#james POV

[lolathestoryteller]

Until the end, i’ll stay by your side (May 22 prompt; Undercover) @jilymicrofics

“Hold on,” James raises his hand, effectively stopping Harry from further explaining this, admittedly quite brilliant, yet ridiculous plan to the entire Order of the Phoenix. “You want to just stride into Hogwarts, where Voldemort’s men—”

“Don’t say his name!” Arthur Weasley interrupts sharply, and James sighs, raising his hands apologetically.

“Dad.” Harry says, drawing James’s attention back to him — his son.

His son whom he has not seen in months. Now sat before him, as though he hadn’t ran off to search for Horcruxes without ever telling them.

“This is our only chance. We have to do it tonight. Aberforth will send you all through the secret passageway right into the room of requirement and then—“

“Us?” Lily asks, her eyes set on their son as well, though her fingers squeeze his under the table with a painful amount of force. “What about you?”

Harry looks to Ron, then Hermione, before meeting her eyes. “We’ll go ahead, undercover. There’s…still a hidden Horcrux somewhere inside the castle.” he explains, though James can already feel Lily’s disapproval radiating off of her before she even speaks.

“No.” she replies, and it isn’t a suggestion.

Though, Harry seems to either not notice, or he doesn’t care. “Yes.” he insists, his green eyes filled with a fire so familiar, James would only have to look to his left, to Lily, to see it reflected. “Mum, I have to find it.”

“We’ll come with you.” she replies in a heartbeat, and James can only nod along fervently.

Harry looks like he would love to grant them their request, but James already knows they can’t. It’s something Harry and his mates have to do by themselves. It kills him that he cannot find that bloody Horcrux himself…anything so Harry wouldn’t have to.

“Alright,” he concedes, looking at Harry intently. “We’ll meet you in the great hall, just like you planned.”

“James—“ Lily looks to him in appall, but he takes her hands both in his to hush her.

“Lil, he’s right. We’ve got to let them do it. They’ve been looking for these Horcruxes for months…and…the castle will be full with his people. They need us for distraction.” he says calmly, despite the worry eating at his insides.

She looks like she’s about to cry, or scream, and he understands— never would he have imagined them sending Harry off into Voldemort’s lair by himself…but Harry isn’t a little boy anymore. “Lily, let him go.” he whispers, only for her to hear.

She blinks against the subtle, yet stubborn glimmer of tears, bravely swallowing them until, at last, she gives in. “Alright,” she resides, her voice not as convincing as he’d hoped— for Harry’s sake— though, who could blame her?

“But,” she turns back to look at their son, reaching across the table to take his hand into hers. “Promise to meet us in the great hall.”

Harry smiles ever so slightly, despite how utterly exhausted he must be. “I promise.”

“And if anything goes wrong—“

“Mum,” he interrupts Lily’s ramble with a shake of his head. “It’ll be fine.”

James wraps an arm around Lily’s shoulders, letting her fall against his side as they both stare at their grown up boy. “We’ll wait for you there, yeah?” he asks, taking Harry’s other hand into his.

Harry looks back at them with a raw, unbreakable determination. “I won’t let him win.” he promises— James doesn’t know how his son could make such a promise, when his enemy is so powerful, yet…something about the way Harry says it makes him believe it too.

“When…he comes…” Harry barely whispers, his hand now cold in James’s. “You’ll stay with me?”

It doesn’t take either of them even a second to answer;

“Until the end.” James replies, squeezing Harry’s fingers.

“Always.” Lily promises.

[iwriteasfotini]

Jegulus Excerpt

My third Jegulus days celebration post. I know it was yesterday, but is there really such a thing as too much Jegulus? Nope. Another excerpt from Book 3, written from James’ POV. It stands alone from the excerpts I shared for day one and day two and is from Chapter XXI. More budding Starchaser for your entertainment. 

Showered and changed, the team left the locker room arm in arm. There were still many people milling about the lawn, as it was such a lovely day. And soon the team was scattered among friends who wanted to recap the match. James looked to the lake, where he thought his mates were most likely to be. All three were there, Remus skimming stones while Sirius and Peter lay in the grass. But they hadn’t spotted James yet, so he took another sweeping look around the grounds and saw what he was looking for, a shadow shifting near the locker room entrances. 

He doubled back, if anyone asked he’d say he had left something behind. He hustled back to the locker room, and slipped through the door. And James should have been surprised, but he wasn’t to find Regulus standing in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets. He was decked out in Slytherin colors, and the emerald green contrasted wonderfully with his pale complexion and dark hair. 

Before James could say so much as “hey” Regulus began speaking very fast, “I know I shouldn’t be here. I know you are my brother’s best friend. I know you hate me and the rest of my house. I just wanted to say I’ve enjoyed watching you fly this season. You are really good James. And you are a team player.” 

James could tell Regulus was rambling out of nerves. So James cut him off, “well I train really hard. You should come fly with me. Not like you need the practice.”

Regulus bit his lip and smiled sheepishly. James had rarely seen Regulus show an emotion that wasn’t disdain or aloofness. He had a really nice smile, and it reached all the way to his eyes, just like Sirius’ did. James’ stomach did a little flip and he felt some color creep into his cheeks. Thank goodness his dark skin didn’t show blushes as easily, what would Regulus think of him?

“You had better enjoy the Quidditch Cup while you have it, because next year we are going to be wiping the floor with you.”

“Oh really,” James took two steps forward. “I don’t know, the Slytherin’s looked pretty tame this year. Maybe you all have lost your touch. And for as little as I’ve seen you training, who’s to say you are even as good as I remember.”

“I’m excellent,” Regulus replied, eyes narrowing. But James shrugged. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Regulus pursed his lips, which were slightly less full than Sirius’.

“Fine, Wednesday morning. I’ll come fly with you, as long as -”

“Regulus,” James held up his hand, “I’m taking your secrets to the grave. You can trust me, yeah?” They stared at each other, then James watched a smile creep across Regulus’ face. James smirked back, and to keep the situation from getting any more awkward, he spit into his right hand and held it out to Regulus, who did not hesitate to mimic the gesture. They shook with a squelch. 

And when neither of them had let go after a solid ten seconds of shaking, James looked at their hands and said, “so, um, we gonna stand here all day or…”

Regulus went crimson, and he dropped James’ hand. 

“Wednesday,” James called after him as Regulus made to leave out the back door of the locker room. Regulus nodded and gave him a small smile. James stood in the empty locker room and then put his hands into his pockets, palm still slick with spit he didn’t feel the urge to wipe off. 

…

You can find more info on this series in my pinned post. Unfortunately, this is from Book 3, which is fully written but doesn’t have an announced posting date as of yet. But it’s coming to AO3, I promise! On Sunday I'm announcing the title, POV, and posting date for Book 2 in my Weekly Update.

[nhstadler]

A/N: So, I heard you guys and I thought I’d give you a bit of Seth/James fluff as an apology for the anguish I’m putting you through right now. Just a fair warning though, this turned out very soft and very fluffy… probably a little too much. But, what can I say… I’m at that point in my cycle when animal videos make me ugly-cry for a solid ten minutes, so it is what it is :) . I still hope you enjoy the snippet and, as always, I’d really love to hear from you ♥️

HOLY CIRCE

“Mate.” Freddie groans and shakes his head because, of course, he thinks I’m an irresponsible idiot. His attempts to talk me down, though, feel half-hearted. 

“So, you’re saying I shouldn’t do it?” I arch an eyebrow at him as I tug my sweatshirt down and then grab my trainers which I carelessly tossed under the bed before. I’m not even pretending that I’m not a hundred percent going to do this.

“I’m saying I don’t want you to die a stupid death,” he says as he watches me tie my shoelaces, and I snort. “I definitely think you should talk to Seth, but does it have to be now?”

“Yes.”

“James.”

“Freddie.” I drag a hand through my hair, trying to get my frantic thoughts in order, but it’s useless. My head is a mess. It’s been a steady descent into chaos since I ran into Seth before. Since I held her hands and she let me. Since much longer than that, really. “I can’t sit around here and wait. If I don’t go to her now, it might be too late.” 

Maybe it already is. I saw the way Henry Pennington was looking at her all night. Because I was looking at her all night, too.

She has to feel it, right? 

She must know. It seems entirely impossible that she can do this to me - make my heart trip and my stomach twist and my thoughts tangle - and not know.

“Alright.” Freddie sighs. “Let’s assume you make it there and she lets you in and then what?”

“I don’t know,” I say because I really don’t. I have no plan, no strategy, nothing. I don’t know how to do this - how to tell a girl that I can’t stop thinking about her.

“You don’t know?” Freddie makes a weird noise that sounds like a strangled laugh that got tangled up in his throat. “You’re about to fly up to a girl’s window in the fucking doomsday rain and you don’t know? You’re mental.”

I shake my head as I grab my broom that is leaning against the wall next to the open window. By the looks of it, I won’t even have to bother with an Impervius charm. I know this is reckless and dumb and possibly futile; I know all of this and, yet, I don’t care. “I have to see her, mate.” 

I have to know if I’m too late. If I fucked it up before it even started. If I still have a chance.

***

I knew she’d be there. 

Thank fuck for my rule-breaking grandfather and his equally dodgy friends.

Even through the window, I can see the stunned expression on Seth’s face as she stares back at me, like she’s not entirely sure I’m real. I can feel my heartbeat spike, turning into something scattered and wild, and because I don’t know what else to do, I smile at her and raise my hand.

“What the bloody hell…” She mutters under her breath when she finally opens the window, and I’m starting to lose my nerve. Obviously, I didn’t think this through: that I’m truly shit at this. That I have no idea how to do this without making a complete git of myself.

“Can we discuss this inside?” I say, because I’m soaked and this seems like a reasonable request. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t enjoy hanging out in front of your window like a perv, but the rain is mildly uncomfortable.”

Seth crosses her arms and, even though I try not to, I can’t help but grin a little. She’s in an oversized Deadalus the Dog Detective sweatshirt and Ravenclaw joggers and her blonde hair is twisted into two slightly uneven, messy buns.

She’s absolutely gorgeous.

“No!  Are you mental?” She whispers and swipes a hand across her forehead before glancing back over her shoulder as though to make sure that none of her roommates are awake. “This is against every school rule.”

“Come on, Woodley,” I plead, but she is shaking her head before I’ve even finished talking. 

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re aware that it’s pissing down, yeah? Like, a lot?”

She sighs. Not like she finds me irresistibly charming and is about to give in but like she’s had enough of my nonsense. “What are you doing here?” 

I don’t know what to say. Because she’s glaring at me like she wants to shut the window in my face and I’m so phenomenally off-kilter that I can hardly think straight. I wish I could tell her how nervous I am. That she makes me nervous. That I’m freaking out and I don’t know how to handle this because I’m scared I’ll mess it up. 

Instead, I lean against the window frame and ask her how her date was, like the dumb fuckboy she thinks I am. 

“No, that’s none of your business, Potter.” She has wrapped her arms around herself a little tighter, cheeks red, frowning at me like she thinks I’m taking the piss. “I don’t - I’m not asking you who you’re shagging either.”

“I’m not shagging anyone.” The words practically tumble out and my heart thuds like an echo in my chest. 

Seth’s lips part just the slightest bit as she stares at me for a moment. Her grey eyes look darker in this light as they seem to trace the rain that is dripping from the tip of my nose and then, suddenly, they flicker to my mouth.

“Yeah.” She finally snorts quietly; breathy. “That’s why you spent the night in Athena Notte’s room last weekend.” She bites her bottom lip immediately, like she wants to take back the words, and I feel a small spark of hope. Because, maybe she does care after all. 

“I didn’t.” 

“Look, you don't owe me an explanation. You can shag whoever you want, so-”

“But I’m not!” I cut her off, digging my fingertips into the window frame a little harder as I unclench my teeth. “Shit, Woodley, I -” 

I just want you. 

I press my lips together, swallowing the words that are on the tip of my tongue. She wouldn’t believe me. Even if I poured my miserable heart out to her, she’d still think I’m playing some sort of game. Even when I’m standing in front of her window in the middle of the night in the pouring rain. Even when I ask her to dance and hold her hand and patch her up and tell her that everything’s going to be OK.

Even then, she still thinks that I don’t mean it.

“Seriously, Potter.” She is shaking her head again, breathing out a frustrated sigh. “Why do you even care?”

I lean in, half-ducking under the narrow window head that juts out from the stone. It’s perfunctory since I’m already drenched, but I’ve stopped kidding myself that I wouldn’t take any excuse to be close to her. “I just- I don’t want you to think that of me.”

“Think what?” 

I swallow. “That I’m a soulless fuckboy.”

“James.” She sighs and shakes her head and I wonder if she knows what it does to me when she calls me by my name. When she calls me James, I’m hers and no one else’s.

“So, did you?” I ask and I hope she can’t hear that my voice is shaking. “Kiss him, I mean.”

I feel vaguely sick. The rain is still coming down hard but I barely notice anymore. All I can focus on is the ache in my stomach and the painful spasm behind my chest as she says, very quietly, “I - yes…”

“Right. OK.” I swallow and then take a step back, raking a hand through my hair. Of course, Henry Pennington kissed her. What the fuck am I even doing here? “I shouldn’t have come here. I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

I’ve taken a couple more steps backwards and I’m not sure why I’m torturing myself like this. Seth is still standing at the window, looking a little confused and entirely perfect, and I think I’m going to be haunted by this forever: by the pitiful look on her face and fucking Daedalus giving me the thumbs-up. 

“Sorry.” I shake my head and then force myself to turn away from her before this gets even worse. I doubt that it could, though. A bludger to the guts is nothing compared to this. I probably shouldn’t be flying right now. I used to laugh at Dad’s lectures on broomstick safety and flying under emotional distress but I get it now. I wish I didn’t. 

“But it wasn’t like -” Her voice rings out behind me suddenly, barely louder than the rushing of the rain, and I stop dead in my tracks. 

“What?” My heart is pulsing in my throat as I turn around to look at her. I can barely get the words out. “Not like what, Woodley?”

Her mouth opens, then closes again and she shakes her head.

“Shit.” I close the distance between us in two quick strides. When I reach her, I’m entirely out of breath, like I’ve been running laps on the Quidditch pitch. “Just��� tell me to fuck off, Woodley.” 

I brace my arm against the window frame, mostly to keep myself from kissing her. I want her to want this; to want me. “Two words,” I tell her, leaning closer. Close enough to see the bright spots in her eyes. Cloud Study. “I promise I won’t argue.” My lips brush against hers and it’s fucking electric. “Seth?” 

I’m not sure I can not kiss her for another second. My nose nudges her cheek and she tilts her head up and, then, her lips are on mine - soft and fluttery and a bit shaky - echoing the feeling in my stomach. I can hardly pace myself - like I’m doing this for the first time. My breath is still too ragged and my heartbeat too fast and I’m too desperate. 

I’m crushing her against me despite the architectural obstacle between us, bunching up her sweatshirt in my fists to keep myself from going too far too quickly. Her body softens, sinking into mine - into the kiss - and I slide one hand along her cheek, into her hair, kissing her and kissing her and kissing her as I feel the press of her fingertips against my chest. Against my frantic heart.

[residentrookie]

if you’ve ever read a modern au marauders fic and thought,, what if canon james and au james just, like, swap? then surprise! you’re the little worm in my ear whispering at me to write this bonkers fic. i’m glad we’ve finally identified you!!!

go check out chapter 11 of i’ll be seeing you, my silly little multiverse fanfiction! here’s a snippet with some black brother angst on the side 🫶🏻

[rodolfoparras]

Four in the morning ( when you creep back into bed )

Pairing: Wolverine x Top Male Reader

Cw: 18+, fingering, anal sex, sub!wolverine, dom!male reader, fwb,

Thinking about Wolverine who’s always so impatient to wind down after a long day, calls you over to his place with someone else’s blood and guts still caked onto him.

He hasn’t even finished up the call when he’s stripping the clothes off of him, before pushing strong thighs up to his chest, spit slicked fingers working on loosening the tight ring of muscles, all while counting down how long it takes for you to get there, silently wondering if he should have someone else finish up the job instead.

By the time you arrive, he’s already driving three fingers up inside his tight wet hole, the muscles in his wrist flexing with how hard he’s going, angry red cock uselessly slapping against his stomach as he fucks himself down onto his fingers , all while frustrated noises roll off of his tongue because of course this isn’t enough to make him finish

The frustration only grows when he sees you standing motionless at the door, and he’s quick to tell you to hurry over and fuck him already, even huffing and puffing as he proceeds to turn over and present his ass for you because fuck does he have to do everything around here?

“come on come on come on” he rushes out, hand parting his cheeks to show you his hungry cunt, momentarily wondering if he should just tie you up and use you however he wants.

But just as the thought strikes his head he feels your cock brushing up against the furls of muscles, and a sigh of relief escaping his lips as you finally slide inside him.

Despite the amount of prep there’s a slight burn that comes with the stretch, muscles reflexively resistant as you sink further into him, but he happily welcomes it; toes curling, clawed nails threatening to poke hole in the sheets, as the pleasurable flames slowly but surely engulf him “mfp - ah fuck that’s it yes yes yes, took you ah took you long enough,”

He steadily takes you inch by inch till you’re buried to the hilt; ass flushed with your hips, pressed so close he can practically feel your heartbeat against his skin, even feels himself going lax in as if you’ve finally quenched the fire that’s burning inside of him.

“Couldn’t exactly teleport here now could I?”

Just as he’s about to retort with something sarcastic, you give an experimental roll of your hips cock head brushing up against the wall of nerves that knocks the wind out of him , desperately gasping for air when he demands “Fuck!, oh -oh need more come on, please!!”

“Easy there , going ah- to hurt yourself,” you splurt out , fingers digging into his hips as if to prevent yourself from ramming into the man.

Logan however couldn’t care less, uses his hips to push himself back down onto your length, body shuddering and groans escaping his lips as he starts fucking himself on your dick. “I’ll - ah - I’ll heal,”

That’s when he feels your fingers yank at his hair, pulling him back til his head is resting on your shoulder before driving up into him at a relentless pace, all while keeping a sturdy hand on his hip, turning and twisting his body as you please- as if he weighed nothing .

“This what you wanted huh?” You breathe into his ear while continuously slamming into his hungry cunt.

For a moment he’s unable to muster up a response, lost in the way you’re slamming your hips into him so hard it almost hurts, stretching his body in ways that makes him feel like he’s being split in half on your cock.

But the constant jabs to his prostate eventually coaxes the words right out of him “Yes! Yes! Yes! don’t stop fuck!” He gasps out feels himself already inching closer to his orgasm, and maybe he’d be embarrassed about it if he hadn’t been worked up for such a long time. All he can do now is keep a vice like grip on your cock fearing you’d be cruel enough to pull out when he’s so close to cumming

Fortunately for him you don’t do any of that, instead you continue ramming straight into him til the tension in his balls grow unbearable tight and he’s withering in your arms.

“Cum-cumming-“ is all he manages to blurt out, body tensing for a moment before spurting ropes of cum all over the mattress. “Mph fuck!” He cries out, , world blurring, ears ringing as he continues rides out his high in your arms.

Eventually he stops shaking in your embrace and upon catching his breath he’s hit with the smell of a coppery scent, one heavy eyelid prying open just to be met with the sight of his claws digging into your now bloody hands. A wave of panic rushes through him, and he’s quick to retract his claws before he goes to say something. But just as he’s about to speak you interrupt him “it’s okay”

He doesn’t say a word as he brings your hands to his lips, tongue slipping out and lapping up the bloody mess on your skin.

“Jesus Christ Logan,” you wince out, head dropping into the nook of his neck as he cleans you up, swears he can feel your cock twitching inside as he continues on with his task , his lips all bloody and smiling ear to ear when he says the words “Another round?”

[queer-benoit-blanc]

New hire in oncology at Princeton Plainsboro, going through orientation: So, in that situation, I'd go and find Dr Wilson?

Veteran employee: Yes. First try his office. If he's not there, try diagnostics.

New hire: Diagnostics?

Veteran employee: If he's not there, ask one of the diagnostics doctors where Dr House is, and go to him.

New hire: Why would Dr Wilson be in diagnostics or with Dr House? What's that got to do with oncology?

Veteran employee, realising they've become desensitised to the Hilson nonsense and that the outside world is not like this: Oh god you don't know yet.

[smellroy]

James Fitzjames is many things to many people…but most importantly she is a terrifying cigarette mom.

[dumbasshomo]

as per the people’s choice (scary ass albatrio pov outsider)

the albatross used to admittedly be the butt of the joke within pirate and navy circles alike. three nobodies only one with boring experience, the likely privileged daughter of the ferin family and a supposedly disowned triton. these jokes however became the quiet mutterings in bars or on boats, they now feared if they mentioned the name the trio would appear.

whilst some believe they were just rumours others had seen otherwise.

walking into battle they would be seen bickering and joking, making the switch all the more terrifying.

the ferin girl whose eyes turned hard and darkened, a pistol at her hip that seemed to be connected to her. they saw the way she would slash her way through men double her size, her orange hair slowly stained with blood. the laughter on her face melted away, suddenly cold and unbreaking, this was no girl this was a woman who had seen too much and whose life has been shattered too many times.

the triton, some expected his training but none expected his rage. his entire body thrumming with some power that any species knew to be scared of. the sword in his hand seemed just a another part of his body, a living thing that always struck true. gore collected on his coral but he never seemed to notice. they knew of his unwavering morals but watching him slice open another mans stomach made then question otherwise

finally the boy, he had claimed to be once part of the black rose crew and they had all laughed. but this, this was arlin through and through, the deft way he out stepped a sword or goaded on his enemy. they saw the way he carelessly wiped the blood soaking his hands on some rag before disappearing almost in front of their eyes, laughing as they stood confused. he smiled his way through carnage, blasting a magic no one even knew existed into any unfortunate soul. he gained no joy from the hurt he inflicted but the relief at seeing that final body drop was almost worse.

sorry for long post but yeah those fuckers scary

[regeditt]

james: i love it when you speak french

regulus: voulez vous coucher avec moi?? ce soir??

james: what's that mean

regulus: don't worry about it

[the-mother-of-lions]

atticus

[ultravioletbrit]

“absent” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 268 words

Sirius loves Hogsmeade weekends when the whole group gets together for lunch at the Three Broomsticks. He’s looking around the table at the smiling faces of all his friends when he realizes two faces are notably absent.

“Hey Marls. James walked down with you guys, right?” Sirius asks.

“He said he needed to stay back and work on new strategies for us to practice this week to use in the match next weekend.” Marlene explains.

Sirius furrows his eyebrows, but it does make sense. James is obsessive about Quidditch, and next weekend’s match is a big one.

“Oi! Crouch!” Sirius calls to the other end of the table. “Where’s Reggie?”

“Revising. He says he likes the library on Hogsmeade weekends because there’s nobody else there. Swot.” Barty says with an eye roll which Sirius returns.

Regulus hates noise and crowds when he studies so it makes sense that he would want to go to the library today.

Sirius shrugs it off and goes back to his lunch.

———

Sirius is sitting across from James at dinner when he notices a trail of love bites running down his neck.

“Prongs, are those hickeys?” Sirius gasps but before James can answer–

“Oi Reg!! Are those hickeys?!” They hear Barty yelling from across the hall.

James’ eyes go wide with fear and Sirius’ eyes narrow to a murderous glare.

“I err… I have to…” James stutters as he slowly stands up.

Once he’s on his feet, James sprints from the Great Hall with Sirius close behind him.

Just before the doors close, Sirius thinks he hears Regulus yell, “Please don’t kill him.” Which only makes Sirius run faster.

[iwriteasfotini]

Jegulus Excerpt

My second Jegulus day celebration post. Another excerpt from Book 3, written from James’ POV. It stands alone from the excerpt I shared yesterday from Chapter VI and is from Chapter XX. I did have to edit out a few spoilers but the gist of the scene is there. More budding Starchaser for your entertainment. 

The terrace [atop the astronomy tower] was seemingly deserted, but as soon as they shut the door at the top of the tower, Regulus materialized, as if by magic. Which James realized was probably the literal case. 

“Cripes Reg, did you learn to aparate?” said Sirius, rubbing his forehead in an effort to look casual, though James had seen him jump upon Regulus’ sudden apparition. 

“No you moron, you can’t aparate or disparate within Hogwarts grounds. The wards prevent it.”

“Oh, well I thought you might have mastered more advanced magic while the rest of us were plowing on with our assigned studies.”

James had to hold back a snort, as Sirius didn’t know how spot on the nose he actually was in his assessment of Regulus’ magical skills. Regulus only scowled at him. 

“I’m surprised you are making it through your basic studies Sirius, as apparently your ability to read is now questionable,” Regulus said, nodding to James. “I said to come alone.”

“I’m not an idiot. I wasn’t going to march up here for a cozy brotherly one-on-one. Who knew what I would be walking into,” snarked Sirius. 

“Of course, I should have remembered it takes two Gryffindors to match up against a single Slytherin.”

Sirius rolled his shoulders. “What do you want Reg?”

And as James watched, Regulus dropped some of his standoffish posture. “Look, I really was counting on talking to you alone,” he said in a far more pleasant tone.

 “James is more my brother than you are, whatever you have to say you can say in front of both of us or not say at all.”

James met Regulus’ eyes, and was surprised when the other boy glanced away quickly, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. Regulus gave his head a shake then said, “fine. Mother has told me you will be home with us this summer.”

“So.”

“So… I want to warn you, don’t do anything brash. She is out to get you. She’s furious over your antics this year. Says you are wasting your potential as a Dark wizard, not to mention generally mucking up whatever you are getting involved in.”

(removed a LARGE chunk of text due to spoilers)

“Can’t wait to spend my summer locked up in the house with you Reggie,” Sirius said loudly. “You are a ray of pure sunshine. No wonder mum and papa fawn over you, and play you like a tune. You are their little prissy parrot of a prince. Whatever they say goes right?”

Sirius was continuing his sarcastic soliloquy but James was watching Regulus. As they stood there, a foot apart, Regulus’ angry face shifted, and his heart rate picked up under James’ hand. It was positively thrumming against his palm. And for a second Regulus wasn’t an annoying Slytherin with a manipulation complex. He was a little kid full of secrets, who was probably as lonely as Lily. 

However, the moment had lasted too long, for Regulus huffed, and pushed James’ arm down with his dagger free hand. 

James wasn’t deterred, and tried to communicate a lot of things without saying a word. (Removed some spoilers)

But he didn’t think Regulus got any of those messages. And when Regulus went to turn towards the parapets James’ hand darted forward to grab Regulus’. Regulus’ hand was frigid in his. He squeezed it quickly, but Regulus didn’t rip his hand out of James’ like James had expected him to. Instead his mouth fell open in surprise and he glanced up from under his long wavy fringe. 

“And what’s with that stupid dagger anyway. You think you can pull a knife on me and suddenly I’m your puppet to manipulate. Cousin Bella must be so proud you are showing interest in her perturbed methods of persuasion,” Sirius was rambling on and on. And though only a minute or so had passed, James felt he had been staring at Regulus for an hour, the boy’s cool fingers sending chills up his arm.  

Before Sirius could witness the strange display taking place between his best friend and his brother however, Regulus pulled away from James and finished turning his back on them. Then he suddenly announced, “I’ve said what I wanted to say, I’m going.” He pointedly stepped far to the side, avoiding bumping into James as he strode to the tower door. Sirius gazed after him. But James only had eyes for the ledge of the parapet, where a small crystal replica of a Lily sat. When James reached out to pick it up, he found it was made of ice. 

“What are you doing over there,” hissed Sirius. “Let’s get out of here. What a waste of time, as always.”

James held the small flower in his palm, and water immediately began to pool as his warm skin melted the miniature ice sculpture. 

“What do you have?” Sirius was right behind him, but James closed his hand and squeezed. Water ran through his fingers and dripped onto the stone floor. 

“Nothing.”

“Then get the cloak out and let’s go,” Sirius said, exasperated. 

James pulled the cloak out and passed it to Sirius, who threw it over them. By the time they made it to the bottom of the astronomy stairwell, James’ clenched fist was empty, but a throbbing cold lingered. 

…

You can find more info on this series in my pinned post. Unfortunately, this is from Book 3, which is fully written but doesn’t have an announced posting date as of yet. But it’s coming to AO3, I promise! On Sunday I'm announcing the title, POV, and posting date for Book 2 in my Weekly Update.

[nhstadler]

A/N: This is a scene from The Stumbling Stag (Chapter 24) - some of which wasn’t told from Seth’s perspective - featuring a particularly delusional James and a charmingly tipsy Seth. I hope you guys enjoy the snippet and, as always, I’d love to hear from you :) 🦋

A LITTLE LIKE FLYING

Seth is pushing her glass back and forth between her hands, frowning at the residue of Whiskey that clings to the bottom like it might have all the answers, before she cuts her gaze up to me. 

“Thank you.” Her head tips to the side, strands of blonde hair falling into her face, and it feels a little like falling off a broomstick and slamming into the ground. “For this.” She nods towards the shabby bar where one of the patrons has just fallen asleep with his hand still wrapped around his half empty drink and I wish I had taken her somewhere else. Somewhere more impressive than this dingy rundown pub. 

“Yeah, it’s quite magical.” I want to give her my best smile, but I’m not sure it’s working when my gaze catches on hers and my idiotic heart stumbles.

“It’s perfect,” she says and then she smiles at me and I’m not alright, no matter how much I’ve been trying to tell myself otherwise. My head is a mess. Because I almost kissed her and I’m pretending like I didn’t - like I’m not constantly thinking about it; like I don’t care that she’s just told me that she’s practically engaged.

Shit.

“Tell me something, Potter. Anything.”

I look at her for a few seconds too long - at the slight pucker between her eyebrows as she frowns at me like she still hasn't made up her mind about me - and something behind my chest pulls taut like a weird muscle spasm. “I think I’m wearing someone else’s pants.”

Seth raises her eyebrows at me and then snorts, the corners of her mouth pulling into a genuine grin. “What?”

“I swear,” I say as I push my empty glass to the side and lean my forearms on the table, closer to her. “It’s been bothering me all night.”

“Whose pants are you wearing?” She asks, leaning towards me as well, and I’m momentarily distracted by how close our hands are. I could just reach out and touch her; interlace my fingers with hers, brush my thumb against the inside of her wrist. 

I think she might let me. 

“I don’t know. Al’s, probably.” I shrug and pull my hands back, because what the fuck am I doing? “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

She’s still grinning and I feel a weird sort of pride at being the cause of it; like I somehow earned it. “But how can you tell, Potter?”

There’s a wealth of vaguely sexual nonsense I could say, but I open my mouth and then close it again. I’m not delusional. I know she’s probably heard the gossip - all the things people say about me. It’s not wholly undeserved, but I still don’t want her to see me like that. I want -

Fuck.

I don’t know what I want anymore.

“Closing time!” The guy behind the bar calls out, rousing a few of the half-gone drunks that are slumped over their lukewarm beers, and Seth’s smile falters as she pushes her hair behind her ears.

“I wish we didn’t have to go back.”

“We don’t.” I say stupidly, even though I have absolutely no plan. But I’d stay out with Seth all night if she asked me to. If she wanted me to.

“We do.” She sighs and then she looks up at me, giving me this vague sort of smile that I’m not at all prepared for. It’s a fucking disaster.

***

“After you.” I pull open the door to the old telephone box and then follow Seth inside. It barely fits two people and she has to back up against the fogged-up glass to make room for me. 

“James,” she says softly, pulling my jacket a little tighter around her shoulders, and it throws me off kilter for a moment. It’s the first time she’s called me James, not Potter, and it feels insanely intimate. “Do you believe in love?” 

Her cheeks are pink and, even in the dim light, I can see the constellation of freckles that spills across her nose. I’m not sober enough to pretend that being this close to her isn’t doing things to me - that she doesn’t manipulate my heartbeat like she owns it - and I swallow as I try to sort out my tangled thoughts.

“Do you?” 

She gives me a weird look and then shrugs, like it doesn’t really matter. “I don’t think I want to, really.”

But it matters. I know it does.

I’m not thinking straight as I bring a hand up to her face - slowly, carefully - and then slide it to the back of her neck. She tilts her head and looks up at me, surprised and a little unsure, but she doesn’t move. Not when I put my other hand on her waist, not when I step into her, not when I push her against the misted-up glass that separates us from the outside world.

The music, the noise, the pink glow that lights up the windows of the phone box; nothing feels real as I lean in and brush my lips against hers - as she lets me. As she kisses me back; slowly, deliberately, like she means it.

But then the palms of her hands press against my chest - gently, though enough to make me stop - and I pull away. My jacket has slid off her shoulder on one side. She’s breathing fast, short breaths as her eyes rove across my face like she doesn’t quite know what to make of this.

But I don’t know, either. My heart is beating too hard, too loudly, like it does when I’m flying and I know I’ve gone just a little too high to be entirely safe; too high to survive the fall unscathed.

Because flying is all about control. And once you lose it, you’re fucked.

I should let her go. 

Before I can’t anymore.

But I feel the light press of Seth’s fingertips against my chest, watch her lips part as she considers me, and our breaths slide into another kiss. Then another one. And another one. 

Falling feels like flying for a little while, doesn’t it?

“Oi!” There’s a sharp knock and it takes me a second to catch on as Seth jerks away from me. It’s too bright all of a sudden, too loud, and I blink as Freddie’s grinning face comes into focus behind the glass. “Sorry to interrupt, but you might consider taking this somewhere else.”

[residentrookie]

chapter 9 is up lovies <333

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

i'm soooo glad you're back!!! love your writting so much, was thinking about some ghostface¡ tate or shit yk...like everyone who flirts with reader end murdered

i’m sorry this took me so long to do 😔 but i sorta did my own twist on this request, hope you don’t mind… i love it… anyway… :)

~~~

Lovefool

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: murder, smut, stalking, obsession, very toxic, manipulation, very minor talk of drug use… virgins, yeah idk what else it’s just stalker tate being crazy for you

summary: tate’s loved you since the first moment you met, and he would do anything to be with you… anything…

word count: 4.4

~~~

2011

You stare at the boy in front of you, a mix of emotions stirring inside you. He’s your age still, you aren’t too surprised at that. You’re more surprised at the fact that he’s in front of you. It’s been so long since the last time you saw him. You remember the pain, the pure fear that paralyzed your body the last time the two of you had an encounter. It still makes you uneasy.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice weak.

He shrugs. “It’s Halloween.”

“There’s been plenty of Halloweens Tate and this is the first time I’ve seen you here. What do you want?” You reply in a harsher tone than.

Tate shrugs again and starts to play with the sleeves of his sweater. You can’t believe this is real. You want to close your eyes and pretend this is all a sick dream, though you haven’t slept in years. After a few seconds, you cross your arms over your chest and take a deep breath. This isn’t going to be easy.

“Tate the fact you even have the balls to try to find me is crazy, what happened? Did you suddenly feel some sense of guilt? Are you finally sorry for what you did to me? I don’t even care if you are sorry, I don’t care about anything except the one question I’ve wondered since the night it happened,” you say.

“What question?” He responds.

“Why?” Your eyes start to burn. “Why did you kill me?”

~~~

1993

Tate had never seen any girl as beautiful as you. Never. Not in a movie, not in a magazine, nothing. From the first time he saw you in kindergarten, he knew there was something special about you. Of course, he didn’t know it would grow into what it did until middle school when his hormones took over. His feelings for you quickly transitioned from a pure crush to a sick obsession. And the best and worst part of it all was that you had no idea.

You never really spoke to him. He was out of your league. You were popular, but not braindead popular like the people you surrounded yourself with. Tate had seen you in some of your classes. You were smart, you got the best grades in those classes. You had plans for yourself after high school, unlike your friends. That knowledge only made him admire you more.

The problems began when you started going out with one of the popular boys in your group, David. He was awful for you; Tate didn’t understand why you chose to have such a relationship with someone like that. He’d watch how David would wrap his arms around you in the hallways, leave small kisses on your cheeks, and whisper words in your ears that made your face turn bright red. It made him furious.

What did David have that he didn’t? Why was he so special? Tate knew he could give you more than David ever could. So, why were you with him?

Tate quickly became blinded by rage and jealousy.

At night he’d lie awake, the knowledge that you might’ve been out there opening your legs for another boy making him sick. That’s when the fantasies began. He imagined killing David. How would he do it? Where? In what way would leave the least amount of blood on his clothes? The image of his mutilated body consumed Tate’s thoughts. He liked it.

It was around that time that he had found the mask.

It was a strange mask he found in the basement. It had a long white face with black holes for the eyes and a long mouth. He wondered which resident of his house had left it there for him. He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. All he knew from the second his eyes fell upon that mask was that bad things were going to happen.

He started going out at night and driving by David’s house. The mask he wore gave him a sense of power he never knew he could feel. At first, it was innocent. He’d simply drive down the other boy's road and look through his window for a few minutes before leaving. But all it took was one second of seeing you inside to blow the whole thing up. He was livid, seeing red. He decided he needed to bring his fantasies to life and get rid of David for good.

Halloween was when the opportunity to kill David became undeniable. By that point, Tate had been stalking the two of you for a month so he knew the basics. Which room was Davids, how to get into his house, and where his parents were most likely going to be. He had it all planned out. So, on Halloween night he put on the mask along with black robes that covered his entire body and ventured to the other boy's house, ready to kill.

He brought a knife, and when the time was just right, he snuck in through one of David’s open windows and started his game. He crept through the empty house, not making a sound. Getting to David’s room only took him a few minutes and what he heard from outside the door made him not regret his choice at all.

“Yeah, I know, listen she’s so close to finally giving it up to me and that’s what I’ve been working for this whole time. Once it happens, I’ll dump her, easy,” David spoke into his phone. His voice was cocky. It made Tate clench his jaw in frustration.

“Because dude, do you know how many girls from school I’ve already got under my belt? Y/N is just gonna be a name on my list. Yeah, whatever, I gotta go anyway I need to shower for the party, maybe I’ll get lucky, and she’ll drink too much. Okay bye.”

Before David could even get up from his chair, Tate kicked the door down and stormed in, too overpowered by his rage to think about anything but slitting the other boy's throat. He pounced on him, stabbing the knife into any part of his body he could reach. David screamed, but Tate quickly silenced him by shoving the knife down his throat. He felt empowered, he felt thrilled at the sight of his dead peer. It was amazing.

Tate didn’t waste much time gawking over his achievement, however. Once he was sure David was dead, he quickly pulled the knife out of the boy and fled out the window and back to his car. As he drove through the small neighborhoods of your guys' town, he wondered how big the news would be. Would you cry? He hoped you wouldn’t. Not over that asshole. You would move on, and Tate would wait however long it took.

~~~

The news of David’s death spread faster than wildfire and consumed Westfield High’s drama for weeks. Out of all the kids in the school, you took his death hardest. Seeing you so depressed almost made Tate regret his actions. He couldn’t bear seeing you tear up in class or show up to school two periods late. You weren’t like that.

However, as the days turned into weeks, you started to appear healthier and happier, and soon enough you were back to your normal self. Tate was glad, you were always so much prettier when you paid attention in class. He decided it was time for the second part of his plan to finally act. Though he was incredibly nervous, he knew it was then or never. He couldn’t risk you getting a new boyfriend that he’d have to kill again.

So, one day, he followed you into the library when the two of you coincidently had a study hall during the same period. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it in his ears. There you were. sitting at one of the tables alone studying, and he was going to speak to you. He’d thought up conversation starters all morning along with taking a few extra hits off his bong to help with the anxiety.

He shook the nervous thoughts from his head and grabbed his notebook from his backpack before walking in your direction. Your head was down, your hand moved aggressively across the paper as you wrote your notes. Tate stood at the other side of the table for a few seconds simply admiring you. His hands were shaky, his breathing uneasy. God, you made him lose his composure by existing. It was excruciating.

After he was done staring, he spoke, his voice quiet. “Hey y/n, do you mind maybe helping me with some of that psych homework?”

Your head shot up, your eyes instantly meeting his. He swore he couldn’t breathe. You, y/n, were looking at him on purpose. At that moment he didn’t care about what you were going to say, he didn’t care if you completely rejected him. All he cared about was how good it felt to have your eyes on him. Such innocent, loving eyes.

“Oh, yeah of course Tate that’s actually what I’m working on right now. Just sit, we can do it together. Unless you’re like super behind,” you answered.

“Are- Are you sure?” He couldn’t help the uncertainty. Did you really say yes to him?

“Yeah... should I not be?” You replied with a smile.

“No- sorry.” He sat down across from you. He could smell your perfume; he’d never been this close to you. “I just wasn’t sure if you even knew who I was.”

You chuckled. “How could I not know who you are? We’ve literally been in the same school system together since kindergarten.”

“I don’t know. You’re you know popular and stuff,” he said as he opened his notebook.

“Not really, besides even if I was that wouldn’t automatically make me forget anyone. But anyway, you can use my notes in a second, I’m almost done with the page,” you responded. You looked back down at your work and started writing again.

Tate nodded despite you not paying attention and watched as you wrote. He felt like that whole conversation was another one of his daydreams about you. Was he really sitting across from you? Or was it another mid-class nap? He cracked his knuckles to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and thankfully, he wasn’t. It was all real life.

“Sorry if this comes out as creepy, but I feel like I haven’t seen you around in a while. I mean, when was the last time we even spoke?” You suddenly spoke, your eyes back on his.

“I guess you weren’t looking hard enough to see me,” he said with a shrug. All his confidence was a facade because on the inside he was losing his mind.

He noticed the way your cheeks slightly turned pink before you replied. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t. But I should have been.”

He knew deep down you were going to be his for so long, but at that point, he knew he had already achieved his goal. You were his.

~~~

“What is this place?” You asked as you clutched your cardigan around your body.

Tate smiled and grabbed both of your hands in his. “I told you it’s a surprise. Patience is a virtue.”

“I have patience, but I also have a lower body temperature than usual and it’s bothering me so I would really appreciate it if you’d just take me to the surprise already,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

“It’s seventy degrees.”

“Yeah, but it’s also windy at the beach and it’s probably colder than seventy because of the ocean’s temperature.”

Tate sighed and leaned his head down to press a small kiss on your lips, a feeling he still hadn’t gotten over. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Terrible, naughty things I hope,” you replied, kissing him again. “But please lead me to your special surprise beach spot.”

Though he wanted to stand there and kiss you all night, Tate obeyed your request and began to lead you further down the beach. It had been a few months since the two of you started talking, and to say it progressed would be an understatement. Tate had truly underestimated how easy it would be to capture your attention. All you wanted was a sweet, caring, genuine boy and he could be all those things easily.

So, after a month of being friends, he asked you out and you said yes. The relationship grew deeper with each day, and it didn’t disappoint him one bit. He loved everything about you. The way you’d lie on your bed with him and talk for hours, the way you’d make your relationship with him public by holding his hand in the halls, and most importantly the way you never expected or wanted him to change to fit in with your friends. You liked him for who he was, and it melted his heart.

It was your three-month anniversary, and Tate wanted to make it special. Even though he knew before the two of you got together that you were a virgin, he didn’t know to what extent you were. He quickly became aware you had done most things already, just not full sex. At first, he was annoyed at the fact that you weren’t completely his because he had never done anything with a girl before you. But after the first night, you went down on him, he wasn’t that upset anymore.

On this night he planned to take the next step with you. He had it all set up. The blankets, the lights, all of it. As the sight of his setup came into view, he watched your face light up. You squeezed his hand and grinned up at him.

“Is this really for me?” You asked.

“Yeah, do you like it?” He replied.

You nodded and sped up to reach it, dragging him with you. Once you made it you dropped down to sit on the blanket, urging Tate to do the same. “This is so cool. You’re the first boy to ever do something like this for me. I love it.”

“I’m glad, I know how you like sentimental things,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “And I’ve been wanting to show you this spot for a while. I used to come here a lot as a kid and watch the waves with my dad... before he left. I wanted to make it special with you because you’re not like my dad. Right?”

“No, I’m not. I won’t ever do anything to hurt you like that. I lo- I like you Tate, a lot.”

Tate only stared into your eyes, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his life. You almost said you loved him. He knew then that night was going to be the night you finally gave yourself to him. Something in your eyes made him certain. Your eyes were dark. You stared up at him as if he were the only boy in the world. There was a feeling in the air, one of lust and fear.

“I’ll never want to hurt you either,” he mumbled after a few seconds. “I doubt I ever could.”

You gave him a small smile and placed one of your hands on his cheek. You caressed the skin with your thumb as you slowly started to lean your face toward his. He accepted your lips on him, kissing back instantly. It was the moment he’d been working up to for years. He was finally going to lose his virginity to you, and you to him. Nothing would ever compare.

~~~

The sound of Nirvana mixed with skin slapping filled Tate’s room. He couldn’t help the moan that left his lips when he looked down at you. Your back was arched so perfectly, your waist looked impossibly small, and your ass looked incredibly big. The side of your face was smushed against one of Tate’s pillows. You were so red, so loud you had to bite your hand to spare the whole house from hearing. Tate took in a deep breath and slapped your ass, his thrusts not faltering for even a second.

“Fuck baby, you look so pretty right now. You take me so well,” he whispered. He wrapped some of your hair around his hand and yanked you up, making you practically scream. “Yeah, you like that. You like being manhandled y/n?”

You let out another moan but didn’t reply. Tate slapped your ass again and threw you back down to the mattress. He leaned over you, your sweaty body feeling perfect against his. He was close to finishing. He’d already made you cum a few times that day, so he wasn’t too concerned about where you were. All he was concerned about was getting closer to you before he came.

“I love controlling you, you’re so helpless. Fuck I’m so close,” he mumbled in your ear. “You’re mine, all fucking mine forever. I’ll kill anyone who even tries to take you away from me.”

You made a noise and Tate couldn’t hold back any longer. He came inside you, his cock pulsing heavily. You groaned; his cock was hitting your cervix too hard it hurt. He waited a minute or so before finally pulling out and moving to the spot next to you on the bed. He’d never felt anything as amazing as having sex with you. He was breathless.

He was so caught up in his thoughts about what just happened that he didn’t notice your sad expression. When he eventually looked at you, he saw your frown. Immediately he turned to his side and faced you, reaching out one of his hands to brush a few of your hairs behind your ear.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“It doesn’t look like nothing you look sad; you can tell me whatever it is.”

You sighed and turned your head to meet his gaze. “Why do you like hurting me? Like during sex and stuff. You’re always so rough and I don’t know you’re really mean and sometimes the stuff you say is… scary.”

“How is it scary?” He laughed.

“You said you’d kill anyone who would try to take me away from you,” you said.

“Yeah, I would. I swear I’ve said this shit to you before. I would do anything for you, or to keep you,” he responded.

“Don’t joke about that Tate, you know I’m scared of killers because of what happened.”

“Oh, so this is about David? Why are you even thinking about him y/n he’s been dead for months. Do you miss him, or something is that it?” He questioned; his tone harsher than before.

You scoffed and sat up. “You’re seriously making this about me missing David?”

“Well, is that what this is about?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered before you stood up and started to get dressed.

“Oh, my fucking God y/n I’m sorry for whatever I said wrong while we were fucking. Can we just move on already? I don’t see what the big deal is,” he snapped.

“No, we can’t just move on. You scare me sometimes Tate like genuinely. I know you mean it all in a sweet way but it’s weird. I love you but you don’t hear me saying I’d kill people if they talked to you or looked at you a certain way. That’s not normal.”

Tate sat up. “I wish you would say those things. I wish you loved me as much as I love you. I’d do anything you ask; I would shoot up the fucking school if you wanted me to.”

You looked at him, he could see the terror and fear in your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am. I don’t get why you’re acting so scared. I’d never hurt you I don’t even think I could if I wanted to, you mean more to me than any person alive or dead,” he answered.

“You’re sick,” you mumbled. You grabbed your bag and walked to the door. “I think we need some time apart; you aren’t sane.”

His heart practically stopped. “What?”

“We need to stop seeing each other for a little while, I can’t take this insane shit Tate. I’m sorry. You know I love you, but I need you to get some help before I can be with you.”

Before Tate could reply, you left. All he could do was stare at the door, a million thoughts roaming his head. Did you really just break up with him? Was that it? Did you just throw away everything the two of you had because you felt his love was too strong? It didn’t feel real.

As the night progressed, he tried to call you, dozens of times. But each call was either declined or rang out. His anxiety grew with each ring of the phone. Why weren’t you replying? Who were you seeing? Did he really mean so little to you that you could leave so easily? His mind spun with scenarios, each one worse than the last. By the end of the night, he had convinced himself you were cheating on him, and the following days only worsened his state of madness.

You ignored him completely in school. Every time he tried to talk to you, you either turned away or walked away completely. It hurt him terribly. He couldn’t understand what had changed so fast. He chased you around the halls for days, trying his hardest to get your attention. But it never worked. And so, his love for you began to fade into an awful rage.

He couldn’t let you just walk away from everything the two of you shared. You were his. Only his. He couldn’t let you leave him, not like his dad. He hadn’t spent his entire life chasing you just to end up losing you. No. So, he began to formulate a plan. He’d leave you alone for a few days then calmly ask you to meet him at the beach, in the special spot he once made for you.

He wasn’t surprised that his plan worked. You were predictable.

When the night came, he made sure he was prepared. He snorted a line, packed his bag full of your favorite things, and set off. As he walked down the beach, he made sure the knife he hid was secure in his pocket. It was smaller than the one he’d used on David, but it would do the job just as efficiently.

You arrived a few minutes after him, a sad expression on your pretty face. He fought the urge to run to you with open arms.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. Only a few feet separated your bodies, he wished he could close it. But he needed to be patient.

You took a deep breath, you looked nervous. “Yeah, look Tate I... I’ve thought about it and I... I really think we should stop seeing each other for some time.”

“Why Y/N? I love you, so fucking much. I’m sorry for what I said, I can change, I won’t say shit like that ever again. I’ll be gentle, I swear. Just give me the chance I can be whatever you need me to be,” he replied desperately. He opened his bag and pulled out your favorite candy. “I love you; I really do. Please give me another chance.”

He watched your eyes fill with tears. You wanted to give in, he could see it in your eyes. But you only shook your head and wiped a fallen tear from your cheek.

“No. I’m sorry. Tate, you aren’t gentle, that’s not who you are. And I don’t want you to pretend to be someone you aren’t.”

Tate swallowed hard. “You promised me you’d never leave me; you said you were nothing like my dad. Was it all a lie?”

“Of course not!” You exclaimed and took a step closer to him. “I love you; I really do. That’s why this is so hard.”

“If you love me, why can’t we work this out? Don’t lie to me Y/N.”

He couldn’t stop his eyes from watering, nor could he stop his lips from quivering. He dug the bouquet of your favorite flowers out from his bag and held them out to you.

“Please,” he mumbled. “I need you.”

You caved. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tight. He could feel your muffled cries on his chest, it pained him. You were a sensitive sweet girl; it was both your blessing and curse.

“Maybe in a few months, we can try again, I don’t know.” You looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. “We just can’t be together right now. And I mean we’re going to graduate soon, and I might go to a college far away, how would that even work? But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s too late for that Y/N, you’ve already hurt me.” He dropped what he was holding and dug one of his hands into his pocket. He touched your face with his other hand, your tears covering his palm. “You’ve planned on leaving me this whole time. I wanted to give it another try you’ve made up your mind. I guess it just comes down to one thing.”

“What?” You asked.

“If I can’t have you, no one can,” he whispered before he pulled out the knife and plunged it into the side of your neck.

~~~

2011

“I killed you because I loved you,” he answers. “Because you were going to leave me and find someone else.”

All you can do is stare at him in silence. You think back to everything that happened. How could you have been so blind? It couldn’t have been your fault though. He would’ve killed you anyway. You think back to all the times Tate made you uneasy, all the times he would say things that creeped you out. Deep down you must’ve known that’s who he is. Maybe you knew all along.

Maybe you loved him because of his darkness.

You exhale a long breath. “We don’t have that long till midnight.”

“So?”

You shrug. “Wanna hook up?”

[moonbread123-wattpad]

Y/n: I'm a badass feminist who doesn't need a man. Y/n: *steals Harry's hoodies* Y/n: *needs help opening bottles* Y/n: *needs constant attention*

Harry: I survived Voldemort as a baby, I'm the definition of independent. Harry: *needs cuddles to sleep* Harry: *constantly jealous of Y/n's plushies* Harry: *needs to be reminded that Y/n will not leave her for that really hot dickhead down the street*