#i’m just like…BLIMEY

[liliana-von-k]

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[algae-tm]

SUMMER LOVIN’

Charles Leclerc x Reader

You and Charles fall in love in St.Lucia (one shot)

Warnings: none?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

INSTAGRAM

youruser

liked by yourbffuser, and 124 others

youruser: you think you just fell out of a coconut tree???🥥

view all comments

yourbffuser: HELLO??!! Who is the man????

- youruser: what man?

- yourbffuser: now i KNOW you aren’t serious. in the second pic!!!!

- youruser: oh him… that’s pookie 😋🤭

- yourbffuser: count your motherfuckin days

yoursisteruser: you collect white men like pokemon smh

- youruser: gotta catch ‘em all!! 😏😤

-yoursisteruser: sigh

charles_leclerc just posted

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charles_leclerc: St. Lucia 🌊☀️

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user1: why is he so boyfriend coded in the 2nd pic?

- user2: don’t be alarmed bestie but it might have something to do with the literal girl he’s holding hands with in the 3rd pic…

landonorris: is this what the youth call a soft launch?

-charles_leclerc: you are the youth

carlossainz55: ay who’s the girl?

— charles_leclerc: No one and everyone

— user1: wtf does this mean 😭 😭

— user5: why is this simultaneously the dumbest yet most romantic thing I’ve ever read, and I have a boyfriend 😭

— user6: girl- tell your boyfriend to step up or leave him… the bar is in literal hell. — user7: bro releases a couple songs and thinks he’s cool and mysterious

youruser just posted

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youruser: cute solo travel idea- get a man to take you places

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yourbffuser: two posts with the same guy? I fear we’ve lost her

- youruser: NOOOO I’m still a bad bitch, I’m licensed and everything!!

- yoursisteruser: heartbreaker turns into lover girl… story for the ages

yoursisteruser: who is he???? Your fans want to know!!

—youruser: just a cute monegasque

—yoursisteruser: is that a cheese or something?

— youruser: a place apparently… he gets stroppy when I call him French 🤷🏾‍♀️

charles_leclerc just posted

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charles_leclerc: summer lovin’ happened so fast

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user4: two posts with what I’m guessing is the same girl… please twitter users starts sleuthing!!

— user5: or, hear me out, bit of a wild suggestion, just let them be?

— user3: do you think they were together b4, or he found her on holiday??

— user4: wait holdup I didn’t even think of the possibility that this could be just a vacation romance you’re so right @user3

— user5: why do I even bother with these people

pierregasly: day 67895 of asking you to tell me who she is!!

— user53: lmao Pierre is one of us confirmed

— user43: close! He actually knows Charles personally so no he isn’t one of you

— user53: now what did I do to you? 😭

youruser just posted

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youruser: bye bye bye you were bigger than the whole sky…

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yourbffuser: oh pooks

yoursisteruser: glad to know you have a heart

— youruser: bite me

— yourbffuser: time and place, bestie @yoursisteruser

MESSAGES

SIX MONTHS LATER

MESSAGES

3 MONTHS LATER

INSTAGRAM

charles_leclerc just posted

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charles_leclerc: mine mine mine mine mine mine mine

(tagged youruser)

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lewishamilton: nice to see it brother! You know what they say

— youruser: once you go black!

— lewishamilton: I was gunna say the course of true love never did run smooth…

— youruser: mine works better!!

— user4: lmao she’s hilarious

— user5: and just as chaotic as Charles 😭 they’re made for eachother

—user6: idk I think he needs someone more introverted… she’s attention seeking (this user was blocked by charles_leclerc)

—charles_leclerc: blocked 🤭😙

—youruser: my man, my man, my man!

landonorris: she’s gorgeous

— charles_leclerc: why do you live to cause me distress??

georgerussell63: blimey, was only yesterday you told us you never got her number

— maxverstappen1: very stupid

— danielricciardo: Max be nice

— maxverstappen1: sorry

carlossainz55: well done cabron!

youruser: mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine

arthur_leclerc: she’s lovely

— charles_leclerc: isn’t she just

•••••••••••••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee

@callsignwidow

@a-beaverhausen

@emryb

@c0deincrazy

@dontworryaboutitokie

@c-losur3

@chuxk-lerclerk

@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

[yesterdayiwrote]

I love that George had to gift something fashionable to a fashion guy when he's errr... let's say classical in his own dressing ways (I prefer him in sweats and puma cargos though, so I'm not a great judge myself I guess lol) and he clearly went for something safe and useful to not shit the bed hahaha (I'm sure Lewis pranked him like his usual when he asked for help, and you can bet he did)

Look, I like that boy a lot but he is annually DIRE at gift giving in Secret Santa and this year he did not break that streak 😭😂

He has gifted, in order, an extra wide wing mirror (as a gag gift to Alex), a mug heater with a UK plug (for Valtteri, which I can see the logic cos he likes coffee, but dude COME ON 🫣) and novelty Christmas socks (and a Christmas dinosaur decoration) to Guanyu who, let’s be honest, is never putting his feet near them 😂

That being said, he’s had pretty dire gifts in return (a novelty Xmas golf jumper, a t shirt of his own chest and a Brazil drum that I can only assume Esteban got at the airport as he was leaving São Paulo because he’d forgotten 😂)

Absolute chaos tbh and I hope he continues doing it because honestly, it’s actually fucking hilarious

[beiasluv]

gala shenanigans | o. piastri (81)

a/n: bork bork bork bork HAVE YOU SEEN LILY??? WOW. MOTHER.

yourinsta

liked by landonorris, logansargeant and 701,181 others

yourinsta ROOKIE OF THE YEAR‼️‼️‼️‼️😝

view all 172,082 comments

oscarpiastri ❤️❤️❤️

username THE MOST EXPRESSION OSCAR EVER HAD ONLINE

username so you don’t have twitter…

username okay? three hearts. THATS THREE RED MF HEARTS

landonorris new mclaren instagram???

mclaren 😔

username NOT YN BEING MORE EXCITED FHAN MCLAREN THEMSELF

username THIS. THIS IS RHE PICTURE.

username yn gets it.

username PERIODDDD

username EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU MISS GURL

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username A 100 PERCENT 😭

yourinsta’s story

reply

landonorris: are you drunk???

: im noy

landonorris: OMG?

landonorris: I’m buying drinks for both of you from now on

: BET

: thid is os, were nof. Get awsy

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, georgerussell63 and 816,017 others

oscarpiastri can you hold me like you hold your trophy? yourinsta 😋

view all 361,711 comments

yourinsta HE POSTED ME!!? 😍

oscarpiastri SHE REPLIED? 😉

username oscar in his FANGIRL ERAAAA

username he has always been. fight me 🤭

logansargeant do me a favor and log off

yourinsta YOU logg offt

landonorris WHY IS ZAK TEXTING ME

mclaren WE JUST WANT TO TALK

georgerussell63 Toto’s calling

oscarpiastri me or my wife

yourinsta HE MY HUSBAND????

georgerussell63 Blimey.

username I WANNA THANK WHO EVER THE FUCK WAS ON THAY TABLE AND GOT THEM DRUNK ASF

username I lowkey don’t want it to be checo cause I cannot be caught lacking and liking him 😔😔✊

username it’s definitely the fia.

username GURL FR

username MCLAREN AND MERCEDES ARE LVOING AND SCARING THE SHIT OUT OF THE PR

yourinsta

liked by francisca.cgomes, lilymhe and 651,280 others

yourinsta who was that girl last night? 😭😔

view all 132,916 comments

oscarpiastri idk but I’d like to take her home again

yourinsta OMG?? 🫠

username so THIS is oscar. 🫢

mclaren we still love you ynn 🧡🧡

yourinsta send my apologies 😭😭😭😔

useraname NOT THE WAGS SUPPORTING THE ULTIMATE GIRLS GIRL

username as they shouldddd

oscar’s my pookie and he deservedddd

interacting anyway would be greatly appreciated cuz I love y'all 🫢

today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

[ellecdc]

A Man With a Plan.2

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

CW: angst, smoking, mention of vomiting, Remus spiralling, Peter being v worried, James being a doting mother hen, Sirius being a cheeky bastard.

Remus didn’t stay in potions that day.

He gave Professor Slughorn a hasty excuse and beelined it from the room, earning him bemused stares from Peter, James, and Sirius. He couldn’t stay there – he couldn’t breathe the air you’d been breathing – it hurt, it burned, it was too much. 

“What the hell is wrong with me?” He huffed to himself as he shakily made his way to Gryffindor tower. He held his hand to his chest the whole way, heaving as if he was close to throwing up – he wasn’t fully convinced he that wouldn’t. 

As soon as he walked into (stumbled into) his dorm he flung the window open and shoved his head (most of his torso) out of the window – hungry for fresh air. The change in temperature and slight breeze did calm him slightly, but now he could hear Moony with renewed fervor. 

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. He seemed to be whimpering morosely. 

“She’s not yours.” Remus grumbled. That seemed to aggravate Moony somewhat, as well as piss himself off for talking aloud to...well...himself, sort of? 

He hated this. 

Remus sat half out the window drinking water and chain-smoking until his roommates returned from their final class. 

“What the fuck happened to you, Moons?” Sirius asked as he threw his book bag onto his bed before beginning to strip out of his uniform.

“Fucked if I know.” He grumbled, throwing the butt of his cigarette out the window. 

“You feelin’ alright?” James asked, brows furrowed as if Remus was a particularly difficult arithmancy problem.

“I think it’s quite clear that I’m not.” He spat as he pulled out another cigarette and lit it with the snap of his fingers.

“Blimey, Moony. Wasn’t the full moon last week?” Sirius asked incredulously.

It was too much, all of it: the nickname, the moon talk, their voices. The hearth in the room surged and then extinguished again; Remus was officially diminished to accidental magic like he was some kind of unruly toddler. 

“Shit, Remus. Relax, okay? We’re sorry.” James placated, watching his mate cautiously as Remus took some steadying breaths.

“What’s gotten into you mate?” Sirius asked quietly after Remus appeared to calm himself.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t feel like...myself.” He settled for, trying to drown out Moony’s pathetically forlorn howling in the back of his mind. 

“Alright.” James said. “That’s alright.” 

Remus wanted to vomit. Is that not what you had just said to him a few hours ago?

 “Do you need to go to see Pomfrey?” Peter asked.

“No.” Maybe.

“Alright, well we’ll bring you something up for dinner.” He offered with a smile. Remus felt like he should return the smile, but he couldn’t bring himself to try. 

Remus did eventually go to see Madame Pomfrey, though he kept the full extent of his current predicament to himself. He trudged through the halls, hating the fact that Moony seemed to pick up on your scent, signifying you had been down this hall yourself at some point during the day. 

Must go. Must go. Must go. Moony begged.

Go to Madame Pomfrey and then to bed. Remus mentally berated the wolf - the wolf growled in discontent. Remus was becoming increasingly worried about what he’d be like near the full when Moony was closer to the forefront of Remus’ control. 

Remus claimed nerves and a migraine as the cause of his request for sleeping draught for the night. The matron narrowed her eyes at Remus, clearly aware the boy wasn’t being entirely honest, but acquiesced to his request nonetheless. 

Remus supposed he probably should have requested a dreamless sleep potion instead.

His dreams were littered with images of you. Some were lovely – you and him walking hand-in-hand through bookstores and flower shops, sharing milkshakes and ice cream, snuggling up near the fire, as well as some...steamier dreams. But they were always chased away by horrible ones – you being chased by The Wolf, you finding out about him and running away terrified, you being bitten, you being killed. And those were always followed by his friends becoming disgusted with him, abandoning him, him ending up in Azkaban.

They made him sick.

Literally made him sick; he woke up with a start and bodied James on his way to the bathroom to eject last night’s supper out of his system. 

“Moons, what’s going on mate?” James asked quietly, clearly having been getting ready for a run before he was bulldozed by his mate, as Remus moved to the sink and readied his toothbrush.

“Please don’t call me that.” Remus moaned.

James seemed to consider him for a few moments before he spoke again.

“Is Moo- is the wolf giving you problems?” He corrected at the glare he was shot by Remus.

Remus sighed and nodded his head.

“Can’t be moon sickness? You’ve got three weeks.”

Remus finished brushing his teeth and rinsed his mouth out before turning to look at James.

“I don’t know. I think...” but he didn’t know how to finish his sentence. How did he explain that Moony has apparently become obsessed with and hyper-fixated on one of James’ best friends and was actively campaigning to have Remus thrown into the psych ward at St. Mungo’s? “When you guys were researching on how to become animagi, you were first doing research on werewolves, right?” 

James responded by nodding his head in the positive.

“What’d you find? On werewolves, I mean.” Remus asked.

James grimaced. “Next to nothing, really; we found books and books full of anti-werewolf propaganda before we found anything even remotely helpful.”

“What book was it? The helpful one.”

“There was one line in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that said werewolves solely target human prey and are less interested in other animals as opposed to ‘true’ wolves.” James said.

Remus sighed and nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

“What’s going on?” James tried again. 

Remus just shook his head at this friend. “I don’t know yet, I’ll see what I find.”

“You don’t have to do this alone; you know? You’ve got us here.” James said as he followed Remus out of the bathroom.

“I know Prongs. I’ll let you know if I need anything.” Remus said with a tired smile. He was lucky, really, he knew that. He had wonderful friends – he’d do anything to keep them.

Which just meant keeping Moony away from you. 

Unfortunately for Remus, James had been right; the only useful information he could find in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that a) he didn’t already know or b) wasn't prejudiced or incorrect was the line James had referenced. 

“The main difference is in the way they behave; a werewolf is very aggressive in comparison to a true-wolf; they prefer and target human prey, seemingly uninterested in other animals. Though some rumours claim that werewolves will create bonds with animals and other wolves: ‘were’ or ‘true’.”

Remus was ready to give up when he noticed a footnote at the bottom of the page: 

(22) From an unknown author’s first-hand account of lycanthropy in Hairy Snout, Human Heart: 1737. 

He looked through the works cited section of the text and found the book, which appeared to be an autobiography of an unnamed wizard afflicted with lycanthropy from the 18th century. Remus knew the chances of him finding that book in the Hogwarts library were slim to none. Now I’ll have to wait until the next Hogsmeade weekend to try Tomes & Scrolls. 

Remus (unwillingly) learned a lot about you as he (impatiently) awaited for the next Hogsmeade weekend. 

You had a single dimple on your left cheek that only ever appeared when you smiled brightly. Granted, since you were generally soft around all of your edges, it didn’t appear too often. But it was almost guaranteed to make at least one appearance during every one of your interactions with James.

He hated the both of you. 

You hummed. A lot. Sometimes to the tunes of songs Remus could recognize, sometimes to tunes he was sure you’ve made up. It was always quiet humming, and only ever when you were focused intently on a task. It sounded lovely and was almost always accompanied by your tongue poking out slightly between your lips. 

He hated it. 

You always had some piece of nature on your person. Either grass from having been sat on the grounds, dirt on your hands from your time in the greenhouses, a flower tucked into a pocket or – God forbid – your hair. It was sort of adorable.

He hated that even more.

You made a soft tingling or jingling sound as you walked and moved on account of the many beaded bracelets decorating your wrists. It wasn’t just the sound of the jewelry – because Sirius was similar with his many pieces of silver jewelry decorating his person – but the sound was distinctly yours. And Remus Moony seemed to be able to pick it up from yards away. 

It was awful.

You also smelled heavenly. You were lavender blowing in the sea breeze, eucalyptus in a steamy shower, and the fresh grass you seemed to drag in every time you stepped outside. There was also something about you that smelled so distinctly you that drove him mad. He could pick up your scent anywhere.

And that was the worst part.

You were everywhere.

He’d been actively avoiding you since that fateful day in potions, and he still couldn’t escape you. Even if he couldn’t see you, he could hear you and your damned jingles or gentle giggles at something James said to you. And even if you weren’t there, he could still smell that you had been, and then he’d be stuck with Moony’s incessant whining for the rest of the day that they’d ‘just missed you’.

Remus hated it. He hated you for existing. He hated James for befriending you. But he mostly hated himself.

He hated that he got so angry about this; he hated that part of him blamed you for the horrible crime of having been born and that another part of him blamed James for the equally horrible crime of being kind.

He was the problem - Remus and his damned affliction. He just didn’t understand what Moony’s issue was; Remus (and Moony) had met many people throughout his life – Moony even had his own pack, for god’s sake! – what was so special about you to bring about this nonsense?

You seemed either completely unaware or completely unafflicted by Remus’ sudden coldness to you. There were times he’d stopped speaking midsentence when you’d show up or he would out-and-out walk away. James had clearly been annoyed with him about it, but you were still never anything but kind towards him. He was simultaneously grateful to you for it and peeved you were giving him more reasons to like you. 

James - still being slightly miffed with his mate for his abruptness towards you – was more than happy to leave him to search Tomes & Scrolls whilst he and Sirius and Peter went to The Three Broomsticks without him. Sirius shot him a confused look while Peter smiled at him sympathetically as they hobbled off after James.

They didn’t have the book he was looking for, but they were able to order it via owl and advised him they’d have it delivered straight to Hogwarts for him. 

Reluctantly resigning to his fate that he’d have to wait even longer to find answers, he exited the shop when he slammed into something with a solid oof.

He, being the lanky, larger-than-he-looks werewolf that he was, was able to shake off the collision with little-to-no effort.

You, on the other hand.

You.

Moony started howling in horror when Remus saw you leaning up onto your elbows from the cold cobblestoned road that Remus himself just knocked you into. 

“Oh, shit Y/N, are you alright?” He breathed as he hastily reached out his hand to help you up.

Big mistake.

Moony stopped howling and started nearly singing with joy when your skin met his. Prepared for the burning/cold/pain/joy/fear he experienced last time you made contact with him; he was surprised when he only felt peace wash through his person.

Time seemed to slow as you used his support to stand back up again and offer him a breezy smile. 

“I’m terribly sorry about that, Remus. Are you alright?” You asked as if you had just bodied him into the ground.

“I – uh, yes. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” He asked as he shook his head in confusion.

“Oh, I’m alright. I’m no stranger to spending time on the ground – I’m really quite clumsy you know.” You explained solemnly. He breathed a small laugh at your self-degradation. 

“Well, it likely doesn’t help to have a big oaf act as a brick wall when you’re only trying to shop.”

You smiled so sweetly that Remus, the damn sod, couldn’t help but return it. Lo-and-behold, your dimple made an appearance. Moony (and Remus, reluctantly) relished in the fact that he was the one to elicit that wide a smile from you. 

“That’s alright Remus. If you hadn’t, I might not have had a chance to apologize to you.”

Remus’ heart went to exit through his feet.

“Apologize? To me?” he asked. 

You nodded. “I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”

It was weird that Remus could feel his heart crack painfully since it had already exited his body – but it stung anyway.

“You – you’re not... you haven’t done anything, Dove.” He said as he wiped a hand down his face, the pet-name slipping from his lips without his consent. “It’s me. I promise. I’m a freak.”

You offered him a simple smile, though your eyes seemed to ooze sympathy. “I’ve been told I’m quite odd myself.”

Remus chuckled. “Who told you that? Tell them I want to talk.”

You seemed slightly confused but laughed at his response nonetheless. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to figure out how to end this interaction while also mourning the coming loss of it. “Sorry for knocking you over, Y/N.” He offered quietly as he moved to walk away.

“Thank you for helping me up, Remus.” You responded with a smile as you entered Tomes & Scrolls. 

Moony whined at his loss of your company.

Remus whined at Moony’s input.  

True to the clerk’s word, a package arrived for Remus that week over breakfast in the Great Hall.

“What? Don’t you have enough books already, Moons?” Sirius asked with a smirk as he shovelled another spoon of cereal into his mouth. Remus responded with a (loving) two-fingered salute.

Remus had somewhat relaxed since your last encounter – there was no sense in punishing himself or you for Moony’s erratic behaviour, and he was sure he’d been driving his friends barmy with his mood swings. There was nothing for him to do except wait for more answers. And said answers were just delivered to him via owl.

“What are you reading now?” Peter asked as he tried to peer at Remus’ new book.

“It’s not a novel, Wormy. This is research.” He corrected.

“Gonna find out why you’re such a wanker?” Sirius snarked as he dodged a piece of bacon Remus threw at him.

“Okay, well, don’t waste food.” Peter chided quietly, looking disturbingly close to picking up said bacon from the ground. 

“Hanging out with the lot of you seems to have finally done me in, Pads.” Remus snarked back as he vanished the piece of bacon vexing Peter. 

James nodded solemnly. “Fair enough, honestly.” 

Remus quickly tucked his new book into his bag before moving to stand.

“Where are you going?” Peter asked as he looked at Remus with ill-hidden concern.

“To the library. Gonna do some research.” He answered plainly as he patted his book bag.

“Rem,” James called out to him, causing him to pause his retreat and turn to him. “you don’t have to do this alone, right?” he continued more quietly. 

Remus offered him a grateful smile. “I know Prongs, I’ll get back to you with my findings.”

Remus did noy know how he was going to report his findings back to his friends. This can’t have been it, can it? This isn’t what’s plaguing Remus? This can’t be real... There must be more...missing pages...

“...another version of lunar magic I’ve discovered in my travels - though extremely uncommon - is what some have called a ‘mating spark’. Along with the powerful lunar magic that drives the full-moon transformations and the surge of power it provides magical beings (wizards, witches, wix), there appears to be ‘soulmate’ magic involved with lycanthropy. Long been reduced to myth and lore within wizarding society, it appears the magic of soulmates may in fact be leftover knowledge from werewolf folktales.  “The initial ‘spark’ is reported to be painful and distressing. After the initial connection is made, the wolf will become fixated on their mate. The lycanthrope may experience longing, feelings of discomfort when apart and heightened senses surrounding their mate. It has been told to me that feelings of devotion towards the wolf’s mate does not go away, regardless of whether the lycanthrope accepts the bond or not.”

“Fuck.” Remus breathed as he dropped the book onto the table with a thud.

Mine. Moony huffed in response, as if wagging his tail singing ‘I told you so’.

This just won’t do. 

Continue to chapter three here.

Taglist: @hanniejji @y0urm0m12 @c0nsc10usworld @aphrcdites @starsval @thepunisherfrankcastle @anuncalledbridge @the-maniac-fly @unstablereader @rai-strangebr @sherry-needs-therapy, @klazina-couch-potato @cancelledkaley @fandom-crashlanding @ttulipwritezz @boo8008 

[f1version]

THE SLIP UP SERIES ★ LH44 version

pairing: lewis hamilton x singer! reader ( she/her )

summary: You and Lewis are known to be really close friends, but sometimes the adrenaline of a win or a show makes you slip up some secrets.

or these requests

note: what a busy week! but i’m finally making an appearance… for this au / version lewis wins silverstone !!

YNNATION’s tiktok page

10,726,155 views

ynnation Yesterday, Y/n confessed us #Daylight is about, long-term friend and F1 World Champion, Lewis Hamilton! Aren’t they the cutest?! 💘☀️ #TheErasTour

LEWIS HAMILTON’s team radio

lewishamilton’s insta story

lewishamilton

Liked by yourusername, mercedesamgf1 and 1,726,927 others

lewishamilton 104. This feeling, sharing it with my home, it’s everything. Thank you to everyone in my team for their unwavering support. Feels like the first one, what a dream.

Also, a very special thanks to ＠yourusername, you give me strength, we rise together, we fail to hide our relationship together. I love you forever. 💜🤞🏾

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yourusername IT WAS JUST HARD OK? i tried

lewishamilton WELL if it makes you feel better, i think i made it more obvious

yourusername “i love you baby” OF COURSE you did

mercedesamgf1 Thank you PR for giving us those last words 🙌

lewishamilton i had to BEG

yourusername oh? 👀

mercedesamgf1 yeahh oh???

yourusername You are a daylight. I love you too 💜🤞🏻

yourusername

Liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1 and 5,827,826 others

yourusername Kansas City I can’t stop loving you. Thank you for everything. All the cheering, screaming, jumping, dancing, singing at the top of your lungs. Thank you for singing "Dlaylight" with me after that little secret I told you. You were a mesmerizing crowd, love you all 💜💜💜 See you 🔜 Denver

PS Daylight is not the only song about ＠lewishamilton. Congratulations on P1, Lover. 💜🤞🏻

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lewishamilton Love you to the moon and to saturn!!!! wish we could be two places at a time 🫶🏾

yourusername Same, just don’t slip up more things 😭

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lewishamilton I JUST LOVE U

yourusername ME TOO

georgerussell63 aw blimey now i’ll have to watch you being more lovey dovey than usual 😔

mercedesamgf1 And that is a blessing, George

[ninii-winchester]

The Witch and the Hunter

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Witch!Reader

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: none, just fluff. But not proofread.

A/n: another crossover fic yayyy!!!

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

It was a lazy afternoon in the bunker and Dean was snooping around the library shelves to entertain himself, while Sam had his head buried in a book, like usual. Dean opened box after box, not finding anything worth his interest. But then he found a weird looking stone, it looked like sapphire, but bigger. It was dusty, he swiped his thumb over it thrice to clean it. Staring at it for a few seconds he didn’t deem it useful so he put back where he retrieved it from and turned to sit back down.

"Achoo." A loud sneeze was heard, and Sam glanced up to see Dean trip over something the moment he sneezed. The younger brother snickered as the older one almost slammed into a shelf in the library.

"What the hell?" Dean looked down and a pair of y/e/c eyes were staring back at him. A velvety coat of Y/h/c fur, It's sleek and smooth, lying flat against its body. The fur gleams slightly in the light, and it looks incredibly soft. "How did a cat get in here?" Dean looked at Sam with accusing eyes.

"Hey! Don't look at me like that, I didn't bring it here." Sam said standing up from his seat and Dean backed up from the creature as he sneezed again. "Hello there!" Sam approached the cat and she hissed at him. Maintaining his distance he kneeled in front of the small feline and cooed at it.

"How'd it even get in here?" Dean sneezed again, glaring at the cat for causing him an allergic reaction.

“Don’t know!” Sam shrugged, the y/h/c furry creature seemed to drop her guard a little as Sam neared her. The big y/e/c eyes blinked twice and then ran past the two men and jumped onto the tables placed in the library. Dean glared at the cat hissed back, jumping down from the table she neared him and started scratching his legs through his boots and jeans.

“Hey hey get off!” Dean slightly kicked his legs to get it off of him. Sam sighed before picking up the feline that was hissing at his brother, it struggled in his arms, wanting to be put down and Sam dropped it onto the table gently.

“Dean maybe you should go to your and it’ll calm down, then we can drop it off somewhere.” Sam suggested and the older brother nodded scowling at the cat, but leaving nevertheless. Sam watched as Dean walked down the hallway and turned back to cat and his jaw dropped when he saw a woman standing in the library with him.

“Blimey! That man was a menace.” Y/n said in a thick British accent, dusting herself slightly. Sam jumped at her voice and stared at her him shock.

“You’re…what…how?” Sam stuttered. “DEAN.” He yelled and Y/n frowned as the same man came back running at his brother’s loud voice. The green eyed man looked at her in bewilderment.

“What the fuck?” Dean exclaimed. The two brothers were now alert and were watching here every move. “Who the fuck are you?” Dean demanded.

“My name is Y/n. I’m a witch.” She replied with a unpleasant look towards Dean.

“Man I hate witches.” Dean mumbled but she heard him. With a scoffed she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You don’t like cats, you hate witches. Aren’t you a picky one, princess.” She taunted, as much as Sam didn’t want to, he let out a snort at her comment earning a sharp glare from his brother.

“How’d you get here?” Sam asked and she looked around the bunker.

“I don’t know, honestly. I was in a battle, fighting and we won. But then I felt dizzy, and it was like I was Apparating, but not by will.” She explained and Sam’s brain clicked onto something as she spoke.

“Apparating as in teleportation?” Sam asked and she nodded. Dean gave him a questioning glance. “So you’re from the wizarding world?” And she nodded again. “Wait a minute! You’re Y/n? As in Y/n Black?”

“How do you know?” Y/n got defensive.

“Would someone like to explain?” Dean snapped looking between the stranger and his brother. Y/n muttered a ‘no’.

“Dean’s she’s from the Harry Potter world.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Ofcourse you’d know, nerd.” Dean teased but then a wand was aimed the two brothers.

“How do you know Harry? And what the hell are you talking about? Who are you?” She demanded and she didn’t look like she was just threatening. She was serious and she wouldn’t hesitate to hex them.

“Hey easy with the weapons, Woman!” Dean barked and Sam sent him a look which said, ‘not-helping’.

“Look, I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean. My best guess is you’ve travelled through universes. And we know Harry because well, there are books written on him in our universe and you’re just a fictional character.” Sam explained as best as he could. He could see her contemplating whether to trust him or not. She lowered her wand, slightly.

“What books? How do I know you’re telling the truth?” She questioned warily.

“Uh well, I can tell you stuff like you’re a Sirius’ twin, you’re a Gryffindor, honorary Marauder. Lily Potter was your best friend and you had a crush on Remus.” Sam replied and Y/n gasped. She’s never told anyone that before. Not even Lily. Dean watched as Y/n expressions changed from wary to bashful.

“What? That was years ago. How’d you even know that?” A hint of blush coated her cheeks as she spoke.

“I told you there are books, it’s written in the books.” Sam replied and Dean snickered. Y/n heaved a sigh and looked around the place. “We’ll give you a minute.” Sam said dragging Dean out to the hallway.

“Man, just when I thought you couldn’t get nerdier.” Dean chuckled at his younger brother. Sam gave him a bitch face before speaking,

“So what do we think?”

“I think she’s smoking hot.” Dean grinned earning a groan from Sam. “What? I have a good taste, man. She’s feisty.”

While the brothers talked Y/n stood in the middle of the library, thinking of what to do next. She didn’t know what to do, part of her didn’t want to go back home, after the second Wizarding War, she lost everyone she held dear. Sirius, Reggie, Remus, James and Lily. Everyone is dead. What if this is her chance to start fresh and move on. Besides, Harry doesn’t need her anymore. He has his friends and Voldemort’s gone.

“Sam? Dean?” She called out and the two men came back. She shifted uncomfortably, a thought crossed her mind, she didn’t even know anything about these two beside their names. How’d they even know about magic? Are they bad people? “Do you know how did I end up here? How can I go back?” She questioned. Before Sam could speak, Dean beat him to it.

“I think I know.” He turned to his brother. “There was this blue stone, looked a sapphire but bigger and I was just messing around, I cleaned it with my thumb but maybe it accidentally activated it and brought her here.” Sam asked him where did he find it and Dean gestured to the shelf he was at before Y/n appeared. The two of them followed Dean as he reached the box he found the stone in. The green eyed hunter let out a loud growl as he noticed the box was empty. “What the fuck?”

The other two in the room look at him expectantly and he told him that the stone’s gone. A wave of defeat crashed into Y/n but part of her was relived too. She was confused as to why she was feeling that way.

“Well I guess you’ll be staying here with us for a while.” Sam commented and Y/n looked surprised.

“You live here? This place is a mess. Learn to clean after yourself, lads.” She scanned the place with her Y/e/c eyes and with a huff she pulled out her wand and muttered “Scourgify.” The books and papers laying around started flying around and positioned themselves in their respective places and the place looked good as new.

“She’s staying forever.” Dean mumbled under his breath but Sam heard.

Sam showed Y/n to a guest room she could use while she was here and left her alone for a while. When he came back he found Dean searching for the stone in other boxes of the library. A part of Dean didn’t want her to leave, and he doesn’t know why. They didn’t even start on a good note but he wants her to stay. But he wants to find the stone and leave to her to make the decision if she wanted to go back. After all he knows how important family is and he’s sure she misses hers.

“You’ve got a crush.” Sam commented dropping into a chair. Dean stayed silent, not indulging in the teasing. “Isn’t it ironic though, she’s a witch. You hate witches. And her animagus form is a cat.” Sam cackled holding his chest. “You’re allergic to cats.”

“Shut up, Sammy.” Dean replied knowing it is kind of ironic. He was definitely attracted to her. But he knew she had to go back sooner or later.

Y/n did a lot of thinking while she was left alone in her temporary room. She’d decided to stay, if the Winchesters didn’t want her to stay with them she would leave this place but she didn’t want to go back to the Wizarding world. She was all alone back there, all of her friends and family were gone. But there was another reason that she didn’t want to admit to herself. She found herself quite attracted to the green eyed man. There was some magnetic force that was pulling her towards him. And it was weird as hell since it’s only been an hour that she knows him. And all she knows is his name.

“Guys?” She called out entering the library. The two men turned their attention towards her. “I uh… I’ve gotta say something.” Dean raised his brow, quite interested to know what she had to say. “I don’t wanna go back.” Dean’s breath hitched in his throat, his heart thudding in his chest. “But I won’t be a bother to you guys I’ll leave.” She added quickly.

“What? No. Stay.” Dean spoke before he could register what he said. “I mean you’re a witch and we don’t trust you to not wreak havoc outside. You can’t go unless we say.” He said in a deep voice. Sam looked at him in amusement shaking his head.

“Who even are you?” She questioned tilting her head slightly. Dean found it extremely adorable.

“We’re hunters.” Sam replied gesturing her to take a seat. She took a seat and they explained her what hunters are. They told her all about the supernatural and how they hunt them.

“Werewolves?” Y/n pouted sadly. “You kill them too?” She was upset. Of course she was upset, her friend was lycanthrope too but that doesn’t mean he deserves to die. She didn’t like their ideology. The look on her face didn’t go unnoticed by either brother. But Dean was the one to speak.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We don’t kill the likes of your boyfriend.” She glowered at him but he remained indifferent. “More like….” Dean trailed off not knowing who to compare it with so Sam added,

“Greyback.” Dean nodded although he didn’t even know what it meant. “We believe not all creatures are bad and we only kill the ones who hurt people. We once let a werewolf go because she didn’t ask for it and she wanted to live a normal life.” He said as he thought of Kate.

“And all witches are bad in your universe?” She questioned.

“Well not all. I mean you’re here in universe and you’re not bad.” Dean winked and she blushed. He was so charming yet so infuriating. Minutes before he said he didn’t trust her to not wreak havoc and now he’s saying she’s not bad.

A month had passed since Y/n had came to this universe. She was now well versed with the hunting life and learned a lot more lore. She wasn’t allowed to go on hunts although they knew she could hold on her own. It was mostly because Dean want her to be in danger. Y/n was always confused when Dean was around. He was either too protective of her or he didn’t acknowledge her existence. If she was attracted to him at first, she’s developed a full fledged crush on him now. And she’s had enough of him giving her mixed signals. She decided to confront him about and knocked on his door. The door opened revealing Dean, clad only in his pyjamas, bare chested and his hair disheveled. Y/n gulped staring at his chest before looking back up at his face.

“What do you want?” Dean questioned his voice a bit groggy. It did something to Y/n which she wouldn’t admit out loud.

“What’s your problem?” She asked pushing past him and entering his room. “Why do you act so confusing around me? One moment you’re all protective and the next you act like I’m invisible. It’s driving me crazy.” Dean opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish.

Dean blinked, clearly caught off guard by her sudden confrontation. He rubbed a hand through his messy hair, trying to shake off the sleepiness. “Y/n, I—”

“Your constant mixed signals are making it hard to know where I stand with you.” She mumbled softly.

Dean rubbed a hand over his face before speaking, “it’s not that simple okay?” He grumbled. She glared at him with her arms crossed against her chest. He let out sigh,and looked up at her, his gaze softening. “I like you, okay? And I don’t know how to act around you.”

She stared at him, her heart racing. “So, you’re saying that you care about me but you’re not sure how to show it?”

Dean nodded slowly, a mix of frustration and vulnerability in his eyes. “Exactly. I want to be close to you, but I keep messing up. I’m trying to figure out how to be honest without making things worse.” She took a deep breath, her anger melting into a look of understanding.

“Well isn’t it a good thing that I like you too. Quite a lot.” She smiled. “You’re one of the reasons I didn’t wanna go back.” She confessed and he looked at her wide eyed.

“Really?” She nodded her head moving closer to him.

“I don’t know what it was about you, we didn’t even start on a good note, but there was something that was pulling me to you.”

“Trust me sweetheart, we would’ve started real good, had you not been a cat when we first met.” Dean smirked placing his hands on her waist.

“Why don’t you like cats?” She pouted tilting her head.

“I don’t hate them per say, I’m just allergic.” He replied with a soft smile. “And stop pouting like that if you don’t want me to kiss you sore.” Now that he knows she likes him back, he isn’t afraid to show his usual flirty self.

“Who says I don’t want you to?” She asked sneaking her arms around his neck. As he leaned down to kiss her she pulled away slightly and he gave her a confused look. “If we’re doing this, we’re getting you on allergy medication. I can’t let go of my animagus form.” Dean threw his head back as he barked out a laugh. He placed a kiss on her nose.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Dean took a deep breath, his fingers gently cupping her face as he looked into her eyes, just the two of them in this moment. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against hers. The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle exploration of newfound feelings. But as she responded, his touch deepened, growing more intense and passionate. When they finally pulled away, their breaths mingled in the small space between them, leaving an unspoken promise lingering in the air.

While the two of them hadn’t labeled their relationship yet, they navigated their feelings together, finding comfort and excitement in their shared moments. Although Dean wasn’t sure if the medication would help he tried it for her sake, after finding out Y/n sought comfort in her cat form. It did help immensely and Dean was able to be in her presence while she was in her animagus form. She would usually sleep on the library table on an open book while Sam and Dean would do their research for a hunt. Her loud purring was a comforting sound, sometimes Sam would scratch her behind the ears and she would play with him as Dean watched in adoration. Dean had a fair share of scratches over his hands and arms, while she got too excited while playing but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

The bunker door opened and footsteps were heard, Y/n craned her neck from where she was sleeping in her cat form, the fur on her body standing upright. She watched a figure descend the stairs but Sam and Dean remained nonchalant. Y/n understood the reason as a trench coat came into view and she recognised him as Castiel. She jumped off the table and landed on her four feet and gingerly walked to the angel, and jumped onto his shoulder. He was caught off guard for a moment but relaxed.

“You didn’t tell me you got a pet.” Cas said approaching the boys, while petting the feline on his shoulder. “Especially a cat. How’d you convince him Sam?” He asked gesturing to Dean. The man in question smirked at his best friend.

“That’s my girl on your shoulder, Cas.” Dean said pridefully. Y/n jumped on the table and settled in Dean’s lap before turning back to her human self. Castiel watched wide eyed and quite confused. Dean grinned placing his hands on her waist as she sat sideways on his lap.

“Hello Castiel. Nice to finally meet you.” Y/n said.

Castiel blinked, still processing the sudden transformation. “You’re… Y/n?”

Dean chuckled, his grin widening. “Yep. I told you she had a unique way of making an entrance.”

Y/n laughed softly, leaning into Dean’s embrace. “I figured it was about time I introduced myself properly. Sorry for the surprise.”

Castiel shook his head, a hint of a smile forming on his usually serious face. “It’s quite a surprise. Dean never mentioned you had such… abilities.”

Dean shrugged, still holding Y/n close. “She’s full of surprises. But trust me, she’s as amazing as she is unpredictable.”

“So Y/n, Dean tells me you’re from another universe?” Castiel asked curiously. “How’d you even get here?” Y/n shrugged before explaining, what Dean told them when she first came here. Castiel titled his head to the side, “A blue stone you say?” Dean looked inquisitive as he leaned closer. Y/n and Sam also had the same expressions.

“Do you know something Cas?” Sam questioned.

“It was a Inter-dimensional Soulstone.” Castiel said. “It’s said to be a mythical gem, which has the power to unite Soulmates. It is said to be imbued with the power to bridge the gap between parallel universes. When Dean touched it, it brought Y/n here.” Cas explained. “If Y/n had found it first in her universe, it would’ve taken Dean there.”

The three others absorbed the information Castiel provided, and Y/n felt a warm flutter in her chest at the thought of Dean being her soulmate.

Dean noticed her reaction and gently squeezed her hand. “So, what do you think?”

Y/n smiled softly, her eyes meeting his. “I think it’s pretty amazing. And I’m really glad it’s you.”

Dean grinned, a hint of relief in his eyes. “Me too. Guess we’ve got a lot of good things ahead.”

Castiel nodded, his tone lighter. “It’s a rare and special thing. Enjoy it.”

Y/n leaned in, resting her head on Dean’s shoulder. “I plan to. Thanks, Cas.”

Dean wrapped an arm around her, content. “Here’s to figuring it all out, together.” Dean tilted his head slightly and leaned in, his lips brushing gently against Y/n’s. It was a soft, brief kiss, filled with warmth and affection. When they pulled away, their smiles met, and the quiet connection between them spoke volumes.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

[obsessedwithceleste]

I Think He Knows

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

Summary: I want you, Bless my soul, And I ain’t gotta tell him, I think he knows

word count: 2.8k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

A visible shudder escapes you as you pull your thick winter coat closer, the icy winter breeze blowing past mercilessly. The carriages had dropped you and your friends off in Hogsmeade only moments ago, and as you warily eyed the snow and ice covered sidewalks, you really weren’t looking forward to the trek it would be to the Three Broomsticks.

“The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll get there I suppose,” Daphne sighs sidling up next to you, her breath fogging up the air around the two of you. You can only nod in defeat as you wait for the rest of the group to join you.

It had been a rough week. With Christmas right around the corner, exam season was in full swing and it was hitting you hard this year. Quite frankly, all you wanted was a nice, relaxing, warm afternoon with your friends.

“You girls ready to go?” A voice asks, coming to a stop next to you. You look up to see Blaise standing comfortably in nothing but a normal, everyday jumper.

“Blimey Blaise, how are you not freezing?” Daphne asks in what sounds like a combination of utter horror and astonishment.

Blaise furrows his brow at the two of you, shivering in the cold like a pair of popsicles.

“You do both realize that you’re witches, and we learned simple warming charms in third year?” He says, speaking slowly as if talking to small children.

You open your mouth to spew out a self defense, but realizing you had none, you feel your cheeks begin to redden. And not from the cold. You quickly mutter a warming charm, immediately relaxing from the soothing warmth that slowly encapsulates you as Blaise does the same for Daphne before offering her his arm.

“Did everyone else get lost on their way out of the carriages?” Daphne asks, taking Blaise’s arm and extending her neck to look at the carriages behind you with bewilderment.

“Well, Draco said this morning at breakfast that he and Pansy wouldn’t be joining us this afternoon, he’s taking her to Puddifoot’s I think.” Blaise begins, listing your friends off on his fingers. “Matt and Theo are spending the day in detention for hexing that group of Gryffindors yesterday, so that just leaves-“

“I’m here! Sorry, some of the third years weren’t sure how to get to Honeydukes so I had to stop to give them directions,” another voice interrupts, jogging to join your group.

You immediately perk up, hearing the syrupy, sweet voice of Lorenzo Berkshire. Turning slightly, you see the handsome brunette coming to a stop next to you, greeting your small group with a lopsided grin.

“Ah, ever the knight in shining armor, aren’t you Enzo?” Daphne quips, giving Blaise a rather pointed look.

Apparently deciding to ignore the girl’s obvious jab at him, Blaise just sighs and begins pulling her in the direction of the Three Broomsticks. Enzo quickly follows and you pick your way after them, careful to trace Enzo’s footsteps in the snow. After a minute of walking, Enzo seems to realize that you were lagging behind the trio and slows his steps to synchronize with yours.

“You alright love?” He asks, capturing your hand in his and giving it a tight squeeze as the two of you continued your journey.

If not for Enzo’s natural fondness of physical touch, you’d almost think the boy knew of the festering crush you’d recently developed. Luckily for you however, it was not uncommon for Enzo’s hand to find its way to yours, nor was it uncommon for you to be hugged, or even cuddled by the affectionate boy. The boy’s seeming need to shower you with constant attention was just one of the many reasons you wanted to see what was under that cheeky attitude of his. Bless your soul.

You offer a small shrug, pushing the wandering thoughts of your brown haired friend to the side.

“Just had a stressful week I suppose. That transfiguration exam we had yesterday was absolutely brutal. Feels like it just sapped the life out of me,” you tell him, looking down at your intertwined fingers as Enzo begins to softly rub comforting circles on the back of your hand.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” the brunette says, throwing his head back dramatically, “I was up so late studying for that, and I probably still barely passed. Don’t know how I’ve managed to make it this far in that course.”

You nod solemnly in agreement.

“God, Daph and I were so out of it this afternoon, Blaise had to remind us that warming charms exist. Warming charms. Truly humbling.”

Enzo laughs, eyes shining and looking down at you with what almost seems like adoration and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“How much further is it? Seems like we’ve been walking forever.” Daphne asks as the two of you catch up to her and Blaise.

“Broomsticks is right on 16th avenue. Should just be another block,” Enzo replies easily, pointing to the next street over.

“We’ve only been there a thousand times Daph,” you laugh as your group hurries the rest of the way to the small pub.

The bell over the door rings quietly as you enter and you give a small wave to Rosmerta who stands behind the bar. You shuffle over to your usual booth in a quieter section of the pub and slide into the seat. Enzo follows close behind, wrapping an arm around you as his hand finds a comfortable spot to rest on your hip.

The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Daphne who raises a brow, cocking her head at you as if to ask, “did it finally happen?” You give her a small shake of the head, no, as Rosmerta walks over to take your orders.

“And what can I get you lot today?” She asks with a warm smile.

“Just two butter beers for us,” Blaise says, gesturing to himself and Daphne who had made herself comfortable in the nook of his arm.

“And one hot cocoa and a butter beer for us please,” Enzo finishes with his signature grin that could melt anyone’s heart. “Oh, and just a water as well if I could,” he adds.

With a nod, Rosmerta turns to take your order to the bar.

“So. What are everyone’s plans for the holidays? Mother and father are leaving Toria and I at the manor alone again this year and I need someone to live vicariously through.” Daphne says once the older witch is gone.

You grimace feeling sorry for your friend. This was the third year in a row now that her parents had left her and her sister alone for Christmas. While not the most attentive, at least your parents didn’t leave you completely high and dry.

“I think I’m just going home for the holidays, nothing too entirely interesting I’m afraid. Mum will probably be tied up at the ministry all holiday, and father can never be away from his business too long. You know,” you tell her, sure your other friends probably had much grander plans.

“I’m sure it’ll be plenty relaxing. Perhaps you’ll have time to grab lunch with Toria, Pansy, and I one day,” she assures you.

Blaise nods his head. “Mother has decided that she wants to spend her holiday in the sun, so I’m going home to Italy,” he says rolling his eyes. “Mother said she’d love to have you for a visit though,” he adds turning to Daphne. “I’m sure Astoria could come as well so that she isn’t alone. If she isn’t spending her holiday with Matt that is.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at this and you share a knowing look with Enzo. It was commonly known among pure blood families that an invitation to spend the holidays at one’s ancestral home generally meant that the relationship was quite serious. And by the sounds of it, both Greengrass sisters were likely soon to be off the market. A piping hot bit of gossip indeed.

“What about you Enzo? How are you spending your few weeks of freedom?” You ask, just as Rosmerta returns with your tray of drinks.

She carefully sets a hot cocoa down in front of you, whipped cream covered in shiny little chocolate shavings hung deliciously over the sides, before placing a warm, golden drink in front of each of your companions. Before she can forget, she hands Enzo a cold glass, filled to the brim with water.

You watch carefully as his hand closes around the cold glass, fingertips leaving wet prints on the frosty exterior as he raises the glass to his lips. Oh what you would give to know that body as if it were your own. A shiver runs down your spine and you quickly force yourself to snap out of it before you made a fool of yourself.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it freedom,” Enzo says finally, wiping a bit of water from the side of his pretty, pink lips. “Mother and father are determined to find me a suitable partner and refuse to leave me alone. And now they’ve roped aunt Cissy into their schemes. Speaking of which, were you all invited to the Malfoy ball? The Christmas one?” He asks.

Daphne and Blaise both nod their heads. You don’t.

“Really, y/n? I would’ve thought Draco would have insisted you were invited,” Daphne says.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be just as dull as every other year. You’re not missing much.” Blaise adds.

“You’re right, she won’t be missing anything at all. You can be my date, y/n. I promise I’m a fun time,” he says laying his boyish charm on thick. Not that he needed to with you.

Daphne sends a sly smile your way.

“I’m sure y/n would just love that. And your mum adores her. Remember my mother’s garden party, y/n? You and Mrs. Berkshire chatted for hours. Oh! And you can come with Toria and I to find dresses. You simply must come,” she gushes.

Enzo gives you a dopey smile and you can feel his thumb making long, slow strokes along your hip bone.

“Alright, I suppose I can make time during my very busy and packed holiday,” you say with a light laugh, melting into Enzo’s touch.

Later that evening you find yourself wandering the stacks of books, lining the library shelves as you search for the one book that would help you complete your charms essay. You didn’t mean to listen in on what was clearly meant to be a private conversation. You really didn’t. But something about Enzo’s voice made you feel like a fly trapped in honey.

“Mate, I think she knows,” he whispers furiously to Blaise who sits next to him, looking rather miserable. “I mean I know I’m rather obsessed with her, but I thought I was being subtle.” You hear him say.

Blaise cocks an eyebrow at this.

“You volun-told her that she would be your date. To the Malfoy ball. Immediately after telling her that your parents want you to find a wife. And you thought you were being subtle?” He asks his starry eyed friend.

“Was I not?”

“No you bloody idiot.”

Were they talking about you? Peaking through the shelves, you see Enzo frown in confusion at this.

“Well, how did you tell Daphne you fancied her?” He asks.

Blaise looks like he’s about ready to drown himself in the Black Lake.

“I don’t know mate. I asked her to accompany me to one of Parkinson’s galas I suppose.”

“That’s it? And she just fell in love with you? At one of those boring, stuffy things?”

Before Blaise is able to silently combust, Draco makes his grand appearance, carrying with him a stack of books piled well past the top of his head.

“Ah. Are we talking about wooing Enzo’s future wife, y/n, again? Draco asks, setting down his mountain of books and pulling up a seat next to the other boys.

You feel your cheeks flush bright red at Draco’s words. You were most definitely not meant to hear this conversation.

“You better lock that one down quick mate. She may not stick around. The good ones aren’t too keen on waiting these days. Plus, Pansy might have mentioned the other night that y/n has developed quite the little crush on you too,” Draco tells him rather matter of factly, opening his text book.

Your mouth drops open at this. Pansy! How could she? Actually, you thought to yourself, she is quite the gossip, it really was on you for spilling that to her. Never mind. With a sudden burst of determination and self-resolve, you decide that it’s time to end this little game of will they, won’t they once and for all. You quickly round the corner, easily making your way over to the table occupied by the three boys.

“Thank Rowena,” you say, acting as if you’d just caught sight of the boys. “I cannot find the book I’m looking for anywhere, can one of you help me search?” You ask marching up to them, eyeing Draco’s large stack.

The boys look up at you a bit startled, but Enzo immediately jumps up from his seat, scrambling to get his things in order. Perfect, you smile to yourself. Now to lure him into the maze of bookshelves.

“Course love, what book are we looking for?” He says finally, giving you another dopey grin.

You hear Blaise mutter something under his breath, but choose to ignore it.

“Advanced Charm Work in the second edition,” you tell him, leading him back to the shelves you had previously been lurking in.

“Ah, working on the charms essay, are you?” Enzo asks, eyes roaming the shelves, looking for the elusive tome.

“Mmm. Trying to. But this bloody book is nowhere to be found,” you reply. “I’d ask Pince, but I’m so afraid of her.”

Enzo snorts at that, before nodding his head in agreement. You look in silence for a bit longer before you finally lean against a shelf, eyes gazing over the profile of the boy standing beside you. He’d definitely grown into his boyish features this last year, indigo eyes conveniently distracted in search of your book and an almost lyrical smile gracing his lips. You let your eyes wander lower to his permanently untucked shirt and long slender fingers that you desperately wanted running through your hair.

“Give up?” The sound of his voice jolts you out of your thoughts as you look up to find his dark eyes staring down at you, a smile tugging at his lips.

You shrug your shoulders.

“I saw it in the stack of books that Draco is holding hostage at your table,” you admit as Enzo moves to stand in front of you, trapping you between him and the shelf that was now digging into your back.

Enzo smirks.

“Then what are we doing back here, love?” He asks, bring his arms up, further trapping you between the hands now positioned on each side of your head.

“I think you know,” you murmur, grabbing hold of his tie and giving it a small tug, causing his lips to crash into yours. They were just as soft and warm as you imagined as he moves them expertly against yours, working a small moan out of you.

“Shh love,” he whispers against your lips, before claiming them with his once more. You feel yourself getting lost in his touch, following the sparks erupting in your chest as one of his hands drops to grip tightly around your thigh eliciting another soft moan from your lips.

Enzo pulls away again with a low laugh.

“Needy witch. Why don’t we finish this somewhere a bit more private?” He says breathily, brushing away a stray hair from your face. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that. I’m going to do it right.”

You smile mischievously. “I mean, if I’m your future wife, I think you have all the time in the world to do it right.”

Enzo’s face immediately reddens.

“How much of that did you hear?”

You shrug innocently, a giggle escaping your lips.

“Enough. But really Enzo? Going to Blaise of all people for romantic advice? That boy is so emotionally constipated.” You say as Enzo begins leading you out of the library.

“Hush love, it worked didn’t it?” He says sticking his tongue out at you playfully.

You’re eyes lock in once again on the pretty set of lips in front of you before flickering up to meet Enzo’s equally heated gaze. Charms essay be damned, you could not wait to get to this boy’s dorm.

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles—02/August/2024

Blimey, it’s been a hot one here this week in the UK! But it certainly has set the mood for Book Four, which has a lot of heat to it…in more ways than one! ;D

I will keep it a short one this week, because although it was a fantastic week where I was on a serious roll, there is the most important thing I want to mention:

Chapter Two of the Book Four demo will be up on Saturday for early access on Patreon to $5+ tiers!

The post will be out around 1:30pm-ish (UK time) :D

Public release will be some time late next week/end, I would think!

The new editing system seriously seems to be working! Although it means taking more time at the end of each chapter, there are WAY fewer issues coming back from the editor and readers, which in the long run will hopefully make Book Four’s writing and testing process go so much smoother, as well as a much quicker testing phase at the very end—which is always one of the most time-consuming and stressful parts!

But it was super nice to settle down to do the edits and comments from the readers and testers, only to end up looking at them and realizing there was hardly anything to adjust or edit!

Unfortunately, things always still manage to slip through (I’ve found a bug myself I will be fixing today before tomorrow’s demo release!) but it really is so much more polished at this point than where the books have been in the past.

Wow, after saying I was going to keep it short I still managed to write a longer update than planned, hehe! I’m just incredibly happy to feel like I’ve finally found a process for editing that actually works and will save so much time at the end, as well as making the books that much more clean and polished!

Next week, it’s social media days! So I'll be working on those before diving right back into writing! <3

[suugarbabe]

Rockstar!Sirius Black has me in a chokehold. I’m obsessed with my wife @finalgirllx and thankful for the work she put in for me for these two edits and I hope everyone is pulling their hair out at them as much as me.

This little blurb is for my second wife @thatdammchickennugget ‘s hogmarch challenge.

Prompt: fire whiskey / are you speaking parseltongue or am I really that drunk

Warnings: fluff; mentions of bar/drinking;

You don’t really know how you got here. At this party that is. One day your muggle friend is begging you to come to a concert with her. Two weeks later she has you sleeping on a side-walk waiting to get in. “I really want to get barricade,” she says. And you love her so you comply. When you manage to get it, you’re just as shocked as she is. Arms crossed on the bar, elbows hanging over the barricade as music plays from the speakers while everyone waits for the band to appear.

You assume it’s a four person group; you see a drum set, a keyboard, a guitar with a mic stand and a bass guitar. You’re wracking your brain for the name of the band, your friends mentioned it probably a million times in the last hour alone but you’ve been so focused on not a Avada-ing any of the other millions of girls around who seem to want to keep pushing against your back to get closer to whoever this band seems to be.

It’s when the curtain falls that your heart nearly stops. It had to be a coincidence, right? The fact that this band happens to have the same name as the infamous group of pranking boys from your school years. But all your nervous fears are confirmed when they start strolling on to the stage, you recognize the others in an instant, but the one that catches your eye most intensely slings the guitar over his shoulder, a shit eating smirk gracing his lips as his tucks his hair behind his ear.

“Blimey, what a turn out, yeah lads?” The guitarist turns slightly where he stands, glancing at his friends behind him who are all nodding and shouting, pumping their fists in the air with the screams of fans in front of them. The guitarist turns back towards the crowd, eyes scanning over the sea of people until they come to the front and lock with yours. Your friend besides you starts shaking with giddy excitement as he speaks his next words into the mic, her arm hooking with yours. But you can’t tear your eyes away from his piercing gaze, “In case any of you’ve forgotten, we’re The Marauders and-”

Being barricade had its benefits because you heard the drummer shout, “Oi, Pads, get on with it, will ya, let’s give em a show, yeah?” Sirius laughs into the mic and your thrust back to being seventeen and pining after the long haired boy at the back of your advanced potions class. “Alright, Prongs, don’t lose yer head, mate. Who’s ready to fucking rock out?” Sirius strummed his guitar and the crowd erupted in cheers and screams. The entire concert was a bit of a blur. One because you didn’t know any of their songs, but two because it seemed like any time Sirius looked towards the front of the crowd, he looked right at you, and your friends and the girls surrounding you seemed to lose their mind at the concept.

When the concert finally ended you watched your old classmates take in the cheers and praise. James threw both his drumsticks into the crowd, Remus tossed a few picks as well. Reggie stepped from behind the keyboard, taking his setlist with him and passing it to the security guard to give to a random girl. Sirius, however, seemed to have a different plan. The girls around you seemed to be panting with anticipation as Sirius took a marker from a stage hand and laid down on his stomach, pulling the cap from the marker with his teeth before writing on his setlist on the ground. Capping the pen, he pulled the setlist off the ground slowly, folding the tape over the edges before folding the setlist into fours.

What really made everyone around you go into a frenzy was Sirius jumping down from the stage and walking straight up to you at barricade and holding the paper towards you with a smile. “Here,” Sirius grabbed your wrist, placing the folded setlist into your hand, “open it when you leave the venue. Was nice seeing you again, love. S’been too long since the last time.” Sirius then turned his attention to the people around you, shaking hands and signing a few autographs but it all sounded muffled to yours ears as it seemed like all the blood was rushing to your head as you were rushing out of the crowd, you friend close behind.

“Uhm, hello? Are you gonna tell me what the fuck that was back there?” You were walking as fast as you could without sprinting, your friend hot on your heels. “Y/n/n!” You turned abruptly to face her, her stopping roughly in her tracks. “What!” You were nearly screaming before taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry, erm, I’m sorry. I just…I haven’t seen those guys in a long time and it was just a little…overwhelming.” Your friend nodded, the grin never leaving her face, “How do you even know them, can we open the letter now, what does it say?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the note from your pocket. Unfolding it you finally answered her questions, “We went to school together, believe it or not they were very popular and I was…well…not. I had a few classes with the others and well Sirius was…friends with some of my friends, let’s say. Honestly I didn’t even expect him to recognize me once I realized they were the band we were seeing and…” your thoughts and words seem to die on your lips as your eyes scanned the setlist in your hands, Sirius’s sloppy scrawl strewn across in black marker. Your friend raised her eyebrows impatiently, turning your hands towards her so she could see what had you at such a loss, a gasp leaving her as she did so. “Is that a fucking address…”

So maybe you did know how you got to this party, your friend begging and pleading until you agreed to go. “It’s only polite, he did invite you after all,” she had said. You knew her agenda was more so to gain an opportunity to see the boys up close, so you didn’t argue when as soon as you entered the private bar she immediately went on the hunt. You, on the other hand, went straight for a drink, or two, or four. You were working on yet another firewhiskey when a rough voice spoke your last name from behind you. Turning around, you attempted to control your blush, “Black. Long time no see.” You did your best to keep your tone casual, like your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest.

Per expected Sirius was nothing but charming and smooth, “I didn’t expect to see a friend in the crowd tonight, you caught me slightly off guard I have to admit.” You clasped onto your drink with both hands, hoping the coolness of the glass would offset the heat that was rapidly spreading through your body, “You consider us friends? I didn’t even think you’d recognize me.” Sirius’s gaze turned what you could only describe as tender, “I would’ve failed Advanced Charms if you hadn’t put up with me for two whole terms. If spending endless weeks in the library didn’t make us friends, what then developed between us, nothing?”

No, just my raging school girl crush on you is all. You shook your head, mouth opening and slightly stammering, no explanation coming to mind. “Pads, you’re not scaring y/n/n away are you? Gonna make us not see her for another three years again?” Sirius huffed a slightly annoyed breath, “Yeah, Moony, the reason we haven’t seen her is strictly my fault, not that our band took off or anything.” Sirius jabs a thumb over his shoulder as he glances back at you as if to say, the nerve of this guy. “She didn’t even think I’d recognize her, or considered us friends! Can you believe that?”

The taller boy greeted you with a warm and familiar smile, the scar stretching over his top lip thinning with the action, “Well I certainly don’t blame her for the latter. But we’re still friends, aren’t we, dove?” Remus took a step forward, wrapping you in a tight and friendly embrace. “Hi, Rem,” you mumbled just loud enough over the bar music. Remus was gruffly pulled away from you to reveal a pouting face with glasses and a mop of curly hair, “Not consider us friends? Did seven agonizing years of potions together mean absolutely nothing to you?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the dramatics, “Hi, Jamie. ‘ve missed you.” You open your arms for a hug and are quickly embraced in a bear-like squeeze, “Missed you too shortcake. Been too long.” A second body joins your hug from behind, “Yeah, it’s been too long.” James pushes him off before letting you go, “Whydya have to do that Reg, you ambushed my hug.” Regulus opens his mouth to argue when a throat clearing catches all of your guys' attention. You turn to see your friend clearly doing her best not to freak out at the scene before her. You turn the the boys, pushing your friend slightly in front of you, “Guys this is my friend Órlaith. She brought me to your show. Big fan, her. Órlaith, this is Reg, Jamie, Rem and Sirius.”

The four boys all flashed award winning smiles while your friend managed a meek ‘hi’ and a slight wave. “So you didn’t just have classes with them, you were friends with the fucking Marauders,” Órlaith wacked your arm, causing James and Regulus to burst out in laughter. Remus leaned in close to your friend, a hand shielding one side of his mouth while pointing a thumb back at James, “Y/n/n, here actually helped make sure this one graduated on time.” James crossed his arms in mock offense, “Is he talking shite love? Moony, don’t fill her head with lies we’ve only just met.”

Sirius slung his arm over her shoulder, whispering in her ear, “Actually, I’d like to catch up with Y/l/n. You mind if I steal her for a moment? Think you can watch these gits, keep them in line for me while I’m away?” She gave a timid nod and Sirius flashed her his knee weakening grin. Remus shot Sirius a knowing look, one you completely missed as you were too busy focusing on Sirius lacing his fingers in yours and dragging you towards a roped off section of the bar. You tried to will your palm to not be clammy as you downed the last of your drink, setting the glass on a passing table. As Sirius led you up the few steps and past the velvet rope he settled you both down at a table in the corner.

With a wave of his wrist the music and sound of the crowd disappeared. “See? A perfect silencing charm. Wouldn’t have been able to do that without your help in years past, friend,” Sirius emphasized the last word, wiggling his eyebrows. You laughed slightly, eyes rolling, “Yes, I’m very proud of you. However, that hasn’t stopped the gaggle of girls staring at us.” You motioned toward at least four women you could see clearly shooting daggers your way at a private talk with the leading man. Sirius shrugged his shoulders, eyes never leaving your direction, “I don’t care about them, my focus is on you.”

Your face seemed to stay in a permanent state of blush with Sirius’s full attention solely on you. “Now tell me, sweetheart. Did you really not consider us friends all those years? I mean, I thought we were pretty close. If I recall we’ve drunkenly fallen asleep on a few couches and floors together. Who else does that besides very good friends?” You nervously summon a drink before you, taking the glass and trying to hide half your face behind it while you take a long gulp. Your eyes scan over Sirius’s face, taking in the changes, or lack thereof, from the last time you saw him.

He still has that same boyish charm, that grin the tends to sneak onto his face when he knows he’s being charming. His hair is still gorgeous, long and flowing, though maybe slightly greasier than your school years, but you’re sure that’s part of his rockstar aesthetic. His forearms now adorn multiple tattoos and from what you know of Sirius there’s probably more hidden elsewhere. He had a few more piercings now, and his jawline was more refined now that he was no longer a teenager, but what remained exactly the same was always your favorite part of him; his eyes.

Sirius always had the most captivating eyes; a deep russet brown that seemed to change with his mood and whether he was telling the truth or not. Either that or you had just spent so much time staring at him you began to figure out his tells without anyone else realizing. “You’re telling the truth, you really considered us good friends didn’t you?” Sirius laughed lightly, looking down at his lap before meeting your eyes once more, “Yes, I’m telling the truth.” You shook your head, “That wasn’t a question, it was a statement, I can tell when you’re lying. I just can’t believe you’re being serious.”

“Well I’m always Sirius, darling.” You rolled your eyes at his favorite pun, going to bring your drink back to your lips. Sirius, however, had other plans, stealing to glass from your hands and downing the rest himself. You opened your mouth to scold him but he got his words out first, “How can you – blimey, love no mixer really? Merlin’s fucking beard – how can you tell when I’m lying? I like to think I’m quite subtle at hiding the truth.” You sat up a bit straighter, tucking your legs underneath you on the couch. Normally you would never admit anything, especially not to Sirius himself, but your filter seemed to be turned off thanks to the many firewhiskey’s now running through your system.

You leaned your elbow on the back of the couch, facing Sirius now with your head resting against your fist, “Your eyes turn a shade or two darker when you’re lying. Normally they’re just this beautiful deep brown color that looks like the sun is shining directly on them, even when you’re inside and there’s not even a window in sight. But when you’re lying it’s like all the mischief you’ve got cooking in your brain is overheating and it deepens the color.” If you weren’t feeling so tipsy you probably would’ve noticed the deep blush that spread over Sirius’s cheeks. But being himself he couldn’t let you stop there, “What else have you seemed to notice over the years, huh sweet girl?”

Subconsciously you knew you’d regret it in the morning, but your ability to stop your mouth from rambling seemed to be null. “You tend to chew on your top lip when you’re concentrating, not the entire thing, just one of the corners. You did it tonight during your guitar solo, which was actually pretty fantastic. I'm very proud of you, Siri. And I only noticed you do that because it’s different from other people, usually people bite their bottom lip, but you bite your top,” Sirius touched his top lip with his fingertips as you continued, “And I know when you’re laughing just to be polite and when you’re laughing for real because your fake laugh is this polite little chuckle where you nod your head to make the other person think you’re really paying attention, but your real laugh is so much better. You throw your head back, and your hair falls from your face and it’s real hearty and deep and your smile stays bright for moments afterwards.” You let out a long sigh, your eyes keeping this distance look to them like you were recalling an exact moment for each aspect you just described. “Merlin, I was just so in…I just had the biggest crush on you back then.”

Sirius blinked a few times in disbelief, shaking his head and trying to clear his thoughts because there was definitely no way he heard what he just thought he heard, “I’m sorry, love. Are you speaking parseltongue or am I really that drunk?” You scoffed slightly, “Excuse me?” Sirius quickly held his hands up in defense, “No, no! I just meant that – oh for Godric’s sake, I’m gonna muck this up I just know it–” You grabbed his wrists, effectively stopping his spiraling tangent, “Sirius!” He looked up at you, eyes meeting yours and just like you said, they looked like the sun was hitting them directly despite being in the back corner of a dark bar, “I never needed help with charms.”

Your face contorted in confusion, “Sorry, erm, what?” Sirius closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He opened his eyes once more, making sure you were looking back at him so you would see he was telling the truth, “I never needed help with charms, I would fuck up spells on purpose because I wanted to spend more time with you.” You shook your head, “But Remus said…”

“I lied to Moony,” Sirius cut you off, “Well, I tried to lie to him at first. I told him I was failing and I asked him to ask you to be my tutor but the bloody git knows everything, saying shit like ‘I know you’re at the top of our class Sirius meh meh meh’, so I asked him to lie for me.” You shook your head, “Why would you do that?” Sirius placed his hands on either side of your face, your hands still holding his wrists, “Because I had an insanely huge crush on you that I kept trying to deny and Moony could see it a mile away. I’m surprised you missed it with everything else you seemed to notice.” You smiled at him, a real genuine relaxed smile, then he spoke again, “Past tense probably isn’t the right usage. After seeing you tonight, I can humbly admit that all those feelings are very much still here. You believe me, don’t you?”

Sirius tilted your head up so you were looking directly at him. He widened his eyes dramatically, staring at you intensely and causing you to giggle. You squinted your eyes at him briefly, making it look like you were really studying him, “Hmm..clear as day. Yes, Siri, I believe you.” Sirius let out a long breath, “Thank merlin, because I’ve been dying to do this since I was on stage.” Sirius’s lips met yours with a gentle fervent, intensifying only when you fisted the front of his t-shirt, pulling him harder into you. You pulled apart only when you were short of breath, both panting heavily. “Remus is going to lose his mind,” Sirius chuckled, grin never leaving his face. You glanced over his shoulder, flicking your wrist and breaking the silencing charm only to be met with cheers and whistles so loud they floated over the rustle of the bar, “I think he already has, they all have.” Sirius turned, seeing his friends and bandmates making their way over. He turned back to you, a cheeky grin on his lips, “Okay, kiss me again, just once more before they get here. Once they do I just know James is gonna talk your ear off about the whole thing.” You giggled, biting your bottom lip before grasping the back of his neck, pulling his lips towards yours once more.

[warping-realities]

The Last Curse of the Dark Lord

(Revised and improved version)

It’s all over; it’s finally all over. Harry couldn’t quite believe that, after all this time, all his losses, Voldemort had finally been vanquished. The young lad began to crack a timid smile in the midst of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, only to be hit by a wave of energy he’d never felt before in his life, accompanied by the cold voice of the Dark Lord whispering to him.

“You might think you’ve defeated me, Potter, but even in death, the Dark Lord's revenge comes for you. This is my final curse, and it will take everything you love and make Dumbledore , that muggle lover, worst nightmare came to life. This goes for both of you; he who mixes with pigs must live like one.”

At that moment, the boy lost consciousness, unaware that his famous scar was fading away, leaving behind flawless skin.

...

“You didn’t do what I asked. You never treated Harry like a son. He didn’t know anything but neglect and often cruelty because of you. The best that can be said is that he at least escaped the horrible damage you inflicted on the poor lad sitting between you.”

Harry dreamt of an old man with long, white hair and a beard. Sitting in one of the armchairs in his aunt and uncle’s sitting room, he could’ve sworn he recognised the man, but that was impossible; the Dursleys would never let a doddering old git like that cross their threshold, let alone sit in their pristine living room and speak to them in such a way. As he strained to remember where he knew the old geezer from, the dream slowly unravelled as the lad experienced a succession of even more bizarre dreams before finally falling into a deep sleep.

...

Harry awoke in his room at his aunt and uncle’s posh house. For a moment, he thought he was back in his old room at number 4 Privet Drive, but that didn’t make sense, just like those odd dreams he knew he could never talk about in that house. Not that he had the slightest interest in doing so; he wasn’t some sort of weirdo, after all. The dreams involved a school of magic and a Lord… Vol… Vold… something. Bizarre. He stretched, rubbed his eyes, and sat up in bed. For a moment, he thought about putting on his glasses, but then remembered he hadn’t needed them for years, ever since his aunt and uncle had forked out for an expensive corrective surgery. Blimey, the Dursleys would give him and Dudley anything they wanted, as the room full of tech gadgets and boxing equipment attested. Still feeling drowsy, the lad scratched his powerful pecs, sensing he was forgetting something very important.

He forced his sluggish mind to try to remember and… he knew there was something planned with Dudley, something his cousin really wanted, and he, as his best mate, would go along. No, no, that wasn’t right, an annoying voice nagged in his head, soon drowned out by a louder and much thicker voice. Mate, today was an important day; he just needed to remember why, but thinking had never been his strong suit. Ever since they were little, Dudley had been the leader, and he was a good follower. Dudley was much brighter, after all. And speaking of the devil, the blonde, muscular lad appeared in his cousin’s doorway at that moment.

“Oi, Goblin! You still haven’t got up, sleepyhead? Get a move on; today’s the big day!”

Harry frowned at the nickname he loathed. His cousin was the only one who didn’t risk getting a proper beating for addressing him like that, although he rarely called him that inside the house for fear of irritating his parents. Dudley exuded confidence, dressed in the smart attire the Dursleys so loved to see on both of them. If only they knew… they’d do nothing but come up with some excuse for the pair’s antics, as always. Letting his cousin pass unharmed, he scratched his head, lost in foggy thoughts.

“Yeah, I know it’s the big day, Big D… just can’t remember why.”

“Potter, how stupid are you? Thank goodness I’m the brains around here! Go have your breakfast; Father wants a word with you before we head out. Put on some clothes and shave that scruff; you know how he gets when he thinks we’re slacking.”

Harry felt butterflies in his stomach, the fear of his uncle’s explosion settling in. But why? Uncle Vernon had never raised his voice at him. The man treated him like a prince.

“Potter, you idiot! You shouldn’t have drunk so much last night. Bloody Piers and his bets,” the young lad muttered as he grabbed the first bits of clothing he found on the floor.

He descended the stairs, still groggy, stopping beside the cupboard under the stairs and staring at it for a few seconds, with the strange image of his uncle locking him in there. Nonsense. He burst out laughing just imagining it.

“What the hell was in those drinks?” he thought, taking a few steps before stopping again, looking at the coffee table in the living room covered in photos of him and his cousin. He scratched his head, with the odd feeling that the images should be moving. If Uncle Vernon heard such nonsense, he could really lose his temper. For some reason, he was surprised to see himself in those photos, as if, for some strange reason, he shouldn’t be there.

The first image showed a young Petunia, flanked by Harry and Dudley on a winter outing about a year after he moved in with them. He was astonished at how thin he looked.

The second was a photo of Vernon with the two boys in his office at Grunnings, the drill company he was director of before making a very profitable deal with old Mr. Mason some years back and then expanding the business into other areas. That business agreement guaranteed them the manor where they lived today among many other advantages.

Harry remembered that day well; after all, it was his twelfth birthday, and he deserved to have that day all to himself. As a reward for giving in, he got a video game and a television just for himself, so he wouldn’t have to share with Dudley, which his cousin thought was a brilliant idea, perhaps because it had been his idea. Strangely, the image of a woman screaming at the sight of an owl flying through the living room window popped into his mind. What the hell was that? An owl in the sitting room? Harry had never been the imaginative type; that drink really must have been poisoned. Piers was going to get a right hiding when Harry saw him again.

Next to it, there was a black and white photo of him and Dudley at Smeltings, the school they both attended until a few days ago. That one was taken on their first day of school. Once again, Harry was flooded with old memories, him and Dudley trying on the uniform that barely fit the pair’s bulk, just before Harry’s eleventh birthday, the two of them engaging in a lively tussle with the sticks that were part of the school uniform.

Of course, the two later used those sticks on far more interesting targets. Finally, there was a photo of the two of them at 15 years old in the boxing ring, the sport responsible for turning all the fat they’d accumulated over the years into muscle power. It was in the boxing team that the two earned their nicknames: Big D for Dudley, thanks to his impressive build, and Goblin for Harry, who, being the shortest in the team had to resort to some tactics that were seen as vicious by some people, earning him that moniker.

Still with the memory of those fun afternoons in mind, the lad entered the kitchen, greeted by the smile on his uncle’s face.

“Morning, Uncle Vernon.”

“Harry, me boy, I need to have a word with you… what are you doing?” The man stopped upon seeing the lad serving a plate for him.

“Sorry, Uncle, is there something wrong with the eggs?”

“No, they’re perfect, but why are you serving? You’ve never done anything like that in your life. Hahaha. Clever lad, trying to please your old uncle. Sit down, Harry; you don’t need to try and butter me up. I just want to ask you a favour.”

Harry sat down at the table, pensive. What the hell was happening to him that day? Was it just the hangover?

“I know where you and Dudley went last night. Don’t get me wrong, lad; I reckon every healthy boy should enjoy life. But I ask you not to let your aunt see. Son, your dad... he was a right piece of work, sorry to say it again, but it’s true. That man could drink properly, and that’s what worries Petunia. So, keep it for Mallorca. Enjoy yourselves; after all, it’s the first time you and Dudley are going off alone to our seaside house.”

Harry’s first instinct was to shout at his uncle to defend his dad, but why would he do that? His dad had died in a car accident, probably drunk, after dragging his mum around the country. Harry liked a good drink too, but he and Dudley would have to be more discreet, especially if the Dursleys had noticed. For a long time, the two lads had avoided showing all their activities, even knowing that the Dursleys would support them; but what they didn’t see, they didn’t feel. And it was precisely by remembering this the lad broke into a smile and spoke to his uncle.

“I’ll go, Uncle, but I assure you that what happened last night was a one-off. Dudley and I’ve never drunk before; it was all Gordon and Piers’s idea. I swear.”

“I knew it! I told Petunia yesterday: ‘Tunia, our boys wouldn’t do something like that. We’ve raised them well. They’re good lads, and we’re good parents. Isn’t that right, lad?’”

“You’re the best, Uncle! Now I’ll go get changed; after all, it’s the big day.” Mallorca! How could he forget? They’d been organising this for months, finally off on holiday alone to do whatever they wanted. He’d been a bit slow if he’d forgotten about it.

After getting ready and grabbing his bags, Harry went to find his cousin, who was already waiting for him in the shiny new car he’d received as a birthday present for his eighteenth. Harry was counting the days to his own birthday, knowing he’d get a machine like that too. He and Big D were itching to race each other. They’d wanted to do that for years, although Petunia had been inexplicably firm in her refusals, probably due to how she lost her sister.

And speaking of her, his aunt was waiting for him in the front garden while Dudley laughed at seeing his dad struggle to get into the sporty car he’d driven back from the airport. Aunt Petunia turned to Harry, looking at him with her pale eyes, which for a brief moment made the lad think will be filled with resentment, but which instead showed adoration.

“Harry, dear, I may not like your father; he wasn’t worthy of your mother, but Lily… Lily was eccentric. If you knew about the horrible boy she was hanging about with when we were young! But when you lost your mother, I lost my sister. But she left you to me, and I’ve done everything to make sure you had everything you wanted, just like Dudders. My two boys all grown up! Off on your own! Do take care of each other!”

“Don’t worry, Aunt Petunia; Dudders and I will look after ourselves. I promise we’ll call every day!” If we remember, thought the lad, smiling inwardly.

“Get a move on, Potter! Time for a bit of fun!” shouted his cousin from the car.

....

A few days later, with his stubble at a length he knew would drive the girls wild, Harry strolled down the sunny streets of Magaluf, heading to meet his cousin, grinning without a care in the world as if he owned the place.

Upon arriving at the beach, Dudley was easy to spot; he was easily the biggest bloke on the shore, and it was hard to believe his cousin was only eighteen. With a mischievous grin, Big D pointed to a group of younger boys.

“Potter, look at those little nippers; they’re begging for a beating.”

“True, but they can wait,” Harry replied. Not used to being challenged, Dudley turned to his cousin.

“And can I ask why, Goblin?”

“The reason, Big D, is those two lovely birds eyeing us up. The redhead’s mine!” Harry replied.

“And you reckon you can pull a fit bird like that, Potter?”

“You know I can, Big D. Once they’ve had a taste, they always come back,” Harry said, pointing to his member.

“They love my magic wand!”

[emeritusemeritus]

Can you write a Fred x reader where reader is a slytherin student and older than Fred so they never really encounter eachother since they not in the same year level. Until one day they got jinxed/ got into some sort of incidents/ prank (whatever you could think of!) where they are tied together until the spell expires itself. So during the time they get to know eachother and get attracted by eachother flirtatious and witty personalities. But when the spell expires both of them feel like there’s no reason to hang out with eachother anymore so none of them make a move until Fred gets jealous over someone asking reader to Yule ball and then they both confess and happy ending?? Thank you so much!!

Hi love! I’m sorry this took so long, but I had so much fun writing this, hope it’s okay! 🖤

Warnings: pranks, minor swearing, banter, finger jokes, fluff and humour. Sorry Miles Bletchley.

Just a reminder to anyone reading that my requests are currently closed, these are ones that I received a while back that I haven’t had time to write until now.

Word count: 3.1k

Ties that bind.

“Neville, NO!”

It's the last thing you hear before you're unceremoniously dragged through the air completely weightless until you crash into a rather solid frame, disorientated and wholeheartedly perplexed. To make matters much, much worse, when you try to pull yourself away, you realise quickly that you can't move even a foot away from the person you'd inadvertently barrelled into.

"Blimey," you hear someone say from behind you but you can hardly twist enough to look for yourself who it is. You begin to struggle against the invisible confines, beginning to panic about the lack of freedom as a crowd begins to gather around you.

"Bloody Neville," the person directly in front of you curses and for the first time you finally look up, taking in the person you were seemingly attached to. One of the Weasley twins.

"I told you not to touch it!" The other, near identical boy says, reaching to grab something from Neville Longbotton's hands as he stands frozen, shocked at what he'd apparently conjured.

"George undo it now," the boy in front of you says rather harshly, announcing himself to be Fred Weasley. You watch as George fumbles with whatever Neville had previously occupied, a trick wand of sorts that looked flimsy and poorly made. You wait with baited breath as George attempts no less than four times to reverse the spell but the increasingly frustrated and bewildered look upon his face only increases with each attempt, making your hopes of freedom dwindle to almost nothing.

"Longbottom what the bloody hell did you do? What is that thing?" You say for the first time, an annoyed expression evident across your face. For the first time, Fred looks down at you from his ridiculous height and stares for a moment, ginger lashes blinking as he looks upon your face. You avert your eyes at the rather intimate distance between your and the Weasley twin and instead chose to focus your icy glare upon Neville who's eyes visibly widen under your stare before he scuttles off.

"It's a trick wand," you hear from directly above you, Fred's unexpectedly soft voice explaining what the malfunctioning device his twin is wildly throwing around is. "It was loaded with a leg binding jinx but apparently we underestimated Neville's lack of ability with magic."

"It's just his bad wand," you reply absently, almost coming to his defensive but quickly pausing when you see Fred suddenly look at you in confusion as your uncharacteristic leniency of the Gryffindor student.

"How long does it take to wear off?" You ask in a mild huff, realising that nothing George was doing would be able to undo the jinx.

"Um well that's the thing," he says hesitantly, causing you to whip your head round to face him as soon as you heard his nervous tone. "It should expire in about 6 or 7 hours."

"7 hours?!" You ask, eyes wide. "But I have potions in-."

"Yeah that's not happening," George says, moving to stand beside you both. It appears the group surrounding you had dispersed, leaving you alone with only both twins in the corridor between the Great hall and the staircases. "Unless you drag him with you."

"I'm going nowhere near potions or Severus grease face."

"So what do we do now?"

Five hours you'd been tethered to Fred Weasley by an invisible bind that still showed no sign of relenting. You'd found weak points of the bind and had managed to untangle yourselves just far enough that you were able to sit directly in front of each other, legs touching and somewhat entwined but at least you weren't stuck on top of eachother like before. You'd found sanctuary in the prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor, escaping from teachers and students alike until the jinx wore off. You'd been pleasantly surprised when he pulled out a head boy pin from his trouser pocket once you were out of sight of the statue of Boris the Bewildered and had recited the password perfectly to allow you access to the usually restricted area.

"My brother Percy hasn't noticed it's missing yet," he smirked as you looked at him in question, watching him try to slip the badge back into his trouser pocket with a little difficulty thanks to the close quarters between the two of you.

The first hour had been awkward to say the least, with neither of you saying much and desperate to get away. It was embarrassing, humiliating and more than anything you just wanted to run back to your common room but after another hour of torturous silence, he began talking.

The third hour passed quickly and you'd found that he was actually really funny and sincere, much calmer than you'd ever expected him to be. You didn't know him, not really but you'd seen him on the quidditch pitch and heard all about the infamous Weasley twins and their pranks which was intimidating to say the least. You'd figured he couldn't do much more to you than what you were already experiencing and he'd not made any attempt to trick you in the few hours you'd spent together.

The fourth and fifth hour had you both hysterically laughing as you recited your best impressions of the hogwarts teachers, his awful madeye moody impression clearly taking the prize for worst impression ever to be made. You'd gotten surprisingly comfortable on the tile floor, your head resting in his lap though your knees were bent to allow room for the invisible shackles. The conversation had turned to a heart to heart after a few hours of laughter and you found that he was opening up rather easily to you, with lingering looks and shared glances you hoped you hadn't imagined.

“Ask me something personal,” he says with a fleeting smile, looking up from his place on your lap. You’d switched places nearly half an hour ago, with his head now resting against your legs, soft, long fingers hair fanning out across your thighs.

You pause for a moment, thinking of what to ask. “What's your mum like?”

He huffs out a breath of laughter, like an inside joke replaying in his head and you watch as a smirk tugs at the side of his lips.

“My mum,” he begins to say with a smile on his full lips, hesitating for only a minute. “She's a fierce lady, great cook, loving… Sometimes a little pushy.”

“There's seven of you!” You jump to defend her, having learnt all about his siblings from the previous hours of conversation. “Two of them being you and George, I might add, maybe she has to be to keep you in line,” you laugh.

“You may have a point there,” he smirks up at you, staring right into your eyes until you feel yourself get lost in his hazel orbs.

“What about you?”

“Hm?” You ask, your lashes fluttering as you try to blink out of your little daydream whilst being absorbed in looking for the golden flecks in his eyes, praying to Salazar himself that he hadn’t noticed.

“Your mum,” he says, completely oblivious to your gaze.

“Oh,” you frown, feeling a sudden weight upon your shoulders at the very mention of your mother, all lightness and whimsy of the situation gone. “She's well respected… proud Slytherin, beautiful.”

“Guess she passed something on to her daughter then,” Fred smirks, quirking his eyebrow at you and you laugh, nudging him gently with your knee. “Smooth Weasley,” you joke, watching as he settles back down on your leg, one bulging arm coming to rest under his shaggy red hair, his school shirt rolled up to display his veiny, bulging forearm….

“Are all your family redheads?” You ask, prying your gaze away from the slightly freckled patch of skin that seemed to be drawing your attention like gold to a niffler.

“Yeah, have to squint looking at all family photos because it's like looking into straight fire,” he jokes and you can’t help but laugh along, laughing more when you see his head bobbing slightly with your movement. His hair looks unbelievably soft and smooth, like it was perfectly styled to look natural, the pure gold and copper strands standing out against the rest in the faint light.

"So you're Ginger-bred," you add, laughing at your own terrible joke. A burst of laughter spills from him, louder than you’d ever heard and you watch him in slight amazement as he shifts, now sitting up and facing you once again, the place in your lap where his head had been resting now feeling a little empty and cold.

“That was a good one actually, might have to tell George that one.”

“Your doppel-ginger?” Another burst of magical laughter echoes around the room and you watch with a proud smile on your face knowing it was you that was making him laugh like this.

“That one is definitely being passed on, never heard that before”.

“Are all your family Gryffindors?” You ask, turning your head to the side slightly, breaking the momentarily comfortable silence.

“Yeah, though I'd look good in green don't you think?” He winks, gesturing to your Slytherin robes.

“I don't know,” you pause, teasing as you look at him, watching carefully as he follows your eyes. “I guess it's lucky for you that you're so tall, wearing green with your hair... people might think you're a leprechaun.”

“Har-har,” he laughs sarcastically, rolling his eyes in a teasing way but from the smile on his face, he’s far from hurt by your banter.

“So, Yule ball’s coming up,” he begins to say but he’s cut off when you suddenly feel a weight taken off of your limbs, the resistance you’d gotten used to quickly wearing off. You gingerly try to prey your leg further from the point you’d both worked out was the farthest you could go, and to your amazement, you can stretch as far as your limbs can go.

You stand, overwhelmed with relief that the jinx had worn off, wasting no time before stretching and throwing your arms about like a wild man.

Fred laughs and joins in with your excited spin, both of you looking like pure idiots in the middle of the prefects bathroom, dancing around with no music and ecstatic smiles on your faces.

You finally stop, the laughter slowly fading as you feel him pull you in for a hug, his arms stretching around your shoulder with relative ease.

“Thank you for being my date today,” he says cheekily with a full bow as he reaches out for your hand, acting formally.

“It was my pleasure sir,” you play along, thrusting your hand into his as he playfully reaches down to kiss the back of your hand.

“Reckon your potions class is long since finished,” he says, gathering the backpack he’d thrown down in the corner with your book bag. From the lack of light outside, it’s obvious that it’s well past school hours, the entire afternoon spent hiding away with Fred.

You snort, “what a shame.”

“You know, for a Slytherin you’re alright,” he teases.

“Shut up gingerbread, which one are you again?”

He reaches out for you but you manage to scamper as he holds open the door for you both to walk through, hoping you can make it out without anyone seeing you.

You make it right up the corridor towards the staircases before it becomes painfully obvious that you’re parting ways, both of your common rooms in opposite directions.

You turn, just out of sight of the staircases and wait with baited breath for him to hopefully make a move, hoping that you hadn’t read it wrong.

There’s a few moments when both of you stare at each other, neither knowing what to do or say and you watch as his eyes travel across your face, to your lips and then away, the tension breaking.

“Well, bye then,” he says, though there’s a hint of emotion in his voice that sounds almost like sadness or hesitation.

“Oh, bye Fred,” you try your hardest to appear neutral but it’s too hard, you can’t help but hear the disappointment slipping through your tone. He turns away and you take the hint, also turning in the opposite direction as you enter the hall of staircases, tracking them to get where you need to go. You feel eyes upon you but when you turn, you see that he’s walking upwards on one of the staircases, not looking at you. You hang on for as long as you can, trying to spot him each time you join a new moving staircase, watching the red hair eventually fade out of view until you reach the opening to the dungeons.

Two weeks pass and unsurprisingly you hear nothing from Fred, though you seem to be acutely more aware of his presence around school. You hear his voice, hear his laughter and even the passing rumours seem to reach you much more than before, retellings of him and George’s latest prank. You can’t help but search for his red hair in the sea of Gryffindor’s in the great Hall and try to look out for him between classes like a lost puppy. It was amazing really, you’d gone from hardly knowing him, and certainly not knowing him from his twin to being able to completely distinguish him and George apart even with a brief glance.

You told no one of this, naturally, glad that Neville’s misdemeanour hadn’t reached the whole school and that you’d come away largely unscathed, in terms of your reputation. Neville had avoided you at all costs, bumping into you once with panic in his eyes and lasting no more than two seconds before retreating sharpish.

You were gutted, thinking that you’d made an actual connection with him but apparently not, it was just situational. So you did the only thing you could do and return to your life before you’d encountered Fred Weasley, trying to put away any memories or feelings you felt, though you couldn’t deny your life felt that little less exciting now you knew what it was like to spend time with him.

“Y/n?” You turn towards the sound of your name being called, all hope leaving your body quickly when you realise it isn’t him, that it’s Miles Bletchley, a fellow Slytherin that was in the year below you.

“Hi gorgeous,” he says with a smile but you don’t reciprocate, instead fixing him with a slight face of disgust, lips pursing at the nickname.

“Bletchley,” you greet him, making his surname sound as vomitious as possible, which wasn’t a hard task. He was far from the worst Slytherins, keeper on the Quidditch team and an overall nice enough guy but his body language was putting you off completely. Cocky, running his hand through his hair, throwing his weight about.

“So I was wondering if you had a date to the Yule Ball? Gorgeous girl like you has already been claimed but doesn’t hurt to ask right?” He winks.

“Claimed?” You repeat in disgust at his turn of phrase. Your apparently disgust and overall lack of a reply doesn’t seem to phase him in the slightly as he shrugs, a stupid smirk tugging at the side of his thin, chapped lips.

“Figured I’d shoot my shot,” he chuckles, as if he’d made a witty comment that he was so proud of.

“Figure you should stick to goalkeeping, if that’s the shot you’re taking, your aim’s well off,” you say with a roll of your eyes as you turn, walking away from him in a proud sweep, only to tumble into the front of someone seconds after.

Fred.

You open your mouth to greet him but simply pull back slightly, feeling the loss of his large hands around the top of your arms where he’d previously held you. It’s evident he’d seen all of your interaction with Miles, and that he wasn’t too pleased about it.

His gaze is hard and predatory as he glares at Bletchley, giving such a harsh look that it makes you freeze, until he looks at you and his eyes fall soft again. Before you can mutter an apology and walk away, he does something that surprises you, he smiles and speaks.

“So Yule Ball, no keepers, but how about a beater?” He asks with a smirk, but instead of Bletchley’s Lockhart-esque smarmy routine, this one is genuine. He flicks his eyes towards Bletchley’s frame, dragging on your rejection from the Slytherin Keeper. “Gryffindor though of course.” He flashes you a wide smile, his eyes shining as he winks at you and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face involuntarily.

“Oh, George needs a date?” You tease, watching from under your lashes at the myriad of expressions that cross his face in under three seconds. At first he’s shocked, then disheartened, then humoured by your little teasing.

“Funny girl,” he shoots back, the mischievous glint in his eyes turning positively devilish.

“What do you say? May I take the wittiest, prettiest girl in all of Hogwarts to the Ball?” He bows down just as he had that day in the bathroom and gestures for your hand once more.

“You may,” you reply, beaming with joy as you place your hand in his much larger one once again. To your surprise, instead of bending down to kiss the back of your hand as he had before, he gently tugs on your arm and you fall weightlessly forward right back into his chest.

In a move that you’ll remember in vivid detail for all of your life, he leans down, long hair sweeping back as he presses those deliciously full lips onto yours, your hands slipping around his very high shoulders to support yourself. The kiss is quick and chaste but you could cry with sheer happiness, his soft lips on your own igniting a wild spark around you.

When you actually hear a firework around you, you pull away in utter confusion, thinking you’d imagined the signature whinny of a flying firework.

“Couldn’t resist,” you hear from the side and twist around, still wrapped around Fred as you look at George who stands with a smug look on his face at the fireworks he’d released. “Least now he’ll stop talking about you all the time.”

“George,” Fred warns.

“Do you think she’ll go the yule ball with me? Wonder if she’ll wear green, should I wear green? She’s so pretty, soooo funny, I wonder what she’s doing now…”

George’s high pitched, mocking voice gets rapidly quieter with each step as he walks away, fading into the background once again and as you turn to look back at Fred, the colour on his cheeks is a rather impressive bright pink blush.

“Wish I had a camera with me,” you say, making his brow knit together into a quizzical frown as he silently questions your words.

“That’s just the shade of pink I wanted my dress to be.”

[invissimp]

Yule Blue ||

Authors notes: I didn't expect to finish this until Saturday or Sunday but Suprise!

Part 1

my requests are open!

Silence, that’s all you and your friends sat in after you confessed your feelings for a certain Slytherin. Hermione wasn’t surprised at your feelings just shocked you said it out loud and around Harry and Ron. The latter let out a gasp and told Harry to pinch him to make sure he wasn’t dreaming which he did and Ron responded with “I didn’t actually mean it!”

Harry just remained sat at the couch with a unreadable expression on his face but it slowly turned into a smile, just a small one which he hasn’t done a whole lot these days. Well at least Harry and Hermione was fine with it. You couldn’t tell with Ron at this point because he was just confused with all the information.

They all sat in a circle around you listening to what you told them about how Draco confronted you in the hall, and how you simply ran away from him.

Thankfully the common room was empty since everyone was either asleep or doing a potions essay. Shivering at the thought of the essay due in a couple of days that you haven’t started on.

“Well why didn’t you just tell him that you fancied him?” The weasley asked like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Harry shook his head at his bestfriends words while you and Hermione just rolled your eyes. Godric you loved Ron as a friend but he really couldn’t read a room for his life.

“Well Ronald if you must know he told me in Hogsmeade that he asked damn Pansy Parkinson to the Ball.”

That was news to your friends, this time it was Hermione’s turn to gasp at your words while Ron and Harry jaws had practically dropped to the floor.

They weren’t stupid by no means, it was obvious something happened with you and Draco but none of them would guess something like that could’ve done it.

“Let’s just talk about it tomorrow, yeah?”

————

The conversation did not continue into the next day, a week had pass and it was now the day of the Yule Ball. Obviously you avoided Draco, you could feel him staring at you in the Great hall, in classes, the hallways, everything.

He of course tried to talk to you but thankfully one of your friends were always by your side, one time even the Weasley twins stared him down to get him away from you.

Although you were thankful about your friends being protective, you wished that you could just take a stroll around the school without being followed.

As of now you were sitting in the common room with Harry and Ron, the two boys were talking about dates for the Yule ball while you were writing a letter to Narcissa Malfoy.

It seemed as though Draco didn’t inform her about you ignoring him, since his mother seemed very happy in her letter saying how she wants you to come over during the summer holiday for a week.

Narcissa was a very kind woman and a wonderful mother to her son even if he was a brat sometimes to people. She would be devastated if she found out Draco’s only true friend was purposely ignoring him about a stupid ball.

You decided to simply face Draco, standinf up from the floor just to be asked, “Y/N can you go to the ball with me, I’m only asking because I need one. Just as friends though.”

The boy who lived asked you to the Yule ball. As friends but still. You expected to be standing in the corner watching your friends dance with each other and Draco dancing with Pansy.

But now? Now you can go with one of your best friends and simply enjoy with others although it wouldn’t be as fun if you could dance with Draco. But not everything works out fine.

“Yeah Harry that’s fine.” You could tell by his shoulders going down some to signal that he was less stressed by the pressure of having to find a date, even if it was just a friend. Harry of course would’ve preferred to go with Cho Chang but just like you not everything works out fine.

Ron groaned in his hands, “Blimey i’m the only one that doesn’t have a date in the whole school ain’t I?”

Laughing at Ron’s words, even though he shot a deadly look at you. Harry just rolled his eyes at his friend and thanked you for going with him last minute.

Nodding at his gratitude before sitting back down to finish your homework. It was really last minute since the ball was tomorrow. Which meant Christmas was tomorrow.

———

Waking up to the sound of Lavender squealing about how it was Christmas and the Yule ball. Rolling your eyes at her voice.

Walking down to the common room to see your friends already sitting waiting for you. “Happy christmas.” You grumbled rubbing your eyes.

Opening up your presents, A couple muggle books for Hermione that she heard you talking about, Ron gave you a chess board claiming that “it can finally help you beat me.” Harry got you some new quills since you were running low on them.

Opening up one last gift you already knew who it was that gave it to you. He still cared enough to give you a Christmas gift. Unwrapping the small gift to see a small box which opened.

Opening it up to see a necklace with a small black swan it. Just like how he said his ornament was going to be. You hadn’t looked at the trees at all so you had no idea if he did stick to his end of the deal, you did though.

Putting the necklace on and it felt right at home like it’s been there ever since you were born. Maybe you should try to talk to Draco tonight at the ball.

Hermione pulled you up to the dorm to get ready for the ball. Although you weren’t all that nervous but Hermione was rambling about how she hopes she doesn’t embarrass herself in front of Viktor and everyone during the opening dance of the champions.

Now your stomach was doing flips, you completely forgot about having to dance with Harry in front of everybody. You weren’t nervous about dancing with him, just hoping that you wouldn’t end up tripping and falling in front of everyone.

You assured Hermione that everything would be fine with Viktor and how great they would be tonight together.

———

Doing the last finishing touches on yourself, your hair was now done, along with your makeup. Hermione left just a few minutes ago. Realizing that you were running out of time and quickly put on your dress.

Harry told you that he was wearing simple black robes so the color of your dress didn’t have to match with his thankfully. You had chosen a simple long green dress. Making sure that you still wore your necklace you received this morning.

Walking out of the Gryffindor common room and down the steps to where mostly everyone was waiting to go. The hall erupted into whispers with everyone gasping and pointing up at you.

You saw Harry standing with the other champions by the doors which were starting to open. You locked eyes with a pair of grey ones. Bloody hell did Draco look nice tonight.

Putting on a normal face while walking by him. Feeling him pull your arm towards him and him leaning down to whisper in your ear. “You should’ve been here tonight with me. Not potter, not that damn Steven Bottom either.” He whispered with no remorse in his voice. It was all in a demanding type of way.

Swallowing nothing in your mouth before walking away and up to Harry. You could feel the blood rush up to your face. “What did Malfoy want?”

“I’ll um tell you later.”

Nodding at your response. After a short while everyone was in the great hall and it was time for the Champions to come in.

Now you were on the dance floor with Harry and the other Champions. Looking over at Hermione to see her smiling at Viktor. You saw Ron standing next to Padma looking like he would rather get bit by Sirius in his dog form again.

You felt someone staring holes into the back of your head. You didn’t even need to turn around to know that it was a Malfoy.

The music started playing, you and Harry started dancing together. It was just two friends dancing together. The opening dance didn’t take long thankfully and Harry excused himself to talk to Ron.

Nodding at him while deciding to go talk to a few of your other friends. Stopping by Fred, George and Angelina to talk with them.

Walking over to the trees which were decorated. You were informed that the professors decided what was the best ornaments and they would be hung up. Right dead in the center of the biggest tree was a Black swan right next to a White one.

So he did stick to his end of the deal. Smiling softly at the thought of Draco. Interrupting your thoughts was a cough next to you. It was Draco you recognized it immediately, since it was his fake one which he used to get your attention in class.

“They make quite a good match dont they?” He said more like a statement than question. Nodding at him, what he said earlier in the hall still hadn’t left your mind. That’s all you could think about.

“I mean what I said earlier, I shouldn’t have been such an idiot about not asking you to the ball. I’ve fancied you since second year and I have no clue why I haven’t done anything about it.” Taking a deep breath at his words before going on, “It made me feel some type of way when you said Bottom was practically asking you to this and when I saw you with damn Potter. It just wasn’t right. You should be my date right now.”

Taken aback by Draco Malfoy basically love confession to you. Taking a glance at him to see he was staring right at you waiting for your response. “Your a bloody idiot you know that right? You're lucky I fancy you to.”

He seemed visibly relieved by your words. He took a step closer to you, closing the distance “So you wouldn’t be bothered if I did this then?”

Letting out a weak no to his question before he leaned down and connected your lips with his. It was pure bliss, nothing you’ve ever felt before with a person.

Breaking the kiss between you two, the slytherin stood up straight.

“I believe you owe me a dance.”

———

Taglist

@le000xxgrd @ttsbaby01 @princessvader15 @naya29 @ashdoctor

[talesof-old]

nightly studies | c.w.

pairing(s): charlie weasley x male!reader

warning(s): 18+, smut, blowjobs, slight edging, very slight voyeurism?, sharing an apartment, shower sex, needy reader, reader has a penis, not proofread or edited, i don’t know what i’m doing i wrote this in one sitting

word count: 1.7k

a/n: so originally the request was for while charlie and reader were at hogwarts but that would make them underage so i changed it so they’re working at the romanian dragon reserve

i did change the request just a tad, so i hope that’s fine!

masterlist

charlie weasley + smut

You’d been listening to Charlie talk about the characteristics of the Antipodean Opaleye for at least thirty-five minutes. You glanced at the clock on the apartment wall and grimaced.

23:49.

You shifted in your seat, pants rubbing against your dick in an unforgiving tease, leaving you nearly gasping. It couldn’t be helped; Charlie was most attractive when he talked about the things he was passionate about, and one of those things just happened to be dragons. The two of you had been studying for the newest addition to the Romanian dragon reserve for hours at this point.

One glance over at Charlie solidified the inkling that stopping for release would not be an option. You sighed, grabbing your previously abandoned quill and marking the notes sheet you’d made.

“-and it’s got to be one of the prettiest dragons I’ve ever seen.”

You nodded along, finishing your note about adult breeding habits. At least someone was getting ducked down.

A gentle hand touched your thigh, high enough that you nearly jumped out of your skin. “You alright, love?” Your face burned but you hummed, nodding at the redhead. He leaned closer, head just inches from yours.

“Are you certain?”

You rolled your shoulders back and spared him a glance. His eyes glittered in the soft candlelight, which under any other circumstances would have you kissing him like a starved man. He jerked his chin towards your papers. You huffed, handing him the pages with words still damp from ink.

“Blimey, you’ve gotten far more done than I have.” You shook your head. A soft smile fought its way to your lips; of course Charlie Weasley didn’t have to write any of the information down, he was Charlie Weasley. The other dragonologists didn’t joke about him being the Walking Dragon Encyclopedia for nothing.

“Not all of us can keep all of that information in our brains.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. The stubble on his chin rubbed against the sensitive flesh of your face, reminding you of a much different place you’d like to feel it. You shifted in your seat again. The boner you’d been rocking for what felt like an eternity seemed to grow more sensitive with every moment. If you glanced up, you might’ve noticed the all too knowing smile on Charlie’s face.

Silence fell over the both of you, save for the scratching of quills against parchment or the clinking of metal in ink pots. It droned on and on, echoing like a drum in your ears. Charlie, potentially intentionally (and infuriating) oblivious, dutifully wrote out the notes he imagined he’d need later.

A part of you hated him for it.

The other part of you ended up winning, however. A quick glance at the clock told you it was twenty past midnight. Your shared roommate’s shift ended in just a little over an hour.

“How much longer you got?”

Charlie’s brow furrowed in mock innocence as he flipped through several pages then turned to you.

“Dunno, maybe a chapter?”

You clicked your tongue. “You have fifteen minutes. Please come to the bedroom when you’re done.” He simply blinked at your request; a borderline plea for him to follow.

“Love, you know I love you dearly, but why…?”

You stacked your own books neatly, putting a lid on your ink pot and organizing your paper. His expectant words had you gnawing at the inner part of your cheek.

Heat spread across your neck. Was he really going to make you explain yourself? Truly?

Instead, you stood.

In moments, Charlie’s face was beat red, though the shit-eating grin on his face let you know he was far from embarrassed—or surprised. You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face and shuffling to the bedroom.

“Be there soon as I finish, love. Don’t get started without me.”

His words turned firm. You bit your lip, closing the door behind you and undressing quietly. Night shifts sometimes ended earlier than normal due to the overlap of shifts, so there was a chance your roommate Sasha would be back at any moment.

You crawled into bed, clad in nothing but underwear, body nearly trembling with anticipation. Exhaustion weighed heavily on your eyelids despite the tension that seemed to snake through every inch of your being. Sleep would come quickly tonight.

Your cock ached at the lack of touch, enough that you seriously debated starting without your boyfriend. Time dragged as you laid among the soft sheets. Another glance at the clock.

00:52.

You groaned, head flopping back onto the pillow. Privacy was rare to come by these days, especially at the Sanctuary. Both of you loved your job with every fiber of your being, but damn if it didn’t sometimes get to you. It was like being in school all over again.

The door creaked open and Charlie’s sheepish smile instantly had you raising a brow.

“Sasha’s back.”

You nearly wept.

“Come on, I’ve got an idea.”

Charlie crossed the room to tug you from the bed, all but dragging you into the bathroom. The cogs in your brain slowly but surely started turning. A grin spread across your face.

“Shower sex? Really? Well you sure know how to seduce someone.” Charlie shook his head and wrapped his arms around you, peppering your face and neck with kisses. You hummed at the affection, tracing over the burn marks on his arms.

“Need to drown out the noises, rather not have him walk in on the two of us.”

Your dick throbbed at the idea of potentially getting caught. Charlie turned, switching on the shower and letting it warm up. In the meantime, you stripped down completely with him following suit, both nude in the chilly bathroom. Your cock slapped against your abdomen as you waited for the water.

“Remind you of anything?”

You laughed as you conjured up an image of the prefect bathroom.

“Perhaps one too many fond memories.”

He reached a hand under the water to test the temperature. With a nod, you were stepping into the rather small shower cubicle. He settled behind you, nipping at the skin of your shoulder as he reached around you to splay a hand over your abdomen. You clamped your mouth shut to avoid the keening noise that would’ve erupted from your throat.

“Careful, love.”

You leaned against the wall, desperate for stability as his hand lowered, gliding over skin until he gripped your cock at the base. You bucked your hips, the sensation too much and not enough. Red hot pleasure nearly blinded you as Charlie fondled your balls, your legs trembling at the sudden assault.

“I’m too tired to shag. Give you a jobby?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to open your mouth.

He was down on his knees in an instant, lips smacking before he turned you to face him. He leaned you against the wall, legs just barely parted for balance. Charlie guided your cock to his mouth, lips parting as he took you in. You gasped, already far too close from how long you’d waited. He inched you further into his mouth until you were as far as you could go. Your eyes rolled back as he gave an experimental suck, his tongue warm and soft against your sensitive flesh.

Pleasure coiled in your gut like a spring. If he wasn’t careful, you’d blow a load quicker than a virgin.

“Charlie-“ You weren’t even sure what you were going to say, especially as he drew back and began licking at the veins of your dick. Warm water pelted against your side. You choked, reaching a hand out to the wall as he kitten licked all the way up the length of you. He paused for a brief moment, long enough that you looked down.

His hair was halfway in his eyes, sipping wet as he regarded you like something divine. Your knees went weak.

“Beautiful.”

His lips attacked themselves to your balls, already taut from holding back a rapidly impending orgasm, and you used your free hand to cover your mouth.

He grinned, moving to lick one long stripe on the bottom of your cock to the tip. Your hips bucked against his face. He loosened his jaw, careful of his teeth, and allowed you to sink back into his warm hole.

You shook, teetering on the edge of climax, though you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed.

He sucked, bobbing his head up and down as if daring you to cum in his mouth. You moaned loudly against your hand, trembling like a baby fawn as you felt your balls tightened and your cock pulsed. Your hips involuntarily jerked, sending you deeper into his mouth. The tip of your dick hit the back of his throat, and instead of choking he sucked hard.

Just as you nearly fell over the edge, Charlie pulled away. You whined, tears filling your eyes at the denial. Reasonably, you knew he was trying to wear you out. But you’d rather cum right now. Charlie rubbed his cheek against your thigh, far too tender for what he’d just done.

“Don’t be mad, lovely.”

You inhaled sharply as your climax slowly faded away.

He pressed kisses to your inner thighs, alternating between sucking hard or gently licking at the skin, desperate to mark up your skin. He gripped your legs, his fingers digging in as he returned his attention back to your cock.

Your chest heaved as he sucked on your head, running a tongue over your slit. Your hands splayed across the tile of the shower, unsteady in their search for solid ground.

He took you deeper, your abdomen tensing as you rapidly approached your orgasm once more. Your body ached with desire. He bobbed his head, each motion sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Late nights always heightened your sensitivity.

You bucked against his mouth, moaning as he swirled his tongue around your shaft.

Charlie hummed, and all of a sudden it was too much. You cried out, white flashing across your eyes as you came. Charlie swallowed, throat still massaging you through your orgasm. You whined weakly, panting as your vision returned. Charlie slowly pulled you from his mouth, patting your thigh as you groaned. He wrapped his arms around you. You leaned heavy against him, body shaky.

He kissed you hard, salty cum still on his tongue as he did. You moaned against his mouth, almost desperate to have another go at the taste of you still lingering.

A bang on the bathroom door had you jumping in his arms.

“Are you two done now? I need to take a piss!”

You laughed quietly, resting your head against Charlie’s shoulder.

“We need to get our own place.”

+++

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Buffed Brass and Baritones - An Arthur Shelby/Reader One Shot Story.

A bit of Arthur smut, besties? Yes. Why not. Inspired by a statement shared by my lovely @call-sign-shark earlier today. This is for you, babe!

(GIF credit - @edmundhoar)

Words - 1,114

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

You’d never considered the Birmingham accent to be particularly sexy before, you had to admit. That was until Arthur fucking Shelby opened his mouth and let that rumbling baritone out, of course. Now, well... the man could recite something as simple as a grocery list to you and you’d probably come on the spot, such is your weakness for those deep, gritty tones.  

“Are ya all finished, bab?” he asks as you meander outside of the back room door within The Garrison. “Everywhere nice and clean, is it?” 

Instantly, your knees tremble. “Yes, Mr Shelby. Absolutely spotless.” 

“Good.” His eyes rake over you, lips curling into a wide grin. “Then how’d ya fancy getting a bit dirty, eh?” 

Did... did he really just proposition you?  

“Well?” he barks, making you jump a little. “No good you standing there floundering like a bloody fish! Do you want me to fuck ya, or not?”  

“I mean, yes, but...” 

“Well then!” He rises from his seat, pointing in the direction of the bar. “Get your clobber off, go on!”  

You know he’s loud and uncouth, but still, you’re taken by surprise, rooted to the spot, Arthur letting out a sigh as he reaches for you. “Fine, fucking fine! I’ll get your bloody clobber off!” Throwing you over his shoulder like a little rag doll, his big hand smacks hard against your bum, your squealing giggle filling the empty pub.  

He seats you right at the very end of the bar, yanking you close, kissing you with all the passion and torrent of a storm, lithe body pressing to yours as his hands force your knees apart. Your shoes drop from your feet onto the floor, Arthur wasting no time in pulling your dress up. 

Your eyes suddenly widen. “Shit! I’m not wearing my good knickers.” 

He doesn’t miss a beat, raising an eyebrow at you as he yanks them off. “And now you’re wearing no knickers at all, bab.” Pushing your thighs apart, a rumble of desire sounds his throat as he sees your cunt splayed before him. “Blimey, ain’t you pretty.” 

He dives straight in with no hesitation at burying his mouth against your folds, hungry tongue roving over you before settling to beat back and forth over your clit. Your hips rise, your mouth dropping open, staggered by the fast pace of it all. Arthur isn’t a man who entertains wasting time, though. Sex with him surely would never be any different.  

He’s completely unrelenting with you, sucking on your bud greedily as he groans deep, the sound settling over your bones as the pleasure lights you up like a firework. His fingers sink into the soft of your thighs, eyes twinkling at you as he watches you enjoy it, smiling at you with a wink. “Like that, don’t ya?” 

“Oh my bloody god!” you cry, you voice pinched tight. “How can anyone be so good with their tongue?” 

He rumbles a chuckle. “Lots of practice, bab.” You don’t doubt that for a second. God, if he was yours, you’d never let him come up for air. He then slows, making you glimmer with long, flat licks, slowing until you begin to whine and shake.  

“Fucking hell,” he groans, the tip of his tongue beating rapidly over your clit. “You’re drowning me.” 

“Sorry,” you pant, feeling a little self-conscious.  

He eyes you curiously, snorting a soft laugh. “Ain’t a a bad thing, love. Ain’t a bad thing at all.” He gives you a few more glimmer-evoking licks before straightening, hands moving to unhook his braces and undo his trousers. “I think you’re ready to get fucked now, beautiful.” 

Pulling his cock out, he pushes straight into you… and in… and in… and… 

“Jesus, Arthur!” you gasp, mouth falling open. “How bloody long is it?” 

His grin is so snugly self-assured as he finally bottoms out, dragging back once more. “Long enough to make a donkey cry if I stood next to him naked.” 

You laugh, and it turns into a shrill cry as he doesn’t hesitate in beginning to drive into you like a piston.  

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!” you grit, Arthur tossing your legs over his shoulders, smiling at how much you immediately love being on the receiving end of his long, hungry cock. 

“Mmm, a pretty girl with a foul mouth,” he pants, turning his head to kiss your ankle. “My favourite kind.” Giving you the kind of pounding that has your screams filling the room, your body is shunted against the bar forcefully, your mouth hanging open in exclamation. He then slows, enjoying the hot, tight clutch of your cunt, his eyes falling to watch how his cock sparkles in the dim light, glazed in the velvet wet of you. 

You can barely belive you’re doing it. You’re actually having sex with your boss, the man you’ve dreamed of for months. He is the sexual splendour you’ve always fantasised about, stroking your walls so deftly, so deeply, the power behind him barely contained. He leans to you, tugging your dress and bra down, his mouth raining kisses across your flushed chest, tongue seeking your nipples, circling slowly, slowly.   

Adding a little more speed to each teasing thrust, he begins to stoke the bonfire of your pleasure, your flames crackling, feeling unmoored entirely. Your slippery walls flex around him in appreciation of his assailing, igniting you with the delicious depth of each thrust as you sheathe him, crying out, his hands bracketing your waist.  

Something within him breaks at hearing your shrill wails, and once again he begins to pound into you with unmatched ferocity, giving you all that you craved, his self-control abandoned, his graveled groans intoxicating to your ears.   

“Look how good you take it. Mmmm, yeah. What a fucking good girl.” 

Everything is wild, fervid, uncontained and magmatic, both of you spiralling headlong into the kind of release that has your moans and groans filling the air along with the sound of your skin smacking together. It capsizes you, an undoing of all-consuming magnitude charging through you, the god-given talent of his fuck rendering you a shaking, panting mess beneath him.   

“Bloody hell,” he pants, forehead rested between your breasts, placing a kiss on your sternum. “Dunno what else to say other than bloody hell!” 

“You could say anything, Arthur, and it would leave me knock-kneed,” you gasp, reaching to stroke his hair. 

“What,” he begins, turning his head to kiss your inner wrist, “even more knock-kneed than fucking you so hard atop the bar, your arse has probably buffed the brass?” 

You pull a thoughtful face as he begins to laugh. “Maybe not that much.”  

[mactavishsgfandwife]

141 and Their Embarrassing Childhood Haircuts (HC)

just a silly idea i had about what funny haircuts the 141 boys would have been given as children (that they would definitely find embarrassing) and how they’d react to you seeing it simon’s is a little sad (☹️) but mostly just silly fluff not proofread because it’s wayy too long (oops)

his aunt leaves the both of you alone in the sitting room, on her way to procure some tea for you all. on your own in the room with him, you begin to wander around and inspect the mementos that line the walls. your fingers trace a trail along the top of the bookshelf and over the filing cabinet, before you turn your attention to the collection of little family photos on the mantelpiece.

mostly, they’re photos of relatives you don’t recognise - wedding photos, holiday snaps, the compulsory photo of a toddler in a bubble bath - but right in the middle is a small blue picture frame, with little angels painted around it and, well, the photo inside…

you burst into a fit of giggles and his head turns from the random bowl he was closely inspecting, on the side table next to his seat, to you.

"what is it?" he grins as he looks up at you, amused.

but when you turn the picture frame to him so that he can see, that entertained chuckle turns into an audible groan…

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

i feel like simon was definitely that kid in class when you were about 6 who had a shaved head

like, a little boy with a buzzcut that was never allowed to be grown out

si probably got some judgement as a little kid for looking a bit ‘rough’ :( when in reality he was just a normal, sweet kid who liked batman and angel delight (this cheap pudding from the 70s that we have in england which you mix with milk to make a mousse kind of thing, it’s lowkey so good and it’s random but i swear simon would have loved angel delight as a kid)

i reckon his dad buzzed his hair and probably wasn’t very gentle about it

a photo of simon as a little kid, in his blue primary school uniform. he’s got no hair - well, as close to no hair as you can get without actually razoring it off. gappy teeth, a big smile and the beginnings of adult si’s strong nose. he’s pretty cute, and the photo is a little yellowed from age, with a little tear in the corner.

"oh, god…" he groans, finding the photo a little humorous, "don’t remind me."

"you look so cute!" you laugh softly, "how old were you here..?"

"pfft… probably about 6 or 7," he shrugs, seeming a little dismissive.

"have you ever not had a buzzcut?"

"you’re not seeing those photos, love," he laughs out loud, and stands up to take the photograph from you.

he goes to put the photo back, to bring the focus of the conversation to something else, but for a second you think you almost catch his thumb gently stroke the cheek of the little boy in the photo, a momentary sadness in his eyes. but that’s only for a moment, and as he places the frame back into its proper place, he grins and turns to you.

"what, y’think it’s a good look? reckon it’d suit you, we could match."

Captain John Price

bowl cut.

i just imagine price’s mum placing a literal bowl on his head and just cutting around it, as he sits on a stool in the kitchen

and he would have turned up to school the next day feeling like such a handsome little boy because his mum had told him how smart he looked 😭 bless

a photo of price, wearing his scouts uniform with pride, turned slightly to the side to display the ‘merseyside scouts’ patch on his sleeve and the union jack on his chest - but the star of the show was that ungodly bowl cut on his head. it was like something out of an old yearbook photo, and he looked very pleased with himself and all his scouts badges, despite the medieval squire-esque trim. it was funny, but he was also a really cute kid.

"ah," he chuckled, standing up to get a better look, "blimey, what a haircut…"

"i like it! i think you should go back to this, honey. it’s a good look."

"i’m not so sure about that," he teases, "but if you really want me to…"

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish

johnny is pretty energetic, i feel like he would definitely have cut his own hair as a kid - terrible fringes and very wonky moptops galore. and he definitely did it more than once.

imagine his mum is just making tea, having left him playing with some arts and crafts supplies. but when he runs in giggling, a pair of paper scissors in his hand, she screams and almost drops the saucepan. much to his amusement

"JOHNNY, DÈ RINN THU?!" (johnny, what have you done?!) as she chases him down the hallway to take the scissors away before he can do any more damage

it’s a photo of johnny, aged 5 or 6, beaming as he poses with the glasgow rangers goalkeeper allan mcgregor. you only know who he is because johnny’s mentioned once or twice before meeting the goalkeeper of some random scottish football team in 2002, as if he met brad pitt or the king of england.

at first, it looks like his hair was ruffled by the football player, but then you realise… it’s just cut like that? as johnny peeks over your shoulder, he laughs, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"oh, i remember! best day of my life at the time. until I met you, that is," he grins.

"i like the haircut," you tease, pointing to his uneven fringe in the photo, with random patches of long and short hair scattered throughout.

"oh, aye, i was a little hairdresser!"

"don’t quit your day job," you smirk, gently placing the photo frame back down on the mantlepiece. he laughs at the cheeky grin appearing on your face, and shakes his head,

"aww, y’don’t like it? thought girlfriends were supposed to be supportive, y’know."

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

honestly i wasn’t sure what to write for gaz, given i don’t think he would be rocking the literal bowl cut or walking around bald at 5 years old

but like every victim of curly hair ever (i can relate) i bet he got something stuck in his hair 😭 whether that was comb, or gum, or something really random (once i genuinely got a live snake stuck in my hair lmfao)

"kyle, look!" you laugh, beckoning him over to look at the photo you found. when he sees it, he lets out a groan…

"god, my scalp still hurts from that…" he laughs softly, rubbing his head as he looks at the photo of himself at 8 or so years old. with a superman action figure stuck in his hair. how did that happen? honestly, who knows. his eyes are a little red, and his cheeks are shiny from tears, but it seems like he’d cheered up by the time the photo was taken, giggling at himself with a big smile on his face, as his mum desperately tried to untangle the mess he’d gotten himself into.

"how do you even do that?" you grin, feeling his hand resting on your back, his thumb gently rubbing up and down your spine. he shrugs, with a laugh.

"i really don’t know. had to embrace baldness for a bit, but i think i was more upset that superman got thrown in the bin. that was the real tragedy."

"aww… i’ll buy you a new one, if you like," you tease, just as his aunt returns with the tea.

this. took. YEARS. to write. 😭 and it’s miles long. thanks for reading!