#he is so Soft for merlin the fluff practically writes itself

[endlessymphony]

Congratulations on your first 50 followers! Cheers to many, MANY more to come!!

🧸Draco Malfoy, fluff 💚☺️Please?

thank u, thank u! of course i can write that <3

i’m so happy you’re alive.

pairing - draco malfoy x reader

summary - post-war, draco and the reader don’t know if the other is still alive- but are reunited soon after

warnings - light cussing, some sadness at the beginning and mentions of the war (i PROMISE things get better)

a/n - this one was so cute. literally crying whilst writing this one.

hogwarts was in ruins. stray bricks laying about the courtyard that used to be full of laughter and students chatter. even the sky was dreary and grey, as if it sensed all the pain that was present far below it. the students and faculty who managed to survive were huddled together- but no one really had much to say.

bodies upon stretchers littered the great hall, many of which faces that you recognized. teachers who had taught you during your years at the school, who welcomed you and took you under their wing. friendly faces were mixed in amongst the wreckage, people who would say ‘good morning’ to you as you passed them in the hall or even flash you a small smile in between classes.

those who you didn’t recognize were heroes, wizards who had stepped up and risked it all to save the world that they knew and loved.

you had watched draco and his family walk away amidst the battle, the pain and fear on his face was something that was permanently etched into your mind. you wanted to call out for him, to cry and beg him not to leave. however, you couldn’t find the words to say, and it was probably better to leave some things unsaid.

your head rested in your hands as you sat with the rest of the group, staring down at your muddied shoes and dirty pants. war was never clean. your whole body was tense- anxiety coursing through your veins. ‘is he safe?... is he alive?’ you wondered, replaying the look he gave you when he left.

you had never seen such terror present within someone’s eyes- hell, you had never even seen him upset before.

his eyes bore into you, tearing a hole straight through your soul, and making themselves a home within your mind. you would never be able to forget that look.

you removed your head from your hands, a small sigh escaping your lips. looking down at the ring that draco had given you before the war, the physical form of the promise he made you keep.

“never forget me, y/n. promise me.”

his voice echoed through your skull, head pounding as the noise ricocheted. you recalled how he smiled as he placed the ring upon your finger, how happy and innocent his eyes were in comparison to the ones you saw today. you played with the ring, it bringing comfort and soothing the anxiety that had rooted itself deep within.

a few days had passed since you last saw him, but his face never left your mind for more than a minute. you assisted with the cleanup as best as you could, taking a small break to sit on the cool cobblestone pathway that once served as a bridge to the castle- but was now practically a junkyard for broken glass and the rest of the wreckage.

you found yourself zoning out, staring at the ring which adorned your left pointer finger. you couldn’t help but reminisce on the good times, tears starting to pool in your eyes as draco’s face and voice came back into your minds eye... it seemed to haunt you, but pleasantly, if that was possible.

“y/n.” his voice rung through your head again, seeming to sound a lot closer than before. you hummed, relishing the few moments that you could recall.

“y/n!” came his voice again, your brows furrowed as you attempted to figure out where it was coming from. the voice knocked your out of you daydream, vision coming back into focus.

you lifted your head, looking around for the source of the voice. “draco?” you mumbled under your breath, slowly standing up from your previous spot of rest.

“y/n.” the voice was even closer now, and so was a figure practically dashing towards you. you started to piece it all together- the silvery hair, pale skin, black suit. your heart leaped in your chest.

the tears that brimmed your eyes began to fall, coating your cheeks. you ran to meet him, almost tripping over your feet as you went as fast as your legs would carry you.

draco scooped you into his arms, an arm coming up to cradle the back of your head as he spun you around princess style. “my beloved.” he said, voice sounding hoarse. “i was so worried that something happened to you.” he continued. draco pulled away from the hug to put you down, hands cupping your face.

he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and you shut your eyes gently. “i’m so glad you’re here.” you say in content, hands snaking themselves around his waist as you pull him as close as possible.

you missed his touch, his warmth, him.

“i promise that i’m never letting you out of my sight ever again, merlin, i don’t think i can survive without you.” his voice was barely above a whisper, his forehead pressed against yours. yours eyes flickered open and met his blue ones, the look of adoration replacing the fear that lived in your mind.

“i’m so happy you’re alive.” draco pulled his face away from yours once more, tucking your hair behind your ears. “are you injured? does anything hurt?” he starts checking around your face for any bruises or scratches.

“draco, i promise i’m fine. i’m so much better now that you’re here.” you smiled, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. he chuckled, chest rumbling slightly, “you never miss an opportunity to be cheesy, do you?” draco teased.

“oh shut up, just kiss me.” you mused, smile growing larger as you relished in his embrace. body beginning to relax- after all, you were practically putty in his hands.

and he did just that; kissing you until your lungs felt like they were going to burst, until you felt light headed and dizzy, until you knew you would never forget his lips, and until you knew you were at home at last.

#endlessymphony’s 50 follower picnic! #harry potter universe #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #hp fandom #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco fluff #draco angst #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco fic

[minty-malfoy]

reading between the lines

• pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

• summary: draco takes you on a date that involves lots of hand holding and a cozy bookshop.

• request: Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Draco malfoy imagine where he and the reader are dating, and he takes her for a hogsmeade date at a bookshop, because she is a bookworm, and they pick books for each other and he pays for everything?

• word count: 2.9k

a/n: no thoughts head empty just draco fluff. this is meant to be a breather after all the angsty love triangle fics i wrote for this boy

oh & this would've been out way sooner if I stopped being too much of a perfectionist (which I did like midway) so yeah I'm finally putting it out and just hoping for the best. my writing style had a weird identity crisis when I was working on this, but let's pretend it didn't. enjoy!

"Cold, isn't it?"

You look up at the voice's owner, only to catch a mixture of sympathy and a terribly smug I told you so on his pretty face.

Despite your scoff, you know he's right, and so does he. The chilly autumn air was penetrating through the fabric of your coat, mercilessly tickling the skin underneath; feeling like an in between that's neither as icy and cold as winter, nor as warm and friendly as summer. Regardless, it's something that your boyfriend, whom your fingers are laced with, doesn't seem to like.

"C'mere," he finally grumbles, tugging you closer towards him. "Merlin, (y/n), couldn't have underdressed more than this, could you?" he says bitterly, but his eyes display the complete opposite. You've learned to recognize the glint of affection in his orbs quite easily by now.

"I was in a hurry!" you exclaim with a wide grin that betrays your stern excuse. "And you don't have to be so rude and mean about it."

"Well, pardon me for being against the idea of my girlfriend freezing out in this weather. Now enough of that, give me your hands," he orders, because the only other thing Draco would be against is the idea of arguing with you, especially when it's over such trivial things. This was just his way of deflating the situation.

You eye him curiously as his hands rub into yours, enveloping them completely with his own. Then when he catches you staring, a small smirk finds its way onto his lips. Suddenly he's lifting one of your hands to his face, holding it right under his mouth before placing a few soft breathy kisses there. Even with the fabric of your glove in between, you can still easily feel the warm contact of his lips.

You can't tell whether it's due to the cold air that a blush paints itself on Draco's cheeks, but you decide not to think about it, because now you're looking away to hide a blush of your own.

Both of you continue walking with hands still entwined, letting the air glide around your bodies softly. It's a complete juxtaposition of the ecstatic impatience pulsing through your veins, all contained behind your soft smile that Draco doesn't need to point out or question. He knows you're excited, and he knows the reason perfectly well.

You've been giddy ever since he proposed taking you on a bookshop date. After all, it involved two of the things you loved most: Draco Malfoy, and your undying passion for reading. It was no secret how often Draco found you deeply engrossed in a book, without fail making him feel awestruck and simultaneously envious. Not that he would ever admit he got jealous over an inanimate object, of course, and least of all to you.

Deep down, Draco's more than happy to see the joy in your eyes when you're rereading one of your favorite books, or the cheerfulness in your smile after picking up a new one. He loves you and your hobby all the same.

When you finally make it to the bookshop, you practically have to hold back from stampeding directly into it, pursing your lips into a line to contain your enthusiasm. This, of course, doesn't go without Draco's notice, and you don't mind the chuckle he sends your way. You're far too occupied with the thought of gliding your fingers over the eclectic book collections.

He pulls you inside gently while eyeing your reaction the entire time, and frankly, he can't help but melt at the way your eyes light up in childlike wonder, the way you take in the familiar scent of parchment, and the way you finally turn to him with an uncontainable grin.

"I have a proposal to make," you announce, unaware of the way your grin makes his heart skip a bit.

"Should I be worried?" he smirks.

"We should pick a book for eachother!"

Draco thinks over the idea in his head for a moment or two, finding it hard to deny that it was rather pointless to him. Neither of you are sure what the other would like, and for the most part, his concerns are true. But then again, it's the way your smile brightens up at the idea, coupled up with his curiosity as to what you'd possibly pick for him, that ultimately leads him to accept the suggestion.

You give his hand a light squeeze before finally pulling away and parting to another section of the bookshop. Draco's left to stare at his empty hand with an obvious frown. Maybe he shouldn't have agreed to this, he thinks, as he's missing the contact already. All he wants is to have you nearby, to see the enthusiasm in your face from each book that you pull out. But when his eyes meet yours in the far off corner of the bookshop, he smiles tenderly, and decides to let you be. There's always more time for physical affection later.

Back in your spot in the bookshop, you're already eyeing the countless racks of books in wonder, roaming over every cover and title curiously. For once, you're somewhat thankful to have time and space to yourself from the blonde slytherin. To select a book for him, you would have to be methodical and punctilious. Neither are ever easy when he's around, when it feels like your rational thinking is all turned into mush. Hence, rather than wasting a single second, you immediately focus on the task at hand.

For a brief moment, you wonder if Draco had already deduced the type of book you'd get him, considering how obvious it is by the section you instantly went towards.

Non-fiction, the factual informative reading that might suit his tastes and interests. Something under astronomy seems to make the most sense, although then again, you assume he already knows most there is to know under that natural science. School related studies like potions and transfiguration cross your mind as well, albeit briefly, because you're not sure what good it would be to give someone a book on something they're already quite good at.

You toss your thoughts back and forth as your fingers fumble over multiple books, hoping one of them could strike you with a burst of inspiration. But it isn't until a peculiar idea lights up like a light bulb in your head. You didn't necessarily have to give Draco something he would like, as long as your choice would be meaningful and thoughtful.

That's exactly how you make up your mind and gingerly pull out a certain book with a content smile, keeping it tucked under your arm as you continue to browse the selection for a few books for yourself.

"All done, love?"

You spin around in one swift motion, quickly hiding the book you chose for him behind your back, although it wasn't the easiest thing to do when you had a couple other in your hold.

"What do we have here?" he cheekily tries to catch a peek, but you're already backing away spontaneously.

"It's a surprise!" you squeal, and Draco already has his hands held out innocently, chuckling slightly when he says, "Alright, alright. Now let's go purchase all these books."

You follow him to the cashier where you hand over all the items you've been holding. You reach for your purse in the bag you had with you, rummaging around for it with your fingers. But when you finally pull it out with a triumphant smile, you find that Draco has beat you to it, and he's already paying for all the books you chose.

You give him a look that says that's not fair, but you know it's just one of his many ways of showing his adoration for you.

He picks up the paper bags and begins heading towards the exit, where he's stopped midway by a kiss on the cheek. In other words, your little way of thanking him.

"keep doing that and I'll end up buying you this entire bookshop," he tells you in a half joke, betraying the fact that deep down he's rather serious about the idea. Draco Malfoy had come to a point where spending money was the least of his worries when it came to you.

"Tempting," you hum. "but you know I'd rather do it for free." you get up on your tiptoes again and plant a second kiss on his cheek, as if to prove your point. His hand reaches for the spot with an affectionate look directed your way; not entirely used to receiving the loving words and gestures that you give him.

"There's another bookshop nearby. Fancy giving it a look?" he asks with a wink.

You let out a faux gasp, smacking his shoulder playfully, "If you want more kisses, all you have to do is ask! And besides, I'll make sure to give you lots of them when we get back."

He smiles widely, leaning closer to whisper in your ear, "Well, I'll make sure you stay true to your word on that."

The two of you giggle as you finally walk back out into the outdoors, where the cold air greets you before anything else could. You're trying your best not to shiver, mainly out of knowing it might ignite a second wave of Draco's lecturing. Not that he'd notice, really, he's far too busy staring at that pretty smile of yours and how much he wants to capture it with the matching one on his face.

And he almost would have if you didn't snap him out of his thoughts, reaching for a specific book and pulling it out for him to see. It didn't take much to figure out what you were doing, so he grabbed a book of his own before you both exchanged the two items.

"How did you know what I'd like?" you ask him, gazing at the hardback under your fingers, feeling the texture you've become familiar with against your skin. But when Draco doesn't respond, you take a glance at him with a raised brow.

"Romance?" he blinks in confusion a few times, struggling to hide the surprise at your choice of what was, frankly, not his cup of tea. He's not entirely sure on what to say, so you fill in the silence for him.

"I know it doesn't suit your tastes, but I thought it would be nice to get you something I like instead. Kind of like showing you a part of me that you'll only understand through things like books."

He looks between you and the book, processing the explanation that you gave him. Until finally, his signature smile is back on his face and he says, "I won't promise that I'll like it."

In moments like these, it was easy to read between the lines, when Draco showed his love through actions much more than words. "I won't promise that I'll like it" rather meant "I'm willing to give it a shot only because it means something to you" and it held a larger amount of affection than he let on.

"What?" Draco asks, noticing the stupid lovesick grin decorating your face.

"Oh, nothing. You're adorable."

He raises a challenging brow to match his response, "I think either menacing or charming is far more suitable. Adorable is far off the list." but you still notice the blush on his cheeks. It's not that hard to miss, honestly, with the color of his skin.

"I stand by my statement."

Draco nearly snorts at this, already thinking of an alternative counter argument. One quickly comes to mind, "Try telling that to someone like Weasley. Bet he'd puke before he could even begin proving you wrong."

You roll your eyes, "Well, he's not the one you're snogging or taking on bookshop dates, is he?"

Draco sucks in a sharp breath, stuck between finding it useless to continue the disagreement while also grimacing at the sudden image of him snogging Ron Weasley, likely a potential nightmare fuel to haunt him in his sleep.

"Please never mention that thought ever again," he begs you before switching the conversation to a lighter topic. "Where would you like to head to now, my dear?"

You already have an idea in mind, and you have the feeling Draco would like it just as much.

• • •

And like it he does, although that word is nowhere close to describing the fondness he feels in the moment; having you tucked in between his legs with your back against his chest, the both of you hidden in a spot beside the Black Lake where no one would be around to disrupt.

You melt into him, feeling every intake of air that enters his respiratory, eliciting the soft rise and fall of his chest. You feel every thud of his heartbeat against your skin and every single vibration of his occasional humming.

His free hand is wrapped around your waist to pull you closer into him, where his thumb is absentmindedly rubbing your skin every now and then. It all turned reading into a nearly impossible task, which was a first for someone like you.

"How's the book?" you ask him in hopes of a distraction— which you earn far too easily. Instead of the book in your hands, you're now fixated on the way Draco's lids flutter when he blinks at you, and the way he licks his lips that have gone dry from the crisp air.

"Underwhelming," he begins. "These two idiots are clearly in love, and it would've all been over by the first chapter if either of them made a move."

Draco had thought that this comment was enough to make you attempt reasoning with him; to defend the fiction novel he was reading. What he did not expect, however, was to hear you giggle, bright and clear as day.

He looks at you in confusion, hoping to get handed an explanation.

"You do realize that's exactly how we were back then?" you utter, looking into his grey eyes once again. Both of you take a moment to recall the memory, smiling silently at the image of two clueless lovesick idiots wondering if the other liked them just as much.

"Hm, I suppose if you put it that way." Draco finally affirms. His fingers begin reaching for yours, where both meet in a loving entanglement. "Honestly, (y/n), how was I supposed to know you fancied me when all you did was bloody look away?"

"That's only because I was too nervous to look at you!" you huff out. "I'm beginning to think I should get you more of those romance novels."

You don't hear a reply, but you feel the smile in his lips as he presses soft wet kisses into your skin, followed by the hot breaths that are a contrast to the freezing air. Draco notices this fact from the tiny shivers of your body, and he begins to pull away gently.

"Come now, love, we should head back inside before it gets too cold."

You pout at his offer; enjoying yourself in the current activity far too much, even if you've left the reading part of it unattended. Having Draco's arms around you with your fingers laced together was all that mattered.

Your lover frowns at your reaction, wishing you weren't so stubborn when the cold is biting your skin, but he makes sure to vocalize a second offer; one he knows you wouldn't refuse, "I could read to you in my room if you'd like."

And that's all it takes for you to beam an appreciative grin at him.

"And someone would have to warm up that body of yours. Can't exactly do that out here," he adds, referring to the darkening sky and the decreasing temperature enveloping your bodies. But you seemed to have misread his statement, or perhaps you were purposefully trying to tease him. Either way, a smirk was sitting on your expression that didn't go unnoticed.

"Not in that way, love," he drawls out, letting out a small laugh that vibrates into your skin. "Unless that's what you'd like?"

Your hand immediately comes into contact with his chest in the form of a playful smack, although you can't hide the amused smile on your face. In turn, Draco dramatically gasps out, "I've been wounded!"

For a moment, all that exists is the sound of your laughter coming together like a muddled up choir and the feeling of fingers wrapped together. When the laughter dies down, and you're finally brought back into the present, you pull Draco into a warm hug. You savor the scent of his familiar cologne and the sound of his thudding heart, wishing you could stay that way for the slightest bit longer.

Although it takes a few seconds for him to wrap his own hands around your frame, when he does, it feels nothing short of perfect. His head rests in the junction between your neck and shoulder, where you can feel each of his warm breaths stroke against your skin.

"We should go on these bookdates more often," he suggests, and with the happiest smile you tell him, "I'm not against that idea."

draco taglist — @arossebyanyothername @kawaii-angelanne @thefandomplace @yuosmi @bbeauttyybbx @mywellspringoflife @slytherinsunrise @avatarbeeb @scarlet-says-hi @lunars

#harry potter #draco #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco fanfiction #reader insert #draco x reader #draco x y/n

[drowsy-writer]

Snadgers and Casts — regulus black x reader 

Summary: After a mishap during Quidditch practice, Regulus is sent to the hospital wing. Good thing Reader's there to cheer him up.

Warning: nothing except for tooth rotting fluff

Notes: reader is a Hufflepuff and goes by she/her pronouns. Also for those who haven’t seen gravity falls, there’s a picture of a snadger at the end :) thanks for reading!

Everyone knows how violent Quidditch can get. Some people fell and broke a few bones, others got their jaws shattered by a Bludger, and an unlucky few met their untimely ends whilst chasing the Snitch; all in all, Quidditch was not a sport for the faint hearted. And Regulus Black was far from faint hearted. But invincible? He was not.

Laying in one of the beds within the Hospital Wing, Regulus fiddled with the bandages littering his fingers as he waited for Madam Pomfrey to come back from her daily rounds. Quidditch practice that day had gone on like usual until one of the newer players, whose name Regulus ought to know but forgot, miscalculated a hit on a Bludger and sent it barreling towards Regulus. The hit itself wasn’t too painful but the impact was powerful enough to knock Regulus off his broom and hit the ground with a gut-wrenching crunch.

Now, sitting with an obnoxiously large cast on his right leg and bandages lining both his fingers and face, Regulus sat in his bed with a deep frown.

“Any higher,” Madam Pomfrey had said whilst putting on the cast,” and you’d have much more to worry about than a broken bone.”

Regulus huffed as he tried to move his foot around, only succeeding in wiggling the toes that were peeking out from underneath the cast. He supposed it could’ve been worse, like diving head first into the stands or slamming into a wall, and had half heartedly agreed to Madam Pomfrey to ‘take it easy’ the next couple of days. Regulus chuckled to himself. As if he was one to take anything easy.

“You look like shit,” a voice said. Regulus looked up and despite his best efforts to maintain his signature scowl, the corners of his lips jutted upwards as his friend since 2nd year walked towards him,“must’ve been quite the fall, eh? How’d it feel?”

“What kind of question is that?” Regulus furrowed his brows in amusement as he saw [Y/N] drop her bag into the chair next to her and plop herself down on the edge of the bed,” you know you can use the chair to sit, right? It’s not a coat hanger.”

“Oh, I know,” the Hufflepuff smiled as she leaned back and ran a hand over the cast,” just that I want’ta get a closer look, is all. Heard McLaughlin was the one that made ya fall. Cute kid but an utter clutz I hear.”

“Has terrible aim, too.”

“You’re telling me,” [Y/N] giggled. She looked back at Regulus and the smile that danced on her lips grew wider. Regulus straightened his back and subconsciously swallowed an invisible gulp of air.

“[L/N]?,” Regulus’s voice wavered,” what are you planning?”

“Nothing. Why’d you ask? Something on my face?” [Y/N] smiled again and, jumping up from the edge of the bed, rummaged through her bag until she pulled out a thick, black sharpie. Regulus’s eyes shot up and his back, despite the frigid air of the hospital wing, began to sweat.

“Don’t you write anything stupid on me, [Y/N].”

“I’m not writing on you, Reg. I’m writing on your cast.”

“It’s still on me, though.”

“Potato, tomato. There’s a difference.”

‘That’s not how it—,” Regulus sighed as he slumped further into the mattress, watching as [Y/N] shuffled over to his foot with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes,”—just don’t write anything stupid, please.”

“You already said that,” [Y/N] said as she began to doodle. The sound of marker on fiberglass stung Regulus’s ears and he recoiled slightly, jerking his leg away from [Y/N],” hey! Stop moving! You’re gonna mess it up.”

“I’m sure it’ll be alright,” Regulus mumbled. As the room fell silent, Regulus watched as [Y/N] continued to draw on his leg. A soft smile played on his features as he watched [Y/N]’s face contort in concentration, tongue stuck out in deep thought. He felt a familiar warmth blossom in his chest and slowly creep up to his cheeks. As his face reddened, Regulus quickly looked away and found that the small scratches on the bedside table were far more interesting than whatever his friend was doing.

Sparing a glance towards [Y/N], Regulus saw her smile once again and stand up triumphantly.

“Take a looksie, Reg.”

Shifting his foot around so he can see, Regulus couldn’t help but hold back a quiet laugh.

“Is that supposed to be a snake? What’s wrong with its head?”

“No. It’s a Snadger,” [Y/N] pointed at the crude drawing and circled her finger around what appeared to be a head of a badger placed on the body of a snake,” y’know? Like a snake and a badger?”

“Sure. But why’s it look angry?”

“It’s not angry! It’s smiling. Can’t you see the teeth?” Regulus’s smile grew wider as he watched [Y/N]’s cheeks turn red in frustration. Combing a hand through his ebony locks, Regulus looked back down at the drawing and laughed once again. [Y/N]’s face turned a shade darker as the Slytherin continued to laugh,” what’s so funny? At least I can draw.”

“No, it’s just that—,” Regulus took a deep breath to compose himself before looking back at [Y/N], watching as she nervously shifted her weight from one side to the other,”—thank you, [Y/N]. I needed a laugh.”

“Course you do. You’re always so uptight about everything,” [Y/N] said. She threw the marker on to the chair and plopped herself down on the bed next to Regulus, ”bet if I shoved a coal up your ass, there’d be a diamond in a week.”

“Very funny, [Y/N],” Regulus sighed as he glanced down at his bandaged fingers and picked at one of the loose Band-Aids. A [S/C] hand stopped Regulus from picking it any further and caused his gaze to flutter upwards. With a lopsided grin, [Y/N] laughed as she intertwined her fingers with Regulus’s. He raised a brow,” what are you planning now?”

“Nothing,” [Y/N] leaned closer to Regulus and the Slytherin swore he felt his heart stop for a second. Eyes drifting from [Y/N]’s gaze to her mouth, Regulus felt his own mouth get dry as the Hufflepuff whispered in his ear,” just can’t wait till you read what’s on the other side.”

“What?” Regulus’s face paled.

[Y/N] let go of Regulus’s hand as she jumped off the bed and threw her bag over her shoulder. 

“See you tomorrow in class, Reggie,” [Y/N] smiled as she spun around and began to walk towards the Hospital Wing’s doors. Regulus quickly sat up and leaned over, a mix of panic and confusion drenching his features.

“What did you do, [Y/N]?! What did you write? I told you if you wrote anything stupid—!”

“Oh, calm down, Black!” [Y/N] called from the door,” it’s nothing too ludicrous! Well I mean—all that matters is that it’s funny! Don’t worry about it! Everyone’ll get a kick out of it!”

“Merlin, what did she—?” Regulus tried and failed to raise his leg,” [Y/N]? [Y/N]! Hey! Get back here! Tell me what you wrote! [Y/N]!”

----

here’s a Snadger :) and yes, reader wrote the snadger and drew hearts around it as well

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagines #reader insert #hufflepuff #slytherin #slytherpuff #fluff

[iliveiloveiwrite]

love is all you need // G.W. (celebration fic)

Request: Okay one more cause I love you're writing. Can you do a George x Reader friends to lovers trope with fluff prompts 5 and 14?? I appreciate you and everything you do! Congratulations, you deserve it!! ❤❤ - @mischi3f-manag3d

Fluff 5: “Take my bed for the night. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Fluff 14: “How about a kiss?

A/N: Thank you so much! Here is your request! I haven't written for George in so long! This is a load of fluff and a load of comfort. I’m sorry it’s not longer but I hope enjoy anyway!

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of an argument, mentions of arranged marriages, but it really is a load of fluff.

Word count: 1.8k

You aren’t sure how often you’ve knocked on his door; raised your fist and brayed it against the fading red paint that George always promises he’ll paint over but never does.

It’s no different now as you stand before his door, knocking three times before taking a step back. You glance on either side of you; biting your lip, second-guessing your decision to come here instead of blowing off steam another way.

“(Y/N)?” George greets; opening the door to your harried state, “What’s wrong?”

You blink away the fresh wave of tears; you thought you had cried yourself dry but the familiar burn in the back of your throat proves otherwise. “Can I come in?” You whisper; pointing into the flat he shares with his twin.

George nods; standing aside to let you enter. He won’t outrightly tell you that he’s worried; he’s sure you already know.

“I’m sorry for just showing up,” You mutter; looking down at your hands, shuffling from side to side.

George waves away your apology after shutting the door, “Don’t be. You’re always welcome here.”

You nod your head; throwing yourself onto his couch dramatically only to sit up immediately when you realise the absence of his twin. “Where’s Fred?” You ask.

“At Angelina’s,” George calls, heading to the small kitchen, “Do you want some tea?”

“Love some.” You shout back over the sound of now heating kettle.

George leaves the kitchen; letting the kettle boil. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed. With a soft expression on his face, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You raise an eyebrow, “What makes you think something is wrong?”

George scoffs, “Come on now, love. I’ve known you since Third Year, I know when something is bothering you.”

You sigh heavily, “It’s my parents.”

“What happened?”

You go to open your mouth, but you’re interrupted by the kettle beginning to whistle. George holds up a single finger; telling you to hold that thought as he makes the tea. He’s back in no time, however – handing you your mug before settling on the couch next to you.

With a nod of his head, George tells you to continue.

“I know they mean well, and I know they want the best for me but…” You trail off; feeling that all too familiar lump start to form in your throat.

“But?” George prompts after a moment of silence.

“But I just wish they would stop pushing.”

“On what?”

You throw your arms out wide; almost spilling your tea, “On everything! They’ve never been happy with the fact that I chose to become a professor instead of working in the ministry. They never accepted the fact that I was sorted into Gryffindor and not Slytherin like the both of them. To top it all off, they hate the fact they can’t control me.”

George chuckles lightly; placing a hand on your knee, “Love, tell me something I don’t already know.”

You glare at him, “That’s not the worst part.”

“What is?”

Tears build in your eyes; lining them with silver, “They want me to marry,” You rush out in hushed tones.

“Marry?” George asks; voice astounded.

You nod your head; tears slipping, “They’ve got it all fixed apparently. Found a ‘lovely’ suitor; someone I’m sure to love in time,” You frown, “In time? No. I should already be in love with them if I’m to marry them.”

George sighs; taking both your mugs and placing them gently on the coffee table, “You don’t have to marry them.”

“That’s what I told my parents. That’s why I’m here.”

“How bad was it?”

You laugh mirthlessly, “Bad. I’ve never seen them so angry; kept telling me that the betrothal was already arranged and that for me to back out now would be a stain on the family name. After that, I walked out. I didn’t want to see or listen to them.”

“So you came straight to me?”

You nod; slumping against the redhead as the fight leaves your body, leaving you drained and tired. “I didn’t want to see anyone else; I only wanted to see you.”

George’s heart practically sings at your words; sending a shock of electricity through his body. He’s harboured feelings for you for as long as he can remember; he wouldn’t admit this to another soul, but he has spent so long daydreaming what it would be like to the be the one to hold you on a night and then to be the one whispering good morning before kissing you awake.

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, asking, “What do you plan to do?”

You shrug your shoulders, “The only thing I’m certain of is not going through with the marriage, but I don’t know what will happen with my parents.”

“They need time to cool off,” George comforts, “You all do.”

You nod wordlessly. George shuffles closer to you; wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Do you want to stay the night? Talk to them in the morning?”

You peak up at George from under your lashes. Nodding, you answer, “Please.”

George nods, smiling at you reassuringly, “Take my bed for the night. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You shake your head; holding onto the redhead that little bit tighter, “Stay with me?”

His eyes narrow; unsure, “Are you sure? I don’t mind, it’s quite a comfy couch.”

You roll your eyes at his attempt at humour, standing from said couch and checking the clock, “I’m sure. Let’s go to bed, George.”

George takes your outstretched hand; pulling himself up from the couch. You’re both exceptionally quiet as he leads you to his room; it’s not like you haven’t been in there before, but this meant something more to the both of you.

Dropping your hand, George rifles through his drawers, grabbing some old clothes of his for you to wear through the night.

“Are these okay?” He asks quietly; holding out an old t-shirt and some joggers.

You take them from him; rising up on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. Pulling away, you whisper, “Thank you, George.”

Shutting the door to the bathroom, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. The upset and the anger caused by your parents has dissipated leaving behind only excitement and anticipation alight in your eyes. You didn’t think that George would agree to sharing a bed with you despite having done so in the past, but you didn’t want to be alone, and all you wanted more than anything was to be held by him.

The reflection in the mirror smiles at the hope in your face. The reason for being so adamant with your parents about the arranged marriage was that you had already given your heart to another, and he was just outside the door getting ready for bed. Your heart was never stolen by the Weasley; in fact, you gave it quite willingly, handing it over to him unknowingly through your time with him at Hogwarts.

He’s owned your heart and has been the main character in all of your daydreams since you were a teenager worried about essays and Quidditch try outs.

You put George’s t-shirt on; inhaling the familiar scent of gunpowder and honeysuckle.

Leaving the bathroom, you find that George has already slipped into bed. He’s pressed himself against the wall; giving you the option of wanting to leave the bed should you change your mind through the night.

You share a small laugh as you slide into bed next to him; settling under the covers, feeling more at ease now than you had all night.

“It’s going to be okay,” George whispers.

“I know, I believe you,” You reply, and you did. You believe him wholeheartedly; he may throw pranks and make jokes, but George is well aware when he needs to be serious and is always there with open arms and a patient ear.

You feel his shrug under the covers, “Besides, if not, we’ll run away together.”

Smiling, you answer, “An entirely too tempting idea, Weasley.”

He beams at you and with a flick of a switch, George turns out the light and the room is sent into darkness.

There’s something about the dark that makes men brave; that make it easier to confront truths and feelings. There’s something about the dark that is made for lovers; grazes of fingers and the brushes of lips.

It starts with an outstretch of hands; fingers bumping clumsily in the limited light of the room. Smile grow on both faces as they become tangled; his fingers wrapping around yours tightly.

It follows with him bringing your hand to his lips; placing a gentle kiss on the back of it before letting it drop back down to the space between you both.

In the dark, George finally whispers what’s been on the tip of his tongue since you announced it, “Don’t marry him. Fight it, please.”

You turn onto your side. You can just about make out the outline of his figure in the dark, but you don’t need to see his face to know that those words cost him. Even though can’t see you, you shake your head, “I’ll fight it tooth and nail.”

George releases a long sigh; his hand squeezes yours as he says, “I want a chance.”

“A chance at what?” You ask; throat constricting with the hope rushing up from your stomach.

“A chance to be with you,” He whispers; the words taking shape and filling the room. He runs a hand down his face, “Merlin, (Y/N), I’m mad for you.”

“You are?”

He nods; moving closer to you. You meet him halfway; almost startling when you feel his body align itself with yours.

“I’m mad for you too as it happens,” You comment lightly; your voice filled with emotion.

The thick tension leaves the room upon the uttering of your words leaving behind an atmosphere filled with relief and happiness. George laughs as he turns onto his side, utterly delighted at your words; tangled hands forgotten as he reaches for you. One of his hands slips underneath you as the other wraps around your waist; he holds you to him, pressing kiss after kiss to your hair.

You fist a hand in his t-shirt; the other one slipping underneath, running your nails across the toned expanse of his stomach. He shivers at the feel of your touch, twining your legs together so there isn’t a part of you that isn’t touching.

Tilting your head back, you run your nose up the length of his neck. Humming at the intoxicating scent of his skin – the honeysuckle becoming stronger the closer you are to him.

“George?”

He hums; arms instinctively tightening around you, “Yes?”

A wicked grin breaks out across your face; all thoughts about parents and marriage disappear as you look into the face of the man you love and ask, “How about a kiss?”

George doesn’t need to be asked twice.

******** General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @birdie-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @kylosleftbuttcheek @xfirstfemale-marauderx @dreaming-about-fanfictions @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon

George Weasley taglist: @susceptible-but-siriusexual

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fluff #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #george x reader #george x you #george x y/n #george fluff #x reader #george weasley reader insert #reader insert #fluff #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #my writing

[salazarslytherin]

happy days (f.w x gn!y/n)

requested: nope! send in your own requests here!

summary: in which fred takes y/n on a special date

cw/tw: like maybe 0.5% angst, 99.5% fluff

word count: 2.9k

🃛 masterlist!

a/n: i'm pretty sure reader is gender neutral in this one! i made sure not to use any pronouns or prominent mentions to y/n's body or anything. i really hope y'all like it, i don't really ever write fluff so i hope it's good! please leave a comment, like or reblog to help boost xx

“Jump!”

“What?! Are you insa-”

⚔︎.

It was probably a bad idea to be doing this. Actually, it was most definitely a bad idea to be doing this. But when has a ‘bad’ idea ever deterred the infamous Fred Weasley? In fact, the thought of anyone calling one of his ideas ‘bad’ just spelt encouragement in Fred’s mind.

You’d learnt that lesson two months into meeting the Weasley twins, and it’s only engrained itself in your mind further since. There’s never been a point to try to dissuade Fred, it’s best to just go along and hope the ride isn’t too bumpy along the way. After dating Fred, these bad ideas had expanded themselves to different categories- risky places to be intimate, weird ways to cheer you up with confessions of love, and dangerously stupid dates.

The last category was where today’s bad idea landed.

⚔︎.

Three days ago, Fred had the “most ingenious, marvellous, uniquely exciting date idea Hogwarts has ever seen!” He’d disappeared in the middle of lunch, dragging George along with him, mumbling to himself, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner!”, leaving you confused, sat alone in the Great Hall.

“Where are they going?”

Harry, Ron and Hermione popped up behind you, seating themselves down in the twins’ now deserted seats.

“I have absolutely no clue.”

⚔︎.

That’s how you found yourself here, two days later. A Saturday, you were all set to go on a Hogsmeade trip with some of your Ravenclaw friends when Fred ambushed you. Popping up out of a closet and scaring the living lights out of you, he dragged you behind him, laughing as you shouted at him.

“Freddie! What are you doing? I’m supposed to go meet Renee and the others right now!”

Regardless of the fact that Fred was making you miss plans you’d already made, you were beaming from ear to ear.

“Georgie’s already told ‘em you can’t make it. Now hurry up

This being your OWLs year, you’d hardly had the time to see Fred this term, busy studying while he went off doing whatever it was he did when you weren’t around. Being a year younger meant he had already studied everything you’d studied, and while he offered to help you a lot, you’d rather he go have fun than sit around revising old material with you.

Combined with the Triwizard Tournament and the fact that the twins saw this as the golden opportunity to sell products to customers other than Hogwarts student, you’d only had three dates in the almost three months since school had started.

“Where in the name of Merlin are you bringing me, Fred!”

“You’ll see soon enough darling!”

⚔︎.

Soon enough turned out to be ten minutes later, the two of you panting as you’d finally made it all the way across to the other side of the castle and up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower.

The sun was shining brightly down upon the two of you, the tall windows welcoming the late November winds into the room. A chest sat next to one of the ledges, Fred finally letting go of your hand for the first time in ten minutes, reaching down to open it.

He took a piece of cloth out, closing the chest before you could sneak a peek at the contents, tucking the wooden box under his arm.

“Is this the brilliant date idea you were talking about the other day? I’m not going to lie to you Freddie, cloth doesn’t really scream ingenious to me. In fact, it seems like you brought me up here to clean.”

Raising your eyebrows at the ginger, you gestured at the fabric in his hand as he laughed at you, stepping up onto the ledge.

“Fred? What’re you doing?!”

The boy turned towards you, holding out a hand.

“Come up here.”

Your eyes widened.

“No! Are you insane?”

Fred’s hand faltered a bit, arm relaxing against his body as he looked into your eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

Silent, you stepped up next to Fred, clinging onto his hip and arm, knees shaking slightly at the height you were at.

“I trust you with my life.”

Adjusting the chest under his arm, Fred pulled you into his embrace.

“That’s good to hear. Because it’s time.”

He looked down, dropping the piece of cloth, before tilting your head up to look at him, stepping one foot off the ledge and into the skies.

“Jump!”

“What?! Are you insa-”

You were cut off by screams erupting from your mouth as the ground disappeared below you- Fred pulling you with him, laughter bubbling from his chest.

“Oh my God, I’m going to die-”

You reached the ground a lot quicker than you’d thought possible, your eyes squeezed shut, bracing for the imminent death that would come.

Instead, you felt a weird, soft surface, almost like a water bed, rippling under you as you landed on your knees.

“Am I in heaven?”

Your eyes opened slowly, eyes meeting the clouds around you, only for a shadow to cover the sights surrounding you.

“No, but I think I am.”

A kiss landed on your lips as you fell back on the odd surface, Fred falling on top of you.

The kiss was short and sweet, but quickly forgotten as you remembered what had happened moments prior, hitting Fred on the chest as you took in your surroundings.

The surface you had landed on wasn’t a surface at all- in fact it was, a rug? It looked eerily similar to the cloth Fred had thrown off the tower earlier, only, about thirty times bigger, and flying.

You looked at Fred, confused. The tall ginger boy beamed back at you, gesturing grandly.

“Welcome, to your very own magic carpet ride!”

⚔︎.

After lecturing Fred on how incredibly dangerous the start of the date had been, you finally had the chance to process the reality of the date.

“Where are we going, then, on this magic carpet ride?”

The boy hummed, pulling out blankets and a pillow from the, now enlarged, chest, spreading them around the carpet that was hovering near the tip of the Astronomy Tower, awaiting further instruction from the two of you.

“Well first, I was thinking we could stop by Hogsmeade to get some snacks, maybe buy some of the Christmas gifts you wanted to go get today, then we’re flying off to explore Scotland! Well, the part of Scotland we’re in, anyways. Just for a few hours, then we’ll be back to watch the sunset.”

He looked at you for approval, which you granted with a wide smile.

“That sounds beautiful Fred.”

⚔︎.

Walking around Hogsmeade, Fred had shrunk the rug and tucked it into his pocket, the chest shrunk even smaller than it had been the first time you’d seen it.

“Alright, so I think you’ve gotten enough sugar quills to last you a lifetime. Where to next?”

Chewing on a sugar quill, you scrunched your nose in his direction, pulling him into the quaint little jewellery shop you liked to frequent.

The little old lady who owned the place was one you’d become acquainted with over the past five years, Mrs Kingston never minded that you rarely bought anything, understanding that most of her second-hand jewellery was still quite pricey for a student to afford.

Still, you tried your best to save up and buy the pieces you really liked. Recently, you’d been eyeing a necklace, a simple Celtic knot on a thin chain that shone brightly no matter how much light lit up the room. Mrs Kingston explained to you it was an old betrothal necklace, oft seen in pureblood families back in the Victorian era. It’s now seen worn by a lot of the heirs of these old families- in fact, you’d spotted Draco wearing an heirloom similar to it.

“Mrs Kingston!”

“Hello y/n, how are you?”

Fred nodded at the woman as he shuffled around the shop, looking in the display cabinets with vague interest whilst the two of you made small talk.

Your eyes wandered the familiar glass cabinet, landing on the soft velvet that was empty of the familiar Celtic knot, furrowed brows returning to meet Mrs Kingston's clouded eyes.

“The necklace!”

The woman nodded sadly, looking just as dejected as you felt.

“I'm sorry dearie. A boy came in a while ago to buy it. Might've been one of the ones you came with a few weeks back.”

Your head hung low, muttering out a soft 'oh' as she explained to you, nodding in response.

“It's okay Mrs Kingston. I'll see if there's something else I'd like to save up for instead. Thanks, see you next time!”

Thinking back to the last Hogsmeade trip when you'd come down to the shop, your heart lifted a bit, a smile returning to your face as you turned to face Fred.

“Alright, let's head to the bookstore.”

⚔︎.

The ginger's hand clutched yours tightly, the two of you cuddling under the thick blanket as you flew around mountains, pointing out animals, both magical and non-magical, that you'd seen around the place.

Fred looked at you quizzically. Since leaving Mrs Kingston's, you had seemingly forgotten the necklace. Even more, it seemed like you'd gotten happier since finding out someone had gotten the necklace. During the lunch you two had gotten at the Three Broomsticks, the both of you finding Madam Puddifoot's a bit nauseating, you were practically bouncing on your heels as you spoke to some of your friends about the upcoming Christmas celebrations.

“I thought you'd be more upset that the necklace is gone, I remember you talking about how much you liked it last time.”

You shrugged, a wider smile gracing your lips as you looked at him, nuzzling further into his chest.

“I love it! That's why I'm so happy Cedric got it for me. ”

Fred halted, pushing you away from him.

“I-, what! Why would Diggory be getting you a betrothal necklace?!”

You looked up at your boyfriend, furrowing your brows at his outburst.

“What! You know Ced's one of my best friends. Remember when we came to the shop a few weeks back? You, George and Lee were goofing around and then just bolted while I was telling Ced about the necklace. I guess he just came back to get it for me.”

Fred huffed, rolling his eyes as he heard you talk about Cedric, pulling away from you more.

“How could you be this blind!”

You looked at Fred, a bit hurt that he'd lost his temper at you for no reason.

“Why are you getting so worked up over this? It's not like he's proposing to me!”

The boy scoffed, throwing his hands up into the air.

“Well, it's clear that he'd do it without a thought! The boy's in love with you! That's the only reason why anyone would get you something that expensive!”

You laughed frigidly, shaking your head at how irrational your boyfriend was being, pushing the blanket off of you to move away from him.

“What, he can't just have gotten me the necklace because I'm a good friend? Merlin Fred, he's the only one who's actually been with me to go see the necklace, and is the only one who would logically know to get me the necklace.”

You turned to look him in the eye, your jaw clenching as he turned red.

“Besides, Cedric knows me best.”

Fred let out a frustrated 'ugh!', and grabbed the wooden chest that he'd charmed to stay in one corner, grumbling under his breath.

“You think Diggory's the one who knows you best? You think that he's the only one that could have gotten you the bloody necklace?”

A velvet box was brandished from somewhere deep in the chest, Fred propping it open to reveal a dazzling silver necklace, reflecting the afternoon sun into your eyes.

“The. I don't understand. But how?”

Fred snapped the box shut, moving to kneel in front of you.

“As I said just now, I know you best.”

He popped open the box again, this time moving to remove the necklace from the velvet, lifting it fully into the sunlight.

“I was listening when you were talking to Diggory, and even though I'd run away that day, I knew exactly what you wanted.”

He shuffled behind you, unclasping the necklace to bring it around your front.

“I said that he's in love with you, which I still think is true, by the way, and that's the reason why he would have possibly gotten it for you, is because I love you, and that's why I got it for you.”

The chain clipped around your neck, the cool metal contrasting your warm skin as Fred leaned down to press a kiss above the clasp, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Freddie, I had no idea.”

You spun around to face your boyfriend, pressing a deep kiss to his lips, hands landing on his neck to pull him impossibly closer to yourself.

“Clearly. I had this whole plan! All foiled by your cluelessness. I was going to wait until sunset, with the scenery all around us, then surprise you with it and ask you to be my date to the Yule Ball!”

You looked at Fred, your mouth falling open in shock.

“But you just had to bring up Cedric, and how he 'knows you best'. Maybe you should go with him to the Ball.”

You chuckled at the childishness of the Weasley boy in front of you, the pout framing his lips deepening as you laughed at him.

“Well then maybe you should go with Angie, I'm sure she'd be happy to have you.”

Fred gasped loudly, shocked at the audacity of you bringing up his old crush.

“Don't you even dare suggest that.”

⚔︎.

“How did you think of all this?”

The boy shrugged, opening the chest, to pull out a thermos. You were sat above the Black Lake, watching the setting sun on the horizon ahead, red bleeding into orange and blue.

“Honestly, I’m ashamed it took me so long. Remember this summer when you had me ‘round your place and we watched Aladdin with your parents?”

You nodded, fluffing the pillows to make yourself more comfortable, the setting sun casting shadows on the Weasley boy, making him look even more handsome than usual, if that was even possible.

“At that time, I’d already thought that the magic carpet seemed awfully similar to a broom. Then, that day at lunch some firstie was humming that one song they sang when flying the blasted thing, and I thought, blimey! Why didn’t I think to just recreate the bloody thing! So, here we are.”

While talking, Fred spread the thick blanket to cover more of you, pouring hot chocolate out of the thermos he’d brought into mugs that he’d gotten without you knowing, both shaped in little hearts.

“D’you, um, d’you like it?”

Handing the pink mug to you, a sheen of red descended on your boyfriend’s cheeks, not just from the cold, but also fear and embarrassment, scared you didn’t like the date he’d spent the last three days planning.

“I love it!”

You leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on Fred’s lips, leaving traces of cocoa on them.

“But I didn’t love the part where you made me think I was plunging sixty feet to my death!”

The boy groaned playfully, lying back onto the carpet with his head hanging over the edge.

“I know! I’m sorry! I just thought it’d be exciting! A nice surprise! Besides, did you really think I’d let my lovely little Y/N die? I need you around darling.”

You scoffed, sipping on the hot cocoa as you stared at the Astronomy Tower in the distance, your first and now, final destination of the day, a hand creeping towards Fred’s to hold it in a tight grip, unconsciously afraid he’d fall.

“I don’t know! Maybe this was your ultimate prank! Bring us both to heaven to fight God or something.”

Now it was Fred’s turn to scoff, sitting back up to shove his hands under the blanket, squeezing your hand in return.

“First off, if I ever fought God I’d need George there with me. I don’t think that just the two of us could take him. Secondly,”

Fred cupped your chin with his free hand, bringing you in for a deep kiss, catching you by surprise as you braced yourself on his shoulder with your free hand. His tongue teased your lower lip, making a moan slip out while his tongue entered your mouth. Exploring each other, your entangled hands fell apart- his coming to grasp your neck, bringing you closer to him, yours gripping his hip, drawing circles on the bone.

After what seemed like an hour, but also felt like seconds, the two of you fell apart, breathless as you panted, staring into each other’s eyes.

“I don’t think either of us are making it to heaven darling. Think we’re condemned to hell forever, you and I.”

You looked into his coffee coloured eyes, pupils dilated as he scanned your face, his favourite pastime, memorising every crevice and pore. Your hand found its way to the necklace sitting around your neck, fingering the knot that symbolised eternity in your hands.

“Well if I’m going to burn in hell for an eternity, then I’m glad I’ll be burning with you Freddie.”

#mine #writing #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter oneshot #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #harry potter fluff #fred weasley oneshot #gender neutral reader #fred weasley x gender neutral reader #hp angst #hp imagine #hp oneshot #hp smut #fred weasley smut #fred weasley angst

[retvenkos]

company | r.l.

HP: Marauders Era - Remus Lupin x Reader, slight angst, slight fluff requested

tw: sadness

word count: 900

prompt: "Here. Take this."

Summary: When (Y/n) is feeling low, Remus finds them and tries to raise their spirits.

There were few places in Hogwarts where one could brood in solitude. (Y/n) had learned, throughout their six years at Hogwarts, that one of the few places where one could be truly alone, without the incessant sound of other's happiness, was near the Whomping Willow. Few dared to go near the murderous tree, and even fewer elected to spend time there,  flirting with their demise all for a bit of peace and quiet. 

(Y/n) must have had a bit of a rebel streak.

Finding the perfect spot to sit near the Whomping Willow was a challenge - the tree liked its space, and on one side, it protected itself more mercilessly, as though it were hiding something precious beneath its roots. In their third year, (Y/n) had spent many an afternoon scrambling across the grass after getting a little too close to the Whomping Willow (much to the enjoyment of Sirius and Peter), but they had soon learned the art that was finding a spot, and by their fifth year, they had a particular aptitude for it.

Remus had asked them, once, why they didn't just use a spell to immobilize the tree - it was certainly a lot safer than the alternative. (Y/n) had told him, then, with something soft in their demeanor, that there was a beauty to the tree that couldn't be appreciated if it was forced to stay still. Remus had looked at them a little more deeply at that moment, and (Y/n) liked the way that the weight of his gaze rested on them - gentle but heavy like a thick, weighted blanket.

All this time later, (Y/n) hadn't shaken their odd habit of going to the tree when they wanted to contemplate the sadness that followed them ceaselessly.

The Whomping Willow didn't mind their presence beneath it, slowly inching into its personal space. On this particular occasion, the grounds of Hogwarts were crawling with students, and (Y/n) wanted to get as far away from them as they could, forcing them closer to the tree. Luckily, the willow liked them and chose to refrain from breaking their limbs.

...On this occasion, at least.

"I'm almost positive you get closer to the tree every time you come," a voice sounded behind them and (Y/n) turned. Remus. The boy's hands were stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, a thick sweater protecting him from the bite of the cold. He wore his usual lopsided smile, and his hair was ruffled from the gentle wind that buffeted them closer. 

(Y/n) figured he'd find them, eventually. They jerked their head, beckoning him closer, and he complied, sitting next to them on the frostbitten grass, slowly sprawling out his long limbs, and though waiting for the willow to attack.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"If by 'it' you mean 'everything,' that would prove to be difficult."

Remus nodded his head, turning to look at the world that surrounded them - magical and vast, a little dull from the late resurgence of spring, but still teeming with life. The two allowed for silence to lapse between them, their sighs gentle on the wind, running away from them into the magnificent world beyond.

Remus pulled something out of the pocket of his coat and (Y/n) was greeted with the sound of crumpling wrappers - something they associated all too well with their studious friend. "Here. Take this." (Y/n) took half of a chocolate bar from Remus, the latter having snapped the treat in two, fairly proportionate servings, but giving (Y/n) the larger half. "Chocolate may not fix everything, but it will make dealing with it far more enjoyable."

(Y/n) rolled their eyes good-naturedly as they took a bite, the sweetness lingering on their tongue. Remus was right, of course (he always was), but it didn't make the idea any less childish - like they were still first years, eagerly waiting for dessert to give them enough enjoyment to continue their studies.

"Should I always expect you to be carrying around chocolate or is this a one-time mercy granted by Merlin himself?"

"One-time, for now. This was my last piece until we go back to Hogsmeade - or until James is stupid enough to sneak there on his own."

(Y/n) hummed, the ghost of a smile gracing their lips. "Your last piece, huh? I'm shocked, Rem - coming from you that's practically a proposal."

Remus chuckled, something light and airy that would have been self-conscious, had he not been so comfortable beside them. (Y/n) joined him, scoffing at their own terrible joke, and when they finally sighed, there was something lighter in the air - warm and kind.

(Y/n) turned to Remus, fixing him with an appreciative sort of stare - the kind that only they could get away with and still call themself nothing more than a friend. "What are you doing out here? Besides choosing your company poorly, that is."

"You don't think checking in on you is a worthy enough cause?" (Y/n) sighed and looked down. Remus continued, his voice dropping in volume, soft enough for only the two of them to hear. "Well, I think it is. At least this way, you're not lamenting alone."

(Y/n) smiled to themself, their eyes still fixed on the ground. They picked at the frozen grass beneath them. "Well, I suppose I could suffer through your company."

"Then I suppose I'll stick around - just for a little while."

-- taglist: @musicallisto, @theletterhart, @locke-writes, @randomfandomimagine, @brokenandheadoverheels, @timeofmadness, @writerdream22, @lotsoffandomrecs, @neelia-thedaughtherof-athena, @coffee–writes, @lenalxvegood, @cooloaflandhero, @swanimagines, @noesapphic​, @amortensie // message me if you want to be added!

#hp #hp marauders era #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #reader insert #gender neutral reader #young remus x reader #young remus lupin #slight angst #slight fluff #imagine #one shot #fic #fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction

[your-1up-girl]

Once Upon A Dream (Hera x Ventus)

Uhhh....okay so this wasn't supposed to post until the 31st but I must have gotten the queue wrong soooooo. Have an early gift.! I dedicate this fic to the very lovely and absolutely gorgeous @sammilimyy! Why do you ask? Because it’s her birthday (I'm early sorry)!!! I was so inspired by your royal/fantasy AU with Hera and Ven that I just had to write a fanfic for it. Now this is basically inspired by a certain movie from a certain company that shall not be named out of fear they will take this down, but if you know the song then you know the movie. I hope you like it Sam (and I hope that I got it on time for your b-day) have a happy and wonderful birthday!

Word Count: 4339

Pairing: Hera (OC)/Ventus (Kingdom Heart)

Warnings: Nothing but pure fluff! I hope you have a good Dentist Sammi, cuz this thing is gonna give you cavities!!!

It was happening again. This dream she found herself in was coming to her with much more frequency now. Always in this dream, Hera would find herself wandering through a forest where the birds graced her ears with beautiful melodies and the way the light filtered through the trees was practically angelic. In this dream, she would always wear a tea-length dress so it would not drag against the soft grass and dirty the pristine fabric. Said dress was adorn in mute yellow skirt and bodice with pale pink trimming and a bow in the back. It flowed with grace as Hera continued barefoot down the unmade path. A path she has taken several times before.

At this point she would reach a clearing where the trees created a canopy of sorts and the brush and wildflowers bloomed and grew with no outside interference. Standing in the middle of this clearing was a figure. It always looked like the spirit of a young boy. Someone who Hera would guess was about her age but taller than her. He had spiky hair and clothes that looked different from that of what she had seen in the nearby villages of the kingdom. As he turned to face her, she could see the phantom of a smile on his face but never his actual features. Soft music would fill the air as they approached each other and they began to dance. The soft whips of his fingers held her waist as they twilered and glided across the grass. They could never speak to each other but they could laugh. And Hera thought his laugh was better than any orchestra in the world.

Despite never speaking to this boy and only sharing these dances, Hera had fallen for this mysterious stranger. It was a dream, but in her heart, it all felt completely real. This boy was out there. At this point, after they had their dance, the music would end and Hera would wake up to the knocks of her Lady in Waiting telling her to start the day; but this time was different. For just a brief moment, when Hera looked up and faced the spirit, she could see him. It was still in a ghost like form but his features were there and she took it all into memory. The bangs across his forehead, the goofy yet loving smile he wore, and most importantly the shadowy blue eyes that looked back at her. He had never appeared tangible to her once during these late night rendezvous but after seeing him in this apparariton form, Hera knew. She was completely in love.

Hera woke with a start in her bed. The sudden movement had scared her Meow Wow Polly and her friend Naminé who was drawing the curtains to let light enter the room.

“Your Grace, you’re awake.” The Lady in Waiting spoke once the initial shock faded. “I knocked on the door to wake you, but you didn’t respond. Then, when I came in, you had the most peaceful smile on your face that I didn’t want to wake you just yet.”

Hera held her heart as Naminé spoke, remembering the dream once more. “Did you have another dream about him?” Naminé sat on the bed next to the princess as Polly let out a small whine and cuddled back into her owner.

“Yes, I did. We danced like we always do. But this time,” Hera paused as her smile became more giddy, “This time I saw him, Naminé.”

Naminé wore a similar smile at this development, “Really! That’s wonderful Princess. What did he look like?” Hera adjusted herself on the bed so Naminé could begin taking her hair out of the braids she wore to bed.

“Well, he still looked like a ghost of sorts but his facial features were there and not just a blank face. He had the most beautiful blue eyes, Naminé.” A love-struck sigh left Hera’s lips, “It was like looking into the night sky itself.”

“You are absolutely smitten with this boy. Do you think he’s real?”

“Why else would he appear to me in this dream? And remember, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen him.” Hera got out of bed and walked out onto the balcony. She leaned on the stone railing and gazed out into the horizon; her nightdress flowing in the early morning breeze. A sigh of doubt escaped her, “Naminé?”

Her Lady approached, “Yes Princess?”

“Answer me honestly, please. Do you think that boy is out there? Am I foolish to think that he could exist?”

Naminé’s eyes softened at her friend's sudden realization that this could all just be a dream. She held Hera close and spoke, “I think that in a world where magic exists and mythical creatures are a prominent part of our lives, having recurring dreams about a mysterious boy is calm by comparison.” This made Hera laugh, “I think he’s out there my Princess. If this truly is love that you feel, then you will both find your way to one another.”

After that, the day continued on as normal. Naminé helped Hera get dressed for the morning. Hera went to her lessons with Eraqus, the king. His lessons involved looking after the kingdom when she eventually came to rule. She had Keyblade training with Young Master Riku, Naminé would always remain close by during these lessons as the Lady in Waiting was very smitten with the Keyblade Master. And on this particular day, she ended her training with Master Aqua. The sworn protector of the Princess, Aqua specialized in magic and was well versed in wielding a Keyblade. She would teach Hera about combining magic into her basic attacks. However, Aqua took notice that Hera was not as focused as usual.

“Is there something bothering you Hera?”

“Huh? No Master Aqua, what makes you say that?” Their keyblades dissipated into the air signalling that they were done for the evening.

“It’s just that you haven’t been as focused as you should be during your lessons. And it’s not just with me, the King has noticed you’ve been more aloof with your teachings. Merlin has taken notice as well and so has Riku.” Hera hung her head in shame, should she tell Aqua about the dreams and the young boy? No, surely she would think the Princess crazy for looking into something like dreams. And falling in love with an apparition whom you don’t even know the name of would get her a lecture from the King. Hera couldn’t come up with a response quick enough but Aqua took the silence as something different. “You seem so worn out. Maybe you haven’t been getting enough sleep?”

At that, Hera’s head shot up, “Yes! Yes Master Aqua, that’s exactly it!” The sudden change in demeanor startled the blue haired Master from her train of thought. “I’m just so tired as of late Master Aqua. I think it would be best if I went off to bed now even. I had my dinner sometime before training so I’m not hungry.” Aqua blinked a few times. Hera seemed...excited to go to bed? It was an odd development in her attitude for sure but it seemed to be an improvement to what it was before so Aqua let it slide for now.

“Of course Your Grace, I’ll send for Naminé to meet you in your chambers to assist you for the night. Sweet dreams Princess Hera.” It was hard for the young girl to contain her excitement and Aqua could have sworn she heard a whispered, They will be as Hera passed.

Naminé carefully brushed Hera’s hair in the large bed of the royal chambers. Both girls wore their nightgowns and were discussing the events of the day. Polly sat comfortably in Hera’s lap, listening just as intently as if she were to join the conversation at any moment.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were paying extra attention to Master Riku’s lessons today.” Hera jested with her best friend; a smirk proudly displayed on her face.

“At least one of us was.”

“Hey! Naminé!” The Princess turned to push the blonde girl as they both laughed in the empty, fire lit room. “He likes you, you know.”

“Oh please, I’m just a maid, he wouldn't like me.”

Hera thought about this for a moment as Naminé worked an intricate updo into the Princess's hair for the night. She could tell her friend was discouraged by this separation of class so she tried to lighten the mood, “If he rejects you, I’ll have him beheaded.” Naminé nearly choked on her own saliva and snorted out a laugh. Having accomplished her mission in making her friend laugh, Hera joined as well.

“As kind as that is, please Hera, don’t kill anyone on my behalf.” Naminé was grateful for the joke and Hera enjoyed the lack of formalities with her best friend. The conversation continued in this matter but before Naminé got up for the night, Hera asked her a question.

“You want me to draw you a picture?”

“Yes, please, if it’s not too much to ask?” Naminé, not wanting to refuse her friend or the Princess, took a piece of parchment from the desk, some graphite, and a flat board to give her some stability and joined Hera back on the bed.

“Alright Hera, what is your request?”

“I want you to draw the boy from my dreams.” Big, pleading blue eyes met confused blue ones as Naminé took in what Hera asked.

“I-Your Grace-Hera, you know that I don’t know what he looks like, yes?”

“Oh, I know. That’s why, you’re going to sit next to me and I’m going to watch you draw as I describe him to you.” Hera grabbed the pillow next to her and made room for her friend and tapped the spot. A small smile adorned the Lady’s face as she made herself comfortable and ready for the long night ahead of her.

~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, in the outskirts of the Kingdom, some yards away from the borders, a young farm boy sat upon the roof of his home looking at the horizon as the sky changed from warm tones to cool blues and the stars greeted him for the night. He came to look out into the sky when he needed to clear his head. And after having a busy day of training, fram work, and running errands, Ventus was in need of a small break. Not to mention that this moment alone gave him some time to think about the spirit girl he saw in his dreams. At first, Ventus just blew it off. Strange dreams happen all the time, take ‘em with a grain of salt. But then, she kept coming back, the same girl, in the same forest, with the same dress, and the same beautiful smile. God that smile. It was barely noticeable with the form that she took in his dreams but Ven was in love with it nonetheless.

He chuckled to himself. There I go again, Terra would have a fit if he could hear me. Falling in love with a forest spirit just because she danced with you in a recurring dream was ridiculous. Right? Ventus sighed and ran a hand through his hair, groaning when he had to pick more sticks out from when he fell herding the animals earlier. That girl made sleeping more exciting yet also somewhat frightening. Why did he see her all the time? Was she some sort of nymph? Was she even real? Would she love him back? And, why did he feel such disappointment if the answer was no? He didn’t even know this girl, and yet? Ventus put his hand over where his heart would be and gripped that part of his shirt. This girl had his heart and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“Ven? Ventus? Where are you?” Terra stepped out of the house to call for the young boy. It made Ven laugh just a bit. No matter how many times Ventus escaped to this spot, Terra never thought to check there. “Come on Ven, you’ll never get to be a royal guard if you don’t get a good night’s sleep!”

“And you will never be a detective if you don’t think to check in the obvious spots for the suspect.” Terra turned to see that Ventus was in fact, on the roof. They both shared a laugh and Ven made his way down. “If you keep yelling then you’ll wake the Tama Sheep and the Electricorn.” They both made it back inside the house and Ventus sat with a warm tea Terra had made. The young blond sat and stared at the tea with a look that was both focused and unfocused all at once.

“Hey Terra, do you believe in love at first sight?”

The brunette sat across from the boy and pondered the question, “I think it’s possible. I think that if someone really is the one then you’ll just know.”

“Hmm.”

“You thinking about your dreams again?”

“Yeah. It’s always with the same girl. She comes to that forest, doesn’t say a single thing to me, just laughs, and we dance. They’re getting more frequent and-” Ventus paused a small smile creeping onto his face.

“And?” With raised eyebrows, Terra waited for a response.

“And...I saw her face.” Ven couldn’t hide the smile or blush at this point and Terra’s eyes widened, not expecting that to be his response. “It was all ghosty and weird like the rest of her but I could see her eyes and the way they had so much life to them. I saw her and I just fell for her, Terra. Even more than I already am in love with her.”

“Does she look like anyone you know? Maybe it’s someone from the marketplace?”

“No, her clothes look different from that of the marketplace or even from the nearby towns. I could be wrong but they kinda look like a type of nobility.”

“Wow, look at you; dreaming about a Duchess.” It never crossed either of their minds as they drank the tea that the mysterious girl could have been a princess. Terra listened more to Ven’s recounting of dreams as it got a bit later. An hour had passed and the tea was all gone and both boys sat at the table trying to figure out what to do about the spirit girl.

“I think you should go talk to a woman who goes by Fairy Godmother. No one knows her real name but she is really good at figuring out people’s dreams. She lives on the far side of Traverse Town near the kingdom borders.” Ven listened closely. “If anyone can help you out, it’s her.” It was discussed that Ventus would take one of the Yoggy Rams and travel there tomorrow morning.

By early morning light, Ventus did just that. It was a long ride but not too tedious. Around mid-afternoon Ventus arrived at Traverse Town and began asking for this Fairy Godmother. Some people lead him to the back of the town where, in the middle of a water well, there was a house that was similar to that of a doll’s but less childish. Ventus carefully walked over the rocks with his Yoggy Ram to the front door and gave it a pensive knock. He waited no more than a minute when a kind looking older woman answered the door. She smiled at him like she was his grandson and enveloped him into a hug.

“Oh hello young man, it’s good to see you. Please, please, come in. Let your Ram drink from the water around my house. I don’t mind. I just prepared some warm milk if you would like some.” Fairy Godmother brought him into the quaint living room and he lifted the milk to his lips taking a sip. It tasted faintly of vanilla and hazelnut; it made Ventus smile. “So,” Fairy Godmother sat across from him in her own plush chair, “How can I help you dear.”

“My friend told me that you could help me with my dreams?”

She lightly laughed and placed her tea cup down, “Yes, he is correct; dreams tend to be my specialty. Tell me everything my dear.” Ventus did just that. From the smiles, to the laughs, and all the joy he felt in between. When he finished, he sat anxiously for the answer. “Hmm, this sounds like a very special girl.”

“She is Fairy Godmother.”

“But you have never seen her before?”

He hung his head, “No I haven’t Fairy Godmother.”

“And yet you’re in love with her.” There was no malice in this question and she asked knowing exactly what his answer would be.

Ventus sighed, the milk long finished as he searched for his answer, “I-Fairy Godmother, I know it sounds crazy to love someone you have never met but, my heart tells me that she is someone who I want to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t have much to give. I am a stable boy who is training for a guard position and doesn't have much control of his Keyblade yet and I can be kinda naive but I love her. More than anything.”

The Fairy Godmother smiled at his answer; it had exceeded her expectations. “That’s even better than what I had expected you to say.” She stood up and went to a bookshelf and handed him a map. A map of the kingdom more specifically. “You see this area?” She pointed to an unnamed forest that was about halfway to the castle and his ranch. “There is no name on the map but people call it The Somnium Forest. It’s a magical forest where people go when they need help in their lives. They say that it feels like time stops when you enter and no one leaves the forest unsatisfied. The inside of the forest, they say, never looks the same for one person.” She held Ventus’ hands in hers, “Tomorrow young man, I want you to go to the Somnium and walk around for a bit. I’m sure it will help you with your dreams.”

Ventus wasn’t sure how a forest would help, but he was willing to try. He gave the Fairy Godmother one last hug and left with his Yoggy Ram.

Returning to the castle once more. Hera walked around the grounds with more disdain than usual. Why? She didn’t dream about the boy. His picture was carefully placed in her tea-length dress pocket (courtesy of a very late drawing session with Naminé) but having the paper wasn’t the same as seeing him in her dreams. It had only been a day and yet it was enough to put her in an upsetting mood. It was to the point that she didn’t want to hang around the castle anymore. That was how she found her way to the library asking Merlin for his map of the kingdom.

“Any place you want to go, in particular Young Hera?” He asked with his usual chipper tone.

“No, just want to explore, get out for a bit.” Hera held her head in her left hand as her right hand grazed over the different locations of the map, pointer finger out. She could go to the castle town? No, that was far too close to home. She could go to the outskirts and explore the hills that acted as the land border on the west side? No, if she was gone for too long Aqua would have a fit. Her eyes noticed a forest and that peaked her interest. “Merlin, what’s this place?”

He adjusted his glasses, “Ah! You mean The Somnium Forest? It’s a place where dreams come true as they say.” He takes a sip of his tea, “People go in there and not one person leaves upset. Forest is magical.”

“A magical forest?” Hera could use some more magic in her life. And even if it wasn’t, having the comfort of a forest setting could give her some semblance of her dream. “Thank you for your help Merlin, could I trouble you to watch Polly while I’m gone?”

“Oh it would be no trouble at all Princess! I love the little thing after all. Come along Polly, let’s see what potions I can make to help Aerith in the garden.” The Meow Wow and the Wizard walked in tandem as Hera packed the map and made her way to the stables. As much as she wanted to leave with no one’s notice, the brunette unfortunately ran into Aqua.

“Oh Princess Hera, why are you heading to the stables?”

“I just wanted to take my Pegaslick and explore for a bit. I’m not sure when I will be back so can you tell Naminé that she has the rest of the day off? Maybe tell her to have some sweets with Master Riku.”

“Princess, by yourself? Are you sure you don’t want me to join you? I could quickly-”

“No, Master Aqua, I’m fine.” Hera didn’t feel good about brushing her Master and protector off but she needed to go to this forest. It was calling her the same way her dreams did.

She got to the stables and had the royal stable boy Prompto helped ready her Pegaslick. “The reins are all good, Your Grace, enjoy your ride.”

Hera took off after a quick thank you and without a second thought. It was difficult to ride while holding the map but after an hour, Somnium Forest greeted her. She got off the Pegaslick and decided to walk the remainder, her companion close to her side.

Upon entering, the Princess did feel different. There was a strong happiness that washed over her. The fresh smell filled her nose and the grass seemed so soft that she took off her riding boots, hanging them on the saddle and continued barefoot. Eventually, Hera found herself walking deeper into the trees but she couldn’t find it in herself to worry about getting lost. A part of her knew that she wasn’t. In fact, the way the trees and flowers created a path. And the light through the trees. Her dress flowing in the soft breeze and the birds. It all made her stop to pinch herself.

“This has to be a dream.” A whisper that she barely heard left her lips but the muzzle of her Pegaslick acted as a reasurace that this was all real. With a new found fervor, Hera kept going.

On the other hand, Ventus was having the same feeling of déjà vu; only he bounded into the forest with reckless abandon. All these trees, flowers, and rocks he rode past were familiar to him. And as he approached a clearing, he knew this was the moment of truth.

They stared at each other on either side of the clearing. Both shook with excitement but neither moved out of fear of breaking this perfect scene. Ventus had to get off his Yoggy Ram but his eyes never once left hers. Carefully, they approached and once they met in the middle?

“You-are you-?” Hera couldn’t speak. So overwhelmed with joy that he stood before her as a flesh and blood person and not just some apparition. Rather she took out her drawing from the dress pocket and held it up. “It is you.”

Ventus held her face and she leaned into his touch. He wiped a tear that fell from her eye and nodded his head. “The boy from the dreams? Yes, that’s me.” Hera dropped the picture and hugged him. Her arms around his middle and his holding her head into his chest.

“I thought you weren’t real. I thought the universe was playing a horrible trick on me.”

“I promise I’m real. My name is Ventus, and I have wanted this moment ever since that first dream we had.” The dropped drawing was retrieved and put back into her pocket.

“Ventus,” What a beautiful name, “I am Hera. Your voice is so wonderful! I’m so glad to finally hear it!”

“The Princess? I’m so stupid for not recognizing you sooner. I must say Hera,” Ven brushed her hair behind her ears, “The dreams don’t do you justice. I didn’t think there could be a blue more clear than the sky, yet your eyes puts it to shame.” Hera blushed and smiled, wiping some tears from her cheeks. “There is just one thing missing to make our dream a reality.” Hera tilted her head. What more could they want? “There may not be music but, may I have this dance?”

He was right, no music played in this forest, but Hera happily accepted his hand as they moved across the grass. The laughter sounded even better than any of the nights they shared.

Off behind the trees, Aqua watched with the purest expression. Against her better judgement, she followed the young Princess to see if she was alright. Once she saw Hera with this young boy she knew everything was fine.

“So, you followed her I’m assuming?” Aqua looked and saw Terra approach as he went to the spot next to her.

“Yes, and I take it that he is yours?”

“Yeah, less ‘mine’. I’m more of his friend slash guardian.” They watched the kids dance and laugh and converse in the clearing. Terra broke their silence again, “Ventus, he’s training to be a royal guard.”

“Is he now?” Aqua smiled as she knew where this conversation was headed.

“Yes, I’m just a stable boy like him but I did undergo some training as well. I teach him everything and he is a very fast learner. I don’t want to overstep my boundaries but, perhaps the Princess could use another personal guard?”

Aqua laughed and didn't take her eyes off of the lovely couple as, "Yes, I'm sure Her Majesty would love that."

#I hope I did your baby justice Sammi #I feel like the ending was kinda a let down but I hope you like it Sam! #I took what you said about Ven being inspired by Link and kinda added to that. #The only Link I know is from Twilight Princess so that is my inspiration. :) #but this was so much fun to write #as you can tell #I love fantasy/royal aus #and I am Hera's aunt so I thought this was fitting #Plus i wanted to do something nice for your birthday since you drew something for me #I'm just glad I wrote it on time #Hera x Ventus #kingdom hearts #ocs #original character #not my oc #my writing #OUaD #enjoy

[dirt-cup-draco]

Draco x Reader - Perfection

Omg I just had this cute idea, could you write a young Draco x reader, in which he doesn't bully/make fun of her and really respects her, and he doesn't know why, but then kinda realises he likes her? I think a fluff n cute ending would be nice😍😍 

A/N: I am slowly trying to get back to posting! I still need more time but I am so overjoyed with all the love and support I’ve received. Thank you all. xoxo

There was nothing about you Draco didn’t like. He watched as you took a seat at your house table, back straight and eyes lit up with a smile. You radiated a warmth and positive energy that he might have found annoying if it wasn’t perfectly you. 

“What’s so interesting about Y/L/N that you have to stare at her all meal long?” Pansy whined as Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Leave him be Parkinson, he has a crush,” Blaise prodded fun at him and Draco stuck his elbow into his friend’s side.

“I don’t, she’s just nice is all,” Draco argued.

“Since when has that mattered? She’s just some nobody,” Draco was tuning Pansy out before she continued and made him angry for the rest of the day. 

Once Draco was stuck in transfiguration, he made sure to steal the seat right behind you. He could smell your perfume, something light and floral that was quickly becoming his favorite. You were taking notes when Draco reached forward, tapping you on the shoulder. 

You turned and he tossed a note onto your desk with a smile that you returned. Your smile had always been so pretty, maybe Blaise was right. But so what if he had a crush on you? Draco was positive half the school would be in love with you if they weren’t blind.

Draco and you had been friends for a while, passing notes in transfiguration just to pass the time because you knew if you talked out of line McGonagall would scold you openly in front of the class. It was always simple conversation yet it made your heart race. 

How are you today? Draco’s simple handwriting asked, beside a silly doodle of an owl that flapped it’s wings at you in a hello. 

You always loved his doodles. 

Draco wasn’t the kindest of boys, he had a reputation and you knew it was very possible one day he would decide to be not so kind to you. You didn’t tolerate bullies but Draco always had wide, honest doe eyes for you. It drew you in and you were powerless against how he made you feel. To you, he was the most perfect boy in the world. 

Good, besides dreading Potions. Help me study later? You asked back, waiting for your professor to turn around so you could turn and place the note on Draco’s desk, you winked at him as you spun back around, missing the blush that burned it’s way across his cheeks and to the tips of his ears. 

Draco had a snarky, playful comment in the back of his head but he worried you might not take it as that so he withheld. He didn’t want to mess up when it came to you, being the only person who could ever make him think before he spoke. He agreed to help you in potions and the rest of the class flew by with stories of how you had accidentally sent your homework to your family instead of the letter you had prepared for them and how he had accidentally walked into the girl’s bathroom the other day. 

It was nice to share the silly things about your day, it kept humor between you two and something to talk about later when you were together. It was always good for the both of you and so when you came to the library after dinner with tears in your eyes, he was at a loss for what to do. 

You rubbed at your eyes and sniffled, trying to pull yourself together. “Sorry, I was g-going to clean up but I didn’t want you thinking I was late,” You mumbled as fresh tears started to well up. Draco didn’t understand what he was doing until he was wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you comfortingly. 

“What happened? Who do I have to kill?” He tried playing it off as a joke but seeing you in such a state boiled his blood and made his heart ache for you. 

You let out a watery chuckle. “It’s nothing, Draco.” You reassured but he wasn’t convinced. He pulled away just enough to tilt your chin up at him as he narrowed his eyes, searching yours for the truth. You seemed ashamed almost.

“It’s something if it made you cry,” He said softly, wiping your tears away and continuing to stroke the soft skin of your cheek in a soothing rhythm. 

“Just some silly girl was rude, I just need a thicker skin,” 

“What girl?” Draco asked and you avoided his gaze. 

“No one you know,” You failed to meet his eye, your foot scraping against the floor beneath you as your nervous energy showed itself. 

“Liar,” He said gently. “Y/N, I won’t kill anyone, just let me know what happened. I want to help...” 

“But you don’t need to help,” You softly argued back. “I can take care of myself-” 

“What if I want to take care of you?” He interrupted. 

You smiled at that, finally making the eye contact he had been looking for. “And why would Draco Malfoy want to take care of little ol’ me?” You teased as Draco blushed, rolling his eyes so hard they might pop out of his head if he wasn’t careful. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t know how amazing you are,” He scoffed. 

It was your turn to let out a hoot of laughter. “You are a terrible flirt, do you know that?”

Draco pulled away from you, embarrassed. “I am not! I was honest, you are, in the best words I can put it in, perfect.” 

You watched Draco in a curious way but let your smile grow wider as you reached for his hand. “Is that why Pansy was giving me hell? Because you like me?” 

Draco frowned. “Pansy was bothering you?” 

“Answer the question,” You prodded. 

“You first,” 

“Draco,” You begged. 

“I do like you,” He admitted, tugging on your hand so he could settle his hands on your hips. “What are you going to do about it?” 

You giggled, lacing your fingers together behind his neck. Standing on your toes you pressed a kiss to his nose. “Nothing yet,” You teased. “We have potions to do,” 

Draco groaned, hands squeezing your hips as he found the way you fit against him was the most blissful thing he’d ever experienced. Merlin, how was he to survive you?

“I like you too, you know,” You declared as you settled at the table, pulling out your scrolls and books as Draco snapped himself out of his reverie. 

Draco was grinning as he sat beside you, hand grasping yours as you went over your homework. The small action had you smiling in a way he had never seen before and it was so different from the tears you arrived with that he couldn’t help but feel some pride. He had made you happy. 

Draco very possibly hex Pansy but for now he was content to sit beside you and practice what ingredients did and didn’t belong in a wideye potion. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked with laughter in your voice as you realized he hadn’t answered your question yet.

This time Draco wasn’t worried about his answer.  “Because you’re perfect,” 

You blushed, and laughed off the intensity of his voice. Merlin, how were you supposed to survive him? 

#Draco Malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #fluff #ask #anon #anon ask #RESPECT #WE ARE HERE FOR IT #WOO #my titles #are unrivaled #jk #a dead fish could do better

[losingmymindtonight]

Ooooh - you ask me for fluff??? Have you considered TONY AND PETER WATCHING MERLIN??????? All the way from the adorkable beginning to the angsty angsty end??? Bcs I'm betting Tony would have some jokes about Merlin keeping his secret about as well as Peter does. 😂😂

I was born to write this

Today is Merlin’s 10 year anniversary! I miss my dumb boys…

Merlin spoilers ahead!

Also this… might not make any sense at all if you haven’t watched Merlin? I couldn’t really help it.

“What’re we watching, again?”

Peter plopped down beside Tony and tucked himself into the man’s side, a maneuver perfected through countless days of practice. “It’s an old BBC show called Merlin.”

“And why are we watching it?”

“Because MJ told me that if I didn’t, she’d spoil the ending.” Peter blinked up at him innocently. Tony sort of hated that it wasn’t an act. The kid really was that pure. “And because you said we could binge watch whatever I wanted.”

He had said that, to be fair.

It was Peter’s spring break, and May was out of town. At May’s request, he’d happily volunteered to have the kid over for the week. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust Peter to be alone for that long, exactly…

Okay, actually, yeah. Neither he nor May trusted the kid to be alone for that long.

Could anyone blame them? He was a magnet for trouble. Tony was surprised Peter could walk five steps on the street without someone trying to detach his head from his body.

And so, in the name of what May called his “co-parental service hours,” Tony’s weekend would be spent watching a cancelled BBC show and living off of microwave popcorn and delivered pizzas.

He guessed that there were definitely worse things to be doing.

“So,” Peter maneuvered through the Netflix interface like it was a second skin. He tried not to be jealous, “give me a rundown. On what kind of journey are we about to embark?”

“It’s a show about Merlin-”

“Holy shit, I would’ve never guessed…”

“Hey!” Peter laughed, hovering the mouse over the first episode. “It’s like a ‘what if?’ story. What if Merlin and Arthur were the same age, and Merlin was Arthur’s servant instead of this wise old wizard? It’s supposed to be really good.”

I can’t wait. “Alright, kid. Let’s have at it.”

Peter hit play and tossed the remote onto the coffee table, leaning his head against the top of Tony’s chest as the first scene faded into view.

“No young man, no matter how great, can know his destiny. He cannot glimpse his part in the great story that is about to unfold. Like everyone, he must live and learn. And so it will be for the young warlock arriving at the gates of Camelot. A boy that will, in time, father the legend. His name: Merlin.” 

And, damn it, Tony could already feel himself drawing the parallels between the gangly kid on the screen and the gangly kid curled up next to him. 

Peter had no idea, did he? He couldn’t see the path that Tony saw winding further every day.

He had no idea that he was going to change the world.

He watched the Evil King character execute some random sorcerer with a weird taste in his mouth.

It felt too real, too present. Too close to what Tony imaged Ross would do to Peter if he ever got his hands on him…

He shook the thoughts away. No. This was supposed to be fun. They were binge watching a lighthearted show over the kid’s spring break. The occasion did not lend itself to thoughts like that.

He decided that he liked Gaius from the old physician’s very first scene. He voiced that thought to Peter, quietly, during a lull in the dialogue.

“Why?”

Tony shrugged. “He’s gonna suffer.”

Peter dropped his head back, craning his neck painfully, to stare up at his mentor with wide eyes. “He is?”

He chuckled, letting the sound release some of the tension from Peter’s gaze. “Of course he is. His job is to keep the reckless kid alive. It’s not easy, let me tell you.”

Peter hit Tony with a pillow, and the episode rolled on.

“Tell me, Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?”

A flare of protectiveness for his Peter-stand in flared in Tony’s chest. 

He shifted Peter a little closer, as if protecting his kid would protect the one on the screen as well. 

He decided all at once that he didn’t like Arthur. He didn’t like him even a little bit.

“He’s an asshole.”

Peter seemed unperturbed. He played with the cuff of Tony’s shirt lazily, eyes tracking the scene. “People can change, Mister Stark. You did, didn’t you?” The kid smiled his special, unburdened smile. “Give him a chance.”

It occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, he hated Arthur because the prince reminded him of an outdated version of himself.

Young, brazen, self-centered, cruel. Blind to the ways his actions could hurt and maim and kill. Following doggedly in the over-sized footsteps his father left. Driven by false arrogance, one-size-fits-all ideals, and overwhelming bitterness on his tongue.

He sighed. “Sure, kid. I’ll give Prince Asshole a chance.”

As it turned out, his forced sympathy for Arthur his deadbeat dad was a lot harder to hold onto than he thought it might be.

This Merlin character really knew how to look like a kicked puppy.

“I’m not a monster, am I?”

“Don’t ever think that.”

Tony tightened his grip around Peter’s back at the same moment the teenager shifted to cling tighter.

He wanted to tell the kid that Gaius was right, and that Prince Asshole was wrong. He wanted to tell him that Merlin wasn’t a monster. That nobody could help who they were, and that it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of.

He wanted to tell Peter that he wasn’t a monster, a freak, a mistake. He wanted to make sure he knew that Tony would tear down anyone who said otherwise.

Instead, he just smoothed a hand through Peter’s bangs and hoped he could feel it through the solidity of their half-embrace.

“If you can’t tell me, no one can.”

The first season fell away along with the daylight.

He watched Merlin, who he had to repetitively remind himself was not Peter, stumble through a million different mistakes. He watched him drink some poison (stupid), harbor some fugitive child right under the Evil King’s nose (stupid), and offer up his life in exchange for Prince Asshole’s (stupidstupidstupid).

It felt like every turn the character took made him want to smash his head into the nearest wall. Repetitively.

(On the other hand, Prince Asshole was slowly, and painfully, growing on him. Not that he was ready to admit that to Peter, of course.)

The final episode of the season faded into credits, and Tony wordlessly flicked off the TV.

“Hey.” The kid’s protest might have held more weight if his eyes weren’t closed and the words weren’t soft with sleepiness. “One more.”

Tony made sure to keep his voice low and soothing, carding his fingers through the kid’s mess of curls. “You won’t even concentrate on it.”

“Will too.”

“Oh?” He turned the screen back on, slyly lowering the volume and hitting play on the next episode. “Okay then, buddy. Whatever you say.”

Peter’s breaths had evened out before the opening sequence could finish.

That night, Tony decided that sleeping on the couch was way underrated.

There wasn’t even a question of what they’d be doing the next morning. He sent Peter wordlessly to shower, ordered a couple of pizzas, and hit play the moment that the kid was re-situated on the couch, wet curls soaking into the front of his t-shirt.

At some point in the middle of the season, during an episode about a witchfinder, he let out an involuntary groan.

It was almost like this kid didn’t want to keep his magic a secret. At the very least, it seemed like he jumped at nearly every opportunity to reveal himself.

Peter flickered his eyes away from the screen and gave Tony a questioning look. “What?”

He rolled his eyes. “Merlin’s about as good at keeping his secret as you are at keeping yours.”

“That’s not true!” Peter’s glare just made him look younger. Tony nearly laughed at the way his face scrunched up. “Barely anybody knows I’m Spider-Man!”

“I figured it out, kid.”

“You’re you-”

“Ned.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know he was-”

“MJ.”

“She’s terrifyingly observant-”

“May.”

“She walked in on me!”

“Sure thing, kiddo.” Tony ruffled his hair playfully. “Why don’t you just shout it from the rooftops, huh? Might be a little more efficient, that way.”

Peter blinked, then huffed, physically turning away from Tony and fixing his eyes back on the screen. It was a clear dismissal, despite the fact that didn’t move away from the warmth of his mentor’s side.

The second season’s finale went to credits, and Peter stalled Tony’s hand before he could switch off the TV.

“C’mon, Mister Stark! We could totally watch the next season! It’ll only take, like, a few more hours.”

“Your idea of ‘a few more hours’ is actually about 8 hours, kiddo.”

“And?”

“You need sleep.”

“We’ve stayed up later in the lab.”

“On accident.”

“So?”

He tried his best to mimic May’s I am an adult and you will listen to me voice. “No, Peter.”

He kid blinked up at him imploringly. “Please.”

(The third season was good.)

They watched the two part series finale on Tuesday morning. 

And, frankly, Tony wasn’t sure what he’d expected. But it sure as hell wasn’t… that.

“Just, just, just… just hold me. Please.”

Peter curled himself around Tony with a little whine. He rubbed the kid’s back comfortingly, gaze still transfixed on the screen. “No. He’s not supposed to die, Mister Stark. He’s supposed to live. He’s-He’s the Once and Future King. What about Albion? What about Merlin?”

He wondered if he could sue the BBC for making his kid cry.

“There’s something I want to say…”

“You’re not going to say goodbye.”

“No. Merlin. Everything you’ve done. I know now. For me, for Camelot. For the kingdom you helped me build…”

“You’d have done it without me.”

“Maybe. I want to say… something I’ve never said to you before. Thank you.”

He watched the character die with a weird feeling in his chest.

He’d never been one for sentiment in general, and certainly not for fictional characters. But… something about Merlin and Arthur had made him think of Peter and himself.

Peter’s voice was small. “Merlin would’ve trade places with him.”

Tony’s answer came so quickly that it surprised him. “Arthur would never want him to.”

You ever try trading places with me, kid, and I’ll kill you my damn self.

“But what’s the point?” There were undercurrents to Peter’s tone that told Tony they weren’t just talking about the show anymore. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one drawing parallels. “If I were Merlin, I’d rather die than live without Arthur.”

He tried not to hear the implicit I’d rather die than live without you in the kid’s words.

“Someone always dies first, kiddo. That’s just life.”

Peter buried his face into Tony’s shirt, sniffling a little. “Yeah, well, I don’t like it.”

He set a gentle hand on the back of his head, shielding him from the screen, the daylight, the world.

“I don’t like this ending, either.”

Tony took a deep breath, focusing on the way his ribs pressed into Peter’s at the apex. “If it makes you feel any better, kiddo, neither do I.”

He’d pondered his death a lot. Once, he’d thought towards it with a perverted sense of lust. 

But Pepper, Rhodey, Peter had changed that. Now, he just felt a peaceful acceptance. He wouldn’t go rushing to his grave but, when the time came, he couldn’t see himself reeling against it, either.

But for the first time, he thought about Peter.

If everything went the way it naturally should, he would die long before the kid.

He’d get to die, and Peter would have to keep living.

His parents’ deaths still left a hollow ache in his chest. He missed his mother with every single breath.

Is that what he’d be doing to Peter, when he died? Leaving him damaged irreparably? Dooming him to a life of sewing up his tattered grief?

He swallowed, hard, and shook his head.

Peter would be okay, because he’d prepare Peter. He’d give him everything he needed to do more than just survive once he and May were both gone.

He was going to make sure Peter thrived.

And he’d do everything he could not to leave the kid like Arthur left Merlin, or like his mother left him. Not violently, not suddenly, not in the heart of some blood-stained tragedy.

He’d linger, if he could. He’d grow old (something he used to shudder at the thought of). He’d give the kid’s kids too much sugar and poke him with his cane and complain about the technology Peter would incorporate into his newest invention to shroud the pride.

As he watched the final credits role over the dark screen, Tony Stark decided that he hated tragedies.

He also decided that he wouldn’t let his own life become one.

#irondad fluff fest #merlin owns my soul #happy anniversary to my two special bois #and my og fandom #merlin spoilers #irondad #spiderson #tony & peter #tony stark #peter parker #losingmymindtonight writes

[carryonmylovelies]

Heyyyyyyy my dude anyways can you write a fic that is literally just fluff and Simon spooning Baz? Cuz that's literally all I want in my life tbh (also you're lovely and amazing)

Hiiiiii my lovely anon!! Thank you so so much for being my first fic request, and I really, really hope you like this because I wrote it for you :D Let me know what you think of it! (I hope you don’t mind that I spiced it up a bit lol) I would also like to dedicate this to @bazypitchandsimonsnow because Theo is my best friend and she’s always there for me and this could not have been made without her. I love youuuu here on ao3)

Eyes On Me, Please

Baz

It’s been a long day. Two of my uni professors were late, arriving in a tired mess of coffee, ungraded papers, and the general mood of not wanting to be there, and one of them just didn’t fucking show up. I had to write a five page essay twice (I don’t want to talk about it), the students in my mathematics class wouldn’t shut up about communism, and the cafeteria didn’t have my salt and vinegar crisps.

I am very much ready to be home, in the flat I share with my best friend and my lovely, crazy hot boyfriend, and in said hot boyfriend’s arms, furiously making out with him. (I swear to Merlin, I should not be allowed to be in a relationship. Thoughts of the next time I can get Simon under me and in between the sheets of the queen-sized bed we share threaten to overwhelm every bloody rational thought I have throughout my day. I’m not going to lie; it’s a bit hard to focus on my professor explaining William of Tyre and the diplomacy of the Byzantine empire when all I can hear is the exact sound Simon makes when I bite the inside of his upper thigh.)

I am too goddamn thirsty.

I finally arrive at my door, exhausted, hungry, and a little turned on. I weakly hit my fist against the door. No answer. I knock again, more forceful this time, but I still don’t get a response.

“Fuckers!” I yell, digging for my keys in my bag and shifting my books to the other arm. 

I jam my key in the lock, wiggle it, and push the door open, letting it slam against the wall with a dull thud. That will totally leave a mark, but it feels good to do a little damage.

I kick off my shoes and leave my bag by the door, the flat sounding unnaturally quiet. I walk into our light, airy kitchen and notice that Bunce has buried herself in a book that’s larger than her head again, and it looks so old I think she has a bit of dust on her nose. I flick the side of her pastel-purple head as I walk by, and she doesn’t even look up as she flips me off. I smirk, and make my way to the our living room, which is stuffed with chairs and pillows and a large couch, all surrounding the television.

I find my boyfriend lounging, one elbow propped up on the top of the couch, his long legs and tail dangling off of the end, and his wings falling lazily around his shoulders. His white earbuds peek out from behind his curls, and he’s looking at his phone like he’s about to throw it at the wall. His fingers furiously tap at the screen.

I stand in front of him and put my hands on my hips because this situation is very deserving of my signature hands-on-hips look.

He continues to play his game, and I can make out the sounds of violence and fighting spilling from his earbuds. How mature.

“Snow.”

He doesn’t hear me.

“Snow.”

Still nothing.

“Snow, I’m leaving you. I’m leaving you for that cute barista at Starbucks.”

He is so engrossed in his game he probably doesn’t know what day it is let alone who’s right bloody in front of him, trying to engage him in conversation.

“Snow, you hear that? I’m leaving you for a fucking barista. No one can make a pumpkin mocha breve like Dave from Starbucks can.”

“We’re gonna have six children and name them all after you.”

“I would bake him sour cherry scones every morning.”

“Snow, I’m going to go walk down to the Starbucks right now and have sex with Dave the barista all over our favorite table in the corner.”

Bunce yells at me from the kitchen, “Basil, as much as I want this one-sided conversation to continue because it is fucking hilarious to listen to, he cannot hear you, so you better think of something else.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up,” I respond, and she peeks around the corner and gives me a very reassuring thumbs up.

He has not acknowledged my existence in the 3 minutes that I have been home, and 2 of those minutes I spent physically speaking to him, so this calls for something a little bit stronger. I leave my stupidly attractive boyfriend (emphasis on the stupid) with his unruly curls and blue eyes glued to his phone, alone on the couch as I walk determinedly into our room.

I slip off my shirt and trousers and pull on the pair of jeans that I know are Simon’s favorite (plus they make my arse look illegal) and one of his worn jumpers. It’s a bit big for me; he has broader shoulders and more of a stomach, but the length of it is about the same. He knows that I know how much he loves it when I wear his clothes, so getting him to notice me should be easy now. And yes, I am going to all this trouble to get my very own boyfriend to notice me, and it’s because I am extremely petty and over-dramatic and because I really fucking love it when he looks at me like he’s starving and I’m the last sour cherry scone in the world. Sue me.

I saunter out, ready for the final part of my plan, and I suddenly can’t help but enjoy the sight for just a moment. The sun is slowly fading from the living room, but that doesn’t stop it from catching on the ends of Simon’s bronze curls, dousing them in a burnt orange, and the moles and freckles on his face and neck are just begging for lips to press against them. His blue eyes glow with the light from his phone and I just can’t take it anymore.

I cross the room in two strides and throw myself into his lap, promptly ending whatever game he was playing.

I expect Simon to be mad, or at least annoyed, but to my delight Simon just laughs, throwing his phone and earbuds onto the carpet and kissing my cheek. He slides back into the corner of the couch and takes me with him, pulling me to sit in between his legs. His arms snake around my waist, his fingers gripping my sides possessively and his chest is a solid warmth against my back. I sigh, and let my head fall onto his shoulder. He kisses the top of my nose.

“Hello,” he says, and I drown in his smile.

“Hi,” I say back, and then I pinch his arm. Hard.

“Owww! That hurt,” Simon whines, glaring at me.

I pout, “Well, you shouldn’t have ignored me when I got home! I’ve had a very long day.”

“I was busy,” he says sulkily, pushing his nose into my hair.

“Oh yes, you were very busy … playing on your phone.”

“… I was about to reach my high score.”

“And I was tired and stressed from school! All I wanted was some bloody love and affection from my adoring boyfriend but I guess that’s too much to ask from a prat like you.”

He growls and tightens his hold on me. I inhale sharply at the sound, and shift in his lap, cursing Simon for having growls like that.

He pushes his face into my hair and his hot breath makes the back of my neck tingle. Then he raises his head sharply, and squeezes my waist.

“Hey, is this my shirt?”

“Yes.”

He groans and falls back into my hair, “I love it when you wear my stuff.”

“I know,” I say, smugly.

He bites my neck (who’s the real vampire in this relationship?) and then presses a kiss to the same spot.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention to you when you got home. And I’m sorry you had a hard day,” he mumbles. “Wanna talk about it?”

I open my mouth to tell him about the stressors of my day but surprisingly I’m not really bothered by them anymore. Hatching a plan to get your boyfriend to notice you is a great way to de-stress, with the added bonus of your plan working and now you just get to relax while he spoons you.

His arms are tight and hot across my middle, and his chest is practically forcing heat into me. Everywhere he’s touching me I’m burning up. And I love it. He smells like scones and my expensive shampoo even though I tell him not to use it and to use his own fucking shampoo. His legs are flush against the outside of mine, and I unconsciously snuggle closer to him, turning my head so I can press my lips to one of the moles on his shoulder.

“No, I’m okay, now.”  

Penny

I watch them from the doorway of the kitchen, and I’m glad to see that they worked things out. They’re talking now, in low voices, sharing smiles and small laughs. Simon has draped himself all over Baz, and Baz looks like there is nowhere else in this world he would rather be. Although, they aren’t really in this world anymore; they’re both in a world all on their own.  

They make each other so happy. Anyone can see it. It’s in the way Simon’s tail winds itself around Baz’s legs whenever he’s close by. It’s in the way Baz’s eyes light up whenever Simon walks into a room. It’s in the way they slowly built each other back up after the worst time of our lives, and it’s in the way they continue to hold each other when one of them feels like falling and not getting back up. I truly, only wish the best for them.

With their soft voices floating in from the living room and the hum of the refrigerator in the back of my mind, it’s easy to slip back into my book.

The next time I look up I’m not sure how long I’ve been reading for, but I can tell that something is  … off. I set my book down on the counter and pop my head around the corner.

God dammit they’re at it again!

I swear the number of times I have caught them on that fucking couch doing what they are now two seconds away from doing is a number higher than any of us want to admit.

I clap my hands a few times, disrupting the quiet, and they slowly break apart. Simon looks a little sheepish, but Basil looks like he has no regrets, whatsoever.

“Basilton Pitch! Simon Snow! Now, I know this may blow your small, idiotic minds, but I need you to stay with me through this okay?” I ask, cheerily, with a bright smile plastered across my face.   

They both stare at me.

“You two, have this thing, called a ‘bedroom’. Spell it with me, b-e-d-r-o-o-m. Do you know what bedrooms are for? They are for where all of THAT,” I gesture frantically at their tangled bodies, “belongs. Not. On. The. Fucking. Couch. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Penny,” Simon sulks, and he starts to get up but Baz yanks him back down.

“No,” Baz says, looking at me with a challenge in his eyes, “She’s not going to do anything.”

“Oh, shit. I wouldn’t test me if I were you, Basil. I really wouldn’t.”

Baz shoots me a long, cool look before grabbing Simon, pinning him to the couch, and kissing Simon like it’s the last fucking thing he’ll ever do.

I scream, and storm into the bathroom. I snatch up the squirt bottle I use for my hair in the mornings, and stomp back out to the eager 20-year-olds who are practically fornicating on. My. Couch.

I walk right up to them and unleash hell. I squirt water on them furiously, screaming at them to use their own fucking bedroom. They both shriek and roar with laughter, so I spray them harder. They stumble/fall into their room, and I personally slam the door closed.

I yell at them, “Fuck you both!”

They don’t answer.

#you ask raegan answers!! #raegan writes a story #carry on fanfiction #carry on rainbow rowell #fanfiction #simon snow #baz pitch #penny bunce #snowbaz #fluff #spice #oof i wrote this in one day #i am proud of myself #woot

[kingsman-fam]

Sunrise

Merlin x Reader

Words: 768

Warnings: None! Just early morning fluff!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Kingsman!

A/N: Hi everyone! So I wanted to practice writing moods and atmospheres, and this story is the result! Just a little morning domesticity with everyone’s favorite Scottish Kingsman.

Please tell me what you think! Feedback is always appreciated and I’d be eternally grateful! As always, feel free to drop me a message or ask - I’d love to get to know all of you more!

Without further ado, enjoy! \ ( ^ U ^ ) /

Sunday mornings were certainly the best time of the week.

The day began slowly - crawling at a snail’s pace and so opposite your usual hustle and bustle that it was both foreign and relaxing. Inky black skies were transformed into hues of pinks and blues, filtering in through the curtains and bathing the room in its golden light. The birds sang merrily outside and the breeze tapped against the window’s panes; nature performing it’s soft, waking symphony. The morning chill nipped at your nose and your feet the slightest bit, but it was no matter - the situation was remedied easily enough by snuggling into the toasty warmth of the pillows and duvet.

There was no alarm today - no world that needed saving and no heinous plans that needed thwarting - and truly, it was heaven on earth.

You opened your eyes slowly, each blink drowsier than the last, as you contemplated just staying in a bit longer. For a moment, you were content to stay like that: staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom, feeling each breath fill your lungs and leave just as easily with an gentle “whoosh”. The serenity was almost dizzying - and if one could get drunk on the peace the dawn brings, you were quite certain that was what you’d be.

A quiet snore pulled you from your musings, and you couldn’t help the sleepy smile that touched your lips. The gentle sound came from none other your sleeping husband, Hamish, who lay beside you, snoring softly.

And really, you could stare at him for hours.

He was clad in nothing but a simple cotton shirt and his pajama pants, his glasses sitting quietly on the bedside table. Gone were the furrows in his brow and the deep-set frown on his face, the lines of worry smoothened over by the peacefulness of sleep. His lips were parted slightly and they whistled with every breath - the sound rhythmic, soothing, and almost a lullaby to your ears.  

He looked younger; unguarded; vulnerable - and it made your heart swell in your chest because he trusted you enough to keep him safe. It was in moments like these that you felt like the luckiest woman on earth to be able to call yourself his wife. Only you had the privilege of seeing this side of him. This was for no one else in the world but you.

On Sunday mornings, there was no Agent Gawain and no Quartermaster Merlin - only a very happy couple by the names of Hamish and (Name).

And you were quite content to stay here forever.

A sudden movement caught your attention, however, and it took a moment for you to realize that it was your husband slowly rising from the tangles of his slumber. Quickly, you closed your eyes and feigned sleep, hoping you wouldn’t be caught staring. You could feel the bed shift as he woke, and you half-expected the weight on his side to disappear as he headed to the bathroom.  

To your surprise however, it didn’t.

Instead, the weight lingered in no hurry at all - almost as if…

…as if he was staring at you too.

You had to fight the smile that wanted to paint itself on your lips.

You felt the bed shift once more, but not a second passed before a gentle hand suddenly caressed your face. Not wanting to wake you, the back of his knuckles were infinitely careful against your cheek - the touch as soft as butterfly kisses and tender with affection. You almost couldn’t resist opening your eyes - only if to see him smile - but you were curious, and so you kept them shut.

His hand hovered for a moment, resting against your hair as the pad of his thumb stroked your cheek, before you suddenly heard him whisper in a voice warm with affection,

“Y’re one lucky man, Hamish.”

The remark was so quiet - almost as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud - and it was enough to nearly bring tears to your eyes.

How was it that after so many years of marriage, he was still in love with you as ever? How was it that you were just the same for him?

You didn’t know. 

But as a tender kiss planted itself on your forehead, followed by a quiet “I love y’ so much” mumbled against your skin - you were certain that for as long as you lived, there was no one else you would rather spend your Sunday mornings with than the man right beside you.

And maybe it was just as simple as that.

#merlin x reader #kingsman #kingsman imagine #merlin #i made my self sleepy > - < - goodnight all !

[retvenkos]

dancing in corridors | m.

Merlin (BBC) - Merlin x Reader, fluff requested

tw: none

word count: 1.4k 

prompt: “Dance with me?”

A/N: It’s missing Merlin hours.

Summary: At a banquet, you and Merlin get bored with tending to the nobility and decide to sneak away for a little celebration, yourself.

Walking down the corridors to the Banquet Hall, the first thing you heard was the music; light and joyful, the tune practically begging you to dance along. You smiled at the thought, and if it weren't for the jug of wine in hand, perhaps you would have. Imagine you, dancing in the corridor for all of Camelot to see. Wouldn't that have been a sight?

The other servants wouldn't be surprised, though - they rarely were when it came to your antics. As long as you didn't rain hellfire down on them, your fellow servants and reluctant friends allowed you to have your fun, dancing in corridors and singing while doing the wash. You supposed it brought a kind of happiness to their life - a sort of second-hand thrill that made working in this fortress bearable. Oftentimes, the castle could be stifling, and looking for life within it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. There was so much that weighed the servants down, so when they saw you capture little joys, they stored them in a bottle and allowed you to roam for more. 

You closed your eyes and listened to the music for a moment. You knew the perfect dance that could go with such a song - something upbeat and dazzling, with tricky footwork and impromptu spinning. You tapped the beat on your thigh, thoroughly lost in your own world, but when a shout rose above the din of voices, you were pulled from your stupor.

Using the servant's entrance to slip into the Banquet Hall, the low buzz of sound became a roar - the nobility were coming loose after a drink or two and guffawing at the slightest hint of a joke; the knights were engaged in some debate or another, passionately defending their stance on something that seemed to have an edge of humor to it, given their wolfish grins; and even the ladies (who were usually the most composed, throughout the evening) were chatting with more vigor than usual, egging on one of their own who eventually stood and went over to the knights, asking one of their finest if he would like to dance. The feast was a success, and King Uther purveyed it all from his seat at the high table, a little more delighted than usual, but his brow still set in concentration, his glass still nearly full. 

You filled empty glasses with wine, expertly weaving through the throng of servants and guests, and for a moment you could pretend it was a dance. In a way, you supposed it was. A spin and skip you were quite good at, if you were honest. Through your work, you kept an eye on those who were known to be rather easy to excite, making sure they didn't fill their glasses too many times, but your gaze kept flicking over to someone else, as well. Merlin.

It wasn't hard to like Merlin - the whole castle had seemingly fallen under his spell - and you were no exception. He was wildly funny, hardworking (no matter what Prince Arthur seemed to say), and deeply caring. You doubted there was a servant in all the world that rivaled Merlin in loyalty. Arthur could jump off a cliff, and Merlin would be there to make sure he didn't get hurt (and then scolding him when he did). Merlin seemed to carry all of the most awe-inspiring traits in the world, and yet he didn't seem to notice them or think he was capable of such wonder. You had told him that he was extraordinary on more than one occasion, and yet he never seemed to believe you.

Not fully, anyway.

It hadn't taken the other servants long to catch on to the romance that was blossoming between the two of you, and at any chance they got, they pushed the two of you together. It was another little joy you had unwittingly brought them, and one they thought was wildly funny and immensely endearing.

Tonight was no exception. All evening, your fellow friends had been trying to get the two of you to spend time together - perhaps hoping that the music and the high spirits would rub off on you, and something momentous might happen. You weren't quite sure if you agreed, but it was good fun to be given tasks that pushed you in Merlin's direction. If it wasn't fetching him another jug of wine, it was handing him more food, and if it wasn't food, it was a servant sending you along with some message or another. You and Merlin had found the game you seemingly played incredibly funny, chuckling every time the other approached, waggling your eyebrows as though something illicit was about to happen.

When Merlin approached, you were already anticipating his arrival, having seen a fellow servant whisper in his ear. 

"Do you think the kitchens actually need our help this time?" Merlin's eyes were bright, and his tone was full of that playfulness you prayed he'd never lose. "Last I checked, there isn't much more to be done than make sure the nobility doesn't reach the end of their goblet."

"I can guarantee you the kitchen doesn't want to see me, again. I steal too much food." 

And he breathed a laugh that was so soft it was nearly covered by the music, entirely, but you heard it.

"But I do have an idea if you want to leave the feast behind," you said, lowering your voice so none of the servants around you would hear. It would be rather scandalous if they found out you had suggested such a thing, wouldn't it?

"Do you, now?"

"Dance with me?"

"Here?" And you could hear some of that scandal in Merlin's tone, enough to make you laugh.

"Out in the corridor, you dolt," your scolding was light, and you didn't miss the ease with which his shock lent itself to a grin, the expression seeming to be more natural than breathing. "Uther would have our heads if we started to dance here, don't you think?"

"He's been looking for another reason to put me in the stocks."

You both laughed.

"Well? Do you want to dance with me? It would be much better than standing here moon-eyed all night with the other servant's throwing me meaningless chores so we can cross paths."

Merlin smiled, but then his eyes flicked over to Arthur. "You don't think we'll be missed?"

"If we are, I have no doubt the other servants will have a thousand tales to cover our disappearance."

The music switched to a different song, one that must have been familiar, because it made Merlin's eyes illuminate with the kind of fondness that only memory allows for. Almost immediately, his resolve softened.

"I suppose one dance can't hurt, can it?"

"That's the spirit."

You and Merlin made your way to the exit, and he passed off his jug of wine to another servant as you went. You, on the other hand, snuck two extra goblets, which Merlin took from you with a raised brow.

"Dancing requires a little bit of fun, doesn't it?"

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"I do—" Merlin chuckled "—and so are you."

Merlin made some gesture as to brush off your praise, but you held your ground. "I mean it, truly. You don't see it, and I'll never understand why. But you are the most amazing person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, Merlin."

He seemed a little taken aback, as though he didn't know what to say or do with your appreciation. Now safely out of the hall, you poured him some wine and wrapped his hands around the goblet. Merlin scoffed, tongue in cheek, and you nodded.

"One day, you will see how enchanting you are."

You clinked your glasses together and took a sip. Music drifted from the Banquet Hall to the deserted corridor in which you stood, and you could still hear the dull buzz of conversation from within, but by all accounts, it was just you and Merlin, alone and smiling. 

"Wait until you see me dance, I'm sure you'll change your mind."

And you took his hand.

-- taglist: @locke-writes, @randomfandomimagine, @cooloaflandhero, @findmeintheafterglow, @catsbooksandmusic, @amortensie​ // message me if you want to be added!

#merlin #merlin bbc #merlin x reader #merlin imagine #merlin x you #reader insert #gender neutral reader #one shot #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #merlin fanfic #merlin fanfiction #fluff #prompt #i wrote this while in spanish class don't judge my terrible choices