#flatmate!harry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

agreeewrites · 3 months ago

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Freefall | D.M. & H.P

feat Draco Malfoy x roommate!reader x Harry Potter

SUMMARY: Secrets can only stay buried for so long in a cramped London flat. When the truth finally comes out, your relationship with your flatmates, Harry and Draco, will never be the same.

CW: MDNI 18+, college roommates!au, smut, mfm, slight angst, pining!drarry, going from friends/roommates to friends with benefits, dom!draco and switch!harry

AN: much more to come! I wouldn't call this a series, more like a collection of fics/drabbles/headcanons. my asks are open if there's anything you'd like to see!

masterlist

“Here, taste this,” Harry said, approaching the kitchen island where you were combing through your coursework, spoon covered in sauce held aloft.

You opened your mouth, not looking up from the passage on the Demiguise.

Harry chuckled, feeding you the bit of sauce. You smacked your lips, tasting the marinara Harry's made one hundred times. “Needs a bit more garlic,” you said. “But otherwise perfect.”

“You always say that,” Harry teased, rolling his eyes as he turned back to his sauce. There was something so warm about Harry, so safe, with his fluffy black hair and broad shoulders, his easy smile and quick wit.

“It's always true,” you argued, taking a sip of your wine to hide your smile.

Music from one of his muggle records filled the air, something acoustic and folksy that added to the peaceful vibe of the flat, carefully curated by yourself and your other roommate, Draco. The two of them needed a sanctuary after every they endured, and your shared flat became exactly that. A safe harbor from the chaotic world.

“Need a refill?” Harry asked, glancing at your almost empty glass, always trying to take be helpful.

“Trying to get me drunk, Potter?”

“Are we drinking?” Draco strode out from his room, his platinum hair still damp from the shower, dressed in a Slytherin crew neck and sweatpants. Your mouth went a little dry at the sight of him, the clean smell lingering on his skin, and you swallowed the rest of your wine.

“Someone is,” Harry chuckled, flashing you a cheeky smile.

Draco entered the kitchen, moving around Harry to grab a wine glass from a tall cabinet, his shirt riding up a bit to reveal the smooth skin of his lower abdomen.

“Ow! Fucker,” Harry hissed, shaking out his hand. “Damn stove.”

Draco snickered, pouring himself a generous glass of wine and topping up yours. “Distracted, Potter?” he teased, and a a flush crawled up Harry’s neck.

“Leave him alone,” you chastised, beckoning the spectacled boy towards you with a crooked finger. “Or else he’ll stop cooking for us.”

“Maybe for Malfoy,” Harry grumbled, placing his hand in your outstretched palm.

“Well, can’t have that. I’d starve to death.” Draco smirked, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of wine.

“Episkey,” you cast, healing the burn on Harry’s finger with a swipe of your thumb. “There we go,” you hummed, grinning at him.

“T-thanks,” he said, adjusting his glasses.

“How convenient, having our own pretty nurse at home,” Draco said, winking at you when you flipped him off.

Harry playfully checked Draco’s shoulder when he returned to the kitchen, and Draco muttered something in Harry’s ear, making him roll his eyes with a coy half-smile. They dove into conversation about their shared Auror classes, drastically different than your own courses for your Magical Creatures degree.

You turned back to your work, trying to tune them out and ignoring the increasingly familiar feeling of otherness that trickled in. Harry and Draco had a past that was inextricably entwined, two sides of the same coin, and their bond often left you feeling like a third-wheel in your own flat. Usually it didn't bother you, but the feelings had grown stronger and stronger over the last few weeks, creeping into almost every interaction with them and sucking the joy out of it. Tonight, it sat like a stone in your stomach.

You missed them, even though they were only a few feet away from you and you occupied the same 900 square foot space.

After a few minutes, Draco sidled up next you, leaning over your shoulder to read your notes. “Still studying, love?” He asked, close enough that his breath ghosted over your ear.

You suppressed a shiver. Draco loved nothing more than to get a rise out of you and Harry, and you weren’t in the mood to stroke his ego.

“Yes, I am,” you replied, voice more clipped than you intended, and you caught him and Harry share a look over you head, fueling your irritation.

Draco didn’t push, retreating back to his place in the kitchen. He and Harry continued to mutter to one another and exchange meaningful looks while Harry finished up dinner, acting as if you weren’t there at all.

Sometimes, if felt like they could read each other's minds, shared a connection deeper than words. Like two great trees with tangled roots, communicating in a language only the two of them understood.

Just when you were about to gather your things and hole up in your room for the night to wallow in self-pity, Harry set a plate under your nose, piled high with pasta.

“Added extra garlic for you,” he murmured, giving you a soft smile, and some of your irritation unwound.

“Thanks,” you said, a bit sheepish about your attitude.

“Course, can’t let you go hungry,” he teased, turning back to make his own plate.

Your heart gave a weak trill, but you quickly squashed it down. You were being silly, you all were just friends, roommates. They didn’t owe you anything, least of all a place in their hard-earned inner circle.

Their lives were full, and there wasn’t room for you.

After dinner, you retreated to your room to shower, trying to pull yourself together. They had enough going on in their lives; the last thing they needed was your drama on top of everything else.

But no matter what you told yourself, the feeling lingered, sour on your stomach and bitter on your tongue.

Hair towel dried and dressed in a PJ set, you ventured back out into the living room. It was empty, but the large window leading to the fire escape was cracked open, low, masculine voices floating on the air.

You debated making yourself a cup of tea and leaving them to it, but your curiosity won out. You wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and lifted the window, stepping out onto the small balcony.

Harry was leaned against the railing, hands stuffed in his hoodie, and Draco was perched on the iron steps leading to the next floor, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

To your surprise, the air was thick with tension, heavy like an incoming storm. Draco's shoulders were up to his ears, the smoke from his cigarette hanging like smog in the London streetlights.

Was it because of you?

Harry moved to help you down, his hand steady and strong in yours, and closed the window behind you. “It's cold out here,” he cautioned, noting your still damp hair. “Is that blanket warm enough?”

You nodded, giving him a small smile of thanks. “Am I, uh, interrupting?” You asked, looking up at Draco. He looked so handsome in the low light, shadows sharpening his jaw, the cherry of the cigarette making his light eyes glow.

He shook his head, taking another drag.

“Course not.” Harry rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, leaning against the railing once again. He wasn't nearly as good of a liar as Draco.

“What were you talking about?” You asked, trying to sound casual.

“Just school stuff—”

“Nothing—”

They spoke at the same time, interrupting each other, then fell quiet again.

“Uh-huh,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “Don't stop on my account,” you said, sitting on the window sill and pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

But, as you suspected, they stayed mum, exchanging a glance you couldn't decipher.

You wish it didn't, but it made you feel so alone, so…jealous. You craved their closeness more than anything.

“If you tell me what's going on, maybe I could help,” you offered.

Harry’s eyes softened. “Everything's okay. Please don't worry about us.”

“Of course I'm going to worry about you,” you countered, the edge of your voice betraying the hurt feelings you were trying to shove down.

Harry frowned, concern drawing his dark brows together. “I know, but…”

Draco stubbed his cigarette on the steps. “Come here,” he said, extending a hand to you.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

Uncertainty made your heart beat quicken, but you placed your fingers in Draco’s palm. He drew you up and between his knees on the steps, guiding your hand to wrap around his middle. The warmth of his body overruled your hesitation, and you leaned into his chest, head resting on his shoulder.

He smelled like smoke and his amber body wash, and something new fluttered to life in your belly.

“Potter’s right,” Draco murmured, his voice resonant in his chest. “You shouldn't worry about us.”

You didn't reply, unable to articulate why ‘us’ bothered you so much. Just another reminder that there was them, and then there was you.

You glanced up at Draco, finding his eyes not trained on you, but on Harry, molten like fired glass, and your hurt deepened. You tried to pull away, but Draco locked an arm around your shoulders, his gaze flicking down to yours.

You turned away, averting your eyes.

“Please don't be upset,” Harry said, a twinge of worry in his voice. “We just don't want you too—”

“We're trying to protect you,” Draco said.

You pulled back, and Draco let you, though he didn't let you step out from between his long legs. “Protect me from what? Memories?” You asked, looking to Harry.

“Memories are powerful,” he said. “They're a burden. We’re a burden, and we don't want to put that on you.”

You stared at him. “A burden?” You hissed, pulling away from Draco fully to face Harry. “How could you think that?”

Harry couldn't look at you, his eyes on the ground. “We said we would never make your life harder, pile our shit onto your shoulders after you were kind enough to open your home,” he muttered. “You don't deserve that.”

“That’s what friends do,” you said, throat thick with frustrated tears. “I thought we were friends.”

Harry's head snapped up, pain evident in his eyes. “We are friends,” he insisted, pushing off the railing to approach you. “That's why we—”

“We,” you scoffed. “You don't get it, Harry.” You turned away from him, only to bump directly into Draco's chest, his expression hard.

“You really want to know what we were talking about?” He asked, jaw feathering with tension.

“That's not—”

“It is, though. Isn't it? You're feeling left out.”

You flushed, turning away from his too-perceptive gaze, but he caught your chin with his hand, forcing you look up at him.

“Malfoy,” Harry warned.

“No, if she wants the truth, she'll have it.” Draco shot Harry a look, and the other boy made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. Draco looked back at you, a reckless sort of intensity in his eyes. “Potter here was telling me about how he asked you to taste the sauce just so he could feed it to you. It's why he made it in the first place.”

“Draco,” Harry snapped, and your eyes widened in shock.

“And then I told him that I liked your new body wash—coconut or something? And that I wondered what it tasted like on your skin.” He backed you against the brick wall, his body warm and solid against yours. Your heart was beating so loud, you almost couldn't hear him. “That the reason I came out here was because the fucking smell of you, hot and wet and naked in the shower, was driving me mad, and I was this close to charging into that bathroom and eating you for dessert.”

You were stunned silent, staring up at him in complete and utter disbelief. He wanted you? They both wanted you?

“Draco, I—”

“You wanted to know the big fucking secret, darling. That's it. We're both completely and utterly obsessed with you, sick with it.” His breath was hot against your cheek, the rumble of his voice swirling around the shell of your ear and making you shiver, that flutter you felt earlier building to a twister of want, the clarity sudden and striking.

You were jealous and hurting because you wanted them.

“We haven’t said anything because—because we don't want to ruin the one friendship we have that isn't rooted in our past,” Harry added, wringing his hands together. “We don't want to lose you, or make you uncomfortable.”

Draco moved to step back, uncertainty creeping into his expression, and a bolt of fear pierced your heart. No, no, no. You grabbed him without thinking, letting your blanket fall to the ground

“You couldn't lose me,” you admitted. “I want you both too.”

“You want us too?” Draco asked, skeptical eyes searching your face.

“Please,” you whispered.

He immediately folded, crushing you back against the wall, and crashed his mouth to your in a rough, desperate kiss. He groaned low in his throat, the sound turning your core to liquid, and drove his tongue into your mouth, swiftly taking control of the kiss. You were putty in his hands, flayed open for him to claim, to ravage with tongue and teeth. It felt like you were flying. Like he'd picked you up and dropped you over the edge of the roof. Plummeting. Freefall.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he rasped, kissing down your jaw and lapping at the place where your pulse surged under your skin. In a quick movement, Draco spun your around, his back to the wall with your back pressed to his front, his arms bracketed around your middle.

Harry was standing there, eyes wide and cheeks pink, his grip tight on the railing behind him.

“Harry,” you whined, voice pitching higher when Draco's mouth found the sweet spot under your ear.

“I—”

“Bloody hell, Potter. Fucking kiss her.” Draco ordered, and Harry surged forward like he was waiting for permission. His hands reached up to cradle your face as his lips connected with yours. Harry's kiss was softer, more timid than Draco's. A question, rather than a command.

Your hands fisted in his hoodie, drawing him closer as you licked along the seam of his lips, tasting wine and his honey lip balm as he parted for you, gliding his tongue along yours.

“Fucking finally,” Draco purred, his hand sliding under your shirt to splay across your stomach, pressing you tighter against him. “How's she taste, Potter?” He asked, his other hand coming up to rest against your throat.

“Like heaven,” Harry murmured, breath hitching when you nipped at his lower lip. He pressed himself harder against you, squishing you between their bodies, and you gasped, hands flying up to tangle in Harry’s unruly hair.

Harry grew a bit bolder, licking into your mouth with hungry strokes. Your hips canted forward, your pussy practically begging for attention, and you felt Harry's erection press against your hip, throbbing beneath his pajama pants.

“What a good girl,” Draco cooed, his hand sneaking higher to cup your breast, his thumb grazing your taught nipple. You moaned into Harry's mouth, arching your spine to press your chest into Draco's palm. “Being so sweet for us.” Draco tightened his hand around your throat, grinding his erection into your ass.

Harry's hands wandered south, pawing at your curves over your pajamas until he gripped your ass, rocking your more intentionally against him and Draco.

Draco hissed through his teeth when Harry's hand grazed his cock. You thought maybe it was an accident until you felt Harry smile, the slightest quirk of his mouth, as he brushed Draco's cock again.

“Inside, now,” Draco rumbled, shifting off the wall and send you and Harry stumbling forward.

Harry steadied you, a hand on your hip. “Is that what you want?” He asked, searching your face.

“Yes.” You nodded, tugging him in by the hoodie strings for a quick peck. “I want you,” you murmured against his lips, and he grinned.

“Come on, then,” Draco called, already inside, a hand extended to you. You took it and he hauled you inside, placing a hand over the bottom of the open window so you didn't hit your head in your haste. Harry clamored in right behind you, shutting and locking the window while Draco guided you to sit down on the couch, his lips on yours again.

Harry sat on the other side of you, shirking his hoodie. Draco leaned you back to drape across Harry's thighs, pushing up your shirt to kiss across your hips. Harry tugged the shirt over your head, exposing your chest to them.

“So pretty, sweetheart,” Harry murmured, his fingertips grazing over your ribcage, the other draped over the back of the couch. You felt like you were burning, desire spreading under your skin like a brush fire.

“Lift your hips for me, love,” Draco said, looking up at your through blond lashes. You obeyed, leaning more of your weight onto Harry, and Draco hooked his fingers into your waist band, sliding down your pants and panties in one go.

It struck you how normal this all felt. How comfortable and right.

Draco spread your legs, fingertips dimpling into your tender skin. His lips connected with your inner thigh, feather light and teasing as he trailed closer towards your dripping pussy.

Harry's hand cupped your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples lightly, just enough pressure to make you squirm, head falling back onto the couch. His eyes bounced around your body, like he couldn't decide where to focus his attention.

“Merlin, please,” you whined when Draco kissed just north of your clit, smirking against your skin.

“Please what, baby?” Draco asked, resting his cheek on your thigh.

“Please touch me.” You tangled your fingers into Draco's hair, nudging him closer to your core. “Please.”

Harry groaned above you, his cock kicking against your shoulder. But he continued his leisurely ministrations, following Draco's lead. Their easy, instinctual dynamic made your head a little fuzzy, your pussy ache.

Draco hummed, gliding his thumb over your slit, collecting the honey waiting for him. You moaned, hips chasing Draco's touch, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Holding your gaze, he swiped his tongue over his thumb, tasting you. You loosed an aggravated huff, squirming between them.

Harry shushed you, petting your head like you were an unruly kitten. “Stop torturing her, D,” Harry said, glaring down at the blond.

Draco tsked. “But don't you want a taste?” He asked, dragging two fingers through you before lifting them to Harry's mouth.

Harry’s eyes widened, going a bit glassy, and he nodded. Draco smirked triumphantly and fed his fingers between the other boys lips. Harry moaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he sucked your slick off Draco's long fingers, his tongue twining around his knuckles.

You whimpered, thighs clenching around Draco.

“Can you blame me for wanting to savor this?” Draco murmured, slipping his fingers from Harry’s mouth and bringing them back between your legs. He eased his middle finger inside of you, pumping slowly and watching your face crumble in pleasure, a broken moans spilling from your lips.

Harry placed a hand behind your head, lifting your face to his for an eager kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, heady and sweet, and you tangled your fingers into his hair, drawing him closer, kissing him harder.

Draco added another finger, scissoring you open and massaging your gummy walls with precision. His lips found your clit, nursing gently, and pleasure bloomed through you, a burgeoning glow in your belly. You gasped into Harry's mouth when he tweaked your nipples again, tugging his hair hard enough to make him whimper.

Draco kissed up your body, his fingers still fucking into you, and dragged his tongue along your cheek, a silent question. You turned your head to kiss him, his nose and chin covered in your slick. Harry nosed closer, licking at the mess along Draco's chin, and he turned, catching Harry's lips in a sloppy, almost competitive dueling of tongues. Harry groaned when you licked and kissed down his neck, Draco's fingers still coaxing soft moans from your lips.

You grabbed at the hem of Draco's shirt, struggling to pull it off in the tangle of limbs, and Draco chuckled, sitting back on his heels. He withdrew his fingers, sucking them clean before standing up to undress himself.

Harry shifted behind you, tossing his t-shirt aside. You sat up, shifting to straddle him, the only thing separating you the thin fabric of his pajama pants. You'd seen Harry shirtless countless times, his tanned skin drawn tight over lean muscles from years of Quidditch and Auror training, but having him spread out beneath you, yours to enjoy, made your cunt quiver with anticipation, your mouth fill with saliva.

Harry flushed under your gaze, averting his eyes from your openly appreciative expression. You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek, in a trail towards his ear.

“You're gorgeous, Harry,” you murmured, rolling your hips over the thick bulge between his legs. He groaned, hands moving from your thighs to grip your hips.

“Isn't he?” Draco hummed, taking a swallow of wine while he watched the two of you, an almost predatory glint in his eye. “Was always jealous that I never filled out like that.” He chuckled.

“Oh, sod off,” Harry said, breathless as you slowly rocked against him. “You were always the hot one.”

“Never said I wasn't,” Draco smirked, setting the wine glass down.

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but you silenced him with a kiss, drawing his attention back to you.

His hips bucked up into you, his cock so hard it had to be painful. Desperate to be sheathed inside you. You were ravenous for him too, plagued by the absence left by Draco's fingers. The grinding grew more intense as your need mounted, rough and sloppy in a way that had the two of you whining into the kiss, waiting for…something.

Draco leaned on the back of the couch behind Harry, smoothing your hair from your face. “You look unbelievable right now, darling,” he murmured. “So perfect for us. Right, Potter?”

Harry nodded, his face buried into the crook of your neck, calloused hands like a vice on your hips.

“You want to fuck her, Harry?” Draco combed his fingers through Harry's dark waves, tugging his head back against the couch.

“Merlin, yes. Want to fuck you so bad, love,” he panted up at you, glasses fogging from the heat of his body.

“Yes, please, Harry. Need you,” you moaned, your swollen clit dragging against his cock in a way that made you see stars.

“Go on, then. What are you waiting for?” Draco purred, knowing damn well you were waiting for his permission, even if you didn't quite know why.

Both you and Harry were too far gone to respond to his teasing. Harry wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting you up so he could free himself from his bottoms. You couldn't see what he was packing from your position, but when the head nudged your entrance, it felt like a fist prodding at you.

“Holy fuck, Harry—” you gasped, grabbing onto Draco when the head breeched your pussy, Harry grunting beneath you at the tight fit.

“Seven bloody saints, baby. S'fucking tight,” he groaned, his face buried in your tits.

“Relax, love,” Draco soothed, caressing your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “You can take it.”

“Fuck, fuck—ngh, it's too big,” you cried, even as your pussy stretched around Harry’s length, accepting him inch by torturous inch.

“It’s alright, darling. You're doing so well already.” Draco placed a tender kiss to your forehead. “Isn't she, Potter?”

“M'trying to be careful, baby but f-fuck,” Harry grated, his hips stuttering up, a flicker of pain making you whimper. “Sorry, sorry. You just feel so good.” Harry kissed up your sternum, his free hand coming up to angle your head down towards him. “Just a little more,” he murmured, your forehead resting on his. His chest rose and fell in a deep breath, and you mirrored him, breathing in tandem through the final stretch.

Your full weight settled onto his hips, his cock buried inside of you, and you both moaned as the pain morphed into pleasure, lips connecting an airy, breathless kiss.

You flexed your thighs, lifting up on Harry's cock before rolling back down, gasping into Harry's mouth at the delicious, full feeling.

“Fuck, just like that,” Harry moaned, using his grip on your hips to help you slide up and down his cock. “Merlin, you're so fucking sexy.”

Your head tipped back on your shoulders, moans spilling freely as Harry started bucking up into you, cockhead kissing your cervix with every powerful thrust and making your eyes cross. You could feel him everywhere, ecstasy humming along your nerves and sweetening your blood, the sound of your sopping pussy squelching around him wonderfully lewd.

Lost in Harry, you hadn't noticed Draco move until you heard him moan, the sound scraping through his teeth. You glanced over, seeing him stretched out in his chair, his fist wrapped around his cock and stroking slowly, watching you and Harry through heavy-lidded eyes.

It wasn't as thick as Harry’s, but long and slightly curved, the head and angry pink and shiny with precum. Draco spit onto it, lubricating himself, and your whole body reacted to the sight, clenching hard around Harry as a fresh gush of arousal surged through you.

Harry cried out, his rhythm faltering for a moment, and Draco smirked, knowing what affect he had on you.

“Shit, m’not gonna last much longer with you squeezin’ me like that—f-fucking hell,” his voice fractured into another moan when you clenched around him again, watching Draco synchronize his hand to Harry's thrusts, keeping pace with the two of you.

Fuck, it was so hot being caught between the two of them. You were the clearly at the center of their desires, but you could tell they craved one another too, got some satisfaction out of sharing you. Whether it was for pleasure, or some twisted game between old rivals, you couldn't quite tell.

You were teetering on the edge of release, Harry's hunger coupled with Draco's restraint ratcheting you higher and higher.

“Come for me, love.” Harry grabbed you by the hair, rougher than he had been, and forced you to look at him while he pounded up into you. His eyes were lust-blown and wild, cheeks flushed and brow sweaty. “Need to make you come first. C’mon, sweetheart, please—yes, baby, just like that—fuck, fuck!”

The coil in your stomach snapped at the same moment Harry's cock kicked against your walls, the first jet of release splattering against your cervix.

“Fuck, Harry!” You cried as the orgasm tore through you, bright and blissful. You clung to him, your spasming pussy making you both gasp and whine in pleasure as he continued working you over his cock. Milking himself with your limp body until the ecstasy finally dissipated.

You both collapsed back onto the couch, chests heaving and sticky with sweat. Harry drew you in for a kiss, his lips plush and tender, and you melted into his embrace, limbs heavy and thoughts sluggish.

You felt cool fingers run down your spine, making you twitch and whimper with sensitivity.

“Not done yet, are you, sweet girl?” Draco asked, urging you to turn over onto your back with a hand on your hip.

You obliged, settling with your back pressed against Harry's chest, legs falling open as Draco kneeled onto the couch. He loomed like hunter over a fresh catch, eyes shaded with desire, cock standing proud between his legs.

His fingers glided between your slit, collecting yours and Harry's combined released and pushing it back inside of you, pumping his fingers slowly into your messy entrance.

You mewled, head falling back onto Harry's shoulder as pleasure warred with overstimulation, the muscles in your legs trembling as your hips rocked into his palm.

“Shit, Draco,” Harry said, breathless as he watched Draco toy with you. “So fucking hot.”

Draco smiled, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to his cock, smearing the mix of fluids over his shaft. “I'll corrupt you yet, Potter,” he teased, then looked down at you, eyes burning. “Come here, darling.”

You instantly sat up and leaned towards him, drawn like a magnet. Helpless to disobey. His fingers carded through your hair and fisting at the base of your scalp.

“Show me that pretty little tongue,” he ordered, grabbing the base of his cock and causing it swell even larger.

Your mouth fell open, tongue lolling out, and you heard Harry curse behind you, getting a clear view from the mirror against the wall.

“Such a good slut for us, hm?” Draco traced the edge of your lips with his cockhead, smearing release across your mouth, taunting you. “One cock isn't enough for you?”

You shook your head, batting your lashes up at him, wanting to give them both a show. To please them.

“Salazar’s sakes, love. Better stop looking at me like that, or I just might run out of patience,” Draco warned, tapping your tongue with his cock.

“I think she might like that,” Harry chuckled, kissing along the curve of your shoulder.

“I think you might be right, Potter.” Draco dragged you forward, driving halfway into your mouth.

You fastened your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks while you lapped at his velveteen skin. You could taste yourself, and what must be a mix of the two of them, and your eyes rolled back into your head, a pulse of arousal making your pussy clench and drip.

Draco cursed under his breath, moving you up and down his length by your hair, watching with rapt attention as you drooled and slurped around him, going completely brainless on his cock.

“Fuck, that feels so good. If your cunt feels half as good as your mouth—shit,” Draco moaned, holding you still so he could thrust into your throat, just hard enough to make tears spring in your eyes.

“Better, I’d wager,” Harry said, reaching around to grope your tits, making you moan around Draco's cock. “Wraps around ‘ya like a glove.”

Draco grunted, suddenly pulling you off of him. He crashed his mouth to yours with nearly as much fervor as the first kiss on the balcony, all tongue and teeth . He eased you back onto Harry's chest, using his other hand to line himself up with your center.

In one thrust, he bottomed out inside you, Harry's efforts ensuring your were pliable and ready.

“Fuuuuck,” Draco moaned, his head falling onto Harry's shoulder. “So fucking ready for me, baby. Weren't you?”

You nodded, crying out when he withdrew then slammed back into you, nails raking down his back at the intensity.

“That's it—good girl, such a good little slut f’me.” He wasted no time setting a brutal pace, fucking you hard into Harry while you screamed beneath him, lost in the dizzying, brutal pleasure. Draco fucked you out of your mind while Harry kept your body rooted in place. Murmuring sweet praise in your ear, coddling you like an angel, while Draco fucked you like you were anything but.

Harry's hand slid down between your legs, quick fingers working your puffy clit. “Doing so well, lovey. He's not being too rough, is he?”

You shook your head, nails digging into Harry's veiny forearm. “N-no—feels good.”

“Merlin, this cunt is a dream,” Draco growled against your ear, nipping at your skin when you fluttered around him, his words drawing a visceral reaction from your body. “Ours, now, yeah? Potter and I’s pretty cunt?”

“Yes, yes! Fuck, Draco—m’gonna come.” You clung desperately to them, trying to find purchase in the raging storm of pleasure, but it was quickly sweeping you away, dragging you under.

“That's it, give it to me—fuck!” Draco cried out, bottoming out inside of you when his release slammed into him, the heavy kick of his cock sending you over the edge. You came hard, feeling yourself bear down on him to an almost painful degree as you entire body locked up, vision swimming from the tears pooling on your eyes.

Harry shushed you, pressing kisses into your hair. “You can take it,” he murmured. “We've got you.”

“Fucking hell, love,” Draco panted, rocking his hips into you as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the weight of their bodies keeping you from squirming away when overstimulation kicked in.

“Draco—fuck, ah, too much,” you whimpered.

“Sorry, baby,” he cooed, catching your lips in an apologetic kiss. “Could stay wrapped in your forever,” he murmured against your lips, and you felt your heart flip, heat spreading in your cheeks. Draco stole a final thrust before slumping back onto the other end of the couch, chest heaving, softening cock glistening with your combined release.

If you weren't wrung out like a sponge, you'd clean him up with your tongue.

Harry slipped out from behind you, grabbing his wand from the table to magically clean the three of you up and put his pants back on. “Are you alright, love?” He asked, draping a blanket over your shoulders and sitting beside you, suddenly sheepish again.

“I'm exhausted,” you replied with a breathy chuckle. “Good exhausted.” You amended when concern flickered across his face. “Are you okay?”

“I'm good.” He glanced over at Draco, still prone with his eyes closed. “I think you may have killed him.”

Draco lifted an arm, flipping Harry off, and you giggled. He sat up, not making any move to cover himself. “We should set some ground rules.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Would it kill you to relax for a second?”

“It's for her benefit,” Draco bit. “This could get…messy.”

You nodded in agreement, a tendril of worry curling around your spine. Draco was notorious for one night stands, was that all this was?

“It stays between us, firstly,” Draco said, and you and Harry nodded in agreement. “Potter and I living together kept the Daily Prophet open for weeks. A sex scandal is the last thing we need.”

“It's a flat thing, nothing else,” you said, getting ahead of what you were sure was coming. “Roommates that fuck.” It was safer that way, less complicated.

“Flatmates with benefits,” Harry gave a wry chuckle, though it didn't meet his eyes.

“Group only, or…?” You glanced at Draco, and he looked back at Harry.

Harry shrugged. “I'm okay with splitting off now and then.”

Draco's jaw feathered, but he didn't argue.

Shit, this really could get messy. But you were too relieved to care. Now that you'd had a taste of them, there was no way you could turn back. And it seemed the men were in agreement, even if the details were a bit murky.

“So, we have a deal?” You asked.

“Deal,” they said in unison, and you shook on it, a clumsy arrangement of three hands.

Flatmates with benefits, how hard could that be?

638 notes · View notes

madschiavelique · 5 months ago

Text

﹒ ✦ 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐍𝐊 : 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 — 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

✦﹒ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : you've been avoiding viktor, but as your next homework session comes around, he cannot help but be curious. oh and more tyler

✦﹒ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : crude language (not much okay), reader is having thoughtsss

✦﹒ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 5,6k

✦﹒ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : FIRST OF ALL i was sick and on my periods writing this okay so this is much more of a transitionary chapter than anything for the shitstorm to come, SECOND OF ALL i KNOW it's another 5 of wands chapter i'm sorry i forgot that i had already used this card before THUS i will probably change the card in chapter 4 because i couldn't see any other card working for this one. but i still hope you all will like it <3 (i don't know how many times i wrote "sighed" in this chapter so BEAR WITH ME)

✦﹒ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐘 : the lovely @yaffles-world

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓．．𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 ．．𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓．．𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐎-𝐅𝐈

✦﹒ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch

Friday arrived for another study session between you and Viktor. The week had flown by, with one particularity: your stubborn avoidance of Viktor, and his stubborn search for you.

During classes, you always managed to find a seat as far away from his as possible. You avoided him in the corridors, ignored him when you crossed his path, and when you were in the library and you noticed him, you packed up your things as quickly as possible to leave.

Since the power cut, you'd been even more keen to avoid Viktor. Although you'd done it before, you'd simply decided you didn't want to interact with him. The last few weeks had been far too full of his presence, and you needed to get away from him both physically and mentally.

The trip to the museum, the lunch with him and Jayce, the hour of detention... Your days were far more filled with him than you would have preferred.

It had been a sudden, almost instinctive choice to get as far away from him as possible.

There was something in the air the evening of the blackout, and even today. A kind of disturbing truth was taking up more and more space in your mind: Viktor wanted to be your friend.

In your eyes, there was always a huge worry about making friends. Your circle was small, and most of your friendships were involuntary, and you were fine with it. You didn't need many friends, you simply kept the ones you trusted. But were you ready to place your trust in Viktor?

Alas, Friday was here, and Viktor was inevitable.

You had arrived a little early at the library, dropping off your things and anticipated for your study by picking up the tomes you would need during this session. The library was already busier than it had been the previous week, with your class mimicking you and Viktor as they set to work on their history topic to avoid working on it at the last minute.

You despised the very idea of doing this assignment, as it brought you too close to your years living in Zaun, to more nightmares every night, to more Viktor. You wanted to get rid of this homework, and you knew full well that to do that you'd have to actually deal with it.

But while he was away, you took the opportunity to take out a sheet of paper and dipped the tip of your quill in one of the pretty inks Eris had given you. You wanted to write to her. You hadn't received any correspondence from her for some time now, and you suspected that she too had other things to worry that were more important than taking the time to sit down and write a letter.

Dear Eris, you began.

The weeks are endless here, and I almost miss the times when the only thing we had to do all day was figure out what to do to avoid dying of boredom till night came. I've welcomed my new flatmate, Sky Young. She's nice - I could have had worse, I doubt I could have had better. Speaking of better…

You raised your feather above the paper for a moment, hesitating over the next part of your sentence. Viktor would be inevitable in this very letter, and the idea frustrated you. No matter what happened, his name was on your mind, always at the corner of your lips, ready to rub against your teeth and sound out like a finger pressing on a trigger before shooting.

Were you going to tell her about your concerns? Were you going to feign disinterest, pretend it was just some guy Jayce had introduced you to?

I'm getting a bit more used to tarot. You write as your sign of progress. This morning I drew the five of wands. From what I gather though, it doesn't look very positive. I should expect it, five guys hitting each other with sticks seems an unlikely interpretation of a general hug.

According to the little booklet, the five of sticks represented: Incendiary events. Protests. Angry people. Drama. Exciting conflicts.

You'd raised your eyebrows as your eyes roamed the rest of the descriptions: New ideas are born of passionate debate. Energy is scattered but if forces work together, powerful results occur. There's a need for unity. You're bothered by people who don't act as you'd hoped. Free yourself by surrendering to the present moment.

Well, that looks promising, you thought. The card was obviously pushing you towards Viktor, and that was bothering you.

You were clinging to what you had, to the past, to the only thing you knew: survival. Viktor was turning your finely constructed ecosystem upside down, as if he were treading on a sandcastle you'd spent hours building on a windy beach.

But something inside you was beginning to creep in; an idea that seemed dangerous, and which a few weeks ago would have seemed quite simply impossible to think of.

What if you tried?

What if you tried not to be so uptight about working with him? What if, for once, you accepted the possibility that this wasn't a competition for your life?

The idea was bitter, weighing you down with anxiety. You went back to writing your letter.

I think I know what the card is leading me to, you confessed, but it is deeply unpleasant. What more can I say... I don't think this letter is going to be very long. I don't have much to tell you, and if I do, I'd rather say it to your face than on a sheet of the Glorious Academy of Piltover. You added useless curls in your writing for the title of the Academy to emphasize the ridicule of its prestigious status. You knew Eris would laugh. Did you get any new exotic payments? Here I'm drowning in copies and bolts, but your inks and herbs keep me company.

You smile for a moment, but the thought of mentioning Viktor keeps running through your mind. You looked around for a moment, as if he would miraculously appear and snatch the letter out of your hand to read it. But nothing, just the serene calm of the library - only the sound of flipped pages as students tried finding some information were keeping you compagny.

You were right about the Emperor. Of course you were. You confessed. A new pupil has arrived and, to top it all, he's beaten me in the league table. I suppose you can imagine how I felt about the situation. Every day is a tooth-and-nail battle with him. To crown it all, we've both been assigned to a collaborative project. Isn't that great? Anyway. I miss you a lot. I can't wait to hear from you. Say hi to Ekko for me.

Ekko was a childhood friend who you spent a lot of time with. It was undoubtedly through his demonstrations of repairs and your afternoons spent working on tinkering projects that your interest in science and engineering was born.

You dipped your quill in your inkwell one last time.

P.S: The name of the Emperor is-

"How long have you been here?"

You almost spilled the inkwell on the table as your eyes rose to Viktor, standing in front of you with his satchel slung over one shoulder.

You sighed. He could at least have made his presence known by clearing his throat, not by standing still and watching you like a cat under his amber eyes. You took your letter, writing his cursed name, followed by yours before blowing on the paper to hasten the drying of the ink.

"Long enough for either of us to fall asleep in Devid's classes," you huffed as you finally folded the sheet in half and tucked it into your notebook to send it later.

He wore a small smirk, gracefully relieving himself of his satchel by pulling it off his shoulder and letting it fall gently to the floor. He sat down opposite you, taking out his things.

"Was Demacian never one of your fortes for you to sleep during his classes?" he asked about Devid, your language teacher. "I thought you'd understand with your wide panel of knowledge."

"I do understand," you corrected him as you picked up a tome to begin your work session. "I'm fluent - I don't need more of what's being said in these classes."

"Why?" he asked, placing his inkwell and notebook on the table. "Ever travelled there?"

"I never travelled outside of here and Zaun," you informed him.

He sighed, looking down at his notes. "Then you don't speak Demacian."

You frowned, raising your head. He met your gaze, waiting for your next remark.

"Why?" you questioned. "Has his royal highness, all full of Runeterrian knowledge, been on a sweet trip to the Great City?"

He arched an eyebrow, his eyes drifting over the small pile of tome to grab one.

"Any idiot knows that learning a language in classes and putting it to practice in the actual region where said language is spoken is a completely different thing."

You remained silent, trying to contain and prevent yourself from giving him the pleasure of answering. You went back to your notes, pressing the binding of your notebook to the table as you jotted down a few more bits of information you managed to find in the new tome you'd selected.

A full minute passed, after which Viktor couldn't help breaking the silence.

"Why are you ignoring me?"

You sighed. Was he a puppy in need of constant attention?

"I'm not ignoring you." You confirmed, not looking up from your notes.

"Fine," he said, searching for a way to continue the conversation, to find the keyword to unlock you. "Why are you avoiding me?"

This time he'd hit the nail on the head. Obviously he hadn't been blind to your dodges, but how could he? He was observant, always making the perfect deductions, and was smart enough to get on your nerves.

"Can we focus and work?" You tried to extricate yourself from the situation.

He sank back in his chair, staring at you for a moment. "Not until you answer my questions."

This time you won his gaze. "Too bad there's no candle for you to bargain information with."

"I can find other ways," he remarked, "Miss."

You tensed at the nickname, your lips pressing together as you leaned on the desk, resting your elbows on it.

"Oh yeah?" you replied, almost amused, "I hope these ways will be as promising as you and Jayce's attempt at cooking on a heater."

He smiled, approaching you in turn. "You seem to have forgotten that I seem to know more about you than you know about me."

"And then I thought I was supposed to be the obsessed one," your brows knit as a curious little smile tried to stretch your lips. "You're not stalking me, are you?"

Your eyes crinkled, scanning his continuously. The days were receding further and further into the night, and the sky outside was gradually turning from cyan to indigo. Under the subdued lights of the library, Viktor's eyes stood out, ever more piercingly under his long brown lashes.

"From what I have heard," he continued, as you both leant on your elbows against the table as if playing chess, "Madam Selene is truly open when it comes to questions asked by her students."

He had just put your king in danger, your lips parting in surprise for a moment before closing again, jaw clenched.

"Surely she won't mind exchanging on the pride that her legal daughter is to her?"

You inhaled heavily, chewing your cheek as his insufferable sneer spread to the corners of his lips again, raising his mole slightly.

You picked up your quill again, avoiding his gaze and letting yours return to your notebook. You dipped it in with a half-open, hesitant mouth as you considered what you were going to say, both to him and on paper.

"I'm avoiding you because I can't get to be friends with my only rival."

He seemed amused by your sentence, as if you were just a child trying to impress an adult by saying something serious and threatening with the latest big word you had learned. He rested his chin on his palm, watching you write, and for an instant you thought of the paper he'd never passed you back during detention. What was he about to say?

"Isn't there an old saying about being close to your opponents?"

"Isn't there this old thing called ‘free will’ that allows me to do whatever I want?"

He shrugged. "Your free will hasn't decided to make you leave this room so far."

You regained his eyes this time, the latter looking through you, trying to peek through the cracks in your facade for a chance to see the lights that resided there.

"Are you challenging my free will? Because I can give it some physical attributes in the scientifically accurate name of 'clenched fists'."

"I'll pass." He sneered. "I'm sure Tyler has had enough lessons on this concept."

Silence fell again. You scanned the lines of another novel where too little information about Zaun was catalogued, while Viktor had not touched his pen. You could feel him in your peripheral vision, watching you, following you relentlessly.

"Am I truly your rival?" He finally asked.

"What else would you be?"

Viktor pouted, straightening slightly. "Being your rival implies having the same goal and fighting for it. I am uncertain if that definition applies to us in this case."

Admittedly, he didn't seem to have the same devotion to his academic results as you did, which frustrated you deeply. But what about the second option he cited?

"In the Academy, we all have the same goal," you replied, watching him for a moment before returning to your notes.

There was another pause on the table, and you thought that perhaps this time he would start working. But he didn't.

"I want a truce."

You looked up, raising an eyebrow.

"...Okay," you finally say, picking up another book, "good for you."

"I mean it, Miss," he insisted. "I think you've had it wrong on me-" But you cut him off.

“What are you implying?” you asked, annoyed at beating around the bush when you seemed to be the only one working right now.

"I'm not implying," Viktor nuanced, "I am saying."

"Saying?" You shook your head, waiting for the next part.

"Yes. You know, that thing that one can do with the possession of a mouth and vocal cords? You've become an expert at it just through this conversation,” he remarked as he straightened up and grabbed his pencil, twirling it between his fingers, "as it is the most we have spoken together in a week."

"Well then, conversation doesn't seem to be such a dying art anymore now does it?" you remarked.

Viktor smiled. "You seem to like quoting me."

You stared at him, raising your eyebrows and sighing. "I'm going to use unparalleled verbal condescension: shush." Your eyes returned to the tome you were working on. "This is a library, not a café."

"You've never spat in mine, by the way, reassure me?"

"After wasting my spit talking to you, I doubt I'd waste any more in your coffee."

He didn't say a word, but you knew he was smiling. Facing you, painfully fiddling with his pen as if this whole thing was some meagre task he could afford to procrastinate on.

You hated this attitude, the simple fact that he didn't seem to work to achieve his goals, that it was innate when you had struggled to rise so high for so long.

"I mean it," he said, straightening up, putting aside his teasing tone for a moment, "for the truce."

You looked up at him, his expression unfamiliar to you. There was something gentle in his piercing gaze, as if he saw something in you that was worth seeing. You sighed, thinking for a moment.

Would this childish quarrel last until the end of the year? Would you still consider him an enemy when you could have made a new friend? Friendships didn't come your way every day - you were well aware of that. But were you ready to put aside your stubbornness after the various humiliations he had put you through?

“What would a truce even mean?” you finally asked, somehow intent on hearing more.

His lips stretched slightly as his eyes widened. He shrugged.

“I don't know,” he admitted, ”I never thought I'd go this far with you, on this topic.”

Your shoulders slumped.

“Then think of something to say next time after we finish working on this.” You returned to your page, rereading your notes. “I'll take the subjects of Boundary Markets, Cultivairs, and Hope House Orphanage. One location for each level. You should pick three too.”

“Hope House Orphanage?” He repeated, mind finally concentrating on the exposé. “That's the only good thing that can be talked about in such a level.”

You turned a few pages of your notes, running through the lines of your research.

“There's always Old Hungry,” you remarked, voice lower.

The Old Hungry was a gigantic mechanized clock tower that grew from the very depth of Zaun and built itself up till levels that could reach some of Piltover's buildings. It was too imposing to avoid, and too full of history to be left aside in the presentation.

“Old Hungry? This old scrap doesn't even give time anymo-”

“It's the Heart of Zaun,” you cut in. “It's unavoidable to talk about it anyway.”

“Why don't you take it if you're so adamant about it being on our work?”

You remembered its size, the dark wingspan and the wind blowing through the dusty gears of the Old Hungry.

“I'd rather you be the one to take it.” you confirmed.

“Why?”

“Because. Don't you want to take it?”

“Do you want to get rid of it?”

You exchanged a look with him, urging him not to be picky.

“Why are you being so mysterious about all of this?” he questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

“You seem to have forgotten that you seem to know more about me than I know about you,” you repeated, annoyed.

“Shall I ask Selene?” he said ironically.

“I fear asking her this would be a limit placed both in her knowledge about this as well as your questions for her.”

He gazed at you for a moment, clearly frustrated by the secrets, the things left unsaid. You stood up, returning the tomes you'd already read to their shelves. Viktor stood up, following you.

“Acting tough will not make it hurt any less,” he said as you climbed the steps of the ladder and he reached its base. “You know this, yes?”

You suppressed a sigh as you placed one of the tomes on the shelf, arranging it perfectly in line.

“I don't need any of your life lessons,” you remarked, placing the extra tomes. “Can you move the ladder to the left?”

“You know the magic word,” he almost crooned.

You scoffed, not intending to give it to him so easily. You leaned to the side, watching, tiptoeing to reach one of the too few tomes on Zaun in the entire library.

Viktor seemed amazed at how stubborn you could prove to be, especially about him.

“Don't tell me your leitmotif resides in what doesn't kill you makes you stronger?” he questioned as you leaned dangerously toward the books.

“My leitmotif,” you pointed out as you almost reached the binding of the tome you were after, “resides in what doesn't kill you disappoints me-”

You'd reached the book, but your sentence was cut off at the end by your sharp gasp of breath. You'd just lost your balance, your feet slipping off the ladder step as you felt the air rush beneath you and expected to slam heavily into the ground.

The sound of something falling to the floor echoed, the sensation of hands on your back and waist catching you off the ground. Your heart pounding with the shock of sudden fear, you realized what had just happened in the blink of an eye: Viktor had caught you in your fall.

You could feel his thin fingers, warm and tentative, resting on the vest of your uniform around your waist. He held you there, firmly, and you felt your back brush against his chest, his breath landing on the nape of your neck and raising the hairs on it.

You released yourself from his grip and turned to face him, suddenly backing away, heart still pounding, but unable to differentiate whether this was due to the suddenness of the fall, or something else.

He seemed just as surprised as you were, lips parted. He didn't seem to be about to make a condescending remark, a joke about your lack of balance that could be matched by his, nothing.

You leaned back against the shelf, trying to calm yourself as your muscles relaxed from the apprehension of your fall.

There was a moment of quiet, a moment when, for once, neither of you knew what to say to the other. Your eyes fell to the ground, where Viktor's cane had fallen. You swallowed on a dry throat, inhaling to try and grain back your thoughts.

You knelt down to pick it up, straightening up to hand it back to him. He studied you for a moment, his eyes fixed on yours. He brought his hand tentatively up to the handle of his cane, stretched out towards him.

“Did you mean it?” you asked in a low voice as his hand reached the pommel, his thin, long fingers a minute ago resting on your waist wrapping elegantly and slowly around his cane.

“The truce?” he questioned, his voice almost reaching the whisper, as if he feared any higher volume would burst the delicacy of this bubble you were both in.

You let go of the cane, leaning back against the bookcase again, like a prop, like your crutch.

“The other night,” you began, eyes lowered to your feet on the floor, ��you said that it seemed impossible to me that you wanted to learn more about me, out of genuine curiosity. And now, you said you wanted a truce.” You raised your head, straightening to look at him. “Did you mean it, all of this?”

You felt very small, as if you were walking and, in the middle of the nettles, had found a patch of grass where you could put your feet without stinging yourself.

He seemed touched, but this emotion seemed to give way to confusion.

“Why wouldn't I mean it?”

Why would you mean it? you wondered. You'd had enough examples of how trust was doomed to fail you. You pulled yourself upright, drawing your armour back over you, closing your heart before it went beyond the confines of your chest.

“Oh sorry,” you resumed, sarcastically. “I forgot how through your many gallantries in our discussions you have evidently shown to be the most agreeable young man in the world.”

He smiled, his cheerful attitude back in place in the blink of an eye. “I cannot deny that exchanging with someone like you brings out the more playful part of me.”

“Someone like me?” you stressed, almost offended.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Your morals are like a legend - rumoured to exist, but no proof to back it up.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you started walking back to your table. “My expectations for you were low when asking this, but somehow you still failed to meet them...”

But your sentence had died on its end, as not far from your table, an unfortunately familiar, tall figure with blond curls stood.

Fuck. Tyler.

Seeing you reappear from between the shelves, he noticed you both, a cheeky grin spreading across his face as he strode towards you.

“Ah,” he smiled as he approached you, ”my tormentors.”

You sighed, standing by your table as he reached the height of your chair. “You again.”

“What?” He chuckled, feigning offense as he rested his hand on his chest. “Aren't you pleased to see me?” He arched an eyebrow. “I'm sure you've got another one of these filthy Zaunite, barbaric lessons to give me.”

“You wish you were worth the effort.” You huffed, moving closer to your chair, but he came between you and it.

You glared at him, who seemed satisfied with your reaction. He turned to Viktor.

“Your dog's got quite the bite, Moravec.” His eyes settled on you again, watching you up and down until they returned to yours. “Where did you get one of those?”

You breathed heavily, the annoyance of his remarks demeaning you to a supposedly docile and pliable being making your blood boil.

“Turns out she has a mouth and proper aligned thoughts that you could not fathom reaching, Tyler.” Viktor pointed out, coming to sit in his respective place.

The blond watched you, not letting go of your eyes for a moment as he took a step back and took his place in your chair. “How noisy insects are this time of year.”

And he was proud, of his insolence, of his overflowing egotism, which he displayed like the most expensive and chic jacket he owned in his priceless wardrobe.

“Tyler,” you began, inhaling as you tried to calm yourself, “‘piss off.’”

“Such a soft language.” He sneered, lounging in your chair as if he'd ordered its manufacture himself. Who knows, maybe all the academy's furniture rested on his family's finances. “Do they all speak like that in Zaun?”

“Why? Wanna go visit?” You inquired, crossing your arms over your chest. “I wonder what'll get taken first, your pretty blonde locks, or your tongue.”

You played on his unfamiliarity with the city, his prejudices ingrained in his mind, unfolding a terrain of fictitious threats that could be very useful to you.

It had its effect. For a slight moment, you noticed the concern in his eyes, a very silent ‘... is that true?’ that didn't cross the boundary between his mind and lips.

“My patron came to me.” He confessed, looking away as if ignoring you. “Seems like your detention ran a bit short, didn't it?”

You heard Viktor chuckle, but didn't even turn around. “It's just like you said, Miss,” he remarked, leaning forward on the table. “Looks like he is obsessed with us."

“You're not worth a thought.” Tyler spat, obviously insulted by Viktor's remark. He turned to you, grabbing one of your pencils to play with like it was his. “Didn't know you had your own patron, though.”

“Let me guess.” You sighed, placing your weight on one of your hips as you stood. “Your little clever mind aligned two dots and thought that Zaun and Patron together was an impossible combination of words here in the Academy.”

He was amused, but obviously annoyed. You must have touched a reality in his reasoning that he didn't like you to know.

“This one was a second thought.” He admitted all the same. “The first was,” he leaned in slightly, “how the hell does a girl as irascible as you managed to pull any social strings to get yourself a patron?”

You giggled. He was trying to push your buttons. Perhaps he was simply a masochist, you considered, perhaps he had a pronounced desire for humiliation. Or perhaps he was just profoundly stupid.

“Funny, I thought the same thing about you when I met you.” You offered him a smile that possessed no warmth. “But I guess walking around with a golden spoon in your mouth and shitting in silk sheets during your childhood up until now must have its advantages. Right, Hoskel?"

Tyler frowned, hemming his lower lip in anger. His eyes shifted from yours to Viktor's. “She truly is-”

But you cut him off, placing both hands on the table and leaning towards him. “She is in front of you. And she,” your voice darkened, ”can add some new marks on your face to match the blue of your eyes.”

Tyler tensed, the seriousness in your stare convincing him for a moment that your threats weren't empty words, but promises that would come true if necessary.

He let out a nervous laugh, nodding as if you'd just given him a most satisfying demonstration. He was probably thinking, right then and there, that he was safe. That on the floor of the Academy, you wouldn't repeat the violent acts that had earned you an hour's detention.

“You, are a tough one, my friend.” He laughed. “You still have the essence of your hometown so far, you as well as he.” He turned to Viktor. “Paint stripes on a toad, it'll never make it a tiger.

Your blood ran hot, the sentence like an iron that had just burned your skin raw. You gripped his tie, pulling so hard that Tyler nearly stumbled and strangled on it as you pulled him towards your face, your face twisted with hatred.

His eyes were filled with a new fear as you rumbled, your voice low. “Say that again, and I'll fucking kill you.”

His chest bulged and sagged rapidly as his shoulders were up to his ears in fear, stressing as your knuckles turned white under the tight grip you had on his tie.

He swallowed, staying that way until, in the blink of an eye, his gaze landed on your lips.

The simple act brought you back to the reality of your proximity, of your two faces so close together that anyone could have considered this something intimate. You let go of his tie as if it carried an infection, as if it had suddenly become so hot that you had to let go of it at all costs. You frowned, stepping back, watching Tyler as he breathed just as heavily.

The great doors of the library opened, and the tiny silhouette of Heimerdinger poked his pink nose into the room. This was enough for you to put aside the previous event, same for Viktor and Tyler who both turned to the professor in surprise.

You eyes widened, straightening up as he strode contentedly towards the center of the room. What was Heimerdinger doing here?

It was unusual to find teachers in the library, and obviously all the students around you seemed just as confused about the situation. He trotted on, making his way to the very center of the room under the curious gazes of students.

“Young folks,” he called, “I have an announcement to make. Please gather around me, so that I don't have to see you all one by one in the immensity of this room."

The students exchanged surprised glances, approaching him. You looked at Viktor, who was frowning. He stood up. You approached Heimerdinger. When a small arc had formed around the professor, he cleared his throat.

“I would have liked to have waited until our next class to tell you,” he admitted, “but with the news just in and the weekend coming up, I thought it wiser to tell you as soon as possible.”

Everyone was hanging on his every word.

“You see, we've been communicating for some time, the Academy members and myself, with The Great Demacia University.”

Murmurs began to rise in the tiny group of students, whispers about the white region running through the air.

“And we have concluded, after many very promising exchanges, that a few classes from the Piltover Academy will have the privilege of traveling to Demacia as part of a school trip.”

Surprise filled the room. A school trip?

"The Academy and I,” continued Heimerdinger as he walked hands behind his back, the two elements of his sentence simply inseparable, ”consider it a real cultural benefit to be able to organize such a program to link our two schools. The trip will therefore take place in a month and a half's time.”

Some of the students laughed, the joy of the news filling them. The idea of a school trip puzzled you. You'd never left Piltover or Zaun. You'd always clung on to those two towns, and upsetting that perspective was something you hadn't quite figured out yet. But it would undoubtedly be a good way of discovering new horizons, of not having to confine yourself to the same landscape of two cities you didn't like for different reasons.

However, your thoughts paused for a moment, as you sensed that Heimerdinger hadn't finished with his announcement.

“Yes, I know.” He chirped. “The excitement of a new journey is not a small thing in young souls. However, an event such as this deserves an organizational rearrangement.”

And that's where things got complicated.

“First of all, your duet presentations that were due in two weeks' time have now been determined by myself into an overall assignment for your year.”

The majority of students rejoiced, but your heart fell into your stomach. An assignment, spread out over the whole year, that you were to do with none other than Viktor as your sole partner in this work?

You exchanged a glance with him, the latter seeming unaffected, neither hot nor cold.

“And...” The professor resumed. “The planning of this event alone will eat up a good two weeks of this year. Consequently-” Silence fell, everyone waiting for the end of his sentence, "the exams in each subject for this semester have been brought closer together, and will therefore take place in two weeks’ time.”

Your lips parted, as if the apocalypse had just been added to your diary.

Two weeks. You had two weeks to study everything. Two weeks to get to know everything.

Two weeks to overtake Viktor and regain your place at the top of the ranking.

✦﹒ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

#a crown of ink #acoi #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor fic #viktor x y/n #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor #arcane viktor x you #viktor arcane #viktor arcane x reader #viktor arcane x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane #viktor

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heyyyharry · 2 years ago

Text

Night Light (from the Flatmate series)

...in which Y/N never turns off her night light.

"Wait for me in my room. It's the door on the right," he whispered to the girl whose name he'd already forgotten. He'd just met her an hour ago as he was leaving the club.

The girl kissed him drunkenly, and when she was gone, he came into Y/N's room to turn the light off. She'd fallen asleep with her book covering her face, so he removed the book, put it on her desk and left quietly.

A/N: I always fall asleep with the light on, and ever since I moved in with my boyfriend, it's become a routine for him to go into my room (we have separate rooms) to turn off the light for me. That was how I came up with this :)

She forgot to turn off her night light. Again.

See, this was why Harry hated sharing a flat with someone else. He had reminded her so many times before to turn it off before she went to bed, but every night, she would doze off with her book still in her hands. No wonder their electricity bill last month was so high. He had hoped that this girl would be less annoying when she slept, but she always managed to find a way to get on his nerves.

After a long moment of standing outside her door (which she left open for some reason), he decided to come in and turn off the light on her bedside table.

In the morning, he reminded her again. She promised she would turn off the light tonight.

She didn't.

~~~

Harry came home late, stumbling into the flat with his arm around the girl. She giggled too loud, so he shushed her and gestured to Y/N's door. The living room was softly lit by the warm light coming from her room, but he knew she was too deep in her sleep to know that he was home.

"Wait for me in my room. It's the door on the right," he whispered to the girl whose name he'd already forgotten. He'd just met her an hour ago as he was leaving the club.

The girl kissed him drunkenly and when she was gone, he came into Y/N's room to turn the light off. She'd fallen asleep with her book covering her face, so he removed the book, put it on her desk and left quietly.

~~~

Harry was in Paris tonight with his friends for Layla's birthday.

Y/N had stopped responding to his messages, so he assumed she had fallen asleep. As he sat on the sofa, drinking cheap wine with his friends while a shitty EDM song was blasting from Louis' Bluetooth speaker, he thought about Y/N sleeping with her light on.

~~~

"You're awake?"

Y/N looked up at him from her laptop, face lit by the cool light from her screen. "Yeah, deadline."

"That's what you get for procrastinating," he smirked.

"Can you procrastinate annoying me? I can't deal with you right now."

"Need help?"

"No, thanks."

"You sure?"

She gave him a dismissive wave. "I'm sure. Thank you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he said. "Remember to turn off the light."

"I will."

Harry went to his room and lay in the dark for an hour or so. When he came back to check on her, she had fallen asleep and her light was still on.

~~~

Harry was well aware that he was drunk when he entered the flat as the room was spinning. He didn't know how he managed to make it to Y/N's room without knocking over furniture, but he wanted to give himself a pat on the back.

As expected, she'd fallen asleep, again, with the light on. He sat down on the edge of her bed, not because he wanted to, but because he felt so dizzy that standing only made it worse.

"Goodnight," he whispered to her, hesitated for a moment before turning off the light.

Right after he'd left her room, he went straight into the bathroom to throw up.

~~~

He had been avoiding her all day, for reasons even he didn't understand.

It was 1AM when he came into her room to turn off the light. Before he left, he told her something he wasn't brave enough to say when she was awake. He went back to bed, worried that she might have heard it.

She hadn't.

~~~

Harry tried to be as quiet as he could, but when he came in to turn off the light tonight, Y/N stirred awake.

She blinked sleepily at him. "Hi."

"Hi," he said nervously. "Just gonna turn the light off for you."

"Thank you," she said with a smile.

"Goodnight," he said and switched the light off.

"Goodnight. I love you."

The three words froze him when he turned away. They'd confessed their feelings to each other last night, so why did it still feel like the first time?

"I...love you, too," he said, smiling shyly at her. He was thinking of kissing her before he left, but she'd already buried herself under the duvet.

~~~

"Do you want to cuddle before bed?"

Her bed was warm and smelt like her. He gave her a lot of kisses as she read her book with her head on his chest. When she fell asleep, he reached over to turn off the light.

~~~

Harry came back late for a business dinner today and she was still awake.

"It's already midnight," he said, loosening his tie.

She smiled up from her book. "We couldn't go to bed without you."

He kissed her on the lips and then her baby bump. "I'll take a shower and join you both."

When he returned, she'd fallen asleep. Harry turned off the light and carefully slipped into bed.

~~~

"Ria fell asleep with the light on, again," Y/N complained as she returned to bed from her daughter's room.

Harry chuckled, pulling her into his arms. "Like mother, like daughter. I had to turn off your light for you for years."

"I had my reasons."

"Oh yeah? What were they?" he asked, stroking her hair.

She grinned up at him. "At first, I wanted to annoy you. Then you kept doing that so I didn't bother to turn off the light anymore."

"Why am I not surprised at all?" Harry laughed, but he was glad she'd deliberately done it in the first place. "Now could you turn off the light on your side, please?"

#harry styles #flatmate!harry #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles concept

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angelsfics · 6 months ago

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Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter fic recs

i've recently started reading drarry, so here are some of the very favorites i've found. it's not a comprehensive list but just some i enjoyed! feel free to send me more recs.

Aevitumer written by MarshmalowMilkshake ♡ 95k words, rated M. Tags: Time Travel Fix-It, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort

Another Heart Whispers Back written by slytherco ♡ 53k words, rated E. Tags: Friends to Lovers, Pining Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Harry Potter, Casual Intimacy, Sexual Tension & Romantic Tension, Humor, Blind First Dates, Idiots in Love, First Time, Cuddling

Dwelling written by aideomai ♡ 83k words, rated T. Tags: Friends to Lovers, Curses, Boy-Who-Lived Neville Longbottom, Twists & Turns

Hothouse Flowers and Hot Hot Showers written by azalea_larae & boshspice ♡ 101k words, rated E. Tags: Porn with Plot, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Muggle Studies, Studying Muggle Abroad, Roommates, Cuddling, Sexual Tension, Fluff

My Fucking Flatmate written by toxik_angel ♡ 82k words, rated E. Tags: Canon Divergence, Good Draco Malfoy, Draco Defects, Hogwarts 7th Year, Roommates, Harry and Draco in the Muggle World, Youtube, Tension, Fluff, Humor

Now I Know In Part written by dodgerkedavra ♡ 39k words, rated E. Tags: Curses/Curse Damage, Cursed Harry Potter, Curse-Breaker Draco Malfoy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Cottagecore Draco Malfoy

Soulmates (series) written by dodgerkedavra ♡ 27k words, rated E. Tags: Soulmates, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Art/Artist Harry Potter, Bookseller Draco Malfoy, Protective Draco Malfoy, Running Away, PTSD, Grief/Mourning, Post-War, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

The Bolthole written by aideomai & Tepre ♡ 54k words, rated E. Tags: Grief, Cottage, Roommates, Bed Sharing, Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Harry Potter is a Hoarder

The Lesson of You written by thecouchsofa ♡ 65k words, rated E. Tags: Accidental Child Acquisition, Time Travel, Kid Fic, Fluff, Family Fluff, Forced Proximity

The Softer Side of Draco Malfoy written by QueenofThyme ♡ 29k words, rated M. Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Potions Accident, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Harry stalking Draco

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain written by Faith Wood (faithwood) ♡ 21k words, rated E. Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Third Drawer Down written by eleventy7 ♡ 1.6k words, rated T. Tags: Hurt, Angst

Way Down We Go written by xiaq ♡ 109k words, rated T. Tags: Werewolf Harry Potter, Post-Canon, EWE, Domestic, Healing & Recovery, Redemption, Roommates, Chronic Illness, Hurt/Comfort.

what husbands are for written by softlystarstruck ♡ 52k words, rated E. Tags: Werewolves & Vampires, Political/Arranged Marriage, Werewolf Harry, Vampire Draco, Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, Trans Male & Autistic Main Characters

Who we are in the shadows written by Quicksilvermaid ♡ 99k words, rated E. Tags: Werewolves, Werewolf Harry Potter, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Secrets/Lies, Angst, Possessive Behavior, Falling In Love, Enemies to Lovers

Within You Without You written by arminaa ♡ 39k words, rated E. Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mind Healer Draco Malfoy, Recovery, Anxious/Lonely/Depressed Harry Potter, Harry Potter Gets Therapy, EWE, Pining, Falling in Love, First Love/First Time

#drarry #draco/harry #draco malfoy #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfiction #draco x harry #harry potter fanfic #fanfiction #drarry fanfiction #drarry fanfic #drarry fic recs #drarry fics

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muserryy · 7 months ago

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LIFE OF REVA (H.S)

chapter 2 || LIFE OF REVA MASTERLIST || main masterlist

read chapter one here.

Reva D'Souza

It was another evening and we had just finished our takeout dinner. Now, we were lounging in the living area. I was sitting near the balcony, on a barstool at the counter table. I kept the sliding door open, letting in the wind and sounds of traffic commotion. Harry was sprawled on the couch, busy on his phone, wearing his grey sweats and a black tee.

It had been a week and a half since I started staying in this flat. and I had noticed that Harry usually spent his evenings out. However, today, he decided to stay in. I usually stayed in, went for a short walk around the block or nearby streets, or talked to my family.

Our apartment was a 2 BHK on the second floor of a building that accommodated families and students. Upon entering, there was the living space. To the left of the entrance was a wall, with the kitchen on the other side seamlessly flowing into the living area. A large glass sliding door, in the front, led to the balcony, which provided the main source of natural light. Directly across from the balcony, at the end of the living area, were two rooms; Harry's on the left and mine on the right. The bathroom was located to the right of the entrance, just before my room.

I was pleased with my room; it was boxy yet not too sophisticated. There was a single bed in the corner by the door, a weary wardrobe, a study table, and a window where I had a small potted plant that I watered from time to time. I had yet to decorate my room and was searching for ideas. I brought some of my sketches to stick on the walls, but it was certain that I was not going to keep my room plain like vanilla.

The grey paint on the walls was peeling in some corners, but it was bearable. I was satisfied with the bathroom. It was big enough and had bright tiles; everything was at a strategic distance.

It wasn't congested at all, maybe because of the fewer chattels. Overall, it was worth the half rent I was paying.

We had been sitting here for 10 minutes. At first I thought about saying or asking something but my mind was blank. I kept trying to figure out what to say because the silence was starting to feel a bit awkward. However, when we both became engrossed in our screens, I didn't care.

Eventually, Harry decided to break the silence.

"So, when do your classes start?" Harry asked, looking up from his phone. His voice was soothingly deep, with a british accent.

I looked up from mine, meeting his gaze. "Next week," I cleared my throat as I had been silent for a while.

He nodded, getting busy on his phone again. I leaned forward on my chair placing my arms against the marble counter and continued scrolling on my phone.

"You nervous?"

Our eyes met again. I nodded, mentally slapping myself to use the words. "A little, it's my first time in college, so. .. "

"Understandable," He smiled sympathetically, "but don't worry, you'll be fine. I remember my first year of college was nerve-wracking too."

I gave him a small smile.

Oh god what should I say now? Should I ask him something about it? Why the hell am I like this?

"What's your major? I didn't ask you about it before."

We had already had a conversation about the university when we realized that we were both attending the same one. It was a brief exchange, neither of us asked about each other's majors or courses. We had a small introduction— the where's and the why's. I learned that Harry was from Holmes Chapel in Cheshire and had come to pursue his undergraduate studies with his friends. I shared that I was from India and that my parents, especially my father, had encouraged me to pursue higher education abroad.

"I'm doing a joint major in literature and sociology." I answered.

"Actually, I'm also doing sociology. so we have one subject in common." He said, a grin spreading across his face.

My eyebrows shot up. Oh now that's a great coincidence. He might help me with the subject.

"Oh! and what else are you taking?"

"I'm doing a triple major in psychology, sociology and music." He responded as he locked his phone and put his arms behind his head, focusing on me.

"Wow. I considered studying psychology too, but not to that level… you know, studying for the sake of grades and all the practical stuff..." I admitted, fiddling with my phone. "I just have a deep curiosity about human behaviour."

"Well, I have been interested in it for a long time, pretty intense."

"And what about music? You like to sing or–" He interrupted me before I could finish my question.

"I like singing," he nodded, a sly smile appearing on his lips.

I gave him an impressed look, curious to know more, but couldn't bring myself to ask further questions about it. Maybe it was simply a matter of mood.

"That's great! It's your final year, isn't it? What are you gonna do after that?" I found myself asking.

I have always been interested in knowing what people will be doing once they graduate and all those future plans.

"I'm not sure yet," he shifted, sitting straight. "Masters in psychology or music, maybe. Or maybe working in music therapy." He shrugged.

And I like such answers. I like when people are unsure and still figuring things out. It makes me feel relieved and reassured, less alone. It reminds me that they are humans. We are just humans ౨ৎ.

I hadn't really given much thought to my future beyond college, but whenever someone asked me I tried to appear as if I had some kind of plan.

"Literature, right? You must enjoy reading a lot, then?" He inquired, his fingers idly playing with his soft, messy curls.

Oh hell no. I mean I do read but that's not why I chose literature. To be honest, I'm not sure why I chose it. I read mostly for myself when I feel like it. I'm not the type to be engrossed in books and texts all the time. I prefer writing.

"Actually, I don't read that much." I said, pursing my lips, knowing it must be confusing to him. A lit major who doesn't read, well— that much. "I prefer writing. I either write poetry or just… whatever comes to my head."

He raised his eyebrows at my words. I had a feeling he might be judging me, but he didn't question it.

Instead, he asked, "You write?"

I gave him a simple nod of confirmation. I wanted to mention that I was currently working on a small project but I didn't want to disclose it to anyone until I was sure it was progressing.

"Could I maybe read some of your writing sometime?" He asked, almost eagerly. I blinked.

Nobody had ever asked to read something I'd written before, not even my close ones who were aware of my writing. Harry was a near-stranger, I wouldn't mind sharing it with him now that he had asked, but something held me back. I didn't want to be judged for what I wrote. People often make assumptions about our worth as writers, after reading a few pieces. They may not say it to our faces, but the facade of appreciation and praise still scars and bothers me just as much.

Oh gosh, it's always those people.

My mind was racing with a desire to scream 'YES, YES, YES', but the word 'no' was on the tip of my tongue, to keep my writing personal and hidden away.

"I'm… I'm not sure," I muttered. "I'm not used to sharing my writing with anyone."

"Oh, no, I mean it's completely up to you. I was just curious." He smiled, favourably. I let out a breath.

Girl, you should apologize to him, at least, for being dismissive especially when he showed interest. He was curious and you said you're not sure? Really?

I could smell his probable disappointment, but I didn't bring myself to say anything. Instead, I felt an urge to confess my secret work in progress. Was I feeling this way because I refused to show him my work or—

"You know," he spoke, "I used to write poetry too, back in high school."

Woah!

"Really?"

"Yeah, I tried to, at least." he chuckled, looking down at himself and picking at the fabric of his t-shirt. "Nothing too great, mostly just teenage angst and emotions."

I chewed my lips, staring at his relaxed figure. I often found myself pouring my own emotions and thoughts into whatever I wrote. It was a way of expressing myself, especially because I couldn't verbalize my feelings.

"Looking back, some of my poetry was absolutely ridiculous," he admitted, slightly shaking his head.

He chuckled, gazing up at me, "I was a classic teenage drama queen."

"I know the feeling, I've written my fair share of corny stuff too." I couldn't suppress a titter as I said that. I leaned my chin on my hand.

"I think we all go through that phase, no?" The tiny smile never left his lips.

"Yeah, I suppose so." I concurred with a nod.

And the conversation died. I took another glance at him before averting my gaze down to my phone, seeing my reflection on the black screen. My hair, pulled into a ponytail, had somehow managed to look untidy and loose with strands of hair almost sticking out from the sides. I grimaced at my state. My hands quickly reached up to readjust it and make it somewhat presentable.

Great, I had been looking like this the entire time and it wasn't even a cute, loose ponytail.

A ring echoed in the silence, grabbing my attention— Harry's phone. He glanced at the caller before standing up and securing his door key in his pocket.

"I'm heading out," he informed me, walking to the door with his phone in his hand, still ringing. "I'll be back in about half an hour." He flashed me a quick smile before opening the door and stepping out.

"Aye, count to 20!" I heard him giggle into the phone as the door shut.

I exhaled a huff and pulled the elastic band off my hair, letting my mid-back length hair fall loose.

Time to oil my hair.

chapter 3 soon!!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harrystyles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #louis tomlinson #liam payne #niall horan #zayn malik #fanfic #writing #harry styles series #flatmates #roommates #harrys house #harry smut #harry imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles one direction #harry styles icons

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hp-fanfic-archive · 9 months ago

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Harry Potter and the Pain of Comfort by orphan_account Pairing: Harry/Ron Rating: M Word Count: 14k Harry has lived with Ron in their poky flat for years. He also happens to have been in love with the guy for so long he can barely remember how it started, but he knows for certain that Ron will never, ever feel the same way. He tells himself he's okay with that. It's fine… until he is forced out of the cupboard, and finds that he's not the only one who's been keeping secrets.

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finelinevogue · 7 months ago

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soulmates

summary - your boyfriend visits you at uni and you’re getting ready to go out for the night

pairing - university-boyfriend!harry x uni!reader

word count - ~2.5k

🌙☕️🍯🍁🌙☕️🍯🍁🌙☕️🍯🍁🌙☕️🍯🍁🌙

Harry was visiting you for the first time, after not seeing him for a month.

You hadn’t seem him for so long since he now lives across the country at his own university, down south.

Being childhood sweethearts had made going to university difficult on your relationship, but you were determined to make it work. You loved Harry and Harry loved you too much to just give up. Neither were you going to give up your dream uni courses just to be with each other in the same city.

It was decided it was best to not see each other until a month after settling into uni, otherwise you’d never settle.

You had started planning when you were going to finally see each other again, before Harry surprised you one day by messaging you his train tickets after deciding enough was enough.

And now here you are.

Together.

You’re currently in your bedroom, with Harry’s bags chucked on the floor.

He hadn’t cared about them and neither had you. Both of you just wanted to be with each other - near each other.

You hadn’t moved off the bed since he arrived two hours ago.

You were laid down side by side. Harry’s arm over your waist and up the back of his t-shirt, drawing patterns on the skin of your back. His other arm had his head propped up so he had a little height advantage on you.

An advantage that he used to sneak quick kisses onto your lips when he couldn’t resist any longer.

“I like Poppy, though.” He said.

“So you only like my female flatmates? Hmm, interesting.” You smirked.

“I don’t not like Aaron and Joel.”

“Mhm.”

“I just… like Poppy, Farrah and Maria more.”

“Did you know Joel is gay and Aaron has a girlfriend?” You bit your lip, awaiting his response.

“And suddenly I like them more.” He laughed, ducking his head into the crook of your neck to hide his embarrassment.

He knows you caught him out on being a little jealous of your two male flatmates, but you’d been exactly the same when you’d seen how pretty his female flatmates were too.

But now, you’d both gotten over that jealousy. You knew you were only for each other. There was this feeling that you got with each other that you’d both never felt with anyone else.

“Poppy suggested going out tonight?” You suggested, combing your fingers through his hair as his face was still buried in your neck.

“To where?”

You smiled at the feeling of his breath against your neck. It was a ticklish feeling you’d forgotten how much you adored.

“A bar. Or club, maybe?”

“Do you wanna go? They’re your flatmates.” He moved his head to prop it back up again.

“I want to do whatever you’re comfortable with. Poppy only suggested it, because they want to get to know you.”

“They wanna scout me out, hm?” Harry chuckled.

“They already trust you. You brought me flowers and an extra bag with your clothes just for me to keep.”

You leant up to kiss him and he let you, leaning his head down so you didn’t strain yourself.

His hand snuck out from your t-shirt and went to cup your cheek, holding it so he could kissed you how and where he wanted.

You ended up kissing for longer than just an innocent peck, before pulling back to the conversation.

“Maybe we should just stay in.” You sighed, trying to pull his full pink lips back to yours.

Harry smiled but didn’t allow you to kiss him again. “Think with your normal brain, not your sex brain.”

“Sex brain?” You chuckled, “Why would I be thinking about sex?” You asked rhetorically.

You let out a laugh you didn’t even realise you had in you when Harry tickled your side in retaliation. Harry started chuckling when he heard you laugh and laugh.

“Stop! Harry, stop!”

Harry’s hand immediately went over your mouth to shut you up.

“Oi, I don’t need your flatmates to think I’m murdering you - what with these thin walls.” He rolled his eyes as you recovered.

“Dickhead.” You swatted him.

“Love you.” He kissed you and you let him, because God knows you needed to make up for the time apart.

“I love you too.” You said softly, kissing him proper.

You pushed him off you then, reaching over for your phone to see if there were any messages in the group chat about tonights plans.

You sat up in bed against the headboard and Harry wormed his way over so his head could rest on your chest comfortably. He often said he loved how relaxed feeling your chest move up and down made him.

There were a couple of texts when you opened your phone.

Maria: plans??

Aaron: I’m game to go out if you guys are

Maria: i will🫡

Poppy: obvs i will

Poppy: y/n wbu? you can bring harry of course

Joel: Yeah would be nice to see you him since you’ve locked him away in your room

You laughed out loud at Joel’s message, showing Harry your screen which made him chuckle too.

“I’ll go out if you want to, Y/N/N. I’m happy to stay in if you also want to do that. Up to you.”

“I don’t want to get fomo by not going out with them, but I also just want to be with you.” You pouted.

Harry twisted so he could sit up and look at you. “How about we go out and if we get bored or would rather just be in bed, we can leave?”

“Can we get a chippy on our way back and eat them in bed whilst we watch Modern Family?”

“I’ll buy you the damn chips myself if that’s what’ll make you happy.” He kissed you and you couldn’t help but smile at how amazing your boyfriend was.

“Okay then, we’ll go out with them for a bit then.”

“M’kay.” Harry sunk back onto your chest whilst you responded to the group chat.

You: we will bless you with our presence 😌

Farrah: YAY!!! big win

Poppy: does harry have any fit siblings he can bring next time? can stay in my room 👀

You: he has a sister

Maria: win for me

Joel: Loss for me :(

Aaron: So… besides this group chat turning into Tinder. Plans?

Poppy: i say pres in the kitchen at 8 and we’ll leave for town at 10?

You all were happy with that.

“We’ve got 2 hours before we need to be in the kitchen for pres.” You yawned out.

“Great. So i’ll nap for an hour and a half and you’ll start getting ready now?”

You laughed.

“Yup.”

✨•✨•✨•✨•✨•✨•✨•✨•✨•✨•✨•✨•✨

“H? You ready?”

You walked into your bathroom that was private to your room - yes you paid extra just for the luxury - to find Harry gelling his hair in place.

He looked so good.

He’d gone for black trousers that were a straight fit, some Adidas gazelles and a white t-shirt that had a fun print on the front and back. The t-shirt also, apparently, glowed in the dark so you’d know it was him in a club.

You slipped behind him and slunk your arms around his waist, hugging him tight. You breathed in his scent and he smelt so fucking good. There was no way to describe him, other than yours - familiar.

“Yeah.” He responded. “Let me see you.”

He chuckled when you didn’t let him go easily, but was happy when you eventually did.

You were wearing a mini dark-denim skirt with black knee-high boots, and a black corset with a sheer black cardigan that tied over the top.

Of course you’d done your makeup as well, going all out for the night. You’d decided on eyeliner and glittery eyeshadow with a dark maroon lip shade.

Harry smiled whilst shaking his head ever-so-slightly.

“What?” You smiled, furrowing your eyebrows.

“You.”

“What about me?”

Harry held onto both of your hands, pushing you out so he could better see your outfit before pulling you back in close to his chest.

“I’m so lucky you fell in love with me.” He kissed you once.

“Don’t make me cry. This makeup took too long to ruin.” Your eyes welled up buy you willed no tears to fall.

“You look beautiful.” He kissed you again. “Gorgeous.” And again. “Hot.” Again. “Mine.”

You chuckled against his lips when he kissed you one final time, leaving a subtle tinge to his lips from where your lipstick had stained.

You brought your thumb up to wipe the mark away, but he tilted his head away before you could as apparently he wanted it there.

“Missed you so much.” You wrap your arms around him to hug him. Harry rests his cheek on your head to hug you back.

“Missed you too, baby.”

“I’m glad you’re here though.”

“I’m here for you even when i’m not physically here. You know that.”

“I know. It’s nice having you here here though.”

Harry hums in response, giving you one final squeeze before deciding for the both of you that you’re late to join the kitchen.

You both leave your bathroom, Harry turning off the light.

You head to the full length mirror for one final check over your outfit, before picking up your phone and disposable camera. Harry pockets his own phone, spraying his cologne onto his neck and wrists - making him smell even more irresistible.

He stands in front of your mirror and your squeeze in front of him, holding up your phone to take a few photos.

Once you’re satisfied, you head out of your room - double checking you have your keycard - and heading to the communal kitchen at the end of corridor.

The lights are off in the kitchen, save the multi-coloured disco ball light that you’d purchased as a flat.

The room was lit in neon greens, pinks, yellows and blues. The music was on loud, playing the ‘pre’s’ playlist you’d created as a flat.

“Ayee!” Aaron shouted when you walked in with Harry.

“Damn! Look at you!” Poppy awed at your outfit, demanding you give a twirl.

“You look so good.” You exclaimed as you took in Poppy’s little black dress.

“We were worried she’s trapped you in there, bro.” Aaron and Harry exchanged a bro hug.

“Nearly. I escaped.” Harry returned the joke.

“Want a beer, man?”

“Yeah, sure.” Harry nodded and Aaron went off with Joel to grab Harry a drink. “Y/N/N, you want me to make you a drink?”

Harry had to lean down to your ear to ask you without yelling over the music.

“Yes, please.”

“Vodka cranberry?” He asked and you nodded. He kissed you on the side of the head before heading over to where Aaron and Joel were.

Farrah, Poppy and Maria instantly crowded your space.

“Y/N, I love him!”

“He is perfect, Y/N, the hell?!”

“Talk about boyfriend material.”

“Guys, stop!” You blushed, covering your face. You knew exactly what they meant though, because Harry really was perfect boyfriend material.

“No!”

“Never.”

“Y/N/N… I’m secure in labelling myself as lesbian but your boyfriend is currently making me question my sexuality.” Maria said, making you all laugh.

You watched Harry in the kitchen, politely asking Joel what he can and can’t use and where to find things. Aaron passed him a beer for himself and he stayed talking to Harry whilst he made your drink.

“If you ever break up, I’ll stop believing in love.” Poppy said, making you smile.

It was always a fear at the start of a strong relationship about breaking up, but you and Harry had overcome that fear and were confident that it would never happen to you.

Harry was confident you’d be together until you were in a nursing home.

The number of conversations you’d had about future life, including; children, house decor, living location and wedding ring ideals made you confident that you’d never need anyone but each other.

“His parents must be so attractive.” Maria sighed.

“His mum gets called a MILF quite often!” You joked.

“I bet… She single?” Maria asked, raising her eyebrow. You’d only known her for a tiny while but you’d already gathered she preferred older women.

You just laughed her off, not quite knowing whether she was being serious or not.

Harry came back with your drink just in time. You all sat down on the L shaped sofa in the small living space adjacent to the kitchen. Harry sat next to you on the edge of the sofa, allowing you to be in the group and not over inserting himself.

You watched as he took a sip of his beer as the others situated themselves around the sofa and the surrounding stools.

“You okay?” You asked him.

He smiled and nodded at you in return, making you kiss his cheek to silently let him know that that made you happy and you were really glad he was here.

“How about we play a game? Get the drinks going, yeah?” Poppy suggested, earning a round of yeses.

“Never Have I Ever?” Joel said and everybody was okay with that. It was something basic to start off the night.

As TikTok by Kesha came on you all ironed out the basic rules of you drink if you have done something, before you started.

“Never have I ever been kissed.” Farrah said, watching everyone around the table take a drink.

“We’ll find someone for you tonight, hun.” Poppy tipped her drink to Farrah.

“Or you could just kiss me?” Maria suggested, earning a blush out of Farrah. Maria smirked as she took another sip just because, but really it was to hide her own blush. It would be silly of Maria to ignore the fact that Farrah is beautiful.

“No flat-cest thank you very much.” Joel stopped that before anything could start. “Moving on… Never have I ever questioned my sexuality.”

You took a drink at that. Others did too but Joel looked surprised at you drinking and Maria was quick to question.

“Explain.”

“I went through a rough patch thinking that I was a lesbian, actually. I didn’t really feel anything for anyone I dated,” Harry’s arm snook around your waist as you were talking, rubbing small circles on the sliver of exposed skin at your waist, “Then H came along and I was definitely knew I wasn’t a lesbian. Kind of figured I might be Demi?”

“What does that mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“It kind of means that you don’t find any sexual or romantic attraction for anyone other than ‘your person’. Harry just happened to be my person.” You blushed as you answered Aaron’s question, leaning back into Harry for comfort.

“That’s so cool.”

“Yeah, like soulmate shit.”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded, before whispering close to your ear just for you to hear, “Soulmates.”

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