#brown reader

What you didn’t expect was being pulled out of it as a large hand curled around your upper arm, pulling you into a corner by the stairs. You looked up, warm with alcohol as a pair of piercing chocolate eyes looked down at you, fiery ginger hair and a lazy grin. Your stomach fluttered as a grin grew on your lips.

“Freddie! I haven’t seen you all night, thought you bailed ‘n left poor George here.” You mused, looking up at his towering frame. He chuckled, crossing his arms. “Miss seeing you? I’d feel robbed of the prettiest glittering thing in the common room.” 

He gestured to your excessive jewellery, you snickered in response, playfully swatting his wrist while he gestured. “Oh, hush! Don’t spend all your time here, want me to introduce you to a few? There’s a girl I feel you’d get on with—” You said excitedly before you heard his tongue click. He leaned over you, lowering his head to mumble in your ear.

“Think I’m happy enough with you, mhm?” He mumbled, making your cheeks burn. “Well– well, okay! I just— There’s people looking for me, okay?” You sputtered out, eyes wider as you patted his chest like your insides weren’t exploding. His grin only widened as he leaned back, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Shame. Look for me, alright, pretty girl?”

You laughed in response, giving him a bright smile. “Oh, for sure. Who else’ll call me the prettiest glittering thing in the room? Can’t let go of that ego fuel, can I?”

He snickered, moving to loosely touch your hair, tilting his head. “If anyone else calls you pretty, tell ‘em I did first, will you?” The soft, subtle touch of possessiveness made your knees feel like jelly. Your name was yelled again, and you fell back into it, into the music and the laughter—but Fred hung at the back of your mind, sat in your ribs. Your breathing hitched just a tad whenever you heard his loud laughter from across the party.

You told yourself Fred was just touchy, you didn’t know each other beyond the parties, beyond the noise. You were fine with that, you always kept yourself occupied. He was always occupied. 

But there it began.

Party after party, the common rooms switching but the people constant. With Umbridge’s rules and the fact it was the last year for so many, parties were thrown almost every single night.

You never minded, always attending each one. People needed it; to be able to let loose and have fun. But Fred came to each and every one too.

Every single one.

Fair, it was his final year too, you doubted he’d even finish it with how much he talked about his upcoming shop. But you felt his eyes on you through every one. You felt insane when you looked his face, only to see him doing something else. Not looking at you. 

Were you the one thinking of him? Wishing he’d look at you?

You shook the thought, back on the dance floor, pulling people in as Sean Paul blasted over the speakers, making quite literally every girl in the room scream and dance together.

You were flushed, dancing with Katie Bell to the upbeat song, moving your hips as you and Katie sang the song at each other, grins wide.

You were completely consumed by it, swaying to the music. Spinning around with the rest of the bodies in the crowd. You looked around, spotting Fred on the outskirts of the dance floor just as the song switched, Everybody Wants To Rule The World, Tears for Fears. 

The new songs pulled more guys in, and you moved to grab Fred’s wrist making him scoff and shake his head. “Oh, no no no—“ making you snicker, nodding as you tugged him into the crowd. 

“Oh, yes, Weasley. You’re not shy, right?” You cooed, making him exaggeratedly groan. You danced to the slower song in front of him, singing with him. Though he was quite reluctant to, he sang with a soft smirk, rolling his eyes every once in a while when you very dramatically acted out the lyrics.

The next song came, then the next. You two stayed, he got more comfortable. Dancing, swaying, singing, grinning at each other. 

You shared drinks, teased each other—had a complete ball.

Soon, your interactions shifted, evolved.

Parties turned into bumping into eachother in the back of the library.

Alcohol turned sharing coffee during hangovers.

The music started sounding like rain when you and him sit together in the Astronomy Tower. It sounded like the crackling of the Gryffindor Common Room fire when he and George made you wear a Gryffindor tie to sneak you in under the guise of you being the only tolerable Slytherin. 

Talking at parties was natural, he went straight to you when he walked in; you always gave him your full attention in turn. The girl who was the human version of everywhere, all at once, began to find a place to be. Fred.

Gradually, people went to Fred when they needed you—and someone always needed you. She almost gave Fred a starter pack on how to help people if you were busy.

If someone asked Fred why he had a pouch in his bookbag full of pads, inflatable heating pads, spare underwear, lip balm, and pain-relief potion seven months ago, he’d have snorted and made some dumb joke about being the saint Mary for women’s needs.

But now? He quite literally was. Because of you. 

You’d begun letting yourself into his dorm whenever you wanted; Lee and George were used to you hanging around their dorm at this point. You and Fred would sit on his bed, you’d tell him all the drama that looked for your advice on to make sure he could give his two cents whenever anyone came asking for your opinion. Late nights just sitting within the curtains of his four-poster bed, whispering and giggling people's problems. He’d occasionally snort at the ridiculousness.

Your heart swelled—you loved being everyone’s girl. Everyone’s person. But this? Sitting with him? It felt like you had a person, felt like you were his someone. 

And on it went. Months. It came to a point, you and Fred snuck out of your common rooms, in nothing but dorky Merlin pyjamas you’d both bought on a whim to be funny. 

He leaned against the railing of the Astronomy Tower, the air was cool, but not biting. Your shoulder kept bumping against his as you swayed softly, humming some Beatles song under your breath. He didn’t move, looked out towards the stars. The silence wasn’t alarming, you’d learned that Fred thought about stuff a lot when he was alone, and you always let him be alone with you. 

Your fingers brushed too many times for it not to be deliberate. 

“You know me ‘n Georgie’ll be leaving soon. The shop. Everything and whatnot. I won’t be here.” He said softly into the night, looking at you with the same intensity his eyes always had. He was like a live storm, no matter how quiet. You nodded once, looking back at him. 

“I know. It’ll be weird. Can’t wait to see it, though.” You said in turn, offering up a smile. He didn’t reciprocate, not satisfied. 

“I won’t be here.” He repeated.

“The hallways will be quieter.”

“I’ll be, like, gone. No more this.”

“I’ll miss it. I’ll write to you.”

He pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at you like you were messing with him.

“Are you taking the piss?” He huffed, frowning at you. You frowned back, tilting your head. “Of what?”

He groaned, moving to face you, dragging a hand down his face. “Merlin, woman. Me. You. Us. Is there seriously nothing you want to talk about on this horrifically romantic night?”

Your heart picked up a few beats, looking at his warm chocolate eyes, now swirling with frustration. “Do you?”

He gaped, almost exasperated. “What—what do you even– Of course! You’re just– The whispering in my ear?! I–I have a bloody period kit for helping people because you asked! Not to mention the fact it’s a known fact that everyone knows that I always know your bloody whereabouts?!”

He grabbed your shoulders, you yelped. “Freddie!”

“You’re gonna make me go mad, okay? I’ll be leaving, love. Gone. You won’t see me. I can meet you at Hogsmeade but that’s it. I’ll be busy with the business. Next time we’ll be proper together will be ages from now.”

He glared, you turned sheepish. 

“Say something or I’ll do something you may not like.” He mumbled, quieter but no less intense. 

“Like kiss me?” You mumbled.

“Like kiss you.”

Your stomach fluttered, because he looked so undeterred, like a string pulled taut to the point of snapping. 

“Do it then.” You whispered, making his hands move from your shoulders to your hips, squeezing the plump skin before tugging you closer. 

“Fuckin’ crazy. You’re terrifying. I-I can’t even begin to keep myself sane near you.” He huffed, his lips ghosted over yours, making your pulse hammer inside your veins, against your skin.

He leaned down, teeth clinking into a messy, open-mouthed kiss. You were breathing into each other’s mouths, practically sucking each other in.

And so Slytherin’s party girl found something beyond the strobing lights and blasting music. Something equally as enjoyable, but just a bit closer to her heart.

"Shit," the look on his face could've been mistaken for excruciating pain if it weren't for the pathetic whimper that slipped under his radar of not giving you the satisfaction of watching him fall apart (something he's failed horrifically at). Dean forced a slow, shaky exhale as his eyelids fly open, rapid blinks doing nothing to mitigate the near painful throb between his legs.

You pull away from his cock with a smile, eyes locked on his despite his efforts to look away. Dean's nails dug deeper into the leather of your couch the second you ghosted a finger over his frenulum, gently rubbing back and forth in slow strokes as your other hand wrapped around the base. Another strangled sound left his throat when your gentle – borderline nonexistent – touch moved to run over the slit of his cock.

Beads of milky precum ran down the curve of his length, gathering around your fingers as you leaned closer to kitten-lick at the trail it left. Dean's cock twitched in your hand, his balls tightening with every small movement you made.

Sloppy, sideways kisses to the head of his cock blended into you lapping and swirling your tongue around the first inch of his length. The room soon filled with Dean's heavy sighs of pleasure and throaty, guttural curses alongside the wet, sloppy sounds of you teasing him. You spit onto his cock, quickly wrap your lips around him to suck it back into your mouth, then press your lips to his underside, tongue pushing the mixture of spit and pre back into his length.

"God, you're a fuckin' mess," he panted, hand coming to cup your slick chin as he finally let go of his composure. His green eyes darted over your face, lingering as if committing the sight of you kneeled and slick with both you and him to memory. You simply hummed a small "mhm" that trails of into a moan, pressing him back into your mouth as your hand pumps the rest of his length.

"mm, you fuckin' love that shit, don't you?" The combination of your words, the filthy image of you between his legs, and the lust-drunk chuckle that left your lips moments after tonguing at the head of his cock; Dean released a sound between a groan and a whine before throwing his head back yet again.

"Fuck, y'know I do," he panted. "Fuckin' love how nasty you are," Dean was cut off by an involuntary shout of pleasure when you suddenly took his length down to the base, throat squeezing tight.

Broken, half-minded babbling of how sexy you were and how good you made him feel spilled out of him like wine over a glass, filling the room with the echoes of his praise. It's not until your free hand gently massaged his balls that you knew he couldn't hold back much longer.

Dean's thighs jerked together – his tell-tale sign that he's moments from busting – as both of his hands flew to cradle your head. Thoughtless pumps of his hips into your mouth brought him to the very brink of pleasure, his bottom lip pulled painfully between the growing pressure of his teeth.

You let him throatfuck you until he's grunting, broken "jus' like that"s and "fuck, baby"s filling your ears as his cum gushed down your esophagus. Each swallow and added suction from your mouth coaxed more cum until he physically couldn't anymore. His hands that once held your face pawed at your shoulders, weak attempts at stopping the overstimulated pleasure racking his senses.

You pulled away with a grin, only to making a show of licking him clean and stuffing any remaining precum on your fingers into your mouth. He watched behind half-lidded eyes and parted lips, throat bobbing as his half-soft cock twitched at the sight.

"God, you're dirty," he huffed a bout of incredulous laughter, voice hoarse as he guides your lips to his. He groaned at his own taste heavy on your tongue and he deepens the kiss with no hesitation.

you simply laughed and nodded as he licked away the remaining arousal and spit off of your chin.

. fin.

You’d been in the Maldives for barely 2 hours and already you felt calmer than you had in months.

The ocean stretched endlessly in front of the beach house, water so clear you could see straight down to the pale sand and coral patches even from the deck. Your friends were inside arguing about where to go for lunch and cutting fruit, but your attention had been on the water since the moment you got to the beach house.

The Maldives was supposed to have some of the best scenery in the world, and the idea that there might be turtles, rays, or octopuses just metres from the house had you practically vibrating with excitement.

You leaned into the doorway.

“Guys I’m going snorkelling,” you announced.

One of your friends, Adelina, looked up from slicing mango. “Already?”

“Yes already,” you said, grabbing your mask and snorkel from the table. “There’s literally coral right there and I refuse to waste time.”

“You’ve been here for like two hours mate.” Adelina said, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance.

“And?”

She laughed. “Okay then, when you come back we'll all go for lunch.”

You slipped into the water from the deck ladder, the sea cool and soft against your skin. Your hair was tied back loosely, though some hair was already escaping around your face.

The water felt incredible.

You floated for a moment before putting your mask on and dipping your head beneath the surface.

Immediately you spotted some small fish weaving through the water, tiny flashes of silver darting between the rocks.

You swam slowly along the reef, scanning every crevice carefully.

A few minutes later you surfaced again, pushing the mask up onto your forehead so you could breathe properly.

That’s when you noticed him.

The beach house next door had a balcony that overlooked the water, and leaning against the railing was a guy watching the ocean.

At first you just noticed the obvious things.

He was tall.

Shirtless.

Broad shoulders, arms resting casually on the railing like he’d been standing there a while.

His hair was dark and curly, His expression peaceful and happy.

And even from the distance you could tell he was very hot.

You dipped back under the water again, pretending to focus on the reef, but curiosity got the better of you after another minute.

When you surfaced again, he was looking directly at you.

Your stomach did a weird little flip.

For a second neither of you moved.

Then he lifted his hand and waved.

It looked almost instinctive, like he’d realised he’d been caught staring and decided acknowledging it was the least awkward option.

You laughed softly and waved back.

He smiled immediately.

Even from where you floated you could see the change in his face—his smile wide and warm.

He leaned a little further over the railing.

“Is it good down there?” he called.

You pushed your mask fully onto your head.

“Yeah!” you said, treading water. “There’s loads of fish around here.”

He nodded like he was considering that information seriously.

“Anything exciting?”

You grinned.

“I’m hoping to find an octopus.”

He blinked.

Then laughed.

“An octopus?”

“Yes.”

“That’s very specific.”

“Well they’re really cool,” you said defensively, smiling. “They’re ridiculously intelligent.”

He rested his forearms on the railing, clearly settling into the conversation now.

“Okay, fair enough,” he said. “I respect the ambition.”

There was a small pause.

Then he asked, “You staying in that house?”

You glanced back over your shoulder.

“Yeah, just for the week. Holiday with friends.”

He nodded.

“Same.”

“Are you with friends too?”

“My family,” he said.

You tilted your head slightly.

“Are they all hiding inside while you stand on the balcony spying on me or...?”

He laughed again, louder this time.

“I wasn’t spying.”

“You definitely were.”

“I was just observing.”

“Observing?”

He shrugged slightly.

“You were the most interesting thing happening out here.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” he said casually. “The fish weren’t waving back.”

You tried not to smile too obviously at that.

“So how long have you been watching?” you asked.

He hesitated just long enough that you knew the answer probably wasn’t flattering for him.

“A few minutes.”

You laughed.

“That’s slightly creepy.”

“Only slightly?”

“Depends,” you said. “Did you see me nearly swallow seawater earlier?”

His grin widened.

“Maybe.”

“Oh my god.”

You covered your face briefly with your hand. “That’s so humiliating.”

“To be fair you recovered well.”

“Thank you,” you said sarcastically.

He watched you for a moment, something softer in his expression now.

“You really like this stuff, don’t you?”

“The ocean?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded immediately.

“Obsessed with it. I’ve always loved marine life.”

“What’s the coolest thing you’ve ever seen?”

You thought about it.

“Probably a nurse hound shark in Cornwall,” you said. “But I really want to see an octopus in the wild. They’re like weird little geniuses.”

He smiled slightly at how animated you sounded.

“I feel like you’ve definitely given this speech before.”

“Oh I absolutely have.”

“Do your friends enjoy it?”

“Not at all.”

He laughed again.

Then after a second he asked, “So what happens if you do find the octopus?”

You shrugged.

“I celebrate.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I tell my friends ‘I told you so’ dramatically.”

“That’s it?”

“Well do you want fireworks or something mate?”

“I feel like an octopus sighting deserves fireworks.”

“Well if I find one I’ll let you know.”

He nodded thoughtfully.

“I’d like that.”

You adjusted your mask again, floating a little closer to the reef.

“I should probably keep looking though.”

“Right,” he said.

Then he hesitated slightly before adding,

“Good luck with the octopus.”

You smiled.

“Thanks.”

"Wait—" He called out, raising his arm to get your attention.

You turned instantly, your gaze accidentally falling on his muscular arms.

"What's your name?"

"Oh I'm Y/N"

"I'm Jude!" He replied, a smile growing on his face.

"I'll see you around then Jude?"

"Yea, I hope so"

You smiled shyly trying to make sure he didn't realise how much of an effect he had on you, then you dipped back under the water and swam toward the coral again.

When you finally climbed back onto the deck of the beach house later, your friends immediately noticed the grin on your face.

“Did you find your octopus?” Abby asked.

“No,” you said, grabbing a towel. “But…”

“But what?”

You hesitated, "Nothing nothing, I just, I met this guy and we had a really nice chat so—"

Your friends smiled knowingly, "And why did you want to bring that up mate?" Adelina said with a knowing grin on her face.

"Stop, he was just really sweet and stuff, I actually noticed him like, looking at the sea and then I pretended I wasn't just staring him and then I wanted to see him again cuz he was really like—" You pause cringing at the next few words spilling out of your mouth.

"Like what girl?" Sophie said, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"This is going to sound a bit stupid but he was like really hot, like kind of unreal, anyway um— when I resurfaced to look at him again he was staring at me and then he waved and then we just talked about like snorkeling and stuff and his smile was so sweet oh my goodness. I hope I see him again!"

Sophie giggled a bit as she went to the side to grab your towel of the chair, "Okay well, here's your towel girl. We decided to eat lunch at this restaurant, it's like a fifteen minute walk from here."

You grab the towel and start drying your hair, trying to fight the smile as your mind fixated on Jude. Maybe you would see him again, Who knows?

a/n: likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated!! Chapter 2

You hummed along to one of the songs on the cassette tape Wes had filled with your favorite songs as you placed another thin, colorful elastic band around the tips if your thumb and index fingers, threading a section of twisted hair to join the other miniature ponytails at the crown of his head. Gently separating the section into two and tugging them apart to tighten the band, you watched as Wes turned his attention to one of the many containers of hair clips nearby.

Of course, he sifts through it, looking and appraising each hair pin until he finds these pearlescent plum-colored butterfly clips. The deep shade of purple glimmered with shades of teal and green under the light like little beetles, something he immediately liked.

"Can I borrow these?" He offers one for you to study. You make a small sound of agreement before taking it between your fingers and clamping it above one of the neon pink rubber bands holding his hair back. You mentally cataloged how pretty the purple complimented the color of his blonde roots as well as the rest of the toffee colored tresses. Purple and pink suited him surprisingly well, even when he's dressed up in his studded black choker, Metallica shirt, and worn out black jean shorts.

"Like that?" You asked, to which he nodded quickly. You grinned as he ransacked the container for any identical clips, mentally reminding yourself to take a picture of Wes before he left for the photoshoot he planned on doing with the rest of his band.

You had admired Wes' self-confidence long before you had gotten involved with him, noticing him around town as he hung out with his friends. I mean, it's not every day you meet a guy who styles his hair in space buns and walks around in taped-together sweaters and jean shorts big enough to cover his knees, especially not in Jacksonville. However, rather than letting it deter you from him and treating it as something to laugh at, you found yourself in awe of how pretty he looked and wondering what it would be like to get to know him.

Luckily, he didn't completely shut down when you decided to talk to him for the first time. Sure, he was a little awkward, but the tension eased the moment you brought up music. Turns out Wes had really good music taste, a fact that would bridge the gap between you two and turn into a friendship of swapping tapes and recommendations between hanging out with your respective friend groups.

You were ecstatic to finally see him play with his band, Limp Bizkit, at The Milk Bar. You remember watching completely starstruck as the near empty venue was filled with the intro into "Pollution" overwhelmed your senses. Your friends hated the music, but you got the vision pretty damn quickly. Once their set was over, your friends waited outside as you complimented Wes and his band on their music and asked if they planned on playing again any time soon. Since then, the rest has been history.

You were over halfway done, only needing to curl a few sections and to set them with hair pins and hair spray. Wes lifted another silver hair clip in your direction as you unwrapped a tight ringlet from your curling wand, scrunched it up, and sprayed it with hair spray before taking the pin and clipping it.

"Alright," you murmur as you pin the last section of hair. "All done. You have to keep these in until your ready to go out, okay?" you flick one of the silver pins. "It keeps the curl from losing its shape."

Wes nodded before admiring his hair in his reflection, brown eyes slightly wide as he takes in the finished product. Not only were you good at what you do, you somehow you managed to not burn the shit out of either of you in the process — something he would've done almost immediately.

He finally gets up and stretches his limbs, a groan leaving his body before he ducks his head into the mirror yet again. You couldn't help but smile as you took the camera he had brought with him and opened the side view, flicking on the camera to capture the moment.

You press record as he tucks one of the pin straight strands behind his ear, leaning over your vanity as he helped himself to adding a few more decorative clips where he saw fit.

"I'm assuming it's safe to say you like your hair?" Wes's eyes flicker to you, then the camera, his expression remaining deadpan as he blinked slowly at the lens. You snort when he gets up and immediately gets too close to the lens, making it blurry as you try to back up. "C'mon, Wes! Be serious!" You laugh as he narrows his eyes at the camera, flicks an eyebrow, and eyes the room suspiciously. He only breaks character when you slap his shoulder, a smile breaking across his features.

"Of course I like it," he says as he turns to lean again your vanity. You zoom in on him, capturing him from the waist up as he folded his hands under his chin and offered an exaggerated smile before devolving into a snarl and a few more silly faces that pull a string of laughter out of you.

He thanks you again, his attention briefly flicking away when you comment on how pretty he looks before settling on your bed, careful not to mess up the array of stuffed animals at the head of your mattress.

You couldn't help but capture the moment on the Polaroid camera on your night stand, rolling your eyes when he crosses his eyes and sneers at the camera just as the light flashes.

"Can you ever take a normal picture?" You ask with faux irritation, to which he replies with a smug "nope".

♔

The time from you finishing his hair and him getting ready to leave was filled with him answering questions you have about playing guitar — how long did it take him to get good? What the fuck is a whammy bar? What's the hardest and easiest songs he knows how to play? Despite you having no clue what he's talking about most of the time, you still do your best to understand to the best of your ability (even when you still get the string names mixed together). Eventually, the both of you end up on your plush shag carpet as you blow and wave your hand frantically over the second coat of glossy purple nail polish on his nails, both index fingers featuring a black and pink spiral design.

Time passed almost too quickly when you hear a car horn blare outside.

"C'mon, Wes! Get your ass down here!" The familiar sound of Fred's voice echoes across your street despite the time of night. Wes cursed as you helped unplug the miniature amp from the outlet in your wall and gather his things as he unclipped his hair. Sure enough, the curls kept their shape, gently bouncing with each movement he made.

You snap a quick candid photo of him slinging the strap of his guitar case across his chest, grinning as you open your bedroom door and hurry down the stairs to unlock your front door. You walk him out and wave goodbye as he approaches the band's van.

"Took your time, pretty boy," Fred shook his head with a small smirk as he narrowed his eyes at the guitarist's hair. A few wolf whistles and joking catcalls from Sam and John elicits a deadpan expression from Wes.

"Yeah, yeah, unlock the door, assholes." Wes raises a middle finger before packing his belongings into the back of the van. He turns back around to wave goodbye to you before shutting the back doors and hopping into the passenger's seat.

"Good luck, guys!" You call out as Fred raises a hand and nods once in goodbye. The van pulls off with a screech, the howls of Wes' bandmates giving him shit fading with each toss and turn of the vehicle. You shook your head with a an incredulous (and loving) scoff before turning on your heels and walking back into your home.

♔