#he threw a sofa at them instead is funny though

[clonerightsagenda]

So did Ezekiel not have ghost touch for some reason or was he so enraged by two teenagers that he forgot his natural weapons and started chucking furniture at them

[littlemochix17]

Chapter 8

Words: 11.1K

*A bit longer than the other chapters

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚3𝑟𝑑 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛'𝑠 𝑃𝑂𝑉˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

BOOM!

They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake

"Where's the cannon?" he said stupidly

There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding

into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands now

they knew what had been in the long, thin package he had brought

with them

"Who's there?" he shouted

"I warn you I'm armed!"

There was a pause. Then — SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its

hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost

completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild,

tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black

beetles under all the hair

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his

head just brushed the ceiling.

He bent down, picked up the door,

and fitted it easily back into its frame

The noise of the storm outside

dropped a little. He turned to look at them all

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey. . . ."

He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear

"Budge up, yeh great lump," said the stranger

Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was

crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon

"An' here's Harry!" said the giant.

Harry looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that

the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," said the giant.

"Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mom's eyes."

Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir!" he said.

"You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," said the giant as he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon's hands,

bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room.

Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being

trodden on.

"Anyway Harry," said the giant turning his back on the

Dursleys

"a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat, he pulled a slightly squashed box.

Harry opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Harry written on it in green icing.

Harry looked up at the giant. He meant to say thank you, but

the words got lost on the way to his mouth, and what he said instead

was

"Who are you?"

The giant chuckled.

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry's whole arm.

"What about that tea then, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands together.

"I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shrivelled chip bags in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Harry felt the warmth wash over him as though he'd sunk into a hot bath.

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little.

Uncle Vernon said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you,

Dudley."

The giant chuckled darkly.

"Yer great puddin' of a son don' need fattenin' anymore, Dursley,

don' worry."

He passed the sausages to Harry, who was so hungry he had never tasted anything so wonderful other than (Y/n)'s cooking, but he still couldn't take his eyes off the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything he said

"I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back

of his hand

"Call me Hagrid," he said

"Everyone does. An' like I told yeh,

I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts yeh'll know all about Hogwarts,

o' course."

"Er- no," said Harry.

Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly.

"Sorry?" barked Hagrid

Turned to stare at the Dursleys who shrank back into the shadows

"It's them as should be sorry! I knew

yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even

know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder

where yer parents learned it all?"

"All what?" asked Harry

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered

"Now wait jus' one second!"

He had leapt to his feet. In his anger, he seemed to fill the whole

hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the Dursleys

"That this boy. this boy! knows nothin' abou'-about ANYTHING?"

Harry thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school, after all, and his marks weren't bad.

"I know some things," he said

"I can, you know do math and

stuff."

But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said

"About our world I mean. Your world. My world. Yer parents' world."

"What world?"

Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.

"DURSLEY!" he boomed.

Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble."

Hagrid stared wildly at Harry.

"But yeh must know about yer mom and dad," he said

"I mean, they're famous. You're famous."

"What? My- my mom and dad weren't famous, were they?"

"Yeh don' know... yeh don' know..."

Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Harry with a bewildered stare.

"Yeh don' know what yeh are?" he said finally.

Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice.

"Stop!" he commanded.

"Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!"

A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under

the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his

every syllable trembled with rage.

"You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from him all these years?"

"Kept what from me?" said Harry eagerly.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic.

Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.

"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid.

"Harry yer a wizard"

There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling

wind could be heard

"I'm a what?" gasped Harry.

"A wizard, o' course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa which groaned and sank even lower

"an' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."

Harry stretched out his hand at last to take the yellowish envelope,

addressed in emerald green to Mr. H. Potter, The Floor, Huton-the-Rock,

The Sea. He pulled out the letter and

Questions exploded inside Harry's head like fireworks and he couldn't decide which to ask first.

After a few minutes, he stammered

"What does it mean, they await my owl?"

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl ( a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl ) a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth, he scribbled

a note that Harry could read upside down:

Dear Professor Dumbledore, Given Harry his letter. Taking him to buy his things tomorrow. Weather's horrible. Hope you're well. Hagrid

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm.

Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as

talking on the telephone.

Harry realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly.

"Where was I?" said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon,

still ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight.

"He's not going," he said.

Hagrid grunted.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him," he said.

"A what?" said Harry, interested

"A Muggle," said Hagrid

"It's what we call nonmagic folk like

them. An' it's your bad luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest

Muggles I ever laid eyes on."

"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish,"

said Uncle Vernon

"swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"

"You knew?" said Harry.

"You knew I'm a- a wizard?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly.

"Knew! Of course, we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that- that school and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only

one who saw her for what she was a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It

seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married

and had you, and of course, I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as- as abnormal and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

Harry had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice he

said

"Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid

jumping up so angrily that the

Dursleys scuttled back to their corner

"How could a car crash kill

Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not

knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his

name!"

"But why? What happened?" Harry asked urgently.

The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious.

"I never expected this," he said in a low, worried voice.

"I had no idea when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin'

hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Harry, I don' know if

I'm the right person ter tell yeh but someone's gotta yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it..."

He sat down stared into the fire for a few seconds and then said

"It begins, I suppose, with a person called but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows-"

"Who?"

"Well- I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?"

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went... bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was..."

Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

"Could you write it down?" Harry suggested.

"Nah- can't spell it. All right Voldemort."

Hagrid shuddered.

"Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches... terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway"

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em... maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, that he turned up in the village where you were all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You were just a year old. He came ter yer house an'- an'- "

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief

and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said.

"But it's that sad knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find anyway...You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh — took care of yer mum an' dad

an' yer house, even — but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer

famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no

one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."

Something very painful was going on in Harry's mind.

As Hagrid's story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than he had ever remembered it before and

he remembered something else, for the first time in his life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Hagrid was watching him sadly.

"Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders.

Brought yeh ter this lot..."

"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon.

Harry jumped; he had almost forgotten that the Dursleys were there.

Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagridand his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, boy," he snarled

"I accept there's something

strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured  and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end-"

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered

pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said

"I'm warning you, Dursley. I'm

warning you. one more word..."

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better" said Hagrid breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor.

Harry, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them.

"But what happened to Vol-, sorry- I mean, You-Know-Who?"

"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see... he was gettin' more an' more powerful — why'd he go?"

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back"

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on — I dunno what it was, no one does but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looked at Harry with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes but Harry instead of feeling pleased and proud felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A wizard? Him? How could he possibly be? He'd spent his life being clouted by Dudley, bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; and then being comforted by (Y/n) if he was really a wizard, why hadn't they been turned into warty toads every time they'd tried to lock him in his cupboard? That would have saved all the trouble he thought he caused to his friend who always took care of him if they starved him or if Dudley beat him up If he'd once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world how come Dudley had always been able to kick him around like a football?

"Hagrid," he said quietly

"I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard."

To his surprise, Hagrid chuckled.

"Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was

scared or angry?"

Harry looked into the fire. Now he came to think about it... every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Harry, had been upset or angry... chased by Dudley's gang, he had somehow found himself out of

their reach... dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut,

he'd managed to make it grow back... and the very last time

Dudley had hit him, hadn't he gotten his revenge, without even realizing

he was doing it? Hadn't he set a boa constrictor on him?

Harry looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was

positively beaming at him.

"See?" said Hagrid.

"Harry Potter, not a wizard you wait,

you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight.

"Haven't I told you he's not going?" he hissed.

"He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish spell books and wands

and-"

"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," growled Hagrid.

"Stop Lily an' James Potter's son goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name's been down ever since he was born. He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled-"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL

TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and

whirled it over his head,

"NEVER." he thundered, "INSULT. ALBUS. DUMBLEDORE. IN. FRONT.

OF. ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers.

Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully

"but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much-left ter do."

He cast a sideways look at Harry under his bushy eyebrows.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said.

"I'm er- not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job"

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry.

"Oh, well- I was at Hogwarts meself but I er- got expelled,

ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?"

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly.

"Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry.

"You can kip under that," he said.

"Don' mind if it wriggles a

bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets"

Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight

"It was a dream," he told himself firmly

"I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I'll be at home in my cupboard waiting for (Y/n) to visit and take me away from the Dursley's"

There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.

And there's Aunt Petunia knocking on the door, Harry thought, his heart sinking.

But he still didn't open his eyes. It had been such a good dream.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"All right," Harry mumbled

"I'm getting up."

He sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full

of sunlight, the storm was over, and Hagrid himself was asleep on the

collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window,

a newspaper held in its beak.

Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large

balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window

and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper

on top of Hagrid, who didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered

onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat.

"Don't do that."

Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its

beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat.

"Hagrid!" said Harry loudly. "There's an owl-"

"Pay him," Hagrid grunted into the sofa.

"What?"

"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets."

Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets- bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags . . . finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins.

"Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily.

"Knuts?"

"The little bronze ones."

Harry counted out five little bronze coins, and the owl held out his leg so Harry could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through the open window.

Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.

"Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."

Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them.

He had just thought of something that made him feel as though

the happy balloon inside him had got a puncture.

"Um — Hagrid?"

"Mm?" said Hagrid who was pulling on his huge boots.

"I haven't got any money — and you heard Uncle Vernon last night . . . he won't pay for me to go and learn magic."

"Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head.

"D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"

"But if their house was destroyed —"

"They didn' keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold — an' I wouldn' say no teh a bit o' yer birthday cake, neither."

"Wizards have banks?"

"Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."

Harry dropped the bit of sausage he was holding.

"Goblins?"

"Yeah — so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Harry. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe — 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid drew himself up proudly

"He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you gettin' things from Gringotts knows he can trust me, see"

"Got everythin'? Come on, then."

Harry followed Hagrid out onto the rock. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Uncle Vernon had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm.

"How did you get here?" Harry asked, looking around for another

boat.

"Flew," said Hagrid.

"Flew?"

"Yeah — but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."

They settled down in the boat, Harry still staring at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying.

"Seems a shame ter row, though," said Hagrid, giving Harry another

of his sideways looks.

"If I was ter- er- speed things up a

bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"

"Of course not," said Harry, eager to see more magic.

Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of

the boat, and they sped off toward land

"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Harry

asked.

"Spells — enchantments," said Hagrid unfolding his newspaper

as he spoke.

"They say there's dragons guardin' the high-security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way Gringotts is

hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground.

Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."

Harry sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper,

the Daily Prophet. Harry had learned from Uncle Vernon that people liked to be left alone while they did this, but it was very difficult, he'd never had so many questions in his life.

"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered,

turning the page.

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Harry asked before he could

stop himself.

" 'Course," said Hagrid.

"They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius

Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."

"But what does a Ministry of Magic do?"

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's

still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."

"Why?"

"Why? Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."

At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbour wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street.

Passersby stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station. Harry couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, but he also kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly

"See that, Harry? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"

"Hagrid," said Harry, panting a bit as he ran to keep up

"did you say there are dragons at Gringotts?"

"Well, so they say," said Hagrid.

"Crikey, I'd like a dragon."

"You'd like one?"

"Wanted one ever since I was a kid here we go."

They had reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Hagrid, who didn't understand "Muggle money," as he called it, gave the bills to Harry so he could buy their tickets.

People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent.

"Still got yer letter, Harry?" he asked as he counted stitches.

Harry took the parchment envelope out of his pocket.

"Good," said Hagrid.

"There's a list there of everything yeh need."

Harry unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn't noticed the night before and read:

"Can we buy all this in London?" Harry wondered aloud.

"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.

Harry had never been to London before. Although Hagrid seemed

to know where he was going, he was obviously not used to getting

there in an ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the

Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small

and the trains are too slow.

"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said

as they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops.

Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily all Harry had to do was keep close behind him. They passed bookshops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. Could there really be piles of wizard gold buried miles beneath them? Were there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks? Might this not all be some huge joke that the Dursleys had cooked up? If Harry hadn't known that the Dursleys had no sense of humour, he might have thought so; yet somehow, even though everything Hagrid had told him so far was unbelievable, Harry couldn't help trusting him.

"This is it," said Hagrid coming to a halt

"the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Harry wouldn't have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big bookshop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only he and Hagrid could see it. Before he could mention this, Hagrid had steered him inside.

 

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying,

"The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid clapping

his great hand on Harry's shoulder and making Harry's knees buckle.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at Harry

"is this- can this be- ?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender

"Harry Potter... what an honour."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."

Harry didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at him.

The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming.

Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment,

Harry found himself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky

Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Mr Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name Dedalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before!" said Harry, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement.

"You bowed to me once in a shop."

"He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone.

"Did you hear that? He remembers me!"

Harry shook hands again and again — Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of

his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid.

"Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell grasping Harry's hand

"c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell as though he'd rather not think about it.

"N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously.

"You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the

very thought.

But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Harry to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.

"Must get on lots ter buy. Come on, Harry."

Doris Crockford shook Harry's hand one last time, and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small walled courtyard where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

Hagrid grinned at Harry.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

"Is he always that nervous?"

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was" shaking his head as they passed, saying

"Dragon liver, sixteen Sickles an ounce, they're mad"

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and

Snowy. Several boys of about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it.

"Look," Harry heard one of them say

"the new Nimbus Two Thousand fastest ever"

There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had never seen before, windows stacked

with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon. . . .

"Gringotts," said Hagrid.

They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the

other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors,

wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was

"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him.

The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry. He had a swarthy, clever face a pointed beard and Harry noticed very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked

inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this

time, with words engraved upon them:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take but do not earn

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

"Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers weighing coins in brass scales examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid and Harry made for the counter.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin

"We've come ter take some money outta Mr Harry Potter's safe."

"You have his key, sir?"

"Got it here somewhere" said Hagrid and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblins book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Harry watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.

"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key.

The goblin looked at it closely.

"That seems to be in order."

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest.

"It's about the YouKnow-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin read the letter carefully.

"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid

"I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin.

Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he and Harry followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked.

"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously.

"Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."

Griphook held the door open for them. Harry, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in (Hagrid with some difficulty) and

were off.

At first, they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages.

Harry tried to remember left right right left middle fork right left but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way because Griphook wasn't steering.

Harry's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept them wide open. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

"I never know," Harry called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart

"what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid

"An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick."

He did look very green and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out and as it cleared Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

All Harry's was incredible. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than blinking.

How often had they complained about how much Harry cost them to keep? And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to him, buried deep under London. Hagrid helped Harry pile some of it into a bag.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained.

"Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." He turned to Griphook.

"Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," said Griphook.

They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled around tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine and Harry leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck. Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.

"Stand back," said Griphook

He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked

through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.

"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin.

Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Harry was sure, and he leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least but at first, he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was but knew better than to ask.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the

way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.

One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside

Gringotts. Harry didn't know where to run first now that he had a bag full of money. He didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that he was holding more money than he'd had in his whole life more money than even Dudley had ever had.

"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"Listen, Harry, would

yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron?

I hate them Gringotts carts."

He still looked a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said

when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the boy

"Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy.

He had a bored, drawling

voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.

"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Harry.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

"I do Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin well except I don't know about my cousin thought her father was a Gryffindor not that I really saw any of them but all our family have been in Slytherin imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said Harry wishing he could say something a bit more interesting.

"I er- think your cousin would be a great witch even if she gets into Gryffindor" said Harry trying to engage a bit more in the conversation but what he didn't expect was the sneer that he gave him

"Gryffindors are nothing but fools that's what my father always says if she gets sorted into Gryffindor she is a disgrace might as well get her kicked out of the family" the boy said

Harry was surprised by his answer and felt the need to defend the girl though he didn't know what he was talking about

"Why kicking her out of the family for not being a Slytherin that's not right" he argued but the other didn't do anything other than roll his eyes until his eyes picked someone standing in front of the shop's window

"Whatever, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly nodding toward the front window.

Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't

"He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. He liked the boy less and less every second.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage who lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly.

"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer.

"Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all.

"But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said

"That's you done, my dear,"

And Harry not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.

Harry was rather quiet as he ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought him (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).

"What's up?" said Hagrid.

"Nothing," Harry lied.

They stopped to buy parchment and

quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed colour as you wrote. When they had left the shop, he said,

"Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"

"Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know not knowin' about Quidditch!"

"Don't make me feel worse," said Harry.

He told Hagrid about

the pale boy in Madam Malkin's.

"-and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be

allowed in-"

"Yer not from a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh wewere he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"

"So what is Quidditch?"

"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like  like soccer in the Muggle world everyone follows Quidditch played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls sorta hard ter explain the rules."

"And what are Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor?"

"School Houses. There are four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot

o' duffers, but-"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Harry gloomily.

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly.

"There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."

"Vol-, sorry — You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?"

"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.

They bought Harry's school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these.

Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Countercurses(Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

"I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley."

"I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Hagrid.

"An' anyway, yeh couldn' work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level."

Hagrid wouldn't let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either ("It says pewter on yer list"), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop). Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked Harry's list again.

"Just yer wand left oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."

Harry felt himself go red he isn't used to people giving him birthday presents except for (Y/n)

"You don't have to-"

"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."

Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. He couldn't stop stammering

his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell.

"Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly.

"Don' expect you've had a lotta presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivanders left now only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."

A magic wand... this was what Harry had been really looking

forward to.

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382b.c. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped.

Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man.

"Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you

soon. Harry Potter. Ever since the day Miss (L/n) came here yesterday I knew you were near to come" It wasn't a question.

Harry's eyes widen as he seems to remember something has been off his mind. (Y/n)! Of course, how could he forget that you got the same-looking letter as him? He has been too caught up in fighting with his aunt and uncle and all the wizarding things that he forgot that he hadn't seen you the last few days but now he is kinda relieved that he won't be going to a whole new world without the one he cherishes the most

"Guess I forgot ter tell yeh 'bout tha' "

he heard Hagrid mutter to himself from behind him but before he could turn to say anything his attention was taken again by the old man in front of him

"You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long swishy, and made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

"Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and is excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost

nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where..."

Mr Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead

with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly.

"Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Hagrid.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.

"Er- yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet.

"I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.

"But you don't use them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.

"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly.

Harry noticed he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke.

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look.

"Well, now Mr. Potter. Let me see."

He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket.

"Which is your wand

arm?"

"Er- well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder

to finger then wrist to elbow shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a

heap on the floor.

"Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try"

Harry tried but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere I wonder, now yes, why not unusual combination holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light onto the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried

"Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..."

He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering

"Curious... curious..."

"Sorry," said Harry

"but what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand gave another feather just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harry swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things terrible yes but great."

Harry shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. He paid seven gold Galleons for his wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Harry and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. Harry didn't speak at all as they walked down the road; he didn't even notice how much people were gawking at them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped packages, with the snowy owl asleep in its cage on Harry's lap. Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; Harry only realized where they were when Hagrid tapped him on the shoulder.

"Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves," he said.

He bought Harry a hamburger and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them. Harry kept looking around. Everything looked so strange somehow

"You all right, Harry? Yer very quiet," said Hagrid.

Harry wasn't sure he could explain. He'd just had one the best birthdays he had in his life other than the first one he celebrated with (Y/n) and yet he chewed his hamburger, trying to

find the words.

"Everyone thinks I'm special," he said at last.

"All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr.Ollivander... but I don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I'm famous and I can't even remember what I'm famous for. I don't know what happened when Vol-, sorry- I mean, the night my parents died."

Hagrid leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile.

"Don' you worry, Harry. You'll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. Just be yerself.I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts I did still do, 'smatter of fact."

Hagrid helped Harry onto the train that would take him back to the Dursleys, then handed him an envelope.

"Yer ticket fer Hogwarts," he said. "First o' September King's Cross it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with yer owl, she'll know where to find me... See yeh soon, Harry."

The train pulled out of the station. Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against the window, but he blinked and Hagrid had gone.

With (Y/n) the morning Hagrid took Harry to get his school equipments

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* (𝑌/𝑛)'𝑠 𝑃𝑂𝑉˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

The next morning I woke up and did all my chores and made breakfast for the three of us and as always we sat in silence I was starting to get used to it today Cedric couldn't come to the park so I was stuck at home but lucky my grandma will take Freya somewhere today leaving me alone to relax without her yelling at me all the time. I am going to go next door to check if the Dursleys came back with Harry or not I was getting more and more worried

"could it be that they to a trip to some orphanage far away so when they drop him there he won't come back no? (Y/n) stay positive they won't do that right?" I thought as I heard the front door close signalling that my Grandma and Freya were finally out of the house.

After I finished the dishes I dried my hands on the small kitchen towel and made my way to the window seeing my Grandma's car taking off I got up and ran to the basement to feed Nitor and my owl whom I didn't name yet because I was still thinking of a name and got out of the house but just as I was opening the door up I saw a woman was about to knock on the door

I took a minute to take in her futures she was a black woman who had beautifully long curly hair she looked in her early 30s and she smiled at me but I saw sadness in her eyes as it glossed up and she looked like she was holding her tears

"Um, may I help you miss? You look quite sad" I said nervously trying not to work her up

She took a deep breath and looked at me again

"Yes. Yes you may help me" she said

"I am Eleanor Gonzales the staff member who's supposed to take you to Hogwarts"

"But Miss Gonzales I still have a month until the journey to Hogwarts," I said knitting my eyebrows at the older woman as she smiled brightly

"Please call me Leonora and I know you don't know me but I wa-i am a friend of your mother," she said softly

I looked at her with wide eyes and my heart was beating so fast trying to hide my excitement and looked at the woman again with a big bright smile

"Alright come on in Leonora" I said but she shook her head and I saw a smirk forming on her face

"I was actually thinking that I would steal you away from here for a bit since that old woman isn't here to ruin our plans"

"Plans?" I asked tilting my head slightly

"Yup plans"

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚3𝑟𝑑 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠����𝑛𝑃𝑂𝑉˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Eleanor took the (H/c) girl out of the house making their way to an amusement park that the little girl hadn't gotten the chance to get into before then the older of the two started talking

"After I heard that Dumbledore took you to Diagon Ally yesterday I couldn't wait to come and see you myself so I booked the next train to London from Hogwarts"

"You said you worked there right? What do you do at Hogwarts? Are you a professor?" Asked the little girl

Eleanor laughed at the girl's curious questions but still answered

"I am not a professor there but I work at the hospital wing with Madam Poppy"

"Poppy who names their kid poppy that sounds like a name I would give to a teddy bear" commented the little girl then both of them giggled at her own words

"You know you look a lot like your mother we were both in the same year and house at Hogwarts she was the first friend I had after I transferred in the middle of the first year," the brunette said as they got near the amusement park

"H-how was my mum like?" Asked the youngest out of the two nervously she didn't know what to ask about her mother even if she was quite excited at first

"Your mother was a wonderful witch and a seer she was the best of the best. Always kind and understanding even tho she was a pain in the arse with her none stop witty sarcastic remakes" she answered and then looked down to the younger girl

"And when I look at you I see nothing but the younger version of your mother" With that the little girl smiled

Feeling the warmth of happiness hearing those words felt like a warm hug she always wondered what was her parents like even before she knew that she was adopted she didn't really remember her adopted parents so it didn't really feel different when she discovered that she was adopted she can't remember any of her biological or adopted parents because all of are dead except for her father who's in jail or that's what's her Grandma says

"Do you want to play first or should we eat?" asked the older woman as they entered the amusement park smiling at her friend's daughter

It was now a bit late after spending the day together laughing, talking and eating both of the females got to know each other a bit more and now both of them were making their way back to (Y/n) house whose Grandma surprisingly didn't come back yet from wherever she took her cousin and go but the girl didn't care anymore she even forgot completely about checking if Harry and the other came back or not but she tells herself it's fine she will check tomorrow. She really hoped they come back soon she needed to tell Harry about Eleanor and Dumbledore and maybe next time Leonora comes as she told her she would she would ask if Harry could go out with them so she could introduce both of them to each other. But right all she wants is sleep she was so tired and needed to feed her pets before going to bed so she did so and got the bathroom to get ready for bed after she finished she went off to her room to get some sleep

Sherri Michelle Saum as Older Eleanor Gonzales

[kitty-is-writing]

Kitty's Pride Month short #9!

This story focuses on Oliver, the reigning King of Oakshire as he, his lover, his wife and the bio dad of their children try to explain things to the kids through the lens of their own awkwardness.

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

This wasn’t good. Both little ones looked as though they were about to cry already, and they had only just sat down. Oliver had not been looking forward to this discussion, and had almost hoped it would never come up, but of course it had to. Things like this couldn’t be kept secret forever.

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” Sam said, trying to calm the children. He sat on the floor beside the sofa the kids were on, close enough to reassure them but far enough from Nicola that it wouldn’t look inappropriate to any observers.

“We just wanted to talk to you about some things you might hear from other people,” Nicola started to explain, looking to Oliver for some support.

He in turn looked over to the door, where Zach stood rather awkwardly. At least they had given Bethany, the older of the two, a basic idea of where babies came from before this. No graphic details, obviously, since she was only six, but she had grasped that mummy and daddy made babies when they loved each other very much. “You see, daddy can’t actually have babies.” They had decided between themselves that would be the easiest way to explain it to the kids for now. “I love mummy very much, but there’s something different about my bits that won’t let me make a baby with mummy.”

“Like when my dolly broke?” Bethany asked. “Can’t you get a new bit like we did for Susy?”

Nicola laughed quietly. “It’s not that easy for people. We’re stuck with the bits we’re born with, usually.”

There was a slight pause, where the adults looked at each other uncomfortably and the two children made confused faces. “See, what usually happens is that mummy and daddy have a bit each, and those bits fit together to make a baby,” Sam said, stepping in since nobody else seemed to know how. “Sometimes, though, a daddy has a bit that doesn’t want to fit with a mummy bit, or the other way around, and that’s what’s happened here. So, your mummy kind of borrowed my bit instead, because she and daddy wanted you both so much, but their bits wouldn’t fit together.”

David’s face lit up with understanding. “Like my blocks! The squares won’t fit with the triangles,” he said, simplifying things the way only a four year old could.

“Er, kind of?” Sam threw a helpless sort of look at the other three.

Nicola tapped her finger against her lips. “Maybe it’s a bit more like your jigsaw puzzles. You know how most of the pieces have two outie bits and two innie bits, and they can all fit together even when the picture doesn’t match, but sometimes you get a funny shaped bit that’s all outies or all innies, or even just a wiggly side? Those have got to go with certain other pieces, right?”

The two children nodded. “So, daddy’s like a wiggly piece? And he doesn’t fit properly with you even though he loves you lots?”

That was probably the closest they were going to get without explaining in more detail than any of the adults were ready for. “That’s right. I love mummy, and both of you, I’m just a bit too wiggly to fit quite right,” Oliver said.

“I love you too Daddy. Even if you’re all wiggly,” Bethany said, sliding off the seat to scramble into his lap instead.

David toddled over to join them. “I love wiggly Daddy too!”

Oliver hugged both of them tight, catching Zach’s eye over their heads. He tried not to laugh at his lover’s expression, or the thought that he had just gained a new nickname. The two children had accepted it so easily, despite the rather jumbled explanation, and they quickly jumped down to go back to their game, which the grown-ups had rudely interrupted.

“That went better than I expected,” Nicola said once the kids had scampered into the next room to play.

“They’re young enough that normal is whatever surrounds them,” Zach said. “They haven’t had the chance to pick up on anyone else’s biases yet. Let’s hope they can keep that innocent acceptance as they get older.”

“I’ve always thought the problem is how awkward we make all this,” Sam said quietly. “Children see things so simply, it’s only when us adults filter it all through our own discomfort that they start getting confused.”

Nicola smiled. “You might be right there. We’ve been so conditioned to keep quiet about things like this, it’s hard to find the words when we do need to talk. Maybe we should have asked Christina to join us,” she said. “She doesn’t seem to have trouble with any of it, I suppose because her society is so much more accepting than ours. One of the acolytes she worked with at the temple was born a boy, she told me, and has been living as a woman for years now. They have herbal treatments and things for people in that kind of situation, apparently, and most everyone is completely fine with it.”

The others were quiet for a few moments, thinking over things. “I wonder what that’s like? Living somewhere so open about things like this?” Sam asked. Of the four in the room, he was the one closest to what Oakshire’s society deemed ‘normal’. He was also the one most comfortable with the relationships between all of them.

“Ask anyone from the Islands, or apparently Slokos. From what we’ve heard in recent years, everywhere is more open about this stuff than our country,” Oliver groused. Listening to people talk about how freely people like him could live in other nations had given him some weird, almost jealous feelings he didn’t know how to process. While others might be able to emigrate to one of those other countries and live their lives in the open, he was trapped in an increasingly backwards society.

Zach cleared his throat quietly. “You are in a position to change that, if you’re willing. More people than us would benefit from Oakshire becoming more accepting.”

The room felt a little too quiet for a moment, all of them giving Oliver sideways glances. He wasn’t stupid, he knew both Zach and Nicola were getting involved in Alicia’s ‘upend the system’ movement and all the other changes brewing in its wake. Ideally, he knew he should be standing with them and enacting at least some of the reforms they were calling for, but doing so would mean facing things he had spent his entire life trying to bury, and he was not ready for that.

Still, he had been taught that a good King should do what was best for his country and his people, even if that meant putting his own comfort aside. That had been his father’s biggest failing in the last years of his reign, and Oliver had long since sworn he would not make the same mistake. “I… I’ll think about it. Relaxing the laws certainly wouldn’t hurt in the short term.”

Nicola leant over, patting his knee gently. “Nobody’s expecting massive changes at once, Oli. Things take time, and you’re not alone. If you want it to seem less personal, you don’t have to tell anyone about yourself. A simple ‘we are listening to public opinion’ would be fine.”

Oliver nodded slightly, lost in his own conflicting thoughts. Twenty years ago he would have given anything for an opportunity like this, to be accepted and loved as who he was rather than forcing himself to fit into the mould his father had pushed him into. After so long spent crafting his public face, though, so many years of being the good, normal husband and King everyone expected him to be, would turning all of that upside down be worth the risk?

He was, if not exactly happy, at least comfortable with things as they were, and until recently had thought Zach and Nicola were too. If they were willing to do this, though, to stand up and support change even if they didn’t expose themselves while doing so, perhaps they weren’t as at ease as he’d imagined. Hiding his feelings was safe, was how he had managed to avoid disdain and ridicule his entire life, but… maybe being safe and comfortable wasn’t good enough anymore. Maybe it was time to change things, for the sake of others if nothing else.

[pheita]

A congress, a playful cover, and an accidental epiphany Part 10

Befitting the end of the year, the end of this mini-fic. I kept it short for once, yeah! And with this, I wish everyone a happy new year. May 2023 be nicer, gentle, filled with laughter, and more successful for all of us. Don't forget the Masterlis for Tali and Constantine over here and the masterlist for my WIP "Flowers of Fire" which will take place 6 years later (counting from the first meeting of these two idiots) In the new year, there will also be a WIP blog coming. Warning: NSFW for talk about sex, sexual fantasie, female masturbation

@stormbrightwriter @catharticallysarcastic @kainablue @bloodlessheirbyjacques @chris-the-dragonslayer @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables @ashen-crest @zmwrites @magic-is-something-we-create @incandescent-creativity @pen-for-sword @violetcancerian @poore-choice-of-words @contes-de-rheio @queerlilchinchin Of course, the taglist is always open for new folks, and always let me know if you want to be taken off.

"Shit, Toni, you look like a Minotaur had you in his grasp." The wide joyful grin on Gregori's face disappeared the moment he opened the door and saw Constantine. "That sums up my emotional state very well." "Come in and let your little brother take care of you. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes." With a wordless nod, Constantine entered and fell heavily into the small sofa. Closing his eyes, he let his head slump back and exhaled loudly. The clanging from the kitchen made him at least open his eyes again. Gregori arrived with two shot glasses and a bottle of ouzo. Before Constantine could say anything, he had a full glass in his hand. He looked at it skeptically for a moment and then downed it in one gulp. The clear liquor burned in the throat, but exactly that helped to find back to the present for the moment. "Well then, hit me up. How bad was it?" Gregori refilled before sitting down next to him, the bottle still in one hand, his own glass in the other. "The provocation worked a little too well. Melinda completely forgot herself at the final party and went after Tali in her mystical form." "Whoa wait..." Gregori raised his arms defensively and looked at him in horror. "Melinda came at you in full Lilim form?"

"Yeah, that's exactly it. Which I didn't know she had wings, albeit vestigial, until now. She must be straight from the main line." Thoughtfully, Constantine looked into his glass. "That's completely beside the point now, isn't it? She attacked you in the safe haven at a peaceful gathering. Let me guess, the Gargoyles didn't think it was funny." "No, we had to give our statements this morning." "I thought so. Now how did that come up with Tali?" The broad grin on Gregori's face made Constantine want to punch him. Constantine finished the second glass and fixed a spot on the wall opposite. "The plan to pass us off as a couple worked too well, I'd say. After half a day it had become normal for the two of us to hug and kiss on the cheeks repeatedly, making it look like more to bystanders. There was this male nymph who came up to her after Tali's presentation and had some ideas..." "You wanted to wring his neck?" interrupted Gregori, laughing. "Something like that." Constantine looked over at him with the silent question before Gregori knew that. Instead of an answer, Gregori just laughed, slapped him on the thigh, and stood up.

"I'll go check on the food. We don't want it to burn." "That's usually Serena's job," Constantine jokingly threw in. Gregori's dramatic groan said it all. There was a good chance he was thinking of their mother's birthday when Serena and Gregori were little and the two of them had the wonderful idea of baking a cake, which only succeeded because Gregori was there, even though Serena was the older one. "We better banish her from every kitchen out of sheer precaution," echoed the kitchen. "That sounds like a good plan." Gregori looked pleased as he came back and fell back beside Constantine. "Go on, then." "And the food?" "The oven's out, the residual heat will do the rest and keep it warm. I'll wait." Constantine reached for the ouzo and poured himself a refill. "There were always moments when we almost really kissed. Just before Melinda's attack was another one of those moments, and I think if it hadn't been for Melinda..." Gregori grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him close, eyes wide." "You're not fucking serious right now." "I am." "I need stronger stuff." As hastily as Gregori had gotten up, he nearly stumbled into the small table in front of them. He went to the small cabinet where Constantine knew the alcohol was for mixing and behind it, hidden, the stuff from the mystical world. A moment later, a small bottle of whiskey appeared, which looked very much like it came from one of the elven distilleries.

"So Melinda attacked you when you almost kissed, much as if her middle name was Ursula." Constantine responded with a cautionary look at the little reference to The Little Mermaid. "She went after Tali specifically each time, which made sure Tali's unique ability showed itself." "Cool." Briefly, Gregori looked up from the glasses with a grin. "That's not how Tali sees it. It seems like she can control particles of natural origin." "You mean dust." "Yes, I mean dust, but possibly slightly larger. She used it to create a vortex that repelled Melinda." "Respect, your little hyena got it." Constantine grinned proudly as he leaned over to accept the glass of whiskey. "She sure has. She's got that quiet strength, not quick-tempered or loud, but it's just there and only comes out when it's needed, no matter how shy she is otherwise. She's braver than she thinks she is. Instinctively, she knew right away how to use her ability to create a tentacle of sorts to keep Melinda from her final attack." "Damn, I would have loved to have seen that," Gregori laughed out. "It was awesome." "Then when and how did you fool finally realize you loved her?" Again, Constantine's head sank backward onto the back of the sofa. "This morning." "I'm hearing a story." For a moment Constantine considered drinking the whiskey as well, but then decided against it, or he would be drunk before they got to dinner. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled with a heavy sigh. "Last night, she asked me to hold her to fall asleep. I don't know when I fell asleep either, but my subconscious seamlessly started there." A soft chuckle from Gregori told Constantine that his brother had already guessed correctly. "So what?" "I didn't think the dream was real until after I woke up for real." "Nah, nah, nah, wait. You're not skipping that now." Quick as the wind, Gregori stood behind the sofa and stared Constantine head on. "It doesn't matter." "If it provides your enlightenment, then yes." For long seconds, they stared at each other in a battle of wills, until Constantine looked away and drank the whiskey after all. "A sex dream," he muttered hastily, reaching for the whiskey. Gregori stopped him, laughing. "Shit, this just keeps getting better." "Gregori...." With the bottle in his hand, Gregori took a few steps back, still laughing. "Basically, it makes sense. For an elemental, you have a high sex drive, but that a sex dream helps you realize you're in love... Fuck, no one could make that up. That's great. Fuck, no one believes that." Elegantly, Constantine stood up, took the bottle from Gregori and put both hands on his shoulders with a serious look. "This stays between us." Abruptly, Gregori became serious again and nodded. "Sorry, sure. We'll keep that between us. But seriously, how hard in denial must you have been if that's what your subconscious is doing?" "I know."

Gently, Gregori loosened his grip and hugged Constantine. "So, what do you want to do now?" "I was going to talk to her this morning, but then the gargoyles got in the way, and then that nymph, and during the car ride, I didn't want to do it. I didn't want her to feel trapped or anything." "I understand that too well. So, you want to tell her how you feel?" "Even though I don't know how yet, but yes. Somehow I have a feeling she feels the same way." "Just as well, you'll see each other again on Monday," Gregori teased him. Only when he was already on his way to the kitchen did he notice that Constantine had remained silent. "Wait, you'll see each other Monday, right?" "We both have a week off because of the convention." Dramatically, Gregori fell against the wall. "You're killing me. You're telling me you're going to wallow in your misery for a week and make a million plans about how you're going to tell her." Constantine smirked and walked toward him. "Not millions, but some for sure. As well as, I will continue to screen this nymph. He still irritates me." "You're jealous," Gregori squeaked with laughter. "Maybe," Constantine confessed, sniffing at the food, "But a male nymph, old enough to be one of the first, with red-shaded hair and blue eyes and always looking for trouble. I don't trust that." Gregori grew serious and looked at him skeptically. "Yeah, that smells like a Gafferty offspring, and if we're right, Tali should know that." "Especially if he's interfering with her work." Briefly they looked at each other seriously, nodded to each other, and then Gregori grinned again. "So, but now it's time to eat. We have to counter the alcohol." "I beg you," Constantine sighed, but grinned, nonetheless.

Tali was more than grateful that her parents had taken the family to the zoo, so she could unpack in peace before the siblings would besiege her. After the dirty laundry was in the washer, and she had pounced on leftovers that had been saved from the previous day's dinner, she took advantage and took a long bath. Being awake and feeling Constantine's erection had aroused her in a way she couldn't get rid of, and the part about him kissing her while she was half asleep had done the rest. She had only played the sleeping one on him because she didn't know what else to do, but that it ended in him disappearing into the shower in a panic, forgetting to close the door, and her having the perfect view of him jerking off, she couldn't have anticipated that. Just the thought of it turned her on again. A glance at the clock said that the family would be gone for at least another two hours. After a moment's thought, Tali decided she could risk it and dug out her hidden box of dildos. She had to giggle as she thought of how Zoe had dragged her to a sex store three years ago.

Quickly, she had found the dildo she was looking for, pushed the box aside and disappeared into the bathroom. With a sigh, she stepped into the warm water, which smelled delightfully of cherry blossoms, and relaxed a bit. Her thoughts roamed, wandering off to Constantine in the shower that morning. In her imagination, she followed him into the shower to his surprise, kissing him under the stream of water. His hands exploring her body, gently stroking her breasts as he covered her neck with kisses. Those long fingers that found their way between her legs and demanded access, exploring her moist depths as if they were made just for him. His thumb slowly stroking her clit as his fingers slowly penetrated deeper and deeper into her, following her every move, as his other hand massaged her nipple until she orgasmed. In reality, she lay in the tub with the dildo already buried deep inside her, pumping it in and out like a possessed woman while the other hand rubbed her clit. She gasped with effort as one orgasm followed the next, but her body only screamed for more.  After the fifth one Tali forced herself to stop and wash, but as soon as she got out of the tub the urge was too much again and had the dildo inside her again, sitting on the edge of the tub and riding the dildo like a maniac while her hands pinched her nipples until it hurt, but even this orgasm brought no relief.

Physically exhausted, she still managed to wrap herself in a towel and take the dildo back to the room with her before any of the younger siblings saw it. The phone was fortunately on the bed, so she could still reach for it while falling on the bed and write a message to Zoe. "I have a problem. Defcon permanently in heat." It took maybe a minute for Zoe to call. "Tali! Shit, what did you do?" "Constantine..." "I realize that too, sweetie. But how did you manage to get permanently horny in just a few days?" Tali sighed and giggled at the same time. "Apparently I didn't faze him either." "Wait.... Don't tell me he had a hard-on this morning." "More." "You witnessed him...? Oh shit, and that when you've been so into him for half a year and then all the stuff because of his ex and oh shit.... No wonder. Where are the others?" "Zoo..." "Tali?" "Hmm?" "How many times have you?" "I don't know. And my powers have been free since yesterday." "Fuck." The silence that followed was enough for Tali to look skeptically at her phone to see if the connection was still there. "Okay, sweetie, you have vacation next week?" "Yes, I do." "Good, I'm off Wednesday too. I'll pick you up Wednesday, and then you and I will go to a bathhouse. Don't argue with me. You know what happens if you don't." Tali sighed heavily. "I know. There can be serious consequences if you don't." "I would really call your death a serious consequence. Can you make it that long?" "I don't know." "I'll let mom know. I know there's something that will tone it down for now." "Okay. Thanks." "You know the others will pick up on it then, too?" "I know," Tali sighed, too done to worry about that now. "Is there more to it than you seeing Constantine in all his glory?" For a moment Tali wanted to tell about Rafael and how he kind of confused her with his demeanor, how he was clearly interested in her after she had unraveled at noon that it was all an act, but then she let it go. "I'll tell you Wednesday." "All right. You get ready for your mom's onslaught. Love you, take care." "I will. Love you too." Sighing, Tali hung up and curled up. This wasn't how she'd imagined it all working out. Maybe she should have just been brave for once in her life.

[jaybird-redhood]

chapter one ☆ a mutual hatred of sorts

☆ next chapter ☆

series masterlist

add yourself to the taglist!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Jason Todd is a dick, and that’s putting it nicely.

See the thing is it’s impossible not to fall into the Wayne orbit when you’ve gotten as close as you have. They have a way of just pulling you in and not letting go.

In your case a chemistry project, knack for Mario Kart, and apartment perfectly placed in the middle of a certain red and yellow moron’s patrol route led to your spot in the bat’s clan. (And the subsequent need to clear out your closet for the obscene amount of first aid supplies that kept showing up in odd places.)

So, an accidental acquisition of the secret identity of one birdy (which really wasn’t Tim’s fault, sleep deprivation and a worried friend work wonders for uncovering secrets), led to the identities of all the bats, and soon you have the honor of getting fitted with top-of-the-line security in your apartment courtesy of Mr. Batman himself.

However, with the introduction of some of the bats came the introduction of all of them.

Including Jason.

A literal piece of shit.

“You know, he’s actually not that bad when you get to know him,” says Tim, head on the arm of your sofa.

“Yeah, one time I thought he was going to punch me,” Steph chimes in, “but then he like swerved at the last minute and knocked out the dude behind me.”

An almost comical look of contemplation crosses over her face before you can see an even more comical frown.

“He did let me get stabbed by that other dude though,” she says.

“So what, he feels complete indifference? Like that’s really any better?” you ask them. “He’s an asshole to you guys and you let him be because of nostalgia or some shit.”

“He’s actually pretty nice I swear you just have to give him a chance to prove it to you.”

You sit up from where your head was on Steph’s lap to glare at Tim.

“He broke into my apartment last week at like 6 in the morning to steal my last donut that I was saving and flipped me off when I nearly had a heart attack and threw a book at him.”

“His nearest safehouse is like half an hour away and he has 8am classes in the opposite direction on Wednesdays,” Tim tries to justify.

“And to be fair,” Steph throws in, “flipping you off may have been because of the book not because of the throwing.”

“Yeah, if had been like a lamp or something you probably would’ve been in the clear.”

“Ok fine,” you say, “what about the time that you twisted your ankle and he filmed you hobbling back to my apartment in pain instead of helping you.”

Tim rolls his eyes at you.

“It was a twisted ankle! That’s not even that bad I was fine.”

You give him your best glare, though your view is slightly obscured thanks to Steph’s arm on your face.

It seems to pay off though when Tim whines, “Shut up I really was!”

Steph snorts at that comment.

“You texted me saying you were dying.”

“Seriously Timmy? God you’re dramatic,” you chide. “That’s not even the point though, he sent me the video he took of it happening the next day with the caption- and I quote- ‘lol’”

You can hear a chuckle from his end of the couch.

“No! Not funny! He let you suffer and then laughed about it!” you groan, throwing the pillow next to you at him.

“That was the same week that you came to the manor and took the bookmark out of the book he was reading,” Steph points out.

You sit up to face her, blurting, “That was a minor inconvenience at best, and that was revenge for the-”

“And the day after you stole the bookmark you got a hold of his laptop and renamed all his case files to romcom movie titles,” Tim cuts you off.

This time you smack him, and he has the decency to not look offended as he rubs his arm.

“Only because the night before he came into my place and doused my couch in blood!” you shout, arms flailing. “When I woke up I thought someone had been murdered in there! You try cleaning that much blood out of green linen!”

Steph starts stroking your hair, and as patronizing as it is you can’t help but lean slightly into it.

Stupid comforting best friend.

“You know what,” she says, “you’re right. Jason is such an awful person and you’ve been through so much you poor, poor, thing.”

“Shut up with the fucking baby voice I’m too old for this shit,” you moan, slinking down onto the cool floor.

Steph lets out an offended squeal.

“You’re not even that much older than us!”

Tim follows that up with a cough that sounds suspiciously like, “mentally two years younger.”

You take that as your cue, getting up from off the floor to walk to your door and open it.

“All right that’s it out of my apartment jerks,” you say, before being hit with a brutal chorus of ‘we-haven’t-finished-the-movie-yets’.

You’ve learned by now to ignore them, but the way Tim is looking at you like you’ve just murdered his dog is making it hard.

“You’re rich enough that you don’t need to watch it on my Netflix account,” you protest, “go buy the film studio or some shit.”

They stop whining, but with the silence comes a barrage of puppy-dog eyes on Steph’s part.

You sigh, looking up at the ceiling for a considerable moment before pointing at the door. They both begrudgingly stand and pick up their bags, dragging their feet towards the door.

“Highly trained vigilantes my ass,” you say under your breath.

When they are both standing outside your apartment you feel a touch worse about kicking them out.

“You guys know I love hanging out with you,” you say apologetically.

They both frown.

“I have an essay to write that will not get written with the both of you here.”

Then Tim smiles?

He steps back in and says, “What I’m hearing is that one of us can stay! Bye Steph!” and with an unapologetic grin shuts the door in Steph’s face.

You glower at him, opening the door back up again, pushing him out with “Bye Tim”, and closing the door in his face this time.

“I hate you,” comes a muffled shout.

“Hate you more,” you reply.

You stand head against the door until you can no longer hear them clamoring down the stairs.

One last deep breath, you think, before trying to deal with your paper.

When you turn around your eyes widen. You barely have time to register the vaguely familiar figure before your instincts kick in.

And you punch him directly in the face.

Shit.

“Jesus you fuckhead!” Jason yelps, holding his face in one of his hands. “Your first reaction is to nail me in the jaw instead of, I don’t know, screaming or some normal shit!”

A quick once over determines he isn’t injured enough to warrant a scolding from Tim if you’re a little mean. Just a few knife wounds that look pretty shallow.

“Just be glad it was your pretty little jaw,” you smile sweetly. “It’ll be your dick next time you sneaky little bastard.”

He drops his hand from its place on his jaw, pacing scarily close to your couch, and only taking a few steps back towards the kitchen table when you make eye contact.

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks coyly, turning around to face you.

Even a silent reminder to breathe can’t stop you from cursing at him under your breath.

“Of course that’s what you take away from this conversation,” you snark, “not the direct threat.”

“I’m too pretty for threats,” he quips with the worse grin you’ve ever seen.

You scowl at him, picking your laptop off the table and bringing it to the couch to get comfortable.

“The med supplies are where they always are,” you tell him flatly. “Tim brought more by a week ago. Take what you need and leave.”

He flashes you a mock salute and spins around.

“If I see any blood anywhere other than the trashcan,” you shout to him, “I will not hesitate to make that threat reality.”

“I am going to fucking kill you,” he shouts back.

Unfortunately for you armor and several guns strapped to a body readily increases one’s intimidation factor.

You listen for a while at the rustling of fabric and crinkling of sterile bandage wrappers.

It isn’t until you hear his boots clanking and the metallic sound of a grappling hook that you realize he’s on the ledge of your window about to leave.

He’s not wearing his helmet, just a domino, his torso wrapped in white.

Your gaze catches his eyes.

You’re surprised to find them on you.

Tilting your head to the side, you give him a forced smile, and blow a mock kiss at him.

He grimaces immediately, mirrors your fake little smile and catches your kiss, flipping you off in the process.

‘Asshole,’ you think, and watch him swing out your window before opening your file back up.

☆ next chapter ☆

[nervousgardenerkid]

no thoughts, head empty, just making fun of movies with steve!

my aunt is actually a film professor so i’ve watched loads of movies with her professional (tm) critics and have picked up on a few film tricks myself so i think it’d be fun to watch a movie with steve and just be ranting about how terrible it is and what they should’ve done instead and steve just looking at you like you’re the smartest person in the world and hanging onto your every word.

bonus points if you guys aren’t together and robin’s just there like “you guys aren’t dating so why do i feel like a third wheel?”

Rotten Tomatoes

a/n: okay,,ngl i actually like this more than i thought i would😭 there's LOTS of dialogue but i think it's bc i'm naturally chatty so i made them chatty LMAO i hope you enjoy it! credit to the gif owner <3

Steve let out a loud booooo, as the credits for breakfast club began to roll.

“Steve shut up! It was a good movie!”

Robin nodded her head and then turned her attention towards you.

“I can't believe this is your first time watching it.”

“First and last time, I'm never going to let them sit through a movie that cheesy ever again.”

You rolled your eyes and threw popcorn at Steve causing him to mumble out hey and then eat it.

“I thought it was a good movie!”

Robin leaned back into the sofa and propped her feet on your legs.

“The group therapy scene always gets me.”

You popped a piece of candy in your mouth and smiled at her.

“Molly Ringwald is an artist.”

“I've seen better,” Steve said while throwing an arm around you.

“Ferris Buller’s day off isn't better than this! This is a classic!”

You leaned into Steve and watched in amusement as he and Robin bickered back and forth over which movie was better.

“Whatever, the whole thing is totally unreal.”

Robin let out a laugh. “Oh please, you know damn well it's the realest movie there is! Y/n, back me up here!”

You let out a sigh and looked up at Steve.

“Sorry Stevie, but I'm with Robin on this one.”

“Ha!” Robin said while throwing her hands up in victory.

“Well, we all stayed friends, right? I mean like after we saved the world. We didn't drift apart or anything, if anything we got closer!”

“Saving the world is different from detention, Steve.”

Steve‘s fingers interlocked with yours and he pulled you closer to him.

“Yeah well, I’d still stay friends with you guys.”

“No Steve,” robin started. “We’re friends. You and y/n are in love, you're both just too blind to see it.”

You felt your face get warm and Steve's body tense. You and Steve both knew you had feelings for each other, hell you both talked about it at one point. The fear of pain and rejection was strong though, it led to dates being just hangouts with your friends.

“What are you talking about?” you nervously laughed out.

Robin stood from her spot and shook her head. “Please just confess so I can be a proper third wheel. No more tension, I swear all of Hawkins can feel it.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Steve asked when he saw her walking away from the couch.

“I need to pee, when I come back I expect to see a happy couple.”

You and Steve sat in awkward silence for a while before you spoke up.

“She's right, you know.”

“Yeah, I know she is.”

You sat up and turned your body towards Steve so that you could give him your full attention.

“Would you date me if you were still popular?”

“Are you really trying to breakfast club me right now?” Steve said while laughing.

You shrugged your shoulders and smiled at him. “Maybe.”

“Yeah? Gonna give me your earring too?”

You rolled your eyes. “Funny, you think you're Bender when it's clearly Munson.”

Steve put a hand on his heart. “You wound me, truly you do. Who has great hair like him?”

“Eddie does.”

“Fine then, go date Eddie.”

You shook your head enjoying the teasing you were doing with Steve.

“Would much rather date you, Harrington. Dark and brooding boys aren't my type.”

Steve smiles and raises his eyebrows. “Really? What's your type then?”

You let out a hum and pretend to think about it. “I like the guys who used to rule the school, but now they have to babysit teenagers who need massive ego checks.”

Steve wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in closer.

“I think I know the perfect guy for you.”

“Hey! None of that now!” Robin shouted while jumping back into her spot. “I know I said I wanted to be a proper third wheel but I don't need to see you guys kissing.”

Steve threw some candy at her, but to his dismay, she caught it with her mouth and let out a cheer.

“So what movie is next? And don't say, Ferris Buller’s day off, Steve.”

“ITS REAL CINEMA!”

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Closed Casket.

Commissioned by the very lovely @99shadowcat99.

Pairing: Yandere!Demon Brothers/Reader (Obey Me).

Word Count: 2.4k.

TW: Toxic Relationships, Dehumanization, Codependence, Threats of Violence, Mentions of Death, Implied Imprisonment.

It was a closed-casket funeral.

For such a small detail, it bothered you more than it had any right to. You hadn’t been the one to arrange it, the one to speak to the undertaker and evaluate the damage – that was a responsibility that fell to her fiancé rather than you, a distant cousin, only brought up in conversations about postponed friendships and quickly thinning family trees. You’d done what you could to help, what a last living relative should do to help - paying for flower arrangements, speaking to financial advisors, sorting through her belongs and trying to guess at what might’ve held some sentimental value to someone more present in her life, but you never saw the body. No one ever offered, and you hadn’t known how to ask. She was gone, now, dead and buried, and you'd never gotten to see her, even if everyone who had said that it was probably for the best.

And it probably was. They were probably right. You wouldn’t feel any better, if you had.

And yet, you found it difficult to believe you could feel any worse than you did now, either.

Belphegor was curled around your arm. He had been since you came back from the Human World, slotted against your side, draped over your shoulders, and currently, splayed out on top of you, his face buried in the flesh just above your shoulder blade, his body forcibly tangled with yours in a way that was too awkward to be comfortable for both of you, a sacrifice he seemed more than willing to make on your behalf. You’d tried to shrug him off earlier, when he first decided there was enough space on the smallest loveseat in the common room for his strange, daily ritual, and when that failed, you’d tried to talk him into letting go, into loosening his grip enough for you to slip away when he fell asleep, into relocating to somewhere else, somewhere softer, somewhere with a pillow that could easily replace you when he was too busy tossing and turning to care, but Belphegor had always been so frustratingly picky when it came to where, how, and when he chose to sleep.

He’d chosen you, and he’d chosen like this, and he’d chosen now. There was little you could do to change his mind, after he’d already made it up.

Still, you tried. He wasn’t asleep yet, caught somewhere between permanently half-conscious state and a sleep deep enough to warrant medical concern for most living creatures, supernaturally inclined or otherwise. “Belphie,” You called, gently, pushing the temptation to try more forceful methods into the back of your mind. “Think you pick another spot? Just for today?”

“Can’t.” It was a simple response, his voice heavy with sourceless exhaustion, just as short and just as blunt as it had been the last time you asked. You weren’t sure what you’d expected, honestly. “You were gone. I can’t.”

Your frown deepened. You’d left for a week – nine days, at most. And Belphegor couldn’t have been awake for more than half of that. “That’s not--”

“He was lonely, sweetheart.” It was Asmodeus, this time, as he perched himself on the loveseat’s arm. He wasn’t any better than Belphie, nimble fingertips soon tracing aimless patterns over the side of your neck, the dip of your shoulder, taking up the space he could occupy since the space he’d like to was already in-use. “He’ll get better, in a few days. Once it sinks in that you won't be leaving again.”

You were out of practice. A month ago, you would’ve known better than to respond, than to ask questions to someone who took as much delight in festering doubts as Asmodeus did. A month ago, you would’ve brushed him off and found your way to Purgatory Hall for the rest of the night. But, it wasn’t a month ago, and you were tired. You were still thinking about that casket, and you couldn’t seem to think of much else. “What do you mean?”

“Oh?” There was a pause, a laugh, light and melodic and fluttering. You’d always liked his laugh. You could bring yourself to enjoy it, though, not right now. “No one’s told you, yet?”

“Don’t tease ‘em.” You hadn’t noticed how full the common room had gotten, not until Mammon spoke and you reflexively turned to face the sofa opposite to yours. He was standing, leaning against the back, his hands clasped in a way that’d put his anxiety on display far more transparently than his voice ever could. Beelzebub, too, his arms crossed over his chest as his attention shifted idly between you, the console in Leviathan’s hands, and the book splayed out in Satan's lap, his scowl serving as evidence of his annoyance. It always bothered you, how easily he grew frustrated by situations he chose to put himself in. It bothered you a little more, today. “Might as well spit it out, if you’re going to bring it up,” Mammon went on, shifting his weight, letting his eyes fall to the floor, then rise to the ceiling, then drift back to you. “There’s no point putting it off.”

“Weren’t you supposed to tell them, Mammon?” Beelzebub chimed in, absent-mindedly. If it'd been Satan, if it'd been Lucifer, it would’ve been pointed, malicious, purposeful. Beelzebub just sounded like he was trying to remind his older brother of something he’d forgotten. “You said you should be the one to do it, since you met them first. Then, when Lucifer said you wouldn’t be able to do it, you said that if the human threw a tantrum, you could just--”

“I didn’t say shit.” Mammon cut him off, his tone hostile, but it was a half-hearted anger, more petty than vengeful. “I said I could, not that I would, and Lucifer shot me down. If he hadn’t, there’d already be a deadbolt on every fucking door in the house. We wouldn’t be sitting around, talkin’ about it.”

“Every door?” Beelzebub looked confused. Then, he looked concerned. “I thought we agreed to just seal the exits.”

“I still think we should just use their bedroom,” Leviathan chimed in, never looking up from his hand-held. Something tightened in the back of your throat. Experimentally, you tried to pull yourself out of Belphegor’s arms, but he only held you tighter, and Asmodeus’ nails dug into your shoulder, rooting you back into place without a single word. “It’d be cool, kinda like a permanent save-point. We wouldn’t have to worry about baby-proofing the entire house, either.”

“We could use a leash,” Asmodeus suggested, never breaking his stare. He didn’t look away. You wished he would. You wished they’d, if nothing else, have the courtesy to wait until you’d left the room to start talking about things you didn’t know and didn’t want to know. “So we can make sure they’re always close by! Or, we could have Lucifer enchant a collar – having to hold a tether might get in way when I have to--”

“He’d never do it.” It was the first time Satan had cut in, but it was clear he’d been listening. His book was still open, his expression still concentrated, but he was tapping his foot, the disruption soundless against the thick carpeting, and you couldn’t remember the last time he thought to pretend to turn a page. He was listening, but he didn’t want to be. He was a part of this, but you doubted he’d every say as much out loud. You doubted he’d ever let himself admit he’d stooped to that level. “And if he did, we’d never hear the end of it. In a week, there’d probably be a new kennel in the catacombs, right next to Ceberus’.” He stopped, for a moment, shaking his head. For your own sake, your chose to believe the envy lingering behind his voice was his attempt at a bad joke. “You would prefer a bedroom, wouldn’t you, (Y/n)?”

He asked you a question. He was talking to you, now, directly, which was more than you could say for any of his brothers. It should’ve been an improvement. An opportunity, if nothing else, a chance to ask why Asmodeus was looking at you like that, why you could feel Belphegor’s careless smile pressing into your skin, but you hesitated, something catching in your chest. It felt too solid, too heavy, too rough and too jagged. It felt like it’d hurt to swallow down, later on, once the unease passed and you got over whatever scheme they’d planned out, while you were gone.

“I… What?” You weren’t sure what you wanted to say, but it came out as a question regardless, your reluctance blending messily with your confusion. “This isn’t funny. If you’re going to act like this every time I visit the Human World, I might have to stop coming back.”

Finally, Satan glanced up from his book. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve said he was smiling. “Right. Because you still think you're allowed to leave.”

The rest of the room fell silent. Or, maybe it didn’t, maybe it was louder than it'd ever been. You didn’t know. You couldn't hear anything, not over the sudden ringing in your ears. “I’ll have to, eventually. It’s not up to me.”

Beelzebub shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “It’d be safer if you stayed in the Devildom. We can’t protect you in the Human World.”

Leviathan’s grip tightened around his console. In the background, you could hear the plastic shell start to crack. “We wouldn’t be able to see you. Not all the time. Not for more than a few weeks at a time.” He was quiet, for a moment. Then, he added, “It wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t… It wouldn’t feel like it does when you’re here.”

Mammon looked away, letting his head lull to the side. “You belong here, with us. You’re supposed to be here. We’re just doin’ you a favor. No one wants to watch you figure out how fucked you’d be on your own.”

And, finally, Belphegor groaned, exhaustion heavy in the gravely sound. He untangled himself from you, but the freedom was temporary, fleeting, his arms snaking around your waist, instead, his face soon gracelessly buried in your chest. His eyes flickered open, but barely, just enough to let him stare up at you through his eyelashes, a thoughtless grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He wasn’t divided, not like his brothers were. He didn’t try to pretend he was above holding you against your will. “You're not leaving again.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a threat. It was just a fact, to him. It was something that wouldn’t happen, that couldn’t happen, if only because his older brothers were willing to work so hard to make sure it didn’t. “We’re not gonna share you, anymore. We’re not gonna have to.”

You didn’t want to hear anything else. You didn’t want to be here, anymore, not if this was what it meant, not if it was going to feel like standing in front of that closed casket all over again, the urge to run and sob and scream silencing every reasonable thought you’d ever had. You didn’t bother trying to talk to Asmodeus and Belphegor, you didn’t bother trying to coo and edge and skirt around their anger, their unspoken threats, not anymore, not when your body was already standing on its own, shoving at Belphegor’s body and swatting at Asmodeus’ hand as he reached out, aiming to cup your cheek and tell you so gently to sit down and shut up. Beelzebub leaned forward, Mammon flinched, and you could’ve sworn you caught a row of long, pointed fangs flash across Satan’s sneer, but you didn’t care. You wanted to hit something. You wanted to yell. You’d wanted to ever since you came back to this damned house and its overly affectionate occupants.

“You don’t get to share me.” You couldn’t be shared. You weren’t theirs to share, even if they already seemed geared against the idea. You weren’t theirs to trap, either. You never would be. “I don’t need your protection, and you don’t need to see me, and the only place I’m supposed to be is the Human World. I don’t know what got into your fucked-up heads while I was gone, but you can’t just--”

“Sit down, (Y/n).”

You stopped mid-sentence.

Right. You’d almost forgotten Lucifer hadn't gotten a chance say his piece, yet.

He didn’t give you time to cooperate. There was already a fist curled around the back of your collar, dragging you back into your seat, the action so much more aggressive than Belphegor’s oppressive dead-weight or Amsodeus’ sweet, sickly temptation. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel Lucifer looming over you, standing tall, towering above his younger brothers as he took control of the room. You wondered if he’d been here the entire time, if he’d heard everything, rather than just your sudden outburst. You wondered if you should hope that he had.

“We missed you, while you were gone.” He didn’t sound mad. He didn’t sound mad, but none of them did, none of them sounded like they were plotting to keep you away from your home, your friends, the life you had outside of demons and angels and magic. None of them sounded dangerous, either, save for Lucifer. He’d always been easier to trust when he wasn’t pretending to be kind. “We’ve all been alive for centuries, and yet, you went and made a week feel like a small eternity. Do you know how difficult it is for a human to inflict that kind of suffering onto a demon?”

You didn’t answer. Across the room, Mammon laughed and Satan bristled. Belphegor melted back into your side, more than happy just to have his resting place scared into immobility.

“You’ll stay.” It was an order, this time. Not a suggestion, not a passing concern, but a command, something you would be expected to obey. He had the nerve to use that low, calm cadence, measured and pre-meditated. He didn’t want to let you convince yourself he was as prone to bluffing as his brothers were. “You’ll stay because we want you to. We’re willing to use force, but there’s no need for that. Is there, love?”

You nodded, your body tense and your eyes glassy, and Lucifer rewarded you with a breathy chuckle, a row of knuckles delicately pressed to your cheek. A miserable reward for such an unwilling sacrifice, but Lucifer didn’t seem to mind. It certainly didn’t stop him from leaning in, his lips brushing against the top of your head, his voice falling just low enough to make something sharp and cold shot down your spine, as he went on.

“It’s not like you have anything to go back to, anymore.”

[skinnyducky]

unexpected visits // v.h.

I got this idea from a movie (She's Out of My League). This scene in particular was one that nearly made me piss my pants and I knew I had to write something similar to it. I just really wanted to do something so kooky and funny and I felt this definitely fits that. I categorized this as fluff but idk. N E ways, here it is. Hope y'all enjoy it!

link to part 2

Word Count: 1420, slightly edited

WARNING: sexual themes, heavy make out session, language (once again...I think), mention of alcohol, and a very flustered vinnie

---------

You threw your head back in laughter as Vinnie had cracked another joke. You two had just left your date at BOA Steakhouse and due to the night being so great, you decided to invite Vin back to your apartment to hang out. Granted, you had no intentions of giving him the goods, at least not yet. You didn’t want to rush into that with this relationship. With so many of your previous relationships, you’d give it up and then they’d leave. You didn’t want that with Vinnie. Hell, you at least wanted him to meet your parents before any of that.

“You are a mess,” you giggled, stopping in front of your apartment door.

“Eh, I try to not to be.” He replied, making a funny face.

You rolled your eyes and pulled out your keys. You fumbled a bit before finding the key to your apartment. As you opened the door, you immediately dropped your bag and headed straight for the kitchen.

“You want anything to drink? A soda or water?” You asked, opening your fridge. “I think I may even have a White Claw or two.”

“Just a water’s fine.”

You nodded and grabbed two waters. You watched from behind the kitchen island as he glanced around your apartment, admiring the décor.

“This is a really nice place.” He gasped. “It’s even nicer than-…”

He stopped mid-sentence, staring at the horse of a dog that stood right before him. He gulped and backed away as the male Doberman began to growl at him.

“What the hell is that?” Vinnie asked, holding his hand out in defense.

Giggling, you walked out from behind the counter. “That’s Mac. I’m watching him for a while until my family gets back from Puerto Rico.”

“Oh wow,” Vinnie replied, “he’s got some teeth on him.”

“Yeah, you should sit down. He hates when people stand up; makes him antsy.”

Vinnie wasted no time taking a seat on your sofa. Mac took note of this and laid down. Taking your place on the sofa next to Vinnie, you passed him his water before taking a drink of yours. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, not knowing what to do or talk about. That was until you grew tired of the quietness and decided to make a move. You leaned in close to him and grabbed his chin to make him face you. The two of you stared deep into each other’s eyes, slowly moving in closer until your lips brushed against each other, but before you could get any closer, you pulled back.

“Wait…wait,” you breathed. “I’m really want to, but I don’t wanna move too fast, y’know?”

“No, no…I get it, I totally do.”

“Believe me, I want to so bad, but…I just don’t want you to leave.”

He furrowed his brows. “Wha-…Why would I leave, Y/n?”

“Because everyone else does. Every time I meet someone nice, I get pretty generous and give it up within the first couple of days and then never hear from them again. I just don’t want that with you.” You explained, cradling yourself.

Vinnie sighed, wrapping an arm around you. He gave you a comforting smile and pulled you into his side.

“Y/n, I like you so much, I didn’t even think it was possible to like someone so much. So, regardless of whether or not we do anything, I have no plans on dipping anytime soon. Heck, I tend to be pretty generous too.”

You smirked to yourself. Never once has someone made you feel so secure, so warm inside. You knew Vinnie was definitely the one, and you also knew that you wanted him here and now. Without a thought about, you straddled him—much to his surprise. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before attaching your lips to his. As expected, the kiss was better than you ever could’ve imagined. All you could focus on was how amazing his lips felt against yours. It was like they were sculpted for each other. Not to mention, his were so soft, it made you nearly faint at the slightest touch.

His hands gripped your waist tightly, causing you to whimper in pleasure. Your lips then found their way to his cheek, to his jawline, and then ended at the base of his neck. He groaned and moaned, wrapping his muscular arms around your frame. You continued to nip at his neck, all while steadily grinding in his lap.

“Oh my god,” he breathed against your ear. You mentally smiled at this and kept up with what you were doing.

Poor Vinnie felt helpless against you. Never had been with someone who could make him feel the way he felt with you. It was as if he was merely nothing but putty in your hands. And he like it.

He swallowed a large lump in his throat, feeling himself nearing the edge as you proceeded to roll your hips. He couldn’t help it, he knew the longer you worked your magic, the sooner he would burst.

And that’s exactly what he did.

Though, as he practically creamed his drawers, the doorbell rang. You immediately stopped what you were doing and hopped off of Vinnie. To his dismay, he glanced down at the crotch of his jeans to find a small dark spot. With a groan, he tried rubbing his hand against it, hoping the spot would go away.

You were completely oblivious to what was going on with the boy. You had adjusted yourself and then ran to open the door, revealing none other than your grinning parents.

“Mom, dad!?” You squealed as they pulled you into a hug.

Vinnie nearly lost his shit as he heard those names leave your mouth. What the hell could your parents be doing here, especially at this hour of night. “This can’t get any worse,” he thought to himself.

“I thought you guys weren’t coming back until tomorrow?” You said as you led your parents into your living room.

“Well, we were but your father’s job called, and we had to leave earlier than expected.” Your mom spoke. Her eyes went around the room before landing on Vinnie, who now sat cross-legged on your coach. “Y/n, who’s your little friend?” she smiled.

“Oh, this is Vinnie!” You laughed.

Your dad stepped up beside you sticking his hand out at Vinnie. “Y/f/n Y/l/n,” your dad greeted, obviously trying to intimidate Vinnie.

Instead of getting up to shake his hand, Vinnie remained seated with his arm out. The distance between the two wasn’t small enough for him to reach, and knowing your dad, he wasn’t about to move. Once Vinnie figured this out, he retracted his arm and shook his head.

“U-uh, nope. I’m not really a, uh, a handshaker. You know, germaphobe and all of that.” said Vinnie. “I’m sure you guys are uh…tired and worn out from your flight. You should, um, take a seat and…stuff.”

You and your family stared at the boy in confusion for a minute. After a few seconds of awkward silence, your mom took a seat at the end of the couch.

“Germaphobe.” Your dad huffed to himself, sitting next to Vinnie.

You contained your embarrassment—not only for Vinnie, but for yourself—and sat down in the armchair. Vinnie began at attempting to make small talk, hoping that he could still win your parents over, but that was cut short when Mac found his way over to Vinnie. The large dog began sniffing at the stain as if he was smelling a homecooked meal.

“Oh no, Mac.” Vinnie whined.

You and your family watched in bewilderment as the dog proceed to growl during his sniff session.

“Mac.” Your dad said, snapping at him to get his attention.

Trying to push Mac away didn’t help either in Vinnie’s case; Mac was too determined to get to the bottom of what he was smelling. So, doing the only thing he could do, Vinnie stood up onto your couch and stepped over your parents. Reaching the end, he hopped off and turned to look at the frowning couple.

“I, uh…thank you for having me. This has been really great.” He said, turning to look at you. “Goodnight.”

And with that, the boy rushed out of your apartment, nearly tripping over himself along the way. You could do nothing but look at your parents with a worried grin.

“That’s, uh…that’s Vinnie for you.” You chuckled.

[fanficshiddles]

Losing Control, Chapter 9

Emilia woke up completely disorientated at first, she rolled over on the large bed and groaned, every single muscle in her body ached. And when she tried to sit up, she realised most of her aching was concentrated between her legs.

She managed to hobble to the bathroom, she couldn’t believe how sore she was. And she thought it had been bad when she went horse riding once years ago on holiday. This was a whole new level of pain.

After refreshing herself in the bathroom, she went back into the bedroom and hauled her dress on. She hoped to sneak through and straight out the door, but when she stepped out of the bedroom her nose was drawn towards the kitchen as she could smell bacon.

Her weakness.

But she was SO sore. She looked towards the door, then back to the kitchen. But the ache all over her body was making her just want to go for a hot bath. So she made her way towards the door, but the bastard that caused this agony quickly appeared on front of her, blocking her way out. Damn his long legs.

‘Where you sneaking off to?’ He raised an eyebrow and reached out towards her.

She backed away and shuffled away from him around the room. ‘No, no, no, don’t touch me. You did this to me!’ She growled at him as he stalked after her across the room, so she went behind the sofa, glad of something between them.

Loki chuckled. ‘You certainly weren’t complaining last night, especially as you were the one to beg me to fuck you.’

‘It’s not funny, i’m walking like I’ve shit myself! You’ve broken me!’ She screeched at him and then tried to run away as he suddenly darted round the sofa towards her.

‘I can make you feel better.’ He smirked as he chased her around the room, making her squeal as she then ran into the kitchen, after almost getting caught by him.

She ran to the other side of the island counter. ‘Please.’ She whined. ‘I’m too sore.’

Loki chuckled again and slowed down, he walked carefully towards her. He reached out and captured her wrist when she didn’t run, pulling her into him so he could put an arm around her back, keeping her trapped against him.

Emilia swallowed hard as she was held against his body and she looked up at him. ‘Just feed me and let me go.’ She pleaded.

‘Hmmm.’ Loki cupped her chin and stole a kiss from her, leaving her slightly dazzled at the softness of it. ‘Apart from your physical aches, are you feeling fine?’ He asked, genuinely concerned as his fingers fanned out softly across her cheek, making her skin tingle. Though she willed her body to stop reacting to his touch.

‘No.’ Emilia huffed, making Loki raise an eyebrow in alarm, until she continued. ‘My professor has just fucked me into oblivion and now I can’t fucking walk!’

Loki threw his head back with laughter, then he moved away from her to check on the bacon. When he glanced back at her over his shoulder, he saw she was still just stood where he’d left her.

‘Are you going to take a seat or continue to stand there like a deer in the headlights?’

She glared back at him, willing him to burst into flames right there and then. But alas, he didn’t. So she decided to take a seat instead. She winced when she sat down. Yeah, she definitely couldn’t wait to get to the safety of her flat and have a nice hot bath.

Loki soon served up bacon butties for them both and then joined her, winking at her across the table as he sat down. Earning a roll of the eyes from her in return.

Emilia moaned when she bit into the buttie. ‘Oh god, this is so good.’

‘That moan sounds very familiar.’ Loki grinned at her.

‘Stop being a perv. You’ve had your fun.’ She said with her mouth full.

‘Oh no, pet. We’re just beginning our fun.’ He purred in a sultry manner.

Emilia almost choked on her bacon. But she swiftly got to her feet and started heading for the door with her buttie still in hand. ‘Right, that’s it. Thanks for the bacon… But not for the agony I am in.’

Loki let her run this time, but did call to her from where he sat. ‘Your body will accustom to it soon enough. We will work on your stamina, don’t worry.’

The response he got was his door being slammed shut, making him laugh to himself.

As soon as Emilia got into her flat, she wolfed down the last of her buttie while she ran the bath. Throwing off her dress, she quickly brushed her teeth before then sinking into the tub, at last.

‘Ahhh, yes.’ She groaned as the hot water lapped at her skin, instantly making her aches and pains feel a bit better.

She parted her legs and slipped a hand down, she winced at how sore and sensitive she was now. Her outer lips were still a bit puffy, making her whine as she just lay back and relaxed. Doing her best not to fall asleep in the water.

For the rest of the day, Emilia spent it lazing around her flat, having some naps in bed and watching TV with plenty of chocolate and crisps. Just what she needed after being fucked like that from her rather hung professor.

Even though her body was still sore when she went to bed that night, she couldn’t help herself from playing with herself for a while, thinking about him… He was under her skin, and she hated it so much.

-

On Monday morning, she had Loki’s class first thing. Part of her was dreading seeing him, she had deliberately left a bit later than normal that morning to avoid him in the hall.

When she got to his class, she managed to sneak in amongst the other students to get to her seat.

Loki did look directly at her when everyone settled down. She swore she saw a slight smirk from him too.

‘Where were you Saturday? I thought you were coming to the party. You missed one heck of a night!’ One of the guys said to Emilia from a few seats away.

‘Something… came up. Sorry.’ Emilia said, trying not to look towards Laufeyson and to keep her cheeks from blushing.

‘We’re planning another at the end of the month, hopefully you can come to that one.’ Her friend grinned at her.

‘Yeah, I’ll try.’ She smiled back.

‘Alright, settle down everyone. I know it’s first thing on a Monday morning and you’re all still reeling over weekend antics, but with exams coming up soon its time to buckle down.’ Loki said firmly to the class, halting all conversations.

Emilia kept quiet mostly during class at first, but then she couldn’t resist answering one or two of his questions with snarky remarks as usual, getting under his skin, in more ways than one.

He pinched the bridge of his nose after she answered rather cockily again. ‘Emilia. If you don’t have anything constructive to answer with, do not raise your hand again.’ He growled at her.

‘But I thought that everyone’s opinion was valid, Sir?’ She asked in such an innocent tone, but Loki could see the cheekiness in her eyes and he so desperately wanted to take her into his office to punish her again.

‘Stop with the cheek.’ He warned.

Emilia was rather enjoying riling him up. And after what he did to her at the weekend, she decided to try and get back at him. Perhaps get him flustered and lose professionalism.

When everyone was supposed to be writing, she looked up and caught his eye. She slowly licked her lips, then put the end of her pen in her mouth after lavishing it with her tongue, putting on a bit of a show as she sucked it in and out.

Loki glared hard at her, but felt his trousers tighten. He remained sitting behind his desk, not wanting to give any of the other students a scare.

Taking it a little further, she unbuttoned the top few buttons of her blouse, then deliberately leaned forward a bit.

She could tell that she was getting to him, the way he did look a little flustered as he had to clear his throat before continuing. He seemed to shuffle on his seat a few times, too.

Loki managed to calm himself down for nearer the end, so he was able to stand again and wander around the class while they all had a big open discussion.

They ended up talking about Loki’s children in the mythology. How he had sex with a stallion.

‘You’d know alllll about that, wouldn’t you, Sir? Since you are called Loki, after all.’ Emilia blurted out, earning a few low snickers from some other students.

Loki stopped on front of her desk and glared down at her.

‘See me in my office at lunch… And button up your blouse, this isn’t a nightclub.’ He barked at her.

The class murmured a low, ooooo. Making Loki give everyone some extra research to do for the following day. Emilia wasn’t very popular for that.

But she had her own worries to deal with. She was rather embarrassed after what he said, and annoyed that she had let him get one up on her.

When lunch time rolled round, she reluctantly went along to his office. Not wanting to risk what the consequence would be if she didn’t go. Knowing Loki, it wouldn’t be good.

But she instantly regretted it when she walked into his office, and he told her in a terrifyingly dominant tone to shut and lock the door behind her.

[mariesdeluluworld]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐊𝐞𝐲𝐬

Next Chapter

BOOM.

They knocked again.

Dudley jerked awake. "Where's the cannon?" he said stupidly.

There was a crash behind Harry and Y/n and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands — now Y/n knew what had been in the long, thin package he had brought with them.

"Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you — I'm armed!"

There was a pause. Then —

SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor. A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair. The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey. . . ." He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear. "Budge up, yeh great lump," said the stranger.

Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon.

"An' here ya are Harry, Y/n!" said the giant. Harry and Y/n looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile. "Las' time I saw you both, you was only a baby," said the giant. "Harry, yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes." The giant turned his attention Y/n and tears welled up. "And yeh, Y/n, yeh got yer mum's smile and nose. Oh, an' yer dad's chin!"

Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise. "I demand that you leave at once, sir!" he said. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," said the giant; he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon's hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room.

Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on.

"Anyway — Harry, Y/n," said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys, "a very happy birthday to yeh both. Got summat fer yeh here — I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat, he pulled a slightly squashed box. Harry opened it with trembling fingers, while Y/n watched his twin with curious eyes. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with 'Happy Birthday Harry & Y/n' written on it in green icing.

Harry and Y/n looked up at the giant. "Thank you . . . sir?" said Y/n, a smile blooming on his face while his brother stared at the giant man.

Harry meant to say thank you, but the words got lost on the way to his mouth, and what he said instead was, "Who are you?"

The giant chuckled. "True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry's whole arm, before taking Y/n's and giving his arm the same treatment.

"What about that tea then, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands together. "I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind." His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing, but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Harry felt the warmth wash over him as though he'd sunk into a hot bath.

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea.

Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little. Uncle Vernon said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley."

The giant chuckled darkly.

"Yer great puddin' of a son don' need fattenin' anymore, Dursley, don' worry." He passed the sausages to Harry and Y/n, who were so hungry they had never tasted anything so wonderful, but they still couldn't take their eyes off the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, Harry said, "I'm sorry, but we still don't really know who you are." The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts — yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course."

Y/n shared a look with his twin before answering. "Er — no," Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly, trying to cover up what his brother said, hoping that this giant of a man didn't hurt him or Harry. "Sorry?" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows.

"It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh both weren't gettin' yer letters, but I never thought yeh both wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"All what?" Harry asked this time, confusion clouding his features.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!" He had leapt to his feet. In his anger, he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall. "Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the Dursleys, "that these boys —these boys! — knows nothin' abou'— about ANYTHING?"

Harry thought this was going a bit far. He and Y/n had been to school, after all, and his marks weren't bad, although Y/n did do a bit better on their exams.

"We know some things," he said. "We can, you know, do math and stuff." But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About our world, I mean. Your world. My world. Yer parents' world."

"What world?" asked Y/n, his arms folding nervously. Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.

"DURSLEY!" he boomed. Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared wildly at Harry. "But yeh both must know about yer mum and dad," he said. "I mean, they're famous. You're famous."

"What? My — my mum and dad weren't famous, were they?" asked Harry, his attention to his cowering aunt and uncle. "Yeh don' know . .. yeh don' know . . ." Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Harry and Y/n with a bewildered stare. "Yeh don' know what yeh both are?" he said finally. Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice. "Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell them anything!"

A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You never told them? Never told them what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer them both? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from them all these years?"

"Kept what from me?" said Harry eagerly, making Y/n swat his brother on the arm. Harry turned his head glared at his twin before turning his attention back to his panicking uncle.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic. Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.

"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid.

"Harry, Y/n — yer a wizard."

There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.

"We're a what?" gasped Harry.

"A wizard, o' course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, "an' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh both read yer letters."

Harry and Y/n stretched out their hands at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Mr. H. Potter and Mr. Y/I Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. Y/n pulled out his letter and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Questions exploded inside Y/n's head like fireworks and he couldn't decide which to ask first. After a few minutes, he stammered, "What does it mean, they await my owl?" Harry nodded his head, as if he had the same question in his green eyes.

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart-horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat, he pulled an owl — a real, live, rather ruffled- looking owl — a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Harry and Y/n could read upside down:

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Given Harry and Y/n their letters.

Taking them both to buy their things tomorrow.

Weather's horrible. Hope you're well.

Hagrid

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone. Harry realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly.

"Where was I?" said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon, still ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight. "They're not going," he said. Hagrid grunted. "I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop them," he said.

"A what?" asked Y/n, interested. "A Muggle," said Hagrid, "it's what we call non-magic folk like them. An' it's your bad luck you and your brother grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."

"We swore when we took them in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of them! Wizard indeed!"

"You knew?" said Harry. "You knew I'm―We're― a wizard?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "Knew! Of course we knew! How could you and your brother not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that — that school — and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was — a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that. They were proud of having a witch in the family!" She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you both, and of course I knew both of you would be just the same, just as strange, just as — as — abnormal; and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you two!"

Harry and Y/n had gone very white. As soon as Y/n found his voice, he said, "Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry and Y/n Potter not knowin' their own story when every kid in our world knows their name!"

"But why? What happened?" Harry asked urgently. The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious. "I never expected this," he said in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh both, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Harry, Y/n, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh — but someone's gotta — yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'." He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys.

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh — mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it. . . ." He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds, and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with — with a person called — but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows —"

"Who?" asked Harry.

"Well — I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?" he asked again.

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went . . . bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was . . ." Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

"Could you write it down?" Y/n suggested, sweetly.

"Nah — can't spell it. All right — Voldemort." Hagrid shuddered.

"Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this — this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too — some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry, Y/n. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches . . . terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him — an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You- Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You- Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before . . . probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em . . . maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where yer both was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. Yeh both was just a year old. He came ter yer house an'— an'— "

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad — knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find — anyway . . .

"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then — an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing — he tried to kill yeh both, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you and Y/n got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh — took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even — but it didn't work on yeh both, an' that's why yer famous, Harry, Y/n. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you two, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age — the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts — an' you two was only a baby, an' you lived."

Something very painful was going on in Harry's and Y/n's mind. As Hagrid's story came to a close, both boys saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than they had ever remembered it before — and Y/n remembered something else, for the first time in his life: a high, cold, cruel laugh that sent shivers down Y/n's spine.

Hagrid was watching him sadly.

"Took the two of yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot . . ."

"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon. Harry jumped; he had almost forgotten that the Dursleys were there. Y/n however, glared at hit fat uncle, fury in his e/c eyes.

Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage, thought Y/n as he watched his uncle. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, boys," he snarled, "I accept there's something strange about the two of you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured — and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion — asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types; just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end —"

But at that moment, Hagrid leaped from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Dursley — I'm warning you — one more word . . ."

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor.

Harry and Y/n, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them.

"But what happened to Vol-, sorry — I mean, You-Know-Who?"

"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you both. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see . . . he was gettin' more an' more powerful — why'd he go?

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back.

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you both finished him, Harry, Y/n. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on — I dunno what it was, no one does — but somethin' about you two stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looked at the twins with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Harry and Y/n, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A wizard? Them? How could they possibly be? They'd spent their life being clouted by Dudley and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; if they were really wizards, why hadn't they been turned into warty toads every time they'd tried to lock him and Harry in their cupboard? If they'd once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick them around like a football?

"Hagrid," said Harry quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think we can be wizards." To his and Y/n's surprise, Hagrid chuckled. "Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

Y/n's brows furrowed on his forehead as he thought about all the unexplained things he and Harry did in their life. While Y/n was thinking, his eyes glued to his feet, Harry looked into the fire. Now he came to think about it . . . every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him and Y/n had happened when they, Harry and Y/n, had been upset or angry . . . chased by Dudley's gang, they had somehow found himself out of their reach . . . dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, they'd managed to make it grow back . . . and the very last time Dudley had hit him and Y/n, hadn't they got their revenge, without even realizing they were doing it? Hadn't he set a boa constrictor on him?

Harry looked at his brother and saw that Y/n had a small smile forming on his face. He gave his twin a smile and Y/n's smile became wider and they looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at them both.

"See?" said Hagrid. "Harry and Y/n Potter, not a wizard — you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight.

"Haven't I told you they're not going?" he hissed. "They're going to Stonewall High and they'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and they both need all sorts of rubbish — spell books and wands and —"

"If they wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop them," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's son's goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. Their name's been down ever since they was born. They're off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' they'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled —"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH THEM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER —" he thundered, "—INSULT—ALBUS—DUMBLEDORE—IN—FRONT—OF—ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley — there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry and Y/n saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers. Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully. "But it didn't work, anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway, there wasn't much left ter do." He cast a sideways look at the boys under his bushy eyebrows.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm — er — not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff — one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job —"

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry, making Y/n elbow his brother in the rips. Harry gave his twin a glare, but he wasn't looking at Harry. No, Y/n was staring at Hagrid.

"Oh, well — I was at Hogwarts meself but I — er — got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?" asked Y/n, curiosity getting the better of him.

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He took off his thick black coat and threw it at Harry.

"You both can kip under that," he said. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."

Once they were settled down for bed, with the loud sores of Hagrid occupying the hut, Harry and Y/n laid next to one another with Hagrid's coat over them. Y/n's left arm was bent and behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling. Thoughts filled his head, thoughts about his parents, this magic school called Hogwarts, how he and his twin were wizards. It was all so overwhelming, yet exciting at the same time.

"Harry?" he whispered into the night. Harry grunted, letting Y/n know that he was awake. "Are you okay?" he asked. Harry sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "I honestly don't know, Y/n. It's all so crazy, yet fantastic at the same time. But what Hagrid said about Voldemort killing mum and dad frightens me. What if he's still out there?"

"I don't know Harry. But I do know that I'll always be there for you. By your side. Always."

Harry turned his head to look at Y/n with a smile on his face. "Thank you Y/n." he closed his eyes and mumbled: "Night," and Y/n smiled at his twin before replying quietly. "Night, Harry," the eleven-year-old boy closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of a woman with red hair and green eyes singing softly into the dead of night.

[rockingrobin69]

Permission

1k~, eighth year, CW for mentions of: alcohol, murder, body horror. All strictly mentions, pretty lighthearted too. For the lovely @bubble-gumhead who asked for the prompt, “Stop it! You’re doing it all wrong!”

In this light, anyone would fall in love with Draco Malfoy. The glowing embers reflected in his eyes like some sort of promise. The curl of his hair frizzy at its edges, ruffled, touchable. That smile, the one Harry had only recently discovered, softening his features an impossible amount. No one could blame Harry for staring. It wasn’t weird, though; they were friends now. He was allowed to look.

But maybe not quite like that.

“You alright, mate?”

He turned to Ron with alarm. “Er, yeah, why?”

“Dunno. You’re… looking a bit funny. Like you want to eat Malfoy whole or something. Or murder him and wear his skin as robes.”

“He does have beautiful skin,” Pansy threw, unhelpfully, from where she was slung on the arm of the sofa. “It’d look good on you, Potter. You could make a new cloak, seeing as yours still never fit quite right.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so, Parkinson. Harry’s a handsome bloke, he doesn’t need that poncy, pale blond for looks.”

Harry didn’t know if to feel honoured by Ron’s loyalty or a bit worried. “Uh, I don’t think I’m going to be wearing anybody else, thanks.”

“Are we talking about me?” Draco joined the conversation, flopping down next to Harry. “Thought I heard someone say ‘pale’, ‘blond’ and ‘handsome’ all in the one sentence.”

“Yeah, forgot to mention arsehole.” Ron’s voice wasn’t so hostile anymore, which Harry took as a win.

“Well, I thought it was implied. Move, Potter, you’re squashing me.” Harry hurried to shuffle away, because it wasn’t on purpose or anything. “In any case, Granger and I discussed it, and we’re going to throw the party after all. We’ll do it after hours, in the Western tower. We’ll get McGonagall’s approval—or at least set better spells this time.”  

A loud whoop ran through the common room. Harry couldn’t help the heat in his cheeks. “You… another party? Really?”

The last one was already stretching his limits a fair bit. To dance with Draco, with tipsy, smiling Draco, all happy and open, and still manage to keep his distance—when the light made him look bloody loveable—

“Will you have whisky this time?” Ron asked somewhere in the distance. “’Cause I’m not coming if it’s only butterbeer.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Three of those and you went down like a log, Ronald.”

Pansy sneered as Ron protested his indignation. She was draped all over Draco, idly braiding his hair, and Harry didn’t even know why everyone looked at him when someone yelled, “Stop it! You’re doing it all wrong!”

“Huh?” Ron cleared his throat, looking a bit red in the cheeks. “What, mate? What am I doing wrong?”

“Er,” Harry spat, mortified. “No, I didn’t…” shit. He hadn’t realised it was him who said it. “Just, with the, er, alcohol and, everything. If you get drunk on butterbeer, then—then you’re doing it all wrong.”

Everyone laughed—or nearly everyone, at least, and went back to speaking about the party. But Draco didn’t. Horribly, terribly, impossibly, he was looking at Harry as though he knew what he was actually talking about. Pansy’s hands in Draco’s hair. Draco’s touchable, lovely hair. In a fluid movement he sat up, brushed Pansy’s hand aside, and leaned against Harry instead.

“Potter. Are you still any good at sneaking around?”

“Erm… why?”

“To inspect the grounds for the party, of course. Come on, you have to take me. It’s for the sake of our entire year. You’ve still not outgrown your martyr complex, right?”

Harry rolled his eyes, but still let Draco grab him by the shirt and drag him away, to Ron’s laughter and Pansy’s snorts. Soon—too soon—they were alone in the quiet hallways, and Harry found it was rather difficult to swallow. Or breathe. Or—

Draco pulled him into an empty classroom and closed the door behind them. Harry forgot what the word panic meant, as English sort of went out the window with all high cognitive functions, but he was pretty sure this was it: accelerated heartrate, shallow breath. Sweaty palms.

“Draco, what…?”

Moonlight spilled into the room, reflecting in Draco’s bright eyes. He seemed like an angel like this; like a mythical creature, not quite real. Harry gulped as he approached.

“You’ve been looking at me,” he said, as though this were any sort of explanation. “In the common room, before. And in class. And in Hogsmeade. You’ve been looking all year, Potter, and I… I’m beginning to think maybe you want to do a little more than just look.”

“M-more?” Harry thought he would pass out soon unless he somehow got some air in his lungs. More? What could he have that’s more? More like… talk? More like… touch? More like…

“More.” Draco nodded, and now he was too close, bordering on crushing Harry against the wall. He wasn’t touching him—not yet, Harry thought with hysteria. But he might. If Harry said that’s what he wanted. How to train his tongue though, how to salvage anything from the smoldering ruins of his brain, how… “Harry? Do you?”

“Do I—what?”

“Want more?” Draco’s words were breathed against his face, hot and baffling, and tantalising, and wonderful. “Want me?”

“Fuck,” was all Harry was able to say, nodding like a maniac, wrapping two hands around his waist. Draco pinned him to the wall with nothing more than a smirk, but then with his hands too, and then with his mouth, crashing against Harry’s. And, indeed, fuck; anything Harry could have ever imagined—

They finally detached for air, and Harry breathed in big, helpless gulps. Draco looked unbelievable; lips swollen, hair mussed, eyes large and unblinking. Touchable, soft, loveable, all of it. Harry could stare at him forever like this. But he wanted more, and simply looking just wasn’t enough. So he grabbed Draco again and kissed him for all he was worth, and Draco kissed back, just as desperate, just as joyous. With a kiss like that, Harry thought, anyone would fall in love with Draco Malfoy. No one could blame him for it. But Harry? He was allowed.

[tardis-ghost-blog]

A task to fail (Simm!Master x Reader)

Rating: E - For explicit sexual content Summary: "No. That's not another task." His hand stroked along your cheek and he smiled. "Just couldn't resist stealing a kiss from you."

Sometimes the Master brought a bunch of humans aboard the Valiant. It was fun to watch their various reactions, to walk around in front of them, grinning madly. Sometimes he let them look outside the window when he sew destruction, other times he told them horrifying stories about how they would die.

It was one of those times when you first entered the Valiant. The soldiers had captured you off the streets, had told that you had been chosen as a special guest for the prime minister. With you were two others. They all looked so scared. Sure, you had heard the stories, but they had never bothered you. Since the first day Saxon had appeared on telly, you had found him quite fascinating. There was just something about him that had always made you want to meet the guy.

This made you weirdly calm when he walked in, clad in a black suit, eyeing everyone with almost childish curiosity. After a minute he stood in front of everyone and grinned widely.

"Congratulations, humans!" he announced. "You have been proudly elected to become part of my staff up here. I'm afraid-" he put on a mocking put- "your predecessors have decided to quit the job."

You exchanged glances with the others and found even more fear in their eyes. Saxon clapped his hands to get your attention back.

"To make this more exciting, I will decide what your tasks will be. If you do them well, you might stay. If not... well. We will find an... arrangement." He let out a chuckle that simply sounded evil.

It was inappropriate, but the way he acted just got to you. You couldn't help but smile at this and Saxon saw it and trod directly in front of you.

"Is that funny?" he asked sweetly.

"You'll kill everyone who fails, won't you?" You hadn't really planned to say this, but you just had to know. "It's a game."

Maybe you shouldn't have sounded so excited about this. It also was your own life that was at risk.

"Oh, and you like games, little one?" Saxon bent slightly down to your eyelevel, which wasn't very high. "Are you begging to become my personal assistant?"

Wide eyed you glared at him. You wouldn't even make it a day! He would give you an impossible task and just smile this god-awful smile of his, that was far too charming.

Despite all of this... you nodded.

Saxon blinked surprised, then threw his head back and laughed.

You never learned what happened to the others and you never asked. Instead you focused on the given tasks and did you best to fulfil them properly. And, at the same time, tried to find out as much as possible about Saxon.

He made your life difficult, that's for sure. On your first few days he let you sort the library. First alphabetically, then, when he decided this was boring, he made you sort everything once again, this time by colours. So you arranged everything to form a bunch of quite pretty gradients.

Saxon stood there, one finger on his lips, head slightly tilted, nodding eventually. He gave you a happy grin. "That looks way better, don't you think? Well, I think it does. Good job."

There were other tasks. Tedious tasks that were meant to tire you, some that were like puzzles you needed to solve. But you wouldn't give up. He couldn't kill you, when he had no idea where you were. So, until you found a way to get or do what he wanted, you hid. Each time you came back successful, Saxon looked a little dumbfounded.

"Stubborn, aren't we?" he mumbled one day. Then a smirk spread on his lips. "How about you make me a cuppa tea? I could really use one."

Tea... That sounded weirdly normal and easy. He probably was extremely picky with how it was made.

"Mister Saxon, Sir," you said then. "How would you like the tea?"

He couldn't punish you for making it exactly how he ordered you to. And when he realized your intention, his eyes crinkled in joy. It made him look really handsome and you had a hard time not blushing.

In the end you made his tea to his exact liking. And you weren't sure whether he hated or adored you when he took the first sip. Whatever it was, it was followed by an amused chuckle. He gave you a smile and it made your heart jump.

"You really try to stay alive, eh?"

"Uhm... sure. I guess." You shrugged and couldn't help but smile a little. "But it's more fun to see how happy you look when I do something right."

That surprised him visibly. For a second something slipped and he looked almost lost, as if he had no idea what to make of this. You decided it was a good opportunity.

"I always thought you were an interesting man, Sir. I'm glad I could meet you."

Saxon arched a brow and took another sip. "You'll die here. You know that, don't you?" He waited for your nod. "It's fun to play with you. But sooner or later there will be a task you won't manage to complete." He cracked a crooked smile. "Almost a shame. I'm really having fun with you. You're not as stupid as the others."

"I had to fend for myself my entire life," you mumbled. And when he didn't stop you from talking, you dared to continue, "I... actually should thank you. Your soldiers killed my foster-dad. He used to beat me a lot. Because of him I never had any close friends and... no other family. There is nothing I could return to, anyway."

Saxon didn't say a word. However, from then on, he kept you around. To make him tea, to sort his files, to keep his office clean. But mostly, as it seemed, to learn more about you. He asked many questions and you never hesitated to answer. Because, in return, he gave answers of his own. And you learned so much. When he told you, one day, that he actually was an alien, you didn't have a hard time believing it.

"We look so alike, though," you said, eyeing him curiously.

"Oh, there are many differences." The Master - he had told you his real name - chuckled and reached for your hand to place it on his chest.

You blushed at the touch and your own heartbeat sped up, so it took you a few seconds to realize that his was somewhat strange. It was fascinating and made you smile.

He told you of the war, of how he had fought in it and then ran, how he had almost obsessively spent a lifetime doing literally nothing else, but to repair a rocket to a place that wasn't even real. And then he had landed here.

"Sounds like you didn't have a quiet minute since years," you muttered.

"Yah..." The Master sighed and leaned back on the sofa. Lately he was strangely tense around you, especially when you came too close. And still his eyes followed you everywhere, almost hungry. "No time to... rest." He growled to himself and closed his eyes.

"You're alright?" you asked and leaned down to him. "Want me to make more tea?"

The Master grinned with closed eyes. "No. But..." he paused and eyed you possessively, which sent a shiver down your spine. He shook his head. "You're fun. I quite like you, which is bad. That makes it really hard to break you."

"Why, thanks?" You laughed and poked his shoulder. "Come on. You've told me so much already. I don't think a little request would break me." You poked out your tongue. "I could manage all your stupid tasks. I'm sure I can manage to do one that actually means something to you."

"Yeah?" he giggled impishly, suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him. It made you lose balance and you almost fell. But you could stretch out your hand in time, which landed right next to the Master's head. And your face came close to his. So close you could get lost in his hazel eyes.

"You know... Time Lords are usually above such things." His thumb stroked over your wrist. "But you make this difficult. And it's been such a long time. With the war and everything."

You had no idea if you should stay in this position or move away. He was so close you could feel his breath ghost over your lips. Your eyes met, his gaze was intense, demanding without words. In that moment you didn't care if it would bring you in trouble, the urge was too great. So you leaned forward, only a little, brushed his lips with yours. He sighed, lids falling shut.

And suddenly he grabbed your sides with both hands and pulled you right into his lap. Surprised you yelped, but he left you no time for confusion, his mouth found yours, devouring it in a fierce kiss. Your hands landed on his shirt collar, stroked along the cloth to do something. His tongue pressed against your lips, demanded entrance, which you gave willingly.

There was a soft groan from him that let warmth pool into your belly, but at the same time seemed to snap him out of everything. He broke the kiss, both of you panting heavily. His irises were almost black, his look mischievous.

"Whoops," he breathed out.

"Yeah." You chuckled softly. "Whoops." Then you remembered something and pulled away a little. "What about your wife?"

The Master huffed. "Political marriage. We never... were close in any way."

Slowly your fingers trailed down his chest, your hands came to rest above his hearts that still were beating wildly. It made you proud and giddy that you could do this to him, made you crave more. You moved in his lap, just enough to feel yourself gliding over the bulge in his pants. That made him groan again, but surprisingly he stopped you with his grip.

"No. That's not another task." His hand stroked along your cheek and he smiled. "Just couldn't resist stealing a kiss from you."

You giggled at that and gave him a tongue-touched grin. "Since when are you so reluctant?"

He returned the grin, connected your foreheads. "I like the thought of how I could make you feel, how I could make you scream my name. But it needs to be real. It's no fun otherwise."

"Is that so?" You leaned forwards and captured his lips again, rocking against his crotch in the same movement.

The Master groaned openly into your mouth, one of his hands snaked to the small of your back to press you closer. The kiss got wilder, his tongue doing things to you that made your head light. He swallowed your soft moans, while his finger glided along your shoulders, every touch sending goose bumps down your spine. You shivered when he traced a line down your back, when he caressed your bare skin and opened the clips of your bra.

"Sure about this?" he brought out.

His eyes were so hungry for you, it was hard to tell if he would really stop would you say 'no'. And still you had a feeling that he would. Which got you aroused even more. So, instead of an answer, you reached a hand between you and cupped his erection, stroking firmly over his pants. He gasped, eyes falling shut.

For a bit he let you tease him like that, then he grabbed the hem of your jumper and pulled it over your head, together with the opened bra. His skilled hands moved to your breasts, caressing them, thumbs stroking over your nipples, making them harden almost instantly.

Somehow your lips met again, tongues dancing sensually. It wasn't fair that he was still clothed, so you unbuttoned his dress shirt, happy he didn't wear a jacket right now. You wanted skin, wanted to feel him, and quick.

You weren't the only impatient one, however. Without a warning, the Master grabbed your bum and lifted you from him to drop you on your back on the sofa. His fingers slipped under the waistband of you jeans, eliciting a new groan from you, before he grabbed your feet to get rid of the shoes and then, finally pulled your jeans down, together with your soaked knickers.

His eyes roamed over your naked body, took in every detail with awe. You sat up then and unbuttoned his own pants, while he kicked off shoes and threw away the belt. Curiosity grew in you, making you wonder if Time Lords actually were... compatible with humans. It certainly had felt like it, and when you pulled down his pants you weren't disappointed.

"Like what you see?" he asked, wolfishly grinning.

"Oh, a lot."

"Then move aside, will you?"

You did, making space on the sofa, only to find yourself sitting in his lap again a second later. Feeling him skin to skin made your head even lighter than before. You started to move against him, then wrapped your hand around his erection to glide up and down his full length. Your thumb stroked over the tip, made him sigh out a moan. His fingers were on you clit at the same time, drawing circles that spiked your lust to new peeks. Oh, you wanted to have him inside you. You couldn't wait any longer. It was unbearable.

You groaned and kissed his half opened lips. "I need you. Want you."

"Say my name," he breathed against your mouth.

"Master." His name stumbled over your lips like a plea and you could almost hear his patience snap.

Both of you moved in unison. He straightened a little and you sat up on your knees so he could guide himself inside you. Slowly you let yourself down again, feeling every inch of him fill you out completely. You both groaned, stayed still for a moment to adjust and simply savour the intensity of the moment.

His hands on your bum urged you to move, pressed you flush against him. You had never done it in this position and regretted it now. The friction was just perfect, or maybe it was only because of the Master. You built up a rhythm, moved on him with delight. He, on the other hand, nibbled his way down your throat, leaving small marks on your skin here and there, while his hands were either on your bum or your breasts.

The tension in you rose quickly, almost too fast. You wanted to enjoy this, wanted to savour every second of it, so you slowed down a little. The Master grabbed your sides and guided your movements, his clouded eyes fixated on yours. Slowly you rose, let him almost slip out of you, before he pulled you back close, making you feel him glide inside you again. It was something you both enjoyed and repeated once more, panting.

The Master wouldn't allow you a third time, captured your lips and pulled you down on him, made you move again with impatience, breath ragged. He must be as close as you were and the thought sent a shiver through your whole body, made you move just a little faster until there was no turning back and you came with his name on your lips, clenching around him and groaning into his mouth, riding out the orgasm until you felt his grip on you tighten and until he had to break the kiss as his own release washed over him.

It took you a small eternity to find back to your senses. You heard the Master's rapid double heartbeat, felt his grip soften, but only for a moment. He then lifted you from him a little to slip out of you and lay down on the sofa. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his look weirdly serene in that moment.

"How about we change our game a little?" he murmured. "If you fail a task I get to have you again."

You nestled against his chest and chuckled. "That's not fair. I'd have to fail on purpose, then."

"Mhm..." He smiled impishly. "Can't let a human win against me, after all."

"That's too bad. I'd get to win, no matter what." You glinted back at him, mirroring the mischief.

The Master scowled, mockingly pursed his lips, then captured yours in a sweet, short kiss. His fingers gently trailed along your spine, drew circles on your skin until your breath hitched.

"I think I still win this," he muttered.

[afeb]

Chris Evans - Could

Having only met Chris a few hours ago, we oddly hit it off. We realised we had the same interests and opinions, ideas and jokes. We spent most of the day talking mindlessly in the garden as everyone mulled around us, a mix of his friends and family.

Now we were in the kitchen as he grabbed another beer and I hopped onto the counter. “Kids?”

I shook my head. “You?”

“No,” he popped the cap. “Want them though.”

“Me too.” I sighed dreamily.

“How many?”

“As many as I can get.” I chuckled, however Chris didn’t.

His eyes seemed to dance with a look I hadn’t seen yet. “Who would you have them with?”

I shrugged and fiddled with the hem of my dress. “I’m not fussy, I just want children.”

“You’re young, you’ve got plenty of time.” He reassured as he stepped a little closer. “Me? My clock is ticking - fast.”

“You’re thirty-nine, hardly dead.” I scoffed.

He shrugged and stepped closer still, abdomen brushing against my bare knees. “Still though, I need kids asap.”

“Who would you have them with?” I asked.

“A nice girl.” He hummed. “Smart, funny, pretty, articulate.”

“Big boots to fill.” I noted.

“You fill them.”

Silence flowed between us as I furrowed my brows, looking into his eyes. He didn’t say another word, simply tilted his head back and took a long sip of his beer.

“Me?” He nodded. “You’d have kids...with me?”

“Would you not have them with me?” I thought over his question for a moment.

“We met four hours ago.” I stated.

“And?”

“I could be a psycho-murderer who collects cocks I’ve cut off.” He choked a little on his beer. “I don’t, but you wouldn’t know.”

I jumped a little as he parted my thighs, cool beer brushing against my skin as he stepped between them. “We’ve talked for the past four hours with no breaks, no silences, just easy conversation. We’ve told each other about family, ex’s, dreams. I may not know every inch of you, but fuck I want to.”

“How would it even work, having children together?” I warily asked as his hands splayed over my knees.

He placed the bottle down. “Well, we would...you know...”

“Obviously.”

“Then I’d take you out whenever you wanted, go wherever you wanted to,” his hands inched up my thighs. “Touch wherever you asked. Then, you’d move in, or we’d find a new place, we’d decorate and prepare for the baby. We’d fall in love.”

My breath hitched as his palms eased under the skirt of my dress, my hands softly coming to run over his biceps. “How could you be so sure we’d fall in love?”

“Because I think I’ve already started.” My eyes widened. “Not yet, but I feel it blossoming.”

“Chris...” his head moved closer to mine, breath fanning over my lips.

“Everyone’s staying tonight,” he whispered. “You stay too.”

“Is that a question or a demand?” I asked.

“Whatever you want.” He chuckled. “Stay up until everyone is in bed.”

I nodded. “Are you sure?” I couldn’t believe what I was getting myself into.

His lips pressed to mine for a matter of seconds before pulling away. “Absolutely.”

The rest of the day we danced around each other, looking at each other from across the room and softly smiling. Chris’ eyes were transfixed on my stomach sometimes and I was positive he was invisioning me swollen with his baby. I caught my brain day dreaming too, imagining a baby in his arms as he softly cooed the little one to sleep.

One by one, everyone either left or went to their designated rooms. The group around the sofa thinned until it was Chris, me and his brother, Scott.

“I’m gonna hit the hay.” Scott sighed as he stood.

“We won’t be long after.” Chris lied from the sofa, peering at me as I sat on an armchair across from him.

“Night guys.”

“Night.” Chris and I said in unison before we were left alone. We both waited for the click of Scott’s door before Chris spoke.

“Alone at last.” He hummed, shuffling a little on the sofa and spreading his thighs. “Come here, baby.”

I stood with shaky legs and nervously folded my hands, standing in front of him. I squeaked as Chris gripped the backs of my knees and tugged me into his lap, my dress rising up exposing my thighs.

My hands rested on his chest. “Are you sure?”

“Are you?” He cocked a brow.

“Yes.” I whispered, leaning down a little. “Is this mad?”

“Completely.” Chris sighed, hands rounding to pinch my behind. “But fuck, I’ve never wanted someone more.”

His lips trailed over my cheek and jaw, sucking softly on the spot below my ear as I rocked my hips against his. “Maybe we should get to know each other better,” I gasped. “Things we haven’t said.”

“What’s your favourite book?” He asked as he harshly fisted the flesh on my behind, aiding my rocking.

“Little Women,” I gasped. “What’s your favourite song?”

“Every Breath You Take,” his voice was muffled in my neck. “Favourite piece of jewellery?”

“A ring my Mum got me when I was eighteen.” I whined as he nibbled in the skin of my neck. “Favourite position?”

“Any.” He pulled back and pressed his lips to mine, quickly tracing my lips with his tongue before pushing in to meet mine.

I moaned and threaded my fingers into his hair, softly pulling. Chris groaned deeply before pushing me onto the sofa and climbing on top of me.

“Please.” I whimpered.

“Fuck,” his eyes rolled to the back of his head. “I’m gonna fuck a baby into you.”

His hands hasilty went up my skirt and looped around the band of my underwear and tugged them down. He peered at the plain white knickers.

“I didn’t think I’d be doing this.” I bashfully said.

“Anything on you drives me wild.” He threw haphazardly across the room and focussed back on me. “Gonna be quick baby, okay? I’ll show you what I can do another time.”

I pawed at his chest and peered wide-eyed up at him. “Please.”

He easily pulled himself out and stroked a few times. His tip ran up and down me a few teasing times, testing to see if I’d stop him or recoil. When I simply peered up at him and softly pouted my lips, he eased into me slowly.

His head dropped to rest on mine, eyes boring into mine as he bottomed out. A steady breath ran past his lips and washed over my face.

“Okay?” He asked.

“Yes.” I breathed.

He quickly set to work. His pace was bruising, a man on a mission as he rutted his hips into mine. His hands firstly rested either side of my head as he peered down to where we were connected before he dropped onto his forearms and enclosed around me. His hands stroked over my hair as he closely watched me.

I muled and whined at him, hands skimming over his shoulders, his hair, his cheeks and his lips. His mouth parted as my thumb slipped in. Chris softly sucked the digit as he closed his eyes momentarily and moaned. His teeth skimmed over the skin before I retracted my finger and instead tugged the hair on his head.

His hips easily glided in and out, my legs wrapped around his waist aiding his movements and his thrusts grew more and more sloppy.

“Gonna put a baby in you,” he promised. “Fuck, all day I’ve been thinking of you swollen off my cum.”

“Please, I want your baby.” I whined back.

“Take it,” his groaned as his hips stilled and he emptied into me. “Fucking take it.”

My back arched in pleasure as I screwed my eyes shut and took what he gave me. Chris collapsed on top of me, weight resting on my chest as I looped my arms around his broad shoulders and hugged him right.

“Do you think we made something?” I whispered after a moments silence.

“I hope.” He sighed back, pressing a kiss to my lips. “I think I could love you.”

I smiled. “I think I could love you too.”

[pure-kirarin]

Slow & Steady [P1] [Sabo x f!reader] (+18)

Hey bishes. I snapped and decided to publish first chapter of my current project. This was inspired by @glitterfreezed​​ playlist . Honestly I am so thrilled for this story. It’s different from everything I have written so far and I am excited for how it will turn out.  Genre : Romance - Smut - Bestfriends to lovers  General warnings : Alcohol consumption - Dark themes - Swearing - S m u t - possessiveness - Mention of ex-relationships - jealousy

Synopsis : Isn’t love a matter of timing after all ?  That’s what Sabo has always thought. It was about finding the right tempo, making the right moves and hitting the right spot. Patience is a virtue after all, and he had a lot of it. It all started when your ex cheated on you. You were heartbroken, you needed someone and he was there. Was he always that hot ? You didn’t know. But after that night you have never seen him in the same way.  Part II -

Part I : 

“(Y/N)…You should really stop drinking. Said Nami as she took the cup off your hands.

-Leave me alone ! I wanna drink some more…Come on…Let me drink“ you said as you reached weakly for the cup in her hand but ended up stumbling and almost falling.

You were quick to feel an arm encircle your waist. Your intoxicated senses could still pick up his scent, a mixture of mint and cologne. His gloved hand held you a little tighter against him so you don't fall.

« Sabo ! Glad to see you here. I didn't know what to do with her...She's been drinking non-stop.

His hand tightened possessively around your waist. He only knew too well what happened, yet he still asked Nami for confirmation :

« -Hey Nami, What's wrong ? (Y/N) isn't used to drink this much. -Oh...I don't know if I'm technically supposed to tell you but... » she bit her lower lip « let's say that she broke up with (ex). »

You started hysterically laughing as you heard you now ex's name while trying to escape from Sabo's firm grip.

« Eeeeeeeh ? Saboooo~ ? Whatcha doin' here huh ? Oh gosh are you following me ? Why do I always see ya everywhere ? Come're...Let's dance together~ Saboo.. » you screamed so he could hear you over the music.

The nightclub was extremely crowded but you needed all these faces, all these bodies almost crushing you on the dance floor. You needed to drown your pain in alcohol, the pain of being used and discarded, of being betrayed.

You didn't talk about this to Sabo, your bestfriend. You didn't want him to see you in this pathetic state. Seeing you like this made the blood pump into his veins. His fist clenched, but he tried to keep his calm. He slid a hand in his blond locks, sighing and rocking his head back.

He had to keep it in, if he lost his temper, it was going to be the end for your ex.

« I'm going to take her home » He says to Nami as he holds you by your arm.

« 'kay ! Here, she gives him your purse. Take good care of her okay ? I'm counting on you. » She seemed really worried.

-What are you guyyyz on about ? I don't wanna go home ! I wanna drink some more...Come on Sabo, you're no fun. It's good to loosen up from time to time. You're always so uptight...Come on...Lemme go...

-There is no way that I am going to let you in this state, (Y/N)

-That's none of your business ! Let me go....It has nothing to do with you.

Your words hurt but he was used to them, his role as your « best friend » meant that you were always blunt with each other, and usually it amused him, but not tonight.

« You're coming with me. 

-Namiiiiiiii, you traitor! »

Sabo ignored your loud whines taking you to his car, eyebrows tied together, his blood on fire. He felt guilty ; he didn't prevent you from this hearbreak, he didn't protect you, his dear princess. He was too fooled by how happy you seemed, by the way you spoke so eagerly about that bastard, making him wish that it was him instead. But that was going to change. 

You fell asleep while on the backseats of the car. Your dress was slightly up, showing your beautiful legs. It was extremely painful for Sabo to concentrate on the road, his head fuming because of anger and because of seeing you so vulnerable at his side. As you were sleeping and he didn't want to leave you alone, he decided to bring you to his own appartement that he shared with Ace.

He held you like a princess as if you were as light as a feather. Once inside, he put you on the couch. You slowly opened your eyes ;

-Sabooo...Ohh...We're at your place...Where's Ace ?

-Ace is spending the night with Thatch. You can stay here till tomorrow. I can't leave you alone...Well...Like this.

You rubbed your eyes together,  sitting on the sofa. He found your flushed face extremely cute. 

-Ohhh...’kayy...Gosh I'm nauseous..you put your hand over your lips. You looked at the glass of water on the table and got up to reach for it, but you stumbled and dropped the glass on the floor.

-Oh goddamnit...I'm sorry...you bent over to collect the shattered glass but Sabo's hand held yours ;

-It's fine, I'll take care of it. Are you hurt ?

You look at your hand some blood was dripping from the fresh cut. You instinctively put your finger in your mouth while looking into his eyes :

-Uh-uh it's fine...I'm really sorryyy for the glass.

-It's okay. I'll bring you another one, you just wait here, and don't touch anything. He says as he collects the pieces of glass to throw them away. Then he disappears into the kitchen only to come back with a glass of water.

You were sitting there, on the couch, in your underwear ; a simple set of black bra and cotton panties. Your dress was on the floor and you reached for the remote control to turn the T.V. on. Sabo blinked many times. He knew that you were bestfriends, and that you probably only thought of him as a brother, yet, you have never stripped in his presence. He almost dropped the glass of water but thankfully he managed to keep his cool. You were drunk. He didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, especially not tonight. 

« Here, drink up. » He sits next to you and you put your legs on his ;

-Thank you~ Ahh, I took off my dress because it was wet. You said as you gestured to the said black dress. I didn't want to get your couch wet...Also it's kinda hot. You don't mind huh ? It's not like you've never seen me in a swimsuit before...Duuh. Wait ? Are you looking at my chest ??? Eh Sabo, stop right there you're looking at my chest ! I'm sure you're doing it haha.

You said playfully. You had a point, you were to the beach together before, but something about seeing you in underwear was different, and he hated himself for looking at you that way while you were so vulnerable.

-I'm not looking. As you said, it's not like I've never seen you in a swimsuit before. You're going to get a cold though. I'll get you a shirt.

He moves your legs out of the way and gets up.

-Okayyy~ But don't make me wait blondie.

-Blondie ? He stops and looks at you with a raised eyebrow, which makes you laugh super hard. - You know what ? Nevermind.

He proceded to ignore you and comes back with a shirt and some shorts. He took advantage of the situation to change into a white shirt and gray sweatpants. He takes place next to you on the couch as you were too focused watching cartoons and laughing at every not-so-funny joke. 

You managed to put the black shirt on which was too big for you, reaching your thighs. You just threw the shorts away because the shirt was long enough to cover your panties.

-Thankyou~ Wha, your clothes really smell good. Kinda smells like you. You smell good.

He knew that your words were innocent, and that you were much more open because of the alcohol, however, he couldn't help but find you extremely adorable wearing his shirt. The thought of what your ex did made him extremely angry. How could he hurt you this way, you, almost an angel ? 

If only you let him love you, he would never hurt you that way, he would cherish and protect you. You’ll never need anyone but him.

An hour passed, with you laughing extremely loud and him trying to keep his calm as you teased him -unconsciously-, putting your head on his shoulder or messing with him. Then, as you were starting to get a bit sleepy at one in the morning, you let your head fall on his lap and said ;

« Thank you for taking care of me Sabo. You're always here for me...Youuu always help me, you really are an amazing guy. 

You were getting emotional so you put your hands on your face, a bit uncomfortable while talking about your feelings this way. Even though you were bestfriends, you weren't the kind to open up about her feelings so much. You hated being perceived as weak. He ruffled your hair lovingly, taking your hands slowly away from your face. His eyes were extremely gentle, it almost melt your pained heart. You couldn't help but think of your ex, and what he did.

-It's normal (Y/N), I wish I could've prevented all of this. I am sorry for what happened.

-Why are you sorry Sabo ? It's not your fault...It's just me, it's like I'm a fuckboy magnet or something...You said with a bitter laugh, trying to dedramatize the situation.

You sat down again on your knees on the couch, he turned  a bit so he was facing you. He didn't know what to say to ease your pain. He didn't know what to say without betraying his emotions, without giving himself away.

-It's like...Everyone I meet plays me and breaks my heart. I'm so done...I really...What did I do wrong huh ? Why did he have to cheat on me ? Am I not enough ? Am I not pretty enough ? Am I not good enough for him ? What's wrong with me... ? Tell me Sabo what's wrong with me...

You did your best at holding your tears. Sabo gently placed his hand on the back of your head, this gesture was even better than words for you. You just snapped and started crying, your mascara staining the white shirt.

-You are more than enough (Y/N). He is just a bastard. You are extremely pretty..You are kind...Every man dreams to have you by his side. Shh..Don’t cry...he gently caressed your hair

You jolted back, looking him in the eyes and sniffing. He hated to think that in this moment, you were adorable, like a little puppy that was only asking to be protected :

-You're so kind Sabo...Why can't I attract guys like you huh ?

His eyes darkened, he never expected you to say anything like this. He knew it was the alcohol, he knew you didn't mean it, yet, it lit something new inside of him : a hint of hope. And if this wasn't better, you kept going on :

-I mean, you're handsome...You're kind, you're smart...And you make me laugh...you laughed a bit, hell you've seen me at my worst haha ! You really are amazing~I’m so lucky to be your best friend.

you moved yourself a bit because you were getting uncomfortable sitting on your knees on the couch like that. You just slipped onto his lap, and it wasn't the first time you did that. Actually, you had to sit on his lap many times when you were teenagers and you didn't have enough place in the car. But this time was different, you were both adults, and you were drunk and heartbroken.

-I'm sure that a lot of girls are into you...

You look down at his shirt, it's true that you have seen Sabo many times before, but you have never noticed that he was this attractive. You run your hand in his hair as if you were discovering his face for the first time, and you felt some kind of electricity between both of you. He was letting you go too far, almost to the point of no return, but you kept going on and on without leaving him the time to even process one thing.

-Why don't you tell me about anyone huh ? Don't you like girls ? What about that girl, Koala, I'm sure she's into you ! She's pretty cute and...Ahh...Don't tell me you're gay Sabo ???!

You put a hand on your lips simulating a shocked reaction. You knew him for so long and you would be offended if your bestfriend was gay and never told you about it. He held your hand and took it away from your lips. Looking at you with eyes you've never seen before. A serious look, you could've sworn that it was the look of yearning :

-I am not.

His voice firm, just like his grip on your wrist. You could've sworn that you saw something mirrored in his black eyes, something that disappeared as fast as it first appeared. And this thing, that little flame that you almost saw thrilled you. You wanted to understand this change in  atmosphere, and why he wasn't laughing along with you. You felt a bit intimidated.

Did you go too far?

Probably.

But you wanted to go too far.

You wanted to feel something, to forget the stinging pain, to do things that you would regret.

You wanted to sabotage yourself, as a form of punishment.

But for what? And what did he do to deserve this?

Those questions didn't even cross your mind, adrenaline rushing through your veins making your mind blank. You were defying him with your eyes.

« Oh » you said, a mischievous smile forming on your lips. He didn't like this at all. He didn't like how you took all of this as a game while he was serious. But he was that desperate to see your next move. 

The game has just started. It was the perfect timing.

«-Prove it.

-This is getting ridiculous. You should go to sleep as you are saying nonesense.

He knew that you were drunk, but pushing his buttons like this ? It was out of the question for him to take advantage of the situation. His feelings were sincere towards you. He didn't want to do something and betray your trust. He was better than your bastard ex. 

If something was meant to happen, he wanted more than a hookup, he didn't want to abuse of the girl that he has always knew and loved and that saw him as a brother, even if she was half naked on his lap.

It took every ounce of control he had. Every drop of patience in his system to not block you on the couch and kiss your glossy lips.

-You're such a coward...Really...You scared huh ? You're scared ! Say that you've never been with a girl~ Come on, admit it...Who would've known huh ? Sabo you're always so cool~ But in reality you're juuusttttt a virgiiin. I'm so gonna tell Ace ! It's over for you blondie~

You playfully said unaware of the effect of your words, and of how dangerous they were, awakening something almost feral inside of him, just for a few seconds he lost control, pinning you against the couch fist on the side of your face. His face was so close to yours, his hair caressing your cheek and almost making you giggle. 

You have never been this close to Sabo, physically speaking. You felt his leg between yours and you instinctively closed rubbed against it for friction. You just wanted to numb the feelings away. In that moment, you wanted to taunt him, you would've wanted anyone to fuck you. In fact, has he left you in that night club, you would've definitely ended in someone's bed.

But he took you here, so it was his fault, right ? So now it had to be him. He had to numb out the pain.

He was serious.

Sabo, your sweet blondie. Sabo the good friend. Sabo that was always here to pick you up everytime your heart was shattered in million pieces on the ground.

«-Don't try me. I think I'm really close to reaching my limit (Y/N) »

You felt thrilled to see him being serious. You wanted to push his buttons and make him mad. More mad. Because you were broken and you needed some intensity to forget. In that moment, you closed the gap between your lips and encircled his neck with your arms, leaning into a kiss: a desperate, sloppy, drunken kiss. Sabo's eyes opened wide as he felt your soft lips on his. He would have never expected this moment to happen. He never imagined his first kiss with you to be this way. You were so eager, so desperate, and the way you kissed him reflected your conflicted emotions. You kissed him like you needed him, not like you wanted him. 

And that made him full of tenderness. 

He sustained your back, bringing you a bit closer to his chest as you pulled down, eyelids heavy, eyes full of tears :

-Sabo...Kiss me back...Please...I need you. He wanted you, he wanted you so bad that it angered him, but the taste of alcohol on his lips reminded him of your state. His lack of reaction made you even more desperate ; -Sabo don't you want me ? Am I not pretty enough ?...Tell me Sabo...Am I not good enough ? You started nibbling on his ear, and he couldn't help but get hard, he was human after all, and he has loved you for so many years. You whispered into his ear ;

 « Saboo I want you to fuck me »

That was it. That was enough. He got up leaving you there on the couch. Trying so hard not to lose it. He wasn't that guy. If anything, he was mad at your ex, seeing you so hurt that you would initiate something with him, thinking that it was only because of the heart break and alcohol. He held you in his arms like a princess ;

«-Enough playing now, you're going to sleep.

-B-but ! This wasn't what I asked for....You're really a coward after all...You virgin... »

He carried you to his room, putting you on the bed and sitting next to you.

«-I'd love to prove you wrong. However, it would be better if you were in a state where you'd be able to recall how good I am. If you want me to fuck you this badly then maybe ask me when you're sober. »

- Please support me by leaving feedback <3 it motivates me to keep going ! I am tagging people who asked to be tagged or exepressed interest. If you wanna be tagged, ask me !  Enjoy~

 @vemuabhi​​ @glitterfreezed​​ @mwls-garden​​ @soanywaysistartedsimping @tsunderedoctor​

[wakaoujisenhime]

I’m home - Bakugou x reader

Synopsis: Day after day you return home from work to either find your apartment empty or your husband asleep. Your last joint day off is also quite a while back, so you can’t help but feel rather lonely. And as if that wasn’t enough, you read an interview where your man had to give an insight on his married life with you and the questions he had to answer weren’t as pleasant as expected ...

tags/warnings: Bakugou x reader ✅  fluff ✅  (more or less) some domestic bliss ✅  minimal angst ✅  

crossed off square: Take a day off

A/N: This has been in my WIPs for waaay too long, so I’m finally happy to have finished it. Hope you’ll enjoy it! (°◡°♡)

→ BINGO Event masterlist

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

“Katsuki..“

“Hm?”

“When was the last time our day-offs were on the same day?”

——

You unlocked the front door to your apartment and stepped in as you silently announced that you were home, waiting for an answer which sadly never came.

So he’s still at work, huh?

With heavy steps, you slowly moved towards your living room, fully expecting to see your husband lying utterly exhausted on the black sofa. Much to your dismay, the only thing you saw was his Ground Zero themed jacket you had surprised him with on Valentine’s day last year.

A sigh escaped your mouth as you let your eyes scan the emptiness you called home, and that’s when you noticed something peculiar peeking out of one of your trash cans. 

Upon taking a closer look at it, you realized that it was the latest issue of the monthly ‘My HERO!’ magazine, you always made sure to buy so that you could keep track of what your husband, as well as his friends, were up to.

“Katsuki, you dummy, I still haven’t read it yet, you know?” you mumbled to yourself while you took it out of the waste-paper basket and glanced at the cover picture. 

A tall and bulky man whose red shirt emphasized his toned muscles perfectly took up almost the entire space of the booklet. His long black hair was tied up in a high ponytail, and if one looked closely, it was evident that there were still some red streaks left from back in his student days where he used to maintain a completely crimson hairstyle. 

There were some of this issue’s top stories listed on the front page, so you skimmed through the short extracts.

Earphone Jack: A life between a hero and a rockstar

“With Sensei’s help”: The way someone from the general department became one of the TOP 20 heroes

ICY-HOT: How to not only follow into your father’s footsteps but completely obliterate them

“Let me show you how it’s done”: Red Riot’s guide to becoming the manliest hero of society and women’s hearts

Some of these headlines were quite funny to you, but that positive mood only lasted until you saw your husband’s name.

Exclusive interview: How is Katsuki Bakugou’s married life going?

Even though the title wasn’t anything exceptional, you couldn’t deny that it felt a bit suggestive and provocative at the same time. Curious as you were, you immediately looked up the corresponding pages and began reading through them.

The questions didn’t differ that much from other typical Q&A sessions with other prominent figures of society. Still, some tried to imply that Bakugou didn’t seem as happy as some other married pro heroes, and that implication was making you quite sad. 

At some point, this little questionnaire got quite personal, and even if your husband was trying his best to maintain at least some kind of privacy, the reporter just couldn’t take a hint and continued prying. You could’ve only imagined just how mad he must’ve been at this point, but what interested you most were his answers.

Q: So, how are the two of you managing the housework?

A: It heavily depends on who comes home first, but both of us are trying to take as much load off as possible from the other.

--

Q: Do you suspect there might be a different reason for your wife’s late returns?

A: I don’t know what you’re trying to point at, but no, I don’t. She might not be a hero like me, but she’s still a very busy woman, and there are some days on which she even comes home when I’m already asleep. 

--

Q: Aren’t there times when you wish to come home and see that everything’s been taken care of by her?

A: If I wanted a maid, then I would’ve simply hired one.

You angrily closed the magazine and stomped towards the sofa, where you plumped down and began pouting like a small child. 

Now I know why he threw it away…

Those questions were nothing but pure incitement from the reporter who tried to subtly accuse you of being unfaithful and imply that whatever you were doing was insufficient for such a great hero like him. 

Exhausted, you lay down and held onto your man’s jacket, the mix of his favorite cologne, and his scent instantly managed to calm you down a bit. You began imagining how he was kneeling in front of you, running his fingers along your hair while trying to calm your raging heart down by saying that these people knew nothing about his or your private life, and slowly but surely your eyelids grew heavy until they completely closed. 

——

“I’m home.”

After quietly announcing his return, Bakugou disrobed his coat and kicked his shoes off his feet. Upon noticing your footwear, he immediately headed for the bedroom to see if you had already gone to sleep, but much to his surprise, you weren’t there. The thought that you were still at work crossed his mind as he scratched the back of his neck, a disappointed sigh escaping his mouth.

He dragged his feet across the floor and headed for the kitchen. When his red eyes fixated that magazine he had thrown away some hours ago, the unpleasant memories returned.  

I thought I threw that garbage away.

Just as the man was about to repeat what he’d done today, a particular figure caught his attention.

(Y/N)...

Looking at your sleeping form while tightly holding onto his jacket was both calming but saddening as well. The question you asked him some days ago was still haunting his mind.

When was the last time our day-offs were on the same day?

He knew that this question wasn’t supposed to hint at something, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty. In truth, Bakugou had always requested that his day-offs were on days where you would work so that he could at least help you out even a little bit with the housework. The happy and surprised facial expressions you did when you saw just how much your boyfriend had done around the house always filled him with enormous self-satisfaction, so he figured: why not continue that way?

But now that this stupid interview had planted a small seed of doubt in his mind and after seeing you desperately clinging onto a piece of fabric that bore his smell, it made him realize that he’d lost sight of something quite more crucial than just simple relief of fewer dishes to wash.

His calloused fingers gently caressed your cheek while his red eyes focused on your slightly parted lips. He’d given everything to wake you up with a kiss on the lips, but there was no way he could cope with the guilt he would’ve felt from robbing these small but much-needed minutes of rest. Instead, he carefully picked you up like the princess you were for him, gently leaned your head on his shoulder, carried you to the big and fluffy bed the two of you had picked out together some years back. He was relieved to see that he’d been successful in not waking you up while he’d laid you down as carefully as possible.

After tucking you in like a cocoon, Bakugou shut the door behind him and pulled his mobile phone out of his jean’s pockets, frantically searching for a particular man’s number, and when he’d finally found the one he was looking for, he made no halt. He straight out called it while completely disregarding the fact that it was almost 1 AM. 

A tired and grumpy voice picked up after the fourth ting, demanding to know just what the blond needed at such an ungodly hour. 

“A favor...it’s about this week’s day-off.” 

——

The next day you woke up to someone gently poking your cheeks, and when you finally managed to squint your eyes open, the first thing that stood out to you were spiky blond hairs.

“Katsuki..?” you asked in a silent voice, still unsure whether he was truly standing before you or not.

Said man changed his tactic and softly moved some of your hair from your eyes as he answered: “Yeah, it’s me. Now stop dawdling and get up or you’ll be late for work.”

Just as he was about to make some space for you to get out of bed, you wrapped your arms around his waist, which almost made the both of you fall over...almost.

“You little...what do you think you’re doing, huh?”

A muffled giggle was your answer to his rhetorical question, and no matter how hard he tried to get you off of him, you refused to let go, so for better or worse, he had to return your embrace and stay that way until you were satisfied.

After that short but wholesome cuddle session with your husband, you finally started doing as told and prepared for the upcoming workday.

“Alright then...I’ll be leaving,” you announced half loud, conscious of being a possible disturbance for your still sleeping neighbors while looking back at the already dressed up man behind you. Bakugou was standing there, and after seeing the desolate expression on your face, he immediately spread his arms, initiating the embrace you were so desperately looking for. While his arms rested on your back, rubbing it ever so gently you took his scent in, kissing his neck ever so gently, and wished him a good day.

——

“I’m home.”

You took a look around your dark apartment smiling sadly at the fact that your husband hadn’t come back yet, so you did what you always do on lonely evenings such as these: prepare some dinner, run a bath, surround yourself with soft blankets and watch your favorite shows and movies until you eventually drift off to sleep. The last thing you did before sleep caught up to you was check your phone’s calendar and check whether your partner’s day off matched yours and it sadly didn’t.

Alone tomorrow as well, huh…?

You had fallen asleep on such a sad and rather negative thought that it had killed your entire motivation for the following day. The moment you opened your eyes you immediately wanted to fall asleep yet again, so you turned yourself and were now facing your lover’s bed part. Suddenly something rather peculiar caught your eye. His bedside was way messier than when you slept alone, which could only mean that he had come home at some point and that’s when you heard a silent thud coming from beyond your room. 

Could it be..?

You slowly got up and when you opened the bedroom door you were greeted by a rather funny sight. Bakugou was holding onto the kitchen counter with one of his hands and with the other he held his foot and was swearing silently something about how the ‘shitty counter’ had been in his way. He at first didn’t notice your presence but the moment you giggled softly his red eyes darted back to where you were standing.

“S-Shit…! Sorry babe, I didn’t mean to wake you!” he apologized in a silent voice. Instead of answering you simply jogged up to him and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. This gesture was all he needed and his former anger was instantly blown away. 

His strong arms glide along your back while his lips plant multiple gentle kisses on your temple. This gentle way of treating you wasn't something so uncommon and every time he did it it made you incredibly happy.

While you cuddled a sudden question crossed your mind that you couldn’t help but ask.

“Say Katsuki...it’s not like I’m ungrateful for you being here, but...isn’t your day off tomorrow?”

You expected him to get grumpy or insulted, but his reaction was quite the opposite of what you braved yourself for. The grin that appeared on his face was one full of pride and satisfaction, it was as if he had waited for that question. 

“Well, what a coincidence of you to ask! Best Jeanist called me yesterday and said that he has to reschedule my free day for today, so I figured that I’d surprise you with some pancakes and grace you with my presence!”

His arrogant way of proclaiming this was a rather exaggerated attempt to hide the fact that he was actually the one who called up his superior at 1 AM in the morning, requesting the switch in days. 

Normally such a sudden change wouldn’t be possible, but Best Jeanist had a hunch that his sidekick’s decision was most likely because of that interview he had a few days. The pro hero still remembered the way the blond had stormed into his office, screaming something about the audacity of the interviewer, about how these extras were lucky he held back, and how he’d make sure to ‘accidentally’ blow up their main building the next time he fought a villain. Considering his outburst, the older one figured that the questions must’ve been entirely different than anticipated so he decided to wait for the magazine’s next issue to release so that he could have a look as well. 

You simply smiled to yourself and pressed your cheek on Bakugou’s trained chest, while the soft and pleasant smell of pancakes and sandalwood reached your nose. The two of you stayed like that for a couple of minutes until your husband gently pet your back, a subtle signal to signalize that it was time for the two of you to let go. With his warm hand still on your back he softly navigated you to one of the chairs he’d placed around your kitchen island and waited until you sat down so that he could serve you his fluffy creations.

“Et voilà! Katsuki’s extra fluffy and freshly prepared pancakes...hope you’ll enjoy them” he announced in a warm tone and kissed your cheek. 

Looking at these soft goddesses you couldn’t help but lick your lips in anticipation, but you decided to wait for your beloved to join you so that you could dig in at the same time. It took a short while to persuade the blond who insisted that you start without him so that he could enjoy your blissful expression, but he yielded in the end.

His red eyes studied your positive reaction to the warm breakfast he’d prepared and a loving smile adorned his lips as he listened to the countless positive comments you uttered in regards to it.

Good thing I managed to escape her grasp this morning, ‘cause this expression is so worth it.

While you happily ate one bite after the other, Bakugou recalled today’s morning and how you had subconsciously wrapped your arms around his body and were cuddling up to him. The temptation to just lie there with you and shower your face with kisses until you woke up on your own was truly big, but he repeatedly told himself that your expression when you met him in the kitchen would be ten times cuter and more satisfying...and he was right.

“Hey (Y/N)...I love you, I really do” he said in a silent and almost soothing voice as he gently wiped off some crumbs from the corner of your mouth. You looked at him with slightly widened eyes. Your husband wasn’t that good with words as some so you often had to read between the lines and yet, this time you knew exactly what brought this sudden confession on.

The interview…

After swallowing that small bite of pancake which you’d been chewing on for a tad too long, you got up and walked around the edges of the island that separated you from your loved one.

The blond seemed to follow your line of thought and got up from his chair as well, already spreading his arms and readying himself for your embrace. When you were standing face to face with him you instinctively went for a hug and squeezed him as hard as you could while he placed his forehead on your shoulder and took in your pleasant smell.

It was at times like these where the thoughtfulness of your usually brash and impudent husband came to light and managed to cosy you along with his actions rather than his words. 

While you were clinging onto his shirt the trash bin at the corner of your kitchen caught your eye and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you recognized the familiar and slightly wadded front page of a certain magazine… 

[gyllousos]

This Is How It Ends

A/N: AOT fanfic, Zeke Yeager x OC

Word count: 2k

Copyright @gyllousos 2022. All rights reserved.

“Ollie…”

Her neck snapped at the familiar nickname, the name she had begun to despise for years. It shouldn’t have held as much meaning but whenever he spoke it out loud she went weak, wanting cry more out of frustration than happiness. She wanted to punch him, gouge his eyes out. Kick him in his crotch.

Instead nothing. Olivia Leonhart had not planned on meeting Zeke Yeager ever again after leaving, running away as he had put it. For all those years Olivia was finally able to forget Zeke and put him out of her mind, her blood, her soul. She was finally able to sleep at night without seeing him in her dreams. She finally was able to stop crying.

Funny how fate works. It was pure accident—if said accident was a torrent of blood and screams from a fellow soldier Zeke had finished off. She’d been watching him—immediately knew that was him in his Titan form because of those damn eyes, abs the simple gesture of his finger scratching his ear. Her heart nearly sunk into the pit of her stomach.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t blink. Before she knew it Zeke’s colossal hand gently picked her up as though she were going to crumble. She sat in the palm of his hand, her eyes never left his grotesque face. Her lips moved, if he could hear he hung onto ever word as though this would surely be the last they saw the other.

The universe could be a funny thing, random yet unfortunate events. Ollie nearly fell back on her ass. This time she and Zeke were face to face, her trying not to drop her cup of tea, him trying not to grab her arms, shaking her. Self composure was keeping her from beating his face in. She tried to calm her thundering heart beat. If the damn organ didn’t burst out of her chest first.

“Don’t call me that..” she told him, meeting his eyes finally. She’d been tracing his features, her blue eyes someway saddened . Why? She ruined the years they could have had…but wasn’t he aware that was just a dream?

“Olivia. It’s been a long time. I missed you,” he whispered. But what was that underlying tone beneath?

Her rattling hands put the saucer and cup on the table separating them, her face colored red.

“Come here,” he said softly. Olivia urned her head, narrowing her eyes. Come here? He sat up, resting his forearms on his knees and waiting, while Olivia hifted on her feet. He was always playing games. She didn’t trust him. But the temptation to engage was too great. He was right.

She was getting good at it, and she kind of liked it, too. Olivia took slow steps, holding up her chin to steel herself . When she reached him, he placed a hand on her hip and pulled her in between his legs. She gasped as he fell back against the sofa again, pulling her in with him. Olivia shot her hands out, planting them on both sides of his head on the back of the couch, keeping myself upright as I leaned into him.

“I missed you…you were always on my mind…” he breathed out, holding her hips with both hands now.

“You have too.” Olivia closed her mouth and shook her head, looking down at him with a challenge. “I know it did,” he maintained, a fire in his eyes. “Did you think I couldn’t see how tense your body would get or how your nipples got hard through your shirt when you saw me? You’re a little twisted. Admit it.”

Olivia folded her lips between her teeth, turning her head away. But then he tipped his chin up and caught her nipple between his teeth through her top, and she closed my eyes, letting out a small cry. Oh, God! The heat of his mouth swooped into her stomach as he released her nipple and then snatched it up again, dragging it out between his teeth.

“Get off me!”

All he did was laugh, though, and Olivia’s face fell. He grabbed her arm and threw her down onto her stomach and came down on my back, pinning her to the couch.

Olivia breathed hard and fast, feeling his cock press against her ass.

“Ollie…” Zeke teased her nickname, making her despise him.

“Fuck you Yeager!”

Olivia shook her head, ready to flip him over abs gut punch him. But then he put his hand over her mouth, forced his hand between her and the couch, and dived into her pants, sliding his fingers inside her. Olivia let out a muffled scream.

Fuck!

Olivia squirmed and tried to reach out my arms but he released the rest of his weight on her , pushing her down to where she could barely breathe. “Shhh…” he cooed. He brought his fingers out of her pussy and began rubbing them over her clit so slow and so soft Olivia couldn’t help but shake.

“Hush Ollie,” he whispered again, but this time his voice was thick and wet like he was fucking her. He removed his hand from her mouth, and she licked her lips, swallowing the dryness and trying to find her voice. Olivia’s heart thundered in her ears, and she winced, holding back the groan she wanted to let out at what his fingers were doing to her.

“Your pussy is so fucking wet.” He drew out his fingers, swirling their wetness around her clit in quick circles. “So soft and tight.”

When he removed his fingers from her pussy—she nearly protested when he flipped her over. No words needed. He tasted his fingers, swallowing the taste of her , never looking away. Silently Olivia removed her top, the tank top, her bra disposed of. It was Zeke who helped her with her socks, shoes, pants and panties.

He couldn’t stop looking at her, she was so damn beautiful. And one pure thing he’d ever had. Zeke stripped of his clothes.

With his body, he covered hers. His thighs felt like marble against her thighs. His skin shone like polished gold. His lips tasted as sweet as the wine and she drank deep of him.

She wound her arms around his neck and he dug his fingers deep into her hair, bending her body back, baring her neck. He kissed the hollow of her throat, bit her collarbone and shoulder. With his knees he forced her thighs apart. He grasped her clitoris between his thumb and forefinger and she flinched from the marriage of pain with pleasure.

Zeke dusted kisses across the sensitive skin of her chest. Under his mouth her heart pounded, her blood throbbed. Zeke needed to stay in control as much as possible. The more helpless she was, the more he would feel compelled to protect her. She inhaled as Zeke licked the tip of her right nipple. He brought his mouth down on her breast and sucked gently as he teased her left nipple with his fingers. Olivia couldn’t do much but arch her back to offer more of her breasts to him. He moved his mouth to her left nipple. Heat gathered in her breasts and melted through her stomach, settling into her hips. She wanted him inside her. No, not wanted, needed.

“Please, sir…” she begged. “Please what?” He raised his head and cocked his eyebrow at her as if amused she would even dare beg for anything. “I want you.”

“You have me.” “I want you inside me.” “I’m always inside you, Little Oliie.” Olivia entertained a brief fantasy of stabbing him in the neck. But then he moved his lips to her mouth again.

“I want you to come for me. I need you as wet as possible before I enter you. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” She started to breathe heavier as Zeke pressed the heel of his hand in deeper. He dipped two fingers into her vagina before pressing his now wet fingertips against her clitoris. Desire engulfed her as he made tight circles on the swollen knot of flesh. Her hips rose off the couch and she went still underneath him. Her entire body locked up before exploding with pleasure. Her vagina clenched and released rapidly, fluttering inside her and pressing against nothing. She couldn’t wait to come around him, to let him feel her own pleasure on his body.

“Good girl,” he said, brushing a lock of hair off her forehead. He kissed her nipples again as she recovered from her orgasm. He sucked leisurely, lazily, at them as if he intended to spend all night lying between her breasts.

Zeke kissed the valley between her breasts and his lips traveled down her stomach and over her hips. He nipped her hip bone with his teeth and the moment the pain registered, Søren moved between her thighs. Olivia tiffened as he licked her, kissed her, made love to her with his mouth

. “Fuck…” she groaned, unable to contain herself. She hadn’t expected him to go down on her. He’d said he would pleasure her but this act seemed almost submissive to her as he knelt between her legs. But then he increased the pressure on her clitoris with his tongue and he pushed in two fingers and rubbed that soft hollow on the front wall inside her. He mastered her with his mouth. With his fingers he spread her folds so wide, exposing the entrance to her body. She couldn’t hide from him. He saw all of her, all her most secret places. He licked her clitoris again and again, and when she came, she clenched at his lips and fingers. He rose up and kissed her. She tasted herself on his mouth and couldn’t get enough of it.

She looked up and saw Zeke’s yes were closed. His long, unnaturally dark eyelashes lay against his cheeks. The veins in his strong arms and shoulders quivered as he held himself over her. He started to speak.

He murmured the words like a prayer. She raised her head and pressed a kiss against his throat, her most favorite part of his body, the part hidden by his collar. The final words of his prayer she understood.

I love you.

“I love you,” he said, and the words rose like a banner over the couch. With her eyes half-closed, she felt the world falling asleep around her. She heard music somewhere in the distance. Olivia buried her head in the hollow between Zeke’s chin and shoulder.

With one thrust, he pushed inside her.

Beneath Zeke she moaned and cried, her face buried against his chest. He cradled the back of her head as she wept tears of agony and surrender. He didn’t pull out of her, didn’t apologize. He held himself still, but inside her he pulsed as her vagina stretched and strained to take all of him into her.

He penetrated her until it seemed as if his entire body filled hers to the breaking point. Each slow, controlled thrust stretched her open wide, tearing the gate that would keep him out of her. She wanted it gone, wanted everything between them gone forever. His hand found her hand and he locked their fingers together as he rose up and pushed in again. She braced for pain but instead felt a deep stab of pleasure. Her eyes flew open at the shock of it, so carnal, so animal. With a cry she pushed her hips into his again and again.

He thrust so hard into her she stopped breathing. He thrust again just as hard and she exhaled once more. She writhed underneath him, writhed and thrashed. Her inner walls throbbed against him. He pulled out and pushed in again as he teased her clitoris, dragging her close to a climax again.

He lingered inside her after coming, devouring her mouth with his. At last he pulled out and blood and semen rushed out, pooling underneath her. Once more Zeke knelt between her thighs. He lapped at her sore inner lips, at her still throbbing clitoris. She rose up again and crashed once more. When Zeke kissed her this time, she tasted blood. He pushed his fingers into her tender opening. Soon he mounted her again, entered her again, fucked her again. Their first time might have had pretensions of lovemaking. The second time he didn’t bother with any of the niceties of civilized sex. He fucked her brutally, unapologetically, fucked her like he would never have another chance to fuck her again this side of heaven and hell, and he would make the most of it even if it killed them both.

When she awoke the next morning, the sun had joined her in bed. Olivia flinched as she stretched against the sheets. Her shoulders and back ached as if she’d been stretched on a rack. Her breasts and nipples were sore and swollen. Inside she was bruised and raw. She couldn’t recall ever being in this much pain. It was the best morning of her life.

Without even looking she knew Zeke was gone. She didn’t care. This was always how it ended.