#au harry returns

[overcastedsays]

discofishing

[valoale]

@kk1smet asked, thou shall receive 💅🏻✨

I must press this is a WIP and I am going to post it unfinished because I’ve been successfully sitting on it for nearly five months because there’s something bugging me about this but I don’t know what and I’m afraid if I say to myself that I will finish it I will sit on it forever so I’m just gonna go ahead and release him from my WIP jail and let him roam free

I’ve been unknowingly edging @emsuemsu for months and I’m truly and deeply sorry about that 🫡

Also special thank you for my bestie @sarxzu for building this AU with me and always listening to my insane rants about my blorbos and always hyping me up and helping me out with her amazing ideas❣️

[lilithofpenandbook]

au where when a Death Eater is killed, they can actually not die, on one condition:

Their heart must be pure.

This doesn't mean they never ever did anything wrong. That's impossible if you're human. No, this means that whatever they've done, it's for a selfless reason. That whatever bad they've done for selfish reasons, they've fully regretted, repented, and set out for redemption. That in their heart of hearts, they are no true Death Eater, because true Death Eater have no compassion, or selfless love. Selfless Love is a pure thing, and if that exists in the heart, then they may survive being killed.

And there's another thing: they return to the physical state they were in before taking the Dark Mark. It's all effectively "wiped clean", as it were. Of course, the actions remain, as do the mental scars, but the physical body is now back to when it was still pure of this evil as a little nod to the purity of their heart.

During the second war, then, there are a few Death Eaters who do not die. But only the fewest:

The most famous example? Severus Snape, who is all but a mere child, barely touching adulthood. Who's small and underweight, whose body is still riddled with scars from the Good Guys. Who's so young it's frightening to think he became a death eater at this age because there's something so broken and fragile about him. How did he manage to survive through that?

And then... And then there's Bellatrix. Bellatrix Black.

Who... Who's a literal child.

[alwayshinny]

Just wanna say I really love the images you post and I'm grateful to have come across your page. Your pics always make the Hinny fangirl in me squee! XD Do you accept requests? Would love love to see a LittleMermaid!Hinny or Pirate!Hinny from you! :)

Aww, thank you! Here’s both of your requests for being so sweet anon, hopefully this is what you were envisioning 😘

LittleMermaidHinny! 🧜‍♀️ - Friends to lovers

PirateHinny! 🏴‍☠️- Enemies to lovers

[marx-n-mag]

Hi Mags!

What do you think Marx will act if he reads the Harry Potter novels? (Or the movies)

I'm not familiar with that novel series!

...one quick online search later, he'll probably get very bored with it.

It's too long for him, there aren't many/any pictures, and it has magic as the main plot point, so it isn't very interesting to him.

He's recently started reading mangas, and I'm not sure that's a good idea.

-Magolor

[iamnmbr3]

Lol voldemort’s not taking any chances with those faulty cauldron bottoms

[zerogravityinq]

"...You sound like you wanna join as our Fourth and Fifth, mate."

- Harry, after being captured by Two-Face and lectured for playing with Brucie's heart after it's revealed that Harry is Magus and in a relationship with both Batman and Bruce Wayne.

[riddikuluslupin]

remione [accidentally called your number while drunk asking for a ride and you actually came au] pt 2

She stood on the pavement’s edge, precariously too close to traffic for Remus’s liking, not that there were many cars on the road at such an hour. Why had her friend not been ready to swoop in and get her home safely? Why did she even have to call? What magic conjured up his number in her phone with him living only two blocks away?

The woman — Hermione, he reminded himself — gave a small wave. Her legs wobbled, and she grabbed the nearby lamppost for support. Drizzle fell softly, the droplets frizzing her hair and casting a fuzzy halo around her head. Remus felt visited upon by some supernatural creature as she glowed in contrast to the dark pub front. Gods, he needed to stop reading those fantasy books so late at night, but he hadn’t been able to sleep. Insomnia meant he’d been awake to take her call.

When he pulled up, she steadied herself on the slick car door and mimed rolling down the window. He did so. She peered in blearily at him. Remus wondered if he matched whatever expectation she had after talking with him on the phone. He ran a hand through his hair, knowing he looked rough after not sleeping well last night and now tonight. The days leading up to a full moon wrecked him. 

“Are you—?” they said at the same time. She laughed, and he couldn’t help but offer a small smile.

“Hermione, is it?” he tried again. “Do you still want that ride?”

“Oh, yes. Remus?” He nodded in reply. “If you’re going my way.” Her eyebrows raised conspiratorially as if relaying an inside joke.

Remus clicked the doors unlocked and then leaned over to unlatch the passenger side door. “There’s nowhere else this taxi service is going tonight. Get in before you’re soaked. The rain’ll be picking up.”

She jostled the door open and gracelessly plopped into the seat. Now, in the heat of the car, she unbuttoned her grey coat, revealing a cranberry red dress. She smelled strongly of orange liqueur with the faintest hint of…what was it…something warm and familiar. He turned down the heat when she began fanning herself with her hands. 

“I’ve never done anything like this before.” She turned to him as she buckled her seat belt. “Gotten into a car with a stranger.” A tremor of worry crossed her face as Remus assumed the implications of her situation washed over her. She replaced that doubt with a hesitant smile. “Please tell me you’re not an axe murderer.” 

Remus resisted the urge to say “not yet” and turned up the windshield wipers against the growing storm. Instead, he took everything out of his pockets — his phone and wallet — and pressed them into her hands. “I know it’s not the same, but you’re trusting me, so I’d like to trust you with those. No axe murdering as long you don’t chuck those out the window.”

“I think I can manage that,” she replied. “Do you carry anything interesting with you?”

He shrugged, looking at the address she showed him on her phone so he could type it into his GPS. It wasn’t too far but also wasn’t close. Sleeping tonight looked more and more questionable. “I doubt there’s anything of particular note. Not much worth stealing.” He raised his eyebrows as she immediately plucked a wayward receipt that had been sticking out from his wallet.

“You’ve been to Flourish and Blotts?” she said in an excited rush. The warm amber glow of the streetlamps blinked past outside the windows, briefly casting her face in bronze light before winking back into darkness. No other cars were on this side street.

“I have to restrain myself from going more often. Or else I’d forget to buy groceries and only have books to eat.”

“Not very tasty. Have you seen that they’ve gotten in some new history books about…” 

Despite the lack of traffic, Remus kept his gaze on the road, even though he wanted to watch this woman be so enraptured by books that she soliloquized about what she wanted to purchase next, what she’d already bought, what she was currently reading, and what he should definitely not waste his time on. She brightly asked for his thoughts on books and, after her long, detailed discussion about the more obscure (and potentially occult) subjects she read (really, what was arithmancy? ancient runes?), he felt embarrassed to admit that only myth retellings currently held his attention. 

“No wonder you agreed to pick me,” she said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Two mythological creatures passing in the night.”

He tensed at her words and then noticed a smear of red extending down her lip. She can’t suspect, he thought. Deftly, he reached over to pop open the glove box to retrieve a tissue. “And since when is ‘Hermione’ a creature, rather than a human girl?” 

She took the tissue and blotted where he indicated on her face, avoiding his gaze as she blushed into the visor mirror. After shoving the tissue in her purse that Remus noted held two books with multi-colored tabs, she rolled down her window to stick out her hand and then pressed the rain along her flushed neck. Remus turned the heat off and couldn’t help but glance from the road to the hand that lingered on her collarbone. 

“Sidecars always make me hot. I should have stuck with the wine.” She sighed and then said so softly that Remus almost didn’t hear it, “I should have stayed home. So stupid.” 

Since she’d whispered the last part, Remus pretended not to notice; with his sharp hearing, he sometimes had to do so to keep people from looking askance at him and his “strange prying.” He didn’t know what to say, so the silence stretched out between them.

“What are we but creatures?” she replied in a fake lofty tone. “Creatures seeking comfort in all the wrong places.”

The street continued to unwind before them in a blurry line as the wind whipped rain across the windshield. Only one car passed them. Remus chanced another look at her. She stared down into the depths of her hands. He gently cleared his throat. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She fiddled with his wallet, opening it to slide her thumb along the credit cards nestled inside. “It’s nothing particularly special or interesting. A tale as old as time, being stood up, waiting around for him for hours until you decide to get royally knackered.” She plucked out his library card, then his grocer rewards card, until all the cards were freed so that she could sort them by color.

“What a prick,” he said. Gods, no wonder she sounded close to tears on the phone when she mentioned how alone she was standing outside. “Do you want to find his house and teach him a lesson?”

“I had plenty of time to consider what kind of lesson I’ll teach him should he ever dare darken my doorstep,” she said and smiled weakly at his attempt to cheer her up. “Plus, I thought you weren’t an axe murder. Will you be coming along for moral support then?”

He considered this as she applied a lip balm over her faded lipstick. There was the smell from earlier—a mix of vanilla and cinnamon. She caught him glancing at her mouth. Remus reached to turn down the heat again only to realize he’d shut it off earlier. His brain felt fuzzy from lack of sleep, the hard pull of the moon, and something else he couldn’t quite name.

“Have you ever stood up a date before?” she asked, her body angled towards him, her elbow propped up on the center console and hand cradling her head. Her hair brushed his argyle sweater.

Feigning insult at such a question, he said, “I would never.” He contemplated revealing that he could barely even remember the last date he’d gone on, that he remained an unattractive prospect because of his finances, his job, his condi- He swiftly cut this short as he noticed her staring up at him, her brow furrowed as if trying to puzzle out his thoughts.

“Where did you take your last date? And, please don’t say a pub.”

Remus rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. How many months ago was it when he went for coffee with his co-worker Dora? She’d made calf-eyes at him, twirling whichever colorful extension she’d clipped into her hair that day (pink, purple, or blue), until he’d agreed to a date. “It was quite a while ago. We went to that little coffee shop attached to Dogweed and Deathcap.”

“Oh, the plant shop?” She brightened and sat up straighter. Searching through her purse, she pulled out a catalog with the shop’s logo on the front and leaned in closer to him. She’d shucked off her coat, and her bare shoulder bumped his arm as the car hit a pothole. She pointed to a dark purple flower. “They just put in my order for these.” 

Remus deftly glanced at it before looking back at the road, unable to identify it. “Which are those?”

“Aconitum,” she said. “I’ll have enough for several planters.”

Only a couple streets from her place, Remus managed to keep his car on the road when she said the flower’s name. “Why do you need so much wolfsbane?”

“You know it?” she said in surprise, then she was off again, chatting away as she had when discussing books. “Do you have some? I understand it’s highly toxic, and the shop waffled about allowing me to order that many plants. But they caved because I’m such a regular, although don’t tell them one reason for that is I killed off all my petunias and mandragoras. Overwatered them.” She ran her finger through her hair, causing it to frizz even further. “That won’t happen this time because I’ll be using them for a, erm, chemistry project.” 

“Nothing related to cooking?” 

“You’ll be pleased to know I’m also not a murderer.” She paused dramatically before following up with, “Yet.”

The GPS dinged as the car pulled in front of her small, dark-windowed house. Hermione scowled. “Ginny couldn’t even leave the porch light on? That boy better have been worth the lay.” 

Again, Remus reached over, barely avoiding brushing her knees that she didn't seem to notice were in his path, to open the glove box and fish out a torch. “I’ve got to have a talk with this Ginny about her priorities. If you don’t mind my company a little longer, I’ll walk you to the door.”

He tapped the torch against his thigh until the light flared to life. The rain had tapered back to a drizzle, and Remus jogged over to her side and had the door open before she’d managed to unbuckle the seat belt. She took his offered hand and wobbled a little less as she stepped onto the sidewalk in her sensible heels. With her coat back on but unbuttoned, she shivered as the wind blew in from the north. Its icy fingers threaded through Remus’s sweater. A bone-deep tired dragged at him, and his eyes flickered shut.

“Are you all right?” She hadn’t released his hand and squeezed it until he reopened his eyes to look down at her worried face. Outside, underneath the thin moonlight pushing through the clouds, the watery mascara smudges on her cheeks stood out clearly. What sodding prick stood up a pretty woman who read esoteric books and grew poisonous plants for fun. 

“Are you a witch?” Remus side-stepped her question with one that had been brewing in his mind since she rattled off the books she read or would soon read. If she was, then maybe— maybe— she’d understand about him and his condition. 

She looked stunned. The torch’s puddle of light illuminated their shoes; he was glad he at least wore a matching pair, although they were worn to hell like the rest of his oxfords. “Is your next line going to chat me up with some variation of asking if I’ve ‘put a spell on you’? 

His tired, tired brain cursed him. Once again, he’d messed it up before anything had even begun. What did he think would even begin in the first place? He was a stranger who conveniently lived near a pub she’d been stranded at and gave her a ride home. “Gods, no, I shouldn’t have pried. Ignore that. I don’t even have chat up lines. I don’t chat people up. I barely talk to anyone. ” He felt himself spiraling into a ramble. “Let’s get you inside. It’s late.”

At the door, he shone the light on the lock. As she twisted the knob, he turned to leave. Her hand tugged at his elbow, stopping him to turn back around. With the door ajar, her voice dropped low and she leaned in to whisper, “Can I give you something?” 

His heart fluttered strangely. What would she want to give him? He nodded, and she held up a finger for him to wait. She slipped through the dark doorway. A light flicked on in a back room. She soon returned with her hair in a messy bun and a small bag in tow. She pressed it into his hand and closed his chilled fingers around it. 

“It’s a sleep tisane with chamomile, mint, and lavender. Plus a couple secret ingredients. None of which are toxic or charmed, I solemnly swear.” She released his hand and tucked the stray hairs escaping from her bun behind her ears. “If you’re worried about that, you could always invite me over, and I’ll take a drink first.”

Was she asking him out for tea? Was he being asked out on a date? She must have misread the shock on his face because she began to walk back her offer: “Or you can chuck it in the bin. I thought it might help, and Ginny has told me I can offer help when people aren’t looking for it. I have been known to be bossy. Or you could put it in your bath?” She blushed. “Either way, I wanted to thank you for driving me out all this way.”

Remus finally found his voice. “I would love tea, but I can’t the next couple of days.” The moon pressed down on the paper thin clouds. “How about after that?”

She peered up, studying him with almost x-ray vision. He grew worried she was examining the lattice of scars on his face and down his neck. Explanations dried up his throat. “Text me after the full moon,” she said simply. “I went ahead and saved my number in your phone.” 

Later, when Remus opened his contacts, he found “the brightest witch” listed in his contacts, and his handwritten TBR list for when he went to Flourish & Blotts had vanished from his wallet. Tasting the tea, he knew at least two of the secret ingredients were vanilla and cinnamon, neither of which poisoned him. He did choke on his tea when Hermione sent her first text to him that read: “In my phone, I didn’t name you ‘axe murderer.’ You’re ‘the trusted wolf.’ Should I bring chocolate for our tea? And if you give me a fake address or anything of the sort, I will curse you. :)”

pt. 1

[kayspaceprinceart]

Day 30 - Crew

The crew of the good ship U.S.S. Cassini! So basically all my star trek ocs minus the vulcans and everyone's kiddos.

[saintsofthestarfield]

Wolfstar snippet from a WIP I abandoned:

Sirius fell back onto the bed, stomach full and body relaxed. He breathed in deep, listening to the shuffling of fabric coming from the closet and feeling the strange sense of belonging rattle around his ribs. It was empty, this cave he calls a chest. Dark and cold, filled rarely with the likes of satisfaction or tranquility. The arches forming a cage made of dust. Molded into bars of bone, forged by scarred hands; he was made of the moon. Ironic for someone named after a star, right? The thought made him giggle.

“What’s so funny?” James called from where he now stood at the bathroom sink, speaking through a mouth full of toothpaste suds.

“Just longing for the return of my moonage daydream…” Sirius sighed wistfully.

[dramioneasks]

im looking for a fic set during the war. Ron and harry get trapped somewhere in hogwarts i believe in a picture or in the room of requirements, making everyone believe they ran away. But years later its found out that they were stuck in a room. It was a dramione

This?

Paralyzed by Lovenyx125 - E, abandoned - Harry and Ron went missing during the Battle of Hogwarts, leaving the fate of the world in the hands of another saviour. Five years later, their reappearance throws a wrench into the idyllic post-war lives of their friends. The pair struggle to find their footing in a world where their best friend is married to the Wizarding’s World’s sweetheart, Draco Malfoy, and Blaise Zabini calls Molly Weasley ‘Mum’. Written for the Apples & Quills ‘Happy Birthday Draco" fest.

-Lisa

[luvmahae]

where you are ‣ lee haechan smau

summary: what the absolute fuck is up baby! fall semester marks the peak of greek life at ncu. the campus quad is filled with tents representing various fraternities and sororities with their letters proudly presented in front of each booth, all eager to recruit new members. as students return to campus, they are met with a flood of fliers and invitations to parties, mixers, and rush events. while you were walking through the crowd of eager freshmen to join these organizations, you bumped into someone very unexpected...

what do you do when you bump into the guy you hooked up with after a music festival during summer break? instead of the royal blue basketball jersey you first met him in, it was replaced by a varsity jacket with the letters reading "ΝΧΘ".

"haechan?"

pairing: fratboy!haechan x fem!reader

genre: smau, non-idol au, college au, fluff, nsfw/suggestive (mdni!) comedy, humor, slight slowburn, strangers to lovers, rave bae core? (am i in love with you or is it just the drugs?)

warnings: mentions of alcohol/substance usage (marijuana, mdma/ecstasy, lsd, cocaine), profanity, jokes about sex and death thrown around, both groups are out of pocket and tmi doesn't exist apparently... no ones safe! the boys gc is kinda questionable (this is where i say men deserve no rights!), haechan x reader met at an edm festival (the term rave bae will be said here and there. rave bae is someone you meet unexpectedly while raving, kinda like your temporary s/o for the duration of the rave or festival... smth like that!) disclaimer notice: these portrayals are fictional and are not intended to encourage or glamorize substance use.

playlist: where you are - john summit | club classics - charli xcx | intimidated - kaytranada, h.e.r. | high and i like it - it's murph, evalyn | what a life - john summit, stevie appleton | saving up - dom dolla | talk talk - charli xcx, troye sivan | mr useless - shygirl, sg lewis, club shy | atmosphere - fisher, kita alexander | thinking about you - calvin harris, ayah marar | gas pedal remix - john summit, subtronics, tape b, sage the gemini

notes: omg!!! my first post ever... honestly i've been debating to do this for a long time... now here i am :D ngl i lowkey based this off a personal experience (i am a changed woman now okay... spare me! 😭) my first lil fic dedicated to haechan!!! the playlist is highly edm biased with a sprinkle of brat. i just think it fits the vibe so well hehe. open to feedback and enjoy!!! ♡

status: ongoing!

taglist: closed!

profiles: live laugh love y/n (1), john summit fanboys (2)

intro: so.... edc next year?

one: comedown

two: wtf is college

three: boutta fuckin jump (written)

four: y/n’s eras tour

five: is my brain braining?

six: heyyyyyy 👀

seven: i know what u are…

eight: tequila ftw (written)

nine: ot3 timeout

ten: i want u 😩

eleven: drunk olympics

twelve: stuDYING

thirteen: agram 🙏😭

fourteen: gn haechan (written)

fifteen: team y/n

sixteen: options

seventeen: u did ur big one 😞

eighteen: h for harry styles

nineteen: kms postponed! (written)

twenty: haechan x y/n crumbs

twenty-one: how tf we feelin (written)

twenty-two: use protection 😏

twenty-three: missed connection

twenty-four: shhhh 🤫

twenty-five: enemies to lovers trope

twenty-six:

twenty-seven:

twenty-eight:

twenty-nine:

thirty:

[zyafics]

RED FERRARI CHASE | 01

MAIN | MASTERLIST | IRL & Social Media AU

Pairing — F1 Driver!Rafe x High School Sweetheart!(F)Reader

Summary — Before Rafe became one of the best drivers on the grid, he was yours. However, when his popularity skyrocketed, he became one of the most eligible bachelors in F1, leaving you behind to indulge in the notoriety of the sport. Yet, years have passed, and he hasn’t stopped thinking about you: his first love, his high school sweetheart, the only person to believe in him. When new management takes over his team, he’s afraid their new strategy could undermine his role in the cutthroat league. But in an unexpected twist of fate, Rafe discovers you returning to the circuit as part of the new leadership—now, with a ring on your finger. Engaged to his boss.

Content — formula one au

Zya's Notes — the formula 1(01) is credited to @/_f1everything_ on tiktok!

Navigation — Part 01 | Part 02

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).

TAGLIST FOR RFC: @nemesyaaa / @promiscuousg1rl / @st4rlveur / @aliyahwritings / @maybankiara / @xoxosblogsblog / @w11ore4rina /@yuckblushin / @tashiagalinda / @ivysprophecy / @cameronsprincess / @perfectprettypisces / @papercranesandinkstains / @murdockcastleslut / @helaenas-queen / @zuccheromorena / @coralineyouareinterribledanger / @landosgirl97 / @aias-fxtns / @halaxxxx / @rafeslovergirl / @harrys-housewife / @colbysbrocks / @psychicnatural / @namelesslosers / @justdamnpeachy / @lilithblackkk / @inthelibrarybtw / @adribarbie / @eviiiiieeeeeeeeee / @mbella607 / @squemzzi / @kqliie / @chenslucy / @forzkdlin / @addiessblack / @urbrunettebombshell / @elixirina / @the0neandonlyjules / @surazim / @itsnotsunnyy / @evelynffics / @purplerose291 / @a-lovers-card / @mileyraes / @railingsofsorrow / @ilovefiction4lmen / @heartsforrafecam / @bradshawed

Zya's Post Notes — if you would like to make a special appearance as a f1twt stan, let me know! in the inbox, preferably, drop a username and your display name! <3

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Freefall | D.M. & H.P

feat Draco Malfoy x roommate!reader x Harry Potter

SUMMARY: Secrets can only stay buried for so long in a cramped London flat. When the truth finally comes out, your relationship with your flatmates, Harry and Draco, will never be the same.

CW: MDNI 18+, college roommates!au, smut, mfm, slight angst, pining!drarry, going from friends/roommates to friends with benefits, dom!draco and switch!harry

AN: much more to come! I wouldn't call this a series, more like a collection of fics/drabbles/headcanons. my asks are open if there's anything you'd like to see!

masterlist

“Here, taste this,” Harry said, approaching the kitchen island where you were combing through your coursework, spoon covered in sauce held aloft.

You opened your mouth, not looking up from the passage on the Demiguise.

Harry chuckled, feeding you the bit of sauce. You smacked your lips, tasting the marinara Harry's made one hundred times. “Needs a bit more garlic,” you said. “But otherwise perfect.”

“You always say that,” Harry teased, rolling his eyes as he turned back to his sauce. There was something so warm about Harry, so safe, with his fluffy black hair and broad shoulders, his easy smile and quick wit.

“It's always true,” you argued, taking a sip of your wine to hide your smile.

Music from one of his muggle records filled the air, something acoustic and folksy that added to the peaceful vibe of the flat, carefully curated by yourself and your other roommate, Draco. The two of them needed a sanctuary after every they endured, and your shared flat became exactly that. A safe harbor from the chaotic world.

“Need a refill?” Harry asked, glancing at your almost empty glass, always trying to take be helpful.

“Trying to get me drunk, Potter?”

“Are we drinking?” Draco strode out from his room, his platinum hair still damp from the shower, dressed in a Slytherin crew neck and sweatpants. Your mouth went a little dry at the sight of him, the clean smell lingering on his skin, and you swallowed the rest of your wine.

“Someone is,” Harry chuckled, flashing you a cheeky smile.

Draco entered the kitchen, moving around Harry to grab a wine glass from a tall cabinet, his shirt riding up a bit to reveal the smooth skin of his lower abdomen.

“Ow! Fucker,” Harry hissed, shaking out his hand. “Damn stove.”

Draco snickered, pouring himself a generous glass of wine and topping up yours. “Distracted, Potter?” he teased, and a a flush crawled up Harry’s neck.

“Leave him alone,” you chastised, beckoning the spectacled boy towards you with a crooked finger. “Or else he’ll stop cooking for us.”

“Maybe for Malfoy,” Harry grumbled, placing his hand in your outstretched palm.

“Well, can’t have that. I’d starve to death.” Draco smirked, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of wine.

“Episkey,” you cast, healing the burn on Harry’s finger with a swipe of your thumb. “There we go,” you hummed, grinning at him.

“T-thanks,” he said, adjusting his glasses.

“How convenient, having our own pretty nurse at home,” Draco said, winking at you when you flipped him off.

Harry playfully checked Draco’s shoulder when he returned to the kitchen, and Draco muttered something in Harry’s ear, making him roll his eyes with a coy half-smile. They dove into conversation about their shared Auror classes, drastically different than your own courses for your Magical Creatures degree.

You turned back to your work, trying to tune them out and ignoring the increasingly familiar feeling of otherness that trickled in. Harry and Draco had a past that was inextricably entwined, two sides of the same coin, and their bond often left you feeling like a third-wheel in your own flat. Usually it didn't bother you, but the feelings had grown stronger and stronger over the last few weeks, creeping into almost every interaction with them and sucking the joy out of it. Tonight, it sat like a stone in your stomach.

You missed them, even though they were only a few feet away from you and you occupied the same 900 square foot space.

After a few minutes, Draco sidled up next you, leaning over your shoulder to read your notes. “Still studying, love?” He asked, close enough that his breath ghosted over your ear.

You suppressed a shiver. Draco loved nothing more than to get a rise out of you and Harry, and you weren’t in the mood to stroke his ego.

“Yes, I am,” you replied, voice more clipped than you intended, and you caught him and Harry share a look over you head, fueling your irritation.

Draco didn’t push, retreating back to his place in the kitchen. He and Harry continued to mutter to one another and exchange meaningful looks while Harry finished up dinner, acting as if you weren’t there at all.

Sometimes, if felt like they could read each other's minds, shared a connection deeper than words. Like two great trees with tangled roots, communicating in a language only the two of them understood.

Just when you were about to gather your things and hole up in your room for the night to wallow in self-pity, Harry set a plate under your nose, piled high with pasta.

“Added extra garlic for you,” he murmured, giving you a soft smile, and some of your irritation unwound.

“Thanks,” you said, a bit sheepish about your attitude.

“Course, can’t let you go hungry,” he teased, turning back to make his own plate.

Your heart gave a weak trill, but you quickly squashed it down. You were being silly, you all were just friends, roommates. They didn’t owe you anything, least of all a place in their hard-earned inner circle.

Their lives were full, and there wasn’t room for you.

After dinner, you retreated to your room to shower, trying to pull yourself together. They had enough going on in their lives; the last thing they needed was your drama on top of everything else.

But no matter what you told yourself, the feeling lingered, sour on your stomach and bitter on your tongue.

Hair towel dried and dressed in a PJ set, you ventured back out into the living room. It was empty, but the large window leading to the fire escape was cracked open, low, masculine voices floating on the air.

You debated making yourself a cup of tea and leaving them to it, but your curiosity won out. You wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and lifted the window, stepping out onto the small balcony.

Harry was leaned against the railing, hands stuffed in his hoodie, and Draco was perched on the iron steps leading to the next floor, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

To your surprise, the air was thick with tension, heavy like an incoming storm. Draco's shoulders were up to his ears, the smoke from his cigarette hanging like smog in the London streetlights.

Was it because of you?

Harry moved to help you down, his hand steady and strong in yours, and closed the window behind you. “It's cold out here,” he cautioned, noting your still damp hair. “Is that blanket warm enough?”

You nodded, giving him a small smile of thanks. “Am I, uh, interrupting?” You asked, looking up at Draco. He looked so handsome in the low light, shadows sharpening his jaw, the cherry of the cigarette making his light eyes glow.

He shook his head, taking another drag.

“Course not.” Harry rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, leaning against the railing once again. He wasn't nearly as good of a liar as Draco.

“What were you talking about?” You asked, trying to sound casual.

“Just school stuff—”

“Nothing—”

They spoke at the same time, interrupting each other, then fell quiet again.

“Uh-huh,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “Don't stop on my account,” you said, sitting on the window sill and pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

But, as you suspected, they stayed mum, exchanging a glance you couldn't decipher.

You wish it didn't, but it made you feel so alone, so…jealous. You craved their closeness more than anything.

“If you tell me what's going on, maybe I could help,” you offered.

Harry’s eyes softened. “Everything's okay. Please don't worry about us.”

“Of course I'm going to worry about you,” you countered, the edge of your voice betraying the hurt feelings you were trying to shove down.

Harry frowned, concern drawing his dark brows together. “I know, but…”

Draco stubbed his cigarette on the steps. “Come here,” he said, extending a hand to you.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

Uncertainty made your heart beat quicken, but you placed your fingers in Draco’s palm. He drew you up and between his knees on the steps, guiding your hand to wrap around his middle. The warmth of his body overruled your hesitation, and you leaned into his chest, head resting on his shoulder.

He smelled like smoke and his amber body wash, and something new fluttered to life in your belly.

“Potter’s right,” Draco murmured, his voice resonant in his chest. “You shouldn't worry about us.”

You didn't reply, unable to articulate why ‘us’ bothered you so much. Just another reminder that there was them, and then there was you.

You glanced up at Draco, finding his eyes not trained on you, but on Harry, molten like fired glass, and your hurt deepened. You tried to pull away, but Draco locked an arm around your shoulders, his gaze flicking down to yours.

You turned away, averting your eyes.

“Please don't be upset,” Harry said, a twinge of worry in his voice. “We just don't want you too—”

“We're trying to protect you,” Draco said.

You pulled back, and Draco let you, though he didn't let you step out from between his long legs. “Protect me from what? Memories?” You asked, looking to Harry.

“Memories are powerful,” he said. “They're a burden. We’re a burden, and we don't want to put that on you.”

You stared at him. “A burden?” You hissed, pulling away from Draco fully to face Harry. “How could you think that?”

Harry couldn't look at you, his eyes on the ground. “We said we would never make your life harder, pile our shit onto your shoulders after you were kind enough to open your home,” he muttered. “You don't deserve that.”

“That’s what friends do,” you said, throat thick with frustrated tears. “I thought we were friends.”

Harry's head snapped up, pain evident in his eyes. “We are friends,” he insisted, pushing off the railing to approach you. “That's why we—”

“We,” you scoffed. “You don't get it, Harry.” You turned away from him, only to bump directly into Draco's chest, his expression hard.

“You really want to know what we were talking about?” He asked, jaw feathering with tension.

“That's not—”

“It is, though. Isn't it? You're feeling left out.”

You flushed, turning away from his too-perceptive gaze, but he caught your chin with his hand, forcing you look up at him.

“Malfoy,” Harry warned.

“No, if she wants the truth, she'll have it.” Draco shot Harry a look, and the other boy made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. Draco looked back at you, a reckless sort of intensity in his eyes. “Potter here was telling me about how he asked you to taste the sauce just so he could feed it to you. It's why he made it in the first place.”

“Draco,” Harry snapped, and your eyes widened in shock.

“And then I told him that I liked your new body wash—coconut or something? And that I wondered what it tasted like on your skin.” He backed you against the brick wall, his body warm and solid against yours. Your heart was beating so loud, you almost couldn't hear him. “That the reason I came out here was because the fucking smell of you, hot and wet and naked in the shower, was driving me mad, and I was this close to charging into that bathroom and eating you for dessert.”

You were stunned silent, staring up at him in complete and utter disbelief. He wanted you? They both wanted you?

“Draco, I—”

“You wanted to know the big fucking secret, darling. That's it. We're both completely and utterly obsessed with you, sick with it.” His breath was hot against your cheek, the rumble of his voice swirling around the shell of your ear and making you shiver, that flutter you felt earlier building to a twister of want, the clarity sudden and striking.

You were jealous and hurting because you wanted them.

“We haven’t said anything because—because we don't want to ruin the one friendship we have that isn't rooted in our past,” Harry added, wringing his hands together. “We don't want to lose you, or make you uncomfortable.”

Draco moved to step back, uncertainty creeping into his expression, and a bolt of fear pierced your heart. No, no, no. You grabbed him without thinking, letting your blanket fall to the ground

“You couldn't lose me,” you admitted. “I want you both too.”

“You want us too?” Draco asked, skeptical eyes searching your face.

“Please,” you whispered.

He immediately folded, crushing you back against the wall, and crashed his mouth to your in a rough, desperate kiss. He groaned low in his throat, the sound turning your core to liquid, and drove his tongue into your mouth, swiftly taking control of the kiss. You were putty in his hands, flayed open for him to claim, to ravage with tongue and teeth. It felt like you were flying. Like he'd picked you up and dropped you over the edge of the roof. Plummeting. Freefall.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he rasped, kissing down your jaw and lapping at the place where your pulse surged under your skin. In a quick movement, Draco spun your around, his back to the wall with your back pressed to his front, his arms bracketed around your middle.

Harry was standing there, eyes wide and cheeks pink, his grip tight on the railing behind him.

“Harry,” you whined, voice pitching higher when Draco's mouth found the sweet spot under your ear.

“I—”

“Bloody hell, Potter. Fucking kiss her.” Draco ordered, and Harry surged forward like he was waiting for permission. His hands reached up to cradle your face as his lips connected with yours. Harry's kiss was softer, more timid than Draco's. A question, rather than a command.

Your hands fisted in his hoodie, drawing him closer as you licked along the seam of his lips, tasting wine and his honey lip balm as he parted for you, gliding his tongue along yours.

“Fucking finally,” Draco purred, his hand sliding under your shirt to splay across your stomach, pressing you tighter against him. “How's she taste, Potter?” He asked, his other hand coming up to rest against your throat.

“Like heaven,” Harry murmured, breath hitching when you nipped at his lower lip. He pressed himself harder against you, squishing you between their bodies, and you gasped, hands flying up to tangle in Harry’s unruly hair.

Harry grew a bit bolder, licking into your mouth with hungry strokes. Your hips canted forward, your pussy practically begging for attention, and you felt Harry's erection press against your hip, throbbing beneath his pajama pants.

“What a good girl,” Draco cooed, his hand sneaking higher to cup your breast, his thumb grazing your taught nipple. You moaned into Harry's mouth, arching your spine to press your chest into Draco's palm. “Being so sweet for us.” Draco tightened his hand around your throat, grinding his erection into your ass.

Harry's hands wandered south, pawing at your curves over your pajamas until he gripped your ass, rocking your more intentionally against him and Draco.

Draco hissed through his teeth when Harry's hand grazed his cock. You thought maybe it was an accident until you felt Harry smile, the slightest quirk of his mouth, as he brushed Draco's cock again.

“Inside, now,” Draco rumbled, shifting off the wall and send you and Harry stumbling forward.

Harry steadied you, a hand on your hip. “Is that what you want?” He asked, searching your face.

“Yes.” You nodded, tugging him in by the hoodie strings for a quick peck. “I want you,” you murmured against his lips, and he grinned.

“Come on, then,” Draco called, already inside, a hand extended to you. You took it and he hauled you inside, placing a hand over the bottom of the open window so you didn't hit your head in your haste. Harry clamored in right behind you, shutting and locking the window while Draco guided you to sit down on the couch, his lips on yours again.

Harry sat on the other side of you, shirking his hoodie. Draco leaned you back to drape across Harry's thighs, pushing up your shirt to kiss across your hips. Harry tugged the shirt over your head, exposing your chest to them.

“So pretty, sweetheart,” Harry murmured, his fingertips grazing over your ribcage, the other draped over the back of the couch. You felt like you were burning, desire spreading under your skin like a brush fire.

“Lift your hips for me, love,” Draco said, looking up at your through blond lashes. You obeyed, leaning more of your weight onto Harry, and Draco hooked his fingers into your waist band, sliding down your pants and panties in one go.

It struck you how normal this all felt. How comfortable and right.

Draco spread your legs, fingertips dimpling into your tender skin. His lips connected with your inner thigh, feather light and teasing as he trailed closer towards your dripping pussy.

Harry's hand cupped your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples lightly, just enough pressure to make you squirm, head falling back onto the couch. His eyes bounced around your body, like he couldn't decide where to focus his attention.

“Merlin, please,” you whined when Draco kissed just north of your clit, smirking against your skin.

“Please what, baby?” Draco asked, resting his cheek on your thigh.

“Please touch me.” You tangled your fingers into Draco's hair, nudging him closer to your core. “Please.”

Harry groaned above you, his cock kicking against your shoulder. But he continued his leisurely ministrations, following Draco's lead. Their easy, instinctual dynamic made your head a little fuzzy, your pussy ache.

Draco hummed, gliding his thumb over your slit, collecting the honey waiting for him. You moaned, hips chasing Draco's touch, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Holding your gaze, he swiped his tongue over his thumb, tasting you. You loosed an aggravated huff, squirming between them.

Harry shushed you, petting your head like you were an unruly kitten. “Stop torturing her, D,” Harry said, glaring down at the blond.

Draco tsked. “But don't you want a taste?” He asked, dragging two fingers through you before lifting them to Harry's mouth.

Harry’s eyes widened, going a bit glassy, and he nodded. Draco smirked triumphantly and fed his fingers between the other boys lips. Harry moaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he sucked your slick off Draco's long fingers, his tongue twining around his knuckles.

You whimpered, thighs clenching around Draco.

“Can you blame me for wanting to savor this?” Draco murmured, slipping his fingers from Harry’s mouth and bringing them back between your legs. He eased his middle finger inside of you, pumping slowly and watching your face crumble in pleasure, a broken moans spilling from your lips.

Harry placed a hand behind your head, lifting your face to his for an eager kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, heady and sweet, and you tangled your fingers into his hair, drawing him closer, kissing him harder.

Draco added another finger, scissoring you open and massaging your gummy walls with precision. His lips found your clit, nursing gently, and pleasure bloomed through you, a burgeoning glow in your belly. You gasped into Harry's mouth when he tweaked your nipples again, tugging his hair hard enough to make him whimper.

Draco kissed up your body, his fingers still fucking into you, and dragged his tongue along your cheek, a silent question. You turned your head to kiss him, his nose and chin covered in your slick. Harry nosed closer, licking at the mess along Draco's chin, and he turned, catching Harry's lips in a sloppy, almost competitive dueling of tongues. Harry groaned when you licked and kissed down his neck, Draco's fingers still coaxing soft moans from your lips.

You grabbed at the hem of Draco's shirt, struggling to pull it off in the tangle of limbs, and Draco chuckled, sitting back on his heels. He withdrew his fingers, sucking them clean before standing up to undress himself.

Harry shifted behind you, tossing his t-shirt aside. You sat up, shifting to straddle him, the only thing separating you the thin fabric of his pajama pants. You'd seen Harry shirtless countless times, his tanned skin drawn tight over lean muscles from years of Quidditch and Auror training, but having him spread out beneath you, yours to enjoy, made your cunt quiver with anticipation, your mouth fill with saliva.

Harry flushed under your gaze, averting his eyes from your openly appreciative expression. You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek, in a trail towards his ear.

“You're gorgeous, Harry,” you murmured, rolling your hips over the thick bulge between his legs. He groaned, hands moving from your thighs to grip your hips.

“Isn't he?” Draco hummed, taking a swallow of wine while he watched the two of you, an almost predatory glint in his eye. “Was always jealous that I never filled out like that.” He chuckled.

“Oh, sod off,” Harry said, breathless as you slowly rocked against him. “You were always the hot one.”

“Never said I wasn't,” Draco smirked, setting the wine glass down.

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but you silenced him with a kiss, drawing his attention back to you.

His hips bucked up into you, his cock so hard it had to be painful. Desperate to be sheathed inside you. You were ravenous for him too, plagued by the absence left by Draco's fingers. The grinding grew more intense as your need mounted, rough and sloppy in a way that had the two of you whining into the kiss, waiting for…something.

Draco leaned on the back of the couch behind Harry, smoothing your hair from your face. “You look unbelievable right now, darling,” he murmured. “So perfect for us. Right, Potter?”

Harry nodded, his face buried into the crook of your neck, calloused hands like a vice on your hips.

“You want to fuck her, Harry?” Draco combed his fingers through Harry's dark waves, tugging his head back against the couch.

“Merlin, yes. Want to fuck you so bad, love,” he panted up at you, glasses fogging from the heat of his body.

“Yes, please, Harry. Need you,” you moaned, your swollen clit dragging against his cock in a way that made you see stars.

“Go on, then. What are you waiting for?” Draco purred, knowing damn well you were waiting for his permission, even if you didn't quite know why.

Both you and Harry were too far gone to respond to his teasing. Harry wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting you up so he could free himself from his bottoms. You couldn't see what he was packing from your position, but when the head nudged your entrance, it felt like a fist prodding at you.

“Holy fuck, Harry—” you gasped, grabbing onto Draco when the head breeched your pussy, Harry grunting beneath you at the tight fit.

“Seven bloody saints, baby. S'fucking tight,” he groaned, his face buried in your tits.

“Relax, love,” Draco soothed, caressing your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “You can take it.”

“Fuck, fuck—ngh, it's too big,” you cried, even as your pussy stretched around Harry’s length, accepting him inch by torturous inch.

“It’s alright, darling. You're doing so well already.” Draco placed a tender kiss to your forehead. “Isn't she, Potter?”

“M'trying to be careful, baby but f-fuck,” Harry grated, his hips stuttering up, a flicker of pain making you whimper. “Sorry, sorry. You just feel so good.” Harry kissed up your sternum, his free hand coming up to angle your head down towards him. “Just a little more,” he murmured, your forehead resting on his. His chest rose and fell in a deep breath, and you mirrored him, breathing in tandem through the final stretch.

Your full weight settled onto his hips, his cock buried inside of you, and you both moaned as the pain morphed into pleasure, lips connecting an airy, breathless kiss.

You flexed your thighs, lifting up on Harry's cock before rolling back down, gasping into Harry's mouth at the delicious, full feeling.

“Fuck, just like that,” Harry moaned, using his grip on your hips to help you slide up and down his cock. “Merlin, you're so fucking sexy.”

Your head tipped back on your shoulders, moans spilling freely as Harry started bucking up into you, cockhead kissing your cervix with every powerful thrust and making your eyes cross. You could feel him everywhere, ecstasy humming along your nerves and sweetening your blood, the sound of your sopping pussy squelching around him wonderfully lewd.

Lost in Harry, you hadn't noticed Draco move until you heard him moan, the sound scraping through his teeth. You glanced over, seeing him stretched out in his chair, his fist wrapped around his cock and stroking slowly, watching you and Harry through heavy-lidded eyes.

It wasn't as thick as Harry’s, but long and slightly curved, the head and angry pink and shiny with precum. Draco spit onto it, lubricating himself, and your whole body reacted to the sight, clenching hard around Harry as a fresh gush of arousal surged through you.

Harry cried out, his rhythm faltering for a moment, and Draco smirked, knowing what affect he had on you.

“Shit, m’not gonna last much longer with you squeezin’ me like that—f-fucking hell,” his voice fractured into another moan when you clenched around him again, watching Draco synchronize his hand to Harry's thrusts, keeping pace with the two of you.

Fuck, it was so hot being caught between the two of them. You were the clearly at the center of their desires, but you could tell they craved one another too, got some satisfaction out of sharing you. Whether it was for pleasure, or some twisted game between old rivals, you couldn't quite tell.

You were teetering on the edge of release, Harry's hunger coupled with Draco's restraint ratcheting you higher and higher.

“Come for me, love.” Harry grabbed you by the hair, rougher than he had been, and forced you to look at him while he pounded up into you. His eyes were lust-blown and wild, cheeks flushed and brow sweaty. “Need to make you come first. C’mon, sweetheart, please—yes, baby, just like that—fuck, fuck!”

The coil in your stomach snapped at the same moment Harry's cock kicked against your walls, the first jet of release splattering against your cervix.

“Fuck, Harry!” You cried as the orgasm tore through you, bright and blissful. You clung to him, your spasming pussy making you both gasp and whine in pleasure as he continued working you over his cock. Milking himself with your limp body until the ecstasy finally dissipated.

You both collapsed back onto the couch, chests heaving and sticky with sweat. Harry drew you in for a kiss, his lips plush and tender, and you melted into his embrace, limbs heavy and thoughts sluggish.

You felt cool fingers run down your spine, making you twitch and whimper with sensitivity.

“Not done yet, are you, sweet girl?” Draco asked, urging you to turn over onto your back with a hand on your hip.

You obliged, settling with your back pressed against Harry's chest, legs falling open as Draco kneeled onto the couch. He loomed like hunter over a fresh catch, eyes shaded with desire, cock standing proud between his legs.

His fingers glided between your slit, collecting yours and Harry's combined released and pushing it back inside of you, pumping his fingers slowly into your messy entrance.

You mewled, head falling back onto Harry's shoulder as pleasure warred with overstimulation, the muscles in your legs trembling as your hips rocked into his palm.

“Shit, Draco,” Harry said, breathless as he watched Draco toy with you. “So fucking hot.”

Draco smiled, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to his cock, smearing the mix of fluids over his shaft. “I'll corrupt you yet, Potter,” he teased, then looked down at you, eyes burning. “Come here, darling.”

You instantly sat up and leaned towards him, drawn like a magnet. Helpless to disobey. His fingers carded through your hair and fisting at the base of your scalp.

“Show me that pretty little tongue,” he ordered, grabbing the base of his cock and causing it swell even larger.

Your mouth fell open, tongue lolling out, and you heard Harry curse behind you, getting a clear view from the mirror against the wall.

“Such a good slut for us, hm?” Draco traced the edge of your lips with his cockhead, smearing release across your mouth, taunting you. “One cock isn't enough for you?”

You shook your head, batting your lashes up at him, wanting to give them both a show. To please them.

“Salazar’s sakes, love. Better stop looking at me like that, or I just might run out of patience,” Draco warned, tapping your tongue with his cock.

“I think she might like that,” Harry chuckled, kissing along the curve of your shoulder.

“I think you might be right, Potter.” Draco dragged you forward, driving halfway into your mouth.

You fastened your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks while you lapped at his velveteen skin. You could taste yourself, and what must be a mix of the two of them, and your eyes rolled back into your head, a pulse of arousal making your pussy clench and drip.

Draco cursed under his breath, moving you up and down his length by your hair, watching with rapt attention as you drooled and slurped around him, going completely brainless on his cock.

“Fuck, that feels so good. If your cunt feels half as good as your mouth—shit,” Draco moaned, holding you still so he could thrust into your throat, just hard enough to make tears spring in your eyes.

“Better, I’d wager,” Harry said, reaching around to grope your tits, making you moan around Draco's cock. “Wraps around ‘ya like a glove.”

Draco grunted, suddenly pulling you off of him. He crashed his mouth to yours with nearly as much fervor as the first kiss on the balcony, all tongue and teeth . He eased you back onto Harry's chest, using his other hand to line himself up with your center.

In one thrust, he bottomed out inside you, Harry's efforts ensuring your were pliable and ready.

“Fuuuuck,” Draco moaned, his head falling onto Harry's shoulder. “So fucking ready for me, baby. Weren't you?”

You nodded, crying out when he withdrew then slammed back into you, nails raking down his back at the intensity.

“That's it—good girl, such a good little slut f’me.” He wasted no time setting a brutal pace, fucking you hard into Harry while you screamed beneath him, lost in the dizzying, brutal pleasure. Draco fucked you out of your mind while Harry kept your body rooted in place. Murmuring sweet praise in your ear, coddling you like an angel, while Draco fucked you like you were anything but.

Harry's hand slid down between your legs, quick fingers working your puffy clit. “Doing so well, lovey. He's not being too rough, is he?”

You shook your head, nails digging into Harry's veiny forearm. “N-no—feels good.”

“Merlin, this cunt is a dream,” Draco growled against your ear, nipping at your skin when you fluttered around him, his words drawing a visceral reaction from your body. “Ours, now, yeah? Potter and I’s pretty cunt?”

“Yes, yes! Fuck, Draco—m’gonna come.” You clung desperately to them, trying to find purchase in the raging storm of pleasure, but it was quickly sweeping you away, dragging you under.

“That's it, give it to me—fuck!” Draco cried out, bottoming out inside of you when his release slammed into him, the heavy kick of his cock sending you over the edge. You came hard, feeling yourself bear down on him to an almost painful degree as you entire body locked up, vision swimming from the tears pooling on your eyes.

Harry shushed you, pressing kisses into your hair. “You can take it,” he murmured. “We've got you.”

“Fucking hell, love,” Draco panted, rocking his hips into you as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the weight of their bodies keeping you from squirming away when overstimulation kicked in.

“Draco—fuck, ah, too much,” you whimpered.

“Sorry, baby,” he cooed, catching your lips in an apologetic kiss. “Could stay wrapped in your forever,” he murmured against your lips, and you felt your heart flip, heat spreading in your cheeks. Draco stole a final thrust before slumping back onto the other end of the couch, chest heaving, softening cock glistening with your combined release.

If you weren't wrung out like a sponge, you'd clean him up with your tongue.

Harry slipped out from behind you, grabbing his wand from the table to magically clean the three of you up and put his pants back on. “Are you alright, love?” He asked, draping a blanket over your shoulders and sitting beside you, suddenly sheepish again.

“I'm exhausted,” you replied with a breathy chuckle. “Good exhausted.” You amended when concern flickered across his face. “Are you okay?”

“I'm good.” He glanced over at Draco, still prone with his eyes closed. “I think you may have killed him.”

Draco lifted an arm, flipping Harry off, and you giggled. He sat up, not making any move to cover himself. “We should set some ground rules.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Would it kill you to relax for a second?”

“It's for her benefit,” Draco bit. “This could get…messy.”

You nodded in agreement, a tendril of worry curling around your spine. Draco was notorious for one night stands, was that all this was?

“It stays between us, firstly,” Draco said, and you and Harry nodded in agreement. “Potter and I living together kept the Daily Prophet open for weeks. A sex scandal is the last thing we need.”

“It's a flat thing, nothing else,” you said, getting ahead of what you were sure was coming. “Roommates that fuck.” It was safer that way, less complicated.

“Flatmates with benefits,” Harry gave a wry chuckle, though it didn't meet his eyes.

“Group only, or…?” You glanced at Draco, and he looked back at Harry.

Harry shrugged. “I'm okay with splitting off now and then.”

Draco's jaw feathered, but he didn't argue.

Shit, this really could get messy. But you were too relieved to care. Now that you'd had a taste of them, there was no way you could turn back. And it seemed the men were in agreement, even if the details were a bit murky.

“So, we have a deal?” You asked.

“Deal,” they said in unison, and you shook on it, a clumsy arrangement of three hands.

Flatmates with benefits, how hard could that be?

Thank you for reading!

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[watermelonlovershigh]

can we have some smut that sort of focuses on the bulge 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 like y/n sort of admiring it clothed and just being so into that

5 Times You've Obsessed Over Harry's Bulge (SMUT)

AN: I had too many ideas for this concept so i decided to turn this into one of my numbered fics. where i give several different scenarios. hope that's alright. don't forget to leave me your feedback and enjoy. xoxo

This contains: implications of sex, dirty talk, fluff, mild angst, jealousy, dry humping

{ husband!harry - softrry - au!harry (aka not famous in this) }

word count- 1,989

Five different scenarios where you admire and love on Harry's bulge.

There is an undeniable attraction to Harry's bulge that captivates your attention. Regardless of whether he's dressed in jeans, sweatpants, shorts, or underwear, his bulge is striking and turns you on. It's not solely the moments when his hard dick is evident beneath his clothing that draw you in; even in a relaxed state, he's so big that a subtle outline is noticeable between his legs if one chooses to observe. But note that your admiration for Harry's bulge is entirely positive and respectful. Being married, you appreciate how much he enjoys your liking to that part of him, and it brings him joy to know that you cherish something in which he exclusively shares with you.

Here's some of the instances when you gawk and drool over Harry's bulge (hard or not hard):

1.) Harry has just stepped out of the shower, and you're in bed, patiently waiting for him to join you for the night. You can hear him moving around in the bathroom, likely drying off and brushing his teeth. Moments later, he swings the bathroom door open in only his briefs, letting out a rush of humid air, and makes his way into the bedroom after turning the bathroom lights off.

Before he can walk to his side of the bed, you mutter, "Nu-hu."

Harry stops to look at you suspiciously. "What?"

You gesture for him to approach you with your index finger, and Harry complies. He walks up to your side of the bed, per your request. At this point, his lower body aligns with the height of the bed, bringing his bulge almost directly in front of you. You can tell he isn't hard just from recognizing what his relaxed appendage looks like. However, the considerable size of him creates a pronounced outline in his boxer briefs.

You look down between his legs and shift closer to the edge of the bed, leaning in to place a gentle kiss directly on his bulge. Harry lets out a soft moan. "Baby, mhm. What'r you doin'?"

Smiling up at your husband, you reply, "Giving little Harry a kiss goodnight."

Harry tilts his head back and laughs heartily. "Oh, little Harry is gonna offer you much more than just a goodnight kiss in return." He climbs onto the bed, positioning himself over your body, and it's evident that the soft bulge that was previously concealed in his underwear has become firm and is now nestled between your legs.

2.) As you're lounging on the couch, Harry burst through the door, breathless and slick with sweat from his morning run around the neighborhood. You can't help but to drool over his appearance. His hair is secured in a small claw clip on the top of his head, and his skin is shimmering with a sun-kissed hue. He has a way of looking exceptionally good after a workout. Especially when his bare, yet tattooed chest is visible. As well as the defined bulge between his legs that's quite eye-catching.

Standing up from the sofa, you make your way over to where Harry's kicking his running shoes off and wrap your arms around him in a hug. Giggling, Harry speaks, "Baby, m' all sweaty and probably stink."

Still latched on to him in a hug, you reply, "Don't care. You're so hot after a run."

Harry now becomes cocky, loving the way you're speaking about him. "Yeah? Does it turn you on?"

You give a slight nod and let one of your hands glide down, carefully cupping his bulge through his tight running shorts. Harry almost falls, his knees nearly collapsing. Fortunately, you're there to steady him in your hold.

As you feel his bulge begin to grow in your hand, you kneel and carefully pull down his shorts, offering him a blowjob right in the foyer of your house. The slight taste of sweat introduces an additional flavor, but you proceed with the same eagerness as always.

Harry feels honored to have a wife who finds him so appealing that you'll engage in such activities after his exercise, a sentiment not many people would consider doing.

3.) You're on a short road trip. Harry has arranged a delightful surprise: a weekend escape to a charming Airbnb cabin located in the woods. As he drives, you sit comfortably in the passenger seat, with the soothing sounds of Fleetwood Mac playing gently in the background.

With the windy roads and calm scenery, Harry can't help but let his mind wander to you and how much he loves you. How special you are to him. How he can't wait to make love to you in front of the cozy fireplace at the cabin that awaits you both.

Deep in his thoughts, it takes Harry a few minutes to realize his cock was hardening up in his jeans. He didn't mean to get hard while driving, it just sort of happened. But that's what tends to happen anytime he starts daydreaming about you. He chalks it up to being a love boner.

For a while, Harry sits in his seat uncomfortably, occasionally shifting to adjust himself. After the tenth time of moving in his seat, you begin to notice and question, "You alright, babe? Gotta pee or something?"

Trying to play it off, Harry lies, "Nope, m' fine. All good." That's when you take a closer look and notice the bulge between his legs.

"Harry, you're hard. What's got you so worked up while you're driving?"

Embarrassed, he admits, "Fine, was thinkin' about you and how much I love you and all the things I wanna do to you at the cabin. Didn't mean to get hard."

With a softer tone, you reply, "Yeah, that's so sweet of you, baby." Harry thinks the moment is over, but he's caught off guard when he feels your hand move across the center console to grasp him over his jeans. He tilts his head back, moaning softly, as you continue to rub your palm over his bulge, aiming to make him jizz in his pants. Ultimately, he finds it necessary to pull over, as his foot on the gas pedal begins to tremble, and he wishes to avoid any danger of crashing.

4.) It was the middle of July when you and Harry decide to enjoy a day at the beach. You're wearing your black bikini, and Harry's sporting his tight yellow swim trunks. You spend most of your time lying on your beach towel, attempting to tan, while Harry lays next to you for a short period before opting to take a swim.

He instructs you to sit up and watch him, reminiscent of a young child, and you find it quite endearing. Harry ventures a few feet into the water as the waves collide with his tattooed chest, and you notice him waving at you with his sun-kissed arms.

Moments later, Harry emerges from the salty sea, and you observe closely as he approaches your designated area on the beach. You notice several beachgoers directing their attention towards him, and you even hear a man whistle as your husband walks by. This fires up a hint of jealousy within you, yet you find solace in the fact that he'll be in your bed tonight, not theirs.

As Harry stands before you, water cascading down his body, the reason for the attention he's receiving becomes evident. While it's a known fact that he's generally considered an attractive man, it's the unmistakable outline of his cock that's visible through his wet swim shorts that's captured the gaze of onlookers. You're aware that Harry usually exhibited some form of a bulge, but the thin fabric of his swimwear, now soaked, leaves little to the imagination.

While you admire the view, you're less than pleased that everyone else on the beach is enjoying the same sight. You tug at Harry's hand, urging him to take a seat beside you on his towel. "Ouch! What was that for?"

Turning your head to face him, you whisper, "Your swim trunks, Harry."

Confused, Harry asks, "What about them?"

With a sigh of frustration, you express, "You can see everything in those shorts. They fit snugly around your hips and they're thin and wet. The outline of your dick is clearly visible. Your bulge is very defined right now."

"Thought you liked my bulge?" Harry speaks with a cheeky smile.

"Harry, you know I do but I don't want the whole beach to see it too."

With a more serious tone, Harry conveys, "M'love, I could be fully unclothed, wanderin' this beach, and let me assure you: you are the only one who has the right to touch my body. You're the only one who truly sees me, both outwardly and inwardly. Not anyone else."

Smiling back, you retort, "So, does that mean I could walk around naked too and....."

Before you even get a chance to finish, Harry cuts you off. "Nope, absolutely not. Not a chance I'll let anyone see you naked. That's for my eyes only."

5.) What started out as a cozy cuddle on the couch while watching a movie, quickly develops into a heated make-out session. The idea that making out is only for teenagers and not for married couples is fundamentally incorrect. You and Harry love making out with one another.

You're situated over Harry, who's lying along the length of the sofa. He's wearing only his underwear, as the plan was to head to bed right after the movie. You, in contrast, are dressed in just a pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt.

As the kisses get more and more heated, the more you can feel Harry growing between your legs. Your cunt is aligned directly over his erect cock, resulting in fabulous pressure against your clothed clit. So what do you choose to do? You begin to grind down over the prominent bulge in his briefs.

"Oh, fuck, baby!" Harry groans between kisses.

Lowering your mouth along the scruffy surface of his face, you notice your breathing becoming more intense. "Feels so good, Harry. Your bulge is so big and hard between my legs." You continue to move your hips, appreciating the way his clothed cock presses against your clit as you continue to dry hump his bulge. Your wet patch now seeping through your panties and onto the front of his own underwear.

At first, Harry considers stopping you, thinking to suggest that you just pull him out of his briefs and actually fuck yourself on his dick. However, he becomes captivated with the way you're lost in your own pleasure, moving against him so freely. Therefore, he opts to relax and let you take the lead, letting you do as you please.

After about three minutes of dry humping his enlarged bulge, you pant out in his warm neck, "I'm gonna come, H."

"Shh, it's okay, baby. Come f'me. Come over m'cock. Know it feels so good on your little clit doesn't it?" He strokes your back in a soothing manner and starts to elevate his hips in rhythm with your movements, which have slightly faltered. The extra pressure from his upward grinding pushes you to your peak. You tremble and shake over top of him.

Harry makes a sincere effort to hold back his own orgasm, intending to wait until you've finished and then allow you to get him off in a different way. He's always found the experience of coming in his underwear to be quite an unpleasant feeling, particularly due to the messy cleanup that follows. However, he ultimately can't hold back. As soon as he feels your pussy fluttering over his bulge, he succumbs to his orgasm, resulting in his cum coating the inside fabric of his briefs and pubic hair.

When you both finally calm down, you allow your body to relax over his and say, "God, do I love your bulge. Felt so good."

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

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My Masterlist Masterpost

[iamnmbr3]

crack au where in the beginning of book 3 when sirius comes to see harry in dog form he just...follows him onto the Knight Bus. and Harry's like 'well this is weird' but his life is weird. so whatever. and then the whole rest of the summer the dog just stays with him. since other people can see the dog he figures it's definitely not a Grim. And the dog seems pretty friendly. and well behaved. and he kinda likes. so harry's just shrugs and is like 'well this might as well happen' and when he meets up with his friends he tells them apparently he has a pet dog now.

can't decide if that would mean that book 3 still happens the same way as in canon or if peter takes one look at sirius and ditches and ron's always confused about why Scabbers ran away OR if Sirius eats Scabbers and consequently voldemort doesn't return and Harry has a very chill rest of his time at Hogwarts (except for the bit where he inevitably discovers that his dog is actually not a dog).