#the broomstick to my ceiling

[fruitsclipper]

whos listening to their show ass-blastingly loud tonight  . Stop it.

#Please ! #astr.txt #i think its my upstairs neighbor . going to smack my ceiling with broomstick

[liauditore]

when an artist i follow likes my art it's like making a wish on a star in the night sky and seeing it twinkle back. its not a kiss or an embrace or anything that holds meaning and nobody would care too much if you told them after the sun rises but it's a small reminder that despite the city lights and the leaky ceiling and the scary stuff on the news the sky and the world will always love you so subtly and gently and always and forever.

when a cc likes my art it's like some sort of Beast has entered my backyard and it isn't even doing anything bad but i am grabbing the broomstick and hitting the ground as hard as i can going "HEY. HEY." trying to scare it off

#delete later

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Hallow'seams

A Seams Halloween special oneshot

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: A spicy T

Summary: Joel proves to you that he can be adventurous if he wants to be.

Warnings: Joel wears a slutty Halloween costume, fluff, mentions of drinking, spicy thoughts but nothing explicit, no use of Y/N

Word count: 1.7k

Notes: I was so looking forward to writing this Seams Halloween special that I floated back in the summer. Unfortunately, life™ happened - I've had a very rough month and honestly I didn't think I had it in me to do any writing for the rest of this year, but then this happened! I woke up thinking about Joel wearing a Gladiator costume and couldn't put it down. It's not as long or intricate as my original idea, but I hope you enjoy this anyway. I've missed these two so much!

Thank you for sticking with me and giving me so much love, I really don't deserve you all 🧡 Happy Halloween!

Joel pushes open the door to the High Street Outfitters, one booted foot steps over the threshold -

And he stops and stares.

Pumpkins of all sizes, some more crudely carved than others, seem to occupy every conceivable surface. Black cat and broomstick decals adorn the worn wooden walls, while hand-pulled cotton cobweb the ceilings.

When his feet unstick and move into the empty shop, he nearly topples a huge cauldron of what looks like homemade candy. Steadying it with his hands, he mutters under his breath. 'What the f-'

He would never admit it, but he nearly jumps out of his skin when you emerge from the studio with a dramatic flutter of the curtain divider. 'Oh hey, you're here!'

Stepping towards you, he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth in a hello, and gestures. 'You really went all out, hmm?'

Your grin brims with pride, and he feels his lips stretch into an answering smile as you straighten up some of the costumes on a nearby rack.

'We found a Halloween shop nearby a few years back,' you explain. 'All their stock was still in boxes in the store room, so we took everything and ran with it. It's a lot of work every year, but the kids have so much fun with it, it's definitely worth it.'

Joel hums skeptically. 'Not just the kids have fun, from what I heard.'

You cross your arms and play coy. 'What have you heard?'

'That my brother hosts the rowdiest Halloween party in town for the adults every year, and tonight is their last hurrah before the baby comes.'

You chuckle. 'And I'm guessing you fought the costume and lost?'

'There’s no winnin’ when your sister-in-law plays the pregnancy card,' he grumbles with poorly concealed fondness.

You walk him towards the racks near the cashier. 'Here are the men's costumes. We run a pay what you want system for Halloween rentals, just pop your contribution into that pumpkin on the counter. You better hurry though, things start kicking off around seven tonight.'

Joel combs through the outfits half-heartedly, when a standalone clothes rack on the other side of the room, covered with a black sheet, catches his eye. 'And what's that?'

You hesitate, and stutter, 'Oh, um - you won’t like those.'

Arching an eyebrow, he stares down at you. 'Why is that, sweetheart?'

The endearing way you wring your hands and worry your bottom lip brings him right back to when he first met you. Your shyness has always provoked a reaction from him - an understanding at first, from the introvert in him. Then protectiveness, when he started spending time with you.

And now, knowing you the way he does, with you opening up to him over the past few months, he lets his mouth relax into a half-smirk, one hand curling around your waist to pull you into his side as he teases, 'Use your words, Pin.'

You huff, recognising the playfulness in his body language, but you still struggle to get the words out. 'They’re - um, damnit - they're adventurous.'

He sets his face in a mock stern expression. 'And what, I’m too borin' for them?'

Narrowing your eyes at him, which makes him grin, you deadpan, 'It's just - they're not your thing, ok? They're of the -' you pause, and gesture in air quotes. 'Occupational variety.'

Comprehension dawns on him, and he drawls, 'Ah, you mean slutty costumes.'

He can feel your skin heat at his words as you duck your head, and he teases, voice low and gruff by your ear. 'And will you be wearin' somethin' slutty for me tonight, sweetheart?'

Your breath hitches and your lips part, eyes glassy at the turn of the mood. 'Joel -'

He isn't a particularly spiritual man, but the longer he lives, the more he’s convinced that some people are put on earth for a reason.

And Lucy's raison d'etre is to cockblock him at every turn.

The door bursts open with a brash energy that is uniquely hers (with an uncanny resemblance to Ellie's), and your best friend doesn't skip a beat at the sight of the pair of you canoodling. 'Save the making out for later, Miller. We gotta go get ready Pin, c’mon!'

You hastily press a kiss to his whiskered cheek. 'Pick your costume and lock up behind you, ok? I'll see you in a bit.'

Lucy all buts hauls you out of the shop, throwing over her shoulder. 'See ya later, Miller! You better show up half naked!'

Curiosity getting the better of him, Joel pulls back the sheet from the clothes rack, and his eyebrows reach for his softly graying hairline. Leafing through the options, he pauses somewhere in the middle, and smiles to himself.

He’ll show you adventurous.

Maria and Tommy's Halloween party is easily the most anticipated event in the Jackson social calendar. Illicit incentives often swap hands for a RSVP, with those unfortunate enough to be assigned patrol duties on the night willing to pay handsomely for a swap in shifts.

While the kids are knocked out at home from eating their body weight in sugar, the Tipsy Bison is teeming with townsfolk. The normally dark interiors are decked out floor to ceiling in garish black and orange, as if people wouldn't get the memo.

Joel was apprehensive on his arrival, pausing for a moment outside the double doors of the establishment to steel himself. But as soon as he crosses the threshold into the warm and boisterous bar, so loud that his right ear rings, he realises that his worries are completely unwarranted.

No one even bats an eyelid as he wades through the throngs of partygoers, nodding politely at acquaintances who drunkenly shout his name and raise a pitcher in greeting.

It's pure madness - Halloween stopped existing for him twenty years ago. The last time he went to a Halloween party was their neighbour's barbeque. He still remembers the Gryffindor costume he bought Sarah, and how big she smiled swishing around in her robe, casting gibberish spells on her friends all night.

This, however, is a distinctly grownup affair.

When he put on his costume and stood in front of the mirror an hour ago, he could barely look at his own reflection. But now, compared to others in the room, turns out his choice is almost demure.

He only saw Gladiator once when it came out a couple of years before the outbreak, but he liked it, and when he saw the costume on the rack, he picked it out straight away.

The dark red cape sits on his shoulders and drapes across half of his torso - shirtless, of course - baring his right arm. He's a bit self-conscious about the skirt (he's sure there's a name for it but the packaging didn't shed light on this), which sits mid-thigh, fastened by a belt around his waist. He's even wearing the Roman sandals and leather bracelet, and a plastic sword hangs from his belt - the full monty.

The vain side in him thinks he can pull it off, but more importantly -

He wore it for you.

But you're nowhere to be seen, even after he grabs a beer from the counter, having circled the bar twice. Spotting a lone empty chair at a high table, he decides to perch (pulling down his skirt so his boxers don't show) while he has a drink and looks for you.

His keen eyes scan the room methodically. Sexy witches, slutty lumberjacks, misbehaving firemen, naughty nurses - together with the noise, everyone and everything seems to blur into one, and he almost gives up when something familiar crosses his line of sight.

Joel frowns.

Hold up. That toolbelt looks familiar. His eyes narrow as he squints at the worn faded leather.

It is his toolbelt. The toolbelt that disappeared from his garage workshop a couple of days ago that Ellie swears she knows nothing about. That little shit.

Then his gaze pulls back, like a camera zooming out, and he finds that the toolbelt is sitting on the soft swell of a pair of hips, over short denim cut-offs that he's sure he's seen before, and below a red flannel. His red flannel, knotted at the waist, that he knows you sleep in every night.

His chest rumbles with something primal, and he downs the rest of his beer in one big gulp before slamming the empty pint glass on the table and getting onto his feet.

You don’t see him coming, but you know without turning around the moment a pair of strong hands close over your hips in a possessive grip, pulling you towards the bathroom in the back of the bar.

He knocks a breathless laugh out of you when he pushes you up the closed door, the noise of the party muted by the thick timber as you grin up at him, preening at the way his dark gaze rakes over your costume.

A shiver runs down your spine as your own undoubtedly dilated eyes follow the solid outline of his right arm, which flexes as he rests his palm on the door behind you, then down his broad chest and the soft belly he’s so nonchalantly putting on display.

It’s absurd, you know - it’s just a tacky Halloween costume, but the seams of your eyes prickle as you muse how comfortable he is in his own skin.

'And what exactly are you dressed up as?' he asks, sliding his free hand under the toolbelt to squeeze your ass.

'A slutty contractor,' you answer boldly, dragging your index finger down his bare chest. 'Isn't it obvious?'

'And you thought stealin' my toolbelt for your little costume was a good idea?' he growls.

'Well, I didn't know you'd turn up as a gladiator of all things,' you tease, wrapping your fingers around the hilt of his plastic sword.

It should not make his pulse spike like this.

'Not only that, sweetheart. I'm a slutty gladiator, thank you very much,' he retorts, walking into you to slot his hips flush against yours.

You shoot him a loaded smirk that instantly has his boxers shrink by two sizes. Ripping his cape off his shoulders, you ask cheekily, ‘And what does my champion demand as punishment -'

Joel doesn't let you finish your sentence, swallowing the rest of it with a kiss so deep that it steals your voice and takes out your knees in one fell swoop.

Grinning at the way you're already bonelessly slumped against him, he winks, nose brushing yours. 'I can think of a few things, sweetheart.'

Note: Thank you for reading! I had so much fun dipping my toe back into the Seams universe, I hope you did too. This is me warming up with a view of returning to writing for the series proper, fingers crossed sometime soon! Comments/reblogs/asks are very much appreciated as always 🧡

Thank you @firefly-graphics for the adorably spooky dividers!

#fuckyeahseams #hallow'seams #seams halloween special #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller fluff

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Harry Potter is Really Magically Powerful

So, in continuation to this post, and my desire to show some love to Harry James Potter, this post is dedicated to showing how magically powerful Harry actually is in the books — which is insanely powerful. Harry doesn't think of himself as a great wizard, but he is — definitely powerful enough to be Voldemort's equal (and Dumbledore's for that matter).

Under the cut are some quotes from the books that prove this.

Accidental Magic

Let's start with Harry's childhood accidental magic. Tom was considered prodigious for being able to steal things with magic and make animals obey him intentionally. Neville, as a late bloomer, bounced when thrown, which is the bare minimum of childhood accidental magic young witches and wizards should be doing.

Now he came to think about it…every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Harry, had been upset or angry…chased by Dudley’s gang, he had somehow found himself out of their reach…dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, he’d managed to make it grow back…and the very last time Dudley had hit him, hadn’t he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it? Hadn’t he set a boa constrictor on him?

(Philosopher's Stone, page 44)

Harry has:

Apparated out of Dudley's reach when in danger to get away - advanced magic only allowed to practice from the age of 16!

Growing back all his hair from not liking the bad haircut.

Disappearing the glass of the Boa Constrictor case and leashing it

not even when he’d had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that he’d somehow turned his teacher’s wig blue.

(Philosopher's Stone, page 84)

4. Turning his teacher's hair blue.

We see Harry is capable of aparation, transfiguration, and various charms at a level that is considered prodigious. Harry was incredibly advanced as a child according to his feats of magic before even knowing magic was real. And while he wasn't as intentional as Tom, he was aware enough to know odd things happened when he was "furious or upset" that the odd things responded to him.

Intuitive Casting

I wrote later in this post about this, but I do want to write a whole essay about how magic works in the Wizarding world, but like, really in short, emotion and intention matter in magic. A lot.

And we see Harry make use of this fact to great effect. Using spells with intention to change the way they behave and they work for him because of how magically prodigious he is.

Harry raised his own wand. “Protego!” Snape staggered; his wand flew upward, away from Harry — and suddenly Harry’s mind was teeming with memories that were not his — a hook-nosed man was shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner. . . . A greasy-haired teenager sat alone in a dark bedroom, pointing his wand at the ceiling, shooting down flies. . . . A girl was laughing as a scrawny boy tried to mount a bucking broomstick — “ENOUGH!” Harry felt as though he had been pushed hard in the chest; he took several staggering steps backward, hit some of the shelves covering Snape’s walls and heard something crack. Snape was shaking slightly, very white in the face.

(Order of the Phoenix, page 591)

This is from the last of Harry's and Snape's Occlumancy lessons. What's interesting here is that from Snape's words, it seems the protego spell isn't supposed to work like that. Harry is magically powerful enough to make protego (shield charm) to defend him from Legilamancy, turn the Legilamancy onto Snape and disarm Snape.

No wonder Snape is shocked, it really isn't supposed to work. Unless you're Harry Potter, that is.

He did say in their first lesson the rules of magic don't seem to apply to Harry.

“Reparo!” hissed Snape, and the jar sealed itself once more. “Well, Potter . . . that was certainly an improvement. . . .” Panting slightly, Snape straightened the Pensieve in which he had again stored some of his thoughts before starting the lesson, almost as though checking that they were still there. “I don’t remember telling you to use a Shield Charm . . . but there is no doubt that it was effective. . . .”

(Order of the Phoenix, page 591)

What I marked here is the fact in all their occlumancy lessons, even the first, Snape always placed a few memories in the pensive. He chose memories he didn't want Harry to see and place them there.

Okay... so why is that a big deal?

Snape repeatedly belittles Harry's magical skills, and yet, he fears Harry would turn the Legilemancy connection back on him. Legilemancy as Snape explained is no easy skill:

“Only Muggles talk of ‘mind reading.’ The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter . . . or at least, most minds are. . . .” He smirked. “It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly...”

(Order of the Phoenix, pages 350-351)

As such, he doesn't expect Harry to be capable of it. But that’s a lie. He clearly thinks Harry is skilled enough to be a threat in this situation. That Harry just might be able to turn this around and glimpse his own memories, which is no easy feat.

And Snape is many things, but stupid isn't one of them. If he thinks Harry is uniquely magically prodigious to be capable of this, then Harry probably is. Especially considering how much Snape hates Harry and how much he'd rather think he's stupid, useless, and unskilled.

“SHE KILLED SIRIUS!” bellowed Harry. “SHE KILLED HIM — I’LL KILL HER!” And he was off, scrambling up the stone benches. People were shouting behind him but he did not care. The hem of Bellatrix’s robes whipped out of sight ahead and they were back in the room where the brains were swimming. . . . She aimed a curse over her shoulder. The tank rose into the air and tipped. Harry was deluged in the foul-smelling potion within. The brains slipped and slid over him and began spinning their long, colored tentacles, but he shouted, “Wingardium Leviosa!” and they flew into the air away from him. Slipping and sliding he ran on toward the door.

(Order of the Phoenix, page 809)

Okay, so can we talk about this Levitation Charm? Please?

Like, get this, he uses Wingardium Leviosa, like a shield charm that sends multiple magical projectiles away from him. This isn't how this charm works, but it is if you're Harry Potter. (again, this is that intention use I mentioned)

The point is, that Harry is magically powerful enough to bend the way spells are meant to work to fit his will and situation.

And when Voldemort possesses him at the end of the fight in Order of the Phoenix:

He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature’s began. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape — And when the creature spoke, it used Harry’s mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move. . . . “Kill me now, Dumbledore. . . .” Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again. . . . “If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy. . . .” Let the pain stop, thought Harry. Let him kill us. . . . End it, Dumbledore. . . . Death is nothing compared to this. . . . And I’ll see Sirius again. . . . And as Harry’s heart filled with emotion, the creature’s coils loosened, the pain was gone, Harry was lying facedown on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering as though he lay upon ice, not wood. . . .

(Order of the Phoenix, page 816)

Harry kicks Voldemort out.

As I mentioned, I have a a whole theory I'm drafting about magical theory and how magic works in the Wizarding World, but emotion as Harry describes in this scene is part of it. Emotion drives childhood accidental magic. Emotion is required to cast the Patronus charm and any of the unforgivable. Because of how emotion is tied to magic in this world, this instance is Harry's magic kicking Voldemort in his full power out of his mind.

Which is an impressive feat of magic.

Advanced Charmwork

“Oh — yeah —” said Harry, quickly forcing his thoughts back to that first broom ride. “Expecto patrono — no, patronum — sorry — expecto patronum, expecto patronum —” Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of his wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas. “Did you see that?” said Harry excitedly. “Something happened!”

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 238)

This is the first time Harry cast a Patronus Charm. On his very first try of this complex charm, most adult wizards fail at — he succeeds. It isn't a perfect casting. His happy memory isn't happy enough, but the problem isn't Harry's skill.

The fact he succeeded in casting it at all with how crap his life has been up to this point is a testament to his magical talent.

Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before. He flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed “Crucio!” Bellatrix screamed. The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had — she was already on her feet again, breathless, no longer laughing.

(Order of the Phoenix, page 810)

Harry, at age fifteen, casts the Cruciatus Curse for the first time. An advanced piece of dark magic that is tricky to cast. Sure, it wasn't the best cast Crucio, but it did work.

It did land.

It worked enough for Bellatrix to stop laughing and start taking Harry seriously.

Harry raised the hawthorn wand beneath the cloak, pointed it at the old goblin, and whispered, for the first time in his life, “Imperio!” A curious sensation shot down Harry’s arm, a feeling of tingling, warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast.

(Deathly Hollows, page 452)

Like with the Cruciatus Curse, Harry succeeds in the Imperius curse on his first try (and the second try that happens immediately after). In general, Harry learns to cast most spells (even the advanced ones) incredibly quickly — like, on his first try. That's insane!

As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, “Crucio!” The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. “I see what Bellatrix meant,” said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, “you need to really mean it.”

(Deathly Hollows, page 502)

And he gets better over time, both with the Cruciatus Curse, as we see here and his fully corporeal Patronus which is considered an unbelievable feat for a fifteen-year-old:

“Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapor or smoke?” “Yes,” said Harry, feeling both impatient and slightly desperate, “it’s a stag, it’s always a stag.” “Always?” boomed Madam Bones. “You have produced a Patronus before now?” “Yes,” said Harry, “I’ve been doing it for over a year —” “And you are fifteen years old?” “Yes, and —” “You learned this at school?” “Yes, Professor Lupin taught me in my third year, because of the —” “Impressive,” said Madam Bones, staring down at him, “a true Patronus at that age . . . very impressive indeed.”

(Order of the Phoenix, page 141)

I agree Madam Bones, Harry is impressive and is Voldemort's equal magically. Harry isn't just Expelliarmos. he's clever and talented and very magically capable with every spell he tries his hand in.

#harry potter #harry potter thoughts #harry potter theory #hollowedtheory #hp theory #wizarding world #overthinking #harry james potter #harry potter analysis #I just really love harry james potter

[violettaskies]

Maybe, Just Maybe

prompt: exhibitionism

pairing: neighbour!steve x f!reader x neighour!eddie munson

genre: romance, smut, autumn vibes

notes: wc 12k // this is literally a halloween story oops // lets pretend that i posted this when it was NOT November lmao // steddie smut lol // eddie and steve are roommates // reader is their new neighbour

warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // exhibitionism, balcony sex, eating out, blow jobs, doggy style, sex, cozy sex lol, vaginal fingering // threesome // mfm // smut // please let me know if there are any more that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

Maybe moving into a new apartment during the month of October seems like a good idea to a normal person. It’s right after the busy summer months that are filled with vacations and plans with friends. But, also just before the holiday season with back-to-back family parties that can become borderline awkward. 

Well, looking at it now, maybe it wasn’t the best idea.

Maybe you shouldn’t have put the idea in your head that you wanted to update your decorations every season. Maybe you shouldn’t have spent three paychecks on cute pumpkins and fake cauldrons. Maybe you should have asked your parents to leave the ladder they brought when they helped you move in. Maybe you should have just grinned and bared it when you weren’t able to reach the ceiling of your balcony, and you couldn’t hang up the cute lights you bought.

In a world full of maybes, full of possibilities that were drowning in regret towards what could have been; you didn’t regret a thing once you looked upwards to see your extremely handsome neighbour helping you hang up the lights. He saw you about an hour earlier, standing on a chair and some books attempting to install a bunch of string lights that looked like candles. But with one moment of imbalance, causing you to drop the broom which was supposed to help you push the tape onto the ceiling — your neighbour ran out of his own apartment to see what all the noise was about. Especially since he heard a high-pitched scream coming from your lips. 

“What’s going on—” he ran out to his own balcony to see you in a state of shock, looking down at the ground below. 

“Sorry, I overreacted. My broomstick fell,” you said sweetly with a pout. Truthfully, you could already hear your parents’ scolding as you imagined the moment you would attempt to tell this moment as a funny story during Thanksgiving dinner in a few weeks. 

“Were you practicing your flying before Halloween?” he smiled as he saw the definite shape of a purple broom on top of a bush. 

“No, Steve, I was just trying to put up my decor,” you tried to hide your embarrassment with a bit of giggling. “Maybe I should’ve asked my parents to leave their ladder the other week.” 

The man looked over at the red curtains, fake spider webs on the window, and gigantic box of fake candles — he smiled at the way you seemed so excited to decorate for the upcoming holiday. Steve didn’t know you, his new neighbour, well. However, your kindness was something he adored to see every time he did get the opportunity to speak to you. Noticing the softness in your eyes every time he offered to help you with your grocery bags, or when he offered you a ride to the bus station, Steve promised himself that he would find a way to see that sparkle as much as possible. 

“You’re really going all out, aren’t you?” he said in a teasing tone. 

“Oh, of course. Halloween is always so fun. But, you should see what I have ready for Christmas,” decorating just always seemed so exciting to you. Yes, maybe you should be saving your money to buy regular things you can use on a daily basis. But, this was way more thrilling.

“Can’t wait, doll,” the nickname made you feel so warm amidst the cool autumn air. “If you’d like, I can hop on over there and help you.” 

Steve looked like he was about to lunge himself to jump the metal gate that separated your balconies, but you stopped him before he could. “There’s a front door for a reason, please don’t join my broomstick down there. What if there’s a huge gust of wind or something?” 

“Fine, fine, I won’t. But that’s mainly because my ladder will be too hard to jump with.” Steve winked.

“You have one?” you gasped and tightened your grip around the railing in excitement. 

“My roommate and I used to do some construction jobs,” Steve shrugged nonchalantly. 

Right, the roommate. 

In truth, that man was the first person you met in the entire building. You had just gotten your keys and were bringing up two suitcases full of your everyday clothing. Right then, a man with crazy hair and even crazier tattoos, that could be seen with his low-cut top, took the elevator with you to the sixth floor. He was about your age, and no matter how much you wanted to say hello to the handsome man, he couldn’t stop staring at you. 

But, not in a menacing, extremely creepy, kind of way — instead, Steve’s roommate looked at you in a sort of shock. It made you believe that he was just an extremely shy guy. You try not to think about the times he and Steve would have friends over and you could hear his deep voice talking about books and mythical creatures, all things that you wished to talk about with someone too. It was not difficult to admit just how badly you craved to have a moment to talk to him. 

“Eddie?” you nearly felt your cheeks explode with heat. 

“Yup, that’s him. You seem to be getting the hang of everyone’s names here, smart girl,” Steve chuckled as he saw the way your eyes darted around from his own eyes then to the floor. 

“Well, he is the only person I haven’t been able to speak to yet.” 

“One day, I promise I’ll get that guy to talk to you.” Honestly, Steve wished that Eddie would stop being so annoying about his bad habit of never talking to you, but always talking about you when you weren’t around. “Now give me a minute and I’ll knock.” 

-:-:-:-:-

And so, after about five minutes of waiting — and you pushing boxes out of the way of the front door so that no one was about to trip whilst finishing up the decorating — Steve appeared with a small ladder that would be the perfect size to hang up all the lights you wanted. The man looked around the interior of your apartment first. It was the same as his, only a lot cleaner, with less pictures of dragons and movie posters on the walls. The young Harrington noticed that you represented just about every haunted creature in your tiny apartment. Even going as far as having all of your horror genre books laid out on the coffee table for guests to read when they desired. 

Although you had only been here for a few weeks, this was already becoming home to you. “Looks like you made this your own little haunted mansion,” Steve teased as he set up the ladder outside. 

“It’s not much, just things to get into the spirit,” you smiled up at him. 

“Now I really gotta put your lights up. It’ll be boring if people are looking into your balcony and there are no decorations,” he chuckled as he looked to the balcony ceiling to see only one candle light successfully hung.  

“Thank you, Steve,” you bit your lip as you remembered all of the hostess manners that your mother engraved into your brain. “Let me at least offer you some coffee, beer — oh, I think I have some cake in the fridge.” 

“No, it’s fine. Just keep me company and that’s all I need. Some eye candy is sweeter than the real thing sometimes.” The man in front of you finished setting up his ladder as he finished speaking those words and winked at you. In truth, you weren’t so sure if the shaking of your legs was due to the cold breeze passing through and under your skirt, or if it was because the wink sent a thousand warm vibrations through your body. Regardless, you didn’t notice the way you squeezed your legs together as you went to the other side of the balcony to finish decorating — and trying to hide your slightly embarrassed face away from the man. 

But, Steve noticed. He noticed it right away, and it only made him wonder just how many times you try smiling to yourself every time your cheeks would feel warm.  

Over the next hour as the sun set, Steve hung up your lights one by one in a cute pattern. He talked about how often his own mother would make him do similar work during Christmas time because he was always home, as opposed to his father. You listened intently as you learned more about your neighbour, all while fixing a few plants and the pillow covers on the small seat on the balcony. Once the sun set a part of you got a little sad because that would mean the work was almost done and Steve would have to head back to his apartment. It was nice to finally get to talk to someone for the first time in weeks. The busy time of unpacking, on-boarding at a new job, and getting used to the new time zone, was over. Now you actually are able to start your life. 

What also made you a little sad was that you would soon need to say goodbye to your neighbour for the night, and try your best to forget about the way the muscles on his arms would flex whenever he would focus on sticking a light to the ceiling. Even making you gasp when his shirt would ride up slightly and the little sliver of his chiseled stomach would tease you. And every time, you would look away immediately, only to cause a hitch in your breathing. 

It would be a lie to say that Steve wasn’t intentionally on a lower step of the ladder because it would force him to flex his muscles a little bit harder in front of you. It would also be a lie to say that Steve wasn’t doing his own little form of spying. He would always glance down to see what you were up to; his favourite moment would be when you would go to sit down and your thighs would be squeezed a bit under your skirt. 

Steve wondered what it would be like to be between them and eat you ou— 

“Would you like a bite?” you whispered, bringing him out of a haze. 

“W-what?” he genuinely thought he was caught in his escapades. 

“Maybe we could order some take out. If you weren’t busy tonight, of course.” The shyness in your eyes and tone made Steve’s heart melt. 

“So pizza, Chinese, or maybe something new in town that you haven’t tried before? Take your pick, sweetheart.” Steve winked as he sat on the little rattan couch you just put pumpkin-themed pillows on. 

The sweet pet names he had been calling you this evening have been making you giggle every time out of pure giddiness. Even as the name slipped from his lips, and his figure sat in front of you with arms spread wide, waiting for you to join him; you prayed that he wouldn’t notice the way you sat to his left with slightly shaky legs in excitement. Truthfully, it wasn’t helping that he put his arm respectfully behind your back and would fix your hair whenever it fell close to your face throughout your next conversations. You felt like you were experiencing your first crush ever, that’s how excited you were. Adding your little delusions of grandeur to the mix, and you were equally as hypnotized with Steve as he secretly was with you. 

It had been so long since someone had taken the time out of their day to slyly flirt with you. Adding the fact that there was a sunset happening from the corner of your eyes, with the lit up candles and slowly appearing stars becoming witnesses to your sweet autumn evening with Steve; it was all aspects to becoming one of your favourite nights to happen since moving in. 

-:-:-:-:-

Once the white cartons full of noodles, fried rice, chicken balls, and steamed vegetables arrived, you and Steve stayed on the balcony to bask in the cool autumn evening. Luckily, you kept blankets nearby for moments like these. So the two of you continued to talk under the coziness of the fluffy fabric and dim lighting of the fake candles. 

Just as Steve finished up his large portion of noodles, he leaned back to stare at the ceiling. “These are really nice. You could be a professional decorator one day,” he teased you. His actions made you mirror his neck movement. 

“As long as I can borrow your ladder then I’ll be set,” you giggled. 

“Or I can always help you out too,” he looked to his left to see the silhouette of your face. The glow from the lights made you look like a beautiful doll. 

“I’ll pay you in Chinese takeout,” a small dimple on your cheek showed your giddiness. 

“Deal,” Steve sat up slightly and turned his body towards you. “Another option would be for you to come to my party next weekend. All my friends will be there and everyone goes all out with their costumes.” 

Just as the words were said, you looked up at him, then to the metal railing behind the rattan couch. It had been placed at the separator between your two balconies. Knowing that you actually made a friend who lived so close to you, caused a warm feeling through your body — one that made you cuddle in deeper with your blanket. “Really? You’d like me there?” 

“Of course. Someone who doesn’t invite their pretty neighbour to a party they’re hosting needs to be out of their mind,” considering that Steve’s roommate has never spoken to you, it could be seen as a miracle to be invited over. 

“Well then it looks like I gotta go through my closet to find a costume,” you smiled. 

The sparkle in your eyes, reflecting the light shimmer of the lights above, hypnotized Steve. “Why do I feel like you already have at least five options in mind?”

“Only three.” 

“Would you tell me?” Steve chuckled at the way you took a bite of egg roll in order to hide your excitement. 

“No, it’s a surprise,” you looked away from your neighbour’s gaze. 

In truth, you had about thirty ideas in mind, but there was no need for your new friend to find out that you had a collection of clothes you bought from the thrift shop — with its only purpose being for last-minute costume parties. Everything from a vampire to a zombie, there were at least enough costumes for everyone in the party in the first place. Admittedly, a part of you wondered what Steve was going to wear. Throughout this evening, you saw the way his muscles were so defined. Even now, as he put an arm on the couch, above your shoulders but not touching them, you wished so badly that he would dress in anything that would show them off. 

God, you really did sound so boy-crazy for your neighbour of all people. 

It really wasn’t helping that Steve brought his arm down slightly to pull you in closer, mentally giving himself the excuse that he wanted to keep you warm. “Then, would you help me decorate?” 

“I knew there was a catch,” you giggled before slapping him lightly on the chest. “But, yes I will. I still have so much decor left in the storage locker from back home.” 

“Just not these lights though. I swear my arms are about to fall off,” the man tensed his shoulders dramatically.  

“Fine, there are probably some sort of easy string lights we could use though. The ones with the little pumpkins are too cute, and maybe —”

“Our friends are gonna love you.” Steve accidentally cut you off by letting his thoughts be heard aloud. 

Anyone from a mile away could see the way the man’s demeanour softened as you spoke. Even his own voice was so soft, yet deep. The sound resonated through your body — causing a few shivers to roll up your spine. The moment anyone hears the way he speaks with you, they’re all going to berate him about it forever. Yet, Steve could already tell that Robin was going to love your excitement about life, or the way Dustin would adore how you listened so intently in any given situation. Well, mostly everyone he knew was talkative anyways, so a good listener was something they all craved. 

“Our?” you asked, tilting your head to the side in slight confusion. 

“Yeah, they’re friends with Eddie too. A bunch of them are driving up from our hometown,” Steve noticed the way you backed away from his body a little, leaning closer to the left corner of the couch. 

“Right, right.”  

“Are you scared of him?” he asked concernedly. “You always seem so shy when he comes up.” 

The way Steve placed a caring hand on your thigh, above the blanket, made your heart flutter. But, you wanted to subdue any thoughts he had towards you disliking his roommate. “W-well, no, not at all. It’s just—”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” 

Well, it’s now or never. Millions of scenarios went through your head — both reality-filled moments, and imaginative possibilities of what you believed Eddie’s ill-fitting thoughts were in that situation. But, would it be polite to even mention your concerned thoughts? What if Eddie found out that you were gossiping to his roommate? That could make the situation worse, making him believe that you enjoyed talking about people behind their backs. 

Alas, you decided to keep it vague. 

“No, uhm, I just don’t think Eddie likes me so much,” you shrugged before smiling at Steve. 

“That’s not true,” he would know. Now would probably be a horrible time to mention the amount of girls Eddie invites over who had similar hairstyles to you; or there was even one time you were wearing a new sweater, and Eddie was able to find someone wearing the exact same one then proceeded to take them out that night. 

The lengths his stubborn roommate would go through astounded Steve. The little gossip fiend within him desperately wished to know your perspective of the curly-haired man. 

“He looks at me all funny when we take the elevator together, or whenever we are in the hallway at the same time,” you pouted. 

“How so?” Steve asked, his arm reaching around you now a little tighter. You savoured the warmth immensely, causing you to lean your head on his shoulder comfortably.  

“There was this one time this girl was in the elevator with me and so I started talking to her since I really loved the purse she had, plus she seemed super nice,” you paused for a moment as you looked up to Steve, almost placing your chin on his side. “She was, by the way.” 

The puzzle pieces were connecting in his head. “Was she the one with the blue streaks in her hair? Kinda tall?” 

A light gasp fell from your lips as you moved away from Steve to have better eye contact. It almost felt like second nature to put your hands on his left thigh as you became more immersed in the storytelling. In truth, the man next to you was about to lose his mind. Just as you found your balance, your right hand was a bit too close to his member. The young Harrington prayed that you didn’t move much more, as your arms squeezing together made your cleavage become more visible as you continued to speak. 

“And then when we got to our floor,” you said after nodding. “She was walking with me and said she was heading in the same direction. So after a few minutes, Eddie opened the door to see what the chatter was all about. H-he looked so mad.” 

“You probably woke him up from his nap,” Steve chuckled at the way your voice became quiet with the last few words. 

“I suppose so. Then I said goodbye to the girl and she went into your apartment with Eddie. The door wasn’t even closed by the time they started — you know — making out.” 

There it was: the confirmation that you and him were definitely thinking about the same girl. But, what intrigued Steve more, was the way a hint of awkwardness and jealousy flashed before your eyes. Then, as you bit your lip, Steve wished so badly to kiss them until they were more plump. 

He really needed to stop himself. 

“Munson must’ve been real stressed that day then. He only calls her up when he is,” Steve leaned his forehead closer to yours. 

“Why would he call up his girlfriend only when he’s in a bad mood?” you couldn’t help but lean closer as you asked the question, completely oblivious to Eddie’s situation. 

“Oh, sweet girl. That is definitely not his girlfriend,” the man chuckled politely as he leaned close to your face.

“But they were —”

You barely got the words out before Steve’s lips bypassed yours. The deep amber notes of his cologne filled the air as his breath tickled your ear sweetly. Just this small movement made you gasp in surprise before smiling to yourself. A pleasurable chill went up your spine as he whispered deeply into your ear. 

“Do you know what friends with benefits are?” He asked, his right hand placed softly on the side of your face. “They just fuck whenever they feel like it. They’re not actually together though.” 

As secretly as you could, you squeezed your thighs together as the words were felt between your legs. Steve’s small touches, his low voice, his soft brown eyes — it all made you want to kiss him so sweetly. There was a part of your brain that craved it, the same part that was imagining what it would be like if he were to lean a little closer and place kisses down your neck. 

And oh, Steve was wondering the same things as you. The way your body was reacting was making him notice how your breathing hitched. His eyes even saw the way your thighs squeezed together. The man wasn’t sure if it was the blanket or both of your beating hearts that made everything feel so warm. 

“Oh, this is my first time hearing about this,” you finally breathed out. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so vulgar,” he smiled as he touched your chin to look at him. 

“No, you weren’t,” you giggled. “I’m still a little confused though. Does Eddie like having sex when he’s in a bad mood?” 

“Don’t you? It brings out the passion in him, I think. Hate sex and all that,” Steve rambled casually. 

You move away slightly to laugh to yourself before looking up at Steve again. “So maybe he doesn’t hate me that much since he doesn’t want to have sex with me.” 

If that’s what you want to believe. 

“Well, I can tell you that he definitely doesn’t hate you in a bad way.” 

“You’re so sweet to me, Steve.” He weirdly knew just how to comfort you, even after only knowing you for a short while. 

“What type of neighbour would I be if I didn’t help you with your worries?” He leaned back slightly and twirled his fingers in the air, symbolizing for you to turn around. So you did, slightly tilting your body and following Steve’s lead to have you lean a bit on his front as he started massaging your shoulders. 

You were so beautiful like this, to the point where the man couldn’t help but be entranced by your delicate skin and soft whimpers of relief as each moment passed. 

Just as much as Steve could tell that his roommate had a schoolboy crush on you, he desperately felt the same way too. The young Harrington was used to girls throwing themselves at him. Especially working the odd job here and there to make ends meet — there was no shortage of new women in his life. Just some flirting with someone at the bar and he could let out all of his pent up energy with someone. In the same way that Eddie had a tendency to go out with people after his shows, the apartment almost always had a guest of some sort. No one could count just how many times a sock on the door was used on a random day of the week, and not a Saturday night like a normal person. However, that all seemed to stop when you moved in. The day you came into town to look at the apartment for the first time, Eddie and Steve were hanging out on their own balcony and heard a soft voice from the slightly open window next door. 

There you were with a sweet smile and soft voice, it seemed to hypnotize both men instantly. After some prying, they found out through the landlord that you were one of ten people who had interest in renting the place next to them. Needless to say, the two men did everything in their power to seem like annoying, loud and obnoxious neighbours — thank God that Eddie’s band was up for the game too and decided to have rehearsal in the apartment for a few days. Slowly but surely, you were the last interested party; the goal that Steve and Eddie were aiming for. When you officially moved in, the playboy days were dwindling down for the roommates. Of course, there was maybe the bi-weekly partner whenever things became really stressful. However, sometimes a right hand and imagination go a long way. At the very least, Steve had more ammo than Eddie, since he actually spoke to you. Eddie just kept to himself about the crush and tried to do everything to forget about you. 

Such a stubborn man , Steve constantly thought. 

In truth, the men were not strangers when it came to sharing a partner or five. They were like a fantasy come to life when some women walked through the apartment doors. Imagine going home with a hot guitarist, only to head to his place and find a muscular pretty boy lounging on the couch in a tight white shirt. Anyone with a sound mind would feel their legs go numb at the thought of taking both men at once. 

Alas, Steve and Eddie were of sound mind as well. They knew that sharing was caring, and if all parties were up for it, then it was bound to be a long and pleasurable night for everyone. 

Currently, it was all up for the younger Harrington to see if you were even slightly interested. And by the way you bit your lip every time Eddie’s name was mentioned, or how your eyes would glaze over every time Steve would unintentionally flex his muscles; he hoped that maybe he would get the chance to place a soft kiss on your lips. Especially since his roommate would not be able to get rid of his stubbornness and make the first move on you.   

“Feels nice,” your voice brought him out of his thoughts. Slowly, your shoulders began to relax beneath his fingertips. “Sorry I kept asking about your roommate’s sex life.” In truth, you felt shy with the fact that you spoke so heavily on such a private matter with someone you barely knew.  

“It’s not a problem at all. You get so cute when an embarrassing topic comes up,” Steve whispered as he got close to your ear whilst massaging you. 

“Honestly, I’ve never really talked about this stuff with other people. Even my ex-boyfriend rarely spoke about it with me,” you said honestly as you closed your eyes.  

“Curious?” 

Softly, Steve placed a kiss on the back of your neck. The small action made you whimper accidentally. It shocked you in the nicest way possible, so much so, that you didn’t think before speaking. “I-I suppose. There are just a lot of things I want to experience but no one to do it with.”

“You don’t need to do it with anyone. You can always have some fun on your own,” Steve teased as his hands went further down your spine to massage you.  

“Oh, I can?” 

With soft eyes, you looked at him over your shoulder. You saw the way there was an intense look behind his gaze — full of fire and lust; it made you bite your lip out of excitement and desperation. Steve’s hands were barely massaging your back now, they were caressing your sides up and down. Every few movements he would brush against the bottom of your clothed-breasts before going back down again. It was causing tingles to vibrate throughout your body. In an instant, Steve kissed your shoulder before looking at you intensely. 

“These walls are thin, baby. I haven’t heard you bring anyone over. A pretty girl in a new city deserves to be taken out on dates. But, most importantly, I haven’t heard you touch yourself since you moved in either,” he teased, his face getting closer and closer to your face with each word. At this point, your lips were barely a centimetre apart. 

“How did you — there’s no time for me to try,” you said honestly with a pout. 

“Aweh, pretty girl is stressed out with everything going on, huh?” he whispered, his breath tickling your nose. 

“Yes, but this makes me feel so good,” you moaned as Steve’s fingers moved down to massage the sides of your thighs. “Do you talk like this to all your neighbours?” 

Steve chuckled as he stopped his movements to look at you with a grin. “Only the most beautiful ones. Especially the ones who want to help with my horrid interior design.” 

“So there really is a catch,” you giggled, hoping that Steve didn’t feel your cheeks warm up as he held your face in his hand. 

This was it, the smile you showed him, the lust in your eyes that increased as time went on, and the way you kept squeezing your thighs together — Steve was about to lose it. In so many ways, everything felt so easy-going with you. He could barely remember a time where he actually enjoyed having a conversation so mundane with anyone. 

“I wanna kiss you so bad,” he thought aloud. 

“Please do.”

With that, both of you leaned forwards to feel the softness of each other’s lips. It was a kiss that was so unchaste that you prayed no one would even attempt to look into the balcony. Goodness knows that there actually is a very religious old lady who lives above you. So a near impossibility floated through your head, wondering if she had the flexibility to use the fire escape. But, that thought easily left your head as you felt Steve’s tongue tease your lips. That, along with his hands roaming your entire body made you moan just enough for him to tease his tongue with yours. 

In truth, you couldn’t handle the angle of twisting your body around, so you moved the blanket slightly before moving your back a little straighter. Steve got the message and moved forwards too, to allow you to be more comfortable as the kiss progressed. After a few moments, he had you lay down on the arm of the couch, secretly placing a pillow above your head in the process. 

You looked so angelic like this. With the light from the fake candles above making you glow from your hair to your eyes to your smile, Steve wished so badly that he was able to capture this moment forever. Even as you slowed down the kiss to catch your breath, the small noises you were making only solidified the fact that he adored this night. Slowly, Steve kissed down your neck, noting the way you whimpered louder when he hit your pulsepoint. When you arched your back, it coincided with the moment the man placed a hand right above your breast. The cold autumn air made your nipples a bit hard, even through the dress you were wearing. As if by instinct, Steve pushed the neckline of the fabric down so that he was able to bare more of your soft skin to the evening stars. 

“Such pretty tits,” he whispered as he exposed your nipples to the cool air. Steve’s mouth began to drool at the thought of putting his mouth on them. “It’s a shame it’s almost winter time and they’re gonna be covered up.” 

“Well, you don’t know my costume yet,” you giggled sweetly as you unknowingly lifted your body up, bringing your breasts closer to his mouth.  

So, the man kissed down your skin, ensuring to linger on his lips in his path. “What’re you gonna be? A bunny? Little puppy?” he teased, placing a chaste kiss onto both of your hardened buds with the final two questions. 

“I was thinking of a pirate. Could be really nice with a little dress and a corset—oh,” you moaned as Steve sucked and bit your nipple. 

“You’ll be the death of me that night,” he whispered onto your chest as one hand moved the blanket to the side and began massaging your bare thighs. 

“Not if you get to me first,” you giggled. The man’s hands were moving further and further up your thighs before it reached a sliver of lace. Desperately, you moved your hips forwards and squeezed your thighs together to give yourself some level of relief. No one has ever dreamed more for someone’s hands to move faster. “What if people see?”

The question filled your mind as the cool air seemed to touch more of your skin. A mixture of hot and cold overwhelmed you now, alongside conflicted feelings about whether or not to ask Steve to bring the activities inside. 

However, if the throbbing between your legs was telling you one thing, it was to please find the climax of your pleasure as soon as possible. 

“We’re on one of the top floors, plus everyone is inside already,” Steve comforted you, moving his body upwards to kiss you sweetly. 

“How about Eddie?” you asked in a whisper. 

“Not home for another hour, I think,” he mirrored the volume of your voice as he continued to kiss your cheek and neck. 

“Oh, alright, keep going,” you smiled whilst helping the man out by lifting the skirt of your dress higher in order to expose more of your thighs to the cool-air. 

Steve nearly came in his pants as he looked down to see the glowing skin. “Yeah?” he teased, biting your ear in the process. 

With one last kiss down your neck, the man next to you looked down to see the way your arousal was seeping through your black lace panties. Even in the darkness of the evening, your thighs were glistening with the wetness that has grown throughout the night. Steve took a moment to capture the image of you squeezing your thighs and rocking them slightly to satiate your desperation, before slowly taking his hand and removing the drenched fabric from you. Once it was off, your pussy began to throb in anticipation as to what was going to happen next. 

You both looked down to see how Steve’s hand slowly made its way between your thighs. He was so easily able to make you bite your lip and look back and forth between his focused face and his large hand. 

“Please, touch me,” you begged sweetly, moving your hips upwards to get his fingers to meet your needy clit. 

“Like this?” the words barely left his lips before he finally touched the wetness between your thighs. He began to massage the little nub in circular movements, then from side to side. Any small touch was enough to make you mewl and lean your head on his shoulder as you moaned in pure ecstasy. “So sensitive, doll.” 

“Feels so nice, Steve. I need more.” Moans and whimpers were releasing from your throat like a song. 

Steve decided on a fast pattern that made you breathe heavily next to him. You were so beautiful like this, so needy and throbbing beneath the evening skies. The cool air made your nipples hard, silently begging Steve's lips to go upon them again. However, he wanted to kiss you first, savouring the way he was drinking up every moan and whimper you were emitting, whilst his other hand went to massage and squeeze your breasts softly. 

It was when the man next to you slowly inserted one finger into your wet hole, that you moaned louder than you have tonight. “I-I-Steve, I really like that,” you whimpered incoherently between kisses. 

“Can I add another one?” he asked with a smile against your lips, but you barely needed to nod before your hips were thrusting themselves upwards in excitement, urging another finger inside of you to stretch you out. 

“More,” you whispered as you arched your back. Steve continued to thrust his fingers deep inside you, his thumb massaging your clit every few movements. He wanted to continue this moment of ecstasy by kissing down your neck and then going to suck on your hardened nipples. 

“You’re so beautiful like this. So wet for me. Look how well you’re taking me.” 

“Your fingers are so much thicker than mine,” you giggled through bitten lips. 

“When was the last time you’ve been fucked, doll?” Steve asked as he looked up at you as he sucked on your left nipple, the most sensitive of the two. 

The question was a simple one, one that embarrassed you quite a bit. But, remembering what it was like to be stretched out, made you throb upon Steve’s thick fingers. Your mind couldn’t stop itself from wondering one thing: what would it be like if the man before you was going to be the one stretching you out. 

Judging by the hardness that he has been sporting for the past little while, you had a pretty good idea. 

“It’s been too long. Months, Steve,” you admitted. “C-can you, please help me?” 

You wished so badly to be more vulgar with your words; however, your brain was so focused on the climax of your pleasure, and the fact that Steve’s fingers were thrusting in and out of you at a faster pace. 

“Not even a toy? Hairbrush? How about using a cute pillow as something to rub your pretty pussy on?” Steve’s perverted mind kept urging him to ask the questions. He noted the way your heat clenched with each word. 

“No, I have no time,” you moaned loudly. This time, Steve kneeled in front of you now, leaving your breasts feeling colder as the wind hit the trail of saliva he left. 

“You poor thing. Well, looks like we gotta find a way to let out all your pent up stress,” he kissed your clit sweetly with the last word. 

The words failed to leave your throat. Instead, a breathy moan escaped instead. Steve began to kiss and lick your sensitive clit as his thick fingers were making their way inside of you. This felt like such a dream. There have been countless nights where you have awoken from a rather active imagination — wondering what it would feel like if your neighbour were to help you release your sexual energy. The dating game has not been extremely friendly to you, and the only person who has come up in your mind as someone who made your legs involuntarily squeeze together, was your neighbour. 

But which neighbour exactly? 

It would be a lie to say that only Steve has been the main focus. Sometimes you have dreamed that it was Eddie thrusting his silver ring-clad fingers inside of you. Maybe it was both of them at the same time. But, good god, Steve was so good that you nearly forgot everything in your brain. His soft lips began to suck on your clit, circling it with his tongue slowly. He noticed how you would clench on his fingers and gush a little more if he sucked hard and moved his fingers upwards. And so, he did it over and over until you were moaning so loud that he could even hear it when your thighs squeezed around his head. 

“You’re so good at this, Stevie. My pussy feels nicer than it ever has,” you thought aloud. 

“And here I thought you were too embarrassed to do it outside,” he winked up at you before going down to kiss your swollen clit. 

“Maybe I’ll use a blanket to cover you up a bit, just in case,” you smiled before putting the warm fabric upon his shoulders. 

“Such a sweet girl,” he whispered onto your clit, with two meanings behind the words. 

Remembering how nice it felt when Steve’s lips and fingers were squeezing your nipples, you mirrored his previous actions with your hands. Thankfully, it added a little bit of warmth to your skin. 

“I-I’m so close, Steve.” 

“Gonna get louder for me, doll? Your noises are so fucking nice.” He started to thrust his thick fingers inside of you faster. He was able to hit a sweet spot that made you cry out in ecstasy.

“Someone might hear, Steve,” you whimpered as you grasped onto his hair with one hand. 

The man looked up at you and winked whilst sucking on your clit. You couldn’t stop staring at the hazel eyes, focusing on them and the pleasure he was able to give you. However, it was when his eyes broke eye contact with you, that your heart dropped to your stomach. 

“It’s a bit too late for that.” 

Fuck. 

The voice was familiar, clouded by a raspiness that made your body shiver. Then, there was the smell of cigarettes lingering in the air that felt comforting to your senses in the cold weather. No matter how much you knew you should turn around and confirm who was behind you, your instincts knew exactly who it was. So you didn’t take your gaze away from Steve, who gave your clit one last kiss before straightening his back — his fingers were still knuckle-deep inside of you. 

“When did you get back?” Steve asked with a tilt to his head. 

“Like five minutes ago. I stopped by the grocery to get eggs and some sliced cheese because we ran out yesterdat,” Eddie said calmly. 

How dare they act so nonchalant as you lay here, extremely exposed to the elements? 

“Thanks, man,” Steve nodded as he took his roommate’s cigarette for a slight puff. His movements made his fingers inside of you twitch slightly 

This made you turn around to see the curly-haired man leaning on the railing that separated your two balconies. He probably hates you so much right now. Every time you two have interacted, it has been moments of silence and awkward stares. This was surely the most awkward situation of them all. Thus, you got some of the blanket to cover yourself up, covering your chest and the top of your thighs. 

For some reason though, everything seemed to excite you. Steve noticed it too, how you were getting wetter and wetter by the second. It made him smirk when he looked down to see your thighs squeezing together slightly. 

“Did you invite more people to the party this weekend?” Steve continued. 

“Nah, I think our guest list is finalized,” Eddie shrugged without breaking eye contact with you. It was you who looked away first. 

“Add in our neighbour here, she said she’ll help us with decorating too,” he added, about to give you the cigarette before you shook your head. 

“Steve,” you whispered annoyedly, your eyes looking between his own and the hand between your legs. 

He got a hint, not the right one, but a hint nonetheless. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Steve simultaneously gave Eddie the cigarette back whilst thrusting his fingers in and out of your throbbing centre. 

It felt so nice that you tilted your head back without realizing you did so. With bitten lips and a slightly frustrated whimper, you were about to respond. Instead, it was Eddie who spoke up first, looking at the both of you. 

“Cool, it won’t be too crowded anyways. Maybe I’ll head out and find a costume,” Eddie said. It would be a lie to say he didn’t glance over to see the glistening arousal on Steve’s fingers. 

“If you see a punch bowl then buy it, I think the one we have broke,” Steve said nonchalantly as he easily brought his other hand to your core and started to circle your clit. 

The pleasure was becoming too much. The sound of both their voices was doing things to your body which were inexplicable. Adding the warmth of the blanket around you, you began to sweat with pure eroticism running through your veins. But, you weren’t about to orgasm in such an embarrassing situation, with a neighbour who always seemed to be on his last nerve around you. 

“I can't do this,” you whispered. Steve stopped his movements and placed his hands on your thighs instead, looking at you with concern. “This is so embarrassing.” 

“Eddie and I have walked in on each other dozens of times, it’s fine, doll.” 

“It’s true,” the dealer admitted. “I’ll leave you two to it.” 

“N-no,” you exclaimed. Closing your legs and turning your body towards Eddie’s. 

Unsure of what came over your body, you bit your lip, looking between the two men. Your entire sex life has been filled with mediocre relations — men who just enjoyed the missionary position more than anything else. Even if you asked for a little bit of a change, the guys would pretend to be up for it. But, in the final minute, claim that the previous actions have worked before, so there was no need to try something new. But right now, your body is on fire in the best way possible. This was a situation that only your imagination could think of. But this wasn’t a fantasy, this was the realest your life has been thus far since moving into this apartment. The throbbing between your legs only solidified your feelings. However, you did want to get something out of the way first. 

“Do you hate me more now?” You whispered to the curly-haired man before you. 

“Why do you say that?” Eddie asked in return, leaning over the railing and placing a hand on your cheek. 

“This is the most you’ve ever spoken around me, a-and it’s such a lewd act I’m in.” The words fell from your lips, tears welling up in your eyes slightly. 

Steve noticed the nervousness exuding from your body, so he slowly drew soft circles on your thighs to comfort you. He knew that Eddie probably had a million thoughts in his head, but he wanted to hear it be said from the man himself.  

“Oh, sweetheart, I don’t hate you,” Eddie wiped a tear from your cheek. “I-I—” 

“Say it, Munson. Admit it already,” Steve teased. Eddie looked at him in a slight annoyance before looking at you again. 

“What does he mean?” You asked sweetly. 

“I-I want you. Fuck , I’ve always wanted you from the start. But you seemed so angelic, so untouchable. It pissed me off that you were so close yet I didn’t have the guts to talk to you.” 

His words shocked you, so much so that you gasped and looked away from him. Your head turned towards Steve who gave you a sweet smile. The men before you seemed to read each other’s minds as they looked at you with a warmth that filled your body. For a moment, you pulled yourself away from Steve’s touch on your legs, and Eddie’s hand on your cheek and sat close to the corner of the couch. In that second of contemplation, you tried to listen to the millions of thoughts running through your brain.  

However, it was Steve whose voice comforted you amongst your thoughts. “Are you alright, doll?” 

All you could do was nod as a response. 

“I’ll be going —” Eddie said as he finished his cigarette and put it out on the ground. 

“N-no, stay here. Please, Eddie.” It came out as a desperate plea. 

“You mean that, sweetheart?” The man asked you. 

With a look in your eyes that told the world that you were so unsure of where the situation would go next, you looked towards Steve, who was kneeling next to you. He smiled at you so sweetly that you brought your face close to his and kissed him chastely. A moment later, you brought your body upwards, blanket still covering you, and sat up near Eddie’s figure. 

“I mean it. I need you, the both of you,” the words were so filled with lust that it shocked the roommates. 

Steve went to stand behind you, a hand grasping your hip and pushing you forwards slightly. With a soft whisper in your ear, he said, “you know exactly what you want to do next, don’t you, doll?” The man winked at his roommate before moving your hair to the side to kiss the back of your neck, his eyes still looking at you and Eddie. 

And so, with a deep breath and a hand on the guitarist's cheek, you leaned forward by merely an inch. There was barely a need to move far as Eddie was meeting your halfway. The smell of tobacco filled your senses for a moment. But then, whether it was a gust of wind, Steve’s kiss upon your neck making you tingle, or you and Eddie’s bodies moving simultaneously — you kissed him. You kissed him so deeply that you moaned into the kiss as if it was something you have been longing for. 

You have. 

So has he. 

So has Steve, but he was going to keep his perverted thoughts to himself for the next little while as he saw the way you were finding pleasure just through kisses. Also, if the way Eddie’s cheeks were blushing with each movement and touch your fingers laid upon his collarbone, he definitely was enjoying this just as equally. 

“Look at you, doll, you look so pretty when you get what you want,” Steve teasingly whispered in your ear. “Needy girl.” 

“Am not,” you pouted as you separated your lips from Eddie’s to look at the man behind you. “I just know what I like,” you giggled. 

Steve chuckled with you as he took his turn to kiss you now. Eddie took the opportunity to jump the railing and find his way to the couch seat next to you. The man pushed the blanket down to expose your breasts to the cool-air again, taking a moment to admire the way they bounced every time you moved your head slightly to deepen the kiss you were sharing with his roommate. 

“Fuck, they’re so perfect,” Eddie whispered loudly to himself. 

“They’re so sore,” you teased, bringing a hand up to squeeze your right nipple. The pleasure from the pinch, as well as Steve’s lips leaving little love bites on the left side of your neck made you moan. 

“Oh, I can definitely help you with that, sweet girl.” After the words left his mouth, Eddie brought himself closer to you. After going to kiss you once and winking at Steve in the process, he dove down to suck on your tits in a motion that caused you to lean forward to feel more of the pleasure. 

You didn’t notice, however, the way your hips were grinding on the squished pillow that found its way beneath your thighs. Steve saw how you were riding your waves of ecstasy with all of the sensations you were feeling. He swears his cock couldn’t handle it now. So much so, that he leaned back from you to stroke his hardness through the fabric of his pants. Even the little bit of pressure made him moan alongside you now. 

The noise made you turn around to see the way Steve’s cheeks reddened as he stared at you and Eddie like his own personal porno. “Having a hard time, Stevie?” Eddie teased between licks to your breasts. 

“Fuck off, man. My doll looks so beautiful like this. I’ve been hard for hours.” 

“Would you want some help with that?” you giggled as you pushed Eddie further onto the couch, nearly laying on top of him. All in order to bend over in front of Steve. 

“Still so wet,” he said deeply, admiring the glistening arousal between your legs and the roundness of your bottom. 

“Please, Steve. Your fingers felt so nice, but I want to be stretched out by something more,” you nearly whined. 

Eddie was kissing your neck now, loving the way your voice sounded when you begged. “Come on, big boy. Looks like our girl can take it.” 

“I’ll take you real nice,” Steve said as he stroked his fingers from your clit to your sopping hole. “Will you tell me if it becomes too much?” 

In truth, this was the most exhilarating your have ever felt during a moment of sexual relations with another man, let alone two. Everything before this was so vanilla, that anything besides the usual seemed scary. However, this didn't. This made you want to experience pleasure whilst giving it simultaneously. Adding the fact that someone may see at any moment was causing waves of thrill and excitement to flow through your being. Steve must have seen the plethora of emotions in your eyes, as he was so hypnotized by them. 

“I promise. Now, please,” you moaned while bringing your butt back to grind on Steve’s clothed-hardness. Even through the layers you could feel the heat emitting from it. 

“Your wish is my command.” With that, he pushed his pants and started to tease your entrance with his tip. 

Although you couldn’t see it as you looked back from your left shoulder, you could tell it was thick. So thick in fact, that even him spreading your folds was enough to make you whimper and giggle. 

“He’s never had a complaint thus far,” Eddie whispered in your ear before kissing you again. 

“Maybe I’ll give a review—oh,” you moaned into Eddie’s lips as Steve slowly entered your throbbing pussy. 

“That’s it, taking me so well,” he said, thrusting into you at a slow but pleasurable pattern. Inch by inch, he swears that heaven was before his eyes. Seeing the way you held onto Eddie’s shoulders with a tighter grip made Steve smile with the amount of ecstasy you were feeling. 

“F-faster, please, Steve. I h-haven’t felt this good in so long,” you nearly began to move your hips to meet with his thrusts. Desperately, achingly, you adored the way his cock felt inside you. Each throb was met with a new inch for you to get used to, and it was the easiest thing to fall in love with. 

Before you could even take a breath after saying a sentence, Steve grabbed your hips tightly and began to rock into you faster and faster. Eddie looked at his roommate with pride, noting how entranced Steve looked as he fucked you deeper and deeper. Then, when the dealer looked at you, and the way you bit your lip and placed your head on his shoulder because of all the ecstasy you were experiencing — Eddie had never thanked the gods of fate more than he was right now. For some reason, he was feeling utterly horny beyond belief throughout the day and promised himself when he got home he would smoke a bit and indulge in some X-rated films and a squishy plastic toy. The fact that he got every green light on the way home, and his parking spot wasn’t taken by the annoying downstairs neighbour; it was like the universe wanted him to be home right on time to get a live show of you and Steve on the verge of fucking. 

Now, as your body squished against Eddie’s, your thighs brushing against his hardness, he swears he could get off on only this. 

“Can I suck you off, Eddie?” The words brought him out of his thoughts. 

They were the best words to do so, too. 

“Oh, my darling. You seem to be enjoying Stevie over here,” he kissed you as you moaned loudly, wanting to drink up your sounds. 

“But, I need you too. My mouth feels s-so lonely.” You pouted as you brought your left hand down to place a trail of light touches from Eddie’s neck to his stomach then to his bulge beneath his jeans. 

“He’s big, doll. Are you sure you can take our two cocks?” Steve leaned down to whisper in your ear as he continued to thrust into you. 

“Yes, I can. I promise it’ll be alright,” you whimpered as you felt Steve throbbing within you, before turning your face to pout and say: “he’s so hard too.” 

With a grip to Eddie’s hardness below, you stroked it through the denim to emphasize your point. When you finally got a moment to breathe, you looked down to see just how thick — and maybe even longer — Eddie was in comparison to his roommate. Just like Steve was doing before, you slightly drooled and looked at the rockstar’s member with hypnotized eyes. 

“It’s a dream come true. Isn’t that right, Munson?” Steve teased as he went to straighten his back and continue thrusting into you. 

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently. In truth, the possibility of Eddie dreaming about this moment made you clench slightly; the younger Harrington definitely felt it. 

“I mean — fuck — he’s been waiting for you, doll.” 

“Harrington, I swear to god,” the other man said through clenched teeth, due to both the pleasure of your hands and his roommate’s annoying mouth. 

“Have you dreamed about me, Eddie?” You looked at the man in question now whilst biting your lip. “Pictured me just like this: fucked out in front of you?” 

This was a look that neither man has seen in your eyes before: one that was filled with lust and teasing. Every time before this, you had such a serene and sweet look behind your eyes, with the remnants of a smile always lingering on your face. But this, this was as if you were a succubus on earth for the two roommates before you. The drool dripping from your lips was enough to solidify that thought. “Every night,” Eddie grunted. 

“Your cock is so long,” you said with a whimper. “May I?”

“Please,” Eddie was able to say in his haze, right before you started to unzip his pants slowly. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me.” 

The words made you throb harder on Steve’s cock as he thrusted into you, making you imagine the moment when the two roommates would switch places. The younger Harrington was staring at you both like he was watching his favourite film come to life. Even the words you were saying were right out of an erotic movie he saw the other day. 

“Can I ride you one day?” You whispered to Eddie, kissing down his shaft slowly. 

“You’re so needy,” Steve grunted. “Just the thought is making your pussy throb on me — unh, fuck ,” he moaned. 

It’s true, getting a taste of Eddie made you throb slightly at pleasure of it all. Especially once you started to lick the head, tasting the precum and hearing the guitarist moan above you, you felt yourself throb around Steve harder and harder. 

“Sweetheart, are you gonna be our good little fuck toy?” Eddie asked once you started to envelop your lips around his cock.

The image of you looking up at him and drooling over his hardness will be something ingrained in his mind forever. Then the humming got louder and louder as you nodded, causing vibrations to flow through Eddie’s cock. It felt so good that he tilted his head back slightly as you moaned on him, the warm and sucking sensation only making him get closer to the edge. After a moment he looked down to see that the source of your mouth’s vibrations weren’t just due to the fast pace Steve was thrusting into you; but it was also the fact that younger Harrington also was reaching down to circle his fingers in your clit. 

You were so overwhelmed with pleasure that your hands took over now to squeeze Eddie’s hardness, all so you could whimper and moan loudly for both men to hear. 

Here’s hoping the neighbours won’t complain tonight. 

“Your mouth is so good, you know that?” Eddie said in a tone deeper than usual. 

“I can take you deeper, use my throat, Eddie,” you looked up at him whilst moving your hips to meet with Steve’s. The pleasure was overtaking all of your bodies now. 

“I wanna see you cum while you’re sucking my cock, can you do that for me?”  

“Y-yes,” you nodded quickly, your hand stroking him faster out of pure eagerness.  

Eddie smiled, nearly sinisterly. “Can you do that for me, Harrington?” 

“We both know I can,” Steve grunted, moving faster into you. 

In truth, he was so happy that Eddie said those words. Steve swears he was about to combust at any moment, but he was just waiting for you to find the climax of your pleasure. He was only praying that he would last longer. However, with the way you were throbbing so beautifully on him, nearly glowing with ecstasy, Steve wanted to see the climax of it all. “That’s it, pretty girl,” Steve teased, he knew exactly what you needed to bring you closer and closer to the edge. “You look so pretty with two cocks in you. This is what you wanted, huh?” 

“Yes, yes, every night I think about it,” a loud groan fell from your lips as you responded, Steve’s cock hitting you from an angle that was hitting your sweet spot over and over. Then, Eddie was the one who felt the remnants of your pleasure — with your hands and mouth going back to milking his own hardness in the process. 

“Looks like we’re all on the same page. The amount of times I’ve imagined fucking you on this balcony. You look so pretty when you’re reading here in your little shorts.” 

Who knew the exhibitionist bug within Steve rubbed off on you in more ways than one? 

“Keep going, Steve,” Eddie moaned as he gripped your hair with his right hand. “I think she’s close. Sweetheart loves to hear how pretty and fuckable she is.” 

“Feels nice,” you whispered quickly before going back to suck harder. 

“Oh yeah? You should hear about Eddie’s little escapades about you, doll.” 

All you could do was tilt your head whilst The guitarist was still inside your mouth. Eddie got the hint as he looked into your eyes, his hardness thrusting deeper and deeper into your throat slowly as he spoke. “Every time I see you in the hallways I swear I can’t control myself. I feel like such a perv with the dreams that float through my head.”

The man barely had a moment to savour the feeling of being fully into your mouth now, because you released him quickly to tease. “Wanna make them come true one day?” You asked with a wink. 

“One of them already is, sweetheart,” Eddie smiled, noting the way your legs began to tremble as Steve continued to circle your clit again whilst hitting the soft spot within you with his cock. 

“Now how about you cum for us to really make this dream one to remember?” the man behind you said.  

“Faster,” you nodded, accepting his challenge. 

“Good girl.” 

The words were echoing through the air, but you weren’t sure who said it. In truth, it could have been both of them. The roommates were so prone to playing off of each other, seeing what exactly the third person liked and enjoyed. Most of them adored it when one of them was sweet whilst the other was slightly degrading. Some wanted them both to be a little mean. But then there was you, who enjoyed the feeling of being praised and teased like such a good girl for them. So with the words echoing in your head, of different compliments which bordered the line of perversion each time — you swear that the pleasure you’ve been feeling had been turned up a thousand times. On one hand, Steve was doing such a good job on you: thrusting back and forth into your throbbing hole, whilst bending down to circle your nub. The stretch was everything you needed after such a long time of being single and busy with life. From behind you, he would whisper just loud enough for you to hear. 

“Such a sweet girl for me, huh? So tight and wet for us,” he would chant like a prayer — a prayer to the gods who were probably looking down upon this scene from the starry sky. Steve was nearly thanking them for putting him in this moment where he was able to see how you nodded in response upon Eddie’s cock, and then feeling your pussy throb below as you reacted to the little compliment. 

Then, there was Eddie, who was doing such a wonderful job stroking your hair lovingly as you looked up at him. Now it was your turn to give the pleasure, noticing how Eddie would thrust his own hips upwards into your mouth every time you squeezed his balls with the right amount of pressure. He also adored the way your moans would vibrate through his own body every time you felt good. So the guitarist used his skilled fingers to reach down and use one hand to twist your lonely nipples. The way you would moan and whimper was felt on him ten-fold. With a light grip on the side of your hair, he would help you swallow more and more of his cock: his main goal wanting to feel your ecstasy. 

“If we knew you were so horny, these holes would have had a lot of fun by now,” Eddie teased as he saw your eyes start to roll back a little. “Come for us, sweetheart.” 

With that, Eddie looked at the way you nodded up at him with pleasure-filled tears in your eyes. Your climax was so close now as your moans became louder and the grip on Eddie’s shaft tightened. 

Eddie looked up at Steve with a smile, knowing that his roommate was close to the edge as well. And so, Steve circled your clit faster and faster — the movement making your pussy throb. It wasn’t until you gave one hard suck on Eddie, tasting his cum, while Steve massaged your nub at the right angle that it happened. You felt the orgasm take over your entire body in an instant; it was like a vibration that you didn’t know how to control. It was evident to everyone on the balcony that your climax was extremely overwhelming. You were arching your back more, creating another angle for Steve to thrust into you. All while you had to let go of Eddie, who was inside of your mouth, in order to release your moans to the world. Your hands continued to stroke his hardness until you saw that his hot tip was ready. With a slightly open mouth, you looked up at the man to show him you were ready to taste his cum too. 

“Are you boys gonna cum for me too?” You teased sweetly. It was enough for both men to finally let go from the pent up ecstasy they were feeling. 

You were so beautiful, taking the creamy liquid everywhere. Moans filled your ears as both men thrust deeply inside of you; at the same time, you were being filled from two different holes as the men fell deeply in love with the feeling of your warmth. For all three of you to ride out your orgasms so sweetly, was the most erotic part of it all. With the situation nearly looking like it was out of a painting as all three of you took a few moments to bask in the evening breeze, a blanket intertwined between your bodies, and sweat glistening upon your skin. 

Both men looked at you with adoration, noting how you were glowing as you relaxed your body. Just as Eddie pulled out of your mouth first, grabbing one of the leftover napkins from dinner to wipe away at your mouth, he noticed how you had swallowed nearly all of it. 

You really were such a good girl , he thought but didn’t say aloud as he wiped your mouth that was covered in saliva. 

Then, Steve took his softening cock out of you, taking a moment to admire the creamy fluid in between your legs. He pushed your skirt down to cover you up and whispered,  “are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, thank you, Steve.” Your voice was tired out — mainly from all the moaning and whimpering you were just doing. The serene sound will never leave the men’s thoughts. 

“I hope we weren’t too rough on you,” Eddie sweetly chuckled whilst pulling you up to move your body and have you sit comfortably on the couch. 

“Not at all,” you giggled sweetly as you sat closer to the guitarist. “It was quite fun.” 

The giddiness in your voice was apparent as you smiled to yourself. Steve adored how you became slightly shy, even after all of the lewd acts you three have committed on this balcony. He would do anything to continue seeing the heat rush to your face, even in the coldest of weather. Just as he sat down on the couch, leaving you in between both men, Eddie continued to tease. 

“Yeah? Looks like we gave you a nice housewarming gift.” 

“Maybe we gotta christen every part of the apartment — it would only be right,” Steve said whilst smoothing the blanket over your thighs. 

“Is he always this kinky?” You questioned towards Eddie now, with a chuckle in your voice. 

“Oh yeah, sometimes if I know he invited this one girl over, I don’t go to the apartment for a few days so the smell of sex can leave the air,” Eddie groaned jokingly, putting an arm around you. 

Honestly, you do remember the way you heard a patterned noise that sounded really similar to a headboard hitting a wall, alongside moans and laughter. Your innocent mind genuinely thought that Steve was watching a funny movie with a date — not, well, you know . “That explains why you didn’t come the other weekend. I thought you hated me. Who knew it was because Steve is so horny.” 

“Hey, I didn’t bring you two together to gossip about me,” Steve gasped in disbelief as he saw the way you and Eddie had quickly gotten past the phase of awkwardness.  

“But it’s fun,” you pouted, moving over so your cheek could rest on Steve’s broad shoulder. 

“There’s definitely something more fun than this that I could think of,” Steve teased, looking in his roommate’s direction 

“Maybe we could —” you paused as you looked between both men, fearful that you looked too eager. 

But, they seemed to admire the excitement in your eyes, looking at one another before focusing their gazes on your figure which was sinking into the couch. A teasingly sinister smile crept up on Eddie’s face as he touched your thigh softly. “We could do what, sweetheart?” 

“Maybe we can head inside? It’s so cold now,” you giggled, shivers running through your body. 

Luckily for you, warmth ran through your body, shooting straight to your heart amongst the cool autumn breeze overtook your senses now. No other moment in your life has ever made you feel so exhilarated like this. Just as Eddie placed a chaste kiss on your lips, whilst Steve teased his mouth over your neck — a million thoughts ran through your brain. Then, when you felt a hand reach under the blanket and touch the soft skin of your thighs, one thought became louder than the rest: 

Maybe, just maybe, moving into a new apartment during the month of October was a good idea after all.

-:-:-:-:-

#my writing #writing #st fanfic #st fanfiction #fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #LazyGhoulsKinktober2023 #fluff #fluff and smut #steve harrington x f!reader #afab reader #just the tip #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #my fic #writing prompt #steve harrington #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie lives

[omgrachwrites]

One of The Lads - Sirius Black

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: swearing and fluff!!

Request: Could I get au number 8, for secret relationship with Sirius black and female reader? Where maybe they’re only secret because she’s like the pet of the friend group to everyone with how like silly she is and no one really expected the 2 of them, lots of fluff please 🙏 and only if you want to ofc, take it easy and don’t rush! Thank you for consideringggg🧡🧡 - @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader

A/N: Thanks so much for requesting love! I hope everyone enjoys, I love you all very much! xxx

It was a wet and dreary day in October, the enchanted ceiling overhead was exceptionally dull with dark grey clouds floating in the centre, that looked to burst at any moment. The bad weather seemed to have an impact on some of the Hogwarts students, not you though, you loved weather like this.

Although long, summer days were glorious, sometimes you yearned for the cold weather when you could wrap up in your fluffy coat and scarf. Weather where you could all rush to Hogsmeade, finding shelter and warmth in a corner The Three Broomsticks, laughing and joking over a pint of Butterbeer before wandering back to the castle in the dark, you way lit only by a couple of streetlamps.

Remus tried to give you an unimpressed look but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried not to laugh when another marshmallow hit him between the eyes, “Jesus, Y/N! You’re the best seeker that we’ve had in years, how can you not land a marshmallow in a giant mug,” he laughed as he gestured to his enormous mug of hot chocolate.

You pulled a face at him, “I can catch things well enough, I just can’t throw them,” you proved your statement as you lobbed another marshmallow and it completely missed its mark as it flew past Remus’ shoulder and hit someone on the back of their head.

“What’s going on here?” Sirius laughed as he finally joined the breakfast table, “it looks like a marshmallow factory has exploded,” his voice was rough from sleep and his hair was a little messy as he ran a hand through it.

You were momentarily speechless as you gazed up at him, your mouth slightly open, in your opinion he looked the most handsome after just waking up. You and Sirius had been dating for a couple of months. In complete secret. You had even hidden it from your best friends, not for any malicious reasons of course, you didn’t know how they would take it. Dating within the friendship was some sort of forbidden unspoken rule.

“Y/N, is being a pain in the arse,” Remus grinned at you.

You gasped, pretending to be offended, “I’m a delight.”

Remus rolled his eyes as he looked at his best friend, “she can’t get a marshmallow into my mug, embarrassing really,” he joked, immediately contradicting his words as a marshmallow soared into the mug, making a tiny splash.

James, who had been watching let out a weak cheer, “finally. That was fucking painful to watch,” he smirked as you gave him the finger.

Sirius grinned at you as he sat next to you, his little finger linking with yours, his way of saying I love you when he couldn’t say it out loud. You smiled back as you linked your fingers together.

As you, Remus and Sirius walked down to Potions, you could see James once again, trying his hardest to chat up Lily Evans. To be fair, this year she seemed to hate him less, James’ head had really deflated in size and he was much more likeable. Lily caught your eye over James shoulder and she rolled her eyes with a grin before trying to look like she was interested in whatever James was saying.

You smirked at the couple, wanting to get James back for what he said at breakfast, and you did just that. Taking your wand from the inside of your robes you subtly pointed it at James’ bag, muttering a spell. A quiet ripping noise and a louder crash echoed through the corridors of the dungeons as the seams on James’ bag was pulled apart and his belongings went crashing to the floor. James let out a very high pitched yelp as he scrambled to pick his stuff up, his glasses falling down his nose and his cheeks flushing.

Your face must have given you away because he shook his head and slung an arm over your shoulders as you all walked into the classroom. He glared at you but when he spoke you could hear the laughter in his voice.

“That was so mean.”

You laughed as you looked up at him, “you still love me though, right?”

He groaned “yes, I do,” he replied reluctantly.

More of your silliness ensued while you were making your potion, you were all brewing an Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Unfortunately, it seemed as though you had put in too much of one ingredient and not enough of another, which resulted in the effects being too strong, reducing you and your friend Alice into fits of silent giggles. Slughorn looked up at you both, shaking his head.

Finally, it came to yours and Sirius’ free period so you were sitting down at the deserted boat house, Sirius was sitting behind you with his arms wrapped around you as he placed sweet kisses on your cheek. You hummed as you leaned back into him and you felt him smile against your skin. There was nothing but the sound of the howling wind and the rippling of the water before Sirius spoke up.

“I want to tell people we’re dating.”

You tensed up in his arms and glanced at him over your shoulder to find him grinning at you but his grey eyes held a look of vulnerability, “you do?”

“Yeah, I know you’re not big on the idea.”

You sighed, “I want to tell people Sirius, I do,” you hesitated, “but I mean, I’m not exactly your type am I?”

Sirius frowned, a crease forming between his eyebrows, “you’re beautiful, smart and funny. Exactly my type,” he kissed you gently.

You flushed at his words as you fiddled with the ring that he wore on his thumb, “everyone sees me as just ‘one of the lads’ though, they’d be weirded out if they found out we were together.”

“Our friends would want us to be happy, Y/N.”

You knew he was right, of course he was right. You guys had the best friends in the whole world who would be happy for you. Finally, you nodded, “okay. Let’s tell them.”

After classes were over, you both walked into the dormitory, hand in hand and found your friends sitting by the fire, “we have to tell you guys something,” Sirius spoke up.

Remus smirked as he pointed at your joined hands, “is it something to do with that?” his words caused you and Sirius to exchange a look.

James’ eyes widened slightly, “wow, I never would have thought of you guys as a couple,” your face dropped at James’ words and you exchanged another nervous look with Sirius.

“What do you mean by that?” you whispered, bracing yourself.

“Well, he’s infuriating enough as a best friend, never mind a boyfriend. You’re a saint, Y/N,” James joked and you let out a relived sigh, “I’m really happy for you guys.”

“Me too,” Remus grinned as Sirius turned to give you a little kiss.

“C’mon, I snuck into the kitchens and stole some Firewhiskey, let’s celebrate,” James picked up a bottle of amber liquid, shaking it with a suggestive look on his face.

#sirius black #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans #fluff #one shot #the marauders era #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders era

[albaskies]

And if I didn't know better

Or: One evening, Ginny reflects on her choice to step up for Teddy, while trying to navigate her grief for the loss of those who never could. Read here or on AO3:

She isn’t quite so sure what made her decide to step up for a child when she was hardly an adult herself. Not that she’d done much at first - she’d barely ever been there during the first year of his life, and she’d only gathered the courage to rock him to sleep a few months after she’d moved back home. It was more of a feeling, as if she’d accepted the responsibility deep in her heart before she could even trust her own limbs to hold him properly. 

It feels like a lifetime away, now, as his little body is curled up against hers and his turquoise hair shines in the dim candlelight. They lay on several cushions and blankets scattered on the floor; an old white sheet stuck on four chairs hanging on top of their heads, covering the ceiling. They’ve built a fort, you know. Right after playing dragons and running around on invisible broomsticks (‘Feet on the ground, Teddy, please’). All in their living room, all after having dinner. 

Harry’s sent word that he’ll be home late - problems at the office. He sounded very disappointed to miss out on having Teddy over for the night, one of his favourite weekly activities. He usually sleeps over on Fridays, but they might have to switch it to Saturdays if Harry keeps on getting held back at work.

Ginny is seriously doubting that her strategy to try and wear Teddy out before bedtime has been effective, as Teddy’s eyes are still wide open and shimmering with energy. The cup of warm milk she’s offered him hasn’t quite done the trick, now left unfinished and forgotten on the floor right next to him. But then again, Teddy’s undergoing that toddler phase where nothing in the world can get him to wind down unless he decides to, thank you very much. How did Hermione call him? A threenager? Where did she even hear such a ridiculous thing?

She looks down at him again, as he has started to move his tiny hands and notice the corresponding shadow movements reflected on the sheet. His expression is full of wonder, not a care in the world, and she’s so grateful for the look in his eyes (and, yes, for the rare moment of quiet as well) that she feels her heart could explode.

‘Look, Teddy,’ she says, joining her thumbs and wiggling the rest of her fingers. ‘Isn’t that an eagle? Oh my, how did it get here?’.

Teddy squeals with laughter, unable to contain his excitement - the sweetest sound in the world.

‘Again, Ginny, again!’.

She regrets it, to have hesitated back then. It’s not that she didn’t care for him when he was a baby - quite the contrary, actually. She’d known she loved him so much since before he was even born; that one Christmas morning when Tonks had grabbed her hand and had gently placed her on her pregnant tummy.  But she was scared, terrified of messing it all up, of not being good enough. She still is sometimes - she’s just learned to cope with it better, or maybe to hide it better. She reckons that nobody really knows how to deal with a child from the beginning, especially when it’s not their own; and they are all a bit broken now anyway. But it doesn’t really matter, does it, as long as they’re there for each other, as long as Friday nights are still about dragons, invisible broomsticks and animal shadows on a fort sheet ceiling.

.

Harry had dived into the role with all his seriousness and solemnity because, well, what else do you expect. He’d tried so hard to get Teddy to like him from the start, as if there could ever be the risk that he wouldn’t. He’d show up to Andromeda’s house bearing so many gifts that she’d had to beg him to stop once and for all, for the love of Merlin. 

‘I just want to do something nice for him, you know,’ he’d told Ginny later, his brows furrowed and his glare focused on his tea mug.

‘But you already do,’ she’d said, her hand gently squeezing his thigh. ‘You’re there for him. That’s as nice as it gets.’

She could tell she hadn’t fully convinced him, just as she knew that he hadn’t been exactly truthful either. He wanted to do something nice for Teddy, sure, stepping in those daunting godfather shoes as smoothly as possible. But he wanted to do something nice for himself too, for his much younger self, trying to give away all the love and attention he’d been missing all his life. And she couldn’t really blame him for that, now, could she.

‘Gin,’ he’d murmured, his whisper almost pleading. ‘I don’t think I know what I’m doing.’

She’d moved her hand from his leg to his jaw, resisting the urge to cut him off with sarcasm, ‘Have you ever, though.’

‘Nobody asks that of you right now, Harry. You’ll figure it out.’

He looks at her, still unconvinced. ‘But Tonks and Lupin -’

‘No,’ she’d shushed him, gently pressing a finger on his lips. ‘Not even them.’

That’s the thing - nobody had asked her to, either. And it’s not that she’d felt compelled to act as an unofficial godmother only because of her relationship with Harry. He’d certainly never expected that of her. 

She’d felt hurt when her mum had implied that once. As if that ring that Harry had placed on her finger dictated all of her choices, as if she had to have a reason to desire to care for Teddy. As if she hadn’t known Tonks and Lupin, too. 

No, Teddy's become part of her life because of a very careful and important choice she’s made. It has been so incredibly natural, and it has required quite some effort, both at the same time. But it’s always been there, no matter what. 

There hasn’t been a single Quidditch match she’s played without looking for him and Harry in the stands; there hasn’t been a single house she and Harry have looked at without thinking about what room could become his for when he stays over. There hasn’t been a single time she hasn’t thought of him when looking at the clear blue sky.

.

‘And what about this?’, she asks him, still twisting her hands to give life to dark shapes on the sheet.

Teddy lets out a sweet chuckle. ‘A rabbit!’.

‘Good job, Teddy!’’ 

He claps his hands in excitement and his hair seems to have become an even brighter shade of blue.

‘More, more!’

‘Let’s see. What about…’ Ginny says, continuing to move her fingers. ‘This?’

He seems to think about it for a second, squeezing his eyes, wrinkling his nose. Then he beams.

‘A wolf!’

A beat.

‘Er - no, it’s a dog -’

‘No, it’s a wolf!’

‘Teddy -’

And before she knows it, he starts howling. 

‘Wolves aren’t scary, Ginny! You shouldn’t be scared!’

She looks at him in horror. Total panic. Her mind blacked out. That’s the one thing she hasn’t brought herself to do with Teddy yet - talking about his parents. Or even mentioning them, to be frank. She’s quite selfishly left that to Harry, because what does she know about this stuff, he’s a child, she doesn’t want to mess it up for him. She’s quite sure that she would, if she tried. She can’t even think straight after he’s seen the shadow of a wolf rather than a dog, after all. What a stupid way to react to a child acting his age, playing and having fun. Stop this. Don’t be a git, please stop this.

It’s almost as if Lupin and Tonks never enter the bubble that she creates when she’s with Teddy - which is absurd, nonsensical, completely idiotic. But,  well - her insides knotting in guilt at the mere thought - it’s easier this way. She feels ashamed of herself, absolutely fucking revolted. Now that he’s inadvertently brought it up though, a three-year-old braver than she’ll ever be, and he’s opened Pandora’s box (some famous Greek witch, she reckons), she's at a loss for words. It’s so subtle that she should just let it slide - she must, actually. He hasn’t even asked her anything, he hasn’t even made the connection. He doesn’t even know. 

Her mind is racing out of control and he hasn’t even done it on purpose. She’s the one who’s acting like a lunatic. She doesn’t know why she feels like she should say something, doesn’t even know what, because it would all sound wrong anyway.

You know, Teddy, she almost hears herself saying, but you know, Teddy, what exactly? Why can’t she get this thought out of her head? He’s blissfully unaware, and he’s just a child that is playfully pretending to be a wolf, what the hell wrong with you, Ginny, pull yourself together. 

She continues spiralling as she notices that he’s stopped howling, and is now observing her with curiosity. 

Fuck, you’re going to traumatise him, aren’t you. 

As she looks at him more closely, she notices that his eyes, that have been blue like his hair for months now, have now turned darker - a warm, chocolaty brown. And instead of feeling even more horrified, she simply calms down, her panic gone.

Funny how Lupin can offer her comfort even in death.

.

She is staring at the empty desk in front of her. The bell has rung and all her classmates have left already, but somehow she can’t bring herself to get out of the classroom and head to lunch. Not yet, because she is staring at the empty desk in front of her so intensely, almost as if she could get it to talk to her. She remembers sitting there, less than a year ago, just before her memory had gone blank into one of her many blackouts. She remembers opening her diary on her lap, bored to death at the sound of Professor Lockhart’s pompous voice, she remembers jotting down a few thoughts pretending to be taking notes. Then she remembers a voice, his voice, and nothing more. Maybe if she stares at the desks hard enough, it will come back to her, maybe she will remember how she got from the classroom to Hagrid’s shed and then back to the castle again… 

‘What are you still doing here, Ginny?’.

She blinks once, and then once again, trying to bring Professor Lupin’s greyish frame into focus. She isn’t sure since when he’s been sitting on the chair in front of her.

‘Are you looking for something?’, he asks, watching her carefully. She must look rather lost, because he quickly adds: ‘You did well in class, today.’

‘I - er, no - I mean, thanks,’ she blurts out. His dark brown eyes are still focused on her, studying her in detail.

She clears her throat, as if to gather her courage. There is something she’s been wanting to ask him, actually, but she isn’t even sure that she should bring it up. Percy has made it clear that she shouldn’t talk about it with anybody, but Percy doesn’t really understand what it feels like, doesn’t it? To lose control, to not know.

‘I suppose you were wondering what happened on the train a few days ago?’, says Professor Lupin bluntly, as if it’s the most obvious thing on the planet.

‘How do you -?’

‘You wouldn’t be the first to ask.’

As she observes him a little more closely than ever before, she realises he must be much younger than he looks. He has a few grey locks of hair here and there, his face is tired and emaciated, but he doesn’t have wrinkles around his eyes and mouth like her dad. 

He smiles, encouragingly. She clears her throat again. 

‘My brother Percy’s told me about the Dementors,’ she mutters, her glare back on the desk. ‘I know they make people feel bad. It’s just -’.

She suddenly hears it again, that low, yet so familiar voice, telling her she should not be frightened. Then flashes of light, blood, screams, and her clothes are unexplainably damp. 

She shivers, subtly patting her robes. She’s fine. She’s fine.

‘I did some things last year,’ she hears herself say. She doesn’t even know how she’s managed to gather enough strength to.

‘I just fear - well, I guess I worry that the Dementors will make me do them again.’

Professor Lupin falls silent for a few seconds. He continues to watch her, but has now stopped smiling.

‘From what I’ve heard, you haven’t chosen to do any of those things.’

He’s heard, then. She doesn’t wonder why - she reckons stories must travel fast among Hogwarts staff, too.

She would normally be ashamed, but now she can’t help but feel a hint of relief, stemming from Merlin knows where. After all, yes, he’s heard, but he’s still talking to her like she isn’t any different; he’s heard, and he’s still offered her chocolate. 

‘Don’t worry, Ginny, Dementors can’t make you reenact your bad memories. They surely make you relive them, though,’ he furrows his brows, as if an unexpected thought has suddenly crossed his mind. ‘Do you - er - have enough support here?’

She’s taken aback by this question, shame creeping on her cheeks. ‘I’ve got four brothers here,’ she quickly responds, but she knows that this isn’t what he means. She sighs. He seems to understand.

‘I’m working on it,’ she sputters, defensively. ‘It’s not exactly easy to make friends when all the girls in your dormitory think you’re a freak.’

It comes out spontaneously, but she immediately regrets using that tone with a professor. However, to her great surprise, he bursts into laughter.

‘I guess you’re right,’ he says, throwing her an enigmatic look. ‘But believe me when I say that friends are the most precious gift that Hogwarts can give you. Real friends will help you overcome all the hard times; and if they think you’re a freak, well, they’ll choose to be freaky with you.’

He stops smiling, suddenly looking rather thoughtful, but then quickly shakes his head. Somehow, she ends up with the strange feeling that he’s no longer having this conversation only with her.

‘Might I suggest,’ he adds, now back to his reassuring tone. ‘That you perhaps try to talk to other students that might have had - how to put this - a similar experience to yours? Harry’s a good friend of your brother’s, isn’t he?’

She feels it coming - the blush. One of the big ones. One of the bad ones.

‘No! I don’t think -’, she hisses, suddenly horrified, redder than she’s ever been in her life. ‘I don’t think that would work.’

He raises his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth slightly twitching.

‘Well, you never know,’ he states matter-of-factly. He then stands up, patting his hands on his legs. ‘But now I must really let you go. I wouldn’t want you to feel unwell during your next class because you haven’t had any lunch.’

She nods, grabs her things, mutters an awkward ‘Thanks’. Just when she’s about to leave, she hears him speak again.

‘It may be hard to understand now, but what happened to you doesn’t define you. Please, don’t ever forget that.’

It’s true, she doesn’t understand that quite just yet, but she will remember those words for the rest of her life.

For now, she’s busy spending the next few days ridiculously terrified by the thought of Professor Lupin telling Harry about their conversation. She imagines Harry looking at her with pity, disgust even, as a stupid little girl who can’t bring herself to make some friends. But this doesn’t happen - Harry barely ever looks at her, and when he does he seems, well, normal. She’s quite glad of that, for one. She’s also so incredibly glad that Professor Lupin respected her enough to keep her secret, that he could be trusted.

Years later, she’ll regret never having told him that she and Harry had fallen in love. She’ll reckon he would’ve liked to know that, he might have even been delighted. She’ll figure, as a punch in her stomach, that she’d assumed they’d have more time.

.

‘You know what, Teddy, you’re right,’ she finally says, gently stroking his hair. ‘Wolves aren’t scary.’

He beams, looking rather satisfied with her answer, and pulls up his back to sit against a big pillow.

‘Let’s play another game!’

Ginny sighs at his never ending source of energy; her hopes that relaxing under the fort would somehow make him drowsy are completely shattered. She quickly glances at the clock on the wall - if Andromeda finds out that Teddy's been up so late, she’ll never hear the end of it.

‘Time out, Teddy,’ she says, faking a yawn. ‘We should really go to bed now.’

Teddy frowns, pouting his lips and wrinkling his little nose.

‘What if we read the story of Babbity Rabbity?’, she then intervenes tentatively, hoping to jump in just in time to prevent a tantrum. ‘Come on, you love Babbity Rabbity…’

But Teddy isn’t having it. He shakes his head fervently, now crossing his arms.

Ginny wonders if this is the time to be a bit more assertive with him, if she could dare, even. Sometimes she feels like she’s still tiptoeing around him - she’s the one giving him all the fun and games, but when it comes to discipline, she finds that she’s quite rattled. He’s not her child, after all; she fears it’s not her place. Most of the time, she finds herself wondering how Lupin would deal with his son’s tantrums; she would love to see what Tonks would do. She reckons she would do anything to learn a bit more about parenthood from them both, even though (and to only remotely fathom this, her heart sinks) they haven’t had the chance to be parents for long. They would’ve been brilliant at it, though - this is merely her fantasy, sure, as she actually doesn’t know. Tonks and Lupin will remain fundamentally pure in her memory, because she doesn’t like to remember their flaws, especially not in relation to Teddy, and it won’t do any good to anyone, anyway.

‘Why don’t finish up your milk first?’, she tries again, pointing at the abandoned mug on the floor. With a flick of her wand, she mildly warms it up again. 

He nods enthusiastically, but something goes wrong when he grabs the mug and he spills all the remaining milk all over himself and the blanket. He immediately looks up at her, his eyes filled with remorse and anticipation, almost as if he’s realised he’s gone a step too far. Ginny is aware that Teddy’s clumsy to the point of exasperating his grandmother, and that he might even expect a scolding for his little distraction, but she feels a sudden rush of affection towards him instead.

‘All right,’ she says, standing up and taking him in her arms. ‘Time for another bath.’

She could easily scurgify and dry up his pyjamas, but she remembers how good it would feel when her mum would bathe her and then wrap her in a warm towel, always offering her snuggles and kisses along the process. She repeats the same ritual with Teddy, even playing with some dragon and quaffle toys in the water with him, just as her mum used to - only that the toys, at the time, were old and faded, sometimes missing a paw or an eye. 

She wraps him in the softest towel she can find, swings him in her arms while dancing across the hallway to reach her bedroom, and pretends to drop him on her bed. He laughs so hysterically and uncontrollably that his hair becomes curly. Her heart couldn’t be any more full.

She retrieves his pyjamas bottoms with a quick ‘Accio’ and helps him wear them, but decides to leave his milk-stained t-shirt on the bathroom floor. She ransacks first Harry’s, and then her own clothes drawer in search of something clean for Teddy to wear that isn’t the top of Harry’s Auror uniform, a pair of mismatched socks, a bra or some old Christmas jumpers. 

That’s when she sees it, stuck in the back of the drawer - a hint of green. She touches the cotton fabric and seizes it. It still feels soft, despite having been left unworn and forgotten in a drawer for years.

She realises her hands are shaking. She’d never thought she could’ve forgotten.

.

Ginny had never assumed she could smell dust before, but now she’s quite positive she’s been in the wrong all her life. As she sits in the dining room of 12 Grimmauld Place, taking a break from the massive amount of cleaning her mother has decided to subject her to since they’ve moved here (no exceptions, not even today), she feels like every inch of her body is covered with dust. Her hair, her fingers, her nose - to the extent that she thinks she can actually smell it. And it’s not great, considering that the more extensive the efforts they make to clean up the house, the more the house seems to turn out filthier than before.

Today it’s only her and her mother on cleaning duty, though. Everyone else is too preoccupied with what’s going to happen tomorrow - the tense whispering and nervous pacing are becoming almost unbearable. Her mum is worried too, of course, but she reckons that trying to tidy up this wreck of a place is the only way she knows to distract herself at the moment. Ginny is, for one, happy to oblige. She’d never thought she’d say this, but she’d rather dust every single one of those house-elf heads hanging on top of the stairs with a toothbrush rather than giving in to everyone’s anxiety.

Amused by the thought, she gets up to go and do just that, but someone barges loudly in the room from the door behind her back.

‘Wotcher, Ginny,’ says a ringing voice. ‘So, where's the party?’

Ginny smiles at Tonks, who has styled her hair in a bright purple ponytail today. Before she can say anything, Tonks hands her a little parcel, wrapped in crumpled paper that must have once belonged to an issue of the Daily Prophet. She recognises some of the scattered, black-inked words - ‘The Boy Who Lies?’, or: ‘Let’s hope he hasn’t got a scar on his forehead or we’ll be asked to worship him next’, and: ‘Delusional teenager’, ‘Better skilled at seeking attention than golden snitches’,  ‘Expert Circe Bryce confirms that orphaned children often employ cunning strategies to cope with their abandonment complex (more on page 8).’

‘Sorry,’ utters Tonks with an apologetic half-smile. ‘That’s all I could find.’

Ginny shrugs and lets out an unlikely high-pitched cackle. Laughs at the irony of it all. Everything seems to be overflowing with Harry these days, even her birthday presents. 

She rips out the paper, unsure whether she’s more eager to see what’s inside or to get those stupid printed words out of her sight. The first thing that she finds is soft and bright green, an unmistakable green, and she already knows what it is.

‘You didn’t!’, she cries out in complete disbelief. ‘No way!’

‘Heard you’re a big fan.’

Ginny wields a Holyhead Harpies t-shirt in her hands as if it’s a trophy, her most prized possession, and her eyes are sparkling.

‘The design is from 1981, the year you were born, I s’pose,’ continues Tonks with a satisfied look on her face, pointing at the golden print on the front of the t-shirt. It reads Holyhead Harpies in a curly font, never seen before. ‘I thrifted it from a small shop in Diagon Alley. I should take you there some time.’

Ginny nods with excitement, although she’s only listened to half of what Tonks’s said, too busy marvelling at her new t-shirt.

‘Come on now,’ adds Tonks, sounding very amused, pointing at the half-opened parcel. ‘There’s something else in there.’

Ginny opens her eyes wide and immediately dives her hands into the wrapping paper. She finds something thin and folded - when she opens it, it reveals a moving picture of Gwenog Jones darting through the air on her broomstick.

‘She’s a badass, isn’t she,’ comments Tonks. Ginny doesn’t respond right away, too busy mentally scanning the walls of her bedroom back at the Burrow to decide where to hang the picture.

‘Blimey, you’re spoiling me, Tonks,’ she manages to let out after a bit, still holding the t-shirt with one hand and her new poster with the other. She then throws her arms around Tonks’s neck, squeezing her tight. ‘Thank you, so much.’

She doesn’t quite know what she’s done to deserve Tonks’s affection after knowing her for barely over a month. It’s true, they spend most of their days together under the same roof, but they seem to have just instantly connected regardless. Tonks embodies everything that she aspires to be one day, plus she’s bold, unbelievably funny, and doesn’t coddle her. It feels good to be surrounded by women that aren’t her mother for a change - soothing, even. For what may be the first time in her life, this summer she’s truly felt the urge and longing for female companionship - maybe because she’s finally started getting used to it, back at school and here at Grimmauld Place. And now that Hermione’s back to fussing over Harry with her brother, and her mother is too busy running around yelling at people, she’s really only got Tonks to rely on. What amazes her is that Tonks doesn’t seem to mind - on the contrary, she appears to be rather thrilled to spend time with her when she can, unbothered by their age gap, almost taking her under her wing. In a time of her life in which she feels left out, a spare, Tonks has chosen to give her some purpose, to make her feel necessary. She doesn’t know why she does it, only that she’ll be eternally grateful for it.

‘Ah, it’s nothing,’ smiles Tonks, gently pulling away from her to give her a pointed look. ‘I’m sorry that we didn’t celebrate you more, though.’ 

She doesn’t need to add more about lingering wars, resistance movements and impending Ministry hearings.

‘What are you talking about,’ says Ginny, brushing those thoughts off quickly. ‘This birthday’s been dashing. Even your cousin’s made me a card.’

That’s quite true, actually. Her mum's baked a cake and everybody (well, except some angsty black-haired teenager, know anyone?) gathered around the table to sing her ‘Happy birthday’ first thing in the morning. Then she's opened her gifts - a jumper from her parents, quite a few boxes of Honeydukes from all her brothers, and the unexpected birthday card from Sirius, with the handmade drawing of a flying hippogriff that waves hello and smirks at her. Hermione's got her a book, unsurprisingly - but that’s frustrated her a little, because she knows she won’t be able to reciprocate on her own birthday, except with a stupid singing card and (if she’s lucky) with a box of chocolates stolen from one of her brothers. 

Tonks chuckles lightly. ‘Has that special boy wished you a happy birthday?’

Ginny shrugs, and just as she’s about to mutter a resentful ‘Barely’, she realises with a pinch of guilt that Tonks is talking about - well, another boy.

‘Michael’s sent me an owl,’ she says, blushing softly. ‘Said he misses me.’

‘Bet he does,’ remarks Tonks, observing her very carefully all of a sudden, as if she wants to read her mind. She waits a few seconds and then, rather out of the blue, she simply adds: ‘Don’t ever settle, all right?’

Ginny frowns, puzzled. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Tonks doesn’t answer, but winks at her, laughing. ‘You’ll understand with time, you’ll see.’

And indeed, she will.

.

Ginny wonders if the small shop in Diagon Alley is still there after the war. She’d like to find it now, pay it a visit, maybe purchase something in Tonks’s honour. They’d never managed to go together, in the end.

She exhales heavily and taps the vintage Holyhead Harpies t-shirt with her wand, shrinking it just enough to fit Teddy perfectly. She reckons he should keep it; she doesn’t seem to have it in her to wear it, anyway.

Teddy falls asleep peacefully wearing that t-shirt and maybe it’s pathetic, maybe it’s irrational, but she can’t help hoping that his mother’s touch will comfort him in his dreams tonight. 

She’s so deep in her thoughts that she doesn’t notice that Harry’s arrived home until he plants a gentle kiss on the back of her head.

‘Tough evening?’, he asks softly, gesturing towards Teddy.

Ginny sighs, leaning her head on his chest. ‘It was fine.’

He seems to understand, though, and decides not to push further. They hold each other in silence for a while, their eyes captured by the little boy snuggled under the blanket and asleep in their bed. Staring at the past and the future, all at once.

#ginny weasley #teddy lupin #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #hinny #Harry x Ginny #flashbacks #no plot just feels

[lias-writings]

Be my MJ??

pairing: spider-man!bella x reader

tw: kissing, mentions of food, fluff, established relationship, flirting (?)

a/n: hey!! so few days ago bella reposted the photo of them like a spider man ^ and i had this idea, there are few changes, like bella’s taller than reader, they are not famous obviously, and they are still british, but live in queens, so does reader but reader’s ethnicity isn’t mentioned.

also!! this is an au! you can imagine it as one of the spider-verse if you wish to (that’s how im imagining it) but it’s up to you <33

summary: you found out your partner is the spider-man everyone is interested about and not just a regular teenager as you thought.

you always thought that you had a pretty average life, and you did. you were going to local high school/college, you went to house parties with your friends and you had a partner, who you loved and who loved you.

and there you were laying on your bed scrolling thru your instagram looking at all the posts updating about the local superhero spider-man.

no one really knew who it was, no one knew if it was even a man but no one would guess it a teenager from queens.

as i mentioned before, you were doing basically nothing when you heard a knock on your window.

you almost jumped from your bed in shock but when you looked to the window’s direction, outside you saw nothing but dark night and noisy New York City.

you would go back to your previous action if you didn’t heard that sound again. this time you were sure it wasn’t just in you head so you grabbed the nearest thing- a hair brush, and put it in front of your face in a protective way.

you expect anything, a confused bird, witch on a broomstick, kidnapper or even a fucking alien but not this. not the superhero in a red costume, named after an animal you feared the most.

THE spider-man was outside of your window. at that moment you thought nothing could surprise you more, but hell you were so wrong.

the person just pulled their mask down, and at that moment your heart stopped. it’s not a middle aged man, it’s not another rich dude who became a superhero, it’s your partner bella.

you were staring at the window for good minute while bella was waving at you and signalising that they want you to open the window.

when you kind of pulled yourself together you slowly opened the window, still taken away a bit.

“hi.” they said with a little apologising smile.

“hi.”

“i-i can explain, all of this”

“i’m listening” you weren’t as confused as you were moments ago, now you felt more angry because they’ve been lying to you.

“okay, so- i kind of was bit by a spider- radioactive spider and since then i can do this” they started explaining and then shot a web right from there wrist at the direction of your door - “and this” they continued as they sticked their hand to the ceiling and crawled around a little.

“how long have you been this spider-person?” you asked knowing that spider-“man” has been around for few moths at least, but you wanted to hear it, you wanted to know why they didn’t trusted to enough to tell you sooner.

“a year” they almost whispered with a guilty face.

“a year?!” you almost screamed but luckily realised, that your parents are downstairs, soon enough.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you, i know i should have, but-”

“but what? am i not trustworthy?” you cut them before they could finish their sentence.

“no! of you course you are, i-“ and as they were speaking they slowly walked closer to you.

“if you knew, it would put a target on your back, which is the last thing i want, i love you and i’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.” now your waist were completely hugged by two arms of theirs and they were resting their forehead on yours.

“even now it’s dangerous for you to know but i’m gonna do everything i can to protect you.” they finished as they gently kissed your lips, while stroking your waist.

the kiss made you completely forget what were you mad about so you dived more into it.

moments after you both pulled away in the need of oxygen but still kept your faces close.

“so you’re a spider-man, huh?”

“yeah, most girls would kill to be at your place” they smirked.

you let out a sarcastic gasp and pulled out of the ‘hug’, so you could touch the place where your heart is.

“oh really? just so you know i’m still mad at you for lying to me.” you made a fake insulted face at them as they chuckled.

“guess you don’t want this then.” they said as they leaned out of the window to grab a plastic bag that was there the whole time. you leaned your body closer to them in a curiosity and your eyes brightened when they pulled out your favorite food/sweets.

“so this is the biggest advantage to date spider-man?”

“no you haven’t seen the best yet.” they winked at you as they handed you the meal.

#bella ramsey x reader #im so nervous to post this omg😭 #bella ramsey #bella ramsey fanfic #bella ramsey fluff #happy pride 🌈 #spider man #lia writes 🌷🛍️

[saintbryde]

bound to the jinni | pt 1

Content Warnings | Tropes : breeding kink, noncon, dubcon, huge monster peen, somnophilia, sex slave and master dynamic, primal, dom/sub power exchange, squirting, creampie, fingering, bondage, drugged state from aphrodisiacs, instalove, raspberry sherbet flavored cum which is also an aphrodisiac

A/N : Please don’t use this as a reliable sex resource, the sex slave and master dynamic presented here is in no way meant to be a true representation of a healthy BDSM relationship

Parts: pt 2

Heather was vaguely aware of the sun dipping below the horizon as she manned the counter, serving a line of customers that went out the front door. The holiday rush was an exciting and exhausting time for Heather and her two sisters, but they couldn’t complain. After all, it was good business.

“Holly,” Heather shouted to her youngest sister, who was finishing up hanging festive flowers from the wooden ceiling beams. She whipped her bubblegum pink head down to the gift wrapping station that adjoined the counter in the centre of the shop. Three eager customers waited with their purchases clutched in their hands.

“Right!” Holly’s witch hat fell to the floor as she lowered herself down like a kid on the monkey bars, and quickly threw her hat back on as she made her way to the gift wrapping station. “Sorry for the wait. Which gift wrapping would you like? We’ve got shimmering blue snow, golden tinsel, or my personal favorite, pink petals for the coming spring.”

Holly could be a little frantic, but her passionate spirit brought warm smiles to the customers’ faces. Or frazzle and dazzle is what Holly would call it. The thought made Heather snort under her breath. The windows quickly became coated in a light frost as nightfall hit.

Hazel—Heather’s other sister—had brought the fire to life in the hearth and with a wave of her hand, conjured a swirl of wind to maneuver a broomstick across the floor, sweeping up fallen flowers, dirt and dust. The chiming of the bell that hung before the front door signaled the departure of the last few customers as Heather smiled and greeted the last person in line.

“Would I be able to see that one?” said the customer.

Heather’s eyes followed the customer’s finger, pointing to the large glass case on the top shelf behind her. It made her stomach churn like a bubbling cauldron. This dildo was inside a display case because it’d been a great effort to capture the entity that now hosted it. It was big, and such a dark purple that it was almost black. But it was also Heather’s greatest mistake.

“I’m sorry, but that one’s not for sale.” Said Heather.

The customer appeared heartbroken. “Why?”

It was the first mistake Heather made when she launched the business. She’d summoned an ancient Jinni and captured it without striking a deal. And Jinni’s were quite vicious, especially if they’d been forced into something that wasn’t a lamp.

Heather couldn’t bring herself to release the Jinni, as horrible as that made her feel. She was terrified at what it could do to her for payback.

A blur of white hair appeared at Heather’s side. “That’s the Annabel of dildos. You don’t want to touch it.” Hazel stated with caution. Heather nodded. “It’s a safety hazard. The jinni inside it isn’t friendly.” “May I make a custom order, then? I don’t see any other dildos in your shop that are giant like that one.”

Heather and Hazel eyed each other. In the heat of starting up a business, they hadn’t thought about custom orders yet. But now that someone had shared their desire for it, hundreds of other residents in Shadow Falls would want it too. Heather grabbed a notepad out from under the counter and grinned at the customer from ear to ear. “Tell me how you would like it to be customized, and I’ll see what we can do.”

***

As the three sisters locked up shop, they prepared their tasks for the next morning and subsequently outlined their schedule for the rest of the week.

Heather heaved a cardboard box from the storage room and emerged from the hallway, plunking it in front of Holly onto the counter.

“The first order of business tomorrow morning is to deliver these massage oils to the Bathhouse by nine.” Said Heather, before eying Hazel. “Then Hazel, you’re manning the counter for the morning while I get the next restock of dildos for the next summoning. Do you have questions, comments, or concerns?”

Holly clasped Heather’s sleeve, pleading babyishly. “Please tell me we’ll be closed for Solstice, Heather?”

Hazel leaned against the counter. “We know you love striking the iron while it’s hot, but we’ve made plenty of profit for the holidays already. Don’t you think it’s time we slow down and enjoy it?”

For a moment, Heather didn’t know what to say. Had she overworked her sisters too hard? Occultic Pleasures was her passion and Heather let her sisters tag along for the ride. She tried to recall the last time she had a day off and… she couldn’t.

Heather prided herself on being a savvy business woman, but sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder if she was working to her own detriment. She could have owned a house by now, been married or had kids. But she was rooming with her sisters at thirty-four with a dildo business that was popping off.

It’d been years since she dated seriously, and she wasn’t lighting up at the prospect of small talking other males. At least Heather could get her own pleasure in her shop.

“Do you have more shifts at the Hostess Bar?” Heather quirked a brow at Hazel.

She nodded. “Aunty is being very generous.”

If the boss was giving Hazel more nights at the Hostess Bar, perhaps it was time to slow down. And Heather knew as much as Holly loved to frazzle and dazzle customers, she also grew enchanted flowers in her spare time that could cast a curse or make a wish come true.

Heather regarded her two sisters with a warm smile. “We can finish early tomorrow on Solstice Eve, and have Solstice off. You guys can have the week off, too. I’ll work the shop.”

Holly collected the box of massage oil with fervor and made for the back door with a skip in her step. “Thank you, sis! I’ll set this down by the door so it’s ready for tomorrow.”

Hazel frowned at Heather. “You need a break too. I’m not talking about a day’s break. You need a few weeks off.”

Heather smiled at her sister’s open concern. “I’m fine, Hazel.”

She rolled her eyes and begrudgingly accepted Heather’s stubborn answer. Hazel gestured around the room. “Do you need help with anything else?”

Heather waved a hand. “Nothing, you guys head to bed. I’ll lock up.”

“All right,” Hazel padded to the back door. Their loft was above the shop, the only access an iron staircase beside the back entrance. “Goodnight, Heather.”

***

Heather finished lining the fireplace with some green and red tinsel, savoring how the fire warmed her skin. All she needed now was some hot coco and a chair to sit by the fire and she’d be content.

But as cozy as Heather’s little sex shop was, she knew she couldn’t sleep here. The shop was clean and ready for the next day. All she had left to do was take out the cash register drawer and hide it so no thieves could find it.

Hazel’s words came back to her as she went to the register. You need a break. While that was true, Heather couldn’t imagine handing over control of the shop to someone else for a day, let alone a few weeks. Occultic Pleasures was her baby, and she would not keep her eye off it for sometime soon.

It stressed her out to even think about it.

The bell chimed at the door, and Heather raised her eyes at the sound. The door had been blown wide open, and as Heather locked the register away in its shelf, she peered out the door to see if anyone was there.

When all she found was a snowy footpath, she locked the door. I thought I locked it before?

When she turned, the lights suddenly went out. The fireplace cast dark, lingering shadows, burning low.

Heather swallowed her panic, and searched for the light switch which was behind the counter. But when she turned all the lights back on, she found the glass cabinet on the shelf above her was empty, the door left open ajar.

Heather’s stomach sank.

The dildo had disappeared, so to the angry Jinni inside it.

Oh God.

In that moment, Heather didn’t see—but felt him coalescing into the air like smoke. The lights shuddered before cutting out, and no matter how many times Heather flicked the switch, they wouldn’t turn back on. A hulking shape stalked out of the shadows beside the hearth, and Heather’s heart stopped. A phantom breeze swirled at his feet—or where they were supposed to be—like his presence commanded a silent storm. His upper torso was exposed among the smoke, purple rippling muscles promising violence. The jinni flashed her a menacing smile. “Your business model has been fruitful. Capturing entities against their will and shoving them into your products.” His voice boomed, ancient and deep, full of contempt.

The most dangerous jinni had escaped. Heather swallowed, trying not to shrink as his tall form crept closer, leering down at her. Maybe if Heather explained that it was a misunderstanding, this Jinni wouldn’t burst her into flame. “You were a mistake. Every entity we summon into this shop strikes a mutual deal with us and agrees to inhabit our products.”

“Their consent doesn’t matter.” He brought his mouth to her ear, forcing her back against the shop window. “You’re greedy Heather, selling them for your own gain.”

“Please Jinni,” she begged. “I know how unfair it was for you. If I could reverse your capture, I would.”

“Why did you not set me free, then?” Heather had tried on many occasions, but the threat of this jinni exacting revenge always made her stop before she could finish the last step. The step that could set him free into the world. Part of her felt rotten for it, but the fear was too much.

When Heather didn’t answer, the jinni’s tone turned almost gleeful, his assumption correct. “You’ve felt not a drop of guilt for what you’ve done. I think it’s time you knew how it feels to be a captive.” With clawed hands, the jinni conjured a dark cloud of smoke and forced it Heather’s way, swallowing her whole. She stumbled away in terror before everything went black.

#monster fucker #monster smut #monster boyfriend #monster bf #monster fudger #monster fuqqer #monster romance #original story #terato #jinni #breeding k1nk #bd/sm master #monster kink #monster lover #monster x human #holiday smut #christmas smut #smut #somno k!nk #bd/sm kink #bd/sm slave #paranormal romance #primal play #smutmas 2023 #kinkmas

[peppermint-toads]

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 eddie finds a new halloween hobby

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 so incredibly fluffy you might actually cry

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 eddie munson x reader, mechanic eddie, older eddie, established relationship

It started out simple, harmless, even. When Uncle Wayne moved out with his girlfriend, he left you and Eddie alone in the trailer.

Eddie got an itch. An unrelenting, never-ceasing itch.

One night after work, Eddie was picking up some light bulbs at the hardware store per your third request. And he just couldn’t help it. His fingers twitched and his feet were carrying him across the glassy-smooth floors towards the seasonal decorations.

His hands buzzed by his sides as he passed plastic skeletons, felt bats with fuzzy wings that hung from the ceiling, skulls with fake candles that made their cavernous eyes glow yellow. He was in too deep.

When he got home, you glanced down at the giant plastic bag he was holding and sighed.

“Did you get the lightbulbs at least?”

“No,” he admitted softly, but then his eyes lit up. “But, baby, we don’t even need them anymore!” He fished through the giant bag before pulling out the skull, flicking it on and setting it on the kitchen counter. “See!”

“Yeah,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest. “Real practical.”

You turned your back to him, heading down the hall to your bedroom with a secret smile on your face.

When you came back out, Eddie was nowhere to be seen. You called for him a couple times before you heard a short yell of “Fuck!” coming from outside.

“Eddie? You alright?” You asked, poking your head out of the door.

“Yeah just—shit—trying to get these spiderwebs untangled.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, letting him get back to it.

His collection only grew over the years. He couldn’t help it. There was an entire closet in your home dedicated solely to the decorations he’d accumulated. It was brimming with fake cobwebs, little spiders, and gauze ghosts.

Your trailer became the “scary one,” and kids from all around would flock to see what new features Eddie had added that year. They would even go as far as giving Eddie suggestions, like fake blood on the skeletons, or maybe, maybe he could add sound effects!

What really put Eddie on top was when he stuffed a pair of dark blue dickies coveralls with hay and shoved a broken broomstick inside of it, staking it into the ground and finishing it off with a Michael Myers mask.

It became a yearly routine, you would worry about buying the candy, he would worry about the yard and house.

Nancy came around this year to see the place, claiming it was the best she’d ever seen it. Which wasn’t wrong, Eddie had put more time and money into it than ever before. She was quick to pull out her camera and snap a photo of Eddie standing next to the Michael Myers scarecrow.

A couple weeks later, you raced over to the garage with the paper clutched in your hands.

“Eddie, Eddie!”

He turned his radio down and wiped his hands, pulling you into a hug.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Look!” You shoved the paper in his face. His eyes landed on a photo of himself and his head jerked back in surprise. He squinted as he skimmed the short article, Local Hawkins Man Makes Halloween Special Every Year With Hauntingly Good Decorations.

And Eddie didn't say anything, he just stalked slowly to the metal foldout chair in the corner, sitting and looking at the paper.

“Eddie?”

You followed him over to the chair to see a tear sliding down his cheek. Immediately, your brows pulled tight together. “What’s wrong, Eddie?”

“I’ve just—you know, seen my face in the newspaper before but, never for anything good.” He smiled, staring at what Nancy had written.

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #mechanic!​eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction

[siriusleee]

adamantine chains | part 9

"Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus." "What does that mean?" "Love is rich with both honey and venom." "I suppose that is true." Or which in König finds you broken in the mountains. A retelling of Cupid and Psyche. König | Reader

tags: small cuts, breaking and entering aftermath, an angry man request a fic here | buy me a coffee so I don't have to work overtime and can write more

find the other parts of this story on my masterlist here.

Valentina is waiting for you at the front door of her tiny apartment, a thin robe wrapped tightly around her. You're almost hysterical as you slam the car into park; she meets you at the driver's side door, pulling the handle before you get a chance to open it.

"Are you alright? What is going on?"

"There's someone at my house - I don't know how to call for help; I just left."

Valentina's hand is warm against yours as she pulls you out of the car, slamming the door shut behind you.

"Are you sure it wasn't König? Did he come home?"

"No," you shake your head as she pulls you into the doorway of the walk-up. "He always comes to get me or he would have called. And they were smaller than him. I don't know who it is."

Valentina chews on her lip as she pulls you to her apartment, pushing the door open with her hip.

"Do you want me to call the police now?"

"No - the guy is probably gone. I just - can I stay the night here? I can call them tomorrow to go with me."

"Ja; of course. Of Course."

Valentina flutters around you; a moth slamming against a flame as she takes your bag, pushes a bowl of whatever she cooked for dinner into your hands. She never stops moving; it would be unnerving if she wasn't always on the move. 

You eat absentmindedly - brain stuck on the image of the strange man illuminated in the red of your tail lights. There had been something so familiar in the confident lilt of his stance at the doorway; something so wolflike in the way he had stood there - like it was his den and you were interrupting him. 

Valentina doesn't stop moving; the moment you finish eating she swaps the bowl with a set of worn pajamas, swearing that the two of you are close enough in size that they'll fit. You let her shoo you into the bathroom, so tiny that you can stretch your hands out on each side and touch the opposing walls. 

You strip, doing your best not to look at your naked self in the mirror; you try to tell yourself it's a trick of the dim lighting - the shadow of a bump. The doctor still had time to call - to calm your worries before you needed to really start panicking. 

Valentina chatters to you in German when you emerge; you only understand about half of the words. Just enough to know that she needs help pulling out the sleeper bed. The two of you struggle against the weight until it unfolds, slamming heavily into the floor. A minute later, as the two of you tuck in the sheets, her downstairs neighbor slams the ceiling with a broomstick and yells at the two of you. Valentina stomps, once, twice, shouting back in her own clipped German. 

"Are you going to be alright? Sleeping out here? You can sleep with me if you want."

The image of you and her, snuggled up in her tiny bed makes you snort.

"I'm fine Valentina. I don't need your knees in my back all night. Thank you for letting me stay here."

"We're friends right? Anyway, tomorrow morning we'll get the police to go with us and see who was there. You can stay here until König comes home if you want."

You watch as she disappears into her room; the dark living room is illuminated by the crack of light that comes from beneath the front door. Twice, someone walks by, their shadows slipping beneath the doorway and you freeze, fingers clutching onto the blankets. 

The nightmares return, but this time, they're different. 

You're walking through the village, snow flurries falling but not sticking to the ground. Your hand is wrapped tightly in your grandfather's; he's chatting to you in Polish, but the words are fuzzy, and you can't understand what he's saying. 

But you feel yourself smiling - it's heavy and stretches your face to the point of hurting. You're pointing out something in the distance; there's a movement in your belly. When you look down, it's swollen underneath the thick wool of your jacket. 

Instead of abject horror, a warm feeling pulls through you; your granddad tugs at your hand. When you look up, he's smiling and gestures to your belly. He still chatters away at you; you can't make out what he's saying, but you know by the joy in his face, he's excited to meet his great-grandchild.

The two of you turn a corner; he freezes, hand suddenly cold in yours. Ahead of you - your old fiance fills the small alleyway. Marcus - the sight of his face floods something in your heart; you try to hide your belly beneath the shopping bag in your hands. Your grandfather pushes you behind him; you want to tell him that he's too old - too fragile to be protecting you, but you can't make your mouth form the words. Up ahead Marcus grins, sharp teeth glinting in the snow filtered light.

He speaks, but the only sound that reaches you is the sharp bite of a wolf's growl. Your grandfather's hand shakes in yours; Marcus steps to you and your gripped by fear. 

König, you have to call König. You will your hands to reach into your pocket, to grab the phone that's suddenly heavy in your pocket. It burns through the lining, burning into your skin, but you can't grab it. Marcus keeps walking towards you, and the heavy fear and worry grows heavier. 

His hand reaches out towards your grandfather; before you can scream, someone shakes you awake.

Valentina's hands are cold against your sweaty skin as she pulls you back into the darkness of her living room. Just like your grandfather - you can see her mouth moving, but the words are moths against the droning in your ear. It's not until she pushes the hair back from your face that her voice cuts through the buzzing sound.

"-alright. You're alright."

You hold her hands tightly in yours, trying to ground yourself until your heart slows. You can't get the look on Marcus's face out of your mind. He'd looked so angry: any why wouldn't he? The moment that he'd died you'd all but abandoned the thought of him for König. 

"Do you want me to sleep in here with you?"

You don't know if you can trust yourself to speak - if you do, you might throw up. So instead you nod, and scoot over for Valentina to crawl in beside you. She does - she's so warm you flinch away from her at first. But once she pulls the blanket over the two of you, you let her warmth lull you back into sleep.

This time, you don't remember what you've dreamt about.

The police, it turns out, includes an ex of Valentina's who arrives at her place not long after she calls his number. He stands sheepishly in the doorway while Valentia chirps to him in hurried German, explaining the entire situation. 

"Do you want to make a report?" He asks you when Valentina is finally done speaking. 

"Nein. No. I'd like to see if anything was taken first."

You lead the two of them back to the house - you and Valentina in your car, and he follows close behind. His name is Jakob, Valentina tells you, explaining how they break up and make up every few weeks. 

"But he is a good man - he will help you."

The house is completely ransacked. Everything is destroyed, smashed against the ground. In your and König's bedroom everything is pulled from the drawers and strewn about. Jakob and Valentina comb through the house; with shaky hands you pick up the pictures that had once been on the coffee table, now smashed onto the ground in a sea of glass. 

The ones König and Oma are still there, boot prints stomped onto the front. But one of you and König, taken on a night when there had been a small carnival, is gone. 

The sound of heavy tires on the dirt outside causes you to jump, slicing your fingers on the edge of a glass shard. Jakob appears from the back room, Valentina right behind him. They both look worried, but you know that thick, heavy tread - having committed it to memory. 

You beat the two of them to the front door, blood dripping down your fingers as you trip out of the door. On the other side, König is climbing out of the truck. Through the dark tint you can see a dark haired woman staring at you. 

König is yelling as he comes across the hard - bag slung over his shoulder. 

"Taube, what is going on here? Why are the police here?"

You don't get a chance to answer him before he's dropped the bag and yanked you to his side. Jakob speaks to him in German, so fast it doesn't sound as if he's even speaking more than one sentence. The truck backs up slowly, the woman still staring at you as she turns the wheel to drive away.

König's hand tightens painfully on your elbow as Jakob speaks - behind him Valentina peers at König with wide eyes; you turn your attention to König as he speaks angrily to Jakob. He's filthy, dark spots and dirt covering his tactical gear. His eyes are covered in a layer of dirt and have a feral edge. And you want nothing more than to curl up beside him. 

You know the conversation is over when Jakob grabs Valentina's shoulder and gently guides her towards his official car. König watches the two of them with a razor focus, his hand consistently getting tighter on your elbow. He doesn't move until the car is gone; when it's just a speck on the horizon, König turns his focus to you. 

The look in his eyes makes you step back; it's reminiscent of the night you pulled his mask up, but the edge of his eyes are darker. 

"Was ist passiert, während ich weg war? Hast du die Tür nicht abgeschlossen?"

"Ja! I had the door locked! One of them broke after you left but -"

"Hast du es reparieren lassen? Was it fixed?"

"Yes! I locked the door before work, and when I came home I could see him-"

"Ihn? Ein Mann war in meinem Haus?"

His look is venomous. He starts to shake you, and you jerk your hand out of grip.

"König, I'm sorry; I don't know how he got in. I'm sorry."

Fiber by fiber, his muscles start to loosen. Beneath the mask you watch the darkness slip from his eyes. It takes an act of God; you can feel the effort rolling off of him, for him to bend down and pick up his bag.

"I'm sorry for getting angry. Taube. It is not your fault.Lass uns rein gehen."

He leads you in; you let him take your hand, so gently you can barely feel his touch. But the anger returns when he takes in the destroyed interior, when he drops you hand and sees the blood from your cut finger smeared there.

"You're hurt."

It's a flat observation - devoid of the tone that usually makes his voice so warm.

"It's nothing - I cut it, picking up some of the glass."

Bag dropping heavily on the floor, König leads you to the kitchen. The small chairs that circled the table are matchsticks across the floor; without a warning König lifts you to the counter. He moves you so fast you don't even have time to protest. He leans down to be eye level with him; through the dirt and grease you can see the exhaustion written on the far corners of his eyes. You want to apologize for the problems he walked into, but before you can, he takes the cut finger and flips his mask back, places it in his mouth.

"That's disgusting Kö," you can't help the giggle that comes out of you; you try to pull your finger back, but he keeps a bruising grip on you wrist. When he pulls it away, you see your blood on his tongue.

"You are mine Taube, and I am yours. It is not disgusting."

He speaks without looking at you, instead choosing to study the now no longer bleeding cut. Placing your hand gently in your lap, he leans on one hand to cage you in, resting his forehead against yours, the mask tickling your nose. "I was supposed to come and find you at work. Pick you up early and bring you home; I was going to fuck you on the front lawn because I couldn't wait any longer. But this - I'm sorry I left you alone, Taube."

#konig cod #könig x y/n #konig #könig #cod #my fics #cod konig #konig mw2 #konig x you #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare

[thenerdykneazle]

Dear Diary

Summary: You stumble across Garreth's rather scandalizing diary while waiting for him to meet up with you.

Garreth Weasley x Gryffindor F!MC

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, 7th year, aged-up characters

Word count: 2263

You sat on the edge of the fourposter bed. The maroon curtains were tied back, leaving it open. You looked around the room. It resembled your own, having the same beds with the exception that these were numbered. Garreth also had one more roommate than you did, though the room was smaller than yours. The five beds were packed into the small room at the top of Gryffindor tower. It also lacked the sitting area yours had, though a similar enchanted mirror stood near the door. The room was cleaner than you had ever seen it, too, as most of its residents were away for the holidays. The sole exception was Garreth. He had retuned just after Christmas to spend time with his aunt. As such, his desk was as strewn with papers as ever. It was filled with books, a few for his actual classes but most were various extracurricular tomes on potions and herbology. A portrait of the last Gryffindor captain to win the quidditch cup was hung above it.

Currently, you were waiting for Garreth to return from getting lunch with his aunt. You flopped back, lying sideways across the bed as you stared at the ceiling in boredom. You yawned as you stretched your limbs as far as you could reach them. Perhaps you would sneak in a nap while you waited. The break had been wonderfully peaceful – a stark contrast to your usually hectic schedule. Not a single soul had come to you in crisis, which meant you had been using a lot of time to catch up on much-needed sleep.

However, you decided against the nap since Garreth was set to return shortly. You got up and sat at his desk, looking through the pages of notes on his newest experiment. While you refused to be his guineapig, the concoctions did intrigue you. You drummed your fingers on the desk absentmindedly, tapping to the tune of one of the numerous Chudley Cannons cheers Garreth had taught you over the summer. Suddenly, a drawer you had never noticed in the desk slid open.

“And who are you?” you said as you plucked the lone book out of the drawer before sliding it shut.

You flicked it open, and your eyes scanned the black scrawl on the pages. A diary! You glanced at the door before returning your gaze to the book. Your heart rate accelerated with excitement. You knew you should put it back. Clearly these were private thoughts, hidden away behind a charm. Although, it wasn’t your fault the book practically thrust itself into your lap. You were flipping through the pages as you dialogued with yourself on the morality of perusing something so personal to your friend.

You held the book in both hands as you read the most recent entry. It was a sweet musing about Garreth’s excitement for break. He talked about missing his family and looking forward to quality time with his aunt. He also wrote a bit about the potion he hoped to perfect over break, a fizzing beverage that makes the drinker burp bubbles. You smiled as you read the words. You worked your way backwards, reading through complaints about classes and teachers, especially Professor Sharp. Though, despite his frustrations with him, he clearly had admiration for the man, as well.

An entry from two weeks prior gave you pause.

I had the best dream last night. It was about her, of course. In it, we spent the day in Hogsmeade, browsing Honeydukes and Zonko’s, before spending the night drinking at the Three Broomsticks. We stayed in the private room above the tavern, and she was all over me, kissing my neck and grabbing my hair. I got her knickers off, and she was so wet for me. I swear I could feel her slick now. It was so vivid.

Before I knew it, we were naked on the bed. She was under me as I slid into her. She moaned my name as I thrust sharply into her over and over. She mewled and pleaded for more, and I gave it to her. Merlin, I loved the way her voice cracked as she came, calling my name again. I was surprised I hadn’t actually spilled my seed when I woke up. What I wouldn’t give to hear her moaning my name in the waking world. I do so love the sound of it on her lips in her innocent greetings. Oh, how deliciously it would echo in my ears as she fell apart. Gods, I hope the memories of this dream never fade.

Wide-eyed, you looked around the room again, ensuring you were still alone. The sordid words shocked you. You would never have expected such vulgarity from the genial boy. Well, he wasn’t a boy anymore, you supposed. Well into your seventh year, you had both matured over the last two years. For Garreth, that meant filling out considerably. His broad shoulders and muscular arms served him well on the quidditch pitch. His strong forearms exposed from perpetually rolled-up sleeves were rather distracting in class. So was the way he loosened his tie in potions as the steaming cauldrons heated the room.

It was a small mercy that the woman in his dream went unnamed. It would be too much to know who had stolen the affections of the boy you cared for so ardently. Though, that didn’t stop you from rifling through the diary to try to find it out, against your better judgment. You found several other recountings of his wet dreams. He wrote of dreaming about her riding him and “watching her impale herself on [his] prick.” He wrote of another dream where he bent her over one of the potions stations and pounded into her from behind. An entry on a dream about eating her out in the astronomy tower after meeting her to fill out star charts brought a particularly strong blush to your cheeks. Yet not once did he mention her name.

You had made it all the way back to entries from the beginning of sixth year. It was there that you found the entry that sealed your fate.

She was driving me mad today. I swear she does it on purpose, leaning over tables so that her arse sticks out, begging to be grasped, and biting her lip to draw my eye to it. Even the lightest touch on my arm or brush of her fingers on my hand sets my skin ablaze. Gods, I’m desperate to tell her how I feel. I need to know if she feels the same. Yet, I cannot. We’ve become such good friends, and I couldn’t bear to make her uncomfortable if she doesn’t feel the same. Besides, she and Aunt Matilda are so close. I know my aunt loves me, but she is certain I would lead her into trouble. Aunt Matilda told me as much herself when she first arrived last year. Can’t imagine why she thinks so, though. I’m sure my aunt already warned her against me, and, even if she would give me a chance despite it, Aunt Matilda would never approve.

You almost missed it. The key phrase that made everything click into place: when she first arrived last year. He was talking about you. Fantasizing about you. Your skin tingled as a thrill ran up your spine. You were desperate to read more, but the sound of someone ascending the steps had you snapping the book shut. You tried to pull the drawer open, but it didn’t budge. You shoved the diary between random tomes on one of the desk’s shelves just before the door swung open. You were trembling with adrenaline.

“Good afternoon! Sorry I’m late. Aunt Matilda was extra chatty today,” he said brightly.

“Hi! No need to apologize, Garreth,” you replied as naturally as you could while feeling breathless and like your heart was about to beat out of your throat.

You saw his smile brighten a bit at the use of his name, and you couldn’t help the smirk that played on your lips. “Ready to ring in the new year?” he asked.

It was December 31st, and you two had plans to attend a party in Hogsmeade.

“Actually, Garreth, I was thinking we could hang out here for a while,” you said. You were eager to experiment with the knowledge you had gained. “I don’t want to start partying too early.”

Garreth sat on the side of his bed, facing you. His knee was mere inches from yours. “Okay. What would you like to do? We could bundle up and play summoner’s court, or we could nick some hot cocoa from the kitchens and hang out in the common room by the fire.”

As you looked in his emerald eyes, it was like you had never really seen them. You had always averted your gaze so quickly, afraid he’d see into your soul and reveal the feelings you worked so hard to keep hidden. Now as you gazed into them, you could see the adoration with which he looked at you. “I figured we could just stay up here for a while, Garreth,” you said. You wanted privacy.

He tilted his head as he smiled at you. “Why do you keep saying my name?” he asked, bemused.

You shrugged. “It’s a nice name. Very strong. Masculine,” you said. “Don’t you think, Garreth?”

A blush crept onto his freckled cheeks. “I guess so,” he said sheepishly.

You chucked. “I can stop if you’d rather, though,” you said seriously.

“No,” he blurted out far too quickly. “I mean…you don’t have to.”

The corners of your mouth ticked up again. “Good,” you said. “Because I like saying your name, Garreth.” You let your knee bump against his.

Garreth’s heart was racing. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that he liked it, whatever it was.

You let your fingers rest on his forearm. “Do you like it?” you asked.

His gaze shifted from your hand to your eyes. He looked at you with a furrowed brow. “What?”

You gave him your most innocent expression. “Do you like it? When I say your name?”

He stared at you, wide-eyed and lips parted. Was he dreaming? He felt like he was awake, but surely you would only say such things in his dreams. He just nodded, unable to find any words.

Your smirk grew. You were loving the effect you were having on the ginger lad. “What about watching me impale myself on your prick? Would you like that?”

Garreth may well have been part mooncalf with how wide his eyes were now. He had reread his own words enough times to recognize them immediately. His eyes flicked to his desk, searching for the familiar cover. He spotted it quickly on the shelf – very much not where he had left it. “I can explain,” he said in a panicked tone.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the corners turned down. “Seemed pretty self-explanatory to me,” you mused.

“Where was–I mean, how did you–?” he stammered to his shoes.

“I was just tapping on your desk as I read through some notes, and the drawer popped open,” you said.

He shook his head in disbelief at his bad luck. “I’m so sorry you had to read that,” he said, his gaze still downcast.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at your frantic friend. “Garreth, look at me,” you said.

He winced as his eyes flitted up to your face. He was surprised by what he saw. He expected you to be scowling, maybe borderline murderous. Instead, he found an amused, slightly arrogant smile. Your eyes scanned his face, lingering on his lips. You trapped your own lip between your teeth as you stared at him with unmistakable lust.

Your eyes met his as you spoke. “I’m not sorry at all that I read it. In fact, I was hoping to read more before I heard you coming.”

He could feel the desire burning in his stomach immediately. He repeated your words in his mind several times, checking if there was any possibility that he could be misinterpreting them. Once he was certain he understood you correctly, he was leaning over you, his hands resting on the edges of your chair. His face hovered a few treacherous inches from yours as he looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Why don’t I show you instead, love?” he asked.

You grabbed his tie and pulled him down so his lips met yours. You tangled a hand in his ginger curls, and his hands slid up your thighs as he kissed you back fiercely. He ran his tongue along your lower lip, entreating you for entry. Your lips parted, and his tongue slid along your own, exploring your mouth. Garreth pulled back beaming at you. You were both panting for air.

“So, I’ll take that as a ‘yes’?” he teased.

You bit your lip again as you nodded. “I’m quite curious about your dream in the astronomy tower,” you said as you gazed into his verdant eyes.

He gave you a devilish smile before hoisting you straight up from the chair. You let out a surprised squeal before giggling. He was careful not to hit your head as he laid you on his bed. His tongue darted out across his lips as he looked down at you like a starved chimera at a rabbit. His eyes glinted with desire. “I’ve been rather curious about it myself.”

#garreth weasley #hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #garreth weasley fanfic #garreth weasley fanfiction

[xmalereader]

Tom Riddle X Male Reader

-

|| Masterlist ||

-

Authors Note: I was writing this idea out so well until I read the request again and found out that the reader is paralyzed, my dumbass misread it and I had to go back and make so many corrections 😅, but either way, I hope you enjoy it and sorry if it feels short!

Requested: I have been meaning to ask this request for so long~ Maybe Tom Riddle being the all perfect boy of Slytherin falling for the paralyzed sweet [Y/N] of Hufflepuff who goes around the school in his broomstick. [Y/N] helps people like those who are tricked by Parvees in the wrong staircase, things flying to the ceiling due to a spell gone worng or getting things from high selves of the library. And Tom just can't help but fall in love with him and is just a total simp. It can be totally fluffy but you can add hints of angst, all to your choice

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, mentions of bullying, reader is paralyzed, Tom is soft, Tom is also a bit of an asshole, cute moments.

Word count: 2k

Tags: @nobodylivesson

—

—

Tom riddle lived in his own world, he was in control of everything and everyone around him. Many students at Hogwarts have tried to get him into trouble but he was far too perfect of a student to be doing anything wrong. All of the professors and previous students knew that Tom Riddle is the perfect of Hogwarts and of the Slytherin house.

He gained everyone’s respect and got what he wanted. Well, almost everything. It all started at the beginning of his sixth year in Hogwarts, new students were coming into the school and being sorted out into their houses. Tom never payed attention to these ceremonies, always ignoring them and instead focused on a book he was reading or trying to enjoy his food while everyone cheered on.

The only time he ever looked up was when a new student was announced to be in the same year as him. It was rare to have late student join Hogwarts, the boy used to attend school back in America but had moved here instead and found a way to attend Hogwarts.

When Tom looked up, his eyes meet the new boy, who stood in front of everyone. He was the last to be sorted into his house, becoming the spotlight for everyone. The boy didn’t seem nervous or anxious, instead he stepped forward and sat down on the chair while he was sorted into his new house. He didn’t expect the sorting hat to yell out Hufflepuff, startling the young boy while the Hufflepuff table cheered.

Tom eyes the boy, looking him up and down. He shakes his head, telling himself to ignore the new sixth year and to focus on his studies, ignoring the other students talking as he concentrates on his book. But the thought of the new student kept coming to mind, losing concentration on his book, reading the same sentence over and over again to the point where he slammed his book shut, startling a few students around him.

He sighs deeply and lifts his gaze, shifting his eyes around the room until they land on the Hufflepuff who sat on the opposite side of the room. Tom watched as he spoke with others around him, interacting with them and quickly making friends. Tom wants to roll his eyes, not knowing why. He didn’t know why he kept thinking about him, he should’ve ignored him like he does to everyone else.

His eyes remain on the Hufflepuff, before he pull his gaze away he froze. His eyes widening softly as he takes in the new Hufflepuff smiling. That smile—Tom feels his heart beating fast and his face growing red. His eyes grow wide in horror as he shakes his head and stands up startled. He couldn’t, no—he shouldn’t be feeling this way.

“What’s the matter?” He hears Malfoy ask him, sitting on his left side while a concerned look on his face. Tom clears his throat. “It’s nothing.” He is quick to respond, gathering his things. “I need to check on something, round up the first years after dinner and take them to the common room. I’ll be there shortly.” Tom instructs Malfoy before storming out.

Tom couldn’t think straight, he was far too focused on the thought of the new Hufflepuff that he nearly crashes into a wall.

“Watch it!” One of the paintings shouts at him, which he glared back in return. He walks away from the paintings and towards an empty space. Tom groans to himself, leaning his head against the stone wall as he thinks about the way he’s feeling and reacting, he’s seen other student react this way before. They only react like this when they’ve fallen in love or gained an attraction towards someone.

Tom riddle had fallen for a Hufflepuff boy and he couldn’t stop thinking about him.

—

The first time he meets the Hufflepuff their outside in the court yard, he’s sitting on a bench reading a book when he hears shouting that causes him to look up. He sees a young Ravenclaw girl, probably a second year, sitting on top of a tree. She’s holding on tight and afraid from how high she is, before Tom can stand up and do anything about it, he is quickly beaten by the Hufflepuff boy who rode on a broomstick, helping the young girl down as he smiles at her.

As they moved closer to the ground he helps her off and waved off the second year. Tom raised a brow, suddenly approaching the Hufflepuff. “Broomsticks aren’t allowed in the court yard.” He blurts out, sounding off a bit rude.

The other looks up at him and opens and closes his mouth. “But I need it.” He says. “Need it? I doubt you need to ride that thing around. The professors won’t be too happy to know that you are using it.”

The boy glared at him. “First of all, the Professors and headmaster already know that I need to use this broom to get around.”

“And why is that?” Tom crossed his arms over his chest.

“I can’t walk.”

Tom scoffs. “You we’re walking just fine during the sorting.”

“I was using a special potion that can help me walk, I don’t use it as much since it affects me mentally and my magic.” He explains, causing Tom to close his mouth quickly. The Slytherin Prince starts to feel embarrassed by his attitude and the way he questioned him.

Tom looks away, ashamed of himself. “I apologize for my rudeness, that’s something I didn’t know. I was simply following the rules and didn’t want you to get into trouble.” He explains himself.

The other chuckles. “Of course you were, the Slytherin Prince of Hogwarts is always perfect.” The Hufflepuff had moved close to Tom, poking him on the ribs in a teasing matter. “Goodbye Tommy.” He adds, leaving the perfect flustered and red faced.

Tom doesn’t see him again until two days later, during his time alone he was able to find out the Hufflepuffs name and a bit more about his history. He’s heard stories or more like rumors, about Y/n and his family and why they moved to London. Others said that it was due to business while others claimed to be bullying and how much Y/n struggled with the ability to stay in school and deal with the terrible treatment.

Tom didn’t know what to believe and he didn’t want to believe anything until he’s gotten the full story from Y/n himself. He’s grown curious of him, wanting to get closer to him. But, he always held himself back. Not knowing what to say or how to start a conversation, he was unsure if Y/n even liked him after their little incident in the courtyard. He didn’t want to say anything else that could offend Y/n or possibly anger him.

Tom walks down the corridors during the weekend, all students were either visiting hogsmade or exploring around the castle and doing their own thing. Tom was on his way to the library when he hears shouting and laughter from a distance, causing him to raise a brow as he walks faster towards the noise.

He steps out into the court yard, watching a group of Slytherin and Ravenclaw circling around Y/n, picking on him and laughing as they tried to take his broom, shoving him off. Tom is quick to react, running up to the group and shoving the students aside, catching Y/n before he hits the ground.

“What in the bloody hell is wrong with you all?!” Tom shouts, anger boiling inside of him as he cradled Y/n close, glaring at the students. He carefully gets up and helps Y/n back on his broom. “You should be ashamed of yourselves.” Tom hissed out, turning his attention back to the other students who froze in fear at the sight of Hogwarts Prince.

“I don’t think you’d be happy if I were to report this to the headmaster? I think he should know about the mistreatment you’ve all been giving Y/n.” He threatens.

“We didn’t mean too.” One Ravenclaw stutters out, trying to guilt trip him but it wasn’t working on Tom. He was far too furious to feel guilty, stepping forward he says. “If I see you tormenting Y/n again, I wont hesitate to make the rest of your year a living hell.” He Said, voice growing dark startling the students away, leaving them alone.

Toms shoulders relax as he turns back to face Y/n. “Thank you.” He hears him whisper out, head down while picking on some wood from his broomstick. “Have they’ve been doing this a lot?” Tom questions.

“Not really, only once or twice. I’m used it.”

Tom frowns at his words. “I’m guessing you’ve dealt with this also in America?” Y/n bites his lip nervously, looking away and shrugging his shoulders. “It’s complicated.”

“We have time.” Tom was willing to listen, offering his hand to Y/n to take in order to sit down. Y/n takes toms hand, gasping in surprise when Tom gathers him in his arms, stepping backwards, not wanting to get the broom in the way and tripping them up.

Tom takes another step back, tripping over a rock. His eyes widen, hearing Y/n squeak as he keeps his arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly. Tom doing the same as he holds him in his arms and stumbles back against a tree, slamming his back against it and knocking the wind out of him.

“Shit.” Tom wheezed out, slowly sliding down to the ground and gently letting go of Y/n. “Oh!—are you alright?” Y/n removes himself from Toms lap, giving him space to breath again. “I’m sorry.”

Tom shakes his head, groaning. “Don’t apologize, my fault.” He assured him. Once he’s able to breath again he makes sure to reassure Y/n since the young boy was panicking and his eyes full of worry. After things get cleared up the two are sitting side by side, quiet and alone.

“I’m sorry if I got you upset the other day.” Tom decides to speak up, looking straight ahead. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t—not many people know about my situation.” Y/n gives Tom a smile. “A lot of kids back in America teased me—bullied me, actually. I didn’t enjoy my time their, could barely make it to class without them picking on me or taking my broom away. It was a hard time and I didn’t tell my parents about it,” he sighs to himself. “But my parents did in the end, found out that I was failing a lots and approached my headmaster about it. They told my parents about my situation and how I was being treated. It caused my parents to grow upset, pulling me out of school and forcing me to stay home.” He taps his fingers on his thighs, focusing on something else and not wanting to meet Toms gaze.

“I could have gone to a muggle school, but my parents didn’t want that. So, we moved here due to my parents business but also a good opportunity to start fresh and possibly a new school too.”

“But it still remained the same.” Tom whispers back, getting a silent nod in return. The two sit silently against the tree, taking in the cool breeze as Tom, sits up in his spot. “That won’t happen anymore, not when I’m here.” He suddenly says, catching them by surprise. “After what happened today I don’t think they’ll be bugging you anymore.” He clarifies, standing from his spot and giving Y/n a soft smile. He offers his hand to him, which he takes, making Tom bend down and help him back up by slipping his arm underneath his legs.

Y/n blushed softly as Tom carried him over to his broom and helps him sit. “Think you’ll be alright from here?” Tom asks.

Y/n nodded his head. “I’ll be fine.” He bites his lip. “Thank you—for helping, again.” Tom lets a chuckle slip from his lips. “I’m glad to help.”

“Would, would it be okay if we can talk again? Maybe, be friends?” Y/n questions. Ever since he came to Hogwarts he hasn’t made a single friend. No one wanted to be near him or wanted to speak with him, he only spoke to a few students here and there and helped them out but no one tried to befriend him.

“How about the library tomorrow afternoon? I’d like some peace and quiet and maybe you can help me with some studies.” Tom requests, earning a wide smile from the other who nods frantically. “Of course! I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/n Waves tom off, flying off and leaving tom alone.

Toms lips form a small smile at the thought of seeing the Hufflepuff again.

#male reader #Tom riddle x male reader #Tom riddle #Harry Potter #harry potter x male reader #Slytherin #enemies to friends to lovers #one shot #request

[moviesludge]

My tumblr posts are an apartment building where i live and i can hear ppl (rebloggers) yapping through the walls & floors about how they dislike the movie from the gif that they themselves reblogged and i’m hitting my ceiling with a broomstick yelling shyaddap’nneyah

[akioukun]

Moments before a whole-ass broomstick busted through the ceiling.

Some more screengrab studies, as a treat. For funsies. And because I don’t want to work on my final film for uni right now

#stranger things fanart #stranger things 4 #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #steddie #ronance #art #stranger things

[sunflowerabyss]

Charms of Fate: Chapter 7

Paring: Remus Lupin x Fem!Professor!Reader

Series Masterlist

Plot: Amidst the echoes of a bygone era, you return to Hogwarts years after parting ways with Hogwarts. What begins as a journey fueled by nostalgia transforms into an unexpected reunion with Remus Lupin, now a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. As the past intertwines with the present, the two former classmates navigate the complexities of grief, the resurgence of friendship, and the unwritten chapters of their shared history in this tale of rediscovery and the magic that binds them together.

Warnings: none, I think, but let me know if otherwise.

__________________________________________________

As the night grew more tense, you found yourself in the Great Hall, surrounded by students who were sleeping there for safety. Some teachers patrolled the castle and grounds, eyes alert for any sign of Sirius Black. Amidst the hushed murmurs, you overheard Snape's irritating voice engaging in conversation with Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, I believe I mentioned something about my concern for a certain staff member," Snape insisted.

Dumbledore, calm and collected, cut him off. "Severus, no one has allowed Black inside the castle. We have measures in place to ensure the safety of everyone."

You couldn't help but smirk at Dumbledore's dismissal of Snape's concerns. The conversation continued, but you gazed up at the enchanted ceiling, depicting the night sky with the swirling Milky Way above. Your eyes focused on the moon, and thoughts of Remus filled your mind.

_____________________________________________________

On this heavily stormy day, you find yourself shivering from the cold as you watch the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff unfold. The atmosphere is tense, more so than usual, perhaps due to the recent events that transpired the night before. The game is chaotic, the broomsticks weaving through the turbulent winds, and the players struggling to maintain control.

Your attention is fixed on the two seekers, Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory, if memory serves correctly. They ascend higher and higher, disappearing behind the heavy and dense clouds. Many spectators have shifted their focus to the field, but you can't help but keep your eyes on the spot where the two young wizards vanished.

As you watch with a tight chest, a figure falls from the clouds—it's the Hufflepuff seeker. Panic sets in, but relief washes over you as he regains control of his broom, taking a moment to stop and recollect himself before darting back into the clouds. However, the sense of relief is short-lived as another figure plummets, seemingly unresponsive--it's unmistakably Harry. A collective gasp is heard through the stadium.

The pounding of your heart echoes in your ears as you watch, helpless. In the corner of your eye, you see Dumbledore standing up, his commanding voice cutting through the storm, "Arresto Momentum!" The incantation hangs in the air, a desperate plea to halt the fall and save a life. The entire stadium holds its breath, waiting for the spell's effect to unfold in the violent sky.

Cedric manages to seize the golden opportunity presented by Harry's fall. He dives skillfully, snatching the elusive snitch from the air. The Hufflepuff victory is bittersweet, as the primary concern lies with Harry's well-being.

Amidst the cheers and celebrations from Hufflepuff, you observe the Gryffindor house, witnessing the collective worry etched on their faces. The win seems hollow in comparison to the anxiety and concern for their friend. As a couple of teachers hurry onto the field to attend to Harry and take him to Madam Pomfrey, you can't shake the lingering distress.

Shaken by the Quidditch match, you hesitate before leaving the stadium. Near the entrance, you overhear Dumbledore and Minerva engaged in a hushed yet intense conversation about the breach of Dementors on the school grounds.

Dumbledore's voice resonates with fury, a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor. "Minerva, this is unacceptable. What is the Ministry thinking? How did Dementors breach the school's protective wards?"

Minerva, her expression a mix of concern and frustration, replies, "I'm not sure, I'm afraid."

You can't help but interject, stepping into the dimly lit corridor. "Dumbledore, what happened? Are the students in danger?"

Dumbledore, acknowledging your presence, sighs heavily. "It seems Dementors have infiltrated the school grounds. I will sort this out with Fudge immediately," Dumbledore's gaze flickers to you. "In the meantime, please do go get warm professors. The weather is quite nasty today."

You waste no time and quickly Apparate into your room, seeking the warmth of the crackling fire. After donning some warmer clothes, you decide to head to the kitchen for a comforting drink. To your surprise, you find Remus there, stealthily snatching a couple of chocolate chip cookies. He looks better than the last time you saw how, though he still looks tired. There's a warmth in his eyes as he turns to look at you, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.

"Well, well, if it isn't the cookie bandit caught in the act," you tease, leaning against the kitchen doorway.

Remus chuckles, holding the pilfered cookies defensively. "Guilty as charged. It's just the perfect time for a little mischief, don't you think?"

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Mischief? Or just a craving for sweets?"

"Bit of both, perhaps," he admits, a playful glint in his eyes. "But the real question is, are you here to join me or report me to the cookie authorities?"

You feign consideration, tapping your chin. "Hmm, tough decision. I might need a bribe to keep this quiet."

Remus grins, extending the bag of cookies toward you. "Consider this your hush-money then."

Taking a cookie from the bag, you give him a mock stern look. "This better not become a routine escapade, Lupin."

"Oh, you have my word, dear," he says, winking. "Unless, of course, you want to join me in the glorious pursuit of evening snacks?"

With a laugh shared between you two, he gestures you to follow him.

You follow Remus to his office, where a dim glow emanates from the soft candlelight, casting shadows on stacks of papers marked with red notes and grades. Remus gestures for you to take a seat in one of the worn armchairs as he continues sorting through the scattered mess.

"Grading, I see?" you comment, your eyes scanning the sea of parchment.

Remus chuckles, taking a seat behind his desk. "Caught me red-handed. Needed a break, though. I can only stare at essays for so long before my brain starts protesting."

You join him, sipping on the hot chocolate you managed to conjure. "I understand. Half the time I think I just like to torture myself with the written work I assign."

Remus grins, leaning back in his chair. "Ah, the classic love-hate relationship with grading. I'm convinced every teacher has a secret stash of chocolate to get through it."

"I'm sure you're the only one who has a secret stash of chocolate, Remus."

You share a laugh, but the conversation takes a more serious turn when you bring up the incident with the dementors at the Quidditch game. Remus's expression shifts from amusement to shock.

"Dementors on the school grounds?" he exclaims, concern etched across his features.

You recount the chaotic events that unfolded during the match, emphasizing Harry's fall and the subsequent appearance of the dementors. Remus listens intently, his worry deepening with each detail.

"That's quite concerning," he says, running a hand through your hair. "Do you think Dumbledore is handling it?"

You nod. "He is. I talked to him and Minerva before I left. He said he was going to speak to Fudge as soon as possible. Still, it's disconcerting to think about dementors being so close to the students."

The office falls into an uneasy silence, the air thick with unspoken words. You can feel the weight of the knowledge you carry about Remus's lycanthropy pressing against your conscience. The internal conflict intensifies--part of you yearns to break the silence and reveal what you know, while the other hesitates, fearing the repercussions of such a revelation.

Breaking the tension, you finally speak, your voice carefully measured. "I haven't seen you around lately. Everything alright?"

Remus, ever the master of maintaining composure, flashes a reassuring smile. "Just caught up with work, you know how it goes. The life of a Hogwarts professor."

You take a moment, swirling the hot chocolate in your cup, contemplating your next words. "It's been a few days. How have you been?"

Remus leans back, attempting casual nonchalance. "Busy, busy. Grading, as you see, preparing for the next lesson."

Your gaze sharpens, and you pick up on the subtle nuances in his expression – a weariness beneath the surface, a hint of guardedness. The internal struggle intensifies as you decide whether to confront him or continue the charade. "Glad to hear it. DADA can be demanding."

He nods, eyes lingering on yours a fraction longer than usual, as if searching for something. "And how about you? Managing well?"

You take a deep breath, contemplating your next move. The tension hangs in the air, thick and palpable. The silence stretches, a heavy veil over the room, and in a sudden surge of resolve, you blurt out, "I know."

Remus, who had been maintaining a facade of casual conversation, tenses visibly. His eyes, once relaxed, now betray a flicker of apprehension. You watch as the lines of weariness deepen on his face, and a guarded expression settles in.

Remus, ever the master of composure, attempts to play it off with a forced chuckle. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he says, his voice straining to sound nonchalant.

But you interrupt him, your own voice steadier than you anticipated. "Don't," you assert, a mix of sympathy and understanding in your gaze. "You don't have to pretend with me, Remus. I've known for a while."

Remus looks at you, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his eyes. "How did you…?"

You give him a small smile. "Connected the dots. The disappearances, the potion from Snape, and then I heard he assigned an essay on werewolves. It all fell into place."

He chuckles, a bitter sound that echoes in the room. "Always the observant one, aren't you?"

Remus hesitates, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions evident on his face. He battles with the fear of rejection, the worry of burdening you with his lycanthropy, and the undeniable comfort of having someone who knows the truth.

You, sensing his inner turmoil, decide to bridge the gap. Gently, you reach out and take his hand. Remus is acutely aware of the stark contrast between your soft, small hand and his larger, calloused one.

"I was waiting for the right time to tell you," he admits, his gaze dropping to your intertwined hands. "I just never expected you to find out like this."

As Remus tenses, you look into his eyes with a reassuring gaze. "Remus, knowing about your condition doesn't change the way I feel about you. You're not defined by your lycanthropy."

He withdraws his hand, a defensive look clouding his expression. "You don't understand. I'm dangerous, a monster. You have no business being associated with someone like me."

You lean in, your voice unwavering. "Remus, you're not a monster. You're a kind, caring person, and I won't let your condition overshadow who you are."

Remus struggles with conflicting emotions, torn between his self-perception and your unwavering support. The weight of his secret begins to lift, yet the fear of rejection still lingers in his eyes.

Remus is silent for a moment, his gaze flickering with a mix of emotions. "I care about you more than I should," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't… I can't be with you the way I want. I don't want to hurt you."

You shake your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

In the quiet office, you reach out and gently cup Remus' face, your thumb brushing across his cheek. "You're not alone, you know," you begin. "There isn't a day that hasn't gone by where I don't worry about you. You don't have to carry this burden by yourself."

He looks into your eyes, vulnerability laid bare. A soft smile plays on your lips as you lean in, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. The moment lingers, a reassurance that transcends words. Remus, despite his reservations, begins to feel the warmth of acceptance and understanding, and for the first time in a long while, the weight on his shoulders starts to ease.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #older!remus lupin #older!remus lupin x reader #professor!remus lupin x reader #professor!remus lupin #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #hogwarts #jk rowling