TOBY McCLOSKEY; xviii. former gryffindor. beater for puddlemere united. chaotic neutral. metamorphmagus. half-blood. full-time muggle entusiast, part-time goofball.
likes: the beatles, star wars, back to the future, marvel comics, muggle card tricks, professor sprout's hat, puns, butterbeer, puddlemere united, chocolate frog cards, quidditch, mischief - making.
Grace spent most of her days alone these days. She was disowned, she had no job at the moment, Isaac was working at a Muggle museum, Alison had Healer training and the only other people in her family who bothered speaking to her were at school. So, to pass time, she would often wander place to place, usually to a bar to get drunk and let loose. On this particular day, she was at the Leaky Cauldron, trying to think of what she could possibly want to do with her life now that she had travelled during the summer. Hearing a familiar voice, she looked up and gave her old friend a small smile. “Hey Toby,” she greeted. “Just… hanging out.” It had spread amongst most wizarding families (especially the purebloods) that Grace had been disowned prior to graduation by the van Dorens, yet, some of her old friends didn’t know and she preferred to keep it that way.
He remembered a time in First Year, when the two young souls had hated -- or rather, pretended to hate -- each other. But soon after their initial childish feuds, Toby had found in Grace a lifelong friend. Yet in more recent weeks, he’d barely seen the brunette, her elusive secrets trapped within her, a Pandora’s Box of a girl. He knew she was in trouble -- that much was clear from her behaviour -- but the extent of her situation was as much a mystery to the boy as an Agatha Christie novel. “Gracie!” The former Gryffindor chorused, slightly starstruck at her presence after so many months of absence. “Jaysus, Mary and Joseph -- it’s good ta’ see you!” As he slipped into the seat opposite, the boy couldn’t help but notice the pallor of her skin, the bags beneath her tired eyes, concern immediately lacing his features. “I missed you, y’know. S’been months. Did ye’ not get me’ owls? Sent dozens. I was bleedin’ worried.”
The pain Eden felt was stimulating, an aching sensation she couldn’t get enough of. She was the last of her friends to be deflowered, and after being forced to listen to the horror stories about their first times, she’d initially expected to feel agony that wouldn’t last long enough to turn into exultation when she and Toby finally made love.
However, the light, slightly uncomfortable twinges she experienced were naught compared to the way she felt both internally and externally. Just a moment prior, she never thought it’d be humanly possible to love Tobias more than she already did. With his body against hers, the twosome closer than they’d ever been, her beliefs were quickly destroyed.
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Tobias couldn’t say what he imagined his first time would be like -- if he had to guess, he had probably thought it would be far more clumsy. Far more nervous. Far more tender than the passionate gestures overcoming both of their bodies as they moved in synchronisation like amorous creatures, built by lust and selfish desires. Somehow, it was anything but nervous, the two of them following instinct as if they were connoisseurs in the art of love-making.
In the four years he had known her, Toby had made the mistake of thinking he knew all there was to discover about the comely brunette -- yet every moment, he was discovering more layers to her, unearthing secrets which somehow only made him appreciate her more.
Without warning, Eden’s walls were suddenly clenching around him, drawing an immediate reaction from the lad and betraying the extent of his pleasure. “Jaysus Christ!” An unepected groan broke free of his lips, a shudder running along his length as his teeth sunk into the flesh of his lip, attempting to suppress his moan. Her whispered words only pushed him closer to the edge, knowing now that what she wanted was not the soft, gentle, sweet kind of love he had always presumed it would be, but the desperate, hungry, animalistic love that was only born from the kind of passion that their connection held.
With a rough thrust his length rolled deeper into her core, arms winding around her back to pull her closer to his form, needing the heat of her skin against his. His hips rolled backwards, pushing the soft curves of her body against the crisp linen, his body now covering hers as his Beater’s hands traced lazily over her thighs. The fingers of his left hand eagerly claimed her wrists, tugging them up above her head to pin them down against the pillow, imprisoning her to their lust. Without hesitation, his other hand pushed between her damp folds, stroking against the heat of her lips as his thumb searched for that epicenter of pleasure, needing to hear her moans. They were like a symphony to the boy. Never had he imagined he could cause so much pleasure in the Gryffindor -- yet now, it seemed almost obvious.
His lips found hers once more, mouthing her name into their kiss as he regulated the movements of his thumb against her bundle of nerves in time to the rhythm of his rough thrusts. A sharp gasp of pleasure tore from his throat as his jaw found shelter in the crook of her neck, his words whispered against her ear. “I-- I love you. Jaysus, I love ya’ so much.” Another moan, breathless as his hips rolled against hers, passed his lips as they brushed against her own. “There ain’t a damn thing I wouldn’t do for ya’, Edie. ‘Cept maybe kill a unicorn... Or- Or eat a slug. But bloody ‘eck. I’d do just about anythen’ else. Jaysus, do I love yer’.”
Christian laughed at his best friend’s reaction, shaking his head in amusement. “I told you I was going to be here after work, why are ye’ acting so surprised?” Honestly, he found the whole spectacle to be amusing, but not very surprising. Even despite Gryffindor’s not so spectacular season the previous year, he wasn’t shocked that out of the three lucky students to be plucked to play in the big leagues, that Toby had been one of them. He had a talent, and now he was on a team that was on the same level as he was.
“Sorry. Yeah, o’ course you did, I just--” Toby exhaled a breath, blowing air into his freckled cheeks, head shaking with the sheer incredulity of what had become his every day life. Everyone on the team dealt with the stress of life in the limelight in different ways -- for most, it was merely easy as breathing, now. But for Toby, it was taken a little more time to settle into the rhythms of Puddlemere life. With the fame attached, he now understood the ordeals young Clara must go through every day. “Busy day at the office, y’know?” The former Gryffindor teased, glancing towards the bar. “Hey, it’s good to see you, mate. First round’s on me, alright?”
Aurora had glanced up from her drink when the door opened rather violently, causing quite a few older wizards to shoot a glare in that direction. With an amused smile the witch gave the familiar face a small wave. “Taking a break from shopping before my arms drop off. This was, unfortunately, the closest place.” The blonde shrugged, setting her drink aside. “You look as if you’ve run a marathon. Escaped from some sort of scrape I presume?”
“Ah, but Rory, love, en’t I always on the run -- from someone or something, from rules and regulations, from life, or even meself,” the lad remarked, his eyes trailing off as he looked into the distance, a forced pretentiousness lacing his words. An attempt at a chuckle fell from his lips as he slid into the seat opposite Aurora, dropping a bag of quidditch supplies beneath the table. Whilst the two had been friends at school, Toby was no stranger to Aurora’s living arrangements. To visit would mean seeing Eden -- better to let old wounds heal. The brunette had made her intentions quite clear; the Beater wasn’t about to chase her. “What’s your poison, Delacour?”
Autumn at last fell from the browning oaks to a warm welcome. There was something about the crunch of orange bracken underfoot and the smell of the post-summer grass that the young Quidditch prodigy adored. It was a mere two months since Tobias had taken on his permanent position as Puddlemere’s youngest Beater to date, yet still he seemed to be flocked with fans of the sport as he voyaged through Diagon Alley. He had dipped into the sanctuary of The Leaky Cauldron to escape the pandemonium, his cheeks flushed and heart racing, when he spotted a familiar face. “Oh! Well I never! Surely it ‘ent--- Bleedin’ ‘eck, it’s bloody good to see ya’. What’re ye’ doin’ down ‘ere?”
christian: You're an adult. :P I'm about to be an adult too, birthday is in a few weeks. Super weird. I'm sure everything will work out in the end. Just be careful. As a member of the Black family, I can tell you I lucked out with my parents not disowning me because of Fatima being half-veela. Some people are...a bit fanatical. Dangerously so.
toby: If I refuse to believe it, will that make it untrue? Okay, I'll get Emerson to hire the strippers for your party. ...Joking, of course. I wouldn't even know how to find a stripper. I don't suppose they're listed in the yellow pages. Not that I'd want one. I think I'd much prefer to talk to them about their favourite films and tv shows. It's hard to be attracted to a woman you don't know. Fatima's an angel, though, even if she is half-veela. Who wouldn't love that smile. Fanatical? Try timesing that by like a thousand and you're still not even close to Edgar Farmiga. He's like if Red Skull and the Incredible Hulk had a love child - except without the Bruce Banner half of Hulk, just the giant green people-smashing side.
“You can’t possibly love me as much as I love you, Tobes.” Eden cooed, green hues gazing at her beloved. Love was putting it simply; Eden lived for Toby. Whether he was aware of it or not, he held all the power in the world over her in the palm of his hand. She was his, and nothing and no one in the world would ever or could ever change that.
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Fingers squeezed against her smaller ones as Toby felt her hand clamp his, his lips finding hers, as he heard the catch of her breath. His hands trailed across her skin with the same delicacy as he would touch glass, breakable under his clumsy touch, his fingers tracing light patterns against her shapely hips. Lips peppered kisses down the flesh of her neck, his breaths short and raspy against her throat as his lips formed her name.
Hips rocked slowly into hers, inch by inch his length pushing further as a sigh slipped from his parted mouth, his tongue skirting over his lips. His hands fell to her hips, gently lifting their weight to ease the pain, stilling as he allowed the sensation to linger. “A-are you okay?” Tobias whispered, cautious of moving, his breaths short in his throat. “Does it hurt?”
For so long he had dreaded -- even feared -- the loss of his virginity. The very notion had haunted him. But for the three years their relationship had spanned, Eden had not once pushed him to face his fear. Four months of absence had given him the time needed to think, and two months since their last break-up had made him realise how much he needed Eden Farmiga. He loved her. That was the only possibly explanation for the suffocating warmth he felt inside whenever she so much as looked in his direction. With Eden, it just felt impossibly right.
A sudden yelp passed the Gryffindor’s lips as he felt her nails bite into the skin of his chest, his eyes locking with hers, desire rimming her emerald hues. A gasp passed his lips as her hips rolled against his, his breath shaking, a flush covering his pale cheeks as strong arms snaked around her back, fingers longing to explore each inch of her skin. He could see the eagerness in her eyes, feel her desire in the push of her hips against his own, and soon their hips began to roll in sync, slow thrusts accompanied by whimpered gasps of her name.
He couldn’t deny that he had imagined the scene before. Since their passionate encounter all those months ago, Eden had frequented his dreams, but before he could feel the warm embrace of her celestial skin, the dreams would always end with Edward, cold eyes and bloodied fists. Teeth bit into his lower lip as he tried to suppress his thoughts, lips quivering from the sheer euphoria beginning to build within him. His gasps became moans as his hips began to roll more more roughly into her own, his eyes examining her face for any signs that he should slow his momentum, or stop completely, fear of hurting his inamorata driving his caution. “Eden, tell me... If-- If you need me to stop.” The halfblood pleaded, his rhythm slowing as his movements became more gentle. His hand reached to cup her face, thumb caressing her lower lip with a breathless sigh as his head rested against her own. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
christian: Fair enough. Can't wait to see yours and Emerson's place. I could've told you you're a hot mess, but you're Toby, my hot mess of a best friend. Is everything alright?
toby: I can't wait for you to see it! Sounds weird saying it. No way am I an adult. Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, Christo, it's just stuff, you know. Well actually, it's not stuff, it's Eden. I just wish it was simpler. But I'll figure it out. I always do.
Tobias’ sudden vigorousness stimulated Eden in ways she never knew were possible.
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All rules had disappeared. Toby was so far out of his comfort zone, he wasn’t even sure he’d ever find it again. One moment had been simple teasing, the next, Eden had taken the reigns, and now this. Ebony eyes widened like saucers. Shock overcame the Gryffindor, his hair flashing a brilliant shade of white. His breath hitched, shaking in his throat, and before he knew it his hand was covering his eyes, as if to shield his innocence from the temptress above him.
It wasn’t long before Toby’s self-control crumbled, however. His fingers soon split open either side of his eyes, locking with hers with a mischievous grin before they trailed downwards, his heart rate steadily increasing. His fingers snapped shut once more as they caught sight of her hand moving against her lips, a gasp sounding from his own lips at the sight of the damp trickling from her thighs.
The groans that left her mouth pushed him to the edge, his hand falling from his eyes at last as the Gryffindor was spurred into action, pushing himself up on his knees to pull her small frame against his much larger one, sliding his legs between hers. Lips found her neck with hunger, sucking needily on the flesh as his hand slid down her arm, over the hand between her thighs, sliding his own fingers between her parted lips as his other hand plucked open the button of his school trousers. Deft fingers slid the zipper of his trousers down, his hand slipping inside his boxers as breathless pants left his lips.
“Ye’ bleedin’ minx.” The Gryffindor breathed, his forehead resting against hers as eyes, filled with warmth for his brunette beauty, locked with hers, lips tracing the slope of her nose. “It’s a bloody good job I love yer’ or I wouldn’t let ye’ anywhere near my crown jewels.” A raspy chuckle broke from his lips as his hand pushed further into her damp heat, bringing Eden up onto his hips as his arm slipped around her waist, snaking across her back to squeeze her hip.
His hand slipped free of her folds, pushing down against his own hips to slide them free of the material of his trousers. Soon those, along with his boxers, joined the pile of clothes strewn across the floor, Toby shivering as his bare skin met hers. “I do, though, y’know?” The boy whispered, a raw innocence to his actions as he brushed a curl behind her ears, his hand caressing her side. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I don’t care about what happens, or if all the odds are against us. And I know I should probably be freakin’ out about the fact that I’m about to loose me’ bloody cherry but I can’t focus on that, because you’re with me, in my arms, shakin’ that cute little arse in me’ face, and that’s all that matters. I don’t want anyone else, Edie. Or anything else.”
Toby’s kiss was soft, gentle, but needy, his lips locking with her own before he drew their mouths open, feeling the warmth of her breath in his throat. His tongue teased her own, teeth pulling lightly at her lips, before he pulled away from the kiss, his fingers intertwining with hers. Strong arms tightened around her waist, shifting her position against his hips as his hips rolled forward, the tip of his length skirting his entrance. His breath hitched, hand squeezing hers, a mix of adrenaline and nervous anticipation building within him. One look in her emerald hues confirmed she was ready -- more than ready. His eyes fluttered shut, chest tightening, and then his hips rolled into hers.
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