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#taylor x harry
narryamor · 6 months
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“You kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever.” “Cause you kiss me and it stops time.”
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jediwizard · 7 months
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Percy Jackson TV show is coming. All the Persassy memes are flooding back. Hunger games movie is gonna hit theaters. David Tennant is back for the 60th Anniversary special. A Loki show, mainly centralizing on Loki himself? A new Harry Potter TV show is in the works. 1989 Taylor's version, and she's extremely popular again. A new Maze Runner prequel book. We got a Supernatural prequel last year, and now there are rumors about a Supernatural sequel/s16. The Game of Thrones show, House of Dragons came out last year. Taylor and Harry reunion at the 2023 Grammys. Who the hell summoned 2014 tumblr?
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adoralopez · 10 months
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haylor singing style together but taylor is wearing a white t-shirt and slicked back hair and harry is wearing a tight skirt and red lipstick
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No but the way the general public still believes in haylor so hard is hilarious to me because one direction has a lyric that's HEAVILY rumourd to be about Taylor and if it it is it straight up implies that they were fake.
And if you like cameras flashin' every time we go out
Oh, yeah
And if you're looking for someone to write your breakup songs about
Then baby, I'm perfect
And baby, we're perfect
This lyric if it is indeed about Taylor implies that she *needs* someone to write break up songs about which is weird because it implies she already has break up songs written and just needs someone to pin them too
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bibiliobend · 3 months
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Haylor again
💕💖
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fleuraimer · 5 months
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hi girlies :)). i've got another breeding blurby to share, thank ms. bubbles @harrysonlylover.
wc: 1.6k
cw: talk of menstrual and ovulation cycle, smut, minors dni, 17+, breeding kink, and more. not proofread.
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Some people might say that the extent of his knowledge and control over Y/N’s life is not healthy. They might even suggest that his possessive behavior is a red flag, too. The constant messaging, always knowing her location, who she’s with, when she’s with them, why, how…
They didn’t tend to think of it that way. Love comes in all forms and theirs is… different.
Y/N likes being controlled. She wants him to know everything about her. She fucking craves the comfort of being taken care of for the price of absolutely nothing.
Well, maybe a few things.
Her obedience, for one, was expected (required). Her honesty, and loyalty. Her submission, too (although, sometimes, he liked to submit to her).
They’d found a simple way of living on some inherit, basic principles.
One, Y/N loved to be taken care of.
Two, he loved to take care of her.
So that was that. He was controlling, and she reveled in the power imbalance, and they didn’t care if others didn’t understand it, or like it, or even respect it. It was theirs, and it was enough.
It was fucking perfect.
One of the many ways he kept a tight leash on Y/N’s life was by tracking her menstrual cycle. He liked being ahead of the game—warm bath with waterlily scented suds ready for when she arrived home after her courses, her favorite sweet treats scattered across the kitchen island, Gilmore Girls queued up on his laptop, candles lit and heating pad at attention. Keeping track of her period meant knowing other things, intuitively, too. Like knowing that her cramps were worst on the first few days ( they were horrendous the last days too, though), that she’s more cuddly and soft than irritable or grumpy, that if she was too— no, severely stressed, overworking herself mentally, emotionally, and physically, she’d more likely than not work herself into a dreadful tizzy and end up intensifying (or even sometimes missing) her cycle.
Like now.
The poor thing, she was curled up in a frail little ball by end of the night every day this past week, deadlines looming over her head like a dark, rainy cloud as midterms approach. And, stubborn angel girl she is, she doesn’t bleat and moan about it to him. She doesn’t weep into his chest about how difficult this time is the way he encourages her to. She holds her chin high until the sun falls from the sky, her perseverance going with it, the stars and moon left to keep her and her misery company. And him, of course.
So, before the height of her period—when the red devil actually rears her ugly little head instead of inspiring trepidation of the inevitable with sore tits, an achy spine, and mental anguish—he thinks he’ll treat her a bit. And perhaps himself, as well (what? periods meant ovulating, and ovulating meant a lot of things).
———
Y/N’s head is quiet for the first time in days, and it’s all because of him.
As if anyone else could do what he does for her.
“Pretty girl,” he whispers in the place he’s nuzzled into her neck, littered with love bites and bruises. His cock is stuffed in her drippy pussy, stretching her deliciously over his thick, lengthy girth; his strong, beefy arms trapping her body to his like a vice.
Cowgirl usually makes Y/N’s thighs sore, but he’d taken the liberty of doing all the work tonight. He was in no mood for teasing, nor mocking or degrading. She wasn’t his whore tonight, just his girl. His soft, gorgeous, sensitive girl that deserved a sweet fucking after all the tears she’d choked down this week.
She needed a good cry.
“My little pillow princess, Yeah?” He mumbles, peaking up at her sluggish form. She’s slumped into him, head lain on his shoulder uselessly, hands gripping the tight Henley he’d neglected to rid himself of in the rush of their lustrous dance. She manages a nod, however, lazy and slow, but, somehow, still urgent. Frantic. In the glow of her eye, he can see, she adores that idea. “Yeah,” He nods, gripping the soft curve of her jaw to move her head with him, “My girl.”
She whimpers, but doesn’t speak. Too exhausted, too sedated. His cum is addicting, and if it were a drug, she’d inject it right into her veins (up her cunt).
Her arms wind around his neck, fingers spreading through the curly, sweaty tendrils of hair at the nape. Her nails tickle him, in the best way, only adding to the allure of her being. Of her mere presence.
Her hips swivel, rocking against his to create a mind-numbing sensation that has them both mewling. His cock stretches her out and fills her up completely, felt in the deepness of her tummy. Her lashes flutter when she feels him twitch inside of her, a sign that he’s close (she’d realize that she’s much closer if she had the brain capacity to think of anything other than him).
The thought—of his cum filling her to the point of spilling around their joined parts, a filthy mess between their legs—makes her dizzy. Eager. She’d been good, so good, this week, hadn’t she?
Fed herself, cleaned herself, went to class on time, even though school made her unpleasantly weak in the knees. She studied every day for at least three hours at the library, before trudging home with bleary eyes and a foggy head, only to do more studying.
She deserved a treat, right? A reward for staying in line, for not being bratty or whiny when he was busy and all she wanted was for her brain to shut off.
Now, with the opportunity before her (to go totally brain-dead, that is), she refuses to not seize the moment.
“Come,” she says suddenly, catching him mildly off guard.
Oh? She wanted to order him around?
“Please.”
Oh. Guess not.
“Please, please, come, Sir, I want it, so fucking bad,” she whines, mouthing at the chain sitting delicately across his neck. It’s nearly out of place; something so frail and pretty looks almost comical gracing his large, stocky figure. Perhaps that’s how those judgy people saw them, out of place.
She didn’t care though, she thought it looked nice on him. He made it look nice. Made it better, just like he makes everything better.
“Wan’ me t’a stuff you up, Babydoll?” he grunts, thankful that she’d somehow picked up on his primitive, feral need. Or maybe she just wanted it just as bad. “Fill you with my come and make you m’messy girl?”
“Yes, please,” she cries faintly, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, hiding her face in his neck as the tears finally start to flow.
How precious.
“Okay,” he sighs, his hands trailing from her hips to the plush, full of her ass. “I’ll fill y’up, Sugar.” He lifts her up, letting his cock slip from her fluttering hole to the tip— less than the tip. He smears himself onto her clit, making her jolt, and spanks her in reprimand. “Stay still for Daddy,” he scolds softly. “Lemme do my job.”
She cries pitifully when her thrusts back inside, hard. And he doesn’t lighten up. Not in the slightest. He pounds his cock into her small pussy, chasing his orgasm, trying to claim hers, bullying his way through her tight snatch to find them.
“Play with your pouty clit, Doll,” he offers. “Wan’ y’to come with me; cream my fat cock, Baby.”
Y/N does not need to be told twice.
One hand drops from the back of his head to toy with her swollen button, and it takes three weak twirls of her delicate fingers to get her there. He’s not far behind, nuzzling into her neck once more, mirroring her own position on top of him, groaning out profanities as his orgasm washes over him, from his head to the tips of his toes. He continues to drill his cock into her until his legs give out, trembling beneath her own.
They pant heavily, in unison, into each others necks as they start to come down.
He feels good, accomplished. He can feel that satisfaction rolling off of his girl in waves—felt it throughout their soft session—and it was more than enough to keep him happy. His orgasm was just a much appreciated bonus.
And Y/N… she feels great. Cunt clenching over his half-hard cock, full of him, literally, in every way she could be. Thoughts silenced and replaced with rose hued daydreams, floaty, fuzzy sensations that tingle through her entire body and make her slightly sluggish, slow. She feels fucking amazing.
“Hope it takes…” she admits softly, absently. The phrase slips off of her tongue without thought (we’ve established that their are none left in that subby head of hers), and her tone suggests she’s not expecting a reaction.
He gives her one, anyway.
“Say that again,” he demands, grip on her ass tightening, his voice grumbly, deep, shooting a shiver up her spine.
“Huh?”
“Tell Daddy what the fuck you just said, Babydoll.”
Her eyes round out even more, if possible, lips parted, gazing owlishly. Stupidly.
“Said, ‘I hope it takes,’ Daddy,” She whimpers quietly, squeezing around his, once again, stiff prick.
“Shit,” he hisses, eyes fluttering.
It’s like she wanted to stay locked on his cock all night.
…Oh well.
So be it.
“It’ll take, Sugar,” he says after a few moments of tense silence, shifting her up gently, manhandling her with a softness that makes her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. He presses a chaste kiss to her mouth, sweet. Contradictory.
“Daddy’ll make it take.”
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dilf-lover99 · 1 year
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And I Love Her | J.P.
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Pairing: James Potter x Female Reader
Summary: The 3 times James tries to get the girl and the 1 time he finally does. Or In which James Potter is hopelessly in love with his best friend.
Warnings: so. much. pining., idiots to lovers, miscommunication(s), a dash of angst, some heavy kissing, james potter being the literal definition of boyfriendism
Word Count: 4.8k
a/n: hi ! james potter won the poll and i am so completely okay with it. i really intended for this to be angst but he's just SO boyfriend. this may be my favorite thing i've ever written and i really hope you enjoy it too ! p.s. i missed u guys lots and i'm so grateful you've stuck around after months of crickets from me. love u love u love u<3
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(y/n).
Depending on who you asked, it was only a name. The name of a classmate, or a friend, or yourself, but only a name nonetheless.
Unless you asked James Potter.
It wasn’t only a name. Not to him. To James, it was everything.
Because it was your name.
Your name that hastened his heartbeat with every mention.
Your name that sent a salient stream of blood rushing to his cheeks, tinting them a lucent shade of scarlet.
Your name that, once mentioned, seemed to follow him everywhere, as though the wind itself would begin whispering it, rustling alongside the branches of the whomping willow tree before floating its way over to his ears, sounding sweeter than any melody he’d ever heard before.
To state it simply, James Potter was irrevocably, inconceivably, in love with you.
But saying it that way didn’t seem like enough.
He didn’t just love you with his heart, for his heart could stop beating. And he didn’t only love you with his mind, for his memories could fail him one day. James Potter loved you with the entirety of his soul, with every fibre making up his being. Of that, he was certain.
What he wasn’t certain of however, was how to bare his infatuated soul to you.
After all, how exactly does one tell his best friend he’s besotted with her?
He tried the gentle approach first. 
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The train back to Hogwarts was filling up quickly. Stories of his peers’ summer holidays flow obstreperously through the air as James’ eyes remain glued to the door of him and his friends’ usual compartment.
“Ease off it with the evil eye, Prongs. She’ll be here.” Sirius’ teasing voice breaks James away from his thoughts, which were unsurprisingly fixated on you.
He doesn’t bother denying it, well aware he’s been staring daggers at the door since he stepped foot off platform 9 ¾, anxiously awaiting your appearance after spending the entire summer holiday apart from you.
“Leave him be, Pads. He misses her.” Remus interjects kindly, not lifting his eyes from the well-worn pages of whichever book he’s decided to burrow his attention into for the ride back to Hogwarts.
“Well he can join the bloody club then, can’t he?” Sirius starts, intent on ignoring Remus’ suggestion, “I’ve just about fallen for her myself after spending my entire holiday listening to this git recite his bloody sonnets for her,” he continues with a not-so flattering mimicry of a lovesick James, “It is the east! And (y/n) is the sun. O Romeo!” He throws himself dramatically to the floor on his knees, clasping his hands above his heart.
Peter watches the spectacle with a grin, covering up his chuckle with a cough after James sends him a look of warning. Before James can defend himself against Sirius’ melodrama, the door to their compartment slides open, revealing a beautiful and slightly out of breath you.
And suddenly you’re not the only one who’s out of breath.
You’ve gotten even prettier over the summer, somehow. If somebody had asked James before, if he thought you could possibly have gotten any more beautiful, he’d’ve laughed in their face, telling them tales of how your beauty could put Aphrodite to shame. But now? Now his heart was beating so violently in his chest he was almost certain it was attempting to escape, trying to take its rightful place upon your sleeve.
“Sorry I’m late, I nearly broke my neck out there!” You stop briefly to catch your breath, the jog on your way over winding you more than you’d care to admit. “Someone ought to tell those first-years there’s enough seats on here for the lot of us. I’ve just been walloped by a bloody eleven year old! Cheeky little-” You cease your rambling amidst your confusion at the sight before you, Sirius on his knees at James’ feet.
“Have I interrupted something? Perhaps a proposal of sorts?” You jest, your amusement growing at the wide eyed look on James’ face as he scrambles to stand, coming to greet you properly with a hug that doesn’t last nearly as long as you wish it would.
“No!” He protests instantly, amidst wrapping you in the soft embrace.
“Cor, I’ve missed you.” He mumbles after pulling away, leaving a hand on your back as he gently guides you to your seat beside him, hesitant to do so, as once you’re sat he’ll no longer have an excuse to touch you.
“I missed you more!” Your enthusiasm brings him optimism, there’s a chance she means it the way you do, he thinks, there’s a chance-
“And what of me?” Sirius and his bloody interjections. James has half a mind to lock him out of the ruddy compartment and leave him to fend for himself amongst the overzealous first-years.
“I’m sorry, have we met?” You feign confusion, though not very well, James can see the brilliant smile forming leisurely upon your lips. What I would do to those lips, his thoughts are running rampant after a summer spent away from your presence, too caught up to hear the jokes you and Sirius are trading back and forth, and that laugh! His internal monologue continues, ’s like a proper bloody song. Just ask her, right now. If she says no you can play it off as a joke. It might sting a bit, but surely it’d be better than keeping it all locked away.
“Will you go to Hogsmeade with me? Just us two? We’ll have a lovely time, I swear it.”
He knows what he was hoping you’d say, something along the lines of ‘Yes, James, I’d love to!’ but he wasn’t expecting it.
He also wasn’t expecting your given response.
“That’s a wonderful idea, Jamie, thank you! D’you see that, Sirius? A helpful suggestion. You ought to try one of those sometime.” You’re back to chatting with Sirius and Remus as Peter leans over to James, whispering an explanation to his visibly confused friend.
James had caught you mid-complaint about how you’d forgotten to bring the dittany leaves you need to make the special healing chocolates you gift Remus after a particularly bad full moon. After Sirius’ not-so-helpful suggestion to try substituting them with pot leaves, you gladly welcomed the chance to pop over to Hogsmeade with James and buy some more.
You’d mistaken his date proposal for a shopping trip.
Marvellous.
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This is going to be the year that James tells you how he feels. He’ll make sure of it.
If for no other reason than this was your seventh and final year at Hogwarts together. His stomach churned at the mere idea of allowing you to slip through his fingers for good; you acting as the coarse sand to his adamant hourglass. He wouldn’t have it.
So he’d try again.
In the few weeks since you’ve returned to Hogwarts, your time’s been consumed by studying for your N.E.W.T.s. You’re also determined to acquire a spot in the internship programme at St. Mungo’s. The sheer amount of time you’ve spent there with your boys over the last few years has more than prepared you for a future as a healer if you end up enjoying the work.
“Alright, who was the first witch to extract floo powder?” James has spent the last hour and a half quizzing you on all matters Herbology, if it were anyone else he’d’ve been bored to slumber by now. But it wasn’t anyone else, it was you.
The two of you were sat outside together on a blanket, taking full advantage of the uncharacteristically sunny day. James is leaned comfortably back against a tree as you sit across from him, simultaneously taking notes and answering each of his questions without pause.
“Ignatia Wildsmith. Ravenclaw. Come ‘ead James, I’ve told you to stop going easy on me! Every seventh-year applying will know all of these.” Bloody lucky I love her so much, James thinks to himself, I thought that was a hard one.
He’d like to laugh your nerves away, crack a few jokes and tell you that you may be going a bit overboard. You’re going to get the internship, and not just because you’re brilliant and perfectly qualified, but also because your Herbology professor had written a glowing recommendation letter singing your praises.
But he can’t find it in himself to mess around when you’ve got that adorable little wrinkle between your eyebrows displaying your worry, and your lips have turned down into a delectably kissable pout. It takes nearly everything in him not to brush it away with his own lips. 
“(y/n),” He starts, wetting his lips with his tongue as he desperately attempts to keep his thoughts from overtaking his voice, “It’s going to be alright, I promise. You’re more than ready for this. Why don’t we try taking a little break?” His heart feels as though it’s leapt into his throat when you glance at him and send a delicate smile of gratitude.
“I’m sorry, Jamie. We’ve been at this for hours, you must be exhausted of me by now.” You smile, more cheerful this time as you realize a break is precisely what you need.
James can’t contain the laugh that escapes him.
Exhausted? Of you? 
The absurdity of thinking he could ever grow tired of you was an inherently laughable concept to him.
He’s nearly clutching his stomach when he finally manages to compose himself, making heart-stopping eye contact with his equally amused and puzzled best friend.
“Are you mad?” James’ dimpled smile sets a kaleidoscope of butterflies aflutter in your stomach, “I’d spend all my hours with you if I could.” He means it with every atom that makes up his being, he’s meant it for years but now he’s actually saying it to you.
Your smile grows wider with each word he speaks, your own thoughts matching the underlying sentiment of his articulation more than he could ever know.
“I-” He pauses, inhaling deeply and squeezing his eyes shut tightly in an effort to maintain his courage, “I love you.” You did it, he thinks to himself proudly, you actually bloody did it, Prongs! He exhales shakily, reinitiating eye contact with you as a small smile begins to blossom on his tender lips.
“James,” Your voice holds an underlying tone of sadness that causes an adorable crinkle of confusion to settle between James’ eyebrows, “I love you too.” You smile tightly, almost as though it’s causing you discomfort to do so.
“You do?” James is more perplexed now than he had been when you’d explained to him in painstaking detail the intricate relationships between each member of Fleetwood Mac the first time the two of you listened to Rumours together.
“Of course I do,” Your smile stretches intimately, the somber quality of your voice never wavering, “You’re my best mate, after all.”
Best mate? James thinks, is that really all she sees?
Had he not been so caught up in his own racing thoughts, he may have picked up on yours. He may have realized that his situation was holding a gargantuan mirror up to your own, casting a perfect reflection of the feelings within.
Best mates, you internally chastise yourself, that’s all he sees.
A proper bloody mirror.
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“It was completely humiliating, Pads. She might as well’ve called me her bloody brother.” James has been yammering on about what happened that day for the past three weeks. Three weeks. Sirius is going positively mad, somehow having become James’ sounding board to rehash his complaints every time he remembers the encounter.
“I mean, how am I supposed to tell the girl I’d like to spend the rest of my life with her now?” James is pacing back and forth agitatedly at the foot of Sirius’ bed, as the aforementioned boy lays back uninterestedly, wishing his duvet would come to life and swallow him whole in an effort to escape the worlds most redundant conversation.
“She’d probably tell you that sounds lovely. Make you her future child’s godparent.” Sirius jokes dryly.
James abandons his invisible footpath, a wave of panic comically widening his warm hazel eyes substantially.
“She what?”
“For Merlin’s sake, Prongs! I can’t take any more of this,” Sirius sits up agitatedly, now far beyond his capacity for James’ lovesick commentaries, “Just go tell her. Right now.”
“Are you mad? Have you not just heard everything I’ve said?” James would normally find humour in Sirius’ lackadaisical attitude, but confessing his feelings for you was an entirely serious matter with no margin for error.
“Oh I’ve heard it, Prongs. For the past three weeks. And the entire bloody summer. And every single year before that.” He moves to stand in front of James, his agitation fading into sincerity, “I know how you feel, Prongs. But does she?” James swallows thickly as Sirius continues, “I don’t mean just telling her you love her, I mean telling her how you love her. As more than a friend. Maybe she feels the same way.”
James takes his time considering Sirius’ words. He’s tried to tell you, clearly, but he assumed that you’d only seen him as a friend. But what if you hadn’t? What if Sirius is right, and you told him you loved him as a friend because you’d assumed that’s what he’d meant when he said it?
“I’m a proper git, aren’t I?” James concludes aloud.
“Most certainly, Prongsy. It’s why I keep you around,” Sirius’ playful mood returns swiftly, “Makes me feel better about myself.” 
You’re talking softly with Remus in the library, voices low enough not to disrupt your peers but just detectable enough for James to catch your words when he finds you, internally preparing his declaration of unwavering devotion for you.
“You’re not going out with him, are you?” Remus’ hushed voice holds a curious tone.
“Of course not, Rem.” You smile softly, “Could you honestly imagine that? Him and I dating?”
James’ eyebrows furrow together in confusion, he presses himself slightly against a nearby bookshelf in an attempt to hear your conversation more clearly.
“No, I guess not,” Remus chuckles faintly, “It would certainly make things awkward if they didn’t work out. Being friends and all.” 
“No kidding.” You chuckle good-naturedly. 
James feels like a bag of cement has been poured down his throat, constricting his lungs and settling into a block of concrete in the pit of his stomach.
Sirius had been wrong. You didn’t love James as more than a friend, in fact, you’d practically laughed at the thought of it. In his hasty escape from the scene of the melancholic crime, James neglected to hear the rest of your conversation with Remus.
“He’s a lovely lad, truly,” You smile genuinely, “Any girl would be lucky to call Amos Diggory her boyfriend. We’re just better as friends is all.” You trail off, leaving out the part where your heart already belongs to another shared friend of yours and Remus’.
It’s not like it was ever going to happen anyway. Your love for James Potter was entirely unreciprocated.
Wasn’t it?
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James is avoiding you.
As painful as it is to spend each never-ending moment of spare time away from you, James can only think of how much more agonizing it would be to spend those moments with you.
To fix his loving gaze on your sparkling eyes, only to find them filled with affections one would hold only for a friend.
To accomplish the feat of bringing a luminous smile to your delicate lips, only to remember those lips would never brush tenderly against his own.
To be so close to the girl he loves, only to be denied her heart in equal measure.
It’s easier, in a sense, to push you away.
It’s only temporary, just until he can stomach the thought of spending the rest of his life as your best mate and nothing more.
But it’s been weeks, and the idea still makes his head feel like it’s underwater, like he’s fighting to reach the surface but his leg’s been caught on a viciously determined blade of seaweed.
Still, he’s convinced himself that this is his best course of action.
Unbeknownst to James, however, you’ve been going stark raving mad.
You’ve hardly spoken to him in weeks. When you think about it, you’ve barely even seen him, save for a few quick glimpses in your classes and across the dining tables in the Great Hall.
You’ve tried to talk to him, clearly something is bothering him. Maybe you’ve said or done something to upset him without realizing it. But he’d brushed you off before you could even get out the words ‘are you alright?’
You’d asked Remus, Sirius, and Peter about it, each of them giving you vague semblances of justification that fell entirely flat, a few “He’s just busy with quidditch”s and a couple of “Must be studying today”s. You’ve grown tired of the excuses and you’re determined to get to the bottom of it yourself.
You’re leaning picturesquely against the wall outside of the lad’s changing room when James finally sees you again. His curly hair is spilling droplets of water from the shower he’s just taken, successfully washing away the evidence of his quidditch practice.
You’re beautiful. That’s all he can think as he finally allows himself to take you in fully for the first time in weeks. He feels like he’s been holding his breath since he saw you last and now he can finally exhale, a sense of euphoria filling his chest as his lungs deflate mercifully.
“Hi.” You state gently, a delicate smile painted daintily across your lips.
“Hi.” James echoes once he’s relearned the inhale-exhale repetition of breathing again.
“I waited for you,” You start after a brief silence, “Which- You can see that, obviously.” You chuckle a ebullient breath that causes a small smile to form on James’ face, Merlin, I’ve missed that, he thinks as you continue. “I just, um- I thought maybe we could talk?” You’re fiddling with your fingers, a nervous habit of yours that James has long since memorized by now.
He instantly reaches for your hands, tenderly taking one in his own and carefully intertwining your fingers together with his. The action is like second nature, he hardly thinks twice about it.
You smile visibly at the act of comfort, if he’s upset with you and that’s the reason he’s been avoiding you, it makes your heart skip a beat that he’s putting it all aside to calm you down when you’re anxious.
“About what?” He tries, though you both know that’s not going to work.
“Nice,” You smile teasingly, “Want to give it a real go this time?”
James swallows something akin to a lump in his throat, averting his resplendent hazel gaze from your eyes to land somewhere along the floor as he overthinks which approach he should take.
He could try honesty. Yes, he thinks, because that would go over proper well. I’m avoiding you cause I’ve been gutted since I heard you’re not in love with me. Surely she’ll find that real mature, Prongs.
He could also try lying his arse off. And that would work, he sarcastically chastises silently, Me? Oh nothing’s wrong at all. Just tired, y’know? Practice and homework and the like. As if she’s ever believed a lie you’ve told her before.
He finally chances resuming eye contact with you, heartbeat hastening expeditiously as his hazel orbs lock onto your patently awaiting eyes. You should be looking far more frustrated, James wouldn’t blame you if you were. You have every right to be upset, and yet you’re not.
Instead, you’re you. 
You, who’s calmly awaiting a response, fingers still gently intertwined with James’. 
You, who’s looking at him with soft, sparkling eyes, eyes that are silently promising him no matter what he says, everything is going to be alright.
You, the girl he loves more than anything in the world.
“You.” He states after an implicit eternity.
“Me?” Your features mix together to create a perfectly darling display of confusion that, even despite the circumstances, causes a modest smile to tug upwards at the corners of James’ mouth.
“I’ve been avoiding you.” He conveys, sounding as though he’s just revealed to you a hidden secret you’d’ve never otherwise been able to uncover.
You can’t contain the short laugh that escapes you, a smile taking its rightful place on your face. “Yeah, ‘m not exactly Sherlock Holmes, but I managed to put that one together.”
James can’t subdue the traces of guilt that seep onto his face.
“I was hoping maybe we could talk about why. If I’ve done something to upset you-”
“No!” James cuts you off, “No, love, you haven’t done anything. Nothing you could control anyway.” His voice is less than half of its usual volume at the last sentence he utters.
Your face is back to holding that adorably confused expression that James so desperately yearns to kiss away.
“I have to admit, Jamie, I’ve got no idea what you’re on about.”
James sighs, finally releasing the hand that’s been holding comfortably on to your own and running it through his leisurely drying hair. He releases a sigh of distress and squeezes his eyes shut firmly in an attempt to figure out the best way to explain himself.
“If you’re not upset with me, then why have you been avoiding me?” You’re trying to put it together on your own as James is proving to be no help, “Wait a mo! Is this some kind of prank or something?” You smile, though you’re not entirely certain you’re correct yet, “Are you trying to get back at me for dying your knickers pink? Because that was an accident!” 
James can’t help but smile at your incorrect deduction. Merlin she’s adorable he thinks, how am I supposed to tell her now?
“Yes!” James concludes untruthfully, “You got me. Just a prank. Might’ve gone a bit too far with it though. Sorry ‘bout that, love.”
He brings you into a hug and, after going weeks without it, it feels like home.
You feel like home.
You’re hugging James, after having just gone weeks without it. And you just know. 
You have to tell him.
You have to tell him, right now, that you’re in love with him.
And so you do.
“I love you.” You state breathlessly, pulling away from the warm solace of his embrace and looking bravely into his glimmering hazel eyes.
James nods his head mechanically, as if he’s agreeing to your suggestion on what to have for dinner and not taking in the confession of eternal love you’ve just spouted.
“Yes, I love you too,” He smiles a tight, strained smile, “Mate.” He punctuates his final word by bumping his fist gently into your shoulder.
Oh, you think, I’m going to have to spell it out for him, aren’t I?
“No, James. I love you,” You take a step closer to him, not breaking eye contact despite the nerves that are jostling around your insides like a violent sea in a raging storm, taking a deep breath before exhaling somewhat expeditiously, you continue, “Like- Like, I’m in love with you.”
The first thing James feels in that moment are his eyes widening emphatically behind his round-rimmed glasses, his dark lashes making direct contact with the top of his eyelids. He’s certain he must have heard you wrong, that or he’s understood you wrong.
The second thing he feels is hope. What if he hadn’t understood you wrong?
The third thing he feels is his heart, beating faster than it ever has before, so fast he thinks it might be ready to do him in for good. Surely a heart shouldn’t be beating that fast.
“You’re in love? With me?” James speaks disbelievingly, though he’s unable to hide the traces of optimism he’s feeling as a modest smile begins to form on his face.
You nod your head assuredly, a genial smile of your own starting at the sight of his, “Yes, I’m in love with you. Madly, in fact.”
You’ve spent months, years even, deliberating on how you would tell James, if you would tell James. You’d spent countless hours wondering how he would react and what would happen after all was said and done.
You’d planned to tell him all about that. About how long you’ve felt this way, when it started and why it’s taken you so long to tell him, how you were too afraid of risking your best friend should anything have gone wrong.
What you hadn’t planned on was what happened the second you got the last word out.
James eagerly presses his plush lips onto your own, savouring the long overdue sensation of your mouth against his. He tenderly brushes your bottom lip with his tongue once he feels you respond to the kiss with equal fervour. Enthusiastically, you grant his tongue access into your mouth, pulling him closer to you by the roots of his damp hair.
James lets out a low groan at the contact, pulling you flush against his body by your waist, his hands hungrily gripping onto you for dear life as, somehow, the kiss deepens even further.
When the need for oxygen outweighs your mutual need for each others lips, you reluctantly part the slightest of distances, foreheads resting tenderly against one another.
“I’m in love you too. So bloody madly.” James whispers contentedly with a lovesick grin. 
You’re each donning smiles brighter than you can ever recall before.
The moment you’ve caught your breath you’re back at it again in full force, gripping at each others clothes and tangling nimble fingers through the other’s hair. James pulls back when your beaming smile makes it a little harder for him to kiss you, returning a smile just as wide that compels you to pull him back in for another kiss, or two, or three.
When the two of you finally feel satiated enough, James pulls back again, a noticeably farther distance. He’s still smiling but it isn’t quite as bright as it was a moment ago.
“What was all that about in the library, then? With Moony?” He asks you the question that’s been clawing at his insides for the last few weeks.
You pause, visibly confused as you shuffle through the files of your memories until you land on one a few weeks ago with Remus in the library. The two of you were discussing a friend who’d asked you on a date. You’d declined as politely as you could, valuing his friendship but knowing your heart had long since been beating for James.
“What about it?” You smile confusedly.
“Well, you were talking about me, weren’t you?” James looks down to the floor, expression now almost devoid of the happiness that had previously overtaken every inch of his face.
“What?” You laugh briefly before it registers, not just his words, but the reason he’s been avoiding you for the last few weeks.
“Wait- James!” You tilt your head into his line of vision, gently cradling his face with your hand as you turn his head to face you fully, “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? You thought.. Oh, Merlin.”
You pull him into a hug, holding him tight enough to convey just how wrong he’s been.
“I was talking about Amos Diggory.” You state with a gentle exhale, something between a laugh and a sigh, pulling back you rest your arms at your sides. “He asked me to dinner.”
James doesn’t hide the relief that courses through his body, despite the slight scoff of jealousy he lets out at your final sentence.
“But,” You wrap your arms back around him in reassurance, looking up into his eyes that are once again sparkling with happiness, “I’ve been a tad busy, being in love with my best friend and all. So I told him no. Obviously.”
“Right, obviously.” James replies with a cheeky smile that makes your heart skip a beat.
“You’re a git, you know.” You roll your eyes, the action a mixture of lovesickness and frustration. “You could’ve just asked me then. Instead of hiding in the books like a proper stalker. And then avoiding me. For weeks,” You’re smiling, but you know you’re still getting your point across, “You git.” You punctuate your final word with a gentle swat to James’ chest, smiling adoringly when he grabs that hand and brings it up to his lips, placing a tender kiss to it before dropping your intertwined hands back at your side.
“I know,” He admits apologetically, “I’m sorry.” He’s smiling breathtakingly, “Still love me?”
You can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him, because in some roundabout way, it’s what led you to this moment right now, where you can reach over and kiss him if you want to.
And you want to. 
Pulling him into you by the fabric of his shirt, you plant another kiss upon James’ lips. The passion and tenderness in the kiss meld together just as perfectly as your lips do.
“Yes.” You mumble happily when your mouths finally break apart. “Always.”
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in-my-feels-probably · 8 months
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Hi there, hope you're doing well. I would love to request a fic where the reader is Sirius' wife who reunites with him after he escapes from Azkaban, takes care of him e.g. feeding him and grooming him, and helping him get better. Cheers!
Right Where You Left Me
Request: I would love to request a fic where the reader is Sirius' wife who reunites with him after he escapes from Azkaban, takes care of him e.g. feeding him and grooming him, and helping him get better.
Hi! I’m so sorry for the wait, it took me forever to get to this request, and even longer to finish it. I’ve been in a bit of a slump, but I feel better. I love this request, thank you so much for sending it in! I hope you enjoy it :)
(Warnings: swearing, mentions of azkaban and sirius’s treatment there, mentions of death, vague mention of nudity, let me know if i missed anything)
When you received the Patronus from Remus telling you Sirius had escaped from Azkaban, it brought you to your knees. 
You thought about him every day. But you could only ever picture him in the days before he was arrested. It hurt too much to think about him rotting away in prison. But hearing that he got out? That he was out in the world and could be anywhere by now? The fact that he was suddenly much closer to you than you thought he would ever be again?
It terrified you.
You married Sirius right after school ended and the war was beginning to pick up. He proposed on a whim, telling you that the rest of your days weren’t guaranteed, and he didn’t want to live through another day without you tied to him. You would have always been by his side, but this was tying more than just your lives together—it was your souls. When Harry was born, you were named his godparents. All was well for a while. Calm, even. Of course, the calm didn’t last. 
It wasn’t long after your marriage before that night in Godric’s Hollow came, and Sirius was taken away from you. 
But it wasn’t just Sirius. 
It was James, Lily, and Peter—even Mary. Marlene was in the weeks before, and Dorcas too. They were ripped away from you, far before you were ready to let them go. Remus was the only one who you kept in touch with after that night. You clung to each other in the weeks after, seeming to be the only people in the world the other could find solace in. But as the years passed, your visits and letters became few and far in between. 
Then—after all that time—another Patronus came. 
Sirius had come to Hogwarts, and he’d proved his innocence to those who mattered. It was Peter who had betrayed everyone, and he was still alive. 
And, while Sirius had you and Remus on his side, he was still considered a fugitive. The Aurors were after him, and he needed to be kept some place safe where they wouldn’t come looking. Luckily for you, the flat you bought was outside of Wizarding London. Sirius had always loved the feeling of places untouched by magic, so after you married, you moved in together in a quiet area on the outskirts of London. It was his idea to use magic to ward it so that people looking for you would have a hard time, and after so long away from the Wizarding community, not many people would think it was worth it or even remember to come looking for Sirius in hiding with you.
After twelve years of solitude, you couldn’t fathom the idea of your husband coming back to you. You couldn’t fathom the idea of him being part of your day to day life again. All you could do to keep yourself together was tidy up and prepare for Sirius’s arrival.
You couldn’t believe it when Remus finally brought him home to you. 
Your boy—who was a man now, or at least the shell of one—was sitting right in your living room. The only home he had ever known outside of Grimmauld Place or Hogwarts, and he couldn’t have looked more out of place. 
Neither of you spoke when Remus eased him down onto the couch, before coming to your side. You’d always pictured that by some miracle if Sirius ever came home to you, you’d rush into his arms and he’d hold you like no time had passed. You spent years missing his touch, wishing you could hug him just one more time. But now he was right in front of you, and you had no idea how to act. You didn’t know if he even wanted you to touch him. You couldn’t take your eyes off Sirius, eyes wide as you looked him over. 
Time had not been kind to him. 
You could see the man you once knew bleeding through, but so much of this version of him was unknown to you. Sirius kept his eyes on the floor, but would occasionally glance up at you. You knew he was seeing a stranger, too.
“I have to go back,” Remus whispered, turning your attention to him. “They’ll know what’s happened back at Hogwarts if I don’t leave soon, and too many people know what’s happened already. I’m sorry. I’ll come back as soon as I can, yeah?”
You could hardly hear him, but you quickly nodded, giving him a squeeze. “Be careful, Remus. I’ll take care of him while you’re gone.”
“I know you will,” he murmured, squeezing you tight.
He let you go, kneeling down next to Sirius who was watching you both with a look full of anxiety. Remus placed a hand on Sirius’s shoulder, his touch light and gentle.
“I have to go, alright? But you’re safe here. I promise. It’s just Y/N.”
Just Y/N, Sirius thought. He just nodded, a conflicted look on his face. Remus stood up, giving you one last look of sympathy, before walking out the door. He left a deafening silence in his wake.
It took you forever to get your feet to move. But when you did, you were falling. You landed on your knees just in front of Sirius, peering up at him through teary eyes. You could see him take a breath, stilling as you got closer.
“Can I touch you?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper.
Sirius swallowed hard. He gave you an almost imperceptible nod, and you gently reached your hand up, your fingertips hovering over his face. Taking a breath, you cradled his cheek in your palm. You could feel the stubble along his jaw, and the sharpness off his cheek. His skin was cool, far from the usual flush you remembered from all those years ago.
“You’re really here,” you murmured, your voice catching in your throat. “Oh, love. You’re so beautiful.”
Your words pulled a pained whimper from Sirius’s chest. He nestled his face into your hand, a few stray tears pooling in your palm. You were quick to wipe them away, leaning in close. He tilted his head down, resting his forehead against yours. He took a deep breath, taking you in.
“I pictured your face every day, and I still think I’ll never get tired of looking at you. How could I? You’re right here in front of me, as beautiful as the day I lost you. But you’ve always been the pretty one in this relationship, haven’t you?”
You let out a watery laugh, shaking your head. “In my dreams. But it’s good to see your sense of humor is still intact.”
The next few moments were quiet, nothing but the sound of sniffles and shaky breaths reaching your ears. 
Finally, Sirius forced himself to look around. He’d braced himself from the moment he walked in to see all that had changed since he left. He’d expected you to move on and live your life without him, and he’d expected the flat to reflect that. It was honestly more of a shock to him when Remus told him you still lived there than anything else. But as he looked around and took everything in, he realized how wrong he had been. 
“You haven’t changed a thing,” he said, looking at the art on the walls you’d picked out together when you first moved in.
You glanced around as well. You wanted to tell him how you didn’t have the heart to change anything. And although seeing him in everything around you felt like you were being stabbed, you just couldn’t get rid of anything. Getting rid of it would mean getting rid of all you had left of him.
And you would have rather been stabbed a thousand times than do that.
You shook your head, pointing to the spare room. “Actually, Remus lived here for a while. He pretty much flipped that whole room. Said something about you having too expensive a taste for him to have to endure for extended periods of time.”
“Merlin, I bet it looks like grunge threw up in there,” he mused, making you smile and nod.
You stood up, offering him your hands. “Are you hungry? We need to get you fed and cleaned up, love.”
Sirius looked down to the robes he was wearing. They were tattered—resembling rags stitched together more than they were resembling clothes. His hair was greasy and matted to his head, and his face and body was caked in dirt. He had almost forgotten just how dirty he was, a flush spreading across his cheeks as he gave you an embarrassed look. 
“It’s alright, darling,” you said softly, taking his hands in yours. “We’ll take it at your pace. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
Reluctantly, Sirius nodded. You smiled, gently leading him up off the sofa and into the kitchen.
It took ages to find him something to eat. 
You nearly keeled over when he told you that pretty much the only thing he had been given to eat for the past twelve years was bread and water. It was what he’d grown accustomed to eating, and he wasn’t sure he could stomach anything else. You had to choke back tears when you finally suggested soup—one of the first things he learned to make on his own without magic. It took a while, but he managed to get most of it down. 
You made small talk while he ate, telling him little things he’d missed while he was gone. You left out the most painful details. You could tell him about those later.
Finally, he couldn’t stall anymore. 
He let you take him by the hand and lead him to the bathroom, his eyes on the floor as you shut the door behind him.
“Shower or bath?” You asked, turning the water on to let it heat up. “A bath might be easier. You look tired, and I don’t want you falling over or something.”
Sirius just nodded, and you assumed he was alright with you choosing for him. You let the tub fill up, making sure the water wasn’t too hot before you turned the faucet off. You turned back around, frowning when you saw Sirius looking back at you with anxious eyes.
“It’s ready,” you said softly, stepping out of the way.
Sirius watched you for a moment, fidgeting back and forth on his heels. Just as you opened your mouth to speak again, he beat you to it.
“Can you turn around?” He asked, lowering his eyes to the floor. “I don’t mind if you stay, but could you…could you maybe turn around for this part?”
You quickly nodded, stepping towards the door. “Of course! I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask if you wanted me in here—”
He was quick to speak, his voice shaky. “I do! But this is just a little weird, you know?”
You nodded, backing up to the doorway and turning to face it. You could feel the heat creep up to your cheeks as you heard his clothes hit the floor, followed by the sound of him climbing into the tub. You had seen Sirius naked a thousand times before. He was never ashamed of his body, he never shied away, and you had seen plenty of him in your years of knowing him. This version of him made your chest tighten, and all you could do was stand there and hope he wasn’t feeling the emotions you were. You waited another moment before talking over your shoulder.
“Do you need anything, love? I’ll wait outside if you want me to. Unless you want me here. I’m happy to do whatever you want, it’s up to you.”
Sirius cleared his throat. “Uh…could you maybe help me? My hair is matted and I don’t think I can fix it on my own.”
There was probably a spell you could have used—some sort of detangling charm to help get the mats out. But Sirius had gotten used to not being able to use magic, and you didn’t feel like using it either. The truth was, you preferred it this way.
It was an excuse to get close to him again and spend time with him.
It was an excuse to take care of him.
You nodded, turning around to grab your brush. You kept your eyes on his as you sat down on the edge of the tub, trying your best not to let your eyes wander. You set your brush on your knees, reaching for a cup off the ledge of the tub to dip down into the water and fill up.
“Tilt your head back for me, love,” you directed, smoothing your hand over his hairline as he tipped back far enough for you to pour the water over his hair.
You repeated the process a few more times before setting the cup down and grabbing the conditioner. You smoothed it through his hair, gently tugging at the knots with your fingers before you grabbed your brush. It was silent while you worked, making slow but steady progress. Eventually, Sirius shifted, and the water sloshed just over the side of the tub.
“Sorry,” he muttered, looking over his shoulder with guilty eyes to see if he splashed you.
“Don’t be,” you replied quickly, smoothing a comforting hand across his shoulder before moving back up to his hair. “Are you alright? Getting cold?”
Sirius opened his mouth to speak, before deciding against it and closing it. He just shook his head, growing silent once more. You knew there was something he wasn’t saying, and you didn’t want to push him. But you hadn’t made much progress with his hair, and you didn’t fancy sitting in silence for the rest of the evening.
You set your brush down, gently smoothing your palm over his hair. “Sirius…you can tell me anything. You know that, right? I know this feels strange, but it’s still me you’re talking to. Alright? It’s me. There’s nothing you can’t tell me. Whatever it is, I’m here to listen.”
There was another splash as he shifted, twisting around to face you. He was going to say that he’d tell you another time, and that he didn’t have it in him to say it just yet. 
But then he looked into your eyes.
And you were looking at him with such sincerity and warmth that he couldn’t help but spill. You watched his eyes fill with tears, and you quickly reached for his hand which he gladly let you take.
“I saw Harry,” he finally choked out.
You felt your breath catch in your chest. A deep sorrow spread through you, filling your gut with dread. You could feel your own tears stinging behind your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. It wasn’t the time for them.
“He looks just like them, doesn’t he?” You breathed, squeezing Sirius’s hand. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Remus promised he’d say hello for me once he got to Hogwarts.”
“He knows who you are?” Sirius asked, his voice full of surprise.
“Dumbledore wouldn’t tell me where he was when they came for him. The bastard said I was “in no shape” to look after him, and it was too dangerous for me to get involved. I tried so many times to get him to tell me, but I knew he had already pushed me and Remus to the back of the list as far as who could be around Harry…I didn’t even catch a glimpse of him until he was eight. Merlin, you have no idea how angry I was when I found out they had given him to Petunia and her sorry excuse for a husband.”
Sirius’s jaw clenched. You could see the anger brewing inside him, watching as he took deep breaths to calm himself. But he didn’t let it out on you. He just squeezed your hand, tightening his grip.
Sirius cleared his throat. “Did you try and go get him?”
“Dumbledore threatened to have my magic taken away if I didn’t leave the matter be. He didn’t tell me anything about Harry or where he was kept hidden away. He just brought me a picture of him, and promised that when it was finally time for Harry to go to Hogwarts, he’d let me see him. Remus had to keep an eye on me till he was sure I wouldn’t do something stupid before that time came. He’d been waiting as long as me—he’s just better than me at patience, I guess.”
“You never were very good at being patient,” Sirius mused, but you could hear the strain in his voice as he spoke.
You gave him a tight lipped smile, trying your best to mean it. “Anyway, I met Harry for the first time in Diagon Alley. Dumbledore finally let me see him under the condition that it be in a public and magical place—but I wasn’t allowed to tell him about you.”
Sirius frowned, and you could feel your chest tighten. You ran your thumb along the back of his hand, your eyes in your lap.
“I wanted to tell him—so badly. But Dumblefore wouldn’t let me. All I could say was that I was a friend of Harry’s parents, and that I was there to help him get ready for school. I finally told him I was his godmother last summer when I took him for school supplies again. He spent the afternoon asking me about how I knew his parents. He kept pressing for every detail about them and how I knew them, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I told him everything about James and Lily I could remember. It just about killed me—”
Your words caught in your throat, cutting you short. Sirius reached his other hand up to reach for yours, his brows furrowing in concern. You looked up, giving him a sad smile.
You swallowed, choking back tears. “He’s so like them, Sirius. He’s got James’s ridiculous hair, and Lily’s fire. I can hardly look at him without seeing her eyes staring back at me. It’s so fucking unfair.”
A pained sound was pulled from Sirius’s throat, and you stopped yourself from talking about James and Lily any further. You grabbed the brush again, burying your nose in your work as you tried to ignore the sorrow you caught in his eyes before he turned his head straight.
“Tell me about it,” you prompted, changing the subject. “Tell me about him.”
Sirius was quiet a moment, like he was trying to find the right words. “He was…beautiful.”
You smiled, nodding for him to continue as you worked the knots out of his hair.
“He’s got this little witch by his side who quite honestly scared me—”
“Hermione,” you finished for him, grinning. “She’s a wonder, isn’t she? Ron, too.”
Sirius nodded, wringing his hands. “I’m glad Harry has someone. They seem like good friends. He’ll at least have them by his side to keep him from getting into too much trouble. He’ll certainly have a better shot than we did.”
You chuckled, smoothing your hand over his hair. “Remus told me he’s doing really well. It was a big year for him, but…he’ll be alright. We’ll see to that now.”
Sirius stiffened, turning around to face you. You paused what you were doing, setting down the brush. His eyes were lowered, his voice quiet as he spoke.
“I told him he could come stay with me, at least once it was safe to and he was able. I wasn’t really thinking about where that would be. My first thought was Grimmauld Place, but I don’t think I can stomach having him there. It’s not right. But I didn’t think to ask you—”
“Sirius, love,” you interrupted, gently cupping his cheek. “This is your home. You can invite whoever you want—you don’t have to ask my permission. And Harry will always be welcome here. If it’s what he wants, he can come stay with us. It can be his home too.”
His eyes softened, and his shoulders fell as he let out a breath of relief. “Merlin, I missed you.”
You could feel yourself growing emotional again, but you refused to let it show. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak without your eyes welling with tears. You just cleared your throat as you leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his shoulder.
“Tilt your head back for me again, darling,” you managed to whisper, rinsing his hair out. “Almost done. We’ll get you cleaned up so you can rest, alright?”
Not long after, you had Sirius clean and out of the tub, bundled up under the pile of blankets you had dragged over to your bed. He looked a bit ridiculous buried under them all, but it made you smile seeing him comfortable, and he was very happy to oblige you. 
You laid next to him, under a considerably less amount of layers. “Warm enough?”
A warm laugh came from next to you as Sirius rolled over to face you. “Yeah, I think I’m all set, darling.”
You smiled, and the room fell into a comfortable silence. Out of habit—one you didn’t even know you still had—you reached for his hand under the sheets. You used to always wind down every night like this, cherishing the time you had together. You never knew how much longer you’d be able to do it with the war raging on, and you both got quite used to doing this each night. 
Sirius stiffened in surprise when he felt your fingers reach his, but he quickly recovered once he realized what you were doing. He let you take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers.
“This bed is so soft,” he murmured, tilting his chin down to look at you. “I forgot how soft it was.”
You tried not to let your mind wander, thinking about the sleeping conditions he would have had in Azkaban. He would tell you one day about what it was like there. 
Neither of you were prepared to talk about it just yet.
“Do you wanna sleep somewhere else? I could make up the couch—”
“No, love,” he said, squeezing your hand. “This is good.”
You nodded, resting your head against the pillow. Another silence fell over the room. You shuffled to get a little closer, absentmindedly tracing your thumb along the back of his hand. Sirius let out a heavy sigh, drawing your attention up to him. You waited for him to speak, lying still until he looked down and his eyes met yours. There was a pain in them you couldn’t describe.
“Did you think I did it?”
You sucked in a breath, your grip on his hand tightening. You could feel his eyes on you as you frowned, bring your joined hands up from under the sheets to rest on top of the blanket.
You had been waiting for him to ask you this.
You knew he must have spent the past decade wondering what you thought happened. He’d sat in that cell all alone, thinking his wife thought he was a cold blooded murderer who had killed her best friends. 
The world thought he was a killer. Why wouldn’t you?
You dropped his hand, gently reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin was warm against yours, a pink flush spreading. Was he embarrassed? Ashamed? You didn’t know. You caressed his cheek, giving him a sad smile. You could see his eyes welling with tears.
“No,” you finally said, your voice sure. “I didn’t think it was you. I didn’t know what had happened, but I didn’t think it was you.”
Sirius let out a breath, his voice cracking. “Really?”
You swallowed hard, nodding.
“You would have died before ever hurting James—and you would have done a lot worse to save him. There wasn’t a single part of me that thought you could have killed James and Lily. I just couldn’t fathom it. There was no one in this world you loved more than them, and I knew that it couldn’t have been you. I didn’t know they had made Peter the secret keeper last minute, and I didn’t know where his body was if he was supposed to be dead, but I knew you had absolutely nothing to do with it. I think Remus knew it too…deep down. He thought I was crazy with the theories I was coming up with to try and absolve you. But he never truly blamed you—and eventually, we stopped talking about it all together. It hurt too much to keep trying to solve the mystery. It was easier to let it go.”
Fresh tears spilled, and Sirius was quick to wipe them away. Your heart ached at his kindness, even after all these years. All these years of solitude when you had left him behind, and yet, he was the one consoling you.
“I’m so sorry,” you choked out, composing yourself the best you could. “I’m so sorry I didn’t try harder to get you back. I’m so sorry you had to suffer there all those years while I got to just keep living my life. You don’t know how sorry I am. Please forgive me, Sirius.”
Sirius quickly shook his head, his palm resting against your cheek. “None of that, pretty girl. It’s not your fault—”
“But it is,” you tried to say, but he just kept shaking his head.
“Well, I don’t care—it doesn’t matter…I don’t blame you. I never blamed you, darling. So stop blaming yourself. I’m sure you’ve spent long enough doing that, and I won’t watch you torture yourself. Don’t you think we’ve both been through enough torture?”
You could hardly believe what you were hearing. He was so strong. It shocked you, just how strong he was. He had been through so much, and yet he still carried himself like the man you knew. He still let other people lean on him even when it should have been him doing the leaning. It was remarkable, really.
“Since when did you get so wise?” You asked, and you had mustered a grin that made him smile too. “Where’s the stubborn man I once knew?”
Sirius shrugged. “He’s still in here somewhere. Just needs a little practice. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll meet him again soon.”
You scoffed, breathing out a laugh. “That’s alright. I kinda missed him.”
Sirius chuckled, and your smile widened. This felt easy—this was good. You were so worried that, after all this time, you wouldn’t know how to act around each other. You were so afraid that Sirius would walk around the flat like a ghost of the man who once called it home. But he didn’t. It only took him a few hours to start cracking jokes, brushing his fingers against yours. 
It wasn’t perfect—neither of you expected it to be. 
But it gave you hope. Sirius was going to be okay. You both were going to be okay. And you’d get there together.
A/N - Hi! Again, I'm so sorry for the wait. I honestly don’t love the outcome of this, but I figured I’d finish it anyways. I loved this request, and I just kept coming back to it and adding it. Hopefully this is what you were looking for, sorry if it’s shit. Thanks for the request :)
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i love you , its ruining my life!! // lorenzo berkshire x fem hufflepuff reader
playlist : fortnight - taylor swift
summary : lorenzo berkshire is so completely infatuated with a girl in hufflepuff , its ruining his life!!
y/n used , hufflepuff reader , ttpd was amazing, fluff
a/n : im the queen of slytherin boys x hufflepuff reader lets be honest ,also fortnight is a sad song but i did a different take on it bc fluff is just better !! LMAO
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its been three months since the very first time lorenzo berkshire saw you in class. he had never seen you before despite your presence being a constant since 1st year, and to say you hadnt gone unseen since was an understatement.
lorenzo berkshire has found himself in nothing but trouble since his little crush on you first blossomed , the very first time he saw you , that fateful day in potions - he had lost 20 points for slytherin in one lesson. and the reasons for his points deduction was simple , he just couldnt focus.
you pushed your hair behind your ear , he dropped his ink pot onto the floor , the loud smash interrupting snapes monotone first lesson back speech.
five points.
you laughed at something your male seat partner said , lorenzo clenched his fist so hard that he snapped his quill as the ink and snapped up feather made a mess of his desk.
five points.
you spoke to lorenzos best friend , theodore , making him misplace an ingredient into his cauldron that caused it to explode back into draco -his seat partner and friends- face.
ten points.
to say his friends and whole house were infruriated with him after that ,was an understatment - enzo had gotten them into points debt on the very first day. thats never even been done before!
but they were even angrier with him a few weeks ago.
it was the day of the highly anticipated , very first, gryffindor vs slytherin match of the year - and enzo bottled it because he was looking at you in the stands.
who could blame him! you were stood in the stands wearing a slytherin scarf with the number 13 on your cheek in green face paint , his number!!
the amount of quaffles he failed to catch and goals he missed completely because of his focus being elsewhere , became too much to count by the end of the match. that slytherin lost by the way.
but even when draco screamed in his face and theodore pushed him into the changing rooms , his mind couldnt leave your happy face as you watched him - and only him.
the most recent incident was when he sat in an exam , not writing a single word because he couldnt stop thinking about how you smiled at him and said hello to him earlier that day. he tried to play it off as hufflepuff friendliness but the red tint in your cheeks and beaming smile blocked out any thought of doubt - and charms knowledge.
that charms test was the first fail he has ever gotten at hogwarts.
all because of you and your pretty stupid smile!
as he stared down at his paper a week later with a horified expression and a sympathetic pansy rubbing his back , he decided enough was enough , he needed to get this off his chest.
so later that day he now found himself sat in the great hall , staring at where you usually sit , except the spot was empty.
his leg bounced under the table as he played with his hands and tie , loosening and re-loosening it every two seconds.
"lorenzo please stop." pansy begged with her head in her hands , trying to will the sound of lorenzos tapping foot to become white noise.
snapping out of it he stopped all movement and looked down with a somber sigh , maybe something happened to you? maybe youre avoiding him? maybe you hate him? maybe youre not hungry?
"enzo chill mate shes just walked in." theodore said looking at something - or someone - by the enterance to the great hall.
without sparing a seond enzo stormed over to you , grabbing your hand softly and stopping your walk to the hufflepuff table.
"please come with me," enzo said as more of a command as you nodded with concern and followed him out the hall and to an empty corridor.
he stopped you so you were stood against the wall and began to pace.
after many seconds of silence you began to question why you were there ,"lorenz-"
"i love you, and its ruining my life!!" he said loudly , stopping in his tracks staring at you , not with anger but instead despiration.
he now stepped forward as you stepped back and hit the wall , "ive lost points , matches , i failed my test for the first time ever!.....please. please say no and let me move on."
you stared up at him in complete shock , "lorenzo you dont know me-"
"i do. oh trust me i do , i know you prefer cats and like muggle classics as well as poetry. your favourite colour is yellow but you dont really tell anyone as to not be called a stereotypical hufflepuff. and...i know theres things i dont know but there is nothing else on this planet i want to learn more about, than you."
you began to beam your signature smile up at him , bringing your arms to wrap around his neck as he melted under your touch, "i failed charms too."
it was his turned to now be confused , "but charms is your favourite?-"
"there was this really handsome guy sat in front of me who i just couldnt stop looking at. he was distracting me."
lorenzo expression fell as his heart broke slowly , "w-who?..."
you looked at him teasingly , "seriously? you enzo!"
he let out a gasp of realisation as you pulled him down towards you for a kiss.
lets just say since that day you both got straight As! but thats not to say enzo doesnt still like to admire in lesson.
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finelinevogue · 3 months
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the eras
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summary - harry is the best boyfriend ever and not just because he has taylor swifts number
pairing - boyfriend!harry x reader
word count - ~1k
.’•*,.’>*,~<\*•,.-:’•.~_,*^;-.•*
“Hey babe.” You answered the phone whilst you wandered down the bakery aisle at Tescos.
Friday night was always grocery shopping night. The end of a week, beginning the weekend a fresh.
“Hey.” Harry answered.
“You okay? Need anything?”
“No, uh, you put cereal bars on the list right?”
“Yeah. I got ‘em. Where are you?”
“I’m just leaving Gem’s now. I’ll be home just before you I think.” He coughed out.
“Okay.” You said reaching for a loaf of whole grain bread, because Harry doesn’t care for white bread and you refuse to eat bread with seeds in.
“Need to ask y’something though.” He cleared his throat, which got you listening carefully.
“Right…”
You walked down the crockery aisle, because you cannot help yourself when it comes to an eclectic mug collection. You see a new, cool, mug? You buy it. There’s no other option.
As you pondered over whether any of the mugs took your fancy, Harry continued talking.
“So I spoke to someone today.”
“Uh… Congratulations?” You laughed out nervously, making a joke in a weird situation.
“You wanna know who?”
“Well, obviously.”
“Taylor.”
No second name was needed.
It was obvious who he meant.
You stopped reaching for a mug and instead stood still. You couldn’t move for a brief second, until you remembered you were in public and thought that being a statue might be a bit odd.
You placed the basket filled with groceries on the floor and pushed your hand back through your hair to ground you.
“Okay.”
“And she’s offered me - us - something.”
“Am I going to to get jealous? ‘Cause you know how much of a power couple you two made.” You giggled nervously.
“There’s too much to unpack there for a phone conversation, but no you won’t get jealous. Well, I mean, maybe you will I don’t really know what goes on in your head someti–”
“Harry!” You paused him.
“Taylor’s given us free Era’s tour tickets.”
You gasped a little bit.
Well, a lot. So much so that the people around you stopped to watch you, thinking something was wrong with the aisle or the mugs.
“Fuck off.” You cupped your hand over your mouth.
“Yeah, for London. Said we can come to all of them, or just one and whichever date.”
“No, babe, stop. You’re fucking lying.” Your eye’s watered.
Harry knew how much of a Swiftie you were. Like BIG time. You’d been a fan for a very long time. Through all the hate and all the drama, you had been there. Harry was even saved in your phone as ‘Taylor’s Ex’ as a period of time - as a healthy joke between the two of you.
You had a TikTok that was dedicated to being a fan, but it was mostly filled with you reacting to Taylor content or filming a series of videos where you rated Harry’s outfits - even though you’re with him when he’s getting dressed in a morning.
To not only get to go to the Eras tour, but to be invited by Taylor herself… Well. World ended.
“No, it’s real. Promise.” Harry laughed to himself, imagining you right now.
A few tears ran down your cheeks.
“Fuck. This is so embarrassing.” You laughed, wiping your nose and sniffling. “I’m literally crying on the mugs aisle.”
“Y/N, baby, we don’t need anymore mugs!” Harry laughed more.
“Shut up, yes we do. Wait. Is this real?”
“It is, my love. You’re going to the Eras tour.”
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narryamor · 6 months
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“I can see you staring, honey like he's just your understudy like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me” (Exile-Taylor Swift)
“So you were right, there's always two, the one who stays and the one who's leaving you. Hear me out, my apologies cause I'm not here for sympathy. Cause I don't wanna hear about him how he's holding you better at night and I don't wanna hear about him in these songs you continue to write. I was with you when you wrote that line. It was me that you had on your mind so I don't wanna hear about him” (Him-Harry Styles)
“Why'd you have to make me love you? I said, "I love you," you say nothing back.” (Say Don’t Go - Taylor Swift”)
“When you left, it was the end of my world, cause I never got to say that I love you, more than you think I do and I love you, now you don't want me to” (I Love You- Alex&Sierra)(Written by Mick Greenberg which is the pen name of Harry Styles)
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twobluejeans · 10 months
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HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!
charles leclerc x famous!reader
summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.
part 1: don’t start, part 2: wtf does ET know?
faceclaim: varies but for rn madison beer
ally’s radio 📻: heavily inspired by taylor swift and joe alwyn’s breakup bc im still in mourning. a lot of tswift references 🫶
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liked by italyrry, parisy/n, and 83,783 others
y/nflorals Y/N GETTING EMOTIONAL DURING THE 1 LAST NIGHT IN GLASGLOW! via loveonshow
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user4 okay but the fit fire
sweetnothingy/n my show my song ❤️‍🩹
user5 man she even looks pretty when she cries this is not fair bruh
back2decemberl/n this was a religious experience. i nearly died
loveontourhs FRANCE GOT ROBBED.
dontblamemey/n SHE REPLACED INVISIBLE STRING WITH THE 1?? ARE YOU SHITTING ME?
leclercy/n @dontblamemeleclerc i’m gonna kms
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liked by haileybieber, norizzland0, and 122,728 others
enews photos caught of ‘lover’ singer #y/nl/n and #charlesleclerc fighting outside a restaurant in london tonight. click link in bio for more info on the it couple’s nasty choice of words.
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arianagrande take this down immediately. please respect people’s privacy for once oml
chary/n @arianagrande ARIANA WHAT ARE U DOING HERE??
devil_leclerc this was not the family reunion i was expecting 💀
badbloody/n this feels so invasive and wrong on so many levels
trishapaytasnotreal oh this looks nasty, poor bby 🙁
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liked by lewishammi,midnightrainy/n, and 608 others
lordpercevalupdates i don’t wanna scare anyone even more but…
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user1 girl what
y/nmybeloved “i think i’ve seen this film before…”
charles.y/n @y/nmybeloved don’t even.
allmychampagney/n fell to my knees at walmart
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ally’s radio 📻: i swear this gets better 😭 pls im a star 🙏
planning on making this a multi-series so i if u want a tag, pls lmk!! 💋.
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adoralopez · 10 months
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haylor together in 2023 would be the campiest thing ever im so here for it
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Does anyone else find it kind of funny that Taylor wanted us to tie a song to Harry so badly that she references the Blue Dress boat meme which is arguably her most iconic one in the song?
It's so over the top and campy of her and I love it and it's also a bit weird because she's never explicitly mentioned a meme in a song before.
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mezsygfs · 8 days
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Ever hear a song someone else is playing and just think "this is so marauders coded" BUT YOU CAN'T SAY ANYTHING CAUSE HOW ON EARTH ARE YOU GONNA EXPLAIN YOU HAVE CREATED YOUR OWN LITTLE WORLD BASED OFF THE HARRY POTTER FRANCHISE ABOUT HIS DAD AND 3 BEST FRIENDS.
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hapinesbuterfiy · 2 months
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. ୨🪩୧ ₊˚ 🍒 ʚ ♡ ˚ 🎀 +
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lets talk about rafe x fangirl!reader...
you love being a fangirl and all of the late release nights, hundreds of dollars spent in merch and concert tickets, and the constant hours of waiting in ticketmaster queues that came with it. having an insanely rich and obsessive boyfriend who would spend millions to make you happy had it's perks!
it took rafe a while to get used to your antics, never did he ever think he would be waking up at 2am to queue for a concert, but who else would be accompanying his girl? certainly not anyone else, he wouldn't have it. at first, he attempted to persuade you to buy actual seats instead of pit tickets with the "proactive person" approach. "are you fuckin' crazy? you're meanin' to tell me that you would rather sleep on the filthy fuckin' streets outside the venue waiting for hours when i could just buy you an entire box of seats? you're fuckin' insane." he stomps around your bedroom while standing above you, unable to fathom the lengths that you're willing to go to for a good view at a show. "rafe it's not the same you just don't get it! i need to be at the barricade there is literally no point in going if lana del rey can't watch me sob in front of her while singing pretty when you cry." he rolls his eyes at your remark, shaking his head in disbelief while sucking in his bottom lip. "yea—yea fuckin' barricade my ass, you shithead. lucky i wouldn't fuckin' make you go alone." you perk up, kissing his cheek in excitement. "thank you!" you've got him wrapped around your pretty little finger.
you're passionate, to say the least! why would you spent countless nights sobbing to grainy eras tour live streams after taylor swift plays your favorite songs without you there alone when you could be doing it with rafe by your side? he thinks you're insane for crying over a song, giving you his best fake sympathy act each time it happens, which is practically every time she has a concert because her entire discography is yours. you try your best to make out words through your sniffles and sobs, "i hate taylor swift so much. why would she bring gracie abrams out to play i miss you i'm sorry without me there?" you continue to choke on your sobs and manage to pull yourself even close into his chest. "she's so mean i hate her rafe." he tries his best to console you but can't help but laugh at your disheveled state and the snot coming out of your nose over a song, he is rafe, after all. "baby— i don't know what to tell you. maybe she'll like play it again when you see her, i don't fuckin' know." he wipes your face with his thumbs, as he continues to laugh at you reaching out for his phone to take a video of you so he can make fun of you later for it.
you practically control the aux cord in his jeep, as his girlfriend it's basically your job to make sure he has good music taste! plus the same future songs that he plays over and over again are starting to become unbearable. "so this is thank u, next, it's literally ariana's best single like i swear i would not be the same person without this song it's so me core." he parts his lips in frustration, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "the fuck do you mean that's so me core? are you tryin' to say somethin' here?" he tries to pretend that he isn't enjoying it but you can hear him mumble "thank u, next m' im so fuckin' grateful for my ex." your eyes light up as you land a playful slap to his shoulder "see i told you it was a good song, you're too stubborn!" he completely disregards you, turning the volume up even higher so that you stop chirping in his ear.
you're a handful and a tad bit loud, but rafe secretly enjoys putting with your shit. you're his princess and if that meant he had to book an entire trip to italy just so you could go see harry styles for the last show on love on tour just to make you happy, he would be doing so!
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