#request 2402

[lostdrarryfics]

hello, i'm looking for a fic that i really thought i bookmarked, so it's possible the author deleted and i'll just have to suffer, but i thought i'd try anyway:

it's post-war, harry works for the ministry, and so does percy weasley. percy is spearheading an overzealous roundup of basically anyone who was in slytherin and might have known death eaters, and ignoring due process. the fic starts with aurors coming to question pansy and draco trying to help her escape, but they are intercepted by harry, who tells them that along with hermione and neville and some others, they are attempting to fix the problem with percy, and they'll hide pansy (they hide her with hermione's family). then kingsley announces he's going to resign and they get the idea to introduce democracy to the wizarding world, and harry campaigns for minister just to be a counter to percy until they find someone better. the fic follows the campaign mostly and ends with a capture of actual death eaters, with draco's help. i don't remember it being very graphic, just funny and sweet. (as you can see, i remember Almost everything... but the name)

anyway it would make my day to find it again. thank you!

We believe you are looking for A Young Radical's Guide to Love by blamebrampton (66k, T)

Don’t forget to bookmark, leave kudos and comments!

[vettelsvee]

YOU WROTE A SONG ABOUT ME? | Oscar Piastri

f1 one shots masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

oscar piastri x singer!reader

requested by anon: x singer!reader, maybe Oscar and his family going to her show and she sings a song about him

word count: 2402

warnings: none of them! use of y/n and y/l/n

posible part 2 if you like it and ask for it!

you can send your one shots requests here!

Oscar was nervous. Very, in fact.

It wasn't the first time he attended a concert of Y/N, his girlfriend, but every time he did he ended up getting more nervous than he should.

Perhaps the fact that today was his twenty-third birthday and he hadn't received any kind of congratulations from her had a lot to do with it.

The Australian took a deep breath and continued on, trying to catch up with his sisters and parents as quickly as possible, who had barely noticed that the boy had fallen behind, immersed in his thoughts.

Nicole quickly turned around, going to where her son was as calmly as she could, and above all making sure not to do or say anything she would regret, especially not something that would ruin the surprise her daughter-in-law had been keeping so well.

"What's wrong, honey?"

Oscar slightly startled as he felt his mother's hand on his shoulder, even letting out a small scream that startled the woman.

"Yes, of course!" the boy hurried to say, trying to calm down. "Just... I'm a little nervous, but that's all, really."

Despite the Australian's efforts to sound as calm as possible, it was in vain. Nicole could see his anxiety in his gaze and, above all, in his gestures. His hands were barely still, and every time she tried to walk beside him, he ended up putting a little more distance between them.

"I'm your mother, Oscar, you know I can catch any lie like I've done so many times before. Why are you so nervous?"

He sighed. He didn't want to share his concern, especially when they were heading to see the main reason of it.

"Well..." he tried to find the right words, finding it quite difficult. "It's just that I haven't received any message from Y/N today. Today, of all days, you know? On my birthday."

"Oh, what a shame..." the woman replied, feigning surprise. "She must have forgotten or had some problem. Have you talked to her?"

Was she really asking him that? He just told her he hadn't received any message from the brunette...

"Yes, but she hasn't replied."

"Don't worry! I'm sure there's a reason for it," assured the Piastri matriarch. "Don't let this ruin your day. If that girl doesn't call you as soon as it strikes twelve, I promise she'll have to deal with me."

"Mom..."

"No mom, Oscar," she scolded him in an ironic tone, making him laugh. "Now try to enjoy her concert and have a good time with us, okay?"

The brown-haired young man nodded, grateful for his mother's support, and continued on his way to the Rod Laver Arena, now a bit happier than before.

After passing through security checks and receiving the VIP accreditations reserved for the Piastri family, and the occasional stops for the pilot to take some photos and sign autographs with fans who recognized him, which were quite a few, they made their way to their reserved spot, located in the lower side stands just a few meters from the main stage.

"Wow, I didn't know you were so famous to have so many people following you," joked his father, making his sisters laugh.

"You should take a break!" shouted his mother, hugging him and making his cheeks turn red. "You're at your girlfriend's concert, not at one of your stupid races."

"They're the ones who make me who I am, Mom. Besides, I'm a public figure," added the brown-eyed one. "I can't ignore them and act like nothing, you know? It's not that easy."

Oscar said that, but he still felt uneasy. As he looked at his family, already occupying their seats as there was still about half an hour before the concert started, the need to see his girlfriend or at least hear some news about her was taking over him more and more.

"Mom, I'm going to see if I can find out anything about Y/N," he said impulsively, interrupting himself with his own words. "I'll be right back."

Nicole looked at him with surprise, telling him no, to wait there, and they would see what to do after the concert. But the young man had already gained some momentum and was navigating through everyone in his way around the stands, seats, stairs, and multiple corridors until he reached the place where, supposedly, his girl was.

Once he reached the supposed dressing room, a perfectly uniformed black security guard, with a completely serious expression and crossed arms, stood in front of the door.

"Um... I'm Oscar," he greeted with a wave, trying to curve his lips without trembling. "I'm Y/N’s boyfriend," he timidly pointed to the door behind him with his hand. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Piastri, but Y/N has agreed that there are no visitors before the concert today," the man responded firmly, still looking at Oscar seriously and shaking his head.

"It's just a moment. I want to wish her good luck before she goes on stage," he insisted, hoping the guard might make an exception.

"I'm sorry, sir. Rules are rules, and if the young lady said no, then it's no. I can't make any exceptions, even for you."

The Australian thanked the unfriendly man with a slight nod and, feeling defeated, made his way back to where his family was. As soon as he arrived, he had his sisters pestering him:

"Did you see Y/N? Did she say anything to you? Did she leave you wanting something, and that's why you look so depressed now?"

The eldest sister's insistence was making him feel even worse than he already did; having the other two join in the sudden conversation with curious faces and even more unsettling questions made him want to leave the place.

The young man simply remained silent. He sat in his seat and kept his gaze fixed on the stage, waiting for the lights to go out and the concert to begin.

It was a matter of the singer stepping onto the stage for the crowd to rise to their feet, applauding and chanting her name, shouting compliments and praises of all kinds.

"Good evening, Melbourne!" exclaimed Y/N, who was on a platform that had risen from the bottom of the stage. "I hope you all have a great time with me tonight because I assure you that today will be full of surprises!"

Nicole Piastri got up from her seat, as did the rest of the family, and told Oscar to do the same. He refused, remaining seated with his arms crossed, but unable to stop a smile from appearing on his lips.

He might be upset with his girlfriend's behavior for who knows what reason, but it was impossible for him not to look away from her while she danced, sang, and interacted with the audience.

It was too difficult for him not to feel proud of her and everything she had achieved.

The show continued as Oscar knew it would, having memorized it from the numerous times he had not only attended various concerts of his girlfriend's tour around the world but also from the countless rehearsals he had accompanied her to.

However, Piastri did not expect that suddenly the lights would go out and an orange glow would begin to emerge everywhere, especially illuminating the stage.

Y/N appeared again, now wearing an orange bodysuit with perfectly placed blue tones that accentuated her figure.

"Do you know what day’s today?" asked the brunette, looking with wide eyes at the audience.

"April 6th!"

She nodded, a playful smile forming on her lips more and more as she was about to reveal, and trying not to turn her head towards where her boyfriend was, whom she had deliberately avoided all day and who, possibly, would tell her to screw off after all the ghosting she had done to him on his birthday.

"And, by any chance... do you know what happens today?"

There were a variety of responses. A large part of them answered that it was Oscar's birthday, her partner's. Others were somewhat wild, as if she was about to reveal that the couple was expecting a baby, or that the young woman was going to announce her retirement from the stage after her very short musical career.

"No, it's none of that," the Australian ended up saying. "I am pleased to announce that today, here, right now, I am going to debut my new single, 'Throttle Hearts'!"

The stadium erupted in cheers and applause once again. No one, not even Oscar, expected this revelation from the girl, so it was completely normal for people to ask her to sing the song already.

Y/N, however, asked them for a moment with her hand.

Quickly, she ran to her cell phone and, secluded in a small corner of the stage, tried to make sure that the camera recording to broadcast her image on the large screens captured nothing.

At that very moment, Oscar's phone vibrated in his pocket with a notification from the same girl who was on stage:

"Happy birthday, my love! I'm so sorry for ghosting you all day, but I hope it was worth it. If you understand any references in the song, it's normal bc it's based on our story. I hope this is the best gift you can receive, at least for now, in your life. I can't wait to get off stage and give you the biggest hug in the world <3"

And there was Y/N, making eye contact with him, having a minimal interaction with her boyfriend for the first time all day. The girl had her arm raised, waving enthusiastically and making heart gestures with both hands that ended sooner than expected as she went to the piano to play the first chords of the song.

Oscar found himself trying to hide some tears, which were forming in his eyes not only as Y/N’s voice adjusted to the melody but throughout the rest of the concert.

The only thing the boy could reply to that message was whether she had really written a song about him, receiving as a response during a break between songs a large number of heart shaped emojis.

When the show came to an end and the singer disappeared beneath the stage, the Piastri family quickly grabbed their belongings to leave the venue and go to where the boy's girlfriend was. The same security guard who had previously denied him access to see the singer to the Formula 1 driver was now standing next to them, telling them to follow him.

Obviously, they didn't hesitate to say yes and followed his steps to the young woman's dressing room, who allowed her boyfriend's family to enter, welcoming them with a radiant smile and hugs that had been delayed all day.

The only thing the young couple did as words were exchanged was to look at each other, shy to show their love in front of others, as it had always been with them.

"I think we should leave the lovebirds alone for a while," Nicole began as she headed towards the exit of the room. "Don't take too long, the reservation for dinner at Oscar's favorite restaurant is at ten fifteen, and you know we take quite a while to get there."

Both of them thanked her shyly, unsure of what to do or say beyond being unable to stop smiling.

When they were alone, facing each other, they didn't know what they should say to each other. Oscar Piastri didn't know if he should reproach his girlfriend for not speaking to him all day despite preparing a surprise for him. Y/N Y/L/N was aware that perhaps she should apologize for not having done things quite right and for keeping the brown-haired boy on edge by maintaining some sort of no-contact for the past 24 hours.

Finally, it was the McLaren driver who broke the not-so-uncomfortable silence:

"Y/N, that song..." He was at a loss for words. He didn't know what else to say other than that he had loved it.

The girl smiled shyly, grateful not only that he had liked the composition she had kept to herself for the past seven months, but also for seeming to have understood.

"I've been wanting to sing it to you for a long time, but I didn't know if you’d like it," the young woman admitted. "It has had a couple of important modifications since the first draft, and since the record label wasn't cooperating much when I wanted to release it initially, I thought it would be a good birthday gift for you," she explained. "Hey, and I'm sorry if this whole game of ignoring you all day has offended you. I feel really bad, and the last thing I want is..."

"Shut up, silly!" Oscar interrupted her, approaching her to wrap her in his arm and give her a tender kiss on the forehead. "At first, I thought you wanted to break up with me, but then seeing how my mom was acting, that gorilla you have as a bodyguard denying me access, and above all you ignoring me all day..."

"I'm good at keeping secrets, and I'm absolutely in love with you, Oscar Piastri," Y/N declared, mock-offended. "Do you really think I would ignore you all day?"

"Not a chance. I know there's a good intention behind everything you do," agreed the Australian, earning himself a hug and a kiss on the lips from his girlfriend. "Did you know that I'm also good at keeping secrets?"

"Oh, really? And are you absolutely in love with me like I am with you, Piastri?"

Oscar grinned mischievously, an idea starting to appear in his mind like a flash that was making more and more sense.

Obviously, the driver was a tad resentful, and the girl wasn't going to get away with it no matter how good the intention was behind Throttle Hearts and its surprise presentation.

Now, Oscar had to prepare a surprise for the girl's twenty-second birthday that would match, or even surpass, the one she had prepared for him.

"I don't know," he shrugged, laughing more and more emphatically and perhaps frustrating his girlfriend, "I guess now you'll have to wait for your birthday to find out."

[unholyhelbig]

Secretly dating with Katelena please!!!

Title: Teacher's Pet

Ship: Yelena Belova x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 2402

Summary: Kate Bishop struggles to grabble with Yelena's sudden substitution as her instructor, but she's not the only one.

Warnings: Cannon typical violence, bullying (boo), self-doubt, mentions of death, suicide implication, angst, hurt/comfort, horrible grammar I do not beta, please let me know if I should add more.

[A/n: straight up realizing I don't ever post Kate and Yelena on here because people are too judgemental. I do write for them! Just on AO3 and not very often. Here's some fucking sustenance. I'd be willing to do a part two. A sexy part two that's not angsty. lmk what you think!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Kate’s mouth was dry in an instant. It had lost all concept of moisture when the scent of citrus and vanilla that had engulfed her just a few hours prior pressed against her senses in a wave so visceral that she pressed her nose close to the fabric of her collar and inhaled. She’d been careful enough, her own pine fragrance and sweat all the lingered.

Kate frowned and wiped the dampness away from her forehead, glancing around the second-floor gym. She’d pulled her headphones down, letting the base of an obscure rock song vibrate against the increase pulse in her throat. The steady sounds of weights and measured breaths eased her rising anxieties.

It was normal, she knew, to catch stray scents of the woman you lived with. Their toothbrushes mingled, adjacent to one another in a glass jar at the edge of Kate’s sink. The archer was sure that she wore a pair of socks that were not hers, and she had swallowed down an egg that was cooked in a way that she could not master on her own, salted to perfection.

Pulling in a tepid breath of the citrus orange and soothing vanilla was normal. Just not in the Avengers compound, and certainly not while she tried to regulate her breath on a bow flex. It had hit her out of nowhere and uncomfortably so.

An awkward, yet stern, clearing of the throat pulled her from her racing thoughts. She startles, whips her head up at a dizzying speed. In front of her is a hulking figure dressed in black. It took a few moments to register him as Director Nick Fury. Her posture had a Pavlovian response, breath stilling.

Kate rushed to stand “Sir,” 

“Agent Bishop,”

She had been the only one paying attention. At a fault, she was the first to recognize that he was about to command the room. He did just that with two solid, and loud claps. The gym stilled within moments. Other agents, recruits, had laid down weights and turned off machines. They circled the man in a half-moon, hands tucked, and jaws clenched.

Kate balanced rising panic. A low tide that pushed and pulled. Her skin was buzzing, heart thrumming the same muted word over and over again. She had begged for proper training after two years with Clint and had spent the last three years receiving it. She was an agent with a badge.

Kate trusted her gut and her gut was telling her that the air in this room was familiar. Not in the sense that she spent hours in this very room every morning. But in the sense that the air shifted in a way that was so known to her.

“Agents,” He sobered the energy in the room instantly “I’m sorry for interrupting your routine. But your usual instructor has been called away on some last-minute field work so I’ve had to pull some strings.”

Strings that required his presence did not bode well. It boded the exact opposite. She felt the gears in her back tightening ever so slightly until she was rim-rod like her mother had taught her. Ever so perfect in any event. That smell. Sure, it was plausible for any higher-level agent to take over their training, but it was even more plausible for-

“Yelena Belova will be stepping in for the foreseeable future.” Director Fury gave a proud, almost unidentifiable smile, scanning the shocked faces of the agents. “She is not directly associated with the agency. A contracted associate. She has decades worth of field work under her belt.”

Kate swore that his eye found her, but didn’t allow her own gaze to linger. Yelena’s scent clung to him from their brief interaction. A handshake, a conversation or a tour of the Avengers compound. She was careful. Too careful to scrub any trace of the Widow from her skin.

“I expect the upmost respect from each and every one of you. If I hear any different I will not hesitate to cut you from the program, and from this business entirely. Though, Miss Belova will do much worse.”

Damn right.

Kate had to bite back a scoff. Swallow it like a bitter pill. She had not kept her distaste for some of her fellow agents back behind her own walls. Not all of them were kind. A select few held a certain distaste for her. Though, she fought tooth and nail for the proper training that she craved.

She couldn’t shake the ‘rich kid’ façade. They saw her as weak. A prodigy that had skipped most of the hard work and had only gotten in because Hawkeye willed it so. She was stronger, more-skilled, and yet- they looked down on her. It was petty, leaked with venom. Reminded her too much of the teasing that was harbored in high school.

Kate tried to ignore the teasing and the biting words that surrounded her presence, prove herself based on her skills and her skills alone like she had done with Clint. Push through the rocky start. But it had done nothing to curb the insults and the icy looks. The harder punches and the isolations.

She’d curl up in Yelena’s lap, the woman carding her fingers through her hair, whispering raspy Russian that would rumble through her chest and settle her into a quiet haze. That orange scent enough to relax her. Her nose warm after a long day in the New York weather.

Of course, she’d offer to straighten them out. To march down to the Avengers compound and scare sense into the agents that gave Kate a hard time. The archer would curl close to the widow and kiss freckles from the smoothness of her skin before moving down the expanse of her jaw.

It was easy to fluster her, distract her from the task at hand and spread the blush that rose so willingly. “That’s very valiant of you, but I think it’ll make things worse.”

“mm” She would purr, tilting her head to give Kate more access “It would shut them up, though.”

Shut them up, it would. One look and the agents would quiet. One subtle touch to the small of the Kate’s back at an event and the context of the tension between them would evaporate. Kate didn’t’ go out of her way to show up at Christmas parties, or events that weren’t required these past four years. She’d much rather spend it at home in her shared apartment with their dogs.

This would complicate things.

They were sharing a space outside of their home. Outside of conjoined hands, and Clint’s farmhouse. Outside of soft embraces, candlelight dinners, and expeditions across oceans to spend summers at the farm where Meliana had retired.

“Dismissed.” Fury had cleared the rigidity of the room as quickly as he had called attention to it. The agents in her class relaxed their shoulders as he turned on his booted heel and stopped out of the gym. The compression door breathing out a sigh of relief.

The second he was out of earshot, a lanky ammunitions expert coated in a vicus layer of sweat took a daring stretch towards her. A cocky smile on his lips. “Bishop, don’t you know her?”

“Yeah, that reckless holiday escapade you pulled as a rookie back in 21’ brought you pretty close huh?” Agent Sterling nudged Parks.

The two of them egged each other on with a goading annoyance. They were shit at combat but enjoyed blowing things up. Short with tempers but could rile anyone on the team until something exploded in a flurry of ash and flame. Most of the time it was Kate that was their target, the rest of their small class watching with edged smiles.

She kept quiet always. Breathed through the jaunts. This was never meant to be her permanent arrangement, a means to an end that would carry her to those that she wanted to be around. Sterling and Parks were meant for one another in the lab.

Kate glowered at them, reached for the towel she had draped over the equipment she was using. Parks grasped it first and dragged it across his gummy expression. “I asked you a question, Bishop.”

Agent Kitt, a woman who had the slightest bit of neutrality towards Kate gave her a look of pity that only seemed to stir the aggravation within her. She stared into the childish gaze of Parks, wishing she could wipe the grin off his face with an open-handed slap.

Kate let out a huff and moved to push past the two men. They steeled themselves and their acrid scent filled her lungs. Sterling crossed his arms over his chest. She glowered at him. “Move.”

“Fa-la-la-la-la forget it.”

“Grow the hell up.”

Kitt shook her head, spoke softly “Let her through, Sterling. It’s getting late.”

His shoulders fall slightly, but the shit-eating grin on his face doesn’t falter. He steps to the side and let’s Kate walk towards the very doors that Fury had just exited from. She doesn’t make it far before the two men bubble into a cruel laughter that burns against her skin like acid.

Parks says loud enough for Kate to hear. “Word has it Belova only let her live out of pity because it was Christmas. I didn’t know a Widow was capable of something like that. Should have spared us and let her die.”

Kate felt the pinpricks at the back of her eyes and the lump form in her throat against her will. It angered her that things like this affected her. It was unfair, cruel in it’s own right. They were just words. Horrible words that deep down, she figured she deserved sometimes.

She made it halfway down the hall before she used the heels of her hands to wipe the traitorous tears away. The made it the other half before cold fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled her into a supply closet that was filled with a chemical scent.

Kate made an embarrassing sound of shock in the back of her throat, an attempt to thrash when her back was slammed softly into the cool wood of the supply closet door. Her head was cradled by a hand that was equally as cold.

It took a moment for her mind to catch up with her surroundings. Yelena took over her senses, her hands always cold and her breath always warm against her throat. Three blinks later and the darkness gave way to the worried expression of her girlfriend.

Very perceptive, this one, wiping away her tears in a matter of seconds. “Oh, Malen'kiy yastreb, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t,”

She melted into Yelena, moved her hands from the girls shoulders to her collarbone, splaying them out, checking to see if she were real. She hadn’t realized how much she needed her. More tears had slipped down her cheeks that were burning with embarrassment.

Despite her towering height, Yelena cradled her as she fell forward. Letting Kate fall into her arms, tuck herself into her neck as if she belonged there. A puzzle piece that was sweaty and snotty and oh, so tired.

“You should have killed me.” Kate eventually whimpered.

“What?” Yelena pulled back in the darkness, a little crinkle in between her brows, the green of her eyes still vibrant and sharp, thumbs smoothing over the heat on Kate’s complexion. “Kate Bishop the chemicals in here are barely enough to tamp down bacteria, I doubt they can make quick work of you.”

They earned a watery chuckle, her forehead pressed against Yelena’s as she closed her eyes. They’d been through this before. It took Kate a few moments to gather her thoughts, to slow her heart. Yelena never pushed. Sometimes the thoughts rushed past her so quickly they were overwhelming and made little sense.

Kate gripped into the lapels of Yelena’s coat to ground herself. “Parks and Sterling… regular jackasses. Fury announced that you were taking over our training.”

“Ah, he’s fast. We just signed the contract. I was hoping to tell you first.”

Yelena’s hands went to her waist to steady her, a gentle squeeze. Kate wasn’t mad, would never be. She opened her eyes and met a worried expression that had already been searching hers for some solace. She was such a mess, one that Yelena had spent so much time cleaning up and vice versa.

She sighs, leaning back against the door. The action is stuffy, making her feel heady and light. “I try to tune them out, you know? It’s easy. But sometimes they really dig their heels in, Yel. Twist that knife.”

“What did they say to you?” She grits her teeth, softness switching to a hard anger in a shuttered breath.

“It doesn’t matter it-“

“Certainly does,” Yelena soothes, pressing forward, her lips close to Kate’s but not quite touching, she nips lightly as a way to silence her partner in a light warning. “You are distressed, are you not?”

Kate makes a small noise before recounting the very fresh lashing she had endured in the gym. She watched Yelena’s expression darken. It was alluring, almost, the way that the Widow’s expression could change in a subtle way from soft, to serpentine. Kate could feel her pulse quicken.

“I can handle this very swiftly,” and then she smiles almost wickedly, squeezing Kate’s hips in a grounding gesture. “So could you.”

“As an instructor, you really should be setting an example.”

“Yes, but as a contracted instructor I could get very creative with their demise.”

Kate chuckled in a watery mess. It was going to be a long semester. Her time as an academy recruit was drawing to a close, and so was her tortuous stint as a punching bag for Parks and Sterling.

She wipes away any lingering tears, giving Yelena a small smile that almost reaches her eyes. “Are there any non-violent benefits that come with dating the teacher?”

Yelena chuckles in a beautiful exhale, shaking her head. Her cheeks flush a brilliant red, even in the dull darkness of the supply closet they’re crammed into. Kate can still fluster her in a clumsy sort of way after all these years together. It’s a feat. It’s fantastic.

“Maybe, Kate Bishop.” Yelena shrugs, nudging their noses together. “There might be some extra credit.”

[kpopsexstories]

I'm a big fan of your stories but today I feel a bit disappointed again that doyoung's story is divided into parts, someone once rightly suggested not to divide the story into parts, it's just my opinion that I wanted to share.

⬇️ There's a complete master list of all NCT Dating Ban stories and parts further down in this post (gay smut).

Hii 😊👋

I'm very happy that you like them 🤗 And I appreciate your opinion and agree with the reasoning behind it that the person who made that request had. I want you to be as engaged in a story as possible.

The dating ban is a little different though. Because it's an actual series where each part is like a chapter, I want to keep you hooked and engaged over time.

For the most part I don't divide stories anymore, specifically thanks to that past request not to do so. That's especially true for my one-shots which can be any length and are nowadays still just one long post, where in the past I used to divide long stories to milk them for content and keep the blog alive. The longer a story is, the longer it most likely took me to write it.

But for the dating ban I do need to keep you around while I work on the next few idols. I aim for 2-4k words per part/post with logical breaks. As you know there will be a gap between Doyoung's second part and the next idol, and ideally that gap should be as short as possible. Thanks to dividing some past stories into parts, including Doyoung's, I've reduced the gap by a month!

So, for this series I have opted to keep dividing in places where I feel like it's logical and builds up to something. I hope that doesn't turn you off 🙂

If it helps, you have an exciting second half of Doyoung's story to look forward to next week 😁

If I ever do a dating ban series for a third group in the future (not currently in the making, but I'd like to one day) I will take to heart the requests to not divide, and plan accordingly from the start.

So thanks again for sharing your thoughts 🤗❤️ I do listen to them even if I have made a different decision specifically for the dating ban series.

For anyone who has missed the (gay smut) Dating Ban series so far, here's a complete overview of all the stories and parts that we're talking about.

NCT Dream. In the beginning each story was its own thing, but it developed into a series over time with more fluff, hotter smut, and references to the other stories:

Story #1.1: Jisung Pt. 1 (2914 words)

Story #1.2: Jisung Pt. 2 (1569 words)

Story #2: Haechan (3621 words)

Story #3: Mark (3836 words)

Story #4.1: Renjun Pt. 1 (2402 words)

Story #4.2: Renjun Pt. 2 (2075 words)

Story #5.1: Jeno Pt. 1 (2313 words)

Story #5.2: Jeno Pt. 2 (2095 words)

Story #6: Chenle (3704 words)

Story #7.1: Jaemin Pt. 1 (3292 words)

Story #7.2: Jaemin Pt. 2 (2798 words)

Story #8.1: All 7 Members (2270 words)

Story #8.2: All 7 Members (4623 words)

Story #8.3: All 7 Members (3740 words)

Bonus Story: NCT Dream New Year's Celebration (937 words)

NCT 127. This follow-up series was written as an actual series from the start. It references the Dream series (it takes place after) and has the same format, but with more sub-plot and connection between the stories:

Story #1: Haechan (2179 words)

Story #2: Jungwoo (3526 words)

Story #3: Doyoung ft. Jisung (3466 words)

Story #4.1: Johnny Pt. 1 (5799 words)

Story #4.2: Johnny Pt. 2 (3435 words)

Story #5.1: Taeyong Pt. 1 (1671 words)

Story #5.2: Taeyong Pt. 2 (3297 words)

Story #6.1: Doyoung Pt. 1 (2111 words)

Story #6.2: Doyoung Pt. 2 (to be published June 14, 2025)

Total word count so far: 67,773. That's a whole freakin' novel! 😅

The remaining 127 members – Yuta, Mark and Jaehyun – are currently being written. They don't have dates yet as I don't know when they'll be done 🙂 There will also be an 8-member final but probably not an elaborate orgie like the dreamers had, just something to conclude everything. And at least one secret bonus story.

Please enjoy all this gay smut and don't be afraid to reach out with thoughts, wishes, comments and requests as I keep working on the rest of the series 😄 Even if it's just to say hi.

[lpsotd]

May I request Giraffe #2402 for LPSOTD on september 27th this year? if that date is taken, i will gladly propose the 27th of october instead.

todays littlest pet shop of the day is ... giraffe #2402 !! for you, anon !!

[the-insomniac-emporium]

SWORDTEMBER '24, DAY 2: SAKURA

Oops it's late. But hey, introducing a format that most if not all of my written entries will use from here on out, as well as a new OC: Cynthia Delabaunte. Parts of her story will be told within the little writing snippets under the cut for these entries :3 Might also expand on her story separately, too, once I can type properly again. -----

Item ID: EO-2402 Item Name: Decorative Blade Category: B-2 Origin Point: Telloran, Katal Owner: Cynthia Delabaunte (C), Naomi Tellorvoso (O) Description: A sword of traditional make and design, in accordance with a specific sect of Earthen history (see files JN-001 through JN-387 for additional context). Likely made from steel. No testing has been done for confirmation. The closest accurate designation that can be given is a katana, but it must be noted that modern examples have strayed from traditional standards. Flowers from a cherry blossom tree (see file EO-2002) are engraved along one side of the blade, the wood of the handle is from the same species, and the cloth bindings appear to be dyed in order to match the color of the flower petals. In need of sharpening, but still dangerous in the right hands. Cataloger’s Notes: If this hadn’t been officially logged within the mailing system already, I wouldn’t bother recording it at all. At least this way there’s less of a chance Naomi will get in trouble (doubt the boss will care that she didn’t know she’s not allowed to send this kind of thing to my office). Hopefully I can get it moved to my apartment without too much fuss… if not, well, guess I’ll just have to find a way to re-categorize this, too.

----- From a technical perspective, a very legal and according to employee file kind of way, Cynthia Delabaunte is nothing more than a cataloger for the Federal Port Authority of the planet Katal. Just one of many working endlessly to inspect, categorize, and manage the influx of items confiscated by inspectors. In practice, she has to be many other things: A historian, a diplomat, an archivist, an antiquarian, and more.

Today, she is trying her hand at being an arborist. For the first time in her decade of experience, the FPA has confiscated an entire goddamn tree.

It waits, stationary, in the loading bay, towering over the rest of the packages. Mocking her, just barely in view from her office window. Slowly, slowly dying. All because someone in the capitol procrastinated on paperwork, It was supposed to be allowed to pass through without any issue, with approval months in advance, bypassing the strict laws regarding potentially invasive species.

By the looks of it, the cherry blossom tree stands little chance of outliving the tiresome games of bureaucracy. Assuming Cynthia doesn’t find a way to speed along the process, at least. She is trying, bless her heart, but one can only call in so many favors before an effort begins to feel futile. Evidently, she needs to change tactics. A loophole, maybe? If she can change the tree’s legal classification… make it count as less than it is (the same way she only counts as a cataloger), then perhaps she can force the FPA to release it.

The only question is where to start- but that gets answered for her soon enough, a message request popping up on her computer. From none other than the tree’s rightful owner, the head of one of Katal’s most important families, Naomi Tellorvoso. Despite having no shortage of experience dealing with important people, Cynthia still feels her heart race at the prospect of talking to the woman.

Thankfully, the message request is for text only. That, she feels, is far less intimidating. Especially once the texts start flying back and forth, Naomi’s frustrations unleashed in a flurry of accusations that came to a screeching, apologetic halt the very moment she realized Cynthia wasn’t responsible for the tree being impounded.Still, the would-be arborist proceeds with caution, refusing to make any direct promises this early into their conversation. Instead, she probes for any information that might be twisted to their benefit.

Naomi’s tone, even though text, softens as soon as she begins sharing the history of the tree. Apparently it is old, having outlived three generations of the Tellorvoso family, genetic modifications making it last far longer than natural members of the species. First planted by Naomi’s great great grandmother, within the garden of their home planet. For decades the tree was the centerpiece of their estate, a shining testament to their heritage (something few humans could trace in this age), with fallen flowers and branches used for traditional crafting.

When the great great grandmother passed, the terms of her will had her buried along the roots of the tree. So too were her children laid to rest in its shade. Now, with Naomi’s mother passing beyond the veil, the Tellorvoso family yearned to have the cherry blossoms bloom closer to home, to have its roots grow strong alongside the rest they have planted. Apparently there had been much praying and deliberating before they agreed to transport the tree from their old homeworld to Katal, wanting to be sure their forefathers would not be frothing with rage in the afterlife.

But all Cynthia needed to know was that someone had been buried beneath the tree. That alone was enough for her to start pulling strings, even as she listened to Naomi continue the tale of her family’s journey across the stars. If you asked either of them, they would not have been able to pinpoint the moment they had switched their conversation to a phone call instead of text. By the time they say their farewells, Cynthia has already managed to re-categorize the sakura tree as a container, the contents being human remains.

Grim? Perhaps, but the port authority is less strict about the movement of coffins than about the introduction of potentially invasive species into the ecosystem (even in highly isolated, controlled circumstances).

Within a week the tree is gone, sent out while Cynthia was at home, and she almost misses the vibrant pink taking up her office view. Almost. Another month passes before she hears anything more from the Tellorvoso family, coming in one day to find a large package resting atop her desk. Clearly marked for her, from Naomi, having already gone through the office’s mailing system. The attached card features a photo of the tree in its new resting place, now looking more lively than it had when it left the office.

But it’s the contents of the box that has Cynthia scrambling to message Naomi, trying to make sense of the absolutely beautiful sword (left unsharpened, yet no less intimidating) that absolutely should not have been sent to her work. Flower petals line the box, helping obscure the weapon, and as she cannot help but admire the craftsmanship while she waits for Naomi to pick up. Nestled among the packing are several bags of tea, as well as a few wrapped candies. Clearly the intent is rather friendly.

Maybe, ah, friendly, based on the way Naomi answers the phone, a little breathy and far less confident than the first time they spoke. She apologizes for breaking the rules, hastily, and rushes right into an offer to properly thank Cynthia for her efforts. Drinks, or dinner, or teaching her how to wield a sword. If that’s what she wants. And by the Ancients, it is what she wants.

[janetushar1]

Gene Editing Market to Hit $16.2 Billion by 2032

The global Gene Editing Market was valued at USD 5.1 Billion in 2024 and it is estimated to garner USD 16.2 Billion by 2032 with a registered CAGR of 15.6% during the forecast period 2024 to 2032.

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Top Players

Lonza Group Ltd. (Switzerland), Perkinelmer Inc. (U.S.), CRISPR Therapeutics AG (Switzerland), Thermo Fisher Scientific Inc. (U.S.), Eurofins Scientific (Luxembourg), Aglient Technologies Inc. (U.S.), Danaher Corporation (U.S.), Genscript Biotech Corporation (U.S.)

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[wellnessweb]

Long-term Care Software Market Size: A Comprehensive Overview

The Long-term Care Software Market Size was valued at USD 2.77 billion in 2022, and expected to reach USD 7.33 billion by 2030, and grow at a CAGR of 12.9% over the forecast period 2023-2030.The Long-term Care Software market is at the forefront of revolutionizing healthcare management for aging populations worldwide. As societies grapple with increasing life expectancy and complex healthcare needs, innovative software solutions are emerging to streamline care delivery, enhance efficiency, and improve patient outcomes.

These platforms integrate comprehensive features like electronic health records (EHR), care planning tools, medication management systems, and billing solutions, empowering caregivers and administrators alike to deliver personalized, timely, and cost-effective care. With a focus on interoperability and data analytics, Long-term Care Software is not just transforming how facilities operate but also ensuring that elderly and vulnerable populations receive the quality care they deserve in a rapidly evolving healthcare landscape.

Get Sample of This Report @ https://www.snsinsider.com/sample-request/2402

Market Scope & Overview

The latest market research examines the major economic trends that are fueling the expansion of the Long term Care Software Market . There are many different parts to the research report, including market breakdowns by product type, application, end-user, and region. The study of external and internal factors that are anticipated to have positive or negative effects on the firm has given decision-makers a clear future vision of the sector.

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Market Segmentation Analysis

By Product Type

Electronic Health Records

E-prescribing

Clinical Decision Support Systems

Real-Time Location Systems

Remote Patient Monitoring Systems

Billing, Invoicing, and Scheduling Software

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On-premise

Cloud

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Home Healthcare Agencies

Hospice Care Facilities

Nursing Homes and Assisted Living Facilities

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[luvvyouforever]

don't want you like a best friend - r.b.

pairing: robin buckley x afab reader

written by request! word count: 2402

content: she/her pronouns, afab reader, smut, fingering, reader is wearing a dress, fluff, yearning!, kissing, making out, 18+

---

“you looked great tonight, y/n,” robin whispered in the passenger side of your car, eyes ogling the way the slit showed off almost your whole leg in the car seat. her eyes traveled up slowly, finally landing on your face which held a graceful smile. 

there was always something more when it came to the friendship between robin and yourself. you weren’t sure what it was. but it felt like adoration, closeness, vulnerability, and love. you thought it was more than the friend kind of love she held for steve. it was the love that felt deeper than anything and more real than anything. 

however, living in hawkins did not provide much safety to explore this deeper meaning. there were conservative eyes watching your every move. it felt risky to even attend prom together however, everyone believed you were just “friends.” you were friends, sure. but friends didn’t look at you the way that robin just looked at you. 

“you always look great, robs,” you whispered back. she blushed and peered down at her outfit. though she wanted a suit, her mother forced her into a dress. however, she made it her own with her abundance of rings and bracelets and chains. she looked like robin but in a wine-colored, tea-length prom dress. 

the car ride from school to your home felt like an eternity but one that wasn’t awkward or tense. it was peaceful as the two of you had grown tired after dancing away to madonna for the majority of the night. the windows were down, providing some coolness after the heat of the cramped gym caused sweat to drip down your forehead. 

eventually, the driveway to your house came into view and no cars were parked in front. it was as if the universe was on your side when your aunt invited your parents up to her house for the weekend. neither you nor robin had the courage to do anything about a whole house to yourselves for the weekend. therefore, steve did it for you, practically shoving robin into your arms. 

once the car was parked, the two of you stepped barefoot onto the concrete, heels abandoned hours ago. it was quiet all the way to your front door and then when you stepped in too. 

“i wanna get out of this dress now,” robin muttered, tugging at the chest that felt too tight. you thought that it looked great on her, sticking in the right places and flaunting off the parts of her you found yourself staring at one too many times. 

“come on, we’ll go up to my room and put on some pajamas,” you told her. she smiled gratefully and followed you down the hallway and into the darkened room. with a tug on the lamp string, the room was now bathed in a warm glow. robin looked gorgeous in this lighting just as she looked gorgeous under the colorful lights at prom and under the fluorescent lights in school and under any light, really. she was gorgeous, simply. 

your eyes averted from robin and down to the ground, ashamed of the amount you’ve looked at her in just these two minutes of being alone in your room, in your house. to busy yourself, you worked on taking your makeup off and untwisting the intricate hairdo nancy suggested. through the mirror, you could see robin struggling with the zipper of her dress. 

“here, let me get it for you,” you said, standing and coming up to her back. your fingers grazed her skin and she shook with the chill that ran down her spine. you whispered an apology and undid the clasp holding the zipper together. once that was free, you pulled the zipper down her back. a breath got caught in your throat at the realization that she was wearing no bra underneath. 

unintentionally, your fingertips traced her spine and down the curve of her back, ending just a few inches above the curve of her ass. she held onto the dress at the top but the bottom of it opened up just enough to see the hem of her red underwear. you felt your hands go clammy and your body shake with anticipation. 

she turned around slowly. “thanks,” she said. she must’ve noticed the thickness of the air around you. her cheeks were bright red and her eyes were looking at your feet on the carpet. “do you, um, have any pajamas i can wear? i didn’t pack much.” 

“yeah! yeah, for sure,” you answered. thankful for the distraction, you turned around and started pilfering through your drawers. once you found a matching set, you handed them to her. however, her eyes didn’t move from the bashful stare she had on your figure as you were bent over to go through your clothes. “like the view?” you asked unseriously. 

it seemed like her brain hadn’t fully caught up with the tension of the moment so she nodded and whispered, “i do. so much. you have no idea.” her eyes suddenly went wide once she heard what escaped from her lips. she started a short pace, hands desperately clutching at the top of her dress. “oh god, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to say that. i’m sorry. jesus. i wasn’t thinking and you look so beautiful and you have all night. you do every second, actually. i’m sorry. i don’t want to look to deep into what we have but i know it’s special and i don’t want to ruin it and-” 

“robin,” you mumbled. she stopped her stream of words as well as the pacing. “you don’t have to be sorry. i promise.” 

“i feel like a pervert, though. staring at you while you’re bent over like that.” 

“robin…i’ve been staring at you all night. are you kidding? you look beautiful. you looked better than anyone else in that gym tonight. you always do. don’t apologize. i want this more than you think.” 

“you do?” she asked incredulously. “do you really? want this, i mean? want me? i didn’t want to assume anything. because you know what they say! makes an ass out of you-” 

you couldn’t keep the smile off your face at her rambling and decided, at that very moment, to step closer to her and plant a kiss on her lips. it effectively cut her off however she didn’t kiss back. you pulled back almost immediately but then with a free hand, she pulled you back into her body and kissed you just as if not more passionately. it felt like everything was meant to be. you understood now why nancy says her kisses with jonathan feel like fireworks. when you’re with the right person, they really do. 

robin seemed to forget about the dress hanging off of her body and wrapped her two arms around your waist, caging you in. you were pressed so tightly to her that the dress didn’t even budge. your lips did not move ideally in sync and it took a minute to find a good rhythm. teeth clashed at sudden bursts of roughness or your lips barely brushed together with softness. 

once the two of you felt secure in your movements, robin backed you up till the back of your knees hit your bed. she pulled back for just a moment and it was a beautiful sight. slowly, she let the dress fall off her body. 

“wow… you…,” you whispered. you weren’t sure what to say and you were pretty much speechless. your eyes slid down the curves of her body and drank in every detail, every freckle, every beauty mark, and every sign that her body was lived in. perfection. you thought. perfection.

“like the view?” she said, mirroring your previous words. you nodded quickly and she smiled with the newfound confidence flooding her body. her eyes then lowered to your dress and then back up to your own. “think you should look the same.” 

“only bought this so you could take it off of me.” 

she pounced, your words sinking in, and making her toes curl. her hands pushed you down onto the bed and with a nudge, she rolled you over. her fingers struggled with the buttons and clasps but eventually, she unzipped it the entire way. her touch lingered just above the small of your back and you ached for more. you didn’t know someone’s touch could be this intoxicating.

slowly, she unhooked your bra so your lack of clothing matched. you flipped back onto your back while her hands held her up on either side of your head.

“you’re so stunning,” she whispered. her head dipped down to lean against your forehead and your warm breath mixed with yours, bringing a tint to her cheeks. “i think about you all the time. i mean all the time. when i’m working, when i’m studying. at night. you’re all i want.” her ramble eased with another passionate kiss to your lips. 

suddenly, everything sped up but it also felt like everything was in slo-mo. her kisses grew desperate and wet. she trailed from your lips, over to the corner of your jaw, down your neck, and right at the conjunction between your chest and neck, she sucked hard, ensuring there’d be a splotchy mark in the morning. her eyes met yours just as her lips found your breast and for the next however long, your head was thrown back in pleasure as she ensured they received enough attention. 

“jesus, robin,” you whimpered. you felt her lips curl up into a smile against her skin. without warning, her mouth encircled the center of your breast, and each time her teeth grazed the sensitive skin, you whined. you weren’t exactly sure how robin was so good at what she was doing but it didn’t matter at the moment. 

soon, she was satisfied with the amount of attention given to your upper body and wished to give your lower half the same amount. with your eyes still connected, her hands splayed across your stomach as her lips attached to your thigh. at the first lick and subtle bite, you fell for her deeper and melted to mere water in her hands. her fingers danced up and down your side which sent goosebumps along your arms and legs. she moved from thigh to thigh, going up and down. with each kiss, you felt your desperation and arousal grow, especially at your core. 

your hand met hers and you squeezed it to gain her attention. she looked up with a questioning look. “as much as i’m enjoying the attention, i need more. please.” as subtly as possible, you directed her own hand towards the hem of your underwear. 

“are you one hundred percent sure? i don’t want you to feel pushed at all,” she asked for reassurance one more time. instead of verbally expressing your need, you bucked up just enough for her hand to knock against the wettest spot of your underwear. “okay. okay. message received.” 

her hands shook just the smallest amount as they dipped below the hem of your underwear. robin prided herself on knowing the female anatomy rather well but she was still shocked when her finger grazed your clit and a shiver shook through your entire body. she was desperate for another reaction like that and ran her hand past you once more. “ah-fuck,” you whimpered. 

just to test the waters, robin’s hands moved up and down, slipping between the folds of your body then coming back up to your clit. in one sudden push, her fingers slipped into your entrance. they curled up like it was an automatic response. a groan slipped through your lips at the feeling of her slender fingers hitting the exact spot that made you crazy. 

she kept her movements consistent but varied like a pattern. she’d expertly move from her fingers going in and out then floating up to your clit where she’d rub and tease till you couldn’t stand it. a pressure built deep in your stomach but robin held off speeding up her movements. she wanted to keep this moment going on for as long as she could. she enjoyed seeing your eyes closed shut and your mouth open, haphazardly letting moan after moan out. in between those were whispers or grunts of her name. 

robin knew then there was nothing she wouldn’t do to make you hers forever. homophobes of hawkins be damned. robin would marry you in the middle of town if it would make you happy. she was glad you had the night alone and she was eternally grateful your feelings were the same. now robin could do this to you every night if you would let her. 

slowly, she nudged over, careful not to take away contact. she placed her weight on her knees, opting to use both of her hands on you. she pushed your underwear to the side and the minute her thumb touched your clit while her other fingers remained inside of you. the constant motion of her curled fingers mixed with the bundle of nerves being quickly stimulated made the pressure in stomach grow to an intolerable amount. 

with an almost shriek of her name, you came around her fingers. her movements didn’t stop but just slowed down. when your breathing returned to a normal pace, she pulled out slowly. then, she was on top of you, kissing your hot cheeks and pouting lips. 

“you…are so perfect,” you said in one breath. “how we went this long without finally doing this, i have no idea. i didn’t know how much i needed this.” robin smiled. “needed you.”

robin not-so-gracefully fell to your side, propping up her head with an arm. she was quiet but not because she couldn’t speak. she just didn’t have to. there was nothing for her to explain or excuse or feel awkward about. it was just simply a peaceful existence. she didn’t know good this could feel. 

that moment of peace was short-lived, though, once you had your energy back. she gasped as her back hit the bed and you were now on top of her. you repeated her kissing motions and went so far down to leave a kiss at the base of her stomach. “your turn now,” you said, hands pushing her legs apart. maybe peace wasn’t needed.

---

hehe hope you enjoy!! requests are always open and they will get wrote at one point or another i promise!

[specialbrewbutterbeer]

Making The Mark (Regulus Black x Reader)

Word Count: 2402

TW: This is probably the most graphic of what I've written- not sure why, just venting a lot of grittiness and angst? But yeah, injury, blood, vomit, angst

REQUESTS (OPEN)

MASTERLIST

Regulus stood in the chamber, perfect posture and dressed well in a dark, well pressed suit. His parents stood either side of him, his father's hand clamped on his shoulder and his mother with a proud and determined glint in her eye, both stern with puffed out chests, like peacocks with their beaks in the air.

The Dark Lord, with pale waxy skin, a face that was only just slowly turning away from human, and the whites of his eyes permanently yellowed and bloodshot, approached them.

Around the edges of the room stood the already initiated members of the Dark Lord's army, and a good many of his other most loyal followers. They stared into the middle of the room, ready for the spectacle of the branding.

The Dark Lord crept closer, twitching and his eyes darting about in fragmented, jolting movements, across Regulus' face and body.

Soon he was close enough that Regulus could smell the scent of soil and decomposition upon him, mixed with the kind of smell that often came from antiquitated books, like mold. He heard his hissing, laboured breathing, a weezing, hoarse sort of sound. The tension in the air was palpable, thick and heavy.

The Dark Lord suddenly reached out and grabbed Regulus' left arm, gripping it hard and digging his fingers into Regulus' young flesh. His parents took their places to watch, stepping away from their son.

"So young." The Dark Lord mumbled. "Very good, isn't it? To have such young, loyal men on our side." He smirked, his lips turning upward and the rest of his face staying alarmingly still. He stared Regulus in the eyes as he produced his wand and pressed it deeply into the young man's forearm and began to chant parceltongue.

Regulus looked down and winced, clenching his teeth together as he watched his skin be flooded with stains.

Immediately it began to burn, like boiling water was being poured on his skin. It felt like his skin was bubbling up, though it didn't physically do so. Then the deeper pain began, like cutting up his muscle from the inside. Something trying to get out. He tried not to show how much of the pain he felt as he put his other hand on his forearm, just below his elbow, and gripped it tightly, pulling at his arm in some instictive way to try to relieve the pain and began to shake violently.

He did scream though, as he heard, and felt, the bone in his arm slowly crack and splinter, shattering inside him. A cry out that he quickly muffled, as he felt every shard of bone penetrate the flesh, he was even sure he saw pieces try and break through his skin.

The pain was a hot and searing one that radiated now up his arm. The sharpest pain though was still around the mark as it took an agonisingly long time to form it's hideous shape.

Like water, it moved and flowed smoothly, but it's inky tendrils bled out in every direction, like it was alive under his skin. It was awful to look at but he couldn't pull his eyes off of the tangled mass.

All of his body was tensed up, his chest especially was tight- so every gasp was short and sharp. He wanted to screech out in pain but he knew he couldn't more than he had. He knew that was dangerous.

It seemed to go on and on- for hours- fighting against the pain, feeling that darkness run rampant in his veins.

But it did end. Finally- it did. He was exhausted, he felt surrounded and vulnerable, he could feel the piercing glare of every set of eyes on him.

He collapsed to his knees, a bead of cold sweat running down the back of his neck and causing him to shiver. There was a sickening round of applause and he looked down at his arm- that familiar sigil as black as the night; emblazoned upon him forever.

(Y/l) lay half asleep in bed. It was dark out and she had no reason to think anything was amiss. It was a hot summers night, she wore a vest and white lace trimmed shorts, comfortable and focusing only on the breeze from the window she had cracked open.

That was until she heard a weak knock at her door- like someone had just pulled back their fist and let it fall against the door.

Initially she was nervous, her parents were away for the weekend and it was nearly midnight- so she just stood at the top of the stairs and looked down, heard a second knock, as limp and lazy as the last and then another. Then, a quiet and pained groan, in a familar voice, calling her name.

As she heard that she couldn't get to the door fast enough, she unbolted it and found Regulus leaning on the door frame, even in the dark she could see how gravely ill he looked, not a drop of colour in his cheeks, cold and sweaty, out of breath. He could barely stand.

"Reggie!?" She exclaimed , seeing one of her dearest friends and grabbed his arms to steady him.

"(Y/n)," He seemed to only be able to mumble, stumble over every word spoken under his breath. "(Y/n)" He couldn't think straight enough to do anything but repeat her name.

She pulled him inside and kicked the door closed. As she did, she felt him stumble as his legs gave in, and his entire body start to follow suit. She watched as he took a single deep breath, hold it and exhale rigidly, and she just managed to hold his weight for a moment as she lowered him onto the floor in the hall. He was bigger than her, taller and broader, though not a big man, that weight became substantial as he became largely unresponsive. She cradled his head in her lap as she knelt on the floor, and reached out and touched his face. It was damp and ice cold to touch, she let her fingerstips remain on his cheek for a moment as she tried to figure out what to do. She could only stare down at him, his pale face drained of colour, sunken and his eyes slightly glassy. Something was terribly wrong, but in the dark she couldn't tell what it was yet.

She was terrified, unsure of what to do and now, though his eyes flickered when she called his name, he was as still as if he were dead. She pushed his hair back out of his face and watched in horror as his eyes rolled back in his head.

She went to take his hand, and immediately recoiled, a cold, sticky feeling separating their hands. She pulled her fingers back and held them up. In the small amount of light she had, she watched her hand shake and saw her fingertips glisten with a thick, dark substance.

She looked back down at his hand, and saw the mark on his forearm. The mark itself was clearly outlined, but smeared with dark, coagulating blood, oozing and leaking from the mark itself, which had begun to drip down onto his hand, sicky veins of it spiraled around his fingers and pooled on his palm.

She wanted to scream as she recognised it, and processed what had happened. She was shaking, with a knot deep in her stomach that tightened by the minute, and she thought she was going to burst out into tears, so overwhelmed with it.

This was symptom of the mark, it had to be. Was it some sort of first trial? Or was this just it? Is this the sickness that prevails when you allow evil to indulge itself in you? When no one who should, cares enough to prevent it? Or was this the body's moves of rejection?

She didn't know. She just knew that this was darker and more powerful magic than she could handle. Reggie was the talent of the dark arts, and now the victim.

Then a thought flashed through her mind, one final question.

'Could he die?'

She didn't know. She didn't know at all and all she could do was finally let herself sob. He cradled him and pressed her palms to his icy cheeks. She craned over close to him, and a strand of hair fell over her face. She couldn't bare to pull a hand away from him for even a moment. She let one slide down to rest breifly on his neck, and then on his sternum, so she could feel the weak rise and fall of his breathing.

His breathing occasionally stuttered, and when it did his whole body seemed to tense and convulse slightly.

Only being able to watch was like torture, but she couldn't leave his side. She brushed her knuckles across his cheek, hoping that at the very least, if he could feel it, he would know she was with him.

She whimpered as she felt his body tense once again, under her hand his chest sunk and jaw tightened. This one lasted for longer than the rest, he didn't breathe for long enough that his lips began to turn a terrible shade of dark blue at the edges. Finally he wheezed and gasped, but quickly began to gag.

(Y/n) acted just as quickly and pulled him onto his side, she ran to the kitchen and grabbed the washing up bowl from the sink and a teatowel from the side.

In moments she was back beside him, already a bead of vomit dripped from the corner of his mouth, but she placed the washing up bowl quickly enough to collect the main bulk of what soon came. She held onto his arm, pressing her fingertips into it. She squeezed her eyes shut, and tried not to listen to sound of bile swilling into the bowl.

When she was sure she heard no more, and the gagging had stopped, she opened her eyes, which still stung with tears and she took the bowl away. The foul, hot and sour smell causing her to wrinkle her nose as she carried it away, tipping it down the toilet and flushing it away. She abandoned the bowl in the bathtub and decided to deal with that later.

Finally she wiped his mouth with the cloth she had brought. She took a deep and shakey breath as she watched him, finally he seemed still again. She once again pushed his hair from his face, so she could see him. He was still palid and she looked over him with great trepidation.

She looked back down at the mark, asmear with blood even more so than previously.

She pulled herself away once again and found some gauze and tissue, which she used to very carefully mop up the blood that trickled down his wrist and fingers. She managed as much of it as she could clean away, as thick and sticky as it had become, and with shaky hand and tears again running down her face, hitched breath too, she wrapped and fastened the gauze around it.

She didn't want to see it. It was awful to look at. Even to know it was there sent her stomach into knots.

Eventually she collected herself and decided that the worst was over. She was tired and nervous and terrified still, but she couldn't just sit in the hall all night, hoping something would happen. She carefully moved him to the livingroom, where she pulled blankets and cushions off of the sofas for bedding.

She lifted his head gently and placed a cushion underneath it, and lay beside him. She clasped his hand between hers, holding it close to her she wanted to be close to him. So that's where she stayed, curled up, her head lightly placed on his shoulder, listening to his heart beating slowly, her lip quivering and her eyes red and wet. As she looked at him, pulling a thin blanket over them both, she didn't know what to do. Her brain was panicked and fogged and unable to focus on anything but him.

He looked tranquil, so still. There was something death like about it, waxy and cold, but quiet and peaceful.

She tried desperately to stay awake, tracing lines on his palm, feeling his chest fall and rise over and over, holding her own breath to hear his short rasping ones. But her eyes gave in and closed, soothing themselves into sleep.

When Reg's eyes flickered open, he felt the warmth of her body as she was pressed up to him, he felt the weight of her resting on his shoulder and he was glad. He was exhausted, he let his head roll to the side, toward hers. He felt his hand in hers, and gently squeezed it, taking a deep breath.

(Y/n) opened her eyes in a flash as she felt it, she looked up at him and saw a soft dusting of pink back on his face, and his hand was no longer cold and clammy. She gasped, and pressed a palm once again to his cheek, it was warm and his eyes were just open. She flung her arms around his neck.

"Reggie!" She spoke breathlessly, scrunching her eyes closed and pressing her face to his collar. "I thought you were dead." She trembled as she let herself cry. Reg put his arms around her, placing a hand on the back of her head and croaked.

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head.

"Don't scare me- Don't ever scare me like that again." She mumbled.

"I didn't want to, I had no choice but to let them make the mark- I didn't know who to go to."

He tried to explain, his voice hoarse and scratchy. He sat up, still holding onto her, unwilling to disentangle from her. "I'm sorry." He pulled back just a little, enough to kiss her cheek and press his forehead to her shoulder.

He lifted his head after a moment and pulled her back into him.

They were best friends, extremely familar but not usually like this, but the moment called for it. Closeness and contact was what they needed.

"What are you gonna do?" She asked quietly.

"I don't know." He replied, truthfully scared of her reaction. "Whatever I have to. There's no turning back now."

[simsadventures]

Yours Forever

Summary: You enjoy the summer with your boyfriend, Captain America, who, sometimes, need assurance that you’ll love him no matter what

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, smut (MUST BE 18+ TO READ THE PART BETWEEN WARNINGS!, the warnings will be before and after the smut, so that those who aren’t comfortable reading, won’t have to), semi-public sex, jealousy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2402

A/N: This piece was written for the loveliest @the-soulofdevil​, who requested a one-shot for my 500 Followers Celebration, and her song of choice was either Love or Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey, and I kinda combined the two of them (I got carried away, I’m so sorry if it isn’t what you expected love). Also this is my first Steve fic, so be gentle with me. Hope you’ll enjoy it guys.

Masterlist

Steve has been home from a mission for about a week, and you couldn’t get enough of him. It was mid-July, so you could spend most of your time outside, either beside the pool at the compound, or just wandering through the streets of New York, and especially Brooklyn.

Steve loved to show you around his once own neighbourhood, his stories revolving mainly around places where he got beaten up. You would always caress his cheek, letting him know that you were there and that even if he got shrunken back, you’d still want him and kick the asses of those guys.

Steve was always a little worried, that most women wanted him for his looks, once he got enhanced, and that nobody really saw through it. It was a huge struggle at the beginning of your relationship, because whenever you’d compliment his physique, he would always go into this defensive state of mind, and would be pissed for pretty much the rest of the day. You didn’t understand it, because, sure, his body was a blessing and you couldn’t look at it without your knees going a little soft, but other than that, you loved Steve for who he was, and not for what he looked like.

It was only when you found out what the problem was that you sat him down and talked sense into him. It was that night that you and Steve made love for the first time. Until then, you always fucked, but that night was a breakthrough in your relationship, and something shifted to the better. There were still moments when you had to remind Steve of why you actually loved him, and today was one of those days.

You were in front of the compound, being too lazy to actually get up and leave the comfort of what you now called home. Although you weren’t part of the team and were actually a nurse, Steve insisted that you were most protected there, that even if he wasn’t around, there were still other people who could take care of you, and there was also FRIDAY. You tried to tell him that everyone knew where the compound was, even the bad guys and that you were much safer in your old apartment, but Steve wouldn’t have it. He was probably the most stubborn man you’ve ever met.

You were laying by the pool, a big part of the team surrounding you, enjoying the free day they had. Earth didn’t need its saviours for a while, and they all couldn’t get enough of the summer in the city. You were in your bikini, absorbing as much of vitamin D as you could, trying to store in for autumn and winter, where you knew you’d need it. You just hoped it would work. Bucky was sitting behind you, chatting with you, both of you completely relaxed. You laughed at one of his jokes, throwing your head back. The guy was cheesy as hell, but his heart was golden, and you were glad Steve had him back in his life.

After a while, you looked up, your hand shading the sun from burning your eyes out of your head, looking for Steve. You could see him standing by the nearest wall, shadow on his face, both literal and metaphorical. You frowned a little and called his name to get his attention. You only got a wave of a hand as an answer, and you thought it was even odder. You knew he was excited to see you on your new bikini, white with golden circles all over it and with little gold beads on the straps. But he seemed to not care about your attire at all.

You excused yourself to Bucky, who just cocked his eyebrow, looking at his best friend. “Go easy on him, Y/N. I think he’s jealous that you’ve been talking to me the whole time.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, James.” He just made a gesture like you-wait-and-see, and let you go discover what was bugging Steve.

The closer you were getting, the more you noticed how rigid his whole body was. He was standing there like a sculpture, moving and perfect, with a very serious face. He was beautiful, just in his blue swim trunks reaching only his mid-thigh. But you couldn’t enjoy the sight too much, because he’s pissed off, and maybe sad face wasn’t fitting the image.

“What is it, baby?” You asked meekly when you reached him and tried to touch him but almost jumped away from your touch, the wrinkle on your forehead only deepening.

“Nothing, go back to having fun.” He mumbled, now pouting like a little child. Was it possible that he was jealous, just like Bucky said?

“But I’m not having that much fun when you’re not around.” You stepped closer to him, but this time keeping your hands to yourself, although it took all your willpower to do so.

“Yeah, you and Buck looked like you were having a terrible time, laughing like crazy there.”

You sighed, and even though he wanted to protest, you flung your arms around his neck and made him look at you that way. “Are you really jealous of your best friend, Steve?”

He closed his eyes, and you could see there was a fight behind his eyelids. One side won, the better one for you, and he let his hands grip your hips.

“It’s just that… I don’t know. Bucky has always been the one getting all the girls, and if there were two of them, they still wanted him and never me. And I’m just worried that you’ll see that he is the better man and leave me.” He whispered the last part of the sentence because tears were forming in his eyes. Your poor shy boy from Brooklyn.

“Baby, look at me, please,” you pleaded gently, and Steve obediently opened his eyes. “I love you with all my heart. Yeah, I was laughing with Bucky, but that’s about it. I laugh with you, I cry with you, I fall asleep with you, and so much more. And I’d do all that if you were the skinny boy again, because sure, the body of yours has its advantages, especially in particular area, but other than that? I care about what inside, and you’re the best guy.

I don’t care about your looks if we’re thirty, or two hundred. I’ll love you no matter what Steve. When we’re both old and wrinkly, I’ll love just as much as I love you right now, and maybe a little more, because you’ll have put up with me for ages by then.”

Steve was looking at you intently, drinking in everything you said. He couldn’t believe his own luck to have someone like you beside him. He knew it was stupid of him to be jealous, but sometimes, he just couldn’t help himself. Just like he couldn’t help himself now, finally seeing through his sadness and fear of losing you, and seeing what you were wearing.

“What areas are we talking about?” He said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk playing on his lips.

You had to laugh at that. “That’s the only thing you heard, you perv?” He wiggled his brows, and you just shook your head. He was in a better mood, and that was the goal. He leaned down to be on your level, his hands flying to your head and he kissed you with so much passion that you thought you’d faint right there. From the shy boy standing in front of you just second ago, he transformed into this dominant man, ready to devour you and show you who you belonged to. And you loved both versions equally, even if each of them with a different bodily part.

You let him take what was rightfully his, putting no obstacles in his way. You opened your mouth willingly, letting him explore it with his tongue. When he felt you were running out of your breath, he moved to give your neck the same attention he gave to your mouth. You were standing impossible close to each other, and you could feel his member pushing against your leg, getting some sort of friction.

Warning: smut ahead

You moaned softly, which only spurred Steve forward. He loved hearing the little noises coming out of your mouth, and he wanted to hear more. You, on the other hand, was very much aware of the environment in which you still were, his team-mates all around you, and because a lot of them were super-humans, you were pretty sure they could hear your every ragged breath.

Steve didn’t understand why you were pushing against his shoulder and wanted to continue with the activity at hand, but you pushed a little harder this time, calling his name as well.

“What? I’m having fun, sweetheart!” He said with a small pout which you couldn’t help but tried and kissed it away.

“So am I, Steve, but your buddies are all over the place and not for nothing, but I don’t need all of them seeing my bare ass, or worse.” Steve seemed to have thought about it for a second before he picked you up as if you weighted nothing, threw you over his shoulder and marched towards the door leading inside.

When he felt like you were far enough from the prying eyes, he let you stand up on your own. You looked around, seeing you were still in a very much public place, in a hallway. It was not the main hallway people would use when leaving the pool, but still.

“Can’t we go to our room?” You squeaked, but Steve wasn’t listening anymore. He was pushing the top of your bikini away, revealing your boobs. He growled at the sight of them, your nipples standing erect from the kissing session you and Steve had mere seconds ago. He didn’t waste any time, and sucked on one of them, while his fingers played and tugged on the other one. You involuntarily arched up against his touch, wanted more, even if you wanted it in the confines of your own private room.

Steve could feel the change in your body, the will to fight him about the place leaving your body, being replaced by sheer lust. That was the exact moment Steve waited on. He released your nipple with a pop and looked at you through his lust-hooded eyes. He smirked at you, and you knew what was coming, and suddenly you couldn’t give to fucks about someone finding you two. You just needed him, and he seemed to be as eager as you were.

He released his painfully hard cock from his shorts, rubbing it against your leg, as he kissed you again, conveying all of his emotions in this kiss. You could feel the love he was pouring into it, and you were drunk on it. He pulled only to put his forehead against yours. “I love you so much, Y/N. And I always will, I promise. Even if we’re now young and in love and it might seem like a plain promise, but I mean what I say. And anyhow, I’m basically an ancient guy now, so…” he trailed off, and you smiled up at him.

You gently grabbed his cock, rubbing your hand up and down his length, and from the hisses and silent curses falling from Steve’s lips, you assumed he enjoyed what you were doing. But you still wanted more. You pushed your panties away, not wanting to waste time pulling them down, and put your legs a little wider apart, for Steve to have enough room to operate.

Steve obviously got the message, as he grabbed your right leg and locked his arm under your knee, opening you even more. Then it was just easy for him to slide home. You were so wet, not only from the physical touch but also from all the confessions, that he didn’t need to prepare you at all.

He slid in with one thrust, revelling at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. No matter how many times you two slept together, he would always be little too large for you, and you’d still need a little time to adjust to his magnificent size. Steve waited patiently, until your hips bucked against his, giving him a sign that you were ready for all he had to give to you.

Steve didn’t hesitate and started thrusting into you mercilessly, both from his own horniness and from the possibility someone could walk in on the two of you.

He knew exactly how to make you undone in minutes. All he had to do was thrust deep enough to hit your sweet spot, and massage your little bundle of nerves, and you’d be gone in no time. For him, it was just the feeling of your velvety walls when you came that always did it for him. He always had to make sure you came before him, so he could marvel at the sight of you, in the highest state of pleasure possible.

And it really took him not even 10 minutes, before you were silently whispering his name, chanting it like a prayer, your face contorting in ecstasy. That was all it took for him to feel the wave of pleasure rolling over him so hard his toes curled and he gave a few sloppy thrusts before he was coming deep inside your pussy. He was breathing hard into your neck, both of you sweaty and sticky from the activity and the humidity in the hallway.

Warning ending

You could hear voices coming from the other hallway, and you snuggled a little closer to Steve as if to shield yourself from any visitors.

“You two done? We thought we’d play water polo, but we’re missing two players.” Bucky hollered at you, and your cheeks were suddenly burning, and you knew they were bright red.

Steve just laughed and kissed the top of your head. “Yeah, give us a sec, and we’re with you.”

“Sure, just be so kind and have a shower first.” You could hear the smirk on Bucky’s face, and you rolled your eyes.

“Asshole,” you muttered, earning a chuckle from Steve and a loud Ouch from Bucky. Damn them and their enhanced hearing.

Marvel Taglist

@waiting4inspiration​ @voltage-my2dlove​ @kneel-begyourpardon​

Forever Tags:

@eileenalone​ @sasbb23​ @p8tn0lish​ @coffeebooksandfandom​

If you’d like to be tagged comment/message/send an ask. If you like the story, please reblog :) any comments are appreciated, even the critical ones. Always a space to get better, so let me know what you guys think.

[ao3feed-merlin]

The Requests of Percival Galois

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3jVbCoi

by Uniasus

Merlin knew he couldn't live in Camelot forever. It wouldn't be fair, and it wouldn't be kind. But he'd stay until Gwen died. He promised.

Words: 2402, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 8 of Add A Seat To The Table

Fandoms: Merlin (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: F/M

Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Percival

Relationships: Gwen/Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Percival (Merlin)

Additional Tags: King Merlin - Freeform, Post Camlann, Light Angst, Immortal Merlin (Merlin), expected character deaths, I mean, Merlin is immortal while they're not

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3jVbCoi

[random-imagines-blog]

Pay For It (Ron Weasley x Reader)

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2402 Summary: You’re Ron’s girlfriend and he brings you to the Burrow for the first time. Unfortunately, the other Weasleys are determined to interrupt your time together.

Time would only tell if your relationship with Ron Weasley was going to last, but you sure hoped that it would. After he had asked you to the Yule Ball, a last minute ask since clearly he and Harry were going around asking anyone they could, you two surprisingly hit it off.  The reason that it was shocking, not just to you and to him but to most of the people who knew both of you, was because he was a bit of a foolish Gryffindor while you were a shy Slytherin. He hadn’t know that you were in the Snake house when he asked, since you were in muggle attire, studying in the library, but he hadn’t backed out of the date, even when the two of you were teased mercilessly. You showed up to the Yule Ball wearing Gryffindor red to support your date, while he wore - well, clothes that smelt like his aunt apparently, and you two managed to have a great time. Fast forward past the sitting together every lunch, study sessions with Hermione (who never seemed to like you), watching him and Harry play Wizards chess (he didn’t trust you but was friendly enough), and you were preparing to go to the Burrow for the very first time.

“Are you sure you know where you are going, dear?” Your mother asked, putting a spell on your suitcase so it wouldn’t be as heavy.

“And that you’ll send an owl when you get there safe and sound?” Your father said, pulling your coat around your shoulders despite the Summer heat.

“Yes, and yes,” You nodded, feeling thankful that you had such loving parents despite the fact that they were a bit overbearing. You were fourteen and off to spend some time at your first boyfriend’s house. You were lucky they were letting you go at all. You had to assure them of the fact that Ron had a large family, and you two were unlikely to be alone at any given point, let alone have the time to do anything deemed inappropriate. “I promise that I’ll be alright, besides, you said yourself that the Weasleys are good people,” You reminded them.

Your mother was a healer at St Mungoes, while your father was manager at Flourish and Blotts. Despite the fact that they both came from a family of Slytherins, they didn’t care about status and all of that, and passed it onto you. That’s why they didn’t mind that you were dating a Gryffindor, even one from a family labeled as ‘blood-traitors’, whatever that meant.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Your mother sighed, handing your luggage to you. “Remember to say the name very clearly, you don’t want to end up in the wrong place.”

“I’m not nine anymore, mum, you don’t have to worry.” You sighed, took your bag, and stepped into the large fireplace. Your father tilted the pot with the Floo Powder, and you took a heaping handful. Making sure your bag was secure, you said, “The Burrow,” confidently, then dropped the powder onto the ground. You felt a warm rush as the green flames surrounded you, but the good feeling was gone when you emerged from a smaller fireplace, nearly hitting your head against the mantle.

“There y/n is!” One of the twins grabbed your arm before you could come to your senses, and pulled you out. The other started to beat the soot off of you, though it felt like an assault.

“Ronnikins, your lover is here!” The other called up.

“A Slytherin in our own home! Should we bring out the fine china, mum?”

“Uh oh, there’s a Gryffindor scarf on the couch, better get it out of the way before y/n burns it!”

“Did you remember to wear your green underwear today Fred, just in case?”

“Oh, just piss off,” Ron, gangly with a red face said, pushing between his brothers to greet you with an embarrassed look. You slowly stepped out of the fireplace with your bag in your hands and set it down next to you. “You alright, y/n?”

“I’m fine,” You said, brushing the little bit of soot off your jacket and hurriedly took it off. It was warm inside of the house, and you certainly didn’t need it. Ron understood - from what he told you about his family, he knew what it was like to have an overbearing mother. You were looking forward to meeting her very much. “Is there somewhere that I should put my bag, and my coat?”

“Who knew Slytherin knew manners?” One twin whispered to the other.

“Who knew that a set of twins could only have one personality trait between them?” You shot back to them, getting a bit annoyed with their jokes, though you knew that it was all in jest. One of them approached you and stuck his finger in your face, and you mimed biting it off, making him laugh and pick up your bag.

“You’re alright, y/l/n.” He backed up a few steps in the direction of the hazardous-looking staircase. “I’ll take care of this. Come on Ron, be a gentleman, take the coat!”

Ron tugged the coat out of your grip, his face growing more and more red by the minute. You smiled, finding him adorable, as always. “Thank you, Ron,” You let him take it and followed him away from the twins towards a cupboard by the front door. You exhaled, excited about getting a moment alone with him so you could finally wrap your arms around him and give him the big smooch you’ve been holding in since leaving the train from Hogwarts. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be happening.

“I’ve got the post, Ronald,” A prissy-looking man that seemed somewhat familiar to you said, coming in through the door. “Who is this?” He looked at you with both disdain and curiosity, which was an odd mix. You recognized him though, from Hogwarts. Percy Weasley. You gave him the same look back, tilting your head in his direction.

“Y/N Y/L/N, my girlfriend,” Ron muttered. You didn’t take offense to his tone, you knew that he was closer to some of his brothers than others.

“Who would have though that Ron would be the first to bring a girl home, aye?” A tall young man with long hair and an earring said, coming in through the door. “I’m Bill, the oldest.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” You said with a smile, attempting to make a good first impression. At least they didn’t hear all of the things that the twins had to say. That wouldn’t have been a great start. “I think Ron was about to show me the grounds.”

“Yeah, I was going to show her the yard,” Ron corrected. Grounds was an overstatement - though they did have a large yard, it wasn’t fit to be called grounds.

“Couple gnomes out there you should try to take care of,” Bill said, walking past the three of you to get into the kitchen. “Charlie’s already started.”

“Yes, go and put some work in Ronald, it won’t hurt you.” Percy chided in, going after his brother. You watched as your boyfriend made a face behind his back, and snickered behind his hand.

“Yes, Ronald, let’s go deal with these gnomes,” You teased, slightly. Ron seemed to grow even more red, which you found to be absolutely adorable, and followed him outside. It was a beautiful sunny day, a couple clouds in the sky, but barely a breeze. Doing anything more than walking was sure to work up a sweat.

“Finally, maybe we can have a minute alone,” Ron muttered, bringing you around the side of the house.

“Why are you trying to get me alone?” You asked, curiously. Neither of you had gone beyond kissing at this point, and you were comfortable with that. You were mature enough to realize that it was too soon to go further than that at this time.

“I’d like to snog my girlfriend without my brother’s interrupting,” Ron answered. You giggled at that, and backed up against the wall of The Burrow, ready for a good kiss. Ron, tall and gangly like all of his brothers, leaned down and his lips were just about to touch yours when-

“Oi! Stop making out and come help me toss these gnomes!” A voice echoed through the yard. Ron hung his head in exasperation, and you caught a glimpse of another redhead not too far away with a big grin on his face.

“I’ve never tossed a gnome before,” You bit your lip, thinking over the idea. Ron rolled his eyes and took a step back.

“Let’s toss some gnomes then,” He sighed, clearly not happy about his time with you being constantly interrupted. You smiled widely at him, kissed him on the cheek, then went over to see yet another brother. The red hair genes in this family were so damn strong.

“Hi, I’m y/n,” You introduced yourself, standing next to the older boy, looking at the weird little creatures that were in the garden.

“Charlie. I’ve heard all about you,” He said with a big grin.

“And I’ve heard about you! You’re the Dragon brother.” You were most excited to meet Charlie out of the two oldest siblings. He sounded the most interesting. Ron was grumbling under his breath as Charlie told you stories about the dragons he worked with while the two of you cleared the lawn of the pesky little gnomes.

“I know a place we can go, come on,” Ron offered you his hand once the yardwork was done. You said a goodbye to Charlie and took his hand and followed him away from the Burrow, to a little shed-looking structure on the corner of the grounds. “This is where we keep our brooms,” He explained. “We play a lot of Quidditch around here.”

“Of course you do. The flying bug seems to have missed Percy though. I can’t imagine him on a broom, unless it’s up his backside,” You joked. Ron got a good laugh out of that, and started to fiddle with the lock.

“At least we should have a minute alone-”

The door opened and another redhead emerged from the shed with a broom tucked under her arm. You were pleased to see Ginny, who you always rather liked. She definitely fit in with the boys in her family with how strong-minded she was.

“Why does the universe hate me?” Ron whined, making you nudge him in the ribs.

“‘Ello Ginny, you alright?” You asked.

“Hi y/n! Harry brought his Firebolt so I thought I’d show him that it’s the rider who matters, not the broom. What are you doing out here?”

“Looking for a little privacy,” Ron mumbled, making you nudge him again.

“I’d get out of here then. Fred and George are joining us and will be here in a couple of minutes to get the brooms. I think the kitchen is free though, mum’s cleaning the bedrooms and dad had to pop into the Ministry,” Ginny advised.

“Thanks for the tip,” You winked. You took Ron’s hand again and walked towards the house, taking charge since your boyfriend’s mood was turning sour quickly.

“With my luck, dad’s going to floo in the second we get in there,” Ron said, slowly opening the door to the kitchen and peered inside. The coast was clear, so he brought you inside and consulted the clock, which to his pleasure did indeed say that Arthur was at work.

“And your luck is changing,” You said, draping your arms against his shoulders, clasping your hands behind his neck. “Because I think that we’re alone now.”

Ron’s lips finally brushed against yours. Tingles ran up and down your back as you realized how much you had missed this feeling. His arms wrapping you into a hug, the taste of breakfast still on his breath. This was your Ron, and you never wanted to let go. That was until there was the sound of a throat clearing.

Ron nearly jumped out of his skin at that, and pulled away from you and coughed awkwardly. “Oh, hi mum,” He said, making you blush. This was not how you wanted to meet the woman.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?” A pleasant female voice rang across the room. You turned to face her shyly, and saw exactly what you had expected to see. Molly Weasley looked just like you had imagined, though she was a little plumper. She had a kind face, a kind voice, a quirky sense of style - and most of all, she looked like a Weasley.

“I can introduce myself,” You said with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you Molly, I’m y/n. Thanks so much for inviting me to your home for the next couple of days.”

Clearly, she had been briefed by Fred and George over the fact that you were a Slytherin, because your politeness took her by surprise. But she covered that up with a big smile and held her arms open for a hug.

“I’m so happy to meet you! Oh, Ron has just told us all sorts of things,” She said, enveloping you in her arms. She smelled of lemon cleaning products, but without the harsh smell of chemicals. It was as delightful as the woman herself. “I was just about to start peeling some potatoes for a pie, would you care to help?”

“I’d love to!” You said, genuinely excited since you never got to work in the kitchen back home.

“And I’m the most unlucky guy in the world,” Ron pouted. The twins, who were walking behind him to get outside to play Quidditch, stopped and put their hands on his shoulders.

“Cheer up Ronnikins!” One of them said.

“This is what you get for bringing a Slytherin home.”

“Of course everyone’s going to be interested.”

“You’re just paying the price now.”

[marketresearchandanalysis]

Fleet Management Market Trends, Analysis, Demand and Global Industry Research Report, Region, and Segment Forecasts, 2016-2026

The Global Fleet Management Market report by Reports and Data is an all-encompassing study of the global Fleet Management market. The report serves as a prototype of the highly functional Fleet Management industry. Our market researchers’ panel has performed quantitative and qualitative assessments of the global Fleet Management market dynamics in a bid to forecast the global market growth over the forecast period. They have taken into consideration several factors, such as market penetration, pricing structure, product portfolios, end-user industries, and the key market growth drivers and constraints, to endow the readers with a sound understanding of the market. The report provides the reader with a panoramic view of the Fleet Management market, supported by key statistical data and industry-verified facts. Hence, it examines the size, share, and volume of the Fleet Management industry in the historical period to forecast the same valuations for the forecast period.

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The global Fleet Management market report comprehensively studies the present growth prospects and challenges for the key regions of the Fleet Management market. The report continues to evaluate the revenue shares of these regions over the forecast timeline. It further scrutinizes the year-on-year growth rate of these regions over the projected years. The leading regions encompassed in this report:

North America

Europe

Asia Pacific

Latin America

Middle East & Africa

Leading Players Profiled in the Report Include: Donlen Corporation, Omnitracs, Teletrac Navman, Automotive Rentals Inc., Japan Railways Group, American Airlines, FedEx, GPS Insight, Omnitracs, and Verizon Connect.

Market Segmentation by product type:

Solution

Service

Market Segmentation by application range:

Mobility Solutions

Service & Maintenance

Education & Research

Logistics Solutions

Government Bodies

Others

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Regional and country-wise market size estimation for the forecast period (2019-2027)

Pricing strategies of the regional market players

Demand & supply gap analysis

Competitive landscape analysis

Market share analysis of the top market players

Strategic recommendations for new market entrants

Company profiling of the leading market players

Brief summary of the key strategies, financial positions, and recent developments of the leading companies

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Historical Years: 2017-2018

Base Year: 2019

Estimated Year: 2027

Forecast Years: 2016-2026

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[benhuynh]

Houston TX Real Estate Market Update. Status: Active, Pending: December 1- 5, 2022. Single family: 2402 homes.

Link is always available upon request.

[specialbrewbutterbeer]

Golden Era/Marauders (MASTERLIST)

[∆] - Requested

[\] - Unfinished Series

She/Her Pronouns

They/Them Pronouns

He/Him Pronouns

TWC/WC - Total Word Count/Word Count

MAIN MASTERLIST

Regulus Black

More Than Just Nerves [TWC: 14,065] (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) [In which an arranged marriage becomes tricky] [Angst/Fluff]

∆ Runs In The Family (X) [WC: 6084] [In which Regulus struggles to come to terms with diverging from a legacy] [Angst/Fluff]

Wilting (X) [WC: 2384] [In which there is grieving for a dream that was dreamed of too late] [Angst]

Brother (X) [WC: 3638] [In which everyone survives the war, and the Black brothers are reunited after years apart] [Angst/Fluff]

Debts (X) [WC: 2902] [In which the Black family leave a path of grief and blame in their wake] [Angst]

∆ Please (X) [WC: 2329] [In which the Regulus must resist the temptations of young love and persuasion in the name of safety] [Angst]

Bad Influence (X) [WC: 786] [In which Regulus has a study partner who is easily bored and refuses to let him study] [Fluff]

Poison (Part 1) (Part 2) [TWC: 1081] [In which someone that once loved Regulus sees him in a new and ugly light] [Angst]

* The Marital Home [TWC: 12,034] (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) [In which a couple attempt to navigate their brand new domestic life together] [Angst/Fluff]

* ∆ Teenage Drama (X) [WC: 6873] [In which an encounter at a party between friends turns into what feels like a full-blown soap opera] [Angst/Fluff]

A Little Black Lie (X) [WC: 1672] [In which Regulus becomes a savior to a friend in unlikely circumstances]

Secret Keeper (X) [WC: 3004] [In which secrets are kept and taken to the grave] [Angst]

Making The Mark (X) [WC: 2402] [In which Regulus goes through with it, and suffers as a result] [Angst]

∆ First Love (X) [WC:5832][In which there is an arranged marriage and not everyone deals with it very well initially] [Angst/Fluff]

∆ Too Late Now (X) (Regulus x Reader x Platonic!Sirius) [WC:3302] [In which Sirius doesn't take the news very well] [Angst/Fluff]

∆ The Seeker (X) [WC:724][In which pranks get played and someone gets flustered] [Fluff]

Nightmares (X) [WC: 954] [In which someone confuses reality and dreams to the most awful effect] [Angst]

Sirius Black

Perfect And Pureblooded (X) [WC: 3742] [In which Sirius is unexpectedly receptive to his mother's demands]

∆ I'm Not In Love (X) [WC: 6441] [In which Sirius doesn't realise until it's far far too late] [Angst]

Escape (X) (Sirius x Reader/Regulus x Reader) [WC: 548] [In which someone battles their own mind and Sirius tries to make up for what had been and gone] [Angst]

Turning My Back [TWC:7322] (Part I) (Part II) (Part III) [In which being alone in the world is better than being betrayed] [Angst]

The Cigarette (X) [WC: 727] [In which there is a dirty little secret and some peace and quiet] [Fluff]

Too Sweet For Me (X) [In which Sirius takes his coffee black] [Fluff]

Remus Lupin

Moonsick (X) [WC: 2372] [In which Remus finally relents to the need to be taken care of occasionally] [Fluff]

Tom Riddle

Just Part Of The Plan (X) [WC: 2353] [In which someone unwittingly walks into a role on a stage that they never knew they stood on] [Angst]

Peter Pettigrew

Traitor (X) [WC:920] [In which someone's suspicions are confirmed] [Angst]

Fred Weasley

∆ Member of the Club (X) (Fred X Malfoy!Reader) [WC: 4240] [In which the Fred covertly dates a Malfoy and she turns up on his doorstep][Angst/Fluff]

George Weasley

∆ Running Away To Join The Circus (X) [WC: 5382] [In which conflict, loss and paperwork breeds reconnection][Angst/Fluff]

Draco Malfoy

Oliver Wood

Newt Scamander

Requests Page (X)