rjunhuang

[rjunhuang]

Tension

Pairing: Danny Rand x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of injuries

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: What happens when Iron Fist takes an interest in an undercover agent? (I’m so bad at summaries and Titles please forgive me)

A/N: This has been sitting incompleted in my drafts for like months and I finally got the energy and ideas to finish it. I feel accomplished.

It made sense that you and Danny never crossed paths. You were just a S.H.I.E.L.D agent and he was part of the superhero program. Even though you were similar in age, you didn’t attend the same school and you had no skills in common so you never saw each other during training.

You were born into being a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, growing up on the Helicarrier and training your entire life to be an undercover agent. You spent your days with different names and different personas, gathering intel and you were more skilled using weapons and gadgets than actual hand-to-hand combat, while he was parading around the city in a spandex suit.

You, of course, had heard of him but only by the name Iron Fist, and you had never seen him in person.

And it would have remained that way if you hadn’t gotten shot on your last mission. Even though it missed anything vital and the surgery had been a success, you were still told not to do anything that might agitate it for the next 3 months.

So, that was how you got transferred from the undercover agent assignments to team strategist department.

“But I don’t want to be in strategies!” You complained, stubbornly following Fury around the Helicarrier as he desperately tried to get away from you.

“Strategies is for boring people! Like Coulson!” You shouted ignoring Coulson’s offended ‘Hey!’, practically throwing a tantrum in the middle of the training room.

“And more importantly, you gave my assignment to that bitch, Lia?! I’ve been gathering contacts for that mission for around a year and you want me to just hand it over to that lazy piece of shit who would rub it in my face even if she never did anything for the mission?!”

That finally made Fury turn around to face you and you sighed in relief, hoping he would at least listen to you.

“Agent Coulson, make sure that every time (Y/N) swears, 50 bucks is cut down from this month’s pay check.”

You threw him a foul glare.

“You will be transferred to strategies in a week—”

“But I don’t want to—”

“Under the superhero programme—”

“Those pyjama freaks—?!”

“End. Of. Discussion.”

You glared at him so coldly, it could have frozen hell over. Your nails were digging painfully into the palm of your hand but you barely felt it through your anger.

You practically growled, pulling out a 50-dollar bill from your pocket and slamming it onto Coulson’s desk.

“MOTHER F—”

***

The first time you met a member of the team wasn’t one that you had expected. It was a month and a half into your recovery and you had written numerous mission reports on behalf of them and reset the programming of their training bots after each practice session but you still hadn’t met any of them.

The time you were taking to recover was driving you crazy. It made you feel weak. 2 months ago, you were in Barcelona, undercover as an underaged bartender for a mafia gang and now you were going to physiotherapy every week.

Since you were young and Fury didn’t want to take the change of you permanently injuring yourself, he was being very strict about what you could do, he basically confined you to a desk job for the next 2 months.

It was driving you mad.

So, one day when everyone was asleep, you snuck into the training area to practice shooting which you were sure had gone a little rusty since the accident. Nothing a little practice couldn’t help.

You picked up your favourite gun, smiling at the familiarity in your hand, loading it and clicking the safety off before pointing at the target and shooting.

The next thing you felt was excruciating pain. So painful that you were on the floor, pressing your forehead against the cold metal, wondering why this was happening to you.

The rebound of the gun had been too powerful for your arm to take. You felt your injury pull suddenly and you couldn’t think of anything other than the blinding pain as you cried on the floor. Feeling utterly helpless.

“Hello?”

You started, teary eyes getting wide at the sight of a blonde by the door. You had to wipe your eyes for your vision to focus, grunting in pain as you raised your arms again.

You recognized Iron Fist. You had been seeing footage of him and his team members for the last few weeks and writing mission reports about him but seeing him in person was a different feeling.

You hid your face, pulling your knees to your chest, hoping he would leave.

“I heard a gunshot.”

“Yeah,” Your voice cracked embarrassingly, “That was me.” 

“Everything alright?” He came closer to you, standing a foot away from you and you shook your head no.

In all honesty, you wanted to get off the floor and go back to bed, but your arm burned so painfully you were scared to move it again.

“Here, let me help.”

You froze, but still let him raise his hand towards you. You saw his palm light up before he pressed it to your shoulder and you whimpered, shuffling away from him but he continued to apply a gentle pressure.

Soon you felt the pain get better, it slowly reduced to a dull buzz.

“H-How did you do that?” You asked, turning to him with wide eyes and he chuckled, seeing the childish wonderment. You clearly had never seen him in person before even if he had seen you.

Danny noticed you the day he had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. You were returning from yet another mission and the soft blue dress you were wearing among armoured soldiers was hard to miss when he passed the debriefing room. Immediately, he stopped to peer inside.

The contrast between the soft summer dress and your cold, professional expressions sent a shiver down his spine. You looked so untouchable. However, he noticed the blush on your face when the agents complimented you and felt his heart flutter.

He had seen your road to recovery, he noticed you falling asleep at your desk every day, constantly doing work because you had nothing else to do and he wondered if it would be weird if he asked you to lunch sometime. For your sake, of course.

Looking at you curled up on the ground, he had wished he had done it sooner.

“You shouldn’t strain yourself before you’re ready.” He muttered, feeling tongue tied next to the girl he had been infatuated with from a distance.

You could only nod. This whole-time people had been telling you the same thing and you always retorted with confidence, saying that you were as good as ready to get back on the field. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought they were right.

“I’m Iron Fist.”

“(Y/N).”

“I know.” His answer came a little too fast and had you raising a brow. Danny wished he adorned a mask to cover the whole of his face like Spiderman when he felt his cheeks becoming warm, “You write our mission reports. I’m not creepy, I swear.”

You chuckled airily, turning back to the gun that was left on the ground and you pulled it back into your hand before clicking the safety back on before chucking it across the room.

“Thanks for helping me.” 

“I’m glad I was there to help.”

***

After your first meeting, you found him approaching you more often after training. At first it was just ‘hello’s and ‘goodbyes. Then he began asking about your day and you gave him mundane responses before you were forced to ask him how his day was.

Then he started coming early before his training with a cup of tea for you, though it was sometimes juice, sometimes hot cocoa.

Then he started staying late after training and you would give him a bottle of water and complain about him being sweaty.

It was an unlikely friendship but nonetheless, you got closer as the days passed by and once you did, it didn’t take long for you to meet the rest of the team. They kept you company and you grew fond of the rest of them; however, it wasn’t the same way that you felt with Iron Fist.

Your crush on Iron Fist snuck up on you when you were least expecting it but once you realized it you couldn’t stop yourself from falling hard and deep. Still, you continued to hang out with him, pushing down the butterflies whenever he smiled and stopping yourself from grinning too wide whenever you were around him.

You tried to keep your relationship platonic, not wanting to get caught up in it because it was unprofessional. You didn’t even know his identity and you didn’t want to find out. You were afraid that once he revealed that part of his life to you there was no going back on your love for him.

So, you stayed friends, good friends.

***

“So, it all blew up in her face? Huh, I should say I’m surprised but I’m really not.” You said, sighing when Fury handed you the mission file that you had been working on for a year before handing it off to another agent.

“You get to relieve her of her duties and start working again. Effective as of next week.”

You were grinning now. The doctor had given you the all clear a month ago and you had been waiting for a mission to be handed off to you but it had been a quiet month, with no need for undercover or even recon missions.

To get back the mission that you lost when you got shot seemed like the best one to start off again, and you thought your day couldn’t get any better but it seemed like you were having an incredibly good day.

As soon as you exited the room, there stood Iron Fist in all his glory and your excitement got better of you. You bolted right into his arms, catching him off guard with a hug.

“Woah, did something happen?” He asked curiously but still wrapped his arms around you to return the hug. You pulled away, flashing him the mission file in your hand and grinned brightly.

“I finally got cleared for a mission!”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you! I’m so excited! I have to go and prepare right away!”

“Wha—Right now?” He asked and you nodded frantically, “I’m off in about a week, lots to prepare before that.”

“Well, how long is it going to take?”

“Not sure, oooh, maybe I’ll get relocated someplace cool like Dubai or India or something.”

He didn’t seem to share your enthusiasm but just chuckled in a dejected sort of manner before nodding his head, “Maybe.”

***

“Partner? Fury, I don’t do partners. I am a single lady and would like to stay that way.”

He just sighed, used to your temper tantrums. Though he was honestly wishing he had a mute button on you. You were like the daughter he never wanted. Usually, he maintained a professional relationship with all the other agents but you were like the gem of the department.

Being one of the youngest and most capable of the agents was a reason for many of the older ones to fawn over you. I mean let’s be honest, a baby who can kick ass was adorable!

That always made you more outrageous than the other agents, letting yourself have the temper tantrums and choosing not to be a stiff, boring agent. You knew just how to push Fury to get what you wanted.

“The mission is to go to a socialite party and while you have the skills, you don’t have the contact.”

“That hasn’t stopped me before—”

“We need someone that has the last name to get you in. Besides, after last time, another agent looking after you wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

Your face fell and Fury knew he made a mistake in choosing his words. Your lip quivered slightly and he heard an agent tut disapprovingly at him and mentally sighed.

“That wasn’t my fault…” You said softly, your voice seemed thick and he knew one wrong move could possibly break the floodgate. He sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “I know that. But we just want you to be safe. Just in case something goes wrong again, so this time somebody can have your back.”

You nodded sadly, lips in a small pout and eyebrows furrowed. Somewhere in the background he heard another agent whispering to another that Fury was trying to make you cry and felt his eye twitch.

“No one blames you for what happened.”

You nodded wordlessly again, still frowning.

“Tell you what, because it’s your first mission back, you get a higher budget for it.” That was it. Your face brightened like the sun and you giggled childishly, sending him a mischievous smirk as you thanked him.

You disappeared before he could even scold you and Fury then heard the rest of the agents burst into laughter about how you managed to play him.

Again.

***

“Daniel Rand.” You mumbled, looking over the case file. Apparently, he would be your partner for today but it was odd that you never heard of him before. It took you a very short time going through the S.H.I.E.L.D. database to find his name.

‘Daniel Rand, a.k.a. Iron Fist.’

‘WHAT?!’

Daniel Rand? The blond aristocrat that looked like he was picked out of your wildest dreams. With a face that could break hearts and make knees weak, was the confidant and friend that you had been crushing on for weeks now?

Wow, he definitely had a face to match.

Without realizing, you had been staring at his picture for about 5 minutes, fawning over his sharp jaw and deep green eyes with a ridiculous love-sick smile on your face, with your heart fluttering in your chest.

‘God, please, like me.’ You said in your head. So far you had sort of a flirtationship going on with Iron Fist but you wondered if it was the same for Danny. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would intentionally lead you on, but now that you were seeing his face, you realized just how little you knew about him.

He probably had a life of his own and you took up only a sliver of it. Being an agent, you didn’t leave the Helicarrier very often, and you certainly didn’t have too many very friends. You never really realized how much you were missing until you got shot.

Iron Fist, well Daniel, filled the void you felt during your time off but it was also very possible that he didn’t feel the same way, that you were just someone he spent time with to get over his boredom.

Maybe tonight would be the time to change that.

The mission was supposed to take place today, so you woke up bright and early to finish up some things. Go over case files, do a weapon check and pick out your outfit. You were supposed to wear something that would catch people’s attention. And in the back of your head, you also wanted to blow Daniel’s mind right out of his skull.

Red seemed like it would make a statement. So would a bodycon, or maybe a long dress with a high slit. You wanted to go all out for your first mission in months. Maybe even get a few jaw drops.

Finally deciding on an outfit, you quickly texted Daniel.

‘Wear (F/C).’

***

“This guy is coming right?” You asked, bored. You had been ready for about 15 minutes now, looking like you were dripping diamonds and lounging comfortably in Fury’s seat, with your legs thrown over the armrest.

“He’ll be here any minute now.” Said Coulson, checking his phone.

You rolled your eyes, “Why do I feel like this is one of those movie moments where the girl comes down the stairs and the guy is just staring at her with a jaw drop. Or like when the bride walks down the aisle and the groom bursts into tears.”

You sighed, checking your watch again. 20 minutes.

“For someone making me wait this long, he better be so good looking that it makes me cry.”

“Well, I hope I don’t disappoint.”

The new voice certainly turned a few heads and there stood Daniel Rand. The pictures online really did him no justice. Sure, you didn’t cry, but your eyes definitely didn’t feel worthy to be looking something so pretty in the eye.

Before you could help it, a ‘wow’ slipped past your lips and he blushed, having heard you. Wow, he was cute inside and out. Unfortunately, Coulson had to come in where he wasn’t wanted and suggested a quick briefing which you had to agree to.

In the middle of the briefing, Coulson handed you a ring box and you raised a brow, “I’m a little young for you, don’t you think?”

He let out an irritated sigh but you noticed the tips of his ears turn red from embarrassment, “You’re posing as his fiancé. You need an engagement ring to match.”

“Shouldn’t he be getting on his knee then?” You joked, gaping at the size of the diamond for a second before slipping it on, completely missing the way Danny got redder at your teasing, “Wow, it suits me so well one would think I was made to be a socialite’s fiancé.”

Danny didn’t say anything and you brushed it off, putting him off as the shy but cute bookworm who would come through in a difficult situation. As soon as the thought came to mind, you facepalmed. All it took was one good looking guy to mess up your work habits.

“Well, come on honey, we have a party to get to.” You called out teasingly and handed him the keys to the car before strutting to the garages.

Coulson clapped him on the back with a small smirk on his face, “Good luck, honey.”

***

It didn’t take much effort to meet your contact in the party and you quickly left Danny’s side to discreetly to get any information he could pass to you. You quietly chatted with the contact.

Behind you, you vaguely heard a bunch of girls flock around him, giggling shrilly and trying to flirt with him. You resisted rolling your eyes. You had on an engagement ring but Danny’s finger was still bare and even though he might have announced being taken to them, apparently it was necessary for a ring to show his commitment. Something told you that even if he got it tattooed on his forehead, people would still try to flirt with him.

He just had one of those faces. Those faces that made people lose all reason. I mean, you’re slightly annoyed at the girls that have no moral and are shamelessly throwing themselves at him. But really, can you blame them?

Danny was gorgeous. He looked like a Greek Adonis that was sent down from the heavens to grace your eyes. Honestly, you couldn’t take your eyes off him while the two of you were driving down to the party.

Seeing them get handsy was more irritating than It usually would be. As annoying as it was to see these women through all their morals out the window and try and get a taken man to reciprocate their advances, it was more annoying to see them gawk over the guy you were crushing on.

A part of you wanted to just leave him in the car and not have anybody look at him.

But to keep your crush a secret, you maintained your distance from him, talking to the contact in a mixture of different languages so no one would be able to understand. Once you were done, you opted for getting a drink until you saw the pleading look on his face and almost felt bad.

So, you sauntered over to him, cutting right through the throng of girls, disgusted to see that some of them had wedding rings on, right to Danny’s side, snaking an arm around his waist and placing your hand underneath on his chest, giving him a sweet smile.

The shiny engagement ring on your finger caught their attention and they frowned, reminded that they were allowed to look, but not to touch.

“I hope you didn’t miss me too much.” You said, syrupy sweet and loud enough for the girls to hear before turning to them with a charming smile, “I hope my fiancé wasn’t too short with you girls today, he’s very stressed lately, with the wedding planning and all.”

Their faces fell further when you leaned into him and they could all recognize the possessive glint in your eyes. A look that said, I saw you trying to get your hands on something that was mine, you vultures.

The left you two quickly after that, resorting to go gossip in some corner. You wondered if they were snivelling about you but then realized that you shouldn’t be too cocky.

Instead, you turned your unamused gaze to your ‘fiancé’, pulling away from him with a frown.

“I’m assuming that you haven’t come here to flirt with someone else’s wife.”

“I wasn’t flirting though…” He replied innocently and you pursed your lips, resisting the urge to scowl at him. Instead, you just sighed and turned away from him, keeping an eye on the rest of the guests.

If what you were told is true, then someone is going to attempt an assassination on your contact and it was your job to protect him. However, you were distracted once more when he placed a hand on your waist.

You meant to turn around and ask him what he was doing but his grip was strong and he then pressed his lips to your ear. You froze, neck getting uncomfortably hot.

“At the entrance to the foyer.” He mumbled, looking into the mirror that was facing the entrance. Sure, enough you saw it too, the glint that came from the shadows. Someone was there.

The two of you still managed to stay inconspicuous, pretending like you were a couple in love. You turned to him with a smirk, hand going to your thigh where a gun was holstered.

“What do you say about getting out of here?”

With a hand around your waist, he led you to the other end of the room. Just as you expected, a waiter came up to you, trying to guide you elsewhere and you realized that both exits were covered. Grinning up at him, you asked him where the restroom was, giggling in a way that suggested something and he showed you up to the staircase to a hallway. 

Some of the older couples gave you knowing smiles while some of them passed disgusted glances as you made your way to the bathroom that for some reason had a couch in it. Damn, rich people.

You pulled up a schematic of the house, along with security cameras and looked figured out that each one of the exits were covered. Quickly making a plan with Danny, the two of you were about to exit again when you stopped him

You reached up and raked your fingers through his hair, dishevelling it a little before messing up his collar and slightly untucking his shirt. Taking a step back to admire your handiwork, you stopped for a second.

Something was missing.

It quickly occurred to you and you used your thumb to ruin your lipstick a little before smearing it at the base of his neck, “That should be convincing enough. Don’t you think?”

You didn’t give him a moment to answer, not that he even could, with you so close that he could smell your perfume and the scent made him feel dizzy. You pulled away to mess up your own hair and dress.

“How do I look?”

“Dishevelled.”

“Excellent.”

***

��Mission successful, assassination attempt was unsuccessful, contact is safe and being placed into witness protection, assassinators are in custody for questioning. Report 291220. Agent 290803. Phase Beta successful.” You reported into the com set.

Danny was quiet beside you, choosing to pay attention to the road while you deactivated your gadgets for the night. A quick glance from the corner of your eyes made your heart speed up just a little. He was doing that thing where he drove with just one arm.

“You know…” You started, clicking the safety on your gun, avoiding his eyes, “We don’t have to go back to HQ right now? We can get some dinner or something? In the mood for a veggie burger?”

“Is this meant to be platonic?”

“It’s meant to be a date.” You commented. His jaw tightened slightly and you raised a brow at him, did you really make him so uncomfortable?

“I thought you were in a relationship.”

“What?”

“Iron Fist. You like him, don’t you?”

An amused chuckle left you. Of course. He didn’t know you were aware of his secret. Resisting the urge to laugh at him, you shot him a smirk, leaning against your arm.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Danny’s hands tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. He didn’t look at you, instead staring at the road with a steely gaze and for a second you wondered if you shouldn’t have pushed him.

“It’s a little hypocritical of you to nag me for not being loyal in a fake engagement and then going behind Iron Fist’s back, don’t you think?”

His voice was tight and he was gritting his teeth as he talked to you. You sighed, not wanting to upset him, “Not when you’re the same person.”

He jerked.

“Woah! Drive straight dude!”

“You knew?”

You snorted, “Pretty much, yeah. And since when are we in a relationship? I don’t remember you ever asking me out?”

His cheeks coloured, embarrassed and he looked away from your gaze, “I was planning to.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You continued in a comfortable silence while he drove. You weren’t really paying attention to where he was driving, choosing to look at him with a small smile. He really was beautiful. Judging by his red ears, he was well aware of your staring.

Eventually, he pulled into a parking space and you were mildly surprised to see he had driven you to a McDonalds. You grinned at him and he returned the smile, getting out of the car to open your door before taking your hand.

“You owe me a date.”

You sent him a soft smile, curling your finger underneath his chin before pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He returned it immediately, slightly pushing you onto the car door and gripping your hips. You pulled away, giggling when you realized some of your lipstick was now staining his.

Chuckling, you leaned up until your lips were brushing against his ear, “Hey genius, you still haven’t asked me out yet.”

Forever Taglist: @simonsbluee

USM Taglist: @imcarolinashannon

[rjunhuang]

also, since i am currently writing for harry potter, i want to make it clear that i do not support jk rowling! as a genderqueer person myself, you will not catch me liking any transphobe. i've never given that terf a dime and never will.

[rjunhuang]

care ✰ george weasley, fred weasley

pairing: george weasley x reader, fred weasley x reader

summary: when banter and boredom leaves to love confessions, you're painfully forced to reject george for his own good. after all, he can't know that you love his twin brother just as much.

warnings: lowercase intended. implied fem reader. george centric. the twins & reader are best friends. bittersweet ending. love triangle? slightly infuriating to read. angst, hurt. dramatic corny dialouge. mentions of kissing.

note: i don't usually like to write this much but i had an epiphany. sorry if the writing progressively gets shittier. anyways i'm weasley twins girlie till i die — i could genuinely never pick a fave lol.

divider by enchanthings | comments & reblogs are appreciated! <3

george weasley was always a hell of a flirt. he could charm a brick wall if he wanted to. it was simply the way he was programmed — at least, you'd always thought his coquetries were mere acts of adding flavour to a conversation during all your years of knowing him. he wasn't actually trying to make advances, only just spicing up his own personality. it was all part of the weasley charisma. 

george thought he'd been making his feelings abundantly clear. your shared longing yet understanding looks. your quiet moments together where he'd keep a comforting arm wrapped around you. if it wasn't so obvious, why were there romantic speculations on the two of you? sure, in a school full of hormonal teenagers away from home, even the slightest interaction could brew gossip, but still! enough was enough, george had thought. if he had to be upfront about his love for you — he'd start now. 

"i feel like you've read that before. am i wrong, or is this your second go at it?" he made himself comfortable as he slumped down on the chair opposite to you in the castle's library. despite your intense focus on the thick book in your palms, he used his chin to give a nod towards it.

your eyes don't peel away from the page, running through the inked lines like they're fast paced lyrics in a karaoke booth. you can tell it's one of the ginger twins, judging by the voice and their tendency to disrupt your moments of peace. "third, actually." you corrected, despite your engrossed demeanour that made it look like it was your first read. 

he stifled a laugh, his eyes sparkling with genuine amusement. your rivetted state was a humourous sight for him. he leaned back in his chair, regarding you with a new respect. "fascinating." he drawled, pretending to look at the pages.

obviously, you saw through his little charade. the twins were good enough friends to care about your interests, but books with never their forte. too much engagement indicated they were up to no good. you looked up from your book to frown over at him. so it was george you were speaking to. "and why are you here?" the book, which you had been leaning against the edge of the table and your lap, was now placed on the table in front of you. "where's the other devil?" you were referring to fred, of course. 

george chuckled at your question, the sound soft and amused. "oh, don't worry. fred's off somewhere plotting some other mischief. we don't always have to be glued at the hip." he reached out, picking up a stray quill someone had carelessly left behind and idly twirled it between his fingers. "can't a bloke just come visit the library to enjoy the atmosphere?" he asked, his tone oozing innocence.

you raised an eyebrow suspiciously, watching his nonchalant manner. "right. hiding in plain sight from filch, is it? or scheming something new?" you countered, hoping to hit bullseye. "you're never here unless it's for a prank."

george feigned offence at your accusation, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically. "me? scheming? no, never." his expression remained pure, but his eyes betrayed a hint of mischief. he leaned on the desk with his elbows, his gaze fixed on you. "maybe i just came to enjoy the view. and i don't mean the dusty old books."

you snorted dryly, clearly unamused by his blatant flirtation. you looked back down onto your book, resuming your reading. though, it was hard to focus when george was across, staring like you were a moving portrait of the mona lisa. george noticed your attempt to refocus, but he wasn't ready to give up that easily. he enjoyed the challenge, your unresponsiveness only fueling his determination. 

"you know," he begun, twirling the quill in his fingers again, "books are all well and good, but they don't respond. they don't talk back." he tapped the quill against the table, the sound barely above a whisper.

"are you bored, george?" you asked, lifting your head back up again. your tone was sharp, playfully irritated by his interruptions.

george met your honed tone with a lazy grin, unfazed by your annoyance. he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, all casual charm. "maybe a bit," he confessed, his tone unapologetic. "reading's not my thing. i prefer a bit more — action." his gaze flicked down your form, then back up to meet your eyes, not even trying to hide his interest anymore.

you took a moment to process his words. george and fred weren't new to flirting with you, but this, especially coming from the younger twin, was too upfront. you looked around them — if there were any spectators, you'd assume he's completing a dare. when you found no one, except a few academics preoccupied in their textbooks, you looked back at george. "are you on amortentia?" 

george's eyes widened at your question, genuinely surprised. "merlin's beard, no," he chuckled. "if i were on that love potion, i'd be confessing my 'undying' love for some broomstick or something." he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "no, i assure you, i'm completely in control of my own thoughts here. and what i'm thinking right now is, you're really bloody difficult."

"difficult?" you repeated, almost laughing. you smirked, "and why do you say that?"

george's smirk matched yours, though his eyes held a hint of something almost like curiosity. "well," he started, his tone still casual, "for one, most girls would've been swooning by now." he lifted a hand, counting off on his fingers. "you've been sarcastic, ignored me, insulted me, and now you're laughing at me. that's pretty difficult, wouldn't you say?"

"i'm sorry," you started, placing a hand on your chest and batting your eyelashes, "you want me to swoon? i didn't know that's what you wanted. you should've just said so." you ironically went on with a ditzy charade.

george couldn't help but laugh, his eyes lighting up with genuine mirth. "oh, there you go. that was a pretty good attempt." he gave an approving nod, enjoying this little back-and-forth. "but no, i don't actually need you to swoon. that's just what most girls do, you know?" his gaze lingered on you, the humour replaced with intensity. 

"well, fabian, i've grown susceptible to your antics having been stuck with you for several years now." 

george chuckled at your comment, the sound warm and familiar. "right. i'd forgotten i'm just old news to you at this point." he feigned a look of mock despair, clutching at his heart. "i've lost my charm! how will i ever recover?"

"so what?" you said, a smile on your lips. you've clearly lost interest in your book, keeping the conversation with george going. "why do you need me to fall for your serenading when you have everyone else?"

george's grin widened at question. "you mean the legions of admirers i have? well, they're easy. not much of a challenge."

you chuckled at his words. despite his exaggeration, the twins truly did have their fair share of fans. they were good looking and outgoing — how couldn't they? "or maybe," you started, leaning in, "i have the decency to remain platonic with my best friend."

"oh, the 'decency'? is that what it is?" he teased, leaning in as well. "here i was, thinking you just couldn't handle me," he joked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "but you're probably right. if i had the chance, though — i'd kiss you senseless."

your mouth fell at his words. how could he emphatically admit such a thing? you couldn't tell if this was a funny flirtation taken up a notch or an outright confession.

his smirk turned into a full-blown smile. "oh, are you speechless already? i'm not joking, you know. i might be a plonker, but i'm not lying. i'd love to kiss you senseless."

your expression glitched as you collect yourself together. you glanced down at your book again and grumbled, "if this is a declaration of love, it's an awful one."

"oh, come on. you know me. i'm no poet. i can't recite a fancy verse and make it sound beautiful." he rested his chin in his hand, his smile softening. "but i can be honest." he gaze remained locked on yours, his next words more serious. "this isn't a joke, and it's not a prank. i'm not good with words, but i'm trying, for you."

"you've always been good with words." you're quick to correct him with a soft smile.

george huffed at your comment, though the edge is gone from his expression. "not the right words, apparently."

"what are you trying to say, george?" you prodded, your eyebrows knitting together. you weren't oblivious, but you needed him to come forth since he'd already made it this far.

he paused then, gathering his thoughts. "what i'm trying to say is — i fancy you. i have for a while, probably longer than i even realized." he shrugged, his casual facade dropping for just a moment.

your eyes glimmered as you watched him say his truth. it's intimate and quiet and the total opposite of how you ever imagined he'd confess. the twins were always about grandeur. the thought of fred deepened your frown.

it was unfair. the twins were so different in your eyes. there was always this ongoing joke between the three of you — who was the most handsome twin? who was the favourite? a constant, lighthearted competition to gain that title. you'd always brush them off, saying you didn't choose favourites. and while you'd say it with a smile, the truth wasn't far fetched. truly and selfishly, you could never pick. falling in love with the both of them was a cruel price to pay for the trio's friendship. 

you knew that if you were to choose one, you'd greedily just continue to love the other. that was a burden you wouldn't dare to bring to the table. living in denial of any romantic feelings felt like the best solution.

you glanced away, avoiding george's eyes. "i — george, it's a little complicated on my end." you vaguely explained.

george noticed the shift in your expression, the way your gaze averted from his. he leaned back in his seat, a hint of understanding in his eyes. "care to enlighten me, or am i supposed to guess?" he was trying to keep it light, but there was a strain behind his words.

"it's—" you looked back at george with a flash of vulnerability, as if your eyes wanted to scream the truth out. i'm greed incarnate! i love you, george. and i know that i love fred just as much. "it's not that easy."

"i never said it was easy," he said softly. "but i'm asking you to try. to be honest." he paused, his next words said carefully. "is there — someone else?"

you'd always had a weakness to george. since they were young, george was the one you always found yourself opening up to. he was easy to talk to. there were several nights where he'd pleaded you to unbolt, helped you stop bottling up your own issues and insecurities. his question made you freeze and you prayed to merlin he didn't catch it. you bit down on your lip, your eyes downcast.

he knew you better than you though, he noticed every subtle movement, every change in your expression. he leaned in further, his voice a mere whisper, almost begging, "answer me, please." he couldn't deny to himself the twinge of pain in his heart if you were to say yes, but he needed to know the truth, the whole truth.

"george, i can't love you the way you want me to." you decided to say, using all your courage to look him in the face. your expression is sympathetic. you weren't denying your feelings but you certainly weren't accepting of them either. hesitantly, you reached out for his hand on the table, holding it tenderly as if to soften the blow.

george looked back at you, his expression a mixture of surprise and confusion. he felt your hand on his, your touch soft but cautious. "you — can't?" he repeated his voice strangely calm. "can't, or won't?" his gaze fell to your fingers on his hand. "there's a difference, you know."

"it won't change the outcome." you whispered out, tears building up in your eyes as you tilted your head to the side.

george let out a sigh, his shoulders drooping. his fingers tightened around yours, not wanting to let go yet. "so, you're telling me," his voice was thick with emotion, "that you do have feelings for me, but you're choosing to ignore them? i'm right here, trying to let you in. and you're saying it's pointless because you've made up your mind?"

your eyes flew shut, as if accepting your fate. of course, george caught on. he was smart and ever so emotionally intelligent. he knew what you were saying without you even saying it. your eyes opened up once again as you begun your beseeches. "please, just let us go back to how things were. it's easier that way for the both of us."

george looked at you, his expression a mix of frustration and pain. "how things were?" he repeated, a bitter laugh escaping him. "you want us to go back to being what? friends? because that's what we are, right? just — friends." his gaze locked onto yours, holding a hint of desperation. "you seriously think that's easier? act as though my feelings don't exist? as though i can just shove them back down and pretend everything's fine?"

you pulled your hand back, his reply leaving you anxious. he had all the right to be angry at your request. it would've been a lot simpler if you couldn't return the feelings and just outright reject him. but knowing that you did like him, but didn't want to, confused the hell out of him. regardless, it still hurt. you hated it as much as he did. he didn't know that you were only trying to be fair for his sake. "if you want some time, i'll give you that." you said instead, averting your gaze again.

george watched as you pulled your hand away, a pang of hurt in his chest. he ran a hand through his hair, frustration and hurt etched across his face. "time," he muttered, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "what good is time going to do? it's not going to change how i feel about you, and clearly, it's not going to change how you feel about me. so what, i'm just supposed to wait around, hoping you'll change your mind?"

"i'm not saying that." you hissed, your eyes snapping back to him, your own exasperation building up. you tried not to make a scene — they were in a library after all. "you can move on. i'm not asking you to pathetically stick around — i'm not cruel."

george let out a scoff, his anger mixing with disbelief at your words. "you're telling me to just move on, like it's simple as that? do you have any idea how hard that's going to be? i can't just switch off my feelings. it's not like flicking a bloody light switch." 

you ran a hand down your hair, tension building up from the situation. "i don't know what you want from me, but i certainly can't give you the relationship you need." you spat out honestly.

george looked at you with resignation. "i know you can't, alright? you've made that painfully clear." he ran a hand over his face, his expression tight with restrained emotion. "but you don't get to act like it's easy for me to accept that. to just move on and forget about my feelings for you. you don't get to decide that for me."

there's a moment where you quietly just processed his words. he had a point — this wasn't a situation which called for your perfectionism. feelings were messy, but oh so human and necessary. "i'm sorry." you admitted. your tone was soft again, anger no longer evident. "that wasn't my intention. i just— don't want to ruin things between us. you mean a lot to me, okay?" george looked at you, his own features softening as he heard your genuine remorse. "my stupidity on this whole thing isn't worth risking the bond we have. six years worth of friendship."

he let out a sigh, his vexation slowly cooling down. "i get that." he said, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "and you're right. we have something good here. you're my best friend — one of my closest friends." he paused, his gaze still on you. "i don't want to lose that either."

you sent him a gentle smile in return. slowly, you got up from your chair, walking closer to his side of the table. "i care for you." when in reality, you wanted to say 'i love you'. your arms were wide open, offering a hug. he rose from his seat as well, accepting your affection. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him tightly.

he buried his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm as he muttered, "i care for you, too." there was a hint of longing in his voice; the undertone of 'more than care'.

[rjunhuang]

always the prefects bathroom - harry potter

summary: despite harry potter's presence in the prefects bathroom, you aren't stopped from taking a soothing bath wc: 1016 cw: making out, like super brief handjob it doesn't really count

You hadn’t expected the prefects’ bathroom to be occupied, hence the reason you were standing with a bag over your shoulder with your showering necessities. However, at the sight of Harry Potter in the giant, soapy tub with his head laid back on the cold tiles, you were immediately whining “Oh, come on!” Harry was instantly jumping up with a surprised noise, both hands immediately flying to make himself somewhat decent. Not that you could see his dick past all the bathtub’s soap, nor that you were looking.

“Who showers in here naked?” You immediately judged, gesturing to the vast bathroom “Everyone knows that Moaning Myrtle is the biggest perv.” You scoffed nonetheless, rolling your eyes and making your way out of the bathroom. “No, wait!” Your footsteps halted, and you curiously looked back towards the boy who lived. “Um, you can join. I won’t try anything weird.”

You watched wearily as he dragged his boxers into the tub, his movements telling you that he was putting them back on. You didn’t know whether to be disgusted or flattered, Bbut you weren’t about to waste an opportunity for a luxurious bath, even if it meant sharing it with Harry Potter. So you quickly stripped your clothes off, and Harry shamelessly drank in the sight of you in a bikini as you stepped into the tub.

Why did he think people showered in here naked?

The tub was big enough for you and Harry to sit on opposite sides with plenty of space between you, given how spacious the circular tub was, but you took a seat surprisingly close to Harry, watching his face for a moment before taking your book out of your bag and humming in satisfaction at the water’s warmth.

Harry cleared his throat before looking away from you and busied himself by staring at the stained glass windows of the bathroom. He couldn't help looking back at you though, watching as you flicked onto the neck page of your book, your soapy arms glistening as the sunlight hit you from the right angle, creating a rainbow of colours over your skin. “It’s a little difficult to focus when you’re staring so hard.” You put your book away to return Harry’s stare, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Sorry, I’m not quite used to sharing a bath with someone.” You hummed, raising an eyebrow at the bespectacled boy. “I’m sorry, is this too sexual for you?” Harry is quickly blushing at your comment, shaking his head at you and gulping thickly. You laughed, swimming closer to him in the bath’s shallow waters. “You’ve got soap on your glasses, by the way.” You stated, sitting back on your knees in front of him, which gave you more height in the tub.

Harry’s eyes were immediately drawn downwards to where your chest was barely peeking out of the water, the curve of your breasts in your bikini top catching his eyes. “Mhm, maybe Moaning Myrtle isn’t the only pervert around here.” Harry gasped at the comment, watching as you pulled your hair into a makeshift bun at the back of your head before letting it go again. How could you say something like that while looking so unbothered? “I didn’t mean to!” Harry cried, abruptly looking away from you. Your laughter had his head snapping in your direction instantly though, as you muttered. “Well, I don’t mind it so much when it’s a handsome man like yourself.”

Harry didn’t know what overtook him. Was it the fact that the pretty prefect everyone thirsted after was flirting with him? Was it the fact that you were giving him the tiniest bit of attention? Was it the fact that you were half naked in a bathtub with him? Well, whatever it was, it had him launching forward to press his lips against yours. He froze for a second, his earlier words ringing in his own head.

‘I won’t try anything weird.’ But did it really matter when you were pulling him closer to you and deepening the kiss?

The boy groaned, hands naturally settling on your hips and dragging you towards him until you were planted on his lap. You moaned softly into the kiss, hips dragging against Harry’s. He gasped, parting his lips to greet your tongue in his mouth. His tongue glided against yours harshly, fighting for a dominance you instantly acquired by snaking your hand into Harry’s hair and tugging softly.

Harry was instantly growing hard underneath you, but who could blame him when there was so little separating his cock from your greedy cunt, grinding down on him so desperately. “Please.” Harry muttered into the kiss. You giggled, hand trailing down to grasp the elastic band of his boxers before finally moving past, your fingers wrapping around his hard cock to tug on it once, twice.

But before you could pull your bikini bottoms down, the door rattled again as someone entered the bathroom. “It’s always the fucking prefects bathroom.” The person groaned, causing you to shoot away from the gryffindor boy in front of you, water splashing loudly around you. You cleared your throat, even as the person walked out of the bathroom, leaving you alone with Harry again.

Despite everything, you abruptly stood up, wrapping your towel around you as Harry stared at you with his jaw slack. “You know, I don’t sleep around with people I’m not dating.” But Harry almost let out a laugh at how incredulous that sounded when you were only seconds away from sinking onto his cock. Harry stood up, walking towards you and pulling your towel off your skin, leaving you in your bikini again. You gasped sharply as Harry tugged you back into the bath, letting out a squeal as the water crashed around you and Harry trapped you between his body and the edge of the bath tub.

“Okay,” he started, “So let’s say this is our third date, and tomorrow I’ll take you for a forth.” The boy didn’t hide his grin when you desperately pulled him back in for another kiss.

[rjunhuang]

the one where you make theo cry (an ain’t that love inspired drabble)

Theodore Nott was hardly the kind of man who wore his heart on his sleeve. He had spent years perfecting his signature air of indifference, the one that captivated most others, what compelled them to make an impression on him. Of course, all that fell away when it came to you.

It started subtly. A sigh escaping your lips after a long day would leave him restless, make his bones a little weary. When you rubbed your temples in frustration, he found himself getting agitated with you - whatever was vexing you so undoubtedly deserved his irritation too. And when you laughed - loud, unabashed - it felt like a breath of fresh air.

Not that he'd admit it to anyone. No, he'd promised himself a long time ago, he wouldn't tell a soul - not his friends, not his family, and certainly not you. Little did he know he had yet to see a moment of yours that would truly unravel him at the seams.

It happened on an ordinary Tuesday whilst tracking down Mattheo. He had checked their dorm, the Great Hall, the Quidditch pitch, everywhere - which left solely your dorm. Theo vaguely remembered him mentioning something about fixing one of the pipes in the bathroom, which was really just a ploy to impress one of your roommates more than anything.

But as he passed through the Slytherin common room on his way there, your droopy, teary eyes peering up at him for a split second, Theo swore he felt something inside of him crack open. You weren’t crying, not quite, but you were close. And Merlin, he hated it. Hated how his throat constricted, how his chest tightened, how his own stomach twisted with the bitterness of your misery.

He looked almost comically stricken briefly before straightening his face. "What's wrong?" he asked, voice low.

"It’s nothing." You shook your head, brushing it off with a tight, superficial smile as you moved up to make room for him. "Mattheo’s almost done, he’ll be down in a second."

Still taken aback, Theo accepted the seat beside you 

"It doesn't look like nothing," he prompted. You laughed weakly, dabbing at your eyes.

"Don't worry. It is, really. I'm just feeling a little…hormonal today." Your gaze fell back to the book and almost immediately, your emotions betrayed you once again.

You sniffled as your face screwed up in your effort to choke back your sobs. Theo felt a lump in his throat and an unfamiliar stinging sensation at the corners of his eyes.

“It’s just - “ you forced out, “he’s so small. Look at him, Theo. He’s tiny. He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know about taxes. He doesn’t even know about taxes.”

Theo finally caught sight of the page of your book. It had a picture of a baby niffler, no bigger than the size of your thumb - tiny, soft, with big, round, trusting (if only slightly mischievous) eyes.

As you dissolved into more stifled sobs, Theo blinked, caught completely off guard. Then, to everyone’s horror - including his own - his eyes misted over too.

"Oh, for fuck’s sake," Blaise muttered from across the room, watching the scene unfold. "Are you actually crying?"

“It’s fucking tiny.”

Theo scowled at him, aggressively wiping his face. He wasn’t sure what was worse—the sound of your quiet, shuddering breaths, or the way your shoulders trembled under his hands as he pulled you close.

You hiccupped between sobs. "I just love it so much."

Theo swallowed thickly, nodding. "Yeah. Me too." He glanced at the book in your lap again. He hugged you closer, deciding you were right - how dare a Niffler be that tiny, baby or otherwise?

Blaise sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Right. I’ve seen enough."

Theo’s tears dried as quickly as they came, but the two of you stayed pressed together for a long time after Blaise left, even after your breathing had slowed into something more measured once again. You pressed your cool check against his shoulder, half-dozing.

Unthinkingly, Theo pried your clenched fist open. Surprisingly, you let him thread his fingers through your own. He glanced down at you, at the soft locks of hair curling around your tearstained face. He resisted the urge to press a kiss to the top of your head.

You looked up at him questioning. His grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly.

“Just - just let me, alright?���

A playful smile tugged at your lips. “You’re ridiculous, Teddy.” Your smile turned teasing. “Wait till Mattheo hears you cried over a baby niffler.”

Theo took on a wounded look. “So did you.”

As the two of you curled up again, Theo decided that this emotional telepathy wasn’t the worst thing in the world. When you sighed, he sighed. When you laughed, he laughed. When you hurt, he hurt. When you cried over a baby niffler… apparently, he did, too.

He hardly dared to think it, but he did it all the same.

Wasn’t that love?

[rjunhuang]

summer '68 ✰ peter maximoff

featuring: headcanons of peter maximoff.

warnings: lowercase intended. modern au (the timeline's already fucked up, blame it on deadpool 2).

note: this is solely my interpretation of peter! if u don't agree, u can simply just scroll :) sorry there's not many, my hyperfixation is on hp now lol

divider by hyuneskkami | comments & reblogs are appreciated! <3

he's not actually a kleptomaniac — well, maybe not a typical one. he's just too impatient to wait down a line of cashiers. 

and maybeee he enjoys stealing from the rich.

peter hates googling for answers. he'd rather just grab a book and search for the answer himself. he'd say it's because "he's faster than google"

books > movies. he can complete a book within thirty seconds. a movie on 2x speed is still too slow for him.

has countless of shoes (stolen mostly). he keeps burning the soles off with his speed so he needs a new one very often. 

this is pretty much canon but he's most definitely a converse guy.

peter is the type to spam the shit out of his instagram stories before going m.i.a for the next few weeks. it's a constant back-and-forth cycle

before his mutation kicked in, he had a heelys phase.

that being said, i imagine he'd got his mutation when he was about eight or nine. that's why he'd be so open to showing his powers by the time he was seventeen. he obviously dealt with his fair share of insecurities and prejudice, but he'd grow to accept himself.

surprisingly talented in a lot of things. since he has all the time in the world, he's tried out a lot of hobbies: playing the guitar, solving the rubix cube, etc. once he's got the basics down he's already bored and ditches it.

that being said, he cannot cook or draw for the life of him. he's the type to grip a crayon so hard it tears through the paper.

[rjunhuang]

how the harry potter boys would react to you hooking up with someone else. — part two.

featuring: cedric diggory, neville longbottom, blaise zabini, oliver wood, theodore nott.

warnings: lowercase intended. gender neutral reader. informal writing?? they're a bit toxic. bullying. boys are dumb. kissing. unhealthy coping mechanisms. my depiction/fanon!theo. mentions of weed, smoking & other substances. mentions of sex.

note: here's ur part two!! thank u for all the love and support for the first part. y'all had me smiling and shit. send in requests for more prompts if y'all would like that.

part one | comments & reblogs are appreciated! <3

cedric!  there's no doubt that cedric diggory is a people's pleaser. all in all, he has a heart of gold but he's blinded by naivety to realise the red flags of his friend group. unfortunately, their toxicity does sometimes have an affect on the said golden boy. thus how a heated and disheartened rant about how you chose roger davies over him to his friends would lead to gossip, tattletales, and undeniable amounts of insolent comments. the 'rumours' of you and davies would spread like wildfire with those chatterboxes, and especially not positive ones on the ravenclaw guy. you'd caught clear moments where cedric would be snickering along with his mates as their eyes followed the motions of your boytoy.

he'd been laying down on the fresh grass with the support of his elbow, a cheeky grin spread across his lips as his gaze switches back and forth between his friends and the couple. some goon would get the brilliant idea to throw a core of an apple at roger. cedric's cheery expression would immediately drain out of him and be replaced with one of regret — "wait, come on, you didn't have to do that." he'd even shoot you a sympathetic look when your gazes connect.

this would be a common occurrence as his friends only grew more confident with their obvious distaste towards your fling. almost every matter would result in an apology from cedric, whether verbal or not.

"my friend was being a dick so, uhm, sorry about him. truly." his voice soft and airy; it brings the same sensation as a sugar cookie.

on the other side of things, you'd begun receiving bouquets of flowers and hampers of your favourite foods — someone was definitely keeping an eye on what you sneakily snacked on during classes. it would always be signed with a beautiful doodle of a butterfly, and sometimes if you were lucky enough, a short sentence of a romantic affirmation. it would've been creepy had there not been cute attempts from your admirer to prove otherwise. every note addressed to you would always have some sort of psa in brackets like 'i'll totally stop if you want me to', 'i really hope i'm not coming off as creepy' or a silly self-deprecating joke to turn the intensity of it all down. it also couldn't be creepy given the time with cedric's friends and this secret admirer fiasco being so obviously correlated.

you knew for certain that these gifts weren't coming from roger. sure, the attention the ravenclaw gave you made you feel desired and attractive.. but he barely even cared to get to know you. dates with roger were so dang boring — it felt like an awkward, unwarranted staring contest. it was clear he was only attracted to you visually. roger would never know you the way this secret admirer (who was so obviously diggory) did. it made you feel giddy — the epitome of a high school student in love. it wouldn't be long before you dump davies.

entering his muggle studies classroom, cedric would find a note placed on the desk where he usually sits, along with a daffodil. it reads — 'i hope you like flowers, diggory, because our date's going to be at the greenhouse.' unlike him though, the note is signed with the clear letters of your name. it's safe to say cedric was having trouble focusing on the rest of his class, his head in the clouds at the thought of you returning feelings.

neville!  it's unspoken rule that you and neville longbottom were to be herbology partners no matter what. it became a habit after years of doing so. you two worked best in the partnership of each other, earning highest ranks in the subject throughout all your years. but.. that was it, really. the moment you stepped out of the greenhouse and entered to real world of hogwarts, all sense of familiarity between one another left your bodies. you always chalked it up as neville being too shy to interact with you outside of class, and vice versa. it didn't really bother you. something about those tender moments during class hours warmed you up like no other. it was special and vulnerable and if it could only be obtained between the confines of many plants and some jabbering students; so be it. 

to neville, it made sense that you guys were strangers outside of herbology. i mean, merlin, you were one of a kind. you brought a light into a room that no one could resist looking away from. like moths drawn to a flame, you gained sort of a status among popularity. there was no way a guy like neville should be seen near a person like you. or so he thought. 

it shouldn't have been a surprise that neville was one of the last to find out that you were going on dates with dean thomas of all wizards. aesthetically (and probably personally for all he knew too), dean and you were a match made in heaven. both popular enough, well-liked, and most certainly good-looking. yet despite it all, neville still couldn't help but feel so bummed. he didn't even want to think of what it meant for your upcoming lessons in herbology together. how you'd stop clutching onto his shoulder to laugh at whatever awkwardly funny thing he'd said or no longer timidly compliment his good work for the day before leaving the class. would you smile at him less? reserve them for dean instead? the thought was awful enough and neville was certain he didn't want to know the answer to these insecurities. 

when the next lesson of herbology rolled in, you were definitely surprised to see neville seated with hannah abbott instead. you tried to shrug it off, thinking of it as a one time occurrence. but, oh, were you so wrong. 

he was ignoring you. you knew by the way he'd purposefully avoided your eyes with a gulp as you'd try to catch his attention during class. he'd placed himself rows away from you, secretly admiring you with yearnful eyes. the thought of you and dean never left his mind. and if you tried to talk to him? he was straight out the door the minute class was dismissed, running away in his usual, clumsy manner.

the lack of neville's presence in your life saddened you a lot more than you expected. you found yourself drawn to the greenhouses even during odd hours, reminiscing over the memories you had spent there with the gryffindor boy among the years.

the dirt under your hands seems to ease your mind of any worries as you take it upon yourself to fix a broken potted plant. you'd be so preoccupied by the task, you fail to notice a certain boy walk in and get stunned by the sight of you in there. neville's arm flying up and almost knocking over an empty glass jar was what brings your attention to him. you have to resist the small smile creeping up the corner of your lips.  neville, on the other hand, straightens up after he gently places the jar where it supposed to be. his head is down as he mumbles, "right, sorry, i'l—" "stay." your gloved hand immediately flies over to grab his wrist, doing your best not to dirty him. "please." the pleading eyes of yours seem to work as neville makes no attempt to dash out as usual. he stays firm in his place, watching you with wide eyes. seeing that he doesn't speak up, you do the honours instead. "i've missed you. you don't seem to want to sit with me anymore." you gently start with a soft smile.  the words 'i've missed you' knock the wind right out of neville. his heart stutters and mind dizzies. "oh— i just— dean, you know? thought you wouldn't have wanted to talk to me anymore. i—i mean dean's great! perfect! you're super fit. obviously, great. who wouldn't like you? hah, i certainly do, but i didn't want to bother—" your lips are crashing against his the next second with burning cheeks. it shuts neville up from his rambling. he can only gawk at you when you pull away, his face beet red. "i think you're pretty fit yourself, nev." you manage giggle out.

blaise!  michael corner was great. those were the words you used to describe your recent date with him. those were also the words your friends, pansy parkinson and theodore nott, affirmed back to you. they, along with a silent blaise zabini, were the first to hear the news about your love life's new contender. 

sitting by the courtyard, you twiddle your thumbs nervously after revealing your budding romance with corner. pansy, the closest to you physically and personally, happens to notice your skittish demeanour — well, it's hard not to. "michael corner? the ravenclaw? that's great. he's great." her voice slightly strains and you don't know if this is her attempt to ease your nerves or if she's incapable of genuinely complimenting a man.  "oh, yeah — great." theodore adds, with a devillish grin, which earns a shove on the shoulder from the girl. they then share an odd look (well, more of a glare from pansy) together. there's a silent conversation happening which only confuses you. who knew nott and parkinson suddenly gained the ability of telepathy. dismissing their odd reactions, you take the opportunity to glance over to blaise — who has his head down, reading a potions textbook. you don't know why you yearn for blaise's approval but he remains silent, deeply entrenched in his reading. you chalk it up to him being in one of his nonverbal, introverted moods and don't try to take his lack of interest in the news too personally.

over the course of time, nothing much changed between your friend group. it still contained the dynamic of pansy and theodore bickering, whilst you and blaise mediated. though, once in a while, you jumped in on the banter yourself.

"oh, nothing better than ganging up on nott, yeah?" theodore would sarcastically chime in with the roll of his eyes.

things with michael had been going well enough, a little slow maybe. your time spent with your friends on some days got cut short due to your plans with him. sometimes, you swore you saw a twitch in blaise's jaw whenever you brought up your fling's name. but maybe that was your imagination — how could blaise be annoyed or upset if his expression remained completely neutral? had you not known him better, one might think he was bored in the company of his friends with that face of his. 

after weeks of slacking off, you decide to make this particular day a studious and productive one. given your big age, it was best to be responsible and get some extra reading done for your studies. you can't blame blaise for his similar habits — education at hogwarts seemed to be growing tougher day by day. it's why today you'd do your rare visit to the library. struggling to reach for a copy of 'magical drafts and potions', you feel yourself grow a little self-conscious by your foolish-looking predicament. however, a hand from behind startles you, saving you from the plight. you blink in surprise, craning your head to see who this mysterious helper is. blaise is looking down at you with a hint of a smirk. he's still hovering behind you, hand clutched onto the spine of your desired book. the ghost of his smirk is irresistible to look at. you feel a little shameless staring at his lips like this but, merlin, the intensity of this moment has you fully engulfed. you swear you see his smirk widen a little and blaise takes the opportunity to poke fun at your blatant staring. "still think you want corner?" blaise's voice is monotone to a deaf ear, but you can tell he's feeling a bit smug.  he gives you no chance to reply, handing the book over before walking out. you stand there baffled, bewildered and actually questioning if any other wizard could set your heart ablaze the way zabini just did.

oliver!  oliver wood loved his routines. he loved to wake up at dawn to train before the morning birds are even ready to sing. he, well, endured the classes he's forced to sit and progress through in order to keep quidditch in his life. he loved to charge back into the fields after lunch, ready for another day of practice. and surprisingly to most, he loved to hang out with you by the black lake afterwards, all sweaty and disheveled from the exhilarating sport. 

he's not oliver wood if he's breaking these habits.

so the one day he didn't show up to your cute little meeting point, you're stunned. you thought — oh godric, all those jokes you made about 'a bludger getting to him before you-know-who ever did' have finally come true. he must be dead if he's not living up to his schedule! 

but you're wrong. he's certainly not in the care of madam pomfrey or working overtime at the quidditch field as both places were definitely deserted when you came by to check. 

so where the hell was the captain? see, unbeknownst to you, oliver caught you snogging marcus flint right as he approached the lake. slytherin quidditch captain marcus flint. he found it crazy how out of all the students you could've picked to kiss, it was the one man oliver despised. they were practically enemies. and though you owed him no decision-making in your love life, oliver felt betrayed. hence, he turned his heels, making no effort to disturb the two of you as he stormed his way back to his dorm. 

the following silent treatment and petty attitude from him left you more or less disheartened. he was a close confidant, and the way he managed to drop you without a word shattered you. he'd stop talking to you overall. you even learned from a conversation with alicia spinnet that he'd started to become a lot more grumpy during practices — harder on his teammates, giving them lesser breaks, he'd brought forth a sort of 'no pain, no gain' attitude into the environment.

any time you glanced his way, you noticed the bags under his dark eyes. clearly, his nights were nothing but restless. if you thought he was obsessed with quidditch before? you'd hate to see him now. he'd never left the fields or his broom unless madam hooch or, worse, professor mcgonagall dragged him out of there by his ear themselves.

concerned would be an understatement. this man was tweaking out all because of you and flint. pretty sure he'd recovered from quidditch loses better than this. 

you're practically rushing to the hospital wing when you hear the news that wood collapsed in the middle of practice. that lack of sleep must've gotten to him because oliver is beyond exhausted. madam pomfrey has forced him into bedrest (she'd have him shackled to the beds had it not been illegal) — he can certainly lay off quidditch for a while. worry paints your features as you peer down at oliver, clutching onto the side of the bed. he can only (attempt to) glare at you as you flood him with questions about his health. "why haven't you been sleeping? have you been eating? why are you overworking yourself like this — interhouse isn't until next season." oliver scoffs, his throat a little croaky. "why do you care?" he grumbles, crossing his arms like an upset toddler in the process. "don't you have flint to fret over?"  and it hits you — after days of this trivial behaviour from wood — that this man was fucking jealous. you don't know if it's inconsiderate to laugh at this realisation, so you resist. "we ended things." is all you give him, holding back from any sort of expression. it's clear you really don't feel bummed by it. the reaction you get from him is beyond elated. he breaks out into a grin and you can practically see the confidence return to his system. he's looking at you like he wants to sweep you off your feet and kiss you. like he's just won the lottery. so bloody euphoric, all oliver can reply is "oh."

theodore!  he is a pretty codependent person in my eyes. especially since he's recovering from a weighted past. when you started hooking up with ernie macmillan, all his bad habits came crashing down. you were his anchor — he'd often vent to you about his problems with his father at home or whatever struggles he faced with his friends sometimes. he hated to know that any brewing feelings he had towards you were never going to be reciprocated. 

he started going to class high. it's so miserable to witness. he promised you before that he'd quit or at least lay off on his substance related habits a bit — that he'd only do it socially if he wanted. showing up to class with red eyes and a mind elsewhere was not smoking socially. it's a miracle professor snape had his biases towards slytherins because if another teacher as observant as the greasy haired twat were to catch theodore, he could kiss goodbye to hogwarts. thankfully, snape never noticed this change either, too busy shaming a gryffindor during his classes instead. 

soon, you were hearing rumours of nott breaking every girls heart out there. it's one game after another with them. which was all the more surprising because theodore was never really a player. most of the public saw him as one of those untouchable hot guys — he was much less likely to sleep around compared to his other slytherin companions. it was like theodore had done a full hundred and eighty. his mindset was; if you were going to be messy, why couldn't he?

your final straw would be at the news of his newfound habit of getting into fights. seeing him enter the great hall every morning with a black eye became an uncomfortably common occurrence. sporting and piling up this many wounds was a horrific sight. it seemed like even malfoy and his goons were growing concerned.

theodore had been on his way out after breakfast — probably ready to sneak into a hidden cranny or abandoned room to light himself a joint before classes were to start. only merlin knew whether he'd decide to skip a few of these classes or not today. his exit out the great hall was cut short when he passes by the hufflepuff table. in a matter out seconds, one of the boys from the house is pinned to the table, food scattered and other peers watching in horror. theodore's knuckles turn white from how hard he's clutching onto the guy's collar.  you can only helplessly shoot up from wherever you're seated. the expression theodore holds is too grim that you have no backbone to interfere. whatever he's sneering to the hufflepuff is inaudible to the rest of the students present. it's not long before one of the faculty pulls them apart — "it's far too early for such nonsense!" screeches mcgonagall in her distinguished scottish accent.

judging by whatever the hell you had witnessed earlier that morning, you knew you couldn't keep allowing theo to shut you out like this.

pacing around in circles, you wait in the moonlit courtyard for your close friend. without a doubt, he'd show up in need to escape the chaos of the slytherin dungeon. there'd been many nights where the two of you sat here together, hiding from patrolling teachers or mr. filch. the theodore with you then was boisterous, happy, healing. he felt far from the guy you were about to confront. a soft footstep against the gravel behind you is the signal that gets you to whip around. you face the dark haired man with a stern expression, walking over to him in a fierce manner. "what the fuck has been going on with you?!" you whisper-shout, frustration evident when you shove his chest back.  theo's reaction is to clench his jaw, his eyes not daring to meet yours as he looks away. he stumbles back a bit from your push. "i don't know what you're talking about." he attempts to brush you off. feigning nonchalance and disinterest, he keeps his hands stuffed into his pockets. this doesn't stop you from inquiring further. you bring up anything you can — "is it your father again?", "malfoy then?", "stress? merlin, theodore, just talk to me." the two of you bicker back and forth, each sentence spat growing more and more exasperated.  finally, theo fesses up, tired of your endless and awfully oblivious queries. "merlin— it's you!" he hisses out, running a desperate hand down his brown locks. "it's you and your loser loverboy and how my stupid heart can't fucking handle watching you be happy in the arms of another man who isn't me." you notice how the rim of his eyes begin to grow red. it startles you but you can't ignore the excitement in your heart either. "and you thought it was smarter to ignore me rather than confess?" for the first time in the argument, your tone is one of lighthearted humour with the corner of your lips itching to smile. 

[rjunhuang]

rjunhuang's masterlist

― EXTRAORDINARY YOU.

" 11:57 pm " - - - timestamp. pairing: baek kyung x reader ⇢ summary: knowing your boyfriend inside and out, he takes you to the final part of him that he had been hiding.

― X-MEN.

" song for lovers " - - - headcanons. pairing: peter maximoff x reader ⇢ summary: how dating peter would be like.

" summer '68 " - - - headcanons. featuring: peter maximoff.

― HARRY POTTER.

" 001 " - - - reacts. featuring: harry potter, ron weasley, draco malfoy, fred weasley, george weasley ⇢ summary: how they would react to you hooking up with someone else.

" 002 " - - - reacts. featuring: cedric diggory, neville longbottom, blaise zabini, oliver wood, theodore nott⇢ summary: how they would react to you hooking up with someone else.

" care " - - - pairing: george weasley x reader, fred weasley x reader⇢ summary: when banter and boredom leaves to love confessions, you're painfully forced to reject george for his own good. after all, he can't know that you love his twin brother just as much.

[rjunhuang]

rika. 9teen. s.asian. she/they. scorpio. intj. queer+ace. ravenclaw. cabin 5 & 8. renjun's lovergirl. ☘️

╰・ masterlist | recs | inbox (open for chats & more)

୨୧ requests are 📝 open !!

i may take time to get to them. i'm a busy girl. please don't request smut — i'm asexual! this is a sfw blog (sorta). some reblogs/recs may contain smut. english is not my mother tongue :)

୨୧ currently listening to 🎧 sun tan - wallows

──── please do not modify, translate, plagiarize, copy, or claim any of my works as yours. fuck ai! dividers by si-eunnis & bernardsbendystraws.

[rjunhuang]

how the harry potter boys would react to you hooking up with someone else.

featuring: harry potter, ron weasley, draco malfoy, fred weasley, george weasley. part two.

warnings: lowercase intended. gender neutral reader. informal writing?? they're a bit toxic.

note: can you believe i wrote this in 2023? it was an unfinished draft featuring more characters. i might make a part two w them included. also i do NOT like draco lol so i'm a little biased when i write him. honestly send in some requests on what other prompts you'd like to see w them

divider by enchanthings | comments & reblogs are appreciated! <3

harry!  he'd highkey be so salty about it. at first, he's just completely off put and hurt by the thought of you going out with someone else. HE THOUGHT Y'ALL HAD SOMETHING GOING ON </3

his literal initial reaction would be, "oh.. montague, huh.. hm uh.." before walking away from the conversation all together.

if you're a dumbass, you'd assumed he's just incredibly awkward when it came to hearing about other people's relationships, but supportive nonetheless. oh, you're wrong though. he walked off because he had no idea whether to be angry at himself for not pulling any sooner or at you for choosing someone slimey as graham montague to swap spit with or maybe just montague himself.

the longer this fling lasted, the more comfortable harry would be about expressing his distaste on the whole relationship. he'd given you lectures about how you shouldn't like those type of slytherins. you'd probably lost track on how many times he had indirectly called montague ugly. 

he would visibly show attitude whenever montague interrupted a conversation between you two. eye rolled and scowled like crazy, but he doesn't want to step the line as he's just seen as a friend by you —

"hey, mate, can't you see i'm trying to have a chat with her?"

he'd have dreams about hexing the shit out of graham though. maybe he'd slyly done it in the middle of class when no one's looking too.

if you accuse harry of doing so, he'd simply just shrug, "don't look at me." but would add a silent, "he had it coming though." 

it's like a silent warfare between him and montague soon enough. both of them would be throwing attitude around when you're lowkey oblivious to it all. harry won, obviously, and this would be the breaking point - montague had enough of dealing with harry so he'd just ended things with you. of course, harry's going to comfort you if you do get sad about it —

"i just don't know why he'd do this out of nowhere." you sulk under the hold of harry, both sitting on an empty hallway's staircase. harry has his arm wrapped around you, rubbing your shoulder. "yeah, wonder why.."

he'd had a massive ego boost knowing he was the reason graham montague won't go near you anymore. literally would have to hide his smirk the entire time when comforting you. but he wouldn't be harry potter if he wasn't ending it with a snarky comment. he's not sure whether you'd slap or kiss him for it, but he surely wouldn't mind it being both.

once you and harry finally ended up together, the thought of montague wouldn't even cross his mind. he wouldn't care less about some random troll-looking fool. probably didn't even notice the dirty looks from montague because his eyes are on you. you had his undivided attention.

ron!  he'd thought it's some sick, twisted joke. you'd told him the news that you're hooking up with cormac and just watched ron's face morph from being mortified to plain old disgusted. regarding situations like these, i think ron is a bit emotionally immature so he definitely wouldn't react well.

it had been saturday morning and almost everyone fifth year and above were recovering from a wild friday night common room party. that was the first night you hooked up with mclaggen and this morning, on the way to the great hall, he had pulled you aside to suggest making it a common occurrence — "some fun, no need for any strings attached." were his words. you had brought this up in the table during breakfast when hermione pointed out your flushed expression. the news leaves everyone shocked, but most especially ron. hermione had opened her mouth to begin reasoning with you, "i don't thin—" "THAT'S DISGUSTING!" ron wouldn't even beat around the bush, cutting off hermione. his mouth would be full with scrambled eggs and toast since he had stopped bothering to chew the moment you mentioned the word 'hooked up'. you'd mutter back a petty, "bold coming from the git with his mouth full." obviously hurt by his words.

it only worsened from that point onwards. the beautiful friendship you had with ron would crumble in a matter of time. it's constant fights with you two, ron's almost waiting for a reason to scowl or scoff whenever you're around. good luck even mentioning cormac in front of him, he'd just burst. the jealousy was so undeniably obvious yet you'd be so caught up in the anger of all of it to even realise. had it been someone less athletic than cormac, ron would've jumped him the moment he found out. 

he'd be a petty little bitch but all the dramatics are to hide his insecurity. of course you'd chosen the conventionally attractive hunk over him. he'd be pretty rough on himself because of it; it's pure heartbreak for him. he'd never admit it but he's cried once or twice after storming off from a fight with you. 

the end of your friendship with him would be in a final argument. merlin knows how it started, you never do. but almost a month into your fling with mclaggen, you've grown tired of ron's immaturity. so this time, you ask him.

"why are you even so pressed about this?!" you'd shout to ron. to which he'd counter with, "because he's a dim-witted fool who's only going to hurt you!" the frustration was unbearable as you lick your dry lips, raking a hand through your messy locks. ron is standing opposite to you, chest heaving from the intensity of the situation, yet he shamelessly takes a glance at your lips. "then if you're such an expert at this, tell me who i deserve to be wit—" ron must have a knack for interrupting others because he pulls you into a kiss, frowning as he does so. it's his final desperation for you to just hear him out. and you do, you kiss back and you're hit with the original passion you've always felt for him that these fights had blinded from you.

it's the end of your friendship and the beginning of a romance.

draco!  draco's love language is definitely cliche bullying. without a doubt, he doesn't know how to show affection to anyone at all so you two would definitely be enemies of some sort. i think he'd lowkey be oblivious to the fact that he's straight up mean to you but you've literally had enough of it. you'd had a crush on him since your first year together probably and eventually you caught his eye as well — except for all the wrong reasons. he grew a knack for constantly belittling you in some kind of way even remotely possible to him. though, in his eyes, he always saw it as flirting and you being into all of it. you accepted the attention for what it was and grew to expect his taunts during classes. shamelessly, you did enjoy the fights the two of you shared. however, 'banter' could only last for so long and you eventually grew insecure of the words spat from malfoy. your friends encouraged you to move on and you finally decided to take their word. you supposed you had a type for slytherins, seeing how harper soon enough came into your life. he was a good distraction from malfoy to the point that even the (apparently natural) platinum blond took notice of your distancing. you stopped countering draco's remarks with snarky quips nor did you even bother to spare a glance at him anymore. draco hated the feeling he failed to recognise as heartbreak. he was so caught up in this feeling that he ordered crabbe and goyle to snoop around and find out what changed about your life. it didn't take much investigating to discover the budding romance between you and harper. draco was far more distraught than he thought he'd ever been about the news - but what malfoy's goons failed to communicate was that you and harper were barely anything serious. 

despite that, draco was consumed by emotion. his immediate reaction after his minions left his dorm room was to owl his father with a letter demanding to expel harper from hogwarts. lucius' response, though, was an eerily formal letter telling his pissbaby of a son to never waste his time with such nonsense again. in other words, his father had completely shrugged him off. thus, draco hopped onto the plan b — which was to gang up on harper with his goons. draco liked to claim no one is on his level enough to be his friend, however, he had grown to like harper before this situation arose. they both shared interests in quidditch and shaming others of their blood status. 

soon enough, he had been on harper's case, constantly mocking the other slytherin boy whenever draco found the chance. it was no secret draco had a superiority complex over the fact that harper was the reserve seeker on the slytherin quidditch team whilst draco himself was the main seeker — so this became draco's number one target towards harper.

"your girl couldn't get the real thing so she opted for the knock off instead, yeah?" draco would sneer, adrenaline pumping from the audience that had surrounded him as he insults harper. he tosses a few kicks at the fallen over boy before crabbe and goyle take over with more aggressive ones. he'd snicker at the sight of the dishevelled harper, adding one more comment before walking away, "don't worry, she'll be running back to me soon enough."

fred!  if you think fred weasley's demeanor would even remotely falter at the news of you hooking up with someone else, you are wrong. even the fact that the special guy was viktor fricking krum wouldn't be able to stop the ginger from continuing to shamelessly flirt with you. fred's mindset was the literal definition of 'never back down, never give up'. he was not going to let you go simply because krum was snogging you on the sides. 

it's lunchtime on a wednesday where majority of hogwarts is present in the great hall, along with the selected students of beauxbatons and durmstrang. you were seated next hermione granger at her designated house table, discussing the slight change in the structures of the upcoming exams. so deep in your conversation with the girl, you had somehow failed to notice the presence of the infamous weasley twins with lee jordan right by their side — obviously. fred is the one to interact with you the most whilst the other two gryffindor boys do their own thing. the older twin's hand is pressed down on the table, leaning his whole body weight against it as he hovers over you. you notice a peculiar shadow cast beside you and turn your right, immediately being greeted with a wickedly grinning weasley. you can't help but notice the veins and slight muscle peeking through his rolled up sleeve from his dominant arm being supported by his weight.  hermione, having read the room, turns around, joining a conversation with neville longbottom and ron weasley. "hey, love." fred spoke up, almost purposively being loud enough for others around to take a quick glance. you tense up at the publicly proclaimed nickname, and though you have heard it leave his mouth several times before, this time there is a bulgarian national quidditch player who might just overhear. it doesn't take more than a second for you to spot viktor, who's looking right to your direction, obviously having heard and seen fred. the muscle in krum's tense jaw twitches as he sharply watches the two of you, while on the other hand, fred's gaze on you hasn't budged. in fact, he lifts his left arm up, fixing the position of your head to face him with the grasp on your jaw. "eyes up here, angel." he instructs before going on a tangent about how professor sprout had seperated him and george during class.

to say viktor krum wasn't pleased with fred's public display of affection towards you would be an understatement. apparently in durmstrang, they do things a little differently — such as rounding up your friends and beating up whoever crosses them, rather than the usual duels at hogwarts. so the sight of a bloodied fred entering your dorm had you leaping to your feet to question and aid him. despite the cuts around his face, fred's cocky smile never left his face. clearly he didn't get krum's message, seeing how he took every opportunity to hold your waist as you wiped the cuts clean off his face. krum truly wasn't getting to him. merlin, he seriously enjoyed pissing the guy off.

or so you thought until you caught onto fred's sudden interest in constantly pranking krum and the durmstrang boys. at first you assumed this could be revenge for ganging up on fred, but then you watched the weasley during one of his quidditch practises. beaters already had such an aggressive role — yet in your handful of years knowing fred, you'd never seen him play this aggressive. it was honestly impressive really, how he managed to keep a cool demeanor until he, well, couldn't.

george!  george never could understand what had gotten into you to start hooking up with adrian fucking pucey. seriously, all george could think about was how closely pucey resembled to the troll his younger brother and friends fought during their second year. despite his thoughts, he never uttered a single word out loud. he was far from supportive of the relationship but he did his best to stay respectful — maybe you were in an 'i can fix him' phase. though george had no idea how anyone could remove the definite troll genes from the slytherin. 

so sure, george kept his mouth shut and a respective distance from the whole relationship ... wrong. oh, come on, there's always a twist with the weasley twins. see, whilst publicly he was an angel .. behind closed doors and alone with you was a whole other wizard. the guy knew if he were to harass pucey with his pranks and stand against him, you would only push the ginger away. he didn't even want to risk such a thing. yet, he still wanted to be close enough to remind you of how much he cared. solitary moments with you begun gentle — he didn't want to cross any line, but still needed to have some sort of idea of where exactly that line was. it wasn't out of the ordinary for just the two of you to hang out — you were best friends after all. however, the more days spent with you, the more flirtatious george grew to be around you.

what starts with light touches on your elbow, soon grows into the two of you laying on the common room couch together, your head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around you as he talks sweet nothings with you. it was the same old george before you met pucey — how can you ever walk away from this? almost having read the room, george's gaze flickers onto your lips, the talk from him slowly dying out despite the fact that he hadn't even completed his sentence yet. your brain grows fuzzy at the sight of george slowly leaning in, your own gaze fixated on his lips. it was unfortunate that adrian had to step into your common room during that tender moment, clearly in search of you. knowing him, he was in need of some snogging right now. the darkening look in his eyes as he spots the two of you clearly highlights his distaste towards the whole scene. he had practically marched over to the couch, grabbing george by the collar as he slams him onto the nearest wall. you have to admit, the height difference of the five foot nine pucey compared to george's six foot three makes the whole interaction look a lot more silly. "fuck you doin' with my girl, weasley?" snarls adrian, his irish accent thick with rage. yet george seems less than phased, his arms raised as a smirk grows onto his face. "if she was your girl, mate, she would have pulled away." george calmly adds, glancing at you behind pucey with the most flirtatious eyes known to wizard kind. you can't help but feel stunned at the look, almost melting. "want to be the judge of this, darling?"

[rjunhuang]

HELLO- OMG WHEN YOU PUT THE UNCONVENTIONAL TRAITS PETER WOULD BE ATTRACTED TO- I screamed because they all perfectly described me🩶. I don’t know if you do requests but I was wondering if you could do a fic with Peter x a best friend reader of that description where they both have a huge crush on eachother but both are too insecure/ wouldn’t think the other would be attracted to them like that. But in the end Peter ends up breaking and confessing first :3🩶 pls and thank you- just hearing that you’d think he’d be into girls of that description really boosted my confidence :,]

my first fricking anon!! HII im so glad u liked that hc >_< i hope my writing has yall giggling and kicking ur feet the same way other writers on here do for me. should i test the waters and become a full on tumblr/ao3 writer?? i didn't plan on doing so but i'm a sucker for praise 😚😚 i may take u up on this request in the future bc it is so cute! i am a bored girl who's taking a gap yr before uni soo. if i do take too long to ever write this, other writers are free to use this idea hehe. gosh im such a yapper online,, ty anon for the request and kind words!! it inspires me to write more only bc i want to give unrepresented groups/traits a chance to feel included in x reader fics! i've always always written my fics w a poc reader in mind

[rjunhuang]

song for lovers ✰ peter maximoff

pairing: peter maximoff x reader

summary: headcanons of dating peter.

warnings: lowercase intended. gender neutral reader. mentions of death (jokingly). modern au for like one (1) headcanon.

note: my man my man my man. can't believe i'm posting here again after 2? 4? yrs. my hyperfixation on this man is so intense that i ended up writing a bunch of hcs for him on my notes app.. and where else better than to post here? hope yall fw this

divider by enchanthings | comments & reblogs are appreciated! <3

• peter slows down time a little just to hear your laughter for a few seconds longer. 

• he also does it at random moments so he can see you smile. just think: those cliché moments in films where the lovers hold eye contact and time seems to slow down. it would be exactly like that but you'd be blissfully unaware of peter admiring you.

• does the peter + lara jean thing where he slides his hand into the back pocket of your jeans when y'all are walking together.

• hates texting people. he'd just rather zip to their room if he knows they're there. also oddly ominous with his texts and soo blunt. texts you 'sos' so much that you stopped believing it's an emergency. also randomly sends a string of emojis and expects you to understand what he's trying to say.

• i might be projecting but he'd be into traits that aren't 'conventionally attractive': glasses, short hair, not skinny, big noses. and he loves a person with a quirky style.

• "my partner didn't laugh at my joke i hope i die"

• peter would be so obsessed with you. not in a concerning way but every thought resolves around you. with his adhd brain, you're his hyperfixaction. so damn obsessed that the thought of being with anyone else is near impossible.

• that's why him cheating on you would NEVER happen. he worships you. down freaking bad. brings you up in every conversation. would wear those 'i love my partner' tees.

• i know i'm really skipping ahead here but marrying peter maximoff would be far from traditional. the music would be bomb, his suit would be formal enough.. but he'd most definitely add his own quicksilver touch to it! he would walk down the aisle WITH you. his face so smug and probably dancing to whatever catchy (yet secretly meaningful) song you two picked with your arm in his. it's two best friends in love, a partnership.

[rjunhuang]

— fight or flight.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

content: angst, fanon!theodore, my depiction of theo (so ooc ish), based on that one scene in zootopia, reader is a bit daft, mentions of cigarettes, gender neutral reader? theo's a bit scary in this.

a/n: excuse the terrible writing LOL. also ik the whole scene in zootopia is on microaggression w races but this isn't meant to paint blood supremacists as the 'oppressed' or anything. idk man self deprived me thought i ate w this idea. fuck the blood supremacists!

"teddy, stop it!" you whine in protest, "you're not like them." you notice how theodore's eyes almost darken with your words as the corner of his mouth twitches from pure disbelief. the two of you are standing in the moon lit courtyard, discarded burnt out cigarettes on the gravelled ground. what had originally been a past curfew sneak out turned into a miscommunication around nott's biggest insecurity.

"oh, there's a ​​​​​them now." theodore counters, his thick eyebrows raising as the emotions in him slowly begin to stir up.

in your head, you think it's best to keep the situation light-hearted. you had no intention in upsetting nott nor causing any commotion which could bring the attention of patrolling professors (or even worse, filch.) hence, with best intents, you reply, "ugh, you know what i mean - you're not that kind of pure-blood!" the frustration begins to grow inside you as with the desperation to convince theodore that he's only misinterpreting your words. 

there's a brief moment in which theodore needs to take a step back from what he's hearing. his eyes slightly widen, processing your words. had you always been so blatantly insensitive? you're his close friend, the one person out of his cliché friend group that he actually opened up to. to him, you were always the best listener. he'd let his mouth run on all his insecurities and internalised shame of being a nott. how he struggled to live with an emotionally unavailable father the moment his mother passed. how his father's obsession with blood supremacy only disgusted him rather than inheriting the same ideology. even how being friends with malfoy created the expectation to be just as hateful. theodore nott wanted to break the generational chain - he didn't have to be a death eater simply due to his house or family.

there's anger brewing in him. he knows hurtful words are about to said, but he couldn't care less at the moment. "that kind you love to stereotype?" he spat, his face sneering as his shoulders tense up. "the slytherins that make you feel the need to grip your wand whenever 'they're' around?" he watches how your expression gradually turns into one of guilt after he airquotes the pronoun. just thirty minutes ago, he had been admiring how well the moonlight made your features glow. now, there's only brewing hatred in his dark eyes. "yeah, don't think i didn't notice that little trick the first time we met." theodore only continues, running a frustrated hand down his brown locks. "so, let me ask you a question-" his voice wavers at the beginning of his sentence, "are you afraid of me? do you think i might go nuts? think i might go savage? turn to the dark lord?" you can feel the pounding of your heart as theodore takes his slow steps towards you, the frown never leaving his face. he's barely a step away from you now - any closer and you'd feel his hot breath hit your skin. your words are stuck between your throat and tears start to brim from seeing your close friend in this light and so hurt. "you think i might try to.. use the killing curse on you?" the tone of his voice switches up and he's practically shouting at you now. 

you flinch.

that's the instinct when being towered by the 5'11 male and his intimidating gaze. your shaky breath can be prominently heard in the eerie silence of this night. to theodore, that's all the signs he needs. thus, he whispers out an "i knew it" and chuckles from the incredulity. he lowers his tense shoulders as he backs away. you notice how his fingers tremble, balling his fists up before loosening them again. "just when i thought somebody actually believed in me, huh?" he mumbles - the tears are welling up for him as well. he storms away though, before you can see them trickle down. before you can call out to him. 

[rjunhuang]

[11:57pm] "tell me about your mum." you stood there, holding the bruised hand of your childhood best friend. he was the villain of the stage but the lover in your shadow. both outcasts in the hallways of seuli high school ; both popular, yet so alone. damaged kids raised by damaged families. maybe that's why you understood kyung like no other. you two had grown up through thick and thin, every little secret of kyung's stored in the nooks and crannies of your memories. every little secret except one; his mother. baek kyung's usual sullen face turned into a confused one. with his thick eyebrows furrowed, he spoke up, "huh? you already know my mum, y/n." you couldn't help but softly smile. was there ever a moment your grumpy little boyfriend wasn't frowning? "no, kyungie. i know mrs. baek, not your mother . . not the one who warms your silly heart." your words came off playful, although genuine. but baek kyung knew that, he knew you too well. the gears moving in your boyfriend's head were practically visible in your eyes. he had his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. his rough palms felt sensational against the soft ones of your own. the countless times you had told him to moisturize, yet he found the slightest changes to be so hard - so you never pushed him. "she loved flowers." he finally spoke up after moments of silence, a small smile tugging the corner of his lips. "especially solidagos." "solidagos?" "goldenrods. she called them the mothers of florescence ; no matter how poor or drought the soil is, they'd accept it for it's condition and bloom. they forgive - just like a mother does to her child." the glimpse of kyung's lip quivering caught your eye. you decided not to say anything, instead, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. bending down, you delicately placed the bouquet of solidagos infront of the carved stone.

IN LOVING MEMORY OF, BAEK DOYEON.

"she'd be proud of you, kyung."