not sure how i feel about the fact that i spent more effort on this than anything else i did today

Perfect - A Remus Lupin Imagine

A/N: This was mostly written as a personal / cathartic piece. I considered keeping this private, but then I realized someone else out there might need this as badly as I did. This is by far the most emotionally taxing piece I have ever written. The content is heavy and I cried while writing it, so be careful if you choose to read on. Please do not read if you are triggered by self-hate, (self) body-shaming, or similar themes. I would hate to upset anyone else…if you ever need to talk, I’m here.

Originally posted by nellaey

She trudged down the stairs, praying that her book would be right where she left it. She had little patience for side quests today. Thankfully, there it sat. On the table she’d been sitting at hours prior. Still opened to the page she’d been memorizing on Draught of Living Death. 

Hustling toward it, she scooped it up into her arms and turned to head back up to her room. Incredibly eager to fall into her bed and ignore everything for a while. Perhaps forever.

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Harry Styles is a model and the currently most in-demand face in the fashion industry who might be just a little bit too full of himself and Janey Darling is the photographer that knocks him off his high horse… and subsequently off his feet.

this is the rewrite of my 2016 autumn exchange fic with added scenes. about 8.5k words. slightly nsfw towards the end and if you read this far you might as well…

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Bring It On

Originally posted by fyeahriverdale

A/N: This…. I don’t even know honestly, I can’t explain how this happened but here we are. 

Request:  Veronica x Plus size reader. Veronica treats the reader like a queen and when Cheryl and her besties insult the reader, Veronica loses her shit and releases her inner psychopath. 

Word Count: 1,591 

Warnings: Cheryl’s an ass hole, and Veronica is terrifying… you said inner psychopath and APPARENTLY I took that literally damn, also there’s a swear.

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After all this time, Always (Newt x reader)

Originally posted by savemefromthisaddiction

Summary: You always dreamt everything would be alright, you wanted to be happy and you wanted Newt to be happy. But, once again, you’re in the shadow. And this time, you can’t take it anymore.

Words count: 3949

Warning: Sadness and regrets

A/N: Hi! I’m sorry for not posting for a long time, I’m still writing but with school, I just don’t find the time with my studies (I’m the equivalent of a sophomore). But I’m on holidays so I’ll try my best to post stories. Well, I hope you all have a good day! And requests are open by the way!

And just before you start reading:

  1. -Y/S/N: your shop’s name
  2. -The italic stands for the place the reader is reminiscing the past

   You were rummaging through the pile of stuff in front of you, picking up what belonged to you. You were feeling so sad right now. You wished to be angry, to hate her, hate him. But you couldn’t: the only one you were able to blame was you. Because, after all this time, you thought for a brief moment that he would return your feelings.

   After all, you knew him since your childhood: your parents were in good terms with his and you quickly became friend with him. You were always the first one he would talk about his discoveries and you were the first one he told about his dream.

   At this time, you were still toddlers and all you could think -or much all you wanted to think- about was to dream of what you will be when you are older. You absolutely loved to hear him explain his dream to you: he would take care of beasts, just like he took care of his own Puffskein or his mother’s hippogriffs. He would make the world realise their importance and he would make everyone stop treating the poor animals badly. And you trusted him: if someone could do it, it was him! He was always so kind and so patient… Yes, he could do it.

   At the end of this speech, you always asked in a tiny voice « And, will I have the permission to travel with you? Because it would be so lonely without you… » To this, he would perpetually answer with a smile going all the way up to his eyes « Of course, you’ll come with me! You’ll help me and I will teach you about them and you will take care of them with me! »

   All of this started when you were so young… You never expected it to end in this way. And not now. But, to state the truth, you never expected it to end at all.

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Signed to Kill (Pt. 10)


Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
◊ Summary: You were employed in an agency that made its money by taking lives. However, things get hard when you’re contracted to kill a young idol.
◊ Genre: fluff
◊ Word Count: 1,611

|Chapter 10

One Year Later

Jungkook had never been happier in his life. BTS was getting more popular by the day, he was finally making more friends in the industry, and he felt so much happier now. Every part of his life was going so smoothly, considering how things were the year before.

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‘Excerpts from Journal #4’

rating: gen
word count: 3229
summary: A first-person view of Stanford Pines’ initial thoughts and discoveries of the strangest anomalies of all—his own family.
a/n: before i say anything else, this wonderful fic wasn’t written by me, but @theaustinstollhaus
he popped out of a hole in the internet like a weird genie and took me up on a fanfic request, follow him. seriously all the credit goes to him, but he insisted i post it.

the foundation/inspiration that lead to the making of this was this post, which i’m sure a lot of you might remember.

(personally when i first read this i was so blown away by how delightfully and humorously in-character it is, almost as if these were excerpts from the actual journal and i hope you enjoy it as much as i did <3)

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Always Have, Always Will

Fandom: Marvel Avengers

Word count: 1812

Characters: Loki x reader, Thor

Warnings: Loki gets jealous, angsty, mentions of gambling, misogyistic insults.

Summary: Loki is jealous of your relationship with Thor, and says something he’ll regret.

“And I win again!” Thor boomed cheerfully, throwing his hand of cards down onto the table. “You must really learn to keep your face calm, brother. That’s a lot of money you owe me, now.”

“It’s all just luck,” Loki grumbled. “No real skill involved at all.” Although he was grinning as cheerfully as his brother, he was working hard to hide the resentment. It felt like a sour little seed buried deep within his stomach.

“Are you two really arguing this early in the morning? Honestly, you would think the Princes of Asgard had been brought up better than that.”

Matching grins grew on Thor and Loki’s faces as they turned to face you. Your gown swished around your ankles as you made your way towards them, a wide grin on your face. “And good morning to you, too, Lady Y/N,” Thor greeted you.

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Parenting 101.

We sat at the dining room table together, beginning to dig into our plates of food after a long day and me spending hours preparing tonight’s dinner for once. Most of the time the past few weeks I had to settle for take-out due to being sick but now I was glad to return to the kitchen and it seemed Marco and Alex were glad as well as they began to down their food.

“So are you excited about the match in a few weeks?” Marco questioned as he looked to our eight year old son. I knew Marco was excited to see our son becoming proficient in football. He had found his way into his very first club and he was adjusting well and developing faster than most. To me, it wasn’t surprising at all considering his upbringing. He was always in the yard with a ball between his feet.

Alex paused, dropping his fork to his plate. “Actually…there’s a play at school that weekend.” A certain glow of happiness overtook him as his face transformed from showing signs of being nervous to displaying a wide smile, a proud smile. “My teacher said I could play Orlando in ‘As You Like It’. It’s a Shakespeare play but don’t worry it’s the kiddie version,” he assured.

I looked from him and towards Marco who had a stale look on his face. I turned back to our son and offered a small smile. “That’s great.”

“I know. He’s the lead so it’s a big role.”

Marco interrupted then. “And you told your teacher you were going to do it?”

His smile sunk as he looked down towards his plate timidly. “I told her I’d ask Mom first to see if she could drop me off at the rehearsals and stuff.”

“You’re dropping football?”

“No. I…I can do both right? I would only be missing one match.”

A dark chuckle left Marco’s throat. He knew his son knew well enough that he couldn’t do both but that he was trying to ease his father’s disappointment by pretending to still be vested in the sport. I knew he really wasn’t. He was skillful at it and yes he enjoyed it but I wasn’t sure it brought him as much happiness as it did for Marco to watch him. “You can’t do school and football and plays all at the same time. Its way too much for you especially at your age. You need to focus on your studies and then you can have something to do on the side.”

“Well…I want it to be acting,” he muttered lowly.

There was a deafening silence at the table. I chewed the remaining salad in my mouth but no one else dared to put another piece of food onto their forks. Marco dropped his napkin to the table, sending his chair back as he stood. “I’m not hungry anymore.” He walked away from the table and out of the kitchen, out of sight. I looked to Alex who had a disappointed look on his face. I gave as much of a smile as I could muster before I leaned over and kissed his forehead, running my fingers through his spiked hair. “I’ll be right back, okay? Finish your food.” He nodded and I got up to follow after Marco who I found in the bathroom, his hands gripping either side of the sink.

As soon as I entered he shut the door behind me and I could tell immediately he was upset. “Acting? Seriously? What is he going to be the next Brad Pitt?” He said aloud though I knew it wasn’t really meant to be questions that needed answers. “He was so into football and all of a sudden everything changed?”

“He’s young. His interests are going to change.”

He now looked at me sternly. “You didn’t even back me up out there. You just made it seem like it was okay he was dropping the club for some play at school.”

“Because it is okay! You’re the one who wants him to play football so bad so that he can follow in your footsteps but maybe that’s not what he wants anymore. What, did you want me to tell him he can’t do it and he has to play football instead?”

“Yes! We put a lot of time, effort and money into finding a place for him and you want me to encourage him to just quit?!”

“He’s eight, Marco! It’s not quitting! He’s going to find new interests. Yesterday it was football and today it’s acting. Tomorrow it could be dancing or painting or tennis! Who knows!”

“Right,” he nodded with a bitter smile gracing his lips. “Like you wanted to become a doctor and then your major was business and then history and then you thought you may have wanted to do psychology and you ended up doing none of those things.”

I was stunned, realizing that Marco had just thrown that in my face. University was a whirlwind of a period for me. I entered not really knowing what I wanted to do and ended up leaving without a degree to even show for the work I put in during the 2 and a half years I was there. I had gotten pregnant when Marco and I were just 22. I didn’t know what to do but I knew I couldn’t handle being pregnant and in school by myself so I dropped out, choosing to move in with him instead. It wasn’t the easiest decision. In fact, it was probably the hardest one I had ever made in my life.

My parents were disappointed in me, feeling as if I had thrown away my life for some guy who they thought I was erroneously madly in love with. They were wrong about one thing: I had thrown my potential for a degree away for a man I was rightfully madly in love with. I could admit though that I had let the ‘what ifs’ run through my mind more than enough times.

I gulped down the bitter taste in my mouth and looked up at Marco, his features softening from anger to guilt. He closed his eyes as if trying to rewind time and wash away his harsh words. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

I shook my head and though near tears, I forced myself to speak. “No. You’re right. You’re absolutely right. Maybe he won’t even end up liking acting but he should at least be given the choice to try it out for himself and not allow you to dictate his choices. You’re the footballer. That doesn’t mean he has to be one too.”

I didn’t bother to wait for Marco to say anything else. I just walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind me, heading to the kitchen so that I could clean away the plates. I was sure no one had an appetite anymore.

I saw Alex still sitting at the table, mindlessly picking at his near empty plate. A small smile plumped my lips though my teeth remained hidden. I began to walk over to him and he noticed my presence as he looked over my shoulder. He said, “You kinda remind me of Rosalind. She’s the female lead. She’s really strong and brave and pretty.”

I bent down to his level, placing a kiss to his cheek. “You are going to be a fine Orlando, Lex.”

Marco and I didn’t talk for the rest of the night. I cleared away all of the dishes and disposed of the trash and he remained upstairs, in our bedroom with the door closed. I tried to assure Alex that Marco wouldn’t remain mad much longer but it seemed he did more of the reassuring than I did, letting me know that he knew he’d come around. I just hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

I knew how much he wanted to see his son follow in his footsteps. He was still some years away from his own exit from the sport but he wanted to have the safety of knowing that his son was following soon behind him to fill in his shoes. It seemed that maybe that dream of having the prodigy son wasn’t going to come true and that was probably what hurt him the most, that his dream would be relegated to just that.

A dream.

After cleaning up everything and turning off the lights, I headed upstairs for bed. When I pushed open the door I found Marco laying in bed, his computer sitting on his lap as he had himself propped up with pillows. He didn’t speak a word to me and I said nothing myself.

I spent at least an hour stirring about under the warm blankets and trying to drift off to sleep but it was of no use. I could hear the keys of his computer as he typed and clicked away. I closed my eyes again and laid there for a while. I felt the bed shift under me as Marco got up and headed to the bathroom in silence. I peaked over my shoulder while he was away to try and see what was up on his computer.

There were three tabs open. One was a google search of ‘what to get an actor after a show’. The second was a YouTube clip of a stage play version of ‘As You Like It’ and the third was a script of the play.

I smiled to myself before rolling over and closing my eyes, now able to easily find a way to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, Marco wasn’t beside me. My face frowned with confusion. He was normally asleep longer than I was and then I was reminded of our argument last night. He may have decided to escape to one of the other rooms.

I stretched under the blankets and tossed them to the side, stepping out of them and headed down the steps. I could hear Marco’s voice from where I was descending the steps.

“Come on. I know you remember the line. You have to. I’ll be Rosalind this time and you just say the next line.”

I could hear Alex laugh. “Rosalind is a girl in this scene. You can’t be her.” Marco laughed as well. “Let’s just pretend I am this time, okay? Now come on. You got this.”

I realized Marco was holding a tablet in his hand and Alex had a thick packet of paper in his hand, reading along as his father said his line. “Do, young sir. Your reputation shall not therefore be misprised: we will make it our suit to the duke that the wrestling might not go forward.” I giggled to myself. He was quite the character and had even adapted his own accent to flow through Rosalind’s words.

Alex confidently thrust his fist in the air. “I be—“ He paused, holding out the paper for Marco to read. “Papa, how do you say that word?”


“Oh.” He continued his part. “I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts where I confess me guilty, to deny so fair and…”

“Excellent,” Marco aided.

“Excellent…” he repeated. “Ladies any thing!”

From where I stood I broke out into a clap. Marco turned to look at me and Alex broke out into a proud smile. “Ma! We made you breakfast. Well, blueberry muffins.” I didn’t even have time to utter a thank you before he was sprinting towards the kitchen.

I walked over to Marco, a shy smile on his face. “Well look at you, Rosalind.”

“I figured he should know at least part of the real version if he wants to show up the other kids.”

“He’s really happy you came around, y’know?”

“Trust me, I know. He’s been thanking me all morning. I guess I just…didn’t want to see him give up football but if this is what he likes,” he picked up the script Alex had dropped, waving it around whimsically. “Shakespeare and all, then I guess I like it too.”

A devilish smirk formed his features. “Did you realize you were my Rosalind?”

I broke out into a laugh. “Now you’re going too far with this Shakespeare stuff.”

“Am I?” He taunted as he walked closer to me, wrapping his arms around me. He dropped his tone as he moved his lips closer to my neck as he recited, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” He placed a delicate kiss to my skin.

“Did you just recite—“

“I may have done a little research to understand the guy, may have watched the Leonardo DiCaprio version of Romeo & Juliet last night.” He leaned back so that I could see his face again. I giggled.

“You are way too cute, Romeo.”

gif credit to piszchu

jiminie-jams-bts  asked:

Could you do a react of BTS finding you on the verge of tears after you had just found out your dad had passed away? (Sorry I'm a sucker for sappiness)

I thought that this kind of followed up the parent missing request, so I went ahead and did it. I hope you like it~ Also, I’m a bit sick, so this is the only request for today, sorry!

Gifs aren’t mine

Seokjin, after finding out that your dad had passed away, would want to talk to you about it. Of course, he wouldn’t force you to talk if you didn’t want to, but he also didn’t want you to keep your emotions bottled up. What he wanted to talk about wasn’t your emotions, though, or not exactly; he wanted to help you come to terms with your father’s death. He knew it wasn’t something that could happen overnight, but he also knew that death was something everyone experienced, and holding on to that sadness for the rest of your life wasn’t a good thing. Sure, you could feel a pang of sadness every time you thought back to your father, but he wanted to be sure that sadness wasn’t the only thing you felt when thinking about him. The process would take a while, but Jin would be there every step of the way, listening to you and offering advice when he could.

Originally posted by jungkooksarms

Yoongi wouldn’t quite know what to say to you after finding out that your dad had died, but he knew that he couldn’t just say nothing. He needed to comfort you, and he did, but not in the way that most people would; after pulling you into a quick yet tight hug, he asked if you’d eaten. If you hadn’t, he would make sure that you ate something, even if it wasn’t much. He would make sure you took a shower or bath - whichever you found more calming - because he knew it was more difficult to feel happy when you didn’t feel clean. He would do anything he could to make sure you didn’t shut down, though he also made sure to not be too forceful for fear that you would push him away. In the days, weeks, and months that followed, Yoongi would either visit or text you, asking how you were doing, what you’d eaten that day, and if you’d already taken your shower or bath before moving on to have an actual conversation.

Originally posted by beagletae

Hoseok, despite the fact that he hated to see you cry, would adamantly tell you not to bottle up any of your feelings, especially not in front of him. If you wanted to cry it out, then you should, and if you could cry it out on his shoulder, then that was even better. He would hold you silently, running his fingers through your hair and rocking you back and forth as you either sniffled or outright bawled into his sleeve, and though he knew that one cry session wouldn’t make everything better, he hoped it would at least reduce the sadness so that you didn’t break down once he’d left. He would make an effort to see you every evening, not always bringing up your father but making sure that you at least managed one smile before he left. The first time you laughed, he knew you were getting better, though that didn’t stop his visits. He wouldn’t stop checking up on you until you forced him to.

Originally posted by asdfghobi

Namjoon immediately pulled you into a hug after you’d told him that your father had died, though it didn’t last very long; he pulled away after only a moment, holding you at arm’s length to ask if you wanted to talk. Not about your dad, necessarily, just about the future. Did this change your outlook on anything? Would your family have to move because of this? How would your father’s death affect you through the next few years? If that got too heavy for you or you didn’t want to think that far ahead, Namjoon would stop asking questions about the future and would instead ask ones about the present; How were you? Was there anything he could do to help you or your family? Did you want to stay with him or did you want him to stay with you for a few days? He would listen to anything you had to say and would add his input whenever he thought it was needed.

Jimin wouldn’t know what to say; he didn’t even know if he should say anything. What could he say in this situation that would make you feel better? So, rather than speaking, he’d decide to take you out. Not on a date, as he figured you probably weren’t up for that, but in any other situation it might have seemed like a date; he took you to a serene, peaceful location - mountains, waterfalls, parks, the beach, or wherever else you preferred - and just spent the day with you. He wouldn’t speak unless you spoke first; he wanted you to open up to him, but he didn’t want to push you, and he wanted you to take your time building up the nerve to talk about it. But, if you hadn’t opened up to him after a week had passed, he would carefully bring it up, once again in a setting you found calming, and he would just listen as you talked, offering comfort in any way he could.

Originally posted by jiminuh

Taehyung would want to distract you from your sadness. He knew that that probably wasn’t the best way to cope, but he also knew that he couldn’t stand to see you so upset, and he wanted you to at least be in a slightly better mood before trying to talk to you about your father’s death. He would start a marathon of your favorite movies or shows, settle down in front of the television with you, and just hold you until you finally broke the silence between the two of you. Once you had, he would listen intently to anything you said, crying with you if you cried, pulling you into a hug if you choked up, and constantly assuring you that he would help in any way he could and he would be there for you whenever you needed him. After the conversation ended, either because you couldn’t say any more or didn’t have anything else to say, he would return to cuddling you, and the two of you would return to watching whatever was on until you fell asleep against him.

Originally posted by taestylips

Jungkook would have absolutely no idea what he was supposed to say in this situation, but he eventually decided that he probably shouldn’t say much. You should be the one to do the talking, not him. He didn’t ask how he died or how you felt about it; instead, he asked you to tell him stories about your dad. It might hurt, but he figured that you needed to think about the good times to get through the bad, so he might push a bit to try to coax you into talking if you refused at first, but he would drop it and instead just cuddle you if it hurt too much for you to talk about him. If you got choked up while telling stories, a few tears might escape Jungkook, but he’d try his best to stay strong for you, smiling when he could while you told him about happy memories, even managing a chuckle or two if you were trying hard to smile. He’d probably break down once you weren’t around, wishing he could do something more, but the day he saw you smile a genuine smile, he’d know he was doing enough.

Originally posted by jayfatuasian

“Bedtime Stories”

REQUEST (by @supernaturalpllfan1):  Hi. Could you write an imagine where Peter Parker is babysitting your younger sister, and when you get back they’re sleeping with a book next to them? I think that’d be absolutely adorable

NOTE: This is an aMAZING REQUEST!! I felt like squealing so many times because of how cute it was… Of course I named the little boy Tom smh I’m much too crazy about him…

Originally posted by nalianova

     The final bell signalling the end of classes rang a few seconds ago, but your pencil was still madly scribbling across the page. Heart beating fast, you frantically tried to finish up your essay coherently.

    “Time’s up, Y/N.” Your teacher spoke from the front of the room as the rest of the class filtered out, you being the last person still seated. Dropping your pencil, you let out a breath, your hands shaking slightly as you picked up the papers and handed them in. You guess you weren’t able to hide the disappointment and worry in your expression as you bit your lip, since the teacher looked at you concernedly. “Don’t worry about it, Y/N. There will be chances to make up marks later on, okay?” 

     You nodded, not making eye contact as you picked up your books and walked towards the door. Glancing up, you spotted your best friend, Peter Parker standing just outside the doorway with a worried expression on his face. He’d finished his essay thirty minutes earlier than everyone else, so the fact that he’d stayed after class for you made you feel slightly better, just the sight of him bringing a brief smile to your lips. 

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Frosting - a birthday ficlet

So this was something I was working on for Harry’s birthday, but I heard ourloveislegendrarry could use a little love.  So I’m posting this today for you.  Us Drarry squad gotta stick together. :)

At precisely six Draco apparated home, directly into the kitchen.  He’d expected to find Harry in there.  Harry was always in the kitchen; eating, cooking, cleaning.  Draco thought Harry had a strange obsession with the kitchen, but as it meant Draco always ate very well and didn’t have to cook or clean he was truly rather pleased about it.

The sight that greeted him however was a bit of a surprise.  Draco couldn’t decide whether to smile or frown as he took in the scene before him.  The counters were covered in various mixing bowls, there was a dusting of flour on just about ever surface and the oven was glowing and making that funny beeping sound which Draco knew meant Harry was cooking something.  Not to mention the smell; the entire flat smelled like heaven.  And Draco knew what he was making, he knew the second he smelled it; it was a cake.  Though he couldn’t figure out why for the life of him Harry was making a cake on his own birthday.  Especially as Draco was quite certain he mentioned fancy dinner plans before he’d left that morning.  And he’d left a note in Harry’s robe pocket to make sure he didn’t forget.  

Draco had specifically told Harry not to cook; told him he’d be home at exactly six and to be ready.  Draco had planned the evening quite carefully.  He’d made reservations at a very nice wizarding establishment and had planned on charming the pants off Harry all night until they came out blissfully happy and drunk.  It was a wonderful plan, or so Draco had thought.  Unfortunately it didn’t like his plan was going to go quite as he’d hoped.

He walked towards the stove and peered inside another bowl sitting on the edge of the counter.  There was mounds of thick, fluffy white frosting.  Draco couldn’t help himself he stuck a finger in it, sticking it into his mouth and letting out a sigh as the sweetness enveloped his tongue.  Harry really was a wonderful cook.  It had shocked Draco more than anything else when they had first gotten together.  Even more shocking, at least as far as Draco was concerned, was the fact that Harry liked to do it all the muggle way.  No magic in the kitchen he’d said once.  Draco hadn’t understood.  Yet as the years passed it became something incredible.  Draco had grown to look forward to Sunday mornings when he knew he would walk into the kitchen in the morning and find Harry making something delicious, no doubt wearing nothing but an apron.  Those morning whatever Harry was cooking usually burned and it wasn’t Draco’s fault.  No it was always Harry’s fault for being so utterly delicious, at least that what’s Draco always told him.  Or all the other times he would apparate home after a long day feeling angry and tense, but the second he was home he would smell something amazing cooking and he would relax.  It wasn’t really the food, though it was truly delicious.  No, if Draco was honest about it, it was what the act itself represented.  It was the fact that Harry spent so much time and energy doing it for Draco.  Oh sure Draco was used to being waited on and fawned over in his lifetime.  But he’d never had someone go to so much effort just to please him.  It did something funny to Draco’s chest every time he thought about Harry doing something just for him; taking care of him.

Draco was startled out of his thought process as he realized the oven was beeping at him rather loudly.  “Shut up,“ he muttered, tapping the oven with his wand rather aggressively.  He frowned when it continued to beep rather angrily at him.  

Just then Harry ran in, cursing under his breath and bustling about the kitchen in a flurry.  Draco stepped back, taking it all in.  Harry was naked, except for a towel wrapped low around his waist, and there were tiny drops of water trickling down his back and resting in the dip at the bottom of his spine.  Harry had a beautiful back, and Draco was quite enjoying his view.  The only thing Draco liked better than a naked Harry was a naked and flustered Harry.  That also did rather funny things to his chest when he thought about it,

“Bugger, thought I had time to shower before it would be done,” Harry mumbled, looking up at Draco a bit sheepishly.

“I’m not quite sure that’s an appropriate outfit, Harry.  I’m quite sure I said dress robes.  Though I do think your birthday suit is quite becoming.”  

Harry flushed, warmth spreading up his cheeks.

“You’re not mad are you?  I know you said not to cook and I know I’m not actually ready yet, but,” and Harry trailed off a bit nervously.  His fingers tangled into the edge of his towel and Draco was transfixed as he watched the drops of water glide down Harry’s golden chest, resting n the soft trail of dark hair below his belly button.  


“Why are you making your own birthday cake?” Draco asks, tearing his away from Harry’s abdomen and congratulation himself on getting out such a coherent sentence when he’s quite sure the only real thought in his brain is fucking Harry senseless.

“Right, well I just remember how much you loved that cake I made for your birthday.”  Harry says it so earnestly, his eyes bright and smile relaxed as if it’s the most normal thing in the world for Harry to make Draco a cake on his own birthday.  And there it is again, that tightness in Draco’s chest that makes him feel entirely whole and shattered all at one.

“Oh, Harry,” Draco says walking towards Harry. There is possessive look in Draco’s eyes that Harry definitely can’t miss.

Draco kisses Harry, pushing him back against the counter and pressing against him until every inch of his body is pressed into Harry’s.  It’s slow at first, soft and sweet, as Draco tangles his long, delicate fingers into Harry’s still damp hair.  He sighs, dragging his tongue along Harry’s bottom lip until Harry opens his mouth in a whimper and that’s all it takes before everything shifts.  Draco is distinctly aware of the sound of breaking glass but he can’t be bothered to care about what it is they’ve knocked over because his mind can focus on one thing only and that one thing is Harry; has always been Harry.

Harry melts into him immediately, hooking his right leg behind Draco’s trying to pull him in even closer.  Harry makes a dissatisfied noise when Draco pulls out of the embrace but Draco is fast and before Harry can open his mouth to ask why Draco has stopped Harry feels something thick being spread down his stomach.  “Bugger,” Harry whispers as he looks down watching as Draco’s fingers drag  a thick stripe of frosting from his belly button to the tip of his quickly hardening cock.  He sucks in a breath as Draco pulls back again, looking up and smirking at Harry.

“Well you went all the trouble.  It would be rude of me not to taste it,” Draco says.

Then Draco is doing things that can only be described as sinful; sucking and licking and teasing.  Draco’s mouth is everywhere, sucking and licking off the frosting then leaving a trail of kisses behind.  He doesn’t hesitate, wrapping his mouth around Harry’s cock and humming in satisfaction at the bitter taste of Harry’s pre-cum mixed with the overly sweet frosting.  Harry moans loudly, knocking another bowl on the floor as he struggles to keep himself standing upright.  

Harry’s finger’s find their way into Draco’s hair, stroking his head as Draco’s mouth bobs back and forth taking Harry in as deep as he can and sucking a bit harder than normal to get all the frosting off.  Draco knows Harry better than he knows himself, he knows he could drag this out even longer, teasing Harry until he can’t even walk or talk.  Except right now all Draco can think about is making Harry lose it.  He has no time for patience or games.  Draco knows exactly how to please Harry, and so he does.

It’s only a few moments later that Harry is whimpering as he slides down the kitchen cupboards to land in a heap next to Draco.

“Fuck me,” Harry whispers, grinning at Draco with the most beautiful green eyes, as he crawls onto his knees to kiss Draco.

Draco is about to respond when he notices a funny smell.  Harry seems to have noticed it to because suddenly he’s jumping up, cursing and pulling a very burnt looking cake out of the oven.

“Bugger.  Shit,” Harry curses, dropping the burnt cake onto the counter and frowning.   Then just as suddenly he looks up at Draco, his eyes alight with mischief.  “Actually, no that’s good.  Great even.  I have an even better idea!”

Before Draco can ask what exactly this brilliant idea is, Harry has grabbed the rest of the bowl of frosting and is dragging Draco down the hallway, and all Draco can do is grin.  

Sure, it might technically be Harry’s birthday but he’s pretty sure tonight they’re both going to get what they wish for.