#Sorry I shagged your father but you can date my brother if you want

[a-map-of-gays]

The danbury-ledger dynamic truly is the most situationship of all time

[peakywitch]

Behind the Garrison, by the Canal - Finn Shelby

Word count: 1630

Warning: mention about sex and semi-nudity (?)

A/N: i wrote it in spanish and translated it, apologies if you see any mistake! 

gif: @el-cheung​

A soft knock on the door interrupted (Y/N) from his reading. She looked up curiously from her book, not knowing who it might be.

Her mother? She was upstairs sleeping with the baby.

Her father? He was working.

Her older brother? He was meeting his fiancé’s parents.

Finn? No, he was at a family meeting, it couldn't be him. Plus, they never met each other during the day.

Y/N got up from the uncomfortable purple sofa, going to the door. She tried to peek through the small window to find out who it was. Suit, a peaked hat, a cigar. A Blinder.

Sh took a deep breath, had her brother gotten into trouble? Having exhaled, she opened the door, showing Finn.

"Finn?" she asked curious and somewhat nervous, they were only supposed to see each other half past eight, behind the Garrison, by the canal.

If her father came earlier from work, she was dead.

"Hey, Y/N." he smiled, as he spoke fast.

"I know we said to meet in a few hours, but since I have the afternoon free, I thought about asking you if...you could...lend me another book?" the nervous smile was still there.

The young girl was teaching the younger Shelby how to read, and since he learned, he read every book there was and to be.

Pride and Prejudice? Finished in 72 hours.

Little women? One week.

Hell, he'd even read the bible and could recite some verses from memory.

On one occasion, Finn told Y/N that he had corrected Isaiah, about the bible:

"I will fear no evil!" Isaiah said humorously, as he answered Arthur about whether he was afraid on one of those many illegal occasions. “Jesus said it, you know, Arthur? And I…” Finn cut him off, correcting him.

"Isaiah, that’s Psalm 23:4." Finn said casually, as he finished his cigarette.

Arthur, John, and Isaiah burst into laughter, of course after trying to figure out how Finnny Boy knew so much about God.

"Sure, Finn. Give me a moment." Y/N closed the door, took the Illustrated edition of Alice in Wonderland that he was reading, took out the bookmark, and returned to the door. She opened it and Finn was still wearing that nervous smile.

"Here it is, have fun with Alice, the Queen and the Mad Hatter, Finn." Y/N's smile made Finn's hand shake.

A few weeks ago, the boy had killed a man. His hand did not tremble, his head did not hesitate. But, oh shit, his heart exploded in anger that night, at home. Finn would never admit it, but it scared him to grow up and be as savagely violent as Arthur, or as distant as Tommy. Fear and anxiety were eating him alive, until he realized that his hand was shaking when she smiled at him.

“Thank you, beautiful." He smiled, as he exchanged the borrowed copy of Romeo and Juliet for that copy of Alice. After a wink and a "see you later" he walked away.

With a stomach full of butterflies, Y/N closed the door.

"Hello friend," she whispered to the book. "Have they treated you well?"

Y/N sat down on the couch again, going over the sentences she had marked with her black pen for the umpteenth time. As she was fanning through the pages, a piece of paper fell on her legs. Curious, she took it in her hands and saw Finn's handwriting. She knew it was his, she had taught him to write in italics. Also, she would recognize that misaligned handwriting and that soft stroke anywhere.

“I thought I knew love until your beauty seduced my eyes. Page 118 –Finn”

She smiled.

After greeting her father who had just arrived from work, Y/N commented that she would go to sleep and skip supper. The clock in her room read half past seven in the afternoon, which gave the signal to Y/N to escape through her window.

She wrapped herself up, looked at herself in the small mirror on her wall, and went out the window. Although the house had two stories, Y/N's room was downstairs, making it easier for her to get out the window.

Legs out, then the torso, the arms, and finally the head. Once outside, she adjusted her hair and began her short walk.

Y/N lived just five minutes from the Garrison and should meet Finn in an hour. But she wanted to stop by the Garrison to say hi to Harry. Also, she was to bring him a shirt that her mother had fixed for him.

As she thought of Finn, the five minutes turned into two seconds, and Y/N found herself in front of the pub. It was Friday, so it was full of men with inhuman amounts of alcohol in their blood. She took a deep breath and opened both doors, the smoke from so much cigarette making her dizzy.

She walked over to the bar and saw Harry serving a scotch. Her nose narrowed, remembering that awful taste she'd tasted with Finn.

"It's horrible," Finn had said, "I don't know why my brothers drink this shit."

"Hello Y/N" Harry greeted, anyone could hear her mother's Irish accent on him.

"Hi Harry, I bring you your shirt. Mom thanks you for making her focus on something other than the baby."

They both laughed, as Y/N handed him the bag. After a casual chat, some questions about her father, her new brother and her mother, they said goodbye. Y/N passed by the private booth, but didn't hear a soul. Maybe Finn was already by the river.

It was a matter of seconds before she reached the river, in their usual spot. She sat on a rock and waited.

Two, five, ten, fifteen, thirty minutes.

It was ten past eight, maybe quarter past eight.

Finn wasn't coming, and Y/N was starting to get scared. It was late, she shouldn't be alone. It was eight thirty, she had waited fifteen more minutes.

"God, don't let anything bad happen, please” Y/N said between prayers.

When she got up, she started walking in the direction of his house. To Finn's house. She was sure he was reading. She headed to Finn's house mainly because she was only a few feet away from it and also because she wanted to know if he was okay.

When she arrived and saw the light on, she was relieved. She knocked on the door, she would ask him to accompany her home.

"I’m going!" Finn yelled, there was a laugh and a slim, semi-naked woman who was wearing a man's shirt opened the door, still laughing.

"Lydia I told you that..." Finn's laughter stopped "Oh bloody hell."

Finn had come up behind Lydia, shirtless and his suspenders dangling at his sides.

The floor shook under Y/N's feet. The rest was blurry, for both of them. Finn remembered the cold hitting his shirtless chest as he yelled Y/N's name all over Watery Lane and Saint Mary's Street, asking for forgiveness and for her to listen to him. Y/N remembered the knot in her belly, hearing nothing except her breaths and feeling how Finn's words he had written burned her heart. Her heart, for the first time, was breaking along with the trust she had in him. Because she thought he was good, she believed that he loved her and that he wouldn't be fooling around with others after all those kisses and secret talks on the river.

When she got to the door of her house, Y/N was trying to open it. But the key was on the other side.

"Can you hear me for a damn moment!?" Finn yelled, coming to her side. He took the sad girl by the arm and turned her around.

"Do not touch me! Don't ever touch me again in your fucking life, Finn Shelby!" she bellowed, tears spilling from her eyes.

"Okay." he quickly separated from her, releasing her “But you have to listen to me. I…She…” his voice trembled.

"Did you sleep with her, Finn?" Y/N whispered.

"No...I..." the boy nervously combed his hair as he looked at the floor, Y/N knew instantly that he was lying.

"You had sex with her?!" Y/N let out in a strangled cry, asking but claiming at the same time. Her angry eyes were focused on Finn's, who were scared "And don't lie to me, please don't lie to me."

"Yes."

Y/N’s throat went dry, while her heart kept on breaking.

"Since when?"

"Five months now."

"Oh..." Y/N let out bitterly, then laugh "You are so afraid of looking like your brothers that you forget a detail: You are them, you always were and always will be."

“Don't tell me that, Y/N. You can't tell me that…” Finn cried.

"Yes, I fuckin’ can. You could shag her, I can tell you the truth. I'm not lying to you, Finn. I never lied to you."

“Do you remember two weeks ago, on the river? You said…” Y/N interrupted him.

“I said how I felt, Finn. Now I feel so much, so much pain and hate that I wish I had never told you."

Finn's face was a complete puzzle.

The door slammed open, appearing Y/N's older brother.

"Bye, Finn."

She entered the house, and headed straight for her room, ignoring her brother's whispers about how she should never have gotten together with Shelby. That they do this, they do that.

“Y/N! I am talking to you!" Peter said, entering his little sister's room.

"Peter, stop it, ok?" exploded Y/N “I know I didn't have to hang out with the Shelby family. But you're also dating a stupid woman and nobody tells you anything! "

Peter backed away, shocked.

“No… Peter, sorry. Wendy is…"

“Save it, Y/N. I opened the door for you, so that Dad wouldn’t kill the Shelby himself. But first thing tomorrow morning, they want you down. Both of them."

And just like that, Peter left the room, leaving Y/N in a mess and crying.

[super-unpredictable98]

Sex Ed

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Pairing: Klaus x Vicky (The Eighth Child’ Verse - OC) Word Count: 1,4k Warning: Strong language, very mild sexual content.

(Masterlist)

"Don't look now," Klaus smiled mischievously. "But there's a very cute boy coming over here, and he looks straight."

"Oh..." I jumped on my seat. "Does he look like a surfer?"

"Yeah."

"It's Michael," I mumbled.

Michael was one of my classmates, he was fairly attractive with blonde hair in a shag haircut, hazel eyes, plump lips. He would sit by me sometimes, we would talk and he was a really nice guy.

Of course I always ended up comparing him to Klaus and he always ended up losing, but at the time I was pretty sure I was a freak for even thinking of my brother in that way.

I know we were not actually related and we grew up more like a couple of best friends or teammates than siblings, but in everyone's eyes, especially our father's, we were brother and sister.

"Hey, Vicky," Michael became slightly disappointed when he saw Klaus by my side holding my hand. "Sorry if I'm interrupting your date..."

"Hi, I don't believe we've met," Klaus smiled. "I'm Vicky's brother, Klaus."

"Ah, hey, man," Michael smiled. "I just wanted to ask if you have yesterday's product management notes? I got a little bit distracted and missed a few slides."

"Sure," I looked through my backpack and gave him my notebook. here.

"Thanks..." he nodded. "Also, I was wondering if you're doing anything this  Friday?"

"I was actually gonna watch Mamma Mia with my bro..."

"No," Klaus cut me off. "She's not doing anything, totally free."

"Looks like it," I pressed my lips together.

"Cool, would you want to watch a movie with me or something? We could grab dinner after if you'd like."

"Um..." I looked at Klaus who widened his eyes at me and gave me a very urgent nod. "Yeah, why not?"

"Alright, pick you up at seven?"

"It's a date," I agreed hesitantly.

"See you then," he waved as he walked away.

I waved back with an uncomfortable smile. Klaus waited until Michael was out of sight and looked at me with the biggest grin on his face. It hurt me a little that he was so ok with me going out with a guy, but he was just more conformed than me, he always has been, not to mention his poly tendencies, he just wanted me to be happy.

"You're going on your first date!" Klaus shook me by the shoulders.  "And the guy looks just like Zac Efron!"

For the rest of the week, Klaus wouldn't shut up about the date, he was way more excited than I was. I wasn't mad at the idea of going out with Michael, I did somewhat have a crush on him and we had been flirting back and forth for a few months, but I was very scared. I was 19, had only kissed one guy in my life on a spin the bottle game (which sucked), so needless to say I was still a virgin who never dated anyone.

When the day finally came, Klaus started preparing me as soon as I arrived from school. I walked into our living room and he was waiting for me on the couch with a pack of condoms.

"Hey, Schatzi," he smiled. "Come here."

I sat by him, my face burning red, I didn't want to connect sex with Klaus in my head, it was bad enough when it happened in my dreams and I woke up feeling guilty as all hell. I didn't want to take the risk of my mind wandering and thinking something that I deemed wrong.

"So, I guess you've decided that I have sex on the first date..."

"I mean, you don't have to, but you know," he shrugged. "Just in case things get heated you should take some with you, better safe than sorry. Dad never really gave you 'the talk', and mom was very technical about it."

"Did you steal this?"

"Does it matter? I can teach you how to put it on with your mouth if you want."

"I think I'll pass," I hid my face behind my hands.

"Oh come on, I wanna help you! I know how frightened you are of sex, and it's really not a big deal as long as you’re safe."

"Alright, share your wisdom with me," I leaned back, defeated.

That afternoon, Klaus explained everything he knew about sex, and that is A LOT, like really... I have no idea how I didn't just run away to hide as I heard those explicit tips.

Even as I was picking my outfit, he was still spilling his knowledge onto me. He was laying on his stomach as I desperately tried to find an outfit that made me look nice.

"Don't be scared to tell him what you like, he's there to please you too. I love when girls tell me what they like, it's the biggest turn-on because then I can do it and they feel good, which makes me feel good. With men I never have to ask, but with girls..."

"I don't even know what I like."

"I do, would you like me to teach him a little German?" Klaus joked.

"Shut up..." I shook my head embarrassed.

"This one," Klaus jumped when I touched a sundress that looked a bit like the iconic one from '13 Going on 30'.

"No, Klausie, it's too short."

"Trust me," he flashed me a wicked grin. "You have those beautiful legs for a reason, and your tits look so amazing in this dress."

I nearly choked with the comment, but it did raise my self-esteem enough to try the dress on. Once I did, Klaus stood behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder as I looked in the mirror.

"It does look good..."

"See? I told you" he wrapped his arms around me. "But it doesn't work with a bra."

Klaus unhooked my bra with one hand in the quickest motion I've ever seen. I  turned to him agape:

"Wow," I pulled it off and threw it away.

"It's a gift" he bit his lip with a smug grin. "Now turn around, let me do your makeup, Schnucki."

"Are you sure? You have a pretty heavy hand..."

"Don't worry, I'll make you look even sexier."

That night I found out that Klaus does his eyeliner all smudged by choice, he's  actually great at doing makeup! I have done that for him millions of times, but he had never done it for me, I was very pleasantly surprised with the result.

"This is incredi... Shit!" I mumbled as I heard a knock on the door.

"Oooo, your sexy surfer is here!"

I sighed as I opened the door. Michael's face lit up when he saw me, it was actually kinda cute...

"You look gorgeous," he took my hand.

"Thanks, you too..." I was starting to second guess my decision to go out with him, it was way too scary.

"You better take care of her, or else..." Klaus tried to sound threatening, but he just looked like a crazy person.

"I'll do my best," Michael nodded.

——————————————————

The date wasn't bad, it wasn't good either. He was handsome, sure, but not nearly as handsome as Klaus or funny, or charming, or nice... At that time I thought that was the best I could get. I came home feeling a mixture of sadness and shame.

It was about four in the morning, so I quietly took off my clothes, put on the first shirt I found, and wiped my makeup off before joining Klaus in bed, doing my best not to wake him up.

"So, how was it?" his voice nearly made me scream.

"Klaus! I thought you were asleep."

"I tried, but I couldn't sleep without knowing you're home safe," he turned to me, enrapturing me with his long arms. "Tell me, how was it with him?"

"It was okay."

"Just okay?"

"Yeah... I'm no longer a virgin, so there's that."

"What?" Klaus screamed. "That's a pretty big fucking deal!"

"No, it's really not, I don't feel any different..."

"My Schnucki popped her cherry!" he squeezed me. "Tell me everything."

"There's not much to tell, Klausie."

"Oh, then he must be shit in bed."

"It wasn't horrible."

"That's never a good thing to say after sex," he chuckled. "But don't worry, lovely, it will get better, I promise you."

"How can you know?"

"I have a feeling..."

Tag List: @elliethesuperfruitlover @misskittysmagicportal @firstpersonnarrator @nightingale-rose

[the-drakeboys]

Come Back to Me - Pt. 1

Summary: For the first time in years, Sam and Nate Drake will be going on a perilous, high-risk adventure without you by their side - a three-day stint in a Panamanian prison. They’re not just the guys you’ve partnered with and been a medic for on dozens of insane jobs over the last few years - Nate has become one of your closest friends, and Sam… well, Samuel Drake is the love of your life. 

Sam just wants to reassure you - everything is going to be perfectly fine. 

It’s a simple job, after all. 

Pairing: Sam Drake x Reader

Word Count: 3,475

Warnings: Just… all of the fluff. So much fluff.

A/N: My first fic in a long time! I sincerely hope you enjoy. This’ll be a 3- or 4-part series… Just can’t get enough of Sam. He’s such a complex character, and I absolutely love him. Thanks so much for reading!

---

"I just don't see why we can't come up with something." Pacing the floor with your hands on your hips, you had both Drake brothers watching you with uncertain eyes. The crimson shag carpeting beneath your feet squished between your toes, and your eyes caught the cryptic motel art hanging on the far wall. "There must be... I don't know. Something." 

"We've been over this three hundred times, y/n. It's not gonna work," Nate sighed, rubbing his hands down over his face. You slowed to a stop behind Sam's chair and set your hand on the back of it. You idly thought about how badly you needed to do a load of laundry - his t-shirt felt utterly grimy against the side of your thumb. "But the boat is an important piece of the puzzle. Immensely important. In fact, I would say it's the most important-" 

"Okay, alright, she gets it," Sam waved off his brother's muttering, glancing up at you over his shoulder. "Darlin', we'll be fine. I promise you. It's a simple plan, in and out. That's it." You stared down at him, taken by the earnest look in his eyes. He meant it; he was confident everything would be completely fine. 

And that's what scared you. 

"Sam..." you started, your mouth opening and closing uselessly. He never left your gaze, managing a small, reassuring smile in the corner of his lips. You sighed, setting your hand softly onto his cheek. He turned his head and kissed your palm, hoping that your jittery nerves would be soothed by it. You felt yourself sink, knowing they were right. "Just... just go over the plan for me one more time. Okay?" 

"Jesus, y/n..." Nate's patience was wearing thin. You sat yourself down in the chair between them, trying to settle yourself. 

"Please. Just humor me,” you pressed. The younger Drake softened at the sound of your voice and gave, clearing his throat and starting up on the plan for the millionth time. 

"Uh... Yeah. Yeah, alright." You sunk back into the chair, feeling the weight of all your worry and stress press down into your shoulders. "So, obviously, we know that Avery and Burnes had a run-in at some point in the late 1690's, and Burnes eventually wound up on his crew, and was definitely present for the Gunsway heist. Then in 1696, he was captured and imprisoned for his crimes as a pirate..." Your eyes carefully followed as he gestured across maps, notes, and letters, recounting all the details for you from start to finish, feeling your heart crumple up as he returned to the part of the plan that had remained a sticking point for you for four solid months.

The jail. 

"...so once we get whatever Burnes left behind, and assuming there aren't any hiccups or anything, we just follow Rafe's lead and head to the boat." 

"And that's where you come in," Sam murmured. "Rafe's guy will drive the boat, and you'll be there to patch us up. Y'know, if... we need it." 

Dazed and quiet, you just nodded, staring at the blueprints of the jail in front of you. Eyeing the lines - all the cells, the maze-like array of boxes and hallways and tunnels. It'd be hell to get out of there on short notice. Sam raised a brow at you, taking in your slumped form and feeling the defeat that came off of you in waves. He reached over and rested a firm hand on your knee, forcing you to lock onto his eyes. "Baby," he started. "It's nothing. We do a job like this in our sleep. You know that. I promise this time next week, it'll be like it never happened. Just me and you, on the beach somewhere, drinkin' mojitos and dancin' in the sunset." 

You cleared your throat and sat up, sighing out a slow breath of air. "That's sweet," you spoke, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "But that's not what's bothering me." 

"...oh?" he mumbled as you leaned back from the kiss, sitting back in his chair and getting ready to listen. 

Nate took a swig of the luke warm beer that'd been sitting in front of him for over an hour; you hid a smile, pretending you didn't notice the grimace that crossed his face as he sat it back down. "Well... I mean, truthfully, besides the impossible exit strategy - or lack thereof, or the fact that I can’t be there - and yes, I get it, all male prison, yadda, yadda; or even the fact that the person your entire plan is dependent on is Rafe, with whom I wouldn't trust a pet rock, much less my life..." you trailed off, not noticing the look Nathan shot to his brother across the table and the narrowed eyes the elder sent right back, "it's mostly... Burnes. I mean, I hear you, Nate, I really do, a lead is a lead. But just… why Burnes?”

Nate cocked his head at you. “Whatta you mean?” 

You cleared your throat and carefully lifted the 300 year old letter from the table. “I mean… why Burnes? Theoretically, the Gunsway heist took place in ‘95, right? Avery dies four years later - and based on this one letter, we’re supposed to believe that Avery left his monumental treasure of gold and jewels, the culmination of his entire fantastic career as a pirate… to some inconsequential member of his crew who’d barely come aboard just before the heist?” 

A wave of depressed concern flooded both young men. "Well..." Sam started, sitting forward. "Look, it's..." 

You cut him off, “-and not to mention, why would he have wanted his son to ‘find his way in’ to a Panamanian jail? Is there no chance that it was forged by someone trying to lure the son in, maybe one of the captains in charge of capturing and hanging as many of the pirates from Avery’s crew as possible?” 

Nate grumbled under his breath and stood, going over to the mini fridge in the corner. He pulled a few cold beers from the tiny shelf and cracked them open.

You glanced over at Sam, immediately feeling guilt flood your veins at the disheartened expression on his face. “I’m… I’m sorry. I just… I don’t want you two risking so much on such a thin lead.” The brothers shared a look. 

Nate carefully sat down, sliding the two beers to both you and Sam across the cheap wooden table. He gently took the letter back from you and ran his eyes over it. 

“The thing is… you’re not wrong. Okay? It’s thin. It’s definitely thin. But… listen to this. ‘Though my regrets are many, know that I am at peace with my fate.’ He’s… He’s a father, giving peace of mind to his wife and son. Letting them know he’s ready for death. If it was one of the Viceroys, they wouldn’t want to imagine him having any sort of peace, and they certainly wouldn’t want the son to feel peaceful about it, either. They’d want him to feel urgency. To hurry to the jail. They’d give him some sort of date or timeline.” Nate’s passion was evident as he let the words roll off his tongue, and you couldn’t help how it made you smile, how much he reminded you of his brother. 

They both got that look in their eye when they talked about history; when they told the stories of people who’d lived and died so long ago. 

“And,” Sam chimed in, a glint in his eye as he spoke, “he doesn’t just say ‘treasure’. He describes it as ‘the riches of paradise’... That’s a pretty specific line, and given how religious Avery seems to have been... I mean, there are references to paradise all over Avery’s history, and the Spaniards wouldn’t have known that.” 

Okay. you thought. There’s no talking them out of this.

“C’mon… You know it’ll be fine… over before you know it. What’s the worst that could happen?” Sam nudged at your foot with his own, trying his hardest to make you smile.

Your eyes found their way to your overstuffed med pack, sitting fully stocked at the edge of your bed. You’d been there for them through more close calls and near-death experiences than you’d care to admit over the last three years, playing medic to their wild, reckless adventurers since the beginning. And now, without you being able to get into the prison with them, the mere thought of them having to make it in and out of that place without you by their side turned your stomach inside out. 

But they were right. This was the only lead you’d had for months… It was this, or back to square one. And with everything they’d been through, with how long they’d been after this treasure… That just wasn’t an option. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mumbled, “Can I at least stock you guys up with some gear, just in case?” 

A wide grin broke out over Sam’s face. “That’s my girl,” he laughed, reaching over and cupping your cheeks in his hands. “We’re gonna be fine,” he pressed a kiss to your lips, “More than fine, actually. We’ll be great.” He turned to his brother then, holding his beer out for a cheers. “We’re gettin’ close to this treasure, I can feel it.” 

You let out a soft giggle, rolling your eyes and lifting your own beer to theirs. Just before your bottle touched Sam’s, you pulled it back. “...Although…”

“...oh my god. What?” Nate huffed with a frustrated laugh.

“...What do I get out of bein’ so cool about this?” you grinned, lifting your feet up to rest on Sam’s lap. 

“What you get? You mean other than your share of a 400 million dollar treasure?” Nathan was beside himself at this point, finally relaxed but still in disbelief at your stubbornness. 

Sam was lost to the conversation, in an awe-filled haze as he watched you start haggling with his younger brother. He softly rested his free hand on your ankle, rubbing the skin there and listening to you throw out ideas - everything from them doing your laundry for a month to a three-day excursion to the Bahamas - and all he could think was just how goddamn lucky he’d gotten; he still couldn’t believe you were his.

“...okay, okay, no, I’ve got it,” you spoke, sure of yourself as a sly grin crossed your face. Nate raised a brow at you, playfully terrified of whatever was to come next.

“Oh god, what is it?” 

You sat forward, smirking at them both. “When you get back, you two finally tell me your last name.” 

“...y/n, the hell’re you talkin’ about?” the younger Drake seemed confused, but you saw right through both of them. 

“Yeah, c’mon. You know, your real last name.” They both immediately began stuttering their way through objections, but you weren’t having any of it. “C’mon, boys, how long did you think I was gonna buy that you just happened to be descendants of Sir Francis Drake? Really? You’re treasure hunters, for Christ’s sakes.” 

Your laughter carried through the thin motel walls, but Sam stayed on target, pressing his fingers lovingly into your ankle as he did, “No, no, Drake is a very proud, very meaningful family name. You’ll see, we’ll uhh… shit, I’ll show you my birth certificate if that makes you feel better.” 

Nate shot him a look that screamed ‘are you fuckin’ kidding?’, but it went unnoticed. There was a darkness in Sam’s eyes and a pang in your gut that told you to let this one go; there was much more to this story than he was ready to tell.

“...mhmm,” you grinned, playing it off and raising your beer once more. “So, uhh… my laundry for a month, then?” 

Nate let out a relieved laugh, glad the discussion was finally over. “Guess I can live with that. I figure it’s worth it for 400 million.”

 Over the clinking of bottles and excited murmurs of cheers, an atmosphere of adventure loomed. 

Sam was right. Everything would be… great. 

“Y’know, I was thinking about the guard that Rafe is paying to get us in, I mean, maybe we can buy him a fruit basket or somethin’ once it’s all done…” Nate began, “Could be a nice way to keep him from asking about what we’re doin’, I mean it could be pretty funny, here’s thirty grand and, y’know, some bananas and pomegranates…” You and Sam listened in amusement, nodding your heads as if any of what he was saying made sense. 

As the youngest Drake rambled on and on about fruit baskets and prison guards and how much of an asshole he knows Rafe to be, Sam found your eyes with his and held them there. A weight lived there between you both, a magnet pulling you to him. He took a swig of his beer, occasionally ‘mhm’ing for his little brother’s benefit; but you were all he was thinking about. A soft smile tugged at your lips, the coy look in your eye driving him crazy, making him struggle not to reach out and touch you. 

“Ahem,” Nate coughed, a brow raised at both of you. You mumbled a ‘hmm?’ at him, turning to face him. Sam didn’t move, gaze still set on you as if he was etching every curve of your face into his memory. 

“I’m uh… I’m gonna go see what’s goin’ on down at Tankhouse. I think it’s ladies night, or… somethin’.” You felt a warm blush come over your cheeks as he stood from the table.

“...you have fun with that, little brother.” Sam’s soft voice and sly, cheeky smile caused a flutter in your stomach, your foot gently kicking his side as you willed him to behave long enough for Nate to get out the door. 

“Sounds good, Nate,” you muttered through your smile, “We’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Night, guys,” he said with a playful roll of his eyes, shutting the door behind him. 

Sam set his beer down and reached over, turning the knobs on the old motel radio that sat against the wall. Old 60’s tunes began to play through the speakers, and he set it to a low volume before turning back to you. “C’mere,” he mumbled, his tone both husky and sweet as you obliged him. You moved to sit yourself across his lap, sighing happily as he brought you into his arms and tugged you close. He captured your lips with his in a slow, heated kiss, one that set you on fire and made your fingers curl around the fabric of his t-shirt. You sunk into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and smiling against his lips. “...what?” he chuckled, his eyes slowly peeling open. 

“Nothin’. Just… you taste… you taste like beer and..tacos.”

“M’not hearin’ a complaint…” 

“Shuddup,” you giggled, still tasting him on your tongue as you leaned back in his hold. There was a long quiet as he stared up at you, eyes lidded and hazy. You dragged your lips in a whisper against his, humming your words into them. “Mmmm, you are gonna miss meeeee…” 

He let out a pained laugh and buried his face in the crook of your neck, peppering soft kisses there. “Ooh, babygirl, you have no idea.” 

“Can you imagine me in prison, though?” you wondered aloud, lovingly threading your fingers through his long, auburn hair and smiling at the happy, peaceful hum it brought out of him.

“...ooooh, I sure can,” he teased, his fingers coming up to give your side a playful squeeze. 

“Oh, stop it,” you laughed, smacking his arm. 

“What? I’m serious. You all dressed up in the orange jumpsuit? Runnin’ the joint, callin’ the shots.” 

He leaned his head back, glancing up at you as you thought aloud, trying to hide your grin, “Y’know, you’re not wrong, I’d probably be some big shot… Get a bunch of tattoos, maybe start collecting teardrops…”

“Now that, that I would love to see,” he laughed, his hand sweetly resting on your thigh and his thumb swiping back and forth. “What about your right-hand man? Do I get a few teardrops, too?”

You cocked your head to the side in thought, twirling some of his hair around your fingers, “Hmm… No, I don’t think you’d be the teardrops type… Too obvious. You’d uhh… I could see you with some birds. Maybe down the side here…” You traced a finger down the side of his neck, feeling goosebumps rise in the wake of your touch. He closed his eyes then, drinking in the moment, loving every second of how it felt to have you in his arms. 

“Mmm… Mhm, I’ll have to do that… Maybe I’ll just get them on this trip. I’ll come back to you all tatted up, lookin’ large and in charge,” he chuckled, still distracted by your fingers running through his hair. 

A heavy quiet fell over both of you, the only sound in the room coming from the radio as oldies classics continued to play. You slowly pulled your fingers from his hair, cupping his face in your palms and meeting his eyes as he peeled them open. “You do that, Samuel Drake,” you whispered. “You come back to me.” 

The fear and stress that played over your face rocked something in him, and every bone in his body ached, knowing just how worried you’d be until he came back to you. 

And in that moment, something in him clicked; staring up at you, his heart racing, his entire body overflowing, he mumbled a single word. 

“Morgan.” 

Your brows furrowed with questions, your mouth opening to ask them, but stopping as realization overtook your face. He repeated it quietly, a shy, scared smile tugging at his lips. “Our name… it’s Morgan.” 

You couldn’t help the joy that poured onto your face, love stretching through you to your fingertips as you closed the small distance between you and met his lips with a full, passionate kiss. He wrapped himself around you, moving his lips with yours, falling harder with each passing moment and knowing in his gut that of all the people in the world to tell about who he really was, the only one that mattered was you. 

As you pulled back from the kiss, you could feel his heart thumping heavily away in his chest. He cleared his throat. This was hard for him; but for you, he would do anything. “When we were kids, I uhm…. There was this one night...” He looked shaken, and your chest ached at the sight. You could see him reliving whatever hell he and Nathan had gone through - you saw it right there in his eyes. “See, Nathan was just a little guy, and I... I almost-”

“-I love you,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his. An emotional smile came over him, grateful for the rescue. 

“Maybe I’ll uhh… maybe I’ll save that one for another time,” he mumbled, relief washing over him. 

“Sounds like a plan, handsome,” you promised. “Your secret’s safe with me.” 

There wasn’t an ounce of uncertainty in his eyes, his hand coming up to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Never doubted it, sweetheart,” he spoke. “In fact-” He cut himself off then, brows raising happily as the radio began to play his favorite - Sinatra. “Ooh… Oh, this is a good one.” He reached over, fingers nimbly turning the radio up as I’ve Got You Under My Skin floated out through the room. “...I have got you,” he started to sing, your heart instantly fluttering at the sound, “Under my skin… I’ve got you, deep in the heart of me…” 

Sam’s smile was infectious as he sang, shifting you in his lap so he carried you bridal style against his chest. “...I would sacrifice anything, come what might, for the sake, of holdin’ you near…” He stood then, eyes glued to yours, loving how you listened to him with that adoring gaze, your arms around his neck, swaying from side to side as he held you.

His face was so close to you, his lips hovering above yours, warm breath unfolding over your skin with every word of the song. “But each time I do, just the thought of you, makes me stop, before I begin…. ‘Cuz I’ve got you…” Before he could finish, you took those beautiful few words from his lips with a kiss; one that made you both forget the impending trip to Panama, the jail he’d be stuck in for three days without you, and his partnership with the ever questionable Rafe Adler. It was a kiss full of all the weight of knowing deep down in your gut that you were utterly, hopelessly.. helplessly in love. 

---

Next Chapter

Tags: [tagging the lovely folks who responded to my post re: who’d be interested in a Sam fic. :)]

@lucacangettathisass @ammaliatrici @cassieseraphim @slooshen @wings-0806 @talktothemoon2 @nachochitz @supernaturally-avenging-hannibal @aritipoupi @landoverthemountains @qwertybubbler @raeswrittenrecords @coolnerdreader @s4mdrake @go-youngtrash-things

GIF credit to @bizexualvampire, couldn’t get tumblr to link the gif from the post. thank you!

[ballumsecretvalentine]

A Little Bit of Spice

For @benthighway​! I loved reading your angst and AU’s so I am thrilled to gift you a Restaurant AU! Hope you enjoy and Happy Valentine’s Day!!!

“Hiya. Is Shirley around?”

“Who’s askin’?”

Ben fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m Ben, the new host.”

“Oh, yeah.” The woman’s entire demeanor changed. “Sorry ‘bout that. Sometimes some shady folk come ‘round looking for Shirl. Gotta man the door, y’know?”

Ben smiled with a nod, wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

“Well, anyway, I’m Whitney.” She offered her hand and a surprisingly firm handshake. “I run the front of the house here, so we’ll be working together a lot. You got a tour on your interview?”

Ben nodded again, taking off his coat and straightening his tie. When Shirley had told him a uniform would be required, he almost walked out. When he saw one of the waiters in the uniform looking hotter than Hades, he figured he could give it a go.

With Whitney giving him an obvious once over, he knew he fit the bill.

“I’ll show ya the break room. You get a locker an’ all that, then you can meet everyone quick. You’ll be shadowing me tonight. Gotta learn from the best an’ all.”

Ben laughed and followed her to the back. She seemed harmless enough, pretty girl but trying way too hard. He’d make his preferences clear in due time.

After hanging up his coat in a locker and going through the process of punching in and out for a shift, Whitney led the way into the kitchen, a swarm of hustling bodies and loud voices.

No competition for her, though.

“Hey, arseholes!”

The entire kitchen stilled and looked to them. Ben was immediately impressed. She commanded the room like the captain of ship. Only she did it with fake nails and four-inch heels.

“This ‘ere is Ben. New host. Be nice, introduce yourselves and don’t bloody drop anything tonight.” Whitney glared at a skinny, blonde guy who made a face and turned right around, getting back to work.

With that, the action returned, and Ben was practically chasing Whitney as she went back out front.

He was grateful when two hours later the doors opened, and the customers flooded in. He could only take so much talk of napkins and cutlery before he’d wanted to chop off his ear with a salad fork.

Most of the customers were lovely, sopping up his charm like sponges, but there were always those dining who thought they knew better than everyone else.

“This isn’t medium rare. It’s medium.”

Ben smiled even though it hurt his face to do so. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll take care of that for you.”

Practically stomping into the kitchen, teeth clenched tight with curses sliding through, he tossed the plate down in front of the nearest chef and said, “Gordon Ramsey out there says this isn’t medium rare.”

“Oh, alright. Not really Gordon Ramsey though, right? Think I’d piss myself if it was.”

Ben looked up and found himself speechless, a feat he didn’t think possible. The kindest smile and the most gentle set of eyes met his.

He cleared his throat and tried to get a grip. “Nah, mate. Not tonight.”

The other man laughed, prepping another steak. Without looking up from his workstation he asked, “are you the new guy Whit was yelling about?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Ben. Mitchell.”

“Callum Highway. I’d shake your hand but,” he held up a filthy, gloved hand.

Ben laughed and shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ben. Here ya go.” He slid a new steak across the counter. “May Gordon be kind.”

Ben’s heart raced as a blush crossed his cheeks against his will. “We can only hope.”

The rest of the evening went by without a hitch. The customers seemed to enjoy him, and he could tell Whitney was impressed with how quickly he fell into his new role. The few times Ben had to return to the kitchen, he went out of his way to catch a glimpse of Callum.

The man was tall, an immediate yes in Ben’s book, with those bright eyes and that wide smile. His shoulders were broad, and Ben’s thoughts had wandered to the nasty, wondering if that sturdy frame could hold his in those big paws he had.

Everyone seemed to like him, giving him pats on the shoulder and sharing jokes, so it was clear the man really was as nice as he seemed.

Determined to learn more about the cook, Ben said his goodbyes to Whitney and the other front-end staff and collected his stuff from the back. He popped into the kitchen, hoping to catch Callum before he left for the night but, stood at his station, Callum was laughing, with Whitney wiping something off his cheek, head tilted and smile full of flirtation.

Dammit, Ben thought. The radar must be broken.

******

The next night went much the same, Ben working on memorizing some of the menu items as well as the variety of wines the restaurant was trying to push. There was a noticeable lack of miserable customers which was wonderful, of course, except it meant he had no good reason to go into the kitchen. The pull to see Callum, to chat with him again, was something Ben wasn’t used to. It had been years since he’d felt more than just a surface attraction to another bloke.

This felt different.

And Callum was straight.

“Hey, Mitchell!”

Ben spun round at his name to a beaming Whitney. “Excellent job tonight. You’re catching on quick.”

He pulled on his coat and smiled in return. “Thanks. So far so good.”

“Listen, a bunch of us are goin’ for drinks. You interested?”

Ben thought about it, knew he needed to make some new mates here in Walford, but then he caught an eyeful of Callum, waiting patiently by the door, twiddling a hat between his hands. The idea of watching the two of them all over each other all night while the drinks flowed made him queasy.

With a sigh he said, “nah, I’m knackered. Next time though, yeah?”

Whitney nodded. “Suit yourself. Have a good night, then.”

He watched her leave, getting a small wave from Callum before the two of them headed out the door, Callum throwing his arm around Whitney’s shoulders as they left. Bopping his head lightly against his locker, he closed his eyes and groaned. First time attracted to someone again and it’s gotta be at work and with a bloke who don’t fancy men.

You pick ‘em well, Ben.

******

A few weeks later, after a few particularly boring days off, Ben found himself at the local, a nice little place everyone called the Vic. He was propping up the bar, feeling a bit sorry for himself, a damn bit lonely, too, when another pint appeared in front of him.

“I didn’t order another yet, mate.”

“S’alright,” the barkeep smiled. “From that one over there.” He tilted his head to the side and Ben melted where he sat when Callum lifted his glass.

Taking a deep breath, Ben stood with his fresh pint in hand and met Callum at one of the tables.

“Cheers for this.”

Callum shrugged. “No problem. It’s tough bein’ new ‘ere. Everyone already knows each other. Kinda tough to break the ice.”

Ben nodded, taking a sip and licking the foam off his lip. “You sound like you can relate.”

“Yeah, I only moved ‘ere ‘bout a year ago. My brother lives ‘ere and thought I’d like it.”

Ben took another drink, ignoring the heat choking him under his collar. Just being near Callum, listening to his voice and seeing the way his eyes sparkled up close was doing his head in.

“How’d you start cooking?”

Another big smile. “The army. I wasn’t in long, but I cooked quite a bit there; learned a lot.”

Eyebrows raised in surprise, Ben double checked. “Army?”

Callum had pride smeared across his mouth. “Yep. Not as soft as I look, y’know.”

Ben coughed on his drink, Callum giving him a few pats on the back in concern, missing what Ben felt was an obvious inuendo.

The rest of the evening was spent sharing stories and a few more drinks. Turned out they both came from fathers they’d prefer not to see again and mothers who tried their hardest but never seemed to get it right.

When Ben’s vision started getting blurry around the edges, the conversation shifted into talk of relationships. Callum seemed to shrug it off. “I’ve got, like, no experience, mate.”

Ben gave his shoulder a gentle shove. “Aw, c’mon. All them sights you seen in the army, never picked up a date or a shag?”

Callum laughed again, mouth open wide and so pure, Ben stared in awe. If Callum was being honest, which he seemed damn near incapable of being anything but, it just didn’t make sense. Why would no one pick him up? He was bloody gorgeous and sweet, tall and strong, and those hands—

“I can’t just hook up with someone. Not my style.”

Ben couldn’t help but wonder why Callum wasn’t telling him about Whitney. Objectively, even though he certainly wasn’t interested, she was sharp and beautiful, a good catch for any bloke.

“No one catching your eye at work, then?”

Callum’s head snapped with what Ben thought looked a bit like fear on his face. “I dunno what you mean.”

Ben shrugged, taking a drink and trying to steady his hands. He’s usually much smoother than this, easily chatting up any bloke he fancied, not afraid of an honest conversation.

But, fuck, Callum made him nervous.

He cleared his throat and put on his best teasing face. “Mate, everyone’s got a thing for someone they work with. That what it is? One of the waitresses catch your eye?”

He winked dramatically, trying desperately to downplay his nerves. It was like ripping off a plaster, right? Hearing Callum talking about Whitney directly would be better than drawing it out. That way he’d get over this ridiculous crush and move on.

“Nah. Most of them’s married, you know.”

With a roll of his eyes, Ben mumbled, “wouldn’t ‘ave stopped me.”

The look of judgement that was thrown his way made Ben want to disappear into the floor. He didn’t know why he said that, he’d never been with a married man before, and he could actually see Callum losing respect for him by the second.

“Is that your deal, Ben? Mess around with whoever you like? Don’t matter if they’ve got someone waiting at home?”

Scoffing, Ben finished his pint. “Yep. I like ‘em tall, dark and silent, Callum. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

It was definitely the booze brandishing some liquid courage, but Ben was fuming. He made one stupid, off handed comment and that was all it took to be judged once again. And why the hell wouldn’t Callum mention Whitney? What was the big bloody deal? He’d been at the restaurant less than a week and could name a handful of people screwing around. What made them special?

He threw a bunch of cash on the table, not bothering to count it, and headed out into the cold January night. All he’d wanted was a quiet drink. A mate or two. A job. A fresh start.

But then Callum bloody Highway had to muck it all up.

******

When the hangover started fading the next day, Ben seriously debated calling in. He wasn’t a coward; he’d always faced up to his shit in the past. Callum, though, made him feel…vulnerable.

He hated it.

Ultimately, his brain voted in favor of a paycheck so he forced his body up, took the longest, hottest shower he could handle. Feeling close to human again, he got himself dressed and picked a pair of too tight trousers to go with his uniform. He’d be worried about ripping ‘em all night but he’d look damn good doing it.

Feigning confidence and nonchalance, he moved through his shift like a man with no worries, no concerns. But all night he kept an eye on Callum and could have sworn Callum was watching him in return.

As the last of the customers were finishing up, Ben used the quiet to debate his next move. Something was sitting uncomfortably in his gut, churning and tossing with the idea of Callum thinking less of him, especially over some nonsense comment. He could try pretending it never happened, picking up a conversation like they never stopped speaking. Or, and this would be horribly unpleasant, he could just be honest.

I’ve got a crush and it made me word vomit absolute bullshit and I’m sorry.

Shockingly, he decided the truth was the only safe way to go. They’d worked together for a bit now and, if Callum was weird after the confession, they didn’t have to see each other that often anyway. Plus, Ben reasoned, Callum was too nice to be that petty. He pictured the chef now, smiling and shaking his head at Ben’s stupidity, laughing it off.

Decision made, Ben headed into the kitchen, ready to confess.

Regretting it instantly, Ben stood frozen with his hand holding open the swinging door as he watched Callum holding Whitney close to his chest, lips on hers and eyes closed tight.

Feeling lightheaded, he put too much weight on the door, making it bang into the wall behind it. Whitney and Callum jumped apart, both with surprise on their faces. Ben scoffed, confused as to why two people going at it in the wide open would be shocked when someone walked in.

“Ben, it’s not what it looks like, okay?” Whitney wiped the back of her mouth with her perfectly manicured hand and moved away from Callum who looked about a minute away from passing out.

Ben just shook his head and headed to the break room, thoughts of the Albert and a warm body for a distraction running through his head. He stared at Callum, looking small and blushing the color of a rose, when he said, “don’t worry about it. Everyone’s got a thing for someone they work with, right?”

He bit his lip, willing the embarrassment and disappointment away. He threw on his coat and called a cab. There were plenty of fish in the damn sea.

******

As soon as he sat down with a pint, it was like moths to a flame. One after another, blokes of all shapes and sizes came to chat him up. It definitely helped build the ego back up, but he cursed himself as each one did nothing to light that spark.

They were all too short or way too tall. Too arrogant or too quiet. They tried too hard to make him laugh or put on moves that had him grimacing into his drink.

A few hours later, he was well drunk and thinking about his bed. He felt old and ridiculous then, sat in a bar with music blaring and lights flashing, blokes throwing themselves at him left, right and center, but he’s daydreaming about sweatpants and warm blankets and soft pillows.

Oh, and of course the man with the most genuine laugh, and thoughtful eyes, most stunning smile.

Ben rubbed his face, willing images of Callum away with the pressure, and signaled to the bartender for the tab.

“Leaving already?”

He tensed, concerned he’d had so much to drink he was hallucinating that voice in a gay bar.

Even in the dim light, Callum was beautiful.

Ben let out a breath and stared blankly behind the bar, trying and failing to sober up. “What are you doing here?”

He saw Callum’s shoulders rise and fall from the corner of his eye. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Smiling at the bartender, Ben signed for his bill and turned in his seat. “Don’t bullshit me. I’m not gonna say anything about you and Whitney, alright? What you do is your business.”

Callum shook his head but Ben was out of his seat and calling a taxi before he could say anything. Outside, his breath moved in a cloud in front of his face and he buttoned up his coat. He would freeze in this weather but there was no way he could sit next to Callum for another second.

“Hey.”

Ben groaned, frustration overcoming his buzz.

“What, Callum? What?”

“You got it wrong, okay? What you saw today, at work, it-it wasn’t what it looked like.”

Ben made a face. “Yeah, Whitney already said that. I’m sure I just got confused. I mean, that’s how I say goodbye to folks. With my tongue.”

Callum threw his head back with a sound that came out like a growl. “That’s not what I mean! God, Ben, what is your problem?”

“I liked ya!”

Ben’s confession hung in the air, stuck between the two of them. His chest felt tight and his eyes stung, a sensation he refused to allow to win.

He turned, looking up the street and praying to the universe for his cab to suddenly appear. He’d give it just another minute or so before he’d be walking home. Maybe he’d get lucky and the bloody cab would just run him over.

“I-I don’t understand.”

Laughing, Ben met Callum’s eye. “I’m gay, Callum. And I like ya. Sorry I’m not interested in seeing you with other people.”

Huffing, he started to move, feet going numb and hands burning from the cold. Ben turned his collar up and dug his hands deep into his pockets.

He heard feet on the pavement jogging to catch up. “But, the other night. You were talking about—”

“Jesus, Callum!” He spun around so quickly Callum stumbled over his own feet, giving Ben a wide berth. “I just wanted you to keep talking. And we were drinking. And you make me bloody stupid! I’ve never been with a married man before, it just came out. But you shut down, judging me, making me feel—”

“I wasn’t judging!”

Ben scoffed and started walking again.

“Ben, wait!”

“I’ll see ya at work, Callum.” He turned back, walking backwards up the street. “And, no worries. Your secret’s safe with me!”

If he spent that night shivering alone in his bed, holding a pillow tight and feeling completely empty, it was no one’s business.  

******

Ben woke the next day with puffy eyes and a sore throat to discover, in horror, that it was Valentine’s Day. He’d barely slept at all, embarrassment and regret running through his mind all night. He downed a glass of water with a slice of dry toast while planning the phone call to play hooky from work when the bell rang.

On the other side of the door sat the largest stuffed bear Ben had ever seen holding a single red rose. He looked up and down the street, forgetting in his confusion he was in nothing but his underwear, searching for whoever dropped the stupid thing off at the wrong address. When no one was in sight, he groaned and mumbled to himself about inept delivery drivers as he hauled the brown bear into his flat.

With the distraction of the bear, Ben had lost track of time and found it was too late to call out of his shift. He showered quickly and threw on what he hoped were some clean clothes. As he headed out the door, a tag hanging from the bear’s big ear caught his eye; he hadn’t seen it earlier. Flipping it over he read:

Ben,

I hope this is a Valentine’s Day you won’t forget.

Your Secret Admirer

He froze, excitement and nerves churning in his gut. Was this real? Was someone messing with him? Who the hell would take the time to send something like this? And to him, no less.

Yanking the tag off the animal, Ben read it once more before shoving it in his pocket. He’d worry about it all later.

******

The restaurant was absolutely slammed that night, the holiday filling their patrons with romance and generosity. Ben found himself forgetting about the tag in his pocket and focusing on the money filling them instead.

On his break, he popped into his locker and almost got knocked out when something shiny, covered in cellophane fell out. He stared at the offending object, a red, heart shaped box, and looked around the room, starting to get worried he was being pranked.

Carefully, he picked it up and peeled away the wrapper. Inside, were a handful of fancy and, he learned later, delicious chocolate truffles. Inside the cover of the box was a scribbled note.

Ben,

A little pre-dinner snack. Don’t work too hard tonight.

Your Secret Admirer

His heart raced and his cheeks flushed. Pre-dinner snack? Like, a date? Or was it just that this person knew he’d be opening the gift before he ate?

Again, he looked around the space. The bear could have been ignored but now he was definitely getting curious. As he went back onto the floor, he looked at each of his co-workers in a different light. He realized he hadn’t made his preferences known to everyone so there was a good chance he might actually be hurting someone’s feelings tonight and a disaster would ensue.

No one seemed to be looking at him any differently, though. Lee gave him a polite nod and Mick asked if he had any plans for the night of romance. He knew Whitney and Callum were out of the running and annoyed himself briefly with visions of their sexy Valentine’s night. The rest of the kitchen and wait staff were nice but no one stuck out; no one had blatantly flirted.

With a sigh, Ben decided he was just being pranked, give the new guy a hard time kind of thing. No one knew him well enough to like him let alone admirer him. He’d grab his stuff as soon as his shift was over, stop and get a bottle of something nice for himself and then head home. Maybe watch a slasher film or something.

The night finally came to an end, the love in the air eventually becoming too overwhelming for Ben to stomach. He stuck to his plan, making a beeline for his coat and heading out the back door. What greeted him outside stopped him dead in his tracks.

Callum stood in front of him, nervous smile on his face and a large bouquet of flowers in his hands. Exhausted and so disappointed, Ben could only offer a nod. “Have a good night, mate. She’ll love ‘em.”

Before he could walk away, a large hand turned him around and roses were being shoved under his nose. “For you, Ben.”

In slow motion, with a pitiful expression on his face, Ben took hold of the flowers and looked at Callum. “I don’t get it.”

Callum laughed and shook his head. “We have to start over, Ben. I’ve messed this up since day one but it’s Valentine’s, so I figured I’d just go for it.”

With a shake of his head Ben asked, “go for what?”

“You can be so thick. You, ya idiot.”

In his confusion, Ben tried giving the flowers back. “But you’re with Whitney.”

Callum stepped forward, gently pushing the flowers back into Ben’s chest. “You saw me panic, Ben. Whitney and Lee have been dating for months now.”

“Okay, remember when you called me thick?”

With a laugh that sent a shiver through Ben, he explained. “I’ve been thinking that I’m, well, not exactly straight, for a while now but no one was catching my eye enough to test that theory, ya know? Then you walked in the kitchen on your first night and it was like a switch went off. Yep, I’m gay.”

They both laughed and Ben found himself relaxing, allowing himself to hope this was all real. “But that scared me. And then you were so, I dunno, bold? When we had drinks that night, remember? And I just felt unsure. So the next day, Whit was talking to me and being real nice, she’s one of my best friends, and I kissed her like the moron I am. You just ‘appened to walk in before she could give me a slap.”

“You know I got blasted that night at the Vic ‘cause I convinced myself you two were together.”

“What?”

Ben bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah. I figured you two were together and I didn’t stand a chance, so I drank too much and the muck started fallin’ outta my mouth.”

They stood together in the dark alley sharing breath and laughs for a few minutes. Eventually Ben looked at his hands, clenched tightly around the first flowers he’d ever received, and wondered what was next.

“Ben?”

He looked up and met Callum’s beautiful, blue eyes.

“Hmm?”

“I’m gay.”

Ben laughed again. “Okay.”

“And I like ya.”

Wrapping his arms around Callum’s waist, Ben moved in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, still in complete disbelief this was actually happening. With foreheads resting against one another and lips turned up in matching grins, Ben whispered, “I like ya, too.”

With a satisfied sigh, Callum stood tall and offered his hand to Ben. “I thought I’d be crazy and made us reservations at that Italian place around the corner.”

“Whoa, big man. Very bold of ya,” Ben teased with eyebrow raised.

Callum leaned down and kissed Ben once again, gentle and soft and filled with the promise of so much more.

“C’mon, let’s get this date started.”

Ben smiled, pulling Callum in close by the waist and melting into the strong arm thrown over his shoulders, flowers swinging happily by his side.

“Let’s.”

[sugdenlovesdingle]

robron (possibly post prison): “You’re shaking.”

sorry not post prison

have some teen AU with Jack

Set in the same universe as this - sorry teen AU anon, I cheated a little.

—

“This is the best day off I’ve had in a long time.” Robert smiled.

The weather was nice, their history teacher was sick so class got cancelled, and he’d just spent the better part of an afternoon lying in the grass and kissing Aaron in the sunshine.

“When you said come back to mine so we can hang out on the farm, I didn’t think this is what you had in mind.” Aaron commented.

“Are you complaining? Would you rather muck out stables? Work in the barn?”

“Well… there are interesting things you can do in barns… all that hay.”

“Ah so that’s why you’re here.” Robert grinned, propping himself up on his elbows. “You just want to roll around in the hay.”

“Isn’t that the only reason anyone ever dates a farm boy?” Aaron grinned back and leaned in for another kiss.

“Oh for god’s sake is this charade still going on?” Jack’s voice boomed across the field and snapped the two boys out of their loved up haze. “Every time I turn around he’s there.” he motioned at Aaron as they both sat up.

“So what?” Robert dared him. “Katie Addyman might as well move in, she’s here that often. But you never say anything about that.”

“That’s different.”

“How? Because she’s a girl?”

“Because she and Andy don’t throw it in my face all the time.”

“Really?” Robert stood up. “She spends the night and you won’t even let Aaron stay for tea.”

“Katie is a nice girl.” Jack settled on. “She’s a good influence on Andy. Not some criminal in training.”

“What?! That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about!” Robert yelled, getting angry.

“I’ve heard the stories. It’s no wonder he’s living with Paddy now. His own mother couldn’t handle him.”

“Since when do you listen to gossip, dad?” Robert asked.

“It’s not gossip when Chas herself told me.”

“So you can talk about us behind our backs with Aaron’s mum but you can’t accept him as my boyfriend?”

Robert was getting angrier by the minute, gearing up for a full on fight with his father.

“Rob… it’s ok… just leave it…” Aaron had gotten up too and grabbed Robert’s arm to get him to focus on him instead of Jack. “It’s ok. I should go. I promised Rhona I’d watch Leo for a bit this afternoon anyway.”

“You don’t have to go because of him.”

“I’m not, I promise. I’ll text you later ok?” Aaron said and turned to leave but Robert stopped him and pulled him into a kiss.

Partly because he wanted to say goodbye to Aaron properly, partly because he wanted to piss off Jack some more.

“Later…” He promised Aaron before he left.

“Are you done with your little performance now?”

“Performance?” Robert felt his anger rise again. Yes they might have started out as a way to wind up Jack, but these days he and Aaron were the real deal. “Like Andy and Katie you mean? The two of them acting like the perfect couple when all they do is cheat on each other.”

“Don’t make things up to make your brother look bad.” Jack said, dismissing him and walking away to the barn.

“I’m not making things up, dad. Everyone at school knows Andy shagged Debbie Dingle in the toilets at the Christmas gala. And Katie tried it on with me! But I turned her down because I have a boyfriend!”

“Will you keep your voice down?” Jack hissed. “It’s bad enough that you’re flaunting your little act all over the village, I don’t need the rest of Yorkshire to hear it.”

Robert laughed.

“That’s it, isn’t it dad? You’re a big homophobe and you don’t want people to know your son is dating another boy.”

“I am not… I have nothing against those people. I just know my own son and I know you’re only doing it to get a rise out of me.”

Robert shook his head.

“You’re wrong. Aaron is my boyfriend and I love him.”

Jack snorted.

“Don’t use words you don’t know the meaning of.”

“I think I know it better than you! Aaron is my boyfriend and I love him!” Robert repeated. “Maybe we’ll even get married one day. Settle down in the village and have a couple of kids. We’ll change our names to Sugden - Dingle or Dingle - Sugden and the kids will call you grandpa Jack.”

“Quiet Robert!” Jack ordered.

Robert shook his head. He’d mostly said those things to get a rise out of his father but he had to admit to himself, he liked the idea of maybe settling down with Aaron one day.

“I have to go.” he said more to himself than to Jack and started running in the general direction of the village.

“You’re not going anywhere, Robert!” Jack yelled. “Where do you think you’re going?!”

“To tell my boyfriend I love him!” Robert yelled back, the look on Jack’s face an added bonus.

He ran all the way to Smithy Cottage and banged on the door. When Aaron opened it, Robert lunged at him and kissed him.

“Hello to you too.” Aaron said and laughed slightly when they broke the kiss. “What was that for? What are you doing here? Are you alright? You’re shaking.”

“I’m ok. I’m great. Perfect.” Robert panted, exhausted from running all the way but the adrenaline keeping him upright.

“Why are you so out of breath? Did you have another fight with your dad?”

“No. Yes. Doesn’t matter.”

Robert took a few deep breaths to try to get his breathing under control and his heart rate back to normal.

“I had to see you. To tell you something.”

Aaron frowned.

“Did you run here or something?” He asked and Robert nodded. “Why didn’t you just text me?”

“Wanted to see your face when I told you.”

“Tell me what?”

Robert smiled, took Aaron’s hand and made him step outside.

“That I love you.” he said and kissed a stunned Aaron.

“You what?”

“I know… I know we started out as a way to piss of my dad, which worked like a charm by the way.” Robert said and laughed. “But… I really like you now. More than that. It’s real. I love you. And maybe one day we’ll get married and have kids and everything… but right now… I just wanted to tell you… that I love you.”

“I… what? Are… are you sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“Really? Wow… I… don’t really know what to say.” Aaron stammered.

“I love you too, Robert would be nice. Or something along those lines.” Robert offered and Aaron laughed.

“Yeah, you’re right. I suppose I do. I love you too, Robert.” He wrapped his arms around Robert’s neck and kissed him. “But you’re mad for running all the way over here.”

[thebisexualdogdad]

Trials and tribulations chapter 1

Based off of my OC's

Kane, are you satisfied with your life? 

What if I told you there's a home for people like you? 

A school where you'd be surrounded by your peers to master the deadly arts. 

Welcome to King's Dominion. 

Nearly a year now Kane Saito had been at King's and six months since he and Billy Bennett had begun dating. 

Everything seemed to be going fine until Billy found out Kane had been keeping a secret from him. 

"When were you going to tell me that not only are you apart of the Kuroki Syndicate but also Saya's brother!" Billy shouted storming into Kane's dorm room, slamming the door shut behind him.  

"Half brother Billy. Same dad, different mom," Kane said calmly, turning around in his desk chair where he was doing his homework. 

"She's still your sister Kane! You've been here a year and neither of you bothered to mention this to anyone," he said crossing his arms. 

"Saya was raised to be apart of the Kuroki I'm only here because I have no other choice," he retorted. 

"What are you talking about?"

"I had a normal life Billy, I was supposed to go to Juliard and instead I'm here... as if Juliard is going to accept an application from a school for assassins that doesn't exist to the public. I want nothing to do with this place or the Kuroki's," Kane stated.  

"But if you never came here we wouldn't have met," Billy replied. 

"You are the only good thing about this damn school Billy, even if I am counting down the days till graduation." 

Billy was beginning to calm down, taking a seat on Kane's bed. 

"So do you and Saya like… hate each other or something?" Billy asked. 

"I mean Saya's okay, but we haven't exactly tried to have an actual relationship," Kane shrugged. 

"Did you know about Saya before?" He questioned on. 

"I didn't find out about Saya until my mother told me on her death bed that my father cheated on his wife with her and had a bastard child who was well, me. She told me all about the Kuroki which was his family lineage and now that i was 16 i had to come here and bare my birthright in the group or they would consider me a traitor and kill me," Kane explained. 

"Why didn't you ever tell me," Billy said softly. 

"Because I'm still trying to process it all myself… and it feels like my mom betrayed me and i hate her for it."

"Oh."

"While Saya and I are related, I'm a bastard legacy and I consider myself a Rat," Kane shrugged. 

"So this is why Yukio hates you so much," Billy sighed. 

"He thinks I want to take Saya's place as head of the Kuroki and if anyone were to replace Saya he wants it to be him." 

"Well it is your birthright," Billy stated, "and wouldn't it be kinda cool to be in charge? No one would fuck with us then."

"It's not what i want Billy," Kane said sternly noticing his boyfriend getting hyped over the idea, "so please..  Just drop it." 

"Okay, okay," Billy said playfully raising his hands in the air and stepping in front of Kane, "you want to fool around until potions class?" 

Kane grinned and pulled Billy into his lap, "why don't we just skip class today?"

"I like the way you think," Billy said before kissing him hard. 

-

"What's up with that new kid, Marcus?" Kane asked looking at him down the hallway of lockers. 

"Rumor says he burned down an entire orphanage," Lex told him. 

"He looks like a little prick, no way he has the balls to do that kind of shit," Kane huffed.

"I don't know, he looks like he has an edge to him. What do you think Billy?" Petra added. 

"I think he looks like a fun time," Billy said innocently. 

"I think he looks like he's been tweaked out and there's more to the story," Kane said under his breath not liking the way Marcus was looking at Saya. 

Kane and Saya might not have the best relationship but there was no lying he cared about his sister, even if she didn't want him to. 

"Looks like the new kid wants to shag your sister mate," Lex laughed. 

"Shut it Miller," he grunted, "just because you all know Saya's my sister now doesn't change anything." 

Saya noticed Kane staring at her and Marcus so she rolled her eyes and walked away leaving Marcus confused in the middle of his sentence. 

Kane had a bad feeling about Marcus, he couldn't put his finger on it but there was something off about him. 

-

"So the new kid," Luca said with a gravelly voice. 

"You really want to talk about Marcus now?" Maria said lifting her head from where it had been between Luca's legs. 

"I'm just saying, he was checking you out when you guys brought him in," Luca muttered as Maria gripped him particularly hard with her hand. 

"Well it's not his dick in my mouth now is it?" Maria retorted. 

"Forget i said anything," Luca replied throwing his head back in pleasure. 

Maria was about to return to her previous activities but there was a knocking on her dorm room door. 

"Shit," they both grunted, Luca scrambling to get his pants back up and hide in the closet. 

"Maria, it's lunch and you stood me up," Chico said entering the room with two of his boys. 

"I'm sorry Chico I'm not feeling so well," Maria lied. 

"Oh baby what's wrong?" Chico said faux worried. 

"It's just that time of the month, cramps are killing me," Maria told him. 

"Say no more," Chico replied, Maria could always get him to stop asking questions when she used that one, "you rest, I'll have Alvaro bring lunch to you." 

"Thank you baby," Maria said kissing his cheek. 

"You know I always take care of my girl," Chico said smugly. 

Luca however rolled his eyes from inside the closet. 

"I will see you later mi amor," Chico said exiting Maria's room. 

When they were gone Maria opened the closet door for Luca. 

"He's so full of shit," Luca grumbled. 

"He's Chico, he owns me and there's nothing I can do," Maria sighed sitting on her bed. 

"I promise you Maria Salazar," Luca said taking her head in his hands, "one day you and I will be together, far far away from this place and Chico, nobody owns you." 

"I can't wait for that day," Maria smiled before kissing him.

-

"So you're fooling around with Luca Giordano," Saya said approaching Maria at the sink in the girl's bathroom. 

"Shh," Maria said looking around making sure no one else was in there with them. 

"Don't worry I already checked, no one's here," Saya assured her. 

"How did you figure it out?" Maria questioned. 

"I saw him leaving your room earlier," Saya told her. 

"You're not gonna tell Chico are you?" 

"Of course not Maria, Chico is a flaming piece of shit," Saya said shaking her head, "just tell me Luca treats you right." 

"Luca is incredible… I love him," Maria says leaning against the sink. 

"Then you're secrets safe with me," Saya smiles. 

"So are things getting any better with your brother?" 

"I don't know, Kane was practically giving Marcus the death glare when he saw me talking to him," Saya sighs. 

"You and Marcus huh?" Maria teases. 

"I mean he's kind of cute," she said blushing. 

"Kane's just being the typical overprotective brother," Maria assures her.

"We've only known each other for a year he hasn't earned that right yet." 

"Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt." 

"Maybe he should try harder if he wants to be my family," Saya retorts. 

"It's a two way street Saya, you're not gonna get anywhere if both if you don't try harder." 

"Are you going to Siobhan's party Friday night?" Saya said effectively changing the subject. 

[daddiesdrarryy]

Better Than This - Neville/Theodore

Read chapter 1 and chapter 2 here on ao3

Summary for chapter 2: Theo learns about Neville's childhood. After that, Neville is late for their anniversary and he decides to make up for it

Word count: 9727 (both chapters)

(I know this couple is underrated but that’s why I write fics for them, enjoy the big ass ‘lemon’ below xoxo)

_______________________

“…my father was a real git, he was like Draco’s father, but my mother was an amazing woman, I’m surprised she even put up with him. Well, she did tell me when I came out to her that if I ever find a man of my own, that man needs to think of me as his world, not the other way around, she did have a point, my father was stupid, but he did love my mother a lot” Theo touched Neville’s bare chest lightly with his finger and draped his leg over the other man’s thighs “So, that’s my horrible family stories, and how mad my mother got when I got a rainbow tattoo on my butt, but enough about me and my family, tell me about yours”

 “I…I don’t think you’d want to hear it” Neville stuttered and kissed Theo’s forehead, to distract him, it was what Neville always did when he felt uncomfortable talking about something

 “I know, it’s okay if you don’t want to, it’s only been a few months since we started dating” Theo sighed, he knew it was hard for Neville to tell him everything, he knew Neville was still very insecure, but all he wanted was for Neville to be able to talk to him, like partner to partner, Neville was the first and the only one that made Theo felt this way, he felt appreciated for the first time. Since the…destined day they met again, it has been two months and two weeks, Neville has been his best boyfriend ever, he held Theo’s hands, he kissed his forehead and cheeks a lot, like Theo was something special to him, no, someone special to him. Every former boyfriend of Theo has always been too pretentious and they considered Theo as an object for them to show off, rather than someone they love, being with Neville was something new, and exciting, and Theo loved it, so he just hugged Neville closer and kissed his cheeks before closing his eyes, they have been snuggling up like this for the past few hours and it was best that they slept now

 “My great uncle Algie dropped me out of a window once” The blonde said and Theo’s eyes opened in shock, he looked up at Neville and gaped

 “He what?”

 “I…” Neville kissed his temple and continued “You’ve met my parents twice, and my grandmother once, so I guess I could tell you about other members of my family” Neville smiled at him “I care about you, and I want to tell you this, it’s my decision” Theo nodded gently and let the man talked “My great-uncle, he… tried to scare magic into me when I was younger, he thought I was a Squib, so he kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned… but nothing happened until I was eight. He came round for tea and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my great-auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go...so…well I bounced, so it was all fine after all”

 “Neville…he dropped you off? That’s…insane” Theo couldn’t stop imagining the scenarios, it was utterly wrong to do that

 “Well, it’s all in the past now, and he died when I was in Fifth Year so…” Neville sighed out “It’s fine”

 “It’s still wrong, how could someone do that to their family?” Theo slid his hand up Neville’s hair and the blonde’s eyes immediately fluttered, he smiled brightly knowing that Neville loved being touched like that, it was soothing to him in a way, Theo hasn’t found out why

 “It’s okay, The—…” He stopped to yawn and pulled Theo in a hug “Come on, let’s sleep” Theo grinned and turned on his other side so Neville could spoon him, he loved being the small spoon

 “Goodnight Nev” He intertwined their hands and gave Neville’s hand a kiss

 “Goodnight, Theo” Neville said while yawning again, he kissed his shoulder blade before both of them fell asleep

    *

    “And I cannot believe he bloody threw Neville off a window? Like…why?” Theo groaned and ruffled his messy hair

 “Seriously? That’s why you called all of us here on a Sunday?” Pansy rolled his eyes at him and grabbed Hermione’s cup of coffee to sip on

 “Hey!” Hermione said and turned back to Theo “We knew, he did tell us that”

 “Yeah…he told us about him when he got the news that Algie died” Harry said while hugging Draco on the couch

 “Okay you need to stop with the grinding” Theo complained “That is my couch and you two are not gonna come on it”

 “Well I can’t leave his lap now, you guys will see his hard on” Draco smirked and everyone just groaned loudly

 “Come on, Draco” Ginny said “Pansy, why did you set them up again?”

 “Well they kept pining on each other for ten years so I thought it’d be good once they’re a thing, but now that they’re a couple it’s just getting more horrible each day with the grinding and the snogging, you two shag nonstop” Pansy said

 “You set us up, now you all have to face the consequences” Draco shrugged and turned around to kiss Harry on his lips

 “Back again to the uncle thing, what are you going to do about it?” Hermione asked and Theo shook his head

 “I wish I could just punch him or something, but he’s dead”

 “Well, they’re Pureblood right?” Ron chimed in and said, with Blaise draping an arm over him as usual

 “Yeah?”

 “So they’ll have portraits of the dead people” Ron shrugged

 “Oh right, Harry has this horrendous portrait of my great aunt and she is a menace, we eventually found a way to shut her up” Draco added and Theo hummed

 “Okay so…what do I do with a portrait?”

 “You obviously can’t punch a portrait, so you could obviously yell at it, I think”

 “When I told Draco about my childhood, he found my uncle and turned him into a pig with Ron” Harry suddenly said and they all turned to him

 “What?”

 “He was a pig” Draco replied plainly “I merely turned him into what he is meant to be”

 “Hey what are you guys talking about?” Neville walked out to the living room in his pyjamas and rubbed his eyes, then he looked at the room and paused for a second “Er…why is everyone here?”

 “Er…” Everyone just looked at each other until Pansy spoke

 “Luna draws” She pointed to Luna, who has been sitting there silently to draw something on her sketchbook that the gang bought for her on her birthday

 “Oh, nice, what did you draw, Luna?” Neville smiled and walked to her

 “Oh it’s just two cats…”

 “Aww” Everyone replied

 “Copulating” She finished and showed everyone her drawing

 “Oh my” Theo said, and it was all they could say

 “It’s very…realistic, Luna” Ron said “You are amazing”

 “I know right? I drew it based on our two cats at home”

 “But aren’t those two male cats?” Harry asked and Luna nodded, continued finishing her drawing, everyone shrugged and got back to what they were doing, they have hangout with Luna long enough to know this is a normal thing for her to do

 “Neville, go wash up, we’ll have lunch together” Theo pushed Neville inside and got back to the kitchen, leaning on Pansy’s shoulder and sighed

 “We also haven’t had sex”

 “What?” Pansy and Ginny squeaked in unison and Theo shushed them

 “Shut up” He ordered “It’s just…it’s Neville, I get it, but I am so so so so so horny right now” Theo said and chew on his lower lips. On the night they first met and first kissed, Theo had invited Neville over, but they ended up sleeping on the couch while watching a movie on his Muggle television, and they have tried to do it since “Every time we kissed, I want to grind against him but he just kept the distance, still kissing, but our lower parts…not even touching, I don’t get that part though”

 “Maybe he’s shy” Ron said “Just ask for it”

 “Who are you to say it? You and Blaise shagged on your first date!” Theo threw his middle fingers at them and sighed

 “I was going to save that for the third date, but I felt Blaise’s dick while kissing so…you know, it was destiny”

 “Eww, Luna’s here, bugger off with your gross stories” Ginny covered Luna’s ear and hissed at her brother “It’s nice to not hear yours or Draco and Harry’s sex stories once in a while”

 “Alright, sorry sister” Ron gave her a lopsided smile and continued eating his toast

 “Maybe I should talk to the portrait of Neville’s uncle, who wants to go?” Theo suggested and two of them raised their hands

   *

   “So, is it good?” Theo turned to ask when he saw Pansy and Ginny walked into the big hallway

 “Yes, apparently Draco’s really good at talking with old people, luckily we begged him to go” Pansy hummed “He has his way around them”

 “Okay so, the portrait is right there” Ginny pointed to the portrait at the end of the hallway “What do we do? Shout at him? Can we punch a portrait?”

 “No we can’t punch a portrait, Ginny” Theo sighed and made his way to the portrait of Neville’s great-uncle “Let’s just make this a…civil thing”

 “Ugh, civil, if I had known you’d be soft like this, I wouldn’t have come, I want to see quarrels and yelling and probably a punch or two”

 “See?” Ginny beamed and high-fived Pansy. Theo sighed in despair and finally stood in front of the portrait, the man turned to look at him and the girls and gasped

 “Filth! Scum! Why would anyone let you in this house you filthy Death Eater!” Theo looked down at his bare arm, where the Mark stayed put, he smiled, not because he had the Mark, the Mark was a stupid mistake he made just like Draco, but every night, Neville would kiss the Mark to reassure to Theo that Neville still love him despite it

 “Hey! Don’t insult our friend” Pansy snapped

 “There’s no need to shout, Pansy, calm down” Theo put a hand on her shoulder and looked back at him

 “Hi, I’m Theodore Nott”

 “I know who you are, and your vile father” The great-uncle glared at him with disgust “Your whole family is a disgrace to the Purebloods”

 “Oh I forgot to mention, I’m also Neville’s boyfriend” He said and folded his arms, waiting for the man’s reaction

 “Preposterous! Completely absurd! Why would he be in a relationship with a filthy Death Eater like you” The man started shouting

 “You don’t have a say in this old man” Ginny snapped as well. Theo didn’t think she’d say it

 “How could you torture your own great-nephew like that?” Pansy yelled at him and turned to whisper to Ginny’s ear “It’s great-nephew right?” In which Ginny nodded

 “How could you throw your nephew into a lake?” Ginny added

 “And throw him from the window just to force magic out of him?” Pansy said and Theo was surprise that the girls actually yelled at the man for him, he didn’t think he could say it now, his words were stuck in his throat

 “He didn’t show any sign of magic, and if our family had a Squib, it would be a dis—…”

  “Disgrace” Theo rolled his eyes “Typical. I can’t believe you are the man who gave Neville his first pet and gave him the enthusiasm to learn about plants, you are a horrible human being. You are a disgrace to this family, you should feel ashamed of what you did” Theo said, his eyes started watering, he didn’t know why, it was just too emotional for him, there he was, standing in front of a man, who almost killed the love of his life twice, or even more, his mind has come up with a few scenarios and it was all terrible. Neville looked nothing like this vile man in front of him, Neville is everything Theo could have asked for

 “How dare you speak to me like that you scum? I will—…” Before the portrait could finish, Theo was already walking away, he wiped the tears off his eyes and bit on his lips, it was alright, the past was the past, and Neville turned out amazing despite what his uncle did to him. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down, then he heard footsteps behind him

 “Theo, are you alright?” Pansy rushed to him and asked “We scolded him as well, threatening him too, but he’s already dead, so…”

 “Yeah, I’m fine, I got to talk to the man, that’s good”

 “I punched a portrait, if it makes you feel better” Ginny shrugged and Theo snorted at her

 “You punched a portrait? How is that even possible?”

 “Beats me” Ginny laughed and the three of them walked out of there

    *

    “Hey, what’s up?” Hermione answered the Firecall, her face flared on the flames and Theo sighed

 “What are you doing?” Hermione looked at him with her eyebrow raised

 “Theo, this is a Firecall, it’s for emergencies, what’s going on?”

 “Hey is that Theo?” Pansy’s voice echoed through and then her face was in the flames as well “Hey”

 “Hey” He said with a pinch of sadness in his tone

 “Aren’t you suppose to be eating with Neville by now?” Pansy asked and Hermione looked at her

 “What?”

 “Yeah, Ginny and I helped set the room, he cooked, it was amazing” Pansy said and paused “But…he’s not there, is he?”

 “I-…” He replied hesitantly “He must have forgotten about it, it’s nothing, I’m just bored”

 “Theo, it’s like…almost nine o’clock now, he’s still not home? It’s your date. He made a promise” Hermione said

 “It’s…nothing, you know, he must be grading the papers now, I get it” Theo said, it was true, sometimes Neville would get too busy and he tended to forget about things, but Theo didn’t mind it much, not really. He glanced over at the dinner table, where all Neville’s favourite food was there, he made it all by himself, Pansy and Ginny were not good chefs, but they did decorate the room and set the table. It was a few days after Theo and the girls yelled at the portrait and Theo decided to do something nice for Neville, but…well…

 “Theo, call him” Pansy suggested and her wife nodded along

 “No, no, he’s busy, well…I’ll keep waiting, bye girls, have a good night together” He said and before the girls could reply, he ended the Firecall. He got back to his seat and sighed deeply

 “He’s be here, soon” He reassured himself

   *

   “Neville?” Theo jolted from his sleep and sat up straight, an owl appeared on the window and he walked to it, didn’t look like Neville’s owl. He took the letter from the owl and opened it

 “If you’re eating with Neville right now, tick in the ‘Yes’ box, if not, tick in the ‘No’ box, send this back to me immediately” Theo sighed. It was from Pansy and Hermione’s. He gave the owl a few treats and let her go, he didn’t have the strength to reply anymore, he literally fell asleep while waiting for Neville. He glanced to the Muggle clock Hermione gave him on Christmas and stared at the time. 11:30pm, great. Theo left the kitchen and walked to the bedroom, not even bothered to cast the food under warming charm, he didn’t even feel hungry anymore, just…sad.

     *

    “Theo”

  “Theo”

    “Theodore” Theo squeezed his eyes opened and yawned, because someone was shaking him and whispering his name, and he was sleeping.

 “What?” He snapped at the blurry figure, it was dark, too dark to make out who it was

 “I’m sorry” Neville whispered in his ear and Theo flinched. Neville. What would he do? Be mad? Snap at him? Yell? Even punch him?

 Instead he turned on his other side and pulled the blanket over his shoulder, he decided to continue sleeping

 “Theo” Neville said again and he ignored him

 “Let me sleep” Theo closed his eyes and mumbled

 “Theo, I’m so sorry” Neville continued “I forgot, there were so many papers, and I had to deal with the detentions of some students, I forgot”

 “Neville Longbottom, let me sleep” He grumbled back

 “Full name, shit, Theo, I’m sorry” Neville said and put his hand on Theo’s shoulder, which the brunette shrugged it off and moved away to the middle of the bed

 “I completely forgot, I’m an arse, I was stupid and I didn’t remember and I don’t know what to do, Theo, don’t be mad at me” Neville pleaded him and Theo sighed

 “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed”

 “That’s worse, everyone knows it’s worse” Neville said and ran to the other side of the bed to lie down with Theo

 “Let me sleep, Nev, or I will actually be mad because you kept ruining my beauty sleep”

 “I’m sorry I arrived late, and forgot about our date, I’d never make you feel like this again” Neville cupped Theo’s face and kissed his lips, he moved closer and Theo could actually feel Neville’s robes, he didn’t change his clothes apparently

 “And do tell, what on earth will you do to make up to me, since you said I’m mad, which I’m not?” He opened his eyes and stared at the man next to him, Neville had lightened up some candles so now he could see Neville’s face properly. He looked…sad, he could never be mad at Neville for too long, just looking at his eyes made Theo felt soft again

 “What do you want? I will do everything”

 “Hmm” Theo sighed and closed his eyes, there was only one way he could keep sleeping, and he really wanted to sleep, so he touched Neville’s jawline and smiled

 “Fuck me”

 “What?” Without even looking, Theo could tell Neville’s eyes were wide and his mouth was in an ‘O’ shape right then. He smirked and pat Neville’s chest, humming quietly, he knew Neville would never do it, not yet, at least, so he could safely say it and then he could sleep

 “That’s right, let’s go to sleep now” He pulled the blanket up again and went to sleep

   *

   “Theo”

 “Hmm, Neville what are you doing?” Theo frowned because he was up again, it was barely five minutes, he opened his eyes and looked at his boyfriend

 “I…I want to…do…you” Neville mumbled and Theo immediately feel awake right then

 “I beg your pardon?”

 “I don’t want you to be sad, I said I’d do anything, and this time, I won’t break my promise”

 “Neville” He breathed out “You don’t have to do this, I know you want to take it slow, and I agreed to it, we’ll do it when you’re ready”

 “N-no, I’m ready” Neville replied “I…I want to make love to you, it’s just…I have a little problem”

 “Little?” Theo asked

 “Well, I’ll tell you later” Neville sat up and grabbed the blanket, throwing it on the floor, Theo gasped at the cold, he didn’t wear a shirt when he went to sleep, so now it was a bit cold for him, he was only wearing his boxer as usual

 “Nev!” He shrieked and froze a bit when Neville began undressing himself, he took his tie off and suddenly Theo felt like he was turned on by it so much, the only thing left was Neville’s red boxer. The blonde leaned down and put his hands on either side of Theo’s head, and he kissed him. Theo hummed happily, Neville was always good at kissing, his kisses were soft, gentle like himself, he could spend days and nights being kissed by Neville. When the brunette slid his tongue inside, Theo shuddered, the taste of Butterbeer and pumpkin pie, he must have had it during dinner at Hogwarts. Neville also has this earthy scent from him, he also smelled like parchment and ink, obviously. Theo let out a small moan when Neville stroke him through his boxer, then he trailed the kisses down Theo’s bare neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there, earning more whimpers from the brunette.

 “Neville” He wailed when Neville sucked on his nipple and played with the other one, fuck, his nipples were always the most sensitive spot. He wiggled his way out of his own boxer and sighed when he could finally stroke himself, but Neville grabbed his wrists and pinned it above his head, Theo’s eyes widened at his roughness

 “I’m sorry, but let me do it, I want to make you feel good” Neville whispered and nibbled on his ear, which brought shivers down Theo’s spine, then he felt lube inside him, well he was bloody good at wandless spell now, wasn’t he?

 “Are you sure you know how to do this?”

 “I’m sure, I was in the room when Ron asked Draco about…sex, and he also told me a few things on… how to…satisfy you if I ever needed to do it, because it’s what Harry often does to Draco, so yes, I’m sure” Neville nodded firmly and for once Theo felt scared. What if he didn’t know what to do? Theo might have to walk him through it, oh but it could be good, Theo loved taking leads on some occasions too

 “Okay, I trust yo—aah ah fuck” Theo jolted when he felt Neville’s finger making its way inside him, it was good, so he did know what to do. One finger slithering and pushing inside his lubed entrance slowly, carefully, the brunette arched his back, wanting more, and it was like Neville actually heard him. Did he say it out loud? But Neville was pushing another digit in, he began scissoring and Theo found it hard to breath, really hard, his cock was also hard.

 “Oh my god” Theo’s eyes rolled up to the ceilings as he felt Neville’s finger deep inside him, if he could roll his eyes farther he could see his own brain. Where the hell did he learn to do that?

 “Does it hurt?” Neville asked him and Theo shook his head “Tell me if it hurts”

 “No! No! More, I want more” He pleaded and his boyfriend obeyed, as he pushed another finger in, Theo grabbed on the bedsheets and pulled it, Merlin he felt it, his fingers were longer than Theo’s and it was making him feel completely in ecstasy

 “Is three enough? Should I add another?” Neville asked while he kissed Theo’s neck

 “Wait” Theo put a hand on Neville’s chest and looked up at him “Four?”

 “Yeah, I don’t want you to get hurt”

 “Hurt? I—…” Theo paused and looked down at the bulge on Neville’s boxer, he pushed his boyfriend back and sat up “When you said you have a little problem, what was it?”

 “I-…” Neville hesitated and sat on his heels “I’ve never…done it with anyone before because I’m afraid they’d get hurt”

 “What do you mean h—…wait” Theo chewed on his lips and crawled to Neville’s spot, he put one finger inside his boxer and stretched it out to see what was inside

 “Holy—…” He gasped and looked up at Neville, who was blushing “This is a little problem? It’s a huge one” Theo stripped the boxer off Neville and signalled him to pull it all off, he stared at Neville’s hard length, it was right in front of him, long, thick and leaking, it was…he could say it was the most beautiful cock he has ever seen, and he has seen a lot of cocks before

 “Oh Neville” He pulled him down for a kiss, his hand slid down to stroke Neville’s length “You are so sweet” He mumbled and sucked on Neville’s neck, making his mark there. His boyfriend was afraid he couldn’t take it, so he didn’t do it, how could anyone be so sweet like that? Theo wondered

 “I will suck you off until I gag, one day” Theo whispered in Neville’s ear and lied down on the bed, pulling the blonde down with him “But now, put that in me or I’ll put it in myself”

 “Which position do you want to do? Because Draco actually drew some of the positions out for Ron and I…and…he said if I did it to you from behind it wouldn’t hurt you as much?”

 “Oh honey” Theo chuckled “Okay, we can try” He rolled onto his stomach and Neville handed him a pillow to put under his belly, he smiled at the gentle gesture of his boyfriend.

 “Tell me if it hurts” Neville whispered in his ear one more time before angling the head of his leaking cock at Theo’s entrance

 “Oh wow” He gasped when he felt the head

 “What? Does it hurt?”

 “No, I’m just…surprised” Theo snorted “Come on, stick it in, like eating a banana, except your cock is the banana and my arse is the mouth”

 “That’s a horrible comparison” Neville laughed “Alright, I—wait”

 “What’s wrong?”

 “I want to see your face” Neville said softly behind him and Theo smiled

 “You dork” He said and rolled over, wrapping his arms around Neville’s neck “Now, first, I won’t get hurt, second, I like you a lot but I can hit you if you don’t put that in me right now, third, I won’t get hurt, trust me, trust us” He ghosted his breath over Neville’s lips “Kissing makes it better if you don’t know” He said and connected their lips once again. He felt Neville pushing inside, Theo could feel himself being stretched out slowly, he felt the burn, mostly, but the way Neville kissed him was making him forget it

 “Oh god you’re so big” He mumbled between their kiss and wrapped his arms around Neville’s torso instead, his heels digging into Neville’s thighs “More” He moaned, pushing himself back against the blonde’s cock, it was opening him so wide right now he could barely feel anything else, his eyes squeezed shut and he was chewing on his lips so hard he could cut it

 “Fuck I can’t believe it’s still not fully in yet” Theo breathed out heavily because he could still feel the push, the burn and the bliss. After a few more seconds his boyfriend finally stopped moving and he sighed

 “Neville, are you alright?”

 “Yeah” Neville murmured “Give me a minute, you’re so tight” He leaned his forehead on Theo’s and the brunette chuckled, kissing his cheeks. Once his boyfriend got his strength back, he gasped when Neville began thrusting

 “Oh my god” He moaned and clawed at Neville’s back, his mouth wide open from the feelings. His thrusts were fast and every thrust hit right at Theo’s prostate, it didn’t miss once. The bed shook as the blonde kept fucking into Theo, apart from his own moans, there were only the sound of Neville’s breath and the sound of skin slapping against skin. Theo has never felt this way with anyone before, all he could think of was that he was going to come soon

 “Faster” He whined, asking for more, and Neville gave him more, his pace became quicker and Theo found himself unable to make words anymore, he started babbling and their kiss became more frantic. And suddenly, Neville’s hand came down to stroke Theo’s member, the brunette cried out and came, shooting it all over his own stomach and chest, he hugged Neville closer and whispered in his ear

 “Neville come for me” He said and Neville continued jamming in, his body tensed up and then he was coming inside Theo, the blonde groaned and almost collapsed

 “Woah there big guy” Theo laughed and let Neville lied down on his side, when he pulled out, Theo could feel the hot fluids coming out of his still loosen entrance, he traced his finger over Neville’s jawline and gave his boyfriend a kiss on his forehead

 “Tired?” He asked and Neville nodded

 “Let’s go to sleep” He grabbed his wand from the bedside table and cleaned both of them up, then he pulled the blanket to drape it over them, Neville sighed, pulling the brunette closer and kissed him

 “I’m sorry” He said

 “It’s fine, Neville, I wasn’t even mad, father used to break promises all the time”

 “But I don’t want to be your father, I’m your boyfriend, and a promise is a promise, I won’t break it ever again” Neville mumbled and Theo brushed his boyfriend’s hair behind his ear, smiling

 “You’re sweeter than honey, and I like you for that, but if you fuck me every time you’re late, I won’t even mind it” He chuckled and hugged Neville back “Go to sleep”

 “Happy three months’ anniversary, Theo”

 “Happy anniversary, Neville” He kissed Neville one more time before both of them fell asleep together

    *

   Neville woke up to an empty bed, he yawned and put a boxer on, walking out of the bedroom, when he got to the living room, the first thing he heard was Pansy and Ginny’s shrieks

 “Congrats” Ginny squealed

 “You had sex” Pansy shrieked

 “You lost your virginity” Ginny added and Neville felt his cheeks burning up

 “Congrats” Pansy said

 “I’m sorry, they got it out of me, I didn’t even say anything” Theo said, leaning on the kitchen counter

 “Oh my god is that scratch marks?” Ginny shrieked louder and Pansy gasped

 “I made coffee” Theo said and handed his boyfriend a cup of hot coffee, Neville smiled, putting the cup down and pulled Theo flushed against him instead

 “Aww” Both girls squealed and Theo glared at them

 “Get out”

 “Oh but—…”

 “Get out” He said again and the girls pouted, Apparating away

 “Good morning” He told Theo

 “Morning” Theo smiled and Neville looked at his boyfriend, he was a piece of art, he was simply beautiful and smart and perfect in every way, he was more than what Neville could wish for, and he wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world, for he already had the world in his arms right now.

[ashes-and-ashes]

The Prank

Hey!! So, right now I’m working on That Fateful Night, which I’ll probably be completing over the weekend. But after that, I had a few people ask for my take on “The Prank.” I decided to give you guys a tiny snippet of what my next big project is!! Really hope you enjoy this! (This was kinda therapeutic for me, especially after all the shit that happened in the last few days...)

@rosielupin @jencala

tw for homophobia and strong language

~

He sits in the hallway, against the wall. The stone is cool against his back, grounding him against the sea of emotions, the bitterness and resentment and anger.

He was at the table, a few hours before the full moon. Him and James and Peter and Remus, huddled at the end of the long table, whispering in hushed voices about tonight’s transformation. There was some sort of staff meeting that night, and they had to make sure that they were hidden and unseen, make sure that they could keep Remus’ secret.

It was getting harder, sneaking out of the castle. Too many nosy people, the Slytherins taking more interest in them ever since Sirius ran away.

There were the taunts too, mocking smirks and subtle sniggers, whenever they thought Sirius was alone. Hey, Black. Running away again? Cut off from your family name? Mudblood loving fag?

He was good at ignoring them, though, had learned how to over the days and months and years. They couldn’t do anything, not any more, the words like ash and mist compared to the torture he had once faced.

It was still a shock, realizing that he was gone, that they couldn’t hurt him, that he was free. A shock, to realize that there would be no more screaming, no more curses, no more scars carved onto his flesh. He had left, and he wasn’t going to ever look back.

The sounds of the owls cut through his thoughts, thousands of wings echoing in the hall. He always loved this part, the feathers and the beaks and the glowing eyes, rustling paper and the sound of wings. It had always appealed to him, the idea that you could outfly your problems in the sky, amongst the clouds. He’s staring at the owls when he sees it.

It’s a handsome screech owl, the black family crest dangling from it’s collar, and Sirius feels his heart drop into his stomach as it swoops above him. James and Peter and Remus are still lost in conversation, the owls ignored, but all Sirius can do is stare as he sees the letter being dropped into his lap.

He can barely remember leaving, shoving his chair under the table and muttering some half-assed excuse to the others. Fleeing, walking aimlessly, up and down the stairs until his legs were burning and his feet were numb. He sank down, against the nearest wall, the letter in his hand creased from his shaking hands.

It was interesting that his family still had that much power over him, that his mother could still make him feel faint with a single letter. He hated that part of himself, hated that he still cared, still have a damn about what they thought of him. With trembling hands, he spits open the seal, pulling out the thin paper with his fingers.

The letter is blunt, to the point, as if they couldn’t be bothered with their useless, wasted son.

You are no longer part of this family.

You no longer have any right to our name.

Never come back to us. Never contact us out our son.

Good riddance.

Across the bottom was scrawled several words, in a hand that could only belong to his mother: Blood-Traitor Loving Queer.

It hurts, a twisting blade inside of him, knocking the breath out of Sirius and making him feel dizzy with disbelief. It’s ironic, so bitterly and terribly ironic, that the one thing he once wanted more then anything in the world was now right in front of him. He scans the paper again, imagining his father typing it out, his mother scrawling words across it in black ink. They hadn’t bothered to wait, it seemed, perfectly fine to cut their eldest son out of their life.

He sets the paper down, his body shaking against the wall. He tried, tried so damn hard to forget it, to pretend he didn’t care. Fuck them, he whispers to himself. Fuck them, and their pure-blooded bullshitted way of life. You’re better off without them.

A small splotch of ink catches his eye, and he turns the paper over to find a hastily scribbled message on the back: They’re watching me. Don’t try and contact me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t come back.

I’m sorry.

Reg

Sirius lets his head fall back, the agony rising up inside of him. He was selfish, so goddamn selfish, abandoning his little brother to his screwed up parents. “I should have stayed,” he whispers, to the darkness of his knees, his face pressed into them, huddled into a tiny ball. “I should have stayed.”

There are footsteps down the corridor, light and too-casual, and Sirius tenses. He closes his eyes, pulls the cocky smirk and the glinting eyes and the arrogant air onto his face, shoving himself deeper into his shell. He stretches out a leg, shoving the letters into his pocket, the epitome of relaxation.

He winces, internally, as Snape comes up the stairs. He’s sipping wet, covered in mud, and as his eyes fall on Sirius, he raises an eyebrow. “So. The great Sirius, alone in a hallway. What’s wrong, Black? Hiding from your mother?”

Sirius scoffs, something vicious twisting inside his chest. He needs something, anything to take the edge off, dull this whirlwind of emotion inside his chest. He can’t stop himself as he replies, “Thought something smelled shitty in here. But it’s just you, isn’t it Snivellus?” Sirius frowns. “Or maybe it’s just the mud.”

Snape laughs, the sound forced and unnatural. “Brave words, coming from a queer-loving faggot.”

Sirius just shrugs, refusing to let the sting show. “You really ought to think of something more creative, Snivellus. You’ve been using that one for years.”

Snape laughs again, the noise seeming to grate inside his chest. “Where’s your boyfriend, Black? And the rest of those mudbloods?” He spits the words like they are daggers, his eyes gleaming with some strange light.

Anger flares inside Sirius’ chest. He knows he should walk away, before he said something truly stupid, but he can’t help it as he says, “Don’t talk about them like that.”

Snape smirks, a mocking grin, pressing his advantage. “Like what? It’s true, you know. Potter and his arrogance, Pettigrew and his softness, and Lupin. Gosh, that boy is daft. Dresses out of the rubbish bin, but you’ll shag anything, won’t you Bla - “

The roaring fills Sirius’ ears, a haze settling over everything. His voice is quiet, cold as ice as he says, “You’re one to talk, hounding over Evans like that. Following her like a bloody dog, hoping that she’ll throw you a scrap of her attention.” He scoffs. “When are you going to learn that Evans won’t date an overgrown, greasy little weasel of a - “

There’s a bang - Sirius feels his head being knocked back as a white-hot streak carved through his face. He laughs it off, though, ignores the pain as he mocks Snape. “And your aim is shitty to. It’s a wonder you can still see Evans, when you can’t even hit me with a binding spell from 2 feet - “

Snape’s voice is heated, anger pouring off him in waves. “Don’t you dare talk about her, she’s out of your league you little fag.”

Sirius just laughs. “Evans? Evans is completely out of my league. She’s amazing, and there is no chance in hell that she’s ever date a shitbag like you.” He shrugs, turning to go, noting the sun setting in the sky. “In any case, have fun, Snivellus. Try washing your hair - don’t drown in all the grease that comes out of it.”

He’s halfway down the hall when Snape shouts out. “Do you think I don’t know?”

He doesn’t bother to look at him. “Know what, love? We all know your hair his absolutely disgusting...”

Snape laughs, almost manically, his face bright red as he screams back at Sirius. “Know your secret! The big one, that all you keep.” He spits. “Of course it’d be you. The Queer and the Animal, a match made in heaven.”

Sirius whirls. He shoves Snape against the wall, knocking his head against a lamp. “What did you say?”

Snape glares back at him. “You know what I said. You and your vileness. Wouldn’t be below you to fuck a werewolf, would it?”

It’s as if Sirius has been shot. An icy numbness shoots down, turning his body to lead. Dimly, he can head Snape laughing, laughing as he smirks. “Wasn’t that hard to find out anyways. Remus always missing class the days of the full moon.” He spits. “Wonder how Lily would feel, if she knew her friend was a goddamn werewolf. Thanks for confirming it.”

Sirius slams him against the wall again. Panic is staring to bloom in his chest, a desperate, echoing feeling, terror that Snape knows. “Shut the hell up. He’s not...he’s not an animal.”

Snape just scoffs. “Is he?”

With a roar, Sirius snaps, pressing him against the wall. He punches Snape, square but the jaw, and Snape shrieks as Sirius’s fists crushes his nose. “If you tell anybody....”

Snape smirks. “So I’m right. And look, it’s the full moon tonight.” He gives Sirius a tiny smirk. “Wonder who’s transforming right now?”

“Severus, I swear to god - “

Snape just laughs. “Alliges Duplica.”

Suddenly, Sirius is frozen, collapsing to the ground as Snape laughs. “Thought you were the only one with tricks, yeah Black? Tough.” He steps over him, slamming his heel onto Sirius’ stomach. “I wasn’t sure if Lupin was a werewolf, but you basically confirmed it for me.” He leans closer, where Sirius is panting in pain, fire traveling up and down his limbs. “I wonder how he’s going to feel, when he realizes that you told his deepest secret.”

Sirius tried to speak, to scream, to say anything, but all Snape does is smirk. “Reckon you’ll miss the moon tonight. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find Remus.”

“No - “ Sirius croaks, but it’s too late. Without another word, Snape sweeps off, leaving Sirius frozen on the ground, his wand kicked to the side as the moon started to rise.

[laboratorioautoral]

Prompt: when Arya brings Jon as her date to some Tully cousin wedding everyone thinks it's because she had no one to invite. No one knows they're defiling some of the rooms of the wedding venue.

Fair warning that this one has M content in it. Enjoy the ride, girl!

“Itwas very nice of you to come with Arya.” Robb said while givingJon’s shoulder a friendly petting. He was Jon’s best friend and akilling business man, but when it came to observe his surroundingsand seeing the obvious Robb wasn’t exactly the brightest. Jon triedto play cool as if that wasn’t a big deal at all, he was sweatinglike a sinner in church inside his suite. “God knows these familygatherings can be a pain and after she broke up with Gendry it wouldimpossible for Arya to escape the inquisitorial brigade.”

Jonlaughed nervously as he held his whiskey and tried to play cool withhis best friend. He was a terrible liar and Robb was an overzealousbrother. Keeping him ignorant about the nature of his currentarrangement with Arya was for the best to all the parts involved.

“Ithappens that I’m a decent guy and Arya shouldn’t have to come toa place such as this on her own. I offered myself so she wouldn’tfeel embarrassed for not finding someone else escort her in time forthe wedding. I can always keep her far from your mother’s aunts andweird Lysa if needed, although I doubt Arya will ever need me torescue her.”

“Idon’t get it why you don’t have a girlfriend since Ygritte.”Robb had clearly drunk more than it would be wise to, but if thathelped him to keep his nose out of Jon’s business, all the best.“You are a true gentleman.” Robb said as he poked his chest,before going back to his table where Jayne was waiting for him with asour face.

Hewondered how many times Edmure would get married and force the wholefamily to pretend they believed that this time would be for real.Roslyn seemed to be a fine lady for sure, but that was no guaranteeof keeping Tully to one bed. That was none of Jon’s businessthough. As long as Jon could enjoy the free drinks he was cool withall the wedding extravaganza. More than just cool really.

Aryawas looking his way nervously. She wasn’t comfortable with Robbmaking questions, but that wasn’t the case. Robb was justcompletely oblivious and believing firmly that he had agreed toescort Arya out of pity and friendship. Well…Pity had nothing to dowith that.

Catdidn’t seem pleased with Jon’s presence at her brother’swedding, but Mrs. Stark remained as polite as ever although the wayshe looked at him was terrifying. Arya had reassured him that it wasjust because her mother had hoped for her to present her fiancee tothe rest of the family. Arya had ruined those plans a couple of weeksbefore the wedding by breaking up with her long term boyfriend forreasons Jon would never speak of out loud.

Hemight have had something to do with the split. He surely hadn’tkissed her out of friendship when Arya started to rant about how itwas absurd the pressure she was suffering for moving his relationshipto the next level. He hadn’t begged her to reconsider just becausehe didn’t agree that Gendry was the best for her. No…They hadn’tfucked the whole night just so Arya could be sure of her lifechoices. Oh no…That had been something both of them had beenfantasizing since Arya kissed him under the mistletoe in one of themany Christmas he had spent at the Starks, or at least he had. Jonwas going to hell anyway, so that was a sin he would never neglect.God, had it been worth it?!

Noone else in her family knew the reason behind her actions. Ned hadbeen upset, but not surprised, while Cat was somewhat embarrassedabout her daughter being so different from Sansa while dealing withthose things.

Whateverhappened between them was surely the result of a long period ofdenial and repressed feelings. He couldn’t tell when it started,only when it became to obvious and to asphyxiating to be omitted.Arya was supposed to be something like a little sister to him, giventhat Jon knew her since she was nine and he became friends with Robbat school. They were close, some times too close to make peoplearound them comfortable, but Jon never even considered looking at herin a different way until she started to date a random guy named EdricDayne.

AfterDayne came the foreign guy and then Gendry. With the last one thingswere getting serious and so was his crush on her. It was more than acrush really. Something between maddening lust and pure passion. Aryawould laugh at him if he said it out loud, but he was almost sure itwas love.

“WhatRobb wanted?” She came to him asked once her brother finally leftJon in peace.

Itwas unusual for Arya to wear dresses and fancy clothes, but that wasa special occasion after all. His eyes roamed all over her body andit was impossible to conceal his hunger for her. Hell! He wanted tovanish from that place, tell everyone to get lost and be alone withher in his hotel room. Burn the damn place, make her scream his nameso loud that the manager would end up calling the police.

“Hewas thanking me for coming as your escort.” Jon said before sippinghis whiskey while playing cool to not rise suspicions. “He thinksI’m a good friend.”

“Ohyou are a very good friend.” She replied with a sly grin playing onher red painted lips. “Very good indeed. Are you enjoying theparty?”

“Honestly?”Jon looked at her with utter boredom. “I hate your mother’s sideof the family. Really. I want all of them to get lost and I’m sureI’ll end up murdering someone if they ask me who my parents areagain.”

“Oldrich people have this weir habit. If you visited your father morefrequently, you would notice that too.” Arya pointed before takingthe glass from his hand and giving it a sip. “What can I do to makeit easier for you to stay here?”

“Youwant me to say the truth or to be polite?” Jon teased beforelooking around and checking if there wasn’t anyone looking. Once hefigured that it was safe to get closer to her, his hand restedagainst the small of her back and teased with the idea of grabbingher ass.

“Nothere.” Arya slap his shoulder lightly. “Later.”

“Ihate this place and everyone here but Robb and Ned. This is beingtorture and I want to take you back to the hotel so I can do all thenasty things I have in mind right now.”

“Careful,Jon. You’ll have to fulfill your promises. I’m not sure you’llbe sober enough to perform.” It was a challenge he was willing toaccept and prove her how capable he was.

“Ok.That’s the deal.” He said lowly close to her ear. “Find us anempty room here. Right now. I can’t wait any more.”

Aryagave a few steps back and grinned at him in a way that could onlymean she had a plan. Not an ordinary plan. More like somethingstraight out of a movie and wasn’t she a star after all? It wasonly fitting to her personality.

“Ithink…I need some wine.” She said while waving her hand at awaitress that was carrying the drinks.

Thegirl came to them and passed Arya a glass of red wine. Arya gave it asip while Jon looked at her a bit incredulous about her blunt lack ofconcern for his needs. He had no idea of what she had in mind. Maybeshe would just tease him to no end, so when they got back to thehotel he would be  all mad and angry, just to make thing rough andwild between them.

“Whatthe hell are you doing?” He questioned. Arya’s smile got wider.

“Drinkingsome wine.” She said sarcastically. “It’s really good. Youshould try it.”

“Idon’t want wine.” He replied without understanding what thatscene was all about.

“Youshould really try it, Jon.” Arya insisted as she came closer withthe glass in hand. He should have sensed the danger of her wickedmind, but he wasn’t the brightest when Arya got all of hisattention like that.

Itall happened very quickly. Arya made a face before faking a tumbleand spilling half of the wine all over his shirt. Jon was stupefiedfor a moment as he looked down his stained shirt. He didn’t knowwhat to do at first. He simply looked back at her without a clue ofwhat was wrong with her. Arya made an apologetic face that was aperformance worthy of an Academy Award.

“I’mso so sorry! Come! Let me find something to clean this mess before itruins your shirt for good.” She said before grabbing his hand anddragging him around like a dog on a leash.

Hefelt a bit stupid, but he played along. Jon let her lead the wayuntil they found the Stark’s table.

Assoon as Cat saw what have happened to his clothes, she looked at Aryaas if she hadn’t even been able to find an escort that could handlea glass of wine without making a mess out of it.

“Whathappened to you?” Ned asked first. It Robb was completely cluelessabout what was going on between Jon and Arya, he surely had inheritedhis slow perception from Ned.

“It’sall my fault. I was holding my glass when I tumbled and let the winespill all over Jon’s shirt.” Arya explained with the mostinnocent voice one could ever hear. “Mom, do you know where I canfind something to clean this mess? Maybe get Jon another shirt?”

Catlooked at them carefully. Jon was sure the woman hadn’t bought asingle word Arya had said, but she had no proof to contest herdaughter.

“Theguest’s room on the second floor is empty. You can ask someone ofthe staff to get Jon one of Edmure’s shirts. It maybe a bit largefor him, but it’s better than this for sure.” Cat replied in aneven and bored tone. “You should be more careful next time, Arya.”

“Oh,I will.” Arya grinned before grabbing his arm again. “Come, Jon.”

Thatwas when everything made sense inside his head. That wicked woman!How he loved it when she got them in a bit of a role play. He waspositively feeling like James Bond sneaking into the enemies lair tohave a good shag before stealing something vital to the mission.

Jontried to not laugh at the whole thing and play along with her story.Arya led him into her uncle’s outrageous house. The place waspretty much a palace, or at least something like a mansion frommovies. He had only seen something like that whenever visiting hisfather during summer or a random holiday.

Whenthey got to the second floor Arya dragged him inside the empty roomand slammed the door behind him. She looked at him with a triumphantgrin on her face as she inclined her head to the right just a bit.

“Ithink you should take of this shirt so we can fix it.” She teasedand before she could speak anything else Jon was already pressing heragainst the closed door and kissing her avidly.

Aryaremoves his blazer and unbuttoned his shirt blindly. Jon’s handsearched for the zipper of her dress and opened it half way to bed.It felt like unwrapping a Christmas present. Under the expensive gownhe found her in a set of smoking hot underwear. Something lacy andtransparent that looked inviting to the touch and gave little toimagination.

Shesat on the king size bad and spread her legs wide open. He needed notfurther clue for what do next. Jon got on his knees between her legas Arya laid her back on the bed. Jon gave her belly and open mouthkiss as his hand slid down from her breast to her slippery wet cunt.

Hisfingers sank inside her before his mouth could reach for her clit andgive it a hard suck. Arya let a little cry of surprise escape hermouth and Jon felt her body relax once his tongue started to work onher in sync with his fingers’ moves.

Herbody arched and her breath got labored. Jon could feel her alllanguid and his fingers played with her. Tight, warm and silken,nearly dripping so she could received him inside of her. Damn theparty downstairs and the need for a hushed encounter just to settlehis needs so he could make it to the rest of the day. Damn her familyand all the role play they had been putting up so no one would findout. He wanted Arya to scream his name loud and clear for everyone tolisten. There would be no moments of silence. He liked her betterwhen she would sing her songs of pleasure.

Aryaheld to the covers of the bed as her legs tightened around his head.He felt her right hand on his scalp, pulling his hair and keeping hishead in place. Not that Jon needed directions at that point. He knewhow she liked it. He had learned to read her body to the point ofknowing all of her favorite spots by heart.

Shelet a loud and strangled sound crawl out of her throat and Jon felther tightening around his fingers. Her taste invaded his mouth all ofa sudden and he licked every single drop of her. That was a goodentrance. Main course promised to be worthy of the gods’ mouths.

Jonlooked up to her, all lazily laid and grinning out of sheersatisfaction. It took her a few seconds to sat back in bed andunbuckle his trousers. For a moment he thought she would return thefavor. Not that he would complain if that was the case, but he wouldrather skip the foreplay and go straight to game. Luckily, Aryaseemed to read his mind at times.

Aryagot back on her feet and took his hand. She pulled him to thebathroom. Like a nymph or a witch, her hips swayed as if she wasdancing all the way back to the forest, dragging her next prey intoher cave.

“Whatis the game now?” He asked once they were inside. “Do you need ashower already?”

“No,stupid.” She said before turning her back at him and reclining overthe marble countertop of the double sink cabinet, just to give him abetter look of her ass. Arya looked at him through the mirror andgave a half smile. “I want to get a better look of us as you fuckme good.”

Ohshe wouldn’t have to say it again!

Jongave her ass a good slap and her left shoulder a bite. Arya’s smilegot wider in the mirror as she leaned her body a bit more to give hima better angle.

Heguided his cock inside her deliciously wet cunt. Arya moved her hipsa bit, making it impossible for him to have any other coherentthought. Jon grabbed a handful of her hair before he started to move.Arya had been right, as usual. The image of them fucking like madreflected on the mirror was a true work of art.

Jonmade it slow at first. He wanted to enjoy the view of her boobsshaking as he thrust inside her and savor the moment properly, butArya seemed to be craving for a different kind of game.

“Faster!”She said angrily. “I’m dying here!” He was more than pleased tooblige.

Therhythm got frantic and Arya was so tight that it made it almostimpossible for him to last long. Fifteen minutes was far from beingsomething Jon would label as satisfactiory and he had promised hersomething memorable.

Hisright hand got between her legs to work on her clit once more andArya’s mouth formed a perfect “O” in sign of approval. Jontried to focus on her. Focus in making her cum first. He increasedthe pressure on her clit and pumped his hips against hers evenfaster.

Arya’sright hand reached for the mirror for support as the left arm stoodfirmly over the countertop. She was close, he could tell. Very closein deed. He kept rubbing her clit vigorously until Arys screamedhoarsely and he felt her tightening in a sequence of spasm round hiscock. Jon gave a good look at her face reflected in the mirror beforecumming deep inside her.

Theycouldn’t speak or even breathe properly for a while. When Jonrecovered his senses he gave a step back and let Arya go back to herfeet.

Sheturned around and looked at him like a goddess pleased with anoffering received. She kissed him hard once more before walking outof the bath room to pick up his stained shirt from the floor. Aryasoaked the damn thing in water and had a little soap spread all overit.

“Youknow I don’t care about this shirt, don’t you?” He asked beforegiving her bare ass another smack.

“Youmight not care but, should my mother ask the staff, they will be ableto tell her that I had been trying to wash the wine out of it and ittook me a while to realize it wouldn’t work.” Arya explained witha know-it-all smile.

“Maybewe should just… You know. Come out as a couple already and be donewith it?” Jon suggested while he grabbed his clothes and gotdressed. “Robb will overcome the trauma, eventually.”

“Andmiss all the fun of sneaking into an empty room with you on myuncle’s next marriage?” Arya teased.

“Wecan keep doing it. We would just skip the part in which we pretend tobe just friends. It’s kind of exhausting and I don’t think we areconvincing anyone, by the way.” Jon replied as a matter of fact.“What do you think?”

“Ithink I should find you a clean shirt.” Arya said airily. “But ifthe point of this chat is asking me to be your girlfriend, I think wecan make it official in a month or two. I just broke up with my ex.Let us give my family some breathing space.”

“Deal.”He said it all too pleased with himself before kissing her.

“Weshould go back to the party.” She said.

“Onlyif you promise me we are getting back to the hotel as soon aspossible.” He answered. “I’m not done with you yet, Miss.”

[ginnympotter]

By Light-Years // Chapter 3: Summer

Catch up with chapter 1 & 2 !! also read on AO3!

“Harry, m’boy!”

Harry cringes, and Ginny raises a questioning eyebrow at him. Then he turns and smiles. “Hello, Professor Slughorn.”

“Oh, you don’t need to call me ‘Professor’ anymore, Harry! Horace is fine, just fine.”

“Horace, then. Er, Horace, this is-”

But Slughorn recognizes her as soon as he lays his eyes on her face. “Oho! Ginny Weasley, isn’t it? What an honor, what an honor! Chaser for the Harpies, am I correct?”

“You are,” she smiles.

“I know Gwenog quite well! She’s a very gifted witch.” Slughorn smooths his long mustache and beams at Harry. “Dating your rivals now, are you, Harry? I daresay, the Harpies did seem to give Puddlemore a run for their money this season!”

Ginny smirks triumphantly at her boyfriend, who’s shaking his head. “We had an even record,” Harry remarks.

“Indeed,” Slughorn agrees. “Both beaten out by the Tutshill Tornados, though, eh? Now, listen, Harry. I am in contact with the captain of the Tornados, and I have it in good confidence- although, of course, the press has no idea, and nothing is final yet- that it looks like they will be short of a Seeker by next season’s time if they do not win the national tournament next week! Now, of course, if you were interested, I’d be more than happy to set up a meeting. Top of the league, they are, and I’m sure they’d be more than pleased to consider you for the position!”

Harry’s face is rather flushed as he says, “Thank you Prof- I mean, Horace. But I’m alright where I am now, thanks.”

“Well, if you change your mind, don’t hesitate to send me an owl! Well, I better be heading off, I’m getting drinks with Filius at the Leaky Cauldron...Please tell your mother I said hello! And your father, of course, too. It was lovely meeting you, Ms. Weasley!”

“Pleasure,” she replies kindly, although smiling curiously.

“Bye, Horace.” Harry waves, as Professor Slughorn slowly leaves the shop.

Ginny looks up curiously at Harry, but just in that moment George comes in between them. “Alright, Harry, it’s time to show you our new stocks! Gin, why don’t we show him the new Pygmy Puffs first?”

“The what? ” Harry questions.

Fred chimes in, as George wraps both his arms around the couple. “Harry’s never heard of Arnold?”

“Who’s Arnold?” he asks a bit defensively.

Ginny cackles, then suddenly makes a somber face and closes her eyes. “RIP Arnold, gone too soon.”

“Er,” emits Harry helplessly.

Fred pats him on the back. “We’ve got these cute little fuzzy creatures we’ve bred called Pygmy Puffs. We were out of them when we gave you the tour back in February. Ginny got one back in school, named it Arnold. He passed last year.”

“Gone too soon, indeed,” George echoes. “Too soon to get a new one?”

Ginny nods. “I’m still in mourning.”

“Can’t hurt to look though, can it?” suggests Fred, leading the way. “C’mon, just got a new batch of them.”

“You two sicken me,” an embarrassed Ron scowls as he quickly turns away from Harry and Ginny under the blankets of her childhood bed, with only their undergarments on. “The door has a lock for a reason .”

“You didn’t even knock, you prat!” Ginny points out, unabashed. “We’re in here with the door closed, what must you think is going on? Discussing Quidditch tactics?”

“Give him some credit, Ginny,” Harry injects. “We do discuss Quidditch tactics quite often.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” she sighs. Then she smirks at Harry. “They do make it into the bedroom enough-”

“Oi! I’m still standing here!” Ron proclaims, covering his ears.

“Please leave, then,” Ginny requests politely, though she is doing her best to hold back her anger. “Now, I suggest, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Sorry, mate,” offers Harry quietly, and Ginny can tell he feels a bit uncomfortable.

“Well, at least now I know Ginny was lying about you having a Hungarian Horntail tattooed on your chest.” Ron shakes his head and faces the door. “Still can’t believe my little sister is shagging Harry Potter-”

Ginny groans loudly, grabbing her wand from her bedside table and flicking it in the direction of her brother. “Ouch!” Ron exclaims. “Stinging hex? Really?”

“And close the door on your way out!” Ginny answers, flicking her wand once more. The door snaps shut on top of Ron, and then an extra click indicates the lock being set into place. She sighs, putting her wand back and then returning her gaze to Harry. “Sorry about him. Nosy git.”

Harry laughs, pulling her face back to his. “S’alright,” he murmurs, leaning in and kissing her gently. Ginny indulges for a few moments before she pulls away to ask a question that had been on her mind most of the day.

“Who was that man we met at Fred and George’s?”

Harry lets out a frustrated sigh, one that Ginny has come to recognize as annoyance at having to do anything other than snog her. “Slughorn? He was a teacher of mine. Taught my parents, too. My mum was his favorite student, so he took a liking to me at school.”

“Seemed like an interesting bloke.”

Harry grunts in agreement, trailing his fingers along Ginny’s skin.

“Well connected, too.”

Harry chuckles, kissing her shoulder. “Expert at social networking. Loves to feel like people in power rely on him for advice.”

“You expect what he said about The Tornados is true?”

He shrugs, putting a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Probably.” Ginny makes a face at him. He laughs, imitating her. “What? What’s that face for?”

“And?” she asks curiously. “Would you be interested?”

“You heard what I told Slughorn. I’m happy at Puddlemore. Besides, my contract isn’t up until next year anyway.”

“Contracts can be negotiated,” she reminds him.

Harry raises an eyebrow, putting a hand on her thigh. “You think I should?”

She shrugs, putting her hand on top of his. “I didn’t say that. Just was an interesting prospect...the Tornados have an incredible offensive team. It could be really good for your career.”

Harry doesn’t respond, and instead stares out her window with a pensive look on his face. Ginny touches his face so that he’ll look back at her. “No pressure. Just thought it would be interesting to think about. No worries.”

He nods, and then offers a small smirk. “You should know my ex was a huge Tornados fan. So, that’s just another factor to consider.”

“Probably a bandwagoner,” she responds casually.

Harry snorts. “Ron said the same thing when I mentioned it to him a few months back, but she was actually a long time fan. People used to say that to her and-”

“Harry,” she exhales, incredulously. “You’ve got your half-naked girlfriend right before you, why don’t you quit talking about your ex, eh?”

He squints his eyes at her. “You were the one who brought up-”

But Ginny drags his face down towards hers, kissing him fiercely. He deepens the kiss, moving his hand steadily up her thigh. He then parts his lips from hers slightly to whisper, “You locked that door, right?”

Ginny laughs against his mouth.

Awhile after they finish their resumed activities, they lie in bed, legs intertwined, discussing tomorrow night’s perspective dinner at the Potters, which is a big deal. Sometime in the middle of Harry explaining how Sirius ended up living with his dad when they were teenagers, there’s a loud knock on the door.

“What?” Ginny asks briskly.

“Are you decent yet?” inquires Ron on the other side of the door.

“No, so what do you want?” she shoots back.

“I need Harry’s help,” they hear him say, sounding a bit desperate. "When you're decent, that is."

Harry sits up. “What is it, mate?”

“Hermione,” he answers somberly.

Ginny bites back a laugh and Harry gives a pitiful sigh. “Give me a mo’ to get dressed, alright? I’ll help you out in a sec.”

Ron emits some sort of grunt in agreement, and they hear his footsteps echo away.

Harry kisses Ginny and then stands up to search around for his discarded boxers. Ginny stretches out on the mattress, yawning. “Why’s he need help?” she asks, taking a pillow in as her new cuddle hostage since Harry has been set free. “I know he’s inept with girls, but I thought things were going well with Hermione.”

Harry spots his boxers and slips them on. Then he begins searching for his trousers. “Things aren’t really going at all.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry suddenly laughs, picking up his trousers. “How did these end up under the bed?” he muses, then sits down on the edge of the mattress to put them on. “Anyway, I just mean that nothing has happened between them yet.”

“Nothing?” Ginny repeats. “But it’s been months! Even for Ron, that’s slow.”

“He just doesn’t know how to approach it. Hermione is kind of intimidating,” he tells her. “You know that. But whenever it seems like he might summon the courage, they row. It’s funny, because it’s half flirting, half real bickering. I think I may have made a mistake trying to pair the two of them together.”

“Really?”

Harry zips up his jeans and turns to her. “Nah, not really. I actually think he’s good for Hermione...helps lighten her up. And like I said, their bickering is their form of flirting but...sometimes it’s a real headache.”

“So they’re just mates?” she asks, as Harry moves the pillow out of her arms and momentarily snuggles back into his girlfriend.

“For now. I mean, both of them want more, but they’re both too thick to just get to it already.”

Ginny laughs, kissing Harry’s head. “I think it’s good for Ron, to be mates with a girl before eating her face. Oughta teach him patience.”

Harry buries his face into the crook of Ginny’s neck, sending a pleasant, warm feeling throughout her chest. His breath hot against her skin, he murmurs, “A mere impossible feat, but I think Hermione could pull it off.”

“Maybe we should go on a double date with them, without telling them it’s a double date, but be all coupley around them and leave them alone in close proximity. That kind of stuff.”

“Genius scheme. I like it. We’ll have to flesh out the details later. Really get all the moving parts into the proper places.”

They lie intertwined in comfortable silence for a minute before Ginny asks, “So what exactly does he need your help with now?”

“No idea. Expect I’ll go find out, eh?” He kisses her gently and then smiles. “Now, may I have my shirt back, please?”

Ginny frowns. “No, you may not.”

Harry fakes a sigh, and then says, “Alright, guess I’ll just have to take it off of you myself-”

“No,” Ginny protests, pushing his hands away. “I’m wearing it. Tough.”

Harry shakes his head, his green eyes surveying her. “So you would like me to just go into your family’s kitchen shirtless?”

“I mean, yes, I would like that very much-”

“Gin.”

“Harry.”

This time Harry really does sigh, rolling off her and sitting up again, pulling his socks onto his feet. “Alright, fine. Do you have that t-shirt from the last time I was here? Remember, we were playing Quidditch in the backyard with your brothers and it got full of mud? Your mum insisted on washing it for me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ginny recalls, reclaiming the pillow. “It’s hanging in my closet, I think.”

Harry steps into his trainers and walks over to her closet. Ginny is resting her eyes, still allowing her utter contentment to settle in as Harry rummages through her closet. “Gin, I don’t see it anywhere- Oh, nevermind, it’s on the floor. Must’ve fallen off the hanger-” Unexpectedly, Harry interrupts himself to say “What is this?” Ginny, not bothering to open her eyes, pays no real attention to this. Then, she hears some rustling, and suddenly, Harry erupts into a fit of laughter. Ginny turns over and opens her eyes, wondering what in her closet could possibly-

“No,” she says, sudden realization splashing over her like ice cold water. “No,” she repeats. Harry still guffawing, she clambers out of her bed, almost tripping, running towards him, and with horror her worst fear is confirmed: Harry is holding open a poster of his younger self in Puddlemore Quidditch robes, smiling warily and fidgeting awkwardly. Ginny forces her limbs to move, to try and grasp the poster from Harry, but he holds it away from her, his laughter still echoing around her room. “I cannot believe this.”

Ginny can’t really sort out all of her emotions at once, but she feels her all the blood rushing to her face. “I’m going to obliviate you right now if you don’t put that down and never mention it again for as long as you live-”

“You would deprive me of such flattery? Really, Ginny?” He takes one more look at the poster, lets out a bark of a laugh, and then actually does as she says and drops it. Then, quite suddenly, he is kissing her so passionately that all her thoughts begin to blur, and for a moment Ginny forgets why they’re in her closet. And then she remembers, and pulls away.

Harry tries pulling her back, but she refuses. “This is the most embarrassed I’ve ever been in my poor, pathetic life.”

“What’s there to be embarrassed about?” he asks innocently.

“You’re joking, aren’t you? I have a bloody poster of you hidden in my closet from when I was sixteen! You must think I’m some sort of stalker!”

“Well, I already knew that,” he teases, encircling his arms around her waist. “Ron, Fred and George told me countless times that you were a massive fan. But I, er, thought they were exaggerating, to be honest.”

“I’m going to kill them,” she states, trying to escape, but Harry just pulls her in closer. “Kill them. Azkaban will be worth it.”

“Ginny,” he says, laughter still in his voice. “It’s okay. It’s adorable that you have this...How could I hold it against you? Did you put some spell on poster-me to make real-me fall in love with you?”

“Shut up, of course I didn’t…” she trails off, processing. She feels her throat tighten, but she forces out words anyway. “What did you just say? Did you just say you’re in love with me?”

His cheeks are pink but he beams at her, putting his forehead against hers. “Yes, I suppose I did,” he whispers, before leaning in and kissing her briefly. “But maybe I wasn’t direct enough? I’m in love with you. So stop being so embarrassed, would you? And if it makes you feel better, the only copy of Witch Weekly I’ve ever purchased is the one with you on the cover from August of last year.”

Ginny just stares at him, not really believing what’s happening.

“Gin?”

“Harry Potter just said he’s in love with me.”

��Er, yes, I know, I am him,” he laughs. “Your fan is showing. And for someone who’s such a fan, why were you so short with me those first few times we met? I had such a crush on you and you-”

But Ginny swallows his words in her mouth, kissing him so hard they stumble. Harry laughs against her mouth, re-adjusting his grip on her to steady them. She pulls away, just for the slightest moment, whispers, “I’m in love with you too, if it wasn’t clear,” and then continues to kiss him, melting his laughs into moans.

Ginny’s back is against the closet door frame and Harry’s mouth is against her neck when they hear Ron’s tentative knock. Ginny scowls as Harry pulls away and laughs, raising his voice. “Sorry, sorry, mate!” he shouts apologetically. “Really, I’ll be out in a mo’. Promise.”

“Sure,” they hear Ron snort and walk away again.

“Who are you dating again? Him or me?” Ginny asks, slightly disgruntled but still playful.

Harry smirks, running a hand down her arm. “Why not both?”

She rolls her eyes and pushes him off of her. “Go, before I don’t let you.”

He snickers, pulling her into a hug. “Why don’t you put some pants on and come down with me?” he suggests, rubbing her back. “Need some intel to really make the perfect plan to successfully trap him and Hermione into just getting on with it already.”

“Fine,” she sighs begrudgingly against his chest. He kisses her cheek and releases her, and Ginny is smiling to herself as she walks over to the bed and retrieves her knickers and jeans, putting them back on. As she’s tucking in Harry’s blue t-shirt she stole into her high-waisted jeans, Harry appears in front of her, wearing his red t-shirt from her closet floor. She can’t help but shamelessly admire his physique, his forearms bronze from the summer sun, and the way his t-shirt clings tightly to his chest. And then she gets a good look at his face. He’s got a lopsided smile on, his glasses are a bit crooked, and his emerald eyes are as green as ever. Ginny smiles, adjusting his specs for him. “I like this shirt on you. Brings out your eyes.”

“Thanks,” he says softly, ruffling his hair.

Ginny raises an eyebrow at his sudden change in demeanor. “You alright?”

He nods, laughing lightly. “I’m brilliant. Just...feels good to get that off my chest.” When Ginny’s eyebrow remains raised, Harry laughs again, grabbing her hands. “Feels good to finally tell you that I love you.”

“Oh.” She grasps his hands tightly back. She smiles slyly. “Feels good to finally hear it.”

Harry snorts, and Ginny laughs and adds, “I love you, too. Merlin, you’re right, that feels bloody brilliant to finally say.”

“How long have you been holding it in?”

“How long have you been holding it in?” she fires back.

He kisses her softly. “That’s a confession for another time, love. C’mon, I’m scared if we don’t go down there soon Ron will start having a mental breakdown.”

Ginny concedes, keeping hold of one of Harry’s hands as he reaches for their wands from her bedside table, pocketing his own and holding out Ginny’s wand for her. She takes it and puts it in her own pocket as they leave her room and walk down the staircase to the Burrow’s kitchen.

Ron is sitting there at the table, crumpling up a piece of parchment and throwing it haphazardly aside, grabbing a new piece and placing it beside a letter that must be from Hermione. He turns his head as they approach. “Finally,” he whines.

“Sorry, but I have a good excuse for being late,” Harry assures him.

“I don’t want to hear about it-”

“Trust me,” Harry says, a mischievous smirk on his face, letting go of Ginny’s hand and taking out his wand. “You do.” Ginny peers at Harry curiously as he flicks his wand towards the hallway they just came through. Suddenly, they hear a light zooming noise approaching and growing louder. Harry catches it in his hand just as Ginny realizes what he’s just summoned.

“HARRY-”

“Catch!” Harry warns Ron, as he throws the half-rolled poster towards his friend. Harry locks Ginny in his hold for long enough for Ron to register what he’s seeing, as Ginny lets out a stream of swears at Harry, attempting to reach for her own wand. Ron begins to laugh so hard he falls off his chair, which causes Harry to laugh so hard as well that his grip on Ginny loosens and she makes her escape, whipping her wand out from her pocket and, too fast for them, performs a bat-bogey hex powerful enough to hit the both of them, which immediately kills their laughter. “Tell Fred and George about this and you’ll get much worse than my Bat-Bogey fury.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how well do you think this is going right now?”

“One being the worst, ten being the best?”

“Yeah.”

Ginny contemplates, biting her lip. “A three? Maybe a four.”

Harry snorts. “What do we do?”

“I’m not sure,” she admits quietly, watching Hermione still rummaging through Harry’s fridge, getting butterbeers for herself and Ron. “But he’s got to stop wearing Chudley orange if he wants Hermione to shag him, he looks like a walking cantaloupe slice.”

Harry chokes on his firewhiskey, spluttering, some of it dripping down his chin. Ginny laughs, turning towards him and wiping his face with a napkin muttering, “You’re such a mess, Potter.”

Harry instinctively leans in and kisses Ginny quickly, smiling at her. Just then, Hermione rejoins them at the island in Harry’s kitchen. Hermione lets out a sigh as she places the butterbeer bottles on the table, and they both turn to her. “You two are so sweet together.” Just as she says it, her eyes dart towards Ron, who’s just emerged from the loo.

“Thanks,” says Ginny, noticing that Harry’s cheeks have turned pink. “That could be you and my brother, you know.”

Now Hermione’s cheeks flush, but Ginny doesn’t regret her bluntness because she seems to sit up straighter as Ron approaches them and scoots in next to her, offering a smile as he opens his butterbeer. “Thanks, Hermione,” he says, taking a sip.

“No problem,” she responds weakly, grabbing a chip.

Ginny leans into Harry, puts a hand on his thigh and whispers in his ear, “Should we turn it up a notch?”

Harry clears his throat, pulling at the collar of his shirt, a clear indicator that she’d have to steer this ship all on her own. Ginny laughs. “You’re weak,” she says before turning back to Ron and Hermione, the former giving her an accusatory look.  

“So,” Hermione starts slowly. “Will your parents be at the party tonight, Harry?”

Harry nods, as Ginny sneakily slides her hand further up his thigh. He clears his throat again, Ginny holding back a laugh. “Yeah, yeah they will be,” he confirms.

“Brilliant,” says Ron, tapping his fingers against his butterbeer bottle. “Mum and Dad are excited to see them again. Do you reckon Dad will hound Lily about muggle stuff again?”

“Probably,” Ginny pipes up, and a brilliant thought possesses her. “But he could ask Hermione too, right, seeing as she’s also Muggleborn? You haven’t met our parents yet, have you, Hermione?”

Hermione gives Ginny a pointed look, catching on to what she’s doing. “No, I haven’t.”

“Oh, well, they’ll love you, of course,” Ginny replies. “Won’t they, Ron?”

Ron’s ears turn pink but he nods vehemently, glancing quickly at Hermione. “Definitely. If Dad starts bothering you too much about electricity just give me a warning sign and I’ll save you.”

Hermione chuckles nervously. “Oh, I’m sure I won’t need saving-”

“You might,” says Ginny, emptying her drink. “Besides, Ron needs to be of some use to someone, eh?”

Harry laughs, and Ginny avoids a chip thrown at her by Ron. Hermione, still looking sheepish, takes a large gulp of her butterbeer. “Watch it,” he warns Ginny. “Or I’ll return your birthday gift right now.”

“Only mine? Not Harry’s?” she inquires. “If you didn’t notice, he laughed in agreement. Looks like Hermione is the only one here who finds you of use.”

Hermione glowers at Ginny, who just smiles brightly back. Ron seems to ignore the latter part of her comment, as he just responds by saying, “I can return Harry’s as well.”

“Go ahead, mate,” Harry tells him, grabbing Ginny’s still moving hand on his thigh and grasp it in his own, bringing it to the top of the island, interlacing their fingers. Ginny shakes her head at Harry, disappointed in his refusal to engage in her antics, but then notices Ron quickly glances at Hermione’s limp hand next to her bottle, as though considering holding it. “But you don’t have too much time, the party starts in a quarter an hour.”

“You know what’s wrong with you two having a joint birthday party?” says Ron. “Aside from the fact that it’s a bit gross?”

“It’s not gross, Ron, it makes everyone’s lives easier!” says Ginny indignantly. “Our birthdays are less than a fortnight apart. Having a party in the middle with a date that works for everyone just makes more sense.”

“Yeah, but what if people who are invited by you aren’t invited by Harry? Then they have to give Harry a gift as well so they don’t seem like a git. So essentially, the entire Harpies team is going to have to get Harry gifts and vice versa with Puddlemore and Ginny.”

“No they don’t,” denies Harry. “That’s ridiculous, there’s no obligation to buy a gift for someone you barely know-”

“But it’s insinuated, isn’t it?” Ron fights back, Hermione rolling her eyes.

Hermione interjects finally. “Of course not. No one would ever think either of them would expect something like that.”

“But I had to get them both gifts!” he complains.

“Well, you’re Ginny’s brother and Harry’s mate…” Hermione points out.

“You didn’t have to,” Ginny says, and then takes on Ron’s voice to add, “You just did it so you wouldn’t seem like a git. Well, too late on that one, we already know you are one.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Ron groans as Ginny and Harry high five with their free hands. Then he turns to Hermione. “Did you get a gift for each of them?”

“Of course,” she responds at once. “They’re both my friends.”

“But you’ve only just become close with Ginny recently!” Ron protests. “It’s not as if you were morally obligated like I was!”

“Morally obligated,” huffs Hermione. “It’d just be kind, Ronald.”

In an attempt to mediate the situation, Ginny looks sympathetically at Ron and says, “Don’t worry. How about this, Ron: why don’t you return both mine and Harry’s gifts and use that money to take Hermione out on a proper date. Somewhere nice, mind you.”

Ron’s ears grow an even darker shade and Hermione looks frantic, and the air is uncomfortably heavy as Ron mutters, “Well, I…Er...”

“Well, anyway,” Ginny says casually, letting Hermione and Ron look at each other awkwardly. “I know one person who definitely got Harry a gift but not me.”

Harry looks at her, raising an eyebrow curiously. “Who?”

“Romilda,” she says, taking Harry’s glass and sipping a bit of his firewhiskey.

“Romilda as in Romilda Vane? Your seeker?” Ron asks in surprise.

Harry scoffs. “Come off it, Ginny, she’s not actually going to get me a gift.”

“A love potion, maybe,” contemplates Ginny as she pushes Harry’s glass back towards him. “Or she might just try to spike your drink.”

“Well, if you keep taking sips of my drinks then you’ll get some of that love potion, too.”

“Oi,” she says, letting go of his hand and pinching him. “Maybe I’ll just need to be the keeper of your drinks all night to be sure.”

“You are so-”

“Why would this Romilda girl try to spike Harry with a love potion?” Hermione asks. “And why wouldn’t she get you a gift, Ginny? You’re teammates!”

“Because, she’s obsessed with Harry,” Ginny explains as Harry shakes his head, exasperated. “Should’ve seen her face when she found out we were dating. Priceless. ”

“She’s not obsessed with me,” Harry mutters.

Ron snorts, shaking his head. “Good on you, mate,” he says, clearing his throat, “she’s fit.”

Hermione’s jaw clenches and Ginny blanches. “Harry would never be interested in a Seeker who mistakes a bird for a snitch.”

“That’s true,” says Harry, putting an arm around Ginny. “I’m only interested in Chasers who played Seeker as a second in school. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Who said I was worried?” she asks sharply. “I’m not worried.” She pauses. “Although she may try to imperio you. Maybe we should change you into shield robes that Fred and George make. I’ll floo them-”

“Yeah, you’re not worried at all,” Harry laughs, kissing her temple. Just then, a doe patronus glides through the flat door and stops at Harry. The doe opens her mouth, and out comes Lily’s  voice saying, “We’re ready, love.” Then, she vanishes. Harry smiles and says, “Well, worried or not, it’s time to go.”

“Do you want me to handle it?”

Ginny looks up at Sirius, whose long black hair falls just above the shoulders of his black leather jacket. He is the only one there dressed in Muggle clothes. And although it’s a bit sick to think it, she understands the effect Sirius has on everyone in the room. She sighs in defeat and nods. If anyone can deter Romilda from Harry, Sirius can.

Harry really is trying, she knows. He’s desperately trying, in fact. But his mixture of awkwardness and politeness has him backed against a wall, both literally and figuratively.

“Give it a go, I’m sure you’ll be more successful than I was.”

Sirius pats her on the back, striding forward. “Follow me,” he whispers to her. She obeys, and as they draw closer to her boyfriend and her teammate Sirius says, “Oi, godson!”

Harry looks at Sirius, his eyes pleading. Ginny smiles as he mouths, “Help me.” They approach them and Sirius puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Your mother is requesting your presence with your lovely, charming girlfriend over here. Something about pictures or whatnot. Don’t worry, I’ll keep...Romilda, is it? I’ll keep Romilda busy while you’re gone.”

Harry very audibly sighs in relief, and Ginny holds back a laugh. “Oh, er, thanks, Sirius,” he mutters. He turns to Romilda, “Well, thanks for coming,” he tells her, giving her a weak smile. He holds up a hand as to wave and he moves towards Ginny.

And although Romilda does flash a brief look of interest at Sirius, she’s still watching Harry. And then, startling her, Harry very abruptly grabs Ginny’s face and kisses her full on the mouth enthusiastically. His lips are against hers for much shorter then she’d like, but when he pulls away she catches Romilda’s bright red face, and Sirius’s amused. “C’mon, let’s go,” Harry whispers, almost urgently, and grabs her hand, trying to pull her away.

But Ginny’s feet are still planted in the ground as she says, “Hang on. Sirius, don’t you think that Mrs. Potter is going to want you in the pictures as well?”

Sirius puts a hand on his chin, stroking his scruff. “You know what, that is an excellent point, Ginevra. We don’t want to witness Lily’s wrath. Well, lovely meeting you, Romilda.”

And he walks toward them, patting Harry on the back, leading them away from the scene. Ginny lets out a laugh, squeezing Harry’s hand as he laughs too. “Don’t say you told me so.”

“I won’t say it,” she assures him. “I’ll just tell your mum to make a last minute change and put it on the cake in frosting.”

“Fair deal,” he murmurs, while Sirius lets out a bark of laughter and high-fives Ginny. “I know you lot made that up, but Mum does probably want us to take pictures.”

“You’re probably right,” Sirius remarks. “Why don’t you two go find Hermione and the tall one-”

“Ron,” Harry tells him as Ginny snorts.

“Right,” Sirius says, waving a hand. “And then we’ll just get on with it. I’ll go grab Remus, Tonks, and Teddy.”

Sirius stalks off through the crowd towards the other end of the party hall, where Ginny spots a head of short pink hair. Harry kisses Ginny’s forehead and asks, “Did you see Ron or Hermione while I was trapped?”

Ginny furrows her eyebrows, scanning the room. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen either of them for a bit.”

“Neither have I,” Harry says. “And I’ve been desperately hoping one of them would pass by and be my savior before you two stepped in.”

“Hm. Maybe they’re outside?”

Ginny steers Harry through the tent to its exit. A few people were outside chatting; Fred and George were putting on a show of flinging garden gnomes. Neither Ron nor Hermione in sight, Harry nudges his head towards the back door, suggesting they look inside the Burrow. Ginny pulls open the screen door and Harry searches the kitchen. “Huh,” he grunts.

“Let’s just check the living room, and if we don’t find them there they’ll just have to live with the pain of being left out forever,” Ginny shrugs, and Harry chuckles as they walk towards the living room.

They get to the door and push it open, and there they see them, on the couch: freckled fingers threading through bushy brown hair, Ron’s lips moving furiously over Hermione’s, Hermione’s hands gripping Ron’s orange collar-

They only see it for a millisecond though, because Hermione rips herself away as fast as she can, quickly putting her hands in her lap and avoiding their gaze as Ron sits there, looking quite like a fish out of water.

“Er,” Harry stammers at the same time that Ginny shouts, “FINALLY!”

“Bloody hell,” Ron utters quietly, snapped back into reality, removing his hands from Hermione, his ears quite suddenly scarlet. “What do you want?”

Harry, who appears to be embarrassed by what they’ve just walked in on, starts, “Er, well, we were going to...take pictures...but, er-”

Ginny, not being able to help herself, interrupts her boyfriend. “Don’t worry about it, though. This,” she says, waving her hand around in an oval as to envelop Ron and Hermione, “is much more important than photographs. Yes, please get back to your business, be safe, Harry and I will see you much, much later-”

“No, stop, it’s fine,” says an abashed Hermione quietly, attempting to tame her wild mane. “Let’s take pictures-”

“No, Hermione, we insist,” Ginny says, grasping Harry’s arm and dragging him back out of the living room with her. “We’ll take pictures next year. Cheers!”

[sirius-archive]

9 and 14 with James, maybe the reader is James's younger sister. Bonus: she's been secretly dating Sirius? Love ur fics btw I'm honestly just in awe everytkme I read something u written

I actually don’t like the way this one ended, but it has to end this way, due to the prompts, and it’s 3am and i’m weak. btw this is the longest prompt i’ve ever written, it’s 8 pages long and 2650 words. lol. 

9. “You hurt her, I stab you, okay?” and 14. “Take a deep breath and please calm the fuck down.”

Falling for your brother’s best friend was, perhaps, one of the biggest cliché’s in cliché history. It’s the type of cliché that is recycled as the plot of (most) erotic romance novels for bored, middle-aged witches. And as much as you hated cliché’s, it was your reality.

It started in your fifth year, in the Astronomy tower while a rowdy, victory party raged below you. An innocent kiss, which had led to a passionate make out session, which evolved into a heated shag against the wall, rushed and sweaty and delicious.

Of course, the guilt had harassed you every time you and Sirius met up. But you couldn’t resist him, and it suddenly wasn’t just about the sex anymore. It was secret dates in Hogsmeade and nights spent inside a make-shift pillow fort, sipping fire whiskey and talking about the future. It was cuddles and forehead kisses and tickle wars and picnics beside the Black Lake. He held you like a promise of protection, and Sirius never broke his promises.

It was… beautiful.  

The fear of getting caught intesified, however, when Sirius moved in, because it wasn’t just James anymore, it was your father, too. Father and son are very much alike, much to your dismay. But, for some odd reason, the risk makes everything more exciting.

Just thinking about the nights you spent, tangled with Sirius in an ocean of white sheets and earth-shattering pleasure makes you feel light-headed, and you squeeze your thighs together, the delicious ache between your legs Sirius had left intensifying. His body hovering over you, skin against skin, his lips spilling over your neck, his hands mapping out your curves, pushing in and pulling out rough and hard and fast–

“Good morning, Lulu,” James greets, his childhood nickname for you on his grin. You dispel the images of the previous night as James bends down and kisses the crown of your head. You throw an orange at your affectionate brother and it hits the back of his head. “That’s rude.”

“Well, I am a Potter,” you remark, taking a bite of your pancake.  

“That, you are.”

“Though mummy could have had a steamy, summer love affair with some hunky, young muggle called…Steven”

“Why Steven?” James asks, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth and chewing languidly.

“I don’t know,” you remark, “it was the first name that came to mind…”

“Well, you’re not naming my child,” James remarks, piling his plate with bacon and egg.

“It’s not as bad as – I don’t know – Harry,” you retort, leaning across the table and stabbing a piece of fruit with your fork.

“That’s a fucking awful name,” James cringes, “I quite like the name Elvendork. It’s unisex and very practical…”

“That’s not a name!” you exclaim, “That’s just sounds smashed together.”

Just as you say it, Sirius Black enters the kitchen, the scent of his cologne infusing the air around you. Your heart dances like leaves caught in a summer breeze.

“Morning Prongs,” Sirius nods, before taking a seat beside you, “Morning Minnie.” Your nickname on his lips makes your heart melt through your ribs and pool somewhere in your panties. 

“Mornin’ Padfoot,” James mumbles through a mouthful of food, oblivious to your blushing cheeks, “Wouldcha pass the waffles?”

Sirius grabs the plate of waffles and leans across the table, dropping them in front of James. His arm grazes against yours as he does so, and it leaves invisible scorch marks on your skin.

“So, whats the plan for today?” Sirius asks as he begins to fill his plate with food.

“Well, Moony and Wormtail are coming by today,” James remarks, taking a sip of coffee, “And I think we were going to have a game of Quidditch.”

“Excellent,” Sirius grins, delightedly.

“As long as I’m not on the same team as boof head here, then I’m in,” you quip, tossing a nod in James’ direction.

“Come on, (Y/N),” James whines, “We’re the unstoppable duo. What would Godric Gryffindor say if he knew his star seeker refuses to get along with her Captain?”

“I think he would agree with me once he learned how much of a competitive asshole you are,” you drawl. Sirius snorts, and something about his approval makes your heart swell with pride.

“I’m just passionate.”

“You’re just fanatical,” you snip, “It’s bloody embarrassing.”

“Don’t be afraid to tell us how you really feel,” James drawls, though the corners of his lips are pinched in a loose grin.

“This is somewhat awkward,” Sirius confesses, “Especially when the salt is sitting in the middle of your upcoming family lawsuit.”

“You’ll get use to our bickering,” you smile, passing him the salt “If I don’t stab him with my fork first…”

“Regs – I mean – Regulus and I used to argue all the time…”

You and James shared a furtive glance as Sirius talk a bite out of his toast, his gaze boring holes into the butter dish. Silence hung over the breakfast table, filled only with the scraping of cutlery and the crunch of toast and bacon. An urge to take Sirius’ hand under the table overwhelms you, and you place a hand over his. Sirius shoots you a grateful glance, eyes brimming with grey melancholy.

“Anyway, Pads” James says, his voice rippling through the silence. You jerk your hand away from Sirius, “What do you think of the name Elevendork?”

“Ah, good name. It’s unisex,” Sirius grins and you face palm.

“Neither of you are naming my child,” you grumble, and hearty laughter bubbles in the air.

“Alright, that’s it, I’m having a break,” you announce, throwing your broomstick on your shoulder and pacing away. James zooms down and staggers to the ground, his hair windswept and eyes bright.

“Potters don’t have breaks,” James snaps, chasing after you, “Come on, team Potter is on a winning streak.”

“James, you are pathetic,” you drawl, “I’m starving and I have to pee.”

“Yeah, Prongs, it’s not as though this is the Quidditch World Cup,” Remus adds, catching up to the two of you, “It’s your backyard for Merlin’s sake.”

“It’s still Quidditch,” James snips, causing both you and Remus to roll your eyes.

“This is why I’m not on the Gryffindor Quidditch team,” Remus mumbles, stabbing a thumb in James’ direction. You stifle a snigger.

“Giving up already?” Sirius calls after you, “We’re just getting started.”

“No wonder you’re playing so poorly,” you remark, spinning around to face him and walking backwards, “Honestly, my grandmother could play better than you and she’s dead.”

Remus barks a laugh and awards you with a fist pump.

“Aw, that’s cute,” Sirius grins, jogging up beside you. “Pretending to act like you weren’t distracted out there is so sweet.”

Heat tickles your cheeks and you spin around, curtaining your blushing cheeks with your hair. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah, what are you talking about, Pads?” James inquires, brow raised suspiciously.

“I’m just saying, there were plenty of opportunities for Minnie to catch the snitch, yet she seemed…distracted.”

Sirius was right. Your focus had been lingering between Sirius and the lean muscles flexing beneath his Quidditch shirt. Sirius seemed to be giving you a knowing grin and you averted your gaze, staring at the ground.

“Hey, can you guys wait up,” a flustered Peter pants, trailing behind the four of you.

“Sorry, Wormy,” James drops his pace, walking beside Peter while you and Remus walk ahead. Sirius sends you a flirtatious wink before joining Peter and James, and your cheeks flare as you and Remus pace toward your house.

“You know I hate to say it but…Sirius is right,” Remus mumbles.

“I wasn’t distracted,” you say, brashly, “I was just waiting for the right opportunity.”

“Uh-huh,” Remus nods, “Like how you’re ‘waiting for the right opportunity’ to tell James about you and Sirius.” You gape at Remus and the sandy-haired boy chortles, shaking his head, “I may hang around idiots but that doesn’t mean that I am one…”

“How long have you known?” you ask, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“That doesn’t matter,” Remus smiles, batting the question away as though it had materialized in front of him, “What matters is that you’re honest about your feelings. For James’ sake.”

You sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “You’re right. Dammit, Remus, I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know,” Remus grins, proudly, “You also love it, though.”

You shake your head and jab him playfully in the ribs, “Yeah. I do.”

Remus and Peter had left after dinner, but the formers words hadn’t left you at all. He was right, after all. You have to be honest and clear. It’s the least James deserves.  

Swinging on the swing strung on the large sycamore tree behind your house, you feel the summer breeze tickle your cheeks and filter through your hair as you try to figure out what to say. A lot had happened on this swing, which was large enough to occupy two people. But this was your spot of thought and contemplation.

Before you can string together a proper sentence, however, you hear familiar footsteps approach you, and then his voice fills the night air.

“Looks like you could use some company…”  

You regard him over your shoulder, “What makes you think I’ll want yours, Sirius Black?”

Sirius sinks into spot beside you. “Don’t know, really. I just have this gut feeling that you do.”

You laugh, trying to ignore the heat radiating from Sirius onto you. Your bare thigh brushes against his, igniting sparks beneath your skin.

“Is it the same gut feeling that lands you in detention all the time?” you quip. Sirius chortles.

“Nah,” he murmurs after a beat of silence, “It’s better.”

You feel his gaze sweep over you and you suddenly feel self-conscious of every centimeter of skin on your body. You wish you had chosen a prettier sundress, or slapped on more make-up.

“What is it like?” you whisper, daring to look into Sirius’ eyes.

Sirius raises a hand and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers trace your jaw and travel down your neck, wrapping around your pulse point. “It’s like…fireworks or Butterflies, flying in formation. And it always happens when I’m around you.”

“Sirius…” you whisper, “we have to tell James.”

Sirius nods, his thumb gently dragging across your throat. “I know.”

You see the guilt flicker across his handsome features, and something chews away in your chest. This is just as hard for him as it is for you, you can tell. But if James truly loves both of you, he will understand that this is so much more than chemical lust. It’s love. Strange and magical and beautiful. It’s you and Sirius, sitting on your swing, bathing in moonlight and basking in the glow of one million stars.  

Leaning forward, you press your lips to Sirius in a languid kiss, your lips whispering how much you love him. Sirius kisses back, his other hand moving to cup your cheek before wrapping around tendrils of your hair. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed him, but every time your lips meet, it’s like he’s igniting every dying star inside your soul, sparking every flame into a wild fire, and he burns but you love it.

When you break away, Sirius plants a tender kiss to your forehead and you rest your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you protectively. Both of you fail to notice that you’re no longer alone, and it’s only when someone clears their throat that the two of you leap apart, jumping from the swing and spinning around.

“By all means, snog in front of me like I don’t exist,” James drawls, his face contorted into what looks like a cringe and a grimace. But there’s a fire in his eyes that is only lit by rage, and it swallows you up in hazel flames.

“James,” You murmur, “Please, listen to me…”

“My best friend is snogging my little sister and I’m supposed to just listen to you,” James growls, moving toward Sirius. Sirius steps back but James keeps charging toward him. You step between them, pushing a gentle hand against James’ chest.

“James, take a deep breath and please calm the fuck down.”

“Calm down?!” James roars, “Calm down?! Are you really going to tell me that?”

“James, please.”

James’ eyes dart between the two of you before he rakes a hand through his hair.  

“My sister and my best friend,” he mutters, repeatedly, as he begins to pace back and forth. “How long? How long have you been shagging my sister?”

“It doesn’t matter, James.” Sirius says, his voice steady but his eyes pleading.

“Yes, I think it does fucking matter!” James snarls, voice venomous and low.

“No, it doesn’t. Because I love your sister, James. I love her. I always have, and I always will.” Sirius snaps, but there is no anger in his voice, “She gives me purpose and hope and I’ve never been more happy in my life. I fucking love your sister, James, and I will sell my soul for her happiness without a hint of hesitation.”

Unshed tears glisten in your eyes as you gaze at Sirius, and his hand moves to cup your own, holding it flat against his chest.

“You mean everything to me, (Y/N). I love you more than those three words could ever mean. I love you. Just you. Always you.”

“I love you too, Sirius,” you whisper, biting down on your bottom lip, “I love you so much.”

Moving toward Sirius, you throw your arms around him and capture him in a warm embrace. He buries his face in your neck and you press a gentle kiss to his neck and it’s beautiful, it’s perfect, it’s real.

And it’s in front of James.

You break apart slowly, before turning to James, whose face in unreadable. You gaze at James, begging him for his blessing, because as much as you love Sirius, James is your brother and you love him, even when you think you hate him.

“You…You love him?” James murmurs. You nod fervently and take Sirius’ hand. James’ eyes flick toward Sirius. “You love her?”

“More than anything.”

There is another still silence, in which the tension threatens to bury you alive. James’ hands tear through his hair again before a laugh of disbelief leaves his lips.

“My sister and my best friend,” he mutters, and then a flicker of a smile crosses his lips, “My sister and my best friend!”

Unbelievably, amazingly, James is grinning, and it’s such a dramatic change in mood, you have to blink several times to believe it.

“My sister and my best friend!” James steps forward and slaps a hand on Sirius shoulder, beaming at the two of you.

“So…y–you’re not mad anymore?” Sirius stammers, hardly able to believe it himself, “We’re still…friends?”

“It’s going to be…weird…and I’m still angry that you kept this a secret from me but…my sister and my best friend.” James smiles, before adding more seriously, “You hurt her, I stab you, okay?”

Sirius gulps thickly, “I – er – believe you.”

James nods, before a grin tickles his lips and he beams at the two of you. You take Sirius’ hand, interlace your fingers with his, and you smile because this is okay now, no more secrecy, no more sneaking around, this is real and this is okay.

It’s cliché, but you don’t care anymore. Fuck clichés. This is love, and it’s real.

Friends fans will understand what i did there ;) also, yeah, i’m not super proud of James’ reaction in this, but it has to be this way so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

no more prompts please

[carry-on-kissing-snowbaz]

What Do You Want? (COC Day 17)

Day 17: WLW 

Woo-hoo! I’ve been looking forward to this fic prompt. I hope you enjoy this eighth year fic about Fiona and Ebb. @carryon-countdown

My other COC fics can be found here: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Word Count: 2244

Ebb

Ebb shook out her chin length blonde hair and chuckled as she watched Fiona smack Nico with her cauldron. It was a large and heavy thing and Ebb could almost feel how much it hurt her brother, his matching blue eyes wincing with every hit. He must have done something to piss Fiona off; Ebb had noticed he had the tendency to do so, and to do it often. And while it made her sad for Fiona, it was always fun to watch the consequences play out.

Fiona drifted over towards Ebb and sat down, glaring at Nico hard enough that he didn’t try to join them.

“Cigarette?” she asked Ebb, pulling one out for herself.

Ebb shook her head.

“No thanks,” she said.

Fiona snorted.

“You’re such a fucking straight-edge Ebb,” she kicked off her docs and sunk her sock covered feet into the grass, “When are you going to loosen up a little and take what you want?”

Ebb’s gaze flickered over Fiona’s face.

The problem was that Ebb wanted Fiona and she knew she could never have what she wanted. Fiona was her brother’s girlfriend, on and off sure but still, his girlfriend. And he was Ebb’s twin brother. You couldn’t just make a move on your twin brother’s girlfriend. Besides, Fiona would probably never think of Ebb that way. She was a famous Pitch and a dangerous one at that and Ebb was, well, she might be powerful but she wasn’t much else.

“I don’t know,” Ebb said, “Probably when I graduate.”

Fiona rolled her eyes.

“You don’t have to listen to your parents Ebb, not forever at least.”

Ebb snorted.

“You think it’s stupid for me to waste my power too,” she said.

Fiona eyed her. There was something in her expression that made Ebb’s heart flutter a little bit.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Fiona muttered, “Maybe I’m just jealous. My sister is more powerful than me and I’d do anything to be just like her.”

Ebb shrugged.

“She has a goal in mind for her power,” she said, “I don’t. I just want a cozy farm. Maybe I’ll...raise goats or something.”

Fiona raised an eyebrow and grinned at her.

“Goats eh?” she said.

Ebb nodded, blushing.

Something warm swept into Fiona’s grey eyes and she smiled one of her most dangerous smiles.

“I could get on with goats I think,” she said.

Fiona

She was done with Nico. This time she knew it for sure. He’d gone and cheated on her again and she wasn’t even mad this time, hadn’t been truly mad about his bullshit for a long time. She was just tired and altogether over him. It was better to be Nico’s friend than his girlfriend; she’d learned that the hard way.

It had been two weeks since the break up and she’d only just started to hang out with him again. He was fine with the situation, it seemed he too had come to his senses about their relationship. It was comfortable enough to hangout at lunch but Fiona suspected that was mostly due to Ebb. The girl who made Fiona’s heart flutter in ways it shouldn’t, given that she was her ex’s sister. Twin sister at that.

While Nico was setting plants on fire Ebb was helping Fiona study for her Political Science class. She was quizzing her on different vocabulary terms and concepts with Normal flash cards. She claimed they were more helpful than any sort of magic cheat would be though Fiona was a little skeptical about it.

“I don’t get it,” Fiona said.

Ebb looked up, confused.

“Don’t get what?” she asked.

Fiona frowned, not angry or passionate, but genuinely confused.

“Why do low magic people want to come to Watford? A half mage half fairy would probably struggle to pass most of their classes. Wouldn’t it just be a hassle? I just don’t see why this is such a political controversy.”

Ebb looked at her hand.

“Are you talking about that David fellow?”

Fiona nodded.

“He got brought up in class again today.”

Ebb pursed her lips and looked like she was really thinking about what she was going to say. When she got that faraway look in her bright blue eyes it always made Fiona shiver a bit. Nico could never make that expression, alternating between brooding and seducing. It was one of the reasons Fiona had developed a crush on Ebb.

“I don’t like that David much,” Ebb said, after a while, “I get this bad feeling from him, like he’s the power hungry type. But I agree with his platform.”

Fiona blinked in surprise.

“You do?” she asked, “I thought with you being so powerful and all that you’d be steadfast against it.”

Ebb sighed.

“But I don’t want all that power, do I? So if that’s the case, don’t you think it’s possible that someone with low magic might want to come here and get better?”

Fiona could see how it made sense.

“Yes but,” she paused, “The tax proposals would drain us dry.”

Ebb shook her head.

“No, they wouldn’t if everyone would just get on board,” she said, “Normal governments fund all sorts of education programs like that. It can work.”

Fiona felt a burst of warmth in her chest as she watched Ebb’s face twist with conviction. She loved the way that Ebb could get so passionate about things. Fiona was almost certain that she’d never cared about something as much as Ebb did. 

“I guess you’re right,” Fiona said.

Ebb’s gaze swung back to hers.

“You…agree with me?”

Fiona took a snapping bite of her licorice.

“Yeah,” Fiona said, “You made a good case for it.”

Ebb frowned.

“But you’re a Pitch. Isn’t it like, mandatory or something that you want to keep magic for the powerful and elite?”

Fiona snorted.

“Have I ever done something simply because my family expected it of me?”

Ebb smiled, her eyes warm.

“No,” she said, “You do what you want.”

Fiona’s eyes flickered over Ebb’s smiling mouth.

“Damn straight I do,” she said.

Ebb

Nico sat across from her in the dining hall, glaring at her. Ebb tried to ignore his staring but knew she would cave soon. It was almost like she could read her brother’s thoughts, feel the same things he felt, which meant she knew he was anxious to shake something out of her.

“What Nico?” she grumbled.

“You’re keeping something from me,” he said, “And it’s not fair.”

She looked up at him and was relieved to see that he was pouting. His silvery blonde hair was ruffled and messy, just the way he liked it and his blue eyes were irritated but not furious. She could deal with this level of Nico.

“What do you mean it’s not fair?” she asked.

He rolled his eyes.

“When I fell for that girl you had a crush on in third year I told you right away.”

“So?”

“So,” he said, “You’ve had the hots for Fiona for like, months now, and you haven’t said a word to me.”

Ebb’s mouth fell open and all the blood in her body rushed to her cheeks.

“I do not,” she said.

He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yes you do,” he said, “And if you can’t even admit it to me then you’ll never have the guts to make a move.”

Ebb bit her lip.

“I’m sorry I just…I felt guilty. She’s your ex-girlfriend, more so than any of the other girls you’ve shagged. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He shrugged.

“You’re a hell of a lot better for her than I am,” he said, “You’d be able to give her more than I ever could. All I’m good for is sex and cheap alcohol.”

Ebb winced.

“You don’t need to remind me.”

Nico huffed.

“Look Ebb,” he said, “Me and Fiona shouldn’t have ever tried to go out. We never really felt a burning passion for each other. We were just friends and we looked good together. Plus I pissed off her father.”

She glared.

“What’s your point?” 

He took her hand.

“She was just a high school girlfriend. It doesn’t have to be weird.”

“She dated my brother,” she said, flatly.

“We mostly fought,” he said, “So just don’t make it awkward. And for once in your life just go after what you want.”

She shook her head, twisting her hair around her finger tightly.

“She might not even be into girls,” she said.

He looked away.

“I’m not going to out her Ebb. But I say you just take a chance.”

Ebb clenched her jaw.

“It’s not so easy…this isn’t just some girl I want to snog a few times by the pitch. I want…to be her girlfriend.”

He shrugged.

“And I’ll support you through and through. But you’re the only one who can make the first move.”

Ebb thought about that and squeezed her nails into her palms until it hurt a little. 

“All right,” she said.

He grinned at her.

“All right,” he said.

Fiona

She was sitting on a hill, watching Ebb play with a stray cat. Ebb had asked her to hang out which wasn’t very strange but she’d been quiet the whole time, which was strange. Usually she liked to fill Fiona in on her classes or the girls she’d kissed that week.

Ebb had kissed a lot of girls.

And Fiona could see how. She was just as tall as her brother and her silvery blonde hair looked liked a crown around her face. Plus her blue eyes were as bright as the ocean. 

Fiona couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy whenever Ebb brought the other girls up. Which was stupid because it had been her own fault. She probably could have gone after Ebb and had her for however long Ebb usually stuck around for. But she’d gone after Nico instead, thinking his wild tendencies better suited her own. She’d been stupid to think that in the end, it just made them clash more, being as similar as they were. The more she’d gotten to know Ebb the more she’d wished she had asked her out instead of Nico.

It wasn’t common knowledge that Fiona was bi, but she didn’t hide it either, Sometimes she’d hoped that Ebb would figure it out and make a move. But then she’d scold herself for being so awful. Ebb would never do something like that to her brother.

It had been frustrating though since Fiona and Nico had broken up. Somehow, being single made it worse to watch Ebb flirt with girls on campus. And they ate it up, Ebb was just so damn likable and so attractive. Fiona wondered how many other girls Ebb had told about her dream of raising goats. Maybe it was one of her best pick up lines.

As much as she wanted Ebb, she didn’t want to be a fling, so she’d held back from making any moves of her own.

“What did you need to talk to me about?” Fiona asked.

She wondered if Nico had sent Ebb to tell her something for him. He did that, sometimes, when he was feeling especially cowardly.

Ebb’s face got tight and anxious.

“I uh, well I have a confession to make.”

Fiona lay back in the grass and closed her eyes.

“All right,” she said, “Get on with it.”

She didn’t move or flinch when Ebb settled beside her, their arms touching. They did this sort of thing all of the time.

“I just wanted you to know that I have it bad for you,” Ebb said, practically whispering, “Like real bad.”

Fiona’s eyes snapped open and she turned in the grass to look at Ebb.

“Are you serious?”

Ebb opened her eyes and nodded, head bouncing in the grass.

“Yeah,” she said, “And if you feel the same way well, I wondered if you’d want to be my girlfriend?”

Fiona couldn't believe what she was hearing. She’d always thought that if Ebb made a move on her it would be a fleeting one. She was the queen of hook ups. But now Ebb was asking for a full blown committed relationship. Excitement zipped through Fiona’s nerves and made her fidget.

“I um,” Fiona giggled, “Yeah. I do.”

Ebb’s eyes went wide.

“You do?” she asked, voice surprised.

Fiona leaned back down on the grass.

“Don’t act so surprised,” she said, “You’ve made out with half the girls in our class.”

Ebb nudged closer.

“But not with you,” she whispered.

Fiona closed the rest of the distance and kissed Ebb.

It was nothing like she’d expected it would be. There was none of the flirtation or teasing that usually accompanied Ebb’s conquests and not soft or anxious either, like she acted when it was just Fiona and Nico around. Ebb’s kisses were intense, deliberate, and demanding. Fiona couldn’t help but get pulled into the rhythm of it, twisting her hands into Ebb’s hair and pressing her back into the grass.

They broke apart, breath shaky.

“Nico is going to give us so much shit when he sees the grass stains,” Ebb said.

Fiona laughed.

“Believe it or not, I don’t really give a fuck.”

They laughed for a bit and then Natasha went back to kissing Ebb. Kissing her girlfriend she thought happily.

She was so happy Ebb had finally gone after what she wanted.

[peaky-yamyam]

Twenty-One: Part Fifteen (the second bit)

Part One | Part Fifteen (the first bit) | Part Fifteen (the second bit) | Part Sixteen |

Florrie 

Here goes.

I take a deep breath and imagine Emilia, stoney faced and miserable sat in her office as she watches the renovation works take place, I remember the promise I made to her that I had a plan, how happy I know she could be if this all works out, and I conjure back the confidence that so often lands me in trouble.

“I just wanted to say that you shouldn’t give up on her,” I open with. I can tell when Alfie stills that that wasn’t the direction he was expecting the conversation to go and I smile. “She’s really beating herself up about Saturday, but she’s too polite to call you or come see you-”

“Unlike you.”

“Unlike me yes, but if you called her I know she’d speak to you.”

“Florence, I know that she’ll have told you what happened, probably a few seconds after I left the club on Saturday, am I right?”

“Yes...”

“So you understand then, that it weren’t me who said anything. If she wants to speak to me then she will.” He glances up at me and registers the fact that I’m not moving. “But I’m sure you’ve got a little speech prepared ain’t you? One that you’re adamant I’m going to hear before you leave, yeah?”

“Well I wouldn’t say it’s a little speech…”

“Best get started then love, I’m a busy man,” he prompts, although he turns his attention back to the book.

“Okay. Right, well… She’s my best friend, in fact, she’s more than that, she’s like a sister to me and I know her. I know what she’s like more than she does sometimes and she’s just scared. I understand that she’s blowing hot and cold but I promise you she’s not just some hotsy-totsy who’s trying to keep you on your toes, she just honestly has no idea what she’s doing and because she can’t write this out in her little book and solve it, she’s panicked. You know about her brothers?” I figure I should throw a question in there just to make sure he’s listening.

“I do yes,” he replies, finally tearing his eyes away from the book for more than a second.

“Did you know they were close?”

“I did assume from the way she spoke about them, yes.”

“Right well, in the space of eighteen months she lost all four of them and a few months later when the war ended her mum and dad couldn’t cope at all. I know she likes to make out that she got this job because she wanted independence, but I’m not stupid - I know how difficult it is to survive on savings - and at least my mum and I had my father’s pension and one less mouth to feed - she got this job because her and her family were desperate.”

Alfie’s propped his elbow on his leg and is rolling his finger rhythmically over his thumb. There’s something in his eyes though that tells me knew all this already and a pang of jealousy stabs at my chest at the thought of Emilia sharing this all with him and not me.

I ignore it. That’s something to deal with later.

“As much as I appreciate the history lesson, how does this have anything to do with what’s happening now?” Alfie asks, taking advantage of my distraction to butt in.

“Because that’s the root of the problem ain’t it? Just because she can talk about her brothers and reminisce without getting upset doesn’t mean she’s over it, she’s just spent the last four years suppressing it all so she can carry her family through it. But now it’s coming back to bite her in her pretty little arse, because as soon as something happens that she can’t control, or plan for, or predict every tiny detail of, she casts a kitten and we get this fucking freak out.”

“And how have you come to know all this ey? I know I ain’t some expert on her, but she don’t particularly seem like the type of lass what is overly keen to share.”

“I told you, I know her. And I got her zozzled one night and outright asked her why she has to control everything. Then I spent the next three hours trying to calm her back down…” Alfie nods slowly, filing that piece of information away for a future date. “I just wanted you to understand a bit more about why she’s being the way she is and to ask you to give her a chance. She’s clever and funny and kind. Right? She’s loyal and kind hearted and a superb business woman with her head, mostly, screwed on and she’s fucking gorgeous, so just don’t give up on her… yet.”

Alfie swings his legs from the desk, sitting himself up straight and drops his glasses round his neck. I try not to giggle at the fact they’re on a chain.

A fucking chain!

He closes the book in his lap and very deliberately slides it onto the table so I catch the title printed down the spine: The Romance of Abelard and Heloise. It’s then that I notice the other books on his desk; a collection of Austen novels, Wuthering Heights, Les Miserables, all of the romantic shit Emilia endlessly tries to force on me.

I groan.

“Did Emilia tell you to read that?” I ask, pointing to the book.

Alfie picks it back up and rotates it over in his hand, “This? Yeah, we had a good old chat about it when we went out.”

“You were never planning on blowing this all off were you?” I say, lips pulled tight as he drops the book back down.

“Why would I? She’s clever and funny and kind and you’re right, she is fucking gorgeous, I’d be some kind of fool if I ran off with my tail between my legs now wouldn’t I? But I appreciate you confirming my suspicions.”

“You know, you could have started with that, saved us both a bit of time?”

“And where would be the fun in that?” he replies with a smirk.

“Right, well… I should be going, goodbye Alfie,” I say, pushing myself from the chair, unsure whether I’m glad of the outcome, irritated, or a bit of both.

“Shalom… Oh and Florence?” Alfie calls as I reach the door. “You’re involved now, in everything. Although I’m sure you realised that when you started shagging Ollie…”

“Oh shit,” I whisper, my stomach dropping as I realise Ollie is going to be so disappointed that his discreteness hasn’t been up to par.

“Yes… yes, neither of you are particularly subtle shall we say, not the most aware of your surroundings,” he teases scratching at his beard with one hand.

“Sorry Alfie,” I reply, but I can tell by his slight smile that he wasn’t hinting for an apology. “But don’t tell him or Emilia you know, please.”

“Just don’t you go corrupting him with your wanton ways, he’s only little.”

I raise an eyebrow and bite my lip, desperately trying to suppress the need to make a joke about Ollie’s dick.

“Well, I don’t think I can make you any promises about that Alfie.”

“Just get out my bakery woman,” he says with a smile, shooing me back towards the door. “And leave Ollie where he is, you hear me? Or we are going to fall out… Oh, and make sure Emilia actually brings the money from the tills on Saturday, yeah,” he adds, just as I’m about to twist the handle, “I’ve got a surprise for her.”

[thatchick147]

Memory #6 or Weasley Boys Be Ruining the Yule Ball Huh?

So for set up: all of these memories (aside from 1) happen before the Yule ball

So basically, I was ignoring Fredrick. For a good reason. I was also pretty upset with George, just because he wasn’t really on my side even if he wasn’t on Fred’s. It’s still his brother, and his twin so that’s a first priority and I get that so I hadn’t been around them and as much as I was still like, romantic with George it was waaay less. No kissing but still hand holding and sitting together sometimes.

Fred had tried to talk to me and it went something like “I’m sorry!”

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it Fredrick! You said I was just a shag, and I expect better than that considering how you said you loved me but I guess not since everyone still thinks you’ve got the hots for Angelina! So how about this, you ask her to the ball, George can ask some other girl and I’ll ask someone. Then we can all have a nice night, and I don’t have to be called the Weasley Twins Chew Toy for a night!”

I ended up asking Draco

“Please! I know you don’t wanna go with Pansy, and you weren’t gonna ask anyone else. It’ll be fun with me please Draco! I don’t wanna go alone.”

“Didn’t Cassius ask you?”

“Yes but I told him no because first off I can’t do the couples dance and second I thought I’d be going with one of the twins and now he’s got a date, and I want to go with you.”

“To make them jealous?”

“No, because I genuinely want to have a good time and I know I will with you, please? You’ll look so cool going with someone older!”

“Fine, but you’d better look good and I’d better have a good time”

“Yess!”

Fast track to me getting ready with my twins A&A, Hermoine and Ginny in the Gryffindor tower, no one knows what my dress looks like or who I’m going with cause it’s a surprise.

I come down, Fred and George and everyone really is speechless because I didn’t really get dressed up ever. Comfort is key when saving the world!

Fred and George were absolutely furious when I brushed past them to greet an equally speechless Draco Malfoy, who looped his arm in mine and guided me into the great hall.

Fred ignored Angelina most of the night, only really doing the first couple dances with her and being spaced out as hell.

George meanwhile was having a nice time with his date, platonically of course. He actually came and danced with me at some point because I wasn’t furious with him.

I also saved a dance for Cassius, since he basically begged me to dance with him.

I was having a great night with Draco, lots of laughter on both ends, which no one expected, but even he had to admit he had a great night.

I had stepped outside for some fresh air and to see the snow when things went sideways.

Fred followed me outside and it started out nice, joking even, but it got nasty rather quickly.

F: You look beautiful

M: Thank you, you look pretty handsome. It’s a shame you’re such a twat really.

F: If I’m a test then why do you call your date?

M: Kind, and I don’t see why it’s a problem. You’re the one that brought this upon yourself.

F: I know! But of all the people, Draco Malfoy? He’ll be a death eater as soon as You Know Who comes back and they ask him to!

M: Fred you shut your mouth right now! He’s just a boy!

F: Yeah, but you know he’s gonna end up just like his father! He’s a Malfoy for Merlin’s sake!

M: That is enough Fred! Not everybody gets to choose what side of this war they end up on!Not everyone has the luxury of having Molly and Arthur Weasley as parents!

F: Don’t tell me you feel bad for him! He’s been nothing but a git to all of us since he his first year!

M: Fred, let go of me, or so help me I will punch you in the neck.

F: What’s he said then, he tell you he thought you were pretty and then try and snog ya? Maybe everyone’s right saying you’re a slag.

I don’t know if you’ve ever slapped someone across the face, but if you hit them hard enough, you leave a nice red print in the shape of a hand. You’ll feel the throbbing in yours, but usually it’s well deserved. Just like this was.

M: I wish I could say I hated you Fred Weasley. I wish it so bad, because you are nothing but an arrogant jackass, I am not your toy and if I had chosen to snog Malfoy. Which I did not. It’s my business, because as I recall, you didn’t want me. I spoke with Draco, and I listened to him, because he listened to me when I meeded a friend. This war that’s coming isn’t just about the easy choices Fred, not all of us get to make easy choices like you. There’s so much coming that you can’t imagine, and I am trying to keep you safe but you’re making it very hard to be on your side. Very hard. I am doing my best, and I just want to love you, but you keep making mistakes that hurt me.

I left, I left and found Draco, telling him I was tired and was going to sleep. I couldn’t tell him what had really happened. Not tonight. I just wanted him to remember a good, happy night, maybe that would help when things got bad for him.

I too was very upset when this memory surfaced, especially when I had gotten the one of him in the GH confessing his love.

Listen. I be on my bullshit with the whole reality shifting thing, and I need a place to share because I’m tired of my friends looking at me like I’m crazy. So this will be where I chronical that stuff!

[toyboy-molloy]

From 100 Ways To Say I Love You, #63 would be an awesome ficlet. Thank you!

some kid!lock fluff for you…I hope it’s up to standard ;)

63. “Cross my heart and hope todie.”

Sherlock hugged his knees to his chest, peering throughthe tiny gap his hiding space had provided him with. Heavy footsteps waltzedpast, unknowing of his position; he held his breath out of fear he’d bediscovered. His heart pounded in his chest until the footsteps faded into thebackground and he was alone. He didn’t dare retreat from the safety of thecupboard, even if he was surrounded by deafening silence. Crouching in thetight space was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable and Sherlock was justthinking about shifting his stance when the door swung open.

“Found you!”

“Not fair,” Sherlock whined as he extracted himself fromthe empty cabinet in the parlour of his parent’s country home. He looked up intothe smugly triumphant face of Molly Hooper, his best friend and worst nightmarerolled into one. He folded his arms, pouting for England, “you cheated.”

“How did I cheat?” She giggled, tucking her hair behindher ear, “your Mummy said we could only play in a few rooms because of yourbrother’s meeting thing-”

“Stupid Mycroft,” Sherlock muttered, still pouting. Mollynudged him.

“My turn.”

“I don’t wanna play anymore,” the young boy said with asigh, taking Molly’s hand. He started to lead her out of the room, “we can doan experiment in my room. Stay away from the old people.”

Sherlock and Molly had been friends for almost three yearsnow, having spent their time in pre-school virtually inseparable. It was on hismother’s advice that he invite her over to play that evening, only to be toldMycroft was hosting a spontaneous dinner party to brown-nose his prospectiveuniversity professors. As a result, the six-year-olds were given strictinstructions the evening was not to be disturbed under any circumstances. They’dreached the foot of the staircase when the door leading to the dining hallopened and Sherlock’s father hurried out, clutching a glass of whiskey.

“I swear if I have to listen to one more anecdote about yachts…”he spotted the children, then, giving them a tired smile. “Hi, Molly…are youhaving a nice time?”

Molly nodded shyly, “yes, s-sir.”

“Where are you two off to?”

“I’m going to show Molly my new microscope,” Sherlockexplained excitedly, squeezing his friend’s hand, “it’s got this really cool-”

“Oh, sorry, son…” Mr Holmes interrupted, shiftingawkwardly on his feet, “Mycroft’s guests have put their coats in your room fornow.”

“But…what about the coat cupboard?” The young boy asked,confused; he never once let go of Molly’s hand. His father rolled his eyes, wavinghis free hand about.

“Something about damp. I don’t know…old fuddy duddies thelot of them,” he was beginning to grow tired of sucking up to his eldest son’stutors. Especially when his youngest looked so upset.

“Well, what are we supposed to do?”

Mr. Holmes sighed, already backing up towards the door he’demerged from, “just…go to the treehouse for now. I’ll bring you some food soon.I’d better get back.”

He was gone in an instant. Reluctantly, Sherlock and Mollytrudged off to his old treehouse which now contained nothing but a few brokentoys, old experiments and out of date books and equipment. Even the telescopehis parents had installed for him was beginning to show its age. An old recordplayer sat in the corner, virtually unused. Nevertheless, the children spreadout on the blanket, staring up at the worn bee paintings on the ceiling. Mollyhad always liked his treehouse; it was a peaceful escape in such a busyhousehold.

“Do you think we’ll get married one day?”

Molly glanced at her friend; his eyes were fixed firmly onthe ceiling but she could tell he was nervous. She shrugged, “yeah, maybe. He hasto like science, though. I might even invite you if you’re lucky.”

His cheeks darkened as he stared even more intently at theceiling. “I mean to each other.”

“Oh,” Molly replied, thinking about his question. She didn’tknow much about marrying people but her parents were very happy and they likeddancing and kissing in front of the telly which was yucky. Doing that withSherlock Holmes didn’t sound nearly as yucky, “I dunno. I want to.”

“Me, too,” Sherlock said, relieved he hadn’t ruined hisonly friendship. Molly rolled over onto her side, propping herself up on herelbow.

“Promise?”

Sherlock looked at her, grinning, “cross my heart, hope todie.”

Molly took his outstretched hand and the two shook hands,a secret pact made and honoured. Hell, even if they were still friends whenthey grew up, both would consider that an achievement. They snuggled togetheras the sun went down, drifting off to sleep in their sanctuary. Mrs. Holmeswould find them several hours later in the same position before contacting Mrs.Hooper, insisting they have her stay the night. Neither minded, each agreeingthe deserved each other.

“Sherlock!” Mycroft marched out of his parent’s home,approaching the groom furiously; he still wore his wedding suit and lookedutterly infuriated which only served to improve the mood of said groom, “wouldyou please explain why all of your presents and guests coats in my old bedroom?”

“Needed the space,” Sherlock replied, swirling theremaining champagne around his glass; his tone dripped with smugness, “can’thave them in the cupboard. Moths and all…”

Mycroft sniffed, narrowing his eyes at his little brother;he vaguely recalled the harsh words his mother had said to him that morning, somethingabout keeping one’s mouth shut and not ruining the happiest day of Sherlock’slife. Still, he shook his head.

“Instead of enacting your petty childhood revenge, perhapsyou should focus your deductive expertise on finding your new bride. I haven’tseen her since the ceremony.”

“Leave it to me, Mycroft,” he answered, despite Mycrofthaving already left to return to the reception in the large dining hall.Sherlock drained his glass, his eyes fixed on his old treehouse, “I know justwhere to look.”

Molly lie on the floor of the treehouse, looking up at thebees she once stared at for hours; the design had all but faded, only thefaintest of the paint remained. Old instruments and abandoned schoolwork werelittered about the place now; she turned her head, glancing fondly at the farcorner where she and her new husband had shared their first kiss, agedfourteen. The sounds of huffing and panting pulled her out of her daydream andshe pushed herself up, cursing under her breath as her head collided with thelow ceiling. Molly peered out of the window, biting her lip to keep fromlaughing as she watched Sherlock attempting to climb the old rope. After a fewminutes, she pushed down the rope ladder.

“You could’ve just asked…”

Sherlock let go of the rope before he could embarrass himselffurther. He looked back at the house briefly, raising an eyebrow at his lovelywife, “Mrs. Holmes…it’s your wedding day. People might talk.”

Molly giggled, one thing that hadn’t changed in theirnearly twenty years together, “let them.”

She disappeared inside and he scurried up the ladder inrecord time, causing Molly to giggle once more; another thing that constantlyamused Molly was that her husband was a much taller man and was frequentlyknocking his head against the ceiling. Sherlock crawled through the space heonce thought far too large for just himself. His wife seized his jacket andtugged him beside her on the blanket, leaning over him and planting an eagerkiss to his lips; she still wore her wedding dress and, to Sherlock, she hadnever looked so beautiful.

“I remember having more space than this,” he commented,shifting onto his back, his legs dangling out of the entrance. Molly rested herhead against his chest.

“We were a lot smaller back then.”

“You’ve always been small.”

Molly lifted her head in mock offence, “I am not small.”

“Very small,” he nodded, pressing her knuckles to his lipsfondly, “like a mouse.”

“Now, Mr. Holmes,” Molly said, a playful tone to hervoice; she fiddled with his tie, a sultry smirk creeping onto her face, “I can’tpossibly begin married life with you without letting that comment go withoutpunishment,” Sherlock could only nod, swallowing audibly – damn her and herpower over him. God, he loved her. Molly’s grin was positively sinful as hetwisted his top button free, “you’re going to have to shag me to make up forit.”

“I-I think I can do that,” he said stupidly. His wifepropped herself onto her elbow, staring down at him in utter adoration andrespect.

“Promise?”

Her husband looked across at her, returning her look of devotion.He, too, rolled onto his side and rested on his elbow, reaching over to tuck aloose strand of hair behind Molly’s ear.

“Cross my heart, hope to die.”