#oh harry i wanna fight you so bad but i have to say you’re one strong soldier to have your man look like that all the time

[alloutshirt]

[freedomfireflies]

Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it. 

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine. 

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door. 

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions. 

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence. 

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours  and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say. 

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?” 

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over. 

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out. 

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment. 

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh. 

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.” 

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

 He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit. 

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one. 

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy. 

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle. 

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment. 

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon. 

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up. 

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow. 

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.” 

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat. 

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further. 

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?” 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?” 

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop. 

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent. 

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot. 

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave. 

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open. 

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

[hp-hcs]

(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 6 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)

love triangle — rival! ron weasley x male! reader

solving a love triangle in the only correct (and gay) way

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Hey, Hermione,” you said with a cheeky grin, sitting across from her.

She glanced up. “Hey, Y/N..?”

“D’you wanna go to the Yule Ball with me?”

“Oh! Uh, that’s very sweet of you to offer-”

“-but I’m sure Hermione would much rather go with someone else,” interrupted the annoyance that was Ron Fucking Weasley.

You glared at him. “But of course, going to a dance with a platonic date is rather pathetic, wouldn’t you agree, Granger?”

Ron opened his mouth to snap back, when Hermione interrupted the both of them. “Boys, boys, you’re both pretty, stop fighting. I’ve already got a date.”

You turn to look at her quizzically, saying at the same time as Ron, “Who?”

“Well, if you must know, Viktor Krum.”

~~~

The Ball crept closer, Hogwarts’ halls alive with excited whispers and laughs. It seemed like everyone had a date except for you. And Ron, you supposed.

(And Ron’s friend, Harry. Although you had sneered in passing to the ginger, “looks like he’s got eyes for your sister, Weasley,” which had almost led to a fight breaking out in the halls as he hollered for you to “shut your bloody mouth!”)

((Sure enough, within the week, Harry Potter had a date to the Yule Ball—Ginny Weasley. You took great pleasure at smiling smugly at Ron whenever you saw him.))

Hermione’s rejection hadn’t deterred either of you though. Ron seemed determined to outdo you. When you gave her a tiger lily you’d picked in Herbology, Ron sent a bouquet of flowers to her dorm. When you split a Chocolate Frog with her, Ron took her to Honeydukes. Anytime you saw each other in the halls, you glared daggers sharp enough to make the paintings rattle on the walls uncomfortably. It was all-out war.

Even the teachers seemed to notice, for better or for worse.

“I’m taking your girlfriend to Flourish & Blotts this weekend, Weasley,” you whispered casually under your breath to your elbow partner in Potions.

“I swear to Merlin, L/N, I’ll-”

“Mr. Weasley, Mr. L/N, if you’d care to pay attention rather than chatter about your meaningless weekend plans,” Professor Snape drawled, glaring his beady little eyes on you both. “Ten points from Gryffindor.”

You stifled a giggle under your breath, accidentally making eye contact with Ron, whose embarrassed expression and red-tinged ears made you just absolutely lose it. You had to clamp one hand over your mouth to prevent any laughter from escaping.

Then, much to your surprise, Ron started chuckling quietly too, cheeks still flushed from the reprimand.

“Pay attention,” he drawled under his breath in a mocking imitation of Snape. You snorted, clearing your throat to disguise the noise when the Professor in question whirled around to see who dared disrupt his class.

~~~

After class, you elbowed Ron in the hall. “Man, Snape’s such a dick, right?”

“Totally. He’s got it out for me, I swear.”

“I think he’s just got it out for Gryffindors in general. Remember when he antagonized Longbottom so bad that he was his boggart?”

“Yeah, that was brutal,” Ron shook his head, as you both walked to your next class together. “Hey, look, I just wanted to say like, sorry? I’ve been kind of an ass to you this whole year…” Ron trailed off.

“Nah, it’s fine, man. I haven’t been much better. I think we both kind of got caught up in the competition of asking her out,” you shrugged. There was no reason to clarify who her was. “Truce?”

“Yeah,” Ron smiled. “I’d like that.”

~~~

So here you were, alone at the Yule Ball, your friends having left you to dance with their dates. You leaned against the wall, watching the couples twirl around with a mild tinge of jealousy. Sipping your drink, you surveyed the crowd, appraising everyone.

When your eyes landed on Hermione, who was being lifted up and spun around by Viktor Krum, your first thought was not one of envy, but rather, she would’ve looked much better in blue. Your gaze drifted to her date, and lingered on Krum for a moment too long.

Damn, he looks good, you thought to yourself, blinking quickly at the thought. Where did that come from?

Ron sidled up to you, looking rather smug for someone wearing such an ugly outfit. “She’s having the time of her life, isn’t she?”

“Huh? Oh- yeah, yeah, I guess,” you mumbled, your gaze drifting back to Viktor.

How can someone look so hot? That ought to be illegal.

Ron’s eyes narrowed, and he followed your gaze. “Merlin, dude. Are you staring at Krum?”

“What? No! S-shut up!”

He snickered, patting your shoulder patronizingly. “S’alright, man. I’ve been watching Diggory all night myself.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’re-”

“Yeah,” he cut you off, lips thinning a bit. “That bother you?”

“Not a hypocrite, Weasley.”

He glanced at you, clearly taken off guard. You kept his gaze for a long moment, finding the way his blush matched his hair to be rather cute.

“Care to dance then, L/N?”

“If you can keep up, Weasley.”

You two took to the dance floor, twirling around like idiots and laughing loudly. Neither of you noticed your respective friends, and the teacher chaperones, watching on in morbid fascination.

And when you kissed at the end of the song, neither of you noticed Harry scowling as he handed both Ginny and Hermione a galleon each.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[independent-fics]

Inde watches “The Tower Job”

Leverage Redemption 1x04

The description warns about recent events affecting the viewers and if I remember correctly when redemption first aired it was right around the Miami(?) apartment collapse. Dang. 

Listen let Harry take initiative on this one okay.

“So she thinks she has taste” I love you Breanna

I love Parker dropping in more

And Breanna just being like I can just have the plans? She wants to steal so bad

Ahhhhh I love Eliot and Parker standing so close. And the klingon I can’t those nerds and the smile Parker has hehehe now Eliot’s grumpy again and she loves it

10 million hurts my brain too Breanna

Eliot’s head shake at her French hahaha I love them

Why is the wife and driver giving affair

“Because my American accent is better than yours” honestly I wanna explore Parker’s language mannerisms (? Idk if that’s the word I’m looking for)

Harry I love your enthusiasm. There isn’t rules just guidelines haha

Also Sophie’s fit is so nice

Parker I too am uncomfortable in business clothes

Idk which pair is having more fun Harry and Sophie being annoying or Eliot and Breanna destroying things

Off brand European tranquilizers goodness gracious

Nooooo Harry not you being in on the first lawsuit

“Your screwups make me look good” once again Breanna I love you

“The man’s trying to make amends I respect that” ugh Eliot my heart

Parker once again on the ceiling I love you. Reminded of Hardison always finding her places with rafters

Oooo Eliot love you suggesting the play of the con

Love Breanna and Harry being newbies supporting each other

The way I screamed with Breanna’s character

I love them all supporting Breanna’s art and then just Eliot’s “WHERE.” I LOVE THEM

Mrs Crawlys “I did a year at college of art” is like my “I did a study abroad” 😭 I’m sorry but I get her

Love Harry and contract law hehehe

“We never say no to parties” I love her and how foreboding that sounded and now I’m thinking about every other party the original leverage team invaded hehehe

Oh goodness not Parker knocking Breanna out hahaha but love Eliot helping her up. I’m only four episodes in but I’m desperate for new team old team bonding

Harry and Parker begging for the safe I love them

Eliot absolutely hating the kissing up he just had to do hahah I love him

THERE IS AN AFFAIR

Not Eliot’s lack of tipping annoyance reminded hahaha

Okay I am loving learning more about Harry and the changes he’s making. I get the doing your job and doing it well because who doesn’t want to do that but then realizing it’s not something that you want to be doing.

“We’re not heroes. We’re just necessary”

“ Sophie Parker Hardison and Nathan ford showed me there was another way” ugh Eliot my beloved but HA PARKER IN THE BOX

Wait I love Parker’s fit

Lil Bucky hehehe

“Wow Harry was a good bad guy” yeah Breanna he was I might be taking notes because I gotta retire one day

“I’ll go find some chopsticks” girl

I am also taking notes from Breanna dang

HARRY KEEP IT TOGETHER

“And you’re not graded on a curve Mrs Casey” dang

Oh gosh nvm as someone who also sometimes experiences vertigo get that remote away from me

I love Sophie narrating this whole thing as a show

Breanna putting on the headphones with that evil smile I love haha

BREANNA YES I TOO AM A CHEERLEADER WHEN ELIOT FIGHTS I love her enthusiasm so much and narrating. Eliot don’t deny it you’re flipping the sticks to show off

As much as I love leverage they do have a couple of iffy episodes where they really cause some trauma like wow I’m rooting for Harry rn

That chute thing would terrify me but I love that Parker is loving it

Love them buying the tower

Gosh the change in Harry from being in the first lawsuit to protecting the victims in the next

“It’s not every day someone gets a little piece of their soul back” ugh this was good

[ur-local-bisexual]

HEARTSTOPPER INCORRECT QUOTES

Tao: Sir, can I listen to music?

Mr. Farouk: No Tao, you could be cheating!

Tao: Oh ya! Because Ed Sheeran gonna sing to me isn’t he! *eye roll*

Mr. Farouk: Tao, are you mocking me!?

Tao: Yes! That’s what I do when someone says something stupid!

Mr. Farouk: Also, Darcy! Why do you have your feet up on the desk?! Would you do that at home!?!???!

Darcy: Would I put my feet up at home? Yes you moron!

Mr. Farouk: Apologize for that right now!

Darcy: But whyyyyyyyy?!?!

Mr. Farouk: Until you apologize, you’re not going to lunch

Darcy: I don’t care! The food here tastes worse than your nans feet!

Mr. Farouk: It’s your time you’re wasting!

Darcy: It’s not though is it.

Aled: Sir, don’t act like you don’t want to go see Mr. Ajiei after class!

Mr. Farouk: How the fuck do you know about that!!!????!!!!

Class: *Histarical laughter*

Nick: *Talking to Charlie* Ok, so, you make 10 meals you’re not a chief, you make 20 paintings you’re not an artist!

Charlie: *See’s Ben lying on the floor*

Nick: BUT YOU KILL ONE PERSON!!!!

Charlie: I’m going to a party

Tori: Are you going to get drunk?

Charlie: No

Tori: Are you gonna get in fight?

Charlie: No

Tori: Are you gonna get dick?

Charlie: No

Tori: Then why the fuck do you wanna go to a party?!

Tori: Some people have a boyfriend

Charlie: *blinks*

Tori: Some people have a girlfriend

Charlie: *blinks*

Tori: But IM stuck with DEPRESSION!!!???

Charlie: You wanna know how I’m like a bicycle?

Nick: Because when people learn how to ride you, they never forget. *smirks*

Charlie: *blushes* I..I was gonna say because I was 2 tired 😳

Charlie: My boyfriend is too tall for me to kiss him on the lips. What should I do?

Tori: Punch him in the gut and when he doubles over in pain, kiss him.

Elle: Tackle him!

Tao: Dump him!

Darcy: KICK HIM IN THE SHIN!!!

Nick: NO! TO ALL OF THOSE! Just ask me to lean over!

Imogen: *About Ben*Look at that face! How can anyone spend all day with that face and not fall in love?

Nick: Well, at some point that face starts talking.

Charlie: Tell me something I don't know.

Tori: Without mucus, your stomach would digest itself.

Charlie: Tell me something else. Something less disturbing.

Charlie: Quick, take my hand!

Nick: *Takes it* Now what?

Charlie: Oh nothing, I just wanted to hold hands.

Tori: I was just having a bad day.

Charlie: You threatened to decapitate a man over a parking space.

Tori: A very bad day.

Darcy: You can de-escalate any tense situation by saying 'Are we about to kiss?'

Darcy: It doesn't work on cops though.

Darcy: I’m invoking the “no judgments” clause of our relationship.

Tara: Oh God, what did you do this time?

Harry: So Nick, are you hanging out with us tonight?

Nick: Sorry guys, I can't. Charlie and I have plans.

Harry: Oh come on! Bros before ho-

Nick: *Glares*

Harry: ...Your boyfriend.

Tao: There's nothing sadder that cold hot chocolate.

Aled: Sure there is! What about cold hot chocolate with ketchup in it?

Tao: ...I'm going to pretend you didn't say that.

Charlie: How many times have I told you not to bring wild animals into our apartment?!

Nick: ...None?

Charlie: I shouldn't have to tell you!

Elle: You can't rush perfection.

Tao: I'm not rushing perfection, I'm rushing you.

Darcy: I have good news and bad news.

Tara: What's the bad news?

Darcy: The kangaroo pooped in the shower.

Tara: We don't have a kangaroo.

Darcy: Well, that takes me to the good news.

Nick: I wasn't that drunk last night.

Charlie: You kept flirting with me.

Nick: So?

Charlie: You asked if I was single. And cried when I said no.

Charlie: Hey sweetie, why are you crying?

Nick: It's just so beautiful how much they love each other!

Charlie: ...This is a commercial.

Charlie: For detergent.

Darcy: Do you think if skeletons were real boner would be a slur for them?

Elle: ....skeletons are real.

Darcy: That's the spirit, Elle. They're real for me too.

Elle: You're the most jealous guy I know!

Tao: You know other guys? Who are they?

Nick: I know I've been talking about him all morning, but another thing that I love about Charlie is that he just gets me.

Tao: Can he come get you right now?

[eris-snow]

4. 𝐀 𝐂𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲.

Tags:bakugou x fem!reader, juxtaposition, angst, fluff, swearing, more swearing (It's Katsuki what do you expect)

Living life like this is like watching a scene unfold from a background character’s eyes. You’re just seeing things happen from the sidelines, and no matter how hard you try, you’re helplessly held in place.

Katsuki has learnt which lines he can step over and which lines he should not when he’s with you. Some of them are blurry, but as long as he stays as far away from the cliff as possible, he won’t fall off the edge. When you don’t want to talk about something, you grow silent and ignore him completely.

He’s learned not to press for details.

He’s mostly hanging there for one or two hours while finishing assignments. Between homework and internships, it’s a miracle that he squeezes you into his schedule.

But he does, and he finds it the best decision of his life.

—

“Bakugou, can you help me with this question?”

“Tch, what's so hard about trigo? Just insert the damn formula, idiot.”

“Get off your high horse.”

“Get a better brain.”

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

“I don’t trust ya. Give me the pen.”

—

“Fuck!”

“Bad day?”

“I will punch your piano to dust and ash, and once there aren’t any more visible chunks, I will find someone to revert it to its original state and do it again.”

“Code red. Take a seat.”

__

“They moved Speech Day.”

“I don’t care.”

“Aren’t you in it?”

“It’s just two fucking weeks. You try doing paperwork and a literature essay and caring about unimportant shit simultaneously.”

“Okay, Mr I Saved The World, sorry if that was news to me.”

“Shut it, blabbermouth.”

—

“So you just laid in bed? The entire damn day?”

“I’ll have you know that I did homework and watered my desk plant. I’ve been plenty efficient.”

“Your plant?”

“Excuse you, it’s a very nice cactus.”

“We’re talking schedules, Green thumbs. What the hell? I barely have time to sleep, let alone water plants.”

“Maybe I should get you a plant.”

“That has literally nothing to do with this conversation.”

“Mine’s named Fluffy.”

“Oh, come on—”

—

“You’re kind of cool, you know.”

“I do know.”

“Like, you pulled a Harry Potter on the battlefield. Did you see Dumbledore?”

“Are you making light of my death?”

“No, I’m trying to get your mind off it ‘cause you’re being emo again.”

“I’m what?”

“And you’re back.”

—

“Bakugou, Fluffy died.”

“The cactus?”

“Yeah. I’m kinda sad actually.”

“I ain’t comforting you.”

“Well, damn, okay.”

“If it bothers you that much, I’ll buy you another stupid cactus. Will that appease you?”

“Fluffy 2.0?”

“What is with you and naming things—”

“Fluffy 2.0?”

“Yes, jeez! Put the pen down, you look ridiculous.”

“I will fight you.”

—

“You’re a glitch, you know?” Bakugou grouched, throwing his bag onto the stage. The blond has known you for about a month, and he’s managed to pick out a good handful of reactions from you. That’s why, even as you retort, “You’re unpleasant. Did you know that?” as you unplug the earbuds from your ears, he also notices you chew your lip and averts your eyes away from him.

Touchy subject.

“You said you were from Mind Fuck’s old class, right? He didn’t know jack shit about you. You’re practically invisible, but your name is somehow captured when they had to take class photos last year. I just find it strange that you’re there but not fuckin’ there at the same time.”

“I thought we agreed for you to drop this.”

“I thought we agreed not to lie to each other.”

That line seems to make you falter. Whatever the situation, you always seem so against lying straight to someone’s face. Deluding someone, however, didn’t seem to be a problem.

“I don’t wanna talk about it. You don’t see me pushing to know your sob backstory with Midoriya.”

Katsuki reels back so fast that he almost knocks down a stack of neatly arranged certificates on the desk. When he opens his mouth to reply, the words taste like bile on his tongue. “We’re not talking about that.”

You raise your eyebrow as if to say ‘See what I mean?’.

He wants to press for information because every time he gets close you go tight-lipped, but after getting a good look at you he hesitates. You have dark eyebags under your eyes, more prominent than usual, and the way you carry yourself screams how much you don’t want to be here.

It’s almost like your arms are weighed down by chains, and you’re fighting to keep awake.

Katsuki’s been there before. Katsuki knows that place like it was his old friend. He gets it, and that’s the only reason why he stops pushing you..

“You need to go soon,” You said, fixing the stack of credentials and realining the trophies. “Aren’t you one of the awardees? They’re having a briefing downstairs in 5. It’s not very hero-like to be late.”

“Left my pen here, dumbass,” Katsuki rolled his eyes, swiping it off the piano. “And you should leave too. Don’t think the teacher would appreciate stragglers lurking in the curtains like dust bunnies under a bed.”

“I’m part of the backstage crew,” you reply with an eyebrow raised. “Unlike you, I’m supposed to be here.”

You are?

It takes Katsuki to realise he’d said those words out loud, because, of course he did.

You huff, gaze cutting into his eyes. A wave of familiarity washes over him. He swore he’s never lived through this experience before, but it feels all too similar to…

“I don’t tell you everything going on in my life, Bakugou. Easy things flow out like water, and difficult things get stuck like glue. The daily stuff goes in between. It gets sticky along the way, so it never makes it out of my mouth.”

Huh. For some reason, he feels like he’s heard that somewhere before.

—

The teacher glances over you like you’re transparent, and it takes 3 tries to get her attention and 5 to hold onto it.

You watch as the students fly across the stage, each person with a different award. There’re familiar faces.

Studious Yaoyorozu had won Top In Academic Standing(to no one’s surprise), and Izuku had gotten an award for Longest Internship Hours, first runner-up of the Sports Festival, top in Rescue Training and Hero History.

Todoroki had tumbled into third place for the Sports Festival, and was happy to take home the trophy for Best Intern (Voted by their respective heroes-in-charge.)

Half of the hero course had said it was rigged, but Todoroki couldn’t care less and the blatant smugness in his smile said all of it.

You went down the list, taking less than 5 seconds to find the name you were looking for. Katsuki’s prizes were nothing to scoff at either.

Peeking out from behind the curtain, you were just in time to see the ash-blond step onto the stage confidently as the speaker stated his shiny, impressive achievements.

“….Katsuki Bakugou who is the Sports Festival Champion, Top in Combat and Top In Level!”

You watch Principal Nezu hand him all his trophies and certificates, and the way he smirks at the camera, relishing the spotlight on him. You can see the sheer joy on his face.

He deserves it, he really does. You know how hard he works, he’s told you and you’ve seen it.

Jealousy burns the back of your throat, thorns of ‘I wish’ suffocating your trachea.

Damn, I wish that was me.

You slam a hand against your mouth, but almost as quickly as you did, you ease it off. It’s still an instinct, even though you’re sure no one would hear you.

You watch Katsuki turn in your direction as he walks off the stage, which makes you recede into the darkness.

Coward.

Drape yourself in layers of shadows, hide yourself away because you can’t really remember the last time you’ve ever been under those searing lights.

How nice it must feel, to be seen and recognised.

[raisingcain7433]

Incorrect Quotes

Harry: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly. Valkyrie, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

Valkyrie: I refuse to apologize for being weird or off-putting. That’s actually your problem. I’m having a fantastic time!

Harry: WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?! HE COULD HAVE HAD HOPES AND DREAMS, HE COULD HAVE HAD A FAMILY!!! Valkyrie: Harry- Valkyrie: It- it was just an ant-

Valkyrie: I eat cheerios because they’re heart healthy. Valkyrie: And my heart has been severely damaged, so Militsa, if you’re out there—

Harry: I wanna be a knight! Valkyrie, a knight: What the fuck do you want this shit for? I kill people, all right? Their blood is on my hands! Every night, when I go to sleep, I see their FUCKING faces staring at me! Their families weep, and I FEEL NOTHING! I’M DEAD INSIDE! Harry: Man, I want some of that in my life!

Valkyrie: Do you want some tea? Fletcher: What are the options? Valkyrie: Yes or no.

Harry: Do you feel any better? Valkyrie: I feel much better now that you here with me. Fletcher walks in Valkyrie: I feel half better.

Fletcher: I’m so excited! Valkyrie: We’re gonna have the best costumes, get the most candy… Fletcher: And have the biggest stomach aches ever! Valkyrie: Yeah!

Fletcher: What do you three have to say for yourself? Nefarian: Skulduggery: Valkyrie: Oops?

Valkyrie: What’s wrong? Harry: I have to write a whole paragraph for school. Valkyrie: That’s not so bad; I write entire books. Harry: Yeah, but this has to be good.

Nefarian: Dude, I will never forgive Craigslist for banning me after I wrote a post seeking a sworn nemesis. Whoever reported that is obviously my nemesis but I was so pissed.

Skulduggery: Just trust me. Have I ever put you in an unsafe or uncomfortable situation? Fletcher: All the time. Skulduggery: Then you should be used to it by now.

Harry: Last night I found out Valkyrie is a sleep talker. Skulduggery: Oh, really? Harry: "The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell." Right. In. My. Ear. At 3am.

Nefarian: cooking Fletcher: kicks down door Fletcher: grabs knife from Nefarian's hand Fletcher: WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOR? Nefarian: Nefarian: What. Harry: He's trying to tell you he wants to cook.

Nefarian: Wow, left handed AND British? You really are an illusion.

Fletcher: How do Valkyrie and Harry usually get out of these messes? Skulduggery: They don't. They just make a bigger mess that cancels the first one out.

Nefarian: Help! I’m drowning! Valkyrie: Calm down. We’re only in six feet of water! Nefarian: NOT ALL OF US ARE TALL!

Skulduggery: Come on, you need to go to bed. Harry Snuffles says that I can stay up as long as I want. And that you need to die! Skulduggery: … Skulduggery: What the hell, Sirius—

Skulduggery: So what’s the plan? Harry: I don’t know. You’re smart, points at Valkyrie they’re mean, come up with something.

Skulduggery: I dunno if I'm ready to process the ramifications of this bullshit.

Harry: So anyways have y'all seen Skulduggery? Valkyrie: I think they went in Nefarian's room 'studying'. Fletcher: Doubt that. I heard groans there. Meanwhile in Nefarian's room Skulduggery & Nefarian, fighting:

Harry, looking at a selfie of Valkyrie’s: I hate this photo. Valkyrie: I’m cute as fuck in that photo! I’m smiling kindly. Harry: You’re not smiling kindly; you look like you’re up to something. Valkyrie: Up to kindness.

Nefarian: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

Valkyrie: Stands in trash can. Skulduggery: Valkyrie, not again! You're not trash, you're at least recycling!

Valkyrie: Nefarian always accuses me of having a favourite but that’s not true. Valkyrie: I love Harry and all the not-Harrys equally.

Skulduggery, at the slightest provocation: I came into this earth screaming and covered in someone else's blood and and I'm not afraid to leave the same way.

Fletcher: Nefarian, you need to react when people cry! Nefarian: I did. I rolled my eyes.

Nefarian, shooing Skulduggery away: Can you go be depressed over there? You’re bumming out my whole area.

Nefarian: It smells like henway in here. Skulduggery: Harry: Skulduggery. Harry, forcefully: Doesn't it smell like henway in here? Skulduggery: sigh Skulduggery: What's a henway? Nefarian: OH ABOUT TEN POUNDS!

Valkyrie: I think I need a hug… Fletcher: Good thing I'm hug shaped! 45 minutes later Valkyrie: You… you can let go now. Fletcher: No, I absolutely cannot.

Valkyrie: Fletcher won’t wake up, what do I do? Nefarian: Did you try kicking him? Valkyrie: Yes. Nefarian: I’m out of ideas.

[louisisalarrie]

They way he’s called it ‘for every question why’ makes it seem like it’s about the fan and they’re his because ngl

yeah I think you can interpret this saying multiple ways. it’s definitely about the fans and his solo career, but also I think it could be related to Harry. These lyrics are so damn powerful, and so I’ll let you in on my own little theory:

I think “for every question why” it could be interpreted as why the hell am I doing this? Why am I dealing with being closeted and stunting and the pain and heartache im going through?why do I bother fighting?

And “you were my because” is im doing this because of you, im doing this because every time I wanna give up on it all you’re right here with me, I don’t think I could get through this without you, im doing this for you, for us

Also “nothing makes you hurt like hurtin’ who you love” could be interpreted as even though im doing this for you, for us, it hurts me so bad to be stunting and hiding my love for you because im hurting you every time I have to do this

On top of that, “I watched them all come fallin down’ I watched them all come fallin’ down for you” Is pretty self explanatory in the way that I’ll only let that person in, and I keep my boundaries and walls up all the time because of my insecurities and I have had to since the beginning of 1d to protect myself

Then “so this one is a thank you, for what you did to me, why is it that thank yous are so often bittersweet?” could be thank you for sticking by me and coming into my life even though because of our love I’ve had to deal with so much shit from the people who don’t understand is

The “I just hope I seee you one day and you say to me, Oh oh…” is a tricky one, but I think could be interpreted as I hope one day you get why I did what I did, and you understand that I did this all to protect you no matter how hard and frustrating it is/was

Then “Nothing wakes you up like waking up alone” would be I miss you so much, we’re so far apart on tour and the forces that be are keeping us away from each other and I hate not waking up next to you, it makes me feel like it was all a dream sometimes

So yeah. There’s my very very basic song analysis on Walls, not even including the first verse lol but yeah. There’s a lot of depth to this song, it’s very good writing and I LOVE that lyric with my whole heart. Like… might get it tattooed kind of love.

Anyway, this song can also be interpreted to the breakup of 1d and his fans now too and I can also clearly see that. I’m not saying that it’s specifically about Harry and Harry only, but that’s just my take on it if we were to look at it that way. Songs are very personal and everyone will take lyrics differently from their own experiences and feelings so pls don’t fight me if you don’t agree with this hahahah, just adding a bit of larry thoughts to it

[whowantslovergirl]

Scotty doesn’t know

Fred Weasley x reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: kissing, cursing,lowkey smut 😱, not going to say minors DNI bc ik yall going to read it anyway, blasphemy only once, Scotty is an ASS in this, he is also in Ravenclaw 💙, cheating, modern au so regular high school, fiona = Y/N, cursing, very suggestive lyrics, fighting, and i think that’s it hope you enjoy my lovers 🤍 ^ <——— this means start the song 💋 harry potter masterlist

Summary: Y/N cheating on her boyfriend Scotty with the schools prankster

posted: April 21,2023

Scotty and Y/N look like the perfect couple. They literally won ‘best couple’ in the yearbook. Everyone thought that they were perfect for each other .

But no one knew what actually went on behind closed doors.

Scotty is toxic as fuck.

Always asked where are you going.

“Where the hell are you going at 8:00?”

Made you change if he wasn’t comfortable with what you were wearing.

“Isn’t guys going to be there? You’re not going anywhere dressed like that.”

Always interrogated your friends.

“So what are you guys doing tonight?”

All your friends tell you that he’s an insecure fuck but you never listen.

You tried to break up with him several times but he always played the ‘I’ll be better’ card and you fell for it.

Every single time.

You fell out of love a long time ago.

So you just found a side. And that ‘side’ was

Fred fucking Weasley. ^

Scotty doesn't know that Fiona and me

Do it in my van every Sunday

She tells him she's in church but she doesn't go

Still she's on her knees and Scotty doesn't know

Oh, Scotty doesn't know

Scotty was walking around school looking for you.

“Have you seen Y/N?”

“Have you seen Y/N?”

He finally found you and ran up to you. “Hey Y/N!” You turn around and before you can respond Scotty’s lips are already on you. He pulled away and it took everything in your power to not wipe your lips. “Hey babe!” You can not believe how fake you sounded. “Hey! So I was wondering if you wanted to hang out Sunday?” You pretended to have fake sadness. “Scotty you know I have church every Sunday.”

“Oh yeah! My bad baby, I forgot.” You just shook your head. “It’s fine. We can hang out Saturday if you want.” He nodded and kissed you again and walked off.

Little does he know.

_____

“Oh fuck. Right there darling. Keep going just like that.” He threw his head back into the seat. You smiled knowing that you were the reason he has this reaction. You grab his balls firmly and he moans even louder.

Thank god you guys are in an empty parking lot.

You can feel him about to cum. You go even faster if that’s possible, he finally burst in your mouth. You swallowed and went up to kiss him and he tasted himself. He moaned into your mouth. He finally pulled away and put his jeans back on.

“So how long until ‘church’ is over darling?” He asked putting air quotes on church. You gave a small laugh. “One more hour.” You say biting your lip. He gave his signature smirk. “Well let’s go pray.” He took your hand to the back of the car.

You probably traumatized the little kids who were walking by to see a shaking car.

So don't tell Scotty

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

(So don't tell Scotty)

“Scotty doesn’t know!” Fred’s twin exclaimed. “Why would he know dumbass?” George just shrugged. He sneaked a glance at you from across the cafeteria. You winked and went to the bathroom. Fred and George saw this. “Well that’s my cue. Bye Georgie.”

“You’re disgusting!”

Fiona says she's out shopping

But she's under me

And I'm not stopping

“Sorry I’m going shopping later. I need clothes for this trip I’m taking sorry baby.” Scotty asked you if you wanted hang out later and you obviously can’t since you promised a certain ginger that you can hang out tonight.

“You’ve been really busy lately.” Scotty said with a questioning tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing it’s just that if you don’t wanna hang out just say that don’t make bullshit excuses.” You don’t even want to talk about this right now.

“I’m not doing this with you right now. I gotta go bye Scotty.”

“Bye Y/N”

_____

Your nails scratched his back, him moaning even louder.

Very convinced that he has a pain kink.

“Oh my god Fred!”

“You feel so good darling.” He throws his head back and you arch your back.

“I’m so close, go faster Freddie.” You whisper as he puts his head in your shoulder.

And he went faster.

You feel the knot in you burst and you can feel his warmth inside you. He slips out with a soft hiss.

You turn on your side. He’s so beautiful, all sweaty and tired. His hair slightly covering his forehead.

“You’re so pretty Freddie.” He smiled and turns on his side. His hand goes to your face, taking your hair out of your face.

“Thank you but you’re much more pretty darling.”

You smile and silence fills the air.

“Break up with him”

Oh shit.

'Cause Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

So don't tell Scotty

Scotty doesn't know

Don't tell Scotty

You’re in class and you can see Fred in the corner writing something and sending it your way.

“Y/N here. It’s from Fred.”

Scotty heard that.

“Why is Fred Weasley sending you notes?” He whispered yelled from next you. You just shrug.

You’re so getting him for this.

You raise your hand.

“Yes Ms. L/N?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?” Professor Snape nods and you rush to the bathroom.

_____

You read the note.

‘Meet at the courtyard at 10:30.

-Freddie ;)’

You smile and go back to class.

_____

“Hey Freddie.” He turns around and a smile coats his face. His dimples showing.

“Hey darling, about the thing I said, I meant it. I can treat you way better than he can. Just leave him please.

You feel really bad about what you’re going to say.

“I can’t Fred. I just can’t. Let’s just continue what we’re doing okay?”

It’s not that you don’t believe Fred it’s just that you don’t how Scotty is going to react if he finds out you’ve been fucking someone behind his back for a whole year.

You can tell he is heartbroken that you wanna continue this but he does nod sadly because he wants you to be happy.

I can't believe he's so trusting

While I'm right behind you thrusting

You grab the headboard to stop you from falling face first into the bed. You don’t know who got Fred so angry but you want angry more often.

Then your phone started to ring.

“Oh my god! It’s Scotty! Fred stop.”

He kept going.

“Answer the phone darling just be quiet.”

Fiona's got him on the phone

And she's trying not to moan

It's a three-way call and he knows nothing, nothing

“Hey Baby!” You bite your lip trying not to moan. “Hey Scotty! Not to be mean but why are you calling?!”

“Why do you sound like that?” Fred stifled a laugh thinking this shit was funny. You look back and he’s biting back a laugh.

“Scotty I’m kinda busy right now.”

“Ok baby call me when you’re done I. love you.”

“Uh huh yea bye.”

Scotty obviously thought your behavior was weird and he was definitely confronting you about it tomorrow.

You don’t care, you’re getting your back blown by someone who can actually make you cum.

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

So don't tell Scotty

You’re in the courtyard with Angelina. You obviously knew Fred’s and Angie’s history but he always assured you that you were the only one.

As you were talking you see in the corner of your eye Scotty is speed walking towards you two.

“Hey Scotty. What’s wrong?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You grab his hand and walked to an empty classroom. You didn’t even have time to close the door.

“Are you fucking Fred Weasley Y/N?!” Your eyes widened.

“Excuse me?!”

'Cause Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

So don't tell Scotty

“What got you to that bullshit conclusion?!” Even if it is true you’re still shocked that he would accuse you of this.

“The notes? And don’t think I don’t see you two eye fucking each other every chance you get!”

Even though he treats you like shit. You’re surprised that he is so effected by this.

“Just tell me now Y/N. How long?”

You stay silent. You roll your eyes.

“We never did anything Scotty!”

“Is that what you were doing when I called you the other day? You were getting fucked! It was a three way call! Wow Y/N I thought you were better than this!”

“I can’t believe you’re accusing me of such bullshit! I would never do that to you. We’ve been dating for almost three years and you think I would throw all that shit away!”

He just stayed there. Then walked out pushing your shoulder in the process.

You had a feeling shit was going to hit the fan.

We'll put on a show

Everyone will go

“Weasley!” Scotty yelled.

Fred was walking with George when he heard his name. He turned around to see a pissed off Scotty aka your boyfriend.

Oh shit.

“Yes Scotty?”

“Are you fucking my girl?”

He put a pretend confused look on his face.

“And why would I do that?” He had a condescending tone. With a smile on his face.

“I don’t care for your tone Weasley and I know your bitch ass fucked her!” He pushed him so hard Fred almost fell down.

You walked to where the yelling was coming from and see a small crowd around Scotty and Fred.

Everyone can see in Fred’s face that he wanted to beat his ass but he saw you so he didn’t.

Just walked away.

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

“Why didn’t you punch him Freddie?” You were in his dorm. You were laying on his chest and he was drawing shapes on your back. You love the moments when it’s no sex just love and admiration for each other.

“I just saw your face and I didn’t want you to see me differently. You never saw me angry let alone fight anyone and I didn’t want to change your view of me.” You smile at his mini confession that he cares about what you think of him.

“Ok just know nothing will change how I feel about you Freddie.”

“Me too darling.”

The parkin' lot, why not?

It's so cool when you're on top

“Oh god, keep going like that darling.” You throw your head back and arch your back. He starts to suck on your nipple, switching every now and then.

This made you stutter your hips.

“Fuck Freddie!” You came all over him. He went two seconds after.

“God! it’s so cool when you’re on top.” You just laugh.

His front lawn in the snow

Life is so hard 'cause Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

You had no idea how you were swayed into fucking on Scotty’s front lawn during Christmas break.

“Fred if he walks out we’re dead.” He shushed you and kept going.

“He deserves this anyway Y/N.”

I did her on his birthday

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday dear Scotty

Happy birthday to you

Everyone in the courtyard turned to your singing. Which isn’t that bad. Tolerable.

“Happy Birthday Scotty!” You yelled with several presents in your hands.

You might hate the guy but everyone deserves presents on their birthday.

“Thank you baby.” He gave you a peck.

Fred saw this bullshit and walked out the courtyard.

_____

“Fred we can’t do this on his birthday! That’s like having sex at a funeral!” You whispered yelled as he tried to unbutton your blouse. You two were in a storage closet together. Nothing but a little light on.

“Come on please?” He has that one look that always made you fold on his face.

“Ok.” He smiled and went to his knees.

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

So don't tell Scotty

“So are y’all ever planning on telling him?” Fred turned to George. “Only if she wants too.”

“I don’t know how y’all do it. Especially you, I mean you had a major crush on her ever since they got together.”

“Ok Georgie you don’t have to say all that.”

Little did they know you were right behind the door.

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty will know

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty's gotta know

“I mean he already had speculations about you two. But I don’t think he would like that you confirmed his speculations Freddie.” Fred asked George if it’s a good idea to tell Scotty without your permission.

Which is bad but he really wanted this sneaking around shit to be over.

I'm gonna tell Scotty

Gonna tell him myself

“Ima tell him. I don’t care I’m tired of this shit.”

“Wait Fred that’s not a good ide-!”

Fred was already out the door.

_____

“Hey Scotty!”

He turned around and had a ‘the fuck are doing here?’ look.

“I just wanted to-.” He stopped himself, thinking of how you would react and he didn’t want you upset.

“What Weasley?”

“Nothing just you shouldn’t accuse people of shit if you don’t have any evidence.”

Fuck.

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

“You didn’t tell him?! What happened to ‘i don’t care I’m tired of this shit’ .

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t sound like that. I just thought about the consequences and didn’t do it.”

“I can not believe that Fred Weasley is whipped. Pussy whipped at that!”

“Shut up George!”

Scotty has to

Scotty has to

Scotty has to go

“Hey darling. What’s up?”

You knocked on his door and started crying.

“Hey! Hey! What’s wrong?!”

“I wanna be with you Freddie.”

He felt the whole world stop. You want him not Scotty. This is the happiest day of his life.

“I didn’t do it yet but Scotty has to go.”

He loves you.

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

(So don't tell Scotty)

Today is the day you are going to break up with Scotty for good this time.

You all around the school for him and finally see him talking with his friends.

“Hey Scotty! Can we talk?”

He nodded skeptically and you took his hand to an empty classroom.

“We need to break up.”

“What the fuck?!”

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

(So don't tell Scotty)

“I need to put me first you know? And you can’t do any bullshit excuses or the gifts. Nothing! I mean nothing will get me back to you ok? So bye and we can’t be friends after this.” You just left him speechless.

You feel so fucking free.

Scotty doesn't know

Scotty’s gotta go!

“Freddie I did it! I broke up with him! I can be with you now!” You were jumping up and down in his room. He just has the most ecstatic smile on his face. He grabbed you and smashed his lips on yours.

What a fucked up love story.

That is so bad! So bad

An: hope y’all enjoy this 😍😍 this was a long one and I love it sooo until I post again my lovers 🤍 (hint: pope and Maybank reader)

[blouisparadise]

Today we have a second part to our royalty rec list for you! If you’d like to check out the first part, you can find it here. We hope you enjoy these amazing fics! If you do, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Addressed To The Fire | Explicit | 9085 words

“Would you have come,” Harry says after a few seconds, voice levelled. A part of Louis wants him to snap — wants him to be the first one to raise his voice, because if there’s one thing he will never, ever do, is give anyone the satisfaction of saying he’s the one that starts the fights, “if I had invited you?”

No, Louis’ mind replies immediately, I wouldn’t have.

2) Falling Down For You | Explicit | 14750 words

If there was an alpha that Louis wanted to call his, it would be Harry. But what happens when an arranged marriage, a hungry press, and doubts get in the way?

3) Lean On My Shoulder (I See Myself With You) | Explicit | 19540 words

Speaking of the views, there was someone on his balcony. The sun was still setting, making this person look even more ethereal. They seemed to be at content at being alone. Harry watched as they watered the plants, they certainly didn't look like they were amongst the help.

Curiosity got the best of him and he decided to invade this stranger's quiet time; the Prince could be selfish sometimes.

4) Promise Me You Won't Run Away | Explicit | 23128 words

“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.

“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”

“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.

“Come distract me, then.”

5) (Summer Is Over) And I Wanna Leave You Satisfied | Explicit | 25031 words

On the very last night of his summer break in London, Louis Tomlinson hooks up with a hot guy. When he gets back home, his roommates tell him that they're going to be getting a new roommate. Said roommate? The same hot guy he hooked up with back in London: Harry Styles, who's looking for a quiet place to go to school and just wants to keep his head down. Funny how he keeps getting noticed, though....

6) What Our Souls Were Meant To Do | Mature | 34106 words

All Harry’s father wants is for his son to marry as soon as possible and give their family another heir. All Harry wants to do is fall in love.

7) Now I Think That I Could Love You Back | Explicit | 42255 words

“I do not care if she banishes me to my chambers for a month or the rest of the year, you two must see reason,” Louis protests, feeling a minor fit coming on. “He is nothing but an insufferable, cocky, cloddish, pitiful excuse for an Alpha, and he deserves to live the rest of his days in solitary, not me.”

“My, my, what an array of abuse. I surely would loath to be this inadequate excuse of an Alpha you speak of, but alas I cannot relate to possessing such deficiency,” a honey-glazed voice drips out from behind Louis, and the omega can feel the steam pouring over, ready to burst out of his already flushed ears.

8) Don’t Want No Other Shade Of Blue | Explicit | 43230 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

“I know you’re putting on an act,” says Harry after a moment, and Louis scowls when he realises the prince is actually amused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Louis.

“All I’ve heard over the past couple of years are rumours of Prince Louis’ kindness, and generosity, and oh, he’s so handsome I can barely pour his tea without shaking!” says Harry, putting on a silly, high-pitched voice for the last bit. Louis’ scowl deepens. “I would already know if you were just another selfish, bratty omega prince. You can’t fool me, darling, but I admire your efforts.”

“As you said,” Louis grits out, “those are only rumours. I assure you, I’m a terrible person.”

9) The Fairy Ring | Explicit | 46170 words

A medieval fantasy AU in which Harry is a prince in disguise and Louis is the king of the faeries.

10) Tastes Like Summer, Smiles Like May | Explicit | 47519 words

A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.

11) Untamed Hearts Align | Explicit | 55795 words

For as long as Louis has known her, Lady Margaret Tomlinson has had two aspirations for the remaining years of her life. The first was to out-dress the Duchess of Kent at every soirée and gathering. The second was to marry off her omega nephew to the most honorable – and highly ranked – alpha suitor she could find.

He does not expect for her to arrange a marriage between him and the crown prince, and he certainly does not expect to fall for him.

Everything changes when Harry disappears.

12) Let Your Damage, Damage Me | Explicit | 57077 words

A low and dangerous growl was ripped from the future King’s chest.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the alpha snarled, eyes dark and nostrils flared.

Even as anger rushed through him at the alpha’s brutish display, Louis felt breathless at the intense gaze of the man that was going to be his future mate.

‘Tomorrow I’m going to be under all that. He will be inside me, all muscles and rage.’ Louis felt his cheeks heat again, but refused to be cowed. So he put his best smirk on display, the one alphas despised to see, the one that assured them all he had the upper hand.

“Thought you were expecting me, dear husband. I’m your future mate.”

13) I’ve Got You | Explicit | 62988 words

As a reward for saving the king’s life, Harry is offered omega Prince Louis’ hand in marriage. Neither of them has any interest in the union going forward, and so they concoct a plan to prove to the king that they are far from a perfect match.

14) These Still Waters Run Deep | Explicit | 64602 words

Having accepted his engagement to Viscount Andrew, Louis is aware that it isn’t a love match and has no wish to be swept off his feet… until he meets the viscount’s brother, Harry, who makes him second-guess everything.

15) Where They Glow | Explicit | 70519 words

A Tangled AU where Louis dreams, Harry runs, and the sun prince has been missing for almost nineteen years.

16) Violent Delights | Not Rated | 76174 words

Prince Harry is arranged to mate Princess Charlotte, but first he must spend a month completing courting traditions which ends in a mating ceremony. When he arrives to the Tomlinson castle, he finds the forbidden North wing holds that which the family has worked hard to keep secret. Mainly: the sickly sweet Prince Louis, who’s rare gender has forced his family to keep him locked away for his own protection.

17) Bless the Day Our Heartbeats Aligned | Explicit | 97454 words

The one where after years of being gone, Knight Harry returns to his best friend only to find out that Louis is betrothed to another.

18) Like Water Over Fire (Like Water On Fire) | Mature | 119264 words

Prince Harry has 46 men and 13 weeks to find the husband of his dreams, Louis has a limited amount to time to live out a royal fantasy. They might just be exactly what the other needs.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[munson-blurbs]

TUI 6

HARRIS metal head MUNSON!🤘🏼😝

“He eagerly scans the board for Harris’s, frowning when he can’t find his name. Maybe it’s still drying, he tries to convince himself, imagining his son over-saturating the paper with globs of paint. It wouldn’t be entirely out of character.”

*me* I KNOW THIS BITCH MARION DID NOT HURT MY (he’s mine now, I’m taking full custody😂) BABY LIKE THAT!!!

“Wanna show me where your artwork is? I must be gettin’ old, because I couldn’t find it on the board out there.” “‘S not there,” ( 😤) Harris mumbles, scratching off a flaking piece of the Rosita tattoo on the back of his hand. “I didn’t get to finish.”

Ms. Sweetheart to the rescue💕

Eddie stealing Harris’s Peanut M&M’s.

All of the people have a small space between them, except for you and Eddie. The circle that Harris drew to represent your left hand overlaps with the circle that is Eddie’s right.  😭😭😭

“THANK YOUUUUUUU!” “Love the enthusiasm,”. <- How I talk to my littles when they get hype about something LOL

“Are, um, are Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart holding hands?” “Mhm,” Harris casually confirms, taking the drawing back. “‘Cause they’re married.” Eddie chokes on air as Wayne does a double-take. “Congrats, Ed,” he jokes, clapping a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Gotta say, I thought I’d at least get an invite.” Good ol’ Wayne Munson coming in with the jokes 😂

“Did I talk about her in my sleep? Oh, shit, what if it was when I had that dream—“ 😩 EDWARD TELL US SAID DREAM.

“Lowering his voice to a whisper, he speaks directly to his drawing. “When Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love and get married, I’ll finally have a mommy.” He presses his hand flat against the paper as though he’s sealing in the wish.” Baby boy manifesting. 😩✨

“Hey, Har, is Ms. Sweetheart pretty?” Mac Daddy Wayne strikes again.

Ms. Sweethearts memories of Halloween with grandma. 😔

He gives her the M&M’s 🥹

“But, yeah, I was hoping you’d accept these as part of my apology. Or apologies, I guess. For, uh, for not calling when I said I would, and all of the awful shi—awful things I said to you.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he steps closer and says, “I am so fucking sorry.” 😩

Fun size mistake=fun size bag of candy. Family size mistake=family size bag of candy. I’m really good at fucking things up, but really bad at fixing them. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to hurt you, but we both know that I did. You don’t have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am.  *SCREAMING*

He said OUR favorite little Axl Rose. 🥹

BUG!!! This was too good!!! The fluff? The feelings!? HARRIS WANTING MS. SWEETHEART TO BE HIS MOMMY!?!? WAYNE TEASING EDDIE ABOUT A CRUSH HE KNOWS HE HAS?!?! I’m obsessed with them, all of them, I need them to all live happily ever after ASAP. (Or whenever you’re ready, that works too. 😂) I love this story so much. Thank you for bringing this ✨MASTERPIECE✨ to life. 💗 I LOVE YOU.

B, the way that I looked forward to this ask!

Harris is the cutest little rockstar, and he wants to be just like his dad. You may have to fight @corroded-hellfire for custody of him, though.

Eddie is not stealing; he is making sure Harris doesn't choke! What a doting father!!

Ms. Sweetheart's memories of her grandma are based on mine, by the way. Grandma Bug used to do that for me and my sister, and I had to include it in the story.

Will Ms. Sweetheart be Harris's mommy one day??? Who knows????? Maybe she will, maybe she'll up and leave town in chapter 10.

And once again, your meme game is 100% on point. Love you 5ever xoxoxoxoxo

[ma-lark-ey]

Lark Liveblogs Literature episode 3: Six of Crows duology

As we did with Harry Potter, Shadow & Bone Trilogy, and will be doing with The Mortal Instruments when I get back around to them I am liveblogging my reactions to Six of Crows.

What I know prior:

- We’ve got a guy named Kaz, he’s got a cane. My younger sister tells me I’ll adore him so I trust her judgement.

- There’s also a guy named Jesper, who one of my mates stole the name from for a water genasi. He’s queer??

- we also have someone named Wylen. My sister loves him a lot and tells me I will also love him though I am sceptical.

1.) Six of Crows (5/4/23— 10/4/23)

(8/10)

Right off the bat, I really love Inej! Her perspective is really lovely and her affection (/p) for Kaz is very clear from the get-go. It’s so juicy to meet our main protagonist from the perspective of an admirer and NOT themself. I’m obsessed with that.

I’m very respectfully in love with Kaz and did not say I’d makeout with him in the groupchat in front of god and everyone. No, sir. I am the most normal about Kaz Brekker.

Moving on from my goof, I really love Kaz just as a character. Having a disabled protagonist, much less one that’s Top Dog and very clearly feared and respected by his peers is SO GOOD. And quite honestly I think he’s the first disabled protag I’ve seen that wasn’t like, pity porn or magically nullified (at least in books. Love you Toph of Avatar fame). So if anyone has good reccs of other disabled protag books, drop ‘em. I’d love to read more.

OH I LIED ACTUALLY I READ STORMRUNNER!! I just didn’t get a chance to finish that series entirely so sorry I forgot about that. Love him SO MUCH. he and Kaz are my besties.

Inej 💖💖💖

Thats all.

Also the Banter!!! I’m not even a hundred pages in but the banter in Six of Crows is SO much better than Shadow & Bone. Bardugo has really grown as an author between these two series and it shows. The characters feel much more solid in this. Whereas Shadow & Bone’s characters (minus like, Alina, Nikolai, and Mal) felt extremely 2D at times (in my opinion) and I can see layers to Jesper, Inej, and Kaz right off the bat.

MATTHIAS H E L L O TOXIC MAN OF THE WEEK. im going to eat him.

My sister is fighting for her LIFE defending Matthias but I. THIS MAN IS A CONVICTED SLAVE TRAFFICKER??? SHE SAID ITS NOT HIS FAULT. girl. Get help.

Forgot to update this. Kaz is SOOOOO downbad. He’s DOWNBAD. just kiss her idiot. IDIOT. Wylan is funny, I wanna flick him on the forehead and ruffle his hair. He’s so goofy.

I’m not fully convinced Jesper ISN’T in love with Kaz.

THIS FIREPOX FLASHBACK IS A SPECIAL KIND OF FUCKED UP !!! “Together, they drifted, Jodie’s distended body acting as a raft.” Kaz…..

PIECED TOGETHER WHY KAZ HAYES TOUCH IM LITERALLY GOING TO CRY

EVERYONE IN THIS BOOK DOWN BAD FOR EACH OTHER!!! LOVE HEXAGON FR.

The Jylan Wesper whatever the fuck this shipname is development is literally such a tone change from Kaz I’m LAUGHING.

Kaz: This is how my brother died, audience.

Jesper, boutta catch himself a twink: cowabummer.

Nina. Nina you’re better than this. Nina how could you get the alarm sounded. NINA.

Okay debriefing after part five. I’m so. So. So.

Kaz and Inej better kiss. Jesper stop flirting you are about to die. Matthias I almost killed you alive. I wanted to burn you at the stake fr. Nina you’re a queen. You’re theiving. Kaz dont die so you can admit emotional vulnerability for the first time ever. Jesper so proud of you for overcoming tour cringe crush on Kaz. Hurry ip and makeout with Wylan this tension is PAINFUL.

THE ENDING THE ENDING THE ENDING SHSBSBSBSB THATS SO MUCH IM GOING TO EAT WYLAN I LOVE HIM. BOY OF ALL TIME. ILL MAKE OUT WITH YOU.

2.) Crooked Kingdom (13/4/23-17/4/23)

(9/10)

Listen. Okay. My Tumblr was glitched out for the first half of this book so I couldnt say anything but I can NOW.

All of this is WILD.

Kaz Brekker, you are stupid and dumb and I NEED you to be honest about your emotions for ONCE. i swear to GOD you pathetic little WORM.

Wylan’s mother what the HELL. what is HAPPENING. This is so fucked up I hope Jan Van Eck gets his life fucking destroyed by Kaz fuck him UP.

Kuwei i love and hate you so much you cheeky fuck that was so sly but also how fucking dare you do Jesper like that. Little shit. You’ve been too heavily influenced by these deceitful little canal rats.

Wylan babygirl I love you. I’ll kill you if you ACTUALLY spilled to your dad. Honestly thank god Kaz barely tells you anything. I love you. Rot in hell for this one.

STURMHOND 💓💓💓 NIKOLAI LANTSOV 💖💞🖤💚💞 I DIDNT EXPECT TO SEE YOU IM SO HAPPY YOURE HERE I MISSED YOU BESTIE MWAH MWAH MWAH MWAH IM SUCH A NIKOLAI GIRLIE YOU GUYS.

Oh update on Matthias I’m neutral on him now. Sorry for my Matthias slander earlier. I do still have beef.

Everytime a plot twist happens in this book its like “YES. MICHAEL. what do you want now? More money? A check? My SOUL?”

Okay Wylan. Sorry I cussed you out so bad. You’re good. We’re friends again

MATTHIAS DIES????

Wild ride through and through. Obsessed with this. I would’ve liked to see more of Inej’s closure than we did— but I’m not mad at it. I think Pekka being the closing chapter was. I dont know. I have neutral feelings on the Pekka chapter.

I do think I like Crooked Kingdom more than Crows? I really liked it a lot !! And. I will be honest with myself and admit its because of the Sturmhond content. I know myself. I can admit when I am foaming at the mouth over my #1 bestie babe of all time Nikolai Lantsov.

That’s. All. I suppose?

Really did enjoy it !! If you have a fic where we see more of Inej and her family reuniting. Drop it. Or recs in general. I need more recs. I dont know the tag culture of this fandom yet <<3 scary <<3

Next series: All For the Game, Nora Sakavic.

Bonus:

Here’s my ranking of the Crows, btw. I love them all but some. Significantly more than others not sorry.

1. Wylan Hendricks

2. Inej Ghafa

3. Kaz Brekker

4. Jesper Fahey

5. Nina Zenik

6. Matthia Helvar

I dont know if this is a hot take or not. I just. <<3 Wylan and Inej <<3

[freedomfireflies]

Teach Me*

Summary: Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?

You.

Word Count: 5.4k

“...I’m sorry, you need to what?”

“I need…” Harry repeats, “...to eat you out.”

You blink at the man standing alarmingly still in the hallway outside of your door. “Is it crack? Is that what you smoke? Do you smoke crack?”

He smirks at the familiar joke before he’s brushing past you and striding into your apartment. “All right, fine. I just thought I’d ask.”

“Ask what?” you huff as you shut the door and face him. “I still don’t understand what it is you want.”

“I want to eat you out,” he says yet again as your expression falls flat. “Look I need…the practice.”

“Practice…”

“Practice.” He nods before flopping down onto the sofa. “You remember Tina, right?”

“Tall, hot, and out of your league?” you recall as you walk over to him. “Yes, I remember.”

He fights a smile. “Yeah, well…she agreed to let me take her out and I just…I want to make sure I’m prepared.”

“...prepared.”

“Prepared.” His eyes follow you as you take a seat beside him. “Come on, you know I don’t have a lot of experience with that shit, and I want to make sure I’m…you know, at least capable of making her come. And I have no other way to get…better.”

“Oh, so, naturally I’m your second-best option,” you snort playfully as you pull your knees to your chest. “But how would eating me out help you make her come? Not all girls like the same stuff, you know. Lesson number one.”

“Because I need someone to help me make my technique a little…smoother, I guess. Tell me what feels good and what doesn’t so I know,” he explains, without a hint of embarrassment, and truthfully, you’re a little impressed.

Harry has always been…bold, you would say. Assertive, confident, borderline egotistical. He’s never had a problem making friends or getting a girlfriend, so learning that his sexual experience didn’t expand as far as you thought it did was kind of a surprise.

You do admire him for wanting to be good for her. In fact, the thought is almost sweet, although you have no idea where he got the idea to ask you.

Sure, you’re his best friend, but…that’s kind of fucking…weird. Right? You guys don’t do that. You don’t even like to hug.

You run your tongue over your bottom lip and look for the deception within his expression. He could be messing with you. It wouldn’t be the first time and you certainly wouldn’t put it past him.

But there’s something…earnest in the way he speaks. In the way his eyes hold onto yours as he awaits your response, hopeful and desperate.

“So…wait, hold on.” You clear your throat and straighten up. “You…you honestly want…to eat me out…just to see if I like it?”

“Kind of, yeah,” he agrees as one shoulder bobs up in a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve got a few ideas on what to do, I just…I need someone—I need you—to tell me if it feels good or not. So I can practice and make sure she’ll like it.”

Your teeth begin to absentmindedly knaw on the inside of your cheek. Truthfully, you have no idea how to feel about this. The request is outrageous and weird and it goes way past the duties of friendship.

But you’ve known him forever and you trust him and honestly? You feel a little bad for the guy.

Sure, the best way for him to get the practice he needs would be with her, but you know him. He doesn’t like to admit he doesn’t know something and he absolutely despises feeling unprepared. 

He’s a perfectionist.

And you are a little flattered that he feels safe enough with you to showcase his inexperience and that thought alone begins to wash your reservations away.

“So…all I’d have to do is just…sit here? And tell you yes or no?” you clarify, and he nods.

“Yeah. I won’t make you come, don’t worry. I know that’s…going a little farther than we need,” he says. “I just…wanna play with you a little.”

You smirk. “Wouldn’t not making me come defeat the purpose?”

He exhales a laugh as he leans back. “I just want to make sure I can. Besides, doesn’t it open up a bunch of emotions and shit? It attaches you to the person? I mean, do you really wanna live with the knowledge that you came because of me?”

“...no,” you admit. “Okay, that’s fair. So…if I agree…you’re not gonna drag this out, right? Just to annoy me?”

He chuckles again. “Well, I wanna make sure I’m doing it right…but no, I won’t drag it past that. I’ll stop whenever you want.”

Your fingers pull at a loose strand on your jeans. You aren’t seriously considering this, are you? “And if I say yes…how would we…I mean, what would we do?”

He thinks about this for only a moment, suggesting that he already came with a plan. Typical. “I guess we go somewhere you feel comfortable…we start slow. You tell me what you’re okay with, what you’re not okay with…and then I’ll just…get started.”

You look at him. Really look at him. He’s relaxed. Almost too relaxed considering the line he’s suggesting you both cross. A line you can never uncross.

And as you stare at those familiar features you’ve known for years…you feel your body exhale a deep breath. You’re doubtful, sure…but he’s always been rather exceptional at providing you comfort, just through a look alone.

Exactly like he is now.

His mouth quirks up in a smirk as he bumps his knuckles against your knee teasingly. “We don’t have to, Bee. I just…thought I’d ask.”

You roll your lips into your mouth as you hesitate, the familiar nickname calming you ever-so-slightly. “I didn’t…I’m not saying no, I just…I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“I know,” he agrees with a nod. “Look, just…forget I said anything. I’ll Google it, it’s fine. Let’s just watch Schitt’s Creek or something, yeah?”

With that, he turns toward the TV, grabs the remote, and begins to flip through the channels, leaving the conversation behind.

But you aren’t as quick to let the idea go. After all, he planted the seed, and now you’re starting to wonder. You’re starting to…accept.

Maybe things will be weird. And maybe you won’t be able to go back to how you used to be. But at least you’ll have helped him…? And that’s…something that friends do.

…right?

“I have never heard someone say so many wrong things…one after the other…consecutively…in a row,” David says to your right as Harry smiles and glances over to see if you’re listening.

But you’re not.

At least, not to David.

“Okay,” you murmur, quiet enough that it becomes lost beneath the next line on the show.

Harry, confused, raises a brow and begins to lower the volume. “Sorry, what?”

“Okay,” you repeat, a little more confidently than you had before. “Okay, I agree to your proposal. Just this once.”

He blinks. “Wait, seriously?”

“Seriously.” You nod. “What? Don’t look at me like that, I’m charitable. And cool, and a really good friend. So…don’t forget that the next time I ask you to buy the popcorn at the movie.”

His eyes roll but he laughs as he tosses the remote aside. “All right, that’s fair. Deal.”

You both go quiet.

Funny…for some reason, you thought agreeing would be all there was to it.

His eyes soften as he looks you over. “So…you’re in charge, okay? You just…tell me where you wanna go, what you’re comfortable with…whatever you want, yeah?”

You nod faintly before glancing toward your room. “Um…I guess we can do it on the bed. There’s probably more room, so it would be a little easier…I guess.”

He nods, too, before slowly moving for the edge of the couch. But he doesn’t stand until you do, eyeing you closely as if gauging your reaction.

You aren’t sure why you feel so…timid. You’re not exactly nervous, maybe just…apprehensive. But, it’s Harry, and he will always be the boy that got a blueberry stuck up his nose and snorted purple snot to you.

And it can’t get more embarrassing than that. 

He follows you into the bedroom. The same bedroom he’s seen a million times, although now, it’s like a completely different space.

With an awkward clear of your throat, you take a seat on the corner of the mattress, head tilting back as you look up at him expectantly. “Uh…now what?”

“You tell me,” he says softly, hands finding refuge in his pockets. “Where do you wanna be? Against the pillows? Might be more comfortable.”

You glance over your shoulder at the headboard. “Yeah, I guess that’s…a good idea.”

He smiles again, stepping back to allow you the room to crawl back. 

Once you’re in position and settled, he takes your spot on the edge of the bed. “Still good?”

You nod, arms resting atop your stomach, almost as if to hide yourself. “Yup.”

“Do you wanna pick a safeword?”

Your brows raise. “I mean…I think ‘stop’ will do just fine.”

He snorts his amusement. “Fair.”

Again, you both grow quiet, and you wish you could find your nerve. In the many years you two have known each other, not once have you ever been this shy. Or quiet. In fact, you don’t believe there’s ever been a second of silence between you, and you have no idea what to do with it.

He straightens up, taking the reins when he notices you don’t plan to. “Do you have your phone?”

Confused, you reach into your pocket and wiggle the cell phone free.

He nods. “Okay, I want you to pull up your favorite porn.”

Your lips part as you blink. “...I’m sorry, what now?”

"Well, I’m willing to bet you’re not exactly turned on right now, right?” he explains, nodding his chin at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “And I’m just thinking that might be a little harder to work with. For both of us.”

Unfortunately, he’s right. You’re about as dry as the Sahara desert, so you admit defeat and swipe up on your screen.

Now, while you and him have both exchanged some of your favorite videos before, pulling up one now…in front of him…feels like a whole new ballgame.

You quickly readjust the volume before looking for the ones you know normally do the trick, refusing to sneak a glance at the man now scooting a bit closer to you. 

But you do hear him smile. “Find it?”

Your eyes land on the familiar thumbnail you’ve seen a hundred times before as you whisper, “Yeah.”

“Good,” he hums, hands coming to rest near your outstretched legs. “Can I take your jeans off? Just your jeans.”

You peek out from around the screen of your phone, catching the curious but hopeful look on his face. “...sure.”

He nods his understanding before shifting closer so he can reach for your zipper to guide it down.

You debate watching him but choose instead to click play on the video and force your attention elsewhere. Maybe this will go smoother if you just…don’t look at him. 

Ever.

You feel the air hit your legs as his fingers curl around the fabric at your hips to pull it down. He’s deliberate, making sure he doesn’t accidentally graze something he’s not supposed to (ironically enough), but you appreciate the gesture. 

He gently tugs the material down to your ankles before effortlessly tossing it aside, and you feel yourself swallow.

This isn’t your first time, so you thought you’d know what to expect. But you don’t know what to expect from him. He seems to have a plan (thank God), and you catch the way he eyes your underwear before he glances up at you.

“Ready?” he murmurs, the cadence of his voice rather reassuring. “I’ll just play with you a bit for now, yeah?”

Again, you swallow thickly, forcing the nerves aside. “Yeah, go.”

And from that point on, you decide to proceed with a more clinical mindset. This is practice, exactly like he said. It doesn’t mean anything to either of you, and once it’s over, you doubt you’ll ever mention it again.

It’s just practice.

A cunt is a cunt, a tongue is a tongue, a hand is a hand. Doesn’t matter who they belong to. Pleasure is pleasure, and that’s all there is to it.

You return your attention to your phone as the bed dips, signaling that he’s getting himself into position. You wonder what he means when he says he wants to play with you, and you also wonder if he’ll actually be any good.

But before you can worry that you’ll have to tell him that he’s terrible…he touches you.

You feel his palm, gently smoothing up your right leg, slowly but with purpose. Your breath hitches as you blink at the images flashing across the screen in front of you. You have no idea if you’ll be able to get out of your own head long enough to feel turned on, but you don’t worry about it quite yet.

Then…you feel his thumb.

Your entire body goes still as the pad of his finger brushes down the front of your underwear, right over your clit. There’s just enough pressure to capture your attention but not so much that it feels uncomfortable.

Your chest deflates with a deep breath as you begin to move your focus from the porn to him.

He does it again, a little harder this time around. It’s teasing, almost. Exactly like he said it would be. He’s simply playing with your body and seeing how it reacts. And every time you twitch or your legs begin to tense, you hear him smile, as if making a mental note of it.

For a few minutes, this is all he does. He runs his fingers up and down the fabric in slow but teasing patterns, pressing and sometimes circling as you feel an ache begin to form.

The sounds coming from your phone are successful in urging your body to bend to such salacious intentions. You can feel your muscles unwind as your mind begins to release those doubtful premonitions.

With a flutter of your lashes, you move your phone to the side so you can get a glimpse of the boy between your legs.

He doesn’t seem to notice. Either that or he pretends not to. And for a moment, you aren’t sure what to make of the sight before you. Harry, your best friend, in a staring contest with your cunt and you want to be put off…but you’re not. 

“How’s that?” he murmurs after a moment, his other hand softly stroking the skin of your thigh as he pulls your legs further apart.

Your voice betrays you as you breathe, “Good.”

He looks up. Smiles. “Noted.”

He does it some more, thumbing over your clit before pressing into it and guiding it in a circle. You squirm each time, the faintest of whimpers getting stuck in the back of your throat. 

He seems proud, and you almost want to be annoyed, but you just don’t have the mental capacity to be in this moment.

Maybe when it’s over.

And then, he does something you hadn’t expected.

He dips down…and presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh. Not too close but not too far, and as he does, his eyes find yours.

Shit. “Okay, I’m ready,” you whisper quickly, hips subtly bucking up. “I’m…I think I’m good now.”

His brow raises as he drops his hand and you have to fight the urge to whine. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You chew on your bottom lip. “I mean, if you are.”

“I am,” he says, glancing back down at your waist. “Yeah, I am.”

So you nod, and anxiously await his next move.

He reaches again for your body, and you want to sigh with relief as he slips his fingers under the band of your underwear to peel it down. 

The cool air is rather chilling and it’s then that you’re made aware of the mess already forming between your thighs. You knew you’d begun to enjoy yourself but you’re surprised by just how much. 

Whether that was because of him or because of the video…you don’t exactly know.

Once the lace has been flicked to the side, he readjusts onto his knees and formulates a plan.

He makes you wait. Watch. Watch as he once again takes your legs in his hands to guide them apart and settle between them.

Watch as he outstretches his palm so he can run it along your hip before moving lower.

Watch as he takes his thumb and brings it back to your clit which is now exposed to his skin.

And the contact is sinful. You’re worked up enough that the immediate connection makes your head drop back, and while you’d like to be embarrassed…you just don’t care.

He drags it down. Down. Presses, rubs, and dips into the wetness that waits for him.

He’s concentrated, and the look on his face is rather adorable. He’s learning. Studying. Observing each and every reaction you offer him as he continues to tease you.

Once in a while, he’ll venture a glance up, perhaps for approval, and you’ll nod quickly. Then, he’ll return to the task at hand as he looks for new ways to make you gasp.

He slides the tip of his finger in without warning and when you whimper, he stills and raises his brow.

You can tell he was aiming for the element of surprise, choosing not to warn you in order to receive this very response, but he’s not sure if that was a sound of approval or unease, so you rush to clarify.

“No, it’s fine,” you mumble. “It’s fine, it’s good.”

“Are you su—”

“Yes, it’s good. Go.”

Encouraged, he pushes in. He’s still wary of your enjoyment but he seems to focus more on the movement of his hand than your expressions. And that’s all right with you. You’re happy to simply sit and…judge. Which is what he’s asked you to do, and you plan to uphold your end of the deal.

He stops when he’s reached his knuckle, finger curling slightly before he’s gently pulling back. He repeats the action a time or two more and the fullness that accompanies the stretch is quite enjoyable.

Your eyes move to the ceiling as you fight the urge to watch him. You’re not that comfortable yet and perhaps watching him would ruin the fun. So, for now, you stare at the white paint above you as he begins to pump his hand a bit faster.

When he adds a second finger, you gasp, and he uses this as leverage to expand his search.

And you know exactly what he’s looking for, the crease between his brows indicative of his captivation.

But just when you’re getting ready to offer some help, he drives in and curls up until the tips of his fingers brush against that particular point of ecstasy.

You inhale a sharp breath and writhe away, faintly panting, “Shit…that.”

Intrigued, he perks up, although he doesn’t relax his pace. “That?”

He does it again and your eyes squeeze shut. “Yeah…yeah, it’s…mhm.”

A smile dances across his lips as he scoots a little closer to watch his own hand as he repeats the action.

You begin to slump down the mattress, limbs turning to jello as he guides your body up toward that familiar ledge, and you hear him hum his approval.

“Good,” he murmurs, you assume in an attempt to soothe you. “Very good, m’proud of you. Seem to be doing really well.”

You stumble over a scoff. “Yeah, well…so are you.”

The grin grows. “Still doing okay?”

“Yes,” you whisper when his thumb ghosts over your clit. “Yeah, I…fuck. I’m…is this all you’re gonna do…then? I thought…I thought you wanted…to…with…the other…”

Nothing that comes out of your mouth is coherent but he seems to understand. “Yeah, I just wasn’t sure if you were ready.”

“I am,” you correct quickly. “I’m…yeah, I’m fine. You can…you’re good. Just do it.”

He dips his head down but doesn’t quite connect as he continues to watch you carefully. “Bee?”

“...wha—shit—what?”

“Thank you.”

Your eyes roll playfully, although perhaps that’s just from the pleasure. “Yeah, yeah, I’m…I’m a fucking saint. Just…fucking do it, okay?”

So…he does.

Those lips you used to stare at move down to your clit and he brushes his mouth over your body for just a moment before you see his tongue.

He takes a moment to decide exactly what he wants to do before he’s pressing that tongue into you and dragging it up from his hand.

You’re so wound up that it doesn’t take much more for you to arch off the bed in search of that feeling. He’s hardly done anything but your head is rolling back across the pillow as your fingers dig into the blanket beneath you.

He nips at you gently, continuing to pump your arousal in and out as it coats his hand, and your mind instantly falls completely blank.

The sounds…god, the sounds. The sound of you, the sound of him, the sound of your body falling apart beneath him.

He’s good. He’s very good, and you almost wonder if he was lying about his inexperience. There’s no way he learned this from porn…at least, you can’t see how. But, he is a perfectionist. Maybe it just comes naturally to him.

“Awfully quiet up there,” you hear him say, and the vibration of the deep tone of voice sparks a chill down your spine. “That bad?”

No! you want to scream but you simply shake your head. “It’s…it’s good. You’re…this is great. This is all…you know…standard…good…stuff.”

When he smiles, your cheeks grow hot. “Guess I have a good teacher.”

“Please,” you huff, pressing your palm to your forehead. “You always—god, always know what you’re doing. I had nothing to do with it.”

He shrugs as his eyes flick across the mess in front of him. “Had more to do with it than you think.”

He dives back in, licking a stripe up before driving his fingers in further. And there’s so much happening. So much that it makes you crazy. There’s him, and there’s you, and there’s that reminder of need that continues to grow. You can’t focus in on any one thing, and honestly...you’re okay with that. 

When he sucks you into his mouth, you have to fight the urge to grab onto him, twisting the duvet around your knuckles as you reel. 

“Don’t,” he mumbles, and you work to figure out what he’s referring to. Did you do something wrong? “Don’t grab the blanket. Grab me.”

You blink down at him. “I’m…no, it’s fine. I was just—”

“Bee, I’m not asking,” he interrupts, rather resolutely. “You wanna do it, so do it. Promise, I don’t mind.”

You certainly aren’t a stranger to this more…authoritative side of him. Although now, you might even…like it? At least, in this context.

“Come on,” he repeats, pulling back only to shoot you a stern look. “She will. And it’ll show me what you like. Don’t be a pussy, just do it. You won’t hurt me.”

And you almost want to fight him, but he’s right, and you can’t argue that. 

So, the moment he returns to his focused work, you reach for those chocolate brown curls and give them a nice tug.

He makes a noise of approval that nearly kills you, lapping at your folds like he’s depraved and you’re his only remedy.

Tina is gonna love it.

He finds a certain rhythm that you respond to well and zeros in. His cheeks hollow every time he sucks on you only to quickly pop off as he presses his tongue beside his fingers. 

Your nails scratch down his scalp and he seems to like it, his other hand grasping onto your thigh so hard you imagine it’ll bruise.

And for just a moment, you actually don’t mind. You concede to the satisfaction he’s offering and you indulge in it. You find gratification in the fact that you accepted and you even decide that maybe…this was a good idea.

“Are you close?” he asks once your whimpers scale up an octave.

You nod quickly. “Yes…yeah, I’m…yeah.”

“Good,” he muses proudly before he’s suddenly removing his hand from your body and pulling away.

You nearly disappear through the mattress as you choke on a dejected whine and look down at him. “What…what happened?”

He breathes out a laugh as he settles onto his knees. “Nothing, I’m just keeping my word.”

His word.

Right.

“You…oh,” you whisper, fighting your disappointment. “Yeah. Well…that was…you did good. That was all…you know, very well done. She’ll like it, you’ll be fine.”

He seems pleased with your approval before his eyes begin to narrow in thought. He watches you haphazardly reach for a throw blanket to cover yourself, but just as you’re getting ready to toss it over your legs, he snatches onto your wrist.

You both still as he studies you. “Bee?”

“...what?”

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “If there’s something you want to ask me…then ask me.”

You blink. “What…what do you mean?”

With his hold still on your arm, he leans closer. “Bee…we agreed, yeah? M’trying to be a good student, but I can’t be if you don’t tell me what you want.”

Your breath hitches the closer he gets. “Har, I don’t know what you’re—”

“Do you wanna come?”

Well…shit. “I…” You begin to shift nervously under his pointed stare. “I was just…”

His expression softens although there’s a hint of smugness swimming behind his smile. “Do you want me…to make you come?” he clarifies as your stomach twists into a knot.

Feigning exasperation, you huff a stray hair from your eye. “Well, what do you think? Obviously nobody likes being edged.”

He’s amused as he begins to lower back down, fingers still wrapped around your wrist. “Then what do you need to do?”

You huff again, shooting a quick glare his way as you watch him drop his gaze to your sensitive cunt. “Harry…come on.”

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head. “Nope, that’s not it.”

You open your mouth, a quippy remark locked and loaded, but right before you can use it…he puckers his lips and blows on your clit.

Your muscles recoil and your throat seems to close up as you pull against his hold. “You fucking asshole, you did that on purpose.”

“Obviously.” He tosses you a wink. “You wanna try again?”

No, I wanna kill you, you think but don’t say. “Harry…please.”

You briefly notice the way his eyelashes flutter at the sound of his name but he doesn’t comment on it. “Please what?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, Bee, you can do it.”

“I just…I…this isn’t…”

“Almost there, that’s it. Be a good girl and ask me.”

Oh, that sadistic fucker. You’d berate him for such a nickname if it didn’t turn you on so goddamn much, especially with the state you're in. You might even wanna hear it again and truth be told, the thought blows your mind.

You swallow a shaky breath. “Harry?”

“Yes?”

“...please make me come.”

A wide smile bursts across his face. “Attagirl.”

And with that…he continues.

You’re thrust back up the precipice of pleasure as he slips three fingers into your aching, dripping cunt. 

And it’s purposeful and practiced and he’s such a liar because he knows exactly what he’s doing, at least to you, and you want to smack him.

But you also want to grab onto his hair and his arm and every inch of his body and never let go because he’s so good for making you feel this way. The best friend you could ever have and why on Earth didn’t you guys try this earlier?

Each curl, each twist, each push in. You feel so full and he feels so good and it’s only his hand and then suddenly…it’s his mouth, too.

And the moment he presses his tongue against you, you lose it. You roll your hips against his face, and lift your back from the bed, and drop your mouth open as a desperate moan falls free.

And it goes, and goes, and goes. Stronger and longer than any other one you’ve ever had and this time, you think it really does kill you.

But he doesn’t stop, not even when you’ve begun to settle. He pushes against the sensitive nerves until tears spring to your eyes. He teases and he tortures and he demands a second orgasm out of you before you can even fight it.

This time, he grabs onto your hips, one hand on either side, to lift you and place you where he wants.

And he tastes you. Savors you on his tongue as if this is for his enjoyment, not yours.

And you look down at him, and you see the flush in his cheeks, and the messy way his hair falls into his eyes, and the veins in his arms as he holds you.

And you lose it. Completely and utterly and permanently.

You disappear into your own head for a moment until his ministrations relax and he slowly—very slowly—begins to let go.

As you fight to catch your breath, you watch him run his thumb across his lip. He’s going to wipe you away, you imagine, but then, to your surprise, he sucks his thumb into his mouth.

When he notices you watching, he raises a brow. “Want some?”

And you can only lay there and stare at him, dumbfounded and blissed-out

He laughs to himself when he notices the spacey expression on your face, moving to hover over your body until he’s only inches away. “Can I try something else?”

“What?” you ask breathlessly.

He smiles. “Kissing you.”

Your eyes widen. “...why?”

He shrugs. “I mean, it’s only polite after something like that, no? Like…a parting gift.”

Your eyes narrow. “How sweet. No, really, that was so romantic. Don’t stop, give me another compliment—”

He presses his lips to yours. And it’s rushed and it’s messy and it’s the perfect parting gift.

It’s him.

And you don’t mind that.

You both grin when he pulls back, chuckling to yourselves as he flops over onto the bed beside you.

He helps you toss the blanket over your legs before he’s turning onto his side, head in his hand as he studies you. “All right, Teach. What do you say?”

You pretend to think. “Well…your dirty talk could use some work.”

He smirks. “Okay.”

“And your incessant need to make me spell it out lost you a few points.”

“Sure, sure.”

“But, overall…that was really good,” you admit, and he beams. “Like…better than I expected, and I kind of think you lied about not knowing what to do.”

He shakes his head playfully as he glances off into your room. “Good to know you had so much faith in me.”

“Oh, I didn’t. Not even a little.”

He snorts. “Well, I meant what I said. I only knew what to do because of you.”

“Yeah right. I didn’t tell you any of that.”

“You did,” he argues, turning his attention back to you. “Not with words, no. But with the sounds you made. The way your breath would catch or the way you’d squirm. Or when your nose would crinkle up ’cause you were trying really hard not to like it.”

Shit…had he noticed that? “I…okay, in my defense…I like almost anything. And I wanted to make you work for it.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Yeah.”

He rolls over onto his back, grinning up at the ceiling. “All right, well…I still appreciate it.”

“Hey, don’t get all sappy on me now.”

“Fuck off,” he groans. “I mean it, Bee. I was honestly…okay, don’t fucking laugh, but…I was kind of nervous about it. About whether or not she’d like it. Whether or not you’d like it, and…I’m glad you said yes. I’m glad it was you because…you know. It’s you. And I always feel better around you.”

You work to restrain your smile as you look up at the fan spinning above you. “I feel better around you, too.”

He hums.

“Especially after that. I mean…that was good,” you add and he shakes his head again. “She’s gonna love it.”

He turns to you. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.” You meet his eye. “Really, Har, you have nothing to worry about. She’ll show you what she likes just like I did. You know what to do, you just have to listen. And then…you can call me and tell me all about it.”

“Deal,” he agrees eagerly, sticking his pinky between you.

You take it and squeeze. “And I already know what next week's lesson is gonna be.”

Amused, he says, “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

You grin.

“How To Eat Ass 101.”

Next part:

~ Show Me* (Pt. 2)

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist (with all the other parts plus extras!)

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[whatharrysang]

Harry Styles & feeling

Harry Styles

Carolina - Feeling oh so far from home 

Carolina - She feels so good 

Two Ghosts - Sounds like something that I used to feel 

Two Ghosts - Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat 

Two Ghosts - I'm just trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat 

From the Dining Table - He said you feel just fine

Fine Line

Golden - But I, I can feel it take a hold (I can feel it take a hold) 

Golden - I can feel you take control (I can feel you take control) 

Watermelon Sugar - I want more berries and that summer feelin' 

Watermelon Sugar - I want your belly and that summer feelin' 

Falling - And I get the feelin' that you'll never need me again 

Sunflower, Vol. 6 - I don't wanna make you feel bad 

Canyon Moon - Carry the feeling 

Treat People With Kindness - Maybe we can find a place to feel good 

Treat People With Kindness - Find a place to feel good 

Treat People With Kindness - I got a good feeling 

Treat People With Kindness - Feelin' good in my skin 

Harry's House

Late Night Talking - If you're feelin' down 

Matilda - But I know that you feel like a piece of you's dead inside 

Cinema - Don't know why, but it feels so right to me 

Daydreaming - It just feels right 

Boyfriends - You feel a fool

Songs Harry wrote for other artists

Just a Little Bit of Your Heart - And I don't feel the need to 

Just a Little Bit of Your Heart - I don't ever tell you how I really feel 

Changes - 'Cause I don't wanna feel like I don't know you anymore 

One Direction Songs Harry wrote on

Everything About You - I still feel it every time 

Everything About You - The way you make it feel, new, new, new 

Summer Love - Feels like snow in September 

Story Of My Life - She told me in the morning she don't feel the same about us in her bones 

Happily - And if he feels my traces in your hair 

Right Now - I love this feeling that right now 

Right Now - You know I can't fight the feeling. 

Right Now - And every night I feel it. 

Right Now - I'm feeling like right now 

Where Do Broken Hearts Go? - Tell me where you go when you feel afraid? 

Fool's Gold - That's not the way it feels 

Fool's Gold - That's not the way you feel 

Stockholm Syndrome - But I feel I'm getting used to 

If I Could Fly - And pain gets hard, but now you're here and I don't feel a thing 

If I Could Fly - I can feel your heart inside of mine 

If I Could Fly - (I feel it, I feel it) 

Olivia - Say what you're feeling and say it now 

Olivia - 'Cause I got the feeling you're walking out 

A.M. - Feels like this could be forever tonight 

A.M. - Feels like this could be forever right now

Unreleased Songs

Already Home - We’ve been stealing, moments, feelings 

Don't Let Me Go - 'cause I'm tired of feeling alone 

Endlessly  -  I feel stronger

Half the World Away - Tell me you don't miss this feelin' 

I Just Wanna Love You - You know what it feels like 

I Just Wanna Love You - Tell me it don't feel alright 

Jesus Christ, Happy New Year - Feel no fear you’re older now 

Jesus Christ, Happy New Year - I don’t feel at home anymore 

Lately  -   Not just gonna skip another feeling 

Lately  -  And I still don't know why I'm calling, I've been feeling fine, l'm falling, out

Make My Day  - They make me feel wanted, make me confess 

Medicine - And up to your mouth, I'm feelin' it out 

Medicine - I'm feelin' it now 

She Got Away - What I feel, what I feel, I feel for her  

Spanish Girl  -  Feeling, you might not sleep anymore

Talk - Sick and tired of me, I can feel the heat 

Too Much Sauce - I'm a good time, make you feel alright 

Too Much Sauce - Have a good time, make you feel alright 

Too Much Sauce - 'Cause I'm a good time, make you feel alright 

Too Much Sauce - (Good time, make you feel alright, keep you up all night, you'll never want it back) 

Trouble - But I feel like I do sometimes 

Try Honey - She said "you make me feel so alone" 

Try Honey - It feels like I'm slipping away 

Try Honey - Feel lucky when I lay next to you

[cosmiclove-heavenstruck]

Dance Lessons | Harry James Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Wordcount: 12200 words (Yes, really. Do you ever just start to write a little oneshot and then it turns out as a fic with over 10000 words?)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, sexual tension but no smut, fluff, slight angst, slow burn i guess

Summary: Harry asks you to teach him how to dance for the upcoming Spring Ball.

a/n: Set in Harry’s sixth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (The beginning is inspired by this oneshot)

Not many could say that they had faced Voldemort more than once and had survived, but Harry Potter was one of the few lucky ones that had gotten away every time. And if that wasn’t enough, Harry had defeated horrifying creatures, had broken into the Ministry and had saved the wizarding world several times – more or less accidentally, but hey. He had dealt with Umbridge and fought Death Eaters.

To the world, he was a hero, he was the Boy Who Lived.

So yes, his record of fighting the evil was quite impressive for a sixteen-year-old. But there was one thing he knew he would never impress anyone with and that were his dance skills.

Because Harry Potter couldn’t dance for shit.

Everyone who had watched his poor attempt at a waltz at the Yule Ball knew it had been an embarrassing disaster, and a blessing when he had stopped – merely for Parvati Patil’s feet.

Everyone who had watched knew that Harry Potter had never before set foot on a dancefloor. And you had watched. You had watched with great interest because secretly, you had wished for him to ask you to the ball. But when there had been only two weeks left and Dean Thomas had asked you after Transfiguration class, you had said yes.

There you were, sitting with Dean beside Seamus and Lavender as well as Ron and his date Padma, your eyes glued to the raven-haired boy getting terribly out of step. You watched, of course, under the pretence that you found it disgracefully hilarious.

Harry had never thought about asking you to the Yule Ball, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been after Cho, and he waited way too long to ask her, so she was already going with Cedric. And you had a date with Dean.

As good as Harry was with fighting the dark and the evil, as bad was he with social interactions. He had no problem producing a Patronus, but he was absolutely useless when it came to talking to girls.

You were the opposite.

Yes, the boggart may had made you faint in front of your whole class, but on the other hand, talking seemed like the easiest task in the world. Whether it was a chat with a teacher or speaking to strangers, though you did not thrive off of that.

There was one other thing that made you stand out to the other girls (and boys) in your year: You knew how to dance, from a simple disco fox to a more complicated waltz.

So, when Professor Slughorn announced a Spring ball for the students in sixth and seventh year, Harry knew you were his only chance if he did not want to make a fool out of himself again. He asked you (after a whole week of practicing in front of the mirror), with heated cheeks and a fast-beating heart, if you could teach him how to dance.

You felt a bit taken by surprise by this request, but agreed, nonetheless.

Friday evenings, eight to nine o’clock, were now reserved for your weekly dance lessons.

Looking at Harry’s history, it should be no big deal to dance with a girl when you had already come across the most dangerous things existing in the wizarding world. He should not be nervous; what was the girl teaching you how to dance against gigantic spiders who saw you as their dessert?

Well, everything.             

The thing was, Harry could prepare spells and charms, he knew what he had to do when he was faced with a Dementor or a Boggart. His mind, however, went completely blank when it came to you, like his nerves were on fire. To say he was nervous was an underestimation.

Harry ran his hand through the mess of black locks in a rather useless attempt to flatten them. They jumped back up immediately as he let go, pointing in every direction but the one he wanted them to. Stupid genes.

Sometimes he wished he had inherited his mother’s hair. It would have been fun to be mistaken as a Weasley and he could pretend he and Ron were actually brothers.

To keep his hands busy, Harry smoothened the plaid shirt he had thrown on before darting another glance at the clock over the door of the abandoned classroom on the fifth floor. 8:01 o’clock.

His fingers drummed against the wooden desk he was leaning on to release his excited tension, which only worked until the door opened, and he jumped up into a straight position.

You stepped inside, a vinyl clammed under your arm and an apologizing smile on your lips.

“Sorry I’m late, Snape held me off,” You said, placing your bag on the table Harry had leaned on previously.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Uh, are you alright?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. I mean Snape just almost failed my assignment, but I found a new song to dance to, and I’m pretty sure you’ll like it,” You said as you rushed over to the old vinyl player in the corner and unwrapped the black record.

Harry followed your every movement. You could feel his eyes on you and bit down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“It’s a bit slower than the other one, so it will be easier for you to follow,” You added and pulled the vinyl out, stroking a streak of Y/H/C hair behind your ear, your back still facing him.

When the record was placed correctly into the player, you turned back around and led Harry by the hand to the middle of the classroom. This simple touch alone made Harry’s head spin, and it did not help when you placed his hand onto your waist.

“Are you ready?” You asked and he nodded. “Good, follow my lead.”

There was nothing but admirable beauty, the way you moved to the soft piano music filling the room, Harry thought, and he hated himself for not realising sooner. You were like a sunset, and he was afraid to look right at you because what if you saw all the feelings swelling in his heart that dared to overspill at any moment.

You had been right, he adored the music you had brought with you, but he adored you even more.

You thought he looked at his feet because he was afraid to mess up the steps.     

“Hey,” You said softly, taking the hand from his shoulder to lift his chin. “Eyes up.”

“Yes. Right. Sorry.”

A sheepish smile spread over his face and your heart beat hectically against your rip cage as his emerald green eyes met yours.

It took Harry a great deal of strength to not break out of the dance routine he had so intensely studied and kiss you. But your hand slipped away from under his chin back to his shoulder and the moment was lost, like so many others.

Staying professional was not so simple for you either, as much as you liked to deny it. You liked Harry, more than friends should like each other, but who could blame you? Harry was very handsome, with his messy hair and those green eyes, he was sweet and caring, and he was dancing with you in an abandoned classroom, his hand on your waist.

Looking at it from this angle, there seemed to be no reason as to why you were so careful to deny your feelings.

Well, there was one problem: You thought he wanted to ask Cho to the ball to make up for the Yule Ball.

Harry was pretty oblivious when it came to love. Neither had he thought about you as more than friends before sixth year, nor had he realised that the feelings he had felt for Cho two years ago were similar to the ones he had for you now, though they were much more intense.

The worst part was that you two had been friends for three year and since then, you had spent a week of every summer holiday at the Burrow. Harry knew you; he knew that you liked his crappy jokes and his sarcastic comments, but never before had his stomach tingled when you laughed at them. Never before had there been goose bumps all over his skin when you hugged him. And to hell, never before had he acknowledged how goddamn beautiful you were.

“You’re getting really good.” You ripped him out of his thoughts.

“Oh. Really?” He asked.

It would be brilliant if he could dance without thinking about it all the time, fearing he could step on your feet.

“Yes, really,” You replied, grinning.

“Well, I- I suppose I have a good teacher.”

The piano music faded out and you stopped in the middle of the room, slipping your hand out of his. It was a good excuse to turn around and start the vinyl again, so you did not have to answer anything.

Harry stood there for a second, gulping and scratching his neck. He should not have said that.

What he had said flattered you, but it was only a knife dressed like compliment, stroking over your heart to stab you right after. All of this was amicable, temporary, fickle. All of this was for Cho.

You sat the needle back on the record.

“What’s it called? The song, I mean,” Harry asked quietly.

“‘Il Reste du Temps’. The rest of time.” You walked back up to him and took his hand, leading you two into the dance. With his hand on your lower back, he pulled you a bit closer than last time.

“So, there are only two weeks left. You have asked Cho by now, I suppose?” You asked to remind your thoughts of reality.

Harry narrowed his eyebrows, not sure how you had come to the conclusion he still liked Cho. She was great, for sure, but she wasn’t you.

“Oh. Uh, not really, no,” He answered. Your heart jumped.

“Well, you should hurry up. You don’t wanna wait until last minute like last time.”

“I- yeah, I mean, I don’t- I don’t want to go with Cho.”

You stepped forward even though you were supposed to draw back and stomp on his left foot. His hand around yours clenched for a second at the sudden pain.

“Shit. Sorry.” You quickly brought you two back into the right footstep order. “You’re not asking Cho?”

“No. I wanna- No.” Harry stopped himself from talking any further. He couldn’t ask you. He just couldn’t.

“Well, who do you wanna ask?” You said.

Maybe it was Ginny. She was gorgeous, phenomenal at Quidditch and in the Slugclub. Nothing you could say about yourself.

Harry opened his mouth and stammered. “It’s, uh, you know…some…girl.”

Oh yes, great save, Harry, congratulations, He thought to himself, couldn’t be any vaguer, could you? For Merlin’s sake, look at her, she is completely confused.

You were pretty even when you were confused, with your eyebrows drawn together over your eyes curiously inspecting him – Stop.

“Ah, okay. The lucky girl’s a secret,” You said, laughing lightly. It was definitely Ginny.

“No, I mean, she’s –” 

“It’s not my concern who you’ll ask, Harry,” You interrupted to calm him down. “As long as you ask her.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that. You really saw them just as friends.

The two of you danced for a while and Harry tried to memorise every golden speck in your dark eyes, every freckle, every curve, just so he could imagine you instead of the person he would dance with in a fortnight. If he would even go. Because what point was there to go to a ball if the one person he wanted to dance with more than anything else would not be there with him?

You tried to enjoy the closeness while it lasted. But the voices crowding your mind all shouted that he would never see you the way you saw him. That his face would never be so close ever again. That his hands would never rest on your body the way they did now, and never with any other intention than for the sake of learning how to dance, learning how to impress Ginny or whoever he would ask.

“Have you – have you asked anyone yet? To go to the ball with you?” Harry disrupted your thoughts and pulled you back into reality.

“No. I don’t even know if I’ll go,” You said and Harry’s heart dropped. “I mean, I’ll come to watch you dance, that’s for sure.”

Now his heart was way up in his throat, beating like hell. He swallowed and forced himself to answer. “No pressure then.”

You grinned at his comment. “Oh please, you can dance better than most of sixth and seventh year combined by now. You remember the spin I showed you last time?”

Harry nodded. He lifted his left arm and put a little pressure on your waist. You performed a small twirl before he caught you again, hand on your side. He smiled proudly.

“Really good.” The music stopped and you looked at the clock on the wall behind Harry. 8:57 o’clock. “I guess that’s it for today.”

Harry smiled sadly but you thought it was just your mind, playing you a trick. You packed the record back into the cover while Harry shouldered his back bag, handing yours to you. Then he held the door open for you, and you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.

Harry had already pulled out the Marauders Map to check if the way back to the Gryffindor tower was clear. You weren’t technically allowed out after nine p.m. because of the new safety measurements, but it was part of the charm.

“Filch’s down on the first floor and Snape’s in his office,” Harry informed you.

“Okay.” You nodded.

Quietly and side by side, you two walked back to the Gryffindor tower. There was plenty of silence to break, plenty of time to ask you to the ball, Harry thought. But he was too afraid.

–

“It’s not that easy, alright?”

“Bloody hell, you spent every Friday evening with her! Half of our year thinks you’re secretly doing it in that classroom.”

For that, Ron earned a jab into his ribs. The two made their way through the masses of students down the last staircase to the Great Hall.

“Ow! It’s not my fault, you can’t open your mouth.”

“Oh, I can’t open my mouth? Have you asked Hermione yet?”

Harry was sure this would shut Ron up, but he was wrong.

“I asked her six weeks ago and she said yes, mate.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, stunned. “Wot?”

“Merlin, do you ever listen to me?”

Ron shook his head, walking to breakfast. Harry needed a few seconds before he could move again, then he caught up with his best friend. He was about to say something back when Ron’s sister Ginny interrupted them, wrapping her arms around both of Harry and Ron’s shoulders.

“Morning boys,” She greeted them enthusiastically.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was covered in a pale blue and yellow, the upcoming sun shining golden through the high windows.

“So.” Hermione poured both of you a glass of pumpkin juice. “How was it yesterday?”

“Mhm?” You looked up from your toast.

She sighed as if her question was rather obvious. “The dance lesson with Harry?”

“Oh.” You shrugged. “Normal.”

“So, nothing happened? Nothing you want to tell me?” She asked further.

You eyed her suspiciously, but she kept an innocent face expression.

“It’s not like we could do much besides dancing.”

Lavender beside you snickered and Parvati snorted into her coffee.

“Believe me, there is a lot you could do in that hour besides dancing,” Parvati said.

“God, no! Have you met Harry?” Lavender said bemusedly. “Like he's the type to have secret sex.”

“Still waters run deep,” Parvati replied, a smug grin on her lips. “Don't they, Y/N?”

Hermione crunched her nose at the suggestive tone as you narrowed your eyes at the two girls, shaking your head.

“Yes, keep making fun of my non-existing love life.”

You grabbed the strawberry marmalade, determined to ignore any topic concerning Harry. While you had lain awake last night, you had decided to bury your feelings for him all together and get over it. This would be easier once your dance lessons came to an end and the ball was done.

“Well, it does exist for everyone else,” Lavender interposed.

“And it would exist for you, too, if you would finally do something,” Hermione said, leaning forward.

“What?” You asked. “I mean, yeah, I like him, but he is definitely not into me like that. And I can't force him to be.”

Hermione groaned, and Parvati rummaged through her bag, pulling out a piece of parchment and making some space on the table.

“Okay, let’s see,” She began, “He asked you to teach him to dance. Big step for him, you know that. He always stares at you during Quidditch instead of the Snitch. Wood would've killed him by now. He always sits beside you. He definitely smelled you in Amortentia, regarding how he looked at you during that class. And since then, he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. He –”

“He does not,” You said, grabbing her wrist to stop her from writing any further.

“Yeah, he does,” Lavender argued. “Look!”

You turned to spot Harry alongside Ron and his sister Ginny coming through the doorway, and for one second, your eyes met. Then Ginny said something, and Harry looked at her, laughing.

You sighed and stuffed the rest of your toast down your throat to get rid of the sour feeling twirling and burning in your stomach.

“Well, Ginny’s pretty funny,” Hermione tried.

“Yeah, she’s funny and pretty and she likes everything he likes.”

“None of that matters because he fell in love with you and not Ginny,” Lavender said, smiling brightly.

“He did not – not what you said.”

“He did! The list doesn’t lie.”

Parvati waved the parchment through the air, and you snatched it out of her hand, drowning it in the pumpkin juice before anyone could read it. Hermione curled her lip as she watched the paper soaking up the orange liquid, sinking to the ground of the jug.

In the same moment, Harry, Ron and Ginny reached your table, and to your surprise, Harry really did sit down beside you, your knees touching shortly while he climbed over the bench. The sudden touch sent sparks through your body and filled you with a comfortable warm which was quickly extinguished by Ginny sitting down next to Harry.

You didn’t want to be jealous.

There was no need to compare yourself to Ginny, you were two completely different people. But hearing her talk about Quidditch to the guys and seeing her flicking her beautiful hair over her slim shoulder made it so obvious how perfect for Harry she was. You couldn’t compete with that, in fact, you didn’t even want to compete with that.

No, you would get over your feelings and maybe ask someone else to spend the next Hogsmeade weekend with you. Those evenings with Harry, those moments too good to be true would stay somewhere deep down in your heart, locked away from the real world.

The weekend left as fast as it had come, and soon enough Harry and you both found yourselves in your day-to-day school life, studying for an upcoming Charms test and writing essays for Snape and McGonagall.

There wasn’t much time to think about each other, yet Harry managed to glance up from his homework a few times to stare at you opposite from him, snuggled into an armchair while flicking through a book. He noticed that you captured your tongue between your lips or mouthed single words to yourself whenever you were so deeply sunken into thoughts that you forgot the many people around you.

The latter found Harry very impressive because he was never that relaxed if more than three people were with him. Your lips on the other hand found Harry... well, much more interesting than his homework was the least to say.

Every day he woke up thinking that today, he would ask you. But whenever he came close to ask, he changed the topic or was distracted by friends and classmates.

Even Ron had given up with his jokes by now, which was a very bad sign and a nonverbal way to say, Man, you fucked up.

–

You had decided to make the last of your dance lessons a memorable one. An hour of pretending, of being close to someone you know you would never be this close to ever again.

Therefore, you had asked your older sister to send some of your favourite records from home, which you were now sorting through in the abandoned classroom. It was ten minutes to eight and you were sipping a butterbeer to cool your nerves. All those times before you had been as calm as ever, but today you were on the edge.

The door opened and you turned to find Harry in the doorway, hair messy as ever.

“Hi,” He said and the corners of his lips jumped up into a lopsided smile.

“Hey. You’re early.”

“Could say the same about you.”

“Yeah, you could,” You mumbled, pushing the needle of the record player down onto the vinyl.

Classic music filled the air and you walked over to Harry to lead him to the middle of the room after he had dropped his back bag to the floor. With the high heels on your feet, you were almost eye to eye, your nose at the height of his lips.

For a wonder, he did not need your instruction to place his hand on your waist and pulled you much closer than usual.

Harry felt his heart beating in his throat. Being this close to you was galvanic, every nerve was burning, and then again, for the first time in two months, he was able to close his eyes and let himself sink in, to melt with the music, to feel the tact pulsating through his whole body. It was what you had tried to teach him all along.

And yet his tongue was tied. He just had to ask. Would you like to go to the ball with me? One simple question. You had told him yourself to not wait until last-minute to ask, and now with every minute, every hour, every day passing it felt more ridiculous. He had known that he wanted to ask you and only you to the ball, but every time he thought about forming the question, his mouth failed him.

Your eyes lay calmly on him, tapping his shoulder in time to the music while secretly trying to remember every little detail of his face: His prominent eyebrows curved over his emerald green eyes, his flushed cheeks and the dimples created by his light smile lying on his lips.

Harry had become, for lack of a better word, quite fantastic at slow dancing. There was confidence in the way he moved through the room and held onto you, mingled with a certain elegance and appreciation of the art he was participating in. A good teacher, he had called you. Well, regarding slow dances, yes.

But there was one other thing he had yet to learn.

“You’re really good, you know that?” You said, and his smile brightened.

“Yeah? Or are you just saying that because it’s my last lesson?” He asked.

“No, I mean it. You know, I wrote my sister last week and she send some of my vinyl discs from home,” You told him as the music slowly faded out and let your hand slip from his shoulder and hand to turn to the record player, not noticing how his fingers lingered a moment longer on your waist.

Harry watched how you sorted through the discs, not able to make use of their names in any way. The only record he had come across before those dance lessons had been one by a singer named Bonnie Tyler, who Aunt Petunia secretly listened to on repeat during the summer when Uncle Vernon went grocery shopping or mowed the lawn.

Harry wasn’t a big fan, which was pretty much the only thing he had in common with his cousin Dudley.

“Here. To dancing and a nice Spring ball.” Harry snapped out of his thoughts. You held out a bottle of butterbeer, which he took and snapped its bottle top off, regarding for a moment to say something along the lines like To you, for teaching me how to dance or To us, but that seemed a bit too much.

Therefore, he went with a simple “Cheers” and touched glasses with you.

While he took a big sip in hopes it would make him braver, you decided on a turquoise and pink coloured disc with a man dancing on the front, the words Footloose in ornate writing covering its front. He couldn’t help but notice the grin you tried to hide, as if knowing something he didn’t.

“What’s that?” He asked, leaning against the table beside you and putting his beer aside.

“That’s what the cool kids dance to.”

You placed the needle onto the record. Drums began to play a fast rhythm, mixed with an electric guitar, and you slipped off your high heels, now only in tights. Harry watched with fearful curiosity how you snapped your fingers in time, bopping your head with closed eyes to internalise the music.

Every movement of your feet, your hips, your shoulders was nonchalant, effortless and... well, simply cool.

“Come on!” You said loudly over the music, waving Harry closer.

“No, no, that’s –” He shook his head, heat flushing his cheeks, and crossed his arms.

“Yes!”

You danced up to him, grabbing him by his hands and pulling him to the middle of the room.

Harry had improvised a lot when it came to fighting evil. His whole trip to the ministry had been decided because of his gut instinct, because he had thought he knew what he was doing. Well, that was probably a bar example. He had made everything worse back then.

But everything he had done to fight off the hundreds of Dementors at the Great Lake, or the creatures in the maze two years ago, or Voldemort at the graveyard, every single thing had been purely and spontaneously improvised.

Now, he wasn’t sure if he was that good at improvising dance moves, but you had other plans.

“Come on, don’t you trust me?” You said as his fingers clenched around your hands, unable to let go, like a man clinging onto a life buoy in the middle of the ocean.

And Harry wanted to say back that of course he trusted you, more than he probably knew himself, but all that came out was a “Yeah” which sounded more like a laugh than an actual word because of the grin stretched across his lips.

“Just dance the way you dance when no one’s watching,” You said.

“I don’t – I don’t do that,” He admitted, feeling how his cheeks burned under the unbelieving look coming from you.

“Okay, then close your eyes and just – just do it. Here, I’ll do it, too!”

You closed your eyes, smiling brightly, and slipped your fingers out of his, twirling on the spot like you usually only did behind closed doors, and clapping your hands in time with the music.

Harry couldn’t rip his gaze off of you, the way your body moved without any shame, your ridiculous head banging while acting like you play the guitar – air guitar, that’s what it was called, he had seen Dudley and his friends doing it, but never with so much... passion?

You were quite passionate about dancing, much more passionate than you were about school or Quidditch, and it fascinated him. How you could let loose, could forget what everyone thought of you, and he wanted to feel it too, wanted to not think that everyone was judging him.

So, Harry closed his eyes, concentrated on the beat of the music and your hands clapping, and then he did what you had been doing: Moving his arms, his legs, his feet, all a bit offbeat, all much less cool than what you did, but it had the effect he had wished for.

He forgot. Forgot about everything going on, everything in the past, everything that would come. It was like the music had deleted Voldemort from his mind. There was only his body and those absurdly freeing dance moves he would have been ashamed off any other time.

But not with you.

“Hey, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, look at you!” You shouted over the music, and Harry ripped his eyes open in the same moment as you grab his hands again. He slowed his legs.

“You said you wouldn’t look,” He said breathlessly, very aware of his fast-beating heart.

But if he was honest, he did not mind that you had seen him. If he could choose any of his friends to watch him dance like this, it would definitely be you.

“I had to, I’m sorry!” You laughed, and the song came to an end. “Oh, I have something even better, you’ll like that!”

You hit him friendly in the chest and rushed over to your pile of vinyl discs, wrapping the Footloose back up and pulling out another one from a white and pink packaging with two people on the front.

Harry would’ve never believed that dance lessons would be more exhausting than Quidditch training, but he had soon been disabused. He took a huge sip from his bottle of butterbeer and watched how you placed the needle on the disc before reaching for your own bottle.

“‘You broke my heart – ‘cause I couldn't dance – you didn’t even want me around!’” You were mouthing along the words the singer was speaking in an overdramatic seriousness, holding your bottle like a microphone. Harry was grinning at you, afraid of what would come next. “‘And now I'm back – to let you know – I can really shake 'em down!’”

The music dropped in, and you shook your hips, hands on your black skirt.

“Now don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Dirty Dancing,” You dared as Harry stayed at his spot, and he shrugged helplessly.

You shook your head at him with a smile on your lips, placed your bottle away and pulled him away from the table until you two were almost as close as in your usual dance lessons.

“Okay, like this.” You grabbed him gently by the waist and pushed him a bit down so his legs were slightly bent. Harry’s heart jumped at the unexpected touch. “Good, yeah, look at what I’m doing.”

Your grip became firmer, circularly moving his hips like you did. His eyes jumped up between your face and your waist, and he tried his best to copy your movements while calming his heart speed down.

“Yes, good! Now, your upper body, look at me – yeah! Good, eyes up,” You reminded him, and he glanced at your face, his cheeks flushed.

“Is that okay?” You asked, stepping closer so your hips almost touch, and he nodded. You took his hand, placed it on your lower back, and wrapped your own arms around his neck, just like Johnny and Baby had done it in the beginning of Dirty Dancing.

“That’s good!” You encouraged him, and he grinned at you, his face bright red. “You know, in the movie, they have another dance with a lift.”

“You’re not gonna make me do that, are you?” He asked.

You shook your head, laughing. “No, definitely not without training and a mattress,” You said, slowing your hip movements. “Maybe after the ball. I mean –”

The words had just slipped out of your mouth without thinking about them before. But Harry smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his forehead, while I’ve Had The Time Of My Life began to play, and Bill Medley’s voice filled the room.

Harry felt like he was on fire. If you wanted to continue the dance lessons next year it must be because you liked him. In some way, you liked him, and it was very hard for him to concentrate during this dance. And training on a mattress would not make that easier – Stop it, stop it, just answer!

“Yeah, okay,” He said, and your heart jumped up in excitement. You smiled back at him and grabbed his free hand with yours, leading you back into a simple dance routine fitting the music. Harry followed almost effortlessly, only shortly glancing at his feet.

“I’ll have to demand payment if we keep doing this.”

“What kind of payment?”

His hand on your lower back pushed you a bit closer, you were almost chest to chest. Was he... flirting with you?

Whatever it was, it made you speechless, and in a moment of incautiousness, your eyes fell down to his lips. You held your breath for a second as you looked back up into his eyes, slowing your movements. He returned your gaze, but just as you were about to gather all your courage, his eyes shifted to the door of the classroom, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

“What?” You asked, turning around.

“Filch,” He said and not far down the hall, you heard the meowing of Mrs. Norris.

Panic flared up inside of you as you saw the clock on the wall: Half past nine.

“Argh, fuck.”

You let go off him and rushed over to the table with the record play on top, shoving your vinyl discs into your schoolbag and collecting your high heels in a hurry.

Outside in the hallway, the scratchy voice of Filch mixed with the clicking of his cat’s claws on the stone tiles. Harry had grabbed his bag from the floor and fished out his Invisibility Cloak. As you turned around, he had reached you and enveloped you two in the cloak, standing almost as close to you as a few seconds ago.

“Have you found someone, Mrs. Norris?” Filch’s voice echoed through the hallway. “Is someone out of bed at night?”

“We have to get out,” You whispered, not very keen on getting detention any time soon.

“If we open the door now, he’ll know someone disguised is there,” Harry answered.

“How often have you snuck out of bed at night?”

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a lopsided smile.

“Enough times to know what to do.”

The scratching on the classroom door reminded Harry that, despite the fact that they were invisible, it was still pretty obvious that someone had been in here. Harry flicked his wand at the ceiling light right in time – the candles went out and the two of you were coated in darkness just before Filch pushed the door open and the light from his lantern fell onto the stone floor. You held your breath, hoping he would leave again.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Norris’ red eyes scanned the room and the greyish cat walked up to you as if she could actually see you. Instinctively, you wanted to move backwards, but Harry’s arm wrapped around you, holding you in place. You looked up to him and he slowly shook his head.

Mrs. Norris eyed you for a few more seconds before she suddenly jumped onto the table behind you, walking up to the two almost emptied butterbeer bottles and bumping her head against them.

“Oh no.” Your voice was no more than a whisper. “I didn’t –”

Harry placed his hand over your mouth, forcing you to keep quiet.

“Sorry,” You mumbled.

Filch had turned away from the other side of the room he had inspected and was now walking over to his cat. With his arm around your mid, Harry pulled you two quietly away from the table he was now inspecting. You weren’t entirely sure whether it was the panic of escaping Filch or Harry’s chest pressed against your back, but the butterflies in your stomach were jittery as though they were on drugs, and your heart beat unbelievably fast.

Harry felt your heartbeat. He felt the pulsating blood in your veins on your neck where his arm lay, reaching up to your mouth. You were barely breathing, and he figured it was because he was holding you like he was about to kidnap you.

“Run when we’re in the hallway,” He whispered, eyes steadily watching Filch, and removed his hand from your lips to grab your free hand. You nodded shortly. Fortunately, Filch had left the door open, and in one swift motion, Harry had steered you outside.

Fingers still interlocked with yours, he began to run, you by his side. And despite the fact that you two had almost been caught, despite that you had been interrupted when he had felt most confident, despite the ruined moment, he felt light and free and happy.

You were clutching your shoes, slithering over the cold tiles in your black tights, and Harry, looking at you, almost missed the last step of the stairs leading to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He held onto you as he staggered, and you giggled breathlessly, pulling him back up.

“That – stupid – fucking – cat. Can she see through your cloak?” You asked.

Harry shrugged and ruffled through his messy hair.

“Don’t know. I think, but I’m glad she can’t talk,” He said, and a grin spread over your lips, which he returned.

He caught your eyes, looking at you like before, like there was something he needed to say – the tingling feeling in your core got overwhelmed by heart-racing panic and because of some sour mix of uncertainty and fear, you slipped out from under the Invisibility Cloak, taking a few steps away from Harry.

Not a second later, he emerged as well, fighting to keep the smile on his face like his heart hadn't just sunk so deep he wasn't sure if it was even still connected to his veins.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Your voice was too loud, too squeaky to convince him. “Yeah, I – I'm sorry, it's just been a long week and I'm really tired. I'm gonna – gonna go...”

You gestured to the portrait behind you, avoiding his eyes, and turned to escape the situation.

Harry stared at the spot where you had vanished into the common room, his fingers clenching around the fabric of his cloak before tossing it to the ground. It didn't give the satisfying sound he had wanted to make, so he sent a “Fuck!” after it.

“Young boy, that is not a very appropriate language, now, is it?”

His eyes flew up to the Fat Lady, who had apparently watched with great interest. “Besides, what are you doing that late out of bed? I mean I know it gets later on Fridays for the two of you but it's later than usual today –”

“Chinese Fireball.”

“I just don't know what you are doing during that hour. There are rumours, for sure –”

“I told you the password, now will you open the fucking portrait? Chinese Fireball.”

“Oh, fine.” She let the portrait swing forward. “I'll find out by myself... maybe visit some paintings down on fifth floor...”

Harry ignored the Fat Lady.

He also ignored Ron calling after him from the sofa in front of the fireplace, as well as Hermione's questioning look and all the other people staring at him as he darted through the common room and up the stairs, slamming the door of his dorm shut behind him.

He ignored them because the only person he wanted to be seen with had just left him standing in the hallway and he wasn't even sure why.

The first time you saw each other again was three days later in Potions. You had ignored him on purpose, which you knew was obvious to him: Leaving the Great Hall whenever he stepped inside, sitting as far from him in the common room as possible, avoiding his eyes... that did not leave that much room for speculations.

You didn't want to hurt him, you really didn't, but you couldn't be friends any longer, especially not after last Friday. You weren't even sure what exactly had happened – had he really flirted with you or had that been your imagination? Probably the latter. He had asked someone else the ball after all. Right?

Parvati nudged you with her elbow, and you snapped out of your thoughts, noticing the hole in your parchment created by your quill. The two of you sat in the far back of Professor Slughorn’s class, who was in the middle of telling one of his anecdotes instead of teaching about Veritaserum.

“What’s going on?” She asked in a hushed voice. “You’ve been weird since Friday.”

Lavender, who sat in front of you, turned around. “Is it because of – you know?”

She gestured towards Harry in his usual place diagonally across from you. You sighed, placed your quill aside to rub your hands over your face and shrugged. You had also avoided any questions from your friends about Friday, mostly because you could not even answer them yourself.

“I thought he would ask you,” Lavender whispered while throwing a quick glance at Slughorn to make sure he was still occupied with his story. “Didn’t he?”

“No,” You mouthed. Parvati shook her head.

“Man, you’d think he had grown a set of balls after all. If it turns out he just used you to look good in front of Ginny, I swear to Merlin –”

“Well, that’s what it looks like, I mean, he had enough time to ask you,” Lavender said.

Before you could reply anything, Parvati had grabbed her wand and leaned forward. In the next second, the blue Jobberknoll feathers on Harry’s desk burst into flames with an ear-piercing noise.

Both Harry and Ron jumped up, startled from the sudden explosion, and Hermione let out a little shriek as one of the sparks got caught up in her locks. Snickering came from the Slytherin table, and Crabbe and Goyle were stupidly grinning.

“Was that you? Stupid tosspot, I’ll shove that feather up your –,” Ron swore loudly, fists high and ready to walk over to the Slytherins, who had gotten up as well and were throwing insults through the room.

“Calm down, m’boys, no need to get abusive.”

Slughorn stepped between the two fronts while both Harry and Hermione pulled Ron back down onto his chair. With a wave of Slughorn’s wand, the feathers stopped burning and were as good as new.

“Have you gone mental?” You asked during the turmoil. Parvati shrugged and innocently shoved her wand aside.

“You’re my friend and if he hurt you, he’ll get what he deserves –”

“He didn’t hurt me!” You whispered angrily. “I was the one who panicked, I ran away that evening because I was afraid of what he would say! Not Harry. I left him like the idiot I am even though he – he was super nice and said he wanted to learn more –”

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Sorry, Professor, I was just –”

“Talking to Ms. Patil, I noticed. Could you still answer my question?” Slughorn eyed you, and so were all the other students.

“Uh...yes... if you could repeat it? Sir.” You said, and once again snickering echoed through the classroom, the loudest coming from Pansy Parkinson.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Parvati reaching for her wand again, and you quickly pressed her hand down to the table, awkwardly smiling at Slughorn.

“I asked if you could tell me anything about the usage of Veritaserum in court,” He kindly repeated and you straightened your back, ignoring Hermione’s raised hand.

“Well, the potion is strictly banned by the British Ministry of Magic, therefore they don’t use it during interrogations and such, which is also because, like any other potion, it’s not infallible. But I read that in some Asian countries, the accused can choose if they want to take Veritaserum before they give testimony. Unfortunately, in some courts they give the accused failed Veritaserum in order to alter the given testimony fraudulently.”

You had never read about that, you were – ironically – making it up, but Slughorn didn’t seem to notice.

“Very well, that’ll be five points for Gryffindor,” He said. “That reminds me of –”

As Slughorn fell back into his old habit of telling personal stories during class, you sank back into your chair and stared at the chapped top of the desk for the rest of the lesson.

Only the bell ripped Slughorn out of his monologue, and over the rustling of chairs, he told the class to read the next chapter of Advanced Potion Making until Wednesday.

“Courtyard?” You asked Parvati as to where to spend your free lesson.

“Yeah, but I got a question about that graded essay from last week. Just go ahead, I’ll catch up with you,” She answered and made her way to the front. Alongside with Lavender, you were one of the first to leave the Potions classroom.

“I wish I hadn’t picked Arithmancy,” Lavender complained.

“You can sleep longer on Thursdays, remember?” You said as you reached the entrance hall. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Lavender began to climb up the stairs to the third floor, and you walked down the hallway. It was freezing cold outside, but the courtyard was beautiful during every time of the year, especially in the early mornings when the sun melted the iced-up grass and you could share a hot chocolate with your friends on one of the benches.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait!”

You turned to spot none other than Theodore Nott running up to you, his Slytherin scarf loosely around his neck.

“Hi,” He said as he had reached you.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” You asked.

“Actually, yeah. I wanted to ask if you have a dance to spare at the Spring ball? I mean, I know you’re going with Potter, I just wanted one dance with someone professional –”

“I’m not going with Harry,” You blurted out. Theodore narrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” He asked, a bemused smile on his lips.

You gulped and shook your head, crossing your arms. “I’m not going with... anyone.”

“Oh. Well, then,” His body relaxed visibly, and he raised his eyebrows, “do you wanna go with me?”

You opened your mouth, an agreement already on the tip of your tongue, but you knew that was just out of desperation and not because you actually wanted to go to the ball with Theodore.

“Hey, you know what, no pressure at all, okay?” He said, placing his hand on your shoulder casually. “I’ll be at the ball anyway, so if you want to dance then, I’m free.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Theodore. I’ll think about it.”

“You can call me Theo. Only if you want to, obviously.”

A grin crept upon your face. “Yeah, I’ll – I’ll think about it.”

Whatever Harry had felt the two days prior, it was nothing compared to the sour feeling circulating in his stomach now, like some dragon-creature spitting fire and tearing at his entrails with sharp claws. Inside of him, everything was clenching and itching, but on the outside, he was numb.

Like his brain had been disconnected from his muscles, wherefore he was only able to stare at Theodore Nott and his stupid, complacent grin and his hand on your shoulder while he asked you to the ball.

This wasn’t fair. How come everyone else but him was able to do it, how come everybody else had managed to find a date, when – to be honest – he had been provided with one of the best initial situations? How come the only thing he was apparently fit for was getting himself into trouble and escaping death every goddamn year? Harry had kind of forgotten about all that was to come, all that Dumbledore had told him, and the memory Slughorn was still tending like dark secret simply because of you.

The worst thing wasn’t that Theodore Nott had just asked you to go to the Spring ball with him. No, the worst thing was that you had agreed.

The only thing that was left for him was to run, which he did now: Up to the Gryffindor tower, tossing his back bag into a corner and grabbing his Firebolt from under the bed, then back down to the Quidditch pitch in record time.

Flying was one of the most freeing activities known to Harry, especially in the cool, fresh morning air with no one else around. High above the frozen grass and the wooden stands, much higher than probably allowed without any teacher near by, Harry paused to watch the sun over the Forbidden Forest.

He wondered if you had ever flown before, if you knew how brilliant it was to hover a thousand feet above the ground, far away from all the problems. Far away from Ron asking what the bloody hell was wrong with him. Far away from Hermione telling him that it was his own fault for waiting so long but that you surely weren’t interested like that in that tosser Theodore (though she would probably word it much more formal).

Time was relative up here, Harry had noticed over the years, so he closed his eyes and shut the world out for a moment. Saturday was still light-years away anyway, so –

“Harry, is that you?”

He almost fell from his broom.

With his heart still beating way to fast and adrenalin pumping though his veins, he turned his broom around to find no one other that Luna standing inside commentary box and waving up to him. Oh well. So much for being alone.

He steered his Firebolt down to the blonde witch and landed beside her.

“What are you doing her, Luna?” He asked as climbed from his broomstick. “Don’t you have classes right now?”

“Oh, yes. But I saw that you are sad so I asked Professor Sprout if I could go because I’m not feeling very well,” She explained and sat down on one of the benches.

“You lied to a professor?”

“Oh, no,” She said, looking at him with her dreamy blue eyes. “I don’t feel well when my friends are sad.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that, so he simply sat down next to her. Luna had such a strange, but calm energy, like a pulsating, pink bubble inhibiting her, and if you were lucky, she let you inside this bubble and you could shut the world out for a moment.

“Harry, why are you sad?” Luna asked softly after a while.

“Because... because I like someone who doesn’t like me back,” He said.

Luna placed her hand upon his, and he saw that she had painted her fingernails in every colour of the rainbow. Though that was probably Ginny’s work.

“I think Y/N likes you very much,” She said. Harry scoffed.

“Not the way I like her,” He said. “She just agreed to go to the ball with Nott. I saw it. She looked happy. And when I wanted to ask her last week, she ran away.”

“You know, first I thought you wanted to go to the ball with somebody else,” She said. “I thought maybe you wanted to ask Cho again and wanted to prepare this time. And maybe Y/N thought so, too.”

Harry looked up at the blonde girl.

“She did ask me if I was going to ask Cho,” He said, remembering one of the dance lessons.

“And did you tell her that you actually want to ask her?”

“No,” He admitted, burying his face in his hands. “I panicked... and now it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. You should still go to the ball, and then you should tell her,” Luna said.

“How? I can’t do it when we’re alone, I certainly can’t do it when there’s a hundred people around,” Harry said miserably.

“Well, then don’t.” Luna shrugged. “If you want her to be with Theodore –”

“I don’t want that,” He interrupted her. “Of course, I don’t.”

“Then go to the ball and tell her. I know you can do that.”

Saturday evening came around faster than you liked it to. Over the last four days, you had noticed Theodore’s eyes on you more than once during the meals or potions class, but it did not cause the tingling feeling in your stomach you would like his looks to cause.

If anything, you felt a pressure to talk to him and to spend time with him because you would go to the ball together. But you did not give in to that pressure and avoided him as much as possible, which led to you often leaving the potions classroom as one of the first.

To be honest, you were much more concentrated on Harry.

Harry who did not sit beside you during meals anymore. Harry who did not look in your direction but rather stared at his plate. Harry who looked like he had just lived through a very miserable week.

And you knew that was because you had left him standing in the hallway last Friday night. Maybe he had figured that you had feelings for him and that was his way of dealing with it: Distancing himself from you.

You wished you had not run. You wished you could’ve stayed in that abandoned classroom forever, your favourite song playing and his arms around you.

–

“What eyeshadow should I use?”

“The darker one.”

“Y/N?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up from where you sat on the floor in your puffy, ankle-long purple-pink dress. Parvati held out her eyeshadow palette, eyebrows raised as she sceptically eyed you. Her black hair was still wrapped around a dozen curlers. Lavender had spent all morning on them.

“Yes, the darker one,” You said. “Brings out your eyes.”

Thankfully, that answer seemed to satisfy her enough to not ask how you were doing. She and Lavender had already asked that over a million times, but you had reassured them that you were totally okay.

Parvati turned back to face the mirror.

“When did you want to meet with Nott?” Lavender asked. She kneeled in front of her trunk, pondering whether she should wear black or silver heels.

“Half past seven,” You mumbled, picking at the tulle of your dress.

Theodore had held you back yesterday after Defence against the Dark Arts to tell you that he would be at the Great Hall at 7:30 and that you were welcome to eat dinner with him and his friends – which included people like Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson; people you usually avoided by all means, people that had laughed at you for tripping over the last step of a stair, for not knowing an answer to one of Snape’s stupid questions, or for simply being Muggleborn.

You had never been less interested in going to a social event. All you wanted to do was lay in bed under your blanket and erase the last week out of your mind.

“Oh, come on, darling, we talked about this.” Lavender came over and squished your cheeks, brushing away a tear. “Today is not the day to sulk about some guy who doesn’t return your feelings. Today is your day, and you’re gonna have fun with us. Don’t let some guy ruin that. Okay?”

You sniffed and nodded, not able to answer because she cupped your cheeks so solidly. Lavender smiled and kissed your forehead.

“That’s right,” She said. “We’re gonna have some dinner and dance a bit and if by then you still feel bad, we can go back to our dorm.”

“And if Harry dares to talk to you, he’s gonna know what’s it feels like to be kicked in the balls with a heel,” Parvati added dryly. You laughed.

The Great Hall was decorated with yellow, pink and purple banners, and the four long house tables had been exchanged with much smaller, round ones scattered where the staff table usually stood, on each of them a vase filled with rosa tulips and white daffodils.

The ceiling did not mirror the night sky outside but a beautiful, orange sunset lighting up the dance floor in the middle. Opposite from the many tables, on the other end of the hall, Slughorn had organised a stage with a cover band. Next to the stage hung a long parchment onto which everyone could write requests.

You spotted your Potions teacher, dressed in a bright green suit, next to Dumbledore, his robes a terrible pink, both of them writing down their song requests.

“A Galleon that Dumbledore is a Spice Girls fan,” Lavender said grinning as she had followed your eyes.

“Bet,” Parvati said, grabbing three drinks from a passing waiter. “Here. Cheers.”

The three of you clinked glasses and took a sip of the red punch – it tasted strongly of various fruits, coconut, and bitter alcohol.

You let your eyes glide further over the hall and the people that sat together in groups around the tables, some of them already eating. Secretly, you were looking for Harry, though you only discovered Ginny in between Luna and Hermione, all of them chatting happily, and a few tables behind them, Theodore.

He waved as he saw you, gesturing to come over. You forced yourself to smile and wave back at him.

“I’ll see you later,” You said, chugging down the rest of your drink.

“Tell us if he’s being an asshole,” Parvati said. “Or really any of them.”

“And have some fun,” Lavender added.

You took one last look at your friends – Parvati in her silk, almond white, slim dress, and Lavender with flowers in her hair, their arms linked together – and swallowed thickly before turning and making your way through the crowd towards Theodore, though you made sure to give the table with Ginny a wide berth.

“Hi, Y/N,” Theodore greeted you, pecking a swift kiss on your left cheek. His eyes, however, were gliding over the room filling with more and more students. “We’ve already ordered some drinks, come on.”

You took a step back after the kiss, blinking quickly, then noticed how the other people around the table were staring at you:

Pansy and Daphne eyed you and your dress dismissively, and Blaise sipped on his wine, eyebrows raised. Only Draco was slumped in his chair and chewed on a gum, not wasting a single glance at you. He looked as uninterested in this Spring Ball as you felt.

An hour ago, you sure as hell wouldn’t have believed to relate to bloody Draco Malfoy.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/N,” You said, forcing a smile on your face and holding out your hand towards Pansy, as she sat closest to you. “I like your dress. Matches your earrings.”

That compliment seemed to leave a mark. Her judging look softened and she shook your hand.

After introducing yourself to everyone (well, except Draco, who had only shortly nodded at you), you sat down in between Theodore and Blaise, and ordered something to eat.

Pansy and Daphne were huddled together the whole time, giggling and pointing at others, while Draco raised a complaint about every meal on the menu or really any other small inconvenience that had the unfortune to be spotted by him (“I can’t eat that, it has tomatoes in it. Nothing on here is gluten free. I’ll write father first thing in the morning. Pansy, will you shut the fuck up for a second? That’s not even a real band. God, I hate this place.”).

“He’s a whiny bitch most of the time, but his family has a great holiday chalet in France,” Blaise said to you after Draco had shot you an annoyed look for asking if you should ask the band to play a different song. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be friends with him.”

“I hope you choke on that disgusting wine,” Draco muttered, and you chuckled.

“Sure, darling,” Blaise replied, sharing a look with you. Until now, Blaise had surprisingly talked the most with you, and it turned out he wasn’t half as bad as you had always thought he would be.

Theodore on the other hand had only occasionally asked you how your meal was and how long you had planned to stay. His eyes had not held contact with yours for longer than a second and were still searching for something in the crowd, which was – by the way – having fun on the dance floor while you had not moved in almost an hour.

It wasn’t until a particularly beautiful girl from Ravenclaw strode past your table that Theodore hooked his foot around the leg of your chair to pull you closer and placed his hand on your upper thigh, giving you his full attention for the first time that night.

“Have I told you that you look very pretty tonight?” He asked, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Er – no,” You said, darting a confused look towards the Ravenclaw girl.

“Well, you do,” Theodore went on and turned your head back to face him by stroking his thumb over your cheek before pressing his lips onto the skin beneath your ear. They felt chapped and not pleasant in any way. You cringed.

“Uh, sorry, but that’s maybe a bit early, don’t you think?” You said, drawing back and shoving his hand from your thigh.

“She’s gone anyway, Theo,” Blaise said. You did not understand.

“Who’s gone?” You asked, looking back and forth between Theodore and the others, who all seemed to know something you didn’t. Pansy giggled.

“Nothing,” Theodore said. His sweet voice had turned bitter, and you felt like that was your fault. He stood up. “I’ll get some more punch.”

The band segued from an upbeat song into a much slower one, and the light of the candles magically dimmed.

“Do you want to dance maybe?” You asked Theodore as a way to make up for your rejection, but he had already pushed past a group of chatting seventh years, not turning around.

You sank back into your chair, picking at the tulle of your dress again. Was it too early to tell Lavender and Parvati that you wanted to go back to your dorm?

“Girl, if I were you, I would get out of here as quickly as possible,” Blaise said. You looked up at him. “He’s not worth it. And he’s not here for you. So don’t waste your energy.”

“But he asked me to the ball,” You said weakly.

“Did he? Or did he just ask for some time with you to make his ex-girlfriend jealous?”

“He – well – he…”

But Blaise looked at you and you knew that he was right, that this was never about you but some other girl. It was always about some other girl.

“Excuse me, I’ll get some fresh air,” You said and made your way through the tables towards the doors.

The last time, everyone had watched him. Now it was Harry’s turn to watch everyone else try their best on the dance floor. He wasn’t sure what was worse; to be laughed at by the others while stepping on Parvati’s feet every other second or to watch not only Hermione and Ron but also Ginny and Luna, as well as Seamus and Dean dancing closely, arms around the other.

They all had no idea what they were doing, Harry could tell, but they were having fun anyway. He had never seen Hermione this happy.

“Oh, flashback.”

Harry looked up. Parvati sat down next to him on the chair that Ron had left over half an hour ago.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, taking another sip of butterbeer, and turned back to the dance floor right in time to see Dean kissing Seamus passionately in the middle of the room.

“And you are not dancing because…?” Parvati asked. Harry crossed his arms.

“If you’re here to make fun of me or to blow up my butterbeer, feel free to fuck off.”

Parvati chuckled. “Sorry about that. But seriously, why are you sitting here miserably after all those dance lessons?”

Harry tried to make out if she was actually serious or if this was her way to revenge herself for the Yule Ball.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked. Parvati narrowed her eyebrows, now visibly puzzled.

“No, I’m genuinely asking –”

“Well, it’s not that fucking easy to slow dance if you have no date, is it,” He said crossly.

Parvati gaped at him, but he was certainly not in the mood for this. It had cost him all his strength to not look for you in the crowd all evening, he did not need reminding of you not liking him back by Parvati.

Before she could say anything else, he placed his butterbeer bottle on the table and darted outside, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his suit and eyes directed to the floor.

Harry’s feet guided him towards the courtyard. The music played by the band wasn’t as loud out here, and the cold night air was lively in contrary to the sticky, perfumed air inside the Great Hall.

He kicked some of the grass away and walked towards the bench underneath the willow, watching how its branches weighed in the wind and thought how you were probably having as much fun as his friends, or maybe even more, considering Nott was infamous for snogging in various broom closets.

Harry’s stomach turned at the thought of that. He wished he had a time turner to make it right.

The moon stood high on the deep blue night sky, illuminating the courtyard you had unconsciously walked to. Grey clouds had approached, and tiny raindrops were falling to the ground, steadily drumming onto the roofs of Hogwarts.

On your way out of the Great Hall, you had caught a glimpse of Theodore sticking his tongue down the throat of that Ravenclaw girl, but to be honest, it didn’t matter that he was making out with someone else. It would’ve just been nice if you could have had a forewarning.

You thought you were the only single soul wandering about, then spotted a figure sitting on a bench. You were about to turn and search for some other place to wallow in your feelings, when you recognised the messy hair.

Maybe this was the time to make up for running away. Maybe this was the time to be honest.

Harry looked up when he noticed someone coming closer, the tulle of your dress rustling over the wet grass. His heart jumped and he forgot to breathe for a moment.

“Hello,” You said, voice echoing over the empty courtyard. “Can I sit?”

“Of course.”

Harry scooted to the side to make some space for you. You sat down next to him, leaving maybe a hand width between the two of you. The wide branches of the willow guided you from the cold rain.

“You weren’t dancing,” You said, staring at the grass instead of his face.

You would understand if he did not want to talk, if he just walked away. He didn’t owe you an explanation for why he had not asked you to the ball or why was sitting here instead of inside with Ginny or whoever he had asked.

“You weren’t either, were you?” Harry replied. “You and Nott.”

“No, he’s busy with someone else, so… no. Not dancing.”

“Oh.” Harry shuffled. His knee bumped against yours. “Well, he’s an idiot then.”

You smiled, not moving your knee away from his.

“Yeah…but I don’t mind, really.”

“You should,” Harry said, and he meant it. No one should be treated like that. “If anyone should be dancing, it’s you.”

You looked up at him. Harry was already watching you, and it filled you with warmth despite the freezing cold. There wasn’t a single sign of hurt on his face, just a soft curiosity lying in his green eyes.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, “for running away last Friday. I had to sort out some things.”

“What things?” He asked quietly.

“Some…” Your heartbeat sped up. Be honest, you told yourself. “Some feelings.”

“Oh.” Harry tried to figure out what you meant by that, but the way you looked at him made his mind go blank. “You mean you…”

“I really like dancing with you,” You said. Harry felt his heart beating faster than ever against his ribcage. He wondered if you could hear it. “And I wouldn’t have done those lessons with anyone.”

The music from inside the Great Hall was growing louder, overshadowing the rain; someone must’ve opened the doors to let in some fresh air. The band was playing a slower, French song and it stung in your heart. It was one of your favourites.

When you turned back to Harry, he was standing up. For a second you thought he wanted to leave, to go back inside, then –

“May I have this dance?” Harry held out is right hand, and you did not have to think twice if you should take it or not.

He helped you up from the bench and led into the middle of the lawn, the rain still pattering onto the grass and the stone tiles. It smelled strongly of petrichor, and you thought that this was much closer to spring than the decorations in the Great Hall.

Harry’s hand found its place on your back, pulling you closer to him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, tapping his skin with your finger in time to the music out of habit, and met his eyes, reflecting the moon light in them.

Had you ever told him how beautiful he was?

The two of you moved, swaying back and forth. Harry realised that he did not even need to concentrate on the steps, he knew them by heart. The closeness of you took his breath away, the way your fingers held onto his, the way there was little to no room between your torso and his. You were smiling at him, despite the cold and the rain. Harry felt his stomach tingling.

“What’s it called?” Harry asked quietly, not wanting to drown out the music.

“‘Je Te Laisserai Des Mots’. I’ll leave you words,” You translated, having memorised the lyrics in your mind. “I’ll leave you words underneath your door, underneath the singing moon. Near the place where your feet pass by…hidden in the holes of wintertime and when you’re alone for a moment.”

You paused and Harry’s eyes fell to his feet, not able to take your gaze any longer. There were words on the tip of his tongue he did not dare to say – afraid, to ruin the moment. He wanted to stay here forever.

“Eyes up,” You said, placing your hand underneath his chin to lift his head up.

More French words reached your ears; Harry figured they were the same sentence repeated over and over, but even if he had been able to understand French, he wouldn’t have been able to translate them because of your hand still resting under his chin.

“Kiss me whenever you want,” You whispered. “Kiss me whenever you want. Kiss me –”

And then, Harry let go of his fears and kissed you.

After all it still took you by surprise how he loosened his fingers from yours to cup your face, pulling you as close to him as possible, until there was no space in between, noses bumping against each other. Both of your hands slung themselves around his neck, caressing his skin and driving up through messy hair.

His lips matched yours, gliding smoothly over one another, smearing your lip gloss everywhere until all you tasted was strawberries and sweet alcohol. With his chest against yours, Harry was glad to notice your heart beating as fast as his did, though that was also because he really needed to breathe – not that he wanted to, he would have been totally okay with never breaking away from the kiss if it was always going to feel this soft and freeing.

It was you in the end that had to carefully pull his face away from yours, heavily breathing in and out. You brushed his wet hair out of his forehead and let your fingers slide over his temples and cheeks down to his neck.

“That offer,” Harry began breathlessly, tucking a strand of hair he had accidentally drawn from your pinned-up hair behind your ear, “about continuing the dance lessons…that still stands, right?”

Your lips curved upwards into a smile. “Of course.” 

“Brilliant,” Harry said, mirroring your smile before leaning down again to close the gap between your lips.

[amimimi]

sk8 boys would reacting to you pulling them in by their belt

synopsis: you pulling the sk8 babes in by their belts for a kiss

pairings: joe x reader, cherry x reader, reki x reader, langa x reader

warnings: kissing, suggestive themes, swearing

notes: not me just seeing this tiktok trend ...but thoughts are being thunk...❤️ also, i apologize in advance for any grammatical/spelling errors

word count: 1,930

JOE

this flirty ass b*tch 😒

he thinks he’s so smooth...and he is!

i see y’all bar hopping in the early talking stages of your relationship

so you’re seated the bar and you’re kinda annoyed because maybe there are a couple girls who come up to him and offer to buy him a drink? (of course they would, have you seen how he’s built?)

BUT THAT’S NOT EVEN THE BAD PART

this mf get’s up from his stool and starts FLIRTING BACK?? AND YOU’RE JUST SITTING THERE LIKE —🧍‍♀️

but then he turns back to you and see’s the displeased look on your face.

cue joe nervously laughing and gently shooing the other girls away

but you’re already pissed bc like? the nerve of him? and in front of you??

you stare straight past him, leaning your elbow up on the bar table as he stands in front of you. babbling out apologies(?)

if you can even call them that?

“babe, i’m sorry! you know it’s force of habit! i didn’t even get to see what they looked like! and they were being nice! what was I supposed to do? tell them to get gone? i was just being polite to them, i’m a feminist after all 😏—”

b*tch...what?

you feel like you’re getting dumber just listening to him

so you kinda tilt your head to look at him and let your hands settle on the front of his belt

his voice kinda tilts? like it slightly gets a just a bit higher ?

before he can even make a smart ass remark, you firmly tug him towards you and kiss him

he hums in surprise before chuckling into the kiss and bringing his warm, calloused hands up to your face

he pulls away and quickly pecks at your lips before playfully outing

“oof, so mean”

“but you like that” you reply before kissing him again

meanwhile, the bartender is watching yall like “😐😑😐”

REKI

like with joe, i imagine you pulling this stunt off in the beginning of your relationship

you and reki are in the little workshop behind his house doing normal relationship stuff

you know, reki working on a skateboard repair while you lovingly admire his side profile...yea ❤️

he’s so absorbed in his work, his eyebrows are furrowed every so slightly, and he’ll randomly clench his jaw and WOWOWOW HE LOOK SO GOOD!

you feel so blessed just being able to take this sight in

you’re watching him intently with your elbows propped up on the table and your face resting between your hands

reki’s in the middle of tightening the screws when he notices you looking out of his peripheral vision

he glances over to you and sees you staring at him

have y’all seen that meme of meghan markle at her wedding looking up at harry?

YEA, YEA you’re literally looking up at reki like that

and boy does reki get FLUSTERED

he tries to act cool about catching you staring but baby is blushing way too hard

“w-what?”, reki mentally kicks himself for stammering as he returns his focus to the skateboard

“you look really hot right now”

reki damn near chokes and his face gets even more red (if that’s even possible)

he turns his back to you to reach for a wrench on the wall adjacent to him

but he's trynna hide how hard he's blushing uwu

you're laughing now and the melodic sound makes the tension in reki’s shoulders dissipate

yea...y’all are whipped for each other

reki is pouting with his back to you, still “looking” for his wrench

when all of sudden, he feels your hands settle on his waist, urging him to turn around

"rekiiiiii", you playfully whine. "i can't admire my boyfriend?"

he's turning around to tell you that he's busy, but then your fingers hook onto his belt

and before his brain can compute what's happening, you're sharply tugging his belt and your mouth is on his, hot and heavy

and reki moans

and it's so high-pitched and so earnest and so loud, you almost want to giggle

but then his knees buckle and he kinda collapses forward into you

so y'all both kinda shuffle back, but reki manages to catch himself by wrapping his arms around you for support

you're about to pull away to ask if he's okay, but then he brings one hand up to your face and parts his mouth

and when you gasp against his mouth, he feels slightly relieved knowing his dignity has been saved somehow

reki pulls away first, panting, and rests his forehead against your collarbone, trying to hide his face again

"you suck" he murmurs into your chest, slightly dizzy

you hum contentedly, combing his hair back before kissing the top of his head

CHERRY

first of all, this mf is an aries (just when i thought he couldn’t get sexier)

and aries men...🥴

basically, you have to do a lot to actually fluster this man

so let’s say he takes you with him for a two-day work trip on a nearby island

while he works with his clients during the day, you busy yourself by wandering around the hotel or walking along the beach

basically, the only time the two of you have together is in the evening

it’s your last night before y’all have to return to okinawa

kaoru tells you to get dressed and takes you out to this expensive ass restaurant and he’s sooooo f*cking romantic

the love in his eyes,,,, his soft ass smile as he watches you ramble in between taking sips from your wine glass

he’s looking at you as you’re personally responsible for the sun rising each day

i mean, you could’ve been talking about how you saw a crab on the beach that was missing a leg, and kaoru would just be like “tell me more bby 🥰😍”

when y’all make it back to the hotel, you’re both a little tipsy (kaoru is more so buzzed)

you’re holding onto kaoru’s arm as you both take the elevator up to your hotel room

kaoru feels you slightly sway against him and he leans over to kiss the top of your head

“you alright, darling?” he murmurs into your hair

he takes your hand in his and runs the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand

and he does all of this while his lips are pressed against the top of your head— SIR PLS ✋😩

it’s an chaste act and you know he’s genuinely concerned but after two glasses of wine, your brain is just—🥴

hornknee thoughts only 😩💯

sloppily, you wiggle out of kaoru’s embrace before centering yourself in front of him with your hands placed on his chest

at your action, kaoru’s eyebrow raises ever so slightly but he keeps silent, slightly amused

“you’re so f*cking fine” you murmur, slightly smoothing your hands over kaoru’s chest, staring him right in eye

“oh?”

“yea, and you don’t even try. What’s that like?”

by now, kaoru’s softly smiling. “what’s what like, my love?”

“what’s it like to be so hot without even trying?”

and before ol boy can even reply to that, your hands find his belt before firmly pulling him in for a kiss

kaoru hums at the sudden jolt but then sighs appreciatively through his nose and wastes no time parting his mouth for you

b*tch, you’re the one who’s moaning skxhsnwje

still kissing you, he smooths your hair back with one hand before grabbing a fistful of your hair

he firmly yanks your hair back and deepens the kiss, and you just— 🤸‍♀️

the moan that elicits from you, is OTHERWORLDY

you feel the elevator roll to a stop

kaoru pulls back with a grin on his face and so much love in his eyes that you’re tempted to go in for round two

but then the elevator door slides open and he grabs your hand, tugging you into the hallways

as he leads you to the hotel room, kaoru slightly turns his head back to smile at you, with the same amount of love in his eyes

LANGA

i feel like langa may get flustered as easily as reki might, but he’s manages to be a lot more cool about it

which kinda drives you up the wall? you just wanna see your boyfriend embarrassed for once

all he does is slightly blush with a straight face and glance away

so let’s say he’s walking you home after you, him, and reki were hanging about at a skatepark

the sun had already set and langa is walking beside you with his skateboard under one arm.

the walk is pretty silent, but it’s a comfortable silence. langa finds that he and you can soak up each other’s presence without having to say a word

you see him jolt out of your peripheral vision and you’re like ???

before you can glance over and ask if he’s okay, he quickly grabs your hand

you glance up at him, confused, and he simply replies “i forgot to hold your hand, sorry”

langa wtf??

fighting back the urge to laugh, you squeeze his hand and tell him it’s fine

both of you share a soft smile, before the easy silence continues for the rest of the walk

when y’all arrive on your porch steps, you turn to him and thank him for walking you home

langa assures you it’s no problem before saying goodnight

he’s turns around and takes a couple steps away, when you clear your throat

he glances back at you, quizzically

you’re standing on the porch step, with your hands behind your back.

there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes

“aren’t you forgetting something?” you playfully chide him

langa: 😐😑😐

you can literally see the gears turning in langa’s head

“...did you want me to walk you to your bedroom?”

you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you, and langa feels his cheeks reddened slightly

“angel, no. I meant a goodnight kiss?”

“o-oh, right”

his brows furrowed slightly as he determinedly making his way over to you

he’s so—&:&72737

as he’s making his way over, an idea pops into your head and you kinda “>:3”

when langa is standing in front of you, your hands grip onto his belt and you yank him into a kiss

bby boy almost drops his skateboard

he quickly inhaled through his nose before giving a stuttered moan and you smile into the kiss

you’re standing on the first step to your porch so the added height is giving you more access

BITE HIS MFIN LIP! he will gasp so prettily into your mouth

entranced, he keeps leaning more and more forward, that is, until the back of your foot hits the step behind you

stumbling backwards, you fall back and pull langa along right with you

you fall right on your ass, yelping as you knock foreheads with langa as he falls into you

so now, you’re both left moaning, gripping your foreheads

“are you okay?” langa asks you, dropping his hand from his forehead revealing a red mark

you begin to laugh at the sight of it and langa just stares at you, confused but slightly defensive

“w-what?!”

“your forehead is red” you giggle

“well yea, you slammed your forehead into mine”

“you slammed your forehead into mine” you give him a quick peck on his lip before smoothing his hair hair back

“that looks like it’s gonna bruise,” you murmur and press a kiss to his forehead “I’ll get you some ice, come inside”

end notes: i wanted to get this out in time for cherry’s bday!