#mime london

[loureviewsblog]

A chat with George Mann from theatre company Ad Infinitum and Ramesh Meyyappan about their new collaboration Last Rites.

[who-do-i-know-this-man]

⚠️Vote for whomever YOU DO NOT KNOW⚠️‼️

[axolotlbloddy]

Fusion au

Fusion:

Mr Tops

Babadook

Edward C Burke

Phantomimes?

Sorry for me Phantomimes is freak me out TwT

[jerrykinoff]

Hmmm

Eiffel tower you say

of course it was a mime Tommy reference! nothing else! not at all! I love Paris!

[world-of-advice]

[coconutcows]

Genuinely debating getting the Global Go Fest ticket. If it was closer to $10 there wouldn’t be a debate but $20 Canadian is a little pricey for an unknown shiny boost rate over two days and access to Diancie

What do you guys think??

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was young I was dating this absolute cocknob right as I graduated high school. More on that later.

As a present ostensibly to me (but mostly my folks) I was whisked away after graduation to spend two weeks in Europe with my parents. The plan was to see London, Paris, and Heidelberg.

I was moody and a teenager and was largely disgruntled by this fabulous adventure. I went along with sullen foot dragging and black looks. I commandeered my reprehensible boyfriends enormous black hoodie and wore it on the trip. At the start of our jaunt into London I mentioned offhandedly to my mom that it was burning when I peed.

“You’re just dehydrated, and your period is about to start.”

She was right on both counts. I upped my water content, and had my period (which may have contributed to my overall ill humors.)

So we found ourselves in a tiny hotel in Paris, a week into our jaunt, when I repeated, “Man, it just really burns when I pee.”

“What?!” my mom demanded.

“I told you like a week ago that it was burning.”

“Augh! Now we have to go to the hospital!” she proclaimed.

“What?! Why?”

“Because,” she snapped, “You have a bladder infection.”

More bickering ensued, and my temperament was not improved by knowing I’d told her I was having an issue a week ago and been ignored.

My dad heard about the itinerary shift with resignation and we trooped down the narrow stairs as a family to ask the concierge where the nearest hospital was.

The absolutely lovely man at the desk was immediately so concerned when we asked for directions. “Is everything okay?” he asked with very genuine sympathy and I muttered that everything was fine, we just needed a quick visit.

Lucky for us the hospital was only a few blocks away. We walked there and the building was massive, home to what appeared to be several separate wings but no obvious main entrance.

We wandered inside and it was like a weird dream. There was no one around. Huge echoing corridors met us as we peered in vain for a front desk or possibly signs. We searched with increasing frustration for anyone to talk to and somehow found ourselves in some tiny back offices.

A woman sat at her desk and looked bewildered to see three lost Americans approaching her. She greeted us and as a family we all simultaneously realized the massive flaw in our current course.

You see, dear reader, we did not speak French. My dad and I both spoke German. I inquired politely if she also spoke German and she shook her head looking increasingly cornered. We asked if she spoke English.

“Leetle…?” she replied.

“My daughter has a bladder infection! Blad-der?” My mother declared this at a high volume as if volume alone could bridge the communication gap, while simultaneously miming over my stomach, circling where she presumed my pelvis was under the gigantic black sweatshirt.

The woman’s expression turned extremely skeptical and she slowly repeated “Bladder…” She scrutinized me for a moment then said, “You go…. This?” And pointed to something purple on her desk.

“The purple signs?” my dad asked.

She nodded and we set off. I was stewing with resentment at my mom for having ignored my first complaint when we were in a country that spoke English. And also generalized hostility about being on the trip and the object of miming. Now here we were in a French hospital, lost and unable to communicate. I also was under no illusions that someone who didn’t know the word for purple would have any clue what bladder meant.

And slowly I realized what had actually happened as I peered at the purple signs. My mother circling my stomach with her hands, gesturing to my middle. The woman’s skeptical face.

“Hey mom,” I chirped, syrupy and smug. “I don’t speak French. But I do know that it’s a Latin based language. And wouldn’t you know, but that purple sign looks an awful lot like it says ‘maternity’ to me.”

“Shut up!” she snapped.

A few minutes later we stood surrounded by the moans of pregnant people and the cries of fresh new lungs wailing at their first taste of cold air.

I smiled sweetly at my disgruntled mother.

Luck was with us however. A nearby father noticed us and came over to ask if we needed help. With perfect English he gave us clear directions.

As we finally approached the right area for walk in services it was clear how we’d missed it the first time. A large swathe of the front of the building was covered in tarps. A huge wall sized window was broken, and construction was taking place, but at least it had a bustle of people and a clear line. We sat down in the queue of chairs.

While we sat some police officers came in. They walked up to a man ahead of us in line and with few words exchanged they handcuffed and led him politely away.

I was genuinely so out of reality. Every new thing that happened was like a bizarre dream from the empty hallways to the maternity ward and now this tarp strewn waiting room in which people could just be calmly arrested.

It was a shock to me then when we reached the front and the nurse spoke with perfectly unaccented English to assess me. Not only did she know bladder but a whole slew of other medical words I couldn’t guess at. I peed on a stick and we waited.

When we got the results she told me it was good because they could give me antibiotics today for my now confirmed infection, but bad because I’d need the doctor to sign off. I nodded and my mom and I were escorted to yet another small room to wait.

When the doctor arrived I felt suddenly gangly and awkward. I’m not tall but I towered over this tiny French woman who radiated calm composure. She seemed to be around my grandmothers age. She looked up at my blushing face and said, “Bladder infection?” Her English had a much stronger accent than the nurse but with the same medical competence.

I nodded.

She nodded too and we sat in a still contemplative moment on my UTI.

“Do you have… boyfriend?”

My face was on fire, every cell of me wanting to flee from this tiny perfect old woman. I nodded.

She nodded too. We sat still in the knowledge that I had a boyfriend and a UTI.

“Do you and your boyfriend do… it?” Her delicate accent stretched it into “eet.”

I don’t know if she didn’t know the word for sex or if she thought saying “it” was kinder but I wanted to melt into the floor and cease to exist to escape my increasing mortification and her meaningful pause. I nodded.

“Okay,” she said kindly. “When you and your boyfriend do… it… you must make pee pee.”

I writhed slightly under the psychic damage of this elegant medical professional saying “pee pee” and I nodded more emphatically hoping she’d desist this torture.

She continued. “If you and your boyfriend do… it… five times? You make five pee pees. If you do it ten times, you make ten pee pees.”

My face had never been hotter, all the blood in my body had volcanoed to my head, pounding in my ears and valiantly attempting to give me an aneurism to end my suffering. There is no mortification as acute to a teenager as an adult talking about sex and here was this medical professional telling me about… it.

Meanwhile, my mother. Who should have been regretting her poor parenting and reflecting on her neglect in failing impart this vital part piece of sex ed to her kid. Alas, she was laughing herself sick the corner. She added to my embarrassment by quietly repeating “pee pee” and “it” under her breath as she wheezed and chortled.

The doctor patted my hand kindly and handed me the antibiotics. I got to spend the rest of my trip in Europe avoiding direct sunlight and listening to my mother parrot “Do you do… eet?”

[oceantornadoo]

ch8 the wrong john | masterlist | next

tw: dubcon kissing (somnophilia), more pet play dirty talk, multiple holes are used, smut and angst in the same chap bc why not.

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

--

Thankfully, your new boyfriend does not give in to the urge to punch your brother.

“Johnny!” You move out from behind John, in no way afraid of your brother. “You can’t just hit him!” You yell. Johnny’s still as red as a tomato, huffing from the punch he threw. You can tell the captivity took its toll on him, because you’ve never seen him winded from just one punch. Instinct takes over, you and Simon catching Johnny before he stumbles. The doctor from earlier rushes over, telling her radio that they need a wheelchair, stat. The anger slowly drains from Johnny’s face, replaced with a world-weary look. He seems ten years older, a jarring thought since you’re only three minutes apart.

“Johnny, let’s talk about it later, ok?” The wheelchair arrives and you help him into it, Simon fighting off the doctor who’s arguing he needs one too. You try to grab Johnny’s hand but he snatches it back before you can. It’s like a shot to the heart. He avoids eye contact as the doctor wheels him away. Did you just lose your twin?

“Hey, hey, c’mere.” John scoops you up from behind, turning you so you’re against his chest. It’s like a switch has been flipped as the tears flow. You messed up, shouldn’t have let John kiss you in front of your brother. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid. You wanted to give Johnny time to adjust, time to gain his strength back, before slowly broaching the topic in a controlled manner. You did not want a punch to be thrown at 5 am. It was simply too much to handle. John’s fingers dig into the nape of your neck, anchoring you to the moment. He’s so kind, even though he was just punched, and the thought makes you cry harder. 

-

John’s jaw aches, but not as much as his heart does. It’s hard to handle his sweetheart sobbing in his arms, especially since he hasn’t seen her in weeks. The kiss was not his best move, but he blames it on the early hour and lack of sleep. The mission was absolutely grueling, the kidnappers making themselves almost impossible to track. “Almost” because, well, he did get this job for a reason. But now his team is fucked and his new girlfriend has a broken heart he can’t fix. He couldn’t even blame Johnny because if it was his sister, he would have done the same thing.

Kyle went with the doctor, so now it’s just him and his girl on a godforsaken roof on a dreary London morning. He’s been rubbing circles on her back for a while now and can feel the tears slowly stopping, her breathing becoming even. “Feel better?” She shakes her head ‘no’ and he can’t help but laugh. 

“How’s your face?” She asks, pulling back out of his grasp to inspect it. Her eyes are puffy and there’s a bit of snot on her nose. She’s beautiful. “‘S ok. Not the first time I’ve been punched.” Soft fingers turn his jaw this way and that. She sucks in a breath as she inspects the damage. “You’re gonna bruise, John.” The bruise won’t show through his beard so he shrugs, then starts herding her into the elevator. He desperately wants to shower and tuck her under the covers, then maybe eat her out later if his jaw lets him. Hopefully an orgasm would make her a little less sad. 

Thankfully, John gets his way. He’s not a messy man, his cleanliness only rivaling Garrick’s, but his room is suspiciously much cleaner than how he left it. The floors are practically sparkling. When he asks, his pet mimes a zipper, throwing the key away. John picks her up, ignoring the creak of his joints from sleeping on floors for the past week, and throws her on the bed. “Stay.” She nods, eyes big and wet, and it’s a herculean effort to drag himself away. It’s the quickest shower of his life, a little toothbrushing, and he’s finally where he belongs. With her.

“Missed you, sweetheart.” He tugs her on top of him so they’re chest to chest, her cunt on his lower belly. She’s taken off her sweatshirt and shorts, so it’s just two thin layers of fabric that separate them. “I missed you too. You sure you don’t want ice or something? I’m practically best friends with the nurses now, I’m sure they won’t mind.” He rolls them over so he’s between her tits, right at home. “‘M fine. Go t’ sleep.” She finally gets the memo and hums contentedly, fingers scratching at John’s scalp like he’s her cat. He loves it.

-

You wake up to the feeling of something scratching you. Your cat is so annoying.

“Bubbles…stop…” The feeling does stop, but as the fog slowly clears from your brain, you realize your cat is nowhere to be found. John’s beard is the culprit, wet with…spit? He’s pulled your shirt up and from the look of it, has been laving at your tits for a while now. “You mistake me for the cat, sweetheart?” You bite back a smile, shaking your head. “Was dreaming. Please, don’t stop on my account.”

Now that you’re awake, John can start giving you the full treatment. He sucks on one nipple, a callused hand squeezes it like he’s trying to get milk out. Your hips move of their own according, bucking against his hairy chest. The pain feels delicious as he bites and sucks. Your hand threads through his hair, grasping on strands for something to hold. He switches to your other nipple but keeps his hand on your tit, pinching one while sucking another. He’s so loud about it, wet and messy in a way that makes you want to hide your face. Your hips fight gravity as they move, the hair on his chest providing friction as you move up and down. You could come like this.

“John.” He gets the memo, his unoccupied hand gripping your waist and helping you grind against him. “Gonna come, baby?” It’s like a spark to your core, the coil inside you growing exponentially with every grind. He’s leaving marks that might bruise, every bite lighting your nerves on fire. Your cunt is sopping, legs straining with the effort of maintaining your grind. Removing his mouth, he pinches both of your nipples at the same time, the effect of it bringing your right to the edge. 

“Ya like that? Cunny’s all messy, baby.” You can only nod at his words. It’s desperation, your shirt hiked up to your chin, tits shiny with spit, cunt seeping. His beard is soaked, the hair on his chest matting with your slick. Both hands move your hips against his belly and he bites a nipple at the same time, the action sending you over the edge with a whine. Your empty cunt flutters against him, clit puffy from the friction of his hair. “Fuck, John.” He captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, eating your face as you come down from the orgasm. 

John drops your hips, letting your cunt envelop his cock, still in his boxers. You whine at the pressure, a pitiful noise. “Lemme eat then come on you, yeah?” You nod vigorously and he chuckles at the sight. 

He licks you from ass to clit, smiling when you jump at the overstimulation. Your body is on the edge of orgasm, an almost continuation of the first. John eats sloppily, tounging the bud of your clit then flattening his tongue over the whole of it. He nearly drags you off the bed so he can be on his knees on the floor, tugging out his cock with one hand while he holds you steady with the other. That hand holding you steady grips the inside of your thigh, his thumb dangerously close to somewhere else. He prods at it, looking at you for confirmation. You nod tentatively and he slides a bit of his thumb in, giving your clit a good suck at the same time. There’s so much pressure and despite being empty you feel full, like you’re about to explode. John won’t shut up, speaking in between occupying his mouth.

“Y’r so trusting, pet.”

“Bet you were lonely without me.”

“Jus’ one more, yeah? Then I’ll let you sleep.”

You nod at the last one, feeling on edge. He slides his thumb in to the first knuckle, keeping the same pressure on your clit, and you lose it, walls spasming at his touch. Your second orgasm washes over you, your body flopping against the bed as the coil releases. John crouches up with his thumb still in you. His cock is hard and glistening in his hand, the sheen of precum all over it. You tug your shirt up from where it’s fallen and he smirks, his beard making it more pronounced. 

“That’s a good girl. Good pet f’ me.” His cum is thick and creamy, landing on your sore tits as his thumb slips out, the pressure finally releasing. “Jesus, John.” You're soaked in sweat and cum and slick, courtesy of the man in front of you. He leaves and quickly comes back with a warm washcloth, wiping down your body, then his own. “We can shower later.” You nod, making space for him in the bed. You’re both sweating anyways, so he tugs off the comforter so it’s just you and the fitted sheet. 

“You did so good.” He murmurs as you tuck yourself into him. “I like this boyfriend treatment.” You whisper back. He kisses your forehead softly. “Good, ‘cause yer stuck with me.” You kiss his pec, then snuggle in for a few more hours. John holds you until you’re asleep, then quietly slips out and takes a quick shower. The sight of you in his bed almost makes him stay, but there’s someone he needs to talk to.

-

“Ye here to discharge me?” Soap’s all bravado, but it’s hard to sound intimidating in a hospital gown. John lets him have it, picking his way through the room to sit in the chair near Soap’s bed. “‘m not apologizin’.” Soap mutters. John huffs out a laugh. “Didn’t ‘pect you to, Soap. Glad you’re doin’ better.” 

Severe dehydration. Not starved, but close to it. Bruising on wrists and ankles, likely from cuffs. One bruised rib. That’s what the doctor said before he walked in. Simon got the same treatment and he’s resting in the room over, Kyle keeping him company. The outcome is better than he expected, to be honest. Most captors would love to give Soap a beating for every quip, but John suspects being near Simon calmed him down. Another thing he has to thank the Lieutenant for.

The room is silent. There’s only one thing to be said.

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened t’ me.” Soap doesn’t answer, focusing his gaze on the door. “We met the night ‘fore she came to base. Would’ve seen her again no matter what. Yer sister or not.” Soap blinks and John takes that as a sign to go ahead.

“I know y’ve got a special connection. ‘M not here to break it. ‘M askin’ for the chance t’ love her too.” John laughs to himself. “Well, not really askin’, Johnny. But you an’ I have got a life bond too and I’m tryin’ to respect it.” It’s the first time John’s ever called him Johnny. Obviously, being around his girl is starting to affect him.

“Ye love her?” Johnny’s voice is gravelly, not at its usual level of honey-coated confidence. “I do.” Johnny gives a nod of approval, a minuscule dip of his head. “Christ, ah tried hookin’ her up with Gaz.” His captain frowns. “So Kyle’s good ‘nough but not me?” Finally, Johnny locks eyes with him. “Gaz wouldn’t break ‘er heart. Ye would.” John gives him a sour smile. “She rejected me right before I left to find you, actually. She’s been sayin’ we couldn’t date for months an’ I’ve had a ring in my drawer the whole time.”

Johnny groans. He tries to cover his eyes but he’s still hooked up to the IV. “Can’t believe you’ll be my brother-in-law, Cap. Yer so old.” John scoffs. “Could hook Gaz up with y’r cousin an’ we’ll all be related.” That’s what breaks the ice. Both of the men laugh and John reaches over to squeeze Johnny’s shoulder. “That’s the only punch I’ll ever let you have, Soap. Keep that in mind next time you have a twin squabble.”

Johnny’s brows furrow at the mention of his twin. “I need t’ talk to the lass.” John squeezes his shoulder one more time, then stands up. “I’ll find ‘er for you.”

It’ll be the most important conversation of their lives.

-

We got john pov! I hope the switches between John and Johnny weren’t too confusing lol.

Just one chapter left…thank u guys for all the kind comments it means the most <3

-

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[fayes-fics]

Right In Front Of You

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Sometimes, the thing you most need is right in front of you...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, vaginal fingering, smidge of dirty talk, orgasm. Friends to lovers, only one bed.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: Request fill for @eecummingsandgoings, who asked for only one bed trope with Benedict. Thanks to the awesome @colettebronte for beta reading and for the title suggestion! This is a seasonal-ish fic set in early December. Enjoy! <3

“You guys are so late!” 

Melanie draws you into a bear hug after her fond chastisement.

“Blame this one,” you roll your eyes and signal a thumb over your shoulder to Benedict as he wanders up the path behind you. “He was supposed to be on map-reading duty after we ran out of phone signal.”

With a big smile, he mimes being stabbed in the chest before he receives a welcoming embrace as well.

“He’s been shit at directions since uni; why the hell did you have him navigate?” she chimes, taking your coats as you peel them off and hanging them in the hallway cupboard. 

“Because you have experienced his driving,” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, good point,” Melanie guffaws.

“Starting to take this personally now,” Benedict pipes up with a good-natured chuckle as she ushers you both further into the cottage.

“This is nice!” you comment as you survey the place.

Its snug warmth is like an enveloping embrace on this cold, early December day. It's an Airbnb rental in the Lake District and looks suitably rustic but modernised with an open-plan layout—a perfect venue for a uni friends reunion. 

“Well, I'm afraid you two are so late that everyone has already nabbed the good bedrooms,” she announces. “You will have to share the other attic room, two floors up.”

“I'm sure we will be fine,” Benedict blithely responds. 

“It's only got one bed,” she cackles.

“Bagsy the bed!” you crow, turning to look at him triumphantly.

“Fine, I’ll take the floor,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes.

While chivalrous, it also seems fair payback, given that he got you so horrendously lost on a single-track country lane, going miles in the wrong direction. Sharing the drive up from London was supposed to take about five hours, not the almost seven that it ended up being by the time you eventually got back on the right road. 

Leaving your bags in the hallways, you greet and join the gaggle of friends in the living room area, crowding onto the sectional sofa and beanbags. Melanie, always the mother hen of the group, stands across the room at the kitchen island, stirring a huge casserole dish that smells delicious.

“Alright, you bastards, come and get it,” she calls not long after you settle.

So, all twelve of you decamp to the long table, and drinks flow as you tuck into a hearty, tasty stew. The group have come without their spouses or other halves, except Dave and Andrea have been together since the second year and are still going strong more than ten years later—well, and one other exception.

“Matt brought Vanessa?” you comment into Melanie’s shoulder while conversation flows in little groups.

“Yeah, I know,” she winces. “Sorry…”

“No, it's not that. I just think it’s a bit odd. She’ll have to endure so many old uni tales and in-jokes all weekend. She’ll have little idea what we are all on about…” 

Matt is your ex, yes, but you broke up almost a year ago now. You didn't get together until five years after uni, and in hindsight, you wish you never had. Vanessa is his first girlfriend since your breakup. You've been alone since—the only singleton left in the group.

“Drink up,” Melanie advises sagely, refilling your wineglass almost to the brim. “They have the other attic bedroom that backs onto yours, and even though the stone walls here are thick, I've heard rumours she is a loud one.”

“Urgh…” you take a large gulp, not savouring the idea of hearing your ex and his new woman having sex through an adjoining wall.

The rest of the evening passes pleasantly: wine flowing, a lovely time as you all catch up and trade stories. Jon recounts a hilariously disastrous holiday in Portugal that ended happily with him meeting his current partner Simon on the plane home, which earns him a round of applause. 

The first to turn in is Matt and Vanessa, and not long after, others start to yawn and make their excuses, the drive from various corners of the country taking its toll on everyone. 

Benedict grabs your bag as well as his, you trailing behind, making your way slightly gingerly up the second, narrower, steeper staircase to the attic rooms.

“I guess this is us,” he notes, nodding to the only door without a faint lamp glow leaking underneath.

You follow him into the room as he dumps the bags and flicks on a sidelight. It's not big but it’s homely, if a little chilly compared to downstairs, heated by the fireplace as it was.

“Ben, you can’t sleep on the floor; there's a draught,” you remark as you sit on the bed and pull off your fuzzy socks, a coolness wafting over your toes.                                        

“I’ll be alright,” he assures genially, opening the wardrobe to gather a pile of blankets.

“And there's not much room,” you assess, realising the floor space is minimal unless he lays near the chimney, likely the source of the problem. “Seriously, we can share.”

An odd expression clouds his face briefly before he agrees and quickly excuses himself to the bathroom. You do the same after he returns. He is already under the covers, peering at his phone through reading glasses when you shuffle back into the room in your PJs.

“Are you sure about sharing?” he checks as you round the bed to climb into the other side.

“Yes, you idiot,” you chuckle, playfully swatting his leg through the duvet. “Nothing for Paul to worry about,” you add in jest, referring to his boyfriend of over two years now.

He goes so still that you twist to look at him. He is biting his lip with an almost sheepish mein. 

“We, umm, broke up about a month ago,” he elucidates quietly.

“God, I'm so sorry; why didn't you say before??!” 

It strikes you as odd that he never even mentioned it in the hours you were stuck in the car together. He had just sat dutifully, supplying supportive words as you lamented the dating scene. 

“Well, you’ve been away travelling…” 

“I meant today.”

“Oh, well, I guess I didn't really see the point, seeing as everyone has left their plus-ones at home,” he shrugs, then tilts his head back. “Well, apart from that idiot,” he adds, referencing Matt through the wall.

“Yeah, I thought that a bit odd he brought her… but anyway, do you want to talk about it? Paul?” you offer, wanting to give your good friend the opportunity to vent.

“Very kind,” he smiles briefly. “But no. I'm sick of talking about it, to be honest. Daph has been non-stop trying to agony aunt the situation, and Eloise has been plying me with alcohol and barbs about all of my terrible life choices, not just Paul,” he grimaces mildly.

You chuckle, knowing exactly how that has likely been going.

“You know he just brought Vanessa to make you jealous, don't you?” Benedict changes tack, keeping his voice soft even though it's unlikely to carry through the thick stone wall.

“Maybe,” you hesitate, then sigh: “I'm over him and his nonsense, to be honest.”

“You were always far too good for him.”

“Hah!”

“I mean it,” he insists, an abrupt intensity to his gaze that causes butterflies.

There’s no point denying your attraction to Benedict; he's a very handsome man. But it's always felt like a harmless crush; you doubt you are his type, and he’s not been single for many years. 

“You are just trying to butter me up before you take over the whole bed like an octopus and snore in my face,” you deflect with humour.

“You never could take a compliment, could you?” he chastises gently, taking off his reading glasses and setting aside his phone.

“Please, I would never take any compliment from you seriously,” you riposte dryly. “I knew of your charmer reputation from the very first day of uni. Everyone did. Your Bridgerton reputation preceded you.”

“Entirely unfair to be tarred with the same brush as my lothario of a brother,” he sighs with mock burden. “I mean, yes, okay, at uni, I was a little…”

“Slutty?” you interject

“... adventurous..” he corrects with a narrowing of his hazy eyes, “but nothing like the rumours suggest. I just got with a couple of raconteurs early on who vastly overstated my abilities and skills,” he demures.

You know the truth is somewhere in between the polyamorous, bisexual playboy reputation and the modest version he is claiming.

“Besides, that was years ago,” he points out with a dismissive gesture. “I've had a total of five lovers in the last ten years.” 

It is indeed true. Before Paul was Tilly, Tessa, Gen and Henry. He’s been surprisingly monogamous since his earlier, sluttier years.

“Ready to sow your wild oats again?” you ask, bumping him lightly with your shoulder.

“Hah!” it's his turn to scoff.

Just then, a distinct female moan filters through the wall. When it happens again, your eyes dart to each other.

“Oh god, Mel warned me this might happen,” you grumble, burying your head in your hands.

“Told you,” Benedict clucks. “This is definitely designed to make you jealous.”

“Pfft, please. Believe me, he's not that good; she's just a really vocal one, apparently.” 

For some reason, you are keen for Benedict to know Matt is not the best you've had. Not bad, but not exactly worthy of the decidedly rousing review Vanessa is now giving through the wall.

“Want to beat him at his own game?” 

His face is all permission and danger, making your pulse race, uncertain about what that could mean. But then he breaks into a goofy grin and throws back the covers, athletically jumping to his feet on the bed next to you, looking equal parts adorable and attractive in navy tartan pyjama bottoms and a dark grey t-shirt. He takes a few test bounces, the metal springs of the bedframe under the mattress squeaking mildly in protest as he does so.

“C'mon!” he coaxes, grabbing your arms and hauling you upwards onto your feet. “I think with a few bounces and choice noises, we can make our point.”

Perhaps it's mostly the three glasses of wine, but it seems like a funny idea. You both start to bounce, grasping each other's hands and giggling, the bed beginning to rattle against the adjoining wall as you work up a jumping pace.

“Make it sound like you are having the time of your life,” he proposes, laughing.

Your attempted noise of pleasure has you flushing with embarrassment at the feeble result.

“Oh, I know you can do better than that!” Benedict incites, eyes glittering with mischief. 

“I really can't,” you protest.

“Follow my lead. I’m not above a touch of theatrics,” he winks.

Benedict groans loudly, and despite the absurdity of the situation, it makes something run hot and electric through your body. He peers at you expectantly, awaiting your rejoinder. 

You cringe as, once again, your second attempt is lacking.

“Loosen up,” he rags lightly before repeating his very distracting noise. “C’mon, just imagine I am the best sex of your life.”

Your traitorous mind finds it remarkably easy to settle on that idea. Supplying a vivid picture of Benedict looming over you, a beguiling lopsided grin on his face as he takes you apart with long fingers buried between your legs. Just the thought has you biting your lip, but not before a feral noise escapes entirely without you meaning it to.

“Oh yes, that's much more like it,” he looks slightly taken aback but entirely approving. He leans in close as he requests: “Just a little louder.” 

Then with a grin, he turns to face the wall and pounds his fists onto the thick, rough stone. 

“Yeah baby!!”  His decidedly Austin Powers-like call echoes up along the ceiling as he tilts his head back, going fully theatrical.

“WE GET THE FUCKING HINT, BRIDGERTON!!”

Matt’s muffled, annoyed yell through the wall has you exchanging looks before collapsing back down onto the bed and rolling around in fits of quiet giggles.

“Well, it worked… I don’t think you were much help at all, though, if I’m honest,” Benedict opines breezily. “I definitely did the heavy lifting.”

“Perhaps I’m just not a loud sex noises person,” you posit.

“Then you haven’t been having the right sex. Which, given you were dating Matt, is sort of a foregone conclusion,” he needles genially.

“Not all of us are Vanessas… or apparently Benedicts.” 

He laughs heartily before countering: “I bet you could be. I’d happily try to have you screaming the roof down if I thought you’d ever bloody let me…”

It's a record-scratch moment that has your stomach flipping even as outwardly, all you do is scoff at the patently ridiculous idea. He must be kidding. He has never given you any vibes of being remotely interested in you in that way.

“Let you?! Bitch, please. As if you’d want to!” you rebut, wine stealing your filter. 

He turns towards you, seemingly in slow motion, breathing slightly heavy from the recent exertion, his cadence dropping low with words that sound like a warning. 

“Don't play that game.”

“I’m not playing any game,” you frown even as your heart speeds up at the challenging glint in his eye. “Ben, honestly, I… I'm not,” you stutter, all your assumptions about him scattering. “I… I didn't think you saw me that way…”

He twists up to hover over you. It appears he reads the honesty behind your stilted words, surprise rippling across his features before a breathtaking, troublesome look takes its place.

“You never could see what was right in front of you, either, could you?” 

Although rhetorical, you have no response anyway. Buffering as his lip quirks appealingly, a burst of heat behind your ribs as he leans down closer.

“Will you let me?” 

“Let you what?” 

Your whispered response is entirely too breathy and wanton. A delicious crackle in the air as Benedict stares down at you, inches apart, lips and cheeks flushed dark, likely a mirror of your own.

“Test your theory.”

The slow sweep of his glistening tongue over his lower lip breaks your resistance.

“Yes…” 

Your shaky exhale of permission may be barely audible but seems so loud to your own ears. 

And suddenly, his mouth is on yours.

The kiss starts soft and almost hesitant, but alcohol and desire coursing through your veins make you impatient, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck to tug him closer, craving his weight and heat to engulf you. And that is what he does as his lips part yours, his tongue seeking permission you readily give as he presses you into the mattress. It’s a blur as you take from each other greedily, open-mouthed, demanding kisses that never seem to end.

“I need to hear you make that sound again,” he rumbles, kissing over your cheek, snagging your earlobe between his teeth, breath gusting hot into your neck.

Boldly, you grab his wrist and, throwing all caution to the wind, guide it lower between your legs. His fingers curl into the cotton, sinking into the heat, knowing you are seeping through the thin material.

“Are you always so wet?” He whispers, impressed, kissing a line over your throat.

You don’t answer, not wanting to say that it’s all him, instead pulling him in for another searing kiss, hoping he will get the hint. Sure enough, as you suck greedily on his questing tongue, he slowly swipes, locating your swollen clit with just one move. Just that slight nudge has your body alight, stuttering into his mouth, spine arching up off the bed, pushing your breasts into him. 

“I want to make you come,” he admits breathily, dilated pupils trained on you as you squirm under his touch.

“Please do.”

His groan is poetic, an insistent mass nudging your hip promisingly as he leans into you. You glance down, mesmerised by the veins on his hand as he moves to pluck at the bow at your waistband until it relents. His touch spiders under the material, trailing through your trimmed hair and then between your legs, a delicious noise in the back of his throat as his bare fingertips slide into your wetness. 

You want to ride his digits until you are screaming, want them buried in you so far you see stars. Want him to make you suck your juices from between his knuckles, him calling you all the filthy words under the sun as you do so.

“Whatever you are thinking of, tell me,” he pleads, his other hand sweeping into your hair, cradling the back of your head, a slight pull on your scalp that just heightens everything. “I just want you to use me. Take what you need from me; just please make that perfect noise again.”

“God Ben….” You stumble, never having had someone make such an offer before. So much pent-up desire you are quaking as you answer without artifice: “I was thinking of your fingers inside me.”

You don’t even have to ask him for it, he twists his wrist, and you moan as two fingers breach your weeping pussy, a slick noise filling the air as your body suctions onto his invasion. He utters a curse, perhaps taken aback by just how soaked you are. You inhale sharply, grasping the corded muscle of his forearm as he slides deep, his knuckles grazing your walls, reaching places you cannot.

He begins to softly stroke you, massaging in a rhythm that has your mouth slack, staring at him wide-eyed; then his thumb nudges your clit at the same time, and you are unable to prevent the loud staccato groan it elicits.

“Yessss, there it is..” he hisses triumphantly, kissing your temple. 

You nuzzle his cheek until he takes your hint, kissing you again, plundering, you making the noise again, open-mouthed, against his teeth and tongue, dripping onto his palm as he takes you higher, an electric hum racing under your skin. His thumbnail catches deliciously under your clitoral hood as he strums your swollen nub. Somehow it feels illicit, both of you still clothed in your nightwear, a tented outline in his pyjamas nudging your hip as you shamelessly ride now, a dewyness gathering inside your tank top at the flush of desire enveloping your skin.. 

“Come on, sweet girl,” he goads, “ride my hand properly. Use me.”

That term of affection would usually make you bark a laugh, but right now, it’s just blisteringly hot, him wringing the most filthy sodden noises from your body as he rocks in and out of your pussy. 

So you do. 

Scrunch your grip into the duvet beneath you and undulate on him, baring down as he surges inwards, moving like a wave together as he makes noises of encouragement, his lips warm on your cheek. His eyes don't leave your face except occasionally to glance down your writhing body, gaze lingering on your nipples pebbled against your vest. 

His feet entwine around your ankle, holding you down just a little bit, giving you just a little fight that you need, reading you like a book. With a nod and lopsided smirk, he silently bids you to keep going. And you do, getting overheated, chasing that high he is aiding and abetting.

“Don’t hold back,” he tutors silkily into your damp temple, intuiting that you are swallowing back some of the noises you want to make. 

So you follow his bidding. Stop modulating yourself, letting go, leaning into the simmering in your body, each perfect glide of his fingers spiralling you so high it's almost dizzying, your desire running down between your cheeks now. Something daring in you wants to be louder than Vanessa. To make the whole house jealous. Hell, for the entire world to know how good this feels.

He angles to catch your g-spot as well, and it hurtles you rapidly over into the blissful abyss; unable to stop yourself from spasming almost violently, screaming out, him fighting against your convulsions as you fracture apart and reassemble, breath stolen, blood pounding in your ears. You float both high above yourself and grounded in your body as that wondrous quake spreads to every corner of your being.

“That was bloody perfect,” he exhales, a thread of pride etched into his tone as you collapse down, heaving breaths as he withdraws from inside you.

“WE GOT THE FUCKING HINT EARLIER!!” 

Matt’s yell through the wall makes you both still, eyes going comically wide before you both start giggling. Benedict lands a kiss on the tip of your nose as he rolls on top of you, his rigid cock nestled against your inner thigh.

“Well, that just sounds like a challenge to me,” he quirks a seductive eyebrow. “Let’s give them something to really complain about…”

Then, without warning, his soaked fingers yank down the neckline of your vest, his warm lips suctioning onto your nipple, and you are calling out loudly once more. 

masterlist • wips • taglist (must follow this blog to be tagged)

Benedict taglist pt 1 : @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @ferns-fics @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @hanji-emo-blog @sya-skies @urfavnoirette

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Ooh! A wonderful interview with Rich Keeble who played Mr. Arnold (the one with the Doctor Who Annual :)) in S2! :)❤

Q: In Good Omens 2 you play Mr. Arnold, who runs the music shop on Whickber Street. Were you a fan of Good Omens before joining the cast, and is it challenging to take on such an iconic story which is already loved by a huge fanbase?

A: “There’s always pressure if you’re working on something with an existing fanbase and people might have an idea already as to how you should be approaching something. To be honest I was aware of the show but I hadn’t actually seen it before I was asked to get involved. I knew it was something special though! I remember talking to Tim Downie [Mr. Brown] about how when you tape for certain things you know if something’s a “good one”. Of course by the time I was on set I’d watched Season 1 and read the book. 

I had an interesting route into the show actually: I was asked at the last minute to read the stage directions at the tableread on Zoom, and Douglas [Mackinnon] the director called me up to discuss pronunciations of the character names etc. To prepare further I quickly watched the first episode on Prime Video, and I was very quickly drawn into it. A couple of hours later I was on a Zoom call with David [Tennant], Michael [Sheen] (with his bleached hair), Neil [Gaiman], Douglas and the whole team, including Suzanne [Smith] and Glenda [Mariani] in casting. After that readthrough I asked my agent to try and see if she could shoehorn me in and she came back with a tape for Mr. Arnold saying “you play the piano don’t you…?” They wanted me to demonstrate my musical playing ability, so I rented a rehearsal studio room in Brixton for an hour and filmed myself playing piano (and drums just in case), then I did my scenes a couple of different ways and I guess it wasn’t too terrible!”

Q: During episode five you mimed to music written by series composer David Arnold alongside a real string quartet – this must have been very immersive! How did it feel to work with David, and bring the ball to life?

A: “I actually didn’t meet David Arnold sadly, but I did work with Catherine Grimes, the music supervisor who is lovely. David was at the London screening but I missed an opportunity to go and say hello to him which I kicked myself about. 

I remember before I was in Scotland there was a bit of uncertainty as to whether I would need to play anything for real or not, so I practised every day playing loads of Bach and other music I thought was era-appropriate just in case they asked me to do anything on the fly. So yes, it was very immersive as you say! They sent me three pieces of music to learn which I practised in my Edinburgh apartment on a portable folding keyboard thing I bought. They introduced me to the string quartet (John, Sarah, Alison and Stephanie) and I tried to hang out with them when I could. On the day we all had earpieces to mime to. I had to mime while listening out for a cue from Nina [Sosanya] from across the room, then deliver my dialogue and carry on playing, which was tricky! The quartet and I helped each other out actually: Douglas would say something like “let’s go from a minute into the second piece of music”, I’d look at the sheet music and whisper “where the hell is that?” and one of the quartet would say “we think that’s bar 90” or something. Here’s a little bit of trivia: the shooting overran and the string quartet couldn’t make the last day, so they found some incredible lookalikes to replace them for the scene when we get lead out of the bookshop through all the demons, although I think they also kept them deliberately off camera.” 

Q: What did you think of your music shop when you first saw the set? Did you have a favourite poster or prop?

A: “I thought it was incredible! It could’ve been an actual music shop with all the instruments hanging up with the “Arnold’s” price tags on. The attention to detail was incredible, well IS incredible as I understand it’s all still there. It’s hard to pick a favourite to be honest. I did a little video walkaround on my phone at the time so maybe I’ll post that if I won’t get in trouble. Interestingly the shop interior itself was elsewhere on the set to the shop entrance you see from the street. You walk out of Aziraphale’s shop, over the road, through the door of the music shop and… there’s nothing.” 

Q: Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?

A: “I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.

Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”

Q: How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?

A: “Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!

Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”

Q: What are your plans for the future �� can we expect to see you in something else soon?

A: “This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”

[focusfixated]

so yes i did go see paul mccartney in paris two weeks ago with my sis because we couldn't get tickets to the london shows, but yesterday the clouds parted, the angels sang and we were blessed with a christmas miracle (last minute face-value resale tickets) and managed to go to the gig last night after all.

seeing beloved bands and artists in other countries or cities is all well and good when access is limited, but there is nothing like seeing someone in your home town. "how are you doing tonight, london?" and you can yell back, yes, i'm doing mighty fucking fine, thanks for asking.

the highlights of the night:

the girl next to me on her feet with us the whole show belting every single word out

the rendition of wonderful christmastime and my sis grabbing me by the shoulders and yelling DO YOU TAKE IT BACK. DO YOU TAKE IT BACK. (it: my aversion to christmas music and my claim in JEST that paul has only ever done two things wrong in his life* and one of them is WC)

paul forgetting to play my valentine at the piano and his drummer abe emphatically miming a heart to remind him and paul saying, "i thought he was saying that he loved me!"

paul's absolutely camp imitation of a muscular, flexing man during the "just the fellas" section of hey jude [ETA i have been reminded! @scurator : you forgot when he did a weird little camp wrist for "women" during hey jude and then panicked like "oh no wait that's Gays, not Women, they are not the same" and course-corrected with a little ~womanly shape]

paul standing quietly and staring out at the audience after some of the songs just to "take it in, for me"

paul, telling the story of writing blackbird : "when we played in jacksonville in the 60s they told us the audience would be segregated and we said if that was the case we wouldn't play" - audience: *clapping* - paul: "yay beatles!"

paul preemptively covering both his ears before the final explosion of live and let die, and then crossly miming "too loud" at everyone, and continuing to do so for the laughs as everyone in the audience hooted and hollered

paul talking about how they used to not be able to hear themselves play over the sounds of the audience, and requesting the crowd let out their own beatles scream to demonstrate (sister: "wow, felt good to let that out, actually")

a flag for ireland in the flag parade

a second opportunity to enjoy i got a feeling which simply is my favourite beatles song of all time

paul thanking his amazing band, and saying how talented they all are, "and not a sign of AI among them."

the final bow, the whole band holding hands and then simultaneously doing a sprightly jump up all together

anyway. just an incredible show by the best to ever do it, the one true king, my lesbian wife, my favourite old man. feeling blessed this christmas.

* the other one is the frog chorus song and apart from that paul has never done a single thing wrong in his life

[justagirlwholikesadam]

The American: Visiting the Dursley

Remus Lupin x American! Fem! Reader

Summary: Sirius slips out a name that Harry has never heard of before. He wants to get to the bottom of it and wants to know who is this so called, Yankee.

A/n: I had comments on people telling me to continue this story. Here's chapter 2. I want to start off saying, I haven't read the books. I have seen the movies and I'm doing a bit of searching here and there but I'm making stuff up as we go so my plot can work. With that being said, don't come for me. Not sure how many chapters I'll be doing, really depends on the feedback. please read the tags before reading. Enjoy -L

Warning: mention of rape, breaking and entering, ANGST, MAJOR ANGST, weapon, reader has it rough, threats being made, mention of killing bad people, drunk Sirius, sad childhood, mention of child abuse, reader has a temper and bad childhood, NSFW, smut is here duhh we are with Remus

WORD COUNT: 10.7k

Chapter 2: Visiting the Dursleys

Stepping out of the grimmauld place, you walked beside Harry, down the steps asking him what kind of food he likes. Harry felt dumb for getting excited over a simple question. When was the last time someone asked him a simple question, he can’t recall. A question that didn’t have to do anything with the war or with magic. He hears Remus and Sirius behind him, shutting the front door. He was excited, he was going to spend time with his aunt and uncles. He was going to spend time with his family. 

“I have a place in mind.” You told him with a smile as you stood by him waiting for Remus and Sirius. 

“It’s a bit far so I’ll do the apparition.” You told the three of them. Remus held your hand as you grabbed a hold of Harry’s hand. Sirius held Remus and Harry’s hand, forming a circle. Harry watched as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Your magic was something he could feel, it vibrated off of you. 

In a flash, Harry dropped your hand and turned to see you had apparated them in the middle of an alley. 

“Come on, Harry.” You said signaling him to follow you. 

Sirius smiled to himself as he saw Harry’s eyes grow wide when they walked out of the alley to the busy street. Harry took in the crowds of people and the different colored signs around the streets. He had never seen this street before, the air was different as well. It looked too busy to be the streets of London. He passed by a hot dog stand and noticed people using  flip phones while waiting to cross the street. Harry looked ahead to see Remus and you holding hands walking, Harry grinned when he saw you speaking with Remus who looked over at you with a smile. He hasn’t seen his ex professor smile so much before. Remus' eyes were lit up and a wide toothy smile was on his face.

Crossing the streets, Harry feels Sirius nudge his shoulder and points at a mime standing by the corner doing tricks. Harry hears you call for him and he quickly walks up to you. Remus walks ahead of you and opens the door of a restaurant. Harry looks up the red neon sign on top of the glass door, Lucky’s Joint. The atmosphere was cool and reserved. There were a few people drinking while watching a game on the TV above the bar. Others were smoking in the corner while others were enjoying their drinks and food.

Harry looked ahead when someone called out your name. He saw you smile as you opened your arms for an elderly man who welcomed you. You hugged the old man, patting his back. 

“Oh my! Remus!” The older man walked towards Remus giving him a hug. Remus patted him on the back as well. 

“It’s nice to see you, Mr. Lincoln.” Remus said as he pulled away. 

“It’s been far too long.” Lincoln told Remus and you, grabbing Remus’ hand and yours. Harry can see both of you meant something to Lincoln. The older man had white short hair and was shorter than Harry. He had a plump frame and wore dark dress pants with a blue button down shirt. 

“I want you to meet my brother, Sirius.” You said looking over at Sirius who was curious about this old man. Sirius shook hands with Lincoln, who raised his white bushy eyebrows in surprise. 

“And this is, my nephew, Harry.” You look over at him. Harry tried his best to blink the tears away. You called him, your nephew.

“Brother? Nephew?” Lincoln asked in a shock tone. 

“Yes. They live out of the country. They came to visit.” Remus said, looking over at Sirius and Harry, giving them a wink to play along. 

“Just here for a bit. Vacationing with my son.” Sirius told Lincoln, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. 

“That’s fantastic. Enjoy your vacation. Now come. I’ll show you to your usual booth.” The booth was all the way in the back, giving them some privacy. 

“He has no idea?” Sirius asked and Remus shook his head while a waitress came and dropped some menus  on the table before walking away. 

“He’s a kind hearted muggle. Yank and I have been coming here for years.” Remus said while removing his coat before sitting by the wall. 

Harry sat down across from you next to Sirius. Harry froze when he saw you taking your coat off and saw a hostler attached to your hip. Sitting down, Remus passed a menu to you. Looking up to see Harry, he quickly glanced away from you. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked and Harry shyly looked at you. 

“You have a gun.” Harry whispered and you just smiled at his reaction. “I do. Every auror who does special missions in the states carries one.” You answered him. 

“You shoot Death Eaters with it?” You nodded. Harry looked a bit nervous so you took your gun out and took the magazine of the gun out. Pulling a bullet out you showed it to Harry. 

“This gun is just like any other gun. The difference is the bullets. The bullets contain a spell.” Harry's eyes widen as you hold it out in front of him. 

“This gun contains immobulus in each bullet. We use the gun when we don’t have our wand. The gun is our last resort and yes, to answer your question. I have used it. It saved my life many times before.” 

Harry grabs the bullet from your hand and looks at it. He stared at the bullet, the silver bullet shines and he sees the word of the spell engraved on the bullet. He holds it to Sirius who was equally curious about it as well. 

“What if it kills them?” Harry asked. “If you shoot them in the head or the heart then yes. It will kill them. We were taught to shoot them in the non-vital parts of their body until the authorities come and get them.” 

“But sometimes you have to shoot them down.” Your voice gets low and Harry notices the look on Remus' face. 

“Why am I not surprised that our Yankee has a gun.” Sirius said, making you chuckle as he passed the bullet to Harry. 

“I was just as surprised as you when they introduced me to it but it’s America, what do you expect? They love their guns.” You said as Harry gave you the bullet back. 

“You knew about this?” Remus nods at Sirius as you put the gun away. 

“Well, of course. I’m her husband. She taught me how to shoot the damn thing.” Sirius’ mouth dropped, not believing that shy and quiet Remus knows how to shoot a gun. 

“Nearly fell back when I shot it but I got the hang of it.” Remus said, looking over at you. 

“We have lots of catching up to do.” Sirius said, making you nod. 

“That we do. Harry, let me just say you look like James but your eyes are your mothers.” Harry smiled at you. 

“You really do.” Remus said as he grabbed your hand under the table while Sirius told Harry about James going on and on about Lily’s eyes when they were in school. 

Ordering the food and the drinks, Harry’s face hurt from all the smiling and laughter he was doing. You were a breath of fresh air to him. He thinks it’s because you treated him like an adult. You didn’t sugar coat things when Harry asked about Voldemort and stories about his parents. Harry listened attentively to every word you said during dinner. He can see the admiration in Remus’ eyes when you spoke about your job in the states. 

“You said only aurors who do special missions have a gun?” You nod at Harry’s question. 

“What kind?” You wiped your fingers with a napkin before answering. 

“Many missions that required protecting items or people. Sometimes very rich muggles, sometimes wizards or sometimes creatures. Others and I sometimes go out to look out for Death Eaters who have escaped the first war. That’s how we found out that he had been planning on using mind control on the muggles.” 

“He’s been planning other things, Harry.” You said softly.  “He thinks he will win this time around. He has already started making plans once he defeats us, not to take over London but to rule over everything.” 

“He won’t win.” Remus’ voice was firm and strong. 

“He won’t.” You agreed with your husband. 

“That’s right.” Sirius commented before looking over at his godson. “We are here with you, Harry. You are not alone anymore. We are going to stop him once and for all.” 

Harry bites the inside of his cheek to not cry. Harry had Ron and Hermione with him, but it wasn’t the same thing being with Remus, Sirius and you. Ron and Hermione were teens just like him. The three of them had no experience with dealing with war. You reach out your hand across the table to touch Harry’s hand when he doesn't respond right away to Sirius. Harry’s hand is so soft compared to yours and you hope he didn’t reject you. You were relieved when Harry grabbed a hold of it. His eyes looked down at your hand, to him your hands were like Sirius and Moody. You had light scars over your knuckles and he rubbed his thumb over the golden wedding band on your ring finger. You frown when Harry’s eyes begin to fill up with tears when you feel him rub a scar on your knuckles. Harry lets out a whimper when he remembers Cedric’ having a familiar scar like yours on his hand. He remembers because he was holding on to Cedric’s hand for dear life when bringing his dead body back home. 

“I just don’t want any of you to end up like Cedric because of me.” Harry whispered and Sirius was quick to pull him next to him. Sirius wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. 

“No need to cry, my dear boy.” Sirius told him softly as Remus grabbed a few napkins from the table sliding them over to Sirius. Harry still held your hand as you moved his plate away giving you space. 

“Harry.” Remus calls for him over the table. Remus’ heart breaks when Harry looks over at him with teary eyes. He swore that he saw Lily for a second but shook his head to continue. 

“You do know, Cedric’s death was not on you.” Harry was quick to shake his head. 

“Listen to me.” Remus said. “It was not your fault. No one knew he was going to be there. No one knew that he was coming back at that moment. Cedric knew the risk when entering the tournament as well. Peter was the one that killed him. Not you. Peter.” 

“He’s right, my sweet boy.” You said to Harry. You gave him a gentle squeeze on his hand. 

“What happened to Cedric was horrible. You shouldn’t have to experience that but Remus is right. This was not on you. I don’t want to lie to you, Harry. Yes, we may die, we may die tomorrow, in two days, in a year or we may die during the war but I can say this about the three of us.” You looked at Sirius and Remus then back at Harry. 

“Risking our lives for the greater good and to protect you is worth losing our life. We will help you defeat him.” Harry sniffed as Sirius kissed the top of his head. 

“You are not alone. We are here now.” Sirius whispered to Harry as you grabbed Remus with your other hand, the table stood quiet for a few moments. 

“Do you remember when James and you showed me how to ride a broomstick?” You asked Sirius trying to lighten up the mood, Harry seemed to calm down when he heard your question. Sirius lets out a chuckle before Remus does the same. 

“Oh Merlin! We tried to convince your aunt to join the quidditch team.” Sirius said, looking at Harry before grinning at you. 

“What was the first thing you said?” Sirius asked, making you roll your eyes when you realize what you had just done. 

“Do we have to wear those witches hats to start the broom?!” Remus answered in a high pitched voice making you gasp as Sirius and he started to laugh. 

“I didn’t know, okay! I thought it activated the broom. Back home all the witches had those hats on when riding the broom.” You tried to speak over Remus and Sirius’ laughter. You shook your head and looked over at Harry who was smiling again. 

“Your mother yelled at your father for laughing at her and made him wear a witches hat for the entire lesson.” Remus told Harry before looking at Sirius. 

“Let’s just say I did not play Quidditch after that.” You said releasing your hand from Harry. 

“You didn’t like it?” Harry asked as you pushed his plate in front of him. 

“To be honest, flying around and throwing balls was not my cup of tea but watching Sirius and James fly was something out of this world. I’ll never forget the time I saw it, I kept thinking to myself that this was just a dream.” 

Sirius continues to lighten up the mood by telling Harry about a quidditch story from the old days. Remus and you just watched happily as Sirius talked with Harry. Harry needed this, needed time together with his godfather. Time with his family, Remus and you both knew Sirius needed this time with Harry as well. Both of you can see how Sirius looks at Harry, it was the same way he looked at James all those years. James was there at a time when Sirius had nobody, no money and no home. James and Lily’s death had broken Sirius into pieces. 

Remus squeezed your hand under the table before bringing it over his lap. 

You look over at Harry who was finishing with his burger and fries as Sirius spoke. You stared at the scar peeking behind the strands of his dark hair. You felt an overwhelming sensation as you stared at the kid across from you. You can see glimpses of James trying his first greasy burger. You bit the inside of your cheek when Harry laughed at a joke Sirius had just made. 

You saw flashes of Lily, laughing. Harry’s eyes sparkle the same way Lily's did. You look away when you feel Remus gives your hand another gentle squeeze. Looking at your husband, he gives you a look. No words had to be said, you knew what Remus was asking. He was asking if you were OK, you just nod. 

Remus started to rub your arm under the table, it made you feel at ease. You missed Remus so much. You only got to see him after weeks of doing missions. You missed his warmth, his presence and his touch. It was hard at first when you left after being together for so long. You felt like you didn’t know how to live the first few weeks away from him. Remus and you were like a team from the very beginning, you met him. You had brought him up from the lowest point in his life and he did the same with you. 

“Dream team.” He would say to you. He said those very words to you when you left. You left because you needed the money. After everything, Remus and you were all alone. Barely making it by. No one wanted to hire a werewolf and he had refused to let you work because he knew deep down that Fenrir Greyback was still alive. Remus was in tears when he begged you not to work in London.

 “I can feel him for some reason when I’m a werewolf. I know he’s alive. Sometimes during a full moon, I hear his howl and if he is still alive that means you know who can still be alive. They can still be looking for you.” 

“Okay. I won’t work here.” You told him before hugging him. Trying to console him because he was in tears. As much as Remus tried to forget about Greyback, there was no point because they were connected to each other. Grayback was the one who bit Remus making him into a werewolf. They will always be connected.

Dumbledore was kind enough to contact the Ministry of Magic in the states. They knew about you and oh how excited they were to have someone like you over there because who shall not be named had died causing a few Death Eaters escaping from their homes to reside in the states and of course they were causing havoc. 

The money was fine and it helped with restoring the cottage, Remus and you lived there. It helped Remus get by, not as much but bearable. He always felt bad taking money from you, his hard-working wife, who was risking her life every day. He has done a few muggle jobs here and there but he will always get fired at the end for missing work too much after the full moon. Most of the money went towards his Wolfbane potion, such an expensive thing it is. It was something that you told him at first when giving him money. Remus didn’t want to take it, saying it wasn’t right and fair but you simply shook your head at him before telling him. 

“The thought of you being alone, not in your right mind while I am across the world hurts me. I won’t always be there during a full moon to hold you and take care of you but knowing that you have taken your potion. I know you will be alright and it makes me happy.” 

The days when you came back to the cottage was everything to both you. Coming home to Remus after a long mission was what you needed to come back. Meaning, missions were always physically and mentally utterly exhausting. You have seen death and destruction during your missions and sometimes you were the one to cause it. You have lost coworkers and friends throughout the years. Remus would hold you until the next day, allowing you to cry and scream. He would wake you up from your nightmares. This went both ways, you were so happy when you came back home when a full moon was going to happen. You enjoyed taking care of him, healing him and providing for him. It reminded you of  the old days when both of you were at Hogwarts. 

You would wipe the blood from his cuts on his body when the boys would bring him back from a full moon. You would ease his pain and anger when a full moon would be near. Remus would cast a spell for you to stop your bleeding nose or hold you after you were bullied. He’s been with you after everything you had endured in Hogwarts and your home. 

You looked over at Harry again, you saw he was done with his food and was speaking with Remus and Sirius. Looking out the window you saw the sun was setting, taking a peek of your watch, you let out a tsk. “I should take Harry back. It’s almost curfew over there.” 

Harry looked sad at this and you were quick to grab his hand that was laid on the table. 

“This isn’t our last dinner, you know. We are finally together again, all of us. Not trying to be the overbearing aunt but you can send me letters. Use the floo to come over. Maybe spend the weekend at our place, perhaps invite your friends over as well. Remus has told me good things about them.” Harry nods at you with a bright smile. 

All his life, his real family didn’t want anything to do with him. Petunia had never once made him feel this wanted and loved. He felt like this was a dream and he was scared that he would wake up soon and all of this would be gone. 

“I’ll take him back, you boys stay here.” You said standing up grabbing your jacket from the hook outside of the booth. Remus stands up to kiss your cheek, telling you to be careful as Harry said his goodbye to Sirius. 

Waving bye at Remus and Sirius, you walked out of the restaurant. “Wait, I have-.” You stuff Harry’s money back into his pocket. 

“No need, my dear.” You said as you signal Harry to follow you.  “Thank you for dinner.” Harry said. 

“Let’s walk for a bit.” You told him as you walked down the block. 

“I didn’t mention anything about my time in Hogwarts in the restaurant but if you like, I can tell you a little bit as we walk. Maybe one day, I'll tell you all about it.”  Harry nods at you and he notices how tense you became while stuffing your hands in the pockets of your coat. 

“I really didn’t have a good time at first in Hogwarts. I came in pretty late. In the fifth year, I didn’t know much. To be honest, I didn’t know anything about magic. I was an outcast and I was bullied because I was a muggle-born. It did not help that I was in Slytherin, how they hated me at first until they saw the potential in my magic. Some students were kind to me while others were just plain cruel.” 

“Did your parents know about the bullying?” Harry asked you as both of you crossed the street to a small park. 

Harry saw your eyes closed for a minute before stopping at the corner. “Not really, home was even worse for me.” 

Harry frowns as he looks up at you. “My mom died when I was young and my father was an alcoholic who liked to hit.” 

“You said he was, does that mean he stopped drinking?” Harry asked and you shook your head. 

“He died a few years ago. My father would’ve never stopped. I’m sure if he could, he would be drinking in hell.” You noticed the look in Harry’s eyes. 

“No need to look sad.” Harry lets out a deep breath. 

“When Remus said you had a rough life, I didn’t think it would be that. I thought it was only my family but not yours.” Harry flinched when you got close to him. You stared at his eyes and he saw your nostrils flare. 

“The Dursleys?” You said. “What have they done to you?” Your eyes grew hard when he didn’t say anything.  

“Harry! Tell me?” You asked him. Harry shook his head at you but the look in his eyes told you something else. 

“It’s over now. They don’t do anything anymore.” He lied. You pulled Harry into a hug and kissed the top of his head. 

“I’m sorry, Harry.” He heard you whisper as he hugs you back. He shut his eyes tight as you held him, not caring that his glasses were pressed tight against you.  Harry looks up at you as you push his hair away from his face. You cup his face with your hands. 

“They will never touch you again. I swear it.” Harry just stares at you. You said it so nonchalantly that he almost believes you.

“People like us, we survive. We survive because we have endured it. We lived through that pain inflicted by others. Use that to your advantage, my dear.” 

“Don’t tell Sirius about it. I haven’t told anyone about it. I get enough pity and looks from people because I’m Harry Potter.” 

 “I know what you mean. Wanting to be normal, wanting to be like everyone else. The stares and the whispers.” Harry agrees with you with a nod. 

“They do it right in front of you so you can hear it.” Harry comments and it pained you that he had to deal with that.

Harry and you walked for a few blocks as you told him more about your time in Hogwarts. You told him how it was Dumbledore, who found you. Dumbledore was the one to take you away from your home and take you to Hogwarts. You told Harry that the whole experience felt out of this world. You were in your bedroom when you heard someone walk inside the apartment. Harry tried to cover his laughter when you told him you thought Dumbledore was a crackhead that let himself in and you had called the most powerful wizard an old man to his face. 

Checking your watch one more time, you told Harry it was really time to go back. Grabbing his hand, you apparated in front of Hogwarts by the gates. You walk up the hill with him, telling him about the first time you went to Diagon Alley. He smiled and he told you about his experience with Hagrid. Hagrid took him away from his family on his birthday. Standing in front of the castle, you hugged Harry one last time. You kissed his forehead as you said your goodbye. 

“You know I wasn’t lying about sending me letters and coming over. You can always spend the summer with me and Remus. I know for a fact Sirius wouldn’t mind if you stay with him. He said he was fixing the house for you to live with him.” Harry smiles. 

“Can I call you aunt or Yankee? Maybe aunt Yankee?” Harry asked and you answered with a yes. 

“Whatever you wish, my dear boy. I know Remus would love it if you called him uncle Remus or uncle Moony.” 

“Really?” Harry asked. “Yes, we may not be your blood family, Harry but Remus and I think of you as our own.” Harry remembers what Remus had told him about you fighting for him when he was a baby. 

“But, I must confess something to you, Harry. I need to say this because I don’t want to keep secrets from you.” You told him. 

“You can choose whether or not you still want to talk to me but I need to tell you that I have done things in my life that I am not proud of. I have killed and hurt people, bad people. The most despicable people that you can think of.” 

Harry watched as you looked over at Hogwarts with a sad look on your face. It was the same look Sirius had when he first saw Hogwarts again after 12 years. He saw tears rolling down your eyes as you looked at the castle. 

“I need you to understand I would never hurt you. I will kill myself before I ever hurt you. I needed you to know because there is a war coming and I will be something else when it comes. I have fought in battles over in the states, I have done things to survive, to ensure my safety and others. I don’t want you to think of me as different because of it.” 

Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest while you spoke. By the look on your face, he knew you were telling the truth. 

“I believe you. I believe you won’t hurt me, Yankee.” You smiled at him as you quickly wiped your tears away. 

“Go before you get into trouble.” You said waving goodbye at him. You were about to turn around when you heard him yell aunt. He gave you a last goodbye before walking inside. 

--

Remus and Sirius were still in the restaurant, they had ordered another round of beer when you walked back inside. 

“How did it go?” Remus asked you as the waiter came back with 3 pints of beer. 

“Good.” You answered them and thanked the waitress. 

There was a silence between the three of you and Sirius quickly rose up from his seat when he saw you started to cry. Remus made room for Sirius to sit down and tugged you close to him. Remus wrapped his arm around your torso, while you covered your face with your hands. Your shoulders shook while you sobbed. Sirius leaned his head against your shoulder. Dropping your hands from your face, you let out a deep breath. 

“I told him what I have done. Told him about the killing. He still called me his aunt afterwards. I thought I was going to lose him. I thought he was going to call me a murderer.” 

“You are NOT a murderer. You have done things to survive. For your team to survive. You have stopped people who have done terrible things. People who kill. People who raped the innocent. Harry is smart. He knows the difference.” Remus told you. 

“He’s right, Yankee. Harry knows. He has a good heart. He did a noble thing for Peter. Told me he didn’t think his father would have wanted his two best friends to be killers.” Sirius said softly and you felt Remus tense up. 

You look ahead and drag Sirius’ pint of beer in front of him. You gave thought to what Sirius told you. You shut your eyes when you remember James telling you something after your wedding. 

James had caught you watching Remus and Sirius dancing in the middle of the dance floor. You were leaning against the railing of his backyard porch. 

“How long have they been going at it?” You look over at James who was smiling at them. 

“For a while now, they are doing every song on the record of Queens.” You answered, making James laugh. He looks over at you. 

You raised an eyebrow at him when James kept looking at you. “You alright?” James nods and shoots a quick glance at Remus before looking back at you. 

“I’m just happy you guys are together.” You nudge your shoulders at James. “James, you are such a sap.” 

“I’m serious. I just know you’ll take care of him.” 

Looking over at James. His blue eyes shine with unshed tears. “You are the strongest person I know. I’m happy he has you. I was worried that after school is done he will be alone and have no one.” 

“I know he’s good to you. After everything I’m glad you are with Remus. He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars. I was just so worried, especially with everything that happened. I love him, he’s my brother. Just as I love you, Yankee. You’re the sister I always wish I had.” You glance over at Remus who was bending down, holding his stomach in laughter as Sirius tried to do the worm.  

“I’ll take care of Remus if you take care of Sirius.” James gives you a smile. 

“Lily and I are going to ask him to move in with us.” You grew happy at that idea, you had no doubt in your mind that Sirius would refuse. 

Remus' touch made you open your eyes and you were back at the diner. You looked down at your own cup taking another deep breath, watching the foam on the beer before looking ahead.  

‘Don't worry, brother. I’ll take care of them and Harry.’ You said to yourself as you grabbed the handle of the cup. 

“I’m gonna kill that fucking rat.” You told Sirius and Remus then brought the cup to your lips. Sirius and Remus shared a look behind you, they knew you meant Peter. 

“We know.”  Remus and Sirius said simultaneously. They took a sip from their drinks as well. The three of you could have sworn the ghost of Lily and James sat across from the booth. James had his arm around Lily’ shoulder as they laughed. Drowning the pint, Sirius ordered another round. The three of you kept talking and drinking until late. Sirius, Remus and you were reminiscing about the past. Talking about everyone, talking about the pranks Sirius and James used to pull. Before you knew it, you were helping Remus carry Sirius back home. 

“He hasn’t had a drink in 12 years and now he’s a lightweight.” You said as Remus opened the door of the house. 

“He’s always been a lightweight, love.” Sirius gasps loudly before laughing out loud making you snort as you and Remus help him up the stairs. 

“You’re gonna have one hell of a headache, Pads.” You said as Remus opened the door of his room. Sirius let out a giggle when saw his bed and threw himself on top of the covers ignoring Remus calling out for him. 

“You need to change.” Remus told him as you started to remove Sirius’ shoes while Remus walked to the dresser across the room. 

“Just like old times.” You told Remus who walked back to you and laid a pair of pajamas on the edge of the bed. You dropped one of Sirius’ shoes on the ground before working on the other.

“Thank god, he doesn’t throw up like James.” You commented, making Remus groan as he remembers cleaning James' throw up. You had taken them to a bar in New York and it was the first time James and Sirius had tequila. 

“Let me get him a glass of water and a bucket just in case.” Remus said leaving the room as you grab a blanket from the closet. You walked towards him and laid the blanket over him. Sirius calls your name softly as you tuck him in. He grabs your hand. 

“I’m glad you're here.” You smile at your drunk friend. 

“I’m glad to be here too.” You said while unbuttoning  the first top buttons of his dress shirt so he would be comfortable. 

“We should change your shirt at least. Can you move?” You asked him softly before adding that he would feel much better with a sleeping shirt on.  You smiled to yourself when Sirius agreed with you. 

You grabbed the shirt, Remus laid out as he started to remove his jacket and button down shirt. You froze at the amount of tattoos on his body. He looked fragile and you can see his rib cage. You bite down on your tongue to not cry. Sirius used to be buff back in the day, he was more fuller since he played quidditch. You helped him put  the shirt on and he dropped back down with a sigh. You folded his dress shirt and jacket, you looked over at him to see him staring at the ceiling. 

“Promise me you’ll take care of Harry if the ministry finds me to take me back to Azkaban.” 

“Sirius.” You gently said bringing the blanket up to his chest. He looks away from the ceiling at you. 

“If they try to take you away again. I’ll protect you. I’ll fight them.” Sirius takes your hand with his, bringing it up to his chest. You can feel his heartbeat. 

“I missed you guys so much. Remus has told me so much and - and I  don’t want us to break apart. Stay with me here, the both of you. Don’t- please don’t go back to the cottage. Remus can use the basement when there is a full moon.” Sirius rambles and his words become twisted with tears that were running down his face. 

“I’ll speak with Remus about it, okay? You need to sleep now, Si.” Sirius nods at you as you wipe the tears from his face with your fingers. 

You hear Remus behind you and he placed the glass of water on the nightstand, he puts the bucket by Sirius’ side. You give a look at Remus when he notices Sirius was crying. 

“I’m going to get changed. Goodnight, Si.” You said patting Sirius on the leg and walking out of the room to Remus’ room. You shut the door when you heard Sirius talking with Remus. 

You hear Sirius begin to cry. “Don’t leave me alone. Please Moony. I want both of you to stay here.” You slowly walk away from the door. 

After calming Sirius down and waiting for him to fall asleep Remus quietly shuts the door behind him and walks towards the guest bedroom. Remus starts to unbutton his cardigan as he walks inside, shutting the door. He hears the shower is on, looking over at the bathroom door. He smiles to himself, he’s smiling because you’re here. 

He was happy when he received your letter, telling him you will be returning home. Dumbledore contacted the Ministry of Magic in the states, requesting your help permanently. Remus was surprised when you sent another letter saying you will be arriving a week late due to work. Nevertheless, you were coming back. Remus lets out a sigh as he sits on the edge of the bed, removing his watch and shoes. He hears the shower turn off. A few minutes later, you walk out of the bathroom with a white towel around your body. 

“How is he?” You asked, walking towards him, Remus grabs your hand pulling you closer to him. You stood between his long legs. 

“Sleeping.” Remus answers as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He can smell the body wash on your skin, your hair is damp and he watches the water droplets dribble down your arms. 

“I think we should stay for a while, love.” You nod at him, agreeing with him. 

“Yeah. We should. Seeing him crying like that hurts me.” Remus looks up at you. 

“It hurts me too. I feel stupid for not believing he was innocent. You were right all along.” Remus said, wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him, pressing his face against your body. You ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Do not feel stupid, Remus. At one point I thought he did it but it’s in the past now. Sirius is here with us now. Sirius is alive and we know who betrayed our friends. We know who the real culprit is.” You look down and held Remus’ face in your hands making him look up at you. Your chest tightens at the sight of his red eyes. He let out a soft sob as he shook his head. 

“He was all alone there. He looks so different now. So pale and skinny.” Remus’ voice cracks. 

“I know. I know but we will help him now. He won’t be alone anymore. We are here and Harry is with us. No more being alone.  No more. We are finally together, a family. “ Remus nods. 

“Together.” Remus said, you lean down to kiss him. You pull away to kiss his forehead then hug him again. 

“I missed you so much.” He tells you. “Me too, baby.” 

You feel Remus’ hand touch your bare legs. You truly missed him, it wasn’t the same. Your fingers, the toy you had wasn’t the same as him. He gently squeezed the back of your legs before making their way up to your hips under the towel. 

You wanted to tell him about Harry and what he told you about the Dursley. You wanted to do something about it. Remus kissed your arms that were over his shoulders. 

“What’s wrong?” Remus asks you in a worried tone. You weren’t surprised. Remus knew your body better than you. Plus it helped that both of you were bonded together. Remus kept looking at you and you grew anxious at your idea that you had. You just hope that he won't get mad at it. 

“Baby.” You smiled when he said that. You remember like it was yesterday when you first called him that when you started dating him. He had blushed at the word and asked you if that’s what girlfriends and boyfriends called each other in the states. 

“I have to tell you something.” You said in a shaky voice. 

--

The night was cold as you stood in front of Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging. You drew your wand out as you stared at the white front door. The locks undid itself from the inside out and the door opens. 

Walking inside you looked around, you heard snoring coming from upstairs. Shutting the door behind you, you walked further inside. You were about to make your way into the kitchen when you came to a halt when you stood in front of the door of the cupboard under the stairs. Staring at the door, you felt something heavy on your chest. That feeling was there, the same feeling that has helped you throughout your missions. Facing the door, you looked at the small lock on it. Pointing the lock with your wand, it unlatches itself and the lock drops down onto the carpeted ground. Pulling the door open, the end of your wand lit up. Your eyes grew wide when you saw a pillow and a blanket on a thin and raggedy mattress. Looking around you saw drawings taped on the wall with Harry’s name written on the bottom corner of the papers, you took a deep breath as you continued to look around and stopped when you saw three little toys, soldiers to be exact. Dust has collected over them and you took a step away from the cupboard. The door shuts itself. 

You hoped it wasn’t true. Your hands shook and you let out a sigh before slamming your fist on the door hard. You pushed yourself away from the door and walked into the kitchen/living room. You walked in front of the fireplace in the living room. Your eyes loomed over the picture frames above the fireplace. You growled at the sight of Petunia with her husband and her kid. All the pictures were of three of them. There were no pictures of Harry. 

You let out a shout as you waved your wand at the massive amount of picture frames above the fireplace. The frames came crashing down making noise, you look over at the frames hanging on the wall. There was no Harry and another crash came down. 

Vernon woke up from the sound of it. Petunia quickly woke up as well and told him to go down. Vernon got up and began to walk down the steps to the living room with Petunia behind him. There was another crash and Vernon decided to shout for the intruder to stop. Vernon froze when he walked into the kitchen/living room. It was a complete mess, glass from the picture frames were everywhere. The dining table was flipped over and the couch was ripped open, the white stuffing was pulled out. 

“What is going on here!?” Vernon shouted as Petunia walked beside him. She let out a gasp not because of the state of the room but because of you. You were sitting in front of the fireplace, facing them while you sat on a dining chair. You had a leg over the other as you leaned back. Vernon's eyes grew wide when he saw you had a cigarette hanging from your lips. 

“Petunia. You haven’t changed a bit. You still look like shit.” You said looking at Lily’s older sister. She wore a nightgown and hair rollers on top of her head. Vernon had a gray shirt and plaid pants along with a dark blue robe. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Vernon shouted making his way to you but you pulled out your wand and pointed it at him making him freeze. 

“You are one of those freaks.” He shouts at you as you blow smoke out from your mouth. He gets more mad when the ashes fall on the ground. 

“What do you want?” Petunia asked harshly, eyeing you up and down.  

“I know something.” Lily’s sister frowns at you as you stare back at her. 

“It has come to my attention on how you have been treating Harry all these years.” The married couple looked at each then down to the ground. 

“Not even trying to deny it?” You asked. 

“You listen here, you bitch. Get out of my house.” Vernon snapped at you and you laughed while throwing the cigarette in the fireplace. 

“I’ll leave after I’m done with you.” They jumped when they saw you disappear in mid air. Vernon shouted when he felt you behind him, your wand pointing at his fat neck. He raised his hands up, in surrender. 

Petunia was going to jump at you when you pulled your gun out with your other hand and pointed it at her head. She lets out a gasp at the sight of the barrel aiming at her.  

“Don’t you fucking dare. Stand by the wall.” You hissed at her without removing your eyes at Vernon. She obey and leaned against the wall behind you. 

“I want to know everything.” You said tilting your head at Vernon. He winced when he felt a horrible sensation in his head. You stared at him as you read his mind. Your teeth grinded together as you watched how they treated Harry. Locking him up under the stairs for days ends, sometimes without water and food. You gave him a frown when you saw how poorly they treated Harry.

Petunia saw your body shake as Vernon shouted in pain. “Stop it! Stop it!” She shouted and Vernon fell down to the ground. Your hand holding the wand dropped down to your side. The grasp on your gun tightened as you turned around to look at her.  

“Your own nephew, your flesh and blood.” Petunia flinched under your gaze. She started to cry when you cocked the gun and walked closer to her. You were standing right in front of her. 

“You really are a heartless bitch. You are filled with hate because you were jealous of Lily. Do you know how many times I comforted her because of you? She just wanted her sister to love her.” Petunia sobbed when she felt the barrel of your gun under her chin. You let out a scoff at the sight of her and for a second her eyes looked over your shoulders.  

“Run!” Petunia shouted and you looked over to see Vernon had gotten up and was now running to the front door. Vernon managed to open it and froze when he saw a tall man with scars on his face standing by the entrance. 

“Mr. Dudley.” Vernon’ eyes were wide when he felt something touch his stomach. The man was holding a wand. 

“Get back inside. Right fucking now.” You gave Petunia a smile when you heard Remus. 

Remus slammed the door behind him as Vernon walked inside backwards into the living room.  Remus looks at you and you allow him to look inside your mind. Petunia shouted when Remus let out a growl and grabbed Vernon from the scruff of his neck and slammed him against the wall. His hand wrapped around Vernon’s neck as the images of Harry being abused ran through his mind. 

Vernon flinched at Remus’ low growl. 

“I’m not the only one that is angry. Petunia, I can feel and hear his thoughts. He wants to kill your husband.” You whispered to her. 

“What do you want?” Petunia cried as she looked over your shoulder at Vernon. 

“Are you going to do what I say?” She nodded frantically as tears ran down her face. 

“You swear?” You asked as you moved the gun to the crown of her forehead. 

“I swear!” She shouted with all her might. 

“Next time Harry comes here. You will treat him like a son. Do you understand me if he comes to this place for any fucking reason you better treat him right? You will not lock him up in his bedroom upstairs anymore. You’re so fucking lucky you switch rooms because if he was still sleeping under the fucking stairs I would have blow your husband brains out.” Petunia sobbed at you but nodded. 

“I promise. I promise.” 

“Petunia if you lie to me and keep treating Harry like that.” You grab her chin, making her look down at you. 

“I’m going to take your precious son away from you.” You pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her. Petunia trembles against you as she sobbed. 

“You have no idea the extent I will go through to protect my loved ones.” You whispered in her ear. 

“Now, since we have that settled. I will know if you tell anyone about this and if you do tell anyone, even Harry. Your husband dies and your son gets taken away.” 

Remus looks over his shoulder as Petunia promises you. She’s sobbing and her cries started to get to him. His grip on Vernon tightened as Petunia cried out once more that she would keep promise. Remus glanced back at Vernon, his eyes hard and jaw clenched. 

“Let’s see how much you like it.” Vernon frowns at Remus’ words. You were about to leave the room when Remus forcibly pushed Vernon towards the stairs. The door of the cupboard opens by itself and Vernon is shouting as Remus pushes him inside. 

“I saw it was three days that you left Harry inside of here. Without food or water.” Remus said, placing his hands on the door after he shuts it close. Vernon’s shouting is muffled. 

Petunia cried as you walked away from her towards Remus. You saw him shut his eyes as the door locked itself, a golden line appeared around it surrounding the door. The line dissolved and he tried to open it. It was locked. 

Remus had always been good with charms. 

Remus felt your hand on his back and turned to you. Petunia is standing in horror as she watches the whole thing. She knew about Remus just as she did with you. Tall and lanky Remus was her sister’s best friend in Hogwarts. She remembers being so annoyed that she had to open the door of her home for him. Remus would visit Lily during breaks. She has never seen him look so angry, his eyes were filled with hate. The eyes of Remus Lupin practically glowed as he caught her staring at him. 

“After three days it will open.” Remus said before taking to your hand. 

“Say hello to Dudley for me.” You told her before walking out of the house with Remus. The front door shuts close by itself when both of you step out. Last thing you heard before leaving was Petunia banging on the door of the cupboard. 

Remus and you appear back at grimmauld, he opens the door for you and sees Kreacher standing on top of the stairs. He gives Remus and you a look of disgust before disappearing in mid air. 

“What an angel.” You said sarcastically while removing your coat, Remus doesn't say a word, he takes your coat and hangs it up along with his on the coat rack. 

You look over your shoulder to see Remus staring at the coat rack. His shoulders are tense and you hug him from behind, wrapping your arms around his torso as you lay your head against his back. You inhaled the scent of cigarette and laundry detergent on him. He was waiting outside the house in case someone had escaped. Remus was smoking as he watched you enter the home of the Dursley.  

“Thank you for coming with me.” You said as you felt him grab a hold of your hands. You were nervous he wouldn't come with you to deal with them. 

“I didn't want to believe it at first.” Remus’ voice crack. “When I saw his memories, I wanted to kill him. Kill him for treating Harry so badly.” 

“We could have raised him better.” You shut your eyes tightly letting him talk. Not being able to be Harry’s parent was heartbreaking for you but it broke Remus. The last connection he had of Lily and James was gone.

“We didn't have much but we would have done a better job than them.” Remus' body shook and you held him tighter. 

“We have him now. We have protected him from them. He has two years left until he can decide where to live. I think we scared the Dursley enough for two years.” Remus turns to face you. 

“Did you mean when you said that you would have killed him, you would kill the husband?” Remus asked and you looked up at him. You nodded at him. 

“I would have.” You said. “Seeing young Harry crying under the stairs-.” You shook your head trying to get rid of the thought. You were getting angry. 

“Watching him go hungry and that piece of shit taunting him.” Remus is silent and you can see he was thinking. 

“Are you afraid of me?” You asked him softly looking into his eyes, hoping not to see fear. You don’t think you will be able to handle it if Remus was afraid of you. Remus wasn’t kept in the dark from the missions you had done. He knew every person you killed and every person you prisoned. He was there in the states after a terrible mission went wrong years ago, he was told of the horrors you had endured. You were gone for four months before you were founded along your team. 

“No.” He told you, bringing his hands up to cup your face. Your hair was now dried and you wore an old sweater you took from him and a pair of dark jeans. 

“I can never be afraid of you.” Remus mumbled against your forehead then pressed a kiss against it.  His lips went down to kiss the side of your face, you shut your eyes as he rubbed your cheek with his thumbs as he continued to kiss you. He leans down to capture your lips. 

He drinks your moan as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He pushed you gently against the wall, he had you pin up as he pulled away from your lips. With his forehead against yours, he’s breathing heavily. 

“I missed you so much.” He whispers and you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him. Remus whines as you make out with him. He smirked against your lips when he felt your hands on his hips, fingers making their way to his belt. 

You pull away from his lips to catch your breath, you look at him with hooded eyes as you undo his belt and unzip his trousers. 

“I missed you too. So bad, I would-oh god. I would touch myself with your sweaters back in the states.” Remus lets out a pleased groan as his fingers work with the button of your jeans. 

“Did you cum on it?” Remus asks as your mouth drops open when he slips his hands inside your pants. He licks his lips when he feels your soft curls on your mound. The tip of his fingers are wet when he rubs against your clit. 

“Yes.” You whine as Remus kisses your neck as his fingers swirled around your clit, pressing hard against it. You grabbed his arms when he nibbled on your neck. 

He moans when he licks the healed bite mark on your neck as he fastens his strokes, you blush at the sound of your wet cunt. Remus growls when your underwear restricts him from going faster. He removes his hand and quickly takes you to the living room. 

You push him on to the dark green couch that stood in front of the fireplace, it was on. Kreacher must have started a fire to keep the old house warm. Remus watches as you tip your shoes off. He blinks and he sees you have used magic to remove your pants and underwear before he can do the same thing. You got on top of him, straddling him. 

Remus meets your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands rubbed your outer legs before pushing the sweater you had up, showing your bare chest. He groaned when he felt your bare chest, you didn’t put on a bra. The thought of you without wearing one made him grow harder. 

“Fuck.” You whispered, pulling away from his lips when he rubs your nipple with one hand. Remus licks his lips watching your pretty face. 

He feels your cunt against this groin, he’s biting his bottom lip when your hips swirled on him. It’s been too long, too long without you. Remus counted the days whenever you were to return back home. Days would be spent together, in bed and out of bed. Enjoying each other's bodies and minds. Remus felt like he was a teenager again when you removed his sweater and threw it over the couch. Remus’ mouth dropped when he saw your naked figure. He will always be amazed by it. 

You looked like a painting to him. Years working as an auror was shown on your body, there were few scars over your shoulders and arms. Some were on your legs and thighs. Scars from your childhood, is a reminder to Remus how strong you are, how you survived. Remus knows how many you have, he has kissed each of them. Just as you did to him. His heart fills up with warmth when he remembers the days after a full moon. You would kiss his fresh scars, kiss his lips and remind him how much you loved him. 

Remus watches you place your hands on his chest when you move your hips. Your wet pussy is soaking the crotch of his trousers. 

Remus grabs you by the hips and pushes you to rise up. He’s breathing heavily as he pushes his trousers and boxers further down. His cock springs out and he’s looking up at you as he teases your slicked lips with the head of his cock. You gasped when you felt his fat head rub against your clit. 

“Please.” Remus begs and you slowly lower yourself down on his cock. He helps you when you cry out when you slide down on his girthy shaft. He groans when your tight cunt clenches around him. His hands grips your hips, he breathes through his mouth, trying to calm himself, to not lose control and start thrusting upwards. 

“Oh baby - is so big.” You tell him with a high pitched whine. Remus groaned when you began to roll your hips, his hands on your hips started to help you to move up and down. He was getting impatient, he had to feel you cum in his dick. It’s been so long since he felt your cunt cumming on him. 

Moaning his name, you look down at Remus. He brings a hand to your face, pulling you down to lay your forehead against his. His eyes were wide as he stared at you while riding him. Your nails were digging on the shirt he wore. You imagined him naked, oh fuck Remus was still in clothes but you couldn’t stop. How could you stop when his cock is hitting you on your sweet spot. It made your toes curl up,  Remus started to speak in Welsh. His voice is low and deep, you clenched around him once more. 

You knew a few words here and there but hearing him speak in his mother tongue made your pussy drool. You rode him harder, the couch under him creaked. 

“That’s it. That’s it, yes.” Remus praised you as he kissed your neck. You cry out when you feel his teeth on your neck, throwing your head back when he grabbed your hips with both hands and pulled you all the down to his lap. 

A growl escapes from his lips and he begins to thrust his hips upwards. He struggles with his trouser now and you swore you can hear it rip. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding on for dear life. 

“Remus.” You cry out when he starts pounding you from underneath. Your clit is rubbing against his happy trail. You feel him deep inside of you when you cum. Remus is cupping your ass, squeezing it as you cum on him. Remus groans as he squishes his face against your chest. His mouth finds your nipple and he starts to suck on it while you twitch on his cock. 

Remus feels you gush in his lap and it makes him release his load deep inside of you. You feel his nails digging into your skin, you drop your weight on him and he welcomes it. Wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you close as he leans back on the couch. 

It’s quiet for a few moments, Remus is breathing heavily as he holds you. He hears your heart beating so loudly as he is still pressed against your chest. Your arms around his shoulder move up to his neck. He looks up when he feels you push his hair away from his face. 

“Fy nghariad.” (My love.) You whispered to him in welsh. 

---

Sirius wakes up with a massive headache. He sat up as he pushed his messy curls out of his face. Rubbing his eyes with his hands, he groans when he starts to remember last night. He was crying, Remus was in tears, Harry cried and you cried. Fuck, everyone was crying. 

But even with all the crying and the sad feelings. Sirius smiled as he remembered your words, back together as a family. 

He remembered Remus’ words before he fell asleep. His dear friend had grabbed his hands and assured him that they would be staying with him. Sirius' smile didn’t falter, he rose up from his bed and grabbed his wand from the night stand. He had no doubt, it was Remus who placed it knowing he was going to need it. 

Sirius opened the door of his bedroom and walked out. Looking down the hall all the way at the end. He sees the guest bedroom door is closed, he keeps walking to the staircase. 

‘I’ll let them rest.’ Sirius tells himself. Sirius knew that Remus and you would want to sleep in. He makes his way into the living room when he almost slips. He shouts loudly but catches himself in time. With his hand on the wall, he looks down to see a sweater. 

It couldn’t be his because he has never worn a sweater that wasn’t his quidditch sweater. Plus it was dark green, green isn’t his color. He looks around the living room to see other pieces of clothing around the living room.

“Ridiculous, this is. That werewolf and mudblood are messy and leave their disgusting clothes everywhere.” Sirius rolled his eyes and was about to walk into the kitchen when he noticed a pink underwear by the edge of the rug. 

His cheeks flared up in a blush and he’s about to continue on to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. He yells at Kreacher to answer it as he walks into the kitchen. He gives a silent thanks to that old grouchy elf when he sees the kettle was on. He grabs a cup and a plate from the wall and Kreacher pops near him. 

“Master Black. Someone strange is here for the mudblood.” Sirius’ eyes darkened once Kreacher repeated that foul name again. He had to stopped it, if you going to stay here. He pointed a finger at Kreacher. 

“Stop saying that. I mean it.” Kreacher just bows and Sirius walks out of the kitchen to the living room. At first Sirius believes he’s still sleeping. There’s a man, a cowboy. A tall man with blue jeans along with a sliver large buckle belt and light beige color suit jacket, he has a brown cowboy hat on top of his head and it matches with his brown boots. 

“Howdy, there sir. The name is Miles and I’m lookin’ for Mrs. Lupin.” 

Before Miles, the cowboy can speak again. Sirius just yells loudly as he stares at the man in front of him. 

“YANNNNNNKEEEEEEEEE!!” 

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

[perpetualprocrastinationisme]

"Rosamund, he's now part of the London Enclave. You'll meet him again," said James, as Jesse mimed what James though was someone being saved from a sinking ship. "But look at his eyes." She sighed, as if Jesse were not, in fact, present. "Couldn't you just die? Isn't he divine?" "Excruciatingly so," said James. "Sometimes it pains me just to gaze upon him."

It's times like these that I'm reminded that James is very much the son of "the inner depths of my soul are mauve" Will Herondale and "if you keep this up you're going to have to declare your intentions with Six-Fingered Nigel" Tessa Gray.

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺𝚂 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙳?

description: in which charli meets her future girlfriend in a coffee shop in london problem however - she’s bethany england’s cousin

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charli grant x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction! Do not take any of this seriously.

warnings: language, cuteness

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y/n smiley :))

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y/f/n1: vibe 😎

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y/n: ikr 😏

y/f/n2: so many smiley faces

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y/n: 🙂🙂🙂

y/f/n3: ☺️☺️

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y/n: 😘😘

bethanyengland4: 💙💙

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y/n: 💙💙

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username1: omg who is this ?!?!??

y/f/n4: that night was a weird vibe tbf

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y/f/n5: i blame y/n 🤷‍♀️

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y/n: oi fucker

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y/f/n6: you kiss your mother with that mouth 😏

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y/n: no but i kiss yours 😏

mart.thomas: what fun!!

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y/n: love you marta !!

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username2: how does she know the spurs girls ?!

username3: 🧐🧐

y/f/n7: coffee, fashion, night out, wanna be aesthetic, bethany, TRAIN, daisy and the best band set up ever

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daisy_c1: thanks for the info 😭

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y/n: why did he just dissect my post lmao

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daisy_c1: oi leave him alone - he can do whatever he wants 🖕

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y/n: you wanna fight 🧐

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daisy_c1: Y E S

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y/n hummed as she flipped another chair over, the morning sun slowly pushing through London, Bulls Cross road was just starting to get busy as people rushed toward the centre of London for work.

y/n flipped the sign at the door, smiling at Daisy the two workers letting out a joint sigh as they waited for the usual morning rush the coffee shop always had.

Since y/n could remember, her parents had wanted to own a coffee shop, and when y/n's father passed away when she was 18, her mum decided to do it.

The woman baked the best sweet treats and savoury paninis which people adored, she and her five kitchen staff worked out back - switching shifts and y/n with her rotated seven out front worked serving the customers.

y/n enjoyed the ability to bond with people over drinks, and the fact she and her mother mainly employed college/university kids who really enjoyed working and did so with a smile.

The bell echoed and the three shared a look before bursting into it, rushing and bustling as they worked swiftly for the next two hours, battling the morning rush, until the clock finally hit 9am.

"Oh my god!" Daisy groaned, the two slumping onto the counter in relief that the cafe was finally empty. The bell went once more and y/n sighed.

"Slacking on the job?" A voice asked, an amused tone shining through.

"Beth!" y/n grinned, rushing over to her cousin who scooped her up in a tight hug.

"Hey mini!" Bethany cheered. "Here for my morning dose of caffeine!" She adds and y/n nods as Daisy starts making Bethany's usual coffee order.

"How are you?" y/n asked her cousin as she moves back behind the counter.

"Good, we have a new signing starting today, so I'm excited." Bethany nods and y/n smiles.

"Yeah, Charlie Grant right? The Australian?" y/n asks and Bethany nods.

"You do pay attention, you do care!" Bethany says, grinning at the fact her cousin, who didn't really like football knew who their new signing was.

"Meh, a little bit." y/n laughs, holding up her pointer finger and her thumb to make a small space between them.

The two cousin's share a laugh before Daisy hands Bethany her coffe, the woman thanking her as Daisy shrugs it off, miming to y/n she was going to go outside for a minute and have a vape which y/n allows with a nod and a smile.

"I will see you tonight yeah, for dinner?" Bethany asks y/n who nods happily.

"Yeah of course." y/n smiles and Bethany grins, leaning over to press a kiss to her younger cousin's cheek.

"See you tonight! Love you." Bethany calls.

"Love you too!" y/n calls out, before the door shuts and the cafe is quiet once more.

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Only twenty minutes after Bethany had got her coffee the door opened again and a blonde wondered in, eyes wide as she looked around at the menu, mouth every so often moving along with the words of the items on the menu.

Daisy had been sent to get some school work done in the staff area out the back, y/n telling her to come back just before quarter to eleven, which was when their lunch rush would start until 2 - Leonard would also be in by then and then once 3 hit Daisy would go home.

"Hiya, can I help?" y/n asked, a smile on her face as the girl looked at her and her cheeks reddened.

"Oh, hi. Um, what's good in here?" The woman asked and y/n smiled at her.

"Depends, what do you like the look of?" y/n asked, turning to look at the menu which was big enough to have some variety on but not stupidly big.

"I like the look of you." The girl said, seemingly without thinking and y/n's head snapped to her, the girl covered her mouth in embarrassment and y/n giggled.

"Thank you, however I am not on the menu." y/n laughed and the girl giggled slightly. "I'm y/n." She added, holding out her hand.

"Charli." The girl introduced, shaking y/n's hand.

"I'm guessing from the accent, you're not for around here?" y/n asks.

"No, I'm from the motherland of Australia." Charli smiles and y/n chuckles.

"Well Charli, welcome to London! Now what can I get for ya?" y/n asked.

Once Charlie had ordered her drink, y/n got on with making it quick and putting it in a to go cup. She then handed it to the woman opposite, ignoring the way their finger bushed as Charli took it.

"Can I get your number, maybe you could show me around London, y'know?" Charli asks and y/n smiles.

"Tell you what, come back tomorrow morning, and I'll give you my number." y/n nods and Charli grins brightly.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow chick!" Charli before she leaves the cafe and y/n smiles.

"Wasn't that Bethany's new signing?" Daisy asks, y/n jumping in shock having not heard her appear in the back doorway.

"Maybe." y/n chuckled, Daisy rolling her eyes playfully. "What?" y/n asks. "She's really really hot." She adds and Daisy chuckles, grabbing a diet coke at the fridge and going back to studying.

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daisy_c1 just posted on her story

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y/n huffed as she pushed through the restaurant door, moving toward the loud noise of what she was sure were the Tottenham players.

She lid off her coat, her relaxed yet classy dress being on display as she moved toward the table, Becky being the first one to notice her and get up.

"y/n!" Becky cheered, pulling the girl in for a hug.

"Hi Becks!" y/n smiles hugging her as several of the team also raised to their feet. After doing her rounds and saying hi to everyone, y/n noticed Bethany and Charli walking back from the bar, clearly having ordered some non-alcoholic drinks for everyone.

"There she is!" Bethany cheers, moving over to y/n and pulling her in for a tight hug. y/n looked over Bethany's shoulder, winking cheekily at Charli who was watching her with wide shocked eyes.

"Hi Beth, you okay?" y/n asks pulling away, her cousin nodded as she dragged Charli over.

"Charli, this is my cousin and the best coffee maker in town, y/n." Bethany smiles.

"Hi." y/n smiles offering her hand.

"Hey." Charli nods, shaking her hand as Bethany pulls y/n down to sit, Charli the other side.

"I ordered you your usual?" Bethany asks her cousin and y/n nods thanking her with a kiss on your cheek. Bethany then gets into a conversation with Marta, so y/n turns to Charli.

"So, Bethany is your cousin?" Charli asks. "My captain?" She asks again and y/n chuckles.

"Still want my number?" y/n asks hopefully.

"You are really fit." Charli sighs and y/n chuckles, the two sharing a laugh. "I guess you'll just have to see if I come in tomorrow." Charli hums.

"You better." y/n warns and Charli just giggles, before the two turn to separate people to talk.

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The next morning, y/n went through the rush and the watched the door impatiently, hoping to see a familiar blonde walk through the door.

At 9.05am y/n sighed and assumed Charli had gone straight to training so started making herself a hot chocolate, and one for one of the newbies that was currently studying out back.

"Can I get some service?" A voice asks and y/n jumps, turning to see Charli waiting with a cheeky grin. y/n furrows her brows wondering how she didn't here the bell of the door.

"You came." y/n said with a small smile.

"Well you see, there's a really good offer on the table of this beautiful chicks number." Charli sighs and y/n chuckles.

"Oh yeah, want me to go get her?" y/n asks and Charli nods.

"Would ya? She's stunning and may be related to the Tottenham women captain." Charli nods.

y/n chuckles before spinning on the spot and mockingly gasping at Charli, as if she didn't know she was there, at this Charli bursts into laughter.

"Charli, lovely to see you." y/n smiles and Charli smiles softly back.

"So..." Charli says, resting against the counter.

"You looking for this?" y/n asks, holding up a napkin with her number scrawled across.

"Yes I am indeed." Charli nods, leaning over and snatching it from y/n's hand before she could blink. The blonde had the number in her phone and ringing quickly.

y/n's phone vibrated on the side and Charli nodded, happy to know that the number was correct and y/n now had her number. y/n chuckled slightly as she grabbed her phone and added Charli as a contact.

"I have to go." Charli says softly. "But do you think we could meet up, outside of Spurs dinners and coffee shop counters?" Charli asks and y/n smiles softly, texting across her answer.

to charli: tomorrow here, 7pm.

Charlie looks up back at y/n, a bright smile on her face when she realises they are going on a date and she nods her head.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." Charli nods before leaning over the counter and pecking y/n's cheek. "Bye!" Charli calls before rushing out.

y/n bit her lip, smiling softly before running a hand over her cheek, she then sighs and opens her phone quickly texting Bethany, who replies far quicker than expected.

to bethyyyy <3: if I asked to date one of your team-mates, what would you say? x

from bethyyyy <3: this abt Charli?

to bethyyyy <3: wtf - what the actual fuck - how did...

from bethyyyy <3: please a lesbian always knows

to bethyyyy <3: hahahahahahahah

from bethyyyy <3: go for it btw! xx

to bethyyyy <3: love you x

from bethyyyy<3: love you too xx

y/n smiled as she looked up from her phone, before grinning at the ceiling and fist bumping herself - all she had to do was take Charli to a good first date. And she had just the place.

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y/n umm hi everyone ?

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y/f/n1: soooooo many people omg 😶😶

^

y/n: 🫣🫣

y/f/n2: a lotta coffeee that day ! 😝

^

y/n: it was quite the day ! 😅

^

y/f/n2: 😂😂

username1: is it me or is she so pretty ?!! 😍😍

samanthakerr20: was great to meet you pookie !! I WILL BE RETURNING FOR YOUR MOTHERS CAKES 😍😍

^

y/n: 🥰😘

beckyspencer91: that night was so good ‘kiss me martinis’ yummm 😌😌

^

y/n: 💋💋

username2: so she’s bethany’s cousin?!?!

charli_grant: i need to STOP taking selfies on your phone ! 😭

^

y/n: no I like them !! ☺️

^

cailtlinfoord: ‘no i like them’ 😶

daisy_c1: omg those flowers 😍😍

^

y/n: you got them for me ?!!!!

^

daisy_c1: i know i just wanted to make sure everyone knew what a great bff i am ☺️

^

charli_grant: 🚨 DAISY IS A GREAT BEST FRIEND 🚨

^

y/n: 😂😂😂

bethanyengland4: love you little one!!

^

y/n: Love you tooo!!!!!

kyracooneyx: that last photo took Charli and I wayyyyy to long to do 😅

^

y/n: in the rain as well

^

charli_grant: NO Y/N WAIT YOU HAVE TO GET THE AESTHETIC ANGLE - kyra after making us stand in the rain for five minutes 🙄

see more comments...

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y/n chuckled as her phone continued to go off, neither her or Charli bothered as they continued to skate around the empty roller rink, everyone having gone home.

y/n held her hand out for Charli, the blonde grasping it as they rolled over the wood, singing along to the music as they did so, Charli pulled y/n slightly, arms wrapping around her waist as she pulled the girl into her chest.

y/n breathed in shock, arms wrapping around Charli's shoulders as the blonde skates them both, y/n not attempting to skate backwards, just letting Charli bring her along.

"I really enjoyed tonight." Charli whispered quietly, pushing a strand of hair away from y/n's eyes.

"Does that mean you want another one?" y/n asks hopefully, Charli smiling as she skates them toward the exit.

"I'd love to." Charli nods, as she holds y/n's hands, letting her get from the rink.

"Yeah?" y/n asks, smiling as Charli nods.

"Yeah." Charli smiles, the two taking their skates off and thanking the workers before sliding their trainers back on and walking back outside.

"Come on, there is one more thing to do." y/n smiles, dragging Charli toward her car where the two get in, turning the heat on to keep them warm as y/n drives to a spot just outside the woods, the Tottenham training centre the other side of them.

"Have you brought me here to kill me?" Charli asks as they get out, coats zipped up.

"Shut up." y/n laughs.

"No, cause I warn ya, I'm scrappy." Charli says and y/n laughs more.

"Oh shush." y/n hums climbing onto the roof of her Volvo. "Come on." She adds as she lays back, Charli joining her with a furrowed brow.

"What are ya doing chick?" Charli asks her.

"Lie down and look up Charl." y/n says, Charli doing as she was told, a gasp falling from her lips. "Out here, the light pollution isn't as bad, so you can actually see all the stars." y/n smiles at her.

"It's beautiful." Charli says, y/n humming in agreement as she watches the scene above her. "Thank you for tonight, it's been fantastic." Charli admits softly.

"I think the company's been the best thing." y/n says, turning her head to face Charli, the blonde doing the same.

"You know, I would agree." Charli smiles softly, her hand reaching out to find y/n's, the two linking their fingers as they turn back to the stars.

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charli_grant just posted on her story

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END

okay there will deffo be a part two to this but once I have fought my way through requests!

-

Queenie! x

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Adult SFF Books Bracket: Round 1

Book summaries below:

The Bone Season series (The Bone Season, The Mime Order, The Song Rising, The Mask Falling, The Dark Mirror, and other stories) by Samantha Shannon

The year is 2059. For two centuries, the Republic of Scion has led an oppressive campaign against unnaturalness in Europe.

In London, Paige Mahoney holds a high rank in the criminal underworld. The right hand of the ruthless White Binder, Paige is a dreamwalker, a rare and formidable kind of clairvoyant. Under Scion law, she commits treason simply by breathing.

When Paige is arrested for murder, she meets the mysterious founders of Scion, who have designs on her uncommon abilities. If she is to survive and escape, Paige must use every skill at her disposal – and put her trust in someone who ought to be her enemy.

Fantasy, dystopia, paranormal, urban fantasy, near future, series, adult

Witchmark by C.L. Polk (The Kingston Cycle series)

In an original world reminiscent of Edwardian England in the shadow of a World War, cabals of noble families use their unique magical gifts to control the fates of nations, while one young man seeks only to live a life of his own.

Magic marked Miles Singer for suffering the day he was born, doomed either to be enslaved to his family's interest or to be committed to a witches' asylum. He went to war to escape his destiny and came home a different man, but he couldn’t leave his past behind. The war between Aeland and Laneer leaves men changed, strangers to their friends and family, but even after faking his own death and reinventing himself as a doctor at a cash-strapped veterans' hospital, Miles can’t hide what he truly is.

When a fatally poisoned patient exposes Miles’ healing gift and his witchmark, he must put his anonymity and freedom at risk to investigate his patient’s murder. To find the truth he’ll need to rely on the family he despises, and on the kindness of the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen.

Fantasy, romance, mystery, paranormal, secondary world, adult

[leclsrc]

prompt 35 with Charles????

everyone adores you – cl16

genre: fluff, drabble, 1k celebration

35: an awkward kiss given after a first date. title from this

Charles loves the story of your first date. He tells it often, over wine nights with the drivers or Secret Santa exchanges with friends. Over a glass of red or a fake Santa beard, he quells the room and goes: “Did I ever tell you guys the story of our first date?” And although everyone groans and lets out a bunch of affirmative answers, still he meets your eye from across the room, where you’re nursing white wine, or wearing an elf hat, and you smile, winking.

“Okay then!” He hollers, miming a shush motion. “No need to pressure me! I’ll tell it.”

And everyone groans again, a collective sigh, because Charles loves to pull out his best theatrics for your love story, and it means sitting through another living room one man play. Alex pretends to stand and get up, and Lily sloshes her wine or tugs her Santa hat off in her hurry to pull him beside her, because she loves the story so much. Max groans and slides onto the floor, spilling his vino or shedding his ugly fleece sweater.

You’re always silent when Charles insists on telling it because, although you fully understand the sarcastic disappointment, you also know that everyone loves the story deep down, loves your boyfriend’s goofy antics. And his storytelling aside, you’ll admit: your first date was the stuff of films.

Set up by Lewis (who continues to claim it was his worst mistake during gatherings like these), you’d met in London, where you were based for work at the time. Charles arranged the whole thing himself, with the pride of a six-year-old with a messy drawing, and looked up the best restaurants in the area. You met him outside the expensive-looking restaurant, and—

“—she goes, ‘I hope you’re paying for everything!’ and I go, ‘of course I will!’” Charles says energetically, the whole room watching him with amusement. He slides back and forth on your wooden floor, playing both you and himself, and then when it reaches that point of the story, the snooty French restaurant host: “He goes, ‘how may I help you, zir and madmwasel?’ and I go, ‘oh, I called you the other day—to reserve a table for two. Under Leclerc.’”

You looked expectantly at the host’s finger sliding through the seating chart, flipping a page, sliding through another, and then looking up with an unsmiling face. His expression said it all, and you were getting ready to leave when Charles began arguing, insisting he really did reserve a table, maybe you just can’t spell, I called your number, here it is.

“And the French host, he says, ‘zir, zis is not our number. Our number endz in 5-4-0, not 5-0-4.’” Charles pauses for dramatic effect even if everybody knows what happens next, holding his arms up. “You might be wondering, where did I reserve that table?”

“Nobody is wondering,” Pierre quips, wearing a Christmas tree sweater. Yuki swats him quiet, wearing the exact same one. 

“It was in a chicken shop down the street. So we ate there, she and I,” Charles says dramatically. “And I kept thinking, oh oh oh I’ve fucked it up, yes? No!” (A bit.) “We ate chicken and chips, and had soda, and I learned everything about her. We were probably expecting to eat steak and beef and drink wine”—he raises a glass—“but we made do. And I don’t regret it. But that’s not all!”

It isn’t. Your night had ended in front of your flat, still laughing over anecdotes shared in-between bites of chips and sips of Coke. Work awaited the both of you, so you made a flimsy excuse to go inside and thanked him for bringing you home. But you didn’t walk inside yet, like you were waiting for something.

“Something like a signature Charles kiss,” your boyfriend says proudly. “But nothing was good about the kiss. I leaned and she didn’t, and we were both stiff, and unprepared.” Everyone has a window to laugh despite themselves, because the way he describes you both is so unlike how you are now. It’s so unbelievable, it’s silly. And even you allow a laugh, hiding behind your giant glass of wine or pulling the elf hat over your shy eyes.

You’d kissed, stiff and cold, and pulled away fully aware of the stiffness and coldness of the kiss. You had smiled to try and play off the stiff cold kiss that still lingered, and then opened the door to your flat and shut it. In your head, you wondered if your chemistry seemed good in the chicken shop and then ultimately wilted when it came to everything else.

“So I stood there.” Charles says, sipping wine, hand on hip, like a middle-aged mom. “And I thought, no way am I going to let that beautiful girl go home without a proper kiss! So…”

You were still leaning against the door, not even toeing off your shoes, when it rattled thrice. You swung it open, and allowed him to kiss you then. This time it felt right somehow. Not stiff, not cold, not awkward. Turns out, you just needed to not think about it, and it became the most memorable first kiss you’d ever had.

He finishes the story, panting with the intensity of his acting. Scattered clapping meets the finale and you whoop, throwing your hat or a throw pillow to serve as a congratulatory rose. You’ve grown to realize that Charles’ stories of wins, victories, overlaps—they never go like this. He’s quieter, less excited. But for the story of your first date, he pulls out all the stops.

You wonder what comes next. Charles, though: he wonders if you’ve noticed the indent of the ring box in his jeans pocket, an introduction to a story for another day.