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#she has so many potions and i love them
mothmanns · 1 year
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im lonely 2day
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hypervoxel · 7 days
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Referencing one of the fics I talked about here, the "this was supposed to be about Redemption. it isn't." Vox-centric rape aftermath one, which will now be going behind a readmore with that description as your warning
I need to talk about this forever but I am not close to publishing anything yet. But I do have a lot of it plotted out (with no ending in sight though, unfortunately).
Vox, at his core, wants to be liked. Where other Overlords lean into the fear their power inspires, Vox softens himself and puts on a friendly smile. He needs public approval. He yearns for their affection, their eyes, their obsession. He made an AI assistant modeled and named after himself on all of their phones/watches/devices.
But Vox still is an Overlord, and you don't get power in Hell without making people hate you.
The Vees have a hold not just on media, but on drugs, real estate, construction, data centers, manufacturing, the entire electrical grid and fiber optic lines, the list goes on and on. Vox's empire touches every corner of their city; no one is free from his influence unless they shun modernity entirely.
It's the drugs that cause an issue this time.
Valentino has been beefing with The Alchemist since that mutt first made a name for himself. His aesthetic was ancient to match the name, but the Alchemist is a new sinner, some lowlife who thought that because he knew how to make lean in life, he could make a name for himself here and branch out into all sorts of new, hellish drugs. Thing is, addicts are the easiest soul contract you'll ever make. Promise to supply their addiction, and as long as you can, you'll collect souls as quickly as you can make Deals. The Alchemist getting to new Sinners before the Vees get a chance to becomes a problem.
Valentino has plenty of enforcers to take care of uppity wannabe Overlords encroaching on their turf though. The problem should be short-lived.
It isn't.
Vox hasn't been paying much attention to it. These things come and go, as gangsters die and Valentino forces them into submission. Val may focus more on his Porn Studio now, but he got his Overlord status through taking out the old families and cartels, the mobs and mafias running Pentagram City, taking over their drug trafficking and brothels. So Vox didn't worry about it. Val might need direction when dealing with his public persona, didn't know when to tone himself down for polite company, but when the situation called for Val's brand of violence? Vox let him handle it.
He realized, after the drinks at his investor meeting led to him collapsing dizzily to the floor, reaching out blindly for the now non-existent electrical grid and realizing that the building's power had been cut off, that he should have paid more attention to who might have it out for The Vees right now, and which investors weren't in Valentino's pocket.
... He escapes eventually. They may have been smart enough to keep him away from electrical wires, but one finally made the mistake of not putting his phone on airplane mode while recording their captive Overlord, and Vox used it as a jump point.
The damage had already been done.
Val is still ranting about his typical inane drama, and Vox wants nothing more than to look at his phone. He can't do that. Not until his algorithm cleans up any mention of. Himself. In compromising situations. It's being posted faster than the bots can take it down, but at least Vox has turned off any direct messages, blocked the usual pings alerting him every time he's mentioned, and filtered emails to only show what is absolutely and immediately necessary for the continued running of VoxTek. Even that decision has also been posted about online, people making fun of him for not being able to handle the backlash. He used to have a language model AI answering comments and DMs, a personal touch for his fans. It had responded to far too many messages about how good he looked in his latest broadcast with the standard thanks and appreciation for their support, before he disabled it. Vox was sure screenshots of those responses were also still going around.
The Vee's retribution on the other Overlord is to torture him and his inner circle on live video. The Alchemist posted several recordings of Vox's rape online to further humiliate him, so the Vees will pay back like with like, making use of Val's stash of angelic bullets to slowly kill off everyone who touched Vox. Until the Alchemist begs for mercy, tells them he'll give them anything, everything, offering up everything to them, his soul, his territory, all of his Contracts...
Velvette takes the deal. "I'll give you anything," was the phrase they agreed on, "my Contracts, yours. Money, apothecaries, everything, please." They shook on those terms, the Alchemist too out of it at this point to realize that he didn't ask for anything in return for all that he just handed over. Vox shoots him.
His death, his defeat, it doesn't fix anything.
It was supposed to. It was supposed to make everyone stop talking about Vox like he's the new most popular porn star - or at least focus on him when he's in control of the situation. Wasn't that hotter? Filmed professionally by Valentino's best director instead of on a handheld shaking cell phone and. It was supposed to show everyone that you can't mess with The Vees. Wins against them are only temporary. They'll come out on top in the end. But everyone was still talking about old news.
Anyway. Many more thoughts but this is long enough lmao. A huge focus of this multi series wip is how other characters react to it, not just Vox. Like: Valentino has so many issues of his own and he is projecting them onto Vox. Valentino escaped victimhood long ago, and he is no longer the kind of person who can be targeted by abusers or bigots. Vox was his equal. Vox was his.
"Hey! Vox!" There's hands on him and he reels back, but there's nowhere to go. His shoulders are wrenched out of place, arms bound by his own bowtie, nowhere to run. This isn't happening. There's something in his mouth— no there's not?— Bite me and I'll knock out your teeth,* a gruff voice is saying. Vox, they mock, Vox, they ask if he likes hearing his name chanted during. No, Vox! He puts his name on everything, should they brand him with his own logo? Would he like that? He screams when they grab his antenna and wrench his head to the side. "Vox! "You're not listening to me!" Val's expression clears as Vox blinks to awareness. His glare melts into a on of concern. "Are you seriously still thinking about that gangbanger?" Val scoffs. Frowns. Thinks of something with a smile growing across his face. One hand is on Vox's chest, another two on his hips, he guides Vox back, gently. Vox stumbles when he hits the arm of the couch, falling, flailing, landing on his back with an oomf Val crawls over top of him. "Stop thinking about them, Voxxy. You know I can show you a much better time." Vox flinches when Val's hand trails lower onto his thigh, trying to wiggle away for the first time, and Val's brows furrow. "I didn't think you were hurt there," he mutters. "Skin graft," Vox squeaks, breathless. He hated feeling breathless. He didn't even need to breathe.
Velvette, well. She was the person Vox teleported to. He manifested out of her phone and knocked them both to the ground, passing out on top of her. She got the first look at him before any of his technicians were called in to fix things. He came to her. And she can't help but feel responsible for him.
In the video, they fucked him like he was a toy. No, not even that. They treated him with less regard than anyone fucked even a FizzBot. It wasn't a good video. These weren't porn directors. They weren't sex workers who had trained to make this art. It was brutal and it was vulgar and it didn't even look good. Bad angles and shaky camera, but shared tens of thousands of times and the number was still growing. The original had been removed. She made sure of that. But that hadn't stopped its spread, couldn't do anything when people downloaded the video as quickly as they could to reupload it, far too many reposts to track down, especially with Vox still. Offline. She couldn't exactly plug herself into his supercomputer. Velvette was the Social Media Queen. She was the Online Overlord. She was meant to be in charge of The Vees' images online, currating how they presented themselves to that hungry audience. This wasn't supposed to get out of her control. —— But she had posted about Vox in the afteraffects of Val's venom, doped to his gills on the thing she had recreated into Love Potion. She had tagged it for a free promo of her own products. Vox was funny when his tongue was loose and his affection and attention freely given. And Vox thought humanizing himself was important, some twisted idea leftover from life about being "robotic" that dictated his body in the afterlife and left him desperate to be understood as a living, albeit no longer breathing human being. He softened himself to be less of a monster to anyone looking, dressed himself like he wasn't a threat, smiled and laughed and and. It was her idea to capitalize on Val and Vox's relationship. Well, Val was the one who first callously posted about breaking Vox's screen, but it was her idea to turn it into a running joke. It was funny when Val punched Vox and threw things at him and broke his fucking face. It was funny, because unlike bruises and bloody noses, Vox's screen was easily replaceable glass. It broke so easily, anyone who managed to get a lucky hit on him while fighting could no longer feel satisfied by that when Vox's boyfriend did more damage than a rival Overlord could ever manage to. Glass was easy to break. Vox didn't like fighting back, but it was funny, was barely even violence. It meant nothing more than rolled eyes and a swiftly scheduled appointment with a technician to switch out screens. No one was supposed to look at the image she created and come to the conclusion that Vox was easy to subdue. It wasn't supposed to make Vox look weak. It was supposed to make him impossible to hurt, because any damage done was so easy to fix that it was no big deal at all. But. His face was so easy to break. He was so loose limbed and pliant on Love Potion. He might have claws, but he preferred not to use them, hiding behind cameras and screens all day. What the fuck were people supposed to take from that?
Other characters have thoughts too. Alastor isn't online, doesn't know the backstory, but Vox makes his picture shows impossible to miss with displays all over the city. Vox has become unrecognizable. Alastor is disgusted that they used to be acquaintances.
Cherri gleefully sends Angel every vindictive meme about Vox she sees. She wishes it had happened to Valentino instead, but Vox is also profiting off of her bestie's abuse, so he absolutely deserves everything that happened to him and more.
Angel laughed about it at first, but... It doesn't feel right to celebrate anyone's rape. And some of Cherri's comments... Angel has been used to sell this lifestyle to the new talent Valentino wants to make Deals with. He's responsible for ruining so many lives, hanging off Val's arm and telling people how great it is to work for him. And long before that, Angel was involved in the Mafia and, well, like Val himself, they didn't just make money on drugs, did they? Angel wonders if his best friend would be so supportive of him if she knew all this. He wonders of she'd think he deserves his fate too.
Carmilla, like Alastor, is not very online. She hears from her daughters that there's a reason The Vees are doing this, but the girls aren't sharing any details, and don't stay to watch the broadcast Vox has forced onto their TV. She watches The Vees make a Deal with a Sinner and immediately turn around and kill him with one of her weapons. Overlords are meant to protect the Souls that have been entrusted to them. Souls are valuable, the most valuable thing you have to offer anyone. What message is Vox spreading, making mockery of Deals this way, acting like Souls are worthless and can be thrown away. The Vees are just making Sinners less likely to sell themselves to anyone.
Carmilla had scheduled a meeting for fellow Overlords to talk about saving as many Sinners as possible in the upcoming Exterminations. The Vees were meant to attend, but obviously, they are uninterested in keeping the Sinners entrusted to their care alive. She uninvites them. (Vox is still filtering out his emails. He doesn't get this one. The Vees show up anyway.)
Charlie thinks about violence a lot. It's inescapable. She doesn't use her phone much, but she learns what happened to Vox and nearly cries. She makes a post about how violence shouldn't be celebrated and wishes Vox well in his recovery. Days later, she watches Vox take over the television and the three Vees torture the people who tortured him, and she thinks about what will happen when she has the opportunity to reach out to two Sinners who hurt each other. She wants to think they can all be redeemed, that her hotel should be open to anyone. She watches the screen through her fingers, unable to look away as Vox kills the Sinner on his knees before him, cackling. She watches The Vees kiss each other over the dead body, tender and loving, the broadcast ending as Vox rests his screen against Velvette's hair and Valentino wraps all of his arms around the two. And she thinks about forgiveness, and she wonders what she would do if someone hurt Vaggie.
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angelfrombeneth · 4 months
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MAGICAL DRYING DISASTER - T . NOTT
Mature Content Ahead
Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
Summary: After waking up late and discovering you left your washing in the machine over night. You had no other choice to use magic to dry it - except it did dry but also shrunk, massively, in the process. Once Theo finds you let's just say he manages to keep it kept in till the common room. Then it's all fair game from there.
Warnings: SMUT, No Protection - PIV, Theodore is a munch - Fem Oral, Body Worship, Smidge of SubWhiney!Theo, Cursing
A/N: This is my first one-shot fic I've posted in a long time but also my first one EVER on tumblr. I used to write on wattpad and ao3 but took a very long hiatus. So excuse if my smut writing is a bit off or any spelling mistakes I currently have acrylics on - its quite hard to type.
Click Clack.. Click Clack...
You ran towards your class quickly, pulling town the absolute belt of a skirt you wore today before entering into your potions class. Late.
"Miss Neveah.. Thank you for finally joining us" Snape panned. His face expressionless as he stared at you. A slight hint of disapproval in his face.
"I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again!" You scurried to your seat beside Pansy.
"It most definitely will not" He groaned before turning back to the chalk board to continue his explanation.
You shimmied on your seat, pulling as much skirt down as you could. Practically flashing those behind you of your bright red thong and gorgeously placed star tramp stamp.
Nice touch is what you thought when you got it a few months ago after a night out in the muggle clubs with Pansy. She persuaded you and said Theo would love it. Or which he did.
"Y/N.. your skirt is practically a belt. Trying to flash us all?" She whispered, giggling as he peered down as your legs, absent of any tights aswell.
"Girl.. It shrunk when I tried to use magic to dry it. All my other skirts are dirty" You pouted. "I also couldn't find a pair of fucking tights, I was running so late"
"Its not that bad, just don't bend over if you can" She smiled as she reached to your ponytail tieing in a little green piece of ribbon into a bow. "And don't let Mr Lover boy see you" She snickered.
You sighed, focusing in the rest of your class. Praying not many people noticed. You were pretty daft thinking that. You were already the hot goss. It was only so long till Theo found out.
Though alot of boys in Hogwarts fancied you, they all knew about Theodore Nott swooping in, in 4th year the year before you 'blossomed' as they said. They say he saw the potential and snatched it up while they could.
You walked down the hall, pulling your books to your chest as your red bottoms clipped the wooden floor that spanned the whole school. Many turned your way gawking as you, mostly more than normal due to tour skirt size today.
You weren't a bad girl. You has good grades, you were overly nice to everyone just the people you hung round with were opposite. Many saying you were too nice.
After a quick detour to pick up an extra book from the library you shuffled down the corridor, your heels clicking their signature click against the oak as you walked towards your friends who stood beside your regular post class meeting pillar.
"Sorry I'm late!" You skipped towards them hurriedly. You watched as Theo whipped his head around, his jaw practically dislodging from his face as he stared at you.
Mattheo wolf whistled as he looked you up and down. Smirking as he pushed himself off the wall - "Damn Y/N, I didn't know you had this hiding somewhere"
"Neither did I" Theo's gaze burned through you as he bent his neck to get look at you from behind. Definitely a sight for sore eyes.
"I'm sorry- I fucked up a spell and I was running late I didn't mean to- OUCH! THEO!" you got cut off as he slapped his hand harshly against your ass before gripping a handful as he smirked down at you. The boys laughing at the pair of you.
"As much as I am thoroughly enjoying the sight Bella" He looked down at you, his gaze growing darker by each word that fell from his lips. He leaned in, practically growling in your ear."I don't like to share amore mio"
You gulped at his words as he pulled his jumper off, wrapping it around your waist. Slightly tugging on the fabric jerking you forward into his chest as he smiled down at you before kissing your forehead softly.
"As cute as you two are, everyone's looking. Can we clear out" Pansy groaned.
You snapped back into reality, quietly ushering an apology to the group as Pansy pulled your hand as you both walked hand in hand ahead of the boys.
You heard a smack and an 'ow' turning around quickly as you turned the corner seeing Theo slapping Mattheo across the head. "Flirt with someone else" He groaned. You giggled slightly at his protectiveness.
Once you arrived to the common room everyone scattered to do their own thing. Theo once more approaching you.
"Now..." a cheeky smile appeared on his lips as his hands held your hips softly as he peered down at you. The height difference really getting to you. "I can't stop thinking about that little skirt on you.." His hands slowly moving down and around to the curve of your ass as he nibbled at his lip. "..and how much I want to fuck you in it" He whispered the last part lowly as his tongue poked out and slid across his bottom lip as he squeezed your ass through his jumper.
"Then do it" You caught his gaze, already out of breath from his minimal touch.
It's like that's all he needed to hear. Like without warning and no regards for the fact your friends were just a few steps away bundled in the corner on the coaches - he pulled you tightly, hand on your ass against him as his lips crushed into yours. Needy kisses as if he hasn't kissed you in months.
The sudden rip of his jumper loosening the knot as it dropped to the floor. His hands sliding under the little fabric the skirt had as his nails gripped into the flesh on your ass cheeks. You yelped slightly and he took that as permission to shove his whole tongue down your throat. The kisses grew messier and messier as you both backed up towards the stairs, bumping into everything possible as you both chuckled.
Breaking the kiss as you both removed various pieces of clothing as you scrambled up the stairs. By the time you got to yours and Pansys' room you both had disregarded of practically everything. Theo quickly finishing unzipping his trousers before pushing you into the room, kicking the leg off quickly, flinging his trousers into the centre of the hallway as he shut the door behind him.
You stood infront of him in just your skirt, bra and panties as he ruffled his hair, staring at you like a kid in a candy shop, pondering what you try next.
"DONT WORRY WE'LL CLEAN UP AFTER YOU TWO!" Draco yelled, annoyance plastered in his voice.
That broke Theo out of the trance he was in as he lunged at you, unclipping your bra swiftly as he threw it across the room before pushing you against the bed.
"Fuck, I'm so hard. I can't- I just need to fuck you now" He groaned, biting at his lip anxiously as he stared down at you. "Get on all fours". You obliged and quickly.
You felt the sudden cold breeze against your clit as he tightly yanked on your thong, splitting it apart at he threw it on the floor aswell as he kicked off his boxers.
"Fuck your so hot" He groaned, dropping to his knees as he gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks wide as he licked a nice wet strip up your pussy.
A moan lodged itself in your neck as you bundled up the sheets in your hands as he let out a shaky breath.
"Wanna eat you out so bad, but my cock is throbbing.. Need to treat you well tho" He whined as he spat into his hand as he began to fuck it. His free hand gripping your ass as he dove his tounge deep into you.
You hung your head forward as you let out an exasperated sigh as your toes curled. Theo's tongue worked wonders inside of you. He ate you out like it was dire need. The roughness of his mouth sopping against your pussy as his tongue drilled into your hole. The wetness of both his mouth and your pussy mixing as he moaned against you as he continued to fuck the shit out of his hand. Loud moans rumbled against you as he sucked and twirled like no tomorrow.
You were drawing to your high as you noticed he stopped, pulling away for a moment as he let out a deep growl before a light whimper escaped his lips as he came up the bottom of your bed frame and on the floor. He panted for a moment, light whimpers leaving gis mouth as he toyed with his sensitive dick.
"Fuck- Sorry Principessa. I came, naughty of me to do so before I helped you. I'll make sure you feel extra good" His other hand colliding with your ass again as he dove back in. His nose rubbing harshly against your slit as he flicked his tongue continously against your clit. Sucking and nibbling at it from time to time as he continued to grip and massage at your ass.
The sudden overwhelming feeling drove you over the age as you screeched, yelping as you squirted all over his face. You gasped loudly, crashing to the bed as your legs shook slightly as you panted.
"Mhmm.. Love it when you squirt" You looked at Theo as he wiped the cum from his face, sucking his fingers like a dessert he's got to finish.
"You're so gorgeous, so fucking beautiful.. Beautiful body" He groaned as he slid his hands up your curves, moaning softly as the scene infront of him. "S'lucky.. So fucking lucky.."
He tapped your thigh, as you led on your stomach on the bed, your legs hanging off the end slightly as your tippy toes held against the floor.
"Gunna make you feel so good, amore" he cooed as he lied up his tip with your slit before thrashing it in harshly. You yelped once again at you looked back at him.
"Going to teach you not. to wear. a slut. short. skirt. again. fuck!" He growled with each thrust as your body jerked against his movements. Your body slid up and down the bed as your feet struggled to stay on the floor much longer as he pushed you up the bed.
It wasn't before long till Theo climbed ontop of you, straddling you as he drilled into you. Loud whimpers left you as you clawed at the sheets as you screamed into his duvet.
"FUCK!! ARGH- TEDDY!" you pleaded as your back arched, shoving your ass harder into him as his hands gripped your hips tightly, his nails scatting cresent moons to your flesh as your bodies recoiled against one another.
"Yes! Like that.. fuckkk Teddy more..  please!" You babbled. He reached over grabbing your neck as he pulled your body up against his chest. Your legs trapped between his as he squeezed them shut. His arm tightly against your stomach as he continued to drill up into your pussy. You gasped and whined continously as he groaned and growled into your ear. His grip growing tighter around your neck as he flexed his biceps, his tongue sliding up your jawline to your ear.
"Teddy- I'm gunna cum! Please please please PLEASE! Cum with me!" you whined as your eyes rolled back. The growing feeling in your stomach as his cock continued to thrash into you. You were drunk on the feeling of him buried into you. You tightly shut your thighs together for any ounce more of pressure you could grasp.
"Good girl- M'close" He panted.
Your eyes began to roll back as you gasped for air at the tightening of his arm around your neck. The bursting feeling in your stomach as your whole body recoiled and shook as you screamed like bloody murder with all the air you has left in your lungs as you came.
At that moment Theo threw you down, as your body twitched conthously. He gripped your ass as he thrusted deep before cumming in you. Groaning deeply as he threw his head back. Sweat trickling down his forehead and chest as he panted heavily.
Neither of you moved for a moment to compose yourself. You occasionally twitched at your body recoiled against his dick.
"Fuck me.. So good" Theo pulled out, sighing as he watched cum pool at your slit and began to slide down. You felt his tip against you again as he collected the escaping cum and slightly fucked it back into you. His dick entering you once more as you gasped at the feeling.
"Good girl.. such a good girl.." His light thrusts as he peppered you with kisses all over your back and shoulders.
He gasped slightly as he froze above you. You were about to question him till you felt a slightly release.
"Did you just cum again Teddy?" You giggled as he thrusted once more before pulling out and collapsing next to you.
"Its hard to last with you. You make me so addicted" He smirked, his head turned to look at you. He rested his hand on your ass, squeezing it lightly from time to time.
"I'm glad this skirt shrunk" He chuckled, his smile wide.
You shook your head as you laughed at him. "You're a fool" You shimmied towards him, flicking your leg over his chest as you cuddled into him. His body warm.
He kissed your shoulder softly before softly kissing your cheek, nibbling at your ear before whispering;
"Ti amo amore mio".
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ghostslazy · 4 months
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Extremely rough first stab at the Taz Vs. Dracula lineup bc I love them all so so much already and don’t have the time to finish a lineup of characters for fun rn 🥲
Close up sketches, design notes and surprise drac under the break:
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Travis’ characters are always the hardest for me to design idk why, but I made him very western inspired with some vampire hunting flair. Lady Agatha Thistle’s breed was one I hadn’t heard of before but I love a good blood hound. I always end up making Travis’s chapters warm toned, they’re all very red/orange coded to me. (Beef would be the exception I think he’s very pink and blue in my mind)
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Clint always makes the sweetest roundest characters I love designing his. I wish we had a cannon spelling because there’s so many directions you can go with “Filo” also his characters are usually green or green adjacent to me. I cant wait to see him bust out more booger potions
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Justin never misses with a character and I cling onto every single one he makes so quickly and violently it’s getting embarrassing. I like the idea that she would still dress extremely fancy and posh even tho her new body should be in some battle ready armor. Also I made her blue since she is a Frankenstein’s monster and most likely wouldn’t have the blood flow to have a human color. Plus I love the monster high color palettes so I’m referencing a little bit. Justin has very cool coded characters to me, lots of blue and purple and forest greens.
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Probably not sticking with this Dracula design but I want him to love a bit more silly and slick, I think having him be lanky and shorter will pair him very well against our rough and rowdy boys
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hollowdeath · 4 months
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obsession (hjp)
pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)
summary: harry potter (19) is attending university after hogwarts, and isn't recovering well from the war. completely alone, harry soon grows attached to you, the girl from his potions class. however, his attachment quickly turns to obsession, and harry isn't sure how much longer he can be just friends.
content warning: smut!!! perverted thoughts/acts, shame, masturbation, stalking, obsession, yearning/pining, intoxication, jealousy, stealing panties, dry humping, cumming in pants, oral sex, overstimulation, penetration, creampie
a/n: sooo i wrote over 19k words in like 2 days. but i haven't written a proper fanfic in literal years so please be kind. heavilyyy inspired by "never have i ever" from @selfcarecap , please go read it when you have the chance!! this is very much a SLOW BURN, do not proceed if you do not thoroughly enjoy pining…ft. a shy, inexperienced, slightly obsessive university student harry who has jealousy issues and perverted tendencies but is still such a complete gentleman…some of this might not be book/movie accurate…sue me...
song: Do Friends Fall In Love? - Rachael & Vilary
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harry's expectations of university weren't very high to begin with, but he didn't expect it to be this shit.
there were limited options for him since he had no desire of leaving the U.K. to further his career as an auror. and since the only 2 schools that offered a program for him were either an old, run-down campus in the middle of nowhere or an overpopulated city school known for its infamously average quidditch team, his decision wasn't difficult.
the dorms, however, made him reconsider entirely.
though harry was grateful to have a solo room, it was entirely bleak and smelled vaguely of mildew. one tiny window he's unable to open past a few inches and a depressing overhead fluorescent bulb was enough to have him searching the other university's dormitory information, only to be just as disappointed with the result.
harry gets over it quickly, as it becomes fitting to his mental state at the time. plain, cold, and unforgiving, harry feels like it's what he deserves to live in after everything he's seen.
to say harry hadn't been doing well after the war was a criminal understatement. his whole life had been leading up to and dedicated towards killing voldemort before he killed harry first. in that time, he held a purpose and drive to fulfill everyone's expectations of him. and, once he did, he was left with nothing.
voldemort had consumed harry's entire life, and the lives of everyone around him as well. though they technically both died, harry had the choice to live again. after he made that choice, he was never the same.
the relationships around him were changed forever. he lost friends. he lost family. he lost himself. and yet, life continued.
applying for university felt so silly to harry at the time. he had just fought in a war and died, and now he had to sign up for 9 a.m. transfiguration classes. to say he was uninterested was putting it lightly.
it didn't help that he knew no one there. it was nobody's first choice school by any means, and it didn't exactly have the best reputation. his classmates fizzled out into other schools or already had jobs, like ron…
ron and hermione. seems like lately wherever hermione went, ron followed. of course she got accepted into some of the most prestigious schools of magic in the world, with some practically begging her to pick them over the others.
in the end she chose westminster, a legendary university along the northern ireland coast that saw many great members of the ministry in its time. harry's school was practically the furthest it could've been from her all things considered.
ron worked for the ministry office in the area like his father, though he was more like an assistant or secretary than an active member. still, he was paid well and ultimately he and hermione were able to find a place near both of their priorities that worked well for them.
harry knew he wouldn't see them very often at this point. no matter, his relationship with them had long since changed, and not for the better. ron had lost his brother and hermione had lost her parents. once the calm settled after the storm, there was a lingering tension between him and them that went unmentioned for over a year before they split ways silently.
harry still talked to hermione towards the end, mainly to discuss ron and his grief. harry knew the growing coldness between him and his friend wasn't unjustified. harry felt a level of guilt that he previously thought was impossible when it came to fred, and though ron never out right blamed harry, it was just never the same between them.
harry knew their relationship wasn't completely at a loss. like hermione told him, it just needed time. once they both process what happened they can always come back to each other.
but for now, harry was alone. completely and utterly alone.
his first day of classes were confusing, boring, and packed with students. seriously, every seat in every lecture hall was filled, and the hallways were just a mess. the sidewalks weren't much better with too many people being too loud, walking too slow or too fast. in the end, harry was exhausted by the time he showed up for his last class of the day.
another packed room despite his effort to be there earlier than he planned. rather than a lecture hall like all his other classes that day, this last one was set up with plenty of tables and cauldrons. potions. harry loved this class at hogwarts. as his eyes scanned the room for an empty seat, he felt eyes fixated on him from every direction.
though he looks like the same harry potter everyone's read about, he's completely different now. his once bright eyes and radiant smile have been replaced with eye bags and unkempt facial hair. both his short beard and his overgrown hair gave him a messy, disheveled appearance that was rougher than people remember. but, as always, the glasses had never left, and neither had his scar.
ignoring the curious glances and whispers, harry takes a seat towards the middle of the room at an empty table. as more students filed in, his table became the last place to sit. he couldn't help but feel like an outsider, his first day and he already had a reputation.
as the final bell rings, the last student comes walking through the doorway.
it's you.
you're walking quickly, rushing into the classroom just as the ringing of the bell comes to an end. right behind you is the professor, a man of small stature with an impressive beard yet bald head.
"ms. [y/l/n]." he simply states.
you stop in your tracks, a look of defeat crossing your face as you slowly turn to him.
"professor rodden." you respond cheerfully. "it's nice to see you."
he looks unimpressed with your tone.
"we should try to be a bit more punctual next class period, hm?" he asks condescendingly.
harry is taken aback by the immediately intense interaction between the two of you. there's clearly an established relationship there that doesn't seem to be positive.
he can't see the look on your face as your back is turned to him, but he can hear the forced smile in your voice as you cordially respond, "of course. my apologies."
you turn on your heel, facing harry as you quickly find your seat across from him at his table. with all eyes on you, harry looks away and at the front of the room towards professor rodden.
rodden had an indistinguishable look on his face about the situation, but quickly moved on with introducing the class. as he shut the door and began writing on the board, harry took a moment to look back at you.
somewhere in that time you had pulled out a book and ink pen as you began taking notes. your hair fell around your face as you concentrated on your penmanship; a slight furrow of your brows and pursing of your lips.
you were gorgeous. he couldn't deny it.
something about the way you got lost in your notes was so mesmerizing to him. the intense exchange between you and the professor seemed to have no effect on you as you continued to scrawl your thoughts onto parchment. harry couldn't imagine himself being so calm as to just begin jotting down notes immediately after such a conflict.
his eyes flickered from your concentrated expression to your ferociously moving hand, writing line by line in succession without so much as a second's pause. he had to admit he was impressed with you, but he wasn't quite sure how to describe it.
finally, you felt his curious gaze on you.
looking up at him, harry's struck with how beautiful your eyes were. his heart jumps along with his stomach, he's never had such a physical reaction to someone's features before. you're just, so…right. like everything about you just makes sense together.
harry's used to people recognizing him pretty quickly, mostly before he even sees them first. it almost feels like having a big sign taped to his back that says "harry potter, the boy who lived twice". but, you…you just looked at him. simply looking, nothing more.
he felt so see-through at that moment, like you were looking right past him. he could feel his heart thumping, and would be surprised if you couldn't hear it for yourself.
you give him the most casual smile in the world, barely an acknowledgement of his existence in that moment, and yet it fills him with something entirely warm and familiar. he's sure he looks completely lost staring at you, turning his head at the last moment to relieve you of his gaze.
it's a simple, introductory, first day of class. you're all let out half an hour early with no assignment other than to show up for the next, real class on wednesday.
as you're packing up to leave, harry is back and forth between introducing himself to you or letting you leave. surely you'll talk to him at some point during this class, right? especially if no one else seems to sit with you two for the rest of the semester.
but, as you turn your back to him to leave, he makes the split second decision that he can't let you leave without a proper introduction.
quickly gathering his books, harry follows you out the door along with the ridiculous amount of students flooding the halls. scrambling for a reason to talk to you, harry catches up to your left side as you look over at him with surprise.
"how does rodden have it out for you already, hm?"
it's a genuine question he has, but he's not sure it's a great topic to bring up during your first interaction.
looking up at him as you both walk away from the classroom, your cheeks go red as you chuckle dryly to yourself and look away. "oh, arthur?" you ask.
harry's shocked. not just at the way you're looking at him, but the boldness of calling your university professor by their first name so casually. he doesn't know how to respond.
"he's a total wanker," you say with a smirk. "had him 3 semesters in a row now and he just…ugh," you groan, rolling your eyes. harry is even more at a loss. he's surely never called anyone a wanker, let alone a professor, but he can't help himself from laughing at your frustration.
"oh? what's so bad about him?" harry asks as he continues to follow you outside, a cool breeze blowing your hair back in the most cinematic moment harry's ever experienced in real life. as you look up at him, your eyes catch the sunlight and practically melt him on the spot. his breathing hitches at your shy smile and rosy cheeks, and he just couldn't understand how a human could look like that so casually.
"honestly, he's not so bad. he's actually quite a good professor…" you say with a twinge of guilt, turning to look ahead of you. "he just doesn't like me, i guess. we don't see eye to eye, to put it kindly." you laugh it off.
harry doesn't understand. you seem like such a pleasure to be around, and he's only known you these past few minutes. how could anyone dislike you? especially when they're looking into those eyes.
he continues to walk with you, asking about your classes and what your schedule's like. no other classes together, to harry's disappointment, but it's because you're a year above him.
"wow, have any advice for a first year, then?" he asks. it feels like a bit of a silly question, but he just wants to keep talking to you.
you chuckle, like you do after everything he says. he's not sure what to make of it, hoping it's that you truly do find him that funny. "well, i guess i would just tell you to study constantly, keep to yourself, but don't take any shit." you smirk at him again.
he likes that advice. he can already tell you're the type to not let anyone push you around, like with rodden. he likes that about you. you're a bit more confident than him, and you're not afraid to be bold despite your naturally sweet, gentle nature. you're funny, witty, intelligent, and, of course, unbelievably beautiful.
harry just keeps coming back to it through your walking and talking together. every time he looks at you he instantly loses his place in time. it's like everything goes quiet for just that split second that you're looking at him. he's never felt like this, but he's practically addicted to the feeling after the 10 minutes it took for him to walk you to your next class.
before parting ways, he asks for your name. "well, it's nice to meet you then, [y/n]. i'm–" "harry, right?" you ask sarcastically, giving him a cheeky smile. normally that answer would have left him defeated, you already knowing who he was, but for some reason, it didn't feel so bad this time. you never acted like you knew him once this whole conversation. you just let him talk and ask questions without feeling like he was anyone special.
well, of course he felt special. when you looked at him, that is.
he didn't want to let you leave, it physically hurt him to say goodbye. but he wasn't about to creep you out already. no, he had to make a good impression with you. so, he simply turned around and walked away, knowing he would see you again soon.
and as harry walked to his potions class that next wednesday, he had the biggest pep in his step he's had in a while. you'd think there was a tree full of presents waiting for him in that classroom the way he practically jogged through the maze of people between him and you.
as soon as he walked in, he saw you.
how could you get even more beautiful than you were before? he's actually taken aback for a moment as he makes eye contact with you. his heart is so loud in his ears it's deafening. as he slowly makes his way towards the table left for you two, he can't help the goofy smile that spreads across his lips.
"[y/n]." he says, letting it roll of his tongue. you smile warmly at him, your eyes softening. "harry. it's nice to see you again," you chirp.
he's just mesmerized by you yet again, the way you say his name is like a song he never wants to turn off. he's pretty much in complete awe of you as he sits across from your seat.
you chat a bit before class starts, an introduction to your first experiment. professor rodden explains that each table of four will split into partners for each assignment. as harry instinctively looks at you, he's already meeting your eager gaze.
he can't help it when he smiles like a fool at you. he can just hardly believe someone as amazing as you would want to spend even more time with him.
after class, you gush to harry about how excited you are to be potion partners together. his face completely flushes as he tries to return the sentiment, thanking whatever luck he has in this universe to be deserving of this opportunity to be with you all semester, twice a week at least, not including outside studying and walking you to your next class.
that night, after exchanging numbers with you to "discuss class", he finds himself staring at the number you scrawled on a ripped piece of notebook paper along with your name. he just holds it for a while, tracing the curves of your name with his eyes. you're just so amazing to him in every little way.
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weeks later, harry is a wreck.
you see, he's become, well…completely obsessed with you. every moment he spends awake is spent thinking about you. in the midst of hours-long homework sessions or mind-numbingly long exams, all he wants to do is think about you.
you two have become increasingly close over time, figuring out your commonalities and learning about each other's interests. you invited him to your dorm and he was amazed at your ability to dress up such a desolate space. it felt warm, inviting, and quickly became a common place for you two to spend your time together.
you also bonded over food, and would often meet up for lunches or dinners and sometimes even breakfast if you were up early enough to respond to his calls.
and you two were always studying together, you really inspired him to stay on top of his classes not only to keep up with you but to also impress you. he really admired your work ethic as a second year and would always ask for your help with assignments.
of course it was nice to have help, but he mainly just wanted you to sit closer to him, your breath hitting his cheek as you explained something complicated to him in your soft voice, pointing at the book that sat in his lap. you could read the most boring textbook to him and make it sound like the most interesting piece of literature in the world.
a lot of things he did were mostly just an excuse to have you pay attention to him in some way. if he felt a bit unwell, he'd play it up a bit to get your sympathy and a back rub. he still gets the most insane goosebumps thinking about your hands all over him.
if he was hungry, he was suddenly starvinggg and needed one of your amazing grilled cheese's made in the student common room kitchen. you would roll your eyes every time, reminding him that you don't do anything special to it, but he insists it's better because you make it specifically for him.
in short, he was head over heels for you. he pretty much knew that first day you two met that he was already smitten with you, but it took a while for him to fully realize just how deep he'd gotten himself into this.
not only had he learned your entire class schedule without asking you directly, he knew your schedule outside of class as well. not through any disrespectful tactics, he just so happened to always study at the library next to your dorm building with a perfect view of the door you go in and out of.
he also knew who all of your friends were, at least the ones he's seen you with so far. it's not difficult when the university yearbook practically gives away their books for free to get rid of them. that's also how he found out what clubs and organizations you're apart of, and knew exactly what to ask you to get you to talk about them with him.
see, some might see this and think harry's a bit creepy or overstepping some boundaries. and harry would agree.
he constantly feels guilty when it comes to his feelings for you. he's a complete gentleman when he's with you, but then he turns around and becomes this incessant stalker who needs to know what you're doing at all times.
that's not even the worst part. he feels so, so incredibly guilty about the thoughts he has of you.
harry's not one to feel shame from lust or masturbation, he doesn't have much experience with that stuff anyways so he never really understood the hype around it.
but now, things are different.
he's had random erections before, and he's gotten riled up from previous makeout sessions, but now, he was constantly horny.
all it took was an innocent look from you and he was hard. you often sat in your bed with him as you two studied and insisted on having a leg or arm touching him at all times, which made him completely hot and bothered. certain tones of voice you use or things you say to him can completely melt his brain on the spot.
this isn't meant to brag, harry felt truly awful for these one-sided thoughts. he felt like such a stereotypical man who thinks with his dick. the last thing he wanted was to make you think he saw you in a sexual way at all; he hated your stories about guys who only turned out to be sex fiends with no respect towards you. his blood boiled to think about it, actually, and swore to himself he would always be your friend first despite what he may feel towards you.
this is where the guilt was heaviest. you were constantly saying he was your best mate, one of your closest friends, someone you can really trust, and he held that so close to his heart. above all else, he cared about you so deeply. he wanted to keep you safe.
so when he started to think these thoughts or feel these feelings, harry beat himself up. how could he truly be a good friend to you if he was just so obsessed with you in every way?
you two had just finished up the last steps of your potion experiment for professor rodden's class in the library that harry frequented by your dorm building. as you and harry are talking and packing up to leave, you look out the wall of windows and laugh.
"hey, look. you can see my dorm perfectly from here." you say, pointing towards your building. harry freezes, feeling his mind go blank as you look back at him with a laugh. "little creepy," you say with a smirk, lifting your bag over your shoulder and the rest of your books in your arms.
harry is still frozen, terrified you're going to somehow figure out that that's exactly what he's been doing for the past month now.
"yeah, weird." is all he managed to get out.
as he walks you into your dorm, he barely has the door closed before you start taking your shirt off right in front of him, not even 3 feet away.
harry immediately turns around, letting the door close in front of him. "oh, sorry." he quickly mutters, his heart racing yet again. he didn't even see anything crazy, just the small of your back and the navy of your bra, but it was enough to immediately get him worked up.
he hears you laugh behind him, opening up your drawer. "you don't have to turn around, harry. i'm just changing my shirt." he can hear the smirk in your voice.
he's dumbfounded. all he's thought about for weeks is your body in front of him, and it's right here, and he can't bring himself to look. he feels each second pass by painfully slow, trying to answer himself as to why the fuck he's not turning around.
"okay, you can turn around now." you laugh as you roll your eyes at him. he slowly turns to you with an undoubtedly pale face and shocked expression.
you're standing at your drawer, new shirt fully on, and he can't help but feel a bit disappointed. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable by watching, but you seemed okay with it. he's a bit lost in his feelings before you start asking him about something completely irrelevant, taking his mind off the mini-show he just got for free.
that night he's lying in bed, room completely dark except his bedside lamp, and he's thinking of you. like always.
as he replays the moment you took your shirt off right in front of his eyes, he finds himself grabbing for his cock without even meaning to. his hand wraps around the shaft as he begins thrusting his hips, imagining it's your hand like he has so many times before. it only takes a few seconds of stroking and thinking about your blue bra before he's made a mess of himself.
cleaning up afterwards was always the most guilt-ridden part of the entire experience. it was bad enough he thought of you sexually and constantly got hard just from you looking at him or calling him a loser as a joke, but to actually jerk off to the idea of you is something else entirely.
he tried not to get too down about it, plenty of guys do this right? whats so wrong with it if it doesn't affect his relationship with you?
except, it does. harry doesn't know how much longer he can go without telling you how he feels. the guilt he feels every time you refer to him as your best friend, not knowing he spends almost every night cleaning up his own cum off his chest just from thinking about your smile. how would you feel finding out your so-called best friend had these perverted thoughts about you?
as harry falls asleep, he hugs his pillow and pretends its you, asleep in his arms, completely safe.
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it's halloween, and harry's never been more excited.
you enthusiastically asked if you could do a matching costume with him, and he'd never been so quick to agree. wearing a matching costume with you to a university party was possibly the first step in becoming a real couple. he wasn't necessarily thrilled about going to a party, but he knew if he was with you he would enjoy himself no matter what.
you couldn't decide what you two should be until harry suggested pirates as a joke.
"oh my gosh, harry! that's perfect!" you said with a huge smile. harry laughed at you, shaking his head. "really? i was kidding." he deadpanned. you narrowed your eyes at him. "yes, really! i think it'd be so cute. and i have the perfect top."
harry gets excited once you say it's cute, and is just happy to be included in your plans.
you take harry shopping just a few days before the party to find pirate-like clothes and end up with a good collection of stuff. at the last minute, harry pays for everything you bought and you give him the biggest, warmest hug he's ever gotten.
yeah, that was enough for him to know this was worth it.
the night of the party, harry feels a bit ridiculous walking up to your dorm in such a billowy white button up and the most uncomfortable, oversized pants he's ever worn. to top it all off his bandana didn't look right on his head, so he embarrassingly knocked on your door and waited for your reaction to his failure of a costume.
when you opened the door, he was stunned into silence.
you were just. so. hot.
your hair was loose around your face under a perfectly tied bandana, an off-the-shoulder white top similar to his worn over a red lace bra, along with ripped fish net stockings under a tied skirt and, shit, a fucking garter wrapped around your thigh.
to say he was insanely turned on and completely stunned by your beauty was an understatement. he couldn't believe this gorgeous woman in front of him was dressed like this to match with him at a party in front of everyone. he just couldn't stop staring at you up and down, not caring if you noticed him practically drooling over you.
"you look so cute!" you exclaimed at the sight of harry standing at your door.
he looked up at you, your soft eyes wide with excitement as you clasped your hands together. you motioned for harry to come in and opened the door further for him. he slid past you into your dorm room, intentionally breathing in your scent as he did, and practically fell apart at the seams. he was so, so attracted to you right now.
"but, let me fix that bandana." you say with a giggle. he turns around and you're already reaching for his head. his breath gets caught in his throat as your arms wrap around his head, retying the bandana tightly just below his hairline. you pull away a bit and smile at him before looking down at his shirt, reaching for that as well.
harry carefully watched your fingers begin to unbutton his white shirt, his world stopping in its tracks in this moment. he was so lost until you said, "gotta show off the chest hair."
as you continue to adjust his shirt with the top buttons undone, he can't help but admire your body and outfit from this angle, this close. everything worked together so well on you, and fit you perfectly in every spot. he felt like such a joke standing next to you, who could ever compare to such a goddess like yourself?
on your way to the party just outside of campus, you felt chilly in just a skirt and cropped top. harry noticed instantly. "cold?" he asks. you nod, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you start to shiver. harry instinctively wraps an arm around you before he can even process what he's doing. "uh, is this any better?" he inquires.
you look up at him with those damn eyes, and he's lost once again. "a lot better." you say sweetly.
at the party, you stick with him for a bit until a few friends pull you away to do some shots. he gives you a reassuring smile as he tells you to go, and he watches your barely-covered ass as you run along.
and so do a few other guys.
harry notices at least 3 guys around him who watch you leave, and at least one of them makes some snide comment about you to a buddy. his blood boils like he's never felt before. he could feel himself tensing up as he imagined what he would do to them if they ever tried to touch you.
harry takes a deep breath and finds a bathroom, running some water over his face to calm down. you were not his girlfriend. not even close. but he felt like any other guy who looked at you was looking at what was his. he was there for you 24/7, he knew your favorite everything, he saw how beautiful you were in all your states, not just dressed up at some costume fraternity party, and though that gives him no right over you, he just couldn't help but feel protective over someone who means so much to him.
you find each other again at some point during the party, and you're a bit drunk. harry finds it somewhat amusing at first, but quickly hates the way those guys are looking at you again. so, he wraps your arm around his waist, tells you it's time to go home, and you mindlessly abide.
on the way home he's completely in awe at the feeling of your arm wrapped around his waist, and his around your shoulder. he felt like you looked like a proper couple, matching costumes and all, and he loved that thought.
as he walked you into your room, you immediately began stripping off your accessories. he was caught in that same predicament he found himself in not too long ago. does he casually let you unclothe in front of him or turn around and give you the privacy you deserve?
he quickly decided on the latter and turned away, making sure the door was locked for your privacy. you started giggling infectiously, stumbling around behind him. "you ok?" he asked with a smirk, amused at the sound of you struggling.
"no, need helppp," you whine, slurring your words slightly while still giggling. harry freezes. he hadn't even considered that you might be too drunk to get undressed by yourself. he's even more conflicted than before.
"m-my help?" he asked. obviously he knew the answer, he just didn't feel right taking your clothes off of you while you were intoxicated. "well duhh…" you giggled, taking another stumbling step behind him.
what should he do? if he says no you might feel like he's annoyed with you or doesn't want to help you out, when that couldn't be further from the truth.
before he can make a decision, you turned him around, his eyes landing on your glazed over eyes.
you had taken off the bandana and gotten your shirt partially off before asking harry for help. he's a bit startled to see you half dressed in front of him, but he quickly makes the decision to be professional and friendly about this situation.
he helps you take off your shirt the rest of the way, and unties your skirt around your waist. harry tries to divert his eyes as he does so to give you the most privacy possible in this moment, though his mind was pushing the most sinful thoughts he could muster.
his hands were shaky as he put both your skirt and top in the laundry, not even noticing how hard and fast his heart was beating until he took a moment to breathe.
just behind him, he hears you take a seat on your mattress. "can you take my shoesss pleaseee," you whine, sticking your left heel in the air towards harry.
the sight that beholds him in this moment is unholy.
you, practically naked except for your underwear and fishnet stockings, pointing a bright red heel at him with a pouty face as you wait for his help. he could devour you whole right here, right now. the fact that he hasn't kissed you yet tonight honestly had harry impressed with himself.
he nervously swallowed before reaching for your shoe, carefully sliding it off your foot as you gracefully lift the other leg towards him. he takes that heel as well and sets them next to your other shoes. he reaches in your closet for a big, comfy t-shirt and turns around to give it to you.
he sees you on your back, rolling around on the mattress, struggling to get your fishnets off, laughing to yourself as they get tangled on your legs. harry cant help but laugh at you as well, your carefree intoxicated state was just so adorable to him.
harry briefly helps you out of the stockings before handing you the t-shirt. "here, is this okay to sleep in?" he asks, putting the stockings on your dresser. "yeah!" you say cheerfully. "thanks, harryyy," you coo. harry immediately blushes, the way you carried out his name just made his heart sing. he was so lucky to be this close to you.
"gotta take this off," you say, pulling at the straps of your bra. harry nods and turns away. you giggle softly, grabbing for his hand. he turns to you in shock, looking down at your hand as you stand up from the bed.
"help me?" you ask seductively.
harry is frozen. are you meaning to be so overtly flirty right now? is this a bit from the alcohol? are you about to start laughing him off and put the shirt on anyway?
but you don't, you just patiently wait for his answer with puppy dog eyes. he glanced between you and the t-shirt in your hand, clearly a worried look taking over his expression.
"you don't have to," you say softly. that snaps harry out of his daze. "n-no, of course i'll help," he says eagerly. you smile again and turn around, gathering your hair to one side to get it out of the way for him.
harry has never been so aroused in his life. this is the most intimate he's ever been with anyone. he's never unclasped a bra before, and worries he's about to make a fool of himself in front of the most beautiful girl in the world.
but he soon figures it out and manages to unclasp it for you. "there you are," he assures you. you slowly turn around, your arms crossed in front of your chest as you hold the bra up. harry's completely infatuated with the delicious sight of you in front of him in this moment, but quickly diverts his gaze to an uninteresting part of the room.
"harry, do you want to see my boobs?"
harry snaps his head back at you with concern. his brows are furrowed and mouth agape. you have a genuine expression but your eyes are still a bit bloodshot.
"wh…what?" he choked out. he can't believe you asked that, even in this state. you've truly never showed interest in harry like this before, only subtle touches and looks that he interpreted how he wanted, but never anything like this.
well, unless you count the other day when you undressed near him.
but that was friendly, wasn't it? you were just changing, lots of friends change in front of each other. but this was completely different, you were purposefully exposing yourself to him. not only that, but you were asking him if you could, as if it wasn't the only thing he wanted in this moment.
"do you wanna see my boobs?" you ask again, giggling slightly.
harry blinks a few times, trying as hard as he can to not ogle over your body. this is all he's wanted, for months this is the only thing he's wanted, but right now just didn't feel right. you weren't fully aware of what you were doing or saying, and he couldn't, in good faith, continue further with this situation.
he carefully places his hands on your crossed arms, keeping them close to you as he talks.
"[y/n], you're drunk right now. and while i helped you get undressed, which was already a bit over the line, i don't want you to do something you'll regret."
you give him a look he can't quite decipher. your smile drops, your eyes focus, and your arms tense.
"i'm sorry," you say softly.
harry quickly reassures you. "don't be! seriously, don't be. i am so, so glad that you trust me enough to help you in this state. truly. it means the world to me, because i care about you so much." he gives you a warm smile.
you smile back at him. "then i hope you understand when i say i want to do this,"
you begin to pull your arms away from your chest, but harry is still holding them. he looks you in the eyes with worry, afraid of what you're about to do, yet more excited than he's been in a long time.
"but [y/n]..." he protests. "please?" you ask simply.
harry is reluctant, but he can tell you're going to be insistent, so he slowly lets go of your arms as you remove your bra from your body.
harry glances at your chest, his heart dropping. you're perfect.
perfect, perfect, perfect.
your skin looked so beautiful in the lowlight provided by your lamps and fairy lights. the curves of your boobs looked so soft and untouched. this was the first time harry was seeing tits in real life, and he was pretty sure this was the best they could possibly get.
he looks back up at your eyes, a shy smile spread across your expression. "beautiful…" harry whispers before he even realizes what he's saying.
you giggle, unfolding the shirt you handed him and swiftly pulling it over your head. "thanks, harry," you say so casually, turning around to make your bed so you can sleep in it.
he can hardly believe what's just happened. the girl of his dreams, the girl he'd practically been obsessed with for months, just willingly showed him her boobs for fun. though you were intoxicated and would most likely regret it tomorrow, hopefully not mad at him for letting it happen, he was still grateful that you felt that level of trust with him in any capacity.
what he wasn't grateful for, however, were these bloody pirate pants that gave him the most uncomfortable erection of his life. this was also definitely the hardest and most turned on he had ever been, so he's not sure if there's any comfort to be had in this moment anyway. while you focus on the bed, harry takes a step away and tries to calm himself down, thinking different thoughts to try and let the hornieness subside for just a bit longer.
as you plop into bed and begin getting comfortable, harry turns off a few lamps for you but keeps on the fairy lights in case you need the bathroom at any point.
"do you need anything before i head out, [y/n]?" he asks.
you sit up in your bed, a look of pain on your face.
"you're leaving me?"
harry is utterly heartbroken at the tone of your question. you sound so genuinely upset he immediately comes to comfort you, sitting on the edge of your mattress.
"oh, no, i-i won't if you don't want me to." he stumbles out. harry wasn't planning on staying, he was actually just imagining how good of a jerk he was about to have in 10 minutes, plus he's never technically stayed the night with you before. but he quickly pushes his perverted thoughts of you to the side and knows it's much more satisfying to him if he stays here and makes sure you're okay through the night.
you reach for the bandana that's still tied around his head and pull it off swiftly, leaving his hair disheveled. you throw it across the room with a laugh.
"sleepoverrrr" you cheer, patting the spot next to you on the bed. harry laughs with you, standing up and realizing he's still dressed as a pirate. "i didn't bring any clothes…" he says with a twinge of sadness.
you look at him confused. "you're a guy, just sleep naked." you say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. harry is a bit stunned at this statement but quickly laughs you off, going to your drawers to look for a pair of pants. besides, he's still slightly struggling with a situation in his boxers and being naked next to you wouldn't exactly help him out.
he eventually put together a shirt and pants combo that fit him comfortably enough to sleep in. "hope you don't mind," he says as he changes into them.
"not at all," you say, watching him change in the lowlight. there's something in your voice that makes harry feel feral, an overwhelming desire to just let go and release the tension between you two. at least, the tension he thinks is there.
he quickly gets dressed, setting his pirate clothes and glasses on your dresser as the sleep begins to settle into his bones. he crawls into bed next to you, and is quickly invited to join you under the covers. he's a bit reluctant at first, but realizes he doesn't have much of a choice as he starts getting cold.
within a few minutes of saying goodnight to each other, you and harry drift off to sleep together.
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you're the first one awake, a splitting headache and dry mouth creating an unpleasant feeling immediately after opening your eyes. you rub the sleep away from them and reach for a glass of water on the nightstand next to you, sitting up a bit to sip slowly.
"good morning," a deep voice rumbles just beside you. you instinctively jump a bit before your brain quickly recognizes harry's tone and accent. as you turn to him, he's adorably disheveled wearing one of your university crewnecks under your blanket.
he smiles at you. he looks so different without his glasses on.
"morning, harry," you say groggily. the moment doesn't last long before another wave of your headache hits you, causing you to rub your forehead. you groan in pain. "what happened last night?"
harry's a bit frozen. this is exactly what he was afraid was going to happen. you don't remember anything from last night. he should've just dropped you off here and left right away, not even letting there be a chance of anything happening.
he's brought out of his thoughts when you look back down at him, a look of curiosity in your eyes as you continue to rub your head.
harry also sits up a bit before climbing out of bed, putting his glasses on from the top of your dresser.
"well…" he starts out nervously, scratching his head. "we went to the party," he says as he begins to stretch his back out.
"oh yeah, the party. we were definitely the best costumes there." you recall the night fondly. harry laughs nervously, worried about how you're going to react when you find out he undressed you and even saw you nearly completely naked in such an intoxicated state.
"right, yeah, of course." harry chuckles dryly. "but, um…at some point you left me and started drinking, so we didn't stay for long." he says carefully, his mind racing as he slowly, nervously paces between your bed and your dresser.
"classic," you chuckle, reaching for a hairbrush as you begin to comb through your knotty hair. "thanks for bringing me home, harry," you smile at him.
the guilt twists in his stomach like a knife, he can't believe how innocent you are. but he also can't believe what happened between you two last night, and just how eager you seemed for it to happen. he has to stop thinking about it before he gets turned on again.
"of course, [y/n], but, um…" he takes a deep breath before he continues. "you look cute in my jumper, by the way," you interrupt him, standing up from your bed as you begin to collect toiletries to take a shower.
his brain fogs from the compliment, but doesn't let it distract him from what he knows he has to tell you.
"well, thank you, but, um…" harry says with a blush.
you give him a confused look. "what's up?" you ask him. he's just going to come right out and say it.
"look, [y/n], i don't know if you remember, but…you asked me to help you get undressed last night because you were too drunk," he spits out, trying to immediately gauge your reaction before continuing. you just give him an even more confused look. "oh, well, thank you then. is that okay?" you ask incredulously.
harry stiffens. "yeah, um…i didn't mind helping, of course, it's just…" you giggle, opening the door to your en suite bathroom that's barely bigger than the shower within it. "harry, you're such a dork. do you actually feel bad for taking care of me when i was drunk?" you ask sarcastically as you set down various lotions and hair products onto the sink.
he cracks a small smile at you calling him a dork, but it doesn't last long. his heart settles a bit after hearing your positive outlook on the situation so far, but it doesn't stop completely.
"it's not that, um…but, uh, afterwards, you, well, kind of…" he awkwardly tried to find the words.
"you…showed me your boobs." not the most eloquent way of putting it.
your face goes pale. his stomach drops immediately.
"n-not by my request or anything!" he quickly reassures you (and himself). "it's just, i told you you might regret it, but you were insisting on doing it anyways…" he doesn't want to feel like he's blaming you when he was the sober one in charge.
"oh…" you say despondent, seeming lost in your thoughts as you search his expression. he gives you a moment to process what he's said. "yeah…" is all he manages to say.
you sigh. "i'm sorry, harry. it was wrong of me to force that on you." your apology is so sincere, and it immediately confused harry. force that on him? bloody hell. you really had no memory of just how much he enjoyed himself in that moment. harry's sure he looked like a kid at a candy shop just staring at your beautiful body in the warm light.
"what? no! i-i'm sorry i let that happen," he responds with a ridiculous tone. "i was the sober one, i should've tried harder to–""to what? stop a drunk girl from showing her tits? yeah, good luck with that one." you laugh, cracking a joke.
harry's nerves are much more calm. he's insanely grateful that you seem to be taking this news well and aren't angry with him.
"look, harry…" you start, adjusting your shirt around your shoulders. harry's been stealing glances of your delicious thighs and legs every so often as you talked.
"i'm really grateful for you. just in general, but for last night especially. you helped me out, and you were a complete gentleman, at least from what i can remember…" you joke with him. he cracks a smile too.
"so don't stress about it, yeah?"
harry lets out a breath of relief, physically feeling the weight of the situation lift from his shoulders. "yeah, of course. i'm really grateful you trust me like that." he's in awe of your grace in this moment.
you smile, stepping over to the laundry next to your dresser. you grab a shirt and some pants from your closet, and, before harry even realizes what you're doing, you drop your underwear you were wearing last night to your ankles, stepping out of them and walking towards the bathroom again.
"gonna shower for a bit," you inform him as you close the door behind yourself.
harry's left behind, staring at the door before returning his gaze to your panties.
they're red, much like your bra from last night, and he remembers taking note of them to keep in his fantasies later for accuracy. but now, here they were, just laying right in front of him.
he finds himself still staring at them when he hears you turn the shower on and step inside, closing the sliding glass door behind you. he looks at the door, and looks back at your panties.
for a while he just looks at them incredulously, not entirely sure why this specific detail has made him so irrationally horny. you were completely naked on just the other side of this wall, but he's practically mesmerized by the image of you casually sliding your red panties down your legs right in front of him like it wasn't the most erotic thing he's ever witnessed in his whole life.
before he knows it, the shower turns off. he's still left staring at your red panties. as he shifts his weight, he can see that they're a bit wet and slick in the light from you wearing them all night.
he can't take it anymore. his erection from last night has returned with a vengeance this morning. before harry could even realize what he's doing, he's picked up your underwear carefully, holding them between his fingers, your wetness still soaking through the cotton.
his heart is racing as he hears you brushing your teeth. what is he doing? if you caught him being perverted with your panties like this after just reassuring him that he wasn't in the wrong for what happened last night, he'd surely be on your bad side. but he can't stop himself.
he brings them to his face and takes a slow, deep inhale.
you smell completely divine. slightly sweet, slightly bitter. he gets goosebumps just thinking about how you must really smell. his erection is raging beneath your sweatpants he put on last night, feeling incredibly dirty from being so turned on by your used panties.
his stolen pleasure is too quickly interrupted by the sound of the bathroom doorknob jiggling. shit. as you're about to open the door, harry panics and shoves your panties into the pocket of his sweatpants.
you come out with freshly damp hair and raw skin. the wonderful smell of your shower products fill the room as you brush through your hair casually.
harry keeps a hand in his pocket over the panties so you don't have the chance of catching him, and to better conceal the raging boner that's not going away anytime soon.
you don't say anything as you place your toiletries back in their rightful spots, humming to yourself as you comb through your hair occasionally.
so casually beautiful, so effortlessly pristine. you amazed him every time with just how ethereal you could be at any given moment. a freshly clean angel fluttering around the room without a care in the world.
you begin complaining of your hangover headache and ask harry to get food with you. he's more than willing, his stomach already growling in response for him.
at breakfast, you sit in silence with harry as you both hungrily devour the pancakes you ordered. harry got you two glasses of orange juice to keep you hydrated after last night.
after a while, you inform him you have to go study, and he offers to help you. "thanks, but i can't be distracted. this exam is going to kick my ass." you complained to him. harry gave you a look. "i distract you?"
you laugh at him, leaving him at the lunch hall with a simple, "goodbye, harry. call me later."
when harry gets to his dorm room, he realizes he's still wearing your clothes. and, shit, he's still got your panties in his pocket.
harry slowly reaches for them, feeling a twinge of guilt and lust once his hand finds the fabric. pulling them out, he's in shock that he actually stole a pair of your panties. to be fair he didn't intend to, he just panicked and wasn't thinking straight.
but, now that he has them…
keeping the red lace hanging from his fingers, harry climbs into bed and begins to remember those unforgettable moments with you just the night prior. it doesn't take much to get him just as riled up as before, imagining the moments he was undressing you in slow motion. taking your heels off as you looked up at him with the most seductive eyes in the world. seeing the flesh of your breasts for the first time in the dim lighting, imagining how they'd feel in his rough hands. god, he feels so bad finding pleasure in these moments, but he physically can't resist it.
his hand is already wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking slowly as to savor the memories flashing through his brain. he's been aching for this release since seeing you in your costume last night, just another memory that brings him closer to the edge.
finally, he slowly brings your panties to his face. though they've since dried in his pocket during breakfast and the walk home, the lingering smell is still enough to drive him wild. he's breathing them in like it's oxygen and he's drowning.
just as he's nearing the end, he brings the panties to his other hand and begins stroking his cock with them. the sight alone is enough to break him, his cum spilling onto his hand and all over your red panties as images of your half naked body continue to infest his brain.
this time, the immediate guilt was the worst it'd ever been.
as he began to clean up, he realized just how much he ruined your panties in his excitement. his cum had soaked through the thin fabric and was already drying around it. he cursed himself for ruining such a sacred momento that he should've cherished, but also quickly cursed himself for thinking that way about you in the first place.
you even said yourself that harry was being a perfect gentleman last night. yeah, a gentleman with a raging erection the entire night who steals your used panties for his sick pleasure…
he continues to clean himself up, putting your panties in a safe place where nobody can find them and he won't lose them. even just the thought of them being in his possession was enough to get him riled up again.
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it's the stressful time between thanksgiving and christmas where school has the two of you completely spread thin. harry's constantly writing essays while you seem to have endless lab experiments to finish for other classes. the one saving grace is your potions class together, twice a week. it's what kept harry sane during this chaotic time.
spending even just this short hour and 15 minutes with you is enough to fulfill harry. he hasn't properly hung out with you in nearly two weeks and was missing you like he was withdrawing.
sitting close to you to copy some notes about the potion you two are working on, harry admires your handwriting for the millionth time since he's met you. "i just don't understand how you write so well, i can barely read my own," harry jokes, holding out his notebook, making you laugh and blush.
the potion you're working on is one that allows the consumer to communicate with animals for a short period of time. it's rather complex, but harry helps you keep things organized and encourages you when you get frustrated.
"i just don't get it, how is it 3 drops and not 6? i swear it was 6 last week…" you groan, looking through your notes as you set down the tincture, rubbing your face, exasperated.
harry sets a reassuring hand on your arm. he's gotten pretty good at being more physical with you, and isn't afraid to touch you casually like you always have with him. "hey, [y/n], it's okay," he tells you, catching your eyes with his. "it's been a stressful week, yeah? just a mistake, no big deal."
you give harry that same, warm smile you delivered on your first day meeting him. he often looks back at that day fondly, forever grateful he got the sudden courage to talk to you after this class. not only were you now his closest friend, you were also the light of his life.
as harry finishes up, he hands you the round vial full of luminescent, purple potion. "here you are, test it out."
you take a small swig of it just as professor rodden makes his way to your and harry's table. next to the table is a bird's cage on a hook, with a sweet owl inside named jewel.
you make eye contact with the owl, and begin to speak. to you and everyone else it just sounds like regular english, but the owl begins to hoot and flap its wings at you immediately.
"hello, jewel, how are we feeling today?" you coo.
amazing, incredible, unbelievable! jewel's hoots become intelligible to your ear as you practically jump up and down with a huge smile on your face. "it worked, it worked!" you announced to harry, instinctively jumping in his arms for a hug as he spins you around excitedly.
"yes! you did it! see, i knew you could." harry exclaims, setting you down and giving you a toothy grin.
you look at jewel again, who is turning her head at you every which way. how nice, you and the boy! how sweet indeed! her loud hoots make the class silent as they watch you interact with her.
"what's she saying?" harry asks curiously. you give him a shy smile, feeling your face turn red. "she likes us." you're not totally lying.
"well, ms. [y/l/n], i must tell you i'm quite impressed. not just at how quickly you two perfected this potion, but of your performance this semester overall." professor rodden compliments you. he turns to harry. "i see mr. potter has been a positive influence on you this year."
harry quickly shuts him down. "actually, sir, if you don't mind me speaking out of turn, [y/n] has helped me way more this semester than i've helped her. she's brilliant."
professor rodden turns to you, a pale face and shocked expression, and gives you a smile. "well, then, hat's off to you, ms. [y/l/n]." he says, bowing to you before continuing with his rounds in the classroom. "thank you, professor rodden."
after class, you're all over harry, resting your head on him, hugging him, touching him randomly, but he's not complaining of course. he feels lucky enough that you're so comfortable around him as to be touchy feely.
"thank you, by the way. for what you said to rodden." you thank him as you two walk into your dorm room. harry takes his usual seat at your computer desk. "of course, i wasn't about to let that wanker give me credit for all of your hard work." harry says, laughing. he's become so much more confident with you, even using your lingo in his own vocabulary.
"no, really, thank you. just, for everything." you smile at him. "you're the best friend i could ever ask for."
harry feels his smile slightly falter. he's always reminded that that's all you are is friends, and while he's insanely grateful for your friendship, probably more than anything else in his life, he just can't help but feel a bit lost at this point. he's insanely attracted to you, ferociously protective over you, and, yet, can't bring himself to tell you any of this.
"you're welcome, [y/n], but if anything i should be thanking you. you don't even know how much you've helped me, not just with school but with everything. you're, like, the only friend i have at this point." harry laughs, but it's true. he's tried to make friends in other classes this year but has been disappointed each time, they're just not you.
you give harry a sad smile. "that's not true, ron and hermione are still your friends. more than that, they're practically your family." you walk over to him and run your hand through his hair, something you know he loves. he looks up at you slightly through his eyelashes.
"hermione's right, they'll come back to you one day. just give it some time, yeah?"
harry melts into your touch. nobody can settle his mind like you do. he didn't exactly look for pity from people, but you were someone he felt so safe with that he could be completely vulnerable in front of you. the reassurance and love that you provided him in these moments healed him in a way he didn't understand.
"right," he sighs, giving you the same sad smile.
you whine and pull his head into your chest, resting your own head on top of his. "awh, i hate seeing you so sad." you say sympathetically, still running your fingers through the back of his hair.
if harry's being completely honest, he's not sad at all anymore. how could he feel anything but pure bliss with his head buried in your sweater and your fingers leaving goosebumps throughout his scalp? he leans into you like a dog being pet, so desperate for your touch.
you stay like that with him for a while, just enjoying each other's company. harry found solace in your heartbeat, feeling truly at peace for the first time in weeks. "i've missed you." harry practically moans, intoxicated by your warm scent, his eyes fluttering closed.
you hum, smiling softly to yourself, feeling harry practically melt into your arms. "missed you too, harry," you coo, enjoying the feeling of being together.
"the semester's almost over, then it's christmas." you remind him, lifting your head as you look down at his closed eyes. he looks so peaceful resting against you.
harry smiles. almost christmas. but more importantly, almost your birthday.
harry very vividly remembers a conversation he had with you towards the beginning of your friendship about birthdays and how neither of you particularly enjoyed them.
your birthday fell close to christmas, so, inevitably, it became synonymous with christmas growing up. never really getting a separate party or separate presents, you learned to not expect much the actual day of, and to rather wait for christmas so you could be celebrated on the side.
harry was having none of this. he thinks you forgot about the conversation with him completely, but he's thought about it constantly since then. he's been planning on giving you a special birthday on your actual birthday this year, and he's practically dying to tell you. but he doesn't, and he won't, because it has to be a complete surprise.
"hm. christmas." is all he says, tilting his head back to look up at you. from every angle he finds you so fascinating, you just get prettier and prettier the more he truly looks at you.
you're gazing at him so gently, so warmly, your hand practically cradling his head against you. harry blinks and you're suddenly leaning forward, planting a soft kiss against his forehead.
harry could've died happy at that moment.
he brings his head away from your chest as you step away, soft smile and blushing cheeks. watching you turn and start folding laundry mindlessly, harry feels the lingering kiss tingling his skin.
for a brief moment, he imagines himself coming up to you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your neck, feeling you, pushing you to the bed…
harry quickly shakes his head, grinding his teeth at the horny urges he gets at the most simple actions. what other boys in university get an erection so quickly from a forehead kiss? sometimes harry felt like such a loser, not just with you, but with sex in general.
he never thought about it much before you, so it's not something he knows a lot about. he'd masturbated before, but not as often as he does now, or in the same way. usually he thought about making out with someone, maybe touching them, but now…he just felt so dirty, the things that his brain creates about you.
once you finish the laundry, you ask for his help to put stuff away. he's done this for you many times before, so he knows where you like everything to be.
he hangs up a few shirts and puts away some jeans and socks. he turns around to see you handing him a pile of your panties loosely stacked together. "here," you say as you're turned the other way, gathering another pile of clothes with your other arm.
harry is frozen for a second before reluctantly taking the underwear from you, immediately feeling his face flush.
he's instantly reminded of your panties sitting in his room right now. the panties he stole. the panties he masturbated with.
he's since washed them and keeps them out of guilt, partially, but he's not quite sure how to subtly return them to you. not like he wants to anytime soon.
as harry turns around and opens the drawer you put your panties in, he takes his time so he can admire all the different pairs in his hand. pinks, purples, reds, neutrals, blacks, he was practically holding a goldmine. it almost made him chuckle, the irony of you asking him to put these away.
he neatly tucks them into the drawer, admiring them one last time before slowly closing it.
for the first time that month, you and harry actually have the freetime to leave campus and get food together. your favorite diner is open all night and serves the best milkshakes either of you have ever had.
"how are we splitting the checks?" the older waitress asks, eyeing harry up and down. before you can say anything he tells her just one, handing her his card out of nowhere.
as she walks away you give him an evil look. "you don't always have to pay for everything, y'know? i'm perfectly capable of paying for myself or the both of us." you tease him. he smiles. "i know." he states simply.
you finish your milkshakes within minutes, handing your cherry to harry like you do every time. "cherry for harry," you always say. it always gets a smile out of him.
after a few minutes of chatting alone in the diner, the bell at the front door rings. you get a big smile across your face as you stand from the booth. "thomas?" you ask.
harry turns around to see a man in a quidditch uniform, his hair sweaty and book bag full to the brim. he's carrying his broomstick around, like a total tool if you ask harry, and gives you the cheekiest smile possible.
"[y/n]?" he asks.
harry could've killed him just for saying your name the way he did. like a predator hunting its prey again.
harry's anger immediately worsened when you practically jumped on this guy to give him a hug. nothing like the hug you gave harry in class today, he wants to note.
harry stood up, causing the guy to look at him. he had a scar as well, one from quidditch harry would assume. a slash across his left eye, healed but still somewhat recent.
you look back at harry as well, smiling at him. "harry, this is thomas." you introduce them.
yeah, he picked up on that. harry's face was red from anger.
he reluctantly steps forward, offering his hand to the douchebag who still kept a light hand on your shoulder. harry wanted to break his wrist when he went in for the handshake, but instead he offered a polite, "harry. nice to meet you."
the guy, thomas, gives a half smirk. "harry potter." he states matter-of-factly.
harry was sure his anger was visible at this point. it was enough that this guy was touching you and clearly had a past with you, but for him to pull the boy who lived card on him in front of you was enough to make his fists ball up.
"that's me." he says, his tone dripping in sarcasm.
there's an awkward moment of silence as harry continues to stare thomas down.
"so. how do you two know each other?" harry asks you, his tone and gaze softening just looking at you.
"oh! um…" you start nervously.
"we dated back in high school." thomas finishes for you.
of fucking course you did, harry thinks.
"yeah…for, like, 2 months…" you awkwardly laugh off, clearly not the most comfortable discussing this in front of harry.
thomas laughs with you as the waitress hands him a to-go box. "well, i'll see you guys around," he says as he hikes up his bookbag. "it was nice to see you again, [y/n]."
if looks could kill, this guy would've been dead long before he left out the door. harry knew he was visibly upset when you looked over at him.
"you okay harry?" you ask with a laugh.
he breaks, looking at you with a smile as he loosens his tight muscles. "sorry, i'm fine," he says.
as you both put your coats on to walk home, harry can't help but replay the interaction in his head. "dated…in high school…" "yeah…for, like, 2 months…"
harry's mind was swimming as you left the diner with him, walking into a light snow. "wow," you sigh, looking around you. harry looks up. it's beautiful out. the snow gives everything a light, soft look under the street lamps. he looks down at you and smiles at you admiring the scenery.
sometimes it scares harry how jealous he gets when it comes to you, and how quickly it can happen. that guy did nothing but say your name and give you a 2 second hug, and he actually dated you, so what right does harry have to get upset as just your friend? but all he can think about on the walk to your dorm is pummeling this guy's stupid face into the ground.
harry hadn't told you yet, but he had actually been going to the gym lately with all the time he had spent away from you during the busy school weeks. nothing too intense, he actually focused on boxing and lifting specifically because he wanted to be better prepared to protect you in case anything happened to you. and for self defense reasons, of course, but mainly for your benefit. he would do anything for you.
upon arriving at your dorm, you plop onto your mattress with a groan. "too much milkshake," you whine.
harry chuckles at you, shaking the snow out of his hair. "i told you not to get the large." he smirks. you frown at him, making him laugh again. "it's not funny! and you're wrong, i deserved a large after this month." you protest.
he laughs you off again, taking a peek at your alarm clock next to your bed. his eyes widen. "bloody hell, since when was it half past 11?" he asks astounded.
you laugh at his shock. "time flies when you're havin' fun,"
harry rubs his eyes. "if i don't leave now i won't get enough sleep to make it to my 9 a.m." he groans, not wanting his time with you to end yet again.
"nooo," you whine, clearly wanting the same. he gives you a sad look at your tone. "stay?" you ask.
harry's a bit taken aback. he hasn't stayed the night since the halloween party. thinking about that night for even a split second makes him break a sweat. it's his most replayed memory. he could even call it his sexual awakening at the ripe age of 19.
"stay? are you sure?" harry asks. you immediately nod your head, smiling at him. he can't say no to you, and he doesn't want to. he has no reason to leave, anything he needs is already here.
"well, if you insist." he smirks. you roll your eyes, taking off your jacket and hat and setting them in your closet. "i only insist because that snow is turning into a storm." you reply. you're not wrong, harry would've had to walk for 15 minutes through heavier and heavier snowfall, not to mention the windchill.
"well, thank you." he says. you smile back at him before reaching to take your shirt off. harry's seen you in multiple states of undress since the halloween party, so it's not uncommon for you to just change at any point during your conversations.
but that didn't make it any less pleasurable for harry.
sometimes he just sat back and watched like it was a personal show just for him. he would memorize the shape of your back and, shit, the curve of your ass. he watched as you pulled down your jeans, left in nothing but a bra and panties. he tried not to stare but it was impossible to look away for too long, your ass was just perfect to him.
before too long you unclasped the bra hooks behind your back and let the black fabric fall into the laundry. you slipped on a big t-shirt, your favorite thing to wear to bed, and harry caught just the slightest glimpse of your tits from behind you.
as you turned around, harry quickly began taking off his wet, snow covered converse to appear as though he wasn't just observing you like his own personal dirty magazine.
when he looked up, you were handing him some clothes to change into. he thanked you, grabbing them as he took off his jeans and sweatshirt. harry had also learned to be more comfortable changing around you, even if it wasn't as often.
harry put on the sweatpants and fresh pair of socks before realizing you hadn't given him a shirt. he looked over at you and you were already staring at him.
"harry, have you been working out?"
his face flushed, feeling exposed with just a pair of sweatpants on his hips. you were looking at his body with an expression of shock and amusement.
"u-um, yeah, a bit…just between classes, get some stress out." he's not entirely lying, but he could never tell you the real reason.
you smile at him, but a different smile than normal. you're almost…nervous? you've never been nervous around harry, even when you two first met.
"you look…good…" you say with a slight crack in your voice, still looking at him. harry can feel his blood pumping, and he knows that can only lead to an eventual erection, so he turns around casually pretending to fold his jeans. "oh, thanks," he tries to say casually.
he can still feel your eyes on him as he hangs his sweatshirt on your coat rack. "damn, harry. you're like…ripped." you say with genuine shock in your voice.
harry turns towards you, but you're fixated on his exposed torso. he nervously laughs, not sure how to respond. of course he thought getting stronger would mean his body would inevitably look better, but he cared more about his ability to fight off any creeps he needed to in order to keep you safe. however, he hadn't necessarily considered your reaction to his transformation. he had somewhat forgotten you also saw him change his clothes that halloween night. he thought you had forgotten too.
"i don't know about that," he laughs awkwardly.
you just giggle and look away, shaking your head. you climb into bed and invite him next to you. harry accepts and joins you beneath the covers, turning off a lamp beside him.
after a few moments of silence, harry could hear your shallow, even breaths indicating you're asleep. he looked down at you, peaceful, beautiful. he sat up as gently as possible and placed a soft kiss to your forehead. "goodnight, [y/n]."
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it was finally your birthday.
harry had been planning this day for weeks. he made sure to ask you way ahead of schedule when you would be seeing family so he could time everything perfectly.
he had completely set up your room to look like a birthday party for a kid. balloons, streamers, a birthday cake and ice cream, presents, even fun plates and napkins.
you should be coming home from going out to eat with your parents for brunch in about 10 minutes. harry made sure to call you before you left early in the morning to be the first to wish you a happy birthday.
as he was waiting for you to arrive, he made sure everything was perfect, down to the last balloon. he had put your favorite cd on and even lit a candle. he's not quite sure why, he just felt like it was right.
soon enough, he could hear your keys on the other side of your door letting yourself in, so harry positioned himself beside your bed and waited eagerly for the reaction he'd been thinking about for months.
when you open the door, you're a bit startled to see him at first. "surprise!" he says with a suppressed smile, trying to contain his excitement.
your eyes slowly examine the room, your jaw dropping as you bring a hand to your heart. "harry…" you choke out in a small voice, still noticing different details around you as the door closes behind you.
"happy birthday." he says lovingly, taking in every second of your realization.
"you…how did you…" you can't even get the words out as you set down your purse and coat on your bed next to your presents from harry.
"i've been planning this for weeks. i wanted to give you the birthday you never had." he tells you.
you look at him with tears in your eyes, quickly looking away and towards your dresser. "you got me a cake…" you say tearfully, walking up to the custom cake he had placed an order for an entire week ago.
"we also have reservations for the diner at 5. if you'd join me, of course." harry smirks. you chuckle at him, jumping in his arms and enveloping him in a hug. "thank you…" you begin to cry into his shoulder.
harry holds you tight, dazed from your scent and enjoying the softness of your hair. he rubs your back softly as you get the tears out, letting you know it's okay.
you pull away, wiping your tears as you laugh at yourself. "sorry, i just…this is so amazing of you harry."
"don't be sorry. i'm glad you love it." he reassures you, making you smile. "let's have some cake, hm?"
after some cake and ice cream as well as messing with the balloons and party favors, it was time for harry's favorite part. the presents.
he sat you both down on your bed and savored each reaction you had to each present. every thank you was followed by, "how did you know i wanted this?" "how much was this?" "how did you get this?"
harry had his ways. and again, he would do anything for you.
his last present for you, though, was the most important. he kept it beside him until the very end, handing it to you with a shy smile. you lifted the lid off the box to reveal a beautiful necklace, one he saw you looking at multiple times while out shopping with you.
you were speechless. you looked at harry with the most genuine expression of shock, gratitude, and confusion. "harry…" you gasp. "you got this for me?" you ask.
harry chuckles. "do you like it?" he asks, already knowing the answer.
"harry…you really shouldn't have…" you tell him, staring at the necklace in your lap. he smiles even bigger, the look on your face was already enough to convince him it was worth it. it was all worth it. "here, i'll put it on you."
you hand harry the necklace, turning and scooting towards him as you hold your hair to the side for him. he's immediately reminded of the night he helped you take your bra off.
he clasps the necklace together and you turn towards him, looking down at it with him. "wow, it looks great." he says with a smile.
you look up at him, your faces nearly touching. harry can barely process your beauty before you lean in for a soft kiss against his lips.
harry's completely frozen, not knowing what to do or what's even happening.
when you pull back, harry can barely breathe.
you look up at him, your eyes soft and eager. harry can't hold himself back anymore. you've kissed him first, that's all the permission he needs for now.
he lightly grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for a bigger, deeper kiss. soon enough, you're making out with harry in your bed.
he's a bit rusty when it comes to kissing, but he plays it safe with you and keeps it soft and light. your hands have traveled to harry's neck and hair, pulling him closer to you.
after a minute or so, harry pulls away. "i love you, [y/n]." he admits. he just couldn't keep it in for much longer.
your eyes light up, a shy smile on your lips as you read his expression. "oh, harry. i love you, too." you reply breathlessly.
the kissing becomes more and more heated as you eventually push harry back onto your pillows. he's surprised, and completely aroused, trying to ignore his growing erection from simply kissing you.
you climb on top of him, the visual making harry sweat already. as you lean in to continue the kiss, your legs end up on either side of him, straddling his torso.
harry is at a loss. he never imagined his birthday surprise for you would end like this. did you really mean you loved him? like, loved loved him?
his hands went to your hips, savoring the feeling of your weight on top of him, his pants becoming more and more uncomfortable. eventually, he can feel your hips slowly rock back and forth on his lap.
he pulls away from the kiss, looking at you above him with wonder. it was everything he could've imagined. even better than the constant fantasies he had of you.
"is this okay?" you ask him softly, searching his eyes, grinding your hips into his a bit slower than before.
harry looks at you incredulously. "[y/n], this is all i've wanted for so long. please. use me." the desperation in his voice surprises him, he knew he wanted you this bad but he couldn't believe how quickly you had him begging.
you practically moaned at his desperate request. "fuck," you whisper as you go in for another kiss.
harry guides your hips into his, and he's sure you can feel just how hard he is through his jeans. you're softly moaning into the kiss, stopping to catch your breath every so often as harry slightly thrusts his hips into you, desperate for more.
"oh, harry…" you moan, causing his eyes to roll in ecstasy. for so long he imagined how you'd sound moaning his name just for him, and he's more than happy with the real thing.
"you're so beautiful, darling," harry says, reaching for your flushed cheek.
you whimper at his voice, tangling a hand in his hair. "tell me again." you demand him.
shit. harry could seriously cum just from that. he's doing everything he can to keep this going as long as possible, but he's not sure how much longer he'll last under you.
"beautiful. so, so beautiful." he says between heavy breaths, watching your incredible body grind onto him for pleasure. "you have no idea how badly i've needed you," he looks back into your eyes, half shut with pleasure as you continue to blush.
"touch me." you tell him, putting your hair behind your shoulders. he looks up at you slowly moving up and down on his lap. he could watch you do this for hours. a dream come true.
one hand slowly makes its way towards your tits, massaging one through your clothes. harry's head rolls back in pleasure, hardly believing this was his real life. involuntary moans slip through his lips as you continue to dry hump him.
"fuck, harry…" you whimper, kissing him again. he can feel the necklace he got you against his hand as he continue to feel your tits. everything about this was perfect. as far as he was concerned, right now, in this moment, you were his and only his.
"i-i…i think i'm gonna cum…" you tell him between kissing. his hands grip you tighter, all he wants to do is please you, be the reason for your ecstasy.
"please, [y/n], please cum for me," he begs of you, feeling his own body tipping over the edge. you look him in the eyes, your hand on his cheek as your breathing gets more rapid and uneven.
you're whimpering, desperately grinding for relief on harry's jeans as he feels himself about to cum. "harry, please…" you beg.
harry slightly thrusts into you, meeting your rhythm as he pulls you closer to him. you begin to shake in his grip, your eyes and jaw going lax as your whimpers become breathless. your hand finds one of his and interlocks your fingers together. you squeeze his hand as you ride out your high. he's completely enthralled with your face and body's reaction to him. he could be here forever, letting you use his body for pleasure, and he would hurt anyone who tried to stop him.
as you start to come down from your climax, harry gently pulls you in for a weak kiss. you crawl beside him, hiding your face in his chest as you continue to catch your breath.
"that was…so hot…" you manage to say between breaths. harry laughs softly, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss on your head. "you're amazing." is all he can say.
"so…did you…?" you shyly start to ask. "yes. i came in my pants." harry admits, hiding his face in your hair. you can't help but laugh a bit, looking down at his jeans. he looks down and sees a dark spot near the zipper.
"oh." you say, clearly amused. "how couldn't i? i had the most beautiful woman in the world orgasming on my lap." harry smirks.
you hide your face in his chest again, giggling. you look up at him with dilated eyes, flushed cheeks, and sore lips in a small smile. "i really do love you, harry," you speak softly.
"i love you too, [y/n]."
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it's the day after christmas, and you and harry had spent the holiday with your family. he loved your parents, and got on well with your siblings. he had even rented a room at a local inn near the area for you two to stay in. a private place to escape the chaos and have some alone time.
you and harry were practically all over each other all the time at this point. he couldn't help himself, all he ever wanted was to kiss you and now he could, whenever he wanted, and he was going to take advantage of that.
it was your last day at the inn, a cozy cottage type place with the softest beds you've ever slept in, and harry paid for all of it before you even knew about it. "merry christmas," he had told you.
you were eating your complimentary breakfasts together in silence, across from each other at the little table in the corner of the room.
"thank you, again, harry. this was a wonderful idea." you said as you finished your orange juice, admiring the snowfall out of the window. "it's so beautiful here."
"you're beautiful."
you give harry a look, but crack a smile. "and you're cheesy."
harry chuckles, admiring you like he always does. his soft eyes and kind smile give you butterflies.
as you're packing your clothes to get ready to leave, harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. you smile, giggling, continuing to pack your suitcase. his lips end up on your neck, but you ignore him as you put your panties inside the bag.
harry laughs to himself. you look over at him. "what?" you ask with a smile. he's blushing, shaking his head. "nothing, nothing." he continues to laugh.
"tell me," you say. he shakes his head again. "no, its…it's weird." he says. you can hear a bit of shame in his voice as he hides his face in your neck again. "harry, tell me. please?"
he can't resist when you ask nicely.
he sighs, taking a step away from you and sitting on the bed next to your suitcase. "well…" he starts, rubbing his face nervously. "um, after the halloween party…" he trails off.
"yes…?" you ask, amused at his shy demeanor.
"u-uh, the morning after, when you took a shower…" harry recalls, shifting his weight. "i may have, um…stolen your underwear you took off in front of me…." he cringes at his words, turning his head away from you.
"i knew it!" you declared, pushing his shoulder.
harry covered his face completely, feeling like he could burst into tears at any moment from the embarrassment.
"god, that's so bloody hot, harry," you practically moan, pushing his arms to the side and sitting in his lap. he's completely red in the face, bewildered by your reaction.
"wh…what?" he asks breathlessly.
you hold his face in your hands, admiring his shy expression as you sink into him. "you don't find that weird? or creepy? or extremely perverted?" harry asks you incredulously.
you giggle at him, your eyes full of love. "yes, harry, stealing my used panties behind my back is very perverted. if you did that to any other girl they may find it really disturbing." harry's heart drops, his eyes focused on you completely. "but, i like you. i've really liked you for a long time. and…i find it so fucking hot just how desperate you were for me…"
harry's heart is immediately pumping at your words. you wrap your arms around his neck as you force a kiss on him, his hands grabbing your waist with a hunger.
after a moment he pulls back, nervously blinking and clearing his throat. "um, that's not all, though," he says regretfully. you give him a curious look. "i might've, um…used the panties to masturbate…" he admits.
you smile at his nervousness, biting your lip and giving him a desperate look. "oh, harry, tell me what it was like…" you moan as you begin kissing his neck.
harry's voice is caught, his head rolling back in pure bliss. sometimes he still can't believe this is real life.
you continue to bite at his neck, leaving marks as harry tries to find the words. "i, um…" his hand travels to your ass. "well, i smelled them first…" you moan against his skin, your legs tightening around him. "go on…" you say with a smile.
harry's trying to focus on the story without getting distracted by your lips. "they smelled so good, and you almost caught me, so i put them in my pocket," harry fights back a moan.
"so naughty," you tease him, pushing him onto his back. "tell me more." you demand.
harry nervously swallows at the sight of you above him. you hadn't done anything since your birthday just a few days previous, but it was all harry could think about. he missed the feeling of you being above him, using him, telling him what to do.
"when i got home, i immediately started jerking off thinking about undressing you, seeing your tits for the first time, smelling your panties, i felt so dirty because you told me i was such a gentleman that night…" harry rambles. something about revealing his perverted obsession with you as you're on his lap makes his erection harden.
he grabs for your thighs, sighing at how heavenly they feel in his hands. "then, i just…wrapped your panties around my dick…and i came on them, almost instantly…" harry reveals, the embarrassment fueling his lust.
you're practically aching for harry listening to his story, watching him become desperate for you once again. he's falling apart in your hands and you just can't get enough of it.
"god, harry, that's so hot…you were so obsessed with me…" you say as you lean into his lips, your bodies entangled on the bed.
harry pulls away, holding your face in his hands gently. "i still am, [y/n]." he says sincerely, admiring your eyes. "so, so obsessed…you have no idea…"
you gaze longingly at him, melting his heart. after a moment you kiss him passionately, savoring his eagerness.
"well…would you like these panties too?" you ask with a smirk, putting his hand on your ass. he looks up at you with begging eyes. "please," he says so softly.
soon you're sat on the edge of the bed, harry pulling down your pants with the fireplace lit behind him. he's looking at you so tenderly, taking in every part of you, constantly reminding you how much he loves you, and how beautiful you are.
you open your legs for him as he kneels in front of you, his eyes fluttering from your face to your panties, which are undoubtedly wet from hearing harry's perverted stories.
his mouth is watering just looking at you.
he gently kisses your thighs, higher and higher until he reaches your panties, taking a moment to look back up at you. you're intently watching him, a blush spreading across your face. you look so pretty from here, a view he's daydreamed about plenty of times.
he buries his face in your smell, moaning, taking you in completely, eyes drooping shut as he feels complete bliss overcome him.
you whimper at his reaction, a hand reaching for his hair as he comes back to earth. he reaches for your panties when he pauses, looking up at you shyly.
"i-i've never done this before." he admits.
you giggle at him lovingly. "i know, harry. it's okay. i haven't either." you reassure him, reaching for his glasses and setting them beside you. he smiles shyly and lays his head on your thigh, letting your hand tangle itself in his hair, memorizing this angle of you.
"just enjoy yourself."
harry blushes at that sentiment. he was enjoying himself no matter what, with you he was always happy, especially in moments like this.
but harry more than enjoyed himself. he had always fantasized what it would be like to eat your pussy, your hand in his hair as you ride his face and cum in his mouth. what he didn't expect was just how intimate it felt with you, the soft whimpers that escaped your mouth, having your legs rest on his shoulders, practically making out with your pussy while you writhe with pleasure beneath his hands.
you were both a bit unsure at first, awkward smiles and laughs and reassuring touches, before harry eventually lost himself in the act. he paid close attention to your reactions, your facial expressions, trying to figure out the best way to pleasure you. he loved feeling you get more and more wet for him by the minute, he couldn't get enough of you.
harry didn't want to stop. cumming once wasn't enough for him. he ignored your begging for him to wait, please, it's too much, holding your hands down with his own as he continued for several more minutes. he had waited so long to finally do this for you, showing you just how badly he wanted you. his dick was aching from how hard it was. this was easily the most turned on he'd been for you so far, watching and hearing you orgasm because of him, on his face, he was convinced there was nothing more enjoyable or desirable than this.
"harry, god damn it…" you sighed. he stayed between your legs in the same position, leaving loving and longing kisses on your thighs and stomach, enjoying the aftershocks your body was having in response to him, looking at you with hunger in his eyes.
"yes?" he asks innocently, still admiring your delicious pussy. "harry, i can barely move…" you whine, your body aching and sore. harry smiles devilishly at your weakness, loving the effect he's come to have on you.
he kisses up your body, leaving a desperate kiss on your lips as you taste yourself on him.
"that was even better than i ever imagined it could be," harry practically growls. you giggle at him, your eyes tired and lips bitten.
you look down at harry and see his throbbing erection through his pants. you look back at him, and offer to return the favor.
"oh, honey, you don't have to, you should rest…" harry insists, stroking your hair out of your face. but you're not backing down, and you at least convince him to let you help him out.
he lays next to you on the bed, shirt and pants off as you start feeling his dick through his briefs. harry's instantly desperate under your touch, realizing just how long he's waited for this moment, no longer having to imagine his own hand as yours.
"[y/n]..." harry moans, his eyes filled with lust as he looks over at you. you. blushing, beautiful, natural you. "i swear i could cum just looking at you."
you giggle at harry again, blushing into his chest as your hand continues to stroke him. you look back up at him innocently, admiring the look of desperation he couldn't hide. reaching for a kiss, harry moans softly into your mouth, his dick twitching in your hand.
"oh god…" harry whines, his head falling back in pleasure. you can tell he's close, just from light touching and barely any kissing. you can't help but giggle at his state, loving the control you have over him.
"go ahead, baby, cum for me," you whisper seductively.
that's all it takes for harry.
trying his best to keep his eyes on you, he comes completely undone under your touch. his breathing becomes completely ragged, breathy whimpers, vaguely trying to say your name the longer you stroked him. similar to how he kept going with you, you didn't back down. he begged you to stop, but you could tell he didn't really want you to stop any time soon. you kiss him to quiet his begging, continuing to overstimulate him until he came for a second time, ruining his briefs for good.
after cleaning yourselves up, harry gives you the longest, warmest, most loving hug you've ever received in your life. you bury your head in his chest, taking in the feeling and smell of his skin. his, now muscular, arms are wrapped tightly around you, holding you like harry had nothing left in this world but you.
"i love you, so much, and i'm so thankful for you." harry says, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.
you hug him even tighter. "i love you, harry,"
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by the time next semester starts, you and harry are full-blown boyfriend and girlfriend, constantly holding hands wherever you two go and seeing each other off to your classes or study sessions. people talked amongst themselves about the harry potter having a girlfriend, but you both paid no mind.
being with you has really made harry come out of his shell. by the time spring sports roll around, harry feels confident enough to try out for the university's quidditch team. with your support, of course.
it was never a question that he'd make the team, he instantly became their new seeker and brought the school out of their losing streak. through this, harry also made tons of friends, real friends, who wanted to get to know him outside of being harry potter.
not to mention that you had become his number one fan, showing up to every game and most practices to cheer on your best friend and help him strategize for future games.
in every aspect, harry's life completely changed for the better. he loved his classes, he loved his team, and above all else, he loved you, and felt like he owed everything he had to you.
the only thing that bothered harry anymore was that jerk you dated and introduced him to at the diner, thomas.
thomas hadn't made the quidditch team this season, and he made it very clear that he blamed harry for that. he tried spreading a rumor that harry paid his way in, but people didn't buy it after seeing just how well harry played every game.
but that's not what bothered harry. what bothered him was the way thomas used you to get to him.
everyone knew you and harry were dating. it was the topic of conversation on campus for nearly a week when everyone found out. so why is it that every time thomas talked to you when he saw you alone you had to remind him that no, you can't hang out sometime soon, you have a boyfriend now? to harry it felt personal, and he didn't like it.
it was one of the most important quidditch matches of the season, it determined the university's qualification for finals. harry was on top of his game, especially seeing you cheering for him in the stands, and won the match easily, being celebrated by his team on the field.
after taking a few photos and congratulating the rest of the players, harry eagerly runs to meet you at your usual spot just beside the stands to get his usual post-win kiss.
what he finds instead makes him see red.
thomas. he has you completely backed up to the stands, a clearly heated conversation going on between you two. harry can tell you're pissed just by looking at you, speaking with your hands and trying to walk away but being stopped by thomas each time. finally you push him away, and he grabs you.
that's all harry needs to see before he begins sprinting towards him, his mind racing a million miles an hour and yet completely blank at the same time.
you had managed to push thomas off of you, now yelling at him to get the fuck away from you before you rock his shit.
before you can even try, harry tackles thomas to the ground and begins rocking his shit for you.
you gasped. "harry! stop!" you tell him, not wanting him to get caught and punished. but harry doesn't stop. you've never seen this anger from him. it's like he can't stop, not showing any signs of fatigue or resistance.
"harry! stop!" you yell at him, grabbing him from behind and pulling him away. harry stops punching thomas, only to stand above him and kick him in the stomach. "harry." you warn him, giving him a concerned look. "stop. you'll get expelled." you tell him in a hushed tone.
harry looks at you, softening, coming back to earth as you motion for him to just walk away with you. harry looks down at thomas, a bleeding mess in the dirt, crying in the fetal position.
harry kneels next to thomas, making him flinch. harry points his wand at him and mutters quickly, "episkey."
thomas's nose fixes itself, his cuts heal, and his stomach bruise lightens. he looks at harry incredulously, feeling no physical pain, but in fear of the threat harry posed.
"don't ever fucking touch her again. do you understand? next time i won't be so nice." harry growls. thomas quickly nods his head, desperate to leave. harry stands up, sneering at him still in the dirt. "and don't talk to me either while you're at it." you add at the end, your voice just as intimidating as harry's. "got that?" harry asks sarcastically. thomas nods again, standing up and running away from harry.
as he turns to you, you notice his bloody nose, multiple cuts from the game, and bruised knuckles. "oh, harry," you coo sympathetically, grabbing his hands and examining them. "come on. let's go home."
and by home, you meant to your house. the university had upgraded your room and board in exchange for you to work for them as a professor's assistant in potions. it was a small cottage just outside of campus, one bedroom, one bathroom, but it was enough for you and harry.
walking into your living room, you send harry to the bathroom as you lock the door behind you and drop your stuff off on the dining table. you grab a rag from the kitchen and get it wet with warm water.
you enter the bathroom to see a shirtless harry already attempting to clean a wound on his chest. you can see his reflection in the mirror and are completely infatuated with his focused, bloody face concentrated on his reflection as he tends to his injury.
you come up behind him, barely able to rest your chin on his tall, broad shoulders. his reflection instantly softens, his muscles relaxing.
you turn him around, cleaning the wounds on his chest, arms, and hands. his knuckles were bruised, nothing a spell couldn't fix. "you're lucky you didn't break anything." you remind him.
he watches you so intently. your gentle, caring touch bringing him instant relief. even now, all these months later, you still mesmerize him every day. he's not sure he'll ever get used to having you for himself. but that's just what you were, for himself.
"i wanted to kill him. i would've killed him." harry reminds you, rubbing his knuckles. "sit, please," you ask quietly, pulling him over to the closed toilet. harry sits down, letting out a groan as his entire body aches from quidditch and nearly killing someone.
he looks up at you, his eyes dark and angry again just thinking about it before softening at you. you bring the rag to his face, wiping away blood and dirt from his scars. a tense silence falls between you two. harry can't tell if you're angry at him for what he did. he has no idea why, that thomas kid was dead meat as soon as he decided to touch you.
as you carefully finish cleaning the last of the dirt off harry's face, you notice how tenderly he's watching you. you sigh, holding his face in your hands.
"i'm not mad at you." you say. he swears you can read him like a book.
"but, you could've gotten in serious trouble. or hurt yourself. i just don't want to be the reason you're down." you explain, rubbing a thumb along his cheek.
"i would do anything for you." he reminds you, his hand finding yours.
you smile warmly at him. you can't stay upset with him for very long.
"then do this for me: stay out of trouble."
harry smiles. no promises.
as you're getting ready for bed, harry walks in from his shower in just a pair of shorts. you walk up to him, running your hands along his torso to make sure his scars are sufficiently clean. and to just admire your boyfriend in general.
harry revealed to you some time back his real reason for working out. you found it sweet, but a bit silly, as you could handle yourself perfectly well. however, tonight, harry proved you wrong. though you were never in immediate danger or physical harm, as far as you knew, it still felt really nice to know he had your back when things got scary.
while working out definitely helped his strength, quidditch is what really made his body so exceptional.
he was perfectly toned, incredibly strong, and more buff than he ever had been his entire life. you were never someone to have a thing for muscular guys, but something about watching harry's body get better and better with time just drove you crazy.
"you know," you start off, resting your hands on his chest. you could feel his heart racing. all this time later and he's still such a nervous wreck for you.
"i may not approve of it, but…i can't deny how fucking sexy you looked beating thomas up for me,"
harry could feel his blood boil just from you mentioning that douchebag's name, but he was somewhat distracted by your observation.
"oh, really?" he smirks, grabbing your waist possessively. you instantly have goosebumps, leaning into harry's tight grip. "mhm. i haven't stopped thinking about it…you in your quidditch uniform, your muscles, the anger in your voice…" you practically swoon for him.
harry blushes, but takes advantage of the situation. "i was seeing red." he recalls. "i was seriously going to fucking kill that loser for even thinking he could touch my girl."
you're instantly turned on by his fierce protectiveness. normally you find harry's jealousy funny, since he has no reason to ever worry about you, but tonight it made you see a completely different side of him…
harry was always so soft and careful with you, and was a normally mild-tempered person with everyone. the only time he really got upset was if someone was getting too comfortable with you too quickly. to see him completely lose his cool, to watch him unleash onto this guy who thought he could just grab you…
you were just so, so attracted to him right now.
"yes, your girl, all yours," you reassure him as you lean in for a kiss. he quickly takes control and brings you to your bed, laying you down with haste. "mine. mine. mine." he reminds you between sloppy kisses.
the lingering anger within harry needs to be released, immediately.
he quickly undresses you, a complete 180 of the old harry who was afraid to help you take off your bra. he practically rips your panties in half trying to get them off of you.
you're already soaking wet from his aggression. he smirks at you. "guess i should get angry more, yeah?" harry teases.
you blush, but you wouldn't exactly be against it.
as harry slowly begins thrusting into you, he feels that familiar bliss overcome him like it does every time he's inside of you.
you and harry have had sex a couple times before, mostly slow and passionate with lots of kissing, enjoying each other's bodies and intimacy.
but this time, harry was hungry for you.
not to say he never is. he might always be hungry for you, quite literally. but this time, he lets the hunger consume him.
harry's thrusts become less careful and more desperate, he leaves dark, aching bites all over your chest, marking what's his. "mine. mine. mine." he reminds you between each bite.
you're in a state of pure ecstasy. you didn't know harry could be so rough with you. his desperation usually came in the form of shy begging, whimpering, and a desire to please. but this kind of desperation was aggressive, jealous, and aimed to please himself. you didn't mind, you thought it was bloody hot. you also wanted to help harry get his anger out, and you were the perfect way to do that.
as his thrusts become more possessive and sloppy, his arms rest on either side of you, the sight above you enough to make your orgasm accelerate. a sweaty, tired, aching harry, desperate to prove something to you, looking at you like you're the first meal he's had in years. his muscles flexing, veins popping out, and his breathing becomes labored.
he can feel you tightening around him and quickened his pace. "harry, harry, i'm cumming," you warn him, whining, desperate for a release.
"that's right, cum for me, baby." he groans in your ear, wrapping his arms around you as he continues pounding into you relentlessly.
watching you fall apart under him is enough to send him over the edge himself. his head is buried in your neck as he breathes heavily, moaning your name in your own ear.
"fuck, i'm gonna cum inside you, baby. can you let me do that?" harry asks you, his sweaty face desperate for your approval. you nod quickly, eager to be his release in anyway you can.
"can you take it? can you be a good girl for me?" harry loves to dirty talk, and this is the hottest it's been yet.
"please, harry, please give it to me, please, please, i need you," you beg harry, grabbing his shoulders, feeling your body prepare for its second orgasm.
"take it, baby, take it, god, you feel so good," he groans into your ear, his hips stuttering as he cums deep inside you.
your body convulses from the feeling and watching harry melt into you. his face is relieved of all anger, his eyes soft and full of love for you as he leans in to give you a sloppy kiss.
he steps back, watching his cum drip out of you, and could easily get turned on again just by the sight of you right now. but he's too tired, and he knows he has lots of time with you to do it all over again.
after cleaning up and crawling into bed, harry holds you against his chest. you're asleep in no time, steady breaths and slight snores coming from your peaceful expression. harry wraps his arm around you before leaving a kiss on top of your head.
"i love you, [y/n]. goodnight."
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[if you actually read through all of this, i salute you. if you actually enjoyed it, pls let me know. i definitely want to post more like this in the future so i always appreciate any feedback <3 thank you!!! happy new year btw lol]
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i just noticed oscar doesn’t get many requests (and mick so i’m gonna request for him after!) but what about Oscar and Lucas rocking up to the paddock in matching outfits and the media just absolutely loving it!
Note: I found it comes in waves, sort of - depending on how everything is going on, a certain driver will have more requests and others won't! I remember there was a week where I only had Mick requests for big pieces and I wanted to space them out with other driver requests and it was tricky - and now I haven't had many Mick requests! I haven't been writing for Oscar for long, so that might have something to do with it too! Feel free to ask for whoever you want, how many times you want 🫶🤍✨️
"Did Oscar Piastri take a fairy potion to make him tiny?", Zak gasped as he saw Oscar and Lucas walk into the paddock wearing matching outfits, "it's just me, Lucas!", your son said as he walked along with Oscar, you following behind as you took in the moment.
By the time you got to the hospitality, the social media team were already wanting to film a few videos, remembering trends with videos and effects they could add to turn little Lucas into Oscar and the other way around, "do you want to film some videos, Lucas?", you asked your son, "mummy will be here the whole time", you tranquilized as he seemed to feel better, nodding and letting Sophie help him.
"I'm dressed like daddy today, I really wanted to match him so I asked mummy if I had a green t-shirt and she said I did! And also, mummy's dress also has a green flower here", he pointed to the detail on the hem of your dress, "so we're all matching in a way", he explained, "daddy! Sophie wants a photo of us!", he ran up to Oscar, jumping on his arms.
The content was posted as the fans were loving it, comments flooding the videos and Instagram stories replies.
Lucas is a little Oscar clone, especially today that they have the same hoodie and shorts 🥺
I can't deal with the cuteness, he laughs just like Oscar! 🫠
@ my future husband : just know that you'll have to match our kids at least once a week, idc, it has to happen 🥲
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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avocado-writing · 3 months
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Okay, I've had this idea bouncing around in my head, waiting for you to reopen suggestions, haha. How do you think the Origins Companions + Halsin, Rolan, Dammon, and Zevlor would react if they found out that Tav had been hiding a very serious injury from them? The kind of injury where Tav is convinced that they're fine and they don't want to worry anyone with something they can handle on their own, especially the people they care most for, but as they try to ignore the injury it only gets worse until it's potentially life threatening and they can't keep up the facade anymore. I will leave it up to you whether or not Tav and the other individual are in a romantic relationship. I think both ways have potential for wonderful angst 😆
ooohhh noooooo! but also oh yes, LOVE this sort of angst lol. written as if you have had an infection come on from an injury. this is gonna be a long list so let's buckle up...
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Astarion
really tries to hide his panic but fails miserably.
can't help but start snapping - how could you keep something like this from him?
you try to give your excuses but he waves them away, angry, but mostly because he's terrified that he might have lost you.
if he has any healing potions he helps you take them, if he doesn't he immediately... sources some from somewhere.
holds you as tight as he dares, worried that he will aggravate the injury otherwise.
as you begin to heal and drift off to sleep he spends the whole night watching you rest, making sure that you're still breathing, still safe. doesn't mind when you cuddle up to him in the night, sleepily.
Gale
curses himself for not noticing your condition. he's a wizard, damn it! he's meant to be bloody perceptive.
wishes for the first time ever that he didn't just know wizard spells. wishes he knew how to heal, too.
makes you as comfortable as he can while he finds a book about what he can do for an infected wound, probably swallowing his pride and going to Shadowheart if it's bad enough.
you manage a weak, "Gale, you don't have to--", and he cuts you off, "if you're going to insist that I don't have to look after you, I'm telling you that I do."
fixes you something to help with the pain and infection, makes sure you drink it all despite the horrid taste, then tucks you into his bedroll to let you rest.
when you go to reach out and cuddle him he slips into your arms, presses his lips to your hair, and whispers as you fall asleep about how much you scared him. about how he'd never be able to lose you.
Lae'zel
only realises how unwell you are when you fall over mid-journey.
"tsk'va! why did you hide the extent of your injuries from me?"
hauls you onto her back and carries you back to camp, muttering about your foolishness the whole time.
makes you comfortable in her tent and uses her knowledge of githyanki medicine to help start healing you.
it isn't comfortable as she works on your infection but for the first time you feel her hands being soft rather than vicious.
"you should not have kept this from me." "I know. I'm sorry." "hm. ridiculous thing. zhak vo'n'fynh duj."
goes and intimidates the camp into being quiet so you can rest. it works. this is the nicest she's ever been to you. you could get used to it.
Shadowheart
obviously this is not a huge problem for her, but she is still worried that it got so far without her noticing.
immediately heals you, pouring far too many spell slots into your body in order to get it up and running again.
it helps, immediately breaking the fever you've been nursing, and the touch of Shadowheart's hand to your face is cooling and reassuring.
"lady shar teaches us to embrace our pain... but not like this. you should have known better. you could have died."
her hand slips down to cup your cheek, you cover it with one of your own. she's telling you off but you can tell it's because she cares.
"I'm sorry that I scared you." "I know. don't do it again."
she smiles and the ache in your heart is lifted, too.
Wyll
panics.
you collapse on day in camp and he immediately calls on the others for help, not so proud as to be unable to admit when something is out of his knowledge. he is not a healer. he needs help.
he manages to catch you in his arms as you tumble, hugging you close to his chest while magic is worked or a healer checks you over.
lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding when you begin to stabilise.
helps you back to your tent to rest, gently chiding you but letting you know that he's glad you're alright.
when your hand weakly comes up to touch him, he indulges you in a kiss to let you know how relieved he is.
constantly watching you on the battlefield from that moment on. if he can help it, you'll never be hurt again.
Karlach
another panicker.
scoops you up in her arms and holds you to her chest, running to the tent of the nearest healer in camp - or, if you're in the city, kicking down the door of a local doctor.
begging the healer to check you over, but is reluctant to let you go. if she stops holding you it's like she's relinquishing control and that scares the life out of her.
you're healed and she feels you start to stir in her arms, peppering you with kisses of relief, choking through her tears that you're never to scare her like that again.
carries you back home, even if you're totally capable of walking. she just wants to make sure you're okay.
Halsin
sternly disappointed that you didn't tell him, but more annoyed that he didn't notice something was wrong himself. how could he not see how out of balance with nature you were?
squirrels you away to his tent to heal you, make you soothing and medicinal teas, his big hands over the source of the infection.
you burrow into his touch, into his chest, and you end up sitting in his lap as he heals you.
he wants to tell you off a little, but is more relieved that you're alright. encourages you to share all your burdens with him.
kisses you on the forehead, then on the mouth when he's sure you're strong enough for it not to knock you flat.
Dammon
my poor boy is just a blacksmith, so though he doesn't exactly panic, he does scoop you up and try to find a healer as soon as he can.
waits quietly and nervously as you are examined, silently cursing himself for being too busy to see how you were hurt. he's meant to be better than this. he's meant to love you, how didn't he notice?
when you come to he can't stop apologising, and it takes several of your kisses to soothe him and tell him it was not his fault but yours.
he makes you promise that you'll always tell him when you're hurt. has you look into his eyes and swear it.
he can't do much on the battlefield but he can protect you where he can.
Rolan
another one cursing that he doesn't know healing spells.
"you aren't meant to die, gods damn it! you're meant to be strong... what good am I if I can't keep you safe..."
rushes you to the best doctor in Baldur's Gate. pays for all the treatment that you could need. holds your hand at your bedside for your entire recovery... until you come back to consciousness, of course, at which point he just starts telling you off for being stupid enough to get into his mess in the first place.
you grab him by the collar and drag him down for a kiss. that finally shuts him up. but he never lets you forget how foolish you were.
Zevlor
practical but still worried about you.
you collapse in the field and he finds a safe place to hide the both of you from dangerous eyes, using his Lay on Hands ability to channel his magic into healing.
you try to apologise but a finger to your lips silences you, and all you can do is watch in quiet wonder as he burns the infection out with his Paladin's light.
when you're better he gently chides you. tells you that you have people relying on your leadership, and that a problem shared means there are more heads working on how to fix it.
when he sees how sorry you are lets you cuddle into him. when you say you'll repay him, he insists your happiness and well-being is enough for an old warrior like him.
does take the kiss you offer, though. he's been wanting to do that for a while...
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fieldofdaisiies · 6 months
Text
Alone
ship: Theodore Nott x Hufflepuff!Reader type: angst/fluff word count: 2,6k words warnings: mentions of racist parents, awful parent child relationship, talk of war and Death Eaters summary: Y/N and Theo are childhood friends, when she receives a howler from her mother that breaks her, he is there for her. (I'll blame @azrielscrown for her amazing Theo stories and hence making me want to write about him, and also @moonlightazriel for the tiktok videos she sent me hahaha)
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It is quiet. So very quiet. All of a sudden everyone stops talking. There aren’t even any hushed whispers. Nothing.
It is so quite that one could hear a needle drop. 
So quiet that even the mice in the smallest nooks and corners of the castle could hear your mother’s voice blaring out of the howler that has just unfolded itself in front of you. Its tongue poking out, the howler spats the exact same words your mother shouted into it in your family manor.
The words drip with venom. Disdain and disappointment lace every spoken syllable. 
Your blood runs cold, your chin quivering, as you watch and listen in absolute shock. Your whole body has gone rigid, you don't even dare turn to glance around, not wanting to see the either mocking or pitiful looks of your school mates. 
How would she know? How does she know? And why is she so mad? 
It was just a school project, not your decision to spend time with him. You had to spend time with Harry Potter — it was for a Potions project, preparing a recipe, trying it out and then presenting it in class. It was project where you were assigned partners. A project where you were forced to spend time together. And even if you don't hate Harry, you would not have chosen to do the project. But you had no choice.
'The shame you brought upon this family by being sorted into Hufflepuff.'
There is a pause, and it is so long, so dreadful, so painful, and you just hope the letter won’t continue talking. Maybe it is over and the letter will just rip itself into shreds — the same shreds your heart has been ripped into when the letter started howling.
Or maybe a hole in the ground will open, and swallow you wholly? A ghost will appear and take you with him? A giant will crash both you and the letter?
But your prayers are ignored. Of course they are…
'And now, now you are doing partner work with him? Spending your free afternoons with him? What comes next? Dating a Muggle? Marrying one?'
'Y/N Y/L/N, in this house I allow none of that!'
Your best friend slides her hand into your cold one, squeezing it tightly. She is the purest and kindest soul Hufflepuff house has ever seen and in this very moment you are more grateful to have her than ever before. She somehow grounds you, stops your body from shaking or convulsing fully. 
'I am deeply disappointed. So very much. What you do to this family, the shame you bring upon us.'
That’s how the letter ends. No well wishes, no goodbye, no I love you, no motherly love. Nothing.
You are shocked, sad, embarrassed — feeling too much. Too many emotions. Your heart can’t take them, can’t deal with them all at once and you know you have to leave, get away, escape. Cry. And be alone. 
You need to get out of the Great Hall. And that right now. 
You know your friends want to support you, comfort you, but sometimes you just need to be alone.
Your voice sounds choked, throat constricted, as you climb over the bench, the howler still in pieces on the table.
"I am sorry, I need to be alone now." You run, weaving your way through the pupils crowded in the Great Hall and the corridors outside. Tears start to burn behind your eyes, clouding your vision and your throat starts to burn. 
You run, run until your feet ache, slumping down on the ground, sliding down the ball. And then the damn breaks. Hot, burning tears rolling down your cheeks, as one ragged sob after the other leaves you. 
It hurts so much, growing up in a family like this. It is so painful. Your mother's words, laced with venom, still reverberate through your mind, loud and awful, filling every fibre of your being. A cool shiver makes its way down your spine, making you shiver. 
You draw in a deep inhale, your breathing shaky, lower lip quivering. Closing your eyes, you let your head rest against the wall, replaying every single word she said to you. 
The eerie silence of the corridor and your calm sobs are suddenly interrupted by the faint echo of footsteps nearing. You have no time to make guesses who it could be, finding you sitting behind a corner, back pressed against the wall to almost become invisible. 
"Are you…alright?"
It is strange seeing him like this. He is always so confident, so cocky, arrogant, silver-tongued. And not so…reserved, and at a loss for words. Your desperate state has probably shocked him, you think, trying to hold his gaze, but the tears are coming back again. 
"I am…fine," you croak, the lie in your voice louder than the Howler you received earlier. 
Theo breathes out a cold chuckle. "That was the worst lie I've ever heard, Y/N."
His voice is flat, his expression stoic. He just looks at you, his normally confident demeanour nowhere in sight. "And I thought you Hufflepuffs are those goody-two-shoes who never lie."
You watch how the corner of his mouth tips upwards, but only shortly. He quickly presses his lips in a thin line, something he has always done when thinking deeply. A crease appears on his forehead, eyes solely focused on you.
You have known Theo basically since the day you were born. He is two months older than you, both of you coming from noble pureblood families, your father's had once been good friends, are still probably, but you don't really know. When you were placed in Hufflepuff…things changed. 
Also the friendship with Theo changed. He got distanced, you did too. Being friends with him was somehow no longer possible, and still isn't. You are not rude towards each other, he also always stayed out when the Slytherins mocked you and your housemates, but he has also never sought you out to spend time with you…and neither did you.
You have been growing apart and this is alright — some friendships are not forever. Or at least that is what you always tell yourself. 
"I…I just had to get out."
He nods, slowly, and in understanding. "I always come here when I want to be alone."
"Yes, that is why I am here, I want to be alone." You hope he gets the memo…that you want to be alone. Fully alone.
Not deigning him another look, you bury your face in your hands again, knees pulled up to your chest. It is not in your nature to be rude to anyone, but…
"I know I should probably leave…" But he moves closer.
"I heard what the howler said and I don’t really want to—"
"Everyone heard what the Howler said." A humourless chuckle escapes you and you lift your head. Theo is already looking at you, his eyes, meeting your red and puffy ones. Pain flashes in his eyes, bright and stark and you feel yourself shiver.
He nods slowly, almost like he wants to tell you it is not the truth, hoping it will ease the pain and discomfort a little, but he says nothing. And that for a long moment. Until—
He closes the distance between the two of you, claiming the spot on the ground beside you. 
"I am sorry," he says, stretching out his long legs and leaning his head against the stone wall behind him. "I am so sorry for what she said and that everyone had to hear."
"It is not your fault, you don't have to apologise." You furrow your brows as you turn to look at him. 
His eyes are filled with concern. You can still feel the embarrassment, the way the entire hall had turned to watch as the red envelope exploded in a blaze of your mother's fury and rage. Everyone became witness to your misery…
You swallow hard, trying to push the memory aside, but it lingers like an illness that just won't get better. 
"Y/N," Theo says, his voice softer than what you are used to. "I can't believe she sent you this letter…"
"Howler," you correct him, wearing a forced smile.
The corner of his mouth curls up, and he casually runs a hand through his hair. "Indeed, a Howler, you smartass."
You chuckle, and playfully nudge him with your elbow. But then you shake your head, take a deep breath and shrug."You know how she is. Always expecting more, always disappointed in me."
Theo reaches out, his hand brushing gently against yours. He does not take your hand into his, just rests it next to yours on the ground, your pinkies touching. "You don't have to listen to her, Y/N. You're so much more than what she thinks of you."
You draw in a shaky breath, thankful about his presence.
Funny, you think. You would not have thought that exactly his presence would bring you so much comfort now. You had wanted to be alone just moments before, but talking to him feels somehow good. "Thank you," you say.
He smiles. "Of course." But he does not look away, keeps holding your gaze, his hand shifting the tiniest bit, his pinkie finger now placed on top of yours.
The dimly lit sconces cast eerie flickers of light upon the stone walls, and also on you two. His lashes look longer in this light, casting shadows across his cheeks, his eyes looking so much deeper. And soon you realise you are staring at him. 
It feels like he leans closer, but you could also be mistaken.. And yet, his presence wraps around you, like a gentle embrace or a warm winter coat. And, with his voice barely above a whisper, Theo says. "You deserve so much better than this."
Tears glisten in your eyes once more. His gaze is intense, filled with an emotion you have not really seen on him before. "Thank you for being here for me."
"I am your friend, of course I am." 
Your expression must have given you away.
He huffs, and lowers his chin to his chest. "Well, at least I hope we are still friends…"
For a long moment silence stretches out between you because first of all, you did not expect that statement and secondly, you don't know how to answer.
Are you really friends? Still?
You’ve doubted it in the past years, you’ve never talked to each other, unless you had to do so in class. You’ve never spent time together. This is not what you would call a friendship. 
"I don't know, are we?" you answer honestly, and a small smile appears on his face. "I can't blame you for not considering me your friend anymore…"
It is still strange seeing him like this. He has never been like this…so vulnerable somehow. 
"I know I should have been here for you so much more in these past years."
This is not at all what you expected, and it confuses you greatly. Is he blaming himself for not being here? You also did not reach out to him, you did not seek him out, and you are in different houses.
"There is no blame on you!" Your voice is stronger, firmer, wanting him to see that it is absolute bullshit that he is talking. "Why would you say something like this?"
He shrugs. "I am…" He does not continue, only draws in a deep inhale, and leans his head against the wall. His eyes close for a moment.
There has always been a connection between you, a connection that is still somehow there, even though you might no longer be friends. The kind of friends you once used to be.
You also lean back against the wall, your own eyes closing, his finger still touching yours. It is such a tiny gesture, but you feel it everywhere. Feel him so strongly. 
Theo breaks the silence, his voice quieter when he says. "Y/N, I want you to know...I've always cared about you more than just a friend."
Your heart skips a beat, and you open your eyes, turn your head and look up at him, your eyes meeting his gaze. "Theo..."
"I know it's complicated," he continues, his hand now flipping yours over and taking it into his. "I can't pretend anymore. And seriously, if Draco or Blaise would see me like that right now…stumbling over my own words, they would call me the biggest fool on this planet, but I need you to know…"
He groans almost like in frustration, and squeezes your hand. 
"In Salazar's name, why is this so fucking hard?" A chuckle escapes him, but you only look at him, not sure if you are ready for his confession. 
"I'm in love with you, Y/N. And I have been for the longest time."
Your breath catches in your throat, and a mixture of emotions swirls within you, a whirlwind starting for a whole new reason now. "Theo, I..." You hesitate, not sure what to say.
He smiles and shakes his head. "You don't have to say anything right now. I just needed you to know. And if you ever need someone to talk to, to be there for you, I'll always be here, I want you to know this."
This is a side of him, you think, only you know. And only you know since this very moment. He has never been like this before, he is not like that to others and it makes your chest warm from the inside. 
Tears well up in your eyes again, but this time they're not tears of sadness — they’re tears of happiness and comfort. Without thinking you throw your arms around Theo and hug him tightly, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "Thank you, Theo. I... I really care about you too. I want you to know this."
He holds you close, his hand gently rubbing your back. "What happened today, and what is maybe about to come…we'll get through this together. You are not alone in this. I know you have your Hufflepuff friends, but you also have me."
He holds you tightly, and for as long as it takes the pain of the former happenings to ease. The weight of the howler and your mother's hurtful words begins to fade, replaced by the knowledge that you have someone who cares deeply for you by your side. His words and his confession were like balm to your soul, and they make you smile, even when you thought you wouldn't be smiling much this day. 
"I am really glad to have you back in my life."
He smiles, a genuine and adorable smile that makes your heart flutter. "I have always been in your life. Maybe we weren't that close, but our bond has always been there."
You nod, and draw in a deep inhale. "You are right."
When more pupils file into the corridors, you know lessons are probably soon about to start. You give his hand a final squeeze and slowly get up. "I'll see you later, Theo."
He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. "Take care, Y/N. I'll see you for lunch?"
You nod, a smile on your lips and his eyes momentarily dip to them.
With one last smile, you turn and head toward the Hufflepuff common room, your heart lighter. You know you can talk to him about the issues in your family, and he will listen, because he understands. Understands the pure blood nobility and problems.  And maybe, just maybe, there is also a chance for something more between the two of you in the future. He, after all, already confessed his love for you. 
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paper-mario-wiki · 5 months
Text
Shangri-La Frontier mid-season review
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This is by far the best fake video game I've ever seen written in fiction.
Most MMO-centric isekai stories have trouble with providing accurate and realistic depictions of the complexities and minutia that give MMOs the allure they have. I've seen so much handwavey bullshit tacked onto fake-games that introduce unrealistically overlooked mechanics for reasons like giving the protag immense power just because they're the protag and the story is about them. A good example of this is another MMO Isekai airing this season, "A Playthrough of a Certain Dude's VRMMO Life", wherein the main character becomes extremely rich, powerful, and famous by episode 2 because he stumbled into a stealth archer playstyle, a build which apparently no human in that universe had ever conceived of before, and then making a fortune by selling basic potions to everyone after NPCs stopped selling them (another thing he was uniquely able to do because not a single other player had the forethought to spec into alchemy). These lesser, dime-a-dozen isekai add up to be boring fantasy strories with gaming elements clumsily put in so that the author can demonstrate how powerful the world's inhabitants are by showing their stat allocation screen instead of, say, explaining anything about what they do that's so uniquely powerful and how they figured it out. Ya know, stuff you'd hope to hear about from any competent story.
Shangri-La Frontier is a breath of fresh air for anyone who, like me, is sick of authors ignoring the things that actually make video games compelling in service of creating a stock-standard narratives in fantasy worlds because it allows them to get away with bullshit. I've always found it very convenient that many isekai narratives indulge in things like chattel slavery, because it's societally normal enough for the protag to purchase a beautiful, vulnerable girl to add to his harem (dont worry, she is always inexplicably in love with him no matter what because he's SUCH a kind master). And it never really seems to go anywhere. Because the Video Game Isekai, while an interesting premise in theory, is more often than not used exclusively as a means to simplify the structure of a world's power scaling to abide by an arbitrary set of omnipresent universal rules (e.g. what people who have never cared to look into game development think of video games). This anime, by comparison, is VERY clearly authored by someone who plays a LOT of games.
Every piece of logic used to drive the plot forward, so far, is congruent to a real-world example of video game conventions, and I'm not just talking about levelling up and selling monster parts. Story elements that I've rarely (if ever) seen explored in other isekai are ever-present and genuinely clever and amusingly introduced. My favorite example of this so far has been the way the protagonist has been able to go head to head with so many overlevelled foes in the first 9 episodes. The story of course makes note of how good of a gamer Sanraku (our hero) is, but much like in real life games, being super duper good at dodging attacks doesn't really make up for a 70 level gap in items and learned skills. For that reason, he gets his ass whooped more often than he actually outsmarts others (so far he hasn't beaten a single player in pvp). So how is he getting out of these situations without dying so frequently? Simple: he got access to a later area too early relative to his level (sequence break) and got access to a high level follower NPC that's been carrying him. This is something he acknowledges directly several times, specifically using words like "Emul has been hard-carrying me for a while." This, to me, is extraordinarily meaningful. That's something you can exploit in Skyrim, man. That's REALISTIC CHEESE STRATS. The excitement and wonder I find in this show doesn't come from watching the protag do something unexpected, but by watching him do something that I would think to do.
This knowledge the author has demonstrated regarding modern gaming culture extends further into the actual realistic nature of game design and community. The story exists in a reality where full-dive VRMMOs are the be-all-end-all of gaming, and given the prohibitively expensive nature of developing and designing expansive, immersive worlds, most games are pretty shit. It's been hinted at so far that this is due to a monopolistic megacorp which is one of the only entities rich and powerful enough to make a good game (the game in question being the one that shares the title of the anime), but so far the strife of the characters have been pretty centralized to the happenings of the game world and its politics. By the way, lets talk about the game world's player base politics, which I'm also quite pleased with. It exists in the form of guilds and clans who struggle for power not by participating in seemingly random pvp with other powerful players to see who is the most epic and badass warrior (again, like many contemporary isekai typically opt for), but by gaining actual realistic support from a fictional playerbase with realistic desires and playstyles. Some guilds are interested in lore, some gather for alliance and boss raids, some for things like animal husbandry, and (naturally) at least one is dedicated to trolling and PKing. Each of these factions, through the very little that we've seen of them so far, communicate on forums and only know as much as is reasonable for them to know. The only reason they give a shit about the protagonist at all is because he gained access to a high-level unique scenario quest that they want information on how to access, and the only reason word of that got out in the first place was because someone posted a screenshot of him with a unique NPC onto a forum, asking about it as "where can i find this pet summon, its super cute!" That's real. That's video games, baby.
I like this show a lot so far. I like that it cares about video games, but I also like its writing. I like the main character and how hes less of an ultra badass super cool guy, and more of an earnest challenge-run lets player. Like, a lot of his dialogue straight up sounds strikingly similar to Japanese youtubers. And he's naturally always quick to point out inconsistencies in the game world's logic. I ALSO really like his community of pals from a janky old fighting game, and I ADORE the girl from his school who has a crush on him and also just so happens to be an exceptionally high level player from a top clan, and how she had to spend 9 episodes working up the courage to send him a friend request. I love that so, so much, dude.
I highly recommend this show if you're into a single thing I've mentioned. The animation is great. The world is beautiful. The character design is immaculate. And I'm looking forward to watching it continue.
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firstfirerebel · 8 months
Text
𝕳𝖎𝖘
Sumary: Tom Riddle is obsessed with reader and won't tolerate her being somewhere else than his side (Reader is against the hate on Muggles or Muggle-Born wizards)
Pairing: yandere Adult!Tom Riddle/Voldemort x fem! reader
Warnings: Dark content, obsession, mention of the three Unforgivable Curses, implied kidnapping, death, yandere, toxic behavior
Time: First Wizarding War (meaning Voldemort/Tom is still a normal man)
English is not my native language!
I DO NOT SUPPORT OR ROMANTICIZE YANDERE BEHAVIOR!!!
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"Why won't you just understand that all I want to do is create a new world, a better one. One were you, and I will rule together!"
"But I don't want that! In fact, I don't even want to be near you! I'll never join you nor support you. Just give up already and let me free!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was another day in the Malfoy Manor where you were captured by none other than the dark lord himself. And another day, where you just hoped to escape or die. Sounds harsh? Listen to your story first...
You have known Tom since your Hogwarts time. You weren't in the same house but in the same year, and even though you weren't close, you did happen to have some lessons together. Never you would've considered him a friend. He was just a classmate who sometimes helped you with potions, and in your free time, you sometimes met him in the libary by coincidence, but that was it.
Yeah, you did find him attractive, but you would have never thought to date him or something like that. After all, he always wanted to be alone and didn't like company. You also preferred being alone, to be honest. Still, he somehow scared you from the beginning. His eyes hold no emotions, but in his actions and his aura, all you felt or saw was pure hate. Tom didn't talk about his past, but he didn't have to for you to figure out that it must have been no good one.
Once you were in sixth grade, attacks on muggle-born students happened, and in the end, Myrtle, who was a friend of yours, was killed.
Yeah, she was very difficult , but she didn't mean any harm towards anyone. Besides that, she was bullied by so many students that you just felt pity for her. You were also bullied in your first years at hogwarts until the students stopped out of nowhere. Since then, you have had problems with being social. Most people who were close with you ended up using you for their own benefits or saw you as their therapist or something like that.
Okay, Myrtle was known for being over sensitive, but still, if people knew she would cry because of mean comments, then why make them? She was in her third year when she died, and she only flew to the girls' toilet because Olive Hornby made fun of her again, which made you more sad about her death. It's not like she chose to have glasses. What was wrong with some people?
In the end, Riddle accused Hagird of being responsible for her death. Only you and Proffesor Dumbledore were convinced that it couldn't have been Hagrid. He was way too nice and kind-hearted for such a terrible crime as murder. Though you didn't think it was Tom either.
But it didn't matter. Hagrid was suspended, and that was the end of it.
Since that time, you didn't trust Tom Riddle anymore. He was the one who made everyone believe that Hagird was guilty. And somehow, since the incident, Tom's aura has become even more intimidating and dark. At least that's how it felt to you...
Once you graduated, you didn't hear of him again, which didn't bother you at all. You lived a peaceful life for a long time. You loved your job. You had true friends. You could do your hobbies. And sometimes you even went on a few dates.
But, if it would have stayed that way, you wouldn't be at Voldemorts' side against your will, would you?
The day that ruined your life was a rainy day. It wasn't too cold nor too warm, so you decided to take a walk in the nearby woods. You loved to spend your time there. All the creatures and plants fascinated you every time without fail. Sometimes, you even saw unicorns, which felt like a miracle everytime Besides, it was one of the last peaceful places left.
War would soon come. It was only a matter of time. Everybody knew that. Maybe you only had two months left, or you still got two years. No one knew except the ones on Voldemorts side.
At that time, you only knew that 'The Dark Lord' was a user of the dark arts. And he hated Muggles and Muggle-Borns. Which was enough for you to despite him. Dark magic was never something you approved, and you didn't care about the blood status of anyone. What mattered to you was always the person.
Usually, the woods were filled with life and joy, but that day was different. The forest looked intimidating from the outside, and you even thought about going back home.
Sadly, you didn't listen to your inner voice. But, it wouldn't have changed your fate...
Once you entered it, you didn't hear the happy cheers of the birds like always. And you didn't see any nifflers running by or other creatures in general. Something was definitely wrong.
But you continued to walk, which would soon turn out to be a fatal mistake. As soon as you reached the river, that was in the forest, you realized why everything was so different than usual.
Death Eaters had chased and killed a Muggle-Born witch with her family. They were on a camping trip, as you could tell from the scenery. But there was still a girl, most likely two or three years old, still alive.
Without a second thought, you hid behind a big tree and some bushes around it.
It seemed like the Death Eaters didn't know what to do with her. Maybe she wasn't part of the plan? At first, you thought that this was not an important mission for them, but then you saw Bellatrix. She was very well known as Voldemorts' right hand. She personally learned dark magic from him and was definitely the most loyal Death Eater there ever was. So this must be a really important matter.
You couldn't stand her guts and wanted nothing more than to just slap her even if you didn't know her in person. Dark magic wasn't something you supported. But still, you couldn't deny that she was dangerous and powerful. Her madness didn't lower that fact.
Since dying wasn't on your to-do lost today, you ran away as fast as you could. Since they were arguing so loud, they didn't hear you. Of course, you wanted to help the little girl, but it was simply impossible to get her without getting caught. And against a whole troup of Death Eaters with one being BELLATRIX, you didn't stand a chance.
But luck wasn't on your side...
As you ran away from the horrible scene, you ran into a Death Eater. They wore their typical black clothes and their mask was on, so you didn't see who it was.
Before you could grab your wand, you heard an angry mumbled 'stupor'. You fell onto the ground and blacked out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you awoke, you didn't dare to open your eyes. After all, you got caught by a death eater, so you being alive was a miracle. You didn't hear any voices around you. It also wasn't cold and wet around you, so being locked up in a cellar wasn't the case as well...
Beneath you was a comfortable mattress. It was soft and made you want to fall asleep on it. But what the hell was this all about?!
If you're caught by the bad guys, you normally don't wake up in a soft bed. Did they bring you back home? No, that would be too risky. Maybe they wanted some information, but you weren't really someone well known in the wizarding world.
Patiently, you waited a few more minutes, but still not even the slightest noise. So you opened your eyes.
You were in a dark room. The main colors were black and dark green. Black wardrobes and black walls. The bed was made of black wood, but the sheets were dark green, the big carpet on the floor as well. No one was with you in this room. Desperately, you wanted to know where you were. From the colors, you would have guessed that it was a Slytherin Dormitory in Hogwarts. But kidnappers don't bring you to your old school!
Scared you inspected the room once again. Nothing was familiar...
You took a deep breath and stood up. If you would die, fine, but as long as you had the slightest chance of escape you would take it.
The carpet felt also really expensive beneath your feet. By the way, your kidnappers were so nice to pull off your shoes before laying you into bed...
Everything in this room seemed to be just made for this specific room. Which frightened you even more.
Suddenly, the door was opened, and you saw a pretty woman (walking down the street 🤣) in the doorframe. She was slim and tall, had long blonde hair that was tied up in a bun. Her tight dress was rose gold with a black cloak over it. All in all, she looked like a wealthy woman. Her face was pretty as well, but she looked like she got a dung under her nose. Weird.
"Get up and follow me, My Lady," her cold and clear voice told you.
"Uhm, I'm not your Lad -" but she was already on her way to your goal. You had no clue where it was, but following her was better than sitting around, right?
"I know this must be really confusing, but our Lord will explain it to all of us soon. I was just told to get you and call you that. Now, please, don't make this harder for us than it already is,"
You managed to catch up to her. Now you also saw that her eyes were ice blue. Matching her cold voice.
"Who are you?" you asked softly. Kowing her name could be a good hint to where you were.
"Narcissa Black, soon to be Narcissa Malfoy," the woman didn't look at you for one second, her eyes were focused on the walls. So you were still in the claws of the death eaters. Family Black was well known for their puryity, not a family you would have gotten along with.
The corridor was huge by the way. Dark colors still dominating. Only the chandelier was white. Did this belong to one person or was it the headquarters of Voldemort and his minions or what? Instead of getting awnsers you only got more questions as you walked after Narcissa.
Downstairs. A few steps upstairs again. Left. Left again. Right. Straight forward. The second right.
Was this a house or a Labyrinth?! How were you supposed to find your way in here? You even got lost in Digeon Ally!
But after what felt like an internity, you both reached a large black table, people gathered around it. A tall man stood up from his chair as he heard you two enter. As he turned around, you saw your old classmate Tom Riddle, but if he was here, he wouldn't help you. If he became a death eater, he was behind after everything you swore to fight. He wasn't an ally or a friend anymore. He was a danger and a threat to you and many innocent people who weren't here.
You tried to hide behind Narcissa. After all, she was the only person who seemed at least a little trustworthy, and she was another woman. Maybe she knew how unsafe you felt because mostly men were in this room. The only other woman was a mad Bellatrix, never ever you would trust her.
"Ah, there they are. Come in, " Tom spoke. His voice had changed, and it was more intimidating than it was before.
You didn't move an inch, but Narcissa started to move forward. Being all alone without someone to hide behind was more scarry, so you followed her, but you were still behind her.
"Oh no, don't be afraid. No one here will even dare to glare at you, my dear. They knew the punishment would be worse than death," You couldn't recognize Tom anymore. The hate in his presence, his voice, his appearance, everything scared you. Back in school, you didn't fear him, at least not for his house or his roots. Just because he was a Slytherin, it didn't mean that he was evil, but now? His opinions were completely different than yours, and this was not a stupid novel of the stereotype enemies to lovers cause he was just plain and simple wrong with his thoughts on muggleborn or muggles in general.
[Funfact: I don't get the hype on this topic, see, for being autistic I got bullied for many years and than reading a story about two people hating each other's guts and than falling for each other just feels wrong for me, you can read whatever you want ofc, this was just my unpopular opinion]
Still, you hid behind Narcissa, but as she tried to go towards a man with long blonde hair and her crazy sister, you felt completely defenseless. The only person you used to know seemed to be the head of everything here, and Narcissa wasn't at your side anymore. Sadly, Tom saw your fear. He went towards you and pulled you in an unwanted hug. Softly, he petted your hair and whispered sweet nothings. As soon as this horror hug ended, he smiled at you and turned towards the others.
"If anything should happen to her, everyone will be held responsible! You know the punishment, now go! We are done here!" As the last word fell, everyone disapparated, and only you and him were left.
And then you realized it. If he could order the death eaters around, he must be the dark lord himself. Tom Riddle, your old classmate, was Voldemort.
You backed away from him but regretted it soon. Tom didn't take rejection good...
"Why are you scared? I won't harm you. In fact, I am the one who has kept you safe since I saw you!"
"Are you mad?!" You yelled back into his already mad face. Wrong choice again. In full rage he stormed through the room and kicked everything in his way. Chairs and even the whole table practically flew through the room.
"Who protected you from those bullies back in Hogwarts?! Who kept you safe from all filthy boys who just wanted to break your heart?! Who killed the mudblood Myrtle so you were safe from her?!"
So Dumbledore was right... Tom opened the chamber of secrets all those years ago. And killed your friend.
"Myrtle was my friend! I never asked for your personal protection, Tom!"
Somehow that calmed him down! Yep, that man was a complete psychopath...
"But you didn't have to, my dear", he ran towards you and cupped your cheek while looking into your eyes.
"Keeping you safe will always be my priority. I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you and I knew that I would always protect you. Look around, here in our mansion you will always be safe. No one will ever harm you again. We'll be safe here! After I've won this war you and I can live here in peace. Just imagine it, I'll make us so many horcruxes that we won't ever die. Here we will raise our kids and they'll never go through the pain of being an orphan like I was", pain and hate was in his voice at the simple thought of 'death' and 'orphan'. But having a family with this insane man? Hell nah, you'd flee the moment you got the chance!
"I know now this is scary for you, and you might think of escaping, but this whole mansion is surrounded by death eaters, the moment you even think of fleeing you'll be brought to your room and trust me, I know how to punish or torture someone so that no mistace will ever happen again",
And that's how you ended up here. Behind you was the man that claimed to love you fast asleep. Yet he was the one who made you go through all of this. Most traumas you had were because of his action. If this was love, than you could already drown in it.
You had no idea if you could ever escape or if even the try of escaping was a good idea. This man wasn't well known for his kindness or his patience.
Maybe playing along would make it easier, but would your mental health take that well? Or would that make him do worse things 'out of love'?
Still, you rethought your first actions towards Tom, trying to figure out what made his obsession start. Was it your look? Your hairstyle? Your body language?
Or was it just being unlucky?
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shaynawrites23 · 6 months
Text
Remus Lupin's Hands
i am having thoughts-
alright i bet Remus has really nice hands
he's got long fingers and his hands are really warm
and you just can't keep your eyes off the veins running from his arm to his hands
Remus knows this
but he doesn't know if you know he knows
it's not exactly a secret though
you hold his hand whenever you get the chance
all of Hogwarts can see you walking down the halls with your fingers entwined with his
or during class
your professors have made remarks about it many times
but you both always insist it helps you focus
its really not a lie
"Mr. Lupin, Ms. (y/l/n)! Trust me, you'll be much more capable in making potions if you have both hands free."
Remus looks up from the book he's holding open with his left hand, his right clasped in yours, and blinks innocently up at Slughorn. "But Professor, I do my best work with one hand-"
Professor Slughorn puts a hand in his coat pocket and glances between you and your boyfriend. You hide a smile by busying yourself arranging the ingredients by color, and you miss the miniscule upturn of your teacher's lips.
"Well, we'll see how your potion turns out. Mr. Black, perhaps you'd like to consider investing more attention in your potion instead of in your classmates' love life." With these remarks, he moves on to the next desk.
Sirius Black, ever the rebel, leans over and whispers conspiratorially with a smirk, "If you keep this up, you might even beat Marlene and Dorcas in being voted 'most likely to get marri-'"
He's cut off by Remus smacking him with the book in his left hand.
sometimes you also just use his hands as a heating pad
like when your own are cold
or when you're having period cramps
just grab your boyfriend's hands
he doesn't mind one bit
even if it sometimes results in... unexpected reactions
bonus though: it comes with cuddles
There's something about being snuggled up to your partner that eases the pain of periods. Maybe it's magic, maybe it's psychological... you don't know what it is, but when you're menstruating, Remus already knows he may be dragged over to hold you until you feel better.
That's how you find yourself in this position, sitting between your boyfriend's legs with his hands pressed to your belly, the warmth easing your discomfort just enough to have you sighing in content. Remus has his textbook open next to him, but turns his head every so often to press a kiss to your cheek where you rest your head against his shoulder.
"Moony, McGonagall said- woah! Lovebirds, get a room!" Sirius slaps a hand over his eyes the moment he sees how his friend's hands are up your shirt, a second too soon to notice said friend's deadpan glare.
"She's on her period, you twat. Get your head out of the gutter, Pads, what'd McGonagall say?"
"Yeah, yeah. Have fun, you two. Don't do anything I wouldn't. Or... anything Lily wouldn't." With a wink at the both of you, he's out the door again, ignoring Remus' deep sigh before he kisses you in apology.
another thing you love to do with his hands is kissing them when he least expects it
or anytime, really
just a soft kiss to his knuckles or his palm
you think its adorable how he gets flustered
no matter how many times you do it
he can never hide his grin
maybe you're a little in love with his hands
but he thinks he quite likes it
its cute to watch you tracing the scars over his hands
or to watch you playing with his fingers while you cuddle
so really
it works out quite well :)
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dwindlinghaze · 5 months
Text
endless empathy
(remus lupin x reader)
summary: post full moon remus who just wants to be with you
contents: short fic, fluff fluff idk more fluff lol :) established relationship, descriptions of kissing
  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
"how're you holding up moony? just a few more steps to the hospital wing and you'll be better," sirius said. remus' arms were over james and sirius' shoulders, each supporting their injured friend.
finally arriving at the hospital wing, which for him took so long. remus sighed as he rested his body against the mattress. it wasn't the comfiest but better than nothing. his chest was aching painfully, with new fresh scars from that night. no matter how many times he had transformed, he never got used to the unbearable pain of it all.
madam pomfrey patched him up, quickly shooing away the james, sirius, and peter out of sight.
"where's my girl?" the first thing remus thought right after he woke up is where you were. james and sirius were visiting remus just like any other full moons, but you weren't there... yet.
"she'll be here soon moony," sirius said, trying to crack an assuring smile. just then you walked in with his breakfast in a paper bag, eyes searching for your boyfriend. "long live, she's here."
"morning everyone, morning love," you bowed down to kiss his temple gently, making sure not to make any direct contact against his healing skin. it really hurts to smile when there are scars all over his face, but he couldn't help it.
"we should leave them to be," james said before dragging sirius away out the wing.
"feeling better?" you asked as you opened his breakfast. you've learned to cut them in smaller pieces to avoid remus' scars from opening again due to facial movements.
remus hummed as he reached for your hand. "much better." you fed him his usual breakfast as you tell him about your day and the little information about what you dreamt last night.
"sorry," he whispered, shame washed over him as he took in how pathetic he must look right now. pale, lost of blood, dry, cold.
"don't be sorry for anything," you cupped his face gently. "i love taking care of you rem. makes me happy by just spending time with you."
remus melted at your words as he shuffled to get closer to you. burying his face on your arm, kissing the skin softly.
madame pomfrey walked in and smiled at the two of you as she made her way with some healing potions in the tray she held. in the lady's eyes, you both were like a couple straight out from a book. one always seeks out for the other.
"i suppose he can return back to his dormitory, seeing he heals faster each time," the old woman said, more to you than to remus. "some potions just in case the gashes opened, 'tis all he needs."
remus visibly blushed, seeing you nodding at madam pomfrey. "i can help with that," you offered and she let you, handing the bottle of yellow liquid. she opted for you to use the pipette, adding a few drops before smearing it lightly across the cuts on his back.
"practicing for the old days?" the older woman said in a teasing tone yet very flat. she usually was stern and strict but seeing remus being taken care of by you softened her.
remus cheeks were tinted pink, lucky he was facing the other way. you chuckled in response, shaking your head at her remark.
after madam pomfrey left, you helped remus to put his sweater on, whispering sweet encouragements. you sat down beside him and circled an arm around his torso. he leaned into your touch, cheeks pressing against your neck.
"wanna go back to my dorm," remus mumbled, lifting his head up slowly to catch your eyes.
"of course, just hold on to me," you started to stand up, opening your arms for him to hold onto.
the walk was slow with you trying to help him up. gosh the amount of stairs hogwarts has is unbelievable. remus was strong enough to climb all of them so now he's on his bed, body flat against the mattress.
"lay beside me princess, please?" he asked, looking up at you with the most adoring eyes. he really wanted you to hold him. after a rough night at the shrieking shack, all he needed is the comfort of his love.
"of course," you replied, sliding down beside him as you cover both of your bodies beneath his warm blanket. he threw his arm over your body, face pressing against your chest.
"want cuddles," he mumbled. you always love it when remus gets all mushy and sickly adorable. he was always like this after a full moon and you could never complain. you want nothing more than to hold him and protect him from the nasty world.
moving to a better position, remus looked up at you, smiling before he pressed his lips against yours. it was a soft and sweet kiss, nothing hungry or heated. he badly wanted to feel you.
when you smiled in between his lips, he couldn't help but smile too, pressing harder this time.
"d'you want a back massage?" you asked softly when he groaned in the middle of the kiss, trying to get up to kiss you more.
"yes but i also want to kiss you," he pouted, dipping down to connect your lips again.
before he could though, you held his jaw, noses were already touching. "pick one love, can't do that at the same time," you spoke, in which he returned by a whine and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. he stayed there for a while, seemingly thinking about the decision.
"what about kissing and back rubs?" he said, lifting his head up again to look at you. his eyes held such softness and warmth, contrast to what he was just hours ago.
"sure can," you giggled. it is so hard to resist him. moving your hand around his back in a soft circular motion, remus sighed softly against your face, nuzzling further to your skin.
he pressed his cheeks against yours, smiling in pure bliss. then he moved away to capture your lips in his afterwards, moulding together perfectly.
your lips are the softest, he loves kissing them so much. the position you both were in made it possible for him to feel your heart beating against his. he can feel your heartbeats thumping. it makes him so happy- just by feeling the beat of your heart.
the sweet kiss you shared was now turning more into a soft make out session. him nibbling at your bottom lips as you both pulled away slightly to breathe.
you two have a brief eye contact, smiles slowly creeping up your cheeks. he looked down at your pink plumped lips, glistening perfectly for him to dive down again to continue on what he has left.
that whole day, you spent your time with remus laying above you, body pressed against the other comfortably. you didn't know how long you both made out but your lips were now in the brightest shade of pink.
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mysteryshoptls · 19 days
Text
SSR Vil Schoenheit - Platinum Jacket Voice Lines
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When Summoned: Today, I take on the role as a supporter of this museum. I'll make sure to promote well the beauty and wonder of these works of art.
Summon Line: Taking in all of these beautiful things will allow me to develop my own beauty further. I'll be taking my time to appreciate as much as I can today.
Groooovy!!: I refuse to accept a happy ending brought about by someone else. I will fulfill my dreams by my own hand.
Home: Time to celebrate the 100th anniversary.
Home Idle 1: The brilliant luster of the fabric and small accessories nicely accentuates this seemingly simple monochrome attire. Not bad at all.
Home Idle 2: There is a thin line between poisons and potions. The Fairest Queen must have delved into her research to further her understanding of their differences. She truly is someone worth our respect.
Home Idle 3: Ortho says he'd like to hold a conversation with the Lord of the Underworld. Seems as though he would like to utilize his sense of humor as a base for his acting.
Home Idle - Login: You'd like me to speak on the painting of the Fairest Queen? I suppose I could, as long as you stay attentive. If you dare to yawn during my exposition... Heh, you should prepare for the consequences.
Home Idle - Groovy: Beauty cannot be achieved in a single day, and the same could be said for a physically pristine body. Jack and I are very similar in how we will constantly endeavor towards our goals without fail.
Home Tap 1: Trey saw a painting of the Queen of Hearts smiling and commented that she had lovely teeth. Only he would focus on that...
Home Tap 2: The exhibits each give a different emotional impact based on the brightness of the lights and the way the works are illuminated. I can tell this museum has put much thought into its lighting.
Home Tap 3: I'd like to improve my drawing skills. Simply because I would like to make my own proposals if I ever have the opportunity to work with one of my favorite brands.
Home Tap 4: When I approached Malleus, he elucidated on the painting of the Thorn Fairy. He spoke of tales uniquely passed down among faes, so it was quite the learning experience.
Home Tap 5:  There are so many wonderful exhibits here, and yet here you are just staring at me. I fully understand why you would, but try to focus on the paintings.
Home Tap - Groovy: You seem to be in high spirits. Were you that elated to listen to my explanations of the artwork? Yes, of course you were.
Duo: [VIL]: We'll silence them all, Jack! [JACK]: Absolutely, Vil-senpai!
Birthday Login Message: [Yuu pops party popper] Thank you for the birthday surprise. That was a rather elaborate one, too. I especially enjoyed how you tripped over your lines, despite the fact that you were lying in wait to ambush me for quite some time. That wasn't on purpose? Obviously. If that was an act, it would be something worth scouting.
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Requested by Anonymous.
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ch-4-eri · 2 months
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LOVE POTIONS — Jill Valentine.
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best friend’s mom! jill X female reader.
warnings: 18+ mdni!! age gap (don’t say i didn’t warn you) oral, dirty talk, hints at the reader being a virgin if you squint. i don’t know if i’m missing anything let me know.
word count: 1.4k
i’m so sick for this, i’ll go to hell on my own, don’t fuck your friend’s mothers guys. but do enjoy this.
you couldn’t explain it, even if you wanted, the whole thing was messy from the beginning.
it was supposed to be something innocent, completely harmless and has no threat to anyone in your life or yourself.
or your best friend.
if only you never met his mother, Jill Valentine, government agent, and a former RPD S.T.A.R.S member.
but god, you didn’t think it through.
didn’t think your attitude and the way you looked at the woman were entirely calculated, jill knew.
this woman has a love for details and reading you, every time you came over; what you’d say and what’d you do, what you’re wearing.
she’d show you she’s busy, working documents and important things for the BSAA, jill to you was just a best friend’s mother.
but you both had one hell of an unspoken sexual tension.
which you tried to hide, tried to shove in the back of your mind as your age gap is fucking nuts and you always worry someone would read your mind which isn’t even a realistic idea, but still, you were too anxious to act on it, even alone, self awareness preventing you from being able to stay in your head for long.
but jill on the other hand… when every time she analysed you, how you talk, how you act, your ass in your tiny skirts drives her fucking crazy enough she finds herself unable to sleep, her hand inside her shorts as she’s pumping herself up at the thought of you with her hand covering her mouth.
surely she felt ashamed, a woman her age acting and thinking like this, she felt so much guilt and shame for operating like a damn teenage boy riling with hormones over a girls ass in a skirt.
a girl her son’s age.
she knew if he ever found her out, he’d hate her forever and she can’t afford losing him, not after fighting for his custody for many years with her ex husband.
but that’s not what she had in mind that day, when she had you splayed down her bed so late at night, her fingers in your mouth as she ate you out like no tomorrow, your legs on her shoulders, your moans muffled by her thick fingers pressing down your tongue, drooling all over them.
“taste’s so good..” jill groaned against your clit, her mouth engulfing you, sending your back arching, she pulls away and sits up, making you ache at the loss of contact and the warmth you felt between your legs.
jill removed her fingers from your mouth, wiping your saliva off them down her bedsheets, going on her knees to meet your eyes as you were so lost in the feeling of pleasure you never got from anyone else other than this woman, a woman you shouldn’t even be doing this with.
but neither of you were even thinking of that right now.
jill had your chin in her palm as you opened your eyes, your breathing shaky and heavy, drool covering your chin as you smelled like sex and vanilla to the older woman’s nostrils.
“i want you to sit on my face, yeah? can you do that for me?” jill smirked, licking her lips with the tongue you want to be inside you again so badly.
you nodded eagerly, the thought of having her mouth against your pussy again was driving you mad with chills coursing through your body. “mhm.. yes please.” you begged, your eyes staring into hers pleadingly, like a lost puppy. fucked up enough.
jill patted your legs, lying down on the mattress of her huge bed, she wasn’t wearing anything other than her lacey bra and underwear, she was a fucking sight, you’d drool on her looks alone. even for a woman her age, she was damn delicious and you couldn’t get your eyes off her as you went on your knees and crawled to her.
she prepared the seat that was her face you were going to be sitting on for the next many minutes, hopefully hours if it were up to the older woman. moving her short brown hair away from her blue eyes you’d drown in.
as you made it closer to her, you were a bit nervous, a question rolling around your head you had to make sure of, you had to ask, as silly as it made you sound to a woman with so much experience.
“do i sit or hover?” you asked, your voice betraying you, your cheeks rosy and lips red and swollen.
jill chuckled, like she was making fun of you. “sit.” she demands. “i want you to suffocate me.” jill added, taking a hold of your thigh as she brought you closer with her strong grip.
“i want you to cum in my mouth.. am i clear, sweet girl?” she demanded as soon as you gasped, raising an eyebrow at your hesitation.
“y-yes..” you nodded like the puppy you are, you weren’t going to upset her, you hated to refuse jill.
and jill hated it when you refused her.
you finally scooted up to jill’s head, placing a knee next to her head, the other doing the same as you lowered your body so your wet pussy made contact with her nose, both of you let out a sigh while jill’s hands positioned you properly on her face, and as soon as you felt her tongue lick a long stripe up your sopping wet hole you let out a sickeningly pornographic moan, your hands grabbing at the headboard of her bed.
“ah.. jill..” you breathed, your thighs squeezing the older woman’s head, her tongue sucking and licking at your hole as she made it her sole purpose for you to cum in her mouth and if she keeps this up you’re gonna do it more than once, not that jill would complain.
her strong hands gripped your ass so tight, her tongue brutally slamming inside of you, as was her nose, sliding it up and down which drew pathetic moans out of you.
jill was humming, groaning into you, making your legs shake and your thighs closing in on her, and you were worried you were hurting her even though jill was having a fucking blast, she adored those damn thighs, if she suffocateds and dies like this it’ll all be worth it.
“please.. can’t take this anymore.” you cried out, making jill just suck at your clit like a starved woman, her body humming and shivering as she was desperate to get touched as well, rubbing her thighs together while her hands reached your hips in a bruising grip.
you were shuddering and whimpering, your legs so weak as you didn’t want to put your full weight on the woman’s face. “jill..” you moaned as she flicked her tongue against your sopping walls, your thighs filled with goosebumps.
“i’m..” you start, your lower belly so tight with a burning sensation that you were so close to your release, jill positioned you right into her mouth as she knew you were close, drinking you up as you finally gushed your orgasm down her mouth like she wanted.
“mmm..” jill mumbled, swallowing every last bit of what you can give her, you tasted like heaven, fucking delicious.
you were trying to catch your breath, your heart hammering against your rib cage as jill patted your thigh.
you weakly pulled your knee away from her head, your legs were shaking like crazy, your center so sensitive and puffy.
“i bet you can’t walk now, huh?” jill joked, sitting up on her elbows, her cheeks red from the heat of being between your thighs for as long as she just was, her nose and her lips shiny and sticky from your release and you were so sick for thinking she looked so darn good with your cum on her face.
you gulped, heat rushing into your cheeks at her words. “just a little sore.” you mumbled shyly, like you weren’t just seated on her face.
“a little sore hm? come here for me..” jill gestured for you to come closer to her. “you think you can just rest without returning the favour?”
jill smirked and brushed your hair away from your face, brushing two fingers against your hardened nipples.
“i know you can’t handle me sitting on your face… i’m afraid i’d break you entirely… but you have fingers don’t you?”
she says in a suggestive tone, grabbing your nipple into her mouth, your eyes closing at the sensation, your hands going into her hair as a moan escaped you.
jill took your hand and brought it near her panties.
then she pulled away with a pop, her blue eyes staring into yours so intensely. “now be a good girl and touch me.”
oh boy you’re screwed.
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sunnyhvnny · 1 year
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Hi ! How about yandere HOTD men (Aemond, Jace, Aegon, Daemon) learning their wife take moon tea regularly to not be pregnant with their child ? (and understand why their many attempts at getting her pregnant didn't bring results)
It’s been a minute since I’ve written Yandere!hotd. I also feel like I’ve written something similar to this but for the life of me I can’t find it or remember.
TW: Manipulation, non-con,
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Daemon Targaryen
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When it comes to his wife, Daemon is an observant man. He knows he is clever already but he prides himself in knowing everything involving his wife. That is how he learned that every morning after a night of coupling, she has a servant bring her moon tea. Daemon knows she didn’t want to marry him and that the only reason they were wed at all was that he wanted her. However, enough time has passed in their marriage for her to come to love him as well.
He gives her only his love and affection. Never does he raise his voice at her or is cruel towards her. He swore to his brother when he agreed to marry her to him, that he would only treat her in an honorable manner. He had upheld his word. That is why he has been sitting on the knowledge of his wife and the moon tea for almost a fortnight, trying to figure out what to do. He didn’t want to rage at her or make her frightened of him. He still wanted her love and truthfully, that was why he wanted her to carry his child.
No, he decided an accusation would be the best. He would make her feel guilty. Feel cornered and then she would stop drinking the moon tea on her own.
When his wife enters their shared chambers, he watches as she doesn’t spare him a glance and doesn’t see what he has sat in front of him on the table. She goes about getting ready for bed and it is only after she walks out from behind the changing screen that she finally looks at her husband. He hasn’t said a word the entire time and that in itself is suspicious. Usually, Daemon would already be pawing at her or ranting about his day.
Daemon sees the exact moment her eyes find the bottle of moon tea and realizes why her husband has been so quiet. He knows she won’t break the silence so he does. He asks her if she is seeing someone else. If she is having an affair and that is why she is drinking the moon tea because surely if she was only taking her husband to bed then there wouldn’t be a need for such a horrid potion.
He knows she hasn’t been with anyone else. He has been keeping his eye on her but his questions have the desired effect. She denies them and rambles about how he is the only man she has ever been intimate with and throughout it all Daemon forces himself to remain silent.
Finally, he asks her why she would take the moon tea if her husband is the only one fucking her. It takes her a minute to find a proper response but he knows the truth. She doesn’t love him and doesn’t want his children. He remembers her saying as much to one of her companions after they wed but she won’t say that to him. Instead, she tries to get sympathy out of him and tells him how frightening it is to have children. How terrifying the idea of it all is and if Daemon were anyone else he probably would have believed her, but he doesn’t.
He stands, then and walks over to her slowly. He takes her in his arms gently and tells her that he will be there for her the entire time. That she will want for nothing and that he will care for her. Then, in the quietest and most gentle voice he can muster, Daemon asks her to give him a child. He asks her to bless their union with a babe of their own and after a few moments, she nods because he knows that she has heard the rumors about him. Knows that if he is already accusing her of cheating on him it is t good and if he were to do it again, she very well could end up forfeiting her life.
He makes her give the bottle of moon tea back to the maester herself and when she comes to bed for the night, he can’t help the victorious smile from spreading across his face as he takes her.
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Aegon II Targaryen
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Aegon isn’t the smartest or most observant but he pays attention to his wife. He loves her and until this very moment, where he’s holding the cup that is apparently filled with moon tea, he thought she loved him as well. Before they spoke their vows and became one in the sept she had told him how much she loved him and how she wanted a family with him. How it was all she ever wanted.
His wife is a liar and at that thought, he hurls the cup of tea toward her, letting it break against the wall next to his weeping wife. He can barely pay attention as she pleads and begs him to listen to her. She sobs about how she meant every word. How she loves him and does want to carry and give him children.
For once, he is at a loss for words. How his traitorous wife can still stand by what she previously said is beyond him. However, he’s going to hold her to her word this time. It doesn’t take him long to stride across the room and grab her roughly by the hair. He doesn’t care that she whimpers and cries as he shoves her onto the bed and forces himself inside her.
When he is finished and rolls off of her, he wonders if perhaps she was telling the truth. She could have only been afraid to be with child but she swore to him that she’d give him a child that was theirs and to him, that should outweigh her fears.
He lets her rest for a bit before he fucks her again. Usually, he would go slow with his dear wife but he’s angry and has a goal. He doesn’t register when the sun rises or the knock on the door. He sees the servant walk in with their morning tea and food to break their fast. He stills with a shudder and spills himself inside of his wife again and it’s only when he catches his breath that he tells the servant to take the tea away and that if he ever finds out that they are bringing his wife moon tea again, he will personally make sure that no one ever sees them again.
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Aemond Targaryen
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A maester comes to him and asks him if his wife will continue needing the moon tea he has been making for her. Aemond listens to the babbling fool as he tells him how he would ask his Lady Wife but can’t find her anywhere. She had even told him, he says once it’s clear that the prince won’t say anything, that Aemond was okay with her taking the tea. That they weren’t ready to be parents.
Aemond is furious. Not only because his wife is using him to lie but for drinking that poisonous tea. Mostly, though, he feels deceived. When he and his wife wed he believed that she shared the same sense of duty as he did. Clearly, she was lying to him because if she did she would have been heavy with his child by now. She wouldn’t lie to her Lord Husband in such a way.
Despite the many feelings raging within him, he refuses to show them. Especially to this maester. He prides himself on being smart and calculating so it would do him no good to explode or rage. Instead, he tells the maester, who was stupid enough to come to him, that his wife is no longer in need of his services. That she no longer wants the moon tea and that she will never want it again. There must be something in his voice that makes the other man nervous because he only bobs his head and skitters away.
Aemond doesn’t say anything to his dear wife that night as she rides him. His need to fill her with his child is more prevalent than it has ever been and when he grabs her around the waist and pounds into her until she’s a moaning mess he thinks, somewhat cruelly that she doesn’t deserve to know what he has done. That she will learn her lesson when she learns that she is carrying their child.
The next morning, Aemond watches as she drinks her morning tea which is brought by one of her favorite servants. He knows she thinks she is drinking the moon tea and he can’t stop his cock from hardening knowing that she thinks she’s the one deceiving him.
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Jacaerys Velaryon
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Jace is angry with himself when he finally realizes the reason why his beloved wife has yet to swell with his child. He has been called naive and gentle his whole life and for the first time, he truly feels naive. He thought it was just taking a while to conceive a child. His beloved had told him that sometimes it takes a while and he believed her.
He doesn’t let her see how upset he is. He doesn’t want her to see his anger or self-pity but something must change. So that night as she is undressing for their nightly lovemaking, Jace does what he does best. He asks her if she loves him. Her answer is quick and when she looks over at her husband she sees his frown that borders on being a pout and his wide eyes filled with hurt. He asks then, why she would take moon tea every time he has given her his seed. Does she not love him enough? Enough to bare him a child? Does she think he’d be a horrible father?
When he looks close to crying she comes to comfort him. She holds him against her naked body and he lets her as she whispers reassurances. ‘Of course, she loves him’ ‘she was scared to be with child’ ‘he would make an excellent father’. After a while of her whispered reassurances, Jace finally pulls back and tries his best to still look broken but hopeful as he asks her if this means she will stop taking the moon tea.
She hesitates at the question but Jace knows he has won. He knows by the end of the night that his seed will take root and she will feel too bad to drink the moon tea to be rid of the potential babe that will eventually start to grow inside of her.
His wife swallows and he doesn’t miss the way she won’t look him in the eye or the paleness that has come over her soft skin as she agrees to stop taking the moon tea. With her agreement, he smiles, truly, and kisses her. She looks relieved to see that he is no longer upset.
That night, Jace makes sure to spill his seed inside his wife as many times as he can before sleep takes him. Towards the end, she’s whimpering about being sore but Jace thinks it’s a small price to pay for lying to him about something so big.
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cameronspecial · 20 days
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A New Kind Of Normal (Part 3)
Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Fight With A Parent, Swearing, and Fear of Relapse
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 3.0K
Summary: Rafe has accomplished his goals and is now able to meet his daughter for the first time.
Masterlist
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Over the past month, Rafe has gotten a chance to learn more about Stella from his weekly meetings with Y/N. Stella was born on May 17th, 2020 at 10:59 A.M. Her first word was Joshy, said at eleven months old when she was calling for help from her uncle Josh when her uncle Benedict would mercilessly tickle her. At two years old, she became obsessed with witches after her mother read her a book about them and it has been her favourite topic of conversation since. Her favourite colour is dark purple and her favourite food is any soup in general because she likes to pretend she is drinking a witch's potion when she eats it. The most important fact of all to Rafe: Stella Rachel Y/L/N is his little girl’s full name. Y/N had tried her best to come up with a name close to Rafe, but all the names closer she found on the internet didn’t go with Stella. Nonetheless, the action still touched him when Y/N told him that was the reason.
And now, he’ll finally get to meet his little star. His hand fidgets with the small nob on his watch, making the hands go clockwise and counterclockwise. He watches as Y/N reads over his toxicology report. She didn’t require him to do a weekly toxicology report to prove that he was staying sober, but he wanted to show her she could trust him. The logical part of him knows she won’t say that he can’t meet Stella, yet a small part of him fears she might. 
The small smile she gives him relieves him of his anxiety, “This is great, Button. I’m so proud of the work you put into staying sober.” Forming a friendship with Y/N was another amazing thing that happened this month. When she started using the nickname she gave him the night Stella was conceived, he felt the air leave his lungs just like it does now. “Thanks. I was really scared that I might relapse this week after I got into an argument with my dad, but I called Diana, did some breathing exercises and looked at my picture of Stella. It all helped me get through it,” he replies truthfully. He had truly felt fear that week when he found himself on the road towards Barry’s trailer. Luckily, he was able to fight through his desire and pull over the car before he got there. Y/N nods and reaches out to place a reassuring hand on his, “Well, I’m glad you were able to recognize your craving and reach out for help with managing it. So do you want to come over after we finish our coffee?” 
His lips stretch so far apart that people would think he is the Joker. He pulls out his phone to check his schedule, “No, I won’t have enough time to go home and change if I come tonight. I also need to get her a few things before I meet her. How about tomorrow afternoon? Is that okay?” “You know you don’t have to make a big deal about this with the changing and the gifts. As long as you love her and show her that love, she is going to reciprocate those feelings,” Y/N argues. 
“I know, I just… Meeting her is all I have been dreaming about for the last month and I want it to be perfect. Plus, it really couldn’t hurt to get her a few bribery toys.”
“I understand how you feel. When Benny came home the week before Stella was born with the wrong colour paint for her room, I almost threw a chair at him. I wanted Finch yellow, but he got funky yellow. It didn’t matter that they were virtually the same colour. I just need her room to be exactly how I planned it. So you can come over tomorrow. Just don’t buy her too many toys.” 
“I can’t be held to a gift-buying limit. I have to make up for five years.”
——
Y/N watches as Stella tries to get ready by herself, thinking about what is going to happen in just ten minutes. “Mommy, help, please,” Stella cries out for help. Y/N’s focus returns to her daughter and she has to stop herself from laughing. Stella has gotten her shirt stuck on her head because she has been trying to get her head through the armhole. Y/N approaches the young girl and helps put her head through the right hole. “You were almost there, Stells. I’m proud of you,” she praises, giving the little girl a kiss on the head. Stella shouts a thank you as she runs into her mom’s room. 
Y/N follows her daughter to her room and carries Stella over to the bed. Once Stella is safely on the bed, Y/N turns toward her dresser to get her perfume. “One tiny spray for this wrist,” Y/N pushes the top of the perfume so the scent falls on her daughter’s wrist. “And one tiny spray for the other. Now, you are ready to go. Why don’t you wait in the living room for Mommy’s special guest to arrive.” The little girl runs off as her mother suggested and Y/N is left alone in her room. She looks at herself in her mirror, wondering how her life is going to change once Stella meets her dad. It’s not that Y/N doesn’t trust Rafe, he has shown her that he really is trying. It’s that Stella isn’t going to be solely Y/N’s anymore. She will have to share some parenting duties with Rafe and it feels strange for her to do that. She is the one who stayed up with Stella when she was puking all night last year. She is the one who would read the little girl a bedtime story every day. She is the one Stella goes to when she is scared. Now, Y/N is going to have to learn to let Rafe do those things too. 
Rafe nervously wipes the sweat off of his palm and adjusts the hat on his head. The time on the clock shows he is five minutes early, but he can’t wait any longer. He knocks on the door and rocks on the balls of his feet. The door creaks open, yet Rafe is met with an empty doorway. It is only when he looks down that he sees the perfect little star staring up at him with her brilliant blue eyes. “Stella Rachel Y/L/N, what have I told you about answering the door to strangers?” Y/N scolds, walking into the room with an adorable motherly look. Stella looks back at her mother with a pouty look, “I’m sorry, Mommy. But I knows we were going to have a special guest.”
Rafe is in awe at how adorable she is, but he takes this as his chance to do the first fatherly act he will ever do. “Your mother is right, Stella. What if I was a stranger?” he poses, kneeling down to her level. She gives him wide eyes, “But you weren’t. You are the man who Mommy yelled at.” Her words cause pain to shoot through his heart. The first memory his little girl has of him is his argument with her mother. Y/N can see the hurt that crosses Rafe’s face and beckons the pair away from the doorway. “Yes, he is, Baby. But he apologized to Mommy and we are friends again. Did you see his hat?” Y/N points out. The small blue eyes move from his face up to his head and her eyes turn to delight. “You’re wearing a witch’s hat!” she exclaims, reaching up to her father’s head to try it on. “Can I try it on, please?” Glad that his conversation start is working, he takes the hat off and places it on her tiny head. Everyone giggles as the big hat falls over her eyes. 
Now, that the ice has been sufficiently broken, Y/N decides it is time to make the introduction Rafe has been waiting for. “Stella, do you know why I asked my special friend to come visit?” Y/N sits on the couch, bringing Stella on her lap. The little girl shakes her head and rests it on her mother’s chest. “He’s your Daddy, Baby.” The excitement in his daughter’s eyes as she turns toward him sends him over the moon. The tiny girl flings herself into her arms and screams his new name. He never thought someone would call him those words, but now it’s the only one he wants to hear. “Does that mean you can play witch with me? I have a hat you can borrow.” With her now in his arms, he can smell the familiar vanilla fragrance of Y/N’s perfume. It makes him smile that she wants to be just like her mommy. Before he can answer, she runs off to her room to get her toys. She returns dragging a big plastic cauldron behind her. Rafe feels his father's instinct kick in. He jumps off of the couch and runs over to pick her and the cauldron up in his arms. Stella looks at him in awe, “Wow, my Daddy is super strong.” This absolutely kills him and he kisses her on the cheek. 
——
Y/N, Stella and Rafe have spent the afternoon playing various games their daughter wanted to play. When it got closer to dinner time, the three of them worked together to make something to eat. “Button, can you please pour me some more water?” Y/N asks, holding up her glass for him to do it. He picks up the water pitcher and pours it for her, “Of course, Buttercup.” Stella may be three and eleven months old, but she is very observant. Throughout the afternoon, she noticed the tiny glances Rafe would send Y/N’s way. She noticed how his hand would reach to find her skin, yet it never seemed to land. She noticed how he would always ask for Y/N’s approval. And just now, she saw how his lips formed a massive smile because of her mother’s attention. 
The small girl starts to form a plan in her head; she can see how much her father is pining for her mother. He clearly needs her help. “Mommy, I like Daddy’s hair. Do you?” she questions, looking back and forward between her parents. Y/N looks up from her food to look at Rafe, “I do like his hair. It looks nice when the front of his hair falls down like a little curtain.” He stops mid-stab of the pasta to look up at her through his lashes. “I’ll take note of that then, Buttercup,” he brings his hand up to hide the blush on his cheeks. Stella is very satisfied with the results of the beginning of her plan. She feels like a genius. Y/N doesn’t know that she is going to regret letting Stella watch Hallmark movies with her. 
——
After dinner, Rafe is preparing for the roughly hour-and-a-half drive back to the Outer Banks. Stella is holding on to Rafe for dear life because she isn’t ready for him to go. “Mommy, why can’t Daddy stay?” she begs, looking at her mother sadly. Y/N frowns at her daughter, “I’m sorry, Baby. Not yet, there is nowhere for him to sleep. Plus, Daddy has work tomorrow and you have daycare.” Rafe can see the struggle Y/N is having with saying no to Stella and he helps her out. “How about I go over to the diner on Friday? I’ll be there when you get back from daycare. Maybe I’ll even have a surprise,” he offers, whispering the last part in her ear. 
The darling’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree and loosens her arms from his neck. “Okay! I can’t wait to see you. Bye, Daddy. I love you,” she bids adieu. She hops down from his arms and runs to get ready for bed. The quicker she goes to bed, the faster Friday comes. Rafe calls back I love you. The two adults laugh at the child as they watch her run off. The laughter dies down and Y/N turns her body toward Rafe. “It’s okay that I come by on Friday, right?” Rafe confirms with a hopeful smile. 
“Of course, as long as you are sober, I won’t stop you from seeing her. The extra business is good too.” 
“Haha, I’ll make sure to deposit my paycheck before I go in then. Also, please let me know if you need anything. Money for food, rent, toys, clothes, tuition. Anything, okay. I want to pull my weight. She’s my daughter too.”
“I will, I promise. Thank you for coming over tonight. You made her day.”
They both look at each other for a second and then notice the time. “I should probably get going. It’s getting late,” Rafe concludes, taking a step closer to the door. Y/N tries to hide her slight disappointment, “Uh, yeah. Drive safe. See you on Friday.” Rafe nods his head and opens the door. “See you on Friday.” Y/N stays by the door as she watches Rafe walk down her driveway. She waves goodbye to him as he gets into his car and drives away. Once he is out of sight, she closes the door and reflects on the day. It was strange to have Rafe there, but she doesn’t regret the decision. She saw how much he cared for Stella and it solidified the idea in her mind that he is meant to be a father. This is a new kind of normal that she can get used to. 
——
Since Sarah and Rafe moved out of Tannyhill, Ward insisted on having family dinner every week. Everyone knows Sarah’s departure is the main reason why Ward wanted to do so, especially since Ward tried to have just Sarah come to dinner. However, thanks to Sarah, Ward gave in to inviting Rafe. Most dinners start with Ward getting small talk with Rafe about work out of the way before he moves on with asking Sarah about a full second-by-second breakdown of her week. And this Wednesday is not any different, but Rafe has something else other than work to talk to his dad about. 
“Actually, Dad, there is something I want to talk to you about,” Rafe brings to the table, looking Ward dead in his eyes. Ward stops chewing, not really expecting Rafe to have anything else to say. Ward tilts the end of his fork toward Rafe, “Okay, what is it?” “I have a daughter. Her name is Stella. She is three years old, almost four. And she looks exactly like me,” Rafe gets everything out in one go. He may have known about Stella for a month now, but he didn’t want to tell his family until he knew he could step up and be the person his daughter needed. This causes everyone at the table to freeze and look at Rafe in surprise. Ward’s eyes narrow; his brows become one. “What do you mean?” he gets out in a rough tone. 
“I mean that five years ago, I had sex with Y/N and she had a baby nine months after that. I didn’t know about Stella until last month. I didn’t want to tell you guys until I was a month sober and certain that I could be there for her.”
“You better tell me that this is a joke because I can’t believe that you could be that much of a screw-up. How do you even know she is your daughter?”
“I told you, she looks exactly like me.”
“How do you know that’s not because you want to believe she does? How do you know that bitch isn’t lying to you? You were so useless that you didn’t even get a paternity.” 
Rafe stands up at what Ward calls Y/N and points a finger at his father. “You have no right to call her that. I know she isn’t lying because I trust her. I won’t make her get a paternity test,” he yells. Ward lets out a low chuckle, “Okay, fine. Do whatever you want. But I’m going to need you to get a lawyer and write up a contract for child support if that’s what the bitch is after. There is no way you are actually going to raise that kid.” “You need to stop calling the mother of your granddaughter a bitch. And why can’t I raise my daughter? You are always telling me I need to take responsibility and I am. Why can’t you just be proud of me?” he argues, his anger getting to a whole other level. The other members of the dinner see that this fight is not about to end any time soon, so Sarah steps in. “Dad, stop. This isn’t going anywhere. And you should be proud of Rafe. He overcame his addiction just so that he could be a better father. That’s amazing and I’m proud of him for that. I, for one, am excited to meet my niece,” Sarah reasons. Wheezie butts in too, “I want to meet Stella too.” Rafe gives them a thankful smile but gets up angrily.  
“Thank you guys for your support. I’ll talk to Y/N to find out when you can meet Stells. Dad, I wish I could say that I am surprised but I’m not,” he begins. “No matter what I do, I will never compare to Sarah and I won’t force you to meet your granddaughter. I think I’m going to go. Goodbye.” Rafe storms out of the house and slams the door. He gets to his truck and is about to drive away, yet he knows he shouldn’t. If he goes now, he is scared it will lead him to Barry’s. Instead, he pulls out his phone and dials a number that recently entered his contacts. “Hey, Button. Is everything okay?” Her voice is like a light guiding him back to home base. He vehemently shakes his head, “No, I’m not. Do you have time to talk?” Y/N immediately stops what she is doing and gives him her full attention for the whole night. 
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