#st x harrys house

[satelliteddie]

love of my life - e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: after just barely surviving the upside down, eddie remains in hiding in a hotel room away from hawkins. he’s beginning to go stir crazy when his best friend finally comes to visit him.

content warnings: NSFW (18+) MDNI; smut with plot, idiots in love, mentions of injuries from S4, fix-it fic, (unprotected) piv sex, handjob/fingering, cream-pie, language, pet names, showering together, aftercare

word count: 6.1k sheesh I got carried away

author’s notes: this picks up right where S4 should have ended, with Eddie alive and in hiding ;) ahh he’s so pretty

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah

Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

Days seemed to stretch to unbelievable lengths as Eddie stared up at the monotone motel ceiling. He’d come close to counting every crack in the ceiling tiles — since he’d already counted all of them. 56 tiles. 13 have water stains. The group had promised Eddie it would only be a couple of days in this horrible room while they cleared his name. Escaping the Upside Down was nearly impossible as everyone was drained and some wounded. Eddie suffered from near-fatal bites from demo-bats, but once Steve and Dustin dragged him back to Hawkins to meet up with the rest of the group. Through all of it, all that consumed Eddie’s brain was finding you. Nancy, Robin, Dustin and Steve tried to convince him he needed to take care of himself first and hide away before anyone in Hawkins realized he was alive. Stupidly, he agreed to leave without seeing you one more time. It had been two days since then, the cheap motel on the edge of Lafayette, Indiana, was starting to feel like it was shrinking. The take-out boxes, dirty clothes, and cigarettes were beginning to pile up. Steve had gotten the room for Eddie and stayed with him the first day; Robin came the second day with beers in hand and a sympathetic smile. He appreciated both of them coming to see him, but truly Eddie just wanted you. He wanted to hold his best friend and see that she was alright. He wanted to tell you how he really felt, no more worrying about the what-if’s. He could care less about himself and what was going to happen to him…he just needed to know that you would be okay. He needed you. Eddie had been laying on the bed for hours, tossing up a rolled pair of socks at the ceiling. It kept his hands busy while his mind ran off coming up with endless ways for this all to end.

The third day seemed to be the longest so far, the rain pounding against the windows made it hard to tell what time it was. All the time alone, cut off from the outside world and his friends, reminded Eddie too much of the time on the run from the cops and Jason not too long ago. It was all building up in his head, the weight of running and the trauma he’s suffered settling on his shoulders. Even when Steve and Robin came to visit, the tension in his muscles remained and his mind was scattered. Logically everyone knew Eddie couldn’t stay at the hotel using someone else’s name forever, but it was as good as they could do for now to keep him away from Hawkins. The more hours that passed, the more time Eddie had to replay every second of his last week at home. Everything went to shit.

Take a walk on Sunday through the afternoon

We can always find something for us to do

We don't really like what's on the news, but it's on all the time

The muted TV buzzed in the corner of the room, tuned into whatever news channel was clear. Occasionally, news from Hawkins would make it to the mainstream news that was broadcasted here. That’s when Eddie would come face to face with his wanted poster — that now had turned into a ‘presumed dead’ poster. He never liked what was on the news, but it’s on all the time. Eddie’s tosses began to slow, becoming bored with the game he created; he chucked the balled up socks at the wall beside him, the cloth hitting the plaster with a thud. Footsteps splashed their way through the puddles on the outside of the motel room. Eddie shuffled off the bed, ducking behind the mattress to watch the shadows through the hotel curtains. He snatched the tv remote off the bedside table, the closest “weapon” he could find. Eddie’s eyes remained fixed on the room door, watching to see if the knob would move. Steve had told him that someone would be coming today at some point — could he be more vague? Eddie thought as he continued to watch the door. There were only two keys to the room, Eddie had one and the other was passed around the group to come visit. So, logically if the door opened without incident it was a member of the Party. The heavy hotel room door swung open just enough for a petite figure to slip inside, turning to shut and lock it while shaking the rain off their jacket. A black duffel bag fell to the floor near the door, while the figure turned around. The jacket hood slipped down, exposing hair and a face that Eddie knew better than his own.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie asks slowly rising from his hiding place. You turn to him, the worry in your eyes disappearing to be replaced with warmth. “You’re here,” he says as if the words will convince him you’re not just a figment of his imagination.

“I’m here,” you respond, taking careful steps away from the door. The hotel room is stale, cold, and dim, but when looking at Eddie it feels like you could be on a beach in the Caribbean. He radiates everything good and warm.

Eddie drops the remote from his grasp, fumbling his way around the bed to scoop you into him. He wraps his arms around your torso, lifting you off the ground as you cling around his neck. Three days without seeing each other felt like a lifetime — what you both experienced was enough to last a lifetime anyways. You’re not sure how long you stay with your arms around Eddie’s neck, your fingers combing over his curls. Slowly, Eddie lowers you back to the floor moving his hands away from your waist to hold your face in them. You raise your much smaller hands to lay over top of his on your cheeks. Eddie seems to be bursting at the seams, a smirk stuck on his face and his eyes are the color of the perfect cup of coffee.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, your eyes lingering on the healing gashes on his neck and face.

Eddie’s smirk morphs into a full grin, “yeah, I’m okay now.” He can’t resist the urge to plant a kiss on your forehead, so he presses his lips against your skin. The stress in his muscles dissipates as he holds you close to him, Eddie’s mind is muted and all that remains is his love for you.

I take you with me every time I go away

In a hotel, using someone else's name

I remember back at Jonny's place, it's not the same anymore

Reluctantly, Eddie lets you go to retrieve the duffle from the door. You grab the bag and toss it onto the bed, “I tried to get whatever I could from the trailer.” Laying out the contents across the comforter: Eddie’s D&D campaign notebooks, music tapes and walkman, Lord of the Rings books, old music journals, and any other distractions you could reach — anything from the trailer that would make him feel at home.

“I bought canned foods,” you place the cans on the bedside table. “But I just wanted to bring you some stuff from home too.”

Eddie lingers near the end of the bed, silently reaching and brushing his fingers over the books you brought him. He reaches for a tattered leather journal that held ideas for new Corroded Coffin music. You had spent endless nights in Eddie’s room, sprawled out on the bed watching contently as he scribbled in the pages. He would never let you read the songs, shielding the words from you as he wrote. You would lay with your head in your hands, hoping the songs he wrote were about you. The truth was, most of them were about you — you had slowly become Eddie’s muse. You and Eddie both had fallen into the cliche of best friends who don’t realize they’re both in love, and are too worried to say anything. So the two of you had succumbed to a comfortable rhythm with lingering touches and longing stares. Eddie would constantly think of you whenever you two were apart, especially over these last three days. He replayed moments spent together, the ones only the two of you shared… singing in his room, watching the sunset at Lover’s Lake, creating new campaigns at Skull Rock, and all those other private moments he cherished. He took you with him every time he went away. It didn’t matter how far or for how long.

“I- thank you,” Eddie clutches the journal to his chest, his eyes misty. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” He kneels down on the mattress, pushing all of his things closer to him. Eddie rubs a rough hand over his face, sniffling and trying to suppress his tears. His hands shake as he wipes away the tears that manage to escape.

“I’m so sorry Eds,” you sit down on the bed amongst all his things. You reach out and place your hand on his thigh,  “you don’t deserve any of this. This isn’t fair to you.”

Eddie sighs and drops his hands to hold yours, his eyes are bloodshot and wet as he looks back at you. “You don’t deserve this either, sweetheart. Yet, here we are.�� A bitter laugh comes from him as he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand.

Eddie carried so much guilt along with his own trauma from the last couple of days, he didn’t know how to even begin processing it. Being Eddie’s best friend caused you to be roped into everything. Which meant when Eddie went missing, Max and Dustin’s first stop was at your house. Immediately you believed the children, that you had spent very little time with, but knew they had Eddie’s best interest in mind. That’s when Dustin, Steve, Max, and Robin sat you down to explain just how bad things were going to get for Eddie. Had he not tried to help Chrissy or run off, maybe Eddie could have protected you from the Upside Down and his own personal demise. Over the last three days by himself, Eddie tried to imagine what it would have been like. Maybe he would have been safe and completely clueless of the alternate universe, all with you by his side. Instead now he was sitting on a musty hotel bed, eating out of tin cans while you still cared for him as if nothing had changed. Everything was falling apart around you, even though you trudged on as if the world wasn’t ending and Eddie wasn’t a wanted criminal. He could swear you still looked at him like he hung the moon.

Maybe he was reading things wrong, or maybe he just didn’t care, but Eddie knew he had to tell you how he felt before it was all too late. There were too many close calls in the last week for him to count; each one nudging him closer to confessing his feelings for you like he was written into a Shakespearean Tragedy. Silence had settled in the motel room, you rubbing along Eddie’s knuckles and twisting his rings around his fingers occasionally. Eddie knew you were doing it to calm yourself more than him, but there was something so endearing about the way your hands fit perfectly in his. Eventually after the silence began to stretch, you stood from the bed and started collecting discarded wrappers and cigarette butts. Truly keeping the hotel room clean wouldn’t make a huge difference, but you wanted to try to keep Eddie as comfortable as you could. A clean room, things from home, and your presence was as good as you could do for now.

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah

Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

It's not what I wanted, to leave you behind

Don't know where you'll land when you fly

But, baby, you were the love of my life

“Yknow,” Eddie hesitates, messing with the rings on his fingers and missing the way your hands felt in his. “I’m so in love with you,” he says just above a whisper. You stop your cleaning of the hotel room to look at Eddie. He sits cross-legged on the bed, his shoes tossed aside, denim jeans and Hellfire shirt bunched from his position. You move slowly to the edge of the bed, sinking down to sit near him.

Eddie sniffles, rubbing a hand over his face before continuing, “I- I know it’s not fair to tell you that now. Fuck.” Eddie’s heart slams against his chest, the confession weighing heavy on him. “I wasted so much time in my own head, but then all of this? How could I not tell you…I just love you so much.”

You reach out to rest a hand on his lap, “Eddie-”

“No,” he raises a hand to stop you, his eyes pleading. “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t want you to say something you’ll regret. I just needed you to know you were the love of my life.”

You feel as if your ribs have been cracked open, your heart on full display, “were?”

“I’m still so painfully in love with you,” Eddie looks down at his hands again. “But this is no life for you. Living out of duffle bags and eating cold mush from tin cans. I know the trailer wasn’t much better, but Christ- at least it was a home.”

“Eddie,” you try to speak again. “I don’t care where we are. As long as I’m with you.” You rest your hand on his thigh, rubbing your thumb over his jeans. Fear has lingered in Eddie’s eyes for the last few days, but you could swear he’s never looked more scared than he does right now. Your eyes have gone misty as you watch your best friend mumble into his lap, replaying every word he just spoke.

“I think I’ve loved you for longer than I even knew,” Eddie sniffles, twirling a ring around his middle finger. Eddie reaches for his song book from where you placed it on the bedside table, “I didn’t even realize it at first.” He flips through the worn pages once before setting it back down, “I just started thinking about you, then I would write about you. I couldn’t stop. I’m so stupid– fuck. What idiot falls in love with their best friend?”

You know the question is rhetorical, yet you can’t help but answer anyway. “I guess that makes me an idiot, too.”

The fear in Eddie’s chocolate eyes melts into what looks like a mixture of hope and admiration. His hand is hesitant as he reaches for the crook of your elbow; you can tell from his movements he wants you closer, but doesn’t want you to run off. You take it upon yourself to raise on your knees, crawling over to him as Eddie keeps his hand on your arm. Eddie uncrosses his legs while he leans back on the headboard, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he watches you. You straddle his legs, sitting down on his lap and clasping your hands behind his head. You stroke your fingers through his curls while his breathing remains uneasy. Eddie’s deep brown eyes trail up from your connected waists to find your eyes. Your fingers ghosting over the skin of his neck, your index finger running over the bruised skin near his pulse point. He had nearly died three days ago from injuries from the demo-bats, but he lived and had the scars to prove it. You lean forward and place a gentle kiss on the healing wound, your movements are tender and soft.  Every breath you take has matched the rhythm of Eddie’s: slow and nervous.

“Eddie,” you repeat his name again. You take a deep breath, “tell me to stop.”

“No- no,” Eddie jolts, placing his hands on your hips to ground you onto him. “I’ve just- I have thought about this for so long. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

“You won’t, we won’t. ” you insist, twirling one of his curls around your finger. “I want you Eddie, I always have.”

It's unfortunate

Just coordinates

Eddie lunges forward to capture your lips with his. The kiss feels like the catalyst of the last few years of pining; it's clumsy and wet, but somehow perfect. The cool rings that cover Eddie’s fingers dig into your hips as he grips you closer to him. Eddie brushes his tongue against your lips gently causing you to open your mouth with a soft moan.

“Eds–” you mumble against his mouth, but Eddie doesn’t answer. He's too fixated on how you feel against him. The rubbing of your jeans against his, your hands in his hair, your mouth meshed with his. You grind your hips down in a swift circular motion, earning a groan from Eddie. You use the break in the kiss to move your mouth over the stubble on his jaw and down his neck. His skin is warm against your mouth, trailing your lips up to the junction between his jaw and ear. You suck gently, grazing your teeth over his soft skin to mark him. Mine. Your hands still remain tangled in his curls, lightly tugging at the roots while your hips continue to move against him. Eddie’s length swells beneath you, his cock pressing against your warmth as you grind on his jeans.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie pants, squeezing your hips. You pull back from his neck with a grin, tilting your face as you look at him. “Jesus– fuck. We need these off.” Eddie slips his fingers under the seam of your tee shirt, pulling the fabric over your face and tossing it behind you. He traces the edge of your bra with his fingers, the lace tickling your skin as he does. In one swift motion, Eddie flips you onto your back attaching his lips to your newly exposed skin. He trails open mouth kisses down the center of your chest to the edge of your jeans. His cool fingers play with the button on your pants for a moment before he undoes them and ditches the denim behind him on the floor.

“Perfect,” Eddie comments as his eyes scan over your body only left in your underwear. Your cheeks flush, feeling self conscious under his stare. You’ve been in bathing suits, hell even your underwear, in front of Eddie countless times…but this is different. It’s raw, intimate and it’s changing everything. “Look at me, Princess.”

You hesitate to bring your gaze back to Eddie, but when you do his face splits into an even more bashful grin. “You’re so perfect.”

“Eddie,” is all you’re able to say before his mouth meets yours again. Eddie kisses you like he’s trying to make up for lost time while also trying to take things slow enough to memorize them. He moves his lips away from yours to leave sloppy kisses on the base of your neck. Your fingers tangle in his hair again, tugging him away from your skin to get him to look at you.

“You’re wearing too much,” you protest with a smile. Your small hands play with the latch on his belt, urging it open. A deep chuckle comes from Eddie as he watches you try and push his jeans down. He lifts off of you momentarily, which causes you to whine. The noise is so pretty, Eddie is sure he could cum from the sound alone. Leaning back on his knees, Eddie pulls his tee over his head ruffling his curls in the process. You lean forward to brush the hair away from his face, tucking a stray piece behind his ears. Immediately Eddie softens, his cheeks blushing to match yours. Eddie’s flustered under your gaze; he’s never had someone look at him the way you do. You’re giving him the look again where it seems like he hung the moon — and it’s because you do believe it. You just need him to believe it too. Your gentle fingers dip over the lines on his torso, gracing carefully over the bandages clinging to his skin. The soft white gauze covers his side and a few smaller bandages cling to his chest; you knew he was injured, but seeing the wounds for yourself is daunting.

You run a finger over the larger bandage on his left side. Your mind races as you look back at him, “are you sure you’re okay to-”

“Yes,” Eddie replies before you can finish your question. His eyes linger on your hands on his torso. He knows what you’re asking…and logically he should rest and not stress his recovering body. But he’ll be damned if he lets the Upside Down take this moment too.

I don't know you half as well as all my friends

I won't pretend that I've been doing everything I can

To get to know your creases and your ends

Are they the same?

The rest of your clothes and Eddie’s are off in a flash being tossed to the floor without a second thought. Eddie’s hands roam over the soft expanses of your skin, basking in every piece of your body and how it feels under his touch. He tries to memorize this feeling — he’s doing everything he can to get to know your creases, dimples, freckles. Everything. You squirm under him, moving your hands up and down Eddie’s biceps as he traces your skin. He drags his cool rings over the valley between your breasts before cupping your cheek, a smirk still pulling at his lips. Eddie presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth while rolling his hips into yours. A gasp falls from your lips as you feel his length rub against you; Eddie continues to move his hips while you reach between your close bodies. Your hands reach his cock, stroking it once as Eddie moans your name into the crook of your neck. You continue to work your hand over him, pumping at an excruciating pace. Eddie’s hair tickles your neck as he hangs his head, panting from your touch. Subconsciously, you rub your thighs together desperate for any type of friction. Eddie feels you shift under him, trying to relieve the tension building in your cunt. As much as Eddie would love to see you come undone just from touching him and the slow rubbing of your thighs — he can’t have you doing everything on your own. He pushes away from where his hands are gripping the bed sheets to slip between your legs. You moan as Eddie reaches your clit, rubbing slow circles against the bundle of nerves.

“Need, I- I need,” your thoughts are jumbled as Eddie’s fingers work and you continue to palm his length.

“C’mon pretty,” Eddie coos, finally lifting his head away from your neck to look at you. “Tell me what you need. Anything you want, Princess. Name it.”

“I need you, Teddy,” you lock your focus on Eddie’s deep eyes. His hungry and lustful demeanor softens, leaning down to kiss you slow and sweet. His fingers never stop their motions on your folds, but they slow down as Eddie deepens the kiss. He sucks and nips at your bottom lip, trying desperately not to smile and break the kiss. Eddie’s heart and mind still can’t keep up with the fact that you’re here. She’s mine, he thinks while finally pulling away. Your eyes roll back as Eddie moves his hand deeper into your folds, curling two digits into your pussy.

“You’re the only person,” Eddie plants more kisses on your collarbone in between his words. “That I’ll- shit- I’ll ever allow to use that name.”

“Yeah?” You ask, moving your hand lower on his bulge to carefully brush your fingertips over his balls.

Eddie groans at your movements, he could burst into your hand right now if you kept touching him like this. “God- fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.”

You grin at his words and respond with a simple: “show me.”

Eddie shakes his head with a coy smile, pulling his hand away from your center and moving yours away from his length. You simply move your hands from between you to drape them around Eddie’s neck. Eddie lowers himself down to his forearms, brushing his cock against your sensitive bud as he moves. He doesn’t waste time capturing your lips again while he sinks into your cunt, both of you moaning at the feeling. Your eyes have fluttered shut as Eddie continues to nip and kiss your mouth. He’s only half way in, easing himself at a slow pace, “you still with me?”

“No,” you sarcastically quip back. Your eyes are heavy, but you open them to look at Eddie. “Keep going, I’m okay.”

Eddie nods quickly, pushing forward on his forearms; every inch of Eddie’s length sinks into you as he continues to press kisses along your jaw. He stills inside you for a moment as you move your hands carefully around his bandages to grip his back. Eddie rolls his hips panting against your skin as he clings to you; his right hand grips the cheap hotel sheets while his left presses into the dip of your thigh. Definitely creating a bruise. Eddie finds his rhythm quickly, every inch of his skin slapping against yours as he thrusts in and out of you. You moan into his shoulder, gripping his back and pulling his hips closer with your legs. Eddie hangs his head near your chest, licking and gently biting at your nipples. He glances down between your two bodies to watch where you’re connected; he wants to see what’s his. Eddie moans as he sees his own cock disappear into your wet walls, sliding in and out with ease.

“Jesus H–” Eddie curses, stuck in a trance as he continues to watch. “I’m not gonna last long.”

“Eddie,” you pant, placing wet kisses on his broad shoulder. “Eddie, I meant what I said–”

Your mind is complete mush as he relentlessly pounds into you, but you know you have to tell him. You have to make sure he knows.

“What?” He lifts his head from where it's been hanging on your chest. His dark brown eyes roam over your face, raising an eyebrow as he looks at you. “I-” you struggle to find your words as your core pulses over Eddie’s cock. You clench your walls around him and Eddie stifles a moan into your chest, hanging his head down again. His hips slam into you, never letting up as the two of you grow closer to your climax. “Eddie,” you urge him to look at you again. “I love you.”

“Oh god,” Eddie growls, surging forward to capture your mouth with his. His lips melt into yours like the final two pieces of a puzzle. Your moans continue to break through the kiss, but Eddie isn’t phased in the slightest. He kisses you like a man possessed as his hips continue to thrust into you. Mindlessly, you clench your soft walls around Eddie’s length again just as your fingers scrape against the toned muscles of his back. Eddie pulls away from your mouth with a sloppy, wet smile, “Fuck- I love you.”

You feel your core tighten at his words, Eddie’s cock pulsing inside of you, both of you nearing release. You feel like you’re melting into the sheets, Eddie’s slick body shaking above you as his mouth hangs open. Eddie’s hips have fallen into a hurried pace, chasing his high while you fall apart under him. You trail your fingers away from his sides, gripping the roots of Eddie’s curls near the nape of his neck. “I love you,” you repeat the words to Eddie, feeling your climax approaching fast. Eddie continues to fuck you with every ounce of him, moaning over and over as you come undone. Your eyes roll back as you pulse around Eddie, falling limp on the sheets with shaky legs. Eddie keeps his pace throughout your high, riding you through it.

“Teddy,” you mumble in a haze. Your vision clears as you reach for his jawline, stroking your thumb over his plush lips. “Come for me, please. Need to feel you.” You beg as if you're asking for your own orgasm; you just need to see Eddie while he spills into you. His lips parted, pupils blown, hair matted to his skin from sweat, the bandages on his body contrasting his warm skin. Yet, he’s never looked more perfect than he does right now.

“Shit- shit,” Eddie curses, his hips snapping once more into your dripping cunt before he releases himself into you. Eddie cums harder than he ever has, collapsing down onto your chest muttering: “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You brush your fingers through his hair softly, moving away his sweaty bangs to press a kiss to his forehead. Your chests stick together as you try to sync your breathing; Eddie continues to mumble sweet praises into your skin, pressing kisses on any part he can reach. Reluctantly, Eddie leans away from you pulling out his softening length as you whine from the loss of contact. He sits back on his knees, “holy shit.” Eddie watches your puffy clit and folds clench, his cum dripping from you while mixed with your own arousal. You whine again as Eddie lifts off the bed, leaving you overstimulated and fucked-out.

“No-” you pout, opening your eyes slowly.

“I know, sweetheart. Give me a second, I’m coming right back.”

Eddie walks away from the bed, his naked body is blurry as your eyes struggle to stay open. Moments later, the bed dips as Eddie scoops his arms under you, lifting you off the sheets and carrying you to the small hotel bathroom. The lull of running water fills the room, fog building up inside the bathroom. Eddie presses a small kiss to your hairline before setting you down on the bathmat near the shower. A comfortable silence falls between you and Eddie, he steps under the shower offering his hand to you. You smile and grab his hand, holding onto him as you both stand under the spray. Eddie takes his time rinsing you off, washing your hair and body; his touches are slow, but purposeful. You turn in Eddie’s arms as he finishes your hair, looking up at him as water droplets catch on your eyelashes.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you trace the edge of his large bandage on his ribs, carefully pulling away the padding. Using a feather-light touch, you pull off the other gauze pads and gently rinse Eddie’s healing sides. He hisses as the water splashes some of the sore spots, gripping your arm for balance.

“Sorry-” he stutters, turning his gaze down to the tub floor.

“Don’t. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Eddie's timid eyes find yours again as he watches you clean and care for each of his wounds. You use your cupped hands to run the water over his skin, trying to avoid any unnecessary pain. After a few more minutes, Eddie turns the water off and opens the shower curtain. The bathroom is filled with so much steam you can barely see two feet in front of you. Eddie reaches for a towel, draping it over your shoulders and poking your nose. You scrunch the tip of your nose, sticking out your tongue as he smirks.

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah

Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

It's not what I wanted, to leave you behind

Don't know where you'll land when you fly

But, baby, you were the love of my life

You tend to each of Eddie’s injuries with cautious movements and extra care. He finally gave in and sat down on the toilet, his towel wrapped snugly around his waist. Occasionally, you have him lift his arms to get a better look at the healing scars before covering them with clean bandages. It only takes a couple of minutes to replace them all and cover each with ointments, but Eddie feels like his mind is slowing down every moment with you — he wants to savor every second before you have to leave him again. He didn’t want to leave you behind, but he had no choice. Just like you had no choice but to keep him far away from Hawkins.  Eddie’s eyes are heavy by the time you finish patching him up, he nearly falls forward half asleep. He’s been on the run for so long at this point that he hasn’t had a moment to truly rest. His nights have been sleepless and nightmare filled; his days are full of his face on the news, and horrifying updates on everything and everyone in his hometown. Yet, as soon as you came through his doorway today he felt like he could finally breathe. Eddie doesn’t realize he’s been staring into space until you wave a slow hand in front of him, “Eddie?”

“Tired,” is all he manages to say before rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. You offer him a weak smile and tug him out of the bathroom. Eddie plops down on the bed, towel hanging dangerously low on his hips; his happy trail even more visible as Eddie dramatically stretches. You press a quick kiss to the pudge of his lower belly, butterflies erupting in his chest as you continue to act so tenderly. He opens his eyes again to find you offering him a clean pair of boxers. After a second of contemplation, Eddie takes the clothes and slips them on before crawling under the covers. He lays sprawled on his back, left arm tucked under his head while the right stays wide open, inviting you in. You slip under the comforter with him, nuzzling into his side without any hesitation. Eddie tries not to stare too long at the fact that you’re finally wearing his shirt. He had foolishly dreamt of the day you would wear his clothes, and not just in a best friend-in-need-of-clothes-way. But rather in a domestic, romantic sense that makes Eddie all fuzzy inside.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Eddie confesses, staring down at you. You’ve successfully curled yourself into his side, getting as close as humanly possible.

Your small fingers trace shapes onto the tattooed portions of Eddie’s skin, “I don’t either.”

“Wish we could just run away from this fucking town.”

“Me too,” you admit, but quickly feel the guilt. “We just can’t leave them.” You press a kiss to the side of his ribs, just above the bandage.

Eddie doesn’t respond because he knows you’re right, but he just wishes for once he could run and it would be for a good reason… to save you. His fingers start to mimic the shapes you’ve made on his skin as Eddie runs his hands up and down your back.

“As soon as we know everyone is safe, we’ll run,” you promise, resting your chin on his chest to fully look at him. Eddie nods, his eyes feeling heavy once again and his body finally feeling peace.

“Rest baby,” you say just as Eddie starts to let the sleep take over. “Go to sleep and we’ll run away in the morning.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Eddie mumbles with his eyes still shut.

“You didn’t ask me,” you remind him. “I offered.”

You press one more kiss to the sensitive scar near his pulse point on his neck before settling into his side. You’re not sure if you will run away in the morning, or at all, but if it’ll get Eddie to finally rest you’ll tell him whatever you can. The world around you is so unsure and dangerous that it doesn’t matter what your plans are for the next day — it could all change in an instant. So instead of worrying about plans, monsters, or alternate universes, you enjoy this moment.

Eddie mutters a quick and quiet: “I love you” before he finally slips into a peaceful rest, feeling safe and content with you tucked into his side. You smile up at him even though he’s already asleep before you answer.

“You’ve always been the love of my life, Eddie.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

ahhh the last of the harrys house series :( thank you all for the love on these, its been so amazing to see everyone’s reactions to all of them xx

to find the rest of the series click here

✭masterlist  ✭ requests

-meg

[limeade-l3sbian]

Who was Kagney Linn Necessary?

(the gofundme for her memorial/funeral will be at the end.)

Kagney Linn Necessary was born in Harris County, Texas in 1987, and raised in St. Joseph, Missouri and in Ridgway, Pennsylvania. [x]

In her early years, she moved to California with ambitions of becoming an actress and a singer but entered work as an exotic dancer before signing with LA Direct Models, a pornographic agency. Karter entered the adult film industry in September 2008.[x]

But that wasn't the entirety of who Kagney was. At face value, the only information I could find with a quick search was the basic information above from Wikipedia. All anyone seemed to know about her was who she was when she was in the "industry." I wanted to see what I could find about her, the person. Not Kagney Linn Karter, but Kagney Linn Necessary.

I raked through interviews she had, her personal social media accounts, and any other articles that I could find just to find any little facts about her that I could.

I thought about omitting her time within the porn industry to focus solely on everything else except that. But I feel it would be tasteless to keep it out. I think it needs to be mentioned. I think it is important to show that women pulled into the porn industry are not these separate beings from any other woman with dreams. This was a 36 year old woman who was just like any other woman who was preyed upon.

Necessary released an EP, The Crossover, in 2018. In 2022, Karter released her debut album, titled The Take Over. [x] She would post clips of her singing covers of songs as well as songs from her upcoming EP on her Instagram.

In 2022, she began learning how to play the piano, even posting a video of her progress.

Necessary was also a recovering addict. In 2021, she posted about the things that helped her stay clean and how she was pleased at having a second chance at life. In an interview, she was intentionally vague about the substances she used, only referring to them as "candy" and "a little bit of everything." But with no insurance or money for rehab, she opted to detox herself at her parents home, working at their tanning salon for free in exchange for "produce."

She moved from Los Angeles to Ohio in 2019 and got involved with pole dancing fitness studios before being involved the opening of one in Akron, called Alchemy Pole Fitness. She posted many videos of herself having fun and practicing new/old moves.

In November 2023, she was posting pictures of her new house and how well it was coming together,

[their website leads to a website called Alchemy Space Studios and says that it was founded and run by a separate woman. But upon looking up the LLC for the business, Kagney is named as the registrant and she is named as the owner of the space in two separate articles.]

In 2015, Carter claimed musician Chris Brown paid her $2,500 to be his escort. She reportedly tweeted things like 'I WILL NEVER F*** A WOMAN BEATER EW DISGUSTING' and 'HE IS PURE EVIL' about Brown.

I just felt like adding that because what a queen.

From her students from the studio and friends, she was known to love animals, including her dog, Murphy, and had a deep devotion to the community she was cultivating in Ohio. She was known to be fearless and empathetic, creating her studio as a place for people to feel safe and accepted.

These were the things I could find of her from her personal accounts and the people who loved her. She wasn't an object that will be missed for what "uses" it had. She was a woman who had dreams, who had a community who love her, who had a husband who loves her, dogs she cared for and loved who loved her, and a mother who loves her. I didn't want her story to be another reblog of a lost life.

I know this post is sporadic and clunky, but I wanted to just grab any information I could without crossing boundaries (ex. contacting the family or something tasteless like that). I just wanted to share what she had already shared with the world.

Her friend, Megan Lee, has posted a gofundme that has already surpassed their goal. But I would still suggest donating if you are able. Rest in peace, Kagney Linn Necessary. 💜

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (II) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Getting acquainted with Regulus was inevitable, but your relationship only continues to grow as you figure out a way for your friendship to outlast the closing summer break.

Part I / Part III / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Harry's arrival. Regulus is warming up to Y/N. Little cliffhanger at the end.

It was an ingenious idea.

"That is certainly an idea."

Regulus was very much trying to be supportive of your plans, but you could see the veiled apprehension in his gaze.

Over the summer, you were able to bond with him over the traumas of your life. You were proudly on day 34 of friendship.

In a way, he had become your closest acquaintance in the absence of Harry.

Regulus was endlessly fascinated by Harry when you had explained the lore of the poor boy's life. You would pay a good sum of your inheritance to see the gobsmacked look on his face again after you told him Harry was famous for surviving the Killing Curse.

"Calm your horses, Reg. It will be fine. I wouldn't risk such a thing if I weren't confident."

"Oh, it's not your confidence I doubt," his curls bounced ever so slightly as he shook his head, "I'm just hoping that you aren't in over your head here."

"It will be fine. I have this thing where I am averse to killing friends."

"Friends?-"

Before Regulus could finish, you whipped out your wand and murmured a firm reducio.

His painting gave the faintest quake before quickly shrinking on the floor.

"Reg? Are you okay?"

"Fine. Everything is just humongous now. But I'm no more cramped than I was before."

You pick up the small frame, brushing your thumb over the gold edge. Regulus‘ painting was now quaint enough to fit in the palm of your hand, his shrunken figure gazing up at you in relief.

"See, I told you. Everything's fine. Now I can take you with me everywhere I go."

His eyes glimmer in pleasure at the prospect of actually be able to see the outside world.

"I concede, you were right. However, in the event that you die, what will happen to me? Merlin forbid they bury me with you."

Regulus made it a point to bring up your almost imminent demise at every chance he could, strongly disapproving of your close association with the Dark Lord's current greatest adversary.

It was funny to think the greatest threat to the Dark Lord's reign was a group of teenagers struggling in Arithmancy.

"Don't worry, I'll look up some kind of rune to transport you to a safe place in the event that I am slaughtered. Though, you should have more faith in me, Harry and I have managed to survive a lot of unimaginable things."

"None of which even scratch the surface of the Dark Lord's power."

"Yeah, yeah, but I'm less concerned about the Dark Lord and more concerned about the Ministry. They're completely defaming Harry and I have half the mind to march on in to Fudge's office and slap him."

Regulus let out a noise of amusement and you began to fiddle with your wand in contemplation.

"Hey Reg, do you know anything that could allow you to communicate with me without giving away your whole predicament? I think I'll be shipped off on the first carriage to St. Mungo's if someone catches me talking to myself."

You were hesitant to tell anyone about your summer discovery, but Regulus was vehemently against it. He told you that telling others of his existence would only give him a headache, and you had a creeping suspicion he wasn't on the best of terms with the Dark Lord and his followers or his brother.

"There might be something in my room. I was researching various concealment charms before I died. For now, I'll just remain silent until you address me first."

A warm feeling beat at your chest. Regulus had never outright told you, but you knew that he trusted you and even liked you enough to agree to stick around.

It was probably due to your unrelenting honesty and efforts to make it clear that you didn't hate him for his past juvenile decisions.

Though, he was still quite secretive about his past.

"Well, off we go then. And Reg?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks." For trusting me and for being my friend.

"Think nothing of it."

Brushing Reg's frame one last time, you slip the small item into a wide pocket inside your jacket.

You huff out a heavy sigh and make your way out of the room, slowly cracking the door open. As you peered out into the hall, you let relief wash over you as you realized the coast was clear.

Slowly shutting the door behind you, letting it warp and disappear, you bound down the staircase and towards the end of the hall on the second floor.

You stopped a few paces away from your destination, taking in the sight of the worn door. It felt almost like you were about to cross the threshold into somewhere sacred.

"Y/N! There you are, we've been looking for you! What are you doing?" You curse silently under your breath, spinning on your heel and away from Regulus‘ bedroom door.

Hermione and Ron were looking at you expectantly, confusion flitting in their eyes at your recent reclusiveness and secrecy.

"I was just exploring."

"Near that door?" Ron's voice was coated in a mixture of disbelief and pride, approving of your sudden mischievous nature.

"Yeah, I mean I've always liked a good mystery. Though...keep it a secret for me? I don't want to sit through Sirius‘ lecturing."

This time it was Hermione who spoke, a sudden glint of excitement sharpening in her gaze, "No matter about that! We heard from the adults that Harry should be arriving soon!"

You broke out into a grin at the news, though your eyebrows began to furrow as you let the information stew in your head.

"Wait. Why now? Did something happen? Dumbledore would never allow it unless something urgent occurred."

Hermione and Ron exchange a serious look and a sinking feeling drags down your middle.

It is not until they drag you into your shared room that you're informed of the news, and you honestly could not be less surprised.

Chaos followed Harry everywhere, and a Dementor attack happened to fall into the ‘shit that only happens to Harry‘ category of life.

Harry arrived less than an hour after you received the news, and you could see the relief flood into his eyes as he realized you were all there waiting for him.

You let Hermione and Ron smother him in their hugs before you're up on your feet and gently patting his back, his face shoved into your shoulder as his whole body sagged.

"I'm glad you're here now, Harry. Dumbledore forbade all methods of communication with you, and he's unfortunately methodical. I tried just about everything to reach you."

The tired boy nods at your explanation, clearly still in shock at the events that unfolded to properly react.

You were beginning to relax against Harry until a sudden pop had you gripping your chest painfully.

The bloody twins and their bloody apparition.

"Fred! George! I swear I'm going to castrate you one of these days!"

You were still quite irked with the twins even after they apologized to you and formulated a plan to make up for the scare.

They thought it would be lightwork to use an extendable ear product of theirs to listen in on the meeting going on in the kitchen downstairs.

"As lovely as that sounds, I have to finish reading up for the summer."

"Blimey, Y/N. Don't tell me you're turning into Hermione."

"Well I think that's great, Y/N. And if you bothered to do what we were doing, Ronald, maybe you wouldn't have to ask for our notes every year."

You quickly flee the scene as the others were distracted, shutting the door quietly and striding towards Regulus‘ room down the hall.

Without hesitating like last time, you hurriedly twist the creaky knob and fling yourself into the room, not giving anyone the opportunity to catch you sneaking around.

"Okay, Reg. We're alone now. Sorry I couldn't leave sooner, I'm sure it was a bore for you."

You fetch the portrait from the inside of your jacket, grinning down at the pretty boy who was looking back at you passively.

"It was quite entertaining. It's better than the usual empty silence I'm used to."

"Right...I'm glad. Well, where do you keep your charms books at?"

"Left trunk underneath the bed. The green one."

You place the small painting down on the tableside next to his bed, propping it up against a dust-coated lamp. You heave the trunk out and let out a small exhale from the effort, nimbly unclasping it and flipping it open.

The sight of rows of books greeted you and you had to hold in a gasp at the wide collection and their near pristine quality.

Advanced Charm Casting

Chadwick's Charms Vol. III

Charms and Their Origins

The Dark Forces: Praesidium Carmina and Spells

"Wow. You have quite the selection. Praesidium Carmina?"

"It's latin for protection charms. There should be a few handy charms in there, but I didn't get to finish it so you'll have to read it thoroughly yourself."

You run a finger down the spine of the book appreciatively, grinning at the boy like a child finding a chest of candy.

"Reg, you are truly amazing."

"You can keep it. You can take all of them if you wish."

Your mouth falls open at his words, a pleased expression falling over your face. Regulus, for the most part, looked unaffected by your touched demeanor, but you could see a self-satisfied smile tug at his lips.

"Are you sure, Reg? These look precious."

"They are. But I have no use for them nor does Sirius. Besides, I can trust that you'll use them well."

"Wow. This is the first gift you've given me. You know this means that our friendship has entered the next level, right?"

Regulus shakes his head in amusement, smiling at your enthusiasm.

"And how would you define this new level of friendship, dear Y/N?"

"Well, we're like a couple secrets away from being best friends. Sorry though, I don't really know how I could give you an actual gift."

Regulus seems to consider this for a few moments, merely opting to shake his head in response.

"Getting me out of that room is already a debt I'm unable to repay."

"I'm glad you said that because now you're really stuck with me forever."

And it could have been the trick of the light, but you swear he didn't look totally bothered by the idea.

After shrinking down Regulus‘ trunk and a small pouch he insisted on you taking as well, you made your way down towards the kitchen, pockets full and feeling satisfied from your mission.

As you entered the kitchen, you stop in your tracks as everyone's attention darts to you.

Isn't that fun.

Suddenly, Sirius stands up and gestures for you to come sit, his mouth set in a firm line instead of his usual playful smirk.

"Y/N, there you are. We need to have a talk."

Relax. There's no way he knows anything.

Was what you would have thought, but Hermione and Ron couldn't quite look you in the eyes. You were superbly fucked.

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl

[whitemancumslut]

please more dadrry i am begging you. literally on my knees right now. i need more he is genuinely the hottest man ever and i am delusional enough to believe i am married to him. PLEASE

LOVE ME LIKE YOU DO

SUMMARY Y/n and Harry have sex in the kitchen.

CONTENT WARNING, smut (Minors DNI), UNPROTECTED KITCHEN SEX, oral (fem receive), creamiepie

WORD COUNT 3,582 words

i don’t know if you want smut or fluff so i gave you heavy smut:) we all love dadrry! enjoy this till the next harry x angel is out.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” The small child apologizes softly with her voice full of innocence, when the small blue cup tips and the lemonade spills on her father’s grey t-shirt, immediately printing a dark patch on the fabric. Fortunately, Harry caught the cup before it could drop on the floor. Harry’s quick to give his child an assuring smile, shaking his head. The cool beverage sinking into his shirt, sticking against his skin uncomfortably, but he’s brushing it off, not wanting his baby to think they did wrong.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s not a big problem, just a little spill, alright?” The little girl nods then scoops up a spoon full of mac and cheese while her dad grabbed napkins for his shirt.

A curious Y/n walked out of the laundry room just to see her husband removing his t-shirt. As old as they were, the years they’ve been together, it never failed to make her heart skip a beat. The back muscles came into view. As if she was 18 all over again, seeing this beautiful tatted teen for the first time. His toned back and his tense muscles relax as he finally got the wet cotton off him.

When he turns to see his wife he nodded towards her, acknowledging her presence in the room.

“What’s going on in here?” Harry’s head swoons l to the warm chirp of his wife’s voice. She stands in her dark red pajama silk set, her hair tied up, the sight forming immediate heart eyes in his pupils.

Their son was first to speak out, “She spilled her juice on Daddy!” Maeve’s eyebrows knitted as she’s appalled her brother called her out. “No, no. It was an accident,” She whined, dropping her small spoon on her plate.

“It was an accident, darling. Don’t worry about it anymore. You two finish up soon.” Harry told his his daughter before looking up at Y/n asking, “Did you already throw in the load?” He asks, patting down the damp area, the smell of lemon reflecting off him. He walked closer to Y/n, who gave him a nod.

“Yes, but thankfully I didn’t start it yet. I came out when I heard… this.” She grinned, referring to his wet shirt. She steps closer to him taking the shirt from his hands saying, “I’ll take this. Can you get the plates in the sink and baths ready?”

“Yes and yes. Thank you, love,” he said, pressing an innocent kiss to his wife’s temple with an arm around the small of her back. Little did he know that started a fire in her.

Being in love for almost two decades now, had four kids, and he still turned her on. Not much has changed. Yes, he grew a little belly but the dad bod look on him turned her on more. Yes, he grew a bit grey but it was even hotter. He was still the sexiest man she’s ever met. This weekend resulted in two out of their four children being home. For the weekend, their thirteen-year-old daughter and fifteen-year-old son spent the night at their friends’ house. Fortunately, they’re together because the friends are also siblings and Y/n and Harry trusted their parents, Ruth and Austin, considering they have been friends for years. They missed the kids, greatly. But it wasn’t like they were fully free to do whatever. They still had the two youngest in the house, and usually, they are a handful when their older siblings are around to bother them. But now they don’t have anyone to both but each other.

Harry and Y/n’s sex life was probably better than the average married couple’s with four kids. Although, as the kids grew older and more to themselves, Harry found himself getting less private time with his wife. The teens became teens who stayed up past midnight, whether it’s listening to music, binging their favorite shows, playing a video game, or on FaceTime with their friends, they were up. The two parents didn’t completely lack a sex life because they were always willing to have each other— just depending on the circumstances.

The rest of the night she couldn’t help but have butterflies in her tummy whenever her husband would do something. He looked really hot. A little excited she got that familiar feeling of arousal in her core as much as it pained her all night.

But about 30 minutes after the kids baths, they were sleeping safe and sound. Just tucked in by their mommy, hugs and kisses from both mommy and daddy. Y/n finally was able to act of her arousal. Walking down the stairs to see Harry was scrubbing the plates, deciding it’ll be quicker if he hand washed. His wife watched as his hand moved with the soapy towel he scrubbed with.

Y/n walked behind him, the sudden hand on his back made him jump a bit. “It’s just me,” She chuckled. He smiled as she pecked his shoulder comfortably. The kids are sound asleep,” She told him.

“Yeah? Did you check on Lily and Eli yet?” Harry asked on the children who weren’t in the house at the moment. It was hard enough to let them hang out with friends let alone a sleepover. But as the kids got older it got a little more easier to be more trusting of them not the outside world. They were mature, honest, trusting teens. It made the couple feel a whole lot better since they became friends with two siblings and are with each other all the time. Every other hour, they would shoot out a text to one of the teens phones, just making sure they’re okay. Always a good morning and goodnight text.

Y/n hummed softly against his soft skin. “Yes. Ruth told me they ordered pizza tonight,” She watched as his veins that were in his hands poked out as the dish soap fell down his wrist. Her stomach churning and her head gone black for a second as he scrubbed Maeve’s plate. He smelt delightful, she couldn’t put a exactly a name to it though. But it was making her even more horny.

That’s when Y/n inhaled and exhaled deeply, her breaths making the hairs in Harry’s skin stand up. She called his name gently. The little nickname, H, making his ears grow to listen to whatever his love was to say next. The hand of the woman trails on his back and across his muscles. “What do you say you and I head back to the bedroom, hmm?” She questions sweetly, though her voice is seducing as she stroked his tatted arm, watching as he stopped scrubbing the pan and looked down at his wife. So beautiful. Her eyes gleaming up at him.

Then, Harry began to feel her touch grow less innocent.

Harry turned to take a peak up at the staircase like he expected two little feet to ruin what could’ve been/ what was about to happen. His brows raise, “Really? Right now?” Already growing excited in short anticipation. She nodded, “Please.” Harry’s hands let the plastic plate he was washing fall inside the sink, clashing with pans. Before she could make a complaint about the loud noise, he grabbed her face in his hands, closing her mouth shut. She’s quick to note the change of demeanor and the meaning in his eyes that soon turned lustful. His grasp on her face making her arousal release from her, unwillingly. Pressing their lips together, Harry kisses her passionately, swearing to not waste this moment.

His lips top hers as he took the breath she breathed out. Allowing him to take control of her and the kiss. Harry tilted his head as did his wife, their lips fitting together like puzzle pieces. A fuzzy-headed Y/n pulls away from the kiss, due to her lack of air, “Fuck, H,” She huffed out mid-kiss, the opening of her mouth allowing his tongue to hungrily sweep past her lips and lick inside her mouth. Hands now on her waist, moving her back until her bum hit the kitchen island.

They made out like they needed this. They made out like two horny teens who only see each other two days of week. They made out like they were desperate for each others touch. Her hands met the back of his head, gripping his curls, prying him away from her mouth. Her intentions were to tell him to take this to the bedroom but his eyes dart to the view of her neck and dive down to hungrily suck on the skin. Savoring her flavor, sucking feverishly on her skin. His hands finding anywhere on her body. Her hips, her ass, her thighs.

Y/n pulled back from the kiss, eyes locked on Harry’s swollen lips pink lips that were soon shining when he darted his tongue across. The breathtaking woman in front of him is about breathless. Wanting more of her, Harry pulled her closer going in for another kiss but she pulled back again. “Fuck, baby. Let’s take this to the bedroom,” She moaned, trying her hardest not to prop herself up on the counter and have him fuck her right then and there. But it’s like he read her mind. Harry says, “How about I take you right here?” He replies huskily against her skin causing her thighs to tremble, and voice to stutter. Before she knew it he’s muttering the word, jump, and she’s hoisted up in his arms, letting him slide her on the counter. She was too horny to turn down his idea.

Running her fingertips on his broad naked shoulders, flames traveling through him. His cock grows harder the more her hands are on him and the more she moans against him. “We gotta keep it really low,” He tells her, sinking down to his knees as his fingers hook on the waistband of her pajamas. Once they’re down to her ankles, Harry doesn’t bother finishing the job because once he sees the wet patch in her red underwear he loses it. He huffs out a low, fuck, and let’s his hands ride up her thick thighs.

Y/n peaks down at her husband, making heart clenching eye contact but it breaks when her eyes trail down to his lips. A wide smirk spreads. “Shit, you’re so wet, honey.” He chuckled, almost mockingly. No shit, she thought. “You’ve must’ve been like this all night all huh, baby?” His voice is in a cooing tone as if he was mocking the act of sympathy. He rises up to his feet, placing himself in between his love’s thighs. His palm gets hot as it finds it way against her clothed pussy. That sensitive area heated and aching for attention.

She sucks in a sharp breath as his fingers clamp and he grips her pussy. Huffing out a desperate, yes, her voice is low, afraid she’ll awake her sleeping children. Gripping in the counter, practically bruising her fingertips. “Can you fuck me please?”

Her husband completely dismisses her question before asking, “You like when I do that to your pussy, hmm, darling?” Receiving a nod from his wife, he pats her sensitive clothed cunt like a dog, an unholy moan slipping from her throat. She answers, “Yes I do.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve actually been in you huh? Bet you all tight and shit, huh?”

She nods mindlessly, mentally begging him to just fuck her but damn he was enjoying himself. “I am, Harry,” She whimpered hopelessly. Ending her sentence with a small, please, a whimper following, as she did a small grind with her hips against his hand.

At this point, Harry’s breaths are hitting Y/n’s face as he slid his hand inside the waistband of her underwear, making her breath hitch and her to grip the countertop. Immediately going to her clit, pressing down and rubbing softly. She moans, throwing her head back, hair falling back on the counter.

Harry discreetly slipped one finger her small hole, her hole so soaping wet he just slid in. Tight, she was. She lets out a raspy, fuck, grinding her bare bum against the counter.

Harry leans in, allowing her to grab onto his shoulders, soon wrapping her arms around his neck. “Oh my fucking—” She digs her fingernails into the back of Harry’s neck as he slips in his ring finger.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re suffocating my fingers, baby.” He chuckles lightly, fingering her feverishly. “So. Fucking. Tight,” He purrs against her lips, licking into her agape mouth, finally locking their lips together after teasing her. He plunged his fingers inside her soapy, cock-deprived cunt. Crooking both fingers as she threw her head back at the toe curling sensation. She let out an unholy cry and mewl when her thighs tense as Harry finger fucks her so good.

Harry’s tongue plays with hers, getting all of her tastebuds. Savoring the taste of each other, the two moan as Y/n’s arousal trails down Harrys wrist. He continues the amazing pace and in and out—crooking motion with his fingers as she release a like of curse words when her first orgasm of the night is near. Repeatedly hitting her g-spot, Harry talks her through as he breathing gets out of rhythm. His words go muffled as her breathing and moans get louder.

The last words she heart before her orgasm were…

“Feels like forever since Ive been in you.”

“You’re going to come, babe? I know, I know.”

“Cum on my fingers, baby.”

His words are her confirmation. Her thighs shook, her feet banged gently against the lower cabinet as Harry’s eyes roll over her whole body. She trembled as her toes curled, her stomach churned, and eyes rolled back just as her cum slowly spills out onto Harry’s digits.

A high pitched moan crawls up her throat and out her mouth, she rides out her orgasm on the pads of his fingers. Her breaths are quick and uneven. Desperate to catch her breath. “There you go, so pretty. Fucking gorgeous,” He praised and guided his wife through it. Her around hooked around his neck lightened up and slid down his naked torso.

“Fuck,” Y/n heard the low groan causing her to look up to see her husband looking off her cum off his fingers. “So sweet,” He purrs. Harry looks down, making Y/n follow his gaze. His cock was fighting against the shackles of his sweatpants. “I’m not done yet, baby. My cock is so hard. Jus’ know it was jealous when it saw my fingers fucking you,” he smirks.

“Want you inside me. N-now,” She huffs, her cunt still desperate. “Please.” She watched as Harry began to pull down his sweats, peaking down as he did also began to pull down briefs. The skin of his cock is seen and she grows impatient. Her breathing just getting back to steady rhythm, her whines a little louder than before, muttering the word, hurry.

Harry shudders as the cool air of the kitchen hits his cock, that shoots up when he finally gets his pants down. Y/n whines, “God— H, please.” She doesn’t know the last time she seen his cock. Most likely last week for an early morning shag, but it was still so unfamiliar to her when she’s been with he kids and working all week.

“I know, baby. Lay back for me,” he commands politely. She does as her husband says and laid against the cold counter top, pussy on display. Her wet folds are aching with pleasure as is the rest of her body.

“Shit,” Harry jerked himself as he began to kneel. He didn’t want to take too much of her layers off in case a child was to come down the stairs but that’s why they kept quiet- so they wouldn’t wake them and so they could hear their little noises.

Harry began to kneel in front of her cunt that laid up on the counter top, head between her thighs. Y/n couldn’t see anything but the upside down living room that was set in front of her as her head was back and she awaited Harry’s affection. What she didn’t expect was for Harry to hungrily, rummage through her folds with his tongue, forcefully. Licking a wet stripe between her folds, tasting every bit of her pink pussy.

She mewls out, whining as his tongue plungers inside her wet hole. Letting out an exaggerated sob, Y/n wraps her legs around her husbands back as he kitty licked her cunt, his lips brushing past her sensitive parts. Fuckfuckfuck, she swarms on the counter, having Harry hold her thighs down as he pulls his tongue out and pressed it against her clit. Harry had his hand wrapped around his cock, moving it in a slow up and down motion. Jerking himself slowly, moaning hungrily against her sweet pussy, sending vibrations all throughout her body. Using his fingers to pull back the hood of her clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking feverishly. She cries lowly, gripping onto the tight curls that her husband determinedly grew. He growled and shook his head as the grip on his hair turned him on more and more.

He tugged on his cock, squeezing as the precum dripped down his palm. His other hand, was rubbing Y/n’s inner thigh, slowly crawling up to her clit. Pressing his thumb against her sensitive bud, his tongue dived inside her, curling up like his fingers previously did. Y/n’s cries grew louder, her body oversensitive after her first orgasm and now she’s riding his tongue, on to her second orgasm.

“Fuck. I need to be inside you right now,” He groaned as he stood up quickly. The lost of his tongue made Y/n gasp and cry out. But Harry doesn’t let her pussy go long without attention. He continues to rub her clit forcefully, before teasingly, slaps his heavy cock against her cunt, making her cry. As much as he wanted to be inside her, so so badly, her cries were fucking beautiful.

The tip of his cock pressed against her clit as it slipped down with her soapy mound. “Please, H, please.” Her quiet pleads deceive him as he finally slips his tip in, large soft hands lay on her hips as he tilts in. “Holy shit,” He curses under his breath.

His nails immediately stick inside her hips. Harry rolls his hips meeting with hers, their skin meeting and slapping. Their rhythm is slow at first. Enjoying the intimacy of the moment. His balls slap against the bottom of her folds as he fucks into her passionately.

“Oh my god,” She moans. She’s unable to keep her moans in as much as she’s like as Harry’s tipping inside her.

“Pleasepleaseplease, fuck!”

“Shh, shh. Baby come,” He whispered, pausing his thrust and tugging on her wrist. Pulling a tad, motioning for her to lift her upper body and meet him halfway. She does as he wants and swings herself up, unable to keep steady with the long heavy cock that’s stomach deep inside her. Just moving made her moan.

Harry held her lower back with his left hand, moving closer to her pressing his lips against hers. Kissing her softly, Harry rolled his hips back and forward, his cock hitting her g-spot perfectly now that she was angled up on the counter. “Argnnn, ple—” Y/n’s cries are covered by Harry’s enticing kiss, keeping her steady as they moved their hips rhythmically. His right hand moved on top of her clit, using his wide thumb to rub gently.

She whined against his lips, muffled moans, all of it satisfying him. “Jus’ like that baby. Stay quiet,” He muttered, keeping her lips on his. She would tremble in his arms whenever he hit that spot and he would groan whenever she’d tighten around him. Rocking in and out of her, the kitchen echoed with the soft sounds of their naked skin meeting.

Fuck, Harry was being nasty with it. One thing you loved about Harry was that he was great at multitasking. He licked inside her mouth, tongue finding hers as she submissively let him play inside her mouth. Their salivas mixing as Harry fucked into her cunt, their orgasms coming closer and closer. Harry’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his cock enjoyed her soaked cunt hugging it tight, almost suffocating it.

She could feel him so deep inside her. In her guts, just about it.

A breathless Harry pulled away from the heated kiss and said, “Fuck, I’m so close.” His thigh muscles tightening and growing sore as did Y/n’s whole body. Her body began to feel numb as her eyes roll back again in ecstasy. “So so good, H. Baby fuck, I can’t. I’m cumming,” She warned him breathlessly.

She couldn’t feel her legs. “Me too, me too. Come on baby” His breath shuddered and cracked as his cock twitches inside her cunt, spurting his cum inside her. He moans into her ear lowly as she unravels as well, her moans are high pitched, harmonizing with him. It was hot, sweaty. Curses left their mouths as their breaths are lost in the air and the search for oxygen begins. “Holy fucking shit,” He muttered. His cock warms her for just a little bit more until he slips out making her feel immediately empty. She whines as her stretched hole leaks with cum of her own and her husbands.

“Did we really just have sex on the kitchen counter?” She exhales, shaking her head.

“Yes we did angel. How about I deep clean this counter while you get us a hot bath, hmm?”

She didn’t know how she managed to walk up the stairs and into the bathroom but she did. That night resulted in late night back rubs in a warm bath and another toe curling orgasm to end the night off right.

TAGGED @watercolorskyy @gxbiqs @lolarmy72 @hsonlyangelxo @theroosterswife24 @sad1esgf @gigisworldsstuff @princessmiaelicia @justlemmeadoreyou

[lowkeyrobin]

hello if your okay with it could you do a mcyt x reader of reader having been deployed and then like coming home and supprising them or just reader in militrary

thank you

ooo okay! I can definitely try for you! ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; tumblr crashed in the middle of Freddie's so his and Tommy's might be very watered down...

MCYT ; deployed

includes ; tommyinnit, badlinu, maxggs, & quackity

warnings ; language, talk about death/murder

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

he's so lonely without you bro

he often says "I'm gonna show y/n this" or "I'm calling y/n" to be met with silence or a dial tone

he normally texts you good morning and goodnight even though you can't see them

you turned your phone off when you were coming home so he wouldn't catch on to any of his texts sending or being read

he wasn't home when you returned, but you also didn't know when he'd be back

so you made the quickest trip to party city -in uniform- to grab balloons, streamers and a cake from the bakery next door

kinda weird making your own welcome home party but he'd appreciate it so it didn't matter

you return, and by 7 or 8, he does too

"I'm home!" You exclaim, jumping up from behind the couch

his jaw drops and his heart skips a beat before he runs over to hug you

"oh my god, I missed you so much, you don't even know!"

FREDDIE BADLINU

he usually sends pictures / texts about his day and stuff even though you can't see them nor respond

he also leaves voicemails when he goes out just telling you that he loves you and stuff

you didn't tell him you were coming home, deciding to just surprise him, since you honestly forgot you had a phone

you grabbed some food and wandered around town before going home

in the window you could see max, freddie, harry & tommy streaming in the front room, watching some awful movie

you unlock the door with your house key, and the boys snap their heads to the door, pausing the movie, thinking they were about to be robbed on stream

and in walks you, and freddie runs to you with open arms

"holy shit, why didn't you tell me you were coming home??"

meanwhile tommy grabbed the camera to hastily record the reunion, harry and max watching with smiles beside him

"whatre you watching??"

"a ripoff ratatouille, it's called ratatoing"

MAXGGS

he often talks about how much he misses you and usually streams / records things so he can show you later

soooo many pictures that you've yet to see

you texted freddie and tommy once you got your phone back, informing them you were coming home and wanted to surprise max

they were down with the idea and helped you get back from the airport & went to the store with you to grab a cake and some other little stuff

lots of looks considering you were still in uniform but it's alright

you got home while max was gone, freddie having taken him out for lunch while you and tommy set up the stuff and chilled out for a minute

you were watching the first garfield movie when max and freddie returned

"oh, hey max"

"y/n?? oh my god!"

big reunion hug that freddie filmed for you guys 🫶💔

ALEX QUACKITY

he's always whining and crying about how much he misses you

"I miss y/n 😔☹️"

he spams your phone like once a week, sending you memes and shit

on your way home, you turned on your phone, seeing he was live, making sure not to click on the unread messages

you'd brought home some little souvenirs for him

there was a rubber duck dressed in nationality wear to wherever you were deployed (America with a dumb flag hat & flag, Mexico with a sombrero, etc I think ykwim)

you use your house key to get inside, set your things down, and creep around his office to not alert him that you were home

you open his door, and he initially blames tiger

"bruh, does it look like I'm a cat??"

he looks over st you with a wide smile. "holy shit, y/n!!"

you walk over to hug him and he's holding back tears and shit

"i thought you were out killing people right now?"

"bro, i was just chilling at a base..."

[koyagifs]

shattered trust

pairing: Ravenclaw!Hongjoong x Hufflepuff!reader au: harry potter genre: angst | fluff | Summary: as the years go by, you never noticed the dark side of your lover.

Warning(s):

Some cursing, their ages will be aged up a bit! This fic is not meant to reflect how Ateez are in real life. This is a fanfic.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14

st masterlist | ateez masterlist

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖

You stayed in your seat, shock evident on your face as you looked at your friends. Seonghwa held his hand out, a smirk on his face as Wooyoung mumbled curses as he pulled out a few galleons and placed them on Seonghwa hand.

" he can never catch a break can he..." you mumbled, feeling awful for Harry.

Hongjoong shrugged, wrapping his arm around you as they waited for the great hall to clear. " but aren't you happy? Someone from your house finally got called"

You rolled your eyes, " Cedric will do well i'm sure but Harry is just a boy. I would be fearing for you all."

Wooyoung clutch his chest, throwing his body onto yours as you laughed. " yn finally admits that she cares for us"

" all but you woo" you said, shoving him off you.

Wooyoung began to protest, the others laughing as you playfully pushed him away, trying to stifle your giggles. The energy in the room was infectious, and despite the earlier shock of Harry’s name being called, the camaraderie among your friends was lifting your spirits.

Seonghwa, still grinning, leaned back in his seat. “Honestly, though, it’s wild. Who would have thought Harry would be in the Triwizard Tournament?”

“Yeah, it’s insane,” you said, shaking your head. “He’s just a kid! I can’t help but worry about him. It’s dangerous.”

Hongjoong tightened his arm around you, his warmth comforting. “You care more than you let on. It’s okay to be worried.”

“Don’t worry, YN! If anyone can pull off some crazy stunts, it’s Harry,” Seonghwa reassured, still smirking. “And if he can’t, we’ll just send him some flowers to cheer him up in the hospital.”

“Or a nice card,” you added playfully, “wishing him luck on his next life!”

The group erupted in laughter, the tension of the evening fading away. You felt lighter, surrounded by friends who brought joy even in uncertain times. The Great Hall was slowly clearing out, and you could see the stars beginning to twinkle outside the windows.

“Alright, let’s get out of here,” Hongjoong said, standing up and pulling you with him.

“We should celebrate a bit. Who’s up for some butterbeer?”

“Count me in!” Wooyoung exclaimed, practically bouncing in his seat. “I need a drink after all that drama.”

Seonghwa chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Always the dramatic one.”

Hongjoong wrapped his arm around your shoulder once again, leading the way with you towards the three broomsticks.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Hongjoong and you separated from the group once you all enjoyed the company of each other. Walking around Hogsmeade, a store had caught your attention. Hongjoong eyed your excitement, a smile placed on his face as he watched you bounce toward the shop window, your eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What’s got you so captivated?” he asked, stepping up beside you.

" look the rings Joongie" you pointed out.

Hoongjoong came beside you and leaned closer to the window, his eyes widening at the display of beautifully crafted rings. Each one shimmered with a different enchantment, some changing colors while others seemed to glow softly. But one caught his eye, it screamed you. The particular ring that had a delicate silver/gold band with a tiny charm shaped like a star. His star. Beside the one was a matching one, a gold band with a crescent moon charm. It was almost as if the two rings were made for each other, perfectly complementing one another.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the two of you wearing matching rings. He turned to you, a smile still place on your lips.

" ahh, it's getting late we should probably head back now" You muttered, leaving Hongjoong at the window shop.

" give me one second i'll be right back. Meet you at the bridge?"

You nodded, a mix of curiosity and excitement swirling inside you. “Okay, I’ll see you there!”

As you watched him dash back into the shop, your mind raced with thoughts of the rings and what they could symbolize. You leaned against the bridge railing, gazing out at the serene landscape of Hogsmeade, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon.

A few moments later, Hongjoong returned, a small bag tucked securely under his arm. His eyes sparkled with anticipation as he approached you, and your heart skipped a beat.

“What did you get?” you asked, unable to contain your excitement.

He held up the bag triumphantly. " that's for me to know and for you to find out later little badger,"

You pouted, " Joongie~"

He chuckled at your playful pout, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Alright, alright. I’ll give you a hint. It’s something that will remind you of me every time you wear it.”

You thought for a bit, both of you walking side to side back to the castle. Surely he didn't get the rings you both eyes moments ago.

You turned to him, your curiosity bubbling over. “Is it really something from the shop? You wouldn’t just tease me like that, would you?”

Hongjoong feigned innocence, his lips curving into a sly smile. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. You’ll just have to wait and see!”

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress your grin. Hongjoong laced your fingers together, the walk back up to the castle a peaceful one. With his fingers intertwined with yours, you felt a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you. The gentle evening breeze ruffled your hair as you walked, and the soft sounds of Hogsmeade fading behind you created a perfect backdrop for your shared moment.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖

A ball.

There's going to be a ball.

The buzz around the Yule Ball was electric, and you could hardly walk through the halls without hearing someone talk about it. Your friends were just as caught up in the excitement, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed. The thought of going with Hongjoong crossed your mind many times, each causing you to blush profusely.

The thought of the Yule Ball sent a flurry of butterflies through your stomach. You imagined walking in with Hongjoong, his hand gently resting on your back as he led you into the grand hall. The sparkle of enchanted lights and the soft music playing in the background created a picture-perfect scene.

“Who are you thinking of going with?” Seonghwa asked one day as you all sat together at lunch, his curiosity piqued.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” you replied, taking a bite of your food.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on his lips. “Oh come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t thought about going with anyone special?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you glanced over at Hongjoong, who was laughing with his friends at the other end of the table.

“Maybe you should take your time,” Yeosang suggested. “There’s no rush.”

Just then, a nervous-looking fourth-year approached your table, glancing around before he spoke. “Um, would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

Before you could respond, Mingi jumped in, pushing you behind him. " Not happening, buddy! She’s way too good for you!” He shot the boy a playful grin, but the fourth-year quickly scuttled away, clearly embarrassed.

“Thanks for that, Mingi,” you said with a laugh, shaking your head. “now no one will ask me to ball”

Mingi smirked, hands on his hips before they moved to be placed over your shoulder. You smiled up at him, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Good! They don’t deserve you anyway.”

You chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through you at Mingi's supportive words. “Thanks, Mingi. But what if I end up going with no one?”

Something shifted in Mingi eyes, before he looked at you with all seriousness, " you won't be, you'll be my date before i let you go alone"

You were going to reply before Yunho came beside him, shoving him off you as he gave him a look. Mingi held his hand up before he shoved them into his robes, leaving you confused. Yeosang spoke up, cutting the tension that was lingering in the air.

" plus, it's only fair that we scare the boys off. You're scaring all the ladies away ynie"

You couldn’t help but laugh at Yeosang’s comment, which broke the tension that had just built. “Scaring the ladies away? Really?”

Wooyoung smiled, coming beside Yeosang as he hung from him, " yah, come on. Who wouldn't want to go to the ball with us"

"i'm surround by idiots" Jongho muttered, rubbing his temple, a smile place on his lips as he watched you and Wooyoung argue back and forth.

As the day went on, more boys approached you with varying degrees of confidence, only to be intercepted by your protective friends. Each time, you felt a mix of amusement and frustration. “I appreciate the effort, but I really can handle it!”

Wooyoung smirked, “We just want to make sure you end up with someone worthy!”

“Alright, so who do you think is worthy?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Your friends exchanged glances, and then Jongho grinned. “How about Hongjoong? He’d definitely treat you right.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the suggestion. “he hasn’t asked me.”

“Maybe we should give him a little nudge,” Seonghwa said, a mischievous smile on his face. Seonghwa nudge Mingi who looked at him confused before he nodded his head. Mingi walked up to you, confusion placed on your face. Mingi began to lean close to you, your eyes widen in shock. Just as Mingi was about to place a kiss on your cheek, he was pulled back. A furious looking Hongjoong that did not let go as Mingi held his hands up in the air.

You watched in shock as Hongjoong’s expression shifted from confusion to protectiveness. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, glaring at Mingi.

Mingi smirk didn't falter, " ah just giving our badger a kiss on the cheek."

Hongjoong huffed, letting Mingi go as Seonghwa patted his back. " we've done it before, what's the problem"

“Yeah, but this time it’s different,” he replied, crossing his arms defensively.

You giggled, " joongie, they're just playing. They were just leaving too, right guys?"

Wooyoung eyes sparkled with glee as he nodded his head, shoving the guys along as they began to protest, a few throwing a quick bye before they were hushed. Hongjoong let out a laugh before he turned to you.

" i'm sorry, i've been busy helping this girl study. I'm pretty sure she's just trying to keep me away from my star"

You blushed at the new nickname, his star. " it's fine, i knew i'll see you sooner or later."

Hongjoong smiled warmly, and you felt your heart flutter at his words. “I’m glad you’re here now. I missed hanging out with you.”

“Me too,” you admitted, feeling a shy smile spread across your face. “It’s nice to have a break from all the chaos.”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. " i have a free period. What about you?"

You nodded your head, Hongjoong smiled. holding his hand out for you, " great, let's go to our special place hm?"

Your eyes lit up at his suggestion, recalling the peaceful moments you had shared there.

──･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.────

Hongjoong summoned a blanket, laying it on the ground as you both sat down. He laid his head on your lap, your fingers immediately finding his hair.

“This is nice,” he murmured, a content smile on his face.

“Yeah, it really is,” you replied softly, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere around you. The sound of leaves rustling and the distant calls of birds created a perfect backdrop. You looked down at Hongjoong, admiring his feature. His eyes were closed, a slight hum leaving his lips.

"remember how i said i have a surprise?"

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “Of course! What’s the surprise?”

Hongjoong opened one eye and grinned, clearly pleased to have your attention. He grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together. " well, i was thinking -"

" Hongjoongie!"

You both turned your head, startled to see a girl walking down to you both. Hongjoong furrowed his brows, confusion placed on your face as well anger. Hongjoongie? You felt a mix of annoyance and curiosity as the girl approached, her bright smile contrasting with Hongjoong’s furrowed brow.

Sitting up, his arms now wrapping around your waist. " Mina? What are you doing here?"

Mina smile faultered a bit as she noticed Hongjoong arm around your body. The urge to roll her eyes at the scene but she kept her smile, "we were supposed to met up silly. Did you forget?"

" we don't meet at all this week Mina. I told you i had to catch up with my personal stuff. "

Mina’s smile tightened, clearly frustrated. " we'll, let's just do it now then"

With that she plopped down, your jaw hanging in shock as she shoved your legs. Hongjoong was once again furious for the second time.

Hongjoong’s grip on you tightened, his expression shifting to one of irritation. “Mina, seriously? This isn’t the time or place.”

You felt a mix of disbelief and anger. Mina shrugged, unfazed, a smirk now on her face she noticed how angry you are. " you don't mind do you. It's really important Hongjoong and I get this done."

Hongjoong stood up, helping you along as Mina looked up at you two. " seriously, fuck off Mina. I told you next week. You have a month to complete it and you literally had me all last week. "

So this is who was taking up all of his time. You bit the inside of you cheek, " hongjoong... it's fine. We can talk later?"

Hongjoong glanced down at you, his expression softening a bit. He pulled you away from Mina, giving you distance as he cupped your face.

" are you sure? I'll tell her to fuck off right now" He asked, looking at you for reassurance.

You smiled, " just find me later yeah? you still have to tell me my surprise joongie"

Hongjoong’s expression softened even more at your smile. “Okay, if you’re sure.” He leaned in, hesitating a little as he hovered over your lips before he moved towards your cheek. You felt a flutter in your chest as he brushed his lips against your cheek instead. The warmth lingered there, making you smile even wider.

A cough breaks the moment you two were having, a curse slipping hongjoong lips. You giggled, placing a kiss on his cheek before you said your goodbye. He waved, standing up as he watched your figure retreating.

" thank god she's gone, now we can be alone together."

He wondered how long the sentence would be in Azkaban would be if he threw her into the lake for the kraken to have her.

[luv-loo]

Christmas with Neville Longbottom

Masterpost || Harry Potter Masterlist

Neville Longbottom x GN!Reader

Headcanon/Drabble: The first time with your new boyfriend during the festive season

Warnings: These drabbles/headcanons are directed towards a teen audience, as this takes place during Hogwarts schooling. You can read it as a backstory as sorts, but keep in mind the reader and Neville are minors. Neville’s parents and backstory is part of this headcanon, so be weary when reading.

Notes/Anything Else: Neville’s my favourite and a major comfort of mine. With Christmas coming I was thinking about this little thing hehe, hope you enjoy ! I haven’t done a format like this before… is it a drabble ? Idk…

Christmas times always been a iffy topic to Neville.

You noticed it when the Christmas holidays were coming closer, whenever someone would ask what each other plans were during the time. The teen would slug down a bit in his spot and have a dejected face for the conversation. You didn’t pry… to much.

When you two started dating your 5th year, you really took notice of it.

You found him in the common room, looking on the brink of tears, curled next to the fire place.

It broke your heart. “Why is my love so sad?”

You sat on the floor in front of the chair he was curled in. You asked what was wrong.

The common room was empty as everyone was packing to leave for the holiday, but you still whispered.

Neville didn’t say anything for a solid 10 minutes. All that was heard was the crackle and pops of the fire place.

“… my nan likes to have Christmas with my mum and dad.”

You turned to face him, his chubby cheeks had tears slowly rolling down. Your heart was breaking even more.

Neville didn’t live with his parents, you knew that, but he never talked about what had happened with them or even if they were alive.

“Nan says they’ll know who I am when I’m there.” Sniffles were coming in clumps now.

You sat up immediately and placed yourself on the arm rest next to him, taking hold of his hand and squeezing tight, a gesture you know will calm him down. “What do you mean by that? Love, you can tell me anything.”

Sobbing was echoed through out the room, you squeeze his hand impossibly harder. He explains St Margo’s, and how they’ve lost themselves. (You could tell he was holding back, but you wouldn’t dare push him any further, with all he’s said already)

A great pain of sadness deep in your chest gathered. By that point forward, you made sure your boyfriends Christmas were special.

You brought your own Christmas decor from home and set them up in the green house (with permission). A small Christmas tree with red & gold ornaments, with present, sweets and all Neville favourite plants surrounding it.

The first time your brought him to your little set up, you bouncing on the heels of your feet while you told him he can open his eyes now.

First, shock, then disbelief and lastly utter gratefulness crossed his face when tears started coming down.

You embraced him in the tightest hug, wiped his tears away and kissed his cheek.

Carefully taking him by the hand, you lead him to a little picnic blanket laid out with sweets of all sorts that you brought last time in Hogsmeade.

“I don’t deserve you at all.” He whispered, wiping his, now, puffy red eyes. You stop, turned to him, and cuffed his cheeks.

“Don’t tell me you don’t deserve anything, especially me, because that means you deserve everything.”

[quasi-normalcy]

Star Trek episode titles referencing specific characters or species:

So I've been through the list of every Star Trek episode ever, looking for titles that specifically reference characters or species. I'm talking specific references here, i.e., name drops, rather than just allusions. So, for example, I didn't count "The Squire of Gothos", but I would have counted it if the episode had been called "Trelane"; I counted "I, Borg", but not any of the episodes called things meant to evoke the Borg (e.g., "Collective", "Assimilation", "Drone", etc.).

Anyways, my results are as follows:

Characters:

Of the ST episodes named after specific characters, a plurality (17 out of 56) were named after what I am calling "minor" characters, which I am here defining as those who appear in only 1 episode. These included: "Charlie X," "Miri," and "Elaan of Troyius" (from TOS); "Bem" (from TAS); "11001001" (which is technically the names of the 4 Bynars) and “Aquiel” (from TNG); “Melora” (from DS9); “The Caretaker,” “Jetrel,” “Tuvix,” and “Alice” (from VOY); “Rajiin” (from ENT); “Jinaal” (from DIS); “I, Excretus” and "In the Cradle of Vexilon” (from LWD); and “The Trouble with Edward” and "Ephraim and Dot” (from Short Treks).

Q, of course, led the "major" characters, with 8: "Hide and Q," "Q Who,” “Deja Q,” “Qpid,” and “True Q” (from TNG); “Q-Less” (from DS9); and “The Q and the Grey” and “Q2” (from VOY)

Next was Data, with 4 episodes to his name (“Datalore” "Elementary, Dear Data” “Data’s Day,” and "A Fistful of Datas," all from TNG)

There was a 2-way tie for fourth place between Harry Mudd ("Mudd's Women" and "I, Mudd" from TOS; "Mudd's Passion" from TAS) and Spock ("Spock's Brain" from TOS, the movie Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, and "Spock Amok" from SNW), each having 3 episodes to their name.

Bashir was the only other character to have multiple episodes to his name ("Our Man Bashir" and "Doctor Bashir, I Presume?", both from DS9

An additional 20 regular or recurring characters had one episode named after them. These include: Lore ("Datalore"), Sarek ("Sarek"), Troi ("Menage a Troi"), Ro ("Ensign Ro"), Okona ("The Outrageous Okona), Dax ("Dax"), Quark ("The House of Quark"), Shakaar ("Shakaar"), Khan (Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan), Kahless ("The Sword of Kahless"), Morn ("Who Morns for Morn?"), Dr. Chaotica ("Bride of Chaotica!"), The Doctor ("Tinker, Tenor, Doctor, Spy"), Su'kal ("Su'Kal"), Vox ("Vox"), Boimler ("Much Ado About Boimler"), Kayshon ("Kayshon, His Eyes Open"), Paris ("We'll Always Have Tom Paris"), Badgey ("A Few Badgeys More") and Ascensia ("Ascension" (not quite, but I'm counting it)).

Species

Here, I counted not just the proper names of alien species, but the proper names of their homeworlds/dimensions as well. And here, again, "minor" species who appear in only one episode dominated the category, with 11 out of 44 episode titles: "The Gamesters of Triskelion," "Elaan of Troyius," "The Mark of Gideon," and "The Lights of Zetar" (from TOS); "The Magicks of Megas-tu" and "The Slaver Weapon" (from TAS); “Angel One” and “Galaxy’s Child” (from TNG); “Meridian” (from DS9); “The Swarm” (from VOY); and "An Embarrassment of Dooplers" (from LWD)

Q, which is, after all, the name of a species as well as a character, again leads the "major" entries, with 8 episodes: "Hide and Q," "Q Who,” “Deja Q,” “Qpid,” and “True Q” (from TNG); “Q-Less” (from DS9); and “The Q and the Grey” and “Q2” (from VOY)

Tribbles came next with four episodes to their name: "The Trouble with Tribbles" (TOS), "More Tribbles, More Troubles" (TAS), "Trials and Tribble-ations" (DS9), and “A Tribble Called Quest” (PRO)

The Ferengi (“Ferengi Love Songs” and “The Magnificent Ferengi” from DS9; “Parth Ferengi’s Heart Place” from LWD) and the Prophets ("In the Hands of the Prophets", "Prophet Motive", and "Tears of the Prophets", all from DS9) tie for fourth, with three episode apiece

There's a three-way tie for fifth place between the Vulcans ("The Infinite Vulcan" from TAS and "The Vulcan Hello" from DIS), the Borg ("I, Borg" from TNG and "Let Sleeping Borg Lie" from PRO), and the Andorians/Aenar, whom I am treating as one species ("The Andorian Incident" and "The Aenar", both from ENT), each with two apiece.

The Tholians ("The Tholian Web"), Orions ("The Pirates of Orion"), Cardassians ("Cardassians"), Jem'Hadar ("The Jem'Hadar"), Caretakers ("Caretaker"), Xindi ("The Xindi"), Species 10-C ("Species 10-C"), Mugatos ("Mugato Gumato") and Illyrians ("Ghosts of Illyria") get one episode each, mostly just boring noun titles

A few interesting things are of note here. First of all, outside of the one-off appearances and simple one- or two-word noun titles, the episodes of Star Trek that are named after specific characters or species are overwhelmingly done for comedic purposes (which probably explains why Q, Mudd, the Tribbles, and the Ferengi all tend to put in relatively strong showings). When things are serious, Star Trek across all series overwhelmingly tends to prefer more oblique or poetic titles. Notably, even the more "serious" episodes with Q ("Q Who" being the major exception) tend to forego the standard punny names.

Secondly, with the exceptions of Data and Spock (and to a lesser extent Bashir, Dax, Quark, the Doctor, and Boimler), Star Trek really doesn't like to name episodes after its opening credits regulars. None of the captains, for example, appear on this list: apparently you can name a series after Picard, but if you want to do an episode about him going on vacation, you call it "Captain's Holiday" rather than "Picard's Holiday."

Finally, it's remarkable what species aren't name-dropped in titles. The Vulcans, the Borg, the Ferengi, the Q, and the Cardassians (namesake of only one rather unimaginatively named episode) are all certainly among the major parts of the setting, but the Federation's oldest enemies--the Romulans and the Klingons--are nowhere to be seen; nor are the Changelings, the Bajorans, the Trill, the Betazoids, or any of however many other species to be featured prominently on their respective series. Star Trek typically seems to favour more oblique or thematic references when it comes to its antagonists (the aforementioned "Drone," "Collective" or "Assimilation" for the Borg; titles like "Heart of Glory," "A Matter of Honour," or "The Way of the Warrior" for the Klingons; titles like "The Neutral Zone," "The Enemy," and various allusions to political tension or spycraft for the Romulans; two separate episodes referencing the colour green for the Orions, and so on); titles that tell you what you can expect from these guys, rather than that they themselves are in it.

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (see full series list here)

1993

"Excuse me — sorry — just coming through..." you squeeze past the throes of people, trying to make your way to your seats with McGonagall. "Bloody hell."

You're starting to get quite agitated, though you're still brimming with excitement at the match ahead. McGonagall mutters something under her breath, gesturing subtly to your left. You follow her hand and groan.

There's Cornelius Fudge, and he's just after catching sight of the pair of you.

"Professors!"

Beside him, is a wizard you don't recognise, Mr Weasley, Ron, Harry, and Hermione. You smile widely at them, trying your best to ignore the fool beside them.

"Hello!" you say cheerfully, as yourself and McGonagall make your way over.

"Wonderful to see you as always, Minerva!" Fudge booms happily. He then gives you a weak, forced smile, and says, "And...you, too, of course."

"The pleasure's all mine, Minister," you say blankly.

He begins to chatter away with McGonagall and you can't help but notice the subtle annoyance in her expression. You turn to the kids and Mr Weasley, holding out your hand.

"Mr Weasley, right? It's wonderful to meet you — I teach your children Astronomy at Hogwarts."

Mr Weasley, a red-headed man just like the rest of his family, beams at you, excitedly shaking your hand.

"Ah, yes — I have heard plenty about you! You are here for the match as well?"

You grin. "Of course! Fingers crossed for an Ireland win!"

"Have you ever been to a World Cup, Professor?" Hermione asks you.

You nod. "Oh, yes. Quite a few, actually! Sirius used to — "

You pause.

"Seriously used to love it."

You exchange a glance with Harry, who gives you a small smile, and you return it.

"...ah, and here's Lucius now!" You catch the ends of Fudge's words and fail to hide your grimace.

Edging along the seats is a sour-looking man with disgustingly bleached hair, followed by his equally sour-looking son and his wife.

Lucius, Draco, and Narcissa Malfoy.

Narcissa, who's technically your...cousin-in-law?

"Ah, Fudge," says Lucius, holding out his hand for him to shake. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do? How do you?" says Fudge, smiling and bowing to Narcissa. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr Oblonsk — Mr Obalonsk — Mr — well, he's Bulgarian Minister for Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. Let's see, who else — well, the professors teach your son, I'm sure — I daresay you know Arthur Weasley?"

Mr Weasley and Lucius look at each other, tension in the air. Lucius' nostrils flare as he looks Mr Weasley up and down derisively.

"Good Lord, Arthur," he says softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

You bristle, but Fudge, who conveniently wasn't listening, says, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"Trying to save a spot for when you go barmy, are you, Lucius?" you say with a sweet smile. "Or...has that process already started?"

His sour face turns to you, looking down his nose at you. "I would watch my tongue if I were you. I'm sure there's no lack of teachers for Hogwarts."

Ah, Lucius Malfoy. Always threatening my job, the sweetheart.

"Now, now, there's no need for heated words..." Fudge intervenes and you throw on a bright, charming smile.

"Not to worry, Minister! Why, myself and Lucius are old chums from school, aren't we? We're only bantering."

Lucius fails to hide his disgust. "Yes, old...chums."

"Well, isn't that just wonderful? And I'm sure you're close considering your...marital ties!" Fudge says awkwardly, eyeing you warily.

You sigh. "What an astute observation, Cornelius."

"We better get to our seats," Lucius sneers, and Narcissa and Draco follow behind them. Narcissa gives you and almost imperceptible nod and you glance at McGonagall from the corner of your eye.

She pulls out your tickets, glancing down at the seat numbers again.

"Looks like we've still got a ways to go," she says and you nod, smiling at your students and Mr Weasley.

"Alright, enjoy yourselves!" You say cheerfully.

They all say their goodbyes and the two of you set off again, finally reaching your seats among the crowd.

It's a good thing you found it too, because as soon as you sit into your seats, Ludo Bagman's voice suddenly booms over the excited chatter. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN...WELCOME TO THE FINAL OF THE FOUR-HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SECOND QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP!"

Everyone screams and claps and you share an excited grin with McGonagall. The scoreboard lights up to show: IRELAND: 0, BULGARIA: 0.

"AND NOW, WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE...THE BULGARIAN NATIONAL TEAM MASCOTS!"

"I've read about these," McGonagall says beside you, flicking open her programme. You glance over at it, before returning your eyes to the pitch.

A stream of beautiful women emerge, dancing elegantly around the pitch. You watch as they dance and twirl and spin, all to the delight of the crowd, particularly the men. They're practically drooling.

Beside you, a woman is angrily tapping her heel while her husband ogles the dancing Veela, entranced.

The Veela dance faster and faster, spinning and twirling, their hair flowing in the air behind them. Another man not far from you looks like he's about to jump into the stadium from his high seat.

Then they stop.

Everyone around you seems to be rather dazed and confused. Angry yells and shouts rise from the stadium. The crowd didn't want the Veela to go.

You begin to wonder whether the Veela is really ethical, considering the amount of men you can see taking off their shamrock hats and Irish flags. You pull the flag tighter around your body, like a blanket.

"AND NOW," Ludo Bagman roars, "KINDLY PUT YOUR WANDS IN THE AIR...FOR THE IRISH NATIONAL TEAM MASCOTS!"

You grin excitedly, clapping furiously as a steady beat starts from a group of men holding bodhráns at the Irish corner of the pitch. Two large spheres of light appear in the air, gleaming and shining. They spin rapidly towards opposite goalposts, before a rainbow appears and moves in an arc to connect the two dots of light. They rise to form a large, glittering green shamrock, and the crowd begins to cry out in delight as what looks like gold coins begins to rain down from it.

You cry out when a few coins painfully hit against your head, colliding with the soft skin. You rub the sore areas, scowling. You glance at McGonagall, checking if she's had the same problem, to find she has conjured up an umbrella for herself and is holding it above her head, deflecting the lethal coins. She looks very unimpressed.

Everyone around you is in bits, gleefully gathering up the shiny gold objects. One woman in front of you is stretching her shirt and making it into some sort of makeshift basket, collecting the coins there. A few fall into your lap and you pick one up, bringing it closer to your eye to inspect it. It's clearly fake — it doesn't have the same indentations as a regular galleon. There are going to be some very disappointed spectators here later.

Then, to your delight, a line of Irish dancers spill onto the pitch, their feet a flurry of movement beneath them, all in perfect sync. They dance and spin and twirl and kick high, spinning around the field before settling finally as the bodhráns stop and they return to the side of the field, sitting to watch the match.

"AND NOW, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, KINDLY WELCOME THE BULGARIAN NATIONAL QUIDDITCH TEAM! I GIVE YOU — DIMITROV!"

A scarlet figure on a broomstick darts out onto the field at an incredible speed, to the raucous applause of the Bulgarian supporters.

"IVANOVA! ZOGRAF! LEVSKI! VULCHANOV! Volkov! AAAAAAND — KRUM!"

The scarlet players zip around the field, raising their arms triumphantly to the crowd of white, green and red Bulgarian flags.

"AND NOW, PLEASE GREET THE IRISH NATIONAL QUIDDITCH TEAM!" yells Bagman. "PRESENTING...CONNOLLY! RYAN! TROY! MULLET! MORAN! QUIGLEY! AAAAAAND — LYNCH!"

Seven green blurs zip out onto the field and you cheer as loud as you can, waving your flag in the air. Excitement has properly settled over you now at the prospect of the good Quidditch game ahead.

"AND HERE, ALL THE WAY FROM EGYPT, OUR REFEREE, ACCLAIMED CHAIRWIZARD OF THE INTERNATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF QUIDDITCH, HASSAN MOSTAFA!"

A small, skinny wizard, completely bald with a moustache, wearing robes of gold strides out onto the pitch. He's carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, and his broomstick under the other. He mounts his broomstick and kicks the crate open — four balls burst into the air; the Quaffle, the two dark Bludgers and the miniscule, winged Golden Snitch. He lets out a sharp blast from his whistle, and fires into the air after the balls.

"THEY'RE OFF!" screams Bagman. "AND IT'S MULLET! TROY! MORAN! DIMITROV! BACK TO MULLET! TROY! LEVSKI! MORAN!"

The speed of the players is unbelievable — they zip around the field, throwing the Quaffle with such speed you'd think they were playing hot potato. Actually, that reminds you of a time when the lads decided to play a game of hot potato — with an actual hot potato. James had launched it at Sirius' face and you had spent the evening running his cheek under cold water, which resulted in a very put-out wet dog.

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

1976

"Love, I'm sure we've been here long enough — "

"Fifteen minutes, Sirius! Fifteen. You should count yourself lucky I'm even doing this considering how stupid you have to be to even play that in the first place — "

"Come on, it was just a bit of fun — "

You point the tap at his mouth for a second and he blubbers dramatically.

"Not so fun now, huh?"

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

1993

"TROY SCORES!" roars Bagman, and you're plucked out of your memory to let out a loud cheer in delight. McGonagall jumps in her seat, just as happy, clapping her hands rapidly. "TEN-ZERO TO IRELAND!"

Troy does a lap of honour around the field and you gleefully hoist your flag in the air, waving it enthusiastically. Across the field, the Irish dancers cast glittering green shamrocks above each of their heads with their wands.

Within ten minutes, the Irish team have scored twice more. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, are whacking the Bludgers as hard as possible at the Irish Chasers, forcing them to abandon some of their best moves and formations. Ivanova manages to break through Ireland's ranks and score Bulgaria's first goal.

The Veela start to dance again as a celebration, and you wait impatiently for them to stop their enchantment and for the game to resume.

"DIMITROV! LEVSKI! DIMITROV! IVANOVA — OH, I SAY!" roars Bagman.

The crowd lets out a collective gasp as both Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummet through the centre of the Chasers, splitting them. They're neck and neck, speeding faster and faster towards the ground —

At the last second, Krum pulls up sharply and spirals off. Lynch, however, hits the ground with a dull thud that can be heard throughout the stadium. A groan is heard from the Irish supporters.

"What an excellent feint!" McGonagall comments, in awe. "Pity Lynch didn't realise."

You hum in agreement. "One of the oldest tricks in the book!"

"IT'S TIME-OUT!" yells Bagman. "AS TRAINED MEDIWIZARDS HURRY ONTO THE FIELD TO EXAMINE AIDAN LYNCH!"

The wizards hurry out onto the field, carrying medical bags with them. They sit Lynch up, giving him cups of potion to revive him. He finally gets up, much to the delight of the Irish supporters, and returns to the air on his broomstick.

Fifteen minutes of rapid playing, Ireland pulls ahead by ten more goals. You blink, missing an altercation between the two teams, causing Mostafa to give a sharp, shrill blow of his whistle.

"AND MOSTAFA TAKES THE BULGARIAN KEEPER TO TASK FOR COBBING — EXCESSIVE USE OF ELBOWS!" Bagman informs. "AND — YES, IT'S A PENALTY TO IRELAND!"

The Veela leap to their feet, tossing their hair angrily, and start to dance again. You watch as Mostafa has landed right in front of the dancing women, and is acting very odd. He's flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.

You can't help but laugh, watching as he winks at the Veela, though he's unable to wink with one eye so he just...blinks at them.

"NOW, WE CAN'T HAVE THAT!" says Bagman, though he sounds very amused. "SOMEBODY SLAP THE REFEREE!"

A mediwizard streaks across the field, his fingers in his ears, and delivers a harsh kick to Mostafa's shins. He seems to snap out of his daze and starts to yell furiously at the Veela.

"AND UNLESS I'M MUCH MISTAKEN, MOSTAFA IS ACTUALLY ATTEMPTING TO SEND OF THE BULGARIAN MASCOTS!" Bagman cries. "NOW, THERE'S SOMETHING WE HAVEN'T SEEN BEFORE...THIS COULD TURN NASTY..."

It does: members of the Bulgarian team land beside Mostafa, furiously arguing with the referee. You see them point accusingly at the Irish side, whose bodhrán-wielding musicians have enchanted the covers to spell out "HA HA HA". Mostafa doesn't appear impressed, however, and is jabbing his finger in the air frantically, as if to tell the players to get back in the air.

"TWO PENALTIES FOR IRELAND!" yells Bagman and the Bulgarian crowd yells in anger. "AND VOLKOV AND VULCHANOV HAD BETTER GET BACK ON THOSE BROOMS, YES...THERE THEY GO...AND TROY TAKES THE QUAFFLE..."

The play just gets more and more ferocious.

"FOUL!"

"FOUL!"

You watch as, enraged, the Veela burst from their position and appear to be throwing handfuls of fire at the Irish mascots. Their faces are elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads and long, scaly wings are bursting forth from their shoulders.

"Oh, Merlin!" McGonagall exclaims.

Ministry wizards flood onto the field to separate the fighting Veela and the Irish mascots but with little success.

"LEVSKI — DIMITROV — MORAN — TROY — MULLET — IVANOVA — MORAN AGAIN — MORAN SCORES!"

The Irish cheers are barely heard over the chaos below, blasts are now coming from both the Veela and the Ministry wizards. Quigley launches a Bludger hard at Viktor Krum's face, seeming to break his nose. Blood gushes from his nose but Mostafa barely notices, too occupied with the furious Veela and the end of his broomstick which has now caught alight from one of their fireballs.

Then, you spot Lynch zipping through the air, seemingly in pursuit of something — the Snitch! But it's not long before Krum notices and takes after him at such a tremendous speed you can barely keep up. They hurtle towards the ground once more and you hope and pray that this isn't another feint from Krum and that Lynch'll pull up in time...but your prayers go unanswered and Lynch barrels into ground once more. You groan, watching as Krum lifts up, simultaneously raising his right hand, which was bunched tightly around the Golden Snitch.

The scoreboard flashes brightly, showing: IRELAND: 170, BULGARIA: 160.

The crowd erupts into incredible cheers and screams and you grin, raising your arms high in triumph.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouts. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH — BUT IRELAND WINS — good Godric, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

The Irish teams lands and dance gleefully around their mascots, as their dancers spin and twirl, throwing green and gold confetti around them. Flags are waved all around the stadium, the Irish national anthem blaring from all sides.

"AND, AS THE IRISH TEAM PERFORMS A LAP OF HONOUR, THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP ITSELF IS BROUGHT INTO THE TOP BOX!" Bagman roars.

You turn to the scoreboard, which has now taken on the form of the top box to allow everyone to see inside. The large, gleaming, gold cup is handed to Cornelius Fudge.

"LET'S HAVE A REALLY LOUD HAND FOR THE GALLANT LOSERS — BULGARIA!" Bagman bellows.

You clap your hands, joining the crowd in polite applause, as a very dejected Bulgarian team files into the box. Bagman calls out each of their names and they all shake hands with their own minister and then Fudge. Krum is nursing two black eyes on his bloody face, lumbering towards the two ministers. The crowd erupts into an ear-splitting roar when his name is called out.

Then comes the Irish team: Lynch is being held up by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seems to have rendered him much more dazed and confused. He grins happily as Troy and Quigley raise the Cup into the air and the crowd thunders its approval.

The team leaves the box, doing a victory lap around the stadium, and you gather up your things and stand.

"What a great match!" McGonagall exclaims. "Well worth the trip!"

You grin in agreement, and the two of you leave the stadium along with the crowd. High-spirited singing carries through the air, the Irish supporters rife with merriment and celebration as the two of your return to your campsite. A campsite next to yours has lit their fire again, and someone has produced a fiddle while the rest dance jovially. You grin, grabbing McGonagall's hand and pulling her towards the festivities. She seems reluctant, giving you a bit of a surprised expression, before she joins you in dancing around the fire mirthfully. You swap partners with another man and she fails to conceal her laughter as he twirls her around gleefully.

You find yourself with a woman, a long braid falling from her head to her ankles, who leads you in a jig around the fire. Finally, when yourself and McGonagall have tuckered out, you bid your goodbyes to the lively strangers and return to your tent.

McGonagall sits down at the little table, sighing contentedly.

"Tea, Minnie?" you ask, setting the teapot down on the table and grabbing your cup, pausing to ask her the question. You're a bit wary of calling her that, but your mood is so light that you find yourself not worrying about it.

"Please," she replies. She lets out a small, surprised chuckle and says, "Minnie."

"Has no one ever called you that?" You place a cup in front of her and sit down, opening the latch on the pot and prodding the teabags with a spoon.

"Only my husband, and my mother," she answers. "It has been quite a while since I've heard it."

"I'm sorry if I overstepped," you say sheepishly. "I won't call you that."

She doesn't answer you, eyes focused on the flame of the candle between you. Then she meets your eyes, a small smile playing on her lips, "No, do. We're friends, aren't we?"

You positively beam at her, honoured at the privilege she's just given you. You don't say anything in response, for fear of getting that privileged revoked.

After a while, you pour the tea out from the pot, grabbing milk from the tent's fridge and placing it on the table as well.

"Thank you for bringing me along, by the way," you say.

She smiles, waving you off. "Thank you for coming. I would have been very bored without you. And — though Bagman is a fine commentator, I think you would have been the better choice."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I'm honoured you think that but...probably not."

"Do you ever miss it?"

"What, commentating? Yeah, I guess. It was pretty fun — "

"School. Do you miss it?"

You shrug. "I go back every year."

She sighs, giving you a knowing look. "Do you miss the time when you attended school?"

Miss it? Of course you miss it. That's like asking a prisoner 'do you miss the time before your imprisonment?'

"All the time," you reply softly. "It was the best time of my life."

There's a brief silence, before Minnie says, "I never thought you were mad, by the way. I know many make you out to be, but I've never thought it. When I look at you, I see an incredibly strong woman — perhaps a bit stubborn — but nonetheless an extremely intelligent woman, a woman well-worth listening to — and I fear you haven't been listened to enough in your life."

You don't even know what to say, you were not expecting that. You can't find the words at all, so you just look dumbly back at her and open and close your mouth repeatedly.

"I...I don't know what to say. You're amazing."

She chuckles, seemingly taken-aback, and just smiles again before setting down her empty cup and standing.

"Time for bed, I think. Goodnight."

You smile, sipping the last of your tea. "Goodnight, Minnie."

→ all kinds of interaction appreciated ♡

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→→ read chapter fifteen here!

*bodhrán: a drum used in Irish music

also, I changed the Irish mascots to be dancers instead of leprechauns, just because personally I find leprechauns to be a poor representation of Irish culture and never liked it in the books/movies!!

a big big thank you to my taglist loved for all their constant kindness and support:

@izuoyarmin @carpe00diem @wholelottalove05 @hyperspeedo

→ please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!

[daydreamsinrosie]

Whispers in the corridor: Harry Potter x Reader

Chapter 1: No Further Questions.

Pairing: Professor! Harry Potter x Professor! Reader

Genres:Slice of Life, Mystery, Romance, Eventual Smut

Synopsis: Four years after leaving Hogwarts and you found yourself back as a potions teaching assistant, leading research on innovative healing techniques. Settling in felt like a fresh start, until your unrequited love returns after leaving the Ministry of Magic in disgrace. How long until you find yourself tending to his wounds, in sickness and in health?

Authors note: if you’ve seen this premise from me but as a Sebastian Sallow x reader then please know that fic has died as I disappeared and couldn’t find the motivation to continue 😂, but I’m hoping recycling this plot into a Harry fic may allow for more creativity and this can get further than two chapters LOL.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The ambience of faint footsteps from the dungeon corridors emanate as I settle amongst the rolls of parchment in the empty potions classroom, ready to start marking the student assignments on the uses of Shrivelfig in elemental potions.

Taking a nursing placement at St. Mungo's with the promising of healing ailments of wizarding society's most vulnerable felt like my calling after the trauma of the Second Wizarding War, but immersing myself amongst the worst maladies left me ruminating on the pain internally that had yet to heal and sometimes during restless nights I could still hear the endless screams of grieving families.

And now I'm back in Professor Slughorn's classroom, having returned with curious looks from the faculty. I'm now a teaching assistant for potions class, leading on research into new and novel healing techniques enhanced by alchemy whilst being an open book for any curious student.

The faint glow of floating candles informs me it's now late evening and I decompress with a long stretch to ease my regular problem of poor posture whilst grading homework when I'm distracted by a familiar voice.

"Dobby would like to ask if Miss Dotty wants to request anything from the kitchens."

The house-elf, still maintaining his aura of effervescence with a multi-coloured bobby hat and mismatched boots looks up at me with eagerness.

"Of course Dobby, an Earl-Grey tea and any leftover Treacle Tart from tonight's feast please."

"And some beef-stew dear Donnie boy!"

Slughorn marks his return to the classroom with his esteemed ability to misidentify most of us.

"Donnie will return momentarily!" Quickly disapparating to appease our growing appetites.

"Dotty my dear, shouldn't you have returned to the Faculty wing by now?"

I let out a small sigh from the nickname from my school years that seems to stick.

"I didn't realise that my nickname has followed me into my adult years Professor."

The nickname Dotty, whilst adorable sounding at first, has an embarrassing backstory I still can't manage to escape.

***

It's sixth-year and the first lesson of N.E.W.T potions, and Professor Slughorn is finishing his explanation regarding the allure of Amortentia.

"Now, Amortentia doesn't create actual love, that would be impossible. But it does cause powerful infatuation or obsession and for that reason... it is probably the most dangerous potion in this room."

"Now who would like to volunteer their thoughts, ah! Y/N, care to explain what you smell?"

I'm ashamed to admit that the butterflies fluttering in my stomach led to a lapse in judgement as I happily nodded and made my way to the bubbling cauldron.

"Well sir, I smell Broom polish, Butterbeer and warm vanilla...".

The embarrassment didn't reach my cheeks until the classroom door swung open to showcase a dishevelled Harry and Ron entering the classroom, clearly showcasing their confusion if they should have even been there or not.

But that wasn't enough to stop the slight giggles of a few Gryffindors, namely Hermione and Seamus Finnigan who clearly knew who I was referring to. Hermioned commented on my aloof nature in the moment and called me dotty, and it's stuck ever since.

***

"Well there is much to take from the moments we enjoy wandering in our imagination. Now where did I leave those blasted leaping toadstools..."

I return back to grading homework, trying to ignore the warmth I feel on my cheeks.

Slughorn is still trawling through the store room when Dobby reappears with our dinner for the evening, alongside a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Miss Dotty! Dobby thinks Miss Dotty will be interested in this news!"

The house-elf quickly yet gently holds his arm out to hand me the newspaper whilst I hear a faint "ah!", from the store room.

"Of course Dobby, thank you. Now why don't you head back and persuade Winky to take a short break from her evening shift for me."

"Yes Miss Dotty, Dobby loves to encourage a work-life balance!", followed by a poof of air.

The steaming mug of tea feels inviting as I reach for it and take a sip, looking towards the crumpled newspaper to reach today's headline:

"Fallen Angels? Elite Auror Wing at the Ministry fall foul of Dark Magic use."

Knowing the history of the Ministry of Magic, even in a post-war world many of its employees would prefer to swallow a spider fang than admit to any shortcomings. You would presume a desire for greater transparency if it weren't for the bags of galleons still making their way to prominent columnists.

"It can be confirmed by an inside source that a group of 5 elite aurors referred to under the codename 'Fallen Angels' have found themselves at the centre of a dispute regarding the use of unregulated dark magic.

Witnesses across the southern coast of the Scottish Highlands acknowledged lingering effects of an unforgivable curse amongst an innocent bystander alongside a dazed Troll who wreaked havoc and ultimately was stunned and handed a heft dose of a potion for dreamless sleep by trained ministry professionals. 

The Ministry of Magic have confirmed a 'regrettable' breach of the code of Magical conduct amongst the accused, led by none other than the former 'Chosen One' Harry Potter, who was once labelled an auror prodigy given his story and eventual triumph against the Dark Lord. While the extent of their behaviour remains under seal, all five have been fired with immediate effect."

A small bout of butterflies fill my stomach as I read over the brief statement again. We all expected to hear about Harry's rapid ascent through the Ministry, but it wasn't supposed to be this.

***

Three years ago.

"I can't think of what the world is going to look like after this. Me, going through the ministry ladder like a regular wizard and simply not being known as the Chosen One?"

I can't tell whether it's contempt or sadness affecting him at the moment, as we sit amongst the winding staircase of Ravenclaw Tower the day before we were due home at the end of our sixth year. It was the last time I got to see him before the battle.

"Normality is something I'm looking forward to honestly, maybe I can be relieved of my parents' expectations and being a pureblood doesn't control my future decisions anymore."

It was always the sticking point in my friendship with Harry. Not necessarily being an incredibly shy Gryffindor who regularly competed with Hermione for top grades, and not competing as a chaser in the same team that ignited a professional and personal friendship. And not even a close connection with Harry that was independent of the Golden Trio and their inner circle that straddled the lines between friendship and something more. 

But my status as a pureblood, and having parents sympathetic to Voldemort's ideology. Granted they were too cowardly to join the ranks of Death Eaters, but the pressure of controlling my ability to experience the world lead to a strain that I was too exhausted to repair once Voldemort was defeated.

"A husband, kids and a home to call yours, Dotty?"

I didn't know what to say knowing he knew of my nickname, but I couldn't help but giggle at it despite pleading inside that he wasn't aware of the context behind it.

"Maybe. I'd want something to call mine, be it a career, a home or someone. Just something beyond this."

It was a small moment of vulnerability and I couldn't help but feel meek as I grasped onto the piece of silver jewellery in the palm of my hand with the knowledge that I couldn't do more to support him in the moment, and that his future plans likely wouldn't include me.

"One day after everything, we'll have something to hold on to. It's a feeling Dumbledore clearly never let go of, and it's something he wanted me to continue in a way."

I could tell he was exasperated saying that given the pressure in having to find a sliver of light in dark times, but there was a glimmer of peace in his green eyes as he looked directly at me.

A moment passed by in silence, and before the clock struck midnight and I had to return to the common room I had to do one last thing.

"Harry."

I force myself to look at him as I whisper his name, not knowing how my emotions were going to control me in the moment.

"I, uhm, I have something for you."

"Oh?" His expression softened a little as I relaxed the strain in my right hand, opening to showcase a pendant with a golden snitch charm crafted in Sterling Silver. My nerves lessened slightly as I glanced at his questioning look, knowing that if it's from me then it must have a practical use.

"It's charmed. If you find yourself taking on any more cursed professors or you're stuck in battle, you can press down on the Snitch to release a small dose of dittany leaves to help heal any pain or minor injuries.

If anything, I hope it's a reminder of me and a reminder that our friendship wasn't in vain. You'll always have a piece of me regardless of where you go."

I took a breath to let out the rest of my nerves as I waited for a response. Did it mean anything to be so vulnerable at that point?

I could feel tears welling in my eyes and felt like I needed the last say, so I stood up and let Harry know:

"Goodbye Harry. You'll always have a supporter in me."

***

The Next Day.

There is a certain buzz within the staff corridor as I wait by the main staircase for an urgent announcement. A typically quiet morning has now been replaced with owls flying in every direction and questioning looks from myself and others who only know of an affair of the 'utmost importance'. 

"If I'm honest, I think I would be relaxed sitting amongst the new patch of Mandrake seedlings I've laid in the Greenhouse."

The character development of Neville, now Professor Longbottom brings a small laugh out of me. Normally we aim to be an example for students by maintaining a sense of calm but this is one of the rare times where the uncertainty of the outside world could be felt within the castle's walls.

There's a little more idle chatter before Headmistress McGonnagall makes her stance known at the top of the staircase, a look of rigid determination on her face. A couple of clearly overwhelmed house-elves follow behind, hidden by leaning towers of parchment that almost shield the looks of distress on their faces whilst they almost try to address queries of the large audience as McGonnagall walks a few steps forward and announces:

"Good morning everyone. I'm sure you all have heard of the recent news regarding the one of the Ministry's most esteemed auror divisions being dismantled due to unlawful conduct. Whilst this school has an established and courteous relationship with the Ministry, I am also of the belief there are moments where we need to stand up for our own students, especially those who guided us through momentous periods of upheaval.

And there it was. Four years after attempting to let go of an underlying heartache and it's already back.

Invoking the chivalry and rebellious nature of Godric Gryffindor specifically, this decision has been made in the context of this transitionary period our society is currently in."

The atmosphere was beginning to feel tense, and as I briefly look around I have a feeling some of the other faculty members have immediately caught on to what the Headmistress is alluding to. I can feel my heart beat start to pick up and just need McGonnagall to say it out loud.

"With the current vacancy of a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, I'm pleased to announce that one of our recent graduates, Harry Potter will be taking the position and is due to start within the coming week. I will take no questions regarding this, and I expect you all to provide a courteous welcome.

I will be taking no further questions on this matter. Meeting dismissed."

[dramioneasks]

hello! can you recommend any good healer!hermione x auror!draco? thank you!!!

Random recs:

The Lies We Tell Ourselves - Asilynn - E, 41 chapters, Words: 247,518 - 8 years after the war, Hermione is a single parent working as a healer for St. Mungo’s. When tragedy strikes the hospital and former Death Eaters and their families are being hunted, Hermione is thrown into a mystery like none before. When a web of lies are exposed, Hermione finds herself putting her trust in none other than single father and Auror, Draco Malfoy. Hermione and Draco have to learn to trust one another despite their rocky shared history. As more secrets are uncovered, Hermione and Draco work together and along the way find family, friendship, and a spark of magic.

Growing Sideways - CatchCathWriting - E, 21 chapters - After escaping to France after the Wizarding War, Hermione Granger finds herself back on British soil with no direction in life. As she finds her way, old dramas haunt her and Hermione Granger soldiers on as she has always done, until she breaks down. As she rebuilds herself, she finds support from the most unlikely of people. And she can’t keep her eyes off of Draco Malfoy as they work together to try and close his Auror case that has been open for too long.

Tentacular - Kayka - E, 8 chapters - Auror Draco Malfoy suffers a mishap that renders him alarmingly altered. Lead Healer Hermione Granger has never been one to step down from a challenge, though this tentacle-y little problem may be the first to actually get the best of her.

My Best Friends’ Best Friend Draco Malfoy - GreenInk_RedLetters - M, 19 chapters - "Look, we obviously don’t get along.“ Malfoy rose a brow. "But Harry is my best friend and for some miraculous reason he’s decided to trust you so I’m proposing a truce." Malfoy crossed his arms. "A…truce?" ”Yes. No insulting my hair or my clothes OR my work habits.“ He looked like he wanted to interrupt her. "And I won’t intentionally insult your necessity for a house elf or your slimy personality." "In the same breath you’ve managed to propose a truce AND insult me.” He paused. “Very Slytherin of you.” Hermione ignored him. "Truce? For the sake of our friends?“ He smirked. "Alright.” Her eyes narrowed. She hadn’t expected it to be that easy. A true enemies-to-lovers Dramione story, with an added twist of the rest of Hermione’s friends having already adopted Draco into their group. But when the pair form a timid truce to work together to assist in Harry’s proposal to Ginny…maybe seeds of friendship (or something more) will start to bloom. Features classic Draco snark, humor, alcohol-induced decision making, and perhaps someone not hating the other *quite* as much as they’d previously alluded to.

It Never Really Ended - Snd0327 - E, 38 chapters, Words: 132,130  - When Hermione decided to be a Healer, she never would have expected that seven years later she’d be helping hunt down Death Eaters (and maybe even a Dark Lord) with Draco Malfoy. This is a work in progress, and the tags are updated as the story evolves. If you’re reading while I’m writing, please make sure you check the tags before starting on a new chapter. New Chapters will post on Sunday or Mondays depending on when it manages to come together and my lone beta has a chance to read it.

Shades of Grey by EmilieJane - M, 19 chapters - Hermione Granger had a few ethical dilemmas in her lifetime. Informally being Draco Malfoy’s Mind Healer just happened to be one of those.**I do not condone relationships between a therapist and their clients - this is just for fictional giggles and shameless dramione**

-Lisa

[xxmarcxline]

003 - THE LIGHT OF FREEDOM ON MY FACE - “enchanted!”

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Wolfstar!Daughter!Reader

ENCHANTED MASTERLIST!

By no means do I support R*wling’s biased views! This profile is meant to be a safe space promoting escapism <3

TW: none ( although, please feel free to message me if you believe i missed some!! )

THE FLYING CAR BEGAN ITS DESCENT, and soon enough, you were able to catch a glimpse of a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees.

“We’re a little way outside the village,” says George. “Ottery St. Catchpole.”

The edge of the brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees, its radiance, Harry found, reflected your own as you grinned at the familiar sight of the Weasleys’ residence.

“Touchdown!” said Fred as, with a slight bump, you landed — a tumbledown garage in a small yard to your right, Harry looking out for the first time at Ron's house.

In all truthfulness, it was run-down, for lack of better term. The structure appeared unreliable at best, as though originally a large stone pigpen, but renovated to fit extra rooms and reach several stories high. It had been so crooked, staggering like the lightning-shaped scar on your friend’s forehead; however, like the mark etching his skin, magic had built and kept it ebbed stubbornly along the grassy surface.

Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign was stuck in the ground near the entrance reading, ‘THE BURROW’. Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.

“It's not much,” said Ron, rubbing a self-conscious hand along his forearm. He looked around the wooden walls of his home in uncertainty, just as he had when you first came over — a subconscious sign of his insecurity.

“It’s brilliant,” Harry was quick to react happily, thinking of Number 4 Privet Drive and the horrors he associated with its pale, perfected walls.

“It’s nothing short of wonderful,” you followed, smiling at the three brothers, meeting their silent gazes. As you exited the vehicle, the sun’s warm rays cast upon you, moving silently as your shadows crept towards the door.

“Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly,” said Fred, throwing a cautious glance at his surroundings, “and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast.”

He turns to face you and his younger brother, “Then, you lot come bounding downstairs, Ron going, ‘Mum, look who turned up in the night!’ and she'll be all pleased to see you and Harry, and no one needs ever know we flew the car.”

You raised an unimpressed brow at their careless grins. There were so many ways this could go wrong. . . for them. But you were never one for wiping off the twins’ smiles, no matter how stupidly aggravating their cheshire grins could be.

“Right,” agreed Ron, nodding his head in full agreement. He doesn’t give you a second glance as you go, guiding Bowie atop your shoulder. “You know your way to Ginny’s room, I’m sure. Now come on, Harry, I sleep at the top—”

Harry found it odd how his friend simply stopped, going a nasty green in complexion. Meanwhile, you exuded the opposite reaction, grinning goofily and waving madly, gaze set out the kitchen window. His eyes followed yours, blowing wide as he spotted Mrs. Wesley marching across the yard. Chickens scattered, Bowie took cover behind your hair, and for a short, plump, kind-faced woman, Harry found it remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger.

“Ah,” muttered Fred.

“Oh, dear,” mumbled George.

“‘Ello, Molly!” you exclaimed shamelessly as Ron gulped. He appeared close to tears, you mused. How funny.

All of the above were telltale signs of the trouble you five were undoubtedly in, and if Harry had known any better, he would have taken off running and not looked back. But he didn’t, a stupid decision on his part, if Bowie were to say so himself. Mrs. Weasley came to a halt before the lot of you, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next (then there was you, a smile peeking through her tough exterior for a brief moment). She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand sticking out of her pocket.

“Morning, Mum,” said George, grinning in what he believed to be a jaunty, award-winning means while you and Fred withheld a snigger.

“Where have you been?”

“Have you any idea how worried I've been?” said Mrs. Weasley in a deadly whisper.

“Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to—”

All three of Mrs. Weasley’s children towered over her, yet simultaneously, they cowered as her rage befell them.

“Beds empty! No note! Car gone — could have crashed — out of my mind with worry — did you care? — never, as long as I’ve lived — you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy —”

“Perfect Percy,” muttered Fred bitterly.

“YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY’S BOOK!” yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred’s chest as her voice rose an octave higher. At that, even you flinched, taken aback. “You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job —”

“They were starving him, Mum!” You were unsure how you felt about your friend speaking up. But you were all for liberation, so, nonetheless of your conflict, you internally cheered him on. “They put bars on his window!”

“Well, you best hope I don’t put bars on your window, Ronald Weasley.”

You loved Molly, you really did. But she had the ill temper of a mad dragon, burning fierce and easily triggered. You consider yourself lucky to be receiving special treatment from the woman — saving you the need to fear being on the wrong end of her fury.

It seemed to go on for hours. You had attempted to ease the boys of her full attention a good few times, although Mrs. Weasley had no intention of cutting her lecture short, shouting herself hoarse before she turned on the pair of you.

While Harry backed away on impulse, Bowie returned to the comforts of your pocket. Godric knows how greatly he fears the woman.

“Oh, darlings!” she beams, her deep frown fixing into a welcoming grin, “How wonderful it is to see you both! Come in and have some breakfast!”

You needn’t hear any further invitation before joining the family for a meal.

Long story short, life at The Burrow had been all but ordinary. Every day, you woke to the sound of small explosions from Fred and George’s room — having to comfort Bowie each waking moment —, and every night, you were kept up by the incessant racket of the ghoul in the attic. The howling creature was a pitiful thing. But your patience could only take so much, wearing thinner every time it had interrupted you and Bowie’s beauty sleep.

With summer coming to an end, it wasn’t long before you heard from Hogwarts again. It had been a sunny morning about a week after you had been welcomed into the Weasley residence. You were at the kitchen table, seated by Ginny Weasley (she always looked forward to your company, eagerly offering to trade all her brothers to gain you as a sister) when you heard the boys thundering down for breakfast.

You feigned ignorance as the younger girl stiffened up beside you, taken by amusement with how she fawned over Harry and the oh-so-holy grounds he walked on. You saw her pupils dilate into cartoon hearts, you swore. And as one would in a cartoon, her admiration blinded her from all else — including her bowl of porridge, until she knocked it to the ground with a loud clatter.

You sent Bowie a silencing look as he chittered merrily, poking fun at the mortified Ginny whose face glowed like the setting sun. Meanwhile, Harry, pretending he hadn’t noticed such interactions, sat down and took the toast Mrs Weasley had offered him.

“Letters from school,” uttered Mr Wesley, passing you identical envelopes of yellow parchment, addressed in green ink. “Dumbledore already knows you’re here, [Y/N], Harry — doesn’t miss a trick, that man. You’ve got them too,” he added as the twins ambled in, their hair askew, still in their pajamas.

For a few minutes, there was silence as you all read your letters. It was the usual, come to King’s Cross on September the first, the need for school supplies, and finally, there was a list of the new books you would need for the coming year.

‘Second-year students will require:

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk

Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart

Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart

Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart

Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart

Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart’

It was ghastly.

The man was one your father had spoken endlessly about, and not in the best sense. Upon every glimpse of his books the pair of you had encountered, his jaw would tick and he would give a subtle eye roll — one only you were trained well enough to see. He would go on about how Lockhart had gone to school with him, and how the Ravenclaw was most undeserving of his affiliations with the good house and his recent fame.

He was a freeloader, a credit-grabber. He would ask Remus to tutor him, and idiotically enough, he was able to provide the younger boy with the answers to his assignments, and all he would do was rephrase and reconstruct the wording. It was quite brilliant, yes, but it irked Remus to this day.

With that in mind, you couldn’t contain the grimace at the sight of that list. There was no way you would support his career by purchasing his books. No way in the seven bloody rings of hell.

Bowie, sensing your displeasure, was quick to attack the ink along the parchment, crossing every trace of Gilderoy’s name until it was but messy scrawls along ruined parchment. He made sure to keep the rest of it intact, however, that thoughtful beanpole.

Meanwhile, Fred, who took quite longer to finish reading his list, went to peer over at yours, eyes widening as he caught sight of the shredded patches. He instead turns to Harry’s. “You’ve been told to get all Lockhart’s books, too!” he said. “The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan – bet it’s a witch.”

At this point, Fred caught his mother’s eye and quickly busied himself with the marmalade.

“Or perhaps a fool. . .” you lowly muttered to yourself, wincing as you caught sight of Mrs Weasley’s tattered book displayed on one of the countertops. You’d momentarily forgotten you were in the company of a die-hard fan. And a fierce one, at that.

“That lot won’t come cheap,” said George, with a quick look at his parents. “Lockhart’s books are really expensive. . .”

“Well, we’ll manage,” said Mrs Weasley, but she looked worried. “I expect we’ll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny’s things secondhand.”

Just then, Percy walked back in. He was already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his knitted top.

“Morning, all,” said Percy briskly. “Lovely day.”

It was a wonder how he got up and ready for the day so early in the morning. You may have awoken earlier than him, but you were by no means ready to start the day. Your hair was quite a mess, and you were still in your knitted sweater and comfy pajamas. Most often, you would be able to start your day early. But today was not one of those days. Rather, any day at The Burrow was not one of those days.

He sat down in the only remaining chair but lept up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a molting, grey feather duster – at least, that was what the pair of you (Bowie and yourself. . . plus Harry) thought it was until you saw that it was breathing.

“Errol!” said Ron, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under its wing. “Finally – he’s got Hermione’s answer. I wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursleys.”

He carried Errol to a perch by the back door and tried to stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off again so you cringed as the thud echoed loudly in the silence, and despite Bowie’s defiance, you went to pick the poor creature up and balance it on its two left feet. The bloody creature had no sense of balance left — well, if it had any to begin with. Laying him on the draining board, you overheard Ron muttering, “Pathetic,” in much dismay.

Meanwhile, from over by the dining area, Harry admired your care for the rugged creature. He couldn’t contain the small smile that erupted his expression, admiring the gentleness of your gaze despite telling the poor creature off.

Whilst he paid attention to you, Ron made haste, ripping open Hermione’s letter, its contents spilling out, and read her long-awaited message aloud:

Dear Ron, [Y/N], and Harry if you’re there,

I hope everything went all right and that Harry is OK and that you both didn’t do anything illegal to get him out, [Y/N], Ron, because that would get Harry into trouble, too. You both know how often [Y/N] gets injured, especially on the ventures that lack my assistance.

The majority, if not all your days as a first-year (that was an exaggeration, but it certainly felt like it) were spent wallowing (healing) on the second bed of the dull, cramped, sullen hospital wing. (Okay, that was yet again an exaggeration. It was clean and spacious enough, and well-kept, and Madam Pomfrey ensured it to remain as such. But by Godric’s beard, did it get tiring — its four walls became your home at some point or another. But at least, the madam was a good gossip, keeping you entertained during your stays.)

There was that one time a troll had knocked you against the bathroom wall, that “so-so” injury you sustained during that one quidditch match (“A broken arm is by no means mediocre, Ms. Black-Lupin!” you could hear Minnie’s yells echoing from a distant memory), those boils you’d gained from that one Potions class, that one encounter with Lord Volde— You cringed at the growing list.

Nonetheless, I’ve been really worried, and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl, might I suggest Hermes, or perhaps Hedwig, because I think another delivery might finish this one off.

I’m very busy with schoolwork, of course – “How can she be?” said Ron in horror. “We’re on holiday!” – and we’re going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don’t we meet in Diagon Alley?

Let me know what’s happening as soon as you can, love from Hermione.

“Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too,” said Mrs Weasley, starting to clear the table. “What’re you all up to today?”

Mrs Weasley woke the lot of you bright and early the following Wednesday. After a quick half-a-dozen eggs and bacon sandwich, you pulled on your coats and Molly took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.

“We’re running low, Arthur,” she sighed. “We’ll have to buy some more today. . . ah, well, guests first! After you, [Y/N], dear! Your father must be expecting you.”

And indeed he was. The pair of you had been exchanging letters almost daily throughout your stay at the Weasleys and agreed to meet at the Leaky Cauldron before heading off to buy your supplies. While some notes exchanged your plans for today’s awaited reunion, others contained sweet nothings and greetings, and others bore more pressing matters, such as your father’s well-being after the previous full moon.

Poor Moony had to deal with its aftermaths on his own this time around. . . You could only hope that your friends (the little critters that resided in the forest and those that took permanent residence in your room) were enough company to bring him some semblance of comfort while you and Bowie were away.

“I’ll meet you lot at Flourish and Blotts, yeah?” you turned to your friends for a moment, ignoring the puzzled gaze of Harry as Mrs Weasley offered you the flowerpot. You only smiled as he blinked in confusion, taking a pinch of glittering powder from the clay pot, stepping up to the fire, and casting the powder into the flames. You only faintly heard him ask about the wonders of the Floo network when a large emerald flame swallowed you whole upon exclaiming, “Diagon Alley!” and vanishing.

Remus had been looking forward to this day from the moment he waved you goodbye. It had been a quiet two weeks without your company, and he knew that it would be an even lengthier rest of the year with you off at Hogwarts.

There was something in his gut telling him that this year would be much unlike the last. Not in the sense that he would never see you again, but that. . . his yearning for you, his only daughter, would be strengthened twice fold. That something peculiar, even beyond Lord Voldemort’s reappearance the previous year, would occur.

Thus, he wished to make the most of the little time you had left before the school year began and planned to make it as memorable — if not more — than the last.

If only your (other) father were here to help him with that. After all, despite everything that went wrong, it was undeniable that Sirius Black loved his daughter endlessly. Once, the man compared it (his love) to the galaxy. Infinite and unmistakably immense. Neverending.

Your father always said he “loved you all the way from the moon, and to Saturn.” Always, he would say he loved you even more than that, but, like Saturn’s rings, his love for you orbited his entire world. It was his entire world.

But then again, if that truly was the case, why did he leave? Why did he betray their friends? Although, Remus always made sure to leave that bit out of your bedtime tales.

Every night, as you grew up, unlike most parents who read their kids fairy tales and books, he would recount the stories that consumed his youth. He would recall his days at Hogwarts, the escapades that filled the four marauders’ nights, and the laughter that filled their halls by day.

As much as he despised the love of his life for betraying you both as he did, for depriving your childhood of any sense of normalcy, he couldn’t bear to tell you such a thing. That your father, who claimed to love you so, had left you behind to serve the dark lord. That in his madness, he got himself sentenced to life in Azkaban, never to be seen again. Or so he could only hope.

His secrecy did little to shield you from the rest of the world, however. It was inevitable that you learn of what happened (or what was said to have happened), just as it was inevitable to recognize the fear, pity, and distaste in some passerby’s eyes. But you were strong. You did not let that deter you, if not for your own sake, then for your father’s, who worked tirelessly to provide for you both.

Remus, righteous as he was, was always too ashamed to take anything from the Black family vault, nor from Sirius’s own savings (which contained more than enough, mind you). Although, he did allow himself to use some of the latter to send you to school. He at least owed you that.

The rest, however, and all that you both spent as you walked the cobblestone path of Diagon Alley, he took from his own pocket. He enjoyed spending — so long as it meant seeing those light blue streaks highlight your head of hair.

He grinned as you shared a cup of butterbeer brittles from Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour, (though, thanks to his familiarity with the owner, received it with a discount), sniggered as you nearly tripped, having stepped on a cracked stone, and hid a scowl as you joyously greeted one of the subjects of a pile of your letters home from the previous year.

Cedric Diggory knew not what he did to receive a strained handshake from your father, but he shook it off with a nervous smile as you waved him goodbye.

Striding down the rest of Diagonal Alley with an occasional smile, wink, and wave (you were quite popular amongst your peers, you learned the previous year), you caught a glimpse of a shop or two that caught your fancy. There was Ollivander’s Wand Shop, where you’d received your wand (the old man noted it a peculiarity, albeit you hadn’t a clue why), then there was Quality Quidditch Supplies, where you made your rounds, though exited with nothing.

Finally, you reached Flourish and Blotts, where you were immediately tackled into a hug.

Hermione Granger, hair bushy as ever, had weaved through the crowd to greet you after a summer away from one another. You missed each other greatly, yes, but you seem to have underestimated just how much.

“Oh, [Y/N], how I missed you!” Exhibit A.

“‘Mione, oh, love of my life! You haven’t a clue how I missed you! In fact, the parchments of my notebook are drowning in inked sonnets of just how much!” Exhibit B.

“You’re exaggerating,” she hid a grin behind a shake of her head.

“Oh, but I’m really not,” you blinked innocently in reply. Indeed, you really weren’t.

In your trunk was a notebook filled with little things you had noticed about your best friend — how her eyes set alight when she reached certain parts of her books, how she straightened in her seat and furrowed her brows upon a particularly page-turning plot twist. You noticed it all, and being the poet daughter of a Black and Remus Lupin, you turned these simple moments into words, etching them along the pages of your notebook, and on occasion, annotating them by particularly relevant lines of your books.

Truth be told, there was once a time you mistook your affections for her to be beyond platonic. You thought, at some point or another, that Hermione Granger would be the person you would love silently for the rest of your life. But of course, you were only twelve. What could you have known about love?

Not far later, you traded those faux butterflies with the realization and contentment of a sister. That was what you were to Hermione Granger, and what you learned, she truly was to you.

That didn’t stop you from admiring the beauty in her simplicity, however. Rather, you carried on, albeit, now also noticing the others that composed her background. You would smile wider upon Blaise and Theo’s bickering, giggle (though you despised the word) more heartily at the tickle of Bowie’s movements, and drown in grief, albeit momentarily, as professors spoke of your likeness to your fathers, once believing you to be out of earshot.

But that was nothing. You would shrug it off after a moment or two.

Like then, you went on with the remainder of the day. After a short reunion with your friends, Blaise and Theo, as well as a mini meet-and-greet with your father’s favorite schoolmate (he wished to strangle the man in his place), you ran into a bit of trouble with your not-so-distant relatives, the Malfoys.

Lucius was pretentious as ever, taunting Arthur Weasley and your father for their blood and financial status, while his spawn, Draco, was unbearable as the previous year. He, like his father, simply had to taunt Harry with every waking moment, and in doing so, only managed to piss off the rest of his company, and in particular, a temperamental metamorphmagus.

In later retellings and biographies of your life, some would state that it was accidental magic on your part that dropped a particularly heavy book atop Malfoy Senior’s head. Meanwhile, others would say you knew exactly what you were doing, and performed some degree of wandless magic or that you had simply thrown it with your fantastic, Quidditch Chaser aim.

You couldn’t be bothered to correct any of them.

It wasn’t long before dusk made its return, the sun slowly setting to signify the day’s end. Exchanging brief promises of “see you later”s and meetings at the train, you eventually parted ways, gripping your father’s hand as you headed in the direction you first came.

It wasn’t long before you disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind a proud set of twins, a starstruck Ginny, a content Ron and Hermione, and a wistful Harry.

The boy was smiling to himself again, staring at the grounds you once stood. It was a strange, dopey-looking smile that left Hermione amusedly rolling her eyes at her friend.

“A sickle for your thoughts?” she asked him, breaking him out of his [Y/N]-induced daze.

“What?” he could only stammer in response, blinking up at Hermione in confusion.

“I see the way you look at her, Harry,” Her tone was almost teasing as she smiled at him. “Don’t worry though. You have plenty of time to win her over.”

“I’m sure of it.”

He couldn’t be bothered to deny her insinuations. After all, it was useless to argue against Hermione — she wasn’t even wrong to begin with. She never was.

Harry took comfort in her words. She was right. He had more than enough time to win over your affections. It couldn’t be that difficult — if Cedric Diggory and Oliver Wood could do it within a year, why couldn’t he? And he had seven!

What could possibly prevent two best friends from becoming more than that?

Meanwhile, as night came upon London, a young boy of the name Edmund Pevensie, gazed out his windowsill in contemplation.

Earlier that day, he had overheard his parents speaking of sending him, alongside his four siblings to a family friend — some professor, if he remembers correctly. He recalls his mother fretting, expressing her worries about the four of them, when they heard a distant creek along the wood of the floor.

They retreated into their room, and somehow, Edmund couldn’t make out a sound.

The rest of the night, he was left to worry, silently and to himself, of whatever was to await them in the coming days.

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[cherryslyce]

Second Son (VII) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The summer before your sixth year is another fruitful one spent at Grimmauld Place. Regulus and Y/N have an insightful conversation and grow closer than before.

Part VI / Part VIII / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Cheers to another summer break! The not canon compliant warning is starting to become more apparent. The slow burn is burning a bit.

The weeks following the confrontation at the Ministry left the Wizarding World at a standstill, the alleys and streets seeming to grey and titter in jumbled whispers and conspiracies. Minister Fudge could no longer make a public enemy out of Harry, having witnessed the return of Voldemort for himself. Unsurprisingly, Fudge resigned shortly after Dumbledore was reinstated. 

Despite the retreat of public scrutiny from his back, Harry fared no better than he had the summer before, conceivably managing far worse. You don’t remember much after Sirius’ attack, only that Luna quickly rushed to your side and grabbed Regulus’ portrait from your hands, hiding it in your jacket as Auror Tonks made her way over to your glass-eyed form. 

You could never thank Luna enough because you distinctly remember being unable to feel your limbs due to shock, and you’d rather not have to explain your portrait predicament. Tonks’ words barely registered, but you heard one thing loud and clear: Sirius was not dead. 

But he did not get better. 

Currently, he occupied a suite room at St. Mungo’s, his consciousness torn away as he remained in a frigid coma. After Harry had recovered from his clash with Bellatrix and Voldemort, he had nearly tackled you to the ground, realizing that your quick thinking to grab Sirius with your spell was the only reason he was still alive. 

Breaking the news to Regulus was difficult since you knew how much he loved his brother, despite the strained relationship they had. Regulus was devastated by the news and he seemed to pale further when you told him that it was Bellatrix that got him. Pureblood family issues were so complicated. 

After your brief conversation about Sirius’ status, neither of you had the energy to talk about Regulus’ disappearance, so you ended up pocketing away his portrait. 

Despite the relief you felt because Regulus was back with you, you couldn’t bring yourself to face him just yet. Your reluctance to face him again led you to leave him in your pocket for a few weeks without talking to him. 

However, you knew you’d have to face him eventually, and it was just the opportune time to do so. Harry and the Weasleys were going to spend the summer at the Burrow, but you pleaded with Dumbledore to allow you to return to Grimmauld Place under the guise that you would research ways to help Sirius. 

Bellatrix had hit him with a highly complex dark curse, one that was foreign to the healers at St. Mungo’s, meaning that it was likely a curse found in the Black library. 

Your excuse wasn’t a lie, but it was far from the whole truth. You also wanted to further explore your magical connection with Regulus and the disappearing room, still perplexed by the wisp of magic you felt last time. But it seemed that there was little use hiding that fact from Dumbledore, as he gave you a small, all-knowing smile before giving you permission, “The world seems to have strange ways of bringing people together. I do hope you find what you are seeking.” 

At first, your heart nearly gave out because you assumed that he had used legilimency on you, but your ring gave no indication of it, so you presumed it was just a Dumbledore thing. 

It seemed that Dumbledore and Luna were aware of Regulus’ existence to some degree, which was no surprise, one was a legendary wizard, the other an understated seer. Their knowledge only served to worry you though, as you weren’t confident that Voldemort was none the wiser to Regulus’ existence now. 

If Dumbledore knew with what limited time you spent around him, there was no doubt Voldemort was itching from suspicion. 

Vengeance was practically Voldemort’s middle name (even if Harry insists that it’s Marvolo). You still had no idea how Regulus had wronged Voldemort, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to find out for the sake of your own sanity. 

As the green flames engulfing your vision slowly dissipate, you carefully step out from the floo network and brush away the ash from your clothing. Spinning around, you faintly smile at the nostalgic environment. Grimmauld Place was far from a welcoming home, but it had a certain knack for bringing along pleasant surprises. 

Before you can set out to dive into research, a popping sound has you whirling your head downwards towards the noise. 

“Master Regulus’ friend is back” Kreacher’s voice is tuned with surprise, but he looks pleased to see that you’re alone, evidently still not as accustomed to your friends or the Order members. You were secretly quite flattered to have the elf’s approval–not that you’d ever admit it to anyone. 

Grinning down at the elf, you wave as he moves to grab your trunk, “Hi, Kreacher. I’ll be here awhile, I need to research a few things to help your Master.”

“Help Master?” Kreacher turns his eyes to you in apprehension.

Nodding solemnly, you release a small sigh before answering, “Yes, he’s been in an accident.”

At your words, Kreacher’s grip on your belongings loosen, turning to look at you with a face full of anguish, “What is wrong with Master Regulus?!” 

Sputtering a little from shock, you quickly placate the elf, still reeling at the fact that he was capable of that much worry, “No, no, Regulus is fine. I’m talking about Sirius, he was cursed by a dark spell and the healers don’t know how to fix it.” 

Kreacher’s tense form relaxes considerably and he grunts, turning back to his task of gathering your items, “So, Master Sirius still breathes? Pity.” 

Expecting a far more violent response at the news, you simply nod, allowing silence to blanket between the both of you. You briefly considered asking the elf if he was knowledgeable of Bellatrix’s ledger of favorite curses, but decided it would be your last resort. 

You weren’t sure if Kreacher would be of much help considering it involved Sirius. 

“Kreacher, I’ll be in the library. You can put my things in the guest room I stayed in last summer.” Your words are met with a slight nod and that’s all the sign you need before you’re bounding up the stairs and in the direction of the expansive library. 

Much of the content filling the shelves of the sealed library were enigmatic, but you hoped that you could kill two birds with one stone and find information for both of your goals. How lucky that both of your problems involved the Black brothers. 

As you trailed through the aisles of shelves, running your finger along the leather-bound books, you sighed as you realized you were putting off your chat with Regulus. At first, it was truly because you didn’t know how to breach the subject of his portrait traveling, but now it was also because you felt guilty for avoiding him for so long. 

Rip the bandaid off, stop stalling or he’ll really leave this time around. 

Reaching into your jacket, you carefully extricate the frame out of your pocket, bringing it to eye-level. Plastering on an unsure smile, you feel relief flush through your veins as Regulus greets you with his own soft smile. 

“Little bird, it’s been a while.” Regulus’ voice is smoother than you remember, and you find yourself shuffling around as your heart begins to pound uncomfortably. Bloody crush giving you heart palpitations. 

“Hi, Reg. It has been. I’m sorry for not talking to you sooner, I’ve just been thinking.” Even though your excuse was flimsy at best, Regulus shakes his head firmly, as if all was forgiven on your part. 

Warmth shines in his eyes as he alleviates your worries, “It’s not your fault, it is entirely mine for mindlessly leaving you alone that day without a word.” 

Shocked by his initiative to bring it up first, you can only nod mutely as he continues, “I’m sorry, Y/N. My reason for leaving…it was entirely childish, and these few weeks of not communicating with you allowed me to contemplate some more. I want to be honest with you, if you’re up to hear it.”

“Of course, and I want to be honest with you as well, Reg.” Your nod and soft smile seem to strike a chord in him, causing him to emit a low laugh of fondness. 

Tilting his head to the side, his eyes seemed to shine brightly at you, “You’re always honest with me, little bird. I think I owe it to you—to us, to be transparent this time around.” 

You have to make a conscious effort to stop his ‘to us’ from replaying over and over again in your head. 

Huffing in playful annoyance at his ability to endlessly fluster you, you decide to take a stab at his declaration, “Alright, if you’re sure, then…I guess we should start with the most obvious question, why did you leave that night?” 

Dragging his hand up to tuck a loose curl behind his ear, he gives a little pause before answering you, “I was scared.” Seeing your confused look, he continues, “I was scared because…your injury. When I saw it, I was furious–and not at you, but towards Umbridge. I was terrified because I care for you… so much, but there’s nothing I can do to help you in those kinds of situations.” 

He cares. It was so different hearing it verbalized by him. 

The stress weighing on you seems to melt away, the furrow between your brows letting up as you lightly come to your own conclusion, “So you left because you were angry.” 

He shakes his head lightly, “It was not just anger, but also fear. Frankly, I feel a sense of devotion to you and I was frightened by it. I left because I thought that it would be logical to languish my connection to you, but I realized how foolish my thoughts were. I am stuck with you, just as you are stuck with me.” 

His words were genuine, but you could tell he was dancing around a deeper meaning. Still, you were glad for his honesty. It was a step forward in your relationship. 

You feel yourself getting choked up by his announcement, but before you can even muck up a response, he continues, “I was anxious that day, before I even took notice of your wound. Before you casted that muffliato, I had heard the blast and thought that you were being attacked. But I waited to hear your voice, maybe a reassurance that it was all okay. When everything became muffled, I was worried that you were hiding everything from me because something was happening to you.” 

“Oh.” Well, when he put it like that, it’s no wonder he was so furious that day.��

He nods at your realization, finishing his explanation quietly, “You are so kind, little bird. Even in that moment where you could have been in danger, you still put your consideration for me first. It’s scary to think, but I know…I know that I would do the same if the roles were reversed.” 

“You know that I care for you deeply as well, Reg. We’re in this together.” It comes out slightly watery, but your words are firm and the vulnerable glint in your eye eased Regulus’ tension. 

Reinvigorated by Regulus’ words, you decide to bring up the topic that had been troubling you for a while, “I was honestly unsettled by my attachment to you as well. I’m unsure of what to make of it, some days it feels unreal. I just don’t understand it all because logically, you’re a portrait, but deep down, I know that there is so much more to you. You’re not like any ordinary  portrait I’ve stumbled upon.”

Nodding as if expecting the topic to be brought up, he straightens up and clears his throat, “I suspected you felt this way, and honestly, I’m not entirely sure why I’m so different. I know there might be a few possibilities as to why, but I feel as though I am missing a part of the answer, myself. When I left you that night, I was able to spy on a few portraits in the castle. Of course, I couldn’t reveal myself since they would have recognized me, but, from what I observed, most portraits are not as…dynamic as me. Even the most complex ones at Hogwarts seem to be entirely derivative.”

Not quite expecting Regulus’ loss for answers as well, you can only seem to reach one conclusion, “So the answer to all of this…it happened shortly before your death then?” 

“Yes, it’s highly likely. After all there was a two week gap of radio silence between the last visit from my living-self and his untimely death.” Regulus’ confirmation has you suppressing a groan. It seemed like you wouldn’t be getting a clear answer so easily, but perhaps Regulus left clues on the research he was doing before his death around the library. 

Humming as you feel a headache coming on, you decide to let the topic drop there, “It’s okay, we don’t need all the answers right now. But I’m glad we had this conversation, and I hope that in the future we can continue to be honest with each other.” 

Regulus smiles at you, “Of course, little bird. But I’m curious, any news on my brother or about the Dark Lord?” 

A small frown tugs at your lip as you’re brought down to reality, “No changes in Sirius’ condition, but I’m hoping that maybe we can find some clues here. Unfortunately, Voldemort is making his move in bold ways, he’s truly an incisive foe. He murdered Amelia Bones last week, it was all over the press, even the muggles covered it.” 

Taking notice of how your voice catches at the end, he returns your frown, “I didn’t know you were fond of Madam Bones.”

“I was quite partial to her morals, and she was an accomplished witch, to boot. Plus, I know her niece. She has no guardian now. Voldemort murdered her parents during the war.” Shaking your head at the turn of events, you can’t help but feel a sense of unease at Madam Bones’ death. 

Voldemort was moving rather quickly. There was no telling what his next move was going to be. This wasn’t the first time he was able to strike down a famously powerful wizard or witch, even in his revived state, he was just as remarkable of a wizard. He was slowly removing the pillars that held up the Light side’s confidence, at this rate, Dumbledore was going to be the only one left to look to. 

No use in overwhelming yourself, take it one day at a time. 

Lowering Regulus’ portrait slightly, you begin to peruse through the book titles on the shelves, trying to find anything synonymous for “dark curses and hexes”. You were hoping that the search for the curse would be quick, but unfortunately, it seemed that the entire library was just pooling to the brim with parchments about the Dark Arts. 

“Hey, Reg. Do you have any idea where Bellatrix might have learned such a troubling curse? Any area of the library I should focus on?” Your words were meant as more of a joke, but Regulus’ contemplative expression has you stopping in your tracks to focus your attention back on the boy. 

Rubbing his chin, he seems to map out some ideas in his head, “During our last conversation, the day Sirius was cursed, you said his muscles seemed to constrict before he went limp and then he dropped into a coma?” 

You nod in confirmation at the pointed assessment, wondering just how useful the symptoms could be at narrowing down the possibilities.

Why couldn’t Bellatrix have used another curse of milder lethality with far more ridiculous effects? Coma, really? Why not puking up tarantulas or something? While it would make for a ghastly sight, it would be ridiculous enough to make the hex more apparent. 

After a few more moments, Regulus seems to have a lead of some kind, “I don’t have an exact answer, but it does remind me of a time when I was younger and Bellatrix would talk in circles about experimenting with soul magic. She wanted to impress the Dark Lord, so it’s no doubt something of that caliber.” 

“Soul magic?” You punctuate the words in disbelief, realizing that the circumstances might be far more dire than anyone could have fathomed. 

Realizing that you had no idea where to even begin, you decided to enlist some help, “Kreacher!” You weren’t exactly sure if it was necessary to yell, but the action soothed some of the stress you were suddenly feeling. 

A pop echoes around the library and Kreacher stands before you in mild irritation, “Kreacher has been called?” 

Placing a hand on your hip, you try to seem authoritative with your command, “Yes, Kreacher I need your help. Could you gather up all the books on the property that concern soul magic or soul hexes?” 

The elf’s eyes seem to light up at your words, clearly thinking that you were taking interest in the Dark Arts. The prospect wasn’t exactly improbable, but you were much too reluctant to choose soul hexes as an introduction. 

“As you wish. Kreacher will begin right away.” After giving you a razor-sharp grin, he’s gone in the blink of an eye and you hear a distant pop ring from deeper in the library. Hopefully, Kreacher could be trusted to keep your little research topic a secret, you would not fancy having to explain to your friends why you were researching such a dark subject amidst Voldemort’s return. 

As you begin to make your way out of the room, you bring Regulus’ portrait back up to your face, “Reg, there’s something interesting I discovered the night you left. I was wandering around the castle-” looking for you “-and I spent the night in the Room of Requirements. Except it wasn’t exactly the Room of Requirements.” 

Regulus looks both intrigued and full of reproof at your words, compelled to hear about your adventures, but displeased by your decision to break the rules and risk being punished further. 

Brushing aside his concerns, you continue, “Well, while I was wandering around, I was thinking about you and where you might be, and the room that ended up appearing was the disappearing room that your portrait was originally in.” 

Finding yourself in the kitchen, you carefully prop Regulus up against an empty fruit bowl before rounding the table to raid the cabinets. To your utter dismay, all the cabinets are empty, save for one filled with numerous knives. Groaning at the lack of food, you decide to plop back down in front of Regulus, cradling your empty stomach pitifully. 

Shooting you an amused eyebrow raise, Regulus seems to consider your findings as you continue to mope, “That is fascinating. If it was truly the same room, then it must be as a result of something my human counterpart did whilst he was still alive. When I was first painted, the room already existed–that much I know. Although he was the only one who ever came into the room, I thought very little of it at the time.” 

“It seems that all the answers about the strange magic surrounding you and the disappearing room vanished with him. How frustrating.” Your groan is cut off with a loud grumble from your stomach, causing you to slap a hand to your middle bashfully. 

Entertained at your embarrassment from the strident noise, Regulus chuckles before putting you out of your misery, “Kreacher will be awhile with the books. It’s fine, go out and grab some food, we can talk after you’re done.”

Nodding glumly at his suggestion, you quickly pocket his portrait and feel around for your pouch of galleons. Once you’re ready to head out, you grab a handful of floo powder and ready yourself for human interaction. 

Merlin, you were so looking forward to being a recluse the entire break.

The feeling of becoming a hermit only grew as the rest of the summer dragged along. Kreacher managed to snag a little over a dozen books about soul hexes and magic for your research, keeping you occupied indoors for a majority of the break. 

You only managed to stay sane because Regulus kept you company, and for that, you could never repay him enough. 

The last few days of July flickered by and soon you were preparing yourself to enter the familiar floo network to make your way to the Burrow. It was finally Harry’s 16th birthday, and you intended for it to be a happy one, needing some semblance of normality as war shifted on the horizon. 

“Little bird.” Regulus’ voice pierces through your concentration as you finish taping the last fold of wrapping on Harry’s gift. 

“Hm?” Your distracted hum has him rolling his eyes playfully. 

Tilting his head, he finally speaks up once your eyes meet his, “You do know that there’s a spell to do the wrapping for you?” 

“What? And miss all the fun?” Your teasing words have him looking unimpressed, “Besides, it has more meaning to do it by hand, Reg. You can see all the little imperfections, for example, this little uneven crease on the bottom.” As you show him the bulky wrapping, he can barely disguise his look of amusement.

Shaking his head, he crosses his arms as a pensive look crosses over his expression, “We should try something before you head out.” 

Tying a silk ribbon around the wrapped gift, you peer up at him in interest, “Sure, what’s on your mind?” 

“I think we should try out those charms you found a while back.” His words surprise you since you figured he still held reservations about the risks of the Mens est Oculus charm.   

Sitting up straighter and reaching for your wand, you can’t help but voice your confusion, “Not that I’m opposed to it, but why now?” 

“It would put me at ease to be able to talk to you, just in case.” His words are touching and you’re much too pleased to dismiss his concerns. On the one hand, you were only going to the burrow, on the other, you were aware of how risky it was to be out and about since death eaters were slowly strengthening their forces. 

Giving him an understanding nod, you furrow your brows in concentration before casting the charms. Luckily, you had much time to imprint the movements and incantations in your head so it only took a little pause to cast. 

Quirking your lips in uncertainty, you slowly bring your wand down, unsure if the charms were put into place. 

‘Reggie? Can you hear me?’

‘Impressive work, little bird. Not that I doubted you.’

Gasping loudly at his voice, you reel back in your seat to gape at a pleased looking Regulus, “Woah!” 

Laughing at your shock, Regulus opts to merely respond through your newfound mind link, ‘Woah indeed. Now, it’s about time for you to head out, no?’

As you tucked Regulus’ portrait away underneath your pillow and headed down to the floo network, you couldn’t help the victorious laugh that escaped you. 

It seemed that every summer was more eventful than the last, and you were hopeful that you could spend many more summers in the future with the boy who was slowly winning over your heart. 

Reaching out into your mind link one last time, you send Regulus a fleeting farewell. 

‘Stay safe, little bird.’

And then green flames were filling your vision. 

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[odinsonslut]

Reformed pt. 1.

⊹ genre: fluff mostly

⊹ pairing: draco malfoy x female Hufflepuff reader

⊹ themes: slow-burn 

⊹ summary: reader returns 6 years after the war. To her dismay, draco is her new supervisor while she trains as an auror. He had also managed to integrate himself into all her closest friends’ lives, making him unavoidable. Also unavoidable is the building tension between the two.

⊹ warnings: mentions of death, the loss of close friends, nothing explicit.

⊹ word count: 1.9k

⊹ a/n:  eternally terrible at writing summaries, but this is a storyline I like way too much to leave as a standalone. It might be a two-part situation, maybe even a mini-series!! I don’t have solid plans for it yet; just trying to perfect building tension without moving too fast or being too overwhelming. 

-

It had been 6 years since the war, and since you didn’t complete your last year of study with your graduating class, you ended up going back to school after the war with a few of your classmates, being a small group of students, it gave you the opportunity to connect with Hermione and Ginny. You really hadn’t seen much of either of them before the war being a Hufflepuff with barely any classes paired with Gryffindor. 

The three of us found comfort in each other during the difficult period of readjusting to school life and feeling alone as Ron and Harry went on to be Aurors, and I was only able to keep in touch with Madeline, my best friend, who was in Ireland practising extensive herbology research to come up with more effective antidotes to those still recovering in St Mungo’s. The rest of the group just sort of dispersed. I’d have thought fighting alongside each other and experiencing shared trauma would have brought us even closer together, but the rest of them couldn’t stand any memory of Hogwarts or us as a whole, and I really couldn’t fault any of them for that. Losing our friends was difficult, and we couldn’t just be a group of fun-loving kids hotboxing in the astronomy tower’s store room anymore.

The girls took me in early on. Ginny and I bonded immediately over quidditch. As my team’s chaser for the past 3 years, my affinity for the sport nearly matched hers. We’d spend hours practising on the open field together, preparing her for the scouts attending the games this year. She was a shoo-in for the Holyhead Harpies, and while I’d have loved to pursue a similar career, I wasn’t nearly as talented as she was, despite her efforts to help me succeed alongside her. 

Hermione was pleased to learn that I shared her excitement for learning and punctuality. We’d spend entire nights discussing, sharing, and reading books together in my single-occupied dorm, and since we were N.E.W.T students, we shared most classes, making long nights of studying in the Gryffindor common room all the more convenient. We grew closer the more comfort we grew to find in each other. We’d bake together in the kitchens with the elves once in a while. We spent a great deal of time mapping intricate policies that could be implemented one day in favour of the house elves’ rights movement we aspired to achieve. The three of us would often spend nights in each others’ dorms playing exploding snap, some muggle games Hermione and I introduced to Ginny, doing our makeup, and just being the young, carefree girls we never really got to be. It was freeing to heal parts of me with them. We had been inseparable ever since

-

It had been four years since you graduated from Hogwarts. You achieved exceptional N.E.W.Ts results but were never able to keep a job for longer than 4 months. You’d finally set out to Germany, where you’d spent the last three years in the Aurorial Appraisal program once you finally discovered your passion, and since you fought in the battle of Hogwarts, you were accepted with little difficulty. Upon completing the program, Hermione, as the deputy head of the department of magical law enforcement, whom you’d kept in touch with over the years, managed to secure you a job at the Auror office. You were to be a trainee appointed to a practising Auror for the first 6 months of the job. 

Since the couple planned on moving in together but couldn’t quite afford the rent of an entire apartment on their own, Ron and Hermione invited me to move into the common room of the unit, to which I graciously accepted. 

After a week spent unpacking and finishing our apartment came my first day. Hermione and I travelled to the ministry together since we both avoid apparition outside of dire situations. We bid our goodbyes as I made my way to the Office whose Auror I’d be shadowing for the next six months. I knocked on the door twice and stepped back, expecting the door to open for me. I waited two minutes with no response. I knocked again and again, no response. I huffed in annoyance, pulling open the door for myself to be met with a slender man sitting at his desk, the newspaper open, shielding his face from me.

“Excuse me, sir. I’m here for the briefing and introduction to my supervisor. Didn’t you hear me knock?” You couldn’t help but include the last sentence to what would’ve otherwise been a perfectly suitable first impression. 

“I heard, just wondered how long you’d spend standing around wasting time before taking action”, replied a smooth, steady voice.

I scoffed. “Just thought I’d practice decent manners, but it looks like you’re out of touch with the concept enough not to recognise it.”

He chuckled softly in response, seemingly refreshed by my blunt responses. Finally setting the newspaper down, he extended his right hand towards me as he introduced himself. 

“Draco Malfoy, a pleasure”, he spoke with a friendly smile. I was shell-shocked. His gentle aura seemed so unfamiliar to me. His eyes seemed to convey friendliness. His cheeks were lightly contoured with smile lines, and all I could think about was how it was possible for a man like him to form them. The only thing that looked familiar to me was the way his nose scrunched when he smiled, as it contorted into the same position when he sneered, which is predominantly how he addressed me throughout our years at Hogwarts. 

“I remember”. I spoke harshly, allowing his hand to float awkwardly in the air as mine stayed glued to my sides, refusing to meet his palm.

He dropped his hand eventually, his eyes leaving mine to stare at the floor, hoping to think of something to alleviate the tension. My demeanour softened. Even the aversion of his eyes seemed like such a vulnerable display for someone like him whom, before this, I had only seen cling to his pride and perception. I softly told him how he should address me, and he nodded curtly in response, not wanting to say the wrong thing again.

My day was spent in the ministry itself. Draco took me through the theoretical aspects of training to begin with. Our conversation didn’t stray much from the work discussion after our initial friction at his conversational attempts. 

-

Hermione got back home 3 hours after I made it home due to the additional responsibility that came with her position, I deduced. 

I bombarded her before the door even shut behind her. 

“You will not believe whom I’m training under for the next 6 months”, I practically shouted at her.

She kicked me in my shin with her sharp heel. I immediately keeled over, ready to over-exaggerate the pain I was feeling, when I realised her reasoning. Malfoy walked in behind her, straining his signature awkward smile that really only seemed to make its appearance whenever I was around him. I returned the uncomfortable smile before turning to Hermione with a pointed look.

“I figured the two of you would have bonded today. Guess assigning you to each other with no warning didn’t turn out the way I had hoped,” She spoke apologetically. 

“Draco works directly under me, which is why I trusted him with you. We all get together every Monday for dinner. Tonight’s our’s since we’re breaking into the new kitchen; Malfoy makes a solid saffron-infused risotto.” She continued.

I could barely process any information when even more people walked into our now cramped entryway. Ginny ran into my arms as we both fell onto the floor, where we settled in a tight hug gushing over seeing each other. 

Draco shuffled into the kitchen with groceries and a fresh baguette in hand, the rest of them piled into the newly furnished living room, and Ginny and I settled on the floor, refusing to detangle from our now loose hug while we caught up.

-

“It’s so surreal to me like you guys actually hang out with Malfoy? Sure you don’t keep him around as a makeshift house elf?” I asked, motioning to the kitchen. 

Ginny and I had finally made our way to the living room to join the rest. After greeting Harry and the twins, I joined Hermione on the only beanbag she begrudgingly allowed Ron and me to tarnish her architecturally detailed living room with since it was a neutral tan. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “He’s changed a lot as a person, and you better get used to being around him. You’re still due to be partners after your training program, you know.” 

I groaned immediately. “Why couldn’t I have been put under Harry or Ron?” I whined to Hermione 

“They’re already partnered with each other”, she consoled. “Plus, you two have a lot in common. His food’s even better than yours,” she joked.

I gasped and smacked her arm. “I know where you live, Hermione Granger”, I fake sneered at her. 

“You should join him in the kitchen”, Ginny spoke from the couch beside us “at least make an effort with the man before deciding you can’t stand him”.

-

“Though I’m sure this makes for a priceless view, you could make yourself useful. It is your kitchen.” He spoke, jolting me from my fixed position at the doorway.

“You haven’t left it long enough in the water,” I said as he lifted the saffron-infused water. 

“Take over for me then”, he smirked as he took a step back from the stove.

I was taken aback by his newfound confidence but refused to let it overpower mine, so I walked up to the stove directly in front of him, taking the wooden spatula from his hand on my way over. I lowered the heat and allowed the dish to simmer to deglaze the wine, entranced by the warmth of his breath down my neck, the heat of his body just millimetres away from touching mine.

“Are you actually going to do anything?” He whispered just above my ear, tickling the skin surrounding it, the feeling moving all the way down my spine.

I failed to respond to him. “Looks about done.” He poured the saffron mixture in and picked the spatula back out of my hand. He stirred the saffron in, not moving from his spot behind me.

He moved, and I immediately exhaled at the blow of cold air that came with his absence. I didn’t miss it for long before he was right back, just a hair strand away from me. He dipped a small teaspoon into the dish and put it up to my lips, I tilted my head up, looking at him questioningly.

His soft fingers took hold of my chin, moving it back down and tapping my lips “taste”, he said. My mouth immediately opened in response. I nearly moaned at the soft, rich, perfectly seasoned risotto. He chuckled a breathy laugh.

“I’ll plate these. Why don’t you tell everyone dinner’s ready” he instructed, once again detaching from his spot behind me.

I went to do just that when I was cut off mid-announcement. 

“What on earth did he do to you to leave you such a breathy mess?” asked George almost incredulously

“breathy and positively flushed” Fred chided

I heard Draco’s hearty laugh from the dinner table

I glared at the pair, ignoring Hermione’s inquisitive smile

-

End

[foxes-that-run]

Waglor - Tayvis Timeline - Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce

30 June - Travis posts video of making friendship bracelets with NFL players

7 July - Taylor posts for 4th July and says "see you tonight Kansas Cityy"

8 July - Travis attends Eras and Chiefs post a custom painted helmet

26 July TK talked about Taylor on podcast, she later said to Time Magazine they got in contact "after that." (25:14)

"I was disappointed that she doesn't talk before or after her shows... so I was a little butthurt I didn’t get to hand her one of the bracelets I made for her…. I received a bunch of them being there but I wanted to give Taylor Swift one with my number on it" says Travis "Your number as in 87 or your phone number?" responds Jason "You know which one."

2 August - Travis tells more media he wants to meet her (4:40)

6 August - Travis team mate says she is his celebrity crush (x)

31 August - Travis talks about Taylor again (x 37:20) Jason Kelce asks “Have you found out what Taylor Swift thinks of your moustache?” - “Um yeah we’re not going to bring up Taylor Swift... but something tells me she’s gonna like it”

12 September - ET : "Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce Are Not Officially Dating, Source Says" someone, maybe tree, buys domains with their names

14 September Travis talks about Taylor on the podcast again.

17 and 18 September - NFL commentators make Taylor Swift song title puns.

18 September - Cartier necklace again

24 September - Taylor attends first Travis game, Harry holds Taylor R's hand on the 26th. Taylor and TK are 'hanging out' the next day. Travis later confirms they had “Taylor and I knew each other for close to a month before she came to that first game” IE less than a month since they met. The drive off in a convertible and go to drinks. Travis parents and friends at restaurant.

27 September - Brags about 400% increase in Jersey sales on podcast (x). Heinz tweets seemingly ranch. (x) PR for everyone.

1 October - Travis at Taylors NY Apartment before Metlife game

3 October - US Weekly : "Why Taylor Swift Isn’t Hiding Her Romance With Travis Kelce: She Has ‘High Hopes’ (Exclusive)" Travis then talks about her a bunch in press conferences

10 October - Taylor flew to Kansas after TKs birthday, covered in media.

11 October - Eras movie premiere, no Travis.

12 October - Blind that Tks NDA is long and he blabbed. Taylor attends game.

15 October - TS watches TK games x3: 24 September - 22 October.

TS & TK on SNL 16th. HS California leaked neither seen for days. 23 Oct video of HS & TR in cafe.

19 October - ET - "Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce Are 'All In' and He Plans to Visit Her on Eras International Tour (Exclusive)"

23 October - first time they are seen alone.. at a steakhouse nearly one of the only times actually.

27 October 1989 TV. Harry still MIA. Taylors Jet in Kansas (Travis) for halloween night but not pictured.

4 November - Taylor seen in NYC with Selena Gomez, Sophie Turner, Cara Delevigne, Gigi Hadid, Brittany Mahomes and other NFL Chiefs WAG's at Bond St Sushi and later Zero Bond.

9 November Video of Harry’s buzz cut from 8 days earlier posted during U2 concert, same day it is reported TK will go to the Eras tour.

11 November TK at Eras in Argentina, (x)(x)(x) Taylor sings IION/OOTW mashup and end game, replaces lyrics to Karma with guy on the chiefs and run/kiss TK in view of crowds with photographer. Taylor’s dad and brother position TK and get of view of kiss, TK waves to crowd

15 November - Reports parents would meet game (x) but Taylor's shows rescheduled as fan passed away.

20 November - Wall Street Journal Article where Travis's PR team say (x)

27 November Taylor’s plane in KC, she’s not seen. Travis bought groceries and coffee alone. Reported staying in different houses because she is not seen with him.

30 November - Taylor and Blake share what looks like after party photos. TS plane arrives in Maine 10:30pm, Taylor not seen, it arrives in KC at 1:30am. Taylor not seen since premiere.

1 December - Taylor later seen in KC at Christmas party wearing a squirrel sweater to address meme that TK can't spell.... because he can't. Taylor likes tweet implying sweet nothing was about Paul McCartney (x) Extremely problematic Tweets of Travis surface and are verified by Snopes. They are ableist, fat shaming, sexist - but one has an innocent spelling error about a squirrel. In a master stroke of PR Taylor and Travis wear matching squirrel shirts to a party and it somehow all goes away.

3 December Taylor dresses like as it was MV wears Cartier necklace from May. Plane parked at KC again not seen again.

6 December - Taylor time person of year, slays, reputation hinting. Mentioned Paul McCartney again. Spoke about TK and made some pointed remarks about not being hidden, described time dating Joe as lost tine. Returns to NY and walks in jimmy choos with an Eiffel Tower and Big Ben in heels

10 December - Taylor at another game, she went to them all and wore Chiefs mech everytime, she ordered vintage merch too

13 December - Taylor has birthday celebrations with Selena day before then part with Jack, Blake, Zoe and many others on birthday. Wears opal ring said to be from TK who couldn’t travel from KC. Taylor wears an opal and topaz ring she shows off in photos. Pap photos of Keleigh admiring the ring on the street.

21 December fans/People/Deux Moi had speculated the opal ring was from TK. Keleigh Teller posts a video of her giving Taylor the ring, people immediately corrects the record.

25 December - Taylor and her family including Andrea go to watch TK play football. TK loses and throws his helmet near bystanders. Jack shares an IG story of Taylor in an Eagles Shirt and another snippet of Merry Christmas Please don't call

31 December Taylor at KC NYE game and party, PDA. (x x x)

2024

7 January -Taylor at Golden Globes in LA.

12 January - reports Travis and Taylor are fighting

29 January - inappropriate viral deep fake images of Taylor. X bans ‘Taylor Swift’ search. TK kiss Back to Nashville after 10 hours.

30 January - Taylor search on now kiss viral. 

4 February - Grammys, LA TTPD announced

9 February - Travis Kelce hasn’t spoken to Taylor in a week since the Grammys, didn't know the rest of the line in Karma or what country she was in and said he felt the power of his beard.

11 February - TK wins the Super Bowl. Taylor fly's Tokyo-LV-Melbourne to be there and drunk dances. TK yelled at and pushed the coach then partied after kids were killed at parade for Chiefs. Taylor makes ick face when TK screams 'Viva Las Vegas'

15 February - Daily Mail: “Put the beer down, Travis - it's not IF Taylor dumps you... but WHEN: After the coach bashing, drunken disorder and tone-deaf post-shooting selfies, image-obsessed Swift will now shake off brand Kelce”

23 February - Travis comes to Australia, not for the 4 days Taylor had off but when she went back to work. Taylor fly's jet back to the US to bring Travis and friend to Australia. Taylor goes to the Zoo twice, once with the band and once with Travis. Travis rents a silver Lamborghini and drives it too fast and runs red lights in the Sydney CBD. Travis comes to one concert. Scott Swift again lined up TK for a photo ops to kiss Taylor. Surprise songs HYGTG and White Horse/Coney Island mash up with Sabrina Carpenter.

7 March - visit gardens on top of mall in Singapore

8 March TK at the Singapore show, brings a friend and manager, TK texting during IKYWT.

9 March - TK at last eras for 2 nights looks bored, a bit dazed with glasses in dark, phone taken off him, no kiss at end.

10 March - highly publicised that Taylor and Travis attended exclusive Gucci post Oscars party where photos are banned, Taylor not seen. 5 days later a photo of Travis holding an Oscar inside the Gold party…. No Taylor… TK liked photo with trump

12-14 March - TK no Taylor at Justin Timberlake concert and lunch. Taylor hasn’t been seen since Singapore.

16 March - page 6 reports Bob Iger who paid Taylor $70m for the eras movie, says saw TS & TK in no photo event.

20 March - on his podcast TK talked about babies life&style. Blind item that Taylor doesn’t appreciate narrative contribution.

24 March - Taylor seen for the first time in a week at Nobu with Travis, Taylor stern words. TK sweatpants with holes. The 300 Bahama's photos all drop the next day.

1 April - TK and umbrellor arrive in LA, plane flew L.A.-Nashville-Philly (his brother)-L.A. for Easter, Taylor not seen for a week, not at iHeartawards. TR Columbia

5 April - Taylor L.A diner Barney’s diner no TK

7 April - rumour Taylor’s jet went to Nashville.

9 April - Taylor seen in a car LA TK dinner

Taylor “recently” with Selena, Sabrina. TK graduation, blind drinking too much.

12 April - DM: “Taylor Swift must be getting sick of this” about TK, Taylor & TK sushi park in the evening.

13 April - Taylor and TK at Coachella, watch bleachers and ice spice, TK very possessive manhandling, picking her up, shaking and smothering her. Taylor looks out of it, happy

19 April - TTPD

25 April - Taylor, Gigi, TK & Bradley Cooper (Gigi's partner) dinner in California. Blind MH didn't sign an NDA and there is mutually assured destruction. ET (x)

27 April - TK and Taylor at Mahomes charity event, Travis embarrassing, yells viva Las Vegas again and Taylor looks intoxicated /out of it while he pulls her along. TK party no TS in Vegas. Plane flew to LA then Nashville next day (Taylor wore the Cartier necklace to after party)

3 May - Taylor on way to London ahead of first Paris show 9 May. Travis seen at a Chainsmokers gig within 2 hours.

6 May - TK partying alone again. Taylor not seen since charity thing

8 May - Taylor arrived in Paris, meaning she probably stayed in London for 5 days.

9 May - new eras setlist with TTPD in Paris.

11 May - Taylor seen traveling to hotel in Paris.

12 May - TK eras last Paris show only. Alchemy/treacherous and Begin again/paris, said BA was was memory of MV in Paris

17 May - Taylor and TK in Lake Como, wears Cartier Necklace. Not seen with TK for a month after this.

25 May -  Taylor flew to London after show, not seen

26 May - Travis booed at NBA playoffs

31 May - Taylor seen at Kit Kat Club in London. Photos of Travis with Margaret and the Mahomes with Jack leak.

13 June - Taylor comments on another WAGs livestream of ring ceremony.

23 June - Travis attends Eras, not seen with Taylor for 5 weeks. Went on stage in the Clara bow part forcing Taylor on stage for ICDIWABH

[luciluck2046]

Hiii, i wanted to ask

What fandoms are you in?

OH HO HO, HOW MANY???

~You don't even know what you're asking me to confess

I don't have to tell you anything at all

UNLESS~

Okay sooooooooo out of the music lirics. Here they are on categories. If youw ant to see them look under the cut because they are A LOT

Video Games

Undertale

Deltarune

Omori(kinda)

Any Undertale fangame

Stardew Valley

Minecraft

Roblox(i guess?)

Cult of the lamb

Among Us

Pony Town

Cookie Run

Gacha(I DON'T WATCH THE VIDS ANYMORE IT'S JUST EASY TO DESIGN MY OCS ON THERE)

Duck Life(any game)

Sims4

DDLC(Doki Doki Literature Club)

TCOAAL(The Coffin Of Andy And LeyLey)

GTA(we got controllers with cake before GTA6 💀)

Idk if this one counts tho but uhhh DUOLINGO

Shows, Series and Movies

The Owl House

The Amazing World Of Gumball

The Amazing Digital Circus(before the brain rot came)

Harley Quinn(that super cool series on HBO)

Suicide Squad(series? Can I call it series? It has an anime too now, not just two movies...)

My Little Pony(I DIDN'T WATCH A LOT OF IT WHEN I WAS LITTLE DON'T JUDGE ME)

How To Train Your Dragon(kinda)

Hazbin Hotel

Helluva Boss

Shorts Wars (bro that shit goes crazy)

Lucifer(just started it)

SMG4

Idk if this counts but ailaughatmyownjokes(Silvia)

Jelly Bean is bald & Fairy Bread army (if you know, you know)

Steven Universe(I just started it)

Rick and Morty

Vtuber shorts. I don't watch videos but HAVE YOU SEEN FILLIAN IN ACTION???

Edit: Fairly oddparents too

Ducktales

Books(internet comics included)

Warrior Cats

Harry Potter

Percy Jackson

Magnus Chase

Kane Chronicles

Hades x Persephone series by Scarlett St. Clair

Twin Runes(by @akanemnon)

Redeemer's Path(by @ultrabean)

Misc

Dragon Puppet making

Artistic things(except dancing)

And I think those are all! Many, right? XD

(i have way too much free time on my hands)