i think i saw somewhere that george was working on some

The day after the battle, Hermione Granger got up before the sun did. The Lake was covered in fog, and she was used to having somewhere urgent to go, to be, to fight. 

She closed the tent flap up behind her. Hogwarts had something like enough beds, but Hermione hadn’t had it in her to climb those moving staircases, to step through the painting’s open frame and make her way to the Gryffindor girls’ seventh year dormitory. Her bed would have been there, months untouched except for the bras and scarves and bottles of sparkly purple nail polish Parvati and Lavender had strewn onto every open surface. 

The fog rolled in off the Lake and Hermione stood at the damp shore and shivered until the sun rose and burned it all away. 


The day after the battle, they buried their dead out on an island in the Lake, the day after the battle. Madame Pomfrey fretted and hovered, but every injured witch, wizard, and squib made it out to those conjured chairs. They might sit with assistance– with spells, with braces, with a friend’s shoulder– but they sat quiet and they listened to Flitwick read out the names. 


The day after the battle, Ron Weasley stood on tiptoe when he stepped back into the Great Hall, looking over a sea of bent heads to find a cluster of red. They’d brought the tables back. 

The cluster was only a tiny blip of three– Bill and their parents were flitting about, helping Flitwick float steaming bowls of pasta down onto each table. But Ginny and Percy were sitting on either side of George, keeping up a lively conversation about Gilderoy Lockhart’s hair. 

Ginny was sitting half in Harry’s lap, like if she didn’t he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting up to help, or to pace the castle, or to walk out to the Forest and not come back. She was holding his hand, her freckled thumb running over the words written into his skin. 

Ron thought about sitting with Luna, instead. Percy tried to laugh at one of Ginny’s jokes, and Ron didn’t know how to be kind like that. Ginny held Harry’s hand. Ron had thought for a long terrible stretch of heartbeats that he had lost two brothers yesterday. 

He could sit with Dean. He could walk out to the Forest and punch Aragog in his ugly eyes, because normally when he walked away from everyone he loved it was because he was scared and maybe change was good for the soul. 

Ron pushed his hands through his hair. He crossed the Great Hall, swung into a seat next to Harry, and filled his plate with lukewarm pasta. 


The day after the battle, Luna Lovegood climbed up to the Astronomy Tower, because it was the furthest she could get away from everything. She laid on her back on the cold stone and cast balls of light and enchanted birds to chase each other across the ceiling until she felt like descending down to the ground again. 


The day after the battle, Neville Longbottom went down to the greenhouses to see what the damage was there. He had sat all night and all morning in the infirmary, fetching water for Anthony Goldstein and holding Dennis Creevey’s hand and folding extra blankets down over Professor Sprout’s cold feet. Madame Pomfrey had banished him to go get a spot to eat and some sleep, so he walked down to the greenhouses to see what was salvageable. 

Whole panes of greenish glass stood jagged and shattered. Protective spells had put out any fires, but stray blasts of magic had killed beds of vegetables and flowers and taken almost all the silver-green leaves off an olive tree that twisted in the corner of Greenhouse 4. 

Neville went in through the door, even though there as a broken hole in the glass wall big enough for him, and almost fell back through it when Hannah Abbott stood up from the row of pots she’d been crouching behind. Dirt streaked every crease of her hands. “Hey,” he said, and let the door click shut behind him. 

“Hey.” When she saw where he was heading, she added, “The olive’s still alive.”

The bark was rough under his hand, gnarled from decades of slow growth. He could hear the green magic whispering down its xylem. 

“I was thinking I’d try to mend up the walls, close this place up again,” said Hannah. “But I wasn’t sure I could do it alone." 

"Alright,” said Neville. When Professor Sprout argued her way out of the infirmary and thumped downhill with the wind throwing her cloudy hair in her face, she found every pane of glass healed and Neville and Hannah asleep on the softest patch of moss in Greenhouse 2.  


The day after the battle, Parvati Patil sent an owl to Lavender Brown’s parents. 


The day after the end of it all, Hermione skipped lunch and found her favorite secluded corner of the library instead. The chairs stood silent and sober, all gouged dark wood. The high windows threw light gleaming across the polished table, catching on the dust motes drifting through the air above it. 

She dumped her carry-all down on it and reached inside– up to her elbows, her shoulders. She tried not to feel like it was eating her alive and she pulled out protein bars and unicorn horn and crumpled wanted flyers. 

She wasn’t sure when it had gotten so cluttered– sometime before the night in the ditch outside the little Scottish village with the awesome curry shop. Sometime after the time they hid out from a storm in an unknowing Muggle’s barn, wrinkling their noses at the itch of hay as they ate their dinner. Hermione had taken first watch, listening to the thunder roll over the shallow hills outside, and she’d gone through her bag pouch by endless pouch. Harry had twitched in his sleep with every flash of lightning, but everything in her bag had been where it was supposed to be. 

She summoned a wastepaper bin to hover beside her and got to work. Quills and ballpoint pens went in a neat heap to her left. Books she stacked by subject matter around her, except for the ones she flew back to their homes on Hogwarts shelves. She checked potions ingredients for decay, tossed the bad ones and wrapped the good ones back up in their oiled cloth and ziplock bags. 

She ate a protein bar while she piled duct tape and the radio and a travel-sized magnetic foldable Muggle chess set and a depleted first aid kit all up around her. She threw the wrapper away and wondered if the smell would ever come out of the bag’s insides, or if she should just buy another one.  


The day after the battle, they started putting the stones of the castle back into place. They put bones back together, first, skin and knit muscle and tendons. McGonagall escorted every statue and suit of armor back to where it belonged. 

Sue Li sat atop a pile of rubble and ate the biggest chocolate bar she’d ever seen her life. She thought she could still taste a film of Polyjuice on her tongue, but she told herself that was dumb. She dropped little pebbles down the ragged tumble of stones, counting their bounces and calculating averages, until Astoria Greengrass showed up with a glass of water and a pasty and put them down beside her. 

Astoria got her hands dirty every chance she got, put her back into sweeping up glass shards or hauling bandages or Wingardium Leviosa-ing stone blocks the size of a horseless carriage. She would stay in the castle as long as she could, finding odd tasks and errands and corners to lurk in. When she finally went back to the Greengrass family estate, it would be to pack her bags, kiss the old house elf on the cheek, and steal her dog away with her. 


The day after the battle, Ron went out to Hagrid’s cabin in the stubborn chill of the afternoon and sat in his pumpkin patch. He didn’t go knock on the rough-hewn door, and Hagrid didn’t come out, but after twenty minutes Fang trotted into the yard and patiently got slobber all over his shirt. 

Ron watched the sway of the shadows beyond the Forest’s edge. Buckbeak’s old tying post stood among the twining squash vines and their giant fuzzy leaves, the metal ring hanging empty against weathered wood. He thought about Ginny brushing her thumb over Harry’s scars and wrapped 
his hands over the pale marks that curled around his wrists. 

When the air started biting and the sky started darkening, Ron pulled himself back to his feet and climbed up to the library. He had never lived there, never really liked its labyrinth of stacks and dusty air, but he knew the way there better than he knew the way to the Quidditch pitch or the Room of Requirement or all those other places he liked so much more. 

It was empty, except for Hermione, and he was glad. She squeezed her last book into her bag and looked up at him, shoving her hair back off her forehead. 

“They doing dinner down there?” she said, her dry throat rasping on it. 

He shrugged. “Mum’s organizing, I think. It– helps, I think." 

She nodded, looking down to do the clasps up slowly, one by one. 

"I just wanted to go back to the tent,” said Ron. “Be alone. It’s quiet." 

"I won’t get in your way,” she said. “It’s still pitched down there." 

"I know,” he said. “With you, I meant.”

“That’s not alone,” she said. “I’m not quiet,” she said. She clasped and unclasped the bag. 

“Words. Accuracy. I never claimed to be the clever one." 

"But you are, Ron–" 

"Hermione,” he said. “Come with me? You shouldn’t be sitting here alone. Come home.”

They went down the grass through chilling air. Ron could hear his mother in his head, telling him to take her bag and carry it for her, but he just reached out for her hand. 


The day after the end of it all, Ron laid on the floor of the tent, counting stitches in the canvas, while Hermione read Hogwarts, A History like she didn’t have it memorized. She read her favorite parts aloud, stopping mid-sentence when the tent flap rustled and opened. 

“Ginny’s sitting on Neville until he agrees to sleep in a real bed and not a pile of shrubbery,” Harry said, stepping inside and shutting it up behind him. “She got Luna to help because she says otherwise Luna will just fade into a corner and not come out for food.” He hunched his shoulders. “I’m not intruding, right?" 

"Don’t be daft,” said Ron and patted a bit of floor next to him. “C'mon, join in, Hermione’s trying to bore me to sleep. I suspect it’s an act of caring concern.” Hermione threw a pillow at his head without looking up from the pages.  

The day after the battle, they fell asleep in a tangle in the center of the tent that they had lugged across their country, across these long, cold days of the war. They had danced here to the radio, had chewed protein bars, played chess and bled and yelled at each other. 

But the war was over and they were growing into it, slow, staying up too late as they leaned into each other and whispered on this threadbare rug. They meant to wobble to their feet and get to bed, but Harry was clinging to Hermione’s hand and none of them wanted to go. 

They would get too old for this– hard floors and the way Harry’s neck was cricked up on Ron’s bony shoulder. Hermione’s snoring would get worse and Ron would have to sleep with four carefully arranged pillows to stop his back from aching in the mornings, but Harry would always have a place here. He had slept on Ron’s bedroom floor at fourteen, leaned on Hermione outside his parents’ broken home. 

In the weeks after the battle, Hermione would track down her parents and move back home, and they would all help the Weasleys rebuild the Burrow. Harry would move in Andromeda Tonks’s spare room. “We’re almost like family, after all,” she’d say briskly, shooing him into the house and showing him where she kept the tea, Teddy’s diapers, and the whiskey. They’d come for visits and talk through the night in each of those homes, curled up under Molly’s quilts or out on the Granger’s back porch swing or over fingers of firewhiskey with Andromeda. 

In the months after the war, he and Ron would get a flat while they went through Auror training and Hermione would crash there five nights out of seven. Her university textbooks would take over their countertops, shelves, tables, and floor and Harry wouldn’t tease them (too much) for how hilariously long they tried to pretend it was the couch Hermione slept on. 

Every home Ron and Hermione lived in, for the rest of their lives, would have a place for Harry– a spare room or a patch of floor or an old sofa. He would know how Hermione took her coffee, and his favorite cereal and Ginny’s favorite oatmeal would always been in the cupboard, and their children would have giggly cousin-sleepovers in magical tents they pitched on the living room rug. 

When the kids came shrieking in to wake them at absolutely unacceptable, ugly hours, Ginny would groan curse words they’d repeat gleefully among themselves, but Harry would let them grab his hands in their little sticky ones and pull him barefoot and messy-haired out into the morning.

To those who say Jonerys will never happen in the books, just a quick reminder Dany has been dreaming of him, even if she has not seen his face yet…

Lying abed in her narrow bunk, she found herself wondering how it would be to have a man squeezed in beside her in place of her handmaid, and the thought was more exciting than it should have been. Sometimes she would close her eyes and dream of him, but it was never Jorah Mormont she dreamed of; her lover was always younger and more comely, though his face remained a shifting shadow.

Daenerys, ACOK

He was who he was; Jon Snow, bastard and oathbreaker, motherless, friendless, and damned. For the rest of his life –however long that might be– he would be condemned to be an outsider, the silent man standing in the shadows who dares not speak his true name


The flames crackled softly, and in their crackling she heard the whispered name Jon Snow. His long face floated before her, limned in tongues of red and orange, appearing and disappearing again, a shadow half-seen behind a fluttering curtain.

Melisandre, ADWD

Jon’s face and presence is often referred to as being in the shadows, he’s always been the outsider, watching the Stark children play and even if he did play himself sometimes, he tried his best to avoid irritate Lady Stark, so he kept it to himself, as the bastard he was pained to be. 

Melisandre’s visions of him, from R’hllor himself is described as Jon’s shadow hidden…It’s not SO subtle how he’s always referred to be hidden there. 

A quick reminded that when he died, she listened to Ghost’s cries…from across THE NARROW SEA…

“Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger’s hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. “Ghost,” he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold … “


“Off in the distance, a wolf howledThe sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry. As the moon rose above the grasslands, Dany slipped at last into a restless sleep.“

Daenerys, ADWD

These chapters happen at the same time, how can Daenerys Targaryen, in Meeren, listen to Jon’s murder at the Wall, North of Westeros, if not for the bond they have…without ever meeting. Call it soulmates, fate, whatever you want. Martin does not use words he does not think necessary nor he adds information that the story does not need. If you ever read one his books, you’ll know he’s sharp and everything means something, even the puzzles and riddles thrown our way. Daenerys heard his soul, Ghost’s cries (perhaps his own, warg ones), and she felt sad over it, not even knowing why.

A reminder that when Dany was at the House of the Undying, she only saw important, relevant things. Not only to herself, but to the realm: the rape of Westeros, The Red Wedding, the madness of Aerys Targaryen demanding to burn Kings Landing, Rhaegar and Elia talking of Aegon and his promised song, the fake dragon (Faegon, am I right?), Hardhome, what her son’s future would have been like, White Walkers, Rhaegar’s murmuring a woman’s name right before he died (we all assume is Lyanna’s, I guess we’ll find out eventually), and there are others, but to me it means a lot that one of these visions is:

a blue flower growing from a chink in a wall of ice, filling the air with sweetness.

Daenerys, ACOK

Oh, she also sees the red door of the house she loved and she remembers growing up, and she believed it was in Braavos. She only had important sights for the realm and herself, yet she sees a blue flower growing at the wall (if you don’t think this means Jon Snow growing at the Wall, we can’t be friends and you can’t even read this, bye! JK haha…but come on, Lyanna is said to have loved winter roses, which are blue…the same ones that composed the crown Rhaegar Targaryen crowned her with, as The Queen of Love and Beauty at the Tourney of Harrenhal. Jon lives, works, serves at the Wall, it doesn’t get any more obvious than this, y’all…only if Martin wrote she saw a ‘hot northmen with gorgeous hair at Castle Black, really…”). 

(whoever did this second gif, thank you so very much, this is beautiful <3)

So not only does this shows how important Jon is to the realm (remember how her visions are all important, not only to her but also to Westeros? *inserts my theory of them both being AA* But he’s also important to her, the flower is not just THERE, it also fills the air with sweetness, it pleases her. Do I need to say more? 

This one is very meaningful if not very telling, to me. They both feel alone, like something is missing. One can even say “they feel alone cause they are alone”, but they were not. It almost feels like there is someone out there, a better match. 

Beneath her coverlets she tossed and turned, dreaming that Hizdahr was kissing her … but his lips were blue and bruised, and when he thrust himself inside her, his manhood was cold as ice. She sat up with her hair disheveled and the bedclothes atangle. Her captain slept beside her, yet she was alone.

Daenerys, ADWD

Jon wondered where Ghost was now. Had he gone to Castle Black, or was he was running with some wolfpack in the woods? He had no sense of the direwolf, not even in his dreams. It made him feel as if part of himself had been cut off. Even with Ygritte sleeping beside him, he felt alone.


their story is a never ending parallel.

Not to disrespect Ygritte, cause I think she was necessary to Jon’s growth. She was a great character and I do believe Jon loved her, at some point. But just like Daenerys, this love was not a choice, it was almost like a survival choice, they made the best out of a bad situation. 

He had to be with Ygritte, or Mance would have killed him, he would not believe Jon had really deserted the Night’s Watch. Ygritte wasn’t Jon’s act of rebellion, like I once read at a meta, no, she was, at first, his sacrifice/way to fill his mission. But somewhere along the way, he fell in love with her, she was strong, funny, and she awoke the sexuality in him. Again, he had to be with her, to prove himself, but it also wasn’t like he didn’t like it. 

Daenerys loved Khal Drogo? Yeah, but it was as forced as was Jon and Ygritte. One can say it was even worse for she did not go willing, she was pushed into it, sold like a slave, to get her brother an army (we do have to thank karma cause his army never came, boo-ya, sucker!). She was given to a stranger, a savage (comparing to her culture; it’s funny even to see the parallel here, both had to be with people that are considered savages, wildlings where they come from) in return of an army, and she made the best of her situation, she learnt his language, his manners, bore his child (even if the baby never came to live), she fell in love with him cause for the first time in a very long time (or forever?), she was treated with care and love (the way Drogo knew how to love) by the man in her life. 

A sweet reminder of how Daenerys thinks of her family and how she would have married Rhaegar’s son, had he lived. Rhaegar’s son, who’s Jon’s daddy again? 

Plus, we’ve seen on the show that Jon was named Aegon Targaryen too, we do not know if he will have the same name on the books but I honestly do not think they would change something so important. 

So, just another beautiful “easter egg” to ya:

Five Aegons had ruled the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. 

There would have been a sixth, but the Usurper’s dogs had murdered her brother’s son when he was still a babe at the breast. If he had lived, I might have married him. “

Daenerys, ADWD

Who says you still won’t, sweetie? Hold on, Melisandre will bring him back or he was warging Ghost, let’s just wait a bit longer, okay? 

Their journey is a never ending parallel, and their path is clearly to each other.

I don’t think the history is called ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’ without a cause, Jon may be blood of the dragon, but he’s also a Stark, and Daenerys is a Targaryen through and through…

*the lord of light aka george r.r. martin speaks through melisandre*

I’m back to reading the books and even if I’m still at AGOT, I just felt like making this, had a really bad day and making this made it a little better. 

What are your thoughts? <3 

Business and Pleasure - Part 17

Summary:  Bucky AU. After a major deal falls through, your father’s business almost falls apart. In a desperate attempt to save his livelihood, he seeks the help of his oldest friend, George Barnes, who happens to be the CEO of one of the most influential businesses in New York. He agrees, but on one condition. You have to marry his son.

Word Count: 2,881

Warnings: Swearing, angst

Originally posted by captaincentenarian

In the weeks following, you had almost completely isolated yourself. You were now working from home, unable to find the motivation to drag yourself into the office. It wasn’t like you had to be there anyway. Your job mostly consisted of things that could easily be done remotely. Any time your team needed to consult with you, they just scheduled a conference call. Anyway, Steve kept you updated if there was anything you missed. That was one of the many bonuses of working with him.

You were still staying with Steve, but you preferred to spend most of your time in your room. You were suddenly thankful that he had ignored your advice and rented the two-bedroom apartment rather than the one bedroom that you had initially suggested. When he was at work, it was either Wanda or Steve’s friend Natasha who watched over you. You tried to insist that it was unnecessary, but none of them would listen. They usually left when Steve got home, and you would sit with him, eat dinner and watch whatever sports game or TV show Steve was watching, then excuse yourself to go to bed.

Keep reading

The Joy of Socks

yeah, idk either, really. Happy birthday, Harry! [AO3]

Presents for Potter: Saviour Seeks Socks

What do you get the man who single-handedly saved us all from You-Know-Who? A luxury holiday? A bottle of Ogdeon’s Finest? Soap-on-a-rope? Harry Potter’s birthday is coming up, and the Prophet managed to secure an exclusive interview with the man himself. We asked what he really, really wants to receive on the big day.

“A wise man once said to me, you can never have enough socks,” said Potter. “Once you reach a certain level of fame, no one gives you socks any more. At the time, I was too young to truly appreciate the remark, but now I get it. Socks are a great gift—and I never get any!”

So there you have it. Harry Potter needs socks! You can send him some, c/o the Prophet, and we will make sure he gets them. But who was the learned individual who gave Potter such advice? Some have suggested that [cont. page 3]

“How many is this now?” Ginny asked, unwrapping yet another package.

“Today? Including those that were sent to work? Or in total? Because I think we must be close to five hundred pairs, by this point,” Harry replied, holding up another pair. “Ooh, look, these ones have snitches on them, that’s cool.”

“This’ll learn you not to speak to the press ever again,” she said, shaking her head. “‘Dear Mr. Potter, I hope you like these socks, I knitted them myself, also thank you for saving us from Voldemort, love Doris Englow, 94’.”

“It never says that,” said Harry. She held up the note. “Oh, how sweet. Honestly though, the Prophet needs to stop claiming I did everything ‘single-handedly’, they’ve never given enough credit to—dear God, those are the most hideous socks I have ever seen.”

“Don’t be rude to Doris! She put a lot of time into them, and personally I think mustard, lime green and beetroot are lovely colour combinations,” Ginny said. “When did you even get interviewed, anyway?”

“Last Tuesday I was coming out of the canteen at work, and some reporter was lurking. They asked me what I wanted for my birthday, and for a moment I felt like channelling my inner Dumbledore. Don’t worry, I’ve learnt my lesson. Never again,” he said firmly.

“I wonder if he knew all he had to do was complain to the national press about not having any socks, and he’d be sorted for life,” mused Ginny. “Look, the Chuddley Cannons have sent you an entire box full of their entire range.”

“Ron’ll be delighted,” Harry said. “I’ll give them to him later, when we all meet up.”

“Great,” Ginny said. “And what about all the rest?”

“There’s got to be some charity somewhere who’ll accept a donation,” he said.

All of these?” Ginny said doubtfully. “What would anyone do with a thousand socks?”

Keep reading


author: @wydobrien

word count: 2,225

warnings: roughness, choking, dom!thomas, teasing, slight smut.

listen to me 

this is my first smut ever, so, i’m sorry if it sucks ass, lmao. this was mainly requested by @writing-obrien so bam, here’s some rough tommy for you. please tell me if you want me to continue this or keep it as is!

Folding the final rag neatly, you felt your eyes drift away from your work. This was the fifteenth time, the fifteenth time you had done this. You were just so distracted, so bored by your duties, because with the sight you had in front of you right now, there was nothing more you desired to do than to rip the rag to shreds and ditch your chores. You groaned, knowing that there was plenty more to do, feeling repugnant at the idea of doing the daily chores that would’ve otherwise been no hassle at all. But, you looked at him, you gawked at him, from afar, almost offended at how he knew he was doing this to you. He was nothing short of entirely aware of the things he was doing to you, the things he was making you think. Memories of last night flashed through your mind briefly as you lifted the browned water, the metallic scent of iron filling your nostrils distastefully.

“Give it to me.” He grunted through gritted teeth, his hands clasped bruisingly firm on the curve of your hips, his hips jerking forward at such inconceivable strength and speeds, pounding into you relentlessly. Thomas edged you closer to the edge, thrust by thrust, your legs going numb from the awkward positioning of the uneven ground, your fingers digging into the rough bark of the tree for leverage. “Fuck.” He spat from beneath his rough pants, concentration riddled all throughout his voice, hoarse and scratchy.

You arched your back into him, his palm coming down onto your left cheek as soon as you felt the skin of your backside touch the flexed, hard surface of his abdomen. “You like that, babygirl?” He probed, mirroring the same actions on your right cheek, much more rigidly than the first. “Yeah you do.” Thomas answered himself, his hand now resting onto one of your cheeks while the other trailed up your spinal cord, coaxing cascades of shivers to follow after it, his fingertips barely skimming over the hot skin as he did so.

You were so close, your heart skipping beats as it thumped heavily within your chest, leaving you short of breath and puffing out stiff breaths from your nose. “Oh God.” You heaved, your head suddenly being yanked backwards, some strands of hair being ripped from your head, a burning sensation buzzing on your scalp. The hand that had been traveling up your back had a fistful of your hair, allowing him to work rougher onto you and hold you still while he fucked you. You felt him suddenly shift; Thomas’s warm, repetitive pants of air hitting your ear and flowing down the side of your neck. “I don’t want you to ever forget the way I’m making you feel, right now. To never forget that you’re mine, no one else’s. If you do, I’m taking you right back here, and I’ll give you a reminder of who you belong to. Understand me?”

Too constrained by his rapid movements, he suddenly ceased all of them, simply gripping onto your hair and leaving his hand on your ass. “Do you,” He paused, going to land another blow atop your cheek, your skin stinging with all the tingling sensations from his hand as you felt the blood rush to the surface of the soft skin. “understand me?” His tone, authoritative and gruff, made you whimper out in response. “Say it.” Thomas demanded, his teeth leaving tiny nibbles across the open plane of your neck, already riddled in dark purple and red marks. You bit down on your lip, and he removed himself from you, only to slam right back in. You gasped. “I said, say it. I want to hear you say it.”

“I-I understand.” You breathed, and he bottomed out, immediately going back into his previous rhythm, till you felt yourself topple into your release, his following afterwards, hot shots of cum hitting along your backside and hips, both of you breathing heavily in unison.

A dark chuckle made you jump slightly as Thomas wiped off his mess from you with the bottom of his shirt, adjusting his grip back onto your hips as he kissed along the side of your neck, soothing over the biting love-bites and hickeys he adorned your tanned skin in. “Oh, babygirl, this is going to be fun.”

You were suddenly ripped from your thoughts as you felt your ankle bump into something hard, falling face-first into the patiently waiting hard surface of the grown below. “Shit.” You gasped, feeling the dirty water slosh onto your shirt some. A gag rested in the back of your throat, looking up as you noticed you have wondered off into the middle of the Glade, a yard away from your real destination. “I’m a fucking idiot.” You whispered your scold to yourself as you quickly jogged where you were supposed to be, ignoring the weird looks from the other nosey Gladers.

Letting out a small huff, you finished cleaning out the bucket of dried blood and dirt, running your freshly-dried hands through your messy hair. You had it tucked back into a ponytail, the humid air of the Med-Jack hut making your shirt feel like it was sticking to your skin. You plucked at the thin material, your chest rising and dropping quickly as you finally managed to peel it off you, revealing the noodle-strapped tanktop underneath, the straps of your black sports-bra much wider. You let out a sigh of relief, raising a hand to your forehead and tucking your shirt in your back-pocket and heading outside. The sun was merciless against your skin, making you feel grateful you had gotten yourself out of that torturous shirt. Everyone was busy with their own work, not paying you a wink of an eye, that is, until you passed them. Then, you could feel their eyes burning against your back, and you tensed, before spotting Thomas, still shirtless in all his glory, his muscles bulging as your eyes followed the vein that traveled from his forearm to the middle of his bicep.

Shaking your head, you sighed, finding yourself too occupied by the heat to pay any further attention to him. You didn’t look at him when you felt his attention become spiked to you, simply heading back to your own resting-quarters, quite a long-distance away from the rest of the Gladers. The reason? You’d rather not talk about it, nor think of it. The disgusting temptations some of these boys had was certainly ridiculous; you still slept with one eye open each night after it had happened, even if it had happened about a year ago, glad that Alby gave those assholes what they deserved.

Running your hands along the temples of your face, you let out another groan, your skin finally being able to breath as you stood in the shade. You still had to clean the showers, patch up some of the complaining Builders and talk to Newt about your tedious, ever-changing schedule. You see, you had been chosen to be a Runner after seven months in the Glade, which was very short. When you had asked Minho about it, he simply said that some creep had watched you on one of your morning runs and was impressed. Part of you thought it was to keep you away from the boys, but, you put trust in Minho’s word. Training was difficult, the real job was even worse. Your legs felt like rubber, pulsing and hot, but having no relief to the cool air of sundown, since you were so sore, you couldn’t even change clothes without wincing in pain. But you had gotten used to it, and the job shapened your body quite nicely. Assuredly you wouldn’t think your body was anything to drool over, but, after such hefty exercise from running daily, you grew a fresh layer of confidence of being free to show some skin since you were comfortable enough to.

Then, something terrible happened, and you never set foot in that blasted Maze ever again. George, your first friend in this Glade, dead. No, not because of the Grievers, or an accident in the Maze. But you.

It was because of you.

Shaking the thought off, you didn’t feel like dwelling within your gutter of self-blame, instead rolling up your jeans higher on your ankles and adjusting the straps of your sports-bra. You stood like this, relaxing and preparing yourself for the rest of the day. You turned around, and you saw him again, swinging down at the poor slices of wood as if it just insulted him. Your teeth found itself tugging on the bottom skin of your lip, gnawing and chewing, as Thomas suddenly met your eyes from his work, and you could see the surfacing smirk rising upon his lips. Everything was tensed on his sweaty body, his hair matted across his forehead, but still swept in a way that make the ends curl just a bit. His raven hair was sticking in awkward directions, wild and flat at the same time. Beads of sweat dripped between crevasses of his muscles, showing off his incredible form. He kept eye-contact with you, making a firm expression that said more than he was concentrated on cutting wood. Something in you told you that his mind was elsewhere, as so was yours, and that he wanted to rake his eyes down somewhere else on your body. You turned around, an idea popping up in your mind.

You bent over, pretending to have gotten something caught in your hammock, your tanktop rolling up on your back some as you rose one leg slightly off the ground, arching your back while you continued to search for the invisible item you had dropped. The pool of heat between your legs pulsing as you thought about the way he must be looking at you, about what he must be thinking about doing to you as you did so. He wanted to play games? He wanted to test you? Oh, he had no idea of what was coming to him. You hummed a chuckle, straightening as you brushed your hands on your tanktop, shrugging as you walked back into the Med-Jack hut, a sharp swing of your hips as you did so, allowing your hips to cut through the air to give him a nice view. You heard a faint growl, and your heart jumped at the sound.

You had grabbed a bucket of clean water, the same rag you had folded previously, and an extra hair-tie to wrap around your wrist, just in case your pesky hairs decided to come loose from your ponytail. About to head towards the showers, two rough hands on your hips stopped you, and you flailed until a familiar voice spoke. “What the fuck was that?” He questioned, digging his fingers into the parts of open skin where your shirt had rode up. You smiled.


Thomas leant over you, forcing you to bend over as he grabbed onto your ponytail, his other hand snaking to gently move over your neck, your breath quivering as he did so. He held a light grip, but the rough sensation of it left you buzzing. “You know what I’m talking about. What was that, hmm? Babygirl likes to play now, does she?” The petname he had grown so accustomed to using made you lick over your lips, a wet sound being made from the quick gesture, causing him to raise you to press you against his bare-front side, the back of your shirt dampening from his sweat. Any other day, this would’ve made you cringe, but, with the way he was handling you, it only made it hotter. “You know I don’t like being teased, sweetheart. You know what happens when you tease me.” A hand suddenly soothed over your bum, and you whimpered lightly, being fully knowledgeable. “Turn around and get on your knees.” Thomas growled, biting on that special spot behind your ear.

“I have to do work.” You spoke again, speaking against every roaring temptation inside you. His light grip on your neck tightened slightly, and you gripped onto the metal handle of the bucket.

“Yeah? I don’t care.” He retorted, turning you around and glaring down at you through his eyelashes, something dark and desiring residing in his honey-golden irises. “You think you can just get away with teasing me like that? Bending over like that, when you know I can bend you over that counter over there right now and fuck you till you can’t walk straight?” Rushes of electricity zapped to all corners of your body, but, you only smirked right at him and pulled from his strong hold, patting him gently on the head. You didn’t even take knowledge of the sight of him shirtless up-close, which took the most effort not to do.

You only chuckled, though with the look he was giving you, made you drop the small laugh real quick. “Sorry Tommy. Next time, okay?” He wanted to play this game, he better come up with better moves than that. Because you had a lot up your sleeve. But something about that lustful look in his eyes said that he had just the same. You walked out of that hut with the same alluring stride as before, knowing where his eyes were. Oh, he was so in for it.

You couldn’t wait to show him just how teasing you could be.

What? It’s not like you started it.

You could say things became heated.

Hello, Love bugs! 

George X Reader 

Warnings- smut, swears. 

Kinky smut with George? Sorry- JE (Why are you sorry?? If anything I should apologise for the sins I write.)

You were staying over at the burrow for the week break. The home happens to be very full with the golden trio, yourself, and charlie. You had been put into Ginny’s room along with Hermione so it happens to be the tight squeeze for the three of you.You could hear your new roommate breathing lightly as they seemed to be able to fall asleep easily. You, on the other hand, seemed to be in a different situation. Damn George had started staying the night in your bed since the beginning of the school year and you had become so used to it that you couldn’t sleep without his body heat beside you. Just as you were considering how to sneak out you saw the door crack open to see a familiar face poke in. He smiled as he caught your eyes after searching the room for you. Lifting the covers slowly you spun your legs to the side of the bed to tip toe your way to the opened door. 

Once you made your way out the door George’s hands were around your waist lifting you up and kissing your cheeks like it had been months since seeing each other and not hours. 

Keep reading

call no man happy - 2

Mo Guan Shan watched as the parchment rolled up like a scroll and vanished . No shit - vanished. He must have had a stupid look on his face because the other man laughed.

“Alright, what now?”

Mo Guan Shan raised his eyebrows, puzzled.

“I have to go to work.”

“Oh, that’s right. You work at a bank or something.”



“Right. I have to go. So…”

He Tian grabbed a backpack Mo Guan Shan hadn’t noticed before from the ground next to the couch and swung it over his shoulder.

“Let’s go, then.”

“Do you want me to drop you off somewhere? I guess you could stay here…”

The man laughed again and said, “I’m coming with you.”

“Coming with me… to my job?”

“No, we’re going to fuckin’ Disney World. Yes, to your job.”

“I don’t think I can just take you with me.”

“Sure you can. What are they going to do, kick me out of the bank?”


“What. Ever.”

“Seriously, it’s not ‘bring your crazy person to work’ day, I can’t take you with me.”

He Tian sighed.

“Calm down, George McFly, I’m going to be working there as an intern. You get to teach me all about the glamorous world of whatever it is that you do.”

“I work in a fucking library!”

“Wow, hostile.”

Mo Guan Shan checked the time.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

“Lead the way, bossman.”


Mo Guan Shan fumbled with his keys pressing the unlock button halfway through the parking lot. The car chirped and lights flashed. He Tian groaned but Mo Guan Shan held up a hand to quiet him.

“Do you have a car?”


“Then don’t even fucking start.”

“At least let me drive.”

“Why… would I ever do that?”

“Because-” He held his hand out for the keys, “-if you drive, we’re going to be late and I want to make a good impression on my first day. Don’t you trust me?”


“Why the hell not?”

“Because I’ve known you for less than an hour and you’re clearly insane.”

“And yet…”


And yet, here he was.

Because he’d apparently lost his fucking mind, he handed over the keys.

“Alright, asshole, get us there in seven minutes and i’ll buy you lunch.”

“Make it a drink and we’ve got a deal.”

“Six minutes.”

Sans seatbelt, He Tian threw the car into reverse and stomped the accelerator, burning rubber - read: fucking up his tires- out of the spot. He cranked the wheel to the right, shifting to drive and peeling out of the lot.

Mo Guan Shan started to give him directions, but the man shushed him.

“I know this city better than you.”

Weaving in and out of morning traffic, getting them a fair amount of honks and verbal abuse, He Tian reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a phone with a sparkly pink case.

“You have a phone.” Mo Guan Shan stated, stupidly.

He Tian cocked an eyebrow, turning to look at him and nearly side swiping a Prius.


“They have phones… where you’re from?”

“Hell? Of course, who do you think invented roaming charges and limited data plans?”

Mo Guan Shan gaped at him and He Tian rolled his eyes theatrically.

“For fuck’s sake, I’m kidding. You really need to get the stick out of your ass or you’re really going to hate me.”

“I kind of already hate you.”

“See, that’s the stick talking.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Not quite.”


Five minutes later they pulled into the library’s parking lot.

“Told ya we’d make it.”

“Yeah, and we almost died like ten times.”

“Key word- almost.”

They got out of the car and He Tian tossed his keys back. Closing in on the building, Mo Guan Shan found himself getting nervous.

“So, you said you’re going to be interning here?” He asked, holding the door open for He Tian and following him through it.

“That’s the plan. On your recommendation, no less.”

“Whoa, what?”

“Yeah, they think we’re friends or something.”

“No one is ever going to believe that.”

“I’m just telling you what my caseworker told me.”

“And who’s your caseworker?”

He Tian chuckled.

“Why? You gonna call and complain?”

They stopped in front of the door to the library and Mo Guan Shan turned to look at him.

“Any way I can trust you act like a decent person here? I don’t need to get fired today.”

“I’m not a person.”


“I’m on my best behavior.”

“That doesn’t comfort me.”

He Tian shrugged, smirking, and pulled the door open. Mo Guan Shan grabbed his badge from behind the counter and clocked in. Right on time.

Being summer, the place was all but deserted. He Tian followed Mo Guan Shan to the small breakroom, looking around at the not entirely unimpressive stacks as they went.

It wasn’t so much a break room as it was a corner of the room mostly blocked off with a table and some chairs. Very fancy.

Jian Yi looked up from his phone when he heard them, ready to say something, but froze when he saw He Tian. Yeah, Mo Guan Shan wanted to say, try waking up to him on your couch.

Jian Yi recovered quickly, standing up and extending his arm for a handshake.

“You must be the new intern. He Tian, right?”


“Cool, well I didn’t knew you were coming until this morning so I have nothing for you to do. Just follow Mo Guan Shan around and shelve books, I guess. ”

The phone rang and Jian Yi promptly sat back down, motioning for Mo Guan Shan to go answer it. He turned to He Tian, but he’d wandered away to paw through the books to shelve. Jian Yi looked pointedly at He Tian and back, raising his eyebrows questioningly at Mo Guan Shan. Unsure of what silent gesture could use to explain the situation, turned and walked off.


After about a minute, Jian Yi said, “So, you’re Mo Guan Shan’s friend?”


“He hasn’t told me about you.”

“Funny, he hasn’t told me about you either.”

Jian Yi looked slightly put out by that, but continued.

“When did you two meet?”

“A few days ago.”


“A bar downtown.”

“…You met Mo Guan Shan at a bar?”

“Sure did. We hit it off right away.”

Jian Yi looked skeptical.

“I have a hard time believing that.”


“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, you’re just not exactly his type.”

“Because I’m so far out of his league?”

“Because you’re a dude.”

“That’s never stopped me before.”

“You also seem like kind of a dick.”

“I grow on people. Like a fungus, or a parasite.”

“What’s this about parasites?” Mo Guan Shan .asked, coming around the corner.

“He Tian was just telling me how you two met.” Jian Yi explained.

Mo Guan Shan turned on He Tian. He’s not THAT crazy, right?


“It’s ok,” Jian Yi assured him, “I’m not entirely surprised.”

Again, “What?!”

Taking pity on him, He Tian said “I was telling him about the bar the other night.”

Mo Guan Shan glared at him like maybe if he does it hard enough he’ll evaporate.

“Yeah. That.”

“What did you think I meant?” Jian Yi asked, puzzled.

He Tian winked at him and Jian Yi laughed. Fucking spectacular.

“If you two are done gossiping…”

Jian Yi rolled his eyes, patting his pockets and picking his phone up off the table.

“Fine. Be boring. I’m going to go get some lunch, you guys want pizza?”

They decided on cheese because Jian Yi is picky and He Tian wanted mushrooms which is a punishable offense in and of itself. They watched him leave and Mo Guan Shan looked through the cart of books, deciding where to start.

He pulled his headphones from his pocket and began to untangle them. After half a minute of struggling, He Tian snatched them away, straightening them out in five fucking seconds and handing them back. Mo Guan Shan raised his eyebrows, more impressed by that than anything of the other weird things he’d done so far.

He plugged them into his phone, putting one in picking some music. He Tian followed him while he returned the books to their shelves, but made no attempt to help.

“Your friend seems nice.”

“Jian Yi? Yeah, he’s cool. I’ve known him and his boyfriend since we were kids. Fuck you very much for that, by the way.”

“For what?”

“What do you mean for what? For telling him we met in a fucking bar. He’s already jumped to conclusions here.”

“And what conclusion is that?”

“That we… you know.”

“Fucked?” He Tian asked. Mo Guan Shan felt himself flush, glad he was facing away.


“Oh, God forbid.”

“Are you gay?” Mo Guan Shan asked before he could stop himself, knowing that was incredibly rude. He Tian was quiet for long enough, Mo Guan Shan wondered if he’d heard him.

“I like pretty, fun, people. I couldn’t care less what body parts they do or don’t have.”

Mo Guan Shan nodded, liking the simplicity of that, but unsure of that to say. Thankfully, they lapsed into silence. A few minutes later, Mo Guan Shan was reaching for a shelf just an inch out of his reach. Annoyed, he looked around for the step stool, but He Tian took the book from him.

“Here?” he asked. Mo Guan Shan nodded, thanking him. They made it to the religion section, He Tian staring as his phone, Mo Guan Shan froze, spinning around suddenly.



“That’s the tattoo on your neck. Metatron’s cube.”

He Tian smiled, eyebrows raised. He pulled the collar of his shirt down an inch, revealing the top of a circle with a symbol he couldn’t make out.

“Good eye. I have all the archangels seals as well.” He said, drawing a line from his throat to his pelvis.

“That… is actually pretty awesome.”

“I can show you later, if you want.” He Tian said, looking slightly smug.

“Yeah, sure.”

Mo Guan Shan turned back to the books and He Tian to his phone.

“Why do you know about that?”

“Theology has always been an interest of mine. I know that probably sounds ridiculous to you.”

“You think that sounds ridiculous to me? Of all people?”

“I thought you weren’t a person.”

“Fuck you.”


Jian Yi eventually made it back with the pizza and they ate quickly.

“We should go out for drinks after work.” Jian Yi suggested. “I want you to mean Zhan Zhengxi.”

“Jian Yi-” Mo Guan Shan started.

“Sounds good to me,” He Tian said, cutting him off. “He owes me a drink for getting us here on time.”

Jian Yi smiled, pulling his phone from his pocket, probably to text Zhan Zhengxi.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” Mo Guan Shan asked.

“I really am.”

1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5

Fancasts :)


James Potter- Aaron Taylor Johnson

Ive always gone along with the crowd with this one ATJ is THE perfect James no doubt about it like look at him 

Sirius Black- Ben Barnes

Again another crowd pleaser but seriously (lol) look at him he is the physical  embodiment of Sirius.. the smirk the hair everything hes perfect 

Remus Lupin- Andrew Garfield 

This is undisputed for me because Andrew has that nerdish vibe, yet still gives off the essences of a laid back, chill guy and idk that is Remus for me

Severus Snape- Louis Garrel 

This was hard cause Louis Garrel is so hot and I hate Snape so much but he has the features and the hair and it just works and i hate it 

Peter Pettigrew- Jamie Bell

Again another hatred for a character but love for an actor.. Jamie Bell afain just works his got smaller pointier features like Peter would have but like i still hate pettigrew 

Lily Evans- Karen Gillian 

Karen has always been Lily for me because she gives of the hot headed nerdish girl and there are some edits out there of her and ATJ that have driven me to tears with how perfect it is so yes she is Lily

Regulus Black- Dane DeHaan 

Dane is one of my favorite actors and Regulus is one of my favorite characters even though he isnt mentioned much until the end hes a fallen hero of sorts and Dane portrays the cool yet serious and loyal guy that Regulus would be.. hed be the fallen hero and i love it

Marlene Mckinnon- Natalie Dormer 

NATALIE DORMER IS MY FAVORITE ACTRESS OF ALL TIME AND SHES SO HOT IM SO IN LOVE WITH HER……. anyway… Marlene had to have been like the most attractive badass human being to get Sirius Black to fall n love with her and Natalie is the definition of hot and badass like that smirk and those eyes and my god i love her 

Next Generation: 

Teddy Lupin- Hunter Parrish 

I had Luke Newberry before but i was scrolling through some things and Hunter Parrish just like was perfect like it all just clicked.. Teddy i feel would just be adorable yet so hot that all the girls would fawn over him yet hed be so blind to how attractive he really is

James Sirius Potter- Robbie Sheehan

Ive seen so many people fancasted as James Sirius and the only one whose ever stuck with me is Robbie… Robbie is sarcastic and gives off a snarky “i dont give a fuck” attitude and that is James.. His smile is what sold me tho.. its a smile that just hints at charming and troublemaking and i love it

Albus Rubeus Potter- Logan Lerman 

I fought myself for so long putting Logan here but he really is perfect.. i saw an edit somewhere that had ATJ, Dan Radcliffe, and him all next to each other and it just worked so well that i couldnt refuse 

Lily Luna Potter- Jane Levy

Jane Levy fits the bill for me because she has Harry’s eyes and Ginny hairs so its a perfect combo in my eyes and i love it she has the attitude of someone whose has to deal with James Sirius and Albus for brothers too so lol

Hugo Weasley- PJ Ligouri

PJ is just so cute and adorable and sweet and i think Hugo would be the exact same like for this its more personality than face but i feel PJ also has a ron like build being tall and lanky and his eyes with Hermiones hair and sharp features ugh i love it 

Rose Weasley- Sophie Turner

SOPHIE IS BAE AH she has Rons hair obviously and his eyes.. again this is more personality cause i picture Rose as fiery and adventurous and snarky and bubbly and that is what Sophie is 

Scorpius Malfoy- Bertie Gilbert

This is a bit obvious but like Bertie is so sweet yet so hot and also i thought hed look good with Sophie (oops im scorose trash) 

Victoire Weasley- Elizabeth Olsen 

I typed in Victoire Weasley Actress in google cause i wanted to see and get ideas and i scrolled fown really far till i saw Lizzie and i was like YASSS shes just perfect shes so gorgeous and gives off a veela vibe but she also has a little werewolf in her so shes tough and idk i think its perfect plus her and hunter would be SO CUTE 

Dominique Weasley- Britt Robertson

I always felt Dominique would be a lot like Bill personality wise, yet look more like Fleur with her hair and her softer features and i love it ah

Louis Weasley- Daniel Sharman 

Hes just so hot and such a charmer with i feel a shyer side and that it Louis to me 

Molly Weasley- Chloe Grace Moretz

Clhoe just has softer features and is so adorable and I feel like Percy’s kids would be precious and so sweet and thats just what Chloe gives off

Lucy Weasley- Georgie Henley 

This is the same as Chloe like Georgie looks so kind and sweet and i love it 

Fred Weasley II- Jacob Artist 

Seeing as Fred is half black half white, i wanted someone who could definitely embody both and Jacob just fit that.. he has a mix of sharper features and softer features which i think works for George and Angelina 

Roxanne Weasley- Zoe Kravitz 

Zoe is just such a badass and so punk rock and hard and i always thought Roxanne would be the same.. she gives off a punky vibe to me and i love this 

Lorcan and Lysander Scamander- Jack and Finn Harries 

i think Jack and Finn are the perfect combo of crazy and weird and off in their own world and yet still quite hot and i mean Luna’s kids had to be stunning so 

Id like some feedback guys i love all these people theyre all so attractive and idk they all work in my opinion

btw none of the gifs are mine :)


Characters: Tom Holland, Y/N


Going to the movies by yourself is eye opening to all the annoying people that go there. You get the couples who can’t keep their hands to themselves, the annoying old couple who fight over small or large popcorn, and the little kids that run rapid around because their parents don’t care.

You  usually don’t notice because you’re always laughing with friends or looking at your phone but I guess that’s another type of person: the stupid millennial that wont stop using their phone long enough to actually watch the movie.

You didn’t care really, you knew that you weren’t addicted to it as much as other kids are. You only really used it for talking to your family via messages and Facebook. Social media wasn’t really important to you.

The popcorn was almost empty and the movie hadn’t even started yet. You frowned at yourself for eating so much in so little time but the movie trailers were so interesting that you just devoured it.

You took your seat far back and high up. Being too close was neck straining and being too low was just plain annoying. You had a row behind you, saving those seats for the couples who come here to make out. How thoughtful of you.

The movie playing was Spider-man Homecoming. A relative recommended it to you since she thought you liked Superhero movies. What she didn’t know was that you liked DC Comics, not Marvel.

Marvel is okay but you preferred DC Comics for some reason. But, Spider-man had seemed interesting enough so here you are, alone.

The movie began with Marvel’s usual intro. You saw some last minuet seat adjusting below and began to get ready for two hours of what you hoped was a good movie. Someone had come up the steps and sat behind you, which you thought was odd considering there are so many seats below you that are perfectly fine.

You looked behind you to see what you thought was a familiar face. You made a visible confused face at him, not really trying to make it visible to add, he half smiled at you. He was wearing a white hoodie with a green flannel over the top of it and a white snap back. Odd.

You turned back around before he could say anything and started watching the movie. You were really half paying attention in the beginning, focusing more on how quickly your popcorn was becoming less and less full.

You pop a few in your mouth, looking up at the screen to see Peter Parker. You furrow your eyebrows and turn around to see the boy in the odd outfit. You realize that’s why he looked familiar, he was the actor who played Peter Parker! You couldn’t remember his name for the life of you though.

He looked down at you with sympathetic eyes and another half smile. “Don’t say anything, please.”

You nodded to him and chuckled a bit, looking back to his movie.

All in all, it was a good movie. You can’t say you were sold to Marvel but you defiantly liked it. The credits were rolling after the end scene and people were starting to leave. You ran out of popcorn within the first twenty minuets and ran out of water in the next ten.

You stared digging through your purse to find your keys. It was dark outside so it was better to do it here than somewhere where you couldn’t see. “C'mon you little shits, where are you?” You said to yourself. Finally, you find them all the way at the bottom of the bag. You shake your head, pulling them out and standing up to leave.

You were met with soft brown eyes. “Hi.” He uttered to you.


It was quiet for a short bit. You couldn’t say you were star struck, you didn’t even know his name. But the fact that a celebrity was talking to you was a bit shocking.

Silence was over coming both of you as more and more people left. The credits still rolled and more of his face became visible with the lights becoming brighter.

“So, uh. Good movie, I guess.” You broke a smile. Which made him smile too.

“Thank you.”

Silence filled the air again. Why was he talking to you? Well, starring at you. This guy really isn’t good with talking to girls. You started to nod your head slowly and formed a line with your lips. He quickly collected his thoughts and spoke.

“Listen, thanks for not-not telling people I was here.”

“Not a problem,” You answered. “Even if I wanted to, I don’t think it would have worked. I don’t even know your name.” You blurted, realizing after that that was probably a rude thing to say.

“Oh jeez- That was rude I’m-”

“No, no it’s okay!” He laughed at your awkwardness. “I’m Tom.” Tom spoke trying to even his voice out



“You don’t look like a Tom.”

“What do I look like then?”

“I don’t know, maybe…George?”

“George?” Tom questioned, looking shocked. Both of you laughed a little bit and it went silent again.

Not an awkward silent though, more like enjoying each others company kind of silent. You both were still smiling at the previous conversation. The silence was nice, the music from the credits was finishing and you would soon be booted out of the cinema, everyone else was already gone except for a few stranglers like yourself and Tom.

You could see he was trying to form a sentence in his head. His lips were forming a line and his eyes were darting around every where except for you. It was almost cute, a celebrity nervous to talk to a small town girl. You smiled at him, trying to ease whatever he was about to ask you.

“I know we just met and everything and we don’t really, um, know each other. Well, I mean you know my name. I don’t even know yours. But that’s not really knowing someone, I ju-”

“Tom.” You interrupted him, bringing him back to the main point of his sentence.

“I’d like to get-get to know you more,” Tom put his arms behind his back and rocked back and forth subtly. “Would you maybe wanna get coffee sometime? Or if you don’t drink coffee we could d-”

“I love coffee, and I like that idea.” Interrupting him again. Tom beamed a bright smile.

“Is now okay? I kinda don’t want this night to end just yet..” He trailed off a bit.

“Let’s go then.” You threw your purse on your shoulder and smiled at him.

Request: hey are you taking requests atm?? if so do you think I could have a collins imagine where you’re a nurse in the water from a gone down ship who happened to be where his plane landed and you try and help him get out of the cockpit and then he and you get pulled onto the dawsons boat??? flirty/fluffy sort of thing?? thanks so much !!

A/N: contains spoilers for Dunkirk


You had been floating in the waters for nearly an hour now. The destroyer you had been on was torpedoed and there hadn’t been anywhere for you to go.

Some of the men had decided to try and swim home. You knew it was useless, home was over 20 miles away. Their heavy uniforms and exhaustion would weigh them down long before they would even see land.

So instead of trying to swim somewhere, you saved your energy and allowed your body to float. You were praying that another boat would come by soon.

What you weren’t planning on was having a spitfire get shot down right over top of you.

Jumping into action, you quickly swam out of the way. Moments later the plane had crashed right behind you.

You then heard another sound, the sound of a boat crashing against the waves. Spinning around in the water, you waved down a civilian sail boat.

Swimming once again, you made your way towards the plane. You noticed the pilot was banging against the window, having a hard time getting it unstuck.

You moved faster, panting as you swam your way to the struggling pilot. Once there, you pulled a knife out of your pocket.

Growing up with 4 brothers and a father that hunted, you learned early on to always carry a knife with you. For once you were glad for that lesson.

Gesturing for the pilot to move to the side, you smashed the knife against the window. It instantly shattered, allowing you to help the pilot out moments before the plane was submerged.

“Are you ok?” You asked, helping him swim towards the boat. He merely nodded, focusing on catching his breath.

Once you got to the boat, you helped the young civilian get the pilot into the boat. You climbed in after, slumping against the side of the boat.

“Thank you so much.” You spoke to the civilian, sending him a grateful smile.

“How long were you out there for?” Another civilian asked, an older gentleman who was obviously the captain of the boat. You noticed another man in the opposite corner of the boat, an obvious soldier.

“I think the destroyer went down an hour or so ago. The others decided to swim back. It was too far though, I don’t think any of them will make it.” You explained, a frown forming on your face.

“Are you a nurse?” The young man asked, noticing your outfit for the first time. “My friend got hurt earlier. Do you think maybe you can take a look at him?”

“Absolutely. Lead the way.” You responded, getting to your feet. “What’s his name?”

“His name is George. My names Peter Dawson by the way, and my dad’s the captain.” He explained leading you downstairs.

“I’m Y/N. Thanks again for bringing us on board.” You replied, stepping down into the room. You instantly saw the boy resting in the corner, making your way to him.

You noticed there was a hastily wrapped bandage around the boys head, obviously the boys work.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” You asked, unwrapping the bandage so you could get a look at the wound. Turning the sleeping form to the side, you noticed the wound was over the occipital lobe.

Peter handed you a first aid kit, allowing you to clean the wound and wrap it. You propped George on his side, keeping weight off the wound.

“He’s going to have some trouble with his vision, but the fact he’s alive is good. If it was serious he wouldn’t have made it this long. He should see a doctor within a day though, make sure there isn’t something else going on.” You told Peter, throwing away the old bandage.

“Thank you.” Peter sighed in relief, a smile on his face. He lead you back upstairs, where the pilot and captain were talking.

“Is he going to be ok?” The quiet soldier spoke up, causing everyone’s attention to turn to you and Peter.

“Y/N says he should be fine, just might have some problems with his vision.” Peter spoke, glancing at you for confirmation. You nodded, a smile on your face.

Mr. Dawson seemed relieved at this news, thanking you profusely. You just shook it off, saying it was nothing.

“Y/N?” A Scottish accent spoke, the pilot being the source of it. You turned to him, gesturing for him to continue. “Can I talk to ye fer a moment?”

“Sure.” You nodded, following him back below deck. He sat down on the bench in the corner, gesturing for you to do the same.

“Ye saved me life out there.” He told you, angling his body so he was facing you. “Thank ye.”

“Well I wasn’t just going to leave you there.” You teased, brushing off his gratitude with a shrug. He didn’t need to thank you.

“Still, I probably wouldn’ have gotten out o’ it weren’ fer ye.” He persisted, leaning his elbows on his knees as he bent closer towards you. “Isn’ there anyway I can thank ye?” He murmured, face dangerously close to yours.

“I-uh, nothing that I can think of.” You breathed out, voice faint. His eyes were staring intensely into yours, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms.

“Nothin’?” He whispered, eyes flickering briefly to your lips before locking back on your eyes. “I can’ buy ye a drink? Or take ye out to dinner?”

“I wouldn’t say no to dinner.” You replied, a slight blush forming on your cheeks.

“Perfect, it’s a date.” He stated cheekily, bending down to kiss your cheek. “We should probably head back upstairs. The others migh’ think we’re doin’ somethin’ we shouldn’ down here.”

“You wish.” You said, standing up and walking towards the stairs so he wouldn’t see your red cheeks.

“Believe me darlin’, I definitely do.”

marry me - prologue

pt 1| begging you | 2.1K

pt 2 | can’t sleep | 3.3K

pt 3 | marigold | 3.3K

TAG LIST: @dontwearitoutt@whyarentyoulaughingj@barbaraqueen77@siriusement@fainting-fancy@haipiranha @notstandingstill-imlyinginwait

prologue | the past | 4.5 K

On Fred’s eight day ever of being a Hogwarts student, he already had detention with George. Neither of them took it very seriously, they were giggling through polishing trophies into the night and making jokes when they don’t think Filch will hear them. This was all too much fun. 

When they got out their stomachs were rumbling, a loud sort of noise that echoed down the hall as they walked towards the dormitory. “Do you think we can get some food?” Fred wondered out loud, there had to be some kitchens somewhere, but he didn’t know where in the hell they would be. 

George was about to respond when they saw you, another first year stroll out from another hallway in front of them. “Were you two asking where the kitchens were?” 

The three stared at each other. Fred and George remembered you from their second potions class days ago where you’d panicked during their first time making potions when your cauldron had started to leak and had accidentally knocked over your table and the one behind you in your haste to get away. Which was why you had just gotten out of detention with Snape.

You remembered them because rumor had it that they’d managed to fill Filch’s office with dungbombs. A rumor you believed seeing as you had passed it just a few moments ago and it still smelled god awful. 

Fred spoke first, a cocky smile on his lips, “Aren’t you the girl who knocked over all the cauldrons during potions?” 

“You still smell like dungbombs, you know.” when the redhead looked properly abashed you smiled a bit. Looking between him and the other twin, you didn’t want to come off as too mean. You extended your hands to shake theirs. “My name’s Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” 

The twin that hadn’t spoken yet shook your hand first, “I’m George. He’s Fred. Do you know how to get to the kitchens?” 

You shook Fred’s hand and continued to look towards George– who’s handshake was a bit more gentle than his brother’s. “I do! It’s near the Hufflepuff dormitory. You’ve just got to tickle the pear in a painting.” 

Fred’s eyebrow quirked upwards, “Tickle the what now?” 

Keep reading

Fireplace Heartache: Part Two - Fred Weasley x Reader

GUESS WHAT I HAVE??? Part two that all of you have been asking for! Sorry if it’s shit, I wanted to get it written before I had to go for the night. Let me know what you think! I hope it turned out well. Enjoy! -Emma.xx

WARNING: cheesy fluff to make up for last part’s angst

A year and a half had passed since Y/N graduated from Hogwarts. Times were much graver now, the Dark Lord threatening to return on the waves of a second Wizarding War. With each passing day, wizards and witches across the country were becoming increasing more unsettled, Y/N not excluded.

Sitting in the living room of her small apartment in the middle of London, Y/N felt trapped, unable to do anything more than tremble with fear through the night, praying that tomorrow wouldn’t be the day that she might die. She needed to get out of here, she needed to do something to occupy her thoughts.

This new fear was opening her heart to an old, familiar ache that she had buried down long ago, back at the end of her seventh year at Hogwarts. Her heart had been recklessly put back together with tape and glue, and Y/N knew it couldn’t withstand reliving that pain.

Standing from the couch, she grabbed a sweater and her bag, deciding to visit Diagon Alley. Knowing that this wasn’t the best choice - dangerous, even - she headed out anyways, her mind set. She would stop at the second hand bookshop to see if they had any she was missing from her collections, yes that’s what she would do.

It didn’t take her very long to get to the Leaky Cauldron, her flat only a short distance away. Gripping her wand tightly in her hand, she wanted to make sure she was ready if anyone tried to come after here. Even though it was midday, clouds hung heavy over the city, drapping everything in shadows.

Once she made it through the practically deserted pub, Y/N breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a small crowd of people in the alley. So I won’t be by myself, she thought with ease, making her way towards the bookshop. But the further she walked into the alley, the more people she saw concentrated around a certain shop in particular. She couldn’t see the sign so she stood on her tiptoes, trying to see over the heads of the people in front of her.

“Merlin’s beard,” she muttered to herself when she saw the front of the shop. A very large rendition of a pair of twins she used to know what constructed outside of the shop, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes etched across the front. “They actually did it.”

“That git, I told him to go ahead and open the shop,” a familiar voice said behind her, causing her to immediately tense. She never imagined she hear his voice again; she felt the first crack in her heart. “ ‘scuse me, love.”

Y/N felt a hand being placed gently on her waist, someone trying to step around her in the growing crowd. It’s him, it’s him, it’s him, repeated over and over in her mind, rendering her completely immobile. She only held onto her wand tighter, praying he wouldn’t turn to look at the girl who wouldn’t move out of his way.

No one heard her. The tall ginger briefly turned to look over his shoulder as he passed, not recognizing her at first but when he did, his eyes went wide with realization. He bumped into the person in front of him, the bag he was holding in his hand spilling its contents to the ground.

Y/N, is that you?”

Intent on not making eye contact, she intently stared at the ground, bending down to pick up the things that had fallen out of his bag. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him bend down as well, narrowly missing a swing from the man he had accidentally walked into. Hastily trying to gather everything up to give back to him, she tried to ignore him so she could make a quick getaway. She knew she shouldn’t have left the house today.

“Y/N,” her ex, Fred Weasley, repeated, reaching a hand out to grab one of hers. His fingertips barely brushed across the back of her hand, but she still pulled it away like he had burned her. Y/N felt the second crack in her heart.

“Won’t you look at me?” he said softly, and she could hear the anguish in his voice. He knows my suffering.

“I’m sorry, but I really must get going,” she quickly mumbled, handing his things back to him and trying to turn to sprint back out of the alley.

Fred was too quick; his hand caught her upper arm, pulling her back to him. She could feel the tears collecting in the corners of her eyes, and she really didn’t want him to see her like this. Who knows, he could be with someone, someone who would treat him better than she ever could’ve. She didn’t want to know that she still hurt.

“Y/N, look at me,” he said more firmly, grabbing ahold of her chin and turning her face up to his. “I need you to look at me.”

Unable to keep herself from looking away any longer, her tear filled gaze slowly turned up to meet his, surprised to find his cheeks wet. Surely, he wasn’t upset after all this time? He was the one who left her. But you were the one who said if he left, they were finished.

Their stares locked, and she immediately wanted to slip back into her old habits, wishing to get lost in his eyes and stay there forever. His hand was still on her arm, but now his other placed itself on her waist. That seemed to jolt her out of her reprieve, trying to pull away from him.

“Fred, no,” she said weakly, attempting to separate herself from him. I have to get away from here.

Keeping a tight grip on her, Fred backed her into a side alley, pushing her against the wall so she couldn’t get away. “Don’t do this, don’t do this to me. Not after this long.”

His words brought back the night before he had left her, echoing through her mind like long forgotten song being played on repeat. She wished she could apparate back to her apartment, but he still had ahold of her. If she went, she’d be taking him with her.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N, so much-”

“Fred, don’t.”

“-There hasn’t been a day that I haven’t thought of you. That I haven’t regretted leaving you, leaving the most important thing to me,” Fred said breathlessly, like he’d been waiting his whole life to say these words.

“Don’t regret your success because of me, Fred,” she said, reaching up to brush way some of his tears without thinking twice about it.

Grabbing her hand, Fred brought it against his chest, pressing it against him so she could feel his heart beating underneath her touch. It was thundering beneath her fingertips; she could feel the heat radiating off of him. The smell of him, of candy and something metallic - probably from working on experiments - filled her nose.

“That shop means nothing to me. The only thing I’ve cared about for the past year and a half has been you. You’re the only thing that’s been on my mind. George’s getting pretty tired of it now, to be honest,” he said, chuckling wearily. “Y/N, I was so stupid to have left you. I should’ve stayed, and I’m sorry that I didn’t. I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me, but I lost the love of my life the day I left Hogwarts.”

“You needed out, Fred. I understand that. You can’t keep blaming yourself,” Y/N said softly, bringing her free hand back up to cup his cheek. “I’m the one who gave the ultimatum. That wasn’t fair of me.”

“I still shouldn’t have left. Or I at least should’ve told you sooner, not bring it up the night before George and I were planning to leave,” he said, leaning into her touch. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/N.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she whispered back, the tears finally spilling over her eyelids and down her cheeks in streams.

Pulling away from Y/N, Fred fumbled through the pockets of his jacket, seemingly in search of something. “I know I have one in here somewhere… Ah! There it is!” Pulling out a small plastic package, he quickly unwrapped it, dropping to one knee in front of her.


Holding the object towards her, Y/N saw that it was a candy ring pop. “Y/N L/N,” Fred began, grabbing one of her hands, “I couldn’t live with myself if I lost you for a second time. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, trying to make up for this past year and a half that we weren’t together. Please tell me that there’s no one else; you’ve always been the only one for me. I love you, Y/N, I still do. Will you marry me?”

Y/N couldn’t believe what was happening. When she left her apartment, she never would’ve imagined seeing Fred again for the first time in almost two years, never imagined him proposing to her. Crying harder, all she could do was nod her head. Of course she’d marry him, of course she would.

Sliding the ridiculous candy ring up her finger, Fred stood, taking her into his arms and placing a chaste kiss against her lips. He kissed her eagerly, hungrily, and she returned it with the same fervor. It had been far too long.

Pulling away from him slightly, she mumbled against his lips, “It’s always been you, Fred. You’re the only one I’ll ever love.”

wrapped-in-parma-harry  asked:

hello :) i've just found your blog and i've been catching up on the apocalypse au so far and its very very good, although im getting hecka angst. But anyways, could you do an au where Jumin and MC meet during a vacation and catch themselves falling for each other and just can't bring themselves to say goodbye when its over? xx

Awe thank you, that’s so sweet to hear!!! ZombieApocalypse!AU was actually probably the favorite one I’ve done and I’m incredibly excited to do another one eventually, in fact, I’ll probably set up a poll or something of the sort. 

As for the request, it sounds precious and I’d love to do it! Thank you so much and have a spectacular day!  (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b

I got carried away this request was so fun


“What’re you heading to Athens for?” You asked, tipping your head curiously in your seat on the airplane, looking at the person beside you.

“Pardon?” He turned his head to look to you, confused at your sudden voice. “Have we met?” 

“Oh-well no,” You laughed weakly, suddenly embarrassed. “I um-just thought the flight would be a bit better if it wasn’t spent in total silence.” 

“I suppose we ought to not be strangers then?” He reached out a hand for you to shake, a peculiar dullness in his gaze. “I’m Jumin Han.” 

You nodded returning the gesture. “MC, so if you don’t mind me asking again, what’re heading to Athens for?” 

He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat, his tone lowering a bit more comfortably. “’Vacation’ I think is the name for it. Wasn’t exactly my choice but my father insisted I take a break.” 

“Your father?”

“Yes, we work together.” 

You withheld a bit of a bit of laughter. “I hear that’s always fun,” You raised a curious brow. “What do you work in?”

“Business, I’m heir to the C & R company.”

You somehow nearly managed to choke on air. “You-what?” 


“Well-it’s just…I don’t typically meet millionaires every day but-” You scoffed. “first time for everything I guess.” 

He chuckled just a bit. “What do you do then?” 

“Oh jeez- nothing impressive, just an average sort of thing.” 

“You shouldn’t be ashamed or anything,” He remarked. “Without average jobs, the economy would crumble to absolutely nothing.” 

“With how some people treat us you wouldn’t think so.” You huffed, sinking back in the cushions. “But you know-just how it is.” 

“It’s a shame really,” He mentioned. “It’s not much but I do think your work is very meaningful.” 

“That’s very sweet,” You replied. “Good to know there are a few nice people around.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” He said. “Very few would vouch for you in that statement.” 

“Well, I’m not asking for people to vouch,” You smirked, folding your arms across your chest. “Am I?”

He smiled, sheepishly, shaking his head.

“No, I suppose not.” 

And that had been the beginning. 

You had spent the rest of the flight, chattering to one another, even throughout the night.

Though, that had mostly been on your part.

“Are you awake?” You’d whisper, seeing him clearly asleep, tapping his shoulder, ruffling his hair to wake him.


“There’s a really scary movie I can watch-but there’s no way I’m watching it alone.” 

And for some reason, he’d sigh, sit up, and watch it with you.

It felt like it would seemingly be that way forever.

Until it wasn’t.

Until the plane landed.

You both unloaded, even speaking to one another as you made your way throughout the airport, his voice perhaps a bit lighter now.


Yet it all stopped as he saw his chauffeur. 

“I…It seems this is where I have to go.” He sighed a hint of sadness in his expression, his grip on his bag tightening. “Well, um…it was nice meeting you MC. Best of luck.” 

“You too. Take that well-deserved break of yours. I know I didn’t really give you any.” 

“Trust me,” He almost set a hand on your shoulder, pulling back at the last moment. “That was possibly the best time I’ve had in a long time.” 

And despite everything, a warmth bloomed in your chest.

Even as he left.

Yet as soon as he was out of sight, you couldn’t help but admit that you would’ve much rathered him stay.

However unlikely that would’ve been.

You instead, made your way to your hotel, a quaint, friendly environment with content and helpful people scattered about.

But not the man in the polyester suit.

Not that he was expected.

But you had hoped all the same. 

“What’s one of the best places to visit?” You asked the receptionist, early morning slipping in through the windows. 

She thought for a moment, tapping her finger against the desk, practically a light popping above as she came up with something. 

“Well, personally, I think you should check out the Theatre of Dionysus,” She told you. “I think you might be able to get there before tourists show up.” 

You nodded, stepping back, waving to her as you made your way out. “You know what, I think I’ll go check it out. Thank you!” 

You rushed down the streets, going off, pink still wavering in the sky as you arrived, creamy stones lining the seats that had once housed while not many, had much importance. 

You strolled about the walkway, sitting down against one of the flat stones, staring out what was once a stage.

But while you became engrossed in your thoughts, a voice suddenly brought you back.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again.” 

You twisted your head to see him.


And the widest smile tugged at your lips.

And oddly enough, one came to him as well.

“Did you just miss me so much?” You questioned. 

“You’re hard to forget, but truthfully this was simply a happy accident.” He shrugged, letting out a faint bit of laughter. “Not that I mind.” 

“Neither do I,” You tapped the seat next to you. “Here, sit with me.” 

He obliged, sitting beside you. 

“Where are you staying?”

“Oh, just a little place nearby, what about you?”

“King George, in Constitution Square.” He answered. “Have you heard of it?”

“The hotel that is worth more money than I”ll make in my whole life,” You snickered. “Once or twice.” 

“I could book you a room as well if you’d like,” He offered. “I’d be willing to pay for anything you might like there.”

“Goodness,” You shook your head. “no I could never accept that.” 

“I have no trouble to do that really.” 

“But I do. Don’t go spending your money on me like that, I can take care of myself.” 

“…Alright…” He murmured. 

“What?” You furrowed your brow, frowning. “What is it?”

“I’ve simply never had anyone not want anything from me before.” 


“No…never.” He appeared to notice something was wrong with it. “I don’t quite know how to feel about it.” 

You set a hand on his arm, squeezing it lightly. 

“First time for everything?”

He nodded, letting out a weak snigger.

“Yes…Yes, I guess you’re right,” He sighed, standing up adjusting the cuffs of his suit.

“Hey-where are you going?”

“That’s not the question you should be asking.” 

“What should I be asking then?”

“Where are we going.” 

“What do you mean?”

“You said there’s a first time for everything, so-come on then.” He reached out to you, his fingers gently curling around you. “I want to take you somewhere.” 

“I already said not to take me to that castle-”

“No, this is different. I think you’ll like it.” 


Plaka was a small neighborhood village with flowers lining from roof to roof, quietly aged cobblestone roads beneath your feet as you walked beside him.

“Where’d you hear of this place?” You inquired, sitting down across from him in the cafe, hidden away by the hillside. 

“My assistant recommended it to me before I left, saying it was a very calm and lovely place. Reminded me of you when I started thinking about it.” 

“I’m not very quiet.” 

“Perhaps not but you are-” He stopped himself, a bit of red sprinkling his cheeks.

“What? What am I?” 

“You are um…l-lovely I-I mean…” He looked to you for only a moment before letting out a bit of flustered laughter, looking away. 

“E-Excuse me?” 

“I don’t mean anything by it y-you’re simply just-” He shrugged, nearly trying to wipe the heat from his face. “unlike anyone else I’ve ever met.” 

“In a good way?” You asked, leaning a tad over the table.

“In the best way possible.” 

And from then on, you were inseparable.

You exchanged numbers and you found each other calling each other more than you had expected.

Which truthfully, could’ve simply been once and you would’ve been surprised.

But it was much more.

You would wake up in the middle of the night, lids groggily raising as the phone rang, raising it to your ear ready to almost burst with frustration.

But then you heard him.

And somehow, it melted away.

“Hello…MC, I hope I’m not waking you.” 

“U-Um no-no not at all!” You exclaimed, holding back a yawn.


“So…uh…why’d you call?” 

“I…I wanted to hear your voice,” He answered, softly. “That was all.” 

“Oh.” You felt your heart begin to race, flustered beyond belief. “Well, um-here I am.” 

“Yes…I’m glad you are.” He continued. “If you don’t mind, could you just stay on the line? Talk about whatever it is you may like, I just…I just want to listen.” 

“I haven’t really got anything interesting to say.” 

“I doubt that.” 

“Oh, you do know?”

“I do, very much so in fact.” 

“Well, what if I’m just silent then this whole time?”

“I don’t see you doing that.” 

“…I don’t see me doing that either.” 

Each day it appeared to be something new.

Athens or otherwise. 

“Do you even know who Hephaestus is?” You looked to him, wandering the temple beside him.

“Yes, it just so happens I do.” 

“Who is he then?”

“God of blacksmithing, sculptors, and artisans.” He explained. “He is unable to use his legs and was cast out by the gods when he was discovered to be imperfect. He fought his way back, however, and was wed to Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty.” 

“Well aren’t you an educated man?”

“I’d certainly hope so.” 

And as your hands were close, you felt the side of his against your own. 

And soon they began to intertwine with yours.

But you never let go.

It seemed the two of you would never.

Until never came.

You met Jumin at the airport as he prepared to leave, a sort of sadness overwhelming you as you watched him arrive, his suitcases held in his grip.

“MC…” He sighed, attempting to grin. “I’m glad you could come.” 

“I am too…I think.” 

“You think?” 

“I mean if you stayed that’d be great too.” 

“It would be,” He confessed. “I think we might’ve missed a few places.” 

“Maybe next time?” 

“I can only hope.” 

An announcer came on, a voice booming over throughout.

“I…I need to go. That’s my flight.” 

“Right…don’t think Athens will be too fun without you though.” 

He let out a deep breath raising his palm, hovering just over your cheek, debating for a second.

Before you answered for him.

You sank into his palm, offering him a smile that he wholeheartedly returned, despite the sorrow in his features.

“I…goodbye MC.” 


He drew away, making his way down the hall through the pools of people.

Leaving you.

So, what else could you do?

You did the same. 

You turned away, heading back the way you came, pushing past what felt like hordes of people to the door.

Until you heard a voice.

A familiar one.


“MC!” He yelled out, dropping his suitcases as he found you at the exit. 

You twisted around to meet him, gaze widening like dinner plates. 

“J-Jumin?” You were baffled. “W-What’re you doing? You’re going to miss your flight!” 

“I’m very well aware of that,” He huffed. “But I…I didn’t want to leave.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t want to leave…without you.” 


“I-I’m in love-I’m in love with you.” He struggled to keep his cool. “I’m i-incredibly in love with you actually.” 

“I-I um.” 

You didn’t really know what to say.

So you just said what you felt. 

“I-I love you too!” 

“You do?”

You took in a sharp breath, unable to withhold your giggles.

“I-I do!” 

“T-Then will you come with me?” 

“S-Should I?”

He held onto your hands, running a delicate thumb over your knuckles. 

“Well…I certainly think so.” 

“Then…” You beamed. “how can I say no to that?” 

He pulled you closer, tipping his forehead against your own, hardly inches apart.

Yet before he closed the space between you, he spoke.

With utter adoration.

And true delight.

“I suppose you can’t.” 

anonymous asked:

AU with biro ace Fred and demiro pan Lee adopting twin girls?

TW: Mentions of acephobia, arophobia, biphobia/panphobia, homophobia, racism

Some days Fred just wants to scream.

“But aren’t you asexual? I thought that meant you wouldn’t want kids…”

“Kids are pretty permanent. What if you two decide on an open relationship? That’ll confused and mess up the kids.”

“Do you really think it’s a good idea? Raising kids with no mother-figure. Or is one of you the mom?”

“Isn’t Lee aromantic? If he doesn’t love you, why would you have kids with him?”

“Don’t black fathers tend to be absent? Aren’t you worried about raising the twins on your own?”

When did his and Lee’s personal lives become everyone else’s business? And when did clearly ignorant and bigoted people start believing they could just open their mouths and spew whatever vomit poured out? It had been one thing dealing pureblood bigotry, which wasn’t aimed at him. It had been one thing dealing with others looking down on them because they were poor, because they had a big family, or because they weren’t Death Eaters/sympathizers. Those were aimed at his parents or things that he did.

It was a whole entire other beast when he was attacked for the core of who he was. It was exhausting. And as much as he wanted to follow Ginny’s advice (”hex them”), he wasn’t in school anymore and had to think about the consequences of hexing someone or even just challenging them to a duel.

Of course…

“Daddy, daddy! Daddy’s home!”

“Rough day, hun? C’mere, lemme massage those shoulders.”

“Lookit what I drawed! It’s you and dada and me and Prewett at the purple place. And there’s my pig puff!”

“You tell best stories, daddy.”

“Daddy, I wanna be Daddy when I’m big like you.”

“I’m glad you agreed to be my first kiss. I’m glad it turned into a surprising, whirlwind romance. I’m glad I found you.”

The wonderful things in his life far outweighed the terrible things. He knew that him being asexual didn’t mean he couldn’t want kids. Couldn’t love them. He knew that him being bi and Lee being pan didn’t mean they were more likely to cheat. He knew that they could even have a healthy, open relationship - if they wanted. He knew they didn’t. He knew kids needed loving, supportive parents and that gender didn’t matter. He knew that Lee loved him, knew Lee loved him before Lee loved him romantically. He knew Lee was a loving, devoted father who would never leave them.

Fred was reminded of the wonderful things every moment he spent with his family. And he’d walk through fire to keep the family he had.


Some days Lee just wants to give up and go back to bed.

“Aren’t you angry that Fred gets to work and you have to stay home with the kids?”

“Why would you subject children to your blatant sinning?”

“If you’re aromantic, then why did you get married?”

“Demiromantic? That’s not a thing. That’s just what everyone does.”

“So you never get to have sex? Wow, I’m sorry.”

Lee was used to the judgement, to people not respecting his privacy. But people pulled that crap in front of his kids, and that, Lee couldn’t deal with. It was a struggle some days. In Hogwarts, he hadn’t fought all that much. He was naturally very positive, and he used that to brush off the bad days, to take it in stride when a random student would reach out to feel his hair without asking, when he heard muttered slurs when he entered a room, when people got up to sit somewhere that he wasn’t near. It was hard, but he could almost press forward and pretend it hadn’t happened. He could laugh it off and cry privately later.

He couldn’t do that with his kids. Jordan and Prewett were only three and he was already trying to help give them methods to deal with strangers touching their hair. He was already taking them aside and helping to sort out their feelings when someone said something inappropriate or otherwise hateful about their dads. 

Of course…

“Dada, you okay? It’s okay to cry, you said. I cry with you, okay?”

“C’mere and tell me all about it, hm? And I’ll make dinner tonight.”

“Dada, hug time! Hug time!”

“You so funny, dada. I like when you make me laugh, it’s fun.”

“You’re the best Dada.”

“I’m so glad we finally tried dating. Mum was always telling us that your SO should be your best friend and that all good relationships are rooted in friendship. I always just thought she was being a sap. Until we got together, and I realized how true it was.”

The wonderful things in his life far outweighed the terrible things. He knew that being a stay-at-home dad (and occasionally hosting his radio show, which had turned into an awesomely sappy and semi-serious parenting show) was his choice and that he loved every moment of it. He knew him and Fred loved each other and that wouldn’t hurt the twins, whom they were both doting parents of. He knew he was arospec but could have gotten married regardless; marriage was a commitment, and he was committed to Fred. He knew demiromanticism was real and how he felt attraction was different than the choices some people specifically made. He knew that he was happy without sex, although sometimes Fred’s libido reared up and they indulged - and that was no one else’s business.

Lee was reminded of the wonderful things every moment he spent with his family. And he’d walk through fire to keep the family he had.


“Lee and Fred have written their own vows, which they would like to share with you now.”

George leaned forward to give Fred his ring as Angelina passed Lee his.

“Lee, I knew from the moment that you caught George and I sneaking around with a stinking, smoking knight’s helmet that was shouting insults at us and all you had to say was, ‘wicked, I’m in’ that we were really going to go places together. I didn’t realize then that going places included standing in front of our family and friends to declare our love to each other… But I couldn’t be happier about it. You’re the calm to my brashness. The big picture to my detailed focus. I love laughing with you, scheming with you, and dreaming with you. And Lee, the is the longest I’ve ever been serious, so I think you must know how much I care about you. I love you, Lee.”

Lee reached out to squeeze Fred’s hand, taking a moment to clear his throat before he spoke.

“Fred, I never admitted this but before you and George ran into me on the train, I was hiding myself away and already crying from homesickness. You ignoring my tears and making me laugh was amazing and set me up to have an amazing first year. In third year when I was panicking and trying to deny that I was pan, without even knowing what I was going through, you knew how I was feeling and calmed me down and made me feel better. When I realized I was demiromantic in fifth year, you and George were the only ones I felt safe coming out to - more than that, you were the only one I wanted to tell. And when I saw you in that hospital room when you nearly died, it felt like the world had dropped out from under me. Until you mumbled out that you couldn’t be dead because you knew we all couldn’t have all died and just let Moldy Voldy win like that because how disappointing. And the sound of your voice? The relief I felt when I knew you were alive? Fred, you make me live. You make me soar. And maybe this is an anticlimactic ending, but I love you, and I can’t wait to see where we go from here.”

And the two kissed as they slipped the other’s ring on, and they couldn’t even hear the cheering of their family from their elated passion.

~Hufflepuff Mod

anonymous asked:

hi! hope this isn't a bother but i was wondering -- do you have any favorite johnlock fics you could recommend? i've started watching series 4 finally and i have a craving. thanks so much in advance, and i hope you're having a lovely day!

Ah me. :)

If I attempted to share a list of faves, it would go on for quite a while if I really got my wheels under me and I had the time. I take it you saw the Baker Street Babes spreadsheet I reblogged the other day? A surprising amount of my preferred reading is scattered through there.

Let’s go instead for what I’m reading at the moment.

Please be warned: many of these are WIPs. I have no problem with WIPs as pretty much my whole damn relationship with fiction is built on a long series of WIPs, some of the longest of them mine. (Let us not FFS mention the name of a series that in 2019 will have been running for FORTY YEARS. George Martin has nothing on me.) I know some people won’t read WIPs, but I would not be one of those people. And the longer they are the better I like them, because where else does one put unquestioning faith these days? It’s got to go somewhere. 

Anyway, all these are on AO3. Pardon me for not inserting links, as I’m in the middle of something. Use the search box at AO3, you’ll find everything. 

Most recently (working backward down my notifications list) I’ve been reading (or rereading) fics by greywash (build your wings), Vulgarweed (The Dark Fire Will Avail You: since Tolkien seems to have fought shy of writing picaresque Maiar smut I have to get it somewhere), mydogwatson (Postcard Tales III), Chryse (Another Country), itsallfine (still missing the daily and sometimes multiply-daily updates on The Pieces That Fall To Earth), liriodendron (The Half Life of a Strange Quark), ancientreader (Pygmalion), tepidspongebath (numerous recent shorts), Mazarin221b (ditto, back after an absence and very welcome), lifeonmars (Points), scullyseviltwin (It Figures)… Also delighted to hear that Nana_41175′s Captive Hearts will update shortly.

That should be enough to be going on with, I think. :)

Mine (Joji)

Anon Request: Could u do an imagine where reader isn’t dating joji but he gets jealous of her hanging around and laughing at other people’s jokes then just grabs her by the waist and whispers “mine"

I somehow heard a knock on the door over the sound of everyone’s chatter and the soft sound of the music, someone else was waiting to get in. Great. Not that I didn’t like people, I was social and actually enjoyed the company, but the place was getting crowded enough. I opened the door, a smile spread across my face. His black hair was somewhat covering his face as he stared down at his phone, as he looked up, his eyes beamed, a smile spreading across his face. He looked good despite me not seeing him for a few weeks. I expanded my arms out, letting him embrace me as he buried his face into the crook of my neck.

“Hey, Joji.” I said, still smiling.

I considered Joji my closest friend up until a few weeks ago when he randomly stopped coming over and communicating with me altogether. There was an incident that occurred at a friends house party where someone had drunkenly put him on blast, claiming that he had a crush on me, and feeling embarrassed and awkward, he kept his distance thinking that maybe I didn’t feel that way about him but it ‘wouldn’t hurt to take precautionary measures’…and I did feel that way, but I knew that he didn’t, which is obviously why he kept his distance in the first place. He pulled away from the hug rather quickly, which of course left me red-faced and a bit ashamed. I let him in and shut the door behind us.

“You look nice.” he said looking around, seeing nothing but groups of people, “This place looks different, you remodeled?”

“Nah, I just moved the furniture around a little bit. I needed a change.” I answered.

He nodded, uncomfortably standing there. I offered him beer, to which he followed me into the kitchen to receive. I took one out of the fridge for him, handing it over, he spoke, “Do you think we can talk? I have some stuff I wanna get out of the way…”

“Uh, yeah, we can go-“ I said before I was interrupted by Henry, one of my friends, calling me from the living room.

“You gotta see this!” Henry laughed over the music and everyone’s constant rapid talking. I excused myself politely and went over to Henry who showed me a video of some sort of meme. I couldn’t help but laugh and roll my eyes at him. Soon enough, I had forgotten about George who was in the kitchen still rummaging the cabinets for more alcohol. I danced around with several people, feeling great, singing along and laughing all through the night. Deciding to take a break, I went into my room to change out of my top. It was soaked in sweat and beer so I went with something a little more revealing around my cleavage area and my stomach just for fun. Walking out into the hallway, I saw Joji leaning against the wall.

“Hey, George. You okay?” I asked, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Uh, sure. You’re looking a little…revealing.” he pointed out bluntly.

“It’s hot in here.” I answered shrugging.

He walked off, taking a giant gulp of his drink. Maybe he still felt awkward…and that made me feel like shit. It was probably best to forget about him the way I saw him, so that’s what I focused on doing. I drank more, circling myself with my friends as everyone else danced. I laughed at the weird shit they tried pulling and the jokes they told. Catching my breath, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see a guy that was invited by one of my friends, she was trying to set me up. Since I wanted to forget about Joji as much as I could, I started chatting the guy up. Lightly touching his arm every now and then, giggling at his little antics. I could see George behind the guy, glaring over at us as he clenched his jaw. I paid no mind to him, focusing on the guy again. A few minutes passed by and the guy leaned in to my ear to to tell me something, I couldn’t hear him over the music blaring louder than before. I noticed George throw his cup somewhere and angrily lumbered over to us. He yanked me by my wrist, pulling me into his chest. Smelling his scent I shut my eyes, I missed him more than I thought I did. Although I was confused, I didn’t mind it. Trying to get over Joji would be a challenge. I opened my eyes and processed what was going on.

“What are you doing?” I asked harshly, pushing away from him as I realized what a dick-move that was. He disappears for weeks after denying his feelings for me, treating it as some kind of joke, making me feel like a complete idiot for feeling the way I do about him and now here he was cock blocking. Joji clutched me by the waste, pulling me in close, joining our bodies together.

“Mine.” he whispered into my ear in a gravelly voice, “All mine.”

His hand resting just above my butt as I felt his lips nip at my neck, working their way to my lips. His free hand cupped my face. Joji looked me in the eyes, searching my face with his eyes, as if trying to assure me everything was okay. He tilted his head lower, hesitating. I grabbed his face in my hands and pressed my lips to his hungrily. Everything around us felt like it disappeared, even that stupid guy who was hitting on me. I wanted George, I’ve always wanted George, and now that our feelings for each other were reciprocated, I didn’t have to hide that anymore.

“All yours.” I smiled as he leaned his forehead against mine.

It’s Time To Begin Isn’t It

Stiles/Derek | PG | ~6k | AO3
Content notes:
 Post-canon, S6a compliant, past relationship references, relationship building

Summary: When Stiles finishes his degree at George Washington, he doesn’t hesitate when it comes to enrolling in the FBI academy in Quantico. Eager to start his career in the agency, even more to put his past behind him, he doesn’t put much thought to the memories that he might find in the area. But then he stumbles upon something that brings back something he thought he left far behind… in ways he isn’t expecting.

A/N: My apologies to the fandomwritingchallenge team for the delay in posting (and for going over the word limit). This managed to grow legs under me and turned into something bigger than I expected. And a massive thank you to Jenn for all the cheerleading when I was lost, and for the Beta read! 

It’s a few weeks before he’s allowed off base. Half of his class is on the way out before Stiles even gets back to his room on the first afternoon that they get leave. His roommate, Evan, has tossed all his things on the bed, and Stiles only finds an empty room. Another classmate – Sara, from the room across the hall – asked him earlier in the day if he was driving out, and if she could tag along. But when Stiles glances towards her door, he spots her leaving. She gives him a quick wave and then he hears someone call out to her to hurry up.

Once he’s put away his notes and books, he checks his watch. He’s not meant to be calling his dad or Lydia, and Scott’s working late at Deaton’s. The cut-off for being out is midnight, but he knows he’ll have to be up at five for training again, so he wonders if it’s worth it.

He does miss driving Roscoe, though, so he heads down to the parking lot, figuring he’ll at least make sure the Jeep will start. When he got to DC four years ago, he was amazed that they made it, but somehow the tape and rust held Roscoe together. He’s even more amazed now that it’s still in driving condition after years of driving around Washington and even making summer trips back home.

When he has the engine running – after a sigh of relief that there is enough gas in the tank to get to the nearest station – Stiles decides to at least go for a short drive. He barely got to see anything but the dorms and the road to them when he arrived, as once he was there, he wasn’t allowed out for anything but classes and training.

The place is small. Smaller than Beacon Hills. Definitely smaller than Washington. It gives him comfort, somehow, knowing that he’s somewhere that seemingly peaceful, a place that he hopes is unlikely to attract the special kind of hell. Only the regular human kind, which he’s here to learn how to defeat. It’s quiet, too, even though he can see people around, some in uniforms, others in civilian clothes. He takes note of places as he drives – post office, pizza place, stores, mechanic – just so he’s a little less lost the next time. They’ll be allowed to be out for the weekend unless there’s a special training session, and Stiles plans to go explore a little more. He gets back to base early that first night.

Keep reading

Taking The Mickey

Title: Taking The Mickey
Author: @jdaisyj
Prompt : Situation (caught in an embarrassing situation)
Description: It isn’t always easy finding privacy at The Burrow. Post DH.
Rating: M (definite sexual situations and language, but still fluffy).

Mod Note: I added a Read More in consideration of the rating.

“Fucking hell, what are you doing?”

“Do you like it?”

“Do I like it? Sweet Merlin, don’t ever stop.”

Hermione chuckled at Ron’s breathy response, the sound quickly turning to a groan as she rocked against his trouser-clad lap again. He pressed his head back into the rough bark of the tree he was sitting against and grabbed helplessly at her hips.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi! Do you have any fic recommendations already where Derek and Stiles are best friends? If you have, can you please link it? Thank you very much! I'm starved for these kinds of fics.

  • This MIght Be Irony by thepsychicclam (M, 38k) Stiles and Derek have been close friends since the Hale siblings moved in next door after their parents’ death. But Derek’s in the popular group, he’s a star baseball player, and he dates popular Pep Squad captain Jennifer Blake. Stiles doesn’t have any of that, just his skateboard and a hopeless crush on Derek (oh yeah, and his Vote Lydia Martin Prom Queen button). As prom and the baseball state championship grow closer, Stiles and Derek start rekindling their friendship. And it all begins with two white boards.
  • Little Dumplings by DevilDoll (G, 8k) “You and Derek are going to sit next to each other,” she said. Derek had already put his mat down off to the side, near the window, and was sitting on it, glaring at his Batman sneakers. “And you’re going to hold hands.“ "What?” Stiles blurted. He looked over at Derek, who was looking back at him, mouth fallen open in shock. His eyes were so wide that for once his eyebrows weren’t his most noticeable facial feature. “If you refuse to apologize to each other, you’ll have to make up another way,” Miss Blake said firmly, steering Stiles over toward Derek and standing there while he obediently—if somewhat grudgingly—put his mat down.
  • Mating Habits of the North American Domesticated Werewolf by lielabell (M, 35k) Derek doesn’t do pining. He doesn’t. So when it becomes clear that Stiles is much more interested in having Derek as a new best friend than a boyfriend, he puts on his big boy pants and makes it fucking work. He becomes the best goddamn friend a spastic teenager could ever hope to have.
  • Help me get in touch (with what I feel) by alenie (E, 3k)  “Stiles, what happened?” Derek says as sternly as he can (which isn’t very). Nevertheless, there is a pause on the line, and a small sigh. “I was just…having some Stiles personal time, you know? And…I may have gotten something stuck. Um, in me.” “In you?” Derek says incredulously. “What do you…oh.” Enlightenment strikes. “Like, in your…” “Yes, in my butt!” Stiles snaps.

Keep reading

It Worked (Fred Weasley x reader smut)

(This has smut and some fluff. Let me know of mistakes, I’m happy to fix them! Enjoy!)

(Y/N) plopped down at the Gryffindor table. Her best friends Fred and George Weasley identically looked at her raising their eyebrows upon seeing her sour expression. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” asked George, the twins simultaneously smirked. “Being awake” sighed (Y/N) pouring oatmeal into her bowl. She’s never been a morning person. “What’s up with you two?” she added gesturing to their wide smirks. “Oh nothing, (Y/N/N) just happy to see you.” winked Fred. This made her heart flutter a bit, she scoffed. It was stupid, she thought. Fred always says stuff like that. It doesn’t mean anything. “Yeah, right” she murmured rolling her eyes. “Ooo someone’s sassy today” chuckled George “please, that was nothing” (Y/N) said back finishing her oatmeal. “Well, since you aren’t satisfied with that answer, perhaps you’d like to know what we have planned for dinner?” added George. “And whats that?” she replied, smirking. Fred felt his heat jump, he loved it when that devious look slid a crossed her beautiful face. “Well, we thought we’d teach Malfoy a lesson for calling you a you-know-what the other day.” started Fred. “Wait, wait, wait I-I told you guys, I can handle that on my own” (Y/N) stated defensively. “We know you can, we just want to help out a bit” Fred said back shrugging his shoulders. “Well, what did you have in mind?” asked (Y/N) curiously.

It was finally dinner and (Y/N) could hardly wait. She hated being called a mudblood more than anything. It was so demeaning, especially coming from Malfoy who thinks so highly of himself and his ridiculous family. She walked into the Great Hall to see Fred and George already at the table sniggering to one another. She could help but notice how Fred’s eyes lit up when he saw her, looking much like the stars glistening on the ceiling. She sat acrossed from them and asked in a low voice, “Did it work?” “We’re about to find out” they said in unison as they both stood walking over to the Slythern table, both gesturing for her to follow. George tapped Draco on the shoulder. (Y/N) saw the confused look on his face which twisted into disgust when he saw Fred, George, and (Y/N). “What do want, Weasels?” He spat. “Oh not much, Malfoy” started Fred. “Just have a couple questions for you” continued George. “Are you going to ask me or just keep waisting my time?” Draco asked sharply. “Have you ever kissed a girl” Fred asked loudly, drawing the whole tables attention. “No” he stated simply “and what is your deepest secret?” asked George with a huge grin. “I’m obsessed with Harry Potter” he stated again, all the Slytherns just stared at him in horror. “and finally, why do you always bully (Y/N)?” they asked in unison. “Because she really hot and I want her to pay attention to me” he said again with no expression. Fred’s jaw clenched and nose flared while George and (Y/N) burst into laughter. “Yep, it worked!” chuckled George. “We have to take him to the hospital wing!” shrieked Pansy Parkinson who was still struck with horror. “Don’t bother Madame Pomfrey, veritiusum wears off in a couple minutes” laughed (Y/N) as the three turned and went back to the Gryffindor table. “Fred, you okay, mate?” asked George looking at his brother. Fred’s jaw was still clenched he murmured “Yeah, I’m fine” got up and briskly left the Great Hall. He paced up and down the hallway. This is ridiculous, he thought, it’s a stupid thing to be jealous over. He turned when he heard the Great Hall door open and close again. He saw (Y/N), he loved the look of confusion on her face. Her brows were knitted and eyes big. He could just take her face in his hands an-“Are you sure you’re okay?” His thoughts were interrupted, he just stared back at her, not knowing what to say. “Freddyyy” she pouted lowly walking over to him. Godric, He loves it when she does that. “I-I just got… um I guess I got a bit jealous” he winced at his words, usually so smooth and easy, but she messes with his head. “Jealous?” asked (Y/N) her brows knitting again “of who?” “Malfoy” he stated. She laughed “Malfoy? Bloody hell, why?” “ ‘cause he got to tell you how he feels about you” Fred replied his eyes looking up into hers. “Fred, you can- you can tell me anything, you know that” she stammered, her heart beginning to race in her chest. She walked closer to him, so close she had to look up to see him, noses inches apart. “I-I mean, I have these feelings for you” he whispered. “Me too” she smirked. “Really?” he asked, heart leaping. “I mean if those feelings are love then yeah” Fred immediately closed the space between them pressing his lips to hers. She relished the feel of his rough chapped lips on her soft ones. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his wild ginger locks as he wrapped his arms around her waist, he turned his head to deepen the kiss, she complied as his tongue started to explore her mouth. He groaned a deep guttural groan as they pulled away for breath. “I’ve waited forever to do that.” He whispered while pressing his forehead against hers. “Let’s go somewhere more private, yeah?” (Y/N) asked, feeling her confidence start to come back as she took his hand and started briskly toward the secret passageway her, Fred, and George often used. When they entered they saw the pile of blankets and pillows left over from a recent sleepover you all had together. You turned toward Fred with a smirk. “You sure about this, (Y/N)?” he asked smiling, “wouldn’t want to risk out friendship” he said jokingly. She pulled her shirt over her head to reveal a navy lace bralette. His eyes widened and gulped deeply. “Well, we weren’t that close anyway” he murmured as he pulled her into a deep kiss, walking till they fell onto the pile. (Y/N) turned him on his back and broke the kiss, earning a grunt of displeasure. She smirked and straddled his hips. She pulled off his jumper then slowly started unbuttoning his white shirt. He groaned over the teasing as she ground her hips down a bit and ripped the rest of his shirt off, tossing it aside and sitting up, giving open mouthed kisses up and down her neck. She slipped her skirt off and pushed him down softly to take off his pants. She then pulled back his boxes to let his erection spring lose. Her breath hitched slightly at the size, she’s only had sex twice before, and started to get worried about her lack of experience. “You okay, love?” Fred asked concerned. “I’m getting better and better” she remarked and took hold of his erection and started kitten kissing the tip. Fred took in a quick deep breath and let out a strangled groan as she fully licked up and down his shaft. She took all of him in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she slid up and down. Fred was a moaning mess, his hands were tangled in her hair, guiding her. She could feel he was getting close so she stopped, causing him to let out a cry. “Be patient, love” (Y/N) murmured pressing a kiss to his lips, “No,
now” he growled, turning her over on her back and spreading her legs. He slipped off her soaking panties and ran his fingers up and down her folds then, slowly inserting his middle finger deep inside her. “Oh, fuck! Fred!” she moaned as he inserted another finger. He pulled his fingers out and lined himself up to her entrance and slowly thrusted into her. They both moaned loudly, he leaned down to kiss her roughly. He started at a quicker pace, both of them moaning over and over. He removed her bra and started placing kisses over her breasts and nipples as her thrusted into her faster. “Ugh, Merlin, (Y/N) I’m close” stammered Fred, his thrusts getting faster, and sloppier. “Me too” squealed (Y/N) as she felt the knot in her stomach get tighter till she finally released. The feeling of her orgasm sent Fred over the edge, he came deep in her and fell, pulling the covers over them, both of them were panting deeply. Fred loved watching her chest rise and fall as she caught her breath. He smiled widely, (Y/N) smirked when she caught his eye. “What?” “I’m just, really happy” “I love you, Fred” she whispered looking in his deep, brown eyes and tangling her hands in his hair. “I love you too, (Y/N)” he said as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her under his chin. They both quickly fell asleep.

The sunrise gleaming through the cracks in the passage walls woke them. Fred stretched as he look down to see (Y/N), eyes still closed but nose scrunched, not wanting to get up. She grabbed his neck and pulled him to a chaste kiss, then opened her eyes. “Morning, love” she said in a raspy voice. “Wow, you’re unusually pleasant considering it’s morning” he chuckled. “Well, mornings not so bad if I get to wake up to you” (Y/N) said with a smile, reaching to grab her clothes. “Ooo that was smooth” he laughed. “Wait!” He stopped her before she pulled her shirt back on. “I have an idea how to tell everyone!”

(Y/N) walked through the portrait door into the Gryffindor common room to Hermione, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Lee, George, Angelina and a couple other Gryffindors she doesn’t know very well. They all turned to look at her. Hermione stuttered looking shocked “uh, (Y/N) where were you all night?” “I went to study in the library and accidentally fell asleep” (Y/N) shrugged as she started to the girls dorm. “Um” Ron’s voice stopped her “why is your jumper so big?” “Oh” (Y/N) looked down pretending to just notice the jumper that was to her mid thigh. “Someone must of hexed it!” she stated, holding back laughter as she ran up the dormitory stairs. Everyone looked around at each other, shrugged and got back to their conversations. They all looked back up as they heard the portrait door open once again. “Morning all!” Fred yawned merrily as he walked into the common room. Everyone stared at him shocked. George’s jaw hitting the floor as they saw Fred wearing a Gryffindor jumper that was to his elbows and showing his belly button. He thew open the boys dormitory door and hopped up the stairs. Everyone sat in shock for a few moments, piecing it together, then they all jumped up, boys up to the boys dorm and girls up to the girls. They both grabbed (Y/N) and Fred and pulled them down the stairs, cheering and shouting hoorays. Fred and (Y/N) were shoved together, they smiled widely to each other. “It worked” she chuckled as he leaned down and kissed her, earning more cheers from their friends and a vomiting noise from George.