#aside from that only ever time we got confused was when i just said Harry and Blood was like Which One❓

[the-acid-pear]

as someone both into DSaF and Spider-man, do u ever see posts abt a Peter and/or Harry for one fandom and mistake it for the other, because I've done that too many times (like twice. but still)

SURPRISINGLY IT NEVER HAPPENED but tbf I haven't been regularly seeing spiderman stuff for a while now so it's more on the back of my brain. I do have it happen over in DMs tho when I'm rambling nonsense, because it's a wild west in there.

[esnyshire]

amateur: the epilogue

summary: In the last chapter of amateur I decided to take a different route and make it a filler chapter. mostly because i wanted to continue on my story with Harry and Love. Here we learn more about them together and get a front row seat of what goes on in their daily life. Things get personal and promises are made.

warning: very short, cute fluff, plans for the future, things are moving fast, Harry freaks out a little

wc: 1.7k

Harry insisted I come to his house. He said he has very big, life changing news. With his frequent meetings at Sterlings office, they've had plenty of time to discuss the many possible career opportunities they can do together. Harry recently got asked by Sterling to manage him for the foreseeable future. At first, I was confused. What could he possibly need a manager for?

Immediately after hearing Harry sing and getting all the information in full detail, it's something I see working out and strongly encouraged. Sterling sure does have an amazing eye for talent. Him picking up on that has me jumping for joy. The prospect of him having his dream come true is going to be worth all the effort he's already started putting in.

When I get to the front door I pick up the spare key Harry leaves for me from under the doormat. It's mostly quiet when I enter, aside from a small voice that echoes through the living room. Harry is humming quietly to himself but it's beautiful nonetheless. Ever since I found out that he can sing, I ask him every chance I get to serenade me. He always gets so shy. I find it so precious. The past three month has been mainly us getting to know each other more. Cute things mostly. I've noticed when he eats, he sticks his tongue out a little before putting the food in his mouth. It makes me giggle every time I see his little tongue jab out to reach the spoon. Oh, and for some odd reason when he sleeps on his back, he sleeps talks. it's not even normal conversation either, it's just a bunch of demands. The kicker is that if I don't listen it'll cause a chain reaction of being manhandled, him will force me on top of his chest and knock right out like nothing even happened. To make it all worse he's a literal portable heater. I stopped wearing pajamas to sleep because of him. It's just too hot. He's an avid hater for mornings, which is fine by me cause I do too. But, his true love is breakfast in bed. "Can't go wrong with some sunny side up eggs, with two sausages and a stack of pancakes." He says.

We've also discussed the basics of any human being. My allergies being the first question he asked, which threw me for a loop.

*Three Week Ago*

"What are you allergic to, other than cats?"

"That's a long list," I say, widening my eyes and scuffing a little. "Cats as you know, when I get scratched by them the cut swells up so much and itches pretty bad. Their saliva causes me to mildly rash up in the area. Same with dogs. I'm severely allergic to bunnies. Grass, trees, mildly allergic to kiwis but I still eat them, and pineapples." I finish off, grabbing one finger for every one thing I name.

I don't notice how quiet it's been while I'm trying to think if I'm missing anything until I've already blurted out the last thing. "Oh, and peanut butter, mildly!" I've lived with these minuscule imperfections for majority of my life, all my food allergies came as age crept up on me. I look up at Harry when I finish, hyper-focused on the floor trying to get all the information out. He looks like he's seen a ghost.

"Why would you eat or be around things you are allergic to?! Are you mad?! Love, please tell me you're joking?" His voice is jumpy and his eyes are bulging out in shock.

"Mildly, Harry. I won't die from these things. Well, the bunny maybe." I joke, trying to lighten up the mood. My statement only causes him to freak out even more.

"Do you not care about your life?"

"Mildly," I laugh at my own joke. "It's fine though. I'm usually cautious when I eat things I'm mildly allergic to. In terms of my allergies to animals, I love them. I can withstand sneezing to have a life companion." I say with a smile.

Harry's face visibly relaxes, he's been trying hard to understand why I have Finnegan if I'm so obviously allergic to her. My love for Finnegan goes far beyond my comfortability, he's finally starting to understand.

"I know bee, it's just still a shock that you put your body through allergic reactions for things you want to enjoy. It makes me nervous." The use of the new nickname he gave me, causes a tight-lipped smile to form on my face. He rubs the back of his neck, awkwardly avoiding eye contact.

"Oh! Dust, can't forget dust." I say loudly. Harry groans, smacking his hand against his forehead in frustration. "So, any siblings?"

*

We continue to learn new things about each other, and I'm happy as can be that he wants to share things about himself with me. It's a nice feeling being so close to someone, it's still not something I'm used to but it's gets easier everyday. I walk through his house, following the sound of his voice. I finally make my way to the kitchen and he's stood by the stove, wooden spoon in hand. No music is playing, just the taps of his bare feet and his melodic humming.

I walk around the kitchen island, trying not to make myself too noticeable. I don't want to scare him from continuing. My arms snake around his torso, pressing my palms against his chest. My head softly lands on his back, and my ear is pressed firmly to his spine. His heart picks up in rhythm, not expecting me to be behind him. The humming stops immediately.

"Don't stop, keep going," I whisper, giving back the quiet I took away.

"I'll sing for you in a minute, come here." He pulls my arms away from him and turns to me.

He grabs my face softly and stares into my eyes. He strokes the pads of his thumbs on the apple of my cheeks, analyzing my face so intensely I start to worry if the big news is bad. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just missed you. How's my busy busy bee?"

"I missed you too, I'm here," I say, reaching out to clutch his shirt. I never feel close enough when I'm with him, "I've been really good, I have a couple of auditions coming up! Sterling's been throwing them at me left and right, but I don't mind. If getting experience is what I need to help my career, I'll do it." I feel so silly always having a smile all the time, but it's him. Everything about him and my new life has me smiling from ear to ear. Harry's is obviously a good omen in my life and I'm grateful. I breathe his scent in as I talk with him, he smells of sunflower seeds and sunblock. The scent has become a comfort smell for me since we started dating. "So, tell me. What's the big news?" I take a step backward towards the island and jump up. Harry moves in between my dangling legs.

"Remember how I told you Sterling wants to manage me?" He looks at me for my answer, I nod. "Well, he's found a recording company that's interested in my music!"

"No fucking way, that's amazing!" I pull him into a big wet kiss. I continue my kiss train, planting another on his nose, then his cheek, and the other immediately after. I manage to kiss every part of his face before he's in a fit of giggles over my affection.

"Yeah, he said they want to meet up with me and discuss a few things but they have a contract made already! They want me to make an album!" Excitement is laced in his words. I could burst with happiness for him. This is something he's wanted but always felt like it was too late for him. He once told me how he was pushing forty and just couldn't see anyone being interested in helping him with his music career so late in the game. When Sterling first showed interest he brushed it off, not even trying to get his hopes up. The only reason he went along with it at first, was because I kept nagging him about it with Sterling one night at dinner.

"You're doing it, right?!" My hands swing out beside me in question as I yell out to him.

"I think so."

"Why not a solid yes? What's stopping you?" Questions fall from my mouth. I can't understand why he didn't just say yes.

"You."

"Me? Why me? What did I do?" My confusion only grows.

"We only started talking a month ago, but I feel the need to speak to you before I make any decisions."

I feeling seen in this joyous moment. His dream comes true and he's worried about what I think about it. He makes my body feel like silly putty when he does things like this. "That's very thoughtful of you, Harry. It means a lot, but you didn't stop me from taking the job at The Garden or any of the auditions that have been thrown at me. It would be beyond wrong of me to get in the way. What kind of person would that make me?" His eyes are stuck on my face as I talk.

"You have to say yes, Harry."

"But-"

"No buts. You are so talented. You deserve this! This is your dream, you gave me mine. Follow yours or you'll regret it for the rest of your life." I push my feelings out. I want him to know this is okay and that I'll support him no matter what.

"Okay, okay fine. I will. I'll text Sterling when I'm done with dinner." He childishly rolls his eyes.

"You're making dinner?"

"Yeah, it's a special night. Plus, I wanted to do something for you." He shyly smiles down at my thighs.

"Aw, sweetness! It's your special night, I'll take over for you."

"You sure?" He asks.

"Yes, but before I do, promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"When you get all famous don't you forget about me, okay?"

He laughs at me, tightening his grip on my thighs. He nods and presses a small kiss to my lips.

"I could never forget you, I promise."

[yanyyogurt]

I've always loved Dramione ever since I first read the books and saw the movies, not only did they look good together, but they had a lot of potential. All the what-ifs were there, I thought. Now that I got introduced to fandom in my later age, I understood that maybe it's just because I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers tropes, but I realized Dramione felt more like that. It's not a bash on Ron and Hermione or whatever, I'm a fan of ship and let ship, but I just thought Ron and Hermione's romance felt very... tumultuous. They were in a war, and they trauma bonded, finding comfort with one another. Aside from that, I don't feel they had anything more in common.

I wrote a quick snippet in one of my Dramione WIPs on how Ron and Hermione might have broken up - I felt like Hermione being with Ron is a "canon-event" we couldn't interfere; she needed that growth to realize what she wanted.

.... It was raining that day, when they had quarreled about it. Their emotions were high, unbridled and as tumultuous as their relationship was. “Surely you don’t think we have done enough? Fighting a war, almost getting ourselves, our loved ones killed? And you still want to stay, and ‘do more’?” Ron exclaimed, pacing back and forth in their apartment. “Ron, I know you only want to get out of London to forget everything that has happened here!” She sat on the bed, exasperated. She knew him, and she understood how he felt, but she couldn’t bring herself to just leave everything behind and to follow him into what he desired when it was far from what she wanted.  “And what if I do, Hermione? Is it too bad? Am I being selfish to do so?” “No, but it is selfish for you to not even hear me out! I want a home, I want a place where I could go to after the end of every day! I am tired of bouncing to and fro, feeling like I am back in that forest with you and Harry, always on the go, always on a run!” “A home? You want to get settled then? You think we’re ready for that, marriage?” Ron stopped in his tracks, his look incredulous. Hermione couldn’t feel anything but hurt. “I didn’t say that, I didn’t know it could be something so appalling for you!” She hissed and left the room, Ron’s face confused and red, realization dawning on what he had just said. This wasn’t the first time where their argument had snowballed into something bigger, deeper. What were misunderstandings and slight differences eventually became clear issues, and neither of them wanted to give in for the other. It was only then that night, when she thought that Ron had fallen asleep, Hermione found herself crawling into bed with him. She placed her arm tentatively over his body, her breath hitching and her eyes glassy. Ron was still awake, and he gripped her hand and placed it on his chest, and she felt his heart beat almost as loud and as frantic as hers. When Ron turned around, she found his eyes were already welling up with tears. “Ron, I’m sorry,” she breathed. Tears slipped unashamedly from her eyes. They looked at each other knowingly, and Ron understood what her apology meant. “I’m sorry too.” He then gently took her into his arms, and tucked her into him one last time. “What do you reckon it was, ‘Mione?” “I think it’s us, and I think it was the timing.” They fell in love in such precarious, uncertain times. In those dark times, they found solace and comfort together, but in the era of peace and supposed renewed hope, Hermione found that they both dimmed each other’s light. “I loved you,” Ron whispered in the crook of her neck. “Oh, Ron, I loved you too. I will always love you.” It was the truth, Hermione thought. She still did love Ron, but she knew now how to differentiate the love she held for the people in her life. Ron belonged with the rest of those dear to her, and as far as she’s concerned, Hermione wasn’t sure she was open to the idea of finding a love that would stand out from the others. Especially as love wasn’t something that she would take so lightly now, for it was love that triumphed against Voldemort, it was love that vanquished evil. 

Please don't come after me, I'm new.

[waitimcomingtoo]

The Morning After

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Synopsis: no one knows you’re dating until the boys walk in on you and Tom after your first time

Requested by @iwantacertainlondonboy

Masterlist

“I’m starving.” Harry whined. “Why didn’t anyone make anything?”

“Because you divs used all the dishes and didn’t clean them.” Harrison shot back as his tummy growled.

“Well who was supposed to go grocery shopping?” Sam snapped. “You. Now, all we have is hummus and barbecue sauce.”

“The barbecue is starting to look real good.” Tuwaine mumbled.

“Let’s get Tom and Y/n and go get brunch or something.” Harrison suggested.

“They’re sleeping.” Harry whined again. “Why don’t we just go without them?”

“Because if we go without them, Tom won’t pick up the tab.” Harrison said as he tapped the side of his head.

“Smart thinking.” Sam agreed. “I’ll get Y/n.”

Sam got off the couch and made his way to your bedroom. He took a deep breath before knocking on your slightly open door.

“Y/n?” He asked softly as he pushed the door open. He tip toed into your room and gently shook the pile of blankets on your bed.

“We were all going to get some breakfast.” Ge continued in a soft tone. “Do you want to come?”

When you didn’t answer, he frowned and shook the blankets again.

“Y/n?” He asked. “Are you awake?”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows and pulled your blankets down. He saw that you weren’t in the bed and retreated back to the living room.

“She’s not in her bed guys.” Sam announced when he got back to the boys. “Did she get up already?”

“I haven’t seen her.” Tuwaine shrugged.

“Did you check on Tom?” Harrison asked.

“I was just about to.” Sam answered.

“Should we all run in there and scream?” Harry said while rubbing his hands together.

“Why would we do that?” Harrison asked.

“To piss him off.” Harry said like it was obvious.

“Yeah.” Harrison nodded in agreement. “Okay.”

The rest of the boys got up but Tuwaine stopped them before they could go through with the plan.

“We can’t do that.” Tuwaine shook his head.

“Why not?” Harry asked.

“We need him to pay.” Tuwaine reminded them.

“He’s right.” Harrison said. “I’ll go in there and wake him up.”

Harrison went ahead of the group and went into Tom’s room. When he opened the door, he saw you asleep in Tom’s bed. Even with Tom’s arms wrapped around you, it was apparent that neither of you were wearing clothes. Harrison caught sight of the splatter of hickeys covering your neck and his eyes widened. He quietly backed out of the room and went back to the boys.

“Is he awake?” Harry asked him.

“Um, see for yourself.” Harrison gestured to the door. Harry gave him a strange look before going into Tom’s room. He saw exactly what Harrison saw, also catching sight of your discarded clothes on the floor. He quickly shut the door and ran back to Harrison.

“Dude.” He said as he pointed to Tom’s room.

“I know.” Harrison nodded. Harry thought about what might have happened between the two of you and his eyes bulged.

“Dude!” He whispered harshly.

“I know!” Harrison matched his tone. “What’s going on in there?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Tuwaine asked them. They both silently pointed to Tom’s door in response. Tuwaine went into the room and came back shortly with a shocked expression.

“Dudes.” He said softly.

“We know.” Harry and Harrison said in unison.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked. “Is he awake?”

“Uh, I wouldn’t go in there.” Harry stopped Sam before he could go into Tom’s room.

“Is he sick?” Sam wondered.

“Let’s just say, uh, the British are coming.” Harry answered.

“What?”

“I think they already came.” Harrison mumbled under his breath.

“What? What are you talking about?” Sam looked between the boys in confusion. No one wanted to be the one to tell him, so they all stepped aside and gestured to Tom’s door. Sam gave them a look before opening Tom’s door. He immediately tripped on Tom’s boxers by the door. His eyes went up the trail of clothes leading up to the bed, where he saw you and his brother tangled together. Tom stirred a little in his sleep and kissed your shoulder, making you smile in your sleep. Sam felt all the color drain from his face and before he knew it, he was screaming.

“AHHH.” He screamed, instantly waking you and Tom up. You both shot up in bed and screamed back.

“AHHHH.” You and Tom screamed in surprise.

“AHHHHH.” Sam screamed back and smacked his hands over his eyes. The rest of the boys rushed into the room when he heard the commotion.

“Whats all the screaming about?” Harry asked before his eyes fell on you.

“Woah, tiddies.” He chuckled as he pointed a finger at you. Tom quickly covered you with his hands and glared at Harry.

“Everyone out now!” Tom commanded. “We - we’re doing laundry!”

“I’m seeing an alarming lack of clothes for people doing laundry.” Harry snickered. Sam looked at him in horror for making light of the situation.

“Get out!” Tom said again. The boys scrambled to the door, knocking and tripping over each other as they went.

“Sorry!” Harry called as he shut the door behind him. You and Tom caught your breath once silence settled back into the room. You looked at each other in a panic as your heart rates returned to a steady rhythm.

“Do you think they saw us?” Tom asked you after a beat of silence. You looked at him for a long time as flashes of all the screaming played back in your mind.

“Yes, I think they saw us.” You replied.

“Oh no.” Tom groaned. “They’re gonna know.”

“Maybe not.” You shrugged helplessly. “Maybe they think we were just doing karate or something.”

“Darling, I don’t think they’re gonna think we were doing karate.” Tom chuckled as he brushed his thumb over your series of hickeys. You laughed as well as you took his hand off your shoulder and kissed the back of it.

Elsewhere, the boys were trying to process what they just witnessed in the living room.

“What just happened?” Harrison asked the group.

“They were just sleeping.” Sam said quickly. “They probably fell asleep watching a movie or something.”

“Naked though?” Tuwaine raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think they were naked.” Sam’s eyes darted around as he lied.

“No. They were.” Harrison concurred. “I definitely saw some peen.”

“I saw boobs, so,” Harry shrugged. “I’m happy.”

“What do you think they were doing in there?” Tuwaine wondered.

“Definitely not laundry.” Harry muttered.

“Hm. Let’s think. What were two adults doing naked in a bed together?” Harrison asked sarcastically.

“Karate?” Sam suggested weakly. The rest of the boys looked at him, their silence deafening.

Back in Tom’s room, you tried to come up with a plan.

“What should we do?” You asked him. “Is it safe to go out there?”

“Let’s give them a minute to process it. I don’t want to get asked a million questions right now. I just want to stay here with you.” Tom said and he picked up your hand to hold it.

“I wanna stay here too.” You mumbled. With all the commotion of waking up, you had momentarily forgotten that you had sex for the first time last night. You leaned in to kiss him to thank him for a magical night. He immediately kissed you back, putting his hands on your face face to keep you close.

“I’m glad we did it. I’m less glad about being woken up by screams, but I’m glad it happened.” Tom chuckled as he stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“Me too.” You smiled softly. “I was really nervous, but now I’m just happy.”

“You were nervous?” Tom asked curiously.

“Yeah.” You said sheepishly. “I had no experience. I was scared I wouldn’t be any good.”

“Well, you were perfect.” He told you as he kissed your knuckles. “I’ve always thought you were perfect.”

You smiled and cupped his face to kiss him again. You kissed him multiple times before moving to press kissed all over his face.

“I’m so happy.” You beamed. “I’ve never been this happy.”

“Me either, darling.” He matched your grin. “I love you.”

You kissed him again and pulled him into a hug.

“I love you more.”

In the living room, the boys were standing around, impatiently waiting for you and Tom.

“Why haven’t they come out yet?” Sam whined as he paced around the room.

“Round two, perhaps?” Harry joked, giving Harrison a nudge.

“You seriously think they hooked up?” Harrison asked him. “That’s kinda bold for them.”

“Is it? You know how close they are.” Tuwaine shrugged. “Tom must have seduced her and lead her to his bed chambers.”

“Under our roof?” Sam gasped. “With us in the house? Those whores.”

“I mean, I personally saw this coming.” Harry raised his hand. “It was only a matter of time.”

Everyone else nodded, which caught Sam’s attention.

“You guys saw this coming?” He asked sadly.

“Yeah. It was pretty obvious they liked each other. And with all of us living together, some hanky panky is bound to happen.” Tuwaine explained. Sam stopped pacing and looked down at the ground.

“I just didn’t think she liked him back.” He mumbled.

“Maybe she doesn’t.” Harrison suggested. “Maybe she just wanted to get off and he was there.”

“I was there too.” Sam shrugged. “We all were.”

“Yeah, but, she picked him.” Harry stated. “Can’t blame her. I’d shag a superhero too if given the chance.”

“Have none of you ever heard the word “sex” before or…” Tuwaine said under his breath.

“Wait, shhh.” Harrison hushed the crowd “They’re coming.”

Tom sheepishly padded into the room, fully dressed now. His hair was sticking up in every single direction, worse then his usual bed head. His pajama shirt did little to hide the love bites on his jawline, and absolutely nothing could hide the grin on his face.

“Hello everyone.” He said, bowing a little to the crowd.

“Good morning.” Harrison smirked. “How’d you sleep?”

“Or did you not get much?” Harry quipped. Tom shot him another look and dropped his smile.

“I slept fine.” He rolled his eyes. “What did you guys see?”

“More of you than I ever wanted to.” Harry began. “But as much of her as I wanted.”

“Don’t be a div.” Tom smacked the back of his brothers head.

“You’re the div.” Harry insisted. “Who doesn’t lock the door?”

“It’s not our fault. We didn’t know it was gonna happen.” Tom replied.

“What did happen?” Sam asked wearily. Tom looked around at the group and saw everyone leaning in to find out more. He wanted to keep the sweetness of your relationship to himself for a little longer, but he knew was was caught.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we had sex last night.” Tom said slowly. The group fell silent, then erupted into applause.

“All right.” Harrison cheered and shook Toms shoulders.

“It’s about time.” Harry clapped him on the back as well.

“Was it good?” Tuwaine inquired.

“Did she peg you?” Harry asked.

“Where is she now?” Sam spoke above the crowd.

“She’s bloody embarrassed after you all woke us up screaming.” Tom said with annoyance. “She didn’t want to come down.”

Everyone nodded, understanding where you were coming from.

Tom looked around the room before muttering, “Also, she can’t walk.”

Excited murders came from Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine while Sam groaned.

“Oh my God.” Sam gagged. “I’m gonna be sick.”

Not wanting to hear anymore, he left the room and went to sulk in his own bedroom.

“Whats his problem?” Tom asked once his brother had left.

“Not sure.” Harry shrugged. “The rest of you are happy for you though. I don’t think any of us thought you had the balls to go for it.”

“Well I do.” Tom folded his arms. “Y/n can vouch for me.”

No one liked that joke as much as Tom did, and it showed in everyone’s faces. The room fell silent as Tom stood there, proud of what he had said.

“Don’t be gross, man.” Tuwaine mumbled.

Suddenly, you walked into the room wearing Toms shirt from the night before. You had sleep shorts sticking out under the shirt, barely hiding the hickies littered on your thighs. Tom caught sight of them and flushed, adverting his eyes to calm himself down.

“Good morning.” You said quietly. You stood next to Tom and wrapped your arm around his, feeling particularly clingy this morning.

“There she is.” Harrison clapped. “The girl of the hour.”

“How are you, beautiful?” Harry asked you. “Do you need anything? Water? Breakfast?”

“Plan B?” Harrison said in the same cheery tone.

“Shut up.” Tom snapped.

“Actually, I could use some water.” You laughed softly.

“I’ll get it!” Harry and Harrison said in unison as the ran to the kitchen. You could hear them fighting over a water bottle in the kitchen and looked to Tom for answers.

“Whats up with them?” You wondered.

“They saw your tits.” Tuwaine said timidly. “You could hit them with your car and they’d be okay with it.”

“Interesting.” You chuckled.

“Not interesting. Unacceptable.” Tom grumbled with jealously. “And I will definitely be hitting them with my car.”

“Don’t.” You rubbed his arm soothingly. “Let’s just have a nice day. No vehicular man slaughter.”

“Okay.” Tom smiled at you and kissed your forehead. At that moment, Harry and Harrison ran back into the room with water bottles in hand.

“Here you go.” Harry said as he presented you with a water bottle.

“Mines better.” Harrison smacked the bottle out of Harry’s hand and held his out. “It’s colder.”

You laughed and took Harrison’s water bottle with a grateful smile.

“Thank you.” You said before taking a long sip. You didn’t realize how dry your mouth was until you got some water.

“Do you need any?” You asked Tom, and he nodded.

“Yeah. Thanks, love.” He said before opening his mouth. You poured some water in, smiling as it ran down the love bites on his neck.

“Ew.” Harry scrunched up his nose when he saw this. You used the hem of your shirt to wipe Toms face free of water. He smiled gratefully before leaning down to kiss you.

“So, are you guys together or what?” Harry wondered. “Because if you just wanted to sleep with a Holland brother, might I suggest m-“

“Shut up.” Tom cut him off. “We’re together. We’ve been together for a few weeks now.”

“Really?” Tuwaine asked. “How come you didn’t tell us?”

“We were planning on telling you guys soon.” You said. “Just not like this.”

“None of us could have planned for this.” Tuwaine agreed.

“I’m happy for you guys though.” Harrison piped up. “I think you make a good couple.”

“Thank you.” Tom smiled proudly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“Just, you know, lock the door next time.” He continued.

“Trust me.” You sighed and patted Toms chest. “We will.”

You looked around suddenly and noticed one of your housemates was missing.

“Where’s Sam?” You wondered.

“Probably crying in the other room.” Harrison chuckled.

“Crying?” Tom furrowed his eyebrows. “Why?”

Harry and Harrison exchanged a look, neither wanted to be the one who broke the news.

“You should probably go talk to him.” Harry said. Tom looked at you curiously before nodding.

“I’ll be right back.” He told the group before leaving the room.

Tom found Sam in his bedroom, blankly staring at the wall. He shut the door behind him, making Sam jump a little.

“Mate, what’s going on with you? Is everything okay?” Tom asked. Sam looked at him for minute before looking down at his hands.

“I can’t believe you slept with Y/n.” He mumbled.

“Why?” Tom wondered. “You guys tease us all the time about how close we are. I thought you’d all see this coming.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t think you two would ever actually do something.” Sam sighed. “What even was last night? Was it a one night stand or…”

“Well, we’ve kinda been dating.” Tom said slowly. “Not for very long, though. We both agreed we wanted to be more than friends and I don’t know. Things just kinda happened from there.”

“Why didn’t you tell any of us?” Sam asked. “We live together, for Christ’s sake.”

“Because, I don’t know.” Tom shrugged. “I didn’t want anyone to know yet. It was just our little secret. Haven’t you ever had a secret?”

Sam opened his mouth and quickly shut it, feeling the irony of Tom’s question hit him. He didn’t want to lie to his brother, so he let out a sigh.

“I like her.” He said, barely audible but Tom heard.

“What?”

“That’s my secret. I like her.” Sam looked up. “I’ve liked her ever since we met. And now you…you ruined it.”

“What?” Tom repeated. “I didn’t ruin anything.”

“My older brother slept with the girl I liked.” Sam said fully. “That kinda ruins things for me, mate.”

“I slept with my girlfriend.” Tom corrected. “And it was a big deal for us, so don’t rain all over it.”

“It’s a big deal for me too.” Sam insisted. “I really liked her.”

Tom was about to raise his voice, but decided against it. He knew better than anyone that you could not help who you fell in love with. He knew that if he was in Sam’s shoes, he’d be just as upset.

“Look, I’m sorry your feelings are hurt.” Tom said as he sat down next to Sam. “I didn’t know you liked her. But you never said anything about it. How was I supposed to know?”

“Would it have changed anything if you did know?” Sam asked quietly. Tom though about it for a moment before he gave his reply.

“Honestly, no.” Tom answered. “I love her. Nothing would’ve changed my mind.”

Sam stayed silent, not happy with this answer.

“Would anything have changed your mind?” Tom asked. “Would you have stopped liking her if you knew I did as well?”

“No.” Sam realized. “I guess I wouldn’t.”

“So do you understand now?” Tom hoped. “I didn’t do this to hurt you. I love her. This was always about her.”

“I guess.” Sam huffed. “It still sucks for me, though.”

“Yeah.” Tom chuckled. “It does. But you still get to be her friend. And she still loves you. Just, you know, like a brother.”

“I wish it was different.” He mumbled. “I’ll get over it. But for now, I really wish it was different.”

Tom looked at his brother and sighed. He knew this wasn’t the kind of problem he could fix. Tom definitely wasn’t the person Sam wanted to be around right now. He patted his brothers shoulder and left the room, going to find you for help.

A few hours later, you spotted Sam sitting alone on the couch. He was staring at the wall, seemingly a little out of it.

“Hey, Sam.” You smiled at him as you took a seat next to him. He broke out of his trance to look at you, giving you a weak smile back.

“Hi.” Sam said timidly.

“What’s going on?” You asked as you pushed his shoulder playfully.

“Tom told you?” Sam knew right away.

“Yeah.” You gave him a sad smile. “He told me.”

Sam stayed quiet, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment. You noticed this and put a cold hand on his face.

“You know I love you, right?” You said softly. “So much, Sammy.”

Sam nodded and looked down at his clasped hands.

“But not like that?” He asked wearily. You folded your lips in and nodded a little.

“But not like that.” You repeated. He looked up, but not at you. You put your hands on top of his and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“It’s not your fault.” He said. “We can’t help what we don’t feel.”

“I guess not.” You agreed. Sam nodded again, not trusting his voice enough to speak.

“For what it’s worth, you’ve always been my favorite brother.” You told him honestly. He finally looked at you and smiled a little.

“I won’t tell Harry.” He told you, assuming he meant favorite of the twins.

“Or Tom or Paddy.” You added. “It’ll be our little secret. Can you keep a secret?”

Your words caused Sam to think of all the times he wanted to tell you he liked you, but didn’t. He briefly wondered if things would be different had you known.

“Yeah.” He smiled sadly. “I can.”

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[messers-moony]

Hope | R.L

Paring: Remus Lupin X Wife!Potter!Reader

Summary: Life is unfair in numerous ways but it seems like it’s out to get the Potters in every way shape and form.

A part of growing up means maturing. Maturing means realizing that the world is cruel and unfair. People die every day without a reason or a why. Children are born into this world every day with love or hatred. Growing up, parents tell their kids, “Life isn’t fair”. No one had experience unfairness like Y/n Potter and Remus Lupin.

He was right there. So close, only a few feet from her arms yet so far apart in that wretched woman’s arms who held him like he was the grossest thing she’s ever touched. Those enchanting green eyes that glistened with trauma and pain. The brown hair that started to sprout from his scalp, already messy and untidy.

“No! This isn’t fair!” Y/n wailed as Remus held her tight to his chest, “I’m his biological aunt! Please!”

The Minister of Magic was merciless, “And so is Mrs.Dursley.”

“She’s a muggle! Harry is bound to be a wizard!” Y/n cried in contradiction; the feeling to vomit became relentless, “They’ll torture him. Please, you have to let me have him.”

“With your current living situation, it isn’t safe, Mrs.Lupin.”

Remus grimaced at those words, “My current living situation? Are you daft!?”

“With Mr.Lupins…” The Minister pondered, “condition, it isn’t safe for him.”

“Remus wouldn’t hurt him.” Y/n sobbed quietly, “He’s never hurt me!”

“I’m sorry, Mrs.Lupin, but Harry Potter is the safest with Mrs. and Mr. Dursley.”

The gavel was hit upon another circle of wood, adjourning the meeting as a finality. This was it. The fight was over. Harry Potter would grow up in an unloving household that wouldn’t be capable of understanding his magic. This was the epitome of unfairness. Remus’ hands were on her waist, her back to his chest while she sobbed, trying to get him to release her.

Eventually, she collapsed to a heap on the floor. Petunia and Vernon, each holding a baby watching the couple. Harry was wailing loudly, and Petunia couldn’t get him to settle down, making Y/n only cry harder. The young boy had just begun babbling nonsense due to Sirius’ hard effort to get him to say “Padfoot”. But it was that day he said his first word.

“Moo-me!” Harry yelped, and Remus could’ve sworn his heart shattered into a thousand pieces, “Moo-me!”

The brunet boy was trying to reach for Remus, and he squirmed for the adult male, but Petunia had a tight grip. Y/n could barely hear the little boy's words over her own sobs. Her body ached and shook with every tear that fell. The silver streams stained her cheeks, and her face was a brilliant rose red.

“Please make it stop….” Y/n muttered as Remus covered her from the other four people in the room, “If he says that one more time, I might not be able to handle it. Remus, help me, please.”

Hearing her so desperate broke his heart more. Remus’ body covered hers entirely in their crouched position. Harry was practically attacking Petunia to let him go, to be in the arms that are familiar to him. He didn’t like this. He didn’t know these people. These people weren’t his parents. Where was daddy? Where was mummy? Where was uncle Sirius and Peter?

What he did know was his aunt and uncle were right in front of him. Uncle Moony and Aunt Y/n. He could feel his aunt's sadness, her frustration, her anger. He could sense his uncle's remorse, desperation, and hopelessness. Why were they feeling this way? Why weren’t they protecting him? Harry so desperately wished he could speak and say, “Help! Save me from these strangers!” But all he could get out was “Moo-mee and Tee” for Moony and Auntie.

Petunia couldn’t handle his squirming any longer and allowed him on the floor. Harry was ecstatic with this new change. The boy crawled to the two adults on the floor. Harry could feel the warmth of their bodies before he tugged at his aunt's sleeve. Harry stared into her e/c irises and his uncle's green eyes. Those eyes he’d remember forever, engraved in his memory to never forget. His aunt collected him into her arms. His head pressed to her chest. Harry’s sobs calmed, now in the arms of familiarity.

The scent of chocolate, ink, and books surrounded him. His nose was barely catching the smell due to it being runny from crying. Petunia and Vernon approached them. Remus was hugging his wife and his best friend's son, protecting them from the outside world. Gently Y/n pulled Harry from her chest, leaving him to stare at his aunt and uncle.

Y/n sniffled and wiped his tears from his cheeks like mum used to do, “Harry, I promise you, I really don’t want to do this.”

His head tilted in confusion as Y/n’s eyes filled with tears again, “I’ll come back for you. Don’t doubt that for a second.”

“If he’s anything like Prongs, he’ll always have hope.” Remus commented, making Y/n smile.

“That’s what daddy used to do to mummy when she was sad,” Harry thought, “he used to say something to make her smile.”

Despite the soft smile on her face, she had wet trails on her cheeks, “I love you, Harry.”

Y/n kissed his forehead where the lightning scar was placed—hugging him one more time and Remus doing the same as his wife. Harry didn’t understand. Where was he going? Why was auntie Y/n letting him go? Why weren’t they taking him home? Where was mummy and daddy?! So he began to wail again. Petunia picked him up, and the family of four now started to walk out of the room.

She couldn’t even cry anymore. The water that once flowed down her cheeks had stopped. The dam had broken but no longer had water to give. Y/n turned to put her face harshly in Remus’ chest. His arms raked through her hair and rubbed her back. Silent tears rolled down his flushed cheeks, reaching his jawline and falling into Y/n’s hair.

“That was-“ Y/n hiccuped, “the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“I know, darling.” Remus whispered, “He’s got James’ spirit, and that means he won’t lose hope. He’s got Lily’s kindness. Harry will be fine.”

Y/n shook her head, “That’s not the point. He should be with me. Not that horrid woman.”

“I know. But you and I will get through this.” Remus assured, tilting her head to face him, “We’ve gotten through everything else. We can get through this too.”

Solemnly, Y/n nodded. Remus placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. The room was precise and silent, aside from Y/n’s hiccups. The clicking of a clock could be heard echoing throughout the room. Usually, the sound would bring a sense of solace to Remus but right now, it was a constant reminder that time had gone by. James and Lily were no longer with him. Sirius had betrayed them all, and Peter was dead. Godric, how could this all happen?

Remus flicked his wand from his pocket, apparating them back to their residence. Inside it was cozy and warm. Remus took off Y/n’s coat along with his own as she took a seat on the leather couch. She grabbed her wand, muttering an “Incendio” to start a fire in the fireplace. Her body was curled up, and Remus placed a blanket over her while he went to the kitchen.

The kitchen was a pale blue with dark oak flooring. The marble countertops and dark cabinets. A brilliant contrast. He could almost hear James’ laugh from when they were painting it together while also hearing Lily and Y/n’s scolding them for making a big mess. It brought an emptiness to his heart, but he filled the kettle with water, allowing it to boil on the water.

Inside the cabinets laid an assortment of tea. Something James and Lily had bought him as a joke. Remus always made tea no matter the occasion. It was so him. James had seen it at a muggle store Lily had brought him for. He had been dying of laughter in the store just thinking about it. It got laughs around the Christmas tree when Remus unwrapped the decorative paper.

Remus grabbed a tea bag for himself while grabbing cocoa powder from the same cabinet and two mugs from their wedding night. The kettle began making a high pitch noise, and Remus poured the water into both mugs. Placing the tea bag in one cup and a couple of scoops of cocoa powder in the other, mixing them both, adding marshmallows to the hot chocolate and whipped cream. He added honey to his tea.

Mugs in hand, Remus walked to the living room. He placed the cups on the coffee table. Coaxing Y/n to sit up and he set the mug in her hand as she sipped it carefully, not to burn her mouth. Y/n leaned her head on Remus’ shoulder, still holding her mug with both hands. The blanket draped across their laps. Remus had the cup in his right hand, his left arm draped around her shoulders, the pad of his thumb rubbing her shoulder.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Rem.”

The holidays were hard. Almost too hard for Y/n and Remus to celebrate. But despite their pain, they decorated their house with garland, lights, and knickknacks. The Christmas tree sat in the right of their living room, covered in the beautiful colorful lights. Placed upon the tree were ornaments and tiny pieces of tinsel. Beneath the tree held presents for each other and a little boy.

Y/n stood in front of the tree, staring at it with a longing look. Remus walked behind her, putting his arms around her neck gently. Y/n’s hands instinctively reached for his bicep, rubbing it gently. Remus kissed her cheek and placed his head on top of hers.

“I wanna visit him.”

“Okay.”

Y/n turned to face him, “Okay?”

“What am I gonna tell you?” Remus joked, “No?”

“No. I just- I didn’t expect you to agree so fast.” Y/n replied, and Remus cupped her cheek, “He’s your nephew too. You have a right to see him.”

She smiled, “Yeah, you’re right.”

He kissed her forehead, “First Christmas without them….”

“I know.” Y/n said sadly, “It feels strange not to have James jumping around like a child.”

“It feels not having Lily in the kitchen trying to make your mums mince pies.”

Y/n chuckled, “She never got to master them.”

“Don’t worry, dear, I’m sure she’s up there trying.” Remus replied, smiling, “You think Peter is trying to steal the batter?” Y/n asked.

“Oh, definitely!” Remus exclaimed, smiling more than he had in months, “That bugger always used to Nick my chocolate at Hogwarts.”

“I dunno how he found my stash every time.”

The couple placed their foreheads on each other’s, closing their eyes, “We miss you, James and Lily.”

“We miss you more than ever.”

Y/n sighed, “I love you guys.”

Christmas morning was dull compared to their regular routine. Y/n was used to having James jump on top of her every Christmas so they can wake up their parents and open presents. Instead, she was woken up with kisses being placed on her neck and shoulder. Y/n turned and was faced with the sleepy face of her husband.

His sandy hair ruffled and on top of the white pillow. Green eyes glazed with a film of sleep. His lips pulled up in an effortless gentle smile. The scars on his face were whiter instead of their usual pale pink. His stubble was growing into full facial hair due to his lack of shaving. Y/n let her hand cup his right cheek, her thumb rubbing his cheekbone.

“You need to shave.”

Remus chuckled, “It’s Christmas, and that’s the first thing you say to me?”

“Merry Christmas, you need to shave?” Y/n corrected with a smile, making him laugh, “Merry Christmas, darling.”

They shared a soft and gentle kiss. His lips taking her bottom one, hers taking his top one. Soft and slow. Gentle and sweet. Pulling apart, their eyes fluttered, focusing on one another. Her eyes were so beautiful. Looking into her eyes, Remus could read an endless amount of stories. The gorgeous e/c. His eyes were evergreen. Holding so much love and adoration. She could read him like a book through his eyes.

Christmas meant eating a good meal and sharing kisses beneath the mistletoe. The couple opened each other’s presents. Y/n earning new books and some of Remus’ old sweaters that she thought he threw away. The last item she received was a maroon and gold jersey. It was her brother's Quidditch Captain jersey from when he played. Remus must’ve found it in the wreckage at Godric’s Hallow.

Remus opened his presents, getting ink, quills, notebooks, and books of his own. Since Remus couldn’t work, he always dreamed of writing a book. At Hogwarts, Remus excelled in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he wanted to write a nonbias textbook for it. Y/n always encouraged his dreams and goals. If anyone could do it, it was him.

Left under the tree were three wrapped boxes meant for the little boy. Remus grabbed a tote bag and placed them inside of it. Y/n gripped his hand tightly as they apparated to Privet Drive. They began walking down the street, sweaters on in the snow, while she grabbed his hand tighter.

“What if- What if he doesn’t recognize me?”

“Y/n, he couldn’t forget you.” Remus assured as they stood outside house four.

Gently Y/n knocked on the door. It was oak wood, and the house appeared to be at least two stories. Remus kept his hand intertwined with hers as his other held the bag with the boy's presents. Footsteps could be heard walking towards the door. Petunia had opened it to be faced with two young adults.

“Mrs. Dursley.” Remus greeted curtly, “May we see Harry?”

Petunia began to ponder and saw the bag of presents in the man's hand, “Sure.”

The woman walked into the hallway and unlocked the cupboard under the stairs. Harry was coaxed out of the storage space, and he turned to the left, where he saw his uncle and aunt. The boy's lips curved into a great big smile. Harry ran into the arms of his aunt, hugging her tightly.

“Auntie!”

Her heart melted, “Hey, mini Prongs.”

Harry turned the male beside her, “Moony!”

Remus wrapped his arms around the little boy and picked him up as they walked inside. The three of them sat in the foyer on the floor. Harry sat between Y/n’s legs, his back to her stomach as Remus sat in front of him. Gently Remus disposed of the bag and placed the presents in front of him.

“Go on, Harry. These are for you from Moony and Auntie.” Remus cooed, and Harry grabbed one, gently ripping the wrapping off.

Inside was a baby stag stuffed animal, which Harry hugged close to his chest, “Your dad's favorite animal was a stag. Thought you might want something to remember him by.” Remus stated, smiling sheepishly.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, daddy.” Y/n replied as Harry smiled up at her.

“Go on. There’s two more for you, baby.” Y/n pointed at the other two boxes, and Harry began unwrapping another.

This was a tinier box, and inside were golden glasses, “You don’t need these just yet, but these were your fathers. I wanted them to be yours.” Y/n informed him as he placed them on top of his nose.

The final box was mini-figures that Harry could play with in his spare time, which he seemed more than grateful for. Harry was giggling and laughing, happy with all his presents. The boy turned in Y/n’s lap, hugging her as tight as he could. Y/n’s hand rested on his back, and she gently kissed his forehead.

“I love you, Harry. Don’t forget that.”

“‘Ove you too.” Harry replied, having a hard time pronouncing words.

Next, he hugged Remus, who did the same. He didn’t want to leave Remus’ arms. He always ran hotter than the everyday person. Remus was a personal furnace. It makes sense why a cold young boy didn’t want to let go of the man. Within minutes the young boy was asleep in Remus’ arms.

Petunia came into the hallway an hour later to see Harry soundly asleep in the man's arms, “Excuse me, but I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Yes, of course.” Y/n took Harry from Remus’ arms and gave him to Petunia, “Thank you for letting us see him.”

Petunia took the boy from Y/n’s arms, “Yes.”

She put the boy in his bed under the cupboard, making Y/n frown at his living situation, “Do you- Do you think that Harry could stay with us some weekends?”

“No.”

“Oh, okay.” Y/n muttered, “Thank you again, but we must’ve overstayed our welcome.”

“Of course.”

Y/n took Remus’ hand as they walked out of the house. They walked to a safe spot to apparate back home. They both took off their coats and placed them on the coat rack. Y/n went to turn on a movie on their television set while Remus made hot chocolate and snacks. Both of them curled up onto the sofa and fell asleep.

Over the course of the next nine years, Harry has been visited by his aunt and uncle on many different occasions. Birthdays, Christmas’s, Valentine’s Day, Halloween, and sometimes just randomly, but he always looked forward to seeing them. Every time without fail, Harry would always jump in Y/n’s arms no matter how old he got.

The warmth and feeling of being safe in her arms brought a sense of comfort no one seemed compared to. She felt like daddy. His radiate smile, his incredibly warm body, the smoothness of her voice, the glitter in her eyes, her untied hair. Auntie Y/n felt like James. But no matter how hard he tried, she never was dad exactly, but she was auntie. Y/n was his dad's sister, and for now, that’d have to do.

Of course, uncle Moony felt the same. But there were some days he didn’t show up, much to Harry’s displeasure. Harry loved sleeping in Remus’ arms when he was a young toddler. The chocolate, ink, and parchment smell always filled his sensitive nose with such a safe feeling. Harry’s favorite time of year was Christmas when Petunia would make hot cocoa, filling the room with its sweet sense. Although he never got a cup of it himself, the smell brought a sense of comfort. As if uncle Moony was embracing him tightly on all sides.

When Harry reached eleven, owls began delivering envelopes to Privet Drive number Four. But it seems that uncle Vernon refused to let him open any of them. He did whatever he had to, blocking the mail slot in the door, burning the letters, even going as extreme to leave the house. Where inevitably Hagrid - gamekeeper - at Hogwarts came to retrieve him and give him the letter.

He couldn’t believe it. He was a wizard! All this time being belittled by Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley, he finally felt special aside from those times with his other family. Harry had a chance to prove himself to be great. To prove himself that he wasn’t just a bug on the ground to be stepped on. Only one thought crossed his mind though.

“I can’t wait to tell aunt Y/n and uncle Moony.”

[talesofstyles]

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain. 

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder. 

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment. 

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car. 

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.” 

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later. 

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald. 

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.” 

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later. 

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks. 

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off. 

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.” 

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors. 

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve. 

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING. 

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head. 

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her. 

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals. 

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom. 

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife. 

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process. 

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop. 

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache. 

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink. 

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers. 

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest. 

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room. 

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward. 

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket. 

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages. 

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side. 

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket. 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door. 

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.” 

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going. 

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him. 

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear. 

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat. 

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes. 

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt. 

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige. 

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down. 

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.” 

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching. 

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

[minty-malfoy]

“would you still love me if I turned into a worm?” | blurbs

🌱 pairings: reader x blaise zabini, cedric diggory, draco malfoy, fred weasley, george weasley, harry potter, hermione granger, luna lovegood, neville longbottom (sorted in alphabetical order)

🌱 warning tags: language, probably

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Blaise Zabini

“A what, now?” your boyfriend asks, halting the movements of his quill to look up at you; brows furrowed as if it’s the most absurd thing he has ever heard in his entire life.

“You know, those wiggly things that—”

“I know what worms are, (y/n). But what the hell?”

“Dunno,” you shrug. “I’m bored.”

“So you thought about what it’d be like to turn into a worm?” his eyes narrow out of pure bewilderment, blinking once, twice, as he finally turns back to his unfinished essay. “Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of yours.”

“Not my fault you’re taking so long with that assignment,” you grumble as you begin to shift on the puffy couch, feeling somewhat annoyed by how cold and empty it is without the other boy in it. “And besides, you love me.”

An amused chuckle escapes his lips. “Can’t say that I don’t.”

“Even as a worm?”

“Will you stop asking if I said yes?”

You nod happily, giving him the answer he needs— or well, wants, really. Even though Blaise couldn’t quite understand the pointless question, he knows it’s significant to an extent.

“Yeah, alright. I would. Now give me five minutes and we can get out of here. Deal?”

A glint of satisfaction flashes through your eyes as you give him a hum in return, thinking to yourself that maybe the silly questions could be more useful than you thought.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Cedric Diggory

The moment the words leave your mouth, Cedric's first reaction is to laugh. He didn't mean for it to come out in a condescending way. He hadn't even meant to laugh, to begin with. But judging by the way you pout with both arms crossed, that might just have been how it came accross.

"I'm sorry," he offers sheepishly. "you were saying?"

"You heard me. I said what I've said," you grumble, despite not being genuinely upset at the hufflepuff boy you've grown to love.

"Wait, I need to get this straight," he takes another breath of air. "You're serious?"

"What do you think?" you pout once again, turning away slightly from your boyfriend. This only seems to ignite his amusement as much as it does his guilt. A second or two later, his arm finds its way around your shoulder, the other brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear.

"You really haven't figured it out yet?" he asks with a genuine grin on his face. You begin to eye him curiously, appreciating the charm of his pearly white teeth as you wait for the boy to go on. Soon, he pulls you into his lap where his arms craddle you lovingly.

"Sunshine," he begins. "I'm surprised you still have to ask. But if that's one way of putting my love for you, then yes. You'd be my favorite worm in the entire world."

"Promise?" you present your pinkie finger as a final means to seal the deal.

With one last chuckle, he wraps his fingers around yours. "Promise."

Everything that happens next is a flurry of innocent pecks and kisses planted along your skin, coupled with the security of two warm arms holding you in place.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Draco Malfoy

"And what exactly do you expect me to say to that?" comes his first response after a long moment of trying to figure out just how in Merlin's name your mind came up with that question.

You, on the other hand, can't help but giggle at the slytherin boy's confusion. "Whatever's on your mind right now will do."

"Well, to be honest with you, I can't quite stomach the idea of my own girlfriend turning into a bloody worm." he nearly spits the words out, softening his edge only when your eyes meet once again. "If you were expecting a different answer, I suggest moving on to the next bloke."

Draco wasn't lying about that first bit. Worms have always been an insignificant, unseen creature in his world; wiggling in the muckiest of places where they could easily be stepped on. Hence, he doesn't like to imagine you—someone so perfectly ethereal and quintessential in every single way; the only source of light shining into his pathetic excuse of a life—to be compared to a dirty worm, of all things.

"That doesn't mean I don't love you, though," he adds in a bit of a guilty tone; voice much, much softer this time. He brings your hand to his lips, dropping a few kisses on its skin. "I just much prefer having you as you already are."

You snuggle deeper into him, indicating that you already know exactly what he means.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Fred Weasley

“A worm!” Fred exclaims, nearly forgetting the food on his plate altogether. "What a brilliant idea!"

A few seats away, you can already see Ginny clamping her mouth shut as to not burst into fireworks of laughter. You mirror her gesture, eyes now on Fred once again, watching him announce this idea of yours to your entire group of friends.

Ron, who's not that thrilled to see his brother's public displays of affection, lets out a groan. "Wouldn't have asked him that if I were you."

"You think so?" comes your reply. "He seems to be having a lot of fun with this." you both glance at Fred, who is indeed already coming up with some sort of thrilling plot.

"Did you hear that, George?"

"Sure did, Fred."

"I reckon we could come up with a potion for that," he muses, turning back to look at you. "Give me a week or two and we can start living out that worm dream of yours, love."

"Wait, Freddie, you're getting it all wrong," you begin explaining, tugging on the boy's sleeve slightly to keep his attention on you, "It was just a silly little question. I don't actually plan on turning into a worm or anything like that."

At this point, you half expect his enthusiasm to die down from the grounding effect of your words. In reality, it doesn't.

"S'that so?" he replies, earning a nod from you. "Looks like you're missing the bigger picture to me, (y/n). Isn't that right, George?"

"Right you are, Fred." the said boy affirms. "Sorry, (y/n). I'm with him on this one."

With a sigh, you turn back to Ron, who's busily stuffing his mouth with a look on his face that says I told you so. You shake your head with a small smile at your boyfriend's shenanigans. You're not sure how you can both dread and anticipate the day of his worm adventures.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

George Weasley

"That's a new one," he asserts with an amused laugh. The boy rests his head against one of his palms, feeling instantly intrigued by your proposition. "Now tell me more about this worm business of yours."

"That's about it, actually." you admit sadly.

George frowns at this, wishing he could hear more worm stories and whatnot. Mostly he's just happy to see the way you talk about things passionately. Makes him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside in a way he can't ever get enough of.

"That's quite alright. I'll do the talking, then." he offers, rubbing his chin to think of what to say next. You light up in your seat, eyes wide in anticipation. Now it's your turn to eagerly wait for his response once again.

"I've got an idea. We could run off and start a new life— as worms!" he beams all of a sudden. You raise a brow for him to go on, not exactly complaining about your boyfriend's excitement towards the topic. "I'm only turning into a worm to make sure I can properly take care of you, of course. Wouldn't want to—er—squash you between my big human fingers, now do we?"

You both erupt into a chorus of laughter at the conjectured image, melting into one another like two fitting puzzle pieces. When you finally catch your breath again, you pose the main question once more, "So I'm concluding you're still going to love me, then?"

"Love you?" he repeats. "Oh darling, I'll be marrying you in a grand worm wedding!"

You can't hold back the gasp that escapes your lips, more than thrilled to have the first mention of marriage between you. Not too long after, you transform into a complete fit of giggles when George continues. "Then we'll happily live our worm lives, 'till death do us apart. Or when, you know, some bloke accidentally steps on us. Whichever comes first."

You lean into him lovingly to steady yourself after all the laughing. Taking a deep breath in, you mumble a soft, "You always know how to make me laugh, Georgie."

And the truth is, he wouldn't have it any other way. Worms or not.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Hermione Granger

"I'm sorry, I don't think I understand the point of this question."

"Which part, exactly?" you inquire, watching your girlfriend pull out another book from the wooden library shelves.

A few seconds pass before you get your answer. "You're not a worm," she states simply, eyeing you up and down as if to prove her point.

"Yes, thank you for pointing that out, 'Mione," you follow her to the next section. "Which is why I said if I turned into a worm."

The girl looks at you again, analyzing your words and expression briefly before coming to another conclusion. "I still don't understand." she pauses to think. "Unless you might be interested in becoming an Animagus? Even then, opting for a worm wouldn't be very... effective."

You roll your eyes, speeding up to block the girl's way. She lets out a non-committal "Hey!", only for you to quickly muffle it with a warm kiss. A moment or two later, you pull away with a smirk that makes her heart melt. "Just answer the question, would you?"

Still slightly caught off guard from the contact, Hermione finally caves in. "Alright, you cheeky flirt. I love you. Even as a notional worm."

Satisfied with her answer, you plant another peck— this time on her cheek, before announcing a gentle "I love you, too."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Harry Potter

The way his lips purse into a straight line tells you that Harry doesn't exactly understand the question. Not really, at first. Aside from being an entirely foreign concept to his ears, it also seems like an odd thing to ask someone, unless— "Oh! You're an Animagus!"

The smile on your face instantly drops at this. "What? No—"

"Why didn't you just say so, (y/n)?" he begins what—at the time—you don't know is going to be a nearly endless ramble. "I was planning on telling you this for a while now, but I know someone who's an Animagus, actually. In fact, I think you two would get along fantastically!" he lights up at the sudden idea, flailing his arms in the air out of excitement. "Yes, maybe I can try getting the both of you to meet up. No promises, of course, but what do you think?"

"I think you've got it all wrong," you frown; knowing you would have to disappoint your boyfriend and how you're not very fond of the idea.

"What do you mean?" he asks, albeit barely giving you a second to reply. "(y/n), it's alright, really. You know you don't have to hide yourself from me. Besides, I think it's brilliant!— what you can do, I mean."

The smile he gives you is the epitome of love itself, and now you're not quite sure how to handle the messy situation without pulling out the rug underneath Harry's feet. All you can do is squeeze his shoulder with a guilty smile, promising to talk about it again after dinner.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Luna Lovegood

"Of course. Worms are lovely, don't you think?" she says with a dreamy smile. You gape at how easily the answer could be pried from your girlfriend; no questions asked. But then again, it's not like you hadn't expected this exact outcome already.

"Really?"

"Mhm," comes her gentle hum as she begins to stir her honeyed chamomile tea. A soft smile stays glued on her features, as if she's enjoying the conversation. "What kind of worm would you like to be, (y/n)?"

"I haven't really thought about it that far," You admit. "Are you sure, though? We won't be able to hold hands or anything like that."

You can't tell if you had just imagined the almost-frown tugging on her lips, because when she looks back up at you again, her sweet signature Luna smile is back in its place. "I suppose you're right. But I could carry you around everywhere with me. Wouldn't that be lovely?"

"It would be," you nod. "but can a worm even fit into that pocket of yours?" you question, noticing how hers are stuffed with unknown items; blades of grass sticking out ever so slightly. Flowers, perhaps.

"Oh, there's nothing to worry about. See?" she pulls out a couple of daisies and fairy foxgloves to reveal a now empty pocket. "Now, would you like some tea?"

You eagerly join her on the table, snuggling against your girlfriend ever so slightly as you both begin to talk about your day. The entire worm ordeal is slowly slipping out of your mind already.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Neville Longbottom

Neville stops in his tracks at your question, taking a moment to toss the idea back and forth in his mind before he can give you a proper answer. You nearly giggle when his face scrunches up, brows knit and lips parted as he innocently asks, “But why would you turn into a worm?”

"Neville, love, no. It's a hypothetical question."

His entire body relaxes at this, releasing what you assume is a breath of relief. "Oh. I thought you were being serious for a moment there."

You shake your head with a giggle, taking a step closer to adjust the scarf around your boyfriend's neck. "I'm just curious is all. Would you still love me, then?" you ponder.

"Yes! Of course!" comes his instant reply, hands balled up into fists that match the determination on his face. "I would get you a nice worm house with all your favorite flowers in it," he bends one of his gloved finger inwards, beginning to keep count of this hypothetical to-do list. "Would you still be able to have human food? Well, either way, I promise to feed you every single day!"

He pauses, only for a second or two. "Oh! And I'll sing you worm songs! Or maybe we can sing them together? I don't know if you would still be able to talk as a worm though."

You swiftly pull him into an affectionate hug, effectively bringing his rambling—as well as the entire worm topic—to an end. His hands sheepishly find their home around your waist, where he places them softly as if it's his first time hugging you. After all the months of being together, it certainly isn't.

"What was that for?" he dares himself to ask, avoiding your eye contact shyly.

"For being the most loving and adorable boyfriend I could ever ask for," you lean in to plant a soft, gentle kiss on his cheek. You don't miss the way he pulls up his scarf to hide the blossoming blush afterwards.

I have no idea why I wrote this either lol <3

🌷 draco taglist: @arossebyanyothername @kawaii-angelanne @thefandomplace @yuosmi @bbeauttyybbx @mywellspringoflife @slytherinsunrise @avatarbeeb @scarlet-says-hi @lunars @coldlilheart @beiahadid @justmimithings @soundsquid27 @youknowiloveyou-so @n3ssm0nique @ochrythum @explxsion @yaanasluv @autumnpleaves @booksmione @drxcomvlfx @the–queen-of-hell @aspiringsloth20 @runninglownad @snitches-at-dawn @badfvith

🌷 harry taglist: @teheharrypotter @badfvith

[witchyweasley]

Unfinished Business ~ Ron Weasley

Pairing: gamer! gamer!Ron Weasley x fem!Reader

Summary: Ron has been gaming with his friends for too long, so you take matters into your own hands.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: smut, 18+ themes, exhibition (?), oral,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ron you’ve been playing for hours, I thought you said you’d be done in 20 minutes?” I sighed, flipping over on the bed behind his gaming set up. The dual screens flashed different things, one being a chat room, the other was the game.

“I will, we just have to do this before we can get off,” Ron said, not taking his eyes away from the screen.

“That was 2 hours ago, I thought we’d spend some time together tonight since it’s the first night off I’ve had in ages,” I whined. The lace set I had slipped on after my shower to surprise Ron with was now itchy and uncomfortable, these things aren’t meant to be worn this long.

“Just a minute babe,” he said, his eyes still glued to the screens in front of him. I decided to try something after another 10 minutes of keyboard clicking and him talking to the boys over headset.

Making sure his camera was off, I quietly stripped out of the sleep set I had on, finally revealing the lacy set. I threw my shorts over at Ron, landing right on his shoulder.

“What the-, oh bloody hell,” he said as he turned around and saw me in his favorite set.

“Hey,” I said, walking over to him. I heard him mute his mic quickly.

“How long have you been wearing that…” he asked, his eyes fixed on my hips as they swayed.

“Long enough, but go ahead and play your game, I know you promised them you’d finish this game,” I said, kneeling down in front of him.

“What are you- oh fuck,” he moaned out as my hands palmed his erection through his pants.

“Go ahead and keep playing. I can hear them asking you where you are,” I winked as I released his dick from the confines of his pants, pumping it slowly and feeling him get even harder.

“Hey guys, sorry about that. I uhhh, I just had to get some water.” He said as he unmuted himself, watching me in disbelief as I licked up his length before swirling my tongue around his tip, collecting any pre-cum.

He let out a low groan as I took as much of him in my mouth as I could, but quickly covered it up with a cough when he remembered his friends could hear him.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just a tickle in my throat, haha,” he rushed out in response to the boy’s questions.

I bobbed my head and hollowed my cheeks as I took more of his length in my mouth, swirling my tongue on the tip as I reached the top. His hand pushed my hair into a makeshift ponytail, lightly pulling on my hair the way I like.

I looked up at him and found his head dropped back and mouth open as he tried to hold back his moans. Right as he started to buck his hips up, I released him from my mouth and sat back on my heels.

“How’s the game going babe?” I smirked, pumping his length in my hand as I look up at him.

“...tell her we say hi!” I heard Harry say over headset.

“Actually, why don’t you tell her yourself. Here you go babe, the boys want to talk to you,” Ron smirked, pulling the headset off and placing it on me.

“Hey…” I said slowly, confused at the smirk on Ron’s face. Ron stood me up and swiftly switched so that I was in the chair and he was kneeling on the ground.

“Hey! How have you been?” Harry responded.

“I’ve been...great!” I breathed out as Ron’s hands slid up and pushed my legs up so they would rest on the arms of the chair. My breathing hitched as his thumb brushed over my clothed clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles.

“How’s work? I heard you’ve been pretty busy lately,” Dean asked me.

“Oh um, yeah! Quidditch season is always busy at the hospital…” I said quickly, trying not to moan as Ron’s finger pushed the lingerie aside so he could swipe his tongue through my folds.

“Are you okay? It sounds like you’re out of breath?” Neville asked, sounding a bit worried. I bit my lip and let out a sigh as Ron swirled his tongue around my clit.

“Yeah! Yeah! I um…. I just got done working out,” I lied, bucking my hips up as Ron continued lapping up my juices.

“I didn’t know you worked out! Do you want a gym buddy? Ginny keeps trying to recruit me for it, but I don’t think I can handle that,” Harry laughed.

“That’s...that’s a good idea, but- I only just started and I think she would kick my ass,” I stumbled as Ron sat back and used his thumb to circle over my clit, smirking when I stumbled on a word.

After swiping his tongue through my pussy for a final time, Ron held my hands and pulled me up, holding me tight as his lips attached to my neck. If it weren’t for the tight grip on my waist, I’d be a puddle on the floor right now. He flipped me around so that I was facing the monitor and his back was pressed up against mine.

“Hey boys, do you mind if she plays a round while I go grab a snack really quick?” Ron said into the mic of the headset.

“Sure! You know what you’re doing, right?” Dean asked me.

“Uh, yeah… I’ve watched Ron play it enough, I think I can figure it out,” I said, a bit confused as to what Ron’s plan was.

As the next round started, he pressed his hand to the middle of my shoulder blades and pushed me down so that I was bent over in front of the desk. His hands smacked my ass lightly a couple times before he pulled the lingerie aside again and swiped the head of his cock through.

“Oh fuck,” I said quietly as he slowly pushed into me, filling me inch by inch.

“You alright?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I-uh, I just fell off something, that’s all,” I said.

“I hate when I do that, it’s the worst,” Neville chimed in.

I stumbled through the game as I tried to focus on something other than the way Ron’s cock was stretching me out right now. His pace was slow and steady, fully taking himself out before slowly sheathing himself back into me.

“Hmmm, is there any way to go faster?” I asked the boys, but hoping that Ron caught onto my message.

“If you press the CTRL key, you should run faster,” Harry said. I barely heard him though because Ron thankfully did catch on. He pounded into me at a much better pace, causing my tits to bounce out of the low-cut lingerie and my breathing to pick back up again. His hand snaked around to toy with one of my nipples as his other one guided my hips back onto him. It took everything in me not to scream with pleasure as he hit all the right spots.

I accidentally let out a loud whine as I came on Ron’s cock, causing the boys to ask questions.

“I died,” I quickly said to cover up the noise.

“You lasted longer than I did, I died a while ago,” Dean said.

Ron was panting as he continued pounding me, trying not to make too much noise. It wasn’t long before me pulled out and finished on the small of my back. He pressed a couple kisses to my back before heading to our bathroom to grab a towel.

“Not that we don’t love playing with you, but is Ron back yet? I feel like this is the longest he’s taken to get a snack,” Harry said once the round was over.

“Ah-ha, here he is! Thanks for letting me play you guys, I’ll let you all talk to Ron,” I said as Ron came in with a towel. He cleaned me up as the boys said their Chorus of goodbye’s before I put the headset back on him.

Ron immediately muted the mic and pressed a hot kiss to my lips, “That was quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, holy fuck.”

“Oh you’re not off the hook yet. We have some lost time to make up from earlier,” I smirked before pressing a kiss to his lips and crawling onto our bed.

“Hey guys, so it looks like I’ve gotta head off here. There’s some, um, unfinished business that I need to take care of,” Ron said before logging off and pouncing on top of me, attacking me with kisses and love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: If you want to be added just shoot me a message!

@a-malfoy @amityyyjade @amourtentiaa @dracos-apple01 @georgeswh0re @lim-bus @partr1dge @weasleywhore07 @willowestelle

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 117: Movie

The thing about working with Harry Potter was that you never know what to expect.

Potter was a good teacher, Draco would give him that. It wasn't just the fame that made the kids like him; he really cared about them and they could tell.

He was also always coming up with crazy schemes and ideas.

"What are you doing?" Draco called to Potter who was on his broom, hanging the corner of what appeared to be a giant sheet on the wall of the castle.

Potter looked down and grinned at him, "Drive in movie!" he called back before he went back to securing the corner.

"What?"

"Hold on," he shouted before finishing the corner and flying back down, landing next to Draco. "I'm setting everything up for a drive in movie," he said, "We'll just have to forgo the cars."

"What?" he asked again because honestly none of those words made sense.

Potter laughed, the chuckle warm and fond, "Just wait and see. I'll even let you share my blanket," he added with a wink as he sauntered off leaving Draco just as confused as ever.

-------------

He didn't have to wait long. McGonagall announced that Professor Potter had set everything up for a movie the next night and the muggle-born students got so loud and excited that she had to use a sonorous charm to get them to quiet down.

He couldn't help but glance over at Potter who was grinning at them like they'd done something for him instead of the other way around.

Draco steadfastly reminded himself that he didn't find it charming.

-------------

(Read more below the cut)

"Can you help me?" Potter asked the next morning over breakfast.

Draco looked up from his newspaper, "It's Saturday," he replied.

The other man laughed, "It is."

"It's my day off," he reminded him.

"You're a teacher," Potter rejoined, "Do you ever really get a day off during the school year?"

He sighed, "What do you need help with?"

"Popcorn."

--------------

And that was how, several hours later, Draco found himself literally up to his elbows in popcorn, scooping it into little bags and handing it off to the students as they came and found spots for their blankets in the lawn.

"This is madness," he grumbled good naturedly at Potter who was dishing out popcorn beside him.

"Oh, come on," he said before interrupting himself. "Here, Julia," he offered, handing the girl a bag that he'd set aside, "I made that one with dairy-free butter just for you," he said.

"Thank you, Professor!" she said as she turned to run off to join her friends.

Potter wasn't sweet, he reminded himself.

"When was the last time you had this much fun?" Potter asked him.

He hummed, "Last month I got the flu," he said. "And having the flu meant that I got an entire 24 hours to myself to sleep, and read, and just," he shrugged, "be. And all of the students were glad to have me back the next day after Slughorn subbed for me."

Potter laughed and Draco's heart fluttered around disconcertingly in his chest. "Come on," he said again. "Look how happy they are." He shook his head, "They're free, Draco," he murmured. "They're free and happy, and they get to just be kids. And we get to give them that," he added.

"You are so," he broke off, not quite sure what to finish the thought with.

"What?" Potter asked.

He shrugged helplessly, "I don't know. You're just really something."

"You," he said with a little smile that he directed at Draco, "are something else, too."

Not like you, Draco thought but he couldn't quite find the nerve to say it.

--------------

True to his word, Potter shared his blanket; he shared two in fact, one that they sat on and one that they put over their laps.

It wouldn't help the rumors that the students always spread about the two of them but as the movie started playing Draco found that he didn't care. He was engrossed in the scenes playing out and unfolding right before his eyes, what an incredible contraption.

He glanced over at Potter partway through to see that the other man's eyes were already on him, a soft smile gracing his face. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," the other man said with a little shrug.

"Why are you watching me?" he whispered.

He shrugged, "I've seen this movie before."

There was a crash on screen and Draco's attention was drawn back to the movie and away from Potter once more.

He could still feel Potter's eyes watching him, though, and he couldn't help the way it made his limbs feel warm.

-------------

When the movie was over, a lot of students begged for another and Draco couldn't help but agree.

But Potter shook his head, "I've only got this one," he said, patting the reel that the film was on. "But we'll do it again another time, yeah?"

Slowly the students started to clear out and Draco stayed to help with clean up. It didn't take long and once everything was set to rights he still found himself loitering about, not quite wanting the night to end. "That was really something," he said with a little smile.

"Fun, right?" Potter agreed.

"A bit like magic."

He nodded, "It's incredible, isn't it? What Muggles have been able to accomplish without magic."

"Yes." Before he could think better of it, he open his mouth and asked, "Do you want to see the closest thing that I've ever seen to a movie?"

Potter nodded eagerly and Draco moved toward the blankets that they'd been using.

He laid down and Potter settled in next to him, their shoulders brushing. "My parents used to do this for me when I was little," he said as he drew his wand and pointed it the constellation that was his namesake, "Draco animari," he murmured and the dragon constellation appeared to come to life. Draco told the dragon's story, the story of how he came to live among the stars.

"Can you do Sirius?" Harry asked softly when Draco finished.

He nodded, "Sirius animari," he said and he watched and shared the story with Harry.

"That's really amazing," Harry said when he'd finished.

He turned his head to see that Harry was already looking at him. "Thanks."

"You're amazing," Harry added softly.

Draco huffed a laugh at him, "You're ridiculous."

"Maybe," Harry conceded with a little shrug, "but I really like you," he said earnestly.

"Oh?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound as breathless as he felt.

Harry smiled at him and nodded.

"Well, I just might like you, too," he replied softly.

Harry's grin widened, "I hoped you might."

"I think you probably ought to kiss me to make sure," he replied, heart beating a little quicker at his own daring.

The other man's grin grew large enough that his dimples appeared, "Is that so?"

He nodded and Harry rolled onto his side, hovering over Draco for just a moment before he lowered his head and captured Draco's lips in a sweet kiss.

"I think you ought to do it again, just to make sure," Draco murmured when Harry pulled back.

"I would," Harry said, "But I think we should probably move in off the front lawn first. Minerva won't be impressed if she could out and finds us here."

"Oh, I don't know about that."

Both of their heads snapped up to see that McGonagall was standing several meters away, looking up at the sky. "I might have been irritated if I hadn't just won the teachers' betting pool."

"Betting pool?" Draco yelped as he scrambled to his feet.

"Well of course," she replied. "The entire staff has been waiting for the two of you to stop tip-toeing around one another and make things official for ages."

Harry spluttered something unintelligible.

McGonagall continued, "But perhaps moving inside would be advisable," she finished.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied and Draco nodded once.

They'd barely made it through the front door when Harry burst out laughing, "A betting pool," he crowed.

He couldn't help but chuckle, "You're nuttier than a fruitcake."

"But you like me," he said, bumping Draco's shoulder with his.

"I do," he affirmed. "I really do."

-----------------

Day 116: Silver | Day 118: Glass

[startanewdream]

Padfoot & Minnie

Summary: Minerva meets Sirius for the first time after finding out he was innocent all along. (Companion piece for Afternoon tea)

Notes: I may take a time out of writing oneshots for a while because I want to dedicate to another project (I didn't forget any pending ask, I promise! - I'm just really excited with this new idea). But before that, please enjoy this moment that definitely happened between Sirius and Minerva.

It took two Order meetings until Minerva found herself face to face with Sirius Black alone at Grimmauld Place.

She was late for the meeting, having been almost followed by one Ministry employer (they had the right idea that she would stand with Dumbledore, but also the wrong idea that they could follow her), and she ought to enter the meeting room immediately, but she stopped at the sight of Sirius Black standing alone in another room, his arms crossed and looking rather thoughtful.

She took out her raincoat and stood still watching his figure.

Minerva had met other versions of Sirius Black in the past. First, that eleven-year-old boy who was too energetic and couldn't spend a day without plotting something with his best friend - then with his group of friends. Then that teenager who was trying desperately to stand aside from his family and made many mistakes in the process. Then an idealist soldier in a war that he was too young to be fighting.

Then he had been a traitor for years. Then an escaped convict.

And now he was a wrongly convicted innocent that seemed haunted by ghosts past.

The youthful Sirius Black that Minerva once knew was gone, replaced by that taciturn man who would only show a gleam when he was in the company of Remus Lupin or when he would speak of Harry Potter. And even then the light was dimmed in comparison to how bright Minerva had seen that boy in the past.

He turned to her and when their eyes met Minerva knew she couldn't delay this moment anymore. There were things she needed to tell him.

But he talked before she could when Minerva entered the dining room - or what resembled one in a very distant past.

'You got old, Professor'.

Minerva lifted her eyebrow.

'You got thinner'.

'Well, they don't keep a balanced diet in Azkaban. And last year it was mostly rats… did you ever eat one?'

'I beg your pardon?’

'Rats', he repeated, winking at her with so much mischief that for a moment she hoped to hear James' laugh echoing in the room. James always laughed at Sirius' jokes. 'They are actually tasty. Have you ever had one?'

'I most certainly have not'.

'Didn't even chase a little innocent mouse?'

'I know how to control my impulses, Mr. Black'.

'So there are impulses', he said, chuckling. 'I once chased a cat. Lily wasn't happy, but I told her I couldn't help myself'.

Minerva blinked.

'So the rumours were true after all?', she asked, trying not to sound very curious. 'You, Potter and…'

'Yeah, we managed that'. He gave her a lopsided smile. 'How many points would you give us for becoming animagus?'

'You mean awarding minors who took the risk of forever damaging their bodies to turn into unregistered animagi while breaking a few hundred school and wizarding rules?'

'I expected two hundred points at least', Sirius said, unabashed by her comment. 'It was impressive that we did it - and no one ever found out'.

'Turning into animals to hang out with a werewolf. You were out of your minds'.

'We were', Sirius agreed proudly. Minerva fought back a smile; Black and Potter had more talent than sense, and they knew it. They would thrive with the idea of becoming animagus.

'How old were you?'

'We started in Second Year. Accomplished just before the beginning of your Fifth Year'.

'Fifteen', she whispered. 'And it only took you two years?'

'We had a lot of free time', Sirius joked.

Minerva remembered the amount of mischief they caused and the equal amount of detention they got into. It didn't seem they had time - but they certainly had the drive to.

'How did you prepare the potion?'

'Bathroom of our dormitory. James knew a lot of house-elves because of the time he spent in the kitchens and we made them sworn secrecy'.

'And the mandrake?'

'We did it in the summer. A whole month silent. James wrote that his parents thought he was fulfilling a very weird promise. My parents didn't notice'.

Sirius looked around the room and then to the ceiling above with disdain. Minerva remembered talking to a young teenager, so full of anger and confusion; he hated his family so much that he had ran away. He'd promised he would never be like them - and then Minerva had thought Sirius had broken that promise when she saw the news he had betrayed the Potters.

Except they had all been wrong.

'Sirius - I am truly -'

'Don't be, Professor', Sirius said hurriedly. 'I understand why people believed I was the traitor. It was my idea to change the secret keeper without telling anyone after all - it's all my fault'.

He sounded so bitter that her heart broke a little.

'I do not believe it's your fault'.

'James and Lily are dead. If I had kept their secret -'

'You did. There is only one real traitor in this story and it's not you'.

Minerva thought of little Peter Pettigrew, so anxious to be like his friends. For years she thought she had been too hard with him - and now she wasn't sure of anything more.

'Thank you, Professor'.

Minerva hesitated for a few seconds.

'I am not your professor anymore, Sirius'.

'So I get to call you Minnie officially?', he asked, more joyful now.

She fought back a laugh.

'Only if you want to turn into a cactus. But I will allow you to call me Minerva'.

Sirius smiled and for a moment Minerva saw the ghost of the boy he once was.

_______

Remus yawned lazily. The best thing he could say about that meeting was that it was over quickly. Any meeting with the presence of Severus Snape felt heavier; no wonder Sirius had exploded in the first minutes of the meeting and left the room.

Remus knew he should go after him now, calm him down and explain what had been discussed. He hoped Sirius was feeling better, but he doubted it - that house brought too many memories for him.

Before he could go upstairs, he heard noises coming from the dining room opposite the kitchen.

He walked quietly to not wake up that infernal portrait of Sirius' mother and stopped at the door.

'Well', Sirius was saying, a note of joy in his voice that was rare these days. 'I can show you mine if you show me yours'.

'Mr. Black…'

'What happened with Sirius?'

'Maybe you are pushing your limits, Sirius'.

'It's just for a few seconds. I give you my word I won't even try to sniff… anything'.

'You can't be seri… well, you probably are anyway’.

‘Oh, I’m always serious. Think of it as a sort of welcoming gift after years with nothing more than dementors for company’.

There was a short silence, then a sigh. ‘Very well. I will grant your wish, this one time only'.

Remus heard a soft sound, then another heavy one, and then silence.

Curious, Remus pushed the door quietly. He did not know what he expected, but it wasn't this.

There was a familiar black dog lying lazily on the floor of the dusty room, but what surprised him really was the tabby cat above the dog, calmly pressing each of its front paws in the fur in the dog's back, in and out, almost distractedly, as if massaging the dog. Then the cat sat, the body covering its paws and ressembling a bread loaf, and caught sight of Remus; the cat threw him the most stern look he had even seen on a cat, looking almost as if daring him to say anything. Remus would recognize the glass marks around the cat's eyes anywhere even without that severe expression on its face.

On the ground, the dog winked at him.

Remus blinked in answer and closed the door quietly. No one would believe him if he told and in any case, this seemed like a moment between Sirius and Minerva anyway.

He just hoped James was watching this from wherever he was.

________

For reference:

Fonte: Pinterest

[marvelouspeterparker]

just little old me

pairing: harry styles x reader

summary: after releasing his second album, and the music video to his hit “watermelon sugar”, the response from his fans is overwhelmingly positive. and while you’re not surprised, harry on the other hand is very grateful, but just a little confused. but you’re more than happy to help clear some things up for him.

warnings: smut (hints of sub! and dom!harry––we love a switch) + unprotected sex but y’all know not to do that! be safe <3

word count: 3k

notes: this is my first ever harry fic! (also based on the summary u can see how long ago i started this sfjkdhgs) i’m so scared to post this i feel like all the harry writers are so talented––

[i’ve been reading harry fics for so long and these are just some of the blogs that you could say pushed my love for harry and inspired me to write a fic of my own: @majorharry​ @harryforvogue​​ @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy​​ @sunflowervolvimp3​​ @haroldloverboy​​​ @songbirdstyles​ if you haven’t read their stuff yet, you should! i reread them all the time!]

You and Harry had been friends for the longest time, since before he was the Harry Styles. You’d watched him grow up in the spotlight while you supported and loved him from the sidelines. He’d bring you everywhere with him when he could, or rather when you allowed him to––you didn’t like the idea of him spending his money on you, but he always waved you off, saying nothing was too much if it was for you.

You were so proud of what he’d achieved and what he’d become but he was still the same Harry you grew up with and you couldn’t be more grateful to have him in your life all this time.

While he rarely spent his time on social media, you spent a majority of your time checking your phone and refreshing your feeds––you just liked to be informed and up to date. Harry didn’t interact that frequently with his fans online, instead preferring the connection when you meet face to face. However, although he wouldn’t respond to people, he would often let you show him what people were saying––after all, he was human too and sometimes he would get a little curious.

You and Harry had been sitting on his couch for an hour now, him messaging Jeff to deal with work related things while you scrolled through twitter, looking at the fans reactions to Harry’s latest music video. It made you smile seeing how happy he made people, you’d seen several people had said that this was “exactly what we needed during this time” and honestly, you couldn’t agree more.

You scrolled down some more and genuinely laughed out loud at the next tweet you read. “I’d sell both my legs and arms just to be the watermelon slice between Harry’s teeth.”

You caught Harry’s attention and he looked over at you, raising a brow, a small smile on his lips. “What’s up?”

You settled down from your laughing fit and showed him the tweet and both his eyebrows raised.

He laughed sheepishly, “You know I really don’t get the ‘hype’”, he put the last word in air quotes. He was always trying to keep up with the latest “slang” as he would put it. He shrugged, a small smirk on his face “I’m just little old me.”

Though his face showed humor, after all the these years, you could tell from the look in his eyes that there was some truth behind his words.

You looked at him incredulously before rolling your eyes and putting your phone aside, unable to stop yourself from going off. “It’s because you’re so genuinely kindhearted, talented and incredibly attractive.” You said as a matter off factly, looking him right in the eye, before looking down at your hands and leaning further back into the couch. “And you have this aura about you––Literally anyone would get down on their knees for you if you asked––actually, no, you wouldn’t even have to ask. You could just look at them and they’d do it, no questions asked. They’d know what to do.”

You had no idea where the courage for you to say all that came from, but you have to admit something about seeing him biting into those watermelons and looking right in the camera three minutes straight while he sang about eating someone out put you on edge. You had been there for him through all his relationships and you loved having him as a friend...but being that close to Harry and not falling in love with him was practically impossible and you weren’t blind. I mean come on.

After a few moments had passed and he still hadn’t said anything, you looked up at him. He was sitting there, a serious look on his face as he stared you down, completely silent. He put his phone down on the table and leaned back, spreading his legs.

You quickly glanced down at his lap then back up to meet his eyes. “What––What are you doing?”

He looked you up and down. “Well according to you,” he tilted his head cheekily, “all I need to do is look at you, and you’ll know what to do.”

Your breath hitched, your brain malfunctioning.“I––You?” You shook your head, knowing that Harry wouldn’t be doing or saying anything if he didn’t mean it. You decided you’d ask questions later. After all, it’d been a while since you got with anybody and you were more than a little horny. You snapped out of your daze and made your way over to him, sliding down onto your knees right in front of him.

You pushed down the thought of how there were literally millions of other people who would kill to be in your position right now and focused on the task at hand. You looked up at him, silently asking for some direction but he shook his head slightly, “This is all you, love. You call the shots.”

You nodded to yourself, taking a deep breath as you calmed yourself down. “Can you take these off for me?” You asked, pulling on his shirt and his sweats.

He quickly got up and stripped himself of his shirt and his bottoms, but you stopped his hands before he could reach for his briefs. You cleared your throat, looking up at him, “I––I can do it.”

He smiled at you before dropping his hands at his sides, letting you do your thing.

You slowly brought the material down, letting his member spring free, trying not to stare too much because wow. You left a trail of soft kisses down his thighs as you pushed the underwear down his legs and you could feel him taking sharp breaths as you did so. He quickly stepped out of them and waited for you to tell him his next move. 

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and innocently sinful and he swore he felt himself swell up a little more. Your voice was small yet firm when you spoke up. “Can you sit down for me, please?”

He eagerly took a seat and placed his hands on his thighs, his ringed fingers spread out, anxiously tapping against his legs. You grabbed his member and he let out a shaky breath, eyes flitting between your hands on him and your face––both views entrancing him. 

“Is this okay, H?” You asked softly and he almost choked on his breath.

He nodded, “Y––Yeah, f’course it is lovie, shit.” 

You hummed, smiling as you leaned forward and swirled your tongue around his tip. You left open mouthed kisses along his shaft and licked along his cock, from the base to the top before spitting on it, spreading it with you hand and getting it nice and wet. His fingers were digging into his thighs and you couldn’t help but notice. 

You took your hand off of him and ignored the whine that escaped him as you did so. You took his hands in yours and placed them on your head, “You can.” You smiled gently and he nodded, his fingers grasping your strands firmly but not harsh enough to hurt you. 

You put your mouth back on him, stroking him as you took him into your mouth, bobbing your head, relishing in the small whimpers and moans of your name he let out. You were completely focused on him, tuning into what made him react the loudest and doing it over and over again just to hear those pretty sounds again. 

His fingers gripped your hair harder, his hips unwillingly bucking into you softly as he got closer. “M’gonna cum, love. Don’t––” He was mumbling, biting his lips as he looked down at you. When you sucked on his tip, looking him in the eyes, he cursed softly and let his head rest on the cushion, deciding it was too much to feel you and look at you if he wanted to last. “Don’t wanna cum just yet.” 

You hummed and pulled off of him, your hand still stroking him. “No?” You pouted playfully. He could hear it in your voice and it only made him twitch in your hand. 

“N––No.” He swallowed thickly and looked down at you, his eyes blown with lust. He reached down and pulled you up to stand between his legs. “Wanna make you feel good too.” You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face. “Not fair for me to be the only one getting what I want, is it?” He tilted his head, licking his lips as he looked up at you, his hands rubbing up and down the backs of your thighs teasingly. 

When you didn’t respond, his hands squeezed you. “Asked you a question, lovie.” 

You gasped lightly. “N––No it’s––not fair...” 

He smirked, reaching for your shorts. “Let’s take these off, yeah?” You nodded and let out a small yeah, and only then did his fingers slip into the waistband and pull the material down your legs. You placed your hands on his shoulders while he helped you step out of your bottoms. He looked up at you, a glint in his eyes as he reached for your panties, again, only pulling them down after you gave your verbal consent. He kept his eyes trained on yours the whole time he slipped them down, and if anything that made you feel more vulnerable––more open. 

When you stepped out of them, he trailed his hands up your thighs and along your hips before raising your shirt a bit. “Can you take this off for me?” You nodded and pulled the shirt over your head, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes as his hands splayed across your abdomen, his cold rings contrasting with the warm pressure of his fingertips. 

His hands slid up, and he smiled when you let out a breathless please when he asked for permission to touch your newly exposed skin. His eyes finally trailed down past your eyes, widening with arousal when they settled on your soft skin, your pebbled nipples, straining for attention. He rubbed his thumbs over the numbs ever so lightly, looking back up at you when you sighed and arched your back, leaning further into his touch, almost as if he wanted to commit it to memory. 

“Look at you, pet.” You whined softly at the nickname and the feeling of his hands on your skin. “So beautiful.” He grasped your breasts and now it was your turn to let out a shaky breath. 

He let his hands slide back down to your waist and you pouted, making him furrow his brows playfully. “Hey, none of that now.” He brought a hand up to hold your jaw. “Just realized we haven’t even had a proper kiss yet and you had me down your throat.” You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment but his thumb caressed your cheek soothingly, sliding over to run over your lips gently. “C’mere.”

You stepped into his embrace and pressed your lips against his, your hands coming to hold the side of his face and play with his hair, making him moan into you. His hand stayed at your jaw, the other sliding down your body to grab your ass firmly. Your lips slotted together perfectly as you pulled away and reconnected them softly every few seconds, thoroughly enjoying each other. He licked into your mouth and quickly took control of the kiss, not that you had any complaints, sucking on your tongue and pulling you in closer. He bit your lip and pulled away, smiling when you subconsciously tried to get more of his lips. 

His eyes trailed down to between your legs and they stayed there for a moment, distracted. “Gonna let me have a taste?” He licked his lips teasingly, looking back up at you. “I just wanna taste it.” He referenced his song, a small smile on his lips. 

You rolled your eyes, a smile on your face as well. “Harry.”

“What?” He shrugged innocently. “M’just being honest.” 

“You actually want to? You don’t have––”

“Been dying to, pet. You don’t know how long I’ve been aching to get my mouth on you.” He got down on his knees and the sight of him looking up at you from that position made your whole body shiver. 

He placed his hands on your thighs. “What do you say? Gonna let me have my dessert?” 

You nodded, letting out a small okay. When you tried to sit down where he had just been seated, he shook his head and stopped you, taking one hand and lifting your leg to place it on his shoulder. Your eyes widened, your mouth dropping open as he placed your hands in his hair to steady you. 

He had the audacity to ask, “You good?” 

You nodded, dazed. “Uh, yeah.”

“Good.” He smiled and with that he leaned forward and licked through your folds, immediately kissing your clit, holding you as your head tipped back in surprise.

“Shit, Harry––” Your fingers gripped his curls, pulling him into you as he moaned. Of course he was enjoying himself as he pleased you. His tongue was moving with purpose as he lapped up your wetness, spreading it around your clit. He really knew how to use his mouth.

You moaned loudly when he sucked on your clit, and even louder when he used the tip of his tongue to trace on it, realizing what he was spelling out–– H A R R Y. He grinned when he realized you caught on and his fingers were digging into you as he held you up, letting you desperately grind onto his face. 

You looked down to make sure he was still okay with all of this, shocked to see him looking up at you, watching your reactions, clearly pleased. You cursed softly. “Feels really good, Harry. Fuck––” 

He hummed blissfully, properly burying himself in you, his eyes stuck on your body as he brought you to the edge rather quickly. “Gonna cum in my mouth, baby?” 

You whined, nodding your head as you held onto him for dear life. “M’so close.”

“Cum for me, pet. I want it.” He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, holding you upright as your body shivered and convulsed in his hands and on his tongue. He didn’t let up, fully making love to your clit with his tongue as he kissed your lower lips passionately, getting his light stubble wet. He was making a proper mess but neither of you cared. 

When your legs stopped trembling, he pressed a kiss to your clit, then to the thigh over his shoulder before placing your leg back on the ground. He looked up at you, a smug grin on his face as you looked at him, breathless. He stood up, his hands finding their place on your hips and he licked the rest of your juices that were still on his lips, his chin still slick with your arousal. 

“Care to clean me up, love?” He leaned closer. “Is your mess after all.” 

You smirked before leaning in and licking up your wetness from his chin and up his lips before bringing him in for a messy, passionate kiss. Without disconnecting your lips your turned him around and pushed him onto the couch, taking your seat on his lap, his arms wrapping around you instinctively. 

You wrapped your hand around his base, smiling down at him when he pulled away to whine. You lifted yourself up a bit and swiped him through the mess he made between your thighs. “Can I ride you, H?” You asked him, teasingly sweet. 

He threw his head back, “Christ, y’can do whatever you want to me, love.”

You kissed his neck and slid him into you, and his fingers dug into you as he let out a long moan. 

“God, you feel even better than I’d imagined.”

You tilted your head, starting to bounce and grind on him, “You’ve thought about this?” 

“Of course I have. Have you seen yourself?” You were about to push further when he slid a hand down to rub at your clit, making you gasp and grind down on him harder.

“Oh fuck, H.”

He grinned, thrusting into you. “That feel good?”

You nodded. “So good.” 

His hand was holding your hip as he bucked his hips into you. How he found your spot so quickly, you have no idea. You tilted your head back and he grabbed your neck gently, making your eyes widen as you looked down at him, noticing the dark look in his eyes as he watched you come undone on his cock.

When he noticed you getting close, he pulled you in to rest on him and your wrapped your arms around his shoulders, whimpering into his neck as he started to fuck you harder, his hips finding a smooth rhythm easily. 

You kissed his skin, marking it up as you sat there and took everything he was giving you. He was still sensitive from before, but he didn’t want to finish before you did, again. “Come on, pet. Give it to me. Just one more so I can fill you up.”

You groaned, your lips grazing his skin as your legs started to tremble, your walls clenching around him, coaxing him to tip over the edge with you. Your body shook as you whimpered, your body tensing.

“That’s it, just like that.” He grunted, thrusting a few more times before he released inside of you, the both of you moaning together.  

He wrapped his arms around you tight, holding you close as he thrusted slowly, making sure to empty himself out inside of you. You both sighed softly and you sat up. He looked up at you, pure adoration and awe in his eyes, his arms still holding you. You placed your hands on his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You smiled sheepishly.

He smiled back, kissing you softly before pulling back to look at you again, his head resting against the couch. “Hi.” 

You looked down, deciding to focus on his tattoos, suddenly nervous. “I’ve uh––sort of wanted to do that for a while.”

He unwound his arms to caress your back with his hands. “Mm me too.” He smiled when you looked up at him. 

“I really like you, H.” 

“Well I guess it’s a good thing that I like you too, then.” He squeezed you playfully. “Would you like to go out on a date this week?”

You smiled, leaning forward to kiss him again. “I’d love to.” 

[queenshelby]

Roommates – Part Fourteen

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,580

Warning: Fluff

Note: This plays in 2020. It’s all fiction and not based on Cillian’s real life and family.

It has been a week since Cillian found out about Laura’s lie and, as expected, it took him some time to come to terms with it. Whilst, on one hand, he was relieved that she wasn’t pregnant after all he had been through with her, he was also somewhat disappointed by it. After all, he had been looking forward to finally becoming a father after him and his ex-wife Lindsay went through IVF for many years unsuccessfully.  

Luckily for him, you knew that he was struggling and you were there to pick up the pieces and support him through this horrible initial week after he had found out.

Unfortunately for you, Laura had also since found out that you were involved with Cillian and ceased the opportunity to seek revenge which, for some reason, she still thought she was entitled to. Her friendship with most of your mutual friends had been destroyed after it was found out what she did. But this wasn’t your fault you thought. It was hers alone.

After sending you at least ten text messages, telling you how you were the most horrible person who had ever walked this earth, she informed James and most of your other friends and Cillian’s family about your relationship with Cillian in order to get them to turn on you instead of her.

As a result, James kept calling, messaging and emailing you constantly and you ran out of options on how to block him after he obtained several new phone numbers and email addresses so that he could harass you, thinking that you had been involved with Cillian for years.

As for your family and friends, you found it difficult to explain to them that there was only some truth to what Laura was saying. You tried hard to make clear to them that you were not in a relationship with Cillian and it was Cillian’s mother herself who didn’t take your and her son’s explanations serious.

‘I think my mother is set on the idea that we are together’ Cillian chuckled as he handed you the invitation to her 70th birthday which specifically mentioned you as his plus one.

‘She told me about it already. She also enquires about your wellbeing on a daily basis, darling. Apparently, you aren’t very forthcoming to her about your feelings. Luckily, her birthday not until after Christmas’ you laughed.

You had always gotten along well with Cillian’s mother since you met her almost ten years ago.

‘I am not sure if I should be more amused by the fact that my mother talks to you more often than to me or that she thinks that we will be out of lockdown by January next year’ Cillian then said, smiling before offering you a cup of tea.

‘Well, you know your mum and I get on like a house on fire, sweetheart’ you then joked before approaching Cillian and kissing him gently.

You didn’t usually kiss. Kissing was only to initiate sex which you have had plenty off over the past week even while Cillian was feeling rather depressed about what happened.

You knew that sex would get his mind of the pain Laura had caused him and you were more than willing to distract him from all the madness in his life.

In turn, sex led to you sharing a bed and, since you had sex every night and sometimes even during the day, you pretty much slept in the same room continuously for weeks on end. Sometimes you would stay in Cillian’s room while, on other nights, he would come to yours. It was almost like musical chairs.

But tonight, this was all about to change as, in the morning, you had just gotten your first period since you started being intimate with each other.

As such, you quickly apologised for the kiss you had just given him to ensure that he wouldn’t get the wrong idea about your intentions.

‘Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to initiate anything. I was just sneaking in a cheeky little kiss’ you said somewhat embarrassed as you quickly pulled away from the kiss.

‘No period sex then I suppose?’ Cillian joked, knowing very well that this was off the table for you even though he had explained to you that it wouldn’t bother him.

‘Absolutely not Cillian’ you giggled before reaching for some more of the pain killers on the kitchen counter.

‘Well, if you change your mind tonight, you know where my bedroom is’ Cillian winked and you couldn’t help but shake your head in disgust.

‘Trust me Cilly, I won’t’ you chuckled.

‘Alright then. No sex tonight. Got it’ Cillian chuckled before offering you to fill up your hot water bottle. ‘How about I fill this up for you, we have some wine, order some pizza and watch a movie?’ Cillian suggested as he took the hot water bottle from you.

‘That would be nice’ you said, smiling and wanting to kiss him again, but refraining from doing so for obvious reasons. You reminded yourself that you weren’t more than friends with benefits, regardless of the rumours out there which Laura had spread.

***

Half an hour later, you finally settled in the living room with your hot water bottle and two glasses of red wine.

Being so close to Cillian and unable to be intimate with him bothered you and you could see that it bothered him too as he tried hard to keep his hands to himself.

Occasionally, you felt his hand brush over the top of your cotton pants and then move away quickly as if he was a shy little school boy who was doing something naughty and who thought you wouldn’t notice.

It was strange, the fact that you both only ever showed affection towards each other while, before or after you were having sex. But then again, of course, it was normal considering your arrangement. You were friends and, if kissing wouldn’t turn you both on so incredibly much, you probably wouldn’t even be doing that in the bedroom.

But even just in that moment, where he was sitting next to you and was watching a movie with you, you wanted to kiss him desperately and a kiss was all you wanted.

You felt the urge to snuggle up against him and rest your head against his chest but you thought that this also would be inappropriate you restrained yourself from it for the remainder of the evening.

***

At around 10 o’clock, you finally called it a night. You were tired and exhausted and needed a good nights’ sleep.

Unfortunately for you, sleep was something you struggled with and it was when you lay in your bed for an hour, tossing and turning with your eyes wide open, that you realised what was missing.

It was the warmth which would normally radiate from Cillian’s body when you cuddled up against him and it was the scent of his skin you breathed in when laying in his arms.

Even if you couldn’t be intimate with him, you wanted to be near him, kiss him and cuddle him and feeling this way about him wasn’t something you were prepared for.

***

Little did you know that you weren’t the only one craving this kind of closeness and non-sexual intimacy. Cillian also was laying on his bed, restless and unable to sleep, realising that something was missing.

He adored the smell of your hair and the softness of your skin pressed against his. He loved spooning against you while you held his arms tight as he wrapped them around you.

He also loved the little sounds you were making in your dreams when there was clearly something pleasurable on your mind.

He soon realised that his efforts to simply fall asleep like this on his own were going to be futile and he decided to get himself another glass of water from the kitchen and settle with a book until he would be tired enough to go back to bed and try again.

***

‘Still up?’ Cillian asked as he walked into the kitchen and saw you filling up your hot water bottle again.

‘I can’t sleep’ you pouted while moving aside and allowing Cillian to fill up his glass.

‘Me neither’ Cillian then said before making a suggestion which could possibly change that.

‘Do you…uhm…want company…in bed?’ Cillian then shuddered somewhat reluctantly.

‘Cillian, I am not going to have sex with you, I told you that’ you said somewhat amused by the fact that he was still trying to convince you otherwise.

‘I didn’t mean for us to have sex Y/N’ Cillian then explained and your eyes widened immediately.

‘So, you mean just us sharing a bed to sleep?’ you asked confused, causing Cillian to nod.

‘Just to sleep and maybe kiss…if you want to’ Cillian said almost shyly.

‘Just kissing?’ you asked again, unsure about his motives.

‘Just kissing’ Cillian confirmed.

 Tag List:

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @ @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  

[ilovefandoms102]

My Everything

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Rafe throws a party and his ex shows up...

Note: I realized that I have not written anything for Rafe and plus size reader so here we go🥰

Click here to be apart of my taglist

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

I wouldn’t call myself a Pogue or a Kook, I’m just Y/n. I grew up here in Outer Banks in the middle of The Cut and Figure Eight. I guess I never really fit in either group because no one really took interest in having me around. That was until I met Rafe Cameron…

I met Rafe at a kegger one night a little over eight months ago since everyone was celebrating school being out. Truthfully, I had always known who Rafe was, but I was too afraid to ever talk to him because he was among the popular crowd who weren’t all that fond of me. You see, I’m not like every other blonde girl that lives here, I’m not what society considers the standard beauty.

Rafe however made me see my worth, he treated me like I walked on water. Not to mention he was completely obsessed with my body and just me in general. I had never felt the things I feel being with Rafe.

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

Rafe was having a house party tonight and begged me to go so he wouldn’t have to listen to his friends all night. I couldn’t deny his puppy dog pout that got me every time he wanted something.

“Please, please baby come! I don’t want to be by myself.” he whined through the phone, the camera right up to his pouting lips as he FaceTimed me.

“Rafe, you have your friends and your sister, why do I need to go?” I complained, truthfully not wanting to go.

“Because I want you to,” he scoffed, as if I had just asked the stupidest question.

“What’s in it for me?” I asked, smirking slightly.

“Whatever you want baby I swear!” Rafe grinned, knowing he was getting his way.

“Hmmm...maybe we could Netflix and chill after the stupid thing-” I suggested.

“Deal,” he said with no hesitation.

“You didn’t let me finish handsome,” I chuckled, smirking evilly at the camera.

“Oh my god if I have to watch Harry Potter again baby I swear-” he said as he glared at me.

“You know you love it, don’t even try to deny it.” I giggled, shaking my head as his cheeks flushed.

“So you’ll come then?” Rafe sighed, smiling his real genuine smile that made my heart melt.

“Yes baby,” I said softly, giggling more when he cheered loudly.

“I’ll be over soon sweetheart so don’t start getting ready yet!” He grinned, jumping into his truck.

“Why?” I asked, curious to his oddly specific request.

“I want to help you get ready,” he smirked.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure you’ll be real help Rafey.” I nodded sarcastically.

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

After Rafe came over, we headed back to his house where the party was already in full swing. Kooks crowded every corner of the Cameron house which made you shrink back into Rafe a little more. Since the two of you started dating, people knew better than to even look at me the wrong way.

Still, I couldn’t help but to flinch anytime one of them came near me. Rafe took me to the sitting room where some of his friends and their girlfriends were. I sat with Sarah who I found I was the most comfortable being around in the whole room aside from Rafe. We had become quite close within these months, so I immediately planted myself beside her.

“Hey girlie! I’m so happy you came tonight, I thought I was going to be alone with all of these boys and their bimbos.” Sarah smiles, hugging me as I sat down.

“I’m hoping not to be here long, I hate parties.” I mumbled, scooting closer to her as more people tried to squeeze on the couch to get a line of blow from the stash sitting on the table.

Rafe had calmed down tremendously since with the drugs since meeting me, he admitted once that he wanted to be 100% into our relationship with nothing coming between us. I smiled thinking of the memory, but was quickly ripped away by a very loud voice.

“Hey Kooks!” Bri shouted, making me sink back into the couch more.

Bri is Rafe’s ex, she was absolutely gorgeous. I didn’t know their backstory, never really cared to bring it up either. Their past obviously bothered him still as he would almost flinch every time he heard her or saw her.

Rafe got up from his seat before she could sit beside him, rushing over to where Sarah and I were. I smirked as he came closer, biting down on my lip as he towered over me.

“Miss me already bubs?” I teased, smiling up at him.

“I’m going to get a drink my love, I was coming to see if you wanted one.” he chuckled, leaning down and kissing my lips sweetly. Sarah left after that immediately, claiming we were ‘gross’.

“I’m probably going to head up for a shower, I’m partied out.” I admitted, standing up from the couch.

“Oh, um ok...I’ll see you in a little bit then.” he said, but it sounded like more of a question than a statement.

“Yes baby, I’ll just be in your room.” I giggled, getting on my tipey toes and kissing him again.

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

Rafe had a huge shower, and I used every opportunity to use it not only because it was aesthetically pleasing, but because it felt nice compared to the tiny shower I share with my whole family. I was lost in thought until I saw a familiar blonde head through the glass of the shower door.

“Hey, are we ok?” Rafe asked hesitantly, an almost scared look in his eyes.

“Yeah...why wouldn’t we be?” I asked, confused where that came from.

“Well because um...Bri was here.” he said, looking down at his feet as if he were guilty.

“I saw her Rafey,” I chuckled.

“And I-we...we ya know, used to have a thing.” he said cautiously.

“You told me love,” I said, still confused where he was going with this.

“She still hangs out with our friends and I um-I just don’t want you to be mad at me.” he whispered.

“Baby I have no reason to be mad at you.” I spoke softly, stopping what I was doing to walk a little closer to the door.

“So we’re good? Everything is good?” he asked, pouting slightly which melted my heart.

“Yes everything is ok honey,” I reassured with a smile.

“S-So I can come in?” He asked.

“Of course you can, it’s your shower.” I giggled, watching him strip from behind the fogged glass.

Once he stepped inside and under the water with me, his shoulders relaxed immediately. I reached my hands up and massaged them lightly, feeling the tense knots under his tanned skin. His arms went around me, pulling me as close as possible.

“She broke my heart,” he blurted, opening his eyes as the water ran down his face.

“Rafey,” I whispered, my heart breaking as I could see the hurt in his eyes.

“We were together for three years and-” he started, but stopped as his words seemed to get stuck in his throat. I ran my hands up his chest, stopping at the base of his neck and resting them there.

“Baby you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.” I said, softly kissing his cheek.

“No I-I want to.” Rafe nodded, leaning his forehead to mine.

“Ok, so what happened?” I questioned, trying to help him get started.

“She had been cheating on me our entire relationship.” he revealed, my eyes widening at his statement.

“I’m so sorry Rafe,” I sympathized, moving my hands to his cheeks and rubbing them lightly with my thumbs.

“I broke up with her a few months before I met you, and you...it was instant.” he recalled, shaking his head and staring at me in awe.

“What was instant?” I pressed, wondering what exactly he meant by that.

“Falling in love with you,” he confessed, smiling.

“Rafe,” I beamed, heart skyrocketing.

“You put my pieces back together baby, you’re my everything, my savior.” Rafe professed, sealing it with a sweet kiss.

“I love you Rafey,” I whispered against his lips.

“I love you forever angel,” he whispered back.

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

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[midgardianweasley]

Angry love confession with Harry..?

Here you go Darling, hope you like it <33

It’s you

Harry Potter x Slytherinfem!reader

Summary: Harry has been admiring his best friend, Y/N in a new light Hoping to keep his feelings under the radar, he doesn’t say a word. In a jealous temper at seeing Draco constantly on the scene, he accidentally confesses everything to her, not expecting her response.

Warnings: Angry Harry angry Harry angry Harry

Word Count: 1663 words

Message/ask if you’d like to be on the taglist <3

“Harry, mate, you still with us?” A confused Ron snapped his fingers in front of Harry’s face, seeing his friend look like he was in a different universe. He turned to Hermione when he didn’t get any response except a blank stare, shrugging and deciding to just let Harry bring himself out of his daydream when he’s ready. He’d been doing this more and more often recently, zoning out halfway through conversations and disengaging. Ron wasn’t entirely sure about what was going on with Harry, sensing his irritability, he chose to leave it be. Hermione however, she’d noticed how the Y/H/C slytherin girl, Harry’s best friend since the first day of first year four years ago, had been catching his eye whenever they were in the same room. Something changed during the summer between their third and fourth year, they’d kept in touch while Harry was with the Dursley’s and during his week at the Burrow, but they hadn’t had a chance to see each other, and when Harry saw Y/N walk onto the platform, something felt different.

It had been months of stares from across the room, lingering touches and prolonged eye contact, but no word of a confession to the Slytherin girl. It was painful to watch at times, sometimes Hermione wondered why he didn’t just tell her, it wasn’t like they weren’t comfortable with each other or couldn’t talk about it, they were practically joined at the hip. When following his gaze, her thoughts were soon answered when she saw who the girl was sitting and giggling with. Draco Malfoy. The one person Harry couldn’t stand since their first interaction in first year. Since then, Harry has avoided him at all costs, only conversing when Draco decided to make a comment towards him to rile him up one way or another, even then, Harry had done his best to ignore it, for both himself and for Y/N, he knew they were close, they were in the same house after all. Still, that couldn’t stop his anger towards the platinum haired boy when seeing his hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Do you know why Potter keeps looking at us?” Draco spoke, briefly looking over at the Gryffindor table, making Y/N raise her eyebrows in confusion

“What do you mean?”

“He keeps glaring over here, maybe he’s upset about his last quidditch practice. I mean, did you see how the Weaslebee’s were playing?” He chuckled

With a shake of her head, she looked up, trying to see if she can meet his gaze.

Upon seeing Y/N look up and towards him, Harry quickly looked away, acting as though he was deep in conversation with his friends, pretending he hadn’t just been admiring the way she tilted her head back when she laughed, smile as bright as ever. Despite his attempt at subtlety, she’d noticed the small glances he took during classes together and the way a small blush would creep onto his face when she’d compliment him. With this, she also noticed the way he would suddenly shut himself off whenever Draco was brought up and when his mood changed whenever he had seen or heard of the both of them hanging out or talking to one another. Y/N never understood why he’d been acting so..jealous? Surely he knew how she’d been admiring him for the last year? Right? She’d been so obvious, the late nights talking about everything and nothing, the trips to Hogsmeade that was just the two of them. He had to have realised? She’d shoved the thought away after seeing how he looked at Cho, believing she was the one he wanted, and despite her being taken by the Hufflepuff boy, Cedric, she didn’t want to jeopardize something her best friend wanted.

“I wish you’d just tell her by now” Hermione cut off her previous conversation to address Harry “What are you talking about Hermione?”

“Yeah, I wanna know what you’re on about too ‘Mione” The red haired boy mumbled, having just taken a big mouthful of fried chicken.

“I think you know exactly what i’m talking about”

“No I genuinely have no idea”

“Not you Ronald, Harry.”

“Leave it Hermione, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You can’t just keep this to yourself forever, You need to say something eventually”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Harry snapped. “If you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be” He stood up abruptly, making his way out of the Great Hall, unaware that he’d caught the eye of girl in green robes, who’d watched the scene unfold and left Draco to mutter to himself while she went to find her best friend, determined to get to the bottom of what was going on.

“I still have no idea what’s happening, can someone please fill me in??” Ron exclaimed, once again confused, leaving Hermione to simply roll her eyes, seeing Y/N’s robes float behind her as she walked out, out of the corner of her eye in the process, hope filling her that they’ll finally just get together.

Walking quickly through the halls, Harry mumbled to himself, mainly comments about Draco and the occasional one about himself. In some ways, he wished these feelings just weren’t there in the first place, it had been eating him alive, consuming him and the people around him. He’d noticed how Ron was on edge to speak around him, how Hermione had been agitated at his stubbornness and worst of all, how defeated Y/N would look when he’d go in his moods about Draco. He knew that he couldn’t stop them from being friends, not that he’d ever try, but it didn’t change the fire in his stomach when looking at them.

“Harry! Harry stop!” Y/N shouted, running to try and keep up with his speedwalking.

“Go back to dinner, Y/N, I’m fine.” Still walking and not facing her, she continued to chase him.

“Harry, please, I know you’re not fine.” She pleaded, trying to take his arm, he’d pulled away before she could attempt to stop him, but he’d stopped walking, progress.

“Can you just leave it? I want to be alone, you can go back to Draco” Draco’s name spoken with venom.

“Well I don’t want to. I want to know what’s wrong with you. I want to understand why you’ve been acting so differently recently. It’s unlike you.”

“Unlike me. That’s it, because I can’t just be having a bad time, no? I have to be happy and smiling all the time, right?”

“That’s not-”

“Not what you meant, yeah, I guessed. No, you’re right, I shouldn’t be acting the way I am.” He raised his voice, hands reaching up to pull at his hair, something he always did when he was stressed or angry. “I should sit there and smile, I shouldn't be upset, how can I be? I’m at a school for magic. I’m away from a ‘family’ who hates the sight of me, I’m surrounded by friends, I’m watching the girl I might be in love with, love someone else.” He rambled, starting to pace now, voice increasing with frustration. Pushing her feelings aside, she begins to speak again.

“I know it’s hard, i get it, but Cho-”

“Cho? What’s Cho got to do with this?” He sputtered, flailing his arms around as he spoke.

“Cho, the ravenclaw girl, the girl you might be in love with” He scoffs at her response

“Cho? You really think that’s who it is?”

“Harry, I don’t under-”

“It’s YOU!” He shouts, taking Y/N by surprise.

“It’s- what?”

“It’s you. It has been since we came back at the start of the school year.” He says, a wave of relief coming over him before quickly being replaced with anxiety. Thoughts started racing through his mind. Had he just ruined his friendship? Is she actually with Malfoy and not just friends?

Seeing the distress on his face, Y/N stepped forward, gently taking his wrists to pull his hands that had returned to pulling at his hair, down by his sides. The halls were silent now, if someone dropped a sickle, they’d be able to hear it from where they stood. She carefully adjusted her hands so they now were holding his, fingers intertwined before softly whispering

“It’s you too, you know”

“It’s me?”

“It’s been you for the last year. I thought you’d noticed but, i was clearly wrong” she laughed, Harry smiled, seeing his favourite expression etched onto her face.

“Where do we go from here?” Harry responded, slowly but surely calming down from his outburst, all previous stress, anxiety, irritability fading away with every second her hand was in his. She stepped closer to him, feeling his breath against her forehead, she blushed at the close proximity. Gently, she leaned up, having to go on her tiptoes slightly due to the height difference, and pressed her lips against his. Harry took one of his hands from hers, replacing it with the side of her face instead, pulling her closer while she rested her free hand on his chest as they both smiled into the kiss.

While the halls were still, the couple couldn’t hear, their focus being entirely on each other, but if they had focused their hearing, they’d be able to hear a “So that’s what you guys were on about, finally.” and a “Shhh Ronald” from a redhead and brunette pair who were watching them from around a corner. Both silently smiling at seeing Harry the happiest he’s been since the start of the year.

[for-fucks-sake-h]

At My Weakest - two

rated: m, mature | word count: 4.2k | story page  

“I wanna taste you again. Like a secret or a sin.”

  - Matthew Perryman Jones 

When Gianna stirred awake, she wasn’t surprised to find Harry laying beside her. What she was surprised about though was the absolute softness of his face. 

The lines of his cheekbone and jaw were still sharp, but his skin was completely smooth. The usual indent between his brows was nonexistent, and his hair was a beautiful curly mess. She found herself reaching out to smooth some stray curls back behind his ear, her fingertips just barely brushing his soft skin. 

He didn’t disappoint once he got her in his bed. Turns out his smug, cocky demeanor could be backed up, and backed up well. He wasn’t short on foreplay, he didn’t rush into it. If anything, he drew out the string of anticipation so ridiculously thin it snapped; until they were all hands and mouths and moans and pleasure. 

It was good. It was fun. It was a much needed distraction.

But it looked different in the daylight. 

What was passionate gasps and needy hands in the dimmed moonlight, was just a sloppy rebound fuck with a friend in the early morning daylight. 

Gianna was careful to slip out of bed, nakedly grabbing her borrowed sweater from the floor before tiptoeing to his bathroom. And when she returned, she was met with green eyes and tousled hair. 

“Thought you left.” His voice was even deeper than usual, the early morning rasp doing nothing to quell Gianna’s increasingly warming skin. “Didn’t think you were a hit and run kinda person.” 

Gianna breathed a soft laugh as she made her way over to him in just her sweater.

“No, but I should probably get my ass on the couch before your sister wakes up.” 

“Y’know she sleeps like the dead.” He watched her as he fiddled with the corner of his duvet, eyes tracing the curve of her hip where the sweater ended against her caramel skin. “Could give you one more before you go.”  

The lightness of his eyes looked iridescent in the morning light, especially in comparison to the blown out brown of Gianna’s staring back at him.  

He sat up just then, the dark emerald sheet slipping down his chest to rest casually across his bare hips. He was a sight with his unruly hair falling over his collar bones and his toned chest and stomach on full display. 

“In fact,” he started as he scooted down the bed until he was right in front of her, his feet meeting the ground as he pulled her closer between his thighs, “was thinking we could do this whenever you want.” 

Gianna’s hands found his bare shoulders, his skin still incredibly warm from sleep and as soft as it looked. 

“Is this my sweater?” Harry asked suddenly as he looked down to where he played with the knitted fabric at her hips, his hands slowly splaying out on Gianna’s bare thighs.  

“Gemma gave it to me last night,” she responded softly.  

“Hm. Anyway… could be a perfect fit for both of us,” Harry murmured, his head tilted up towards Gianna’s, his lips inches from hers. The innuendo was embedded in his tone and the look on his face, and even more blatantly obvious when the most subtle indent of a dimple teased its way onto his cheek.  

It would be too easy for Gianna to take him up on the offer, crawl back into bed with him and let him bring her over the edge as many times as he wanted; as many times as she wanted. But for as sexy and generous as he’d been, she knew it wasn’t the best idea and something she shouldn’t get used to.  

Gianna sighed with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder blade. “H…” 

“G,” Harry rebutted in a playful tone. 

“Probably not a good idea.”  

“I beg to differ. Think it’s a great idea. My best idea yet.”  

“Last night was fun,” Gianna offered gently. “I just don’t think we should make a habit out of it. I have a lot going on and I don’t want to drag you—”

“—Hey, say no more.”  

If Harry’s ego was bruised from the rejection, he didn’t show it.  

Instead, he pushed himself up from the bed as she took a step back, the sheet knowingly falling away from his body as he stood before her at his full height. They were nearly chest to chest, and it took everything inside Gianna to ignore the way her nipples pebbled beneath the soft fabric of her sweater.  

“The offer’s available if you ever want it.”  His lips curled around every word, only making his offer even more overwhelmingly enticing.   

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, his chest brushed against her arm as he carelessly moved around her to head to the bathroom, completely naked, every inch of his body on display.  

If he felt Gianna’s eyes on him, he didn’t show it.   

A fresh steam of her reworn silk skirt and sheer button down blouse later, and the party was in full swing, guests arriving one after another to her parents home.  

Gianna was lucky to have arrived when she did, the distraction of guests doing her every favor to hold off the inevitable questions from her family. A quick comment that Steve was held up at work was as far into it as she could get before her mother was whisked away by one thing or another. Gianna wasn’t so worried about the lie as she was her delivery of said lie. 

The end of her relationship was the last thing she felt like discussing at her fathers 50th birthday celebration.  

The one thing she didn’t anticipate was the possibility of Steve showing up.  

She saw him as soon as he walked through the front door, his polo shirt and perfectly styled hair immediately catching her eye.  His eyes scanned the room in search of her, and it felt like her heart could literally drop out of her ass.  

Gianna excused herself from her fathers colleagues before making her way toward him, her blood boiling as her heart pounded in her chest.  

“What are you doing here?” She whispered harshly as she pulled him aside, eyes ablaze as she looked at him.  

“You haven’t been answering your phone.”  His response was so casual for someone who blew up their life together without a second thought.  

“Yeah you lost that privilege yesterday, Steve.”  

“Gianna, please. Let’s just talk about this.”  

“You need to leave.”  

“Gianna—”

“Y’alright?”  Gianna turned to look up at the sound of the intruder's voice, her eyes meeting Harry’s expressionless face immediately.  

Gianna was quick to reel in her emotions as well, instead smiling and greeting Harry and Gemma and their parents.  

“Hi guys! Yeah, yeah, all good. Steve was just leaving,” Gianna continued to smile despite the confused look on Harry and Gemma’s parents faces. “He’s gotta work.” 

Steve huffed. “You’re being ridiculous.”  

“Let’s go find Lisa!” Gemma suggested to her parents with a gentle guide on both of their backs.   

“Oh, she’s in the kitchen.” Gianna pointed in the direction of her mother and released a sigh when they headed that way.  

Gianna turned back to Steve the moment they were out of earshot. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”  

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but Harry was quick to interject. “Think she told you to go.”  

Gianna watched the anger wash over Steve’s face as he turned to Harry.

“Shouldn’t take me telling you for you to listen,” Harry added with a disapproving shake of his head.

That confidence Harry exuded? Yeah, it came in handy in a wide array of situations.  

“Don’t make me kick you out of here,” Gianna told Steve. “I don’t want to cause a scene and embarrass my mum but I will if I have to.”  

Harry took the most subtle step closer. He really only sort of shifted his weight towards Gianna more, barely enough to even notice, but judging by Steve’s disgruntled face, he noticed.  

Gianna noticed too.  

“We’re going to talk about this later.”  Just the sound of Steve’s voice made Gianna’s heart plummet. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but it was. 

She watched him turn around with an exasperated huff, a withheld breath escaping her when he disappeared through the front door.  

“Y’okay?”  

Gianna momentarily forgot Harry was still standing beside her.  “Yeah,” she nodded. “Gonna go hide for a bit and collect myself.”  

She didn’t wait for his response before she disappeared upstairs with tears welling in her eyes.  

Who did Steve think he was?  Just showing up at her parents home as if nothing happened? Something did happen. A lot of shit happened.  Many words were exchanged and the way Gianna left their home and didn’t look back said even more then her frustrated, broken words.  

Gianna didn’t know how long she hid in her childhood bathroom, but apparently it was long enough for someone to come looking for her when she heard the softest tap on the door.  

She wasn’t crying, that was a plus. So she braced herself for her mother to be undoubtedly on the other side of the door, but opened it slowly to find none other than Harry leaned up against the doorframe, his face closer than she would have expected.  

His chin was pointed down towards his chest, leaving him to look up at her through his lashes with his eyebrows raised high and the lines across his forehead even more prominent.  

“Just checking on you. Y’don’t have to come out yet if you don’t wanna.”  

Gianna leaned against the wall so that she was standing parallel to him, her body lining up perfectly with his, both of their arms crossed over their chests, the door to the bathroom propped open just enough for them to see each other.  

“Is my mum looking for me?”  

He pursed his lips with regret. “I did hear her say your name a little bit ago.”  

Gianna released a deep sigh as she let her eyes fall closed. “I can’t believe he just showed up here.”  

“Do you know what he wanted?”  

Gianna scoffed. “No clue, probably to torture me some more. As if yesterday wasn’t enough.”  

“He’s got some nerve,” Harry shook his head in disbelief. 

Gianna exhaled again. “I don’t even wanna be here and now I gotta go put a show on for everyone and pretend like everything’s fine.” 

Harry gave her a small, understanding smile. “Want me to go fall down the stairs as a distraction?” 

The tiniest shiver rolled down his spine when she smiled with a shake of her head. 

“I’ll just dive head first. They’ll be so distracted with my broken collar bone that you can sneak out the back,” he added with a completely straight face, intently fighting the twitch at the corner of his mouth. 

Gianna laughed softly as she pushed her elbow against his. “What if you mess up your face? I’ll never forgive myself.” 

“Oh yeah, you’re right. Never mind scratch that idea,” Harry replied quickly, the smile forming across his face regardless of his efforts. 

Gianna’s face softened after a moment, and Harry couldn’t be positive, but he was pretty sure her body moved a half an inch closer to his. 

“Thanks for stepping in with him,” she said sincerely, her big brown eyes steady on his. 

Harry swallowed discreetly, licking his lips in a force of habit. “Anytime,” he murmured, his eyes flicking across her face. 

“You didn’t have to,” Gianna replied mindlessly, her eyes falling across his face. 

“Know I didn’t.” Harry’s voice was soft, because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he felt like his skin was on fire. 

She was so close. Her perfume invaded his senses the same way it did on the roof, it had seeped into his sheets and lingered on his skin that morning. It was all he could focus on, subconsciously pulling him closer to her. 

Although, maybe not totally subconscious at all. He knew he wanted her. He knew that after one night with her, that he wanted her again, as many times as she’d give herself to him.   

He could tell she wanted to kiss him. Fuck, he was willing her to just do it. It was like every fiber of his being was screaming for her to just connect their mouths, get lost in each other again. But he could tell she was having some sort of internal battle that held her back. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly, eyes peering into hers. 

She blinked back at him, the soft furrow of her brows somehow making her more attractive. He watched her mouth open and close, trying to find the words. 

“Tell me,” he murmured. 

He could feel her breath just barely brushing his lips as his eyes pulled down to the curve of her Cupid’s bow first, then the curve of her chest, before traveling the same path back again, ready to dive back into the deep brown of her eyes. 

They were cast down, the curl of her lashes on display instead, and at first Harry assumed in shame or disinterest. But they burned against his own mouth, as she took account of every curve of his lips. 

“G...” he tried once more, hoping that the movement of his lips spurred her on. 

She was about to say something, Harry could see it on every inch of her face, but then there were footsteps entering the room and the sound of her name being called that Gianna snapped back, pulling away from him so quickly that it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. 

“Oh there you are,” Gemma said, relieved. “Your mum's going to go searching for you any minute, wanted to find you first.”

“Yeah, same,” Harry nodded as he tried to casually run a hand through the top of his hair and gently tuck a stray piece behind his ear. Only it didn’t feel casual at all, the only thing he felt was fidgety. “I’ll go distract her,” he added as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and turned to leave. 

The truth was, he felt like he couldn’t breath and he wasn’t even quite sure why. Gianna was hard to read, she was really good at bottling things up which left him completely unsure where he stood. She told him she wasn’t interested, and he understood why. Things could get complicated and that was the last thing she needed in her life at the moment. But then she looked at him like that, and her eyes - reluctant but burning into his skin - said something completely different. 

He wasn’t going to push her, though.  She needed a friend and that was what he was going to be to her.  So he went to Lisa’s side and talked her ear off about a recent show he had watched on Discovery, and watched with a small smirk as Gianna’s mum pretended to be interested.  

Luckily, the rest of the party went on as normal. And even more so, Gianna and Harry didn’t have a moment alone together until the goodbyes. There was the slightest bit of hesitancy when they went to leave a kiss on each other's cheeks, something they and their families always did when parting ways.  

It was a blip of a moment really, but it was enough to have chills running across Gianna’s skin just from the barely there scruff of Harry’s cheek brushing hers. He gave a small, but reassuring smile when he pulled away, a soft squeeze of her arm just before he followed Gemma out the door. 

It was insane, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him the rest of the night. While she helped her parents clean up, while they talked her ear off about their upcoming travel plans, while she finally peeled herself away from them at nearly midnight, while she drove back to Gemma and Harry’s place, while she tiptoed inside and locked up behind her. 

“Hey,” Gemma called from where she was curled up on the couch in front of the tv. “Rest of the night go okay?” 

“Oh, yeah. The usual really.” Gianna sighed as she slipped her studded heels off, her limbs feeling heavy from the long day. 

“I’ll be out of your bedroom in a mo, this is almost over,” Gemma said half heartedly, eyes still trained on the tv. 

Gianna didn’t bother with a response, but instead wandered down the hallway to Gemma’s room to steal some clothes. She couldn’t help but glance at Harry’s bedroom door, the light peeking through the bottom like a temptation. 

She wondered what he was doing in there as she changed, if he heard her come in, if he could sense her in the proximity somehow.  Her fingertips prickled with curiosity and her mind tiptoed along the ledge of “what if” and “maybe” and “why not”.  

He offered.  All she had to do was accept.  

When she stepped out of Gemma’s room with an oversized white tee shirt and minty fresh teeth, she immediately noticed that Harry’s light was no longer illuminating the edges of his door, the room seemingly pitch black.  

Maybe that was a sign from the universe or something.  Maybe, she thought, she should just quit while she’s ahead.  

Her makeshift bed was all ready for her in the living room, Gemma having neatly arranged blankets and pillows on the couch where she was previously sitting.  That was one thing about both of the Style’s siblings, they never made you feel unwelcome. 

“Alright love, let me know if you need anything,” Gemma spoke as she placed her empty tea cup in the sink.  

“Thanks, Gems. Seriously. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”  

Gemma smiled warmly as she walked over, wrapping Gianna in a quick hug before heading for the hallway.  

“Oh,” she turned around quickly, “Harry spoke to Steve after we left.”  

Gianna’s heart stopped, bracing herself for whatever transpired between them.  “How bad was it?”  

“Eh,” Gemma shrugged, chuckling lightly as she continued. “Harry yelled a lot, but he’ll be gone for a few hours tomorrow morning so you can go get your stuff. We’ll go with you to help.”  

Gianna released a heavy sigh, overwhelmed with her friend's generosity. “You guys don’t have to do that.”  

“Too bad because we are,” Gemma quickly replied. “Harry told Steve he was coming with you anyway, just in case he decides to try anything like what went on today. Plus, the more hands means the faster you can get out of there.”  

Gianna gave her a pouty smile.  

“Don’t look at me like that,” Gemma laughed. “You would do the same for me.” 

“I would,” she agreed.  

“Besides, Harry’s the one that made it happen. He just told me the plan before he went to bed.”  Gemma smoothed down the baby hairs sticking up at the front of Gianna’s hairline, a small, sympathetic smile on her face. “I love you, get some sleep.”  

Gianna didn’t know what she did to deserve a friend like Gemma, but she was grateful every single day for whatever cosmic blip happened in the universe to force them together. 

“Love you,” Gianna murmured as she watched Gemma head for her room, finding herself standing completely still as she watched her bedroom door close softly at the end of the hall.  

And then she was left in silence with nothing but her thoughts. Which if anyone could hear inside her brain, they’d know they were anything but silent.  

She went to plop down on the couch, letting out a long, deep sigh as she sunk into the cushions.  

Harry didn’t need to put his neck out like that, but he did. His exact reasoning, Gianna wasn’t sure. But he appeared beside her at that party like it was second nature. He took it upon himself to find a way for her to safely get her things from her former home, and she was grateful. He was a good friend. She knew that already, but it was even more prominent now.  

She thought starting something with Harry would be harder on her than not. She thought she didn’t need the added stress.  But he never showed any indication that he would make anything stressful for her. If anything, the only thing he showed was the opposite.  

A distraction, an escape, a good time.   

That was all she needed right now.  And in a way, that was exactly what Harry was offering.  

So she pulled herself up from the couch with purpose, and padded down the hall to the door on the right with her heart beating wildly in her chest.  Her fingers brushed along the grain of wood, a last chance effort to back away with none the wiser.  

But she didn’t want to.  As ridiculous as it seemed, Harry made her feel something that she desperately needed at the moment.  

So she jumped.  

It was the softest tap, her knuckle meeting the wood so lightly she was positive he wouldn’t even hear it.  Her breath was shaky as she did it again, this time the tiniest bit harder, more sure.  

There was no sign of movement behind the door.  She waited with baited breath, tapping her knuckles a third time, squeezing her eyes closed, begging for Gemma not to hear.  

But nothing.  No sound, no movement, no Harry.  

Maybe he had snuck out at some point, while she was changing perhaps.  Or maybe he had decided she was right after all, that this - she - was too complicated for him right now.  

She drew one last small pattern on the door, her temple pressed against the framing before she dropped her hand and pulled away.  

And then in a moment of pure heart stopping relief, the door swung open and a large hand wrapped around her forearm, tugging her inside the dark room so quickly she felt lightheaded.  

Her back was pressed up against the wall beside the door as Harry eased it closed quietly.  Gianna caught her breath, her chest rising and falling sharply as she took him in.  He was in nothing but boxer briefs sitting low on his hips, his hair pulled up in a bun, his skin reflecting against the light of the muted tv in the corner of his room.  His bed was unmade, the spot he was previously occupying obvious, what with blankets thrown to the one corner and pillows propped up against the center of the headboard.  

Harry was looking at her expectantly when she turned her face back to him, but he didn’t say anything, eyes simply scanning the features of Gianna’s face.  

“How’d you know it was me?” Gianna murmured softly. 

“I didn’t.”  His tone was neutral, but his eyes were blazing, even in the darkness.  

She couldn’t pull her eyes from him, and all she could think about was taking the half a step needed to be pressed against his soft skin. 

“Hoped it was,” Harry added after a beat of silence, his eyes falling to her mouth. “Didn’t know, but hoped.” 

The words barely made their way from his lips before Gianna was taking the small step to connect their mouths.  And it was as if  Harry was waiting for it, because his hand immediately cupped her jaw as he took his own step, her back pressing against the wall once more.  

His lips were warm, and they tasted familiar this time. That thought surprised Gianna somehow - this wasn’t the first time, and although it was new, it was comforting in a way she wouldn’t be able to explain if she tried.  

He kissed her with his entire body, every inch of him pressed tightly against her, pinning her to the wall.  His tongue teased her bottom lip, and without second thought, she met him with her own, sparks shooting across her skin in the form of goosebumps and anticipation.  

The soft groan that escaped his throat as he pulled her even closer lit her on fire, his fingers digging harder into the soft curves of her hips.  

“Fuck, I want you,” Harry sighed breathlessly, his lips trailing across Gianna’s jaw and down her neck.  

She scratched her nails down his back, his body only pressing against hers more in response. “Want you too,” she whispered, like it was a confession, as if her actions hadn’t already exposed her.  

His lips burned against her throat, sucking deliberate kisses to her sensitive skin as his hands smoothed up and down her sides, gripping here, pulling there. She could feel him, hard and needy against her pelvis, and it made her stomach twist with desire. 

“This has to stay between us,” Gianna spoke gently up to the ceiling. “No one can know.”  

“Good,” Harry stamped a kiss to her jaw, pulling her face to his by the back of her neck, his lips brushing hers with his words. “Can be our secret.”  

And it was, he made sure of it.  No one would know what went on between them under the darkness of the night, hidden behind the walls of his room, disguised behind their eyes in the daylight.  

It would just be theirs, whatever it was, for as long as Harry could help it.  

But that’s the thing about secrets… they always find a way out.  

a/n: *nervous laughter* Heyyy guysss lol so! There we have it! It’s happening, it’s fine, everything’s fine. The biggest thanks to the best babes @andwhenshesays​ @oh-honey-styles​ @harrytheehottie​ @real-work-of-art​ @haute-romance-quotidienne​ @all-things-fic​ for the comments and laughs and support and encouragement - you guys are the real ones. I hope everyone enjoyed this one! Much more to come *more nervous laughter* lol thank you for reading! I hope you’ve had a great friday! xxx 

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[lazywonderlvnd]

Hi, if you are still taking prompts; A magically powerful Harry not noticing that his magic does things to make Draco happy. This can be pre-relationship or established relationship. Like it starts of with his tea being exactly as he likes and always the right temperature. Then evolves to rooms changing colour or weather changing or people being unable to invade Draco’s personal space due to an invisible barrier or something ridiculous. Btw Draco doesn’t notice as well.

anon.....you really killed me w this one. i’ve been so emo over this wyugeahrwiw might end up writing smth longer tbh bc this concept is literally the only thing that matters to me!!!!!!! i hope u enjoy i had so much fun with it ❤️❤️❤️

“Harry, you do it. Please.”

“No.”

“Please!”

“We’re fucking watching something, Draco!”

“So just pause it!”

Harry grabs the pillow on his lap and slams it onto the sofa next to him. Hermione can see dust rise in its wake. He pauses the telly. 

“Are you doing it?” Draco asks hopefully. Harry scowls at him. 

“Well you won’t shut up until I do, will you?”

“Definitely not.”

Harry disappears into the kitchen and Draco sits there looking smug.

“It’s kind of sick how you get off on bossing him around,” says Ron, his tone one of simple observation. His fingers are idly playing with Hermione’s hair, but she doesn’t think he notices he’s doing it. 

“If I’m not mean to him a few times a week I break out in a rash, Weasley,” Draco says blithely. “Besides, he makes it perfectly. I don’t know how he does it, it’s always exactly the right temperature and sweetness and all that. I s’pose his years as a house-elf for those Muggles gave him plenty of time to perfect the art.”

“You’re a twat,” says Ron. “And my mum makes tea better than him.”

“Well you’re just a pitiful little mummy’s boy, aren’t you, Weasley? We can hardly trust your opinion.”

“Hark who the hell’s talking,” Ron scoffs. “Least I’m not twenty-three and still calling my mum ‘mummy’ like the world’s biggest bloody ponce.”

Draco splutters but before he can retort Harry’s coming back into the room hovering four cups of tea that float placidly to each of them. Draco looks exactly like a satisfied cat as he takes his and Harry drops back down onto the sofa next to him. Not too close, but certainly not too far, either.

“Literally exquisite,” Draco declares after he’s taken a sip. Ron rolls his eyes.

“It’s just tea, Draco,” says Harry, and he grabs for the remote to turn the film back on. “You’re such a demanding little brat. Merlin’s fucking tits.”

But Draco looks happy and Harry looks suspiciously content as well. Ron turns to her and makes a silent gagging face. Hermione snorts and puts a finger to her lips. They’ve decided not to say anything yet.

*

“Wasn’t this place a lot … uglier last time?”

“What?” Harry says absently. He’s not listening — he’s got all his attention zeroed in on a stack of parchment he’s holding. They’d only barely dragged him along to lunch; earlier the captain of the English National Team had apparently owled him a great number of brand-new Quidditch plays and required Harry’s extensive thoughts and notes before their next practise, which was tomorrow morning. 

“Uglier,” Draco says emphatically, and Ron mutters something she doesn’t catch. “Remember? The walls were that tragic egg-yolk colour.” He shivers. Hermione thinks it might have been an honest-to-god shiver of revulsion. She also thinks she knows what’s happened, even though the extent of it surprises her.

“Maybe someone heard you whingeing and changed it,” Ron apparently can’t stop himself from saying with a snigger. Hermione elbows him hard and he shoots her a glare, mouthing, he doesn’t know!

Harry would usually be the one to take the lead and get them a table when all four of them go out to eat together but today he’s too wrapped up in his Quidditch plays, so Ron steps forward and does it, which makes Hermione’s chest flutter pleasantly. He’d blush down to his bones if she ever said it aloud but he’s quite capable of being a leader in Harry’s absences. 

“Whatever happened,” says Draco pointedly as they’re led to their table, “it’s a great bloody blessing, I was genuinely unsure I’d have the mental fortitude to survive another assault like that on my delicate senses. And, I mean, this —” he gestures to the walls, which are now an admittedly pleasing dark teal above a white trim “— is stunning. It’s my favourite colour.”

“Is it? So weird they picked your favourite colour completely by coincidence,” Ron says, and Hermione elbows him again. Draco notices nothing and neither does Harry, although he does finally set the plays aside once they’re seated at the table.

“Are you complaining about the wall colour again?” he asks drily. They would both be extremely displeased to know they sound like an old married couple. Draco snatches haughtily at the paper napkin on the table and unfolds it to place over his lap. The first time he’d ever done this at a regular, decidedly not upscale restaurant Ron had taken it upon himself to spend the entire meal adopting a posh accent to match Draco’s and saying things to the waiter like “Don’t you have crystal?” while holding up a glass cup full of Pepsi and then commenting “These aren’t real silver, you know” after making a show of inspecting the titanium utensils. 

“I can complain about hideous design choices if I want to,” Draco tells Harry with his nose in the air. “Thankfully they’ve rectified it this time.”

On the other side of the restaurant, Hermione sees two employees talking, one of them gesturing at the wall with utter bewilderment. She doesn’t point it out.

*

“Twelve o’clock,” says Ron, nodding past Draco’s shoulder. “Some bloke staring you down hard, Malfoy.”

Draco looks excitedly behind him, but what Hermione takes more notice of is the way Harry’s face falls a little. She can’t help but wonder if he even realises it’s happened. She’s almost certain he’s aware of his feelings for Draco even though he still hasn’t said anything to her (and she’s been waiting months now, the effort of holding her tongue growing only more difficult by the day, and she knows Ron’s always seconds away from shouting at him) but she doesn’t think he knows how obvious he is. Draco doesn’t seem to know either, but she thinks that’s because Draco feels exactly the same way. She’d have called them morons, but she remembers too well how long it had taken her and Ron.

“What the fuck, Weasley,” Draco hisses, turning back around with a scowl that makes Ron laugh and Harry perk up again a little bit. “He looks like he hasn’t washed his hair in weeks.”

“Now, now,” says Ron, “mustn’t judge books by their greasy covers.”

“Then you go shag him if you think he’s so fit.”

“Maybe I will,” Ron says airily, as if he really is considering it, and Hermione can’t help chuckling and kissing his cheek. Then his expression changes to one of wicked amusement, which makes all of them look round to see the bloke coming their way. Hermione glances at Harry to find that — oh yes, he looks flustered and vaguely upset.

“Hullo,” says the greasy bloke to Draco as he comes up beside him at their table. He’s really not terrible-looking, but if she’s learned anything about Draco in the last couple years it’s that his standards amount to models and Harry Potter, so this man has almost no chance.

“Hello,” Draco drawls, reminding her fiercely of his younger self at Hogwarts. “I’m not interested.”

“Right little narcissistic bugger, aren’t you?” the man says. And now, finally, he’s begun to look as revolting to Hermione as he’d done initially to Draco — a repellent personality can do that. “Maybe I just wanted to come and have a chat.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at any of the rest of us?” Ron asks, sounding halfway between amused still and a little put off.

“Can you leave, please?” Draco interjects, cringing away from the man encroaching slowly on his personal space. And suddenly, as he looks on the verge of antagonising Draco further, he shifts his feet and slips, landing right on his bum with a yell of surprise. All four of them get to their feet to see, but there doesn’t seem to be any liquid or even slimy food for him to have tripped on.

“The fuck ...?” the man says, getting back to his feet. But when he moved towards Draco, he only slips again, on absolutely nothing at all. Something clicks and Hermione looks at Harry: he seems as confused as anyone else (if obviously pleased).

She looks at Ron then, who catches her eye and lifts his brows like he’s thinking the same thing.

Draco’s suitor gets up once more and steadies himself, looking a bit dazed. Some deep animal instinct seems to tell him to stop trying, and with a wary glance at Draco he finally leaves.

“Well that was a bit of a fucking scene,” says Harry. Draco, coming out of his own startled daze, laughs.

“Yeah,” Ron says sarcastically, “wonder what could’ve possibly happened.”

*

“I really thought it was going to rain,” Draco mopes where he’s standing at the window. It’s grey outside but it definitely doesn’t look like rain and Draco appears so upset about it that Hermione actually feels badly, even though she’s quite glad for the clear weather. 

“Just shut the curtains,” Ron suggests from his place on the floor. He’s sorting through Harry’s collection of VHS tapes, trying to decide on a good Halloween movie. Not that he’s ever seen any of them, and Hermione suspects he’ll end up choosing whichever cover he likes best.

“It’s not the same!” Draco wails. “The thunder and lightning is all part of it, you uncultured pillock! The atmosphere is all wrong.”

“It’ll be just as good when we shut off all the lights and draw the curtains,” she assures him, but it doesn’t remove the look of disappointment from his face. It’s a pouty sort of thing that echoes the brattiness of his youth; she imagines a five-or-six-year-old Draco giving his parents similar looks when he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

 At that moment the front door opens and Harry walks in carrying two grocery bags, one of which contains alcohol, which Hermione can tell by the way the plastic is bulging around the cans.

“The fuck are you all doing here?” he says by way of greeting.

“You said eight o’clock, fuckhead,” Ron tells him without looking up. “But it’s fine, I’ve had time to pick a film and Malfoy’s had time to moan about the weather.”

“What’s wrong with the weather?”

“I wanted a storm!”

At that exact moment, a flash of lightning lights up the sky behind Harry where he hasn’t even closed the door yet. Seconds later a downpour begins, and then there’s a rolling crash of thunder.

Hermione’s eyes widen and once more she finds Ron’s gaze, who looks about as shocked as she feels. Draco, meanwhile, has his hands over his mouth and looks like a child on Christmas morning.

For the first time since his magic had begun picking up on Draco’s wishes and granting them of seemingly its own accord, Hermione sees Harry look suspicious. He peers behind him at the storm suddenly raging outside his house before slowly closing the door. When he turns back he looks directly at Hermione, who looks away quickly.

They set up the food Harry had gotten — all kinds of Halloween-themed sweets — and once everyone has their drinks (“Make mine,” Draco tells Harry, “you do it best”) and is comfortable on the two sofas in the room (Harry and Draco are, as usual, as close to each other as they can get without actually touching) they start the movie: The Thing, which Harry swears is one of the greatest horror films of all time.

Funny thing is, an hour and a half into it she looks over and, with a jolt, realises the two of them are kissing half-covered beneath a blanket. She elbows Ron, who positively beams when he notices.

“Fucking finally, dear sweet Merlin,” he whispers, the sound muffled by the continued rain and thunder. “I nearly hit him upside the head when he made it rain, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Shh!” Hermione hisses, though she’s smiling. “They’ll hear you. We’ll rag him about it tomorrow.”

A soft sound of laughter comes from the other sofa that Hermione identifies as Draco’s, and when she risks another peek after a moment she sees that Harry has a hand on Draco’s jaw, and that he’s smiling.