered, his tone surprisingly soft compared to the spitefulness he held days before. It still held authority, one you didn’t think would ever rid itself, but it wasn’t as angry as expected.

You gave him a nod in response but said nothing. A touch of dread crept up your spine. He was all too calm to you, who had nearly sent his men to unforeseeable death.

Price balanced the two bowls on one arm so he could unlock your cell door and step inside. Once in, he carefully placed the bowls on the ground in front of you where you sat, taking a cautious step back.

As much as you wanted to devour the food without. a second thought, you remained frozen and stubborn. You stared at the bowls of hot food before shifting up to look at him. When he gave you a nod in confirmation, that was all you needed to begin eating.

Eating was the nicer word. Demolishing was more accurate.

You didn’t bother to eat with the spoon given, rather you used your hands to grab a fistful of rice and guzzle it down. Grains of rice stuck to your face around your mouth, showing an embarrassing display. You were so hungry you didn’t care.

“Slow down,” Price ordered. You paused in your eating, glancing up at him. He didn’t look angry, but he did look a bit disturbed at your desperation.

Flustered, you swallowed the food down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Picking up the spoon in the stew, you ate it with eagerness but allowed yourself some decency.

Price was silent as you ate, standing with his arms crossed, watching. You were too enraptured in the meal to care, even if you look distasteful. The food had never tasted this good before, and you weren't sure whether it was because you were starving, or because somebody else cooked.

You imagined the pirates in the kitchen together, chopping vegetables and meat to place it in a pot, using an array of spices. Arguing over who got to do what, disagreeing with a choice of meal for the day.

It gave them a small sense of normality in your mind, even eliciting a small laugh from you. Price’s face contorted in confusion, wondering what could possibly be funny, especially in times like this. You, locked in a cell, given the worst hand the world could’ve given you, finding something joyful enough to laugh through it.

“Would you like to tell me why you’re laughin’?” Price gruffed.

You swallowed down your food, peering up at him from where you sat on the floor. “I was just imagining Soap and Ghost arguing over who gets to cook,” you confessed, looking back down at your food. “I apologize. It is not funny.”

You could feel Price’s stare. The air was silent, tense, before he ultimately broke it. “Ghost is the one that cooks,” he explained. “Used to be a butcher back in his day.”

“A butcher?” you repeated, pondering. The mask Ghost flaunted made him mysterious and concealed. You would’ve never imagined him as a butcher, though the more you thought about it, the more it clicked. “That seems to make quite a bit of sense, actually.”

“Does it?” Price hummed with the telltale sign of amusement. It was hardly evident. “Yes, I believe it does. Explains why he’s so good with a knife, aye?”

You grimaced at that. Ghost was certainly good in combat, that was something you could see from the jump. You just didn’t want to envision who and what he uses it on.

“I believe we got off on the wrong foot,” Price began. The words took you by surprise. “Might have ruffled too many of your little feathers too soon.”

“That is a severe understatement,” you muttered. Price shot you a look, successfully shutting you up.

“We do not normally have others on our ship. If we have treated you with hostility, then I apologize. You must understand the walls we have built up, you see,” he explained.

“Then why have you taken me if you are going to treat me as a mere rat?” you asked. He sniffed, feigning disinterest. “I thought you appointed me as a medic. It does not feel as though you are true to your word. Is there perhaps another reason for kidnapping me that you are not telling me?”

Price was quiet, eyes wandering off elsewhere. He appeared in thought, as if debating something heavily in his mind.

“No,” he finally said, hesitating. “You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. I do not apologize for taking you, but I do… sympathize. Perhaps I should’ve been kinder.”

“Perhaps,” you repeated, albeit a tad bitterly. Price was unfazed by the subtle resentment you held. He didn’t seem to care at all. He was a hard man to read, even harder than Ghost. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and that was dangerous.

Price cleared his throat, the aura of awkwardness smothering him. It was evident to you that he wasn’t used to being kind and having to resolve with someone. You briefly wondered what made him change his mind.

“You are right,” he continued. “We took you in to be our medic. Medics cannot work in a cell.”

Price took a step back to leave the cell, yet the door remained open. He gestured for you to step out, to join him. You were weary, slowly standing from your spot and taking a skeptical step out of the cell.

“I will give you the choice in who you wish to stay with until we can arrange a space for you to sleep.” Price began stepping up the stairs that led to the upper deck, so you silently followed. “If you wish to stay with me again, that is fine. But if you wish to stay with Gaz or Soap, that can be arranged as well.”

“No Ghost?” you asked in, dare you say, amusement.

“Unless you would like to be strangled in your sleep, I would not advise it,” he responded.

“That was a jest, Captain. I know how to pick my battles.”

Price paused in front of the doors to the upper deck, turning to you. He stared for a long moment, before you saw the tiniest of smiles play at his lips. It was buried under his facial hair, but from the slight crinkle in his eyes, you knew.

“You’re quite the wise bird, I’ll give you that,” he mused, before opening the doors. “Up you go.”

The moonlight soaked into your skin the moment you stepped out of the brig. It was inviting, basking you in the warmth you so craved. The air was crisp, and you breathed it in heavily through your nostrils, your body immediately faltering in relief.

Oh, how you missed the outside. Though your stay in the brig was much shorter than when you first arrived, it was still just as alleviating to get a taste of being human again.

“You will stay with me for the night,” he explained, guiding you across the creaky decks. “The others are already in their rooms. Tomorrow, you can decide who you prefer.”

You gave him a nod in acknowledgment, following him quietly to his quarters. When you arrived, the familiar scent of musk and cinnamon invaded your nostrils. For a pirate, it was a comforting smell, and you found a strange solace in it.

“I’m sure you wish to bathe, yes?” he asked.

A bath sounded heavenly. To wipe the grime and sweat off your skin, to feel clean again. You would’ve jumped into the dark sea if it meant bathing.

“You do not mind?” you questioned, suspicious.

“You’ll be sleepin’ in my cot for the night. I’d prefer if you were unsoiled. No bad blood, aye?”

Price’s boots were heavy against the floors as he made his way to the back of his quarters, where a lone curtain hung. Pulling it back, he exposed a wooden bowl, large enough to fit you, but certainly a squeeze for him.

A barrel stood behind the bath, and Price made haste to lift it with ease. Water began to pour out of the spout, slowly but surely filling the makeshift tub.

While he worked, your eyes wandered to glance around his quarters. When staying in it previously, you didn’t have the gall to be curious. Now that the two of you were on good enough terms to be acquaintances for now, you allowed yourself to be a bit nosy.

The walls were littered with pinned up maps, all varying in land. You hadn’t a clue where everything was, so none of it made sense to you. However, upon looking over to his desk, you saw another map, one unlike the others.

This one was written on with the ink of a quill. You weren’t sure the location, however, it seemed to be a mixture.

Over some of the islands graphed on the map, a large X was drawn in its place. They were crossed out with the ink, covering up the names printed over the location, deeming it impossible to read.

However, two locations were circled rather than crossed out. One was in the middle of the sea, not a piece of land or island in sight. The other was circled around a small island, tucked away from the Mainland, its name unknown. Beside it, a scrap piece of paper sat.

“The one who heals the ill and poor

shall be the cure to all demise.

Washed away to land and shore

shall be the looking glass for ocean eyes.

Find the one that you shall seek

to end the curse of Shadow’s Peak.”

As you finished reading, a large hand came into view, slamming over the poem. Price loomed over you, leaning against the table.

“Go and bathe,” he ordered. “I will leave you alone to do your bidding and return when you’re done.”

Jostled by the surprise appearance, you offered a meek nod, sauntering off to the tub. As Price left, he rolled up the map as well as the poem, tucking them under his arm and leaving no trace of what you witnessed behind. He had something to hide, it was clear, but you couldn’t decipher the meaning of the passage you read.

Perhaps he was simply a writer. It would explain why he seemed defensive that you saw it, but it wouldn’t explain the map. He also didn’t seem the type to sit at his desk and meddle with written poetry. He was a Captain, and his priorities lied with the men on his ship and the thievery of neighboring villages.

Now left alone in the quarters, you willed yourself into the bath, sinking into the water. It wasn’t warm nor cold, but it was relaxing anyway, biting away the tension in your muscles. You were in desperate need of it, and you were grateful you and Price were at a standstill where he allowed you the pleasure.

While you tried to rid yourself of what you saw, it kept creeping in in waves, burdening you with questions unanswered. Even after you scrubbed away the caked dirt until your skin was raw and changed into clean garments that Price tugged out for you, the sense of unease never went away. You felt tainted, like a lingering darkness was coursing through your veins and oozing from your skin.

The garments you wore were large. They overtook your body, swallowing you whole, but they were much better in comparison to the rags that hung from your body, dirtied with nasty impurity. You didn’t know how to feel about the Captain after everything, but he was showing you humility, and that was enough for you right now. It was the best you could make out of being kidnapped by the four of them and thrown in a life of chaos and uncertainty.

As you tucked yourself into Price’s cot, you took one last glance to the maps that remained on the walls. None were like the one you had seen, not a scribble nor blotch tainting the paper. The one Price held was special, and you knew you’d be fighting tooth and nail in order to find out. Until then, you could let yourself relax. After all the torment you’d been through, you deserved a moment of peace before everything imploded once again.

[ellecdc]

✋🏻 i have a request

so i’m a loudmouth, a D1 yapper if you will. could you maybe please write something with a yapper reader who just gets quiet and flustered in regulus’s presence?

like she’ll be going on about the randomest thing and regulus walks by and her mouth snaps shut and her face gets bright red.

hiiiii! I decided to pair this with two anonymous requests for our dear reggie too! prompt 2: I was thinking maybe a Potter! Reader who is in the same year as Regulus and has a huge crush on him, she just kind of watches him from a distance, here comes James and Sirius noticing and they try to set her up with Reggie prompt 3: I was wondering if I could get a regulus x reader where regulus is like close to the marauders and then Reggie gains like a crush on reader and the marauders find out and like kinda spy on them but like not well and maybe it ends in Reggie asking reader out

Regulus Black x Potter!reader who has a 'big fat crush' on Reggie

CW: sibling squabbles, this was hard for me to write for some reason so I'm sorry if it reads awkwardly!

“I’m just saying, if you didn’t want your essay to go up in flames, maybe you should have spent less time talking about which of your classmates were ‘filthy blood traitors’, and more time making sure I couldn’t point my wand at your parchment, you know?” You asked rhetorically as James and Sirius roared with laughter. 

“How far along was he in his essay?” Peter asked with a low chuckle before taking another bite of his lunch.

“Oh, he was done. He probably should have handed it in instead of running his mouth.” You said with a proud smirk as your brother roughly patted you on the back, letting out another bark of laughter. 

“I would have paid good money to see the look on his face.” Sirius said as he wiped fake tears away from under his eyes. 

“Find me a pensieve, Black, and I’ll show you.” You offered with a wink before remembering something.  “Oh! James, I meant to tell you; I heard from Janey who heard from Cromwell who heard from Collins whose sister works at Honeydukes that they’re having a sale on those caramel sugar quills that-”

“-Lily likes so much!” James finished for you. “My hero! Thank you!” He said as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of your head.

You feigned disgust and rubbed it off before continuing. “If you want, I can ask Janey to ask Cromwell to ask Collins to ask his sister to put some aside for you?”

“I’d owe you my life.” He responded solemnly. 

“Chocolate frogs will suffice.” 

“Consider it done.” 

“I’d like chocolate frogs too, Prongs.” Remus offered then.

“What have you done to help me win over the girl of my dreams, Moony?” James countered. 

“I’ve not told her about the time you screamed like an ickle little first year when you found Fenwick’s toad in your shoe.” Remus replied plainly.

“Why do they have to have warts!?” James groaned miserably as he remembered his toad assault. 

“The bumps aren’t actually warts, Jamie; they’re glands. They contain a toxin that they will secrete if they feel threatened.” You explained.

James blinked at you owlishly before shaking his head in disgust. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

“Hello, Sirius.” Regulus’ voice interrupted then, standing stiffly behind Sirius as he looked around the group of you. “Lupin, Pettigrew…Potter’s.” 

“‘Sup, Reggie?” Sirius responded easily.

“‘Lo, baby Black! What brings you to the red side of the Great Hall?” James asked then, earning him a glare from the younger Black brother.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well that just makes me want to call you that even more.” James admitted.

“What brings you to the Gryffindor table?” Remus repeated with a knowing smirk.

“Can’t I just come say hello to my brother?” He asked defensively. 

“You could, but would you?” Sirius asked sceptically then.

Sirius and Regulus stared at each other in silence before Regulus finally sighed. 

“Potter, erm… Y/N, I was wondering if you’ve finished Professor Sprout’s essay about the proper propagation of venomous tentacula’s?” 

At the following silence, James turned to notice you staring at Regulus in what appeared to be abject horror before you slowly nodded your head. 

“How, uhm… how many feet of parchment did it end up being?” Regulus continued awkwardly; his eyes flitting between you and his brother. 

The group watched as you opened your mouth a few times only to close it again - not unlike some socially awkward fish - before clearing your throat. 

“Erm…I think it’s about four feet.”

Regulus seemed relieved by your answer and nodded in understanding. “Good, mine is about that as well.”

James looked between his friends, his sister, and his best friend’s little brother after a few moments when it became clear that no one was going to say anything else.

“Was…was that all, Regulus?” Peter asked then, clearly agreeing with James that lunch had quickly become painfully awkward. 

Regulus seemed to look at you first, only responding when you kept your gaze down at the wood grain of the table. 

“I suppose so. I’ll see you lot around.” 

And with that, the Slytherin boy hurried back to his side of the Great Hall.

James’ eyes only left Regulus’ form when he heard a miserable groan escape your lips as you let your head fall to the table with a thunk.

“What the fuck was that?” Sirius and James questioned at the same time.

“I’ve gotta go.” You muttered miserably as you gathered your bag and stood from the Gryffindor bench.

“Where?!” James called after you. 

“To run away with the fucking centaurs at this point!” You called back before disappearing through the doors. 

“Since when does Regulus come to say hi to you, Pads?” Peter asked then, still watching Regulus from across the hall who now had his eyes glued to the door. 

Sirius, who up until that point looked just as bemused as Peter did, had a look of understanding dawn on his face. 

“Merlin’s beard.” He hissed as he smacked James in the arm from across the table.

“Ow! What? What? Why are you hitting me?” James called as he rubbed his arm protectively. 

“When was the last time you saw Y/N be reduced to awkward silence?” He asked then.

“At mum and dads fundraising gala when that wizard from Witch Weekly attended.” James answered quickly; knowing that one of his sister’s greatest strengths was her ability to talk (especially when it helped get them all out of trouble). “Though she’s been doing it an awful lot lately.”

“Like when you coerced Regulus into joining us at the Three Broomsticks last weekend.” Remus offered.

James nodded. “And when I made her come with me to scout the Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin game last Monday.” 

“And when Regulus just happened to be looking for a Herbology textbook when she was studying in the Herbology section of the library.” Remus continued.

“Godric’s balls.” Peter breathed out, looking towards Sirius incredulously. “You’re not suggesting-”

“-that our littlest Potter has a big fat crush on the littlest Black? I sure am.” Sirius said smugly. 

“I don’t think she’s the only one with a ‘big fat crush’.” Remus added, nodding towards Regulus who was chewing aggressively on his lip, still looking in the direction you just went.

“Oh my Godric.” James hissed as he turned towards Sirius excitedly. “Oh my Godric, Pads! We’d be real life actual brother’s-in-law!” 

“I’m going to walk Reggie down the aisle.” Sirius added wistfully as he clutched at his chest. 

“Merlin and Morgana. They can’t even make it through a sodding conversation; stop planning their wedding.” Remus muttered as he turned a page in his book. 

James let out an incredibly dramatic gasp as he looked at Remus. “You’re right. We have to do something!” 

“What do you say, boys? Up for some mischief for the greater good?” Sirius asked with a perfectly arched eyebrow. 

“Operation turn Potter Black!” James cheered to the group, causing the three boys to look at him in various levels of bemusement and discomfort.

“Erm, Prongs…” Peter started.

“Absolutely fucking not.” Remus added.

“We can’t call it that.” Sirius agreed. 

“We’ll circle back to it.” James said as he stood from the table.

Sirius shared a slightly panicked look with the other two Marauders before standing as well. “No…no James, we really can’t call it that.” 

“It’ll be a placeholder until you guys think of something better!”

“Anything would be better.” Peter whined as they all trailed out of the Great Hall in the name of mischief. 

。.。:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。.。:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+*ﾟ

“Quick! You’ve got to see what we’ve planned.” James had said to you as he grabbed you roughly by your arm outside of Transfiguration and hauled you in the direction of the library.

You allowed him to nearly drag you through the courtyard and into the central haul; apologising to students that you nearly collided with in his haste. 

“But…what did McLaggen do? Why are you pranking him?” You asked breathlessly as the two of you made it to the library doors.

“The bloke’s a prick, Trouble, do keep up.” Sirius called as you met up with him. 

The two boys ushered you through stacks of books towards the end of the library that held private study rooms when Remus and Peter materialised from a row of shelves.

“He’s coming!” Peter squeaked as Remus quickly redirected the three of you. 

“That way, quickly.” 

Knowing better than to question Remus, you allowed James to guide you by the shoulder towards one of the private study rooms in order to hide from McLaggen as he walked into their trap. 

Except…

Except no sooner had Sirius opened the door did James bodily shove you into the room before they slammed the door behind you.

“Wha- James!” You shouted as you heard him cast a locking charm and a muffliato around the door. 

“What are they up to now?” A tired voice sounded from behind you.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you realised what they had done, praying to every deity that the voice didn’t belong who you thought it belonged to. 

But of course, the deities didn’t give a bowtruckles arse about you, so you turned on the spot to see Regulus Black sitting at the end of the table looking at you with a sceptical expression and one perfectly arched brow. 

Godric, he was beautiful.

“Making my life hell.” You answered despondently. 

Regulus offered you a tight lipped smile as he nodded in understanding. “Ah, so, regular brother stuff then?”

You breathed out a chuckle as you nodded, trying once more at the door before giving up in your efforts to escape. 

“What did you do to get yourself locked in a room with me?” He asked then, fiddling with the tomes and notes in front of him.

“Had the audacity to be born into the Potter family, I guess.” You muttered.

Regulus made a non-committal sound as he considered you. “I’m sure a lot of people would have loved the honour.”

Your face softened as you looked at the Slytherin boy. “I know they’ve asked you already, but you should come, you know? I know Sirius would love it if you did, and my parents would too.” 

Regulus nodded slowly at you, though he never moved his gaze from your eyes. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?”

Regulus smiled ruefully then. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t get the impression that you like me very much.”

You stood there with your mouth agape like some mute opera singer. “Okay, I’ll correct you then; you’re very wrong Regulus Black.”

“Oh, I’m very wrong, am I?” 

“Horribly so, I’m afraid; I can’t believe you’d even say such a thing.” You continued haughtily; finally sitting down in a chair across from him. 

“Well, you see, everyone is always telling me how much of a chatterbox you are, yet you never seem too keen on chatting with me. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve exchanged more words with Mulciber at this point.” He teased.

“The most I ever talk to Mulciber is to tell him to go fuck himself!”

A divot formed between his brows as he tilted his head in confusion. “Is that not just your love language? I’ve heard you say the exact same thing to Potter and my brother.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him as you leaned back in your chair. “Touche” 

Regulus smirked at you then. “So, why don’t you talk to me?”

You let out a heaving sigh and looked to the ceiling. 

You were trapped, and you knew why you were trapped, and you figured there was no use in pretending that you didn’t. 

“I suppose I find you a little…nerve wracking.” You settled for, figuring that telling him you thought he was so handsome that even standing within his vicinity seemed to short circuit not only your brain but somehow your entire nervous system would perhaps be a little much. 

“Oh good.” He responded, sounding truly relieved by your answer. “I thought it was only me.”

What? You thought stupidly.

“What?” You asked stupidly. 

“I find you a little nerve wracking too.” He responded.

“Me?” 

“You.”

“Why?” You nearly shrilled before remembering yourself and feeling immediately embarrassed for your theatrics.

“Well, I suppose for the same reasons you find me nerve wracking?” Regulus offered. “You’re really quite pretty, Y/N.” 

You swear to all of the gods that your brain made an audible record scratch sound at that moment as you tried to compute what he had said to you. 

He called you pretty, that much went without interpretation. But did he just insinuate that he knew you thought he was pretty?

“You do know that, right?” He asked, shaking you from your internal spiralling. 

“Know what?”

Regulus smirked then. “That you’re pretty?”

You scoffed and crossed your arms petulantly. “Of course I knew that; I just wasn’t aware that you did, too.” 

“Ah,” He started with a smile. “My apologies, I’ll make it more obvious that I find you attractive going forward.”

“Thank you.” You huffed.

“You’re very welcome.”

The two of you allowed a semi-comfortable silence to lap as he continued watching you and you continued looking anywhere else but him.

“So,” He interrupted eventually. “What now?” 

You tapped your arms in thought. “Now I figure out how to get back at my meddlesome brother.” 

Regulus hummed as he nodded his head. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Yeah…hey, do you happen to know where I could find a toad or two?”

“Yes, actually. I’m quite certain Evan and Barty are breeding some in the dungeons.” He answered with a look of ill-hidden discomfort at the thought.

“Do you think they’d let me borrow some?”

“Well that depends; would they be used for chaos and/or destruction?”

“Yes.” You responded quickly.

“Oh, well then absolutely.” He quipped back.

He smiled and held your gaze before leaning on his arms against the table. “How about this? I’ll ask Barty and Evan for some of their toads, if you go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend.”

You narrowed your eyes as you pretended to think about it before extending your hand across the table. “Deal.”

He shook your hand as he offered you a crooked smile before leaning back into his seat.

The door popped open just enough for your brother to poke his traitorous head in. “Are you guys in love yet?”

He barely had time to pull his head out of the frame and shut the door as you hurled your book bag at him; the blunt force instrument you had hoped would at the very least incapacitate your brother simply thudding against the wall before falling to the ground in a sad heap.

“You know he’s just going to keep you locked in here longer for that, right?” Regulus asked you then.

You made a non-committal sound as you settled back into your chair. “Perhaps that isn't such a bad thing.”

[loveinhawkins]

Steve grabs the bag before Eddie can. “No, I’ve got it.”

Eddie glances at the transparency of the plastic bag: the outline of his battle vest pokes through it, neatly folded.

He sidesteps the rest of the group as they troop out of the RV. Steve’s still standing his ground by the driver’s seat.

“Uh, Steve, I can see what’s in there. That’s mine.”

“Yeah, but—” Steve huffs, still holding the bag tightly, and he almost seems… embarrassed. “Like, just. Don’t look at it right now, I’ve got it. I’m gonna dry clean it. Later, I mean.”

Eddie laughs. But Steve remains deadly serious.

“Uh, that’s nice and all, but I don’t think dry cleaning gets out… um, blood and…” Eddie pokes his head out the RV door, to where the kids are hauling weapons and tanks of lighter fluid with Robin and Nancy—a sight he steadfastly tries to ignore before he panics ad nauseam—and asks, “What’s your word for, uh, Upside Down related, uh, you know—”

“Slime?” Lucas offers.

“Sludge,” Erica corrects.

“Goop,” Max says decisively.

“Shit,” Dustin says.

Eddie nods. “Helpful, thanks.”

He turns back. He’d intended for all that to get Steve to crack a smile at least, but if anything, he looks worse; the expression on his face has shifted into evident guilt.

“Steve,” Eddie says, caught between being amused and… honestly, touched. “Relax. It’s fine, man.”

Steve keeps frowning. “But it was—”

“—not important.”

Steve huffs again, like he’s saying don’t lie.

Eddie changes tack. He hasn’t missed the fact that Steve’s change of clothes from The War Zone means that, sure, less skin’s on show, which is probably better for Eddie’s heart but, more importantly, his bandages are ‘conveniently’ concealed—which is decidedly less good for Eddie’s heart, so maybe they both cancel each other out.

If ever there was the time for sincerity…

“Maybe I care less about the damn vest, and more about the person wearing it.”

The pinch in Steve’s brow lessens. “Oh,” he says, soft, and then a little of his usual bravado comes back when he asks, “you sure?”

Eddie waggles a hand back and forth. “Kinda. It’s borderline.”

Steve chuckles. He puts the bag down on his seat, very carefully, as if it’s breakable, and Eddie’s heart does a little skip.

“Well. I still feel bad,” Steve insists. His tone’s light, but he fixes Eddie with a pointed look, don’t test me on this, Munson, ‘cause my stubbornness will win.

“Okay,” Eddie concedes, hands up in surrender. “Tell you what, Steve. What if I wore something of yours, to make it even?”

Steve wrinkles his nose, but he’s smiling. “What, and deliberately mess it up?”

Eddie nods gravely. “Like, it’s not quite Upside Down conditions, but whenever I cook, it gets pretty close.”

Steve’s smile grows. He makes a show of turning around in search of something.

“Huh, I must’ve forgot to pack my wardrobe.”

Eddie clicks his tongue in theatrical disapproval. “Yeah, that’s a pretty big oversight, dude, should’ve thought it through.”

“Guess it’ll have to wait for next time.”

And yeah, they’re joking, but still. Eddie doesn’t want to tempt fate.

“Next time? Nah, I’m praying all this shit is a one time thing.”

“No, I meant—” Steve hesitates, like he’s inadvertently stepped out of the joke, and he doesn’t know where to go from here. “Like. Whenever you come round.”

“Is that an invitation?” Eddie says; he hopes the quip is enough to cover his surprise, the long-buried thought—ridiculously high school, but true in spite of it: no-one’s ever invited me to…

Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Oh, sorry, did you want it hand-written? The red carpet treatment?”

“Well, if you’re offering…”

“I’ll go get my quill,” Steve deadpans.

Eddie laughs. Says, only partly kidding, “It’s just, I’ll need some time to think it over.”

“The… invitation?”

“What item of clothing I’m taking, duh.”

“Right, yeah,” Steve scoffs, “major decision.”

“It is! You have whole ensembles, man.”

“Ensembles,” Steve echoes, but it’s got more of a French accent to it; Eddie suspects it’s a by-product of Steve helping Robin study, ‘cause she seems to be the only one who’s a polyglot in their contingent. “Get out of town, Munson.”

“Oh, like you don’t know. I swear, in winter, there’d be actual bets placed on what sweater you were gonna wear each day.”

“Uh-huh.”

Eddie hams it up, “Didn’t you wonder why so many girls were waiting to see you drive into school?”

“You’re an idiot,” Steve says, and he waves Eddie aside, about to jump out of the RV. “Lemme know when you’ve made your selection.”

Eddie knows he should leave it there. They’ve had their laughs, and it’s made to be forgotten about in the face of much more important things.

But that’s always been his problem, really. He can’t bite his tongue in time. He can’t help—

“The red one?”

Steve turns around, one foot off the step. “What?”

“The, uh…” Eddie clears his throat. It’s either say nothing or go all in. Fuck it, the shire’s burning. “I’ve decided what to—um. The red sweater?” Steve just keeps looking at him, so he adds, tentatively, “The one you’d wear near winter break?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I know the one you mean.” He falters on the verge of speech, his lips twitching into a surprised little smile. He drawls, “You sure you weren’t placing those bets yourself, Munson?”, but it doesn’t sound mean, and his ears suddenly look a little pink, and maybe, maybe—

“No comment,” Eddie says, aiming for comically flat, but Steve’s smile is contagious.

“Okay, it’s a deal.” Steve steps outside—throws over his shoulder, “It’s yours,” oddly sincere; and Eddie wonders if they’ve really been talking about clothes at all.

[livinginshambles]

I've got plans, sorry | James potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: James is whipped. He adores his girlfriend so much, to the point that it starts to bother his friends. His reaction to a confrontation about it with his friends is to completely pull away from you, always finding new excuses to avoid you, leaving you to try and approach him. When you overhear him trying to be cool under peer pressure and say that you're too clingy, you also start pulling away, using the same excuses.

Notes: Angst with a happy ending probably, I love happy endings. Established relationship, For plot purposes, Sirius will start off as an arse

Part two Masterlist

_____________________________

James Potter found himself a girlfriend, and it wasn't Lily Evans.

The news spread around faster than the Nimbus 1000 could fly and had everyone do a double take when they saw James strutting around, your books in one arm, held to his broad chest. His other arm holding you close.

"Everyone's staring," you whispered to James. His only reaction seemed to be walking even straighter than before, chest puffed out in pride, ready to show you off. "It's because you're breathtakingly gorgeous of course," he winked at you and you stiffled a laugh, shaking your arm and flipping a uno reverse up at him. He grinned and accepted the card, stuffing it up his own sleeve.

He had put in so much effort to get you to notice him, he almost couldn't believe it when you had eventually admitted that you fancied him back.

"Not sure why they all seem so surprised though." If you didn't know better, you would say that he sounded offended. "I mean, I've been fighting for your affection for quite a while now, right, Darling?"

He looked down to you for affirmation. "Well," you began. "You still flirted a lot with Lily, so I do get their confusion." You shrugged.

James pulled you to a stop, spun you around and pressed his lips to yours in an overly dramatic way. It had you giggling in the kiss. When you pulled away, he pulled you back to his chest, bringing you in for a hug.

You grunted at the sudden impact from your own chest at the pile of books he still held in front of him and laughed. "Hey!" You exclaimed and pressed your arm to your sore chest. "Let me help you with that, darling," he quickly offered with a wide grin. You playfully rolled your eyes at his excitement and grabby hands and swatted them away in amusement. You let him press you closer to his side, and he turned his head to kiss the top of yours.

"I'll show them how in love I am with you," he sighed happily in your hair.

You came to a stop where you two had to part ways, having picked different courses. James returned your books to you, and you left a sweet peck on his cheek.

You both walked to your classes, but not before looking back, meeting each other's eyes, a smile and a wink thrown in each other's direction.

James was always around you and vice versa, spending a great deal of your time with the marauders. You'd already been on good terms with Sirius, by which you meant that he knew your name, your own parents on his parents' payroll. You knew Peter who was your partner for your muggle studies class, and you had been friends with Remus ever since he had been kind enough to share his ink, paper and extra quill for taking notes during your first class of transfiguration. You had severely underestimated how much writing you would have to do in class instead of, you know, transfiguring. So you had sort of just joined the marauders, not that they seemed to mind. Or so you thought.

You were in the library as usual like every Thursday evening and were currently waiting for James, who hadn't shown up yet. In the past two hours and 20 minutes that you'd been waiting for him, you had already finished tomorrow's homework, as well as next week's. You looked at the gigantic clock, displaying the time. 20 minutes past eight.

'A little longer,' you told yourself. "Give him another 40 minutes."

But James wasn't going to be showing up for you anytime soon. Instead, he was in the boys' dormitory with the rest of the marauders, downing alcohol, cheered on by Sirius, trying to prove that he still valued their friendship.

Because when Sirius had complained to him about being a simp and never hanging out with just the guys anymore, he hadn't paid it any mind. He figured that he and Sirius simply had a different mindset now he had a girlfriend while Sirius was still ever the player that he was known for being.

When Remus told him that they seemed to have lost their friend, his attention had finally been caught. And when even Peter told him that he agreed with Sirius and Remus that he was too whipped and acting embarrassingly clingy, he had been all ears.

He had to admit after all, that they were right. There was almost never a moment when James wasn't holding on to you. He basically hovered around you and called out on it, he felt incredibly embarrassed. So there he was, drinking and completely forgetting about his study date with you.

When you figured he wasn't going to be showing up, you made your way to your dorm as well. Hey, at least you were productive. "Where's you bodyguard, L/N," Someone called after you and you shrugged it off.

You enjoyed spending time with James and his friends. Not really having many friends of your own due to the fact that you were taking classes of a year above you with James.

Your birthday was in November, you see. That meant that despite being born in the same year as James, you had waited another year before receiving your owl, not having been 11 yet the year before.

You had bought your books anyway and studied by yourself every evening after muggle school, your father teaching you during the weekends, all out of pure spite at the clearly flawed system.

After proving to be rather proficient during the first semester, you had been given the opportunity to get extra classes on the matter of the second years and moved to take classes with the second years during your second semester.

The cons of that, however, meant not really having any friends. You didn't share classes with your fellow dorm mates. You didn't share a dormitory with your fellow classmates.

So you enjoyed being with James, even if some people told you that you must surely find him too overbearing. This is why the fact that James was suddenly going out of his way to avoid you, hurt, simply put. Your eyes flashed with confusion, and a frown settled upon your face. You wondered if you'd upset him somehow.

"James!" You called out, making your way up to him. You tried not to sigh out loud at the relief that he had actually stopped and turned around to face you. "Hey stranger," you awkwardly laughed with a mini wave. James shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to come in for a kiss, really. But he also knew that Sirius and Remus were waiting for him. He looked back and saw them wave him over.

"Uh, it's Thursday." You managed to say, noticeably quieter than before. You had seen him look around and you wondered. 'Was he embarrassed by you?'

James definitely knew what you were implying but chose to play dumb anyway.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, uh, are you- do you want to join me in the library tonight?" Because you didn't show up last week and haven't mentioned it at all. You didn't say that last part, but James knew what you meant.

"I've got plans, sorry," he breathed out, instantly wanting to bash his head against a wall. 'Coward,' he thought. Though his friends, and mainly Sirius had made fun of him when he was with you, he didn't have to outright lie to you.

He reached his hand out to you, ready to take it back when you had already smiled and nodded. "Oh yeah, sure." You gave him a toothy grin, turned on your heels, and walked away, letting your face fall in disappointment when your back was turned towards James.

James' stretched out arm fell limp to his side and he walked over to his friends, but not before looking back at you as usual. His step faltered when you didn't look back and hastily disappeared behind the corner.

Sirius slapped an arm around James' shoulder. "Let's go Prongs, I've got the best idea for a prank." Remus sighed. That's not what he had meant for to happen.

The following two weeks were spent with you, trying to spend time with your boyfriend and said boyfriend giving out all types of excuses as to why he was really really busy and absolutely had no time for you. Quidditch practice, detention, planned pranks that he definitely couldn't miss out on, the new emergence of "boy's night", other plans, helping Sirius with something, Remus isn't feeling well, you name it.

(Though you did have the slightest feeling that he had been truthful about the last one. It had been the beginning of the full moon after all, and you weren't stupid.)

"Sorry Darling, I've got-"

"-plans, yes, I know." You smiled tightly at him.

"I'm-"

"-sorry. I know that too." And with that, you walked off, shaking your head. 'You love him,' you reminded yourself with a sigh as you walked towards the library. Almost reaching it, you changed your mind and retreated to your room instead. You weren't feeling like studying today.

"Should've gone to the library instead," you murmured to yourself through gritted teeth as you were woken up by the slamming of the door of the common room. You groaned, summoned all your courage and rolled yourself over, falling of the bed and sitting up dazed. Always effective, that method.

You walked down the stairs when you froze at your name.

"Y/N just doesn't know how to leave you alone, right Prongs?" You knew the voice belonged to Sirius.

"Yeah well, I haven't been spending a lot of time with her, lately," James admitted and the corners of your lips lifted in a soft smile.

"Well, it's still weird. Why doesn't she find her own friends to hang out with anyway?"

"She doesn't have that many," James answered, trying to defend you without directly calling you a loner, but Sirius picked up on it.

"Just because she doesn't have any friends of her own, doesn't mean she needs to interrupt you from spending time with your own, right?"

Remus had been listening and finally looked up from his book. He let his eyes flicker between his two friends. "I'm her friend," he spoke up. Bless him.

Sirius huffed. "You don't count. That's charity work."

"Hey, that's mean, Pads." Remus defended you.

You felt slapped in the face. Though thankful that Remus denied it, your eyes started watering at the fact that James didn't and you sat down on the stairs. A deep frown settled between your eyebrows and a hurt expression in your eyes. You should've turned around, but couldn't help but continue to listen in on their conversation.

"Alright, fine, I was just joking, Moony." Sirius held up his hands in surrender. "But you guys have to admit that she's super clingy," he added.

Even Remus couldn't deny that. You had been clinging to James, or trying to at least, ever since he abruptly started avoiding you for whatever reason you didn't know.

James hummed a little in agreement, choosing his words carefully. "Yeah, she's kind of high maintenance. Like, she needs a lot of attention, I guess. I mean, I've tried to subtly let her know that she's clingy, but she's not really getting the hint." Maybe not that carefully after all.

Your mouth was agape.

"Still my girlfriend though Padfoot, and I'm in love with her, so shut it," he gave Sirius a pointed look and with that, the matter was done for them. For you, very much not the case.

You swallowed, not comforted by his last words at all. Your throat felt dry and you hurried back to your room.

At first James was relieved by your lack of approaching him. It meant he didn't have to feel like crap every time he excused himself. But then time passed and James was missing you. 'How do you even miss your girlfriend, who you spend 24/7 with by being in the same boarding school?' He incredulously thought to himself.

But somehow you had managed to escape his sight. Aside from during class, in which you were partnered up with a scrawny Ravenclaw boy who excelled in potions class, called Wylan, as he had heard from Peter, he never saw you anywhere else. Not in the corridors, not in the Great Hall, not in the courtyard, not even in the library at your usual spot.

"Y/N!" He called out to you when he finally did spot you. You didn't seem to hear him and he moved faster. He slipped past a group of slow paced students who were taking up the entire corridor by walking next to each other- 'bloody hell' -and stopped in front of you, blocking your path.

You looked up at him in surprise. A weird feeling in your stomach. Maybe a mixture of adoration and discomfort at the same time. You hadn't decided what you wanted to do with the information from James' conversation because you didn't want to lose James, but also felt hurt. So you decided to just... postpone a confrontation.

"It's uh, it's been a while," he weakly smiled at you. You hummed in agreement.

"Yeah, I've been really busy." You mustered up a smile.

James nodded. 'Everything was fine. You were busy. That's all.' He tried to tell himself. But your eyes didn't crinkle like they did when you actually smiled. Your smile not wide enough to get you to wince at the pulling feeling of the small crust on your lower lip where you always bit your lip.

He cleared his throat. "I thought we could maybe go to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" He offered you a lopsided grin and watched your expression turn apologetic.

"I- I've got plans, sorry," you whispered.

"Oh, right." James had a funny feeling in his stomach. What plans? With who? You didn't have other friends right? Or maybe you made some because he'd been ignoring you? His mind was racing.

"Monday?" He tried again.

He watched, a pit in his stomach forming when you shook your head hesitantly. "Tutoring third years," you said, avoiding his piercing gaze.

"O- Okay, you let me know when you have time alright?" He finally settled on.

"Yeah, sure." The lack of enthusiasm in your answer didn't go unnoticed by James.

It was quiet for a long moment. "So I should just-" you pointed with your thumb behind you, signaling that you were going to go.

"Yeah, of course, places to be," he awkwardly put his thumb up and internally screamed at himself. 'Thumbs up? Really?'

He watched you leave, shoulders slumped.

Preview if interested

Here is part two

[sunder-soul]

hiii cud u pl do a headcanon/oneshot where its a muggleborn reader who smhow ends up befriending the tom riddle who always seems to soft only to her, including tolerating her sassy attitude and its a study session together and they're bantering or summin? i think it wud be nice. thank you!

A/N: Girl I gotchu

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

Unsaid

Summary: By now you've got a pretty good idea why you're friends with Tom, but sometimes, when it comes up, you wonder why he's friends with you. [GN reader ★ no pronouns ★ Hufflepuff house (but ngl it doesn't really come up u just gotta trust me)] Word count: 1.2k

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

“I’m dropping out,” you announce, dumping your bag on the table and falling emphatically into the seat adjacent to Tom’s.

Tom, for his part, does not look up. His quill doesn’t even hesitate as he writes in a smooth, unbroken script across his parchment. Instead, he says: “Your bag is on my book.”

You shove it unenthusiastically to the side to reveal the open textbook he’s been working from, and then fix him with a pointed look. Tom is set up in the same little spot in the library as always, his bag at his feet and at least ten other books neatly stacked off to the side of the table. He looks (as Tom always looks) like the poster boy of adhering to the uniform dress code.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what’s wrong?” you say, slightly put out.

“I would not bother,” he says simply, leaning forward and dipping his quill in a small inkwell in front of him. “I’ve come to accept the inevitability of you telling me all sorts of things I don’t care to hear about, whether I ask about them or not.”

He resumes writing.

You kick his chair leg lightly and his quill skips sharply down the page, leaving a jolted line about an inch long off where he’d been writing the word putrescence.

This finally makes him look up, fixing you with a supremely irritated glare that’s made his whole face go tense.

You lean your elbows on the table and smile at him.

Tom’s jaw works slightly, and he takes a long breath. “What’s wrong?” he asks sarcastically.

“Well,” you say as he puts down his quill and bends to pick up his bag. “In Herbology this morning when we were cracking Wiggentree nuts, Lucy Grollen had this horrible allergic reaction and her feet swelled up so much that her shoes burst.”

“And this affects you how?” Tom drawls, diligently rubbing a Spellfriends eraser across his parchment.

You give him a scandalised look. “She’s my friend, Tom.”

He gives you a very dry look and then flips the eraser over to the purple side. “I hardly think you’d be tempted to leave the school because your friend is allergic to nuts.”

“Well she’s also my greenhouse partner,” you say dramatically, throwing yourself back in your seat, “and because she had to go to the hospital wing I had to finish the rest of the assignment alone­, and obviously by the end of class I didn’t have all our nuts cracked so Beery made me stay late to finish them. And that meant that I missed the sign up for the fieldtrip to the Menagerie of Mirabilia.”

Tom throws down the eraser and exhales in frustration. The ink remains unmoved. “You have been talking about that fieldtrip for six weeks,” he says in a clipped tone, pulling his wand from his bag. “And I have been telling you for six weeks that it was going to fill up quickly. Evanesco.”

The eraser shavings on his parchment vanish and leave both of you staring at the tenacious line of ink—which if anything, now just looks a little smudged.

His little comment about the whole six weeks thing has not left you feeling very sympathetic for him. “Wow. You have got to tell me what kind of ink you buy,” you say with a smirk as Tom tosses his wand onto the desk in frustration.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” he says hotly, folding his arms and finally looking at you properly as he leans back in his chair. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“What happened with the fieldtrip?” he prompts irritably.

“Oh – so as I’m sure you remember, I promised Madeline I’d go with her on the fieldtrip because she’s obsessed with magizoology at the moment, so then I had to tell her I wasn’t going, and she was so upset, and I couldn't stop thinking about it because I felt so bad. So then I was really distracted in Transfiguration and of course Dumbledore notices and asks me to recite the whole definition of Amandation’s Command in front of everybody.” You sigh loudly. “So I can’t do it because I hadn't been paying attention, but then he points to the board and the definition is written right there and I just hadn’t noticed, and everyone laughed at me.”

You cross your arms too, feeling sorry for yourself. “The only solution is to drop out,” you reiterate moodily.

“This is one of your jokes,” says Tom delicately.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Yes well spotted.”

“You’ve ruined my assignment,” he says, nodding at it.

“You ruined your own assignment. With your callousness.”

Rather surprisingly, Tom snorts a laugh. “I would loathe to be my friend, to hear you describe it,” he says with suspicious ease as he extracts a new roll of parchment from his bag. “It begs the question as to why you persevere.”

“Very occasionally, you do something really nice,” you say, watching him with suspicion. Tom’s irritability rarely fades this quickly. “I just kind of zone out all the bits in-between where you’re weird and sarcastic.”

“Weird and sarcastic?” Tom repeats, lips curling. “Have you been listening to yourself since you sat down?”

“My life is ruined, and you’re worried about an assignment.”

“Your life is not ruined,” he says monotonously as he begins diligently copying over his work.

“I’m upset about this and all you care about is telling me that it’s not a big deal!”

Tom sighs curtly and looks up at you, leaning forward a bit and resting his forearms on the desk. “Your life is not ruined. Lucy Groggen is going to be fine, Wiggentree nut allergies are fairly common and the reaction doesn’t last more than an hour, the worst she’ll have to deal with is buying a new pair of shoes. Beery should never have made you complete a two-person task by yourself and it’s ridiculous that he kept you late because of his own poor class management. If Dumbledore was half the teacher that he claims to be, he might have noticed that you were upset about something and think to ask you about it, but his mistake is made all the more egregious given that he chose to single you out in front of the whole class with what sounds like a very silly little trick. And I wouldn’t worry about upsetting Madeline if I were you, because I signed you up for the fieldtrip.”

He resumes writing without another word. You stare at him, dumbfounded. A full ten seconds passes before you can rouse yourself to speak again.

“You signed me up for the fieldtrip?

Tom’s eyes remain level on his work—he’s writing at lightning speed like he’s trying to make up for the lost time. “You have been talking about it for six weeks. It seemed odd that you failed to show up.”

You look at your bag still lying dejectedly on the table in front of you and attempt to process the glowy, warm feeling spreading up through your chest. “Thanks,” you say blandly.

He just looks up at you with a glint in his eyes about halfway between wry and cynical.

“I feel bad about your assignment,” you announce.

Tom slowly smiles, this time very wryly indeed. “You have certainly changed your tune.”

You grab your bag and pull out your water bottle, placing it emphatically on the desk beside him.

Tom’s dark eyes flick from it to you, and he lifts a brow. “Is this supposed to mean something to me?”

“You have to wet a Spellfriends for it to work,” you mumble, folding your arms and resting forward on the desk.

He stares at you in a sort of frozen state of disbelief. “You mean you let me suffer through all of that for absolutely no reason?” he demands in half-subdued outrage.

“There was a reason!” you protest, smiling at him again. “It was funny.”

He blinks once, and then snatches the drink bottle off the desk, shaking his head. “You are extremely irritating,” he says icily, twisting the bottle open.

“Huh, sounds like a nightmare being my friend to hear you describe it,” you parrot back at him with a grin. “One wonders why you persevere, Tom.”

Tom pauses, and instead of the scathing look of irritation or perhaps a biting remark back, he just looks at you with an unplaceable expression like you’ve caught him off guard.

“What?” you frown, sitting up a little in concern.

Tom blinks slightly and then holds out his hand. “Pass me the Spellfriends,” he says colourlessly.

You arch a brow right back at him, and retrieve the eraser from where it’s been lying discarded for the last few minutes in front of you. “If you were wondering what I meant by the weird part in weird and sarcastic…” you say to him pointedly, placing it in his hand.

Tom silently erases the offending ink stain with a taut jaw and an irascible look darkening his eyes.

“Hey,” you say.

He ignores you entirely, sweeping the fresh shavings off his parchment and setting the eraser aside.

“Hey,” you repeat, reaching out and taking his arm.

Tom’s gaze immediately flashes to you and he goes entirely still.

“Thank you,” you tell him sincerely. “For the field trip.”

He does not immediately reply. A second later his lips part like he’s going to say something, but they close like he thinks better of it. He blinks, and then pulls his arm from yours to reach for another book. “Are you intending on actually doing work this evening, or was this visit’s entire premise just to disrupt me?”

You roll your eyes, and reach for your bag again with a smile.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

[eccentricallygothic]

Mine.

Description: Embry is secure in your relationship, but you are too perfect for anyone to be able to resist your attractiveness.

Pairing: Alpha!Embry Call | Omega!Reader. 

Warning(s): Slight insecurity, jealousy, Embry is in LOVE, reader is kind of a dummy, kissing, possessiveness, slight top reader, manhandling, hair pulling, groping, pinching, unprotected p-in-v, smut with plot I am afraid, rubbing/grinding, dick riding, doggy style, missionary, imprinting and a/b/o stuff, breeding kink, dirty talk, d/s dynamics (it's me), overstimulation. MDNI.

Type: Request, here.

. . . 

“Gee, it's hot today” Leah huffs as she approaches Emily's dining table whilst tugging down her tank top with one hand and fanning herself with the other. “Even by my standards.” Some of you are already sitting down and the rest are divided in little groups that tinker about in the pack leader's house. A few groans of agreement sound around the table and you snort, your fingers busy with tuning your guitar. “It's literally like I am on fire” she gulps down the icy lemonade your undisputed hostess has prepared for the lot of you. “Fuck, I am so hot” she pinches the material of her tanktop before tugging it back and forth to try and bring herself some solace. 

You shrug, eyes set on the pegs that you twist and adjust as you lean some of your body weight onto your mate who reclines on his own chair beside you and munches on a hot muffin, unbothered by your doing so. He has told you time and time again that he likes it, actually. “Agreed” you do not notice how the table goes silent and everyone turns to look at you. Even Leah's eyes widen a bit though this is nothing new. You're plagued with the curse of being an effortless flirt. Your mate had his fair share of (pleasant) surprises in the beginning and often even mistook what was a mere response to you for you being bold. “Very hot” your eyes briefly bounce from the machine heads to scan over her tense form and the female in question flushes. 

Paul and Jake howl in the crass way typical to them and the others chuckle. 

“See, you're doing it again!” Seth points an accusatory finger at you and you just snort before you shake your head and look down at your guitar again. 

“No, I am not” it is always an argument between others, especially Seth, and you that you subconsciously flirt. “It's a fact” barks sound around the table once more and you scoff at them, muttering reassurances to yourself that you only meant to compliment her. 

“I mean, you're not so bad yourself, sparkle” you roll your eyes at Jared's lewd smirk and his use of the corny ass nickname the pack has chosen for you. 

Your beautiful fur is so shiny that it sparkles as though it has been dusted with glitter, hence the name.

“Dude” Jake chimes in. “Totally agreed. You're both totally hot” you don't look up to the nods of approval that follow. 

“Like, excuse my French or whatever but,” uh oh, it's never good when Paul starts a sentence like that. He waves both his hands as he tilts his head back, adding heavy moments of suspense to his intentional silence. “I wouldn't say no to a little Leah and sparkle salad” Seth retches as his features scrunch in disgust but most of the other guys howl in agreement and cheer. You feel Embry stiffen beside you but he keeps his composure and hides his disapproval into the soft muffin because he knows Paul well enough to know that this is one of his intentional attempts at eliciting a reaction by being profane. He loves to provoke until it's his turn. 

“Dude!” Seth groans, one hand on his stomach. “Why are you like this?!” His eyes scrunch. “Ugh!” 

“Would be a sight to behold though—” Quill is cut off by Sam.

“Hey!” The Leader calls out across the table in his heavy and authoritative voice when his fiance gently nudges his shoulder to get the horndogs to stop. They are a family, yes, but an Alpha's patience isn't to be toyed with especially if his mate is in question. “That's enough” though it is not nearly as scary as Sam can get since there is a small smile on his own face, everyone still instantly shuts up all the same.

You are not really bothered because you only have eyes for your dear Alpha who has subconsciously snuck an arm around your back to feel you even closer to yourself. You finish up with your guitar and although reluctant, play a couple tunes upon Emily's request and everyone takes turns singing snippets that fit the melodies your fingers produce. 

Hours pass and it is only after dinner that you all set out for your own homes. “So long, hottie~” Embry and you are already a couple feet away from Sam and Emily's house, hand in hand while he carries your guitar for you, when you hear Paul and Jake whistle from behind. 

You snicker but don't look back and instead raise your free hand to wave them goodbye before the two of you take the turn that leads to your own house. 

The two of you walk in the comfortable silence of your dynamic for half of the way, relaxing in each other's presence after a stimulating day as your entwined fingers rock back and forth. It is only when the house appears in your line of sight after another turn and walking past a couple heavy trees when Embry speaks up, pondering and calculating with his words. 

“They're too much.” 

You chuckle and lean into him a little. “Or maybe…” You shrug before glancing at him. “It’s me” a teasing smile tugs at your lips as his eyebrows furrow. 

Ever the loving and supportive mate and lover, Embry rushes to reassure you. “No, no, baby” he lightly shakes his head for emphasis. “All you did was compliment her, angel. It's not you” his fingers tighten over yours in earnest.

“Yeah?” You raise a playful eyebrow, amused. 

“Yeah” he chooses to ignore it because he knows what you're trying to do and since he swears that he is not a territorial jerk, he refuses to give in. He is not ‘like the other Alphas’, if you will. “The guys just…” He carefully chooses his words. “They're—”

“You do know that I am yours, right? No matter what anyone says on purpose or accident, you are the only one I want and you are the only one my heart belongs to” you cradle his hand that you hold to your heart as you ascend the steps to your house. 

Usually, he doesn't even let it come to this. “Yeah…” But he needs it from time to time even if he assures you that he doesn't, granted how you steal the very air from everyone in the most natural of states.

“Yeah?” You stop to stare at him, one eyebrow raised and a hand curled around the door handle but you don't open it just yet, your smile deepening into a smirk.

You can hear his inward groan. “Yes” his red ears tell you everything you need to know. Gosh, you love how he isn't a typical violent, brooding and impulsive Alpha like Paul or some others you know. “Let's just—” you interrupt his weak attempt at reassurance with a kiss. 

You pull back just for a second to look at him. 

“You don't have to do this because of that, you know? It's really fine. It's not your fault the guys are the way they are and I know you don't mean it like that because—” you interrupt his ramblings with a click of your tongue.

You appreciate Embry's understanding nature, but you cannot help the thrill you feel when he gets possessive or insecure over you.

It makes you feel wanted and treasured.  

“You talk too much sometimes, you know?” Your mouth collides into his and your lips melt against his, the fluttering warm feeling making him groan into the kisses that grow heated with the passing second. You peel the guitar off of him as you pull him through the threshold and walk him into the couch while passionately kissing him after kicking the door closed with one heel. You put a heavy hand on his nape to keep him from digressing again. It does not actually do much to affect him but he lets you have your way, a whimper leaving him when you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip.

“I— I—” he blinks to get a grip of himself when you pull away, his heavy pants only firing you up even more because of how worked up he looks and feels. Your omega heat rushes to their confines in different pockets of your body and as the first of your pearly slick trickles down your thigh, you begin to push at his chest and keep at it until his heavy form lands on the couch. “Baby, it's really—” you crawl his huge body and his hands instantly dart to your legs to feel and grope your tender skin. You moan and grind against his erection. 

You can feel he is holding back and that only provokes you even more.

You shush him by ghosting a seductive finger over his lips. His Adam's apple violently bobs at you doing so. “Haven't done that in a while, have I?” Your whisper is the kind of whisper that makes blood rush to his cock and his hips lift to find relief against yours. “So allow me…” You lower yourself until your lips touch the area under his nose and you give him a chaste kiss before moving down to his pink lips. Embry whimpers out a growl and his fingers flex over your thighs before snaking their way to your ass. Your lips leave sloppy kisses along his jaw and you soon reach his ear to let out a sensual little breath that always churns all his gears. “To remind you” he inaudibly curses as his erection twitches against your spread core and he squeezes your ass tightly. 

“Y- You don't have to…” He looks for ways to reason with you but you take it away by nipping at his earlobe before trapping it between your lips and pulling a good suck out of it. You hum as your slick further gushes down your inner thighs and you feel it pool between your spread legs. 

He may not be an Alpha who loses his head to insecurity but the rare occasion he does or is made to by you is always so fun.

“Oh, but I want to, babe” you say and he lets out a moan at the purr that comes out of your throat. You straddle his waist, your legs spread over him and your dripping core rubbing over his shorts. He firmly holds you against him and rocks against you to match your slow pace. You moan into his mouth as you kiss him and pull at the hem of his tank top. Your fingers curl around it and you pull the thin material off of his beautifully tan and sculpted body, letting it fall somewhere behind him. The two of you gasp and pant into your fevered kisses as you press your bodies against each other's to feel even closer. The heat sizzles out of his slightly damp skin due to how his blood boils and the way in which the bare skin sticks to yours makes you shudder and moan into his mouth that he fills with his tongue. 

“Mmmm” your mouth deviates to his neck and you leave a trail of kisses and bites down to his collarbone and over his pectorals. His hands scramble to feel every inch of your exposed back and you whimper, rocking your hips as you drag your tongue along his chest and Embry growls loudly. 

His resolve is weakening. 

Good.

Your tongue continues to paint wet trails over Embry's torso while enjoying his woody sweat and he shivers when your mouth ghosts over his nubs and you peck them just slightly. He swears he doesn't like that kinda stuff but the erection doesn't lie. You cannot resist the impulse to bite his Adam's Apple next and you hear him hiss out a groan, his whole body tightening under yours, in sync with his needy cock. You feel his fingers dig into your spine as though he wants to pull you completely open for himself and you moan into the suck you have clamped on his neck. It gets increasingly hurried. It is messy. It is hot. And you are going to leave your mark on him for he is just as much yours as you are his. 

The two of you seem drunk on one another's scent and pheromones, your bodies in a desperate need to devour one another's. 

Your hand cups the tent in his shorts and you rub and massage it through the fabric. “Gosh, I love you so much” Embry huffs out a groan as he looks at you with eyes heavy with both arousal and affection. “You're so fuckin’ hot, baby” tingles flutter all over your abdomen and your lips part from how the grinding of your cunt feels against his rigid member. “So perfect.”

You smile mischievously as you push back on your heels and slide his shorts down his toned legs that he aids with a life of his hips. A loud smack sounds in the air because of the way cock springs up, hard and glistening with precum and collides with the taut muscles of his belly and your mouth waters at the way it twitches, your nose tingles because you can smell his arousal all the way from where you are and your petals flutter when fresh, pearly slick bubbles out of the tip. 

But you are not quite done yet. 

Embry's hand reaches to stroke himself but you click your tongue as if he is a misbehaving child and gently nudge it away with your own. As an Omega, you don't usually get like this despite everyone pining over you and your mate doting on you all the time and the Alpha's surprised gaze signals that he is equal parts taken aback and turned on with the knowledge that you are a small little thing compared to him, completely dependent upon his mercy if it comes to it, but his bestowing of a free hand upon you allows you to act liberally and even then you choose to serve him.

“Not so fast” your words are an entrancing lull. Embry huffs but keeps his hand away from his aching cock and you begin to sensually undress yourself. You are not a professional or anything so you don't have that kind of edge to it, but your heat tends to make the art of seduction a very effortless second nature matter to you. The Alpha growls and needily reaches for you instead this time around, his fingers kneading the soft skin of your hips as he begins to help you by pulling at your clothes. The primal action of his nature makes you yelp with a gasp at first but it melts into quiet giggles and then whimper-moans soon enough. Your tank top comes off first and his eyes take their sweet time enjoying your chest as you heave for him in response to his touch, your nipples pebbling because of how sensitive your body is. Embry looks at them hungrily and he swallows audibly, his heavy, wanton breaths weighing down his urge to wrap his mouth around them. Since he can't act on that impulse, his fingers hurriedly help you rid yourself of your pants and they pool around your ankles before you kick them away. 

You smirk to yourself as you see the glazed look on his face, his cock twitching on his belly as his heavy chest heaves with want. The Alpha's dark eyes trace the curves of your hips and follow the shape of your waist until he finds your dripping cunt that shines with slick. 

“Fuck” Embry groans and his hips jerk in sync with his twitching erection. “Fuck, baby” he looks like he is going to come just by looking at you.

Which means he is getting desperate.

Good. 

“Tsk” letting out an amused snort, you place your smaller hands against his broad shoulders to push them back as his huge form is looming in your direction and as he moves back, you move forwards until you have climbed him and the undersides of your thighs are straddling his laps, your feet on either side of him and knees bending to get as close to him as possible. You let your weight go because Embry's strong legs supporting it has never been an issue. As a matter of fact, he has confessed time and time again that he rather likes how you press down on him like his good little Omega baby. 

“Mmm” your teeth clamp down on your lower lip as you begin to rub your soaked and thumping folds all over his erection and the way his eyes widen in shock and pleasure as your wet cunt glides over his cock only makes you grind harder in anticipation of what would come next. 

“You like that, baby?” He is still an Alpha, he needs to assert himself somehow so his wolf can remain assured of its ownership and power over you.

“Mmm, Alpha, you're so good!” It only takes a few grinds and you're cumming, your walls clenching and your slick dripping onto his belly and thighs. “Fuck” you moan out a curse of your own though you know he doesn't like you using that kind of language when he is in his Alpha space, your cunt pulsates with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You sit on his thighs and lean back on your hands as you catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed and little whines leaving you from his dick slightly grazing against your petals and twitching. Your heat completely takes over at that point and your body becomes a living inferno.

You aren't like most people or Omegas. Your body reaches its optimum only after you have cum once. Because you love to chase and be made to find your release through the stinging thumps and frustration of overstimulation.

You feel Embry's cock squish against your slick drenched thigh and you look down at it. His growing knot is so big that it seems to rest over your tender lap like a dangerous serpent. “Baby” his hands trace along your hips and your waist, his thumbs tracing your sides. “Can I?” 

He is cracking. 

And though your nature grows the haze of submissiveness in your mind, you only rock your ass harder on his girth.

You can't say anything but just stare down at him like you are entranced, a primal silence engulfing you where it is only instinct and nothing else. Your heart pounds in your ears. It's like a thousand thoughts bolt around in your brain all at once and yet your mind holds onto each one for eternities. Need pulls at your limbs from every direction. 

“I need to feel you, baby” he pleads and you just wordlessly nod, one hand flying to clutch his shoulder tightly. Embry's eyes light up, his hands instantly lifting your ass and sliding your cunt down the length of his cock.

Just to make you cry out, he jerks his cock into you with a jab of his hips, the sensation making him let out a groan and you a mewl, the omega in you shuddering from the sensitivity and yet obediently taking him. Your walls flutter as you feel yourself stretch to fit his girth and you look down to see how your flesh takes him. His cock fills you to the brim and you are filled with an indescribable sensation of fullness that only Embry can give you, the velvet of your insides stirring against his hard girth. 

In mere moments, you're so full that you can't decide whether it is good or painful. Perhaps both. Your core is so wet that you can feel his cock drown in your slick because of the sloshing sounds your riding it -which is essentially Embry carefully moving you about it because his cock is not a joke to accommodate- makes. When you are comfortable, you begin to speed up your movements with the passing second, your ears and heart pounding with nearly unbearable fireballs running wild in your blood. 

“Gosh” Embry pants and a gasp leaves him when you slide down a certain way and knock the breath right out of him, your ass bouncing against his heavy sack and the visual of your boobs jumping doesn't help him. You know you must be a sight to look at. Your knees rock into his toned thighs and you clutch his hard shoulders, panting like a crazed animal as you wince from the painful pleasure. It wouldn't be the first time that you transformed mid fuck because it was too much for you to handle. “Look at you” he groans out raspily, his throat parched. “So fucking beautiful, angel” his long fingers grip your ass to keep you on the rhythm even if your Omega sensitivity makes you falter because some thrusts often get too much for you and your form lops to the side. His hands run all over your hips, your stomach, your breasts and the back of your head, his trimmed nails feeling your delicate nape before they reach to tangle in your locks and your scalp stings from the gentle tug.  

Your body is afloat on pheromone and sensation alike, your skin melts into Embry's golden touch that desperately feels every inch of your body. His grips on you turn harsher when your walls pulsate around him and the way he pulls you to him makes your entrance seethe out bubbling pearly slick down his cock, the angel puddle pooling down on his balls. Every movement sends sparks of pleasure through your core and up your spine. 

“Alpha!” Your teeth sink into your tongue because of how you tense in response to his fingers cupping your mound before his rough thumb tickles your clit. Your droopy eyes fly open as you let yourself feel every inch of him and every flicker of pleasure that your body sends to your brain. “Oh my Goshhh” you whimper out his name as you cum once more, the muscles of your thighs convulsing from the tightly shut dam that trembles free in your loins. Your cunt clamps around his cock and you feel him groan out at the feeling of his own high approaching.

His resolve finally snaps at the feeling of your hot orgasm and he lets out a growl so loud it nearly shakes the walls of the house. Your fucked out brain is too dazed to catch up with how he spins you around on his cock and moves the two of you so you're kneeling in front of the living room coffee table. Your elbows find the tabletop and his hands hook under your hips. He presses his cock into you and pulls your ass back and up so that his cock buries itself to the hilt in your dripping pussy. You feel it push against the swollen, reluctant walls of your cunt and a scream rips from your lips at the sensation. 

Embry pulls out and slams himself back in with a loud slap of skin against skin. His hand comes down on your ass cheek with a loud slap that makes you cry out, your cunt tries to close itself against him.

“Yes, Alpha!” Yet you mewl, wanting more. “Gimme your cum, please!” You tilt your head to look back at him with hazy eyes to urge him on with a lustful widening of your mouth and he stares back with his darkened and blown out eyes.

You are a mess of pure wanton. 

The Alpha lets out a hoarse groan as he watches the way you take his cock. “Fucking hell, baby” he pants. “You little tease” his hips jerk against yours and your breasts bounce over your arms as he fucks into your cunt. Your insides stiffen around his girth in a way that makes your head spin upon his tip fighting its way closer and closer to your cervix and you cannot help but let out a series of frenzied whimper-moans.

“Don't do it on purpose, do you?” His voice is primal and dangerous. “Is that why you provoke me into claiming you after? Huh, you little brat?!” He scolds and starts to firmly jack hammer his cock into your pussy, on the verge of his own climax and so fast that you almost feel like you're on the edge of passing out from the sensory overload.

It doesn't matter if his words are true or not. 

They always get the both of you off.

And when an Alpha and Omega are left to their devices, the sex is the only thing that has to make sense.

And that it does.

So much.

“You're going to milk me dry, my little Omega slut” Embry pants out a guttural order and you moan at how he snakes a ripped arm to the front of your body and slams you back into his toned chest. Your head falls back on his shoulder and you faintly register his fingers feeling up the expanse of your neck. He pounds into you so hard it feels as though he is hitting your uterus with every snap of his hips, your smaller body bouncing on his cock like a straw doll with each thrust. His whole cock sheaths balls deep into your tight slick coated walls before he pulls out all the way until his tip is barely probing you. Your slick drips from where you two are connected down to the both of your thighs and knees. He grabs your hair and tilts your head until your body arches in the way he likes and your nipples point up at the ceiling from the wave of excitement and arousal that an imaginative construction of the visual of your bodies washes over you. “You're mine, you hear me?” He snarls as your marked mating gland comes to light and he wraps your hair around his fingers to keep it out of his way. Embry's mouth clamps down onto the canine scarred patch and he suckles at it like a starved predator, his sharp teeth fitting right into the crevices they created once upon a time ago. Your whole body jolts from the impact and you clench. 

Fuck, it feels good.

“Ohhh—” your body curves outwards and you cry out in ecstacy. “Yes! Yours!” You moan out with a throaty voice. “Only yours, Alpha!” you tremble and send vibrations down his cock as a result, the sensation making him growl into your mating gland and lighting you up all over again. 

“I'm going to fill you up with my cum until your pretty little pussy it so stuffed it can't take or feel anymore” he growls while trapping your waist between his arms, the confinement causing your insides to feel his cock even more vividly and you cannot help but scream for mercy as he bends the both of you over the tabletop to fuck you into the piece of furniture, roughly pushing one of your legs up so it hangs over the edge closest to you and thus giving him even deeper access against your cervix. 

But that's the best thing about having the anatomy of an Omega, it doesn't hurt when he fucks into your womb. Matter of fact, your kind is made to take cocks like that without any kind of damage. And it feels fucking amazing. 

Your brain cannot think anymore. All you can do is feel as your eyes flutter close from the dignity numbing fuck.

Your mind is completely taken over by him as he bruises up your claim mark. It has a feeling of its own. When he gets to toying with it, he doesn't have to tickle your clit anymore because his touching your mating gland elicits such sensations in your body that they heat your clit up as if it's being rubbed silly with a tangible object though it's actually not.  

Embry does not relent until he has cum inside of you a number of times, your head being too fucked out and fuzzy to keep track. His hot seed fills you up so much that it spills out of you true to his promise. You are completely drained when he finishes with you and you hang from the table limply, his cock still pulsing inside of your exhausted cunt. You think it's over and so you begin to dimly yearn for the warmth of the bath he will run you now.

Well.

Jokes on poor little you.

“What?” He chuckles as he turns you on his fat knot once more so you face him, his fingers grabbing a handful of your slick and cum covered ass once more. “Done already, are we?” You numbly blink up at him, brain out of commission.

“H- Huh?” You blink to try and clear your neon vision, trembling hands blindly tapping about for him when he patiently waits for you to respond. 

He chuckles and effortlessly lifts you off the table, his knot swollen between your walls in a bittersweet tuck.

“Up we go, baby” you feel his hands run up your thighs and your back before he walks towards the bedroom while holding you in his arms and on his cock. You moan as his dick rubs against your walls because of the movement, your pussy dripping your mixed juices all over the place. Each step makes his cock stir your stinging insides.

“Shit” Embry curses under his breath at the sight of your shivering body. “Your cunt is still so wet and tight, baby” his fingers slip away from your ass as he plops you down on the bed and his cock slips out of your cunt, the empty feeling of loss making you whine despite the overstimulation. “So pretty and raw pink too” he lets out a chuckle, dark eyes watching you while his long fingers caress his cock. It's his turn to tease now. Your cum oozes out of you in a stream and coats the mattress in a pearlescent puddle as you cannot do much but lay there panting like a bitch in heat -which you are-, your legs dangling from the edge of the bed, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip in anticipation. 

“Maybe children will finally wise you up, huh baby?” He says as he turns to get you some water from the bedside table. “And just maybe, you won't ‘unintentionally’ flirt like a clumsy little Omega baby then” realization hits you like a gong.

He is only replenishing you for…

Though you whimper and pout up at him, too submissive to complain, you feel tiny flames of excitement come to life within you once more. 

Fuck. 

You are obedient in how he pushes you further up on the bed so he can crawl over you like the predator he is. And he spreads your legs open to make you completely and comfortably accessible to himself because you got a long night to go. Embry needs to make you marked and loud enough for everyone to see tomorrow and hear tonight just who you belong to. 

Next his manly hands move your ankles to his shoulders and he pats your petals with his heavy tip to make your fleshy folds shrivel and tremble in the way he likes, the thumping bringing them back into commissioner. Soon after, his cock sinks into you once more and he takes a hold of your sticky thighs so he can do you how he likes best. He slowly begins to fuck into you and his coarse hands squeeze your breasts and his fingers twist your nipples to ‘milk’ you for his future pups, or so he tells you. Your toes curl and your eyes roll to the back of your head at the thought.

The wolf is out.

And he is here to play.

. . .

Fun fact, the Leah thing happened irl where I accidentally said that to one of my female teachers lmfao.

[x-gabrielle-x]

Interlinked

Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x Reader.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, major character death, blood, war.

Summary: Mattheo Riddle was hated by most, yet you saw more in him than what most could.

Mattheo Riddle knew that he wasn't the most approachable person out there, especially when more than half of the school referred to him as his father's son.

Besides his small group of close friends, anybody else was just another thorn in his side. He had come to learn that despite keeping his distance and reserved personality, he was still seen to be just like his father.

So of course, it was a shock to everybody when you had chosen to sit beside him in potions class away from your usual group of friends.

You hadn't said anything to him, merely sparing him a quick glance and small smile before you were placing your things down quietly onto the desk. He could see your friends in the corner of his eye gawking at you from across the room and silently waving you back over, one of them even going as far to call out to you, yet you paid them no mind and picked up your quill, scribbling down the notes written on the board before the professor continued on with the lesson.

He felt his gaze linger on you longer than he would've liked to admit, brows furrowed before he chose to let the silence thicken.

Mattheo knew then and there that this wouldn't be the last interaction he'd have with you.

It went on like this for a few more days. You coming into class and sitting directly beside him, showing him your bright smile that he desperately wished to hate despite the small warmth it gave him. At this point it became regular routine, and if you ever happened to be late for class Mattheo would ensure that your seat was kept empty.

It was a silent agreement between the two of you.

So once again when Mattheo caught himself staring at your bored expression in class, your head propped up onto the palm of your hand, he decided that for the first time it was time to break the silence.

"Not taking any notes today?" He couldn't help to hide the growing grin on his face when your head nearly snapped toward him, eyes wide as if you were checking that he was in fact talking to you.

You leant back further into your seat, shrugging as you turned to fully acknowledge him whilst also being discreet from the Professor as to not get caught.

"I'm just not really in the mood for it, I guess," you shrugged, giving him a small smile. "It's pretty basic stuff, anyways," you added.

He grinned once again, although this time he put no effort into hiding it. "Of course, one of the best students in class calls it 'basic.'"

He didn’t fail to notice the way your eyes lingered on his smile. He never smiled, really. Maybe the occasional half lipped smile to his few friends he had, but to you, it felt natural. Meaningful.

"It could be basic to you too, if you took notes and gave the lesson your full attention," you teased him, nodding to the board.

"Unfortunately, my attention is elsewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, and despite your attempt at hiding it, Mattheo noticed the obvious blush dusting your cheeks when he flashed you one last smile.

In truth, Mattheo wasn't awful at potions class at all. In fact, he found it to be one of his best subjects. He would never admit that to you, though. Not if it meant that you could continue to tease him about it.

The both of you quickly went silent when Professor Snape turned your way, eyeing mainly Mattheo for a second before he continued to pester poor Neville about what chapter to read from.

Small conversations would be thrown back and forth between the two of you, and Mattheo being himself, of course threw in many flirtatious comments, addicted to the way you'd attempt to change topic and hide the nervousness from him.

It didn't take long for him to realize he was craving for your attention every chance he could get. He found himself looking for you in the corridors and in the main hall when he happened to be walking with his friends, and it didn't fail to go unnoticed by them when his usual bored demeanor would instantly change when talking to you.

You would catch his attention with a bright smile and wave, before your friends were quickly pushing you away to giggle about the situation.

After practically begging you to help him study for the upcoming potions test, despite him not needing the help, he was insistent on getting to spend more time with you.

When you were both sat in the library with the few books you had brought over, Mattheo found himself watching as you concentrated hard on what you were explaining to him, with your brows furrowed and your eyes darting along each printed word on the page. Only it didn't last long when you suddenly closed the book and looked at him expectantly.

"You could at least pretend to be a little more interested, Riddle," you had teased when you discovered he hadn't been listening to you, earning a small chuckle from the boy sat across from you.

"Would it be a surprise to you that something else had taken my interest?" was all he said, watching you closely for a reaction. He caught the slight blush dusting your cheeks.

"You're funny, Riddle." You quickly turned away from him and picked up your book, opening to a random page to save you from the embarrassment of his words. You knew that he had you wrapped around his finger, and he loved it.

Christmas holidays had come, and of course the two of you were sad to go. The many bickering conversations and your smile would have to wait until next year.

"I'll send owls whenever I can, I better get some back, Riddle," you had said, throwing one of your jumpers into your bag as Mattheo sat watching from the common room couch.

He rolled his eyes at the comment, as if it were impossible to do so. "You'll be missing me that much, Princess?"

He caught you halting your movement, and you looked at him.

"Would it be a boost to your ego if I admitted I would miss you?"

He pretended to ponder, but he couldn't hide the grin on his face. "Not entirely sure, I guess were going to find out."

You rolled your eyes once more and zipped up your bag. "Then if it makes you feel better, I will miss you, Mattheo."

Nothing felt it had sunk in until you were stood on the platform to the train, Mattheo at your side and bags in hand. You would both be going to your homes, and the several months of friendship the two of you had built together would not make it easy for the next few to come.

Your father had insisted to pick you up himself, claiming he couldn't wait long enough for the train to arrive. Unfortunately, this would mean Mattheo would go by train alone.

So, when the both of you were saying your final goodbyes, of course it had surprised him to feel your lips press against the corner of his mouth.

You patted his cheek twice, to which he just silently gawked at you.

"See you soon, Theo," you smiled before turning away to find your father who was waiting somewhere nearby.

He watched you walk off, and without another thought he was turning on his heel and stepping on to the train.

Then he was gone.

Mattheo never sent a letter, and the months seemed to drag on the longer you waited. Every day you would run outside of your family home to check the mail, expecting, hoping, to see that he finally sent you a message. You couldn't deny the embarrassment every time you opened the mailbox to see it empty. Your hope was fading, but still, there was the smallest tinge of hope left deep in you.

You thought that maybe you were overthinking things too much. He did say he had plans for the holidays, after all. Your owl would wait by the window ready for you to clip another letter to her neck once again and fly off the moment you opened the window. No matter how many times you would send a letter, deep down you knew you wouldn't receive one back.

When school was finally about to start up again the coming week, you were beyond excited to see Mattheo again, despite the fact of his lack of letters. You were sure there was a reasonable explanation!

As he sat in one of the carriages in the train, his eyes zoned out of the window and watching the fog clouding the terrain, his memories flooded back in and for a moment he swore he felt a sharp sting on his forearm. Glancing down at the Dark Mark printed pure black, he remembers the exact moment his father had pressed the tip of his wand to his flesh and the searing pain that followed.

He felt as if the holidays had been the slowest they'd ever been. Being stuck in the same building as the Dark Lord feels like that, he concluded.

He was drawn away from his thoughts when he heard the carriage door slide open, and he wasn't surprised to see your face peeking in through the door with your usual smile, only it was brighter than he'd ever seen it.

Despite him not sending you letters; you were beyond happy to see him again.

Ignoring your excitement, you met his gaze and gestured to the seat across from him. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Truthfully, he wished for some alone time to dwell on his thoughts. He didn't need you or anybody else trying to strike up conversation with him, especially after he had been mostly ignoring your letters and leaving them stranded in piles upon his desk. The slight annoyance began to bubble in his chest, yet he gave a curt nod and continued to stare out the window.

You seemed to have caught onto his behavior, the awkwardness settling in once you closed the door behind you and watched in silence.

Your mind was swarming with questions you desperately wished to ask him - What did he do during the holidays? Why was he acting like this? Did he miss you?

You inhaled a breath before asking the question you had been craving to ask the most.

"You never sent me any letters over the holidays?" You regretted mentioning it the moment the words slipped your lips, and you bit the inside of your cheek when you heard a deep inhale come from Mattheo.

"Things get busy," was all he said, and the pang in your chest that followed caused for you to try think of anything else. He refused to look at you, and that only made the pang worsen.

"Oh, that's alright," you nodded, teeth pressing deeper into the skin of your bottom lip. "What did you do over your holidays?"

Mattheo shrugged, and you wished that he could just meet your eye the longer he stared blankly out the window.

"Nothing of much importance."

His bluntness to you confused you. Never had Mattheo attempted to be so short and bored with you, even when you were both at the awkward stage of just becoming friends. You took it as a sign to sit in silence the rest of the train ride back to Hogwarts, feigning it'll be back to normal once you're both settled into the regular routine again.

The longer the days passed at Hogwarts, the more Mattheo found himself hating your presence. You were always there - always following him like a lost puppy or trying to strike up conversation. He didn't want you here. Not at the moment. He couldn't.

You didn't fail to realize this either, firstly it being small things like the previous conversation on the train a few weeks ago. But then you found that Mattheo was physically avoiding you, changing seats to be on the opposite side of the class, leaving the dining hall whenever you attempted to sit with the rest of your friends. He never saved your seats anymore; even going as far as to make sure he was sat between other classmates to avoid you being near him.

You did miss him, but you also weren't one to push boundaries. Especially when it came to somebody you cared about as much as him.

You had tried to give him space, tried to give him time to come to you, but your own emotions were clouding, and you just wanted your old Mattheo. You had made sure to find Mattheo when he was alone, gently tugging on his arm and pleading for him to talk to you.

"Can't you just fuck off already? I don't need you here. You're a constant pain, how don't you see that?! I thought you would have gotten the hint ages ago!" He'd practically screamed in your face, and you had never felt more mortified than you did right now.

"Thats not what I'm trying to do at all, Theo-"

"You need to leave me the fuck alone, Y/N!"

He hated you. He hated you for making him feel this way. It was your fault. for making him care about anything in the first place, and it was your fault that he despised you for it. And most of all, he hated you for making him love you.

He could never forget the look on your face when he stood beside his father at the war, the tears seeming as if they were rivers along your dirty cheeks, cuts littering your body. Despite all that, in your pain seeing him, he still wondered how you had managed to stay beautiful even in these circumstances. Even with the blood from your wounds, you seemed like the brightest person here.

He so desperately wished to reach out a brush away the bloodied strands of hair away from your face, to apologies for everything. He couldn't stand the way your heartbroken gaze was practically burning into his soul.

Then the flash of green and a heavy thud echoed.

He hadn't even registered the war around him as he darted forward, tripping over his own legs as he dropped to his knees and cradled your body. He couldn't even hear his own wails and sobs over the screaming of his classmates.

He wished he hadn't looked down to the sight of you in his arms, because as soon as he did, he felt as if he had been stabbed in the chest. Your body was limp against him, your head lulled back to which he carefully readjusted his body to keep his arm supporting your neck. He could barely see with the tears cascading down his face and blurring his vision - some even dropping down onto your cheek and rolling off the slopes of your jaw. He quickly whipped it off with his thumb.

This couldn't be how you last remembered him, could it? He was pressing his forehead to your cold one the longer the seconds passed.

"You’re not leaving me, Princess, ok?" he was mumbling to you in your ear despite his sobbing. Deep down he knew you were gone, but the lingering hope that you'd flutter your eyes open and smile back up at him was haunting to him. He couldn't resist but to shake your shoulders in hopes that it would be true. "You need to get up now! It's dangerous," he cried longer, and in that moment, he couldn't care less what happened to him beyond that point, because the one thing he truly cared about was now gone.

He would never hear your voice again, your lips pressed against his, or your smile that he secretly wished to see every day. He wished that he could feel your hands running along his hair comfortingly as you whispered sweet nothing to him.

He would never be able to tell you that he did, in fact, read every single one of your letters. That he wished to write back. That he wished to see you every second of the day.

Your last memory of him would instead be of how he betrayed you. Left you, and fought against you in the war. Scared and broken because of him.

It was truly all gone, and he had never hated himself more in that moment.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

[pepsichrry]

Touch Me || Regulus A. Black

Summary: You and Regulus are best friends and have been since childhood, every moment you spend is together, even ones that aren’t so platonic…

Set during the Marauders Era!

Warnings: Smut, Sexual Content, Innocent!Reader, Innocent!Regulus, Best friends to Lovers? kind of, Virgin!Reader, Virgin!Regulus

Rosier!Reader

—————————————————————————

It was a dreary spring evening in the library when you and Regulus sat studying for your upcoming Potions exam. It was also when you’d decided to bring something up that you never had before.

As you were both approaching the end of your fifth year at Hogwarts, it wasn’t uncommon for people to start getting into relationships. In fact, couples seemed to be everywhere you looked, kissing, touching and giggling together. You couldn’t help but be jealous. As a Rosier and a respectable young Pureblood girl, you were expected to stay far away from the opposite gender, and therefore stay a virgin until you were inevitably married off. Of course, these rules had been broken by other Purebloods, like your brother Evan, but not you, nor your best friend, Regulus Black.

Regulus sat opposite you in a secluded corner of the library, the sun breaking through the window panes and casting a heavenly glow over his pointed features. Beneath the table, your ankles interlocked as yours bounced lightly, but Regulus didn’t seem to be affected, he never was.

“Reggie.” You blurted, not wanting to hold your thoughts back any longer. His pretty grey eyes didn’t look up at you despite the call of his nickname that only you were allowed to call him, he only hummed in acknowledgment as his quill kept scribbling against his parchment. You continued. “Do you think that I should date somebody?”

At that, Regulus frowned, slowly lifting his head to look at you, a hint of disgust over his face.

“Why would you want to do that?”

He asked incredulously. You knew that you two were closer than most best friends tended to be, as Evan so kindly reminded you every time he saw the two of you together, but Regulus made no move to suggest that he wanted anything more than a friendship with you, so you figured the idea of a boyfriend would be okay.

You smiled bashfully. “Well, lots of my friends have been getting into relationships and telling me how great it is. I can’t help but feel I’m missing out.” You informed him quietly, mindful of the somber atmosphere of the library.

He frowned further, inky lashes meeting his brow. “Missing out on what?”

You looked down at your book, starting to feel shy at the question. There was lots that you were missing out on. You shrugged, feeling your neck grow hot.

“I dunno, like hanging out and talking and touching. It just all seems so nice.” You admitted half of your thoughts, looking up at him again.

Regulus shook his head dismissively and looked back down to his parchment before continuing his writing. “You don’t need a boyfriend for that! You have me and all of your other friends to do that.”

You laughed lightly under your breath. “I know that, but there are other things.” You tell him, finding his obliviousness sweet. You knew that Regulus was pretty much a genius, a true master at everything he did and tried, but Merlin, how he was stupid. Especially when it came to people.

“Like what?” He scoffed, quill etching a little harsher now.

“Like kissing, and…” You trailed off, making a little noise to suggest what you meant. Regulus’ head snapped up, his look of shock almost made you ashamed.

A second passed as he looked at you closely. “You don’t mean…” You did.

You knew that Regulus was just as inexperienced as you in the matter of sex, but you never knew he’d be so shocked at the mention of it. By the look of his face and the shade of pink he was turning, you began to think bringing up the idea was wrong, maybe it could have stayed between you and your girlfriends.

You gave him a guilty look and he placed his quill down onto the table, recoiling.

“Dove!” He hissed. It had always been his nickname for you, ever since you were young. Now, it nearly sounded like a term of endearment.

“Reggie, it’s really not that outrageous to want to try it.” You told him, but he wasn’t having it.

“It is! You’re a respectable young woman, you shouldn’t want for some boy to take your purity.” He took your hand, resting his warm palm over your knuckles. “You’re too good for that, Dove.”

You knew he was right. You didn’t want to regret anything that you did or lose your virginity to the wrong person, but you wanted to experiment, to be a normal teenager instead of worrying about what your mother would think. You knew she’d have a heart attack if she found out what your brother got up to in his spare time.

“I know, but plenty of other Pureblood girls have done it. Merlin, Evan has even done it!” To that, Regulus made a face of disgust.

“He has and he shouldn’t have. The Rosier name is worth more than some experimentation.” Regulus shook his head, you truly hated to see the disappointment in his eyes when he looked at you.

You sighed. “And what about the Greengrasses? All four of the sisters have slept with someone! Nothings happened to them.”

Regulus retracted his hand, folding his arms in front of him like a teacher reprimanding a student. “The Greengrasses are nowhere near our standing, Dove. We are better than them, you are better than them.”

He was right again. Rosiers and Blacks were far more important than the Greengrasses, it was just common knowledge. Your family name would be slandered in High Society if anybody found out that you’d lost your purity to anyone, the Greengrasses didn’t suffer the same issue, fortunately for them.

“I suppose you’re right.” You agreed, sinking back into your seat.

“I am. You’d be best not to mention it again, Dove.” Regulus said, looking back to his parchment and continuing like the conversation had never happened, the only trace of it being the pink dusting his cheekbones and your own memory of it.

You did wonder why Regulus was so dismissive of the idea, you had been taught the same things by your parents and had similar thoughts and experiences, so how come you both disagreed on something like this? Was it just because you were influenced easier by hearsay than he was?

“Reggie.” You called again, and he hummed, again. “Aren’t you curious about what it’s like?”

The question made him sigh and press his quill firmly down onto the table.

“No, and you shouldn’t be either.” He scolded you, flipping his potions book shut with his incomplete essay inside. “Now come on, we need to get to dinner.”

Nothing more was said as the two of you collected your things and exited the library. But that wouldn’t be the end of it.

The next time the subject was brought up was when you were lying on Regulus’ bed as he read.

It had been a week since your conversation in the library, and it hadn’t been discussed since, you were too worried about what Regulus would say. His tone alone made you feel sheepish about your questions and ideas, so you wished to avoid any further reaction from him. Except this time, he was the one to bring it up.

“Dove?” He said from beside you, gently closing his book and resting it flat against his chest.

“Yeah?” You replied, turning your head to look at him, but his eyes were trained on the ceiling firmly like he was avoiding your gaze.

He drew his bottom lip into his teeth, gnawing as though he was nervous. Finally, he spoke. “Why were you speaking to Avery in the common room today?”

Avery had come to speak with you about your astronomy assignment that you’d been paired with each other for, but the conversation lead pleasantly to recent gossip travelling around school. You found him to be good company, albeit a little dull.

“He just came to talk to be about our astronomy homework.” You answered honestly, playing with your fingers that were folded across your stomach.

Regulus hummed. “Really?” He asked, turning his head to you.

“Yes.” You frowned.

He looked at you closely, stormy eyes circling your own as though he was searching for any hint of a lie in your words. Suddenly, he pushed himself up, off of the bed and started towards his bookshelf. You sat up, watching him move away from you. After waiting for a moment for any sort of conversation from him about the subject, you decided to speak first.

“Why do you ask?” You drew your legs up to your chest and rested your chin against your knees. You weren’t blind to when something was bothering him, usually he would keep it to himself until he exploded, but sometimes, he just needed a small push in the right direction and he’d let loose.

You watched his back straighten as he took in a breath.

“I was worried that maybe you were considering him…” He turned to you, and upon seeing the confusion on your face, he added, “…As your boyfriend.”

“What?!” Your face scrunched up. Why on earth would you want to date Avery?

Regulus scratched at his forehead, shrugging slightly awkwardly. “I just thought… After our conversation in the Library…” He trailed off quietly.

“You thought that I’d want to date Avery?”

“Well, maybe not date but-“ He cut himself off, eyes widening as though he had realised what he said. He quickly turned and busied himself in the bookshelf behind him. He didn’t dare to turn and see your face.

Of course, that wasn’t originally your intention, he just wanted to talk about astronomy, but you couldn’t help but think of it once or twice whilst you were talking. You wouldn’t have gone through with it, but you couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like. And as always, Regulus knew you too well. And he knew he was right too, he was just too embarrassed to mention the act.

“Regulus-!” You began, desperate to defend yourself, but he snapped abruptly.

“You wanted to, didn’t you?” He looked at you, eyes wide. You opened your mouth to speak, but once again he cut you off. “With Avery of all people?”

“I wasn’t going to do anything! That wasn’t my intention, I’m just curious.” That much was true. You wouldn’t let Avery anywhere near you if it came down to it, but you thought about it, what he’d be like when he took his clothes off, what he’d feel like, what he’d sound like. It was vile and perverted, but you couldn’t help it. Not when the idea had been put into your head.

“Well you need to stay curious! Don’t you realise how stupid you’d be to go through with that with someone like him?” Regulus stormed over to his side of the twin bed since you were sat on one side. He avoided your gaze, but it wasn’t out of nerves.

“Someone like him?” You asked.

“Someone who sleeps around as much as he does! Someone who wouldn’t treat you right!” Regulus said, his words filling you with irritation. What would he know about that?

“And you’d know all about that would you?” You scoffed, knowing that he could deny the fact that he’d never been in close proximity with a girl except for you.

His face burned red now, and he looked at you with a mixture of anger and something close to sham. Why should he be ashamed when he was pure, something that he’d been reminding you to stay being?

“I know far more than he does about treating you well.” He sat back against the headboard, a bitter sneer on his mouth.

“And how would you know that? You’ve never even touched a girl who isn’t me! What could you possibly know about sex that he doesn’t?” You snorted, amused at his little frown. As much of a dick that Regulus could be, he was still your best friend and he was still adorable to you.

He seethed where he sat, jolting forward in anger to growl in your face. “I may not have whored myself around like he has, but I’ve known you, I’ve touched you, I’ve seen nearly all of you. I know every part of your body, that’s something that he’ll never know like I do.”

You shook your head, a smile on your face. “Well, there’s one part he would know better than you if it came down to it.” You reminded him, enjoying the moment of silence that befell you. You knew you’d hit a sensitive spot, but you didn’t care.

Regulus fell back against the headboard, not saying another word and you knew that you’d won. He may have been angry, but it was the price he’d pay for being cocky.

You knew he wouldn’t stay angry at you for long, so you curled up, resting your head on his lap, expecting for him to break his facade. Except this time, he didn’t bring his hand to run over your scalp or untangle your hair, he kept his arms crossed, though he made no move to disturb you, it still felt as though he was rejecting you. You let it be, figuring he’d get over it. Except he didn’t.

“I don’t understand your need to sleep with somebody.” He said finally.

You sighed, you knew well before then that he didn’t understand your thoughts about the matter. “You can’t tell me that you’re not curious.” You smiled slightly at him once you’d turned onto your back to look up at him from where you rested on his thighs.

He glanced down at you but looked away quickly. He shrugged with the shake of his head. “I’m not.”

You heard him perfectly, but something about his tone surely indicated that he was lying. You laughed, bringing a hand up to his face and running a finger over the smooth skin of his cheek.

“Oh, Reggie, you know you can’t lie to me.” You grinned ear from ear when he looked down at you with a stern expression.

He shook his head again. “There’s a difference between being curious and trying to find out.” He told you.

“So you admit that you’re curious! See, you’re no better than me.” You quipped and he rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to keep your curiosity a secret, Reggie, I won’t judge.”

He took in a deep breath and a strange unsureness crossed over his face. It was unusual to see Regulus unsure of anything, he always seemed to know everything about everything. Which was why you were worried you’d crossed a line. At least you were until he began to speak again.

“I- It’s just curiosity, it’ll pass.” He said softly, looking down at you and running gentle fingers over the crown of your head.

“You can keep telling yourself that, but don’t you want to know what it feels like?” You pester him with an answer as the back of your hand goes to nudge at his chest, faintly feeling his rapid heartbeat.

He purses his lips and nods so faintly that if you weren’t paying full attention, you’d miss it.

“So why don’t you try?” You ask simply.

His eyes shoot down to you, oddly calm as his chest rose and fell heavily.

“You know I can’t do that, and neither can you. There are other ways to go about things.” Your attention peaked at that.

You frowned. “How do you go about it?” Regulus flushed and opened his mouth to protest before you cut him off. “Please.”

He fell silent as he looked over the room as though he was searching for an answer to give you. He was so quiet for so long that you were worried he’d never speak again, until he shifted lightly under your head and you watched as he swallowed and how his adam’s apple bobbed. You often forgot how much Regulus had grown and how he isn’t the little boy you used to play Gobstones with in his back garden. Now, he was a beautiful man, standing tall and proud like he was supposed to, but you knew him as your Reggie, he was still yours.

“I can tell you, but you have to promise to stop pursuing these things.” He whispered.

You sat up, facing him now. “I promise.”

He observed you for a second before nodding. “Do you remember when your mother took us for a walk when we were young? Just you and me.”

You frowned, there were lots of times that she’d take you two out whilst your father was teaching your brother duelling tricks. Regulus continued despite your evident confusion.

“She told us why we weren’t the same, because when we used to take baths together we knew that we didn’t look the way the other did.” He explained simply, as though he was talking to a child.

“Regulus, I know you have a dick and I don’t, I don’t need to be reminded.” You said, scrunching your face up in embarrassment at the idea of Regulus having to give you a sex talk.

“I know, I know! What I’m saying is that she taught us how they were different and how they can feel.” He said softly, reaching down to play with your fingers. Despite how uncomfortable the conversation was, he didn’t shy away from you or your touch.

You still weren’t catching on. “Yes?”

“We can… Feel good without having to have sex. Or at least that’s what I took from it.” He looked down shyly.

“How?” You asked incredulously. Despite your mother and your friends having told you about sex, you were nearly entirely clueless, which is how you were supposed to stay according to Pureblood Society. And now it was coming back to bite you in the ass.

Regulus stuttered at your question. “Uh- Well, you can… Touch there.” He said, shifting uncomfortably on the bed as he fiddled with your hand.

You looked at him questioningly. “Is that what you do?”

He looked at you, wide eyes and eventually he tilted his head to the side. “I have before. It’s meant to feel like the real thing, but I don’t know.”

“How do I do it?” Your question was abrupt and rather shocking judging by his face, but you tried to ignore the awkwardness that came between you two.

He began to smile, presumably to diffuse the awkwardness that overcame him. “You, uh, have something that feels nice to touch.” He told you, breathing starting to get rapid.

“Where?” You lean in to him like he was about to whisper a dark secret to you.

“I’m not completely sure.” He admitted, looking at you fully now as you were so close to him.

“Show me how.”

He fell silent, staring at you, unmoving.

“What?!” He hissed.

You frowned. “What?” You asked innocently, not seeing any issue with the request.

“I can’t do that!” He drew away slightly, but still holding your hand firmly.

“Why not?” You whined.

He sighed. “It wouldn’t be right, I can’t touch you like that.” He swallowed.

“Yes you can. You touch me all the time! You’re doing it right now.” You remind him.

“That’s different!”

“How? It’s just touching, I’m not asking you to have sex with me, Reggie.” You told him honestly, you knew that he was against the idea of sleeping around.

He watched you for a second. “If our parents found out-“

“They wouldn’t, nobody has to find out.”

You watch his eyes slowly trace over you. You hadn’t been back to your dorm to get changed, so you remained in your uniform as you both hung out in his room. He took in a long breath before he met your eyes again, then, something was different.

He shifted his leg slightly, so that there was a wider space between them. He patted lightly.

“Sit.”

You obeyed, dropping down into the space. You were used to sitting like this with him because of how you both read together, so this felt no different except for the anticipation running through your body. You rested your back against his chest and his chin found the crook of your neck.

You shifted to get comfortable before he spoke again. “Take these off.” He instructed as he ran a nimble hand over your tight-clad legs.

You slipped a hand beneath the band of the tights and slipped them down over your calf’s before he took them from you and dropped them on the wooden floor. He placed a hesitant hand on your thigh.

“Just say the word and we can stop, Dove.” He told you and pressed a kiss on your clothed shoulder. You hummed a quick ‘okay’ in response and his soft hand traveled up slowly to grip at the inside of your thigh. A sudden burst of warmth engulfed you beneath your underwear at the sudden attention on your leg.

He then pressed a wet kiss on your neck and the warmth intensified slightly. Without warning, his cool touch slipped beneath the elastic band of your underwear and began to pull them off. You allowed him to unhook them from over your feet and place them in a small bundle beside him. Your lower half was completely exposed, but not for him to see, he made sure of that to preserve some kind of modesty on your behalf.

He brought his slim fingers to his lips, wetting them with his spit before he brought them down onto you without warning. You let out a shaky breath as his fingers spread moisture over your sensitive folds. It was a feeling completely new to you, but it was welcomed as his fingers focused attention on you, circling and rubbing over an area you weren’t sure of.

You sighed suddenly as he pressed down harder and your feet pushed you back into his chest. His mouth opened slightly, almost shocked that he could spur this reaction out of you. His hot breath fanned onto your neck as he worked further into your pussy.

His finger slid through the steadily gathering wetness around your hole and you felt a strange tinge run through your groin. He ran the slippery wetness over you, bringing it all back up the top of your fluttering pussy. You wet your lips as you watched his perfect hands roll over the flesh gently, and you wondered how he was so good at what he was doing.

“How did you learn to do this?” Your voice surprised even you as it came out desperate and gravelly. He sighed into your neck at the sound before he replied.

“My brother used to tell me how.” It was true, Sirius would come home and regale Regulus with stories of whichever girl he was shagging that week, so it was no surprise to you that he’d picked up some knowledge over the years.

His finger began to circle harder, causing you to let out a mewl, a sound that Regulus liked. You could tell by the way he nuzzled further into your neck with a soft sound of his own.

“Oh my Merlin.” He sighed and you wove your fingers through his dark tresses, pulling him closer into you. You wondered if he liked this as much as you did, after all, he’d never even touched a girl before.

Your mouth hung open, legs spreading further open, allowing him to touch more of you as you opened up for him. Your sounds grew more desperate at the you warmth spread more intensely around you.

“Reggie.” You whined, you didn’t know what to ask him to do. Whether you wanted him to go faster or press harder, you didn’t know. You just needed him to do anything he could.

But what you didn’t expect was for him to whine just the same into your hair as his hand seemed to work on its own. He circled both faster and harder, it was like he read your mind.

His spare arm held you tighter, keeping you taut to him as the warmth spread.

Your breathing quickened and your heartbeat heightened and your stomach began to ache? But that couldn’t be right, it felt too good to be a stomach ache. You called to him again, he had to know.

“Reggie.” It somehow sounded more desperate now. Your hand grappled onto his hair as you grew warmer and warmer. “It feels- It feels strange.” You told him as best as you could.

He nodded into you, fingers still working the same as they were, like he knew how to make the ache go away. He shushed you gently. “I know, I know.”

You cried out, legs beginning to close on their own accord despite how much you wanted to keep them open. You shook, you couldn’t help it, not as the warmth exploded and the coil of aching disappeared into a sweet tang in your mouth and a fog over your brain.

Your jaw hung ajar, like you would scream at any moment, but nothing came out, it felt too good to scream.

With his fingers slowing, you could finally feel sense as your legs dropped apart, tingling from the force of pleasure that captured your body. Regulus placed another array of kisses over you, whispering things that you couldn’t hear as your heartbeat slowed down at last.

“You’re amazing.” He said, now wrapping both hands around your waist as you came to your senses.

You couldn’t reply, you could only make a tiny breathy sound to counter him. You felt him smile against your skin.

“So good.” He breathed against you amongst the rest of his sweet nothings. You lay against him, wet and burning at the same time as he cooed at you. You were sure you could fall asleep against his chest as the minutes went by and you grew sleepier than before. Until it washed over you.

“Maybe Avery doesn’t know that part as well as you do.”

[hellsite-proteins]

Hi, im sorry if this violates no nsfw but i thought i might try coz its been an old meme; delete if you dont want to ans it, no pressure!

I've come to make an announcement: Shadow the Hedgehog's a bitch-ass motherfucker. He pissed on my fucking wife. That's right. He took his hedgehog fuckin' quilly dick out and he pissed on my FUCKING wife, and he said his dick was THIS BIG, and I said that's disgusting. So I'm making a callout post on my Twitter.com. Shadow the Hedgehog, you got a small dick. It's the size of this walnut except WAY smaller. And guess what? Here's what my dong looks like. That's right, baby. Tall points, no quills, no pillows, look at that, it looks like two balls and a bong. He fucked my wife, so guess what, I'm gonna fuck the earth. That's right, this is what you get! My SUPER LASER PISS! Except I'm not gonna piss on the earth. I'm gonna go higher. I'm pissing on the MOOOON! How do you like that, OBAMA? I PISSED ON THE MOON, YOU IDIOT! You have twenty-three hours before the piss DROPLETS hit the fucking earth, now get out of my fucking sight before I piss on you too!

tbh i'm not going to be super strict about the no nsfw thing, but i also don't entirely trust the internet and wanted to make sure no one would submit anything truly vile. this is more comedic than anything else though, so you're all good!

letter sequence in this ask matching protein-coding amino acids:

IvecmetmakeanannncementShadwtheHedgehgsaitchassmtherfckerHepissednmyfckingwifeThatsrightHetkhishedgehgfckinqillydicktandhepissednmyFCKINGwifeandhesaidhisdickwasTHISIGandIsaidthatsdisgstingSImmakingacalltpstnmyTwittercmShadwtheHedgehgygtasmalldickItsthesiefthiswalnteceptWAYsmallerAndgesswhatHereswhatmydnglkslikeThatsrightayTallpintsnqillsnpillwslkatthatitlksliketwallsandangHefckedmywifesgesswhatImgnnafcktheearthThatsrightthisiswhatygetMySPERLASERPISSEceptImntgnnapissntheearthImgnnaghigherImpissingntheMNHwdylikethatAMAIPISSEDNTHEMNYIDITYhavetwentythreehrsefrethepissDRPLETShitthefckingearthnwgettfmyfckingsightefreIpissnyt

protein guy analysis:

if you've been here long enough or have a general idea of what proteins are supposed to look like, i'm sure you could write this analysis from looking at the picture for about two seconds. all i have to say is this: why is it so spread out??? the answer, of course, is that all of the many polar and charged residues are way too hydrophilic to make anything real, and instead are just flopping around uselessly with all the water. proteins were never meant to have this much entropy, and this chaos is downright infuriating

predicted protein structure:

[elsaqueenofstress]

thinking about how quill used music as his only reminder of his mother, to the point that he would risk his own life to save it and keep part of her alive, and how we're introduced to him as the one who dances while everyone around him rolls their eyes, and how he raises baby groot to be the first of the team to dance as openly and joyfully as him, and how this groot is the first one to dance during the last scene, and how rocket – who hums tunelessly while he works until he's building stereos to play tunes while fighting until his favorite song is "come and get your love" – joins him without any self-consciousness, and how quill left rocket his zune and team leadership but the first gift he ever gave him was a name for what he was: raccoon, and how drax overcomes his stubborn adherence to never dancing because what matters more to him than being a stoic destroyer is being a father, who makes the hundreds of children that look up to him laugh with delight, and who gets to watch mantis (whose innocence reminded him of his daughter) set off into the world with her own purpose the way his own child never got to, and how nebula dances along with them, no longer holding herself to the second-best status that thanos forced on her, instead at home as a leader who can fight with her family without having to compete with them, and how she stills talks to gamora, who is able to accept that she once meant the world to the guardians, once spoke their language and joined in their hugs and was part of their fun, but that she doesn't owe it to them to join in the dance and be that same person, and returns to the adoptive family that she feels at home with, and the lyric "leave all your love and your longing behind / you can't carry it with you if you want to survive," and how in order to go forward the guardians can't all stay together, but how that doesn't mean they aren't still a team and a family because how do you truly leave the people who have dragged you, doubting and kicking and screaming, toward comfort and security and happiness? for the hottest, slowest, laziest days to end, the ones where you lost best friends and spouses and children and siblings and years of your life and memories with someone, the ones where you run from your past and pretend you were never in pain, never loved anyone, you have to let that hope catch up with you (“happiness hit her / like a bullet in the back”). anyway i think this was a pretty good series like this post if you also had a laugh or two over cosmo the space dog's telekinetic hijinks!!

[fairycheol]

Always An Angel

luke castellan x apollo!fem!reader

cw:fluff, kissing, mentions of injury, teeny tiny angst. death/murder

It had been exactly three days since Luke Castellan had seen you, his girlfriend of three years, around camp.

The first day of your “disappearance” he simply chopped it down to you being busy taking care of the camp infirmary.

By the time day two rolled around, he began to worry, and unfortunately for him the Apollo campers were no help. Delivering cryptic responses every-time Luke asked where you were, practically avoiding his question.

He began to panic, did you leave camp with no goodbye?, were you secretly seeing someone else behind his back? His mind was running a hundred miles an hour.

On day three he took it upon himself to set out looking you. Leaving his campers with Clarisse he marched through every part of camp before arriving at the infirmary.

He hadn’t tried approaching the building earlier because Mr.D had placed a “do not enter” sign on the front.

Oh my gods, had Mr.D killed her?!?

Shaking the crazy thought from his head he finally opened the door to take a peak inside expecting to find a dead body on the ground but to his surprise it was something entirely different.

Sleeping on one of the beds was a 7 year old boy and hunched over asleep in a nearby chair was you, bow and arrow held limply in your hands.

Luke crept forward into the room when he stepped onto an extra creaky floorboard. The sound had succeeded in waking you up with a fright.

As a daughter of Apollo, you were gentle but you were also a fighter. Which would explain why Luke’s shirt was now pinned to the door with an arrow.

Now fully conscious you came to the realization that you’d just shot an arrow… at your boyfriend

“Luke!” you hissed at him

“What the hell is wrong with you?! I could’ve seriously hurt you!” Walking across the room you ripped the arrow off the door and placed it back in your quill.

“I-I was just coming to check on you, I haven’t seen you in three days.” Luke gave you the saddest puppy dog eyes imaginable. Gods was it impossible to get mad at him.

“Aw, you were worried about me?” Luke passed on a smile as you grabbed his face in between your hands,

“Wait no, i’m still mad at you for sneaking up on me!” Taking a step back you let out an angry huff, but the facade had melted almost instantly when Luke pulled you in by the waist and gave you one very very long kiss.

“I’m sorry for scaring you I just need to make sure you were okay. Your campers were pulling every excuse out of the book to get away from me.” Luke explained twisting an eyebrow up in mock suspicion. With a sigh you began to run your hands up and down his chest, feeling his heart race faster with every movement you made.

“I was gonna tell you were I was but he” you pointed at the young boy still fast asleep, “would wake up in tears every-time I tried leaving his side. He didn’t wake up this time cause I asked a daughter of Hypnos to help me get him to sleep comfortably.”

That’s right. The young boy laying in the infirmary had arrived three days ago. He was chased up the hill of camp half blood by a vicious three headed hell hound. When he got to camp he was shaken up and bleeding heavily. The only person able to calm him down was you.

“That doesn’t really explain you being cooped up in here with him.” Luke huffed putting his hands on his waist.

“Yeah well, after I got his stitches done and over with he begged me to stay in here. Said he could still feel the monsters chasing him.” You turn to look at him with such a saddened gaze that had him remembering of your arrival at camp and the night terrors you’d faced yourself.

“You know better than anyone Luke… I couldn’t leave him feeling like he was alone.” He knew exactly what you meant, and he couldn’t even be upset about it.

A pair of warm hands reached up to gently get a hold of your face, turning you to face him. He gave a smile that read a thousand praises.

Luke takes your moment of silence to give you one more kiss, the gesture sets off a million butterflies in your stomach.

“How did I get so lucky with someone like you” Luke brushes a strand of hair from your face, taking a moment to admire you.

His Angel in disguise.

the ending was lowkey rushed cause i didn’t know what to write 😭

hope y’all enjoyed it tho 🫶🏻

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Listen, i have way more Peter Quill ideas if you’ll allow me-

Can we get one where the reader is super horny for Peter but she doesn’t really want to say anything because they keep getting interrupted by the other guardians (like Mantis, Rocket or Groot needing something) and it happens multiple times until the reader just pushes Peter aside and they start making out. 😂

It can be full smut or just end wherever you want it I’m not picky…but i wouldn’t turn down smut👀 it can also be gender neutral i don’t care, thanks Love! 💖

~Bear🐻

hii again sweetheart!! of course, send them in at anytime:) love love it, I was nice I wrote smut🤭 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

storage room rendezvous

Peter Quill x f reader

wc || 1.3k

warnings || 18+ only sexually explicit content minors dni

masterlist + rules

taglist

Being confined to the Bowie during long-haul missions often meant there wasn't much space or privacy, never having the luxury of a moment's silence without getting interrupted by one of the other guardians. You and Peter had recently started dating, so the amount of need you had for him was unbearable. You wanted him all the time.    

Rocket had to do an emergency landing on some random planet, twenty-something jump points away from Knowhere so he could tinker. So that left you and the rest of the crew stranded on the ship until the issue resolved. 

Waltzing your way over to the front of the ship, hands cutely laced together as you joined Quill in the captain seat, sitting across his lap. "Whatcha doing?" you question, making yourself comfortable. 

"Taking my seat before Rocket gets back," he chuckles, placing his hand on your thigh, adjusting you as he pulls you closer. "He ain't gonna like it," grinning at the thought. "What's up?" he asks, kissing your shoulder.

"Bored," you say slowly, your tone speckled with suggestion. 

"Bored, huh?" he repeats, his tone matching yours. "What'd ya wanna do?" he asks, already knowing what you're thinking, waiting for you to admit it.

"I did have one idea..." you hint, lightly trailing down his chest. "Oh, god!" you jump, lowering your face to the nape of Peter's neck. "Don't do that."

"What?" Quill questions, his eyes concerned as he follows your initial gaze. "God, Drax. How long you been there?" 

"Since we landed," Drax responds matter-of-factly, pulling a rustly bag from his pocket.

"That was an hour ago." You chime in, poking your head up to look at him. 

Shrugging simply. "Yeah... Zarg-Nut?" He offers, shaking the bag between you both.

Quill extends his hand over the back of the seat, cupping his palm towards Drax. "What?" he chuckles at your displeased expression, shoving a handful of the dried snack into his mouth. "I'm hungry."

"You are unbelievable," you playfully scoff, avoiding his green eyes. 

"Hi, guys." The soft voice of Mantis appears next to Drax. "Oh, can I have one?" She asks, nodding to the bag in his hand.

"They're all gone," Drax replies before pouring the contents into his mouth.

"I am Groot."

"Okay!" you say finally, clapping your hands together once. You loosen from Peter's grip as you stand up, lacing your hand into his as you lead him away from the group. "Come with me."

"Where we going?" Quill questions, following after you, his hand gripped into yours.

"Shut up," you whisper, leading him through the corridors as you search for a suitable storage room.

"You want me, don't ya?" he smugly asks, briskly walking to catch up with your long strides.

Poking your head through door gaps. "Yeah, now shut-up,"

He playfully chuckles, his tone full of assurance. "Knew it," snickering.

"Here's one," you mouth, dragging Peter into the empty room, forcefully shutting the door behind him.

You immediately attach your lips to his, ravenous and starved, desperately tugging at his t-shirt. He separates, his head hung low as he assesses your eyes. "Whoa, whoa, whoa... ain't even locked the door." He smirks, reaching behind to twist the lock. 

Quill loved when you needed him, loved seeing you desperate. He loved when you were verbal, telling him what you wanted, but not right now. He wanted the control and leadership he craved. 

He lightly trails his hand up your throat, grazing higher before cupping around your jaw, grasping the side of your face to bring you in. He instantly clashes his hungry mouth with yours, rolling and licking over your soft lips while his other hand travels behind your head to pull you closer. The need grows more urgent as his hands roam you, loosening the grip on your jaw to travel down to your throat. He holds it as he controls and deepens the kiss, pushing you back up and against the wall.

"What do you want?" he breathlessly asks against your lips, a wry grin looming. 

"You," you shakily reply, snaking your hands around his back, gripping the hem of his tee. 

"Yeah?" he softy whispers, entertaining you.

He slips his hand under your ass, cupping over the cheeks as he manhandles you, eagerly kneading the doughy flesh between his fingers. 

Sliding his palms up, they rest and clasp around your waist, kissing you in desperation as he squeezes you, grinding his clothed groin into yours.

He picks you up, holding you under your thighs as he walks you over to the stacked storage containers in the corner, placing you down atop them. His fingers snake into your waistband, immediately palming over your wet pussy, teasing your clit as his spare hand slides into his waistband. Lightly gripping his hardened cock and pulling himself out of his pants, firmly stroking up the length. 

You eagerly squirm out of your pants, letting them slide down your thighs and hang around your boots, draping from your ankles as you wrap your knees around his hips, bringing him closer. He yanks down his pants and boxers before sliding his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal around his shaft. "Fuck," he mutters at the contact, momentarily throwing his neck back.

He spits in his palm, rubbing the saliva over his veins to lube himself up as he adjusts you, bringing your hips forward. He pushes his head through your folds, slipping through the slick flesh as you both watch in anticipation. Needy whimpers fill the dingy room.

Gripping at his base, he eases into you. Slowly sliding his tip in as he attaches his mouth to yours, catching and muffling your initial moan. His hands graze up your back, holding you close as he sinks further into you, melting around his every inch. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, whining and mumbling against his warm skin as you adjust to his girth, clutching at his biceps. "Oh, God," muttering, his eyes screwing shut.

He kisses the side of your neck, lightly nibbling and suckling the skin as he slides in and out of you, moulding around him as he fucks into you. Completely filling you with every hasty wind of his hips, rolling into you as he chases after the high.

He grows desperate and demanding as he pushes into you. Massaging inside you, rubbing over your g-spot with the upper side of his cock, fucking into the areas you needed. He finally attaches his lips to yours, swallowing your open moans and whimpers as he groans into your mouth. Slipping in his tongue every once in a while.

You felt the overwhelming build of the high consume you, aimlessly whining against his lips as you felt yourself get closer. You convulse around him, sucking him in further in with every jolt. 

"Can I come in you?" he shakily asks, resting his forehead against yours. "Please- fuck," he mutters, closing his eyes like he's holding himself off. 

You eagerly nod, wrapping your legs tighter around him, crossing your ankles as you keep him glued to you. Desperately clawing at his back as you let go. Quill pulsates for the final time before spilling his load deep into you, senselessly whimpering in one another's mouth as you both reach your long-awaited release. The room full of hot shaky moans.

He gingerly drags himself from you, watching the connecting strings of his cum as he pulls out. He bends to the floor, pulling up his pants before doing the same with yours, holding your hand as he helps you down from the containers. Keeping you balanced, chuckling at your stumbly footing. 

"I'll uh... I'll, um," you stutter, momentarily closing your eyes as you think of the words. "I'll join you out there in a few minutes... don't make it obvious," you grin, reaching up to kiss him tenderly, playfully slapping his ass as he turns away.

Turning around with a faux displeased expression, head cocking. "I'll tell 'em," he warns with a raised brow and boyish smirk. "Don't think I won't..." teasing you. 

Grinning with raised hands as if to symbolise your innocence. "I'll see you in two minutes... Quial."

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

The Diary of Tom Riddle- Diary! Tom Riddle x Reader - P3

pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader

warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed.

summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 4-

=

Thankfully, as she woke up, (y/n) hadn't moved from her bed throughout the night. She sighed and slowly sat up, rubbing her face, drawing back the curtains of her bed, seeing her roommates all up and getting dressed for the day. It was a Sunday, so it was Hogsmeade day for years 3 and up.

Hogsmeade sounded fun.

(y/n) looked at the diary and grabbed it, popping open her ink well and grabbing her quill, flipping open a book to the now blank page she’d been writing in the night before.

“Morning Tom.”

Tom took a moment to respond, her ink disappearing into the page as his elegant scrawl appeared in its place.

‘Good morning (y/n), did you sleep well?’

“yes I did, thankfully. Woke up where I should be too, in my bed.”

‘Very good. Are you feeling better?’

“yeah, much better, thank you. Im going to go to Hogsmeade today, would you like to come with?”

‘Well, I wouldn’t be able to do much, would I?’

(y/n) hummed in thought, Tom had a point, as he could only see what she wrote/illustrated in the book.

“good point, but I could maybe bring you to the bookstore there and get some ink you’d like?”

‘I don’t eat the ink (y/n)’

“not what I meant but that’s a very funny visual thank you.”

(y/n) giggled to herself, imagining the book eating the ink instead of just absorbing it to write back to her.

“I meant like, would you like some fancy ink? I saved up some money from my allowance and can get some good ink from the store if you would prefer it?”

‘How…generous of you, (y/n)’

“thank you :)”

Tom took a very long moment to respond, as if he was thinking long and hard about her offer. Finally, after a few minutes, he wrote back-though he did so while (y/n) was getting dressed for her outing to Hogsmeade, putting on an oversized sweater for maximum comfort.

‘I suppose it couldn’t hurt if you brought the diary along, I certainly don’t mind good inks to write with, I myself was never able to afford more than the most basic brands.’

(y/n) tilted her head a bit, a smile growing on her face. Tom was opening up to her a bit! Okay-play it cool-don’t overreact.

“aww really?”

‘I don’t need your pity (y/n)’

Oops.

“not pity! Im sorry! Just…idk”

‘What in the merlin does ‘idk’ mean?’

“Oh-I don’t know-its an abbreviation.”

‘Why don’t you just write ‘I don’t know’, it’s not hard?’

“idk, just easier.”

She felt like she could hear him sigh, which made her giggle and she finished getting dressed before writing to him again.

“okay okay, im going to go eat, ill be back to grab you before everyone heads out to Hogsmeade.”

Tom didn’t respond so (y/n) closed the diary and put it back on her bedside table, capping her ink well and cleaning her quill before leaving her room, heading out to the great hall for breakfast.

-

Hogsmeade, thankfully, took the rest of the events from the night before off (y/n)’s mind as she went from store to store, starting at the book store and writing down ink brands and types to Tom, who eventually picked out a non-expensive India ink, but it was definitely more costly than the usual ink she got.

She closed the diary and put it back in her bag, taking the new ink to the front and buying it, the shopkeep wrapping it in paper and then giving it to her in a paper bag.

She counted how much money she had left as she walked down the main path of the village, nodding to herself as she pocketed the coins. She had enough to do someday after Halloween candy shopping.

She hopped straight into Honeydukes, where loads of other students were buying their own discounted candy, and quickly got some candies that were under the discount.

Including a bag of candy corn, and it was the type made in shop-which was even better.

“What is it with you and candy corn (n/n)?” one of her friends that had accompanied her to Hogsmeade asked teasingly, attempting to steal one of the candies (y/n) had bought.

“It’s good!” (y/n) defended the candy, holding the box to her chest. She knew candy corn wasn’t a worldly liked candy-but it was hers and her dad's favorite, so it not only tasted good to her, but it also was nostalgic.

(y/n)’s friend snickered, taking a caramel apple lollipop from (y/n)’s bag full of discounted Halloween candy. (y/n) rolled her eyes, the two catching up with the rest of their friends, hanging out at the three broomsticks for a while before heading back to the castle.

Upon getting back to her dorm room, (y/n) poured out the candy onto her bed and spread it out, sorting it and eating a few pieces here and there as she separated the chocolates from the hard candies, and the lollipops from the taffy.

She took out the diary and the new well of ink, opening the wax around it and setting it aside, testing the ink on her actual notebook before writing to Tom.

“back from Hogsmeade! Using the new ink as well :)”

‘I can tell, it’s far smoother than the ink you were using before.’

“I’m glad you like it! I also got a lot of candy from honeydukes, they were having a day after Halloween sale, I got nearly 5 pounds of candy for one galleon.”

‘Sweet tooth?’

“big one.”

(y/n) smiled brightly as she continued her conversation with Tom, which turned to her asking Tom what his favorite candy was…is.

‘I haven't tried much candy if I must be honest, though I do like treacle tarts.’

“yum, those are pretty good”

“great now Im craving treacle tart thanks Tom.”

‘You’re welcome, (y/n)’

­-

(y/n) happily painted on some Slytherin green and silver face paint onto her cheeks, today was the first quidditch game of the year, and the Slytherin team had gotten a new seeker-the spoiled as fuck Draco Malfoy, who everyone knew bribed his way in but he still wasn’t a terrible flyer-and brand new brooms.

The whole Slytherin house was excited, ready to win the first match of the season against Gryffindor, since they hadn’t won a game against Gryffindor since Harry Potter joined the team the year before.

“You almost ready (y/n)?!” her friend called from the bathroom as she herself finished her makeup.

“Yeah!” (y/n) said, hopping to her feet after pulling away from her desk mirror. “I’m all done!” she wrapped a scarf around her neck and hooked her arm with her friends and they all went down to the quidditch pitch together, the roar of excitement already humming through the stands.

The game started quickly after that and it was exciting! The Slytherins were walloping the Gryffindors easily-quickly overtaking them 90-30. (y/n) whistled and cheered for her team, throwing her fists into the air with each score. “Woah what the fuck?!” she heard her friend suddenly exclaim and (y/n) turned to see where she was looking, her brows furrowing as a bludger began to deliberately chase Harry Potter.

“Is that a rouge bludger??” (y/n) said, her lip curling in confusion. “What the hell they’re like-impossible to tamper??” (y/n) and her friend stopped paying attention to the game as a whole, watching in near horror as Harry was chased around by a bludger.

The Weasley twins tried to bat it away from him but it kept coming back.

“that’s not good-we should tell a teacher-“ (y/n) stuttered, turning to head off the stands, maybe catch Madam Hooch’s attention and stop the game before someone got hurt. (y/n)’s friend nodded and followed her through the crowd of Slytherins and down the stands.

Just as they reached Madam Hooch, the bludger had slammed into Harry’s arm as he reached for the snitch and he hit the dirt soon after; though he had the snitch in hand, Gryffindor had won the game. “Oh shit,” (y/n) muttered under her breath, looking at Harrys very broken arm, as Madam Hooch blew the whistle, ending the game.

The Weasley twins somehow caught the tampered bludger, getting it back into the box and locking it down. Madam Hooch instantly saw to it, and while that all happened-the idiot Lockhart…erm…mended Harry’s arm.

“Ew,” (y/n) muttered as her friend gagged at the rubber look Harry’s arm had taken. Lockhart hadn’t mended shit; he’d removed Harry’s bones!

“That is so nasty,” (y/n)’s friend muttered, and (y/n) nodded in agreement, heading back to the castle after Headmaster Dumbledore told everyone the match was over and to head back to the castle while Harry, and any other injured players, went to Madam Pomfrey.

“Gotta be honest, Gryffindor deserved that win, I mean-odds stacked against them, with those new brooms and that bloody bludger, they won. Shame Potter’s arm got broken for it though.” (y/n)’s friend ranted as they walked back to the common room, (y/n) nodding in agreement. “I have to wonder who tampered the bludger? I mean Madam Hooch checks them right before the game, and if it wasn’t tampered then, how could’ve someone hexed it within the minutes before the game began?”

(y/n) shrugged as her friend continued to rant. “Maybe someone tampered with it mid-game? Because it wasn’t doing it at first, if it was tampered with before the game-it would’ve gone after Harry straight away? Wouldn’t it?” (y/n) suggested, walking into the common room after several other students and her friend nodded, tapping her chin.

“That does sound logical, though I’m not sure how or why anyone would do that, I mean-he’s just a 12-year-old kid? Who’d want to charm a bloody iron magic ball to hurt him?” (y/n) shrugged in response to her friend's rhetorical question.

“Someone fucked up,” (y/n) answered anyway and her friend sighed, the two entering their dorm room. Her friend went to wipe the Slytherin-themed makeup off her face while (y/n) went to her bed and grabbed the diary.

“Potter almost got killed by a bludger at the quidditch match today.”

(y/n) could almost feel the sense of ‘!!?!?!’ from Tom as he hurriedly wrote back to her.

‘Who starts a conversation like that? also what? how? I never liked Quidditch but I’m sure those Quidditch gear chests are impossible to get into?’

“that’s what I said, I think someone jinxed it mid game because it wasn’t going after him at first.”

‘How odd. And it was going after Potter specifically?’

“yeah! Only him, the Weasley twins kept batting it away from him but it would go right back after Potter. Its really weird.”

‘I cannot tell you it isn’t, because it is very odd.’

“yeah”

(y/n) perked up as her friend came back out of the bathroom. “I’m going to go get lunch, you coming?” her friend asked and (y/n) nodded.

“Yeah, lemme just wash my face,” (y/n) said, looking back down at the diary and telling Tom she had to go, setting the book down on the bedside table and going into the bathroom to wash her face.

-

(y/n) woke up very late that night, a ringing in her ears as she opened her eyes, feeling kinda nauseous. She groaned lightly, realizing she’d fallen off her bed, her head pounding as she attempted to get up, pressing her palms to her eyes as they ached.

“What the fuck,” she muttered, rubbing her face. She’d never fallen off her bed before, but considering the odd dream she had-she wasn’t surprised. She eventually got to her feet after the nausea had passed and climbed back into bed, yawning.

She laid back down, but couldn’t get back to sleep. Her mind kept going back to that odd dream. She had been walking through the halls of Hogwarts, at what seemed to be a late hour, and went into one of the bathrooms and…spoke a strange language-a hissing language, and the…sink had come apart??? After that she woke up, having fallen off her bed mid weird dream.

She huffed and drew the curtains around her bed, grabbing her wand, the diary, and her quill. “Lumos,” (y/n) murmured and the tip of her wand began to glow and she opened the diary, flipping through pages and pages of notes, and doodles.

She dipped her quill and began to write to Tom.

“I fell out of my bed,”

‘And why is that so important to tell me? It’s late I’m sure, you should be asleep.’

“you’re right but I cant get back to sleep, I had a weird dream and woke up after falling out of my bed, which ive never done”

“or at least I havent done since I was a kid?”

‘Interesting. What was your dream about if I may ask?’

(y/n) wrote down what she remembered from the dream, and then added a small detail she hadn’t realized till now.

“it felt like I was having an out of body experience, or like I was watching through someone elses eyes? You get what I mean?”

‘I suppose I do, though im sure there’s nothing to worry about, everyone has odd dreams sometimes.’

“have you ever had an odd dream?”

‘Yes, I’m not divulging that information though, you’ll tease me relentlessly about it.’

“no I wont!”

(y/n) huffed as Tom didn’t respond, and she could imagine the expression of ‘sure you wont’ on his face. She wished she knew wha the looked like…wait maybe she could find him in the gallery! He did say he was a prefect in his time, maybe there was a picture somewhere of the 1942-1943 prefects.

“you’re no fun.”

‘Go to sleep (y/n),’

“fiiiine, goodnight Tom.”

‘Goodnight, (y/n)’

-

“A first year got petrified?!” (y/n) asked in a hushed tone, her eyes wide as she gripped her friend's hand tightly as they walked to breakfast Monday morning.

“Yeah, apparently it happened Saturday night, or well, early Sunday morning if you think about it that way-but Professor Dumbledore found him in the middle of the night-just-stone still, petrified.” (y/n)’s friend rambled and (y/n) frowned, squeezing her friend’s hand tighter.

Early Sunday morning…she’d had that weird dream and fell out of her bed Sunday morning.

“What time did the first year get petrified?” (y/n) asked and her friend shrugged.

“Dunno, I’m only telling you what I heard from the grapevine, all I know is Sunday morning, a first year got petrified.” (y/n) huffed nervously in response, swallowing harshly, that weird feeling of paranoia returning to her gut.

Just a coincidence, just a coincidence. It had to be; besides, she’d just fallen out of her bed this time, she hadn’t sleepwalked, she hadn’t even left her dorm room.

…right?

-

“I’m leaving.” (y/n) huffed as dumbass Lockhart came onto the long dueling stage that was set up lengthwise in the great hall, replacing the house tables. Her friend grabbed her arm as she attempted to escape, tugging her towards the edge of the stage-making them be front and center.

“Oh, come on (y/n)~ it’ll be fun!” her friend said cheerfully, she’d didn’t understand why (y/n)…disliked ‘Professor’ Lockhart, even thinking he was hot.

It was one of the few things (y/n) vehemently disagreed with her on.

“it’ll be cringe as fuck that’s what it’ll be.” (y/n) grumbled, crossing her arms as she pouted. She expected maybe Professor Flitwick to be the head of the dueling club, but noooo it had to be the obvious fake Lockhart.

Though-Professor Snape had agreed to…help Lockhart in a demonstration, and that, was going to be fun.

(y/n) couldn’t help the peal of laughter that came from her as Snape sent Lockhart across the dueling stage, her friend gasping as Lockhart landed with a thump. “Is he okay?” her friend asked and (y/n) just snickered with the rest of the Slytherin members of the club.

“Who cares? That was funny.” (y/n) chuckled, smirking as her friend gave her a glare. After that everyone got paired into groups, Lockhart nearly putting the little 1st and 2nd years with the 5th and 6th years attending, Snape correcting that mistake and putting (y/n) against a fellow 6th-year Slytherin, though (y/n) hardly knew his name.

“Remember, disarm only!” Lockhart said and (y/n) rolled her eyes, bowing her to dueling partner with her wand at her side and then holding it out in front of her, her other arm over her head for balance.

The dueling began moments later, and spells shot out of their wands every other moment. (y/n) began with the disarming charm, expelliarmus, but her opponent blocked it and returned with a Stupefy. (y/n) went to block but it felt like she wasn’t in control of herself anymore, she stepped to the side-avoiding the spell-and held out her wand in a grip that wasn’t her own.

“Relashio!” With a wave of her wand her dueling opponent was forced to drop their wand and then (y/n) twirled her wand again. “Depulso!” A blast of white magic flew towards her dueling opponent and they flew back, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

There was an intense satisfaction that ran deep in her bones for a split moment, and an odd feeling to finish her opponent off-but that quickly went away and (y/n) pocketed her wand, rushing over to her dueling partner. “Are you okay?” (y/n) asked, offering her hand and her dueling partner chuckled painfully, rubbing their lower back as she helped them stand.

“I’m okay-that was wicked casting though,” (y/n) only nodded in response, licking her teeth as the dueling groups were stopped, a green haze in the air from the dueling 2nd years. She began to leave the great hall as Potter and Malfoy began to duel, only stopping when she heard a strange hissing coming from the stage.

She turned, the hissing sounding too familiar, coming from Potter as he…hissed at a black snake? Her ears began to ring, her vision going a bit blurry as she stared at Potter, the boy hissing at the snake before Snape destroyed it.

What the fuck?

That was the same hissing she’d heard in her dream on Sunday.

-end of p3-

im very happy with this part and i hope you guys are too-taglist!!!

@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon

@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott

[amongemeraldclouds]

tongue tied

Lorenzo Berkshire could sweet talk his way into any situation he desired. So why couldn't he find the right words when it came to you? (fluff)

Lorenzo Berkshire x f!Reader

My official entry for @thatdammchickennugget and @finalgirllx ‘s Jinxed July challenge using the water balloon prompt for week one.

✿ Masterlist | 758 words

“Where are you off daydreaming to?” Mattheo approached Enzo, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as his other hand shook the water balloon.

He followed Enzo’s gaze to you as you peacefully read under a tree. “Oh, not what but who. I’ve got to give it to you, summer just started and you’ve already got a new girl in mind.”

“Shut it,” Enzo replied curtly, “it’s not like that.” It was always easy for Enzo to speak to anyone, but when it came to you, he always found himself dumbfounded.

He had meant to ask you out earlier in the year when he sat beside you in Charms class. He found you more magical than any spell he learned. You had been kind and patient, like the time he accidentally turned his hair pink with the coloravia charm and you helped him turn it back. You also had fun in class like when you used the locomotor charm to levitate your quills and make them race around class.

Each time he tried to ask you out, his tongue and stomach would be in knots. If only there was a charm for that. It wasn’t like him at all. He was supposed to be the one with the charming smile who said all the right words. And yet.

He never cared about losing. He could always change his strategy, be with different people, and get what he wanted in the end. But when it came to you, the stakes seemed higher. He couldn't afford to lose and it scared him just as much as it excited him. 

“Here’s a novel idea for you, why don’t you just approach her?”

Enzo elbowed Mattheo's side. “I’m working up to it,” he huffed. Perhaps if he played the words in his head several times, he could say them smoothly. 

“What? Did the heat fry your brain? You’ve never had to ‘work up’ to anyone,” he tilted his head to the side, studying Enzo’s face as a grin crept onto his friend’s face.

“No.” Enzo stated, reading into Mattheo’s grin. It never meant anything good. 

“I was just about to offer my help,” Mattheo said innocently despite the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“I didn’t say I needed—”

“Too late!” Mattheo declared as he swiftly swung his arm and hurled the water balloon at you. Splat! You yelped as something hit you below your neck and you felt water seep into your dress, the ink on your book melting into the pages until sentences were reduced to smudged lines. 

He winked at Enzo and mouthed, ‘you’re welcome’ before running away.

Enzo stood horrified as he watched Mattheo’s retreating figure. “That wanker!” He muttered under his breath, quelling the urge to run after him as he returned to your friends. He’d deal with him later, he had other priorities.

Taking a breath to calm his nerves, he rushed over to you. “Sorry about Mattheo.”

You looked over at him, shock and fury swimming in your nerves. Enzo forgot how to breathe. 

“H-hi,” he said weakly, clearing his throat. “It’s charms class from Enzo.” What? He felt his ears burn up with shame as he heard the words, wishing he were a leaf so the wind could carry him away.

You blinked, trying to process his words then broke out into a grin. You pointed at yourself, “it’s also charms class from y/n.”

He chuckled then, unknotting the tightness in his chest. “Can I help you with?” He motioned over to you, trying hard not to notice the way your wet dress hugged your figure. Just like that, the tightness in his chest returned. And it was also tight elsewhere.

“Yes, I want revenge,” you smirked. Salazar, he didn’t think it was possible to fall harder. He felt his heart hammering insistently, as if trying to escape his chest to leap over to you.

“Your book,” he said, trying to distract himself. “Maybe you would want to go a new one tomorrow and get a bookstore with me?” Who were words? How were sentences? What was he? It was all a mystery.

You laughed good-naturedly, he was adorable. “Whatever that was, yes.” You had liked him for a while and enjoyed spending time with him in class, but you always thought he was just being nice like he was with everyone.

Yet here he was, stumbling over his sentences. You had never seen him flustered like this before and wanted to put him out of his misery. “Now where can we get those water balloons?”

A/N: I had a longer plot in mind, but last week was personally tough for me so this will do for now. The plot idea I'm referring to will be featured in a future fic instead so stay tuned.

✿ Masterlist