i-ship-everybody

[i-ship-everybody]

Leo Valdez headcannons - NSFW

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Gender neutral reader

He’s the neediest person on this planet

Leo is so horny is almost inhuman

I meaning any time of the day he’s ready to go

He acts all tuff but he’s such a bottom

He’s whiny asf

He will grab at you and whine till you give him what he wants

He’s so thirsty for you

He sees you do literally anything that shows that you are a human capable of things and he’s turned on

You open a jar? He’s hard. You make food? He wants you. You read a book? Do a workout? Say something smart? Finish a puzzle? Stretch? Leo is convinced you are the hottest person ever and he’s in the mood

He will cry in bed

Loves getting edged and then overstimulated afterwards

He definitely passes out after sex

This man needs his praise

Don’t ever forget to spend time with him after (aftercare) cause he will cry if you don’t

One time you had a training session the lead but Leo started something right before you had to go. You guys end up having a quickie, you riding him so hard he came twice. You tucked him into bed and gave him a peck on the forehead then left for your class. You get back to your cabin and he’s red in the face, greeting you with a croaky voice. The second you had left he’d felt so unloved and abandoned that he couldn’t help but cry even when Leo knew you had training. You had to take him right back to bed and rub his back till he fell asleep gripping your shirt.

After that no more quickies if you can be together after

Yk this man loves getting his hair pulled or touched

I know I said he loves praise but he’s also into mean praise

“ How’s that feel for my little slut?”

“ Look at you, so inexperienced, coming in two minutes.”

Talking about that..

This boy will come quick. And I know people don’t like that, but let me propose something ☝️

He’s so attracted to you he can just come at the thought of you, so when you touch him he’s quick

So it’s attractive and a compliment, but he stays hard and can come multiple times

He’s so needy for your touch all the time, he’s always touching you. He can’t help it

Leo Valdez loves thighs!

He is always grabbing your thighs, even in now smexy settings

His brain fried when you straddle him and he grabs your thighs

As a child of Hephaestus, he will make sex toys

He will personally customize sex toys, bondage, etc, for both if you

Leo is so creative, your down for whatever, it doesn’t matter to you if it’s the same position ever time.

But he will come up to you with position ideas or kinks to try out that you’ve never even thought of (nothing disgusting, no shit, no piss, no snot, no child play, no animals, no weird shit)

He will suggest positions that you’re not even sure work physically

Temperature play

Shower sex is the best

Give him a blowjob in the shower then turn the water to cold right as he’s coming and he will die

This man has an oral fixation

He loves your mouth, just watching you talk or eat gets him going

He loves when you give him head

He will just trace your mouth with his fingers and just that will get him hard

Morning wood

Every morning, you will feel him on you

Warm morning sex, Leo runs the same temperature as the sun. So imagine warm, fresh bedding. Nice slow morning, nothing to do, and Leo’s pressing himself to you back. And he fukcs you from behind, slow and warm and hitting all the right spots. Your both still bundled up in the blankets

Speaking about blankets

He will get your arm and torso stuck/tangled in the blankets then fuck you while you can’t move

He’s a bottom but trust that he will fuck you like he own you

And he does, you own each other

Call him baby girl or pretty and he will erupt into flames

Leo made fire proof sheets cause the sex is so good he can’t help but start smoking

There are charred hand prints burnt into various places around camp

He kissed with tongue

Hickeys are your new norm

If you guys are just chilling together he’s casually sucking and biting your neck

You now own high collars

Beach sex

He will fuck you in his workshop

Covered in grease

He’s loud, Leo is a moaner

He’s all moans, whines, groans and grunts the second you touch him

Dick warming

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Good night, I need help.

Should I take requests? I want to practice writing more but have no inspiration.

[i-ship-everybody]

Leo Valdez headcannons - fluffy version

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Gender neutral reader

When dating Leo Valdez you are 100% his favourite person and biggest priority

He’s always looking for you and wanting to be with you

Leo will look to share everything with you, new snack? He needs to share with you, someone says something funny? He needs to tell you about it.

When anything funny or weird will happen he will always look to you and you to him

He loves when you play with his hair

Leo will play with your fingers/hands

Instead of buying you flowers, he will make you flowers out of scrap metal. Every anniversary, birthday, Christmas,etc you get a different type of flower

Leo acts all confident but this man cannot take a compliment

Call him pretty or say he did something well and he will blush and tell you to stop, to shut up if he has too

If you are a reader, painter, collector, music lover, baker/cook, or have any hobbies that involve certain objects, Leo will go out of his way to find you a little something to go with that

Leo always looks shocked when you get him anything

He will be in absolute shock if you get him flowers, he’ll play it off but will definitely keep them forever

He will watch Disney movies (the old ones) with you and he loves them

Leo is a diehard fan of cheesy rom-coms

You will find him doing things that he’s seen in the movies

He’ll run and hide if you point it out

If you are someone that’s quick with comebacks or just witty comments he will have fun just bantering with you

He tells you all about his time in foster care

You comfort him and make him feel loved

He is your #1 defender at all times

Anyone says anything about you and smokes coming out of Leo’s ears

He will however make the worst jokes about you and find them absolutely hilarious when they land horribly and you stare at him like:😑

He is surprisingly good at drawing

In his workshop doodles and sketches of you are everywhere, on sticky notes on the walls, scratched into tables, the corner of blueprints, just about painted everywhere with ink

He will get grease all over his face and arms and forget about it

Leo will then shove himself into your arms getting you both dirty

Once you two get closer and further into the relationship he is the most comfortable person ever, I mean saying every thought he’s ever thought to you comfortable

Like he’s comfortable enough to wake you up in the middle of the night just to tell you about some weird dream he had

He 100% pursued you

Leo saw you, knew he wanted you and went after that

He was nervous but he got Annabeth to help him come up with a way to start a conversation

If he needed to he definitely chased you

He grovelled for you, begged for just one chance

You might’ve just been entertaining him at first, then you realize that Leo is the most dedicated person ever

He is the definition of dedication and devotion

Leo won’t even think of another person if he’s with you

He will be your best friend

One thing about Leo is that he will do anything, and I mean ANYTHING with you

You want to go out? He’s down, you want to go get a snack then walk around? He’s already there, you want to go see a movie? Leo already bough the tickets.

Even activities less suited for him, like museums, library dates or spa days. Basically, any calm activity, he will still put the effort in to stay still and silent

And you do the more crazy, energetic ones, even when your not 100% for it

If your having a bad day, he will come in and do one simple act of kindness that will give you the strength to continue the day

For example, during lunch you will accidentally drop your bite of food from your fork and then put your head in your hands done with the day. He will laugh a bit, then get a napkin to clean it up

You’ll do the same for him

Leo is always dropping kisses onto you

Not specifically your lips or even face, if he’s leaving a room he’ll drop a kiss onto your shoulder than leave

Neither of you are big on PDA, hate it actually

But he will find a way to do casual touches that portray such emoting

He will drag his nails over your back and just give you nice rental scratches everywhere

You guys will listen to each other talk about your interest even when you have no idea what the other is talking about

He steals all the blankets and you will absolutely turn over at night to see him on your pillow

Makes your tea/coffee/any drink the best way ever

Casually drops the most beautiful, thoughtful sentences ever then just leaves

Like words that will stay with you forever

He’s always tapping “I love you” onto you

You learn Morse code and now you communicate through it when you’re around others

He has finally found someone that will put him first and whom he can share an intense, loving connection with

Leo is no longer a 7th wheel and will never be again

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Should I do a NSFW or angsty version? Let me know!

[i-ship-everybody]

there's only so much a body can work out, a body can do

Art Donaldson was exhausted.

He was playing tennis for hours a day, exams were coming up, and with Patrick calling from a new time zone every week, he was barely getting any sleep. Even sliding facedown onto the bed next to you offered little relief for his aching muscles.

You let out a sympathetic cluck at his frustrated sigh, dropping your book and winding a hand into his shaggy hair to scratch reassuringly at his scalp. “Poor baby,” you said. “You’re wound up way too tight.”

He didn’t reply, but you could hear his exhale into the mattress. “You need to relax.” You continued, twisting a loose curl around your finger.

“I’m not so good at that.” He admitted in a muffled voice.

“You just need some help.” You paused for a moment, eyeing the tension in his shoulders, the slight arch of his back. “Why don’t you lie down?”

Art tilted his chin up to look at you. “I am lying down.”

“On your back.”

He scanned your eyes briefly before obeying, shirt riding up his toned stomach in the process. “Like this?”

“Yeah, just like that.” You agreed. You sat beside him and he shifted slightly to maintain better eye contact, bringing up an arm to rest behind his head. The movement drew your gaze to his taut bicep, and you couldn’t resist bending down to bite it, just barely hard enough to sting.

You smiled into Art’s skin at his surprised inhale, but you were the one caught off guard when his other arm swept you seamlessly into his lap.

“Hey!” You said, sitting up straight. “Hands to yourself.” He pouted, hand still gripping your hip, but you weren’t joking. When you started to lift yourself off, he caved.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He said, propping himself up with both arms now. “You’re in charge.”

“Don’t forget it.” You warned. He watched, chastised, as you dropped your own hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it up until it bunched at his collarbone. Then, finally, you leaned down to kiss him.

Art was a needy kisser, always waiting for you to guide him, chasing your mouth with his own any time you tried to pull back, whimpering when you licked at the inside of his mouth. You loved kissing him, loved how much it worked him up. He was still a teenage boy, after all.

Once you could feel him properly hard beneath you, you began to descend, teeth scraping his jawbone, his collarbone, his nipple, followed soothingly by your tongue each time. Art’s abdomen was tense beneath your mouth as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his ribs, his navel, his hips.

The tip of his cock was already sticky when you pulled down his boxers and grasped him in your fist, and you wasted no time in leaning down to tongue his slit. Normally you’d tease him much longer, make him beg, but right now, you just wanted to make him feel better. Art could hardly believe his luck.

You pumped the base of him with one hand and cupped his balls with the other as you suckled at his head. A whine escaped from high in the back of Art’s throat, and it only encouraged you to swallow more of him down.

“Oh,” he gasped, hips bucking into your mouth. “Fuck, please, please.” You moved a hand to rub his thigh reassuringly, a wordless promise, and lowered yourself further until your nose nestled against his pelvis. Art was panting desperately above you, the noises so sweet you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down against his leg. He moaned at the feeling of your wetness, which only spurred you on more. For a while, the only sounds in the room were your slurps and gags against Art's cries.

Before long, you could feel the familiar signs of his impending orgasm, and you popped off. It took Art a moment too long to comprehend that you were speaking, too mesmerized by the string of drool connecting you to his dick.

“Where do you want to come, baby?” You asked again, hand continuing your work. “Hmm?”

“Is this a trick question?” He asked between shallow breaths.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and Art’s chest flushed pink. “No.” You promised, ducking to mouth at his balls. “Anywhere you want. Do you want to come in my mouth? On my face, or on my tits?” His face was beautifully unforgettable when you glanced up, eyes dazed and cheeks glowing as he tried to form a thought. “Come on, princess, use your words.”

At that, Art’s cock twitched in your grasp and you took him back into your mouth, tongue working at the underside. “On your face,” he finally said above you, and your stomach swelled. “Wanna come on your face.”

“Okay, baby,” you murmured. “Anything for you.” You pulled off long enough to soak two fingers in your spit, simultaneously gulping him back down and pressing the pads of your fingers behind his balls. Art clenched down and let out a strangled moan as you rubbed over his hole. You teased him with the tip of a finger, nudging at the muscle but not quite penetrating him, soaking up the mewls that fell from his mouth.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna- you’re gonna make me come,” he panted. His thighs were quivering; he was so close, the tension ready to drain from his body. You gave an encouraging hum, swallowing around his cock, and Art’s gasp broke into a sob as he came. You kept him in your mouth for a moment, letting yourself swallow just a little before pulling off to let him splatter onto your face. Art’s whimpers were delicious as he watched himself coat your swollen lips, your long lashes.

“Good boy,” you cooed, fist still working his cock even as he began to flinch from the overstimulation. “That’s it, does that feel better?”

Art’s head was tipped back as he struggled to catch his breath, but even still, his eyes refused to move from the mess on your face. You kept your eyes on his as you lowered your mouth once more, lapping at the dribble of cum down his cock. He started to whine in protest, it was too much, but you took pity and let him go, rocking back on your heels.

“So much better,” he whispered. “That felt so good, I needed it, thank you."

“Good.” You said, licking your lips. “That’s what I like to hear.”

[i-ship-everybody]

Sirius Black should be an entire different sexuality.

[i-ship-everybody]

Leo Valdez x Male reader

You and Leo spend the morning in bed together. Warnings: grinding, underage

~

You huff and stretch as your boyfriend Leo presses his warm body to your back. It was mid August, and much too hot (even in the early morning) for him to be pressing himself against you like this.

Usually, you were always cold during the winter, which was one of the few occasions Leo’s fever-like body temperature came in handy. Other than times like that, you had to deal with your very touchy boyfriend draping his unbearably hot body onto you. Most days, especially during summer months, the heat of him against you made you angry and snappy.

But as you got to know and observe Leo more and more, as your relationship progressed, you’d kept your discomfort to yourself.

You saw how the rest of the 7 treated Leo, as if he was a helpful pet to be entertained. Sure they didn’t mean it, but you saw how being the seventh wheel affected him. You thought of how it must feel to only be conversed with when something needed fixing or to constantly be getting scolded for something that was simply your personality.

Leo made plenty of jokes, not all of them funny, and some at the worst moments. In the end it was just how Leo expressed himself. Humour and mischief was how the son of Hephaestus coped, the limp jokes and snide remarks truly the only way he could process and move pass his difficulties.

It frustrates you sometimes, how can it not? But you didn’t chastise him for it, it was purely how he was, how could you demand he change himself for anyone?

Besides, you were not the easiest to deal with, you were well aware that you carried a bitter attitude with you throughout the day. Leo often comparing you to a vicious cat. You knew you were too cold, too detached. You kept to yourself and that included your thoughts, feelings and problems. Yet Leo never faulted you for it, he had courted you despite your cold demeanour that seemed to only get colder the more you two got close. He had pursued you and your relationship even when you had simply stared at him with furrowed brows and a frown when he had first approached you.

It had been a couple weeks since Leo, Piper and Jason had returned from their quest to save Hera. By now most of the camp had been made aware of the plans to build a warship, which brought more attention to the new delinquent, son of Hephaestus. Leo Valdez, short, Latino, brunette and loud. From what you’ve heard he was the first child of the god of forgery and fire to have control over fire in decades. You hadn’t even met him yet, but gods believe that you heard him everywhere you went.

He was just that loud.

The first time he had approached him you, it had been when you were enjoying some kebab by the fire on a Friday night. The day had been full of swimming, archery and cleaning the bloody knees of the younger kids. Who, for some reason seemed attached to you despite your constant sour expression that had rested on your face so deeply and constantly that you now had permanent furrow lines in between your brows. Your siblings, nearly as grumpy as you, always laughed at the permanent sign of displeasure on your face.

It didn’t bother you, not like most things did. You find the lines amusing, a forever sign of your recurring frustration with people and life. Leo hated them, did his best to smooth them out. Late at night, side by side, with his rough thumbs on your brows is perhaps the only time you feel yourself relax.

That night as you stared at the fire he had suddenly come over and sat beside you. You were aware he was going to do it, you took pleasure in watching others, trying to guess their thoughts, emotions and next move. He had been watching you with a stupid expression on his face for days now, his mouth hanging open as he stared at you had been a slight cause of anger in you. Gapping mouthed people pissed you off, but most things did.

He twisted his fingers and bounced his leg beside you, you continued eating your kabab as you watch his face turn redder and his embarrassment grow.

How funny, you thought. Staring at him through the side of your eye, amusement rising as you watch this stranger try to gather the courage to say something. You couldn’t be bothered to give him the gift of starting a conversation or doing really anything to lessen the tension he was so obviously feeling.

Most people say that you’re a bad person, you guess that the fact that you don’t care might prove them right. At least you only took slight pleasure in uncomfortable social interaction, your sister, Clarisse went out of her way to antagonize people. You much preferred to stand silently and watch people dig themselves into a grave caused by their own decisions to be so easily affected by stumbles in human interactions. Human nature fascinates you, the study of the mind and its behaviour was one of the few things that caught your attention and made you feel more than numb blankness and detached anger.

None of your siblings were like you, they were all so animated, while you were almost devoid of all emotion but the ones strong enough to push to the surface. Hate, disgust, anger, shock, the occasional burst of happiness when the sun is particularly sunny and the birds more birdy. When you were terribly fond of the people you surrounded yourself with, but those moments were rare.

You definitely had your fathers unquenchable thirst for conflict, though you preferred a different path they the rest of the ares cabin. Preferred to watch as humans made their own conflict, as was human nature.

Your thoughts were rudely interrupted by Leo clearing his throat.

You pursed your lips slightly, the only sign of emotion you displayed. He had managed to twitch in silence for nearly five whole minutes. Impressive.

“Soo” Leo failed to start a conversation, “ the kebabs are good,huh?”

You stared at him for a second, enough to see him start to wonder if you were gonna answer him.

How could I make this more interesting…

“No, they’re inedible.”

His eyebrows raise. Leo’s eyes flicker to the spot where the kebab had left grease stains on the paper plate, then to the stick where you had done your best to bite even the smallest bits of meat off. Just as Leo’s eyes flicker to your eyes, then your mouth, to your chin, to the plate and then back towards your mouth you felt dread settle atop you.

Right where he was staring at your chin, you could now feel the crumbs of food you had somehow missed. Anger trickled into your veines as you resisted the urge to whip it away. You’d look even stupider if you did that, you settled to leave it there and act as if your face was spotless.

“Oh yeah, heard they used a new recipe” he stammered.

You nodded with impatience, hopeful to get this over with quickly.

“You know you look really familiar” he continued, seemingly refusing to get detoured.

“Do I?” Your eyebrows raised from where they had been furrowed. Maybe Leo might be interesting after all.

“Yeah, yeah!”

He was nodding, confidence coming back to him in small bursts.

“We take a class together dont we?” No, you didn’t.

“We have chemistry!”

Leo flashed you a slightly charming, deranged grin. That line had been so horribly bad that you needed a minute to process, while doing so you noticed the smears of oil he had on his face. His usual spring curls were sticking up and fluffed out on every side of his head. He had smudges of purple under his eyes and his pupils were blown wide with lack of sleep. He looked psychotic and dangerous, he carried a mad scientist type of energy. Some far away part of you realizes he’s attractive, maybe a little short, but cute.

You bite the insides of your cheeks to keep your lips from twitching. “There are no chemistry classes at camp half-blood.”

“Oh yeah, right. Why would they need it,anyways? With all the chemistry in between us?” You tilt your head at Leo, he was somehow charming.

“We have chemistry?”

“Yes, sir! Of course, can’t you feel it?” He’s excited now, his shoulders moving as he speaks, hair jumping with his voice.

“I must have missed it.” Where is he going with this?

“You have to be really not paying attention then! How can’t you feel the insane energy between us, I study mechanics and even I haven’t seen anything as strong as this.”

“And what it this strong thing?” Your intrigued, you try not to be but his every sentence has you only waiting for more. Leo draws his words out and speaks his sentences so quickly you never know what’s gonna come out next, he could say anything.

“The power of our attraction, the energy between us is so insanely powerful that it might throw the earth of its course, crashing into the sun if we weren’t careful.”

A slight huff of laughter forced itself past your lips, unwanted and certainly unwelcome. You couldn’t help it, his massive exaggerations and manner of speaking delighted you with its

absurdity.

Leo’s eyes shined and his mouth was stretched in a wide smile that looked almost painful, he had gotten you to show him more than unconcerned indifference.

You returned back to the land of the living as Leo made a whining sound, hands pushing the blanket away from you. Calloused fingers hell bent on being the only thing touching your body. Forcing you away from thoughts of the day you met.

Every morning he woke up desperate for attention, Leo would attach himself to you, follow you into the washrooms, drag his hands down your torso all the while trying to convince both of you that a day in bed would be better spent.

You were just waiting for the convincing to start.

Leo opened his mouth just as you sat up from your lying position, body overheating from the combination of Leo and the sleep warm sheets.

“Oh no, mi amor” he whined “stay with me.”

He pulled himself up to follow you, leaning hot chest onto back. “I know you don’t want to get up either, come on ,baby. Let’s stay in bed, there’s not much to do today, let me do you today.”

You huffed, turning towards him. After all these months you still had no idea what would come tumbling out of his mouth, what would come running out of his shop with forks for legs (that one experiment gone wrong he had done last month).

Leo’s hair was delectably mused, cheeks warm with sleep and eyes glazed as well. He was so gorgeous in the mornings you had to stop yourself from eating him.

You had been planing to go to the washroom, but Leo looked so gorgeous when he woke up that you contemplated on whether spending the day ravishing him or completing your duty’s would be better.

Why not both.

Leo grinned and threw his fist up in triumph when you crawled back into the bed. He soon grew silent, his breathing stopped as you continued crawling towards him. Gods, you loved flustering him. He looked the best with your thighs straddling his hips, hands gripping all he could reach.

You reach him and drag your hands up his body, pushing him down by the shoulders. Leo whines and grabs for you to come closer to him, you gently shrug his hands away.

“Shhh, patience Leo”

“Nono, no time for patience…”he mumbled, but never finished his train of thought as you had started to lavish kisses to his lovely, warm stomach.

You hummed and Leo’s hands started racking through your hair, tugging and massaging. You continued to drop kisses all over his torso, dragging your lips from spot to spot. Letting the wet inside of your mouth trail along his skin, leaving shiny lines on his skin.

You continued kissing for a few more minutes, finding your way up to his neck, then jaw and back down just as he had been turning his head to steal a kiss. You couldn’t help but laugh as he huffed at the rejection when you turned your attention back towards his neck. Leo started whining and moving his hips against you, but quit the whining as you bit gently on his collarbone. He shivered and stoped his movement.

You knew he was sensitive there, not because of sensual reasons, no. Leo had confessed to you one night that he had a fear of someone breaking his collarbones simply by applying enough pressure. It was an odd fear, one you liked to poke at. You thought it might be because his collarbones, like most of his bones, were so protruding that it bothered him.

You left a couple more kissed onto his check, sucked a hickey above his peck and then raised your head to look him in the eye.

He was flushed, Leo’s eyes were black and watching you sharply. His lips were wet from biting and licking them in his efforts to stay quiet. Leo’s pouty, red lips looked delicious to you, you raised into your elbows above him then leaned down to taste them.

You hum as you press your lips to his, his bottom lip in between yours, your top lip in between his. You push harder against Leo as he sucks on your lips.

You exchange a couple more kisses, always pulling back when he tries to open his mouth.

Leo’s arms have been gliding all along your body, leaving hot trails of delight along your skin. He stops them at your hips and grabs them hard, pulling you down onto him with a solide thud.

He mumbles happily, and you feel his hands start to grope your ass. It seemed to be his favourite pastime. Whenever he could, whenever you let him, he’d hug you from the front while letting his hands explore all along your back. Reaching up to grip your neck and pull at your hair, trailing his nails down your back, grabbing your hips so hard and pushing his thumbs into your hips bones, then finally sliding down and grabbing a nice handful of your ass. Sometimes he would grab you so hard and so suddenly that you felt a shriek rise in your throat. You held it in, if you didn’t you’d be forced to kill everyone in the vicinity that had heard it, your dear Leo included.

Leo continued to push and press at your ass, you keep giving his little pecks. Soon he grew frustrated with the lack of tongue and decided to push his hands into your pjs bottoms to get his hands on your bare skin.

You tensed as you felt him garb hard at you ass.

“Ouch, Leo”

He laughed, “Aww do I grab you too hard, baby?”

You huffed at his teasing tone, gods he pissed you off. It turned you on.

You grinded your body deeper into his, making sure to press your hips down onto where he was hard for you.

“Yeah, that’s more like it. Let me fuck you, please, kiss me, touch me. Anything, do anything to me, just do something.” Leo begged, teasing making him more impatient than he had woke up.

“Anything?”

Leo nodded viciously, you gave him a deep kiss. He opens his mouth as your tongue pushes against his lips, you drag your tongue across his bottom lip then glide it along his. Leo groans as you gently suck onto his tongue, he loved it when you did that.

As you two continued violently making out, his hands stayed on your ass and you slowly started to push your hips onto his. You adjusted the way you straddled him so that your ass was more planted on his dick than your own was. His hands move to your waist, where his hands settle hot and tight. Leo whines a couple words out in Spanish against your lips, most likely swears, as you start pushing your ass into his hips. You start up a steady rhythm, moving back and forth against him. Leo pants into your mouth, kissing skills gone once he starts receiving pleasure from some other end. Still you drop little chaste kisses onto his face and lips.

Your hips kept moving as your lips trail from his mouth to his check, over his nose, to his other cheek then finally return to his pouty mouth. Leo grips at your hips desperately, trying to pull you down harder and buck up I to you at the same time. You fasten your pace and move onto kissing under his ear. You focus on trying to suck the darkest hickey into that spot, as dark as you can get it. Just as he starts whining louder, a sign that he’s close, you latch onto his neck.

Leo’s whining and moaning out loud, moving and bucking under you. Legs, arms and just about everything twitching uncontrollably once he’s on the edge. You had your lips suctioned below his ear, sucking hard and ass moving hard against Leo’s hips.

Ever since you had started dating, his loudness and submissiveness had always been a place of shock for you. You have never met someone that had wanted to be taken control of, but also get their cock ridding at the same time. Truth be told, as loud as he was speaking level, you did not expect him to match it in the bedroom. Somehow he was even louder, your first real make out he had been making all these sounds, huffing and groaning into your mouth. You had thought it was simply because he was a virgin and he would soon grow out of it as he grew used to pleasure. But no, he even seemed to get louder the more experienced you two got.

It by no means bothered you, but Leo had had to built a hidden treehouse in the forest. When he had first told you about it, you had pictured a ratty old thing, with rotting wood. But no, this man had built the two of you a beautiful, cabin, with a somehow functional washroom. The treehouse, was one whole room, with exception of the washroom, you came up from the ladder into a cosy living room. Red and brown furniture and carpets decorated the floor. Further into the room, the bedroom was separated by a curtain, that pulled back to a queen size bed and two bedside tables with the washroom to the right of the room.

When Leo had shown you it, and explained that he was tired of your or his siblings interrupting you. You had took a minute to laugh, something he wouldn’t get used used to. Because, Leo was truly the horniest person you’ve ever met. Ever since you touched him for the first time he was desperate for you at all times after that. Only him would build a whole house just to run away and fuck in.

Leo spasmed under you, his arms gripping your arms, the bedding then alternating between them. He tossed and turned under you, face a delicious red. He was breathing heavily and his eyes looked truly desperate and glazed. He reached his hands in between your body’s, stoping your movements which drew a desperate cry from him. He grasped the band of his boxer shorts and pulled them down till his cock sprang free. Red and hard, Leo immediately put his hands on your back and pushed you back down. He let out the deepest groan, with his hands gripping the blanket and his eyes stuck to the wood roof when you started up again.

Your thighs were started to hurt and you remembered why you trained legs so much, so you could last long ridding your whiny little boyfriend.

Why you trained so hard, you didn’t know. Since, Leo usually didn’t last this long. Most people are unhappy when their boyfriend comes so quickly, but it only makes you proud. You enjoy making him come multiple times, till his face is as wet as his dick.

“Ah, ah ah ah- fuck, yeah, yeah, justo ahí, mi amor.” Leo panted, his breaths coming out in little moans that were rising in volume.

He was close.

You felt his bare dick twitch onto your ass, his hips were going wild. Buckling in every direction.

Finally, Leo went rigid, hands tight on your back, his whole body arched up into you. His face was contorted into a stiff, open-mouthed expression, and then you felt the warm spurt of his pleasure on your bottom. His back fell back into the bed with a sign, harsh breaths still forcing themselves out of his body.

You lifted your leg over him, shushed him when he let out a mewl and settled beside him. You propped yourself up on your elbow and brushed your free hand through his sweaty curls. His eyes were blinking up at you through long lashes.

“Good?”

“Yeah, so good” Leo smiled and the started laughing.

At first soft huffs of laughter, then his overbearing joy at being alive erupted from his chest through his mouth in loud burst of laughter. It was so happy, so bright and alive, so contagious that you couldn’t help it. You might have laughed a bit with him.

Thought you quickly smoothed a hand over your mouth in effort to stop the laughter and salvage your reputation. Leo caught the movement, his mind more familiar with your habits and quirks than you were, he laughed harder at the sight of your failed concealment.

He apparently found it so funny, that he lifted his hand to point at you. His finger. Right in your face.

The move was so ridiculous and childish that you laughed harder, truly deep laughs. You dropped yourself onto him, pushing his finger out of your face.

It continued on like that for a little bit, till it calmed down into deep breathing. Your face pressed onto his neck and your limbs intertwined like vital veins. Your connection together so crucial that your lives would end should it be severed.

Leo turned to you, shifting so he could look you in the eye. He was smiling, lips spread in a comical closed-lipped smile. You had enough control of your faculties that you did not smile back, simply stared back into his eyes with little to no expression.

He signed happily.

“I love when you do that.”

“Do what? Stare into your soul and frighten you deeply?” You pose, intrigued by where this was going, your eyebrows fury as always. How others viewed you always fascinated you.

“No no, it doesn’t scare me. I love it, you can just look at me and don’t feel like you need to put on something of act.. like some fake face, fake smile. So many people do that.”

You hummed, prompting him further.

“You can just look at me.”

“�� and that’s nice sometimes, you don’t look at me to chastise me, or give me a disapproving look. You look at me just to look at me.” Leo finished, eyes searching for a response.

You didn’t answer for a bit, he didn’t exactly want a response. He just wanted what he’d said to by acknowledged, so you did that for him.

You brought up a shoulder, “Well, you are rather lovely to look at.”

A laugh ripped itself from Leo’s chest, he rose a hand to his warm cheek, ecstatic.

“Gods, I love you.”

“And, I you.”

[i-ship-everybody]

(x)

[i-ship-everybody]

Another old goldie I found in the dark, endless depths of my PC 😂

[i-ship-everybody]

I will always love tall Sirius Black. He is in my heart forever. I love that Harry notices that about him. I love Sirius uses his height to intimidate Peter and Snape. I love that Sirius is tall and handsome and sometimes haughty. I love that he puts his head in his hands when he’s in emotional pain. I love that he retreats to his mothers room when he’s angry. I love that he cares for Buckbeak. I love that he gifts Ron an owl. I love that he sends Harry a note with his paw print. I love that he can turn into a dog the size of a bear. I love that people feared him. I love how he could be ruthless and scary and big.

[i-ship-everybody]

I feel like the double-edged sword of Sirius’s looks is rarely explored.

The immediate snap judgements from people, the envy, the contempt and spite, and also this rapturous worship. People projecting onto him and claiming to either deeply hate him or have experienced ‘love at first sight.

All before he’s opened his mouth.

And deep down he fears he’ll always be a trophy to someone, not loved for his mind or character but because he’s handsome.

Also the exhaustion of being in a public space and not having any anonymity.

[i-ship-everybody]

This was a palate cleanser

[i-ship-everybody]

Short Black family is OUT obscenely unfairly tall Black family is IN. Andromeda being taller than Ted. Regulus being slightly shorter than Sirius, who towers over pretty much everyone. Walburga who is 5’11 and 6 foot in heels. Bellatrix who towers over the other death eaters. Narcissa being the same height as Lucius Malfoy.

[i-ship-everybody]

“On your knees,” he orders. 

“No,” Harry snaps, annoyed. “I’m not in the mood for sex right now. Merlin.”

A hand touches his cheek hesitantly, and Harry’s glare falters when he meets confused red eyes. “My apologies. I am… unsure how to help you in this situation.”

Harry lets out a breath it feels like he’s been holding for days and grabs Voldemort’s hand. Their fingers twist, intertwining. He swallows around his residual anger, aware that Voldemort’s trying. “I don’t need sex or platitudes from you, V. I just need you to be here with me.”

Voldemort’s shoulders lose some of their tension, and his arms slowly wind around Harry. Harry lets him bear some of his weight, knowing that Voldemort needs to feel like he is somehow helping him, somehow supporting him, lest he become moody and taciturn. A year ago Voldemort would have scoffed at the thought of holding hands; now he wraps around Harry, holding him safe and secure. 

It’s not nothing.

In that moment, it’s enough.

[i-ship-everybody]

Time travel AU; Tomarry

Harry was seven the first time he appeared.

Tom arrived to him small and trembling, with bare blue fingers and toes. His teeth chattered noisily while hands worked insistently up and down his arms to generate some illusion of heat. It was a rather odd sight, considering it was thirty seven degrees outside and Harry was sweating a bit, himself. Not to mention the boy had just materialized in his supposedly secure hiding spot, without so much as a sound of warning or shimmer about the air. 

Or, you know, walking or running, because that’s how any other child got around.

Harry shook away the thought, pushing himself off the tree stump and letting shredded leaves fall from his grasp. 

The child was looking up, now, glancing around like a frightened rabbit, silver-grey eyes wide and wild. He couldn’t have been more than four years old, which wasn’t that much younger than Harry, but he wasn’t used to being around toddlers. In fact he had never been around anyone smaller than him for more than a few minutes - their parents always rushed them away, thanks to his reputation as the Dursleys' troubled nephew.  

Harry wouldn't let the boy freeze because his parents would be mad they'd spoken. Not that they would be angry at the boy, mind: it was Harry that always got into trouble for such things. He would be fine.

(And no, Harry wasn’t at all resentful. Really.)

Dilemma solved, Harry stepped forward resolutely and wrapped his arms around the trembling child. The boy stood stiff and unresponsive, tremors still wracking his form. Harry was a whole head taller than him; from this close he could see what appeared to be snow melting atop night-dark curls.

Harry blinked in surprise. He had thought the boy had been locked in a freezer, with how cold he was, but snow in July? 

Where was it cold this time of year? 

Sweden? 

Antarctica? 

Iceland? 

Did the boy even speak English? 

Harry knew that if you wished hard enough you could escape a place: after all, he had ended up across the schoolyard four days ago, on the school roof of all places! But maybe this boy had gone further? 

“All right?" Harry asked, going to pull away, but the boy suddenly began clinging to him, head pressing forward into his chest.

What did parents call their kids to comfort them? Aunt Petunia always said “Duddums,” or “Dudders,” but those were just nicknames. Maybe… 

“Uh, it’s okay, d-darling?”

The boy stilled again, sniffling once and looking up with narrowed eyes, as if he thought Harry was making fun of him. Maybe only adults called people that? Oh God, Harry had no idea what he was doing. This was his first hug, after all… 

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he tried again. “We’ll get you home, so you’ll be all right. With your, uh, parents and stuff. Don’t cry, please.”

Well, that was more begging than reassuring, probably, but Harry had no clue what he was doing here. He’d never had to comfort anyone a day in his life!

“I wasn’t crying!” The boy denied, shoving himself away from Harry fiercely even though he was still quivering and unnaturally pale. “And I don’t have any parents.”

“Oh. Okay,” Harry raised his hands defensively, ready to spring back if the boy lashed out again. When people got angry with him it rarely went well. “Um, I don’t either. Have parents, that is. And I didn’t mean to make you upset.” 

Harry wasn’t going to apologize for it. He had to do enough of that at the Dursley’s, and he had only been trying to help, besides. Still, he knew how frustrating it was when parents got brought up. The reminder that he was an orphan, trapped with the Dursley’s for a very long time to come, was far from comforting. 

“Just another orphan, then,” the boy said dismissively. Harry didn’t bother being offended, as it was the truth, though that tone was a bit... 

“I suppose,” Harry said. “You’re still cold, aren’t you? Let’s move out of the shade.” 

The boy squinted at him suspiciously, but nonetheless followed when Harry led the way to a nearby rock and gently pressed him to sit on it. He kneeled on the dead, brown grass and eyed blue fingers and bare toes worriedly.

“That’s not good,” he whispered. Harry reached out to the other boy slowly, as though he were a wild animal, and the child jerked away.

“What are you doing?”

“They’re blue,” Harry frowned. “Just - let me -” 

Harry took the boy's hands in his own and brought them to his mouth, breathing hot air onto them. The boy made a mildly disgusted sound and made to move back, but Harry held tight, rubbing to create heat through friction. 

He felt gross and sweaty, and frankly the cool of the boy’s hands was a relief on such a day, but mostly he was worried. He knew, vaguely, of hypothermia, and he didn't want the boy’s fingers to fall off.  

The boy glared at Harry, but didn't try to pull away again, though he watched his every movement rather suspiciously. That wasn't anything new to Harry, of course. Everybody found him suspicious. 

“Where am I?” The child demanded, after a long period of silence in which they were essentially holding hands. 

“We’re at a park in Little Whinging, Surrey.” 

“Surrey? I was just in London…”

Harry frowned back. “Are you sure? It's not snowing in London.”

“It was five minutes ago,” the boy said firmly, crossing his arms. 

“In July?” Harry murmured, incredulous. 

“I'm not lying,” the boy said coolly, though the effect of his glare was somewhat ruined by the shivers still wracking his body. “And it's February, besides.”

“I didn't say you were lying,” Harry huffed. “Just that you’re wrong. It's July 30th.”

The boy frowned, glancing from the sun high in the sky to the brown grass. He seemed at a loss, eyes flitting around as if trying to find something to refute Harry’s claim.

Harry watched him, considering. 

“My name is Harry,” he said. “What’s yours?”

The boy blinked at him. “Tom,” he said. “Tom Riddle.”

...

Harry was in the astronomy tower, legs dangling over the edge, eyes looking towards the ground. His companion arrived as suddenly as always, the only announcement of his presence the prickling at Harry’s neck.

“...Harry?” 

He turned with a tired smile, faltering only slightly when he noted what Tom was wearing. A slightly oversized version of the Hogwarts uniform hung over his small frame, a silver and green tie smoothed on his neck. 

“What’s wrong, love?” Harry asked, falling to his knees beside the bright-eyed boy. Tom wasn’t crying, but his eyes were burning with something like anger and loneliness and despair. It took Harry a moment, but when he caught sight of the bruise marring Tom’s face he felt his breath catch in his chest.

“You—who—how dare—!” Harry couldn’t seem to bring himself to coherence, so instead he shut his mouth and carefully tilted Tom’s chin to get a better look at the mark. It was large, spanning from his right cheekbone to eyebrow: a mottled, puce discoloration that never should have touched on Tom’s strong features. 

Tom allowed Harry to maneuver him without complaint, eyes wide and hungry as they took him in.

“Even at Hogwarts,” the younger boy murmured, smaller hand reaching out, brushing against Harry’s cheek. 

Harry couldn’t help the soft look that overcame him, despite the anger boiling, wrathful, in his gut at the sight of Tom’s injury. “I’m glad,” he said softly. “I’d rather not go ten months without seeing you, Tom.” 

Though truly it hadn’t been so long for Harry. After all, hadn’t he seen Lord Voldemort rise only a few months ago?

But no. This was Tom, his first friend, the first person he’d thought to protect, not a single trace of serpent in his visage.

This was Tom, with one of his eyes half swollen shut.

Harry didn’t know any healing charms, but he had taken to carrying around the salve Hermione made for his hand. He unscrewed the lid and gathered more than was probably necessary, the goop thick on his fingers. 

“Stay still for me, okay?” 

Tom tilted his head, not wary but measuring, and Harry held his gaze until the boy’s shoulders loosened and he nodded.

Once upon a time, Lord Voldemort had been capable of trust. Theoretically it was a hard thing to grasp, but in practice it just made something in Harry’s chest melt.

Harry massaged the salve in gently, careful not to get too close to Tom’s eye. He was nearly done by the time Tom gasped, jerking away.

It must have started tingling.

“That’s…” 

“Strange?” Harry smiled at him. “Yeah. Hold still, you’ll need a bit more to help with the swelling.” 

“Why do you have this?” Tom asked, even as he obediently shut his eyes and swayed forward. “Have you been getting into fights, Harry?” 

How strange, the way Tom said his name now, compared to the way he would one day, in a dark, dreary graveyard.

Harry laughed off the comparison, laughed so he didn’t retreat back to misery, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Tom’s forehead. To the place that he would one day mark Harry.

“Always,” he smirked, pulling back to catch sight of Tom’s wide-eyed look. He screwed the lid back on the salve, wiping his fingers on his robe and slipping it back into his pocket. “Now, are you just going to sit there gaping all night, or would you like to learn how to defend yourself with magic?” 

Tom opened his mouth, probably in protest against that gaping remark, but closed it before saying anything and nodding his assent.

Harry drew his wand, a wand Tom had only seen a handful of times, and he couldn’t help the way his muscles tensed. Harry didn’t mention it.

“Protego,” he enunciated, making the motion with his wand a bit slower than he might otherwise.

“That’s a fifth year spell,” Tom pointed out.

“One that you’ll master,” Harry agreed cheerily. “Unless you want to be tickled to death.” 

It would have been more logical to use some sort of pain as motivation - such as a stinging hex - but Harry, Tom knew, did not want to hurt him. Still, he could deal with pain. Given his age, Harry was expected to be stronger than him, to be able to harm him. And to Tom, it would be far more humiliating to be reduced to helpless giggles.

Harry knew him too well, to play on his pride like this.

Tom found he didn’t mind

It took time, but Tom did manage to conjure the shield charm. 

Only when Harry flicked his wand the spell broke through, and Tom fell to the ground in peels of laughter. Harry held the enchantment for a long moment, watching grey eyes come alive with mirth, small body wriggling, before he waved his wand in a silent counter.

“Don’t rely on your shield alone,” Harry instructed. “You may be strong, but you’re still a first year, which means somebody else is stronger.” 

As if he needed the reminder, Tom mused bitterly, hand jerking a bit as he fought the urge to prod at his tingling bruise. Harry didn’t mention his short, derisive laugh. 

“What did you do when somebody tried to hit you at the orphanage? Dodged. It doesn’t matter that you have a wand, and spells; those aren’t the only tools available to you. You have a body - use it!”

In a way Tom appreciated the way Harry never sugarcoated anything. On the other hand, mere mention of the orphanage infuriated him. If not for the fact that Harry had been bullied himself, Tom might have held a grudge. As it was he knew Harry understood him, and what he went through. Knew that he was only mentioning that rotten place to draw a comparison and not degrade him. 

He didn’t get impatient when Tom’s second attempt failed, or his third and fourth, nor did he relent in his assault. He was strangely inspirational, Tom thought. He was encouraging, but had high expectations, and he seemed used to teaching. His patience went far further than Tom’s own extended, and he had no trouble explaining things a different way when his words didn’t click for Tom. 

But then, Tom almost instinctively knew what Harry meant. They were connected, in some odd, impossible way. 

Tom’s cheeks had burned in embarrassment when he discovered that there was no such thing as soulmates, even in the magical world. He had been so sure.

…

“You’ve gone pale.”

Tom looked down to his fading fingers with a scowl. 

“I want to spend more than a measly two hours with you,” he said, gripping the front of Harry’s robes as though it would prevent their time from coming to an end. 

“I know, darling,” Harry murmured, running a hand through his night-dark curls. “Just remember that I'm very proud of you, all right? I care for you, and that accounts for the decades we have to spend apart.”

“Harry, have I found you yet?” Tom whispers. The question hangs in the darkness, but before Harry can formulate a response Tom vanishes from his arms. 

…

“Hello darling,” Harry smiles, rather taken with the blush that lights Tom’s nose and the tips of his ears. “When are we?”

“31st of December, 1940.”

“Happy birthday, then. How does it feel to be fourteen?”

“No different than thirteen, I’d imagine,” Tom replies. 

“No?” Harry’s eyes glint wickedly. “Let’s see if we can’t brighten your day. Have you ever been ice skating, Tom?”

Tom blinked at him, eyebrows pulling together. “No,” he responds. “Have you?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” Something in Tom thrills at the reckless grin Harry levels him with. “We can try together, yeah? The Black Lake should be frozen over, and I know a few spells if not. The grounds should be abandoned at this time, especially considering it’s break.”

Tom stares incredulously for a moment longer, before shaking his head. “It’s past curfew, Harry. Even if it’s a holiday, I can’t be caught outside and still be chosen as a prefect next year.”

“Let’s not get caught, then,” Harry says softly, eyes sparking. 

Tom takes him in for a moment, and lets out a long sigh - mostly for show, mind you. Being cooped up in the Common Room, staring out at the Black Lake was hardly what Tom wished to be doing, regardless of the days. “Only you, Harry Potter, could talk me into doing such a thing. You’d better be practised with cushioning charms.”

A warm hand comes to grip Tom’s, pulling him towards the door. “We won’t need them,” Harry says, sounding rather assured. “You’re ridiculously graceful, so I expect you to catch me if I start to fall.” 

Harry, it turns out, is far better at keeping his balance on the slick surface. But the older boy takes both of his hands, slowly skidding backwards, balancing him so he won’t fall. And Tom is sure that when he does, he takes Harry with him.

…

Tom is standing on the balcony. Harry looks him over, absently checking for injuries. 

“You look posh,” he says, surprised. The last time he had seen Tom, he was still in second hand robes, though judging by his appearance it had been nearly a year - or an abrupt growth spurt. 

“Harry,” Tom breathes out, and all of the irritation in his posture and face smooth out as he turns and catches sight of him. Something like excitement brightens the air around him, and he reaches out, catching Harry’s sleeve and drawing him close. “You’re really here.”

“I am,” Harry smiles. “Have I kept you waiting?”

“Rather,” Tom sniffs. “It’s been nearly a year. You’ve chosen a rather poor venu, though; the Malfoy’s annual Yule Ball.”

“Oh,” Harry frowned. “I suppose you’ll need to get inside and schmooze with the purebloods.” 

“That is the point in me attending,” Tom agreed lightly. “But the ball is already halfway over, and I’ve met plenty of important people already. You could join me for a dance…” 

“Inside?” Harry asked, surprised. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tom… if anybody but you sees me, I’m afraid of what’ll happen.”

“The music’s loud enough,” Tom offers. There’s something almost hesitant in his eyes, Harry notes. A very rare thing, for Tom is most always sure of himself. “We can dance here.” 

Harry smiles, drawing Tom’s hand into his own. “All right, but don’t be mad if I step on your toes. You’ve asked for it.”

Tom’s eyes glint. A smirk curls his lips. “Oh my,” he says, stepping close as one hand finds Harry’s waist and the other intertwines their fingers. “Have we found something I’m better at?” 

Harry snorted. “You’re better at loads,” he said, stumbling a step back when Tom begins their dance. “I’ve got nearly three years on you at the moment, and I’m positive your spell knowledge well exceeds mine.”

Tom quirks a brow. “Perhaps if you studied more?”

Harry smiled. “I started studying seriously in my Fourth year. You, however, have been at it from your First.”

“Shall we duel?”

“I’d rather we never cross wands,” Harry says lightly, but his eyes have gone dark. He grips Tom a bit tighter, posture straightening. Tom’s nearly a head shorter, like this. “This is hard to do backwards.”

“Then lead.”

Tom’s words had been half-teasing, but when Harry takes control of the dance things smooth out rather quickly. He’s clearly at least practiced in this part, and twirls Tom around the balcony without much trouble.

“There you are,” Tom says into his neck, “No more stepping on me.” 

Harry huffs a laugh, one hand rising from Tom’s waist to brush through his hair. The motion is soothing, half-remembered from the last time Tom had a fever. He leans deeper into Harry. He would join them together if he could; make them intrinsic, never able to be torn apart, not even by time. 

“I miss you,” Tom admits, like it’s a dark secret. “When you’re gone, I miss you, Harry. I’ve never missed anybody else.” 

Harry’s throat tightens. His hand continues its careful strokes, and they’ve stilled in their dancing. They sway in place.

“I wish we could be like this forever,” Harry says in turn, secret traded for secret. 

Tom makes a noise in his throat, something almost needy, and clings harder, nails digging into Harry’s robe. “Don’t leave,” he demands. “Stop leaving me.” 

Harry sighs. “I can’t,” he says. “You know I can’t, Tom.”

Tom pulls back, meeting his eyes. His face is flushed from the cold, eyes gleaming with a fierce longing. Something in Harry aches in answer.

“Let’s sit,” Harry says softly. “The sky is beautiful here.”

Tom nods, but hardly lets them pull apart. They sit, limbs tangling, but instead of staring at the stars Tom stares at Harry. Harry pretends not to notice.

An hour later, only the lingering warmth of Tom’s palm proves he was ever there at all.

…

The next time Tom appears it’s in Harry’s time. The situation is less than ideal; it’s a Hogsmeade weekend, and there's an attack.

But Tom does not know the context. All he knows when he appears is that Harry is flushed, breathing hard, back pressed against a building. And Tom does not freeze like Harry sometimes does at the abrupt displacement, but strides towards Harry with a familiar determination.

It’s the look Lord Voldemort gets when he’s decided to kill Harry.

But instead, Tom presses him tighter against the building. Searches his face. And then he pushes their mouths together, lips moving insistently against Harry’s own, almost desperate to provoke a reaction. 

Apparently deciding to kiss and kill Harry inspires the same look.

There’s a moment when Harry wants, but then he pulls away, the rejection gentled by the way he cradles Tom’s cheek. 

“Tom, I -”

Harry's eyes flick up from Tom’s, catching a movement,  and his hands drop as though burned. He’s quick to grab Tom by the hips and switch their positions, putting his body between Tom and Voldemort as he took in the tall, serpentine Lord. 

Voldemort’s smile was a cruel, mirthless thing. “Playing house with one of my horcruxes, Harry? How… unexpected.”

Harry swallowed. So Voldemort didn’t know, then -  he didn’t remember, though Harry had figured as much. 

“Tom, stay behind me and avoid his eyes.” 

“Harry, who—”

“Please, Tom!”

Tom stepped back, but he didn’t move quickly enough to avoid a bolt of purple light.

‘Bugger,’ Harry thought, body jerking in front of Tom instinctively, taking the hit. 

The spell has no evident effect beyond freezing him in place, and a strongly thought Finite Incantatum saw him free. Still, Harry did not shift; he would use any advantage he could get, and Voldemort thinking him helpless was certainly an advantage.

“What shall I do with you now, Harry?” Voldemort hissed, a demented smile pulling his lips up. 

“Avada Ked—“

“Expelliarmus!” Harry cried. Tom’s wand flew from his hand, smacking Harry’s palm. Well, so much for that plan. “Expelliarmus!”

“Crucio.”

The spells slammed together and the magic splintered, the wand's magic dying as it recognized it was being turned against itself. 

Voldemort’s eyes burned. “How do you have that wand?”

Harry watched him carefully, backing up until his hip pressed against Tom. He pressed the yew wand into warm hands, not daring to take his eyes off Voldemort to see his expression. 

Tom inhaled sharply, and he was too clever to not connect the dots. When he spoke his voice was torn between horror and fury. “There’s no way.”

“You need to go,” Harry hissed back. “Now.” 

“We haven’t exactly figured out how to control it—”

“Tom,” Harry snapped. The other teen quieted, and Harry heard fabric shift. “Repeat after me: lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”

“Harry—”

“Do you want to die?” 

There was a long pause. A hand pressed over Harry’s spine, almost too hard to be a comfort. 

“Lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”

The air shifted, and the warm pressure of spindly fingers against Harry’s back melted away. 

Harry and Voldemort stared each other down from across a field.

“It seems,” Voldemort hissed, “we have much to discuss, Harry.”

[i-ship-everybody]

Hear me out: Sirius giving his first blowjob to James and trying to do everything he felt the girls doing to him when he's had his cock sucked but he just ends up gagging on James' dick and crying out of frustration. James develops several new kinks that day. 

[i-ship-everybody]

🐍 tomvoldemortriddle Follow Anyone who thinks they are better than me is actually worse than me, and anyone who thinks they are worse than me wishes they had my level of severe psychological damage

⚡ theboywholivedagain Follow not sure how to roast your post for once. congratulations

🐍 tomvoldemortriddle Follow I suppose you must think you're better than I am?

⚡ theboywholivedagain Follow no you see i live in this completely separate category called 'normal'

#gottem #way to go lads #knew we'd get there in the end

🐍 tomvoldemortriddle Follow I despise you.

[i-ship-everybody]

Need this as a fic, this is so silly

one penny !

Definitely my most unhinged WIP: (A non-magic AU) After Tom and Harry break up, Harry blocks him on all of his socials, phone number etc. Tom doesn't exactly take well to that, and proceeds to use one of those money sending apps to send one penny at a time to Harry just so he can message him somewhere. The messages get progressively more unhinged, until Tom does something notably more illegal (like break into Harry's house or something, I haven't really thought that far yet). Alas, no snippet, but the file does have whatever this is:

Tom sent 0.01 £ [3.24] where are you Tom sent 0.01 £ [3.45] im outside your door Tom sent 0.01 £ [3.57] i will break in Tom sent 0.01 £ [11.21] im sorry i didnt mean that, do you still love me Tom sent 0.01 £ [15.08] if you dont answer im killing myself, i know you can see these Tom sent 0.01 £ [20.11] why are you having someone over Tom sent 0.01 £ [20.14] who is that ill kill them Tom sent 0.01 £ [20.20] im breaking the window

Not sure if this will ever turn into anything else, but at least it does make me giggle. Ty for asking!! 💕

[i-ship-everybody]

Kaz Brekker canonically swallowed a bomb and regurgitated it every two hours and I feel like as a fandom, we talk way too little about this. Wtf is wrong with this kid