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starlightstevie · 4 years ago

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fics rec / january 2021

And I’m back with another fic rec! There’s some absolute goodies in this month’s rec - I hope you enjoy them as much as I did! Happy reading x

(* is smut)

*tale as old as time (series) by @spacelabrathor Beast!Thor x reader: Thor is a beast, prowling the halls of an empty castle alone, living a life of cold, barren solitude. Villagers visit once yearly to bring him gifts he does not seek, piling valueless trinkets at his gate they feel will keep him appeased. They hate Thor and Thor knows, someday, that they will breach his gates and come for his head. He wonders to himself, often, if he will try to stop them when they do. This year, though, the offering has changed. Thor finds not trinkets at his front gate, but a girl, and then everything begins to change.

COWBOY THOR COWBOY THOR COWBOY THOR by @inthorantine While not officially out yet, I am putting this here because everyone needs to read this! Kait has outdone herself and no, I will not stop talking about this for the next 500 years. Here’s some h/c to keep you going until it comes out! One | Two

*if I love you was a promise by @blueberrythor Thor x reader: Thor doesn’t consider himself a jealous man–there aren’t many who could compare to him, especially among mortals. He hasn’t had much reason to acquaint himself with the feeling. But watching you with Steve, even he isn’t immune to the sharp sting of jealousy.

*The Watching by @opheliadawnwalker3 Thor x reader (some Loki x reader): Reader has been dating Thor for about a year and is celebrating her first Yuletide on Asgard. But she’s unprepared for certain traditions that are expected of her. Or that these traditions also involve Thor and his companions.

*Desperate Measures by @lancsnerd Thor x reader: When an agent is affected by sex pollen and needs assistance, just how helpful will Thor be?

*passionate & burning by @peachyteabuck Thor x reader: You’re busy with working from home, but Thor has other plans for the day.

*my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand by @spacelabrathor Frontier!Thor x reader: Thor makes a home and a life for his family out on the rugged frontier of the Old West. The winters are unforgiving but he keeps them safe and warm. At night, their cabin glows with firelight and the warmth of their company. A small slice of their life together.

*survive the summer and its sequel *hungry for me by @peachyteabuck (Dubcon) Thor x reader: A stranger approaches you on a warm summers day.

*the fluffer (series) by @punani Masterlist 70′s pornstar!Chris Evans x black!reader: It’s the 70′s and the erotic videos industry is experiencing another boom after the risen popularity in the previous decade. The studio’s are hot, Gemini Flanagan is a brand, and you’re a newly hired assistant at Shaggin’ Studios. Chris takes a liking to you, altering your job description so that you get to work more closely with him. Is this all just physical, or is there something more?

*old flannel by @honeysucklesteve Chris x reader: an innocent night of lounging in his old flannel leads to not to innocent touches.

*sunday football by @honeysucklesteve Chris x reader: Chris sits you on his lap as he teaches you all about football.

*grocery run by @honeysucklesteve Chris x reader: Innocently wearing Chris’ shirt leads to you finding out just how much he can’t resist you.

*Captain by @chrissquares Nomad!Steve x reader: You call Steve a name that drives him wild.

*A Birthday Gift by @the-iceni-bitch Nomad!Steve x reader: The nomad crew have been holed up with you for months and tensions are high. Nat, being an unrepentant pot stirrer, decides to arrange a pleasant birthday surprise for you.

*let me come home to you (series) by @evansweaters Masterlist Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader: After years at a dead-end job shouldering everyone’s expectations for you but your own, you’re finally free to be whoever you want, go wherever you want. That is, until a series of unfortunate events strand you in amber’s end, where the sheriff – and notoriously unmated pack alpha – decides to take you in.

*mountainside by @honeysucklesteve Nomad!Steve x reader: Steve needs something to give him a release and you do just that.

*steve needs to relax, good thing you’re here by @honeysucklesteve

*Such a Shame by @angrythingstarlight Steve x reader: You owe him for saving your life, the price is more than you were willing to pay, such a shame you have to force his hand.

*Captain Jealousy by @nony-bear Steve x reader: You and Steve have been keeping your relationship a secret to avoid public backlash for your age difference. However, after watching Steve flirt with a new agent at one of Tony Stark’s famous parties, your jealousy and frustration come to a head.

*A Christmas Compromise by @stargazingfangirl18 Ransom x reader: Even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself, all you wanted for Christmas was Ransom.

*a man of god by @punani Priest!Ransom x reader: You’ve always been a good girl– attending mass regularly, never been touched by yourself or another, and the way that you dress? a naive innocence radiates off of you. even a man of god can’t help himself, not that he puts any effort into refraining from forbidden fruit.

*Naughty or Nice by @sweeterthanthis Ransom x reader: Getting caught nibbling on forbidden holiday treats.

*her cherry lips on his whiskey flavoured kiss by @cloudystevie Ransom x reader: The moment he met you, he knew.

Not My Style by @chrissquares Ransom x reader: With cold weather comes dry lips..

*In Good Hands by @ozarkthedog (Dark) Doctor!Andy Barber x reader: Your usual OBGYN Doctor got called away leaving Dr. Barber to administer your pap exam.

*Drowning by @savior-adriana Andy x reader: You love working as Jacob’s tutor in German. Not necessarily because you love the language or the teen’s attitude, but because it means you get to spend time alone with a certain Andy Barber once a week.

*Something Old, Something New by @sweeterthanthis Stepdad!Bucky x reader: To this day you couldn’t work out why he’d chosen your mother. They were total opposites, a mismatched couple if ever you saw one. Yet, you watched it play out – thinking, hoping, that he’d never go through with it.

*Beg for Daddy by @sweeterthanthis Stepdad!Bucky x reader: The thought of your mother passed out next door, the other side of your bedroom wall, did nothing to quell the intense hunger you felt for him.

*it’s the right time to roll to me (series) by @blueberrythor Masterlist Bucky x married!reader: Stuck in an unhappy marriage, you find solace in Bucky.

*about last week by @xbuchananbarnes Bucky x reader: You’ve been avoiding Bucky.

*need by @cloudystevie Bucky x reader: You’re horni for Bonky’s metal hand

Season of the Witch by @msmarvelwrites Bucky x reader: Your witchy abilities get you in quite a bit of trouble from time to time… But this time you don’t mind so much.

*The Bet (series) by @no-droids Part One | Part Two Poe x reader: There are 3 rules to the bet between you and your x-wing commander: No sex, No touching yourself, No orgasms.

*the shakes by @whistlingwillows Poe x reader: “It’s the Shakes, darling. Makes everything excruciating.” Or, you’re experiencing the terrible side effects of being horny and Poe Dameron knows just how to fix it.

Mornings with Modern!Poe by @okay-hotshot Modern!Poe x reader: You and Poe try to have some alone time while you wait for your morning coffee and tea to brew, only to have your child interrupt you and run away yowling.

frigid by @whirlybirbs Mando x reader: Din doesn’t like the ocean. You’re soaked.

Getting vulnerable with Mando by @cptnbvcks

*men of the bau: kinks by @luciilferss

open road by @gayprentiss Emily Prentiss x JJ Jareau: After retiring from the BAU, JJ and Emily decide to forgo an apartment in favor of an old sprinter van.

*Teacher’s Pet by @imagining-in-the-margins Professor!Reid x reader: There are only a few reasons to sign up for Criminal Psychology. You could be like the reasonable students and join the class because you are genuinely interested in the material, or you could be like the rest of us. That is, you could enroll in the class because the professor is a fine piece of ass fresh out of prison.

*Spencer taking you in the library by @spenciebabie

*of terrible coffee and late-night rides by @venusbarnes Hotch x reader: A collection of moments throughout your relationship with one Aaron Hotchner.

*fragrance by @whistlingwillows College!Hotch x reader: Plato said, “The god of love lives in a state of need. It is a need. It is an urge. It is a homeostatic imbalance. Like hunger and thirst, it's almost impossible to stamp out.”

*bitter end (series) by @whistlingwillows Masterlist Hotch x reader: Author Sarah Dessen wrote, “Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend.”

*Beard Kink by @reidsexualwriting Hotch x reader: Hotch with a beard has you feeling all types of ways.

*Lunch break by @arganfics Hotch x reader: You help Hotch relax after a tough day.

*Early Mornings by @mrvltwimagines Hotch x reader: The very rare mornings where you wake up and your boyfriend was still home and in bed were definitely cherished by you.

*Do you like that? Being in control? by @writefasttalkevenfaster Hotch x reader: You decide that Hotch needs a break from being in charge.

*Waking up Hotch with a blowjob by @writefasttalkevenfaster

Taking a day off with Hotch by @ssahoodrathotchner

*eat until your blood sings by @peachyteabuck Tony Stark x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers x Clint Barton x Thor Odinson x reader: Gangbang with the Avengers.

*Anakin Skywalker has a big dick by @anakinswhore

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faubourgs · 6 years ago

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Muggle Lovers are Revolting, by casspeach

Draco took patrol because it was better than sitting in the Slytherin common room watching people ignore him, at best, or talk about him behind their hands and pretend they weren’t. It was a boring job, because only idiots would be out of bed after curfew when the punishment could be anything from lines to torture depending on who caught you.

Idiots like, say, Neville Longbottom, who was painting the doors of the Great Hall in red and gold flashing letters that read ‘Dumbledore’s Army - Still Recruiting because he hadn’t left enough space for the entire slogan.

Which, shit. Draco hadn’t meant to actually run into anyone. He’d chosen his patrol route carefully to avoid the likelihood of so much as stumbling upon a midnight tryst, let alone finding someone he knew actively campaigning for the resistance.

“Ah,” Neville said as Draco loomed behind him, as much as one can when one is rather shorter and considerably less broad in the shoulder than the person behind whom one is looming.

“Ah?” Draco repeated, incredulous. In truth he had no earthly idea what to say next himself. There was just something so blatant, so unrepentant, so stupidly brave about the way Neville was standing there. “Is that all you’ve got to say for yourself?”

He was expecting maybe a bit of cowering, or a stammered excuse, or...well anything but what happened, which was laughter.

“What can I say?” Neville asked. “I’m under Imperius? I just happened to pick up the paintbrush which I found lying here as I walked past? I’ve got some kind of atypical grammar-related OCD that meant I couldn’t leave it saying ‘now recruit’?”

“OCWhat?”

“Never mind. As the Muggles say: It’s a fair cop, guv. You’ve got me bang to rights.”

Now Draco would never claim to be any kind of expert on Muggles, but he did think they spoke English, and his confusion only deepened when Neville held out his hands - no, his wrists - as though Draco might want to bind them or something.

Draco had long suspected there was something not quite right in Longbottom’s brain, and it seemed he was right. Still, he wasn't so saintly as to deny, even if only to himself, that Neville made quite the appealing picture, standing there in that submissive pose.

As soon as the thought formed in his head bile rose in his throat. He’d been at the mercy of that kind of attention too often over the summer holidays to feel comfortable dishing it out.

“Are you all right?” Neville asked sounding genuinely concerned. The idiot even took a step forward and held out a hand as if to touch Draco’s shoulder. “You look like someone just walked over your grave.”

“I am fine,” Draco insisted, but it sounded hollow and false in his own ears, an obvious lie. “On account of I am not the one facing detention with...” and of course it was the Carrows. Well Alecto was on the rota, but wherever she was her brother wouldn’t be far away. “Look, just forget it. Consider yourself cautioned. Don’t be so bloody stupid as to get caught in future.”

Neville actually had the bad grace to look disappointed, if only for a fleeting moment.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Draco spat. “Were you wanting to be punished by Alecto Carrow? I’d hate to get in the way of some sort of assignation.”

“Assig-? No, of course not, I just, well. I don’t understand why you’re letting me go.”

“Neither do I, so I suggest you piss off before I come to my senses.”

Which Neville, of course, didn’t do. At least not quickly enough for Draco to avoid imagining the footsteps of another prefect down the hall behind him, and the horrors he’d be subjected to when the powers that be discovered he let one of the heads of Dumbledore’s Army escape his grasp. A bead of cold sweat made its unpleasant way down his spine before Neville furrowed his brow and asked, “Are you not even going to order me to clean that up first?”

And really, lessons from a defacer of school property in how to be a better prefect was just too much to take.

“No I’m bloody well not,” Draco said. “For one thing how the hell does that give any plausibility to ‘I don’t know who painted it, I just found it like that’ and for another...”

For another Draco wasn’t sure he’d survive watching Neville scrub anything. He’d probably have to get on his knees for the lowest part of the phrase, and maybe he’d get wet and his shirt would draw tight over those impressive Herbologically enhanced shoulders and - and Draco was better than that, or at the very least he wanted to pretend for a little while longer that he was.

“For another?” Neville prompted, dragging Draco back from his musings.

“Never mind. Just, I don’t know, consider it recompense for the Remembrall thing, and don’t do anything so stupid in future.”

“Can’t promise you that,” Neville said with a shrug.

The correct and proper and appropriate response, Draco knew, was not to ponder exactly what Neville might be willing to promise.

But Neville was finally doing as he’d been told and leaving, and, beyond a sneaky glance at his retreating figure, Draco was happy enough to let him. Later he could let his fantasies take him where they would, and Merlin knew Longbottom was clumsy enough to spill soapy water all over himself, and eager enough to please to most likely do anything Draco demanded of him. For now though, he had to clean up the graffiti, and report to the Carrows.

And that, he rather thought, would be that.

Except three days later, having shown absolutely no apparent awareness that Draco even existed outside of Defence against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies lessons in which they were forced to interact, Draco once again ran into Longbottom on patrol.

And again two week’s later.

And...Draco would say he’s forgotten how long after that the next time was, but he’d be lying, even to himself, because every time is just another load of wank fodder for the quiet, lonely, cold moments alone in the Slytherin dorm.

This last time, Neville carried on painting even after Draco had pointedly coughed to make his presence known, putting a final underline to ‘we want YOU for the DA’.

“I’m afraid my allegiance is already given elsewhere,” Draco said when Neville had finished, and sure enough the git didn’t even jump, so he’d known Draco was there all along. “And that paint is an absolute bastard to get off, so I’d really be terribly grateful if you’d stop bloody well smearing it all over the school.”

Neville smirked and leant against the newly painted slogan. He looked like the perfect advert for Hogwarts’ underground resistance lounging there, in his ghastly cardigan and with a smear of red and gold paint highlighting one cheek and the tip of his nose.

Possibly Draco had spent a little too much time thinking about what lay beneath the granddad clothes in the last few days, and not enough time recalling that it was Longbottom, who could barely transfigure a teacup into a different teacup, didn’t like to fly and would forget his own head if it wasn’t screwed on.

“Believe it or not, Draco,” Neville said, and honestly, how far gone must Draco be for the sound of his name in that ridiculous soft accent to send actual shivers down his spine? “I’m not doing this purely to annoy you. There’s a purpose to the consciousness-raising we’re engaged in.”

Which Draco did know, of course he did, and maybe, just maybe, he took a little - carefully concealed - pleasure in hearing the Death Eaters in the faculty bitch and moan about the DA, and the graffiti, and the prank hexes that sprung up from time to time.

On the other hand there was such a thing as a risk-benefit ratio, and when the risks Neville was taking were so huge, surely the benefits could do with being rather larger than merely being a small thorn in a relatively inconsequential side.

When Draco suggested as much, Neville got a strange far-away look in his eye, and his smirk evened out into something approaching a smile.

Which was absolutely fucking infuriating.

Draco knew what he was talking about here.

Last year had been the worst of his life as he’d watched himself get manipulated into actions that horrified and shamed him, and this year was panning out to be worse, and Neville - a boy who could barely remember which way to hold his wand - had the audacity to be smiling at him like it was a good thing that the Carrows were going to snap one day and just bloody well AK him.

If he was lucky.

And wasn’t that really the worst thing? The very real possibility that if they did ever catch Neville, it would fall to Draco to torture and kill him, to prove fealty.

He shoved himself into Neville’s space.

“Look, you insufferable moron,” he hissed. “This is not a bloody game.”

“I know,” Neville replied, and it wasn’t the flippant response Draco hadn’t even realised he feared, but a genuine one, warmly spoken as though Neville understood and even sympathised with Draco’s concerns. He put a hand on Draco’s shoulder, heavy and warm, and solid and safe. “I promise you, I know. And you may not think it’s worth it, but I do.”

“How can it possibly be? You’re nobody. It’s like you’re hoping to fill the void at the top of the meddling sanctimonious Gryffindor tree left by the departure of Potter, and I’ve got news for you. Potter you are not.”

It was the first thing Draco said, in any of these weird meetings, that seemed to give Neville pause.

“Obviously I didn’t mean nobody,” Draco amended, feeling unaccountably shitty. “I just meant -”

“D’you know, in all these years,” Neville interrupted, apparently quite oblivious to Draco’s grovelling apology, “I’ve never once been sorry that I’m not Harry, until right now.”

It took Draco a moment to parse that, together with the soft sadness in Neville's expression and tone, into sense, but when he did he felt his temper spike once more. He swatted Neville’s chest with one hand, and couldn’t help but notice it was every bit as firm as he’d daydreamed.

“I don’t want you to be Potter, you complete idiot,” he objected. “I just want you to be safe.”

Which he hadn’t exactly meant to say out loud, but now that he had he couldn’t find a way to take it back before Neville surged forward and kissed him.

Or knocked their mouths together anyway, rather too hard, and totally wonderfully, if for far too short a time for Draco to be able to transmute the desperation of it into something a little gentler before Neville pulled away again, flushing as red as the paint on his cheek and stammering an apology.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t...I’m sure that’s not at all what you meant,” Neville said, eyes wide and panicked.

“It’s exactly what I meant,” Draco said, with as much sincerity as he could manage and unable to tear his gaze away from Neville’s mouth to check his expression. Not that it seemed to matter since Neville cupped his hands around Draco’s face and kissed him again.

This time it was slightly less desperate and Draco had a chance to kiss back. A chance he took with both hands - curled into fists in the wool of Neville's cardigan in case he got any more stupid ideas about not being welcome.

Neville smelled of paint and faintly of the fertiliser Sprout used on the mandrakes. His hands were warm and dry and shaking ever so slightly, and it was those details that reassured Draco that he probably wasn’t going to wake up in his green-curtained four-poster to find this was all a dream. Draco’s dreams didn’t tend to be so detailed anymore, as though even his subconscious had given up trying to outdo the horror of his day-to-day life.

He was shaking a little himself, pushing up against Neville in a way that was as much about contact as it was about sex.

But even as good as the arms around him felt, as stupidly hot as Neville had got while no one was really paying attention, and as clumsy and perfect as the kiss was, it wasn't enough to stop part of Draco’s brain from paying attention to what was going on in the corridor.

He pulled away at the first hint of a sound from the far end, survival mechanisms finely honed by the summer, and was torn between impressed and surprised that Neville was every bit as alert. Even if he did look a bit dishevelled. Sort of like a bloke who’d just been thoroughly snogged, in fact, which made Draco’s knees go a bit funny, even as he was worrying what he looked like himself. It wouldn’t do for the Carrows to think he was enjoying himself.

Whoever it was walking past, they didn’t come down the corridor where Draco and Neville were holding their breath, but their echoing footsteps seemed to take an age to retreat and fade.

“Bloody hell, that was stupid,” Neville said, dragging a hand through his hair in a way that made it look even more like he’d just got out of bed. “I suggest you make yourself scarce.”

“Oh well, thank goodness you’re here, Longbottom,” Draco spat back. Of all the things he’d been called in his life, ‘stupid’ cut pretty deep being delivered by someone who was self-proclaimedly still recruiting for a dead man’s army. “I was just going to stand here, next to your graffiti, until someone found me.”

“I just meant-” Neville started, but Draco was already stalking away down the corridor, and it wasn’t until much later that he realised what the end of that sentence was going to be.

He’d just meant Draco should go first.

Not that Draco was going to tie himself in knots for being a bit sharp with Longbottom. That would be ridiculous, even if he was a surprisingly decent kisser, and pretty much the only person in the entire castle still treating Draco like a human being.

And if Draco found he couldn’t sleep that evening, well, what of it? Sleep was a precious commodity in dark times like these.

He still felt bad the next morning, which he told himself was just his good breeding showing through, and really, it wasn’t as if he wanted to catch Neville gazing longingly at him across the Great Hall over breakfast, but some sort of acknowledgment might have been nice. By the time Muggle Studies rolled around the following day he’d all but forgotten that he wasn’t the wronged party.

Neville continued to ignore him in the class, probably because he was far too busy arguing with most of the lecture.

Even though no one really believed that Muggles needed to be subject to proper husbandry procedures and the less genetically desirable ones forcibly sterilised, did they? Well, maybe Crabbe and Goyle, Draco supposed, but the point was Neville wasn’t going to change Alecto’s mind, so why bother putting himself in the firing line again.

By the end of the class Draco’s jaw ached from where he had to grind his teeth to keep from begging Neville to shut up, shut up, shut up.

But Neville paid him as much mind as he had at mealtimes these past few days, and Draco honestly couldn’t have said if he was more relieved, or annoyed, that Neville escaped the lesson unscathed apart from a detention and thirty points taken from Gryffindor.

That night was Draco’s regular patrol night, and he found himself daydreaming about what he’d say if he ran into Longbottom again.

Perhaps the silent treatment would be best. Fight fire with fire, as it were, he mused as he started his rounds. Or perhaps take the moral high ground and have another go at pointing out the futility of arguing with the Carrows, and the likely rewards for continuing to do so.

Just as long as he managed to keep the question he most wanted answering locked up tight behind his teeth he didn’t really care. Because as humiliating as it was to have let Neville Longbottom snog him and then toss him aside like a HankyPanky Hankie, it wasn’t as bad as demanding to know why, or what he could do to get back in Neville’s good graces. Or, Merlin forbid, giving him the Insuadible potion he’d brewed especially for Neville in his free period, in hopes of who even knew? Winning him back or some such nonsense.

In all his imaginings, it hadn’t actually occurred to him that it might not even be Neville he ran into on this patrol until he had practically walked into a trio of first-years who were arguing over where the accent went in La Résistance.

Which mostly just confirmed Lucius’s opinion of the poor standards of education at the school even prior to its Death-Eaterification, because frankly Draco thought it was perfectly bloody obvious. But perhaps all those private tutors and exchange trips had been worth it after all.

“Obviously it goes over the e,” he drawled, snatching the paintbrush form the suddenly lax grip of the signpainter and adding it with a good deal of panache if he did say so himself. “Really, where else could it possibly go?”

The first-years paled gratifyingly, and one began to cry quietly, so at least Neville hadn’t told his minions that Draco was harmless. He didn’t really want to have to prove anything to the contrary unless it was absolutely essential.

None of them spoke for a long time, Draco having learnt the effectiveness of terrified silence, and the trio having apparently not been given any advice or training on how to bluff their way out of being caught. Which was something Draco would certainly have remedied, had he been in charge of...well, not that that was likely to ever happen.

“Nothing to say for yourselves?” he asked after a moment. “Defacing school property, political slogans, support of a banned group. It’s really not looking good for you at all. No defence forthcoming at all?”

Come on, he thought. Give me something to work with.

None of them could manage so much as a squeak. It was probably a good thing that he was still capable of being terrifying, but, where he would have enjoyed this a year or two ago, now it just made him feel nauseated.

But what was he supposed to do? He’d caught them red-handed, mostly because he hadn’t been paying enough attention to avoid them, and he could hardly expect that word wouldn’t get round that he was a soft touch if he let them go. And that would potentially mean the Carrows finding out and feeding it back to the Dark Lord himself, and Draco just couldn’t face bringing any more grief on his family.

Curse Longbottom and his bloody shoulders and the way he’d seemed like a safe haven for a few moments.

“I don’t see that you give me any choice,” he said, with a sigh that he hoped the first-years would think of as put-on. “If you’d like to -”

“There you are,” came a familiar, and despite Draco’s best intentions, welcome, voice, followed shortly afterwards by its owner. Neville skidded to a halt in what would almost have been a comical way, but for the circumstances, and stared at Draco wide-eyed for a long aching moment. “I mean, um, of course this is where you are, you know how easily I get lost. But I’m back now, so, thank you for looking after my paintbrush and everything for me, like I asked you to, when I’d finished painting that graffiti. You can go now.”

Draco’s eyebrow rose as Neville talked, chest heaving with the effort after what had clearly been a dead run all the way from the Gryffindor tower most likely.

“Oh, they can go, can they?” he queried, trying to ignore the looks of outright hero worship on the first-years faces when they looked at Neville, or, all right, trying at the very least not to emulate them.

“I take full responsibility for what’s happened here,” Neville replied, like that was any kind of appropriate answer. The timbre of his voice dropped lower when he next spoke. “You know I’ve got priors for this particular offence.”

“Maybe I don’t accept your claim,” Draco retorted, because really, how was it fair that Neville looked every bit as delectable as he had the other night? And more to the pjoint how was it fair that he was staring at Draco like he felt exactly the same way.

#part 1

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