This Is So Precious, I'm Crying

this is so precious, I'm crying 😭

Feverish (1.4k)

summary: when peter finds out you're sick, he opts not to go do his spidey business and takes care of you instead.

warnings: reader being sick, eating and food, mentions of pete bloody and beaten

pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

a/n: look at me writing for someone other than james potter 👀 anyways, roommate au yall 🥰!!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You should just go, Pete. I’m fine over here, with my soup and … this really cold apartment.” You mutter bitterly, clutching your body tighter.

Peter scoffs, “When say shit like that I'm not assured about your well-being at all, Y/n." He sighed deeply and rubbed two fingers on his forehead.

"I insist that you go, do all your saving lives shit and come back to me with that sandwich roll I like from the corner store." You said, feeling more annoyed.

Peter put his hands on his hips dramatically, huffing a sigh and sitting down in your bed. You roll your eyes at him and press further into your sheets.

You respected and was really grateful that Peter wanted to stay at home and take care of you. But with his indecisive ass, he couldn't make up his mind. You told him countless times that you were okay, but the boy just wasn't having it.

He's been like this the moment you stepped inside the apartment. It was probably two years ago when you signed the lease to share with Peter. You were just fresh out of high school, new to the City and had no idea where you were. That was until you found the 'roommate wanted' sign in a sports centre it was posted under the name May— so you definitely didn't expect a male roommate. Turns out, Peter's aunt had helped with it, but she wasn't the one living there.

Slowly but surely, your friendship grew and bloomed in the small confines of the musty apartment. Both of you were way too broke to pay for a nicer place, months barely scraping by at your shitty jobs. This was part of the reason you couldn't turn the heater on because it cost a lot. So you settled into a nice, cheap, albeit a little rough routine.

Though somehow, Peter made it all feel good. Both of you ate from the Chinese restaurant near there almost every night, revelling in egg rolls and chicken soup. Somedays, pizza it was. Between studying, eating, and watching re-reruns of Friends episodes, life was good.

But that was before it happened. One night while you were sleeping, the door banged open. With a frightening yelp, you got our if bed with a spatula in hand to at least guard you against the sound.

But when the light was turned on by the supposed intruder, you were shocked. Peter Parker ... Peter Parker your roommate was in a Spiderman suit. And from then on, you knew Peter better as Spiderman. You sometimes still couldn't believe it, after watching him from the news screen, gliding all I've New York City.

But here you were now, laying in bed all sickly while he was by your side trying his best to keep you warm.

"Oh, God. You're shivering, what do I do?" He asks in a panicky voice, his eyebrows furrowing in complete confusion.

"Just shut up. It would make me feel a lot better." You grumbled, trying to focus on sleeping peacefully.

"I'm sorry we can't turn the heater on, shit just costs so much and we gotta save for winter." He changed the topic, biting on his nails guiltily.

"No, it's okay, m'fine." You mutter.

Out of nowhere, Peter suddenly puts a hand on your back and begin rubbing your body. Warmth spreading to you, not just on your body but also in your cheeks. Peter had always been quite the physical guy, cuddling with you in front of the television, leaning into you while you cooked, and so on.

Out of all those moments, you didn't know why him rubbing your back gently made you flush even redder. His hands go to your hair now, raking the strands and massaging your scalp.

"Feeling better?" He asks, chuckling a little at his own words.

"Mmh, not at all. But keep going, please." You said, revelling at the feeling of his soft touch. Peter is feeling your forehead, your cheeks, then your neck.

"You're really hot." He stated, gaping when he heard his own words.

You snicker at him, turning your head to his side, "Thanks, so are you Spiderman."

Peter groans at this because one of the things he hates is that you always bring up Spiderman. He said it was weird and felt like he was two people at once, always telling you to stop with it because it made him feel like someone else. But you couldn't really stop it, knowing something like this was huge.

Peter gets off the bed, his weight making the wood creak beneath him. "Come out for a sec, we'll get some soup in you and then you can rest for the day." He offers, a hand already extended so you could grab it.

You stare at the ceiling, giving Peter your hand. Your fingers innocently coil together. "Honestly, I don't have the energy anymore." You say tiredly, rubbing your head.

Peter seemed to frown when he saw your expression. You must have some sort of headache going on because you were rarely this unenergized. With nothing to say, he squeezed your hand and leaned his face forward to plant a kiss on your head. "Alright, I'll go bring it for you. Wait up for me, don't fall asleep just yet."

You smiled weakly at him. Your mind wandered to the times you've cared for each other. That one time when he came home all beaten up and bloody, his suit torn by the arm and his body limp. That was the source of your nightmares, seeing Peter like that hurt you more than anything did. He looked fragile, remembering that he was just as much a kid like you— but in a suit trying his best.

That night, you brought the first aid kit and pressed alcohol swabs to his skin. You winced every time he hissed, your heart hammering at the sight of him in pain. You had to help him shower for about a month or so, knowing how delicate the stitches you crafted on his skin were.

A knock on the door signalled Peter coming, you grinned at the sight of him inside your room. He bought a tray, in it was a bowl of soup, a tall glass of water, and a few pills. He set it down gently on your nightstand, taking out the bowl first and putting it in your hands. "Here you go, eat up."

"I could've gotten my own soup, y'know? I'm a big girl, Pete." You complain, though grateful as ever once you begin spooning the soup and feeling better with a filled stomach.

"Yeah, sure. You can't even change the showerhead setting." Peter starts, chuckling at the memory.

"That was one time!" You said loudly, but not quite a shout. "The roll thingy was hard to push, don't blame me!" You defended.

"No, no I just love teasing you." He admits. "Anyways, do you wanna watch something? I'll bring my laptop over here, I know you fall asleep faster with something playing on." He offers, a kind smile on his face.

You nodded at him through the spoonful of soup in your mouth. Then Peter was out the door, quick to bring his laptop and set something on it. He waited until you were finished eating, got the water out and helped you with the pill. After that, both of you settled in bed.

The heater wasn't on, so it was quite cold. But Peter kept you warm, his body basically covering you like a warm jacket. There were blankets strewn all over the bed, making it more comfortable for you and Peter.

Peter has a hand behind your back, caressing you over your large sweatshirt. He rubs you gently, careful not to make it harsher and cause you any discomfort. Another hand is clutched under the laptop to keep it steady.

And with a final look at the screen, your eyelids begin to close tiredly. When Peter takes note of this, he closes the laptop and lays you down gently. Then he's about to leave—

"Can you stay with me? You're really really warm and you take care of me so well." You admit, the heat on your cheeks are practically scorching.

Peter mutters, "Of course." As quickly as he jumped onto the bed. Your body is faced to the other side, so Peter takes it upon himself to spoon you gently. As he drapes his body over yours, you let out an appreciative hum.

Peter presses gentle kisses on the side of your head and you swear you've never come near bursting before. He takes his time with you, never rushing into your process of anything.

—@ wrathspoet

General taglist: @regulusblackswhorecrux @scandalous-chaos @bisexualdragongirl @scamanderinskirts @comfort-reads @ughgclden @dulcet-lover @v1oletvenus @raajali3 @bby-gxrnet

Marvel: @padf00ts-l0ver @bby-gxrnet @mydarlingremuslupin

Tasm Peter Parker: @teenwolfbitches28 @my-dearest-moony @imabee-oralizard

if your blog is crossed out, please check your privacy settings // add yourself to my taglist

no because this is perfect, i'm in love

Flirty friends (or more?) (1.4)

summary: you and james have a flirty friendship with each other for so long, that you doubt if he reciprocates your feelings or he just wants to have fun.

warnings: drinking

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

a/n: this request made me really happy bc it kinda motivated me to write this. Quite short, but I hope you like it anyways<3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Oh, you look amazing, pretty girl." James smiled at you, the stupid grin that made your heart beat ten times harder and make the room seem so much brighter. Your cheeks heated immediately, patting his shoulder and muttering a thank you.

"What's the occasion?" James asked, his grin still plastered brightly on his face. "Not that I'm complaining about this look ... just curious."

"Just a Hogsmeade trip with Marlene. She insisted since it was beautiful this month. Snow's finally receding and the airs not so chilly anymore."

James nodded, "Without me? I though we went everywhere together, darling." He flirted, a smug smile replacing his old one.

These were the times that you doubted how you really felt. On one hand, you've been desperately in love with him ever since you met the boy. The little boy who had tiny rounded glasses and red cheeks, the person you met at twelve years old. Who you've fancied ever since. He was such an odd soul to make out.

But on another hand, he was ... James. You didn't quite know how to put it. But it was James. Star quidditch player, intelligent, and sometimes really funny. You didn't know which version of James you really fell in love with. And you didn't know if all those fond memories were ready to be ruined with a solemn confession.

"I go everywhere with you, Jamie. It's nice to take a break from the stress." You mutter, though never shying from a smile.

Without a single hesitation, James pulled both your arms so that you were sat down on the couch. Your knees touching his knees, skin grazing each other. James wraps an arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer into his body. "I thought you liked being with me." He said with a playful pout.

You chuckled, patting his cheek lightly. "I do, but we hang out every hour of the day. If we keep doing this, then people will think we're dating."

James shrugged. "So?" He asks casually. "What's the most horrible outcome you can think of that will happen when we date. Tell it to me then I'll try to solve that problem for you."

"James— no, I was just— I would— no, that— no." Your brain stuttered, not knowing what to say.

James gave you a small smile, somewhere between sad and soothing. "Just joking around." He breaks the momentary silence.

You begin to stand up, your sundress flowing and touching James, making him flush at the sight of your bare legs. You give him a tight-lipped nod, "Like you always are."

—

You came back from your Hogsmeade trip pretty late, it was just befits curfew but the common rooms seems to be empty. Except for the occasional first years who were occupied with their homework. The fire still burned brightly, illuminating the dim light and causing warmth to spread throughout the room.

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of a tall boy slumped over the couch. His hair was unruly, glasses folded and gripped on his hand. You felt yourself blushing as you admired your best friend.

James had always been gorgeous, so it wasn't a surprise to you that you caught yourself admiring him right now. Sprawled over the couch, his hair falling to all sides of his face, and his face looking purely innocent. You wanted nothing more than to kiss his pretty lips and snuggle closer to his body.

You nudged him with your hand, just a soft brush. "James." You cooed, "Wake up, it's well after curfew. James—" you said, growing impatient and ending up shoving him harshly.

"Wha— Oh! Hey, pretty girl!" He exclaimed, his voice loud and shrill.

"Shut up! You're so loud."

James giggled— giggled! He giggled and gave you a lazy grin, his arms snaking around your neck and hands digging in your hair to twirl the strands around his finger. You loved it when he did that, especially when you would lie in bed with him doing nothing but paying attention to each other and having him curl your hair with his finger.

Your mind momentarily freezes, thinking of all the times you've been in James' bed and being as happy as a child with a bucket of candy. He made you so comfortable, so well loved and happy. The way he did the little things, like light up scented candles when you went over his dorm. Or how he would insist on carrying your ink and quill around because he knew you misplaced it often. James made you feel so good.

"Why are you all up and giddy? You drunk?" You asked him, peering down to stare at his drunk pout.

"Mhm. Pads gave me like ... 3 glasses. He knew I was a lightweight, that arse." James said, his eyes turing into little slits as it closed and opened tiredly.

You ran a hand through his thick head of hair, pushing his beautiful curls behind and leaving his face bare of them. James gave you the smallest smile, soft and gentle, appreciative.

"I told you not to drink anything Sirius gave you. The stuff he gets from his pureblood friends' are always extra strong for some reason. And it taste bad too." You chuckled.

"I wasn't thinking clearly. Nearly drank myself out if Moony didn't take the bottle from me. Anyways, it's my fault— I'm sorry, darling."

Your face comforted, confused. "For what?"

"For— for the joke? Right before you left, you said something under your breath and I knew you were upset."

Oh. So he did pay attention to you. Your heart beated slightly faster than usually, racing at the thought of James drinking so much because he upset you.

"It's fine— I— it didn't mean anything." You muttered. By now, James had retracted his hands from around your neck and let it lay on his thighs.

"No, I know it did. If you just tell me, then I can figure out how to make it better for you."

He was so adamant about this, you thought. Then again, he always was. James was sort of a book, all these written pages need to be read to understood. You though you already knew everything everything was about him, but there was even more than you had to find out yourself.

"It's embarrassing." You state, your leg nervously jumping up and down.

James extended his arm and gripped your knee, stopping your leg and calming you down. "You never have to be embarrassed with me, love. You know that."

"Well, it's uh— it's you. You're always bringing up the topic of us dating and doing ... stuff. And the weirdest part is I like it, I like it when you do that. And you flirt like hell, James. Here and there, you're you're flirting with me like it's so natural. Sirius noticed, Remus does too. Marlene and Lily ask me all the time about it. And Merlin, even Peter!" You said in one breath. 

"Noticed what? About what?"

"You! You flirting with me but always brushing it off as a joke when I turn serious!"

"What?"

"Don't act stupid, James!"

James struggled to get the words out of his mouth. He got choked up, the alcohol probably blurring his thoughts. "I do like you! I— I think I may be in love with you, actually." James broke the silence.

You widened your eyes, shocked at his stupidly loud declaration. You could feel the first years turn their heads and scrunch their faces in disgust at two 17-year-olds arguing about their love. 

"Don't say it if you don't mean it, James. I'm serious, if you want me then tell me. I don't want a flirty friendship, I want a relationship." You said, your cheeks growing heated at his confession.

"I like you?" He sort of questions, confused and twisted with his own emotions to notice how you rolled your eyes.

"Is that a question—!?"

James chuckled, his hands grabbing your cheeks. In swift motion, his lips were on yours. You didn't hesitate and let James melt into you. It had been way too long, so many years of your ferocious feelings for him had been kept in the dark.

Now, James had explored every inch of your mouth and you were ready to take it even further. But with his hard feelings, James pulled away and put a finger to your lips.

"I think we should continue this tomorrow, darling. Your kiss is dizzying, but so is alcohol."

You didn't care, at least you've got him now.

—@ wrathspoet

General taglist: @regulusblackswhorecrux @scandalous-chaos @bisexualdragongirl @scamanderinskirts @comfort-reads @ughgclden @dulcet-lover @v1oletvenus @raajali3

Marauders era: @risingtripletaurus @athenapotter @lauralestrange7 @sagepotters @padf00ts-l0ver

James potter: @rqmanoff @destourtereaux @messrsssss @loopy-lupinn @lilithcromwell @teenwolfbitches28 @my-dearest-moony @imabee-oralizard

if your blog is crossed out, please check your privacy settings // add yourself to my taglist

hi! can i request a harry x slytherin!reader imagine? could you also write that the reader’s best friends are blaise, pansy and draco and she’s flirty and cool and popular and harry’s had a crush on her for a long time and now he finds out she always had a thing for him but she didn’t want to admit it? thank you so much btw if u will, have a nice day <3

Say That Again

Pairings: Harry Potter x fem!reader

House: Slytherin

Warnings: none

GIF not mine! Credits go to the original creator!

A/n: Genuinely sorry for the slow updates!

“Y/n and I had a bet,” Harry turned his heels towards the courtyard as he heard Malfoy’s mocking voice. “She said Potter might well last for half an hour. But I think he won’t even last for ten minutes.”

He resisted his urge to tumble Malfoy down the Black Lake as the Slytherin seeker scoffed at her friend’s direction.

“What say, Potter?” Y/n stepped towards him in calculated steps, her disarming smile never faltering as she stood in front of him. “Make me win.”

He never understood what was that thing about her that made his heart skip a beat every time he had to compete with this particular girl during Quidditch matches (he didn’t like catching the snitch before her, though she had succeeded in capturing the restless orb many times). Nor could he comprehend why the Potions class ended in a wink when he was partnered with her.

Was he falling for a Slytherin? Heck no- he already did.

“Y/n! Transfiguration this time,” Pansy pulled her friend before Harry could reply, sending a knowing glance at her as she whispered, “Flirt with Saint Potter later.”

Getting killed by a dragon or forgetting about Y/n?

He’s getting killed this time.

“How am I supposed to battle a dragon?”

“Bloody hell, mate!” The red-haired Weasley sighed as he dramatically threw all the bundles of papers that Hermione had made him skim. “Ask Y/n if you only want to last for more than half an hour for her. I’m going to ‘ed.”

Harry jutted his chin on the fragile book that lay uninterested on the table.

“Hermione?”

Instead of words, he met with a ‘tut’ from her direction as her bushy hair grew bushier, if possible, as she sat with a castle of library books plunked around her.

This was turning insane.

“Honestly,” She scrunched her nose up in the air, “whatever you are planning is ridiculous.”

“No, it’s Y/n,” he replied dreamily after which he met with a thick spined book on his head.

Hermione was scary but the dragon was scarier.

🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄

Double Potions? Nah, a total hell.

“Like them, Potter?”

Harry rolled his eyes for the millionth time that day as the familiar white-blond hair zoomed into his sight while he tried to enter the dungeons.

Blaise, the ordinary scowl stuck under his slitted eyes, blocked the door further, his chest purposefully thrust forward like Malfoy.

And Harry could not find even one sensible reason for Y/n befriending them.

“Made them myself. And this isn’t the only thing it does,” Malfoy pointed as the badge turned an ugly green, reading Potter stinks.

“Brilliant,” the raven-haired boy hoisted the bag on his shoulder. “Now move.”

And that’s where their illogical rivalry lightened.

Harry definitely didn’t understand how he stepped into this situation where both of them were standing inches from each other, their wands ready to at least sabotage this Potions class.

“Woah, mate, calm down.”

The familiar voice reiterated in the shell of his ears as he unconsciously lowered his wand, sending death glares at the boy who just shrugged and walked away with Blaise and Pansy as Y/n crossed her arms threateningly.

“Don’t worry about those badges, though,” she tried hard to maintain nonchalance. “Consider this gift from my side.”

And as she pinned the badge she had in the fist of our palm to his still chest (he couldn’t tell why he wasn’t breathing), he had to blink at least four times to make sure she did that.

She winked at him as she walked away, pointing at the badge for the last time.

Potter Winks.

🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄

“I’m telling you, you won’t even last for two minutes if you keep daydreaming like that.”

He ignored Hermione’s upbraiding as he lied, huffing at the bland ceiling of his four-poster bed.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“No.”

He heard Hermione pluck up her books rather aggressively, and when the last footsteps died away, he rubbed his eyes in frustration.

“So much for a Slytherin, eh, mate?”

“Does that even matter?”

Ron gulped in defeat, and shrugging, shooed Crookshanks out of the dorms.

“Why don’t you just ask her out? Maybe, I mean…”

To Harry, it almost felt that the landing of the mattress slipped from beneath him.

“I don’t know… Look at her- she is so popular, she flirts do well-”

“Just with you,” Ron replied in utter boredom.

“That’s out of point- er-excuse me?”

“Only with you.”

“Pirate L/n likes Saint Potter?” Malfoy looked with amusement between Pansy and Y/n- Pansy, who giddily laughed at Y/n’s not-so-common flustered expression.

“I’m not a pirate!”

“Don’t tell me you hoodwinked Draco’s badge making,” their other friend plonked on the luxurious green couch as Y/n tutted. “Makes everything so obvious.”

“I don’t know what you all are vomiting about,” she rolled her eyes and made her way out of the dungeons.

“Accio fireb- Ahh, darn it!”

Harry shrieked in annoyance as the broomstick dwindled mid-air like straw before falling down with a thud.

Now even bad luck found him.

“You know, you are doing it wrong,” his eyes landed on the same Slytherin girl who was currently leaning on the door frame, watching him intently. “Move your hand a little less. Just a little.”

Her cold hand molded onto his warm, sweaty hand and with a flick of the wand, Harry could see the Firebolt soaring towards them in stable movements.

“Nervous for tomorrow?” Her voice was soft, not challengingly attractive this time. And this softness suited her.

“Uh- no,” he threw himself over a stray chair in the deserted classroom, patting the chair next to him. “I’m dying this time.”

Y/n snorted as she sat beside him, her eyes following the movement of his green ones.

“You will be alright. I trust you.”

And she was quite right about him being...splendid. Harry saw her lips curved into a suppressed smile as she watched him hunting for the Golden egg.

Competing with him was motive driven, but watching him was different. Quite impressive he was, for sure.

🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄

“I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching the name of Godric Gryffindor by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons!”

The Slytherins visibly froze at this commotion well before they entered the hall. This meeting was going to turn interesting at a point.

McGonagall sighed at the sight of silver and green as she turned back to the ‘bumbling band of baboons’.

“Ah, well. Since Professor Snape is not fit for guiding this stuff, the Slytherins are joining us today. Sit down, boys on the left and girls on the right.”

Harry’s heart stood still as Y/n sat straight in front of him, and even though they were sitting feets apart, he could feel the palpitations down his chest.

Minutes after Ron demonstrated ball dance with McGonagall, and the rest of the students were moving hand-in-hand with slow movements, they both were still on their seats, eyes still scanning each other.

“I’d appreciate it if you join Potter, L/n. He needs practice before the ball,” McGonagall called out as she passed by with Ron.

What was she even anticipating at this moment? At least not those teasing smirks from her friends.

“Er- do you know how to do this stuff?” The Gryffindor pointed between them as Y/n shook her head.

“Not going to lie, no. But you got to be ready for the ball, isn’t it, Potter? So, together?”

“Together.”

It felt like heaven bestowed on them as they strolled through the hall, his hand on her waist, and her hand on his shoulder. They didn’t care that they were tossers at dancing, they just carried out, without a single word, silently swaying in each other’s embrace.

Harry knew he needed her.

🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄

“Staying back for Saint Potter?”

“Pansy, the door’s straight,” Y/n deadpanned as she sluggishly rolled over the couch.

No matter how pictureistique Hogsmeade looked today, she was drained till her guts.

“Tell him that if he doesn’t ask you for the ball today, I’m framing him somewhere.”

“Draco, door’s there for you too.”

Blaise grinned at the sour faces of his friends as he scurried out of the common room, anticipating to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Y/n had her to-do list ready for today- sleep, bath, eat, sleep.

But Potter found his way to eat out a big portion of it, nonetheless.

Brilliant.

“Where next?” He piped from beside her as they strolled through the empty corridors of the castle.

“You know, Harry?” He turned to her, his long raven hair brushing the periphery of his shoulder like a bird skimming the waves. “I’ve always been with green all my life. Why don’t you show me some red?”

“So restless to see Gryffindors?” Harry chuckled as he pushed her all the way.

“I mean, yeah. Don’t pretend like you haven’t seen ours!”

🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄

“Umm, Y/n?” Harry carefully looked up from the rug as she buried herself under the invisible horizon of the book. “I just realised you have your buttons fixed, er- incorrectly?”

“Are you asserting or just shooting in the dark?”

“They are… Should I help?”

He got to his feet as she hummed in response, a floaty feeling regaining its reign in both of their stomachs.

“I’ve always wanted to ask you since that day at practice,” he gently undid a single button and looped it through the correct place, “Would you come with me to the ball?”

“Are you sure we won’t tangle ourselves while dancing?” Her lips curled in a badly hidden smile as Harry shook his head, his fingers still fumbling with the buttons.

“Well, would you?”

His face grew hot as her fingers caressed his cheek, gliding further to his nape as she pulled him closer.

And for once she wasn’t cold; only a warm breath batted his cupid bow as her forehead touched his...her shallow breaths almost sounding like an addictive lullaby to him.

“I’d love to, Harry, only if nobody contradicts.”

“Did you just call this Potter by his name?” She could hear him grin as she bit on the obliterating walls of her mouth.

What was making it so difficult?

Her train of (unanswered) questions were wrecked in between as her lips converged into his, a sweet dampness of his mouth reminding her of butterbeer. His hand raced down to her waist, closing the non-existent hiatus between them.

This happened for a while until Crookshanks conferred on them by his presence, the sudden mewl, making them jump. And no surprises when both of them fell from the bed (all thanks to Harry’s clumsy self), a low gruff groan bursting from Harry's throat.

“So, I guess it’s a yes,” he inquired as she mended to his askewed specs.

They were interrupted by scruffy footsteps and as soon as Ron entered the dorms, he froze, the bag of Honeydukes sweets cowped down to the floor.

“Er- I’ll let you both finish,” he pointed at Harry's (more than ever) messed up hair, his hand encased compactly around the Slytherin, whose lips were far more swollen than Harry's.

Y/n awkwardly slipped off from Harry’s grip onto the rugged floor as he chuckled at his friend’s uneasiness.

“It’s a yes.”

“Brilliant. So what you liked the best about this red,” he pointed lazily at the silhouette of the dorms.

“The floor,” she laughed rolling into his chest, the soft material of his jumper rubbing onto her cheeks.

“What- what? Say that again.”

Jamie crawling into the huge hoodie you're wearing when its cold and just laying down on you with his head in your chest under the fabric

Rain beats against the windows of Gryffindor tower causing you to worry about James, who would let no weather stop him from playing quidditch. You however are curled up in front of the fire in the common room, toasty and warm in your favorite sweatshirt.

The portal to the common room swings open and the quidditch team steps through, all of them equally soaked to the bone, though James seems to be the only person with a smile on his face. His eyes scan the common room before landing on you.

"Y/N!!" he nearly squeals as he bounds towards you. He jumps onto the couch and shoves his head under the bottom of your sweater and wriggles up so his head and broad shoulders are under your sweater, his damp hair peeking out from the collar.

You squirm away from him, screeching and giggling, shocked by not only his wet hair but his freezing skin. "Fuck! James! That's so fucking cold!" you shriek.

A chill runs through your body as James rubs his wet hair against your chest as he gets comfortable, "Don't worry I showered" James assures.

saw this a few months ago, saw this again now, still one of my absolute favourites <3

Dance Lessons | Harry James Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Wordcount: 12200 words (Yes, really. Do you ever just start to write a little oneshot and then it turns out as a fic with over 10000 words?)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, sexual tension but no smut, fluff, slight angst, slow burn i guess

Summary: Harry asks you to teach him how to dance for the upcoming Spring Ball.

a/n: Set in Harry’s sixth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (The beginning is inspired by this oneshot)

Not many could say that they had faced Voldemort more than once and had survived, but Harry Potter was one of the few lucky ones that had gotten away every time. And if that wasn’t enough, Harry had defeated horrifying creatures, had broken into the Ministry and had saved the wizarding world several times – more or less accidentally, but hey. He had dealt with Umbridge and fought Death Eaters.

To the world, he was a hero, he was the Boy Who Lived.

So yes, his record of fighting the evil was quite impressive for a sixteen-year-old. But there was one thing he knew he would never impress anyone with and that were his dance skills.

Because Harry Potter couldn’t dance for shit.

Keep reading

thunder-bombs; h.p

pairing: harry james potter x fem!gryffindor!reader

synopsis: you love thunderstorms, until one night they bring bad memories back. who better than harry to make you feel better?

warnings: panick attack, thunderstorm (astraphobia), bombimg references, a little overdramatic maybe?, way too much fluff

word count: 3.4K words

a/n: so, this is my first fic! I'm nervous but excited? this is one of my confort scenarios so please beware; i wrote this at 1 am when i was sad. also, english is not my first language :) hope you enjoy!

.

You have always enjoyed storms.

The rain falling everywhere, hitting everything that couldn't find a shelter; the harsh wind fighting every direction it could assume; the smell that would linger once the storm had ended; the distant booming sound of thunder and flashes of lightning, giving a hint of the war happening within the clouds. 

Actually, scratch that. You have always loved storms. 

And tonight it was no different. 

You fell asleep quite peacefully. Your roommates, in particular your best friend, Hermoine Granger, thought you were crazy. As she said, it was clear that this wasn't some random and innocent storm. It seemed much bigger, much stronger. And she found it crazy that you seemed actually happy about it. Her best friend really was strange sometimes. 

It was long after you were asleep that the gryffindor tower (and the rest of the castle, for that matter) finally calmed and rested. 

Until 3:27 am, that is. 

It was like the sky had been ripped open, leaving an aching scar behind. Like a bomb has just gone off in the middle of the common room area. 

Students woke up screaming and crying, and not just in the red house. It could be heard all over the castle. It was chaos. 

You woke up like you were having a nightmare, and in a way, you were. You jolted up in your bed, eyes widened and breath quickened. 

And suddenly, you were a naive 6-year-old child playing with the TV remote again. It was bad luck, honestly. Clicking on just that button. The button of some news channel replaying a video of an explosion in a city far away, caused by some terrific bomb. 

The fire, the bodies lying around, the screams, and the sound. It was just like that thunder. And you were reliving those images again in your mind. 

It may seem dramatic or ridiculous to some, hence why you didn't tell anyone, not even your family. But it was traumatising to you, especially at such a young age. It gave you a reality check, a different perspective of life, even though you only realised that a few years after. 

For the few weeks after the accident, you would look through the news, hidden from your mom and dad, to see if your city would explode. You couldn't sleep, afraid that you would hear that sound again, but this time, near her house, and not just on the television. It marked your childhood. 

And that thunder, that explosion in the sky, has just been like the bomb, bringing your childhood nightmare back. 

"Y/N? Y/N, come on, it's okay. Everything's fine," Hermoine's voice made its way through your mind, and you finally snapped out of your trance. 

Looking at her, you saw Hermoine at the end of your bed, her hand was on one of your knees, and her eyes were filled with worry. 

"Oh my goodness- Y/N, sweetheart, you're shaking! Come here!" Lavender Brown approached, looking a little pale herself, and pulled you into a side hug. You couldn't quite think. your surroundings were slightly blurry, and there was this ringing in your ears that just wouldn't go away. You didn't like this. You wanted to run away from this night, you wanted to go back to sleep, you wanted to go back to your harmless dreams. Dreams with no booming sounds. You wanted to hide under your many blankets and cushions and stay there, where you would be safe. 

"Hey, guys-" Parvati Patil announced re-entering the dorm — you didn't even notice when she had left — a little out of breath. "- let's go to the common room. They are all there- seems like no one wants to go to sleep now," Just now did you notice the distant noise of a mixture of chatter, cries, some yells and distinct laughs. You immediately thought of Fred and George, and them having the time of their lives; being awake at this hour of the night, making fun of their scared friends, and probably trying to terrorise some 1st years. The idea made you smile internally. 

"Okay, okay, we're coming! Maybe It would be good, Y/N, relax a little. This actually might be fun," Lavender added, getting up after giving you another pat on the shoulder and taking Parvati's hand in hers, both heading down. 

Hermoine tore her eyes from where the other two girls just were and looked at her best friend again with her eyebrows furrowed. 

"Your lips are still shaking. And hands. What's happening? I thought you loved storms and anything of that sort," Hermoine questioned. 

You tried to talk; tried to convince her that everything was fine, that you were fine, and that it was nothing. But your eyes started to fill with anxious tears and your mind was too confused to form proper words. 

Hermoine stood from her spot and pulled you into a tight hug. "Wait just a minute, I'll be right back, okay?" she said in a hushed tone, rushing out of the room moments later. 

You looked out of the window, still in a daze, as if expecting to see fire and corpses out there. But the only things she could see were the rain and the big storm that was trying to hide in the dark of the night. 

You felt so stupid. This is ridiculous, you're a Gryffindor, for Godric's sake! Where was your bravery now? You hadn't even had a single nightmare about this for years.

But even with the rational side of your mind yelling at you, you couldn't stop your body from shaking, all because of your absurd fear. You frustratedly ran your hands over your face, trying (and failing) to take deep breaths and get your shit together. But really, there was no use. 

"Y/N?" a familiar voice called you.

Your favourite voice. 

You pulled your hands back from your head and glanced up at your very best friend. Harry James Potter. 

As much as you wanted to hide and cover up your current state (which definitely wasn't your best), you couldn't. One look into his beautiful green eyes was all it took for your tears to fall, letting your walls tremble along with you. 

"Oh- Y/N!" Harry stuttered, hurrying to come close to you, his furred eyebrows contorted an adorable expression in his handsome face. 

Sitting in the middle of your bed, Harry pulled you onto his lap, which you gladly let him. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and breathed in his calming scent. 

"You're okay, Y/N, everything's alright now. You're safe, I promise. It's okay. I'm here." 

Harry kept whispering sweet things in your ear, giving you time and waiting patiently for you to stop crying. He was stroking your hair with one hand, effectively pressing your face into his neck and holding you in place. The other hand secured your body, his arm wrapping around you from under your legs, making your knees scrunched up to your chest. your hands grabbed his navy hoodie within its fists. It made you feel safe, warm and fuzzy, like you always were with Harry; even despite your current situation. 

Harry was worried, scared and confused. He never saw you, his brave, impatient, confident and happy best friend like this, and it absolutely terrified him. He just wanted to take all your fears and sadness into a tiny box and destroy it. Or keeping all those bad feelings just to him, saving you from it. 

Harry didn't like to see you cry. He didn’t like to see you scared out of your mind. And he definitely didn't like to see the desperate state you were in; sobbing and clinging onto him as if, otherwise, he would disappear forever. His heart was beating almost as quickly as yours. Harry closed his eyes tightly and tried to do his best in brushing your hair from your tear and sweat glistening face. Harry was a little shaken up from the thunder as well; he was sleeping so peacefully that it was quite the shock when he abruptly woke up. But he couldn't just figure out why it would do this to you. Sure, on his way to your's and Hermoine's dorm he saw several students crying, but a breakdown like this? 

A light kiss on his neck put Harry out of his mind. Several minutes had passed. He looked down at the girl in his arms the best he could. 

"Thank you, " you sighed in relief as a small smile was making its way onto your lips. 

He smiled, relieved too. You were finally starting to stop physically shaking. "No need for that. That's what I'm here for." 

You stayed in silence for a while. "Do you want to talk about it, Y/N? I know something's going on," Harry mumbled and re-started to stroke her hair. You focused on your breathing and closed your eyes even more tightly. Of course you wanted to tell someone, even more so if that someone happened to be Harry. After all, you had carried this burden with you, alone, for many years now. You just didn't want to show this cowardly side of yourself to Harry. It was such a stupid fear. 

"It's stupid. I-I don't even know why I am such, such a mess," you eventually mumbled, and you felt Harry holding you closer to his body. 

"If it's something that bothers you and you are scared of, it's not stupid, Y/N. Whatever it is, I am here for you, " Harry responded, pressing a kiss in the top of your head. 

A few moments passed. You took a deep breath and started to tell the memory that has haunted you for so long. "When I was little, like 6 years o-old, I was playing with, with the TV remote in my house," you paused as you tried to control her breath. 

Harry remained silent. He continued to stroke your skin and hair, just anything that his hands could reach really, not wanting to rush you. 

"The, the channel. It was a news channel. It was replaying a video of an explosion somewhere, I-I don't remember where," you continued after a few minutes, relishing the lovingly embrace Harry was giving you. 

"It showed everything, it was a video t-taken at the time. The fire, the buildings being ruined, the corpses of the people around, a-and the place where the bomb had gone off. And the sound. It was so loud and big and just terrifying. The sound, Harry. It- it traumatised me." 

Harry glanced down at you again, tearing his eyes from the random spot they were before and looked into your watering ones. 

"And that thunder was so similar to, to the noise the bomb made," you softly finished. 

It almost was as if you and Harry were in a staring contest. You were looking into his eyes to see if he thought you were being childish, ridiculous. If all of this was just some big nonsense. Harry, however, couldn’t help but comprehend. He had his fair share of childhood trauma in his life, and he absolutely understand your's. For a small child, it must really be something that would scare you, and some fears just can't be overcome. Despite it all, Harry knew that he would stay with you no matter what, and help you when that fear came to haunt her again. 

"You- you don't think it’s ridiculous or embarrassing, right?" you eventually broke the silence, growing anxious at every passing second. 

Harry snapped out of his head. "What? Of course not! How could you even think that?! Y/N, no one is perfect, you're allowed to have fears! And if you ask me, your's pretty plausible. Fuck, I would be terrified of any type of thunder or loud sounds, honestly." Harry said indignantly, hugging the girl tighter. 

You smiled up at him, now completely relaxed. Harry truly was special. 

A few minutes passed before Harry decided to open his mouth again. 

"Besides, even I almost passed out from my sleep with that thunder-bomb." 

You bursted out laughing. This boy was just too stupid sometimes. "Thunder-bombs? What the fuck is wrong with you?" 

"It's the most adequate name. Very unique if you asked me," Harry grinned, glad to see you starting to become your normal self again. 

You pressed your head in the crook of Harry's neck again, and he felt you  smile against it, along with another kiss. 

"You wanna go downstairs? Everybody’s there," Harry asked. You hummed but didn't move a single muscle. 

"Hermoine is quite worried, you know? She came downstairs yelling and slapping me. And then her worry worried Ron, and he couldn't keep his mouth shut, so now the twins are waiting for you, too. And don't even get me started on Dean, Merlin, that boy is too dramatic. Oh, and Neville cried. Ginny must be asleep again by now but I'm sure if was awake she would want to see you. Lavender-" 

"Harry, you're rambling again, shut up," Your voice came muffled. You moved your position so your chest were touching his. Then, you circled your legs around his waist, your face never leaving its place. Harry's strong arms adjusted to the new position by wrapping themselves around your waist. 

"You look like a koala, Y/N," Harry laughed, freeing one of his hands from your body to continue to play with your hair. He leaned his head on yours. 

"So, you wanna go? McGonagall must have let us stay there, for them to not come upstairs by now." 

"Hm, okay, let's go," you mumbled. You wrapped your arms and legs around him tighter, not wanting to let go. 

There was a pause then. 

"You want me to carry you?" Harry asked, but it sounded more like an affirmation. He knew how much you craved affection and cuddles when you are sad and tired. 

You nodded against him, placing another small kiss in his exposed skin as a 'please'. 

"Okay, let's go," he said, bringing the both of you off of your bed. 

And Harry just doesn’t know what to do when in silence.

Once he stood up, Harry stopped for a minute to adjust your position on him, making sure you were comfortable. Your legs were still tied to his waist, arms enveloped around his torso just below his shoulders line. Harry's hands secured you by your thighs, caressing them gently every now and then. And not once did you move her face, kissing his soft neck sometimes. 

Nobody commented on your and Harry’s 'situation', despite the many not-so-subtle glances. Everyone knew how close the two of you were, if your constantly shared affections were anything to go by. But, of course they were just best friends . The teachers even gave up on the whole 'girls and boys safety space' rule when it came to Y/N and Harry, finding it impossible to keep them apart. It was actually very endearing to the majority of them. 

Harry looked around, trying hard to ignore the many pairs of eyes looking straight at him (and the girl in his arms). 

"Where do you want to go? The group is on the big sofa by the window on the corner. But if you want we could go to the sofas near the fireplaces," Harry murmured into your ear. 

"Let's go meet the group. I can feel Fred's and Dean's nerves all the way from here. What the hell did Hermoine and the girls tell? That the thunder hit me or something ?" 

Harry laughed, and the sound made you smile. 

The classes for the next day have been cancelled. Practically everyone and everything around Hogwarts was wide awake by now, and it would take a long time to get settled down again. Besides, it was Friday. A longer weekend wouldn't hurt. 

Your eyes peeked from Harry's neck and shoulder just enough to see your surroundings. McGonagall was walking from one side to another, talking to several students and making sure everyone was fine. Some first-years trailed behind her everywhere she went. 

You were in a position similar to the one you were in your dorm, your bodies tangled with one another under the blankets that someone threw at you, probably Ron. 

The noise in the common room wasn't very loud, even though all Gryffindors were there. Many were cuddling and chatting quietly with their friends in any free place they could find, and some were sleeping. The atmosphere was surprisingly soft. The late (or early) hour and the sound of the rain outside provided sort of a sleepy happiness within the common room's walls. 

"Harry? What time is it?" you whispered. 

"A little past 4 am," Harry answered, looking down at you, his eyes and glasses shining. You continued to make your way towards your friends. 

It was funny, really. How something that was supposed to just bring bad feelings, such as sadness, fear and panic, could create these moments. Moments of pure adoration, bringing comfort beyond imagination. 

"Thank you for staying with me," your soft voice said,  your eyes full of love for the boy who was still holding you. 

Harry just smiled and leaned his forehead on yours. 

Once the two of you reached the corner, you were met with several reactions; worried glances quickly turned into knowing looks and smirks.

Thanks to Dean's and Fred's exaggerated cries for you, yelling happily that 'the thing is alive', and your grumbles for them to 'shut the hell up before I throw you two out of the window', the tension that was previously there disappeared. They were just glad that you were okay now and returning to your normal self. 

You and Harry had seated in the farthest place, right in the corner, with an incredible view from the window. 

You looked around again. And the sight before you made you temporarily breathless. 

It was still heavily raining outside, the wind strong, but the booming sound from thunder and the bolts of lightning were nowhere to be seen nor heard. The now relaxing sound outside brought you to your usual peace whenever the weather was like this. 

The light inside the common room was dim, just a few candles that McGonagall conjured were flying around and the fire from the fireplaces illuminated the place, and it was absolutely perfect. It helped to create the soft atmosphere that you felt the moment you and Harry came downstairs. Nothing was too bright, just enough to see. 

Your friends were all comfy under a million blankets, some cuddling as well. Hermoine was next to you and Harry, leaning back on some pillows, and from the moment that you got there, she took your hand in hers, not letting it go. Ron, however, was leaning on Hermoine, and the two wouldn’t stop their light bickering about the best type of weather. Ginny was dead asleep hugging a pillow beside Ron, her legs thrown over to Neville's lap. Across from them were George, Fred and Dean quietly joking around, making whoever was listening laugh. Seamus was sleeping as well, head on Dean's shoulder. Lavender and Parvati were a little far away from them, trying to find some peace and quiet. 

And then there was Harry. You looked up at him and took in the most beautiful person ever; his black hair was too messy, and his green eyes were sparkling even with the almost non-existent light. His cheeks and nose were flushed with light pink, glasses slightly crooked, and in his mouth was resting a little smile, observing the scene before the two of them too. 

Your eyes met and you decided that that was, indeed, the prettiest thing you had ever seen and experienced.

You couldn't help but press another kiss on Harry's neck (it was your thing after all), causing Harry to lean down and brush your noses together, making you two giggle. 

And in Harry's arms, with Hermoine's hand in yours, and surrounded by your amazing friends, you felt complete, like you could get through anything. 

Even thunder-bombs.