#the day my son summoned his gryffindor courage and kissed the love of his life

[alwayshinny]

Happy Hinny Day - happy anniversary these two stunners

[fredweesleyismyslut]

Inappropriate gestures pt.2

So, here’s part 2 y’all and I wrote this like 3 times because the first I didn’t like and the second one my dumbass had accidentally deleted so please enjoy this one I really tried super hard and I’m sorry if it’s not great.    I’m also sorry if it seems like the relationship is kinda slow right now because I don’t want them to like jump into it and i guess it is kinda fast since they’ve only known each other for a month but idk dudes, tell me what you think.  Anyway enough of be blabbering like an idiot enjoy this and btw there probably will be a part 3 to this maybe idk.  @wangmangagavroche, I remembered to tag you, I really hope you like this and aren’t disappointed lol.  Anywho,love you guys!

You had been working for and living with Sirius for almost a month now.  It was a very pleasant job and Harry had grown and started becoming more playful overall as a baby.  He had started to be able to take a step or two before he fell which had caused Sirius much pride and laughter at the sight of his godchild, basically son, walk.  You and Sirius had also grown closer and talked every now and again after putting Harry to bed.  You didn’t know why but you liked being around Sirius whether it was just sitting in silence together or watching harry.  Today was Saturday and the day before Sirius had asked if you would like to go to the park with harry to get some fresh air.  the sun was barely up yet but you decided to get out of bed early to make breakfast and pack the food you had prepared for the picnic.  Putting on a robe over your night clothes you quietly made your way down the stairs and put the food into containers.  As you did so, you heard the slightest sound of music flowing from downstairs in the basement.  After finishing up your meal packing, you slowly walked to the stairwell to hear the music better and realized that it was a soft piano sound.  Walking down the steps softly as to not make a creaking noise you found Sirius in the basement sitting on the couch.  He hadn’t seemed to notice you as you walked over to see what he was doing so early in the morning.  He was staring at what seemed like a photobook though you couldn’t make out the faces you assumed that it was a picture of him and his three friends, well I guess you could say two counting out Peter, since their were four boys wearing Gryffindor uniforms.  As to not startle him you quietly sat next to him and coughed to let him know of your presence.  Sirius looked up from the pictures and his face that was strewn into a frown had brightened up.  “Sorry, did I wake you with the noise?” he asked, worry creasing his brow.  “No, not at all.  I woke up to prepare the food for the picnic.”  Sirius hummed slightly as he smiled at you, “This is random but I just wanted to thank you for staying with us this long, I think I..I mean Harry and me of course, really appreciate it and like having you here.”  You blushed at his previous stutter but maintained your face, “of course, I love being here with you two also.”  You looked down at the photobook and smiled as you recognized Sirius’ face staring up at you, although without the lines of worry in his face and looking carefree.  Sirius looked down and chuckled slightly, “Obviously, the handsome one is me.” You laughed and said, “Really?  You mean this one?” you said jokingly pointing at the face of a boy whom you knew as Remus.  Sirius burst with laughter at the comment and shoved your shoulder softly.  “Oh, look at the time.  harry’s probably woken up by now, I didn’t notice since I was being bullied by y/n.” said Sirius as he gave you a mischievous smile.  Laughing you poked his side, “Says the one who’s been bullying me since I arrived here.”  Sirius beamed as he suddenly grabbed your hand to pull you upstairs, “Come on you sloth we’ve got a whole day ahead of us.”  Blushing as he held your hand you followed him up the stairs, wondering if your heart was beating as loudly as you thought.  Getting ready you decided to grab a dress to wear to the park.  Is this fine? you thought to yourself as you twirled in the mirror to look.  As you were about to change thinking the dress was a bit overboard you heard Sirius’ voice from the doorway, “Common slowpoke, we’ve gotta get to the park.”  

Giving one last doubtful look in the mirror you grabbed your shoes and walked down to the kitchen to find Sirius carrying Harry in his arms.  Sirius looked at you and then took a double take before grabbing the bags as you grabbed the lunch.  In the car Harry stared out the window and giggled happily as he saw a group of birds flying, “Harry those are birds.”  “Bear Bear.” harry copied and although it was incorrect you laughed at his attempt.  Once, at the park Sirius laid out the picnic blanket under tree with shade where you could see the lake beneath you glimmering under the sunlight as if there were diamonds underneath the water.  “Maybe we can go to a beach next time...” Sirius said as he stared at the water.  “I think I’d like that.” Sirius looked over at you as you played with the hems of the dress wondering if you should’ve worn something else.  “You look really beautiful in that dress is what Harry told me just now.”  Sirius said as he leaned his face up to Harry mouth, “He also wants me to tell you that you’re a...wait Harry are you sure?  He wants me to tell you that he’s glad you wore that dress because it suits your pretty face.”  You felt the ends of your mouth lift up into a smile as you leaned over, “Why thank you Harry, such a good looking gentleman.”  Sirius beamed up from his lashes as he sat Harry down between his legs and laid down.  Harry used Sirius’ shoulder to pull himself up and take a couple steps before falling.  He started to sob softly as you quickly grabbed him and looked over at Sirius who was chuckling softly, “It’s good to learn to fail as long as he gets back up.  I only want good things for him since his parents...” His voice trailed off at the last sentence as a crease furrowed his brow.  Not knowing whether you were stepping a line you reached over grabbed his hand and looked away towards the lake not wanting him to see your blushing face.  An old couple walked down across from you as you heard them say, “What a cute couple.  i remember when we were like that.”  Your face heated quickly as you retracted your hand but Sirius reached across and grabbed your hand, “What’s so wrong with them thinking we’re a couple?” he asked sheepishly which surprised you.  You had never seen him blush but in this moment Sirius seemed to be blushing as he looked down busying his other hand with tickling Harry.  “Well...we’re not.”  “Then, w-why don’t we try.”  You paused as you looked up to see Sirius leaning over as he tilted your chin.  Placing his lips on yours he pecked your lips softly before quickly turning away.  Summoning the courage you grabbed his chin and pulled him back to your lips as you entwined your fingers in his hair and kissed him, tasting his toothpaste from this morning and the smell of his cologne.  “We could..y’know try I guess.” you whispered so quietly you didn’t even know if he heard it.  Harry in between the two of you had fallen asleep with his fingers closed around your finger.  “I think we should head back, slowpoke.”  You slapped his shoulder softly not liking the new nickname but finding it endearing coming from your new kinda boyfriend who also happened to be your boss.  There was gonna be a lot for you to think over once you got home and your life was about to get a hell of a lot more interesting with this new chapter.

[hprarepairnet]

what my hands were made for

get to know your members challenge: favourite rare-pairs ��� oliver wood & marcus flint (1/5) - maggie

setting: soul mates AU word count: 1826

Tell me I'm what your hands were made for Tell me I'm who your mouth was made for -       Tegan and Sara, Come On

There had been a small silver Quaffle inked into the skin on Oliver's right hipbone since before he knew how to walk. His mother had gasped delightedly the day it had appeared, shimmering onto his skin as if by magic.

Or, well, it was magic. Some of the oldest magic that existed, and nearly as rare as well. Often, they were called soul marks, though so few people got them that no name was even really needed when they did show up. They marked the presence of a soul mate, another individual who was so perfect for you that you were destined to be together not only in this life, but all lives. Time, space, and other human matters were unimportant - if a soul mate existed, your futures were linked inextricably together, despite the consequences.

And often, there were consequences. The fates were generally content to leave matching up to individuals. Most people tended to gravitate to their best matches, but soul mate’s relationships were so steeped in passion that sometimes there were... problems. Because great passion often manifested as anger, as pure raw emotion, and soul mates had a history of upsetting each other. Sometimes irretrievably. And thus, the fates intervened, and created a way for two people to know if their passion was rooted in something much, much deeper.

Oliver had always had a passion for Quidditch. Even without the mark on his skin, he had wanted to fly. Tumble through the air, skim the sky with his toes. It only made it better to know his chosen mate would share that passion.

He had asked his mother once what his mate's mark would look like - when he was young enough to believe she held the answers to the world in her small open palm. 

Helen had smiled indulgently down at her young son, but shook her head sadly. Because the truth was there was no way of knowing exactly. It wouldn't be the same as Oliver's, it would represent him as a person and probably match the Quaffle. But he would know, she said, as soon as he saw it.

Oliver had asked then when he got to know. When would he meet her, his soul mate?

And Helen's smile had grown even sadder, because that was the worst part. As much as a soul mark was a blessing, rare and ancient magic that proved love and passion beyond your wildest dreams, that proved there was someone out there formed by the gods just for you, it was not a guarantee. Despite the best intents of the fates, soul mates did not always find each other. The world had grown and kept growing, and soul marks were rare and often kept a secret when they did appear - for reasons Oliver had yet to ascertain. And the unfortunate truth was that once you had a soul mate, you would never be truly and completely happy with someone else.

The first goal that Oliver saved was a Quaffle thrown by Marcus Flint. It hit him in the stomach and he had nearly slid backwards off his broom, but despite the Chaser's superior strength and power, Oliver emerged victorious. He glanced up and met a pair of dark brown eyes, and his stomach had clenched, and then the Slytherin sneered and spun and was gone. 

And Oliver was left with the strangest feeling in his stomach, that something very very important had just happened.

Oliver liked Angelina. And Katie. And Alicia. He liked Cho too, though she was quiet, and a seeker – which didn’t feel right. But none of them were quite what he was looking for. None of them made his heart beat fast and his hands shake and all the other things he figured would happen when he met his soul mate.

He had never entirely considered the possibility that maybe he wasn’t looking for a woman.

Sure, he noticed that sometime in the locker rooms his eyes were drawn to the smooth planes of Charlie Weasley’s chest. That he couldn’t picture small hands on his body. Sometimes he wondered what it would feel like to have stubble brush over his cheeks. 

Mostly, he focused on flying. He focused on winning.

Oliver was in seventh year when he noticed it.

He was sitting behind Marcus in Divination trying to see something in his crystal ball when Percy made some remark about ‘pointless work’ and ‘studying for N.E.W.T.S’. Oliver had looked up to roll his eyes at his academically-obsessed best friend when Marcus turned his head to the left and Oliver noticed.

A set of Quidditch hoops, shimmering and golden, behind Marcus’s left ear. They were small, and to anyone else they might just be a magical tattoo designed to show off the Slytherin’s love of the game. But Oliver knew better. He wasn’t sure how, but as soon as he saw them he knew exactly what they were, and his hand dropped unconsciously onto his right hip.

A soul mark.

His soul mark.

Suddenly, there was a commotion at the front of the room. Trelawney was standing at the front of the room, a long bony finger stretched out in the direction of Marcus and Oliver.

Marcus turned completely in his seat to raise an eyebrow at Oliver, and Oliver was suddenly reminded that the opposing captain had changed over the summer. Longer hair, slightly spiked upwards. His teeth had been fixed, and even though he was sneering it was different and Oliver felt that same clenching feeling in his stomach that he’d felt all those years ago with that very first Quaffle.

Trelawney was still staring, her large eyes blown wide and her hand shaking as she watched them both. “Impossible…” She whispered, head shaking back and forth. “And yet… Touched by the fates themselves-”

Oliver jumped out of his seat, suddenly terrified and not wanting Trelawney to out his secret. Not sure why it was a secret, just sure that it couldn’t be Marcus! They were enemies, they were rivals – they were both men.

“Oliver?” Percy asked, carefully, reaching a hand out for his best friend to tug him back into his seat. 

“I… I feel sick. I have to go.” Oliver announced, and turned on his heel and ran.

Percy was the first person he told. 

His friend had been so worried about his strange behaviour in class, and Oliver just felt like he needed to tell someone, so he told the whole story, start to finish. From the mark on his hip, to the matching one on Marcus’s neck. From his worries about ever even finding his match to his completely new set of worries about the fact that his match was not only a man but also Marcus Flint.

He was totally, utterly, and completely fucked.

Percy had, thank Merlin, taken it all in stride.

And then he said Oliver had to tell Marcus.

And soon.

Because chances like this didn’t just come up for everyone. In fact, they came up for almost no one. And of course, there were consequences.

Oliver told Marcus at the end of the year. 

They played their last ever game against each other and Oliver won and it was all he ever wanted. His heart was soaring and he was elated and excited and really fucking proud, but there was a little nagging feeling tugging on his heart. That he wanted to share it. That he wanted to check in on Marcus.

That he wanted to kiss him.

It had taken him months to get used to the fact of his match. Months to get over the whole sexuality crisis, and the whole Marcus Flint crisis. But he was here now, and suddenly it was overwhelming with the amount that he wanted and needed and couldn’t wait another minute.

So he snuck into the Slytherin locker room after the game. He had on good authority that Marcus would be there the longest, standing under the hottest shower and running through everything that he did wrong, every reason why he lost.

Marcus was there, but he wasn’t in the shower anymore. He was standing in the middle of the locker room with a towel slung low across his hips, water droplets clinging to his chest and running in rivulets over the planes of his muscles.

Oliver’s mouth went dry.

His shoe scuffed and Marcus looked up immediately, catching his gaze, eyes narrowing.

“Wood.” He began, lifting a hand to run through his hair and shake some of the water out of it.

“Flint.” Oliver responded, swallowing hard. “I, uh,”

“Came to rub it in?” Marcus retorted, turning back to his locker. “Whatever. We beat you for years – you just got lucky today.”

Oliver shook his head, and then realized Marcus couldn’t see. “No.” He said, clearly, stepping closer to the other man. “We have to talk.”

Marcus’s shoulder’s dropped and he glanced back at Oliver. “Merlin. What on earth could we ever have to talk about?”

Shutting his eyes, Oliver counted to five and then reached down, tugging up the shirt of his robes. He pushed at the top of his pants just a little, baring his hipbone to the man in front of him. “This.”

Marcus turned fully and took three steps to Oliver, before he spotted the Quaffle and his eyes grew wide.

“Fuck.”

Oliver nodded. “Yeah.” He said, and then laughed nervously. “Never would have guess that you…”

“How long have you know?” Marcus interrupted, and then dropped to his knees to get a better look. Oliver swallowed again at the sight of the other mans dark head so close to his cock. If his Quidditch pants hadn’t been so thick, he might have felt Marcus’s hot breath against his skin.

“Um,” Oliver began, thinking quickly. “October.” He admitted.

“What?!” Marcus snapped, glancing upwards.

Oliver shrugged. “I didn’t… I wasn’t sure if…” He took a breath, summoned his Gryffindor courage. “I was scared.”

Marcus stood, and was now so close to Oliver that he had to close his eyes to stop from crossing them. “Brave little Gryffindor,” Marcus began, and Oliver could almost feel him grinning. “Scared of me.”

Oliver blinked his eyes open and forced them to focus on Marcus’s face. “Look. I wasn’t planning on it being you, Flint. No point getting all pissy at me-”

Marcus’s hand was cupping his jaw then, thumb brushing over his cheek bone. Oliver swallowed once more and stopped talking. “Shut up, Wood.” He mumbled.

And then, he kissed him. And the world stopped.

“Oh.” Oliver whispered, when they broke apart and his head stopped spinning and everything settled slowly back to earth around them.

“Still scared?” Marcus asked, though his voice was tentative and breathy and his eyes were closed now too.

“No.” Oliver admitted, and his smile cracked wide and Marcus returned it and Oliver knew, without a doubt, that they were exactly where they were meant to be.