#except maybe merlin himself
Text
Whumptober day 8: Everything Hurts and Im Dying
Fandom: Merlin
Prompts;
Stomach pain
Head Trauma
Back from the dead
Havent touched Merlin for awhile, since I was mad at the ending, but lets do this. So lets go with the timeline of "Arthur knew of Merlins magic a bit sooner than his damn death." And the one where the knights kinda knew too, it took awhile, but they also knew before Arthur.
Merlin stares out the window of the coffee shop, watching the park across the street bustle with activity. Even after all this time, he still cant help but think about how different things were before. How sports have gone from duels and jousting, to games where you pass things back and forth.
He can imagine his friends, staring with him, he think a few would probably like or even prefer these games, but also the faces of scrutiny from others. How there would be bets and goading until they all ended up at the park to try it out...
He wonders how their lives would have differed, if they'd been raised in this time instead. Would Morgana have found a way to thrive? Would Uther have been so... him? Would everyone have found a way to be happier and safe and alive?? Would he have had to watch a whole world change and disappear? Watch his friends leave him?
He shakes the thoughts from his head, it was no use dwelling now. He just needed to come to terms with the fact that... he would be alone forever, in a world that no longer seemed to need a King. Which was fine! Why would he want to watch the ones he loves die again?? Hes been alone this long, he could deal with it.
He sighs to himself, before taking his leave, it was best to head home when his brain got like this. To read and let his magic surround him in the safety of his property, until his mind quieted enough for him to continue on. Merlin stuffs his hands into the pockets of his light jacket and keeps his head down as he makes his way through the crowds. He makes a turn where the crowds thin, and finds his head being aquanted with a plank of wood.
He supposes thats another way to clear his mind.
...
Merlin supposes that he probably jinxed himself.
The world was always listening, and he figures it probably finds him ungrateful or something, which he probably is. So now it was going to give him something to complain about, like a mother tweaking the ear of a spoiled acting child. He didnt think he was necessarily spoiled, but he could see how this could maybe get him out of the rutt he was stuck in.
After all it'd been awhile since he was kidnapped.
Given, this one would be a little harder than the others to escape. What with the glyphs carved into the manicle around his ankle, and the blaring headache that was making any sort of concentration difficult. And, Whoever captured him this time, knew what they were doing, he felt like Kilgharrah in the cave beneath the castle.
"Are you awake demon?"
Ah, so one of those cooks.
"Holding your tongue will not gain you anything. Grant me what I want and maybe there will be mercy in your future."
Why is this his life? This guy was a headache on top of a headache. He doesnt deign the guy with a response, hes perfectly fine trying to get his head to stop spinning, and then find a way out of her.
"Fine, we shall see who can outlast who."
He's left alone, in a mostly dark, dank basement of sorts. In a cage and magic bound, with a head doing its best impression or a basket ball dribble, and an eery silence he wishes would leave him alone.
...
For someone who cant die, Merlin can get hungry. Of course, he doesn't have to eat all the time, but it helps with energy and keeps him from being utterly miserable, and helps with healing and stuff. He doesnt like the feeling of being hungry of course, the pain that comes from a stomach trying to eat itself is less than pleasant.
But it does let him know that he's been here long enough to be this hungry. A week, maybe a week and a half, two at most.
Its annoying really, more than anything, unable to use his magic more than a few sparks, unable to move more than the chain and cage allow, and the hunger pains that wrack through his stomach often enough leave him curled up. He'd much rather be moping at home, or finding something to fill his time, or even plotting his next life. Not sitting here, a prisoner to a meer imbecile.
He comes down every so often, Merlin estimates it could be every other day, but his head has yet to clear enough to really measure any time beyond how painful anything is. Which is why the sound of footsteps on the stairs doesnt startle him, even if he's sure he just saw the man. He stays curled in his corner of the cage, arm wrapped around his stomach as another wave of pain wracks his weakened frame.
The footsteps stop at the front of his cage, slide abit to indicate a crouch, this is new but Merlin does not move, he will not give the man that satisfaction.
"I know its been awhile, but a smile would be nice."
His head snaps up faster than it should, a sharp pain and wave of dissiness hitting him, hes glad for an empty stomach then, lest he lose what he had.
"Easy there."
As his vision clears, he sees the owner of the voice, he wonders if its his mind playing tricks, but hes just different enough to make him think otherwise. Hair a little longer, face younger, but his eyes exactly the way he remembered,
"Lancelot?"
"There you are buddy. Looking a little rough there Merlin, think you can hang on a little longer?" Lancelot holds out a sandwich of all things, and as Merlin tentatively reaches forward and is able to take the food, hes finally convinced, he takes his friends hand and is sure he'd cry if he was able.
"You're really here?" He asks to be sure, and Lancelot gives a sad smile.
"I am, and Im pretty sure the others are too. Kinda funky being brought back as myself and not a puppet, but its good to see you Merlin."
"But, Albion doesnt really exist anymore, theres no kingdom for you all to save." Merlin doesnt understand, Albions need was supposed to bring Arthur back, and yet Albion is no more, how is Lancelot here?
"You're still here arent you? You really think we'd stay away from you?" His grin is as handsome and cocky as it always was, "Im afraid I have to go Merlin, but we'll get you out, just hang on a little longer."
"Tables have turned huh?" Merlin tries for a grin, but doubt sinks in, "this isn't a trick right? Its... a little hard to believe."
Lancelot squeezes his hand,
"Have faith my friend, we're with you always."
And its only the fact he walks out, with another reassuring smile, and he can hear the door open and close, that keeps that hope alive. That the sandwich doesnt turn to dust in his hands or mouth is another relief, even if it sits rather heavy in his stomach as its energy is eaten through quickly. Nausea waves through him, and he forces the food to stay down, before hes left feeling empty once more, if not less shaky.
He doesnt fully understand how he could have been what brought them back from the dead, but if it was true... well maybe the world was finally answering his grief.
...
Coming back to life was weird.
Reincarnation was different than necromancy, and this felt different than reincarnation, if that made any since. Sure they all looked the same, if missing some scars and stress marks, but they hadn't remembered who they were until a week ago. At precisely the same time, that they could tell anyway, they collapsed and were practically dead. Coming back with memories of old, and of the lives they had in this century, but also with a new feeling in their guts.
Now Lancelot knew the feeling of Merlins magic much more than the others did- or rather could recognize it since their varied knowledge of said magic- and this feeling reminded him of it. And it was this feeling that had them all ending up in the same place, the place where Merlin was being held.
Lancelot had been the first to arrive, he had been close, mearly a bus ride away. But Percival hadnt been far behind him, that was his first clue that the others had to have come back as well. He couldnt bare to have Merlin so close and not give him some hope, so with Percy on watch, Lancelot had visited the warlock. The sight had nearly killed him again, and he vowed to run the man through for hurting his friend.
But this was a new world, and so he and Percy decided it best to wait for the others, at least for a short while, to devise a plan that wouldnt have them tried as murderers. And until then, joining the cult was easy, holding back on knocking heads harder but managable, for Merlin they'd behave, unless of course they caused further harm, but they would not fail him.
Not again.
...
Arthur was pissed to say the least. Coming back only to find Merlin in trouble and a world that was so different from the one he'd given his life for, was unsettling to say the least. But mostly, the fact someone was picking on his idiot, he would not let that stand.
It helps that his sister in this life is a lawyer and has rubbed off on him enough to know exactly what to do. And with his men with him, well, no one would stand between them and their much needed reunion.
...
He wakes, after an unwitting sleep- thinking it was nothing but a dream. His stomach still wishes him dead, and his head- though a bit clearer- still smarts with a wicked headache.
He releases another few whisps from his hand, simply to remind himself of what his magic is, even at the cost of a burning ankle. He will have this shackle destroyed somehow, whenever he does make it out of here- and he will, this man will make a mistake soon enough.
Said man makes another visit, though this time he seems fit to follow through on previous threats. A taser of all things is unexpected, and painful, but also not as bad as quite a few things from past lives. Still, he convulses, crumples into a heap on his side, but glares at his captor.
"The only thing you'll receive from me, is a curse. Clotpole." He manages, past a dry thoat and aching lungs.
"So he speaks. Perhaps a while longer and you'll be more... aggreable."
The man walks away once more and Merlin lays his head on the cool floor of his cage. He'd been through worse, but at least then he'd had a purpose, something to look forward to. He was so tired.
...
Elyon didnt know what this guy wanted, but if he really thought this would get him anywhere, he was dumber than he thought. The only thing he was doing was unknowingly giving them more reason to leave him for dead.
And boy did they feel no remorse in it.
This guy had a long list of crimes, sins, and dirty deeds. And this cult and its members were much of the same. They'd be doing the world a service to say the least, and Elyon knew they all looked forward to walking away with Merlin in hand.
They didnt come back for nothing after all.
The plan had come quickly, Arthur was ruthlessly efficient as he laid it out for them, and it wouldnt be hard to accomplish. The cult had gatherings- summoning attempts and the like- nearly weekly, and it was the perfect time to act.
While Arthur, Lancelot, and Gwaine would get Merlin, the rest of them would ensure this summoning ended in fire. An easy accident to have, or an offering/summoning gone wrong, all likely and believable conclusions. They'd make sure of it.
...
Gwaine percures the keys, a slip of hands for both the cage lock and ankle shakel was easy enough, the leader really was an idiot. Slipping off as the others gather is easy enough too, and while they want a piece of destroying this man, Merlin came first.
As they make their way down the stairs, Gwaine is not fully prepared for the sight. Lancelot had of course warned them, that Merlin was in bad shape, that he'd been through a lot, though none of them quite knew what. They were mostly relieved he seemed to remember them, and their life before, and even seemed to have magic... and the more Gwaine thought on it the more things didnt add up, or well, painted an ugly picture. But that wasnt important right now, they could make up for lost time later, for now they needed to get him out of here.
Three weeks down here was too long for their friend, and they swore it would never happen again.
Merlin stays curled on his side, hair falling over his closed eyes, though its obvious hes not asleep, tense as he is. Lancelot crouches low as Gwaine starts on the three locks on the cage.
"Merlin, we're here. Im sorry it took so long, but we're getting you out of here."
The man doesnt answer, though a tremble starts in his limbs that worries them all. Arthur steps forward then, keeping an ear on the door,
"Come now Merlin, I surely dont pay you to lay around all day."
That has him moving a bit, head turning just slightly for an eye to peak through the hair, squinting at the three of them with scrutiny. Gwaine get the door open and enters slowly, hands out in hopes he doesnt spook his friend.
"Gonna get that nasty shakle off yeah?" He asks, trying for soothing.
"Wasnt a dream?" He asks, voice a little slurred and hoarse from either disuse or dryness or both.
"We're here Merlin. And we're getting you out."
...
They watch the estate burn for bit, far enough from the city to bask for a moment, before they take Merlin far away. Hes skinny and tired, eyes telling them they missed a lot, but hes alive.
And maybe, maybe he didnt come back from the dead like they did. But as they assure him of their pressence, a little bit of life blooms in those georgous eyes of his. And things start to feel whole.
#whumptober2022#no.8#stomach pains#back from the dead#head trauma#bbc merlin#fic#blunt force trauma#starvation#kidnapping#mild torture#mentioned murder#angst#everyone loves merlin#except maybe merlin himself#but they'll fix that#assume Morgana is good in this reincarnation#and Gwen#the others dont know Merlins been alive this whole time but they suspect#oof
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
listen ok so i made some good jokes yesterday about Lestat having an onlyfans but i am back today with a new essay and this one is entitled
Why The Invention Of Social Media Is Going to Permanently Save Loustat's Fucking Marriage
come on this journey with me.
ok so on one hand we have Louis, who does not like to leave the house except when he absolutely fucking has to and even then he resents it. my man wants to be at home with a book 100% of the time and he's so fucking valid for that. When he leaves the house, bad things happen to him. He has learned this and honestly i can't fault his evidence. it sucks out there. it truly incredibly sucks out there.
the problem is that sometimes he is married to lestat, who starts clawing at the walls if people aren't paying attention to him for 12 consecutive seconds, and being Out Of The House is the best place for him to go foraging for People To Pay Attention To Him. my man once had a rock star career the way that some people get addicted to meth brewed in a trashcan in someone's garage. Louis, through no fault of his own, is simply not capable of filling this psychological need no matter how hard he tries, except he should not even HAVE to try like that, because no one can do it, because Lestat is fucked up and like wasn't hugged enough as a child or something
this imbalance in their relationship is the core source of all their marital problems since day 1: THIS man's idea of a good time is chilling on the sofa in silence and maybe staring contemplatively at the wall for a while, and THIS man starts self-destructing at a truly astonishing rate if no one is making eye contact with him. If you make Louis go outside and socialize with people, he's miserable and sulking and whining about "are we done can we go home". If you make Lestat sit in silence in a chair for five minutes he starts crying and claiming that No One Has Ever Loved Him, Ever, Ever, And No One Understands Him, And He Hates Everyone In This House and He Is Being Actively Neglected And Cruelly Mistreated Right Now And No One Even Bothers To Feel Sorry For Him, This Is BASICALLY Domestic Violence Against Him Personally, If Only Anyone Knew About The Quiet Hidden Tragedies Of An Unhappy Marriage, and then he breaks some furniture and a window and isn't seen again for six weeks and comes back like "you will not believe what just happened, i [checks notes] met Merlin and also a dragon who gave me three wishes, brb i'm going to write another book about it :))))"
all you fucking have to do to fix their problems is to hand Lestat a cellphone and say the words "do you know about social media? you can say whatever shit you want and there's always someone awake in some time zone to talk to you." Suddenly Lestat is now very interested in sitting quietly on the couch, Lounging Alluringly and posting thirst traps on instagram and finally getting emotional fulfillment from all the likes and comments of "omg???? omg this is the hottest man alive". he does not have to leave the house anymore to get his attention meth. His yawning abyss of neediness is being fulfilled by having parasocial relationships with millions of strangers online who all think he's sexy and don't have to experience how fucking awful he is up close. he can flirt pointlessly with 200 people at once which is FINALLY ENOUGH FLIRTATIONS FOR HIM TO SATISFACTORILY JUGGLE
Meanwhile Louis is 3 feet away, vaguely reflecting to himself that HE is feeling all emotionally fulfilled because they're spending this great Quality Time together in perfect silence while he reads his book and Lestat plays on his cellular telephone and only OCCASIONALLY giggles to himself or says "louis which of these photos do you think is sexier, the one with four buttons undone or the one with five buttons undone" Louis is feeling like his Opinion is being Valued, Louis feels like he is being Consulted on Matters that are Important To Lestat. He has opinions about the photographs. It is not that much trouble to be interrupted from staring philosophically at the wall to spend five seconds looking at a photograph and then saying "that one". Finally he is experiencing Cozy Domesticity. he is so horny about it. lestat is surprised and bewildered about the sudden sharp increase in the amount of sex he is now getting but before he can make any vaguely mean comments about it (bc he's confused and vaguely defensive and worried that it's going to stop out of nowhere and he doesn't know any other interpersonal skills for expressing a thought) his phone pings about how he's just broken 5 million followers on instagram and he totally forgets to even mention the sex thing, which means that he continues getting the sex instead of inciting an argument about the sex and going through his 800th divorce from Louis
all their friends are extremely confused when a whole month, and then six months, and then a year goes by without another Loud Divorce happening and no one crashing through their front door like "I HAVE TO SLEEP IN YOUR GUEST COFFIN FOR THE NEXT MONTH, HE IS INTOLERABLE". They are worried. they are concerned. what is going on over there. are they both dead. no, they can't both be dead, Lestat just posted another tiktok of him sucking on his own fingers, which he would not be doing if Louis were dead. there is an ecosystem collapse happening in the groupchat and it's because the main Drama Vectors have been neutralized
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
I'll reschedule | James Potter
Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3.7k
Summary: James faces the consequences of his actions. A confrontation goes wrong and you have a chat with Sirius.
Notes: Thank you guys for your kind comments! I hope I tagged everyone that wanted to be tagged. Also the parent part is very self-indulgent lmao
Part one Masterlist
________________
James spent the following days trying to get your attention and receiving a taste of his own medicine.
You gave him another smile that didn’t fully reach your eyes and he cursed at himself for somehow having your relationship feel so distant and awkward. He was your boyfriend for Merlin’s sake!
“I can’t, I’m-“
“-sorry, yeah. I know.” James almost let out a pained laugh at the irony of the situation.
‘Oh how the tables have turned,’ James bitterly thought to himself in defeat. You leaned forward as if you were going to give him a kiss, his heart jumping at the thought.
He realised in horror that he couldn’t recall the last time he had given you a proper kiss on the lips and could do nothing but watch in disappointment as you changed your mind mid-step and left for whatever it was that you had planned, with nothing but a small wave.
James spent the next day in class stealing glances at you. You noticed it of course, but couldn’t bring yourself to look back, humiliation at his words still lingering in the back of your mind. ‘Why are feelings so complicated’, you groaned in dismay.
You sighed and buried your face in your hands, arms propped up by your elbow on your desk. You’d talk to him tomorrow. Tomorrow was the last day before Christmas holidays. If everything went south, you’d be able to escape for two weeks. Not that you needed that back up plan. Everything was going to be fine.
Everything was not fine.
“You were eavesdropping on us?!” James shouted out, an offended look on his face and his hands thrown in the air. You visible winced at his loud voice.
You couldn’t help but scoff at the fact that of all the things you said, what you finally confessed about your feelings, that that’s what he picked up on.
You stared at him in disbelief for a moment. Your mouth open while you tried to look for words.
“You’re really going to- you know what? Yes. And I’m sorry for eavesdropping alright? In fact, I too would’ve preferred not to have heard you guys say those horrible things, but I did hear it all, and you did say all that,” you shot back angrily.
“But if you wanted me to back off and be less of a clingy, high maintenance attention demanding loner, then maybe, just maybe,” you stressed the word maybe. “You could’ve pulled me aside and told me you were embarrassed of me in private, instead of telling all your friends except for me! That’s not how a relationship works, that’s cowardice.”
“Oh so you’re an expert on relationships now?” He scoffed. “How would you know how relationships are supposed to work, I’m the first bloody friend and boyfriend you’ve ever had! If not for me, you would have no one.” He spat out the last sentence and as soon as it left his mouth, he clamped his mouth shut and took two steps back in disbelief at his own words. Regret immediately setting in.
Your face was heating up, in embarrassment and anger. You took a few steps back in shock as well. You wanted to yell at him, tell him that you’d become friends with your potions partner recently, that he wouldn’t know that, because he’d been acting like an arse with his head stuck up in it, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to fight. You took a deep breath.
‘Count to ten, Y/N.’
James opened his mouth and closed it again, no words coming out, still shocked at himself. He felt like he was in a daze, that this was a bad dream.
The silence was too much, the tension too high. He half expected you to reach out and slap him across the face, but also knew you wouldn’t. So instead he stood there frozen, awaiting your reaction.
James could feel blood rushing in his ears before you finally broke the silence.
“That’s not how a relationship works for me,” you repeated calmly but firmly, completely disregarding his insult. This time however, you emphasized the last two added words.
James seemed to sober up alarmingly fast at that. He shot up in panic and shook his head in denial. “No, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean any of it! I’m not embarrassed of you, Darling. I’m not, I promise,” he tried, finally finding the words.
He looked at you pleadingly and watched helplessly as you pulled a hand through your hair in a distressed manner, jerking away from him when he reached out to you.
It was quiet again in the room. The only sounds your heavy breathing.
“It’s not working for me.” You eventually whispered, hurt evident in your voice at your sad realisation. You said it more to yourself than to him, but his ears caught it anyway.
James’ heart skipped in fear. The implication of your words were crystal clear to him. It smacked him in square the face and had him physically reel back. He stumbled back into the nearest wall. It hadn’t even occurred to him that you two breaking up was ever a possibility. You were madly in love with each other. And he loved you so incredibly much, you knew that, right? He felt nauseous.
You didn’t spare him another glance and stumbled away, desperate to get away from him. James’ knees buckled and he sunk to the floor, shock keeping the tears at bay for now.
Everything was really not fine.
“Prongs! Welcome back mate, I heard you’re a free man again!” Sirius greeted James with a cheer and a slap on the back when entered the common room. Sirius was wearing a big grin on his face.
James jerked away and furiously shook his head. “No, she- we haven’t broke up,” He insisted. “We had a fight b-but, we never officially said we were done, so we’re still- she’s still my girlfriend. So don’t say that, it's not true-“
Sirius noticed how distraught James actually was about the situation and the grin abruptly fell off his face, making space for concern. He put his hand on James shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. He threw a look at Peter and Remus who looked taken aback by his defensive tone, also looking concerned.
“Okay,” Sirius nodded. “She’s still your girl, Prongs. Understood.” James nodded back and then shook Sirius’ arm off his shoulder and went upstairs to their room, plopping down on his bed, smothering his head in his pillow where he could finally cry.
You took the train and left Hogwarts that very same day. You called your dad and he promised to come pick you up at the platform. When you saw him, the only one on the platform so late in the evening, you ran up to him and he held you tightly. “Come on, sweetheart,” he nodded in appreciation at the elf who brought your luggage and brought you home.
You sighed and plopped on your bed, face first into the mattress. Exhaustion downing on you all at once and you fell asleep within minutes.
Your mother knocked on the door, knowing that that sufficed as you were a light sleeper. “Honey?” She called. “I know it’s late, but I think you should eat something nonetheless.” You made a noise.
“That mean I can come in?”
You lift you head up so you could say yes and she came in with a bowl of soup. You gratefully accepted it and she took the liberty of sitting next to you.
“You want to tell me about it?”
“Not really,” you admitted and your mother gave you and understanding look. “Then we’ll keep you distracted for now. In fact, the day after tomorrow, your father and I are having dinner with the Black family. You could come with us.”
“But it’ll just be all business talk,” you groaned, placing your bowl of soup on your night stand.
“Yeah, well you know the Black family is the main investor in your father’s business, business talk is unavoidable. But you know what, it wouldn’t be just business. They said that they would love to meet you.”
‘Doubtful,’ you thought.
“I’ll think about it.” You replied.
“That’s okay, you have another day to consider it.” And with that, your mother kissed your forehead before leaving your room, taking the empty bowl with her. “Goodnight honey,” she said before closing the door gently. ‘Sirius was always spending his holidays at Hogwarts, so it’d be safe to go,’ you considered.
‘So the fates are really into proving me wrong, lately huh,” you thought to yourself as you spotted Sirius with a scowl on his face, standing with his parents in front of their manor to great you.
And so, before you know it, you were sitting at the end of the ridiculously long table, in front of Sirius. You wondered where his younger brother Regulus was. “Let the children sit together, business is boring to them anyways,” you father had said.
Though he hadn’t been wrong, you would pay to be part of the adult talks rather than sit here in awkward silence, avoiding Sirius’ eyes.
The past three days had been a rollercoaster for Sirius. First, he had been mildly annoyed at the letter that came with an owl that belonged to his mother. Then, he had been absolutely dreading going home. He also felt bad and concerned for James, because he was being a sad pile of bones. And when he saw you, surprise and guilt seeped in. A real rollercoaster.
Sirius kept staring intensely at you. Finally, you’ve had enough and you snapped at him. “What do you want.”
“I need to talk to you, privately.”
“Why would I talk with my ex's best friend?We have nothing to talk about, and I’d rather die than be in a room alone with an arsehole like you.”
“You’re not his ex.” He pointed out.
You raised your eyebrows at his words, inquiring him to explain himself.
“You’re not- You two are still together. I mean, you never officially said it was over. You’re still his girlfriend, he’s still your boyfriend. James is still holding on to that.” Sirius searched your face for reactions to that confession but found nothing.
“Fine, I guess I’ll just officially send him an owl then,” you replied dryly, done with his crap. You threw your napkin on the table and got up. You excused yourself, thanked Sirius’ mother for the food and walked out of the room. So much for this being a distraction from James.
“Wait, Y/N!” Sirius yelled out as he chased after you. You kept walking, neither slowing down, nor speeding up, as you walked in the direction of your house, despite knowing that it was an hour drive by car.
A heavy silence hung between you two as he walked next to you, both staring out in front of yourselves.
“It’s my fault.”
Now this made you look up at Sirius. You eyed him up and down sceptically, coming to a stop. “Don’t give yourself so much credit, Black. You’re definitely not my favourite person on this planet, but despite you talents at DADA, last I checked, you can’t cast the Imperio curse yet.” Sirius refrained from grinning at your retort.
“So unless you’re telling me that you’ve been using the polyjuice potion and posing as James Potter who has been a massive twat of a boyfriend for over a month, I highly doubt it’s your fault.” With that, you continued walking again.
“No, and no. You’re right, I guess.”
“I am.”
Sirius gave you a look and tried again. “Look, he was just all over you. And maybe I had to get used to Prongs being a taken guy, all mushy, but we all missed him. So I teased him a little,” he explained but hesitated at the end.
“You teased him a little,” you flatly repeated. “You teased him and it turned him into an asshole?”
“It was just a bunch of guys laughing about our whipped friend,” he paused. “Okay and some complaining,” he admitted. “I didn’t know he would straight up go to avoiding you because he was embarrassed to show affection in front of us though.”
You massaged your temples. “Okay first of all, you suck and you’re a shitty friend.” Sirius pulled a face. “Eh, deserved,” he scratched the back of his head.
“But my point still stands. James chose to lie to me by making up excuses to not have to be around me.” You huffed in frustration. “I’m not... I’ve never been in a relationship before, but I’m pretty sure that’s like, rule number one of things not to do.” You kicked against a pebble on the road.
“And then he goes and says horrible stuff about me behind my back. That’s probably rule number two,” you added, a frown on your face at the recollection of events.
“But if that wasn’t enough, he didn’t listen to me when I told him how I felt about it and instead yelled at me, trying to shift the blame on me, as if it’s my fault that I overheard you guys. Oh and also, he insulted me again! Though, in my face this time, I’ve got to give him that.” You mumbled the last part bitterly and looked back up at Sirius who awkwardly looked at his feet while listening to you rant.
“So no, Sirius. You were a shitty friend, but by no means the cause of our break up. That’s on James.”
“Please, you don’t understand,” Sirius pleaded again. “James is miserable alright? As in he’s kind of being pathetic right now, he refuses to believe you guys broke up. He keeps insisting that you’re still together, that he still has a chance to make up to you.”
It was your turn to look at your feet. Sirius continued. It was his turn to talk now and he felt he needed to help his friend. “He loves you so much. He really misses you.”
You wryly smiled at Sirius. “He tell you to say that?”
“No. Well, not explicitly.” Sirius patted his back pockets and fished a crumpled envelope out of it. He handed it over. When you opened it, you found a folded piece of paper that simply said ‘I am so sorry. I miss you and I love you so much.’ In James’ handwriting. You sighed.
“Look, I’m just trying to help my git of a friend who is madly, hopelessly in love with you. And I’m trying to make things right between you two because I am partially at fault. And I know you love him. He’s just being an big idiot.”
“Try ginormous.”
Sirius now openly grinned. Okay maybe you weren’t so bad after all.
“Will you please talk to him? I’m sure he will apologize because he regrets everything. I know he does. And if you decide you don’t want to be in a relationship anymore, you tell him. Just not by sending an owl right now before talking one more time, please.”
A car sounded its horns behind you and you turned around to see your mother and father. The car stopped next to you and the door opened. You turned to look at Sirius again. “Will you see James before I do?” You asked. Sirius nodded.
You handed him the envelope back. He hesitated to accept it. “Give him this. Don’t worry, I’m not breaking up with my boyfriend. I’ll talk to him at Hogwarts.” You reassured him.
Relieved at your words, Sirius took the envelope and you gave him a thumbs up. “You’re not so bad, Black,” you said as you got in the car.
“Back at you!” He called after you. He watched your car drive off.
He checked inside the envelope and found the folded piece of paper. When he unfolded it, he found a uno reverse card stuck in between.
James was nervous. He impatiently paced around on platform 9¾, having arrived there way too early. Sirius had moved in with him over the holidays, running away from home and had brought a certain envelope with him. James heart had leaped when he found your card, putting it carefully under his pillow at night, carrying it in his pocket during the day.
“Merlin, Prongs would you just stand still,” Sirius commented from where he sat, leaning against a wall, cigarette twirling between his fingers.
“I can’t, Padfoot. This is literally the moment that will define the rest of my life!” James exclaimed dramatically, but walked over to Sirius and plopped down next to him anyways, mimicking Sirius’ action by twirling the game card around.
“Mate, you’ll be fine. She literally let you know she loved you too.” He nodded at the object James’ hands.
“But what if she loves me, but realised that she wants to be with someone who hasn’t acted like a stupid idiot?” James’ heart was racing at the thought. He’d spent the entire first week wallowing misery.
Other students started to arrive at the platform and James got back up to start pacing around again.
You softly pushed him away and immediately, the stream of self-deprecating words, apologies and other rambles flowed out of James’ mouth. You pecked his lips again to shush him.
You spotted each other at the same time. You offered him a hesitant smile but it was enough for James to take off in a sprint towards you.
He stopped in in front of you, unsure and apologies ready on the tip of his tongue. Someone called your name behind you and you looked back to see Wylan.
Turning to face James again, you offered him a fond expression and tiptoed to press a peck to his lips. James immediately responded to the kiss and he sighed in relief, shoulders less tense.
“We’ll talk later, okay?”
No, not okay, he wanted to say but you cut him to it.
“I’ve got a friend waiting for me,” you beamed up at him in pride and he melted at the sight. “Okay,” he relented, making a mental note to tell Remus and Peter to apologize to you too.
“You’ll let me know when you have time?” He asked.
“I’ll make time for you,” you assured him. “We’ll talk after supper, if you don’t have any plans of course,” you teased.
James shook his head laughing. “I won’t,” He replied earnestly.
“You don’t know that! Like what if a famous Quidditch player wants to meet you after supper, huh? Then what?” You challenged him. He shrugged.
“I’ll reschedule.” He grinned.
You shake your head and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. He watched you head in the direction of your Ravenclaw friend who had his back turned to you and walked back to Sirius.
“Wylan!” You skipped over and slung an arm around him, ruffling his already messy hair. He looked up as if he’d been caught doing something wrong and relaxed with a smile when he saw it was just you. You laughed at his skittish behaviour. “So how was your holiday?”
“I actually got a book on alchemy for Christmas. I brought it with me, thought maybe you’d help me?” He asked nervously, a bit embarrassed at his request.
“Oh none of that,” you waved your hand at his antics. “I’ve been helping you with dyslexia for a while now, of course I’ll help!” He offered you a grateful smile.
“You have it with you now?”
Wylan nodded and pulled out a ridiculously heavy book. You whistled. “Better get started on that right away, huh. We should find a seat.”
You two moved to get on the Hogwarts Express, but before you disappeared inside, you looked back at James to see he did the same thing. You exchanged smiles, he dramatically made a deep bow and mouthed ‘milady’. Then he turned around and pumped his fist in the air, grinning from ear to ear.
Sirius patted James on the back when he returned. “See, nothing to worry about. Right back to snogging your girl,” he laughed out loud, but no malicious intent this time.
“Still a long way to go, though,” James admitted, but he wore a fond smile on his face at the thought of you, all giddy inside. “But we’ll be alright, I think. I’ll be the best bloody boyfriend out there you know. You better get used to the snogging. And be nice to her, she really means a lot to me.”
Sirius pushed him. “I’ll have you know that we’re on extremely good terms now,” he exaggerated.
James snorted. “No, you’re not,” he immediately said.
Sirius grinned, having fun riling him up. “Why don’t you go ask her yourself, if you don’t believe me.”
James and Sirius walked towards their own compartment where they waited for Peter and Remus, arguing about it.
About two months later, Gryffindor had won the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. You ran down the stands and up to James, jumping in his arms. He fiercely kissed you, his friends and teammates hollering at him.
“Good luck charm,” he cheekily mumbled against your lips while flipping the others off, earning laughter. When the celebratory party was finally over, and the marauders and you retreated to their dorm, James instantly pulled you onto his lap, locking you in with his arms wrapped around you so tightly that you wriggled to get some air. Jokingly, you tapped out three times in mock surrender.
“And the winner is...”, Sirius drumrolled. “James Potter!” Remus and Peter jokingly clapped and cheered.
“Means you can let her breathe now, Prongs.” You mouthed a thank you at Sirius.
James pouted, offended. “Since when are you two such good buddies,” He complained.
Sirius stuck his tongue out. “Wouldn’t you like to know, lover boy. I told you, Y/N and I are on extremely good terms now.” He winked at you.
“Thought you’d be more happy that your girlfriend and brother could get along. I mean, figured it won’t be long until she becomes my sister-in-law.”
@moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @fanboyluvr @spiderman-stilinski @magical-spit @livelaughlivedilfs @nyenye @fluffybunnyu @prongs-moon @xcinnamonmalfoyx @akila-twt @treestarrrrrrrr @mrsmaybank13 @ireallywannasleep127 @imarimon @targaryenmoony @jessicamellarky @scriptsofthorns @lynbubble @variant-lokitty @elsie-bells @chichi3095 @my-beloved-fandoms @quackitysdrugdealer @pleasingregulus @mindflay3r @littlenerdybee
#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fluff#marauders era#james potter#james potter angst#james potter fic#james potter imagine#marauders fanfic#marauders
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
seeker | theodore nott.
pairing: theodore nott x fem!slytherin!reader
warnings: short, readers status not mentioned, nothing really!!!
summary: based on this request <3
a/n: this is my first request so i hope this is what you wanted !! <3
| posted: 02/07/24 | masterlist |
“merlin ‘enzo, can’t believe you dragged me to this game” theodore complained as he and lorenzo sat down in the benches of the slytherin stand.
“just because you aren’t on the team anymore doesn’t mean we can’t support mattheo, arse!” lorenzo slapped the back of theodore’s back.
“plus i heard they replaced you.” enzo snickered as theodore sent enzo a glare before turning his attention back down where the team was located.
the grandstands were bathed in a warm, golden warmth as the sun fell over the quidditch field. there was a nervous air of anticipation as the slytherin team prepared for their match versus ravenclaw.
as the teams shot into the air, y/n caught theodore's eye as the slytherin’s new seeker. he didn’t know much of her despite being in the same house. he had bumped into her here and there and maybe exchange a couple of words but merlin he didn’t even think she was into quidditch.
y/n darted through the air, agile and swift, eyes focused on the golden snitch. her quidditch robes billowed behind her as she flew, the green and silver colors of slytherin contrasting beautifully against the darkening sky. theodore couldn't tear his gaze away, mesmerized by the grace with which y/n maneuvered her broom.
as the game progressed, y/n's skill on the field was clear as the game went on. she soared through the air, dodging bludgers and racing after the snitch with a fierce determination that left theodore breathless. the way she moved, the way she commanded her broom with such confidence and precision - it was nothing short of captivating.
“y/n l/n has caught the snitch! slytherin wins!”
the crowd erupted in cheers, celebrating slytherin's victory. theodore's heart raced with adrenaline as he watched y/n land gracefully on the pitch, a triumphant smile on their face. it was then that y/n caught sight of theodore in the stands, her eyes meeting for a brief moment before y/n’s teammates swooped in to congratulate her.
after the match, theodore and lorenzo made their way down to the pitch, his heart still pounding with excitement. they made their way towards mattheo,
“bloody hell mate, good job out there!” enzo congratulated mattheo, pulling him into a bro hug as theodore stood next to them, except his attention was fixated towards the slytherin girl surrounded by her friends.
y/n and her friends noticed theodore’s staring. she gave him a small smile while her friends giggled, teasing y/n as they nudged her as he felt embarrassed as he was caught staring. he approached y/n, a hint of awe in his gaze as he spoke, "you were incredible out there. i’ve never seen anyone fly like that before."
y/n smiled, a blush creeping onto her cheeks at theodore's praise. "thank you," she said, a shy smile playing on her lips. "i'm glad you enjoyed the game."
as they talked, a new relationship started to blossom between theodore and y/n. theodore couldn't help but feel a deep sense of admiration for y/n- not just for her incredible quidditch skills, but for the passion and determination that radiated from her.
it was clear to him that y/n was someone truly special, someone who he wanted to get to know better and spend more time with. and as they continued to bond over shared interests and experiences, theodore found himself falling deeper and deeper for y/n, grateful for the unexpected connection that had brought them together.
#emsnotion#theodore nott#slytherin boys#theodore nott x reader#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin boys x reader#harry potter fanfiction#theodore nott imagine#—crimsntwlipᡣ𐭩
628 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Blooming Rose (Enchantress' Child!Reader x Ben Florian)
@iliumheightnights Hi friend! May I please request a little story? I'd love to read a story about Ben Florian dating a son of the enchantress reader. Reader still is learning magic and Ben helps him when he can and encourages him? All the fluff please?
In some respects, no one would necessarily blame your boyfriend's father for wanting to imprison your mother on the Isle of the Lost.
She did, after all, enchant a young, albeit spoiled, prince and condemn him (an eleven-year-old, mind you) to ten years of suffering and self-loathing in a body not his own.
But no. King Adam and his Queen would never have met if not for the Enchantress.
Besides, they learned well from the example of Queen Leah and King Stefan - don't piss off the magical entity in close proximity.
And so the Enchantress lived within Auradon, and you, her child, were born.
You're not sure you quite approve of the whole Isle of the Lost thing - your mother's punishments tended to get to people before they became irredeemable, so the idea of endless incarceration seems harsh, even by her standards.
But all the same, you are invited to Auradon Prep, mainly to study with the Fairy Godmother to hone your talents in magic. And since you aren't expected to enter a royal line, you don't even have to do some of the more inane Auradon courses.
But who would have thought that without any magic at all, you'd have ensorcelled the heart of Prince Ben.
Ben is just a spot of sunshine in your world, he's so affectionate and lovely.
And supportive!
He's figured out the loophole in the rule that he can't spend all his free time with you by organizing "study dates" in addition to normal dates.
But since magical homework and study is pretty involved, that just means he hangs around in your dorm with you more often than not.
Not that either of you mind.
Except this can sometimes lead to minor mishaps.
You're practicing a spell in the mirror, meant to help disguise someone by changing their appearance.
Focusing on your hair, trying to lengthen it just a little. Just a small test.
But then Ben leaps up to kiss you on the cheek and you wave the training wand just a little haphazardly-
And Ben gets a face-full of your magic.
"Oh my gosh, Ben! Are you okay?"
"Yup!" Ben groans from the floor. "Nothing broken. I think."
He hops back up to his feet, and you gasp.
Your boyfriend's smooth jaw has sprouted patchy growths of hair that are still thickening until they make a rather nice beard and mustache. "Ben... I..."
Ben sees himself in the mirror and grins. "Oh, this is nice!"
"It was an accident."
"If even your accidents are this great, you're gonna be a better wizard than Merlin!" Ben pats your shoulder before stroking his new beard. "It's not even scratchy!"
You blush. "You look really good with a beard."
"Do I look kingly?" Ben asks eagerly, striking a pose.
"You do, but let's try and find a counterspell quickly. Accidental magic tends to corrupt pretty fast. You might end up with the hair changing colors like a chameleon or something."
"That actually sounds kinda-"
"And then I wouldn't be able to see where to kiss you."
Ben instantly gets serious. "Let's hit the books."
"But uh... when you do reverse the spell... Maybe try it on purpose? I wanna see what kissing with a beard is like."
You grin. "Oh really? Why?"
"Cause when you're my Royal Consort, I'll probably grow out a beard and kiss you all the time, so... I wanna see what I'm working toward."
You laugh and then squeeze his hand. "In that case, let's get this thing reversed as soon as we can."
"Love you. My blooming rose."
"Love you. My noble king."
#ben florian x reader#ben florian x male reader#descendants x reader#descendants x male reader#descendants headcanons#headcanons
699 notes
·
View notes
Text
[REQUESTS OPEN]
[4.7k] remus is dragged out to a rock pub after being influenced by sirius, but maybe the pretty punk girl talking to him makes it worth the sacrifice. even if she makes him unreasonably flustered. (smut)
based off the prompt: “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly”
.
Remus Lupin was never one to let peer pressure get to him, especially done by the likes of Sirius Black.
His resolve was always pretty strong and despite his friend’s annoying persistency, he always did a pretty damn good job of telling him to fuck off before he finally caught the hint. It had been the practice over the many years of friendship the boys had shared and would most likely continue into their many years spent together into the future.
Except for tonight.
For some reason that was beyond him, he had broken his own tradition and found himself agreeing to whatever nonsense Sirius was rambling on about when he walked into the common room, dramatically sighing and pouting when he mentioned James bailed on him at the last minute for a date with Lily.
“C’mon, Moony, it’s just one night,” Sirius had pleaded, half lying on the boy’s lap so he could grab the book out of his hands and gain the werewolf’s full attention. “Prongs is off with Evans and Peter has detention with Minnie. Come on! You’re my only hope!”
“What about Mary?”
“It’s not her scene.”
“And Marlene?”
“She slammed the door in my face before I could even ask.”
Remus closed his eyes, letting out a sigh that told the boy his resolve was wearing thin. “And you can’t take Lily and James?”
“I’m not being the fucking third wheel again,” Sirius scoffed, nose scrunched up as memories flashed through his mind. “Not after New Years. I don’t think I’ll ever get my innocence back.”
Remus snorted. “Like you ever had it in the first place.”
Sirius waved him off, eyes wide and hopeful as he flashed his friend a grin. “So you’ll come with?”
“I–”
“Brilliant, see you at six, Moony!”
“I didn’t even say yes yet!” Remus called out after him but the boy was already running towards the common room door, not giving the boy a chance to even wiggle his way out of whatever Sirius had been begging him to attend.
And maybe that was his mistake. He never asked Sirius what this event was, mostly because it was usually easier to not be an accomplice in his crimes—even by knowledge. But that was clearly the regrettable choice when Sirius dragged him away from the school, using the map to guide them through the secret passages until they were beyond the wards before apparating to merlin-knows-where.
Because of fucking course Sirius Black would drag him to a punk rock grunge bar in a part of London he wasn’t familiar with.
“Pads,” he murmured in a warning voice, hands tucked into the pocket on his jacket as he followed his friend towards the door.
“Just chill, Moony,” Sirius called out as the sound of music thumped beyond the closed doors. “Who knows, maybe you’ll have fun.”
“In a muggle bar?”
Sirius turned to look at him over his shoulder, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Who said it was a muggle bar?”
Remus held back his own wince the second the atmosphere of the bar hit him: the loud music, the throng of dancing bodies, the smell of alcohol and sweat and the taste of tobacco and marijuana thick in the clouded air.
No wonder the little prick ran out before Remus could interrogate him on where they were going.
To his credit, Sirius had stuck to his side for a total twenty minutes before the boy disappeared into the crowd of dancing partygoers, drink in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other. Remus could only laugh and shake his head as he watched his friend go.
He knew there was nothing stopping him from walking out the pub and heading back. Despite his dramatics, Sirius would understand and wouldn’t hold it against him. But he knew the kind of mood his friend was in, and nine times out of ten, Remus would be needed to intervene before Sirius got his ass kicked.
Might as well sit around until that moment inevitably came.
He had tucked himself at the back of the pub where the bar was situated, taking a stool at the very end of the bar where he could sip on his drink and observe. He recognised most of the songs considering Sirius had played them in the dorm more times than he could remember, and he couldn’t deny he enjoyed some of them. But it was difficult to fit in when everybody there was in various pieces of leather clothing, chunky boots and more pieces of jewellry than he could ever imagine.
It was a pub full of Sirius Black’s and that thought was concerning enough for him to order another drink soon after.
He was fiddling with a napkin when a body slid between his stool and the one next to him, arms pressed against the sticky counter and the scent of vanilla overbearing his senses from the smell of the pub. It felt almost instinctive to keep his eyes on the napkin, watching the way the paper shredded with each piece he ripped off until he had a small pile lying beside his glass. It felt instinctive to keep his eyes anywhere but on the pair of eyes he could feel burning into his side.
“You look like you’ve just been dropped here after your shift at the library.”
But something about the voice was magnetic and he couldn’t help himself from turning his head to peek at you through the mess of brown curls on his head and—fuck, it felt like someone had hit him right in the centre of his chest.
Remus had met many attractive people in his life. Pretty ones and handsome ones and gorgeous ones and ones that took your breath. Everyone had a side of beauty in them that could make them shine and stand out in a crowd, but fuck had he ever seen someone like you.
His mind went completely blank when he looked at you, almost as though his brain was trying to process the fact you existed and were not just a perfect figment of his imagination. Your skin was covered with a thin layer of sweat, your hair was messy and wild from dancing and the makeup around your eyes looked a little more smudged than usual—but it was fucking mesmirising and he couldn’t find it within himself to look away.
He opened his mouth to say something—anything—to you. Hell, even just to say hello but the boy found himself speechless as he openly gaped at you.
“It’s cute though,” you reassured him, painted lips curving up in a smirk and it took him a few seconds to tear his eyes away from them. “Hot librarian is really in these days.”
“I’m not a librarian!” he blurted out, his cheeks instantly heating up when he realised how loud he had him.
But you laughed and the embarrassment swelling in his chest eased up a little at the sound.
“Of course not, silly,” you said with an amused tone in your voice. “You’re missing the glasses.”
Remus could only let out a shaky breath, hand clenching around his glass a little too hard that he was honestly surprised it didn’t shatter in his hold but he couldn’t quite find the words to reply just yet.
“So, how did you find yourself dragged out here?” you asked, seeming to take it upon yourself to continue the conversation even when the bartender dropped your drink in front of you. But you remained in your spot, tucked between the stools as you took a leisurely sip from the bottle you had just ordered. “Got a girlfriend who dragged you out?”
His eyes widened a little. “No!”
“No?” you questioned, not even bothering to bite back your smile. “Boyfriend then?”
“No, no, I–” Remus paused for a moment, clearing his throat as he tried to string together a coherent sentence. “I came with my friend, Sirius. He didn’t have anyone to go with so…I came.”
You raised your brows. “Do I get to know your name or do I have to keep referring to you as Sirius’ cute friend?”
Remus only hoped the lights of the pub didn’t pick up on his burning cheeks, or the way the tips of his ears matched his blush. “I, uh, Remus. My name is Remus.”
“Well, Remus, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said as you introduced yourself, extending your hand to the boy. You watched the way his eyes dropped to your hand, eyeing it carefully and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I promise I don’t bite.”
His eyes widened. “No, I–”
“Unless you want me to,” you added and watched in delight the way his lips parted in surprise.
Remus was different from every other witch and wizard in this establishment. From the tattered jeans and knitted sweater he wore to the worn trainers and dishevelled hair, he stood out like a sore thumb in a place like this. And yet, you loved it.
You loved it when you spotted him from across the pub. You loved it when you pushed your way through the crowd and made your way to the bar to get closer to him. You loved it when you could see the way his eyes fought to not glance over as you settled beside him.
You fucking loved how flustered he got around you. It wasn’t the first time you made a man feel that way and you doubt it would be the last, but there was something different—something more satisfying—when it came to Remus.
“I mean, I just—” he gulped a little when you stepped closer to him, his body seeming to have a mind of its own as his legs parted to accommodate you standing between them. “Yeah…”
“Yeah? You’d like that?” you teased, head tilted to the side as you raised a hand to his face. Your finger traced down the line of his jaw, watching the way it clenched under your touch before he let out a shaky breath. “Maybe I can add to those wicked scars you have.”
His heart was thundering in his chest. “Wicked?”
“Wicked hot,” you murmured absentmindedly as you traced along the scars slashed across his face. They weren’t obvious, the pale marks almost invisible against his skin in the pub lighting but you noticed them the second you stepped between his legs. And fuck, you loved the way they looked.
“T-Thanks,” he stuttered out, hooded eyes focused on how close you were to him. How fucking easy it would be for him to just lean down and—
“Do I make you nervous, Remus?” you asked innocently.
His eyes snapped back up to meet yours, a small crease forming between his brows. “I–no, why would you think that?”
“You’re really hot and you’re breathing funny,” you told him, though the gleam in your eyes told him this was beyond concern. You knew you made him nervous and he knew you loved. Fuck, he loved it. You were the kind of girl people would tell him to run for the hills if he ever came across you, but he didn’t want to run. He wanted to stay right where he was even if it was his own ruination.
“Crowds make me nervous,” he blurted out, smart enough to know you were teasing him but not quite brave enough to admit it. It seems like the Gryffindor within him couldn’t compete with the pretty girl standing between his legs.
Your smile made his breath catch in his throat. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he rasped as your hand fell to his chest, feeling his pounding heart beneath your palm before your hand slid down to intertwine with his.
“You wanna go somewhere a little more quiet?”
And before he could even process the question, the words left his lips.
“Lead the way.”
His drink was left abandoned on the bar counter as he let you pull him through the crowd of dancing witches and wizards. His eyes never strayed away from you, his attention completely locked on you as you led him down a dimly lit corridor before you reached a fire exit door and quickly pushed it open, leading him outside before the door closed behind you.
He glanced around, picking up on the small space as the light chill brushed against his heated cheeks. It seemed like it was a back alley, blocked off from the main street. The space was decorated with some old, battered sofas and chairs but there was an odd sense of comradery in the air.
“Are we allowed to be back here?” he asked, taking a few steps deeper into the back alley.
“Legally? No,” you stated simply, grinning at the way his head swivelled around to meet your gaze. “But that’s why it’s so fun.”
“You’re confident we won’t get caught?”
“Also no.”
Remus huffed out a little laugh. It was almost like you were reading out the marauders motto and he found his chest tightening a little at the idea.
He watched as you sauntered across the space, falling back onto one of the cracked leather sofas and grinned up at him. You patted the spot next to you, eyebrows raising a little in your offer and he couldn’t find it within himself to deny you.
Remus settled into the spot next to you, his thigh pressed against your thigh and his shoulder pressed against your shoulder. He could feel his body tensing at the touch, his hands laying on his lap in tight fists as he cleared his throat a little to distract him from the way his stomach twisted in delight at the lack of space between you.
“Relax, Remus,” you spoke softly, arm stretching out along the back of the sofa as your hand rested on his shoulder.
“You got something to help me relax?” he joked, though it came off a little flat with his shaky voice but you laughed regardless.
“Is that all you need to let me see the real Remus?” you questioned, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.
His eyes caught the movement, body working on autopilot when his brain went blank with an array of thoughts that made him want to squirm in his seat. “Maybe so.”
“You should’ve told me earlier,” you grinned at him, watching as his eyes went comically wide as you reached into your bra, only to pull out a joint a few seconds later. “Got a light?”
“Uh, no,” he murmured as he watched you place the joint between your lips. You raised your brows and Remus leaned forwards slightly, whispering a charm under his breath until the end of the joint lit up in a soft orange.
“Guess the nerd aesthetic isn’t for show,” you teased, taking a deep inhale before softly blowing out the smoke. “Good to see you got the looks and the brains, Remus.”
But the boy could barely reply, just simply content to lay his head back on the back of the sofa and watch you. The way your body was twisted, turned towards him with your legs tucked underneath you. The way your painted lips wrapped around the joint, staining the rolling paper with the colour of your lipstick but it drove him even more mad to see the marks. Even the way your hair fell across your face, a mind of his own as the light breeze softly grazed your skin, goosebumps raised on your arms but you only grinned when he offered to charm a heating spell over you.
He was completely and utterly enamoured about you, and he couldn’t bring himself to even care or bother hiding it.
“You think you can handle a hit, big boy?” you asked, a dangerous look on your face that told Remus you could’ve asked him anything and he would’ve agreed to it.
He nodded his head, eyes dipping down to your lipstick-stained joint before he lifted his hand to take it from you, but you acted quicker than the werewolf.
Before he could even process it, you had swung your legs over him and planted yourself on his lap. Your smile widened when you saw the way his cheeks flushed, his hands instantly dropping to your waist and holding onto you, almost like he was scared you were going to jump off his lap.
“Be a good boy f’me, okay?” you murmured before bringing the joint to your lips, taking a deep inhale and keeping the smoke in your mouth.
Your eyes never looked away from him as you gripped his chin, watching his lips part just enough for you to lean down and slowly blow the smoke into his mouth.
The boy beneath you let out a soft groan, your lips brushing against his and his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you a little closer.
“Keep it there,” you ordered him softly, nose nudging against his as you watched his face. As you watched the way his eyes started to water slightly and his lips trembled and only then did you whisper again. “Let it out.”
His breaths were a little shaky as he stared up at you, eyes a little hooded and hazy as your hand still gripped his chin. You murmured a soft praise under your breath, thumb fanning over his pouty lips but it wasn’t enough.
“Please,” he let out, his voice low and guttural and fuck, you couldn’t lie at the way your stomach clenched a little at the sound.
“Such a gentleman, Remus,” you murmured before you threw the joint somewhere behind you on the ground, both hands grabbing his face before you pressed your lips against his.
The boy shamelessly moaned against your lips, squeezing your hips as his lips began to move against yours. It was slow and lazy at first, no rush as your tongue teased him before you deepened the kiss. And then the pace started picking up and your hands were running up and down his chest, along his neck and through his hair and Remus felt like he was going to fucking explode.
The way your fingers tangled in his messy brown hair, tugging his head to the side before your head dipped down to kiss along the expanse of his neck and jaw, nibbling on the skin softly just to hear the way he whimpered into your ear when your teeth bit down on the spot just below his ear.
But no matter how passionately you kissed him and no matter how much he moaned, his hands never swayed away your hips. They stayed firmly planted at your sides, squeezing whenever you did anything that made his head fucking spin but they never moved.
He didn’t want to push your boundaries or cross a line you didn’t want. The boy could barely comprehend the super hot witch grinding against his lap and kissing him until he couldn’t breathe, he wasn’t about to ruin it with wandering hands.
But then you pulled away, lips red and swollen, and gave him a look that made his jeans feel tight around his cock.
“Do you want to fuck or not?” you asked bluntly, eyes darkened by desire and lust for the werewolf beneath you.
“I’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly,” he blurted out, cheeks tinted pink by his confession but it was the least of his problem when a smirk split across your face.
“Then touch me like you mean it,” you said as you slid your hands over his, guiding them along your sides and up your stomach until both hands rested over your tits. “Get it?”
“Got it,” he confirmed with a nod of his head, hooded eyes stuck on your chest as he gave your tits an experimental squeeze.
“C’mon, Remus,” you murmured as you leaned down to kiss along his jaw and towards his ear, lips brushing against him as your warm breath fanned over his skin. “Show me your wild side.”
Remus couldn’t get enough of you from that point on. Maybe it was the liquid courage. Maybe it was the weed that finally relaxed him. Or maybe it was that Gryffindor courage that finally made him get his head out of his ass and take what he wanted.
Because he wanted you. Fuck, he wanted you badly. He wanted you the second he first laid his eyes on you and now here you were, sitting on his lap and practically ordering him to touch you, and he honestly thought he was seconds away from waking up from the best dream in his life but this was real.
You were real.
And Merlin, did Remus want to bask in every fucking moment of attention you gave him.
“Fuck,” you whispered between kisses, your fingers tugging the fabric of his knitted sweater over his head. “You taste like chocolate.”
He lifted his hands, letting you chuck the sweater to the side before his hands were all over you again. The way he wrapped his arms around you, tugging you closer to him as your head dipped down to press kisses along his scars. The way his hands grabbed your ass, groaning at the way your jeans fitted you because it was just another thing added to your list of many perfections.
“Are you particularly attached to this top?” he asked breathlessly, fingers digging into your thighs as he impatiently tugged on the denim fabric.
Your hands moved to the button of your jeans, your belt already long gone and your jeans soon following. “Not really—”
You hadn’t even finished talking before the sound of fabric ripping echoed against the brick walls of the back alley, your top now in shred and abandoned to the side before Remus’ face was nuzzled between your tits, his hands groping any inch of skin his lips couldn’t kiss.
“Fucking knew it,” you moaned as your head fell back, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to leave pretty purple marks along the swells of your tits. “Wild side.”
“Just wanna make you feel good,” he muttered as a pathetic defence, but defending his honour was the last thing on his mind when he could feel the fabric of your soaked panties pressed against the bulge of his jeans.
Remus whined when you pulled away, even if it was for a short few moments to shed the remainder of the pieces of clothing keeping you away from each other. But then you were grabbing his face once again, fingers pressing into his cheeks as he stared up at you with wide eyes.
“You gonna let me fuck you, baby?”
He nodded.
“You gonna make me feel good?”
He nodded again.
“Good,” you murmured before kissing him senseless, letting your moans be muffled by his lips against yours as you reached down to stroke his cock. He whined and bucked against your touch, letting out a pathetic whimper when you squeezed his tip before you slowly sunk down on him, eyes falling shut and curse words leaving your parted lips.
“Shit,” he hissed, squeezing your hips as he watched himself disappear inside you. “You feel…so fucking good, sweetheart.”
“Fuck, Remus,” you breathed out, nails digging into his shoulders but he couldn’t even bring himself to care about the sting of pain. Not when you were squeezing around his cock, making the werewolf whine in response. “That’s it, baby, let me hear it.”
The idea of silencing charms and spells were the last thing on either of your minds. It wouldn’t take long to do, maybe less than thirty seconds. But you would be lying if he didn’t fucking love the idea that anybody could walk through that fire door and catch you both. That anybody could come out here and see the flustered, needy boy beneath you. That anybody could see the way he begged for your touch, your kisses, your filthy words whispered in his ear.
“Remus,” you moaned, your words seeming to get choked up in your throat as you bounced up and down on his cock, as you listened to the way he whined about how good you felt. “Fuck, that’s it, baby, just like that.”
He could feel the way you were clenching around him. He could see the way your eyes were fluttering shut, breathless remarks made as you tried to catch your breath but he knew you were struggling. Your legs starting to shake and your nails digging further into skin and you were close, so fucking close but you just—”
“Shit!”
You could barely comprehend the wizard below you as he lifted you, his hips bucking up into you at a relentless speed that made it difficult to fight the orgasm washing over you. You whined as he kept going, kept fucking you as stars started to dance in your vision and your muscles tensed but he never stopped. Never stopped fucking you until you were whining his name.
Your hands laid on his chest, your own lungs heaving for air as you rolled your hips against his, biting back the whimpers of pleasure that wanted to escape. “You didn’t—”
“Wanted to make you feel good,” he whispered as he kissed you, soft and chaste kisses that were pressed along your neck and chest as he continued to speak. “Wanna see you come again. You look so pretty when you come.”
“Fuck,” you murmured as his hands on your hips started to move you on his cock again. “Remus, I can’t—”
“Shhh, relax,” he whispered between kisses. “Let me make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart.”
And you didn’t have it within you to argue when he shifted you with unreasonably ease, picking you up like you weighed nothing until your back was pressed against the tattered leather sofa and he was crawling above you, kissing up your stomach and between your tits before he met your lips once again.
Your legs wrapped around his waist like instinct, ankles locked behind his back as he slowly guided his cock back inside you with a guttural groan, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he slowly began to thrust.
“Right there, baby, right there,” the words left your lips in breathless praises, seeming to spur the boy on as he gripped your hips, his tempo speeding up shit. “Shit, yes!”
“Fuck,” Remus whined, his cock hard and desperate for release. He didn’t know how much longer he could last inside you, last with your nails raking down his back and face scrunched up as your second orgasm was so close. He couldn’t help himself as a hand disappeared between your bodies, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit and watching as your lips parted in a silent scream as you came, him following you seconds after.
It took you a few minutes to ground yourself. To catch your breath and open your eyes, taking in your surroundings before you glanced down at the boy laying on your chest, his arms wrapped around you and soft kisses pressed on your skin that made your heart swell.
“Did you really throw your joint on the floor?”
The question caught you off guard before you laughed, your fingers running through his hair before he lifted his head up to look at you. “Want another hit?”
“No, I just—” Remus flashed you a sheepish smile. “I felt bad, don’t want you to waste it.”
“You’re quite adorable, aren’t you?” you commented casually, and despite the fact this boy had just given you two of the best orgasms of your life, he still had the audacity to blush at the simple compliment.
“Thank you,” he murmured before pausing. “I think.”
“It was a compliment, Remus,” you hummed as you pushed some of his hair away from his face, eyes scanning the small details you hadn’t noticed before. The small scars you couldn’t see unless you were up close, or the freckles sprinkled along the bridge of his nose or apples of his cheeks. “More people oughta tell you how pretty you are.”
He let out a slightly nervous laugh. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me pretty before.”
“Tragic,” you muttered before smiling at him. “I guess I gotta change that.”
His mood seemed to perk up a little. “You mean like…you’d wanna do this again?”
“You don’t?” you teased.
“No, I do!” he blurted out before clearing his throat. “I-I would love to see you again.”
“Good, because I wanna see how many other pretty ways I can make you blush, baby.”
And fuck, there were many ways a girl as pretty as you could make Remus Lupin blush.
.
#remus lupin#marauders#harry potter#hp#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin fic#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin smut#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders fic#marauders oneshot#marauders smut#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter fic#harry potter oneshot#harry potter smut#hp x reader#hp x you#hp x y/n#hp fic#hp one shot#hp smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU
Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace Thank you for your beautiful comments! And for the ones that gave me ideas, trust me, I'm taking them into account ;)
LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 (You're here) , PART 9
A little more of "The Dragon's Call"
Arthur: (at the feast waiting anxiously because Merlin is supposed to save him from "Lady Helen" to become his servant today and he isn't there yet)
Uther: Are you alright, Arthur?
Arthur: (too quickly) Yeah, right, excelent, never better.
Uther: You've been acting strange lately.
Arthur: (thinking) Well it's not easy to act normal around your dead father and your dead sister who wanted you dead. (says) I just haven't been sleeping well. I had... nightmares. Very long nightmares.
Uther: I see... (Thinking) I hope Morgana's condition isn't contagious.
Merlin: (Finally arrives with Gaius at the feast)
Arthur: (turns and his eyes find Merlin's almost immediately)
Merlin: (Thinking, while he looks at Arthur in the distance) Why is he looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?
Arthur: (Noticing Merlin is without his neckerchief, and he is so young and so beautiful, and he doesn't have his neckerchief on!) Gods have mercy!
Morgana: (enters in her breathtaking dress)
Merlin: (stares at her, but with a mix of longing and guilt)
Gwen: She looks great, doesn't she?
Merlin: (smiling sadly) Yeah...
Gwen: Some people are just born to be queen.
Merlin: (almost shouting) NO!
Gwen: There's no need to sound so disturbed.
Merlin: (composing himself) I'm sorry just... I think she could do better than Arthur that's all. (Thinking) And with someone that is not her brother.
Gwen: He's not so bad.
Merlin: (confused cause Gwen was supposed to agree with him) What do you mean? He was bullying a servant only a few days ago!
Gwen: I remmember. You confronted him about it.
Merlin: See? A total prat.
Gwen: And he also recognised his mistake and apologised. And he didn't arrest you for insulting him in front of his knights though that's technically treason.
Merlin: Okay, maybe not a total prat, but still a prat. (Thinking, worried) He was too nice indeed. Perhaps I was too harsh on him this time?
Morgana: (seeing Arthur is watching in Merlin and Gwen's direction) Have your eye on someone?
Arthur: (Cold) No.
Morgana: (playfully) Is it Gwen? or perhaps-
Arthur: Let's sit. Lady Helen will arrive at any moment (goes to his sit)
Morgana: ... Sure (thinking, while she goes to her sit) What's wrong with him?
Uther: (making an announcement) We have enjoyed 20 years of piece and prosperity....
Arthur: (thinking, resentfully) 20 years of genocide and lies.
Uther: ...It has brought to the kingdom and myself many pleasures but few can compare to the honor of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.
Lady Helen: (enters while people clap)
Arthur: (looks at Merlin in the distance)
Merlin: (very concentrated with his eyes on the chandelier, waiting for lady Helen to stand under it)
Arthur: (smiling to himself, thinking) So that's how you did it.
Everyone falls asleep, except for Arthur who does feel sleepy but is still slightly awake for some reason, so he gets to witness when all the room is filled with spiderwebs and Merlin uses his magic to make the chandelier fall over Helen, who is soon reveal to be Mary Collins.
Arthur: (confused) What... (thinking) Why didn't I fall completely asleep?
Merlin: (whose magic hasn't been able to freeze time since he traveled back in time, but he doesn't know why) Come on, come on! (Tries again to stop time but doesn't work) Damn it! (Shouts and runs to Arthur) ARTHUR!
Mary Collins: (throws the knife at Arthur)
Merlin: (covers Arthur with his body on time and the knife stabs his back)
Arthur: (horrified) NO! (Holding Merlin as they fall to the floor) No, no, no, no! You idiot, what were you thinking?!
Gaius: (running to Merlin) Merlin!
Uther: Who is this?
Gaius: My ward. (checks Merlin) We need to move him to my tower as carefully and quickly as possible. I can't pull the knife out here, he'll bleed to death.
Merlin: (smiling weakely at Arthur) I did it. (Tears of happiness) I did... (Starts closing his eyes).
Arthur: (panic mode) No! don't you dare die on me! (carries him as Gaius instructed) You're going to be okay, you're going to be okay. Stay with me (thinking) Please, don't leave me again. I just got you back. I can't lose you again.
Time skip. Merlin wakes up in Gaius's tower and with his wound bandaged. The knife didn't puncture anything important, but apparently the blade was poisoned. Fortunately, it was a pretty common one and Gaius took care of it rather quickly. Gaius scolds him for scaring him as expected but then hugs him gently and tells him he must not do any effort for at least 2 weeks and rest. Just as Gaius leaves for some herbs, Arthur enters to check on him.
Arthur: Better do as he says. I can't have my personal manservant injuring himself.
Merlin: Personal manservant?
Arthur: My father, the king, decided to reward you for saving my life by granting you a place at the royal household.
Merlin: (happy inside, but pretending to be annoyed) As your personal manservant? Couldn't he just give me gold or something?
Arthur: (playing along) Most would consider it a great honor.
Merlin: Well, I'm not like most people.
Arthur: (laughs a little) You certainly aren't. (Gets close and checks him out little, cause he's never seen Merlin without a shirt before and damn it! is hard not to stare, but as soon as his eyes land on the bandage, he turns serious) What you did was very brave... and stupid. You shouldn't have done that.
Merlin: (still mocking) If that's your way to say "Thank you for saving my life", well, yeah, I'm starting to regret saving your royal ass.
Arthur: I'm serious. Now you're my manservant, therefore my responsability and my concern. You're not allowed to put yourself in harms way, ever, not even for me. (Thinking) specially for me.
Merlin: (bewildered at the sudden concern) Is that a rule?
Arthur: It is now. Do I make myself clear?
Merlin: (touched, he smiles) Yes, my lord. (Thinking) I would die for you a hundred times over.
Arthur: (Thinking, a wave of nostalgia invading him) "My lord"... how much I missed that. (says) Good. Now get some rest (starts leaving, but stops and turns) And Merlin.
Merlin: Yes?
Arthur: Thank you for saving my life. (Makes a small bow, smiles and leaves)
Merlin: ...
Merlin: Did he just bow to me?!! 😨
...
Some explanation: Arthur is now, not immune, but a little more resistant to some mind spells since his mind is from the future and has already passed for all those spells before. Merlin's magic is kind of weak, because the ritual Arthur did used the magic from the tree, therefore Merlin's magic to do the time travel thing, so lets say his magic is a little exhausted and needs recovering, but it just last a few days.
#merlin bbc#bbc merlin#merlin#merthur#merlin fanfic#merlin fic#merlin prompt#merthur fic#arthur and merlin#merlin and arthur#merthur prompt#Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU
293 notes
·
View notes
Text
Smile In Your Sleep
Sebastian Sallow x f!MC (she/her)
Tags: explicit | non-con | somnophilia | dark!Sebastian | delusional thoughts
3.1k words
Summary: Sebastian watches her when she sleeps, safe in his arms as she seeks comfort from her nightmares. Beautiful, perfect, and utterly irresistible; who could blame him for indulging?
A/n: *sweats* I'm so sorry, Seb. I made him completely delulu and predatory, this boy is fucked up.
When had merely watching her sleep become not enough? Sebastian pondered the question as he lay in bed, willing her to crawl in with him through some hitherto unheard of telepathy; a cruel thought, as she only ever did so when suffering from particularly horrendous nightmares. He missed her warmth, particularly on these cold Winter nights, though he was restless when she did make an appearance.
He closed his eyes, picturing her laying next to him—eyes shut, her dark eyelashes fluttering as she dreamed, cheeks flushed from the heat under the heavy duvet and those kissable lips just barely parted to aid soft breaths. His memory conjured images of the slow rise and fall of her chest beneath those gorgeous breasts that regularly featured in his own dreams. Sebastian gripped his aching length, his clothes long banished as he lay in the confines of his bed. He lingered on the thought of pushing himself into her mouth, parting those lips further as he slid down her throat. In his fantasies, she didn't react; merely lay still, statuesque, perfect as he violated her.
"F-fuck…," he stuttered as he came hard, spilling over his hand and stomach.
The shame that so usually flooded his mind had gradually dulled over the weeks, making way for a resignation that this was no passing phase. What bothered Sebastian now wasn't the activities he conducted in private—that was his own business, after all—it was the desire to act out his fantasies, growing ever stronger each time she made his way to him during those hard nights. That spurred his guilt, more so because she was particularly vulnerable in those moments, being subjected to horrors she begged him to be able to forget.
He cleaned himself up with a sigh before heading to the shower for a more thorough cleanse, though it did nothing to wash away the unease settling in his stomach. Once dressed, he walked down to the common room with Ominis, spotting her leaning casually by the window and prompting his insides to squirm. She greeted them cheerily as they approached, running her fingers through her hair to sweep it out of her face, like some sort of temptress meant only to torture Sebastian. It was no secret that he found her attractive, except maybe to the woman herself, but not a living soul knew the depths of his depravity when it came to his lustful thoughts.
As she sat across the table from him at breakfast, he felt as if she could read his mind the way her eyes seemed to scrutinise everything he did, and he silently prayed to Merlin that she wasn't a secret legilimens.
"You okay, Seb?" she asked.
Sebastian smiled and nodded, heaping porridge into his bowl and shovelling it into his mouth to avoid speaking. He was far too distracted for small talk, and besides that, he could barely look at her these days without imagining his cock in her mouth.
"How did you sleep?" Ominis asked.
"Better," she smiled with a sigh of relief. "Maybe my nightmares have stopped."
Well, that wouldn't do.
Sebastian peered over his bowl and caught her watching him, her piercing eyes seeming to want to communicate something. Would she be disappointed, too? Would she lament the fact that she no longer had an excuse to sleep next to him?
"That’s good," Sebastian remarked whilst idly stirring more honey into his breakfast.
She hummed in assent, never taking her eyes off him.
-
Not three days later, her presumption was proven false—her nightmares were far from finished tormenting her. She slid into his bed once again, shaking slightly, whether from the cold, shock or fear he couldn't tell. He bundled her into his arms as soon as she hit the mattress, curling into a fetal position as he enveloped her back in a blanket of warmth and calm.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently.
"Yes, I'll be alright. It wasn't as bad as…"
She couldn't finish her sentence, instead lapsing into silence as Sebastian stroked her hair and the last of her sobs subsided. He knew the nightmares she had alluded to; he had them too, sometimes.
She drifted off to sleep quickly, leaving Sebastian once again in an internal struggle between giving into the temptation that roared behind his ribcage, a beast waiting to be sated, and the simple duty of respecting his dearest friend. He told himself that he was disgusting, depraved, a monster, but the words meant nothing as he gazed down at her sleeping form in the dim light, noticing the gentle swell of her breasts underneath her cotton chemise. Her nipple had slipped, tantalisingly close to being exposed by the smallest of shuffles. Once again, Sebastian rationalised his actions, downplaying their gravity—he simply wanted to hasten the inevitable.
Propped on his elbow as he leaned over her, he delicately peeled the fabric down, revealing her soft, pink nipple. Saliva pooled in the well of his mouth as his cock twitched against her perky cheeks, and Sebastian suppressed a groan that would surely wake her. Just a quick touch, then he'd stop. His thumb brushed her nipple, her body responding even in unconsciousness as it formed a stiff peak at his touch. Fuck, he wanted to take it into his mouth, swirl his tongue over that perfect little mound. The thought sent blood rushing away from his head—and whatever part of his brain that was responsible for his self restraint—and straight to his cock.
Sebastian slid a hand under the chemise to gently cup her breast, her flesh perfectly filling his palm. His dark eyes flickered shut as he felt the weight, brushed the silken skin and gently pinched her nipple. Perfect. He was impossibly aroused now, his cock swelling at an alarming rate in his pyjama trousers. The only relief lay in her warm body nestled against him, and the temptation was simply too strong. His eyes opened again to watch her face, for any indication that she was waking as he rolled his hips into her backside.
She was so fucking soft. Her perfect arse moulding around his erection like it was meant for him. Still she slept as he palmed her breast, growing bolder every second with a firmer grip and a harder push of his hips. He wanted to moan into her ear, tell her she was such a good girl, but of course he couldn't; his game was one of stealth and silence. He couldn't stop his heavy breath or involuntary hitches as he grinded gently against her, but it soon became apparent that this gentle caress wouldn't be enough to rid him of his painfully throbbing desire.
Sebastian shuffled back slightly, taking the arm trapped under his body and wrapping his hand around his length with a shudder, whilst his other stayed firmly glued to her breast. He massaged her in rhythm to the strokes he gave his cock, his orgasm building so quickly from just how fucking wrong this was. Still he pumped himself, smearing the slick that dribbled from the tip down his entire length, filling the canopy with wet slapping sounds that were far too loud—but he couldn't stop, he was so close. He looked down at her face once more, eyes fixed on those plump lips so ready for the taking, and she moaned. A gentle sound, almost a breath, as she shuffled on the mattress slightly, bringing her knee higher and face pressed into the pillow.
No, Sebastian couldn't stop the inevitable, not even if he'd tried, which he didn't. He shot his load all over her clothed back, fucking his hand furiously as cum spurted in thick ropes across her pretty cotton chemise. His head was spinning, barely able to breathe from the intensity of his release. It was fucking incredible. It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours as he gasped quietly through the pleasure, but eventually he was empty, oversensitive and completely spent. He slumped back on the pillow, looking down at the mess he'd made of his hand and the sheet beneath them, his post-orgasm clarity ruining the perfect moment.
Shit. He removed his hand gently from her breast, pulling the top up to cover her still stiff nipple and groped around outside of the curtain for his wand, trying not to move too much. After an agonising few seconds of patting his nightstand, he finally found it, casting a non-verbal cleaning charm to vanish the soaking mess. It wasn't quite perfect, but he daren't utter the incantation aloud. This was his bed, as such, the slightly crusted layer on his sheet wasn't too much of a problem, but the same couldn't be said of her pyjamas. As she started to stir and the light began filtering through the gap she'd made in the curtain, Sebastian hoped against all odds that she wouldn't notice his shame smeared across her back.
-
Sebastian watched her over breakfast for any indication that she knew what he'd done, but she was apparently none the wiser, her usual self. He thought she may have lingered a little longer on his eyes as she looked at him that morning, her face a tad more flushed than usual, but she said nothing. If she had known, she had decided to allow it, which made Sebastian all the more bolder.
Night after night, she told him her nightmares had returned, though he noted the absence of any tears after a while. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, or a desperate need to justify his actions by telling himself that she wanted this, but he had almost convinced himself that it was true. He'd held back from doing what he really wanted, from truly claiming her whilst she slept, but his apprehension was melting away with every night she willingly found herself in his bed.
"Are you okay?" he asked once again as she lay curled up in his arms.
"Yeah. I'm better now."
Better with me.
She offered herself so willingly, such that the flickering flame of guilt was extinguished the moment her soft snores met his ears. Too beautiful to resist, and so responsive to his touch. His breath ghosted her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps prickling her flesh. Over her shoulder his gaze roamed and his fingers followed, the featherlight touch he employed barely registering to her nerves.
Sebastian’s ear was pricked for any variation in her breathing as he delved under her top, this time a less attractive buttoned shirt; but no matter, it was what lay underneath that counted. His hands provided and her body responded just as he’d hoped. This, he was used to now. This, was safe. He could caress her breasts and barely satisfy himself with his hand, but the allure of what lay next to his throbbing length was what kept him awake even on the nights he spent alone.
He dared to go further even as the bile rose in his throat, planting a kiss on her neck whilst his eyes stayed fixed on her peacefully resting visage. Illuminated by the strip of moonlight cascading through the gently rippling waters, she looked almost ethereal. There could be no snarky comments or irritating little habits; in stillness and silence she was captivating, absolutely perfect.
Another kiss, and another, until his brain was no longer capable of rational thought amongst the onslaught of hormones, and he licked the skin at the crook of her neck. Not a tentative dab with the tip of his tongue but a thick, wet stripe. She tasted of the tang of her perfume and partially of the sweat brought on by her night terrors; so enticingly forbidden. There was no stopping now—he was bordering on crazed, his mind addled with lust and a reckless disregard for any consequences.
His hand slid down her clothed back as he ignored his straining erection; there would be time for that soon. With gentle tugs, he worked on shimmying her pyjama trousers down, the soft skin of her cheeks that brushed his knuckles sending his head spinning. Faster he moved until she was exposed to him, and he took a moment to drink in the soft curves before cupping her behind with both hands.
What he wouldn’t give to dig his fingertips into her flesh, to leave bruises and indents along her hips. His fingers flexed involuntarily at the thought, barely pulling himself back before he acted on the impulse. He needed to be gentle, just like the steady breaths she continued to exhale. His hand glided down, slipping between her thighs where he was greeted by her slick entrance.
Sebastian could have spilled just then, messing his pyjamas from simply feeling her arousal. He took a deep breath as his middle finger gently stroked his prize before slowly pressing inside her. She had no reaction, none whatsoever—both reassuring and deeply disappointing. He was up to his knuckle, teasing her open with strokes of his finger. In the near-silence every squelch was audible, and deliciously obscene.
"So fucking wet for me," he whispered, barely audibly.
She shuddered, and Sebastian flinched and stilled his hand as his heart almost leapt out of his chest. That had been a sudden reaction to his words, not his slow and steady movements. He waited, but her eyes stayed shut and breath remained steady as she appeared to sleep on. Resuming his rhythm, he had the sneaking suspicion that she was at least partially lucid. She was letting this happen.
He slipped another finger inside her, growing steadily more reckless as he felt himself lose control over his desire. The minutes spent preparing her felt like an eternity, but once he was finally satisfied she could handle him, Sebastian was barely holding it together. As his hand wrapped around his cock to guide his way, a tiny moan fell from his lips before he could stop himself. Still she didn't stir, an invitation to continue.
He pressed his head against her dripping entrance and pushed, stopping as just the tip was enveloped in her warmth. So fucking perfect. All Sebastian could think of was filling her up completely, letting her drip his seed onto the sheets as she slept on, completely oblivious. The thought was almost enough to end him, and he willed himself to move, screwing his eyes shut in some pathetic attempt to delay his release.
He was doomed as soon as she began to stir at the first thrust. He moved slowly, gently, but he hit her deep, and those soft, rhythmic breaths became quicker and uneven. And then she moaned. Not a breathy sigh but an exclamation of pleasure that his roommates would no doubt have heard. He wished then that he could delve into her thoughts, to see what her unconscious mind had conjured in response to his intrusion. He was sure that he would see himself, pleasuring her as he did now.
"I'm so fucking close, please let me come," Sebastian whispered in her ear.
He didn't expect a response, at least not a lucid one—even if she'd given him one, he was too far gone to have processed it. The flutter of her walls around his cock was almost too much, and a confirmation that she was enjoying this just as much as he was. Every heavy breath against her neck and every shunt across the mattress brought her further out of her deep sleep. At that point, Sebastian cared very little about what might happen if she did wake, clinging to the belief that she would welcome his advances with open arms.
"Oh…wha-…?"
A confused and hoarse whisper escaped her throat, her eyes still glued shut.
Fuck.
"Do you want me to stop?"
Please say no.
"Don't…don't stop…"
Sebastian willed himself to last just a little longer, not merely seeking his own gratification but determined to have her fall apart by his touch.
"Come on, beautiful…," he encouraged with the smallest whispers.
She was so tight, her muscles gripping his cock as her abdomen clenched under his palm before she reached her climax. She writhed against him with heavy breaths and involuntary moans, the pulsing around his length enough to tip him over the edge with her. Sebastian groaned as he stilled, allowing the grip of her slick cunt to tease every drop of cum from him. The light was too dim to see clearly, but his finger found where they joined and his vision faded to black at the utter euphoria of the feel of his seed dripping from her.
Once the ringing in his ears subsided and he propped himself up on his elbow, he'd half expected her to greet him with a dozy smile, but her eyes were screwed tightly shut. Her body still twitched against him, but her breath was slowing once again, her limbs limp against the mattress. She was still asleep, and whatever words she'd uttered had been a product of her unconcious mind.
Shame washed over him once more, tempered by the knowledge that she'd been dreaming of him. He'd told himself this was the last time, now he'd been satisfied, though she looked even more angelic now that he'd had his way with her—she had a slight sheen of sweat across her deeply blushing skin that glistened tantalisingly in the light from the celestial bodies. Reining in the desire to taste her again, he let her rest, performing his cleanup ritual in silence. His spells were much more effective now, though he hesitated when he pointed his wand at the pool of cum dripping from her violated cunt. He rubbed his fingers into the damp fabric, carving the memory into his brain before it vanished.
Sebastian slept soundly that night, holding her tightly as he waited eagerly for morning.
-
She looked positively elated, if slightly abashed, and Sebastian knew why. She must remember the dream, the mind-blowing orgasm he'd given her—he could practically feel the heat coming off of her.
"What's got you smiling this morning?" Sebastian asked over the breakfast table.
"I had a strange dream, that's all," she said, barely suppressing a smirk as a blush crossed her cheeks.
"Oh? What about?"
She lowered her voice to barely a whisper, casting furtive glances around the table for anyone listening in.
"It was quite scandalous..."
Sebastian looked up at her from his dipped head with a knowing smirk, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
"Yeah? And who, pray tell, did this dream involve?"
"Garreth Weasley," she giggled.
The colour drained from Sebastian's face and a burning rage coursed through his veins. His mouth formed a hard line as he looked back down at the table and hoped she hadn't noticed his reaction. Oh, last night wouldn't be the last time, not by a fucking long shot—Sebastian's pride wouldn't allow it. He would have her dreams reflecting reality, until she moaned his name in her slumber.
#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow fanfiction#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow smut#sallow sunday
666 notes
·
View notes
Text
ink-stained hands.
fred weasley x fem!reader
warnings: the readers house isn't specified, and the term princess is used once.
Fred Weasley the ever-charming never-flailing flirt. Always popular around the girls, always having that annoyingly cocky smirk on his face, him and his infuriatingly pretty smile and knee-shaking height. you on the other hand were the girl always writing, always a roll of parchment and ink bottle evident in your hands.
Unbeknownst to you the redhead had a tiny crush on you, "it's microscopical George!" he would defend himself, he just wanted to know why your hands were always filled with books or parchment and as if evidence of them being in your hands prior, ink stains. Whether you acknowledged it or not, when you were in the room the older twin's eyes were always set on you, If it was in curiosity or admiration was unknown to him as well. You just had an aura to you, one that drew him in a way he couldn't explain.
You of course always had seen the redhead and his twin around the school, you saw them yelling in joy after a quidditch game or just after a good prank. A small attraction may have sparked towards the boy but you always swept it under the rug knowing it wouldn't lead anywhere anyway, If only you knew how wrong you were.
No matter how many teasing looks from his friends when you were in the room, it was not enough for the boy to get over his initial nerves to talk to you. but after one extraordinarily good game of quidditch here he was, adrenaline rushing through his veins, in front of your dorm room waiting for you to open the door.
You open the door perplexed, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape “Uh- Fred Weasley, right?” you ask. “Uh yeah, look- listen I see how weird this probably is and I honestly Merlin don't know how else to put this except that you're really pretty and for some reason, you're always distracted writing something or another and it's so infuriatingly attractive how you don't notice anything I do, no matter how I hard I try to get your attention and I think it's adorable how your hands are always stained with the ink you use and how you always have something smart to say in class and how absolutely funny your sarcastic replies are and honestly? I just reallyreallyfancyyou” he spits, chest heaving from the whirlwind of words, saying the last part all in one go.
You look at him eyes fully open, you haven't quite fully processed what the redhead said, after a moment you slowly, quietly question “You fancy..me?” you say your left hand pointing to him then yourself. “Um yeah? is that okay?” he questions his resolve melting slightly with your extended reaction time. “That is more than okay, that is great if u ask me, I would totally love to be liked by you because I totally maybe kinda fancy you too?” you say voice going quiet by the end of the sentence.
By the end of your sentence, you look up to see Fred with a completely cocky smile and his usual confident front back “You fancy me too? How perfect, care to tell me how exactly I caught your eye over a cup of butterbeer this weekend?” the boy is full on leaning on your door frame at this point, quidditch robes still on and quite honestly looked hot right now. “How can I say no to that,” you said smiling up at him. “I'll see you this weekend for the date. and tomorrow for breakfast too? Or will I see you at the after-game party tonight?” he asked joy glazing his features due to your acceptance of the date.
You gave yourself a once over in your pyjamas and messy hair and then shifted your eyes up at him eyes squinted and mouth in a straight line, “Yeah about that, I don't think I'm in the prettiest state right now.” humour evident in your voice, “I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow and definitely for that cup of butterbeer” “Yeah I'll see you tomorrow y/n” he says smiling and looking at you head to toe, checking you out quite openly.
A voice hauntingly similar to Fred's twin is heard calling for Fred to come to the common room, and party full-on rage as the loud music is deafening. “You better get going then yeah? people are waiting for you” you smile beckoning him to go, “yeah I should,” he pauses looking you in the eye “I think you look pretty damn cute, even in your pj's princess” the endearing term whispered leaving you with a slight blush dusting your features, and he was gone before you could reply.
With a shake of your head and an airy laugh, you close the door and go to bed with an ever-present smile just to not sleep most of the night, going over the earlier events that had unfolded seemed to keep you up. Smile still gracing your features as you went to breakfast the next morning, and if you put a little extra effort into your hair and makeup just to have it all messed up in the room of requirement by a certain redhead, no one had to know.
#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley x you#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley#fred weasley x fem!reader#fred weasley fanfiction#weasley twins#weasley twins fanfiction#harry potter fanfiction
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tom Riddle x reader - The bet.
Modernish? Au? one of those -son of Voldemort Tom's that has Mattheo as a brother n stuffs like that-none of thats important to the fic i just wanted to put that up so them having phones makes sense, also they have charmed phones so they work within hogwarts. :p
starts off with texts messages --(two dashes) with italics for (y/n) and -(one dash) and bold for Tom.
=
It was a stupid bet, one that Tom was already regretting even thought it hadn't started yet. it all started with his girlfriend (y/n) being cheeky while she was supposed to be in class and asking for a bloody abs picture from him while he was trying to study.
--hey tommy~?
Tom didn't know why he didn't put on the 'do not disturb' feature on when he was studying, because (y/n) always bugged him when he studied. he picked up his phone that had vibrated when he got a text and saw what his girlfriend texted him, he quickly sent a reply back and then set his phone back down.
-What is it this time (y/n)?
-Did you get detention, again?
-I'm not getting you out of it this time.
(y/n) replied quickly, which told Tom she wasnt paying attention at all while she was supposed to be in charms class.
--nooo that was one time tommy
--okay maybe two times
--okay three....five times
--whatevs thats not what im texting u for
--do you think you could to me a favors? ill return it?
Now Tom was, slightly(emphasis on slightly) intrigued, sighing as he picked his phone back up after reading the texts as they came in and messing (y/n) back.
-What is it (y/n)?
(y/n) replied almost instantly, which made Tom annoyed because merlin's beard she was in class!!
--ab pic? plssss???
-...Are you actually serious?? Did you just text me to ask me for an ab picture?
--yes. pls? ill send something back? pls? pls pls pls? all the other girls get ab pics from their boys? and you've got a baaaady bb~
-No.
--plsss?
-(y/n) I'm busy.
--does that mean 'im busy so ill send one later' orrrrr
-(y/n).
--Tommy.
Tom sighed, setting his phone down, willing himself back to studying, but curiosity had him picking his phone back up and typing a response.
-Why do you even want an ab pic?
--cuz
-That's not an answer (y/n).
--plllllllls tommy? ill send you something back i stg
Tom's interest was once again piqued, his brow raising. she would...send something back?
-And I'm supposed to take your word for that?
-bet
Tom scrambled to catch his phone when another message was sent from his girlfriend, except it wasn't a text, it was a photo. Of her in nothing but his jumper, sitting in front of mirror, the jumper pulled up above her chest to show off her body that got him feeling feral, her face just barely obscured in the photo-but he could see her tantalizing smirk that always had him going nuts.
He quickly got a handle on his phone and texted (y/n) back with a clench in his jaw.
-CHRIST (y/n)!!!
-You're in class!!!
--and you, aren't~!
--enjoy bb~ now about that ab pic?
He was blushing for sure, his face hot and red and he felt his trousers get tight. He shuffled in his seat, running his hand through his hair. He thought about it for a hot moment before he groaned and stood up, going into his bathroom and turning the light on.
He texted (y/n) one last time before pulling his button-up off and snapping a picture of his upper body. He wasn't really built like Draco or his brother Mattheo was, he wasn't a quidditch player, but he did have defined muscles and (y/n) liked them, so that was fine.
-ffs fine.
-photo sent.
-Happy?
--👀👀🥵😍💞🥰👌👌👌👌👌👌
Tom let out a soft snort, leaning against the wall of his bathroom, holding his shirt in his hand as he looked down at (y/n)'s message. Yep, she was happy. he looked back at the photo she had sent him and swallowed, the flush in his face returning as a spark went down his spine, looking at the way her chest was pushed out, her breasts soft and round and such a perfect size for him. her thighs looked bloody gorgeous as well, he wanted to sink his teeth into them again, seeing in the picture some of his previous marks on her skin.
"Fuck," Tom muttered, his head hitting the wall as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, his hand falling to smack against his thigh. This girl was going to be the death of him.
he got another message and if he wasn't already flustered, he sure was now because he pulled his phone up so quick. yeah-(y/n) was going to be the death of him.
--thnk u bb~ i can just imagine ur face rn, all red n flustered~
--🥰😂
Tom huffed, rolling his eyes, throwing his shirt onto the sink counter and messaging his girlfriend back(honestly how he had even gotten one was a mystery to not just him, but to all his little 'friend' group.)
-You're a menace.
-Your imagination does too many favors for you.
i mean, she was right-his face was all flushed and he definitely was flustered, plus he had a bloody hard on thanks to that hoodie picture; but did she need to know that? Nope.
--oh LOADS
--like imagining what you would sound like whimpering for me
--thats always a good daydream for me 😈🥵🤪
Tom flushed again, puffing his cheeks too. Whimper? Him? Never.
-I Don't whimper. Not for anyone.
-Not even you.
Tom huffed through his nose, his cheeks flushing still as his own imagination began to wander off. but he was brought back to reality when he got another message from (y/n).
--wanna bet? 😈
Oh Fuck.
"Fuck," Tom muttered under his breath, ignoring the way his fingers twitched for a moment as he thought of a response. She was riling up intentionally, he knew that, she wanted to see what he would do-how he would respond to her challenge.
-Menace.
--scared Riddle?
-Don't do the fucking 'scared potter' thing on me.
--its working isnt it? i know how you tick bb~ ur just scared i'll make u whimper and i'll make you lose control~
-Shut the fuck up.
--oh swearing now are we? you are flustered
He was, his face was red now and his leg was bouncing, somehow even harder imagining (y/n) doing her absolute best to make him whimper.
--so
--wanna bet?
Tom took a long deep breath, running his hand through his hand and then down his face. would he regret this? probably.
Fuck it.
-fine. you're on. what do you wanna bet?
he could feel the feral grin through the phone screen.
--i get five minutes to try and make you whimper, i can do whatever i need to do, if you dont whimper-moaning and other shit you usually do is fine im not cruel bb-in those five minutes you cannnnnn, idk, do whatever you want to me?
Now that was enticing.
-What do you get if you do make me whimper? Which wont happen of course.
--you gotta be REALLY vocal next time we do it. i wanna hear allll the sounds you can make, whimpers, moans, grunts, ANYTHING.
Tom flushed, really? All she wanted was for him to be a bit more...vocal during sex? weirdo.
-Weirdo.
--im UR weirdo.
Damn straight. Tom thought about it for a long moment and then groaned. Ffffine. fucking fine.
-Fine. Bet.
--BET!
Tom let out a long sigh, checking the time. it was still another half hour before (y/n) was done with classes for the day, but he suspected she was going to be heading straight to him as soon as she was done-when she was all excited like this-she wouldn't let go of her 'mission' until she got it done.
And this time-her mission was making him whimper. Well, he would make sure she wouldn't hear a single peep out of him this time.
He put his shirt back on and tucked it back into his pants, sighing when he saw he still had a hard on and simply ignored it, going back to his desk and going back to studying-he needed to get this done before (y/n) relentlessly distracted him later.
His timer went off exactly 30 minutes later and he sighed, pushing away from his desk, setting down his quill. Right on the dot-he got a text from (y/n) and he glanced at it with flushed ears.
--omw.
Yep. He knew it. He began mentally preparing himself for whatever sensual onslaught (y/n) had planned for him, crossing his leg over the other as stared at his almost finished essay, before he could think too much on it-the door to his room opened and in stepped in his girlfriend, looking positively giddy.
Oh boy, he was in trouble.
He stared at her as she locked the door behind her and walked right over to him, huffing a bit when she swung her leg over his lap and sat right down, her arms resting over his shoulder as she leaned in close, grinning like a cat that caught her prey.
"Ready to whimper for me baby?" (y/n) cooed and Tom rolled his eyes, uncrossing his arms and resting his hand's on her thighs.
"You wont hear a thing," Tom muttered, keeping his voice monotone and his eyes cold, but (y/n) could see the warmth they had for her, and only her. (y/n) grinned and got right to work, cradling his jaw in both hands and pressing her lips to hiss in a passionate and hungry kiss, quickly heating things up as her tongue licked his bottom lip and then pushed into his mouth.
Tom's breath caught in his chest for a split second, his eyes snapping closed as his grip on her thighs tightened, holding back a groan that wanted to escape as (y/n) practically devoured his lips. 'fuck' he thought, this was going to be harder than he thought.
(y/n) kept kissing him in a way that made him breathless and her hips began to grind down against him-making him gasp a bit as he felt her brush against his bulge that had quickly grown the moment (y/n) had stepped into the room. "(y/n)," Tom hissed quietly, his lips, swollen and shiny with spit, parted as (y/n) pulled away and went down to his jaw, nipping and kissing his skin.
She kept moving her hips down into his and he felt his resolve slowly start to crumble as her lips explored his neck, the sensation of her nibbling, biting down, and sucking all over his neck drove him nearly mad. He couldn't help but groan as he tilted his head back, exposing his neck for her.
(y/n) grinned against his neck, licking up the side and trying to find his sweet spot, anything to make him break. "Gonna whimper for me yet?" she asked sweetly, whispering into his ear and kissing the spot behind it.
"Not a chance." Tom said, every word a struggle to get out, his eyes still closed as (y/n) chuckled and went back to his neck, grazing her teeth and tongue against every spot she could-searching for that one spot that would make him break.
"Guess I'll hav'ta try harder then," she whispered, latching onto the slope of his neck where it met his shoulder as one of her hands went between them and Tom let out a choked groan, his face rising with heat as he heard and felt her undoing his belt and pulling his shirt out of his trousers.
"Don't you dare," Tom warned, but if only so he didn't lose this bet. He knew if (y/n) started touching him, his resistance would quickly fall. She was too good at this. (y/n) smirked against his neck and shimmied his trousers and boxers down-Tom's breath caught and his back arched a bit as (y/n)'s soft fingers wrapped around his aching cock, pre-cum leaking from the tip.
His hips jolted up and then back as her hand began to move, up and down the shaft of his cock, the feeling of her hand driving him mad as the sound of it made it harder to focus on not making those sounds (y/n) so desperately wanted to hear.
"(y/n)," he hissed out, his jaw dropping open as he panted, his breath shuddering with each stroke of his cock and graze of her teeth on his neck. He jolted again when she found the sweet spot on his neck and heat grew in his core as her teeth and tongue lavished that spot with attention while her hand stroked him with increasing intensity, making it harder and harder for him to keep his resolve.
(y/n) shuffled just a bit closer on his lap, his cock pressed against her clothed belly and adding more friction as she moved her hips with her hand, his pre-cum smearing against her skin and clothes.
Fuck.
Tom felt his control falter further as he felt (y/n)'s mouth and her hand work together over his neck and cock. His resolve was broken and he was lost in sensation. A single sound came forth before he could stop it, a hoarse whimper leaving his lips.
(y/n) grinned against his skin, kissing his sweet spot before she pulled back just a bit-her hand continuing to go as she rut her stomach against his cock-feeling him dripping helplessly against her hand and clothes, soaking her shirt in his fluids.
"aww baby, you whimpered," (y/n) cooed-and just then-the five minute timer (y/n) had sneakily set up went off-he had just missed the mark-if he had just lasted another few seconds, he would've won. but he had lost-(y/n) made him whimper.
"Sh-shut-" he let out another hoarse whimper, his breath catching as (y/n) pressed his cock against her belly. "Wh-whatever just-fuck-don't-mmfh- don't tell-tell, shit, tell anyone." Tom commanded, his vision blurry when he looked at (y/n), who was grinning like a bloody basilisk.
"Oh don't worry darling, this is for me and me alone." (y/n)purred, kissing him deeply again, her chest pressed against his as her hand practically fucked his cock, giving him just the right grip as more embarrassing sounds pushed forth from his throat, whimpering into (y/n)'s mouth as she kissed him.
He felt the heat in his core start to spread, his breath and heart going rapid as his head started to fog over with unrelenting pleasure. "shit-(y/n)-FUCK-don't stop-don't stop-don't stop-" Tom babbled as his eyes snapped shut, his head going back as well as (y/n) made out with his jaw and neck, leaving more and more marks on his pale skin as her hand kept going, and going, and going, faster and faster, squeezing a bit whenever she got to the tip-pushing more pre-cum from him until-
Tom's muscles tensed, He gripped the plush of (y/n)'s thighs, his teeth clenching as he felt a tingling throughout his body. His eyes remained shut, although he could still see the world around him somehow.
Then, an intense feeling of warmth started at his core and spread out throughout his entire body. His muscles trembled and shook as he felt pleasure like he hadn't felt before.
A deep moan escaped his lips.
Cum soaked (y/n)'s hand and shirt, some arching over and landing on Tom's belly and thighs while (y/n) began to slowly calm down, her eyes locked onto Tom's bright red face as he let out those little sounds she had been so patiently waiting to hear from him.
"Ahhn, hahh-fuckin hell-" Tom groaned, shuddering as his orgasm washed over him. He whimpered a bit when (y/n)'s hand slightly pushed him into 'too much' territory and he shakily grabbed her wrist that was slick with his cum. "Fuck." he sighed, his body slumping in his desk chair as (y/n) sat triumphantly on his lap, giggling away while he caught his breath.
When his vision finally cleared and he caught his breath, he saw his all too proud of herself girlfriend grinning at him, cum soaking her shirt and her hand covered in it as well, his softened cock just inches away from her hand.
"I hate you," Tom grumbled, his eyes fluttering closed when (y/n) laughed and pecked his lips.
"No you don't~ also i knew you'd sound adorable whimpering, wanna do it for me again?"
...
"Yeah,"
-end-
#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle imagine#tom riddle#smut fic#pictures included#well one picture included lol#you dont know how long i spent looking for a picture that actually suited how i think Tom's body looks#we all know he's gotta twink body dont deny it#he skinny~#lanky#but he can have some muscle definition#as a gift#besides this tecincally is Tom the 3rd and not Tom jr aka voldemort#Tom the 3rd can be more built than his dad lol#half text message fic half smut fic half normal fic#anyways enjoy~#i had too much fun#emoji's included
224 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 | tom riddle
tom riddle x f!reader
4,488 words
warnings: smut. angst. allusions to murder. horcruxes.
notes: takes place in 1946, around a year after graduating from hogwarts.
summary: there has always been darkness in tom riddle. perhaps you were too blind to see it before. or maybe you’ve known all along, but never acknowledged it until it was too late.
“Tom! I… fuck! I… I love you!”
Tears streamed down the sides of her face and pooled on the pillow below as Tom gripped her hip with one hand and her shoulder with the other. His pace was brutal, inhumane almost and it made the headboard slam against the beige wall, her fingers grasping the sheets between them to anchor herself. Her cunt clenched and her walls tightened around him as she came for the second time already, and she sobbed into the pillow, bittersweet pleasure surging through her.
Tom groaned at her words, tugging her back against him by the grip he had on her hair, his lips right beside her ear. “Say it again,” he muttered, and she panted, chasing air back into her lungs. “Tell me you love me again.”
“I… I love you! I love you, I love you, iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou!”
With something not unlike a growl emitting from his lips, he pushed her back down into the mattress and grabbed both of her hips, throwing his head back when she tightened around him again. He could feel his rage as it began to slip away, all the things that have been on his mind all day slowly melting away, and all he could think about was her and how good she felt. All he wanted right now was to come, to unravel and release himself to her.
But a small voice in the back of his head made all his anger surge back into him all at once, and he seemed to pick up his pace again, as if he were digging another orgasm out of her.
“I’m sorry, Tom. But you are only eighteen. Much too young to be a professor if you ask me. But, if you are still up for it, come back to me in a few years time. After all, I’ve never seen a student more exceptional at Defense Against the Dark Arts than you.”
Tom narrowed his eyes at the small of her back as he fucked into her harder, as if it were even possible. He fucked her like he hated her, fucked her like she was his outlet and in a way, she was. Tom couldn’t even begin to describe the day he’d had, not until he did something with all this anger bubbling up inside of him, ready to pop.
And when it did, she was there for him, and she willingly offered herself up for him to take all his frustrations out on.
When she came for the third time around his cock, he knew that he was close, that the end of his fury was near. All he had to do was chase it, so he thrusted deeper, reaching the spongy spot deep inside of her that had her seeing stars. “Tom!” She screamed, muffled by the pillow. “It feels… oh Merlin, it feels so good.”
Low grunts emitted from behind Tom’s closed lips as he thrusted again and again and again and again until finally he reached his end, and he fell over on top of her as she cried, and he buried his face into the crook of her neck.
“Tom…” she whined as he circled his hips, and he shushed her, pressing kisses to the shell of her ear. “Shhh, quiet,” he whispered as he pulled himself out of her, sliding into the spot on the mattress beside her. He watched as she writhed, and he circled an arm around her, pulling her into his side. She sniffled as she nestled into his chest, resting a hand on his stomach as his fingernails absentmindedly traced patterns between her shoulder blades.
A silence fell over them like a warm blanket, and she thought that she never felt so safe, and with Tom touching her so tenderly, she felt the most loved she’d ever been. Tom turned to press his lips against the crown of her head, and she blinked up at him, tears long gone from her eyes but their remnants made her cheeks swollen and sticky.
Tom couldn’t help but admire his view.
“Are you feeling better?” She asked, and he hummed in reply, nodding and fluttering his eyelids closed. She rubbed her cheek against his chest, contemplating whether to question him further. “What happened today?” She couldn’t suppress the urge to ask, and he sighed, rubbing his brow with the pads of his fingers on his opposite hand.
Although most of his anger had subsided, it seemed to only make leeway for hate, hate for everything. He hated Hogwarts, the only home he had ever truly had, he hated Defense Against the Dark Arts, he hated Professor Dippet, the Headmaster who had turned him down for the job Tom so desperately desired. He hated everything, he hated anything he could.
But not her. Not the woman laying with him. He could never hate her.
She was the only thing he could bring himself not to hate in this moment. Hate could have fully taken the reign of his heart, but there would always be a small piece of it that loved her, that would always love her. She was the only thing he had ever learned to love.
Which was why it was so easy to tell her everything, to share all his frustrations, his annoyances, anything. She was always there to offer an ear to listen, a body he could lie on, someone he could love.
“Dippet turned me down for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job,” he admitted. “Said I am too young.” He left out the part where he jinxed the job so that no one would ever be able to keep it for too long. Except for him. So when Professor Dippet finally came to his senses and gave him the job, he’d know he was a fool for ever rejecting him in the first place.
Unfortunately, it would just take time.
But Tom Riddle was not a patient man.
“Oh darling,” she murmured, nestling closer into him, nudging her nose against the underside of his jaw. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as she pressed kisses to his skin. Tom said nothing as she melted into him like candle wax until they were one. The silence was back to pull them in like warmth on a cold winter's day, and eventually, the woman in his arms fell into the depths of slumber, her soft breath like early morning dew on his skin.
But Tom stayed awake.
He laid there staring up into the ceiling, sinking further and further into the mattress. His mind shifted from the woman sleeping soundly in his arms to the woman who had come into his place of work just the day before. Hepzibah Smith, a foolish woman she was to reveal to a complete stranger that she was a direct descendant of Helga Hufflepuff herself.
Another foolish mistake was to reveal to the handsome clerk at Borgin and Burkes that she had come into possession of Helga Hufflepuff’s cup and Salazar Slytherin’s locket. Of course, Hepzibah Smith couldn’t have anticipated who the handsome clerk at Borgin and Burkes really was. She couldn’t have known what was going on inside of his mind, couldn’t have known how strong the storm swirled inside of him, couldn’t have known that she had fallen into his plan like a trap, couldn’t have known how close he was to snapping.
Tom Riddle was inevitable.
And he was coming.
And poor old Hepzibah Smith would have no idea what hit her.
The next morning, she stirred awake to find that the bed was empty where Tom would usually be. She moaned and rubbed her closed eyelids with her knuckles, her lips falling agape as she yawned. She sighed and sunk back into the mattress, staring up at the ceiling as she blinked the sleepiness away from her eyes. She guessed Tom must’ve left for work already, much to her dismay.
She allowed herself to lay in bed for just a few more minutes before she heaved herself off of the mattress, shivering when the cool air hit her naked skin. She padded over to the wardrobe and dressed herself in a pale blue dress, settling herself down onto her vanity stool as she wrapped a bow around her waist and tied it behind her back, soothing down the wrinkles of her skirt. She winced as she worked a brush through her hair, and when she was done, her eyes fell upon a necklace laid carefully on the edge of the vanity.
She picked the locket up and the phantom of a smile curved her lips as she rubbed the pad of her thumb over the deep blue pendant. It was a gift from Tom, given to her just after they had graduated from Hogwarts. He said he had seen it in a shop in Diagon Alley before the year had started, and the moment he had set eyes on it, he knew that it would look dashing on her.
She felt warm at the memory, like she’d been kissed by the sun itself. She reached behind her neck to fasten the chain and let the deep blue pendant rest just above her chest before she rose from her seat, making her way down the steps of their home.
She could see no sign that he had touched anything before he had left for work, even all the food in the kitchen seemed to be in the place they were the night before. She scowled at this as she toasted a piece of bread, wondering if Tom had even eaten at all before leaving. He’d often forget to take care of himself in favor of getting work done, which was an awfully annoying habit of his. She’d constantly scold him for it, but he’d do nothing to change it.
She sighed as she took a bite of her toast.
She glanced outside the kitchen window as the morning sun peeked through the thin, yellow curtains on either side of it. It was a beautiful day, and the sun seemed to smile down on the small town of Hogsmeade, basking the village in its warmth. It’d be a perfect day for a stroll around town.
She dusted her hands off on a handkerchief and grabbed her small coin purse before making her way over to the front door, swinging it wide open and welcoming the fresh morning air into her lungs. She closed the door behind her and smiled at the next door neighbors, an elderly couple that at times (much like the night before) she was grateful hadn’t the greatest hearing.
“Good morning Mr and Mrs Barnable!” She beamed and waved at the couple where they sat on two wooden chairs just outside their home, and they exchanged bright smiles with the young woman passing by, waving their fingers. “Morning, miss!” The elderly woman said as she tended to the scarf she was knitting in her lap.
She turned back to face the road ahead of her, grinning and waving at anyone she passed by. She could hear a soft meow from the valley to the right where a small tabby cat sat, and when she kneeled and beckoned it forth, it came trotting up towards her, butting its head into her palm.
“Good morning to you too, Miss Kitty,” she chuckled before eventually rising from where she had knelt, making her way further down the street. It wasn’t until she reached Tomes and Scrolls that she stopped, pushing the door open in front of her and stepping inside.
“Ah! Good morning miss!” The current owner, Alan Brown, greeted her as she smiled, nodding her head in acknowledgement. “Good morning Mr Brown,” she said, turning to search the shelves of books lining the walls.
“Is there anything in particular you are looking for today, miss?” He asked as she dragged the tips of her fingers along the spines of the books, searching for any title that stood out to her. “I’m not yet sure,” she admitted, “do you have any recommendations?”
Alan Brown pursed his lips as he walked around the counter and past where she stood, and her eyes followed as he searched through the bookshelves before finally seemingly finding what he had been looking for.
“Now, I’m not sure if you’ve read this one already or not,” he began, passing the green hardcover into her hands. “But it is one of my favorites. It’s about a wizard who goes on a long and strenuous adventure in search of his soulmate. The author has such a way with words.” She smiled as she gazed down at the book, and she thumbed through the pages, deciding that Alan’s summary had piqued her interest. “Well, I suppose you’ve sold me,” she giggled, tucking the book beneath her arm and digging through her coin purse before passing him a few sickles.
“Thank you,” Alan Brown bowed his head in thanks, “and do let me know when you are finished with it. I’d love to hear your thoughts.” She smiled, “of course. I’m sure any book you recommend is certain to be a good one.”
And when she stepped outside of the small bookshop, Tom Riddle was stepping outside of Hepzibah Smith’s home some miles away, Helga Hufflepuff’s cup— his second Horcrux— and Salazar Slytherin’s locket tucked safely away in his knapsack.
He looked both ways before padding his way down the street, and a part of him wondered how long it would take for someone to notice that Hepzibah Smith hasn’t been sticking her big nose in everyone’s business in awhile. He wondered how long it’d take for them to find her, and a part of him already felt a twitch of amusement when they’d attempt to find whoever killed her to only come up with nothing.
Fools, he thought they all were. Hepzibah Smith, the Ministry of Magic, all of them. They were nothing more than mere fools.
Lucky for him.
Tom glanced around the empty street one last time before Disapparating and in mere seconds, he was back in the little town streets of Hogsmeade, his home just up ahead. It was still early in the morning, early enough that she should still be home.
He opened the door to their home and looked around, but she was nowhere to be found. He made his way up the steps and into their bedroom but still, she wasn’t there.
He knew he couldn’t expect her to be at home all day, but still, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed to come home to an empty house, wishing nothing more than for her to be there. He found himself longing for her again, longing for her touch, her hair, her lips, her skin. She was the only thing he could turn to for comfort, for she was the only one he felt comfortable around, the only one he had brought himself to trust.
He trudged back down the stairs a little dispirited, but just as he was about to make his way over to the armchair in the corner of the living room, the front door swung open, and there she came walking in, a soft smile spread on her face. She blinked up at him when she noticed him in the middle of the living room, and she set her new hardcover book on the dining table as well as her coin purse, her grin widening.
“Oh! When did you get home, Tom?” She asked, striding up towards him and rolling onto the tips of her toes to wrap her arms around his neck, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Just now,” he replied simply, his hands on either of her hips as she pulled away. She furrowed her eyebrows, tilting her head. “I thought you must’ve been at work. Where were you?” She asked, and she watched the way Tom’s lips curled into a small grin.
There was almost something… off about the way he smiled.
“You’ll never believe what I’ve acquired today,” he said, reaching into his knapsack and retrieving both the cup and the locket. She looked at them for a moment before glancing back up at him, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Tom. I’m afraid I do not understand…”
“This,” he shook the cup in his right hand. “Is Helga Hufflepuff’s cup.”
She blinked once, twice, thrice. She stepped closer and looked down at the cup in his hand, her fingers soft against the golden Hufflepuff badger, uncertain. “Is it… is it real?” She asked, still unsure what to make of this. He nodded, “one hundred percent authentic.” He held up the locket in his opposite hand, “and this, my darling, is Salazar Slytherin’s locket.”
She eyed the green serpent in the middle of the locket, but didn’t dare touch it. She withdrew her hands away from the Hufflepuff cup, shaking her head. “But… Tom, how could you afford all this? We haven’t any money…” she trailed off as he carefully placed the Horcrux and the locket back into his bag. Her eyes followed his hands as they reached to cup either side of her face, and he gazed down at her with those strangely dark eyes, somehow darker, murkier than ever.
She was the only one who could read Tom Riddle. But right now, she hadn’t even the slightest clue what he was thinking, what was going on inside the strangely beautiful yet mysterious mind of Tom Riddle.
“You needn’t worry about that, my love,” he murmured, the pads of his thumbs soothing over either of her cheeks. “You needn’t worry about anything at all,” he whispered against her lips before drawing her in for a kiss, and she watched as his eyelids fluttered closed. Instinctively, she reciprocated the kiss, and she allowed Tom to do whatever he pleased.
But she couldn’t stop the storm raging inside of her head even as his kisses trailed down her neck, past the deep blue pendant around it, and to her collarbone where he sucked marks into her skin, his fingers unraveling the bow she had tied so delicately behind her back mere hours before.
She couldn’t help but worry over how cryptic he was being, and she wondered if she’d ever know the whole truth. She wondered where he was just before he came home, when she presumed he was at work. Surely nobody came and donated such ancient and magical items to Borgin and Burkes without a high price— but of course, she didn’t know much about the shop that Tom worked at in the first place.
Her pale blue dress was being slipped down her arms as Tom’s kisses ventured down to her breasts, and she clutched at his shoulders, squeezing her eyes closed when he took one of her nipples in his mouth. Something was wrong, terribly wrong and she could feel it. But she could worry about it later. She couldn’t bring herself to worry over it anymore, not when Tom made her feel this good.
So she let him lead her up the stairs and into their bedroom, let him lay her down gently on the bed, let him tug her dress down her legs and completely off her body. Her heart thud against her chest as she watched him undress himself, unbuttoning his black shirt, sliding his grey trousers down his legs, slipping his feet out of his noir leather shoes. She let him trail kisses all the way from the tops of her feet, up her legs, to the inside of her thighs and all the way to her center where her slick trailed down her slit, unbeknownst to her until he pressed his tongue flat against her, lapping it up.
Her toes curled in and she threw her head back against the pillow as Tom toyed her clit with his tongue, gazing up at her through hooded lids. He gave her pearl a long and thorough suck before trailing kisses back up her belly, between the valley of her breasts, up her neck, once again past the pendant on her throat, and creeping up her chin until he reached her lips again. He cradled her head with one of his palms and her eyes fluttered open to meet his, and he thought that this was when he felt most at home.
But even he knew that this couldn’t last forever.
In fact, it was only a couple of months later that Tom decided what he must do.
His heart trembled in his chest as he listened to her sobs whilst he packed his few belongings in his briefcase, and when he slammed it shut, he gazed up at her as he locked it. She, who was once always smiling, whose eyes used to always sparkle even in the darkest hour, now only cried, her eyes bleary and begging him to stay.
“Please don’t do this, Tom,” she managed to speak between sobs, her voice wavering and meek, on the verge of breaking. She gathered either of his hands between hers and she squeezed, she squeezed so hard because she knew that this was her one chance to be his anchor, to anchor him here so that he may stay here forever with her. “You can’t… I don’t want you to…” she shook her head, frustrated with herself and him and absolutely everything. “Please don’t leave.”
She didn’t understand, she couldn’t understand. Nothing could have ever prepared her for this, nothing could’ve prepared her to watch him leave, to go off on a journey all alone for who knows what reason. She’d known Tom since their first year at Hogwarts and since then, she always knew that he was an enigma. But this, this leaving her without giving any reason— it was frustrating. Oh, it was so damn terrifying and it frightened her the way she could feel her heart break, and she feared that she’d never be able to mend it again.
For all these years, she’d always had him, always had him by her side and always sought after him on her darkest days, always confided in him and reached out for him when she needed someone. What was she to do now that he was leaving her alone?
She never felt like somebody until Tom came along. But with him, she felt important, she felt like she mattered. And now it just felt like he was throwing her away as if she were nothing.
Tom said nothing, even though he, too, could feel his heart begin to rupture in his chest. He loved her. He truly did, even though he was terrified of love at first. After all, he’d never loved anything in his life until she came around.
And when he allowed himself the luxury of loving her, he knew he was jeopardizing everything he had been working toward ever since Albus Dumbledore had told him why he was different from every other kid at the orphanage, ever since he stepped foot into Hogwarts, ever since he had told himself that he’d be the greatest and most powerful wizard of all time.
But he made an exception for her, because when he tried to tear away, he found that he couldn’t, he found that he couldn’t bring himself to be without her unless he felt like bleeding. She was like his bandage, holding him together, keeping him going.
And so in doing that, he had made his first mistake. He gave himself a weakness.
But it had all been worth it, because after all, Tom could never regret loving her, and he knew that no matter what, he’d never forget her. And maybe someday, once he’d successfully split his soul into seven pieces, he’d see her again.
But for now, he knew what he must do.
He gripped his briefcase and strode out of their bedroom, making his way down the stairs. Of course, she chased after him, just barely managing to grab his elbow when they both reached the bottom of the steps, and she turned him around, grabbing either side of his face.
She gazed up into Tom Riddle’s dark irises and saw something more, something she thought she’d seen in a whisper just months before, back when he first showed her Hufflepuff’s cup and Slytherin’s locket. But it was evident now, and she flinched when she saw it.
She wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed it before, how his skin had gradually become slightly paler than it was before over the months, how the sclera of his eyes were no longer pure white but a bright red. Tom Riddle was still as handsome as she remembered him to be but somehow more… ominous.
“What is going on inside that head of yours?” She asked quietly, shaking her head as the hand not cupping his cheek ascended towards his hairline, brushing a loose curl of dark hair away from his sullen face. Her bottom lip trembled and her eyes began to water again when she met his stare once more.
After a while, he finally said, “we will see each other again, my love.” He grabbed either of her hands and tenderly pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist, squeezing his eyes closed as if to savor this moment. She blinked, and a tear crystal slipped down her cheek and to the floor below. “You must know that I love you,” he murmured, and she knew it. She knew he did. Which was why she couldn’t understand why he was leaving. “And I can give you the life you’ve always wanted. But I must go away for a while first.”
She shook her head and her hand slithered around to the back of his head, keeping him here, holding him here. “All I want is you,” she whispered, pushing against the back of his head until his forehead fell on top of hers, her other hand squeezing his bicep. “I want to be with you. So please, just stay.”
Tom squeezed his eyelids shut tight, savoring this last touch before he was willing himself to pull away. Her palm slipped down to his until his touch was ripped away from her altogether, and when he took a few steps backward, she could feel all the scars that Tom had made shine like stars, the scars that he had single-handedly stitched together rip open.
Because somehow, she knew that this would be the last she’d see of her Tom Riddle.
“We will see each other again,” he repeated in a whisper like a sacred prayer, and she had no doubt about it. But she knew that once he left, everything would change. “But for now, this is goodbye.”
And at once, her Tom Riddle Disapparated away and her legs wobbled before she fell to her knees, leaving her to bleed all alone in the home that once belonged to them.
a/n; a little something i thought up last night after watching a cardigan tasm edit LMAO but honestly i love this song and i feel like it kind of fits tom???
| 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |
@darkmoviesquotespizza @lyis 🥹🫶
#tom riddle#tom riddle x you#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle smut#wizarding world#harry potter#harry potter fic#harry potter fandom#harry potter imagine#tom riddle fic#Spotify
934 notes
·
View notes
Text
Broken | B.Z.
Summary: Blaise wants to hide your relationship. You confront him about it.
"Aren't you going to invite me to Slug's Christmas party? I hear you can invite someone not in the club," you questioned with excitement. Professor Slughorn only invited the shining stars in the Wizarding World. Your family blacklisted you from ever being considered. After the break in at the Ministry of Magic last year, your father was arrested for aiding Lord Voldemort.
"No," Blaise answered while never looking up from his book. He dipped his quill in the ink jar and continued to write notes.
"Oh. Are you not going?" you pushed the Slughorn party a little further. Something didn't sit right with you. He was normally short but this was a bit much. Your stomach sank. Did he invite another witch?
"I will be attending alone,"
"Why won't you invite me? This would be the perfect time to reveal our relationship,"
"I said no, your name. We aren't in a relationship," he asserted while never looking up from his book. Normally you would drop the discussion but this time was different. Maybe it was your friend's words getting in your head. He was never going to want more. You started to pack your things. He looked up slightly panicked. "Where are you going?"
"I'm not going to be someone's dirty little secret, Zabini," you answered. "I am going to be with someone that wants to be with me,"
His dark brown eyes stared at you while you zipped your messenger bag closed. His teeth clenched and his eyes darted around wondering what to do. Thoughts sped through his mind. He opened his mouth to speak. Before he could speak you were leaving.
You walked out of the library trying to control your temper. Tears pricked your eyes. This had to be done. Blaise was in hot pursuit of you. Your name rolled off his tongue as he tried to get your attention.
"Your name," Cormac called out. You stopped in your tracks quickly. Blaise took a few steps back. "I have been looking everywhere for you. I was wondering if you would like to join me to Professor Slughorn's party,"
The thought of going with him revolted you. He was a creep. The spoiled brst only knew your name because he saw you attending your father's trial. Imagine seeing a girl crying for her father and a jerk hitting on her.
You felt Blaise eyes stare behind you. The idea was tempting. A party sounded more enticing than crying about your first Christmas without your father. Maybe Cormac changed since the summer. You swallowed your disgust and gladly accepted.
Things at the Christmas party made you realize you should have hung out with Pansy. Things went perfectly at first. Your date gave you all the attention you wished Blaise would have given you. Cormac wasn't afraid to be see with you. Except he wasn't all perfect.
He couldn't keep his hands to himself. You tried acting like you didn't mind it. At first it was innocent. His hand would rest on the small of your back. His hands were suddenly brushing against other parts of your body. Whenever you noticed Blaise was watching you allowed it. Merlin, you knew you were going to need to scrub your skin off.
Everytime he spotted mistletoe he tried to kiss you. He only managed to kiss your cheek though. You always played it off that you were impressed with something at the party. Christmas decorations or Harry Potter were often used as an excuse.
Your saving grace came at the cost of Professor Snape's clothing. Cormac ended up throwing up by the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The boy's sick ended up splatting on to the former Potions professor. Your date was given a detention and thrown out of the party.
After a few minutes, you decided to turn in. The party was starting to die down. Mister Filch caught Draco Malfoy out after curfew. Professor Snape walked with him in tow. You hoped the little ferret didn't cost your house points.
"Your name?" Blaise asked once you two made it to the Slytherin common room. The room was empty. Your fellow Slytherins were long asleep. "A word,"
"I got to actually see what it was like to be with someone that isn't ashamed of me. Do you know what that was like?" You asked with tears in your eyes. A shaky breath slipped out of you. A single tear slid down your cheek. You shrugged and shook your head. "You know I defended you against everyone but you ended up being exactly like they said,"
"And what am I?"
"A sad, lonely bloke who will never love because of his mum," you answered harshly. His nostrils flared as he glared at you. No one was allowed to mention his mother to him. She was a sore subject to him.
"You don't know what you are talking about like usual," he snapped.
"You aren't going to let anyone love you. You didn't want to give me attention because you think I will turn on you like your mother did to your dad," you stopped yourself. So many more words begged to spill from you. They would have just hurt him. Just because you were hurting doesn't mean he should hurt too.
"You think you are so clever," he chuckled dryly. "Stop talking about things you don't know about,"
"I love you, Blaise," you confessed. He flinched at your words. All he would need is one hand to count the times his mother told him those words. A piece of your heart broke at his reaction. He truly didn't know how special he was. "But I can't help fix someone that wants to stay broken,"
#fanfiction#imagine#angst#harry potter#blaise zabini fanfiction#blaise zabini imagine#blaise zabini#blaise zabini x reader
228 notes
·
View notes
Note
For your celebration prompt writing: i would absolutely love something about touch-starved (and maybe additionally emotionally repressed) Arthur. Angst with a hopeful/happy ending and perhaps also merthur would be peak but honestly do what you feel like with it. love your writing either way
Arthur knows he is doing the wrong thing.
Arthur knows that he would just like a gentle touch once in a while and a pat on the back and a voice saying "well done!"
Arthur knows that all this can never come from his father (except for things Arthur greatly despises doing, and what kind of man is Arthur if by now his line of thinking differs from the king's?) but he also knows that he could easily receive it from Merlin.
He would like to receive it from Merlin.
How many times did Merlin try to pat him on the back? To initiate a hug? Once he even tried to take his hand and Arthur found himself in a total panic, as he has never been in his life, not even in battle, and pushed him away.
Arthur is incapable of receiving affection. Morgana has always told him so. And even if she is not among the friendliest people on the face of the earth at least she can be herself with Gwen.
Why can't he?
Arthur watches Merlin walk back and forth across the room picking things up from the floor and complaining that Arthur is a pig and not a prince, that he should at least learn and keep the room tidy because it is one thing to be a manservant and another to be a slave.
Arthur nods and simply continues to stare at him.
It is strange how easy it is to be around Merlin.
It is strange how comfortable Arthur feels without the need to prove himself to be something he is not.
It is strange that he does not feel so at peace with himself even with Leon, with whom he has been squiring and is actually the person he has known the longest.
So why can't he accept a compliment? Why can't he accept a simple caress? Why can't he accept something he wants?
"Arthur, are you all right?"
Arthur looks up to find Merlin kneeling before him, the serious, contemplative face of someone who has probably tried to call him several times.
Arthur does not understand the question but nods anyway.
Merlin does not seem convinced.
It is with a certain kind of reverent shyness that Merlin raises a hand and shakes off Arthur's fringe, resting his cool palm on the other man's forehead.
Arthur leans heavily on that touch.
"Prat. You're burning up, that's why you're so quiet today, come on, I'll help you lie down."
Merlin passes an arm around his waist and helps him up and Arthur actually feels tired. Perhaps all those thoughts about Merlin stem from the fever and nothing more.
The fact that Merlin's arm around his waist makes him feel protected must surely be another symptom.
Finally, Arthur manages to lie down and Merlin is there with him, helping him undress and cover himself with blankets.
"You're an idiot. All you do is complain about irrelevant things but then you have to be stoic when you feel really bad" Merlin rolls his eyes and sighs but doesn't leave, remaining sitting on the edge of the bed looking at Arthur in that strange way that makes Arthur's guts twist and he can't decipher.
Then Merlin takes his hand (because Merlin is nothing if not persistent) and stays there, staring at him with a half-smile and intimating that he should sleep, that he will go to Gaius soon to get some medicine but that in the meantime he should try to bring his fever down with a nap.
Arthur, tired, nods and closes his eyes, Merlin's hand clasped between his and Merlin's smile etched in his mind.
Everything is already much better because Merlin is there with him.
Everything is already much better because Merlin is at his side.
Everything is already much better because Arthur is happy that Merlin is there with him, always.
A thought makes its way into Arthur's head and suddenly he opens his eyes again, bringing them to the figure of Merlin who is sitting next to him, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb and looking at him smiling, beautiful as the sun.
… Oh.
#merthur#merthur prompt#merthur fic#merlin emrys#arthur pendragon#prince arthur pendragon#merlin prompt#merlin fic#merlin fanfic#merthur fanfic#merlin bbc#bbc merlin#merlin#merlin fandom#bbc merthur#my writing
336 notes
·
View notes
Text
merthur fic recs: sof's masterlist
(inspired and encouraged by the ever-lovely @romanticeulogizingelegies <33 ilysm babes)
hello, there! these are fifteen fics that i've collected over the years as my favorite merthur fics of all time. they come in all sorts of genres and lengths and vibes, so buckle up!!
Sorcerers & Knights, and their long-lost Prince by DracoWillHearAboutThis [30k, 9/9]
"Can't you watch where you're going?!" Arthur snapped.
"You ran into me!" the other man exclaimed, incredulous, and Arthur stilled because he knew that voice. And that accent.
He looked up and found himself face to face with a flushed, indignant Merlin Emrys, tour shirt drenched with coffee. Bloody hell.
"That shirt is Dior," was all that came out of Arthur's mouth, without his permission, and the singer's face hardened.
"Well, bugger for you," Merlin snapped. "Might have to wear off the rack, for a change, like the rest of us. Maybe the money you saved with that could go to your precious charity."
Arthur blinked, the blow of the other man's words not even hitting him before he heard Gwen Smith shriek from down the corridor.
"Merlin! You can't say that to the Prince of Wales, oh my God!"
Merlin is the lead singer of the popular British band called Sorcerers & Knights. Arthur is the Prince of Wales. Their paths cross and destiny unfolds.
fellow merthur/rwrb fans rejoice, this is practically a rwrb AU! except Merlin is the lead singer of a rock band, Sorcerers & Knights, and Arthur is the prince of Wales. the romance between the two of them is so insanely sweet, and i love all the outside commentary from the rest of the cast:)) i also recommend literally anything else by DracoWillHearAboutThis !!
Caesura by StormDancer [52k, 1/1]
Merlin is a writing prodigy with the world's most angsty case of writer's block; Arthur is an overachieving Econ major struggling to escape his father's shadow. Together, they fight crime!
Well, no, they don't. But they do fall in love.
College AU where Merlin is an undiagnosed unmedicated ADHD anonymous prodigy author who takes a course on his own work, meets Arthur, a fan, and they fall in love?? omg. on another note, Merlin's characterization in this fic is INSANE! he's giving deranged thought daughter and im obsessed
all ye faithful by schweet_heart [26k, 1/1]
After an eight and a half year absence, Arthur returns to his father’s house for Christmas, determined to find some closure and finally let go of the past. Merlin, as ever, gives him a reason to hold on.
wow. this fic. there's just so many good things to say about it, but i'll start with the beautiful depiction of parental abuse. Uther isn't physical, and he never does anything too obviously harmful, but it's the little things he says and the overall toxicity of his presence. and then the way he acts with Mordred, Morgana's son, while Arthur watches and wonders why his father never treated him like that?? it's brilliant. absolutely brilliant.
the whole fic is a small town AU where Merlin and Arthur were together in secret and broke up as teenagers, and meet again when Arthur comes home. everything about this fic, from the breaking-up-and-making-up to the beautiful depiction of abuse, is so amazing.
Of Lemon Drops and Lizard-Cats by supercalvin [26k, 2/2]
When Inspector Arthur Pendragon went into work that morning he didn’t expect to get on the bad side of an attractive paramedic whose dessert-related insults were surprisingly scathing. Then the same man turned up at the police station, with a clever glint in his eye and his daughter in his arms.
When Merlin Emrys became a single father he made one simple rule: he wouldn’t date until Aithusa was old enough to understand. Merlin had always had his hands full with his daughter and never had a problem with this rule until Arthur stepped into his life. Then everyone he knew started conspiring against him.
single dad paramedic Merlin?? smitten detective Arthur?? mutual pining but self-forbidden romance?? it's amazing. and the domesticity of this fic... let's just say i finished it and couldn't stop thinking about families for the next week. the outside commentary from the rest of the cast in the department is top tier, and Aithusa as Merlin's daughter is the absolute cutest thing
wanna be your end game (my youth is yours) by ladililn [63k, series]
Merlin grows up in Buckingham Palace. Unfortunately, so does Arthur.
this fic is actually a series, and it's genuinely so adorable i have no words. them?? growing up together?? badgering and arguing and teasing?? but truly being there for one another, always, when it came down to it?? elite. the absolute greatest. and their completely oblivious mutual pining never fails to make me giggle <3
after the storm (are you leaving) by Imagined, Scarlet_Ribbons [60k, 6/6]
“Gorwin is my King,” Merlin says, golden eyes fixed flatly on Arthur. “And I work for him. That’s what it says.”
“That’s what what says?” Arthur all but roars, wishing he had a sword just so that he could swing it at something. He needs to let all of this anger at something, anything, he’s just not sure at what and he doesn’t really care anymore.
“The treaty you signed."
Or:
Arthur lends Merlin's aid as a sorcerer to an allied kingdom. He doesn't expect to find Merlin, two years later, in shackles, and only a mere echo of the person he used to be.
this fic is beyond devastating. a warning that it is extremely dark, with a lot of addiction and (non-sexual) slavery. overall, though, it's so beautiful. the way that Arthur forces himself to allow Merlin to leave, and then finds him absolutely destroyed?? then stands by his side through all of it and never gives up on him?? such a beautiful fic, as well as everything else written by these two authors
secrets i have held in my heart by arthur_pendragon [20k, 8/8]
Merlin carves himself into Arthur’s soul while the song of summer trails behind them in the sultry air; while the trees haggle with the sun over the price of autumn — separation. Arthur will forever remember this week in which he obtained his heart’s desire and had it ripped away from him.
wow ok so i'm really not exaggerating when i say this is the best fic i've ever read in my life—it's so heart-stoppingly beautiful and painful and the writing is gorgeous and genuinely i don't even know how to communicate how good this fic is. it's friends-with-benefits but also secret-mutual-pining and angsty and hurtful and ahhhh. so so so good.
Next to You (It's the Rule) by LunaMyLove [62k, 8/8]
Arthur and Merlin have a special relationship. They always have, even when they were prince and servant. While many question it when first noticing, eventually it becomes an understanding in Camelot—and even among some other countries—that where there is Arthur, there is Merlin. And, where there is Merlin, there is Arthur.
Or
Arthur and Merlin's relationship as witnessed and explained by others.
Also, or
Five times someone realizes that Merlin is the Queen, one time Merlin realizes it himself, and one time he owns it.
this is one of the funniest fics i've ever read! if you're familiar, it's very reminiscent of CaffeinatedFlumadiddle's writing. Merlin and Arthur's relationship is hilarious, very mischievous-cat and cat-owner. i also adore Mordred in this fic—he's so squishy and adorable idkidk
since we're alone, you can show me your heart by isolationqueen [7k, 1/1]
Going on a month long road trip though Europe with Arthur is probably a terrible idea. Only, Merlin has never been able to say no to Arthur.
modern road trip AU my beloved!! ughh i love the bitchy pining in this fic, and how protective and jealous Arthur gets. just them going from club to club in all these different places.... so good!! always recommend <3
More than I bargained for by follow_your_fire [27k, 3/3]
Arthur's had enough of hearing about Merlin's unsurpassed bedroom skills from his friends.
There's no way Merlin is better than him, is there?
Well, only one way to find out.
this one is for my porn-with-plot girlies!! Arthur being gay for Merlin is the funniest thing ever, and watching him be so bewildered and confused the entire fic but covering it up so that Merlin doesn't suspect a thing is top tier. and then Merlin being soft?? and loving?? and fluffy?? and then Arthur just doesn't know what to do..... SO GOOD!!
A Collapsing Star With Tunnel Vision by objectlesson [8k, 1/1]
“Perhaps we are doing her a favor then,” he says, pausing to chew the inside of his cheek before adding in a measured, careful voice. “I wouldn’t want to live without my love, either.”
Arthur whips around in the saddle to stare at him, eyes hard and dark, like the storm clouds building on the distant horizon. “What love? You haven’t got a love,” he snaps, like he’s the sole keeper of all Merlin’s secrets.
'Arthur acting different with Merlin alone than he does with the knights' my beloved!! this fic is so poetic and beautiful, with Arthur being ugly and mean but so in love and Merlin is equally so ahhhhh. so insanely good. lots of monster hunting and metaphorical discussions. im obsessed with this fic you don't even understand
Nicest Thing by idlestories [19k, 1/1]
Arthur has been best friends with Merlin since they were eleven, and in love with him since they were sixteen and he realised what that was. Too afraid to risk the friendship, he's resigned himself to never telling him how he feels.
Now, high school has just ended, it's their last summer together before university, and Arthur? Arthur is just trying not to think about it.
Featuring: loneliness, pining, drunk Merlin, driving lessons, and more than a few poorly-executed teen movie clichés. Covers June-December the year they start university.
this fic is so criminally underrated it makes me homicidal. one of my top three favorite fics of all time, do you understand me? it's so. it's so good. the pining?? the yearning?? the split as they go to different unis?? the summery poeticism of the writing?? i'll never get over this fic. i think about it every day. amazing.
time, mystical time by andiwriteordie [17k, 1/1]
Finally, the man tears his gaze away and meets Arthur’s eyes once more. “I seek the aid of your Camelot,” he says, but his voice sounds more hesitant now, as if he’s had to change his response for some strange reason.
Merlin can’t help but believe that reason is him.
“As for who I am,” the man says with a bit of a chuckle, and he glances around the room again at familiar faces, at his friends. “I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot.”
Or:
When a mysterious stranger shows up to Camelot claiming to be Arthur from the future and seeking help for his sick consort, Merlin learns some things about himself, about Arthur, and about a future he never dreamed was possible.
Arthur from the future time travels back in time to find Merlin, the only person powerful enough to save his cursed consort, an older Merlin?? i physically cannot. this fic is so good. shows two sides of the same coin (ha): Merlin and Arthur, established with Merlin's magic out and proud, and then Merlin and Arthur, unestablished and Merlin's magic still a careful secret. and Morgana in this fic is elite!! she's absolutely hilarious and completely done with merthur's bullshit
For Want of a Nail by 0hHeyThereBigBadWolf [235k, 44/44]
Fleeing from Essetir in the bloody beginnings of the Purge, Hunith finds herself on the doorstep of old friends. That's all it takes to untangle the skeins of destiny and weave a new tapestry.
long fic alert!! but oh my god i love this fic. Leon being Merlin's older brother?? elite. Arthur and Merlin going through angsty mutual pining?? top tier. and then later on, this fic features probably my favorite OC of all time: Bellegere, Arthur's cousin and Agravaine's daughter. i love her so much and you can pry her out of my cold dead fingers. just such a good fic!!
what is this feeling by redkay [13k, 1/1]
“Get out of my sight, and don’t come back until you can prove to me why I should allow you to remain in my service.”
Merlin stares at Arthur, confused. His tone was ominous, and it certainly sounded like a threat, but Merlin can’t quite work out what part is supposed to have him shaking in his boots. He’s halfway back to Gauis’ chambers when it dawns on him: Arthur actually thinks this stupid, degrading job is something he would be willing to fight for - as though Merlin’s life wouldn’t be complete without the honor of scrubbing the sheets Arthur manages to soil on a disturbingly regular basis.
In which it takes Merlin a bit longer to warm up to Arthur than it does in canon, but he gets there in the end.
we deserve more of Merlin being genuinely bitchy and pissy at Arthur!! the show really did make him Arthur's #1 fangirl wayyy too quickly, but this fic fixes that right up. it's so funny, but so heart-touching at the same time. a classic <3
wow, this list is so long overdue it's insane, but i think this was the right time to finally put it out there. i hope you like these fics!!
#merthur#merlin#bbc merlin#bbcm#merthur fic#merthur fic recs#merlin fic#merlin fic recs#arthur pendragon#merthur fanfic#merthur ao3#merlin fanfic
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
If only you asked...
Remus Lupin x Professor!Reader
Summary: Remus is deciding wheter or not to ask you out, and you're having a bad day. (Gender neutral reader)
Word count: 1.3k
A/N: A little continuation to my other Remus fic 'Crash!' can also be read as a stand-alone. Let me know if there are any spelling errors, English is not my first language.
A few months had passed since you became a professor at Hogwarts.
At first, it had been hard to get the students truly engaged with the subject. Of course you understood that history could get boring, but slowly and with a lot of effort, the kids were inspired by your own enthusiasm. You were eccentric enough to catch their attention for the whole hour, and stern enough to make sure they were actually learning.
Now, the relationship with your coworkers was an easier task. You got along with them just fine, having quickly learned about each of their personalities and being mindful of their own little quirks.
You knew well to treat Severus with respect, to call Minerva by her first name, to never interrupt Sprout while she was teaching and to be open minded to whatever Trelawney had to say, even when she spoke the most peculiar of facts.
Surely, there was also Remus. Whom, no matter how many odd quirks, could never get on your nerves. Even with his strange way of acting every once month, you thought he must have his reasons. Your bond was warm, a friendship disguised under pure professionalism (or so you thought).
You see, it was always:
“Oh, professor Lupin, you must come with me to Hogsmeade this weekend!”
And Remus would never turn down an offer from you. He would say:
“That’s very convenient, you see, I was just thinking that I need to go to the quill shop.”
It turned cartoon-ish after a while. You’d invite him to the village, he’d suddenly remember that he also has to go the village, so it would be foolish to refuse, and you’d both smile brightly to each other. Now, Remus was quickly running out of stores he ‘needed’ to go to, and your invitations were so regular that they didn’t seem ‘just friendly’ anymore.
The truth is, you were fooling no one. Except maybe yourselves.
If anyone should ask about your relationship, you were kind to answer:
“Of course professor Lupin and I are friendly, we’re coworkers!”
And Remus didn’t hesitate to respond:
“Yes, I’d say we’re good acquaintances, why do you ask?”
In the staff room, Severus would raise his eyebrows every time, which is the most expressive you’ve seen him. Then Flitwick would sip on his tea, and Dumbledore would grin. Nevertheless, the professors were still indifferent to whatever-might-be-going-on with you two, Merlin knows they don’t need anything else to get involved with.
The students, however, do love a little love story. They would throw each other glances every time you stepped in Remus’ classroom, whisper excitedly when they caught you two talking animatedly, and roll their eyes whenever you’d invite him to Hogsmeade.
It was painfully clear! You both fancied each other, why couldn’t you just date, and get over it! The truth is, you were both phenomenal cowards. The ‘what ifs’ were clouding your minds. Also was it even allowed for professors to date? (No one cared!) But since the pair of you decided it would be best to ignore these feelings and not talk about it, the months just kept on stretching out and neither dared to make a move that wasn’t inside the usual routine of Hogsmeade’s strictly-professional-and-maybe-a-little-friendly strolls.
Remus’ heart raced just by thinking of asking you out for once. He smiled to himself, looked at a fixed point in his office, and ignored the papers he was supposed to be grading for a moment. He was thinking of you. Your humour, then your laugh, then your smile, then your blushing cheeks, then your twinkling eyes.
‘I’m absolutely done for.’ He thought, snapping out of his mind.
There was someone at his door.
“Minerva, please come in.”
Behind her glasses, McGonagall had a sharp glint in her eyes, and her mouth showed a faint smirk. She had come all the way to Remus’ office to discuss the little outing he was planning for the fourth years’ class. And she did just that, but in the back of her mind there was something else. She decided it was time to help her former student a bit, after all, she’d always had a soft spot for Remus.
“Winter holidays are getting closer.” She remarked, as she was getting up.
“A much needed break for everyone, isn’t it?”
“Of course...” She nodded with her usual poise. “Any plans for this winter, Remus?”
“Oh, Minerva, whatever could I have planned for winter? You know me...” He chuckled, shrugging and pointing to his office with his hands. Accompanying her to the door, he said. “I’m quite the dull man, after all.”
“I was just asking, since I’ve been seeing you out in Hogsmeade every weekend, I thought you could have...” She smiled, and Remus stuttered a bit before Minerva spoke again, softly but surely. “If you asked them, Remus, they would say yes, you know...”
Then she left, still grinning when she closed the door behind her. Remus stood there, lips tightly closed and feeling like he was caught red-handed. He sat down, then stood up again, and finally decided to sit down again. He also shook with laughter for a while as if he was insane, but kept quiet for a long time after that.
“I’m fucked.” He concluded out loud.
You loved the atmosphere that winter had brought to Hogwarts. The holidays were just around the corner and the kids seemed excited, ready for a break just as much as the professors were.
The students got more distracted this time of the year, but no one could really blame them. At the same time, exams were the last obstacle between them and the enchanting, needed rest. But it was surely a lot of work. You had so many papers and tests to grade that you started to wonder if it would be possible to have two history teachers instead of just one. Two whole stressful weeks where you didn’t even go out on weekends, and your free time was basically nonexistent. Merlin, you were almost out of your mind.
Hugging yourself in your heavy winter coat, and sipping on your hot tea, you made your way to your classroom. You were late because you’d accidentally slept in, after staying up late trying to decipher some bizarre students’ essays. But no matter how late, you were not about to miss breakfast or you’d surely pass out in the middle of the class, so you went down to the kitchens, asked politely for a cup and took off as fast as you could.
The thing is, today was not your day at all. But it could get worse, and it did! 5 minutes before the end of your first class, you tripped slightly, as you tend to do, but your worn out boots simply decided it was enough, and the heel on one of them broke. You just stared at your mutilated shoe for a moment, standing in a weird uneven stance, uncharacteristically quiet. You sighed, looked at the attentive students and dismissed the class for the day.
There were 35 minutes before the next class started, ‘enough time to cry a little’, you thought. But you shook your head, and sat down at your desk, examining your shoe.
“Certainly broken boot will not bring me down.” You spoke to yourself.
“I don’t see how it could.” Said a soft voice.
You snapped your head forward, and watched Remus entering your classroom, a shy smile on his face.
“Is this a bad time?” He asked, unusually bashful.
“No, no! I was just...” You held the boot for him to see. “Trying to fix this...”
He chuckled at the poor state of your shoes and got closer to take a look.
“I really should go to Hogsmeade, and see if someone can patch them up for me.” You mumbled, quite discouraged at your own chances of reapairing it. “Would you like to accompany me, professor?” The question was soft, hopeful, and it got a smile out of both of you.
“That’s very convenient, you see, I was just about to ask you on a date."
#remus lupin#remus lupin x you#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin fluff#remus x reader#gender neutral reader#oneshot#x reader#my writing
186 notes
·
View notes
Text
[REQUESTS OPEN]
[1.6k] or, in which james potter experiences the joys of muggle weed for the first time in his life.
.
It was two in the morning when you heard the boys stumbling into the Potter Manor.
The click of the door and creaky hinges, the hushed whispers and lost giggles, the scuffling shoes and the heavy footsteps. They were not subtle in any sense, and you couldn’t help but let the sentiment warm your heart. They were stupid but they were your boys, and you adored that even years later they were as childish and uncaring about the world as they were in their first years at Hogwarts.
It wasn’t unusual for you all to spend the last few weeks of summer at Potter Manor. The family adored you like you were their own, and something about spending long summer days laid out in the woods just beyond the manor, spiked drinks and river swims just filling the days before you returned to school beat any other vacation.
You had spent most of the day huddled away in the Potter library, cups of tea and a cosy blanket settled on your lap. The boys had decided to take a day out in London, leaving early in the morning kissing Euphemia on cheek and promising they would return at a reasonable time.
Which they clearly didn’t keep.
You made it to the doorway, slipping the door open enough to peak your head out as they made it to the top of the stairs—and the sight wasn’t one you expected.
Sirius and Remus flanking either side of your very giggly and very clumsy boyfriend, both boys a little dazed themselves but far less gone than James.
“Merlin,” you murmured as you pushed the door open further, stepping out into the hallway as all three boys lifted their heads up at your voice.
“BABY!”
“Oh fucking hell—”
“Prongs!”
Your brows raised in amusement as you watched your boyfriend try to wiggle out his friends’ arms, his gaze set on you and nothing else on his mind except getting towards you.
“What did you give—oh, hello!”
You barely had a moment to even process the huge boy running towards you before his arms were around you, hoisting you a few inches of the ground as he held you to his chest.
“We, uh, may have…possibly…maybe…” Sirius began, a sheepish smile on his lips as he glanced a bit warily towards his friend.
“Sirius gave him weed,” Remus piped in.
Sirius spluttered.
“And he may have had a drink or two.”
“Moony, what the fuck!”
“He’s very gone,” Remus added, a sly smirk on his lips that told you he wasn’t as wasted as the other two. And it also told you he enjoyed winding up Sirius a lot more than people assumed.
“He wouldn’t shut up about you either,” Sirius grumbled as he pressed his fingers to his temples. “I love you but—”
“Hey, hey,” James’ head popped up from your shoulder, eyes narrowing behind his glasses as he stared at his friend. “Only I can say that.”
Sirius raised his hands in mock defence but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Guess there’s no chance I can get a smooch then?” he teased, hooded eyes making a point of glancing over at you.
“No,” James muttered with a pout.
“Piss off, Pads, stop messing with him,” Remus scolded lightly, even if he was thoroughly amused himself by the way James clung onto you. “It’ll be better in the morning when he remembers it.”
Sirius’ grin widened. “You’re absolutely right, Moony.”
“You both are trouble,” you said as your hands fisted the material of your boyfriend’s sweater, keeping a hold on him in fear that if you let go he would just run off. Drunk James was notorious for being a runner, you had no idea where stoned James stood in the spectrum.
“You love us,” Sirius sang.
“Yeah, yeah,” you waved him off but you didn’t deny it. You loved your boys, you loved each of them dearly. It just so happened you loved James in a way that was a little different to the way you loved Sirius and Remus.
Both boys quickly disappeared into their rooms, leaving you to guide a giggly James back towards his room in hopes of not waking up his parents who were just down the hall. It was surprisingly easy to get him to cooperate when you cracked the code—then again, he was James Potter. The boy would move a mountain just to kiss you, let alone be the centre of your attention.
“C’mere,” James whined as he tried to pull your body towards him, not even letting you step away from the bed he just settled on as you stood between his legs, his arms wrapped around your thighs and trapping you against him. “I missed you.”
“I saw you this morning, Jamie,” you teased, your hands settled on his broad shoulders as he rested his head against your stomach.
“Yeah but,” he let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “That was a long time ago.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he grumbled and he lifted his head, chin pressing into your stomach and his wild, unruly curls falling in front of his eyes. He let out a small hum as your hands worked through the curls, pushing his hair back until his bright eyes were staring back at you, a little red and dazed but still so pretty. “I don’t like being away from you.”
“That sounds unhealthy,” you remarked but the comment was light-hearted. James being affectionate and a little clingy was not something you were not used to. The boy practically lived and breathed every day to tell you how much he cared about you.
But this just felt a little different.
“‘S not,” James said with a small huff, his large hands squeezing the back of your thighs as though he was scared you would step away from him. “You’re my future. I don’t wanna be anywhere else but with you.”
And you didn’t know if it was your own cynical heart or maybe your unreasonably high standards, but there was never a time in your life where you expected a man to make you swoon. But in came James Potter with his pretty words and promises tied up in a bow and you couldn’t help yourself.
Your cheeks flushed and your skin heated as he flashed you a dopey smile with his words. Sometimes you weren’t sure he knew just how much he affected you, that those pretty promises made your heart beat wildly in your chest and remind you just what it’s like to fall in love with someone as adoring and devoted as James.
“You can’t just say stuff like that, Potter,” you cleared your throat, one hand raising to cup his cheek and your stomach flipped a little at the way he nuzzled himself into your touch. “Gonna give a girl high expectations.”
“I mean it,” he said and his arms tightened around you. He turned his head to the side and pressed a chaste kiss against the palm of your hand. “‘m gonna marry you one day, just you wait and see.”
Your cheeks were burning hotter than you could even imagine. “You not even gonna ask first?”
“I will,” James nodded with a dreamy sigh, his eyes drooping a little as the exhaustion started to settle deep into his bones and muscles. “Gonna get you the prettiest ring and ask you at the—”
“Alright there, pretty boy, time for bed,” you quickly interrupted, hands falling down to take a hold of his as you pulled your body away from him, despite his attempts to keep you close. “Trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning.”
You didn’t try and push your luck with the sleepy boy, deciding it was just best to get him into his pyjamas and hope for the best. You took his glasses off and gently placed them on his bedside table before making your way around the bed, to your side.
But a hand shot out to stop you.
“Where are you going?” His voice sounded so small, it made your heart clench a little. “Don’t go.”
“I’m not going anywhere, baby, just getting into bed,” you told him softly, thumb running over the back of his hand to reassure him.
“Then get in here,” he said and you could almost imagine the confused furrowed eyebrows on his face despite the lack of light in the room.
“James–”
But the boy was as stubborn and insistent as he was when he was sober, and clearly just as strong as he yanked you towards him. The action was unexpected and left you ungraciously falling on top of him with a thud. You tried to scramble away so you weren’t squishing him but his arms caging you in prevented you from doing so.
“James, let me go.”
“No.”
“At least let me get comfortable.”
“...fine.”
And with a little reshuffling and shared kisses, you laid on the bed with your boyfriend wrapped around you and his sleepy voice lulling you asleep as he spoke, his voice trailing off the closer he got to falling asleep himself.
Whispered hopes and dreams tickling the skin of your neck where his face was nuzzled close as he spoke about weddings and futures, dreams and desires. A future with James Potter was one you’d imagine would leave you happier than you had ever been.
A future with James Potter was everything you wanted and more, it was everything he had ever wished for.
And when the sun rose again and James was no longer spouting every thought that crossed his mind, he knew without a doubt he planned to spend the rest of his life with you, starting with a ring he wanted to put on your finger the second you walked out of Hogwarts with him by your side.
.
#james potter#marauders#harry potter#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter one shot#james potter fic#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders one shot#marauders fic#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter one shot#harry potter fic#THIRD TIME LUCKY🫠#I might cry
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
gopalislittleshop
Untitled
sopulisto
Running with scissors
ailacassia
Dona Quântica
le-cthuloser
Egg
gohardpaintercollectorus-blog
Препараты повышения потенции купи