Umm My Contribution To This Fandom Is A Debate Topic.

Uprising

Tom Riddle x F!Reader

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MINORS DNI 🔞

hi this is my first time writing for tumblr, and im starting off with a whopper. i dont know what all the trigger warnings are supposed to be but i tried my best to be accomodating. also my ass did NOT research but hopefully my memory should suffice and i did my best to keep characters and stuff accurate or at least adjacent. im on mobile btw so im sorry if any formatting is weird but yeah, this one is uh...pretty dark so yeah, hope you enjoy :)

TW: smut, oral (m receiving), master/slave dynamic, bloodlust, bodily harm, very very kinky Tom

PROMPT: This takes place in the infancy of his rise to becoming the Dark Lord. Y/N has been the only one to manage to get somewhat close to Tom, being his first real devoted follower, but does he really love her or is she simply a tool for power and pleasure?

Word count: 1.8k

The stone floor was cold and dry, just like the rest of the manor that had been the base of operations for Tom Riddle, or as his followers know him, Lord Voldemort. The only warmth in the room came from the hearth, which bathed the room in an eerie, orange glow. The light of a fireplace would usually be calming and comforting; yet when juxtaposed with the topic being discussed with the Dark Lord and a table full of his followers, it was as if it filled the room with an ironic coldness.

The table that stood starkly in the middle of the room sat only around ten people. Some belonged to the Black and Malfoy families, as they had the power, wealth, and influence to help spread the message of their uprising. The rest, however, were friends that Tom had made during his time at Hogwarts. He had promised them glory and power should they choose to side with him. And he had the power of the Blacks and Malfoys at his side, so why would they ever question him?

"Remember what we have discussed today, and we shall put our plan into action. This will take much care and caution to execute, lest we wish to be exposed and our movement snuffed out. You may go, and I will call upon you again when need be."

The voice of the Dark Lord reverberated throughout the room, cold and authoritative. With every word that came from his lips, it felt to his followers that he was speaking snakes into existence, coiling around their throats and threatening to squeeze if they so much as spoke a word out of turn. Tom Riddle was a handsome man, with curly, jet black hair that he made sure was always neatly maintained. His brown eyes always seemed to see right through people as if they were ghosts (and depending on who he's looking at, they soon would be). The way he carried himself and strode about the halls with his head high simply screamed that he was entirely fit to be a Dark Lord. The very perception of him was perfect, like someone you would see in a painted portrait hanging in the hall of a lavish castle.

But of course, those thoughts stayed in Y/N's mind as the occupants of the table stood and made their way to the hearth to take the floo network back to wherever they needed to be. The floo flame now bathed the room in a green hue as the Death Eaters made their exit, while the Dark Lord remained seated at the head of the table with his most faithful servant at his side.

On her knees, at his side, as he preferred. Y/N was his queen, yes, but he also still saw her as his inferior. This was commonplace at these meetings; Y/N on her knees at his side as the Dark Lord gave his orders, her head and arms draped across his lap, and a collar around her throat. The leash, of which, he kept a firm hold of. It was all a display of power and of status, complete ownership of another living soul. She had been the first one to bear the Dark Mark on her forearm, and with that, comes special treatment. Y/N was permitted the place as his right hand, able to give orders so long that they do not undermine his own. She was also given the privilege of warming his bed and knowing just enough of his plans and secrets to make her feel special and more complicit in his plots. Little pieces, crumbs of information to make her feel like she was his most trusted confidant.

As the last of the Death Eaters disappeared into the emerald flames, the Dark Lord pulled Y/N to her feet by the leash he always kept a tight hold on. Now that they were alone, he was free to slip on his other mask: the mask of the lover. Now, he was simply Tom.

"Come now, my dear, let us retreat to my chambers for the night. You look exhausted, and I don't say I blame you. Listening to that lot blabbering on about their imbecilic ideas exhausts me as well, at times."

"Of course, my Lord."

Y/N knew exactly what he was implying, as it had become a nightly occurrence. Tom would want to be pleasured by her and, to his credit, he would pay the favor back in kind. He opened the door to his chambers, which were always kept spotless and neat. The emerald blankets that adorned his bed were crisply tucked in and smooth, and there was scarcely a drop of wax on the nightstands on either side from the lit candlesticks. But Tom took a seat on the side of the bed regardless, though Y/N swore she saw his eye twitch as he saw the sheets crease underneath the weight of him. He gave a sharp tug of the leash, pulling her closer to him, and almost making her stumble.

"Kneel."

He did not have to tell her twice. She had learned the heard way that it was unwise to make him tell her twice. Y/N dropped to her knees in front of him, patiently awaiting orders. This was what life was like for her now, and she was perfectly happy with it. When it came down to it, she was still Tom's queen, and truly the one that he respected most. The thought gave her warmth as he thoroughly debased and degraded her every night after the business of the day had been dealt with. All of his frustrations, his tension, his stress, it all went into her. His queen, his pet, his slave.

"You know what to do."

Tom said flatly, in the sardonic and authoritative tone that always coated his words. And as Tom ordered, Y/N did. Her hands moved to unbutton and unzip his trousers, pulling the fabric of that and his undergarments down only enough to free his member, which stood proudly at attention just as the rest of him did every day. That was the only degree to which Y/N was allowed to undress him; Tom had always preferred to do any undressing himself, if he even did at all. But something about witnessing how eagerly and desperately his queen wished to free his cock from its cloth prison aroused him, so he had kindly allowed her that privilege.

Y/N's tongue ran up the underside of his length and swirled around his tip before her lips wrapped around it and moved back and forth. Tom was an impatient man, and did not like to be teased or kept waiting. Soon enough, his hand was tangled in her hair, almost as if he was petting her, before grabbing a tight fistful of it and forcing himself further down her throat. This meeting had been particularly grating, and he needed a release now. He moved the head of his lover back and forth on his cock, reveling in the feeling of her hot, slimy throat clenching around him. Y/N would never get a single moan out of Tom; only heavy and labored breaths, if she was lucky.

Soon, he felt he was on the edge of his release, and his hips bucked a little to fuck the throat of his queen. His queen, no one else's. Y/N was his property, his object, and no one would be able to take her from him. Tom let out a long sigh as he spilled his seed down Y/N's throat, which he had sheathed himself fully into, and with her dutifully swallowing every drop. After it was finished, Tom released his hold on her hair and allowed her to pull back and breathe for a moment.

"Tonight is going to be a little different, my pet. Strip completely and lay down on the bed."

"Yes, my lord. How will tonight be different, though?"

"Do not question me, you shall see soon enough."

Tom commanded coldly, though his voice was laced with a sadistic hunger. Y/N conceded to her Lord and master with a nod, making quick work of her clothes as she let them stay in a pile on the floor. Tom pulled her by her leash to the bed, where she laid comfortably on her back, hands at her sides.

"Now, we are going to try something a little different. It will only bring you pain, no pleasure, so be forewarned. The only pleasure now will be had by me. I must please ask you not to squirm or scream, or else it will end badly for you. Understood, my pet?"

Y/N nodded as he tucked himself back into his trousers and made himself proper again. Tom was now completely dressed, and had stated that Y/N would be receiving no pleasure, so what did he plan to do? Every question running through her head was soon answered as he pulled a dagger from the drawer of his bedside cabinet, studying it carefully. His eyes, which still were even sharper than the dagger he held in his bony hand, darted to the chest of his lover, eyeing the flesh hungrily.

Leaning down, his eyes never leaving the spot above her right breast he had fixated on, he slowly dragged the blade across the soft skin, down her chest, leaving a trail of red in its wake. Y/N hissed in pain, but did not dare move out of position. The blade stopped in the middle of her chest, below her breasts, before mirroring the mark he made on her right side to her left. On complete impulse, Tom laid the bloodied dagger on the nightstand and ran his tongue across the mark he just made. He did not cut deep enough to cause major injury, though it would definitely leave a scar, from the way it was weeping blood. The Dark Lord relished the metallic taste of her essence, letting it rest on his tongue, and letting it drip down his throat. The taboo and unnatural act he was performing was almost euphoric, and it made him feel powerful, as if he was a dementor sucking the very soul out of her body. When Tom was satisfied and Y/N's bleeding had ceased, he sat back up and gazed hungrily down at the chest of his queen, at the work he had done.

Now, Y/N was perfect to him.

Cut across her chest, was the letter V. V for the new name he had chosen for himself. A V to mark his property, a scarlet letter emblazoned upon her body so that she may never forget who she serves. And if ever she does forget, Tom would make absolute certain to remind her.

---

Admittance

Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

18+ MDNI

Tags: first time, cluelessness, p in v, some angst if you squint?, interruption, oral (f receiving), choking/leash?

Word Count: 8.3k

"Ah, there you are." Sebastian said.

His face bore the usual composed smile, and his short, brown, curly hair remained tousled atop his head. Freckles dotted his cheeks, while his deep brown eyes exuded arrogance and confidence. Y/N looked up from her Herbology book at her best friend, Sebastian. The two had been friends since their fifth year, and here they were now, going to gradute this year.

Sebastian looked tired and a tad sweaty, appearing as if he had run down every flight of stairs in the whole of Hogwarts. And apparently, he had been searching for her. And here she was in the library, studying for her Herbology exam. Why had he not thought to look here first?

"Are you alright? You look dreadful."

Y/N bookmarked her page and closed the textbook, looking up at her freckled friend.

"I've been trying to find you," he said, his voice tinged with exhaustion. He sat in the seat next to her, looking somewhat dejected and out of place.

"I have something very important to tell you."

His deep brown eyes gazed intently into Y/N's, his expression a strange mix of nervousness and confidence. Her brows furrowed slightly at the urgency in his voice. Oh Merlin, had he been out on some ludicrous errand again?

"Yes, I'm listening. What is it, Seb?"

She turned her body to face him, giving him her full attention. Sebastian took a deep breath and looked down for a moment, before meeting Y/N's eyes and finally saying the words he had rehearsed in his head over and over again.

"Y/N, I've been meaning to tell you this for a very, very long time. Since fifth year, in fact. But I could never find the courage..."

He seemed to be struggling to keep his emotions in check, and his voice was shaking slightly.

"...I'm in love with you."

Both of their faces flushed a deep shade of crimson as she stared at him with a dazed expression. No... He doesn't really like me, right? Did someone put him up to this?

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

He was quiet for a moment, the silence broken only by his shallow breathing. His gaze remained locked on Y/N's, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear, like a soldier preparing for battle. After a few moments of painful tension, he spoke again:

"I know we've been friends for a while," he said, "but I was too shy to express my feelings before. Maybe I still am."

He paused again, looking for some response from Y/N. She blinked a few times before she actually processed his words, and then she flushed a deep cherry red. This wasn't a joke, she knew he would never play around with her feelings like that. Sebastian was silly, sure, but he's not mean.

"O-Oh, well... I, um..."

Her hands started fiddling with the collar of her shirt as she always did when she was nervous.

"Look, if you don't feel the same way, that's..."

His voice trailed off, his expression now a mixture of embarrassment and hope.

"It's fine, I would understand..."

After a long pause, he finished his thought.

"But I was too scared to say anything before. And I know I should've probably just kept those feelings to myself, but I couldn't help it."

He looked down again and took a deep breath, waiting for Y/N's answer. It was now or never, she had to tell him. The anger in her was quickly rising though; why did he have to admit this now of all times? She had felt this way about him for ages, and thought he didn't see her the same way.

"Sebastian, why didn't you tell me earlier on? Right when I start to move on, you come out with this and make me confused all over again."

Y/N's voice raised a little, but her tone was more exasperated than accusatory. Sebastian looked surprised at her forcefulness, her words a total shock to him.

"Wait, you've...you've liked me?" he asked.

He could feel his heart leaping in his chest.

"I thought you were already over me..."

His voice was filled with both hope and confusion.

"Are you not?"

"Not completely, I still have feelings for you, but..."

All Y/N would like to do at this very moment is just have a Graphorn bite her head off. It was hard telling him this, but he needed to know...

"I've already begun pursuing someone else? We aren't together, just flirting, but that's the situation."

A wave of sadness washed over Sebastian's face as he listened to her words.

"Oh... I understand."

His voice was quiet and somber, his gaze cast down towards his feet.

"I-I hope you'll be happy, Y/N."

He was clearly devastated, but his tone remained calm and collected. He paused for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek before looking back up at her.

"But what if it doesn't work out...?"

A sigh escaped Y/N's lips, not enjoying being put on the spot like this.

"Sebastian, I don't know who to pursue now. I really like you, but I'm beginning to really like him too. I just..."

Y/N trailed off, burying her face in her hands, wanting to simply disappear and not have this conversation at all. Yet Sebastian reached out and gently took her hands in his own all the same, rubbing her palms with his thumbs in an effort to comfort her.

"Look at me," he said.

He tilted Y/N's head up so that he could look at her eyes.

"Please listen. We've known each other since fifth year; we like the same things, we're best friends... I know you think you like...him, but if you could be with the one you already know and trust, wouldn't you choose that over some new fling?"

He paused for a few seconds, contemplating his next words carefully. He felt emasculated and slightly manipulative saying these things, but as he looked into her eyes, all of those feelings were put on the back burner.

"Please... choose me."

"Can we speak somewhere a little more private? I always feel listened to in here, and not in the good way..."

Her eyes met the bright green eyes of Garreth Weasley, who was the boy she had been pursuing. He shot her a silly smile laced with worry, and it was all she could do to not giggle at him. Y/N turned back to Sebastian and asked:

"We could go to the Undercroft? Or the Room of Requirement? So we can discuss this?"

"Yes, of course."

He squeezed her hand and gave it a little kiss before letting go. Sebastian rose from his seat and held out his hand, gesturing for Y/N to take it.

"Shall we go?"

Hesitantly, she grabbed a hold of his wrist and allowed him to lead her to wherever he was taking her.

"Of course, lead the way."

Even though she was wary of the conversation, Y/N felt a little warmth spread through her body upon touching him. All of the blood rushed to her face as he held her hand and she took a real look at him. Sure, he was cute in his fifth year, but over the past couple of years, he had grown taller so he nearly towered over her. He had filled out a lot better as well, and she could confidently say that he looked handsome. Sebastian slowly led Y/N out of the library, turning to face her as they headed down the corridor. He smiled warmly at her, his amber eyes shining with a glimmer of hope. Sebastian looked back behing him where Y/N was trailing along and took note of her increased height and curves, the flush of her cheeks, and the way her hair moved in the light breeze.

Y/N was far more attractive than she had been at the start of fifth year, and Sebastian's feelings for her were only growing as they headed towards their destination. After a bit of walking and a couple of flights of stairs, they soon found themselves at the Undercroft, which was the place the both of them and Ominis went when they needed to be alone. Although now that she was cured, Anne joined them down there too at times. The gate closed behind them, and Y/N sat down on the slightly dusty sofa in the cold stone room.

"So..."

Sebastian sat down beside her, looking her in the eyes.

"Yeah. So..."

Y/N could see the faint sparkle of tears in his eyes. Sebastian was clearly on the edge, and he felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

"Look, I know you like the other guy. But the truth is, I don't know if I can handle watching you spend that kind of time with him."

He paused for a moment to take a breath and get his thoughts properly aligned, then continued.

"All that time spent together... I don't just want you as my friend."

An uncomfortable and heavy silence weighed over the pair like a cold, wet blanket. It was only Y/N's words that cut through it.

"I feel the same way about you, Sebastian."

Bravely, she scooted a bit closer to him, their knees brushing together, and she noticed Sebastian tense up at the miniscule touch. Just how much did he really feel for her? Sebastian drew in a sharp breath as he felt her body brush against his own. He was speechless for a moment, trying desperately to process his own emotions and feelings.

"You... you like me?"

Sebastian's head was whirring with questions and he felt confused.

"But what about Garreth... I mean, I saw you together... "

"Let me deal with Garreth, okay? I'll wean him off the flirting, we haven't even admitted any feelings to each other, we were only flirtatious. He's sweet and a good friend, and I don't want to lose him."

Y/N took a deep breath as she saw Sebastian's eyes darken at her calling Garreth 'sweet'.

"Look, I want to make this work between us. I really do like you, Seb, and I have for ages..."

Her head settled on his left shoulder and she grabbed his hand in both of hers, the tangle of them resting on her right thigh. Sebastian was taken aback when Y/N placed her head on his shoulder and wrapped her hands around his. Her actions gave him the sudden urge to pull her close and kiss her right then and there. He felt overwhelmed by a wave of emotions and sensations, trying his best to keep his composure. He looked over, their faces only inches apart.

"Then what's stopping us...?"

Y/N could feel the rapid beating of his heart, his deep breaths brushing against the skin of her neck each time he leabed in to whisper into her ear. He cleared his throat and continued:

"What are we waiting for?"

"I..."

A proper sentence or even syllable couldn't even escape her lips. After all, Sebastian was right. What was stopping them from giving in to each other? Yet Y/N was still hesitant. She'd only ever kissed one person, but that was Leander Prewett in their second year; it was awkward and only lasted a moment or two.

Her head rose from his shoulder to stare back into his beautiful brown eyes. It would only take a slight push to close the gap between them, with how close they were to each other. Y/N parted her lips slightly, waiting for him to move in and close the gap for her. Sebastian held her gaze for what seemed like an eternity. His heart was racing so fast, he thought it would jump out of his chest altogether. He knew he shouldn't hesitate, but for some reason he felt scared, like a diricawl in a poacher's crosshairs. He took a deep breath, gathered all of his courage, and finally did it.

He moved his face towards Y/N's in one smooth motion and kissed her. It wasn't a peck on the cheeks or on the lips, but a full on kiss, filled with passion and emotion. That kiss was all Y/N needed to break down her inhibitions. Sebastian's lips were soft and slightly chapped, but the way they moved so well against her own, you'd think he had done this a thousand times before. One of her hands pried away from his to rest on his cheek, smooth and smattered with freckles. Her thumb stroked his face softly, but her whole body froze as his tongue grazed her lower lip. Sebastian's heart almost leapt out of his chest as his tongue was allowed to enter the equation. The soft caress of Y/N's thumb on his face and the heat building between their bodies felt amazing, and he desperately wanted more. He wanted to be touched, to be loved physically, to seal their feelings for each other with such an intimate act.

He slipped his arm behind Y/N's back and slowly pulled her closer, his tongue slowly caressing her lower lip once more before finally entering and tasting her mouth. His hands caressed the small of her back and he could feel his body heat up as they kissed.

"Oh..." he moaned quietly before continuing to kiss her passionately. Sebastian's mouth tasted like tea and mint, and it was intoxicating to her. His tongue explored her mouth, somewhat clumsily from inexperience. But as his hand found her hip, Y/N felt lightning jolt throughout her body, as if she had just had a hearty gulp of Pepper-Up Potion.

The chilly tension in the air was soon replaced with a hot and more pleasant tension. Sebastian's arms around her made her absolutely melt, and she hadn't felt a rush quite like this before. Sebastian's body was simply radiating with lust and desire. His hands roamed her body, squeezing her rear and sliding down her back to caress her hips. Every kiss was more passionate than the last, and he began to moan more and more between their kisses. He felt light-headed and dizzy, and the way his lover's soft lips caressing his body in the dim, dusty room was so much better than how he had imagined it nearly every night for two years.

"I love you, Y/N."

A low groan escaped her throat at the feeling of him getting more handsy with her. She could feel in her soul that he really wanted her, he needed her. On impulse, she laid her legs over his lap; but soon after, she felt him hungrily grab her by the hips and lift her to straddle him instead. For a brief moment, though, sense overrode the near drunkenness she felt from his touch. Y/N broke away from the kiss for a moment, slightly panting.

"Sebastian...what if Ominis or Anne come in here? What if they interrupt us?"

Sebastian stopped his movements and froze when she asked the question. He hadn't thought of that...

...they hadn't even locked the door.

Before he could say anything, however, a faint knock came from the other side of the door. Y/N cursed herself for speaking this situation into existence.

"Y/N... Sebastian... is everything alright in there?"

It was Anne. Her voice was quiet and uncertain, but it was clear that she was worried things were going south. Sebastian told her that he was going to confess, and she just wanted to make sure everything went well. Y/N's eyes clenched shut and she let out a small groan to herself, although she was screaming bloody murder in her head. She exchanged a desperate glance with Sebastian before she rose from her place on his lap and made her way to the door. Sebastian's face, however, seemed to go white as he adjusted his trousers. The door opened to Anne Sallow, who was a bit taller and looked healthier now that she was rid of her curse. She shot her friend a faint smile which Y/N returned.

"Hey Anne, everything's fine. Seb and I are just having a discussion."

The flushed faces and general disarray, however, seemed to suggest that it was more than a 'discussion'. Anne's eyes widened when she saw the flushed faces and disheveled clothing as she peeked around the room. She could clearly tell what had been happening in the Undercroft, and she felt very awkward about it.

"Riiight... a discussion. How nice," she said awkwardly.

She glanced over at Sebastian, noticing the look he was giving her, something between a plea and a death glare. She cleared her throat and spoke again, very disturbed at this point.

"So, um... shall I give you two some privacy? Do you want a few minutes to resume your...discussion?"

"If you don't mind. I'm sorry, Anne, but we have a lot to discuss, so we might need a while. Please don't tell Ominis?"

Her voice cracked and she got fidgety from the embarrassment, and second-hand embarrassment from Anne. Y/N could only imagine how awkward it was for her to see her brother in such a state with her best friend. They both stood there for a moment, still as statues, as Sebastian crossed his legs in an attempt to cover himself. Anne nodded her head quickly, her face still a bit red.

"Right! I'll... I'll be in the library then."

She turned around and hurried out of the Undercroft, closing the door behind her. Sebastian could feel his face flush even more than it already was. He sat in silence, his thoughts filled with embarrassment and shame. He looked over at his lover, his eyes pleading with her to speak, to say something that would break the awkward mood. The shade of red that spread across her face was so intense, she thought that maybe her hair would also turn bright Weasley red. Y/N took a deep breath and then promptly spoke:

"It's okay. It's fine, let's just..."

After locking the door with a wave of her wand, she sat back down on the squashy sofa next to Sebastian once more, looking him in the eyes. Her hand rested on his cheek and she turned his head to look at her.

"Focus on me, okay? Let's not think about her right now..."

Her other hand grazed his thigh, making him tense up. Sebastian felt his body heat up as she touched him. It seemed as if he forgot his sister even existed, judging by the way his breath hitched and his muscles tensed. He was so sensitive, and all he needed now was release.

"Oh..." he moaned quietly, his eyes wandering downwards to her hips as she sat back on his lap. He looked back up at Y/N's face, absorbing every single feature on it, as if this were the last time he would ever see her again.

"It's so hard to think clearly when I look at you..."

Her voice was sweet and calming, and her eyes were piercing and beautiful. Her words managed to break the tension ever so slightly.

"Please, I... I need you..." he pleaded as a blush spread across his cheeks again. Her eyes gazed into his with a suble intensity coming from the both of them. Y/N could almost feel the heat radiating from his body, and her own body was soaking it in.

"Yes?"

Her voice was almost a whisper, as the sight before her was breathtaking. Sebastian took a deep breath, taking in Y/N's enchanting beauty before he spoke. The thoughts going through his head at that very moment could have made a whore blush.

"I need you, you know...in the sense that..."

He looked down at his lap where Allana was sitting, thinking for a moment. He was confused by his own words...he was never one to beg or submit to others, right? But then again, he couldn't deny how much of an influence her presence had on him and how his mind and thoughts were always clouded by thoughts of her.

"I love you. I always thought it was just lust, but there's so much more..."

This time, Y/N didn't even need to think about her words before she spoke:

"I love you too, Sebastian. And if you feel the same, then show me. Make me feel what you feel for me."

Her hand found his, and placed it on her thigh, her gaze never breaking from his. At this point, Y/N was completely drunk on love and desire for Sebastian. Garreth Weasley was put completely out of her mind now; all she needed or wanted now was Sebastian Sallow.

Her lips collided with his once more, needing to taste him again. The second their lips melted into each other, his hands were on her again, travelling over her body. Y/N placed one hand on the back of his neck, and the other grabbed his tie to pull him closer to her. Sebastian's heart seemed to skip a beat as she placed his hands on her thighs. He felt like he could drown in her gorgeous eyes and he knew that he had to make her feel what she made him feel.

As her soft lips touched his, his mind was filled with a rush of pleasure and his body trembled with joy. His hands ran through her hair, caressing her body with every movement. Y/N's lips tasted sweet and he wanted more...the feeling of her on his body was addicting and he couldn't hold back any longer. Their lips danced together, as if it just came so naturally to the both of them. Once more, Sebastian grabbed hold of her hips and rear, shifting them a bit so he could gain some pleasure from the friction. Underneath her, Y/N could feel the bulge in his pants, and it get her even more excited.

"Sebastian..."

Her voice was almost a squeak, like a bunny rabbit, as his name escaped her lips. Her body was so warm now, and the layers she was wearing made her sweat a bit. Sebastian was less dressed than she was, already without his robe and blazer from running around earlier, but she tugged at his shirt all the same. Sebastian felt a rush of pure pleasure as he witnessed and felt just how eager she was. His tongue continued to dance with her lips, exploring her mouth like it was a new continent. His heart was beating so fast that he could hardly stand it for a moment, but when Y/N began to tug at his shirt and move his hand down to her rear, his breathing quickened and his mind went blank.

He looked at her, his eyes reassuring her that she was doing the right thing. It was so surreal seeing the girl he had fantasized about sitting on his lap, so close and intimate. Y/N ceased her movements and pulled away from their passionate kiss to look at him seriously, but her eyes and her voice were still dripping with a sultry desire.

"Sebastian...are you sure about this? Are you ready? It's okay if you aren't..."

That last statement was laced with a subtle disappointment, however, which betrayed her real thoughts. Sebastian sighed, taking deep and careful breaths as he looked back at his lover.

"Y/N..." he said, his voice quivering a bit. "I'm... I'm sure."

He looked away for a moment, thinking about his next words carefully.

"... I'm more than ready."

He could feel his face flush with embarrassment as he said this. The confirmation from Sebastian was all Y/N needed to go all in. In mere seconds, her lips were on his once more, and her hips were now harshly grinding against his. He groaned into the kiss from the friction against the ever growing tent in his trousers. Sebastian was practically melting beneath her, and she was loving every second of it.

Y/N lazily shrugged her robes off of her shoulders, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Soon after that, her hands fumbled to undo Sebastian's tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. Something so simple as Y/N's robes falling to the floor almost sent him over the edge. Her hips grinding against him, her lips pressed against his. The scent of her, her skin, the feeling of her warm thighs against his trousers. It was more than he could bear.

As Y/N's hands fumbled with his tie, he began helping her. He unbuttoned his shirt quickly and pulled it off in the same motion. When the shirt fell to the floor beside her robes, Y/N could see Sebastian's muscular frame in the light of the candles, his hair still mussed up from their intense making out session. The sight before her made her almost drool, but Y/N didn't allow herself to stop now. Quickly, she pulled back to remove her tie and vest and skirt; but as she worked to unbutton her blouse, Sebastian's hand grabbed her wrist and deigned to work on the buttons himself.

Both of their faces grew hotter and redder, as if it was just now dawning on them what they were doing. Sebastian began to work on the buttons of Y/N's blouse slowly. Although it was taking some time without him using magic, fumbling a bit from nerves, it was still an intimate activity to do together. As the blouse slid off of Y/N's shoulders, Sebastian's eyes trailed down her body, the sound of his breaths quickly filling the room as his own excitement rose.

"Darling..."

Sebastian whispered, almost in awe of the beauty in front of him. He felt her skin, it was so smooth and soft, so warm. His body was almost shaking in anticipation of what was to come next. While his lover was smaller in frame, Sebastian was more toned. Not exactly muscular, but still a bit broad, and his chest was covered in the same freckles that decorated his face, and especially concentrated around his shoulders. As her eyes trailed down though, she noticed the outline of his pelvis and the ever so small line of hair that led down to his crotch. It was all Y/N could do not to rip his trousers off of him, but she thought it was better to savor the moment.

Slowly, she reached behind her back to unlace her corset and let it fall to the floor with her robes, leaving her only in her thin cotton chemise. And then her fingers traveled to his trousers, removing his belt and undoing the buttons on them. Y/N's touch set each of Sebastian's senses ablaze. He could feel the smooth fabric of her chemise, the lace on her corset before it fell to the floor. When he felt her fingers undo the buttons on his trousers, his heart seemed to skip a beat. He let out a soft moan as he felt her gently caress him, and when the trousers fell to the floor beside his shirt, it became clear just how excited and eager he was.

He looked at Y/N once more, hoping that she would take the next step... The only thing between them now was her thin chemise and his undershorts. Their breathing was stilted and uneven, since they were both holding back their primal desire to just claw at each other. Wait a minute... Why am I holding back?

Sebastian and Y/N both exchanged an intense look, wordlessly agreeing to not hold anything back. He seemed to understand, as his lips crashed into hers yet again, but then they moved down her jaw to her neck, leaving small bites along the way. His hands grabbed at her body, trailing up under her chemise to grab at the soft bare flesh of her ass.

Y/N's hands, however, palmed at the bulge in Sebastian's shorts, earning a low groan from him at his own sensitivity. Sebastian's heart practically skipped a beat as he swallowed Y/N's moans through their locked lips. Her voice was like honey in his ears as he kissed her fiercely. The feeling of her hands and lips on his body drove him wild, especially so when her hands reached for him under his shorts.

His own hands went back to her body, exploring her curves underneath her chemise. This was something that they had both wanted for so long and he couldn't believe that he was finally giving it to her and herself.

"Y/N..." Sebastian moaned, biting the side of her neck.

"Sebastian... Do you want to take charge?"

She punctuated her question with a small bite to his earlobe, and Sebastian took no time in flipping them over to where he was on top of her. His hands unbuttoned the top of her chemise with a clumsy fervor, and he quickly pulled it off of her body.

Y/N was now left completely bare underneath him, save for her stockings. Sebastian pulled back from her neck to absorb the sight before him with his eyes. It was everything he had fantasized about and more. Y/N stared back at him before muttering out nervously:

"Is everything okay? You're staring, do you not like it...?"

Sebastian looked at the object of all his desires, her breathtaking body and her precious face. He couldn't believe that she was his, that she was finally in his arms. He smiled, looking down at her, admiring her beauty.

"Y/N...." Sebastian murmured. "What would possibly make you think that I don't like it? You are everything I have ever wanted. I'm just...amazed by you, that's all."

He looked at her body, his eyes traveling along her curves, taking in every inch of her. He leaned down and gave her another kiss, his hands still exploring the shape of her body. This kiss was warmer and a bit less hungry than the others, and his hands were less rough. He was comforting with his touches, making sure she felt completely comfortable and loved. He was tender and needy at once, and Y/N loved him for it. It reassured her that this isn't the only thing he wants from her.

His hands settled on her chest, kneading and massaging at the mounds of flesh. It was here Y/N could tell how inexperienced Sebastian was, but at least he was trying. He was experimenting with different things to see what she enjoyed. When his thumbs grazed her sensitive buds though, he knew he had figured out something she liked, and that filled him with a bit of pride and confidence. Sebastian was so focused on Y/N's reactions, her sounds of pleasure and her body that it almost took him out of the moment. Seeing her react to his touch filled him with pride and joy.

"Is that good, darling?" he asked gently, slowing his movements. "Should I continue? Do you want me to?"

Sebastian was almost breathing heavy, his heart beating so fast that it felt as though it was about to burst. All he wanted was to hear his lover's soft voice telling him to continue.

"Please..."

Was all Y/N could croak out as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She made every effort to try and steady her breathing as Sebastian tried pleasuring her. During his excursions to the adult section in the Hogsmeade library, Sebastian had read a few of the more saucy romance novels, and attempted to do the things he read about. Because otherwise, he was completely clueless. He knew well enough how to pleasure himself, but to pleasure a woman: that was something foreign. From what he read, he decided to be bold and lean down to run his tongue over her chest, flicking his tongue at the sensitive bud. This got a gasp from Y/N as her eyes fluttered shut, and he took that as a sign to keep going.

"Never stop, Sebastian."

She mewled out at him. With every movement of his tongue, she could feel the growing heat and wetness in her core. Sebastian took extra care to make sure both breasts got an equal amount of love. After a while, he pulled away to look down at her chest. Her buds were now stiff and red from his affection. He took this as a sign to continue with something else. His hand now trailed down her stomach and nestled down at the short bit of hair between her thighs. Sebastian could almost feel the heat radiating from her core, and according to what he read, this was a good thing. Y/N's breathing was ragged and fast as Sebastian explored her nakedness with his hands. She was almost panting as he traced his fingers over her skin, moving slowly down toward her slick slit.

In that moment, Sebastian began to realize how perfect and beautiful Y/N's body was. He could feel her soft and plump legs against his waist as he kissed and licked her thighs. He made sure to touch her in many different areas to see her reactions and find her sweet spots. From what he was doing, Y/N found out that she was particularly sensitive to him biting her inner thighs, which made her let out soft moans. Sebastian had slid down to where his head hovered between her thighs.

His eyes were dripping with lust, but behind that, he was just as clueless as she was about any of this. Sebastian remembered a certain part of his saucy novels that he found quite strange, but he wanted to try. Y/N felt his lips graze against her core, planting a chaste kiss on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Sebastian, what are you doing? Isn't it supposed to be you...in me?"

Y/N asked awkwardly. Sebastian chuckled and pulled back to look at her; her innocence and her confusion was so adorable to him. He gently pushed her knees apart as he nestled his head once more between her thighs. His eyes trailed over every inch of her skin as his fingers trailed over her wetness.

Without looking at her, Sebastian replied simply, "I want to taste you, darling. I want you to enjoy this...as much as I am."

Y/N knew somewhat about how sex was supposed to go, but she had never heard about using your mouth on someone. But all the same, it made her shudder and purr when he experimentally licked a long stripe between her folds.

"Merlin's beard, that feels nice... Where did you learn all this?"

Sebastian gave a warm smile, a smile that said 'just trust me'. He was careful to not be too rough, to not go too fast. Y/N was delicate and innocent, he couldn't be too aggressive. Instead, Sebastian focused on pleasing her, on her pleasure, on her reactions.

Sebastian kept it up, licking and exploring. Y/N's words did nothing but add to his lust and desire. This was her body, he could do what he wanted with it, and that made him feel amazing. And it looked as though his lover's pleasure was increasing as well. As Sebastian licked and sucked and even bit sometimes at her sensitive region, the more she felt that familiar knot tighten in her abdomen. Y/N had pleasured herself sometimes during late nights in the Room of Requirement where she had complete privacy, but it was nothing like what Sebastian was doing to her. Her breathing quickened and her hips instinctively ground against his tongue, needing more of his touch. He took the hint and she felt his finger find her entrance, pushing in.

"S-Sebastian, I..."

Sebastian was almost shaking with excitement. This was real...this was the moment that he had been waiting for. And it was so perfect... Y/N's body, her moans, her lustful breath and her expressions... He was loving every moment of this. He pulled back for a moment, looking at her.

"Y/N, would you like me to continue?" Sebastian asked, his voice almost a whisper.

He felt a rush of adrenaline as he looked at Y/N, as if his body was preparing to release everything that it has in it. Her words were stuck in her throat, so she only looked up at him and nodded fervently. On instinct, Y/N brought her knees up to her chest to give Sebastian easier access as he unlaced his shorts. Soon, his length sprung free and stood proud before her, making her eyes widen.

"Merlin, I don't think that's going to go in.."

Sebastian chuckled, and his expression become a warm and tender as he leaned down and gave his love another kiss. The feeling of her soft lips, combined with her sweet and innocent demeanor, was melting his heart.

"Shhh... trust me, Y/N." He whispered.

Sebastian's hand came to rest upon her cheek, and he leaned down onto her once more as he slowly entered her. Even though he took it really slow, Y/N's face still twisted up in pain. She had never put anything in there before, so Sebastian's thickness was especially painful for her. Once he was fully sheathed, he kept still, letting her adjust.

"T-That hurts..."

A tear formed in her eye and her body scrunched up a little. Sebastian could see the tears in her eyes and that made him feel terrible.

"Darling, I'm sorry." He whispered.

He kept still to give her time to adjust, but he was anxious to continue. He just wanted to please her. He gave her a loving kiss on her cheek, letting her know that he still cared.

"Just keep breathing." Sebastian murmured. "Just relax."

Y/N nodded and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. Slowly, she felt her insides relaxing and opening up more, and the pain grew lesser.

"You can move..."

Her voice was nearly a whisper as she opened her eyes to look at him once more. Sebastian started to move back and forth, slowly and gently. He was careful not to hurt Y/N, making sure to go at her pace and never force her.

"How does that feel, darling?" he whispered.

With every time he pushed in, she felt tingles ripple through her body. It was nice, even though the size of him still hurt a little.

"That feels lovely, Sebastian... Have you done this before?"

That last question sounded anxious, desperate for him to say no. Sebastian hesitated for a second before he spoke.

"No, actually, I've never done this before." He said softly. "Honestly, my heart is racing right now. In a good way, my love."

He slowed his movements to a stop, not able to speak for a moment. He was so focused on Y/N and the way her body felt, and all his anxiousness was washed away by his desire to make her feel good. Noticing that he stopped, Y/N moved her hips against his and opened her legs up more to reassure him that he was doing well, and that she wanted this.

"I've never done this either, but I've thought about us doing it a lot."

She paused, and looked deep in thought for a moment.

"Could you do something for me? It's just something I've pictured..."

Sebastian's heartbeat quickened at her words. "Yes, of course, my love. What do you want me to do?"

Sebastian was curious as to what Y/N wanted. Her thoughts, her feelings -- these were things he had wondered about. And to finally, be able to do exactly what she asked of him... his heart raced in excitement.

"Uhm...could you..."

Y/N looked incredibly nervous and a little ashamed as the words wouldn't exit her throat. Instead, she picked his tie up off of the floor and tied it tightly around her neck, handing him the long end nervously. Sebastian was taken aback. He understood where this was going, but he was still somewhat speechless.

"Are you sure...?" he asked softly, his voice gentle and calm as he took the end of the tie from her hands. "I... I could never do anything you don't want me to do, Y/N."

His breath was ragged as he looked down at her, noticing that her eyes were closed, almost as if in anticipation for his answer.

"I'm sure, just...pull it. Whenever you like."

She bit her lip and looked off to the side, feeling a bit dirty for requesting such a thing, especially for their first time. But on the other hand, she was incredibly eager for him to act out her fantasies with her. Sebastian looked back at his lover, a nervous smile on his face...and then, slowly, he began to pull as his hips snapped against hers once more. He took in her expression and her body's reaction. She seemed to get more excited the tighter he pulled it. His heart pumped faster in his chest, his breathing faster, and he closed his eyes to experience the moment.

He could feel that Y/N was very close to her release and he continued to pull, his mind in a daze. It was as if he was in his own little world, completely oblivious to anything and anyone else but her. As Sebastian started moving in and out of her once again, her gaze met his once more. Her eyelids were heavy and her breath was hot, just as she always had been while in her bed when she pleasured herself as she thought about him. Soon, he sped up with his movements, his length massaging her walls. The hand that wasn't holding the tie rested on her breast, kneading it and thumbing at her sensitive bud. Y/N's moans grew steadily louder and her legs wrapped around his waist once again, pulling him closer to her.

"Sebastian, I... I love you..."

A harsher wave of pleasure washed over Sebastian. He was overwhelmed with emotion, with love, with affection, as his body moved in tune to Y/N's. Her words washed over him like a warm embrace, wrapping him in a blanket of passion as she pulled him closer. Their lips met in a soft and tender kiss as Sebastian moved even faster, his breath hot and his mind lost in the thrill and enjoyment of the moment. He had never felt this way before... His heart was beating out of his chest and his body was shaking with emotion. He felt like he could cry and laugh at the same time. After their admission of love to each other, Sebastian's pace rapidly increased and he got rougher with her, the both of them overcome with need. The sound of skin slapping on skin reverberated throughout the Undercroft, and only added to their arousal.

Sebastian leaned down to Y/N's neck and left a harsh bite, chewing and sucking at her soft skin to leave a bruise. The hand that was on her breast traveled down to her abdomen, feeling her stomach bulge up slightly every time he pushed in. Sebastian's kisses got more passionate as he got rougher with Y/N. His hands went exploring as he looked for somewhere to leave his mark on her. He sucked aggressively at her neck, biting into her flesh and marking her with his lips so that everyone could know who she belongs to.

His free hand trailed lower and lower until he managed to find the spot that he was looking for. The feeling of his teeth grinding into her skin and his cock quickly pushing in and out of her sent Y/N into absolute overdrive. It didn't take long at all for her to melt into a panting, moaning mess underneath Sebastian. Her hands grabbed at his shoulders and back, leaving long claw marks that would definitely last a few days. That oh-so familiar knot started tightening in her stomach, and she knew she was close to her release.

"Mm, Sebastian, I... I-I'm gonna..."

Sebastian's heart was pounding out of his chest at this point. His breathing was ragged and his eyes were almost glazed over. He could picture those claw marks that would be left on his body and his mind was filled with a fiery excitement.

"Yes, my love, let it out." He whispered, his voice low with lust. "Give into it, darling."

The pure obsession and desire that laced Sebastian's voice was all she needed to reach her breaking point. Y/N's body seized up, her back arched, and she let out a long, loud squeal as her walls clamped around his length. Sebastian felt Y/N's insides gripping him tightly and his body started shaking violently. He felt every last bit of his release and it was more than he could've ever imagined it being.

"Y/N..." He groaned, his eyes rolling back from pleasure. He was out of breath, his heart pumping like crazy.

"That...oh my gods..." he muttered. He could feel her claws digging into his flesh even harder.

"That was so good." He sighed.

Y/N purred at the feeling of his fluids painting her insides, and as soon as he stopped, she relaxed and looked up at him with so much love and need that it made his heart melt. Sebastian soon laid on top of her out of exhaustion, his head resting on her chest. Sebastian kept his body tight against Y/N's, feeling safe and content. His chest rose and fell quickly - he could feel his heart still pounding in his ears.

Slowly, he turned his head to look at her face. He wanted to remember every detail about this moment: every feature on her face, every single expression that she made. He smiled softly as his eyes drifted lower and he traced one of the scratches she had left on his arm with his fingers.

"That...was amazing." He whispered.

"You are amazing, Sebastian."

Y/N smiled warmly at him and played with his messy hair, some of which now stuck to his face from how sweaty they were. And when he smiled back at her...she nearly fell in love with him all over again. The way his freckles looked, the way his eyes smiled as well...it was absolutely precious.

"And you are absolutely beautiful, Y/N."

Sebastian's breath was coming in warm puffs as he looked into her eyes. He felt a surge of emotion and was tempted to give her another kiss.

"I'm so in love with you, Y/N." He whispered, softly tracing her cheek with his fingertips.

"And to think... I almost didn't meet you tonight." She was so special to him; without her, he might not have known what love truly is.

"I'm glad that we're together..."

"I want us to be together. Officially. I want everyone to know."

Sebastian said, a grin spreading across his face and a fire roaring in his eyes. His head rested on her chest once more as they both just basked the afterglow. That was, until they came back to the reality that the Undercroft got particularly cold in the wintertime. The pair sat up and stretched a bit before Y/N spoke:

"Maybe we should get dressed and go let Anne know we aren't dead."

"Oh, I forgot we were in here." Sebastian replied, nodding as he noticed that it was cold.

"Alright then." He stood up and reached down to help her up. "Let me give you a kiss first, before we go back to looking respectable, darling."

He bent down, meeting her lips with his own as his hands gripped her hips. Once he had finished, all that was left was a red mark on Y/N's neck -- it would have certainly given away their activities. Y/N giggled, knowing that she had equally marked him by clawing his back. The two quickly pulled their clothes back on and made themselves presentable once again.

"Oh Merlin, I've never felt like this before."

She couldn't resist pulling Sebastian into a tight hug before the two exited the Undercroft. Sebastian sighed, still reeling from the experience, trying to make sense of the feelings he had.

"Nor have I." Sebastian replied, looking down at Y/N with loving eyes. "I wish I knew how I could make you feel this way all the time."

When the two reentered the Dark Arts tower, their faces were flushed and their hair was still disheveled. They knew it was late, due to the now golden light pouring through the large windows, but neither of them really cared at that moment. They had each other's love, and that was all that mattered. And to Sebastian, it was definitely worth running a marathon around the halls of Hogwarts for.

=====♡=====

maybe a part 2 if yall want, idk?

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okay so with the garreth one i REALLY REALLY wanted to set it in game of thrones and i accidentally wrote way too much cause i wanted to flex my asoiaf knowledge, man i was googling shit and everything. i know that bot is NOT gonna write that much to match so i figured id post my blurb, fair warning its mostly worldbuilding and barely any present context since i overdescribe way too much :) obviously its a little non canon cause i made the dragons into dragon shifters, but dany still has her three dragons wherever she is. not sure when this is taking place tho but lets guesstimate it around the end of season 1 so daenerys just got her dragons. anyway here it is, obviously i used my own appearance but im censoring out my name but im not gonna use y/n either since the appearance is so specific. anyway enough blurbbing

credit to @greedyforgarreth for the dragon shifter thing

slight nsfw if you squint??? its a singular exposed titty but its the culture and not contextually sexual

lmk if yall want more game of thrones x hogwarts legacy content

Game of Thrones AU! Dragon Shifter!Garreth x Author

The mates had set up their lives on the southern coast of Essos, opting to take shelter in the great city of Qarth, situated in the middle of the Red Waste. It was a city of excess, sophistication, and decadence that they both came to enjoy indulging in. Being among the very last of the dragons, Garreth and AUTHOR (by proxy) were treated to the very highest of luxuries and comforts by courtesy of Xaro Xhoan Daxos. Xaro was one of the Thirteen, the ruling body of the city, and he was the wealthiest of all of them. He never asked for anything in return, glad to simply be in the presence of and serve one of four dragons in all of existence.

Garreth was a lot more impressive to the Qartheen, being fully matured as opposed to Daenerys Targaryen's three newborn dragons. Garreth could never say he hated anyone or anything; he was a sweetheart through and through. The exception to that, though, were those belonging to house Targaryen. For centuries, they used the power of their Old Valyrian blood to enslave the dragon shifters, using them to fight their petty wars and pointless battles. Everyone sang the praises of Aegon the Conquerer, but the three greatest dragons to ever live: Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes were all relegated to mere servants of the silver-haired slavers that Westeros called kings and queens for hundreds of years.

Garreth was sat upon a chaise lounge, with brilliant blue upholstery and handsomely adorned with plump pillows and silk drapes of a hundred hues. When in his human form, he always wore a more traditionally Dothraki ensemble. Horse leather trousers, boots, a roughspun wool wrap around his waist, and a belt of heavy gold medallions on top of that. Garreth preferred this over the richer fashions of Pentos or Lys, as he liked to feel the sun on his skin, and clothes made him feel rather restrained. And besides, any clothing on his torso would impede the use of his wings.

The Dothraki horselords typically adopted body paint, but AUTHOR had convinced Garreth to forego it in favor of letting the brilliant red and gold flecks upon his shoulders show their true beauty. She had always admired how they glittered in the sun like so many jewels, reflecting the light to make it seem as if he was on fire himself. He had actually led a khalasar of his own for a short time, but since he did not speak, some of his more powerful warriors thought him weak. And when the Dothraki thought their khal weak, they opted to take his place. Suffice it to say, he took his lover in his claws and flew someplace else, far from Vaes Dothrak.

AUTHOR was draped over Garreth's lap, opting to dress in the traditional garb of the Qartheen people. She wore a tokar of emerald green silk, embroidered with serpents and dragons with silver thread. The feather-light silk hugged her slender, pale form, and the way it was wrapped around the body exposed one breast, as was custom in Qarth. Around her waist was a handsome silver belt, adorned with silver chains and inlaid with emeralds the size of a baby's fist. Around her throat was a silver choker to match her belt. Though the real beauty came from her eyes. When AUTHOR's mate had taken her in the woods back in Westeros and given her his fire, she noticed that it had begun to change her over the months. What was previously a chocolatey brown was now stark white, and her pupils were slitted like Garreth's. His scales manifested around his shoulders and somewhat down his back, but AUTHOR was beginning to see miniscule emerald flakes under her eyes and on her lower back.

Garreth stared out of the window at the noblefolk going about their business below on the streets. Their bedchamber was filled with every creature comfort they could ever desire, and Xaro saw to it that it was well decorated. Wild flowering ivy crept in through the open window onto the sandstone walls, which were laden with tapestries and strings of colored glass bulbs in every size and hue you could imagine. In one corner of the room was a brazier, burning a concoction of dried leaves and flowers, filling the room with a calming and almost choking aroma.

AUTHOR, however, requested something more on the creature side of creature comforts. Qarth was a strange city in a strange land. Back home in Westeros, her father always told her tales of creatures from across the Narrow Sea. Chickens that breathed fire and turned people to stone, great big lions with the heads, wings, and front legs of eagles, turtle spirits that led children to water and drowned them. But her favorite tale was that of the basilisk. A great serpent that can kill simply upon looking into its eyes. So Xaro had one hatched, and AUTHOR kept it safe within a terrarium, though she had opted to let it roam free this afternoon. What Xaro Xhoan Daxos found unusual, however, was her ability to communicate with it. She was no stranger to foreign languages, having learned the Common Tongue and some High Valyrian growing up, while learning Dothraki after Garreth brought her to Essos. But this was always something she just...seemed to know.

Garreth stroked AUTHOR's short hair, which was styled more akin to the Tyroshi fashion, colored a deep emerald to match her gown. Her eyes were fluttered closed, basking in the warm breeze and relaxing under Garreth's tender touch, with her small serpent wrapped around her arm. Thankfully, the basilisk's stare did not affect greater beasts like dragons.

It was not quite so hot as it had been a few months ago when they had arrived at Qarth. The heat only seemed to be dying down these days, ever so slowly as the days passed. The people of Westeros said this was the longest summer in hundreds of years, but as the Stark words say, winter is coming.

Garreth peered down at the cobbled street, seeing a group of three Red Priests urging the Qartheen citizens to turn their faith to R'hllor, their god of light and fire, so that they may be spared from the Long Night to come. It was said that the longer the summers, the harsher the following winter will be. And this summer had lasted nine years thus far, so who can say what the winter will bring? Will they manage to survive? Of course they will; they can survive anything, so long as they are together.

The pair of them need not worry about winter now, nor about the Targaryens, nor about the lords of Westeros fighting for their silly chair across the ocean. Lannisters, Starks, Baratheons, what did it matter to them? Garreth and AUTHOR had each other, and that was good enough for them. Damn the Iron Throne, and damn the Targaryens. They would be slaves or servants to no one. Not forced to burn down the keeps of enemy lords, and not forced to marry a lord and become a broodmare either. Before she ran away with Garreth, AUTHOR was engaged to marry Sandor Clegane, a knight serving under King Joffrey. He was never cruel to her from their encounters, but he was not kind with his words, nor kind to look upon either, as one half of his face was covered with scars from being burned. But now? She had someone who she loved, and who loved her in return. And even besides, the Hound could never have treated her to power nor pleasure as Garreth did.

"The world is ours, moon of my life. No one can hold us back now."

Garreth murmured aloud, in the Common Tongue that AUTHOR had taught him over the months. He preferred to call her by the Dothraki term of endearment, from a mighty khal to his khaleesi. His gaze travelled down to meet hers, his mate's head upon a pillow propped against the arm of the chaise. Their pupils mutually dilated as they always did when they looked at each other. AUTHOR reached a hand up to run her fingers through his fiery red curls, and her palm rested upon his cheek.

"It always will be ours, my sun and stars. And who would dare stand against us? We are the last true dragons."

Dragon-Shifter!Bots

Yeah, so — this happened. *slinks away*

Lovely photos by the lovelier: @cuffmeinblack and bots based on @greedyforgarreth fic: here

(No one works faster than me, making insane bots for you all to enjoy...LMAO — okay, bye, enjoy)

---

"How can you like this character? He have 5 minutes of screentime."

I do not control how my pussy behaves, sorry.

Forgotten once again.

✩Tom Riddle x Reader

Summary: The one where Tom isn’t capable of love, but you thought you could change that. Alternatively: Possesiveness and Love become the same thing.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this one because Tom’s character is sm fun to write. It’s interesting because despite my delusions I couldn’t ever imagine him being capable of loving someone, and if he did it would be like this. Also this is probably the last time i’ll post for the next three weeks!

Warnings: Toxic Relationships, mentions of manipulation, violence (towards others). Generally about a very toxic and unhealthy relationship so please do not read if you’re triggered by anything to do with this! My inbox is always open if you ever need someone to talk to 🫶🏼.

Songs: Leaving Tonight - The Neighbourhood

Spectre - Radiohead

Tom Riddle was many things.

For one, he was ambitious. He would achieve whatever he so desired. If he had the means to do it, it would be done immediately. If he did not, well...

He would find the means to do so. Because Tom Riddle achieved whatever he so desired.

He was also charismatic.

Tom had a natural charisma that drew people to him. Whether through his charm, intelligence, or a combination of both, he had a magnetic presence that captivated those around him. This charisma played a significant role in his ability to influence and manipulate others to further his ambitions.

Tom Riddle was brilliant. Gifted with a sharp mind and a keen understanding of magic, he excelled in his studies. His intelligence, coupled with his ambition, allowed him to delve into dark magic and ancient mysteries, seeking knowledge and power that others might shy away from.

Tom Riddle was many things, but there was only one thing he lacked.

Perhaps it was karma, some form of divine intervention, his hamartia, that it was this very thing that would be his downfall in the years to come.

Tom was many things, but loving was not one of them.

Tom Riddle was not loving. No - he was not capable of love.

Tom Riddle, was incapable of experiencing genuine love due to being conceived under the influence of a love potion, not true love. The circumstances of Tom’s conception were marked by coercion and manipulation, as his mother, Merope Gaunt, used a love potion to attract and bind Tom Riddle Sr. to her. It was artificial and devoid of true affection. This was a concrete and inexplicably tragic detail that meant Tom Riddle simply was not physically capable of reciprocating love.

Key word, reciprocating. For, it was very much possible for someone to fall in love with Tom. A cruel thing it would be, for one cannot simply love Lucifer himself and expect to be loved in return. Tom Riddle's incapacity for reciprocating love stemmed from a profound emotional void rather than an inability to elicit affection from others.

This fact was a cruel truth that you only chose to accept once it was too late. One does not simply get involved with Tom Riddle, and come out unscathed.

Tom never cared for love, really. To him, it was just some sort of transaction or tool, something to be manipulated for his own benefit. Love, in Tom Riddle's eyes, was a means to an end rather than an intrinsic value. It was a sentiment that he observed in others but never truly felt himself.

Love, however, seemed to be the most raw, human thing in existence. It was everything we hated, yet also everything we loved. It unravelled our deepest insecurities, it brought things to the surface that we had long pushed to the side. It required us to lay ourselves, bare, for the other to see. Love made us tolerate the very worst of things, love made us hate the very best of things.

Many things can be complementary in life. Love was not one of them. It was overpowering, consuming. It changed who you were.

Love was the beginning of life and the end of it. Love was part of being human.

Tom lacking this fundamentally crucial aspect of the human experience may have been the very thing that led him to despise his humanity.

When Tom had met you, it was slightly different. A puzzle piece that didn't quite fit but intrigued him nonetheless.

You were undeniably talented, a mind that had its worth. You had this air of arrogance, and whilst Tom hated unbacked arrogance, you had the means to justify it. You were self-assured, and he found it to be somewhat refreshing compared to the other people he knew (who unashamedly sucked up to him.) You didn’t fall for his tricks immediately, which made him all the more agitated, and intrigued. Rather, you seemed to enjoy being with Tom most when he’d drop the ‘perfect and polite’ facade he had. You valued honesty and bluntness, two things Tom did not do (After all, how would he gain the trust of others if he truthfully told them he planned on using every single one of them?)

However, the more time he spent with you, the more he found that he fed into what you liked. And somehow, to his dismay, he found some sort of sick satisfaction in it. He enjoyed seeing you actively seek out his presence, and as much as it went against what Tom believed, he liked the validation of having people want to be associated with him. It was a testament to how he longed to be known, to be admired. He observed, learned, and dissected your intricacies, seeing you not as an individual but as a canvas upon which he could project his desires.

He soon grew very used to you, and he didn't absolutely loathe you. As the days unfolded into months, and the months unfolded into years, a semblance of tolerance took root. He played the part, masking his true intentions beneath a veneer of charm. Tolerance morphed into a twisted form of acknowledgement — an acknowledgement that you held a role in his future ambitions, his ultimate goal.

After all, that's all he ever did anything for, right? His goals, His desires. His needs.

The evolution was subtle but insidious. What began as a detached fascination transformed into a possessive need. Tom, driven by an insatiable hunger for control, found satisfaction in manipulating the threads of your existence. Obsession seeped into every crevice of his thoughts. Your every action became a challenge to him, something for him to understand, something he wanted to have control over. His infatuation stemmed from a desire to have control, to claim your very being, to possess you like some sort of artefact in his prized possessions.

Whilst you may have been immune to Tom’s charm when you first met, you certainly weren't without your weakness. After all, Tom always got what he wanted, and if he didn't have the means to do so, he'd find it.

He became fluent in his ways of understanding you, observing every little thing you did. He dissected the very core of your being till he was sure there was nothing he wouldn't know. Casual conversations about schoolwork in the depths of the library turned to confessions about your life as the hours passed. Tom preyed on your vulnerability, sowing seeds of doubt into your mind.

He agreed with you when you expressed your frustrations at your friends, he encouraged your rash actions. He told you what you wanted to hear, and made it seem as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

As everything he did, each word he spoke was carefully calculated, a thread sewn in the fabric of your fucked up relationship, binding him inexplicably closer to you without even realising.

He pointed out things, seemingly from a place of concern, making you distance yourself from your friends. He highlighted instances where your friends might have let you down, carefully framing himself as the only steadfast pillar in your life. Tom was everything you could have needed; he understood you, and he made you feel seen.

He was selective about what he let you know. He let you know he had grown up in a children’s home, and that his mother had died. Trust was a two-way thing, and you were smart enough to detect when it wasn’t being reciprocated. He let you see what he wanted to see, for no human was perfect, and he needed you to see he had his imperfections if he wanted you to trust him.

He needed to make it seem as though you made him feel seen too.

Tom had been sitting in your room, working with you on a transfiguration assignment you both had been set. Cross-legged on your bed, he still remembers how you had sat down next to him, visibly frustrated.

Tom, ever attuned to you, asked whether you were ok because that's what someone who cared for you did. He didn't care greatly though, not in a selfless way. Rather, he needed you to know that he was the only person who knew you, the only person you needed.

You opened up about what had happened, explaining how your friends had betrayed your trust, and how they seemed to misunderstand you, leaving you feeling isolated and vulnerable. Tom, feigning empathy with expert precision, listened intently, absorbing every detail like a sponge. You began crying because it all became too much.

You never thought Tom would comfort you. You believed he'd perhaps pat your back, or assure you it was all fine. What you didn't expect, was for Tom to draw you in, to wrap his arms around you, and pull you into his chest. You didn't expect him to soothe you, and rub your back as he uttered words of comfort into your ear, seemingly shielding you from the emotions that had been weighing you down.

You didn't expect to feel safe, to feel protected. If only you knew the only thing you needed protection from, was Tom himself.

You felt special. You knew it was not in Tom's nature to do so. You had no idea how vile of a person he truly was, but you understood he was avoidant of sentiment or affection. For him to have been so tender, made you feel loved.

It was only ever bound to go downhill from there.

It was only natural that you had fallen in love with him. From there it all somewhat became a blur. In between the lines, the illusion of love was beginning to waver. Graduating from Hogwarts, you no longer held those ambitions you once had. Your plans seemed now to be a distant memory, a past life. You had Tom, and that was all that mattered.

Tom had gotten his job at Borgin and Burkes. You moved in with him. You ignored the pleas of concern from those who were near and dear to you, who Tom hadn’t managed to isolate you from.

Tom convinced you that they did not have your best interest in mind, that they didn’t like him because he was a poor orphan, working a salesperson job. He had earlier convinced you he had his insecurities about his past, and he used that to make you believe the people around you were prejudiced, that they didn't care for your happiness but rather their status being affected by who they associated with. No one would want to be acquainted with the girl who loved the charity case.

You believed him. You couldn't fathom why they didn’t like Tom. You shut them out.

It was rather terrifying seeing how quickly Tom could snuff out your fiery flame, and reduce you down to someone who became dependent on him. You rarely left the house, your life revolved around what Tom wanted, and how Tom felt.

He left you teetering on the precipe of unhappiness, fulfilling your needs to the point where you couldn’t complain for fear of seeming ungrateful, unloving.

He would neglect you, coming back from work to lock himself in your bedroom, pouring over books and writings. He wasn’t who he used to be, caring, affectionate, loving.

Shame on you for assuming you could make Tom capable of love.

His neglect pierced your soul, and when you mustered the courage to voice your needs, he snapped at you for bothering him. Tom's transformation into an emotionally distant stranger left you in a state of perpetual uncertainty.

At times, you resolved to leave him, but Tom had a knack for sensing your unrest. As though he could read your mind, he returned with offerings and apologies, painting himself as the troubled victim and casting you as the ungrateful perpetrator. Guilt became the shackle that bound you, and his apologies only deepened the wounds.

Tom, in those fleeting moments of remorse, would momentarily embody the man you had fallen in love with. You cooked dinner together. He’ d play with your hair as you read, and he fucked you as if he truly did love you. Yet, the morning after, the bed would be empty, and the reality of your entangled existence with Tom would once again sink in.

He began leaving for work earlier and coming back later. You began to doubt whether it was because of work, the day he came back reeking of dark magic.

You were undeniably clever, after all, that was what had sparked Tom’s obsession with you in the first place, and so it didn’t take long for you to connect the dots. Tom’s friends back in Hogwarts seemed more like devotees than anything else. This, coupled with him spending countless hours reading through books he wouldn't let you see, and his sudden late hours suggested to you he was dappling in dark things.

You weren't wrong, per se, but Tom was far beyond dappling in dark things. He had become the image of corruption itself.

The cycle persisted, a disheartening repetition of highs and lows that left you questioning your worth and the authenticity of the connection you had with Tom. His intermittent displays of affection, punctuated by periods of neglect and manipulation, became the norm. The more you yearned for stability, the deeper you sank into the quicksand of your toxic relationship.

You couldn't pinpoint exactly where neglect turned into heated words. Arguments turning more and more intense. Slammed doors became broken porcelain, yet the remorseful embraces remained the same.

The outside world, once filled with friends and dreams, now seemed like a distant echo. Tom had successfully eroded the foundations of your past life, isolating you from the support systems that could have provided a lifeline. His poisonous whispers had convinced you that only he truly cared for you, painting the rest of the world as indifferent or antagonistic.

The empty mornings and hollow apologies continued, and you slowly began to realise the love you once believed in had become a warped caricature, and the person you had fallen for had let his obsession manifest into your relationship, seeping through the feeble foundations.

The crisp air of Hogsmeade offered a welcome escape from the suffocating atmosphere of the shared home with Tom. As you strolled through the quaint village, a familiar face caught your eye – Elizabeth, your closest friend from Hogwarts. A twinge of nostalgia mixed with apprehension as you approached her.

"Hey, Elizabeth," you greeted, attempting a smile.

Her response was guarded, her eyes revealing a mixture of concern and wariness. "Hello. Long time no see."

You sensed a tension in the air as you tried to engage in small talk, but Elizabeth's words soon cut through the facade. "Look, What happened? You dropped off the face of the earth, and it's like you vanished after graduation. In our last year, you completely ignored all of us."

A knot tightened in your stomach as you fumbled for an explanation. "I... things have been complicated. I've been busy."

Elizabeth's expression softened, and she sighed. "Busy? More like completely consumed. We all missed you, you know? But you acted like we don't even exist. What happened to the person we used to know?"

You frown, crossing your arms. “Missed me? I only stopped talking to you because you all acted weird around me.” You respond, defensively.

“No, we didn't. You got angry at us when we told you we were worried for you. You rarely went out with us, you were always too busy elsewhere.” She corrected, and you felt a frustration bubble within you.

“No, it didn’t really seem like that. You all isolated me and the only person I had left was Tom. It was only natural that I wouldn't want to go back to being friends with you after that.” You snap.

Elizabeth's eyes widened, sympathy replacing her earlier frustration. "Tom? Are you serious? He's the one who isolated you, not us. We've been worried sick about you. You're not the same person anymore."

Who did she think she was? She knew nothing about the two of you, let alone what your relationship was like. Tom was right, these people had it out for you. They didn't care for you, not at all.

“You don't know what our relationship is like Elizabeth, so I suggest you stop making assumptions.” You hiss, glaring at her.

"We cared, but you pushed us away," Elizabeth explained gently. "You were so wrapped up in whatever was going on with Tom that you stopped caring about anyone else. It's not healthy, and we were genuinely concerned."

Elizabeth reached out to comfort you. "Listen, I know it's tough, but you need to reevaluate your situation. Staying with Tom isn't healthy, and you're not alone. My door is always open if you need somewhere to stay or someone to talk to.” She says, fumbling around in her pockets. She pulls out a receipt and hastily scribbles down an address, thrusting it into your hand. She gives you one last look of pity, and you feel enraged. You immediately apparate back home, you didn't have time for this foolishness.

You apparate back home, the confrontation with Elizabeth leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. The hastily scribbled address clutched in your hand feels like an unwanted invitation, an intrusion into the carefully constructed reality that Tom has woven around you.

As you step into the shared home, the atmosphere is unsettling. Tom is hunched over a dark tome, his eyes flickering up to meet yours as you enter.

"Where have you been?" he questions, the softness of his tone belying the underlying intensity.

You toss your coat aside, frustration boiling beneath the surface. "Out. I needed a break from all this," you retort, the words laced with the anger that has been building up.

A dangerous glint enters Tom's eyes, his composure slipping. "A break? Is that how you see it? Is it a burden to you?"

"Yes, Tom! I don’t know what’s gone wrong? One day you’re fin and the next you’re acting as though i’m a nuisance to your being," you snap, the resentment in your voice cutting through the room.

His posture stiffens, and a quiet threat laces his words. "Oh really?"

Your anger flares, a defiant fire pushing back against his dominance. "Guess who I saw today, hmm?" You seethe, venom lingering in your tone.

A momentary confusion flickers in Tom's eyes. "Who?" he questions, wondering how this could be relevant to the conversation.

"Elizabeth," you declare, watching his reaction closely.

Tom's expression darkens, and a cold tension settles in the room. "What does she have to do with anything?" He retorts, stepping closer to you.

"She told me a few things, Tom. About how I've distanced myself from everyone, how they were worried, and you know what struck me?" you press on, your anger finding a new target.

His eyes narrow, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "What?"

"That I believed it was my friends who had abandoned me, but in reality, it's been you isolating me all along," you accuse, the realization fueling your rage. You jab your finger into his chest as you speak.

Tom's composure wavers, but he quickly recovers. "I've been protecting you. You can't trust them. They're trying to pull you away from me."

"Stop. Stop it, Tom. Have the decency to acknowledge I'm not that fucking stupid. I know what you're trying to do,” You say, voice cracking. You resist the urge to shield your ears, his words burrowing their way into you as he attempts to trivialise your worries, making you out to be the irrational one.

Tom frowns, and the sight of you beginning to doubt him had bile riding in the back of his throat. H reaches out, hands holding onto your shoulders as he urges you to look at him.

“They’re lying to you. They’re trying to pull you away from me again! Can't you see this? Why do you believe them over me?” He says, voice pleading with you in fake desperation, the lengths he was willing to go to to ensure he could continue to possess you were unthinkable.

“Enough. Im fucking done. You’re so fucked up, Tom. You never loved me, did you? You only ever wanted to own me, to control me. Tell me, was it worth it? Was it ever fucking worth it, spending 5 years of your life weaving this tapestry of bullshit just so you could keep me locked up in here?” You snap, grabbing your coat.

Tom's pleading expression transforms into a cold mask, and a sinister calm settles over him. "You think you can just leave? You're mine, and you'll stay. I won't let you go." He utters.

The realization of his true nature, the toxicity of the relationship, fuels your determination. "Watch me,” You hiss.

As you move toward the door, his grip on control slips further, and an unsettling mix of rage and desperation flashes in his eyes. "You'll regret this. You'll come crawling back. You always come back." He says. You take a single look at him before slamming the door and walking off.

One cannot simply dance with the devil, and change him. He always changes you.

Tom Riddle was far beyond the devil.

You wondered if for once in your life God had been on your side when you had that chance encounter with Elizabeth. Despite your harsh words, she had accepted you into her home with open arms. The weight of the past five years settles heavily on your shoulders, and the enormity of what you've lost becomes painfully clear. You were young, so damn young, and you’d been living as a glorified prisoner, trapped by the very thing that was meant to liberate you.

But love was ugly, wasn't it? It made you tolerate the bad, it made you irrational. Love could bare its teeth into your neck, and you'd let it, for love was ugly.

It was ugly, but it was not macabre.

Tom knew where you were. Tom always did. It was already established that Tom always got what he wanted. He wanted you, and he found a way to ensure that.

At first, he did not bother you.

He believed you would come back to him, as you so often did. But when a week had passed and you had not reappeared as you always did, beautiful face flushed red, eyes glossy with tears as you wordlessly stepped in and fell back into normality, he began to worry.

If it came to any relief to you, which it might have, Tom believed he loved you. What you had was a far cry from love, an echo of what it should have been. But in the mind of he who cannot love, this is what he believed it to be. One could only wonder whether everything would have been different if he actually knew what love was. But he didn't, and he never would, so he was left with some sort of fucked up obsession that he believed was love.

Tom felt a gnawing emptiness that only intensified with your departure.

Again, he loved you, if one could call it love. It was a sick, twisted version of affection that demanded ownership. In his distorted reality, your existence became an extension of his own, a possession he couldn't bear to lose. The mere thought of you breaking free ignited a desperate panic within him.

He needed you like a drowning man gasping for air, clinging to the last vestiges of sanity.

Schopenhauer believed that the will, a blind and irrational force, dominated human behaviour. Love, according to Schopenhauer, was an expression of the will's desire.

Tom felt this indescribable gap in his life without you there, as though he simply wasn’t complete without you. The old him would have hated to admit it, but he needed you, and his need for you grew from a sickly infatuation to a desperate yearning. Love, in his distorted reality, meant ownership, and he was losing his grip.

It was a rather bleak evening, and you had a horrible feeling in your stomach as you sat on the sofa of Elizabeth’s living room, where you had been presiding for the past week.

How cruel it was, that you and Tom were so attuned to one another.

You somehow knew it was Tom without needing to see them.

As Tom had resonated with the words of Schopenhauer, you had resonated with the words of Plato. For you, love could not be controlled. Instead, it was a divine madness that took hold of individuals, transcending rational thought and choice.

You had often thought that was a beautiful thing. However, when it was love that was causing your demise, it no longer felt beautiful.

Elizabeth comes down the stairs and raises a brow when she sees you perched on the edge of the sofa, staring blankly off into the distance. She eyes you apprehensively as she opens the door.

That voice. It simultaneously sent dread coursing through you, and butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“Come back now. It's been far too long.” Tom says, his voice oh so tempting.

“Seriously? You think you can get her back with that bullshit?” Elizabeth snaps, standing at the door.

Tom, however, remains fixated on you, as if Elizabeth's words were mere background noise. Ignoring her comments, he continues, his eyes piercing into your conflicted gaze.

"Stop this. Come back. It's where you belong," he urges, the words carrying a persuasive weight that had once held you captive.

Elizabeth's frustration peaked as she turned to face you, pleading in her eyes. "Don't listen to him. He's toxic, and you don't need that in your life. You deserve so much more."

Tom's eyes bore into yours, his tone silky but insistent. "You don't belong in our business, Elizabeth. You’re as meddlesome as you were in school. She knows where she belongs."

You remain silent.

"He's killing you. Can't you see that?" Elizabeth's voice held a mixture of concern and frustration.

But Tom's voice slithered through the air once more, persuasive and relentless. "Come to me.” His words echoed a twisted sense of possessiveness, yet held such allure, spoken tenderly, enough to convince you it would be fine.

You clench your fists, nails digging into your skin. You stand up, letting out a shuddery breath. You walk towards the door.

“Fuck, stop! You don't need to go! Don't act like you have nowhere to go! I've given you my home, I’ve let you stay. Stop going back!” Elizabeth says, frustration laced in her voice.

How easy it is to claim you simply need to just “stop”, and it would all be fine.

It was never that simple. Tom's presence was poison, yet it was also the air you breathed. You had only known Tom for what felt like aeons, and you had shut everyone who questioned you out. All you had was Tom, all you ever would have is Tom.

He was home, a twisted kind that keeps you warm while slowly suffocating the life out of you.

As you walked back into his outstretched arms, a sense of numb acceptance settled over you. The outside world ceased to matter; the only reality was the one with Tom.

It wasn't love as the poets wrote or the philosophers pondered. Yet, in its ugliness, it was the only reality you knew.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around. Like a serpent, his embrace constricts around you, possessive and suffocating. You lean into him, feeling the coldness of his touch seep into your skin. It's oddly warming though, as paradoxical as it seemed.

"Where else would you go, my love?" he whispers, the sweetness of the endearment masking the toxicity beneath.

The serpent and its prey, bound in a perverse waltz of dependence and decay, disappear into the shadows, and the world outside is forgotten once again.

                         horny

              horny      ^        horny

     horny               |                 horny

horny                   o ———->           horny

      horny                                 horny

            horny                   horny

                          horny

good heavens look at the time

its coming up to a year since ive been weirdly obsessed w phillip graves . its not even about warren kole you can have him i want that WHITE COLLAR SOUTHERN MAN . he looks like he'd gag trying anything spicy and would give me flowers he found on the side of the highway. Hes my man

Serenity

Garreth Weasley x GN!Reader

=====================

hi this is a short little fluffy thing for 🎉weasley wednesday🎉, hope you enjoy :) also i dont know if scotland gets soupy but i need to write and rant about how fucking hot it is where i am so shhhhh

Prompt: It's peak summertime, and you and Garreth are in the Forbidden Forest gathering potion ingredients. But the heat is overwhelming, so you take a break in a creek you come across.

Word count: 584

Walking outside in the heat was like walking straight into a bowl of soup. It was thick and humid, the air seeming to weigh more than the trees themselves, and making anyone walking out in the open feel like sinking into the ground to escape the sun. Garreth and Y/N were certainly feeling the mid-August heat as they trod through the forest collecting toadstools and fluxweed and other tidbits they came across for his asinine potion experiments. They both walked carefully over the roots and mossy stones that littered the ground of the Forest; one could never be too careful when venturing through. The pair also carried mildly heavy sacks with them, the weight of which only made them sweat more.

Merlin, the sweating.

Y/N sat on a large root to rest, and started fanning themself to cool off. The two had already undone a few buttons on their shirts and loosened their ties, but when it was this hot outside, there was nothing much else one could do. Their hair clung to their face and their clothes clung to their bodies, and they had even considered at one point heading back early. Garreth sat down beside his friend and took a long breath before complaining:

"Merlin's beard, I feel as if I'm about to melt. And you don't look any better than I do, Y/N."

"Oh come off it, Weasley, I always look better than you do."

Y/N snorted, but what had said was true. The two were drenched in sweat and drowning in the grating sound of cicadas to add to the ambience of it all. The two sat for a moment before Y/N heard water running and stood up to look around. Not too far off behind them, was a decently sized creek, which looked cool and crisp and oh, so enticing.

"Hey Garreth?"

The ginger pushed his hair back and looked up at his companion, who was pointing over at the creek. They simply exchanged a grin as they set their supply sacks down and jogged over to the creek. It was just deep enough to lay down in without inhaling water, but that was good enough for them. The two laid down on their backs across the hard, but cool stones as they enjoyed the sensation of the fresh water lightly rushing over them. Y/N closed their eyes, taking the time to absorb and take relief in the atmosphere. The tepid water, the gentle sound of it rushing by their heads, the sound of nearby frogs that had the same idea as them. The sound of the croaking frogs was quite soothing, until one landed right on Y/N's face. That definitely pulled them out of their relaxed state.

"Eugh! Am I not already slimy and gross enough right now?"

Garreth sat up and looked down at his friend, with a grimace (and also frog slime) plastered across their face. He giggled before gently saying:

"Here, let me get that for you..."

He cupped some of the clear, cool water in his hands and gently let it pour over Y/N's face, using his thumbs to wipe away the sticky substance. When it was all cleared away, Y/N opened their eyes and stared up at the best friend, smiling. Garreth may be a goofball and a klutz, but he was brilliant to have around at times like this. The tenderness and care that he showed could make someone fall for him...

---

blops 6 really needs that adler nipples peeking through the purple whore shirt dlc

he's a fucked up, horrible, living nightmare. i desire him carnally