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Chapter Text

Hi everyone!!
- Imagines with mature content will be marked
- Open to requests! (different fandoms or part twos)

so far the fandoms include: harry potter, maze runner

read the original wattpad version: ✔ | multi fandom one shots by lillacglass

Chapter Text

The heavy scent of crushed rose petals and simmering cauldrons hung in the air as Professor Slughorn's voice echoed across the Potions classroom.

"Amortentia!" he announced grandly, gesturing towards to the swirling silver pink liquid before him. "The most powerful love potion in the world. It smells different to each, according to what attracts them most."

Y/n leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. Her eyes flickered to a certain brunette sat in her direct eyeline. Harry Potter was sat, scribbling something into his textbook. As always, the pair was annoyingly good at pretending neither existed. And that was just fine.

They hadn't gotten along since third year when Harry had knocked Y/n off her broom during a quidditch match. She broke her wrist and missed the rest of the season. A shouting match in the Gryffindor locker rooms had quickly turned into detention, and a rivarly.

Except one late night during first semester of sixth year, Gryffindor threw a party in the common room for all quidditch players. Drunkenly, Harry had kissed Y/n during a lousy game of truth of dare. She hadn't pulled away.

The night ended with her tie on his doorknob, yet, nobody had found out. Y/n never quite understood why Harry got under her skin the way he did. They didn't speak of that night. Hermione and Ron, their friends, didnt notice the change in atmosphere the next morning.

Slughorn stepped aside. "All right, then. Pair up Come have a whiff."

"Great," Y/n muttered as students shuffled forward.

A warm voice interrupted her thoughts. "Looks like its gonna be us!" She turned to find Hermione beside her, arm woven with Y/n's. They approached the cauldron together.

The scent hit her instantly, fresh parchment, thunderstorm rain on warm grass, cedarwood, and... cinnamon.

Her breath hitched. Y/n knew who it was, much to her distain, she would recognize that scent anywhere.

"Are you alright?" apparently Y/n's reaction was clear. Hermione looked at her dear friend with worry. "I'm fine Mione, who are you smelling?"

Hermione's eyes divert to the boy's table whispering of a certain ginger, Y/n follows her eyesight to find Harry already staring at her. His stare, mean and cold.

Y/n quickly diverts her eyes and gives Hermione a smile. "You guys would be cute together."

She could feel eyes burning through her head, but she didn't dare turn around.

The wind howled outside the walls of the Quidditch pitch, storm clouds gathering over the tower of Hogwarts. Rain pelted down hard, tapping against the windows. The Gryffindor locker room was dimly lit, the only light flickering from a lone lantern swinging gently above the bench rows.

Y/n slammed the door behind her, boots stomping across the floor leaving muddy, wet footprints. Arms crossed, jaw set.

"You're late," a voice cut through the quiet.

Harry Potter stood by the lockers, wand in hand, drying off a soaked pair of gloves. His hair, messier than usual, clung to his forehead. His Quidditch gear clung to his body from earlier practice, wet and slighting displaying the outline of his abs. His chest rising and falling, quickly like he was still running on adrenaline.

"I didn't realize I had to report to you." Y/n snapped, brushing past him toward her locker.

"You're on the team," he shot back. "You should act like it."

Y/n spun around fast, "Act like it? You think missing practice because Slughorn kept me late is some cardinal sin?"

"You've been distracted all day," Harry replied, stepping closer. "Maybe its the Amortentia, huh?"

Y/n's eyes slightly widened, "You don't know what you're talking about."

He scoffed, voice low. "I think I do."

They stood there, storm crashing against the windows, inches apart. Her hand was clenched at her side. His eyes were unreable, burning with something fierce and frustrating.

"You're unbelievable," Y/n muttered. "You act like that night didn't happen. And now you're just going to stand here and accuse me of- what, exactly?"

His jaw tightned. "Of pretending it didn"t mean anything."

"Oh, and what? You wanted it to mean something?" she bit back, voice rising. "You haven't spoken to me since"

"I didn't know how!" he barked, louder than he meant to. "Fuck, Y/n. I didn't mean for it to happen but I can't stop thinking about it, about you. Especially when you look at me like that. Like you hate me."

There was silence.

Y/n's breath was ragged, heart pounding painfully against her ribs. She wanted to yell at him more, curse at him punch him, but her body betrayed her.

She stepped foward, before she could second guess it, she grabbed his shirt and crashed their lips together.

He froze, for second before kissing her back, hard. His hands found her waist, dragging her against him, mouths crashing together in a messy heated kiss that felt like everything they'd been holding back since third year, the fights, the tension, the rivalry, the night of the party.

She gasped when his lips moved down her neck, nipping at her collarbone. "We shouldn't be doing this," she murmured.

"Tell me to stop," he breathed, hands sliding under the hem of her shirt, warm against her skin. "Say it."

She didn't. Couldn't.

Instead she pushed him back onto the bench straddling him, lips on his again. Y/n's hips rolled instinctivley against Harry's lap, and she help the sharp intake of his breath and his hands clutched her tighter. Their kiss deepened, desperate as the unspoked tension melted into need.

His hands slipped under her shirt again, this time with purpose, fingertips tracing the curve of her back before sliding up her spine and lifting the fabric over her head. It landed somewhere behind them, forgotten.

Harry's mouth descended to her chest, warm lips brushing over sensitive skin. Y/n gasped, nails dragging his back as he sucked a mark just below her collarbone.

"Merlin" he muttured, pulling back for a second to look at her, flushed, hair messy, pupils blown. "You're gonna be the death of me"

Y/n grinded her hips down harder before he could speak again. A groan escaped him before he grabbed her thighs and flipped her beneath him, her back now pressed against the wooden bench. Harry's lips returned to Y/n's, hands roaming over every inch of exposed skin, as if he was memorizing her. He tugged down her trousers, then her underwear, slow but focused, watching her reactions like they were the only magic learning.

"Spread your legs," he said, voice dark and thick with lust.

Y/n obeyed, breath shaky, heart hammering in her chest.

Harry dropped to his knees between them like it was instinct. When his mouth met her Y/n arched off the bench, a cry caught in her throat.

His tongue was warm and slow at first, teasing, tasting, building her up until her hands tangled in his hair and her hips bucked against his mouth. When he sucked at the spot he knew would unravel her, like it had once before.

"Harry fuck," she gasped, legs trembling.

He didn't stop until she was tugging him up, dragging him back to her lips.

Their kisses grew messier again, a blue of breath and touch. She fumbled with his belt, yanking his pants down just enough before wrapping her legs around his waist. He lined himself up, forhead pressed against hers.

"We're really doing this," he whispered. Y/n kissed him one last time before he pushed into her slowly, filling her inch by inch. They both exhaled at the same time. As if their bodies just clicked into place. Like it was always bound to happen, wether they admitted it or not.

The rhythm started slow, each thrust deliberate, deep. But it didnt take long for the pace the shift, for control to break as their bodies moved together in frantic desperation, skin clapping, hands graping, breath ragged. The storm outside roared louder but neither of them heard it over the sounds they were making.

"oh fuck Harry" she whimpered, over and over. He groaned into her neck. He was close. She could feel it in the way his hand reached down to rub small circles against her clit, pushing her over the edge again.

Her body clenched around him, and with a final, broken moan, he spilled into her, riding the high through.

They lay tangled on the bench, breathless, silent, the storm finally beginning to calm.

Chapter Text

The Gryffindor common room pulsed with music, gold-red lighting, and the wild energy of post-Quidditch victory. Butterbeer was spilling, firewhiskey passed in enchanted cups, students singing loudly over a record that skipped every third beat. Candles floated overhead in uneven spirals, and someone had bewitched the fireplace to flare everytime someone scored a toast.

Y/n was leaned against the stone column near the stairs, watching it all unfold with a lazy smile and a cup of firewhiskey. She was used to these parties, Gryffindor's were known for being exceptionally wild. The chaos, the noise and the collective house pride was a high she always chased.

Although Y/n herself, was a Hufflepuff. She found comfort in the crimson house, befriending a certain pair of twins. She never saw anyone of her own house at these parties, except for the occasional encounter with Cedric Diggory.

His tall figure was easy to spot out during parties, the pair was considerably close, close enough to even share an occasional drunken makeout, maybe more than one.

The brunette beelined for Y/n as soon as she came into sight. "Hello there." handing her a drink.

Greeting him with a hug, "Cedric, how are you."

As the pair engaged in conversation, Fred Weasley watched from the couch, eyes locked onto the familiar figures.

The way her head tilted when she laughed. The way her fingers curled around that glass. The way Cedric bloody Diggory leaned in a little too close every time he spoke.

Fred rolled his jaw.

"Mate," George cut in, dragging his gaze away with a knowing look. "You've taken three shots in 5 minutes and haven't stopped staring since Diggory went over to her."

"I'm fine," Fred muttered, his breath laced with firewhiskey. George scoffed, tipping his drink. "Its obvious you have feelings for her."

Fred's glare was sharp, his black shirt favored his broad solders, tall as he was, it wasn't hard for Fred Weasley to get girls. But the only one to peak his intrest was his own bestfriend. Y/n, Fred and George have been a trio since the beginning of third year.

Fred's eyes flicked back to her. She was glowing, her cheeks were flushed from the drink, her hair was long and slightly wavy and her eyes dark, tightlined. She looked like a goddess.

Then, mercifully, Cedric straightened.

"I'll go grab us another round," he said to her, flashing her a smile.

Y/n nodded, distracted. "Sure, I'll be here."

As soon as Cedric left her sight, Y/n made her way over to the Weasley twins. Fred watched as Y/n walked over, with curious, hungry eyes. She always felt heat between them, a magnetic pull. His scent of smoke and cinnamon became stronger as she sat next to him.

"Diggory keeping you entertained?" Fred asked, voice low and smug as, shoulder brushing hers.

Y/n turned her head slowly, letting her eyes drag up his figure, the open collar of his black shirt, the way his sleves were rolled to his elbows, forearms flexing subtly with every shift.

"Jealous?" she asked, sipping her drink.

He huffed a laugh, close enough she felt it against her neck. "Not of him"

Y/n raised a brow. "Of who, then?"

Fred didn't answer. Just smiled.

George slammed back his drink and leapt to his feet, grinning wildly, his eyes already scanning the croud. "Alright you lot!" He called out over the music. "Truth or Dare time!"

A few cheers rose, soon a group began to assemble near the fireplace, pulling over cushions and disregarded cloaks to form a loose circle. Among them were Fred, Y/n, George, Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Kaitie Bell and Oilver Wood. All already a few drinks in.

Fred dropped down beside Y/n again, thigh to thigh, arm thrown casually across the back of the couch.

"Rules are simple," George announced, spinning an empty firewhiskey bottle in the center of the group. "If you chicken out, you chug. If you lie, you chug twice. And if you're dared to do something filthy, well, you're welcome."

Laughter rang out as the bottle began to spin, clicking against the floorboards until it stopped. On Angelina.

George grinned. "Truth or dare."

"Dare," she said without hesitation.

The game began slow, kisses, secrets, dares to down drinks. But the longer it went, the more charged it became. The dares turned riskier. The touches lingered longer. Eyes got hungrier.

It was hard for Y/n to not feel the weight of Fred's stare, the warmth of his hand when it brushed her lower back like it meant something."

The bottle spun again, this time landing on Fred.

"Dare"

George's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Alright, brother mine," he said dramatically clearing his throat. "Your dare is to choose the girl you're most attracted to and pull her into that cupboard," he pointed at the narrow broom closet on a nearby wall "-for seven minutes in heaven."

Scattered "ooooh's" and laughter filled the air.

Fred slowly turned to Y/n, he stood up and extended a hand to her, without saying anything.

Y/n didn't think. She stood, her hand sliding into his. The room burst into catcalls as Fred led her away.

As soon as the cupboard clicked shut Fred wasted no time putting his hands on Y/n's waist, her back against the wall before she could speak. His mouth found hers fast and hard, tasting of cinnamon and whiskey, his fingers digging into her hips like he'd been waiting all night- maybe all year, for this.

She moaned softly against his lips, threading her fingers into his hair, tugging hard. He groaned, one leg slipping in between hers as he kissed her deeper, hungrier.

"You don't even know." he whispered against her mouth, breath hot, "how long I've been wanting this."

Y/n kissed him again in answer, her hands sliding under his shirt, feeling his abs, the heat of his skin. Fred cursed under his breath, his hand slipping beneath the hem of her top, palming her waist, fingertips brushing.

"Fuck," he muttered as her mouth moved to his neck, teeth grazing the skin just below his ear. "You're dangerous."

She smirked, liking the spot she bit. "Then stop playing safe."

Fred growled, lifting her slightly off the ground, pressing her fully against the wall, her legs wrapped out his waist instinctively. His mouth was on hers again, tongue, hands-

KNOCK KNOCK

"Oi! Time's up lovebirds!" Lee's voice rang through the small cupboard, smug and laughing.

Fred dropped his head against Y/n's shoulder, growing dramatically.

Y/n laughed, breathless, brushing hair off her face, "we should go before they start placing bets."

He let her down slowly, his hands dragging along her sides before finally stepping back, shirt rumpled, lips swollen.

As they step out, the room erupted into cheers and whistles.

Fred just smirked, running a hand through his hair.

Y/n sat down first, downing her drink. Fred sits down next to her, wrapping his arm around her.

"We're not finished," He whispered softly against her ear.

"Didn't think we were."

Chapter Text

Soon after midnight, Cedric slipped through the gilded archway, one hand clutching his wand, the other carrying the golden egg. The prefect's bathroom came into sight. The stained glass windows cast dim colored shadows across the marble floor, the enchanted candles flickering low, golden light dancing across the vast strech of water. The pool-like bath steamed gently, enchanted bubbles drifting just above its surface.

'underwater' he remebered. 'the voice changes underwater.'

He stripped quickly, robes falling in quiet folds at his feet until he stepped into the warm water, muscles tensing at the heat. Brusies still lingered along his ribs from the dragon, the shallow gash on his shoulder had started healing.

He dunked the egg under, the screech turned into a song- muffled. Not perfect but close.

He leaned into trying to make out the words.

The door creaked.

He turned sharply, wand raised.

and froze.

Y/n stood at the threshold, eyes widening as she realized she wasn't alone. She wore a thin nightrobe, her hair slightly messy, cheeks flushed."

"I-" she started blinking at him in the water. "You're not supposed to be here."

Cedric's lips curved, low and amused. "Neither are you."

Her eyes dragged down his chest, his shoulders slick with water, droplets tailing along the dips of his muscle before vanishing beneath the surface.

Y/n quickly looked away, but not before he caught it.

He tilted his head. "You came here to spy on me?"

"I was told the bathroom was empty," she said, stepping inside. "I didn't think I'd find the bloody Triwizard champion in the tub."

He smirked. "Well. Here I am."

Y/n hesitated near the edge of the pool, the egg's soft song still echoing under the water.

"Is that what it sounds like underwater?" she asked, eyes on the bubbles.

"Want to find out?"

Her breath hitched. The challenge in his voice was quiet.

Her robe hit the floor without a word.

Cedric's jaw tensed, but he didn't look away as she stepped into the water in just her thin slip, which turned nearly transparent as it clung on to her skin.

She crossed the bath slowly, the water parting around her like a spell.

"You always know when to find me," he murmured, eyes tracing every line of her as she moved.

She stopped a foot away. "You always look like you want to be found."

Cedric drifted closer, his hands barely breaking the surface of the water. "If you stay, I won't be able to pretend anymore."

"Good" she whispered. "I'm tired of pretending."

He reached for her then- one hand sliding to her waist beneath the water, fingers spreading across her hip. She sucked in a breath.

"You're soaked.", he said, voice low.

"Your fault."

He pulled her against him in one slow, move. Her thighs brushed his under the water. His bare chest pressed against the sheet fabric of her soaked slip. She tilted her face up to meet his gaze, he didn't hesitate this time.

He kissed her.

Deep, slow, thorough. Like he'd been holding it in for days, weeks, months. His hand slipped to the nape of her neck, guiding her as he backed her gently to the marble edge of the bath, her spine meeting cool tile while stream curled around them.

Their mouths broke only to breathe. Her fingers tangled in his wet hair. His lips grazed her jaw, her throat, the curve of her shoulder.

"Tell me to stop," he said, voice raw against her skin. "And I will."

She didn't.

His mouth was back on hers in an instant, more desperate now, all restraint melting into heat. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he gripped under her thighs, lifting her slightly, pressing her harder into the wall.

The thin fabric of her slip floated between them, soaked and clinging, but no barrier at all. His hand slid under it, fingers dragging along her inner thigh until he found her heat, aching for him.

Y/n gasped into his mouth, hips rolling instinctively. "Fuck, Y/n" he breathed, forehead pressed to hers. "You feel..."

"Please Cedric."

His fingers slid between her folds under the water, slow and deliberate, working her open with aching precision. Her hands clawed at his back, nails sinking into his skin as her head fell back against the marble.

The sound of the water and low moans wrapped around them as Cedric took his time.

He removed his fingers and lined himself up with her. Cedric kissed Y/n deepening it as he slowly enters her fully, they both froze for a second.

Chests rising in unison.

Slowly Cedric quickened his pace, water lapped softly against the tile, her cries muffled against his mouth.

"Fuck Cedric."

Y/n could feel herself edging closer, dangerously close and he sped up his trusts. Becoming sloppier and sloppier, she reached for the tile behind her for support, she couldn't take it, how good it felt.

Cedric brought her closer, his lips at her ear. "You feel so good my love." whispered quietly, only for her to know.

Y/n lost it, body arching, nails gripping Cedric's back, legs tightening, he followed, spilling into her with a low groan.

They stayed wrapped around eachother for a while after, in peaceful silence. In disbelief of what just happened.

Finally.

Chapter Text

The Great Hall was filled the low hum of chatter as breakfast began. Y/n sat between Hermione and Angelina, absentmindedly poking at her scrambled eggs, gaze drifting across the Gryffindor table.

And there, sat Fred Weasley. Red hair tousled perfectly, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms displaying veins and a crooked smile tugging at his lips as he leaned over to say something to George.

Y/n's breath caught traitorously in her throat. Hermione noticed the long pause. "You okay?" She asked casually following Y/n's line of sight. Her brows lifted.

Y/n blinked, snapping her gaze back to her plate. "Yeah, just... thinking."

Angelina narrowed her eyes playfully. "About Fred?"

Y/n scoffed, too fast "No, obviously not."

"Obviously," Hermione echoed, clearly unconvinced, her mouth curling into a knowing smirk. "You watch him like he's going to disapear at any moment."

"I do not."

"You do," both girls said in unison.

Y/n rolled her eyes, cheeks heating. "He's just a friend. A stupid, loud, annoying, reckless-"

"Gorgeous, charming, funny," Angelina interjected, smirking.

Y/n shoved a piece of toast in her mouth to shut herself up.

Across the table, Fred caught her eyes and winked.

Damn it. A small smile crept on her face.

She tried everything to push him away.

Tried reminding herself he was a year older, that he harmlessly flirted with everyone. That he probably didn't look at her that way.

But feelings don't follow logic, and Fred Weasley had this gravitational pull about him. He was impossible to resist.

The whispers spread fast as the pair hung out more. Y/n even received a scribbled note passed during Charms.

"Are you and Fred, like, together together?"

She laughed it off, played dumb and told everyone they were just friends. But the rumours snowballed. People claimed to see them sneaking out of the tower at night, meeting behind the stands after Quidditch practice, dissapearing after parties.

Eventually they reached Fred.

That evening, the sun had barely dipped below the horizon. The Quidditch pitch flowed amber in the light as Y/n hovered in the air, her broom swaying gently beneath her. Practice had ended, the others had cleared out, but Fred stayed, and so did she.

He landed with a soft thud and called out to her.

"Oi, secret girlfriend. Coming down or are you planning to sleep up there?"

Y/n rolled her eys, descending slowly. "Funny."

Fred tossed his broom aside and leaned against the stands, arms crossed. "People are saying we're hooking up. Can't tell if I should be flattered or disappointed."

Y/n swallowed hard, brushing her hair from her face as her feet hit the grass. "You know how people talk."

He tilted his head. "Do you talk?"

"No." A pause. "Do you want me to?"

Fred stepped closer, something unreadable in his gaze now. "Depends on what you'd say."

She looked away, heart pounding. "I'd say it's not true."

"Is that what you want it to be?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Maybe not."

Fred's breath hitched just slightly, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. "Then we should give them something real to talk about."

He leaned down to kiss her.

It was soft at first, but the heat and hunger, the months of tension poured out all at once. His hands tangled in her hair, her fingers fisting the front of his practice jersey.

She gasped into his mouth as he backed her against the wall of the stands, he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, both moving in sync.

Fred's lips trailed down her neck. "You drive me fucking crazy," he breathed against her skin. "All those nights you sat in the common room, pretending like you didn't want to rip my clothes off."

"You're one to talk," she whispered back, heat growing between her thighs. His mouth found hers again, more desperate this time, pressing his forhead to hers, his voice was thick and ragged.

"Not here."

Y/n's heart pounded. "Then where?"

Fred didn't answer. He just took her hand.

The grip was firm, warm. And before she could second guess, before she could think about what it meant, or who might see, he was pulling her, fast and reckless, across the pitch, toward the castle.

Y/n barely had time to catch her breath as they burst through the oak doors, laughing breathlessly, hearts pounding, fingers still entertwined. The corridors were dim, torches flickering gold on the stone walls, shadows dancing as their feet pounded through the halls of Hogwarts.

By the time they reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Y/n was flushed and dizzy from both the sprint and the way Fred kept glancing back at her.

Fred muttered the password to the Fat Lady and the portait swung open.

And then everything slowed.

Inside the common room, it was crowded with students lounging, playing games, chatting, studying.

Conversation ground to a halt as Fred and Y/n stumbled in, looking entirely disheveled, windblown hair, swollen lips, flushed cheeks, dirt-smudged Quidditch robes.

It was obvious, way too obvious. Everyone's mouths wide open, shocked.

Someone whisled.

Lee let out a low, "Oiiiii.."

Fred didn't even flinch. His hand never left hers.

"Evening," he said casually to the room, as if they weren't clearly seconds away from tearing eachother's clothes off.

Y/n's face burned, but something inside her was glad Fred didn't try to hide it.

George smirked from the armchair. "So the rumours were true."

Fred grinned. "Guess you lot are smarter than you look."

Hermione choked on her tea. Ginny's eyes widened in glee.

Angelina just grinned knowingly, mouthing 'told you so' across the room.

Fred tugged Y/n towards the boy's staircase without breaking stride.

A string of cheers and gasps erupted from behind them.

By the time the dormitory door clicked shut behind them, the world outside didn't matter.

Fred backed her against the door with a groan, kissing her like he'd been starved of it. His hands roamed over her waist, under her shirt, gripping her hips like he's lose his mind if she moved an inch away.

"Fred-" she gasped as his mouth moved to her neck, biting just enough to make her roll her eyes in pleasure. "What if someone comes up?"

"I don't care," he muttered. "I need you. Right now."

She barely had time to respond before Fred crashed his lips against hers again.

He pulled her sweater off in one motion, mouth dragging down to her collarbone, slow and hungry.

"You have no idea what you do to me, Y/n," he said, voice hoarse as his hands traced the skin beneath her bra. "How long I've wanted this."

Her fingers fumbled with the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. He hissed as her nails raked lightly down his chest.

Y/n grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him to her lips. That was all it took.

Fred walked her backwards toward the bed, kissing her slow and deep as he took off her shirt. His hands ghosted along her sides, pausing at the edge of her bra.

"Tell me you want to stop." he murmured, his messy hair and the outline of his abs covered in warm amber light from the fireplace as he kneeled at the edge of the bed.

She swallowed, "Don't."

He unclasped her bra, eyes darkening as it slid down Y/n's arms.

His glaze lingered like worship, fingered brushing over her exposed chest. "Merlin," he muttered under his breath, "you're beautiful."

Y/n bit her lip, heart pounding. Fred's eyes flickered up to hers, voice low. "I've wanted you since last winter, Y/n. Since you feel asleep next to me in the common room with your head on my shoulder. I nearly lost my mind pretending it didn't matter."

She reached for his belt in response. He let out a low breath, helping her tug it free, then his trousers fell to the floor with a soft thud.

He was already hard beneath his boxers, and the sight made her thighs clench instinctively. He noticed.

"Lie back for me," Fred whispered, voice velvet now, heat and want wrapped in that grin he wore like armour. "I want to take my time."

She obeyed, settling into his bed, her back pressing into the soft duvet. Fred climbed over her, kissing a path down her chest, slowly, tongue flicking just under her breast, sucking light bruises into her skin.

Her legs parted instinctively as his hand slid down, slipping beneath the waistband of her underwear, fingers teasing her gently.

"Already wet for me," he groaned, dragging a finger through her folds, rubbing slow, precise circles over her clit.

Y/n's hips buckled, a gasp escaping her throat. He added pressure, speed picking up as he watched her unravel beneath him.

"Fred, please."

"You've got me love." he said, kissing her again as he slid two fingers in. Her back arched as he pumped slowly, curling them just right, making her whimper.

"Let go for me," he whispered into her neck.

She did. Her climax hit like wildfire, her hands grabbing the sheets, legs trembling as Fred whispered her name. He held her through it, fingers slowing, his other hand stroking her hair.

But he wasn't done. He shed the rest of his clothes and paused breathless, hovering aboove her, his dick resting against her thigh.

"You sure?" he asked, voice low.

"Yes," she breathed. "I want you."

He lined himself up, teasing her before a pause. He slowly eased into her. They both groaned, the strech, the pressure. As he sank deeper, filling her inch by inch, until she was gasping his name.

Fred started slow. Grinding thrusts that made Y/n see stars, his mouth placing hot kisses to her shoulder, collarbone, jaw.

Y/n could barely contain herself, his size was bigger than anything she could've imagined. He towered over her in height but still, she was shocked.

"You feel unreal, bloody hell." he murmured, voice breaking as he began to move faster. "Tighter than I ever imagined."

She clung on to him, nails digging into his back as he pounded into her harder now, the bed creaking softly beneath them.

Skin against skin. The pair didn't even care to be quiet as moans and grunts became louder. Every thrust pulled a cry from Y/n's lips, a knot forming in her stomach again, dizzy and fast.

"Baby," he rasped, while speeding up. "Come for me."

She shattered beneath him, stars behind her eyelids, mouth open in a silent cry as he followed moment later groaning, hips jerking as he spilled inside her with a moan of her name.

They collapsed together, tangled in limbs and warm light of the fire, his chest rising and falling against hers. For a long while, they said nothing, just the sound of their breaths lingered in the quiet dorm.

Fred brushed a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead, eyes soft now. "Well," he said, smiling lazily, "guess the rumours will be true tomorrow."

Y/n chuckled, heart full, body aching in the best way. And this time, she didn't deny it.

"Hogsmeade, next week?"

Chapter Text

The Glade was suffocating.

Days into a heatwave, the thick air clung to everything. No one said it, but everyone was on edge, sweaty, shirtless, restless.

Y/n tossed in the humid dark, sheets plastered on her skin, shirt twisted tight across her back. The inside of Homestead felt like a furnace. No wind, no relief. She finally kicked the covers off and slipped outside barefoot, careful to not wake the others.

Y/n aimlessly walked around the Glade, desperate for air. Her long hair sticking to the back of her tank top.

But then she heard it: the soft hiss of water.

The showers.

Y/n's brows furrowed. No one used them this late.

She stepped closwer, keeping to the shadows, only stopping when she reached the corner of the open shower room. Thats when she saw him.

Thomas.

Under the spray.

Naked.

He stood with his back to her, both hands pressed against the stone wall, head bowed under the stream of water. The candlelight spread across the room spilled across his body, broad shoulders, large back, lean muscle glistening.

Y/n held a breath.

And then he turned.

He didn't reach for a towel. Didn't flinch. His eyes met hers through the steam and distance, unreadable for a moment, before the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Can't sleep either?" he asked.

Y/n nodded, a slight smirt forming on her lips as she leaded on the edge of the stone shower wall.

He titled his head toward the shower, eyes still locked on hers.

"Water's nice. Come in."

She should've said no. As third in command, doing such activities would be shameful.

But she didn't.

Y/n stepped into the glow of the torchlight, peeled off her damp tank top, her shorts and her underwear. All without breaking eye contact. She walked to him bare.

The water kissed her skin, cooling her off. Still, it wasn't enough to blow off the steam that had built up in her. All the tension between her and the new runner.

Thomas didn't touch her at first. Just watched as Y/n ran her hands through her hair underneath the water.

And then, slowly, his hand hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer.

"I've seen the way you look at me." he murmured.

"And how do I look at you?" Y/n asked putting her arms around Thomas' neck.

He didn't waste another second.

His mouth crashed onto her's, hungrily and heated. Their bodies pressed together beneath the water, her bare chest against his.

She gasped into the kiss as he deeped it, his hands roaming her back, her hips, down to cup the soft curve of her ass and pull her even closer.

The kiss turned feverish. Months of tension poured into it, every glance, every breathless brush of fingers. The sound of the water echoed around them, hiding the low moans that slipped from her lips when he gripped her thighs and lifted her effortlessly.

Y/n's back hit the cool tile wall. He braced her with one hand, the other guiding himself between her legs.

"Tell me you want this," he growled.

"I want this," she panted. "I want you,"

He pushed into her in one slow, deliberate thrust, drawing a gasp from her throat. Her hands scrambled at his shoulders, her legs wrapping tighter around his waist. He began to move, slow at first, then faster. Deeper.

The water covered their skin, but did nothing to cool them.

Her moans turned shameless, Y/n no longer cared about waking anyone up with their volume. Thomas kissed her through every thrust occasionally kissing her neck, leaving marks. He fucked her with passion, as if he couldn't help himself.

As if the pairing was cardinal, instinct.

His name broke from Y/n's lips again and again, helpless and raw.

When she came, it hit hard, her whole body thightening around him, nails dragging down his back, a choked cry against his neck.

Thomas wasn't far behind. A few more messy thrusts and he buried himself deep with a groan, clutching her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

They stayed like that for a moment, tangled in the heat and steam. Both pulses racing,

Finally, Thomas pulled back enough to look at her, his eyes softer.

As he was about to kiss Y/n again, a voice rang.

"Thomas? You out here?"

They both froze.

Footsteps crunched against the gravel. Another voice joined, louder this time.

"Oi, you better not be jerking off under the water again!"

Newt and Minho.

Thomas' eyes widened. He stepped back, chest heaving, water cascading off him as he quickly slipped Y/n behind him.

A shadow moved just beyond the wall.

"What the bloody-"

And the curtain was pulled aside.

-

authors note: okayy cliff hanger

*requests are open*

Chapter Text

The desert wind howled across the abandoned tracks, stirring sand and ash. The rails streched like spines across the Scortch, flowing faintly under the cracked sunlight. Hidden amond the shadows of ruined freight cars and crumbling concrete, Y/n crouched low awaiting the signal.

Thomas, who was sat next to her, binoculars pressed to his eyes. "There," he whispered, pointing ahead.

"WCKD transport, three cars approaching." Y/n spoke over the radio, alerting Brenda and Jorge.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her fingers twitching over the grip of her rifle. She didn't dare blink.

"Thats where he is," Thomas says, informing Newt and Vince."

Minho. The thought of his name made her heart race.

"We go on your shot." Brenda radios back.

Y/n nods, "now."

The sounds of the wheels grinding against track echoed through the desert as the train approached the ambush point.

The team split into position, Newt flanked the east side, Brenda and Jorge moved up to the conductors car and Y/n, Thomas and Vince stayed on the trains tail.

Thomas was first to climb out and connect the car to the back of the train. Y/n quickly hopped out and climbed to the top.

She ran all the way to the middle identifying the last cart containing immunes. She set up all the equipment and joined Thomas, hanging off the ladder on the side of the cart.

Boom.

The explosion hit the tracks like thunder, rocking it violently. The train split. The first car continued for another 500 meters as the second car came to a screeching halt.

Screens echoed from inside.

Before the dust settled, Vince charged down the slope with the Right Arm fighters behind him.

Guards spilled from the first car, running dioriented, aiming blindly.

-

Y/n watched as the Right Arm techs swarmed the transport, torches sparking against steel as they cut into the sealed door. Vince stood nearby, arms crossed over his chest, tense and silent.

Thomas had barely taken a breath since they returned, his eyes fixed on the door.

A loud clang snapped through the air. The lock gave.

Y/n pushed past everyone to the door.

With a light kick the door fell, her breath caught in her throat. There were maybe 20 kids, immunes, all chained up sat in rows of three.

Walking past the teenagers, her eyes landed on Aris.

"Oh my god." she enveloped him in a hug before  taking his face in her hands.

"What did they do to you." with a heavy sign they continued scanning the kids.

"He's not here." Thomas' voice echoed in the car.

"We didn't take his car"

-

Days later, under the cover of night, they approached the WCKD facility in securty uniform and helments. With the help of Teresa they were able to walk in without any problems.

She took them to the floor that contained all the remaining immunes.

Y/n shot the security guards patroling the area, as Gally disarmed all the cells.

Freeing another 27 kids, Minho wasn't among them.

"Minhos' been moved to the medical wing, thats on the other side of the building." Teresa pulled up the coordinates on the monitor.

Y/n, Newt, Thomas and Teresa left in hurry as Gally stayed behind retreiving the serums.

Y/ns hands were slick with sweak as they rounded another corner. And then she heard it.

A scream. Hoarse. Muffled.

Minho's scream.

It tore through the silence like a blade.

Just as the door marked "SUBJECT A7" came into sight, guards appeared, gun shots blazing,

"Cover me." Y/n yelled as she sprinted ahead, slamming her shoulder into the door. Busting it open.

The inside was sterile and bright, buzzing with monitors. Minho was strapped down to a vertical machine. Dried blood crusted at the edge of his mouth, his face pale but defiant.

His eyes shot open when he saw her.

"Y/n?"

She was already cutting the restraints, fingers trembling. "I've got you. I've got you, Minho."

He collapsed in her arms as the last strap fell, his body heavy with exhaustion. She supported him, wrapping her arms around his back, holding him upright.

"You came," he rasped. "You-"

"Of course I did." she choked out, voice breaking.

Their foreheads touched, breath mingling in the quiet that followed the chaos. For a second, time froze.

He looked at her then, really looked at her. His expression changed.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he whispered.

Y/n cupped his face, brushing away the blood with her thumbs. "I couldn't loose you" Before knowing it, her lips were on his.

Minho kissed her back with just as much urgency, pulling her closer despite the pain in his body, his hands tangling in her hair.

When they finally pulled apart, his voice was low and hoarse against her lips. "Took you long enough."

She laughed, sounding a half-sob. "Lets leave"