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cardansriddle · 3 years

Note

Ooo reader taking tom to the beach but w/smut!

Tom Riddle- Little Dress

Summary: After a scorching hot day spent trying to find an artefact in France, frustrated reader wants to head down to the beach to cool off. Tom takes her to the beach, yet instead of cooling off things get even more heated.

Warnings: Smut, choking.

You had always admired Tom Riddle's ambition, after all, it is what made him the best wizard amongst his peers. Yet now, as you stood under the blazing hot sun in France as Tom searched for a dark, mystical artefact, you could not help but curse Tom's ambition.

Tom Riddle had been on a quest to find this artefact for years, and it was this year that he discovered it was in one of the small villages of France. He had immediately gathered his followers, otherwise known as his Knights, and informed them that they would be travelling to France during the summer break.

It was a lucky coincidence, but no surprise that Abraxas Malfoy's family owned a mansion next to the alleged location of the artefact, therefore Tom had selected seven of his best followers to travel and stay with him in France.

"Damn Riddle and his mysterious artefacts." Abraxas scowled from next to you, as you stood outside of the building on the lookout, making sure no one would disturb Tom's hunt for the object.

"As soon as he finds it, I'm running down to the beach next to the house and jumping into the sea. No one can stop me. Not even Tom." You sighed, swiping at your sweaty forehead and frowning in disgust at the stickiness you felt all over your body.

"Is that so?" A voice hummed in amusement behind you, and you turned around to be met with the devilish smirk of Tom Riddle himself as he gazed at you. Your stomach twisted at the sight of him and ignored the chatter of the boys behind you.

"Can we leave?" Abraxas asked Tom, not taking notice of the tension between you.

Tom did not break his gaze from yours as he quickly muttered a 'yes', letting the boys know that they were dismissed for the day. They did not need to be told twice as they quickly started heading back to the mansion, leaving you two behind.

You could see drops of sweat on his forehead as well, which caused a strand of his hair to fall out from his perfectly styled hair, and you did not think twice before reaching up and pushing it back to its place gently. He watched you intensely as you did so, and once you realised what you had done, you blushed and avoided his eyes.

"Do you want to join me at the beach?" You asked not so subtly, walking ahead of him in order to escape his heated stare. When you got no answer, you turned your head to look at him and were met with the sight of his head cocked to the side as he stared down your body with a scowl. "Tom?"

"Don't wear this dress again." He said instead, his face hardening the longer he looked at you shamelessly.

"What?" You asked bewildered, who was he to tell you what you could wear and what you could not.

His eyes snapped back up to catch your eyes. "I said, I do not want to see you in this short little dress ever again. Nott's thoughts about your legs were far too loud to be ignored." His face twisted into a sneer, and you felt as if you lost the ability to speak under his glare.

"I don't think you can control the way I dress." You stood your ground, crossing your arms over your chest, not missing the instant when his eyes dropped to your chest before flicking back up.

"Can't I?" He cocked a brow. "Then I guess I will have to show you who owns you in front of all of them." He smirked, stepping closer to you until you were chest to chest. He grabbed ahold of your wrist and before you knew it, the air around you squeezed in and he apparated you two to the private beach that the Malfoy's owned.

"Why are we here?" You asked, hating the way your voice sounded so frail and breathless.

"You said you wanted to go to the beach, didn't you? Well, here we are." And with a wave of his hand, he conjured a blanket on the sand and lowered himself to sit as he pulled you with him so you were straddling his thigh.

His hand closed around your throat straight away, his grip nearly violent- and you would be lying if you said you did not find great pleasure in the action. His thigh is pressed between your legs, the hand that was not wrapped around your throat trailed up to drip your hips and forcing them to rock over his covered skin, your panties soaked with the arousal he had mustered up.

“Tom...” You gasped, sliding your arms around his neck and gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. “They can walk in and see us.” You tried to reason, yet your hips did not stop their pace, grinding down on his thigh greedily.

“That is the whole point of this, darling.” He said and Merlin, you should be embarrassed, you were in the middle of the beach and in a very compromising position, and if one of the boys were to walk in, you would never live down the embarrassment and shame. Yet, you felt thrilled all the same, at the prospect of getting caught, at the way Tom so clearly wanted to make sure everyone knew you belonged to him, the way he was so possessive over you.

“Merlin, you are soaked. I can feel your arousal through my trousers.” He hissed, his eyes closing in what you were sure was pleasure, and you felt smug at the fact that you had him riled up.

He took off your little dress, throwing it somewhere you did not see or care. You reached down to unzip his pants, your hands shaky as he continued to grind his thigh against you. His hand trailed up to grip the back of your hair, and he pulled at it, tilting your head up so he could have easy access to your neck. His head dropped to suck and bite on your neck, and you emitted a loud moan at the painful yet delighting action.

Tom was never a patient man, so while releasing an impatient groan, he waved his hand, causing his trousers to disappear along with his underwear, leaving him bare and dripping underneath you. Usually, you would have marvelled at the display of his effortless sorcery, however, now you were more focused on seeking relief that you were desperate for.

“Tom, please.” You pleaded, eyes shut in pleasure. You felt him smirk against the tender skin of your neck before his lips covered yours in a searing kiss that made you dizzy.

He pulled away to look at you. “What do you want?” He asked, his tone taunting.

“I want you.” You breathed out, leaning towards him and leaving a kiss on his soft lips. Lips that you were sure were coated in some type of drug because you could not get enough of their taste, of the feeling they gave you. You were addicted.

His smirk widened, his expression pleased and smug at your desperation. At your need for him.

“Look at you begging for me, you pretty little thing.” He hummed and grabbed your hips before allowing you to lower yourself on him. You moaned at the sensation of him sliding inside of you, the feeling so surreal your eyes rolled to the back and you swore you saw stars at the back of your head. He did not give you any time to adjust, before making you move. The pain brought you pleasure.

He was not gentle, his hands would definitely leave bruises on your hips, and you were sure there were bruises already forming on your throat. You rolled your hips against him, basking in the guttural sounds that he was emitting with each deep thrust.

His eyes snapped open and his gaze lowered to the place you were connected at, watching your motions with darkened eyes that spoke more than any words could.

When he thrust his hips up roughly, he hit a spot inside of you that had you screaming his name which encouraged him to continue his actions. He grabbed the back of your neck in order to pull you towards him into a kiss, his tongue parting your lips and pushing into your mouth.

“Keep making those pretty noises for me.” He muttered after pulling away, directing his focus to the other side of your throat that was left unmarked. You obeyed him, not holding back any noises that left your lips as you continued to roll your hips into his.

In a moment of boldness, your head dropped to his neck and you sucked on a particular spot, trying to leave a hickey. He had branded you as his and you believed you deserved to brand him as yours.

When you pulled back, he was once more looking at you heatedly, his eyes filled with amusement. Apparently he had enjoyed your act of possession, finding it endearing.

“I’m-” You gasped when he thrust into you deeply, losing your voice at the growing pleasure in the pit of your stomach.

“Come for me, love.” He whispered against your ear, holding you close so that your bare chests were brushing against each other. And so you did, you let it go, feeling euphoric as he finished right after you with slowed thrusts.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, catching your breaths. You lifted your head from his shoulder, moving to pull away from him.

Before you put your dress on, your eyes moved towards the sea, which looked too alluring to ignore. You looked back at Tom, who was watching you instead of dressing and gestured towards the water.

“I’m going into the water to cool down.” You informed him. “You can join.”

Tom was about to decline, after all, he did not indulge in such foolish activities, yet the sight of your naked form walking away from him and into the sea was enough to make him stand up and follow you into the water.

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efyra · 3 years

Text

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: the first time that remus almost lost his control

author’s note: i swear that i didn’t pretend to make two parts for this story but it just happened; i couldn’t help myself. i’m sorry 🥺 and I also am sorry for any grammar mistakes - like i said before, english is not my native language

1994, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Honestly, you never thought that would be so sensitive about your last year at Hogwarts. You didn't think you would miss walking those halls, dining under the starry sky of the Great Hall, the Quidditch games that cheered up the students of all Houses, resting on that tree next to the Black Lake or the magnificent view from the Astronomy Tower. All these little things that never meant much to you before, made your seventh year more melancholic than you imagined it would be - you couldn’t even think about no longer seeing your friends every day without starting to cry.

In a few months, you would be a graduated girl; an adult woman who would be entirely responsible for your own future. Technically, you would be free. Free to pursue any career you want; you could become a healer, a teacher, a magizoologist, or even an auror, and you would have a happy and prosperous life. Or you could just screw yourself up.

The uncertainty made you apprehensive.

Ever since you were born, everyone told you what to do, be it your parents or your teachers; how did they expect you to make a decision as big as "the future of your life" being so young? You were only 18, for Merlin's sake!

Why did you stay only seven years at Hogwarts? If you could, you would continue studying there until you were 25 years-old.

But, unfortunately, that was not possible.

What made you feel a little better was to think that your colleagues were as apprehensive as you were about venturing into the adult world.

Since the school year has began, seventh graders threw a "farewell party" every month and overdosed on firewhisky. You have witnessed a diversity of drunken behavior during these parties; there would always be someone crying because they would miss Hogwarts, others despairing because they didn't know what the fuck they were going to do with their lives, some pompously saying that they already knew exactly where they would work after graduation, there would also be those who would make brave confessions, act recklessly or end up sleeping on a couch.

You weren't a very party person; not that you were those people who didn't even attend the party, but you never crossed your limit, let alone did something to embarrass yourself. Of course, you've taken doses of firewhisky before, but you never got drunk.

Until that night.

Earlier that day, you got a letter from your parents telling that they expected you to become an auror just like them; that gave you stomach pain all day long. You had already thought about following the same career as your parents - who were phenomenal in their job - but you weren't sure if that was what you want for your future.

You were a simple girl. You were never very extroverted, but you made good friends during your years at Hogwarts. You were a great student, not extraordinary nor mediocre. You never drew much attention, and frankly, you never wanted that - in fact, you hated being in the spotlight. For some weird reason, you become very clumsy at those times.

So you never really considered becoming an auror. And because of that letter from your parents, you forgot to control how much firewhisky you were consuming.

And, for the first time in your life, you were officially drunk.

"Ok, I'm hungry" you declared to your friend; your voice tone was louder than usual and your words came out a little shuffled.

Y/F/N faced you with some fun in her eyes; it was unusual to see you like that.

"Right. Let's go to the kitchens, then"

You frowned in confusion.

"How do we get in there?"

"Just tickle the pear" she shrugged "easy peasy". A giggle came out of her lips. "What?" Y/F/N raised an eyebrow.

"You said pee-asy" you answered, giggling one more time.

Your friend shook her head.

"You're very drunk," she said with fun. "Let's give you some food and water and put you on bed.

"Oh, but I don't want to go to bed" you made a pout.

"Well, we're going anyway," Y/F/N said firmly; she knew you wouldn't want to wake up on some random couch. "I'll tell Riley we're going and be right back. Don't go anywhere.”

If you were sober, you would never consider invading Hogwarts' kitchens in the middle of the night, and you wouldn't have escaped from your friend after she told you to wait for her, but, obviously, you weren't even a little sober.

Walking through the dark and empty corridors was already an unknown experience for you, but walking through them being so drunk seemed like an adventure. You had no idea where you were going - even though you knew you wanted to get to the kitchens.

Then an intense light blinded you for a second.

"Miss Y/L/N?" the familiar voice of your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher took you by surprise.

Your eyes widened and you stumbled in your footsteps.

"Professor Hottie!" exclaimed automatically as soon as Remus fucking Lupin appeared in your front, seeming very intrigued to find you in the middle of the hall. "I mean... Professor Hottie!" you paused for a short second; looking sideways and not noticing the amused little smile that appeared on the older man's face. "Wait I said it again... Professor Lupin! Now I did it" you smiled and turned your head to face your teacher.

Then you saw.

That damn look. The look full of savagery that made your knees weak and the air escape from your lungs.

Your teacher slowly approached you; he calculated his steps so he won’t scare you - and honestly, he needed to control himself to not kiss you right there.

Remus Lupin looked like a wolf hunting his prey - and you looked delicious in his eyes.

"Miss Y/L/N..." he kept walking towards you, causing you to automatically take a few steps back, getting close to the wall. "What a little girl like you is doing in the hallway off hours?"

The words got stuck in your throat.

"I-I-I... Ah... I..."

Then he smelled it. He smelled the firewhisky on your breath.

A surprised moan came out of your lips when Professor Lupin pushed you against the wall, pressing his body on yours; his 6'2" height rising dangerously over yours much shorter.

"Were you drinking?" his tone was not as gentle as usual; it was rough and demanding. His question came out almost like a growl.

You gulped.

Your heart beat wildly and you never felt so hot like that before; you wondered if you could burst into flames just with that interaction.

"No!" you lied.

"Y/N..." was the first time Remus said your name; you loved how your name sounded in his voice. "I think you're lying to me," he whispered close to your ear.

You felt shiver over your spine.

"Professor, I-I... I don't..."

"I, I" he repeated in a mocking tone, appreciating how nervous you looked before facing you intensely again. "Don't lie to me again. You won't like what I'm going to do to you if you lie to me again.”

You gasp with your words, and to your embarrassment, a pathetic moan came out of your throat.

Remus growled; he clenched his hands firmly, trying to control himself to not fuck you right there in the hallway - his cock already hard inside his pants.

"Or maybe you would like it" he thought to himself.

But at the same time your groaning excited him, it also awakened him from his trance. Remus remembered who he was; he was your professor and you were his student. He couldn't do anything with you.

He took a step away from you, reluctantly; taking the time to admire how delicious you looked with your breath intertwined, your cheeks blushed and so submissive.

You were disappointed when you could no longer feel his warm body against yours, but you stopped yourself from saying anything. Honestly, you had no idea what had just happened between you and your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher; it seemed wrong and it certainly was forbidden, but you couldn't help but want more.

"You will go back to your dorm. No more firewhisky for you, do you understand, Miss Y/L/N?" he asked, looking at her intensely.

"Y-Yes" you stuttered nervously.

"Yes, what?" he growled.

"Yes, Professor Lupin" you corrected yourself quickly.

A smile appeared on the man's face full of scars.

"Good girl" he couldn't prevent those words from coming out of his mouth. "Now, go" he said authoritarian.

You nodded before heading back to the party; the drunkenness seemed to have left your body completely and you almost felt sober.

Almost.

Your little interaction with Remus fucking Lupin still made you feel a little dizzy.

Y/F/N found you halfway through, she guided you to your common room and brought you to your dorm.

That night, you slept quickly because even though Professor Lupin had taken you out of your drunk state, you still had a good dose of firewhisky.

Unlike you, Remus Lupin could not get a good night of sleep.

He thought about you all night long; the way you seemed to submit yourself completely to him without any hesitation, how small and fragile you seemed and how easy it would be for him to throw you on bed or any other surface he could fuck you into oblivion, the way you pressed your thighs together when he approached you - you didn't notice it, but he did.

Remus thought that, maybe, having you wasn't something so surreal; that, maybe, you wanted it too. But he remembered the firewhisky smell on your breath.

He knew he should never have done what he did.

He should have controlled himself.

The next day, he waited for Dumbledore to tell him that he was fired, but that never happened. He waited a week, two weeks, three weeks, more than a month passed and absolutely nothing happened.

Remus didn't know if he should be relieved or if he should feel like the worst man in the world; you had completely forgotten what had happened that night.

Or that's what he thought.

In fact, you remembered every minute of yours little interaction in the hall.

You remembered the way he looked at you ferociously, his predatory walk, you remembered perfectly the growl that came out of his throat, his body against yours, his chocolate and parchment paper perfume, and you, definitely, could never forget how dominant and controlling he acted - and how your body surrender to that behavior; how you liked it.

"You won't like what will happen to you if you lie to me again", it was his words, and Merlin, you had the most absolute certainty that you would love anything he did to you. And you would still beg for more.

You waited for Professor Lupin to come to you, but he never did. You waited more than a month and nothing happened.

It was as if that night had never happened.

Of course, you felt disappointed - very disappointed - but it was your last year at Hogwarts. Your last year walking through those halls, having dinner under the starry sky of the Great Hall, cheering for your house team at Quidditch, resting on that tree next to the Black Lake and enjoying the view from the Astronomy Tower, and you wouldn't waste it lamenting for your Dark Arts Defense teacher.

You graduated. And you thought you would never see him again.

But fate had other plans for you two because in that summer of 1995, you met at Grimmauld Place, number 12.

It didn't seem wrong anymore and it wasn't forbidden, so you promised yourself:

You were going to find out what Remus Lupin was hiding.

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

ego | jjk | harry potter au

⇥ pairing: gryffindor jeongukk x hufflepuff reader

⇥ genre: harry potter AU, smut, fluff, angst

⇥ summary: in which jeongguk is a cocky lil shit and the reader has to take him down a few pegs

⇥ warnings: 18+, dirty talk, light smut, cursing

The wind whirled around me as I careened towards the glistening goal posts, imagining the opposing team’s Keeper darting back and forth in hopes of blocking the Quaffle that was currently tucked under my arm. I feigned left and the imaginary keeper followed suit. I threw right – Quaffle sailing through the rightmost gold hoop.

I smiled and dove down past the posts to catch up with my own throw. Even though it was still the first week of the new term, I was determined to prove my newly acquired captain-status. Hufflepuff hadn’t had a female captain in ages; and, paired with that, I was only a 6th year.

Luckily, I had a strong team behind me with mostly returning players who I knew would fiercely support me. Us Puffs stuck together. It was inherently in our blood to be loyal as hell to our own, and I thanked Merlin for that every day since receiving the captain’s badge.

As soon as I had hopped on the Hogwarts’ Express a few days prior, I had immediately been swept up in a giant bear hug by Jeong Yunho, one of the Hufflepuff beaters.

“Oh, captain! My captain!” he had dramatically cried, spinning me around. His Dead Poet’s Society reference was not lost on me since I had a muggle parent with excellent taste in movies. Similar reactions from the rest of the team followed suit over the course of the train ride and the Welcoming Feast.

Trials for our only open position of Seeker would take place this weekend with practices immediately starting Monday. We had high hopes for redemption this season after being crushed by Slytherin’s team of goons early on in the Cup tournament.

The Slytherin team’s head hooligan Kang Dokyun led his team with a nasty blend of intimidation and violent tactics. I was convinced that Slytherin didn’t even hold trials and that they just lined up the Slytherin boys, picking out the biggest of the lot. Basically, Slytherin was strong, but slow and slightly uncoordinated. We could beat them by exploiting their weaknesses – of that I was certain.

Ravenclaw would be a bit harder to conquer. Their team played with a level of elegance and intelligence that was so utterly Ravenclaw that even us Puffs got annoyed. Ravenclaw’s captain Yoon Jisoo constructed tactical plays so tricky that she was already recruited to play for Puddlemore next year. Their team was smart, but not completely unbeatable. The Ravenclaws sometimes got so ingrained in their methodical maneuvers that they failed to notice some of their opponents’ counterattacks. That was how they lost the Cup last term to Gryffindor.

Gryffindor was our toughest competition. Winning the Cup last term, the Gryffindor team was a nauseatingly perfect balance between brains and brawn. Their captain Jeon Jeongguk, now a 7th year, was renowned for his tyrannical practice regime that he put his team through. We’d only played Gryffindor once in the regular season last year, and we had held our own for a while until we started getting tired and they didn’t. Seems like Jeongguk knew his shit when it came to conditioning. Something that I was determined to emulate with my own team.

Jeongguk was also the best damn Keeper that Hogwarts had seen in a long time, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by the looks of the professional Quidditch scouts that avidly attended his matches. He was way bigger than a typical Keeper – extremely tall with broad shoulders and giant paws for hands. However, the only thing bigger than his stature and talent was his fucking ego.

He carried himself like he was the king of the school, and, unfortunately, most people treated him like it. Girls especially flocked to him – mainly for two reasons: 1) Jeongguk was undoubtedly hot, and 2) he held the promise of a rich future. Personally, I cared for neither of those traits considering his appalling personality and pride.

That damned ego would be his downfall this season. I would make sure of it, I thought as I circled around the stadium and then landed to get a drink.

I was definitely above average on the Quidditch talent scale. Holding the current school record for most assists in a season, I considered myself the glue of the Hufflepuff team – a fact that our Head of House obviously agreed with. However, no one really talked about the glue of a team, they talked about the flashy glitter and the gold stars. I was fine with that. Being the underdog was nothing new to a Hufflepuff, and I planned on using that to our advantage this season. Who said Puffs couldn’t be a little devious?

I smirked to myself as I grabbed my broom, ready to get back to practicing. This would be our fucking year.

“Hey,” a deceptively sweet voice rang out from above me, “You mind sharing the pitch? I need to practice.”

My mood soured. I knew who that was. Kicking off the ground, I flew to face him, “Sure thing, Jeon, just stay out of my way.”

It was almost as if I’d slapped him across the face, “Excuse me?” he choked out, “Do I know you?”

Unbelievable. Jeongguk’s head was evidently so far up his own ass he couldn’t recognize opponents he’d been playing for years. “I guess not,” I countered. And with a flick of my ponytail, I took off towards the opposite end of the pitch.

Unfortunately, he followed, “Are you a Gryffindor? If so, you should come to tryouts tomorrow. You’re pretty fast and we need a new Chaser.”

“Not a Gryffindor,” I called out, dipping low to the ground to scoop up my old practice Quaffle, “But I am a Chaser.”

Jeongguk was still tailing me, and I pulled to a stop to face him, “I thought you had to practice?”

He mirrored my position and crossed his arms. I tried (and failed) to stop myself from noticing how his biceps flexed and how a hint of his famed phoenix tattoo curled up his neck. Merlin, even I couldn’t deny he was hot as fuck. The recent summer months seemed to have blessed his skin with a glowing tan that accentuated the warmth of his dark eyes. It also seemed like he forgot what a haircut was as I watched the wind tousle his slightly curling hair.

“I do,” his eyes were narrowed as he cleared his throat, “I just have to make sure you’re not spying for another team.”

All thoughts of him being fine flew out the Owlery as I scowled. I refused to be intimidated by some arrogant asshole, “Did you not hear me when I said to stay on the opposite end of the pitch, Jeon? What kind of self-respecting spy would ask that?”

“You’re a Slytherin,” Jeongguk declared, his tone too sure for my liking.

He was really aggravating me now, and it took a lot for a Puff to get pissed off, “So, just because I have a semblance of a backbone, I’m a Slytherin? You need to brush up on your House knowledge.”

He was quiet, his expression contemplative, his jaw clenched. His eyes were scanning me with an intensity I was not sure I liked. And then he did something I liked even less: “I propose a game,” his mouth twisted upwards in a smirk, “You say you’re a Chaser?”

I gave a slight tilt of my chin in affirmation. He resumed, “Well, then you must know I’m a Keeper.” He paused, grinning wickedly, waiting for me to react to the double entendre. Eyebrows raised at my pointed silence, he continued, “And we both need to practice… So how ‘bout you try to score on me and for every shot I block you have to answer one of my questions.”

This motherfucker right here. I summoned my inner Helga to give me the strength to deal with this Gryffindor prick, “Say I was to agree to this, what would I get if I score on you?”

The laugh I got in response made all thoughts of remaining a kind and patient Puff evaporate faster than a weak Patronus.

He was still laughing when he noticed I looked ready to Avada him wandless, “Okay, okay. What do you want if you score?” He barely got the words out in between chuckles.

“To come to a Gryffindor practice.”

That shut him up real fast, “No fucking way. I don’t need you distracting my players.”

My nose crinkled, “Distracting? I would just be sitting in the stands, you prick.”

His jaw ticked as he rolled his eyes, “You could be on the furthest corner of the pitch and you’d still distract them, jagi.”

“Don’t call me that. And, pray tell, why I would distract them?” Our brooms were now practically touching as we had instinctively moved closer to one another. I could see the sweat glistening on his brow and the shadow of stubble on his jaw. Merlin, he was potent.

“Because,” Jeongguk paused, acting like this was the most obvious answer in the world, “You’re hot.”

I blinked. And blinked again, “Are you serious?” He opened his mouth to respond. “Nope, don’t answer that, Jeon,” I brushed right over his attempt to answer my rhetorical question, “So, do we have a deal or not? If you’re the esteemed Keeper that you clearly think you are, it shouldn’t be a problem for you to block all my shots, should it?”

My words echoed around us. He looked conflicted, but I knew his ego would not let my challenge go, “Deal. Five shots from the penalty mark.”

He flew towards the goal posts, “Looking forward to getting my questions answered, love,” he bellowed back at me.

I mentally flipped him off as I took off after him, clutching my Quaffle.

Sending out a plea to Merlin, Helga and everyone in between, I pulled to a stop at the penalty mark and pondered how I wanted to play this. He obviously thought he would save all five attempts. I spared him a glance and glower as I notice he was slouching on his broom with a lazy smirk, clearly not taking me as a serious threat.

Fine, I would just have to hustle him. He was asking for it at this point.

I got into formation. As much as it would pain me to mess up this shot on purpose, I knew that I had to in order to make my plan work.

Taking off towards the posts, my movement caused Jeongguk to finally move into a somewhat defensive position. I feigned right, doing so in a way too obvious manner. Hurling the Quaffle towards the top hoop, I watched expectantly as he deflected it with just a slight flick of his hand.

“Come on,” Jeongguk laughed, “You can do better than that, jagi.” He flew over to me and when I stretched to take back the Quaffle he now held in his hand, he shifted it out of reach, “Uh-uh, nope. It’s question time. What’s your name?”

How predictable. “It’s (y/n). Now give me the Quaffle.”

“Last name?” Jeongguk kept the Quaffle out of my hands.

“That’s a separate question, Jeon. You never specified that I give you my full name.” It was my turn to smirk as he threw the Quaffle back at me and headed back to the posts mumbling about loopholes and how I must’ve been a Ravenclaw.

I lined back up for the second shot. I had to make this one a little bit better than the last to show that I was trying, but not too much better that he’d be prepared for my final shots.

I ducked down, twisting around to head towards the right post with my full focus on the hoop. I launched the Quaffle. Jeongguk swooped up to catch it in a way that was entirely too elaborate for such a lame throw. He was clearly showing off – an action that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the meaning behind.

Jeongguk made his way over to me, grinning, “Second question, jagi. Full name, please.”

“(y/f/n) (y/l/n),” I muttered, eyes scanning his face for signs of recognition and hands grabbing the Quaffle away from him.

He looked puzzled, “(y/l/n)? Why does that sound so familiar?”

Before he could think on it further, I pushed his shoulder, “Back to the posts. You got your answer.”

Well, I had attempted to push his shoulder. He didn’t even flinch at my shove. His eyes darted to where my hand now laid on his chest. I removed it faster than a Wronski Feint, trying to ignore the tingles that shot up my arm.

Our eyes connected and his were blazing as his mouth crept into a slow smile, “Like your hands on me.” Before I could formulate a reply, he flew off and I resolved that I would make this next shot as if my life depended on it.

We faced each other. I shifted the Quaffle from hand to hand and took off towards him. I gave him no tells, no feints, nothing. This seemed to throw him off for a split second, but that second was all I needed to send the Quaffle sailing through the bottom hoop.

“What the fuck was that?” Jeongguk yelled as he got all up in my face.

I bit back a smile. “Beginner’s luck?” I quipped, loving how his face had darkened perceptibly, “Don’t worry. I’m sure I can pick up some more tips at your practice.”

Unable to keep my grin in check any longer, I smile widely as he lets out a stream of curses that would make even my old crotchety aunt blush.

We resumed our positions. This time he seemed more alert and watchful. He was getting wary of me, despite my claim that it was just luck. Maybe he knew better after all…

“That won’t happen again, (y/n). Don’t get used to it!” he shouted from the posts.

…Or not.

I took off. Luck be damned. I zigzagged back and forth towards him. Throwing the Quaffle up in the air, I quickly rolled off my broom, sharply grabbing its end and swinging it up to hit the Quaffle mid-air through the center goalpost. A perfectly executed Finbourgh Flick. Regaining my seat on my broom I sailed back to the penalty line and turned back to face Jeongguk.

He looked utterly gobsmacked, “Beginner’s luck? Beginner’s fucking luck? Who the fuck are you?”

I grinned victoriously at his wounded ego, “You know my name, Jeon. Now you can use it at two practices.”

“(y/f/n) (y/l/n), (y/f/n) (y/l/n)… fucking hell, you’re the new Hufflepuff captain,” he gawked at me.

“Bingo, Gryff,” I laughed, “Took you long enough.”

“Why did I think you were a bloke? I would have remembered such a—” he cut himself off, “You hustled me! There is no way I’m letting you into my practices now.”

We were nose to nose now as I responded, “A deal’s a deal. I thought you Gryffindors were all about honor.”

His face was thunderous, “And I thought you Hufflepuffs were all about fairness.”

“We are,” I said plainly, “We just don’t take lightly to intimidation. Now come on, we’ve got one round left.”

A range of emotions moved across his face to settle in a heated look that I couldn’t quite decipher, “Fine, jagi,” his molten gaze darted to my mouth, “Give it your best shot.”

Swallowing hard, I shook my head, trying to clear my brain of entirely too inappropriate thoughts of me and Jeongguk. As much as I attempted to refocus on making my final shot, my attention wasn’t fully there.

And I fucked it up. Jeongguk dove to catch my throw mid-air, and he sped towards me triumphantly, “Slipping already? What was that?”

I blushed. He noticed.

“Come on,” he said, “I need a drink and then you need to answer my last question.”

I followed him to the ground, cursing my treacherous body for reacting so obviously. My subconscious battled:

‘He’s a player!’ the imaginary Dumbledore on my right shoulder boomed.

‘Kiss him. Now!’ hissed the fictitious Voldemort from the other side.

However, all thoughts evacuated my brain at the sight of Jeongguk peeling off his shirt and taking a long sip from his water bottle. My traitorous eyes flew over his torso. I took in his defined abs, his chiseled arms and his fucking beautiful phoenix tattoo that spanned the entirety of his left shoulder, left upper back, and a portion of his neck.

Then I noticed his eyes were watching me right back. And they were all to amused to be innocent… “Are you seducing me?”

He spit out his mouthful of water, laughing, “Why? Is this working for you?”

My eyes now resembled slits as I glared at him, “Is that your last question?”

“No!” His response came so fast I jolted back on impulse, “No, it’s not…”

He trailed off as he prowled towards me. I stepped back. He kept coming. I stepped back further.

“Why are you running, jagi?” his words were too soft and too intense for my liking. I took another step back and bumped up against the stands. His grin in response was predatory as he caged me in between the stands and his body, his arms on either side of my head.

“Nowhere to run now, little Hufflepuff…” he dragged a finger along the hollows of my throat. He definitely felt the rapid pounding of my pulse, his eyes darkening to the point that they almost seemed black.

I glared defiantly at him, refusing to be daunted by his size or his words. He smirked, “Your last question: do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?”

I stopped breathing. He waited, a look of uncertainty flickered on his face so briefly I almost thought I’d imagined it.

That little flare of vulnerability – that should not have been as appealing to me as it was – helped me to regain some of my bearings, “And how much do you want to kiss me? I need a scale of reference.”

He smiled crookedly as he leaned in even further, lips brushing against me as he whispered into my neck, “So fucking bad.”

His tongue darted across my skin as he dragged it up towards my ear. Biting it softly, he murmured, “Well?”

Fuck it all.

My hands latched onto his shoulders and his head snapped up. Raising to my tiptoes, I kissed him. He let out a rough groan, sounding like I was killing him. His hands slid down my body to squeeze my ass before hoisting me up. My legs circled his lean hips as his teeth caught my bottom lip in a faint bite. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling slightly. His hips pressed into mine, drawing a moan from my lips. He smiled against my mouth.

I nipped his lip now in retribution, but it seemed to only urge him on. One hand came up to remove my hair-tie, flinging it over his shoulder. I made a noise of protest, but he just kissed me harder.

How the fuck was he holding me up with one hand?

I prided myself on being a pretty thick bitch, and he was over here acting like I weighed nothing. My fingernails slid down his back, raking over the hard muscles and feeling how they flexed and shifted under my touch.

I don’t know how long we spent making out against the stands, but soon enough we heard voices coming from around the corner. Ripping my mouth away from his, I jumped out of his embrace, landing on shaky legs.

His arm wrapped around my waist as he steadies me. He was breathing just as hard as me and I could feel his heartbeat racing. I tugged away from him to retrieve my hair-tie from the ground and put my now wild hair back into its ponytail.

I could feel Jeongguk’s eyes on me all the while. I looked at him. His lips were swollen, his hair was a disheveled mess, his neck was displaying a rather nice hickey that I was sure was mirrored several times over on my own neck. A rare feeling of pride shot through me, and as he opened his mouth to say something, I shook my head and placed a finger over his lips.

“I’ll see you at your practice, Jeon.” I placed a quick kiss on his cheek, grabbed my broom and walked off.

As I strode away, I heard him grumbling under his breath: “Everybody warns you about the Slytherins. Nobody fucking warns you about the Hufflepuffs. Fucking hell…”

I smiled all the way back to the Common Room.

#bts #bts smut #bts imagine #bts fic #jeongguk #jungkook #bangtan #jjk x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #harry potter au #gryffindor jungkook #jungkook imagine

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intothewickedwood · 3 years

Text

Once Upon A Time Rewatch: 5x22 Only You

Does that mean Storybrooke’s magic is gone now that Rumple has tethered it to the crystal?

Well, I guess he can’t have taken all of it or Regina wouldn’t have been able to teleport etc.

Henry’s relationship with magic is like a freaking rollercoaster. At first, he thinks it’s the best thing in the world, then he hates it so much he wants to destroy it, then it’s the best thing in the world, then he tries to destroy it, then it’s the best thing in the world! But that’s kids for you, I guess! I’m sure I was like that and still can be. Come to think of it, would putting dynamite in the well in season 2 have destroyed magic?

Is that needle that’s put dozens of people under a sleeping curse the same one Maleficent used on Aurora?

Henry’s literally so powerful. I wish he could use his author powers more.

How is taking the crystal out of SB gonna destroy magic in SB?

Oh, so Rumple tethered the magic but didn’t technically absorb it from the town, so they can still use it.

Why can’t Regina text Henry to say that destroying magic would destroy SB? 

Guess they can go over the town line now, for the first time in like forever. But I guess Emma & Regina & Henry could already cross the threshold, possibly Violet too as she didn’t come over with the first curse. And then the others are brought to New York by a portal. 

Oh! So that’s why they can use magic in the lwom? Because Henry brought the crystal aka all the magic of Storybrooke there.

Aww. Henry and Violet are cute. I just wouldn’t recommend reading the Henry and Violet book if you appreciate their relationship in the show.

Oh, thank God. Zelena does promise to bring baby Robin to visit her brother Roland! I need them to have known each other growing up! I bet they’re really close. And Roland is just as sweet as ever and has to stop his sister being reckless. The Hufflepuff to her Slytherin (+ Gryffindor tendencies), if you will. And I need fics where Roland doesn’t grow up to be vengeful and angry. Once a Hufflepuff cupcake, always a Hufflepuff cupcake.

Did Regina agree to Roland going back to Sherwood Forest? I’m surprised she didn’t adopt him. It must have been the Merry Men’s decision because no way would they take orders from Zelena. 

Aww! Roly kissing his baby sis!! I’m gonna miss you Roly!! Literally the most adorable kid! Aww and Granny kisses him on the head too! I die!!

Look at his little mittens!!

I’m guessing he doesn’t know she killed his mama but maybe he knows that she posed as her and in a strange way enjoyed his time with her? I mean, I guess you can say that as Marian Zelena did, at least, take care of Roland and bond with him. Maybe she always wanted to be a mother? Still doesn’t excuse her killing Marian and posing as her. Just trying to make sense of this hug. Maybe Roland is just super forgiving! And you can say it’s cause he’s a child but let me tell you, I was so much less willing to forgive really terrible things as a child than I am now. 

Omg. They all fell so hard through that portal! Ow!

Emma’s genuinely worried Regina’s gonna put a sleeping curse on her.

Baelfire was trying to destroy magic in New York?

Ron used sellotape to try to fix his wand, so why not?

Omg Davis Bloom, love of my life! Well, it’s Hyde but this guy loves to play literal monsters! Listen, before Once Upon a Time, Smallville was my hardcore special interest show. I rewatched it so many times since I was 9! Anyway, Chloe was my favourite character and I’d always been a Chloe x Clark shipper and then Davis came along and Chlavis became my otp. He loved her so much! He gave her the love and attention she deserved! Yes it was messed up but that’s what 12-year-old me was and is here for! My mum and I were so excited when we found out the actor was gonna be in Ouat! I loved Davis to bits and ngl, was highly attracted to him (as was my mama), so excuse me as I continue to be thirsty over Hyde.

Back to the rewatch!

Hyde strangling people is my jam lol.

Snow, my girl, you really can’t keep a secret. She darn told Hyde about the Dark One’s love being pregnant! Oh well, love her anyway. And also, she was 10.

I’ll never forget, I once cut my eye and it legit looked like one of Hyde’s but scarier. It was so frightening to look at and really uncomfortable, but it healed eventually. Gives me the shivers just thinking about it. But it looks cool and sexy on Hyde xD. 

Is that the same book Tilly finds at Henry’s place in 7x14?

Regina: “like with Hook, my first impulse was to rip his throat out.” Jesus Regina! You’re saying that to the woman who just went to the Underworld for Hook and thought she’d lost him forever. He’s someone she loves. That’s intense! As someone who’s been told by a loved one, threateningly, that they are (completely seriously) going to violently kill another loved one, several times, that is so not cool. Luckily no one was killed though, it’s okay. 

I recently read a really interesting meta about Regina’s motivation for redemption being intellectual. Like she says here, she doesn’t want to do good. She hates doing good but she knows that villainous acts won’t get her her happy ending and so she reasons that in order for things to go less awful for her, she must to good. She doesn’t do it because of empathy, guilt or regret, she does it because she figures it’s what the heroes are doing and things are going right for them and because if she goes back to her evil ways she knows she’ll lose Henry and her new and only support network. I think the same can be said for Zelena’s motivations to do good. No shade, just an analysis.

Well at least she’s using the word “I” to express that she did those things. But, she seems more concerned about those things hanging over her than for what she did to her victims and how they felt and suffered.  She even seems more upset at the fact that she has lost a love again than the fact that Robin lost his life and his kids have lost their father.

Hmm. Interesting. She seems to suggest here that before she didn’t know the difference between good and evil. You know what, that could be true because she didn’t really get why people called her the ‘Evil Queen’ and then there’s the fact she was raised by Cora and Henry Sr. Cora probably warped her perception of good and evil and her father positively reinforced a lot of the evil Regina did and didn’t explain to her why the things Cora did and the lessons she taught were wrong.

Why are all those stories in the library? That makes no sense. 

There’s a problem. If the grail is the origin of all magic and Merlin found it around 1500 years before the present (apparently Merlin was a runaway slave too. Of course he flipping was!), how comes Gothel and Seraphina had magic thousands of years ago? I mean, I suppose they were from another land (that Gothel killed almost all the inhabitants of), so I guess people just don’t know magic didn’t originate from the grail. I mean, since the God’s had magic before the grail, and nymphs possibly have relations to gods, I suppose it makes sense that Gothel had magic but then, what about Seraphina? How does she have magic and how did she live so long? Did Gothel cast a spell on her that made her practically immortal or was she already immortal?

Well, that was easy for Rumple lol.

Transforming looks really painful.

The thing is. They shouldn’t have separated Jekyll from Hyde. I think it would have been cooler if they hadn’t. Sure, they can make Jekyll the true villain but why not have the heroes try to save Jekyll as Hyde thwarts their plans at every turn to the point where they have to agonize over hurting Jekyll to defeat Hyde. The same can be said for Regina. Don’t split them up! Just have Regina transform into the Evil Queen so you can’t tell when she’s Regina and when she’s the EQ working on her evil plan. That would’ve been really fun to watch and to try to figure out which persona she was and when! Also, they should have just made Jekyll transform when emotionally compromised rather than when taking the potion because without an assistant Jekyll could have easily lived without Hyde ever returning. 

I hate the look of that wand.

Hydes theme sounds so awesome!

Also, it would have been really cool to explore the Land of Untold Stories. It looks so rad!

How can Hyde summon the portal? Don’t you have to have enough dark magic?! I guess maybe his strength and durability are enhanced by dark magic?

Rumple, I don’t think Belle can here you in that box.

Can I marry Hyde now? I want to marry Hyde. 

#ouat #once upon a time #henry mills #ouat hyde #ouat rewatch #ouat rewatch 2019

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muse-oleum · 4 years

Text

Quiet

Kingsman - Harry Hart x reader

Prompt #54: “You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little thing you are.”*

Damn you guys are at it in those smutty requests, gosh. I’ve got four more on the way! This is the classic office/boss/secretary smut piece, but Kingsman style.

* changed the word “slut” to “thing” just cuz i think it fits HH better

Summary: You’re called up to Harry Hart’s office for an entirely professional matter.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: absolute sinful smut (i repeat: this is super NSFW do not read if you’re underage and/or uncomfortable!!)

Here’s what i listened to writing this.

(obviously i had to pick that gif because holsters are a man’s garters and they’re sexey)

Agent Galahad was stressed.

A stressed Galahad was a dangerous Galahad. A dangerous Galahad was, as Eggsy stoically put it one day when said agent had spent a little too long staring at you, was a horny Galahad.

And agent Galahad had the bad habit of getting just what he wanted.

And right now, what he wanted was you. As one of the techies, you worked mostly below grounds, joining Merlin in monitoring recruits and agents alike in the hope you’d prevent something plainly dumb from happening.

Most people would say that you were just about pretty, but by God, how he wanted you. He’d nurtured a viciously powerful craving for you for months - over a year in fact. A year of flirting, suggestive smiles across debrief rooms, and heated touches in the hallways.

A year of intense slow burn and near misses, where your bathroom encounters were interrupted by a certain Scot who had eyes everywhere.

He was stressed and he had enough. His office was one room in which Merlin didn’t have mechanical eyes salaciously plugged into every corner.

Kingsman agents were not supposed to have trysts, much less lasting ones, but he didn’t care.

Your phone pinged as you were going over some files in need of your attention. Come to my office. Got a file I need you to look over. You smiled.

It appeared that files weren’t the only thing in need of your attention.

Your heels clicked against the marble floor of the Kingsman mansion as you made your way to Harry’s office. You knocked on the door tentatively, fully aware of the longing look you received from the man sat at the desk opposite you.

Harry took in your appearance, his eyes roaming over your long, shapely legs, up to the knee length pencil skirt you wore. It hugged in your hips, outlining every curve he was so desperate to taste.

“I have a mission coming up. I’ll be gone several weeks.”

His eyes had darkened, his pupils dilating almost immediately as he saw you enter the room fully, closing the door behind you.

“The file?”

Your arched eyebrow was staring right back at him, daring him to even pretend that there was any file to begin with.

He stood up, edging his way towards you. Backing you up against the door, he gently took the clipboard you still clutched against your chest, setting it aside.

“There isn’t any file,” he said in a low voice, his hand skimming the hem of your skirt, thumbs brushing the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitched. His hand found the band of your garter. “I needed you,” he breathed against your lips, his eyes never leaving yours. Nimble fingers made quick work of the clip, exposing more creamy skin to his caresses.

He pressed you up against the wall beside the door, his other hand by the side of your head. You forgot everything as he crashed his lips on yours, a loud moan escaping you. You felt his hands edge closer and closer to your core, fingers already toying with the lace of your panties.

As he ended the kiss, attempting to catch his breath, you took the opportunity to stall the progress of his hand. He was no stranger to your tricks. That and Merlin’s continued interrupting was what had him practically prostate with lust right now. Your firm grip on his wrist discouraged him from trying to reach the object of his desire… until he caught your eye.

It was very suggestive glance, that one, and it set his loins on fire. You bit your lips as you glanced down to where his hand disappeared under your skirt, signifying what you wanted.

And what you wanted was his mouth working on you, right here, right now.

Many would have said that Harry Hart was a controlling man, who liked to be in charge. But if his woman wanted him to relieve that particular ache that he had created, there was no stopping him doing just as she wished.

You turned the key in the lock, arresting his gaze momentarily on your fingers.

What he wanted these fingers to do to him was positively sinful. But all things in good time, he was reminded when your hips rolled up against the wall and you drew in a sharp breath. He noticed your nipples straining against the fabric of your blouse, begging for his attention.

In his slow descent towards your navel, Harry’s hand dropped to caress the soft skin behind your knee. He grew frustrated with the clasps of your garters, growling as his shaking fingers struggled with pulling your tights down. One by one he took off your heels, dropping them unceremoniously on the ground. With your height newly reduced, your midriff was now directly in front of his face. You could feel his hot breath through the fabric of your skirt. His hands ascended back up your body, settling one on your hips and the other full on your breast. His Kingsman ringlet caught against the hard press of your nipple, causing you to whimper.

Harry pushed your skirt back up all the way to your hips, his lips trailing a blaze of kisses on your inner thigh. HIs thumb went to caress your nub, rubbing against the material of your panties. Pressure was steadily building inside of you. You felt his mouth press against your core, sucking and pulling on you. You couldn’t control the moans of pleasure and the undulating of your hips into his hand.

Grabbing hold of your leg, Harry looked up at you, hair messed up and cheeks red. “Careful, darling,” he said, his thumb running over your nipple, “you’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little thing you are.”

That alone sent you spiralling down in pleasure, the ministrations of his fingers and lips putting every nerve in your body into high alert. When he was finished with you, Harry’s desire was almost painful. He tugged you down harshly, catching you before you hit the floor, still panting out your pleasure.

Immediately, his lips found yours, stifling his own moans as you pressed against him.

“Harry…” he bit your neck, “Harry,” he moaned loudly as your hand plunged into his pants. His whole being was stretched towards you, signifying his lust in every manner his body knew how. “I need you now.”

“Not before I’ve seen you,” he growled, one hand kneading your bottom to keep you rocking into him, the other tugging at each button on your blouse, uncovering the lacy purple bra you were wearing.

It was the same color as those lovely panties he’d so enthusiastically destroyed minutes ago.

Not wasting any time, Harry dove in, his mouth and hands divesting you of your blouse and bra, leaving you exposed to his eyes.

The hungry shine of his pupils made you go weak at the knees, sinking more of your weight onto him.

Cupping your right breast, he suckled and pulled on your nipple, enjoying the feel of such sensitive skin demanding more of him. He’d always thought one of the sexiest things about a woman’s figure was her bosom, not least because it was one of the only visible indication of a woman’s desire. And yours were perfect indeed, designed to challenge every ounce of self-control he still possessed.

Ignoring his earlier comment, you couldn’t control your moans and whimpers. Finally, after he had brought you back up from your first release, Harry laid you down on the floor underneath him, all but moaning shamelessly as his hips crashed repeatedly against yours.

You smirked. You had him where you wanted him.

Your hand reached down, grabbing hold of his length. He bucked at that, biting his lips to avoid shouting your name. He could feel every touch of your fingers on his straining member, every caress, and when you smiled that wicked smile up at him, he simply knew he had to be inside of you.

One look from you told him you’d reached the end of your patience. Without delay, Harry’s hand found your core once more, basking in your warmth as he slipped inside you. The sensation - one both of you had been craving for months - was heart-stopping. You felt more than heard Harry’s deep moan, adjusting to the feeling of him inside of you.

Encouraging him to begin, you pressed up against his hips, your hands snaking around his waist to secure yourself to him. He began to rock against you, drawing longer whimpers out of you every time he thrust back. His hands were busy with attacking your breasts, feeling your softness just as he shared your warmth down where your bodies were joined. He was enticed by the pretty blush which had settled on your chest; by the vision you presented with your tightly shut eyes and lips tightly sealed.

As pleasure overcame him, he swore the next time, he’d make love to you somewhere where, preferably, he could hear just how much you enjoyed his attention.

If you’re still here and not blushing, congratulations, you have joined the HH smut club. Comment down below if you want to be added to the HH taglist! That way, you don’t miss anything ;)

Taglist: @justawriterinprogress; @tonystrksslut; @emilyyblackkk; the-sea-belt;

#prompts #requests #writing #fandom #kingsman #kingsman: the secret service #kingsman: the golden circle #harry hart #agent galahad #harry hart x reader #harry hart x fem!reader #agent galahad x reader #agent galahed x fem!reader #original work #//smut #//nsfw #//suggestive

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rons-hermiones · 3 years

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Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Forty

Hermione’s eyes widened at the feeling of the hand clamped over her face.

At first, she’s absolutely terrified that they’ve come for her and someone’s muffling the screams she no longer knows if she’s capable of.

For a second she thinks it could be Ron as he’s nearby and he’s silencing her to keep from giving them away to some evil outside the Burrow.

However as her eyes adjust to the darkness, under the moon shining through Ron’s attic window, she makes out a pair of two familiar eyes.

Ones she only saw in Malfoy Manor.

Soft, misty eyes. A pair she doubted she’d ever see again.

Slowly, she pulls her hand off Hermione’s mouth and presses a finger to her lips, indicating her to keep quiet.

With a swish of an unfamiliar wand Hermione recognizes the movements of a silencing charm.

Unknown to everyone but one Molly Weasley, is that a simple muffalito has no effect within the walls of Ron’s room. The matron was worried her son may succumb to the brunette's request of casting a silencing charm for the sake of everyone else after her screaming tonight. Even though it bothered no one in the house, Molly knew the girl well enough to know she thought of herself a burden. Not to mention, Mrs. Weasley is pretty sure Ron would do whatever she asked of him.

“Hello dear.” She whispered as a precaution.

“Ci-Cissy?” Hermione choked out, tears pooling in her eyes.

And before she could register the pain of such an action, she’s flinging her arms around the older woman’s slender frame and squeezes her tightly.

In turn, Narcissa finds herself crying quietly into the witch’s shoulder.

Once gathering her bearings a bit she breaks the silence. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Narcissa says with a chuckle.

Under her, she feels Hermione shake in what she thinks would be a laugh, had she not been in such a state.

“Well I have something that belongs to you as well, you see-”

“Let go of her now!”

Instantly, the pair's eyes snapped to the occupant of the voice.

Ron Weasley was towering over them, standing tall at a scary six foot four. His wand is drawn as deep raspy breaths escape him. Chest rising and falling at an intense rate. Hermione thinks she can see his knuckles whitening from the tight hold.

At his words, Narcissa pulled away from Hermione and held her hands in surrender as the young girl shook her head vigorously.

“Move away. Move.” He spat.

“Look, I’m not here to-“

“I don’t care! Move!” He screamed.

“R-Ron.” She cried.

When his blue eyes found her, he swore she was looking at him almost longingly. He couldn’t help but scrunch his brow in confusion.

“Please.” She mouthed.

“I won’t let her touch you love. I won’t.” He promised with such ferocity no one would dare challenge it.

“N-no!” She tried to exclaim.

This made his hold on his wand falter a bit as he grew puzzled.

It was Narcissa’s name she was groaning in her sleep. It was this woman, a Malfoy, who was causing her anguish. Probably the same haunting face that woke her in a fit of screams.

“I don’t understand.” He said to Hermione, feeling stupid for it after the fact, knowing there was a threat standing in between him and her. And now said threat would see him as some bumbling idiot.

Merlin he can’t fail again, he can’t.

“I’m not here to hurt any of you. Least of all Hermione, never Hermione.” Narcissa spoke up, standing from the bed, hands still raised.

“Shut up! Don’t say that, you hurt her! You’re a monster!” He doesn’t realize, but hot, wet tears are leaking out of his blue eyes.

“Hurt her? You think I’d hurt her? I’m the one who got her out of there, how do you think my wand-”

He let out a bitter laugh, “If you’re so helpful then why did it take four bloody months, eh?” He taunted.

Narcissa was growing angry, more at herself then this boy, because in a lot of ways, he was right. It had taken her too long to get Hermione out. So much had happened to her in those four months and her pain could be cut in half had she acted faster.

She stepped closer to speak, but in response, Ron lifted his wand to her nose.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Hermione, disarm him so we can have a civil conversation.” Cissy says calmly, though her voice shakes.

“No w-wand.” She squeaks.

“No wand?” Narcissa says, eyeing Ron, who now looks nervous. “Is it because-”

A sudden knock on the door brings everyone in the attic to a standstill.

“Ronnie?” Molly Weasley’s voice broke from behind the wood door.

Narcissa hurriedly tip-toed to the left of the door, looking to Ron’s conflicted eyes and bringing a finger to her lips. Next, his gaze found Hermione who seemed to be mouthing ‘please’ over and over, her eyes glossy under the moonlight.

“Ronald open up or I’m coming in.” She said from the other side.

Sparing one last glance at Hermione, he tucked his wand into his waistband and with a deep breath flung open the door and stepped into the hallway. Carefully he shut it behind him.

“Is everything okay dear? I thought I heard voices.”

He gulped, “Y-yeah.” He swallowed hoping to wet his dry throat, “Hermione she-uh, she had another nightmare.”

“Oh no.” Molly began to push past him until he jumped in front of the door knob.

“No!” He said a bit too harshly, “I just mean, I think she’s overwhelmed, you know? I think I can handle this Mum.” He said gently.

And surprisingly, his mother doesn’t disagree like he expected her to. Instead, a proud smile struck her lips as her eyes softened considerably.

“I’m so proud of you Ronnie.” She whispers, hands reaching out to cradle his face. “You’ve taken tremendous care of Hermione, you’re just so grown up I suppose. The way you are with her- I’m just beyond proud of you dear.” Molly says misty eyed.

“Thanks Mum.” He says with red cheeks.

Behind the door, Narcissa Malfoy is smiling.

Mrs. Weasley squeezes him tightly before pulling away and wiping at her eyes. “I’m downstairs if you need anything, okay? I love you Ronnie, Hermione too.” With that, she kisses his cheek and walks down the steps.

He waits until he hears the faint sound of his parents door clicking close before pulling out his wand again and entering his bedroom.

There he finds Narcissa standing in the middle of his orange room, her eyes looking like they're full of love with tears threatening to spill over. She looks like anything but a Malfoy, such a stark contrast from Bellatrix. Looking at her here he’s more reminded of Andromeda, a soft spoken soul full of love. All things he would never associate with the mother of the greatest git at Hogwarts and wife to a Death Eater.

“Now I understand what Hermione was trying to tell me.” She whispered with a ghost of a smile on her lips.

Momentarily his grip falters as he begins lowering his wand, but then he remembers. This is probably a part of her plan. Gain his trust then kick his legs out from under him while he’s weak and more importantly, go at Hermione while she’s weak.

Still, he does want to know what she means…

“Nevermind that! Tell me how you got here.” He demands.

...

“The Burrow?” Andromeda questioned, “that’s… no! I can’t Molly and Arthur- no Cissy, I’m sorry.” She began pacing as she shook her head frantically.

“Please Andi, I need to see Hermione.” She begged.

“Hermione? Hermione Granger?” She questioned, even more confused than she was before.

“That’s right.” Narcissa nods confidently.

“But why?”

The younger of the two sighs. She nervously begins to wring her hands together as she paces the expanse of the room.

Then something dawned on Andromeda, “Hold on, does Hermione Granger have your wand?”

The look on Cissy’s face says it all.

“Narcissa what in the bloody hell is Hermione Granger doing with your wand? The girl is off at Hogwarts and the wards there- they’re impossible to get through!” She rants.

“Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t been in touch with Nymphadora?”

“Dora? What’s she got to do with all of this?” Andromeda questioned, but the look on her sister's face told her that the answer was crucial to the story, so she carried on. “Her and Remus were supposed to spend New Year’s with Ted and I but she got sent off on an assignment. She said it was for the Auror’s and not The O-” She caught herself.

Narcissa huffed with a roll of her eyes, “I know about The Order Andi, I’m not daft! Just carry on.”

The brunette rolled her eyes in return. It was almost nice to bicker. It felt normal. It felt like it did so long ago.

“Right so she said she had a case down in Cornwall. Some investigation, we owled of course, but she didn’t come back until February. Ted and I traveled to Amsterdam for our anniversary which is in late February, we were there for a few weeks. Dora is meant to come to dinner here within the week.”

“Alright.” Cissy nodded, “Alright that makes sense.”

“Sense with what Cissy?” Andromeda asked impatiently.

“Christmas night Hermione Granger was kidnapped from the Weasley’s home.”

The other woman grew pale, horror striking her features.

“It was Bella. Bella took her back to my estate in Wiltshire.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, tone filled with nothing but shame.

“Kidnapped? She’s just a child, Narcissa! Merlin- how long?” Andi asked, pinching the end of her nose.

“Three, four months.” Andromeda had to strain her ears to even hear the response.

“Months? This went on for months and you knew!”

“I know okay? I tried- I swear, I tried to get her out.” Cissy promised with tears brimming her eyes.

The brunette took a deep breath, calming considerably. “At least tell me she’s not there anymore. Tell me the girl is okay.”

Narcissa wiped almost violently at her eyes and took a big sniff, “That’s why I’m here, I had nowhere else to go. They’re bound to figure it out eventually. Lucius is too caught up in himself to realize I was lying but Bella- if she doesn’t know yet, she will soon.”

“Know what?” Her brown eyes were swimming for answers.

“That I was the one who helped Hermione escape. That’s why she has my wand.”

Andromeda gasped. When Narcissa turned up at her door she was so overcome with a sense of familiarity and love she didn’t even spare a second to think what kind of trouble she may be in. Or the possibility that she was done with that life. With her awful husband and his awful beliefs.

Could it be?

“But why?” It’s all Andromeda could come up with.

As she peered at her sister's weathered features, she saw tears running out of her blue eyes.

“Because it was so wrong Andi.” Narcissa practically blubbered, succumbing to sobs.

And like they were little girls again, Andromeda knew all Cissy needed right now was a hug from her big sister.

She engulfed her slender frame and slowly began stroking her brunette-blonde hair. Telling her everything was alright and ensuring she did the right thing.

After a few moments, Narcissa gathered her bearings.

“You were right.” She choked, “I’ve known for years but part of me always held out some hope, Bella… she's gone.” Her voice cracked over the nickname.

Andromeda just frowned, she accepted the fact during the first war, but she knew that part of Narcissa always thought that maybe somehow, someway, they could all become the family they once were. That they could all be sisters again.

“She ordered them to do terrible- unspeakable things to a young girl.” Suddenly her features stiffened into that of anger, “And when she wasn’t laughing at those inhumane acts, she was firing curse after curse at Hermione. The cruciatus, she- she doesn’t even speak anymore.”

Tears began leaking again out of both womens eyes.

“I took care of her every night. I snuck her potions. I read to her. I fed her. I held her. I made sure her brain wouldn’t turn to mush. I even told Bella to stop.” She inhaled, “But none of it mattered. I took too long. They killed her parents! I should’ve got her out sooner, I’m just as bad as the rest of them, I’m-” Her words caught in her throat as she grew hysterical.

Andromeda gripped her shoulders, “Stop.” She said a little forcefully, but Narcissa just continued to cry. “Cissy look at me.” She demanded.

Thankfully, her sister stopped shaking momentarily to fulfill the request.

“You never have and will never be a monster, okay? You did what was right in the end and that’s all that matters. Hermione isn’t there anymore.”

Narcissa closed her eyes and began trembling under Andromeda’s hold.

“Hey.” She called, causing her to open her eyes again, “you’re my sister. You always have been and you always will be. If I thought you were anything like Bella I wouldn’t have let you in. I know your heart is good.”

Slowly, Cissy nodded, calming a bit at the sentiment.

“I love you.” Andi said.

“I love you too.” Narcissa responded, “You’re my family and it's just-” she swallowed, “I’m so happy to be here with you but Hermione she- she’ll never have that again.” Cissy hoped the statement conveyed what she met as if she said more, she would’ve probably broken down again.

“That’s why it’s so important I get you into The Burrow, huh?” Andromeda smiled.

Cissy smiled back.

Even after all this time, they still knew each other so well.

...

“Tell me.” Ron Weasley demanded of her.

Cissy shook her head. She was briefly lost in a daze remembering all the details of the past few days.

“My sister, Andromeda, has access to the wards. She comes to have tea with your Mother a few times a week.” She like it was simple.

Ron scrunched his brow, not connecting the dots.

“We apparated outside of the wards so no one would hear. Andi and I performed some old blood spell we found in one of our mothers old books. Did it when we were younger, it connects you for a finite amount of time only works if you’re blood related. She stepped through the wards and I held onto her, we had no issues. I reckon she’s still crouching behind that old tree in your orchard.” She explained.

“So your sister, she doesn’t well-uh-”

“Hate me?” Narcissa asked knowingly, “No.” She answered. “It’s always been different for us than it was with Bella.”

The mention of the name involuntarily made Hermione shutter as a whimper escaped her.

At the sound Ron turned to envelope her in a hug, just to find Narcissa already doing it. He was about to pull out his wand to do something, but to his surprise, Hermione was welcoming to the embrace, burrowing into her robes.

He notices Narcissa holding her closer and he opens his mouth to tell the woman to take it easy, but Hermione winces instead, making her jump away.

The young witch moves her hand to her ribs hoping to ease some pain.

“What did you do? Ron accuses, sitting down next to Hermione, gently rubbing her back. At the action the brunette tries to offer a small smile, but the keyword here is tries.

He wonders if he’ll ever see a proper smile from her again.

“I have a book for Hermione in my robes. The corner must’ve dug into her ribs. If they’re still sore you should consider casting a-”

“No!” Ron yelps, making her jump, “sorry love” He whispers after the fact.

“So I was right then?”

The ginger eyes the woman, unsure what she means.

“She can’t use magic.”

Before he can even react Hermione musters all of her strength to shrug his arm off of her.

“L-liar.” She said saldy.

Technically he didn’t lie because it never exactly came up, but he knew that wasn’t an adequate response or excuse. Ron from five months ago might’ve said that, but he’s done a lot of growing up in that time.

And the look of pain on her face breaks his heart, especially knowing he caused it. Especially after he swore to himself and to her all those nights in St. Mungo’s that he’d never hurt her again.

“I don't know how to tell you Mione. Please believe me, please. I just- I didn’t want to hurt you anymore then I have already, okay? It fucking kills me seeing you like this darling. Please, I’m so sorry. Don’t let me lose you again.” He pleaded, forgetting Narcissa was even in the room.

A tear fell down her cheek, he swiped it gently with his thumb and relaxed the slightest when she allowed him to do so.

“It’s not forever, I promise. You’re still a brilliant witch, it doesn’t make you any less magical, okay?”

He watched as her eyes slowly roved to her bandaged arm, thinking about the vile term underneath.

Mudblood.

Anger momentarily bubbled within him thinking of the scar, but he pushed it down. He tilted her chin to look into his eyes, “Don’t think about that, please. You’re the Brightest Witch of Our Age. Nothing will ever change that, believe me alright? It’s just for a little while, I’m so sorry I lied Mione. I just- I hate to see you upset. I was being selfish and-”

Hermione cut him off by placing a gentle hand over his mouth.

It was so much to take in, but Ron has been so lovely. Her moment of hurt was overshined by all the tender moments they’ve shared lately. And right now her brain is working in overdrive.

Hatred for Bellatrix and all she’s taken from her. The thought of never performing a spell again. Would they kick her out of Hogwarts?

Then she remembers Narcissa is here, Ron too, and right now she needs to focus on this before she explodes. Maybe Cissy has answers. She prays she does.

When she moves her hand a ghost of a smile plays on Ron’s lips, thankful for the sign of forgiveness.

“L-later.” she mumbled.

He nodded in understanding, hand reaching for hers.

Cissy watches the scene feeling her heartbreak for Hermione but also swell at the evident love between them. Then she remembers what event sparked the conversation in the first place.

“I have something for you. Something you left behind.”

Ron opens his mouth to protest, she needs no reminders of Malfoy Manor. Ever.

“Trust me.” Cissy whispers.

From her black robes she pulls out a large book.

The words Hogwarts, A History are printed on the binding.

It looks a lot like the copy Bill and Charlie gave him. There’s even a tea stain on the- shite.

With watery eyes, Narcissa places it in front of the pair. “I don’t believe you ever got to properly read this, huh dear?” She asked with a watery smile.

Ron glances to gauge Hermione’s reaction. Her bottom lip is quivering and he sees a lone tear escape her brown sparkling eyes.

But for the first time in a long time, he knows those tears weren’t ones of pain.

As her shaking hand skims the leatherbound book she suddenly feels different.

She’s not thinking of Bellatrix or Greyback or her parents. She’s thinking about how she’s here with Ron and Cissy and she feels an overwhelming sense of love coming from them. From this book, what it means, who gave it to her and who brought it back to her.

When she opens to the text, she spots the familiar scrawl in the front, running her fingers over the worn out ink and splotches from her salty tears.

Hermione,

I’m so sorry for everything that's happened. I’ve hurt you and for that I’ll never truly forgive myself. You know I’ve never been good with words, but I once told you I wouldn’t read this book for anything, but I did. For you. I hope you enjoy my rendition of Hogwarts, A History and I hope this can help show you how much you mean to me, how much I miss you, if only a little. I hope one day you can forgive me. Until then I’ll be waiting. Always.

Happy Christmas

Yours, Ron.

She spent the worst nights of her life bent over this book. It gave her hope to someday get back to Ron. To make things right.

But reading it this time was different.

Instead of longing to see Ron again she turns and he’s there.

His arms tighten around her and she swears she hears him sniffle and feels him press a light kiss to her hair.

And she knows that this is what healing feels like.

“Thank you.” Her voice is cracked, but it's the strongest she’s sounded in months.

Ron’s heart swells in his chest. He peers over at Narcissa Malfoy, who like him, is crying, and the two exchange soft smiles.

In that moment Ron decides: maybe Narcissa Malfoy isn’t so bad after all.

...

Hermione falls asleep on Ron’s chest, the book slanted in her lap. She’s calmer than she’s been in a while. No furrowed brows or pained groans. He keeps a gentle hand running through her hair, telling himself it’s keeping her sound asleep and it’s not just because her hair is so damn soft.

“I wish I could have gotten her to sleep like that in the Manor. I wish I would’ve done more.” Narcissa’s voice breaks from where she sits on Harry’s camp bed.

Ron just stares at her for a few moments before coming to a decision. One he’s reluctant about, but knows it's best for Hermione.

“You can stay here.”

The woman looks in shock.

“Hermione would be upset if you left without a proper goodbye and I reckon there’s a lot you need to tell me, but not now. The sun will be up within the hour and I’m knackered.” He tells her, eyes averted to his Chudley Cannons poster.

“I’m sure your parents wouldn’t be pleased with someone so closely involved with the Dark Lord under their roof.” She says quietly.

“You’re done with that though?” He snaps, hand moving for his wand.

“I am.” She assures with a nod, “I have been for a while.”

Ron relaxes and lets out a breath. “Alright then. I’ll explain it to Mum and Dad eventually, but now isn’t right.”

Cissy nods again, “I’ll send a patronus to Andromeda, she’s still waiting in the orchard.” She explains taking out her wand, her true wand.

A wispy swan glides elegantly from the tip of her wand and disappears as blueish white hues disappear out his window.

“I’m going to bed.” Is all he says before blowing the candle on his bedside out and throwing the covers over both him and Hermione.

He stays awake for a while though, worried Narcissa may try something. But eventually her breathing evens out and he’s too exhausted to stand guard any longer, so he succumbs to sleep knowing he’ll need his rest for all the answers to come tomorrow.

Ones that are sure to break his heart.

...

Green flames explode in the fireplace as a figure stumbles out.

They brush the ash off and step into the Burrow’s living room.

“Oh you’re early!” Molly exclaims as she comes near the fireplace, still in her slippers. “Hermione had a nasty nightmare so she’s up in the attic with Ron. It was a long night, so I reckon they’re still asleep. Go wake Ronnie at least, let Hermione rest.” She told them.

With a nod, the figure took the familiar trek to Ron’s bedroom, not even bothering to knock before entering.

Meant by the sight of Ron and Hermione curled around each other and an overwhelming sense of heartbreak and warmth flooded them. Heartbreak of knowing why they ended up that way, because of the nightmares, but warmth at seeing the look of content across their serene faces as they laid in one another's arms.

But then he saw something.

A third figure laid atop of the sheets of the camp bed tucked against the wall.

Pulling out their wand they steadily positioned it, ready to curse whoever the mysterious occupant may be.

But before they make it across the room, the figure bolts upright, seeming to have heard the heavy footsteps.

And for the first time, Narcissa Malfoy is face to face with the infamous Harry Potter.

#Ron and Hermione #Ron Weasley #rons-hermiones come find me #ron x hermione #Hermione Granger #romione fanfic #romione #hp fanfic #hp #sixth year

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geekybisexualwriter · 4 years

Text

Dream(James Potter x gender neutral!Reader)

Pairings: James Potter x reader, (minor)Wolfstar

Words: 1746

Y/N = your name

Y/M/N = your middle name

Y/L/N = your last name

Y/F/I = your first initial

*Note: they are 16*

“Tellmetellmetellme-” James smirks at them.

“No, James.” Y/N sighs. The truth was, they had a massive crush on him for years, and Marlene let slip that they had a crush. Not ideal.

“But come onnnn…” James smirks at them, running a hand through his hair.

Y/N glares at him, blushing lightly. “I’m going to the library,” they say, standing up. “Anyone want to come?”

Lily nods, standing up as well. “Yeah, I have a Transfiguration paper.”

Y/N smiles and they start walking out, not aware of the disappointed frown on James’ face as he watches them walk away from him.

After a few hours filled with writing furiously and internally(and outwardly) cursing certain professors, Y/N finally leaned back in their chair, watching the snow fall outside the window, smiling softly and letting their mind wander to a certain messy haired Gryffindor. Lily looks up from her book and smirks. “You thinking about him?”

Y/N jumps and almost falls out of their chair and stares at her, blushing. “Who?”

Lily chuckles. “You know.”

“I do not.”

“James.”

Y/N blushes more, if possible. “What about him?”

“You like him.”

“Sure, as a friend.”

“And as a crush.”

Y/N sighs, too tired to fight it. “Fine. Yeah, I do. But I can’t tell him! He’d laugh and then tell me that he only sees me as a friend. Or tell me that we can’t even be friends-”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Lily says, cutting them off. “He wouldn’t do any of that.”

“Yeah, I guess you might be right, he wouldn’t laugh, he would just tell me that we will only ever be friends.” Y/N nods thoughtfully and disappointed. “I mean, he’s basically in love with you.”

Lily shakes her head, laughing. “James was never in love with me.”

“But he asks you out literally all the time.”

“‘All the time?’ When was the last time that he flirted with me?”

Y/N opens up their mouth to answer, but then realizes they don’t know.

Lily nods. “See? And he only loved the idea of me, not me myself. But you know who he does love romantically?”

Y/N shakes their head.

“You.”

They laugh. “No way. He only loves me as a friend, like he’s done since forever.”

Lily smirks. “You’ve never really seen the way he looks at you, have you? He looks at you like you’re his entire world. Which you are.”

“He’s looked at Sirius the same way.”

Lily sighs. “There really will be no way to convince you, will there?”

Y/N shrugs. “Nope.”

*THAT NIGHT*

“Mr. Potter, you will be paired up with… Y/L/N.” Professor McGonagall announces and then continues with the rest of the partners.

12-year-old James frowns in disappointment, he really wanted to be with Sirius or Lily or Remus. He’d even be ok with Peter. He looked over at his future partner, who was yawning slightly and looking at him, a bit intrigued.

The first thought he had when he first saw them? ‘They’re actually really cute.’ But he liked Lily. He didn’t like them. He didn’t even know them. But he still smiled and walked over. “Hi there, I’m James Fleamont Potter, the star chaser for the best team in school. And you are?”

Y/N looks up and grins at him, chuckling a little. “I’m Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, the star of not giving a crap about that.” They hold out their hand to shake and James takes it, laughing.

“Oh, I like you already.”

The scene of the two hands shaking swirls around, goes out of focus, and settles on the sight of leaves falling down from trees outside of Honeydukes.

Chatter and laughter float through the air. That was definitely one of his favorite sounds, but over it all, 13-year-old James loved the sound of one voice in particular, who was gushing over their new chocolate frog card.

“I got an Agrippa card! Can you believe it, James? It’s like, the most famous and hard to get one! (Author’s note: I dunno if this is true)” Y/N grins excitedly.

He shakes himself out of his stupor and shakes his head. “Nope! Maybe it’s a fake and you’re tricking me.”

Y/N laughs. “Come on. If one of us is going to trick the other into thinking they have a rare card, it would definitely be you.”

“Or maybe you’re trying to convince that to be the case to throw me off!” James exclaims triumphantly, grinning.

Y/N rolls their eyes. “Oh Merlin. I can not believe how jealous you are.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“Uh huh.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah, you looooove me.”

James laughs and shoves them lightly, ignoring the light blush that blossomed for some reason. “As if.”

The sound of laughter fades out and the sound of a page turning fades in.

“Come on James, we gotta finish this.” 14-year-old Y/N sighs.

“But Minnie absolutely LOVES me, I’m sure she’ll give me an extension.” James laughs.

Y/N glares at him. “Well, I gotta finish this. Quit distracting me.”

“But I’m boooored!” James sighs dramatically.

“Go bother Sirius then.”

“He’s bothering slash flirting with Remus.”

“Ok, then go bother Peter.”

“He’s eating somewhere, and he looks slightly scary whenever he does that.”

“Then go bother Lily, ask her out, or whatever.” Y/N frowns, not wanting to ask that but also really needing to finish this deadline.

“She’s with Snivellis.” James wrinkles his nose. Partially, that was a lie, he probably definitely would have still bothered her even if Snape was around.

Y/N sighs and looks at him. “Give me twenty minutes.”

James grins. “Yes! You’re the best, I love you!”

Y/N blushes darkly. “Um, as a friend though right?”

James nods, blushing as much if not more than them. “Y-yeah, of course. Obviously.” He chuckles nervously.

Y/N nods as well, disappointed but determined not to show it.

The disappointed look in Y/N’s eyes disappears and an excited look replaces it.

“That’s amazing! I knew it!” 15-year-old Y/N grins at Remus and Sirius, who are holding hands and grinning as well. “Not to mention…” Y/N looks at James, a smirk on their face.

James groans and fishes out ten galleons from his wallet. “Couldn’t you guys be oblivious cowards for another year?” He hands them to Y/N, grumbling under his breath.

Sirius chuckles. “Now it’s your turn.”

Y/N looks at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

Sirius gives her a look. “Come on. We all know.”

They shake their head. “Nope. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sirius sighs. “The fact that you two idiots are deeply in love with each other and won’t admit it.”

James and Y/N’s eyes widen and they’re cheeks are immediately colored in a deep red. They both stutter, trying to think of a witty comeback while Remus and Sirius laugh.

“Well, that certainly shut them up.” Remus snickers.

Finally, Y/N and James regain their speaking ability.

“James is madly in love with Lily, not me.” Y/N protests

“Yeah!” James agrees, not bothering to mention his heart wasn’t really in it anymore when he asked ‘Evans’ out.

“Uh huh.” Sirius and Remus say in unison

“I knew it,” James mutters. “I knew that when people got together, they would become telepathic. Y/N, we should get together just for the pranks.”

Y/N forces a laugh out, struggling to ignore the pain that that comment caused her. “Yeah, that’s actually not a terrible thought.”

The dream fades to black

James wakes with a start, smiling to himself, thinking of one person. The person who he cared about the most.

Y/N.

He goes through the motions of waking up(taking a shower, brushing his teeth, etc.) with a grin.

Sirius smirks. “What’s got you so happy?”

“I’m a man in love, Padfoot.”

“So you and Y/N finally confessed to each other>”

“No… not yet anyway. I’m planning on doing it later today.”

“Ah. Mind if I make a few bets? I mean, I already did, but I lost some so I’m going to make some more.”

“Yeah, sure- wait what?”

Y/N was sitting in McGonagall’s class, taking notes every so often when they feel a pair of eyes watching them. They turn around to see a smirking James Potter, looking at them with an intensity that made them blush fiercely. They frown and take out a small piece of parchment.

Why are you staring at me? Are you planning something?

-Y/F/I

They throw the letter at James who catches it and opens it up with a grin. He immediately starts writing back.

Y/F/I,

Yeah, I’m planning something. You caught me.

Love, J

Y/N blushes slightly at the use of ‘love’ right before he signed his name, but shakes it off. ‘Just a friend…’ They remind themselves.

Well? What are you planning? Also, you still haven’t answered my first question.

-Y/F/I

Y/F/I,

Meet me after the rest of the classes today. I promise I’ll explain everything.

Love, J

P.S. You look nice today.

‘Ok, now he’s being an asshole. Making me all flustered just so he can make fun of me later…’ Y/N sighs and picks up her quill.

Fine. Tree by the Black Lake?

-Y/F/I

Y/F/I,

Can’t wait.

Love, J.

Hours later, after begrudgingly making a mental note to complete a History of Magic essay, Y/N makes their way to the Black Lake, to the tree where James is resting against, smiling softly.

“James?”

“Y/N,” he looks up and his eyes brighten. “Hey. I missed you.”

“We just saw each other like a few hours ago.” They chuckle.

“I know, but still,” James says, completely serious for once in his life.

Y/N blushes and sits down. “So. Care to explain why you were making me flustered? Was it just another one of your pranks so that you could make fun of me?” Y/N looks at him, eyes with a hint of anger and hurt.

James’ eyes widen. “No! Of course not! I’d never do that to you.”

“Then why were you?!”

“Because I’m definitely in love with you!”

Y/N was about to have a comeback but then hears it. “R-really?”

“Yeah. I think I have for a while, but I only just now realizes it this morning.” He confesses. “But you probably don’t like me back, I can go-” He moves to stand up

“No, wait! I-I’m definitely in love with you too.” Y/N gives him a smile.

James sits back down and kisses them. “I’m so happy.”

“Me too.”

#james potter x reader #harry potter #marauders x reader #harry potter x reader #hp x reader #wolfstar #fanfic #x reader #marauders era #marauders #harry potter x reader fanfic #james potter one shot #james potter fanfic'#fanfiction #vivaciousviolet

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pufflyhallows · 5 years

Text

Comforting Enough

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Request: May I request an imagine where George and the reader have been close for many years, her father being friends with the Weasley’s. The reader and George obviously have feelings for eachother, but they’ve never confessed. When Fred and George leave she is still at hogwarts, cause shes a year younger. But, the reader gets into a serious relationship with someone else, until she gets hurt or cheated on. Cut to now, where they meet again at the Burrow when Harry is being moved ? Thank u!💛

a/n: I took the movie as reference, hope you don’t mind. Also, I think it got this long because I had to go through a few events to be as close to canon as possible. Thanks again for requesting it, I loved the idea!

Warnings: angsty, mentions of death and blood.

Word count: 4,898

********

You hugged your pillow tight and let out all the tears you had been holding during the way back to your dorm.

How could he do that to you? You had always been there for him. Always! You didn’t deserve that. No one deserved that.

The thought of how unfair it was only made you cry even more.

Why had he done that to you? You couldn’t understand. He said... he said he loved you. But that wasn’t love. That couldn’t be love.

The scene went through your eyes again. The sharp feeling of a knife being dug into your heart was too intense.

It was just before the last class of the day. You had seen him at lunch, you had shared a short kiss, you had gone separate ways. A perfectly normal day.

But you heard giggles coming from the second floor girls’ lavatory on your way to the last class. You, being the Head Girl, had to go there and see if Moaning Myrtle was being teased by the students or something of the sort. You would never think that what you were about to see was your boyfriend shamelessly making out with a girl. A girl that wasn’t you. A girl that was sitting on the sinks with her legs wrapped around your boyfriend’s hips.

You froze on the spot. You wanted to turn around and leave. You wanted to run as fast as you could, but your feet were glued to the ground. You could only watch the scene with your mouth dry.

It was only when the girl saw you and parted the kiss that you were able to turn around and run to your dorm. You guessed your boyfriend saw you leaving too, because the last thing you heard was him yelling at the girl.

“You said no one comes here!”

And now there you were. The tears fell down so quickly, you thought they would never stop.

Your chest felt so tight, the room so small, the bed so cold...

But the worst part of it all was the fact that you had no one to call. You couldn’t think of a single person you could go to at that moment. There was no shoulder to cry on. Well, of course there was someone in your mind, though. But that someone wasn’t here anymore. And, God, did it hurt.

It hurt because you knew if that someone was still here, you wouldn’t be going through that. How many times had he warned you about the boy you insisted in dating? How many letters had he sent you saying you deserved better? Saying that boy wasn’t the one for you? Saying he would hurt you?

And how many letters had you sent back saying you were the one who knew what was best for you? And that he had lost the right to say those things when he left?

One. Only one.

George didn’t write back after that.

Your crying got even more intense as you thought about what happened between you and your best friend. You had no one to cry to anymore. You had no one to hold you until the pain went away. You had no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your seventh year in Hogwarts was the hardest school year you had ever been through. You caught your boyfriend cheating on you with a younger girl just weeks shy of graduation, but that didn’t compare to the death of your headmaster Albus Dumbledore and the small battle that took place in Hogwarts just before that. It was the scariest moment of your life and when you truly realized you were in a war, leaving you completely lost and on the verge of despair.

Once you were back home, you felt uncertain of your future as the fear of losing your loved ones was taking over you.

The long weeks went by and you saw your father going out often while your mother spent her days making sure all the protection spells worked. She was starting to become obsessed with it and you were worried about her, but you didn’t know what to do. You were spending your days almost like her. Though instead of protection spells, your obsession was the news. Every day you read the news terrified of seeing a known name on the missing people list... or worse.

You wanted to do something to help, and although your father agreed you were old enough to fight, your mother always rejected the idea, keeping you home.

One day, you were surprised by the visit of Arthur Weasley. It was strange to realize that you had missed him very much. You wanted to be part of the conversation he was having with your father, but your mother kept you in the kitchen with her, saying they needed privacy.

When they were finished and Mr. Weasley left, your father had a puzzled look on his face. You wondered what they had talked about specifically, although you knew it was the war.

The next day, your father came to your room and, for your shock, said you would have to leave.

“It’s not safe enough here,” he said, holding your hand, “You’ll stay at the Burrow, with the Weasleys. I’m sure you’ll feel at home there.”

Of course you would. You had basically grown up there.

“Yes, but what about you and mom?”

“We’ll be okay. Don’t worry,” he gave you a smile, but that didn’t stop you from worrying at all. “Arthur brought me a Portkey. You’ll use it this evening.”

“This evening?! Dad, I don’t understand. Why aren’t you coming with me?” you frowned, confused.

“Your mother and I have work to do here,” he answered with a more serious expression, “You’ll be safer there.”

“When will I see you again?” you asked, realizing you had no choice.

“Soon. Now pack what you need and be ready.”

You nodded and your father left the room. Although you didn’t quite understand why you had to leave or why you would be safer at the Burrow, you did as your father said and packed what you needed.

Soon enough you were standing at his office and staring at an old book on the floor, holding your suitcase. Both of your parents were there with you, your father’s arm around your mother’s shoulder.

“In a minute, darling,” your father spoke.

“I love you,” your mother said, holding back tears.

“I love you too. Both of you,” you replied.

“We’ll meet again,” your father stated, refusing to take part in the farewell. He looked at his watch one more time and nodded, “Be ready.”

You took a deep breath and tightened the grip on your suitcase’s handle.

You didn’t remember hearing your father’s signal or touching the old book. All you remembered was feeling a hook pulling you back strongly. You closed your eyes as you felt really dizzy and only opened them again once your feet were firm on the ground.

You looked around and recognized the living room you were in. It didn’t take long for you to see Mrs. Weasley rushing from the kitchen.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re just in time! Thank Merlin,” she approached you with her arms open to give you a tight hug, “Welcome, dear.”

“Thank you, aunt Molly.”

“They haven’t arrived yet. I’m waiting with Ginny,” she took the suitcase from your hand and walked towards the stairs. You followed her. “I know they still have time, but you know what a mother’s heart is like. I will only calm down when my four boys come back here safely. And Arthur, of course.”

“Um... Where are they?”

Mrs. Weasley stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked at you.

“You don’t know?”

You shook your head.

“Your parents didn’t tell you?”

You shook your head again, slightly upset for being left out.

“Oh, well. They are moving Harry,” she continued her way to Ginny’s room, “Alastor came up with this nearly crazy plan to bring him. Insanely dangerous! I didn’t agree with it, of course, but do they listen to me? Not ever.”

“Fred and... George are there too?” you asked. It was the first time in months you said those names aloud. You felt weird, actually. And sad. Those names rolled out of your tongue as if you were talking about strangers, or at least two people you met in a different life. Either way, you felt sad.

“Yes. They are out there with Arthur, Bill and Ron. Can’t blame me for being worried, huh?”

“No, I cannot,” you shook your head, feeling worried as well, “Who else is with them?”

“Alastor, of course, along with Fleur, Remus, Nymphadora, Hagrid, Hermione, Kingsley and Mundungus.”

You felt your worry slightly fade away as you heard those names. You would trust those people with your life if needed. Your father was friends with Mad-Eye Moody and you were well aware of his incredible reputation. But you knew you couldn’t be completely relaxed though, given the risks of the mission, and you felt your guts twirl once you thought about your friends facing Death Eaters. However, you didn’t have to worry about that, they wouldn’t have to face anyone that night, they were just moving Harry.

“Ginny?” Mrs. Weasley opened the door, allowing you to see Ginny staring at her window with her arms crossed. “Y/N is here.”

“Hey,” you waved at her.

Ginny quickly walked up to you and hugged you almost just as tight as her mother had.

“It’s really good to see you, Y/N,” she whispered, sounding relieved.

“It’s good to see you too, little one,” you breathed, realizing how much you had missed her, even though you had seen each other in Hogwarts weeks before.

You had always seen Ginny as your best friend’s little sister, hence the nickname you gave her, but after she caught you crying in the Common Room at two in the morning and stayed with you until you were able to go to bed, you started seeing her as a friend. Even though you weren’t really close, she comforted you and made sure you were okay before leaving you alone again. You couldn’t expect that from many people.

“We should wait for them downstairs, girls,” Mrs. Weasley said as she placed your suitcase on the bed, “It’s almost time.”

You and Ginny went to the living room, while Mrs. Weasley decided to stay in the kitchen, where she would be closer to the entrance door.

With each and every sound you heard outside, you felt your heart sinking in. You were trying to push those thoughts away, but it was impossible. What if George didn’t come back? What if something happened to him? Of course you were worried about every single person in that mission, but... George had your heart in his hands. He had it ever since your thirteenth birthday and he would have it forever. You loved him deeply, no matter how many times you had tried to fool yourself by going out with different people and even being in a serious relationship with a boy that wasn’t good to you, which turned out hurting you badly.

You shouldn’t have sent that letter to George. Those couldn’t be your last words to him. They won’t be, you thought. But you couldn’t stop the regret from flooding your mind as you remembered one specific part of the letter.

You don’t get to tell me who I can or can’t go out with. I know what’s best for me and if I want to go out with Pete, I will. You don’t know him like I do.

You were embarrassed. You didn’t think you would be able to look George in the eyes now. Did he know Pete had cheated on you? Had Ginny told him? Should you ask her? Probably not. It wasn’t time for that. She was worried about truly important things at that moment.

But you couldn’t help it. You kept wondering. Was George upset with you? He didn’t write back after that letter, which meant you two hadn’t talked to each other for several months now. You missed him very much, but you had no idea of how you were going to fix things. That is, if you could fix things.

Suddenly, you heard a noise outside, the loudest in that night. You and Ginny jumped from the couch and ran to the front yard, where Mrs. Weasley welcomed Hagrid and Harry.

Ginny ran to the boy and threw her arms around his neck.

“Where are the others?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“Is no one else back?” Harry questioned.

You shook your head, biting your lower lip nervously.

Hagrid started explaining to Mrs. Weasley what had happened to them, while Ginny and Harry talked to each other. You wanted to give them privacy, so you followed Hagrid and Mrs. Weasley inside.

“We didn’t stand a chance, Molly,” Hagrid said, once the three of you were in the kitchen, “The Death Eaters were waiting for us. It was an ambush.”

You felt cold in your core. The fear you had been trying to push away finally took over your entire being. You needed to sit down, or else you would fall.

An ambush.

“Quick! Into the house!” you heard the familiar voice of your former teacher Remus Lupin coming from the front yard. You ran to the entrance door and opened it to let the people inside. What you didn’t expect to see was George covered in blood being held by Lupin and Harry.

“My boy!” Mrs. Weasley cried, “My boy.”

Professor Lupin and Harry laid George down on the couch. You watched it all from the kitchen door, too shocked to even breathe properly. Your hands were shaking and your core felt so cold... You didn’t know what to do. Worrying about the whole Pete situation seemed so silly and insignificant now.

You didn’t remember seeing the others arrive, but with a blink of an eye you saw Fred kneeling down in front of George, everyone else watching with worried expressions.

“How do you feel, Georgie?” Mrs. Weasley whispered.

George’s fingers groped for the side of his head.

“Saintlike,” he murmured.

“What’s wrong with him?” Fred croaked, looking terrified. “Is his mind affected?”

“Saintlike,” George repeated, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother. “You see... I’m holey, Fred, get it?”

You chuckled silently, feeling a tear roll down your cheek. But you quickly wiped it as you saw Tonks looking at you curiously.

Fred laughed quietly. “The whole wide world of ear-related humor, and you go for ‘I’m holey’? It’s pathetic.”

“Reckon I’m still better looking than you,” George smiled weakly.

You smiled to yourself after hearing that. He was still the same George you had grown up with and fallen for. The same George that had taught you how to fly on a broomstick and how to play Quidditch and Exploding Snap. The same George you had shared your deepest secrets with. The same George.

You were gathering the courage to get closer to him and let him see you, but you were completely disarmed when Bill announced the bad news.

“Mad-Eye is dead.”

The room instantly fell in silence. You could see the usual sparkle in Tonks’ eyes fading away.

“Mundungus took one look at Voldemort and disapparated,” Bill added in a low voice.

No one dared to say a word. Everyone seemed to be completely in shock. You didn’t move one muscle, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shared a sad glance, Ginny looked down at her feet, Fleur got closer to Bill, Tonks placed her hand on Lupin’s and slowly every person in that room felt the reality hitting them.

The sad atmosphere was almost unbearable, the silence deafening.

You crossed your arms above your chest in an attempt of holding yourself tight.

And it was just the beginning...

After a while, the people in the room started leaving. Some passed by you and went to the kitchen, some went outside, others went to their own rooms... Until it was just you, Mrs. Weasley and the twins.

George couldn’t see you from where he was, since Fred was in the way. Mrs. Weasley was caressing her son’s hair with one hand and trying to clean the blood with the other. You hesitantly approached the couch, seeing that George had his eyes closed, and touched Mrs. Weasley’s trembling hand.

“Let me do it,” you asked softly.

George instantly opened his eyes at the sound of your voice. You didn’t meet them as you didn’t think you were strong enough to do so. You took the handkerchief from Mrs. Weasley’s hand and told her to rest. She didn’t reject the idea and soon left the room as well, being followed by Fred, who understood the importance of that moment for you and his brother.

You could feel George’s eyes piercing you, but you ignored them. You sat by his side on the couch and focused on his injury, softly wiping the blood with the kerchief.

“Didn’t think I would see you tonight,” he whispered once you two were completely alone.

“And I didn’t think I would see you like this tonight,” you replied in the same volume.

“What? More handsome?”

You smiled, finally meeting his eyes. You didn’t expect them to be so sad, though.

Your heart skipped beats as he blinked. There was so much you wanted to tell him, so much you wanted to hear from him...

“I...” you tried to say the things you were thinking, but you didn’t find the right words. It was all too crowded in your mind, and suddenly your body expressed what you were feeling in the only way it could: you started to cry.

It was quietly and discretely, but it was still crying. You wiped the tears with the back of your hand and sniffed, trying to make it look like less than what it truly was.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly, “I’m okay.”

“I’m so sorry, George. So sorry,” you shook your head, “I was so stupid. I’m sorry.”

George looked at you, slightly furrowing his brows. He seemed hesitant and unsure, like he was fighting a battle in his head. What you didn’t know was that that battle wasn’t new to him and he had fought it many times before.

But when George saw you wiping one more tear, he left all that hesitation behind and let go of his uncertainty. He sat up on the couch and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close to him as possible. Maybe you should have been more rational than him, maybe you should have told him to lay down again. But you didn’t do that. You hugged him back and at that moment you let out everything.

You were completely vulnerable, as you always were around him, and broke down immediately, crying like never before. It was all too much for you. And even though you felt safe in his arms, you knew that war was far from ending and that you would be really lucky if the people you loved didn’t get hurt again.

George, on the other hand, felt grateful. He was happy to be hugging you again and to be feeling your soft skin against his, even if it was such a brief touch. He felt his worries fading away, his fears disappearing, the war being reduced to a headache. Your embrace was peaceful, warm and gentle. It was perfect. And it smelled really good, like home.

“Shh, I’m here,” he whispered while he slowly stroked your hair, still holding you strongly, “I’m okay.”

“I was so scared,” you said between sobs, against the clean part of his shirt, “I thought you were-”

“Shh, it’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, George.”

“It’s okay,” he repeated.

“I should be comforting you. Not the other way around,” you let go of him and wiped your tears once again.

“You are here with me. You are safe. Alive,” he said, looking in your eyes, “That’s comforting enough.”

You tried to give him a smile, but your chest felt too tight for that. Instead, you reached for his face and caressed his cheek, trying desperately to let him know how much you cared for him, how much you loved him.

“Lay down,” you whispered, realizing he was still bleeding, “I’ll put a bandage on your ear.”

“You mean my non-existent ear?” George raised an eyebrow as he laid back on the couch.

“You’ll have two non-existent ears if you keep teasing me,” you warned, already conjuring the stuff you would need for the wound dressing.

George smiled. “I missed you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning sweating. You had a nightmare of which you couldn’t remember the exact details, but you could feel it had something to do with your parents. You rubbed your eyes and realized they were wet. Great, you had been crying in your sleep.

You looked around noticing you were alone in Ginny’s room, which meant you were the last one to wake up. You didn’t understand why the girls had been up so early until you realized what day it was. You jumped from the bed and rushed to the bathroom to take a quick shower and get ready. It was Bill and Fleur’s wedding and you couldn’t be late.

Fortunately, your father had told you about the wedding and you had packed a dress for the occasion. You hoped your parents would make it to the party, but you highly doubted it.

Soon enough, you were walking down the stairs fully dressed up and entered the living room. There was no one there. You spun on your heels to go to the kitchen but stopped when you heard Ginny’s voice.

“Zip me up, will you?”

You walked slowly to the door and looked at the kitchen’s interior, seeing Ginny and Harry in there. The girl had her dress unzipped on the back, that was facing the boy. He hesitantly walked up to her and started zipping it.

You blushed when you realized how intimate that moment was. You were about to step back and stop creeping on them when you saw George coming in at the other side.

“’Morning,” he said, raising his cup of tea at them and completely ruining their moment.

You sighed, but a chuckle slipped out of your mouth. Typical.

You had to do something, though.

“Hey, George,” you greeted him as you entered the kitchen. “Oh, hey, Ginny. Harry,” you nodded at them, pretending you hadn’t seen them before. “Could you come with me, Georgie? I need your help.”

The younger twin narrowed his eyes at you but gave in, following you outside.

“Yes?” he asked once you were in the front yard, “What is it?”

“Nothing. I couldn’t let you get in their way,” you shook your head.

He sighed deeply. “I should’ve known.”

“Probably,” you agreed, smiling.

Only at that moment George was able to actually look at you and take in what he was seeing. You looked absolutely beautiful. Like always! But this time was different. You were both older and you were basically two grown ups now. It had been a long time since he had last seen you. Your hair was slightly longer, he noticed in his mind.

His eyes trailed down your entire figure until they curiously stopped on your left hand. Suddenly, they seemed sad, grey.

“Is he coming?” he asked.

You frowned. “Who?”

“Pete,” he pointed at your hand. You looked at it and saw the silver ring on your ring finger. A ring that your father had given you for your eighteenth birthday, but George didn’t know that.

“No, he’s not,” you answered, feeling your throat tighten. “We’re not together anymore.”

Something shifted in George’s eyes and you couldn’t tell what it was. You felt your mouth slightly dry as he tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Oh,” he said, “What happened?”

“What you said it would. He hurt me,” your voice broke at the last sentence, although you weren’t going to cry. You cleared your throat, realizing the atmosphere around you two had suddenly become serious.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah... me too,” you nodded, “I shouldn’t have pushed you away like I did. You didn’t deserve that, you were just trying to protect me.”

“Maybe I was too invasive? You had the right to react the way you did. I could’ve been mistaken, since I was mainly acting out of...”

Jealousy. Acting out of jealousy. But George wasn’t going to admit that so easily.

“Well, I didn’t really know how to deal with the distance,” he concluded.

“Me neither. I felt so lonely in that castle, George. You have no idea,” you breathed, “But no, you weren’t mistaken.”

George nodded, looking down at his feet. Was it too selfish to admit that he was slightly glad that you weren’t with Pete anymore? He felt guilty for it, but he couldn’t avoid it. He still remembered the letter you sent him talking about Pete for the first time. He remembered feeling helpless and lost, like he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He knew Pete, the charming Ravenclaw that every girl in Hogwarts had a crush on. Of course the boy would ask you out, he would be crazy if he didn’t. But George had been almost sure it would end up with your heart broken. Pete had a reputation and it looked like you were ignoring it.

Now, seeing that he was right and it did end up with you being hurt, he felt guilty. Guilty because he could’ve done more to protect you. He could’ve ignored your angry letter and visited you when you went home for Christmas. He could’ve been there for you more. But no. He let his pride take over him and didn’t write to you again.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N.”

“Well, it’s over now. And I’m okay. Ginny was great, I don’t know how I would have carried on if it wasn’t for her.”

“Oh, I see,” George nodded, “That’s why suddenly you decided to help her?”

You chuckled. “The only way to have a friend is to be one.”

“Yeah,” he looked down again, “I should’ve had that in mind.”

“Stop, George,” you moved closer to him, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should’ve been there for you.”

“I pushed you away.”

“I should’ve known better.”

“You couldn’t.”

“I love you.”

You froze.

You had said you loved each other countless times before, but it sounded so different this time. You felt it was different. You felt it had more meaning behind it.

Or were you overreading it?

You didn’t care.

“I love you too,” you said, hoping he would feel the same thing you felt when you heard it from him.

The sadness you had seen in his eyes minutes before was now gone. It was replaced by a sparkle you hadn’t seen in over a year, the same sparkle he had in his eyes when his pranks worked the way he wanted.

George slowly took your hand in his and started playing with your ring.

“I-”

“George! Over here! We could use some help!” Bill waved at his brother from across the yard. You both looked at him, realizing that the men were setting the tent for the wedding.

“I should go there,” he sighed. “Or maybe I could use my injury to stay here,” he looked at you as if he had just had the most brilliant idea.

“No,” you chuckled, letting go of his hand, “It wouldn’t be right, they need your help.”

“I knew you would never be the same again after becoming Head Girl,” he shook his head.

“Hey!” you protested, “You didn’t even see me in action.”

“But I’d bet a hundred galleons that it was something like this,” he smiled, “Always playing by the book, never having fun...”

“I had my fun,” you shrugged it off.

“Sure.”

“I did!”

“Okay.”

“Weasley!”

“Don’t say it too loud, otherwise everyone will answer,” he smiled, “And I don’t believe you. I don’t think you had fun without me.”

“You are so entitled, aren’t you?” you shook your head in disbelief, but your smirk contradicted your line. “Go set the tent.”

“Will you still be here when I come back?” he asked, half-joking.

“Always,” you replied truthfully.

********

Bonus Part

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2K notes · View notes

junemo10 · 4 years

Text

Benjamin (2019) starring Colin Morgan

A rising young filmmaker, who uses his relationships as material for his films, is thrown into emotional turmoil by a burgeoning romance and the upcoming premiere of his second feature.

This movie was everything to me, a Merlin fan, and here’s why (get ready for my nonsense).

WARNING! SPOILERS BELOW!

This movie was a lovely film, I enjoyed Colin’s acting, as always. There’s so much depth and beauty to it, everything is so well structured. If you’ve seen it, you know what I mean. Despite what you might think after reading this, I really did just enjoy and understand the movie without making it into a Merlin thing.

But my take? And yes I’m aware this is all in my head, but like. It’s what I WANT it to be. And after watching it twice I only feel more welcome to the thought: This is movie is fanfic material.

So basically, in my mind, Ben is Merlin. He is so far into the future that he has forgotten his past, forgotten certain memories of Camelot and his magic. Maybe in the decade before, he swore it off to try to live a normal life and in doing so, in this decade, he has forgotten (the fact that we learned nothing about Ben’s childhood, besides the bits with his mother, only fuels my want for this to be true. cause maybe his director mom is a mentor like Gaius, or just someone he sees Hunith in, he seeks out parent figures but not all of them are as loving as Hunith/Gaius but he accepts them because he just needs SOMEONE to fill that void, , , this is flawed I realize but just humor me) who he is, and how to live. Maybe the year he’s in, doesn’t make a lot of sense to him, especially now that he doesn’t have his magic, so he tries to make art to bring back a feeling he doesn’t know he’s missing? The world is so fast paced that he grows numb to it, even after years of Camelot being gone, he still can’t fully grasp the growing world, until he meets Noah. And suddenly the world stops for him, and something about Noah, his bravery and his humor, reminds him of Arthur. Noah makes him slow down, he makes him come out of his head and that’s why suddenly it’s like he can breathe for the first time. When Noah stares at him in the bathtub, he begins to recognize something in his eyes: genuine care, genuine love, and Merlin begins to remember the feeling of Arthur. And it scares him, so when Noah leaves again he’s in a turmoil, not quite knowing what to do. Merlin is not only awkward because he still doesn’t know how to exist without his prince, and his ability to love has gone numb from his pain, but also has an intense anxiety about failing! Because he feels his failure with Arthur with every piece of his soul. He listens to the Buddha because he seeks the wisdom of wise people and he finds comfort in the way he speaks, reminds him of Gaius and maybe Kilgharrah. When Merlin is on shrooms, it reminds him of his freedom of magic, (a stretch maybe lol) he feels connected to the world again and even more so with Noah. One scene that REALLY got me was the piano concert one, because watching Noah perform another time made him realize why he was so drawn to him on the stage the first time, the command he held, the captivation his audience had for him. The feeling of respect that people used to feel towards Arthur. And so he began to remember Arthur again, and it made him awkward and flustered. Right after, When Noah’s parents asked about the film, he felt the shame of his failure with the film but ALSO remembering Arthur and it turned him into a mess (not to mention the past failed relationship that got brought up at the restaurant, the guy talked about how he’s a afraid to let himself love. He’s so numb in his pain, he doesn’t know how) and he pushed Noah away because he was scared to have Noah care for him, especially when he couldn’t tell Noah the truth about why he was upset. (this was when they were sitting on the bench). But after he thought Steven was dead, he was shocked back into himself, having the feeling of someone close to him dying hitting him hard, and it forced him to he realize he doesn’t want to lose Noah because even though he’s immortal, Noah’s life is too short and he can’t bare the thought of not being with him. So he runs after Noah, even though he couldn’t tell him everything. When Noah asks him to leave with him, he hesitates. The reason he doesn’t want to leave the city, he’s never left the city, is because it’s where the island of Avalon used to be (inland of where the island is, he has never left) and realizes that Noah could give his life meaning for once since Arthur left. so he says “okay” because until Arthur gets here, why doesn’t he get to live a little of the world. The reason he never has is because he doesn’t feel like he deserves to be happy after letting Arthur down. But maybe ~yes more speculation~ in that moment he remembered Arthur would’ve wanted him to be happy, and that’s why he says yes.

Soooooo take that as you will, hope it at least made a little sense to someone. Did I make a lot of stretches? Sure. Yeah. Did I fabricate and change some of the meanings to be my own? Absolutely. Most of it. Will you ever be able to look at this movie the same again? I dunno, but I certainly won’t! You don’t have to agree, this was purely for my state of mind and I just really enjoyed putting this together. But this movie was a masterpiece on its own, and seeing it as I did was just so delicious as a starved merthur shipper.

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blacknailpolishonguitarstrings · 3 years

Text

When I fall in love with you

The rain fell hard around her, seeping into the mushy earth, as she walked fastly from the Forbidden Forest, feet sinking into the wet grass. She clutched her books tightly in the crook of her arm, covered by her black cloak, protecting them from the incessant torrents of water falling from the dark sky. Lily and the girls had told her to come back to the castle with them, but she had insisted on staying longer to help Professor Kettleburn with the escaped Nifflers, using the occasion to ask a few more questions about the lesson. Unfortunately, the weather had turned for the worse, resulting in her rushing through the Hogwarts Grounds, soaked to the bone. She was already nearing the castle, walking along the greenhouses, when suddenly a hand shot out of the door of Greenhouse number 3, pulling her into the warmth and moisture of the glasshouse brusquely. The unknown hand wrapped itself tightly around her throat, cold, bony fingers digging into her soft skin. Another arm wound itself around her waist, restraining her and impeding any movement whatsoever. Thrashing and kicking against her assailant's firm grip, she attempted to free herself, in vain.

"Now, now, Miss Cattermole, there's no need for such violence," hissed Malfoy's voice in her ear.

"What...do you...want?" she choked, barely managing to force the words out of her mouth.

Another foreign, freezing hand slapped her across the face, long nails scraping her skin, knocking off her glasses, which fell on the floor.

"Do not open your mouth, unless spoken to, you filthy little mudblood," seethed a high-pitched, slightly crazed voice: Bellatrix Black.

Straining to see, she finally distinguished four blurry figures, all dressed in black.

"The Dark Lord is rising, and someone like you has no place in the Wizarding World. Unfortunately for you, that means eliminating all of you mudbloods, one by one, until no one remains standing. Consider yourself...collateral damage, if you will," whispered her attacker.

"You...can't do...anything...to me. You will be...sent to...Azkaban," said Finn in a raspy voice.

She was nearly suffocating now, throat raw, as she continued struggling to try and escape.

"You're right," he continued. "We may not be able to kill you, but we can certainly inflict pain upon you..."

***

Black spots danced in front of her eyes as she painstakingly peeled them open. Memories of menacing, blurry, dark figures, cold, cruel voices, and a chokingly tight grip around her throat flashed through Finn’s mind, yet she did not remember much more. She did recall feeling an intense wave of fear though before darkness swallowed her. Her body felt sore and exhausted, searing white-hot pain bursting in sporadic spurts along her rib cage and hips. She whimpered feebly as another sharp pang of pain stabbed her head. Suddenly alert and aware that she might still be in danger and that her assailants probably weren’t far, she scrambled for her glasses. They had fallen somewhere near her, she was sure of it, but only dirt and gravel rolled under her palms. Palming her cloak rapidly, she found her wand instead.

“Accio glasses,” she whispered, waving it briefly in front of her.

The familiar shape of the spectacles glided smoothly into her palm, having been laying seemingly close to her. As soon as she put them on, the world sharpened around her and came into focus, the black spots and kaleidoscopic spectrum covering her surroundings disappearing abruptly. The greenhouse around her was filled to the brim with lush plants with waxy leaves and bright, blossoming flowers, strange spindly bushes, vibrant potted plants with twisting tentacles, and other bizarre species of magical herbs and fungi. No one was in sight, she was thankfully alone. She attempted to stand up, but her weak, shaking legs, nearly buckled under her and she stumbled forward, nearly flying face-first into a cactus covered in purple berries. More pain flooded her knees as she slowly took a few tentative steps. Groaning in pain, Finn propped herself up against a wooden worktop. Her blurry reflection stared back at her from the misty glass of the greenhouse, covered in millions of water droplets. The crystal was barely clear enough to reflect her unusual, stark paleness, her brown grimy locks hanging limply over her eyes, and the reddish, rapidly bluing bruises on her neck left by rough fingers. The same bruises were probably blossoming on her hips too now, judging by the pain emanating from there and spreading through her body. Angry, scarlet, crescent-shaped nail marks cut across her cheek, and a deeper gash sliced through them, blood pearling at its edges and steadily trickling down her cold, clammy face. She rummaged briefly through her pockets, hoping to find a napkin leftover from lunch to slow the blood flow but they were empty.

“Fuck!” She swore loudly in frustration.

The pain appeared to stem not only from superficial wounds but also from magical wounds terror deeply inside her organism. She could not go to Madam Pomfrey even though she probably should as she would ask questions, which would inevitably lead to consequences, and more trouble with whoever her attackers were was the last thing she needed. She did not know any healing spells for this or Glamour Charms strong enough to cover all the damage up and neither was she in a state fit to perform them. Her best bet was thus Marlene, the one with the most magi-medical experience since her mother was a Mediwitch. But that meant facing her friends, and Merlin knew what they would do if they found out about the whole story, especially Sirius. With a heavy sigh and wand at the ready, she cautiously slipped out of the greenhouse, resolving to wait a bit until everyone was at dinner to sneak back into her dorm and speak to Marlene alone.

Outside, curtains of rain kept falling and hammering against the glass roof of the greenhouse, sliding down along the fogged-up panels, but they were thinner than before. The sky, a murky shade of gray when she left class, had darkened considerably, now ink black. Not a single star or ray of moonlight was insight, and the vicious cold seeped past her clothes. She must have been unconscious for half an hour at the very least. With a deep sigh, she began making her way between puddles of sombre water and mud. The Hogwarts’ shadow loomed over her threateningly, and the entrance door seemed so far away, a pale golden brown blur in the distance. Clutching her wand tighter, she finally stepped between the fleeting, lurking shadows of the Courtyard’s columns. A single, lonely silhouette stood in the center of it, near the fountain, appearing anxious as they frantically looked around themselves. All of a sudden, she heard it, like a nervous whisper cutting through the roaring wind and water in her ears, and the pain clouding her brain, her name, being called over and over again.

“Finn! FINN!”

And then it hit her. That tall, lanky frame and those short, brown curls she could barely distinguish in the dim light coming from the castle, it was Remus.

“Remus!” she shouted.

Instantly, the figure turned around, and walked rapidly towards her, almost running.

“Finn,” he exclaimed loudly. “I was...I mean we were worried about you, you disappeared after class.”

His voice was unexpectedly ear-splitting, sending pangs of pain through her brain, making her wince with pain.

“Finn,” he repeated cautiously, more quietly. “Are you alright?”

His Welsh accent, which he usually managed to cover up, cut through his words worriedly.

“I’m fine,” she replied shortly, swiftly backing away into the darkness, wrapping her cloak around herself tightly.

“No you are not,” he chided. “What happened?”

“I said I’m fine.”

Her tone was hard and cold, bordering on mean.

“Nothing happened, I swear, I’m alright,” she whispered. “There is no cause for worry.”

“I am not blind, Finn. I see the cut on your face and don’t tell me you fell,” Remus added, seeing that she was about to protest. “Unfortunate accidents do not leave bruises like that.”

He stared sharply at her neck, a dangerous glint playing in his warm brown eyes speckled with green.

“Who was it, love?” He inquired quietly.

Love. He only used that nickname when he was furious, and every time it shook her, sending shivers down her spine.

“I can’t remember,” she sighed.

“What happened? Please tell me, I just want to help.”

His voice had softened once again, concern written all over his face as he raised a gentle hand and brushed a stray strand of hair covered in dirt from her face.

“I was walking back from Care of Magical Creatures class, and someone attacked me near greenhouse number 3, dragged me inside, and…”

“And?”

“Oh Merlin, I remember now,” gasped Finn. “Please don’t tell anyone, not James, not the girls, and especially not Sirius. Regulus was with them and it will only rile him up, things are already𑁋”

“Finn,” he stopped her. “Just explain to me what happened, I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“I...I can’t...I don’t want to Remus,” she breathed.

“You know you can trust me right?” He asked, putting a soft but heavy hand on her arm.

The young witch trembled lightly, the small touch sending heat and sparks coursing all over her body. He loomed tall over her, almost dangerously, yet she had never felt so safe.

“I will tell you, I swear. Just...not to now, please.”

“Okay.”

She exhaled sharply, before sitting down on the cold stones. Remus kneeled next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, holding her tightly, as if to shelter her from any possible harm. On an impulse, she began to hum, her hushed voice barely hearable over the thundering rain falling around them.

When I fall in love

It will be forever

Or I'll never fall in love

In a restless world

Like this is

Love has ended before it's begun

And too many moonlight kisses

Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun

She was very much aware of the fact that the tall boy was staring at her, while she watched the raindrops fall onto the cobblestones, but she kept going.

When I give my heart

It will be completely

Or I'll never give my heart

And the moment I can feel that

You feel that way too

Is when I fall in love

With you

And the moment I can feel that

You feel that way too

Is when I fall in love with you

“Michael Buble? When I fall in love with you?” He smiled.

“You know it?” She said, surprised.

“Yeah, my muggle aunt used to put some on from time to time.”

He paused.

“You sing beautifully, Finn.”

fanfic written for Finn, the lovely @marauders_aesthetic on Instagram

#marauders #remus lupin #Remus Lupin x oc #fanfic #original charcter

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fishoutofcamelot · 4 years

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Time Heals Some Wounds (And Causes Others)

My first merthur fic!

Arthur didn't spend two years remembering his past life, rounding up all his old Camelot buddies, and tracking down where the hell his immortal idiot had dallied off to - just to be snubbed! As if their ten years together meant nothing to him!

To be fair, ten years to Arthur would've been but a scant moment or two for Merlin. He even did the math. Only 0.06% of Merlin's disturbingly long life was spent with Arthur.

People's memory started failing them at the age of seventy, let alone a thousand. Was it any surprise Merlin would forget such a fleeting moment that had happened so early in his painfully long existence? It would be like asking Arthur to remember the first few months of his life, and Arthur didn't even remember what he ate for dinner last week.

So yes, it had been wishful thinking to hope that Merlin would recall anything by the time they reunited. And yes, it had been selfish of him to be so bitter when Merlin didn't.

In 2020, Merlin went by the alias Rhys Anderson. Which, in Arthur's opinion, was the dumbest name anyone could possibly think of. So at least it was in character for Merlin, who was likewise the dumbest person anyone could possibly meet.

(Gwen had slapped him last time he said that aloud.)

But even after all these centuries, no matter how forgetful and absent-minded Merlin's age had made him, he was still Merlin. Still cheerful and sassy and kind, still wearing his heart on his sleeve and still giving the best advice. And above all, still an idiot.

Though it pained him - and everyone else, he suspected - he let himself accept that this Merlin was Rhys now. He let himself move on. Let himself befriend Rhys just as seamlessly as he'd befriended Merlin.

It didn't help that this new era brought new emotions and possibilities with it. And against all odds, Arthur found himself falling for Merlin. Falling fast and hard.

Which was no good at all, especially considering...well...all of that.

Arthur tried to quell the way his heart pounded whenever Merlin drew near; tried to ignore the way his chest heated up with a fluttering, friendly warmth whenever Merlin smiled at him; tried to ignore his aching desire to spend more, more, more time at Merlin's side.

He tried. And he failed.

Morgana - now called Morgan Barnes, an interior designer and redeemed ex-villain (and Gwen Smith's closeted admirer) - got fed up with his pining after a while and told him to just take the plunge.

"What's the worst that could happen?" She had asked while they ate ice cream and strolled along the park trail, as per their Sunday routine.

He glared at her. "You know exactly what could happen."

"Eh. Merlin - Rhys - is too nice to shut you away just because you've got a crush on him. I mean, he didn't turn Gwaine away."

Arthur gaped.

"What? You didn't know Gwaine used to have a crush on your manservant?"

Arthur continued to gape.

Morgan laughed. "How observant of you, my lord. On second thought, maybe you shouldn't confess to Rhys after all. He's far too good for you."

For all that she had reformed and straightened up her ways in this new life, she was still a maniacal bitc-

Morgan's wheedling did the trick. In a few days, Arthur found himself inviting Rhys over to his apartment for a nice, casual movie night, with a half-formed plan in the back of his mind to try and initiate something between them should the opportunity present itself.

If all went well, the kiss would spark Merlin's faintest of memories into clarity - like how it worked on television. If that didn't happen and Merlin's memories remained ever so hopelessly destroyed by time...well, he still enjoyed "Rhys's" company, and that's what counted.

The movie was some stupid sci-fi flick Merlim had picked out. For an immortal wizard, he sure seemed to like science and technology and future-y things. Arthur would have thought he'd be more fond of the past.

Of course, it would make sense that Merlin disliked historical dramas and fantasy as much as he did. It probably reminded him all too well of his own miserably immortal life. With sci-fi, he could forget for a few moments just how timeless he really was, and lose himself into the folds of terrible special effects and incoherent technobabble.

Well that was a depressing thought.

When the credits rolled, and the popcorn bowl had run empty, Arthur spotted his golden-ticket opportunity.

They were both laughing and joking about something stupid that had happened in the movie. And then the laughter faded. And then it was just the two of them staring and smiling contentedly at each other. And the lights were off, save the dim glow of the television. And their gazes turned more and more intent, and their faces drew closer...closer...closer...

Merlin turned his head to the side, face screwed up in shame. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I can't."

Arthur's heart sunk. "W-what?"

Sensing Arthur's horror and embarrassment, Rhys quickly amended. "I-I mean - I care about you! I care about you a lot, Arthur! Dare I say it, I might even love you."

Arthur's heart seized at the word 'love', but he refused to get his hopes up. "But?"

A weary sigh. "But...I love another."

Arthur mentally slapped himself. How could he have been so naive to think that Merlin wouldn't have found a special someone in all his years of life? Had he been such a fool as to believe that Merlin would never attach himself to anyone after Arthur?

"Who's the lucky guy?" Arthur asked, trying - failing - not to sound as heartbroken and bitter as he felt.

Merlin's face scrunched up in wistful confusion. "I can't remember his name. It was a long time ago. I can't remember much of anything anymore..."

That last sentence was more for Merlin to think out loud than for Arthur to hear, but he agreed nonetheless. Merlin's inability to recall Camelot wasn't the only sign of his deteriorating mind. He frequently forgot where he put things, or what year it was, or what his name was (he has a habit or confusing his current alias with his one from WWI, oddly enough). Several times Arthur had tracked him down and guided him home just because he couldn't remember where he lived. Suffice to say, the years had taken quite a toll on him.

Merlin shook himself out of his reverie. "Look. I just - he died long ago. And even though I can't even remember what he looked like, a part of me is still upset about it. As much as I love you, it wouldn't be fair to start something with you while my heart still belongs to another."

"Thanks for considering my emotions, I suppose," he acquiesced, nodding solemnly. "But - wait, you said you can't even remember what he looked like?"

Merlin gave a sheepish shrug. "I can't remember anything about him at all, really. All I know is the way I loved him."

Arthur swallowed hard. "A-and how did you love him?"

For once, Merlin dared to lift his shame-filled gaze off the floor and straight at Arthur. Though it was too dark to see, he knew by heart how intensely Merlin's blue eyes burned.

"More deeply than I'll ever love anyone else."

Knowing he couldn't compete with that, Arthur hung his head, bid his farewells, and watched Merlin awkwardly leave.

When Merlin was gone, Arthur allowed himself to vent his frustrations. To cry out and throw things and hit other things and yell into his pillow.

Who was that mystery man of his, anyway? Who could Merlin possibly love, who had he lost so long ago that he could no longer...remember...them...

Oh god.

Arthur was the mystery man.

Gwaine would have laughed at the irony. Darn near all of his friends would have, in fact. And maybe Arthur would have laughed as well, if not for the fact that he was far too frustrated to do so.

Still, this was a ray of hope. If Merlin could recall the slightest inkling of Arthur as they had once been before, regardless of the capacity that recollection came in...then maybe this wouldn't be so terrible after all.

#tonight on: im writing weird drabbles on my phone instead of sleeping #merlin bbc #merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #fanfiction #merlin fanfiction #long post #long #fish post

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the-witch-and-her-husbands · 3 years

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Day Seventeen: Potion

(Author’s Note: Cut for length)

‘Dearest Heart? Come here a moment….’

Jilomena heard the rumble of her husband’s voice, and quickly turned her steps in that direction. He was calling to her from his Potions Lab.

‘Yes, my Darling?’ She greeted him with a warm smile as she entered the room. As much as she wanted to, she knew better than to wrap her arms around him or try to kiss him while he was brewing. There was every chance she might knock something out of his hands, or disrupt a measurement that needed the utmost concentration.

‘This particular potion I have been called upon to make requires the utmost timing. I need your assistance.’ Severus looked up at her briefly, before returning his attention to the cauldron. ‘I need to keep stirring, but the ginger for the next step needs to be freshly cut and peeled before it is added. Every second it is exposed to the air reduces its potency, so I couldn’t very well prepare it ahead of time. I knew that you could be trusted to assist me and perform the task correctly. ‘

‘Of course, Darling.’ She murmured demurely as she gathered together the instruments that she would need. A cutting board, of course, and the smaller of his silver knives. The jar of ginger was placed next to it. She stood at her station, ready for his command to begin.

‘I feel like I’m back in school, taking a Potions class,’ she mused with a wry grin.

‘Is that so?’ He stole another look at her, noting the mischievous glimmer in her eye. ‘A shame that I never got to instruct you.’

That much was true. Her sisters had sent her to Beauxbatons for her education, feeling that it would provide her with the grace and skills necessary to catch a husband. She certainly had, even if it wasn’t the Pureblood match that they had intended for her. Still, he was one of the Dark Lord’s most trusted inner circle, and they’d had to contend themselves with that.

She giggled with amusement at his statement. ‘True. But I supposed that I would have misbehaved most awfully.’

‘Then you would have been put in detention. Start preparation, please. Now.’ He nodded, not looking up at her this time.

‘Of course. Sir.’ She bit her lip on a grin at her cheeky substitution, referring to him as Sir instead of Darling as if he were her Potions Master and not her husband.

One of his eyebrows raised up, but he made no comment at her statement.

She deftly cut and peeled the ginger, ensuring that it was portioned into completely equal slices.

‘Nearly ready?’ He risked stealing another glance.

‘Yes.’ She didn’t cheek him this time, so busy was she concentrating on getting the ingredients as perfect as they could be for him.

‘Good. When I say “now,” lift the board and slide the ingredients into the potion using the knife. Take care not to touch them, the oils from your skin will disturb the whole mixture and I’ll have to begin again. Ready….now!’ He quickly moved back to allow her room.

She hurriedly picked up the board and started to slide the ginger into the cauldron as he had directed. One of her hands slipped on the knife and she only just missed touching the last piece of ginger by millimetres as it slipped down the incline to join its brethren.

‘That was close!’ She looked up at her husband with a sheepish grin.

‘Indeed.’ His tone was dry. The brew no longer needed his constant attention, so he could focus on her. His expression was faintly amused as he loomed over her, folding his arms over his chest.

‘I’m lucky you’re not my Professor and you can’t give me a detention.’ She chuckled.

‘No. But I’m your husband. I can do much worse things.’ A slow smirk spread across his face.

‘Like what?’ The chuckle grew more nervous and uncertain of itself.

‘Like I could give you a spanking.’ The same smirk stayed on his face as he found a chair in the corner of the room and sat down on it.

‘Wait. What?’ The chuckle died out completely.

‘I’m going to spank you. I think that’s clear and self-explanatory enough.’ He patted his thigh.

She walked over to where he was sitting as if in a dream, hardly daring to believe what was happening to her. She’d never gotten a spanking, not even as a small child. Oh, she’d been threatened with one on a few occasions, but neither her sister nor brother in law had ever bothered themselves with following through. Perhaps someone was actually going to hold her to account for her behaviour, from now on.

She took a deep breath before settling herself over his knees, face down. It felt a very strange and vulnerable position to be in. But this man was her husband, and she trusted him completely.

Complete trust or no, she still squeaked with alarm when he started to pull her skirt up and over her hips, and again when he hooked his fingers into her waistband to pull her knickers down to her knees. It never occurred to her that her bottom would be bared for her spanking. Surely he meant to just swat her once or twice and let her go?

She squirmed, feeling even more vulnerable and even a little embarrassed. This may have been her husband, but it made her feel self-conscious to know he was staring down at her naked lower half. She tried to clamp her legs together, but he gently spread them apart slightly, not even allowing her that tiny bit of modesty.

Jilomena hung her head, hair falling like a curtain. At least she could hide her face away. And at least she was getting her spanking in private. Only her husband was there to witness her mortification, and he had seen her naked countless times by now. She began to relax slightly.

Severus rested a heavy hand on one of her buttocks, rubbing and patting the flesh gently, before bringing it down in a sharp smack.

The action of his hand striking her skin caused a slight sting, but it didn’t feel nearly as bad as she had imagined it would. In fact, she reflected as he brought down his hand a second time, and then a third, it actually felt quite…good. Her bottom was being warmed nicely, and the momentum was making her rock forward against his leg. Delicious friction, but not anything like enough to satisfy the urge that was growing in her nether regions.

He spoke after he’d spanked her a dozen times or so. ‘You are doing so well, Dearest Heart.’ He stroked the reddening skin, providing a bit of comfort before sliding his hand between her thighs.

It felt like he was inspecting her, sliding his fingers along every inch of her slit. She squirmed in response, realising that his hand was going to come away wet.

‘What have we here?’ She didn’t have to look to tell that he was amused. ‘It would appear that you are enjoying your spanking. Aren’t you, Dearest Heart?’

When she wasn’t quick enough to answer, he brought his hand down again.

‘Yes!’ She threw her head back.

‘Yes, what?’ He spanked her again. ‘Yes, I’m enjoying my spanking?’ Another spank followed.

‘Yes, I’m enjoying my spanking! Oh, Merlin!’ she cried out, wriggling in his lap.

‘Well. In that case, I’ll have to continue, won’t I?’ Without waiting for a reply, he carried on spanking her. No smack was any harder than the first, but rather continued to rain down steadily while she moaned and writhed wantonly across his lap, no longer caring a whit for her modesty, never wanting the sensations she was experiencing to stop. Never had she imagined that being spanked by her husband could feel this good, that his hand could bring pleasure by inflicting a little bit of pain.

Finally, he stopped. ‘Good girl. Such a good girl for me.’

His praise was warming her, like the sun coming out after a heavy thunderstorm. It made her feel as good as his hand currently was, gently stroking and soothing her tender flesh.

She lay limply over his knees, all but purring with delight as she revelled in the sensations he was providing. The purr manifested itself as a low moan instead when his hand slipped between her legs.

‘I think you deserve a little reward, Dearest Heart.’ She could hear the slight smile in his voice. Then his fingers began to move, stroking along her opening, causing her to get even wetter and more desperate before he finally relieved her need by pushing his digits into her and pumping slowly in and out.

Her moans grew in intensity.

‘Yes, that’s it. Good girl. Come on my hand,’ he encouraged, withdrawing so he could circle her clitoris in the way that never failed to get a reaction. Ever obedient, she came hard at his command, crying out his name over and over as she rode out her orgasm before collapsing.

He stroked along her back, reassuring her with words of love until she was strong enough to sit up. Once she was upright, he held her in his lap. She was covered with his kisses, cuddled in his arms, and told over and over how much she was loved and adored.

A sudden shower of golden sparks from the cauldron caught their attention.

‘Ah. That means its time for the next step,’ Severus mused, reluctantly removing his arms from around her so he could help her to stand.

They shared one more kiss before he returned his attention to brewing. She chose to remain by his side, watching his every move with adoration.

She would definitely help him brew in future. Especially if every potion proved to be as interesting as this one had.

#drabble #day seventeen #promptober #v:Shadow of Solace #tw:spanking

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justsomewritingsandshit · 4 years

Text

The Struggles of a Male Veela (Part 5 - Selene’s Got A Date)

Louis Weasley x Soulmate!OC

Length: 3190 words

Warnings: soulmate!au, altered ages of next gen, female OC, Hunter Parrish as Louis, fxf date, mentions of sAd bOI hOuRs

Part 5 of this series | Masterlist | Part 4 | Part 6

Selene has never been fussy when it comes to dating – for her, (so long as the person expressed an interest, didn’t seem oddly clingy, or overly possessive) anyone was game. So, when the attractive Mari Singh (of Ravenclaw house) asked her out… well, she said yes.

Mari and Selene had been ‘classroom friends’ for years, so she had supposed it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. Their rapport was friendly enough, and Mari was an attractive girl, so there was no real reason to say no.

Plus, Selene happened to know that she was the first girl that Mari had asked out since her coming out over the summer. Selene felt that she had a sort of duty to treat Mari to a wonderful time, setting a good example of what Mari should look for in a partner, should she choose to date again. Too many people let themselves be in bad circumstances, simply because it’s all they knew, and Selene wouldn’t let Mari’s kind soul be one of those. Selene wished she’d had a person do the same for her, when she was younger. It would have saved her a lot of broken hearts.

In the end, the two girls arranged it for their date to be the first Hogsmeade trip, which was on the last day of the month. The two of them were going to end up spending their entire time there making awkward but friendly conversation, and drinking butterbeers – there was never much to do in Hogsmeade, after all.

If anyone was asked to go off and experience Hogsmeade, they’d come back and say that it felt as if the village had been unchanged for hundreds of years. Contradicting that analysis was the known fact that many of the buildings were only two decades old, as some of them had to be repaired after the war. And, the war memorials and plaques in the middle of the village were only a few years old themselves.

Despite the newer builds, the town was one of the oldest magic-only communities in the United Kingdom – there were much older communities in remote areas of South America, Asia, and in concealed tribes all throughout Africa, though. There wasn’t much to the small town, just a joke shop, a sweet store, a few small trinket shops, a pub or two – basically; nothing much for the teens whose only chance at an off-campus activity was a monthly trip there.

So, yeah, dating at Hogwarts was kind of the worst.

Louis didn’t find out about the date, until what he would consider the last minute.

On the eve of Halloween (a Friday that was surprisingly mild for the season), Selene and Louis found themselves once again at their usual haunt – a large, wooden table located in the back of the ginormous hall that was the library.

Said teens were staring intensely at the parchments clasped in their respective hands. Louis’s happened to be a letter from his mother, a long winded one that was reminding him to try and ‘stretch’ in his veela form weekly – the fact that she went on to describe how it may feel similar to a female’s period was why he was contemplating an attempt at trying to burn it with his gaze. Selene’s parchment held the notes that she’d taken down in Charms earlier that day – at that moment, they weren’t making any sense to her.

“Louis? This new Charms stuff, I don’t get it. Help me out over here?” Selene’s interruption was received warmly by Louis, as Fleur Weasley (nee Delacour) had, in her lengthy letter, began to describe the severity of her monthly flow to her teenaged son.

“Go ahead.” Louis eagerly ditched his parchment to the side, one-hundred-percent ready to never read it, ever again. “Was it the wandless stuff we started this week? On Tuesday?”

Selene sent him a confirming nod, going into her dilemma, “If I’m casting a charm like ‘protego totalum’, how am I supposed to control what I’m casting it on? It’s, uh, pretty important that it’s cast on the right thing.”

Louis was momentarily distracted by the way her brows furrowed together in obvious confusion, sending his mind spiralling. By the time he managed to force his stupid veela brain to focus, he realised that he had succeeded in the task of being weirdly silent for close to a minute. If there was a wizard-god, then Louis prayed to them that Selene would just think he was seriously contemplating her question and coming to a slow conclusion. “I guess it could be one of those charms that are always going to require a wand. Or, you can just think super hard while casting.” Louis let out a breathy chuckle.

Entertaining this thought, Selene muttered, “I don’t know what wizard-kind did before they realised they could use a wand.”, as she flipped over her parchment.

It hadn’t been a real question, but none the less it had amused Louis to think up an answer to it. He chuckled, crossing his arms on the table to rest on, “I can just imagine it was a bunch of people awkwardly performing ‘accidental magic’, like when we were kids.”

His words caused Selene to laugh too, as she pictured people in old-timey clothes waving their arms accidentally and setting something on fire. “The first person to use a wand must have been like; ‘what?’!” Selene’s face got slightly warmer, as her breathing was interrupted by her chortles, “They were like ‘Bartholomew,” Louis had to cover his mouth in order to hide the snort of laughter he produced at Selene’s excellent impression of the ‘Bloody Baron’. His uncle’s impression was nothing on hers. “Thou hast pick-ethed up a stick, which doth work well-eth’ at mastering thoust powers’.”

Both of them had stomach cramps, trying to contain their laughter. Louis had tears building up in his eyes, and his face was turning red. Selene had doubled over, laughing mostly silently, the only sound being her inhaled breath and the slapping of her had against her knee. Their ‘quiet’ laughter was eventually drowned out by the librarian’s shrill cry of, “Get out of my library if you’re not going to follow the rules!”

Hurriedly, the two of them pack up all their belongings, erupting into occasional giggles every time the two caught each other’s eyes. They burst from the library’s entrance, and the Gryffindor and Slytherin stumbled along the large corridor. By the time they’d reached the end of the long hallway, they both decided it was best for them to start making their way to their respective common rooms.

There was calm silence for ten minutes.

Eventually it was broken. “So…” Louis’s shoulders were hunched over a little, his hands looking as if he’d shoved them as deep as he could, into the pockets of his school trousers. Making himself look smaller was his main way of coming off across nonchalant. However, the only thing he looked, was uncomfortable. “The, uh, first Hogsmeade trip is tomorrow. Are, um…” He paused to inhale some confidence, “Are you going to go?” Louis wanted so bad to shout out, to ask (or even beg) her to go with him on this trip. The sixth-year could imagine it now; the two of them wander the lanes of Hogsmeade together, their noses getting redder the longer that they’re out in the cold… their breath visible and intermingling, as they get closer and closer… maybe, a kiss? Oh, Louis wanted nothing more than that.

“Yeah, I-” Selene argued with herself. She shouldn’t have felt uncomfortable (awkward?) telling Louis about her upcoming date… and yet, she did. Which was absurd, because they were friends! “Uh… Actually, I have a date.” Merlin, Selene’s stomach squirmed. She felt awful admitting this to Louis, even though there was no need to, at all. Her nerves made her ramble, “With Mari Singh, from Ravenclaw. I think she’s in your Transfiguration class?” Selene went on, her mouth moving a mile a minute, but Louis heard none of it.

The blonde boy felt like he’d been physically hurt, despite knowing he certainly had absolutely no true right to feel as pained as he did. Selene Morgenstern was his soulmate, sure, but she didn’t know that. He hadn’t informed her that destiny (and, he guesses; his veela instincts) had fated them to be together. Plus, he was pretty sure that he hadn’t let on about his romantic feelings towards her either.

The Slytherin was her own person, and as such; allowed to date whomever she wanted…

But Louis was allowed to be upset about it. Even if it was irrational to be so. Boys (well, really, he’d insist that he was closer to a man, now) could be emotional too! However, he wasn’t going to expose said hurt feelings to Selene. He was upset by her words, but they were just friends… just friends, even if he did have different sentiments towards her.

Everything Louis Weasley had been taught by his family as a child was blooming into fruition in this moment; good friends support their friends – no matter the personal consequences.

As if the gods above had granted him lee-way, Louis’s turning to go up to the Gryffindor Common Room was fast approaching. “Well, uh, you have a great time! I’ll see you later!” Hastily exiting the situation seemed to be the only way to end this conversation, plus Louis was finding that his eyes were quickly filling with tears, and he didn’t want Selene to see them.

“Uh, thanks, Louis! See you!” Frantically waving at the back of the already turned-away boy was not the way a cool and collected Slytherin behaved. For love of Merlin, why was she acting like this? In true Slytherin sentiment, Selene ignored the way her stomach clenched up the moment Louis was out of sight. “Ugh, I need to get more sleep.”

Louis spent that night clutching his pillows tightly to his trembling body, desperately trying to not burst into his veela form. It was exhaustingly difficult to hold on to his human form, as his veela’s desire to fly away from all the pain he was facing was almost too powerful. The teen was virtually bursting at the seams, due to the effort it took to hold back this side of him.

His heart felt like it was under an intense pressure, as if it was being compressed. And his skin was positively feverish! Every pore along his body was asking for relief. Every muscle fibre itching for some form of freedom that only his veela form could give to him.

And to think, Louis had bitterly mused to himself, all this because I’m jealous. Louis knew, deep down, that he had no true reason to be jealous, or hurt, or sad, or angry. Selene was not his. Not his girlfriend, nor anything more than his close friend! The girl was her own woman. One who can decide for herself who she wants to love, and whom she wants to date.

Still… His acknowledgement of this fact did not miraculously send him into recovery.

Louis remained lonesome and feverish through the night.

There was a problem with Selene’s date.

Or, rather; there was a problem with Mari Singh – well, not really.

Okay, so the issue was with Selene. She was positively sure that there were a dozen other places she’d rather be, than on this date with Mari. The Slytherin clearly did not feel one iota of a romantic stirring towards the bird.

Now, that’s not to say the other girl was not lovely! Mari was smart, pretty, and rather funny - an all-around kind person.

Still, Selene found herself wishing that she was not the one opposite the Ravenclaw in the Three Broomsticks. And, that wasn’t to say it was an awful date! Not at all. It was a… nice affair. They talked over a butterbeer, and giggled at each other’s stories... And, yes; the conversation had been (sometimes) intelligent and (somewhat?) interesting.

Selene just felt like something was missing from it all, though.

“I was like; ‘why does this always happen to him?’!” Mari let out a chortle at her own story. It was a rather long-winded, yet deeply hilarious, anecdote of her families’ latest vacation. Her father apparently fell off a dinghy that the whole family had been sitting in, right into the arms of what may have been a hairy man (or, perhaps, a large bear), whilst not even in the water yet. “Anyway…”

The two female students had slowly been making their way back to the castle. And, now they were standing at the crossroads of where they’d each have to turn away to go to their separate common rooms.

Before Mari could even say anything else, Selene had to be honest with her, “Mari, I had a nice time today, but, uh, I have to be frank with you… I like you as a friend, Mari, but I-” Selene paused, to place her hand on the Ravenclaw’s shoulder and to carefully choose her following words. “I, um, I don’t feel for you, romantically that is.” Mari’s face began to crumble, “I’m sorry, but I had to be honest with you. It would be cruel for me to get your hopes up like that. You’re my friend but sparing your feelings now would only hurt you later. Right?”

Mari mulled the words over, but finally nodded her head softly.

Selene removed her palm from the other girls’ shoulder. She felt obliged to offer up some information that might soften the blow she’d just been dealt, “Plus, it wouldn’t be fair to Naomi…”

Mari’s head tilted to her left, “Gnomes?” It was a cute nickname Mari had for her roommate, fellow Ravenclaw Naomi Gardener. “W-Why would it be unfair to her?”

Selene heard the thinly veiled excitement in her voice. It was well-known within the female population of their respective year-group, that Naomi Gardner fancied Mari Singh. It was true that pretty much everyone knew that, but only Selene heard said information first-hand from Naomi. “Well, Naomi may have mentioned something to me… But it’s probably best to ask her about it.” She leant forward, pressing a friendly peck to Mari’s cheek, “Thank you for a lovely time, Mar.” Sending a wink to the girl, Selene began to walk away. “I hope we’re still friends, Mari! Good luck!”

Louis didn’t expect to see Selene the next morning.

Not because he assumed that something… like that... would happen between the two girls. No, not at all! Rather, Louis was surprised to see Selene, since he had decided to try to avoid her altogether.

Also, the idea of seeing her in the boys’ bathroom was incredibly surprising.

“Um, hello?”

Carefully, Louis angled his entire body away from the approaching teenaged girl. As quick as he could he tucked himself away and buttoned up his trousers. Due to his complexion, the flush on his cheeks was all too visible. Even knowing she could see the blush; he tried his best to act casual as he walked over to wash his hands. Selene was in his peripherals the entire time.

“So,” Louis shook his hands out, getting them dry enough to wipe against the fabric against his thighs – he didn’t even think about using his magic or wand to dry them. “Uh, what brings you to the men’s bathroom?” Before he could embarrass himself, he tucked his hands into the back pockets of his trousers. It was an attempt to seem casual.

Selene let a faux look of sadness creep onto her face, “Well, when I saw you practically running down the hallway when you saw me coming, I figured I should check on you.” She rested her shoulder on the wall to her right, “After all, I am a good friend.”

Louis’s was sure that his heart was going to jump out of his chest. Even though he knew that she was being a nice person, a great friend, his veela hindbrain was absolutely screaming at him. Surely that meant she was accepting the bond! Checking on her mate, right? Merlin! Louis had to snap himself out of those thoughts, because they weren’t facts. He knew first-hand that not thinking truthfully only damaged your own feelings.

“I- I just,” Louis was tongue-tied now. How exactly could he explain that he didn’t want to hear about her amazing date with bloody Mari Singh? “Well-”

Selene cut him off, not wanting to hear any of his poor attempts at lying to her, “I wanted to vent to you, about my date last night.” She rushed out first, before pausing. The Slytherin was gathering herself, choosing her next words carefully. “It was alright.”

The male noticed the lack of enthusiasm in her description of the event. His stomach lurched in awkward excitement.

She let out a quiet laugh, “You know… I was going to talk to Emmaline about it all, but-” Her head lolled to the side as she thought hard, “But I don’t know, I just-” Eventually, Selene pushed off the wall she was leaning on and strolled closer to the him. “I guess I just really wanted to talk to you.”

Louis was sure that he wasn’t breathing. “Oh.” In fact, he was pretty sure that he hadn’t been breathing for Selene’s entire speech. “Okay. Yeah... Alright.” Taking his hand from his pocket, he gestured over towards the exit of the bathroom, “Shall we, then?” Yes, that was normal. If only his heartbeat could chill out, too.

Luckily for them, there was only one first year in the otherwise empty hallway. Said single first year awkwardly still stood, deer-in-headlights-style, as they witnessed the two elder teens exit the boy’s’ bathroom together.

“So,” Louis was trying his best to seem calm, “It didn’t go well?” He paused, before clarifying, “Your date, I mean.”

The two of them were back in the school’s library. It was during a shared free period of theirs, and like always Selene and Louis were nestled together at their table. Heads were pushed closer to one another than strictly needed, both attempting to talk as quietly – they were in fear of the librarian, who had already given them both the most scathing look when they’d walked in talking.

“No, it was fine.” Selene answered him, her lips twisting into a grimace as she thought over the date, “Nothing awful, it just - it didn’t feel right.” She played with the quill in her hand, “I guess when I’m on a date, I want it to feel nicer than a ‘fine’ or ‘alright’.”

Louis nodded, understanding what she meant. “True.” There was silence as the blond wrote down a sentence or two on his parchment. He could feel the tingle of Selene’s eyes watching him do so. “So,” He began again, “No second date, then?”

Selene averted her eyes from his form, pretending that she didn’t catch him observing her from the very corner of his eye. “Not with Mari, no.” She looked down to her work, and unbeknownst to her Louis did as well.

Both had smiles on their faces.

TAGGED:

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#louis weasley #louis weasley imagine #LouisWeasley #louisweasleyimagine #louis weasley x oc #not reader insert #hp imagine #next generation #next generation harry potter #next gen harry potter #nextgen!#harry potter imagine #hunterparrish #Hunter Parrish #the struggles of a male veela series #the struggles of a male veela #series #harry potter series #harry potter

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laceymorganwrites · 5 years

Text

The story of the sad Chapter 3

Word Count: 2,718

Pairing: slightly hinted Ban x reader

Warnings: cursing

You commenced your journey on the next day, it felt weird picturing the ten commandments coming back. You couldn´t picture Estarossa as a bad guy, not when he was always so kind and caring to you, you remembered him as the perfect boyfriend.

But nevertheless you had to prepare for the returning threat.

How could you know for certain that the seal would last eternally? How did you know it didn´t have cracks in it? You wouldn´t be surprised if demonic activity was detected every once in a while.

The first sin you encountered was a giant girl, Diane.

She instantly fell in love with Meliodas, oh how you pitied her.

Really, you felt sorry for her, he was the first one who saved her, was kind to her, you could only imagine all the insecurities she must have. And most of all you felt sorry because she seemed to think Meliodas reciprocated her feelings, poor girl.

But other than that she was lively, it was nice having someone with this much energy around, it distracted you from everything that was on your mind.

Diane was framed for killing hundreds of the kingdom´s soldiers as well as her clan´s leader, she told you. But the king pardoned her.

You started seeing a theme in your little group that would only grow, all of you were criminals.

You were a war criminal, allegedly changing sides, Meliodas and Elizabeth defied their parents, Merlin tricked the supreme deity and demon king, you were excited for the next fellows.

Maybe this journey wasn´t just to find happiness throughout friendship, maybe it was also about redemption and moving forward and god did you need to move forward.

It wasn´t good staying in the past, especially not over 3,000 years.

You were ancient and you were wasting your time mourning and worrying over someone long gone.

A part of you would always love Estarossa, you knew that, but you also knew that you couldn´t vouch for the sins he would commit should him and his siblings ever arise.

Meliodas joined you at the bar and had a drink with you, he seemed especially cheery today, making you raise an eyebrow.

“What´s the matter with you today, Meliodas?” you asked him, giving him a side eye.

“You know, the usual, I´m on my way to break someone out of prison” he said, not a hint of irony in his voice, you laughed at first before you fell silent.

“Wait what?” you looked at him dumbfounded.

“I mean, I know we have a trope of some sort, all of us are criminals, but do we have to take it that literally?” you asked him.

Meliodas patted your shoulder, grinning from one ear to another.

“I have a good feeling about this! Later!” he announced before he stepped out of the door.

And indeed a few hours later Meliodas came back with the man who allegedly burned down the Fairy King´s forest, Ban.

He was handsome for a criminal, his eyes were hiding yet another tragic backstory.

Slowly but surely your sad club of depressive criminals was coming together, you didn´t know whether to laugh or cry.

But you were sick of crying, nevertheless it would take you a while to get used to everyone´s hidden problems, you could feel all of the negative energy surrounding your little band of walking tragedies.

It was honestly like a bad joke.

You only realized it when all of the others came along, King who started a war, Gowther who just wanted a heart and Escanor who had to flee from his country.

What a sad bunch you were and somehow you felt very good in this company, maybe too good, you never truly belonged with them.

You weren´t a holy knight like them, you just tagged along like a misplaced, lost soul.

In the beginning there were difficulties between Ban and the captain, but they grew to be best friends.

It warmed your heart how they had each other´s backs, it was truly magical, their friendship and the bond of the seven deadly sins was something you never had.

You never truly belonged anywhere, the goddess who changed sides your ass.

You never were on a side, you didn´t change sides back then, you just stopped fighting and people made a big deal out of it.

Meliodas and Ban would often stay up and talk all night, talk about their sins and curses, about their loved ones.

And one night when sleep didn´t come for you you found yourself lying awake, sick of the same thoughts rushing through your head.

Estarossa would come back as a different person than you knew him, he would come back to destroy Britannia. You couldn´t defend him, he wouldn´t be the person you loved anymore.

It was finally time to move on, you were so scared of abandoning the necklace he gave you, you felt as if you´d forget him, the good times you had with him.

But that wasn´t the case, as soon as you took off the necklace, you felt relieved, it was as if the little piece of jewelry stopped you from moving on.

You walked down the stairs to sit at the bar and have a drink with Meliodas, you thought he was still awake.

Instead it was Ban who was sitting alone at the bar and drank.

He was… something. You couldn´t quite wrap your head around him, you didn´t know what drove him to be with the sins, you didn´t know why he and the captain clicked so well, you didn´t know anything about him except for the false allegations about him and the obvious fact that you wanted to know him better.

Maybe that was why he intrigued you so much, it was like when you first met Estarossa, you felt yourself drawn to him in a way you never did before, you were so sorry for the boy. And that sorry turned into caring, and caring turned into love.

And yet the interest you felt for Ban was so different from Estarossa´s, it felt more intense, you had this rush every time you glanced at him.

It must be his eyes you told yourself, this intense gaze his ruby orbs gave that made you so weak.

Or it could be the way he smirked, as if he could read you so easily, his fangs screamed danger but all you wanted was to get closer.

And then there was the whole tragic past and sadness aspect.

You loved broken boys.

But this was different from Estarossa in so many ways.

You wanted to fix Estarossa, you wanted to make his pain and hurt go away and ignored the fact that you had to bend and break to do that, you ignored the fact that it was simply impossible.

Fixing someone meant breaking yourself.

You didn´t want to fix Ban, at least not intentionally.

You didn´t know what you wanted from him, if you even wanted anything at all, you were merely intrigued by him.

He was always so closed off, yes he liked to party and was funny and loud and raised some hell, but that was all just a shell, that wasn´t who he was, just an exaggerated personality to hide his pain.

Maybe you were thinking too much about it, but you´ve seen it before, hell you´ve experienced it on yourself.

“Drinking on your own is quite sad, don´t you think?” you made yourself known with a slight smile.

“Join me then?” he gestured to the stool next to him and smirked at you.

You did sit down next to him and poured yourself a drink.

Thinking about how to spark a conversation with him and struggling with it more than you anticipated, time went by and it was only then that you noticed Ban staring at you intently, awaiting what you had to say.

“Do you plan on staring at your mug all night, staying silent or did you actually want something?” he asked, sounding a lot more impatient and rude than he intended to, cursing himself in his head.

Truth was, he wanted to talk to you, get to know you, he just didn´t know how to, he wasn´t good at things like that. Besides it would be disrespectful to Elaine and he hated himself for his stupid heart stopping whenever you were in his view, it just wasn´t fair to the fairy girl.

He swore to never talk to you, keep his distance, pretend to be indifferent about you, but nothing worked.

“Actually I couldn´t sleep and thought Meliodas was still awake, but only found you” you answered, sounding annoyed.

Ban remembered the nights he stayed up with Meliodas and they talked about Elaine and Elizabeth, how they felt guilty and were unable to move on.

He did ask the captain about you but he only said Ban had to ask you himself. All he told him was how you were the goddess that changed sides, Meliodas also told Ban to tell you those exact words.

“Disappointed much?” he chuckled, taking a big sip from his ale.

You grunted, ignoring the pang in your chest.

“Why are you here, Ban? Why are with this little club of the sad?” you asked him straightforward.

“Meliodas broke me out of prison, remember?” he remarked.

You sighed.

“You´re not making this easy for me…” you finished your ale and filled up your cup.

“I have no idea what you´re talking about, but if you want a sentimental night, drinking together and getting to know me, you´re in the wrong place. You don´t want to know me, you´re not gonna like it” he pushed you away but you weren´t giving up.

“You know that saying that only makes me want to know you more, right?” you teased him and he groaned.

“Okay, tell me, goddess who changed sides, what the hell do you want from me?” he whined.

Your eye twitched, that damn Meliodas, he was so gonna get it in the morning and not in the good way.

“First of all I don´t want anything from you, so get that out of your head. Excuse me if I want to know the people I´m traveling with. And second, don´t ever call me that again, there will be consequences. You don´t want to anger me” you threatened him.

You didn´t know what kind of reaction you expected but Ban full on laughing at you wasn´t one.

“I didn´t know you had it in you, maybe you should stop playing sad princess once in a while and actually be yourself” he murmured.

“And you of all people know who that is because?” you snapped at him.

He smiled sadly.

“Cause I´m also just a sad bastard pretending not to be…” for the first time he opened up about his feelings to you, yet you didn´t feel like you achieved anything.

“Tell me about it” you whispered.

“You go first, princess” he grumbled.

“I´m not sure you want to hear my story, it´s not really that interesting. Basically I was a warrior for the goddesses, but when the holy war came and my unit was assigned to attack purgatory, slaughtering civilians and children I just couldn´t do it. Not all demons are bad people, you know? They were innocent, they haven´t wronged us before. But I didn´t change sides to the demons, I ran away with Meliodas and Elizabeth. But that had consequences of course, we were cursed for defying our leaders and each of our curses was worse than the other. I was only cursed with immortality, which to me is still bad enough. You might think being immortal is great and all, living forever, but the truth is being immortal just makes you crave death.” you let him in on the deepest parts of your soul.

“I know exactly what you mean.” he took another sip. “Fuck it, I´m gonna tell you my story too, but don´t make a big deal out of it, I already feel crappy enough about it. You know how I was in prison cause I burned down the fairy king´s forest? Well, it wasn´t me. It was a demon but it still was my fault. I wanted to get the fountain of youth but as Elaine told me the forest would die without it, I gave up. But I stayed a few days, she was the sweetest thing I ever knew. And then this fucking demon came and burned it all down, ripping a hole through her chest because my stupid self didn´t know demons had more than one heart… he also got me and Elaine… I told her to drink the fountain and she did but then she kissed me, forcing me to drink it. And I just…” he started sobbing, you panicked, not knowing what to do you embraced him in a hug. You didn´t know Elaine had a boyfriend, she never told you. But then again, Ban hasn´t been immortal long. You watched her grow up, you were devastated when you heard the news, you could only imagine how horrible Ban must feel, blaming himself.

“It should´ve been me, you know? She didn´t deserve to die, it was my fault, if only I could´ve protected her...” he cried, holding onto you tightly.

You listened to him, not saying anything, just holding him, trying to give the best comfort you were able to.

Your heart broke for him, he was right, it wasn´t fair. But then again, nothing in life ever is. It wasn´t fair that Elizabeth died, it wasn´t fair that innocent people had to die, it wasn´t fair that all of you were cursed, useless violence wasn´t fair, but that was just the world you lived in.

And you, you just accepted it? You were angry at yourself, you should stop all of it, you should fight alongside the sins.

“I´m going to have to kill my boyfriend.” you broke the silence, it was the first time you spoke up about the inevitable, slowly tears also rolled down your cheeks.

“His name´s Estarossa, he´s sealed away with the other demons, but he´ll come back with his siblings and when he will he won´t be the one I remember him as. It´s just hard for me to admit to myself that the one I love is gone, and for the longest time I forbade myself to move on. I loved him, a part of me always will but what´s gone is gone and when he comes back I can´t let him kill the people I care about. I´m not saying you should move on from Elaine, but maybe you should start thinking from her perspective. She saved you, died for you, the one she loved. Don´t you think it makes her happy that you´re alive? Don´t you think she´d want you to keep living and be happy?” you whispered into his chest.

“You don´t understand… It´s like I killed her with my own two hands, there´s no atoning for that. I don´t deserve to be happy, or loved, or alive” he whispered the last part, making your heart sink to your knees.

You didn´t know what tragedy was until you met him and it changed you, changed the way you thought about your own problems, that let´s be honest, weren´t that dire in comparison.

“I know you probably don´t care about my opinion, but I do very well think you have every reason to be here, even if it´s just to listen to me whine about my boyfriend. And Ban? I think everybody deserves a second chance, you most of all people. I really hope you find your happiness some day” you told him, but he was already asleep.

Meliodas was standing in the doorway, giving you a cheeky look.

“I´m going to fight with you” you told him, ignoring the look.

“What made you change your mind?” Meliodas asked, even though he already knew.

“I want to protect the people I care about, I can´t just sit around like a useless bag of potatoes” you said, suppressing a yawn.

“A bag of potatoes ain´t ever useless” Meliodas laughed.

“It´s late, besides, if you cook them, they might as well be useless” you chuckled, going to bed.

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paladin-pile · 6 years

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What “Pilot Personality” do each of the Voltron Characters fall into?

This has been sitting in my docs for exactly a year under the title “stupid freaking meta” cause it was a pain to write. But it’s been on my mind so I thought it was time for another post, based on my experience as a pilot and member of the aviation community.

As I was making this I realized that this might be some good fanfiction material for y’all, so enjoy. (Fyi: every pilot-related example or description I use in this post is a real life true story/situation that I have heard or experienced! Nothing made up.)

I began learning to fly at age 16, before I learned to drive. I got my pilot’s license at age 19 which was almost 6 years ago, and it’s safe to say I’m just a little obsessed. I spent years around pilots from all walks of life, and very quickly caught on to the fact that there are different types of pilots, but still a common thread that goes through everyone.

When I sat down one day in July 2016 and watched Voltron for the first time, I was immediately smitten. It was everything I loved: space, flying, technology, awesome characters, all rolled into one. Interestingly enough, I can pinpoint the EXACT SECOND I first fell in love with this show...

I literally paused the episode here and texted my friend about how I had found the new Big Thing in my life. This was it, this show knew us. As I continued watching I was thrilled to see each character be such a fabulous example of the different types of pilots and have a lot of deep threads I resonated with. I’m going to go through each main character and describe what “type” of pilot they fit and why. So buckle up folks, this post is Hella Long. First up,

Lance

It may be hard to believe, but I speak from experience when I say the vast majority of pilots are exactly like Lance. Even if your normal personality is not like his, he amplifies the traits that are inside every one of us. It doesn’t matter what your personality is like on the ground, your pilot personality can be a lot different,

Lance isn’t scared.

These are the kind of people who live for dives and stalls, pitching down the nose and laughing maniacally as the engine builds up to a whine and the ground fills the windshield. In order to get to this point, you have to be really comfortable with the aircraft, know what it can do and what it can’t. This kind of boils down to the first point about pilots in general that are illustrated nicely in the show:

Pilot thing #1: You have a healthy fear of what you should be afraid of, but you know you don’t have to be afraid of much.

Personally I have learned to fear only three things as a pilot: birds, fire, and myself (the ‘myself’ point we’ll come back to later when we talk about Shiro). Most everything else is a non-issue and might even be considered a thrill. This doesn’t mean we’re not cautious and responsible, but we’re not scared.

True, imidately following this scene, Lance crashed the simulator (which I also theorize he did on purpose), so it could be argued he’s not that great of a pilot, but the point still stands. He’s in training, we all did stupid stuff in training, I did stupid stuff in training. It’s the attitude we’re talking about here.

* Side dish for thought: I see a lot of the fandom throwing around the term ‘cargo pilot’ like it’s some sort of insult, or ‘oh that’s so boring and has no prestige whatsoever’ but let me set one thing straight: being a cargo pilot is the BOMB, and I would take that over being a fighter any day.

Flying a 180 ton aircraft filled with supplies or troops through canyons and around mountains, low enough to trim bushes and kick up sand, and the satisfaction of yelling “5 tons of toilet paper comin’ in hot!” into the comms is an end in itself. The poor grunts in the back are strapped in like sardines and trying not to hurl at your erratic maneuvers, but they don’t complain cause they know you have to stay low and move crazy to avoid enemy fire. You and your Thicc Baby are proud as anything when every load is delivered safely, whether its potatoes or tanks. (From what we see in Voltron it seems Lance didn’t want to be a cargo pilot, but I have to admit it would have fit him pretty well.)

#2 Talking to your aircraft

There is not a pilot on the face of the Earth that does not talk to their aircraft like it is a sentinent being, and treat it accordingly. No matter how big and tough we are, you can always catch us patting our ship with a dopey smile and gooey eyes, cooing “Hey Beautiful” or any other myriad of pet names. It’s a thing, everybody does it. I don’t pretend to know the psychology.

Keith

Ok story time.

A few years back, I took a nurse’s assistant course and worked in a elderly care home. It was an awful place. Elderly folks who had no family lived in small, dirty rooms, no longer able to care for themselves or sometimes even communicate. I knew everyone on the floor, and tried to show them love as much as possible in their often abusive situation.

One such person was a tall gangly man in his nineties. He was confined to a wheelchair, never made eye contact, and never spoke. Every mealtime we would take him into the cafeteria and sit with him, spoon-feeding because his hands shook too much to hold a utensil. We were encouraged to talk to him as much as we could, even though he never responded and none of us were sure just how mentally present he was.

One time I went into his room, I noticed something. On the rickety table at the end of his bed was a small, dusty photo frame. It held a picture of dashing young man in an Air Force uniform with sharp eyes and half-smirk, a curly-haired little girl in his arms. One of the nurses told me that was him and his daughter. Since we now had a little something in common, I decided to bring it up at the next mealtime.

“Sooo, I saw your picture on the end table,” I hedged, holding out a spoonful of potatoes. I didn’t expect a response, and sure enough, he remained staring at the table blankly.

“You were in the Air Force, huh? That’s pretty neat. I’m a pilot too, but I’ve haven’t flown anything very exciting.” I held the spoon to his mouth and he took it, swallowing slowly.

“P-38’s or P-51’s are my favorite,” I rambled, scraping together the creamed peas. “There’s something about the sound of that Merlin engine that can’t be beat!” I hummed and shook my head with nostalgia. The fighter planes from WW2 had always been my favorite. With the next bite ready, I turned back to him, and almost dropped the spoon in shock.

His head was lifted, back straight, staring at me with such intensity I almost thought he would leap out of the seat. My mouth hung open, spoon frozen midair, and for a moment I sat there in disbelief. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes, bright and fiery, overflowing with words he couldn’t speak. Finally, I recovered enough to smile, wishing I could hear what he wanted to say.

“I love flying,” I whispered, “There’s nothing like it, is there?” His eyes stayed locked on mine, and it was a long time before he could be coaxed into taking another mouthful.

Here’s where I’m going with this. Pilots like Keith are from an era that no longer exists. His are the type we can only find in the silent annals of history, like WW1 and 2. Pilots who were called “knights of the air,” unorthodox and brave in every sense of the word. Cutting out engines and making impossible maneuvers that pushed themselves and their aircraft to the limits and beyond. Split-second, all or nothing stunts that shouldn't have worked but did, pilots that flew by pure instinct and blood running like fire through their veins. Pilots who couldn’t let go of the controls when they landed because they had been gripping them too hard, too long. Pilots who would wait till the very last second to bail out of a burning plane so they could direct it to crash into a target, pilots who coaxed their plane to finish a mission even though half of it was missing, oil was smearing over the canopy, and hydraulic fluid was dripping down their legs. Pilots that got into a new plane that had just been designed and no one knew what it could even do, and flew it anyway. Kamikaze pilots who put their plane into a dive toward a target, knowing it would be the last thing they ever did.

They fought a war, some of them won, and they all disappeared.

The nature of air war isn't like that anymore--with the advent of supersonic jets and drones, the era of the fighter pilot is all but gone, and the gritty sword fights in the sky have become extinct. Even those who are fighter pilots today are given strict guidelines, and risks are reduced to a minimum.

Pilots like Keith don’t exist anymore because they are not born, they are only made under certain circumstances.

The closest you will get to those kind of pilots today are probably bush pilots, they’re pretty much the only ones left that push everything to the limits, fly with no rules, and rely on instinct. But for now, that spirit of Keith, that “you fight like a Galra,” drive, that extra sense and lion-heartedness...are only found in museums, in monuments, and in gravestones.

Shiro

Shiro is a classic fit to what we call a “Jet Jockey.” Responsible, hero-type, yet still a massive dork; the guy you’d see in charge of the Thunderbird demonstration team. He’s a leader, calm, charming, and fierce. It’s in the blood, in the way they walk and smile. When you hear the term ‘you got it or you don’t,” these people definitely “got it.”

They’re perfect, polished in the exterior, but what you sometimes will not notice is their vulnerability. Most all of them have lost close friends, hold some kind of loneliness or sadness in their chest, something that only the love of the air can soothe. Be nice to these guys. People like to put them on a pedestal, but they need human companionship to not let lost in the sky.

I’d like to take a moment here to share my insights from aviation relating to Shiro, namely, Pilot Error, and the Kerberos mission. I see a lot of content in the fandom of Keith and the Holts being outraged that anyone could suggest that the Kerberos crash was caused by pilot error. The typical response is along the lines of, “Shiro was the best, the brightest, most skilled and responsible student, he would NEVER make a mistake like that.”

That’s bullshit and every pilot knows it.

From our very first day in flight school, this concept was drilled into us until we could recite it in our sleep. Mistakes happen to everyone, no matter how good you are or how much experience you have. You think, “Oh I would never do that” or that just because so-and-so is legendary they can do no wrong. It happens every day and the best pilots are not immune. The vast majority of crashes are caused by errors by pilots who are not dummies. It’s the go-to answer when no one is quite sure what happened because it’s the most likely reason. It sobers the rest of us, thinking “that could easily be me,” but we don’t doubt it or get outraged cause we know it can happen to the best of us.

People are prone to make mistakes for no reason, when we know better. It just…didn’t even cross your mind at the time. You thought you were doing the right thing. It’s happened to me personally and I very nearly got killed, but it really opened my eyes to the whole issue.

Semi-related to this is a theory I’ve been toying with: that Shiro getting chosen to pilot the Kerberos mission was a controversial and even scandalous decision. Here’s the cold hard facts: There is no way Shiro was the most experienced pilot at the Garrison. Even if he was a prodigy and had insane natural talent, someone that young just does not have the experience that an older pilot that had been flying for years would have under his belt. Shiro was probably so good that some of the higher-ups at the Garrison wanted to assign him to Kerberos, but the other portion were against it, saying it wasn’t smart to be sending someone so inexperienced, no matter how good he was. When the Kerberos crew disappeared, it could easily have become a huge, maybe even public scandal, where the people who opposed the decision were crying “I told you so!” and citing what a mistake it was to assign someone so young.

The youngest astronaut NASA ever sent to space was 32 years old, and she certainly wasn’t in charge of anything at the time. The youngest person ever in space was a 25-year old Russian cosmonaut named Titov who was essentially strapped into a capsule and launched into orbit to test what happened to the human body in zero gravity for 24 hours (not pleasant, they found out). He was also the second human to go to space, when we knew pretty much nothing about anything. I can’t imagine the guts this guy had, knowing he was going up as an experiment. The whole story is worth checking out. Honestly this sounds more like something the Garrison would do, and the whole situation adds to the suspicion that something is fishy in the place.

Experience rules, I cannot emphasize this enough. It doesn’t matter how “good” you are or how fast you learn, the guy with more experience will always be better than you, no matter how old they are. For Shiro to be the most experienced at such a young age, all the other older pilots and instructors would have to be dead or medically disqualified, or something.

Short end of it is, there is no way Shiro was the best pilot at the Garrison, or the best choice for the mission. Even if he was a prodigy and at the top of his class, which I’m sure he was, that’s not what the higher-ups use to make a decision. Of course, this whole theory might be moot. The creators most likely put Shiro on the Kerberos mission for plot reasons only, but realistically is a little different story.

Hunk

Hunk’s category of pilots hold a special place in my heart: the mechanics. They probably otherwise would not be pilots, but it’s convenient to be able to fly the stuff when they’re running checks. Always covered in grease, their second home is in the hangar, tending to the planes like a kind doctor to a child with the flu. They listen to the aircraft. It’s more of a technical relationship, not quite as mystical as the other pilots tend to portray it. For the Hunk-type, it’s dissected into moving parts.

These folks are NICE. My best friend in training was a mechanic named Bob, who was a ray of sunshine and the sweetest guy absolutely ever. He was also HUMONGOUS, and it was always a kick to seem him squeezing into a tiny Cessna 150 with a squinty-eyed smile and a cheerful “Let’s see how she does!” He would never fly more than a few trips around the pattern.

“Nothing major,” he would say. “I’m not gonna do any crazy stuff like these guys,” *points thumb over shoulder at the Lance-like pilots drinking coffee* “Just little trip around the pattern so I can check out what I did without having to wait for another pilot to take ‘em up.”

They talk up a storm, they ramble. Mechanics tend to make fun of pilots for knowing nothing about how the airplane works, and have gut intuition like no one else. You LISTEN to these guys when they have a hunch or you. will. die.

Pidge

Pidge’s type of pilots are fun to be around. Curious, in the learning stage, usually teenagers, enthusiastic and eager, wanting to be a pilot for the intellectually stimulating reasons (“I read all the fighter manuals”).

I’m reminded of one of the students who was training at the same time I was. 5’4, short cropped hair, large aviator sunglasses, devouring the training books with quick wit and banter with the instructors. She also would roll up to the hanger in her sporty convertible right after getting her drivers license, blaring “Sexy Back” loud enough to shake the propellers off the nearest aircraft.

They may not have the ingrained, primal love for hardcore flying that pilots like Lance, Keith and Shiro have, but to them it’s cool and they love it for their own reasons. It’s a stepping stone to something greater, more knowledge, laid out before them like the rolling landscape far, far below.

Allura

When we’re sorting Voltron characters into pilot categories, Allura drops with a perfect little clink into the box marked Female Helicopter Pilots.

If you’re looking for folks that are Tough, who can catch grenades in their teeth while brandishing two sub-machine guns and walking through fire, you’ve come to the right place. Arnold Schwarzenegger's got nothing on these women. Don’t cross them, they can most likely bench press their own helicopter. They instantly generate mad respect, you feel like bowing whenever they walk in a room.

Fixed-wing pilots and helicopter pilots are two very different breeds, and usually are very loyal to their respective aircrafts. Most airplane pilots wouldn’t be caught dead in a helicopter and vice versa. Of course there are exceptions, but the accepted culture is for the two groups to rib each other, kinda like cat people vs dog people.

These pilots have a beaming smile and deceptively sweet twinkle eyes. These are people who have whipped the butts of every obstacle given to mankind, stared death in the face and beat it with their bare fists. I might be exaggerating here, but this is the feeling one gets when coming across these women.

Coran

Oh Coran, you are one of the most iconic pilot types, and the one folks are most likely to encounter hanging around any small airport. The middle-aged-and-older folks that fly to to other cities for lunches, dubbed “$100 hamburgers.” They are chipper, wear shorts and Hawaiian shirts, and like to reminisce about the good old days. I am not exaggerating. Most of them are hobby flyers or retirees with eccentric senses of humor and very large amounts of money, maybe more than one plane and an antique car. If you start talking to one, be prepared to spend a while. They are a bottomless well of tall stories of glory, belly laughter, and that snark and slightly odd sense of humor that can turn dark if the right subject is brought up.

All together, pilots are a colorful bunch. Most everyone fits into these basic categories, but there’s a common thread through it all. Love, almost to addiction. Once we get in and taste the crisp air aloft, feel the vibration of the aircraft beneath our fingers, hear that ethereal voice speak to us. There’s no going back. It calls and calls and calls, and the farthest star is too close to hang our dreams.

Hope this has been helpful or interesting to someone. Please feel free to come by and talk to me about anything!

#pal meta #Voltron #Lance #Keith #Shiro #Hunk #Pidge #Allura #Coran #aviation #pilots

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