#she is a dreamy drinker

[tamedgod]

❋ just for fun lmao. from genji, obvs ♡

receive a drunken kiss...

" ohhhh what a rare sight! "

she's hurrying over to @lctibule, stumbling a step on the way there, but ultimately keeping her balance. haru looked excited as she slid into a seat beside the other, grey eyes not leaving genji's unmasked face, eventually making their way up to meet his red ones. placing a half finished drink down, she smiles, leaning over to bump him with her shoulder.

" or... maybe it's not? i feel like i don't get to see you... without the mask much. "

the words are spoken slowly, as thoughtfully as they could be through the dizzy warmth she was feeling. she and a few of the other agents had been having drinks, sharing stories and all around working on team bonding. it had really lifted haru's spirits after the rough time she'd been having as of late — though she hadn't been as conservative with her intake as she'd planned to be. and when she saw genji off away from the group, well... she thought it her turn to check in.

" it's nice... getting to see all of you. or — more of you...? " she paused, trying very hard to think of a better way to say what she meant, but the thought was quickly sapped from her alcohol-ridden brain. without noticing, she was leaning on him now, slowly resting her head on his metal shoulder soon after. it had a warm hum to it, and haru closed her tired eyes for a moment. " ...it's just nice getting to see you. "

she's at rest for a moment, briefly alleviating her spinning thoughts and vision, before cracking her eyes open again. mindlessly, haru slowly traces the cording of genji's bionic arm with her finger.

" i... really appreciate your company. " she shuffles around clumsily to find her drink, almost knocking it over. she took a sip, the warmth hitting her throat, then her stomach, before letting out a steady breath. " you make... " she gestures around with her drink, " all'a this a l'il easier. "

slowly lifting her head from his shoulder, she turns to look at him again, taking him in. his eyes, his scars — him — before leaning over to brush her lips against his own.

it was delicate — so, so soft — and only lingering for but a moment in time. she pulls away — but not far — a sideways smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. glassy eyes attempt to search his face a moment, before her head returns to resting on his shoulder, eyes closing again.

" you're warm... it's nice. "

[shalomniscient]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BELOVED !!!!

arle birthday mail……….. tears in my eyes

[simpforboys]

Hii!! I saw u were doing smut so i had to askk,

Could u do a Neteyam x Metkayina!Reader(aged up, obvi) where during a festival they’re getting drunk and stuff, shes talking to her girl friends about neteyam and she doesnt realise neteyam is heard her, she says out loud, “I taught him how to ride Ilu, He better let me ride his dick.” And they burst out laughing.

Soon after, its just them alone (AND SOBER) and he does end up teaching her how to ride. Well not really teach, he just lets her ride.

oh my god. yes.

how to ride

neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: neteyam overhears you sharing some private thoughts to your friends. he lets those thoughts become reality.

warnings: smut!! riding, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, dom!neteyam, fluff, swearing, mentions of dirty thoughts, praise kink, creampie

aged up!neteyam (around 20), aged up!loak (around 18)

“you’re coming to the welcoming party, right?” you walked up to neteyam, hip popped out as you carried a basket on your other hip.

“ooh! a party!” tuk said excitedly.

“sorry, tuk. grown ups only.” neteyam ruffled the child’s hair causing her to groan in frustration.

neteyam beamed up at you, your curly hair falling behind your back with a shell placed on top of your head. you had a tribal tattoo that went from your elbow to your neck, the tattoo swirling around your left breast, and a bright smile. you were gorgeous, one of the prettiest girls in the village.

the prettiest to neteyam.

being the older sister of tsireya and ao’nung, your father had instructed you to help the sully kids adapt.

but when the teenagers and kids slept, the adults wanted to have their own adapting.

so you organized a party that would have the metkayina famous root, a root that would get the drinker drunk within a few sips.

“i’ll be there, y/n.” neteyam nodded at you. you grinned, waving bye to tuk as you walked away, neteyam watching your hips sway.

that night, there were around 20-30 villagers who heard about the party and wanted to come.

you had dove down to where the root was planted, a sacred place by the cove of ancestors.

a flower was in your hair as you spoke to your friends, zeswa, syon, sìla, and niyi. your smile was bright as you peeked over at neteyam, the boy standing awkwardly with his brother.

you left your friends, neteyam silently thanking you as he felt outcasted with lo’ak.

“you need to try this.” you gave him a cup of the root, the scent strong as neteyam’s eyes narrowed.

“is it poison?” he asked, a joking tone in his voice.

“no,” you laughed. neteyam smiled.

“it does get you drunk, however.” you warned him, not wanting the strength to surprise him.

neteyam eyed you curiously.

“watch,” you grabbed your own drink. raising the glass to your lips, neteyam suddenly became very hot at you swallowing the drink down your throat.

within seconds, your pupils dilated and you became more giggly.

“c’mon… ‘teyam…” you slurred your words. lo’ak looked at his brother, shrugging in response as he took a couple sips. his ears went straight up as he coughed on the liquid. the site made neteyam’s curiosity get the best of him, and he took a single sip rather than a few.

he was tipsy, on the verge of drunk but still aware of what was going on. he’d never been buzzed before, and the way his body tingled felt strange to him.

“let’s go dance, yeah?” you dragged the boy over to where some villagers were making music with bongos and shells.

you almost tripped on the sand, neteyam grabbing you to keep you from falling.

“whoops,” you shrugged. you began to sway your hips, letting the island music take over your body as your friends came to join you.

the girls smiled at neteyam, the boy giving them a nod in return. lo’ak began to wander off, neteyam following him so he didn’t lose his wasted brother.

you, however, were giggling loudly with your friend group.

“he is so dreamy…” zeswa awed as neteyam walked away.

“i hate seeing him go, but i love to watch him leave.” sìla joked, seeing the way his braids swayed behind him as he walked.

your friends continued their awing and comments about neteyam, the root making it so none of you realized that he had soon returned with his sibling.

“i mean, i taught neteyam how to ride an ilu properly. i think i should be able to ride his dick, y’know?” you smirked, giggling drunkly to your friends.

neteyam’s face grew warm as he heard you speaking about him in such a manner. his ears fell flat and his tail wagged quickly.

the processing thought that you, the chief's eldest daughter, wanted to have intercourse with him, made neteyam's blush deepen. his body was very hot, a prideful grin creeping onto his face.

➽─────────────────❥

one of the better effects of the root was the lack of hangover. you were up bright and early once more, helping tuk feed the ilus.

neteyam suddenly became very aware of the way your beaded shell top showed the curve of your breasts. water dripped down your body, your hair being the main cause.

you had apparently redone your hair that morning. you put your hair in a half up-half down ponytail, twists leading to the band that held it together. shells and little flowers were scattered in your hair, and neteyam swore you couldn't get any prettier.

you had bent over a bit, the loincloth showing the curve of your ass. neteyam didn't realize he was staring so intently until lo'ak patted his shoulders.

"you should get in on that, big bro."

neteyam scoffed, pushing his brother off of him.

the man began to walk over to you and his youngest sister, his heart swelling at tuk's happiness.

"i love her so much!" tuk petted the animal's slimy head as you grinned.

"rewon (morning), neteyam." you bowed your head to him, your innocent eyes causing neteyam to feel nervous.

did you mean what you said last night?

he wanted to ask so badly, but he knew it wasn't the time or the place. he bowed his head back, mutual respect as he moved to stand next to you.

"want to go for a ride later?" he asked suddenly, the subtle comment making your ears snap up. neteyam noticed the way you flustered up and he wondered if he ruined it.

"i would love to, neteyam." you agreed, beginning to overthink the question. had he heard you last night?

you were beyond embarrassed, even though there was a chance he had no hidden intent behind his question. but the way he had a hint of perversity in his eyes, you couldn't help but let your mind wander.

when you finally had a chance to sneak off, neteyam followed you as you ventured off inside the reef. his ilu chased yours as you laughed underwater, sticking your tongue out at him as he couldn't quite keep up.

you lead your ilus to a secluded little island, a place you liked to go when things became too much.

neteyam sat next to you on the sand, watching the way the sun almost met the moon.

there was a comfortable silence, yet a tension neither of you could explain. neteyam let his eyes roam your long legs, the material of your loincloth bunched up at your hips so he could see the dip of your thighs.

you could feel neteyam's eyes on you. your pussy began to react, a slight throb in your clit as you pushed your hair back off your shoulders.

"did you mean what you said last night?" neteyam's bold question threw you off.

"about....?"

you wanted to play it off, scared that he thought disgustingly of you.

"about riding me."

you swallowed nervously as he watched you with starving eyes. you peered up at him, the normal bright color now dark with dilated pupils.

"yes." you mumbled lowly, he almost didn't hear it.

neteyam's hand went to your jaw, his breath fanning over your face.

"is this okay?" he breathed out, his chest rising and falling with every deep breath he took. you nodded, connecting your lips to his in a heated kiss.

neteyam purred as you pushed him back on the sand, your lips still connected. you hovered over him, your clit throbbing from the kissing.

neteyam was resting on his elbow, his other hand still holding your face against him as he slipped his tongue in your mouth.

within seconds, you were kissing your way down his toned body. he continued to purr like a forest cat, his hand sneaking its way into your hair.

"you're so beautiful, y/n." he hummed out. you blushed, sucking a hicky on his v-line.

you untied his loincloth, his throbbing dick springing up. you marveled at the sight, noticing the way you began to salivate.

"y/n-" neteyam whimpered as you sucked his tip. he threw his head back as you jerked him off, swirling your tongue around the head.

he was panting, the hair on his tail tickling against your cunt as he moved his tail.

the noises he was making was unlike anything you imagined. knowing he was whimpering for you only made you hornier.

"honey," you watched the way his stomach fell. he unknowingly bucked his hips into your throat, gripping your ponytail as you gagged around him.

"doing so good for me."

his praise caused you to moan around him, the vibration almost making him cum. your long nails raked along his striped thighs as he used your throat, chasing his orgasm.

"oh, fuck," he moaned as he came. eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back as he shot thick cum down your throat.

you smirked against him, pulling your mouth off him as he came back from eywa.

"you're so cute, 'teyam." you kissed him once more, untying your own loincloth as you moved to hover above him.

you grinded your soaked cunt against his hard cock, patting his head at your clit. you both moaned into each other's mouths as you put him inside of you.

neteyam placed one hand on your hip, the other on your breast. he rolled your hard nipple in between his fingers, you breaking the kiss to moan out.

"so big, 'teyam."

your comment made neteyam's ego burst. seeing you sitting on his cock on an island on the edge of the reef, knowing that at any moment someone could look for you both made him only harder.

you moved your hips, beginning to twerk on his cock. his tip brushed at your g-spot and you mewled as he rubbed your clit.

"good girl," neteyam slapped your ass.

"this is what you wanted, yeah? to ride my big cock?" neteyam began to lose himself as you used his cock to get off.

you nodded quickly, eyes rolling back from the pleasure.

"feels so good," you moaned.

the erotic sense that the chief's daughter was fucking herself dumb on his cock made his stomach tighten. his father would surely kill him if he were to find out about this, but neteyam didn't care.

for once, he was thinking about himself. he wanted you, needed you. he knew you were to be his mate, and he was going to allow himself to be selfish in this moment.

neteyam grabbed your waist, pulling you down as he held you against him. he rutted his hips roughly into yours, his balls hitting your ass as you screamed out in pleasure.

"take it, baby."

he sucked on your nipple as you dug your nails into his shoulder. your curls were bouncing as his braids swung against his neck and shoulders, the harshness of his hips causing his body to shake.

"fuck, neteyam!" you squealed.

"who's this pussy belong to?" neteyam asked.

"you! my pussy belongs to you, neteyam!"

you were seeing stars as his cock drove itself into your cervix. you were becoming lightheaded from the pleasure, your stomach tightening as you clenched around his cock.

"come on, ma y/n. cum on this dick."

you pushed your hips back onto his as your pussy clenched around him, your body shaking as you came.

"oh, fuck me." you cried out as he kept going.

neteyam loosened his hold on you as he helped you bounce on his cock, wanting to cum. he was close with the way you tightened on him.

"you gonna take my cum, baby?" he asked you.

you nodded feverishly, so lost in the overstimulation of pleasure. you never got to recover from your orgasm, and neteyam began rubbing on your clit again.

you were soon about to hit your second as neteyam grabbed your hips, holding you down on his cock as he came inside of you. hot spurts of cum painted itself on your walls, the feeling causing you to come again.

you fell on top of him, legs weak as he held you against his chest.

"so good to me, so good," neteyam kissed your forehead as you recovered.

"that was better than i imagined." you joked, cuddling yourself into him as his cock slipped out of you. cum began to leave your cunt, but he pushed it back inside of you.

neteyam grinned.

"oel ngati kameie (i see you). i see inside of you, into your mind, heart, body, and soul." neteyam brushed your messy hair out of your face.

tears welled in your eyes as you caressed his check, your finned hand going down to his jaw.

"i see you, ma neteyam. i always have, ever since you came to my island, and i always will."

neteyam's smile was so wide as he kissed you once more.

——-

tags: @mayhemories @useryourbut

[mossyivy]

https://www.tumblr.com/tipsyleaf/747506335018549248/ok-so-hear-me-out-a-relationship-with-leon-and?source=share

love, reading this gave me butterflies 😭😭 ur way of writing is simply amazing! also, imagine that this new girl treats reader badly and Leon defends her (us)...?

xx🪞

Tysm!!!! You have no idea what it means to me when people enjoy what I write!

(I had so much fun writing this, thank you for the ask!!)

You end up kissing linoleum in the break room and there's agents surrounding you in seconds. A few even trying to get to stir. Leon's knelt next to you on the floor, making sure you didn't it your head and keeping it elevated. But eventually they get the agency nurse there to get you to infirmary.

This new girl is watching in shock, mildly irritated by being interrupted but everyone seems to be frazzled so maybe something might actually be wrong with you. So she just goes along with everyone else as the nurse shows up with a wheelchair.

Eventually you come to on the examination table. The nurse explains what happened and she starts asking you questions. After a few questions she asks how stressed you are.

You work as an USSTRACOM agent, when aren't you stressed?

So you give an honest answer and she continues asking. You tell her about being upset before passing out and she takes a breath in, telling you it's probably blood pressure issues. Go see a doctor. So, you take the Tylenol she offers and leave to get back to office work.

The next few weeks are different. Leon starts lingering around your block every time he goes to anywhere that isn't his desk.

Bathroom break? How are you feeling?

Coffee from the break room? You see that doctor yet?

Paperwork for Hunnigan? Hey, we should really go get lunch together again today. It's been a while!

It's nice how much he cares, it makes your heart swell and chest fill with that bubbly sensation. It's almost there's this thick dreamy fog every time he's around. It's suffocating but you honestly can't get enough. You crave it that whenever he's not talking to you or looking your way it's like you're gonna die.

Eventually the new girl, who just so happen to get one of the empty cubicles in your row, starts getting more and more pissed over time. She sees how you look at Leon. Like he's an oasis in the desert and you're a quenched traveler crawling for the last scrap of hope you have. Thirsty, so thirsty...

It's sickening.

She ends up starting to be passive aggressive. Asking everyone in your row out for drinks but you.

Sorry, I just heard you weren't a big drinker. Didn't think you'd be interested.

Sounds reasonable.

Goes out of her way to order everyone lunch while you're out of the office on a case for the day.

I was planning on waiting for you to get back but I mixed up the order date, sorry!

Everyone... Makes mistakes?

She gets a special coffee order and you're finally included! On her way over she drops yours on the office carpet. Hitting your new shoes you just got a compliment on earlier that morning. You look at her and her shocked face... Fake shock, you know a liar when you see one.

Oh my God! I'm so-

It's fine.

You turn back to your work and hear her snicker. She thinks she's sneaky, but she's really not.

One day you're in the break room, grabbing some water from the cooler when she walks in, starting to make small talk. Being fake friendly, typical. You turn to walk out with your water when you here her gasp and a shatter. Water hitting from your feet to your waistline. Freezing you turn back seeing the water cooler toppled over and shattered on the floor...

I'm so sorry, I bumped into it!

It's a glass water cooler... It's SUPPOSE to be heavy. There's no way she just bumped into it and it fell...

The break room door flies open, it's Leon.

The hell is going on in here?

He sees the mess, eyes going wide as he realizes you're soaked from the waist down. The girl immediately tries explaining herself and how she "bumped" into the cooler. Thankfully he's on the same train of thought as you.

There's no fucking way...

Leon, it's fine. It's just water.

Really it was an accident!

Accident my ass! And no it's not fine. It's water and glass. This dumbass could have hurt you.

Dumbass? You've never heard him snap at anyone in the office before. You look back at her, real shock finally dawning her face. It almost makes you grin. She starts to stutter, trying to say anything at all.

Whatever you have to say, save it. And I don't know what petty childish reason you have for doing something this stupid but knock it off. She doesn't need the stress of dealing with you too.

That grin finally graces your lips as her disappointment rears it's head. But quickly you let it drop. Leon ushering you to the locker room to change out of your wet pants. That hazy feeling coming back slowly as he watches over you.

Thank you for sticking up for me. I appreciate it.

What're friends for?

You mess with the handle after trying the combination, jammed... Of course. Leon steps over. Shooing you out of the way and bangs his fist over the latch. Backing off he gestures for a second try. You raise a brow, skeptical over it but your wet ass begs to just try again. So you do, the door opening without fail.

Wow, a true master with his hands.

What can I say? I just have that special touch.

You giggle at his comment, pulling out your uniform pants from your locker. You move to start changing when you glance at Leon, he hasn't even tried budging.

Could you maybe... Turn around?

I've seen you on the brink of death, more than once. And you're scared for me to see you without your pants on?

You've bought me lunch countless times but that feels more like a dinner thing, y'know?

Leon grins, crossing his arms over his chest. His expression change is almost... Flirtatious?

Damn, if I knew it were that easy I would have asked sooner.

Definitely flirtatious.

Leon...

His brows raise as you start undoing the button on your pants. He's... Clearly interested.

I'm wet...

He bites his bottom lip, fingers tensing into his forearms as he squeezes his eyes shut.

Don't... Don't say it.

I'm sorry! You just make it too easy sometimes!

He moves his arms, taking in a breath as he covers his eyes and he turns away.

I'll be good. Just for you.

[monstersinthecosmos]

Vamptember Day 13 - Tiara

{puscifer - bullet train to iowa}

tapestries & tile - part i

Warm breeze teases through Marius’s hair as he holds Daniel by the hips, dragging him closer, the hard stone of their balcony digging into his lower back. Half-seated on the ledge, one leg crooked with a foot perched on the baluster. Ahead of him, Daniel breathes a small whimper of pleasure, and behind him is the noise of traffic and static of the ocean. 

They’re both buzzed, from Little Drinks at the night club, one of the songs from the DJ set stuck in Daniel’s head, phantom bass still pulsing in him as he leans in to suck at Marius’s bottom lip.Traces of someone else’s drink on his mouth—whiskey cola, Marius guesses. Something in him recognizes the stickiness of it, knows how sugar tastes to a blood drinker, even if it all tastes of poison to him in the end. Still, the ghost of it there is exciting, leftover evidence of a victim, and it makes Marius tingle. 

80’s night at the club, and the DJ kept sampling all these atrocious old songs. Daniel joked to Marius at one point that they shouldn’t have been excavated, that not everything deserves immortality. But there was some sense of fondness in his voice, dreamy look in his eyes.

Daniel’s arms circle around Marius’s shoulders, and Marius has to open his legs to make space for him as they crush into each other, just breathing for a moment. Marius savors the warmth, the scent of humans stuck to his clothes, letting it wash through him for a beat before going for the throat.

He tastes different than he used to. Healthier with each month that passes, his blood full of the personality that had been lost. Full of feelings, and memories, and he’s so confident with the way he shares it. There’s never a sense of shame afterwards, knowing what Marius may have seen there, just the generous truth of it.

And now.

The heat hits the roof of Marius’s mouth, and he can feel the sludgy echo of the song in Daniel’s head, like the DJ unlocked some memory.

One of the dance clubs on the Night Island—Marius may have been there, he can’t quite be sure, but he knows because Daniel knows. It had a disco ball and checkered floor and Armand had commissioned tacky murals to cover all of the walls. 

Daniel remembers his head was pounding—a little too much to drink, and he had trouble keeping his balance, and the colored lights everywhere were smearing together. Frankie Goes to Hollywood was playing way too loud, and he was too uncoordinated to dance along, but all the humans were fawning over him that night. Girls were touching him and cooing, and kept adjusting the tiara on his head when it would slide down to the side. Ridiculous thing that Armand had forced on him, but he’d been in that perfectly-drunk stage, just a couple hours ago, and had found it funny at the time.

Now he wants to go home.

It’s too loud, and he can’t see Armand. He turns carefully in a circle, afraid he’ll puke if he moves too fast, eyes scanning over all the shiny bodies, errant limbs and sprayed hair, but he’s adrift in the crowd, all alone.

And some girl near him. Her nails bite into Daniel’s forearm and her eyeliner makes her look mean. She frowns at him, so tall in her heels that she gazes down into his face, and his vision doubles as he stares back at her.

“You’re too drunk, princess,” she says. “You’re the birthday girl, you can’t ruin your own party.”

“S’not my birthday,” Daniel slurs, but he doesn’t think she hears him.

“Open your mouth,” she commands.

Daniel wonders if Armand sent her. If she knows something, and who she is, and why she’s here. But he obeys her, anyway, without meaning to. Vision softening as he opens his mouth, unsure what he’s waiting for.

“You’re dehydrated, baby,” she says, and Daniel hadn’t noticed the glass bottle in her free hand. Fancy water that Armand insisted they stock at all the bars. Her nails click against its cool gleaming body as she pours some into his mouth.

Some of it spills on his chin, and he wipes it with the back of his hand. Room spinning as the water hits his stomach. She adjusts his tiara for him, and taps him on the nose.

“Good girl,” she says, and then she’s gone in the crowd.

His head lolls back, and he stares up at the disco ball. And water didn’t help. Just makes him feel more full, makes his stomach slosh uncomfortably. Doesn’t help the spins, and the disco ball doesn’t help either. Makes it worse, actually, but it takes a minute for his brain to catch up, and for him to look away.

Armand is there now, where the girl had been. Right in front of Daniel on the dance floor, with all the colors catching on his unnatural smooth skin.

“You’re too drunk, princess,” he repeats. His face stays expressionless, his voice flat. 

(It always chills Marius, seeing memories like this. Impossible to ignore that he isn’t the lively boy from Venice anymore, impossible not to notice that something happened.)

Daniel rubs a hand over his chest, over the bloom of heartburn in the wake of too many tequila shots. 

“You’re the birthday girl,” Armand mimics again, in the eerie deadpan. His eyebrow quirks as Daniel sways on his feet, and a sarcastic twang wraps itself around his accent as he tries to imitate her. “You can’t ruin your own party.”

“M’gonna be sick,” Daniel mumbles. 

Armand glances up and down Daniel’s body. Tilts his head as if listening. Daniel’s stomach gurgles and he wonders if he can make it to the bathroom in time, can’t actually remember where it is, but Armand’s cold hand is around his forearm before he can figure it out. Mind five steps behind as they weave through the dance floor, stumbling behind without a clue where they’re going.

His ears ring as they cross the threshold into the bathroom, as the door slams shut behind them. The music muffled instantly, and heat turned down. He feels clammy in the cool air, and the mosaic of the tiles blur as he tries to decide which toilet to go for.

It’s empty, he thinks. Can’t be sure. Oddly grimy in here, despite Armand’s standards. But, it usually is by the end of the night. It’ll be good as new by the time they reopen tomorrow. But there’s paper on the floor, and the garbage can is overflowing, and the faint smell of piss makes him wonder about the subtle damp layer across the tiles. 

“Open your mouth,” Armand says. He looks like a teenager from here, gazing up at Daniel, but he’s so freaky in the unforgiving white overhead light. Daniel glances towards the shiny green toilet stalls, mouth watering as his stomach cramps, but Armand has a hand on his shoulder before he can move. He’s too short, he shouldn’t be so strong. Uncanny that Daniel buckles beneath it, sinks straight down to his knees.

Already drunk enough and ready to be sick, but the wetness that soaks into his pants off the floor almost has him gagging. So near the urinals that he can smell the deodorant cake from here, down on the floor, at eye level. They never really work, do they? They just create something new. 

“Open your mouth,” Armand repeats.

The tiara slips as Daniel tilts his head back, catching sharp in his hair so it doesn’t fall. Armand is so tall from here, towering over him. Eyes stormy as he looks down. Daniel opens up, and Armand’s hand grips him tight on the jaw. Enough to hurt, enough that Daniel doesn’t move.

“Good girl,” Armand mumbles, and spits into his mouth. 

Marius swallows, licks over the wounds as they heal, and his whole body shakes with need as he comes up for air. 

[argisthebulwark]

Last Lines Tag

thank you my beloved @elfinismsarts and @ehlnofeh for tagging me in this <3 as someone who hops from WIP to WIP with far too much frequency these are all gonna come from different sources, some posted and some still under construction. i'll tag some folks (no pressure): @nejackdaw @fabeong @daedrabait

A line from your fic that made you laugh "I spent years in the Gray Quarter. A wretched place full of bitter Dunmer" Teldryn commented, distaste clear in his tone. "I wouldn't go back if you paid me." "I did pay you."

A line from your fic that made you sad “Her regards?” Everything felt too slow, each breath took ages. Brynjolf managed to focus on Mercer and suddenly felt like a kid again. Mercer's face softened in an almost sympathetic expression and suddenly Gallus was dead, Karliah was gone, his entire family ripped away from him all over again. Mercer’s hand was on his shoulder once more and it could only mean one awful fucking thing.  “Karliah killed Saryn. Just like she did Gallus.” No. No. She wasn’t gone. Mercer’s words felt like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t breathe. The world was spinning. He was going to be sick. “Sorry, kid. I know you liked her.”

A line from your fic you're proud of i just liked this one it's silly Her teeth scraped across his shoulder and Miraak felt something shoot through his body. It took him longer than he cared to admit to realize that it was arousal - how long had it been since he'd felt that?

A line from your fic you think could've been better whole thing needs a rewrite tbh "Not once did you stop to consider anyone but yourself!" Harsh words flung across the room and the Dragonborn paused, mouth open as they uselessly sought for a retort. "You didn't think what it would do to me to lose you, did you?" "I did not." They admitted, accepting the painful silence that fell between them. "I did not think you cared."

A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character “Who are you, barely out of your adolescence, to talk to me in such a way?” Miraak let his voice become smooth, calm with hate. He knew how much she disliked that, he could see it in the color rising in her dark cheeks. “I have lived a thousand lives. You have barely lived one, elf.”

A line from your fic that makes you go 'aww' “Just because I don’t pray to the Aedra doesn’t mean I don’t pray.” They tried to keep their tone light and playful but it sounded strangled. They couldn’t look at Erandur, couldn’t meet the question that was surely in his gaze. “And what do you pray to?” “You, mostly.”

A line from your fic that's full of symbolism “I thought you were exclusively a wine drinker.” He comments, resting a hand familiarly on their thigh. The Dragonborn shivers at the warmth of his touch when his fingers tease at the hem of their jerkin. “I’m not picky.” They respond, hoping it sounds nonchalant. They can feel Sanguine’s intense stare when they take another drink of ale. He grins, leaning in close enough that the warmth of his breath sends shivers down their spine.

A line from your fic that contains an easter egg "What brings you to Riften?" The carriage driver's rough voice broke through her mental loop of anxiety. "A man." She admitted, bluntly. "I'm in love with him." "Moving to Riften for love?" He grunted out a laugh at her expense. "Good thing there's a Temple of Mara, I hear they've got some new Priests training for the upcoming season. Watch out for those thieves, though. They're making quite the comeback." "Thank you, I'll keep an eye out."

A line from your fic that's shocking “Silly Listener, you’re teasing Cicero again.” His laugh was high pitched and dreamy, sending shivers down your spine. What had he meant by that? Again? “Stop being mean to your loyal Keeper.” “What do you mean?”  “You always do this!” Any hint of his laughter was gone. Your blood chilled when the bed creaked, your only sign that he'd gotten to his feet. “You show up just to taunt and silly Cicero falls for it every time. Go on, say it and disappear! Leave poor Cicero alone!”

A line from your fic you want to talk about more (it's not specifically a line I really want to talk about but the whole regency fic i started working on tbh) “We could be caught like this.” Miraak murmured and she marveled at the sight of his lips moving. “We would be compromised, we could lose all standing in proper society.” “Best keep quiet then, my lord.”

[that-one-weird-fangirl2020]

peace | S. Sallow | Chapter Two

Warnings: none

Sebastian Sallow x F!OC

"And that's all for today! Now remember, I want a seven inch essay on Glumbumbles by Friday of next week! Class dismissed!" Professor Howin shouted as the class got ready to leave.

Ariadne had partnered with Poppy Sweeting for the class again. Thought the girls' expertise on magical creatures and beasts was something to not be ignored. Especially after the whole adventure with the dragon egg and golden snidgets last term.

"Aren't they just adorable!" Poppy exclaimed happily, still admiring the Glumbumbles in their glass enclosures.

Ariadne looked at the gray insects, grimacing. At least it wasn't acromantulas. She had enough experiences those to last a lifetime. Though something tells her, she would still be dealing with those awful creatures.

"If you say so, Poppy," Ariadne sighed.

"Oh, Ariadne, I know how you feel about insects and arachnids," the Hufflepuff girl giggled.

"At safe distance away where they can't bother me!"

The girls started to walk back to the castle. Advanced Potion Making was next, a class that Ariadne had been excited to begin (other than alchemy). As she and Poppy approached the classroom, Ariadne saw Sebastian walk out, hands in his pockets as he stalked out of the classroom with Ominis in toe. The sour look on his face only softened when he caught sight of Ariadne. But the next person to leave the potions classroom was none other than Colter Winterfaire. No wonder Sebastian is in a foul mood, She thought.

As she and Poppy entered the classroom, they made their way over to a free table. Ariadne took her potions textbook out and laid it next to her cauldron.

"Now, time for a class I'll actually enjoy," She smiled, fixing her brown-auburn hair into a braid to keep it out of her face.

"What? You didn't enjoy Care of Magical Beasts?!" Poppy faked hurt.

"Oh, come off it! I love that class, I just love potions a lot more."

Suddenly, Garreth Weasley was there. His hair was a lions main of red curls, green eyes twinkling with mischief, and a wide grin plastered on his freckled face.

"Mind if I take one of the open spaces here?" He asked.

"Not all, Garreth," Poppy replied, "the more the merrier."

"Then you won't mind if I take the last place!" Imelda took the spot across from Ariadne.

"Nope!" Always the optimist, Poppy Sweeting.

There were the sounds of heavy out of sync footsteps. The class turned and saw Professor Sharp limping in. Some of the girls in class had dreamy looks on their faces as he went by. Ariadne had no idea why they found him attractive, given the fact that he was old enough to their father.

"Good day, class, and welcome back for a year of Advanced Potions. Seeing how you are all able to continue the subject in sixth year, you got an Outstanding on your OWLs for potions- some of you i'm surprised made it into this course," Sharp began, aiming a look at Garreth, "and today we'll be looking into and brewing the potion called Draught of Living Death. This can be found on page twenty-seven of your textbooks."

Ariadne opened her textbook and flipped to the corresponding page, reading the information tab in the corner.

The Draught of Living Death brings upon its drinker a very powerful sleep that can last indefinitely. This draught is very dangerous if not used with caution ... This is an extremely dangerous potion. Execute with maximum caution.

"Now, what would be the correct antidote if one were to consume this potion?"

Ariadne raised her hand.

"Ms. Silverthorne," Sharp acknowledged.

"Wiggenweld potion, sir," She answered.

"That is correct. Ten points to Slytherin."

The girl smiled to herself, a bit of pride swelling up inside. What a Slytherin thing to do, but then again, if one was sorted into Slytherin, feeling prideful was guaranteed. Ariadne had a vast knowledge of all sorts of potions and alchemical ingredients. When she wasn't fooling around with Sebastian over the summer, Ariadne was cooped up in her late father's study and alchemy lab. She would go over the hundreds of alchemy and potions books. Studying the formulas and components one needed for something somehow became a coping mechanism of sorts. Ariadne even concerned finding a possible cure for Anne Sallow in the Alchemy books her father owned, but shelved the idea for a later date seeing how she -like Sebastian- would have to dive into the depths of dark magic, especially when it came to alchemy.

"I must ask that you all proceed with caution when you start to brew this potion, especially you, Mr. Weasley." Sharp again gave Garreth another look.

"Loud and clear, professor," the Gryffindor boy chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"You may begin!"

Ariadne got to work, taking the necessary ingredients out. She carefully looked over the instructions, mindful of how much of each component to add. The Sopophorous bean was a bit of a pain in the arse- the damn thing would not hold still for nothing. She ended up crushing it instead of cutting because it was driving her mad. Ariadne eventually removed her house cloak and loosened her tie because the humidity from the potion brewing was almost unbearable, and she could feel the sweat rolling down her forehead. There was the sound of a minor explosion next to her. Looking up from her cauldron, Ariadne found that Garreth Weasley- face covered in black soot- must have done something wrong to render the explosion. She had to cover her mouth to keep a laugh from erupting.

"Congratulations, Weasley, it's your first explosion of term!" Imelda said sarcastically.

Her normally neat ponytail was now loose with several strands of hair hanging down in her face. Garreth sent her a glare as he wiped his face with the sleeves of his robe and flipped Imelda the bird.

Poppy and Ariadne looked at each other and chuckled before returning to their work. As she finished her potion, Ariadne went to get Professor Sharp. He looked at her brew.

"Impressive, your skills in potions are truly outstanding," Sharp commented, "I'd say one drop of this, and it will kill us all."

Again, pride swelled within her, "Hard work and dedication pays off. Would you agree, professor?"

"I would, another ten points to Slytherin."

Ariadne smiled to herself, and as class ended, she bid farewell to Poppy and headed to her next class. As the day progressed and classes ended, she was stopped outside of the Alchemy class. It was Coulter again.

"What do you want, Coulter?" She asked.

"I just wanted to see if you changed your mind about butterbeer now that Sallow isn't around," He said, a genuine smile on his face.

"Like I said, I have plans. Professor Weasley wants to speak with me now that classes are over," Ariadne said.

Coulter nodded, "I understand, I just wanted to get to know you better, seeing how you're the Savior of Hogwarts and everything."

Ariadne quirked an eyebrow, "What's that supposed to mean?"

The Welsh boy just chuckled, "Nothing."

Then he slipped away, down the corridor, and disappeared in the throng of students. Ariadne just shook her head and proceeded to Professor Weasley's classroom in the transfiguration courtyard.

As she arrived, Professor Weasley was at her desk, going over some papers. She looked up and spotted Ariadne enter.

"Ah, Ms. Silverthorne, how lovely to see you, my dear," She greeted, getting up.

"Hello, Professor Weasley. You wanted to speak with me?"

"Yes, how are you adjusting since the events of last term?"

Ariadne took a seat at one of the desks. She let out a sigh and folded her arms. "I would say I'm doing well, but that would be a lie."

Professor Weasley gave her a concerned look, "What do you mean by that?"

"It's just with all that happened with Ranrok and Rookwood, not to mention losing Fig," Ariadne took a shakey breath, her green eyes looking at the desk, "I know, what i did saved the school, but I wish I could've done more, maybe I could've save Professor Fig."

"Ariadne, you needn't have to blame yourself for what happened, I'm sure Fig is proud of the student you have become," Professor Weasley placed a hand on Ariadne's shoulder.

She gave the professor a weak smile. She wasn't so sure that was true. Ariadne saw the look of disappointment on Figs face when she decided she wanted to keep the power for herself and learn to use it. He died being disappointed in her. She just knew it. And now the power she holds is wanting to be used.

"How are you adjusting to your new classes?" Professor Weasley changed the subject, sensing the grim atmosphere.

"I'm adjusting quite well, I really enjoy alchemy," Ariadne answered, "it's something that I find fascinating."

"It's from my understanding that your late father was an Alchemist, am I correct?"

"Yes, my father was dedicated to his study. He was obsessed with finding ways to make one's life better through alchemy. My mother was a potioneer, she wrote several books on her findings with potions she's created. I guess you can say my parents ambitions rubbed off on me."

Ariadne smiled fondly at the memory of her parents. She lost them both when she was eight years old. They left for a business trip somewhere in Ireland, leaving a young Ariadne in the care of her Aunt Marjorie. They were ambushed by dark wizards on their way back and killed in the process. Marjorie did her best to take care of the young witch and had taken her traveling around the world. Ariadne lived with her until she turned thirteen and decided to take residence back at Silverthorne Manor.

Ariadne's father had attended Durmstrang and her mother attended Beauxbaton, so it was only natural that Ariadne thought she'd receive letters from those schools when she turned eleven. But no such luck. She thought she was a squib for five years. So, it wasn't until Ariadne was fifteen that she received her letter to Hogwarts, did she realize she did have the ability to create magic, let alone the ability to see and use Ancient Magic. Her Aunt Marjorie was the only one on her mother's side that attended Hogwarts and was friends with Professor Fig.

"I'm sure your Aunt is proud of you," Professor Weasley said, "I remember the days Marjorie was in my class, best friends with Professor Merabel Garlick, always up to something those two."

Ariadne chuckled, "Aunt Marjorie never told me she was friends with Professor Garlick."

"They were inseparable during their years at Hogwarts. Though Marjorie was also close to Professor Fig," the Professor moved back over by her desk.

"That I did know. He was her favorite professor." Ariadne got up from her desk.

Professor Weasley smiled warmly, "Thank you for coming to see me today, Ms. Silverthorne, I'm sure you have other things to do now."

"Anytime, Professor."

With that, Ariadne left the classroom, making her way back to the Slytherin common room.

[kylekellers]

“I heard that somewhere. Like, drinking vodka might make you more emotional, whereas drinking gin might make you feel more sensual.” He recalled there being a different drink that would bring out aggression in the drinker, but this was all from a movies, so he wasn’t surprised that it wasn’t true. “Okay, so just don’t settle for the cheap stuff” He chuckled. Kyle resisted the urge to make another joke about how Charlie was so not boring. He did wonder if he would ever see that side of Charlie. He could not imagine him drunk-dancing on a table with his clothes off. That just wasn’t the image he had of the sub, despite how they had met. The cut marks also didn’t align with the image he had created of him, but perhaps this was just a sign that they were simply becoming closer, and thus getting to know each other more. “Yeah, I think the first thing I should do is have sex, before I start thinking about kinks.” He kept saying that, but being surrounded by kinks wasn’t easy, and he had to admit his desire to wait was also getting in the way. “So, that affects your brain chemistry and it can cause you even more problems?” It sounded serious. “We haven’t covered this in the mental health class, but I can’t wait to learn more about it.”

“Oh. So, when you said you were not in a good place at the time… do you think like you weren’t ready, or there was like other stuff going on and sex kinda helped you through it?” Sitting on the chair, his full attention on Charlie now. He really wanted to know more about Charlie's experiences. “Yeah, it was when she first arrived on campus.” There was a low dreamy sigh that escaped the boy’s lips, getting even more excited by Charlie’s words. “Okay, and if it works out we can move up to salad for our second date?” While he agreed with Charlie’s take, coffee felt a little too mature for his taste. Kyle didn’t even drink coffee, but it did give him an idea. “Hey! Movie dates are great! You just have to make time for something else after. Also, I guess if you just wanna make out that's a good option."

Charlie grinned at him. Having a friend who was so innocently playful was probably going to be a very good thing for him. Other than his brothers, everyone he knew and spent time with were people he'd either scened or just had sex with. He was realizing that might be a bit of a problem. He scrunched his nose and fixed his hair as Kyle let go of his head.

He frowned and tried to think about that. "I don't think so. Drunk is pretty much drunk. If it's badly made alcohol you can end up with a worse hangover. Like cheap tequila will make you regret every single life decision you've ever made. And also you don't need to drink as much to get drunk on hard liquor just because of the alcohol content." He chewed his lip and chuckled. "Yes, very much the taking my clothes off kind of fun. I haven't had any complaints so far so that seems like a good kind of fun." He looked down at the think white lines. Miss JB was an expert with the knife and so they would heal completely and then maybe he'd have to beg her for another scene. "No not with Sir Ivan. Miss JB. She's very very good with a knife. Sir and I haven't tried it yet." He was glad to see that Kyle was taking him very seriously as he lectured about taking serious kinks seriously. "Good. There's no hurry. What's the fun in rushing through all the kinks? Take your time and enjoy each of them one by one. Build a strong foundation with the fundamentals and then you can enjoy any kink you want." He was impressed that his friend seemed not only to understand his description of dropping and was able to explain it back even more clearly. "I think so. The problem is that it's a bit unpredictable what can cause the drop so you just have to be careful and always, always do aftercare."

"Umm, fourteen." He'd heard of people losing their virginity younger, but he still felt self conscious about it. He can remember who he was at that age. A damn child and he'd gotten onto his hands and knees under the bleachers for a senior. Ridiculous. He still doesn't regret it, but truly does want better for Kyle. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Stuff hm? That implies she's probably interested. Wonderful. Hmm, well, coffee is always a safe first date. You'll be able to talk and get to know each other, but it's not as much of a commitment as dinner so you'll both feel a little more at ease. I know a lot of people suggest a movie because you don't have to talk to each, but goodness what's the point in that, right?"

[hops-hunny]

Angels on Earth

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Chubby!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.8k

Request: “CONGRATS ON 300 FOLLOWERS!!!! I love your writing sm <3

this is my first time ever making a request and recently I found out that the person I was dating is still in love with their ex so I'm looking for comfort rn hehe

could you do a 23, 33, 35 with Ron, a mix of fluff and smut? chubby/plus size fem reader please”

Summary: Ron thought he was obvious, but it was clear (Y/n) was more obvious.

Warnings: Sexual themes

A/N: This took a while but I’ve also been busy but, enjoy!

23. “Cause I never believed there was a heaven till I found you.”

33. “Would you fuck me if I was skinny?” “I’d fuck you right now.”

35. “If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just said so.”

For as long as Ron could remember, he had always found his potions partner to be beautiful. Who could blame him? (Y/n) was a beautiful girl. Round cheeks, soft all around, beautiful (h/c) hair, and the prettiest set of (e/c) eyes he had ever seen. But that wasn’t originally what drew him in, it was everything else. (Y/n) had an aura that surrounded her that was so bright, so full of life. Everyone who befriended her was always in a positive mood, smiles seen left and right from the jokes she’d tell. Even right now, with her hair pulled back from her face and the cute little goggles she insisted on wearing, he couldn’t help but admire her.

“Right. I think that should be it.” She said, pushing the goggles up her face as she turned her head to look at him. His face flushed and if she had noticed, she didn’t say much. “That is unless you fucked something up. Merlin knows how bad you are with Potions Weasley.” she giggled, his heart pulling and racing in his chest. 

“Oi! ‘M not that bad. Plus you didn’t let me touch anything, should be fine unless you managed to make a mistake.” He leaned towards her a bit with a devious smirk. “But it’s impossible for you to do that isn’t it? I forgot you were just a perfect princess.” He pulled away, eyes trained on the potion in the cauldron in front of them. Amortentia, was it? He found it a bit strange because he couldn’t smell anything but the girl’s perfume no matter how far he leaned in. In his own state of confusion, he completely missed the girl’s own shocked look on her face.

“What do you smell?” she questioned, gathering her things due to the period drawing to a close. His eyes widened at his realization before calming down. Now was a better time than ever. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before sighing.

“You.” his eyes shot open at the sound of a snort. (Y/n) had made her way towards the exit of the potions room, (e/c) eyes rolling at him as she shot him a smile. She went to leave the room before giving him an up and down.

“If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just said so.” she teased, shooting him a wink before exiting the room. He groaned, rubbing his hands up and down his face as he adjusted the awkward bulge in his pants. He stood, gathering his things as he huffed to himself.

“I’m in deep aren’t I?” he said out loud, ignoring the look his slimy potion’s teacher gave him. Without another word, he left continuing on his path to his next dreadful class of the day.

------------------------

“She probably thought you were joking.” Harry said, causing Ron to give him a glare. Even though there was a big possibility that Harry was right, he didn’t want to believe him. He thought his attempt was a good one! He was direct about what he meant, right?

“He’s got a point. You guys usually joke around and mess with each other a lot. She probably thought you were cracking a joke. Have you tried just telling her how you feel?” Luna asked as if the answer was obvious. Ron felt his brow twitch as he sighed, sinking down in his seat more as he threw his head back.

“What can be more obvious than saying you smell someone in your Amortentia? Do you guys even think?” He questioned.

“Do you? Cause if you did then you’d know that was a poor attempt.” Hermione chimed. Although at first he was sure his attempt was good, that it was obvious, suddenly he was beginning to have second thoughts. Was he clear enough? Sure, you could say one thing but he’d be the first to admit his actions didn’t match. He huffed, looking at his friends, desperation hidden in his eyes.

“Well, what should I say then?” 

“Say something truthful! Let your heart speak for what your actions couldn’t.” Ginny chimed, causing them all to give her a strange look. She crossed her arms, looking away with red cheeks. “What? I think I’d know what chicks like, I do shag em afterall.”

“So tell us, what does your heart say Ron?” Luna asked, he sighed as he racked his brain. He liked her a lot. How could he not? (Y/n) was beautiful, a gift from the heavens above. The softness of her skin, the roundness of her tummy, and those beautiful luscious thighs. He was surprised no one else had made a move on her yet. She was kind too, always willing to help her fellow (y/h/h) in need.

A lovesick dopey look took over his face. “I...I’d say…” he let out a dreamy noise as hearts took over his eyes, “I never believed there was a heaven till I found you. Never believed angels walked among us at Hogwarts, that I think she’s amazing and I-”

“Okay ew that’s enough. I’m gonna be sick. Save it for her.” his sister said, grimacing as she stood up. “And with that note, I’m gone. Why not tell  her at the Gryfindor party tonight? I’m sure she’ll be there!” Ron gulped nervously. That soon? Surely a few hours wasn’t enough time to prepare! Maybe he’d try in a few months…

However as he looked across the hall, seeing some twit practically eye fucking her, it was settled. Tonight he would tell her and if not, he’d at least make some progress.

-----------------------------------------------------

Ron let out a shaky deep breath, wiping his sweaty hands along the front of his jeans. Whether it was the sweltering heat of all the warm bodies, the shots he had taken, or the thought of what he had set out to do tonight he didn’t know, but either way he was burning like a phoenix. His eyes trailed the room nervously, looking for (Y/n). How was he sure she’d be here anyways? She wasn’t a frequent attender to parties, only showing up to them sporadically. However at the sound of a familiar laugh-snort combo, he had all he needed. 

In his buzzed(and slightly drunken) haze, he followed the sound blindly, face heating up at the girl's appearance. She wore a blush colored bodycon dress that clung to the folds and curves of her body nicely.. Her hair was styled differently than usual, but suited her perfectly nonetheless. Most things did. And when she saw him? Her face broke out in a bright smile as she hiccuped, handing her half empty cup to one of her friends. She stumbled her way over to him. He steadied her by placing his hand on her waist, looking down at her.

“Ronnn! Omg Ronnie, what’re you doing here?” she hiccuped again, giggling as she stared up at him. He smiled back at her softly, stroking along the softness of her waist.

“ I could ask you the same thing, love, you’re not much of a drinker usually.” he placed a hand on her cheek, thankful for the liquid courage flowing through his system. “You alright? Come on, let’s sit you down. You don’t seem to be too steady.” he said, guidning her towards the couch. When they got there, he expected her to sit next to him but was in shock as she parked herself in his lap. She wrapped an arm around his neck, smiling down at him drunkenly. He handed her a glass of water, the same one he had been handed earlier when he was getting a bit out of hand. She thanked him, sipping on it at a slow pace. 

After a few minutes, the hiccuping and giggles had died down from her, leaving her to form goosebumps at their current position. She was fully seated on the boy’s lap and he had his arms wrapped around her, rubbing his fingers along her soft pudgy sides. She bit her lip as she looked off to the side, before bringing her eyes back to his.

“Uh, Ron,” she started, looking down as she picked at the skin around her nail beds. Letting out a deep sigh, she continued, “Can I ask you something?” her heart began to race rapidly as she looked at him, watching as he nodded before offering her a soft smile.

“Course. What’s up?” How should she phrase it? Should she be simple? Should she-

“Would you fuck me if I was skinny?” she blurted out, eyes widening. Although she had wanted to ask him something about if he was attracted to her, she hadn’t intended on being so...bold. She was known for speaking her mind but not in situations like this! In a state of panic, she went to stand up but was pulled down by a strong pair of arms, pulling her close to an even stronger, toned chest. He chuckled in her ears, hair tickling the edge of her neck.

“Shit princess, I mean...I’d fuck you right now.” his grip on her sides tightened, trailing one hand on her thigh. Out of all the things she could’ve said, this was the last one Ron expected. (Y/n), his snarky potions partner, in his lap in that god forsaken dress asking if he’d fuck her. He felt his own heart begin to race. Did she mean to say it? Well, did she mean to say it to him? Or did she just want his opinion for someone else?

“O-oh.” she stuttered out. (Y/n) pulled back some, turning her head to look at him, finding that his eyes instantly were drawn to hers. 

“Do you mean that?” they both asked. Ron’s cheeks turned red as (Y/n) felt her own face grow warm. Both of them let out breaths they didn’t even know they were holding, laughing with one another.

“I meant it but, did you?” she asked, breath hitching of the closeness of their faces to one another. She could smell the fire whiskey mixed with hints of cannabis and weed mixing with it making her absolutely intoxicated. He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers.

“‘Course I did, love. You don’t have to be skinny for me to do anything with you, let alone fuck you. Because trust me,” he trailed a hand along her upper thigh, sliding it between the soft expanse of them. “It’d be my pleasure to fuck a woman with a body like yours. A woman so soft, so tender, bet that cunt of yours is tight and dripping. Isn’t it?” the girl squeaked, clenching her thighs around his hand. He leaned down, pecking her lips softly before pulling away, (Y/n) whimpering  in a desperate attempt to let him know she wanted more..

“And if I were to grant you that pleasure right now?” she purred, placing a soft hand on his cheek which he gladly leaned into, a dark chuckle leaving his lips.

“I’d be the luckiest man alive.”

[peter-parcoeur]

Good girl gone bad | (frat!tom)

request: How about frat cocky Tom at a Christmas party, wearing something that shows off his muscles, and he keeps flirting with y/n, who hates him. Throughout the night, he slowly wins her over, and once he has her in the palm of his hand, he makes her compliment him and then worship his muscles and then get on her knees and suck on him through his boxer briefs and then finally he f*cks her face and he's dirty talking and boasting all the way through :)

disclaimer: Hiii, so this was a request (sadly anonymous but if you’re out there reading this, I hope you enjoy and this lives up to your expectations...) this is my first attempt at fratboy!tom so I apologize in advance if that’s not exactly what you expected from it or whatever. Also I’m french so, some unfortunate spelling mistakes may occur and for this I apologize too! (damn I do really know how to sell myself, don’t I?) Anyway, enjoy your reading and please give it a ♥ if you liked it and a comment if you either really liked or hated it. Annnnd I’m talking too much.

warnings: smut smut smutty smut is to be expected, obviously. includes: brat!tom, braggy!tom, boasting!tom and some serious potty mouth / enemies to lovers (well, more like enemies to fuckbuddies idk) / oral-sex / face-fuck / dirtyDIRTY talk/ fingering / brief mentions of self luuuuvin (that’s masturbation, for you) / dom!tom + sub!reader / I guess a little bit of humiliation and praise kink idk if that’s triggering so just in case... / roughness... I guess that’s it? probably enough already.

____________________________________________________

« Come on, it’ll be fun! God knows you could really use some fun… » your friend’s voice almost begged over the phone as you safely locked it between your cheek and your shoulder to open the door to your dorm room, your keyrings grazing the piece of metal surrounding the lock with a soft, clicking noise.

“Yeah cause hanging out with complete morons as they get shit-faced on cheap vodka is totally my idea of a good night...”

“ Urghhhh, Y/N please, are you really gonna be a Grinch about it?”

“  Well, it’s a Christmas party so I guess that’s convenient?”

You could tell your friend was getting frustrated by now, the slight change of tone in her voice making her sound desperate. Kicking off your shoes and dropping your books above the mess on your desk, you immediately crashed onto your bed with a loud, exhausted groan as this never-ending day had managed to push every single one of your buttons. You felt completely drained and yet, your best-friend wanted you to join her to some frat-house where, apparently, the “most incredible” Christmas party was about to be held? Uh-uh. No way. Your actual plan for a Friday night (= eating take-out food in front of some true crime documentary on Netflix) seemed much more appealing than the effort your friend seemed to require from you.

“You’re really gonna bail on me? What if something happens to me?”

“Now this is guilt pressure and you’re so much better than this! “ You laughed, “plus… I know you wanna go just so you can make out with Harrison… You really don’t need me for this and truth be told, I really don’t need to see that guy shove his tongue down your throat!”

“Maybe YOU need someone to shove his tongue down your throat “

“I’ll pass, thanks “

“Come on, how long has it been since you’ve got laid? “

“That’s… way beside the point?””

Still, you thought about it.

How long has it been, really?

Well. As far as you could remember, there were a couple (disastrous) tinder dates at the beginning of the semester. Nothing major even though the sex was still okay. Then you had decided to delete the app so you could focus on your studies, thinking that, eventually, life would grant you with an actual IRL, cute boy who could actually work a little harder to get into your pants whereas it had taken a single swipe on a screen for the previous contestants.

But for now, as the semester had come to an end and Christmas break was around the corner, it only occurred to you just how busy you had been, studying all night long and running on fumes and gallons of coffee. Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you truly needed to blow off some steam. Sometimes you wished you were more like her, carefree and less picky when it came to boys and random flings. Like her current crush, Harrison.

Harrison was a typical heartthrob with the face of a Greek God, so it was only natural for him to act like a brat and play with girls as he wished. With his piercing blue eyes and dreamy smile, girls could only wish he would look at them twice. But still, he wasn’t the worst part of Team Jackass, as you liked to call them. Their captain was actually Tom Holland. Football Quarterback, Tom collected girls’ hearts like trophies and held his pride within his questionable reputation. Party animal, heavy drinker and confirmed exhibitionist since he’d been caught fucking a cheerleader in the middle of the football field right after a game, his name was on everyone’s lips, whether they whispered gossips down the faculty’s corridor or muffled into a pillow as he dived into another naïve, besotted girl with the promise of an encore. To this day, all of the girls he had laid his eyes on were still waiting for a call-back.

You pulled a disgusted face at the thought of witnessing his little hunting game one more time. Tom was actually one of the main reasons why you usually skipped any frat party now. There were just so much time you could waste, sipping on some funky tasting “home-made” punch as “Football superstar” Tom Holland bragged about his athletic skills or how many girls he had fucked over the last couple days. Sometimes, it felt like a competition between him and his brain-dead friends. Somehow, you just knew he kept score of his one-night stands. Maybe he’d give you five stars for trying anal, a deep throat would give you another six and god forbid if you flattered his enormous, gigantic cock, well then, by all means, the throne would be yours. There was just something about him that screamed and irradiated praise kink.

“Y/N? Have I lost you?”

Your friend’s voice brought you back to reality as you seemed to have blacked out for a while.

Then, out of nowhere and unexpectedly, the words came out of your mouth.

“What time is the party then?”

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For every party, there’s a dress code.

Surely, a “Christmas” party just couldn’t be, without a fair splash of colorful jumpers or any subtle hints at Santa Clause as an excuse for a last-minute theme. Still, standing in front of what could only be Wednesday Addams’ wardrobe, you were suddenly hit by your lack of interest for any piece of clothes that wasn’t a shade between black and white. Was beige even a color anyway?

For a brief second, you considered wearing your infamous Christmas onesie, basically a fluffy one piece with a zipper, an oversized hood and covered with snowflakes and candy canes. The jokes would never end but no one could blame you for being ‘off theme’, then.

In the end, you settled for a rare “colorful” top which, luckily, happened to be whatever shade of green Christmas trees actually were. It was also skin tight and you knew for a fact it made your chest looks twice its size because of the way the velvet fabric enhanced your waistline. It was nowhere near provocative with its long sleeves and turtle-neck so you figured you could be a little bit more risky with the bottom part of your outfit, grabbing the black mini-skirt you’d bought a week before on a splurge, even though you didn’t know if you’d ever find the confidence to pull it off. It was short, there was no denying that as you turned around in the shop’s fitting room to catch a glimpse at your backside, knowing your whole ass would be exposed if you ever dared to bend down even so slightly.

Still, you felt sexy in it and as a girl who happily traded a sexy dress for yoga pants and an oversized hoodie, any piece of clothes that made you feel good about yourself was an instant buy.

Looking down at your final outfit as it laid down on your bed, a pair of nice ankle boots at the bottom of it, you patted yourself on the back for making the extra effort and walked to the bathroom for a well-deserved boiling shower.  Staring at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you sighed to yourself as the aftermath of a sleep deprived week and lack of skin care routine or basic maintenance whatsoever hit you like a truck on the highway. Your hair had been wrapped into the same messy bun for days and it would definitely take some professional skills to cover up the bags under your eyes.

Maybe this party was the wake-up call you needed, the equivalent of a Judging look from your mother every time you visited her after a while. You could almost hear her complain about how unhealthy you looked and how you should wear more “flattering” clothes. Ironically, you also knew she would never approve the skirt you intended to wear that night. You remembered just too well that frown she’d given you at your father’s 60th birthday and how you had to gulp an entire bottle of red wine to forget about the fact the woman who gave birth to you had called you a prostitute for wearing a dress above the knees. Sometimes it’d be like that. Family gathering were like a plague, somehow, you just couldn’t escape it and it would either scar you for life or make you wish you were dead.

As you entered the cubicle, the coldness of the tiles hit you, covering your skin with goosebumps and sending shivers down your spine. It took you a couple minutes to adjust as you waited for the water to turn hot enough to coat the mirror with a thick foggy layer. Only then did you relax, letting go of this week’s emotionally charged weight upon your shoulders and focusing on yourself, at last.

It was a fairly long shower as you decided to go through your entire haircare routine instead of a brief, one minute shampoo. Not to mention the fact you also had to shave entirely as it felt like it would be a good way to get rid of this nightmare of a semester, like stepping out of your old skin and into a new one. Usually, body hair was probably too far down the list of your preoccupations to even be noticed but you figured, as you felt surprisingly motivated, now was the right time to make your body smooth as a baby. You actually loved the feeling of a soft, freshly shaved skin.

As you rinsed off the soap, your hands fondling the body parts water failed to reach, your mind unexpectedly wandered through some steamy thoughts as soon as your fingertips grazed your slit, taking some shy dip between your folds. It was no surprise that a simple, barely there stroke would instantly strike your arousal, after all, it had been a while. You shamelessly admitted that your studies had taken over your life, up to the point you’d even find yourself too exhausted for some self-love. Somewhere in your chest of drawers, the small collection of adult toys you owned were probably collecting dust in the middle of your socks and panties, wondering when they’d get to take a swim and make you squirm into your sheets as you hold on to the headboard, biting your lip until it turns white so you don’t scream through climax.

What struck you the most was the fact TomfuckingHolland came to your mind the very second your middle finger met your clit, circling it softly as you felt electricity spark through your legs, making it jolt. Why the hell was his stupid smug splattered all over your unspeakable thoughts when he was, by far, the last man on Earth you’d let come close to your naked self? Let alone in a shower cubicle the size of a shoe-box where you’d have no space whatsoever to escape his heavy, muscular chest.

His body looked ridiculously built for a man with the face of a 13 year-old. Sometimes you’d catch him randomly flex throughout the day, showing off his enormous biceps to anyone willing to praise his impeccable shape. There would be no room for these guns in there, you thought as a brief image of these massive arms shielding you from both side, fists tight against the tiles, came immediately to your mind. What took you by surprise wasn’t to actually picture Tom standing in there with you, naked and definitely willing to make that room a lot steamier, but the fact you slipped a finger into your surprisingly dripping core as soon as you imagined him stepping closer so your bare, sticky chests would meet, his obvious arousal poking at your inner thigh, begging to make an entrance.

You stopped before you inevitably came, even though your body craved for that well-deserved relief. You may have been hornier than you thought, but not nearly horny enough to hand your first orgasm in months on a silver plate to a boy who probably stroked himself in front of a mirror on a daily basis. Your thighs squeezed together where your fingers had left a desperate void, rinsing your entire body with a much colder water, hoping it would bring your sanity back.

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You looked incredible.

It wasn’t just you boosting your ego through a pep talk in front of your mirror back in your dorm this time, and even if you loved to give yourself an encouraging speech, praising whatever features you thought made the cut in the top three of your best assets as you gathered the strength to go out in public in an outfit pretty far from your comfort zone, nothing could ever beat the look people gave you as you walked into the frat house looking like a three courses meal. There was just something about that short time slot where you caught a gaze and knew what that look was all about.

You knew Liza, the head student with a soft spot for athletes so obvious she probably had the entire football team’s handprints tattooed on her skin, just hated to see you get the attention she usually caught. Athletes loved nerdy, smart-ass girls like her, but to her own despair, you actually happened to be one of those, only with a shorter skirt and thicker thighs.

You knew half of Team Jackass was already staring at you, wishing they’d catch a glimpse of whatever you had to offer underneath that impeccable outfit as the soft fabric of your skirt kept rising up, every step bringing you closer to an unfortunate peek at the plain, white cotton undies you had chosen to wear that night.

But above anything, you could most definitely feel someone’s gaze upon you, burning up your skin like lasers trying to scan through your clothes. Suddenly, you felt exposed and with a simple smirk, Tom-Holland came out, strong as ever, just so he could pop out the comforting bubble you had built around you. Of course, he had chosen to wear the tightest white tee-shirt so everyone could distinctively see each of his six, rock-hard abs. Of course, his sleeves were slightly rolled up to enhance his biceps and if you weren’t familiar with his despicable behavior, seeing him flex just so he could kiss the pumped-up mount irrupting from his upper arm like a fresh batch of popcorn on a stove, you could have barfed immediately at the disgusting sight of a man with an ego the size of a fucking comet.

For now, you simply rolled your eyes all the way to the back of your head and watched as he smiled cockily, his hand reaching out for a redhead girl’s cheek even though his eyes were most definitely undressing you from afar. You could tell the girl had dressed to impress as she was tightly wrapped into the just-slutty-enough version of Santa’s outfit. Basically a velvet red dress with a fluffy white strap on top of her bustier. The way she laughed and twirled her long curly strand of hair as she gazed lovingly at Tom was enough for you to know she would soon join the never-ending list of names on his score board.

Shaking your head at how easy it seemed for him to get laid within the first hour of a party, you made your way to the kitchen where the alcohol seemed to be. As expected, most students were already sipping at some questionable cocktail right from the bowl with a straw and since you didn’t feel like going straight for the strong stuff, you settled for a beer, fiddling with the bottle cap for a solid minute before you heard a voice coming from behind your back.

“Need some hand with that, sweetheart?”

The cocky tone and thick accent immediately sent you off as a long, single shiver ran down your spine from the disgusting thoughts it brought along. It had come to the point you couldn’t even stand his stupid voice.

“I’m fine, thanks” you lied, your first still tightly gripped on your sealed beverage.

“You look like you could use some strength…”

Of course, he had to bring up his impressive, spectacular strength within seconds. Maybe he expected you to slow clap, bow down or throw confetti’s all over him for being strong enough to open a beer bottle. What on Earth would you do without his strong, manly hands?

Grinding your teeth as your tongue clicked against your palate out of pure annoyance, you gave him the most unimpressed look as he grabbed the bottle from your hand, popping out the cap hard enough to make it fly off and hit the table with a soft, metallic thump. Smirking to himself, Tom handed you the bottle back, tilting his head as he obviously expected some enthusiastic reaction.

“Do you want a medal or something?”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would be a good start? “He mocked, raising his eyebrows in a way that made your consider throwing the entire bottle at his face to wash away his stupid cockiness.

“Thanks” you simply blurted out, raising your beer slightly before walking away as you took a couple sips. It wasn’t even that cold or remotely good.

Tom watched as you walked away in silence, his eyes inevitably drawn to the way your hips and that glorious ass of yours seemed to wiggle into that daunting skirt. Grazing his thumb over his bottom lip with a smirk, the eager flame in his eyes made his will to take you to a quiet place grow bigger with each step you took.

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The music was getting considerably louder as people were now dancing all over the place, from the staircase to whatever was left of furniture after too many parties hosted in this house.  The constant buzzing sound of chit-chats and laughter was slowly making your head spin as you gulped on your third (or was it the fourth?) Shot of tequila. As expected, Y/BFF/N had wasted no time as she was already clinging to Harrison’s neck, feasting on his mouth like an open buffet. His hands were on her bum, holding on to it for dear life with a strong grip. At least, she was having fun.

Out of boredom and to your own surprise, you had agreed on doing shots with a couple people you knew from class. Not technically what you’d call reliable friends but you always bumped into them at parties where you’d basically chat, and drink. From afar, you could see some people had gathered around a table where Team Jackass had started the inevitable beer pong contest. Nibbling at a piece of lime, hoping it would wash away the burning haze of the tequila, you winced at the sourness as your eyes suddenly locked with Tom’s. He was now holding his arms up on both side, raising one fist through the air as he had clearly won that first round. There was something pathetic about a man in his twenties begging for attention and acting like he was about to claim the gold medal at the Olympics when all he did was throw a feather-weighted plastic ball into a red cup.

All the alcohol in the world would never get you drunk enough to tolerate this guy.

Sometimes, you couldn’t help but think it was a shame to see him act so pitiful when he face was actually okay. Well. He was definitely cute as long as his mouth was shut and his stupid, pretentious smug out of the way. With his soft, chocolate brown eyes, his tousled eyebrows and thin pink lips, he could’ve been a guy you’d be interested in. His brown hair was somehow, always tucked into a snapback or a beanie but you had caught a glimpse of his natural curls once and though it killed you on the inside to admit it, he did look great when he didn’t try too hard to be a complete asshole.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t see him walk towards you.

“We’re doing shots now? “

“Impressive” you frowned, “did you figure it out all by yourself?” you chuckled, swallowing what’s left of lime, basically pulp, in one soft gulp.

“You like to act all smart ass around me, don’t you?”

“Correction: I am, in fact, smart… Not that it’s something you’re familiar with so, pardon me if it’s all too confusing for you… “

“Are you calling me dumb, then?” he was frowning now, his enormous self-centered head deflating under the unexpected pressure of your witty come-back.

“Did you hear the word ‘dumb’ coming out of my mouth?”

“No – but I sure know what I would like to see come in that sweet mouth of yours, darling”

The fact he had the nerves to say that kind of stuff right to your face was enough to piss you off but what caught you off guard was his hand reaching for your face as his thumb delicately grazed your bottom lip, pulling at it just enough for you to taste his fingertip.

“Surely, lime isn’t the only thing you like to suck on?” he smiled, cocky as ever as you could feel actual rage building up from your core and all the way to the back of your throat.

“I suggest you keep your hands off me” you snapped, pushing his hand off your face as he laughed to himself, the raspy sound caught in his throat making you throb against all odds.

“Or what? What you gonna do about it, uh?” he teased, confident as ever, his words coming out of his mouth halfway between a threat and a challenge. His arms were crossed against his chest now, making every inch of muscle he owned just pop out. There was nothing sweet about the way his body was built, and was he ever given the occasion, you knew he could break your spine in half with his one hand. You just wished you’d never thought about it as the filthiest images came to your mind, starting with Tom spinning you around over the sink in the bathroom and pinning you down with his palm pressed between your shoulder blades as he pounded hard and fast into you.

Maybe Tequila had gotten to your head faster than you expected.

“I know girls like you” he started, walking backwards until your back hit the wall and you were completely trapped between his arms, one of his leg parting yours so his knee would slowly graze that spot where your thighs met, claiming his access to that precious part of your body you could definitely feel getting damper against your will.

“What about it?” you asked, slightly more provocative than you had intended.

“You like to act all innocent, pretending you have higher standards…” His breath was warm, wrapped into the thickness of alcohol, curving a ball at the back of his throat so his voice would come out raspier and lower than usual, “… but secretly you just want guys like me to fuck the back of your throat until you choke”.

You felt it. Your pussy throb at the single thought of it. You didn’t want to physically react to these obscene images, words coming out of his mouth filthier than anything you’d ever heard, but still, as hard as you wanted to remain cold and unbothered, there was no denying for the dampness between your thighs. You just hoped he wouldn’t get a chance to notice it.

“You disgust me” it took you all the strength you had to spat back at him, and even then, all he did was smile then chuckle softly to himself as his hand slid up your throat, wrapping it slowly until his thumb pressed itself into the crook under your chin, nesting as it was made to be there.

“Please—are you really going to pretend you’ve never thought about my cock filling up your pretty mouth?” his fingers found your lips again, tracing it slowly as your heartbeat increased with each word, “like you’ve never thought about me when you finger yourself at night” he paused, pinching his bottom lip between his teeth as he tilted his head, his mouth coming closer to your hear with a dark whisper “I know you do, baby… I know you touch yourself thinking of me, wishing those fingers were mine, diving into your dripping cunt… Touching spots you could only wish you’d reach… how I would spread those lips open and run my tongue all over your slit….” A warm breeze brushed your neck as a cursed laugh escaped his lips, making you squirm unexpectedly, “I bet you taste so sweet, I would never get enough of that glorious pussy…”

By now, you were wrapped into the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It was strong and manly as expected, yet comforting in a way you didn’t want to think about. You didn’t want to picture yourself wearing that grey hoodie he loved to wear after a game, his perfume raining over your bare chest as you’d lazily ride him on his dorm bed after you’d get bored of whatever movie you’d settled for, pushing your panties to the side as he couldn’t be bothered taking it off completely. You didn’t want to picture him unzipping that same hoodie, palming your boob with one of his strong hands as his mouth sucked on your nipple until your soft, delicate skin turned red from all the biting marks. You didn’t want to feel yourself stretch around his rock-hard cock as he’d lift your legs up to wrap it around his neck, because he’s that kind of jerk who likes to show off even when he’s completely buried inside of you, that kind of complete asshole who loves to remind you just how deep he can go, smirking to himself as he hits your special spot over and over and over…. until you beg for him to stop. That kind of utterly disgusting dickhead who’d never stop, because he knows that, deep down, you just want him to keep going.

“Now you can tell me you’re not already wet… But we both know that’s a lie” he smiled again and as you felt his hand going down, palming you through your top and all the way down to the front of your skirt, you finally decided to come to your senses and grabbed his wrist into your tight fist, stopping him just in time before he’s reached the only approval he truly needed.

“Go to hell, Holland” you snapped, using all of your strength to push him off and walk away.

You didn’t turn back to see him chuckle at the sight of your flushed face.

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The coldness of water came as a shock as you bent over the sink in the bathroom, splashing your face until it didn’t feel like your skin was on fire. Grabbing a towel, you patted your cheeks and forehead, staring at the reflection in front of you. You definitely looked flustered, like you had just run a marathon when all you really did was to suffer through your archenemy’s evil little game.

Usually, you would have just brushed it off and that’d be it. But tonight, for some reason, you just couldn’t seem to shake him off your thoughts, his voice still echoing through your head like a curse without a cure. Outside the bathroom, you could hear the muffled sound of music and screams coming from the living room as beer-pong had turned into strip-pong with everyone removing a piece of clothes every time the ball missed the cup. Typical, drunken behavior. Soon enough these parties would turn into a massive orgy and it wouldn’t even come out as a big surprise.

Freshen up a little had helped you settle your thoughts back into place but still, your body didn’t seem to catch a break as the build-up tension and frustration Tom had caused within your core was yet to be released. There was no denying that your toys would have come handy if you were back to your dorm room as it felt like your pussy kept clenching for no reason, like the gaping mouth of the thirstiest man in the middle of a drought. You knew how bad you needed to put it out of its misery but if you thought undressing for a ping pong game was bad, what would happen if anyone walked on you literally fingering yourself in the bathroom of a frat-house? No one would shut up about it.

Tom would certainly not. Shut. Up. About. It. Ever.

You pressed your thighs together, hoping for some sort of relief as his words came back haunting you, thinking about how your hand had found its way between your legs earlier in the shower, the very second you had thought about his body pushing you up against the tiles. Is that what he was to you, now? A fantasy? Would you become another disgusting cliché of a girl begging for the typical frat boy to fuck her at a party because she couldn’t handle his dirty mouth?

Then you thought about your best-friend and how the last time you’d seen her, she was heading upstairs with Harrison, giggling, her lipstick smudged all over her chin after making out heavily on the couch up to the point everyone was starting to wonder whether they should be charged for that kind of peep-show or just roll with it. How she was probably getting fucked in his bedroom while you were standing alone in a bathroom, dripping wet for a man you hated down to the very bottom of your guts.

The door swung open abruptly, making you jump.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding!” Tom smiled, walking in.

“Can’t a girl have some privacy?”

“I need to take a piss, you’re the one standing out there doing nothing” he joked, walking to the toilets with his hands already fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

“Hum, excuse me?” you spat, widening your eyes as you realized he was genuinely about to use the toilets with you still standing a few meters away.

“I said I needed to take a piss… So either you just stand there watching, which I don’t mind really… or you can get out?” he pointed his chin towards the door, unbothered as he casually pulled his dick out of his boxers.

Both infuriated and shocked, you turned around as there was no point leaving the room now that his whole junk was out and already halfway through it.

“Do you have to be that disgusting? Really you’re such a pig!” you complained as you heard him sigh with relief before the toilet flush broke the most awkward silence of your entire existence.

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll clean it up real nice just for you…” he smiled even though you still had your back turned to him. You heard him use the tap, washing his hands for a considerably long amount of time. At least he wasn’t one of those filthy rats who thought basic hygiene was optional.

“What were you doing by the way?” he finally asked, grabbing the towel to your left, “touching yourself thinking about me?”

You turned around to face his cocky face once more, this time with a furious need to slap it. Hard.

“You know I’ve seen you walking around campus a couple times, Y/N… Those big jumpers and yoga pants you like to wear don’t do that body any justice, but this?” he circled his finger in the air, pointing out her entire outfit “this, I like to see… and if you weren’t being a little brat I would gladly pull up that skirt up to your waist and have you there, above the sink…”

“I’m being a brat?” you scoffed. That was rich, coming from the ultimate king of bratty assholes.

“Well you call it whatever you like but denying yourself something you truly need just to prove a point seems a little childish…” he shrugged, shoving his hands into this jeans pocket and giving you a perfect glimpse at the veins running up his arms and disappearing underneath his rolled up sleeves.

“You think all girls are begging for you to fuck them? Really?”

“Probably, yeah, and who could blame them really? I have a great cock and I’ve never had a single bad review about the way I use it…” he smiled, with the arrogance of a king sitting on a throne of indecency.

“You’re so full of yourself… it’s insane” you shook your head with pure disgust.

“Then go ahead and prove it”

“Prove what, exactly?”

“That you’re not dripping wet as we speak…”

Point taken.

You were, indeed, dripping wet and soon enough, you’d have some serious explaining to do as the thin cotton fabric of your underwear was now soaked with your unsolicited arousal. Even though your head was filled with hateful thoughts and resentment for Tom, it felt like your body would not stop begging for his touch, dragging him closer like two pieces of magnets on a fridge. Unconsciously, you were now standing a couple inch away from his face, so close you could actually smell the soft mixt of menthol and alcohol from his breath. There was no point denying the obvious tension between you two as you looked like you were about to break into a passionate kiss but now it was just a fight between your will for self-preservation and your body, aching to be touched.

And so you heard yourself say these words you never thought you’d say, like you were standing in the audience as your other self was performing on stage, making some questionable decisions you weren’t 100% okay with.

“Which one’s your bedroom?”

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You could have fought longer, for the sake of your personal values, but as your feet were swiped off the ground, your back hitting the door as it closed behind you with a loud slam, all of your good sense and respectable choices just vanished as much filthier thoughts buried them for good.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist as his hands had wasted no time and found their way under your top, fondling your breast with the hunger of a wolf. Your lips attached to his, you moaned louder than expected as he pushed himself a little harder against you, the obvious stiffness of his crotch pressing against your aching core. Your skirt had risen up to your waist from spreading your legs a little too wide, flashing your white panties as it was now so soaked you could definitely see the outline of your lips, the thin fabric sticking to your slit. Catching your breath, heavy pants breaking your kiss, you looked into Tom’s eyes only to see nothing but pure, absolute lust in them. As you tugged at his brown locks, a couple strand curling slightly at the back of his neck, you watched as his snapback fell to the floor with a thump, unleashing his brown untamed mane.

Suddenly, he didn’t seem so bad, groaning slightly as your fingers scrapped the back of his neck, your lips sucking on his throat for good measures. With his head tilted back slightly, it felt like Tom was getting soft for a while, caving in so you could take control over him. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long as he suddenly traced a hand all the way down to your inner thigh, immediately pushing your panties to the side with his middle finger.

“I knew it…” he smiled, sliding his finger along your slit as you wrapped it up with a glistening coat of arousal. You knew he had won the minute he felt just how wet you were for him, but when it should have been upsetting, you just didn’t care. All you needed now was to feel his cock filling you up in any way he wanted, “who made you this wet, darling?” he smiled, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Don’t be a brat…” you complained as you could see some mischief in the way he looked at you.

“Just say it” he insisted “I want to hear you say out loud just how wet I make you” this wasn’t a request, but an order. And for some obscure reason you didn’t want to figure out, it somehow turned you on even more.

“You…” you started, biting your lip out of nerves, or out of excitement, you weren’t sure quite yet. “You make me so wet, Tom” you almost moaned, pushing yourself a little harder against his hand when he failed to give you exactly what you needed. His fingers. Buried deep inside of you.

“Hmm” Tom groaned, two of his digits spreading your lips apart at a torturing slow pace, “I like the sound of that…” his knuckles were barely halfway when you buckled your hips off the door, begging for more, “what’s that darling? Tell me what you want…” he was whispering by now, slowly pushing his fingers into your desperate slit, “I want to hear you beg for it…”

You felt him push deeper, curving his fingers into a hook every time he reached your g-spot. By now you were so aroused you just knew it would take you more than a couple stroke to cum heavily into his awaiting palm. You could hear the sloppy sound of your own wetness every time he slammed his slick, extremely skilled digits back into your throbbing pussy. His lips curved into a hasty smile as he could feel you literally drip all over his palm and wrist.

“I want you… I want you so much” you barely managed to whimper as he increased the pace, his wrist working its magic between your thighs.

“Hmm hmm? I’m gonna need you to be more specific baby… what exactly do you want?” his thumb grazed your clit for a brief second and that was enough for you to squeal under his touch, making you clench suddenly around his fingers, “say you want my cock” he almost growled as you felt his hard-on twitch against your thigh, begging to be freed.

“I want your cock” you immediately wimped, your own words sending shivers down your spine as you twitched with anticipation, “I want it so, so bad…”

“Good girl…” he hummed, slowing down the pace so he could add a third finger, stretching you out slightly this time, “d’you think you can take it though? It’s pretty big…” he smiled, twisting his hand just enough so he could dig himself a path.

You simply nodded, unable to speak anymore, but as you were about to beg for more, Tom removed his hand, leaving you frustrated and hornier than ever. His face changed suddenly as he watched you pout, his hand reaching up for your lips.

“What about that pretty mouth, then? You think it may fit?” he smiled, spreading your lips apart so you could taste yourself on his soaked fingers. You immediately obliged, sucking at it, one by one, never keeping your eyes off him. When he shoved three of his digits, watching as your tongue twirled around it, cleaning it off completely, you could definitely tell his eyes had gotten darker, filled with unspeakable thoughts you would be begging to hear soon.

“You’re gonna let me fuck that pretty face?” he added, removing his fingers from your mouth so he could give you a soft, cheeky slap on the cheek. You nodded, obedient as ever. “Say it” he commanded, louder this time, “say you want my cock inside your mouth”.

“I want it… I want your cock inside my mouth” you pouted, only because you knew he loved to see you beg like a spoiled little princess. You’d seen it in his eyes, the way he looked at you every time you tilted your head to fake an innocence that was long gone.

Tom stepped back, walking away slowly as he watched you standing there, flustered, your hair all over the place, panting out of lust and frustration. Pulling his shirt off, you watched as his impressive chest unveiled in front of you. Abs like rocks, a thin strand of hair tracing a path from his navel to his crotch, disappearing under his jeans, his impeccable V-line bringing images you never thought you had within yourself. As he pushed his hair back, daunting you with his a look half way between arrogance and disdain, it felt like all signs of dignity had left your brain as all you could think about was to crawl to the floor and beg for his cock.

“What you’re waiting for then, Darling?” he smiled, unzipping his flies as he watched you walk towards him and get on your knees within seconds.

Your hands pulled at his jeans until it finally pooled around his ankles. Looking up to stare into his eyes, you felt both small and powerful, submissive but in control as you were now responsible for this man pleasure. It was up to you whether he’ll get to cum or not. But as you considered edging him as an option, Tom wasted no time in remembering you who was actually in charge.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he sighed, grabbing your hair into a fist as his other hand stroked his cock through the cotton fabric of his boxers. You could tell he was just horny as you were as a couple pre-cum had already stained his briefs, turning it into a darker shade of grey.

Again, you nodded, removing his hand so you could replace it with yours, palming him through his briefs as he growled against your touch. He was big. Actually much bigger than you expected but somehow, you were up for a challenge. Tracing the outline of his cock with your fingers tips, you felt him push his hands on the back of your head, forcing you to come closer to his crotch.

“I want to fuck your pretty little mouth so, so bad” he groaned as you unexpectedly ran your tongue all over his stiff through the fabric, feeling it twitch as you palmed his balls. By now he was so hard you could feel the veins tracing a dirty road up to his leaking head as Tom started grinding slowly against your mouth, messing up your hair with his desperate fists.

When you pulled down his boxers, you took a couple seconds to stare at his glorious manhood, hard and pressed against his abdomen where it curved slightly, your mouth watering with a thirst you could have never pictured, especially when standing in Tom Holland’s bedroom. And yet, you couldn’t wait to have this magnificent piece of flesh filling up your mouth.

“Like what you see?” Tom smirked, boasting as ever but immediately squinting his eyes with a deep growl the minute he felt your tongue licking at the base, slowly going up until you finally bobbed on his creaming head.

You had always been good at this, giving head. Not that all of your partners would give you a proper review in the morning, pointing out your highs and lows, but there were just things men couldn’t do, like hiding the fact they were just having the time of their lives. And right now, Tom actually looked like there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be than standing here, with his cock in your mouth.

Twirling your hand at the base where you mouth couldn’t go just yet, you started bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking your cheeks in so your mouth would pop every time his dick came out. You had quickly figured out a couple things about Tom, including the fact he just seemed to love it dirty and noisy. You could actually hear him growl louder, his fist tightening its grip into your hair every time he slipped off your lips, only for him to shove it back a little harder and definitely deeper with each thrust.

“That’s it baby… Just like that… you’re such a good girl…”

You were a good girl, indeed. Always had been. Straight-A’s student from day one, the pride and joy of your parents, spending most of your week-ends doing some volunteer work whenever it was needed while being a caring, polite girl who never did anything wrong. Right choices only.

Or so you thought. Obviously, tonight would be always marked as the only questionable decision on your impeccable path to perfection. But still, as Tom grabbed your face with both hands to push himself deeper and all the way down your throat, making you gasp for air slightly, you had no regrets.

You stayed still for as long as your lungs could handle it, holding on to his firm, muscular buttocks as you swallowed him all. Looking down on you, Tom was left speechless as his cock stretched your cheeks out, his balls resting into your palm as you twitched them slowly, making it jolt with both pain and pleasure. When you felt like you were about to gag, you pushed yourself back, gasping for air as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Your cheeks felt numb and yet it missed the feeling of being stretched out already.

“Hmmm baby look at you…. you think you’re ready for it?”

“Yeah” was all you could blurt out. Yes to anything he wanted. You were prepared. You longed for it.

Looking around as Tom started pumping himself, getting ready for you, spitting into his palm to lube himself up so your lips wouldn’t drag along his shaft too much, you just couldn’t believe you were there, kneeling on the navy carpet of Tom Holland’s bedroom, the epitome of the ultimate frat boy. A huge flag from his favorite sports team was hanging above his bed, his never-ending hats collection sitting on wooden shelves by the wall like it was some kind of “frat boy starter pack” Art exhibition. In the corner of the room, you caught an unexpected glimpse at a guitar. It looked fairly new, but never in a million years would you have pictured Tom playing guitar. On his desk, his laptop was still open on a Spotify tab where you’d probably find a playlist based on some typical white boy rap music but against all odds, the room looked neat compared to what you had in mind.

“You look so beautiful” he sighed, out of nowhere, and to be completely honest, had your mouth not been filled with his dick, you would have probably picked up your jaw from the floor. Taking him all in once more, you just pretended you couldn’t hear, sparing you some awkward misunderstanding. Maybe those words were actually directed to his dick. After all, the boy loved himself just that much.

His hands were all over your face, wiping tears from your eyes every time he hit the back of your throat a little too hard, stroking your cheeks, massaging the back of your neck, roaming through your tangled hair as your kept up with his reckless pace, his hips swinging back and forth while you remained completely still so you could take him like a champ.

“God, I love to see you choke on my cock….” He gritted through his teeth “so…so hot…” you could tell he was getting sloppier now, pumping in and out of your mouth abruptly then a lot more slower as a couple twitch from his cock gave you a hint of his upcoming grand finale.

By now, you were a slippery mess, the taste of pre-cum hitting your throat as you dribbled all over his shaft, obscene sounds of suction coming out of your mouth every time he pushed himself out and back in all over again.

“F----uuuuck….fuck baby I’m gonna come!” he grunted, the sudden high-pitch of his broken voice driving you insane as you pushed yourself up a little so you could open your mouth wider, expecting him to fill it up soon enough. “D’you want me to cum in your mouth? Uh?” again, he gave you a little slap on the cheek, not quite hard enough for you to feel any pain. You nodded, moaning whatever came close to a “yes” as every single inch of your mouth was filled with Tom.

You heard him whimper, twitching a couple times, harder with his thrust as his hand fisted into your hair abruptly throughout his climax. Looking up to see his face, your eyes locked with his as he came all over your tongue, raining down your throat with a couple last, sloppy thrusts.

“Oh fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuuu------“

Your eyes immediately teared up as you tried your best to swallow every drop of cum he had to give, the corner of your lips dripping like an overflowing sink.

Then there was a complete silence.

As you wiped your mouth off the thick, warmness of his cum, you felt him kneel to your side, then sit. Both of you looked completely exhausted, drained from every ounce of energy you had left.

“Well, that wasn’t half bad… for a little brat” he spoke again, and you just couldn’t believe he had gathered the energy to say this when he could have chosen silence.

Laughing quietly to yourself so you wouldn’t slap him across the face, you decided not to fuel him up and remained quiet instead. His hair had gone curlier than heaver, his glistening red face making him look like any cute boy you could easily fall for.

“I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna see a lot more of you at frat parties now?” he spoke again, and though it truly pissed you off to admit it, you just knew this wasn’t a one-time thing. For all you knew, this, was barely a prequel to a long, bumpy story of a good girl gone bad.

All because of Tom-fucking-Holland.

[sarawritesx]

Tonight's show was a life changing experience for Margaret. As a young woman who spends most of her time taking care of ill mother and being in the shadows of her older brothers, Maggie barely got to have any fun. Not to mention travel somewhere for own pleasure and excitement. As a long time fan of the Asphodel band, being absolutely in love with their music and the whole anonymous mantra that surrounded them and still got them fame, it brought her incredible joy to finally organize herself and travel to the nearby town for their show.

And what a show it was. Maggie came alone, but in that crowd you felt like a part of a huge group. Everyone was ecstatic, danced, jumped, but Maggie just stood there and sang along. The lyrics could hit just the right emotions, and the way he sang... It was rousing, Maggie could barely keep her eyes away from him. The show had to come to an end, but Maggie was pleased as she heard all of her favorite songs.

Her ears still rang, legs felt wobbly from standing, but the adrenalin and ecstatic feeling rushed through her veins as she reached the near by bar. She wasn't that big of a drinker but right now it was needed in order to calm down and collect her thoughts. After ordering herself a beer, she reached for the phone in her bag but then realized she took no pictures or videos of the concert, that's how great of the time she had.

All of the sudden a voice of a man sitting next to her brought her back to reality and she offered him a polite smile. "Amazing, mesmerizing, breathtaking, a night to remember..."she said in a dreamy, cheery voice. "Did you attend the show as well?"she then asked, Maggie could assume he did, the way he was dressed did fit the crowd attending, but she didn't want to be wrong.

plot: Zack is the frontman of an anonymous, masked band, Asphodel, who finds the fan he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of during their show at a nearby bar. muse: Zachary Dion/Zagreus; unknown/28; god; The Enigma open to: f (21+) written in beta Please do not like my starters.

As always, he was relieved for the anonymity. After they played their encore, he could just slip away and find somewhere quiet while the stage was broken down and they had a few hours to kill before they needed to move on to the next city. Tomorrow was a travel day, so they had even more of a break. He'd decided to wander his way into a bar just down the street from the venue. Fortunately, it didn't seem to be getting much attention from people who'd been to the show. Even if it did, it wasn't like anyone would recognize him. If anything, they'd have thought he'd have been in the crowd with him. He was just another nameless person.

After lighting up a cigarette and ordering himself a beer, he pulled out the small notebook that he kept with him at all times to begin penning some new lines. He thought back to one face in the crowd, one woman who'd been in the pit and had continued to draw his attention throughout the entire show. Everyone around her had been screaming and enjoying the music in their own way, and all of their expressions had been full of mindless adoration. But this one? It had been reverence. The way she looked at him reminded him that he was a god, the son of the king and queen of the Underworld themselves. She'd made him feel powerful. Worshiped.

So, when that same woman sat down next to him at the bar wearing a fresh tour t-shirt, even he, who usually preferred to keep to himself, couldn't help himself. He closed the notebook and turned to face her. Pulling the cigarette from his mouth, he gestured at her shirt with it as it dangled between his fingers. "How was the show?"

[aprilsrant]

Liquid Luck and its wonders | Harry Potter x Ravenclaw!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: Harry meets a shy girl from Ravenclaw House. After taking a liking to her, he tries to catch her attention. 

WORD COUNT: 1,693.

WARNINGS: none, I think. 

REQUEST: Hi! Um I'd like to request a Harry Potter x Ravenclaw!reader where she's pretty shy and Harry has a major crush on her so he's always trying to catch her attention in any way he can? Thank you!

A/N: English is not my first language, there could be mistakes here! If you enjoyed this, like, comment or reblog, whatever you want!

This took a little longer than I expected, but I wrote something and didn’t like it so I had to do it all over again and here it is! I love Harry so I’m really happy someone requested a fic for him because he’s so underrated! Hope you enjoy it!

MASTERLIST. / WORK IN PROGRESS.

Gif below is not mine.

The fake Galleon felt heavier than usual in her hands, the date of their last meeting —the fact unknown to any of them— still engraved in it, gleaming from different angles depending on how the sunlight would shine through the large windows. Not a single day would pass without (Y/N) looking at it from time to time, expecting to see the numbers change, waiting for the return of Dumbledore’s Army. 

Once more, reality didn’t reach her wishes. 

A sigh left her mouth while she climbed down from the windowsill and abandoned her dorm, Rowena Ravenclaw’s statue watching her back as the sixth year girl started to walk towards the Great Hall, stomach rumbling and crying out desperately for breakfast. 

She sat down next to Luna Lovegood, her closest friend, and listened to her comments on Nargles, —“mischievous they are”, she said in a dreamy voice whilst buttering her toast—. (Y/N) knew a lot about the creatures that only Luna and her father believed in after years of being by her side, only separating for lessons and to sleep because of her being a year older than the silver haired girl, although you could find (Y/N) in her friend’s dorm more times than you could encounter Hermione Granger in the Library, laying down on the bed and staring at the canopy filled with little stars that would shine whenever Luna touched them with her wand. (Y/N) had done something similar with hers, but with a glowing full moon instead. 

The stars and the moon were never far from each other and neither were them.

Zoning out from her housemates chattering around her, her eyes diverted to the Gryffindor table, quickly finding the remarkable Golden Trio talking to each other. Hermione seemed frustrated, Ron had a delighted expression on his face while the last member had been discussing with the only girl in the group. 

Her heart jumped at the thought of them arguing about whether or not Harry would teach the D.A again, just like last year. But why would Hermione be upset then when she was the one who initiated the whole thing? The realisation that they were discussing other matters saddened her. Unconsciously, her fingers reached for the golden coin inside her rob’s pocket.   

Glancing back at the plate in front of her, (Y/N) missed Harry waving his hand at her, closing his mouth about to greet her when he noticed the Ravenclaw was no longer looking at them. 

Although Harry and (Y/N) were both sixth years and shared many classes, they hadn’t seen each other as much as the first would have liked because of the never ending assignments and most of their free periods spent in the Library. 

On the day of tryouts for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, this changed. The girl and Luna had been relaxing near the Quidditch Pitch, resting on top of the grass while the first one read a book and her friend doodled faces on a notebook (Y/N) had gotten her as a birthday present alongside a new set of charcoal crayons, when a large group of people gather around the Pitch. 

Leaving the book by her side, (Y/N) began to watch just as a first year crashed into one of the goalposts. Her right hand flew quickly to cover her mouth, a loud laugh trying to escape from her throat. But the laugh disappeared and a tight knot took its place upon seeing the amount of girls trying to catch Harry’s attention, and maybe more. 

Luna giggled, her hand still moving around the paper but her bright, blue eyes were flashing with realisation and a funny tingle. 

“You like him, don’t you?,” she asked without needing much of an answer.

(Y/N) shocked her head, eyes moving between Luna and the Quidditch Pitch. To her relief, Harry had, apparently, dismissed the girls and they were now sitting on the stands. 

But nothing could escape Luna, and most certainly not something related directly to her best friend. 

“He fancies you too,” the girl commented casually, like it wasn’t what (Y/N) had yearned to hear since their third year, “you should see how much he stares at you. I was concerned at first, maybe he’d noticed you’ve become infested with Nargles and I hadn’t, but… but then I realised he liked you because I remembered seeing the look on his face.”

“From where?,” (Y/N) questioned softly, still trying to process the fact that Harry Potter liked her. It’s not like she didn’t trust Luna’s judgement —even if people believed she was out of her mind, the girl was surprisingly good for this kind of thing—, but her own insecurities clouded her mind. Did he really fancy her? And if he did, what was so special about her that had captivated Harry’s interest when so many others were throwing themselves at him? 

“My dad had the same expression whenever he looked at my mum.” A small smile grew on her face while (Y/N)’s hand travelled to grab one of Luna’s, the one resting on top of the notebook, and squeezed it lightly and reassuringly. “I can still see it whenever he mentions her.”

After the conversation she had with Luna, (Y/N) started to notice more of Harry’s efforts to talk to her while walking to class; after a particular rough lesson of Defense Against the Dark Arts with Snape; sharing hushed instructions (different to the ones in their book but incredibly helpful) every time he pretended to look for more ingredients and walked right behind her during Potions. 

Their short exchanges turned quickly into long conversations and shared afternoons, both of the teenagers trying to forget, maybe even ignore for a little amount of time, how dark and obscure was the Wizarding World becoming. 

Harry didn’t confess his feelings, —those increasing each time she smiled, or laughed, or gazed at him while rays of sunshine illuminated her skin, making her look even more endearing than usual—, until one particular afternoon.

After succeeding on his mission, —to retrieve an important memory concerning Voldemort from Professor Slughorn that he had altered—, something coming from the interior of his body, or mind, he didn’t know, screaming at him to go to the kitchens. Logically, if a potion that induces luck to the drinker tells you to walk towards a particular destination, then that’s exactly what you do.

The boy wasn’t sure about what could possibly be waiting for him in the kitchens, but after seeing her sitting in one of the large tables across the room, coincidentally the replica of the one she’s used to have breakfast and dinner, he knew the reason the potion had wanted him there. 

He took a seat next to her before greeting the house-elves, who were already bringing him trays full of pastries, and struggled to shake the dizziness out of his head —Harry couldn’t figure out if it came from the potion running off, the excitement of finally achieving the memory that would take him one step further to understand Voldemort and his plan, or the nerves that’d always attacked him whenever (Y/N) was near—.

“Hi, Harry,” she murmured softly without looking him in the eyes and grabbing a cookie from the plate in front of her, “what brings you here?”

What brought him to the kitchens and face the girl he had a crush on? Felix Felicis, of course. For what had the potion made him go there? He didn’t want to admit it, Harry didn’t want to confess the urge he had to kiss her whenever she would laugh at one of his jokes, even when they were terrible; he didn’t want to talk about how much he cared for her and how that was the exact same reason why he had taken so long to, first, accept his feelings and to even think about telling her about them. (Y/N) didn’t deserve to be thrown into a war he wasn’t sure he could win. And he didn’t deserve her. She would have to find another person to tease, to laugh with, to confide her problems and desires. 

However, the potion hadn’t left his system yet, not entirely at least and enough to make a difference in (Y/N) and Harry’s friendship.

“I-I think I have feelings for you,” the words escaping his mouth before he could stop them, “and they are kind of weird because every time you walk in, or you are close to me, like right now, I don’t know how to act around you.”

No reaction came out of her, not even a slap, which he was kind of preparing for. (Y/N) stood motionless beside him, with the half of her cookie still in her hand, rests of chocolate and crumbs around her mouth.

“I’m sorry if I ruined our friendship, but I just,” he said before releasing a shaky breath,” I needed to tell you that I fancy you and that you are absolutely amazing.” 

Swallowing and licking her lips, missing for a few inches the bit of chocolate scattered on them, (Y/N) shifted her position. Her chest was now facing Harry completely, her left leg below her body, giving the impression that she was taller than him, while the other one supported her weight. One of the girl’s hands had barely touched Harry’s jaw when she kissed the corner of his mouth.

“What took you so long?”

Harry could no longer see the chocolate and the crumbs, instead, he was capable of tasting them the second their lips met, hesitant at first but more confident the second time they did. 

Whispers coming from the house-elves, —who had stopped, for once, doing their work and were now staring at them, many with tears in their big eyes—, made (Y/N) and Harry to separate from each other, even if it was the last thing they wanted.

“Maybe we should leave,” the Ravenclaw suggested softly in his ear. 

Nodding eagerly, Harry took her hand and they both walked out of the kitchens, a grin on each of their faces.

general taglist: @gcdric @lilac-wrists 

If you want to be add to the general taglist or to the taglist for a specific character, let me know!

[enjennie]

Bottom’s Up

synopsis: the dreamies during a night of drinking somehow end up talking about their exes, revealing the different types of relationships and exes they have or had.

a/n: this has been long been in my drafts so Jisung was still a minor here, thus I didn’t give him any drinks lmao. Enjoy! btw, I’m still deciding if I should make Haechan’s backstory for this, or if the markHyuck one should do…

[10:37]

The boys have arrived, piling into Chenle’s condominium that was set up just to have their long awaited guys night. They planned this weeks prior, promising each other that after their finals they’d set aside time to drink away their thoughts and release any stress they have that built up.

By 10:50 bottles have been popped and cups have been poured, the boys sat in the balcony to feel the cool air of the city night.

“You guys really aren’t sharing?” Jisung watches as the older boys raise their glasses in celebration.

“You wait a few more months, sir,” Mark sets his glass down and pats the younger boy on the shoulder. Guy nights wouldn’t be complete without Jisung, even if he wasn’t allowed to drink yet. He never minded sitting in the living room, playing with Chenle’s console with Jaemin and then later on laughing at his older friends’ shenanigans once the alcohol hit them.

Renjun isn’t quite the drinker, but Haechan made him a bet and unfortunately, he lost. Being an art major wasn’t easy, he knew he had a few more things to finish before his semester ended but with that, Renjun drank to forget.

Besides his plates, he had nothing else to worry about. He’d been getting emails from companies waiting for him to graduate, a family happy to support him, but surprisingly, the boy lacked in the love department.

His previous relationships, only being flings and one night stands, none of them really ever stayed after the cuddles. Except… a particular someone.

On the opposite side of him sat Jeno, who was watching his friends in amusement. Now, Jeno has a high alcohol tolerance. Although he becomes chatty, and starts to excessively clean his surroundings, he takes care of his friends well. Usually he’s the one who tucks them into bed or prevents anything like drunk driving and some other stupid shit to happen.

Jeno the architectural major was the responsible friend in a night out. The single friend who starts playing the guitar to set the mood when 2am rolls in. And, the single friend with the broken heart, which hasn’t quite mended yet even after three years.

Haechan on the other hand, is a messy drunk but handles his alcohol well until the 2nd bottle. The boy has a lot going on in his mind, and was the first to initiate the plan to drink.

His phone rings, but Haechan dismisses it, tapping the red decline button and watching as the screen faded into black. Mark follows his eyes and hesitantly brings it up.

“Aren’t you going to talk to her?”

Haechan only shakes his head before taking another swig. Everyone knows well enough about Haechan and his girlfriend’s on and off relationship. They break up, make up, fight and the cycle repeats.

Mark’s adam’s apple bobs as he asks another question. “Why don’t you just break up? Y’know… for good?”

The boys around them seem to have noticed the tension that built up and had their eyes fixed on the pair.

“I don’t know, man,” Haechan is too drunk to think about Mark’s question. Too drunk to realize how Mark completely sold himself off to be in love with him with that one question. It wasn’t a big secret, especially since Mark has done a poor job in hiding it, but apparently not bad enough for Haechan to see. Everyone knew, except for the clueless boy.

Jaemin was too busy babysitting Chenle, who was having his first drink tonight, to even have shots of his own. He didn’t like drinking, anyway, and used Chenle as an excuse to keep sober.

Jaemin the medical student naturally tells his friends to lay off the alcohol, as it can damage their liver. He can only do so much though, as the others tend to be hard-headed and stubborn.

“I can handle myself!” Chenle protests, reaching for his glass which Jaemin took away. “You’re supposed to drink, eat a lot then drink again,” Jaemin explains. “You’ve only taken drinks so far, you’ll be knocked out in an hour if you keep this up,” He tells Chenle.

Of course, Jaemin knew his way around drinking. He just didn’t enjoy it, doesn’t like the bitter taste of it. Didn’t like how it made him think of his past either. Jaemin’s cup remains half full, and he uses this tactic to not get refills.

It keeps him away from his phone, sober enough to know better than to drunk text her. Even if her presence was all he yearned for at a night like this.

Jaemin x Reader – By My Side

[COMING SOON]

[12:03]

As the night gets deeper, so do the conversations between the close friends. Just like Jaemin predicted, Chenle had his head down on the table already, passed out.

“Jeno, you know what to do,” Jaemin nodded his head, signaling the boy beside him. Jeno gave him his smile, which now looked more drowsy and silly because of his tipsy state.

Jeno lifts Chenle easily, with Jaemin assisting him, leaving the three boys on the table.

“I want ____. Where is she?” Chenle had his eyes closed, mumbling to his friends. Jaemin and Jeno exchanged looks and laughed at the younger.

Poor boy, had a ton of expectations to meet he couldn’t even date around.

Chenle’s main priority had to be his family, and their business. He couldn’t afford any distractions, but to him, she was more than that. She was his driving force, and it hurt the boy to be keeping her a secret. Only the boys knew about his secret relationship, if word got out that Zhong Chenle the son of the most well-respected corporate business owner was dating, it would be the entirety of Shanghai talking about it.

As much as he wanted nothing more than to show the world and tell everyone who he’s in love with, he knew she wasn’t ready to face it all and step into that kind of light yet.

Chenle x Reader – In The Limelight

While the two boys took Chenle into his room, it left the three boys and Haechan’s buzzing phone out in the cold night air that the terrace provided.

“What happened this time?” Renjun asks, in line with the phone that’s close to annoying the hell out of him if it doesn’t stop vibrating the entire table. Haechan had his head down, and he lets out a laugh. Humorless, just cold.

“I don’t get her. She wants me, then the next second she doesn’t,”

When the boy lifts his head, it’s made obvious of all the pain he’s been hiding. His eyes, teary and sullen. Renjun couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s face, clapping his hands and throwing his head back in laughter. “Aw, c’mon man! It’s only 12am,”

This, however, doesn’t humor Mark the same way. Seeing Haechan in pain was like a bullet through his heart. He gave the boy a pat on the back and watches as his head fall once again. Mark swears he saw a tear fall too.

“I’m not just an object you can set aside, then use when needed,” Haechan continues to wail. Although he was already drunk, Mark felt that Haechan’s words were the most sober when he wasn’t.

As for Mark, the literature major didn’t care much about alcohol. However, it did get his creative juices flowing. Most of Mark’s best written pieces were done when he couldn’t even remember writing them.

During blurry nights intoxicated in alcohol, Mark’s thoughts flow easily through him and onto the sheets of paper that lie around his room. Sometimes, he’ll drink on a school night to get an essay finished for it’s due date the next day.

But seeing as he had no pending things to write, Mark drank for the sake of trying to numb himself somehow. Although it didn’t work well when the person he’s trying to get his mind off of is sat right beside him, thinking of someone else.

Mark x Haechan – Always, I’ll Care

[COMING SOON]

[1:13 am]

When Jaemin and Jeno came back, Jeno was already carrying a guitar. He strums it softly to a random tune he came up with on the spot. Haechan, of course, was singing along. Throwing in words like ‘baby’ and murmuring a few words about love. By now, Renjun’s cheeks were pink and a few hiccups had already escaped him.

“Do you remember that girl Jeno dated second semester of senior year?” he says, out of the blue.

The boys need not ask who, as they all knew who Renjun was referring to. The group of boys burst into fits of laughter and the guitar takes an abrupt stop as its player shoots his friends a nasty look for bringing up his past unprovoked.

“You were smitten, bro,” Mark smacks Jeno’s shoulder as he giggles.

Jeno daggers his eyes to Renjun, who has his head thrown back, laughing.

“How about you, huh? What was her name? _____-“ Jeno begins his avengement by mentioning the name he knew would get back at Renjun. He gets cut off shortly.

“I’ll stop you right there, sir,” Renjun places a hand over Jeno’s mouth before he could speak the name.

“C’mon, how many years has that been though?” Jeno asks after getting the boy’s hand off of his mouth.

“Two, and what about it?” Renjun defensively counters, surprising the other boys.

“He knows! Wow, do you keep count?” Jaemin chuckles, amusement all over his face.

“Shut up, ____ ,” Renjun points a finger at the male, mentioning the name of Jaemin’s past lover. Jaemin’s jaw drops and he crosses his arms,

“That was low,” The corner of his lips tugged into a smile nonetheless.

“C’mon, guys. It’s not like we’re releasing bad omens talking about our exes,” Haechan tugs on Renjun to sit him back down.

“Easy for you to say, you’ve only had one ex and she’s your girlfriend,” Renjun huffs. No one dared to speak the name of Renjun’s ex around him aside from people who have balls like Jeno, Jaemin, Haechan and Mark.

It wasn’t because he was bitter about her. But try as he might, there was a feeling within him that says she’s the one. Or she was. And Renjun was stuck, thinking about all the what if’s. Even after 2 years.

Renjun x Reader – To Be So Lonely [COMING SOON]

“I see things are getting heated over here,” Jisung stood by the door to the balcony now, with a sly smirk on his face.

“Ah right, let’s talk about mister lover boy over here,” Jeno motioned to the younger boy, who surprisingly is the only one to have a love life at the moment.

Jisung was courting the student body president. He could not, however, get her to answer him, but the boy never gives up.

“You must have some balls to hit on your senior,” Jaemin comments. The student body president was in fact two years older than Jisung, but the boy was determined.

Jisung x Reader – Like A Fool

[COMING SOON]

“At least one of us is progressing in terms of love,” Renjun sighed.

“Jeno’s doing well though, isn’t he? Lots of girls always after him,” Jisung gestures to the male beside him who’d started playing the guitar once again.

“I don’t think that counts as doing well,” Jeno mutters, absentmindedly.

“Oh yeah? And how does having half the school pine over you not count as doing well?” Jaemin lightly nudges his friend.

“Because the one I love, is in someone else’s arms right now,”

And cue the exaggerated crying and wailing of his friends, who’d given him sympathetic pats on the back.

Jeno x Reader – We Find Love

[COMING SOON]

“Oh, man,” grumbled Haechan, clearly already very intoxicated. He placed his head between his hands to try and stop his world from spinning. “I got to go to her, I have to say sorry,”

The boys all averted their eyes to the boy who looks to be having his spiritual awakening.

Mark’s heart dropped upon hearing Haechan’s words. He looked down at his hands and sighed. It wouldn’t be the first time Haechan had a sudden realization and wanted to be in his girlfriend’s arms right then and there.

It usually happened when he was smashed drunk, after the 7th or 8th cup. Asking his mates to take him home and running into the arms of his girl.

Mark didn’t know why he wasn’t used to it at this point. It isn’t and never will be him.

“No way,” Jaemin tutted. “You gathered us all here to drink and bothered us for weeks then you’ll flake midway? I don’t think so,” The other boys agreed.

Renjun stretched his arms and fell back onto the chair he sat on. “What’s with the sudden change of atmosphere anyway? It’s like we did release bad omens when we spoke about our exes,”

“You just had to bring ____ up!” Jeno threw a fry at his friend, who was the first to mention his ex and start the discussion. Renjun caught the fry in his mouth, surprising the boys and himself.

“Let’s just drink up,” Renjun raises his glass in the air, although it’s half empty.

“Nice try, here have a refill. We’re all taking equal shots,” Mark had risen and was now reaching for the bottle of beer to pour his friend’s glass.

“To… I don’t know- fuck! To getting fucked up!” Haechan yelled, raising his glass in the air.

The rest of the boys do the same, clinking glasses together and downing it mercilessly to their livers.

Relationships come and go, but the dreamies are always here to stay.

[lupinsx]

Hopeless Romantics

masterlist

Request: Hello love! I loved petty rivals! Would you consider writing a second part?

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: After a near-death Quidditch incident, Draco becomes the target of some juvenile teasing, leaving the formerly unconscious Y/N terribly confused. (Sequel to Petty Rivals)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Brief usage of swear words.

part one

a/n — I'm so happy y'all enjoyed Petty Rivals enough to request a part two. I hope this gives the storyline enough justice. Make sure to read part one first! (link provided above)

tags: @bi-andready-tocry

——————————

Numb. That was all you felt as your eyes slowly crept open, adjusting to the harsh light.

You found yourself sitting on the uncomfortable hospital wing bed. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you attempted to bring to mind the string of events leading to your arrival here. The last thing you remembered was being in the middle of a Quidditch game, and the surge of determination as you reached for the Quaffle.

Ah, yes, I got hit by the Bludger, you recalled with a slight grimace.

With the intent to stretch out your sore limbs, you tried to sit up properly, only to be restricted from further movement. You felt something heavy on your abdomen, holding you down. Glancing towards your lower body, you nearly yelped at the sight.

There, laying on your stomach soundlessly, was a head of platinum blond hair. The very head of your notorious rival, Draco Malfoy.

You held back from making a commotion, knowing Madam Pomfrey or any of the others might rush to the scene. Instead, you kept quiet, wondering why in the hell would he be here. Draco was still clad in his emerald green uniform, meaning he stayed for the duration of time you were unconscious. Seeing how tired he was, asleep on the chair with his head on your stomach, you could assume it hasn't been a mere hour. You almost felt a little sorry.

With a tentative motion, you tapped his shoulder. "Uh, Draco?"

His body stirred gently and repositioned before falling back into a deep slumber, this time in a more uncomfortable position. His head was now facing you, body inched closer, and arms wrapped around your waist as his face laid comfortably over your abdomen. Your cheeks took on a cherry shade at the increased contact. Although you'd hate to admit it, seeing him peaceful without any discontent made your heart flutter ever so slightly.

No, you interrupted your thoughts, don't think that way about him. He's your enemy. With those words in mind, you proceeded to tap his shoulder again, this time a little more aggressively.

"Five more minutes," Draco croaked, his raspy morning voice sending shivers down your spine. Ignoring the sensation, you nudged his body impatiently. It was then when he finally opened his eyes.

"I said five more—" Upon sight of your unamused glare looking down on him, he immediately shot up, eyes wide as he got up from his chair.

Glancing at him suspiciously, you cocked an eyebrow at his behaviour. "What were you doing here?" you asked, desperate to know the answer before your delusional mind took over.

Draco diverted his gaze to the floor, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably as he scrambles to find a reasonable excuse. "Flint told me to stay here. As, uh... punishment! Yeah, a punishment."

Since when was he ever nervous around me? "Did he tell you to stay for the entire time?"

"Uh, yes—I mean, no, I just fell asleep on accident."

"Alright then," you mumbled awkwardly, playing with your fingers. You didn't know what else to say at the moment, and neither did he, judging by the way he still wouldn't make proper eye contact.

Clearing his throat, he hesitantly turned towards you. "Madam Pomfrey said you're free to go once you wake up. So, uh, I guess I'll head out now..."

And with that, he strode towards the door, leaving before you could even think to respond. While you got off the hospital bed and stretched your body, there was a nagging feeling you couldn't ignore, present ever since you caught sight of his heavy-eyed countenance on top of you.

Why is my heart beating this fast?

~~~

The next day, you were finally able to return to your classes. You felt bad when Madam Pomfrey told you it has been nearly two whole days before you woke up. Was Draco there for that long? You hoped this wouldn't end up being a ploy for him to acquire blackmail material. Strangely enough, you completely didn't doubt it.

Walking into the Grand Hall, you were met with the sight of an angry Draco speaking aggressively to the Slytherin table, only to receive puckish grins in response from them. Although the words were incoherent, you managed to catch one ominous line at the end.

"Don't speak of it to her."

It was at that moment when all eyes suddenly diverted to your frame. Draco sat back down upon noticing your presence, eating silently as he kept to himself.

"Hey Y/N!" Pansy shouted, patting the seat next to her for you to come to sit. "How's your head feeling?"

With a tired plop, you settled down and shoved a spoonful of eggs into your mouth. "Wonderful. Madam Pomfrey is a miracle worker."

As you spoke, you failed to notice the various teasing glances shot at the boy sitting across from you. But still, he merely kept his glance downwards, refusing to utter a word.

"How did it feel when you fell down?" Blaise asked, biting back his tongue in case a laugh threatens to emit. You paused your chewing, trying to recall the sensation.

"I don't remember. Right as I got hit I was knocked out, so the fall was mostly unconscious."

After sending conspicuous looks to each other, Pansy continued, "Do you recall, perhaps, hitting the ground at the end of the drop?"

"I don't think so?"

Before the pair can press further, a fist to the table interrupted them. With a murderous glare, Draco lifted his head and stared at the two Slytherins dead in the eye.

"Guys," he growled, earning nervous gulps from Blaise and Pansy, "cut it out. She fell, simple as that."

"Okay Drakey," Blaise muttered under his breath before him and Pansy burst into a fit of giggles. Rolling his eyes, Draco stormed off, presumably to head to class early. Although, the effort went in vain as the bell chimes shortly after his departure.

"You seriously don't remember anything after getting knocked out?" Pansy asked in a final attempt as you two stood up. You simply offered a shrug in response, wondering why they asked those questions when they saw everything. As you headed towards your class, a stubborn question remained in your head. Why did Draco storm off so angrily?

~~~

"Settle down, class, today we'll be learning about some more advanced potions."

There was a chorus of groans following Professor Snape's announcement—yours being particularly loud. You were always filled with worry whenever a potion of higher difficulty was to be attempted. To you, it was just another opportunity to make a fool out of yourself in front of your peers.

"Now, can anyone tell me what this potion is?" asked Snape, lifting the lid to reveal an intoxicating scent. Rather than eager hands shooting up, everyone slowly inched closer, desperate to get another whiff.

While you appeared to be in pure bliss, Draco took a couple of curious sniffs before leaning back in his seat with an expression of revulsion.

"Doesn't it smell wonderful?" Blaise sighed, addressing the moody boy by his left. Draco gave a slight scoff in response.

"Gross, no. It smells like whatever Y/N douses herself in every morning."

With a suspicious glance, Blaise sat back down. Soon, Professor Snape put the lid back on, and the rest of the students snapped out of their dreamy trance. It was then when Hermione raised her hand.

"Sir, it's Amortentia," she started, taking a small pause before continuing. "The most powerful love potion to exist. It causes the drinker to feel a powerful infatuation, and it smells different to each person, according to what attracts them."

Upon seeing the description confirmed with a nod from Snape, Draco's cheeks took on a prominent red shade. His friend had his mouth wide open, staring at the blond boy with a puckish sort of surprise.

"We do not speak of this," Draco muttered through gritted teeth. Blaise merely nodded in response, a teasing grin still visible on his face.

Before Snape could go on, a noisy Gryffindor spoke up from the corner, inciting a string of laughter with his comment.

"Malfoy, was that what possessed you to play Prince Charming out there? Or was it your own sheer will?"

It seemed it was only you left confused by the jibe. While you pondered over why Draco of all people was supposedly playing Prince Charming, the said boy glared at every giggling student. It was only until Professor Snape cleared his throat when the class went silent again.

"Today, we will be recreating this potion in groups of two. I'll allow you all to sort this amongst yourselves."

Thank god, you thought to yourself. The result was horrid last time you were forced into a pair with Draco. Looking towards your usual partner, Pansy, you frowned at the sight.

Pansy immediately went to Blaise, ignoring your curious gaze. Everybody had already gone with their usual picks in the class, leaving only Blaise's former partner alone with an angry expression.

Of fucking course, they left me with him.

Burrowing your head into your palms, you waited until a presence was felt next to you. Cautiously looking up, you were surprised with the sight of Draco's face merely inches away. He paused for a moment, staring deep into your irises before you broke the eye contact with an awkward cough to your left.

"So, uh, I guess we should start," Draco mumbled, pulling out his textbook and flipping to the instructions page. As you leaned in slightly to read the fine print, Draco found himself distracted by the smell of your hair.

It was the very same scent found earlier in the steam of Amortentia.

"Should I begin cutting the peppermint? Or do you think you're a better fit for the task?" you interrupted his thoughts with a faint snarl. His eyebrows furrowed at the comment before he remembered the events of the previous Potions class.

"Hey, I really am sorry—"

"Don't worry, you already apologized. I'm just being petty," you chuckled, patting his shoulder jokingly. However, Draco kept his gaze on you, staring with a solemn expression.

"It wasn't a proper apology if I acted like a git afterward. What I said was uncalled for, and frankly, I was just being jealous."

"You? Jealous? Very funny, Draco, but you don't have to lie to make me feel better," you sighed with a bitter smile, but he was quick to shake his head.

"I mean it!" he piped up, rubbing his neck with that same awkward look from the hospital wing. "You are absolutely brilliant at everything else. I guess it made me prideful to be more adept in this one class."

You stared at him with an unreadable expression. He paused, assuming you were weirded out by his words and thus went back to focusing on the textbook. Meanwhile, you felt a growing admiration for the boy.

"How about you cut the peppermint?" Draco said, offering a gentle smile.

"You're not afraid I'll mess it up?"

"You won't. I'll teach you how to do it."

The whole rivalry was momentarily forgotten as Draco guides your hands in cutting peppermint, spending the rest of the time in class with airy giggles and crimson cheeks.

~~~

Later that day, you decided to get some fresh air, opting to practice Quidditch for a while to clear your head. The entire day has been very puzzling to you. With Pansy and Blaise's strange questioning, Draco's odd behaviour, and the teasing comments suddenly directed towards him. You felt out of the loop, confused with everything despite only being gone for three days.

Something had to have happened while you were gone, and you were determined to find out. After blowing off some steam with your trusty broomstick, of course.

However, you were quick to realize you weren't the sole Slytherin there when a voice speaks up from behind you.

"Oh, Y/N? You've awoken?" said Marcus Flint, walking down the stands to approach your figure by the railing.

"Yeah, just yesterday. I came to catch up on the practice."

"Cool. How are you feeling?" he asked, briefly scanning your body only to find no visible bruises. You sent him a thumbs up in response, earning a sigh of relief from the Slytherin team captain.

"Ah, this could have been a lot worst. Thank god we still have one of our best Chasers."

You paused, eyes squinting as you let out a small chuckle. "What do you mean it could have been worst?"

"It was bad enough you got knocked out by a Bludger, but at least you never hit the ground. That would have been deadly," Flint explained with a playful tone. You simply stood in front of him with more confusion.

"How did I not hit the ground?"

"Wait, you don't remember?" he asked, emitting a loud chortle. "Oh god, it was the funniest thing ever! Draco flew past us so quickly just to catch you."

You found yourself taking on a red shade as you hear his words. Ignoring the burning sensation, you pressed further. "Draco caught me?"

"Yeah. Held you bridal-style and everything. Quite a charming fellow, isn't he?"

Failing to notice your wide-eyed expression, Flint continued with an amused tone. "Even after Madam Pomfrey arrived, he still wouldn't let go. Carried you to the hospital wing himself even though I told him to get back into the game. Poor boy even slept there."

At that point, your frame was motionless as you stared off into the distance. You had trouble grasping his words, believing what he says was really the truth, but his explanation seems to justify the teasing and odd looks from the morning.

As if a lightbulb went off in his head, Marcus Flint piped up once more with a sly grin. "I think Malfoy has a not-so-little crush on you."

"W-what?" you snapped out of your trance with a defensive look. "Draco doesn't like me!"

"Yeah, definitely, he only refused to leave your unconscious side because he sees you as a friend. His uncontrollable need to hold you was certainly platonic."

With a scowl on your face, you grabbed your broomstick while slinging your bag over your shoulder. "I need to talk to him," you mumbled under your breath, storming off with determined strides.

You wanted answers. You needed answers. Because why in the hell would Draco care that much? He's never expressed the slightest bit of concern for you, so what's with the sudden change in behaviour?

He even had the nerve to lie and say Flint made him stay with you at the hospital wing.

You entered the castle with a glare capable to kill. Marching through the corridors, you made your way to the dungeons in record time.

"Draco Malfoy!" you shouted upon entering the portrait hole. A small crowd of onlookers formed at the sight of your furious arrival, though most lingering students seemed to file out instantaneously.

Scanning the common room with narrowed eyes, your eyes landed on the couches where a group of fifth years laid. Amongst them was Draco, sitting nonchalantly as if your call was left unheard.

Striding over there, you stood in front of the blond boy, arms lazily crossed. With an unreadable expression, Draco mumbled teasingly, "Yes?"

"Come with me, now."

"I don't know, I got quite comfortable here," he remarked with his usual smirk painting his face. You rolled your eyes, deciding on resorting to physical means rather than verbal negotiation.

Without further consideration, you grabbed Draco's arm and yanked him up. His eyes widened at the action, and before he could protest against the forcefulness, you dragged him out of the portrait hole and into the hallway.

"Where are you taking me?" he groaned as you pull him by the wrist towards the nearest exit. Once located, you yanked harder as you turned your direction. It was only when you two finally touched the grass that his wrist was released from your grip.

"What the hell Y/N?"

Instead of replying to his angry self, you stared at him, eyes holding a mixture of confusion and anger. "Why did you lie to me?"

"Lie?" Draco asked, his expression morphing into one of nervousness. "W-what do you mean lie?"

"You told me Flint made you stay at the hospital wing. As a punishment, remember?"

It was then when the colour drained from Draco's face. His lips parted slightly, shock evident in his widened eyes. With a tentative pause, he stammered, "He told you everything... didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did. Were you planning to stop being a coward and tell me, or keep quiet about it forever?"

It seemed as though your comment got to Draco since his anxious demeanour turned angry in nearly an instant. Stepping closer in an intimidating manner, he snapped, "Well what did you expect me to do?"

His fuming expression told you it wasn't a question needing an answer. Instead, you stayed still in anticipation of his next words.

"What the hell did you expect me to do? Watch as you fall to your death? Get back into the game after my heart gets physically ripped from my chest?"

There was a pause in his speech, where he scanned your face for traces of emotions within them. Then, he took your silence as permission to continue.

"I almost thought I lost you! I thought you were going to fucking die out there. So yeah, I apologize for not telling you how afraid I was. For not explaining how goddamn desperate I was to see you awake and healthy again that I'd stay in the hospital wing for days with no hesitation."

Draco's voice was rising with every syllable, to the point where he shouted this last statement. "Don't you get it? I'd do anything for you.

"Heck, I'm in love with you!"

It was then when his angry countenance wavered, and Draco repeated in a softer tone. "I'm so hopelessly in love with you, Y/N. I always have been."

Your stillness remained throughout his rant, though your face altered with shock and confusion upon his confession. He's in love with you. The notorious Draco Malfoy has admitted to being in love with you. You didn't know how to respond, but one thing kept repeating in your head; you most certainly felt the same way.

"Now, I don't expect my feelings to be reciprocated—" Draco was promptly cut off by you crashing into his arms, holding his frame tightly in a hug.

"But they are. Draco, I love you too," you replied, voice muffled by his chest. Although his face wasn't visible, you could practically feel the warmth of his smile radiating as he hesitantly wraps his arms around you.

However, before much time could be spent enjoying each other's embrace, a shout from the distance pulled you two out of your dreamlike trance.

"Ask her out already!"

Heads whipping to the side, the majority of the Slytherin fifth year population was made visible in their position by the entryway. As you two glared at the pesky onlookers, Blaise and Pansy held a sheepish grin in front of the crowd.

Rolling his eyes, Draco turned his attention back to you shortly after sending a less-than-friendly hand gesture towards them. "You know, I think I do have something to ask you."

"And what might that be?"

"Would you, Y/N L/N, do me the honour of accompanying me to Hogsmede next Saturday?"

"Of course, Draco Malfoy," you drawled through widened lips. The smile painting your face soon became replicated onto his as he became giddy at your reply, though quickly afterward, he went back to his usual stoicism. It was a poor attempt overall to hide his excitement.

Ignoring the loud cheers coming from not too far away, Draco kept his eyes locked on yours, the silence between you two broken when he mumbled, "I'll meet you by the portrait hall at 10. See you later?"

"Yeah, I'll see you later." Draco then took his exit, but not before landing a small peck on your forehead and turning away before his cheeks went visibly red.

As a small grin took over your expression, you stared at the retreating figure of Draco Malfoy. You couldn't help but think about how he used to be a mere petty rival. Now, he's the one person running through your mind at every waking moment, the one who turns you into a hopeless romantic.

And you wouldn't want it any other way.

——————————

a/n — Ah, this was definitely a fun one-shot to make. I love writing about a flustered/angry Draco! Please like, comment, and reblog to show support. Feel free to submit requests in my inbox or let me know how I did with this one. 💘

[storiesforallfandoms]

my oh my! ~ jeff wittek

word count: 1672

request?: no

description: in which the good girl meets the older ex-con and sparks fly between them

pairing: jeff wittek x female!reader

warnings: swearing, panic attack

based on this song

masterlist

You weren’t usually a club type of person, but your friends managed to convince you to come out on this night, and by the end of the night you were very happy they had.

The club scene always made you feel awkward; a large crowd of drunk people dancing way too close together, standing way too close together at the bar, and guys who were too drunk to really give a shit trying to force themselves onto girls who were too drunk to know what they were doing. You didn’t like any of it, so that’s why you were basically stood in the corner sipping your drink as you watched your friends dance together.

They were already enough drinks deep to be tipsy while you were still on your first. You weren’t a drinker, and honestly the thought of getting drunk in this crowded place really scared you. But they were having a good time, and you were glad that they were.

One of your friends spotted you standing alone and pushed out of the crowd of people towards you. “Come on! Come dance with us!”

You shake your head. “No thank you! I’m not good with crowds of people, especially not drunk people!”

“It’ll be fun! If you don’t like it, you can come back over here, I promise!”

You sighed and agreed to it. Your friend smiled brightly and took hold of your hand. She led you into the crowd of people to your group of friends, who cheered excitedly when you joined them. You couldn’t help but laugh a little at the reaction.

The group of you danced together and for a minute, you were actually getting into everything. But just as soon as that moment came, it was gone again when the people around you started to crowd you and you suddenly realized how close everyone was and how tight of a space you felt like you were in. You felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore and everything was spinning.

You pushed out of the crowd without telling your friends where you were going, although they didn’t seem to notice your departure. You stumbled towards the bathroom and tried to turn the knob, only to find it locked. You banged on the door as hard as you could, only to be met with a voice calling, “It’s taken!”

You stood with your back against the door. Everything was spinning so fast you were starting to feel like you were about to pass out, and you could barley breathe. You could feel your hands shaking before you looked down at them, your heart was beating so fast you felt like it was about to burst from your chest. You knew you needed to get out of there to somewhere more silent, but you were so flustered you didn’t even feel like you could move.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You looked up to see a tall guy wearing a leather jacket standing in front of you with a concerned look on his face. You shook your head in response.

“Here, come with me, I’ll get you some fresh air.”

You knew in the back of your mind that this was a bad idea. This was how girls got abducted or sexually assaulted, but you knew you needed to get outside. Once your head was clear you’d be able to fight back if he tried to do anything anyways.

You took his outstretched hand and he led you through the crowded club, one hand extended in front of him to push anyone out of his way. The minute you were outside the club, you took a deep breath and it felt like the best thing in the world.

You leaned back against the wall of the club, regaining your breath. You could finally see straight and you could feel your shakes starting to subside. Your face felt cold and you realized you had been crying and now the tears were drying onto your face.

“Thank you so much,” you told the guy. “I really appreciated it.”

“It’s no problem. You looked like you needed some help,” he said. “My name’s Jeff by the way.”

“I’m (Y/N).”

“Are you here with anyone, (Y/N)?” When you looked up at him with a confused look, he quickly corrected himself, “I mean like friend wise, but also like a guy or-or something. I’m not trying to hit on you, just wondering if there’s anyone in there who’s gonna think I was kidnapping you.”

You giggled as his awkwardness. “I was here with a group of friends, but I don’t think they even noticed I left. They were too busy dancing to really noticed what was happening.”

“Would they notice if you were gone for a while?”

Your eyes widened, suddenly starting to panic again.

“No, not like that. I’m sorry, that sounds so creepy. I was just gonna ask if you to go for a walk to try and calm down.”

“God, I’d love that,” you sighed. Jeff chuckled and offered you his arm. You looped your arm through his and the two of you started walking.

The walk was quiet, but you weren’t about to complain. You were enjoying the calming silence as opposed to the thumping music from the club.

Your walk brought you to the mostly empty beach. You decided to walk the beach a ways before sitting down on the sand. Jeff sat next to you.

“So, what’s your story Jeff?” you asked him. “Are you a born and raised Los Angelite?”

He chuckled. “Oh no, I’m originally from Staten Island. I’m a barber and an influencer here now.”

“A barber?” you question. “An influencer makes sense, most people in LA are trying to be influencers, but a barber? Like on the side or your videos are you cutting hair?”

“A bit of both. I do hair cuts outside of YouTube, but I also have a series called Jeff’s Barbershop, and basically I cut either my friends hair or the hair of other influencers and I’ll make jokes and little sketches and stuff.”

“Sounds interesting. I’ll have to check the series out.”

“Maybe I could cut your hair sometime.”

That got the conversation rolling. You talked for a long time about each other. You told him how you had grown up in LA but had no desire to follow the “Los Angeles lifestyle”. You told him your dream was to live in New York, or to just visit for Christmas at least.

“Maybe I can take you this Christmas,” he said when you told him that. You felt yourself blush and had to look away so he wouldn’t see.

When you asked about Jeff’s past, he seemed a little hesitant to answer. You weren’t going to make him tell you anything if he was uncomfortable, but now you were intrigued on why he was being hesitant.

“There’s one thing you need to know about me,” he said after some time. “I...have been to prison about four times.”

“Whoa!” you said. “Really? For how long?”

“The longest was four months. And before you ask, it was for drug related charges.” Jeff laughed at the expression on your face. “I dealt drugs when I was young. I thought I was big shit until I got arrested. I turned myself around after that. It was like nearly 10 years ago, I’m a changed man.”

“10 years? How old are you?”

“I just turned 30.”

You gasped. “Oh my God, you’re so old!”

“Oh no, how old are you? Don’t tell me you’re some teenager who used a fake ID to get into the bar.”

“No! you laugh. “No, I’m 23.”

“Practically a baby!”

You both laugh together. You found yourself leaning into Jeff, resting your head on his shoulder. You felt his head resting against yours.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Like I don’t want to go back to that club.”

Jeff chuckled. “We can stay here if you want.”

You nodded. “I’d like that. I guess I should let the girls know I’m okay before we sit here for who knows how long.”

You both sat there in silence, watching the water as it crashed to the shore. It was so peaceful. You’d take this over the club setting any night, especially if you could experience it with Jeff.

Eventually you had to get up to go home. Jeff linked your arms together again as you walked. He walked you right up to your apartment door, claiming he wanted to make sure you were safe.

“I really appreciate everything you did for me tonight,” you tell him. “I’m sorry if I dragged you away from your friends or anything.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he said, waving away your apology. “I wasn’t drinking so I was basically just watching them act like drunk idiots. I liked spending the night with you better.”

You smiled and looked down at your feet.

“I meant what I said about taking you to New York,” he added. “It’s beautiful around Christmas time. You’ll love it.”

“You’ll have to take me out before I go out of state with you,” you joked.

“Okay,” Jeff said with a shrug. “Can I have your number?”

You were shocked. You didn’t think he was going to respond that way. He smiled a you stuttered out your number and he punched it into his phone.

“Okay, I’ll text you.” He winked at you before turning to leave, stopping once to wave at you before you couldn’t see him anymore.

You fumbled with your keys until you finally got your door open. You leaned back against it and let out a dreamy sigh. “Wow.”

You phone buzzed in your back pocket. You pulled it out, thinking it was one of your friends checking in on you. You were met with a message from an unknown number that read, “Is it too soon to text you? - Jeff.”

You smiled to yourself. For once, you were happy you went out with your friends.

Okay it’s not just like the song or anything but I liked the imagine a lot so I hope you guys did too!

[acciomalfoy]

PRANK WARS (GEORGE WEASLEY X READER)

Warnings: none

“You have been chosen. Within this box contains hundreds, if not a thousand Weasley Wizard’s Wheezes products. This year, we have elected one wizard from the houses of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin to assist us in popping the vein on Snape’s head. None of you know the others identities. Your job is pranking every house mate you have, and avoiding suspicion. If you are caught, you will become our number one target. Winner takes all, and the prize is worth more than it’s weight in gold. Good luck.” I breathed, reading the letter in the parcel. Luckily the package had had a note on the side warning the receiver to open in their room. I hadn’t been expecting anything, and I hadn’t seen if any owls had flown in with a matching parcel. I opened the package, and I grinned. It was bright, bursting with colours and tricks. My brain was already planning just how I was going to trick the rest of Slytherin house.

I walked silently, pondering about whether or not my plan would work. I hoped it did. I didn’t want to disappoint Fred or George, however annoying they were in classes. I wonder how they had chosen me, and then I wondered who else they had chosen. They didn’t choose anyone from Gryffindor I noticed, which meant they had big plans for their house. I hoped mine didn’t pale in comparison. The Great Hall was already open, as it opens before five on Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday’s. Unsurprisingly, the room was empty of people.

I walked over to the Slytherin table, and fished my bag of tricks out of my pocket. I dropped a couple of Weasely’s Snaps into each goblet. Once the goblets were shaken, or even moved in some cases they would pop, causing the drink to explode in the drinkers face. In order to not arise suspicion, I put the Snaps in every goblet, so even I would fall victim. They were also charmed, so when I said the word “fumious” they would explode. Then I snuck back to the common room, and more importantly, my bed.

My roommate, Astoria, woke me up by shrieking into my ear, and I almost bit her nose off.

“Shove off, Tori.” I groaned, getting out of bed despite my protesting. She laughed and began getting changed. I turned my bisexual ass around and got changed facing the other direction. My wand was on my bedside table, and I accio’d it to me as we walked out the door. The common room was loud as usual, and it resembled my anticipation for breakfast.

“I’m starving. What did we have for dinner last night again?” Astoria walked like she was on a runway, and I laughed.

“What do you think you’re doing? Walking like you’re actually cool makes you look like you’ve got a stick up your ass.” She winked at me.

“Maybe I do.” I mimed vomiting.

“You’re gross! Go kiss Flint!” I laughed again at her reaction.

“Ew! I do not intend to touch that bastard, let alone- let alone- no, I can’t even say it.” We were still laughing as we entered the great hall. Everyone was chattering, and it seemed my Snaps hadn’t gone off yet. Just wait for it. We sat down, and piled our plates. I lifted my goblet, filled with water of course, and made sure as many people were holding their goblets as possible.

“Fumious.” The beautiful word was spoken by yours truly, and the Snaps flew into everyone’s faces. Pandemonium struck, and screams erupted from the Slytherin table. The water in my face was actually quite refreshing, but I feigned a look of shock. If only these bitches knew. I saw McGonagall stand up in surprise, followed by Snape. I snuck a look at George, and he was grinning at me. I grinned back proudly, and snickered at the rest of my house.

Later that day we had potions. Snape was assigning us our partners for the term, and it was shaping up to be a Slytherin-Gryffindor mix.

“Y/n L/n and Fred Weasley.” I looked up when someone sat beside me.

“George? Why are you here?” George winked at me, and I raised an eyebrow.

“Nice prank this morning. It was pretty cool. How did you get them all to go off at the same time?” He asked curiously. I assembled the potions ingredients and smiled mysteriously.

“Little trick I learnt. You didn’t actually think you two were the only ones who prank people at Hogwarts, did you?” One look at George’s face told me did. I laughed.

“Hey! How did you do it? It could drastically improve our performances!” He pleaded. I shook my head smugly.

“Sorry, Georgie. This spell is for my family only.” I laughed when he scowled, but I saw a looming presence headed our way.

“Ten points from Gryffindor for distracting Miss L/n.” Snape walked away as quickly as he arrived, and George’s classmates groaned. Fred grinned.

“So, how did you choose the three people?” I asked, preparing the potion ingredients.

“Tell me how you did the spell and I will.” George tapped his nose.

“No way. I don’t care that much. I think I’ll go tell Snape that you’re in the wrong seat.” I went to stand up and George yanked me down.

“You do that and you’re dead. You’ll become the target of every prank we pull.” He glared at me and I laughed.

“Only kidding, George. Lighten up a little, anyone would think you’re related to Snape.” He scowled at me and I smiled, adding asphodel roots to the potion.

It was two days before my next prank. I had been practising this one like crazy, because levitation was hard enough when you weren’t levitating sixty plates at once. The other houses had done their first pranks throughout the two days, and meal times were the prime time. Every time we sat down for meals, students anticipated the prank, but never who it was for, and never what it was.

When we sat down for dinner, I fiddled with my wand under the table, practising that damn swish and flick. I piled some pasta onto my plate, and I scanned the table to make sure everyone had food on their plate.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” I muttered. The plates, sixty fucking plates, all flew up. The hall was filled with loud laughter and groans, and the Slytherins tried to reach theirs, which was settled above their heads. The plates only went higher, always just out of reach. Snape stood, and marched over to the table. The plates all moved towards Snape like he was a magnet. He was surrounded, and still out of reach from them. All we could see was a tornado of plates, no Snape.

“Oh my god!” Astoria squealed, and I gasped with her.

“Where did he go?” I laughed and tried to peer through the tornado.

“Is he dead?” Shit, I fucking hope not. I moved the plates away, and they settled back on the table, in completely different spots.

“Who the fuck eats meatloaf?” I stared at the lump in front of me. Hmm, that would be a good prank.

“Just get a roll and put it in there. Tastes slightly more bearable.” Astoria had a tuna salad, that stunk.

“Tuna smells, but it doesn’t taste that bad. No, I am not swapping for your meatloaf.” I groaned, and poked the meatball with the fork. Snape slunk back to the teachers table, and that was the end of that.

George caught my eye when Astoria and I were leaving the Great Hall. He winked, and I winked back.

Two days later I had a new plan. This one, like the plates, didn’t involve one of the twins products. This was just me and my words. With the help of the house elves, of course.

I made up an excuse to skip our free last period, telling Tori I had to talk a professor. I didn’t say which one, and she didn’t ask. I went to the kitchens, and with a tickle of a pear I entered. House elves were bustling about, and I stopped one.

“Hi!”

When I left, it was with a smug smile and chocolate around my lips.

We sat down, the food already appearing. It looked delicious, as always. I didn’t quite know what to grab, knowing it all tasted the same. I decided on my usual, delicious cheesy pizza. I put on my plate, and filled my goblet with juice before hearing the shouts.

I feigned shock on the off chance anyone was looking at me, and I craned my neck to see the commotion.

Astoria spat out the pizza she had just taken a bite of, and took a gulp of her goblet.

“What the fuck is wrong with this pizza?” She looked so disgusted, and I laughed.

“What do you mean? I know you’re picky but damn, did you have to come after pizza? It didn’t do anything wrong-” She shoved her slice in my mouth and I groaned, biting down. It tasted like shit. Personally, I’ve never eaten shit, but it tasted like the scent of Astoria after she ate baked beans. I spat it out into my napkin, and almost threw up.

“Ew!” I didn’t realise it would taste quite as bad as this. The house elves had truly outdone themselves. With a flick of my wand the taste of shit was vanished from the food, and I picked up my pizza.

“Let’s try mine.” I took a bite, and the cheesy goodness overwhelmed me. I sighed in happiness, and practically shoved the slice in Astoria’s mouth. She glared at me as she chewed, but it turned into a dreamy look. I picked up another slice and took a bite. Delicious.

“Hey, it tastes good now!” Millicent Bulstrode, a girl a couple years below us, belted out. Everyone hurriedly took another bite, collective sighs of relief filling the room. Astoria and I shared relieved grins, and I wondered what the hell I could do top my previous pranks.

We heard the next morning on our way to breakfast. Roger Davies had been caught by Filch trying to slip frogs into the Ravenclaw’s breakfast! Pansy, a girl in Millicent’s year, spilled the news excitedly.

“Apparently there’s been a competition, it’s not just pranks for fun. I heard that two people from each house were chosen by the Weasleys to battle it out it pranks. See you!” She whisked off to spread the news to others, while Tori and I shared a look.

“This does sound very, how will I put it, Weasley.” I said, and Astoria laughed.

“True. I wonder who the Slytherin students are.” We looked around at the group that was with us, trying to figure out who it was. Or, in my case, trying to act like it wasn’t me. We reached the Great Hall, to see the Weasely twins with Roger at the front, talking with Dumbledore. That couldn’t be good. Tori and I took our usual seats, when Malfoy sat on the other side of me.

“Hey L/n.” I eyed him suspiciously.

“Morning Malfoy.” He gave me a small smile before turning to his friend on his other side.

“That was weird.” I murmured to Tori, who shook her head.

“He likes you. Godric, Malfoy likes you!” I laughed hysterically, choking on my orange juice. Tori was funny.

“I’m serious-“

“Attention, please. Could the two students from Slytherin and Hufflepuff involved in the Weasley twins, ahem, contest, please make their way to the front.” The hall fell silent, and I eyed the Hufflepuff table. Who was going to stand up? When Cedric Diggory, the dreamy curly haired boy stood up, I gasped.

“Where’s Slytherin’s competitor?” Tori glanced around the table, and when I stood up, she gasped.

“You bitch!” I hid my smile as I walked up, my cheeks burning red. This was so embarrassing.

“In case students were unaware, these three students recently undertook a challenge set by the Weasley twins. Best pranks win until someone gets caught. To determine who’s pranks were the best, the loudest applause takes the title of Vice Pranker. Applause for Davies.” The Great Hall erupted in chatter and claps, and I knew that it would be silent when my name was called.

“Diggory.” Hufflepuffs are loud, I’ll give them that. The screaming that was heard was deafening, and I grinned at Diggory. I never would have guessed him.

“L/n.” The Great Hall shook, and I covered my mouth. For what must have been the first time in Hogwarts history, Slytherin and Gryffindor were on the same side. Who would have guessed?

“Y/n L/n, I now pronounce you Vice Pranker. Will you please step forward and close your eyes to claim your prize.” My eyes searched Tori’s in the crowd, but I couldn’t see her. I stepped forward hesitantly, closing my eyes. I heard shuffling, and when lips met mine, I opened my eyes. George stepped back and grinned.

“Vice Pranker. Pleasure to meet you.”