#belle-delesque

[sallyjavery]

Saaaallllyyyyyy!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️♥️♥️♥️♥️ How’s it going, my darrrrling? 😂😂❤️

HIIIIIII!

Good thanks dollface - hope all is well with you!

[theunrealinsomniac]

Number two out of three for @belle-delesque​

More Haphne, cus yes. All the Haphne.

159 - [text] Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall

Harry smiled as he picked up his phone, the picture of Daphne sticking her tongue out at him, a snow covered, green woolly hat pushing her long blonde hair down and around her equally snow covered shoulders, lighting up the screen.

Her text scrawled across the front -

Daphne ‘Blondie’ Greengrass - 16 messages - 05:04am

Oh, this had to be good. She’d drunk text him last night after all. She had warned him to either sleep with his phone in another room, or turn it on silent. She had a habit of texting him on her nights out and last night had been Pansy’s hen do.

He was actually impressed she hadn’t drunk dialled him. It sometimes happened and when she next saw him, for coffee or a movie, hell even for the occasional dog walking expedition ... she was mortified and apologised over and over again.

He didn’t mind too much, she was a funny drunk and kind of sweet. She got very cuddly and he wouldn’t lie ... it was kinda nice to be cuddled up with your intelligent, funny, beautiful and sexy friend. 

...

Okay, yes, he had a bit of a crush on her. You try spending time around someone who was damn near joy personified. Who’s smile lit up her face when you were around and not be at least a little smitten with her.

Putting his empty plate down, he’d decided to leave his phone in the kitchen last night, and nibbling at the last remnants of his toast, Harry opened the first text message, just as his dog Snuffles, loped into the living room and got on the sofa in his usual spot.

Harry! It’s Daphne! I’m sorry, I’m drunk and I’m texting you. You’re probably asleep. We’re dancing at a club! Pansy’s wasted! X - 00:19am

You should come dancing with us some time! I bet you look good on the dancefloor! X - 00:24am

Yesh! That song’s playing! X - 00:24am

You’re so lucky to have a wiltty friends like me! X - 00:25am

Harry chuckled, the poor blonde was going to be so embarrassed. The play on words was funny though, he’d probably have to take her up on the dancing though. 

More messages.

I had to gete outside, I’m texting again, I know, you’re asleep. I’ll apologise tomorrow. I just kinda wish you were here. Creepy dude was staring down my dress, you’d have kicked his arse for me x - 01:16am

Harry frowned at that. He hoped the bloke had left her alone. She shouldn’t have her night ruined by some creeper.

The next message seemed better though.

Or maybe just to keep me warm! I’m freezing my tits off out here! Should have worn a thicker dress, or maybe some tights. Not that you want to know about wehat I’m wearing, you’d keep me warm huh? X - 01:20am

Girlies are calling me, we’re going to another club and then food, I’ll let you sleep undisturbed now! Mr ‘I can’t come on a hen night.’ Night night, sleeping beauty x - 01:25am

Undisturbed indeed, she was only halfway through her messages.

The next one seemed to have taken on a more serious note. It made his stomach drop a bit if he was honest.

Okay, real talk, why are you single? Seriously Harry,we were talking, cause the girls saw me texting and they figured it was you. THey want to know, why haven’t you got a girlfriend? You’re sweet, funny and all kinds of sexy, THEIR WORDS NOT MINE! You don’t have to answer if you don’t want x - 02:40am

Shots! X - 02:49am

Still waiting on that answer Mr Potters x 03:00am

Harry shook his head slowly as he moved into his living room, relaxing into his favourite armchair and sighed. She really was going to be mortified now.

The girls are saying it’s cus you lurrrrrrve me, I told them that’s silly. You’d have done something about it if you did. That’s kinda why I likes you, if you want something you go out and get it. If you’d wanted me, you’d have gotten me already huh? THey’re not buying that though, fuck them, they is drunk as a skunk x - 03:01am

iMaybe it’s cus you don’t want to ruin our friendshipp though ... that’s a good point, I don’t know what I’d do without you to hang out with. It’s too sad to think about! X - 03:05am

Harry’s stomach flip flopped and he nearly spat out his tea as he read the last few messages.

I’d have aasked you out, but I was kinda worrrrrrried you’d say no and then I’d look silley x - 03:17am

Maybe we should get dinner? Couldn’t huret right? What do youse thinnnk Harry? Dinner? Or I could make you breakfast? ;) x 03:19am

‘Just drunk texts,’ Harry murmured to himself as he stared transfixed at the messages. She’d be mortified when she woke up and blame everything on the drink and probably go bright red adorably and he’d chicken out on saying he’d actually quite like dinner ... this was hardly the first time she’d sent him suggestive drunk texts after all.

I’m home! Kinda wish you were here, I’m not sober enough to sleep and I could use your help getting into bed ;). If I hadn’y promised not to ring I’d so booty call you right now, screw the risks, let’s see what happens. You had to know I was checking you out the last few times we’d hung out, I felkt so obvious! Well anyway, I’m going to sleep, maybe I’ll wake up and you’ll be here. THat’d be nice. Night night Harry XXXX 04:11am

Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall. It should have you in it instead.

...

...

..

Please don’t hate me when you read these x 04:15am

Harry placed his phone down gently, deliberately. 

He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair and he stared out his window into the dense woods that his backyard fell out on to. 

He checked the time, half ten in the morning. Daphne would have been asleep for six hours. He could call ... he should call.

Shouldn’t he? 

But what if she knocked him back and it did ruin their friendship. Did he really want to risk that? Of course, he wanted more, Daphne was amazing and if he let this pass again ... would he get another shot?

Fuck it.

He picked up his phone, his stomach warbling as he dialled Daphne’s number.

The phone rang out maybe three times before -

‘Hello?’ Daphne’s voice was low, a drawl more than anything. ‘Harry?’

‘Hi Daphne, sorry to wake you, how was your night?’

Daphne yawned, groaning as she ruffled, the static of her movement coming across the line. ‘Don’t tell me, I drunk texted you huh?’

‘Yup,’ Harry said, his stomach twisting in and out of knots. ‘Did you read them yet?’

‘No, hold on.’ Daphne’s line was silent, occasionally broken by her gasping or sighing and then after a long minute Daphne spoke. ‘Fuck, Harry, that’s um ... sorry?’

Crunch time Harry, he thought, as he took a deep breath.

‘I’ll understand if you-’

‘Dinner?’ Harry blurted out, ever so smoothly. ‘I mean, um, would you mind if I took you up on that offer of dinner?’

There was more silence on the line and for a terrible minute Harry thought he’d just gambled and lost big time.

‘D-dinner,’ Daphne stuttered over the word and he could practically feel the blush blossoming on her face. Or maybe that was just his. ‘With me?’

‘Yes,’ he said, feeling more confident than he felt. 

‘Even after?’

‘Yes.’

‘Um,’ Daphne said and this time he could feel a smile. ‘Can you do tonight? My place?’

‘Sounds perfect,’ he said and smiled wide, the grinning doggy face of Snuffles looking on approvingly from the sofa. ‘What do you want me to bring?’

‘Just you ... maybe some paracetamol?’ 

They laughed together and Harry felt a warm buzz in his stomach.

‘Harry?’ Daphne’s voice cut through the sighs of post-laughter.

‘Yeah?’

‘Are you sure about us?’

Harry took a moment and smiled softly. ‘Yeah, couldn’t hurt could it?’

Daphne groaned and sighed. ‘Don’t use those messages against me, I feel stupid enough that I had to tell you in drunk texts that I fancied you. Just ... come for dinner, we’ll see what happens ... I’m not promising breakfast before you even joke!’

Harry laughed, Daphne joined in shortly after and it was warm and happy and ... perfect. ‘Okay, seven?’

‘Yeah,’ Daphne said.

‘Can’t wait.’

[theunrealinsomniac]

And I’m starting off with some more prompts! These are all for Haphne, which is lovely as we always need more haphne stuff.

41 - Screw you!

‘Screw you!’ Daphne snapped as she pointed at him. ‘Screw you so hard!’

Harry raised an eyebrow and smirked at her. ‘When and where?’

She forced her mouth not to smile and shoved him away. He only moved slightly back on the sofa.

‘No,’ her lips quivered. ‘I’m mad at you, don’t flirt with me.’

‘I was just asking a question,’ he said innocently as he nudged her side, earning himself another, more playful, shove. ‘You’re the one who brought screwing into it.’

‘Harry,’ Daphne said, a small smile beginning to peek out of the corner of her mouth. ‘I’m not kidding, I’m annoyed with you.’

The movie credits rolled down the TV screen and Daphne crossed her arms. ‘You told me they didn’t wind up together in the end!’

Harry paused the DVD player with a chuckle. He had this conversation every time she pestered him with questions about something they were about to watch. Her education of Muggle cinema was coming along quite well. But she still hadn’t caught onto that he always lied or was vague about his answers.

It was adorable.

‘Would you have rather I’d spoiled it for you?’

‘Screw you,’ Daphne mumbled as she let him wrap her up in his arms.

‘Well the movie has just ended ...’ he murmured and kissed her neck, his hands easing up her side, fingertips grazing the curve of a breast.

She grabbed his hand and fixed it down to her waist, a slightly bigger smile on her face as she uncrossed her arms and snuggled against him. ‘No, only good, not lying, boyfriends get afternoon sex.’

He chuckled and tilted her chin up gently to look at him, mirth swimming in her eyes. ‘Am I not a good boyfriend then?’

She guided his lips down to hers, her hand on his cheek as they kissed, her fingers going to his hair and pulling as the kiss deepened.

‘Maybe you’re alright,’ Daphne whispered against his lips. ‘Sometimes.’

He captured her lips again as he lay her down beneath him on the sofa, her arms going around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist as they shifted.

‘Hey babe?’ Harry said when they broke for air, after giving her another quick kiss, Like a signature she’d once said. ‘Sorry for lying.’

‘Liar,’ Daphne smirked as she pulled him back down, her tongue easing out to meet his as her hand trailed down.

‘Screw you,’ he teased as his hand ran up her top.

[theunrealinsomniac]

And here we are at the third request from @belle-delesque​

Let’s get a-cracking.

160 - [text] Who says no to sex and donuts?!

The phone in his pocket vibrated, his hand scooping it out out of habit, his thumb swiping it open and opening up the message all before he’d even looked away from his computer.

When are you finishing work tonight? X

He checked the pile of paperwork sitting on his desk, most of it could probably be done before too long. It was mostly just witness statements and a couple of reports from some of the uniform lads.

I might be able to leave for around five-thirty, need me home earlier? X

He’d barely started tapping away at his keyboard when his phone vibrated again from the desk.

Oh good, we’ve got dinner plans, Tracey just rang and wanted to know if we were free tonight. You fancy takeout? Tracey wasn’t fussed either way X

Harry chuckled and turned away from his desk, eyes sliding over the pictures on his desk. A willowy blonde woman smiling as she held a small boy with black hair and blue eyes in her arms. A couple of black haired kids, one boy and one girl, decked out in football kits as Harry stood between them with an arm round both. 

A final picture with Harry, Daphne and their two children sprawled over the floor playing with toys on Christmas morning, taking pride of place.

Tracey had just called huh? Could only mean one thing, Tracey had broken up with her new boyfriend and was reentering her social life. Which was good, Harry and Daphne had both hated that Theo prick.

What happened to Theo? X

The fact that he’d finished transcribing two witness statements before Daphne had replied told him he was getting an essay, probably listing many of Theo’s character faults and a couple of suggestions of how he could arrest him.

Okay, it’s rude that you assume something had to happen for Tracey to reach out, shame on you. However, Detective Inspector Potter, Theo cheated on her. Tracey went round to his flat to surprise him, apparently she’d text him and tried to convince him to come back to her place during lunch for a quickie. She’d even sweetened the deal … pun totally intended btw … with doughnuts. I mean, who says no to sex and doughnuts?! But the prick didn’t answer so she went to his office to find him and surprise him there. He wasn’t in and his assistant wasn’t either … long story short, Trace let herself into his flat and found him on his sofa with his assistant bouncing on his dick …

‘Ouch,’ Harry said out loud.

… so yeah, Theo’s gone, Tracey’s in bits and we’re having her over for takeout and much crying. I suggest you pick up some Chinese on your way home. I’m currently making up the spare bed and got that nice wine out. Can you check infidelity isn’t illegal again? I’d kind of love it if you arrested the bastard. What good is it having a copper for a husband if I can’t arrest my friends’ shitty ex-boyfriends? XXX

He sighed. Poor Tracey, she’d be devestated. He couldn’t imagine what that must be like. Maybe he could see if Theo couldn’t be looked into for fraud or something … he was a banker and they were always crooked somehow … He’d have a word with Su in Financial Crime on his way out.

But first.

Hit one on his speed dial brought up the smiling face of Daphne, before it disappeared and she answered.

‘Hi wife,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll get myself out for half five, want me to pick up enough takeout for the kids too?’

He could feel Daphne’s smile. ‘Hi husband, yeah, best pick up some chicken chow mein for Liam and some special fried rice for Jasmine. If they found out we had Chinese for dinner in the morning …’

‘They’d kill us dead.’ He smirked to himself and checked the time. Only half-two, plenty of time to get everything done that had to be done. ‘No worries, I’ll also have a word with Su, she’ll have a look into Theo’s financials. She’s probably chomping at the bit to take down a banker.’

‘Knew I married a policeman for a reason,’ Daphne chuckled down the line. ‘I’m gonna pick up the kids from school in a minute. They’ll cheer Auntie Tracey up if they’re in the car when I get her from home. Poor love rang me in tears Harry, please make the bastard pay in some way.’

The hard set of his wife’s tone sent a slight shiver down his spine. He’d really best try and get Theo for something. ‘I’ll do what I can. Tell Tracey I say hi, text me if there’s anything else you want me to pick up on my way home?’

She made a noise of acknowledgement and sighed. ‘Thanks babe, I will. Love you. See you soon.’

‘Love you too.’

The phone clicked and Harry tucked it into his pocket. He locked his computer and put his files in the locked drawer of his desk, before making for his office door.

Su’s office should be at the top corner of the floor below …

[theincrediblesulkmachine]

 Once you get this you have to say 5 things (publicly) about yourself that you like. Then send this to 10 of your favourite followers 😍(hehe)

♡♡♡

Already done that somewhere before, hehe. I should link that.

[sallyjavery]

Happy Birthday, babe! 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁Hope you have/had a great day! Sending love from across the globe! 😘❤️

Thanks dearie!!

[sallyjavery]

A HAPHNE. Please? God, i am figuratively hyperventilating because whenever someone opens their ask to accept prompts all I do is throw a chit with 'Haphne' written on it in their faces. Have a great day. I love your writing style. I wish I had the patience that reflected from my nonsensical ramblings on a piece of paper. Bye! Love ya!

A Haphne/PottGrass for you, my lovely! 

This is the drabble that would not drabble, so let’s make it official: Prince of Thieves, a short multi-chapter fic, is coming soon. For now, I hope you enjoy a taster…

[ Read on FFN ]

Secrets

Pairing: Haphne/PottGrass (Harry Potter x Daphne Greengrass)

Universe: Venetian AU

Rating: K

Secrets are currency, her mother always told her. Guard your secrets, keep them close, Daphne, or else -

Or else what? she wants to ask, but her mother has been dead for years, and now Daphne has more secrets than she knows what to do with.

The first (and wasn’t it the root of all that followed?) was this: that they had played together as children.

Lady Potter had been new to the city, unfamiliar with its ways, and so she had come to the Ca’ d'Erbe to sip Gillywater and be instructed in subtleties by Daphne’s mother. Lord Potter was the heir to an old house, with a seat at Court, but he had married a woman of no breeding.

“You’d never know it, of course,” Daphne’s mother said quietly, as she combed her daughter’s golden hair. “But she will not be allowed to forget it, nonetheless.”

The boy would come with his mother, small and dark-haired, quiet behind the flash of his glasses, but once his smile was coaxed out of hiding it held the sun inside it. Daphne would wait impatiently by the windows, leaping to her feet with such excitement when she saw the approaching gondola that the footmen laughed.

“Behave,” her mother would say, before the two children disappeared into the upper levels of the Palazzo, or among the exotic plants that Daphne’s father grew in the courtyard. The admonition would always be tempered by a smile, an indulgent, knowing look shared between the two women.

The second secret: they would have been married now, or at least betrothed. These things were settled young, in this city, and Lady Potter had learned its ways well enough to follow them.

They had played, once, at husband and wife. “I’ve seen my parents do it,” Daphne had whispered to him, and he had blushed to the roots of his hair.

“I don’t - what do I -”

She had leaned and pressed her lips to his; five years old, and playing, and they had both wrinkled their noses and made noises of disgust. And yet when she thinks of it now…

“May I kiss you?” Draco had asked when they were twelve, and she had let him, but it was not the same. “We’re each other’s first kiss,” he had smirked, and Daphne had smiled, demurred, and not corrected him. A third secret, kept hidden away.

It was the coup, of course; the old Duke deposed and executed, his most loyal followers summarily slain by the Pretender.

The Potters had been the last, the most vocal, the staunchest defenders of the Duke. The Pretender had gone himself to their Palazzo, had poled his own gondola along canals that glimmered petulantly beneath a clouded night sky. He had slain Lord Potter, had slain his lovely, clever wife, but something had gone wrong and the boy had escaped, and the Pretender, weakened almost to death, had disappeared.

She has heard whispers, since, that the boy lives still within the city walls, but she has never seen him. She asked Master Snape once but he sneered at her and made her practice twice as hard in punishment.

These dancing lessons: secret too. Don’t tell, her mother’s voice whispers in her ear. Wield your secrets as you would a knife -

When she asked Hermione if she had heard of him the girl’s eyes had widened, and she had hissed at Daphne to be quiet.

“How do you know that name?” she had asked her, the edges of springy curls working their way free from under her cap. Daphne had blushed without really knowing why, ducking her chin into the collar of the boy’s shirt that she wore as a man strode past them, holding his purse tightly. Two more street rats, haunting one of the narrow calli.

Another secret, the path that her feet take across the rooftops, the boy’s clothes stashed under an oilskin. The shape of the city at night.

“I remember him, from when I was very young,” she had answered eventually, and Hermione had looked at her askance, obviously hearing something else in Daphne’s voice.

A tiny slice of the secret shared, a sliver thinner than the crescent moon that lit their steps as they made their way through the market district. “Sister McGonagall will kill me for telling you,” Hermione had said softly, “But we call him the Boy Who Lived for a reason.”

Secrets for secrets. Daphne had nodded, had folded this one up small and held it close to her chest.

She sighs at the memory, at the leap of her heart when Hermione had confirmed that he was alive. Evening light the rosy colour of peach flesh bounces and dazzles off the broad back of the Grand Canal as she gazes out of the window of the Malfoy Palazzo. Daphne longs for the tartness of fresh fruit stolen from the market carts, grimaces at the too-sweet ice in her hand.

She’s too hot, and so she climbs the stairs away from the party, certain that she won’t be missed. In the years since he kissed her Draco has grown bored of her quietness, of her refusal to preen and flirt, and now his attention has focused on Astoria instead. She watches their pale heads bending together as she crosses the upper gallery, and feels nothing.

Up again, and she is in the family’s private rooms. It is quiet up here, and cool, and Daphne is just about to relax on one of the overstuffed couches when she hears a slight noise from the next room, which she knows is Lord Malfoy’s study.

The door opens soundlessly when she pushes it, and she pauses, shocked, in the doorway. A man is rifling through the large desk; a man wearing a long cloak, a hat and a mask, like most of the men downstairs at the ball, and yet there is a shabbiness, a comfort in the way that he wears this outfit, that tells her he has not put it on for amusement.

“What are you doing?” Daphne asks, and the man jerks upright, staring at her from behind his disguise.

His eyes are green, but she notes nothing else before he makes a quick movement, leaping around the desk towards her - only Daphne is faster, dancing out of his reach, whipping the stiletto from her hair and holding it against his throat.

“Ah,” he says, the edges of his eyes tightening, and she knows that he is frowning behind the mask. “I didn’t think that there would be anyone up here.”

“You thought wrong,” Daphne replies, trying to make herself sound arch and superior, but worries that she has come off prim.

“Where do I know you from?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at him. She can’t shake the sense of familiarity. He doesn’t look nearly as concerned as he should with a stiletto point jabbing at his adam’s apple, and Daphne finds that she isn’t sure whether to be irritated or charmed by his nonchalance.

He shrugs. “I really couldn’t say.”

His eyes glitter at her, emerald green, lovelier than any of the jewels that fill her father’s coffers.

“Well, Lady Greengrass,” he murmurs after a moment, and there’s something about the shape of his mouth around her name that makes her breath come short. He lifts his hand, runs one leather-clad finger along the blade of the knife. “You appear to have me at a disadvantage.”

She wants to laugh; wants to demand how he knows her name. “You’re here to steal from Lord Malfoy,” she says, and the obviousness of it makes her want to cringe.

Well deduced, Daphne.

He gives a nod small enough not to tempt the blade against his skin. The way he’s looking at her is doing odd things to her pulse, and so Daphne tries to lace her voice with steel. “I’m not letting you rob my hosts.”

“Because you’re clearly enjoying the ball immensely.” His eyes move over her face, and there, again, the sense of recognition. I know you, Daphne thinks, before realising with a jolt that he is looking at her mouth.

“You’ll understand, of course, my lady, that I cannot leave here with nothing to show for my efforts.”

Her heart leaps in her chest and her hand twitches, the knife point nicking against stubble. She only hesitates for a moment but it is long enough for him to bat her hand aside, wrap his arms around her and press his mouth to hers.

Twelve years, or thereabouts, and they were children then, but she knows - as soon as his mouth is on hers she knows, and she has dropped the knife, has fastened her fingers tight around his biceps. She opens her mouth, thinking to say his name, but then his tongue is flicking across hers, tasting of black tea and burnt sugar, riches beyond imagining. She runs her hands down his back, feeling the broad sweep of muscle tapering from his shoulders to his hips.

And then her hands are empty, and he is across the room, standing on the windowsill. Something twinkles, dangling from his hand, and Daphne raises her hand to her neck, feels the absence of the diamond choker. That -

“How dare you!” she says, trying to make her tone appropriately outraged while also determined not to look at his mouth; at the way his reddened, swollen lips now stretch back into a grin.

“I told you,” he says, eyes dancing, “I can hardly leave here empty-handed. I have a reputation to uphold.” There is a pause as they look at one another, and she watches the line of blood inching towards his collar.

“That necklace isn’t particularly valuable,” she says eventually. “There’s a lot more here worth stealing.”

She thinks that his gaze might sear a mark on her skin. “I can see that, my lady.” A flash of teeth, white in his pink mouth. “Perhaps I’ll rob your father next.”

[shadu-kiam]

I CAN'T EVEN. I AM SO HAPPY THAT I REQUESTED THAT TRIAD. Do tag me when you post the sequel. AND SO MUCH YAAASSSS TO THAT FULL LENGTH DRAGON'S HARMONY. Sorry, if i'm incoherent as shit, i probably am. But it's all your fault. Loveeeee yaaaaaa! Mwah.

omg I am going to make a VOTE so that everyone can decide the next TWO OR THREE fics I’m writing, I have too many ideas and idek how I’m going to get through them all