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tomatette · 2 years ago

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Prompt #11 - Vampire @huxloween

Stensland and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Night (and how it turned out sort of okay in the end, after all)

„Feck you! Feck you, Mister!” Stensland turned around to give Paul one last, withering glare, only to face the closed door instead.

That utter prick!

Stensland fought back tears. Why? Why did he always end up with people like that? It seems like he was always attracted to the wrong sort of person. Either the ladies who just wanted to use him for his body, or the blokes who were so deep in the closet, they should rightfully smell of mothballs and laundry detergent.

GodDAMMIT!

Honestly, when he first discovered that he swung both ways, he’d been utterly delighted. After all, it meant he needn’t limit his search for his soulmate, the love of his life, to just one gender anymore. But it didn’t take long for his elation to turn sour. Because, really? He could understand why the ladies so often complained about how men were treating them now. The amount of entitled arsehole-ness he’d been subjected to ever since he had started dating blokes …

But then, dating was probably a bit of an exaggeration, sadly. Like Paul (that cunt!) they usually just took him somewhere for a quick shag, only to kick him out right after without even a bit of cuddling afterwards. It was demeaning. Utterly and thoroughly so.

Furiously, he blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall. It wasn’t that he was ashamed to cry. But gits like Paul didn’t deserve to have even as much as a single tear shed over them.

“Feck you, Paul” he hissed one last time, before he took off in the direction of the nearest subway station.

It was the wee hours of the morning, and the streets were pretty quiet save for a taxi passing by every now and then, and the occasional drunk stumbling along the sidewalk.

He patted the back pocket of his mustard yellow corduroy trousers for his purse, when he saw the lights of the subway station’s entrance in a distance. But – fecking shit – it wasn’t there. Which probably meant that he’d left it back at Paul’s.

Oh, shite!

Whatever, it couldn’t be helped. All his money – which wasn’t much, but needed to last for the rest of the week – and his monthly ticket were inside, so he couldn’t just say ‘feck it’ and leave it there. As much as he loathed the idea of going back, he didn’t have a lot of other options. None, to be exact.

With a deep sigh, he turned around, resigning himself to the humiliation of having to grovel before the bloke who had kicked him out right after giving him the most spectacularly mediocre orgasm of his life.

He was about half-way there, when Stensland passed the entrance to a dark, narrow alley and heard something that made him stop in his tracks. A moan, yet not one that was emitted in the throes of passion, but one of pain and despair.

Hesitating, he peered into the alley, but it was so narrow, the lights from the streetlamps couldn’t illuminate more than the first metre into it.

Stensland wasn’t a complete bloody flute (though some would say the jury was still out on that one). He knew it wasn’t the smartest call to make, but he ventured into the alley anyway. Just a quick peek to make sure no one was dying or anything, so he could be back on his merry way without having to carry a guilty conscience around with him for the next couple days.

It took a moment for his eyes to get at least a little used to the darkness. He wrinkled his nose. The place was cluttered with junk in various stages of decay, and it reeked of piss and other unsavoury things he didn’t even want to try and distinguish.

“Hello?” His voice sounded overly loud in the quiet of the night, and he felt kind of stupid for even calling out in the first place. Clearly, he had been mistaken and there was nobody there.

He was about to turn around, when he heard it again. Closer this time.

“Hello?” he tried again, despite his better judgement. Honestly, he should have just called 911 and be done with it. But no, of course he had to go check himself first like a total nutjob.

Well, maybe he was a bloody flute after all.

Speaking of ‘bloody’ – was that a leg peeking out from behind the overflowing waste container?

Unthinking, he rushed forward, finding that, yes, it was a leg. And one that was attached to a body, no less. A distinctly male, and very impressive body, with a chest as wide as a barrel and biceps the chap could probably easily squash Stensland’s skull with. If he wasn’t currently busy writhing in agony that was.

“Hey”, Stensland squatted down next to him. “Are you okay?”

And what kind of question was that? It was pretty obvious the bloke was as far from okay as one could get. Stensland couldn’t find any obvious injuries, but that didn’t have to mean they didn’t exist. He wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to first aid. Actually, he had no clue what to do whatsoever. He kind of pitied the man that he, of all people, had been the one to find him. But then, he figured he was still better than no one at all.

The bloke’s only reply was another pained groan, which … okay, that was definitely a case for a professional, which he very assuredly was not. He took his phone out and flipped it open (yes, it was an old flip-phone, sue him), and deflated when the display was completely black. Dammit, he must have forgotten to charge it. Again. How unfortunate.

“Okay, Stensland, think … Think!”

He figured, it might be a good idea to take a closer look at the chap, to try to figure out what the feck was wrong with him. Maybe he was just completely rat-arsed or something. Highly unlikely, but a bloke could hope, right?

He bent forward and could finally see them man’s face – well, as much as possible in the rather dim lighting. The first thing Stensland noticed was how pale he was. As white as a sheet, making the smattering of moles on his skin stand out even more, like an inverted night sky.

His hair was dark and on the longer side, probably in an attempt to cover his rather big ears. Stensland caught himself thinking they were kind of charming, which probably was completely inappropriate, given the situation, but he couldn’t help it. And they matched his other features too, because everything about him was … big. His nose was wide and long, his dark eyes deep-set and his mouth slightly crooked with lips that were currently pressed into a tight line.

He didn’t really seem to see Stensland at first, staring right through him, pupils blown wide. But then he blinked, and it was like a fog was lifted from his eyes. He gasped and then tried to scramble away, his attempt hindered by the dirty wall behind him.

“Go!”

“What?” Stensland was utterly flabbergasted. Of all the reactions he had expected, this wasn’t one of them. “I … you need help.”

“Go! Away!” he bit out, between harsh pants and pained moans. “I don’t know how long I can hold back. You have to leave. Now.”

“But …”

“Now!” He bared his teeth, and Stensland froze when he noticed the overly long canines curving over the bloke’s fat bottom lip.

What. The. Feck?

Another groan – but this time it turned into a growl half-way. And there was feral glint to his eyes that had not been there before.

It was that, more than anything else, that freed Stensland from his blank stupor. He scrambled back, or tried to at least, but he wasn’t fast enough. Everything happened so quickly, he could barely comprehend it. One moment he was sitting with his ass on the cold pavement, the next, he was pulled against the man’s (creature’s? thing’s) broad chest, manhandled like he was nothing more than a human-sized doll.

“Wait,” he pleaded, but he wasn’t sure his voice was even heard.

His heart was hammering and his whole body was thrumming with adrenaline. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him. Monsters were not supposed to exist. They were nothing but products of overimaginative minds. They had not business mixing with the real world.

His attempt to fight the man off were doomed to fail from the start, but he tried anyway. He kicked and scratched and punched, but it was like attacking a slab of concrete. If the man was feeling it, he sure as hell didn’t let it on.

The next thing Stensland felt was a sharp pain lancing through his neck, followed by a cold sort of numbness, like from anaesthesia. There was a sucking, slurping sound, and his foggy mind idly wondered how long it would take for him to die of blood-loss.

He wouldn’t mind for it to take a while. Now, that the pain was gone, it was kind of nice, even. Like floating on air.

Well, that was it, then, he thought, only mildly disappointed that he never had to chance to meet his other half, when his vision started to get grey and fuzzy at the edges.

Stensland usually woke up slowly and in increments. Not this time, though. His eyes snapped open, and he knew exactly where he was, and why.

What he didn’t know was, how he was still alive.

Carefully, he prodded the two little puncture wounds on the side of his neck with his fingers. They stung and felt slightly sticky, but weren’t actively bleeding, at least.

“Are you okay?”

His head whipped into the direction the voice had come from. Then he scowled at the looming figure hiding in the shadows. “What do you think? You bit me, you fecking animal!”

“I’m sorry,” came the soft reply. “I didn’t mean to, but … I was just so hungry when you found me. I lost control.”

Stensland scoffed. “Obviously.” He squinted into the darkness. “Are you wearing a fecking cowl? What is this, the bloody Middle Ages? Are you a monk? The least you can do, after what you did to me, is show me your goddamned face, don’t you think?”

After a moment of hesitation, the other man pulled back the hood of his jet back robes. His face shone cool and smooth like alabaster, but his eyes were of a surprisingly warm brown. There was regret in them. And self-loathing. Both things Stensland was painfully familiar with.

He watched him chew on his bottom lip with remarkably unremarkable looking canines.

“Better,” he said. “And now – care to explain the meaning of all this? Maybe start with your name, if you don’t mind.”

“Ben,” he said, looking down at his feet sheepishly. “My name is Ben and … I know it sounds crazy, but I’m … um … I’m sort of … a vampire?”

“Don’t worry,” Stensland deadpanned. “I have the marks to prove it, so I’m not overly sceptical. I’m Stensland, by the way. I’d say it was nice to meet you, but I doubt you’d believe me, given the circumstances.”

Ben barked a startled laugh. “I … You’re taking this remarkably well. Aren’t you scared?”

“Should I be?”

“No.” Ben’s shoulders dropped. He very much reminded Stensland of a scolded puppy. “I didn’t meant to drink from you,” he said. “I had managed to avoid attacking anyone for two weeks now, and at first it wasn’t so hard, but …”

“I assume it got harder in time?”

He nodded. “In fact it got worse and worse, up to the point where my instincts took over. I … I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to do … this. I stopped, once I got back to my senses, but it was too late. You were … You would have died, so …” Shrugging, he avoided looking at Stensland. “I guess you could say that I turned you. Even though I didn’t really have a clue what I was doing. I’m still pretty new to this, if you couldn’t tell.” Bashfully, he looked up. “Was it the wrong call to make? I didn’t get the chance to ask you what you wanted. I …”

“Are you asking me if I would have wanted you to let me die?”

He nodded.

“Hell, no!” he exclaimed. “I’m glad you did this. I … would have said yes, you know … if you’d asked me.”

“You would have?” Ben looked at him with an almost hopeful expression on his unusual but handsome face.

“Yes. And now, where are we going to stay? Don’t tell me you live in this dirty alley. I have to admit, I’m not too keen on appropriating some damp crypt or something.” He looked at Ben, frowning. “Do we have to sleep in coffins? I don’t have one, you know? I would honestly prefer my own bed, if that’s even an option. We could crash at my place. It’s a bit of a dump, but you don’t mind, do you?”

When Ben smiled, it took Stensland’s breath away. Or something like that, because breathing wasn’t a thing he did anymore. But, fecking hell, he was gorgeous. And maybe, Stensland thought, he had just had such an unlucky hand at picking potential partners in the past, because he’d been looking for them among the wrong species altogether?

Well, he’d see where the tingly feeling in his stomach would take him. But for now …

“C’mon,” he said, extending his hand towards Ben. “Let’s get home. I really need a shower, and,” he sniffed and curled his nose, “you should have one too. And afterwards, you can tell me everything I need to know about being a vampire. Alright?”

Ben nodded, smiling brightly again. “Alright.”

#huxloween2023 #huxloween #armitage hux #stensland #crash pad #ben solo #stensland x ben solo #mine #this is pure idiocy #Kylux #kylux adjacent #allthestuffimade

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sticky-badger · 10 months ago

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Hihi Rachi, so sorry to hear about your anxiety 😭

I've been there so I hope this helps! First up we got some Cardfight Vanguard boys! Jinki, and Tohya ❤️

After them I'll go with Joshua Kiryu from The World Ends With You

Mr. Aventurine from Honkai Star Rail

And I'll finish it off with some Horimiya; Miyamura and Shu! ❤️

Hope these help! I didn't give any info so you can have fun guessing but if you're curious by all means I can fill you in on their personalities 🤣

Hope your meeting goes well; I believe in you! You got this and you're worth standing up for! 😊 -Sheridan

Hi hon! Thank you so much, its not going to be easy, but imma kick that bitches ass XD❤️ Now, gimme these bois! The only one from this list I know is Miyamura! Never finished the show, but I got my lip peirced so I could have his jewellery XD

Jinki: Oooooh! He's just a babeeey! General producer? Of what?? Baby-ness?? I don't care if he's actually like 30, I'm branding him babey. Feminine babey. 6/10. Cute, but maybe not husbando for me XD

Tohya: Sassy. Sassy mumkey. I'm loving the lil ponytail! Yes. Slay. Pose! Work it! He's a queen for sure. Again, 6/10, maybe too sassy. Won't lift a finger to help with housework cus he's too fabulous XD

Joshua: Oh. Oh. Hello? Dark eyes. Emo bangs. Sly lil smile? Oh he's a good looking chap. Mhm. Mayhap too young for me, (gotta be careful now that I'm old 🤣), but he's very cute! I wanna pet his hair. It looks so fluffyyyy! 7/10!

Mr. Aventurine: Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Father? Sorry. Oh yes. He's- Mhm. Yes scrumpy lookin. I love his eyes ❤️0❤️ ..... Oh he's a gambler??? RAH! RAAAAH! *bites him nicely* Yeah I'm here for this guy. MUAH! 9/10 juuust because he's got that sexy shifty look about him.

Miyamaru: Waaaa! I did have a huge crush on him (before the haircut 😭) He's such a sweetheart. I still love him very much. He's a good boi, loyal, caring, a free thinker 10/10 husband ^^

Shu: Hmmm. I never git far into the show, I don't think I ever met this guy, if I did I don't remember 🥲 He looks very sweet. Green hair uuuusually = green flag. Gentle, quiet mayhap. He'd make you a hot coco then use you as his lap heater ^^ 8/10. Cutie patootie.

MUAH! Love you buddy! Thank you for your help 🥰❤️

#rachi roo #asks #rate your husbands #rating anime fellas #the lip piercing healed up ages ago tho 😭#imma get it done again now

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dufferpuffer · 6 months ago

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yeah this tho imho even arthur is kinda bigoted to muggles. not in an intentional#malicious way. but he did still grow up as a pureblood as has some unconscious biases#so while he doesn't want to see muggles hurt and stands up for their rights and is progressive for his environment#he's also kinda condescending and doesn't really see them as equals or even bother#to learn much about them#but at least he tries. unlike everyone else#Harry Potter#wizarding world I don't agree. Arthur is earnest and not bigoted at all. So I'm gonna defend my man: Mr Weasel <3 I think, while some biases etc. will of course exist simply due to being raised in a different culture, he does REALLY well. Been reading GoF and Arthur is blowing my mind.

For the Quidditch world cup: His Muggle clothes are accurate - golfing jumper, belt and jeans... Other wizards are wearing ponchos and kilts, tweed and thigh-length galoshes, plus fours and women's night gowns... His tents, too, look suitably muggle from the outside when others have castles and shamrock covered mansions for tents. He is one of few not using magical fire etc. He DELIGHTS in using things like matches, not because they are 'quaint' but because they are ingenious.

But my favourite is meeting the Dursleys. He busts through their living room wall and doesn't instantly realize whats wrong with that - but DOES realize their distress. He explains why he came out of their fireplace - and why it went a little wrong. He assures he can put it right again. He makes small talk in ways that are not condescending - complimenting their house, trying to find common ground in interests like plugs and eckeltricity - and the woes of wives not understanding your hobbies, eh Mr Dursley? He is sweet when Dudley came into the room, frightened.

He isn't making their Muggle-ness a spectacle. He isn't treating them like zoo animals. They are people and he is visiting their home.

They are such people, that when they don't say goodbye to Harry, he doesn't firmly insist they behave (like they are children), nor shake his head at 'Muggle manners', nor magically persuade them... he utilities the polite but sharp weapon of Mild British Indignation. He isn't afraid to get a little angry but remains a Gentleman.

When Dudley was choking on his own tongue - the first thing he does is assure them he can fix it and explain what has happened. He sticks around to help, rather than leaving them to suffer like Hagrid did - even with things being thrown at his head. He understands that they are assholes - but being gits doesn't mean you should use terrifying magic against them as revenge.

This is in a world that would rather Obliviate the stress away from a Muggle than try to explain anything. He ABSOLUTELY see's them as equal humans that should be respected. He will defend them with his fists. He believes in explaining things even if it is more difficult than just controlling them magically. He DOES bother to learn about them, how they dress and how they camp, he does his homework - he just has blind spots. He even let Ron know you shouldn't shout into a fellytone.

Arthur is perfect, lovely, delightful and sweet gentleman. Stands up for others fiercely and is very aware of power dynamics. His interest in Muggle things is more than just thinking their stuff is neat. The idea of teasing, tricking, scaring and hurting Muggles is horrible to him not because Muggles are weak little animals - but because Muggle-Wizard relations is genuinely important to him. He stays in a disrespected part of the Ministry so that he can be in a position to deal with Muggles personally, to help and soothe and explain things in ways other Wizards wouldn't bother to.

Thinking about Dumbledore and his family: In the same vein are there any laws to protect wizards and witches who get hurt by muggles? Besides erasing their memories? I'm thinking about harry and snape and other half bloods and muggleborns with magic and ending up stuck with abusive muggles. Especially underage witches and wizards. If they defend themselves will it end up like Harry's situation and Arianna Dumbledores? Or Credence from fantastic beasts?

nope. i don't think the wizarding world has a modern concept of social services or human rights or any of that stuff. they've been cut off from muggle society for hundreds of years and i think a lot of modern advancements in attitudes didn't happen with them. so like i don't think they really have a concept of an abusive home or of that being a bad thing that the law should prevent.

#hp #arthur weasley #this is more for my own sake #Been falling in love with Arthur on this re-read - no idea why people discuss Molly so much positively and treat Arthur as just... there.#MOLLY is unintentionally bigoted - even against werewolves - Arthur is the one correcting her.

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rad-roche · 2 years ago

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So, I will admit that I have no idea what's going.

But by name alone... wouldn't ghost in the shell fit more Nick than DiMA?? (again, no idea what that is in any way shape or form :P I could be totally wrong... in that case, enlighten me, if you wish please? :D)

oh i'm talking about smash hit, deserves-all-the-praise-it-gets movie from 1998!

i won't get too too much into it in case you want to see it yourself and it's really something on the first watch, but the long and short of it is 'robotic cop housing the brain (or potentially the memories of) a woman gets entangled in a case involving sentient computer twin'. absolutely shreds

#DiMA #stand alone complex (the tv show) is also somehow a 10/10. ghost in the shell stan account #motoko is SO complicated i have GiTS thoughts at all times #very talky and cerebral. gives its audience a lot of credit and boy is that refreshing #'ghosts' in series are your 'you-ness' basically. like a soul but not quite #so they'd both have ghosts

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books1031 · 2 years ago

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When You Know, You Know.

June 1999 - Hogwarts

When you know you know.

That’s what they always say right? That when you find the person you’re meant to be with you know they’re the one. You know.

That’s what Harry believed anyways. He knew right from the start that Draco was the one he’s meant to be with. Draco sodding Malfoy. Harry wanted to laugh, the complete unexpected-ness of it all.

When him and Draco started their fooling around in November Harry could hardly believe it, that he could enjoy being around the git, not only that, but that he craved it. That he would think about Draco even when the man wasn’t around, how he would imagine his input into a conversation he’d be having with Ron and Hermione.

He knew that Draco was the one when he couldn’t get him off of his mind, when he was the one he thought about morning, noon, and night.

The two agreed to keep it a secret for the time being, that they didn’t want to possibly ruin what they had going on by the public sharing their constant opinions about it, especially since Harry was more famous than ever.

Not to mention that he hadn’t even come out to anyone. By the way that Ginny would glance at him he had a feeling she knew something, but he didn’t think Hermione and Ron suspected anything, especially not that he was dating Malfoy.

But now it was June 1999 and they were all getting ready to leave Hogwarts for the last time. Headmistress McGonagall and Hermione both insisted that they come back for a proper last year to get their N.E.W.T.’s and Harry could hardly resist the two of them.

It was only a few days before getting their exam results and leaving the castle, and it had become more pressing that Harry tell his friends about all that’s been going on.

Hermione and Ron kept talking about getting a flat with Harry once they graduate and although Harry was very much so in favour, Harry also wanted to live with Draco. He had already asked the blond who was very much surprised and very much so said yes.

So now Harry had to tell his friends.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, taking him out of his thoughts. He let out a hum in response, indicating that he was listening. “You alright there? You’ve been completely out for a few minutes now. Sickle for your thoughts?”

He turned to look at her as they walked. She was holding hands with Ron on her right, Harry on her left. The two were looking at him with a concerned look on their faces as though he had done something out of the ordinary.

“I’m alright, sorry. I was just thinking about the future.” He coughed awkwardly. He wasn’t entirely sure on how he was going to tell them.

“It’ll be great mate! We’ve already been looking at flats and I think we found this bloody brilliant one in south London- not too far from the ministry.” Ron cut in, excitement seeping through his tone.

Harry smiled. He really did want this future with his friends, but he knew that he had to be honest with them first. But it was so damn hard. With Ron excitedly talking about all the fun they’re going to have.

What If they don’t accept him. What if they find out that he’s gay and they’re not okay with it. What then?

Harry stopped walking, his thoughts overwhelming him. “Mate?” Ron asked after a moment, the two noticing that he had stopped.

“I’m gay!” He blurted out and then quickly covered his mouth with his hands. His eyes widened as he realised that he officially couldn’t take it back. “I’m gay.” He said again this time calmer, he looked down. Not wanting to see his friends’ reactions in case it wasn’t one he was hoping for.

It took less than a second for Hermione to have her arms wrapped around him. “Oh Harry, that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with being gay.”

Ron joined their hug a moment later. “Mate, is this what’s had you so nervous all day? You were worried about how we would react?” Ron asked quietly.

Harry didn’t say anything, he just nodded into Hermione’s shoulder, his eyes tearing up a bit as they continued to hug.

“Harry, we fought together, we grew up together, you’re my brother. Gay or Straight it doesn’t matter, I’ll always love you.” Ron said and squeezed his friend harder.

After what felt like years but couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes they all pulled away from one another. Hermione wiped the tears from his cheeks and gripped his upper arm.

“Thank you for telling us. For trusting us enough to tell us.” She smiled and then with an almost knowing look in her eye followed up with, “Was that all Harry?”

He bit his lip and looked away from her intense brown eyes. Looking over to the Great Lake, at the calm water that had the sun reflecting on it.

“Well I’m sort of seeing someone, and I really, really like him. And I want to live with him after Hogwarts. And whether that means the four of us get a flat or him and I get a flat next to you two I don’t care, but it’s serious between us.”

Ron glanced at him surprised. “Wait you’ve been seeing someone and we had no idea?”

He nodded to confirm, “we wanted to keep it a secret at first, he’s not told anyone, I’ve not told anyone until you both now. It was just so new and scary that I didn’t want it to blow up in our faces y’know.”

“It’s alright Harry, we understand. So who is he?” Hermione asked gently.

“Malfoy?” Ron said before Harry could answer, and Harry turned to look at his friend but saw that Ron wasn’t looking at him, but instead looking towards the blond who was approaching the trio. “What do you want?” He asked once Draco was within hearing distance.

Draco glanced at Harry who’s eyes widened a little before he spoke. “Well about that-“

Hermione let out a gasp. She always was the brightest witch of her age. “Harry-“

“What am I missing?” Ron asked throwing his arms up, realising that he was missing something important at the moment.

“Im dating Draco.”

Harry could hear his heart in his ears, feel the anxiety crawl through his bones. This is what he was most nevous about, not about telling his friends he was gay, but that he was gay for Draco sodding Malfoy. The absolute brilliant bloke that he is.

Ron let out a laugh, and then another laugh, and soon he was almost literally on the floor in tears. He slapped his knee and bent over unable to hold himself up. “That’s a good one Harry!”

His friend kept laughing but Hermione, Harry, and now Draco who had walked up to beside Harry weren’t laughing along. “I’m not joking Ron.”

Ron paused and looked up at his friends to find none of them found the news as humorous as he did. He visibly deflated a little. “Wait you’re not being serious- It’s Malfoy for merlin’s sake! Hermione please back me up on this.”

Hermione did no such thing, she didn’t back him up, she didn’t say a word for a moment. “Ron-“

“No no no no no! Don’t ‘Ron’ me. Harry claims he’s dating the Ferret! And all you can say is ‘Ron’?!” The ginger shouts. A few of the students who are also on the grounds enjoying the sunny day look over to them.

Harry feels someone grab his hand and give it three little squeezes. Draco. Harry squeezes back. I love you. His way of letting Harry know it’ll be okay.

When no-one says anything for a while Ron looks down to Harry and Draco’s connected hands. “You’re being serious aren’t you?”

“Yes Ron. And like I said, I plan to move in with him, so if that means you and I aren’t to live together then that’s what it means. If you really can’t accept this.”

Harry turned away from his friends and walked back towards the castle hand-in-hand with Draco. The blond was rubbing his thumb over Harry’s knuckles trying to comfort him. “He’ll come round to it, he’s your best friends. You’ve literally fought a war alongside him. He’ll come round.”

Harry looked over at Draco and smiled. He stopped walking, about midway between where Hermione and Ron were still standing and the castle doors. He let go of Draco’s hand in favour of grabbing his cheeks with his hands and pulling him in for a soft passionate kiss.

“I know love, I know.” He mumbled against his lips after they broke apart.

August 2000 - London

“Harry it’s your move come on!” Ron snapped in Harry’s face trying to get his attention. They were playing a rather bad game of chess from Harry’s point of view.

He was too busy staring at Draco’s arse bent in front of the fireplace to pay attention to the game. “Hm right sorry. Bishop to B7” He said taking one of Ron’s pawns before looking back towards Draco and his rather fine bottom. “Harry!” Ron groaned again but made his move instead of continuing knowing complaining would be pointless.

It had been over a year since the four had moved in together, and although Ron still wasn’t thrilled about the whole -Draco Malfoy living in his home and sleeping in the room over, sharing a bed with his best mate- thing, he had come a long way.

At that moment Draco stood up from the floo and walked over to where the two were playing their game, he bent down to kiss Harry on the cheek before saying “Mum says hi.”

“Hi back.” Harry answered and made another move which by the way Draco grimaced was a bad one.

“Well Weasley, why don’t we have a game? Since you’re two away from mate and this will be over sooner than Harry can finish a treacle tart.” Ron let out a laugh before he smirked, a glint of challenge growing in his eyes.

“You’re on, shift it mate.” He said the latter part to Harry. Harry willingly complained, and not just because this meant he could sit on the couch behind them with Draco between his legs on the floor, him being able to play with Draco’s hair which had grown rather long now.

Hermione opened the front door of the flat and smiled at the three of them, “well don’t you all look happy. Who’s winning?”

“Malfoy.” Ron grumbled unhappily but then let out a whoop when he took Draco’s queen. “Me!”

Although Harry couldn’t see it, he could feel Draco roll his eyes, the way his forehead tenses when he does it.

Hermione walked into her shared room with Ron to change before coming back out in pyjamas and carrying a book. She sat sideways on the couch adjacent to Harry’s and started reading in no time. Harry waved his wand to put on the wireless which was gently playing a band he didn’t recognise.

In that moment, surrounded but those he loved Harry felt at peace, and knew that he was right. When you know you know. And by the small box that weighed down Harry’s front pocket indicated, Draco was the one.

FIN

#one shot #coming out #drarry #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #post hogwarts #eighth year

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snowstark · 3 years ago

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catch the stars (on my firebolt) 🌟

snowstark’s end of year celebration! ↳ requested by ❤️ anon: “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” [ft. enemies to lovers & a disgusting amount of fluff] READ ON AO3

The window opened with a reluctant creak before cool air weaved its way into the dormitory. Peter exhaled, leaning on the windowsill to poke his head out. He wrapped his cloak around him tighter; it was cold tonight and the pyjamas he was wearing underneath it wasn’t exactly keeping him warm. A hoot and the flapping of wings sounded above him. Peter watched as two barn owls made their way out of the Owlery, most likely in search of a late night snack. The grounds were quiet today, with no students wandering around past curfew for once.

“Psst! Parker!”

Or not.

Peter hesitantly leaned out of the window further, bracing his hands on the stone windowsill. He was met with a blast of air as something—or rather, someone—zipped past him with a whoop. His jaw dropped as Tony swivelled around on his broomstick, grinning cockily at Peter, hair mussed from the wind.

Tony Stark—a Slytherin boy who was renowned for his charming smile and sharp wit, one of the best Quidditch players this year, and Peter’s rival in every possible sense—was hovering right before him, in Gryffindor Tower.

“Care to join me?” Tony’s robes were flapping around his body, the Slytherin crest barely visible in the dim moonlight.

Peter recovered from his shock and scowled at the words. “Very funny,” he muttered. It wasn’t a secret that he wasn’t exactly what people would call a natural flier. Tony was probably just here to rub it in his face.

“Oh, c’mon, Parker! Live a little!” Tony wheedled, taking a hand off of his Firebolt to run a hand through the bird’s nest on his head. “You’re a Gryffindor, aren’t you? Where’s that brash recklessness that you lions are known for?”

Peter glared. “We’re not brash, or reckless.”

Tony snorted. “Thompson’s behaviour in Potions yesterday is proof of how wrong that statement is.”

Peter bit his lip at that, trying not to smile at the memory. He was not going to laugh in front of Tony, nevermind at something Tony had said. Although, he kind of had a point…

“Flash is an exception.”

“Uh-huh.” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Just like how you’re an exception from your Gryffindor-ness? The Sorting Hat doesn’t lie, you know; those traits are a part of you and you’re just pretending to be a good boy, aren’t you, good boy?”

“That’s not even a word, you git. And don’t call me that.”

Tony ignored him and drifted closer to the windowsill. “Hop on.”

Peter jerked back. “I—” The image of Tony telling his Housemates that Peter Parker couldn’t even fly on a broomstick that he wasn’t even steering popped into his head. “No thanks.”

“Christ, I know you’re rubbish at flying, Parker. I’m not asking you to catch a Snitch for me, or even throw a Quaffle. Just sit behind me, look pretty, and enjoy a one-time offer. Now, c’mon, I won’t ask again.”

“You hate me,” Peter pointed out. “As far as I know, this is probably a plan to get me on your broom so you can watch me fall a hundred feet to my death.”

“I don’t hate you, specifically.” Tony rolled his eyes. “I hate Gryffindor traits, because you are all severely lacking in the ability to sit down and think and plan ahead.”

Peter somehow felt like he should be affronted by that, but somehow, he wasn’t. It was, after all, somewhat true. With a sigh, he gave a wary glance behind him to check that the others were still fast asleep before pulling himself up to the windowsill. It was wide enough for him to shuffle onto it, and Tony shifted closer, holding out a hand.

The height of Gryffindor tower made Peter’s hands sweat. He gulped, and then, before he could second-guess his decision, hoisted himself onto Tony’s broomstick. He pressed flush against Tony, grabbing his shoulders nervously, and Tony grunted, “I’m not a pony, Parker.” Reluctantly, Peter moved his hands down to wrap around Tony’s middle. Tony grinned. “Atta boy.”

Then, with no other warning, he shot off. Peter yelped, feeling himself blanch as he clung onto Tony desperately, eyes squeezed tightly shut in terror.

Tony let out another whoop as they zipped towards the lake, where he slowed down so they were just barely skimming the surface of the water. “Oh my god,” Peter gasped, breath coming out in frantic, panicky huffs. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

Tony was going to feed him to the Giant Squid, he knew it.

Tony let out a bark of laughter at his words and tossed over his shoulder, “Relax, just enjoy it!”

Easy for him to say.

Peter swallowed hard, and then, mustering up his Gryffindor courage, nodded, even though he knew Tony couldn’t see him.

He had to admit, Tony was a good flier—he was one of the better Chasers in the school. He maneuvered and weaved his way over the trees once they left the edge of the lake, circling back so they didn’t quite enter the forest. After a few quiet minutes passed, Peter finally blurted out, “Is this how it feels to play Quidditch?” unable to hold it back any longer.

“Sure, if the bludgers have broken enough bones to be satisfied.” Tony grinned back at him. “Which, of course, they never are.”

After a few more minutes of flying, their cloaks flapping loudly in the wind, Tony flew them up to the Astronomy tower, the tallest building in Hogwarts. They hovered for a second before Tony helped Peter hop off with a surprisingly gentle hand.

Peter stumbled as his feet hit the ground, swaying unsteadily in how odd it felt to stand on his own two feet after zipping through the air. Tony followed suit, holding his broomstick in one hand, and leant back against the wall of the tower, looking suspiciously pleased with himself.

Peter followed his gaze up to the sky. The black canopy was splattered with silver that shone down at them, pinpricks of cold light. The sky was clear today; there were no clouds that would obscure the view before them, and Peter found himself grateful for that.

When Peter’s eyes dropped back to Tony’s face, he could see every shadow that hid his features, the golden-brown liquid of his eyes, the way his cheeks were flushed a pleasant pink in the cold. Even the tips of his ears were pink. The sight of him brought something out in Peter, something he hadn’t even realized was there in the first place, and whatever it was, it spread across his body from his chest and outwards, growing warmer and warmer.

As if sensing Peter’s stare, Tony tore his gaze down from the sky and sighed. “Glorious, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Peter said softly. The silence between them was as cool as the night itself, and Peter found himself hesitating before he finally asked, “Tony, why did you bring me out here?”

Tony didn’t respond for a few moments, just lifted his eyes back to the sky above them. And then— “To fly around. To see the stars. To see if you were as pretty as them. To see you.”

Peter found his heart beginning to pound in his chest, and his lips parted, surprised and caught off guard. He struggled to reply, but found that he didn’t need to, because Tony moved in one smooth motion to press his lips against Peter’s.

Peter’s hands floundered for a moment as he heard the distinct clatter of the Firebolt hitting the ground, then drifted to rest on Tony’s shoulders. His touch seemed to urge Tony on. Tony wrapped his arms around Peter’s waist, pulling him closer until he was flush against him. Tony only pulled back when Peter was panting for breath, and when he was far enough that Peter could see his expression, he felt that overwhelming warmth burst in his gut again.

Tony was the one blundering now. It was out of character for him, looked odd on him, because Tony was never unsure and always confident—except Peter had taken that away from him, left him vulnerable, left him wanting.

“Was— was that okay?” Tony finally managed, voice hesitant and uncharacteristically timid.

Peter felt his gaze soften at his tone, and felt himself grow tender, as delicate as a petal on a blooming rose. “Yes,” he said. “It was more than okay.”

He saw Tony’s eyes spark with pleasure, and that was when Peter decided that no star would ever be as bright as Tony.

#starker #ironspider #tony x peter #hogwarts au #jae’s end of year event #my fics #ik this was supposed to be more nff and more spicy and less fluffy #but i completely forgot to write it that way #granted it was like 3 am so you’ll have to forgive me #i did not mean for this to turn out this way #regardless i hope you still like it

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taiblogcomics · 2 years ago

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Horrors of the Housing Market

Hey there, hidden applications. And happy Thanksgiving, if you care about that! And to completely go against the holiday, we're starting another Goosebumps comic this week. I hope what you're thankful for is spooky stuff. I know I'm thankful the last story arc is over and we're doing a new one~

Here's the cover for our new arc:

Horrors of the Witch House! I think "Witch's House" sounds better, but either way, it'd make a great title for a Martin Mystery episode. Now there's a show that needs a comic book series. But anyways. This is... okay. It's vaguely creepy, but a few spider webs and a silhouette on the threshold do not a scary house make. Go look at the cover to "Welcome to Dead House" or the film Monster House. Now that's how you spook up an ordinary suburban home. Also, set the cover at night. Setting it during sunset like this just makes everything cheerfully pink, which is much less scary~

Here’s an alternate cover suggestion:

That would have much more horror, I think~

So we open with the thrilling concept of the real estate market. I see we're getting to the horror right away. So this Ms. Curry is buying this place, and by the look of the realtor's appearance on the sign, he hasn't sold this place since the '70s. So of course he warns her that the place therefore has all the local rumours about being haunted and such. She says that's just fine, and thus the transaction is completed. That's a twist, usually it's the kid moving into a new house to start a Goosebumps story, not the antagonist~

You can tell this is a small town, because the rumours of a woman buying the old Whaley House are all over the school the next morning. This gives us an introduction to all our characters: Rosie, the small quiet one who goes past the house on her way to school; her crush Carlos, whose brother served her at the coffee shop, and thus wheedled the extremely clunky exposition of her name (Veruca Curry) and occupation (tech millionaire) out of her; and Becca, the skeptic who doesn't believe in haunted houses or aliens or anything. Methinks she will change her mind by the end of this comic.

After a brief scene of a door-to-door salesman trying to peddle his wares and getting yanked inside the house, we join Rosie's family for dinner. The most persistant rumour about the Whaley House seems to be that someone put a curse on it. Given that it hadn't been sold since the '70s, I bet that's not too hard to believe. Another indication of small-town-ness is the fact that they're hosting a welcome party for Ms. Curry that night at Town Hall, so she can get to know the community. Rosie intends to attend, since she has no friends or other social obligations.

Later that night, at the party, the same rumours are still swirling around. I mean, literally the same rumours, phrased exactly the same way as earlier. Becca stops by, and she takes a seat with Rosie, since they're the same age. Becca remains skeptical, but Rosie notes that something is off about the whole situation. And speaking of sit-uations, an enormous dude sits in front of the two girls, wide enough to block their view of the event just as the mayor starts calling things to order.

The mayor introduces Veruca to the crowd, and very quickly, the standard yokels show up to disparage her. You know the kind: blue cap, overalls with no shirt, a dirty reddish moustache, probably named Cletus. "Ain't no good gonna come of livin' in that house!" The lead yokel tells Veruca to take her money and "git out", and she replies that she doesn't care about the money. She holds up a coin for emphasis, reflecting a weird green light off of it. The same light appears in everyone's eyes and they go silent--except for Rosie and Becca, still unable to see around the wide customer in front of them.

We skip a few hours to later that night. All three of our main characters are fulfilling the stereotypical actions of their archetypes: Rosie is reading in her fandom-laden room, Becca is finishing up a sports activity, Carlos got done buying a new drip from the mall... And all three hear enough noise coming from the Whaley House to attract their attention and have them bump into each other in the woods. Agreeing to peek in on their new neighbour together, the kids do a litte trespassing and voyeurism, discovering Veruca sitting at home while a bunch of saws and hammers renovate the house--magically animated and floating in the air by themselves!

As usual, the setup issue is pretty mild. It introduces our characters and characterises them a bit (Rosie gets the most, Carlos gets the least, being shoehorned into the story in the last couple pages). You get some setup for the upcoming mystery and spooks, and let’s face it: Veruca is not a subtle villain. Even in civilian mode, she’s always smirking and has long clawed fingernails. But it is holding a focus way better than the last story, so we’ll see where it goes~

#comics #reviews #Goosebumps #Goosebumps: Horrors of the Witch House #Taiblog

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ickle-ronniekins · 5 years ago

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tangled up

request: from nonnie! “love those sharing a bed tropes... not saying you should do it but you should definitely do it”

pairing: fred x fem!gryffindor!reader

word count: 2.3k

A/N: ummmmmm love this request, i'm in suuuucch a fred mood lately

warning(s): brief mention of war, ~implied sexual content~ i suppose

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @keoghans @dreamer821 @wtfweasleyy @62442-am @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu @annasofiaearlobe @starlightweasley @alwaysasadaesthetic @thisismysketchbook @izzytheninja @imboredandneedalife @hemmoporro | message me to be added loves!

The cool October air had a bit of a bite to it -- it seemed as though Bill and Fleur’s wedding was ages ago. You wrapped a blanket around your shoulders to reduce the chill in your bones.

Suddenly two redheaded figures appeared with a pop! onto the field outside of your home. By what you could see, they’d apparated just before the line of protective enchantments -- a type of advanced magic only a very intelligent wizard could do.

“Bloody hell -- you’re a life saver, you know that?” George exclaimed as he finally reached you, wrapping you in a warm embrace. “I couldn’t be there for one more moment.”

Fred rolled his eyes and explained, “He means at Auntie Muriel’s. Being a bit overdramatic, are we, George?”

The elder twin shot his younger brother a look of amusement as George dropped his bag onto the floor and ran a hand through his hair. “Overdramatic? Tell me, Fred, would you like to go back?”

Fred then draped an arm across your shoulder and peered at his brother. “And reject our best mate’s offer to spend time at her lovely home? That would be so rude.” George swore he saw his twin shudder a bit, no doubt at the thought of returning to their Auntie Muriel’s to endure more yelling and criticism. George shot him a very sardonic look, and laughed lightly.

“Glad you two decided to come -- it’ll be nice having someone else in the house. I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in months,” you waved your wand to pull three teacups from the kitchen cupboard and started the kettle. You felt a sense of ease at having your two closest friends here. “Should be alright out here, at least for a while.”

Fred glimpsed around your tiny little house. It was small, but exceptionally tidy with a very cozy feeling to it. It looked much different than the Burrow, but still emanated that feeling of home. “Lovely place you’ve got.”

“Thanks, Freddie,” you replied, handing him a steaming cup of tea. He gingerly took it out of your hands. “Just one problem.”

The twins chorused together, “What?”

“I’ve only got one extra bed.”

If the room hadn’t gone so eerily still at your comment, you never would have noticed the small jab to the hip George gave his twin. Fred grunted a bit and stifled a cough. “Oh, no worry -- George already said he’ll take the floor.”

Fred earned himself an eye roll and another jab.

You waved them both off and blew on your tea. “Don’t be silly! I’ll take the floor. You two’ve just got to battle it out for who gets the bigger bed.”

As if on queue, George immediately hoisted his bag back over his shoulder. He began walking away and pointed toward your very tiny spare bedroom off of the kitchen. “This one here, yeah? Thanks again, Y/N, really appreciate you letting us escape the wrath of our aunt -- I’m absolutely knackered, hope you two don’t mind if I turn in!” and with a quick wave to you and Fred, George closed the door and you both almost immediately heard very loud snoring. You and Fred exchanged a laugh.

You made sure everything was in order for Fred before leading him to your room. But you noticed he hadn’t brought his stuff with him -- you saw his belongings near your front door. With a wave of your wand, you brought it forward.

“I’m really okay to sleep on the couch,” he told you, pointing back toward the front.

“I’m not going to have you sleep on the couch,” you replied, shaking your head. “Besides -- you’re not staying out there. I might be a bit dramatic, but the couch is too close to the windows and the front door, and though I’ve been safe here for a while..” you voice trailed off a bit, and you swallowed down the nerves bubbling up inside of you. “Just -- we never know where the Death Eaters are. You take the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

You patted Fred’s shoulder, ready to head back out to your front room, when he took your wrist in his hand and whirled you back around to face him. “If I’m not allowed to take the couch, neither are you.”

You crossed your arms and swallowed. “Fine,” you replied with a grin. “Have got tons of extra pillows and a massive blanket here somewhere -- let me go and fetch it. Go on then, make yourself comfortable.”

“Merlin, you are being thick today,” Fred chuckled, and you noticed traces of the young boy you grew to love. He caressed small circles on the back of your hand. “Would you just sleep in your own bed?”

“But --” your breath caught in your throat. You glanced at your own bed, easily big enough for two, maybe even three, and went against your better judgement before you could overthink it. “Just share with me, then. Nobody takes the floor.”

A hint of nervousness flashed across his features before twisting into a cheeky grin. You continued on when he stayed silent, “What’s the matter, Freddie? You’ve been my best mate for the better half of the last twenty years. I mean, I’ve seen you in your bunny slippers, for Merlin’s sake --” Fred flinched uncomfortably at the memory of you catching him, late one evening in Gryffindor tower, in bunny slippers his mum had knitted for him as a child. You had never let him forget it.

His grin deepened alongside the crimson red colour of his cheeks. “Listen, woman, they are soft and keep me nice and toasty, alright?”

“Whatever you say,” you replied before sliding yourself underneath your warm blanket. You patted the other side of the bed in an accidental sensual way and realized how that must’ve come across. You quickly cleared your throat and turned off the light before you could see his reaction. “Erm -- there are extra pillows on the couch if you need.”

You felt his body slide in next to yours, and you could still make out some of his facial features from the faint light of the lightning strikes outside. He was definitely still grinning. “I’m fine, really.”

You figured out quite quickly that neither of you were able to sleep, especially because it was only eleven p.m. and because of the wild wind and rain that were howling outside of your window. The words were spilling out of you before you could help it. “Fred?”

He turned on his side to face you. “Yeah?”

You were laying on your back, looking up at your ceiling in the darkness. “Are you afraid?”

When he didn’t answer right away, you turned your head to face him too. Each time the lightning struck it was bright and vibrant, and highlighted his features in a more intimate way than ever before. He threaded his brows together and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I am.”

It was weirdly comforting hearing him say that he was afraid. The man who didn’t have a serious bone in his body was actually scared. It was strange and unnerving and brought a sense of solace to you all at once.

You sucked in a breath, worried that your normal evening anxiety would show solely through the look in your eyes. You turned away to glance toward the ceiling again when you felt Fred brush his fingers gently against yours under the covers. Your breath hitched at the contact.

“I think it’ll be okay though.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I suppose I can’t..” it was so weird, hearing him speak like this. He shifted again. “I just think.. we’re more prepared than before. Think there’s more of us this time. Besides, we’ve done our studying, and we’re all brilliant wizards.”

A smile tugged at the edges of your mouth. “You are kind of brilliant.”

“Wow,” he breathed, and it was almost a whisper. You noticed the way the edges of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Care to return the compliment first?”

“Hang on,” he replied, placing his hands behind his head in a bit of a relaxed state. “I need to bask in this for a moment.”

“Oh shove off, you git!”

You playfully swatted him before he retaliated. Soon enough you were both sitting upright, thwacking one another with pillows and laughing into the darkness of the night. Fred fell to the floor with a dull thump, and you stifled lots of giggles and shushed him as he slid back into bed next to you. “You’re going to wake up George!”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you were swatting at one another. It could’ve been hours, or perhaps days. But then the storm grew more fierce, and you found yourself scooting closer to him in bed. Fred always had a way of making you forget about everything going on around you. It was always surprising to you how you’d be able to drown out the rest of the world, as long as you listened to him talk, or as long as you watched him work on his inventions with gentle hands. Even in lessons, back in school, when he’d teasingly wink at you from across the classroom, you were pretty much rendered completely useless for the rest of the day. When it was just you and him, the rest of the world might as well not even exist.

He must’ve noticed how you zoned out, because he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

You turned on your side to face him fully this time. “Just reminiscing.”

“Yeah? About what?”

“Remember when we bumped into one another in the corridors during our fourth year -- I was sneaking sweets up from the kitchens, and you were attempting to sneak into one of the classrooms to finish working on inventions?” You smiled at the memory. “And then Filch was roaming around, and we nearly got caught?”

Fred laughed. You were happy that he remembered. “Never sprinted back to the common room so quickly in my life. That ruddy cat of his was clawing at my ankles.”

“Between the fact that I’d hardly gotten any sleep that night and the adrenaline rush, I was bloody exhausted.”

Fred snorted. “Yeah, you fell asleep in the armchair next to the fire almost immediately when we returned and began to snore rather loudly, if my memory serves me correct.”

You grinned, not skipping a beat. “Yeah, my snoring is almost as embarrassing as those slippers of yours.”

You expected him to groan and throw another pillow in your direction, but instead he just deepened his smile and reached out and placed his hand next to yours on the edge of his pillow, your fingers almost touching. “I dunno -- I thought it was cute.”

You really hoped the steady drumbeat sound of your heart was drowned out by the sounds of the thunder outside. You weren’t so sure though. “Yeah?”

He wet his lips and nodded. “I remember having to wake you up because it was nearly four a.m. -- fire had died out and you looked so uncomfortable in that armchair -- I just wanted to carry you upstairs. Except..” Yeah, jinxes by the professors at each respective staircase. Boys weren’t allowed in the girls dorms, and vice versa. You knew exactly what he was getting at.

You felt a swift surge of confidence overtake you, so you gently moved your fingers a few centimeters before you slowly intertwined them with his. He didn’t flinch. Your voice was softer than you expected. “What else do you remember about that night?”

It was an opening -- you didn’t want to be so blatantly obvious about it, but Fred could always read you like a book. You hoped he still could, after all these years. Luckily for the both of you, nothing had changed. He took the opening. “I remember wanting to kiss you.”

You bit your lip, hoping to suppress the nerves that were bubbling up inside of you like fizzy champagne.

Fred laughed cheekily. “Never got a chance, though.”

Before you could think more on it, you nudged his leg with your toes and scooted closer to him. You could see the steady rise and fall of his chest, you were so close. “Then kiss me now.”

His mouth parted slightly in surprise, but nevertheless he inched forward and caught your lips with his. They were soft -- softer than you ever could have imagined, and so was the kiss itself. He tasted faintly of mint, and and you found yourself breathing in deeper when he trailed one solitary finger across your jawline and down your neck. The feel of him against you warmed up your entire body in a way that the common room fire never could.

He sighed against your lips before reluctantly pulling away. “Mmm we should’ve been doing this the entire time,”

You laughed softly and brought your fingers to your lips, hoping to still feel that electricity. “Yeah, we probably should have.”

All thoughts of the war seemed to subside as he leant in to kiss you again. Somehow, being with him, your limbs entangled together -- it was enough to make you forget about the war on the horizon, everything that was about to happen. As far as you were concerned, as long as Fred was beside you, tangled in the covers of your bed, everything would be alright.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. His voice was rough and sensual and soft all at the same time as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Thanks for inviting me to sleep in your bed.”

You grinned and raked your bottom lip through your teeth. “Yeah, well, like you said -- we should’ve been doing this the entire time. Figured I’d get a jump start on what we’ve missed.”

He laughed and wrapped his arms tightly around your hips. Goosebumps sprouted on your skin as he lazily trailed his fingers up and down your spine and told you, “Knew you were my favorite for a reason.”

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley x reader #fred wealsey x you #fred weasley drabble #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction

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booksforevermore13 · 4 years ago

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The Mystery Girl

This is my too late entry to the Hinny Ficfest. I just got to know about it a few days ago, and I just loved the concept of something solely being for Hinny fanfiction. I haven't been writing very long, but I just had to participate.

Thank you to @clarensjoy for organizing this!

Also written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.

Huge thanks to my QLFC teammates for beta-ing this!

Prompt 68: "Are you just `going to stand there and gawk?" / "Yes." / "Well stop it. You look stupid." Prompt 23: "I'm not afraid of your sister, you're afraid of your sister." Prompt 29: "Do you even know what a whisper is?"

Summary: "I swear, if you're Draco Malfoy or another one of his cronies, I'll hex you where it'll hurt. Badly."

"I'm not," Harry replied hurriedly, though he suspected even Malfoy would answer no to that.

Missing moment in HBP between Harry and Ginny.

Read it on Fanfiction if you prefer.

...

"She's crazy," Harry heard Ron moan, "and just when you think you've reached the bottom of her craziness, there's a crazy underground garage," and winced as the latter banged his head on the table.

That morning, when the sky was barely blue with a chorus of greys, Harry had heard Ron scream bloody murder and shot up off the bed, only to see him behind a huge oval mirror — courtesy of Neville's grandmother — and went back under the covers. He'd figured that if Ron was potentially being threatened by a crazed homicidal maniac, he wouldn't have been screaming about it while standing behind a century old mirror. So he'd gone back to bed and been woken up an hour and a half later by a snickering Fred and George on a visit to Hogwarts, who'd informed him of a very distraught Ron in the Great Hall.

Of course, he'd rushed out, slipping on a shirt backwards, and scrambling towards the Great Hall, heedless of the beautiful day outside and how perfect the wind was for a game of Quidditch, closely followed by the twins, who snickered all the way there. It was only when he reached it did he fully grasp that the situation couldn't have been too bad if the twins were snickering.

Worst case was, there'd been a prank gone wrong. Ron being on the opposite side of it.

Harry squinted as he walked forward, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to discern the misshapen blob on top of Ron's head. For a second there, it did look like a spell gone wrong and Harry felt a twinge of panic as he walked faster. It was red from what he could see, and he came to a stop as he realised that it looked frighteningly like a poorly knit hat.

"Why," Harry said, still squinting, "are you wearing that?"

Ron didn't answer, instead wailing as he buried his head in his hands. Harry shared a look with a still snickering Fred and George who'd taken a seat on either side of Ron while Harry took the seat opposite.

"Beautiful hat eh, Ronniekins?" Fred said, in a vaguely condescending tone. "Though, if I might say, a poor choice for impressing darling Lav-Lav."

Ron didn't answer and let out yet another sound of anguish which sounded more like a distraught sob than a yell.

"Are you…. okay Ron?" Harry asked a second later, out of necessity more than concern.

"No I'm not okay!" Ron wailed, "I'm not bloody okay! Do I look okay? No! I'm wearing a bloody woolen hat in the middle of May!"

"We've noticed," Harry said, as he took small sips from his mug. "Why though, are you wearing a woolen hat?"

"Oh, let us," Fred said, a sly grin on his face as he bent forward and ripped Ron's hat off.

George howled in laughter as Harry choked and spluttered out his pumpkin juice, coughing violently as Ron lunged forward at Fred, who dangled the hat at arm's reach.

"You've got pink hair," Harry laughed at the same time Ron yelled at Fred to give back his hat or go and do something he dared not mention in front of Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, Ronnikins," Fred laughed.

"you look so awfully good —" George quipped.

"— have we mentioned?"

"Suits your brows," which were also pink.

"— and your eyes —"

"— not to mention the lips." George puckered his lips slightly, making a popping sound that only managed to anger Ron even more as he looked fit to murder.

"Mind your own bloody business," he yelled at anyone who looked twice at him, or more specifically, at his head.

"It's pink!" Harry giggled again, covering his mouth as Ron shot him a glare, before dissolving in hysterics again.

"It's lavender, I'll have you know," he grumbled.

Harry laughed harder, before finding it in himself to sober down. Fred and George, though, paid no heed as they continued laughing hysterically, Fred even going to lengths to ruffle Ron's lavender hair, met by a glare and a well-placed curse word.

"What were you trying to do?" Harry said, glancing at Fred as he bit back a smile. "Match with Lavender?"

"Sure, yeah Ron," Fred added, "it'd be even more fun to stick your tongue down her throat with that head full of hair of yours. Imagine her hands tangled in your lavender hair, her lips —"

Ron punched Fred in his side, cutting him off as he doubled over laughing, while Harry drew his legs in as Ron's flung over to kick his.

"Ginny did this, not me," he defended. "And I'm going to have it out with her, I tell you. I'll dye her hair purple, or green, or-or black —"

"Wait, Ginny did this?" Harry gaped. "Wow, I mean, bad wow, very disappointed wow," he said quickly as Ron shot him a look.

"You underestimate her," Ron grumbled, "she's the devil's spawn, that one, even worse than these two gits here." He pointed at a smirking Gred and Forge.

Harry smiled to himself, his cheeks reddening rapidly as he spotted George looking at him with a suggestive grin. Fred joined in, wiggling his eyebrows, and Harry ducked down in embarrassment.

"Won-won!" he winced as heard a shriek cut through the silence, "ohh, my precious Wonnie-boo!" He cringed as he heard Lavender making kissing noises as she ran over to where they were sitting.

"Murder me, Harry," Ron muttered.

"Yeah, no," Harry replied, "you're doing a pretty good job yourself," he shook his head as he picked up a piece of toast, quickly leaving as Lavender threw herself over Ron.

…

He was screwed.

His assurance of his screwed-ness became even stronger as he heard Filch hurrying down the corridor and calling out for Mrs. Norris. The dastardly cat was going to die a horrible death, Harry was sure of it, and he cringed as he heard another pair of footsteps right outside the broom cupboard.

The small space was cramped, just high enough for Harry to rise up to his full height, and it was dark. Pitch dark, and if this was the metaphorical colour black — as Luna so wisely commented time and again — he didn't like it very much.

Harry held his breath as hurried footsteps stopped in front of the cupboard and turned around to hide his face as the door opened, eyes blinded by the light outside. He heard the door close again.

And then the blackness resumed.

That was until he felt a hand push him backwards roughly and he shrieked, his hands going up in mock defence.

"Who the hell are you?" the person demanded, and Harry discerned it to be distinctly feminine, and familiar. Very familiar, he thought.

He stayed silent though, wary of giving his identity away to a girl in a broom cupboard. Perhaps, he thought, she'd get the memo and leave, though he couldn't for his life guess why she had been hiding there in the first place.

The girl stayed silent for a second, probably waiting for a response before she said fiercely. "I swear, if you're Draco Malfoy or another one of his cronies, I'll hex you where it'll hurt. Badly."

"I'm not," Harry replied hurriedly, though he suspected even Malfoy would answer no to that. But the girl seemed satisfied as she humphed and turned around. There was a soft mellow in the mystery girl's voice and he knew he'd heard it before, he just couldn't place where.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, before cursing under his breath. Normal conversation generally required a 'who are you?' and mutual knowledge of their identities, but clearly, that wasn't the case here, and anyway, Harry had a slight feeling that the girl wouldn't disclose her identity even if he asked.

He waited. And then sighed as the girl remained silent.

"You're talking too loud," she said finally. "Obviously, you're hiding in here from something, or someone," she snorted there and Harry smiled, "so if you don't talk softly, then you're going to get us caught."

"Filch's cat," Harry said.

"What?"

"I'm hiding from Filch's cat."

"Oh," the girl gave a humorless chuckle, "bloody thing's going to have a miserable death. I'm sure of it."

"So I take it you're hiding from her, too?"

"Filch actually," the girl said, "and I suppose that includes the cat too."

"What did you do?"

"Set off fifteen dung bombs in his office," and Harry could swear she had a tinge of pride in her voice, and for a moment, marveled at the nerve of this girl who'd threatened to hex his parts off the first minute they'd met, now claiming to have thrashed Filch's den. There were very few in the school who had the guts to do that, and Harry felt himself flushing as he wondered whether the girl in front of him was Ginny.

Before he could say anything more though, she stepped forward and pried open the door, peeking out to look for what Harry knew now was Mrs. Norris and her owner.

He caught a glimpse of her red hair as the door opened, and his suspicions about her identity grew and almost the very next second, the girl shut the door close, and he could make out her leaning on it.

"Bloody hell," she cursed, and Harry for the second time was flooded with how familiar that sounded, and how he had heard Ginny curse like that before as he felt her push him against the back wall of the cupboard and shuffle in behind him, so that now they were just barely touching, yet not, her body shielding his. Harry felt himself smiling at how the girl, who he had now deemed about a foot shorter than him, was trying to shield him from whatever came knocking on the door. The feeling felt almost foreign for him, for nobody before the Weasleys and Hermione had ever so readily provided a shield so unanimous and here was a girl, who could very well turn out to not be Ginny, shielding him from a petty predator.

However trivial that sounded, Harry felt a warmth blossoming in his chest.

"Just remember, if we get caught, you're deaf and I don't speak English."

"Huh?"

"I think Filch's coming our way," she explained.

"What?"

"Do you even know what a whisper is?" the girl hissed, and Harry's instincts went into overdrive as he clamped his hand on what he could hope was her mouth, pushing her backwards as he shielded her petite body with his, so that he was now between her and the door.

He waited for the footsteps to pass, completely aware of how close the two of them were, and he waited with baited breath as he heard Filch's grumbles get softer. The moment the sounds became distant, Harry yelped and snatched his hand away. She'd bit him!

"Lumos Maxima," the girl whispered and her wand lit up. Harry blinked as he saw her features come into view and her bright brown eyes glare fiercely up at him before they softened.

"Harry?"

"Ginny?" Harry said, more like a fact than a question, because he'd already known who it was all the way. He just couldn't believe he hadn't recognized her the second she'd entered the cupboard. It was hard not to.

Ginny laughed, and Harry turned red, satisfaction brimming in his chest as he took in her illuminated face. Her chuckles died down as she looked up at him.

"Are you just going to stand there and gawk?" Ginny asked, a smile playing on her lips, and Harry had an unexplainable urge to just bend down and kiss her. They were just a few inches apart, probably the closest they had been since forever, and it would take him to bend just a few inches to capture her lips with his.

"Yes," Harry found himself answering truthfully.

"Well stop, you look stupid."

And Harry laughed, and Ginny joined him, and Harry found himself just looking at her and thinking how beautiful she was. And not just beautiful, she was… radiant.

His hand was still pressed beside her head and she slipped out underneath it, the light in her wand dimming as she made her way to open the door.

"Aren't you coming?" she asked as the door swung open. Harry squinted, his eyes adjusting from the dark to the light as he, for a brief second, noticed how her red hair seemed to light up against the sun, making it seem as if it was on fire.

So he followed her out, and they smiled as they met each other's eyes.

Ginny noticed him before he did.

"Shit," Ginny cursed. "We're screwed."

Filch glared at them as Mrs. Norris purred, and Harry couldn't help but agree.

…

"Oh there was a time when they used to hang students by their thumbs in the dungeons," Filch said darkly. "Those were the days."

"I suppose you were hanged like that a lot," Ginny said sweetly, and Harry nudged her, sending her a warning look.

"What did you say?"

"They probably used your toes. Seeing your thumbs weren't large enough."

"Two months scrubbing the toilets with a toothbrush," Filch screamed shrilly, and Harry pushed Ginny backwards as the man advanced on her, Mrs. Norris following him.

He stopped as he saw Harry's menacing glare. "You, boy," he said, glaring at Harry, "you're going to spend a month in the dungeons. Scrubbing the floors till they shine."

"That's not fair," Ginny bellowed, and Harry pulled her away before Filch could open his mouth. He suspected if they stayed there for a second longer, there'd be murder committed. Or at least a heinous crime.

"Two months in the toilets," she muttered darkly as they walked down the corridors, "that lying, cheating piece of scum," she growled. "And his cat—oh, I hope that cat rots in hell."

Harry laughed, and then stopped as Ginny shot him a look, both of them lapsing into silence.

"Seeing your thumbs weren't large enough," Harry chuckled, seconds later. "You don't take things seriously sometimes, you know?"

"Never take life seriously," Ginny said, and Harry looked at her, glimpsing a side of her he hadn't seen before. "No one ever comes out alive anyway."

And though those words were too crude to be true, Harry agreed with them wholeheartedly.

…

"Wait," he said as they neared the Gryffindor common room, before laughing, "you dyed Ron's hair pink."

"Lavender, actually," Ginny replied, "thought it'd match his girlfriend."

Harry chuckled, shaking his head as Ginny grinned an impish grin. "You're scary, you know." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Amazing, but scary."

Ginny laughed as she leaned against Harry's shoulder. "That's one of the best compliments I've ever received."

"One of the best?" Harry asked. "What's the best?"

"Oh. I don't know," Ginny shrugged, "probably on the lines of crazy ass she-demon who hides under children's beds."

"Really?" Harry laughed, "who said that?"

"Ron. I think Charlie agreed too."

Harry laughed and flushed as his hand brushed against hers. Instinct took over as he interlocked his fingers with hers and Ginny looked up in surprise, before relaxing into his hold, smiling happily. She was beautiful, Harry couldn't help but notice again as she swung their hands to and fro like two children.

But, he supposed, it probably wouldn't hurt being a child once in a while.

He'd never been one before — he'd at least never felt like one, even with Ron and Hermione. Like the entire world, they expected things from him, however few they might be. Ginny never expected; she'd always been the one to give without expecting anything in return. Never once, looking at him in pity or with a look that showed she understood everything he was going through.

She didn't, and she knew that and she made sure everyone around her knew it too. She tried to understand though, but if she wasn't able to, she didn't try further. Never pressed for more. Ginny, Harry had seen, was as open as he was withdrawn. What he saw was the truth — at least to him — and she was fiercely proud of that,almost daring anyone to oppose, but nobody ever did. He liked that.

Harry looked at her once again, smiling as he saw her glance at him through the corner of her eye.

"Oi, Harry!" He heard Ron's voice break through his reverie and felt a surge of disappointment as Ginny spotted her brother and let go of his hand. Ron was wearing that hideous woolen hat again, and Harry and Ginny exchanged glances, looking away to hide their grins.

"Heard you got into detention with Filch," Ron wheezed, "and you too." He pointed at Ginny.

Both of them nodded and Ron looked at them suspiciously before asking, "Were you two together all afternoon?"

"Yeah, well —" Harry looked at Ginny.

"We kind of fell in trouble together."

Harry smiled.

"Can't imagine why," Ron replied snarkily. "And you," he said, looking at Ginny, "don't think I haven't let you off the hook for this." He pointed at his hat, slightly grimacing.

"Didn't know I was on a hook," Ginny said cheekily. "I think you've lost your bait."

"Just taking pity on the number of toilets you have to scrub."

"I'll ask you for help if necessary."

Ron shook his head, exasperated. "He didn't do anything, right? Filch?" he asked, moments later.

"Relax, Ron," Ginny smiled, "I can take him any day."

They watched her walk away, a spring in her step, Harry with a smile on his face before Ron turned to him.

"I'm not going to see you with green hair tomorrow, am I?"

"I'm not afraid of your sister, Ron. You're afraid of your sister," Harry said and he grinned.

I think I'm in love with her.

...

#hinny ficfest #harry/ginny #missing moment in hbp #fluff #romance #humour #harry potter #ginny weasley #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #gred and forge #written for the quidditch league fanfiction competition #hinny fanfiction #hinny prompt #the mystery girl

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weasleydream · 4 years ago

Text

siblings are the angels who lift you up when your wings forget to fly

Another idea i’ve struggled to write, but i really love it! do you think i should make it a series? we would see different moments of the triplets life, it’s something i would love to write!

As usual, feel free to like, comment, reblog and enjoy!

Masterlist

(photo not mine)

“There’s no way you’re coming with us Y/N, that’s all.”

For absolutely everyone, my triplets, Fred and George, were funny guys never afraid of anything. But Merlin, when it came to me…

The atmosphere at the 12, Grimmauld Place had been really tense since the beginning of the day, when some members of the Order and our family had gathered to talk about the most important mission of all: bringing Harry safe and sound to the Burrow. The first plan had been simple and only involved Mad-Eye, but since the Ministry of Magic had been infiltrated by Death Eaters, we had to think of something else. That’s how Mundungus had come up with the idea of using Polyjuice Potion, which could work only if six people volunteered to enter Harry's skin. We had been seven to agree taking the risk, and when Mad-Eye had grumbled one of us would stay with Mum and Ginny at the Burrow (which Ginny didn’t like at all even though she hadn’t her word to say), Fred had claimed I would.

Now, he, George and I were arguing because I didn’t want to stay on the sidelines.

“You know you don’t have to decide for me, right?”

“We just want you safe and sound, Y/N.” intervened George. “We know you can do this, but we would be worried and -”

“And you think I won’t be?” I interrupted him. Fred and George exchanged a look I couldn’t read, which annoyed me a bit more. They had always been like this, with this deep connexion I didn’t share with anyone. Don’t get me wrong; I was extremely close to them and we understood each other perfectly, but there was something unique between these two. “Practically all our family will be in danger, and you two will be out there without me and- and if anything happens, I don’t know what-”

“That’s exactly why you’re going to stay at home.” Fred put his hand on my shoulder. “If you’re not out there, nothing will happen to you and if, by the greatest of misfortunes, we die tragically, you’ll be there to carry our legacy. What do you think?” he added with a wink.

“I think you’re a git. You’re both gits.” I mumbled before storming out.

At this point, I knew arguing was useless: the plan was ready, and all of this was bigger than just my worries. But I just couldn’t picture myself waiting patiently on the couch while they were outside, threatened to be killed at every second, fearing the moment they would come back injured, and dreading the moment someone would tell me they were dead. I would have given anything to be able to go with them, even though risking my life to not fear for my family was selfish.

I was downing the stairs as quietly as possible - even Filch hadn’t ever uttered insults as demeaning as the ones Sirius’ mother loved to throw to us - when shouts came to me. They seemed to come from a little room at the end of the corridor and I recognized Remus’ voice. I slowly approached the door. I didn’t want to eavesdrop, just to know if I could help, but what I heard made me stop.

“You can’t go! I forbid you, you just can’t put yourself in danger!”

“But that’s my job, Remus!” It was Tonks, and her voice was high-pitched. I was sure her hair was currently bright red. “And the plan is ready, we can’t change it.”

“We can ask Y/N to take your place and-”

“And let her put herself in danger like this?” interrupted Tonks. “She’s too young!”

I groaned and decided to make my big entrance.

“What’s happening?” I asked with my most innocent voice while opening the door.

I met Remus’ eyes and mentally scolded myself. I used to reserve that voice for the professors when Fred, George and I were caught after a prank and I had forgotten for a second that Remus had heard it more than once. Now, he knew for sure I had heard everything.

“Nothing!” replied quickly Tonks. “Nothing! Tell me Y/N, can you go and ask Molly if-”

“She’s pregnant.”

A long silence followed, during which Tonks was glaring at Remus who was looking at me with a determined look. And me, between the two, looking at them in turn with my mouth wide open, I was understanding why she couldn’t possibly participate in the mission.

“Y/N, I’m begging you, you have to exchange places with her!” said Remus.

“Of course.” I immediately agreed. “I’ll do it, yes, you can’t put your life and your baby’s in danger.” Another silence and I exclaimed. “I’ve almost forgotten! Congratulations!”

But the couple didn’t seem in the mood of rejoicing and they were still tense.

“Do you think Molly will agree?” finally asked Tonks.

“She won’t really have the choice.” I shrugged.

“And Fred and George?”

“Don’t worry, they’ll understand.”

_ _ _

“Are you crazy? We told you no!”

How could I think they would be okay with that?

I had joined Mum, Dad, Ginny, Fred and George in the kitchen. They were talking about how Aunt Muriel would be happy to see two members of the Order bursting in her place when I had innocently dropped the news. Ginny was glaring at me, Mum and Dad sharing worried glances, George rolling his eyes and Fred infuriated.

“You do remember you have no right to forbid me anything, right?” I asked sarcastically.

“She’s right, boys.” intervened Dad, which caused him to deal with some murderous looks. “She’s as adult as you both are.”

“Yes, I’m even older than you, George. Respect your elders.”

“Shut up, there’s only twenty minutes of difference between us!” replicated George.

“That’s twenty minutes of constructive experiences more than you have.”

“Stop this!” interrupted Mum. “Stop now, or else I swear none of you will go out there. Y/N, whose place will you take?”

“And why?” added Fred.

“Tonks is pregnant.”

Mum seemed torn between her concern for us and the happiness brought by the news of a baby’s arrival.

“I understand…” muttered Dad. “That means you will protect someone else. Are you sure you will be okay? Maybe you can trade place with Fleur, I’m sure she will-”

“No, it’s okay! Bill wants to stay with her, I can’t separate them.”

Plus, I had understood during the meeting that Tonks would have been paired with Ron, and I was relieved to be able to stay with him. I knew my little brother had a true gift when it came to finding the problems, even more than Fred, George and I. And even though I loved all my siblings unconditionally, I had always had a soft spot for Ron. I was feeling like I had to be the one staying with him for this mission.

“What’s happening here? I bet all London can feel the tension.”

Ron had opened the door but was staying on the doorstep, eyeing us all suspiciously.

“Yes Y/N, what’s happening here?” asked Fred in a cranky way that was getting on my nerves.

“Hope you still know how to fly on a broom, I won’t wait for you.” I winked and Ron smiled before frowning when George groaned.

_ _ _

“Come on guys, you’re not going to ignore me forever!” I whined as Fred left the kitchen unceremoniously.

Mum shot a glance at me and turned her attention back to the pie she was baking. We were back at the Burrow and the house, even though it wasn’t particularly emptier than usual, was more silent. Something like a heavy tension seemed to be stifling all the sounds, and it made it even more obvious that my brothers were mad at me. If George was just a bit more withdrawn when he was in the same room as me, it was a whole other story with Fred. It’s not like I didn’t know he would be the worst about it because let’s be honest, I knew he was the most impulsive. But not speaking to me in three days? It was childish and definitely hurtful.

“You know he’s just worried, right?”

George’s voice made me jump and I looked up. His back was resting against the back door. He was just standing there, his hands deep in his pockets and his eyes soft.

“All I know is that he’s being a prat.” I muttered.

Of course I knew he was worried, not only about me but also about the rest of our family. I knew this little voice he had probably in his head, the one that said There’s no way everyone is going to come back alive.

“And you’re being a prat too, Georgie.”

“Shut up.”

“You, shut up.”

George rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Sometimes I wonder why I even tolerate you.” he said while patting my shoulder as he walked past me.

“Because you love me?”

“Obviously.”

“George?”

He stopped and looked back at me, his eyes a bit darker than usual.

“I know,” he sighed heavily and grabbed a chair to sit next to me.

For a minute or two, we watched silently as Mum was walking everywhere in the kitchen, grabbing things and putting them elsewhere, cleaning a corner of the table and placing an apple back on the basket. She eventually left the kitchen to go I didn’t know where, clearly disappointed as we hadn’t said anything else yet.

“I’m as scared as you are, Y/N.” murmured George. “And so is Fred. You know how he is,” he added with a humourless chuckle.

“Of course I know. George, we’ll be six out there, there’s no way-”

“Talking about our bright future without me? I’m hurt.”

Fred grabbed a third chair and pushed his way between George and I, the beginning of a smile on his lips.

“Oh, so you suddenly remembered I’m your sister?”

“Yeah but unfortunately I haven’t forgotten how stubborn and annoying you can be.”

“That’s one of the nicest things you’ve told me these days. Oh wait- that’s the only thing you told me!”

George was watching out bickerings with a smirk.

“Sometimes I wonder who is really the youngest,” he stated.

The effect was immediate. Fred and I shared a glance before defending with an all renewed vigour our oldest-ness, and we kept screaming until George’s chuckles made us stop.

“Here, I was beginning to think I would have to get Mum involved to get you two to talk again!”

“Same for me!”

Mum entered the kitchen again, a small smile on her lips. She made her way toward her, caressing my cheek and ruffling the boys’ hair before sitting in front of us. Any trace of joy had left her face; at this moment, the realization that she had never looked older hit me, hard.

“I know we’ll all be worried to death tomorrow,” she began, and her lower lip trembled, making her stop a second. “I know it, but I also know how you three will be. I just wanted to remind you that no matter how hard it’ll be, you’ll need to focus on getting home safe and sound. Okay?”

“Come on Mum, you know we’re always focused!”

_ _ _

“Y/N, you need to focus!”

Ron’s voice arrived in my ears like a distant echo, but the urgency in his tone made me look away from the spot in the sky where the green light had just disappeared. I didn’t know who it was, but my mind couldn’t stop imagining the worse even though I didn’t even know what exactly the worse would be. Fred, George, Dad, Bill, my heart was aching at the very thought of one of them even slightly hurt.

“Y/N!”

My instinct reacted for me, and my broom swerved violently to dodge the curse. Ron came closer to me and accelerated, making me understand I had to follow him.

“Ron!”

For a split second, I thought that he had been hit and was going to fall off his broom, but it was knowing very little about my little brother. Not only did he dodge and regain his balance, but also stupefied the Death Eater, the spell hitting him right between the eyes. I didn’t have enough time to say anything though, because an intense sensation of heat enveloped me. With horror, I realized my broom was burning, and the responsible was just behind us with four of his friends.

“Ron, leave!”

I barely registered him shaking his head and extending an arm toward me.

“Y/N, take my hand!”

I couldn’t though, because I was falling, fast. The sound of my scream was getting lost in the deafening noise of the wind in my ears. The floor was getting closer and closer, and my thoughts got confused, becoming nothing more than an ocean of regrets, the biggest of them being failing my brothers, my family. I wouldn’t get Ron home, I wouldn’t get to see Fred and George again, and Bill’s wedding, I wouldn’t be able to hug my parents and Ginny, to reconcile with Percy and to hear Charlie’s stories.

The vague thought that I still had a few seconds to live crossed my mind, and then I closed my eyes.

_ _ _

It wasn’t the soreness of my body that woke me up, or the flow of thoughts that was crossing my mind, but Ron’s rambling.

“Bloody hell,” he said, “what’s wrong with this family? No one is able to stay safe, crazy that we’re even still alive. ‘Ron, leave’? Seriously, Y/N? Come on I’m not a coward and certainly not a quitter, I thought you knew me better than that. You’re getting heavy though, I would love it if you-”

“That was mean.” I murmured.

All absorbed by his thoughts, Ron realized two seconds later I had spoken up and almost dropped me.

“Y/N! Glad to hear your voice! You scared me to death earlier, I barely caught you before it was too late but I broke my broom. That’s why,” he stopped before letting go of me and wrapping an arm around my waist as I faltered, “we’re walking to Muriel’s. I think we’re almost there- here, isn’t it this awful tea room she loves?”

“You mean the one George almost set on fire when we were four? You’re right, it’s just here.”

_ _ _

Saying that Muriel wasn’t pleased with us being late would be a massive understatement. The portkey disappeared just before our eyes, meaning that we would have to take another broom, and it obviously wasn’t going to happen without us receiving “the lecture Molly and Arthur should have given to all of you when still in the crib”. If usually it was hard to listen to Muriel rambling about our lack of education, at the moment it was definitely the most infuriating thing I had ever experienced. It was getting more and more on my nerves, and I would have exploded if Ron hadn’t decided he had had enough.

“Listen Aunt Muriel, we’ll finish this great conversation at the wedding okay? We have to go back home. Bye!” he added with a loud voice to cover Muriel’s protests.

We got out and snuck into one of the neighbour’s garden to grab a broom. It was old and not very well maintained - which made Ron groan, how could someone with a Firebolt leave it in the garden all night long? - and eventually flew back home.

I heard Ron mumbling something but the wind didn’t bring his voice to my ears, only vague sounds. I was behind him, tightening his waist as hard as I could as I didn’t trust my arms. They were shaking, as were my legs and pretty much all the rest of my body. I was trying to convince myself that it was because of my fall, but vicious images of Fred or George or anyone in my family being hurt kept creeping in my mind. It was a huge relief that the Burrow appeared in my sight, and as soon as our feet hit the ground, Ron let go of the broom to join Harry and Hermione, who were waiting in the garden, and I rushed to the door, oblivious to the voices calling for me.

I had never actually felt my heart stopping beating. Sometimes, it was very close calls, like the day McGonagall had told us Ginny had disappeared in the Chamber of Secrets, but the second I registered the dried blood and the hole…

“George!”

My voice was high pitched, my sight blurry and my legs trembling, and I didn’t even hear what was said after my entrance. In a breath, I had crossed the living-room and I was now hugging George as tight as I could. My arms didn’t stop moving, trying to get a better hold on his body to make sure he wouldn’t leave and get himself in danger more than he had already.

“George… Georgie you- you-”

“I’m okay Y/N, don’t worry. Don’t worry.” he added softly.

I looked up, not even realizing I was crying. Once I was sure George wouldn’t magically disappear in the next seconds, I let go of him to engulf Fred in an equally tight hug. His arms wrapped strongly around me, and after a few seconds I grabbed George’s sleeve and pulled him toward us.

I didn’t know if the living room had become silent or if I just wasn’t paying attention to anything that wasn’t Fred and George's breath. I could have stayed like that for years, making sure they were alive, they were okay and here with me, but they obviously decided otherwise. Fred pushed me gently backwards, and my eyes fell on him after having watched worriedly George’s weak movement to lie back on the couch.

“Where the hell were you? What happened to Ron and you? Y/N, do you even have an idea on how worried we were?”

“I- we were followed and- Ron, he saved my life. I was falling and-”

“Falling?”

Fred’s horrified look only left his face when Ron finally entered the living-room, followed by Harry, Hermione and Bill and Fleur, who had just arrived. I jumped on my feet and rushed to Bill and Ron, hugging them both tightly before being pulled out of the embrace by Mum, and then it became a blur because of all the hugs that succeeded one another.

Such sentimentalism was rare in our family, and it was in time like these that I regretted it the most.

_ _ _

Everyone had gone to bed for a while. Fred and I were sitting on the floor next to the couch, keeping an eye on George who was sleeping soundly. His pain had only seemed to fade away when he had closed his eyes, and he had gotten two hours of sleep so far.

“You should sleep,” I murmured when Fred yawned extensively.

“If you don’t sleep, I don’t sleep either.”

“And I’m the stubborn one?”

Fred chuckled.

“Guess that’s something we share.”

A moment of silence followed, the both of us watching George stirring weakly.

“I couldn’t believe my eyes…” whispered Fred. “When I saw him I just- I didn’t even freak out, it was so much more than that. So much worse.”

“It felt like I just died on the spot.” I added on the same tone, my voice so low George probably wouldn’t have heard it if he had been awake. “I’ve never felt that before and I- I would give everything to never feel it again.”

“I’ve never seen Dad like that before. It scared me, Y/N. I thought ‘If Dad loses his calm like that- it’s not good, right?’”

Fred wiped a tear from his cheeks and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“And then you weren’t coming back. For a second, I thought the both of you had left me and-”

“It’ll never happen Fred.” I interrupted him, my voice not really steadier than his. “Never. It’s the three of us, there’s no other way. Believe it or not, but you’re quite good to be around.”

“I’m flattered, Y/N.” Here it was, this smirk I liked to see, the one he, George and I used to have almost daily. “I could say the same for you, actually.”

“You know what? I think I’ll sleep. You should too, Freddie.”

“I will. Good night, insufferable little sister.”

“Barely little sister.” I mumbled before closing my eyes, comfortably snuggled against Fred, just next to George, in the warmth of our childhood home.

Safe.

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #george weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george x reader #sibling reader #weasley reader #triplets

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siriusmydeer · 4 years ago

Note

Oh and Hello to you today you fine and brilliantly skilled author who I have came to love and adore, you see I know I’d already recently requested something from you but I had a taste of your absolutely amazingly fine talent and just had to come back for more

Ya see, this person here (hem hem, me) would like to ask if she could request something dealing with Young Remus Lupin Remmy Boi being a sweet older brother during the summer to his adoptive sister who is almost his age and very gay and him letting her hang out with him and the Mauraders because her friends were douchbags and skippy skip to Remus letting her rant about it while they sit in his bed, her head in his lap while she’s curled up in a ball and he’s half-heartedly reading while talking to her about her douche-bag friends before he cuddles his sis to his chest and lets her sleep in his bed that night

Anywho, sorry for annoyin you again but I’ve had a shit day and wanted to relax with one of my fav authors and a cuppa tea

baby i was so excited to write this, my internal message to homophobes lies within this one shot. y/n’s vent gave me very “gia ranting her her friends about being bi and it should be nobodies business”

my little sister

brother!remus lupin x fem!reader, girlfriend!marlene mckinnon x fem!reader

warnings: homophobia, mentions of slurs, mentions of conversion camp, angst? but not rly, fluffy remus, WOLFSTAR💋, swearing, jokingly mentions of murder, big brother energy from remus, um mentions of penises and masterbating😭, lowkey ravenclaw slander (ONLY MALES I PROMISE) and y/n being a baddie

word count: 1.3k

you were.... happy. yes, not in a sarcastic way. you had finally found a girl that didn’t just want to be your friend, or hate crime you. you found a girl that you wanted to kiss, a girl you wanted to love and girl that reciprocated that love. but unfortunately for you, your love choices had consequences and everyone else thought it was there business, commenting on it.

“𝗼𝗶, 𝗹𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗻! 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗵𝗲’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹 𝘆𝗲𝘁?”

“𝗰’𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝗹𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗻, 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘆𝗲𝘁?”

“𝗶 𝗯𝗲𝘁 𝘆/𝗻 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿. 𝗶 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗲’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹.”

“𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗰𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗵 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝗲, 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁? 𝗶 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗶’𝗺 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁.”

so to society, you weren’t normal. the worst part was you weren’t always the one hearing it, the girls in your dorm heard it, your brother heard about it and his best friends also happen to hear about it. that also never happened to stop them from shooting a hex or 20 in someone’s direction but, nonetheless, you “weren’t normal.”

you were sitting in the library studying next to your gorgeous girlfriend, marlene mckinnon. oh did something as innocent as studying get flipped into so much more, both of you working on mcgonagalls transfiguration homework. all fine and well until the 7th year ravenclaws decided to crawl up your butt and die.

“i see you two haven’t been sent away yet.”

“aw well if it isn’t the two girls who think they’re in love.”

“the two fa-“

one of the boys didn’t even get to finish his sentence before your wand was pinned against his neck, and suddenly he was speechless.

“‘m gonna say this as delicately as possible to spare your shit feelings but, before you finish your very derogatory sentence i would love for you to reconsider your words.” you started, “i personally think it’s hilarious that you gits are so bothered by whomst m’intimate with.”

“for being known as the smart house, you 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 are so bloody stupid. i could rip out my own brain and give it to you and it still wouldn’t be enough for you to learn how to mind your damn business.” you said firmly, “your 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗸 has sunken into the air, so me and my girlfriend are going to get going.”

you took your wand away from his neck before the 3 boys scrambled to the other side of the library, in fear. you gathered both you, and marlene’s things before slinging your bags over your shoulder and walking out of the library. before you could turn the corner, her other arm gripped your arm putting you both to a halt.

you turned towards her beet red face, and eyes shining in adoration. “dude, i think that was the hottest thing you have ever done.” she said before pulling you into a lip lock outside of the library. would you have been very nervous in any other situation?absolutely. i mean you were kissing a female, in public, at school, in 1975. but in this moment you couldn’t care less about anything or anyone, just the beautiful girl that you were besotted with kissing you right now.

“good.” you giggled as you pulled away before pulling her arm in the direction of one of the hidden corridors.

the next time you found yourself diminished over your sexuality, you went to people who you genuinely felt safe and comfortable with. you burst through the marauders dorm, forgetting to knock but quickly covering your eyes.

“i really hope none of you are masterbating right now, because i’m sure as not in the mood to see a penis.”

“c’mon mini-moony, you’re literally never in the mood to see a penis.” sirius replied, you uncovered your eyes and saw sirius walk over to remus’ bed and put his head on remus’ shoulder, and a light blush covered both of there faces. james on the other hand was on the floor writing lily, one of the only other people who supported you, another love letter.

“ok so let me start, sirius and remus please splash some cold water on your face. james, get off your arse and actually be a normal person and try and have a normal conversation with lily because i assure you she doesn’t even read those letters. and the grand finale, if i get called 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 one more damn time necks will be broken and body parts and fluids will scatter on the floor.” you huffed, and sat at end of remus’ bed nonchalantly.

at the part of your mini-monologue where you mentioned being called a slur, james and sirius happened to jump from where they were, surrounding you with questions. “who called you that?!” “i need names, now, mini-moony.” meanwhile remus aggressively grabbed his wand and made a bee-line to the door. “OI! BROTHER OF MINE.” remus stopped at the sound of your voice and turned around, his grip on the wand leaving his knuckles a shade of white. “sit. now.” he scoffed before sitting on the bed staring straight at you.

you debated for a moment, before looking at remus. “lucius malfoy and his toerag puppy dog, evan rosier.” you shrugged before all of them made a run at the door, messily grabbing their wands stomping down the stairs leading to the common room.

as fifth year came to an end, summer eventually came to a start. as you were unpacking your trunk and putting your clothes in there rightful spots in your dresser before you heard a knock at the door. “come in!”

remus opened the door, leaning against the frame. “hey, you okay?” he knew it was a stupid question to ask, but ever since you came into his family he felt a sense of protectiveness over you. he would always look at you like a little girl who needed her laces double knotted because she would trip on them, and how she needed to climb on furniture to grab something and especially when his little sister wasn’t his little sister anymore and became and illegal animagus for him.

“having your picture with nice little names on them, i’m brilliant.” you said sarcastically before sitting on your bed and remus following your lead. he leaned his back against the headboard as you threw your head on his lap, curling yourself to make yourself as tiny as possible. “i mean why the hell does anyone care anyways? it’s not like i’m intervening in there lives, i’m not killing anyone? it works the exact same except it’s a girl and not a boy. i just don’t understand why everyone thinks they should have an opinion on something that isn’t there business to start with.” you vented as he rubbed your back, while reading. “i mean, i understand.” you looked at him with a raised brow, “sirius?” he sheepishly looked up from his book and nodded before looking down at his book again and blushing.

“please, i could spot that from a mile away. i mean you aren’t exactly subtle, at the mere touch you both look like you got out of a sauna.” you said, matter of fact like and pointing your finger in the air sassily, “at least lily and james don’t care.” he mumbled trying to make you and him feel better. “everyone shouldn’t care, but then again everyone else in this universe is also a pest.” you sighed, as he continued reading but not before speaking.

“people are stupid.”

“you’re right, people are stupid.”

“but you know what makes us feel better?”

“what?”

“chocolate.”

“wow remus, it’s almost like i had no idea.”

“well i’m always right, so suck it up and take it.” he said shoving a chocolate bar in your face.

“i mean you could always have a sleepover with me where we eat chocolate and laugh at bad movies?” he said before looking down at you.

“remus, first yes, second how the hell does sirius put up with your ‘know-it-all-ness’?” you looked at him smirking, clearly he didn’t like that and he closed his book smacking it against your head.

“𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝘂𝘀!”

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spiltscribbles · 4 years ago

Text

The One With The Soulmate

~Notes: Hiya loves! This is a one shot from my The One With The Marauders series and I’m just moving it here to Tumblr<3

Send ME A Friends Episode/Storyline | A Reblog Means The World!!

“You are seriously insatiable tonight,” Remus rebukes, swatting Sirius’s hand away from where he was eagerly grabbing at his arse for another round of fun, positively delicious, bloody remarkable, mind-blowing fun. God Sirius thanks every deity above that he fell in love with such a secretive, little wildcat.

“Oi, wasn’t the whole purpose of this getting married shtick so we could do that whenever we please?” Sirius harrumphs, flopping back on their bed, starfished out as he watches his ridiculously beautiful husband dropping his towel to the floor and digging through their shared drawer for a new pair of pants. He really tries his damndest to not focus on how the dying evening light filters through their room’s open window, bathing Remus in this resplendent, almost heavenly glow, turning the tips of his eyelashes as golden as his hair and caressing the dips and valleys of his lithe muscles, accentuating the smattering of freckles on his thighs and the dimples he’s got on the small of his back. God Sirius can’t take his eyes off of him for even a moment. “Because if not I reckon I can sue for false advertising.”

Remus only sniffs at him, affecting a lofty air as he pulls on the green, turtle net sweater that Sirius especially likes on him for how it brings out the amber flecks in Remus’s emerald eyes and how it hugs his physique in the exact right breath to show off how bloody good looking he is. “We did that right when you came home from the firm, and then again in the shower less than five minutes ago. Don’t tell me it was that forgettable?” He asks with a pointed hiking of the brow.

“Never my lovely little croissant,” Sirius contends hurriedly, popping up from his lounging position to snatch for Remus’s boney wrists, and dragging the shorter man down to sit in his still very naked lap. “You are the best shag and handsomest fellow and—“ Remus claps his hand over Sirius’s mouth, probably trying to come off stern, but Sirius could totally catch the way the corner of his lips begin to flinch upwards— he’s endeared and Sirius knows it.

“Enough of that bollocks, else I’ll get a cavity.”

“But my beautiful crumpet, I want to sing your praises,” Sirius pouts mockingly, kisses the tip of his nose, while one of his well built arms slings around Remus’s slender waste, with his free hand slowly crawling up his inner thigh, thwarted nearly immediately by Remus standing up in a huff.

“Like a bloody mutt.” He scolds.

“Only for you my delightfully delectable cabbage,” Sirius leers, finally standing up and taking the proffered slacks so to get ready for this little soiree Lily’s law firm is holding for their fiftieth anniversary.

“When do you reckon these awful nicknames will drop off?”

“You’re the one who said you like it when I speak French at you,” Sirius goads, smacking Remus’s pert arse as he struts into their master-bath.

“Oi, when it’s spoken in the ruddy language, and not some awful accent you’ve conjured up.” Remus counters moodily before he grabs for one of the colognes on their vanity, and Sirius only smiles privately to himself, so beyond besotted with him that it’s getting detrimental for his health, exhibit A being how he very nearly squirts his aftershave right into his eyes.

But God Remus is so worth it.

The ballroom of the swanky, Mayfair hotel is dressed up in all the opulence that should be expected for a soiree made up of the throng of stuffy, stuck up solicitors that are present. Sirius is not impressed in the slightest, even if he can work the room for one of these parties as effortlessly as breathing thanks to his upbringing as the son of a Lorde and Countess; though he still hates the ambiance of it all, so much so that it makes his skin crawl to this day, but he promised to be here and at least Remus is right besides him, with Sirius’s hand in his back pocket and hazel eyes flickering to him every few minutes or so, as if attuned to Sirius and all his mercurial moods.

God he loves him.

“Alice and I have been shagging non stop,” Frank says, which works well enough to bring Sirius’s attention away from wanting to drag Remus behind the champaign fountain so to have his wicked way with him, and back to the conversation they’re all having; even if that means that instead of looking passive, Sirius is sneering over at Frank.

“Dacorum man.”

Frank apologizes, beyond glum. “We just don’t know what to do. The doctors say that we shouldn’t have this much difficulty with it, but we just checked before coming and still, nothing.”

“I’m sorry mate, that’s awful.” Remus tells him, and Dorcas nods along, but Sirius just rolls his eyes.

“We’re not even thirty yet for fuck’s sake,” he tells him. “Maybe ’s a sign for you both to stop trying to ruin your lives with a baby.”

“Shut it Sirius,” Dorcas hisses, kicking at his ankle hard enough to make him wince.

“Ouch, hey! I’m just saying, a kid’s a lot of responsibility, and commitment.”

“I’ve been with Alice since we were seventeen Black,” Frank tells him hotly . “I think I’m already properly committed.”

“Then what’s the point of the kid!”

Frank raises his brows, floundering with no words as if he just could not comprehend Sirius and all his Sirius-ness, which is fair, the only two people who’s been able to do as much turned out being his brother, (James), and his lover, (Remus)… Speaking of which…

“I’m sorry he’s acting like such an arse Frank, he doesn’t mean it.” the sandy blonde says cooly, giving Sirius one of his looks that he usually keeps designated for his more rowdy students. “Do you.”

Sirius glares at him before looking back at Frank and nodding stiffly. “Sorry mate, you and Flores would be marvelous parents, I’m just being prickish.”

“Nothing knew then,” Frank says, but it’s coupled with an amiable grin so Sirius knows he’s off the hook.

“Right, well why don’t I make it up to you by grabbing you a drink? Yeah?”

“See if they’ve got an iced white?”

“Me too Black,” Dorcas scoffs, doesn’t even bother to look at him to make the command.

“Righto,” Sirius claps Frank’s shoulder with a friendly squeeze, winking at Dorcas and glancing over at Remus before he goes. “Vodka tonic?”

“With lemon please.”

Sirius nods, still pecks him on the lips even if they’re sorta in a fight, as if Sirius could ever stay away for too long.

By the grace of God, the open bar is mostly vacant, except for a familiar head of messy hair he’s considered family for over half his life.

“All right Prongs?”

James pivots around, drinks already in hand and grinning at the sight of him. “Wow, didn’t even recognize you for a tick there Pads, you don’t even have your hand plastered to Moony’s bum!.”

Sirius smirks, tossing him a covert two finger salute as he saddles up besides him and orders the round of drinks. “What can I say Prongsy, the cheeky bugger made me vow to have it there constantly, can’t just jilt my bloke like that, can I?”

James grimaces with a roll of the eyes, and Sirius’s far accustomed to that look of exasperation from him by now. “You’re a mutt.”

“Would you believe you aren’t the first person to say that to me within the last hour?”

“God save our poor Moony.”

“Oh God doesn’t have to worry, I’m taking care of him just fine.”

“Are you being gross about my best friend,” Lily asks as she struts up towards them, looking like an absolute diamond, even if her nose is wrinkled indelicately.

“Aren’t I always in your opinion?” Sirius asks cheekily, trying to balance the four drinks in his grasp before she just rolls her eyes and grabs the flutes of wine for Frank and Dorcas.

“Your impossible prat-ness aside, I actually think you being all grossly territorial over Remus tonight is actually a good thing.”

“THat’s a first,” James says, but Sirius can only glare, suspicious.

“Why’s that? Oi! Don’t tell me that absolute plonker Dearborn is here!”

“Oh God no,” Lily startles, shaking her head as if the thought was too insane to even fathom. “’S just the firm’s just hired this new bloke and I’m really quite positive that he’s Rem’s soulmate.”

“Lily! Don’t say that!” James balks, glancing over at Sirius worriedly, but he in turn only laughs at the magnitude of the statement.

“Jesus, Evans, didn’t think you believed in that ridiculous shite?”

“’S not ridiculous Sirius! And yeah, ‘course I do, like James and I are definitely soulmates.” She twists slightly so to kiss the curve of James’s jaw, making him go a bit blotchy. Poor git’s wrapped around her littlest finger.

“And what? You reckon Remus and I are just here to kill some time?”

“No, don’t be a pillock,” Lily reproves. “’s just he’s his soulmate is all.”

Okay, Sirius’s amusement has officially given way to irritation, and he twists his head so to scowl down at her as they make their way to the others. “Alright Evans, explain yourself then, yeah? Tell me how he’s Moony’s supposed soulmate.

“Well he’s French.”

“I speak French.”

“He’s got amazing, blonde hair.”

“I’ve got amazing, black hair.”

“He majored in literature just like Remus.” Lily says airily, knowing that Sirius can’t match that being an architect himself.

“Well— I read all that snotty shite Remus asks me too.” He huffs, and Lily answers with a shrug to her delicate shoulders.

“Fine then, I’m wrong. You’ve got nothing to worry bout.”

She struts off to their little lump of friends as if to cut the conversation off completely, and Sirius is perfectly find with that. She’s acting off her bloody rocker. But, if Sirius stands closer to Remus than usual for the rest of the night, or if he ends up kissing his temple whenever he feels like someone is watching them, or if he glares at one of the blokes working catering after deigning to offer Remus an empanada— Well that’s Sirius’s business and his alone. He’s not intimidated by this soulmate shite, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like he’s trying to stave off the bastard or something. He does all of that simply because Remus is his husband now, and he loves getting to show that off to all onlookers, even the ones who may or may not be Remus’s soulmate.

“We’ve got dinner with Reggie and his latest girlfriend tonight,” Remus tells Sirius the following Tuesday, tossing the scarf his mother had gifted him last Christmas— with a matching one for Sirius— over his shoulder as they stroll around to the front of the Three Broomsticks for their morning coffees, hands linked and the early winter snow catching in both sets of their lashes.

And God does Sirius love the sound of that, of their schedules overlapping, becoming one almost. Loves the idea that where ever one goes the other follows. Sirius knows that they’ve both have their demons, from Sirius’s neglect and emotional abuse as a child— occasionally sprinkled with a good smack or two if his mother was particularly fuming. To Remus’s complex of never feeling like he can ever be enough, and the way Lyall had acted for years after Remus had come out to his parents as gay, coupled with his multiple hospital visits as a lad until they finally figured out his lupus diagnosis. But they’re better, so much fucking better now. Plenty of the credit going to the remarkable group of friends whom they’ve picked up along the way, but another huge chunk was finding one another, and Sirius knows it in his bones. Knows that there couldn’t be anyone else for him, and sure he knows Remus sometimes deserves more, deserves better— But he’s chosen him, he’s chosen Sirius. He loves Sirius. And it’s remarkable and unbelievable and amazing, and Sirius holds onto the sensation of it with hungry piety.

“Love? Did you hear that?”

Sirius jolts back to the moment, and smiles softly down at him, kissing the corner of Remus’s mouth in penance. “Yes, of course gorgeous. I didn’t forget, I’ll be home early and maybe we can have a lie down before leaving if you’ve finished grading those papers?”

Remus’s laugh right then is like the most splendid instrument Sirius has ever heard, light and magical and warm as a bonfire. “Try to be good and maybe.” He tells him with a cold fingered tapping of his nose before he flounces off to the main counter to order for them.

Sirius doesn’t know how long he stares after him instead of grabbing the gang’s typical seats up front, but is startled when he hear’s a choked out noise coming from behind him and sees Lily, panic faced and eyes wandering frantically.

“Oi, what’s squirming up your arse Evans.” He asks her suspiciously, thick brows furrowed.

“I didn’t know you guys would be here,” she explains so quickly that her words begin to crash into one another. “Oh bloody hell, the one time I have a late start!”

She stomps her foot and Sirius shoots her a fully fledged glower. “What is making you so damn barmy for Christ’s sake.”

Lily parts her lips, but no noise comes out, because right then someone follows her indoors, a very familiar someone if only based off of descriptions. A very tall, very blonde, very smiley looking someone.

Sirius hates him right on sight.

“I’m sorry I took so long at that shop Lily, my mother loves these, how do you say, snow globes?” The stranger says, shaking one for emphasis with Big Ben set in the center.

“Ridiculous tourist trinkets is more like it,” Sirius practically snarls, which earns him a confused look by the blonde and a tired one by Lily.

“Right then, well Sirius this’s Thomas Martin, Thomas this is Sirius Black.”

“Lupin-Black now, ta Lils.”

“Oh,” Thomas says, blue eyes blinking wearily. “Nice to meet you, ah, Sirius.” He extends his hand, and when Sirius shakes it he makes sure to feel the bloke’s bones crushing together, just so he understands who exactly he’s speaking with.

The French arse eventually pulls away, pinning Sirius with a one eyed squint as he curls and stretches his fingers.

“Oh God,” Lily groans, leading them to their spot and depositing herself onto the sofa with absolute exasperation, and Sirius only continues to glare at Thomas as he sits besides her, growing stiffer once Remus returns.

“Oh, hiya Lils,” he smiles, handing Sirius his drink before flickering his gaze to the fucking Frenchman.

“‘lo love, this’s the newest hire at the firm, Thomas. Thomas, this’s my best mate, Remus.” She introduces quickly, the fucking trader.

“Remus?” Thomas asks, dimpling down at Sirius’s fucking husband with bright eyes. And Sirius has to curl his fists so not to punch him right in the sodding face, only growing angrier when Remus chuckles and ducks his head, like he was nervous by him! Like he thought he was in fact very good looking and very charming and his damn soulmate.

“Yeah, blame that on my mum, she was big into the classics.”

Thomas’s grin widens even more and Sirius feels the pulse on his neck beginning to throb. “No, it’s very charming. My Grandfather was very, erm, focussed on those studies as well? Begged my parents to name me Enkidu. They thankfully refused.”

Remus laughs fully now, and Sirius wants to a punch a wall. It took him literal months to make Remus laugh like that— genuine and glimmering and gorgeous. “Lucky bloke. Though I do have to admit that Gilgamesh is a favorite of mine, I think I’ve read the epic twenty times over.”

“Oh mine too,” the fucking Frenchman says, stepping closer to Remus and now in front of Sirius fully, gambling bravely that Sirius wouldn’t try to cap him right here. “If you ask me however, I do believe that he and Enkidu are more than just, friends.” His eyes flicker down to Remus’s lips for a split second and when he looks back up his face is positively leering.

Sirius sees red.

“God, so nice to finally talk to someone who gets it, the professors I work under are usually so painfully heteronormative that it’s crippling.” Remus tells him, smiling kindly.

“Oh, I’m the furthest away from that, I assure you.”

He winks! He fucking winks! Sirius swears to God! He sees the bastard winking at his husband! His fucking husband! What the bloody hell does he think that platinum band on Remus’s finger matching Sirius’s own is suppose to represent! Holy shit!

“I’d love to read anything you have on the subject, most things translated to French are a bit clunky.”

He’s trying to ask him out! Right here! Right in front of Sirius! Sirius is going to strangle his snail swallowing neck! Thankfully, Lily must sense his inner turmoil because she interjects their conversation right then, asking Thomas to grab her a jasmine tea.

“Oh yes of course,” he nods congenially, rounding back on Remus before he leaves. “Would you like a pastry? On me.”

Is he trying to ask Remus to eat it off of him? What the hell! It took nearly a year of them fucking for Sirius to get Remus to bring food in the bedroom, to get to watch Remus lick the chocolate syrup off his cock. And what? Does he think he’s even got a chance so quickly!

“Oh, that’s sweet,” Remus grins and a part of Sirius dies on the inside. “But I’ll come tag along, yeah? I love talking about this stuff and Sirius absolutely hates this ancient rubbish.”

“I do not! I think these dead blokes are very interesting,” he harrumphs, heated, with pouting lips and crossed arms. But Remus only tosses back his head with uninhibited laughter in response, which makes the fucking Frenchman beam that bit brighter.

“After you,” he says with a swish of the hand.

Sirius is going to be tried for murder, and he’s not even sorry about it.

“’s okay love,” Lily reassures him, patting his head dotingly. “We’ll find you someone new.”

“I hate you Evans!”

“Don’t blame the messenger!”

Sirius is about to tell her just how much he does exactly that, but then he catches on the fucking Frenchman putting his hand over Remus’s to prevent him from sliding over his card and all the fight leaves him in an instant.

Sirius ended up not even going to the on sight location for the latest project he’s heading at the firm. He instead spent the bulk of the morning and part of the afternoon grinding his teeth as Remus spoke and barbed and giggled with the fucking Frenchman, like he was enjoying himself. And it was torture, watching the way they naturally clicked and got on— Literal fucking torture.

Sirius is still fuming as they sit in front of his younger brother and his newest bird, a pretty girl named Amal, who’s just graduated from a posh, fashion institute in the north of France. And Christ it’s like he’s being bombarded with the idea of that country all day.

“God that must’ve been such a wonderful experience,” Remus says, smiling as she leans forwards with a grin, speaking louder over the chatter of the busy sushi joint they had all agreed upon.

“Oh yes, the cuisine was simply unmatched, even if I did end up missing London, being home and all. Though I’m afraid my French is seriously dwindling compared to my English and Arabic now.”

“You should ask Reggie to practice with you, I know I love it when Sirius speaks the language.” He winks right then, making Amal crow with laughter and Regulus roll his eyes fondly. But Sirius stays peeved off with his hinged jaw, absolutely seething.

“Bet my hopeless brother recites poetry to you and everything, rose in his mouth and all.”

Remus laughs and Sirius suddenly has the horrid image of the fucking Frenchman doing as much outside the window to their bedroom, and is furious all over again.

“Well Reggie, Remus here does fancy all things French, foods and wines and blokes and just the whole lot.”

“Well good, we have something in common,” Amal snickers, lacing her hand through Regulus’s own over the tabletop. Sirius and Remus haven’t held hands since the waitress brought out their drinks, and remembering as much makes Sirius take a swig of his ail, hating everything.

“Yes well, you can say it’s Remus’s soulmate, France I mean.” He says, words beginning to slur. “He’s meant for French food and wines and blokes, innit true love? You’d prefer a French bloke?”

Amal frowns and Regulus pins him with a one eyed squint, befuddled. But Sirius only gathers his wits about him when Remus clammers noisily out his chair and tugs on his arm to follow suit.

“Reg order us the specials yeah? And a round of spring rolls,” he instructs, words clipped, and a small dent peeking out between his brows, like it does when he’s especially annoyed. “C’mon Sirius we need to talk.”

“But that’d be awfully rude,” Sirius retorts, already hates the flat, fuming tone Remus is speaking with, and feels good and properly nervous for the impending argument.

“They have one another, ’s fine. Now let’s go.”

Sirius concedes and pretends it doesn’t feel like he’s being lead to the gallows.

“All right prick,” Remus huffs, rounding on Sirius right after he locks the door to the single user loo. “What has gotten you in such a bloody awful mood.”

Sirius sniffs, arms crossed against his chest and his head tilted imperiously. “I’m peachy.”

“You’ve been acting like an arse ever since we had coffee with Lily,” Remus counters, reproving.

“Actually love, if you didn’t notice, Lily left about halfway through you and the blonde’s little clucking session.”

Remus furrows his brows now, pillowy lips pinched and looking lost as hell. “You’re angry because Lily left for work?”

“Oh for bloody hell Remus!” Sirius erupts, tossing his arms in the air. “I’m angry because you met your ruddy soulmate and now you’re going to ride off into the sunset with’m and read French poetry together while eating cheese and bread and talking about highbrow shit like Aeneid!”

Remus startles backwards, long lashes flapping and mouth gaped open. “Oh Christ, you’ve gone absolutely barmy. You’re mad.”

“You’re not helping.”

“I feel like I should call someone about my husband going bloody mental.”

“I repeat. Not. Helping.”

“What in hell has convinced you that this random bloke is my soulmate?” Remus asks, back to being patient as ever.

“Lily!” Sirius shouts. “She told me that you and the fucking Frenchman are soulmates! And she’s right okay! She’s bloody spot on.”

Remus rolls back his entire head now, groaning out, “You are such an idiot.”

“Real nice Moons,” Sirius frowns, doesn’t even know how to feel now, the anger seeping out of him the longer he’s standing besides Remus, leaving an awful, clawing abandonment in its wake.

“Did you ever once think to ask me what I think of the damn concept of soulmates? Hmm?” He asks, single brow hiked with pure condescension.

And oh.

Sirius is stuck for a minute there, doesn’t see an out to the question. “Well…. Erm—“

“Well if you had asked, like a normal sodding bloke! I wold’ve told you that I married you because I know your my soulmate you arse! And it isn’t because of some ridiculous notion of stardust or providence or whatever else. It’s because we grew together, and we fight for one another, and even when you’re being a complete prick or we’re arguing like mad you’re the only one I want. Only person I can ever see myself with, the only person I want to try this hard for. The only fucking person I ever want to call my husband! My partner! lover!”

“Oh.” Sirius breathes out, all his fears being strangled by the conviction embedded into Remus’s words.

And it’s like all of Sirius’s insides melt, like all the adoration and love and reverence he holds for Remus is pooling in his stomach and threatening to pour out his every orifice. And God he can’t even inhale, only scrambles to lock his hands around Remus’s cheeks and press his head against Remus’s own.

“Yeah? You really think that.”

“Hell, I thought the wedding and all would’ve made that clear.”

Sirius chuckles, only lightly, his thumb dragging beneath Remus’s eye tenderly. “God I love you, so endlessly. Please forgive me for being an idiot?”

“Yeah, I suppose I’ll keep you around,” Remus teases, bouncing on the balls of his feet to kiss Sirius’s nose and lock his arms around his neck, and the sensation of it— them knotted into one another— could never be replicated in a thousand years, not like this, not like them.

Other Wolfstar One Shots | Send Me A Prompt

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #harry potter series #spilt ink #FIC: Friends AU

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dumblydork · 4 years ago

Text

Summer

Hello! I am SO sorry for having gone MIA all of a sudden on Tumblr and Ao3, but life caught up once exams ended and I was in a deep, dark place for sometime. But not to worry, because I'm definitely better now, and finally got over my writer's block/unmotivation (if that's a word) and what better way to start off writing again if not with a Hinny fic?

As usual, I hope you enjoy this sort of non-magic alternate universe, maybe a modern meet-cute of sorts? From the one and only Ginny Weasley's perspective, of course.

Again, you can find my Ao3 right here where I post quite fluffy Wolfstar one shots!

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The summer was harsh in Cornwall, which was where Ginny's family home was situated. She went up to university in London, just having recently finished her second year in Drama. Last summer, she was on a long trip with her best friend Luna, and hadn't been able to make it down to be with her family. But this year, she fully intended to spend as much time as possible with them, even if her older twin brothers were being annoying arses.

"Fred, George, just wipe the bloody tables already!" She screamed, exasperated, even though the twins were not even 20 feet away. The only unique cafe-by-day/restaurant-by-night was owned by Ginny's family. It was a quaint place, serving the best coffee to tourists and locals alike, along with not such a sharply contrasted cosy restaurant theme the place adopted when the sun went down.

And currently, the cafe was a few hours away from opening as a restaurant, and was left in the care of Ginny and her older twin brothers. She had another older brother after the twins, but he was off with his university friends (being an year older) and had even MORE older brothers ranked above the twins. Her oldest brother Bill, worked as a vet in New York, also where the second brother Charlie worked as an art curator. The third brother Percy was currently obtaining his PhD in some sort of Math which Ginny was too 'humanities' to understand (in Percy's own words, that subject bigot). The brothers after Percy, twins Fred and George were as stated, being annoying prats but worked in some sort of prank shop, much to their mother and Percy's chagrin (Between us and her, Ginny never understood why Percy felt a need to voice this opinion, because if Ginny also opened her mouth to provide an opinion on every single thing under the sun, working in a prank shop was perfectly acceptable).

Finally the last brother Ron went to university in Devon, having recently finished his degree in Astronomy combined with Philosophy, and that was it. Growing up with 6 older brothers, Ginny was significantly hot tempered, a trait often made fun of because of her (and her whole family's) flaming red hair.

"Oh for God's sake the two of you, just shut up if you don't want to do any work!" She finally snapped, causing two identical pairs of brownish eyes to look at her.

"Okay!" They smirked, before actually rushing away to the back of the cafe. Ginny sighed, wondering for the tenth time that afternoon why she bothered to come down here in summer. The twins, despite being her favourite, were useless gits-

"Ginny! Where are Fred and George?" Her mother's voice flew out from the front of the store, removing Ginny from her trail of thoughts, where Molly stood with hands laden with grocery bags. Her father, Arthur, she saw outside from the huge floor to ceiling windows, was unloading the boot of their car of more paper bags.

"They ran away after being absolutely useless gits." She muttered angrily, almost aggressively wiping a glass and placing it on the shelves behind her.

Her mother let out a long suffering sigh, but nevertheless joined Ginny in tidying up the cafe. "They're quite irresponsible." Molly sighed, wiping down tables at a superhuman speed.

"Mum if it's okay, can I join Ron and his friends at the party happening down at the beach?" Ginny asked apprehensively. The question had been burning at the back of her mind since the morning when Ron actually invited her to the beach party being thrown by one of the local boys. He had brought his uni friends and girlfriend down from Devon, and Ginny had already met Hermione, Ron's soulmate, if their behaviour was anything to go by.

Being in an all girls school, Ginny practically grew up with her girlfriends gushing about boys and celebrities, often almost swooning like some Victorian women when boys from the neighbouring school passed by their grounds.

However, Ginny was smart- if having six brothers had taught her anything, it was that boys were annoying, and only a few handful of them were actually decent. But now, looking at how close Ron and Hermione were, Ginny was starting to long for her own sort of romance. It had been over a year since she broke up with her first and only boyfriend Dean. She was convinced the breakup had solidified her stance on relationships, which was that relationships were okay but there was no need to actively look for one. Ron and Hermione's lovey dovey-ness was revolting, but uncharacteristically had Ginny pining away for her love story as well. Not that she'd ever admit it, of course.

"Well there's nothing really to do, and if it's busy there's a lot of pairs of hands to help. So sure, go on." Molly finally said and Ginny could almost fist pump, if it wasn't for the wet rag she was holding.

The evening rolled around quicker than Ginny anticipated, and before she knew it, her and Hermione stood in Ginny's small attic bedroom, getting ready for the party. "So, tell me, how was Dean?" Hermione asked, looking behind at Ginny through the mirror, where the younger girl stood blinking away extra mascara.

"Oh well, he was alright. Nothing like fireworks or sparkle." Ginny flushed slightly as she processed her own words. Oh, how she sounded like a lovestruck 12 year old.

However, Hermione didn't seem to mind. She simply grinned. "I'm sure with the right person it's more than just sparkles and fireworks." Hermione winked, and Ginny wondered if there was more to the statement than she understood. However, Hermione was already done with the topic, now going on about her course and what plans Ginny had for after university.

They walked downstairs, finding Ron standing at the door, his eyes glued to Hermione as she walked down the stairs. To be fair, Hermione definitely looked stunning- even if it was for a casual beach party. Ginny noted slightly bitterly to herself how the simplest pair of jeans and top could make one gorgeous to the right eyes. She breathed deeply as Ron wrapped an arm around his girlfriend, the girlfriend in question smirking back at Ginny as she followed them. Okay, very confusing.

The walk to the beach from the cafe was short, and there was already a bonfire going in the distance, with some upbeat song playing from someone's phone. "So, where is Harry and everyone else?" Hermione asked, looking around. Ron still had a hand in Hermione's as the two of them looked around for who had to be Ron's friends. "Neville!" Ron suddenly yelled good naturedly, as a tall guy walked towards the three of them with a big grin on his face.

"Ron! Hermione!" Neville hugged each of them in turn, smiling broadly at Ginny.

"Neville, this is my younger sister Ginny. Ginny, that's one of our friends from uni, Neville." Ron introduced. Ginny waved, which was returned by Neville.

"Is your girlfriend here as well?" Hermione asked, to which Ron added, "Oh, do we finally get to meet the elusive To-Be-Mrs. Longbottom?"

Perhaps having noticed Ginny's confusion, Neville clarified. "These two here haven't had the chance to meet my girlfriend- well, fiance as of a week, yet. In answer to your question Ron, no, she unfortunately couldn't make it. But she's been inviting the two of you over for dinner since ages." He turned to Ron.

"Actually yeah, we should definitely go. Anybody seen Harry?" Ron asked, looking around the small crowd of people. Ginny moved away from the couple to sit next to the fire, and grab a cold beer in the process.

She had just made herself comfortable slightly away from the warm fire when a figure sat down next to her, causing shivers to go up her left side. "Hi, you must be Ginny." The figure spoke and Ginny looked to the source of the voice, to be met by the unruliest mop of black hair she had ever seen on a human, and twinkling green eyes. In the soft light from the fire, they glowed slightly amber.

"I am. But I don't think I've met you?"

Ginny didn't get an answer because Ron's voice interrupted them. "Harry, you came!" He shouted, the figure (Harry) getting up to tackle Ron in a hug.

"Of course I did, getting sloshed at your best mate's beach party is always infinitely better than home." Harry grinned, and Ginny started to feel her heart race.

"I see you've met Ginny." Ron said, sitting down in between her and Harry.

"I just did, yeah." Harry smiled mischievously. They had moved closer to the fire, and in the brighter light, Harry's face was more distinct. And boy was he fit. The hair, even though messy, was not unattractive (quite the opposite), and his face was slightly round, made rounder by the permanent grin which seemed to reside there. And his eyes were covered by round glasses, reflecting off the orange from the fire.

"Well anyway, Gin, this is Harry, my best mate from university. He just made it down here to Cornwall." Ron said, and suddenly got up to fetch more drinks, but Ginny didn't miss the glares Hermione was shooting Ron from across the fire.

"Do you reckon we go a bit further away?" Ginny, being so busy interpreting the look Hermione was giving Ron, hadn't noticed the boy had shifted closer to her.

"Uh, sure." She found herself slightly tongue tied, staring into green amber.

"Brilliant, Let's go?" Harry got up, and lent Ginny a hand. She took it, and a slight warmth, probably not from the fire, ran down her spine when their hands remained connected.

They walked away from the party, not too far that a search team would be required, but just far enough to hold a conversation in peace. The music slightly played in the background, a slower guitar theme, and Ginny turned around to see Ron and Hermione swaying around the fire, the brightest smile settled on both their faces. Ginny simply let out a happy sigh, attention darting down to entwined hands.

"So, Ron tells me you're in drama?" He asked, as they sat down near the water with their legs bent, just that the waves touched their toes and washed back.

"Yes, I am, final year now. Although I haven't heard a lot about you?" Ginny teased. Harry simply chuckled, a sound she realised she found much more attractive than she should have.

"Well it's a shame since I am his best mate but, Harry Potter, third year medic, at your service." He lightly bowed his head, eliciting a giggle out of the girl.

"Medicine huh, that definitely sounds hectic." She commented, as her fingers drew an absent minded pattern in the sand separating their sitting figures.

"I also captain the football team." He replied, eyes shining with humor. Ginny looked up, wondering if it was a coincidence that the man she found extremely fit also checked off all her criterion of 'boyfriend'.

"Oh- well I don't know how you found the time to be here, what with studying and football." Ginny smiled. Harry looked back at her, eyes boring into her brown ones. "Only because I was told someone stunning was going to be here." He said in a lower voice. Ginny flushed under the stare.

"I'm sure having those feelings for your best mate's girlfriend is not a good idea." She teased, feeling some confidence seeping into her. Harry scooted closer, placing a hand on Ginny's.

"And what if I said they weren't for the girlfriend, but for the sister?" His eyes darted down to her lips, her own pulse quickening. Then continuing with her sudden confidence, she unconsciously leaned in, her lips just millimeters away from Harry's. "The sister would definitely like that because she thinks you're extremely fit too." Ginny whispered, her lips just brushing against Harry's before he closed the distance completely.

The two of them sat there, away from the party, lips moving in slow sync as if they were doing the communicating. Getting to know each other in silent movements, a dance of attraction and dominance. Thee music faded in the background, as behind her closed eyes Ginny saw stars, and faintly made out the sound of fireworks exploding behind them. Not that she'd admit it to anyone, of course.

But in that moment, it was just her, Harry and the cool water playing with their feet. And when they finally pulled apart, Ginny secretly swore that she saw her reflection in green pools glow and sparkle.

Not that she'd ever admit it, obviously.

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TAGLIST: @amy-herondale-chase // @purplepygmypuffskein // @ginnypxtter // @alwaysmagica1 // @norakelly // @her-blazing-look //

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Okay, I hope you guys enjoyed that! I wrote that when I was half asleep, so I'm not even sure if most of it makes sense haha.

As usual, if you want to join the taglist and be notified whenever I write a new Hinny story (which will be much more frequently now), please interact with the pinned TAGLIST post on my account!

Thank you for reading, and please interact with the post! Reblogs are always appreciated but likes and comments are just as amazing! Loads of virtual hugs xxx

#hinny #alternate universe #harry potter #headcanon #harry x ginny #ginny weasley #romance #au #fiction #beach #summer #party #okay out of tags #writing #ao3 writer #taglist

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