really harry you want to get him to your bed we all know it

On the concept of Soulmate AUs

You know what I’m tired of? Soulmate AUs with the protagonist/antagonist ship as the main pairing that always has the villain who reacts the best to the situation, and the hero freaking out.

What I want to see is a hero who gets it, who understands that yeah, their soulmate may kind of be a murdering psychopath, but that’s cool, they can deal with that, they can live through it, but what’s not cool is them totally looking the other way and avoiding the hell out of them.

Give me the realisation that they’re soulmates in the middle of a fight, when they’re bloody and bruised and tired and they just slip, skin on skin contact, and then the whole world just shifts into place.

“This can’t be happening.”

“Have you every heard of opposites attract?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“But- Okay, yeah, we’re doing this.”

Give me a brutal fight that ends with a “Since when do my attacks hurt this much?” and the villain slowly realising that they can’t kill themselves out of this situation, that they can’t escape this because they’re soul bonded to a kid with a hero complex who is constantly trying to thwart them and is now for some reason grinning at them like a lunatic because they supposedly belong together. And damn does suddenly being able to feel emotions and pain that wasn’t his sting, because he has enough shit to deal with on his own without the added pressure, thanks.

Give me snarky comments and miniature fights in the middle of the night when the hero catches the antagonist coming back from who knows where, bloody and in pain and maybe a little too bust up, to say they won the fight.

“You usually look happier to see me.”

“You killed someone this morning.”

“What gave it away?”

“You mean besides the fact that you’re covered in blood and I felt every moment of it?”

Give me the villain slowly getting used to the idea that hey, they’re sort of going to have to put up with this little ray of sunshine for a while even though he kind of hates his guts and wants to kill him, but also give me the villain wondering what they ever did to deserve this. What could they possibly have done that was so great, so obscenely terrifyingly amazing that they could be soul bonded to a person like this, someone so innocent and righteous and downright beautiful that half of it seems like a mad dream?

“Not every bad guy has a tragic past.”

“But you do. I’ve seen it.”

“I’m going to punch you.”

“That would be counterproductive to what we’re doing here.”

“…”

“That hurt you as much as it hurt me.”

“Worth it.”

Give me tempers flaring and bristling arguments and the hero getting so tired, but still carrying on, not because they think that there’s some good in the antagonist or because they think they can change them, but because this is their soulmate, the person that the fates chose for him, his other half, someone that he had to protect and look after and love, because if not him, then who else was going to?

“I am going to hurt you. I’m going to rip out your intestines and strangle you with them.”

“You’ve been pretty good today. That’s three less death threats than yesterday.”

“Prepare to have your balls removed with a butcher’s knife and shoved down your throat, asshole.”

“I’m still counting this as progress.”

Give me the antagonist not realising the reality that this isn’t someone who wants something from him, who wants to change him, use him, abuse him, but rather someone who just wants to be with him, love him. Give me an antagonist who can’t understand the concept that somebody might actually care.

“I thought this was what you wanted! The sex, the cuddling, the stupid hand-holding. What more could you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Yes you do. They always do! Just tell me what you want and you can have it. Just leave me alone, please. I can’t take this anymore.”

“I want you to trust me, to believe me when I say that I love you.”

“You’re only saying that because of the bond.”

“No, I’m not. I’ve seen everything that you have, felt what you feel, heard what you’ve heard. Maybe at first, a little, it was just because of the bond, but then I fell in love with you, the real you, the one behind all the fronts that you put up.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I didn’t expect you too, but you will, one day. I’m not giving up on you.”

Give me the hero facing shit from their friends and family, because they don’t understand why they’re trying so hard and putting up with so much shit, even though he’s his soulmate, but the hero just shrugging and smiling because they get it, and it doesn’t matter if everyone else doesn’t.

“He threatens to brutally mutilate you constantly.”

“I like to believe it’s how he expresses his affections.”

“He tried to kill you so many times.”

“There was only the once after we found out about the bond, though.”

“You’re making excuses now.”

“It’s just that there’s so much anger in him, all of the time. I don’t know how anyone could live like that. I want to help him.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“That’s not my biggest concern anymore. He is.”

Give me a hero who tries so, so hard, and a villain who, despite everything, slowly gives in. Give me quiet nights laid in bed or watching the stars, no words and only their hands touching, just the sensation of palm against palm enough. Give me heated arguments, rage, unsteady headiness at the realisation that they’re not going to leave each other, no matter what happens.

Give me a soulmate AU where the hero doesn’t react badly, isn’t scared or hateful that their soulmate is their arch nemesis, the big bad guy, the villain they can never seem to get rid of, because really they should have expected that all along. Because no one hates that much without there being a little something more behind it.

Prompt 1

Original headcanon by @ harry-is-lily-ginny-is-james!!!

It’s still monday! …for a half an hour anyway. This one ended up being much bigger than I originally planned. I hope you like it~



“It’s all the paper talks about anymore,” Draco frowned, “Stupid Potter.”

“We’re agog,” Blaise said pouring himself and Draco a cup of coffee.

Pansy smothered a yawn and picked up a piece of toast, “Do tell.”

Draco folded his paper, eyes scanning past the picture to the drivel written below, “Potter’s going to join the auror’s, change the world,” he grumbled, “you’d think the sun shines out of his arsehole the way they go on about him.”

Pansy rolled her eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” A voice said behind him from the Ravenclaw table, “that Potter’s a total pillock.”

“Exactly-” Draco turned on his bench, his words choking off before they were halfway out of his mouth.

“I really don’t know what they see in him,” Potter said flatly, taking a massive bite of pancake.

Luna smiled absently at Potter’s side, “I don’t know, I’ve always thought he was quite nice.”

Potter picked up his pumpkin juice, “To-tal pil-lock.”

Draco felt his face go hot and he spun around back to his plate. Blaise quickly picked up his coffee cup to hide a growing smile. Pansy snorted, almost choking on her toast, she ducked her head and fumbled for her cup.

Draco grabbed his bag and left the table with an imperious sniff.

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anonymous asked:

You should totally do a blurb about Harry having to wake up really early for all of his radio interviews on Friday morning and having to say goodbye while (y/n) is still half asleep! It would be so cute and fluffy:)

This request was right up my alley. A bit of fluff before we all.. you know, die. x


Endeavor



He’s trying to move as quietly as possible, careful not to leave the bathroom door open more than a crack so the light doesn’t shine on your face as he tiptoes back and forth between it and the room. It’s early outside, the sky skill a dark, brooding shade of blue and the sun is still hibernating until it absolutely needs to be up.

He’s currently standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, trying to tame his wildly growing hair in a decent way. Although he won’t actually be on a television show today, he knows there’s bound to be paparazzi around the studios he’s going to. The tips Lou had given him have managed to fly out of his head. He sighs quietly, tapping his fingers along the counter and glancing at his reflection in the mirror. He takes a deep breath, puffing his cheeks out as he exhales. He’s nervous, exuberantly so. But even more so, he’s buzzing from his toes to the top of his head, the familiar feeling of anticipation and excitement bubbling in him. It’s been a year since he’s felt it, a year since he’s done what he loves to do, and this time around, he’s doing it exactly how he wants.

With one final glance towards the mirror, and a squirt of Tom Ford, he flips the switch gently and walks out into your room. His boots are clacking against the wood floors and he hisses, glancing up at you quickly as he comes to a stop. You’re unperturbed, though, still sound asleep with your head tilting a bit too far off your pillow. The skin around his eyes crinkle and the corners of his mouth lift up in his first smile of the day. The scene before him is one he’s seen many times, granted, usually he’s next to you with a much closer view. Your hair is sticking to your cheek and you’ve got the fluffy blankets you insist on having every night pulled up around you, he assumes to make up for the lack of his warmth. One of them is slipping off the bed and laying halfway on the floor.

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Massages

4.2k of smut, I’m not even sorry

‘OUCH! Stop, st- STOP IT PANSY! Argh, fuck, I think I broke a rib.’ Draco sat down on his bed, a painful expression on his face which was paler than usual.

‘You’re an ungrateful bastard’ Pansy flopped beside him pouting ‘the whole Slyntherin house knows I’m the best on giving massage’

‘Well, I better look for someone from other houses then’ Draco made another pained expression as he got up. ‘I can’t, I can’t walk. Argh, fuck!’ He laid down slowly. Pansy only stared at him from the door, the look on her a face a mixture of pity and remorse.

'I’ll get someone. Even though you were a little bitch just now.’ She glared at him before leaving.

It’d started three days before then. He was getting ready on Wednesday morning to practice quidditch. Everything was fine when he bent down to tie his shoelaces, but the second he straightened his back an acute pain hit him on his hips. It’d gotten worse the past two days to the point now he couldn’t even sit properly without feeling it.

He laid there, thinking maybe he would have to look for Madam Pomfrey after all. But fuck, those potions always messed up with his stomach, he’d do anything to avoid taking them even if it meant asking for someone he didn’t know to give him a massage. Pansy had told him she knew what she was doing but at the end it’d only worsened it.

***

'It’s for a friend, you see. He’s in a lot of pain at the moment and I was hoping you knew someone good on giving massages’ Pansy flopped down on a chair at the eighth year common room.

'Well,’ Hermione started, closing her arithmancy book. 'I do, but… who exactly is this friend of yours?’ She gave Pansy a look that could be translated as 'Are-we-talking-about-who-i-think-we-are-talking-about?’

'Draco’ Pansy sighed, predicting the other’s answer. 'But… I swear he’ll behave. And you owe me this one, right? After I brought you those French hair products’ Pansy smirked.

'You really are a Slytherin’ Hermione sighed 'but they were actually amazing. I’ll help you with this one but I can’t guarantee it’ll go well.’

Pansy gave her a quick hug, grinning. 'Who is it then?’

'Harry’ Hermione murmured to herself.

Pansy gasped and then laughed until tears were streaming down her face.

'Holy. Shit. Are you sure he’ll want to do it?’

Hermione gave her a little smile.

'He owes he a favor’

Pansy’s giggling was catching the attention of everyone around them.

'Who’s the Slytherin one now?’

***

'Tell me how amazing I am’

The girl bursted inside his dorm an hour after she’d left to find Draco in the same position.

'You found someone?’ He got up, regretting the decision immediately. 'Ah, shit! Are they outside? Please tell me they’re outside’

'They’ll be here in ten’ Pany sat by his side and poked his cheek 'go on, tell me how amazing I am’

'You’re amazing’ he grunted. When he looked at his friend, though, she wasn’t paying attention, busy with a little pink bag Draco hadn’t noticed she’d brought before. 'What-’

'Oils. For the massage’ she smirked and Draco felt blood going to his cheeks.

'There’s no need for that’

'They have properties. They could help’ she started to take the little flasks with different colors out of the bag and pile them on Draco’s bed.

A light knock on the door told them Pansy’s friends had arrived.

'C'mon in!’

'I just don’t understand why… No. No fucking way.’

'Harry, please, Pansy said-’

'What the actual fuck, Pansy!’ Draco started talking at the same time Hermione tried to stop Harry from leaving the room. 'This is… ah, shit shit- ARGH!’ Draco’s attempt to get up brought back the striking pain on his lower back and he felt his knees failing. The next second he was tumbling to the ground with a loud thud. Tears came uninvited to his eyes and he bit his lips as hard as he could to stop from screaming.

Draco didn’t look up to see who it was that was trying to help him get up. A firm hand went on the underside of his thigh as the other grabbed his shoulder firmly, pushing him to his feet just long enough for him to get to his bed. When he collapsed on his bed, flushed cheeks and tears still streaming down his face, everything he could think about was that maybe his time had come. Die would be better than suffer so much humiliation in front of Saint Potter, who was panting by his side.

Harry stared down at the boy in front of him, Malfoy’s face twisted in an ugly expression. It was like he was trying to sneer at Harry but the pain was too much even for that. Harry sighed and turned to see he was left alone in the room with an incapacitated Malfoy. Well, shit, that was just great. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone? Peace, it was all he was asking for after everything. But, oh no, he had to have asked Hermione for help with his potions homework the week before, and now he owed her this. Harry wouldn’t have denied giving a massage to any of his friends if they’d asked him. He’d helped Hermione, Ginny and even Luna in the past. But Malfoy? Give Malfoy a massage, after everything, almost sounded funny.

Except it wasn’t because Harry had a hero complex and he knew Malfoy wouldn’t ask for such a thing if he wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t even Malfoy who came looking for Hermione, it was Pansy, which meant he probably was in a lot of pain. He couldn’t walk, from what Harry could see.

Small flasks caught his attention, all of them pilled up beside Malfoy.

'What’s this?’ He grabbed one and put it against the light. The liquid inside was thicker than water.

'Oils. Pansy brought them. She said they could help. Not like you need to know this anyway since you won’t use them.’ Malfoy spoke through gritted teeth, facing the wall opposite to where Harry stood. So he was expecting him to leave, that cocky bastard.

'Take off your shirt then’ Harry levitated all the tiny flasks to the ground and picked up one randomly. When he opened it the smell of cinnamon filled the room. Malfoy stared at him like he’d gone insane.

'What do you think you’re doing?’ he asked slowly.

'Well, maybe a massage since that’s what Hermione asked me to do and I can’t have a fucking moment of peace in this castle. And since you seem to be unable to even walk I advise you shut the fuck up and take off your shirt so I can see what’s wrong and finish in time for dinner’ Harry looked up to find Malfoy gaping at him.

'Do you even-’

'Yes, I do know how to do it, you prick. And I’m using this one, so take off your shirt’ Harry signaled to the open flask in his hands as he sat down on the far end of the bed.

He didn’t quite know how the oil would help since he’d never used them when he gave massages before. He liked the smell of it, that was all.

Malfoy struggled to sit down. He undid his tie, opened every button and started to take it off, really slowly trying not to move too much, wincing everytime he did. He folded his shirt and put it on the chair beside the bed. Harry couldn’t help staring at the huge scars on his chest he knew he was responsible for. Guilt settled on his stomach as he tore his gaze away.

'Lay down on your stomach’ Harry got up and sat beside Malfoy’s body as close as he could without brushing their thighs. It was ridiculous, he knew, since he would be touching him quite soon. Malfoy did as he was told and stilled, realising what that meant.

And what it meant was that, like that, he was completely vulnerable. He turned his face to Potter’s side and searched the other boy’s face for any sign of danger but all he could see was a frown as Harry dripped the oil in his fingers. Draco felt his cheeks heat up for some reason he didn’t understand.

'I’m going to start’ Potter’s voice was low when he spoke. Before Draco could say anything Potter’s hands were on his shoulders, placed at the same distance from the centre of his back. They were warmer than Draco’s skin, soft and sticky with oil. His breath got stuck on his throat  when Potter squeezed and, even though his lower back still hurt, Draco felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He exaled, relaxing into the matress.

Harry maintained the rhythm for a while, squeazing and releasing Malfoy’s shoulders, his thumbs pressing small circles on the other’s neck as he did. Harry, then, started to let his hands go lower, maintaining the pressing of his thumbs as he did until he reached the high of Malfoy’s kidneys. He stopped there to smear his hands with more oil.

'Where did the pain start?’ Harry found his voice was hoarse when he spoke.

'Hm… my hips’ Malfoy sounded sleepy when he spoke. He was so relaxed Harry had to hold back a giggle. He must really be great at giving massage if it meant even Malfoy was enjoying it.

He stopped shortly.

'Your hips?’ Shit, he wasn’t expecting that. 'Er… okay. I’ll- I’ll need you to lower you trousers a bit.  

'What?’ Draco opened his eyes, snapping out of his daze. What did Potter just say?

'So I can reach your hips. I can’t do much with them in the way’ he said slowly, almost like he expected Draco to start yelling at him.

'So you want me to take off my pants?’ Draco couldn’s believe what the fuck was going on.

'No! Just- Just open it, okay? I can do the rest…’ Draco stopped for a second. He reached for his buttons, opened them and laid down again. He turned his face the other way since he was pretty sure he was blushing. Shit, Potter better know what he was doing.

Harry exhaled gradually. He most definitely didn’t know what he was doing. Well, he did, but he shouldn         ’t be doing this. He should’ve stopped, told Malfoy to go look for Pomfrey and got out of there.

Instead he placed his hands on Malfoy’s lower back again. He rubbed his thumbs in circles there, with less pressure this time, and started to press lower as he did. He reached his trousers but since the buttons were open it hang loose on Malfoy’s hips. Harry let his thumbs go under the waist and Malfoy froze.

Harry exhaled again. 'This will probably hurt but if it doesn’t work I’ll know what I have to do, okay?’ He pulled his trousers lower until he could see the other’s boxers. They were black, just like his trousers. Harry could see the fine blond hair that covered his lower back was up.

'Just don’t break my bones’ His tone was sarcastic.

Harry had his weigh on one knee which was pressed against the matress, both hands on Malfoy’s hips.

'Inhale’ Harry instructed. 'Hold’ Malfoy did as he was told.

'Exhale’ he pushed all his weight on his hands as quickly as he could. Malfoy screamed and Harry cursed. They were panting, Malfoy still too shocked to say anything.

'It won’t work, not like this’ Harry got off the bed to take off his shoes. When he looked back Malfoy was staring at him with a strange expression on his face, fear mixed with something else. Was it anticipation?

'This will work’ Harry got on the bed again and before malfoy could say anything he passed one of his legs over the blond’s body, straddling him. Harry sat on Malfoys thighs, trapping him so he couldn’t turn around.

'WHAT THE FUCK, POTTER?’ Malfoy tried to free himself but Harry pinned both Draco’s hands above his head in a strong grip.

'I’m telling you this will work! Stop fidgeting and shut up!’

But focusing on Potter’s words was hard since all he could sense was the warmth and pressure on his thighs, so close to his ass. He’d never felt anything like that before, something disturbingly intimate and his whole body was reacting as if it was. He closed his eyes, cursing inside his head as blood rushed into his cock. Fuck fuck fuck, this wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be…

'Inhale’ Potter’s words resonated closer to his ear than before. He shivered, inhaling as deep as he could. 'You need to relax’ Potter’s voice came out hoarse, his thumbs still tracing circles on his hips. Draco shuddered but felt his shoulders lose tension again.

'Inhale’, Harry repetead. 'Hold’ And Draco did.

Potter shifted on his thighs and Draco almost forgot what he was supposed to do.

'Exhale’ he did it again, placing all his weight in his hands, his thighs pressing hard against Malfoy’s as he did. A loud crack made Harry smile and Draco scream.

And then Malfoy let out a loud moan and Harry lost his train of thought.

Suddenly all the blood in his brain was going down, making his pants too tight. His ears felt like they were full of water when he heard Malfoy hum against the pillow.

'It worked’ Draco breathed, lifting his hips a bit to check if the pain was still there. The motion caused his ass to rub against something hard.

Draco gasped.

Harry moaned low.

Draco’s hips rose up again, higher, rubbing harder against what he knew was Potter and fuck, he didn’t know what he was doing anymore. And then Potter pressed down, literally pressed against Draco’s ass so he could feel it, the whole length even through the fabric. Potter was hard, really hard and Draco felt his own cock twitching at that.

Draco moaned, the sound ringing in Harry’s ears. He should go, he knew he should, but Malfoy was panting, and lifting that roundy ass for him, to rub against him, and Harry saw his face when he turned his head to the side. His cheeks were flushed and lips parted.

Harry pressed again, leaning forward until his mouth was just above Malfoy’s left ear.

'Do you want me to go?’ He needed to be sure, to be certain he wasn’t imagining all that.

Malfoy gasped, his eyes tightly shut. 'No’ He lifted his arm, grabbing Harry’s thigh and craving his nails on it. Harry bit his earlobe, went for his jaw and started sucking there.

Draco’s cock was throbbing beneath him, so hard he was sure he might faint any second.

The next minute the pressure against his ass was gone making a small cry escape his lips. Fuck fuck, Potter must have come to his senses before he did…

His pants were suddenly yanked down to his knees, his boxers with them. The sudden movement ccreating friction against his cock, now leaking on the matress. Draco was sure he couldn’t blush any harder but it didn’t stop him from moaning when hands grabbed his arse cheeks. How come he didn’t know he could get pleasure from there? Potter’s hands were everywhere, squeezing, pinching, scratching the soft skin.

Harry opened his cheeks, exposing his hole and run his thumb there tentatively.

'Ah- ha fuck…’ Draco buried his face in the pillow again. This wasn’t right, this was so fucking wrong, what was he doing moaning for…

'I wanna eat you up’ Harry didn’t mean to let the words escape his lips. His gaze was fixed on Malfoy’s pink hole and when it contracted under his thumb the thought of licking there, fucking him with his tongue, assaulted his mind immediately. Malfoy shivered under him.

'Wh-What are you saying?’ the tips of his ears were even redder from where Harry could see them.

Harry got off of Malfoy’s thighs and pushed them apart. He grabbed Malfoy’s hips again, pulling his ass up a bit. He could see the blond’s cock was hard and swollen, rubbing against the matress. Harry got on his elbows, squeezed Draco’s arse again and bit the already marked skin.

Draco gasped, his head jerking to the side so he could get a glimpse of Potter between his legs. Potter was sucking him at the spot he’d bitten before, his hands massaging the place where his thighs met his ass. He run his fingers there, grabbed his arse cheeks and pulled them apart. Draco drew a sharp breath.

He could hear Harry fidgeting with his own pants followed by the sound of clothes hitting the ground. Draco waved his hand towards the door, a click signalling it was now locked. He couldn’t even begin to think what would happen if anyone decided to come in.

Draco felt something wet, warm and firm press against his hole.

'Fuck fuck, you can’t- ah… ahhhh P-Potter this is…’ he gave a choking moan when Harry began to lick him relentlessly, his own moans reverberating in Draco’s skin.

Harry licked, savoured until his tongue got past the tight ring, and then he was fucking Draco, fucking him with wet and hot thrusts of his tongue. Draco kept pushing  back, gasping as he did, completely out of control.

Harry had never done that before but the sencond he laid eyes on Draco’s ass, naked before him all he could thing about was opening him, filing him up to get all those delicious sounds out of him.

Draco moaned, and moaned, louder each time. The words that came out of his mouth were incoherent, interrupted by sharp intakes of air.

'Yes… This- fuck Potter… I-deep-deeper’

Deeper, he wanted it deeper. Harry grasped the tiny flask he’d left on the ground and smeared his fingers with the oil again. He retreated his tongue earning a whimper from Malfoy that turned into a sob the second Harry’s middle finger replaced his tongue, getting in smoothly. Draco gasped, shivering uncontrollably and Harry just stayed there, mouth hanging open at the view. His finger disappeared and reappeared, Malfoy sucking him in while rutting against the matress. Harry curled his finger experimentally getting Malfoy to jolt and scream, throwing his head back. Harry caressed his thigh marked with purple bruises, another finger going inside his hole. The blond hissed but didn’t tell Harry to stop so he thrusted them to the base.

Draco’s brain was shutting down. The lewd sounds filling the room paired with the smell of cinnamon overstimulating his whole body. He wanted more heat, more pressure, more skin against his but the words kept getting lost in his throat everytime he tried to voice his needs. And Potter, fuck, he knew what to do with his hands, with his mouth. That fucking tongue worked like magic inside him. Potter was moving his fingers inside him in a way Draco didn’t even know was possible, scissoring them, thrusting them to the base.

The fingers were suddenly gone. Draco inhalled sharply but before he could complain Potter grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. He laid there on his back, legs spread open, cock dripping with pre come. And Harry stared him down, took in every inch of his light skin shamelessly. Draco felt exposed even though they were both naked. His hole twitched, stretched and leaking all the oil Potter had rubbed inside him and Potter stared. He fucking stared, jerking himself as he did.

Draco grabbed his own cock and began to do the same. It was unfair, having to do it all by himself after all Potter did, that bastard. The gesture caught the Golden Boys’s attention, though, and Draco smirked.

'i want,’ Harry bent down, their chests flushed against each other, his mouth whispering in Draco’s lips. 'I want to put it in you’ he sucked Draco’s lower lip. Holy fuck, he was on the edge already. Potter moved his lips to Draco’s ear and shifted, the head of his cock now poking Draco’s entrance. Draco felt it tingle as Potter cast a protective spell. 'I want to fill you up’ he whispered against his ear.

'Fuck, fuck…’

'Has anyone ever done that?’ he nuzzled Draco’s temple, his glans rubbing against his hole. 'I’m going to take you’ Harry hold his cock steadily as he pushed an inch, stretching Malfoy for him. The blond was panting on his cheek, small sobs inbetween gasps for air.

Harry’s ability to dirty talk, even as his own mind wasn’t working properly was something he didn’t know he could do. He was blushing, panting, but the possessivness he felt made him talk. Malfoy was his, all his, he just never thought that that anger, the rush of adrenaline he felt every time they were close could be hiding something else. He always thought Malfoy was his to take down, to fight against. But he also was his to consume, to bury himself into.

Harry thrust slowly, taking in the tightness, the heat engulfing him. Malfoy was fisting his cock under him, eyes tightly shut and mouth hanging open. Harry stopped Malfoy’s hand with his own and, with a tight grip, trapped them both above his head. Malfoy opened his eyes, his grey irisis thin rings around blown pupils.

'Touch my cock’ he whispered against Harry’s lips, more a command than a pleading. Harry smashed their mouths together instead, refusing to let go of his grip. Draco shivered under him, opened his mouth, let Potter invade his mouth with that tongue. Fuck, that tongue that’d fucked him just minutes ago. And Harry kissed him, his cock deep buried to the hilt inside him. He was full, so fucking full he felt his whole body collapse when Potter started to pull back.

He thrust again, the friction, the pressure, sending shocks of pleasure to Draco’s cock, up his spine, everywhere. Through half opened eyes Draco saw Harry gazing at him, his glasses gone, his lips red, parted as puffs of air escaped them. Harry thrust hard when he realized Draco was staring back. His complex changed immediately.

'I-yes fuck ahh-ah…’ Draco’s whole body was trembling, his ass thrusting back against Harry’s cock, trying to get him to go deeper.

Harry released Draco’s hands, grabbed his thighs instead and lifted them, shoving in until his fingers were numb from the tight grip. He’d leave marks there, crimson lines, and the thought made him moan. Harry bent down again, his mouth reaching Draco’s neck. He sucked him there while he fucked hard and fast. Draco fisted his cock with one hand while the other scratched Harry’s back repeatedly.

His moans were louder now, loud enough Harry was sure people could hear them from outside the dorm. Draco didn’t seem to care, or even realize he was making those sounds.

The next moment Draco was contracting around him, trembling violently and coming on their stomachs. The pressure was enough to send Harry over the edge, his thrusts erratic as he came deep inside Draco.

Draco moaned again when he felt something hot filling him up, Harry’s last thrusts too much to handle.

Harry flopped beside him, his limbs drained of strengh.

'Merlin’ he whispered to himself.

'Yeah’

'That was…’

'Yeah’

They didn’t speak for the next couple of minutes. When Harry got up to leave, though, Draco reached for his arm.

'You could… we- uh… we could…’

Harry kissed him softly, almost clumsily before speaking 'Yeah, I- I’d like that’

***

Draco sat down that evening with Pansy and Blaise at their common room to warm themselves in front of the fire. He couldn’t help wincing a bit when he did.

'What’s wrong? I thought Potter had fixed you back’

Draco felt his face flushing immediately.

'He did! I just…’

'I’m sure he did. Just remember to go somewhere else with thicker walls next time you call him to fix your back’ Blaise didn’t even care to lift his eyes from the book he had in hands.

His cheeks were in flames and the expression on Pansy’s face wasn’t helping.

‘You owe me two favours now!’ She smirked, leaning against the couch like she’d won a bet.

‘What- Why two?’ Draco shifted and winced again at the new burning ache.

‘Because,’ She stuck up a finger like she needed to count all the favours Draco owned her. ‘I found someone to fix your back’ She lifted another finger. ‘And,’

Right that second Potter walked through the portrait followed by Granger and Weasley. He spotted Draco immediately and, well wasn’t that great, strode towards him, leaving Weasley with a confused look and Granger with a knowing one. He glanced at Pancy and saw her waving at the Gryffindor girl. Fucking amazing.

‘Hey,’ Potter stood awkwardly there before sitting on the arm of Draco’s chair. Draco knew his cheeks were already flushed but when Potter bent down and whispered in his ear he was sure he probably looked like a tomatoe. ‘Fancy a game of Wizard’s chess later?’

Pansy was shaking trying to keep herself from bursting out laughing.

‘Your dorm?’ Draco found himself playing with the hem of Potter’s hoody. The bastard blushed at Draco’s words, but nodded with a smile on his face.

He’d barely turned his back when Draco heard Pansy’s voice loud and clear.

‘And, I got you a cute boyfriend. Two favours!’

***

Ao3 

Fell for You  (Draco x Reader)

“can i have a draco x reader where the reader gets sick or passes out during class?? like really fluffy thanks!!!” thank you so much for your request! hope you like it!

Ever since Slughorn took over as the new Potions professor, class has been nothing short of interesting. The first couple of lessons were challenging since no one really knew what Slughorn was really like, would he be as strict as Snape or are caring as Lupin had been? You all soon found out that he was the definition of frazzled, not all quite there, but overall he meant well. And of course, just like Snape, he had his favorites, meaning Harry Potter. That didn’t sit well with most of the Slytherins in the class, but you tried to ignore their nasty remarks towards your friend but sometimes their teasing was too much and as a fellow Gryffindor you had to defend both your friends and your house. But today you weren’t feeling much of the fighting spirit in you, you had a terrible headache and wanted nothing more than to be curled up in bed but alas you trudge your way to class.

You slowly made your way to your seat, but you noticed that Lavander Brown had taken your usual seat since you were late. Probably so she could stare at Ron…The only available seat was next to Draco so you begrudgingly made your way there as Harry and Hermione sent you a sad smile knowing that you were in no mood to put up with the Slytherin Prince.

You weren’t feeling well and it didn’t help that everyone was being extremely chatty today,

“Settle down! Settle down! Ms. Brown, please stop making googly eyes at Mr. Weasley…As I was saying, today we will be making a very challenging potion, the draught of peace! So, let’s get to it!” Slughorn announced, and with that everyone stood up and headed towards the back to grab what they needed. You weren’t surprised to see that everyone pretty much grabbed all of the moonstone powder so you had to wait for someone to be done with theirs so you could start.

But it looked like everyone was taking their sweet time getting set up and actually starting the potion.

“I’m almost done adding the powder, you can have it after it.” Draco said to you once you sat down. Were you hallucinating or was Draco Malfoy actually being nice to you? You and Draco never really talked, except for the cordial ‘hello,’ from time to time.

You simply nodded as you tied your hair back, most of the class had ignited their cauldrons and the heat was starting to get to you.

You both worked in silence and had a system of sharing going on, you had the ingredients needed for the second half of the potion and Draco had the beginning ones, so you would switch when you needed to.

“Stir until the potion turns orange, and then add more porcupine quills until the potion turns turquoise.” You read out loud for what seemed to be the third time, the heat in the room was becoming unbearable and you were having a hard time focusing.

“Are you alright Y/L/N?” Draco asked you after the fourth time.

“Um, yeah, never been better,” you said trying to sound convincing.  He simply nodded and went back to his own potion but he wasn’t the only one showing concern for you, Hermione kept shooting you worried looks. After a few more minutes she poured some of her potion into a vial for grading and then made her way towards you, she was expecting a nasty remark from Draco but he simply looked up and nodded towards you, his brow furrowed in concerned.

“Hey, I just finished mine, do you need any help, Y/N?” she asked as she came to stand next to you.

“Hi ‘Mione, and no that’s okay, I’m nearly finished, I just need to get add some more powdered porcupine quills and I’ll be done.” Unbeknownst to you, Draco was listening intently to your conversation. He noticed how quiet you were during breakfast in the Great Hall and how you were late to most of your shared classes. He has a soft spot for you, most of the Slytherins didn’t mess with you in fear of receiving backlash from Draco. Ever since class started her noticed how flushed you were. He was thankful Hermione came over to you because he knew you didn’t really trust him.

He was done with his own potion, and Hermione was helping you out until Ron stole her away because he needed help putting out the fire he created.

“Almost done?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just need to, to…to get a vial and bottle it up.” You said softly, becoming more and more dizzy with every word you spoke.

“Hey, are you okay?” He said looking alarmed by how pale you had turned all of the sudden.

“I’m fi-” Your world turned black before you could answer back.

You were definitely not fine.

You woke up a few hours later with a pounding headache, you slowly opened your eyes, but promptly closed them because of the bright lights of the infirmary. After a few minutes you tried once again with much more success and tried to sit up but felt the room spin out of control once again.

“Woah, take it easy there.” A voice said next to you, soon enough your eyes met the worry ones of none other than Draco Malfoy’s.

“Draco?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well after you decided to test out if gravity, Potter and I brought you to Madame Pomfrey.” He said as he softly pushed you back into the plush pillows.

“Where’s Harry?” you asked, not seeing the mess of curls anywhere. Draco’s eyes flickered with something that you’ve never seen before. It wasn’t the usual flicker of annoyance.

“Sorry, your little boyfriend had to go to Quidditch practice. He said he would come by later.” Draco said curtly.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You said with the same curt tone but before he could say something else you cut him off.

“Wait, don’t you have practice as well? Don’t Slytherins usually practice at the same time and place to piss off our team?”

“Well I skipped today.”

“The Slytherin seeker skipping out on practice? I certainly feel honored, your team must really hate me right now.”

“Yeah, I would definitely watch out for them if I were you.” He chuckled.

“Did you really skipped practice for me?”

“Well, I had to make sure you were okay, I’m not as bad as Potter and Weaslbee make me out to be.” He said, his cheeks turning a soft pink as he rubbed his neck nervously.

“Thank you, Draco.” You said grabbing his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” that was the first time he called you by your first name.

“So, I was thinking, if you’re done testing out gravity, would you like to go with me on the next Hogsmeade trip?”

“Draco Malfoy, are you asking me out on a date?” you said, unable to fight off the smile spreading across your face.

“That depends, if you say yes then yeah I am.” he said, trying to fight off the nerves with his usual debonair.

“It’s a date.” You answered smiling softly, Draco smiled rivaled your own. You were certainly glad that you literally fell for him today.

Close

A/N: Let me know if you like this one! It’s my first little piece of writing and I would really appreciate the feedback! 


The mattress squeaks under duress as you land with a loud thud. You don’t know how you managed to find a room without barging into horny youngsters trying to savour every inch of each other. Thankfully you didn’t, and you were gracious for the moment of peace the silence gave you (even if the bass was slightly pouring through the closed door). It wasn’t normal for you to be drinking so much; you usually were the one taking care of Harry when he had a bit too much to drink. Dealing with drunk Harry was like dealing with an over affectionate boyfriend. There’s lots of sweaty kisses on your cheek, and the occasional “really do love yeh, pet, ever since we met” followed by you stuffing his mouth with bread to ignore the slight swirl you’d feel from his words. And regardless of the amount of alcohol he drank, Harry would practically beg for a cuddle with you. He’d claim it’s because your five foot build fits so perfectly with his, but he knows he wouldn’t get a chance if he was sober, so he uses his slightly intoxicated state to breathe words he’d never say and actions he’d never do.  

“And where is Harry now?” a little voice murmured.

 A tiny jab of irrational jealousy poured through you as you were reminded of his arms wrapped around another girl, who, in your opinion,  had a little less clothing on than most. You watched them together - his eyes taking in her body, reaching forward to whisper something she’d inevitably giggle at. You’d see the way she’d looked at him, like he was some God, born with the body and charisma that would make any girl swoon. You couldn’t blame them of course, his mixture of cocky and confident drew people to him. For you, it was his adorable sense of humour and his pursuit to bring happiness to anyone he cared for. And that allowed you two to become friends. Good friends. Close friends.  Right?

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04.07.17

A little something sweet for all of us while we wait for the big reveal. xo


When you woke up, the other side of the bed was empty.

Your eyes peeled open in a groggy fashion, and you lifted a fist to rub at your eye as you sat up in bed and looked over at the space where your boyfriend usually is. The two of you had fallen asleep comfortably, whispering sweet nothings to each other as your arms wrapped themselves around his broad frame and your nose nuzzled against the back of his neck. You had been absolutely exhausted since the day before, which is probably why you didn’t wake up when he stirred.

Once you woke up enough to think coherently, you immediately knew where he was.

You slipped on your bedrobe and pattered out into the living room, your hair in a messy bun and eyes still puffy from sleep. You were still a bit tired, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep without your boyfriend and you wanted to make sure that he was okay.

Tomorrow was going to be a big day.

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2

A/N: I had planned his for a while and now it just seems perfect for Valentine’s Day. Enjoy!

Words: 1419
Warnings: mild smut (like, really mild but what do you expect, it’s Newt, he’s a cute and innocent puppy)

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anonymous asked:

I NEED a BLURB ABOUT HOLDING HARRY BC HE is sad about his performance and you comfort him pleaseeee

Here you go, have some fluff :)


Saturday Night

He was nervous.

He didn’t want me or anyone else to know he was, but I could tell. And who wouldn’t be? It was his first performance in over a year, and his first ever as a solo artist. I would have been nothing but a ball of nerves if it were me. He’d paced back and forth in the green room, spreading his fingers out as far as they would go, bringing them back into a fist over and over again, repeating the cycle each time he’d make it to the other end of the room and turn around on his heels.

I’d sat quietly on the sofa, nibbling on the display of fruit and crackers that sat in the middle of the coffee table. I was nervous too, but I said nothing unless it was to reply to a question, giving him the most space I possibly could. I’d asked him earlier if he would rather I took a seat in the audience, but he assured me he wanted me backstage, waiting for his return. Though he never expressed why exactly, I took it to mean he wanted me to be there for him, for him to see my face and perhaps share an embrace after he’d walked off stage, and I took comfort in that.

I’d watched his first performance on the monitor in the green room, sitting on the edge of my seat, my hands tucked underneath my thighs as I bit my bottom lip. By the end of the song, I’d felt my eyes well up, quickly wiping them away with the back of my hand before he saw. I could tell as soon as he walked in that he was less than pleased with himself. He’d missed a couple of notes, his voice raspier than usual from all the practicing, and once he’d even had to drop a word at the end of the phrase due to lack of air. I knew he had to be mentally scolding himself. But I’d thought it was flawless. He’d done it. He was Harry Styles, rockstar.

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You love me, right?

A/N: Maybe not exactly what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy. 

“Don’t touch me!” you giggled. But Harry didn’t listen as he continued to reach for you, narrowly avoiding the bicycle kicks you were sending his way.


“Oh, come off it, m’hands aren’t that cold,” he said with an eye roll as he finally got you to settle beneath him. His hands rested on your sides, and while your flesh was protected from his chilly fingers by the thick fabric of your sweater, you could feel the coldness hovering above.


“They are freezing, Harry.” You looked around best you could with Harry keeping you still, trying to find some way to escape. But you were trapped in the middle of the bed like a raft out to sea with no sight of shore.


“Fine, fine. Won’t touch you.” His shoulders slumped in dejection, bottom lip protruding pathetically. You looked for signs of movement; you’d been in this relationship long enough to know Harry never gave up without a fight. “But yeh know, love, cold hands mean ‘ve got a warm heart.”


Your eyebrows raised, mouth in a hard line. “That is the biggest load—”


The words hardly left your mouth before Harry’s hands infiltrated your warm sweater. He roamed the expanse of your warm body, squeezing and tickling all the spots that made you squeal. Maybe it wasn’t his cold hands, but the sound of your laugh echoing throughout his bedroom did make Harry swell with warmth.


“Harry…Harry, please,” you pleaded through heavy breaths, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. “My tummy hurts…think you’ve given me a cramp.”

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20+ Jealous Louis Fics:

In a twisted turn of events, Louis finds himself posing as the brother of his fiancé, Harry, for an annual company retreat.

Did he sign up for this? No.

Is he doing it anyway? Yes.

Can they actually pull this off? Probably not.

Louis isn’t someone who Harry thought he could ever be with, and Louis never thought he’d break his rules for anyone.

Sometimes being wrong isn’t so bad after all.

AU. In which Louis is a solicitor at one of London’s most prestigious law firms and Harry happens to apply for the position as his trainee. And everyone else is around, too.

AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.

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Moving on After Fred Weasley Passes Away - Headcanon/Would Include

Warnings: This broke my heart to write):


  • You wouldn’t cry much towards the beginning. Of course when the news hit a barricade of tears fell freely but after that, you learned how to bottle it all up. Everything was so unreal you weren’t even sure if it what was real anymore.
  • Fred was your best friend, your other half, the love of your life.
  • After the Battle of Hogwarts you’d travel back to the Burrow with the Weasley’s.
  • He was buried shortly after the Battle. His casket was a sleek black color and shined in the rain that fell. You placed a flower on the top of his casket and choked on a shaky sob. George stood behind you and his hand found it’s way into yours, giving you a squeeze of reassurance as he cried with you. You had never felt more lost in your life. Your fingers twiddled with the diamond band wrapped around your finger. It felt more like a piece of mockery, there to remind you everyday of what you could now never have.
  • Molly spent an entire week in the twins’ bedroom. She didn’t talk, hardly ate, just stared blankly at the wall next to Fred’s bed. He had pictures of his Hogwarts adventures taped to the wall and she had memorized every prospect of the photos so much she couldn’t rid the image from her brain when she closed her eyes, but she didn’t want to forget.
  • At the end of the week George entered his and Fred’s bedroom for the first time since the Battle. He spent an hour talking to his mother. You never did find out what he said, but you remember the burning visual of Molly exiting the room with reddened eyes full of heartbreak.
  • Ginny spent the nights sleeping in her room with you and cuddled against your chest, silently weeping to herself. Your presence made her feel close to her late brother, like he had never actually left.
  • George, Molly, and you would clean out Fred’s half of the room. It was full of tears and once happy now sad memories. Like the large maroon tie blanket you had made for Fred on your anniversary. Or the book on Magical Creatures that Fred had stolen on accident in Diagon Alley while he spied on you from behind a bookcase. You were shopping for all your school supplies and the redhead had torn from his family, catching glimpse of you in the robes shop and managed to follow you two stores later not wanting to leave you. You eventually caught him as he tripped over a pile of books, the binds of knowledge cascading to the floor with a crash. You smiled and helped him up while introducing yourself. The rest was history.
  • Arthur stood in the doorway of the room watching the three of you clean. Deep aging wrinkles indented his forehead making him appear older than he really was. His face was long, drowning in sorrow. He didn’t say a word, just watched.
  • Ginny cried alone in her room. Harry tried to comfort her but his success was no avail. She locked herself away for three days, lost in a sea of depression.
  • Ron turned to Harry and Hermione who welcomed him with open arms. He was the first to open up after his older brother’s death.
  • You stayed at the Burrow for a almost three weeks before flying to France. You choice was rash but you needed to get away. Molly understood and wished you well. You didn’t know how long you would be gone but you hoped it would give you some time to come to terms with the heartbreak you were experiencing.
  • Fred used to tell you when you were in school together that he always dreamed of going to France. He never knew why. He was rubbish at speaking French and had no idea how he’d survive, but it was a dream of his.
  • Percy, Bill, and Charlie all stayed at the Burrow for a month or so. Their hearts ached at the lose of their younger brother.
  • George… George no longer felt like himself. It was as if a part of himself was missing, torn from his soul. He dragged through the day’s, closing down the shop for a while. After spending two weeks at the Burrow he moved back to the apartment above Weasley Wizard Wheezes that Fred and him shared. The second he walked through the door he broke down. Tears splashed against his cheeks as he finally let all his emotions pour out. He called you, practically begging you to keep him company.
  • Of course you obliged and flew back home immediately. You lived with Fred in the apartment too. It was your home as well and you had been putting off going back to the apartment as much as possible. The home held so many items from your past involving Fred and you. Where he proposed to you, where you had you first blow up fight, where you had you first time together, where you had the million of talks about your future together, and so much more.  
  • This made Molly feel a little better when she heard you would be staying with George for a while. She hated the thought of George being all along right after losing his best friend, his twin, his other half.
  • You left France still clutching a box full of Fred’s belonging. A heavy feeling invaded your heart. You took a train to London after landing then joined George at the shop.
  • The minute the door swung open George’s arms were thrown around your frame as he pulled you into a tight embrace. The barrier you had been working so hard to uphold, crumbled at his touch. Not because you felt you could finally let go of all the emotions being kept inside. No, you cried because George’s embrace reminded you of Fred’s. The way his hold tighten as you sobbed mirrored Fred’s actions identically. Your chest ached as you came to realize you future with Fred was gone. George’s salty tears splashed on the crown of your head.
  • The first week barely any words at all were exchanged. You would mumble a small ‘good morning’ to each other during breakfast but that was usually it.
  • George spent the days in his room and the nights at a bar across the street. This continued on for a week until you confronted him. You waited up all night, worried sick. He stumbled in around three in the morning, eyes brimming red, breath stenching strong from alcohol.
  • “George Weasley, what the hell?” You would screeched. His eyes snapped up at you resembling a deer caught in headlights. His gazed quickly fell to the floor as he shut the house door and brushed past you. You yelled after him making him halt in his path,
  • “George pease just talk to me! I know this is hard for you, believe me I do. He was your brother. You two have never been apart so I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. George I’m here for you and you can talk to me because I lost him too. You did everything with Fred, you two started this business together and we both know he just wants you to be happy again. Please… just try, George. Try for me, try for Fred. Please. I just want to be here for you. If there’s something I did. If you hate me-” Your voice broke at the end and your knees gave up. Crashing to the floor a echoing cry invaded the air. George stood motionless watching you fall apart before his eyes. He could almost hear Fred scolding him and urging him to act. Fred would want George to comfort you, Fred would want you two to be there for each other.
  • George hesitantly crossed the room and bent to your level. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of messy hair from your face. Glancing up at him you started in to question him but George beat you around the bush. He seemed half sobered up and shook his head.
  • “Y/n… it’s not you, I swear. You’re the most purest human being in the entirety of the world, please don’t think that way. Every moment you and Fred were together I could never shake that from my mind, how perfect you are. But god Y/n every time I see you I think of my brother. He loved you more than anything in this world and I know he would hate me right now for not being there for you. I feel like I’ve let him down and that hurts more than anything. I see Fred everytime I look in the mirror, everytime I see the pictures on the fridge, everytime I walk into the shop, everytime I come home and everytime I see you.”
  • His words took you by storm but for once, it made sense. You had been sleeping in Fred and your bed, helping start the shop back up (mainly by yourself), and it probably didn’t help that you had been stealing items of Fred’s clothing, just wanting to be close to him again. For the first time since the Battle, you admitted the burden you’d been holding inside.
  • “I wish I could’ve saved him. If I wasn’t distracted by the helping that student- if I would have been paying more attention to Fred… he’d still be here.” You quivered. George’s eye soften and he shook his head.
  • “Y/n you know no one could’ve stopped what happen. I’ve spent every night laying awake wondering if I could’ve changed something. I’m not sure what god planned this, or if there even is one, but Y/n we had no control over this.” His arms locked around you pulling you against his chest. His lips planted against your forehead sweetly covering you in a blanket of comfort.
  • You spent the rest of the night in George’s arm. You shared memories of Fred, some sweet, some funny, and some that made you cry again.
  • “Remember the time the two of you enchanted endless snowballs to pelt, well technically, Voldemort in the face and Quill in the back of the head?” You giggled into the glass of cherry red wine you held to your lips. George leaned into the cushion of the couch and shook his head with a smile. 
  • “Classic!”
  • George spent the night in Fred and your bed- to keep you company of course.
  • He kept you company for the rest of the nights to follow
  • The two of you began to drift into a weird zone
  • You had always lightly fancied George but it was Fred you loved.
  • He would randomly start bringing you home flowers and other small gifts
  • Some days George would come home to find a bundled up new sweater placed on his work desk. You always claimed the things you bought him were on sale so you just couldn’t resist but George knew better
  • A strong connection was growing and it confused you- George too. You wanted another shot at happiness but you weren’t sure if you were ready yet until another vacant Friday night rolled around and you found yourself laying on the couch in George’s arm talking about the week and before you knew it he was leaning forward.
  • The first time you kissed George you screwed your eyes shut tightly and imagined his lips as Fred’s. You knew it was horrible but you had no clue what else to do. It was like you were cheating on your fiance- your dead fiance, with his twin brother. But when you realized it was George, you didn’t entirely hate it. It was actually quite a fulfilling kiss. A part from inside of you warmed up for the first time in a long time.
  • George had a sickening vibe settling in the pit of his stomach after he pulled back. His heart sped up at the newfound affection the kiss brought although kissing you made him feel like he was betraying his brother. Fred planned to marry you for Merlin’s sake and there George was, making out with his dead twin’s girlfriend.
  • But you kissed him again the next day and he didn’t pull away
  • And the next
  • And the one after that too
  • Kissing you made George think of his brother. Fred loved you and George could understand why. Kissing you, sleeping beside you, comforting you, it all made George feel as if he was somehow growing closer to his twin.
  • At first your relationship with George was based solely on the fact that he was identical to your late lover but as time passed on George made you feel differently than Fred did. Despite you never thinking it was possible, George taught you how to laugh again. He would slowly crack back into his prankster self again. It took his almost a full year after Fred’s passing to invent a new product for the shop or even enter the store for more than passing to get to the apartment. He tested out the product on you during breakfast one morning. Pouring a lilac solution into the base of your black coffee and giving it a swirl, George carried on with breakfast as if nothing had happen. Dragging in, you hugged George from behind before taking a seat at the nook. You instantly sipped on the brewed mixture in front of you and spit it out in shock as the odd flavor set in.
  • George howled in laughed and bent over the kitchen stove pointing towards you. Furrowing your eyebrows you set the mug down and spoke up agitated,
  • “George what the hell did you put in- oh my god!”
  • You realized the change in tone quickly and covered your face in embarrassment. Your voice was as deep as a well making you sound similar to that of a male that had spent over half his life heavily smoking. George rushed over and planted a kiss to your cheek.
  • “It worked!” Although you were thoroughly ticked off at his choice of targeting you, you were happy he was back to his old ways. The bills were piling up by the second and the landlord wanted the shop either back up and running, or both of you to move out. Dumping your infected cup of coffee down the sink drain you started to make a new batch. Smiling to yourself you laughed softly,
  • “Well, I’m glad to have you back, George.”
  • That was only the beginning. George and you spent almost every moment inventing and creating new sale items. The first handful were absolute rubbish but it didn’t matter. Both of you were trying to get back in the swing of things and sometimes that took a while.
  • Within three months Weasley Wizard Wheezes was back up and running again.
  • Sales flooded in and shot straight through the roof steadily for a long term.
  • As a ‘thank you’ present for helping him get back on his feet George invited you out for a fancy meal out on the town.
  • You decided on a Muggle restaurant and dressed to the nines. George’s jaw skimmed the floor when you walked out of your room and slipped on your heels. He held your hand and escorted you out.
  • During dinner you had ntoiced how fidgety and nervous George was acting. You made the choice to question him on it over a glass of champagne right before the main course and he physically stiffened. Tilting his glass back, George chugged down the large intake and wiped his lips on the red amber napkin. His hands clasped together then unclasped at his side. His soft eyes found yours and he darted them back down to the tablecloth.
  • “It’s just- well, Y/n… what are we?”
  • It would get silent very fast and he would instantly fill it.
  • “What I mean is, I like you… I like you a lot but I know how you felt about my brother. I saw the glint in your eyes that would sparkle whenever you saw him and how happy you two were together and Y/n I want to be able to make you as happy as Fred did. With that being said I don’t want you to be with me because I remind you of him or because you can’t stop thinking about Fred. I’m not gonna lie at the start of our, uh, relationship I was hanging out with you because you made me think of Fred but all those late nights and million cups of coffee have made me realize the truth. I love you Y/n- and not because you dated my brother. I love you for you and I think I have for a very long time. What I’m asking is… Y/n would you um, like to be my girlfriend?”
  • You cried, a lot. George’s heart broke at the sight only confirming the love swelling in his heart. His feelings were genuine and it warmed your soul. You lunged across the table knocking over the bread bowl in the process and threw your arms around George’s frame.
  • “Of course I will! Oh my god, George. You’re making me cry like a bloody fool!”
  • George called his mother the second you got home. Molly was hit with a wave of shock at first. She gave both of you long speeches trying to inspect if the love was real or a mask to feign the hurt of bonding over the lose of Fred. She demanded both of you come home to the Burrow for the week so you did and the moment she looked into both of your eyes, it was clear as crystal.
  • “Good lord you are in love!”
  • It was hard for the rest of the Weasley family to accept at first. You understood completely since you had the same weary, unsure feeling as well but eventually they came to accept it. They were all happy to you and George happy once again.
  • But as happy as you were, small memories with Fred would constantly pop up.
  • Like one night when George and you were lying in bed together whispering softly realization would settle in and you’d comment,
  • “This is where he proposed. We were lying right here when Fred asked me to marry him.”
  • You knew how horrid it was to put this on George but you had no control. George thought about this all the time and was reminded of your relationship with his brother at every corner he turned.
  • You would then apologize feeling god awful for saying such a thing but George would hush you saying,
  • “It’s alright Y/n. Just because he’s not around anymore and because we’re together now doesn’t mean we have to pretend he was never alive or your relationship with him didn’t exist. He loved you, and I know how much you love him. I’m not upset- actually I’m more than thankful my brother managed to snag a girl like you. You two were perfect together and he will always love you just like how you will always love him. Fred… he is… was my brother and for a long time I thought he would hate me for me being with you and for a long time I thought my heart tricked me into loving you. That maybe it wasn’t love I was feeling but rather so the relationship my brother and I had and maybe because he loved you so much, being with you would make me feel less lonely about losing him but I know the truth. I love you, Y/n. Hell, maybe I always have but the important thing is I love you now and I will love you tomorrow and I will continue to love you years from now and that’s not because of Fred, it’s because of you and who you are. I love you.”
  • You two learned how to live your life no longer feeling guilty for the love you shared. Fred smiled down his heart warming at seeing his two favorite people in the world relying on each other and sharing a piece of their heart together.
  • He proposed to you in the middle of a busy work day right as you were restocking a shelf. The rest of his family were there to see. Molly, Hermione and Ginny cried a river while the boys patted George on the back. On your wedding day the tears were never ending, though happy ones.
  • You two eventually moved to London- kept the shop but decided you needed more room, well of course your growing stomach demanded that. One cold night in the middle of December George and you were blessed with the birth of your first son, Fred ll. He had a head of wicked red hair and a small mischievous smile toying on his face and you had never felt more complete in your life. George planted a kiss to your head muttering a string of ‘thank yous’. You knew in your heart this was exactly where you were meant to be.

- Daizy xx

Only If

REQUEST : Write something where y/n had done something bad to harry and thats why H suddenly became cold to her and he makes it hard to earn his trust back but then y/n got into an accident? - Anon

Keep reading

I Want It Fast, I Want It Loud, I Want It My Way

a/n: THIS PICTURE FUCK. i’ve rode many of things in my lifetime. ;-) just not a thigh, so this might not be accurate but heyyyyyyyyy it’s fine. and if we’re gonna be honest here, how many of y'all actually even rode a dick? let alone a thigh hahaha.  love y'all :-) (smut warning obviously) 


I’m tired. I can feel the familiar ache in my body. I want nothing more than to go home and sleep for hours on end with no interruption. “C'mon, love, lets go.” I whine into Harry’s ear. His arm that is wrapped around my hip tightens, “okay, hold on.” He absentmindedly replies. I huff out. I don’t want to hold on. What the hell am I supposed to hold on to anyways? I notice a chair on the other side of the room and I instinctively follow to it. 

 When I am seated, I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes. “Alright, up you get. It’s time to go, yeah?” Harry awakes me from my quick nap, a whine slips from my lips as I’m placed on my feet. “No.” Harry chuckles lowly as he bends down and urges me to get on my back. A sleepy smile etches on my face as I climb onto him. He stands up with ease. My head falls onto his shoulder as I fall asleep with Harry’s scent lingering around me. 

 * 

 It’s hot. I can feel sweat seeping through my shirt. 

My eyes open and adjust to the darkness. The clock reads three-thirty A.M., I can hear Harry’s breathing next to me. It’s relaxing. His arms are pulled under his pillow as he lies his head on it, curly hair flopping over. His mouth is slightly ajar, and I can’t help but look at his lips. They are such a nice shape, they’re so pink and full. The shirt I have on is soaked through with sweat as I peel it off my scorching body. The cool air soothes my skin and I sigh with relief. 

With my head back onto my pillow, I continue to stare at sleeping Harry. How can one human have so much beauty to them? Not just his looks either, he has a beautiful soul as well. My eyes skim back to his lips. God, his lips. If only they were kissing me right now. Down my neck, onto my collar bone. Biting and nipping, leaving a hickey in its place. 

 I play with the idea of waking him up just to do that, but he needs his sleep. When I make up my mind to be a good girlfriend, I groan and roll over. I hate that I’m a good person sometimes. My head is still spinning with the thought of Harry kissing me all over as I close my eyes and try to sleep. Minutes pass before I huff out and grab my phone. 

Looks like I’m not going to be sleeping tonight. One perk of having a famous boyfriend is that I can look up smut about him and totally try it the next time we have sex. And that’s what I do. I head over to my Tumblr app and type in “Harry Styles smut”. The first thing that pops up is an ask. The ask reads “OKAY but imagine riding harry’s thigh i Am HURT. You would grind down on him and it would hit your clit just right and his hands would leave marks on your hips and he could feel you soaking through his jeans, and he just gets off to you getting off FUCK”. 

 Okay what in the hell is thigh riding and why am I so wet now? My mind starts racing after smut with thigh riding involved. I’ve never heard of thigh riding, but I’m already liking it. I stay up a few more minutes, maybe hours, who really knows? Looking at smut that includes thigh riding. I’m aching for the feeling of it right now. My internal conflict is raging inside me and I think I have to wake Harry. The sleeping boy next to me looks so peaceful. How could I wake him up just to ride his thigh? I can feel myself pulsing for this feeling. “Fuck.” I groan out, I can’t wait any longer. My hand starts to shake his sleeping body, “Harry.” All he does is let out a soft groan. This is going to be harder than I thought. With a swift pull from the covers, both of our bodies are uncovered. 

Harry is naked from his hips up and he looks fucking great. The tattoos sprawled across his toned body never looked so appealing in my life. I want to run my tongue over everyone of them. Black  shorts that were around my hips fall off with a swift motion from my arms, my underwear following. Fire is in my veins. Harry visibly shutters from the loss of the covers but I climb on top of him to bring him warmth.

 "Y/N?“ He mutters, his voice raspier and deeper from sleep. Fuck, I’m literally dripping for this green eyed man. “Baby, I want to try something..” I say while unleashing kisses to his jaw and neck. “At-” He stops to check the time, “5:47 in the morning?” Huh, guess I was looking at smut longer than I thought. “Yes baby, please, I’m literally dripping for you. Plus, you have to get up an hour anyways for work.” I moan out, I can already feel his erection through his pajama pants. “Well if you insist.” He smirks. “What did you want to try?” He sits up holding me in his lap. My legs are by each of his hips and his large hands are roaming my back, hips, and thighs. “Well it’s kinda weird, but I really want to try it.” I tug my lip into my teeth, nervously awaiting his response. “Yeah? What’s it then love?” “Well- I- just- let me show you. Take off your pants.” I instruct with a shaky voice, he obliges as he lifts me off his lap. He is left in his tight boxer briefs. 

I manage to mount back onto his lap, positioning myself over his left thigh. “What’re you doing babe?” Harry asks me with puzzlement in his eyes. “Just..” I moan out as I begin to move hips on his lap. The contact of my clit to his thin boxers form incoherent moans. Harry’s hands move to my hips, gripping them. “Oh so you like thigh riding, huh?” Harry’s voice is like gravel on a road sending me to move faster as his hands insinuate rapid movements. My head nods feverishly as he moves me faster. I feel his lips attach to my breasts, sucking lightly. 

Curls are in my hands as I rock back and forth in his thigh. Cotton boxers against my clit work expertly together with the collaboration of my movements and Harry’s lips. Pleasure is racing through me leaving a beating heart and restless moans. Thoughts are construed in my mind as I try to piece together all the overwhelming things that are enveloping around me. Fuck, I’m so close. “Harry…” I moan out and he gets the hint. His inked hands grip my love handles tighter and my moves pick up pace as we move with the rhythm of an imaginary tempo. “Come for me.” Harry barely whispers in my ear as he adds a nibble to my ear lobe and before I can stop myself, I am sent over the top. An orgasm rattles through me with blacked out vision and shaking hands. Spearmint surrounds me as my head collapses into Harry'a shoulder. “I didn’t know you were into that.” Harry’s voice flows out to me and I laugh, “Yeah I didn’t either.” The clock now reads six-fifteen. 

Before Harry can react, I roll off of him and fall into my spot on our bed. The covers are pulled up over me, I hum in response. “Get some sleep, my angel.” Are words I hear before I drift off.

We need to talk about something.

And that something is the way Harry would behave when you get home from the gym.

You get back, absolutely exhausted from a hard workout, your gym clothes cool and damp with sweat, sticking to your skin. And Harry’s in the kitchen cooking some “protein” noodles or maybe they’re zoodles or squoodles, and for whatever reason he’s only got a pair of tight joggers on, his chest completely exposed to the boiling pot.

“Don’t burn yourself,” you sigh, remembering the last time he cooked nearly naked and little grease spatter burns were across his belly for at least a week. You kick off your shoes, bending to remove the sweat-soaked socks from your feet. A sharp hiss escapes you as you feel the burn in your thighs.

“S’the matter?” he asks, turning the stove top off and removing the pot before crossing over to you.

“My thighs burn,” you mutter, slowly easing yourself up. Harry’s closer now, arms outstretched with his hands running over your shoulders. His fingers twist around a bit of damp hair before he pulls them back, brushing them lightly beneath his nose. “Are you trying to smell my sweat?”

“Yeah,” he grins unabashedly, taking a fist full of your wet hair and inhaling deeply. He growls in pleasure, before placing a kiss on your neck. “What do they call it? Natural musk?”

“I do not have a musk, Harry!”

You stomp away from him, but the ache in your thighs keeps you from achieving the desired dramatics.

“Yeh do, love, and it’s sexy,” he says, easily closing the distance between you once more as he slithers his arms around your waist and rests his head atop yours, swaying you gently.

“Well, I think I’m smelly and would like to take a shower.”

“Can I help yeh with that, love?”

Turning in his arms, you give him a hard look. “No,” you answer firmly, “because to you helping is fucking and I’m just too exhausted for that right now.”

Keep reading

Babysitter-Ashton Irwin

Originally posted by loserxhemmo96

Warning: obviously smut and language

Rating: R


Your phone buzzed next to you on your bedside table. Groaning, you rolled over in your bed and unplugged your phone. Your phone read 8:30am which made you whimper in exhaustion. Below the time was a text from your only babysitting client at the time, Ms. Irwin. You had only acquired the job because your mom had been childhood friends with her, but she was a kind woman nonetheless.

Ms. Irwin was probably the sweetest woman to have ever walked the earth, despite the hardships she had overcame such as her husband leaving her with three kids a couple years ago. But what puzzled you to no extent was the fact that such a kind woman could have the literal spawn on satan as her eldest child.

Ashton Irwin, also known as Hades by yourself and your best friend (Y/BFF/N), was probably the rude human being you have encountered. Despite his stunning looks and musical talent, he was probably the one person you admittedly hated. Although he was a kind child when the two of you where in lower school, right when he hit his teens he pushed you away and never explained his reasons for doing so.

Now, in high school, he never even spared you a glance. It wasn’t as if you were still mad at him, he had pushed you away so long ago but he only angered you when you were babysitting his two younger siblings, Lauren and Harry. It seemed funny how Ms. Irwin always had you babysit even though Ashton was right upstairs in his room playing on his drums, but you both knew he wasn’t capable of taking care of two young children. 

From: Ms. Irwin-8:30am

Hey (Y/n), I’m so sorry to be an inconvenience to you but I was wondering if you can possibly watch the kids starting from 11am today to 7pm tomorrow? Sorry my boss just told me I have to come for a conference this weekend.

You groaned and sat up, running your hand through your hair before responding.

To: Ms. Irwin-8:34am

I’d be happy to (: I’ll see you at 11.

Since you had already woken up you knew attempting to go back to sleep was going to be useless. Hesitantly, you placed your bare feet on the cold wooden floor and quickly scampered to the bathroom to brush your teeth and you went to your kitchen to eat something for breakfast.

Time seemed to fly by and before you knew it you were approaching the front door of the Irwin household with your small overnight bag by your side.

You knocked once and the door flew open seconds later. Instead of the bright and smiling face of Ms. Irwin, you were greeted by the irritated look on Ashton’s face. “Hey Ash,” you smiled, despite the uncomfortable look on his face.

He closed the door behind you, “Don’t call me that,” he mumbled before walking past you to climb up his stairs and probably sulk in his room.

“(Y/n)!” Lauren yelled before wrapping her arms around your legs, followed by Harry.

“Hey guys! Are you excited about this weekend?” you asked, ruffling Harry’s hair.

They nodded in unison and you detached yourself from them to find Ms. Irwin who was in the kitchen making them their lunch. “Hi Ms. Irwin, how are you?” you asked, leaning against the counter.

She jumped in surprise, “Oh hi dear! I’m great, how are you?”

“I’m okay,” you responded.

“Thank you so much for coming on short notice. I really appreciate it.”

You smiled, grabbing the plates from her that held the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches she had made for them. “Of course, anytime. And don’t you have a plane to catch?” I asked.

Her eyes widened, “You’re right!” she rushed to grab her bags, “Again, thank you and I hope Ashton isn’t too much of a bother. He probably won’t leave his room anyways. Text me if there’s an emergency!” she yelled before running out to her car.

You let out a long breath before turning back to the two kids standing behind me. “So, what do you two wanna do?”

—————–

“That movie was so good!” Lauren yelled from the backseat of your car. The three of you had just went to the theater to see Moana and the kids were ecstatic about it.

You nodded and smiled, “Yeah it was great! What do you guys say? Ice cream when we get home?” They all nodded in excitement at your offer and practically bounced in their chairs until you arrived home.

Once you parked your car in the driveway they ran out of the car towards the house and flung themselves on the couch, awaiting their ice cream. You smiled at their excitement and went into the kitchen and pulled out the chocolate ice cream. 

You groaned when you realized the bowls where just about five centimeters from your reach even while you were on your toes. Suddenly, a body was pressed flush against yours. “You’re too damn short,” a voice said gruffly from behind you. You turned your head slightly to see Ashton’s bare, broad chest.

Before you knew it he had pulled down three bowls and placed them in front of you. “Thank you,” you whispered for no apparent reason, just because of the close proximity. 

His body lingered behind you for only a couple of seconds before he disappeared. You felt your face heat up but you quickly dismissed any thoughts of Ashton before scooping ice cream into the bowls.

“Who wants ice cream?” you asked, walking into the living room but you stopped in your tracks when the two toddlers were passed out on the couch. A soft smile spread across your face at the two softly sleeping. You set the bowls on the coffee table and picked up Harry to bring him to his room. 

After tucking both of them in you started walking down the hall to get to the stairs but you stopped in your tracks when you heard All Time Low blasting loudly from Ashton’s room.

You approached his door and opened it slightly, “Ashton can you please turn down your music? The kids are sleep-oh my god what are you doing!” you screeched when you saw Ashton laying naked on his bed, slowing pumping his length.

His face morphed into his signature angry expression and he pulled on his boxers before slamming the door in your face. You stood in front of his door, shell shocked for minutes until you finally processed what had actually happened and you ran downstairs to grab your bag and you shut the door to the guestroom down stairs.

Trying to get what you saw out of your head, you pulled out the book you brought with you and started to read. As you flipped through the pages you couldn’t seem to focus on what the story was telling you but rather on how hot Ashton looked, panting and grabbing his thick length in his hand.

A hard knock on your door interrupted your thoughts and you stood up from your bed, expecting one of the kids to be asking for the ice cream you promised them earlier.

But instead of the faces of one of the kids, when you opened the door you were faced with Ashton, and he looked more pissed then ever.

“Hey Ashton, I’m really sorry, I should’ve knocked-” your sentence was cut short yet again when Ashton flipped the two of you around and pushed you up against the door. 

You gasped when you felt his hot lips press hard kisses down the base of your throat. “Do you know what I was thinking about when I was jerking off?” he asked as he brought his face up to yours.

“What?” you asked.

His breath fanned against your face in uneven pants. “You,” he said before pressing his lips against yours.

It took you less than a minute to respond and you started moving your lips in sync with his. “Fuck I need you so bad,” he mumbled against your lips. All you could do was whimper in desperation.

“Where did this come from?” you panted, tangling your hands in his sandy curls.

He groaned when you tugged at his hair, “Fuck, I’ve liked you since we were crib mates.” With that his pressed his lips feverishly to yours again. You moaned when he shoved his tongue in your mouth.

His fingers slowly crept from your hips to your butt. He squeezed it lightly and pulled your body closer to his hips. He ground his rock hard erection against your clothed heat. “Fuck,” he drawled out. “I want to taste you so bad princess,” he mumbled against your lips.

He didn’t give you time to respond before he swiftly picked you up and sat down on the bed. With you straddling him, you pushed his chest back so you were on top of him. You tugged at his shirt, indicating you wanted it removed and he soon lifted it over his head. As he removed his shirt, you pulled yours over your head as well and you reached to unclasp your bra.

As soon as you had no clothes remaining on your top half, Ashton flipped you over so he hovered over you. “What do you want baby girl?” he asked, latching himself to one of your breasts. His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud and he grazed his teeth over it causing you to tug at his hair. 

“Anything, Ash. Please, I’m so wet.” 

A whimper escaped his lips as he left a trail of kisses down in between the valley of your breasts and he stopped right at the band of your sweatpants. He looked up at you for approval you merely nodded in response to his silent question.

Quickly, he pulled down your pants and continued kissing up your thighs from your knees. He kept stopping right where you needed him most so eventually you sighed in frustration, “Ash, please don’t tease-oh motherfucking shit!” you yelled wen he licked a long strip up your clothed heat.

He pulled down your underwear and left a kiss on your clit. “I love it when you call me that,” he mumbled before completely diving in.

His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking harshly causing your back to arch. When he added two fingers you almost lost it, “A-Ash, I c-can’t hold on much longer,” you whimpered, pulling his head closer.

He hummed against you sending vibrations that sent you over the edge. You let out a long moan as the knot inside of you exploded and you chanted his name repeatedly.

When he finally came up for air you pulled towards you and attached your lips to his. A hint of you could be tasted on his tongue which only made you more excited.

You dropped one of your hands down and slid it beneath his boxers. Grabbing his length, you slowly pumped it and with your thumb, you spread his precum around his tip.

He shivered, “As hot as you are doing this, can you please save this for next time because I’m literally about to burst and I really want to be inside of you when I do so.”

You didn’t stop pumping him which caused him to growl and grab both of your hands in one of his and he held them above your head. “Fuck you’re such a bad girl,” he groaned, pulling down his boxers with his other hand.

Out of anticipation, you rubbed your thighs together to try and create friction but he placed a hand in between them and spread them so wide you already knew walking would be an issue in the morning.

You felt his pulsing tip at your entrance and your mouth opened wide when he pushed his length all the way in. “Oh my-holy shit Ash,” you moaned, struggling against his grip because you ached to touch him.

“You’re so tight, princess,” he let out shakily.

You begged him to move and when he finally brought his length out and snapped his hips back into yours you could’ve sworn you saw stars. “Ashton, you’re so thick-fuck!” you arched your chest into his when he hit your g-spot.

He finally released your hands from his and brought his hand down to rub your clit. Instantly you brought your nails to his back and slowly dragged them down his soft skin. “Faster,” you moaned and tugged his lips down to yours.

He obeyed your wish and started snapping his hips harder and faster against yours. When he hit you g-spot again you clenched around him and he let out a strangled moan. “Fuck princess, please do that again.”

You clenched around him and without warning, he shot his load into you, making you cum around him as well. “(Y/n)!” he chanted as his thrusts got sloppy as he milked out both of your orgasms. 

Once the two of you had come down from your highs he turned and slowly pulled out and leaned on his side to face you. “I meant what I said.”

“And what was that?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“That I actually have really like you since we were crib buddies,” he laughed lightly. “I just didn’t know how to talk to a girl I really like and I didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

You smiled and pressed your lips to his. “I like you too.”

A wide smile spread across his face as he pulled you closer so that your head was resting on his chest. He turned off the bedside table lamp next to him and he left a kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight princess.”

(Draco Malfoy x Reader)  She Drew Me

        She draws. Oh my god she draws.

  That was Draco’s only coherent thought as he flipped through your sketchbook. As to how its in his possession; well, he didn’t exactly steal it per se. He just happened to be in the area when you dropped it and then he also just happened to pick it up and, uh, didn’t yet get around to returning it, yeah. 

  He is planning to return it of course but we mustn’t forget that he is also a Slytherin after all and you didn’t even put any wards on the thing so it’s technically your fault that he is now lying in his bed carefully examining each page.

  He’s got to admit that you have talent though. Each drawing seems to leap out of the page. They look almost real enough to be able to touch. As for what you draw, Draco hasn’t yet been able to discern any pattern in your objects of inspiration. You seem to draw everything; the Whomping Willow, the quidditch pitch, a hippogryff, a teapot?, a basket of fruit, treacle tart, a birthday cake etc. Turning to the next page he’s surprised to see a full body portrait of Blaise Zabini. 

 Ah yeah, they’re friends now, aren’t they.

  This is a development his isn’t all that happy about but seeing as he can’t seem to gather enough courage to talk to you himself there is literally nothing he can do about it.

  Something at the bottom left corner catches his attention and he realizes that it’s a caption:

  ‘This guy isn’t as funny as he likes to think he is’

  Draco raises his eyebrow in amusement and turns to the next page. This time he greeted with a very realistic Harry Potter and he’s already rolling his eyes before he can stop himself. Of course you would draw him, best friends and all that. This picture had a caption too:

‘Harry, your hair alone took me 4 hours. Fucking fix it’

  He snorted out loud this time and covered his mouth in horror. Mother would not be proud. All of the pages after that were drawings of people with little captions underneath;

Weasley: 

‘The day you stop eating is the day Professor McGonagall dies her hair pink.’

Granger: 

‘When in doubt, go to The Hermibrary’

Longbottom; 

‘I will not apologize for saying I despise your frog, Neville.’

Lovegood; 

‘Please stop telling me that my head is full of wrackspurts’

Finnegan: 

‘Stop blowing things up my dude’

  There was even one of Pansy and the caption underneath made him laugh out loud.

‘I will never get back the full 40 minutes it took me to shade your cleavage, Parkinson.’

  The next page made Draco stop in his tracks and his eyes widen almost comically.

 She drew me. She actually fucking drew me. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

  It was a simple picture. All he seemed to be doing was standing and staring off into the distance. He really doesn’t want to read the caption. What will it say? That he’s a git? That you hate his guts?

  After what felt like forever he managed to gather up his wits and like a true and proper Malfoy he looked at the caption head on.

  ‘I wish he would smile more’

 What?

Bewildered, Draco read it again. Smile more? Why would you want him to smile more? Malfoys don’t smile. At least not in public.

  Ignoring how abnormally fast his heart was now beating he turned to the next page and let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a squeak because it was another drawing of him. This time he was in the library hunched over a book. His eyes flickered to the caption; ‘Well well well, he does study’

  He traced it with his finger. “Of course I study” He scoffed but his words held no bite. He flipped to the next sketch……. another drawing of him? 

  This one was of him in Potions class, carefully measuring out an ingredient.

  ‘He’s quite good at this class’

The next one was of him in quidditch uniform.

‘Fucking smile already, you git’

 Refusing to acknowledge the butterfies that now occupied his stomach Draco quickly flipped through all the pages. They were all drawings of him. He snapped the book shut and buried his face in his hands.

 Oh god oh god oh god. He’s definitely blushing.

 Up until now he hasn’t dared to let himself think about it. Hasn’t allowed himself to hope. But what if-oh merlin what if - no, it can’t be.

 Slowly, Draco reopened the sketchbook and turned to the very last page. His breath caught in his throat as he took it all in. It was a strange picture. The lines seemed rough and hurried as if you were in a rush when you drew it, in fact you seem to have given all the details to his face. His heart clenched suddenly when he saw why. In this picture, he was smiling.                         

‘He’s smiling. Took you a whole fucking book too, you prick’

 Draco let the book fall into his lap as he put his face back in hands his brain going a hundred million miles an hour because what if, just what if-

  What if she likes me too?


______________________________________________________________

Should I do a continuation of this? Like one where Draco gives the sketchbook back or something…. I dunno. I don’t even know what made me write this hahaha.

Recovery

Hey guys! Here’s another one. I’m kinda screeching, I’m really excited about this one. I’ve been waiting to post it and I hope you like it. Thanks to all the new followers and tag listers for reading and to all the regular readers and comment leavers. You guys are really the best! Happy Sunday!

No Warnings, just cuteness.

Today was your day off. You, Steve, and Bucky were all excused from the mission today because the three of you hadn’t had a day to relax in a couple weeks. And boy, were you excited to unwind after a month of non stop missions. 

You enjoyed your perfectly regular morning in the tower. You woke up, ate breakfast, trained with the boys, showered, and now you were sitting in your favorite spot on the couch reading a book. Bucky and Steve had done the same and were now watching a movie.

You were sure an outsider would laugh at the three of you. While you were nestled into the corner of the couch, neatly folded under a blanket, the two men took over the other side of the sofa. Steve was hugging the armrest, his head leaning on his fist with his legs attempting to touch the other side of the room, while Bucky was slouched next to you, his legs open in a deep v while he absently ran his flesh fingers over the seam of the cushion. They were peas in a pod, those two.

You felt your eyelids slipping closed while you turned the page of your book. The whole team had been up late the night before, fooling around and sharing a bottle of Tony’s high quality liquor. He insisted on opening it, who were you to refuse a good drink?

After reading the same paragraph for the third time, you gave into your heavy eyelids and weak limbs. You closed your book and placed it safely next to you on the couch. Snuggling under the blanket, you allowed slumber to overtake your busy mind.

Next to you, Bucky had heard your breathing slow and simmer. He stole a glance your way and couldn’t stop the grin that was invading his features. In the back of his mind he knew you were one of the few who wasn’t afraid of him. You trusted him enough to let your guard down around him, which gave him a sad hope that maybe others would soon see him as less of a monster.

His eyes wandered from your closed eyes, to your slightly turned up lips, to the fuzzy blanket hiding your frame, to the cover of the book you were reading. The bright orange sleeve told him it was another Harry Potter hardback. He chuckled quietly. He had seen you read this one a couple times. He guessed it was your favorite. 

He shrugged and carefully slid the book away from you. Time to see what this prisoner did, he thought. But he was surprised to see a contrasting title on the first page. 

Recovery: Managing Post Traumatic Stress

Bucky felt his heart sink. He didn’t know much about you, only that you were a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who joined the team after the agency’s untimely fall, and simple personal things that he learned through his growing friendship with you. You adored Harry Potter. You fell in love with any animal you ever saw. You were from New York. You had a brother. But that you were hiding some sort of PTSD? That one you never mentioned. 

Against his better judgement he flipped through the pages. Gravity forced the pages to fall until he reached a dogeared page, one that the deep crease in the binding suggested you had studied. His finger hovered over the first page of a chapter on nightmares. 

Bucky’s stomach flipped. He prayed to whatever was out there that you weren’t having nightmares similar to his. His eyes flew down the pages, looking at words you had scribbled in the margins.

have a routine, journal, music, chew gum after

The pencil of your neat cursive was smudging, but he could still read the faded words. He recognized the tactics to calm a victim of nightmares. 

He wondered why you were keeping this all a secret. Didn’t you know you could talk to him about this? You really felt like you had to hide a self help book behind a Harry Potter binding? 

He felt his bruised heart shatter. You poor doll. He didn’t want to bombard you with questions or betray your trust. So he told Steve to do it.


That afternoon, there was a soft knock on your door. Without ceasing your cleaning, you invited whoever it was to come in.

Steve leaned on the door frame with his bulging arms crossed over his chest, his face one of concern. 

“Oh, boy. What’s goin’ on?” You teased once you looked up and saw his nervous state. 

His expression lifted as he chuckled. His sad blue eyes fell to the floor as he shook his head. “That obvious?”

You hummed in confirmation as you tossed a shirt into the hamper against the wall. 

You knew something was coming when he let out a deep sigh. You sat on the edge of your bed and waited for him to find the right words. 

He joined you on the duvet. “(Y/N), is everything alright? With you? Are you okay here?”

Woah, three questions at once, he was really worried.

“Yeah, Steve I’m good. Why?

“Uh, um, We just-I, um…” You giggled at his struggles. He was obviously tip toeing around something big.

“Steve, spit it out.”

“Your Harry Potter book… isn’t a Harry Potter book.”

You closed your eyes and sighed. Caught red handed. You felt him stiffen next to you. You opened your eyes and gave him a reassuring smile. You weren’t angry at his snooping, honestly you should have been more careful about it. At least Bucky didn’t see it, you thought. 

“It’s not mine. I-I mean, it’s not for me.”

He cut you off. “(Y/N), you don’t have to be shy about this, we all-”

“No really, Steve, I’m good. It’s not for me, it’s for, uh, it’s for Bucky.”

Steve’s brows met and the creases in his forehead deepened, encouraging you to explain. 

“Umm, a few nights back, I heard Bucky screaming in his sleep and… I couldn’t do anything. So, I got this book about PTSD so, maybe I can help.” Your words we slow and deliberate. This was the first time you admitted to yourself why you were doing this. Most of the time you tried to stay out of Bucky’s business but seeing his nightmare tear him apart changed your mind.

Steve just nodded and stared at the floor like he didn’t know what to say. Finally, he looked up at you from his bent position and thanked you.

You understood. You knew how much Bucky meant to him. “Just don’t tell Bucky, okay? I don’t want him to take it the wrong way. I may be crossing a boundary here.”

Steve nodded and braced himself on his knees as he stood up. After sauntering to the door, he touched the top of the frame and said, “You should tell him.”

Steve left you alone in your room and you continued your cleaning. You knew you should tell Bucky. You just didn’t know how to.


Later that night, you were making yourself a cup of tea when you heard Bucky call your name. 

Your response was covered by F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s. “Miss (Y/L/N) is in the kitchen, Mr. Barnes.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the AI. You still weren’t used to having her around. 

You brought the steaming mug up to your lips and puffed on the liquid, trying to cool it down. You heard heavy footsteps coming toward the kitchen and you waited for his appearance. 

He landed in the kitchen, slightly winded from his jog through the tower. 

“Hey you,” you threw your usual greeting his way as you placed the mug on the counter before it burned your hands. 

“You-” he stopped himself. When your eyes lifted to his you saw him shaking his head incredulously. 

It was then that you noticed his expression. His chest was still rising and falling at an unusual pace, his cheeks pink and his hair tousled. His eyes were still and wide. They held something you couldn’t quite place. 

Your eyebrows lifted, inviting him to explain himself. 

“You’re somethin’ else.”

Shit. He knew about the book. Shitshitshit. Time to come clean.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry, Bucky, I just wanted to help you.”

Then he was coming after you. But, instead of yelling at you for invading his privacy and patronizing him, he wrapped his arms tight around your shoulders and landed a kiss to your temple.

“I’m not angry, sweetheart,” he sang. 

You sighed in relief and relaxed, hugging his waist.

Over Bucky’s arm, you saw Steve peeking his head around the corner to watch the two of you.

“Steven Grant Rogers.”

You unwound from Bucky’s embrace, but felt his hand remain on your hip. You tried to ignore the fire on your skin as you glared at Captain America hiding behind the door. 

“Can’t keep a secret for his life,” Bucky mumbled loud enough for Steve to hear. 

“Secrets aren’t American!” you announced with allegiance. 

“Secrets aren’t righteous or patriotic!” Bucky caught on and helped you tease Steve. 

“I’m leaving now,” Steve grumbled as he made his way down the hall to the elevator.  

You giggled and turned back toward Bucky. You tried to act nonchalant as his fingers reached to coddle your waist. “But seriously,” you started counting on your fingers, “They say writing your nightmares down helps, and you should have a routine before you go to bed that calms your mind, and I don’t know why, but having a jar of coffee beans near your bed helps, I guess they’re supposed to ground you-”

“The coffee grounds ground me?”

“No, no, coffee beans, the strong smell-” You stopped in your tracks when you realized he was teasing you. You couldn’t help but laugh along, but you slapped his chest for good measure. His smirk brought a red blush to your cheeks. 

He leaned down to you until his lips were almost touching yours. “Thank you.”

His breath fanned your face and you drowned in his arms, his scent completely intoxicating. You couldn’t even feel your feet on the floor. 

“I could use a jar of coffee beans right about now,” you whispered. 

Bucky chuckled and closed the distance between your lips. He was like candy, you couldn’t get enough. His lips were soft and warm, smooth. Your tongue reached out to taste more of him, and he gladly took you in.

You felt like you were dancing, your tongue with his, your hands grazing across his body, his strong arms supporting you and pulling you closer and closer until there was no air between your bodies. 

When both of you were panting, the only area of your bodies that parted was your lips. To make up for it, he dropped his forehead to yours. When the world stopped spinning around you, you leaned back in his arms and smoothed his hair in your fingers. 

You finally knew what his eyes had been telling you all along. He loved you.

You gazed into his baby blues and then traveled to his pink cheeks and his puffy lips. It was like you were looking at a new man. He seemed at peace. Happy.

“Hey, you,” you whispered. 

He shook his head. “You’re somethin’ else.”

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